Grand Game 406: Don’t Toy with an Elite (Patreon)

Ghost had as little trouble with her half of the skirmish as I had. She, though, did not suffer any of the possessed to live.

Your familiar has killed 9 hostile entities.

Your deception has reached rank 19.

Ghost’s magma maw has reached rank 3 and her stygian claws rank 4.

“Should I chase him?” the pyre wolf asked, eagerly eyeing the corridor down which the warrior had fled.

“No,” I replied absently, surveying the room again. “I need him to warn Castor.”

“Oh. So you mean to lure him here?”

“That’s right, and before he arrives we need to prepare the ground.”

“Prepare how?”

“Well, by laying some traps for one,” I said, rushing to the center of the room.

Castor knew I had good stealth which would make him wary of the room’s shadows and edges. This being the case, he would mostly likely stay in the hall’s center—making it the perfect place to lay my traps. Raising my left arm, I tapped the blue rune on my trapper’s wristband.

“Won’t he suspect an ambush?”

“He might,” I replied. “But I doubt that will stop him from coming after me anyway.”

“But surely he isn’t so foolish as not to search for traps first?” Ghost persisted. “You’ve used them against him before after all.”

I lowered my arm. “You’re right,” I said slowly in dawning realization. I’d employed my traps during Castor’s ambush in the council hall, and that incident was memorable enough that the elite would expect something similar this time around.

“So, no traps then?” Ghost asked, watching me carefully.

I bit my lip, thinking. “Oh, I still think traps are warranted,” I said at last, “but perhaps a bit more creativity is required.”

✵ ✵ ✵

A little later, Ghost and I were ready.

I had no idea how long Castor would take to respond and as a result had to rush my initial placement of the traps, but as time ticked away, and still the elite didn’t show, I expanded my ambush, until ten minutes later, I had set all the traps I needed—and more.

But still the elite didn’t show.

“What’s keeping him?” I muttered from where I lay nestled in shadows filling the southwest corner of the room.

“Maybe he is not coming,” Ghost suggested. She, lacking my stealth, had been forced to return to the Cloak of the Reach.

“Oh, he is coming,” I said, but I was no longer as certain as before. Saying nothing else, I turned my attention back to the doorway I’d spent the last few minutes watching.

The hall had two entrances. The south one through which Ghost and I had first entered, and the north one, down which the warrior had fled. Given what I knew of the level’s layout, I expected Castor and the remaining possessed under his command, numbering a whole three—assuming the elite hadn’t killed the warrior for his cowardice—to arrive through the north entrance.

But maybe Castor was trying to be clever. Maybe he was circling around to the south entrance—or had decided to bypass the great hall altogether.

Damn, I hope not. Both possibilities would certainly complicate matters.

Another ten minutes passed, forcing me to contemplate abandoning my ambush. It didn’t look like Castor was coming. But just as I was giving the idea of retreat serious consideration, a Game message dropped into my mind.

You have passed a Perception check! You have detected two hostile entities.

Macklin is no longer hidden!

Amber is no longer hidden!

I tensed, ready to burst into motion. Ghost and I were no longer the great hall’s only occupants. Outlined in the open doorway of the north entrance were two slim figures. Crouched low and with only their heads moving, they scanned the room, each movement slow and deliberate.

Which, for a second, puzzled me. Didn’t the pair realize they’d been uncovered? But it seemed they hadn’t. Huh, fancy that, I thought with a small smile.

A second later, one of the figure’s gazes crossed over my hiding spot—

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

—and continued on without pause.

My grin widened. I clearly outclassed the pair when it came to Perception and sneaking. The question now, though, was what next?

Castor still hadn’t shown himself, but I had no doubt that Amber and Macklin were his. The elite had obviously sent the pair to scout the way forward—a move I hadn’t anticipated. Still, seeing as the two hadn’t uncovered me there was no reason to alter my plans.

Easing back into the shadows, I waited to see what they would do next.

The pair crept into the room, not all the way, just a few feet and swept the hall again with their eyes. Once more, they failed to find me.

A third scan, then a fourth—both of which came up negative. Finally, seemingly reassured, the pair unbent from their crouches. Glancing over his shoulder, Macklin whispered, “It’s clear, boss.”

A pause. “You’re sure?”

I stilled my excitement. I recognized the voice. It was Castor, and from the sounds of it he was somewhere in the corridor beyond the north entrance and showing more caution than I’d expected. Could the elite be nervous?

It certainly seemed so. Now, now, Castor, don’t be shy. Come on in.

“Yes,” Amber replied. “He isn’t here.”

“Our people?” Castor asked, not budging from wherever he waited.

“Dead,” Macklin said flatly.

“What about traps? Have you found any?”

The pair exchanged glances and Amber rolled her eyes. Macklin’s response was more measured. “We’re just about to,” he said.

“Well, get on with it, then,” Castor snapped testily.

