Grand Game 265: Wolves at Bay (Patreon)

The day was still young—barely noon—when Anriq and I exited the saltmarsh district.

It was also the busiest time of day in the plague quarter, and more than a few people were about. Still, I didn’t think that would be a problem.

Anriq and I were just two more players walking the streets, and so long as we didn’t draw any attention to ourselves, there was no reason the passersby should pay us any heed. Admittedly, Anriq in the hag mother’s robes and boots—he couldn’t use the boots’ enchantments but stood out less in them than he would’ve barefoot—cut a strange figure but no more than many other players.

At first, things went exactly as I expected, and no one cast us a second glance. We slipped northeast through the quarter, avoiding the more crowded streets around the public dungeons and cutting a wide arc around the knights’ citadel—we definitely didn’t want to go near there.

I planned to stash Anriq in one of the abandoned houses in the quarter, then visit Kesh and Cyren. Because of the shield generator around Nexus, I couldn’t simply buy a portal scroll and teleport Anriq out of the city. But if anyone knew how to sneak someone out of the sector, it would be Kesh or Cyren. They would tell me—for a price, of course.

Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out as I hoped.

Halfway through the quarter, Anriq gripped my arm. “What?” I whispered, turning towards him. The plan was for the werewolf to remain silent and follow my lead—which he was obviously not doing.

Anriq, though, was gazing fixedly down the street and did not notice my ire. “I’ve been spotted,” he hissed.

My head whipped around. Eight players were standing idle on a street corner about a hundred yards ahead. One of them was pointing in our direction—at Anriq, more precisely—and another was whispering excitedly to his companions while shooting us sidelong glances.

You have passed a mental resistance check! Multiple neutral entities have failed to analyze you.

The group was definitely onto us. “How in hells did they spot you?” I muttered.

“I was analyzed,” he replied.

“But why would they pick you to analyze in the first place?” I wondered. “There are lots of other players about.”

“One of them must be a spotter,” Anriq answered. Sweeping his gaze from left to right, he scanned the nearby streets. “Do we fight or flee?”

“What are spotters?” I asked slowly, ignoring his own question.

“Players carrying detection wards,” Anriq replied absently. “The wards alert the spotters when a criminal is close by. The knights use them all over the city.”

For a moment, I was struck speechless. “It would’ve been nice if you told me about them before we encountered one,” I managed eventually.

“I’m sorry, it slipped my mind,” Anriq said, ducking his head sheepishly. “I’ve been in the marsh too long.”

I opened my mouth, another retort ready, but a flash of movement on my left drew my attention. I glanced down the street. The group who’d spotted us was in motion, sprinting closer with weapons drawn.

“We’ll talk about this later,” I said. Yanking on Anriq’s arm, I pulled him down a side street. “For now, we flee.”

✵ ✵ ✵

Running flat out, Anriq and I fled east through the quarter. The werewolf had no stealth or deception skills, which left us only two options: fight or flight.

Fighting, I judged, was the worse choice. A pitched battle would only draw further attention, and once more players realized they had a criminal in their midst—one with a bounty on his head no less—a true hunt would begin.

Unfortunately, fleeing didn’t work either.

No sooner had we disappeared down the side street than a horn trilled out, playing a series of honks in a distinct, if peculiar, pattern.

“The alarm has been raised,” Anriq said before I could ask what it meant. “That sound will let everyone know that a criminal is on the loose in the quarter,” He looked at me bleakly. “It will bring the knights down upon us. And others looking to earn their favor as well.”

Sure enough, a group of players further down the street turned around at the horn’s call and, seeing us running, pointed our way.

This just keeps getting better, I thought sourly.

“There he is! That’s the criminal!”

“Get him!”

Cursing foully, I turned north.

Anriq pulled up next to me. “Shouldn’t we be heading south? Back to the saltmarsh?”

“No,” I said in a clipped tone. I had a second, closer destination in mind. Besides, returning to the saltmarsh meant abandoning the werewolf, and I wasn’t ready to do that yet.

“So, where are we going?” Anriq panted.

I was onto plan B. It was an escape option I’d been hoping not to exercise, but it didn’t look like there was much choice now. “The guardian tower,” I said.

Anriq wrinkled his nose. “What’s that?”

“A public dungeon where we can lose those on our tail,” I said. “Now save your breath and run!”

Swerving left down one street, I raced to its end, then turned right up the next, navigating by memory alone. We couldn’t be more than five minutes from the dungeon. We’ll make it, I thought grimly.

We didn’t.

