by Demi Harper
‘Unless you yourself die and become a sprite, yes,’ she said, sounding a little sad.
I realized she must have lost access to her own avatar when her gem shattered, but I was prevented from questioning her about it when she added, ‘But don’t let this knowledge make you complacent. Your avatar may have multiple lives, but each one is precious. Rebirth is a harrowing process – as you yourself can attest – and if it happens too often, your avatar will feel undervalued. She will become… recalcitrant, and may even abandon you altogether.’
Ris’kin? Abandon me? Coldness filled me at the thought.
I shook it off. Even without this knowledge, I would never squander her lives. I’d watched her die once. I didn’t intend for it to happen again.
At Ket’s urging, I focused on my Augmentary. Tier eight had brought me two new abilities.
Double Sight
Tier 8 ability
See through the eyes of your avatar, even outside of your Sphere of Influence. (Note: this does not allow for direct control of the avatar.)
That certainly sounded useful, though it would not help us much in our current situation.
My eyes widened upon seeing the second ability.
Possession
Tier 8 ability
Assume direct control of a single denizen. (Constantly depletes mana. Only usable on denizens who are within the user’s Sphere of Influence.)
Past Corey would have jumped for joy at acquiring such an ability. All those times I’d struggled to understand my gnomes, and just wanted to tell them what to do, and now I had an easy way.
Now, though, I couldn’t help but see Possession as rather sinister. Taking away subjects’ free will was how Cores like Grimrock operated. Wouldn’t this make me just as bad?
When I shared my concerns with Ket, she did her best to reassure me. ‘It’s all about how you use it, Corey,’ she soothed. ‘Cores like Grimrock abuse powers like these, whereas you will not. Still, it’s probably best used in emergency situations only.’
‘Like the one we’re in right now?’ I asked.
‘Good point. Best try it out now so there’s no surprises when it comes to the emergency-emergency, eh?’
As much as I disliked the idea of using this ability, she was right. Possession might end up being the difference between life and death. If there were mistakes to make with it, better I make them now rather than later.
I turned my attention upon the nearest gnome: Twain, one of the two remaining sawyers. When I focused on him, the Augmentary showed a small list of options beside him. As well as the Vocation option, there was now a new one: Possession. I selected it.
A sense of pure dizziness filled my being, accompanied by rising panic as I was snagged by an invisible hook and yanked down toward the gnome on the ground. I fell forward, throwing my hands out to break my fall. My palms collided with the rough earth, as did my knees.
Wait… hands? Knees?
I stared down at the hands in front of me. They were not small, but normal sized, in proportion with the rest of my body.
My body.
I struggled to my feet, reveling in the sensation of feeling my muscles move, my legs stretch out beneath me, my pulse beat beneath my skin.
However, these physical sensations were nothing compared to the emotions. Whether having a living body enhanced or even created the feelings, I didn’t know, but Twain sure had a lot of them.
When Ris’kin passed and touched me – no, Twain – on the shoulder, one feeling in particular hit me like a slingstone, almost overwhelming me: pure, unbridled joy at the sight of my avatar, made even stronger by her proximity. Twain felt as though anything were possible with her watching over him. Tears brimmed in my – no, his, damn it – eyes.
I forced myself to get a grip on my own identity. I couldn’t afford to get swept away in his.
A part of my mind was still attached to my God’s Eye view above, the same way I usually felt my gem in the ‘background’ of my mind. Though I was entirely here, in Twain’s mind and body, I was also there, though I could not see myself from above. My only eyes were the ones I now looked out of.
My new vision was far more limited that I’d become accustomed to. For one thing, I could only see directly in front of me. I had to physically turn my new head if I wanted to perceive things on either side of me, and my entire body if I wanted to look behind. Furthermore, I had to actually move my legs – suddenly remembering that I’d always hated walking – if I wanted to view anything further away than a few feet.
This was exhausting.
That may have had something to do with my steadily draining mana, which I could thankfully still sense if not see. I’d been in possession of Twain for less than five seconds and already a full globe of mana was gone. Thanks to my latest Ascension, and the worship of my Faithful, I had seven globes remaining.
Okay, that’s enough.
An instant later I was back in my God’s Eye form, looking down again.. Twain was scratching his head, frowning.
‘Will he be all right?’ I asked Ket.
‘He seems fine, Corey,’ she reassured me. ‘Just a little disoriented.’
That could be problematic, but I was glad I hadn’t caused the little gnome to have an identity crisis or anything. Then I caught myself. I’d thought of Twain as ‘little gnome’, but when I’d been inside his mind, I hadn’t felt small at all.
Before I could get philosophical, I forced myself back to thoughts of the approaching army. I might be uncomfortable with the Possession ability, but there was no denying it would make the coming battle much easier. My original half-formed plan had involved splitting my warriors into small groups and attaching an acolyte to each, then using Divine Inspiration on the acolytes to convey tactical commands.
Unfortunately, that would have entailed the rigmarole of the acolytes conveying my ideas to the warrior leaders in turn – a situation that was far from ideal in the heat of battle. Especially given that the warriors had ignored my ‘suggestions’ – such as badger-mounted cavalry – in the past.
