by K. T. Hanna
How do you mean? The curiosity in the tone made it easy to forget what Somnia was.
I mean, he’s not acting like himself, he’s not being himself, and he’s treating me and others differently than normal. Murmur was a bit scared that nothing was wrong, and that he’d just had enough of her shit with her pushing emotions and taking away feelings and just wanted to be rid of her. Or maybe he was like this when overtired. Except that couldn’t be it because she’d raided with overtired Jinna way before this.
Let me check. I’ll need to run a few things. I’ll be discreet. Don’t worry. Be right back.
Murmur let her hand fall and scratched Snowy’s neck. He turned with his cold snout and nuzzled her hand. It was amazing what a comfort he was.
Sinister bumped into her side gently. “What are you thinking?”
“Probably too much. You know me. Never a dull moment.” Murmur half-joked, even though she was only half-paying attention.
Somnia Online
Continent of Curet: The Glacier Lakes Dungeon
Version 8.4282.5 - Triggered by Murmur of Fable
Early Day 31
Jirald kept an eye on the whole raid, most of the time. He’d found his ability to multitask had improved since absorbing so many of those shards into his avatar. With so much to regulate, and so much to keep an eye on, he was glad of the added focus.
When they stopped in front of the battleground of the Pivya, he paused, calling the others to him all the while wondering why on Earth there was a sign pointing the way down a clearly marked path they were meant to take, with an actual name for the area. There were too many things in this game that weren’t making complete sense to him. He doubted they’d make sense to anyone.
Jinna came, as did Risk and Masha. Such a small group, and yet they’d already planted the seeds in many of the others. Just a brief touch and a word, just a thought to chew on that might instill doubt in those they came across. Doubt in Murmur and her capabilities, doubt in Fable. Sure, it didn’t always work, he’d seen that already, but when it did, it took well.
He’d already managed to approach Murmur twice now, without even her wolf alerting her. It definitely felt powerful to out maneuver the enchanter. He grinned and let the others fall in around him.
“These are taking way too long. We aren’t children.” Risk’s tone held a defiance, and yet some begrudged respect. Jirald would have to take care of that. Couldn’t have the leader of another guild growing respect.
Jinna propped himself up against a well-placed rock and shrugged. “This is how they work. All the time. If you have patience we’ll get through it.” But even though his words sounded reasonable, Jinna’s glance at his raid leader was not. There was resentment in there, and some sort of sadness.
But Jirald could twist sadness; it was the easiest thing to morph it into bitterness. He’d have to test it, though, in order to be sure. “But of course. Their way is viable. After all, they’ve defeated everything else, right? All because of Murmur.”
Jinna’s gaze snapped to Jirald with a heat that surprised the other rogue. “All because of Devlish’s tanking you mean. Crowd control isn’t the be all and end all she’d like us to think it is.”
Which was precisely what Jirald wanted to hear.
“If she’d stayed a healer, it’d be a different story,” Masha mumbled. He was looking at his hands like he’d never seen them before and blinked far too much. What he’d said was too close to a compliment for Jirald’s liking. He couldn’t have that now. Not if he needed everyone in the raid to turn on her at the exact right moment. Not if Michael needed it…not if it wasn’t his job.
He approached the healer, the only person who’d ever really been his friend, and placed a hand on his shoulder again, squeezing gently and letting the infection pass through him. The anger ran along it, the discontent. “Maybe, but she’d probably still be this overbearing.”
For a moment a haze clouded Masha’s sight and he appeared lost, but then the anger came back full force as the virus hit his brain through the headset. “Maybe. Still, though. Let’s just get this dungeon cleared so we can move onto the next step.”
Jirald smiled as the others moved away to take their stations. He pushed at his hair, trying to banish the strange sensation that floated around his mind for the last few minutes. It was all a price he was willing to pay. Still, though, he’d pushed them this far, and he’d be able to push them further. That way Murmur would be in the exact right place, vulnerable and weak, by the time they reached their final destination.
Location Redacted
Brainwave Focus Study Laboratory
Subdivision of Military Brainwave Research Institution
Somnia Online - Location Unknown - First Login Continued
Day Thirty-One
Fingering the pass Davenport had given him, David frowned at Staven, the guard who’d come with him. “So we should just let ourselves into his house?”
Staven shrugged broad shoulders. His short black hair was only lightly peppered with greys, putting him close to forty if David were to guess. “It’s what they said at the front desk. That they were under orders to give us access to all the work James had done. Which apparently is mostly in his home.” The burly body guard shrugged again, and David was just glad the man didn’t wear sunglasses in the dim light.
From talking to the front desk people, David got the impression that someone had arranged for them to have this access. If he was correct in his assumption, then Davenport would have some explaining to do once he got back.
Staven entered first, manned the door, and waited until David entered before he closed it, locking it from the inside. He paused, as if he wasn’t sure if he should have done that yet, but he turned toward David and nodded. “We’re good to look around. I can take down here, if you want to take the upper level.”
