Dante Soul Screamed, the sound echoing. Meritus’ Bulwark repeated the ability. Frost and Saba forgotten, the ten basilisks attacked the two tanks in earnest. A deeper yell was Dante unleashing Enfeebling Bellow, weakening the basilisks.
“Now.” Frost squeezed his trigger, letting off another Concussion Blast. He followed with Aether Bomb and the five Aether Shot spread of Divergence.
Saba unleashed a Quadruple Barrage, four arrows streaking to different targets. Then she settled into a rhythm with single and double shots, her bowstring thrumming faster than before. The Duelist Servitor was firing single target fire globes one after the other. Blue motes of Mikander’s Tears flew from both the Shaman and Meritus.
All around Dante, the basilisks died. Swirls and motes of aether shot off in multiple directions before flying into Frost and friends.
“That was epic!” Dante pumped his fist. “Let’s do it again!”
“Guess it wasn’t that reckless after all, huh, Saba?” Frost smiled in her direction.
She rolled her eyes. “We’re just lucky this game doesn’t have friendly fire.”
Frost chuckled. One day he was going to get Saba to give him some credit.
“I think Dan could handle five or ten more,” Ryne said.
Meritus’ head snapped around. “Dan?”
Saba stared at the goblin also, looking as shocked as Meritus.
Frost laughed. “Yeah… Dan. That’s a story those two gotta tell. They’re buddies now.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.” Meritus shook his head, mirth in his voice.
“That pull was worth ten thousand five hundred exp for me.” Frost broke into a wide grin. “Beautiful. How much did y’all gain?”
“Eleven five.” Meritus nodded in approval.
“Twelve five.” Saba pranced. “Would be better for those of us who’re higher level if the mobs were higher also, but I can’t complain too much.”
“Hey, Dan,” Frost yelled, smiling at his use of the nickname. “Ryne says you can handle five or ten more mobs.”
“Piece o’ cake!” Dante shouted. “More action, boss! More DPS. Moooaaarrrr!”
Frost chuckled. “No prob. We’re gonna do a few more pulls, then give the dvergar a chance to skin.”
“Bring it on.” Dante swung his axe in a chopping motion.
Contemplating the possible needs for a larger pull, Frost eyed Meritus. “Aether Absorption after the kills won’t be enough, so hit us with Aether Infusion on the next two pulls. That should see us through.”
Meritus nodded. “I got you.”
“If you manage this, I’ll go take a nap,” Ryne grumbled.
“Find you a good spot,” Frost chided, “and watch us work.”
“And you call me cocky, Meritus.” Ryne shook his head.
A ghost of a smile curved Frost’s lips. “Alright, Saba, we’re gonna keep pulling until we have fifteen. Meritus, hold off on the Bulwark’s Soul Scream to get any stragglers.”
Frost counted down again. They started the pull the same way as the first time. Frost added extra Korbitanium Projectiles to snag a few more basilisks. As he fired, he reveled in the feel of the aether cannon, the ease with which he could wield it. It was as if the weapon were an extension of his body.
They waited a bit for Dante and the Bulwark to gather all the mobs together. In that time, Meritus cast Aether Infusion, which pulled from his aether pool and the air itself to add to Frost and Gilda’s aether. The two DPS unleashed their skills. A minute later, the fifteen had died, Aether Absorption delivering much needed aether into the players. They repeated the process several times.
Soon enough, their regular aether pool was almost empty. But Frost had an idea. Aether Overload was still full. “One more pull.” Frost raised his voice. “Dante, this time we’re gonna pull twenty.”
The red-skinned gurash pumped his fist. “Awesome, bro. This’ll be crazy fun.”
Frost nodded to Saba. “Use your Overload skill on this one.”
The centaur’s eyes lit up. “Sure thing.”
They pulled the basilisks. When Dante and the Bulwark had the twenty beasts in place, Frost activated Stand and Deliver. He glowed blue. The Stunner let out a hammer drill and buzzsaw whine. Aether Shots and Korbitanium Projectiles spat out. Alternating. Slow at first. Whine. Whomp. Whine. Whomp. Frost’s arms jerked with the recoils.
