Several explosions shake our side as the opposition seemingly cast area spells at random. Odd, I expected them to be closer. I was a bit worried since I’m not using my concealment spell, and avoiding divination directed destruction can be tricky even with it. But their aim is awful, as if they’re just hoping to hit us with blind luck. I expected our efforts to confuse them to have some effect, but not this much.
Maybe they’re being more strategic than tactical. They know they have an overwhelming advantage, and so the only way for us to win is to slip past with minimal fighting. In this one way the scenario is set up in our advantage. The lighting has been reduced back to dusk levels, and the dust buildings are tightly packed with alleys far more twisting than any I’ve seen in the capital – a veritable maze.
So, rather than trying to hit us, they’re systematically destroying the tightly packed pseudo buildings to eliminate our hiding spots. The pattern is a bit erratic for that, leaving gaping holes, or rather non-holes. But each mage probably has an assigned sector which they’re working on without referencing the others. It’s a bit roundabout, but it’s the best explanation I can think of.
An orb, shining like the sun in this dusk light, shoots up from the far side, arcing almost to the ceiling before crashing down directly on my prior perch – vaporizing the structure in a fiery detonation.
… Well, at least one of them is seriously trying to kill us.
I stop winching and flip the silver rod out, chanting a divination for the orb’s caster. Either they’re good, or the other side is divining too much and causing distortions, but, after about twenty seconds of the rod’s intense vibrations and rapidly cycling hot and cold, I narrow it down enough to cast the missile guidance. Then, not needing to maintain the divination to maintain the spell, I turn the rod towards safety and jump to a third perch to finish winching.
As expected, they find my second spot easily well before I’m done loading, so I’m forced to find yet another perch before I’m finally able to shoot. I chant a quick divination to make sure there aren’t too many walls in the way, then pull the lever. The crossbow shudders as it releases the bolt, and a half second later the rod goes cold.
Footsteps, rushing from the side, growing near. I drop the heavy crossbow and pull the light one off my back, loading a bolt as I spin to face the direction of the sound. A squire with sword in hand and wearing chainmail leaps smoothly to the roof in an efficient arc.
Not having time to cast guidance, I pull the lever before they can land, sending the bolt into their chest with a satisfyingly dark red circle. They cry out as they stumble back from the sudden pain and fall down to the ground.
I toss the light crossbow aside and ready my sling as I rush to the edge. They supinely moan, clearly stunned by their fall and chest wound – giving me plenty of time to cast guidance and throw a bullet into the gap of their open-faced helmet. Another dark red circle appears, but they don’t die, so I throw another bullet which finishes them off.
More running footsteps approach from two directions, but farther off. Sigh: squires. Why would they even be this far from their side? I’m at the very back of our starting area, so they must have all decided to charge us in hopes of quick kills, then heard my crossbow. The heavy does have a quieting enchantment, but it just reduces the sound to the levels of a mundane one – easily heard with enhanced senses even with the explosions. I should be happy that they’re willingly making gaps for my team, but I don’t feel it.
I rush back to retrieve my dropped weapons, strapping the heavy on my back, and giving the light a quick yank to speed the self-loading. Being at the back I don’t have much room to retreat, so I listen a second for which of the approaching enemies are closer… the left, so I go right.
I leap from roof to roof for a ten count then drop prone – my cloak, colour changed to match the dark grey of the dust, conceals my form. The crossbow still has a few inches to go, but I draw a bolt in preparation anyways, aiming back towards my abandoned perch. A five-count goes by before a sword and shield wielding squire leaps into view. Two inches before I can shoot, so I hold off casting lest it alerts them.
A second squire, this one with a bow, leaps up after them. I still hear footsteps, so presumably there’s a third coming. The two present search for me, peering down assuming I’ve slipped into an alley. My heart pounds as I watch the string slip closer into position, not daring to help it along. I try to calm, knowing some squires might be able to hear a heart beating this loudly this close, but that just makes it worse.
At half an inch to go I cast my spell in a hushed whisper – they don’t hear me, but they do hear a second later when the crossbow clicks into shooting position. Their heads snap towards the sound as I pull the lever.
