Splitting my attention two different ways was going to be difficult. I had little choice if I wanted to give our team the best chance for success with the approaching conflict. Each team member needed to know what their roles were when this came to blows, otherwise, it could divulge into a chaotic scrum. Since the dwarves were higher leveled, not to mention having an elite boss in their midst, I couldn’t allow that to happen.
“I come from the Human capital city of Allerton. The city above the silvern mine, known as Mammoth, is aware of your intent to lay siege to its people,” I lied, trying to instill confidence into my words. Perhaps I could strengthen our position and eliminate the need for a fight with the dwarves entirely. Best to lay it on thick. “Your entire contingency of crafted ballistae has been destroyed, and the cache of explosives has been removed. Reinforcements from the capital city have reached Mammoth, along with an array of wizards and clerics. I am here to see if we can come to an arrangement to halt any further hostilities between our two peoples.”
Thankfully, I was quite familiar with splitting my concentration, courtesy of my dual casting skill, so while I bluffed my way with the dwarves, I surreptitiously sent a message to Stella via our chat interface. Without long practice with the skill, I doubted I would have been able to accomplish it.
Xaz: Stella, when they engage, I want Ripley to go after the battlelord alone. The undeath priest will need to assist her with heals and buffs since he’s an elite boss. Tallos and Lowki are to attack their healer. I will be taking the mage out of the fight, at least temporarily.
Stella: Got it. I’ll need at least a minute or two to tell the others and not arouse suspicion.
The centermost dwarven did not immediately respond to my words. It was as if he was taking a moment to judge the voracity of my statement. If I were in his position, I would be worried the surprise attack would not go as easily as initially envisioned. Instead of finding a defenseless and unaware city, I had painted a picture of an entrenched enemy aware a battle was coming. The difference between the two should be more than unsettling for the dwarven commander.
“What did you do to my fifty warriors in the great Fungal Forest?” Buram asked.
The dwarf’s exaggerated number meant that he was subtly trying to catch me in a lie. “There were sixteen dwarves in the cavern ripe with giant mushrooms,” I replied without bravado. Wanting to stretch this dialog out to buy Stella enough time to connect with everyone, I was determined to keep our discussion cordial. Boasting about slaying his soldiers wouldn’t help right now. “Two were warriors and fought valiantly. The rest was a mix of engineers, smiths, and explosive experts. Of the fifty total warriors you speak of, our count was forty-six if you count everyone nearby the great forest.”
The dwarven leader took the news better than I would have suspected, showing no emotion across his bearded face. Unless I missed my guess, Buram appeared to not be bothered at the loss of so many dwarves. The thought worried me. Was it the callousness of their antagonistic race, the indifference of a general leading an army and expecting casualties, or was this something else? Either way, my gut told me it did not bode well for us or the city above.
Stella continued her nonchalant jaunt around our team, seemingly twisting around our people as if she were a stray puppy. Even with my keen senses, I barely detected her voice as she whispered instructions to our team. The three dwarves were focused on me, not giving the Accelerator a second of their attention. I felt a small amount of comfort from that. We would be prepared if and when this turned deadly.
“You must be a skilled Hunter to have accomplished such a feat,” the brawny dwarf flatly stated. “Silvern Dwarves do not fall easily. I’ve never met one of your kind, personally. I hear most of your kind are not worth their weight in the frailest ores, whereas others have demonstrated strength of arms to rival even the strongest among our race. Which are you I wonder?”
Stella: We’re all set. When this goes sideways, everyone knows what to do.
Xaz: Thanks, Stell.
Unless I missed my guess, only confidence in myself and my team would be of use here. The slightest show of weakness would cause the dwarves to pouch on us like a wounded animal. Their race respected strength above all else. “I stand before you, prepared for whatever is to come. Your people are strong. As are we. Let that be an answer to your question.”
“Hmm,” the battlelord said as he considered us, seeming unperturbed. “You are here to tell us the human city has been reinforced, that you have removed our ability to lay siege upon a prepared city. Such would imply our raid would cost my kind greatly, yes?” Buram asked pointedly. “Soldiers are lost in war, this is a fact I have long known. I see no reason to not proceed. More of my warriors will be lost, this is true, but such is their lot in life. More can be bred.”
