Grand Game 256: The Fallen District (Patreon)

I stopped when the street I was following south through the plague quarter came to an abrupt end. I’d reached the saltmarsh district.

Before me was the marsh itself, it stretched out as far as the eye could see, miles of brackish water filled to the bursting with bullrushes and other vegetation. What I had not expected, though, were the derelict buildings. There were entire blocks of them—dilapidated, abandoned, and sinking.

Some buildings were missing—no doubt already completely submerged—others looked like they were well on their way there. So, I mused, at some point, all this was part of the city proper.

What had happened? I wondered.

The sea had plainly rushed in to flood the district, but why had that been allowed? And why had the region not been reclaimed? The Powers could certainly have achieved either. Shaking my head at the mystery, I turned my attention to the marsh itself.

Here and there, ripples marred the otherwise still-surface of the water. Insects flitted about, but there were no birds. Nor players. In fact, it was eerily quiet.

I glanced behind me.

The plague quarter’s grim buildings stared back.

Reassured that I hadn’t somehow been mysteriously teleported elsewhere, I swung back to face the saltmarsh. The district’s borders were clearly delineated, the marsh having swallowed the roads leading into it to form a perfect rim.

I grimaced unhappily. The nearest building was too far away to flit over the marsh with windborne. If I were going to enter the district, I would have to wade through the water. It looked shallow enough, but who knew what manner of creatures and pestilence hid beneath the murky surface?

Dropping to my haunches, I inhaled deeply.

And immediately regretted it.

The marsh’s scents left much to be desired. Mixed in with the saltiness of the sea was the stench of decay and things best left unmentioned. I did not want to spend any longer in it than necessary. Rising to my feet, I unfurled my mindsight.

Every lifeform within twenty yards impinged on my awareness. Predictably, they were all innocuous enough—small fish and mud crawlers. No yellow-spotted frogs, though. I snorted. As if I would be that lucky.

Still, I had a plethora of targets to choose from. Fixing my awareness on the most distant lifeform I could see, I cast shadow blink.

You have failed to teleport behind a mud crab. This entity is too small to provide a stable exit point.

Urgh! That’s… dastardly.

I sighed. There was no getting around it. I would have to wade through the marsh. Reconciling myself to the idea, I bent my thoughts to my objectives.

So, how do I go about this?

I had three bounties to complete, and no further guidance other than my targets were somewhere in the saltmarsh. Originally, I thought that sufficient, but I’d not anticipated the marsh being this big. From the looks of it, I could spend days within its depths, and that was only considering what I could see.

Nothing for it but to begin.

Closing my eyes, I cast my buffs.

You have cast heightened reflexes, increasing your Dexterity by +8 ranks for 20 minutes.

You have cast load controller, granting you a 10-minute encumbrance aura that slows any armor-wearing foe within 2 yards by 20%.

You have trigger-cast quick mend. When your overall health falls below 30%, it will instantly heal you for 20%.

Ready to venture into the swamp, I took a step forward.

My foot plonked through the water with an audible splash and found solid—if muddy ground—beneath. I took another step to stand knee-deep in the water.

Brown sludge seeped into my leggings.

Urgh.

My mouth twisting distastefully, I kept going. The height of the water rose until I was submerged waist-deep in filth. Thankfully, though, it leveled off about ten yards in. I did not want to contemplate swimming in the marsh. Picking one of the derelict buildings, I waded towards it.

My target was a half-rotted timber structure that looked ready to tip over, but for all that, it was three stories tall and loomed over the nearby buildings. It would make for an excellent vantage point.

Something stung me.

Tier 5 disease resisted! You have failed to contract Typhili!

Drawing to a halt, I stared at the Game message. I’d been in the swamp for less than a minute, and already I’d been exposed to infection.

It’s a good thing I bought those protection crystals. My cure disease potions would hardly have sufficed. Now, let’s hope I don’t encounter anything worse.

Slapping a hand to my neck to kill the offending insect, I moved on. Ten yards from the wooden building, I stopped again. It was time to test-run one of my new abilities.

