image [https://i.imgur.com/yE9QKaC.jpg]
My mind played scenarios of the many ways I could put this decrepit creature to use. I spoke outloud, working through my options. “I planned to let you go once we left the trenches, but I wonder if you’d hold it against me if I kept you around a bit longer—at least until I reach Fab.”
Deliverance from Bircht and Duchess might not be easy, and a health sponge might prove crucial, especially if she could cast her spells. Controlling this creature still didn’t sit right with me, but I needed to adjust my mindset if I were going to get anywhere in this contest. I summoned Beaker, amused to think that I’d figured out how to have two familiars at once.
My griffon appeared in a puff of green smoke. He’d been elsewhere in the forest, hiding from the roc, but recasting Familiar summoned him to my side. His reaction to the mummy would have been comical if I hadn’t felt so guilty for using her.
Beaker cocked his head, looked at me, then returned his focus to the bent but immobile bugbear. He clucked nervously and studied her. “Not dead?”
I figured the sound of my voice might set him at ease. “She’s just going to stay with us for a while. I need an escort from her territory. You don’t need to be around her, but try to stay nearby, okay? We might need your keen eyes in case other players appear.”
Beaker fluffed his feathers to make him look bigger—a nervous reaction. With his head canted sideways, he sent telepathic questions. “Not dead?”
“Oh, come on, pal. Don’t do this to me.” His confusion made me feel guilty. To my pet, it must have looked like I was toying with something instead of putting it out of its misery.
Instead of flying away, the griffon stared at her, then back at me.
I crossed my arms and regarded the walking corpse. This crone wasn’t a real witch—not in the world boss sense that the soldiers from Fort Krek spoke of, but she obviously used witchcraft. But did that give me the moral high ground to use her further?
Beaker’s tentative clucks made me give in with a laugh. “Oh, for crying out loud.” I turned to the mummy. “Fine. Go back to your home—you’ll slow us down anyway. Once you’re with your people, unwrap the bandages so they can lay you to rest—assuming they hold respect for you.”
The mummy turned toward the meadow without further acknowledging and walked into the trench.
My shoulders eased as I watched her level. How many times would I play a sap to this world’s realism? Why did giving away advantages feel like the right thing to do? Things would have been so much simpler if I didn’t care about anything. I could have gone with Fabulosa to Ul Itor and forgotten about the relics. And leaving them might have been the best thing to do—for Rezan, the emperor, and the anomalocaris were no pushovers. They might have killed some of the other players.
Did I believe that? No. Uproar wasn’t hanging around for the company. Players gave themselves goals.
The game could have been much simpler if I’d taken the relics—but I shuddered to think what I might have done while giving Crimson the villain for their reality show.
Beaker smoothed his feathers after the mummy left.
“I hope you’re satisfied. I’ll need a good scout. Make yourself useful, for once, and let me know if you see other people in the forest. If we make good progress, we’ll see Fabulosa in a day or two.”
Beaker’s eyes dilated at the mention of Fabulosa, and he echoed his excitement in my mind. “Fabulosa is here! Fabulosa is here!” Without further prompting, the griffon launched himself, pumping his wings. He stayed below the treeline in a desperate search for Fabulosa.
The roc was still close, and my pet would have a better vision of enemy players. I hoped my instructions weren’t too specific, for I didn’t know if Bircht or Duchess were human, dwarf, or elf—or whatever form they might have assumed during their time in Miros.
My proximity to Bircht and Duchess caused our dots to overlap. One dot listed our names on the contest map. I couldn’t tell if they walked ahead of me or behind, still or moving, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out.
But that gray area worked both ways. My enemies had the same problem. They might look for me in the meadow or forest this very minute. I hoped they combed the meadow, lost in a maze of bugbears. Regardless, it only made sense to push forward to Fabulosa. If I separated enough for the map to show it, then all the better.
I traveled north throughout the day. Bircht and Duchess never separated from my dot on the contest map, so I assumed we all moved in the same direction—toward Fabulosa. From my best guess, anyone in a five-mile radius shared a location on the contest map. Beaker flew from tree to tree, scouting ahead, but he never saw them.
The forest opened as the soil hardened. Soon, only building-sized rocks blocked my vision. The vista of the Orga Valley spanned beneath me. Hills blocked my view of the river and gulleys feeding the Orga’s headwaters.
