Lord Sorcerer: Singularity Online: Book 3 Page 38

  “I’m not sensing anything,” Meridian spoke up. “I felt it when you killed that van-thingy, though. You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

  “When I get it to Expert, I’ll make sure to,” he grinned at the woman. “For now, though, let’s check anyway. That caster before could hide from your senses; I don’t want to be surprised by anything, do you?” Aranos was fairly certain the tower was empty; not only was his Lifesense not picking up the strange wrongness associated with undead, his Battlesense told him there were no enemies nearby. Still, that Skill wasn’t at such a high level that he could trust it implicitly; he knew that a high Stealth Skill or powerful Spell would block his Battlesense easily.

  The tower was a rank, filthy ruin. The bottom floor was filled with bones and rotting flesh, no doubt animals that the undead had caught and devoured, and a thick cloud of black flies swarmed up as they entered, buzzing harmlessly but annoyingly around the party. The stench of rotten meat was overpowering, and Aranos had to hold a rag over his nose to be able to breathe at all. The upper floor was even worse; the animal corpses here had been, flayed, eviscerated, and strung up along the stone walls as if they were macabre decorations. The party quickly retreated down the stairs and fled into the relatively mild stench of the torn and shattered undead bodies.

  “I really hope that no one’s suggesting we sleep in there,” Longfellow spoke up as they all caught their breaths. “I’m not saying it’s a bad place, or anything, but it could use a few, little touches. Like maybe a massive fire burning it down.”

  “I hate to agree with Shortfellow,” Meridian added, “But we aren’t going to be able to rest there. I could barely keep my lunch down just going inside.”

  “If I am choosing between sleeping in the open, where I will certainly be overrun by undead during the night, or resting in that charnel house, I will choose the tower, and it would be absurd not to,” Saphielle shook her head. “Yet, the short one is correct: fire would be a simple method for cleansing that place, and one that the Redeemer could certainly perform.”

  “Short one?” Longfellow protested. “First of all, there is nothing – and I do mean nothing – short about me. And second, I could literally use your head as an armrest, blue-hair.”

  “And I am certain that I could hurl you bodily onto the top of the tower,” the woman replied calmly. “I assure you, I will refrain so long as you do.”

  “Well, I mean, I wasn’t going to do it,” Longfellow muttered. “Just saying I could, is all.”

  “Fire would probably work, but then what?” Phil asked. “Aranos, did you get anything about making this a safe zone?”

  Aranos quickly scanned his notifications and shook his head. “Probably because it’s not habitable right now, or maybe because it’s so Corrupted…” As he spoke, his eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Geltheriel.

  “That might work, Oathbinder,” the woman nodded. “As well, it might draw the attention of greater foes; and yet, even those would be unlikely to attack us on ground reclaimed by the Redeemer.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably our best bet,” he agreed, turning to the humans. “Okay, I’m about to cast a Spell that’s really complicated and really powerful. If all goes well, then when I’m done, this place should be a lot nicer and a lot safer. Please don’t bother me while I’m doing it, or things could go very badly for everybody.”

  “As well, he may be Exhausted when it is completed,” Saphielle added. “If that is the case, you will not bother him with inane questions that can easily wait until he has rested.”

  “Fair enough,” Phil chuckled, noticing Aranos’ discomfort. “You do what you have to do; we’ll all keep watch just in case.”

  Aranos turned and looked at the tower, trying to call up a feeling of sorrow. The tower was shattered, a mockery of what it had once been, and he let his imagination spin up images of how the land might have looked then. He pictured a smooth, dirt road passing before the tower, with wagons and elves walking along it. No, not just elves; Antas had been a hub for many races, so surely humans and dwarves would have passed this way, too. Families with young children, strolling hand-in-hand, laughing and playing as they traveled.

  No longer, of course. The Feast had destroyed those simple moments for the people of Ka; now, they lived in fear and terror, afraid of the night and terrified to go far from their fortified cities. This tower had become useless, but once it had been vital. Once, it had mattered. It needed to matter again; Aranos needed it to be restored. He didn’t just need it, he demanded it.

