The Forsaken Crypts

by Terry C. Simpson

  Returning his attention to the chest, he noted strips of dried meat. He took up a strip and sniffed it. The meat had a smoked odor. He bit off a chunk. Indeed, the flavor was smoked, the taste similar to beef. Chewing, he stuffed the remainder of the meat into his belt pouches. He took a swig of warm water from the canteen to wash down the meat then placed the metal container into its satchel beside the pouches.

  At the bottom of the chest was a set of drake reins, large enough to fit a neck as wide as Frost’s arms could stretch to form a circle. Frost smiled at Gilda’s foresight. He hadn’t considered that he’d abandoned the last reins back in Soleb. He picked up the set.

  Acquired item: Young Drake Reins

  Allows for basic flight

  Young drake required

  Recalling that possessing the reins and finding drakes were only one part of his problem, he put the reins in his inventory and took a stock of his belongings. Benediction stood out. Not only because it was a zhua—a long staff topped by a silver korbitanium claw—but the genesiswork hierka also had a barely discernible violet glow. A color that marked its quality as epic.

  A schema made from thick paper contained violet-tinged instructions on how to craft more zhua like Benediction. Not all of the listed materials had their origins or locations attached.

  Acquiring korbitanium and blood from void beasts appeared simple enough. Of greater concern was dragonwood, forsaken bones, and void beholder’s eyes. Dragonwood typically grew in the Dagoda Front and beyond. A place too high for his current level. He had no idea where to find the mobs that dropped the bones or the eyes.

  Additionally, the hierka could only be crafted in a Genesis Engine, which meant needing a hierkaneer. And most likely battling draconids.

  He smiled at the thought of such fights. Particularly at end-game when it meant venturing into the Dagoda Front and beyond to face some of the strongest creatures in Mikander. He sighed longingly at the loot to be found. Epic players do epic things, he thought, before shaking off the idea. It was a challenge for another time.

  But there was one thing he could do. “Activate Comm Orb.” He didn’t need to say the words. Thinking was enough, but saying it out loud felt natural.

  A list of In-Game Names popped into his head, each IGN with an @ before it. People he had partied with the last time he was in-game. All the IGNs were grayed out but for one. “Meritus Killgain. Voice message.” A ping announced its readiness.

  “What up, homie. It’s Frost. I can’t thank you enough for all your help. And you know I don’t like asking, but I need another favor. Play a mystic like you used to.

  “I got this epic weapon that scales with the owner, both by level and by usage. A zhua named Benediction. Its special allows it to channel void energy to cure the Gray Death. I also got the schema to craft more of them. We’ll need forsaken bones, void beholder’s eyes, void beast blood, dragonwood, and korbitanium. And of course, a Genesis Engine since it’s a hierka. It also needs three specific empowered spells to activate the cure.

  “The spells are Empowered Ameliorate, Empowered Suppression, and Empowered Rejuvenate. I know we can find the skill-effect shards in Imanok Sanctum, but keep an eye on the Auction Market in case they show up. Or for word from any merchants or scavengers about where else we might find them.”

  Frowning, Frost paused. “Come to think of it, there’s gotta be more weapons like this for every class. Look into that also. Until then, level up. I’ll send for you when I’m ready. Or if you hear anything, let me know.

  “Holla at ya boy. And… shaddup.” Smiling, Frost commanded the message to be sent by a mere thought.

  Absently stroking his aether ring, Frost imagined what it would be like to possess an aether cannon similar to Benediction. His mind ran through dozens of possible specialties it might have. Almost as important would be the leveling. With the weapon’s ability to grow in power, he might not need another.

  Goaded by the possibility, Frost set his focus on getting off the island. Reaching level eleven to gain an additional three points in stats seemed the smartest move. Might be a good idea to also do some calisthenics and shadow boxing to increase strength and agility. Maybe, a couple hours a day in the morning.

  Nodding to himself, he checked his ammo. He was all out of korbitanium shells. Sighing, he cradled Deadeye and went outside.