The cyclic rate picked up. Built. It became a rhythm, faster and faster until it was a solid whine. The rate eliminated the recharge on Aether Bomb and Divergence.
The air lit up as Frost unleashed hell. Beside him, Saba was a blur, her Arrow Battery firing at an uncanny rate.
Smoke and explosions hid Dante and the Bulwark. Frost and Gilda stopped firing. When the air cleared, basilisk corpses littered the ground.
“Damn, my dude,” Meritus whispered in awe. “I just did like twenty percent of a level since we started. That level fifteen prediction I gave you might be too low.”
“Epic players do epic things.” Frost shrugged. Checking his exp, he noted he was two-thirds of the way to level thirteen. He raised his voice. “Dante, take a break and let the dvergar work.”
“I think we need more dvergar.” Meritus’ gaze tracked the two diminutive rockform beings who ambled out to the carcasses.
“Facts.” Frost nodded.
“Be right back.” Meritus dismissed his Servitors. They slowly melted from the air. The mystic jogged off toward his zephyr.
“That was wicked,” Dante exclaimed when he reached Frost and Saba. Frowning, he glanced around. “Where’s my lil bro?”
With a shake of his head at Dante’s reference to Ryne, Frost pointed toward the goblin who was in a fetal position, hidden by the long grass beneath a nearby tree. “Over there sleeping. Said to wake him if we need him.”
Dante chuckled. “Typical. He needs his beauty sleep.”
“With his face, he could use tons of it,” Saba said.
“I heard that.” Ryne held up his middle finger.
Frost’s brows shot up, and he snapped his gaze around to Dante. “Did you teach him that?”
The red-skinned, lion-faced gurash put on a sheepish look. “Guess I’m rubbing off on him.”
Meritus returned moments later with six dvergar. They joined the other two, skinning carcasses, and piling the remains to one side. The smell of blood and offal filled the air.
“That’s some nasty shit.” Frost grimaced.
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” Saba looked as if she would be sick.
“Wussies.” Dante waved them off. “Guess none of you ever went hunting.”
“Whatever, homie.” Frost gestured to the rolling green and tan plains leading to a tree line at the feet of the Jurojin Mountains. It was rife with basilisks. “That looks like the perfect spot over there. Lots of mobs to grind.”
They left the rust-colored dirt and hardy vegetation behind and proceeded to the plains. Frost’s legs swished through grass dancing to the cool wind’s sigh. He picked out a spot from which they could readily pull the basilisks.
Once the group had set up, Dante got into position. Meritus summoned his Servitors, sending the Bulwark out to stand with Dante. The Duelist and Shaman remained. As before, Frost and Saba started the attacks.
Midway through the third group of fifteen, Meritus cast a new spell onto Dante. Korbash’s Retribution. A ring tinged with gold and blue emanated from the ground around the gurash, stretching out dozens of feet in every direction. The ability drained health from the mobs, converting the health into aether, which shot off into the air much like Aether Absorption, before settling around the players in an aura.
“Level thirteen,” Frost declared when the last basilisk died. He took note of his new stats, pleased with the extra two points in
aether from his skill use.
Strength: 30
Agility: 36
Vitality: 42
Aether: 43
“Another two pulls for me to level,” Meritus said.
“Same here.” Saba stuck several arrows into the soft ground.
“What are y’all waiting for?” Dante shouted. “Let’s kill shit.”
Frost chuckled. “You heard the man.”
They did another two pulls before they were completely drained of aether and needed to rest and replenish. Despite the three-minute recharge on their Overload skills, they’d been unable to use them due to the time needed to build Overload itself.
Meditating for Replenishment, Frost found his mind straying to Gilda. He banished the thoughts before they festered.
They returned to leveling and collecting hides minutes later. Whenever they could, they took advantage of their Overload skills, pulling an extra five to ten basilisks. The one disappointment about the grind was the lack of drops.
