That decision came swiftly as Varba shouted for mana, but by then there was no longer a decision to be made. I could only look at her in despair. Me’Almah was down seconds later, and Slynx fell close behind. Katz sprang into the melee, vaulting off Me’Almah’s still-falling body, and quickly acquired enough debuffs to take him beyond the limits of my mana pool. A sharp slap and a stab of pain on my shoulder added to my own stack of Mana Bleed, and I scrambled away from the table and into the room just inches ahead of the talons scoring the greyed wood. Varba and Mac were unsheathing their belt knives as I stumbled to them, but a caster without mana is like a dog toy: squishy and fun to chew on.
Were it a regular game my instinct would have been to just “wipe” and let the mobs tear us to bits as fast as possible so that we could get on with making our way through the dungeon. With a boatload of pain and other unpleasant sensations on the line though, the three of us fought like the cornered animals we were.
Having thrown herself headfirst into the fray, Mac was the first to go down. A kraken knocked her to the floor with a rake across the chest, and then buried its beak in her neck among a sea of writhing tentacles that cocooned her head and torso. Varba acted on the kraken’s preoccupation with Mac, gritting her mouthful of sharp teeth and burying her dagger in the knot of gristle behind the tentacles, again and again. The creature’s legs scrabbled against the stone floor, but the tentacles refused to lessen their grip.
The next kraken caught Varba with her arm still raised over her head, a fat tentacle wrapping around her wrist and pulling her close even as she struggled. The second tentacle caught her around the neck, and blood began to flow freely.
My own throat clenched at the sight, and the image of Mjorn standing over me filled my mind. No! I couldn’t!
I couldn’t.
Chapter 21
I woke to the sound of the others cursing, coughing, and retching, each according to the manner of their death. Me’Almah and Slynx had gone down mainly due to extremity wounds and blood loss, but Mac and Varba had suffered a much more visceral set of injuries. Katz and myself had escaped the horrifying experience of our own ends: he’d fainted from the Mana Bleed stacks, and I’d fainted purposefully out of cowardice. I turned my head from the others, unable to watch them undergo the misery I had avoided.
Huth'Ga eyed us appraisingly from a low wooden bench that was as gray as the stone benches arrayed behind it. The six of us lay in the colorless dust of a colorless amphitheater, surrounded once again by a ring of orc women with lowered spears. The Mayor’s Curse had been reactivated as well, shrinking our stat pools.
“We had hoped your gifts would allow you to penetrate the ruins, but in truth I did not expect you to last as long as you did," Huth'Ga voiced. “Still, the prophecies were true; you players cannot truly die, though it appears death leaves its mark just the same.” She ran her gaze over my incapacitated teammates. It seemed for a moment that her expression might contain some measure of pity, but by the time her gaze returned to me, the steel had come back into it. “What did you find?”
The story wasn’t long to tell, but I found that I didn’t want to be done telling it, since there was nothing in our future save another sortie into Marami’s End. The sounds of my party’s misery behind me and the prospect of what lay before us made me brave.
“Lady Huth'Ga,” I pled, ignoring her derision at the title. “As we’ve said, my friends and I are willing to help, but as we are now…” I took a deep breath. “At this rate we’ll pay for every inch of progress with blood, and your people will pay for it in time, eight hours at a go. We just aren’t strong enough! Please, for your sake and for ours,” I gestured behind me at my shaky team, “give us a few days to grow stronger!”
The orc furrowed her brow and glared, but I was convinced of the truth of my words. It really would be to her advantage. If she could just see! Well, if she could just trust! I willed her to do so, hoping my face conveyed both honesty and dependability. The others held their breath behind me. The stakes had never been so high. Not in a video game, at least.
“Until morning,” she finally growled, and deactivated The Mayor’s Curse. “Let us see what you can do with what’s left of the day!”
Katz gave a small cheer behind me, and I heard a deep sigh of relief from Me’Almah. “Thank you, Great Sister,” she rumbled, brushing greyed dust from greyed clothes as she stood and bowed. Varba went to Mac’s side and helped her to sit upright. She started to beat the dust from Mac’s clothes, but it was clear they both just needed the reassurance of a friend’s touch. With the prospect of having to reenter the ruins delayed, Mac recovered quickly and batted Varba’s hands away in mock exasperation. Her gaze flitted to each of us in turn, eyes a little frantic, but eager for the change of focus.
She ran through a quick mental checklist, ticking a few things off on her fingers.
Finally, she looked up. “Great Lady, could I ask one thing further?” Huth'Ga nodded for her to proceed, but raised a warning eyebrow. “You have many fine warriors here. Could you spare a few for us to spar with?”
Surprised, Huth'Ga barked a laugh. “I can do you one better, Little Elf. You will train with our war mother.” She grinned, purposefully baring a considerable number of teeth. “You will train with me!”
Huth'Ga, war mother of the Hearthstead orcs, was affronted by our shortage of Constitution and made rectifying its lack her priority. She immediately set us to doing a series of sprints, draining our stamina and then letting us rest to recover it. Huth'Ga only snorted when Varba snuck in a casting of Aura as we rested, but when I mentioned how useful Haste would be, she pulled me up short.
