by Kyle Johnson
“Hell, I’m tempted to kiss you, and damn the wrath of blue-hair,” Longfellow chuckled, clicking the band around his forearm. “I can shoot magical bolts with this thing. Not Enchanted ones; they’re made of actual magic. Bloody brilliant, this thing is.”
“I am once more amazed by your abilities in Enchanting, Liberator,” Saphielle observed, holding up the pin he’d given her. “It also appears that you have placed greater bonuses on mine than on any others except your Avowed. I find that very appropriate.”
Aranos was about to explain that it had been random, but he checked himself at the last minute. “I’m glad you like it.”
Geltheriel, though, was staring at her ring, her face awed. “A bonus of 30 to each Physical Stat? Doubling my Stealth Skill? Oathbinder, this is an item of immense value. Should you not gift it to Lorsan for sale? It would bring our House…”
“It’s for you,” Aranos cut her off. “It’ll keep you safe and make you a better Shadedancer. I made it with you specifically in mind.” The woman nodded and hesitantly slipped the ring on her finger.
“While one cannot help but appreciate such gifts,” Rhys observed wryly, sliding the silver band onto his forehead, “and certainly this band grants me significant benefits, I wonder about the Spells you have created. Often, it seems, these have come upon us unawares, surprising us in the midst of combat. Not that I would complain, of course.”
“I believe you misspoke, Druid,” Geltheriel said calmly, her eyes sparkling. “I believe you meant, ‘not that I will cease complaining’. No matter, all understood your meaning.”
“Pretty sure she called you a whiner, Druid,” Meridian snorted.
“I never whine, of course,” the man replied in an unruffled voice. “I merely make observations about how things near the Liberator seem to be constantly going wrong. If there are many such observations to be made, I am unsure how that is my fault.”
Phil laughed at that. “They seem to know you, Aranos. So, what about these new Spells?”
“As I said, they’re anti-undead,” Aranos explained, providing a quick overview of his new Spells. “The thing is, I can’t cast them very often; I don’t have a lot of this new mana aspect, and it drains my Wisdom if I overdo it. So, I can maybe cast Radiance twice or Bolt ten times. Or, I suppose, a combination of the two. Then I have to wait an hour to do it again.”
“Then these Spells should certainly be saved for a time of need,” Saphielle spoke. “It will do us little good for you to deplete their usefulness and then discover that a greater foe awaits.”
“That’s true, but I also have to level them up, so I do have to use them. I’ll just have to be careful, is all, and never use more than five Restorative Bolts or one Radiance of Life per hour. That will leave me the option to use five more Bolts or one more Radiance if need be, depending on what kind of threat we’re facing.”
Longfellow gazed curiously at Aranos. “Not that I’m complaining, but did you have that worked out already, or are you really that good at analysis?”
Aranos flushed slightly. “I just figured that out, if that’s what you mean, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. I mean, it’s the mantra of spellcasters: always leave some in reserve, just in case. Once you’ve tossed that last heal or fireball, you’re basically useless. I try to stay above 50% SP at all times, if I can, and this is just kind of an extension of that.”
“So, just good at analysis,” Longfellow nodded. “It doesn’t bother me, mind you. Having a Party Leader that thinks fast on their feet is better than one that takes five minutes just to decide which foot their boot goes on, no question.”
“First of all, it only took me three minutes,” Phil objected. “Second of all, I’m really more of a flip-flop guy. Real shoes are hard.”
Geltheriel snorted. “While I do not know what a ‘flip-flop’ is and assume it is something revolting by the sound, it is good to know that Travelers are capable of trading insults. My Oathbinder is most excellent at receiving them but struggles beyond that point. I had thought it was a limitation of the race, in all honesty.”
“Nope, he’s always been like that,” Phil grinned. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s got plenty of wit. It just takes him a day or so to get there.”
“Speaking of days,” Aranos interrupted, rolling his eyes. “We should probably figure out what we’re doing tomorrow.”
