Dragon Mage 026 - Claiming the Lair (Patreon)

390 days until the Arkon Shield falls

I got my wish, but not in the way I had hoped.

Ten minutes after leaving the nursery, the five of us were stretched out flat on a ledge and staring down on what was without a doubt our last obstacle to claiming the warren.

The central tunnel had continued its arrowlike path for another hundred yards before abruptly ending onto a ledge overlooking an enormous cavern. Its gaping emptiness of space dwarfed the other stone chambers we had traversed. Flat on our stomachs, it had taken us a few minutes to carefully work our way to the ledge’s edge.

Our abundance of caution was not unwarranted.

There was a single occupant in the cavern. A creature from our worst nightmares—a mammoth spider.

I cast analyse on the monster again, in the futile hope of somehow having misinterpreted its information the first time.

The target is a level 50 brown spider queen. It has meagre Magic, mediocre Resilience, exceptional Might, and low Craft.

The queen appeared asleep and seemed unaware of us looking down on her from above. She was as large as a house—if not bigger. Each of her hairy brown limbs was twice as large as me, and her flat torso would have made a good-sized chamber, one that all five of us could have occupied comfortably.

She looked impossible to defeat.

We must find a way. Somehow. The warren couldn’t be secured without the queen’s death and it was crucial we claimed it—for more than just the Outpost’s sake.

Everything I had told Tara earlier was true: if the warren was left unclaimed it would get stronger, and the number of brown spiders in the region would multiply.

Yet that hadn’t been the whole truth.

Claiming the lair, I was sure would also yield other benefits. A lair was not a dungeon, but I was betting—or hoping—that the Trials would reward us with Traits for being the first to clear the warren.

I couldn’t walk away, no matter how difficult the task appeared. This is what you wanted, I told myself. This is what you need to get stronger. I had to take the risk. We had to face the queen in battle. But how do we kill her?

No matter how desperately I wished to slay the creature, it would do me no good if I could not come up with a viable plan. My thoughts raced.

Tara tapped me on the shoulder. Silently, she motioned me and the others back.

I grimaced, not wanting to go, but we couldn’t talk here, and an idea had already started to take shape in my mind. It was a madcap plan to be sure, yet with the others’ help, I was certain it could be made workable.

Tara led us back up the main tunnel, all the way to the nursery before stopping. “Alright, people, what the hell was that?”

Although she addressed the question to the party at large, it was to me she looked. “That,” I said slowly, “was the lair boss.”

Her forehead furrowed. “Boss?”

“The last obstacle to us claiming the warren,” I said, trying to explain the queen’s nature in the best possible light. I paused, then added reluctantly, “The queen is also likely to be more difficult to overcome than the rest of the lair put together.”

Tara snorted. “As if I couldn’t tell that already,” she said. She shook her head. “Alright, pack it in, people. It’s time to get moving. We’ve come as far as we can.” She began walking up the tunnel. “Let’s go report what we’ve found to the old lady.”

The others followed on her heels. I didn’t move. “Tara, wait,” I called.

She turned around and seemed to read my intentions from my expression. “I don’t care what you say,” she said, her lips thinning. “There is no way we are fighting that thing.”

I was silent for a long moment. “I think there’s a way to kill her.”

Laura laughed, assuming I was joking. But her amusement faded when no one else joined in. “He is kidding, isn’t he?” she asked Michael in a low voice.

Michael chuckled. “Somehow, I don’t think so. He is batshit crazy, that one.” I winced at the spearman’s description of me, but didn’t take my eyes off Tara.

The green-eyed captain likewise ignored the two. “No,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

“Hear me out first,” I pleaded.

“Did you not see it has magic?”

“I did. But I’m sure we can handle it.”

Her foot began tapping. “Whatever hairbrained scheme you have up your sleeve, Jamie, I don’t want to hear it. I will not let whatever madness drives you endanger all our lives. We—”

“I don’t need help,” I said abruptly, cutting off her tirade.