Ket continued to try and convince me. ‘Possession will make things much easier, and it will allow your acolytes to continue worshiping. That will ensure you have sufficient mana to maintain your abilities throughout the battle. Or at least until…’
She broke off before finishing the no doubt macabre thought.
‘Until Ris’kin takes the field and saves us all?’ I offered.
‘Exactly.’
We shared a sense of grim amusement, this false hope making our coming destruction somehow easier to bear. It didn’t last long, though.
‘She didn’t stand a chance against Snagga,’ I said quietly.
‘Well, we’d better make sure it doesn’t happen again, hadn’t we?’ said Ket.
I gazed down at the shrine below. Bruce the badger was crouched beside it, chomping on an insect.
‘Don’t worry. I think I have an idea.’
One Evolution later, Ket and I gazed admiringly at my avatar. The new markings on her face made her look noble yet fearsome, and a sense of joyous pride filled me near to bursting.
‘It’s good to have you back,’ I murmured.
Ris’kin half-closed her eyes in acknowledgement, then moved off to help the nearest gnomes with their preparations for the coming battle.
The thought filled me with anxiety. I’d only just gotten my avatar back; I didn’t want to lose her again. Hopefully the latest upgrade I’d given her would ensure that this time, she would at least be better equipped to deal with whatever Grimrock could throw at her.
Hopefully.
Fifty-Seven
Prepare for Battle
We had to move quickly. My skelemanders indicated that Grimrock’s forces had not yet reached my Sphere of Influence, but it wouldn’t be long before they did. I knew from past experience that his base was about an hour away from mine, as the kobold walks, and we’d already used half of that resurrecting and evolving Ris’kin.
While I’d been evolving my avatar, my denizens had returned to their task of preparing for what was to come. I’d finally found myself well and truly facing a hard fact: the Grotto would almost certainly see combat this day. Though my forrels, whipfish, and boulderskin – and of course Octavia the eight-legged cave wanderer – were as formidable a force as I’d been able to make them, the last battle had shown that my mana simply would not replenish quickly enough to replace my creatures at a sustainable enough rate to hold the enemy back.
Remnants of the kobold forces were going to break through eventually, and I simply would not have enough mana or god-born to stop them from doing so.
However, my creature-based defenses would at least buy us a couple of hours to ensure we were as prepared as we could be for the coming violence, and so I used our remaining time to begin evacuating the tribe’s most vulnerable members. There was no way I could allow children and non-combatants to remain near the fighting, especially after witnessing the earlier near-miss with the baby gnome.
I’d originally planned to have the builders fortify the creche as soon as they were done with the other preparations, but there was no time for that now. We’d have to improvise an alternative.
Focusing on Gneil, I activated Possession and found myself once again in control of a fully functioning humanoid body, this time belonging to my high cleric. Once the initial shock of disorientation passed, I turned my five acolytes and called out my instructions. Then something very strange happened.
The words that came out of my mouth were garbled. Nonsensical. I immediately stopped speaking in mid-sentence, baffled by this phenomenon. However, my acolytes waited patiently, looking only mildly confused, as though waiting for me to finish. Can they understand my words, even though I can’t?
I tried again, this time forcing myself to continue until my instructions were done, despite the rubbish I heard coming from my own mouth. To my utter amazement, the five acolytes leapt to their feet and scurried away to do exactly what I’d tried to tell them to do. It seemed I still could not circumvent the universal rule of not being able to verbally converse with my denizens, but I’d managed to impart what I needed to nonetheless.
‘Great job, Corey!’ Ket praised. Beside me – well, beside Gneil – my gem glowed a smug fuchsia. I took note of its increased size from my tier eight Ascension, and it glowed even more smugly as a result.
Then I noticed my mana draining steadily – possessing Gneil for the last twenty seconds or so had consumed nearly four globes. I hastily withdrew from my high cleric, who shivered and then marched off after his acolytes.
My brief use of Possession now saw Gneil and his five underlings rounding up every non-fighter in the Grotto. These were comprised of fifteen adult gnomes and a handful of juveniles. After a few tearful goodbyes and too-brief embraces, the non-combatants headed over to the hole in the west wall – the one the badgers had first emerged through.
Using footholds in the wall, made by Swift and Cheer on their recent journeys, one by one the gnomes climbed up into the hole, following the narrow dirt tunnel beyond to their new refuge: the old badger sett. They would remain there for the time being, but if the battle was lost, the acolytes had instructions to join the evacuees and then make their way to the surface. That way, with any luck, they might even survive the kobolds’ inevitable purge once the battle was lost.
This little exodus was led by two of the creche nurses; the other two nurses carefully passed up the five young juvenile gnomes before climbing up themselves. Jack and Elwood – both of whom had brought their woodcutting axes – came next, then Twain and the other sawyer. They were followed by the four builders, the forager, the tanner, and finally the armorer.
I wanted to send my acolytes with them too, but knew their worship was more efficient when conducted at the shrine. Since our chances of success would likely depend on my new Possession ability to maintain command over the warriors, I’d need a constant supply of mana. It was an unfortunate necessity that this would place my acolytes at risk.
