by James Hunter
A critical hit, then.
I rolled onto my side, pressing one palm to my forehead, trying to keep the world from spinning out of control as a combat notification popped up, notifying me that I was royally screwed:
∞∞∞
Debuffs Added
Concussed: You have sustained a severe head injury! Confusion and disorientation; duration, 1 minute.
Blunt Trauma: You have sustained severe Blunt Trauma damage! Stamina Regeneration reduced by 30%; duration, 2 minutes.
∞∞∞
I shook my head, dismissing the notice, then stared up at the hulking form of Chakan standing over me, his mace, spattered with blood, upraised and leaning casually against his shoulder pauldron. I scrambled back, awkwardly crab-walking away, which didn’t get me far. He lashed out again, his weapon smashing into my bicep, unleashing a power attack—probably Savage Blow, one of my own favorite blunt weapon attacks—which shattered the bone despite my Ancient Artifact armor. I toppled, crying out as I involuntarily dropped my warhammer, clutching at my broken left arm.
Another notification:
∞∞∞
Debuff Added
Fractured Arm: You cannot use your left arm and cannot cast mage spells requiring hand gestures; duration, 2 minutes.
∞∞∞
“You don’t need to die,” Chakan said with a shrug, lacking his father’s fiery rhetoric. “My father, he hates Outsiders. Hates the Ak-Hani. Me?” He frowned and rocked his head from side to side. “Not so much. Those are old grudges from a different age. My fight is against the Empire. About that, at least, we are in agreement. But”—he shrugged again and pointed at the crown decorating my brow—“that belongs to me, not you. Give me the horn and I’ll walk away and leave you be. Perhaps, in time, I’ll even be able to persuade the council to reinstate Chief Kolle.” He reached out an expectant hand. “But only if you don’t fight me in this.”
In my battered and broken state, there wasn’t much I could do. Sure, I could try to flee into the Shadowverse, but what were the chances there would be a small army of Void Watchers waiting for me? Pretty good, considering what Devil had said. Instead, I pushed myself up onto my good elbow and offered him a lopsided smile, then clumsily gained my feet, reeling in place as I bent over and picked up my hammer. “I’m not just going to hand it over, pal,” I replied, raising my weapon with a grimace.
Chakan smirked and canted his head to the side as though he were seeing me for the first time. “Well, you’ll die on your feet. There’s a certain honor in that, I suppose.”
He shot in, feinting left, his mace flying in a tight arc. I jumped back, jerking my warhammer up, narrowly diverting the blow. Chakan didn’t seem to care. He just grinned like this was all some game—some joke with me as the punch line—and continued his advance. He stepped in, bringing one foot up and blasting me in the chest with a brutal front kick. His foot landed like a wrecking ball. I reeled from the blow, wheezing for air, but he followed up the attack with a contemptuous backhand slap, which sent me sprawling to the ground.
Instead of finishing me on the spot, he paused and quirked an eyebrow, gesturing for me to stand. “I caught you unaware,” he said, “hardly a fair or honorable fight. It’s only right I offer you a fighting chance.”
I nodded, spit out a fat wad of bloody phlegm, and pushed myself back upright. I retreated another few steps, hoping to buy enough time for these damn debuffs to wear off—if I could get the use of my left arm back, I might actually have a shot. I took another step back and stopped abruptly, my back butting up against the broad trunk of one of the two trees guarding the entrance to the tomb. I had another thirty seconds before the fractured arm debuff lapsed, but there was nowhere else to go. No place left to retreat to.
Chakan’s face was somber now, his eyes hard and serious, as though he realized the game was finally up and it was time to end things and cash in his chips. “You’re a traveler, one of the deathless ones, so we’ll meet again, no doubt.” He raised his mace high, preparing for the killing blow—
Something big, black, and winged dropped from one of the branches overhead, landing on Chakan’s back: the big bad boss chimp who’d almost crushed my head with a boulder. It was critically wounded—its fur matted and bloody, blackened char marks riddling its body, one of its wings torn down to a stump—but it was alive and kicking. Well, biting. Lanky arms wrapped around Chakan in a crushing bear hug as blunt teeth sank down into his unprotected neck like some sort of vampire. Blood spurted out from the wound as the Shadow Knight thrashed, twirling this way and that, bucking up and down like a rodeo bull, fighting to dislodge the clinging chimp.
I didn’t waste the opportunity.
