Shrugging off that train of thought for the useless dead end that it was, I instead turned my attention inwards towards the heart of the city where the weathered remains of what used to be an Irovian fortress stood. Towering over the city around it, there was little doubt that the place had been built with war in mind, the thick stone wall surrounding it giving it a formidable appearance despite the visible toll time had taken on it. Weathered, cracked, and even sporting some signs of ancient damage, the stone barrier encircled what I assumed was a large inner courtyard, whatever that it contained hidden from me despite my elevated vantage point. The only thing that I was able to see was the remains of a shattered citadel that rose just above the walls, something, be it the passage of time, or more likely, extreme violence, having caused a portion of it to collapse.
I wonder if the civil war that the Irovians fell into was responsible for damaging this place or if it was from their war with the Nafarr, I thought as I looked over the place, my eyes scanning over the distant cracks and missing chunks that I didn’t think could be explained by decay alone. Whatever the case though, it certainly looks like it took its toll. Same as it did to those ruins back in the Hartwyld. Not that any of that has stopped the orcs from moving in though. They look right at home here.
Staring onwards at the ruins for the next few minutes in silence, I did my best to commit what I saw to memory, in the feeble hope that it would maybe one day prove to be useful. I wasn’t sure where exactly the next few days, let alone weeks, would take us, but if we somehow managed to survive and turn things back in our favor, I had little doubt of what our end goal had to be. As long as Khudazal was occupied by the orcs, it would be a perpetual threat to us, leaving us with only one choice.
We had to destroy it.
Or failing that, we’ll have to rout the orcs badly enough that they’ll flee back north and stop being a threat to us, I added mentally as I continued to inspect the city. If at least for long enough for us to catch our breath and figure out what to do next. That warlord that Aryana mentioned, Krol, is likely going to be our next problem afterward. Especially if he has even more orcs at his beck and call. Or if not him, then that arakissi necromancer that he’s apparently allied himself with, Sthera—assuming we don’t take care of her sooner.
But I suppose we’re getting ahead of ourselves there, aren’t we? I asked myself with a slight frown, my attention shifting to the corner of my vision where a quest update alert still hung, the thing having appeared shortly after I’d reached my perch above Khudazal. We still have a long road ahead of us before that becomes something to worry about. Right now, you have more immediate things to worry about.
Letting out a slight sigh at that thought, I decided to call up the update once again to read through, my eye skimming through its contents until I reached the bottom.
War Quest Update! New Optional Objectives Discovered!
Journeying northward from Aldford and through the Hartwyld, you and your companions finally manage to reach the orc stronghold, Khudazal. But no sooner do you arrive on the outskirts of the city, on the edge of a massive druidic garden, when you find yourselves witness to a group of orc slavemasters terrorizing a group of slaves. Wisely choosing to stay hidden, you waited until the orcs left and made contact with the slaves, hoping to collect information on the region. Unfortunately, the initial contact with the slaves proves to be a difficult experience, some of them exhibiting extreme distrust toward outsiders.
Despite this challenge, however, you eventually managed to win the slaves over with your words, earning an audience with Aryana, one of the leaders of the resistance amongst the slaves who are desperately looking for a way to harm the orcs and escape their clutches. Speaking with her, you manage to gain a picture of what life is like within Khudazal as well as gain valuable intelligence about the orcs’ leadership. But before Aryana could completely finish briefing you, you were all interrupted by a dreadful message–one of the other resistance leaders has been captured, and the orc tribes around Khudazal have begun to mobilize, heading out westward, their most likely destination being Aldford itself.
Scrambling in the hours afterward to determine a plan of action going forward, you find yourselves with a number of opportunities before you on how best to strike at the orcs. But be sure to choose one quickly.
Because time is running out.
Objectives:
Find Khudazal: 1/1 (Complete)
Find Aldford’s Lost Settlers: 1/1 (Complete)
Kill Krol the Corruptor: 0/1
Kill Zhul the Shadoweater: 0/1
Kill Sthera the Deathspeaker: 0/1
Rescue Garr: 0/1
Rescue Senzin: 0/1
Rescue as many slaves as possible: 0/?
Blight the Southern Garden: 0/1
Blight the Eastern Garden: 0/1
Blight the Northern Garden: 0/1
Stop the Orc Invaders: 0/1
Nothing like a sense of urgency to get the blood flowing, I thought dryly as I finished reading the update, noting the sheer amount of options that lay before us. Some of them, such as finding and killing Krol and his lieutenants, I knew were already too far out of reach for us to worry about, if at least based on what Aryana had told us. That left us with the most obvious choice of blighting the orc gardens and ruining their food supply, which, if we succeeded in doing, would then drastically hinder the orcs’ ability to march on Aldford and afford us a chance to counterattack. But in order to do that, we’d need to somehow rescue both Garr and Senzin from wherever the orcs have taken them and hope that they’re both in good enough shape to finish what they started. If they aren’t, or if we can’t find them…
I let out a mental shrug as my thoughts trailed off once again and forced myself to reach into my pocket to pull out my ætherscope, remembering the reason why I’d climbed even higher up the tree.
