Grand Game 305: Draven’s Reach (Patreon)

Transfer through portal commencing…

Leaving sector 18,240. Entering the Endless Dungeon.

…

…

Journeying through a portal was instantaneous.

You stepped into a shimmering gateway’s depths in one sector, raced through the ley line connection, and emerged in another sector barely a split second later. The passage was seamless and without interruption—always.

Or almost always.

Only once before had my transition through a portal been interrupted. That had been when I’d attempted to return to the guardian tower from sector 18,240 with a stygian creature on my heels. But even then, despite my pursuer trying to break through the gateway, my passage had resumed of its own accord.

That did not happen this time.

…

Transfer halted!

Dungeon sector 73,102 is corrupted. The area around the exit of the one-way portal may be unstable or occupied.

Assessing dungeon viability…

I stared at the Game message in shock. A corrupted dungeon? What the hell was that? I’d never heard of such before. But just as concerning was the description of the portal as one-way.

Given the stygian horde at my back, I’d known that leaving Draven’s reach the same way I entered would be difficult, if not impossible. But having the option to retreat would’ve been nice.

Now, I didn’t even have that.

And why do I have the time to ponder all this? Portal travel was instantaneous. Why was I stuck in a ley line and left at loose ends?

A moment—at least I thought it was one—ticked by. I was disconnected from my senses and could neither see, feel, nor hear—only think. An eternity could have passed for all I knew. What now? I wondered, dearly hoping the portal was not broken.

Right on cue, a Game message unfurled in my mind.

Assessment completed. Analysis inconclusive.

The corruption in sector 73,102 is too severe to evaluate the dungeon’s parameters accurately. The sector’s overall threat level and creature population cannot be guaranteed.

Do you still wish to enter Draven’s Reach?

The question was superfluous. Of course, I did.

Given what awaited me back in the nether-infested sector, I had no choice. But the Game seemed reluctant about sending me on my way. Why, I had no idea. Regardless, my decision was made.

Impatiently, I willed my desire to the Adjudicator, and after another long, indeterminate pause, more text scrolled through my mind.

Resuming transfer…

About bloody ti—

Before I could complete the thought, I was jettisoned through the ley line and out of the gateway into a lightless room.

Catching myself before I could fall, I swept my gaze across my surroundings. The room’s design was familiar to the other dungeons I’d visited. It was an entrance chamber. The walls were cold gray rock, and the floor was more of the same. None of that mattered, though, so much as the area appeared free of threat.

It’s safe.

The observation was the signal my exhausted body was waiting for, and before I consciously willed it, my sagging legs gave way under me, dropping me to my knees.

Another Game message flashed for attention.

You have entered sector 73,102 of the Endless Dungeon.

This sector is part of a closed region named Draven’s Reach. It consists of 1 unclaimable sector and 3 one-way portals: the primary entrance, the exit, and the secret entrance.

A maximum of 4 players may be in Draven’s reach at any one time. The dungeon is only repopulated once the sector boss has been killed.

Recommended player levels: 200 to 249.

Recommended party size: 4.

Players currently inside the dungeon: 0.

Sector bosses remaining: 1 of 1.

I barked in laughter, the sound bleak and absent of joy. A tier five dungeon. Really?

I’d barely reached tier four myself, and a dungeon of this caliber was a challenge I was most emphatically not equipped for. Great job, Michael, I groused. You couldn’t have chosen a worse escape route if you’d tried.

But further remonstrations would have to wait. A new—and not particularly pleasant—sensation was coursing through my body. Beginning in my stomach, it exploded outwards. There was a vileness in me, and I urgently wanted—no, needed—it out.

Slapping my palms to the ground, I hung my head and vomited, ejecting what seemed like a river of pale-yellow spittle and bile. Yuck, that’s horrible, I thought, crawling away from the mess.

My body was not done yet, though. My chest was also on fire. Rolling onto my side, I coughed, forcibly trying to oust the filth polluting my lungs.

“Prime, are you alright?”

Caught up in my own misery, I’d almost forgotten about Ghost. Craning my neck in the direction of the spirit wolf’s mindglow, I managed a vague half-nod, glad she had made it safely through the gateway too. But before I could inquire after her own experience, I coughed again—this time involuntarily—and ejected another stream of yellow gunk.

An entire chain of coughs followed, and for the next few seconds, I lost track of Ghost and my surroundings. Finally, my chest’s heaving subsided, and I rolled on my back. “Ah,” I murmured. “Much better.”

My body remained weak, and my chest and stomach felt delicate, but I no longer had an irresistible urge to cough or vomit. Hopefully, that meant I’d expelled the last dredges of the stygian overlord’s noxious fumes.

“Prime?” Ghost asked again, concern threading her voice.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I sat up shakily. “I’m alright. I just need a few minutes to recover.” I required a lot more time than that, but a few minutes were all I could spare right now.

“What happened?” she asked.

