“A ruined tower?” mused Mirien. Pursing her lips, she stared pensively into the forest. “It must be Celne, then. It makes sense now…”
“Mirien?” Kyran prompted when she said no more.
She swung back to him. “Celne is the city we spoke of yesterday. It was the only large Crotan settlement ever built in the forest’s southern reaches.” She fell silent for a moment. “What Gaesin said earlier about necromancers is true. Most death mages seek power by reanimating the dead, but not all. Some search out the unquiet spirits of the world—wraiths—and bind them in service. And nowhere in the world are the spirits of the dead more restless than in broken Crotana,” she finished softly.
“Wraiths?” asked Kyran, disturbed by the thought of facing the undead spirits again. His only encounter with them had not gone well.
Adra grunted. “The necromancers’ location, by itself, is not much use.” She paused. “Unless you know how to get there too?”
Kyran shrugged helplessly. “I don’t,” he confessed. The Mare’s vision had been a confusing mess of images, and he had only been able to perceive the most intense ones.
“Knowing the necromancers are in Celne is enough,” said Mirien, disagreeing with Adra’s assessment. “Death magic, like all other magic, is limited by distance. The city and the necromancers have to be nearby, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to maintain control of their pets. I’d wager the city is no more than a few miles from the ford. It should not take us long to find it.”
Adra’s gaze flicked momentarily to Mirien before returning to Kyran. “Even if that is true,” she allowed, “are you sure you want to go there, Kyran?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I understand your urge to aid the ivoranors,” she said, leaning forward. “But can we afford to? Don’t forget where we are. You saw today how dangerous the Elder Forest can be. And it will only get worse. The herd’s conflict with the undead will have drawn other predators to the region. If we linger, we may attract more attention than we can handle. Every day we waste, we put ourselves more at risk.”
Adra sat back and shook her head. “As much as I hate to suggest it, the best course may be for us to ignore the necromancers and continue our journey north.”
“We can’t do that!” Mirien burst out. Kyran glanced at her, taken aback by her vehemence.
“Why not?” demanded Adra, seemingly just as startled.
Mirien met the wolven’s stare with a glare of her own. “We can’t ignore the ivoranors’ plight and just let them be tortured.”
Gaesin chimed in. “Remember, too, the necromancers would have seen us through the eyes of the ghouls. They will know what we have done and where we are. If we don’t take the fight to them, they may send the ghouls out against us, if for no other reason than to exact revenge.”
“It’s not our fight,” insisted Adra.
“What the necromancers do is inhumane,” Mirien protested.
“A day ago, you were against us even entering the forest,” growled Adra, “and now you want us to go charging into danger? What changed your mind, elf?”
Mirien reddened and ducked her head. “You’re right, Adra,” she said, finally looking up. “Going to Celne will court danger, unnecessarily so, but I have an… obligation to the forest. I cannot let the Mare’s plea go unanswered, even if it was not directed at me.”
Kyran’s face crinkled in confusion. An obligation? What does she mean? Adra looked similarly perplexed.
Noticing their expressions, Mirien sighed. But before Kyran could question her further, Aiken interjected. “I know where the city is,” he said.
The other’s eyes turned towards the bear. “Brother?” Kyran asked.
In response, Aiken sent a stream of images into Kyran’s mind. After a moment’s study, Kyran recognised them as being from the Mare’s sending. “Ah,” Kyran said. “Aiken has the herd’s memories of their journey from the ruins to the ford. He can lead us to the city.”
“Knowing how to get to the city will make our task easier, but it remains dangerous nonetheless,” said Adra begrudgingly. “Are you certain you want to do this, Kyran?”
Kyran’s gaze jumped between the two women. He would have to question Mirien further about her ties to the forest, but that was a matter for another time. “Yes. We will go to Celne and investigate the ruins. From there, we can decide how we proceed further.”
Adra gave a resigned nod “As you wish, Kyran.”
