by Kyle Johnson
Congratulations: You Have Leveled Up!
Sorcerer Ascendant Level: 8
Current XP: 147247/153000
Int +5, Wis +5, Cha +5, +5 Stat points
Sorcerer Level: 14
Current XP: 96619/105000
Int +3, Wis +3, Cha +3, +3 Stat points
I am without peer! Without sane peer, anyway…
Your Companion has gained a level!
Current Level: 15
Per +6, Agil +6, Other Stats +4, +10 Stat points to assign
Aranos stared at the notifications in disbelief. His new race had also come with a boost to his Instinctive Meditation – well, Deeper Meditation, now – and a host of new abilities. His Cha had jumped to match his Int Stat, his Skills had gotten a 6-point boost, and his LP now regenerated as fast as his SP – which meant that he could go from 1% to full in about twenty seconds, outside of combat. Best of all, many of his mana restrictions had been either eased or, in the case of his Primary mana, erased entirely. He could turn all his SP into fire mana if he wanted, or light mana to deal with the undead. He still couldn’t use unlimited amounts of Enhanced mana, but he could use a lot more than before by either shifting Primary SP into Enhanced SP or by boosting his relevant Stats using his Charisma.
His two new levels had also boosted his Mental Stats significantly and gave him 8 Stat points to play with. He decided to dump 4 of those into Cha – it was now his second-most important Stat, in some ways – and split the other evenly between Int and Wis. With the new racial limitation to his training, his days of training Int and Wis were over. His Physical Stat training could continue, but now he’d get a point one night, nothing the next, then two points, then nothing, and that would continue.
He shook his head and settled in for his watch; he’d told Saphielle he had things to do, and he hadn’t been lying. He wanted to create trinkets like he’d made for Martina for each of the party members, and thanks to his new racial Abilities, that was possible. He had plenty of Wis to power the soul mana he needed for the charms, but he was light on the Per he needed to boost his spirit mana. Taking a deep breath, he reached down within himself, shifting power from his Cha pool to the far more weakly glowing fount of Per until he’d boosted it over 100. He paused as his senses suddenly sharpened, threatening to overwhelm him, but he closed his eyes and focused until the new clarity of his Perception was under control.
With his boosted Perception, crafting the new charms was easy enough. He still couldn’t create them all at once – he made five of them quickly and then had to wait an hour to make the remaining four – but without the Per boost, he wouldn’t have gotten them all done in a night without hurting himself. He spent the time between in Skill training, since this would have been a night that he would have gotten no points in Stat training with his new penalties. He couldn’t simply sink into his mindscape to train, since he needed to stay alert, but thanks to his new understanding of his Meditation Skill, he didn’t need to. Instead, he allowed his mind to slip into the memories of the Skill Books like they were a daydream. It wasn’t as effective, only giving him a single level to his Carving, Leatherworking, and Arcane Lore Skills, but it was better than missing the night’s training.
He spent the remainder of the night studying. The book on Elven Lore didn’t yield any truly interesting information – the chapter he was on kept droning on about trading agreements, how they’d been broken by various races, the diplomatic consequences of these betrayals, and how a band of powerful Spellswords had maintained order in the Realms by the use of force. The culmination came when a half-crazed Elder named Jhaerjhar attempted to overthrow the Spellswords but was literally beaten to death with his own, severed arm in front of everyone, resulting in the Elven King dissolving the Senate and creating a Council of Elders that didn’t include the powerful Houses. Aranos wasn’t a fan of the story, but at least the ending was somewhat satisfying; the Elder had been a ridiculous character, and Aranos was honestly kind of glad when he died.
He also discovered that Ilmadia’s crafting book had an entire section on rare woods, including the three types he had in his pack. There wasn’t much information there that he didn’t know from his Natural Lore and Herbalism Skills, but there was a bit that suggested that Carving these types of wood should only be done with knives made of rare, hard metals like deepsteel. Even truesilver wouldn’t hold an edge sharp enough to work these woods deftly. Some of the woods responded better to magically charged tools, as well; telmallern, for example, was best carved with a magically sharpened tool charged with nature mana, while oilarie responded better to light mana. While it wasn’t much – certainly, the information didn’t make him confident enough to attempt Carving any of his rare woods – it was enough to give his Carving Skill another level, bringing it to Student 9.
