The Forsaken Crypts

by Terry C. Simpson

Following his map, he made his way to the Auction Market, running ideas through his head on how to rescue Gilda. When he entered the Auction Market, he kept his head down, hood shielding his face, and proceeded to a sparsely populated corner.

  Danica appeared, the yurid’s feathers a shimmering blue-green, her wings folded against her body. She informed him of two sales. Luminance had sold for ten thousand IDC. The timer on Deadeye’s bids had expired with the highest at five thousand LDC. He accepted both sales. Danica took the AM’s five percent fee on each transaction.

  After taking the credits, he searched for quaker axes but found none. Disappointed, he scrolled through until he found his next target. A thought, and he’d purchased Strafe for three thousand LDC, smiling at the decrease in price due to several other sellers. He absorbed the shard.

  Skill Acquired

  Strafe:

  Cast time: Instant

  Recharge: 20 seconds

  Consumes: Aether

  Available shard slots: 2

  Effect: Dash up to 60 feet in any direction. Immune to movement impairment and stuns while active.

  Another search and he’d found the level eighteen skill, Aether Barrage. He purchased it for the outright sale of ten thousand credits, half IDC and half LDC.

  The level twenty skill was also there. Aether Fusillade. A demo of the ability was available to view.

  Selecting the demo, Frost watched as four red Piercers streaked from a cannon. The skill seemed lackluster until he saw the Piercers could be detonated just before impact for AOE damage. If they were detonated within a hundred feet of a Walker bot, which was a skill available later, the bot unleashed Ground Zero, firing an Aether Bomb at each detonation.

  Frost whistled. Both at the skill and its list price. Fifteen thousand credits.

  Dismissing the ability from his mind, Frost spent another five hundred LDC on korbitanium projectiles. He checked for armor or jewelry upgrades, but none were in an affordable price range. Settling for what he had, he sighed and turned to leave.

  He bumped into a blue-skinned gurash man in chain mail wide enough for two men. The Herald of WaR stood out on the gurash’s chest.

  “Watch where yer going,” the gurash drawled.

  An erada woman clung to the gurash’s arm. The gurash was stroking her horns, eliciting moans.

  “S-sorry, friend.” Frost bowed, glad the gurash was taller than him by at least a foot.

  Heartbeat quickening, he skirted the large man and his woman, hoping the gurash took it as a sign that Frost was properly intimidated. The gurash muttered something under his breath and swaggered past. The erada giggled. Head down, Frost shuffled outside.

  On his way home, he passed an apothecary who was closing shop. Remembering the dye, Frost hurried inside. The proprietor was a human with a humped back and an eye-patch who introduced himself as Igor.

  “What can I do you for, young man.” Igor hovered over the counter as Frost perused the wares through the glass.

  “How much for the crimson dye.” Frost pointed at the one in question. Almost every other dye had a price of fifty LDC.

  “Ah, that one’s special.” The man’s lips parted in a gap-toothed grin. “A relic from beyond the Front. A Vindicator killed a void dragon and harvested its blood. I made this from that blood.”

  “Sounds good. How much.”

  “Tree fiddy.” Igor was still smiling.

  “What?”

  “Tree fiddy.”

  “You gotta be kidding.”

  Expressionless, Igor stared at Frost.

  “No prob. I’ll take it.” Frost shrugged. It was his turn to smile. “But I don’t have the credits right now. I’ll gladly pay you on Tuesday—”

  “Get out!” Igor’s face looked as if he would burst a vein. He jabbed a stubby finger at the door.

  “Alright. Alright.” Frost chuckled. “Just give me the one that says plain red for fifty LDC.” He placed the credits on the counter.

  Chest heaving, Igor grumbled under his breath but retrieved the dye. He shoved the glass container to Frost and snatched up the credits. “Good. Night.”

  “Nice doing business with you.” Smiling, Frost picked up the dye, turned and strolled to the door, flipping his prize up and catching it again.

  On his way home along the dark streets, he practiced Strafe. He worked on controlling the distance and direction of the dash ability, often using it to speed to the corner of a building or to get from one shadow to the next.

