The target is a nether portal leading to sector 107 of the Endless Dungeon. Warning: an unidentified stygian infestation has taken root in the ley line connected to this gateway. Infection type: unknown. The portal may still be used, however the consequences of doing so cannot be predicted.
Remaining time until the infestation is purged: 4 hours.
I stared despondently at the Game alert hovering in my mind for a moment before turning my attention to the nether portal itself. The blackness besmirching it had not abated.
“‘…unidentified stygian infestation,’” I quoted. “That sounds less than promising. Anyone know what it means?”
There was no response.
“Safyre?” I prompted, focusing on the aetherist beside me.
She shook her head. “I have no idea.”
I glanced at Adriel, but even after repeating the Adjudicator’s words verbatim to her, she, too, looked just as perplexed.
“I’ve never heard of something like this before either,” the lich murmured.
I grimaced. “That’s just great.”
“Do we flee?” Shael asked, eyeing the opaque surroundings suspiciously, his discomfort obvious.
“We will if we need to, but we’re not there yet.” I turned to our spellcasters again. “What if you—”
“Dispelling doesn’t work,” Adriel said.
“Neither does restoration, rejuvenation, nor any of the other spells I’ve tried,” Safyre added.
“How about we cut the black strings?” Anriq suggested, flexing his hands. “That might do the trick.”
“Don’t,” Adriel and Safyre snapped simultaneously.
The werewolf held up his hands. “I wasn’t going to,” he protested.
My gaze darted from the chastened werewolf to the two women. “What are you afraid of?”
Safyre’s brows crinkled. “As resistant as the… infestation is to spellcraft, I doubt hacking at it with a sword is going to have any effect.”
“And,” Adriel added, her lips pursed, “simply touching the strands may transfer the infection.”
I rubbed my chin. “Hmm, in that case, maybe Anriq should try.”
Both spellcasters glares swapped to me.
“He’s a werewolf,” I reminded them. “I doubt any infection, no matter how severe, will be able to take hold in his body for long.”
Adriel frowned. “Perhaps,” she muttered. “But is that a chance you want to take? Don’t forget there is no safe zone for him to resurrect in.”
I thought about that for a moment, then shook my head. “No. You’re right. It’s an unnecessary risk.”
“But—” Anriq began.
“No,” I repeated more firmly, and he subsided. “That leaves us with only two other options,” I went on. “Retreat or wait it out.”
No one said anything for a moment.
“Four hours is not all that long,” Safyre said at last.
She was right, it wasn’t. But four hours was likely long enough for the overlord to get here, and by this point, I was all but certain that that had been the nagas’ intent all along—to trap us in the sector until reinforcements arrived. Staying would be playing into their hands. There was something else that concerned me too. “What about the wolves?”
Safyre took my meaning at once. “The elders aren’t expecting us back before nightfall,” she assured me. “They have no cause to worry yet, and Duggar knows better than to allow the Pack to enter the gate.”
I sighed. That was one less worry at least. “Alright then,” I said, coming to a decision. “We wait—but not here.”
“That would be an especially bad idea,” Safyre agreed. “Let’s relocate to the cave.” She glanced sideways at Shael. “We have a lot to discuss in any event, and there at least we’ll be safe.”
I hoped that was true. “Let’s go.”
“Not so fast,” Adriel interjected. “We’ve got to retrieve the naga remains first. If we’re going to use the cave system as a base, we might as well start transferring the scales now.”
Careful not to sigh, I turned about and headed back to the discarded pile, beckoning Shael and Anriq. Somehow, I got the feeling that we would be the ones doing the lion’s share of the work.
? ? ?
Safyre has cast supreme portal, creating a protected ley line to a secondary location in sector 18,240.
Transfer through portal commencing…
…
…
Passage completed!
The nether toxicity at your current location has decreased to 0. No environmental ill-effects experienced.
I stepped out of a world filled with yellow smog and into the cool, welcoming darkness of an underground cave. “Ah,” I exhaled, set immediately at ease.
The others trickled in after me, both Adriel and Safyre bearing magelights. “Feel at home?” Safyre teased, spotting my expression.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Actually, I do.” Releasing my end of the impromptu sled we had assembled, I turned about in a full circle and examined our surroundings. We were in a large cavern. It was about a hundred yards from end to end and stretched nearly as high. And even with my mindsight extended to its fullest, I could sense no mindglows but our own.
“Is all of it this empty?” I asked, as Safyre’s portal closed behind us.
There was nothing living in the cave, not even moss or lichen. And except for my five companions and the two sleds overflowing with naga scales, everything else was cold barren stone.
Anriq nodded. “Near as we can tell. We’re about a thousand feet below ground.” He pointed to a darkened passage to the right. “That used to go to the surface.” He spun around. “And those openings all lead to tunnels that delve deeper into the earth, but like I said earlier, we’ve explored only a tiny fraction so far.”
“Why did we come here?” Shael asked rhetorically. Rubbing his arms, he tried in vain to stop shivering. The cave was appreciably colder than the surface. “This place doesn’t look like any sort of improvement over what’s above.”
Anriq scowled. “Really?” he asked sarcastically. “You’d rather hang out in the nether?”
“The Roost would’ve been better,” the bard mumbled under his breath, perhaps unaware that both Anriq and my own hearing was sharp enough to catch his offhand comment.
“He complains a lot, doesn’t he?” Ghost remarked.