TEN:
Nikko
I grabbed a Health Regen potion from my belt, killed the thing—raising my HP back up to over 50%—then dropped into a crouch and bolted, slinking off for the trees while cloaked in Stealth and shadow. I’d made it to the tree line when I heard a dull thump and a guttural squawk. My steps faltered, and I couldn’t help but glance over a shoulder in sheer curiosity. Chakan stood victorious, his cruel mace raised high, ready to end the boss chimp lying bruised and broken on the ground—its face swollen, one eye now missing, its chest hardly rising.
For a second, which dragged and dragged, I simply watched, unsure what to do. Chakan was hurt, true, but he was still in better shape than I was, and once he offed the ape, he’d come for me. No doubt about it. Maybe I’d make a clean getaway, I had a bit of a head start and the advantage of Stealth, but if he did find me … what were the chances that I’d catch another lucky break? Not good. Abysmal, even. Plus, there was the boss chimp to consider. It was a monster—a dangerous, cunning one at that—but it had also saved my life.
Run away, my brain nattered over and over again like a song stuck on repeat.
Stay and fight, my instincts urged against all logic.
My left hand—better, now that the fractured arm debuff had finally worn off—shot out on its own, and before I could fully think things through, I unleashed a shadowy Umbra Bolt. The spell streaked through the unnatural dark, slamming into Chakan’s mace as it began its descent; an explosion of swirling purple light ripped the weapon from his outstretched hand, hurling it end over end into a clump of bushy swamp ferns. Chakan stared at his empty hand, confusion and bewilderment sprinting across his face in turns.
He certainly hadn’t expected that.
Before he could get his bearings, I followed up with Umbra Bog—unleashing a barrage of inky tendrils from the ground, snaring the befuddled knight as I rushed him. In a blink, I closed the distance and slammed a shoulder into his side, throwing him off balance. I followed up with a gauntleted fist, catching the brawny warrior on the chin while simultaneously casting Black Caress, one of my Shadowmancer specialties. Most of my special weapon attacks were tied to blunt weapons, but not Black Caress; any attack, with any weapon—even a fist—could be enhanced with deadly Umbra power.
There was a burst of shadow as warmth and life trickled up through my knuckles and into my body, reinvigorating me like a shot of good coffee. I spun, twirling my warhammer around in a wicked arc, triggering Savage Blow as I blasted Chakan on the side of the head. My weapon shattered his jaw; several teeth sailed free in a spray of gore as he spun and fell, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head. He landed hard, his arms and legs splayed out, his eyes closed. I inched forward until I loomed over him and prodded his body with the toe of my boot.
He grunted but made no other move.
His HP was in the critical zone and flashing an angry red, but he was stable. Just unconscious, apparently.
I absently rotated the warhammer, glancing between the jutting spike on top of the weapon and the downed Shadow Knight, lying vulnerable and helpless. He was out cold—it would only take one hit to end him for good. An easy win and some easy EXP, no doubt.
Except, I couldn’t.
He wasn’t a bad guy, not really, and even mor
e importantly, he was an NPC … If I killed him here, that would be it. The end of the line. I didn’t want that on my shoulders, even though I doubted there would be any sort of negative consequence for doing so. And speaking of the end of the line: I sighed and moved over to the boss chimp. It was lying on the ground, battered and nearly dead, its HP bar hanging just a fingernail’s width above zero. I stared down at the weak monster, deciding whether it was best to put it out of its misery and claim whatever meager loot it had to offer or walk away.
Instead, recalling the twinge of connection I’d felt earlier, I dropped to a knee, reached over, and slapped the creature on the cheek a few times. After a few persistent smacks, the chimp opened its eyes, staring at me with a mixture of bloody murder and begrudging respect, a silent snarl fixed on its lips. I searched its face—curious about whether or not this thing really was a Void Terror—halting on its angry violet eyes, which were almost swollen shut from the beating it had taken. A few taut seconds answered the question for me as a prompt appeared:
∞∞∞
You have initiated a Contest of Wills with a weakened Void Terror. Would you like to cast the conjuration spell Terror Bound in order to complete the Contest and attempt to bind the [Greater Void Watcher]?
Note: if you successfully capture the Greater Void Watcher you will utilize your (1) Void Terror ability slot; if you fail, you will immediately be sent for respawn.
Accept: Yes/No?
∞∞∞
I considered the notice for a long, tense beat.
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.
