Bloodpiercer

Lucian stirred, his body heavy and sluggish as though chains of exhaustion had been wrapped around him in his sleep. His skull throbbed like a drum beaten in uneven rhythm, and when he sat up, the world swayed briefly before stabilizing. His hand instinctively reached for the floor, steadying himself as his gaze fell on the scene that had changed his reality.

The site of the card creation was a grim sight. The husks of the three Windstalkers lay splayed on the ground, their forms barely recognizable as the vibrant predators they had been. Their feathered bodies were drained, the metallic sheen of their beaks dulled to lifeless gray. No blood stained the floor, only the dry, brittle shells of what they once were.

Lucian's eyes settled on the card. It sat among the remains like a jewel in a crown of ash, glinting faintly in the dim light. When he picked it up, the metallic surface was cold and smooth, a sharp contrast to the texture of cards crafted by the soul carver. This one felt... authentic, akin to the orthodox cards used by the Diamond suits. Yet it carried an edge of something darker.

His fingers traced the engraved image, a throwing dagger mid-flight, its edges almost alive with energy. In the background, shadowy forms of Windstalkers dove in arcs, as though pulled toward their prey. The highlights were tinged with red, faint but striking against the otherwise steel-gray card. It hummed faintly against his skin, a low vibration that resonated like a second heartbeat.

Lucian focused his thoughts, willing the card to reveal its description.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Name: Bloodpiercer

Rarity: Uncommon

Rank: Rankless

Suit: Diamond

Description:

Bloodpiercer is a spectral throwing dagger that guarantees a strike to the chosen target. Upon impact, it inflicts a wound that bleeds profusely, bypassing natural and magical healing. The more the victim moves or resists, the faster their vitality drains, leaving them weakened and vulnerable.

Weakness (Hidden):

Using Bloodpiercer curses the wielder with an innate hostility from all avian species for 24 hours. Birds and other avian creatures will view the user as a dire threat, attacking or avoiding them with aggressive precision. Additionally, the chaotic energy infused in the card affects the user's emotions, making them more prone to anger and impulsiveness while they hold it, clouding their judgment in tense situations.

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The final detail made his stomach tighten. A hidden weakness etched into the card, veiled from ordinary sight. Lucian frowned, unsure why it remained obscured. Turning inward, he called out to Triboulet, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. "Why is the weakness hidden?"

Triboulet's laughter slithered through his mind, dark and knowing. "Ah, my dear wildcard, you truly are ignorant of your own nature. The weakness is cloaked because it is born of chaos, visible only to those who have already touched it. Wildcards like you can see it clearly. As for the high-ranking suits," he paused, his tone turning sly, "they cannot see it. They can only feel it. Their heightened senses let them glimpse the edges of chaos, like a shadow brushing the corner of their vision. But understanding? That is a gift reserved for those who bear chaos within them."

Lucian's grip on the card tightened as whispers brushed against the edges of his thoughts. They had been there since the card's creation, low and insidious, pressing against his mind like a predator testing the strength of its cage. They seemed to sense his unease, growing louder for a fleeting moment before receding again, leaving a faint echo in their wake.

A sudden warmth seared through Lucian's hand, sharp and startling. He flinched, his breath hitching as panic flared in his chest. He raised his hand quickly, his eyes widening in disbelief as he saw the mark etched into his skin. Inside the open mouth of a laughing joker, the jagged "1" glowed faintly, the light flickering like a taunt. His mind raced, the implications sinking in like a stone in water.

"What the hell..." he muttered, his voice barely audible as he turned his hand over, inspecting the mark from every angle. The realization that it wasn't fading, that it was now a part of him, made his stomach churn.

Triboulet's laughter erupted in his mind, harsh and jarring. "Well, well" the voice purred, dripping with mockery. "It seems our little creator has earned his stripes. Congratulations, Lucian. You've taken your first step. But every step has its price, doesn't it?"

Lucian's jaw tightened, his heart pounding as he forced the panic back. "So this is why you wanted to help me," he said through gritted teeth. The words came unbidden, his frustration boiling over. "Why? Do you want me to go insane? If that happens, I'll die... and so will you."