Tara’s mouth closed with a snap.

“I will tackle the queen on my own.” It would make things more difficult—nearly impossible, if I was being honest with myself—but Tara appeared adamant in her refusal and I would not walk away.

John chuckled. “And how are you going to do that, lad? That beastie there will swallow you in three bites or less.”

I turned to face the lieutenant. “You’re forgetting how I held back the murluks the first day, John. Thirty seconds,” I said, glancing at Tara. “For thirty seconds, I can ignore everything the queen will throw at me. That is time enough to kill her.”

A hush fell over my companions, and when it was broken, it was by John, not Tara. “You seriously think you can do this?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, letting no hint of doubt colour my voice. “I’m not suicidal,” I added a moment later.

John guffawed. “Oh, but you are, my lad, you are. No man in his right mind will attempt what you are contemplating. But,” he said, shaking his head, “if you really want to do this, alright.”

Tara switched her glare from me to John. The big man folded his arms and did not back down.

“The boy has proven himself thrice over, Tara,” he said quietly. “If he thinks he can do this, I believe him.”

Tara’s mouth worked without saying anything, and she looked like she wanted to dispute the lieutenant’s words but remarkably, she gave way before his stead gaze. “Alright,” she said, swinging round on me again, “but I want to hear your plan before we begin.”

✽✽✽

I spent the next two hours recovering and eating. Even though my mana pool had been about half-full, I didn’t fancy taking any unnecessary chances.

“I am not suicidal,” I muttered. Despite the seeming impossibility of the task, I truly did believe the spider queen could be slain. Yet… I worried about her magic. Not that I could tell Tara that.

The only other magic user I had seen in action was the orc shaman back on Earth, and if the queen’s magic was anything like his, then I was surely doomed.

No, don’t think like that, I admonished myself. I couldn’t afford to let pessimism affect my thinking. If the battle looked unwinnable, I would retreat. Large as she was, there was no way the queen could pursue us once we escaped her cavern.

As long as I make the decision to retreat early enough, I will be fine, I assured myself. Gazing inwards, I checked my reserves of energy. My stamina was fully restored and my mana about three-quarters full. Right, time to do this. I stood up.

“I’m ready,” I said.

The others looked up from where they waited. Walking over, they clasped my hand in encouragement. “Good luck, fish,” Michael said as he handed over his spear.

I nodded my thanks to the spearman, then turned to Tara who looked like she had something to say.

“Are you sure about this, Jamie?” the green-eyed captain asked, her face solemn.

“I have to do this,” I said. “For the Outpost.” And Mum.

She weighed my words. Then seemingly satisfied, swung around without a word and led the others a few paces off.

I watched Tara for a moment before turning around to face the ledge. This was it. Stretching out flat on the tunnel floor, and with the spear in my right hand, I crawled the last few yards to the ledge.

The plan called for the others to hang back for a minute before following. They had strict orders not to interfere until then. I could only hope they’d listen.

As a I reached the ledge’s edge, a Trials message floated into view.

Your skill in sneaking has advanced to: level 1.

How nice, another Discipline, I thought, smiling wryly. Moving with deliberate care, I peered down into the cavern. The queen remained in the same position we had last seen her.

I exhaled in relief. Good. There was no need to change the plan. Rising silently to my feet, I took a few controlled breaths to clear my mind. I was ready. I hefted the long spear and held it over my head in a two-handed grip.

Then I leapt.

I plummeted straight down. Widening my eyes to stop them closing shut from the air rushing by, I kept my eyes fixed on my target.

Mid-fall, I activated invincible.

Near instantly, weaves erupted outwards and a second skin of spirit shrouded my body. I waited a heartbeat longer. Then, almost at the end of my ten-foot-long plunge, I drove the spear downwards.

As planned, its point made contact first.

