For your information: as the holder of the legendary Order of Victorious Gaze, you bring +30% to Observation Skills of all group members.
We were sitting around a freshly-started fire. The camp looked like military training grounds after a good shootout. Clumps of wet soil covered everything around: a rotting mixture of old moss, pine needles, blackened leaves and dank twigs.
I looked around me, taking in our camp’s state.
The sun had long risen but wasn’t in a hurry to show from behind the gloomy gray clouds. The air was damp and fresh.
We’d already packed our stuff. The Calteans seemed to have finally recovered from the horror of the previous night’s battle. Or at least they’d stopped ambling pointlessly around the camp looking lost.
My pets had long forgotten their ordeal and were now playing chase with abandon. Looking at them, I couldn’t help feeling as if this was but a leisurely walk in the park.
Badwar had removed his armor and sat by the fire, his torso bandaged with wide strips of fabric. The monster had grazed him, after all, giving him a “purple” back injury. I could see his life dwindle, then promptly restore again thanks to my Order.
Badwar’s pained breathing didn’t prevent him from wolfing down the thick stew sitting in front of him.
Lavena and the archers got away unscathed. I was shaken but unhurt. My temples tingled a bit, that was all. As soon as I got out of the capsule, I’d have to discuss all these weird special effects with the staff. Were they trying to experiment on the players or something?
I’d managed to grab a bit of sleep after the battle, but not much: two hours at most. Now I just sat there, taking in the results of last night’s party.
Lavena was sitting next to me cool as a cucumber, wrapped in animal skins. This was one tough lady. She’d fought with the best of them and basically decided the outcome of the battle.
I turned to the Calteans. “Thanks a lot, guys. You’ve saved my life. Had it not been for you...”
“Get away with you!” grinning, Lavena offered me a steaming bowlful of stew made with smoked meat, roots and herbs. “Shut up and eat.”
I nodded my gratitude, accepting the delicious offer. “Do you know what it was?” I asked her.
“Vapree,” she said curtly.
Aha. Did that mean they were familiar with that little beastie?
“Vapree?” I asked, faking incomprehension.
“Yes, Vapree, one of the five Ice Dhuries. She’s the horror of this land. The true Lady of Rock Wood. Legends say, it was her who gave life to the first Black Groves. I never thought I might see her in the flesh one day.”
“Didn’t she say something about her sisters?”
“You shouldn’t believe everything she says,” Lavena said absent-mindedly. She kept turning around, peering into the impenetrable woods.
“Our old shaman used to say his scrolls only mentioned three of them,” Badwar mumbled through a mouthful of his stew. “The other have two never showed themselves to us. I always thought those were just fairytales for the kids. And now this...”
“Vapree means Power over Dreams in some ancient tongue,” Lavena added. “Our shaman used to tell us stories about her too.”
“So only three of them have been described, then,” I murmured, thinking.
“Exactly,” Lavena said. “The other two are Nerkee and Aise, or so the scrolls say.
“Power over Woods and Mighty Mountain,” Badwar translated.
“They say that Nerkee prowls the world in the shape of a giant she-wolf,” Lavena added.
“And Aise, what does she look like?” I asked.
“We know little about her. Some say she lives in the Damp Cliffs. Her skin and heart are made of stone and her eyes are blocks of ice. That’s all we know. I used to think they were children’s stories. Yeah right! So many things have changed over these last few days.”
“Did you say she’d been sitting right next to us and we didn’t see her? What was she doing?” Badwar asked.
“Who, that monster? I really don’t know,” I said. “At first she looked like an Alven woman, only she was very small. She spoke to me, inviting me to stay and abandon you. And then my breathing stopped. I couldn’t move. I thought I was dying.”
“You were lucky,” Lavena said softly. “Normally, Vapree assumes the shape of a loved one. A lost son, a dead husband or an old mother who’s long joined her ancestors in their celestial halls. The Lady of Dreams has many faces. We know her better than the others because she just won’t leave the Caltean people alone.”
“She’s committed many a black deed,” Badwar clenched his fists. “Old legends said that she could appear to a group of warriors resting by the campfire at night, pretending to be their dead leader, casting her charms over them and luring them into the woods. There were stories about deserted villages where everything remained untouched: the livestock still in their barns and people’s possessions still in their homes. Only a whole bunch of footprints leading toward Rock Wood. But today, the dreadful legend has ceased to exist!” Badwar’s face glowed with triumph.
I chuckled. “You could say that. I bet the whole forest heard her screaming. We might get other nasty visitors in a moment. The sooner we move on, the better.”
“I don’t think so,” Badwar said. “I could bet my poleaxe that no beast will dare come anywhere near this place for a while. They all know what happens to those who stands in Vapree’s way when she hunts.”
Lavena smiled. “How are they supposed to know she became prey this time? Nothing will happen if we stay here for a while. We need a break, after all.”
Badwar paused, thinking, then nodded. “Very well. Let’s stay and wait for the main group.”
Then he cast her a begging glance. “Is there any more of that stew left? I’d never eaten anything like it, I swear!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
WE ADVANCED much faster now. The forest was changing, becoming clearer and less dense. We didn’t have to fight our way through the brambles and undergrowth anymore. Everything pointed at us approaching the sea.