Triboulet's laughter only grew louder, filling Lucian's thoughts with its manic, jagged edge. "Oh, Lucian," he said, his tone rich with amusement. "You really don't understand, do you? You know nothing about what I want, or what I am. Your sanity? Your life? Those are just pieces in the game."

The whispers stirred again, pressing against the edges of Lucian's sanity like a creeping tide. They curled around his thoughts, testing his resolve, waiting for a moment of weakness to seep in. Lucian clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as he forced himself to focus. He couldn't falter now. Not here. Not with Triboulet watching, waiting for the cracks to form.

"I need answers," he muttered to himself, his voice sharpening with determination. "And now that I know what you're after, you'll give me more than just riddles. You want chaos? Then pay for it." He pushed the unsettling presence to the back of his mind and focused, descending inward to confront Triboulet.

The Joker's grin was as maddening as ever, his form a flickering mirage at the edge of Lucian's thoughts, coiling like smoke around his awareness. Triboulet lounged in his usual space, a figure of irreverence and chaos, exuding the kind of arrogance that made Lucian's teeth grind. This time, though, he wasn't here to be led by the nose.

"You want me to walk this path? Fine," Lucian said, his tone measured but edged with steel. "But we're making it worth my while. I want the details. Everything. No tricks, no half-answers."

Triboulet's eyes gleamed, the glint of amusement dancing behind them. He leaned forward slightly, his voice a low purr. "Oh, now you're learning. Bargaining with chaos? Bold. Stupid, but bold. Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Start with the process," Lucian demanded. "If I'm going to create more, I need to know every piece of it."

Triboulet chuckled, the sound slithering through Lucian's mind like a snake brushing against skin. "Oh, my dear wildcard, the chaos energy does most of the work. You simply need to focus on your desire, and the energy carves the pathways as you will it. Simple enough, isn't it?" He paused, his grin widening into something feral. "But here's the catch: the base must be strong. Life is the best fuel, and chaos... oh, chaos loves life. Beasts, humans, it doesn't matter. But sentient life?" His tone turned almost reverent, the malice beneath it chilling. "That is chaos's true feast. The stronger the will, the richer the energy. The more it has to draw from, the better the result."

Lucian didn't flinch, his voice cutting through Triboulet's theatrics. "And the suits? How are they aligned? What determines what I can create?"

Triboulet's gaze narrowed slightly, though his grin never faltered. "That, my dear wildcard, is dictated by your intent. Metal, strength, resilience, that pulls toward Diamond. Elements? You'll fall into the classical suits. But chaos, chaos breaks the rules. It twists, blurs, and redefines. It's not bound by your neat little system. Isn't that just delicious?" His grin widened further as he added, "And remember, Lucian, you're a wildcard. You're not limited to one suit. With chaos as your ally, every suit is within your reach. You are not bound like the others."

Lucian pressed on, his questions coming quickly, his voice firm. He wasn't here for riddles or showmanship. He demanded answers about orthodox methods, the hidden weaknesses, and the perplexing absence of a rank on Bloodpiercer. Triboulet's responses were a mixture of clarity and derision, each answer tinged with his usual disdain for order.

"The orthodox suits are shackled by tradition," Triboulet sneered, his tone dripping with contempt. "They can't comprehend the freedom chaos offers. They craft within their rigid little boxes, limiting themselves with rules and hierarchies."

Lucian's brow furrowed, his mind circling back to the card's rank. "Why is Bloodpiercer rankless, the same as Smoldering Veil? Even a rank 1 or 3 card doesn't compare to their effects. Does chaos just ignore standards entirely?"

Triboulet's laughter was sharp and mocking, reverberating through Lucian's mind. "Oh, you truly don't understand, do you? The universal standard is not chaos's standard. Those rankings you're so fixated on? They belong to the orthodox way. Chaos doesn't conform to their neat little hierarchies. The rank on your card is merely a placeholder, something the system recognizes, but it has no bearing on its true power. Chaos isn't about numbers, Lucian. It's about intent, efficiency, and results. You willed Bloodpiercer into being exactly as it is. That's all that matters."

Lucian's grip tightened, frustration bubbling beneath his surface. The explanation made sense in Triboulet's twisted logic, but it didn't sit well with him. Numbers were supposed to mean something, to measure worth and strength. Yet here, they were rendered meaningless.

