We stopped by the fast-growing Tree Protector. Its boughs rustled over our heads. I stretched out a hand and touched one of its meaty, thorny leaves. Recognizing me, it retracted its thorns and gently stroked my hand. The tree’s range already covered almost the entire fort.
The constructed temple stood before us empty and silent, still bare of any symbols of divinity. Just a roof on carved pillars at the top of a pyramid.
Climbing the restored stars where Shazz and I fought not so long ago, I entered the temple and approached the altar.
Level l Unconsecrated Fortified Temple
Consecration requires an adept with a status of at least ‘priest
Identified: Initial.
Requirements met.
Scyth, do you wish to consecrate this temple to the Sleeping Gods?
I chose Behemoth out of the list of Sleeping Gods, and the altar transformed: green veins crisscrossed it, reached the floor, widened and ran all across the temple’s every surface. Rugged stone blocks were covered in a dark-gray finish. Bas-reliefs mottled the altar, upon which appeared the tusked face of a hippopotamus.
And again, as always when consecrating a temple to the Sleeping Gods, I—or my consciousness—was carried off somewhere into the endless and lifeless cosmos, where the imprints of divine entities whirled. Each touched me, greeting me and filling me with emotion.
Returning from my short journey, I saw something imperceptible pierce the floor in the hall’s center. A small whirlpool of viscous and sticky liquid suddenly formed, around half a yard across. It pulled my gaze to it like a magnet to steel. With great difficulty, I managed to throw off the haze and get a grip on myself. Strangely, only the priests and I saw the whirlpool, which seemed to be sucking in streams of faith. For everyone else, it was just an ordinary floor.
First Fortified Temple of the Sleeping Gods9 dedicated to Behemoth
Level: l.
Initial (1/1): Scyth.
Priests (3/39): Patrick O’Grady, Manny, Tissa.
Adepts: 169/28561.
Faith points to next temple level: 1/28561.
Build a third temple and consecrate it to one of the Sleeping Gods to support more adepts.
“Finally,” Behemoth’s voice boomed out behind me.
I looked back and smiled.
“Glad to see you at full strength again, Sleeping God!”
The divinity had returned to his previous humanoid form, but the avatar flickered; his energy was low.
“Full strength?” Behemoth echoed. “Not likely. All the faith is going to Tiamat. I can barely maintain my avatar in this plane of existence. I see that you are still alive, Initial…”
Behemoth shimmered and seemed like he might disappear any moment, so I kept it brief:
“The two armies have broken each other. The temple is temporarily safe, but one of us will emerge a clear victor in the next battle. If Shazz wins, the Nucleus will gain strength and recruit new legates; if Nergal wins, we have no chance of saving Tiamat’s temple. For now, both sides are licking their wounds and regrouping. Shazz is certain to restore the battle avatar of the Departed and form a new legion of undead far stronger than the last. Nergal’s followers will train against the desert monsters…”
“You said the Departed?” Behemoth frowned.
“Right. The lich dug up the bones of a huge monster and raised it. Who are the Departed?”
“The first sentients, offspring of Chaos. Renegades. They thought themselves equal to the gods, but they fled in fear of the New Gods.”
“Where to?”
“I know not. I do not see their presence in Disgardium.”
My conversation with the Sleeping God was short, but we came to an agreement on what to do next: we needed more adepts while both temples were whole. That would strengthen Behemoth, me and all the others. And most of all, it would give strength to Tiamat so I could hand in her quest and get new skills as a reward. When I asked which ones exactly, the Sleeper just shook his head.
“I fear that even she herself does not yet know that.”
I went straight from the temple to Shazz’s camp. The cultists had somehow contacted Morena and found a way to cleanse the soil of the Destroying Plague’s scourge. But I only saw what their method was when I reached the end of the street.
A small procession had formed with Dekotra the troll proudly marching at its head. Three cultists led nine resigned kobolds. The other members of the tribe wailed in despair, held their whining cubs close. Rvg’har the shaman limped among them, a stony expression on his face, held up on one side by the ore cultist Ranakotz and on the other by the clan chief Grog’hyr. I caught up to them.