“You would waste your mana," she said. “The speed from Haste comes from the mana of the spell. If your body is not doing the work, it will not get stronger.”
“What of Weaken, then?” Slynx called. “Less Strength would make you work harder to do the same things, would it not?”
“You would not be able to push your muscles to their limits, and so they would not grow. If you wish to train harder, you could use the Earth spell Encumber. Or,” she walked to the side of the path and grabbed up a large rock, handing it to Slynx, “you may simply run carrying this.”
With a chagrined look, Slynx tentatively set the stone back beside the path, hesitant in case Huth'Ga was serious, and got back to the business of catching his breath.
It’s a very enlightening experience, running with a stamina bar. Being able to pinpoint exactly when you’re going to start breathing heavy, when you’re going to start panting, and when you’re going to straight-up fall over. It’s easier to pace yourself too. If your stamina is depleting, slow down. If your stamina is regenerating, speed up. Not that we ever had the chance during that first hour; Huth'Ga’s goal was to get us to “straight-up falling over” as fast as possible.
Any stat differences between the casters were swiftly evened out as our Constitution and Dexterity stats blew through the lower levels. Slynx and Me’Almah had put points into Constitution, so there was no catching them, really, and Katz had enough Dexterity that he easily outran the rest of us. That being the case, we were all surprised to see them all gain points as well. When asking Huth'Ga, she directed us to our UIs to more closely examine our attributes. The descriptions expanded in response to the attention.
Intellect: 31
became
Intellect: 31 = (10 Natural + 12 Attributed + 9 Equipped)
Huth'Ga explained that the “Natural” Attribute Points would continue to advance depending on our efforts, whereas the “Attributed” points would grow only by leveling. Collectively, we kicked ourselves. Postponing the assignment of Attribute Points was useless if the “Natural” ones still grew at the same rate!
By the time Varba called out to beg off the training, the entire team had raised their Constitution over 8, the time between gaining points allowing for longer and longer windows of synchronicity. Seeing the greedy look in more than one eye once she’d acqu
iesced to the healer, Huth'Ga barked at the rest of us to keep moving. “Far better to make certain she can keep the rest of you alive. After all, if she has to run you’d best not be!”
Varba bowed her head graciously, but her smile couldn’t help but look a little like a sneer on her goblin face—or could it? Regardless, she strutted back to the amphitheater to sit, and practiced her spells while the rest of us continued to sprint. It was only after the next point that Mac and I were allowed to join her, but that point was a long time coming.
With us pesky casters out of the way, Huth'Ga began to vary the routine, adding Strength training to the sprints. Apparently, being a caster came with a doctor’s note, and I for one was glad to be exempt.
Varba was focused on placing Slow Heals on everything that moved, hoping to gain her full-blown Heal spell. Mac started doing the same with Ignite, which would instantaneously light a target on fire and allow her other spells’ damage-over-time components to take full effect. Having Varba close helped with the self-inflicted burns when Playing with Fire triggered.
I sat nearby and supplied mana. Slow Heal was cheap at only 15 MP, so they came thick and fast. Once everyone in range had the buff on them, Varba began to double-stack it, though doing so extended the effect rather than increasing it.
Slow Heal (14 sec) — Varba
You will recover health at a rate of 1 Hit Point per 3 seconds.
became
Slow Heal (72 sec) — Varba
You will recover health at a rate of 1 Hit Point per 3 seconds.
On request, Varba allowed me access to her spell UI. Between topping her up on mana, I had a look over her spells. It was fascinating. Unlike Mac’s spells, many of Varba’s spells—which I learned were indeed Light spells—relied heavily on her Wisdom to modify their duration.
Poison I
Cost: 15 MP
Range: 15 meters
Cast Time: 2 seconds
Duration: Up to Wisdom seconds
Description: Alters the target’s body to cause lasting damage.
Effect: 1 Poison Damage per second
Requirements: Light II
This spell is learned.
It was then that I understood her frustration with Slow Heal. The strength of the spell increased with each rank, but only minimally. The true strength of the spell was that it lasted longer and longer the more Wisdom she accrued. At very high ranks she might be able to heal someone for minutes at a time. Still, that was little consolation when a battle was raging. I could see why she was desperate to learn Heal.
I took time to acquaint myself with each of her spells, starting from Light, which fed into Poison, Aura, Distant Light, and Far Sight. Aura branched off into Slow Heal and Close Wound, and Distant Light led to Blinding Flash. Seeing that learning Heal would require the fourth-rank Light spell, I asked Varba how she had reached the third rank.
“Hell if I know," she answered, irritated as much by her lack of knowledge as by my asking. “I haven’t cast it much since I learned Distant Light.” I resolved to ask Huth'Ga when I got the chance.