More cries and shouts echoed in our wake, and the horn continued to warble, the sequence it played out growing more complex. I suspected it was communicating our location, but I could do little about that.

Turning down another street, I drew up short.

A dozen players were waiting. Holding their weapons at the ready, they blocked our way. “Charge!” the ogre at the fore roared.

“Back,” I yelled. Spinning on my heel, I dashed into the closest alley.

Anriq followed without question, and behind him, I heard the other players give chase. Reaching the end of the alley, I skidded to a halt.

“This is a dead end,” Anriq began worriedly. “How are—”

“Shh,” I ordered. Throwing back my head, I gauged the height of the adjacent buildings.

Damnation. They were all too tall to scale in the time we had left, even with windborne to aid us. Pulling out my last invisibility potion, I tossed it to Anriq. “Drink that.”

The werewolf glanced at the flask in his hands, and his eyes widened as he realized what it was. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Now down that quickly and hide.”

The werewolf did as I bade. “What if we’re found?” he asked as he faded from sight.

“Then we fight,” I whispered.

Pulling the shadows around me, I concealed myself too.

✵ ✵ ✵

A few seconds later, a handful of players dashed into the alley.

Five hostile entities have failed to detect you! You are hidden.

“They’re not here!” one shouted.

“They must be. I saw them come here myself,” a second replied.

Cloaked in darkness, and with my back braced against the alley wall, I focused on the second speaker. He was a dark elf and was examining the alley minutely—as if he could see more in the shadows than his fellows. If this comes to a fight, I thought, he will have to die first.

Realizing I needed to know what we were up against, I examined each member of the enemy party in turn.

The target is Augur, a level 141 wild druid and dark elf.

The target is Dreyn, a level 120 crusader and human.

The target is Taufil, a level 118 wizard and gnome.

The target is Usmatrik, a level 131 ranger and lizardman.

The target is Mesina, a level 150 summoner and human.

More bad luck, I groused. Each of the hostile players was of high enough rank to pose a credible threat, but I’d faced worse odds before, and this time I had help. I glanced at where I knew Anriq to be.

The werewolf, shining bright in my mindsight, sat still and unmoving. Even though he was of lower level than the hostile players—and without arms or armor—I knew from personal experience Anriq would be able to hold his own in a fight.

Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.

I wasn’t prepared to bank on luck, though. Keeping my movements slow and controlled, I equipped my cat claws and set to climbing.

Five hostile entities have failed to detect you! You are hidden.

Ten seconds later, the enemy party was still in the alley.

“You’re sure they’re here?” Dreyn asked.

“I am,” Augur replied.

“Because if you’re wrong,” Usmatrik began, “we’re going to lose out on a massive payday. The others won’t—”

“I’m not wrong,” Augur insisted. “Now quite yakking and spread out.”

Splayed against the wall, I sighed. The party wasn’t going anywhere. About forty seconds remained on Anriq’s invisibility, and when that time ran out, a fight was inevitable.

I have to be ready before then. Anchoring a clawed hand in another crack, I kept climbing.

✵ ✵ ✵

I reached the top of the building with ten seconds to spare. Along the way, I’d cast my buffs.

Your Dexterity has increased by +8 ranks for 20 minutes.

You have gained an encumbrance aura for 10 minutes.

You have trigger-cast quick mend.

Perched on the rooftop, I extracted my climbing rope and affixed it to a roof eave. Then I drew my blades and waited.

The five players had divided themselves and were searching the alley in pairs while one—Mesina and her pet wraith—kept watch at the alley mouth. Other players rushed by the entrance without stopping or were warned off by the summoner.

The party seemed intent on ensuring no one else could claim the criminal’s scalp.

Which suited me just fine.

Through mindsight, I saw Anriq unbend from the crouch he had fallen into earlier. He had to have realized the potion was about to wear off, too. I wished I had a means of coordinating my attack with the werewolf, but that was impossible, and I could only hope he didn’t do anything foolish.

Drawing in psi, I prepared a casting. A second later, Anriq blinked back into sight.

“There he is!” Taufil exclaimed. The wizard, wrapped in a magic shield, was pointing his staff in the rampager’s direction.

Anriq was already in motion. Surging forward, he leaped towards his closest foe—the crusader, Dreyn. Mid-air, the werewolf shifted, his robe and clothes falling away as he transformed from man to beast.

The wizard’s warning proved timely, though. Pivoting about calmly, the crusader raised his shield and set his stance. At the same time, the rest of the party readied their attacks.

It was the moment I’d been waiting for.

With the enemy focused on Anriq, my own assault would pass unnoticed until too late. Letting the rope uncoil to the alley floor—it was our escape route—I released the casting I’d held ready.

