Grand Game 112: Playing Dead (Patreon)

Day Four. Morning.

I headed back north, in the same direction from which I had just come. I still wasn’t certain how I would accomplish all that I needed to, but I knew already that I had to begin with the Red Rats.

Sturm’s information was the key.

If what he’d told me proved accurate, it would allow me to begin unlocking the puzzle that was this sector.

If my scheme was going to work, though, I couldn’t risk raising the Red Rats’ suspicions. It was why I hadn’t told Ultack and Cecilia about Sturm. I feared the knowledge that his son was a prisoner might spur Talon into attempting a rescue operation, thereby spelling disaster for my own plans.

It took me the better part of the day to complete the journey back to the goblin tribe, and by midafternoon, I reached the outskirts of the crater. Before entering the camp, I stopped to ready myself and learn the abilities the Tartans had purchased for me.

Finding a comfortable perch on a tree branch, I opened the first book, the one containing the knowledge of the lesser imitate spell, and began reading.

You have acquired the advanced ability: lesser imitate. This ability allows you to imitate another similar-sized entity, including their apparel, voice, and appearance. It creates a light and sound-based illusion that can be detected by a Perception check.

The illusion will remain in place for 1 hour or until dispelled. Warning: taking damage will cause the illusion to dissipate. This ability consumes stamina and can be upgraded. Its activation time is very slow.

Lesser imitate is an advanced ability and requires 5 Perception ability slots. You have 0 of 10 Perception ability slots remaining.

I blinked at the Game message in shock. The ability took five slots?

It was an unexpected and unwelcome surprise—not that knowledge of the new ability wasn’t worth it, but I hadn’t expected advanced abilities to require so many slots.

As a result, I didn’t have enough Perception slots to learn improved analyze, and I returned its tome to my backpack. Upgrading the ability would have to wait. I will have to reconsider how I invest my attribute points.

I wondered, too, how much tier three and higher abilities would cost. Too much, I thought. I sighed. It was another complication. But not one I can do anything about now. Opening the next ability tome, I began to read.

You have upgraded your backstab ability to: lesser backstab. This is a weapon-based ability that allows you to deal up to 100% more damage with a single blow. This ability can only be used when the target is unaware of your presence or is incapacitated.

The effects of this ability may be overcome by physical resistance. This ability consumes stamina and can be upgraded. Its activation time is near-instantaneous. Lesser backstab is an advanced ability and requires 4 more Dexterity slots than its basic variant. You have 12 of 20 Dexterity ability slots remaining.

I grunted in satisfaction as my backstab ability morphed into a more powerful variant. Without further ado, I opened the last book and absorbed its knowledge.

You have acquired the advanced ability: minor piercing strike. This is a weapon-based ability that doubles the force of a single strike, increasing your chance to penetrate your foe’s armor. This ability only works with piercing attacks from a bladed weapon.

This ability consumes stamina, and its activation time is near-instantaneous. Minor piercing strike is an advanced ability and requires 5 Dexterity ability slots. You have 7 of 20 Dexterity slots remaining.

I exhaled softly as knowledge of my new abilities settled into me. I was ready, or as ready as I could expect to be. Slipping off the tree branch, I dropped lightly to the ground.

Concealed by shadows, I crept to the edge of the tree line and peered into the crater. Little had changed since yesterday. Goblins still caroused and wandered freely, appearing no more alert today.

I couldn’t ask for more perfect conditions. Time to do this.

Closing my eyes, I called upon my newfound knowledge and cast lesser imitate. The ability was powerful but not without weaknesses. With it, I could look like whomever I wished, but my false visage would not stand up to close scrutiny. Most players would be able to easily penetrate it after prolonged contact.

But no players roamed the Red Rats’ camp.

Holding my target image in my mind, I spun an illusion about myself. The lines of my body, clothes, and face began to blur as they were overlayed by a casting of light. My vocal cords, too, I sensed, were altering.

Patiently, I waited for the illusion to settle into place. When it was done, I stared down at my hands. To my own eyes, they looked the same.

But to hostile eyes, I expected I would appear wholly different.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of cover and walked towards the crater. I was spotted quickly. Goblin soldiers turned my way, the cry of alarm on their lips stilling as they took in my appearance. Speaking to each other in hushed tones, they darted me fearful looks.

I grinned to myself. Looks like it’s working.

Reaching the crater’s edge, I folded my arms across my chest and waited.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to pierce your disguise. Your deception has increased to level 53.

It took the goblins a full five minutes to work up the courage to approach me. When they did, it was to shove a sergeant my way while the rest hung fearfully back.

“H-halt,” the sergeant stuttered, his fingers gripping his spear tightly.

The order was superfluous, of course. I was standing still already. But it would not do to let a mere goblin command me. That would not at all be in character for Erebus’ undead henchman.

