by Sarah Lin
"Wh-what?" Danniah flushed and instinctively grabbed the sack at her side that held her helm. "This is ridiculous.... I don't see how everyone still thinks I'm a vicious murderer... except... wait. Meara, are you encouraging this?"
"Maybe, maybe not." Meara flashed her a smirk.
"Oh, you are just awful."
"Yeah, I am. Anyway, I'm starting to think that I won't be able to find a mage we can trust." Meara reached into her cloak, but of course it was more than that. It might have looked like her hand entered a pocket in her cloak, but instead it reached into an abyss. She didn't carry items, she carried the abstract concept of items. The Outsiders had intended it only as a cheap system to provide novice adventurers with anything they needed, but with the right twist... her hand emerged holding the silver sphere. "And I haven't been able to make any progress on this at all, myself. I'm afraid that I might be limited to herbalist talents."
"It would be a lot of fun to get one of these for myself, but I know it won't be easy." Danniah took the sphere from her and turned it over in her hands. "You know, when I was a girl I never even imagined I would touch something like this. The biggest I ever dreamed was to maybe be an accepted adventurer in a big city like Cresthaven."
"Then you've already surpassed your dreams. Good for you, huh?"
"I'm sorry, did that make you sad?" Danniah lowered the sphere and looked at her in concern. "I know you try to joke about it, but... well, I know you might not want to talk about that. Did you have dreams before it all happened? Before the Forest, I mean."
"I have trouble remembering. And I'm not sure even those memories can be fully trusted."
"Oh... then I'm sorry for bringing it up..."
"Don't be." Meara reached out and ruffled Danniah's hair with a smile. "It means that the memories that matter to me, the ones that I can trust, are the ones I've made recently with the two of you." And it was true, though she said it in part to cheer Danniah up. The other woman smiled back, then sighed.
"You seem like you've gotten new, bigger dreams, though. I still have things I'd like to do, but they don't really... feel very grand. Certainly not compared to Bloodwraith. I mean, I imagine he wakes up and thinks 'I'm going to conquer breakfast!' and then has a world domination scheme by the time he's done eating."
Meara chuckled and leaned back on the edge of the fountain, staring skyward. "You don't have to be Bloodwraith, though. In fact, you definitely shouldn't - double the Bloodwraith is a scary thought. But what I mean is that most people aren't nearly as driven as him. Most people never live their lives that way."
"I don't think I want to be 'most people', though." Danniah sighed and it looked like she might be about to say something serious, but at that moment Meara heard a whispering shift in the currents of the plaza.
Not exactly like a threat, though it could be. Nothing like the quiet caused by Bloodwraith or the disturbance from Raigar. Meara wasn't sure what it was, and that bothered her. Danniah noticed that something was wrong and went quiet, looking about carefully.
But it wasn't anyone trying to sneak up on them: Meara immediately caught sight of Gharavi moving down the street toward them. The half-orc woman was back to her ridiculous outfit, showing off so much of that flawless green skin. Yet there was no false stupidity in her eyes now and she was headed straight toward them, so a meeting was inevitable.
Danniah hopped to her feet, pulling her shield and mace into position. Meara had no equivalent method of preparing for battle, but she stopped relaxing. Instead of enjoying a true moment with Danniah, she saw the world for what it was: tangled power. And Gharavi stood out more than the average adventurer, though not in a way Meara had ever seen before.
"You know where strong male is?" Gharavi came to stand in front of them and folded her arms - Meara noted that she folded them like a normal person, instead of beneath her breasts to emphasize them. "Need talk him."
Though Meara had considered several strategies, that introduction made the decision for her. "Oh, don't even try that bullshit with us. We saw you fight."
Gharavi shot her a sharp glance, but then simply grunted. "Am strong shaman."
"That sounds like another flavor of bullshit to me."
"Need talk to strong male."
Danniah lowered her equipment a bit and looked up at her. "Your name is Gharavi, right?"
