by K. T. Hanna
“Formations,” Devlish barked out as the casters moved to back and the melee fighters fanned out around their respective tanks.
“Assist Rashlyn,” Murmur announced, knowing that the monk had the ability to peel these off Devlish easily enough. If nothing else, Rashlyn could always Feign Corpse if she pulled too many.
Murmur had already Mez’d four of the webspinners before they hit the ground. Dansyn was held multiples in thrall as well, and she could see the Exodus and the Spiral bard doing the same. It still left a whole heap of them needing to be cut down.
“Dev, keep their attention, let Rash peel them off AoE style.” Murmur glanced at the ones she had frozen and refreshed it. “I’m stunning, Dan. Keep an AoE Mez up to cover mine.”
The bard nodded, and she swore she could see a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was probably as excited as she was.
“AoE attacks are cleared,” Devlish announced as he taunted like his life depended on it. “Aim for the openings in their chitin. Between the segments of their armor. Accuracy and combined attacks are key.”
These were level fifty raid mobs. Orange in con, with carapaces as hard as nails. Murmur started her attack with a blanket of Veto. That in place, she began her cycle of stuns. As long as she kept her timing rhythm, she’d be able to cast Veto again every time it needed to be up. But given her own level and the level of the Ciricians, she was worried about the resists they’d get.
Of course, she needn’t have. The other two bards were good at their jobs. They threw out AoE stuns whenever their cast timers were available. While she might not have another enchanter along with her, at least bards had several of the same tools available to them. It helped alleviate the amount of Ciricians who thought Murmur made a really good punching bag.
Snowy jumped into the fray but never strayed far from Murmur, as if he was guarding her back. She understood his concern because she could still feel that cold intensity that emanated from Jirald. She couldn’t let it distract her even if it felt like his eyes never left her, even while they were engaged in combat.
“These webspinners are pure trash,” Havoc muttered next to her, and she noticed that his eyes seemed darker. Everything about him leaked a type of danger that she’d not noticed before. He glanced sideways at her. “Don’t worry about it. I’m okay. The headset reboot sort of…anyway. Later.”
Murmur hadn’t lost her rhythm, but she did feel the seed of guilt begin to sprout as she watched her friend. She hadn’t even given him a second thought, despite knowing that he’d also had a modified headset. All she’d thought about was Sinister, and what her powers could do, and how she could make everyone feel better, make the game easier on them. Havoc hadn’t been in her thoughts. They’d definitely talk later.
As soon as these blasted Ciricians were demolished.
A scream rang out as one of the not-stunned creatures suddenly lashed out at a mage who’d gotten far too close to the melee fighters. Jinna’s stun came a split second too late, and the creature was taken down by Rash and the rest of the fighters in the next few moments.
Masha healed up the mage, admonishing in that quietly confident voice that they should make sure they were all sticking to their positions. The mage’s face was ashen, and his servant nod let Murmur know he’d not make that mistake again. Casters and healers back, melee forward. Ranged back. Murmur knew Masha was watching her, because technically she was also a caster, but she had to be in the center of her AoE stuns or else they were pretty useless.
She’d explain things to him later. Right now she just wished they did have a second damned enchanter in the group.
Finally, the Cirician webspinners were dead, their segmented bodies scattered all over the floor around them. And still, it only filled up about a third of the hall. Murmur glanced up, unable to make out if there were any more hiding in the shadows of the ceiling. It wouldn’t surprise her. But they’d just gone through about two hundred of them. She’d even missed her ding.
“Grats, Mur.” Masha nodded at her. “Must have been really close.”
“Just a sliver.” She smiled tightly. “Heal up, repair if necessary. Get ready to move in. Keep your eyes peeled.”
The cleric still stood to her side, a thoughtful look on his face. “You know as well as I do that there’s something very boss-like about that dais, don’t you?”
Murmur shrugged. He had a good point. There was something especially boss-like about the whole room. Only she wasn’t sure anything would appear on the dais, but more likely would replace it.
She watched as Risk patted Devlish’s shoulder. “That was some fine tanking there. Couldn’t have done much better myself.” His bravado eclipsed the respect that colored his words, like Dev in his element had nothing on him. She didn’t think he meant it, but he was putting on a show for someone; she just wasn’t sure who yet.
Devlish grinned. “Gotta do what I’ve gotta do, always aiming to improve.” He winked at Risk, and the two of them laughed, if a little combatively. Murmur’s gaze followed them, hoping this meant they could work together. It was exhausting worrying about how to balance three guilds who mostly hated each other.
Somnia Online
Continent of Tarishna - Vahrir Fortress, Dungeon Version 22.248, Triggered by Murmur of Fable.
Late Day Twenty-Five
Jirald wasn’t quite sure what to make of this guild alliance. While it made sense, he still had to put up with her. Maybe there would be a chance to steal the getashi he knew she had to have and, in the process, he could leave a gift in her back.
No, grouping up with Fable would not have been his first choice, and he was determined to make the most of it…for himself.
Even one encounter into the raid, he was finding it almost impossible to restrain himself. Not being able to repay Murmur for the deleveling she’d dished out to him so many weeks ago. She was right there, just yards away from him. Her pale skin sparkled, and her tattoos reached as far as the eye could see on her body.