Triboulet chuckled again, sensing his unease. "Why fret over a number, my dear wildcard? You're not bound by their rules anymore. Embrace the freedom, or stay chained to their scales. It's your choice."

Lucian's jaw tightened as he considered the implications. After a moment, he spoke, his tone firm. "I'm not worried about their rules. But if Bloodpiercer is left rankless, people will start to question it. Add the '1' to the card. It'll stop doubts before they start."

Triboulet let out a low, amused laugh. "How practical of you. Fine, if it eases your fragile little concerns, I'll grant your request. But remember, Lucian, the rank is only a mask. The true power lies beneath it, hidden in the chaos you've already embraced."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Name: Bloodpiercer

Rarity: Uncommon

Rank: 1

Suit: Diamond

Description:

Bloodpiercer is a spectral throwing dagger that guarantees a strike to the chosen target. Upon impact, it inflicts a wound that bleeds profusely, bypassing natural and magical healing. The more the victim moves or resists, the faster their vitality drains, leaving them weakened and vulnerable.

Weakness (Hidden):

Using Bloodpiercer curses the wielder with an innate hostility from all avian species for 24 hours. Birds and other avian creatures will view the user as a dire threat, attacking or avoiding them with aggressive precision. Additionally, the chaotic energy infused in the card affects the user's emotions, making them more prone to anger and impulsiveness while they hold it, clouding their judgment in tense situations.

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Lucian leaned forward, his tone sharper now. "And the wildcard suits? What's the deal with them? How are they created?"

Triboulet's laughter erupted, wild and jagged, reverberating through Lucian's thoughts. It was a sound that made his skin crawl, the kind of laughter that carried too much knowing malice. "Oh, my greedy little wildcard," Triboulet purred, his voice laced with mockery. "You've barely scratched the surface of chaos, and already you want to tear the whole curtain down. Patience, child. The answers will come if you survive long enough to earn them."

….

The common room of the inn was quiet when Lucian descended the stairs. The morning light spilled through the grimy windows, illuminating floating motes of dust and casting long shadows across the worn wooden floor. At the bar, Chance was already at work, his broad back hunched over as he scrubbed the counter with mechanical precision. A faint scent of stale ale clung to the air, mixing with the earthy aroma of rye bread from the kitchen.

Chance glanced up as Lucian approached, his sharp eyes betraying his curiosity even as he kept his tone casual. "You're up early," he said, setting the cloth aside. "What's got you moving this early?"

Lucian slid onto one of the stools, nodding faintly. "Old Snake gave me a task. I need to finish it today."

Chance arched an eyebrow, though his expression remained neutral. "Not bad. If he's got you working for him, you must've done something right."

Lucian shrugged, keeping his tone measured. "We'll see. He's still testing me."

Chance let out a low hum, his gaze lingering on Lucian for a moment before turning to the back to retrieve his meal. Moments later, a steaming bowl of porridge and a slice of rye bread were placed before him. The food was plain, but its warmth offered a small comfort.

"Just watch yourself," Chance said finally, his voice quieter now. "Old Snake doesn't give work without a price."

Lucian gave a faint nod in acknowledgment and finished his meal quickly. Offering a brief thanks, he stepped out into the morning air. The streets of Rismond were beginning to stir, the low hum of activity rising as merchants opened their stalls and the city woke to another day.

Old Snake's shop was a crooked building wedged between two larger, more imposing structures. Its wooden beams sagged under the weight of years, and the faint creak of the door announced Lucian's arrival. Inside, the shop was dimly lit, its air thick with the scent of parchment, ink, and something faintly metallic. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with cards, scraps of enchanted materials, and tools for crafting.

Old Snake looked up from his workbench as Lucian entered, his beady eyes narrowing in recognition. "You're back sooner than I expected," he said, his tone gruff but tinged with curiosity. "Let's see what you've got."

Lucian stepped forward, retrieving the Bloodpiercer card from his cloak and placing it on the counter. The old man's hands were quick but careful as he picked it up, his eyes narrowing as he examined its surface. He turned the card over, his fingers tracing the etched design with practiced precision. When he activated its energy, the faint hum filled the air, and his expression shifted from skepticism to something closer to awe.