"Yes. That Gharavi's name."
"Uh, hi, Gharavi. I'm not sure what your deal is, exactly, but thank you for helping us during the battle. But do you get how we don't really know anything about you and you might seem a bit suspicious? You seem nice, and I'd like to trust you, but you're making that kind of difficult."
Would such a blunt, naive approach actually work? Though Meara would never have tried it herself, she had to admit it was a useful part of their arsenal. It made Gharavi pause for much longer, staring down at Danniah as if she wasn't entirely sure what to think of her. Eventually she shook her head and spoke in the same gruff voice.
"Gharavi not speak good, but need give warning."
"Oh, come on," Meara said. "Do you really expect us to believe that voice?"
"What wrong with my voice?"
"Aha!" Meara stabbed out a finger. "You use first and third person inconsistently! Explain that in grunting half-speech!"
Gharavi glowered at her and for a moment Meara wondered if she would attack - not that an attack would be a problem. For a time they just stared at each other, but when Meara refused to back down, eventually the half-orc woman sighed and rubbed her face.
"That's not how it actually works. Most half-orcs who can't speak well aren't following different grammatical rules, they're inconsistently copying other patterns." Gharavi's real voice was husky but clear, completely different from her barbarian act. "My speech was completely accurate for the type; it's your fault that you don't know enough about half-orcs."
Meara smirked. "Maybe I knew that and was just drawing you out."
"That is clearly untrue. Now you're the one presenting different flavors of bullshit."
Beside them, Danniah dropped out of her defensive stance and smiled. "Nice to finally talk to you for real! For whatever it's worth, I would have believed it if Raigar wasn't so suspicious of you. But why did you have to keep up an act like that?"
Instead of answering immediately, Gharavi shook her head. She toyed with the bone talisman at her neck almost unconsciously before she finally answered. "I couldn't trust either of you since you were with him. I'm still not sure I can. You need to understand, he isn't who he pretends to be."
"There's no pretending, he's our friend! And I don't see why you're getting so upset about him when the real enemy is... uh, the lich that's threatening the city."
"No!" Gharavi stepped forward, meeting Meara's gaze intensely. "They might look different, but the two of them are fundamentally the same! I don't have all the answers, and I haven't figured out the reason yet, but this is... it's just a game to them. They pretend to care about the stakes, but all they want is the battle."
Though Meara kept her face in her neutral merchant's mask, it took some effort to swallow her surprise. This conversation had just become much more interesting. While the implications of Gharavi's words seemed clear enough, there were many unknowns and so many potential pitfalls. Danniah clearly understood as well and looked to Meara for confirmation, but neither of them knew where to go from there.
Seeing them exchange glances, Gharavi turned away sourly. "But of course you just think I'm mad. Everyone else does."
"Outsiders." Meara said the word softly, but it was enough to stop the half-orc woman. She turned back to them, eyes widening, and Meara smiled. "You're not mad, but you're wrong. You think we're just pawns, but that's not true. Not anymore."
"Then you actually understand? After so long, I was beginning to wonder about myself..."
Danniah smiled encouragingly. "I don't think we're on opposite sides! You seem to know things that we don't, so maybe we can exchange information?"
"It's not that simple." The surprise vanished from Gharavi's face as she regained her usual razor-sharp focus. "I don't understand how you can work with one of them. Do you not understand how they twist reality around them? Right now you're being manipulated and you don't even know it."
Meara stepped forward until she was almost touching the other woman. Though she had to look up to lock eyes with Gharavi, she didn't look away or even blink. "Look me in the eye and say that again, if you can."
With that, Meara loosened her grip on herself. She allowed the fragments of past lives to begin to drift away from her core, felt her false merchant face emerge in a different direction, heard something much deeper and darker floating toward the surface...
A moment later she came back together. Gharavi had taken a step backward, eyes wide. "I... I believe you. And I don't think we need to be enemies - that's why I came to speak with you, after all. But I need some reassurance that I can trust one of them."