When the others awoke, he handed out the charms he’d created. “These aren’t as good as my Spell,” he admitted. “They reduce necrotic effects by half instead of dropping them to a quarter, so we’ll try to limit ourselves to 2-hour dives into the city before returning here to rest for an hour. They still halve the distance the undead can sense you, though, and a 50% reduction in necrotic damage might be useful if we have to face more powerful undead.”
“It didn’t do much against that lich-thing, though,” McBane observed a bit sourly. “What happens if it comes out to play again?”
“Run,” Aranos shrugged. The others laughed weakly, but he shook his head. “I mean it. Last time, it was inside the barrier, so my ward didn’t do anything. This should reduce the damage its necrotic attacks can do and let you disjoin any Spells it uses to slow you down or paralyze you. Run, and hope it doesn’t feel like chasing you.
“To be honest, though, I don’t think it’ll be an issue. I’m pretty sure Zoridos is going to work through its minions now instead of coming to visit us personally.”
“Have you got a reason for that?” Longfellow inquired. “Again, not that I need one, but it’s reassuring to think that our fearless leader is smart fearless rather than crazy fearless.”
“Aranos hurt it last time,” Meridian spoke up. “Did ya’ll see how pissed it was about that? I’m betting nothing’s hurt that thing in a long, long time. You think it wants to come back and find out if he can do it again?”
“And yet, one might observe that at some point, we will have to face the creature if we wish to free the city,” Rhys spoke up. “Should we not lay plans to deal with it for when that time comes?”
“I’ve got an idea or two,” Aranos smiled. “Fighting it directly is probably a losing proposition. We’re going to have to weaken it, first, and I can only think of one way to do that.” He turned to Martina. “I need a favor. I need you to see if you can find the Treehome – kind of like the city’s palace or keep. It should be in the center of the city, and it should be built around a giant tree.”
“I think I’ve seen that,” the woman nodded. “What do I do when I find it?”
“Get inside and look around. I’m sure Zoridos is there, and I want to see where it spends its time, what it’s doing, and anything else you can find out.” He looked gravely at the woman. “This is a volunteer job, and if you don’t want to do it, just say so. Between your natural Ability to hide from the undead, your necrotic immunity, and your diadem, you’re the only one of us who can get close to that place without triggering whatever defenses they have.”
Martina made a sour face but shrugged. “Yeah, I’m on it. I’ll let Hector know if I find anything out.”
“Thanks,” Aranos smiled. “As for the rest of us, we’re heading out.”
“Anywhere in particular, or are we just taking a stroll, enjoying the sights and sounds of the undead?” Phil grinned.
Geltheriel sighed and rolled her eyes. “Can you not read my Oathbinder’s face, Spellsword?” she asked. “He looks as pleased as the Archer does whenever the Shaman bends to pick something up.”
“Hey, I do not!” Longfellow protested as Meridian t
urned and gave him an arch stare. “I mean, I may look, yeah, but I don’t get all happy about it.”
“Indeed, you do, Archer. However, I should add that the Shaman is aware of this and does it deliberately to torment you.” Geltheriel grinned at the flush that appeared on Meridian’s face.
“Hey, sisters before misters, lady,” Meridian complained. “You’re not supposed to tell them about that stuff!”
“Sisters before misters. I shall remember that,” the Shadedancer laughed. “In any case, have you not guessed why my Oathbinder is so happy this morning?” The woman looked around, but only Saphielle seemed to catch on. “His Companion has found the Library.”
