by G. D. Penman
There had to be more to this.
“If it’s so dangerous, why are you sending two brand-new players out to face it?” Martin asked.
“If not you, then who? My broken guards? That zealot Khargen and his wild-eyed disciples? Someone must slay the creature if Beachhead is to survive.” Culvair’s head snapped around again, his words coming faster and faster. “Your companion came to me, desperate to gain access to the deeps below. I told her that she was not ready. I warned her that her strength would falter in the face of the foes that will meet you. She would not believe me either. So I offered her this poisoned chalice. If she can defeat the Night Ravager, I will give her my blessing and turn over the Deep Key that you require to delve further into Strata.”
That was the moment Lindsay chose to stroll up the stairs. She squawked at him.
“Come on! You must be done jabbering now. Can we please get going?”
She grabbed Martin’s tail and started dragging him away. Holding onto the barrier with both hands, he squeaked out, “Just one last question. Why is this Ravager up here if it usually sticks to the lower levels?”
Culvair had turned his back on them once more.
“Who can say for certain? The ecosystem of Strata is complex. Perhaps some larger and more fearsome monster has laid claim to its hunting grounds. Perhaps it is simply seeking out easier prey. The Deep Gates only prevent passage when you are descending. It could have strolled up through forty deeps to get here and we would never know why.”
Martin lost his grip. Scrambling to stay in place, he called back to Lindsay, “Hold on. Did he just say ecosystem?”
Lindsay just kept on tugging. “Nope. Don’t care. Boring. Murder time. Come on. Let’s go, move it.”
He managed to rescue his tail from her feathered grasp by the time they reached the marketplace. Then he spitefully delayed her for just long enough to exchange the junk items he’d harvested from the pig for some silver. Probably less than he would have gotten if he wasn’t Murovan, but he certainly wasn’t going to trust Lindsay to handle the money. They didn’t need a repeat of the pink dye incident.
Without any means of identifying the smoldering mushrooms – or, more importantly, appraising their value – he tucked them back into his empty inventory and forgot about them all over again.
Judging by the prices of the few weapons for sale in town, he had made very little money. That, or the in-game economy was just as skewed as the real world one that had grown up around the game. But there wasn’t much time to consider it. Lindsay was on the verge of bodily dragging him out of town.
Whatever jibes the guards at the gate flung his way went right over Martin’s head, both because he was lost in thought and because now there was an edge of pity to his feelings towards them.
These were the crusaders who were too afraid to crusade. It was hard to take their insults to heart when he knew how pathetic they were.
The word ‘ecosystem’ wasn’t something Martin had ever expected to hear coming out of any NPC’s mouth in a fantasy game. It had a lot of implications attached to it.
If this game had its own internal ecology, with the different monsters all interacting with each other, moving into territory when it was abandoned or brutalizing weaker monsters to take their prime real estate, that would explain why there was no information online about the different deeps of Strata.
They would be constantly changing. Higher-level enemies would constantly be moving upwards to the easier prey of the low-level players. It was like players and monsters were spawning at opposite ends of the dungeon and racing each other to get to the other end first. No wonder nobody could make it past the middle deeps; they must have been a warzone of mid-level players and mid-level monsters both trying to get by.
Martin was only drawn out of his reverie when Lindsay patted him on the top of the head. He’d been so lost in thought that he’d just followed her through the twists and turns of unmapped tunnels without a second thought.
Lindsay was bouncing up and down on the spot.
“Dude. This is it.”
He stared at it for a moment before answering.
“What… what am I looking at here?”
Set into the raw stone of the cave floor was a perfect circle of solid steel, polished until it reflected Lindsay’s torchlight. Around the outside of the circle was a raised rim, once again burnished completely smooth with the exception of one keyhole, set right by their feet.
“This is the Deep Gate. Every deep has one. They’re all locked until you get that specific deep’s key. How are you not up to speed on this already?”
He grumbled, “Because someone drags me away by the tail every time I try to talk to an NPC to find out what’s going on?”
Lindsay leaned her head on his shoulder and cackled. “You love it.”
Crouching down to look at the keyhole more closely, he asked, “So where do we get these keys?”
“Uh, I think it’s different in different places, but normally we just have to complete a special quest or beat some sort of boss monster. You know, business as usual. Oh, and I think there are meant to be some special gates that will jump you more than one level? Everyone was pretty vague on that part.”
He stood up again and met her smirk with a smile of his own.
“All right, then. Let’s go find the monster that makes Captain Cobra crap himself.”
Ten
Blacker Than Night
The hunt for the Night Ravager was never going to be simple. It had evaded the guards of Beachhead for weeks already, and the terrain was very much in favor of a creature trying to hide.
The endless warren of tunnels stretching out from the central cavern twisted and turned, full of dead ends and false trails, and the constant clatter of other players ruined any chance at the element of surprise.
Beyond the bustling town and the encounter in the Murovan camp they hadn’t encountered too many other players so far, and those they did pass in the tunnels seemed too intent on their own quests to give the two of them much more than a cursory glance.
