Grand Game 388: The Wolf Lord (Patreon)
Content
*** Note, I changed Draven's final statement in the last chapter to say, 'five days' ***
“Five days,” I muttered.
“Can you wait that long?” Adriel asked quietly.
I shrugged. “It seems I have no choice but to.”
“Where is he going anyway?” Ghost asked, watching Draven recede into the distance.
“Away from us, I suspect,” Adriel replied. She turned back to me. “What will you do now?”
“Finish my Class advancement for starters.” I glanced upward at the unchanging violet sky. “Then rest and recover.” I threw her a wry smile. “It’s been a long day.”
She replied with a fleeting smile of her own. “And after that?”
My smile faded and I glanced northwards. Five days, I mused to myself. That would be enough time to visit New Haven and return. I hadn’t planned on visiting the city before leaving the dungeon, but if Draven was going to keep me at loose ends for five days…
“I will visit New Haven,” I said.
Adriel nodded. “I thought you might. In that case, I’ll head back to the lich’s court and reclothe myself.” She grimaced. “I can’t remember the last time I stayed in spiritform for this long.” She glanced at Ghost. “I’m not sure how you managed it for all those years.”
The pyre wolf’s eyes grew mournful. “It was... difficult.”
Adriel ruffled her coat. “That’s all behind you now,” she said soothingly. “And soon you will have even less to fear,” she added, shooting me a meaningful glance.
I nodded, signifying my agreement with Adriel’s unvoiced suggestion. The journey north would also give me the opportunity to acquire the Class ability point I needed to finally make Ghost my familiar. “That reminds me... what happens when I become an elite?”
Adriel’s brows rose in surprise. “You don’t know?”
“I don’t,” I confessed. “I know that whatever the Game has in store for me at level two hundred, it will include a significant boost to my power. And I won’t lie, I’m looking forward to—”
I broke off. Adriel was shaking ahead. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Michael,” the spirit said, “but little beyond the norm awaits you at your next level advancement.”
I stared at her. “You can’t be serious!”
Adriel winced. “I am unfortunately.”
I threw up my hands. “But what about all the tales of powerful elites that I’ve heard about?” Not waiting for her to answer, I went on. “The entire time I was in Nexus, other players kept filling my ears about the differences between regular players and elites, about how elites were so much stronger, and about how hard it was to become one. You can’t seriously be telling me all those stories were false?”
“I’m not.”
Consternation flickered across my face. “Then what are you telling me?”
Adriel sighed. “Everything you heard was true—”
“Then why—”
“—for Forcesworn players,” she finished, speaking over me.
I groaned, realizing where this was going. “You mean Darksworn, Lightsworn, and Shadowsworn, don’t you?”
She nodded. “If that’s what they’re calling themselves these days.”
I closed my eyes. “And I don’t belong to any of the Forces.”
“You don’t,” she agreed. “You are a scion. As a Housebound player your progression path is different.”
I rubbed at my temples. “Go on, tell me how.”
Adriel shrugged. “There is not much to tell. You already know half of it. Scions awaken blood memories. Most can do so even as lowly rank one players, and as they advance in rank, the number of blood memories they can hold increases. Players who bind themselves to the Forces are different. In the place of blood memories, they gain Force abilities, but they only acquire them at level two hundred.”
I opened my eyes. “Force abilities. You’re saying that’s what makes elites so strong?”
Adriel nodded. “Yes. Many argue Force abilities are just as powerful as blood memories—that’s nonsense, though.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But that is a whole other topic.”
I chewed over her words, focusing on what was of immediate import. “How do elites gain these abilities?”
Adriel smiled humorlessly. “That’s the thing. Unlike blood memories, Force abilities are earned directly from the Game and are progressively awarded to Forcesworn players from rank five onwards.”
“But that’s, that’s…” I stared at her, at a loss for words.
“…simple? Unfair?” Adriel chuckled darkly. “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. In many ways, it is significantly easier for the Forcesworn to gather power.” Her lips twisted sourly. “It is one of the many reasons their rebellion was successful.”
I frowned, not following this latest tangent. “What does that mean?”
Adriel sighed as she met my gaze. “You already know how hard it is to acquire blood memories, right?”
I nodded.
“Forcesworn don’t have the same problem. What’s more, the nature of the Forces makes bloodline strength less relevant. Couple those two things together, and what do you have? A whole bunch of players who felt—and rightly so, I may add—that they could advance higher and easier outside their Houses than they could within them.”
I rubbed my chin. “So… you’re saying players were attracted to the Force because it was the easier path to power?”
“Yes,” Adriel replied, nodding emphatically. “Binding oneself to the Forces became so popular that it wasn’t long before the Forcesworn outnumbered the Houses. From there, it was only a short step to believing it should be they who ruled—and not the Primes.” She shrugged. “And the rest, you know.”
I nodded slowly. I did indeed.
Adriel floated away. “I see I have given you a lot to think about. I will leave you now. See to your progression and rest. We’ll talk further in the morning.”
I glanced up. “What will you do in the meantime?” In spiritform, Adriel had little need for sleep.
The lich looked in the direction of the guardian. “Perhaps, I will go pester him for more answers,” she said with a smile.
