by K. T. Hanna
Pieces that he thought sometimes might be in his head, that pushed forward to become more important than any beef he had with Murmur herself. In fact, things in his mind made him realize that while her defeat was important, so was the defeat of the game. Not necessarily conquering dungeons, but conquering Somnia itself.
A pain shot through his head, so bad it made him cringe and blink. He dropped to one knee and stayed there, closing his eyes in the vague hope that the discomfort would pass. It did, but not before he caught of glimpse of things he wasn’t sure were real. Of a room with three incorporeal beings. All of them moved with purpose, but one of them looked straight at him, its eyes focused on his so hard Jirald couldn’t tear himself away.
Was that the power the getashi offered him? He could become more with them. More in tune with the game world, with the world he preferred over the real one. That was something he could do. That was something he would do. And anything he had to do to take it that far was okay by him.
Jirald shivered as the glimpse shown to him faded. The caves down here were wet, damp, glistening with all sorts of condensation. It made his head spin, or perhaps that was the getashi.
You’re talking to yourself.
“Am not,” he muttered before realizing he was answering himself.
See?
He glared at the darkness surrounding him, at the slimy feeling of the floor beneath his feet. “You aren’t me. You don’t even sound like me.”
A chuckle rumbled in the back of his head, filtering into his brain, taking it over. Or at least that’s what he imagined someone taking over your mind might feel like. Sinuous and sticky.
But I could be you. We could be you together.
It didn’t make any sense, but even so, maybe that was okay. Not everything had to make sense, did it? He patted the getashis he already had in storage, gently caressing them as he thought about it. Finally, he dropped the last two he’d fetched into the abyss of his inventory with the others. As soon as the feeling left his hands, he missed it. Like a piece of him had been removed. It left him empty and yearning.
“Tell me more.” He spoke into the cavern, eagerness shading his voice. If it spoke to him, then surely it could show him what those glimpses meant.
See. We will get along just fine. I need to tell you about Sidius.
The silky oil of the voice smoothed out any concerns Jirald had. And even though it spoke of the assassin master, Jirald couldn’t help thinking just how similarly the voice and Sidius expressed themselves.
Surprised wasn’t the word Murmur would have used for it. No, she was irritated that her Thought Sensing hadn’t alerted her to the feles’ presence. Maybe it perceived her as an NPC, but even so it should have read the danger and warned her.
“What do you want?” Murmur played for time, knowing that her friends had only just started logging in. She had a deep and sinking feeling that they were going to need much more than just the twelve of them.
“What I want is irrelevant. What he wants is control. Of all of this, and of all of you.” Riasli’s grin turned feral, distorting her face into a macabre version of the pretty calico cat she’d been. “I plan to provide you to him on a platter.”
Murmur didn’t know what to answer. All she knew was she needed to keep the feles talking for a little while. She shot a message out to the guild.
I’ll try to keep her busy. Sin, get the others ready.
Sinister, standing next to her, managed to resist any outward signs that she was doing something else. Got it. EVERYONE TO HOME BASE NOW.
Murmur suppressed the grin she felt coming on as Sin began to hustle the rest of the guild to where they needed to be. She tried not to let panic set in at the sheer size of Riasli’s army she could see milling behind their foe.
Riasli wasn’t one of the main AIs, but an offshoot. Her intended role had never been large. But with the getashi inside her coding, she’d turned into something beyond the control of the game. Being outside the parameters of Somnia itself gave her and the forces she commandeered a certain amount of power. Riasli drank that in, fed off it, and wanted more. Mur didn’t need to ask questions to know that.
“I probably won’t fit on a platter, you know.” Murmur was desperate for time. Yet she had no idea how to gain it. She still couldn’t make out what the figures behind Riasli were. They were tall and sort of shambling, but just appeared to be shadows. Nothing she did to her MA abilities allowed her to ferret out just what army they were about to face. “You could try, I guess…”
She left it hanging there while Riasli laughed. Even the slight edge of hysteria to the sound made Murmur’s skin tingle.
“Really, little enchanter. Do you not think I know what you’re doing? I’m part of this world. I am of this world.” Riasli rolled her head as if trying to crack her neck. Her eyes flashed a brilliant red before settling into a bloody mass of stars.
Murmur shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, you were created for Somnia, but I bet you she’s pretty pissed off at you right now.”
You could say that.
Even the voice of the world sounded strained in that instant. Murmur pushed on. “I don’t believe we gave you permission to be on our island.”
Sinister: We’ve got this, Mur. Accept the invite.
Riasli laughed again, but this time the sound was forced. “I don’t need your permission for anything. I have him and his plan!”
Even as the feles spoke, Murmur accepted the raid invite from her friend. It momentarily flooded her field of vision with a list of more players than she’d have thought possible popping up and joining too.
“You can plan all you want.” Sinister stood beside Mur, her arms out straight as her fingers wove intricate spells. Blood ran in strands from everything around them, from the soil, to the animals that basked in the island bliss. All of them willingly giving to the blood-mage.