Most of them were a couple of levels above Martin; people who had been lingering here despite the call of the deeps below. It seemed unlikely that literally everyone was a coward, or that they hadn’t heard about the prize at the end, so he concluded that finding Deep Keys really wasn’t as straightforward as Lindsay was making it out to be.
It would be so like her to find an NPC and badger them so hard that they gave her an impossible quest just to get rid of her. Martin already had concerns about rushing through the game too quickly and never having time to upgrade their equipment or achieve the proper level.
Maybe they should have hunted around town for alternate quest givers. Judging by all the dead pigs and pillaged mushrooms they came across in their travels, there was definitely at least one other starter quest out there.
At one point, Martin caught sight of a black-furred Wulvan that he was quite sure was Dmitri, born back into the world to be a nuisance all over again. But like all the other adventurers out here in the tunnels, he was gone without a word, hurried along by the rest of his group before Martin could say a word.
Time slipped away from them as they roamed up and down tunnel after tunnel, slowly filling out their map but losing precious moments of game-time with each step. Lindsay’s eyes roamed over every surface, desperate for a clue.
Meanwhile, Martin’s attentions had turned inward. This Night Ravager was an apex predator, from the way that Culvair had so briefly described it. Perfectly adapted to stalking and hunting prey through the maze of tunnels that made up a dungeon. There was no way they were going to find it just by traipsing back and forth all night.
“We need to split up.”
Martin didn’t even realize he was speaking until the words were already out of his mouth.
“What? Have you never seen a horror movie? You never split up. Don’t split the party. Rule number one.” Lindsay prodded at a pig corpse that had been
kicked into the corner, hoping for claw marks on its hide instead of the usual sword slashes.
Martin snapped his fingers. He relished the soft leathery feel of his new skin.
“Exactly. Monsters don’t like crowds. They like easy pickings. Lost and lonely wanderers. I’m not crazy. I’m not proposing that you actually go anywhere. You’ve got stealth; you should be using it.”
“Wait.” Lindsay glanced back at him. “You want to be bait?”
Martin shrugged. “I’m the one clunking around in armor. I’m the one who’s snack-sized. It makes sense to me.”
“Okay, first off, ‘Snack-size’ is now your new nickname. Second, this isn’t even close to your worst plan.”
There was a hint of musical laughter in her voice. Just a little touch of amusement that told Martin there wasn’t going to be any further argument.
Lindsay soon faded out of sight as they rounded the next bend, and before long he had almost forgotten she was there at all. It was entirely possible that she wasn’t. For all he knew, she’d got distracted by something shiny down some side-branch of the tunnel and abandoned him immediately. She wasn’t exactly known for her attention span.
He could really have been alone in the dark with whatever was lurking just out of sight. The monsters they’d encountered so far in Strata hadn’t exactly been terrifying, and for all he knew, this Night Ravager wasn’t going to make much of an impression either, but an active imagination was a terrible thing.
Pitch-black tunnels provided nothing to distract him. The echo of every footstep had him twitching. The sound of his own breathing seemed almost deafening when he was straining every sense for even the slightest hint of the monster in the dark.
He caught the scent of it first. Before he heard a sound or saw any sign, there was a metallic tinge to the air. A coppery tang that reminded him of the raw meat his mother used to buy from the store.
Blood.
He lingered in the tunnel, unwilling to move his feet, but eventually curiosity overcame dread and he followed his nose.
It did not take long for him to find the smell’s source. There were gore-sticky feathers scattered all around the little volcanic bubble of a cave that he’d arrived at. For a brief, terrifying second, he thought it was Lindsay. It was only on closer examination that he realized these feathers were gray and white rather than Lindsay’s black. A Corvan, but not his Corvan.
He slipped his sword out of its sheath and crept further out from the dubious safety of the tunnel mouth. The other player’s body lay in a broken heap against the far wall, mauled beyond recognition.
There were two other tunnels leading away. With a tremor in his hand, he reached down to touch the corpse. It was still warm. The blood was still oozing out under his fingertips. Whatever killed this guy was likely still nearby.
“Lindsay. Keep your eyes open.” Martin had tried to shout, but it came out barely louder than a whisper from his dry mouth. “I really hope you’re still here.”
The dark tunnels ahead took on a new, sinister cast as Martin crept his way forward. Before, he had been on edge, but now the fur felt like it was trying to climb off his skin. Every echo of his own footsteps had him jerking his head around.
Yawning open like some great mouth, the tunnel spread out into another cave just as suddenly as it had the last. There was no decorative arrangement of feathers this time. Just the constant encroaching darkness everywhere Martin looked.
A dozen more tunnels branched out from this hub, an endless maze that could have hidden any number of monsters.
Damn it.
Martin was starting to suspect that he wasn’t the delicious treat he’d thought he was. Maybe even Night Ravagers turned their noses up at rat-men. He rolled his eyes and then tried to decide on another tunnel to follow.
There was no warning growl. No announcement that the fight had started. One moment Martin was staring out at the empty tunnels and the next the Ravager was coming.