I spammed Detect Magic as I hiked, but I didn’t see a single Improved Eye. And Beaker never swung by looking for rewards of ram meat, so he hadn’t spotted or popped one.
I traveled beyond orcs, goblins, and bugbears. The horizon blurred into mist, making it impossible to discern land and sky, coast and ocean. Arweald lay far beyond my vision, east of the Doublespines and above them the Ragged Hills. Ahead, only the wonders of Blyeheath awaited.
Mr. Fergus mentioned he’d been there on digs, but I never inquired about them. Charitybelle and I read about them, but most accounts were impersonal, and his advice might have helped. It served me right for being uninquisitive.
While mysteries of the north enticed my imagination, my concerns were immediate. At this rugged altitude, trees were sparse, but boulders blocked visibility at ground level. It seemed perfect terrain for an ambush. My Eagle Eyes spotted nothing but dinosaurs and stray bugbears.
The valley view was almost as impressive as the western slopes of Grenspur. Rounding one of the twin mountains gave me an unobstructed vista of the continent’s largest mountain. It blocked the entire horizon, and I needed to crane skyward to see its zenith, whose color matched the sky. Its shadow blocked direct sunlight after midday.
Without terrestrial clues to anyone’s whereabouts, I turned to the group chat for hints.
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Flagboi Does anyone know what Darkstep and Apache are working on?
Audigger Apparently, Apache is the only one on Dark’s friends list.
Flagboi They’re probably secret allies. If I were Fab, I’d worry about that. I bet that’s why he started a settlement in the middle of nowhere—to communicate through mail.
Audigger There are pros and cons to leaving civilization. I went all the way to Workman’s Weep before turning back.
Bircht Where is that?
Audigger It’s down here in the swamps. It’s a harvesting colony named after the waterfall and mills along the river.
Bircht That sounds nice.
Audigger It wasn’t. It’s been flooded and overrun with undead for decades. A witch moved into the southern fen. They killed her long ago, but her influence endures.
Bircht Witches are no joke.
Flagboi I heard that. Dark magic is so much better than the other branches.
Audigger That’s why I’m surprised anyone would leave civilization. Even if you don’t need bodies for going full-necro, NPCs are easy to manipulate. That’s why I left the swamps.
Bircht It’s a bit boring having unbalanced magic trees. The battles will all be the same spells if everyone uses the same spells.
Audigger That’s why it’ll come down to NPCs—which of us can control the most—or the most powerful.
Flagboi That and magic items.
Bircht There are magic items in this game? I had no idea.
Audigger Hah! Right.
Flagboi I don’t believe Bircht for a second. A little bird told me you throw down illusions while suffocating your opponents with a vacuum. Environmental mechanics like that are nature, not void magic. No one this late in the contest is going deep green. Ergo, you have a magic item.
Duchess You keep talking, Flag. I’ll tell everyone about your experiments. The only thing worse than going necro is working on living creatures.
Toadkiller This is good dirt. What other game mechanics should I expect to face?
Toadkiller’s jest ended the conversation on an ominous note. He wasn’t wrong about contestants spilling each other’s secrets. It seemed we all shared the impulse to brag or reach out, and ultimately, whatever we whispered in confidence got leaked. In this respect, Hawkhurst’s isolation had benefited me.
Hearing how dreadful they were to NPCs made me feel stupid for feeling sorry about commanding a dead shaman. Lording over NPCs wasn’t sporting since the game gave players more power points, and it said more about the players than the game.
My estimation of players wasn’t far off—we were a plague on Miros. What was the point of mistreating NPCs? It’s not like we were on an even playing field with the locals.
And what was Flagboi doing that was worse than going necro? How deep were they in dark magic that they all used the same spells?
Reading it made me glad to have a high willpower. Resisting illusions and mind control spells might give me the leg up I needed to position myself high in the contest. I’d resisted nearly everything the crone threw at me.
The subtext beneath their disregard for NPCs hinted that Duchess and Flagboi had communicated, perhaps, through mail. She was chatty and obviously knew how Bircht played. Had she told Flagboi about Bircht’s suffocation kills—or had that been Uproar or another blabbermouth?
Asphyxiation acted as an outlier mechanic, and someone as bright as Bircht might have figured that out. Drowning or suffocating creatures bypassed armor, stats, and health. The progress bar from choking on smoke wasn’t a long one, perhaps a couple of minutes. Vacuums were dangerous, and none of my powers addressed the danger.
