The Forsaken Crypts

by Terry C. Simpson

  “The day before yesterday.”

  The revelation meant Gilda had two days left if she proved to be like most other corrupted. Frost stepped closer to her and took her hand. She stiffened at first but then relaxed.

  He moved to where he could stare down into her face. “We’re gonna cure you. Whatever it takes. I made a promise. Remember?”

  She smiled solemnly. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  “Please do.” He gave her hand a squeeze that she returned.

  “I also want you to promise me something else.” Gilda stared up into his eyes.

  He met her gaze. Something resided in her green eyes. Something alien. Something dark. It slithered behind them like a living thing. Frost fought down a shiver.

  “Promise you won’t treat me like porcelain. No matter what happens.” Gilda’s eyes appeared normal once more. “I’m not easily broken. Act as you normally would.”

  Frost bit his bottom lip. Making such a promise was difficult, but since she asked, he could do little else but give in. He let out a breath. “I promise to be as normal as I can to you.”

  “I guess that’s the best I can hope for.” She smiled ruefully and gave his hand a playful tap.

  Frost assumed it was her attempt at being normal. He understood how she felt, even if he didn’t agree. “Let me grab a bite to eat. When Meritus gets back, we’re gonna farm the two spells, level up, and head to the Crypts for the rest.”

  “No doubt.” Gilda nodded once.

  “Want me to bring you a plate?” He looked at her, his expression hopeful.

  She shook her head. “No, I ate already.”

  “Alright.” He allowed his fingers to linger as he released his grip.

  Frost gave her a little smile, turned, took a breath, and strode over to the dead campfire where a pot contained several bits of meat. There was also a bowl of potatoes.

  “What up, people.” He nodded in the direction of the others.

  Busy with their meals, they acknowledged him with nods or grumbles. He picked up a metal plate, heaped some food on it, returned to his spot near Gilda, took a seat, and ate. The food was still warm and had a sweet flavor.

  “Frost, you ever seen a cow IRL?” Gilda was staring off at the sky.

  He frowned at the odd question. “A cow? Like living, breathing cattle?” She nodded. “Nah, only in pictures. What made you ask that?” He chewed a bit of meat and swallowed.

  “A game I was playing named Diablo. There was a boss, the Cow King. It was the funniest looking think ever. Looked just like a cow, hooves and all, but it stood like a human and wielded a great axe.”

  “Oh.” He smiled. “That explains the nonsense you were mumbling on the way here then.”

  “Huh?” She faced him.

  “You were talking about it during the flight. The Cow King… something about levels. Going mooooo.” He chuckled. “I figured you musta been dreaming.”

  She covered her mouth to suppress a giggle. “I’m sorry. I must’ve sounded crazy.”

  “It’s all good.” Frost waved her off and continued to eat.

  Meritus returned not long after. He passed Frost a few dozen empty flasks. “I also got you this from the Market.” He was holding a skill shard and a Bless.

  Frost groaned. “You didn’t have to, homie.”

  “I know.” Meritus reached his palm out.

  Frost sighed. “You aren’t gonna take no for an answer, are you?”

  Meritus’ reply was a smirk.

  “By the time you’re done, I’m gonna owe you my life. Thank you.” Frost took the shard.

  Aether Fusillade

  Available at Level 20

  Frost opened and closed his mouth. He recalled the list price for the skill. “I’m gonna pay you back, I swear.”

  “For that one? Oh, I know you are, homie.” Meritus chuckled. “That bad boy put a dent in my credits. But it was worth it to stay ahead of the game. Just hurry up and get to twenty already.”

  “Deal.” Frost gave him a pound. He Blessed the shard.

  Meritus continued, “I also found a spot with the mobs we need to hunt. Scorpids and molewurms.”

  “Any idea of their levels?” Frost put the Blessed skill shard and the flasks in his inventory and bit off a chunk of the sweet, tough meat.

  “Around twenty if I had to guess. My Bulwark tanked one of each while the Duelist and I killed them. It wasn’t too hard. As a group, we’ll mop the floor with ‘em.”

