image [https://i.imgur.com/yTc239B.jpg]
At the hole’s bottom, I found skid marks from whoever dragged the drax bodies to the surface. It made a highly visible trail. Scores of fresh footprints accompanying the drag marks compelled me to follow. Perhaps more of the ones who dubbed themselves “The Deathless.”
The tunnels sloped downward and passed by doorways on either side. Openings in the ceiling revealed rooms above the hallway as well. I stood up straight and peered into the room above. Odors from ragged bedding dissuaded me from further inspection, but the ceiling’s opening and the lack of staple rungs taught me something I’d never known about goblins—they jumped. It looked as if they comfortably cleared at least a 6-foot vertical leap.
I stretched my back when I passed another ceiling opening.
Going so deep into the maze would have made me more nervous if it weren’t for the skid marks. I followed the freshest footprints when the gouges split at an intersection. They’d killed at least a dozen hatchlings, so it made sense the fights occurred in multiple locations.
I followed the footprints until the sounds of combat ahead caught my attention. I ended Presence and pulled out a glow stone but acted too slowly. The light from my spell had given me away.
After weeks of studying the goblin language, understanding their angry cries hadn’t come as a surprise. “Who makes that light?” “Go see who follows!”
I’d unwrapped the Dark Room rope around me and backtracked to the nearest opening in the ceiling. After tossing the rope upwards, I climbed into the Dark Room.
I scanned the room above the corridor as I climbed the rope and spotted half a dozen depressions filled with bedding. Sticks and rocks littered the area. It looked like an unremarkable sleeping chamber.
Entering the transdimensional space plunged the room below into pitch black. I’d forgotten that the light and sound acted like a one-way street. The glow stone in my hand didn’t light the room beneath me. Making an executive decision, I tossed it into the room’s corner, bathing the space in soft light.
I pulled up the rope moments before hearing shuffling below. I crouched on the Dark Room floor and listened.
Four goblins ran through the corridor below the room. They doubled back and jumped into the room, following my scent and light source. Each nameplate bore the title “Deathless,” whose levels ranged in the mid-teens.
One goblin picked up the glow stone and smelled it while shielding his eyes. Its radiance compared to a candle. I expected them to fight over it, like the gold coin, but the goblin tossed it against the wall as if trying to break it. It cursed as the stone rolled to a stop—showing no worse for wear.
“Human is here.”
“Tell chief.”
“No. You tell chief!”
The quartet searched the room, looking for me—upending rags, skins, and pieces of bark. One batted a small sack of pebbles across the room as if I might have hidden underneath it.
“Human is not here.”
“I smell human!”
The foursome argued over one another’s merits for being the news bearer and squabbled over the paradox of smelling but not seeing me. I understood almost every word and recognized their dialect—they spoke Bonepit, not Shoughmeat.
Greenie came from the Bonepit tribe—and so did his brother, King Rezan. An uneasy suspicion crept through the recesses of my mind. If the Bonepit tribe came into the area, Rezan might be close to the relic. Were these Deathless the royal servants or an entourage? It seemed strange that Greenie hadn’t mentioned them. He and I concentrated on studying their language and culture since they stood the highest chance of searching for the relic.
About ten minutes after the goblins appeared, harsh barks of rebuke echoed down the hallway. A husky level 15 goblin named General Sturm stopped beneath the room’s opening. I translated his dialect into broken phrases. “What is problem? Is human here or not?”
The four scouts lowered their heads and explained how I disappeared, leaving behind a glow stone, which the general repeated to someone in the hall. General Sturm stepped aside to make way for a tall level 16 goblin whose nameplate confirmed my worst fears.
King Rezan stood a foot taller than his brethren, wearing a gown whose bulk, formality, and opulence would have made King Louis XIV envious. The garment’s precise tailoring belied its goblin origin. It offered a little armor, +4 stamina, +20 percent influence range, and extended spell ranges by 10 percent. It belonged inside a temple or palace, not a filthy tunnel. How could he even walk without tripping over himself?
