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Lord Sorcerer: Singularity Online: Book 3

Page 2

by Kyle Johnson


  The second hyena on his left jerked its feet loose of the tangling roots and tried to bound out of the area of Rhys’ Entangle Spell, but Geltheriel suddenly appeared from the shadows behind it. She repeated her earlier attack, although this time she only struck a single blow with her regular blade, followed by the shadowy copy that bit deeply into the back of the hyena’s legs. Once again, the creature’s hind legs collapsed beneath it, this time with its tendons severed, and the Shadedancer was easily able to dispatch it.

  The two on Aranos’ right were badly cut and bleeding by his Air Web but were making their way toward the edge of the Spell. The Web did minor damage to those within it each second and was great for handling large numbers of small, weak creatures, but it didn’t do enough damage to seriously harm larger and stronger ones like these. Rather than speaking aloud, Aranos sent a quick mental command to Silma through their Soul Bond, and the armored fenrin whirled about and placed herself in front of the remaining pair just as they broke free from his restraint. Aranos called up a cold surge of void mana, wincing as the inimical energies sapped a tiny bit of his LP in their passing. He wrapped the void mana around one of the hyenas, halting it in its tracks as it was encased in his Void Prison Spell. The hyena struggled to move, but the void mana surrounding it cancelled the energy of its motions, and it was held fast.

  Silma slid gracefully out of the way of the hyena’s lunge and snapped at it, slashing its face and neck with her glowing fangs. The monster flinched away, and the wolf bowled it over as it stepped off-balance. The hyena fell onto its back and attempted to whip itself back to its feet, but Silma’s jaws fastened around its throat and pinned it down. The hyena gurgled and thrashed, its claws scratching ineffectually against the fenrin’s armor as its life bled out in her relentless grip. After several moments, the beast stilled, and Silma released the corpse. Aranos freed the second creature from his prison, allowing Silma to strike it, and it fared no better than its partner had against the huge wolf.

  The last of the hyenas still tussled fruitlessly with Saphielle, who was keeping it occupied while the others dealt with the rest of the attackers. Now that the rest of the creatures had been slain, though, the woman drew back her spear and lunged forward, impaling the hyena through its open maw. The spearpoint slid deep into the monster, lodging within it, but Saphielle continued her thrust, shoving the hyena backward. A moment later, the spear burst from the hyena’s back in a spray of blood and gore. The horribly wounded beast wasn’t dead, though, and it charged up the Warrior’s spear shaft, clamping its jaws onto her armored fist as she struggled to recover her balance.

  Before the hyena could do more damage to the woman, Geltheriel darted from the shadows and thrust into its throat, ripping her blade free and emptying its lifeblood onto the ground. The combined damage from spear and blade was too much for the hyena’s dwindling LP to overcome, and it died, still impaled on Saphielle’s spear.

  The woman shook her head as she jerked her weapon free. “Every time I use that Ability, I recall why I dislike using it,” she said with a grimace, eyeing her blood-stained weapon. Bits of flash and chunks of organ meat clung to the weapon’s haft, and she produced a waterskin and rag to begin wiping the shaft down.

  “It is somewhat messy,” Rhys agreed. “One might imagine that the impisa disliked your using it far more, though.”

  “Do not be foolish, Druid,” the woman replied dismissively. “It has nothing to do with cleanliness. Impale is a powerful attack, but it drastically lowers my ability to defend for a short time.” She held up her left arm, showing the dented vambrace on her forearm. “Impisas, as you certainly know, can crush bone and armor equally with their bite, and now I must have this piece repaired. That is why I dislike using that Ability, despite its obvious effectiveness.”

  Rhys let the woman’s comments slide right off him; everyone in the party was used to Saphielle’s abruptness by now. Her Charisma was abysmal and refused to go up despite any of the training she’d undergone for it. That still threw Aranos a bit, since the woman was very pretty, with electric-blue hair, porcelain skin, delicate features, and an immense air of confidence. In this game, though, Charisma had little to do with appearance and everything to do with your ability to influence others.