After all three of us had expended our MP, we reported back to Huth'Ga. Mac was determined to acquire some martial skills, and Varba and I grudgingly agreed it would be the smart thing to do. We’d each had a weapon skill after that last desperate struggle, but we all knew how that had gone. Huth'Ga advised Mac to try a staff instead, since it would be more effective defensively. She also supplied a bow, but Mac passed on that in favor of a trio of javelins. For Varba, Huth'Ga recommended a small shield to use off-hand with her wand. Varba would simply have to drop it for spells that required two hands, though Huth'Ga mentioned that shields built for casters existed. They were simply rare, since casters themselves were.
“You might have better luck with a battle wand," Huth'Ga mentioned, handing me the bow Mac had passed on. “But Hen’Darl’s is the only one in the village.” She handed me a staff as well, and I set about gaining Archery and Staffs skills as I tried them out.
Archery Novice — Level 1
Your skill with bows and crossbows.
Damage with bows is increased by 1% (+1% per level).
Range with bows is decreased by 49% (+1% per level).
Chance to hit with bows is increased by 2% (+2% per level).
Critical strike chance is increased by .5% (+.5% per level).
Staff Novice — Level 1
Your skill with staffs, batons, and spellstaffs.
Damage with staffs is increased by 1% (+1% per level).
Chance to block with staffs is increased by 1% (+1% per level).
Critical strike chance is increased by .25% (+.25% per level).
Spellstaffs. Now those sounded cool, though—once again—caster items were in short supply in Hearthstead.
Huth'Ga set Mac and I to a series of block and parry exercises using our staffs. Our Constitution wasn’t high enough to go for long, but the training would be worth it. Varba, for her part, was put to gathering smallish rocks, and a guard took the task of throwing them at her in pursuit of skill deflecting projectiles. I supplied mana while the goblin worked to heal bruises and simultaneously deflect projectiles, in what turned out to be a surprisingly useful exercise.
The melee moved to weapon drills soon after. Me’Almah continued with her mace training armed with a club, and Slynx had been given a much larger club of his own to wield, instead of a hand-axe. Katz struggled momentarily with a practice sword that was nearly as long as he was tall, before opting to continue with sparring daggers.
We continued that pattern, altering weapons practice with casting, throughout the afternoon. Varba very quickly reached the point at which Slow Heal I should have become Slow Heal II, but the listed requirements demanded Rank IV of her Light spell. While that lay beyond her grasp, so did Slow Heal II. In a display of growing trust, Huth'Ga actually called a warrior to fetch Hen’Darl when Varba asked her about it.
Hen’Darl chuckled at the goblin. “Oh no, Little Sister. You’ll never get anywhere like that. Seed spells indicate the level of unity you’ve achieved with the element. It will grow with the casting of spells, of course, but the number of spells required grows by an order of magnitude with each new rank! Here, sit, all of you.”
She gathered the melee players over and sat them all on the stone benches alongside us. “Now, close your eyes and focus on your seed spell. There will be a time, right before you begin the spell, at which you can feel it forming on your tongue—at which your hands will be itching to cast. Hover there, intent on the element. That is the first method. For the second, once your mana is gathered, cast your strongest spells with a singular focus, dwelling in that moment with your element. Dependent on the intensity of your focus, your affinity with your seed spell will increase, and its power will grow.
“Both practices will advance your skill; however, it is best to use them in tandem," she continued. ”I believe it is possible to gain true mastery with only the meditative technique, but if you take time to sleep, it is rumored to be a thirty-year endeavor.” She grinned as we collectively blanched. “As it stands, it should take a week of intensive focus for your healer to gain her Simple-ranked seed spell. Longer still, since that cannot be her sole aim.”
“What?!” Varba squawked—goblins are very good at squawking. “We don’t have a week! If we have to rely on Slow Heal Me’Almah will…” She broke off, eyes darting as she searched for a solution.
Hen’Darl smiled sadly. “Some things cannot be rushed, Little Sister, but your concern for your comrades speaks well of you. We must all make do with what we are given.”
Varba sighed and dropped her head for a moment to examine the ground. After several long seconds, her head snapped back up. “Alright,” she growled. “Casters with me. Melee, you’d better make sure you’re learning how to keep yourselves alive!”
She bowed deeply to Hen’Darl, voice softening. “Thank you, Great Sister. Your guidance has been invaluable.” Then she spun on her heel an
d marched for the most remote corner of the amphitheater. “NO interruptions!” she called back to the melee group.
Chapter 22
Varba worked us late into the night, barely allowing for a pause when Slynx brought us dinner. Mac had told the group about my Static Casting, and so Varba knew all about the limen, though they both required additional coaching and practice in order to maintain it for any amount of time. The fun part was that it was easy to tell whether they had accessed it, since reaching that state was the trigger for the elemental “special effects.” Mac’s eyelashes would turn to flickering flames, and flames would lick out around her lips and nostrils as she breathed. Varba would do the flashlight trick, which was decidedly creepy when she managed it with her eyes closed, since her eyelids would glow an evil, veiny red in the evening light.
As I’d had days more practice—and a high-level Concentration skill—I used the time to look over Mac’s spells and to calculate our progress toward Heal.
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