Grand Game 201: Stalking Prey (Patreon)
Content
The Haunted Catacombs dungeon will respawn in 5 seconds. All keys, doors, and traps will be reset, and the dungeon’s denizens repopulated.
I opened my eyes at the Game message. I’d fallen into a light trance while I waited and hadn’t noticed the passage of time. Dropping down into a crouch, I gripped the hilts of my swords.
Four…
Three…
Two…
The dungeon reset has been completed.
A resounding boom echoed through the level.
It was the sound of dozens of doors slamming and traps resetting, I realized a moment later. The door of the chamber I was in banged shut too. I eyed it worriedly.
Was I locked in?
If so, it could ruin all my plans. But I had little time to dwell on the issue as a tear rent the air, and an emaciated figure with the unmistakable pallor of death stepped out. I held my breath for a moment, but no second figure followed, and I exhaled slowly.
It was exactly as I'd hoped.
I'd chosen my refuge based on the single corpse I'd found inside the chamber during my scouting. While that was no surety of the number of inhabitants after the dungeon reset, I'd been banking on the fact that I would be facing only a single occupant.
The undead shuffled in my direction.
I stiffened, but the creature’s eyes were wide and vacant. It hadn’t spotted me. The undead reached the wall I sheltered against but failed to see me hiding just a few feet away and swiveled about, dragging itself towards the chamber’s opposite end. Mindlessly pacing.
But not for long.
With bated breath, I watched as the undead’s steps carried it to the room’s center—and straight into the ambush, I’d prepared earlier.
A hostile entity has triggered a trap!
A hostile entity has triggered a trap!
A hostile entity has triggered a trap!
The three snares activated simultaneously, unleashing a torrent of damage on my hapless target.
A level 138 undead warlock has been backstabbed by a trap-dagger!
Your target has taken fire damage!
Your target has been hobbled for 10 seconds.
Somehow, the warlock survived the hurricane of damage. But I was not done yet. Casting shadow blink, I stepped through the aether and followed up with a second devastating volley.
You have cast whirlwind, piercing strike, and crippling blow.
You have backstabbed a warlock for 4x more damage!
You have critically injured your target.
You have critically injured your target.
You have killed an undead warlock!
It was enough.
Caught by surprise and unprepared, the undead succumbed without mustering a response of its own, and with a bitten-off shriek, it slumped to the ground.
Ignoring the corpse, I swung to face the still-closed door. My earlier foray through the dungeon had led me to believe that the corridors were patrolled.
But no noise penetrated from without. Nor did I sense any presence in the corridor beyond. I relaxed; the warlock’s scream had gone unnoticed.
The chamber I occupied was more remote than most, and that had served me well. Content that I was safe—at least temporarily—I turned my attention to the hunter eye.
The orb remained on station above the portal, and looking down through it, I saw the tail end of a column of players entering the dungeon. Toff’s team, I thought.
But they were not the only ones to enter the dungeon.
Materializing from somewhere unseen, a four-man party rushed towards the gate. They’d not been waiting in line, and the other players shouted abuse at them. Ignoring the crowd’s outraged screams, the small party dived into the dungeon.
But when their last man attempted to enter, the portal’s shimmering curtain hardened, and the player bounced off the suddenly opaque surface.
His expression a mask of anger, the player tried again. It was no use, though. I knew what had happened. The dungeon had reached its limit of twenty-four entrants—one of which was me. I’d stolen the unfortunate player’s place.
Oops.
I felt little sympathy for the player; he was probably up to no good. Like me. His fellows did not re-emerge from the dungeon and, stranded alone to face the crowd’s anger, the player turned and fled.
I kept watch for a while longer, but the mantises did not appear. Realizing I had a potentially long vigil ahead of me, I split my focus and saw to the waiting Game messages.
You have reached level 100!
Congratulations, Michael! You are now a tier 2 player. Your experience gains have decreased further. For achieving rank 10, you have been awarded 1 additional attribute point and 1 Class point.
The level-up notice was accompanied by a heap of skill gain messages, but I paid them little heed as I considered my new attribute points. Stealth would be my greatest asset in the coming battle with the mantises, and I wanted to increase its effectiveness. That made the choice of how to invest the points simple.
Your Dexterity has increased to rank 34 (+5 from items).
I searched the room next. No loot chest had appeared; given what I'd seen of the dungeon layout earlier, I hadn’t expected one, but that didn’t prevent me from being disappointed.
The undead warlock’s gear also proved lackluster. He carried only three items of value, all little use to me.
You have acquired 2 x minor mana potions.
You have acquired 1 x Death magic wand.
My looting done, I tiptoed to the door. As I feared, it seemed locked. But was it trapped too?
Equipping the spectacles of seeing, I inspected the door for magical wards. There were none. This time around, I was certain I could trust the spectacle’s findings. The dungeon was designed for tier two players and surely didn’t contain wards higher than tier four.
Which left only one other possibility.
Activating trap detect, I ran my hands lightly along the door’s wooden surface, searching for anomalies.
You have failed to spot any traps.
I took my time, double-checking and triple-checking the area before I was finally satisfied that there were no traps to find. Only then did I turn my attention to the lock itself.
Crouching down on my haunches, I set my head against the door and activated simple lockpick. With my hearing enhanced— to discern even the smallest of clicks—and the dexterity of my fingers increased— for finer control—I inserted a slim dagger into the lock and manipulated it carefully.