Short squat trees which looked more like oversized shrubs were scattered amid the many glades and clearings. The dark, rich, heavy soil had been replaced by layers of yellow sand.
Sand was everywhere here. It spread in the rippling waves compacted by the incessant sea winds. The trees had all but disappeared, replaced by gnarly low plants which crept over the sand. Sun-bleached and eroded by the briny breeze, they were determined to survive.
As we walked through this sparse sandy forest, I couldn’t help thinking about nature’s variety. You can spend hours watching all the changes. This very area might once have been the sea bed once inhabited with fish and other marine creatures.
Then again, what was I talking about? This was only a game.
The sand was just as pregnant with history as the dark soil of the forest. I scooped up handfuls of it and brought them up to my eyes, letting it slip through my fingers as I studied the tiny white, pink and purple fragments of seashells where clams had once lived; withered bits of seaweed and tiny fragments of rocks. Kudos to the game designers: they’d done an incredible job.
I shook the remaining sand off my hands and wiped them on my pants, sensing a thin residue still clinging to my palms.
I brought my hand to my face and licked the tip of a finger. It tasted salty. The sea wasn’t very far away.
Droy — and not only him — found my actions amusing. Actually, the Calteans had cheered up a lot. The excitement of the journey’s end was palpable in the air.
Orman who knew this area well had told us that if we continued in this direction, we might soon reach the old lighthouse — probably some time during the coming night. According to him, there was a small settlement there, five or six houses where we could ask for lodgings for the night.
Then he became crestfallen. He must have remembered I’d already been here.
I’m so sorry, my friend. There’s nobod
y here anymore. Only Unai and his Sea Tigers. The last survivors.
I’d love to know how they were doing, actually. I had lots of presents waiting for them.
It had been three days after the night battle with Vapree. The shock of meeting her had gradually worn off over those three days, dissolving into the air over our numerous stops and campsites. We hadn’t seen any evidence of large mobs here anymore. Their packs tended to move further to the left from the route I’d chosen.
Shorve’s men had stopped going on extended recons. It was my job now. Open spaces were my forte.
As we traveled, my Calteans did quite a bit of herb gathering. Rock Wood was a true treasure trove of all sorts of plants. The clan’s herbalists and medicine women had the time of their lives, scooping up everything under their feet like combine harvesters: all the healing herbs, roots and tree buds which they then used to prepare all sorts of potions and bandages.
The news of Vapree the Lady of Dreams being slain had spread like wildfire. The locals greeted us as heroes, cheering Lavena the Vixen and her archery skill.
* * *
The day was on the decline. The sun was about to retire to its celestial halls. It hurried to share its last golden rays with the tired travelers, saying goodbye to earth and preparing to relinquish its duties to its younger sister Moon.
Our caravan of about three thousand Calteans was making its way through the sparse wood, trying to stay in the shade of the low trees. From above, our column resembled a giant speckled ribbon which snaked warily along the unknown path.
Many of the Calteans had recognized these places. This gave them the extra bit of strength they needed. Some of them even ventured into the woods — although they never strayed too far and only accompanied by warriors.
The commanders turned a blind eye to these forays. The men deserved a bit of fun. They’d been great throughout this perilous journey. Also, I was keeping an eye on them from above, anyway.
Soon the path took us to a large field surrounded by a dilapidated picket fence. After the multi-day trek through the woods, the panorama of the open space held the promise of freedom.
We stopped by the field’s edge. Reclaimed from the woods, it was now overgrown with grayish waist-high weeds. The wind ruffled the sturdy plants which had survived the tough winter.
The rippling dirty-yellow sea of grass seemed to glow against the leaden backdrop of the darkening sky. The combination was quite spine-chilling.
The fence was made of rows of crooked horizontal planks nailed to low stakes, gray and rotting. It must have served to protect the crops from some of the larger mobs. The gaps between the planks were wide enough to let in smaller animals — but not a herd of reindeer, for instance. It was also entwined with some thorny creepers.
Longhorn animal skulls were mounted on some of the stakes. The fence had sagged and collapsed in places.
When I approached it, I heard a strange humming sound coming from the field. Focusing, I realized that it was coming from skulls which served as makeshift guardians, scaring away birds and animals.
This field used to belong to a small Caltean clan long before the Horde had arrived here. Their shaman hadn’t been present at the famous council. He’d probably never made it.
The Calteans mood had changed. Instinctively, the warriors stood back to back, weapons at the ready.
They seemed to be expecting an invisible enemy to charge at them from the wood. All conversations had stopped. Any wayward travelers had rejoined the ranks.
Warily the caravan moved along, skirting the abandoned field.
The skulls’ song followed us for a long time afterward, urging us to leave the spooky opening.
Even when we finally re-entered the safety of the woods, the clan didn’t regain its cheerful mood. They walked in silence, casting frequent glances back and peering into the falling darkness.
Only when we decided to stop for the night did the tension subside somewhat. Hundreds of campfires shot into the sky in a large forest meadow, filling it with the aromas of food and smoke.
