The Forsaken Crypts

by Terry C. Simpson

  “Hold,” Sadonia yelled when no more undead tried to pass through the deluge of destruction.

  Frost stopped firing. The death knights had also fallen, their bones scattered, skulls crushed.

  Another quest completed beneath Vindicator Sadonia.

  Objective Complete

  Crypt Guardians

  Defeat the Crypt Guardians attacking Vindicator Sadonia’s expedition:

  30, 000 experience points

  500 Ignis dominion credits

  500 Lothal dominion credits

  500 Khertahka dominion credits

  500 Puria dominion credits

  Combined with the exp from the kills and the first Sadonia quest, Frost leveled up.

  “Yes!” He fist-pumped. “I made it guys. Level twenty.”

  “Grats,” everyone said.

  A weight lifted from him. Finally, he could enter the Crypts to save Gilda.

  Vindicator Sadonia approached before Frost could take a stock of his new stats. “Thank you.” She regarded them with steely eyes. “But you should not be here. This place is off-limits.”

  Her gaze lingered on Gilda for but a moment before her eyes narrowed. Sadonia flared open her warfan, hazy energy gathering around its edge as she prepared to attack.

  “Senaty sent us,” Frost blurted. Frantic, he snatched the medallion from his pocket and held it up. “Aether is life. Aether is life.”

  The Vindicator’s gaze shifted to the medallion for an instant, but her warfan remained open and pointed in Gilda’s direction, a translucent haze etched in the empty space around its curved end, the power of the windwalker pushing against Frost as if the air itself lived. With a flourish of her hands, she made the warfan and its power disappear. The weapon reappeared on her back, one end jutting above her shoulder.

  Frost let out a shuddering breath. His racing heart slowed. “Senaty said you’re to return this to her at the camp.”

  Sadonia strode over to Frost and took the medallion. She looked it over, grumbled something under her breath, and then let out a resigned sigh. “So, who is it that Councilwoman Senaty has sent to me?” She regarded them with a flat expression.

  Frost rattled off their aliases. He kept a straight face beneath the Vindicator’s withering gaze.

  Sadonia shook her head. “I guess I can find a use for you, since it seems you are here either in search of a cure or because of what’s drawing corrupted to this place.” She glanced at Gilda.

  “The answers you seek are inside. I believe a void devourer named Grenok holds them all. He’s the underling of the draconid herald, Herzl, the one who sends his beasts to take subjects for his experiments.”

  “So, we go in, kill Grenok the Devourer, and get the cure.” Frost shrugged. He’d come all this way to craft Benediction and the spells to save Gilda. If a faster method existed to acquire the cure, he was all for it.

  A quest for Grenok the Devourer revealed itself in The Cure chain beneath almost all the others.

  “But there is one issue,” the Vindicator added.

  Frost blew out a breath. He should’ve known it sounded too good to be true.

  “To enter the Crypts, you must pass through a corridor into which infected blood pours. It sprays out like a fine mist. There is no way to avoid it. You will be exposed to a strain of the Gray Death so potent that its effects can appear in minutes. Once corrupted by this strain, you have but an hour to live.” The Vindicator held up a square container. Vials of blue liquid were slotted into holes. “Unless you have this serum. It seals your skin, prevents the Gray Death from getting into you.”

  “So, it’s a cure?” Frost squinted in confusion.

  “No. It only prevents the infection from getting into you, and only does so for a few minutes while exposed. It cannot remove the plague. If you were to pass through the hall again on your way out, you would contract the Gray Death.”

  Frost regarded the serum. “You have enough for going and coming, right?”

  She shook her head. “I just gave some to several groups like you so I only have enough for you to enter. You will have to find another way out. Also, I’m short one vial for your group, despite one of you not needing it.” She was looking at Gilda again.

  “We won’t be short. The goblin isn’t coming,” Frost said. “He’ll be staying out here.”

  “Ah.” Vindicator Sadonia nodded. She took a step and passed a vial each to Dante, Saba, and then Meritus.

