Apostle of the Sleeping Gods

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Apostle of the Sleeping Gods Page 28

by Dan Sugralinov


  Clan founder and leader

  Real name: Alex Sheppard.

  Real age: 15.

  Class: Herald.

  Display class: Archer (imitation).

  Crawler, level-11 human

  Clan: The Awoken.

  Tactics Officer

  Real name: Edward Rodriguez.

  Real age: 15.

  Class: Fire Mage.

  Tissa, level-10 human

  Clan: The Awoken.

  Analysis Officer.

  Real name: Melissa Schafer.

  Real age: 15.

  Class: Light Mage.

  Bomber, level-10 human

  Clan: The Awoken.

  Supply Officer.

  Real name: Hung Lee.

  Real age: 15.

  Class: Warrior.

  Infect, level-10 human

  Clan: The Awoken.

  Reconnaissance Officer.

  Real name: Malik Abduhalim.

  Real age: 15.

  Class: Thief.

  I assigned ranks to the clan just provisionally, based on what I knew about them. We didn’t want to bother with that yet and, for now, the Awoken were destined to remain quite a small and extremely private clan.

  Ed Rodriguez, sometimes impossibly geeky, was going over our route yet again but, to my surprise, none of the guys were annoyed. In fact, they were all listening just as attentively as the first run-through. Seemingly, repetition was foundational for the Dementors and, in many ways, what allowed them to achieve such progress in the first place. And I had to admit, they had done great for such a small clan.

  “Let’s drop by Packston’s Vineyards. There’s an Ancient Leprechaun that sometimes spawns there. After that, we go to the Reeking Crypt and the Mountain Dams. It won’t take much time, but it’s worth doing.” Crawler looked at me because the others already knew that. “A Bone Horse can drop in the crypt. Theoretically, because no one has gotten lucky in the last four years. And at the dam, we can do a bit of fishing...”

  “Uh...”

  “Hung is an angler,” Tissa explained.

  “It won’t take more than a minute,” Crawler continued. “Bomber is trying to get an achieve there and catch this Golden Fish. You can only catch it on your first cast of the week.”

  “Yeah, we might as well skip that,” Hung boomed out in his deep bass. “It’s a myth.”

  “It is not a myth!” Ed said sharply. “It has been proven conclusively. You just need to be patient.”

  I didn’t ask what it could give, but Tissa decided to explain anyway:

  “The Golden Fish gives just one mission. It asks you to let it go, and you get two options for the reward, either a random object that is usually at least epic quality, or a permanent boost to any main attribute ranging from twenty to one hundred points.”

  “You might even get a legendary,” Bomber added. “But I think I’d take the stat boost. I would have picked endurance before but, with Alex, I would put it all into strength...”

  “Yes, thinking strategically is the way to go,” Crawler agreed. “But let’s get back to the plan. We’re gonna complete the Abandoned Pits. It used to be an active mine, but it was exhausted, then abandoned and the gnolls took over the shafts, which is where it gets its other name, Gnoll Quarry. There’s nothing there of particular value, but we need to get a single use key that drops from the last mob. Without that, there’s no other way into Goro Gorge, a raid ins full of ogres. And after that, we can pop into Gloomwood. Tissa, that was your thing.”

  “Yes, it was my idea,” Schafer confirmed. “Something has appeared deep in the forest. Basically, there used to be a little lumberjack village there but, when the breath of the Nether came over the forest, the people were turned into monsters, but kept the same appearance. They devoured wandering travelers until Tristad sent out a death squad to clear the village. Recently, one of the Rain Crabs was in that part of the forest and, from far away, he noticed a quest giver, some ghost wandering in the village. But he didn’t get the quest. He was killed by wraiths first, and wrote about it on the forums.”

  I remembered Tissa telling me that all the Dementors were constantly monitoring the sandbox forums for just such events: someone saw something weird somewhere, didn’t know exactly what and hurried to tell people.

  “Basically, I say we drop by there and check it out. What if there’s something worth our while?”

  “Agreed,” I nodded. “That way we can come up a level or two. They’re pretty empty places and that means plenty of nasty high-level mobs.”

  “I like the cut of your jib, Scyth!” Bomber poked my shoulder, expressing delight. “Come up a level or two! Ha-ha! To hear you tell it, sounds like a piece of cake!”

  “Am I wrong?” I didn’t understand.

  “You know how long this would have taken us without you?”

  “I can guess,” I sighed. “A long time.”

  “So then, we’ll check the little village, farm a level and keep going. Over the Tremitelle to the hunting camp in the Mire,” Tissa said.

  “Do you think they’ll be friendly?” Infect suggested. “We could just make a break for it and see how far we get...”

  Then Ed joined in again and explained that the hunting camp was a separate faction with no connection to Tristad. Nevertheless, completing their quests was a way of slightly boosting reputation with the city. Despite everything, the guys hadn’t lost the hope of restoring good relations with their characters’ hometown.