  He looked once more toward the murky lake that hid Imanok Sanctum. Melancholy sat heavy on his chest. He wished he could visit the Sanctum again. For no other reason than to see Pops, hear his voice, talk to him in the Void Gate room.

  Frost took a long slow breath, remembering Pops’ words about other Void Gate rooms. He longed to find the one in the Forsaken Crypts.

  “Won’t do that sitting around here,” Frost said aloud.

  Following Meritus’ directions, he trudged up the ledge, which soon became an old path of shale and dirt. A part of him was tempted to give the new Leap skill a try, but the howling wind buffeting him toward the edge said it would be the absolute worst idea. Battling the wind, he pulled on his hood and held it in place.

  He reached the crest over an hour later. The air had grown a bit cooler, foggy, and wet. A constant roar emanated in the distance. Lightning radiated in fitful spurts among pregnant clouds, but there was no accompanying crack or angry rumble of thunder.

  Cloak fluttering, he wiped his brow and took in his surroundings. He stood on a saddle, the land dipping into a gradual slope, flattening to a plain of hardy grass, shrubs, and stunted trees for several thousand feet, before rising again into wind-scarred cliff faces whose stony foreheads were crowned in gloom.

  To his left, frothy water gushed from a cliff covered in moss and algae and crashed down into a lagoon with roaring effervescence. The lagoon sprawled from the foamy collision like a turquoise sky. Several rivulets ran from the end of the lagoon near him, forming a stream that spilled downhill, meandering its way across the plain before disappearing where the land fell away to his right.

  His stomach clenched as his fear of deep water swelled when he looked toward the area into which the waterfall churned. Yet, there was a beauty to the violence, the foam and froth. The white. A counterpoint of peacefulness. The crescendo of the falls, enough to leave him mesmerized.

  A screech snapped his attention to the gemstone of a pool. A red and black drake, several times Frost’s size, was drinking from the water. When it had its fill, the drake lurched into the air.

  The drake glided like an exotic dancer in red and black, body undulating with each flap of leathery wings. It headed far left to one of many caves pockmarking the cliff face, well away from dozens of similar openings. Movement along the cliffs and at the caves resolved into scores of drakes. Above the waterfalls’ roar came the raucous dissonance of their screeches.

  With the discovery of the drakes complete, he set about his next task. Leveling. A quick perusal of the saddle revealed several forms of wildlife. He dismissed the korbitoises and their spiked shells, the sight of them immediately making him think of Dante who had called them Bowser’s babies. Smiling, he wondered what the big crimson-skinned, lion-faced gurash was doing.

  Probably off somewhere looking for some action. Frost could hear Dante’s high-pitched voice even now.

  The smile became a frown. Frost wondered what had become of Adesh Hamada and the goblin, Ryne. Adesh had completed his task as an NPC, but Ryne was still Frost’s bodyguard. Had Ryne gone off to do his own thing?

  Sidrie had claimed the game world was persistent. If left to their own devices, NPCs and mobs could make decisions for themselves. Decisions independent of programming. Zhi Yin’s talk about Crypt bosses hinted at the same thing.

  Frost shook his head, still finding the idea hard to believe. But if it was true, then the little black-robed shadowmancer was probably summoning defilers, boasting of his prowess, while rhyming as
if he were a traveling bard. Or looking to do bad things to gnomes.

  Chuckling, Frost decided to practice Leap now that he’d found a place to level. Only a fool went into battle without a sense of a new skill’s capabilities. Fools often ended up dead. At the risk of brain damage, dead was the last thing he wanted to be.

  Focusing on the idea of a regular hop, he jumped. He lifted about a foot off the ground, just as he’d envisioned. On the next try, he pictured something a bit higher and jumped some three feet straight up. There was an airy sense for all of a split second.

  Thinking back to workouts in real life and sims, or days when he practiced MMA, he imagined box jumps. He considered putting down Deadeye, but almost every moment in-game would be with the cannon. Whatever he did needed to be practical to Void Legion.

  In his mind, he saw the heavy foam plyometric box before him. Above chest high seemed a good place to start. He bent his knees and pushed off in one quick motion. He sprang up, nearly doubling the previous distance. The airy sensation was there in earnest this time.