“What’s happening here?”
“The land of Kharinza is dying,” the shaman barked. “Our warriors are sacrificing themselves to return life to this soil.”
I turned to look at Ranakotz.
“Tell me more.”
“A corruption spreads across the island, chosen of the Inexorable One. The goddess wishes to help, but her abilities are not limitless. We shared her suggestion with the great and wise Rvg’har and the courageous Grog’hyr. They took it upon themselves to help. Their weak warriors volunteered their blood.”
The howiing and wailing came from all sides, and if I understood correctly, it was from the wives, girlfriends and cubs of the kobolds chosen as sacrifice for Morena. I didn’t like the sound of that one bit.
“Stop!” I shouted. “No sacrifices!”
They didn’t hear me. I had to run to the head of the procession and stop Dekotra by force. The troll was fanatically singing odes to the glory of Morena and marching blindly, his eyes rolling as if he was elsewhere, and only Ghastly Howl brought him to his senses. A side effect was that everyone started running around in Fear. Even Patrick, who had come out of the tavern to see what was going on, ran off swearing into the Fiery Wasabi.
I sat down to wait forty seconds for the earsplitting screams and chaos to end. I wondered how the game system knew what I wanted. After all, all those around me were allied NPCs, and that meant that Ghastly Howl shouldn’t have any effect on them at all. But it did! But when I was in the group with the boys, it hadn’t worked on them then… Strange.
My rarely used talent from Crusher became relevant as soon as I leveled up. Among all the sentients on Kharinza, not counting Behemoth, I was the highest in level. And if I put some effort in now, then I could be number one in the world…
“What have we done wrong, chosen of the Inexorable One?” Dekotra said to me, shaking off the effects of Fear. His eyes were full of blood. He was still shaking. “I’ve never been so afraid in all my life!”
I’d been a little worried that the cultists or the kobolds might take Ghastly Howl as an attack and aggro on me, but apparently the chain of command worked; for the first group I was the chosen one of their goddess, and for the second, Initial of the Sleepers.
“No sacrifices, Dekotra!” I said firmly, standing up. “Every adept is important to the Sleeping Gods…”
Wait a sec… I could have thirty-nine priests now! The kobolds had increased in number, but there were also the cultists of Morena… Hmm. It didn’t matter that they already worshiped an Old Goddess. The kobolds hadn’t forsworn their faith in Kurtulmak either! The Sleeping Gods were outside that hierarchy, and the Old Gods themselves accepted their superiority!
“What would you say if I invited you to be a priest of the Sleeping Gods, Dekotra? The gods whose temple you see there,” I pointed down the street. “What would you say if I called on you and your people to worship the Sleepers? Would that contradict your faith in Morena?”
The troll froze, his eyes rolling. An alarmed whisper rippled through the other cultists behind my back. I turned.
“Speak louder if you want me to hear you. If you want HIM to hear you!”
Behemoth had arrived, and just in time. He must have taken the stream of Faith from Tiamat temporarily to show himself in all his splendor—the shadow of his h
undred-times-enlarged avatar covered the entire fort and Shazz’s camp. The effect lasted several seconds, but that was all it took.
“This is just as the Inexorable One wishes,” Dekotra answered. “I would be honored.”
“As would I!” Ranakotz shouted.
“And I!” a two-headed ogre roared with two voices. His shoulder bore traces of a recent bite.
“And all of us…!” a minotaur roared.
Alongside Patrick, Tissa and Manny, I assigned Dekotra, Ranakotz, Grog’hyr and Ryg’har. The Sleeping Gods now had eight hundred and seventeen followers—six hundred and forty-eight more than before.
I got just as many bonuses from Unity. Along with all the Awoken, including the noncitizens. Not counting equipment bonuses, my stats now looked like this: Primary characteristics
Strength: 574.
Perception: 489.
Endurance: 619.
Charisma: 489.
Intellect: 282.
Agility: 447.