  Then Ed once again ran over our tactics if we encountered gankers. Meanwhile, we ate a bit of trail food with a movement speed buff and Tissa added to it with her magic.

  Lightfoot

  Light shines the way!

  +10% to movement speed.

  Duration: 1 hour.

  By seven in the evening, we were off. It was a bright day; the sun was crimson and already dipping beneath the horizon. It left the soil warm and the air was wafting up in transparent streams. We came straight down the hill, crossing creeks and then went up another steep incline. And so we went, from hilltop to hilltop. Not counting one very angry and powerful bear and a few gangs of stupid low-level bandits, no one aggro’d on us. Small animals just ran away, and the few creatures that were equal to us in level reasonably judged our group not to be worth the trouble.

  The rare mobs Crawler promised gave us no problems, though neither the Ancient Leprechaun in the vineyard, nor Baron Dustbringer dropped the loot we were hoping for. Bomber then cast a line (+5 to fishing trade) but, instead of the golden fish, he got an especially feisty Striped Perch, which swallowed the hook and bait then almost half of the unlucky Hung’s finger while he tried getting it off the hook.

  “I’m gonna keep you for Scyth to fry up,” he grumbled with a vengeance, tossing the floundering perch into his inventory.

  Meanwhile, the crimson sun fully set before we made it from the dam to the road and started our race toward Gloomwood. The trail suddenly gave a sharp turn right toward the ocean; to my righthand side, there were never ending green fields of vines. And before us were towering cliff faces and looming ravines. And that was where we were headed.

  It was my first time in this part of the sandbox. Eve and I never had the nerve to go this far. There was a dusty road that looped around the whole zone, running up hills and diving down again, but soon it gave way to a gradual descent into a narrow gorge.

  “As soon as we enter the ins, I’ll go invincible, pull all the mobs and run to the first boss,” I announced. “You don’t aggro anything and just run a bit behind us...”

  “We remember, Alex,” Tissa reassured me. “Don’t worry.”

  But I was still worried. The Gnoll ins was a place they’d studied back to front, but Bomber had always been their tank. And though my suggestion to speed up the farm did have them excited, I was a bit on edge. What if one of them aggro’d on someone else? If one of my clanmates died, it wouldn’t be that big a deal. After all, Tissa could raise the dead and I could alway
s use the Respawn Stone to res her. But dying would mean losing experience, and that meant backsliding on our progress, which we could not afford to do.

  “Scyth!” Hung perched a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Everything’s gonna be fine, don’t worry! Our group has the most capable and experienced raiders in this sandbox. Just do everything like you used to, and we’ll adapt.”

  Ed and Malik confirmed with a satisfied chuckle. They would adapt.

  “Then let’s go,” I said, leading the way down into the quarry.

  The entrance was guarded by three packs of sentries: nothing too special, level ten and eleven, not even elite. The mobs inside the dungeon were about the same level, though they did have improved, elite status.

  Humanoid dogs. That was the first thing I thought when I saw the Gnolls. I’d heard that, in mythology, Gnolls were a mix between gnomes and trolls. But lots of stuff in Dis was not based on myths and legends, but tried and true concepts from the original fantasy games of the turn of the century. In Dis, Gnolls were a bit more than six feet tall and had big strong arms. They walked upright, were covered in a greenish gray fur and had a sparse matted mane running along their spine.

  Even from this distance, they emitted a strong, thick and heavy dog smell. Their society was also organized along canine lines. Gnolls roamed in imposing packs and, somewhere in the north of the continent, they even had their own government that was recognized both by the dark factions and the Commonwealth.

  “Come on then, in the name of the Sleeping Gods!” Ed whispered in excitement. “Scyth, tank with Bomb...”

  I quickly took down the sentries, a group of Gnoll Scouts around a fire, cutting through them like butter. I didn’t even need plague energy. One Combo of two Hammerfists was enough to take one down. Bomber and I intercepted the pack while the others rained down damage. All told, slaying all the gnolls at the entrance took us less than ten minutes.

  After picking up the primitive loot, we entered the dungeon, which fortunately was free of players. Any of them could pick up any of the loot, we’d figure out who got what later. But Bomber was dragging around five blue backpacks and could boast of almost two hundred available slots.

  Unfortunately, I was not allowed to wear more than one bag: that was the prerogative of the strong classes. Dis even had even so-called “walking safes” and “haulers,” two working classes with huge carrying capacity and one-hundred percent chance of keeping what they stored after death.

  Upon entering, I looked around, trying to see where to go. There was a wide spacious passage that led deep into the mine, but it was not the only way. To the side, I could see others.

  “There’s no sense going down the side tunnels,” Ed said. “Take the main tunnel. It’s the big open round one. The stone blocking that one rolls away after the final boss, so that will be our way out. Anyhow, we need only the key to Goro Gorge, and it falls from the last.”

