Grand Game 353: Force Multiplication (Patreon)

Day Twenty-Three in Draven’s Reach

You have killed 9 stygian spores.

Killing the remaining spores went smoothly.

Standing at the boundary of the safe zone with my energy reserves full and my bag packed, I was ready to leave—for good. There was just one last test to run. More anxious than I cared to admit, I drew on the nearby shadows and attempted to conceal myself.

You are hidden.

My breath escaped in an explosive rush. It had worked! I was halfway to escaping the harbinger’s trap and could almost taste freedom. Best of all, my jailor remained blissfully unaware.

Let’s keep it that way, I thought. That meant moving stealthily. Exiting the safe zone, I crept ‘east’ towards the indent in the cordon. The nether had grown strangely familiar and other than restricting my sight, inconvenienced me not at all.

Using the mindglows of the stygians as beacons, I snuck up on my targets. I reached the fifty-yard line and passed it without incident, keeping my eyes fixed on the terrain. Without my wayfarer boots, moving soundlessly was not effortless, and I had to constantly check my stride or adjust my footing.

I closed the distance to forty yards.

Thirty. Twenty. Ten.

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

Drawing psi into my mind, I slowed my pace further, then kept going. Nine yards. Seven. Five.

I stopped.

Through the thinning mists ahead, I spotted five hydras and three serpents. The eight creatures had their heads bowed. Sleeping perhaps, but certainly not alert. There were dozens more stygians to my left and right, all still concealed from sight by the fog.

It was the eight in front that held my interest, though.

Beyond them lay a cliff and the path to freedom, hopefully. I couldn’t see it, but that did not concern me just yet. Weaving the psi in my mind, I unleashed my will on the closest of the six.

You have cast slaysight.

You have induced 6 of 6 targets to sleep for 40 seconds.

The spell was likely overkill but the last thing I wanted was to slip up at this late stage. Neither of the two remaining stygians stirred. My casting had gone unnoticed. Drawing more psi, I shadow blinked.

You have teleported into a stygian hydra’s shadow.

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

I emerged from the aether, still and crouched. Shifting around carefully, I turned around to find myself staring at cold, gray rock.

Gotcha, I thought with a happy grin. Inching forward, I placed the palms of my hands flat on the cliff and studied the portion that was visible.

There were handholds aplenty.

There was no guarantee the cliff would be scalable along the full distance, but that was why I had brought along some makeshift climbing gear.

Reaching up with my right hand, I got started.

✵ ✵ ✵

Scaling the cliff was hard, and on two separate occasions I was forced to employ windborne. Nevertheless, I managed the ascent without incident, neither showering the stygians below with loose rocks or falling to my death.

Pulling myself onto the top of the plateau, I turned about in a slow circle. The mist was as opaque as ever, and I could see little further than a few yards. But I had expected that.

More importantly, there were no mindglows to my left, right or up ahead. Exhaling heavily, I marched forward. Now, came the only part of the plan I had no clear strategy for: finding my way out of the fog.

My bag was full of rope and stakes, but while those would help to an extent, there was no way I was going to map the entire plateau, not if I didn’t want to spend months roaming the fog bank.

My best bet was to find a chasm and to follow along. The cracks in the plateau ran deep and often meandered, but they generally did not turn full circle. If I followed a chasm, it would lead me out of the fog bank—eventually. But there was no getting around the fact that however long that took, would very much depend on luck.

Adjudicator, if you’re listening, I can use a decent handful of that about now.

✵ ✵ ✵

Either the Game heard or my luck was not as bad as I feared.

Before an hour passed, I located a chasm, and after following it for two more hours, I found myself standing on a stretch of open plateau that was blessedly free of nether.

Coming to a halt, I rocked back on my heels and squeezed my eyes shut. “Thank you,” I whispered, not sure—and not caring—who I addressed.

I was free. A whole ten days later than I wanted but there was no helping that. It was time to move forward again and find my companion. Running forward, I put some distance between me and the fog bank before pivoting in a circle to take my bearings.

It did not take me long to pick out a few unmissable landmarks. What I’d been thinking of as east while in the nether was actually north.

I had emerged somewhere along the central fog bank’s northeastern edge, and if I was judging my position correctly, I was less than a day from the canyon in which I had died.

No point in wasting more time.

Orientating myself in the direction I needed to go, I fell into a jog at a pace I could maintain for hours on end. “Almost there, Ghost.” I murmured. “I’m coming.”

Please be waiting.

✵ ✵ ✵

My passage across the plateau went by swiftly. As I ran, my mind churned with worry over my lost companion—in a seeming bid to make up for the many days of carefully suppressed fears.

I thought of Elron, too, and wondered if he had given up on me. The wolf packs and my other companions stranded on the tundra surely had. I couldn’t expect them to wait for me forever, and by now I feared many would have gone their own way.