  When he arrived at the house, the others had already returned. Dante had colored his hair black. Ryne had gotten himself a plain blue pants, shirt, and had shaved. His bald head and clean face made him look like a new goblin. Saba had settled on chestnut hair, both on her head and her body’s equine portion.

  Standing near the table was a dvergr dressed in hides. He was half a foot taller than Ryne and had the wizened face and snowy hair of a man who’d seen a lot in life. He watched Frost with wary eyes.

  “This is Raynor.” Meritus gestured to the white-haired rockform man who offered a slight bow. “He used to work the mines at Modra’s Keep. Says if Gilda’s in the dungeons he can get us in through the mines. I think we can sneak her out without anyone knowing.”

  “I like that idea.” Frost nodded, spirits higher than they had been when he left. He could see them rescuing Gilda. And maybe killing Setnana if he was lucky. He held up the red dye. “Lemme color my hair, then we can get to it.” He headed for the bathroom.

  ******

  Under a velvet sky sprinkled with glittering shards, they flew northwest for several hours. Frost wished Saba’s Aura of the Pack worked on mounts like some buffs. The twenty-five percent increased speed would have been a boon.

  Perusing his map, he noted the small towns, villages, forests, and farmlands, all of which gradually petered out, the terrain becoming savanna, and eventually rocky land with sparse vegetation. With the change, the air grew drier to match. And chilly, which surprised Frost.

  They landed at the eastern edge of the Kaigake Desert. With Raynor leading, they rode the rest of the way, crossing from shale to sandy dunes. Frost pulled his hood up against the night’s chill and to shield his face from sand when the wind swirled.

  Raynor slowed near several towering rock formations. Signaling caution, he led them up a path between the rocks, deep shadows enclosing them. They soon reached an opening.

  On the other side, the Kaigake Desert stretched for miles, lit by moonlight. Off to their left was a cliff line, highlighted by the backdrop of the moon and star-kissed night sky.

  Raynor pointed in the cliffs’ direction. A keep with two towers sprouted above the cliffs. Bloomglobes or glimmerstalks showed the location of guards and paths of patrols along the battlements.

  “Modra’s Keep.” He beckoned to them. “Follow me.”

  They made their way back the way they’d come before Raynor took them to another trail where soaring rock faces peered down from either side. He led the way as if he could see ahead despite the darkness enfolding them, their sole light that of the silver coin of a moon and her court of glinting shards. The scrabble of drake claws on rocks, the beat of kirin hooves, padded zephyr feet, and their breathing was loud in the night, louder in the narrow passage.

  An acrid scent hung on the chilly air. Frost couldn’t quite place it, but it was there, surrounding them, growing stronger by the moment.

  “Stinks here. Even the mounts agree.” Meritus stroked his zephyr’s downy head. “I got to kick the bolsters to make mine keep going.”

  “Same here.” Dante expertly controlled his kirin with one hand, while holding his long-hafted axe in the other.

  “I don’t blame them.” Saba cupped a hand over her nose and mouth. “It’s awful.”

  “Not this guy.” Fr
ost gestured to RnB, the drake’s head stretched forward. “He’s pushing hard all on his own.”

  Forms up ahead disturbed Frost’s Echolocation. “Someone’s up there.” He stopped and aimed The Stunner. “Two people.”

  “Those are my people,” Raynor said. “Everything is fine. We live within these rocks, in these tunnels… what was once the Kaigake Mountains before the first Void Cataclysm broke the world. Those two are guards.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were from here,” Meritus said. “Only that you worked here.”

  “You did not ask.” The dvergar shrugged. “You have nothing to fear. If I intended harm, my people could have come out at any time.” He gestured at the surrounding cliffs. “From anywhere.”

  The declaration sent a deeper chill through Frost. He kept The Stunner aimed as they forged ahead amid the unrelenting acrid stench. Not even the occasional gust of howling wind through the pass diminished the fetor.

  The forms of the two guards remained in position, shifting occasionally as if the guards were tired of standing in one spot. When the group drew close, the guards resolved into two spear-wielding dvergar men outside a cave mouth from which warmth spilled.

