The Grand Game
I fell, tumbling over and over through a seemingly endless void of darkness. My eyes stared out, but I saw nothing. My mouth was open, and my throat was raw and scrapped. It felt as if I had been screaming for hours. Yet I heard nothing.
Even worse, I remembered nothing.
No, that wasn’t quite true. I knew my name. I’m Michael, I thought. I knew nothing else. Not where I lived. Not how old I was. Not where I was from, or even how I came to be falling through a void of nothingness.
But I knew who I was.
I’m Michael, I repeated. It seemed a nearly negligible tidbit of knowledge, yet it gave me a measure of comfort, and I clung to it as I plummeted downwards.
Hours passed, if not days, or weeks.
I kept falling.
And kept screaming.
Eventually, it proved too much for my overwrought mind, and oblivion beckoned. Gratefully, I surrendered myself to unconsciousness, and waited for it all to end.
~~~
Hands shook at me. “Wake up, boy. Don’t keep the Master waiting.”
I groaned. My body was riddled with pain. Not an inch of me felt free of aches and bruises, and I wanted nothing more than to return to the sweet nothingness of sleep. Shrugging away from the interloper’s reaching touch, I rolled over. Escaping his attention was not so easy however.
He tugged at me again. Stubbornly, I ignored him. That proved to be a poor decision. A brutal kick to my midriff followed and my world went white with agony. Involuntarily, I curled up in a ball. Vicious bastard, I swore.
“Easy Stayne,” someone else said. “I may have need of him yet.” The words were mildly spoken, yet the timbre of command in the speaker’s voice was unmistakable.
“Sorry, Master,” Stayne said. “I’ll be more careful, promise.”
The pain in my center eased slightly, and I forced my eyes open. I was on the ground: bare earth covered with only loose bits of rock and shale. My gaze drifted upwards. A dome of white light, about twelve feet across, surrounded me, but beyond that was only pitch black. The darkness was unrelieved by the slightest detail and gave no hint of what lay within it.
I shivered as the memory of falling came rushing back.
My eyes darted back to the hard ground. It seemed that my plunge through the void had finally come to an end. No wonder my body feels like one big mass of bruises. But then again, if I had fallen anywhere near as far as I suspected, it was a miracle I was even alive.
Where am I?
I still didn’t remember how I came to be wherever I was, or any more of myself other than my name. Time enough to deal with the mystery later, Michael, I told myself. Right now, you have other matters to attend to.
I rolled onto my back again, and found the two who had disturbed my sleep watching me intently. At the sight of the pair, a ripple of fear shuddered through my body. Both figures were disturbingly unnatural.
The Master… floated. My gaze flicked from his robed form to his booted heels hovering nearly a foot above the ground. My eyes widened at the sight. Still, it was not the only startling aspect of the man. What was equally disturbing was the Master’s size.
He was at least nine-feet-tall.
I gulped and turned my gaze to the second figure: Stayne. My appetite for amazement had been sated, so I barely blinked as I took in his bleached white bones. He is a bloody skeleton. A walking, talking skeleton. What the hell is going on here? I paused, struck by a ludicrous thought.
Is this… hell? I certainly seemed to have fallen enough. I chuckled grimly. Maybe it is, and maybe I deserve to be here.
“What are you cackling at human?” Stayne asked suspiciously. His empty orbs pulsed an ominous red. “You find all this funny?” He took a threatening step forward.
I scrambled backwards and out of his reach. Now, now, Michael, I chided myself. Wherever you are, you are in enough trouble already. Let’s try not to ruffle the natives feathers anymore, shall we?
“Enough Stayne,” the Master snapped. “Help the boy up.”
The skeleton hung his head sheepishly and lowered the weapon in his bony hands. It was a double-bladed axe and I hadn’t even noticed him draw the bloody thing. My eyes narrowed as I stared at the weapon. The axe head was formed from an obsidian metallic substance that I didn’t recognize.
Stayne stepped forward again. This time I didn’t back away and only watched warily as he stuck out his arm. Cautiously, I took the offered hand and the skeleton heaved me to my feet.
I tottered slightly, wincing as new aches made themselves known, before regaining my balance. Standing beside the skeleton, I immediately noticed our disparity in height. Stayne loomed over me. I judged his height to be around six-feet, which would put my own height at just under five and a half feet.
So, I’m short, I thought. I stared down at my pale brown arms. They lacked any muscle definition. And thin.
“That’s better,” the Master said. I still couldn’t see his face. His voluminous black robe covered him from head to toe. Only his steel-clad boots and leather gloves were visible.
“Welcome Michael,” the Master said.
My head jerked involuntarily at that. “You know who I am?” I asked hopefully.
The Master shook his head. “No Michael. I do not. Your memories were wiped when you were brought here. Only your name remains. You are a blank slate and free to write your story anew in whatever fashion you wish.”