Nothing so big should have moved that fast. It didn’t just run, it hooked into the tunnel walls with all four of its arms and flung itself forward, metallic claws shrieking and scarring the stone. Martin let out a little bleat of terror and dove to one side as the titanic mass of muscle plowed right past him into the wall.
[MISS]
Whatever his imagination had conjured up couldn’t match the thing in front of him. He could barely make out the shape of it in the darkness and the cramped conditions. Beyond its body having four arms and passing for vaguely humanoid, most of the bigger picture was lost on Martin.
Only fine details stood out to him in his panic. The sinews and exposed muscles rippling across the creature’s surface. Rich black oil seemed to be leaking from the crevasses between those wiry bundles, coating the whole surface in a solid slick coating.
Now that they were close enough to touch, the creature’s stench washed over Martin. Sharp and acrid, cloying and strangely normal. Martin couldn’t quite place it, but it was intimately familiar.
When it turned, the jagged, chaotic tangle of metallic-tinted tusks and fangs hanging out of the Ravager’s mouth swept right past Martin’s face.
That mouth was not made for eating. The rust-tinted teeth would have gotten in the way. It was a weapon. The whole creature was a living weapon.
Arrayed around that awful mouth like a strange constellation were six glowing green eyes. They narrowed as the Ravager focused on him.
It closed the distance and spread its arms wide, like it was welcoming Martin in for a hug. He was almost drawn into its embrace before Lindsay’s voice cut through the darkness.
“Hit it!”
Martin snapped out of his paralyzed terror, and with all the poise of a toddler being pursued by a wasp, he hit it.
[Night Ravager suffers 4 slashing damage]
Black oil flooded in to the scratch on its hide, closing over it before Martin had more than a glimpse of the raw red flesh below. He hoped that was just a visual effect and this thing wasn’t going to just regenerate whatever damage he dealt it.
The Ravager’s jaws opened wide as it reared back, those horrific teeth spreading open like a blossoming flower of death. The stupid joke about being bite-sized ran through Martin’s mind, now turning his guts to water instead of being vaguely unamusing.
When it lunged for him again, he leapt backwards, crashing off a wall and tumbling into the waiting mouth of a tunnel.
[Skaife suffers 2 blunt environmental damage]
Lindsay leapt onto the Ravager’s back the moment it turned to chase Martin. Both daggers hammered home with wet thuds that reverberated around the strangely silent cave.
[SNEAK ATTACK FOR DOUBLE DAMAGE]
[Night Ravager suffers 38 piercing damage]
It didn’t even flinch. It barely even seemed to notice her. The Night Ravager was single-minded in its pursuit.
Martin managed to find his feet and hold out his sword in both shaking hands. Time seemed to slow as the Ravager bounded towards him. His brain was finally starting to spin into action. It was a Night Ravager. A demon of darkness, according to Culvair. Everything he needed to know was right there. Martin concentrated on Celestial Strike.
His sword lit up, illuminating the whole chamber and giving him an entirely too-clear view of the hideous Ravager, and Lindsay still dangling off its back. It flinched away from the light, the charge faltering. With a savage bark of joy, Martin plunged the glowing sword into the center of the Ravager’s mass.
[Night Ravager suffers 6 piercing damage]
[ELEMENTAL WEAKNESS: DOUBLE DAMAGE]
[Night Ravager suffers 12 light damage]
The oil bubbled away from the light and there was the first hint of real red blood. But as soon as the damage was dealt, the light within the sword faded away and the oil came roiling back to cover the wound. It was all Martin could do to wrench his sword free before it was enveloped too.
He’d expected a scream, a roar of pain, anything to make this inhuman monstr
osity seem more human, more mortal, but it didn’t make a sound. There wasn’t even a grunt of effort when it swung its claws and batted him to the ground like he was nothing.
[Skaife suffers 31 slashing damage]
For one moment that seemed to stretch on forever, all he could feel was numb. There should have been pain. He had heard the dreadful claws rattling across the bones in his chest and he was slick with blood.
How was he still moving? How was he even conscious? He slipped in his own blood as he tried to find his footing again. Two thirds of his health gone in a single casual swipe of its claws. They really were outclassed here.
[Night Ravager suffers 19 piercing damage]
That wasn’t stopping Lindsay. She wouldn’t go down without a fight, even if it was a hopeless waste of time and resources. In the midst of everything else, she’d managed to scramble forward on the Ravager’s slick hide and hammer her daggers back down into what might have been considered its neck, if it were only a little thinner.
That determination was contagious. All they needed was a little more time. The creature was completely ignoring Lindsay, and as long as it kept underestimating her, she’d keep whittling away at its health. It didn’t matter how deep the Ravager’s health pool was, eventually she’d empty it. All Martin had to do was keep it busy.
He quickly cast Healing Touch on himself as he wobbled to his feet in the tunnel mouth.
[Skaife recovers 9 health]
It wasn’t much, but the brief flare of golden light from his hand was enough to make the Ravager flinch again. Every moment it wasn’t ripping him to pieces was a win. Martin rolled his little sloped shoulders, feeling the bones grating together inside him where the healing magic hadn’t quite reached. They could still win.