Prototype's Gate

"Astarion I think we deserve an explanation " Wyll said as he moved his gaze from where Raphael was a moment ago to Astarion

Astarion, visibly shaken, made his way to the counter where two tieflings were locked in a heated argument. Alex recognized them immediately—they were the same ones he had saved from the tower prison. Astarion grabbed a bottle of alcohol that had been left out, returning to the table where the party gathered, preparing to share more about his harrowing past with Cazador.

But Alex's attention lingered on the two Tieflings . They kept glancing at him, their eyes filled with uncertainty and fear. He focused his hearing, tuning into their conversation.

"Lia, maybe he will help if we ask him. If we go alone, we might not return," the Tiefling man, Cal, said, his voice tinged with worry as he looked at the woman beside him.

"Cal… He already saved our skins twice. What are the chances he'll do it a third time?" Lia responded, her voice heavy with resignation as she stared at the ground, her fists clenched by her side. She muttered, "Why does Rolan have to be so stupid…"

The mention of Rolan piqued Alex’s interest. Rolan was a brash Tiefling mage he had met back at the grove. He remembered how Rolan had boasted at the celebration after their victory over the Absolute's forces, proclaiming himself a prodigy destined for greatness. Even Gale had agreed that Rolan had potential, provided he found the right master and put in the hard work.

"What do you need my help for?" Alex’s voice cut through their hushed conversation, making both Tieflings flinch.

Cal and Lia exchanged a glance, silently debating whether to speak up. Finally, Lia found her voice. "Our cousin, Rolan. The Harpers told us he left the inn after getting drunk, saying he would save everyone. He hasn’t returned yet, and we fear something must have happened to him." She looked directly at Alex, her eyes pleading. "Can you find him?"

"Do you have something that belonged to him? Something personal?" Alex asked.

Lia fished out a handkerchief and handed it to Alex. He took it, inspecting it carefully .

"I’ll see what I can do," he said, turning back toward the table where the rest of the party sat.

As he approached, he caught the tail end of a conversation. Shadowheart was half-mocking Astarion, "That explains why you are the way you are."

"I guess it does," Astarion replied dryly, taking a swig of wine.

Alex joined them, his armored form imposing as he sat beside them. They tried to appear calm but it was clear that they felt uncomfortable around him .

"Someone’s asked me to save someone foolish enough to wander alone into the shadow-cursed lands," Alex explained. "Once I’ve saved him, I plan to head west from here. You can come with me if you want, but be warned—the curse grows stronger in that direction."

The room fell silent for a moment, the gravity of his words sinking in. They knew Zeus could easily handle the mission on his own but for whatever reason he asked for their assistance. The reason being that they could prove useful investigating the House of Healing.

As Alex waited for them to decide whether they would join him, he received an urgent telepathic message from Lump.

"Alex, can you come to the cellar? I urgently require your assistance," Lump pleaded, his mental voice tinged with distress.

"What happened?" Alex asked, his senses immediately sharpening.

"It would be easier for you to see with your own eyes," Lump replied, his tone evasive yet filled with urgency.

"I need to check something," Alex said to the group as he rose from his chair. Without waiting for a response, he made his way to the cellar.

The moment he stepped inside he could smell, the thick, coppery scent of blood . It was unmistakable, and Alex’s gaze narrowed as he honed in on its source. Lump stood near a wall, his large frame hunched over, blood dripping through his fingers as he covered his face.

"What happened to you, Lump?" Alex asked, as he approached the injured ogre.

Lump slowly removed his hand, revealing a gruesome sight. His face looked as if it had been put through a meat grinder; the skin was shredded, and even his eyes were reduced to minced remnants, slowly oozing from their sockets down his disfigured face.

"I got attacked by meenlocks while taking a nap," Lump explained, his voice trembling with pain and humiliation.

Without hesitation, Alex placed his hand over the bloody ruin of Lump’s face. Tendrils of flesh extended from his hand, swiftly knitting together the torn tissue and restoring the ogre’s features.

"Many thanks for mending my exquisite face," Lump said, his fingers tracing the newly healed skin, his voice filled with relief and gratitude.

Alex nodded, then moved inside the cellar next to where Marcus body was ."I should tell them at some point that Marcus is dead . " Alex tough . He approached a section of the wall and, with a few calculated punches, revealed a hidden room behind the crates.

