by James Hunter
If I accepted and lost, it would kill me—something I wasn’t keen on experiencing ever again, especially since Chief Kolle’s position in the Ak-Hani tribe was on the line. But still … Devil had proven to be far more helpful than I ever would’ve imagined, and I’d only run across a handful of Void Terrors since acquiring my abilities, and this one had proven to be capable. I chewed on my lip for a moment, running one hand through my short hair, before finally muttering a reluctant “yes.”
There was a rush of power, like the discharge from pent-up static, followed by a brief flare of purple light. Time crept to a standstill, and an orb of energy, no larger than a softball—wavering from gold to red, then back again—formed halfway between us. A Binding Orb of Will, I knew, summoned by powerful magic from the Outer Realm. The orb, though small and relatively unassuming, burned with the heat of a small personal sun; one wrong move, one lapse in concentration, and that ball would melt the skin off my face and leave me dead.
Nope, not today, I thought, throwing my raw will against the ball of shimmering light, pressing at the construct with all of my strength and determination to win. To survive.
My Contest of Wills against Devil had been a grueling endeavor, which had left me sweating and shaky-limbed, but the boss chimp didn’t have an ounce of fight left in him. The chimp was simply far too wounded for that. The orb lurched toward the downed ape, slapping into its busted-up face like a sucker punch to the mouth. The ball vanished in a flare, absorbed into the Void Watcher; bands of golden light, twisted with elegant strands of molten fire, erupted outward, momentarily blinding me.
When the light faded, the chimp was gone. Vanished like a nightmare, though quickly replaced by yet another prompt:
<<<>>>
Captured Void Terror
Congratulations, you have successfully captured a level 17 Greater Void Watcher!
Notice: You have used your only Void Terror ability point.
Notice: Would you like to name your new creature? Named creatures are far more likely to form strong bonds with their owners; often this special link confers limited telepathy with the summoned familiar.
Accept: Yes/No?
<<<>>>
I read over the notice with a grin and hardly even had to think about what I wanted to name my new minion. “Nikko,” I said out loud, instantly recalling the boss monkey from the Wizard of Oz.
“Congratulations, you may now summon Nikko utilizing your Void Terror ability,” said a pert voice—polite, vaguely British, and female. “Your new Void Terror, Nikko, has access to several unique skills. Would you like to see her description?” Her? Nikko, the Greater Watcher, was female? That was news to me. I shook the thought away and brought up a new screen.
<<<>>>
Nikko
Creature Type: Greater Void Watcher (Female)
Level: 17
Base Damage: 75
Base Armor: 63
Primary Effects:
30 pts Shadow Damage + (.25 x Creature Level)
+50% Resistance to Shadow Damage
+50% Resistance to Disease/Plague Damage
+25% Weakness to Fire Damage
Secondary Effects:
Shadow Stride: can move freely between the Material Plane and the Shadowverse!
Pack Animal: Normally, Shadowmancers can only summon (1) Void Terror at a time, but the Pack Animal ability allows the Greater Watcher to be summoned concurrently with other Void Terrors!
Weapon of Opportunity: Void Watchers are very intelligent and can be given tools or simple weapons, usable in combat!
Stages:
Void Watcher
Greater Void Watcher
Elder Void Watcher
<<<>>>
My jaw nearly hit the floor as I read over the description.
The Void Terror perk specifically excluded mass summonings, but these Watchers were an exception to the rule. I closed out of the screen, mind spinning—I wasn’t sure what to do with this yet, but this definitely changed things. I moseyed over to Chakan and checked him one more time: still passed out, but alive and improving every minute. I was reluctant to just leave him out here, exposed to any of the remaining Watchers, but I wasn’t about to carry him with the risk that he might wake up and stab me squarely in the back for my trouble.
So instead, I pulled a Health Regen potion from my belt, slipped it into his limp-fingered hand, and took off, beelining for the sacred clearing.
ELEVEN: Ancient Clues
Ten minutes later, I cut through a tangle of leafy trees and sighed in relief as I caught sight of the gray stone circle and ghostly green light radiating out into the forest like nuclear fallout. I picked up my pace, effortlessly leaping a downed log, edging past a tangle of razorleaf vines, and sprinting for the clearing before any other terrible, unexpected surprises could pop out of the shadows and broadside me like a bus. I’d had more than enough surprises and close calls for one day.