  Frost landed with a thud and grinned. He was certain the last sensation was the activation of Leap.

  Over the next hour, he increased the Leap’s increments. He also practiced in different directions. Leaping back, to the side, or forward were all a rush, the movement swift. Eventually, he was Leaping twice his height, his feet moving as if he walked upon his descent. To the back and sides were much shorter in comparison to up or forward.

  With an idea in mind, he picked nearby solitary trees or rocks and fired off Aether Shots during Leap. His aim was abysmal. As in real life, shooting and hoping to hit a target while jumping was not practical. At least not with single target abilities. AOEs might work better, but the last thing he wanted was to draw any attention to his presence. He promised to work on it another time.

  Comfortable with his progress, he returned to the matter at hand. Leveling. Although they might be easier to deal with, killing korbitoises would be a waste. Not only did he lack an adequate means to skin them or remove their shells, but he despised the idea of skinning altogether. That left the other two types of mobs.

  The largest and most fearsome of the two were the lamias. They measured perhaps fifteen feet from head to serpentine bottom half. The four-armed upper body was humanoid, shapely, complete with a beautiful woman’s face and flowing hair in various colors. That portion stood six feet on average, but midway down, where the hips curved, the human form melded into a scaled body the tail of which ended in a spike.

  The other set of mobs were arkets. Taller than Frost by a foot on average, tanned and black-spotted, they reminded him of hyenas. If hyenas walked like men. Occasionally, an arket threw back its head and let out a boisterous chortle. Two fought each other near the stream, rolling on the ground while barking, clawing, and snapping.

  On the far side of the area, a lamia was fighting off a drake. The drake tried unsuccessfully to attack from the air. Its target proved too agile. When the drake landed and charged with its wings spread, the lamia was equal to the task, slithering faster than the drake could run. Eventually, the drake abandoned the chase.

  Another lamia, its head low to the ground, slithered through shrubs not far from a korbitoise. The korbitoise stood on its hind legs, neck stretched up. In a blur of movement, the lamia dashed to the korbitoise, wrapped its serpentine half around the creature, slammed its claws beneath the korbitoise’s chin, even as the end of the tail whipped around and stabbed the korbitoise in the jugular notch.

  Mouth agape, Frost could only stare as the tail expanded and contracted. The korbitoise grew sallow. Its skin sloughed. The lamia fed.

  Frost turned away from the sight. He picked the smallest arket, one a good distance away from the others, and headed toward it. He was almost in Staggering Shot range when he stepped on a twig. He froze. But it didn’t matter.

  The arket had eyes only for him. Frost aimed Deadeye.

  The arket chuckled. It disappeared.

  Grass, dirt, and debris swirled where the arket had been visible. A whirlwind taller than the average erada shot toward Frost.

  CHAPTER 5

  Frost made to jump away but was too slow. Howling, the Whirlwind struck his left side, flinging him back several steps, his cloak flailing around him. Pain shot through his body.

  Not waiting to discern the damage done by way of his weakness, Frost snagged a rejuvenation pot from his belt, popped the cork, and drank the bitter liquid. He grimaced even as the potion’s first tick refreshed him.

  “Just my luck that I picked a caster. One that can Conceal too.” He shook his head.

  Circling to his right, he kept Deadeye aimed. He let out a soft click. Echolocation responded, revealing a silhouette perhaps two hundred feet away, creeping in the opposite direction.

  “Got ya.”

  Frost fired off a Staggering Shot, the deep blue beam hurtling through the air with a whine. While the disorienting skill was zipping toward the silhouette, Frost squeezed the trigger again to release an Aether Shot. Deadeye coughed out a bullfrog whomp. A cyan bolt followed its darker cousin.

  A one-second charge saw him unleash Divergence, the five beams blasting from Deadeye just as the Staggering Shot hit the Concealed arket. Another second and Frost had fired Piercer, a red streak.

  Staggering Shot knocked the arket from Concealment. The beast wobbled where it stood. The single blue Aether Shot and one of the five from Divergence blasted into the creature in quick succession, the other four beams continuing through the air before dissipating.