Our stew was ready and poured into wooden bowls which we passed around. In the meantime, Orman reached into the fire and produced a bird baked in clay. An appetizing juice oozed from the cracks in it. Orman had baked the bird feathers and all; now he was breaking up the clay which came off together with skin revealing the tender piping-hot meat underneath.
A heady aroma hung over the fire.
Shorve crouched next to me. “Did you notice?” he whispered.
“That someone is following us?” I said without lifting my eyes from my food. “I did.”
“Yeah. I noticed it this morning. They might catch up with us tomorrow. You know who it is?”
“No idea. They’re disguised really well. I didn’t dare get down any lower. They’ve been following us since yesterday morning in small groups. Twice they disturbed the birds. I think they know we’ve noticed them. You’re right, they’ll probably catch up with us by midday tomorrow.”
“I’d love to know who it is,” he mouthed.
“They’re definitely sentient. Had they been animals or Nocteans, they would have already declared themselves.”
I didn’t like it. We had another hard day in front of us. Our pursuers had been following us since the very next day after our battle with Vapree.
I remembered some advice from a survival expert I’d seen on the Net. According to him, in order to find your bearings in a forest, you needed to find an elevated spot like a cliff, hill or a tree.
Or Boris’ back, I added mentally.
Those who followed us seemed to know everything about my skills. I could bet my life they were players. Rogues, most likely, or someone with excellent stealthing skills.
Still, even they couldn’t have foreseen everything, like the birds they’d disturbed. Even though all I could see was a smattering of tiny black dots, I was pretty sure our pursuit was rather big: a very large creature or even a group.
Closer to the evening I went on another recon just for my own peace of mind. Everything was quiet; then some birds took to the wing again.
This was no coincidence. We were being followed.
The next day, my suspicions were confirmed. Our pursuers were catching up with us. Shorve noticed them too.
I didn’t want to alert the others. A panicking tribe was the last thing we needed.
We informed the warriors. Common tribespeople didn’t need to know.
Droy increased our speed. Luckily, the terrain allowed us to walk faster. We planned on reaching the cliffs by the seashore which offered us an excellent foothold for confronting any unwanted guests.
The night passed uneventfully. Closer to midday, we finally reached the seashore.
The sea was raging, throwing tall gray waves against a lone black cliff on top of which towered an old lighthouse built with huge slabs of stone. Like a fairytale giant it stood proud over the furious surf which attempted to swallow it whole.
Next to it, I realized my own insignificance unworthy of the elements’ wrath. The sea was beautiful. It raised the winds to such a crescendo that we couldn’t hear each other over their roar. Mountainous waves broke against the cliffs, shooting cascades of spray into the air. The breeze sprinkled our faces with brine.
Immediately our clothes turned wet; our hands and faces were covered in a fine sprinkling of salt.
We’d made it.
The corridor of cliffs welcomed us, calm and silent, its high vaulted roof dripping brine on our heads. The mere sight of it was breathtaking. It must have taken the sea many centuries to have cut this narrow passage through these cliffs which now resembled the insides of a giant snake or dragon.
Strangely enough, the passage was well lit inside. Sunrays seeped through the many cracks covering the rock ceiling, illuminating the walls that glistened with water.
“Part of the group will stay here,” Droy told his captains when the last cart of our caravan had disappeared into the passage. “We�
�ll post the archers on the clifftops. The foot soldiers will defend the passage. I don’t think we’ll need the cavalry here. Bevan the Raven and his men will meet the enemy on the other side.”
“If the enemy makes it to the other side,” Badwar growled. “Which I doubt.”
The others met his words with predatory smiles on their bearded faces.
“Take up your positions!” Droy snapped.
Our army shifted into action.
Four hundred warriors — more than half of our little army — stayed by the cliffs outside to cover our retreat.
Our upgrading to “blue” gear was already in full swing by then. Admittedly, it was taking longer than our initial swap to “green”. Making rare-class items took more time and demanded higher skill levels.
That’s not to even mention the fact that our Masters had to work on the go. You can’t do much without a proper workshop. Still, they’d been doing their best. At least we had plenty of materials courtesy of the Ennan treasury.
So now, a blue-and-green army stood in the enemy’s path.
“Can’t see a thing in this fog,” Droy whispered, peeking from behind a large boulder.
Indeed, despite the proximity of the sea the entire area in front of the cliffs was covered in an unnaturally white mist.
“I think it’s them casting it,” I whispered.
Droy almost choked with surprise. He stuck his head above the boulder and began casting angry glares around.
“Get down,” I told him. “You won’t see anything like that.”
“What are we going to do?” he asked.
“Nothing yet. Tell everyone to keep their heads down and pretend we haven’t noticed anything. Pass it on down the line. Judging by their behavior, they’re not local. They’re players — either Light or Dark.”
Droy nodded. “In that case, let’s wait till they attack.”
“Exactly.”
I was about to add something else when Shorve’s hand lay on my shoulder.
I looked at him. Shorve put his finger to his lips and nodded in the direction of the fog.
The Twilight Obelisk Page 26