Raising my head—and glad for the distraction—I fixed my attention on where I knew the spirit wolf to be. “You don’t know?”

“I saw the overlord’s blob land and those ugly spikes drive into your boots. Did they do this to you?”

Dully, I stared down at my feet. A handful of ebony shards were still embedded in my wayfarer’s boots. How could I have forgotten them? They hurt horribly.

No wonder my legs gave way earlier.

Reaching forward, I yanked out the shards, wincing at the little shivers of agony that followed each extraction.

When I was done, I flopped back against the ground, exhaling noisily. “It was the nether that did this to me, Ghost. Not the spikes. The overlord’s spell created a concentrated cloud of blight.”

“Couldn’t you have run around it?”

“Of course not! A cloud that big, how would I have—”

I broke off, belatedly remembering Ghost couldn’t see free-floating nether. I exhaled and continued more calmly. “No, I couldn’t. The blob covered an area a few hundred yards in diameter.”

“Oh.”

My thoughts were still fuzzy, I realized, and I was missing things I shouldn’t. I couldn’t afford that—not in a tier five dungeon. I must heal. But before I turned my attention inwards, I had to ensure that a certain inquisitive companion of mine didn’t go exploring.

I turned back to Ghost. “Promise me you won’t wander off. I’m in no position to rescue you if you get in trouble.”

A riot of emotions, shame chief amongst them, wafted off the spirit wolf. “I won’t run off again,” Ghost said, her tone muted. “Promise.”

“Thank you,” I said, deciding not to belabor the point further. “This chamber should be secure but don’t leave it. I’m going to see to my wounds. If you spot any danger, rouse me. At once.”

Ghost perked up immediately, contriteness, shame, and guilt all vanishing beneath a new emotion—excitement. “Yes, Prime!” she replied, her mindvoice practically quivering with eagerness. “Nothing will get by me!”

I sighed. Ghost’s response was a little too enthusiastic for my liking, leaving me to wonder if I should’ve phrased my request differently, but I hadn’t been lying earlier. All my energy pools were swimming in the red and needed urgent attention.

Then, too, it was not a bad thing for the spirit wolf to learn more responsibility. If the two of us were going to get out of the dungeon alive, Ghost would also need to play her part.

And I would have to trust her to do it.

Leaving the spirit wolf to her ‘guard duty,’ I closed my eyes and called up my status.

You are no longer afflicted by noxious fumes. Your health, psi, stamina, and mana have stopped degenerating.

Current status

Health: 32%. Stamina: 7%. Psi: 13%. Mana: 0%.

Void armor: inoperative, damage reduction, and resistance buffs deactivated.

Stolen spells contained in your mana pool: 1. Necrotic spike (remaining duration: 4 hours).

Alright, I thought. Let’s get to it. Unwrapping a travel ration, I bit off a chunk and began to chew mechanically.

✵ ✵ ✵

You have replenished 30% of your stamina with 3 x field rations. Your stamina is at 37%.

You have healed yourself of all injuries. Your health is at 100%.

You have restored 100% of your psi.

You have replenished 100% of your mana. Void armor charges remaining: 100%.

A few minutes later, I was done. Opening my eyes, I surveyed myself. I was fighting fit once more.

Or as close to, I amended, eyeing my stamina.

Unfortunately, the field rations I had consumed had only restored about a third of my stamina, and from experience I knew, eating more would do no good. Without a stamina restoration skill—or potion—only sleep would see my stamina completely renewed.

Resting, though, would have to wait until after I’d scouted the area. Then, too, there was the necrotic spike spell I’d stolen. It was a tier six spell, and I couldn’t afford to waste it by sleeping away the next few hours.

I was a tier four player, alone, and equipped with only tier three spells in a tier five dungeon. If Ghost and I were to survive, we would need to utilize every advantage at our disposal.

Rising to my feet, I scanned my surroundings again. The second, longer study revealed that my initial impressions had been incorrect. The walls and floor, while smoothened, were formed from uncut stone. Moss and lichen grew in clumps in the corners, and water dripped down from the rocks above.

What I’d mistook for a chamber was more properly a cavern.

I frowned. Did that signify anything? Was the dungeon older than others I’d been to? Or just more primitive? I turned to Ghost. The spirit wolf had positioned herself next to the cavern’s only exit, and from the taste of her mindglow, all her senses were trained on the tunnel beyond. “Something out there?” I asked.

“The tunnel is empty,” she replied curtly. “No intrusions to report.”

My lips twitched upward at her response. Ghost had the makings of a warrior already. Perhaps, all she’d needed all along was to feel useful. “Well done,” I murmured and strode forward to join her at the cavern mouth. Peering out, I saw that just as Ghost had reported, the tunnel was empty.

Dropping into a crouch, I gestured to her to follow in my wake. “Come on, then. Let’s find out what this dungeon is about. The sooner we get through, the sooner we can rejoin the pack.”

And perhaps, along the way, we’d discover just why the Game labeled the place ‘corrupted.’