Which was all very well, but raid leader needed to come up with a plan.
[Smoked] ‘Group two take over the front line. Oveidio and Rubblethumper MTs; healers on them. Anyone able to get beyond the fight and behind their casters, do so and try to stop those Lightning Strikes. Group three, retreat back around the corner to guard the back of one and two and set up ready for those incoming from the entrance. Group four, hurry back to three and guard the rear with them.
[Group] ‘Heal up our injured, then wait as a reserve and commit to front or back, whichever needs you most. Sapentia, you make the call, I have to go try to take out their sorcerer.’
[Group] ‘Hai. Good luck.’
My idea was to set up the raid in a pocket of corridor and at least have a small area that was not overrun, where the casters could sit to recover spirit in between launching their spells. The downside of such a static, trapped, setup was that we’d be cooked if the Anura wizards and sorcerers could med and nuke for the whole battle. I had to try and eliminate them, perhaps with my summoned bats and rats. From here, though, through the confusion of the melee and the crowds, there was no way I could pick out their artillery. Flicking on my Invisibility, I squeezed along the wall, past Oveidio, who was keeping three enemy fighters at bay with powerful sweeps of a two-handed sword, sweeps that I found it wisest to crawl under rather than remain standing and sidle against the wall.
In the relative calm once I’d crept beyond the clashing of steel on steel, I found three Anura casters, squatting low, more frog-like than ever, in between their leaps to launch spells. One shot up right ahead of me and I thought he could see Invisible. No, it was just so he could utter a spell, one which resulted in a cool, turquoise light flowing from his long fingers into the bodies of his warriors: clearly this was a cleric. The other two were in robes, the runes on which testified to their being sorcerers of some sort.
Hurrying further on into the darkness beyond, I flicked at Summon Bats, just as one of the sorcerers stood up and began to cast. Attack Target, I ordered my little minions, and was relieved to see the flickering swirl of fast-moving shadows descend on the Anura before his spell went off. Whirling around with as angry a face as I’ve ever seen on a frog, he pointed at me and shouted. Having made an offensive play, I was no longer invisible of course.
Summon Rats came next, the pack of rodents came at once and I sent them onto the sitting caster. It was evident from the hit point bars of my enemies that my summoned allies were doing very little damage. Even so, they were distracting the casters from blowing our raid to pieces and that was invaluable.
My plan had been to launch myself at the cleric. Before I could do so, a fighter detached himself from the melee and came running my way, brandishing his spiked mace, and at the same time there was a cry in the raid channel I couldn’t ignore.
[Smoked] ‘Roberta here, group four, we’re cut off and dying.’
A glance at the raid screen confirmed this. Four of them had less than a quarter strength.
Bracing myself for the coming attack I called back, rather breathlessly. [Smoked] Run! Roberta. Whatever route you can. Try to take as big a train as possible away from the fight. Even getting us a minute could make all the difference.’
[Smoked] ‘Right. Group four, follow me!’
You have been hit by a macuahuitl for 0 damage.
The frog man (woman?) in front of me had a vicious club, with chunks of sharp-looking obsidian that looked to be capable of taking my head off. Even though I couldn’t be wounded by the weapon, I needed my full attention or I’d risk a headshot that might kill me.
Our raid screen looked bad and a miserable image flashed through my mind, of me saying a few words in the hall to a disconsolate group of players at the end of a defeated raid.
The fight was in the balance. Just a few seconds after our exchange and only Roberta was left of group four. Half of group three – the lowest levels – were dead and while groups one and two still had their compliment of players, Oveidio and Rubblethumper were losing hit points faster than our healers could restore them.
Then my enemy gave a shriek and turned around. A grinning gnome was there, Rasquelle, and the Anura warrior had just lost half his hit points.
Leaping onto his back, I bit hard at the line of green flesh between helmet and breastplate. With a taste of rubber in my mouth I got the hit I wanted.
Critical Hit! You have bitten an Anura warrior for 48 points of damage. You are draining his blood.
You have increased the skill Bite (166).
[Channel Raitha/Klytotoxos] ‘I think our rearguard is about to collapse, should I summon Nemain with her horn?’