Aranos hovered above a shattered, crumbled ruin that had once been a building of some sort but was now unrecognizable. Most of the city seemed to be that way; there were occasional structures that had been shoddily repaired, probably to provide shelter from the sun and weather for the undead, but the majority of the city had been reduced to rubble. There were myriad signs of undead about, but none of them were recent, and none led into or out of the nearby ruins, so Aranos wasn’t particularly worried about being spotted as he floated over the skyline and examined the Library far ahead.
With his Perception pumped to over 100, Aranos had no trouble making out the ranks of undead that ringed the building. The Library was one of the few places in the city that had been meticulously maintained, along with a few of the odd towers that dotted the landscape. Its walls were gray stone, traced with cracks and hairline fractures, but efforts had been made to patch the largest fissures and to reinforce the eroded walls. A series of wide, worn steps rose before the building, leading to a heavy door that looked to be made of pitted, rusted iron but still stood, solidly blocking the entrance.
None of that really interested Aranos, except tangentially. His attention was focused on the tracks leading into the nearby buildings, most of which showed signs of being hastily cleared out and repaired. Perhaps twenty undead blocked the party’s entrance to the Library, but it looked like at least twice that number had taken shelter in the neighboring structures.
What that meant for the upcoming battle depended entirely on how well the undead were being led, but Aranos had to assume that there was something like a lanohtar inside. Thanks to Lily, Zoridos would know that the Library was the party’s goal, and it would have put a force here that if felt was capable of defeating the party. That meant that something out there had to have a handle on tactics.
Aranos frowned, considering. If he were the enemy commander, he’d have put his weakest, most numerous forces outside, where they could be easily seen. A classic counter for dealing with a force like this was to hit hard and fast, punch through the front ranks and get through the door, or at least get the door and wall at your back. That way, when the ambushers came in from the flanks, you’d be facing them all along a single front. However, Aranos would make sure to put a much stronger force inside the building, so when his attackers turned to face the creatures outside, he could hit them from behind with greater force. The invaders would be caught between his two forces, ground to pieces, and obliterated.
Of course, if that second force can’t reach the attackers, then the tables turn a bit… Aranos chuckled as a plan formed in his head, and he swooped back to the others, grinning excitedly.
The path Silma chose for the party led through the tunnels beneath the city, rather than the streets above. The party’s efforts of the day before hadn’t been in vain, and their encounters in the tunnels had been few and with small parties of undead that were easily dispatched. Aranos wasn’t sure why the undead hadn’t returned to the area – surely, there were plenty of the creatures in the city to repopulate the area – but he suspected Lily was part of that. If she had any experience as a gamer, the woman would have recognized the party’s tactics for what they were, since pulling a train into an ambush was a time-honored move. He didn’t know how much power Zoridos had over the woman – if his guesses about her were right, he didn’t even know if she counted as a player anymore – but he had to assume that whatever she knew, the lich-thing knew.
If that was true, then Aranos understood why the undead hadn’t come back. If Zoridos had repopulated the area, the party could have kept dragging groups of undead to slaughter. While it probably would have taken days or even weeks for them to eliminate the undead completely, that wasn’t the goal; they just needed to reduce the density of the creatures enough to allow them to pass unhindered throughout the city. With as large as Antas was, they wouldn’t have had to eliminate too many of the creatures for that to be a realistic possibility.
Even worse for the lich, Aranos was pretty sure that Zoridos couldn’t replace its losses without raiding the nearby uruks for more corpses – and so far, they hadn’t seen any animated uruks or their kin. Aranos supposed that could mean that the uruks couldn’t be raised as undead, but he suspected it was more that once the undead were away from the city and its necrotic zone, they were at a disadvantage versus the more numerous and organized urukkai. Zoridos could probably get away with raiding the creatures for a few corpses, but marching an army against them to fully replenish his losses wouldn’t likely go well for the lich. It might even allow the urukkai – or humans, or elves, or anyone, really – to retake Antas and displace the lich.