  To his surprise, light and power ignited within him, rising up from his core and spreading out into the air. Warm, golden energy washed down him and plunged into the ground, spreading out to fill the clearing. Aranos barely noticed; his focus was on the tower. He reached out to it mentally, envisioning it whole, focusing his whole being on seeing it standing proudly once more.

  Energy burst from him in solid-seeming wave of deep brown. The power wrapped around the tower, crawling up it, filling cracks in the stone and pooling in gaps in the masonry. The energy reached the top of the tower and continued, filling in the lost patterns, layering earth and stone as the wave of energy swelled higher and higher.

  The corpses around him erupted in bursts of brilliant, white flame; he could sense the torn bodies within the tower being consumed by the same holy fire. The darkness and shadow filling the land and the air shuddered as his power drove it back, pushing it away from the tower, denying it this one island in a sea of darkness. As the power roared through him, burning away Corruption, he once again heard the distant voice screaming obscenities and horrific threats; once more, he ignored them utterly. He wasn’t afraid of the Darkness or its imprecations; this was the first step of a campaign that would free another city, and the Darkness knew that…and secretly, it feared.

  As the power finally ebbed and faded, leaving his body ravaged and his mana spirals nearly empty, Aranos felt a wave of exhaustion sweep over him, as strong as it had ever been, and he collapsed to the ground, fighting to stay awake. As he struggled to rise, Geltheriel appeared in his vision.

  “Rest now, Oathbinder,” she said softly. “We will guard you. Dream, and speak to those who you must.”

  Aranos tried to protest, but the idea of sleep was too hard to resist, and he closed his eyes and sank into slumber.

  Chapter 10

  Lily floated in the dreamscape, processing what she’d just learned from that senile, old Wizard whose dreams she’d haunted. Well, she supposed ‘learned’ wasn’t the best word; ‘stolen through torture’ was probably more appropriate. It didn’t matter; either way, it had the same result. She’d learned some new Spells to empower her summons, and when the Wizard woke up, he’d think it was all a horrible nightmare. That was the best part about Dream Haunting; her victims couldn’t really die, no matter what she did to them, and the next morning, they’d attribute her presence to just being a bad dream. A really fucking bad dream, to be sure, but still just a dream.

  Part of her felt that was a waste. After all, she worked damn hard to find the best methods to torture these assholes, and they just wrote her off as being something bad they ate the night before or something. The more vicious part of her, though, couldn’t be happier: she could Dream Haunt the same person as often as she wanted, and so long as she didn’t stay too long in their dreams, they’d just think they were having a string of recurring nightmares. It was too bad this world didn’t have any fucking shrinks for them to see; then again, Lily had her fill of shrinks back in her other life, so she was fine without their dumb asses here, telling her how she hated her mom and shit. Yeah, of course she hated her mom; the bitch went and died and left her alone with that prick stepfather. Didn’t need some fancy-ass college diploma to guess that.

  As she thought about her stepfather, Lily tensed herself for a wave of rage, but to her surprise, it didn’t come. She considered that for a minute and realized that, somehow, she was actually kinda happy right now. Her plan
was working perfectly, thanks to her Dream Haunting she’d actually learned all the stupid shit about magic the elves were supposed to teach her but never did, the assholes, and she was pretty sure she knew how to complete her transformation. It would take some doing, and it would probably cost her all her summons, but that was fine. The ones that really mattered, she could summon again; the ones she’d be losing weren’t really worth worrying about.

  It was the final part of her plan that bothered her. It went against her nature, but that fucking god Morx told her in no uncertain terms that if she didn’t do it, she’d never take that last step and turn into the super-badass bitch who would rip this world apart.

  And then, maybe then, she could finally get some goddamn peace.

  Aranos sped through the Realm of Dreams, his shield of visions held firmly by the tendrils of power he was trickling into them. His dream travels had been successful and fruitful, and he was heading back to his body to get some real sleep.

