Siterion- 'Death and Decay'

The further Arin ventured into the unknown depths, the more surreal his surroundings became. The graffiti on the walls seemed to come alive when he wasn't looking. Thanks to his lord Ner'thazir's warning, he knew the followers of the God of Decay were at play here.

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Arin realized he had stepped on a pressure plate. Before he could react, darts shot towards him from both sides at lightning speed. Though the darts were small and unlikely to hurt him, Arin guessed their tips were poisoned. "Simple poisons wouldn't affect me as an Undead," he thought, "but they would be deadly to any living being."

Twice now, Arin had triggered traps. The water covering the surface hid these traps, making them hard to detect. Arin decided to use the stave to probe the watery surface for hidden traps, much like a blind person uses a cane. As he progressed, he discovered more traps, but avoiding them slowed his movement frustratingly.

Eventually, Arin made a strange discovery. Part of the sewer wall had collapsed, revealing a hidden chamber. The chamber was dark, yet emitted a faint reddish glow. Even Arin struggled to see through the unnatural darkness, filled with an otherworldly miasma that obstructed his vision. He sensed danger lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. But there was no turning back. Arin gripped his short sword and stave firmly and stepped inside.

As he entered the chamber, he received a notification:

[ You have entered the territory of Death and Decay. All Light and Creation Spells will have their efficiency reduced by up to 20%. All Dark Spells will have their efficiency increased by up to 25% ]

"Death and Decay?" Arin wondered. According to Ner'thazir, Nahun was the God of Decay. But Death was his Lord's domain. This confused Arin, but he was pleased to know his Dark Skills were now more effective.

"Look who is here," a shrill whisper echoed, freezing Arin's now-mutated blood. He looked around but saw no one. The thick red mist concealed his enemies. Occasionally, he heard snarls passing by, but they remained invisible.

Arin recalled his Scrying skill, which could help identify hidden enemies. He stood firm, calmed his mind, and activated the skill. As anticipated, their levels became visible above their heads, revealing at least six foes circling him. They needed to be slowed down, and Arin had the perfect tool.

He stretched out his hand, gathered the abundant dark energy, and chanted, "By death's might and pale moon's dark glow; let your courage wane, and your spirits low." He unleashed his Dread Howl, causing the six Rat-men to trip and fall over each other. This was an opportunity Arin couldn't miss.

Arin leapt onto one Rat-man and thrust his stave into its eye with all his might. The stave pierced its skull and got stuck. Using his foot for leverage, Arin pulled the stave out, breaking the creature's neck in the process.

Wasting no time, he smashed another's head with his stave. The repeated attacks cracked both the Rat-man's skull and Arin's stave. Dropping the broken stave, Arin sensed an attack from behind. Instinctively, he moved his short sword behind him, resulting in a splatter of blood and a shriek. A Rat-man had pounced on him, but he had instinctively stabbed it in the throat.

Three more Rat-men attacked together. Arin kicked the middle one in the abdomen, causing it to fall. The left one impaled itself on Arin's short sword, and the right one found its neck in Arin's deathly grasp. Arin chuckled, "As I cast my curse on thee, let your life flow into me," and drained its life force.

Tossing the dried-up body aside, Arin grabbed the short sword with both hands and pounced on the last standing Rat-man. He drove the sword into its chest, breaking its rib cage. The sword got stuck, but the Rat-man was dead.

Arin huffed and searched the six fallen Rat-men. Each had strange amulets with similar patterns. He absorbed the dark energy and endured another barrage of strange visions.

Each Rat-man also carried a dagger, which Arin added to his belt. One had a strange flask with yellowish liquid, identified as an Acid Flask. Arin kept it in his backpack for future use.

Continuing ahead, he encountered more patrols, mostly alone or in pairs. They posed little threat, and Arin dispatched them swiftly. He finally arrived at a large door, feeling ominous energy behind it. His veins glowed bright green, as if his necromantic blood was boiling.

Arin slowly opened the door with the tip of a dagger, anticipating traps or hidden enemies. But nothing happened. No traps were triggered. No Rat-Men who were laying ambush jumped on him. It seemed the room was always empty and without any security.

The room was pitch black, even for his undead eyes. A strange glow emanated from a stone tablet on an altar-like structure. The tablet seemed to beckon him.

Arin approached the tablet. Its inscribed pattern felt familiar. As he tried to decipher it, a thick, oily substance dropped onto his shoulder, causing a burning sensation. Arin looked up to see bright yellow serpentine eyes. A cold, slippery lump of flesh brushed past him, and he found himself constricted by a huge serpent. Its crushing coils left only his hands free.

The serpent lifted him to its eye level. "Look who we have here, a cute little walking corpse!" it hissed. "I have not tasted your ilk ever. Let's see how you taste!"