  “Okay,” I said and punched myself a few times to bring down my health, then activated the curse of the undead.

  “Son of a bitch! It’s not enough for you to be a blatant masochist now, on top of that, sorry Scyth, but you look like a damn zombie!” Infect shouted.

  “And you know why, Malik?” I chuckled, feeling corpse spots covering my skin. “Because that’s exactly what I am!”

  Without another word, I ran down the tunnel and rained down a series of blows on the next pack, going out of my way to make sure they all got their share.

  The mine was clean. The walls didn’t have any living outgrowths, and there were no toxic puddles. There were just piles of stones, ore and carts on narrow-gauge rails with abandoned cars leaning against the walls here and there.

  All the mobs we encountered were Gnolls and there were two main types. The first were slaves, prisoners of war from competing clans. They were smaller, unarmed and often chained to the place they were supposed to be working. The second were warriors from the clan that controlled the quarry. The latter were split between crossbowmen and swordsmen and, when they saw me, they gave something between a dog’s bark and human laugh. Perhaps that was how hyenas laughed, but I had never seen a hyena in my life, much less a laughing one. In fact, they were extinct, so I would never be able to say for certain.

  When I reached the first boss, I was dragging a long passenger train of gnolls behind me, growling, yelping and laughing. Based on the bars in the group frame, my clanmates were alive and well, even taking out the mobs I left behind, which I could tell by the crumbs of experience slowly piling up.

  I waited for the guys in the middle of the first boss’s cave. Towering three heads over me, this gnoll was wearing a heavy set of chainmail armor and wielding a heavy club.

  Bloodtooth of pack Blackpaw, level 13

  Gnoll

  Dungeon Boss

  This boss – or the AI controlling him – was a bit dumbfounded by the odd situation. But when he came to his senses and started issuing a battle call, brandishing his club, it all ended suddenly. Not sparing plague energy, I slammed my fist into his unusually broad chest.

  You have critically damaged Bloodtooth of pack Blackpaw: 9458!

  Bloodtooth of pack Blackpaw is dead.

  Experience points received: 85.

  Experience points at present level (13): 1665/11400.

  Right after that, a whole fifty enraged gnolls piled on me and I had to disperse them with a Ghastly Howl.

  By the time the effect expired, less than half of the mobs were still alive and they were all running at me again. So I just swung blindly, unable to see anything but the frenzied gnolls and choking on their musky smell.

  I only found out the mobs were all dead when I heard the guys just losing it:

  “Alex, that’s the craziest damn cheat I’ve ever seen!” Infect’s shout of delight echoed throughout the cavern.

  Bloodtooth dropped blue plate boots, which I quickly gave to Bomber. There was nothing much to them, but they were definitely better than the greens he was wearing.

  An hour and change, we’d finished the dungeon. As for loot, all the more we ended up with was a blue leather belt from the second to last boss, Skindancer, which went to Infect. And although it gave us only a trickle of experience, about a thousand points each, we got what we came to the Gnoll Quarry for, the key to the ogre raid ins. And there, we were hoping to farm more experience, but also get at least one epic.

  Sitting at the ins exit, we tallied our results: Infect and Bomber each leveled-up once, catching up to Crawler, and Tissa was just a hair short. Taking advantage of the fact that I was getting all the damage, the guys improved some of their lagging specials and skills.

  My Ghastly Howl also upped and both my new moves improved a couple times.

  Ghastly Howl

  Active skill.

  Current level: 10.

  When you howl, your enemies are filled with fear. The blood turns to ice in their veins, their soul sinks into their boots, their hair stands on end and they run away in panic.

  This ability works on all enemies, however, the higher their level, the higher their chance of ignoring it.

  Duration: 20 seconds.

  Active radius: 65 feet.

  Stunning Kick

  Level: 3.

  A simple but very effective move. Has 32% chance of stunning target for 3 seconds.

  Cost to use: 3 mana points.

  Deals 160% of normal damage.

  Combo

  Level: 3.

  Composite combat move, joining other moves into one uninterrupted series of attacks.

  Number of slots in chain: 2.

  Cost to use: 90% of cost to use attacks separately.

  Cooldown: 10 seconds.

  Stunning Kick was gaining one percent stun chance per level, so it was definitely worth bringing up to maximum, the only stun in my arsenal.

  As for Combo, I would get a third slot in the chain at level five in the attack, while the use cost would go down one percent.

  “It’s safe to
say this scheme is working well,” Ed announced. “Second round of testing will commence tomorrow in Goro Gorge and, from there, we’ll stick to the plan. But for today, I say we wrap things up.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “There’s an integrated test tomorrow which absolutely none of us can afford to fail. Otherwise, we’ll have to do extra lessons and retake it, but we already have no time as it is. The Arena qualifying matches are in less than a month.”

  “Nether, we’re gonna have to cram so hard we skip sleep,” Bomber scratched the back of his head.

 

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