Luck: 1648.
Secondary characteristics
Health points: 1,032,863.
Mana points: 235,273.
Vindication points: 2,197,000.
Plague Energy points: 2,000,000.
Ugh, if only I could get ColdBlooded Punisher back! At my current level, the set would have given me another six hundred and eighteen points to each main stat.
Nether. It looked like I’d have to complete the Nucleus’s quest! I planned to part ways with the Nucleus eventually anyway, so I might as well get a quest reward and get my armor back first.
Chapter 4: Nether Rift
“ALEX, wait!”
I heard Gyula’s shout just as I was casting Depths Teleportation. I had many things to do and not much time to do them, so I sighed in annoyance.
Canceling the cast, I waited for the builder to gallop over to me on his new horse. A gift from me. The mount was standard and hadn’t cost much. I’d bought the stallion in Kinema and delivered it to the fort, along with a hundred and fifty comm amulets, a few far-sight mirrors, a batch of blue picks and green profession equipment for our miners. The key to any victory was a well-protected flank. It would be silly not to buy things to increase the workers’ productivity.
By now, the boys had already logged into Dis and got down to handing out new gear. Even I got some. Crawler plucked three legendary Crystallized Nightmare gems for me (each gave +500 strength) out of preventer armor. I put them in my SharkorTs Mane shield.
Gyula dismounted, although that was putting it charitably. In fact, his mount cantered past me, reared and threw him from the saddle. He had a lot of training to do…
“Never mind, I’ll get the hang of it.” He stood up, brushed himself off and waved away my quizzical look. “What did I want to say… Uhm… I understand that the clan has enough expenses as it is, but…”
He handed me a handwritten sheet of paper.
“What’s this?”
“We can replace some of the base building materials with higher-quality alternatives. I wrote down what to replace with what. Some of it can only really be gotten at the Kinema Bazaar. For example, I want to use gnomish steel instead of copper in the metalwork. For better durability and defense. I also want to add mithril to the…”
“What’s the best of all?” I interrupted him.
“Adamantite. But we’d go broke buying that. We ain’t talking about making chainmail. We need tons of metal!”
“Have you ever heard of Corrupted Adamantite?”
“Nah. Should I read up on it?”
“Yeah. I think I know where we can get some.”
“Great!” he said, his face lighting up. “Anyway, the list has everything w^e can replace and the options for them: from the cheapest to the most expensive.”
Gyula said goodbye and went to get on with things. I cast an eye around the fort, activated Depths Teleportation again… and interrupted it again.
A brigade of miners was walking through the gates. Talking light-heartedly, they waved at a worker in his underpants, who was running along the fort’s only street from the graveyard behind the temple. The return of the Montosaurus brought back old problems—the workers had apparently resorted to drawing straws again to see who would be sent in to feed the beast-god so that the others could safely reach the mine.
I walked over to them, said hello, nodded toward the runner.
“The Montosaurus?”
“Yeah, that bastard,” a bald miner spat. I didn’t recognize him. “May he fall down to the Nether! Why?”
“Keep it up, guys. In a week, we’ll be taking care of that reptile.”
We were waiting for Rita before we took out Monty, so she could get the achievement too. He wouldn’t escape this time. Balancer, a Combo and say goodnight, pest of a beast-god! I couldn’t tell the miners that, though.
“Thank you! Finally! This is getting real old!” The gratitude poured in from them all.
The bald one frowned.
“Boss, is it true that you got new picks for us?”
“New picks and new equipment. Go see Crawler at the clan vault. He’ll hand it out. How was work today, by the way? You guys feel stronger?”
“You can say that again!” The bald man’s eyes widened and his lips spread in a happy grin. “We’ve been hearing rumors that we’d get a boost once the second temple was built, boss, but this? We’re breaking up whole veins in minutes!”
I made my excuses, left the cheerful miners and headed for the kobold shaman Ryg’har, newly-minted priest of the Sleepers. His once small tribe had grown severalfold in a few short weeks, even though the kobolds themselves spent most of their time in the jungle and hills. They should have taken losses from the depredations of a certain nameless and greedy beast-god. But on the contrary, they had a population explosion!