  “Who goes!” called the dvergar, stepping forward with their spears pointed at the newcomers.

  “It is me.”

  “Zerker Raynor!” Teeth showing in the dark, the taller of the two guards planted the butt of his spear into the ground before him.

  “Scout Paedar.” Raynor gestured to the man. “Run, summon the men. Send me whichever lookout was on duty at Modra. I will be with my guests at the middle staging area.”

  “Yes, Zerker Raynor.” Paedar bowed and ran off. The other guard took up his former position.

  “Leave the mounts and follow me.” Raynor leaped off his drake.

  Frost dismounted. He spent a few moments stroking RnB’s snout.

  The drake gurgled at his touch but stared toward the cave. RnB whined and took a step forward, but Frost stopped him.

  “I’ll call for you if I need you. Go!” Frost pointed to the sky as he’d practiced the night at Dante’s barn.

  The drake gurgled again, its golden-eyed gaze focused on the cave. After a final whine, RnB took to the air, his shadowy form blotting out stars. He circled once before flying off.

  Frost followed Raynor and the others into the cavern. The heat and acrid stench increased, the latter becoming near oppressive. Footsteps echoing with each stride, they rounded a corner. Crackling flames in clay braziers lit an intersection up ahead. Tunnels split off in three directions.

  Frost flicked at his nose and sniffed at the stench, which had grown even stronger. As they passed one of the clay braziers, he took a look inside. The flames crackled and licked from wood. Though there was no smoke, the burning wood was the stench’s origin.

  “What’s this?” Frost pointed at the wood.

  “Dragonwood,” Raynor said. “We grow it in hidden glades. Our ancestors claim its scent is that of a void dragon. Though no dragon has been seen this side of the Dagoda Front since the last Void Cataclysm.”

  Frost made to argue the point but thought better of it. Mentioning Imanok made no difference to the current situation.

  “The smell of burning dragonwood keeps away the corrupted,” Raynor continued. “They suddenly began appearing the last two weeks, often slinking into the caves.”

  Frost tensed at the mention of corrupted, recalling Krator and its minions. He stretched his Echolocation as the group marched through the tunnels, the way lit by torches along the walls. Not once did they encounter any other dvergar.

  Bothered by the absence of the natives, Frost had the niggling sense of being followed. Focusing on his Echolocation, particularly on the tunnel behind them, he strained to find a presence. A form. Anything. For a split second he thought he sensed something, but then it was gone. Furrowing his brows, he continued to scan.

  A while later, light framed the opening of the tunnel ahead. They had almost gotten to it when Frost became aware of the forms within. At least two dozen of them.

  “A bunch of dvergar coming up,” Frost mentioned as a way to warn his group.

  “My people,” Raynor said.

  They strode into a cavern the size of a large field, illuminated by braziers and torches. Perhaps thirty dvergar waited inside, each one armed and armored for war. A hush fell across the room.

  Raynor motioned for the group to stop. He strode forward. “I promised to find someone who could help us get rid of the ones who have recently brought the Gray Death with them. The ones living inside Modra’s Keep.”

  “What about helping with our corrupted?” someone yelled.

  “They have the means to do that as well,” Raynor declared.

  “What?” Frost’s brows climbed his forehead. He leaned in behind Raynor. “That’s not true.”

  Raynor tilted his head. “But it is. I worked for Nakada Masami. I know of your negotiations. But more than that, I’m a cutthroat of considerable skill.

  “I have been in the dungeon of Modra’s Keep and witnessed Nomarch Setnana Botros torture the young lady for information about you, Drelan Frost of the Blue Sky Network. She raged about you people killing her son, and about an epic zhua. A zhua like the one in your inventory.”

  A chill ran down Frost’s spine. Behind him, his friends gasped.

  CHAPTER 20

  “Don’t do anything, guys.” Heart thumping, Frost resisted the urge to bring The Stunner to bear, but he took a step back to give himself a chance if he was left with no other choice. “Unless I’m reading this wrong, it’s like he said. If he had bad intentions, he coulda gotten us outside.”