The archer has an open-faced helmet like the first one, so I ignore Emily’s advice and shoot them in the gap. The darkness conceals the bolt enough that they don’t even try to dodge until after the black circle appears. They let out a cry, then collapse to the ground.
The sword and shield wielder wastes time dropping to a knee to check on them despite seeing the circle, giving me time to cast guidance on them and throw a bullet into their head. They fall back as it clangs into the helmet, but the circle that appears is red, not black. Still, the pain stuns them enough to buy distance as I flee, which is about as much as I could hope for. A few seconds later I hear the third squire reach them, then continue running towards me as their wounded ally shouts, “That way, on the roof!” and presumably points.
They’re fast, wearing only a gambeson, and gradually gain ground. My crossbow finishes recocking just as a wall of light appears before me, meaning I’ve run out of room. I curse under my breath, I didn’t mean to go so far, but they’re a competent hunter – keeping towards the inside to cut me off from dashing for more room. Beyond being cornered though, the wall gives my position away to the random chanters.
I turn and cast the guidance spell. It takes about a second to cast, in which time they move to throw their javelin. Seeing this, I do the opposite of normal and crank up the power to make the painting light as bright as possible.
I don’t know why the spell requires a light effect to guide the insensate projectile (I did once, but that knowledge was erased as part of the price for learning the spell), nor why the minimum light is ‘just visible to me if it was in darkness’ regardless of if I can see the target (a nuance favourable to me given the cat’s boon to my night vision), nor why increasing the spells power only affects the light and not the guidance ability, but I’m grateful for it here. Their aim jerks in the suddenly blinding light, causing the javelin to miss without the need to dodge.
I load and shoot a bolt, but they instinctively dodge, causing it to hit lung rather than heart. A wound debilitating to a mundane, but not a squire. They close in, eyes squinting in the light as they draw a throwing knife.
Cursing, I drop off the roof, only to be swallowed up in chaos a second later. A series of explosions knocks me from my feet, vaporizing the surrounding buildings in a swirl of vision obscuring dust, but nothing hits me directly.
The squire, still on the roof, isn’t so fortunate. I look up just in time to seem hit directly by a fiery blast and knocked from the vaporized building with black circles appearing immediately as they hit the stone ground. I smile: the mages saw the light wall, then my guidance spell and assumed it was where I was at. If people ask, I’ll say it was deliberate.
There’s a pause in the explosions as the mages chant their lengthy spells. Bad teamwork: they should have coordinated to be evenly spaced apart and for the first one to finish recasting immediately after the last one casts the first time, but it seems they’re casting from different locations and so can’t communicate.
I take advantage of their mistake and run away, leaving the bright guidance spell in place. I feel almost apologetic to squire knowing the unpleasantness I’m leaving them to, but smugness towards my clever thinking easily wins out. The ploy works. The enemy mages still think the light is from the boundary. They know the wall light would have disappeared if I died, and that there’s no reason for their team to hug the limit so closely, so assume I must still be there.
It doesn’t cause them any more harm, unless other squires rush in for some reason, but it does buy me time to escape and distracts them from their attempts to hit us by blind luck. One does figure out the trick and shifts back to their random pattern after the second round, but others continue on the spot for a full minute as I divine my way to a safe winching spot. Unfortunately, I had to drop my guidance spell on the second squire or I would try the trick on them…
I stop winching with a smile as a plan strikes. I quickly divine the location of my team, then do a second divination for immediate hostile intent (you can’t just divine people who wish you general harm with no immediate intent to act, otherwise I’d be dead by now, but it is possible to divine those with immediate intent in close proximity). I pick the hot flash that seems the closest to a boundary and cast guidance on it at maximum power. I can’t help but laugh as ten seconds later a round of explosions hit the spot and the rod goes cold.
