The Forsaken Crypts

by Terry C. Simpson

“Adds!” Frost warned in group chat.

  The stun had lasted for three seconds, but it seemed an eternity. Free at last, Frost took a step toward the alcove and faltered. He felt weak.

  Something was sucking at him. At first, he thought it might be the Gray Death, but a glance revealed a deeper darkness creeping over his arms and body. It ate away at his aether.

  The same ailment plagued the others. In fact, it connected them like ebony jewels on a string.

  “Get away from each other.” Frost did his best to scramble away despite his debilitation. “Dispel us, Meritus. And have your Servitors pick up on the other side.”

  Certain his friend would comply, Frost turned to the forsaken. He fired off Aether Fusillade and immediately selected Concussion Blast. A second later, he’d unleashed the Blast and began charging Aether Bomb even as the Fusillade exploded.

  Saba’s attacks joined Frost’s abilities. And though he caught at least three of the forsaken, two sword-wielding priests had gotten clear of the AOEs.

  They were on him and Gilda in seconds. At the same moment, the debilitation vanished. The death of the three activated Canon Kata.

  Using the combined speed of Aura of the Pack and Cannon Kata, Frost dodged his assailant’s thrusts. He dashed away, turned quickly, caught the forsaken with a Staggering Shot, and finished it with the rest of the combo. Chest heaving, he looked to Saba, but she had defeated the other forsaken.

  On the other side, Gilda had helped Meritus. Forsaken were strewn about the floor near his Servitors.

  Aether Absorption saw them regain some of the energy they’d lost. Meritus cast Aether Infusion to help the process.

  They made to resume the fight against Grenok when the void devourer flung another round of Shadow Globes and Lances. The shackles followed seconds later, quickly removed by Meritus. Grenok lashed at the air a third time.

  Immediately, Frost dropped to one knee, forced down by Grenok’s ability. His body throbbed. Inspecting himself, he saw his flesh rise and fall like a heartbeat.

  This time, Frost could tell his life force was ebbing. He snatched for extracts and drank heavily. The replenishment from them lasted but a moment before the drain commenced once more.

  “Get away from each other,” Frost croaked. “Meritus.”

  He followed his own command. He Leaped perhaps fifteen feet away.

  But instead of diminishing, the drain increased.

  “MERITUS!” Frost screamed in desperation.

  “It’s some kinda curse that I can’t cleanse.” Concern rang in Meritus voice. “I used my Overload skill, Ghena’s Blessing, which makes all my heals instacast. I’m healing y’all as fast as I can, but I can’t keep up. Not even with the Shaman’s help. And since you can’t use pots or extracts for another minute and change, this is the best I can do.”

  Frost’s mind cleared for an instant. A thought struck him, perhaps borne of desperation. “Everyone, bunch up on Dante.”

  No one protested. In seconds, they crowded within a few feet of the tank.

  The debilitation eased. The life drain was still occurring but at a much slower rate. Meritus’ heals refreshed Frost and the others.

  “Hit him with everything you got,” Frost ordered.

  They unleashed hell. Abilities exploded all over Grenok. The demon bellowed time and again. Within thirty seconds, the curse had worn off.

  Grenok thrust his hand out again. He cracked a smile.

  “Everyone but Dante, use one of the movement enhancers the moment he forms a fist. Flicker… Streak… any of them. That’ll eliminate the pull and stun. Then Leap over the wave.”

  Grenok made a fist.

  Frost Strafed and charged Homer at the same time, dashing some sixty feet over to a spot near the left alcove. By the time he stopped, the ground was quaking.

  The tsunami of stone, dust, and darkness rolled toward him and the others. Timing the wave, he Leaped high into the air, almost touching the stalactites. He frowned at the crystalline spikes and looked down. Forsaken were emerging from the door to the alcove. The wave of stone and dirt washed away the ground beneath Frost.

  But the darkness was higher than his jump. Frost sensed the aether drain even as he fell back to the ground and landed with a thud. The drain lasted but a few seconds, dispelled by Meritus.

  “Saba, attack the boss. I got all the adds.” Frost aimed above the left alcove, tapping his trigger to acquire targets. He did the same to the right.

