Telepathy, rank II: Psi wave, mass sleep.
Spellcasting, rank II: Delayed casting.
Beast bond, rank I: Calm beast, beast bond, extend bond, enrage beast.
Body control, rank I: Mind-over-matter, boost speed.
Telepathy, rank I: Mind shock, confusion.
Telekinesis, rank I: Teleport (self), hold, teleport (object).
Air magic, rank I: Blend, truesight, shocking hands.
Fire magic, rank I: Flaming hands, fire dart, fire shield.
Water magic, rank I: Water armour, slippery ice, ice wall, freezing hands.
Earth magic, rank I: Barkskin, grasping roots, earth tremor, poison ward.
Supportive magic, rank I: Restore health (self), restore health (others).
Civilian abilities (5 AP available)
Commander, rank II: Invigorating aura.
Scrying, rank II: Improved scrying.
Travelling, rank I: Show portals, travel (self).
Scrying, rank I: Show hostiles, basic scrying, detect scrying.
Nature lore, rank I: Show plants, gather plants.
Commander, rank I: Inspiring, shared sight.
Governor, rank I: Detect truth.
Mage lord, rank I: Channel essence, channel novice spells.
Equipped items
Heir’s mithril scale armour (32 armour, +8% commander).
Elven mageblade (35-40 slash damage, +8% longsword).
Bone shaman necklace (+2% earth magic).
Tamer's bracelet (+8% beast bonding).
PART THREE
Chapter 19
17 Octu 2603 AB
In the beginning, the cosmos gave birth to chaos. And from chaos, demons were born, the first immortals. —Matriarch Duhara, jade great bear.
Kyran did not sleep well.
His dreams were haunted by a pair of green eyes, staring at him with disgust, loathing, and disappointment. He awoke before dawn, eyes rimmed red and head pounding. Pushing away from Aiken’s warmth, he ignored the bear’s sleepy protests and padded softly to the cave mouth.
Gaesin was on watch. At Kyran’s approach, he turned around and smiled crookedly. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Kyran shook his head. “No,” he said, sitting down beside the half-elf. “Last night did not go well.” He sighed and looked at Gaesin. “Did you talk to her?”
“No,” said Gaesin with a sigh of his own. “She refused to speak to me.”
Kyran nodded glumly. “I guess it was too much to hope that she would take it well.”
“It’s better she learn the truth now than later,” said Gaesin.
Kyran fell silent. “Adra thinks she is hiding something,” he said eventually.
Gaesin looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“She thinks Mirien reacted strangely to the mention of Sara’s name. Did you notice anything?”
“No,” the youth said, shaking his head slowly. “But Adra has always been more perceptive than me.”
“Not to worry about it then,” Kyran said. He wondered if he should have spoken as openly as he had last night. Mirien’s reaction had been worse than he had expected. Despite Gaesin’s warning, he had underestimated both her passion for her cause and her revulsion of the gods. But it had been the right thing to do, he told himself, though perhaps not necessarily the right decision for the party.
Where does that leave us now? he wondered. Mirien was clearly unhappy with his intentions, and he suspected it was only her commitment to her mission that kept her with the party. Should he insist that she leave? If she stayed it would only add unnecessary tension, not to mention the difficulty of trying to negotiate with one of Iyra’s own with a Brotherhood soldier in his party.
But he didn’t think he could bring himself to force her to leave. She had unflinchingly played her role in the party and earned the right to stay if she desired.
He sighed. He needed to stop thinking of the whiesper and turn his mind to the party’s more immediate problems—like getting out of these mountains. He turned to Gaesin. “I’m going to see if I can’t find the wyvern lair before the others get up,” he said.
Closing his eyes, he began to scry.
✽✽✽
Mirien awoke calm.
Her mind was clear and her breathing even. Despite the turmoil that had been roiling through her, she had managed to sleep last night. And today she had purpose. She sat up.
