by K. T. Hanna
Three groups of five pulled up on foot with their own clay golems tethered to them. Murmur surmised they’d probably altered their commands by force in order to get them to play along. And she had no idea what they wanted them to play along with until the woman spoke.
Her strong alto voice flowed with ease over the city, her words crisp and cutting. “We have come to retrieve our treasure, which was guarded by our deity Disestru. You harbor those who slaughtered him, one of them is also one of you. If you do not send them out to us so that we might deal with them, we will come in there. We take no survivors, we will besiege you until you beg to die.”
Somnia Online
City of Verendus
Late Day Seven Post Launch
Verendus was under attack.
Until you beg to die reverberated through Murmur’s head like someone had rung a gong.
Dying was so not on her game bucket list.
She took a deep breath, belaying the immediate panic that tried to rise in her chest. It seemed not all the NPCs gave a shit if she died or not. Which made sense in a way. Her advantage would be far too great if they did.
Murmur saw Veranol trying to get her attention and nodded. Their guild had done this, so they had to clean up the mess. Her only hope was that the dwarves might help them, because only twelve of them against the slew of golems and incoming scouts or whoever they were...well. That was going to get plain ugly.
They met up at the fountain, Rashlyn speaking in a hushed voice as soon as they did. “I can’t believe this. We should have known it was too good to be true.” She scowled, irritation obvious.
“We should have looked the gift horse in the mouth I guess. Or gift bear if you will.” Beastial received nothing but glares in return for that one, but Murmur found herself having to stifle a giggle.
Just then, Jinna jogged over to them. “It’s all good. Lasn said he’ll gather the guards and we’ll defend the city together. It’ll be easier with them helping us. We should be evened out, and well, they have a lot of levels on us.”
Murmur couldn’t help but sigh in relief. “Will they be in squads?”
Jinna’s eyes twinkled as he replied. “Of six, just like us.”
“Do you think they can take two to three golems on each?” She was calculating odds in her head, trying to come up with a decent strategy.
“Definitely doable. They’re running with Dirsna in a support group behind them, so crowd control of those golems is mostly taken care of. They’ll have cleric and druid support for healing. They should be able to do that easily.”
She nodded, switching her attention to the battlefield for a second. “How much longer?”
“They gave us ten minutes to respond.” Jinna spoke the words so softly, it was hard to catch them, but she supposed he was trying not to panic any of the civilians who might be around, even though most of them were already inside the huts with the doors barricaded. “We probably have five minutes left.”
“Get the others here pronto please, Ver. Jinna, can the rest of us go join Lasn?” Murmur hated having to coordinate combat. It always left her in such a foul mood. One of these days she was just going to strong-arm Jinna or Devlish into raid leading, but they didn’t have to worry about that quite yet. Two groups were barely more than a scuffle worth of people. She was quite apprehensive about recruiting enough people to fill a raid roster, but she’d let Future Murmur deal with that.
Lasn was a very sturdily built dwarf. He probably worked out, because his muscles didn’t resemble those of Jinna, or the two enchanters she’d met. His eyes were black as coal, and his thick hair was pulled back into a knot at the nape of his neck, which oddly mirrored his long beard of the same color that draped down in front of him. When he spoke, it almost made the ground rumble with its deep and calming sound.
“Is all right. Any friend of Jinna’s is a friend of ours. Why, we’da had a right ole boar problem without ‘im.” His welcome set her at ease, the faint lilt to his words were calming. “We’ve sent for Dirsna and asked ‘im to bring others with ‘im. Never too many enchanters.”
Murmur laughed. That would certainly make it easier on her. Her Mezmerize might have increased in duration, but she wasn’t going to be able to Mezmerize all the scouts she needed to and rebuff and keep buffs up and and...
Right there, in the middle of a pending battle field, Murmur had a moment of clarity.
Being an enchanter was fun. And not the type of godlike fun that healing was, where it was up to you if a person got a heal or not—if you were the petty sort. But the sort of fun that came with such an adrenaline rush because one wrong move could mean the entire party or raid wiped. And she’d be damned if that wasn’t electrifying. Controlling minds, influencing decisions, freezing bodies while their brains still worked—she couldn’t wait to enhance her path. If nothing else, control of things inside Somnia made up for her lack of control without.
Devlish was the last to jog up, a different aura surrounding him than he’d had before. There was a ripple effect to it, like he’d had a huge self upgrade, and Murmur felt herself grin with a little maliciousness. They’d just hit twenty and hadn’t even had time to activate their hybrid status, yet they had amazing added strength.
The woman on the horse moved restlessly, her face blank as she studied her nails, obviously bored. Energy crackled around her, and her thoughts were closed to Murmur, regardless how hard she tried to extend her sensor net. Time was ticking down as the dwarves gathered into formation behind her.
“Who is she?” Murmur whispered to Jinna as they finished all of their enhancing and defensive buffs.
But Jinna was too busy watching something on his HUD, and she had to elbow him in the ribs.
“What? Oh. You know, I’m damned buff with these.” He grinned like the game had suddenly knocked a couple of decades off him.
Murmur smiled. “Tell me who she is.”