His response was not what I was hoping it would be. From the two sidelong glances from his compatriots, Buram’s admission had been a surprise to them as well. He could be bluffing, the same as I, however. The thought of attempting to sew strife and derision between the leader and his subordinates flittered in my mind but was quickly squashed. I doubted such an attempt would get anywhere, even if the battlelord considered his soldiers expendable.
If their commander was still considering a raid, perhaps it was time to bluff once more. What if they no longer had an easy route to take to partake in such an offensive? It was time for another bluff. “Mammoth has already removed the silvern node connecting this tunnel system and the city’s mine. There is no longer an easy method of transporting your raiding force across that great distance. Even if you press on, you will find more than an entrenched city by the time you arrive.”
“Is that so?” Buram asked with a slight tilt of his head. His question seemed rhetorical so I didn’t respond. The dwarf paused a moment to consider his next words, his stare never leaving me. “I have three questions for you, then. First, with the node destroyed, how do you expect to return? Second, do you believe that a single node is the only avenue we plan to utilize against the human city? And, finally, why should I let you live with the affront you have shown to one of my kind?”
The dwarf’s tone grew more serious as he spoke as if he were a pot ready to boil. His two allies caught the same implication. They narrowed their eyes, ready to lash out at a single word from their commander.
“We never intended to return,” I replied casually. Hoping my unperturbed appearance would hide my deliberate lies, I pressed on. “We knew this long before we arrived. Our path leads us beyond and, worry not, we have a means to return to the surface at our leisure. To answer your second question; it does not matter. Mammoth is prepared. Bolstered by a legion from Allerton, they will be able to withstand any assault. To answer your third question, I am a Hunter.” A fight seemed inevitable, so I had one more trick to pull before the battle began.
“You are concerned over this shell behind me,” I said as I thumbed behind me. “To me, it is nothing more than a tool to be used in my conquest. Those Hunters you stated earlier, the ones capable of matching strength of arms? I am that type of Hunter. Let me demonstrate a portion of that to you now.”
At my pronouncement, I turned to my dwarf minion. “Priest, bless my party with your divine power.”
The undead dwarf’s hands began weaving in complex patterns, jarring arcane words passing through his blue lips. The enemy priest began to stride forward, affronted by my insolence. Buram reached out a hand before he took more than a step, however, before swiftly shaking his head. The priest obeyed, though was obviously discontented.
Gold light shone out from my minion, passing through everyone on our side of the room like a halo. Power surged in my body. I felt energized and stronger than ever as my eyes flicked up to the new buff icon. It had a five minute duration. We were ready. The time for civil conversation was over.
“Impress…” Buram stated but was rudely interrupted by a shout.
“Now!” I yelled, calling my party into action. While the enemy forces were no novices, we still responded quicker than they did.
A line of arrows immediately tore away towards the astonished priest, Tallos putting his new bow to quick use. Lowki moved slightly to the side, ensuring his positioning didn’t interfere with the streaking arrows. Using every muscle in his body, Lowki leaped forward. As the first missile approached the dwarf, a barrier of gold light flared to life. The magical barrier intercepted some, but not all of Tallos’ arrows. Marharen, the priest of Gias, grunted as several found unprotected flesh. Lowki landed lightly beside the staggered priest, twin tentacles already trying to find similar purchase with his poison quills.
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Ripley had closed the distance to the elite boss with blinding speed, her enhanced strength and dexterity on full display. Her curved blade crashed downward toward the warrior. In response, Buram rose a plated forearm, intercepting the attack. All the while, the dwarf attempted to retrieve his large maul from across his back. Ripley followed up with a shield, slamming it into the battlelord’s face. Staggered from the assault, the large dwarf shook his head to dislodge lingering cobwebs. Ripley brought her curved sword back around, this time at a low angle. However, it was her turn to be surprised as the mighty dwarf planted his feet and bull-rushed forward.
Colliding with her ribs, the boss threw the towering Ripley back several feet. Her attack glancing harmlessly off the back of the armored boss. With strength higher than Ripley’s, the dwarf’s move allowed enough separation for the boss to retrieve his massive weapon. Another glow of beneficiary magic from our undead healer rained on the skeletal minion as she dashed back in, her sword swinging in a blinding attack pattern.
For my part, I was deep into spell casting the moment my call let my lips. The wizard likely had powerful protections, so I would need to defeat those as much as I could. Thankfully, I had a spell perfect for such a necessity, scent of darkness. Unfortunately, the spell had a longer than usual cast time of three seconds. Moments after I began, the wizard followed suit, words of a spell calling forth a magical effect.