The scouts closed their eyes, no doubt activating some sort of trap detection ability. I watched on, curious to see if they would fare any better this time around. My thieving skill was significantly lower than my sneaking. Just how good were these scouts?

A second later, I had my answer.

Amber has spotted your traps!

Macklin has spotted your traps!

Huh, I grunted disappointedly. I clearly needed to work on my thieving skills more.

Both scouts’ eyes snapped open, and even though they were nowhere near the closest trigger, they both jumped back in shock. “Damn,” Amber exclaimed.

“What’s wrong?” Castor demanded.

“There’s at least twenty traps here,” Macklin answered. “Enough to blow us all into nothingness.” His eyes narrowed as he studied the glowing flecks of red only he could see. “We might be able to disable them,” he added—somewhat reluctantly, I thought.

“Don’t,” Castor ordered. “I have a better idea. I’m coming in.”

Macklin’s eyes widened. “You’re sure, boss?”

“Yes,” Castor said, his voice growing louder as he drew closer. “If that bastard went to all that trouble of laying that many traps, you can bet your ass he is hiding somewhere close by, watching.”

The elite’s voice was filled with a new confidence that immediately set me on edge. What is he planning now? I wondered. I didn’t know, but I suspected things were about to come to a head soon and set about renewing my buffs.

Your Dexterity has increased by +8 ranks for 20 minutes.

You have gained an encumbrance aura for 10 minutes.

You have blurred your form, making yourself 50% harder to see for 2 minutes.

You have trigger-cast quick mend.

A moment later, Castor appeared in the doorway with two figures in tow. My attention fixed on the elite. Even in the dimly lit great hall, he sparkled, covered from head to toe in an array of spelled defenses. Clearly, Castor was taking no chances. “In that case, we better give him a show,” he went on. “Let’s see how he likes watching his friends burn.”

My gaze shifted to the two men behind the possessed.

It was Lorn and Stormhammer.

✵ ✵ ✵

For a moment, I froze.

What were Lorn and Stormhammer doing here? A myriad of possibilities flashed through my mind, including the worst ones.

The pair had betrayed me again. Their torture had been a ploy. I’d been deceived.

Then a third figure walked in—the warrior who’d fled earlier. In his hands were a pair of heavy chains. My thoughts still reeling, I followed the thick iron links to the other end where they wrapped around the orc’s and dwarf’s hands.

They’re prisoners.

The realization only made things worse. Now, my plan really was in shambles. If Lorn and Stormhammer were victims, I couldn’t in good conscience let them die. I would have to save them.

Damn. Damn. And damn.

“You hear me, Taim?” Castor called out suddenly. “I’m holding the councilors hostage. If you don’t do as I say, I’ll walk them through the very traps you set for me. How does that sound?”

“Don’t listen to—” Lorn began but got no further as the warrior cuffed him across the back of the head.

“Kill the bastard, Taim!” Stormhammer growled before he, too, was similarly silenced.

Castor laughed, but there was an edge to it. “I hold all the cards, Taim. Show yourself! Or your friends will pay!”

“Prime, what do we do?” Ghost asked.

I had no answer for her, lost for the moment in a sense of déjà vu. This situation was similar in many ways to the one I’d found myself in with the goblin goliath and the dire wolves.

The Fangtooths had held Aira’s pups captive and it was only through the dint of luck and carelessness on the part of the goblins that I’d been able to save them.

Somehow, I didn’t think Castor would be nearly as careless.

But then, I thought, the fog of indecisiveness around my mind clearing, I’m no longer the same player I was then. A plan coalescing, I began casting.

“ANSWER ME, TAIM!” Castor screamed, the whites of his eyes filling with light—a golden, hot hungry light. Was that a spell he was casting?

Macklin eyed his superior uneasily. “You’re sure he is here, boss?”

“I am,” Castor spat, specks of saliva flying from his mouth. “Last chance, Taim,” he growled. “If you don’t reveal yourself this instant, I’ll—”

You have cast ventro.

“I’m here,” I replied, projecting my voice so it floated out of the south entrance corridor. The four possess spun in that direction. Castor’s hands clenched and unclenched, and I could see he itched to throw his magic at me. But he had no target—yet. “What do you want, Castor?” I asked.

“You!” he retorted. “Give yourself up and that unholy nether creature you’ve summoned.”

“Hear that, Ghost? You’re an unholy nether creature now.”

“It’s a step up from devil dog, I suppose,” she said, amusement tracing her voice.

“And why should I do that,” I replied, making no effort to conceal my incredulity. “You’ll only kill me and the councilors then.” While I spoke, I began a second casting.

“Oh, you I will definitely kill,” he hissed. “They, I will spare.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s too bad, because if you want them to live you have no choice but to trust me,” Castor spat.

“Actually, I do,” I said and released the casting I held ready.

You have cast mass charm.

You have charmed 5 of 6 targets for 20 seconds.

You have failed to charm 1 of 6 targets. Note, targets protected by a mage shield are immune to mental manipulation.