  “Yeah, I can see why you don’t use it a lot,” the Sorcerer spoke up. “You looked kind of flat-footed toward the end of that.”

  “Indeed, Redeemer, that is surprisingly perceptive of you,” the guardswoman replied in a pleased voice. “However, the Overextended debuff did not last so long as it might have, thanks to the timely intervention of your Oathbound.”

  He looked around at the seven mounds of fur that were the remains of their attackers, his Beast Lore Skill kicking in. “Okay, wait, so these are called impisas?”

  Rhys snorted, and Geltheriel sighed. Saphielle just shook her head. “Gaining the Inspection Skill must be your next priority, Redeemer. Even children possess this Skill, as do the Travelers I have been training. How do you not, among your myriad other Skills?”

  Aranos shrugged. “No one taught me, and I’ve never tried to work it out myself. There’s always been something more important to do, really.”

  “You have also always had another to cover for your lack of ability, Oathbinder,” Geltheriel added with a smile. “Perhaps I have coddled you too much and been too concerned for your obvious limitations.”

  “Then I will take that task upon myself,” Saphielle said decisively. “I understand that it is appropriate that we spend time together in any case, so we can use that time productively.”

  Aranos flushed slightly; Saphielle had decided that Aranos was going to date her, which had so far mostly consisted of her arranging when and how they should spend time together. So far, he hadn’t minded; the young woman was attractive, after all, and he did enjoy her company. However, he also wasn’t comfortable with how aggressive she was being and realized that at some point, he was going to have to sit her down and explain that she didn’t just get to decide things for both of them.

  “What I was going to say,” he finally continued, “was that my Beast Lore says that these things don’t usually come near elven lands because they’re cowards and scavengers. It doesn’t tell me if they’re worth Harvesting, if there’s a bounty for them, or why they would attack us like that, though.”

  “There is no bounty, as they are not considered a danger, for the reasons you have stated,” Geltheriel frowned. “As well, you are correct that their behavior was odd, Oathbinder. I have never seen a pack attack so ferociously. As a rule, they flee from any determined resistance and follow more dangerous predators, hoping to steal a kill or feast upon remains. They can eat almost anything; the jaws that crumple armor can crack bone with ease, and we have never discovered one that died of poison or disease. There is a mystery here.”

  Aranos sighed. “Well, it’s a mystery that someone else can solve,” he said firmly. “We’re leaving for Antas tomorrow after our morning training.” He glanced at Rhys and Saphielle, his gaze questioning. “Did you find out if you can join us?”

  “I will be traveling with you, of course,” Saphielle said dismissively. “I explained your mission to Lady Wynathra and that without me, you would be likely to fail. She knows much of the dangers of the High Roads, as she traveled them as a youth in one of our aborted attempts to free the Citadel of Cendarta. She promised to gather as much information and as many maps as possible for our trip, which will be enormously helpful, since none of us have traveled the Roads before.”

  Aranos nodded and turned to Rhys, who gave a half-smile. “Grandmaster Kylantha was, at first, loath to allow me to leave the Stronghold. However, I was able through reason, logic, and diplomacy to persuade her to change her mind.” Aranos looked calmly at the Druid as he spoke; the Sorcerer’s Scent Ability allowed him to Track using nothing but his nose. It also let him pick up certain emotions in others, and right now, he was detecting a strong stench of deception.

  “
Uh-huh,” he said evenly. “And what really happened?”

  “As I have heard, he threw quite the spectacular tantrum,” Geltheriel grinned. “I understand there was a great deal of begging, pleading, and tears involved, as well.”

  “I have no idea to what you might be referring,” Rhys said calmly, although Aranos could see the smile hiding in his eyes. “Yes, it is true that my plea was somewhat…impassioned, but…”

  “You cried like a baby,” Aranos chuckled. “Come on, admit it!”