“You dare order me about little goblin?” I hissed. To my own ears, my voice sounded normal, but I could only imagine how the goblins perceived it.

The sergeant shrunk back fearfully. “N-n-no, sir. Of course, not,” he said before faltering to a halt.

I guess that means I sound like Stayne, I thought dryly.

“Then let me through.” I strode forward boldly and straight towards the unfortunate goblin.

The sergeant did not move, made of sterner stuff than I’d expected. “I can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?” I demanded, coming to a halt less than a foot away from the hapless soldier.

“By your own orders, no one is allowed into the camp without the code, sir!”

“I see,” I said. So that is what they’re for. Displaying no hint of trepidation, I let my gaze rove menacingly over the watching goblins. “What day is it, sergeant?” I asked mildly.

“Sir?” the goblin squeaked.

“I can’t very well give you the code if I don’t know which day’s code you require, can I?” I snapped, hoping I’d not misinterpreted how the code sheet worked.

The sergeant’s face scrunched up in confusion. No doubt he was puzzled at my ignorance, but fear of the undead whose guise I’d stolen kept him from voicing his doubts. “It’s day seven, sir.”

I nodded curtly, then recited from memory, “Today’s code word is ‘deity.’” I puffed up my chest and let my lips curl up in amusement. “Appropriate, don’t you think?”

“Yessir,” the sergeant said meekly and stepped aside. “Go on ahead, and I’m sorry for delaying you.”

I passed beyond him, then paused and pointed to a goblin at random. “You there! Take me to your shaman.”

The unlucky soldier stared at me in shock, not moving.

“Now!” I barked.

The goblin scurried away, and I followed on his heels, hiding a grin. I could get used to this.

~~~

The soldier led me to the centermost of the red tents. “He is in there,” the goblin stuttered. Not waiting for my response, he fled.

My gaze flitted over the surroundings. A score or more goblins were looking on from nearby, but when my eyes—or rather Stayne’s pulsing red orbs—passed over them, they looked away. Satisfied that it was unlikely that any of the goblins would interfere, I ducked into the tent.

The interior was more opulently furnished than the apprentice’s I’d used yesterday. Thick fur rugs were spread across the floor, and trophies hung down from the roof. A gilded table sat in the tent’s center, along with a throne-like chair.

Sitting in it was the largest goblin I’d yet seen.

His head was bent, reading something on the table. At my entrance, he looked up, eyes widening in recognition. “Stayne,” he gasped. The shaman rose to his feet hastily. “What are you doing here, milord?”

I glared at him. “You expect me to answer to you for my movements?”

The goblin blanched. “No, of course not!” The shaman bowed deeply, hand over the hip. “Forgive me,” he said, not rising from his bow.

I didn’t say anything for a moment, using the opportunity to analyze the Red Rat leader.

The target is Klaxis, a level 71 goblin shaman.

Shamans, like witch doctors, are tribal leaders amongst goblinkin. They focus their energies almost purely on offensive magic and are particularly fond of fire-based spells.

Just as I feared, the shaman was a strong magic-user. If my ploy failed and we came to blows, I couldn’t afford to let the fight be drawn out. Casually, I strolled closer.

“Very well,” I said at last. “You are forgiven.” I paused. “This time. Now get up.”

Klaxis unbent and gasped as I walked around the table.

“What is it now?” I snapped waspishly.

“I’m sorry, milord, but have you grown... smaller?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty and something else—suspicion?— in his voice.

Oops.

Stayne, I recalled belatedly, was a foot and a half taller than I was, and lesser imitate had done nothing to change my body size. Perhaps I shouldn’t have approached so close. But it was too late to back away now.

I drew to a halt two steps from Klaxis—within easy striking distance.

“I have,” I said brusquely, showing no outward sign of fear of the goblin looming above me. Let him make of that what he will. “But that is no concern of yours either.”

“As you say,” Klaxis said, eyes narrowing slightly.

Damn it, I cursed. He is still suspicious. “Enough small talk. I’m here with orders.”

“Orders?” the Red Rat leader asked, his gaze drifting to the table.

I kept my own eyes fixed on the shaman, not letting myself be distracted. “Yes, orders. You and your people are to attack the Long Fangs. Immediately.”

“What? Why?” Klaxis asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “I thought the Master’s orders were to leave that miserable little tribe alone? What’s changed?”

I clenched my teeth in frustration. The shaman wasn’t buying what I was selling. This is about to go sideways, I thought.

Placing my hands on my hips—and closer to my concealed weapons incidentally—I took another step forward and snarled, “You question me again?”

The goblin stared at me impassively, and a moment later, I felt a tingle ripple over me, followed by the Game message I’d been dreading.

You have failed a perception resistance check! Klaxis has pierced your disguise.