Nowaru

Gguamim struggled to open his eyes. In five years, he had still not grown accustomed to the suffocating air of the demon lands. Gguamim saw who he expected to see: an old man in gray clothes, like the stones of his native cave. But these were by no means rags—no, they were the garments of a worthy naramesh. One should not be deceived by the lack of decoration or armor; the old man was currently the second most powerful person in the city...
- Today you shall kill me - the old man said impassively.
- No.
- Yes! Get up. My final hours are running out, and I have not yet told you everything. The Queen's greatness is truly boundless. I know she calls me to her.
Gguamim listened with half an ear. This was supposed to be their last conversation, but the Assarian did not wish to admit the obvious. Images of the very recent past floated before his eyes. Five and a half years—a decent term by human standards, but for Gguamim, it all felt as if it had happened only yesterday.
.............................
Gguamim clearly remembered that creature. He had seen one for the first time. Six eyes and two pairs of webbed paws resembling wings. It could have passed for an oversized bat if not for a thick tail 4-5 poleaxes long. The Assarian knew that with such a burden, flying in a low cave was impossible.
A clawed paw snapped a stalactite like an icicle. However, Gguamim was no twenty-year-old boy to be impressed by this. Suddenly, the six-eyed monster lunged forward as if using its tail as a spring. But Gguamim was ready. He focused entirely on the opponent. The absolute darkness around was no obstacle for an Assarian's eyes. A fraction of a second before the paw was meant to crush his head, the poleaxe moved. Sharpened against a rare stone three times harder than granite, the axe blade slashed through the wing. A moment later, the spear point was inside the creature's maw. It must be unpleasant when a wing is cut off, but opening the mouth wasn't necessary. The point pierced the head straight through.
(!)
With his sixth sense, the sixty-two-year-old youth sensed danger from behind. But the weapon was stuck in the creature's strong teeth; the moment was missed. Or perhaps there was no moment at all.
Beyond that, only emptiness.
.............................
Gguamim woke up in a room. Everything simply hurt. Especially his bloodied legs. Several deep cuts had been made as if on purpose. It would be impossible to stand for some time.
His hands were also tied. Gguamim cautiously looked around. His neck throbbed in protest, but he grasped the essence. Three walls; on the fourth side was a grate of iron bars. They glowed dimly, apparently imbued with some kind of magic.
"And why wasn't I killed?... No one will look for me anyway. My brothers will decide that I encountered some particularly unpleasant monster. If anyone comes to them and demands payment for my life, they'll be left without a head. And escaping seems impossible; I'll have to wait."
............................
A dart pierced his shoulder. The Assarian's entire body seemed to stiffen, his vision blurred. Gguamim heard someone's voice but did not process the words. Some filth was shoved into his mouth. He had to swallow it.
After some time—perhaps a week had passed, or maybe more—Gguamim began to distinguish words. The same vile type of person spoke, calling himself Bokito, the senior servant of His Excellency, the noble Don Rumke, one of Queen Marzelda's advisors. He was the one who threw darts and fed him filth. Besides him, no one else entered the cage. Occasionally, noisy companies of people appeared. They stared at the Assarian and laughed.
Rumke had also been there; the servant described his master in detail. Gguamim managed to extract from these stories that some ninzjukis had sold the Assarian to him. The price mentioned was simply laughable. Another week later, Bokito said a corpse had been found in the Don's garden.
His legs healed, and Gguamim began to think about escaping. It was necessary to listen to this chatterbox Bokito as much as possible and wait another week for full resistance to the dart poison to develop. But the plan was not meant to be fulfilled.
...........................
The people from Ido did not kidnap Gguamim and sell him to Rumke without reason. The plan was far more layered, and the corpse of the king's relative in the garden was also part of it. Likely, the final design will remain unknown to anyone but them.
...........................
Four people entered the cage at once. No one even threw a dart. Gguamim regretted not untying the ropes, although he had been able to do so for a couple of days. Bokito checked the knots, but not too thoroughly; apparently, he was sure that due to the paralysis, the humanoid would be unable to move.
- As a sign of my respect for Elulu-Suen and Teios, I give you this slave.
- Oh, an Assarian... Right, you'll go to the demon lands with us - someone in full armor roared - we need someone to practice on.
- Dear Rumke, - a woman in luxurious clothes said melancholically, - I see that you are sincerely becoming a follower of the teaching. In the near future, you will undoubtedly reach great heights. For now, only meshed. The woman turned to Gguamim and began to recite some spell.
- But one hundred and fifty people accepted Elulu-Suen along with me!
- Their loyalty has not yet been proven, - the last stranger intervened, - perhaps they acted under coercion. My advice to you is this: prove your strength in battle against enemies. And you will easily be able to become a narahani.
"Spell of Subjugation" — This was the Assarian's last thought for a quite long period.
...........................
The red land of demons looked dead. Though why "looked"—it actually was. And the air is simply terrible; it's as if it's saturated with soot. Gguamim was free from both physical and mental shackles (or so it seemed to him); a stick lay at his feet, but he had not the slightest desire to move.
To the left stood two others, with similar sticks at their feet. They looked like humans. From behind a cliff appeared the already familiar roarer in plate armor together with someone short but muscular.
- Sixth stage of your trial, orc Buybak. Choose any of those standing ahead and defeat him while blindfolded.
- With ease - the ork smirked. I choose the scrawny one in the center.
The ork allowed himself to be blindfolded. Then he moved slowly toward the presumed opponent. It seems the human realized what was about to happen. And why wouldn't he; an axe with a blade wider than a head is hard to miss. He grabbed the stick and with considerable agility rushed behind the ork's back. But he failed to hide the sound of his steps. Buybak jumped and struck. A decent jump, about four times the height of the ork himself. The axe sliced through both the stick held up for a block and the thin man holding it.
- Buybak has passed the stage. Neeeext - roared the armored man.
A pale youth with a broken nose. La-Kas from Nozenrot. Of course, he didn't choose a human when Gguamim was available. But the Assarian had studied the art of death for nearly forty years. In the end, shooting blind is also difficult. It is no surprise that the first bullet flew past.
Gguamim put all the malice accumulated during his time rotting under Rumke into the strike. At first glance, a light brush against an unprotected neck, but the touch was lethal. The roaring demon immediately drew his sword.
The Assarian turned toward the armored man. Strike—sword block. Another strike—block again. On the fifth strike, the stick broke. A huge two-hander slammed flat against his head.
.............................