“Sure,” David responded with a brief smile. It was an actual offer. Staven had been nothing but polite and easy to talk to. David’s favorite kind of person. They always made him feel less awkward. David’s feet fell softly against the carpeted floors, making no noise at all. He frowned. Didn’t James know that carpet simply held in all the dander? Still, that wasn’t what he should be thinking about. He should be contemplating how to explain his presence in the flat to the domicile’s owner. Hi, I’m your rival’s husband, and I just wanted to check on you to make sure you’re not dead.
It wasn’t exactly a solid reason to be in someone’s apartment. Then again, they’d received access from what he extrapolated to be the true owners, so maybe they were fine.
The apartment itself was sparse, definitely bacheloresque, a plain black leather couch, small kitchen, tiny table and chairs for two. The loft that hung over it was accessed by a small spiral staircase to the rear of the apartment. If his work was anything to go by, then James rarely spent actual time in his home.
Taking a deep breath and leaving Staven to his own devices below, David began to climb the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t wake the gamer up. Maybe he’d just fallen asleep wearing the headset. But usually sleep would cause the headset to recognize the patterns and boot the player out. That had been part of Wren’s problem. Her brain waves didn’t show as sleep.
Finally cresting the top, the entire area took him by surprise. It wasn’t just a small bedroom, but the size of most of the area downstairs. There were computers set up with differing headsets attached to each one, many of them monitoring what appeared to be tests. That he was conducting such research at his own home was sort of enviable, yet very dangerous if, like now, you’d dived into a game and couldn’t get back out.
Virtual reality wasn’t without downfalls and danger. There had been people whose brains were literally fried with incorrectly manufactured equipment. Or the people lost because they spent too much time inside and lost their link to reality.
Just as David feared and suspected, James was in his chair reclined, with his head lolling to the side. The lights on the headgear blinked fu
riously, indicating that his mind was still occupied, but that its player wasn’t aware of the outside world. He had flashbacks of Wren in a similar position. Except she’d been tugged into it almost immediately on character assessment, and they hadn’t been able to right the situation.
James, however, was in the game world, which meant they didn’t have to create a whole extra virtual environment for him because it already existed. Instead, they’d need to make him comfortable and see if they could fish him out. They needed a pod.
Sometimes he wished his wife were prone to being incorrect. But it was true. David even touched James on the shoulder. Not only did the man not register the contact, but he didn’t even flinch. Like his body wasn’t there either, just this strange husk of meat left out to house his brain.
David took a moment to move around the whole set up. The bed was a converted sofa if he was correct, and in front of that sofa were three monitors all showing different readings, including reaction times, brain wave monitoring, realistic reactions to pain, and much more. He could get carried away trying to figure out exactly what it was James was doing, but there wasn’t time right now.
David pressed his finger against his ear and directed his AU to call Davenport. When the older man picked up David wasted little time filling him in. “She was right. We need a pod, preferably yesterday. I wouldn’t advise moving him either. He’s otherwise unresponsive.”
Murmur stood in front of the raid with Devlish, her feet firmly planted in the sand of the lake bed, eyeing over the boss that just stood down a ways in its designated area. Stone columns rose in a large circumference around its seat in the middle of what might have once been an underwater temple. There was enough stone debris around it to signify a cave-in.
“Maybe it has a horn ray,” Sinister offered. Upon receiving an incredulous look from Veranol, she put her hands on her hips. “Hey, the hippo had a horn too, but he didn’t use it for anything. And his wasn’t glowing. It stands to reason, if its glowing, then it’s probably got a function.”
Veranol blinked. “That’s actually a really good observation.”
Sinister nodded with a harrumph. “Not just a pretty face, you know,” she grumbled out.
Murmur squeezed her hand and smiled. “With that tail, I’d also be willing to be it has, like, a…tail attack. Storm, or Whirl Tail or something.”
“Well, that’s two potentials.” Devlish shook his head. “Gotta love killing things first, but sometimes I wish we just knew abilities ahead of time. I kind of got used to that whole riddle solving thing. Let’s hope there isn’t much else besides those two abilities.”
“It’s a boss, Dev,” Veranol said before moving away to get the healers on track. Devlish chuckled in response and Murmur enjoyed the pristine moment of just knowing her friends.
After the amount of wipes they’d had with Hippo, the raid was well-oiled and ready to go. Devlish motioned forward with his axe and led the charge. Melee first and with him, with the ranged DPS close behind. Healers and support classes made up the bulk of the rear.
Murmur couldn’t help but notice the constant looks Jinna shot her way but didn’t have time to concentrate on that. Even though it made her feel uneasy, she’d just keep up her own shielding and hope Snowy gave her enough forewarning.
Pivya was an odd sort of seahorse thing. With the horn on its head and its more mermaid-like tail, it was a very strange mash-up of creature. It balanced in the middle of its platform, for all appearances like it didn’t have a care in the lake.
Devlish chose that moment to break the serenity and roared at Pivya. It tossed its head back, screaming in an earsplitting sound. Murmur shook her head, trying to clear her mind of it.
“Resistant to ice!” Ishwa yelled out over the raid. Murmur could see all the casters, all the melee, and all of the ranged DPS adjusting rotations as soon as the information was out.