Given impetus by both gravity and my strength, the long spear plunged deep into the spider queen’s thorax. With an audible crack, the spear tip broke through the monster’s protective exoskeleton and kept going—until more than half its length was lodged in the gargantuan creature.

A second later, I landed.

Crashing into the spider queen’s ridged exoskeleton, I bounced off, and if not for my white-knuckled grip on the spear’s shaft I would have been flung off altogether. But I had been prepared for the violence of the impact and hung on. Barely.

An angry scream tore through the chamber.

Wincing—invincible did nothing to stop the sound from penetrating—I fought the impulse to slap my hands to my ears.

The wisdom of that decision showed itself a moment later as the behemoth under me erupted into life. Kicking her legs into motion, the spider queen spun about in a mad blur as she searched for her attacker.

My body was flung aloft.

Again, if not for the spear keeping me anchored, I would have been tossed aside by the agitated queen’s twirling. With grim determination, I tightened my grip and prepared to ride out the storm. But after a few seconds, when the monster did not stop her crazed motion, I began to worry.

“Goddamn,” I growled between gritted teeth, “when is she going to stop?”

With shocking abruptness, the spider queen stilled.

As soft as my voice had been, she had heard me. Realising I had only a short window to affect the next stage of my plan, I yanked out the long spear.

It came free easily—until the spearpoint caught on the broken edges of the queen’s exoskeleton. Growling in frustration, I tugged at the weapon again. Any moment now, I expected the queen to burst into motion.

The monster beneath me trembled.

She was about to spin into motion again. Pressing my body flat against the queen’s, I wrapped my left arm around one of the many deep ridges lining her thorax.

Then, holding my spreadeagled position, I cast flare.

Predictably, that set the queen off again. Her shriek shook the cavern. A moment later, the beast burst into motion. This time, she dashed headfirst into the nearest cavern wall.

She’s figured out where I am.

In a shower of loose rock and earth-shaking tremors, we impacted with the cavern wall. I winced as my left arm lost purchase and I was flung about. But my right hand stayed firmly in place and dragonfire continued to pour from it and into the queen.

Anxiously, I checked my health—and nearly crowed in exultation as I noticed it remained full.

I was right!

Invincible really did protect me from everything, including the health drain of my own flare. How, I wasn’t sure—after all, I myself was the source of the damage—but I had placed my trust in the Technique.

Still, it had been something of a gamble, and up until this point, I hadn’t been certain it would actually work as I hoped. I have a real chance of succeeding now, I thought.

The queen reoriented herself. Using the momentary respite, I refastened my left hand around her body. Then she set off again, charging towards the opposite wall.

She is trying to dislodge me.

Once more, we slammed with bone-crushing impact into hard rock. Again, I held on.

Despite the dizzying changes of direction and nausea-inducing deacceleration, I was pleased by the tactics the monster had chosen. The queen may not have realised it, but with her repeated attempts at bulldozing, she was harming only herself.

I was protected by invincible. She not. And ever so slowly—more through her own efforts than mine—the queen’s health drained away.

The behemoth spun about and charged once more. I braced myself for impact with the far wall again. But two steps into her headlong rush, the spider queen surprised me. She shot out threads from the spinnerets in her abdomen and anchored them to the cavern roof. Retracting the cord of glittering silk, she hoisted herself aloft.

On the way up, I caught a glimpse of the party staring up from the ledge, awe and fear on their faces. They shouldn’t be there, I thought. Not yet. Why aren’t they following the plan?

Further thoughts of the party fled as the queen began her mad dance once more. Running upside down along the roof’s surface, the spider spun about in a circle. Once. Twice. The queen’s attempts left me dizzy and shaken, but tenaciously I clung on.

She isn’t going to get rid of me like this.

Almost as if in response to my thought, the fine hairs coating the queen’s body retracted.

I frowned. What’s she up to now?

The spider queen stilled. Then dropped.

Clever, I thought, realising what she was attempting. It wouldn’t work of course. But then, the beast didn’t know that.