  Howling, the forsaken charged down the bridge. Frost fired the Missiles. He switched to Concussion Blast and waited.

  The Missiles sped to the stalactites and exploded. A rain of crystalline spikes fell on the forsaken. Frost and the others were rewarded with aether.

  “Overload!” Turning to Grenok, Frost engaged his Concussion Blast and activated Overload. He fired off Aether Barrage, triggered Stand and Deliver, and unleashed destruction.

  The gold and blue ring of Korbash’s Retribution emanated from the ground around Dante, stretching out dozens of feet in every direction. Aether swirled into the air, formed motes, and zipped into the players.

  In the midst of the Overload skill barrage, Grenok flung Shadow Globes, Lances, and cast Immobilize’s shackles. He followed them with the life drain, which Frost had anticipated.

  Gritting his teeth, Frost endured the drain for the duration of Stand and Deliver. Meritus healed frantically, the motes of Tears and Blood becoming blue and red streaks.

  The moment Overload ended, Frost yelled. “Get to Dante to counter that drain!” Relying on Strafe, he followed his command, resuming normal attacks once the group was bunched together.

  “He looks like he’s close to death.” Saba worked her bow, firing constantly.

  “You might be right.” Frost studied Grenok.

  The devourer’s flesh had lost much of its luster. His body was less supple, his muscles atrophied. Black blood poured from too many wounds to count. The wisps of Gilda’s debuff still emanated from him.

  But it was his eyes that told the story. They were round with fear.

  “I hope you’re right, ‘cause we can’t keep this up.” Meritus’ chest heaved. His words were an echo of Frost’s thoughts. “Even with Korbash’s Retribution we’ll soon be completely dry.”

  “He changed,” Dante’s high-pitched voice said in group chat.

  But Frost had seen the transformation occur. Grenok appeared insubstantial. As if he wasn’t completely there. Their abilities and strikes passed through the demon to explode into the rear wall, blowing away chunks of stone.

  “Fuck. He Phased.” Frost deflated.

  Translucent turquoise beams shot over their heads and into the demon. Four of them.

  Frost spun. The four priests were no longer Phased. Their beams had reversed direction from them, into the orb, and over to Grenok.

  “Oh shit. That’s fucking healing him,” Dante shouted.

  A quick glance revealed the truth of the gurash’s words. Grenok’s body was regaining its sheen. The eyes did not appear so fearful. In fact, his fangs showed in a toothy smile.

  Snarling, Frost turned back to the priests and unleashed every skill he could.

  “No!” Saba cried.

  But the priests died to a hail of cannon fire and Gilda’s spells. Saba stared at them, mouth agape, eyes wide and filled with horror.

  “FREE! I AM FREE!” Grenok’s roar shook the pyramid.

  Heart racing, Frost spun to face Grenok, cursing himself for his stupidity. He prepared to fight to the death.

  But Grenok didn’t attack them. The devourer stared down at his shackles. With a look of utter confusion, he kicked. The shackles pulled taut against the rungs embedded in the walls.

  Below the rungs, priests rushed out from the alcoves. Not eight. Or
ten. Dozens of them. Their focus was on Grenok.

  “NO! NOOOOOOOOO!” Grenok’s scream was one of fear and desperation. Of terror. Of the denial of a freedom that was so close yet was so far.

  Tilting his head, Frost regarded the rungs and spoke in group chat. “Don’t let the forsaken get to the area by the orb. I got an idea. Gilda, Flash Freeze Grenok’s chains near the rungs.”

  As abilities erupted all around him, Frost charged Homer. Aiming at the walls and chains around the rungs and the stalactites above them, he tapped to lock on. He waited for Gilda’s Flash Freeze. The moment the chains and walls became encased in ice, he fired.

  The Missiles shot forth with a whoosh. One after another they blasted into the walls, the frozen chains, and the stalactites. A portion of the wall came crumbling down. The rung fell with it. The chains shattered.

  Grenok let out a triumphant bellow. “Thank you, little ones. Thank you, for now. I leave you a gift.” A sack appeared, tiny in the demon’s humongous hands. He tossed it at their feet. “I look forward to the day we battle at my full strength.”