At his words, the players shared odd glances. “I don’t know what you’re planning,” Meridian said slowly, “but I’m gonna call some friends, maybe get some takeout and watch some TV. There’s no Chinese food in this world whatsoever, did you know that? Totally unfair.”
Aranos blinked in surprise, and Phil put his hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “Did you forget that today is day 6, dude? We log out tomorrow.”
“I…I totally forgot, yeah,” he nodded. “Okay, so you guys will be out, no problem. My party and I will do some exploring and see what sort of creatures we’ve got around here.”
“Wait, aren’t you logging out, too?” Longfellow asked. “If not, how are you getting out of it?”
“I’m part of a special group that’s doing deeper dives,” the Sorcerer lied, unable to explain the deal Singularity’s founder and the company’s CEO had made with him. “I’m going out just long enough to get through medical and then coming right back in.”
“Is that what Newsome wanted to talk to you about last time?” Phil asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Aranos nodded. “I’m not really supposed to be talking about it, though, if that’s okay.” The others gave him strange looks indeed but let the matter drop.
“So, you will be returning to your world for some time tomorrow?” Geltheriel asked. “You should leave your training crystals, then; we will make use of them while you are gone.”
“In the meantime,” Phil grinned, “let us tell you about our trip here, and you can tell us how yours was probably way cooler…”
Martina dodged the claws of the twisted, deformed-looking undead and smashed the steel head of her small mace into its gaping mouth. The weapon was basically a flanged, steel ball attached to a wooden shaft, and while it was simple, it was brutally effective at crushing bone, even through armor. It was equally effective at tearing loose an undead monster’s lower jaw; at least, that’s what she guessed from how the bottom half of the creature’s mouth flew free from its skull. Her follow-up attack smashed the skull like a melon and dropped the creature to the ground, freeing her to snatch up her bow and resume sending arrows into the chests and eyes of the swarming undead.
Hector charged past her, his heavy axe severing limbs and heads with equal ease, followed by the ever-silent Monetta. The black-clad rogue’s blades flashed as she slashed and cut through the undead, her eyes strangely dull and her expression utterly disinterested. Still, despite their assault, the press of undead continued, and Martina knew that they wouldn’t be able to hold the creatures without more help.
“We need some summons, Liam!” she shouted at the caster, who was hurling bolts of black fire and crimson lightning at the onrushing creatures. “A second tank to help Hector!”
Liam seemed to sigh. “Yes, I suppose we do,” he said heavily. “We aren’t where we need to be, yet. Fine, here you go.” The man muttered an incantation, and a creature that looked like an armor-plated gorilla appeared. Liam gestured to the creature. “Go, help them as you can.” The gorilla raced off toward the undead, crashing into them and tearing with its claws and fangs.
Martina recognized the summons; it was one of the earliest ones they’d gotten for Liam, which meant it was one of the weakest. Still, it was better than nothing, which was about as much help as Liam had been lately. Sure, his magic created wards that stopped wandering monsters from seeing the party while they rested, but ever since Martina and Hector had started refusing to help him gather more summons, he’d also stopped casting more than his weakest Spells in combat.
Now that they were finally close to Antas, though, it looked like
the caster was relenting. As Martina loosed another arrow, she saw a wave of green-tinged flames wash over a section of undead, roasting their rotted flesh and cracking their decayed bones. The gorilla leaped upon the weakened creatures, ripping and tearing, and soon that group was nothing but a pile of rancid meat and crushed bone.
With the summon’s help, the party began to move forward, no longer being pushed back by the stooped, long-armed monsters. Martina fired more rapidly, not trying to take the creatures out with a single, perfect shot but just slowing them enough for Hector and Monetta to finish them. A minute or so later, the last of the beasts fell, and silence descended over the clearing.
Martina unstrung her bow and stashed it in her pack – the game actually punished you for keeping the thing strung too long with penalties to Attack and damage – but Liam stared at the others, muttering under his breath. The woman sighed and walked over to the caster. Liam had become more erratic as they got nearer to their goal, and she was secretly wondering if he was going quietly insane.