  “I did no such thing. However, the result was that the Grandmaster not only gave me permission to go with you, she insisted I do so and even told me that, when I arrive tomorrow, the House of the Sickle will have provided certain potions and elixirs that will aid us in our travels, as I do not believe any of us possess the Alchemy Skill.”

  “His Avowed does, although she despises its use and thus has likely not employed it in years,” Saphielle corrected. She and Geltheriel and grown up together, so naturally Saphielle knew of Geltheriel’s early training in Alchemy. “In which case it will still be wise to purchase extras before we travel.”

  “Uncle Durlan has made such arrangements,” Geltheriel nodded. “House Meluiben is still the preeminent producer of alchemical wares in Eredain, and my sister is providing him what we may need at a significant discount.”

  Aranos shook his head; Durlan had already saved his bacon earlier that day, and now he’d anticipated their needs for their journey. To be honest, the diminutive shopkeeper seemed to be the elven version of a concierge or the fixers he’d seen in crime dramas. He’d salvaged what had started as a pretty lousy day, one that for the most part, had just gotten worse.

  Most of that stemmed from Aranos’ newly minted Title, “Lord Evenshade”.

  Aranos knew he had no reason to be unhappy. The day before, he’d finished unmasking an elf Patriarch who’d killed several elders of other families and stole their memories, using them to create slave brands and collars to imprison other elves. The Stronghold had been beyond grateful for that service, and his new Title of Lord Evenshade was one of the gifts he’d been granted in exchange for that. He’d gotten lands to manage, a fancy, new manor house, and servants that came attached to it. He’d even discovered that his new House came with a small cache of mana crystals, meaning that he could train with them at any time, rather than having to visit the House of Stars to improve his Wisdom and Intelligence.

  Really, if anything, his new Title and the accoutrements that came with it should have made him ecstatic. After all, he was the first player in Singularity Online to be granted a patent of nobility, which let him pick a couple of free Perks. Plus, when Golloron, the Elder of the Stronghold of Eredain, had disbanded House Exxidor after their Patriarch had enslaved the entire city, he had commanded the members of that House to leave behind everything except the basest necessities. All of that had been given to Aranos when Golloron had named him Patriarch, so the Sorcerer’s House was starting out with a fair bit of land, properties, and possessions. And yet, it had all left him…frustrated.

  He’d woken up that morning in his new bedroom in his new estate, both inherited from the now-defunct House Exxidor. He’d been excited to start the day – he had an entire day of training and preparation for the journey to Antas planned out – at least, until he stepped out of his room and found Lorsan waiting for him.

  Lorsan was a lanky, bronze-haired elf whose face never seemed to show any change of expression or sign of emotion. He had a voice that was smooth, mellow, and should have been calming but somehow managed to grate on Aranos’ nerves. He called himself a majordomo, but Aranos simply thought of him as an administrative assistant, or perhaps a supervisor. Standing just outside the door with a sheaf of papers, the elf almost seemed like he’d spent the night there, waiting for Aranos to emerge. For all the Sorcerer knew, that’s exactly what the officious man had done.

  “Good morning, my Lord,” the elf bowed his head to Aranos deferentially. “I trust that your slumber was sound?”

  “I spent all night meditating, so I guess that counts as sound,” Aranos shrugged. “Got some training in and worked on my mindscape. Not too bad, I suppose.”

  “I am pleased, my Lord. Did you, by any chance, give thought to the matters of which we spoke before you retired last evening?”

  Aranos sighed. The overly polite servant had confronted him the moment he’d entered the estate yesterday – or was that early this morning? – and began bombarding him with a list of items that absolutely had to be seen to immediately. Apparently, Keryth’s recent obsession with destroying the Stronghold had left his House in a certain amount of disrepair, and now Lorsan expected Aranos to fix it.

  “Not really, no, sorry.”

  “Decisions must be made, my Lord, and they cannot be simply ignored indefinitely, or the House will suffer.” Lorsan’s face was as impassive as before, but Aranos could read the quiet disapproval in the man’s eyes.