  Sadonia was handing one to Frost when a red Piercer shot exploded into her chest. The vial fell from her hands. She went flying.

  Frost tried to catch the vial. It struck his hand, spun off, and hit the ground. It shattered. Blue vapor drifted into the air.

  CHAPTER 30

  “Did anyone see who shot me or where the attack originated?” Vindicator Sadonia struggled to her feet, armor blackened where the Piercer had struck.

  Her soldiers were peering in multiple directions, weapons aimed. But there was no one to attack.

  “I didn’t.” Frost suspected the cannoneer from WaR was responsible but wasn’t willing to openly accuse the man without proof.

  Had the WaR cannoneer intended to hit the Vindicator? Or had he recognized me and the others? Or was the attack just to stop us from going into the Crypts? Stop us from being first to the Genesis Engine?

  “What will you do now?” Vindicator Sadonia’s voice broke Frost from his thoughts. “It will take me a day to make another batch of serum.”

  “We don’t have a day.” Frost shook his head, Gilda’s condition weighing on his mind. “There’s gotta be another way.”

  Sadonia shook her head. “There isn’t.”

  “Then I’ll just have to risk it.” Frost shrugged.

  Sadonia’s brow wrinkled. “You’re going to risk dying or worse?”

  “Or worse?” Frost repeated with a grimace.

  “There are three results to corruption.” Sadonia’s voice was flat. “Death is the merciful one. The others are becoming void beasts or draconids.”

  A hush fell over the group. All eyes were on Frost. Gilda was shaking her head. As was Meritus.

  He smiled at his friends. “Nothing worth doing is easy. And there’s nothing like a challenge to keep you on your toes. Whether it’s making sure Gilda lives or that she doesn’t turn into something else, I’m not gonna stop now. If it means I gotta risk what she’s suffering, then it is what it is.”

  Gilda stepped up to him, took his hands, and looked up into his eyes. “You don’t have to do this. We can just let the Gray Death run its course, see what happens, and hope for the best IRL.”

  “Nahhhh. We not doing that. I promised I’d never let you die, remember?” He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. She nodded and offered a tender smile as he continued. “The fact there’s a chance you could die falls under that same umbrella. I also promised to cure you. I keep my promises. A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”

  “No doubt.” Her smile was wider now. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

  “Well, it’s decided, people,” Meritus said. “We’re going in and doing what we came to do. By the way, we need to collect those forsaken bones over there.” He pointed to the bones strewn around the area before the Crypt’s main gate.

  Vindicator Sadonia strode over to Frost and Gilda. “If you succeed, the Coalition will owe you a debt if you return with the cure.”

  “Not if… when.” Frost glanced down at Sadonia. “And I look forward to presenting the cure to the Coalition.”

  “Very well.’ Sadonia nodded. “I shall send word for reinforcements.”

  A new quest line popped up in IM. The Coalition’s Debt.

  “We have one more thing to do before we head in.” Frost envisioned the Meet the Hierkaneer
quest. It showed the location was just around the other side of the Crypts. He mounted. “Follow me, people. Vindicator, we’ll return soon.”

  Leading the group, Frost rode to the location in question. He saw no one. An Echolocation scan allowed Frost to pick out Adesh’s Concealed hierkaneer, so small of stature Frost almost missed the person.

  Frost held up a closed fist for the others to stop while he continued on slowly. “Gearmaster Zod, I’m Frost. Adesh Hamada sent me.”

  Still Concealed, Zod approached. When Zod made himself visible, Frost spun to Ryne.

  But Dante was faster still. He’d already snatched up a dark-faced Ryne and was trying his best to calm the goblin.

  “A gnome. He sends a bloody gnome?” Ryne’s angry voice sputtered into silence, his mouth covered by Dante’s hand.

  Gearmaster Zod frowned in the direction of the commotion and spoke in a squeaky voice. “Took you long enough.” Dressed in leather coveralls to match his dark brown skin, he had a backpack and a belt from which hung various tools. “Any longer and those forsaken were gonna find me.” The gnome shuddered.