“Oh, sorry. That’s Chief Intanko or something like that? I dunno. Apparently these people are the ones whose scouts we killed, and they worshipped that bear thing.” Jinna shrugged, his face grim. “Tis what it is. And it’s about to be war.”
He sounded far too gleeful for the amount of blood and pain they were about to endure. Murmur took a look at her own character sheet, frowning at the upgrades. Her charisma was off the charts now—well, not actually off the charts since she assumed they went a long way—but considering her allure added a chunk to it, right now, it was the strongest it could be. She weighed her sensing net, and made sure to seal her mind shield. Keeping her MA filled was of paramount importance.
“Enough!” Intanko’s voice echoed out over the gap in front of the city, through to the buildings, bouncing off the walls. She had to be using some kind of vocal magnifier.
“The guards are going to tackle the golems by themselves. We will take on the rest, with the help of villagers to mop up any who break through our defensive lines. Don’t stray too far from your healer. We have to keep the scouts at bay until the dwarves are done with the golems.” Devlish squared his jaw, determination rippling through his scaled form, and his new aura pulsed like a star about to explode.
“We battle now!” A wave of anger roared through their invaders as they pumped fists full of weapons into the air.
“When this is done, I want to know about all the cool abilities you all got. Can’t lead a raid without them.” Murmur grinned at Devlish, stood her ground, and tried not to think about the two to one odds they faced as Intanko’s army advanced.
Whatever Murmur had been expecting, the devastation, blood, and broken bones of the people gathered before her wasn’t it.
Before when she’d played games, their NPCs weren’t this intelligent. It took a certain number of hits to hack away at the life of an enemy, but those didn’t have to be strategic in any way shape or form. All that had to be done was enough damage to
reduce the hit points to zero. The violence was there, but never quite this precise, this real. But in Somnia, if you weren’t mindful of how you were fighting, where to aim, and how best to gain the advantage, then the NPCs would fuck you up.
Screams tore across the battlefield, accentuating the clash of steel and flesh. Wet thuds as maces struck legs. The occasional crack that resounded from a breaking bone. Repairing broken bones hurt like hell, too, if the following yells were anything to go by. Murmur tried to concentrate on herself, and on Sin, but the battlefield was distracting.
NPCs learned from the way players fought; they learned from the way players held themselves. Everything about the NPCs in Somnia evolved and learned, and above all, they remembered. No matter the outcome of this war, the game on Cenedril had already been changed.
Stumbling from the mass group stun she’d managed to unleash, Murmur grabbed Sinister under the arm and half dragged, half helped her wobble back to the entrance of the town. Her new AoE stun was beautiful, something to be grateful for. Eight whole seconds. For a few moments behind the guarded walls, Sinister gasped for breath, her leg hanging by some sinew and muscle. The sight made Murmur gag. Flesh hung out, open to the air, the bones visible through the near amputation.
Dirsna placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll take care of her. Try to stay behind your people. Help them.”
She didn’t have to be told twice, even though it was difficult to tear her eyes away from her friend’s leg. Squaring her jaw, and banishing the image from her mind, Murmur joined the first line of defense. Her stomach twisted, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the revulsion the wound caused, or else because she was petrified.
Generally not the type of person to get butterflies, this battle was above and beyond anything she’d ever experienced in a game before. Even the stench of spilled blood reached her nostrils, overwhelming her with the coppery tang. Murmur tried to calm herself, but deep breathing wasn’t the best idea. She focused instead on what she could do, and began casting spells.
First she sent out stuns into every nook and cranny she could. There was a recast on them, so she could only stun lock for a short period of time, or more precisely, chain two of her area effect stuns one after the other. Then there was a slight gap. Giving her people a respite was all she could do. Preventing combat made her a target too.
One of the guards moved mostly in front of her, hefting his shield and pulling down a visor. “You stay there miss, Jinna’d kill me if you gots dead.”
She would have smiled if she hadn’t just seen Merlin pick off one of the women from her horse with a flying fireball of an arrow. It caught her full in the front, in the tiny space between the collarbone and where her helmet began. With no armor to protect the spot, it sank into her flesh with a sickening thud that lifted her off her horse and knocked her into the snowy mud as flames began to consume her body.
Murmur could almost feel the shot as if it’d hit her. Everything was too real. Her chest constricted, her breathing became shallow, and she wished she could smack her own face effectively. What if one of their archers picked her out like that?
She looked around wildly, fear beginning to encroach on her vision. Her breath caught in her throat and suddenly it was just far too difficult to breathe. She could die here, literally die.
Fuck.
Suddenly Belius was there, an unexpected look of concern on his face as he held her elbow, making her rethink all her judgment of him for a brief moment.
“Right now, you can’t think of any of that! You’re losing your shields, and your sensor net is all over the place. Get a grip, Murmur. You’re going to kill these people if you’re not careful; your emotions are starting to leak through. Your fear will paralyze them if you don’t pull it together!”
Murmur blinked at him, her head abruptly stopping its spinning as she felt his shields clamp down around her. She righted herself, smoothing down her armor and gently pulled her elbow away. “Thank you. I’m not sure what came over me.”