I repeat the trick, laughter growing uncontrollably maniacal with each success (my arm shoved in my mouth to hopefully prevent giving my position away). They all figure it out after the fourth one, but that’s good too. I’ve gotten plenty of kills from it (I don’t know if they’ll award me points for them, but I won’t let that dampen my mood), and now the boundaries are safe to traverse. If I use them, they’ll assume I’m anywhere but there. Well, maybe not. I’ll leave that as a last resort.
The tactic exhausted, I shift back to my main plan of picking off their mages. I start with the smart one (the first to see through my ploy). The crossbow was nearly recocked when my ploy finally failed, so I winch a little more then let it finish on its own as I home in on the target. I’m able to cast guidance (on the lowest power) just as the string clicks into place, but a rod segment is cold, indicating there’s too many barriers in the way so I climb back to a roof and shoot them with a sudden stillness, my earlier frenzy suddenly vanished. Mischievous delight gone, I only feel vague satisfaction as the rod goes cold indicating the kill.
Footsteps, so I drop prone, peering over the ledge in their direction. A moment later the surviving squire of the first group, still with the slight trace of the head wound I gave them, comes into view. Some of the surrounding buildings have been levelled, allowing me to see them far enough to cast guidance. I’m about to do so when another comes.
Sigh, another chase would be annoying and would tire me besides. So, I crawl to the other side of the roof and drop off, trusting my cloak and boots to silence my landing.
It seems half their squires are searching our starting zone, and any further shots will no doubt cause them to swarm me. Again, I should be happy for my teammates, but again I’m not. I guess it’s time for the next part of the plan.
I creep out of the starting zone, going from building to building, cloak blending into the gloomy cavern. A few close calls, but I refrain from attacking – tensely holding my breath as well as I wait for the squire to move off. This would be so much easier if I had revealed my concealment spell, but fortunately its workings meant I never felt comfortable relying on it so am well versed in mundane methods of hiding.
Suspiciously so in fact. Knowing I’m being observed from above (literally, I would guess, but at least metaphorically) I make deliberate mistakes when I think it’s safe. Taking paths that are too in the open or leaving cover at the wrong time (a bit too soon or too late). Unfortunately, there aren’t any dry twigs I can ‘accidentally’ step on, so the subtler methods will have to do.
Slowly, but surely, I leave our starting zone, keeping close to, but not activating, a side boundary. About a third of the way in I hear nervous talking, and creep up to find the source: a screen of five mundanes nervously glancing about at the explosions as they softly reassure each other that their mages would definitely not hit their own team.
At least I assume they’re mundanes since they’re all armed with academy loaner gear which isn’t available to mages (unless they have unusual spells like me, though I’m also disqualified for support since I have my own better gear) and squires tend to have their own magic items. At the very least a mage should be able to afford their own gear, and if one is a squire then the loaned armour won’t protect them from fire.
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They haven’t spotted me, so I know I should just slip past. But the points are too tasty – half as much as me getting through – and they’re vulnerable, out here on their own without magic support. Afraid too. Poor things. Riley would be furious at their abandonment… I should relieve them of their suffering. Besides, it’ll distract them from my team.
I creep into range and softly chant a firestream. One notices me an instant too late – their scream of warning melding into screams of pain. Unfortunately for them I don’t dare maintain the stream for more than a second, meaning two of them are still ‘alive’ and screaming with circles all over as I rush off, knowing the enemy can tell that the spell was close ranged and that I’m in the area. Explosions rock us, mercifully ending the screams. I really hope I get points for induced friendly fire.
I use the silver rod to path through the blasts that expand out in a blind attempt to catch me. Presumably, they are using divinations to determine I’m still alive but aren’t using them to aim. Or at least their methods are imprecise or weak enough to be countered by the rod.
Footsteps behind me; the squires have my scent (hopefully not literally). Veering to the side in hopes of losing them I come across another mundane screen. Being already in trouble from my greed, I easily suppress the urge to kill them, but then notice one of them has a familiar looking heavy crossbow (of course they do, the seller did mention they were meant for mundanes) and my restraint is quickly overcomed.