You have failed to pick a lock.
The lock’s mechanism defeated my efforts. Grimacing, I tried again.
You have failed to pick a lock.
The second failure no more daunted me than the first and staying hunched by the door, I kept trying. Until…
You have successfully picked a lock.
Your thieving has increased to level 50 and reached rank 5, allowing you to learn tier 2 abilities.
I grinned. Finally! Sitting back, I rolled my shoulders, easing the stiffness from my joints as I memorized the precise sequence of rotations and clicks required to unlock the door.
Then I locked it again.
I had no plans of exiting the room just yet. Until the mantises appeared—or the dungeoning players did—there was no reason for me to abandon my refuge. Returning to the corner, I closed my eyes and gave the hunter eye my full attention once more. The assassins had not yet made an appearance, but it was too early to know conclusively if they would or not.
And until such time, there was nothing to do but wait.
~~~
An hour later, I was still waiting.
My hunt was turning out to be less exciting than I’d expected, becoming more an excruciating exercise in patience than anything else. If this is how the mantises spend their days stalking their prey, I want none of it, I thought drily.
I didn’t even know if the assassins would show up. Perhaps, I am wrong about how they are tracking me, or maybe they will decide against entering the dungeon, or—
I broke off from my musings—they were not helping—and turned my thoughts to the dungeon party instead. Their progress was surprisingly slow. I had no means of tracking them, of course, but I received no notification of a sector boss dying and knew they still had to be on the first level. Their glacial pace didn’t concern me, though.
My plan catered for multiple contingencies, including if the dungeon party descended to my location before the mantises arrived or if they cleared the dungeon altogether before that happened. I was prepared to wait however long I had to—even through multiple dungeon resets if necessary.
Closing my eyes, I returned to my vigil.
Around noon, I was rewarded for my efforts as I spotted two shapes of bright-green entering the square.
The mantises had arrived.
Rousing myself to full alertness, I watched through narrowed eyes as the familiar figures of Wengulax and Gintalush cut through the crowd. No one got in their way, much less objected, as the assassins pushed their way to the front of the line and placed gloved hands onto the rim of the portal.
They didn't enter, though.
I assumed that was because the dungeon was still at maximum capacity. Remaining where I was, I continued to watch the assassins. Until the pair entered, there was nothing for me to do. Nevertheless, the mantises’ arrival heartened me; it meant that my preparations were not in vain.
Another hour went by. During that time, my observations went unnoticed. Neither assassin looked up, nor did any of the other players inform them of the hunter eye. Eventually, just as the enchantment on the little green orb began to run dry, another Game alert dropped into my mind.
The first sector boss has been slain! Sector bosses remaining: 2 of 3.
My eyebrows rose at the message. It had taken the ogre’s party nearly four hours to clear the first level. If they kept going at that rate, they wouldn’t finish the dungeon today. It looks like I might have to spend the night in the catacombs. I better start preparing for—
I broke off.
Wengulax and Gintalush had vanished.
They’ve entered the dungeon. I stilled and rose warily to my feet. At least two players must have died during the confrontation with the sector boss. That was the only explanation for the assassins’ sudden disappearance.
I took a deep breath. My hunters were in the dungeon, and Toff’s party would soon descend to the second floor.
The time to act had come.
~~~
Unlocking the door to my refuge, I slipped out into the corridor beyond. Pressing my back up against the wall, I scanned the passageway in both directions.
No one—neither undead nor player—was nearby.
I crept down the corridor, stealthily making my way to the portal at the start of the level. Reaching the first crossroads along my route, I paused as a wall of noise rolled over me.
Startled, I dropped into a crouch. What in hell is that? Through my palms, I could feel the very floor vibrating.
The noise reached a crescendo, then faded, its echoes reverberating through the corridors. Tilting my head to the side, I tried to identify the noise. It sounded like a roar, a clarion call full of bestial rage.
A shape flashed through my mindsight. It was a vampire, and it was charging down a side passage in the direction the sound had originated from, the direction in which I myself was heading—the sector’s entrance portal. It confirmed my suspicions.
The roar was a player’s taunt, one meant to simultaneously draw all the sector’s creature patrols to the waiting dungeoning party.
A bold strategy. Or a foolish one.
I chewed on my lip, pondering my next move. At this very second, Toff’s party was likely battling the level’s roving undead at the entrance portal, but where were the mantises?
I checked on the hunter eye. Less than five minutes remained on its enchantment. More than enough time for one last scouting mission, I thought.
Focusing on the green orb, I ordered it back towards the nether portal. There was a chance—possibly even a high one—that the assassins would spot the eye once it was in the dungeon, but that did not bother me. I wanted Wengulax and Gintalush alert and suspicious.
Ignoring the exclamations of the players outside the portal, I navigated the hunter eye into the dungeon. The orb descended into the first level, and I sent it on a direct course for the portal to the second level.
Halfway there, it found the mantises—or they found it.
A flash of green was the only warning I had before twin daggers hurtled into the orb.
A hunter eye has been destroyed.
My vision went blank, and my consciousness dropped back into my body. My lip curled upwards. Now Wengulax and Gintalush knew I was in the dungeon and aware of their presence just as they were of mine.
The game was on.