On several occasions they had to wait for respawns. And though the basilisks had adapted, sometimes attempting to flee, their need to defend themselves when attacked won out more often than not. The group continued to grind for several hours more.
Frost reached level fourteen and fifteen way faster than he expected. However, the fact he still had forty-five levels to go before max diminished his sense of accomplishment and leveling speed. In all fairness, he was still a noob. His level fifteen stats did bring on a smile.
Strength: 36
Agility: 42
Vitality: 50
Aether: 53
The agility brought his stagger resist to four percent, which was still paltry. He looked forward to the day when it would be extremely hard to stagger or stun him.
His friends also chatted about their levels. While Meritus had almost reached eighteen, both Dante and Saba had gotten to nineteen.
In anticipation of leveling, Dante and Saba had brought new skills with them. Saba’s was Aura of the Pack, a buff that increased the group’s movement speed by twenty-five percent. Dante had acquired Scythe, a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree attack that also added a bleed effect, draining the target’s HP over time.
“You got Strafe, right?” Meritus regarded Frost with an arched brow.
Frost shook his head. “Nah. Couldn’t afford it after I got the map, warehouse, and new cannon. Wish I knew where to farm for it.”
“No biggie.” Meritus shrugged. “You’ll make enough off the quest rewards back in town. Buy it off the Market, then.”
“Alright.” Frost took a stock of all the hides and dead basilisks. The dvergar had brought over a wagon and were loading up the hides. Frost screwed up his face at the fetid stench of blood permeating the air. “We got enough hides for sure, but what’re we gonna do with all this meat? Seems a waste.”
“Could call in our mounts to feed them,” Meritus suggested. “Or cook some and save it. But cooked food like meat spoils after two days in your inventory.”
“Oh, shit.” Frost checked his inventory and saw the old cervin meat was going bad. Nose wrinkled, he pulled it out, and tossed it. “Disgusting. Thanks, homie. I hadn’t even looked into the inventory stuff or much of any tutorials I saw in IM. Even skipped the one for the Market.”
Meritus’ gave Frost a shocked stare. “You skipped the Auction Market tutorial? Bruh, come onnn, there’s some good tips in there.”
Frost chuckled. “Why do it when I can come to a pro like you with questions?”
“Facts.” Meritus nodded slightly and stroked his chin, clearly pleased.
The drum of onrushing hooves drew Frost’s attention. Frowning, he turned to the sound. A human on a lupine was galloping toward them from the direction of the mines. Frost brought The Stunner up.
Meritus placed a hand on Frost’s arm. “That’s Vallen.”
Chest heaving, Vallen pulled up in front of them. A ragged tear ran down his gambeson, all the way through to his flesh beneath, exposing a bloody wound.
Wincing, he drew in great gulps of air. “Sir! It’s Krator the Klaw. He’s at the mine and has some men with him. They’re killing the dvergar. The men are fighting them off around the caravan, but I don’t know how long they can hold. No one’s been a match for Krator.”
Now the man had mentioned it, Frost heard the screams. The distinctive ring of steel on steel.
CHAPTER 17
“Saba, wake Ryne up. Add him to the group, Meritus.” Frost blew his whistle, and RnB screeched in response, appearing above a nearby hill.
The centaur dashed toward the tree Ryne had chosen for his bed. She was a blur, a sure sign that she’d engaged Streak. A moment later, a notification said Ryne was now a part of their group.
In minutes, Frost was atop RnB and had taken to the skies. Meritus’ white zephyr and Ryne’s drake rose to meet him. Dante joined them moments later on his yellow-maned kirin. Saba galloped below them, hooves kicking up dust. They pushed hard for the Jurojin, goaded by the cacophony of the nearby battle.
With the dying sun at their backs, long shadows falling across the ground, they arrived at the mine. A path led down into a clearing and the tunnel cut into the cliff face. There, a battle played out.
Gurashi, humans, and eradae fought each other, either in front of the mine itself or not far from the caravan of wagons. Spells and cannon fire echoed. Steel clashed. Combatants cried out or bellowed, voices carrying on the wind.