Adra, Aiken, and Gaesin were gathered around the campfire eating, but Kyran was nowhere to be seen. She would have to face them, she knew. Gritting her teeth, and fighting off the unease that threatened her newfound calm, Mirien walked stiffly towards the trio.
Gaesin looked up at her approach, his face hopeful and silently pleading. She looked away from him. Adra watched her with opaque eyes and twitching whiskers, while Aiken huffed his usual greeting before returning to his breakfast.
“Morning,” Mirien said, keeping her eyes fixed on Adra. The wolven’s animosity she could deal with. And trust.
“Morning,” returned Adra neutrally before silently handing her a bowl of food. She began eating.
Gaesin licked his lips. “How are you feeling, Mirien?”
She ignored him. “Where are we headed today?” she asked Adra.
Adra’s eyes slid from Gaesin to her. Ignoring the byplay, she answered Mirien directly. “Further east. Kyran is scrying for the wyvern lair. He hasn’t found it yet, but we will keep heading east until he does.”
Mirien nodded. “Then the plan is still to recover the climbing cable?”
“Yes,” replied Adra.
Good, thought Mirien. That would leave her plenty of opportunities. Aiken paused in his chewing and glanced her way. After a moment, he snorted and returned his attention to his food. She cast the bear a sidelong look of concern. Had he discerned her intent? Impossible. If he had, Mirien would be dead by now.
She finished her own food and rose to her feet.
“Where are you going?” asked Gaesin.
Still ignoring him, Mirien turned to Adra. “I will be outside. When the party moves out, I will find you.”
Adra nodded solemnly.
✽✽✽
The party set off eastwards at a comfortable pace after breakfast. Kyran kept up his search for the wyverns while they travelled. With him lost in his scrying and Mirien keeping her own counsel, it fell to Adra to guide the party.
They saw no further signs of Gnarok’s tribe as the day waned, either of his warband or the worg hunting packs. It gave Kyran hope that the ogres had finally given up or lost the means to continue their pursuit.
At day’s end, they broke to rest. While the others set about erecting their camp, Kyran stared out into the night, his thoughts bleak. He had still not found the wyverns, and it concerned him greatly. Finding the creatures now seemed the party’s only hope of escaping the mountains before winter. And while he himself was not discouraged by their circumstances, he could not say the same for the rest of the party. He glanced back at his despondent companions.
The events of the last few days had taken its toll on them. Faced with the daunting possibility of spending winter in the mountains and the renewed tension in their ranks, no one was happy.
Kyran sighed. The day’s efforts had yielded some benefits, though. He had gained another level from his constant scrying, and construction in Deepholm had advanced further.
Kyran has reached civilian level 24.
Kyran’s base skill in governor has increased to 16. Effective skill: 11.5.
Remaining: 0 Civilian SP, 6 AP.
The central guardroom at Deepholm has been completed!
Work has begun on the central main barracks.
But it was not nearly enough. The only way to raise his companions’ flagging spirits, he knew, was to find a means of escaping the mountain’s confines.
Mirien’s hostility was a thornier problem. All day long, the whiesper had steadfastly refused to speak to him or Gaesin. Yet she had performed all her
duties diligently and, other than for her frosty silence, gave him no cause for complaint.
But Kyran suspected that a reckoning was still to come. He had not been forgiven, and at some point, he feared that the fracture in the party would split open into an irreparable rift between the whiesper and the rest of them.
Kyran could see no solution, though.
He expelled another troubled breath. Tackle the problems, you can, Kyran. Closing his eyes, he set to scrying. I will find the wyverns, he vowed.
✽✽✽
Kyran’s persistence paid off, and in the early hours of the next morning, he finally found the wyverns.
It took the party the entire day to reach the creatures’ lair. While the nest was not far away, the terrain made the journey difficult. The creatures had chosen their lair at the top of a precipice, the front of which was a sheer unclimbable rockface. Fortunately, the back of the precipice was much more navigable.
Yet it still took the party the whole day to climb to the top. Without a rope, the journey was made that much harder. Several times, Kyran had considered continuing on alone, but both Gaesin and Adra were adamant that they would not be left behind.