“Good, that’s settled, then. Everyone get some rest. I’m going to see to my levelling before I turn in.”
Game Data
Base skills in air magic, earth magic, and supportive magic have increased to 30. Effective skill: 76.5.
Base skill in beast bonding has increased to 30. Effective skill: 78.6.
Base skills in telepathy and body control have increased to 30. Effective skill: 61.2.
Base skill in light armour has increased to 26. Physical defence: 42.
Remaining: 0 combat SP, 3 combat AP.
Kyran’s Profile (Condensed)
Name: Kyran Seversan.
Combat level: 30. Civilian level: 32. Health: 320.
Attacks: 44.2 (slash), 61 (psi wave), 76.5 (shock bolt).
Defences: Physical (42), psi (32), spell (32).
Class skills
Beast bonding (78.6), body control (61.2), light armour (31.2), psionics (49), telepathy (61.2), air magic (76.5), earth magic (76.5), supportive magic (76.5), spellcasting (61.2), water magic (51), nature lore (33.6).
Other skills (0 combat and 0 civilian SP available)
Fire magic (43.4), longsword (10.4), telekinesis (26.5).
Commander (16.0), governor (14.4), mage lord (48.0), scrying (14.4), travelling (14.4), feudal lord (14.4).
New abilities (3 combat and 4 civilian AP available)
Boxer's strength, dancer's grace, woodsman, reveal beasts.
New items
None.
Chapter 5
01 Novo 2603 AB
Ghouls are one of the simplest forms of reanimated dead and are as mindless as skeletons. Yet because of their immunity to physical damage and their unusual—if erratic—ability to create more undead, ghouls are still the favoured pets of death mage. But the creatures cannot be easily obtained. Only centuries-old corpses may be reanimated as ghouls, which explains why necromancers are often found scavenging ancient burial sites. —Talys Madisine, necromancer.
The party reached Celne in the early hours of the next day. They’d made sure to get an early start and had reached the city’s outskirts after only a few hours of uneventful travel.
Kyran sat concealed with the rest of the party within the treeline and studied the open ground beyond. Celne had been constructed within a circular expanse of space cut out from within the forest. And while trees now dotted the area once occupied by a thriving city, the forest had not yet reclaimed the clearing.
The city itself was a ruined mess, filled with snow-covered buildings, shattered walls, overturned flagstones, and scorched homes. It was also much larger than Kyran had expected, extending far beyond his sight. In the far distance, he made out a broken spire, notable for its distinctive white exterior.
“The Ivory Tower of Celne,” murmured Mirien, noticing the direction of his gaze.
He glanced at her.
“It is said that the Tower was clad in ivory harvested from the ivoranor herds, and that the herds still migrate through the city every few years to pay homage to the Tower.” She paused. “I always believed the old tales to be an exaggeration, but perhaps there is more truth to them than I thought.”
Kyran’s gaze was drawn back to the tower. Even half-destroyed, the spire—or Ivory Tower, as Mirien called it—stretched nearly to the treetops. Before its destruction, it must have arched high over even the forest foliage. It was the most massive structure still standing in the city, and he assumed the most likely place to start their search for the necromancers.
Turning away from the Tower, Kyran studied the rest of the ruins. Nothing moved with the city. Even wild creatures seemed to shun its environs. Reveal beasts reported the city to be empty of animal life, at least to the limit of the spell’s reach. Whatever was in the city—whether necromancers or undead—it seemed it kept even the smallest of forest creatures out.
Kyran glanced up, shivering slightly as the breeze picked up. Here, on the edge of the treeline, the cloud-blanketed sky peeked through, and the forest offered no protection against the winter chill. Snow swirled down in an endless stream onto the city’s expanse, making venturing into its depths even less appealing.
Well, we’ve come all this way, it warrants a closer look at least. “Let’s do this carefully,” he said to the rest of the party. “I can’t sense anything within the city. Can any of you?”
