by Troy Osgood
The attacking Trow hesitated, coming to a complete stop, unsure which to attack. Where there had been one Human woman, there was now two. With a fierce cry, an odd howl that echoed through the fog, the Trow swung its sword toward the Human on the right.
Striking true, so it thought, the Trow smiled wickedly only to watch as its sword thrust wavered. Instead of hitting the woman in the chest, the sword struck somewhere in the middle of the two. It heard a cry of pain but saw its sword strike nothing.
The Trow yelped in pain as blasts of energy shot out from the two staffs, striking it in the chest. Pitch black liquid fire slammed against it, smoke rising from the impact.
Sabine smiled to herself, the image repeating the action. Raising her hands, she cast Hexbolt. Five shafts of solid dark light flew out of the raised hand, straight to the chests of five of the Trow. The shafts struck each of the creatures in a different spot, crackling purple bolts of energy spreading out from the areas. Across shoulders, chests, backs and thighs.
Hall saw the shafts out of the corner of his eye. None hit the Trow in front of him. It had stepped back, wiping at the blood across its eyes from Pike’s attack, giving Hall time to draw his short sword. He kicked out, foot connecting with the Trow’s stomach, pushing the humanoid back another couple steps. Following up with a lunge, Hall slashed his sword across the Trow’s chest, drawing a thick line of blood.
Pike streaked out of the sky, a bolt of lightning leading. The bolt slammed into the Trow’s shoulder, smoke rising from the wound. The humanoid yelped out in pain, distracted, which allowed Hall’s next attack to stab through its throat. The Trow fell to the ground.
Hall turned to look over the battle.
Leigh had her cudgel out, slamming it against a Trow’s raised buckler. Angus, bleeding hard from a wound in the cow’s chest, was grunting and slamming his horns into a Trow that was striking the cow’s back with its sword. Bright red slashes marred the cow’s thick hide.
Hall was momentarily surprised to see two Sabines facing off with another Trow before Hall remembered the Witch’s Second Self ability. Casting it gave the Witch a magical doppelganger. This image had no physical or magical capabilities but it drew half the damage of any attack until its Health, equal to half of the casters, was depleted.
Roxhard was the hardest pressed, facing off against two Trow. He had managed to get one of them turned so he faced both, but he was at a disadvantage. One of the Trow had his weapon engaged, which allowed the other the freedom to attack the Dwarf’s side. Only his armor was saving him but that wouldn’t last long. Each blow depleted Roxhard’s Health. Checking the status bars, Hall saw that Roxhard was already at 50% Health.
Sheathing his sword, mentally telling Pike to circle up for another attack, Hall pulled one of the throwing knives from the bracer. He threw it as he used Leap, pulling his spear from the sheath on his harness.
Straining against the force of one Trow pushing down against his weapon, seeing the sharp edge of the blade coming closer, trying not to let the pain of the other Trow’s attacks push him aside, Roxhard saw a small streak of lightning slam into one of the Trow. A flash of light, followed by a crackling bolt of lightning, slammed into the Trow’s shoulder. It yelped in surprise and pain, stepping back and taking the pressure off Roxhard’s battle axe. Reaching down to his belt with his right hand, Roxhard pulled his hand axe free and swept it back toward the second Trow.
That creature had its sword raised for another swipe at Roxhard’s unprotected side but had to step back as the axe head sliced through where it had been. Reversing the swing, holding the battle axe with one hand, Roxhard pushed the two-handed axe up. He swung with the hand axe, catching the Trow in the side. He pulled the hand axe back to swing again.
Hall landed behind the Trow, spear slamming into the humanoids shoulder. It staggered under the blow, collapsing to the ground.
Roxhard dropped the hand axe, taking the battle axe in both hands and pushed against the Trow in front of him. Smoke still rising from the knife wound, the Trow staggered back and took a blast of lightning in the face as Pike swooped by. It cried out in pain, the echo dying as Roxhard’s battle axe slammed into its chest, the strong blow ending the Trow’s life.