Reaching into my mind, I wove strands of psi into solid air. The weaves expanded into a slide that reached up to a second-story window, and with no little trepidation, I stepped onto it.

You have cast windborne.

Spell-manifested wind formed at my back, and in the next instant, I was gliding up a ramp of air—visible only to my eyes—at breathtaking speed.

“Wow,” I gasped, forgetting my distaste for the marsh as I was propelled off the windslide and onto the windowsill. Though the timbers were rotted, they bore my weight easily, and I clung to the outside of the window while I caught my breath and let the excess water and sludge drip free from my armor.

Windborne was… different.

Its speed buff was a huge bonus, as was the fact that I could create the windslide in any shape I desired. I grinned. I could quite literally run circles around my foes—and all through the cast of a single spell. Used correctly, the ability could be devastating in combat.

My excitement fading, I turned my attention back to the building and peered through the gaping hole that served as a window. The inside was nothing more than the shattered remnants of a room, one with holed-through floors, broken walls, and rotted furnishings.

But it looked safe enough.

Nevertheless, I inspected the chamber a second time over with mindsight. The ability confirmed what I saw. The building was empty. Well, empty, if you discounted the thousands of specks of mindglows that I knew to be insects.

Not delaying further, I slipped through the window and gingerly lowered myself onto a beam that seemed more solid than the rest. The log creaked but held.

To my right was a half-rotted staircase leading up to the top floor, and beneath it was a hive. Most of the mindglows in the building originated from there. Each tiny creature—no larger than my fingernail—was uniformly crimson. Their eyes and carapaces glinted in the shadowy darkness, giving them an ominous cast. Reaching out with my will, I analyzed one of the insects.

The target is a level 6 blood fly.

Blood flies are found all over the saltmarsh and carry all manner of diseases and infections. They derive their name both from their blood-red color and their uncanny ability to sense warm-blooded creatures.

There were thousands of flies nesting on the support beams beneath the staircase. I glanced up. Unfortunately, none of the holes in the floor above were big enough for me to fit through.

To reach the next floor, I would have to pass within a few feet of the tiny monstrosities. Humming quietly to themselves, they seemed dormant, though, and with my ward of disease protection, I didn’t think I had anything to fear from them.

Balancing my weight carefully, I tiptoed towards the stairs.

Multiple hostile entities have detected you! You are no longer hidden.

Hmm, that was quick. The noise emanating from the nest increased, and a few flies lifted off the beam to buzz angrily around me. Pausing, I eyed the tiny insects warily. One zipped through the air, straight for my face.

Making no move to stop it, I waited.

A level 5 blood fly has stung you! Tier 4 disease resisted. You have failed to contract Mong Fever!

Another dozen flies dived down in the wake of the first.

Twelve blood flies have stung you!

Tier 6 disease resisted…

Tier 5 disease resisted…

…

Your health has decreased to 99.999%.

“Ouch, that hurt,” I murmured, smirking at the flies that continued to flit impotently around me. Certain now that the insects were no threat, I continued onwards.

More flies lifted off their perches to whiz threateningly about me. I ignored them. The sooner I got up to the next floor, the sooner the insects would realize I was no danger—to them or their hive. Accompanied by a growing swarm of flies, I placed a foot on the first stair.

That proved a mistake.

The wood groaned loudly beneath me. It did not give way, though. Unfortunately, that was the least of my problems. Spurred on by the noise, the entire hive roused itself to deal with the threat—me.

A blood fly swarm has attacked you. Multiple diseases resisted. Your health has decreased to 99%.

“Damnation,” I growled, flapping feebly at the flies as I climbed the next step. The tiny buggers swarmed over me, crawling into my mouth, ears, and nostrils. A few even managed to penetrate my leather gear to buzz beneath. Revolted, I slapped uselessly at my armor.

A blood fly swarm has attacked you.

A blood fly swarm has attacked you.

Your health has decreased to 97%!

I’d underestimated the little blighters, I realized. Each fly’s attack was no more than a pinprick but, taken all together, their damage was not so negligible.

If this keeps up, I can be in real trouble.

There was no need to panic, though. All I needed to do was lose the swarm.

Dashing up the stairs, I set about doing that.