  “I heard your friend say you were a smart man.” Raynor faced them, a smile creasing his wizened features. “I see he was right.”

  “He could still be leading us to a trap,” Saba argued in group chat.

  “Like you said,” Frost answered under his breath, “we knew it might be a trap even before coming. It is what it is at this point. We do what we gotta do.”

  Frost focused on the little dvergr and spoke aloud. “What now?”

  “Now, you agree to heal our corrupted, if we help you get the girl.”

  “The girl first.” Frost met the dvergr’s silver-eyed gaze. A quest revealed itself: Save The Kaigake Dvergar part of The Cure line.

  Raynor’s eyes narrowed. “What is there to stop you from flying off when you have her?”

  Frost shrugged. “Trust. The same trust we put in you to bring us here before you sprang this on us.”

  “That is not good enough.”

  “We’re gonna heal your corrupted after we rescue the girl. You have my word.”

  Behind Frost, the others voiced protests.

  “Your word?” Grimacing, Raynor shook his head. “Your word is not enough. I need reassurances and a time. Most people corrupted by the Gray Death do not live for more than four days.”

  Frost scowled at the insult. “My word’s worth a lot to me. If it ain’t good enough for you, then we can fight it out right here, right now.” He tensed, ready to open fire. “You might win, but your loved ones won’t get the help they desperately need, and we’ll take as many of you with us as we can.”

  Raynor studied Frost’s face, the corner of his mouth upturned. He was most certainly gauging his people’s chances. Unflinching, Frost returned the stare, his eyes dead. Whatever Raynor saw made the dvergr’s shoulders droop. The dvergr sighed.

  “Fine. But if you cross me, I will hunt you down.” Raynor’s silver-eyed gaze was cold and hard and swept across them individually. “Every. Single. One of you.”

  Dante chortled. “That’s funny. Seeing that you crossed us first.”

  Ryne stepped up beside Frost, his haladie in hand. “I relish t
he threat. But it is one you would regret.”

  As Raynor opened his mouth to answer, Frost placed a restraining hand on Dante’s shoulder and replied, “We can settle this later. Let’s get to rescuing Gilda and your people, Raynor.”

  “Fine.” Raynor glared at Ryne and Dante.

  “You said you snuck into the dungeon where they’re holding Gilda.” Frost released Dante’s shoulder as the gurash relaxed. “How many guards are there? Can we take them?”

  “Six.” Raynor held up his fingers to match. “They are not much of a threat. The reinforcements will be of greater concern.”

  “Alright.” Frost nodded once. “I need a few minutes with my friends.”

  Raynor bowed. He turned on his heels and strode toward the dvergar warriors.

  “Are you mad?” Saba hissed when Raynor was out of earshot. “As if the risk wasn’t big enough, you go ahead and make a promise you can’t keep?”

  “Shhh.” Frost shook his head. “I’m gonna keep my word.”

  “How?” Saba pawed at the ground.

  “I’m gonna come back with Meritus when we get the spells we need. I said we’d heal them after we got Gilda. After can mean any time.”

  “Pulling a technicality.” Saba gave a slow disapproving shake of her head. “You must like having enemies. I don’t.”

  “I’m with Frost,” Meritus said. “Raynor used us first. Put us in a bad situation without asking. Turnabout is fair play.”

  “We should just lay into them now.” Dante hefted his axe.

  “Nah.” Frost shook his head. “I doubt we’d survive that. We do what we came to do.”

  “Alright, bro.” Dante let out a reluctant breath.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Saba asked.

  “We get in, get Gilda, and get out as fast as possible. We got our maps, so the way back’s not a prob.” Frost stroked his aether ring. “When we first get in, Saba, your job is to Conceal and scout ahead. Use group chat if you need to warn us. On the way out, we’re gonna collapse the tunnels behind us.

  “Dante, at that point, you pick up anyone that comes at us from the front. Meritus, you’re gonna call out your Servitors. Coupled with Ryne’s Mirage, Mimics, and his summonses, that should keep them distracted while we escape.