Pulling his spear out of the slumping Trow, Hall reversed his grip and stabbed it forward. The Trow in front of Sabine cried as the tip caught it in the side, pushing the creature a couple steps. Sabine struck with a Shadow Bolt, staggering the Trow, both images raising their hands in casting. Hall pulled back his spear, stepped forward and thrust again. The Trow dropped dead to the ground.
Roxhard adjusted his grip on his battle axe, flipping the weapon so the head was on the right. He turned, pivoting on his feet, and swung the weapon into the Trow behind him. He struck the creature in the shoulder, hard, causing its arms to fly up, giving Angus the ability to slam his horns into the Trow’s stomach, thrashing his head back and forth, ripping the Trow’s belly apart.
Leigh slammed her cudgel against the Trow’s buckler, the attack aided by the weapon’s magic. The Trow was forced back a step, unable to bring its sword in to attack. Leigh knew she couldn’t keep it up, the wound on her arm throbbing and each swing getting weaker. She needed space but couldn’t let up the attack to get it. The effects of the Hexbolt, already weak because of the five targets, were wearing off as well. The Trow only needed a second to go back on the offensive.
Her next strike was the weakest yet, a shaking and unsteady swing that barely landed on the Trow’s small buckler. It grinned at her, sensing its opportunity, and raised its sword to attack. Sabine’s Shadowbolt slammed into its shoulder, pushing it back. Hall landed next to it, coming from above, his spear piercing it from behind. The Trow’s sword fell from its lifeless hands, the body propped up by the spear.
“Everyone good?” Hall asked, using his boot to push the Trow off his spear as he lifted the weapon out.
“Yes,” Leigh said as she turned to Angus. She lay her hands on the cow’s bloody hide, light coming from her palms and spreading around the cow.
“Are there anymore?” Sabine asked, a note of fear in her voice as they all turned to gaze out into the fog.
Above them Pike circled, sharp eyes trying to pierce the thick gray fog.
“I don’t think so,” Leigh replied a couple seconds later as they all warily watched the fog, back to back. “Those are Trow. They hunt in thick fog like this.”
“Nice of you to warn us,” Sabine snapped. “This is supposed to be your home.”
“I’m sorry,” Leigh said weakly, miserably. “There are no Trow villages in this area. Not that I knew of.”
“Seems to be one now,” Sabine muttered.
“Enough,” Hall told them all. “Eyes front.”
He took a moment to look at his Notifications.
SLAIN: Stonesky Fog Hunter
+30 Experience
SLAIN: Stonesky Fog Hunter
+10 Experience
SLAIN: Stonesky Fog Hunter
+10 Experience
Skill Gain!
Small Blades Rank +.3
Skill Gain!
Polearms Rank 2 +.1
Skill Gain!
Light Armor Rank 2 +.2
Skill Gain!
Thrown Rank 2 +.1
He dismissed the Notifications, clearing the log. Some good skill gains and experience.
“I leveled up,” Roxhard said happily.
“Congrats,” Hall said, relaxing slightly. “I think we’re safe. If there had been more, they would have attacked by now. We’re on guard, they wouldn’t want that.”
“I hope so,” Sabine grumbled as her Second Self image faded.
Hall had Roxhard stand at the back, eyes scanning around as he did the same at the front. The two women quickly looted the bodies. There was nothing of value, a handful of silver and that was it. The Trow weapons and armor were not worth taking. They pushed and pulled the bodies off the thin edge, letting them roll down the hill into the deeper
fog.
Moving much slower, Hall led them on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
They ran into the fog three more times during the trek, extending their journey by a couple more days. Not wanting to take chances, Hall had called a halt when the fog had grown so thick that visibility was lost. On one of the clear days, with Pike high up in the sky, they had found the Trow village. Nestled in a valley between hills, a couple miles north, and easy enough to avoid but still adding more time.