The sound of muted conversation, soft and unintelligible, cut off as I stumbled through one of the stone archways, breathing hard and covered in blood, but alive and victorious nonetheless. Every eye swiveled toward me, but only Chief Kolle looked happy or relieved to see me. Aside from Chief Sakal, none of the elders had been openly hostile to me, but those looks—haggard and resigned—told me most of the folks in this clearing had been rooting for Chakan. Chief Dao rounded on me, one eyebrow arched, her arms crossed expectantly. “The horn?” she finally said after a few tense seconds. “Do you have it?”
I cleared my throat, feeling red creep into my cheeks, then dug the beaten brass relic from my bag, holding it up like a trophy, hard-won.
“And my son?” Sakal asked, his jaw clenched, eyes boring into mine. “Dead?” he asked, voice cracking as though he wanted to say more, or ask more, but couldn’t quite force the words out. Once, this may have been merely a game for me, but it had never been a game for these people, I reminded myself. This was their world, the only one they’d ever known.
“He’s alive,” I replied, glancing away, not wanting to hold Sakal’s gaze any longer. “At least he was ten minutes ago. I left him unconscious and wounded in front of the entrance to the catacombs.”
Sakal marched toward me and halted a few feet out. “You could’ve killed him? My boy?” he asked, placing a rough hand, crisscrossed with a network of old scars, on my shoulder.
I sighed, glanced up, and nodded. “I could have, but what would that have accomplished? You and your son? You’re not my enemies, despite what you think.” I paused and surveyed each of the somber faces surrounding me. “None of you are. I love Yunnam. The Storme Marshes are my home now, and my problem is with Robert Osmark and the Ever-Victorious Viridian Empire. And if you’ll let me, I’ll fight for you the same way I’ve fought for the Ak-Hani.”
Sakal’s brow furrowed while a thoughtful frown stole across his face. At last, he squeezed my shoulder, fingers pressing down. “I don’t know you,” he said, “but you spared my son when you could’ve killed him. That doesn’t make us friends, Outsider. In my eyes, you will never be one of us. Never. But perhaps we need not be enemies. In that, only time will tell, but for now, you have my support.” He dipped his head and darted out of the sacred clearing, headed toward the catacombs. A popup flashed before me:
<<<>>>
Reputation Increase
Congratulations! By sparing Chakan, son of Chief Sakal, your relationship with the Lisu Tribe has improved from Unfriendly to Neutral.
<<<>>>
I smiled and closed out the notification.
“Honored Sakal!” Chief Dao hollered, her words laced with confusion. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to get my son,” he called back over one shoulder, not slowing his pace in the least.
“But, but,” she stuttered, “but this is unorthodox!”
“I don’t care. I’m going to get my son,” he finished as he disappeared into the trees, quickly swallowed by the darkness.
We stood
there for a long, quiet beat, everyone watching the trees as though Chief Sakal might emerge any second. But he didn’t. He was gone, making the long trek to find Chakan.
Chief Kolle grunted and cleared his throat, breaking everyone from the thoughtful spell. “Honored Chief Sakal may be gone for a while. Perhaps”—he paused, carefully readjusting his robes—“perhaps it would be best to proceed since Grim Jack has clearly won the Trial of Blood and Bone. Every day this new emperor, Robert Osmark, grows more powerful. We can afford no further delays. If we are to weather the growing storm which is the Empire, we need to act now.”
“Yes, yes of course,” Chief Dao said absently, still expectantly, hopefully, searching the tree line. Finally, she sighed, trudged back to her blocky chair, and plopped down as though she were suddenly feeling all the aches and pains of her many years. “Honored Anurak,” she said to the ancient elder who’d so skillfully spun the tale of the Jade Lord and the subsequent Downfall. “Please, initiate the ritual.”
