by K. T. Hanna
And Belius got the feeling that if he didn’t figure out how to reverse it, everything else he’d done would be for naught.
The roaring of the crowd drowned out the initial shrieks and growls as both Snowy and the Martimight clashed in the center of the arena.
Martimight’s legs were more birdlike than Murmur had realized, and his claws resembled one of the only survivors of the dinosaur heritage, the cassowary. She was quite certain it could gut Snowy if her wolf wasn’t careful. But he would be careful, because he was hers, because she’d lent him her power.
Even as she thought those words, Snowy grew, his back easily in line with her shoulders now if she were to test it. His glowing eyes cast a wave of light energy around them all, a protective barrier for himself and for his allies.
If she was correct, and she knew she was, it would level the hit points into a shared pool and percentage divide any damage or healing given. There was no way her wolf was going to die. Not today, not any day.
None of them would. She’d make certain of that. There was no rush of emotion to fuel her decision, simply a cold and calculated sensation that lauded her ability to make decisions. If anything, it felt good and peaceful and so uncomplicated. So powerful.
Snowy’s fur rippled in the cold wind as it swept through the arena, his focus solely concentrated on the Martimight in front of him. His eyes glowed with that intense fiery blue, and his teeth were now the size of Murmur’s hands, snapping viciously in warning.
He darted in at his opponent’s heels, executing a vicious bite in the process. His speed meant that most of the arena didn’t catch his movement, but Murmur knew, and a slow smile spread on her face.
The Martimight screeched in pain and stamped its feet like a bull ready to charge. From behind it, in a whirlpool of light, emerged several large cassowary-style birds. The casque on their heads looked like a helmet and different from the real creatures because it was a shiny black. Their coloring around their head was a deep, blood red that almost looked as if the wattles weren’t dangling, but instead consisted of a constant waterfall of blood. Their plumage varied, ranging from black to deep red. If Murmur had been capable of emotion right then, she would have been terrified of these dinosaur throwbacks and their huge clawed feet.
Stepping back, Murmur watched over the people fighting by her side, and pulled from the earth elements she knew were around her in the walls to cast her shielding and redistribute protection. It didn’t matter if she lost a few of her raid members; their resurrections were easy enough and the pain would fade. They weren’t as important as Snowy, this battle, or even this dungeon.
Without a thought for her own or anyone else’s safety, she called on her Mana Drain abilities and siphoned as much as she could from the Martimight. It screamed in terror, flailing its massive head around until its gaze locked onto her. Releasing the mana, she held, and letting it dissipate into the pools of the entire raid, she grinned as the creature screeched out a battle cry. Mana drains were as potent with aggro as heals could be.
Its claws raked the ice, sending up spear sized slivers that rained into the crowd. Several of the unsuspecting observers were impaled on the spot, with massive splinters jutting out from chests or heads. The explosive force left most of the benches covered in blood.
Just as it began its rampage toward her, Snowy barreled into it from the side with full speed and bulldozed it toward the far wall, where it impacted with a sickening thud. All of the light creatures who’d been attacking the raid turned as one, leaving ample opportunity for the players to cut them down where they stood, allowing rogues to backstab to their heart’s content. Only a handful of the creatures it released made it back to their master. Barely enough to restore eight percent of its life.
All the while, Snowy didn’t let up. He howled and barked, unleashing a tornado of cold directly into the wound he’d inflicted on the creature. It swirled around inside it, sending gobs of blood, viscera, and bone flying throughout the arena.
The watching crowd screamed in unison and began to flee, or at least they attempted to. The arena had locked them all in, and that included the spectators. Murmur smiled to herself at the sight of it. More experience, more annihilation, more ways to build up Snowy’s strength. He was a force unto himself.
Out of the corner of her sight, she could see him tearing into the Martimight even as the creature’s powerful hind legs took chunks out of the wolf’s hide in all their flailing. With the hit point absorbing shield Veranol had cast, the damage wasn’t life threatening for Snowy.
Murmur turned around, watching her entire raid force and frowned. They should be doing so much more. Filling her sensing nets that were still on the fritz with determination, she focused tightly on her raid. The effort it took to push past the fog preventing her abilities left her with a sharp pain firing through her skull every few seconds. But it worked.
With a blink of her eyes she pushed at them all, strongly suggested that those spectators attempting to flee were just free experience waiting to be claimed. Just the push they needed, just the influence they’d benefit from most. Their expressions changed, from one of support and awe, to ones of determination and, perhaps, a little bit of glee. Even Sinister and Havoc took part in the chaos, switching their targets, and bleeding the other monsters for as much experience as they could.
Snowy continued to rip apart his now dying opponent, blood dripping down from his muzzle, sticking the white fur around his mouth and lending him a macabre appearance topped off by his glowing blue eyes. Bits of flesh and bloodied fluff stuck in his claws as he continued to tear at the weakened and dazed opponent in front of him.
