Fortunately, that source of frustration is given a great outlet to be vented on, in the form of Carver and his own group of Adventurers, which hit the guild as they are in the middle of returning from a scavenging run at the fallen tower. Hitting them hard, the two groups have a chance to throw down in a messy forest battle, during which our hero, Lyrian, unfortunately gets mana drained to the point where he loses control of his hunger and ends up biting the big one. Despite that however, the group manages to put up a good enough fight that they’re all able to escape Carver and his goons with only minimal losses. But during that particular fight, they manage to come across a startling revelation, that the Adventurer has managed to align himself with an unknown group of orcs, something that worries everyone in Aldford.
Faced with a new threat on top of the one brewing under the town, Lyrian and the others find themselves pulled in multiple directions as they try to deal with everything at once, finding that despite their attack on them, Carver and his adventurers have effectively vanished. Doing their best to keep searching for them, the group is eventually forced to turn their full attention on the ruins after they’ve been fully excavated, their efforts revealing a massive underground complex buried deep within the earth. Diving into the place, they then have a dungeon crawl of near epic proportions as they explore the ancient Nafarrian ruin, finding that it is far from empty, even after all the centuries that it had been buried and locked away from sight. It’s during this delve that they encounter dozens of restless undead spirits belonging to the Nafarr, their specters having been tethered to the place, or more specifically to the mana and Æther empowering it. Fighting their way through them, the group eventually finds themselves in a battle with a massive security golem, a weathered and aged Nafarrian Sentinel that had once protected the installation.
Defeating it by the skin of their teeth, the group reaches the end of what survived the Nafarrian ruins and enters into a massive underground cavern they name The Twilight Grove, spotting the ruptured Ley Line flowing brightly in the distance. Filled with a plethora of strange looking plants and vicious creatures, they find themselves in an underground jungle, managing to last long enough inside it to attract the attention of its top apex predator.
The Beast.
Wiping out the group with the ease that we would swat a fly, the group then finds themselves dumped back into Aldford where they report what they’d seen and muster a call to all of the other Adventurers to descend down into the Grove and help clear it. So like all good Adventurers do when there’s a call to go forth and kill things for experience and loot. They answered, eagerly rushing into the underground ruin in search of adventure. From there, the next week turned into an endless grind of blood and mayhem as they worked to tame the underground jungle and the creatures within while trying to figure out how to seal the Ley Line. It’s during that time that Lyrian and the others start finding the Runestones that had survived whatever disaster had made the Grove, the strange artifacts the only remains of the Nafarrian magic that once tamed the Ley Line. So as they push through the place in search of the stones, they find the world once again turned upside down as a group of Adventurers, Ignis and his crew, happen to push a little too far, finding themselves accidently aggroing another wave of those Nafarrian ghosts that had made their home in the Æther.
Oh, and also kicking off a huge world event in the process as they trained the base camp that had been set up at the Grove’s entrance with a horde of angry ghosts.
Barely surviving being overrun by the attack, Lyrian and all of the other Adventurers of Aldford do their best to dig in and survive the spirits’ onslaught as they come up with a plan of action. Which based on the next Runestone that they’d discovered, was to go try and beard The Beast in its lair. Taking the time to prepare themselves, they all assemble themselves into a large raid before diving into the Grove in search of the massive creature, eventually reaching the sliced open patch of rock that it made its home in.
Which is about when everything goes off the rails in spectacular fashion.
Deciding that it is a perfect time to betray everyone, Ignis and his followers pick that moment to start attacking healers within the raid while simultaneously pulling The Beast early, causing it to charge everyone. Scrambling to deal with this, the raid barely manages to regroup from the surprise attack and win the day, defeating The Beast after an intense battle. But that’s only the start of their problems there, as before he was killed earlier in the battle, Ignis revealed to Lyrian that he’d been working with Carver all this time and that they had timed their betrayal to coincide with him attacking the ruins on his own. Armed with a new purpose, the raid then copies down the spell written across the Runestone before running in pursuit of Carver, who in all likelihood made a beeline towards the ruptured Ley Line. Blazing a path through the underground jungle, it doesn’t take long from there for the group to find and confront the bandit group of Adventurers, battling with them on the edge of a massive lake of Æther. It’s during this battle that Carver uses his power to twist the ancient Nafarrian spirits into a Shoggoth, hoping to use it to destroy both Lyrian and Aldford in one fell swoop.
What he doesn’t account for is the ritual that they’ve been slowly piecing together during their push through the Twilight Grove, both Lyrian and Halcyon managing to assemble the final bits of it together and cast it before they could be overwhelmed. Binding the mighty spell to the roots of the Ætherwarped oak tree from above, they manage to use it to seal the Ley Line and destroy the Shoggoth, saving the day at the last possible second.
Relieved that they’d managed to avoid a disaster of untold proportions, our heroes manage to have an entire nine or ten hours to themselves to rest and recover from their victory before their world is turned upside down again by Carver as he and his Dread Crew waste no time in retaliating in response to their earlier loss.