Best to let Aryana and the others worry about that, I told myself as I pulled the bone wand free and clutched it tightly in my hand. They have their jobs and you have yours. Trust that they’ll sort it out before you start poking holes in things and getting yourself worked up.
Feeling that might be easier said than done, I did my best to listen to my subconscious and adjusted my balance before activating True Sight with my ætherscope in hand, the ability causing my vision to take on an azure hue. In the seconds that followed, I slowly began to see countless hints of magic appear in the distance throughout the city, showing first as vague and nebulous auras before becoming more distinct and easier to see.
Or at least they did everywhere in the city except for within the Irovian ruin at its heart, the broken citadel remaining perfectly dark in my vision, as if I hadn’t activated my ability at all.
Huh, that’s weird, I mused once everything had sharpened enough for me to focus, my eye shifting to fixate on the dead spot that was seemingly devoid of any magic at the center of Khudazal. There’s just…no magic there? I don’t think I’m too far away for it to be in range—
Flinching mid-thought, I was interrupted by a flash of crimson energy suddenly spreading outwards from amid the dead zone of magic, the pulse lasting for a second before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. However, no sooner did it do so did a ripple then pass throughout all the magical auras that surrounded the city, each of them rippling and bending as they were drawn inwards towards the central keep. Lasting for a handful of seconds afterward as the effect propagated outwards in a ring, the magical signatures rapidly stabilized afterward, resuming their normal shapes and glow as if nothing had happened.
Whoa, what was that? I exclaimed mentally, feeling my eyes widen as I stared towards the city, all my previous concerns and worries fading away in light of what I’d just witnessed. Did something just try pulling all of the magic surrounding the city towards it? Whatever it was, it happened so fast that I don’t know if I even saw it right. Everything still looks the same from what I can tell, and no one down there seems to be panicking about what just happened, bu
t does that mean that they don’t know it happened? Or that they’re already used to it?
My thoughts racing at the strange sight that I’d witnessed, I couldn’t help but spin up a variety of theories to explain what could have possibly caused what I’d seen. Starting with the most obvious, I considered that it could be something to do with the Irovian ruin itself, my thoughts immediately shifting towards the tower. That place had been designed to affect magic somehow, most likely by suppressing its effects through the annulment sphere that had been housed within it.
Maybe this citadel has a similar function that managed to survive all this time? I wondered eagerly as I focused my attention on the place, curious to see if the effect repeated itself. If they were ready to fight the Nafarr, they must have had a way to negate their magic. But then again…those corrupted spirits that the orcs summoned are capable of eating magic, too. Maybe I’m seeing something that they’re responsible for? Though what it could be, I don’t know. Even with True Sight, I have a hard enough time even spotting those things up close, let alone spotting any of them this far away. But they kind of do look like distorted blurs or even holes that absorb any and all nearby magic. Whatever this thing here is…it’s just on a bigger scale. Maybe it’s being caused by a larger spirit?
Shivering at that final thought, I shook my head to rid the idea from my mind and instead focused my attention back on the city itself, trying to see if there was anything that might have changed. Unfortunately, given just how recently I’d started my initial scan, I wasn’t familiar enough with the various magical auras to tell with complete certainty.
Which meant I only had one choice.
Chapter 41
“…it did it again six more times over the next two hours, but not on any sort of consistent schedule that I could see. Sometimes they happened right after another, other times it was nearly an hour before I saw it again,” I explained, glancing between Aryana and the group around me as I spoke, still feeling relieved to finally have my feet back on solid ground.
We’d all managed to regroup back in our original meeting spot after following through on our various tasks throughout Khudazal and had begun the process of catching one another up on our experiences. Given my discovery, however, and its rather strange nature, it had quickly moved to dominate the conversation, Aryana and her entourage reacting to it with a fair bit of surprise.
And, of course, worry.
“But despite that,” I continued, glancing around the circle as I spoke, “I didn’t notice it really do anything to the various wards and magical signatures throughout the city itself beyond cause a brief ripple every time it flared up. The one thing I noticed is that whatever the flash is, it’s strongest the closest to the citadel itself and fades the farther out it goes. Enough so that the magical auras on the city’s edge weren’t even affected.”
“That’s all…so strange,” Aryana replied as I finished speaking, the resistance leader having been listening with rapt attention since I broached the topic. “In all my time here, none of us have noticed anything like what you’ve just said, nor did our spellcasters report any odd feelings within the city. I can think of several of them alone that would have been responsible for managing some of the wards that you saw within the city, and they’ve never noticed a thing.”
“Then maybe it’s an after effect of something Irovian in the keep like Lyr said?” Constantine suggested. “His earlier theory about it being something they might have used against the Nafarr ages ago sounds plausible. And we all know firsthand that their magical artifacts and technology have an uncanny tendency to somehow survive the centuries since their fall and find ways to inconvenience us.”