"Don't worry, he's not-" Danniah started to answer, but cut off when Meara raised a hand by her face. Meara shook her head slightly, then turned back to Gharavi.
"That isn't our secret to share. But trust me when I say that I know them, and I hate them. 'Raigar' is not who you think he is."
Gharavi stared at her for a long time, then let out a sigh. "Very well, I suppose I can accept that for now. But I expect him to be more forthright once we speak."
"Not so fast. What reason do we have to trust you?"
"Yeah!" Danniah said. "Why do you keep approaching him and talking about mating and stuff?"
That was... perhaps not the most relevant question at the moment. Yet as Gharavi shifted uncomfortably, Meara realized that it wasn't a bad approach. She still had a question of her own, but this answer could reveal much. Eventually Gharavi coughed and answered.
"I wanted to gather information on Outsiders, by any means necessary. The act was so no one would suspect me when I did strange things. Approaching him was just another means to the same end - males like them always think less of females they think they can own."
Meara frowned, weighing that answer. "I see your logic, but I don't understand how you targeted him. Did you know we were coming? If so, how?"
"I didn't plan any of this." Gharavi paused, then threw up her hands and sighed. "My real target in Manascas was Elbarith. Do you know him? He's the man who attends every Red Sands tournament and delights in the bloodshed."
"We know of him. Go on." That was an interesting turn. Unless Gharavi was an extremely quick liar, Meara thought her explanation had the ring of truth.
"He's an Outsider, but not like the other two. According to the records I've found, he's one of the Aesidh. Whatever world they come from originally, they invade others in order to play cruel games. Elbarith seems to have grown bored with that and stayed here."
"But I take it you weren't able to get close to him?"
"No luck at all, and then you and your friend arrived. The two of them trigger the same spells I used to find Elbarith - actually, the results were even more intense." Gharavi shook her head slowly, fingers playing over the bones hanging from her neck. "I think the Aesidh were once the only travelers between worlds. But recently, less than a hundred years, there have been more visitors. Whoever they are, they're powerful and dangerous. Not cruel like the Aesidh, just... uncaring. As if the world is a game to them."
"Because it is." Meara nodded, realizing that she'd come to her conclusion. "We can work together, but you need to meet 'Raigar' first. Not because we answer to him or because he's controlling us, but because he's an essential part of all this."
"That isn't his real name, is it?"
"No." Meara smiled and gestured for her to follow. "We have a lot to talk about."
Chapter 17
Bloodwraith wasn't sure if the boxes had changed necromancy, or if he was the one who had changed. He remembered spending hours doing nothing but expanding his power and raising basic undead, over and over again. Yet now that he sought to regain that power, he found his mind wandering. Perhaps it was simply that this was no longer new territory for him.
Regardless of the reason, he didn't let it shake his focus. He was not some peasant to be distracted by the slightest thing.
So far, he had raised his Undead Companion skill to 9 and kept at it, because he was certain the 10th level would include some additional benefit. The work had also increased his maximum mana by 3 points, which would be helpful when using empowered barbarian skills. Frustratingly, the empowering skill increased slowly, currently still stuck at 4, which meant it was still not cost effective. The boxes had granted him an additional Intellect point as well.
All of that should have been enough. He was making real progress and he had numbers to prove it. Though he still needed to work via the boxes, he could sense the undead creatures that faced them much more easily than before. Perhaps he might even develop far enough for general necromancy skills to become available.
Yet still, he found his mind wandering. So much so that he had begun using Izilthor to lure more undead from unexplored chambers of the crypt, to interrupt his work with more combat. He told himself that it was simply efficient use of his time, but he knew that there was an element of boredom as well.
"Da!" His ruminations were interrupted by a screech. Izilthor - not panicked, just alerting him.
