by Oliver Mayes
Unrelenting Talisman
Charges: 1/1
Unique effect: Upon using a charge, the next spell you cast will have its casting time reduced to 0.1 seconds for ten seconds.
Damien frowned. A single use item? That was a shame. He’d rather have had an increase to his stats, a new spell he could use or a permanent passive ability. The random number gods had not smiled on him this day.
The artifact would’ve been more valuable in the hands of a caster with high intelligence and heavy hitting spells that had long cast times but no cooldowns. With an ability like Chaotic Bolt, you could fire off dozens in the time it would normally take to cast one. It wouldn’t really benefit spells like Demon Gate or Implosion, since they already had instant casting times but cooldowns of over 10 seconds. He put it away in his inventory, trying not to show his disappointment.
“Thank you for reminding me, Bart. I’ll try and put it to good use.”
“It was my pleasure. Try not to die again.”
Bartholomew gave his standard curt nod and seamlessly floated out the door. Damien was at last allowed to sit and think about what he should do next. At least one thing came to mind. He dismissed two of the base’s imps, granting himself a single soul. Then he pointed at the floor and resummoned Noigel.
The imp dropped through and landed at his feet before taking in his surroundings. Then he looked up at Damien, his usual sardonic grin giving way to a surprised ‘O’ as he took in Damien’s empty gear slot and the bare legs below the hem of his robes. With Noigel resummoned there were exactly ten imps in the base, granting him Forbidden Knowledge. He knew what the missing gear meant, and he didn’t find it funny at all. He raised his eyes to meet Damien’s own, his face twisting in agony.
“What happened? Were there more outside?”
Damien nodded slowly. That pretty much covered it. Noigel wrung his hands around the top of his hairless head, venting his frustration in a piercing screech that made the other imps stop and stare.
“Don’t worry. Even if I died, something good came out of it. Give me a few minutes to figure out what we’re doing today. I’ll call you when I need you.”
Noigel saluted, his lingering anger clear from his narrowed eyes and clenched fists, then stomped behind the Gateway to pout in private. The other imps might not have been as clever as he was, but they knew well enough to cut him a wide berth.
Damien rose to his feet. It was good to be back. It wasn’t the coziest place in the world, but he’d spent more time here over the last few days than anywhere else. It might not have catered to his physical needs, but it was the place he was most familiar with and had control over.
It felt like home. Almost.
Damien checked his item chest, seeing if he had anything to cover his bare legs with. He only had the rags. Still, just like when he’d started, they were better than nothing. He selected them and they appeared over his legs, a little scratchy but otherwise tolerable. It was a shame he’d either traded all his back-up gear for an upgrade or broken it down for parts. The rags would have to do.
He opened his Stat page and inspected the Soul Well simultaneously, comprehensively reviewing his situation. It was a bit of a mess. Ten imps was not much of a fighting force. He’d have to replenish his minions if he was going to be of any use. His Soul Well was still 6 souls shy of full capacity as well, at 24/30. Last, but not least, the missing leggings of his Occultist Adept set had cut his endurance, agility, constitution and wisdom by eighteen points each, thanks largely to losing the set bonus. The worst part of this for Damien was that his Soul Summon Limit had gone down from 25 to 23. He still had five hours before Lillian returned. That would be enough time to replenish his Soul Summon Limit, gather souls to max out his Soul Well and fill his base with minions while he was at it. He certainly wasn’t going to spend five hours sitting around here doing nothing.
Damien bound all ten imps to himself and picked his way through the traps littering The Downward Spiral, the imps avoiding the gauntlet by simply flying up through the open space in the middle.
What had once seemed like a dangerous journey was now a simple trip. Damien's route away from the road, coupled with his familiarity of the mountain passage between Tintagel and Brociliande, allowed him to arrive at the next zone in less than twenty minutes. He was now the same level as his old avatar, Scorpius, and he knew a good Player vs Environment zone deep in the forest with reasonably straightforward enemies. He’d have to keep an eye out for players, but he’d be able to harvest soul energy there in relative safety.
Soon he came to a barrier of trees and stepped through them, halting at the edge of the meadow within to observe. It was an open space, full of wild boar clumped together in groups of three. They were level 26, high enough to be worthy enemies but not high enough to pose a significant threat. Ideal for farming soul energy, even if it would take a little longer than dealing with more dangerous foes. Thankfully, there were no other players in sight. Grinding was not a popular way to level up.
Damien pointed at the nearest group and his imps charged out of cover, swarming over the boars like ants and attacking them in a rain of claws. He made a mental note to re-equip his imps with tridents when he got back, as long as he had the materials to do so. The reduced damage from their lack of equipment resulted in each boar impaling an imp on their tusks before being overwhelmed. But each boar dropped a soul on death. A net gain of zero imps. Damien looted the bodies, then summoned a hell hound instead and withdrew his Sacrificial Dagger to join the fray. That should speed things up.
With the hound occupying an enemy, Damien only lost two imps to the next group. So he summoned another hell hound, converting his utility-focused imps to close combat troops by degrees. Once he had three hounds, it became possible to take down the enemies consistently without too many casualties.