We plunged to the cavern floor and landed in another bone-jarring collision. Darkness followed as the queen’s body crashed down on me. If not for invincible, the impact surely would have been fatal.

Instead, I was alive and still pouring dragonfire into the crazed creature trying to kill me. I flicked my eyes inwards and queried my Trials core. I still had more than ten seconds left on invincible. And the spider queen had to be close to death by now.

This was a much easier fight than I expected. I smiled in satisfaction. Soon it will be over.

A moment went by, then another, and still the queen did not move.

Sickening dread coiled in the pit of my stomach as an unwelcome thought intruded. Is she trying to suffocate me? What happens if I am still stuck under her when invincible runs out?

The queen moved and relief gushed through me. The fall probably dazed her. Surging upwards, the behemoth regained her feet. In preparation of her next wild manoeuvre, no doubt.

I didn’t care though. Whatever the queen did now would not change the course of the battle. I had survived the worst the beast could throw at me. This fight is won, I thought.

A moment later, the monster proved how wrong I was.

The queen did not fly into motion as I’d expected. Instead, she remained locked in stillness while motes of dancing green rose from within her. Starting at her feet, they rippled upwards to suffuse her entire being.

I gulped. The queen had called upon her magic.

It did not take me long to figure out the intent of her spellcasting either. As I watched, the many cuts and abrasions covering the monster’s body began to close over.

Damn it, she is healing herself.

In my magesight, what had started as a slow dribble turned into a raging torrent as more emerald motes spun out of the beast and rushed to the source of her injuries. The queen’s spell had to be some sort of rapid regeneration. Would it heal her fully?

If it did, the battle was lost.

I queried my Trials core again. I had only a few seconds left on invincible. Was it time to cut my losses and flee? I glanced up. The ledge and safety were too far away. With my crippled foot slowing me down, I wouldn’t make it.

Alright, Jamie, you’re going to have to see this through.

The queen broke her stillness and moved again. To my immense relief, the motion also signalled the end of her spell, and the dancing motes vanished.

But instead of spinning into motion as I’d anticipated, the monster’s limbs began to tremble and heave, and large clods of dirt started to fly upwards. She was digging, I realised.

Why is she digging?

Stuck in the middle of the spider’s back, I was blind to her purpose, but I didn’t dare leave my position to check.

Whatever she is doing, I can’t let her finish.

My gaze darted to where my hands were fastened to her. Dragonfire continued to pour out unbated from both my palms.

The beast’s healing spell had not completely reversed all the damage I had inflicted, especially not where my flames burned the hottest. I could only imagine the damage my right hand—still plunged in the queen’s innards—was doing, but the damage from my left hand was clear to see.

Where it met the queen’s skin, the hardened carapace had become brittle and cracked from prolonged contact with dragonfire. It looks weak enough to smash through.

I didn’t hesitate. Closing my hand into a fist, I smashed down. More easily than I’d expected, my arm plunged through.

The queen shuddered. She had felt that. But she didn’t stop digging. With both my hands plunged into the queen, I hoped that flare would inflict even greater damage.

The beast couldn’t sustain much more of this. Surely, she couldn’t. But I failed to convince myself, and my niggling worry grew.

What is she doing?

The protective spirit shroud around me flickered and died as invincible expired. I had been expecting it, but still… the vulnerability of my position suddenly seemed more real.

My own health began to drain. It’s you or her now.

The moments ticked by, and the queen’s furious scramble at the dirt did not abate. More worryingly, the creature didn’t appear any closer to expiring.

Just how fast could the queen shovel dirt? And what was the meaning of all this digging? Was she trying to escape?

Dirt fell onto my head. I spat out the gritty grains of sand. The queen’s hole was deep enough now that much of the upturned soil fell back in. Ducking my head against the falling shower of brown, I kept pouring flames into her.

My brows furrowed. She is cocooning herself. Why, though?