“Not usually,” I replied, defending the half-elf. “He’s had to put up with a lot from me, and I guess he’s feeling out of sorts.” Out aloud, I said, “The tavern might be more comfortable, but not everyone can enter it.”
Shael’s gaze darted to Adriel as he took my meaning. “Oh.” He hugged himself tighter. “So, what do we do now?”
“Sit for starters,” I said, dropping into a cross-legged stance. It was finally time for a frank discussion, and this was as safe a place as any for it. I patted the bare rock to my left. “You sit too.”
The half-elf sat gingerly, eyeing the pyre wolf on my other side with a fair bit of trepidation. “That’s Ghost, I take it,” he said, as the others took their places.
“It is.” I smiled. “And be careful of what you say next, because not only can she understand everything you say, she can speak too.”
The bard’s eyes widened. “I… see.”
Gesturing at the others, I began making introductions. “Safyre, you know already.”
The aetherist nodded politely in response, but Shael refused to meet her gaze.
I frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s a forsworn,” he muttered stiffly.
“She is,” I said evenly. “And?”
The bard stared at me, taken aback by my lack of surprise. “Don’t you know what that means?” he hissed. “We can be killed just for knowing her!”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
“What’s so funny?” Shael demanded.
My mirth died. “I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t remember our previous conversation.”
His eyes narrowed. “You told me she was a forsworn while I was enslaved?”
That got the others’ attention.
“You used blood puppet on him?” Safyre cried. “Why would you do that!”
I waited a beat before responding, realizing that matters could quickly devolve if I said the wrong thing. “I used it to administer a truth test.”
Safyre blinked. “A truth test?” she repeated, seemingly at loss for words.
Adriel chuckled as she caught on. “Oh my. That was clever.”
“I don’t get it,” Anriq said, his brows drawing down.
“An enslaved subject is spell-bound to obedience,” Adriel explained, still smiling. “All Michael had to do was command Shael here to tell the truth and he would have had no choice but to.”
Anriq’s frown deepened. “Not even the Wolf Torc is powerful enough to enforce that level of obedience.” His gaze met mine. “That’s a scary spell.”
“It certainly is,” I said. “Which is why I obtained Shael’s consent before employing it.” I glanced at the bard. “Right, Shael?”
“I was a willing subject,” he agreed, further allaying any fears the others might have.
Not wanting to dwell further on the subject of blood puppet—Anriq still looked perturbed—I moved the conversation on quickly. “And as to your question,” I said, addressing the bard again, “yes, I did tell you Safyre is a forsworn. I also told you what I am, which in the eyes of the new Powers is infinitely worse than what Safyre is.”
The bard’s eyes rounded at that.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that in a moment,” I said. “The point being, you’re going to learn a whole lot of secrets today. Many of which will not only get your throat slit, but ours too, and that of everyone you know and care about as well. If I were you, I’d withhold judgment until you’ve the full picture.” I held his gaze. “Sounds reasonable?”
Shael nodded slowly. “It does.”
“Excellent,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “Then let’s begin. For starters let me tell you about a group known as the ancients…”
? ? ?
“That’s a lot to take in,” Shael said when I and the others finally finished our tales.
“It is,” I agreed. “Now the time has come to make your choice.”
“My choice?”
“Whether to join the Forerunners or not. Whether to tie your fate with ours. And whether to become Pact-bound and allow me to direct your movements.”
Shael shook his head. “You’re a Power…” he marveled. “I still find that bit hard to believe. You can truly form Pacts?”
“I can,” I replied simply.
Shael’s gaze drifted to the rest of the party. “Everyone here is part of the Forerunners?”
“Technically, yes.”
“Technically?”
“Adriel hasn’t formally joined yet,” I replied.
“A matter we should rectify today,” she interjected.
I raised an eyebrow in surprise. The lich hadn’t been overly keen on the Forerunners and my idea of ‘one House.’ Her attitude had been more one of ‘wait and see,’ and I’d been willing to let her be until she was ready to join.
Which appeared to be now.
“You’re sure?” I asked.
She nodded. “The time for half-measures is over.” She paused, seeming to mull over her next words. “And I tried returning to Death’s home sector—but failed. I fear it will be a while yet before I can recover my body and become a Death scion anew.”
“What happened?” I asked quietly.
She shrugged. “The portal refused to open.”
“The sector is shielded,” I surmised.
“Yes,” Adriel said bleakly. “Someone has claimed Death’s bastion.”
I pursed my lips, wondering how she’d react to the news I bore. “I know who.”
The lich leaned forward intently. She didn’t ask, but I could see the demand in her eyes.
“The Awakened Dead,” I said softly.
“Ah,” Adriel exhaled, but despite the calmness of her response, there was a sudden fierceness to her gaze that boded nothing good for Erebus, Ishita, and their ilk. “That makes sense, funnily enough.”
“Does it change your decision?” I asked.
It took the lich a moment to refocus on me. “About joining the Forerunners, you mean?”
I nodded.
“No, I’m still committed.”
“Good. We’ll talk more about the Awakened Dead and Death’s sector soon, I promise. But for now…” I turned back to Shael. “How about you? Are you ready to make your choice?”
He bit his lip, hesitating. “I assume you gave me this choice before?”
“I did.”
“And what decision did I arrive at?”
I smiled. “I’m sure you can figure out that one for yourself.”
Shael sighed. “I suppose I can.” He fell silent for a moment, then nodded decisively. “I’m in.”
I grinned. “Perfect.”