Damien was now glad he’d decided to campaign against Rising Tide early in his leveling. He’d forgotten just how long it had taken him to get Scorpius to level 28, and why. Players granted far more XP than he’d get from normal mobs, thanks to his Soul Harvest ability. They also awarded souls more consistently, and their unpredictability could be negated by luring them into traps and taking them by surprise. Unless they had the same idea, as he’d so recently discovered to his cost.
It was a high risk, high reward playstyle, and he’d experienced both sides of that balancing act. Playing an occultist in the manner of a regular class, doing quests and killing mobs, would be a rather arduous process at lower levels with only imps and wraiths as servants. Even those damned rats had caused him grief early on.
All in all, it was a longer process farming souls this way. Still, it was a safe, if time consuming, system for replenishing his army.
He’d refilled his minion count and had just finished filling his Soul Reserve when a blue chat box popped up, along with a dialing tone. It was Lillian.
Thinking he’d lost track of time during the battles, he checked the clock. It was only 14:30. That was odd. She wasn’t due back for another three hours. Damien called his minions in to protect him while he was occupied.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“I got home a few minutes ago, now I’m standing outside your base. Come here. We’re going on a little trip.”
She hung up. Whatever was going on, it had to be serious if she’d left work early. Damien activated a new portal back to the base and sent all his minions through before following after them. He looked over his forces briefly.
Fourteen imps and three hell hounds. The beginnings of a new army. He gratefully dumped 6 souls into his Soul Well, finally bringing it to 30/30. Then he led his party back up the stairs of The Downward Spiral again.
They broke the surface and Damien picked his way through the trees, coming to the edge of the shadowy veil nearest the road. He poked his head through and was met with a gorgeous sight.
On his way up, he’d been wondering how Lillian could have got there so quickly. The enormous brown wa
rhorse she sat on was more than answer enough. She stirred and gave Damien a grin, tossing him a bundle of fabric with her free hand.
“I believe these are yours. Put ’em on and let’s get going.”
Damien looked at the bundle. His lost leggings. He equipped them and they phased out of his hands back to where they belonged. He was complete again. He gave himself a quick inspection before stepping out of the forest and into full view of the outside world.
His horde of demons followed him out, eyeing Lillian suspiciously but remaining docile at his instruction. Lillian’s mouth dropped open. For a moment Damien thought she was impressed, then she started rapidly shaking her head.
“Can’t take them with you, man. There are too many and we need to keep a low profile. Unsummon them for now.”
Damien stared at her incredulously. She might as well have asked him to throw away his daggers because the pointy bits were dangerous. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Lillian wasn’t in the mood for debate.
“Did I forget to mention we're in a hurry? No? So hurry! Get rid of them, now!”
Damien gave up. Lillian wasn’t going to listen. Whatever had brought her back so early had her agitated. If she wasn’t going to let him have his minions, he should at least have a full Soul Reserve. He thought about it and dismissed the three hell hounds first, getting 4.5 soul energy refunded. Then he dismissed three imps to get the last 1.5 souls he needed to bring his Soul Reserve to max. When he cast a portal to send what was left through, he realized he’d miscalculated again: the portal had cost another soul to open.
Muttering darkly under his breath so that Lillian wouldn’t hear, he dismissed a final two imps before ordering the pitiful remnants of his afternoon’s labors back to the base. A mere nine imps. It was one less than he’d started with, but at least his Soul Well and his Soul Reserve were both full. It was well concealed, but he had in fact made progress.
Noigel was the last to pass through, but before he could go Damien beckoned him back to his side. If Noigel was bound to his base, he wouldn’t be able to resummon him wherever they were going. He might be needed. Lillian eyeballed the offending imp pointedly, her impatience palpable. Damien responded by ordering Noigel to take refuge under his cloak and eyeballing her back. He’d already sacrificed half his army on her say-so, he wasn’t going to compromise on this.
“Where are we going?”
Lillian glared at him for a few moments longer, then relented, smacking her hand on the saddle behind her. Damien didn’t ask again. He leapt on, helped up by Lillian’s gauntleted hand.
As they set off, Noigel poked his head out from the folds of Damien’s cloak and gave him an imploring, drawn-out stare. He couldn’t speak without any other imps fueling his ‘We Are Many’ ability, but Damien knew why he was so spooked.
He hadn’t gotten around to telling Noigel that Lillian was on their side. He’d have explained it if there wasn’t a more immediate problem coming up. Having spent the last three days painstakingly avoiding the road, Lillian was ploughing them straight onto it in broad daylight.
“Uh, Lillian, can we be a bit more subtle? I’m not a big fan of traveling where—”
He was cut off by a text window that popped into his peripheral vision. He focused and drew it to the center.
Lillian has invited you to join her party. Accept/Decline.
He accepted just as they pulled onto the road itself. A new health bar appeared above his own and Noigel’s, with a whopping 1500 health in it. Lillian immediately raised the tempo, spurring her steed into a full gallop.
“As long as you’re in my party, it won’t be a problem. I’ve been doing quests for the Empire for two months and my reputation with them is Exalted. As long as I’m party leader and you keep your mouth shut, we’ll be fine.”