My fingers worked through the long and laborious motion of my spell. I chose to dual casting the spell to increase the odds it would get through whatever protection the mage had. The slow cast time ground against my sensibilities, but there was nothing to be done about it. The wizard, Arantrud, completed his spell first.
A blaze of fire streaked across the room, heading for my seemingly unprotected body. As it sped towards me, I leaned forward and braced my legs. From what I could tell, the wizard’s spell was akin to a fireball. The ball of flame detonated as the hostile spell connected against my empowered aegis.
When the massive steel doors swung open, I had been very mindful of checking my interface to ensure the area’s ‘critical failure’ hadn’t triggered. Losing my aegis during a boss battle was something I could ill afford. Thankfully, my protective ability remained operational throughout our conversation and shimmered into existence just as the fireball exploded around me.
Standing firm against the press of the detonation, I continued to utter the final words of my spell. No damage reached my health pool and I had judged correctly the type of spell sent careening towards me. My braced position counteracted any blowback from the fireball. As the fire dissipated, I caught the surprised look on Arantrud’s face. He had not been expecting such a capable enchantment would be surrounding my body.
A dark mass shot from my hands, striking against the mage’s chest. The spell exploded, erupting like a rotten watermelon against his robes. The tarry black sludge squirmed over his body as if alive, seeking flesh to creep into. The mage attempted to extricate the gooey substance with his hands but to no avail. The animate mire rose to tiny obelisks across his body, before slamming down and leeching through his skin.
Notice! Arantrud Warcoat has been affected by Scent of Darkness! All resistances to fire, poison, acid, and disease have been reduced by 50% (MAX).
A look of utter hatred passed through the wizard’s eyes as he stared daggers at the offense. He wound up another casting, this time bright fire encasing his hands as he worked through a complicated incantation. Whatever he was conjuring, its long cast time marked it as being particularly dangerous.
Ensuring I completed mine first, I quickly cast my next spell. For the first time, my hands worked through the necessary flowing gestures of lesser invoke terror. Mystical words reverberated as the magic was called to life. A potent crowd control spell, if the spell bypassed the mage’s resistances, it would cause him to flee in abject horror. Better still, any such retreat would be chaotic and uncoordinated courtesy of the spell’s description.
[Lesser Invoke Terror]. A psychic bolt of energy lances from your hand and strikes a nearby enemy within 100 feet, dealing 10 plus 1n damage, where ‘n’ equals Intelligence. The target’s mind is filled with overwhelming panic and fear causing it to flee from you. Additionally, while affected by this spell, the target’s mind becomes confused and muddled resulting in a decreased movement speed of 33%, as well as causing an uncoordinated retreat. Cost: 75 mana. Cast Time: 3 seconds. Cool down: 1 second. Duration: 2 minutes. Plus 10 feet maximum range, and plus 1% decreased movement speed per spell level.
Note – Any damage inflicted to the target while under the effects of this spell has a chance of ending the spell early (physical damage equals moderate chance, magical damage equals low chance). Finally, this spell does not affect constructs, undead, or other creatures immune to fear.
My spell completed well before Arantrud’s. His hands were raised over his head, calling into being a fiery mass that looked like a red spiral galaxy-spanning over our half of the room. As if in slow motion, his hands moved like a musician directing a whirlpool. The fiery pitch was creating small droplets of liquid fire to form overhead. The wizard’s spell was a massive area of effect spell and was going to literally rain fire on Tallos, my priest, and me. It also threatened to potentially separate the battlefield into two sections, spelling doom on Lowki and Ripley.
Thankfully, it did not have the opportunity to complete and reign destruction. My invoke terror spell shot a psychic lance of energy toward the dwarf. Invisible to either of us, the translucent bolt slammed into the wizard’s forehead, exactly as intended. Immediately, the mage faltered, a terrified look overcoming him. His hands dropped feebly to his sides causing the blistering galaxy forming over our heads to vanish. With a primal cry, the wizard screamed. It was so intense that it briefly stole the attention of the dwarven leader allowing Ripley to land a blow.
The mage crashed backward against the carpeted floor as if he were falling beneath a tidal wave of insects. From my innate knowledge of my spell, the wizard was seeing creatures made from nightmares. Bearing down on him with the fury and biting like a tsunami, Arantrud’s own psyche gave the creatures the form of his darkest fears. While the damage was capable of canceling the spell, the mage was too powerful to leave along with his worst fears. I needed to place at least a few DoTs on his frightened form.