  Lorsan had been surprised to find himself in the dreamscape, but he’d hid that surprise well; Aranos’ Sense Intent Skill barely detected it. “My Lord, I am honored by this visit. What can I do for you?”

  “Just checking to see how things are going, Lorsan. How are the new staff working out? Have we made any progress on the new Path?”

  “I have spoken to several Houses that are friendly to House Evenshade, and they have agreed to work with you in this regard,” Lorsan nodded. “To be honest, I was surprised by how quickly they agreed; Houses Olothyra and Meluiben have offered us simple gathering Quests, while House Waeslar requested information about the world the Travelers call home. I have assigned each of these Quests, and the Travelers are currently undertaking them, when they are not otherwise occupied with the Quests you and your associates offered them.”

  Aranos nodded; House Olothrya was Dirue’s house, and they probably felt they owed him for freeing her from enslavement. House Meluiben was no doubt acting at Durlan’s request, and Ilmadia of Waeslar had already told him she wanted to be friends.

  “We have also had a half-score of requests to join the House,” Lorsan continued. “You should be able to see these in your notifications, my Lord.” Aranos frowned and pulled up his House screen; right there, under ‘Members’, there was a flashing notification telling him he had petitioners who wanted to join the House.

  “Who are these people?” he asked curiously.

  “Mostly younger members of more established Houses,” Lorsan shrugged. “Two are of the laborers Master Durlan helped you employ, as well.”

  Aranos glanced over the names; they didn’t mean anything to him. “Do you have any thoughts or concerns?” he asked the majordomo hopefully.

  Lorsan frowned in thought. “I would be cautious about accepting the two that you have employed; that may make it seem as if you are attempting to steal members from other Houses and make it more difficult to hire additional staff if you need so later.”

  “What if we told them they could only join with permission from one of their Elders?” Aranos suggested slowly. “That way, no one could accuse us of stealing them, and their House knows that we’re respecting their membership.”

  “That is a wise choice, my Lord.” The elf frowned briefly. “There is one other that I should mention. Meriel of House Luzeiros; have you heard of this House?”

  When Aranos shook his head, the majordomo continued. “They were once close allies with House Exxidor. While they broke ties once Keryth’s betrayal was made known – their children were among those subjected to the enslaving amulets, as they specialize in training with longswords – certainly, Exxidor’s fall harmed them and their ambitions.”

  “So, are you worried that she’s a spy of some kind?” Aranos asked. “Or that she might betray the House?”

  “Yes, to both, my Lord.”

  “Then we won’t accept her,” Aranos shrugged. The elf opened his mouth to speak, but Aranos shook his head firmly. “We can’t afford to be careless, Lorsan, even if it means angering another House. At the same time, we can’t afford to simply ignore a House that’s bigger and older than ours.” Aranos frowned, thinking furiously. “Tell Meriel that while we appreciate her offer, we want to cement relations with Luzeiros before we accept any petitions from that House. Let her know that once I’ve returned, I’ll be happy to speak with someone from Luzeiros and see if we can’t build closer ties. That way, I can get a feel for whether or not they’re bargaining in good faith.”

  “As you wish, my Lord,” Lorsan bowed. “Beyond that, there is little to report. I have arranged for the sale of the items you created through the auspices of House Gilris. The Scion Faraine expressed her gratitude that you had produced only Fine and Excellent quality items so as not to challenge her House with Masterwork pieces and agreed to sell them through their channels for only 10% of the proceeds. Since we will likely get close to double the price for the items by relying on House Gilris’ sources and reputation, I felt this an acceptable compromise.”

  “Great call,” Aranos nodded. “Keep holding things down, and hopefully I’ll be back within the week.”

  His next visit had been a bit more interesting to Aranos. Mathias the Lancer seemed taken utterly aback by the whirling dreamscape around him when he appeared, and his face reflected his shock. “This is freaking awesome!” the Warrior breathed as he turned around, staring at the chaotic images that shielded them both from the senses of whatever predators waited in the dream world. “Wait…am I dreaming?”