She sounded pretty sure of herself, but Damien couldn’t help worrying. It was totally ingrained in him to avoid attention on the move by now, on and offline. What she had to say next increased his anxiety tenfold.
“We’re going to Rising Tide’s waiting room.”
Damien stared at the back of her head listlessly. All the big guilds had settlements connected to each other with portals. The biggest guilds would also build a compound, accessible to select players from the portal stone network.
These specialized settlements served as clubhouses, areas for the high-level guild members to relax until enough people came online to form a party. Damien raised his voice to be heard over the sound of Noigel’s gibbering.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said, more calmly than he felt. “I’ve only just got back, I’m not ready for an all out fight.”
“That’s OK, neither are they. Right now, Aetherius has all his best players on a giant forty-man raid with him for a special stream tonight. All his strongest are knee-deep in monsters. The waiting room’s almost empty. It’s the last place they’ll expect to be attacked and it’s the perfect time to do it.”
Damien mulled it over. The reasoning was sound; the target, not so much.
“Why do we have to hit the most dangerous available option? Can’t we do something safer? Like, I dunno… cover ourselves in cooking oil and fight a dragon?”
Lillian abruptly pulled on the reins and the horse drew to a stop, right next to a pair of guardsmen on horseback. Damien quickly concealed Noigel under his cloak, but he needn’t have bothered. The NPCs gave her a cheerful wave and Lillian waved back as the two of them rode past. Damien may as well not have existed. She turned in the saddle to look at him directly, her eyes boring into his skull.
“Look. You’ve done well over the last few days. Really. I don’t think anyone’s ever leveled so fast. But it’s not enough. You may have hurt Rising Tide, but you haven’t even touched Aetherius. I was waiting for him to post your death and it never came. Then it hit me. He doesn’t want to acknowledge you as an enemy. He’s only got to ride out the competition for a couple more days and he’ll win by a landslide. We have to bring the fight to him.”
Damien returned her stare. Noigel had stopped gibbering and was listening with interest. Damien remained unconvinced.
“I already died once. Just turn this horse around and let me—”
Her closed fist whacked into his shoulder. She’d pulled the punch and Damien’s pain settings were low, but it still hurt like hell. 56 points of damage in a single unarmed attack. Good grief. She made Bartholomew look like a wuss.
“There is no time! For some reason, they haven’t kicked me out of the guild yet. They ignore me, and they’ve removed all my privileges, but I can still see the notifications. They’re going into lockdown this weekend, then they’ll sit in their fortified positions and hold their defenses until the competition ends.”
She muttered under her breath and pointed at Damien. He was filled with warmth at the core of his body and then it all flowed into his shoulder, healing his wound. Damien had never been healed by another person before. It felt every bit as soothing as watching his hit points rise. Lillian patted him on the same shoulder, some of the intensity fading from her stare. She was remorseful but undeterred.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day. We need to do something big to boost your campaign. This is that thing. But you’re going to have to follow my lead and do exactly as I say. Can you do that, or should we find you some cooking oil?”
Noigel was poking Damien in the chest. His color had returned, his eyes set and unflinching. Without looking away from Damien, he pointed at Lillian and nodded vigorously. Great. So now Noigel was in Lillian’s camp as well. Everybody was in a rush to die today.
“Fine. Let’s get on with it. The sooner we die, the sooner we respawn tomorrow.”
He expected an angry retort. Instead, Lillian smiled broadly and tousled his hair.
“Awwww, dat’s da spiwit!”
Noigel brayed laughter for all of half a second until Damien shot him a glance that would have made Toutatis flinch. The imp hurriedly turned and stared str
aight at Lillian’s back, his hands clamped over his mouth.
“Sorry, Damien,” Lillian said, barely holding back a laugh. “This is really important. I’d do it alone, but you’re the one who needs exposure here. You’ll be disabling their base while I whittle down their numbers, and then you’ll deal the coup de grace: we’re going to record you killing Aetherius’s pride and joy.”
Damien raised an eyebrow.
“Kill? It’s just an outpost. It’s not alive.”
She shot him a grin that had no place on a paladin’s face.
“No, that’s not what I meant. Aetherius’s pride and joy is inside the base. And you’re going to kill it.”
Without waiting for his reply, Lillian dug her heels in and the horse surged ahead. Damien almost fell off, his arms wrapping around the only thing he could see to hold on to: Lillian’s waist. It was covered in plate mail and she would barely have felt a thing, but beneath his headset, Damien went a deep shade of Noigel red.
“So, are you listening? Here’s the plan…”
30
Assault
It didn’t take long for Lillian to explain the plan of attack. They were just entering Brociliande by the time she finished, passing through the Empire’s guard post with no more resistance than smiles and waves.
After all his reservations Damien hated to admit it, but it was a good plan. On paper. Whether everything would go as smoothly as Lillian described was another matter entirely. But now he knew what the real target was, he could see why she was so excited. He was getting fired up himself just thinking about it. There was just one, teeny, tiny problem.
“You know I can’t resummon minions from my base, right? I can only summon new ones to help us. My portal only works one way.”