“Is something wrong?” she asked him softly, not really wanting to hear the answer. At first, she’d found Liam’s confidence and charm rather appealing, but as time had passed, she’d been able to see beneath that façade. The real Liam was driven, almost obsessive, and had a deep, hidden well of anger. It didn’t show often, but it was pretty terrifying when it did.
“That was an ambush,” the caster muttered, his voice tinged with irritation.
“Strange how we guessed that, already,” Hector snorted as the others approached. “Might have been how fifteen of those things came howling out of the woods to attack us.”
“You don’t understand,” Liam snapped. “How did they set an ambush for us?”
“We weren’t moving in Stealth or anything, and every time I try to scout ahead, you throw a tantrum,” Martina pointed out. Ever since talking to Hector, she’d found it easier to ignore the nagging voices in her head. “It wouldn’t have been hard for them to set something up.”
“I don’t want you scouting ahead because I’ve been hiding us magically,” the Summoner answered acerbically. “Because I’ve been doing that, they shouldn’t have been able to find us.”
Martina shrugged; magic wasn’t her thing. “I don’t know how your Spell works, so I can’t say, Liam. I’ll bet, though, that if you can hide us magically, someone else can see through your disguise with even more magic.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed, and he began weaving his hands in a Spell. Martina stepped back, her hand going to the mace at her belt, and Hector hefted his axe. Monetta shifted closer to Liam, her eyes strangely alight, but the caster shook his head dismissively.
“Don’t be absurd. I’m not going to attack you. We still need one another, after all. I’m just checking something.” The man’s eyes glowed violet briefly as the Spell finished, and he shook his head in seeming disgust.
“We’ve been marked with a Spell. It’s radiating our location right now.”
“Which means we’ll be running into more of these ambushes the entire way,” Hector pointed out.
“Yes, of course that’s what it means. The question is…”
“The question,” Martina interrupted quietly, “is can you do anything about it? Can you remove the marker Spell or mask our location from it somehow? You’re our caster; this is up to you to fix.”
“I don’t know. I suppose I could, but why would I waste…”
“Because we aren’t moving any closer to the city until you do,” she said firmly. “It would be suicide, and we’d lose more time and XP in respawns than we’d gain. If you can’t fix it – and maybe figure out how it happened in the first place – then you and Monetta can go assault the city yourselves. Hector and I will level in the forest here for a while and then head back to the waystation to wait for you to respawn. Unless, of course, you use your precious summons, but I think you’ll run out of them at some point, don’t you?”
Liam’s eyes flashed, and for a moment, Martina saw not only anger, but a deep, burning hatred within them. At this point, she didn’t care; she’d given up on the idea of taking the city once she saw how many undead there were just in the forest. They’d need an army to take the whole city; either that, or they’d have to sneak in, find whatever boss creature was in charge, and kill it; she’d once thought that maybe that was what Liam was holding back his summons for, but now she was certain that the Summoner hadn’t ever been interested in taking the city. He had some other goal, and Martina was just hoping that she and Hector would be able to get clear of the man before he realized it.
Liam glared at her for a moment before the mask slipped back over his eyes, and he smiled charmingly. “Sorry, you’re right, Party Leader. That’s my job. I was just upset that something slipped past me, is all.” He sighed. “It’ll take me a few minutes to disjoin the Spells on us, if that’s okay.”
“That’s fine,” she nodded. “Do you have any ideas how we can avoid the same thing happening again? I don’t think we can assume that there was just one trap to locate us, after all.”
“I think my Mana Sight will let me spot any other traps. I simply hadn’t been using it, an oversight on my part. It’s not a difficult Spell to cast and doesn’t cost much to maintain. I should be able to guide us safely through the forest.”
“Then let’s get us de-marked so we can get moving again,” she nodded. “We need to find a safe place for tonight, since log-out is tomorrow. We don’t want to log back in and find our camp overrun with undead.”
