Grand Game 401: Blooded (Patreon)

“You’ve found the tunnel entrance?” Ghost guessed.

“I have,” I replied, turning back to Lorn. The New Haven councilor was in a bad way, but there was nothing I could do for him.

I had three health potions left, having given the rest to Adriel and Farren in preparation for the fight against the harbinger, but trying to get one to Lorn meant revealing myself, and I couldn’t do that—not yet. Whoever Dirk was, I hoped he could help the orc. Once he did, I would act.

In preparation for the upcoming encounter, I studied my foes. Now that the entertainment Jorge had provided was over, most of the possessed had gone back to work—torturing prisoners—but not Hansen. No longer feigning disinterest, he’d strode over to the hapless orc and studied him with as much concern as I felt.

At level one hundred and forty-two, Hansen was the biggest threat in the room. All the other possessed were below rank thirteen which was a relief. Given the disparity in numbers I was facing, that went a long way to balancing the odds. Still, more than half the possessed were casters—adding an element of unpredictability I disliked—and I knew I couldn’t count on a quick or easy victory.

But I had surprise on my side. And Ghost.

The chances were good, I thought, of not only defeating the torturers but also preventing them from alerting the rest of their companions in the tunnel below.

“What’s the plan?” Ghost asked.

“Nothing complicated,” I replied with a shrug. “We defeat the possessed in this hall while stopping them from being reinforced from below.”

A pause. “How do we do that?”

My gaze drifted to the hatch. Jorge and another possessed—Dirk presumably—were climbing out. “We make sure the trapdoor stays closed.”

“You said ‘we’ again,” Ghost observed with barely suppressed eagerness. “Does that mean…?”

I smiled. “It does. It’s time you joined in the fight.”

✵ ✵ ✵

Before hurrying off to join Hansen, Jorge and Dirk resealed the hatch and renewed the illusion concealing it, but I had already marked its location in my mind and didn’t doubt I’d be able to find it again.

As the pair made their way across the hall, I began moving, too, sliding along the wall at my back.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you!

None of the possessed even glanced my way. The shadows around the edges of the room were thick and my stealth was too high for them to spot me.

It was slow going, but eventually I reached my target destination—an alcove less than three yards from the hatch. Drawing to a halt, I turned my attention back to the possessed huddled around Lorn.

The orc’s wounds had disappeared.

While Lorn’s face was no less bloodied, his bruises had faded and the dazed senseless look from his eyes had vanished. In fact, given the murderous snarl on the orc’s face, he was fighting fit once more.

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. So, Dirk is a healer, I thought, studying the still-chanting possessed. Useful that.

“Are we ready to begin?” Ghost asked.

“Just about,” I replied. Closing my eyes, I saw to my buffs.

You have renewed your facial disguise, cast heightened reflexes, load controller, fade, and trigger-cast quick mend.

Opening my eyes, I studied the hatch again. I’d already inspected the room with my sorcerer’s coif but had uncovered no wards. The forthcoming battle would be a straight-up fight—as much as any fight was one, anyway. I did need to protect the hatch, though.

And for that I needed to get closer.

Glancing up, I scanned the room. No one was looking my way. Still, it paid to be careful. Dropping down flat, I crawled toward the hidden trapdoor.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you!

Stretched out on the floor, and obscured by the torture devices, there was little chance of me being spotted. Reaching the hatch, I rubbed my thumb across the blue rune on my trapper’s wristband.

You have passed a thieving skill check!

You have removed 24 trap-making crystals from your trapper’s wristband. Remaining trap-making crystals: 100 of 200.

Thus far, I had been nursing my traps, but with my time in Draven’s Reach coming to an end, I could afford to be a bit more expansive in my use of them. Maneuvering carefully around the spot I knew the hatch to occupy, I set my traps.

You have connected 10 bear clamp elements to 10 pressure plate triggers and 2 darkness elements to 2 motion pins.

24 tier 3 traps have been successfully configured!

Not wanting to risk any damage to the hatch itself—who knew what alarms that would set off?—I forwent using the more destructive toys in my arsenal. Besides which, I didn’t need the traps to kill my foes. I could do that well enough on my own; I only needed to stop the possessed from going down the hatch.

The trapdoor seen to, I rose into a crouch and peered over the adjacent table.

Dirk, Hansen, and Jorge were still clustered around the strapped down orc, and from the looks of it, the healer was berating the pair. The other seventeen possessed were unhelpfully spread about the room, leaving me with no group to target with my area of effect spells. Oh well. I guess, I’ll just have to do this the hard way.

“What now?” Ghost asked.

“You manifest.”

A pause. “As in right now?”

“Yes, as in right now,” I said, smiling at her disbelieving tone. Leaving her to it, I drew psi and began my own assault.

You have cast slaysight.

You have induced 4 of 4 targets to sleep for 40 seconds.

As one, Jorge, Hansen, Dirk, and Lorn’s eyes closed, the former three slumping to the floor while the orc sagged back against his restraints.  Perfect.

The four were now out of the fight. Hopefully by the time they woke up, Ghost and I would have dealt with the rest of the possessed. Ignoring the surprised murmurs in the room at the surprised collapse of their trio, I glanced at the burgeoning darkness next to me. “You remember the plan?”

She nodded, her predatory gaze not shifting from her chosen target—a lanky possessed eight yards away.

“Then go forth and wreak havoc,” I ordered lightly.

Ghost has taken the form of a level 201 stygian pyre wolf.