I watched Adriel’s retreat for a moment, then turned my attention inwards. It was time to complete my Class advancement.
✵ ✵ ✵
Choose your ascendant Class benefit now.
I stared at the Game alert hanging in front of my eyes while I pondered the three choices on offer: were’s bite, wolf howl, and bloodlust.
Two of the options—bloodlust and wolf’s howl—were combat oriented. Bloodlust would give me a permanent aura, whereas the effects of wolf’s howl were only temporary. As such, I expected the buffs provided by bloodlust to be weaker than the debuffs induced by wolf’s howl. But, as ascendant abilities, I nevertheless expected both to be powerful.
Still, I felt little inducement to acquire either ability.
Wolf’s howl only did what I already could with slaysight and charm and, even if its effects were more wide-ranging, the ability felt… redundant.
Bloodlust on the other hand was only of benefit when I had allies nearby, which even though I’d adopted the commander Class, I didn’t expect to always be the case. In fact, I still foresaw fighting many of my future battles alone.
That left were’s bite.
It was the most intriguing of the three benefits the Game had offered me. Calling up its description, I studied it avidly again.
Were’s bite: this trait awakens the strains of lycanthropy in your blood. While it does not make you a werewolf, there is a small chance that henceforth your bite will permanently transform another player into one.
Admittedly, the reference to ‘small chance’ made the trait less appealing, but the promise of a permanent transformation more than made up for that lack.
From my discussions with Anriq, I knew werewolves were powerful. Besides the physical boost their were-forms gave them—which even a caster would find handy—a werewolf’s health regeneration skills was nearly unmatched in the Game.
It would make my followers hardy fighters—with or without me close by to lead them. And that, more than anything else, made the trait attractive.
There were also other benefits. Anriq had strongly implied that a werewolf’s Wolf Mark would, of its own volition, deepen with time in a similar manner that a Forcesworn’s Mark did. It meant my followers would have an easier time evolving than I did.
Of course, I expected the trait would have limitations too. Given what I knew of werewolves, I did not anticipate the bite would work on anyone who didn’t bear some measure of the Wolf bloodline. Hopefully, though, the restriction would not be too onerous.
Reviewing the options, I realized I’d already made my choice, and without further ado, willed my intent to the Adjudicator.
Ascendant Class upgrade complete.
You have gained the trait: were’s bite. This trait gives your bite a 10% chance of granting another player the werewolf trait. Depending on the strength of the bitten player’s blood and the Marks they bear, this probability will either be increased up to a maximum of 20% or down to 0%.
Note, were’s bite is not a combat ability, and it cannot transform an unwilling subject. In the event that the bitten player accepts your bite but fails to acquire the werewolf trait, their body will be fatally overrun with lycanthropy.
My lips turned down as I read the last part of the trait’s description. “Fatally overrun,” I murmured. That meant death. The stakes of the bite were higher than I expected, leaving me less enthused about trying it out.
Still, at least it doesn’t cause final death.
Despite the limitations, I would make the trait work. But that was a problem for another day. Sighing, I turned my mind to the next matter needing my attention: spending my new attribute points.
Here, at least, there were no pitfalls to avoid. The Game had granted me a whole twenty points for acquiring an ascendant Class, and I already knew how to spend them.
Your Dexterity has increased to rank 71. Other modifiers: +24 from items.
Your Perception has increased to rank 49. Other modifiers: +4 from items.
I invested seven points in Dexterity, gaining the fifteen slots I needed for the fade ability when it was ready for advancement, and the rest I dumped into Perception.
My new Power Mark had left me vulnerable and, given that I would soon be amongst players again, improving my deception skill and abilities had become top priority again. Loken had shown me often enough that it was possible to so change one’s identity that not even another Power could penetrate the disguise.
And if Loken could do it, so could I.
With my player progression seen to, that left only two more matters to address before I could lay down and rest. Opening my eyes, I looked at the pyre wolf lounging silently by my side. “Ghost,” I said softly.
She glanced up at me. “It’s time?”
I nodded.
Neither Ghost nor I could risk her being manifested while I slept—not yet. Knowing this as well as I did, the pyre wolf did not protest. Rising to her feet, she leapt at me, her stygian form unraveling faster than it had formed and disappearing entirely before she could crash into me.
Ghost has cast unmanifest.
“I don’t like this,” Ghost grumbled from within the Cloak of the Reach.
“I know, but you won’t have to endure it much longer. Just another day.”
Ghost said nothing, but I felt her mindglow settle into the state that betokened sleep. Reminded of my own awaiting rest, I set about my last chore of the day: casting spellhold.
My void armor still retained memory of Farren’s spell, darkness bolt, though it would not keep for much longer, and as powerful as the spell had proved, I was sure it would come in handy at some future point.
Letting my magic form the weaves of the darkness bolt spell, I directed the casting into the ring on my finger.
Spellhold enchantment activated.
You have successfully stored the darkness bolt spell in the ring, mage’s surprise. This spell may now be trigger-cast when required.
With that done, I laid down and closed my eyes. Finally, I could rest and ponder what the new day would bring.