  Another muffled outburst came from Ryne’s direction. In the back of his mind, Frost noted he’d gained five thousand exp from the quest.

  “What’s his problem?” Gearmaster Zod tilted his head to peer around Frost’s mount.

  “He’s happy to see you.” Frost offered as genuine a smile as he could manage.

  Gearmaster Zod arched a brow. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

  “He is. Trust me.” Frost shrugged. “Anyway, I’m just glad you’re here. We’re about to head in and clear this place. Ryne’s gonna be here to protect you. We’ll send word when we’re ready for you.”

  “Which one of you is Ryne?” The Gearmaster looked from one to the other. All eyes shifted to the goblin, whose little legs were kicking at Dante. Zod shook his head slowly. “I’m not too sure about that.”

  Frost turned his hand palm up. “It’s either him.” He jabbed a thumb back in the direction from which they’d come. “Or you can hang out with the Vindicator and the Coalition soldiers around the corner.”

  Gearmaster Zod gaped. In the next moment, he’d Concealed. “I’ll be here with the goblin.”

  “Exactly what I thought.” Smiling, Frost turned away and headed to Ryne and Dante. Frost lowered his voice so only his group could hear. “Ryne, calm down for a second.”

  The goblin was glaring past Frost, still struggling to be free of Dante’s grip. A long moment passed before Ryne stopped kicking and focused on Frost with eyes like beads.

  “I don’t know why you hate gnomes like you do,” Frost said, “but you gotta chill until we save Gilda. This isn’t about a job. This isn’t about being the boss. I’m asking as a friend. As family.”

  A pained expression crossed Ryne’s face. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he let his hands fall to his sides. Dante let out a whoosh of relief and placed Ryne back atop his mount.

  Ryne muttered something about robbed and killed before grumbling, “I’ll do this for you as a friend and family. For all of you, even though it hurts me.” He let out a long, slow, shuddering breath.

  “Thank you.” Frost dipped his head. “Let’s go.”

  He returned to Gearmaster Zod with Ryne at his side. He introduced them, but all Ryne did was stare poison in the direction of the gnome, who remained Concealed. With a sigh, Frost hoped Ryne would keep his word.

  They said goodbye to Ryne, who was as glum as ever. He’d resorted to acting as if the gnome didn’t exist. They turned their mounts over to Ryne’s care and set about collecting the forsaken bones.

  Frost took a look at his new stats since reaching twenty.

  Strength: 51

  Agility: 56

  Vitality: 71

  Aether: 80

  Physical Attack Power: 164 − 174

  Movement Speed: 112

  Haste/Attack Speed: 2

  Aether Power: 280 − 300

  Stagger Resist: 4%

  Damage Reduction: 6%

  Mouth downturned, he shook his head. His defense was in need of serious work. Eventually, the neglect would catch up to him.

  Frost took out the shard for Aether Fusillade. He absorbed it.

  Aether Fusillade:

  Cast time: instant

  Cooldown: 30 seconds

  Consumes: Aether

  Available shard slots: 3

  Effect: Rapid fire four Piercers in a three-hundred-foot range for maximum damage. Piercers can be detonated before impact, causing an explosion in a hundred-foot radius for 50% less damage than a direct Piercer hit. If secondary activation occurs within 100 feet of a summoned Walker bot, the Walker unleashes Ground Zero, firing five Aether Bombs at the detonations. Ground Zero ability requires bot.

  Frost’s eyes widened at the skill and the mention of the Walker bot. He looked forward to the day he gained one. He also wished he had a chance to practice the new skill but surrendered to the fact his use of it would have to be a trial by fire.

  When they collected enough bones, they headed to the main gate. They passed through the gate, crossed a courtyard, and were faced with a door.

  Above the door was a plaque. It read:

  Here rests dead kings. There is no sanctuary to be found. Within these tombs, you are no more than a farm animal. Fodder for the undead. Only the appropriate level will see you pass. Only the appropriate level= will see you to the treasures at the top. They are not one and the same. When the question is asked, answer it true. But first, you must face death. Enter at your own risk.

