by Kyle Johnson
Silma sat in front of the window, her eyes gazing out into the darkness, keeping watch for them. Aranos didn’t know how good her vision was, really, but her hearing and sense of smell were amazing. He was certain there were few things that could sneak up on her, and he wasn’t eager to meet any of those things. Her ear twitched as he entered, showing him that she knew he was there, and he moved up to stand beside her, looking out the window. He placed his hand on her back and scratched gently as he gazed out into the dark night.
The hunters are about tonight, her voice spoke in his mind, drawing his attention to the window. Dark shapes moved along the road below them, most too distant for him to make out any details. Nearer, a small group of figures resolved into a band of uruks, moving toward the tower. He tensed up, thinking he would need to wake Geltheriel, but suddenly a sea of black tentacles erupted from the side of the Road, snatching the hapless humanoids and dragging them into shadows. Aranos heard the faint screams from the creatures abruptly end, and he swallowed hard.
“Looks like it was a good idea to camp in here, then, right?” he asked Silma softly. “That road doesn’t look very safe at night.”
A very good idea. The creatures that would be hunters during the day seem to be the prey once darkness comes. At least, in here, we can rest.
“If you’re tired, you can get some sleep,” he told her. “I’m good for the night, and I’m probably going to spend some time working on my magic and training my Stats.”
I’m not tired, yet, she replied simply. I don’t need as much sleep as elves do; if I had to, I could go for a few days without it. I’ll keep watch so you can get stronger.
“Okay, but only for a couple hours,” he told her. “You need to sleep, too. Tomorrow will probably be another long day.”
She didn’t reply, so he shrugged and took out the training crystals Geltheriel had procured for him. First, he removed the Agility and Dodging crystal and strapped it to his waist, tapping it three times. He spent the next hour dodging phantom attacks; he rolled, tumbled, and leaped as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t completely avoid being hit. When his SP started getting low, he tapped the crystal again to stop the exercise, regenerated for a few minutes, and threw himself back into the training.
Dexterity and Perception were next, and he spent another hour targeting imaginary circles with an illusory bow and arrows, loosing as quickly as he could without hitting the red discs that caused him pain. His arms blurred and his fingers cramped as he strained to track the erratically moving targets, and when the hour was done, he sat heavily, panting, as he recovered his SP. While his Archery Skill was easily up to the task of taking out the small targets, his Perception and Dexterity weren’t, and that meant he had to keep his Rapid Shot Ability active as much as possible to stay ahead of the rapidly moving circles.
Finally, he strapped the Strength and Endurance crystal around his neck, tapping it three times as well. Instantly, a second skin of some dense, metallic substance wrapped itself around his body, moving easily with him but weighting him down significantly. Taking a deep breath, he began a series of calisthenics interspersed with cardio training; while he couldn’t run in here, he improvised with a series of jumping jacks, squat jumps, and burpees. As he progressed, the weight on his body slowly increased until by the end of the training, he could barely move, much less jump. When the training was done, he dropped to the floor and pulled up his Stat gains:
Through special training, you have gained the following:
Str +4 (Grueling)
Dex +4 (Grueling)
Agil +4 (Grueling)
End +4 (Grueling)
Per +4 (Grueling)
You have reached your daily limit for Physical Stat Training!
Further training will have no benefits until a full rest is completed.
You have increased your Per Stat to more than 50 points! By surpassing this threshold, you have advanced this Stat to a new level and gain a bonus based on your playstyle:
Enhanced Senses: Your effective sensory range is increased by 50%.
Skills: You gain a bonus of 10% to all Perception-based Skills and Abilities.
Bonus: Your True Vision Ability gains a 10% bonus to attempts to see through Stealth or invisibility.
Aranos blinked as suddenly, the night seemed to come alive around him. The muted sounds of the road below were now a clearly heard cacophony of screams and cries. His eyes spotted tiny details he’d missed before, from the gleaming spiderweb in a corner of the ceiling to the tracery of fine lines running through the stonework around him. He rubbed his arms as the gentle night breeze tickled his skin, and the scent of blood and offal suddenly rose from the road below, filling his nose.