The others shook their heads.
“Alright, we should make our way to that building,” he said, pointing out a likely structure halfway to the Ivory Tower. In better condition that the surrounding buildings, it looked like it would offer the party at least some shelter from the weather. “From there we can scout out the rest of the city.”
Adra glanced between the Ivory Tower and the building Kyran pointed to. “You think the necromancers are in the Tower?” she asked, gesturing to it with her chin.
“It seems the most likely place,” he said. “Now, if we are spotted, we retreat immediately back to the forest. Clear?”
The others nodded in emphatic agreement.
“Let’s go, then.”
✽✽✽
Cilantria floated through the dead city, orbiting its ivory heart as she had done countless times since the invaders had first arrived. Muttering imprecations to herself, she broke off her circling and charged inwards into the city’s depths yet again. Maybe this time—
She bounced off the ward. Once more, it proved impervious to her. How dare they come here! This was her city, hers and her sisters’ alone. I will not let them have it, she snarled to herself in thwarted rage.
Her ethereal shape, formed of half-seen threads of light, darkened and pulsed in time to her anger. She flew faster and dashed blindly through buildings grown as familiar to her as her own body had once been.
She completed another circuit of her prey’s den. Her unreachable prey. They were protected—for now. But when she got her hands on them… I will rend their flesh from their bones. I will tear out their hearts. What they had done could not go unanswered. They will writhe—
At the soft clatter of a stone, Cilantria jerked to a stop. What is that? Were more necromancers entering her beloved Celne? Her rage—already simmering—exploded.
Blots of darkness shot through the tattered wisps that were her anchor to the physical plane. One moment, Cilantria was a barely glimpsed shadow, the next an ominous pitch-black cloud of hate and wrath that even mortal sight could not fail to perceive.
She didn’t care though. Let them see her. It would be the last thing they saw. She would not make the same mistake with these newcomers she had with the others. She would slay them before they could escape.
Chuckling to herself, Cilantria floated towards the sound that had marked the intruders’ location.
✽✽✽
The party slowly made their way through the city, slipping cautiously between the shadows. The overcast sky and swirling snow helped, reducing visibility so heavily that even Aiken’s bulk was hard to spot. So far their entrance into the city had gone unnoticed.
Kyran had briefly considered splitting the party, and sending Mirien and Adra ahead to scout. But he had feared doing so without knowing the necromancers’ capabilities. If the two tripped the death mages’ magical defences, he wanted the party together to fend off whatever came of it.
There were also the dangers of the forest itself. Kyran was not sure the rest of the party, if left behind, would be any safer. It was best, he had concluded, to keep the party together.
Blended, and buffed with mind-over-matter and boost speed, Kyran crept noiselessly after Adra and Mirien. Aiken and Gaesin followed in his wake—less noisily—while the five forest serpents brought up the rear, their sinuous shapes silently gliding through the ruins.
It had taken quite a bit of prodding for him to get the serpentine beasts to enter the city. The creatures had resisted his initial commands and for a while Kyran had feared he would be forced to abandon the snakes altogether, but eventually his dominance over them proved sufficient.
“Halt.” Adra’s whispered command floated through the battlegroup. Kyran froze in his half-crouch and waited.
“Ghouls up ahead,” Adra continued. Following on her words, a Game alert sounded in his mind.
Show hostiles has uncovered 6 ghouls.
Kyran flicked his gaze inwards, and in strained silence observed the red icons that had appeared on his player’s map. The six undead meandered in a slow circuit across the northern edges of his magical awareness, the trajectory of their path at near right angles to the party’s.
The tension in his shoulders dissipated. He had feared for a moment that the party had been discovered.
“That was a patrol, I think,” whispered Adra, confirming his own suspicion. “They’re gone now,” she added. Only a little later, though, she said, “Look out, here comes another.”
Six more icons emerged through the top edges of Kyran’s map and disappeared a little later; the second patrol following near the exact same trajectory as the previous one.