In reality, during the sixth stage of the "Path of Demons," mannequins—that is, trays with sticks—very rarely die. The purpose of the stage is to demonstrate the ability to act blindly. Those traversing the path perish far more often, but not here. Those who reach the sixth must withstand a couple of blows from a blunt wooden stick from a tray whose thoughts are under the influence of dream magic. Magic allows for decent control of consciousness, so mannequins should neither attempt to escape nor act in concert. They only attack according to their strength against the test-taker who chose them. Why did the magic fail? Apparently, the actions of the armored man—who is actually Ing Sozdot—could be interpreted as a choice. In any case, this was the conclusion reached by the council. The wisest Nozokl stated that he would deal with the mannequin. For he is too useful to simply kill. One only needs to make the magic work more reliably.
Nozokl, the same old man in gray clothes, oversaw the last, ninth stage. In it, two test-takers met in a deadly duel. Nozokl's task was to pair them up, roughly equal in ability. Since few reached the final stage, Nozokl had enough time for observing other stages, intrigues, and personal training. However, he could not reveal his main secret to anyone. A former head of a wasteland settlement, Nozokl surrendered without a fight and verbally accepted the teaching of Elulu-Suen. But in fact, he secretly maintained faith in Ninsharra. His advice on tribal customs and desert survival helped him climb quite high in the hierarchy of the teaching. But there was no one to pass his secret teaching to; all former wasteland dwellers who were meant to traverse the path had already become too fervent supporters of Elulu-Suen. But the tray-Assarian was exactly the chance Nozokl had been waiting for for nearly a year.
.............................
- Perhaps I can help you. But you will have to listen to me in everything. Or I'll tell the council that you are resistant to dream magic. They'll be convinced of your uselessness and kill you instantly. And then send you to Aggathan. - the old man leaned over the Assarian.
Gguamim could only nod weakly, for in reality, the dream magic was working perfectly.
.............................
The years passed monotonously. By day, Gguamim stood as a mannequin, quite successfully fending off visually impaired test-takers, but trying not to kill anyone else. A couple of times he did hit someone, of course, but that turned out to be a plus. Rumors, with Nozokl's help, spread through the city, and the Assarian was chosen far less often.
By night, he either listened to the old man's stories about Ninsharra and other stages, or trained as much as mental fatigue from the constantly applied magic and the terrible surrounding environment allowed. On Nozokl's advice, the humanoid declared that he wanted to accept the teaching of Elulu-Suen. This didn't rid him of the role of a mannequin, but at least the food improved and relative freedom of movement appeared—within the small area where the trays existed.
Escaping is impossible, the old man explained bluntly. The demon territory stretches for several days' journey, and beyond that lie the wastelands. Nozokl told many things about the wastelands, and going there without preparation was definitely not worth it. They would certainly catch him, and moreover, they would realize the teaching was not accepted genuinely. Nozokl would also suffer, as their communication could not be hidden anyway. On the contrary, the cunning Nozokl officially explained his actions as gathering information that no magic could squeeze out—about life in the caves of Assaria. He did have to tell some things, for example, about his favorite poleaxe—an effective weapon that allows both piercing, slashing, and crushing strikes, while being effective in defense.
.............................
Two days ago, Ea returned to the city. That same evening, she challenged the former ugaldagesi, the succubus Fy, to a duel. Why "former"? Because it's obvious how the duel ended. That day the old man accepted fourteen challenges; yesterday—only one, from Sozdot. Ea won't linger in the city; apparently, today Nozokl will officially become the local ruler.
- Why should I kill you? You can raise my caste anyway. There are no more who wish to challenge you. Ea won't want to kill an ugaldagesi again, as these bouts have already caused chaos.
- How many times must I repeat it for you to understand? I already smell my death. It has come for me. You see it too, don't you?
Gguamim remained silent. The old man is quite a trickster, but now he was telling the pure truth.
- I passed the teaching of Ninsharra specifically to you. If you can kill me, you will become a naramesh. You will gain freedom and then choose your own path. You could even truly accept Elulu-Suen.
- Never! I have nothing and will never have anything in common with Rumke. Or that chatterbox Bokito.
- Well, then it will be a wonderful opportunity to find them. I have a gift for you.
- What kind?
- You'll see soon. Do not forget to remain loyal to Ninsharra. But it is no less important to support Suen in words.
The old man left; he had already convinced Ea that the tray should also be present at such an important event—but personal control never hurts.
..............................
A crowd surrounded the square. Ea, several people of her retinue, and Nozokl stood in the center.
- Who wants to challenge Nozokl?
And there were no volunteers.
- What, absolutely no one?
- I do - a roar; it was the Ing-armored man.
- Sozdot, yesterday's bout should be enough for you.
- Are there any other contenders?
- I do. Gguamim finally decided.
A bearded Ilinar from the crowd immediately intervened:
- You, a tray? Against Nozokl? Defeat me first!
- Wait. - This was already Nozokl. - I believe the fight should be on equal terms. Someone immediately brought a bundle.
- Oh sure, giving a mannequin this stick against my favorite blade is quite fair. To each their weapon by merit!
Gguamim examined the new poleaxe, swinging it several times. So this was Nozokl's gift. He forgot nothing; even the butt end was sharpened. The dull glint of metal hinted that the poleaxe was coated in poison.
- Begin!
It took no effort to deflect the blade. Metal plates protect the shaft from being cut. The point on the lower end immediately struck the leg, and the next blow took the unlucky bearded man's head off.
...................................
Gguamim feared that the old man would hold back, and therefore delivered strikes that were fast but not at full strength. Nozokl dodged seven strikes, and blocked the last one with an open palm. He wasn't even scratched.
After another strike, this time to the back (and when did Nozokl manage to get behind him?), Gguamim lost consciousness for a few seconds.
"Or maybe he doesn't intend to lose to me?" — the thought crept in, but of course, it was just that victory should not look too simple.
He needed to fight seriously. A feint with the lower end. Immediately return to a defensive stance, because the old man saw through it and counterattacked. Another false lunge, now with the blunt, crushing part. Back into defense to avoid a counterattack. This game went on for about five minutes. Finally, Gguamim decided on a piercing strike. He had no doubt that Nozokl would dodge, and was already preparing to kick at the presumed point of deviation. But the strike unexpectedly landed. Either Nozokl didn't believe this swing wasn't a feint, or he truly decided to give in... It's impossible to know now; even a light touch became lethal.
..................................
Everything happened as the old man predicted. Gguamim officially became a naramesh. No one tried to apply dreams to him anymore, and being a mannequin was no longer necessary. Perhaps he should have stayed and saved money for the road home. But Gguamim feared that the falseness of his views on Elulu-Suen would be revealed, and used his freedom as soon as he could. On the way from Teios, he looked for traces of Rumke but heard nothing useful. He even managed to participate in the "pacification of a rebellious Shuniyite," but the modest sum for this "feat" vanished before the border of Ilinar.