  “Sort of,” Aranos shrugged. “Were you asleep?”

  “Yeah,” Mathias nodded. “Getting ready for tonight’s hunt.” He turned back to Aranos. “Hey, I don’t know if I’ve really ever thanked you for helping us all out. I mean, I know Mathias the Lancer has, but seriously. Thanks. We’ve had more fun in the last few days than we’d had the entire week before.”

  “Glad I could help,” Aranos grinned. “You’d have gotten there, you know. I just got a lucky head-start. So, how’s the Quest going?”

  “Oh, great!” the Lancer replied eagerly. “Best we’ve figured so far is that something’s been either training the Blighted creatures or commanding them with something like a Leadership Skill. The things have developed tactics, so we’ve had to figure out ways to overcome that. We’ve been practicing multi-party tactics with the Guards, and now we go out in larger groups at night. With the XP bonuses from the bounty Quests and the combat XP, we’ve been jumping in levels. It’s awesome!”

  “No clue what it is, yet?”

  “With the bestiaries in the House of Stars’ Library, we’ve been able to narrow it down to a handful of possibilities.” Aranos opened his mouth to speak, but Mathias shook his head. “Nope, don’t want any help from the peanut gallery, if that’s okay. We’ve figured out that the Quest rewards us more for working things out on our own than if we ask for help. You do your thing; we’ve got this.”

  Aranos reluctantly nodded; he had an idea how the players could lure whatever creature was controlling the monsters out of hiding, but the man was right. These people were all competent players; they would work out their own solutions. Still, having such an interesting-sounding questline happening out from under his control ate at Aranos. One reason he’d never been given a position as a Department Head was that he tended to micromanage; he had to fight that urge, here.

  In fact, he realized, he had to fight it, period. Lorsan was making solid decisions for their House – they were getting new members and all of their numbers were slowly rising – and the man didn’t need Aranos poking his nose into day-to-day issues. His new, combined party had fought well together, and the players seemed to be perfectly comfortable battling side-by-side with NPCs. He needed to focus on the things that only he could do.

  With that thought, he turned and sped back to his body; there were two things that were totally unique to him, and he needed to work on them. He had undead-frying Spells to craft and items to Enchant.

  He woke to find hims
elf resting on a stone floor, a blanket tucked under his head as a pillow. As he rose to a sitting position, his body feeling bruised and sore – likely from the hard stone he was resting on – he felt someone stir beside him and turned to see Silma raise her head from where she had curled it up to rest.

  Welcome back, pack leader, she sent silently to him, her muzzle hanging open in what he knew was her version of a grin. Did you rest well?

  Yeah, it was great. I got to talk to a few people. How are things going with the others?

  Once you fell asleep, Saphielle brought you up into the new den you built for us and made sure you were comfortable. I volunteered to stay with you, since the others all wanted to talk, and the only one who can hear me is Rhys.

  Aranos smiled; apparently, Rhys was constantly trying to communicate with Silma, but she feigned ignorance with him and only replied in one-word answers. According to the fenrin, while Rhys wasn’t particularly chatty with the other elves, he kept up a constant, running dialogue with Silma, one that she stubbornly ignored.

  Are they getting along okay?

  You can see for yourself, pack leader. There are windows in this den, after all.

  Aranos snorted and rose to his feet, glancing out the window at the ground far below. His Spell had apparently restored the tower to its former height, since he seemed to be about fifty feet or so above the ground. With his newly enhanced Perception, though, the clearing below was sharp and distinct.

  The effects of his Spell were immediately clear. The area surrounding the tower was lush and green, with calf-high stalks of grass, wide-leafed bushes with bright, yellow flowers, and small saplings with pale silver leaves. The edge of his Spell was equally clear; at the edge of the clearing, the forest shifted abruptly. The trees took on their black, Corrupted look, the grass became coarse and stiff, and the bushes and flowers were replaced with thorny vines. Anyone passing this way would have no trouble seeing that the tower had been reclaimed and the land Redeemed.