Wyss’s heart pounded in his chest as he faced off against the group of highwaymen that had ambushed him shortly after being sent away by the Cave Mother. He had only recently discovered his ability to harness dark magic, and his control over it was tenuous at best. But he had no choice but to fight back against these ruthless bandits who had cornered him in the wastes of Astrousia.
The first attacker lunged forward with a sharp blade, Wyss instinctively threw up a shield of dark energy to deflect the blow. The impact cut through and sank into Wyss’s stomach, shaking him to his core, he struggled to maintain his concentration on the spell’s weave as he felt the warmth of his blood spill from him. More of the highwaymen closed in, laughing as they came in for the kill on an easy mark, brandishing swords and axes, and Wyss felt the panic rising within him.
But then something changed. An all-too-familiar surge of power coursed through Wyss’ veins, and the world around them seemed to shift and blur. The Cave Mother was once again seeing through his eyes. Wyss felt as though he was no longer human, but something else entirely – something dark and twisted and hungry.
The newborn Warlock began to move with newfound speed and agility, dodging and weaving through the blows of their attackers. Every time they were struck by a highwayman’s blade, they could feel their body knitting together again almost instantly, as though the shadows now surrounding Wyss were stitching the open wounds shut the moment he was cut open.
Then, as if on cue, Wyss felt the final transformation begin. His limbs appeared to become elongated and twisted, becoming cloaked in the shadow emitting from the open wounds that hadn’t healed since his fall into the tomb of the Cave Mother. His skin became porcelain-white under the ink-like blackness swirling around him and his facial features sharpened into an eerie, doll-like visage–the same of his patron and sworn enemy.
The highwaymen recoiled in horror as the shadowy fog flowing from Wyss surrounded them, growing thicker by the second, as if they were becoming trapped in a realm of dread. With a flick of his wrist, Wyss sent a blast of dark eldritch energy hurtling towards the nearest attacker, obliterating them in an explosion of shadow.
The remaining highwaymen ran in fear, but the dread warlock was ravenous. He moved with a graceful, almost inhuman fluidity, striking out with razor-sharp claws wreathed in crimson red magic that sliced effortlessly through flesh and bone, draining the life force of those cut down by its magic. The air around them crackled with dark magic, and their victims were powerless against the onslaught. What the bandits thought was their ambush became his hunting ground.
When it was all over and the last highwayman lay crumpled at his feet wearing a twisted expression of abject horror, Wyss sank to the ground, spent and shaky. He didn’t know what had just happened, but he did know one thing for sure: he was not entirely human anymore. And whatever creature the Cave Mother had made him to be, he knew it would be more of a curse than a blessing.