  The Vindicator Sadonia quest line completed.

  Grenok the Devourer

  Objective Complete

  Get Past Grenok:

  50, 000 experience points

  2000 Ignis dominion credits

  2000 Puria dominion credits

  2000 Khertahka dominion credits

  2000 Lothal dominion credits

  2000 Nimri dominion credits

  Grinning, Frost picked up the sack. “And that, my friends, explains why there hasn’t been a World First Kill for him.”

  When he looked inside the sack, he immediately picked out the Empowered Ameliorate shard along with other treasures. His heart leapt.

  “Thank you.” He nodded to Grenok, feeling a sudden kinship.

  Grenok strode across to the other rung and snatched it from the wall. “HERZL! I COME!” Chains clinking, he dashed toward the wall, scaled it, and crashed through an alcove.

  The cacophony of battle ensued. Magic lit up the balconies. Bodies went flying out and down, splashing into the river of void energy.

  “Look.” Gilda pointed, her voice a husky whisper like death brushing across paper.

  A great circular ethereal beam extended from the floating orb down into the middle of the area. Within the light, two translucent pillars formed a sky-blue doorway taller than any of them.

  From the door stepped a gargant in elaborate silver armor. His body was incorporeal. As if he were Phased. His golden eyes focused on them.

  “You have done well, travelers.” His voice was deep, his accent thick. “However, this is but one step if you are to ward off the coming of the next Void Cataclysm.” He pointed up.

  “Above us, a treasure awaits. A Genesis Engine, one of the most powerful artifacts in Mikander. An artifact used to reshape the world itself.

  “You can gain use of it. Or perhaps can take it with you. But only if you can get to the roof before the crazed devourer destroys all before him. Grenok has never reached the top before, but today might be his day.”

  Frost glanced up. He saw no way they could catch up to Grenok. “How do we get to the roof before him?” Frost stepped forward.

  The Genesis Engine and the pull gnawing at him filled his thoughts. But more than that was hope. Life. Love. A chance to save himself, and even more so, to save Gilda.

  “Through this portal. But in order to use it, you must have the key.” The gargant gestured. A wide-bladed sword appeared in his hand. Smoky wisps drifted from it. He turned the blade and placed its point into the ground. His hands rested on the hilt, chest high. “I am Keymaster Gudbrand. To use me, you must solve a riddle. Answer incorrectly; you fail. Take too long; you fail. If you fail, you cannot use this portal and must find another way up. Try to force your way past me; you die.”

  Frost looked to Gilda. In her eyes, he saw his thoughts reflected. This had to be Pops’ handiwork. “You up for this?”

  “No doubt.”

  “Go ahead.” Stomach fluttering, Frost nodded to the Keymaster. The result here could be the difference between life and death.

  Keymaster Gudbrand cleared his throat. “You people are easily herded, chasing after treasure like it is sweet grass. But here it ends, for only a diablo awaits. There is no grazing to be had, no cud to be chewed, no king to be crowned, no hidden level to reach. Or is there? You have twenty seconds.”

  Frost stared at the gargant and then at Gilda. His mind drew a blank. He made a gesture of helplessness.

  Gilda stepped up beside him and took his hand. Their fingers entwined. She smiled at him, a twinkle in her eyes. “What would you do without me?” She faced the Keymaster. “There is no cow level.”

  “Welcome.” The Keymaster dipped his head. His blade disappeared. A silver light bloomed in his palm. The light drifted into the air, hovered, then zipped into Frost and the others, striking them on their right hands. “You have taken the first step toward joining the ranks of the Sapphire Phalanx.”

  A new main quest became available. The Sapphire Phalanx.

  Frost frowned. Not only was he ignorant of the Sapphire Phalanx, but he also felt no different. When he turned his hand, the back of it was covered by a tattoo of a silver ball with a sapphire edge. The tattoo itself appeared three dimensional, popping out from his skin. His friends all had the same tattoo.

  Keymaster Gudbrand held up his hand. He also had a tattoo, but flames encircled his, appearing to caper as if blown by a wind. “The mark is visible only to other Phalanx members.”