“The area appears thick with ghouls. What do you want to do, Kyran?” asked Adra.
Kyran bit worriedly at his lip. They had crossed little less than half the distance to their target building. He had not expected to find undead patrolling this far out. It appeared his assumption that the necromancers were using the Ivory Tower as their base might be wrong, or that there was something else the mages wanted to protect in this part of the city. Whatever the case, it was time to withdraw and rethink.
“Adra—” he began, then stopped, puzzled. An odd ringing had caught his attention. He cocked his head to the side as he tried to pinpoint the source. What is that?
The ringing grew louder. Through the mindscape, he sensed Aiken’s sudden concern. Then Kyran’s entire being began vibrating in time to the ringing. He glanced down at his hands. They were trembling. What’s going on?
“Kyran, is everything alright?” asked Gaesin.
“I’m not sure,” he murmured. “Where is that ringing coming from?” Closing his eyes, he held himself still while he searched out the source of the chimes.
“Ringing?” asked Adra in confusion. “What ringing?”
“I don’t hear anything,” Gaesin added worriedly.
But Kyran only half heard them, his concentration focused on tracing the mystery sound. A second later, his eyes flew open.
He was the source of the vibrations.
✽✽✽
When she caught sight of the newcomers, Cilantria’s rage drained nearly as quickly as it had grown. They were not necromancers.
They are still invaders, though, she thought, trying to hold onto her empowering fury. But she knew better. Her anger slipped beyond her grasp, overcome by another emotion… curiosity. When her wrath vanished, her form dissipated back into a half-seen blur.
The latest group of invaders were decidedly odd. One of them in particular drew her gaze. She studied him intently. Something was different about him. But what?
She floated closer.
There were nine in his party, including five serpents. Her attention flickered momentarily to the beasts. No touch of undeath surrounded them. Definitely not necromancers, then. She sidled nearer.
Then, as if the strings of her spirit had been plucked, she began vibrating. What—? Stunned, she lost control of herself and sank a few inches into the floor. Shock was a new emotion for her, one she had not tasted in the entirety of her existence as a spectre.
She ignored her half-submersed state though, her min
d fully occupied by the unexpected jolt that had set her being quivering. She knew that sensation but had not felt its like in more than six hundred years. It couldn’t be, could it?
She vibrated again.
Oh gods. She had not imagined it. Can it really be? But it was impossible. He was dead. But undeniably, the artefact still existed and it was here. Her eyes pierced the green-haired elf. And he had it.
Pulling herself back into the air, Cilantria stared hard at the mortal. What was the elf doing with the priceless relic? Who was he? How could he be a Bearer?
She vibrated again.
Across the distance, she saw the elf still and tilt his head to the side. Damnation! He felt the artefact’s chimes too. She couldn’t let herself be found, not until she understood what was going on. Hastily, Cilantria withdrew. She would watch the Bearer from afar. For now.
Then she would act.
✽✽✽
The ringing stopped.
Kyran’s mouth dropped open in surprise. What in the world? One moment the vibrations had been steadily increasing, and the next they had cut off abruptly.
He had only progressed as far as confirming the chimes were not audible—at least not in the ‘real’—and that somehow they originated from the ether. He turned his gaze inwards and searched the Game logs for any clue as to what had transpired. Nothing. Confused, he opened his eyes.
His companions were huddled together and peering worriedly at him. “Kyran, are you alright?” whispered Mirien.
He blinked and shook his head to clear it of the chime’s last echoes before returning his attention to his surroundings. A trail of red dots marched along the northern edge of his map. “Not here,” he whispered back to her. “Let’s retreat to the city’s outskirts and talk there.”
It did not take the party long to retrace their steps to the settlement’s perimeter. Once they were sheltered within a roofless structure that had only two walls still standing, Kyran explained what had occurred.
Sovereign (The Gods' Game, Volume IV) Page 8