For a moment my adrenaline-filled body shouted yes. My mind, however, overruled that thought. [Channel Raitha/Klytotoxos] ‘It’s all gone pear-shaped, but no. Better to wipe. We can come here again at higher level but we can never get that ability back. And we might need it for the dragon fight.’
[Channel Raitha/Klytotoxos] ‘I agree; I just wanted to check.’
[Group] ‘We charge north, now!’ shouted Sapentia to group one, just as Savoda went grey, leaving Tombalinor the only standing member of group three. Using my eyes and tiny motions of my fingers that did not affect my grip on the Anura warrior, I accessed the raid UI and hastily made Birch leader of group three in order to swap Tombalinor into ours. Immediately on doing so, I saw and felt the glowing buff of a healing song (and a Haste song flashed too, but as I had Tuscl’s shaman buff already and they didn’t stack, this was of no benefit).
[Group] ‘Major Heal on Tombalinor,’ announced Braja.
Simultaneously, Tombalinor, whose hit point bar had only a sliver of green, rushed back up to full health, while my opponent finally died. It felt like a tide had turned. Now I could get that cleric and so could Rasquelle. I held back my own attack until the gnome rogue got in her backstab, then, as the Anura cleric staggered to his hands and knees, over half his life gone, I leapt on top of him and bit at his neck. No critical, but I did get a mouthful of froggy ear.
You have bitten an Anura cleric for 32 points of damage.
While I wrestled with the cleric, Tuscl called out, [Group] ‘Es better you sing spirit Restore. My Haste overrides yours.’
[Group] ‘You got it.’ Tombalinor sounded full of the eagerness of the born again. And a moment later a soothing blue-iconed buff replaced the Bard’s Haste. This would be a lot of value to Braja and Sapentia.
And all at once, we were winning. Without their cleric, the Anura tanks facing Oveidio and Rubblethumper must have gone down fast, for our two warriors were suddenly beside me, attacking the two Anura figures that were covered in rats and bats respectively. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem possible to recall my minions, or I would have redirected them. In fact, both groups of summoned creatures dispersed when their opponents died.
On the other side of the battle, Grythiss had heroically been holding back about twelve Anura fighters (four in their front row). I could see that now as the victorious group two ran back to him and took up the fight.
I drew a deep breath and calmed myself after that hectic few minutes. [Smoked] ‘Well done. Thanks everyone for staying off the raid channel, though you must have been curious as to what was happening. It was close but we are going to win from here. Everyone who died, give Rasquelle permission to move your body and we’ll Restore Life here.’
As if I’d taken the ban off speaking in the raid channel, there was a lively exchange of relieved voices, set off by someone saying, [Smoked] ‘Wow! That’s awesome. I thought that was a wipe for sure.’
[Channel Oveidio/Klytotoxos] ‘Woan was incredible, such timing. A lesser cleric and we would have failed.’ My Russian friend opened a private channel.
[Channel Oveidio/Klytotoxos] ‘Coming from you, that is great praise. I’ll thank her.’
He didn’t reply. Job done, I suppose.
[Channel Klytotoxos/Woan] ‘I heard you were incredible, well done. You saved us from a wipe.’
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[Channel Klytotoxos/Woan] ‘Merci. It was a narrow squeak.’
When the last of the Anura was dead and we had a pile of our own bodies in the corridor, I swapped the groups around, temporarily putting the bards and clerics together. It took a lot of spirit to cast Restore Life; with the bard buffs, however, they would recover quickly enough.
[Smoked] ‘Tuscl here, Potion of Breathe Without Air on the cleric.’
Well, that was interesting. It could not be a coincidence. [Smoked] Quiet everyone. Let’s think about this, a ring and a potion to breathe. Both on priests. What’s that tell us?’
It was Sapentia who spoke, after a short pause. [Smoked] ‘God fight, maybe? To be near him for enough time? Smoke god. Hard to breathe?’
[Smoked] ‘Smart. That makes sense. Let’s hope the effect is directional. Tombalinor, pass your ring to Rubblethumper please and Tuscl, give that potion to Grythiss.’
As our raid recovered its proper shape, I moved the groups back to the initial four and as soon as my own friends were gathered back together, the usual banter began. Raitha spoke first. [Group] ‘During that last battle, you used a strange idiom.’