  “And they will be made,” Aranos snapped a bit waspishly. “Just not this exact moment. I’d like to bathe first and maybe grab some breakfast, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Of course, my Lord,” Lorsan bowed. “I will have your breakfast prepared while you bathe. We can speak after you have eaten and perhaps regained your disposition.”

  Soaking in the tub of steaming, hot water that was attached to his new master suite, Aranos decided that it wasn’t Lorsan’s voice that was annoying; it was his overly respectful tone. That, and the fact that he insisted on calling Aranos ‘my Lord’, no matter how often Aranos insisted on being called either his name or one of his other Titles. Aranos had noticed that Lorsan was utterly obedient, right up until he either didn’t want to be or thought that Aranos was being foolish. When Aranos learned that he had servants, he’d tried to release them from his service. Lorsan had laughed at the offer and ignored it, as he did any of Aranos’ commands that didn’t fit the master/servant relationship the elf seemed to require.

  Despite all that, he realized that the snarky elf was right. He did have a House to run, now, and that meant he had to pay attention to it. With a sigh, he pulled up the screen detailing his House’s status:

  House Evenshade

  Rank: Fledgling House

  Members: 22/50

  Unique Holdings: 3

  Common Structures: 21/8

  Uncommon Structures: 8/4

  Rare Structures: 4/0

  Founder Personality: None

  House Path: None

  Elders: None

  Achievements: None

  Great Works: None

  House Credit: 138 PL

  Current Resources:

  Timber: 115Ore: 47Stone: 12

  Glass: 30Crystal:6

  Construction Points: 0 (9/week generated, 11/week maintenance)

  Aranos read through the screen, analyzing what he could. Some of it made perfect sense to him; other parts he knew he’d have to ask Lorsan about at some point. Members were simple enough; he was a member of the House, of course, as were all the Travelers Keryth had conscripted to try and keep Aranos occupied and out of the Patriarch’s hair while he took over. Those Travelers had turned on their former employer after being essentially enslaved and now more or less worked for Aranos.

  He also had a fair number of buildings, apparently far more than he needed. He guessed that was because he’d inherited the buildings but not his rank from House Exxidor; the previous owners probably needed that many buildings, but Aranos didn’t, at least not yet. It looked like he had a decent amount of resources, although to be honest he didn’t know what constituted a decent amount. He might have enough for several new buildings, or just barely enough for one. Without more info, he had no way of knowing. He was pretty sure that 138 PL stood for 138 platinum links, which was a small fortune, but he guessed the lion’s share of that had come from when he and his Follower Geltheriel had basically absconded with the accumulated wealth of the Fallen Realm of Haerobel.

  He didn
’t understand the parts about Personality, a Path, or Construction Points, though. Those he would need to talk to Lorsan about later.

  The eld was waiting patiently for him as he emerged from the tub and stood silently while Aranos put down a breakfast of fruit, biscuits, and some kind of meat that he couldn’t identify. It was all good, if not great, and as ate, Aranos decided that he really should be more grateful and appreciative.

  “I’m sorry, Lorsan,” he finally spoke as he finished his meal. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier. I know you’re just trying to do your job, and I’ll help you as I can.”

  “Your apology is unnecessary but appreciated, my Lord,” the elf replied simply. “We are learning about one another during this time. I have learned that a bath and food are simple ways to ease your mind, which is good to know.

  “If I may, however, I would like return our conversation to that which I spoke of earlier. There are matters that I deem important for you to decide. Further decisions about the House can wait, but some of these things are immediate and vital.”

  Aranos sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead. Lorsan had a list of items he kept trying to go over with Aranos, which was fair, but the list seemed endless. The elf was just doing his job, and from what Aranos could tell, he was frighteningly competent at it. However, Aranos didn’t really want to spend his days bogged down in the minutiae of running an estate and building a noble House. He knew there were players who lived for that sort of thing, but he wasn’t one of them. Now there’s an idea, he thought with a grim smile. Maybe one of these players is big into 4X gaming. I could give them some Title and they could manage the place for me…

 

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