It was difficult for Mur to maintain an indifferent and bored smile as she watched Riasli back up a step. Mur had never seen Sinister cast a spell like this, and it only made her love her friend all the more. Keeping special abilities for when shit hit the fan was something Sin had always done. Though Mur desperately wanted to ask her why and when the earth suddenly seemed to want to give her blood. That part didn’t make sense at all. Unless it was life force. She remembered something about her friend being able to convert life force.
The liquid rose into a huge Blood Bomb, forming between Sin’s outstretched hands about four feet above her head. It swirled, and it turned, gathering momentum and volume. Life from everything around her, blood willingly given to become the means to an end.
Sinister grinned. “Best laid plans and all,” she said before muttering a release curse under her breath and shoving the ball away from her.
The words she’d uttered sent tingles through Murmur’s body, thrumming with power, with the will to protect the world.
She wasn’t sure if it was herself, Sinister, or else the world of Somnia that began to sing through her veins, but either way it was magical.
Murmur raised her hands, weaving a more complex form of the forcefield barrier, lending it thicker walls than usual, attempting to buffer her friends as they began to gather at her side. A long row of guild members formed, all the way from where she stood to where the castle was.
Riasli screamed. It was a wild and primal sound and would have shattered glass if the windows in their castle had been installed yet. The veil covering their assailants began to crack, and Murmur could sense from them that their minds weren’t their own, that they were helplessly trapped by a spell she didn’t comprehend.
She couldn’t let that sidetrack her. This was her cue. She knew the spell wasn’t meant to be used in this way, but what game had ever been fun without pushing boundaries? Murmur plunged her staff into the ground with a solid thud and released the forcefield with a shove of mental force
.
It rushed forward from where she stood, rustling the grass, upturning earth, and slammed into Riasli with a whoosh of released air.
It didn’t stop there.
Once it hit its target, the shockwave continued with momentum to carry her backward toward the lake. Not only did it hit the feles enchanter, but it also scooped up the rest of the shield she’d had concealing her forces. The creatures Riasli’d brought with her were mostly undead from what Murmur could see. Many of them didn’t have the presence of self to do more than scream. Many of them lost limbs that detached with sickening crunches as their owners tumbled across the grounds.
Her army wasn’t comprised of any one species or any specific type of animal. But Murmur desperately wanted to know how she’d managed to mind control undead. Perhaps Riasli’s hybrid ability was necromancy?
The forcefield began to slow in momentum before it reached the outer threshold of the island, right before it dropped them all into the water and sand.
Even if it hadn’t been quite enough, it made a hefty dent on their attackers, evening the playing field just a little bit. Immediately, Riasli began to marshal her forces back together again. Murmur lost no time in helping Sinister organize their own. If they were lucky, they’d have five or so minutes before the attack.
“Tel. Can you go help Neva with the weapons please?” He nodded and flashed out of view.
“Great to have you back.” Devlish spoke gruffly, brandishing a shield and initiating all of his self-buffs. “For a while there we weren’t sure if you’d make it back in.”
“Maybe not such a crazy welcome back next time, yeah?” Merlin smiled, activating his interface so that arrows of all measure appeared in his quiver.
Murmur looked around at her friends and at the happy grin on her wolf’s face. She liked it here, and she’d be damned if Riasli was going to ruin the world for anyone who needed it. Her relief at her friends having logged in while she played for time made her momentarily lightheaded.
“Beast?” she began.
But the large Viking just grinned at her. “Don’t worry. Pretty sure Sin’s screaming across guild chat got everyone’s attention. They’ve been portaling in non-stop.”
Murmur smiled. A siege against them wasn’t anything if the whole guild couldn’t defend their stronghold. They had multiple fight ready groups, not including their main raid force. About four full groups in their mid to late thirties. The guild was gaining strength, multiplying its members, and growing. It was strong, if the brief glance at her guild interface was anything to go by.
Briefly, she worried that once they hit forty-eight and could tackle the final zones, they weren’t going to have any guild groups in their vicinity. But she pushed the thought out of her mind for future Murmur.
She needed to be paying more attention to all of their class make ups, to everything involving the guild. Now it would be easier. Because now, even if it had some side effects, she could die in-game, and she could exit the game. Side effects weren’t something she minded, especially the ones she’d managed to take home with her. But she needed to be stronger inside the game.
Noise reached her ears, and Snowy growled deep down in his chest. Their respite was almost over. She couldn’t help the sense of anticipation that ran through her at the thought. A real fight, with consequences and stakes. Riasli was addicted to the power in the getashi, infected by it, warped.
She wasn’t sure what the fight would bring, but Murmur wasn’t about to hold back. Running through all of her abilities in her mind, she enabled her Druidic power and grounded herself, leant strength to her base and her personal protections.
About to announce the charge, she stopped when Havoc gasped at what Murmur had already observed for herself.
“Those are ghouls. How the fuck does an enchanter command ghouls? That is so overpowered!” Havoc sounded like he was sulking.
“Not sure, Necroboy,” Sin snapped. “But you can ask her when we defeat her zombie hordes.”
Havoc rolled his eyes, and Leeroy cracked his knuckles. Although that might have been Murmur’s imagination.