Hall was frustrated with the added time, wanting to get to their destination before any more random encounters came their way. He didn’t know what they would encounter at the Grove and wanted to be at full strength with all the potions they had come with and gear at full, or near full, durability. Random encounters were great when grinding out experience but not when on a mission.
The closer they got, the more withdrawn Leigh got. No longer her normally cheerful self, the Druid was quiet and distracted. Everyone understood why, and even Sabine didn’t bother her about it. Each step moved her farther down the path of a Druid of the Grove. Which may not be what she wanted.
She had been sent to find out why the Grove was not communicating with the rest of the Circle. A simple exploratory mission. But none of them were fooled. It was obvious what the Elders wanted. For a Grove to go silent, it meant some malevolent force had taken over the land and killed the caretakers. Leigh would discover this and be prompted to act. And by doing so, she would tie herself to the fate of the Grove.
For someone like her, that had been rebelling against such a thing, the Elders had neatly forced her into doing what they wanted and she did not. Her own sense of duty would compel her to act. To discover what was happening and turn back, take all that time to return to Cumberland or another Grove, to find aid? No Druid would do that. She would act, and her path would solidify.
Hall felt somewhat guilty for agreeing to help. He could have stalled longer, found some other excuse to delay their going. But that could only last so long. He could have also said no, not helped, but then Leigh would be confronting whatever was ahead on her own. After traveling with her for weeks, that was not something he would allow.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about Leigh. He liked her company, she was beautiful and made him laugh and smile. Roxhard had a crush on her, that was obvious. But she was still an NPC. Was there anything more that could develop? And what about Sabine? Gorgeous but a little cold and arrogant. Was there anything there? He hadn’t been trying to develop something with her, had she been with him?
There had been hundreds of Players that had developed in-game relationships, some even meeting In Real Life and getting married. He had never been one of those. It was a game. There had been some flirting over the years but he had not let anything become more.
Now he was? He tried to focus on the path ahead, eyes scanning for any dangers, but his thoughts kept wandering to Leigh. Was it the change in mindset, he thought, where this was no longer a game but life? Life was different. Life was about the relationships formed; romantic, business and friendship. That was how one got through life, with those relationships. If the game was now his life, he was building toward those.
Dyson was a step toward a long-term business relationship. The group he was with – Sabine, Roxhard and Leigh – were building friendships and allies to adventure with. Never adventure alone was one of the mottos of Sky Realms Online. Was Leigh going to become the romantic relationship?
He sighed, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. Time enough for those thoughts later.
Pulling open his map once again, Hall scouted out the path toward their destination, still a couple days away.
“There,” Hall said, pointing toward a high ridge a couple of miles away. “It’s on the other side.”
The edge of Edin was near, mountains running north and south. He was pointing at a low point between two great peaks, a ridge of grass and stone that ran between the two. A path was carved into the side of the steep slope, crisscrossing as it ran toward the top, ending in the middle between two tall stone pillars. Not natural, carved and placed, the pillars were easily a dozen feet tall and almost half as wide.
Standing on top of a hill, the land sloped down and rose back up again toward the ridge, a brook running down the bottom. Grassy sides, exposed rock, with few trees.
“Not a very inviting looking place,” Sabine said, looking toward the ridge.
“Steep climb with nowhere to find cover,” Hall remarked, studying the path up toward the top. “Very defensible position without having to build a wall.”
“Let’s hope no one is on the other side with similar ideas,” she muttered and started walking down the hill, loose stones slipping under her feet.
Hall laughed but hoped for the same.
He sent Pike high overhead, circling over the ridge. The dragonhawk saw no movement. From the high vantage point, Pike saw the ridge drop away on the other side, not as steeply, and opening onto a wide flower covered meadow that extended all the way to the edge of the island. In the middle of the meadow was an odd construction of grass covered peaks and deep trenches in the ground. A brook cascaded down from the mountains on the north, falling down from plateau to plateau in steps and pools before flowing across the open plain and disappearing into the ground beneath the ridge in a larger pond.