"This... this is good," Old Snake muttered, his voice softer than usual. "The craftsmanship is solid, and the effect..." He trailed off, his gaze flicking to Lucian. "You're telling me you made this?"

Lucian nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "I just complied with what you have asked. The materials were low-grade, but I made do."

Old Snake didn't respond immediately. His eyes were fixed on the card, and his lips moved faintly as he read its description. When he reached the part about the guaranteed strike and the debilitating bleeding effect, he let out a low whistle. "This could sell for a fortune," he said, more to himself than to Lucian. His mind seemed to wander as he stared at the card, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Lucian cleared his throat, breaking the man's reverie. "So, do I pass? Can I take on work here?"

Old Snake blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. "Huh? Oh, yes, you pass. But first..." He leaned forward, his sharp eyes locking onto Lucian's. "How much are you willing to sell this card."

Lucian hesitated for a moment before glancing inward. "Triboulet what's this card worth?" he called in his mind.

The Joker's voice slithered into his thoughts, gleeful and mocking. "Fifty silver, at the very least. A fine piece like this? You could fetch more if you're dealing with someone desperate."

Lucian relayed the price without hesitation. "Fifty silver or more."

Old Snake's expression darkened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "Fifty? For this? Don't kid yourself, boy. The materials are low-tier. This card won't last more than a year. I'll give you fifteen silver, and that's me being generous."

Lucian's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Fifteen is an insult," he said, his tone firm. "The effect alone makes it worth at least sixty."

The two began to haggle, their voices rising and falling as they debated the card's value. Old Snake was relentless, pointing out every flaw he could find, while Lucian countered with the card's undeniable power and potential. The exchange dragged on until finally, they settled on forty-five silver.

"Fine," Old Snake said, slapping a small pouch of coins onto the counter. His tone was curt, but there was a grudging respect in his gaze. "Forty-five it is. And let me tell you, boy, if you've got more cards like this up your sleeve, you come straight to me. You'll find no better buyer in Rismond." Despite his feigned reluctance, a glint of satisfaction flickered in his eyes. He knew he had struck gold with the card, and it would fetch a far higher price. But keeping Lucian tethered to him was the real prize. Looking like he had been forced into the deal ensured the boy wouldn't start seeking another buyer.

Lucian pocketed the coins, his expression unreadable. "I'll think about it. What about the job?"

Old Snake waved a hand dismissively. "Come back tomorrow. I'll see what I've got for you. Now, get out of here. I've got work to do."

As Lucian left the shop, he couldn't shake the feeling that Old Snake was hiding something. The old man's demeanor had shifted subtly, his interest in Lucian's skills taking on a sharper, almost predatory edge. Lucian tightened his cloak around him as he walked, his thoughts a mixture of unease and resignation.

Triboulet's voice slithered into his mind, sharp and mocking. "You've made a deal with a snake, Lucian. And not even a clever one. That card is worth more than double what you got. You were played, plain and simple. A losing deal, through and through."

Lucian's jaw tightened, and he responded under his breath, his tone clipped. "I know. But I didn't have a choice. Better to deal with someone I know, even a little, than to gamble with strangers. At least this way, I know where I stand."

Triboulet's laughter was cold and jagged. "Oh, you think you know where you stand? Adorable. Just remember, snakes bite when you least expect it."

Meanwhile, back in the quiet of his shop, Old Snake sat at his workbench, turning the Bloodpiercer card over in his hands. A sly grin spread across his face as he studied it, the wheels in his mind turning. "Chance, you've done me a favor with this one," he muttered, his tone dripping with satisfaction. He already had ideas for how to maximize his gains, but for now, he played the role of the begrudging partner.

Rising from his chair, Old Snake moved to the back of the shop, his steps deliberate. From a hidden compartment beneath a loose floorboard, he retrieved a card, its surface glimmering faintly with latent energy. Holding it carefully between his fingers, he muttered a command under his breath, his voice low and firm. The card pulsed with light, its energy flaring briefly before dimming to a faint glow. Old Snake's expression grew grim, his gaze fixed on the card as though waiting for a reply. Moments later, a faint voice echoed from the card, too soft to be discerned, but it was clear: he was speaking to someone.