A second later, the entire expanse of space above was covered by glistening silver cloth that sagged gently down from the edges. Then the queen began to pulse.

Now what?

Blue throbs of light emanated from her core and rippled out in a wave. What the—? The light reached the boundary of the creature’s skin and flowed along it. I glanced downwards as the blue glow passed under my body.

I recoiled in fear. Was this another attempt to get rid of me? But my panic abated just as quickly. In the wake of the spell, I was unaffected.

Yet the queen’s skin changed. Hardened.

Whatever spell the queen was using, it was transforming her. Before my eyes, dull brown carapace was turning into cold grey stone.

A stone that looked disturbingly impervious to fire.

I glanced down at my hands embedded in the queen. Were her insides turning to stone too? And would the spell make her immune to flare?

The urge to flee grew. The spider queen’s cunning was greater than I expected. I’ve lost, I realised. Maybe I can still escape.

But before I could withdraw my hands, the last thing I expected happened.

With a last, forlorn sigh, the queen’s body crumpled inwards. For a second, I could only stare uncomprehendingly.

She’s dead.

I couldn’t believe it. But that could be the only explanation. Whatever spell the queen had been attempting, she had begun its casting too late. On the brink of disaster, I had won.

Pulling out my hands from the corpse, I rose shakily to my feet. Beneath me, the behemoth’s lifeless form remained still and unmoving. It finally sank in.

I had done it. I had really done it. I had won.

I opened my mouth to roar out my triumph to the party, but staggered and nearly fell as an avalanche of Trials alerts crashed through my vision.

You have gained in experience and are now a: level 18 Trainee.

Your spellpower has increased to: level 8.

You are the first human player to have slain a creature champion on your own. Creature champions are monsters that have evolved to assume command of their brethren. For managing this task without the aid of your companions, you have earned the Feat: Lone Slayer, rank 1.

At rank 1, Lone Slayer provides you with the slayer’s boon, and tenacious Techniques.

Slayer’s boon: When fighting a creature champion on your own, you are blessed with an aura that increases your damage by: 2%.

Tenacious: When fighting a creature champion on your own, you are blessed with an aura that reduces the damage you take by: 2%.

Your party has vanquished the lair’s occupants. Find the lair core, and claim ownership of the warren. Your party is the first to have vanquished this lair. For this achievement, you have been awarded the Trait: Spider’s Blood.

Trait: Spider’s Blood. Rank: 1, common. This Trait increases your resistance to all toxins by: 10%.

Your party is only the seventh human party to clear a lair. This achievement has earned you the Feat: Lair Hunter, rank 1.

At rank 1, Lair Hunter provides you with the lair sense Technique. Lair sense: You become aware of any lair within 10 yards of your location.

Stupefied, I sat back down on the queen in shock. Well, you wanted rewards, Jamie. Now you have it.

“Three levels, two Feats and a Trait,” I murmured. It was much more than I’d expected, yet I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. I had not been given what I had hope for: a Trait that granted more Attributes.

You can always try finding another dungeon or lair.

I doubled over, overcome by mirth. Not even I was that crazy. My laughter faded as I gave the matter serious thought. Well… perhaps I am.

Lying backwards, I stared upwards while I considered the possibilities.

“Jamie! Jamie! Where are you?” shouted Tara.

“Down here with the queen,” I called.

Casting lay hands, I healed myself before wearily standing again. I couldn’t see the others. From the sounds of their voices I could tell they had climbed down the ledge and were in the cavern, but the sagging mass of silk overhead blocked my view. Tentatively, I poked at the cocoon, which at its lowest point hung less than a foot above my head.

“How do we get through this stuff, Jamie?” John shouted from the edge of the hole. “My spear can’t pierce it.”

“Give me a second,” I said. Stepping gingerly across the queen’s corpse, I made my way to the hole’s rim. “Stand back, I’m going to try burning my way through.”