Murmur glanced back at the castle to see a growing number of their level thirty through forties, lining up in front of it. Their line of members spanned all the way out to where Murmur stood. Her members were well spaced, and all of them came prepared. It was getting real now.
“Stop preening at our awesome guild and give the marching orders, maybe?” Mellow spoke from behind her, and Murmur grinned.
“Kill them all.” Murmur was well aware that she probably looked like a mad alien but didn’t care in the slightest.
It was one hell of a battle cry.
When faced with a battle, the island seemed both impossibly small, and impossibly large. The time it took for the undead hordes to clash with them seemed like it was in slow motion. Their limbs didn’t appear to respond as quickly as if they’d been living. It left Murmur wondering why in Somnia Riasli had chosen the undead for her army.
But the inevitable clash of steel against steel came and rang out over the grunts of the impact. Weapons bit into rotting flesh, and the feeling of being surrounded by the stench grew claustrophobic. There was nowhere to move with a press of bodies around her, nowhere to turn.
For a moment she almost crossed the panic line after realizing she’d not yet got her new armor from Neva. But she took in a tainted breath and used Reinforce Self to do just that.
To her left, Sinister worked like a fiend. Blood flew between her fingers dancing like raw, shocking energy. Her face contorted with anger, rage directed solely at Riasli, and Murmur couldn’t help but feel pride in the way her friend deftly maneuvered her abilities.
“I can’t wrest control from her.” Havoc’s voice was breathless to the right of her.
She glanced at him and saw sweat beading his brow as veins stood out on his arms. He wasn’t casting with his fingers, but with sweeping gestures that exhibited a strange elegance she’d not realized he possessed. Havoc ’s DoTs aged limbs before her eyes, sending them into a rotting state before the creature attached to them could react. She knew from what she got of his emotions that this was the best he could do.
She hoped he knew it was enough.
Riasli’s face was a snarl of fury, like a wild cat with the rabies virus. She bore very little semblance to the once demure feles Murmur had encountered in Curet. As they tore through the front line of undead, Murmur instinctively knew it wasn’t all going to be this easy.
As the front row of ghouls fell away under Fable’s onslaught, Murmur realized she’d been too confident in her enchanter abilities. Forgetting, even for the few minutes she did, that Riasli was also an enchanter, looked like it was going to bite her in the tentacle hair.
Riasli had hidden the main content of her raid on Mikrum. Sure, there were ghouls scattered everywhere behind the feline. More than Murmur could count. But her other soldiers had a formidable air about them.
Proud tiger warriors stood among the ghouls. Their eyes were somewhat blank, distant, and filled with little thought. While they didn’t appear to be charmed, Murmur knew without a doubt that their minds weren’t their own. Somehow their programming wasn’t kicking in, perhaps?
I cannot figure out how to regain control. It appears their initial line-up has been tampered with.
Murmur suppressed her irritation and worry as best she could and focused on the battle in front of her instead. What she desperately needed was some area of effect spells. She didn’t have them, though.
She flung Nullify on everything she could, and then Weakened, and slowed them with Languidity. Stunning anything that crossed her path, she directed all her spells at their assailants as deftly as she could.
Stuns were her thing, her saving grace. Flux. Shift. Concussive Blast. While stunned, those damned tigers could be hit. They could take damage, and they couldn�
�t fucking do anything about it. The thing was, even with her casting Nullify left, right, and center, Riasli still had the ability to cancel the spell. So Murmur’s stuns weren’t all sticking to the targets, leaving at least half of those that should have been stunned, not.
A sword bit into her arm, and she pushed it away, not even focusing on her attacker. Leeroy swept his scythe down on the unlucky ghoul a split second later anyway. The pain was minimal, thanks to her bracers having halted most of the impact. Her concentration allowed her to compartmentalize it, allowing for either Sinister or Veranol to heal it.
She knew they would. There was no waiting for a heal, there was only working like the finely tuned system they’d come to be. Riasli’s scream tore over the battlefield as she too flung stuns and mesmerizes around with abandon.
Her actions seemed to be erratic though, and Murmur couldn’t tell if there was any rhyme or reason to them. It was all Murmur could do to remember to ground herself and keep her shielding up so that she at least made herself virtually immune to Riasli’s attacks.
Nothing Murmur threw at her would stick. Her Sinuous abilities felt vastly underpowered, as none of them appeared to aid their fight. She needed to go over those with Belius again, because in this fight they appeared useless. Maybe she wasn’t being fair, but enchanter versus enchanter couldn’t simply cancel each other out, could they?
A flash of light over near the crafting section of the keep drew Murmur’s attention away from the plight of her Sinuous line. It looked like the tanks of her guild had formed a sort of phalanx. Tall shields protected the entrance to the most important part of their castle: the crafting center. Their armor, their stores—everything they’d fought for and won was in that area.
Riasli didn’t seem focused on the castle though. She was intent on fighting her way through to Murmur. She began to tear through some of her own troops, pushing and shoving at them, blasting them out of the way with an ability Murmur wished she had herself.