They’re looking in the direction of the explosions from which I have taken a circuitous route, and so don’t see me despite my haste. They’re all so slapdash, their every motion displaying untrained thoughtlessness. I suppose it’s to be expected, the academy wants as many people as possible for the test, and most mundanes aren’t trained but still take it in hopes of easy points, or just the thrill or novelty. Easy prey, either way.
Not wanting to damage the weapon or give my position away, I circle around them and charge from behind with my sword drawn. My target is in the back, so I kill them first with a slash to the neck. Another falls before they realize I’m upon them, and a third before they fumble their spears defensively towards me. I easily slip past a point and stab the wielder’s throat. The last doesn’t even try to attack, but just screams wordlessly as loud as they can.
It’s not until after I kill them – the illusion system silencing their cries at the same time they do – that I realize the scream isn’t that of terror but resolve. An impressive insight. They know they couldn’t kill me, so deliberately didn’t try in favour of admirably fulfilling their role of reporting my position. I hope they get bonus points for that. I wish they were on my team – definitely more competent than Billy or the frightful youth, though I suppose they were helpful in their own ways.
As admirable as it was though, attention isn’t wholly undesirable. Screams are too imprecise to accurately lob fireballs at, and the squires won’t expect an ambush.
I stoop down to retrieve the enemy’s heavy crossbow, but its ‘dead’ owner refuses to let go. Understandable given its price, but still irritating.
“What are you doing? Fallen weapons are fair game.” I whisper harshly.
Their reply is silenced by the illusion system, but their expression is clear: fear mixed with resentment.
“The rules are clear, you’ll lose points if you don’t let me have it.” They hesitate, but still resist. Footsteps are nearing. I’ll be so irritated if I die from their stupid obstinance. I glance meaningfully in the direction of the approaching squire, though they probably can’t hear them. “I promise to give it back in a few seconds.”
They relent, allowing me to eagerly snap up the prize. I prop one of the ‘corpses’ up in a sitting position using my sword and kneel beside them as a barrier between me and the nearest footsteps – stolen weapon pointed at the approaching danger.
A squire in enchanted army armour with throwing spear and a large heavy shield rushes into view. They hesitate upon seeing their comrade shielding me but throw the spear a moment later upon realising they’re already dead.
The corpse's armour is the same as those worn by my teammates, meaning I’ve examined its magic. It’s cheap, with its sole line of enchantment causing it to be treated as being much more resilient for the purpose of the illusion system. Still, the squire is very strong. Black circles appear on both sides of the body shield and an illusionary blue flash indicates my shield would have been penetrated but not collapsed. However, no pain or red circle follows, meaning it wouldn’t have penetrated my armour, just as I expected.
Not deterred, they charge, drawing a short sword and trusting their shield to cover their vitals. A trust misplaced as I calmly cast guidance and shoot the stolen weapon. They drop with a cry, black circles appearing on the shield and over their heart.
Knowing the third crossbow will just slow me down, I toss it back to its owner as promised who catches it with a withering glance at my unconcern for their expensive property. I don’t bother to point out it has a self-repair symbol, and instead pull out my light crossbow then reposition myself so the human shield is between me and a second source of approaching footsteps.
Another bow wielding squire burst into view. I see them first and immediately start casting, drawing their attention. We shoot at the same time. Their aim is better than their spear throwing teammate, shooting around the body shield. I jerk away just in time, turning a direct headshot into a glancing blow. Well, ‘glancing’, but from the pain and the dark hue of the circle obscuring my right eye I would guess it would have fractured my skull.
They however drop to the ground with a black circle over their heart.
Hearing more footsteps, and out of readily shot weapons, I retreat forwards – casting my healing spell as I run. The pain lessens, and the circle fades to a pinkish hue that admits translucent vision.
I hear screams and clangs in the distance – no doubt Riley and co breaking through. I decide to let them be the distraction for once as I find a building to hide in as I finish healing and winch the heavy crossbow.
Once I’m ready to shoot I move to divine a mage directly in my path but hesitate as the screams and other sounds of violence continue. Sigh, I’ll get more points if three of them make it than if I do, so I chant divinations with squires in mind and in the screams’ direction.