Steel clashed against steel, arrows wizzed through the air, but Belius continued, his focus entirely on her. He glared at her, but it wasn’t quite as forceful as his usual glares. There was pure thoughtfulness behind it. “Your mind is powerful because you’re an enchanter. Your abilities have manifested because you’re a psionicist. And due to your connection here in Somnia, your wavelengths are magnified. Part of the reason I encouraged you to become a psionicist is that even though it’s dangerous, it also affords you and all others the most protection from yourself. Now pull yourself together and use that phenomenal power to support your allies instead of making them all panic like fools.”
She wanted to bite out that she hadn’t meant to, that no one had shown her what the hell to do with the powers. But the words sat on her tongue thick and heavy, because while no one had taken the time to show her, he had given her the hints she needed to find it. She cringed as she saw Devlish stumble in her peripheral vision. She didn’t have time to have a discussion, but even as she had the thoughts, she knew she had to make time.
Murmur wanted to tell him to fuck off. If he was so freaking powerful, why didn’t he just fend the attackers off? And she really wanted to ask him what his deal was, because that was one of the first times he seemed to be honest with her.
But instead, Murmur just took a really deep breath, tried to ignore the stench and taste of blood on the air, and nodded. “Sorry. Will do.”
Her head finally clear, she moved forward, repeated her stuns, and got to work debilitating their opponents one by one. Energy pulsed through her; the runes on her arms lit up with each spell she cast. Her fingers worked deftly and far quicker than she’d been able to cast the spells when she first got them. The new ones caused some finger knotting, but overall, her speed and her agility at casting simply served to increase her confidence, to focus her mind into a sharp arrow, increasing speed with every cast, almost as if it could stop time in her head. While her mana did diminish, it was nowhere near as fast as usual. Dirsna had buffed everyone with the maximum level Mana Tide, and its regeneration was beautiful.
The battle was close. Very close. Murmur frowned, not liking how locked in everything was. Skirmishes took place here and there, littered all around the now muddy mess of land in front of the dwarven city.
She focused on Devlish, who was going toe to toe with Itanka, backed up by Veranol. Sifting quickly through her spells in her mind, frustration tried to overwhelm her. She had so many abilities, some had slipped through the cracks. This was unacceptable. She’d let her predicament impact her usual class mastery.
Murmur’s MA sat nicely at a hundred forty-five, and her Mind Bolts were only going to cost eighteen mana each. She frowned, running through a few scenarios in her head. Almost recklessly, she chose one and went for it.
Devlish was still trading blows with Intanka, and it looked like the Cult-leading bear-licker was owning him. Murmur had already debuffed everything she could on her, and yet, Devlish didn’t look like he was holding up well, even though Sinister was backing up Veranol again if the blood clouds and bombs going off were anything to go by.
Steeling herself, Murmur clenched her fists and activated Mind Bolt.
Everything around her slowed down, like it was in slow-motion action. The practically invisible bolt of mental energy traveled over the field and shot Intanka straight in the head. Murmur fist pumped softly, happy to see that the duration was now almost six seconds instead of four. While Intanka could melee, she couldn’t use any special abilities or spells for that duration. And six seconds in a fight like this was a lot of time.
Murmur gave herself a moment to relax, and continued with her other debuffs, now focusing on secondary fighters, because the others were still timing down. After about eight seconds she fired off another Mind Bolt directly at Intanka again, painfully aware of the limits of casting the spell.
Devlish was waiti
ng for it this time, and launched some sort of supersonic-speedy amazing attack that had him dual wielding instead of defending, and wailing on his opponent in a series of slashes that looked like some sort of evocative death dance.
While she didn’t have time to watch his full routine, Murmur turned back to check on Rashlyn, who appeared to be running out of steam. Her opponent wasn’t nearly as tough, but anything would help her friend. Another Mind Bolt to give Rashlyn a bit of an edge, and Murmur had to refresh a few of her speed and debuffs before turning back to focus on Intanka again.
Intanka’s health was getting pitifully low. Luckily, there didn’t appear to be a healer in her vicinity. The ranged melee and casters had been taking those out one at a time. Which was why Sinister and Veranol were under such heavy guard, and even then lucky shots sometimes got through. Everyone always went for the healers first. It was logical, and ruthless.
Taking a deep breath, Murmur cast again, giving Devlish some good leeway to pummel the woman into oblivion. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Merlin firing shot after shot of flaming arrows, and hear their thunks into flesh that ended up wafting over to her in smoke form. The smell no longer strangled her, and she shrugged it off, wondering if the only way to survive this game was to become immune to all the violence around her. The ability to become desensitized to violence was an irrefutable fact of humanity.
Suddenly the guard in front of Murmur went down. It happened so fast, she barely had time to gape. And then a volley of arrows fired down on her, normal arrows. No, wait. Barbed arrows.
She tried to push out with the shield she held around her mind, hoping to belay the damage. Her illusionary shield wasn’t going to last long, and she didn’t have any type of spell to ward them off. Perhaps rain of arrows was an exaggeration, but there had to be at least half a dozen.