  A moment later, Piercer’s streaking red ripped through the arket’s canine head. The beast crumpled. Deadeye’s Improved Cannon Kata kicked in upon the arket’s death, increasing Frost’s movement speed by fifty percent for the next six seconds.

  Elite arket slain.

  Gained 400 experience points.

  “Elite.” Frost nodded. “No wonder that bastard was so tough.” Killing these mobs weren’t an ideal situation, but the exp was worth it, even if the arkets might prove to be a pain in the ass with their casting and invisibility.

  Aether drifted into the air from the corpse. It swirled for a moment before thickening into a band and darting across the distance and into Frost. The energy from the Aether Absorption joined that within him, bringing him to three quarters capacity. Some of the aether diverted into his Overload reservoir.

  While Frost strode toward the remains, he focused on the air around him. He could feel the aether. A living energy that tugged at him, swirled and dived and danced like playful sylphs. Concentrating on the aether within and without, he formed a connection. Aether trickled into him by way of Replenishment.

  He bent and checked the dead arket for loot, hoping for something good. There was nothing.

  Remembering the red and black drake, an idea came to him. He grabbed the arket by its ankle and dragged it toward the blue-green gemstone of a lagoon. When he got up on the flat slate-colored rocks, Frost dropped the carcass. He lay Deadeye behind him and drew the Expedition Sword.

  Frost kicked the arket’s arm until the limb extended straight out from the creature’s body. Crouching over the carcass near the shoulder, he braced himself. “Just remember it’s a game. It’s just a game.” It was ironic how he could fight and kill in the heat of the moment, but to deliberately maim as he intended left a queasy feeling in his stomach.

  He committed the joint of the arm and shoulder to memory, inhaled the fresh air, closed his eyes, and swung. Chunk. He opened one eye. He’d managed a relatively deep cut but nothing more. Frost deflated.

  Blood welled out from the wound. Thick. Ruby. Viscous. Swallowing at the sight and pungent odor, Frost took aim, pretended he couldn’t see, and swung. Chop. He swung again. And again, ignoring the wet, sickening sounds. The arm parted from the body.

  He let ou
t a breath he hadn’t realized he held. After he wiped the sword on the arket’s fur, Frost slipped it into the scabbard, picked up Deadeye, and made his way back to the hill.

  Rather than hunt more arkets, he decided the lamias might be the easier target after all. Due to them being melee, he might not need to rely on Crowd Control abilities like Staggering Shot. If the lamias weren’t too fast, he could kite them.

  Before he began, he imagined the strategy. For kiting, he would start at max range from his target, pump out as many initial shots as possible, and then run away while firing off occasional attacks until the creature died. If the lamia got too close, he could always fall back on the Staggering Shot.

  For the most desperate situations, he had two more Crowd Control skills in reserve. The disorientation from Aether Bomb and stun of Concussion Blast.

  But they were both Area of Effect skills that involved explosions. Using either AOE wasn’t the best idea if he wanted to avoid drawing attention. But like Gilda often said, ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

  A part of him wished he was playing a sorcerer. Or had a few sorcerer skills like Glacial Eruption, which had two CC effects: stun and slow. And the skill was a noiseless one. The fights would’ve been so much easier.

  “Gotta work with what you got, dawg.”

  His Comm Orb dinged. Frost expected a message from Meritus. Instead, it was a notification. A powerful man’s voice bloomed in his head.

  WORLD FIRST KILL

  A group led by Kazuto Morow of the WaR guild defeated Bragash the Bender, a void revenant that had been terrorizing the people of Aesernia, a small town in the western Ignis nome of Sutrium. As a reward, the Coalition has bestowed the title of Sutrium Protector unto Kazuto and his group members, Meileen Elune, Saigo Thrall, Vash Quickdraw, and Aizen Shadowblade.

  The notification vanished. Frost smiled. He had to admit to being a little jealous of the achievement despite having the World First on Emperor KiGyaba. He wanted to be first for every kill.