I detect multiple likely squires that way, so I narrow it down to focus on magic full plate. One stands out, so I cast guidance, minimum power, and climb to a perch where I shoot them in the head. The rod goes cold so I run to a hiding spot and listen. No footsteps. I take the chance to winch, listening as the distant fighting fades in intensity and distance.
The team crisis perceived to be over, one way or another, I shift back to my own survival by finding a mage directly in my path and shooting them.
I curse as footsteps suddenly burst into perceivability, rushing towards me from all around. I was careless, hoping that most were drawn to the fighting, but it seems some realized the need to maintain the net. I’m deep enough in their territory to be surrounded, but not nearly enough to make a break for it.
I use the rod to find safety, but it vibrates heavily as the squires use their own methods – avenues of escape quickly being cut off.
I turn a corner and nearly bull into a mundane screen. One dutifully shouts (less resolve and more terror than the last one), while the others almost competently brandish their weapons towards me.
Spears bounce off my shield as I cut them down, but the blows weaken the spell enough for a crossbow (not as powerful as either of mine, but still magical and point blank) to completely collapse it upon striking.
I stumble back, clutching my stomach where the bolt hit and a dark red circle hovers. Seeing this a spear wielder is emboldened to charge. I let them strike; my armour only allowing a light wound circle as I cast a firestream that quickly kills them all.
I limp away, pride hurting at being nearly killed by untrained mundanes almost as much as the physical wounds. The only consolation is being able to tell Riley I was right about the utility of mundanes on their own.
I cast my healing spell, but the wound is deep, and the fading slow. I doubt it’ll heal to less than a medium red, and squires are still rushing in.
I spot one as I turn a corner to an alley, running towards me. I try to run but can only manage a brisk stumbling walk, a hand leaning on nearby walls as I do. Realizing the futility, I pull out the light crossbow and train it towards where they’ll turn the corner, but then I hear a shout as another spots me just as the first comes back into view.
I take a moment to examine their gear. Both wear chainmail and open-faced helmets. One has a sword and shield, while the other a two-handed polearm with a complicated head. Deciding the polearm is both more dangerous and more vulnerable I cast guidance on them and shoot them with a lightning enchanted bolt to the head to make sure they die.
I let my crossbow drop as they do. Resigned to death, I draw sword and dagger to face a foe I know I couldn’t beat even if I was uninjured. A look of glee on their face as they charge – they sense somehow that I’m defenceless.
I swing my sword, but they casually bat it aside with the shield. I expected this, and lunge forward with the iron phasing dagger, but they’re much quicker. Their sword stabs my shoulder, pain dropping the dagger. They smile as they kick me in the stomach, agony coursing through my whole body as they strike my wound and send me flying into a wall.
Knowing they won, they approach slowly with a wolfish grin. Sigh, it just had to be a sadist to kill me. I know the look. They’ll take their time, within allowance of the rules of course, killing with distant thrusts that just happen to miss my vitals saying they were afraid I might spring a trap if they got too close.
I’ve seen plenty of their type in Caethlon, joining our cell often without even hiding their lack of care for their homeland – just wanting an excuse to cause pain, to prove their superiority over their kills. For some reason, they tended to think I was a kindred spirit.
Knowing the usual quickest way out, I drop my sword and expose my neck for an easy kill. They scowl, no doubt displeased by my boring attitude as I’ve seen so many of their kind be. But they comply and move in to stab.
A blur from above knocks them to the ground. Confusion as I see Ser Terrance straddling over their supine form. The sadist tries to swing their sword, but Terrance pins the arm to the ground and yanks away their shield then repeatedly bashes them in the face with it – the red circle that appears growing darker with each strike until it finally fades to death black.
Unlike Billy, Ser Terrance stops immediately after the kill, then stands, turning to face me with a concerned, but irritatingly and charming unsure smile, lit by distant flashes of random explosions. It’s almost as if he’s nervous at me witnessing his brutality and wants my approval.
I don’t give it to him. “What are you doing here, Ser Terrance? You’re supposed to be far away, breaking through.”
He pouts. “Didn’t we agree on Ser Terry?”