The room was sparse, with a beautifully crafted stone fireplace on the left and broken furniture scattered about. A solid metal double door stood to the side , that seemed to be lock after he tried to open it. He placed his hand over the lock, and after a moment, he heard a satisfying click. The door creaked open, revealing an underground water channel that he saw through the metal grates in the cellar.

To his right was a deep chasm, the water flowing into it forming a small waterfall that disappeared into the darkness below. To his left, a broken pipe jutted from the cave ceiling, the foul smell emanating from it indicating its purpose. However, it wasn’t just waste that had accumulated there. Among the vegetation growing around the water, Alex found a chest. After deftly disarming the bomb hidden inside, he retrieved a glowing ring from the bottom of the chest. He absorbed its magic, revealing a minor enchantment that added a bit of radiant damage to his spells when illuminated.

Continuing forward, he pushed open another door, revealing a massive cave. Twisted roots wound through the space, and a silvery light from above illuminated the area ahead. He barely took a few steps before stopping, sensing the presence of dozens of feeble, malevolent minds lurking in the shadows.

"I found myself some practice targets," Alex thought, as he vaulted over a thick root. Up ahead, he spotted a wooden platform with a shrine to Selune, bathed in the same silvery light that washed over the cave. To his right, a large stone statue of the goddess stood, its serene face glowing in the soft light. Chests, crates, and various trinkets lay scattered around the platform, adding to the eerie, abandoned atmosphere.

As he moved closer, something swept across the ground where his legs had been just moments before. He quickly spun around, his gaze locking onto the creature responsible. The thing was hideous, standing barely 0.6 meters tall, its deformed body hunched over and covered in cysts, sores, and shaggy, spine-like hair. Its yellow, insectoid eyes, devoid of pupils, glared at him, shining with malevolence in the darkness. Unlike the rest of its body, its head was white and hairless, with a flat nose and a small, toothy mouth. The meenlock let out a screech before disappearing in a puff of dark mist.

Alex’s senses heightened as he heard the clicks and scuttling of more meenlocks in the darkness around the cave. They were everywhere, their malevolent intent radiating through the gloom trying to pierce his mind .

Over Alex's head, a small orb began to form, appearing like a droplet of mercury suspended in the air. The silvery substance seemed to flow directly from his body, coalescing into a shimmering sphere that floated silently through the darkness. It hovered in the center of the cave for a moment before erupting in a blinding flash of light, bathing the entire cavern in silvery luminescence.

The meenlocks screeched in agony as the light penetrated every shadowy crevice. Their twisted forms were revealed as they clawed desperately at the cave walls, their skin smoking and blistering under the relentless radiance. The light didn’t fade; instead, it remained suspended in the air, like a miniature moon, casting its purifying glow across the chamber.

Another sphere formed in Alex’s hand, this time the substance was a brilliant gold. It flowed and shifted, shaping itself into a simple yet elegant golden bow. With a practiced motion, Alex grasped the bowstring and pulled, watching as an arrow of pure light materialized in his grip.

He released the arrow, and it flew straight and true, impaling one of the writhing meenlocks and pinning it to the wall. The creature's body was instantly consumed by golden flames, reducing it to nothing but ash.

"Interesting," Alex muttered to himself as he drew the bowstring once more. This time, he deliberately angled the shot slightly off target. The arrow soared through the air but, instead of missing, it curved mid-flight and struck another meenlock. Like the first, the creature was engulfed in holy fire, its agonized cries echoing through the cave.

Alex pulled the string a third time . He released the arrow, and as it shot forward, it split into dozens of smaller arrows that swarmed the cave, each one tracking a different meenlock. The air was filled with the sound of sizzling flesh and dying screeches as the arrows found their marks, obliterating every last one of the hideous creatures.

With the threat eliminated, Alex raised his hand, and the arrows that had scattered throughout the cave reversed their trajectory, flying back to him. They reformed into a small golden sphere, which then merged seamlessly back into his body. The silvery orb of light that had been illuminating the cave followed suit, returning to him and entering his form. As it did, the light shifted within him, gold turning to silver and silver to gold, a perfect exchange of power.