Rezan bore a striking resemblance to Hawkhurst’s interim governor, looking like Greenie’s evil twin. They weren’t as ugly or unkept as their constituents, almost handsome in a gobliny fashion. He looked upward into the room, squinting through luminous yellow eyes. A magic crown completed the ensemble.
Item
Cursed Band of Light Ascendence
Rarity
Purple (celestial)
Description
Level 120 head item
+24 intelligence
+8 stamina
+16 willpower
This relic contains the Sacralith, an opal binding its owner into a permanent mind-pact with Archdemon Enoch the Eternal.
Item use—Grants levitation. The wearer may alter values in their light spells by a factor of 10.
Aside from which school of magic it empowered, the relic resembled the crown we’d fought to keep out of Winterbyte’s hands. All experimentation showed I couldn’t target spells like Magnetize and Move Object on equipped items. Compression Sphere tests showed knocking things off people’s heads to be possible, but in such a confined area, I wasn’t sure he’d fly very far.
I needed to leave the Dark Room to cast a spell, and I couldn’t channel with an honor guard attacking me. I couldn’t grab it without Archdemon Enoch moving into my head like a homeless friend inviting themselves onto my couch.
It wasn’t clear how long ago Rezan found the crown, but I couldn’t know if leaving Hawkhurst earlier would have made a difference. Had my procrastination and preparation cost me my first solo mission? Instead of beating myself up, I eavesdropped on the scene below. I needed as much intel as possible with a relic bearer in play.
Rezan moved oddly when he approached the opening, almost gliding. The glow from his eyes revealed dangling feet, explaining his tall stature. Rezan hovered in place while he spoke to the general.
Instead of floating upwards, the goblins lifted Rezan into the room as if the king’s airborne mobility didn’t include verticality. Once inside, he levitated inches above the floor. He searched every corner with his squinting, lightbulb eyes. Shadows shifted as he moved and turned his gaze.
Rezan murmured, almost to himself, as he assessed the chamber. “A stone glows, Master, and yet we and we see no human.”
The goblin king spoke to himself like Winterbyte had when she first placed the relic on her head. He used first-person plural twice—a strange way to refer to the demon in his head. He still related to the other goblins, so it seemed he harbored independent thoughts and memories. Yet it stood unclear how much agency the king possessed.
Sturm bowed as he spoke. “Do you believe it is the same human from yesterday, Your Majesty?”
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The King ignored his general’s question, pausing as if listening to something else. “Yes, Master. Kesir wakes to warn us.”
I grunted at the mention of Kesir—the goblin name for Iremont. News of my infiltration reached the king’s ears—either that or my smoke signals reached his eyes.
Eliminating Hawkhurst’s most dangerous neighbor needed a little luck. Rezan wasn’t on a campaign trail—he came here to hunt monsters. Counting Rezan and his honor guards as enemies made the hatchlings my allies. The thought amused me. I’d strike after they pulled a monster’s aggro. They’d be vulnerable to a rear attack where Rezan would stand.
After Rezan floated down the corridor, the goblins followed, leaving the glow stone behind. Poking my head through the Dark Room’s opening, I used Slipstream’s interface to see if any goblins lingered behind. They did not. The eerie yellow glow of Rezan’s eyes dimmed at his disappearance.
Seeing the relic’s true name gave me the crucial piece of intel I needed to create a rune to destroy it. I dropped out of the Dark Room into the abandoned chamber when I felt sure the goblins had left. After pulling out a parchment with prepared runes, I cast Inscribe Rune and penned the destruction target—The Cursed Band of Light Ascendence. Luckily, I hadn’t lost intelligence points in Iremont, so the mana potion I possessed gave me enough to finish the job.
If I somehow knocked the crown from his head, I would need to trigger the rune as fast as possible. It wouldn’t do me any good if another goblin picked it up before I destroyed it. With a relic bearer out of the picture, I felt confident I could mop up his honor guard.