Ugh, that’s disgusting, he grimaced mentally, snorting as he tried unsuccessfully to get the stench from his nose. This will help my Tracking Skill and Scent Ability a fair bit, though.
Silma padded up to him as he rested on the floor. Are you finished? she asked him silently. If so, I’m going to go take a nap.
“I thought you could go for days,” he grinned at her, ruffling her fur playfully.
I can. Just because I can do something doesn’t mean I will do that, though. That’s something for you to remember, I think.
“Okay, that’s probably a good point,” Aranos nodded. “Good night, girl.” The fenrin snorted once as she padded over to the far end of the room, curling up on the floor with her head turned away from the Sorcerer. Aranos smiled at her before turning back to the window.
The night was still alive with activity. He didn’t spot many uruk parties – after what he’d seen before, he had a feeling daylight was the only time it was safe for them to travel – but he saw other creatures that approached the tower. One was a large and lumbering thing, with arms long enough that its knuckles scraped the ground as it walked. Another was oddly spiderlike, skittering down the road, pausing at the base of the tower before moving on.
Each time something neared them, he tensed, preparing to warn the others, but every creature simply investigated the tower briefly before moving on. None stopped for long or tried to breach the crystal seal plugging the door. He began to relax and simply observed the shapes in the darkness, letting his mind drift. Night in the Blightlands away from Eredain, he realized, was a more dangerous place than he’d imagined, if the High Road was an indication. He knew that the game kept the area closer to the Stronghold safer, but he still thought it was pretty dangerous. Now, though, he was seeing that he was wrong.
Here, farther from the security of the border, it seemed like the Blightlands operated by a simple motto: you are predator, or you are prey. As he watched, a small group of humanoids – they looked like uruks but were larger and appeared better-equipped – was torn to pieces by a large, four-armed creature. The victor crouched over the fallen corpses, either looting or eating them, he guessed. After several minutes, though, it rose quickly, just as a dozen dark, bent figures swarmed out of the shadows and overwhelmed it, dragging it to the ground. Its screams matched those of the creatures it had just defeated, as it went from victor to victim.
And those will probably be taken down by something else, he mused. It’s like a constant cycle of destruction out here…
He sat back and let the night creep by, reviewing his battle for the tower and contemplating the kinds of Spells that would have made his raid easier. One thing that would help was better weapons and armor, for sure, and he thought that might be possible if he spent some time studying the crafting supplies Ilmadia had given him. Maybe he’d find a crystal or alloy that would take better Enchantments or runes, allowing him to craft more powerful items for all of them. He contemplated what would work best and what he’d like to do, spending the evening in quiet contemplation.
As the sun finally crept over the horizon, its wan radiance driving away the dark creatures below, he smiled. He knew what he would be doing tonight, and it wasn’t taking over the world.
Chapter 6
Ma
rtina crept over the ridgeline and peered down at the massive spider-like creature that perched on a rock outcropping below, its chitin gleaming black and scarlet in the dim light from the dawning sun. If insects in the game are anything like the ones IRL, she thought absently, this will be the best time to hit it. It’ll still be slow from the cool of the evening, and the fact that a lot of animals are going to start moving around pretty soon will distract its vision.
She scanned the ground with her heightened Perception – after Dexterity, it was her highest Stat – and spotted the wispy strands of silk that the spider had doubtless laid to help it detect anything moving toward it. Yeah, it’s an ambush predator, she realized. It’ll never come to us; we’re gonna have to go to it.
She carefully slid back down the slope, being cautious not to disturb the predator. It would make a good addition to Liam’s growing menagerie; he’d asked her if it would be okay for the party to help him grab some of the creatures they met along the way that might be useful in retaking the city. She hadn’t seen an issue, so she went along with it.