Casting flare again, I set my hands to the silk. The coils of silver gave way immediately. Tara and John’s worried faces peered through the ragged hole I had created.

“You alright, Jamie?” Tara asked.

“I’ll live,” I said with a chuckle, grasping the arm John shoved at me. The big man pulled me out with little effort. “Thanks, John,” I said, dusting away clinging bits of web.

“I can’t believe you did it, you bugger,” he remarked.

I gave him a lopsided grin. “Me neither.”

Tara gazed down the hole again. “What was the queen doing, there at the end?” she asked. “We saw blue light streaming outwards.”

“I’m honestly not sure,” I replied. “It seemed as if she was trying to encase herself in some sort of protective shell.”

“Well it doesn’t matter now, whatever it was,” said John, clapping me on the shoulder. “The lair is ours!”

“Not yet,” I said, shaking my head. “We still have to find the lair core.”

“This must be it,” said Laura from behind.

I turned around to see the hunter and Michael walking up to join us. Laura was holding an egg-shaped object with a luminous blue sheen.

“The moment I touched it, I got a message from the Trials,” she said. “It asked if I wanted to claim the lair.” She smiled. “But it didn’t seem right for me to. That honour belongs to you.” She held out the lair core to me.

I glanced at John and Tara. “Go on, take it,” Tara said.

I nodded and took the glowing egg from Laura.

You have acquired: A Brown Spider Warren lair core. If unclaimed, the warren and core will be destroyed in: 1 hour. Do you wish to claim the lair and become its settlement liaison?

Warning: You are not a resident of any settlement. Lairs can only be owned by a settlement. To retain this lair after claiming it, you must become a settlement resident within: 4 days.

I studied the Trials’ message quizzically. “Did you receive the warning too?” I asked Laura.

She nodded.

I pursed my lips as I considered the implications. I hadn’t known it was necessary to be a resident of a settlement to claim a lair, but that only made the need to establish the Outpost more urgent. And then there was the part about being a ‘settlement liaison.’ I turned the core over in my hands, hesitating.

“What’s wrong?” asked Tara.

I shoved the core into her hands. “You do it.”

She looked at me blankly. “Why?”

I shook my head, not wanting to explain. What I didn’t say was that I hadn’t made up my mind about becoming a resident of the Outpost. I knew from the Infopedia that residency—like citizenship—was no simple matter.

Becoming a resident bound a player directly to a settlement and its leadership, and I didn’t know Jolin well enough to be comfortable placing myself under her thumb.

Breaking any binding or oath of service in the Trials always came at a cost. Joining and leaving settlements were not something one did arbitrarily. There were consequences.

What the exact consequences would be for the Outpost, I didn’t know. Each settlement was different. But it didn’t seem wise to take the risk just yet.

Better not to be bound in the first place…

As I continued to hold the core out insistently, Tara took it. “Alright,” she said. Closing her eyes, she interacted with the core.

I watched with keen interest. A few seconds later the core disappeared from Tara’s hands and she opened her eyes. “What happened?” I asked.

“It’s done,” Tara replied. “The core has returned to its place in the lair.” She looked at me. “And in four days, if we still haven’t formed the Outpost into a settlement, or if the core is found and claimed by another, we will lose ownership of the lair.”

John looked thoughtful. “The commander will have to post a guard here.”

I nodded, then glanced at Tara. She was still gazing inwards. “Something wrong, Tara?”

“I got a new Trait,” she said, surprise colouring her voice.

I bit back a spurt of envy. “Oh?” I asked.

“Spider Captain,” replied Tara, her eyes unseeing as she read the Trait description. “The Trait changes the attitude of all brown spiders towards me—whether of this lair or not—to neutral.”

“Wow,” said Michael. “That’s useful.”

I nodded. It certainly was. And Tara deserved it. I looked down on the queen’s corpse and the wealth of silk spun across the hole.

“Now,” I murmured, “how do we take all this back with us?”