  “Sounds an awful lot like a riddle.” Saba’s tail was swishing.

  “It might be.” Gilda squinted up at the plaque. Her lips moved, reciting the words.

  Frost tried to think of a meaning but came up empty. “If it’s a riddle, hopefully we can figure it out in case we need it, but there’s no turning back now. Let’s get these void beholder eyes, kill Grenok, and finish this. Drink up, people.”

  He waited for them to consume Sadonia’s serum. When they were done, he stepped up, grabbed the handle, and pulled. The door creaked open. He peeked inside. A long corridor stretched ahead to another door.

  “Looks like the area Sadonia warned us about. Stay on your toes.” Frost ushered the others inside and then brought up the rear after Gilda.

  When he entered, the door slammed shut. A foul-smelling black mist sprayed into the air. It filled the room in seconds.

  “Get to the other side!” Covering his mouth and nose with one hand, Frost broke into a run.

  He could barely make them out as the mist grew thicker. Darker. He followed the slaps and thuds of their feet. The mist soon became choking. It stung his eyes. It felt hot against his skin. The heat grew to flames seeping into his flesh. He cried out.

  In seconds, his legs were heavy. So heavy. He felt as if he’d been running for hours. His chest heaved. He tried to stop himself from inhaling, but his burning lungs craved fresh air. His mind wanted him to lie down. His body called for him to rest.

  He refused.

  “Keep coming, Frost!” It was Gilda’s voice. It seemed so far away. “Keep coming.”

  He pushed on ahead though he couldn’t see. Step by excruciating step. He had to make it to her voice. He had to make it to her.

  I’m not gonna die here. No way. The people I love are relying on me to make it. If I die. They die. No way I’m gonna let them down. One more step. One more. One more.

  He repeated those last words continually. Above his repetition, he heard a noise. Hands grabbed him.

  “It’s me, baby,” Gilda said. “I’m here with you. We can do it.”

  He held onto her hands, fighting the urge to surrender. And then he was clear of the mist. Clear of the room. So
meone splashed him with water again and again.

  Chest feeling as if it would burst, Frost opened his eyes. Meritus and Dante held buckets. His friends stood all around him, concern etched upon their features. Tears streamed down Gilda’s cheeks.

  Frost coughed up black mucus. It tasted vile. Black waste trailed from his feet, running down into a nearby drain.

  He froze, staring at his hand. His veins were black. Gray splotches marred his magenta skin, the magenta itself appearing less vibrant. Sickly. Little bubbles had popped up all over him. More formed as he watched.

  CHAPTER 31

  “Fix your faces, people. Stop looking as if I’m dead already.” Frost offered his friends a smile he didn’t feel inside. “We’re gonna beat this thing.”

  He knew the poison was eating its way inside him. He felt it. The burning. The way his head ached. And there was this nagging, intermittent ring in his skull, a clink that reminded him of chains. He fought the pain and noise as best he could, driving them to the back of his mind with thoughts of Gilda.

  “I hope you’re right, dawg.” Meritus shook his head, somber voice matching his doleful expression. “From the looks of it, I can’t slow down the corruption.”

  “How can you tell for sure?” Dante squinted at Frost, and then his expression soured. “Is it the way he looks?”

  Frost arched a brow. “I look that bad?” He glanced down at the back of his hands. Sores covered his mottled gray and purple skin. If the rest of my body looks like this. He killed the thought and resisted the urge to touch his face to see if sores covered it. Brows drawing together, he noticed something else.

  He felt stronger. A lot stronger.

  “It’s pretty bad, bro.” The gurash blew out a breath and shook his head.

  “Make me feel worse, why don’t you?” Frost scowled.

  “Sorry.” Dante hung his head.

  “To answer your question about how I can tell.” Meritus was looking at Dante with lidded eyes, clearly annoyed by the tank’s disgusted reaction to Frost. “The best I can come up with is that it’s a vision unique to this class. Or maybe the skills. I can see how much a person is hurt, how much of an effect the healing or dispelling skills would have.” He regarded Frost with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, homie.”