Why hadn’t he had that option at customization? He wanted it. He wanted everything she had.
Murmur had changed, and Jirald was okay with that. More strength to defeat, more power to absorb. He eyed his blades and thought of Sidius’s reaction to them. His gaze had hardened, and he’d refused to give Jirald any more information about the shards’ whereabouts or uses. It mattered little, considering that Jirald wasn’t stupid. He’d surmised which monsters had the getashi, and all he had to do was get them, ingest them, and gain power.
Power he could crush everything in-game with. And everyone.
When this raid was all over, and Murmur least expected it, he’d take the ones she had stored with her, and the ones that had changed her own system. He just wasn’t sure how to go about extracting what it was that had adjusted her character’s appearance, but he was sure he’d figure it out.
All he had to do was bide his time, but it was a lot easier to make that decision than to carry it out. His fingernails would be non-existent before the time was right.
“Nice job,” Ishwa said, too close for comfort.
Jirald moved away a step. “It wasn’t a difficult fight. We fought some trash mobs. Wait until we come across something worthwhile.”
Ishwa paused, and made no secret of looking the rogue up and down as if assessing him. “You might be strong, you might do some of the best DPS in the game. But you really are a bit of a dick, you know that?”
Jirald blinked at the gnome, his anger rising in his throat like bile needing to get out. “Petty fuck.” He practically spat the words out.
To his surprise, Ishwa laughed. “Oh no, son. That wasn’t petty at all. Trust me, if you try to push my wee gnome buttons again, I’ll show you what petty is. I’m saying this as a guild mate, because we’re definitely not friends. You might want to stop this superiority shit, before you end up alone, beaten up by s
omeone you shouldn’t have mouthed off to. It’s not a threat—it’s just the way of the world.”
The gnome turned and walked away, making Jirald wish he could just sever the little shit’s head from his body. Murmur first, then Ishwa. His shit list was growing. He clamped down on the feeling of rage and focused instead on his altered quest.
Finish all three dungeons and gain the final six keys.
Unlock what is hidden and rule the world.
He smiled, excited to get started. The fact that the world was Somnia just made everything better. Though he wasn’t certain how they’d get two keys per dungeon, he’d figure that out when the first one was completed. Taking a deep breath, he focused on preparation for battle, steering his thoughts away from ripping through his nemesis with knives so sharp they made steel look like butter.
The raid began to move out, and he followed the rest of it, trailing behind, keeping his eyes firmly trained on the back of Murmur’s head. He would bide his time for everyone, and when everything clicked, he’d finally be able to exact revenge for always underestimating him.
But right now, he was focused on the dungeon, because there, in the middle of the floor where that dais had been, something was pushing up in the middle of it. First a head popped through.
It was large and insect-like with sharp claws for appendages.
It looked just like those other Cirician creatures had before, only larger. Which meant more stabbing through the gap in the plates at just the right time. At least he wouldn’t be bored while he waited to execute his plans.
You dare enter the home of the Cirician—the guardians of Vahrir!
The voice boomed out across the vast hall, echoing in its fierceness and made the entire raid stop short. Murmur looked around, and Devilish shrugged as if he was simply resigned to having to talk to NPCs before anything ever got fought.
She cracked a smile and approached the steep stairs that led up to the top. “I, Murmur of the guild Fable, am here to discover the secrets of Vahrir.”
She hoped she was saying the right words. No one else seemed to have a quest for this dungeon, so she’d simply spoken up because there might be a chance that this would trigger one. Winging it wasn’t her favorite form of battle, but at least she knew she wouldn’t be the one starting the fight.
“Discover secrets, you say?” The massive bug-like creature paused and looked at, or perhaps through, Murmur. “You’ve already killed my children. Tell me why I should not slaughter your party.”
Murmur took a breath, frustrated at how these dungeons sometimes worked. “They attacked us first, and I could not soothe them.”
“I see.” The clicking of her strange mandibles sounded ferocious even from where Murmur stood so far below. This queen had to be huge given how large she still appeared from that distance. “Enchanter Murmur, there is not just the guild Fable here. Why do you seek to enter this domain with so many others?”
“They are our allies in this dungeon,” she responded, her voice clear and strong, speaking with a conviction she wasn’t entirely sure where she’d gotten it from. She could feel the irritation in the raid behind her. Not from her own guild members, but from Spiral and Exodus. Both groups wanted to kill the monsters and be done with the zone. They were barely holding themselves back. So she decided to take a gamble.
“We needed to band together in order to make sure that Somnia is protected as a whole.” She left her words there, having spoken softly enough that only a few of those around her and hopefully this Cirician queen could hear her.
The atmosphere around her changed, from one of suspicion to one tinged with mild hope. “I see, then.” The queen spoke softly, so much that Murmur wasn’t sure if she’d been meant to hear it.
She waited and turned to glare at the raiders behind her when some of them started to fidget with their weapons. Their thirst for combat was something she knew all too well, but being an enchanter with the ability to sense emotions and motivations had given her a different perspective. Now she understood why no one ever completed the same versions of the dungeons that Fable did. They were always in a rush to get to loot.