Murmur watched, a whirl of giddiness making her so lightheaded she could no longer feel the sharp pains in her head. Snowy’s bloodthirst called to her, spoke to her in ways that words couldn’t. In ways that Somnia couldn’t.
Screams echoed off the high ceiling, and the Martimight entered its death throes, causing Snowy to sit back on his haunches and watch with an intense gaze. As it let out its final twitches, and the last of the spectators was cut down where they stood, Snowy’s size shrunk back somewhat, but his fur still glowed brightly. He stood there, waiting for the creature to die, maintaining eye contact to the very end. Standing in blood, his feet looked like he’d stepped in pain.
Only when the light finally left the Martimight’s eyes did Snowy wuff once and turn to reclaim his position by Murmur’s side.
The blood didn’t matter to her at all. She reached down a hand and scratched at his ears almost absentmindedly. He was a good wolf, and no one was taking him away from her. Not ever.
The raid began to loot the bodies, picking up knickknacks and crafting materials galore. Still, Murmur watched. That fight had been too easy, especially after she lost her patience and made everyone kill shit without a second thought. Things needed to die. The faster she killed them, the quicker they’d get to the end. All Murmur had to do was use all the tools in her arsenal, which included the raid.
Her thoughts raced as she attempted to plan for more encounters. Suggestively nudging her raid mates had helped her sensing nets after all. While they were still giving her difficulty, at least she knew she could access them with extreme focus.
Lost in thought, she didn’t even notice when Sinister came to stand at her side until the blood mage tried to take her hand. Shaking it off, Mur sidestepped, letting her gaze fall over the entire raid as they looted corpses and sorted themselves out. They only appeared to have lost a couple of people during the entire battle. She hadn’t even noticed when they died. But it was a raid, and that was completely acceptable.
Finally, the script she’d been waiting for appeared. It began to write itself out, high up against the icy ceiling, its dark shade of blue a sharp contrast.
You have not yet completed this dungeon, but this encounter is dead.
Have you not scarified enough
for this, what would you accept instead?
Heedful are they who do no wrong
Evil are they who kill with a song
You have defeated Martimight and thus you have a choice:
Debuff 1: Mana Galore
This debuff will allow you to regenerate your mana faster, but it will slow your cast/execution times by 0.2 seconds.
Debuff 2: Health for Sacrifice
This debuff will allow you to regenerate your health faster, but you must sacrifice one commonly used spell or ability to do so.
Neither of these debuffs can be removed and both will persist through death. All debuffs gained in this zone stack. You must pick one of these two. Only one of these two will apply to the entire raid. You cannot change your choice once it is made.
She knew it. The damned dungeon was based around the debuffs it gave. A tingle of excitement slithered up her spine. She couldn’t wait for the final encounter. Just what would this dungeon throw at them next?
Several of the raid members had leveled up and were in the middle of scribing their spells. But Murmur was intent on the array of debuffs they already had stacked on them. The only one that made sense was the second one.
Sacrificing one of their common abilities didn’t seem such a bad choice, but she was hesitant because she didn’t know who made the choice as to which ability to forfeit. Slowing healing spells by a fifth of a second could easily mean life or death, more so than any particular lack of mana.
“Who chooses the spell we give up?” She asked the question in a loud and clear voice that rang through the cavern. Several of the raid members looked up in curiosity to see who she was speaking to.
For a few moments she looked a bit stupid and began to regret the decision to ask the world in general. But then the script began to appear before their eyes again.
Such a question, a good choice
Spoken loud, unwavering voice
The spell you forfeit mostly used
Changes your whole attitude
And that was it. Murmur glared at the words as they solidified and then faded away.
“So.” Masha’s tone was soothing, like always, able to take the edge off the mood. “Am I right in assuming that means we will forfeit the spell each of us uses most? Or else, we add point two seconds to cast time for any spell or ability?”
There was a general mumble of consensus around the arena. Neither choices seemed ideal, and Murmur knew she couldn’t afford to lose her Mez, or her Veto, nor could she lose any of her stuns. To do so would virtually cripple her character’s abilities. The healers would lose heals, the tanks a taunt, and the DPS would likely lose their most potent damage building skill.
“Damn it,” she muttered, irritated at the inconvenience. “How much of a difference will it make to healing with the added time to each cast?”
Masha shrugged. “It’ll add up, but so will the DPS. And the Mez timing. Regardless what we do, there’s a severe downside.”
Murmur sighed. There was nothing for it. She didn’t have the time to waste with these trivialities. They needed to get through this dungeon, to push onto the next. “Fine. Option one is really our only choice. Since we don’t get to choose which ability or skill we forsake, this is our only option.”
She didn’t care how they did it, or what she had to do to get them through it, Tieflos needed to be done with. They had important zones to visit, bosses to kill. Murmur took a deep breath, taking the silence and uneasy nods as agreement with her. “We choose option one.”
As soon as Murmur made the choice, the ground beneath them shifted, revealing a huge staircase that took them down directly to a suspension bridge far below.
Choices made, was it right?
Perhaps or not, but skip a fight.