Which finally brings us to where we are now in Season Three…
Chapter 1
Sunday, April 7th, 2047 – 2:42 p.m.
The Plains
Time slowed as a wave of magic coursed through me, giving me a perfect view of the oncoming sword, the blackened metal blade slicing through the air at an almost glacial pace. Taking in the weapon’s path, I realized that there was no chance of me evading the attack, even in my heightened state.
Gritting my teeth at the pain to come, I threw my arm upward to intercept the blade, the sound of metal hitting metal drawing itself out into one long, incomprehensible note as it impacted my vambrace with bone-cracking force. Twisting my body to face my attacker, I thrust out with Splinter, turning just in time to guide its azure length deep into the armpit of the snarling half-orc. Wrenching the sword viciously within the adventurer’s flesh, I yanked the blade free, my legs already working to carry me past the man, who had yet to even register his failed attack, let alone his mortal wound. As quickly as it had begun, the magic flowing through me stopped, allowing time to regain its normal hold on me as I pushed my way past the half-orc.
“Urk!” I heard a pained gasp echo out from behind me, the sound of a body hitting the ground heavily a heartbeat later.
“Better luck next time,” I whispered quietly to the fallen adventurer as I began to move, the pain that I’d been expecting finally flaring through my arm and causing a low hiss to escape through my teeth.
There’s hardly anything left now. The thought slammed into me as I forced myself to scan my path for any other threats, my eyes playing over the war-torn landscape around me. Once a lush place full of life, the plains had been reduced to a near-endless field of smoldering embers and choking ash. The grass, the creatures, all gone. All because—
A loud thunderclap of magic from ahead interrupted my thoughts, my head turning towards the flash in time to see a pair of figures fall to the ground, my raid sense telling me that neither of my extended groupmates was going to rise again. Glancing around for the source of the magic, I spotted three rapidly moving figures, their attention h
aving shifted off their most recent victims.
And landing on me.
“Damn it,” I cursed, throwing up an arm to cover my face as a barrage of magic slammed into the ground before me, throwing a spray of burning dirt and ash into the air. “More stragglers.”
Pushing aside any thought of retreat, I launched myself directly towards my attackers, eager to put an end to their annoyance as fast as possible. Not expecting my aggressive move, I saw surprise appear on all three of their faces as I closed the distance, their expressions shifting into recognition as they realized who they had caught.
Which then rapidly morphed into fear.
With the world blurring into a sea of colors, I had an instant to savor the regret I saw on their faces as the space between us instantly vanished, and I reappeared directly in front of them, Splinter already moving through the air. Slashing upwards with all of my momentum behind me, the azure blade took the lead member of the trio directly in the hip, carving diagonally across his body until it reached the opposite shoulder, the thin robe-like armor on his body doing little to impede the sword’s progress.
A pained cry escaped the man’s lips as I finished my attack, my shoulder slamming into his chest a second later, sending him staggering into one of his companions behind him who reflexively tried to catch him. Not yet done, my free hand shot towards the adventurer’s exposed throat, a burning dagger coalescing into existence an instant before it plunged into flesh. Letting out a strangled gurgle, the attack proved to be too much for the man to take, and he finally lost his balance, his sudden shift in weight taking the groupmate struggling to catch him down to the ground with him.
“Get hi—” I heard one of attackers bark as I triggered a now-familiar spell, once more causing time to slow to a crawl and distorting all sound around me.
Turning my attention away from my earlier victim, I twisted my body towards the sound of the shouting voice, catching sight of an Eberian man as he slashed out towards me with a pair of short swords. Reacting to the attack as quickly as I could in my accelerated state, I managed to interpose Splinter in front of one of the blades, deflecting it harmlessly to the side. Yet there was little I could do for the second attack, feeling the blade scrape briefly across my armor before it managed to bite through and draw a long gash along my stomach and side.
Burying the beginnings of pain under a surge of adrenaline, I completed my turn towards the Eberian, Splinter already in motion as I lashed out, slicing the blade across the outstretched arm that had just wounded me. Almost instantly, I saw a line of blood appear from around Splinter’s edge as it sliced through flesh and tendons before grating on bone, the man’s hand going limp and causing the sword he was holding to fall free from his grasp.
Kicking the falling sword out of the adventurer’s reach as it fell, I swept Splinter back up to catch a reflexive swipe from his other blade, stopping it cold before it could reach me. Barely feeling the strain of blocking the blow through my arm, I effortlessly trapped the man’s blade with Splinter, pinning it in place and allowing me a clear shot at his face with my fist. Crackling with electricity, my hand connected with the side of the adventurer’s jaw, causing his head to snap backward viciously from the impact.
Pushing down on the sudden wave of hunger that rose from within me, I slid Splinter off the stunned man’s blade and used my enhanced speed to chop it into the side of the man’s neck. Dragging the blade across the exposed flesh once more, I felt the sword briefly grate across bone before it suddenly came free, a spray of red painting the air behind it. Sidestepping the blood before it could hit me, I shifted my attention away from the wounded man, dismissing him from my mind as quickly as I had the first, turning to look towards the sole remaining member of the trio.