I don’t give him the dignity of a response.
He shrugs, pretending not to care. “We did break through.” He beams with somehow increasing confidence and uncertainty – more odd need for my approval mixed with increased belief that he’ll get it. “Or Riley did at least. I think Adrian and the mundanes did too thanks to your chaos. Everyone but us is either past the finish line, or dead. But I thought I’d stay behind and repay the help you gave us.”
“What help?” I scowl.
“Aw, don’t play coy, I’m certain you knew what you were doing. We were completely surrounded, Riley and the pages wounded, enemy squires all around, behind which were two mages chanting powerful spells to finish us off. Then a bolt out of the blue… well, grey I suppose, slams into the heaviest armoured squire, opening the way to the mages.” He starts illustrating with dramatic gestures. “We charge through the hole you made, killing a mage before they finish. The other foolishly stops chanting, and is stunned by the backlash, allowing for an easy kill.
“We were still surrounded by enemy squires, outnumbered three to one. They charged, but our strength of arms prevailed. The pages died, but Riley and I, standing back to back, cut them down until none remained. It was a straight run after that. Riley crossed over, but I remembered the bolt and went back to repay the debt.”
“There is no debt.” I scowl. “I acted to maximise my own points. If you truly wished to repay me, you should have done the same. We both would have gotten more points if you had lived.”
The confidence of his smile grows overwhelming. “We’ll get even more if we both do, but at least you’re consistent. Come on, I’ll carry you.”
I sigh, outstretching my hand then retracting it with a shake of my head. “Wait… how many squires and mages did you say your group killed?”
“Oh, um, four in the fight, plus the one you killed, two mages, plus a bunch of pages and mundanes and the squire who almost killed you. Why?”
I exhale in exasperation, finally feeling forced to smile in begrudging gratitude, much to his annoying delight. “So, you killed five squires in total and two mages. I killed… seven squires and…” it hurts to think, but I force the chaotic memories through as I ignore the dumb surprise on his face, “four mages. Meaning only two squires and eight mages remain unless Adrian’s group got lucky… Load this.” I hand him the heavy crossbow.
“We should get moving, we don’t have much time.” He protests.
I shake my head. “They’re too many mages still for us to break through. But they won’t leave their positions to hunt us, and you can handle any squires. So, we’ll use up my heavy ammo to pick off as many as we can, then we break through. It’ll also be easier if I heal myself while you winch.”
His hand goes for my weapon but stops with a mischievous smile. “Are you admitting I made the right choice in coming back for you then?”
I scowl, but nod. “Fine, yes, just load it already.”
He happily complies while I heal myself. We change locations after shooting the first one, probably unnecessarily given the remaining opposition’s aim. Ser Terrance… Terry easily cuts down any mundanes or pages we happen to come across. No more squires though. They seem to be hanging back to intercept our escape as we run out of time.
It’s harder to find the mages after the second one, since if the rest have explosion magic, they aren’t using it. But I manage to find them with effort and a little creativity in criteria. After shooting the last heavy bolt we finally move to the finish line. Waiting for us is a squire in magic full plate with several mundanes and what seem to be pages.
“Aw,” Ser Terry shrugs, “well, I guess their remaining mages must have been focusing their divinations on our exit. Sound I suppose since they knew you were focusing on their locations and not hiding. We don’t have time, so I’ll distract them while you go around. The full plate will be hard to beat, but I should be able to get some of the others.”
I ignore his babbling in favour of casting guidance on the squire and shooting them in the head with the light crossbow. Ser Terry stares at me confused as they drop. Sigh. “I have iron phasing bolts,” I explain as if it should be obvious, which it really should be. “…What are you waiting for? Go get them.”
He smiles before charging the panicking mass of mundanes and barely magical pages. I don’t bother to watch him finish them off as I limp past the finish line – the boundary light warmly welcoming me for once, rather than forbidding. I smile as my pain ends, not remembering the last time I felt such unmitigated sense of victory.
I can’t help but laugh. The empire got the test wrong – this wasn’t like Caethlon at all.