  “Sounds good.” Frost finished his meal and washed it down with water from his canteen. “Let’s do this.”

  They climbed atop their mounts. Even Gilda, for whom Meritus had bought a black drake. Soon, they were flying over the copse toward the line of hills dotted with hardy vegetation. Beyond the hills was the aptly named Sands of Salanda, a sea of ochre dunes.

  Meritus veered left. He took them to a hollow between the end of the hills and the first set of dunes. They landed on a slope amid scraggly brush.

  He pointed down below. “The scorpids.”

  The creatures were similar to the ones Frost had seen near Lothal’s east coast except these were the color of stone. They scuttled on eight legs, chitin-covered bodies either shifting sideways or back and forth. Some fought each other, using their one small and one over-sized claw to fend the opponent off while seeking to strike a blow with their barbed tails.

  As with other creatures on Marang, the musculature was lacking. They weren’t as defined. Frost knew they weren’t elite.

  “The molewurms are over there.” Meritus pointed to the far left at a collection of broken pillars and ruins made from sandstone bricks.

  The molewurms had serpentine heads, long bodies closely segmented like earthworms, scaled skin, and two arms on their upper bodies. They had no other appendages and slithered along or sometimes used their arms to propel themselves forward for extra speed.

  Frost studied the creatures. “Gilda, what level are you?”

  “Nineteen.”

  Frost’s brows shot up. “Damn. That means you were nineteen even before I left Maelpith.”

  She shrugged. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

  “Hmmm, nineteen.” Frost stroked his aether ring while working out a strategy. “What other AOEs did you get besides Glacial Eruption?”

  “Flame Vortex, Aether Pulse, and Flash Freeze. I especially like the Freeze. Not only does damage but it freezes anything it touches. I also picked up Elemental Snap, which increases my elemental damage by ten percent.”

  “Sweet.” Frost smiled. “I hope you got that Elemental Ignition ready for when you level up. Debuffing enemies so they take twenty percent more elemental damage is amazing.”

  “No doubt.” Gilda nodded. “I can’t wait.”

  “Bet you can’t.” Frost grinned, glad to see her in better spirits. “Alright, here’s the plan. Since we need exp—”

  “Not this again.” Ryne stomped his boot.

  “Wanna let me finish?” Frost arched his brow.

  “Fine. Take your time. But I know what’s in line.”

  “As I was saying. Since we need exp, we’ll split the group.”

  “Keeping me out of it,” Ryne blurted. “I hate this shit.” His green face darkened.

  Frost let out a sigh. “Ryne, the molewurms are yours.”

  “What?” Wide-eyed, the bald-headed goblin stared at Frost.

  “Although you won’t be part of our group, you still get to kill the molewurms for the shard they hold, while we farm the scorpids.”

  “I could hug you. You tall purple thing you.” Ryne did a little hop step.

  “Just don’t rub his horns.” Dante chuckled.

  “Hug me later.” Frost smiled at the goblin’s enth
usiasm and Dante’s quip. He eyed the others. “The scorpids are packed closer together and come in groups from what I see. Means we can use the same strat we had for the basilisks. With Gilda’s AOEs, this should go pretty quickly.

  “And since we gotta do this as fast as possible, I assume everyone has vials?” They nodded. “Good. Pop ‘em when we engage.”

  Without further ado, Frost picked out the vials he would use, taking them from his inventory, and placing them in the pouches on his belt. Each was on a three-minute reuse timer.

  Aether Power:

  25 to Aether effects

  Protection:

  500 armor

  Agility:

  10 Agility

  Colossus:

  10 Strength

  Elements:

  25 to Elemental Power

  Elemental Resistance:

  25 resistance to all elements

  Fortification:

  50 Health

  While Ryne flew off toward the ruins with the molewurms, Frost, Gilda, Dante, Saba, and Meritus dismounted and scrambled down the slope to the sands. Any sign of coolness had long since vanished, burned off by the blazing coin of a sun. With sweat beading his brow, Frost drank his vials. The others followed his lead.

  Scepter hanging at his belt, Meritus summoned his three Servitors. The gargant and two yurids appeared. He also prepped Mikander’s Tears and Blood. The five blue motes of Tears suspended over his left fingertips, the red of Blood over his right.

  “Dante, set up by those rocks between us and the mobs.” Frost pointed to the area in question. “Meritus, send your Bulwark with him.” He turned to Gilda to explain. “Saba and I are gonna pull a bunch of mobs; Dante and the Bulwark are gonna pull aggro off us and tank ‘em there. Once they have good threat, we AOE the mobs down. Use Glacial Eruption as a slow also. And Flash Freeze. Rinse, wash, and repeat.”

  “Got it.” Gilda plucked her silver chakrams from her belt loop. She infused them with aether, causing one to glow blue, and the other red.

  “Move into range of the tanks whenever you’re ready, Gilda. We’ll take our spots based off your position.” Frost double-checked his ammo while waiting for Gilda.

  She strode forward about twenty feet. He, Saba, and Meritus followed.

  “Saba, drop traps in front the tanks to help with CC. And keep putting ‘em down between pulls.”

  “Gotcha.” Saba buffed the group with Aura of the Pack, the ability making Frost feel as if he could run like the wind. She trotted off to where the tanks had set up.

  “I missed this.” A smile brightened Gilda’s discolored face. She made a motion with her hand as if ushering someone to stand. An Ice Stalagmite grew from the ground ahead of the tanks.

  Saba returned to them. “All set.”

  “I got the left.” Frost aimed The Stunner at a group of scorpids. “Ready?” When Saba nodded, Frost caressed the cannon’s trigger. “Go.”

  He fired off a Concussion Blast and then Divergence into the scorpid group. Explosions rocked the scorpids, the sound reverberating in the still air. The creatures let out hissing sounds and charged toward them. Saba’s arrows struck mobs to the right with the same effect. Frost picked out a few extras and hit them with Aether Shots.

  “Hold off.” Frost stopped firing. “Wait for the tanks to pick ‘em up.”

  Perhaps fifteen scorpids charged them, tails swiping back and forth ominously. Their claws clacked open and closed. In his head, Frost counted down the distance.

  At least ten of the creatures leaped high into the air. They abruptly changed direction and hurtled toward the ground, claws first. Frost winced, expecting them to slam into the sand, but the scorpids dived into the sand, leaving holes in their wakes.

  “They didn’t do that before,” Meritus exclaimed.

  Brow furrowed, Frost tried to rely on Echolocation, but it only isolated that which he could already see. Then he noticed the anomaly. “The sand,” he shouted. “Watch for the slight moving humps in the sand. Soul Scream when they get close.”

  Subtle rises zipped across the sand toward the group.

  Dante twirled his axe. His skin blushed to bright scarlet. He Sentinel Shouted, the sound high-pitched. He followed the skill with the deeper bellow of Soul Scream when the humps were within fifteen feet. The sounds clashed, echoing.

  Immediately, the scorpids crashed up through the sand. Their claws snapped and thrust. Dante parried some blows while absorbing others. Axe held out, he spun in circle, aether flowing from the axe’s edge in Cyclonic Strike. The moment he stopped, a wider swath of aether appeared, bright white against the ochre sand. The new skill, Scythe.

  Hissing, the scorpids became a frenetic mass. Frost delayed the order for a full attack. The first scorpids had lagged behind. Not caught by the taunt of Dante’s Soul Scream, they were still aggroed on Frost and Saba.

  They hit Saba’s Traps. Lightning arced, sizzling across the ground. Chains appeared from the air, snagging the scorpids. Gilda’s Stalagmite exploded in Glacial Eruption, coating the scorpids in ice and slowing them additionally.

  “I got ‘em,” Meritus said as if he’d read Frost’s mind.

  The black-furred gargant Bulwark unleashed a Soul Scream. Within seconds, all the scorpids were attacking the Bulwark.

  Charging Homer, Frost aimed, a flash letting him know when he’d locked on. A tap of the trigger and he’d moved on to the next. Within the four-second-charge window he had eight individual targets.

  “Let ‘em have it.” Frost launched Homer. Eight missile-shaped blasts of aether streaked away. A second later, he fired a Concussion Blast. He followed it with Divergence’s five-shot spread then bursts of Korbitanium Projectiles.

  Saba’s arrows blurred into targets. Fire Arrow. Aether Arrow. Ice Arrow.

  Gilda flicked up the hand holding the red chakram. A huge vortex of flame billowed around the scorpids and tanks. Partially hiding them from view, the superheated whirlwind swirled one way and spun the other, fire licking out.

  In the next instant, she bought her chakrams together. Their glows caressed each other, building brighter and brighter, changing hues to a purplish tint. She drew her hands back, ripping the chakrams away from each other, and then swept the weapons forward. All in one motion.

  A massive purple ball shot from between the chakrams, crackling and glowing with an electric energy. The ball was the width and height of two men. The Aether Pulse spun end over end, streaked across the distance, and struck among the scorpids, a coruscating purple circle exploding outward with a hum that rose in pitch before it faded.

  All of the creatures fell dead. Residual energy crackled around the carcasses.

  Large motes of aether shot into the air. They swirled for a moment. In the next second, they split apart and zipped into each group member.

  Frost basked in the exp and the Aether Absorption. And marveled at Gilda’s power. He’d also gained a point in aether, bringing it to fifty-nine.

  “Check for drops and make another pull.” A smile appeared on Gilda’s face. For a moment she looked like herself.

  With a shake of his head and a chuckle, Frost complied. He searched each corpse as fast as he could. He’d almost given up hope of finding anything, when a shard popped up on one of the last few carcasses. “I got one!”

  His joy fled in the next instant. His chest sagged. It wasn’t a skill-effect shard. “Forget it. It’s just a regular Suppression.”

  “At least we know they drop that particular skill,” Meritus said.

  “I guess.” Frost let out a breath.

  Following the same strategy, they ground for hours. Gilda also added Flash Freeze into her rotation whenever the mobs appeared to be too much for the tanks to handle. With a flick of her hand, a blue-white wave swept across the ground.
When it struck, it froze everything but their allies within fifty feet.

  But the scorpids changed upon every respawn, each time becoming fewer in number, the majority of them diving under the sand and remaining there, not even the hump giving them away. The larger scorpids were the only ones bold or stupid enough to attack.

  In the midst of a pull, Gilda let out a whimper and collapsed to the ground. Frost made to rush to her side.

  “I got her.” Meritus flung the colored balls and streams of several spells in Gilda’s direction. “Kill off these mobs.”

  Without a thought, Frost activated Stand and Deliver. Saba followed his lead with her Arrow Battery. In seconds, the scorpids were dead. Even as the last mobs fell, Frost ran to Gilda’s side, fearful of her condition.

  Her eyes were closed. She grimaced in obvious pain. Gray splotches covered most of the exposed portions of her body now, some of them with blackness around the edges like mold. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath. The white aura of Purifying Touch, Suppression’s yellow, Ameliorate’s blue, and Rejuvenate’s green commingled around her.

  In slow increments her breathing normalized, her chest rising and falling. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled weakly.

  Tightness eased from Frost’s chest. He wanted to ask her if she was okay but knew it would be a stupid question. Instead, he helped her to her feet.

  “Thanks.” She dipped her head to Meritus and Frost. “Now, let’s get back to this grind.”

  “No prob.” Frost knew it was her way of battling the sickness. A show of courage. Even if he hadn’t promised, he would have still refused to take the moment from her.

  “Gotta check for drops.” He indicated the carcasses around Dante.

  It was then that he noticed he’d reached level seventeen. The increase in strength to forty-two saw him gain an additional one percent in damage reduction, bringing it to six percent. It also added an extra point in vitality, which was now at fifty-eight. Agility was forty-eight, and his aether rose to sixty-four.

  He and Dante checked the dead. Not a single empowered spell had dropped. A dozen normal Suppression shards were all they had to show for the grind.