The man nodded a silent reply as the other chieftains shuffled to their seats, easing down with a chorus of groans and sighs. The elderly chief, Anurak, walked toward me, then draped a rail-thin arm around my shoulder and drew me over to the edge of the roaring green fire. We came to a stop just outside the blackened stone fire pit containing the flames, so close the heat was uncomfortably hot against my skin. Anurak dropped his arm from my shoulders, then carefully turned me until my left shoulder was to the flame and he was directly in front of me.
“The crown?” he said, his voice like the rustling of fall leaves, as he extended one arthritic hand. I removed the helm from my head and offered it to him. “Now your left hand.” It wasn’t a question but a command.
I squinted, suspicious, but complied.
Anurak moved in a blink—faster than seemed possible for such a withered old man—drawing a wicked dagger covered in glowing green runes from his belt and lashing out. The blade, honed to a razor’s edge, sliced through my leather glove, leaving a shallow wound in its wake. I cursed, pulling my hand back as an angry jolt of pain raced up my arm and a line of blood welled along the gash. “What the hell?” I spat, instinctively reaching for my warhammer.
“Peace, Grim Jack,” Chief Kolle called out, his voice calming, soothing. “This is the only way. Do as he says.”
Anurak, completely unconcerned, grabbed my wrist, drawing my wounded hand forward, then pushed the crown into my palm, digging the yellowing bones into the wound until streaks of blood ran over everything. He took my fingers, then, and curled them around the crown, offering me a grim smile and a sharp bob of his head before pulling out a leather pouch from his belt. The same sack he’d used to conjure the strange smoke images. Going through the same, deliberate motions, Anurak eased the bag open and pulled free a measured handful of violet sand, which he fed to the fire.
The flames responded in an instant, roaring higher and higher, burning hotter and hotter. The terrible heat beat against my exposed skin like a furnace. I wanted to flinch and back away, but didn’t, not with all those eyes riveted on me—analyzing me, weighing me, judging me. “The crown,” old Anurak said, nodding at my wounded hand, which was dripping with blood. “Thrust it into the flames and hold it there, exposed to the refining magics of old.”
I grimaced, stealing looks between the column of flame and the stooped Anurak. He isn’t serious, I thought. After searching his face, though, I couldn’t see any hint of a joke. The loony old goat really wanted me to stick my hand in there. Nervous sweat broke out across my brow and a slight tremble worked its way into my limbs. When I glanced over at Chief Kolle, he was nodding subtly at me, yes, this is the way. Do it. I took a shuddering breath, pressed my eyes closed, and wantonly stuck my bloody hand and the Crown of the Jade Lord right into the heart of the fire.
I braced for the pain—muscles rigid, jaw clenched tight—knowing this wouldn’t kill me, but it was bound to hurt like crazy. I waited for the ache to begin, but it didn’t come. I felt the blistering heat against my face, but strangely, my hand was all right. Hesitantly, I cracked an eye. I stared in amazement as comforting tongues of green fire kissed my skin, lapping over the wound on my palm like warm water from the tap. In seconds, the blood disappeared and the polished chunks of jade, inset into the crown, began to glow, bleeding a strange opalescent light.
That light, dancing in a multitude of subtle colors—ruby red and burnt gold, sapphire blue and seafoam green—drifted into the air, loitering above jagged edges of the fire as the image of a city appeared: a small army of elegant crystalline spires, glittering in the harsh noonday sun, rising from a large rocky hill surrounded by yawning desert sands. My breath caught, looking at that city—I’d never seen anything like it, not anywhere—but before I could ask a question, the shining buildings disappeared, replaced by a winding passageway, which ended at set of yawning jaws.
There was a stone doorway set into the skull of a long-dead dragon—its head easily the size of a large SUV and studded with serrated yellowed teeth as big as dagger blades. We flowed through the mouth, down a bone-lined gullet, and into some cultist shrine, or maybe a temple, though I’d never seen a temple like this one. A massive spinal column ran down the center of the ceiling, and the support beams had been fashioned from ribs as large around as small trees, while the spaces in between each rib had been filled with intricately carved sandstone.