You have cast mass charm.

Mesina has failed a mental resistance check!

A level 150 wraith has failed a mental resistance check!

You have charmed 2 of 2 targets for 10 seconds.

My lips twitched upward. My charm spell had done better than I’d expected, and both the summoner and her pet fell under my control. “Attack!” I ordered, yanking on the leashes I’d wrapped around their minds.

Without hesitation, the ethereal wraith and human summoner rushed to the closest of their former comrades—Usmatrik.

The ranger, meanwhile, had just released the arrow he had knocked. It struck Anriq squarely as he crashed into the crusader but had no discernable impact. Ignoring the barbed shaft in his side, the werewolf battered at his target with tooth and claw.

But just as the ranger’s attack failed, so did Anriq’s.

The crusader employed his shield to push aside his foe’s slavering jaws while his inch-thick steel armor sufficed on its own to rebuff the werewolf’s claws.

The remaining two party members weren’t slow to act either. Lightning streaked across the alley and into Anriq’s rear. It slowed the werewolf’s assault a touch, but he kept attacking.

A second arrow whizzed through the air; this one was fired from the druid. It also struck its target, but instead of punching a new hole in Anriq’s side, the projectile unleashed a mass of thorny vines that wrapped themselves around the werewolf.

The time had come for me to act again.

Stepping through the aether, I emerged unnoticed behind the druid.

You have backstabbed Augur for 4x more damage!

You have killed your target with a fatal blow.

At a hiss of sound, I threw myself sideways.

You have evaded Usmatrik’s attack.

Rolling to my feet, I risked a glance over my shoulder. The ranger was raising his bow to fire at me again, but before he could release the projectile, the undead wraith was on him, wrapping oversized hands around the lizardman’s neck.

The startled ranger turned around—only to be struck by a flaming bolt launched by Mesina. Smiling grimly, I left Usmatrik to his fate and turned my attention to the wizard. He had not noticed the carnage behind him yet.

Drawing psi, I formed a slide of air between me and Taufil and dashed along it, blades raised. Catapulting off the end of the windslide, I leaped down on my unsuspecting target.

You have cast whirlwind and piercing strike.

You have backstabbed Taufil for 5x more damage!

Your target’s shield has blocked your attacks.

Ebonheart bounced off the wizard’s shield, but I’d only just begun my assault. Empowered by whirlwind, I launched a furious sequence of attacks.

Your target’s shield has blocked your attacks.

Your target’s shield has blocked your attacks.

…

Your target’s shield has been destroyed! You have killed Taufil with a fatal blow.

Slipping free my blades from the corpse, I glanced up to see Anriq wrench off the crusader’s head.

Anriq has killed Dreyn.

Where tooth and claw had failed, raw power had succeeded. Using his superior strength, the werewolf had literally torn apart his smaller foe.

Glancing up from the dismembered corpse, Anriq met my appraising gaze and cast me one of his own. I inclined my head in acknowledgment. My own kills had been only slightly less gruesome.

Your minions have killed Usmatrik.

At the message, I turned around in time to see the ranger’s burned and bloodied body hit the ground between the summoner and her pet. It couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds since the battle had begun, and already it was nearly done.

Only one more to deal with.

“Let’s end this,” I called to Anriq over my shoulder. Not waiting for his response, I dashed toward the summoner.

Halfway to my target, my charm spell fizzled out.

I didn’t let that daunt me, though. The party’s sole survivor—still dazed and reeling from the aftereffects of her bewitching—was easy prey. Ignoring the wraith that moved to intercept me, I blinked through the aether.

You have teleported into Mesina’s shadow.

You have killed your target with a fatal blow.

The wraith wailed and, a moment later, vanished unsummoned in the wake of its master’s death.

I glanced at Anriq again. “Good work there,” I said wearily. “Now, let's get—”

You have been struck by a tranquilizer dart.

You have failed a physical resistance check! Lethargy has begun spreading through your body. Time remaining until you are completely asleep: 3 seconds.

You have been struck by a poison arrow.

You have failed a physical resistance check! You have been poisoned with an unknown toxin. Your health is degenerating by 1% per minute.

I staggered forward, eyes widening. To my rear, new signatures blossomed in my mindsight. Another enemy party was entering the alley, I realized.

Hells, can’t we catch a break?

Across the alley, Anriq met my eyes.

“The rope!” I croaked, fighting back the spreading coils of sleep. “Get to the—”

But I got no further.

Finally overcome by the tranquilizer, I slipped into darkness.