Not needing a second invitation, the pyre wolf bounded forward. As yet, her appearance had gone unnoticed, but that wouldn’t last. Still, I judged Ghost would manage her first kill unimpeded.

A splotch of fast-moving blackness, the pyre wolf blurred across the room. Three yards from the possessed, she sprang. A pleased grin stretched across my face. Ghost had timed her leap perfectly.

Unfortunately, her target chose then to turn.

Perhaps the mage had spotted the streak of orange and black at his back. Or perhaps some inbred instinct had warned him. Whatever the case, as the possessed swung around, he raised his arm to ward off the incoming attack.

Your familiar has injured Cedric.

The mage’s maneuver foiled Ghost’s attack, turning a killing strike into a glancing blow. Still, he would’ve done better to dodge. As the heavier and much larger pyre wolf crashed into her foe, he toppled backward, borne down by her weight.

Ghost has activated astral bite.

Your familiar has knocked down her target.

Yelping in surprise—and fear—Cedric tried to fend off Ghost’s searching jaws, but the pyre wolf was having none of it. Lowering her head, she savaged the mage’s arm with teeth that dripped with fire and psi, and gouged his torso with paws tipped by gleaming bits of darkness.

Ghost’s magma maw has increased to level 2.

Ghost’s stygian claws has increased to level 2.

Ghost’s telepathy has increased to level 51.

Ghost’s magma maw has increased to level 3.

…

It would not be a clean kill nor a quick one, but I had no doubt my companion would triumph—given enough time, of course. However, the fracas was not overlooked.

Cedric’s screams were noticed. Shouting and yelling, the remaining possessed turned and reached for their weapons. Ghost sensed the change in the room, too. Pausing her frenzied assault, she raised glowing eyes to glare at our foes.

“Stay on the mage,” I instructed before she could break off entirely. “I’ll buy you some time.” Scanning the chamber, I picked out the most immediate threat—a female possessed.

Reacting faster than her fellows, the woman already had her right arm raised and pointed at Ghost. It was not an innocent gesture. Undoubtedly, she was about to unleash a casting on my familiar.

If I let her.

Diving into the aether, I blinked.

You have teleported 8 yards.

I emerged back in the real, crouched and hidden in my target’s shadow. Killing her would be easy, but I intended something more elaborate. Swift as thought, I unbent and wrapped my arm around the woman’s neck, jerking her up until her feet dangled off the ground.

You have interrupted your target’s casting. Jacilyn’s fire ray spell was disrupted!

A hostile entity has detected you! You are no longer hidden.

Jacilyn shrieked—loudly—and heads whipped in our direction.

“Shut up!” I roared—equally loud—and placed the tip of ebonheart against her neck.

“W-w-ho… are … you?” she asked, swallowing fearfully.

Ignoring her, I craned my neck from left to right and surveyed the room. In the process, I gave the other possessed a good look at my face. Baring my teeth, I waited for the inevitable moment of recognition.

It was not long in coming.

You have passed a mental resistance check! A hostile entity has failed to pierce your disguise and has been fed false analyze data.

“It’s him! He’s back!”

“Who?”

“The player. Taim! The one the boss is after!”

I concealed a smile. I’d captured the attention of every able-bodied possessed in the room which meant that, for the moment at least, Ghost and her foe were forgotten.

“What about the thing that’s got Cedric?”

“Forget the devil dog! Get Taim!”

“But Castor said—”

“The bastard killed Avery! He’s mine!”

“No, stop! We can’t take him alone. We need the others.”

Spells were released, bows were drawn, fighters began their charges, and shields popped into existence. The last was unfortunate but couldn’t be helped.

You familiar has killed Cedric.

It was the moment I’d been waiting for.

Not hesitating, I thrust ebonheart downward, ending my captive’s life in a single violent stroke. Flinging away the corpse, I tossed the stone vials I’d been holding ready in anticipation.

You have ignited 3 smoke bombs.

Plumes of gray exploded in the room, partially obscuring me from view. They did nothing to stop the avalanche of projectiles heading my way, though.

“Move, Ghost!” I ordered. Doing the same myself, I dove to the side and out of the center of the approaching onslaught.

You have evaded 4 of 11 attacks, and your void armor has repelled 2 hostile spells.

A cold missile has hit you.

A wilting ray has grazed you.

A sunburst dart has struck you.

A swarm of insects have bitten you.

Void armor charge remaining: 75%. Your health has decreased to 87%.

The storm descended—and passed—leaving me only a little worse for wear. I was chilled, stung, partially blinded, and weakened, but for all that, the rain of spells was ineffective.

If that’s the best they’ve got, I thought as I bounced back to my feet, this is going to be a short fight.

A gloom bolt has struck you.

No sooner had I finished the thought than a heavy quarrel found me, punching a hole through my gut.

Liga Tor has critically injured you!

Quick mend triggered!

Suddenly weak-limbed, I dropped back to one knee. Damn, where did that come from? I hadn’t even seen the crossbow bolt. Either the archer had uncannily good aim or I had abysmal luck.

“Prime!” Ghost cried.

“I’ll be alright,” I gasped through gritted teeth. “Don’t come to—”

Movement at the edge of my vision drew my eye.

A warrior was charging toward me through the smoke. I’d survived the first spate of attacks, but the next wave was already incoming. However, I was in no condition to face it.

Grasping the bolt in my gut to prevent it from dealing more damage, I rolled awkwardly across the ground and into the nearest smoke plume.

You are hidden.