“Assuming what it is doing is inconveniencing anything at all,” Halcyon pointed out, his attention shifting over towards Aryana. “I don’t suppose any of your people have seen anything interesting in the citadel there regarding its old owners? I wouldn’t think that the orcs would usually be the type to fiddle with anything that they might have found, but with what you’ve told us about them so far…”
“I am afraid I don’t know,” the resistance leader replied, shaking her head at the mage’s question. “The citadel has been a place most strictly off-limits to all slaves and even most orcs unless specifically summoned since I arrived. The few slaves who are summoned to serve there are never seen leaving it alive again.”
Aryana paused as a thoughtful expression crossed her face. “Actually, now that think of it, they aren’t even seen leaving dead. Any slaves that we’ve seen pass beyond the citadel’s walls have simply vanished afterward.”
“Well that’s not creepy or suspicious at all,” Kilgore grunted in a wistful tone. “I wonder what the hell they’re doing in there then? That’s two weird things going on there that we know of right off the bat.”
“A question we’ve asked ourselves many times,” Aryana answered with a resigned shrug. “But I am afraid we’ve found no answers thus far.”
“I imagine that it’s nothing good if our streak of luck has anything to say about it,” I stated, not having truly expected to find an easy answer for the mystery I’d found, assuming there even was one in the first place. “But I guess that’s a problem for the future, assuming we have a future to worry about. Were you able to find out exactly what happened to the others?”
“I did, sort of,” Aryana replied with a sigh, her expression tightening as the subject, and by extension everyone’s attention, shifted over towards her. “And I am afraid I have a few crumbs of good news to share, along with a whole bunch more of bad news to follow afterward.”
“Does news usually come any other way?” Constantine asked in a dry tone as we all edged in a little closer to the woman, eager to hear what she had to say.
“Perhaps to other more fortunate people,” the woman replied offhandedly before pausing to take a quick breath and collect her thoughts. “Anyway, the good news that I have to share is that all of those who were taken earlier this morning are still alive. Or perhaps I should say were still alive as of a couple hours ago when they were taken to the same camp that your familiar tracked Garr and Arcturus to.”
“That’s a relief, then!” I exclaimed as my attention dropped to Amaranth beside me, a hand reaching out to give him a reassuring pat.
After splitting up from us, he had managed to follow the group of orc slavemasters to a large encampment on the southern side of Khudazal where the majority of the slaves were kept and housed when not working. Apparently, the orcs had trust issues when it came to the slaves being housed inside the city itself and instead had concentrated them into three large camps separate from it, one for each of their massive gardens where they could be better watched. But as I thought about that particular design, I wondered why Senzin would have been taken to the camp closer to us, rather than the one that supported the eastern garden, saying as much to Aryana.
“I’m afraid that is where our bad news begins,” she answered after I finished posing my question. “For whatever reason, the orcs have chosen to take every single person that they have rounded up today to the southern camp, regardless of which home camp they may normally belong to. I do not know if it is because they are looking to put each of them to the question in front of one another or simply to interrogate them all together easier at once.
“But what I do know,” Aryana continued, placing a special emphasis on the word, “is that other adventurers belonging to the Dread Crew were seen with the orcs and in the camps themselves helping them round up the slaves.”
“Ah, shit,” I cursed, several others in the group echoing out with similar sentiments as they realiz
ed what that meant for us. “Do you know how many of them there were?”
“At least a handful, but beyond that no,” Aryana answered back with a shake of her head. “The slave I spoke to was somewhat anxious at seeing them and did not linger any longer than they had to after spotting them.”
“Can’t blame them on that,” Cassius grunted, earning several sympathetic sounds from amid our two groups. “Especially not after what they’ve done.”
“No, we certainly can’t,” Aryana agreed. “However, despite that, the slave was able to confirm that Garr, Arcturus, and several other gronn were all taken to a prison on the eastern side of the camp together for questioning.”
“Well, that’s useful to know,” Kilgore commented. “Maybe even more useful than getting a total count on the Dread Crew. At least we know where they are.”
“For now at least,” Aryana said in a cautious tone. “We cannot assume that they won’t be moved over the course of the day depending on what the orcs or these adventurers have in mind for them. Unfortunately too, we do not know where Senzin was taken once he arrived in the camp. The only scrap of information that I was able to gather about him was a rumor that he’d been involved in an altercation of some sort, one that possibly resulted in the death of several of Krol’s arakissi followers.”
“Possibly?” Cassius repeated as he seized on the word. “What does that mean? If he killed someone there would be bodies, wouldn’t there? What’s to guess at?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Aryana answered, traces of frustration appearing on her face. “The slave that I spoke to had heard of the incident from another, who again only knew of it second or third hand. I mention it to you all because when Senzin was seen being taken to the camp, there were several accounts of him being seen covered in blood. Blood that wasn’t his own.”
“Shit, so then if he did kill someone, or several someones for that matter, what does that mean for him?” I asked, feeling a heightened sense of urgency at the news. “Are they going to execute him then? Would him being Needed save him from that?”
Glory to the Brave (Ascend Online Book 4) Page 52