Face the last and final boss
Did you call the right coin toss?
“I really wish it would stop it with all the riddles.” Sinister sounded subdued, and Murmur glanced at her, wondering why. As a whole, the raid was this much closer to defeating this dungeon. Then they’d be out, and free to tackle the last damned one.
“We skipped a boss then?” Risk’s tone held irritation and Murmur couldn’t blame him. The whole point of a dungeon was to kill shit, especially bosses.
“Probably means we picked the debuff the mob we’re skipping wouldn’t have had an advantage over.” Devlish shrugged, hefted his shield up and gestured toward the bridge. “Let’s head out.”
Murmur glanced at their surroundings and frowned as Snowy head butted her to move forward. Something wasn’t sitting right with her again that had nothing to do with her abilities not sounding properly. The raid seemed dejected, and without a second thought, she pushed out a wave of relaxation over them, soothing their irritation and worries. They’d all function far better if they didn’t give into their fears. Pain shot through her head again at the action, but she thought it might have been less severe than the first time.
It was difficult to punch through the fog surrounding her abilities. But it felt good to do so, like she was beating the system.
She noticed Sinister watching her from the corner of her eye and flashed her friend a smile. There was no time to deal with anything else while they were stuck in here. Sinister would understand. She turned her attention away from the blood mage and focused on the group makeup.
Extra casting or execution time didn’t appear to make much of a difference at first, but after a while it was going to add up. It could mean that in a prolonged fight they’d end up on the losing end.
Devlish cleared his throat next to her. “What’re you thinking about?”
Murmur glanced at him, her thoughts running around on high speed. “What else this weird dungeon has up its sleeve.”
“Not thinking about Sin then?” There was an odd intensity to his words, like he was angry or annoyed.
“Not right now. We have too much to get done. I can’t afford distractions right now.” She shrugged and returned to her surveillance of the area. Her sensing nets seemed to be partially working, although they were still a bit spotty. Perhaps forcing the focus had helped.
The bridge they were about to cross was way too high. She frowned as the icy waters beneath them came into view, throwing up freezing cold showers of mist. Add cold to her usual fear of heights, and Murmur expected to be terrified. Except all she could feel was calm and focused.
Devlish was still eyeing her with what she thought might be disapproval. She pushed the concern aside and absentmindedly soothed his irritation. Her sensory nets were preoccupied with the sheer amount of influx of information she basically needed to decode because she was dealing with partial abilities. Everything around them was on heightened alert. Life coursed through the very water veins that supplied the ice, through the light that refracted from reflections up high, and the heartbeats of the players who were with her.
She didn’t have time to be a singular person when Somnia needed her to be everything. The needs of the many overrode those of the one, or even the two. When everything was over she’d have time to think of herself.
Her head buzzed and she shook it, trying to regain her focus. It almost sounded like there was a bee flying around in her head trying to talk to her, trying to tell her something. She grimaced and tapped the side of her head, trying to dislodge the feeling. The sound quieted down to bearable.
Murmur allowed her focus to zone in on the area around them. Here under the overhang at the end of the bridge, the icy barren hid all sorts of nasty little things from them. She really concentrated, ignoring the pounding in her head that sounded like screaming. With extreme effort could discern that there were hundreds of tiny creatures just waiting to explode out of the walls at them once they entered the actual encounter.
“We have to move in slowly. There are a lot of opponents lying in wait.” She pushed her powers, trying
to read the thoughts instead of just gleaning their intentions, but pain shot through her head so badly she stopped. The pounding felt like someone was playing her head like a drum, and the drumstick was a sledgehammer.
They had to get to the final dungeon. Past these annoyances and free the final boss.
Murmur blinked, unsure where the thought had come from, but positive it was what they needed to do. It needed to be done, and the quicker the better.
Murmur could feel Veranol’s gaze resting on her. His thoughts weren’t something he hid. He was angry at her, he’d seen what she’d done to Devlish, and she knew he was aware she’d assisted the raid by means he didn’t approve of already.
What she couldn’t fathom was why he was so bent out of shape over it all. Didn’t really boil down to who won? The power underlying Somnia was potent and there for the taking, just like the getashi had been. Like they had been when they were in Telvar’s hoard. A brief thought flitted across her mind, a question about what was real and what was not. Had the incident in Telvar’s lair taken place or was she still hanging there suspended, shaking from the sheer force of knowledge entering her body?
Only Snowy’s head butting against her fingers kept her grounded. For one brief moment, Murmur almost believed that this was all a figment of her imagination. And for just that brief period of time, the feelings and sensations of the group she’d been raiding with for weeks inundated her, assaulting the wall she’d somehow erected.
Staggering to one knee, Murmur’s mind reeled. A sliver of doubt entered her thoughts, slimy and foreign and not of her own making. She fought against the impulse to curl up into a ball and sink her head into her hands and scream. The sheer volume of emotions began to leak through to her, snaking through to her mind like the tendrils of a blue bottle octopus complete with the intense stinging sensations that ripped through her brain.