Just like you go along with everything he says, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. You know, like when he suggested that you go scout out the giant spider instead of his little tame Rogue. Martina angrily tuned the voice out; it only made sense for her to go scout. She was the Ranger, after all, and that’s what they did; they scouted out enemies and found ways through the wilderness.
Plus, the trip so far had been really lucrative, at least in terms of XP. She and Hector were both up to level 7, getting closer to level 8, and they’d scored a bunch of exotic hides and components they could sell when they got back to human lands. Of course, Liam’s the one holding onto all those for you, the quiet voice reminded her, and she picked up her pace, refusing to listen to the mocking tone in her head.
She jogged back to the camp, taking only a few minutes to make her way there, and stopped before the tall Summoner. “You were right,” she told him with a grin. “There’s a really large spider just over the ridge, and it looks like it’s just warming up from the cold of the night. If we hit it now, it’ll probably still be slow and sluggish.”
Liam’s eyebrows rose impressively. “You certainly know your spiders,” he told her admiringly. “Where did you learn so much about them?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she blushed, not wanting to share that collecting insects and arachnids had been a hobby of hers, starting when she was a kid and lasting all the way into college. “Point is, if you want that thing, we should go now to get it.”
“Let’s get moving, then, Party Leader,” he told her. “I’ll get Monetta and you get Hector. Send him over to me, and the three of us will attack it from the front and sides, while you hit it from the slopes…if that’s okay?”
“Uh, yeah,” she stammered, trying to think of a reason to say no. “That sounds like a good plan. Let’s do that.” She turned and strode off to grab Hector, ignoring the uneasy voice in her head that kept asking who was really leading this party, anyway.
Phil slammed his shield into the gray-skinned creature before him, smashing the smaller being back and thrusting his sword into its throat. A crossbow bolt sped by his head and pierced the creature’s eye, and it fell to the ground, clutching the bolt as it bled out.
Phil stepped forward, his shield held in front of him, pushing aside the pair of spears that stabbed out at him and lifting the polearms up and to the side as he chopped his blade into an unarmored thigh. Another spear slid across his armor, scoring a thin line of blood as it grazed his side, but he ignored the thrust and pushed, knocking the two in front of him back a step. A second bolt took one in the throat, and Phil kicked the wounded creature in the chest, sending it tumbling to the ground.
The spear that had grazed him returned, this time stabbing into his side more deeply. He grunted at the pain and twisted, removing the point from his side and slashing his blade toward the second creature’s face. It leaped back, and its heavy, coarse features creased with pain as one of McBane’s blades punctured its kidney. A bolt followed, taking it in the face, and it, too, fell heavily to the ground.
Phil straightened as a wave of healing energy flowed through him, instantly easing the agony in his side. He deflected the last spear and slammed the pommel of his blade into the final creature’s forehead, rocking its head back. He slammed his shield into its chest, stepped forward, and pushed. The creature tried to catch its balance but, hampered by the wounded leg, it fell to the ground. Phil slammed the lower edge of his shield into its wounded leg, drawing a howl of pain that was cut off by McBane’s blade entering its eye socket.
Phil took a deep breath and wiped down his sword before sheathing it – as it turned out, the game was realistic enough that your sword could get stuck if you put it away without cleaning it, and that had not been a fun encounter for Phil the day he found that out – and turned back to his party.
“You’re getting better at that, Irric,” Meridian told him, a glint in her eye at his sigh of exasperation. “You only got wounded – what, six times that fight? That’s way down from the twenty or so when we first started doing this.”
“Seven,” McBane spoke up. “He pretended that spear in his left arm didn’t get him, but I saw the blood trail. Nothing gets past me, after all.”
“Like the fact that he tried to amputate that poor thing’s leg with his shield, right at the end?” Longfellow spoke up. “Never seen that one before, Irric.”
“Got Shield Mastery to Adept 1,” Phil grinned, not bothering to point out that he preferred to be called Phil. They knew that perfectly well; that was why they were refusing to do it. “Gave me a new Shield Slam ability on fallen opponents.”