Several bookcases lined the left wall, all loaded down with thick leather-bound volumes, while a series of display cases sat on the right, housing a huge array of items—swords, daggers, maces, other trinkets—all carved from even more bone. Several wooden benches filled the room like church pews, and to complete the look, a wooden altar, carved and sculpted to resemble a sinuous dragon twisting around a short column, held a single item: a belt, crafted from dragon scale and studded with alternating chunks of polished jade and dragon bone. In the vision, the belt pulsed with a soft light, which seemed to stretch and reach for me, eager to be rejoined with the crown in my hand.
This, no doubt, was the next set item to be found.
The vision flickered and dulled, fading around the edges, and as it did, terrible heat began to invade my arm. With a yelp, I ripped my hand—and the crown, of course—free from the flames as a flood of notifications popped up in front of me, one right after another:
<<<>>>
x1 Level Up!
You have (5) undistributed stat points. Stat points can be allocated at any time.
You have (6) unassigned proficiency points. Proficiency points can be allocated at any time.
<<<>>>
Quest Update: The Jade Lord
After successfully retrieving the Horn of the Ancients and defeating Chakan, Champion of the Lisu clan, in the Trial of Blood and Bone, you’ve earned the support of the Storme Marsh Chieftains. As your reward, you’ve received 32,000 EXP and the right to embark on the Path of the Jade Lord as the Champion of the six named clans of the Dokkalfar. You have also been awarded 200 renown—in-world fame—for completing this ultra-rare quest. Greater renown elevates you within the ranks of Eldgard and can affect merchant prices when selling or buying.
<<<>>>
Quest Alert: Path of the Jade Lord
As the Champion of the six named clans of the Dokkalfar, you’ve been entrusted with the Crown of the Jade Lord and charged with finding the other two missing items needed to complete the Set of the Jade Lord. Now, you must go to Ankara, deep in the heart of the desolate Barren Sands, and uncover the Cult of Arzokh—deadly acolytes of the Dragon Arzokh, known as the Winged Disciples, who guard the Belt of the Jade Lord. Once you’ve discerned the location of their Citadel, take the belt from the cultists, which will reveal the resting place of the final set piece: the Amulet of the Jade Lord.
Quest Class: Ultra-Rare, Secret
Quest Difficulty: Death-Head
Success: Uncover the Cult of Arzokh Citadel and retrieve the Belt of the Jade Lord.
Failure: This is a Death-He
ad Quest; if you die at any point before completing the objective, you automatically fail and the quest chain will forever be closed to you!
Reward: The Belt of the Jade Lord; Final Clue for the Amulet of the Jade Lord; 40,000 EXP.
Accept: Yes/No?
<<<>>>
I quickly read over the first three notices, closing each one as I finished, but spent a minute reading, then rereading my new quest alert. Though I’d completed several quests with survival as one of the mission requirements, this was the first Death-Head quest I’d seen in the game. I paused and pulled up the wiki, doing a quick search before I committed to something potentially life changing. Bingo. There was only one hit, courtesy of an Osmark Tech Admin with the handle JACOBPAIGE, but it told me everything I needed to know:
<<<>>>
Death-Head Mode
Though there is no Death-Head mode available within Viridian Gate Online regular play, some ultra-rare quest chains—most of which have universal in-game implications—can trigger the Death-Head mode for a select player or group of players until the given quest is accomplished or failed. Death-Head Quests are the most challenging in Viridian Gate Online for a variety of reasons.
First, such quest chains tend to be exceptionally long, requiring the player to conquer multiple top-tier dungeons and defeat several different unique bosses in the process. Second, regular mobs are often replaced with unique NPCs, spawned specifically for the quest chain, who tend to be the most devious and deadly enemies found in Eldgard. Third, Death-Head mode requires that the player not die at any point, for any reason, before completing the entire quest chain. Lastly, Death-Head mode slowly poisons the player or players; following are the effects of the Death-Head debuff per day:
Diseased (24-hour mark): Attack Damage and Spell Strength reduced by 15%; Health, Stamina, and Spirit Regeneration reduced by 25%!
Gut Check (48-hour mark): An additional -10 to all attributes!
Game Over (72-hour mark): Death!
Note, effects are not permanent; they only last until the player either accomplishes the quest chain or dies, at which point all debuffs vanish. Players receiving Death-Head Quests should embark with great caution and extreme preparation!