Footsteps were coming closer, down the narrow corridor toward the choke point room. Many parts of the crypt were too narrow for him to fight effectively, so he used this one against targets. Bloodwraith carefully placed the necromancy case back into his bag, rose to stand beside the door, and lifted his sword into position.
Izilthor came sprinting out of the corridor and apparently tripped, sliding to the ground. But that was just a ruse, designed to make the undead chasing it close in for the kill.
They didn't see Bloodwraith swinging until it was too late. As usual, his empowered Sword of Rage skill cleaved through the group, tearing them apart before the battle could even begin. A cheap tactic, but the boxes only cared about destroying enemies, not how those deaths were accomplished.
There were two wights and two skeletons in this group - more than usual. His sword got stuck in the last one's torso, plus the severed halves were still moving, struggling to attack with whatever weapons they could reach. Bloodwraith cursed and knocked the wight off his sword with a burst of force, then began slashing at the others. Izilthor soon joined in, slashing at them eagerly. It had taken more damage during the chase, he noted, but nothing that couldn't be fixed given some time for mana regeneration.
At last the group lay destroyed. Bloodwraith leaned against his sword, waiting for what he knew was coming...
[Victory! You received 3525 EXP, Wight Bodies x2, and Skeleton Bodies x2.]
But more importantly, he heard the now familiar line of music...
[Congratulations! You gained a level!
Current Level: 12
Current EXP: 537/129,600
Unassigned Stat Points: 5]
Though the new raw power pleased him, Bloodwraith found himself a bit dissatisfied as he stared at the box. Perhaps it was the fact that he had barely passed the required EXP value, but acquiring more than 100,000 EXP to the next level seemed like a very daunting task. True, it was much easier to gain EXP here in Manascas, but compared to the likely amount of time he had...
He found himself wondering what Level Raigar had been when he defeated the Master Lich. Definitely higher than this, given that the monsters further in the desert had been stronger than those around Manascas, much less those kept in the central lair. If only he had been able to get more answers from him...
Once more he found himself going over every word of their conversation. Though Raigar had not been as alien as expected, displaying a stupidity that was depressingly familiar, there were many fragments that he couldn't explain. Unfortunately, it seemed that Raigar was completely unwilling, or possibly unable, to negotiate, so there would be n
o simple answers there.
Sighing, Bloodwraith set the matter aside and instead focused on distributing his new points. For a long time he had been placing 2 in Might, 2 in Quickness, and 1 in Vitality each level. But compared to the Scepter of Annihilation, which could deal nearly 1000 points of damage with each blast, investing in Vitality felt pointless.
He placed 4 points into Might, which brought it to a value of 50 without enchantments, in the hopes that there would be some sort of bonus for reaching 50. No such luck. Perhaps it would have been wiser to improve Quickness, since dodging would be more important, but all he could do was place the last point there. Better than nothing, but it wouldn't tilt the balance.
Then, without warning, Bloodwraith heard the level music again. His head swung up and he looked around for a box, but nothing materialized until he set eyes on Izilthor, who was chewing through the newest corpses.
[Congratulations! Undead Companion "Izilthor" has obtained a total of 100 Necromancy Points!
Second tier undead classes are now unlocked.
NOTE: NP gained from base build stats, user skill bonuses, or disadvantageous traits do not count toward tier requirements.
Current Unassigned Points: 59]
Bloodwraith blinked in surprise. He'd been so focused on his own development that it had never occurred to him that Izilthor might be nearing a threshold. Usually the boxes gave clear requests for a certain number of points, but he was not going to refuse an additional advantage. Part of him was pleased at the unexpected benefit.
Another part of him was slightly unimpressed that the boxes couldn't come up with a different song for undead. Perhaps the box gods did not care for music.
Meanwhile, Izilthor seemed to have noticed the change as well. Instead of eating the last corpse, it perked up and clapped its hand bones together happily. Likely not just a reflection of his happiness, either - Izilthor seemed to understand that something had changed.