Aranos was pretty sure that Zoridos wouldn’t risk that. The lich was powerful, but it was too powerful. If Aranos was right, it was getting that power from the city and its Tree-heart, and being driven out would severely weaken the undead wizard, if not destroy it outright. Zoridos wouldn’t leave Antas undefended or weaken its forces in the city too much, or it might beat the party but lose its power in the bargain. Most of the undead they’d seen looked like they’d been human or elven, once; that implied that Zoridos had swelled its ranks by letting its enemies come to it and then inducting them into its forces.
Aranos was also fairly certain that the Tree-heart was the reason for the necrotic zone covering the city. If Zoridos had somehow managed to twist the Heart so that it protected the undead, rather than repelled them, it might have been able to create such a powerful barrier. That would also explain what had happened when Zoridos sent them all for respawn last time: the necrotic zone had dropped. That had puzzled Aranos for a while, but it made sense, in a way. If Zoridos and the zone were both drawing power from the same source, when Zoridos pulled on that energy too heavily, the necrotic zone couldn’t be maintained.
Of course, that was all speculation. It was possible that the reason there weren’t more undead around was that they were out of the city, collecting corpses to restore their losses. It was possible that Zoridos had some other artifact powering it, or perhaps in its centuries of existence it had simply become incredibly strong. It was even possible that Zoridos had dropped the necrotic zone with the players’ deaths because it didn’t care about the elves.
If any of those were true, though, then Aranos didn’t think the party had a realistic chance of freeing the city. If the undead could replenish their numbers in days, the party couldn’t win a war of attrition. If Zoridos simply viewed them all as bugs and was naturally that powerful, then Aranos would need at least twenty or thirty more levels before he had a chance of facing the creature. If his speculations were false, then all they could do was get into the Vault, get the info they needed, and flee the city.
While it was possible that was what they were meant to do, he doubted it was that simple. So far, the AIs had always presented multiple ways to complete Quests. There was usually a straightforward, easy way; a less simple but generally obvious way; and a more hidden path that required you to really understand what was happening. Aranos hoped that his musings about the Tree-heart were on-target, because for the life of him, he couldn’t see another way to defeat the creature.
The undead standing in even ranks before the Library showed absolutely zero signs of surprise or shock when the party came charging around the corner of one of the buildings, their ru
sh aided by Aranos’ Gust of Speed Spell, and smashed into their lines. They reacted instantly, swarming mindlessly toward the invaders, while a horde of similar creatures rushed out of the side buildings and charged the party’s flanks. As Saphielle, Hector, and Phil cut a swath of rotting flesh and dripping ichor through the undead, Aranos flitted overhead, out of reach of the lumbering creatures, until he was close enough to reach the door with his High Mastery Ability.
The metal door was rusted and battered, but it was still metal, and it responded instantly to the touch of his mental fingers. He wove threads of metal mana between the doors, extruding part of one door and melding it with the other. In a few seconds, the line of darkness between the doors vanished, and the portal shuddered as a heavy blow struck it from behind. Aranos tensed but grinned as his workmanship held; he’d effectively welded the doors shut.
The tanks burst through the lines of undead and immediately spun to open a corridor, allowing the rest of the party to pass through and reforming in a wall of steel that the undead crashed harmlessly against. With their Defense and armor both boosted by Meridian’s and Aranos’ Spells, the tanks shrugged off the ragged claws of the once-living monsters and felled them quickly. Aranos and Longfellow added to the carnage with their ranged attacks, while Geltheriel and McBane darted out around the shield wall to inflict heavy damage on the undead foes.
The door behind them continued to crash and boom, but Aranos took a moment to place his hand on it. It was old, weak, and rusted, but the core of metal inside was still strong. Aranos touched that, reinforcing it, shifting the impurities from the corroded mana away from it, burning through SP in the process. Rust sloughed off the door in a sheet of liquid metal, but the beneath, the portal shone with the silver-white gleam of truesilver. The booming on the door paused for only a second, but Aranos paid no mind to it; whoever was banging on the door wasn’t getting through an inch of truesilver unless they were a freaking dragon.