Name
Apache, elder of Forren
Level
30 (6,629/6,810 experience to next level)
Armor
96
Stamina
40 (400 health)
Intelligence
47 (470 mana)
Strength
28 (+28 damage to physical attacks)
Agility
34 (+34% to hit/dodge physical attacks and movement)
Willpower
71 (+71% to spell effects/resistances, health/mana recovery, and influence)
Skills and ranks
Alchemy 14, Arcane Magic 27, Blacksmithing 6, Bludgeoning Weapons 27, Carpentry 12, Command 2, Dark Magic 2, Defense 27, Dodge 28, Equestrian 14, Goblin 11, Governing 16, Leatherworking 12, Light Magic 24, Manuscript Creation 14, Nature Magic 28, Piercing Weapons 29, Primal Magic 25, Ranged Weapons 26, Research 31, Sailing 11, Slashing Weapons 27, Stealth 7, Survival 24, Tailoring 13
Powers
Cantrips Animal Empathy, Detect Magic, Heavenly Favor, Minor Hex, Shocking Reach
Tier 1 Aggression, Animal Communion, Anticipate, Applied Knowledge, Charge, Compression Sphere, Detect Stealth, Hot Air, Imbue Weapon, Mana Shield, Mineral Empathy, Moonburn, Protector, Read Magic, Rest and Mend, Scorch, Thrust, Whirl
Tier 2 Amphibious, Avoid Ammo, Counterspell, Familiar, Inscribe Rune, Mineral Communion, Refresh Mana, Rejuvenate, Slipstream, Transpose
Tier 3 Dig, Magnetize, Restore
Tier 4 Earthquake, Mineral Mutation, Move Object
Note—Stats include buff and gear bonuses
Slipstream was easily one of my most powerful escape and attack mechanics, but it wouldn’t work in a vacuum. Without air, Compression Spheres fell short. Even though Hot Air was a blessing, and not a spell, I doubt it would work in a vacuum.
I’d learned from previous gaming experience about the versatility of displacement powers. Transpose would work, making me glad that I’d invested in redundant escape mechanics.
I studied my character sheet. Overall, the power inflation slowed down around level 30. Stat gains weren’t as crucial as unlocking spells, but I saw no dinosaurs or enemies in this high country that might yield experience.
I’d lost four months fighting the anomalocaris, but discovering Applied Knowledge reassured me I had the highest combat skills across the board. A dedicated archer might have reached the high twenties or thirties, but it seemed improbable that anyone in The Great RPG Contest was as well-rounded.
What levels had Bircht and Duchess reached? I couldn’t guess. Without high skill ranks, they might have wasted power points on low-level stuff instead of end-of-the-line ultimates like Mineral Mutation and Earthquake. And with Gladius Cognitus, I could channel while fighting and casting other spells. With Fabulosa by my side, I felt confident about my chances.
If I could lure my enemies into a foreign settlement, Aggression’s double damage kicked in—another reason to avoid Bircht and Duchess in the wilderness.
I held my interface map open while I traveled, and it made me wonder what awaited in Oxum. Darkstep had said nothing since Uproar and the emperor died. Mail arrived at every settlement, so it seemed a little strange that he wanted me in a specific place. Perhaps he’d buried something valuable nearby. I’d need to proceed carefully and watch out for traps and ambushes.
Beaker soared once more in the skies, serving as my vanguard. Having rounded to the eastern foothills of Grenspur, we’d left the roc’s domain. Without trees in the way, I hoped he might spot them, but my Familiar answered none of my telepathic inquiries with actionable intel.
Grenspur’s foothills were rugged terrain. We had more mountains ahead of us, though the omnipresent mist enshrouded their details.
Happily, Fabulosa made steady progress. She’d inched across the contest map with no delays. Perhaps we’d meet tomorrow if things went well. All the while, I scanned for signs of the two opponents sharing my position.
I ate a late meal of precooked leftovers before bedtime. Without a fire, camping involved minimal effort. No one would know I’d been here. As I ate, I telepathically gave my pet the good news. “That’s enough hiking for today, pal. We’ll catch up with Fabulosa tomorrow. She’s somewhere in the mountains ahead of us.”
“Fabulosa is here!” My griffon rejoiced at the prospect of reuniting with his favorite dinnertime companion. He playfully swooped around me as I tossed up the Dark Room rope.
Little did we know, he’d never play with her again.