Kyran glanced forward to where Mirien was helping Adra around the final rock spur. The whiesper’s demeanour had changed little from yesterday. She had barely spoken to him today, and what words they did exchange were only so she could provide him with the little she knew of the wyverns’ nature.
“You’re still sure she will forgive me, brother?” he asked Aiken. The bear’s only response was a disinterested snort. Kyran scowled, not amused by his companion’s lacklustre response. Granted it was not the first time he had asked the jade bear the question, but still…
Kyran sighed. Once again, he found himself thinking about the whiesper when other more important matters should be occupying his attention.
“Kyran, we’re here,” said Adra.
He looked up. The two women had scaled the rock spur and peered down at something hidden from his sight. From his scrying, he knew they were studying the entrance to the wyvern nest. Time to focus on the task at hand, Kyran, he told himself firmly.
He glanced up at the sky. Night had fallen fully, and the stars had appeared. “Any sign of movement?”
“No, it looks like you were right,” replied Adra. “The wyverns have retreated into their lair for the night.”
“Good. We’re nearly there.” Kyran turned to Gaesin. “Let’s go join them,” he said, motioning for Gaesin to precede him while he followed behind with Aiken.
Unusual for a winged species, the wyvern lair was more a burrow than a nest. The beasts had chosen to make their home in a series of winding tunnels, accessible from only the precipice’s heights.
During his scrying earlier, he had observed the creatures winging their way back to their nest as the sun set. If at all possible, Kyran did not want to attempt befriending the wyverns while they were awake, alert, and flying. There was too much risk of things going wrong that way. For that reason, they had chosen to make their final approach after dark instead of waiting for tomorrow.
A few minutes later, Gaesin, Aiken, and Kyran joined the two women on the rock spur. Looking over the lip, Kyran saw that the flattened top of the precipice was empty. The open surface—so smooth it almost seemed as if the mountain had been sheared off there—was the size of a small runway.
His scrying had revealed that the wyverns used it for just that purpose: taking off and gliding down on the strip during the day. One end of the landing field fell away in a sheer cliff, while the other end was backed up against the mountain in which the lair’s entrance was located.
“Alright, everything looks as we expected,” whispered Kyran. “We will proceed with the plan.”
“You still don’t know how many of them are down in those tunnels?” asked Adra.
Kyran shook his head. The lair’s meandering tunnels had proved impossible to scry fully. In his attempts to follow the winding passageways with his magical sight, he had more often than not scryed solid rock. Eventually, he had given it up as a waste of essence and time. The tunnel network in this mountain peak was too extensive, and it would likely take days to scry out in its entirety.
What worried Adra was that Kyran would be entering the lair blind. He neither knew the lair’s layout, nor the numbers of wyverns inside. In the air, the creatures were indistinguishable from each other, and since they had never seemed to gather together during their flights, Kyran could only guess at their numbers.
“Kyran, are you sure you still want to go ahead with the plan?” asked Adra. “Perhaps it is better if we accompany you.”
“No,” replied Kyran firmly. “The plan is a good one. Let’s not change it now at the last minute. Besides, I will have Aiken to guard my back.”
Adra sighed. They had already had this argument many times prior. “Very well. We’ll wait here and keep watch as agreed.”
Kyran nodded. His eyes darted to Mirien. The whiesper’s eyes were cold and uncaring. She did not turn his way. It was no use trying to speak to her again. Her anger had not abated. Shoving aside further thought of Mirien, he turned to Aiken and said, “Go, brother.”
Diving into the earth, the bear swam downwards through the rock and emerged outside the tunnel entrance. Seeing that all remained quiet, Aiken signalled to Kyran that it was safe to come down.
Without further delay, Kyran pulled in strands of psi, propelled his body through the mindscape, and stepped out at the lair’s entrance. He crouched down and, with truesight, blend, and show hostiles active, studied the tunnel opening.