Safyre will keep them together. I hoped that was true but couldn’t be certain.

Plagued by these worries and more, I ran. I was draining my stamina more quickly than was wise, but with the end of my unwanted side trip in sight, I couldn’t seem to care.

Eight hours later, I arrived at my destination.

My legs were straining, and my feet hurt—running in newbie shoes was definitely ill-advised. Dropping into a crouch and cloaking myself in shadow, I crept to the canyon’s edge and peered down.

The fog bank was gone. As were the stygians.

But the canyon was not empty.

Sitting in the exact center, almost directly over the spot where the destroyed seed had rested, was a strange blocked-shaped creature. My gaze passed over it, barely pausing as I searched for someone else entirely.

But the spirit wolf’s ethereal form was nowhere to be seen. “GHOST,” I shouted. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

The silence was resounding.

Disheartened but not giving up I called out again. No answer was forthcoming the second time round either. Or the third. My eyes drifted back to the canyon’s sole occupant. Did it know where the spirit wolf was? And what was it even? Drawing on my will, I analyzed the creature.

The target is a level 201 Force Multiplier.

I frowned. An elite? What was an elite doing here? Had it wandered in after the fog dissipated? But the creature was too big to have squeezed through the narrow chasm leading into this particular canyon.

Perhaps it’s a new spawn.

My frown deepened as I considered that. I’d not revisited any of the locations previously inhabited by the stygians. Did the dungeon attempt to reclaim the regions after a seed’s destruction? The presence of an elite here certainly suggested so.

What did that mean for Ghost, though?

Nothing.

Whatever the Force Multiplier was, it was unlikely to be able to perceive the spirit wolf, much less hurt her. Just as I’d feared, Ghost had left the canyon. The only other possibility did not bear considering. I had to search for her. There was no question of that. But where did I even begin? And how?

My gaze drifted back to the elite. Before I could launch any search, I needed to regain my stuff—which left me with a problem.

The Force Multiplier was nearly atop my corpse.

If I wanted my things, I would have to enter the canyon and quite possibly fight it. I couldn’t afford to delay too long either. I had less than an hour on the harbinger’s stolen spell. Not to mention, this was likely the first place the stygian Power would look once he realized I was missing.

It was now or never.

Grabbing a handful of fruit from my bag I chewed grimly. I would need my strength for the battle ahead.

✵ ✵ ✵

You have replenished 30% of your stamina eating an unknown fruit. Stamina remaining: 41%.

You have cast heightened reflexes, load controller, fade, and trigger-cast quick mend.

I dropped silently into the canyon; my gaze fixed on the weird looking elite ahead. I had no intention of fighting it, if possible, but given the creature’s proximity to my corpse, I suspected I would have no choice. With that in mind, I studied my foe intently.

The Multiplier resembled a tall monolithic structure, one with rectangular blocks attached at random points. The creature had no limbs to speak of or anything resembling facial features. In fact, I was doubtful it could even be described as living.

The elite lacked a mind, or its mind was so well shielded I couldn’t tell the difference. Ghost would know. But she wasn’t here. The Multiplier’s torso—if it could be called that—looked impenetrable, and if not for the harbingers stolen spell, I would be hard pressed to find a way to kill it.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you! You are hidden.

I drew to a halt, then walking sideways, circled the unmoving elite until my corpse was directly ahead. Although, it could hardly be dignified as such. My remains were more properly a pile of ashes. A trace of a smile flickered across my face. Not even Avery and his ilk would get any use out of it.

My gear though, seemed intact. However, the harbinger’s oblivion spell functioned, it seemed to have left inanimate things untouched. Ten yards separated me from the discarded items. Placing my feet with care, I inched closer.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you!

I advanced another step.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you!

Pausing, I lifted my gaze to study my foe. There was no change in its demeanor and given the alienness of its form I could not tell how alert delete was.

I took another step.

You have failed a magical resistance check!

You have triggered an alarm.

A Force Multiplier has detected you! You are no longer hidden.

“Damn,” I muttered and weaving psi prepared to dash forward the remaining distance to my stuff. But before I could act, motion around the corner of my eye drew my attention.

One of the odd-looking rectangular shapes had detached itself from the monolithic elite and was falling to the ground in eerie silence. But other than for this lone change, there was no other reaction from my foe. Feeling sudden trepidation, I watched the falling shape intently.

A foot from the ground, it burst apart in a shower of light.

A Light mimic has spawned.

Acquiring target…

…

…

Target acquired. Mimic configuration complete.

Chosen template: the player named Michael, a level 182 voidstalker.

The dancing afterimages faded from my eyes to reveal a glowing white form that was my spitting image, right down to my newbie clothes and ebonheart, which was clutched tightly in my right hand.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered.