Grand Game 328: The Wandering Explorer (Patreon)

It took Ghost and I just under an hour to reach the gorge’s edge.

Two things became immediately apparent. One, the walled city at its center was huge, nearly the size of the plague quarter in Nexus.

And two: it was under siege.

The gorge nestled right up against the dungeon’s protective dome and marked its northwestern corner. The city commanding the valley’s center was replete with towers, ramparts, and ringed by walls so formidable that I doubted even the dungeon’s elites would attempt storming them.

Not so, the surrounding farmlands.

The entire length and breadth of the gorge outside the city had been transformed into farms and it was not hard to see why. The city undoubtedly housed thousands, and that many mouths had to be a challenge to feed.

All the fields to the south, though, lay fallow and barren—courtesy of the two fog banks planted outside the city walls. And having learned what I had recently of the void I was sure  the nether clouds’ placement was not happenstance.

The void appeared intent on capturing the city.

I crouched down on the plateau’s lip. The drop to the bottom of the gorge was sheer, and the rockface beneath looked like it had been deliberately smoothened. Gazing left and right, I saw that held true for all the encircling cliffs. There was no obvious entry into the gorge either, not that I could see anyway.

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. Whoever controlled the gorge was both patient and meticulous, not to mention paranoid. Their precautions hadn’t stopped the nether from invading, though.

My gaze drifted to the fog banks. Both nether clouds were about a few dozen yards across—no larger than the others of their kind I’d run across in the dungeon already—and by my reckoning, were just outside the range of the catapults and ballista on the city walls.

I pointed out the nether to Ghost. “What do you see?”

Narrowing her gaze, the spirit wolf scrutinized the first spot in question. “Stygians,” she growled. “Lots of them.”

I nodded unsurprised.

Ghost’s head turned further right. “Look there.”

Following her gaze, I saw a pack of stygians boil out of the second fog bank. They did not charge the walls as I half expected, but instead headed further east, angling around the city walls. A moment later, I realized what they were about. The nether creatures were making for the still-farmed fields on the northern side of the city.

It's a raid, I thought.

Before the stygians could reach the crops though, a horn trumpeted. Its cry rang across the gorge, and in response, the heavy metal gate along the city’s eastern wall opened.

Horses thundered out, at least three full companies of them.

Each carried a heavily armored warrior covered from head to toe in plate armor. The knights had their helms closed, so I could make nothing of the features. The stygians saw the approaching warriors but did not break off from their own advance, and in short order, both forces collided.

The resulting battle was short and brutal.

Miles distant and too far to affect the outcome, I watched impassively, taking in as many details as I could. The knights were disciplined and well organized. The stygians less so. Surprisingly, the contest between the two forces was purely physical. There was no magic in evidence, meaning the knights had to be using stygian weapons. I saw no sign of anything else that resembled player abilities either.

When it was over, all of the stygians lay dead, but so, too, did a few knights. Picking up their dead and injured, the calvary returned to the city.

Squinting to focus over the distance, I reached out and analyzed the soldiers at random.

The target is Tonka, a level 121 human.

The target is Wildbow, a level 126 dark elf.

The target is Hanya, a level 124 half-orc.

The target is Greenside, a level 118 dwarf.

“Huh.” As expected, none of the knights were players. What I found baffling, though, was how ordinary they were.

All the soldiers belonged to species found in the aboveground world. In my mind, I had imagined the city owners as belonging to an exotic race, one adapted to life in a dungeon—not that they would be orcs, dwarves, humans and elves, ordinary everyday citizens of the Kingdom. I was unsure what to make of it.

Or what to do next.

Given the city’s size and the apparent presence of humans, there was a good chance I’d been able to pass unnoticed amongst its inhabitants—just one more face amongst many. It gave me the option of trying to sneak over the walls and blending in. And while the vigilance of the soldiers made this a somewhat risky proposition, I foresaw no difficulty penetrating the city’s defenses.

But once inside… what then?

It could take days to scout the city and learn anything of importance, days in which a hundred and one different things could expose me as a stranger.

And why even bother with any of that?

It was clear the void imperiled the city. I hadn’t missed the fact that the knights had not attempted to enter the fog bank. It suggested they had no protection against the nether’s touch. In which case, the city had every reason to welcome a player—someone who could not only penetrate the mist, but also destroy the seed inside.

I nodded thoughtfully. It made sense to approach the city walls openly and hail the defenders. A modicum of care was still required, though, and I would keep my disguise and false identity in place.

Decision made, I climbed down into the gorge.

✵ ✵ ✵

I crept through the southern farmlands wrapped in shadows. I had no intention of rousing the stygians en-route to the city and made sure to give both fog banks a wide berth.

“Are you sure this is wise?” Ghost asked. She disagreed with my plan, thinking it better for us to avoid the city altogether.

I shrugged. “Wise? No. But necessary? I think so. I told you it could take weeks if we have to search for the exit portal ourselves.”

There was nothing linear about the design of Draven’s Reach, and I’d seen enough of the dungeon in the past few days to realize, finding the exit was going to be no small feat. If I didn’t want to be stuck here for months, we needed help.

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

I drew to a halt. I was almost within bowshot off the city’s walls and directly in front of its south-facing gate. I glanced at Ghost.

Knowing the plan, the spirit wolf bobbed her head in acknowledgement of the silent order and retreated fifty yards. Once she was in position I stood and let the shadows about me dissipate.

You are no longer hidden.

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I called out. “Hello the city!”

For a drawn-out moment there was silence. Then the sounds of soft oaths and muttered curses carried to my ears. Smiling, I waited. More ordered chaos followed. Blades were unsheathed, weapons were taken in hand, and bows were drawn.

And in an impressively short time, a head popped over the parapets.

It was a soldier—an officer I guessed—garbed in a similar manner to the knights I spied earlier. The helmed figure studied me intently, and I him. A second later, twelve more soldiers joined him, each staring down at me from the end of a shaft. Ignoring the drawn bows pointed at my heart I analyzed the first figure.

The target is Algar, a level 120 human.

“Who are you?” he barked.

“My name is Taim,” I replied easily.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to pierce your disguise.

Your deception has increased to level 112.

“I don’t recognize you,” Algar replied. “What are you doing outside the gate after curfew?”

I opened my mouth to reply but before I could, a second figure joined the first. He was tall, dark skinned, and unarmored, yet walked with the quiet confidence of a warrior. A chain of office adorned his neck, and a plain but serviceable longsword was belted at his hip. Fine scars covered his hands, while an uglier larger one ran up his cheek to disappear beneath the hairline. A veteran fighter.

“Who’s this?” The newcomer peered down, his steel gray eyes passing quickly over me, yet leaving me with the feeling he’d picked over every detail. “That’s no farmer, Captain,” the fighter whispered, lips barely moving.

“I agree, sir,” Algar replied just as softly. “Do I order the archers to fire?”

Before that precipitous decision could be made, I faced the newcomer and said loudly, “As I told your companion, my name is Taim. I’m a visitor to your city.”

The newcomer—a senior officer by the sounds of it—folded his arms across his chest. “A visitor? From where?”

“From beyond the dungeon, of course.”

My answer was met with palpable silence, and I saw the fingers of more than one archer twitch. I did not fear their arrows, though. I held psi in my mind and was ready to flee at the least sign of aggression. While I waited for the officers’ response, I took the opportunity to inspect Algar’s companion.

The target is Elron, a level 151 dark elf.

I betrayed no reaction at the Game’s feedback, yet I was startled. The dark elf was incredibly high leveled for a non-player. He has to be some fighter.

“You’re a player?” Although the dark elf phrased the question neutrally, I could tell from his expression he did not believe this to be the case.

I nodded. “I am, Elron.”

Algar’s eyes widened and his gaze darted sideways to his commander, but the dark elf’s reaction was more controlled. “That’s Marshal Elron to you,” he replied placidly.

I inclined my head. “I meant no disrespect.” I had proved my point and there was no reason to be impolite, especially since I wanted something from these people.

Elron glanced from me to the farmlands beyond, eyes narrowing a touch at their emptiness. “Where is the rest of your party?”

I’d anticipated the question. “I’m alone.” Before they could scoff at this, I added, “I’m an explorer, here to map the dungeon for my faction.” Dungeon surveying was common practice in the Game and there was no reason my claim should be challenged.

Elron’s face, though, stayed impassive. Did he not believe me?

“Assuming all you say is true,” the marshal said, “why have you come to New Haven?”

I stared at him blankly.

“Our city,” he amended.

“For information.” I glanced pointedly in the direction of the two nether clouds. “And to find out what they are doing here. I’ve never seen their kind in a dungeon before.” Which was true enough.

“And what do you offer in return?”

“Well, I could always try helping you with your stygian problem,” I said lightly. “Who knows? Maybe I can even destroy the fog banks.”

“You know how to do that?” Elron asked, his face not even twitching in response to my remarkable proposal.

I nodded. “There is a seed at the fog’s center. It must be destroyed.”

Elron stared at me for another drawn-out moment. Then, he swung around to face Algar.

“Open the gates,” he ordered.