“Resistant to water,” Etriad yelled out immediately thereafter. Not that it was surprising, given the current dungeon, but they had to make sure they’d confirmed what it was they could throw at the target.
Beastial backed out, groaning next to Murmur before announcing his findings raid-wide. “Non-reinforced melee attacks glance off. Return some of the damage you would have inflicted. Don’t allow auto-attack to hit.”
More adjustments raid-wide. The fluid way with which all of the players in this raid group made alterations to their spell lineups was quite beautiful.
“Mental afflictions magnified.” Murmur announced her own findings a split second before Ishwa issued his next.
The gnome coughed before echoing her. “Earth damage is amplified.”
Shortly thereafter, Merlin yelled out, “Immune to fire.”
All in all, they’d accomplished that inside of two percent. It was vital to know what any boss was weak against, just like in any fight; weaknesses had to be exploited to do the most damage possible.
With their spells and abilities sorted, Murmur still wasn’t quite ready for ninety-five percent to hit. Pivya pulled its neck back and released that high-pitched squeal again, like a horse letting out its disapproval a few octaves higher and moments longer than usual.
And then its horn glowed and spouted a huge fountain of green from it. Like an avalanche of radioactive waste, it poured over them all, hitting all of them with the slimy excrement of industry.
You have been hit by Poison Fountain.
You have taken 263 points of damage, recurring for 7 seconds.
HoTs hit all of them but would need to be applied sooner than later for next time. Several raid members came perilously close to bottoming out their hit points, needing to consume health potions to make sure they didn’t die.
“That’s interruptible,” Karn announced over the raid, and Murmur was immediately certain that Karn was the only one who’d attempted to stop the incoming spell. Another thing she’d have to talk to Jinna and Jirald about.
Recovering from the Poison Fountain, the raid laid into Pivya, making its health drop steadily. “Karn on interrupts,” Murmur called out as ninety percent approached. Odds were good that the Poison Fountain would hit every five percent. If an ability was going to show up only five percent in, she was willing to bet it was there to stay.
Low and behold, the creature began casting its spell, which was promptly interrupted by Karn.
Poison Fountain has been interrupted.
The words floated over the entire raid, which made Murmur frown. That definitely wasn’t the norm for any ability. They’d certainly never experienced it before. Her gut instinct was that it would herald something else, and she felt wary and a strange sense of foreboding. Like her sensing nets were trying to tell her something.
Two and a half percent later, she found out what.
The long creature began to writhe. Its mouth opened wide, letting out another one of those piercing squeals. It lifted its tail and the body began to convulse and twirl, whirling around, creating a massive whirlpool that formed a shield over it and paused all incoming damage for those few seconds.
Then the whirling mass exploded out from its center, damaging anyone in its way.
Bodywhirl has been released in place of Poison Fountain.
Bodywhirl hits you for 622 damage.
Murmur grimaced as more than half of her hit points vanished. Notifications shot across her vision as some of the raid weren’t so lucky.
Beastial has died. Veranol has died. Cardishan has died. Ivinel has died.
Okay, that wasn’t the best result. Murmur called over the raid chat as the rest of the raid healed up. “Rez Veranol, Beastial. Veranol, rez Ivinel.” The witch was just going to have to wait.
Back in business within those two percent, Murmur messaged Karn to hold off on interrupts for now. Considering how it appeared that they’d just get the Bodywhirl if they interrupted the damned Fountain, then it might just be better to take the Fountain hit. HoTs seemed to clean that up fairly well, especially if the raid was HoTed in a
dvance.
Eighty-five percent passed with little to-do. Damage output was up nicely, but Murmur knew she couldn’t take a moment to relax, not yet. They weren’t even a quarter of the way through the fight. Two abilities weren’t enough, not for a boss like this. She needed to stop this wishful thinking thing. Its eyes glanced back and forth like it was waiting for something. As eighty percent neared, Murmur made sure Karn didn’t interrupt the spell again.
But even as she made that decision something nagged in the back of her mind.
As eighty percent hit, its horn began to glow again, just like it usually did for the prelude to its Poison Fountain, but at the same time, its tail began to lash back and forth, creating furious waves about it. And even as the Fountain began to fall over them, a massive wave rolled out from the tail end of Pivya, smacking the front lines with so much damage that some of them fell instantly.
Beastial has died
Veranol has died
Devlish has died
Risk has died
Rashlyn has died
Jinna has died
Jirald has died
Karn has died
You have been hit by Poison Fountain for 218 points of damage recurring for the next 7 seconds.
Pivya has hit you with Tail Whip for 532 damage.
Even with the HoTs active, they still lost a few more raid members, twelve in total. There was no way they were going to make it further without that. But Murmur thought they should have enough of a combat log for her to comb through and come up with a strategy, or at least the timing they needed to get further.
“Wipe it!” she called out, easily falling back into her routine of old when she had to call these damn things all the time.
Still, they’d come a decent way so far. Now if only the DoT would kill her faster.
Murmur.
The enchanter was eyeballs deep in the combat logs for Pivya. Trying to make sure she understood what she thought she did. No mean feat.