The battle raged around the room, Ripley furiously fending off the devastating blows from the boss’s war maul, and Lowki and Tallos harrying the dwarven priest. My focus was on the wizard as I used another spell for the first time, synaptic toxin. Stella’s argument for the spell had won me over and a part of me was thankful she had spoken up. While the spell did impressive damage, its damage over time function would be less likely to tear away the fear debuff ravaging the wizard’s mind, per lesser invoke terror’s spell description.
My hands flashed through the air as I cast synaptic toxin, the movements reminding me of twisting bolts of lightning. Unusual arcane syllables chanted from my lips as power welled from my core. In a moment, the spell was completed and another invisible wave leaped across the gap at the wizard who had begun foaming at the mouth. For the next two and a half minutes, Arantrud would now find it difficult to focus, possibly outright failing a spell cast.
I was not ready to move beyond the mage yet though. Wanting to place at least one more DoT upon the suffering dwarf, I settled on my specialized boil blood spell. Hopefully, the combined damage of the spells wouldn’t terminate the fear effect while our party handled the other two powerful dwarves.
With the wizard writhing on the ground, his blood boiled as a massive migraine tore at his lifeline. The fear effect was not terminated early, so I turned my attention back to the rest of the battlefield. Our primary objective was to defeat the cleric. His revitalizing energies could allow the dwarves to out sustain us, so he needed to be handled first.
My hands wound through synaptic toxin a second time as my eyes flicked to Ripley. She was facing the boss alone, though waves of restorative magic were allowing her to remain in the fight where, without it, she would have likely long ago fallen to the capable dwarven boss. I saw a splash of golden energy slam into Ripley’s back, the magic instantly returning her to full health.
A frustrated growl from Ripley’s opponent hinted at the aggression our healer was generating from the elite boss, though Ripley did her best to keep herself between the two. Ripley only needed to last until either the cleric, wizard, or both had been defeated. Her shield and defensive stance, combined with the healing magic, allowed her to do so thus far.
Sighting back on the cleric, the furious dwarf was swinging blow after blow with his enchanted mace at the dexterous Lowki. Thankfully, the great cat’s impressive agility and displacement ability were keeping him just out of reach. By the look of it, however, Lowki was able to do precious little damage in return. The dwarf’s chain-linked armor gave little purchase for his claws to rend flesh. A few poisoned spines from Lowki’s weaving tentacles had managed to break through in several places, but a quickly chanted healing spell from the cleric wiped any toxicity from his blood.
Tallos was having better luck inflicting damage against the impressive opponent. A good number of arrows had powered through the healer’s protective shield, feathered shafts marking successful attacks. Still, each new cast of healing magic from the dwarf was dispelling most of the damage the pair were inflicting. I needed to intervene and break the apparent stalemate.
When my synaptic toxin spell slammed into the priest’s body, it caused her to a moment’s hesitation. Her wits stolen momentarily by the deleterious effects of the spell, Lowki was able to crash a barbed tentacle into the side of her neck. Blood and green poison mixed as the dwarf cursed, a hand yanking the quills out tearing bits of flesh along with it.
The divine cleric called upon some instant ability or spell then. A wave of force blasted the giant cat ten feet back. Against single attacks, Lowki’s displaced image typically caused enemy attacks to hit only empty air, but the ability did little against area of effect spells. No longer affronted by Lowki’s savage harassment, the cleric wove her hands into complicated movements. Healing magic washed over her body, causing her body to glow. The energy remained, though it was slowly fading. This latest spell was a regenerative one unless I missed my guess.
“Damn it,” I muttered before starting another spell. I was going to land every single DoT I had at my disposal, layering detrimental effect after effect on the priest. With Tallos and Lowki, hopefully, our combined efforts would be enough to take down the remarkable dwarf.
As my spell was completing, Ripley was sent rocketing past me, thrown away by some ability or attack from the battlelord. Heavy footfalls against plush carpet heralded the boss charging. He wasn’t aligned towards Ripley, however. He was aiming directly for my priest minion, his heavy maul cocked back to remove that nuisance. Any hope for victory would be dashed if he was allowed to continue. This battle was quickly getting out of hand.