His player’s map was empty. Show hostiles revealed no hostiles nearby. Which meant the tunnel system was as deep as he feared, or the wyvern had stealth abilities that hid them from detection.
“All clear so far,” he said to the three keeping watch from up above. He crept to the tunnel mouth and peered in. The passageway plummeted nearly straight downwards. “You sense anything, brother?”
The bear shook his head.
“I’m going in,” he said.
“Good luck, Kyran,” whispered Gaesin.
Rising from his crouch, Kyran shifted. Opening the well of his consciousness, he slipped psi threads from his mind into his body, and when his entire form was suffused with violet energy, he pulled himself into the mindscape. Calling up the form of the worg, he imagined it in exacting detail: forelegs, hindlegs, bushy tail, shadow-grey eyes, blackened teeth, and finally sleek, midnight-black fur.
Once the image of his worg-self was complete and whole down to the smallest part, he let his elven-self fade back into his consciousness and dived into the new form. Cloaked in his new identity, he pushed his worg-self out of the mindscape.
Kyran has shifted into a worg.
Your equipped items have been stored in your inventory.
While wild shifted, all magical pathways are suppressed, and no magic may be performed. Active magical spells, truesight, blend, and show hostiles have dissipated.
Kyran’s physical attributes have changed due to his beastform.
Name: Kyran Seversan. Race: Worg (elf).
Combat level: 24. Civilian level: 23. Health: 288/288.
Stamina: 600/600. Will: 840/1020. Essence: 940/1200.
Attack: 29 (piercing), 49 (psi).
Defences: 19 (physical), 24 (psi), 24 (spell).
Additional traits and abilities:
Blocked-pathways: Cannot cast spells from any school of magic.
Hidden form: Your true form is concealed from others.
Inherited traits from worg-form: Diseased bite, rending bite, night stalkers, night hunters.
Kyran blinked. The world had taken on a new and startling clarity. He turned his head left and right, the gesture feeling strange as his neck swivelled oddly. He could pick out individual stones hundreds of metres away and see all the way back down the peak which they had climbed. His new vision, he realised, was many times better than his elven-self’s.
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And the smells. He wrinkled his nose delicately. Wafting up from the passageway was the musky odour of…reptile. The wyverns, he realised. Behind him, he could smell the three party members. Gaesin, stinking of sweat and anxiety, Adra with quivering curiosity, and Mirien with…dread. And from beside him, damp fur.
He swung his head to his right and stared into Aiken’s laughing eyes. “Hello, brother,” he said, tasting the bear’s amusement at his new form. For all the size of his new worg-self, Aiken still loomed large over him, which he sensed satisfied the bear to no end.
He chuckled, and the words came out a mixture of growl and whine. He smiled, and his mouth lolled open, tongue hanging out. This new form is going to take some getting used to, he thought.
In hindsight, he realised he should have practiced his shifted form before this. Too late for that now, he thought and inspected himself thoroughly. Lifting each paw, he set it back down, before wagging his tail, and flicking his ears experimentally.
“Kyran?” called Adra uncertainly over the battlegroup.
“Still here,” he said. “This new form is strange.”
“You make a handsome wolf,” she said, amusement threading her voice.
“Worg,” he growled in mock anger. “Much superior to any wolf.”
She laughed. “We shall see. Can you sense the wyverns?”
Kyran wrinkled his nose again. “Their smell is not the most pleasant, but yes, I think I can track them.”
“Can you pick out their individual scents?”
Kyran poked his head into the tunnel and sniffed in deeply. And immediately regretted it as his world exploded with a bewildering array of smells.
He threw his head down and sneezed. Then sneezed again. And again. His nose was aflame. Overcome by the overwhelming aromas, Kyran pawed frantically at his snout. From nearby, he sensed Aiken’s amusement. “You’re not helping, brother,” he said crossly, to which Aiken only laughed in his mind.
“Kyran, you alright?” asked Gaesin.
Sovereign Rising (The Gods' Game, Volume III): A LitRPG novel Page 26