However, they were not undefended. I used Possession to place eight of my militia in position around the shrine, with Granny to lead them. When she called out to these motley militia fighters, they shook their spears and cheered in answer. The militia had not trained in the use of shields; instead, the armorer had equipped them with stone-tipped spears, longer than those used by the warriors and designed to be wielded two-handed.
Some of the militia – those Granny had deemed less of a liability – were also equipped with slings, and had grown surprisingly skilled in their use. Though there were only eight of them stationed here, it was good to know the shrine would at least have some semblance of defense if the kobolds managed to break through this far.
Bruce the badger had also stationed himself beside the shrine, and looked as if he was settling in to stay there. Having seen him in action against the kobolds in the earlier skirmish, I felt a lot better about my acolytes’ chance of survival with him watching over them.
Meanwhile, Hammer, Graywall and Bullet were drilling their warriors one final time over near the palisades. Their spears were sharp, their armor sturdy, and their bearing determined.
And yet…
Is flinging my denizens into battle really the right thing to do? Or does it make me no different from Grimrock?
I shook off the thought, and the guilty uncertainty that accompanied it. Having the gnomes fight was essential if any of the tribe were to survive this. The previous battle had proven that my god-born would never be enough to protect them. Not against this enemy.
Besides, unlike Grimrock, I wasn’t compelling my denizens to aggressively raid, and die in, another Core’s territory. I had merely provided the gnomes with the means to defend their home, and protect their race against one who intended them harm. Though I could now compel them to specific actions with Possession, the fact was they had already chosen to fight. But would it be futile?
A twinge from one of my skelemanders told me our time was up. The enemy had arrived. Ket and I shared a long, paralyzed moment of cold dread through our emotional bond.
‘We can survive this,’ I murmured. ‘We can.’
It felt good to say the words aloud, though I was far from sure I believed them.
Fifty-Eight
Enemy
As my skelemanders had warned, the first kobolds were already setting foot inside my Sphere.
The enemy are here. But are we ready for them?
I still had serious misgivings about our ability to handle them, but the time for doubting was past. My god-born were in position, and we were as prepared as we could be.
Nearest the Grotto, I had a pack of three basic forrels in the Passage. Our close call with the rogue shaman during the last battle had made it clear that this group of defenders should remain in place no matter what may be occurring elsewhere.
Further in, three tunnels branched off from the Passage. The left-most branch eventually led to the Sinkhole, which I’d left vacant since the incident with Grimrock’s Sphere of Influence overlapping mine and enabling one of his own god-born monstrosities to devour my boulderskin. The kobolds, however, would have no such qualms about utilizing the Sinkhole as a means of ingress, which was why I had three forrels guarding the tunnel leading to it. One of these forrels was an evolved specimen, tougher than its basic brethren and even more dexterous.
I had the same set-up – two basic forrels and one evolved – in the other two tunnel branches. The middle branch led to the Heart, which was guarded by the colossal, eight-legged, twice-evolved Octavia. The third branch, of course, led to the Lake, where a pair of whipfish waited, along with a fearsome twice-evolved boulderskin.
My recent Ascension to tier eight meant that my Sphere now encompassed a marginally larger area. This now included a tunnel that led from the Heart and connected with the passage on the far side of the Lake, and was clearly how the kobolds had managed to attack different points simultaneously
last time.
That would be handy if I had enough forces to occupy it myself. Alas.
‘Focus, Corey,’ murmured Ket. ‘You’ve done everything you could. Stay calm, and try to make the best of your preparations.’
‘Mm-hmm,’ was all I could manage in response. I watched with building anxiety as the enemy stalked boldly down the tunnel toward the Lake. They marched in pairs; I counted them aloud as they entered my Sphere of Influence. ‘Two… four… eight… sixteen…’
They kept on coming. The red-scaled creatures’ formation was lax to say the least, but they still looked far too organised for me to feel comfortable. Some of them carried torches; the wavering flames reflected off the kobolds’ sharp teeth and obsidian spear-points, and created a legion of monstrous shadows that accompanied them along the cavern walls.
When they reached the passage that branched off toward the Heart, I was surprised and a little confused to see them ignore it. Instead, they continued on toward the Lake, as did the ones that followed.
They trickled along the tunnel at an insultingly leisurely pace, as though they had no concerns about the coming battle. As though my god-born weren’t lying in wait to ambush the overconfident, red-scaled monsters. And still they continued to all head in the same direction.
‘Twenty… twenty-two… twenty-four…’
If I’d known they were going to be this stupid, I’d have had all my god-born at the Lake to meet them, I thought with frustration.
I prepared to summon Octavia from the Heart and along the new passage; the massive spider-like creature would be able to ambush the kobolds at the point where her tunnel connected with theirs. I had no doubt she could do a lot of damage in the relatively narrow space.
I hesitated, a twinge of suspicion holding me back. Is that what Grimrock wants me to do? If this was a ruse, moving my god-born from their positions this early might be a fatal error.