“That was savage, mate. Loved it, but it was truly savage.” The Archer walked past him, seeing which of his bolts, if any, were salvageable. He tugged one loose and looked at it critically. “McBone, did you really have to stab him right in the kidney like that? I was aiming for its eye, and it went right down its throat. Nasty.” He wiped the bolt on a cloth before returning it to his case.
“That’s what she said,” Meridian chuckled. “Seriously, though, those orc-things are getting downright nasty. About how much farther you think we’ve got until we get to this Antas place?”
“Another day, I’d say,” Phil shrugged. “Hopefully, we can find another one of those waystations like we did last night. When the sun falls…the road was pretty nuts last night.”
“That’s putting it a bit mildly,” Longfellow snorted. “I saw something with four arms ripped to pieces by something with four tentacles. Just, absolutely shredded it, it was beautiful and made me throw up a bit in my mouth at the same time. “
“Well, now there’s an image I’ll never unsee,” McBane grunted, smacking the archer’s shoulder. “You can just sing me to sleep tonight, now, can’t you?.”
“Yeah, no thanks,” Phil chuckled. “I’ve heard Longfellow sing; it’s another one of those things that’ll make you throw up in your mouth a little.”
“Hey, now,” the slim man protested. “I’ll have you both know that my mum told me I could have made it as a singer. You know, if I hadn’t been born with a voice that makes babies cry.”
Meridian snorted, and Phil grinned. Jeff, you are gonna love these guys, he thought exultantly. “Let’s get moving,” he smiled at them. “One more night, and tomorrow, we should meet up with Aranos. That’s when the fun really starts!”
Aranos crouched behind a low stone wall, staring at the massive fortification looming in the distance. The walls were blackened and weathered but still stood, proud and cruel, crouching over the High Road. Even from this distance, he could see tiny figures moving at the top of the walls and dark shapes circling in the air over it.
“That is the Citadel of Cendarta, Redeemer,” Saphielle was speaking quietly, crouched beside him. “It was once a proud fortress of our people but fell to the Darkness during the Feast, a victim of treachery rather than force of arms. Unlike
much of what was taken, it has not been left to ruin; Cendarta was rebuilt and stands sentinel over the High Roads, denying them to humans and elves alike. We shall have to cross beneath its gaze one way or another.”
“I think we can assume they’ll be watching for us,” he grimaced, staring at the flying creatures in the distance. “And if we’re spotted, those flying creatures will probably be able to catch us, even on the Roads.”
“You are likely correct, Oathbinder,” Geltheriel agreed. “Taking into account the considerable numbers of uruk patrols we have encountered, it is probable that the citadel is held by these creatures and their masters. In such a case, the winged creatures are almost certainly pouka – very large birds that can be ridden as mounts – meaning that even with the bonuses to our speed given by the Road, they could overtake us within hours if alerted to our presence.”
“Stealth it is, then,” he nodded. “Unless…any chance we could take the citadel?”
“One observes that anything is possible, Liberator,” Rhys chuckled in the sudden silence. Aranos looked around and saw the others staring at him silently in what he took to be disbelief.
After a moment, Geltheriel spoke softly. “As the Druid said, anything is possible, Oathbinder, but Cendarta is held strongly, likely even more strongly than Antas. It was designed with but one purpose: to defend and patrol the High Roads. Uruks would not be able to hold it alone; they must be in service to more powerful creatures, perhaps even an annablis warlord, a being that could destroy us as easily as we could a single bogez.”
“Or it could be held by nothing more powerful than an Evolved dabruk,” Rhys said quietly. “It should be possible to find out…”
Saphielle silenced the Druid with a glare and placed a hand on Aranos’ shoulder. “A day will come when Cendarta is freed, Redeemer, and it may be that we are instrumental in that. Yet, planning the next campaign when the first is not complete will spell disaster for both.”