[Group] ‘Who me?’ I asked.
[Group] ‘You indeed. You said that the battle was assuming the shape of a pear, as if this were a bad thing. In my culture, a pear is often considered to have a voluptuous figure, one that poets consider to be positive.’
Sapentia snorted derisively. [Group] ‘Pear? In Kerala you celebrate large, fat lower body?’
[Group] ‘Nothing so specific.’ The emphasis in Raitha’s voice was like that of a teacher making a rebuke. ‘I believe it is an all-round association between delicious, sweet moistness and curves.’
[Group] ‘Now we’re talking,’ said a cheerful Braja.
Raitha sighed. [Group] ‘Tut, I am not making myself clear. My query is that why did Tyro describe our near disaster as a pear shape? Is this an Irish expression?’
[Group] ‘I’m not sure where it comes from, sorry Raitha, but if a situation has gone pear-shaped it means the plan has become a complete mess. You don’t have it in the US, Braj?’
[Group] ‘Never heard that one and we have a bucket load for that. Snafu, Charlie Foxtrot, Fubar, gone to crap…’
[Group] ‘Oh,’ I had a sudden thought, ‘we use one that’s definitely Irish, “banjaxed”. We use it for when something is broken beyond repair.’
[Group] ‘Banjaxed,’ repeated Raitha carefully, ‘a most valuable term. I shall be sure to add it to my English vocabulary.’
Even Grythiss joined in, which must have strained his commitment to role-playing. [Group] If ssomeone makesss misstake and it all goess wrong, we lizardmen say he has crapped in the blue cupboard.’
There was a pause, followed by laughter from the whole group, with Braja laughing the loudest. [Group] ‘The blue cupboard? What the hell is the blue cupboard?’
Interrupting his own soft chuckles Raitha added, [Group] ‘I imagine it to be the Lizard King’s most important cupboard, where he keeps all his valuable and treasured possessions.’
Much as I enjoyed my friend’s company and their chat during downtime, I could see from the raid screen we were all ready again.
[Smoked] ‘Let’s set up, group two at the front; five metre space then group one; five metre space, group three; same to four. I’ll scout.’
As everyone shuffled into their positions, I set off down the long torchlit corridor. Careful not to trip any wires, I noted highly artistic, stylized carvings on the walls. They were half-life-sized, flat-nosed figures, like Egyptian hieroglyphs and perhaps there was some kind of story behind them. What interested me in particular were the depictions of the Smoke God. Surprisingly, he was somewhat human shaped, except that not only was he double the size of his worshippers, his torso was shown as a whirlwind.
There were several rooms off the corridor, none of them with doors and all of them empty. They were the practical rooms one might expect in a temple: barracks; kitchen; washroom and a storeroom. I didn’t even place one foot into them but instead pushed on, until the very welcome sight, just after the corridor turned sharply to the right, of a large square room with a great pit in its centre. A ledge, wide enough for two people, went around the room and in the centre of each wall, the ledges had ladders going down into the darkness.
[Smoked] ‘Move up to the corner, we have a way down. Rasquelle, come with me down a ladder.’
A moment later, our female gnome stepped out of the shadows like a portal had opened in the wall. It was a neat trick.
‘What’s up, boss?’
‘Pick a ladder and test it.’
Our rogue walked around the room, studying ledge, walls and ladders carefully. Then she set off down the one on the far side, moving slowly and cautiously. I did the same for the nearest one. As I swung myself into position over the black depths, it did occur to me that I might not be immune to falling damage. I’d never heard of a vampire falling to his death. After all, I had the ability to turn into a bat or a cloud, instantly. All the same, what if they were greyed out because I’d used them recently? Would I be immune to the damage of impact?
Halfway down I heard a grating sound and an ‘oops’ from the gnome across from me. The ladder over that side had snapped flat to the wall, leaving Rasquelle clinging by her fingertips to the lines in the brickwork.
‘What did you say your Discover Traps skill was?’ I whispered.
‘Ahh,’ once again, as she glanced over, the gnome showed me her guilty face. ‘Not having a good day.’