“Oh, right, log-out,” Liam sighed. “I’d forgotten about that. Okay, let me get to work on this.” The caster sat down, his face a mask of concentration, and Martina turned back to Hector, motioning that they should give Liam some room to work.
“That’s my girl,” the big man grinned at her once they were out of the caster’s earshot. “You got a plan for how we’re gonna make this happen, though?”
“Yeah, I think I’ve got an idea,” she nodded. “Here’s what we’ll do…”
Settled in the center of the clearing, Liam sat, concentrating not on his Spell – that would take a minute to cast at the most – but on the words the others were muttering that they thought he couldn’t hear. He kept his face carefully impassive, but his mind was filled with silent glee. The pair’s plans weren’t exactly what he’d been hoping for, but they would do. Only Liam really knew what awaited them in Antas, and only he knew the power that lay dormant there. Those two had a part to play, and their petty little plans for betrayal wouldn’t interfere.
In fact, Liam was sort of counting on them.
Chapter 11
“McBane, back!” Aranos shouted. The Rogue hesitated for but a brief second before jumping back, but in that instant, the nurhuin struck. McBane was able to escape most of the damage, but the creature’s shadowy claws slid glancingly along his left shoulder. The insubstantial attack passed through the man’s stiffened leather armor with ease, and McBane hissed and stumbled as the touch drained a point of his Strength. Still, he struck back, his light-enhanced blades cutting deeply into the creature instead of simply passing through it like smoke. The 7’ tall shadow monster howled in pain and flowed away from the attack, retreating to the edge of the area bathed in Aranos’ Radiance of Life Spell.
Saphielle shouted and regained the focus of the half-dozen undead still facing the party. The tall, blue-skinned draegs rushed toward her, the aura of cold emanating from them slowing her movements and making it harder for her to block and dodge. Fortunately, her Enchanted armor and shield were still effective against the immaterial nurhuins, so although her movements were slowed, she wasn’t also fighting with drained Strength the way McBane was.
Rhys and Longfellow held back, the Druid using his ranged heals on Saphielle – these weren’t as effective as his touch-based ones, but using them didn’t expose him to the draeg’s aura of cold – while the Archer alternated firing flaming bolts at the draegs and mana bolts at the nurhuins. The mouthless d
raegs seemed to feed on body heat, but magical fire did greater damage to them and temporarily lowered their deadly aura. The nurhuins were composed of nothing but gathered darkness and ignored all elemental damage, but they were susceptible to unaspected mana and light-based attacks.
Aranos ignored most of this beyond relying on his Battlesense to track the handful of incorporeal nurhuins. The creatures could move along the ground like normal shadows, hidden beneath the scrub grass and thorny foliage, and tended to appear unexpectedly near the melee attackers. Saphielle’s armor shed their assaults, but McBane had lost several points of Str before Aranos began calling out the creatures’ attacks.
The Sorcerer’s main focus, though, was on the misty, indistinct form at the rear of the undead, one that was almost identical to the creature he’d driven off when his party had rescued Phil and the others. The creature was some type of undead none of them recognized, meaning it was relatively rare, and while it didn’t attack, it was a formidable wielder of void and death magic. He’d had to counter its attempts to weaken and paralyze both McBane and Saphielle, and the black, void-based lightning Spell it used seemed especially effective against the heavily armored Bright Avenger. Aranos could damage it with a modified Radiant Blast, hitting it with a beam of light mana that burned it, but none of his elemental Spells affected it in the slightest.
The Void Mage – which was what Aranos had taken to calling these things, since none of them were capable of Inspecting the creatures – raised another inky, black barrier that seemed a combination of void and air mana in Aranos’ senses but wasn’t entwined to create vacuum. It was opaque enough to resist his light attacks and solid enough to block elemental damage. It fell quickly to a dual Light and Earth Barrage, though, as Aranos used the mana types most opposed to those comprising the shield to chew through it and into the creature behind it. The Void Mage ignored the shards of stone zipping through its amorphous, gray form, but it recoiled from the explosions of light.