That is weird, because all I was doing was using rags, and none of them were on fire. No matter, I'll stick with the current version I grabbed.
Screenshot:Finally healed up, it's been...if I recall, five days since the spring equinox? Far as I'm concerned, fifth day of my attempt to stop running, stop scavenging, and actually do something useful.
My first target is the clearing west of the cursed structure. I can see some form of imp wandering the area, along with the chitinous monster I had a brief scuffle with. The imp was chasing after a wild moose it seemed, while the abominable thing was easily chased down and crushed. Now I witnessed it, grasped the lingering life force of this hideous thing. I am reminded of my mission, and that this otherworldly power represents everything we have fought against.
The others of my order believe these motes of essence are fragmented pieces of these monsters souls, unable to pass on due to being trapped in our world. Not only is it dangerous to use this as a source of power, it is disrespectful to the dead, alien in nature as these beings may be. The ritual thus not only renders it harmless, but is meant to pacify their lingering spirit.
I'm not sure what the consecrated energy left behind is meant to be, though. I vaguely recall the teachings mentioning that the power that drew them here is in some way involved. All that matters is this remaining energy is a necessary evil.
There are other bodies scattered about the clearing. Possibly those who strayed too close to the impact crater. I meditate once more, before continuing my advance.
Screenshot:On the wind I hear chanting. Strange sounds, voices. I visited one of these cultist enclaves before, when our orders were on friendlier terms. Their chants and hymns did not sound so unnerving. Have they changed, corrupted by their pursuit of an otherworldly god? Or is something else at work here?
The flying...tentacle things are overtly the greatest outside threat. Fast and hard to kill, if I recall. I decide to wait until nightfall to begin an attack.
First I see the visage of a strange floating eye, engulfed in foxfire that lit up its surroundings. Meeting its gaze was sickening, but the light it gave off made it my first target. That it seemed to see me even in the dead of night was further reason to target it first.
But stepping into the light attracted attention. A few shuffling forms, mere revenents. These weren't the common undead I've seen wandering near the roads though. They wore robes and other apparel marking them as servants of the Veiled God, or whatever the ones attending the floating temple were called. In my earlier panic, I did not get a good luck at them, and did not see that they had evidently succumbed to some calamity. But that means the source of the wicked hymns is no living being.
I finally reached the crater, where I found the body of my companion. I feel terrible for taking these supplies from her, but I must. But these flying monsters were soon enough upon me again, and in disgrace I am forced to retreat a second time.
More revenants meander along the road, a morbid source of clothing to salvage. I have managed to repair and reinforce most of my gear, but my gilded aegis is in bad condition. Not confident of my ability to repair this, so my best option may be to simply stash it for now, to not risk further damage. To go into battle without the ability to mend wounds is bad, but losing it permanently is worse.
Instead, I have a plan. The golden scales of this cloak, while better than nothing, aren't really ideal as armor. They're more of a symbol, overtly declaring who we are. I need to figure out how to make proper armor, to match the helm I wear, the gauntlets and boots as well. I managed to make a simple padded leather manica to protect my arms, but that is only part of my plan. Until then, I cover myself with a simple coat, providing more pockets as well.