My ladder ended at a ledge but the shaft continued downwards. Good. The god was supposed to be spawned in the depths of the ziggurat. After waiting for the Rogue to climb down to my ledge, I gestured to the other ladders. ‘My guess is one is safe, the other three trapped. Would you mind seeing if I’m right?’
‘Not at all,’ replied Rasquelle with a confidence that she surely was not actually feeling.
It took a while, but this time she found the traps.
‘You’re right.’ She was about twenty metres down, at the bottom of the ladder to my left. ‘This ladder is the only safe one.’
Hurrying - the rest of the raid must be bored and I could hear in group chat that Braja and Sapentia were annoying each other again - I went down to the next ledge. There was a final set of four ladders before we reached the bottom.
‘Go ahead,’ I said to Rasquelle, ‘find the safe one. I’ll climb back up and mark the way.’
Once at the top again, I called up my inventory, took out a candle and lit it near the first ladder. Then on the ledge below I placed one beside the second and another when Rasquelle announced that it was the far side that was safe.
‘Well done.’ I gave her a smile.
[Smoked] ‘Right, we can all move on. The pit is trapped, only the ladders with candles at the top of them are safe. Just to repeat. Only use the ladders with a candle at the top.’
‘Let’s you and I explore.’
Looking serious, Rasquelle stepped into the darkness on the left side of the corridor and vanished. I strolled along the right, though my nonchalance was mostly bravado. These Anura guarded their god carefully and I was feeling a rising anxiety in the face of what was bound to be a difficult encounter or two before we met the boss himself. The corridor, too, felt oppressive, like the weight of the building above me was bearing down on me.
Behind me flashes of colour from magic weapons and ordinary light from lanterns testified to the arrival of the rest of the raid, as did the clatter of their boots. It was surprising how loud they all were. We may as well have announced our arrival with a team of trumpeters.
Finally, after a very long walk in the darkness, the corridor turned left and opened to a huge chamber. Aha, this was promising. A wide plinth, about two metres high, was in the centre of the room and had what looked like a coal fire burning in it. All around the edges of the room were a dozen ferocious-looking figures: somewhat larger than a human, huge ey
es, wide mouths full of teeth, thick-fingered clawed hands stretched wide. And they seemed to be looking at me.
I took a step back. [Smoked] ‘Big room, big fight. I hope. Come on up.’
Having gone back to meet the raid, I slipped through group two to walk with my own group. There was no group chat now, we were all on alert. Halfway down the corridor, I felt the floor move slightly.
[Smoked] ‘What was that, did anyone else feel it?’ someone asked and a dozen voices responded.
Ahead of us came a clang. Then another from the back. My heart sank.
[Group] ‘I think we might have crapped in the blue cupboard,’ I said. No one laughed.
[Smoked] ‘Oveidio here. Group one have reached a dead end.’
[Smoked] ‘There was no dead end. Something has changed. Group four, turn back,’ I ordered, but I knew what they would find.
Sure enough. [Smoked] ‘Roberta here. Blocked. If I didn’t know we’d just come this way, I’d have said it was a dead end too. There’s something else too, a hissing sound.’
[Smoked] ‘I can hear hissing.’
[Smoked] ‘Hissing by me too.’
Everyone wanted to report.
Snakes?
[Smoked] ‘Silence!’ shouted Grythiss. He was very good at policing the channel. In the quiet that followed, the hissing sound was quite distinct and coming from all around us.
[Smoked] ‘It’s gas.’
Whoever said this was right, my infravision showed a light-coloured gas was pouring into the corridor from small holes at more than twenty points.
[Smoked] ‘Warriors, try to slide the obstructing wall ahead of us. Push it in every possible direction. Casters, if you have a spell that might get us out, use it. Everyone: if you can get yourself out of here and beyond the front wall, do that now.’
Someone fell over. And I felt the corridor begin to swirl. Immediately, I triggered Cloud Form. If I was shaped out of vapour, I wouldn’t have to breathe, or so I hoped. Another character fell and another. Then, it seemed, a dozen all at once. No one below level thirty was still standing. This situation had wipe written all over it in large, red, capital letters. Still, I wasn’t going to give up.
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