The contradiction whirled stubbornly in my head and demanded an explanation, so I started asking questions.
“Say, Spirit Speaker, have you seen the Montosaurus?”
“The Ruler of the Forest?” the shaman clarified. The kobolds loved slinging lofty titles around. “Of course I have. Why do you ask, chosen one?”
“How many kobolds have you lost to him?”
“One,” Ryg’har darkened. “At the very beginning, when the dead left and the Ruler of the Forest returned. Hypa’Fuq-qur, known for his intemperance in matters of… uh…” the shaman smacked his lips, choosing his words carefully, “…of love… Met his end in the forest ruler’s maw. I spent all the next night talking to the spirits and found a way to calm the Ruler’s anger…”
The shaman fell silent and closed his eyes, immersed in reverie. I coughed, already starting to suspect something.
“What way?”
The shaman snorted awake, opened his eyes. While he took his time, I sniffed the air and finally realized that he smelled of sewage. I hadn’t detected anything when I spoke to the kobolds before, but I’d turned up my sense of smell to enjoy some of Aunt Stephanie’s dishes in the tavern. Even with my sensitivity still below full, the shaman stank so bad up close that I gagged.
Ryg’har reached for the rope around his long-maned neck and pulled an ugly amulet out of his robe. It looked like a ball rolled up by a dung beetle.
“An amulet created from the blessings of the Ruler of the Forest.”
“The blessings…?”
“The beast-god’s droppings are a blessing for the whole world. The Ruler of the Forest will not harm the carrier of such an amulet. But…” Ryg’har fell silent and twitched his moist black nose, baring his fangs.
“What?”
“But the amulets stink.”
I could imagine how badly the kobolds suffered with their sharp sense of smell. I didn’t envy them, but nonetheless, we had to get the miners some of these amulets. They could wear them on their way from the fort to the mine and hand them from shift to shift.
“Never mind,” I smiled. “I think our miners can handle that. Can you make some for them too?�
��
Ryg’har happily agreed to help. He limped away, barking hoarse commands to his helpers as he went.
* * *
“So this is the capital of the longeared little folk!” Patrick muttered, looking around reverently at the Bazaar.
We’d only just gotten rid of the annoying street merchants trying to sell us “The Richest Guide to Kinema,” including the second, forbidden edition, and now we were trying to get our bearings.
I took the drunk with me to help negotiate with the sewer troggs in Stone Rib. I’d decided not to go through Darant on the way. The city watch there was already patrolling the streets with torches of True Flame, and here in the goblin capital, I could buy everything on Gyula’s list for upgrading the fort.
This last jump through the depths leveled up my skill and gave me something new.
Depths Teleportation level increased: +1. Current level: 5 -
Can now teleport sentients that are not in your group, on the condition that they are at or below your level. Requires touching the teleport target.
I decided to think of practical applications for this new tool later, in calmer surroundings. For now, I studied the map of the Bazaar and tried to figure out where to start for building materials.
The place was a lot calmer with the preventers gone. Which isn’t to say there were fewer tourists—NPCs lived their lives and continued to travel to Kinema, but I saw no player patrols.
We wandered the Bazaar, buying building materials as we went. It was no easy task. A lot of walking, talking and sweating. And Patrick decided to ‘whet his whistle’ at every watering hole we passed. It was a good thing the wholesalers had magic delivery services, which was something like Dis mail, but the clan was the recipient and the cargo was sent straight to the clan vault.
I spent so much money that my decision to sell the Portal Key to Holdest was finally made. It was foolish to keep hold of something that had no more use and never would. Especially when we were hurting for cash, and the valuable artifact threatened to turn into a bauble; if the launch script for the Destroying Plague faction ended, then Holdest would likely become the continent of the undead. New players who chose that race would immediately wind up there, and none of us doubted that hordes would reroll their characters in the rush for achievements.
Holy War Page 7