Ketta Terace: Chapter 10

She fell.

The untold stories back down towards the abyss of darkness between the plateaus, her living hand white-knuckled and the magic amalgamation of her right hand clutching the demon sword as she sped to the depths.

“Well this is great.” came the voice of Failbe to her mind. “This is just perfect.” The tone of his voice was closer to mild frustration than outright sympathy as one might curse about a missing set of keys or a fresh stain on one’s shorts. Amylia only watched the dark sky grow farther away. The rush of wind passing her beyond the sensation of falling. She watched as a blue light formed above. An electrical light of new brilliance, no doubt from the very beast who had spit her out. The light grew greater in size and intensity. She readied the Blade of Failbe.

“You know I don’t know why I had any hope at all. I should know better than to trust some broken human with my immeasurable power.”

“Shut up.” She whispered into the wind.

“Well, soon you shall be dead and your nerves won’t matter so much.”

The blade’s edge was pointing at the growing light as it approached. The Kracktang’s electrical energies shining through the green aura around the silvery metal of her weapon. She contorted her body through the falling wind. The Kracktang rushed upon her. It swooped down with a blinding speed to meet her own falling form. Lightning-charged in its talons, death in its uninjured eye, and energy rippled on its wings. “You’re so powerful? Help me then.”

And the next moment was the conflagration of feathers, muscle, talons, and energy crashing together. She thrust the blade upward into the mass before their joined bodies flung with renewed vigor down through the air. Bursts of crackling blue in arcs and the glow of green light from Failbe’s Blade clashed as they tumbled.

There was all at once a roaring howl of deep guttural pain. It was a screech so deep and horrid that the bare rock of the plateau’s face rushing to one side of their bodies split into a deep rending fault. Her blade had struck home and spidering green energy grasped the creature from within. Through the violence of their impact, Amylia had protected her head and thrust the blade deep into the breast of the winged sentinel.

Holding tight to the handle, she let the greater weight of the Kracktang carry itself down below her until she was straddling over the dying breaths of her foe as it writhed. The wind caught in its panicked wings sent the pair of them into a spinning mass as they plummeted. The green energy crackled through the beast’s skin in spidery tendrils that utterly choked the life from the foe.

The darkness of the ground rose up to them and all at once there was a hard impact of the plateau floor and then the icy embrace of a plunge into black waters. The force pressed her against the breast of the great bird creature and its buoyancy brought them back to the surface like a cork. And thus, Amylia remained dripping wet astride the dead thing’s underbelly.

She fell back and rested, breathing heavily next to the sword’s handle protruding from the chest of the massive bird.

“Okay...Perhaps I spoke too soon. It does seem that you have some kind of Gods- damned Grival luck with you.”

“Just be quiet.” She said back to Failbe “I just need to rest...a moment to catch my breath.”

She was abruptly fast asleep upon the belly of her slain foe as it bobbed atop the water.

In truth, it was quite a long respite, relative to the rest she had acquired so far on Ketta Terrace. She slept soundly for a good while and sunk deep into a dreamless sleep. Yet, she was not able to truly savor this gift, for the serpent that dwelled within those very waters, had only just awoken.

The creature was patrolling his small kingdom of the lake for what sustenance could be provided a horrid and hungry eel of such size. Its rippling body was like that of a wisp of black smoke in darkness. Such a prize as a freshly butchered Kracktang could not go unnoticed for long. And indeed it was not.

The Prisoner’s world was immediately brought once again back into turmoil. There was a cry in her mind, “WAKE UP!” and then the gates of some massive trap closed over them from beneath the darkness in a splash of icy water and teeth. Amylia was flung high into the air while her previous foe/bed was snatched up from under her and dragged down into the watery inky blackness around her. She cried out as she surfaced some feet away with a hopeless agony, treading water with the knowledge that some new fresh hell had been set upon her. But as the pool quieted there came only the sound of her heartbeat and the soft lapping ripples against her body. She saw no sign or marker of where she was and no indication of what might have been the thief of the Kracktang’s corpse ...and the sword of Failbe.

Below her, the serpent silently devoured its prize. It heard the flits and paddling of Amylia, but to a great serpent of his size, she would do for little more than an afterthought. A kind of dessert snack. He did not notice at all the sharp blade of Failbe. Within his crunching maw the chunk of flesh the sword was fixed within was carried into its watery gullet.

Minutes passed as Amylia ran over her options. Tedious options the like of which had been coursing through her mind since she had arrived on this gods-forsaken place. Thoughts between survival and assured death, of which direction to take, and how to best make her slim chances survive the next hour. Not to mention losing the sword once again. It had all grown wearisome.

Somewhat fortunately, she did not need to run through these thoughts for long because as she became resolute to try and swim in a direction to find land, the great eel cruised up to her little body and swallowed her whole with little more thought than one would swat a fly.

By Jason Pratley

Jason Pratley joined the team sometime in 2013 when he created the concepts for the gods of ODR. He has since become the Writing Director and de facto loremaster for DDG. Check out some other stories and content at and