Equipment: A magnificently made poleaxe, Nozokl's gift. Light, albeit worn, clothing. Several suspicious fish caught in some river (yes, you can't catch fish with a sword, but with a poleaxe, it's easy).


Race: Assarian.
Race Bonus: Hunter (Nozenrot)
Death branch talent cost -1.

Religion: Sun Goddess.
Passive
* SP +10%, AGI +15%, ACC +15%
Ninsharra's Poison (1)
The character's weapons or ammunition are always coated in lethal poison.
On attacks: -10% of current characteristics.
+10% chance to paralyze enemy.
+5% chance to kill enemy instantly.
The priest himself is immune to all poisons.

Domain: Onitan (demon land)
Origin Bonus: ACC +30%, AGI +30%, MEN +20%, MOV +4

Strength: 5
Endurance: 17
Agility: 36
Perception: 50
Consciousness: 12
Magic: 0

Warfare

Scout
Initiative +1
MOV +2
Ability to quickly gather information about the nearby territory.(1) (1)

Polearms

Polearm Proficiency
Penalty when using polearms is negated. (1)
Parrying
ACC vs opponent's ACC. (1)
Onslaught
Deals 8 strikes to the opponent with 15% damage. Can be used together with a heart strike.
Cooldown: 6 turns (AGI=25), 5 turns (AGI=35), 4 turns (AGI=45), 3 turns (AGI=50). (1)
Snake Reflexes
Agility=+% ACC (1)

Art of Death

God of Death
Agility+perception/3=chance to instantly kill opponent in melee combat.
When used together with onslaught, the chance is halved.(2)
Beheading
The character's next attack will be lethal (melee).
175 (2)

Thanks to Artz for the images