“Then I have a deal for you, leader of Fable.” The Cirician leaned down so that her head hung over the top step leading down from the dais platform. “Will you hear me out?”
Murmur gulped and nodded her head. “I will.”
“Your raiding party is free to enter this temple on three conditions. First: you do not kill any more of my children. Not in any form at all. While they will not aid you in battle, they will not fight you unless you attack them first. If you do attack us, this deal is null and void, for our trust will be broken. Second: there are infected Ciricians who became other than they had been not too long ago. I beseech that you put those children of mine out of their misery unless you can find a way to save them. And thirdly: please, rid this temple of the darkness that encroaches on us. We can barely move around now, lest we infect ourselves.”
Quest update:
Vahrir has been infected with a rampant virus of darkness and poison. Leave the true Ciricians in peace, but unless you can cure them, put the infected out of their misery. Free the temple from its curse.
“Gotta love a new quest,” Sinister mumbled, but Murmur could hear the contentment in her voice. Sin was always happiest when she had a pointed direction. And since the headset, it seemed her focus had improved.
“We accept.” Murmur bowed her head, but the Cirician queen stopped her before she could leave.
“First, a warning. You are responsible for those who are with you, even those who are not of your family, but more of your allies. Watch your back. Don’t let your guard down.”
Murmur shivered as the queen withdrew her head and vanished. She knew what the creature spoke about; in her gut, she was certain. Jirald might be playing nice, but they all knew he was just biding his time. She had the feeling he wasn’t the only one.
Silence fell over the room. Murmur could feel the unease behind her, like Spiral and Exodus didn’t understand what had just happened. Their impatience leaked through to her like fetid water, souring her mood with its stench.
“So. You’ve been winning these dungeons by avoiding conflict? That’s such a crock of shit!” Risk seemed to be barely holding his anger in.
Merlin laughed easily, trying to diffuse the situation. “It depends. Sometimes you can’t talk to them. Sometimes you get riddles. Other times we’ve had a bit of betrayal and manipulation involved in the quests they give us. Sure, we could go in and simply massacre whatever is in front of us. But…we’ve found this way much more rewarding, at least here in Somnia.”
“I didn’t realize there was so much diversity in the dungeons of this game.” Masha spoke quietly. “That must be why there are so many different possible versions available and why you can check what it is and who triggered it.”
“Still,” Risk snapped out. “We’re adventurers. Killing is so much more efficient.”
“Really?” Devlish raised an eyebrow, and when he continued, his voice held a decidedly challenging edge. “I mean, we’ve definitely got our share of rewards, and we’ve worked through all six precursor dungeons. So how is it more efficient?”
Risk held the lacerta’s gaze for a moment before looking away. He huffed out his response, his dissatisfaction echoing through Murmur’s nets. “Monsters are there to be killed. That’s how it’s always been done.”
Murmur shrugged, sending out a small wave of soothing through her nets. Diffusing the situation was paramount if they wanted to complete these dungeons. She didn’t have time for Risk to try and throw his weight around. “I’m not sure. I just know that sometimes listening is a really good skill. And that it’s definitely helped us.” A sense of urgency filled her, and Snowy whuffed into her hand, tugging at her fingertips. She nodded.
He was right; they didn’t have time to stan
d around discussing the nature of the dungeon randomization in Somnia.
“Don’t you regret not killing the mobs for all the loot they could drop?” Risk sounded legitimately incredulous.
Sinister laughed. “If you do what they ask you to do, then you complete multiple quests at a time. Our rewards have always been fantastic, so I feel like they boost our end of dungeon loot a little to compensate. Plus, we’ve got allies everywhere now.”
“Bonus,” Masha quipped, and Sinister grinned at him.
“Left or right, Mur?” Devlish asked, pausing so she could make a decision, and effectively ended the discussion.
“Left.” She knew they’d done little but delay an explosion of personalities, but she’d figure out what to do about that later. Her nets told her that left was the way they needed to go. The way with the most resistance, with the more difficult mobs, and with some of the answers she was seeking from Vahrir, and even from the whole of Somnia.
The halls of Vahrir reminded Murmur of those in Hightower. They stretched up and beyond where she could hope to see, into a darkness that seemed to swallow the building whole.
It made her feel vulnerable and cautious. She didn’t like it.
The shadows were all-encompassing, and the sconces further down only lit up once they’d crested the one before it. Luckily, the corridors were wide and allowed for two full groups to walk abreast if necessary. It still felt like a trap.
They’d passed several Cirician scouts, all of whom bowed to them and scurried out of their way, a nervous chittering fading into the distance.
“I’d rather be killing things,” Risk grumbled to no one in particular.
Murmur could tell that this lack of action sat uncomfortably with him. He was more a tank of action, not thought. Which was okay and had its place. Hell, in most game worlds it would always have its place. Thinking interrupted reaction time. Risk thrived on instinct. She had no doubt he’d be a great tank. If they encountered any huge walloping monsters, she’d swap Rash out and put him in. Rash was amazing when she could use her skills to her advantage, so if Mur could prevent her getting squished, she would.