Only to find a large azure puma standing over the savaged remains of the final groupmate, a feral expression written across the cat’s battle-worn face as his eyes met mine.
“Good,” I replied to the cat in a flat voice, looking at the bodies on the ground then up towards the horizon. “Where are the others?”
“Then that’s where we need to be,” I said, feeling my heart begin to race at the sounds of battle in the distance.
Running across the ash-filled plains together, my eyes couldn’t help but play across the war-torn landscape, once again shocked by how fast the plains had been reduced to such a state. In barely a week it had gone from lush and verdant grassland to a battlefield filled with death and carnage. Craters filled with dirt and ash dotted the plains everywhere I looked, remnants of the magic that had been thrown about during a battle or skirmish that I couldn’t even remember anymore.
Or don’t want to remember. The thought floated through my mind as we continued to run, a small hill finally coming into view, along with nearly two dozen figures lying in wait behind it. Crouching down as I approached, I saw several heads turn in Amaranth’s and my direction, wary eyes meeting mine until recognition set in. Not breaking our stride, we continued past the waiting adventurers and climbed up the hill, dropping down as we reached its apex where a single red-haired woman lay prone on her stomach. Crawling up beside her wordlessly, the distant thunderclaps of magic that I’d been hearing evolved into a deafening cacophony of screaming intermixed with the near-constant ring of metal on metal.
All of it coming from the massive battle taking place just before me.
Fighting in the channel of what may have once been the route of an ancient river were two large groups of adventurers, their ranks interlocked in a contest of blood and death, a constant storm of arrows and magic reigning high above. It was a scene that I had seen far too much of in the past days, and one that I knew I’d likely see again, even if this day ended in our favor.
“Lyrian.” Sierra’s tired voice greeted me as Amaranth and I arrived beside her, my gaze flashing to meet hers before shifting away and back onto the battle. “How’d it go?”
“The flank is clear,” I reported in the clearest voice I could manage, tasting ash in my mouth as I spoke. “But we took heavy losses. There were more of them than we were expecting. Almost too many.”
“Do they know we’re here?” Sierra asked in a concerned tone, no doubt having sensed our losses via raid sense while she and the others had carefully worked their way into position, able to do little to help us other than bide their time.
“No,” I answered, shaking my head as I watched the lines suddenly shift below, fresh attackers moving on both sides to take place of the dead and wounded. “If they did, they would have sent more—much more. At best, they may have a few stragglers left over that got past us, but certainly not enough to stop us, let alone threaten us with.”
“Fair enough,” Sierra replied, the three of us pausing to watch the battle below as the lines continued to shift. “How much longer do you think?”
“A minute, maybe two,” I said, seeing one of the lines begin to shrink away, giving ground in order to consolidate itself. “Drace seems to have it well under control.”
“He’s well-practiced,” Sierra stated. “We all are by now.”
Grunting in acknowledgment, we continued to stare at the unfolding battle below, watching the force continue its steady retreat, its ranks contracting tighter and tighter while the pursuing force’s ranks gradually spread out in an attempt to envelop it and pin it in place.
“This looks like it should be good enough,” Sierra said to me, her voice cold and emotionless as she spoke. “If we wait any longer to get moving, we might miss ou
r chance.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, struggling to take my eyes off the fighting below and followed the scout back down the hill.
Our return to the group needed no fanfare or announcement, everyone simply rising to their feet and drawing their weapons. Each of us knew what our role in this battle was and why we’d gone through all this trouble to ensure that we weren’t seen. This last week had brought us nothing but death and misery as we fought an eternal stalemate across the plains, losing ground one day only to retake it the next, then lose it once more. The plan today was to try and break the pattern that we’d found ourselves in, to find a way forward through the chaos we’d found ourselves thrust into.
Which will likely escalate this war if it ends up working, a pessimistic voice whispered in my ear, echoing the one doubt I still harbored. Shaking my head, I shoved the errant thought out of my head and instead focused my attention on the group, hearing Sierra’s crisp words fill the air.
“It’s time,” she stated in a confident voice, meeting the eyes of the waiting adventurers. “You all know what we need to do.”
Those few words were all that we needed to get everyone moving, their readiness honed to a razor’s edge and their nerves worn thin after spending so much time waiting on the sidelines while the rest of their companions fought and died. Barely seconds after Sierra’s words had left the air, I found myself on the other side of the hill with Amaranth sprinting by my side, the two of us leading the waiting force towards the battle. Abandoning any attempt at stealth, the distance between our two forces vanished rapidly as we targeted our approach towards the advancing adventurers’ rear.
Thundering across the ash-covered ground, my eyes easily found our target amidst the adventurers, the near-constant stream of magic surging upwards into the air, making it no secret to where the enemy mages were.
And where Amaranth and I needed to be.
Glory to the Brave (Ascend Online Book 4) Page 2