  “Sounds cool,” Frost said. “But what is the Sapphire Phalanx?”

  “Guardians of Mikander. The ones who will fight when the true war begins.” He stepped aside and beckoned them toward the portal. “The Genesis Engine awaits.”

  Squeezing Gilda’s hand, Frost suppressed the need to let out a cheer. They weren’t done yet. “I need to bring someone else to help us use the Engine. Will you let them in?”

  “If it is your command.” The Keymaster bowed slightly.

  Practically dancing with anticipation and excitement, Frost looked to Saba. “You’re the fastest of us. You gotta get Gearmaster Zod and Ryne.”

  “You forgot about the poison at the entrance?” Saba’s tail swished.

  Frost bent and reached into the sack at his feet. He pulled out a stack of vials like the ones Vindicator Sadonia had given to them. He passed them to her. “These should help. Off you go.”

  Left speechless, Saba tucked away the vials into the pouches on her belt. She turned and galloped away.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t ask what if WaR had already done this bit and went on up.” Meritus was watching the dresdor, who was little more than a blur. She disappeared up the hill.

  “We’ll find out soon enough.” Curious, Frost turned to the Keymaster. “Gudbrand, has anyone else used you before today.”

  “No.”

  A weight lifted from Frost’s chest. But a part of him itched to go through. Not only because the cure was at hand, but also the pull. It was stronger than ever. It demanded that he step into the door. Frost stroked his aether ring, fighting the need, impatiently waiting for Saba’s return.

  To pass the time, Frost decided to question Gudbrand about something that had piqued Frost’s interest in Mikander’s lore. “Keymaster, this true war you mentioned… exactly who’s the enemy?”

  “To answer that in a way you would understand, I would have to tell you a story. The story of Mikander’s birth as it was passed down to me.

  “Eons ago, the Divines battled each other for dominion over this universe. During this First War, two Divines, Marang and Sienne, fell in love. But Korbash, Sienne’s old lover, became jealous. Korbash tracked Marang, waiting for his target’s weakest mom
ent, the moment Marang and Sienne were together.

  “Korbash attacked. To save Marang, Sienne leaped in front of the spell and was wounded. Marang lashed out, injuring Korbash, but he, too, took a blow in the process.

  “Space around them destabilized from the release of such magics. They fell through a voidhole and ended up in a part of the universe so remote that it lacked the primordial energies from which they drew. Too grievously wounded to travel or to summon aid, they soon realized if they did not help each other, they would perish.

  “To heal, they needed more void and aether energy than their wounded bodies could produce. They pooled their power, creating a world around their bodies, creating Mikander. From their flesh came the land; their blood formed the seas; their breath made the air; their void and aether energy birthed Celestials upon the planet.

  “They named their first born the Ashuras, who were primarily aether-based, and the Daevas, who were of the void. These were the gods and goddesses we know today.

  “The Divines tasked them with creating new life whose cycles innately produced tiny amounts of aether and void energy. The Ashuras and Daevas were to collect this power, returning it to the Divines’ slumbering bodies, healing the Divines until the day they were strong enough to return to their old home.

  “Millennia passed. The two factions grew stronger, eventually feeding on their own creations rather than passing on the energy to their progenitors. The thirst for power took root.

  “And thus began the Celestial Wars.

  “The Daevas wanted to harvest aether and void energies to ascend to immortality. To become Divines. The Ashuras wanted to destroy the Daevas so they alone could rule. The two sides fought until only seven of each were left when there were once hundreds.

  “Seeing their imminent extinction, they called a truce. They copied their masters, created lesser beings, the races you know today, and left them to find their way. Then, they cast a spell upon themselves to induce a slumber like their progenitors. But with one difference.

  “A trigger for an Awakening.

  “When enough void and aether energy had gathered in Mikander by way of their new creations, seeping down to the slumbering Celestials by way of Mikander’s aether and void currents, the accumulation would cause an Ashura and a Daeva to wake. Their sole purpose would be to gather the energy, deliver it to their progenitors, and return to their sleep until the day the Divines stirred.