After packing away the Dark Room, I followed them on hands and knees. In nearly pitch-black conditions, even the faintest flicker of light carried, and Rezan’s glowing eyes provided ample ambient light, even from around corners. After having infravision for so long, I hated the idea of spending a power point on Arcane Sight to see in the dark.
Using ambient reflections of the king’s yellow light, I followed the glow for ten minutes through winding crawlspaces until the crash of lightning and shouting rang ahead of me. The hunters had found another drax hatchling.
I tucked the Dark Room rope into my inventory. While I wanted it handy, I didn’t want to lose it in the heat of battle. If sandwiching the relic bearer between a monster and my fist weapons would not work, I had movement tricks like Hot Air and Slipstream to escape. Rezan may be the best healer in town, but it would do him no good in a chase.
The closer I crawled toward the noise, the more I could see. Some of the goblins’ words and phrases made no sense, but what I understood involved positioning and attack orders. Though Rezan specialized in court intrigue, he surrounded himself with capable warriors.
When I rounded a corner, yellow luminosity from Rezan’s direct gaze lit the scene. The folds of his gown didn’t quite touch the floor as he floated off the ground. “All the better to backstab you, my dear.”
Nearly two dozen Deathless goblins faced a beast doing more damage than the entire honor guard. They fought with nothing fancier than +1 or +2 weapons, and the lizard’s propensity for swallowing enemies hinted at how they killed such formidable monsters. They wore spiked armor to kill the monster with indigestion, sustaining a casualty rate of one goblin per hatchling.
But the lizard they found wasn’t foolish enough to take the bait. The drax had 90 percent of its health with stats similar to the one I defeated.
With their backs to me, I saw no reason not to use the Lance of Commitment. I had planned to use Blood Drinker, ramping up its bonuses on goblins before finding Rezan, but the possibility of losing him in these tunnels looked too great a risk.
It seemed like a fair assumption the goblins could detect small amounts of light, so I didn’t buff my attack with Imbue Weapon. A pale blue illumination would immediately tip them off.
I checked out Rezan’s stats to be sure I could kill him.
Name
Ascended Rezan, Bonepit King
Level
16
Difficulty
Dangerous (orange)
Health
370/370
Aside from the relic, the orange difficulty rating came from Rezan’s link to his royal guards. His high health came from the stamina bonuses of the relic and the ten rings around his fingers. The king’s levitation also seemed limited. He bobbed over the ground, maintaining a constant distance from the surface. That drawback seemed crucial. If he could fly, escape would be easy.
I counted a royal escort of only 20 goblins engaged with about 1500 pounds of a gnashing, lashing, lightning-flashing alpha predator. With so many goblins on the surface, a non-gamer might wonder why so few guarded the king.
They were power-leveling. The sentient monsters min-maxed their experience gains by fighting in reduced numbers. Rezan showed himself to have all the cunning of his brother.
After 20 steps, the lance should deliver close to 200 points of damage—if I critted, a quick switch to my Divine Bow and a healthy dose of Thrust arrows should mop up the king’s retinue, for the goblins still had a drax hatchling to entertain. I might even top off the encounter by adding another lizard to my kill count, for it would be wounded by the time I finished off the Deathless. Before sundown, I could snatch another purple core and be on my merry way.
Of course, I wasn’t so foolhardy as to expect any of this to go as planned.
Rejuvenate healed every second for 10 seconds. Rezan’s Rejuvenates cranked out 50 health per tick, and he could also extend the duration to 100 seconds for 5,000 health. I expected ridiculous numbers from this confounded relic and wasn’t disappointed. I hadn’t counted on ten Rejuvenates at once. The combat log’s worrying messages showed the relic much worse than I guessed.
/Ascended Rezan casts Rejuvenate on Deathless Brute for 50 health.
/Ascended Rezan casts Rejuvenate on Deathless Javelineer for 50 health.
/Ascended Rezan casts Rejuvenate on Deathless Honor Guard for 50 health.