The melding with Glut had a profound effect on Alex, not only amplifying the divine energy that flowed through him but also giving him a level of control he'd never experienced before. Previously, the powers of Selûne and Lathander had felt alien, as though they were foreign implants within his body, something his flesh had to constantly adapt to. Now, however, the divine energy felt natural, as if it had always been a part of him, seamlessly integrated into his very being.

A tendrils of flesh sprouted from his back and shoot from one of the meenlocks carcasses that didn't got burned to ash consuming it .

A torrent of twisted memories flooded his mind. He saw flashes of dark, damp caverns lit only by the faint glow of phosphorescent fungi. The meenlock's existence was one of perpetual fear and malice, a creature born of darkness and despair. In its fragmented memories, Alex witnessed the creature's creation—a tormented soul, once human, transformed by the relentless telepathic torture of other meenlocks. The pain, the suffocating darkness, and the loss of its humanity were etched deeply into its being.

He saw through the meenlock's eyes as it stalked through the shadows, driven by an insatiable hunger to spread its curse. It relished the terror it inflicted on its victims, feeding off their fear and despair. Each time it and its kin dragged another hapless victim into the darkness, the transformation was gruesome, a process of breaking down a soul’s will until only a twisted reflection of its former self remained.

In a twisted corner of the meenlock’s mind, Alex sensed a fragment of the creature’s last thoughts before its death—a mix of hatred for the light that burned its flesh .

Alex approached the shrine, noticing a small, weathered notebook lying at the feet of the statue. He picked it up and opened it, revealing a series of entries. Hidden among columns detailing the mundane income and expenditures of a tavern was an urgent aside, written in tiny, hurried handwriting:

"I have concealed the sacred relics of our revered goddess in the darkest corner of this place. Morfred, my loyal brother, seeks to forge a network of allies to stand against the oppressive reign of Ketheric Thorm. Sadly, fear has gripped the hearts of many, turning them away from our cause. I cannot truly blame them, for trepidation fills my soul as well - but I must put aside my own fears and reunite with Morfred in the bowels of the Mason's Guild. Together, we shall preserve what we can of the Moonmaiden's light, and hope that the banners of the faithful soon rise against that treacherous dog, Thorm."

"Maybe I should investigate the Mason's Guild," Alex muttered as he carefully placed the notebook back where he'd found it.

He thoroughly inspected the cave, ensuring there were no more hidden meenlocks lying in wait. Fortunately, he found none, though he did discover another secret passage that led to the cellar from the opposite side of where he had entered. The realization struck him that had he not eradicated the meenlocks, they would have posed a grave threat. These creatures had no conventional method of reproduction; instead, they created more of their kind by telepathically torturing an unconscious humanoid victim, forcing them through a metamorphosis into a fully grown meenlock. The people he saved that were held under the Moonlight Towers would have been perfect targets for this horrific process, already weakened and traumatized by their captivity.

Deciding not to retrace his steps back to the cellar, Alex noticed vines near the door that led out of the cave, leading upward toward what appeared to be a foundation. He began to climb, feeling the cursed mist growing thicker around him. However, his body was shielded by a barrier of light that pushed the mist away, keeping him safe from its malevolent touch.

He climbed into a small, derelict house, the furniture within eaten away by roots and the passage of time.The place was dilapidated—furniture gnawed away by the roots of time, a fireplace long extinguished, and broken colored windows that offered a hazy view of the cursed landscape outside. The curse was strong here, the mist thick and oppressive, but through one of the broken windows, Alex could see the dome of silvery light glowing just ten meters ahead.

Exploring further, he came across a small room where two skeletons lay entwined on a small bed . One skeleton, clearly a man by the size of the bones, was hugging the other, a woman. On their pinky fingers, they both wore gold rings adorned with small gems. The scene was somber, a poignant reminder of lives lost to the curse.

His attention was drawn to an opulent chest in the corner of the room. He carefully picked the lock and opened it, finding a piece of armor within. The very fabric of the armor seemed to blend with the shadows around it. Alex quickly consumed the item, the armor reforming around his body.

"An enchantment that increases the attack of the wearer while obscured," Alex noted. "This could be useful for Astarion."

Taking one last glance at the embracing skeletons, Alex turned and left the small house, heading back to the island.