A roar cut through the tumult. Frost’s head snapped toward the sound. The battle paused, the combatants’ attention riveted on the mine. Something massive dashed from the mine’s dark mouth and into a sliver of sunlight.
Krator the Klaw was fourteen feet of humanoid sinew and muscle, wide as a shed, with a face like a lizard. If Ryne stood before Krator, the goblin might reach its knee. A bushy mane ran from the crown of Krator’s head down its back. Its skin was a dull gray. Vibrant red and blue lines crisscrossed the GUM’s chest and upper body like a nebulous road map. Its pants were nothing more than torn leather. Silver greaves enclosed Krator’s shins. Covering one hand was a silver dementer’s hierka. A fist. The other arm was a massive crab’s claw.
Frost directed RnB down to the wagons. The other group members joined him.
“I expected a GUM. But for it to also be a draconid overseer.” Frost shook his head, trying to wrap his head around Krator’s appearance.
Krator picked up a dvergr woman and tossed her at one of the human guards. That broke the trance. The fighting resumed.
Three guards charged the Klaw. The GUM slammed his fist into the ground, sending out a rolling semi-circular wave of earth and stone. The guards dashed away.
Saba pointed. “Those so-called bandits aren’t exactly normal either.”
The men and women fighting Meritus’ guards were eradae, human, and gurashi. That much could be seen from their general appearances. But none of them had normal skin. The exposed portions of their bodies were rife with gray blotches and sores.
“They’re infected with the Gray Death,” Meritus said softly.
“We call them the corrupted,” Ryne added. “They have been appearing since the last voidstorm. It’s a surprise to find so many of them here with no warning from the Coalition.”
“We can figure out the reason later,” Frost said. “Right now, we gotta save the caravan. Dante, Meritus, and Saba, y’all take the Klaw while Ryne and I pick off the adds.”
“Adds?” Ryne screwed up his face in Frost’s direction.
“Additional monsters or minions of a boss.” Frost nodded to the bandits.
“Oh.” Ryne whipped out his haladie. “But no. Krator is mine. Just give me Meritus and his Servitors. The rest of you can deal with the… adds… and save the caravan.”
Frost
opened his mouth to argue the point but changed his mind, recalling Vallen’s words. “You heard the man. Let’s go.”
Even as Frost kicked the bolsters to send RnB forward, two Summoned Defilers materialized beside Ryne, towering over the goblin. The wraith-like creatures wore hooded black robes. Clawed hands jutted from the sleeves.
Leaving Ryne to his task, Frost took aim at the nearest corrupted, a staff-wielding human woman, pus oozing from the blotches on her face. He fired an Aether Shot, a Korbitanium Projectile burst, and a single Homer in quick succession. He followed those a second later with Piercer. The first three attacks exploded into the corrupted’s torso, knocking her back. Frost allowed himself a triumphant smile.
The corrupted cried out in pain. Pain that lasted but a moment. Body smoking and blackened from Frost’s abilities, she snarled in his direction and brought the staff up. The staff head glowed white. She stretched out one hand toward Frost, fingers forming a claw.
Threads of arcing energy leaped from her hand like lightning cast sideways. It crackled toward Frost, illuminating the air. She slammed her staff into the ground.
Frost felt more than he saw the lightning strike descending. He yanked RnB’s reins.
Arc Lightning and the Thunderbolt struck a split-second apart. The detonation knocked Frost from RnB’s back. He slammed into the ground, ears ringing.
Wincing, Frost clambered to his feet, shaking his head to clear the noise. The corrupted was mid-cast, her staff head glowing, an electrical globe forming in the palm of her hand.
Frost took quick aim and snapped off a Staggering Shot. The ability struck and stunned her. He charged Homer for four seconds, two short of the stun duration, and released the trigger.
The moment the eight missiles flew into the air, Frost squeezed the trigger again. A second was all it took to charge the five-shot spread of Divergence and loose its cyan beams after the missiles. He finished with an Aether Shot, Korbitanium Projectile combo.
The corrupted woman died in a hail of explosions.
The Forsaken Crypts Page 17