The 50 health wasn’t the sum of his Rejuvenate’s healing—it counted for just a single tick. With 10 Rejuvenates spread among his warriors, it meant Rezan had no instant-heals available for himself. Since the Lance of Commitment gave a +10 damage bonus for every step I took when attacking, I estimated I only needed to be 20 yards away to kill him. Estimating distances to small targets wasn’t easy, for they looked further away. Too often, diminutive monsters aggroed players who thought they stood at a safe distance. I didn’t want to make that mistake at such a crucial moment.
With his back to me, I began my attack as quietly as possible.
Halfway through my Charge, an eyeball appeared out of thin air. Nine more winked into existence in a rough semi-circle around Rezan’s flank.
Name
Ascended Rezan Waking Eye (41)
Level
1
Difficulty
Trivial (gray)
Health
1/1
Rezan turned to face me while dodging to the side. He wasn’t fast enough to avoid the attack, though he moved as if he knew my intent. The lance impaled him for 192 damage. My attack didn’t critically hit.
I let the lance go and equipped my short sword while letting fly the only spell that might foil his chances to heal himself—Moonburn.
Enemies facing away from me and bunched in a narrow hallway created ideal conditions for channeling a cone of damage. At a 25 rank in nature magic, I could sustain a 6-second Stunning attack for 120 damage before an arrow struck me, ending the effect early.
The spray of damage caught four more goblins, more than halving their health pool. Moonburn channeled glorious results, bringing Rezan to only 22 points of life and Stunning them all.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t finish Moonburn. It seemed the Deathless caught behind the drax figured out how to attack me. Launching arrows caused only minor damage, but they interrupted my concentration.
Stunned combatants could still consume health potions from their inventory. After the king drank a 100-point healing potion.
I hit Rezan with my only damage-dealing instant–Arcane Missile. Because my arcane magic rank reached 25, the spell unerringly inflicted 48 damage.
Rezan’s health dropped to 72 points.
The damage was close enough to convince me to use my robe to reset its cooldown and hit him again while I followed up with my next melee attack. The second missile hit for the same damage, bringing him down to 24 health.
As a fellow healer, I knew his next spell—Restore. Since the normal casting time for Restore lasted 6 seconds, he could nuke-heal him back full in less than half a second—faster than I could land an attack, so I hammered him with Counterspell in the nick of time.
Rezan’s snarl encouraged me as I equipped the first weapon I saw in my inventory, Tardee’s short sword I’d used against the lizard.
I only needed to inflict 24 more damage to tip the scales in my favor. Without the king’s healing, I held the upper hand. While other goblins might lunge for the relic, I could fend them off, especially in these narrow tunnels.
Before my blade landed, Rezan cast a second Restore.
It seemed impossible! I froze time and puzzled out the mystery. Casters afflicted by a Counterspell must wait until their cooldown transpired before casting again. Despite doing all the math and preparation, I’d forgotten the relic’s bearing. One-tenth of Restore’s cooldown lasted only 3 seconds.
/Ascended Rezan casts Restore on himself for 368 health (+132 overheal).
/You hit Ascended Rezan for 35 damage (4 resisted).
His nameplate health bar read 455/370. The king somehow gained a temporary Overheal surplus of 77 health, which ticked down to his normal health pool by 1 health for every passing second.
Was Overheal a power I hadn’t seen before? Giving yourself health by Overhealing didn’t seem fair.
Even after unloading my arsenal, the relic’s powers overpowered me. Rezan proved unkillable, and now he knew my plan of attack. Even if I ambushed him again, he’d be more prepared.
Seconds after my gambit, Rezan topped off his warriors’ health bars to full. As he did so, he glided across the ground, behind the safety of his entourage, glaring at me over the intrusion.
I directed Dig at the sides of the tunnel to create a hazard between us. The spell destabilized the passage, causing a partial cave-in. It made a minor obstacle for such adept diggers, and the porous tunnel system meant their detour route wouldn’t be long, but it bought me a little extra time.
The lightning lizard wouldn’t survive long.
I fled for my life.