On one of the plateaus Pike could see a series of standing stones.
Mentally telling the dragonhawk to stay circling, Hall opened his eyes and focused. The world blurred a bit as the images Pike had sent faded, and the world he was seeing came back into full clarity. He looked up at the high ridge, and the path carved into the side. Wide enough for a thin wagon, the hard-packed path switched backed running the full length of the ridge to cut down on the steepness.
It was going to be a long and exposed hike up to the top.
“What was this village called?” Hall asked.
He stood at the top of the ridge, wide and relatively flat, between the two standing stones. He looked down into the valley on the other side.
“Skara Brae,” Leigh answered.
Hall glanced at her in surprise. He had never heard of Edin having an area with that name, and in the original game he had explored every inch of the island. He would have known if such a place existed. But he had never seen a branch of the World Tree or a Druid’s Grove in this area of the island either. In a way, he was glad. He had been afraid there would be nothing new to explore in this game life.
The village was set nearer the island’s edge than it had appeared from Pike’s view. The road switchbacked down the less steep side of the hill, across the meadow and down into the village square. The buildings were built into the ground, the grass of the meadow running up onto the roofs and down the sloping sides to the road and square. About a dozen buildings faced the square, most just hollow shells in the mounds of earth. The ones along the island’s edge were built fully into the ground. Some looked like they would have descended down, very low roofs that were small mounds of grass. Others, opposite the edge, looked like they had been normal shaped homes with the sides and roofs covered in the grass. There were openings on either side, the roofs sharply angled.
Midway down one curved side was a larger mound, the walls built of stone. The roof, what was left and had not collapsed, was covered in grass. Moss grew up the sides of the exposed stone. A three-story structure, two above ground.
Hall counted about twenty individual buildings in all. A ring with some homes in the middle, all covered in grass and earth. The middle rows of homes had mounds of earth that connected to the rings, tunnels boring through to allow passage. It was possible to run along the tops of all the buildings.
“Wooden walls once covered the faces of the homes,” Leigh said pointing down at the village.
With the cliff’s edge behind, the mountains and hill on the sides, the village was isolated. Alone and practically hidden. The wind tore down the mountains, pushing the stalks of grass and
the few trees. It had a rugged beauty, Hall thought.
“The Grove is there,” Leigh said, pointing toward the northern mountain and the lowest of the two plateaus.
Hall looked toward the tall peak, the top covered in snow, the sides bare rock. There were two plateaus that he saw, both covered in grass and a few trees. The highest was about a couple hundred feet up, the larger one only fifty or so feet above the village. Paths led up the mountain side to each. On the larger one he could see a circle of standing stones. Slabs of smoothed rock standing in a pattern, some with horizontal slabs across them. Beyond the stones was a thick growth of trees. A stream came from the top plateau, falling down the mountain to land in a pool on the second plateau. From there it flowed across the flat surface and fell down the side into a small pool on the meadow before flowing southeast and into a larger pond at the base of the ridge they stood upon.
“The tree is in the middle of a small pond surrounded by those stones.”
Even from here Hall could tell something was wrong. Unlike the green and healthy grass and trees of the meadow and the other plateau, the middle one was dark. The trees drooped, the limbs lifeless. There was brown along the ground instead of green, a dark purple moss growing along the rock faces of the cliff and the standing stones.
He couldn’t see the Grove, the tree itself, just the standing stones with the waterfall behind them and another in front. Beyond the look of death there was a chilly feeling coming from the plateau, a wrongness that he could feel even this far away.
Glancing up at the sky, he saw the sun was starting to set. The hike up the ridge had taken longer than he had thought it would. They could have gone faster but he had been cautious, not sure what to expect. At each switchback, the road had widened into a flat place to stop, where wagons and horses could wait while another went down or up the single width path. There had been remains of low rock walls and carvings that had been beaten down by time and rain.