“Brought here?” I asked sharply, dissatisfied by his response. “Who brought me here? You?”
“Watch your tone, boy,” Stayne growled.
The Master waved his servant to silence. “No, it was not me. I do not have the power to perform such a feat. Yet.” He paused. “It was the cosmos.”
At my blank look, the Master continued, “Still your thoughts and focus your attention inwards. Make of your mind a still and waiting pool, and perhaps things will become clearer.”
I stared at the so-called Master in consternation, wondering if I should do as his bade. Focus my attention inwards? How was that going to help? My gaze darted from the Master to Stayne. Both were watching me expectantly.
Just how crazy were these two? And me as well for contemplating doing what the Master asked. Still, it didn’t look like I was going to get answers any other way. And besides, what could it hurt to try?
With a sigh, I closed my eyes and did my best to quieten my mind. A second passed. Then another. Nothing happened. “This is ridiculous,” I said, feeling foolish. “Nothing is—”
I broke off as a strange and wholly unnatural sensation rippled through me. Something—a foreign entity? an unfathomable consciousness?—entered my mind, and words spilled across it.
Welcome to the Forever Kingdom, Michael.
You have been brought to this realm by the will of the cosmos and its gods to participate in the Grand Game. Through your own deeds and actions in your past life, you have merited a place as a player in the Game.
Rest assured, you made the choice to enter the Forever Kingdom willingly. To preserve your sanity and to allow you to forge your destiny afresh and unburdened by your past, your memories have been wiped clean.
Good luck and may fortune favor your Game!
My jaw dropped open and for long moments my mouth worked soundlessly. “What was that?” I finally managed to ask.
The Master laughed and even Stayne seemed to share in the amusement, snickering loudly.
“That Michael,” the Master said, “was the Adjudicator. And you, my dear boy, are the Game’s newest participant.”
Confounded, I stared at the Master. “What is the Grand Game?”
“All in good time, my boy,” the Master assured me. “But come now, you were the last. The others are waiting.”
“Others? What others?” I asked.
The Master ignored me. Turning around, he floated away. The small circle of light that had illuminated my surroundings moved with him. In fact the light seemed to be centered on his figure, but I still could not make out its source.
With the Master’s departure, the encroaching darkness swallowed me, leaving me with only Stayne’s glowing red eyes for company. “Damnit,” I growled.
If I didn’t want to be stuck alone in the dark again, I had no other choice but to follow the Master — as he likely very well knew. Cursing whatever fate brought me here, I hurried after his departing figure and the comforting globe of light surrounding him.
~~~
With Stayne by my side, and the Master floating before us, we traversed the darkness. I tried questioning the Master — and even Stayne again — but both steadfastly ignored me. Left to myself, I turned my attention inwards and cautiously probed my mind, feeling again for the sense of the entity that had written in it before. But as hard as I tried, I caught no whiff of the mysterious being.
Presently we came to a cast iron door set in wall of grey stone blocks. The walls extended to my left and right beyond the circle of light the Master cast, and I could not tell how far it stretched. Stayne stepped forward and unbarred the door, and as silently as ever the master floated inside.
I followed after.
The room within was bare of furnishing, but was thankfully well lit with torches set all along its four walls. The floor of the chamber was paved with the same grey stones as the wall, and the roof curved high overhead with its peaked center barely visible. Seated within the room were hundreds of people.
Some were human. Many were not.
I felt barely a flicker of surprise as my eyes roved over features that my mind identified as dwarven, elven, goblin, troll, orc, and many more. I knew with bone-deep certainty that besides for my fellow humans, I had never encountered the likes of any of the other species in the room.
The thought was unexpectedly comforting.
It seemed that even though my memories had been wiped, I retained some connection to who I was — or had been. I am still me in some sense. It was reassuring to know that I was not wholly a blank slate, that some facet of who I had been remained.
At our entrance, the quite hum of conversation that had filled the room died down and every gaze in the chamber turned our way. Immediately, I noticed an oddity.
Everyone in the room was dressed in the same manner: in white cotton shorts and shirts. I glanced down at myself.
I was dressed in the same clothes too. “Who are these people?” I whispered.
“They are your fellow candidates,” the Master replied vaguely. “Like you, they will be competing for the honor of joining my cause in the Game.”
I glanced at him. “Your cause?”
Once more, he ignored me. Gliding through the air, the Master floated upwards as he made his way to the center of the room where he stopped, hovering high above us all. “Gather around candidates,” the Master said, his voice as soft-spoken as ever, but somehow still reaching me from a few dozen yards away. “The last of you have arrived and it is time to begin.”
Moving quietly, I slipped further into the room and sank to the ground in a cross-legged stance next to a human woman. With her attention fixed on the Master, she did not so much as glance at me.
The Master had fallen silent while he gathered his thoughts. “As the Adjudicator himself has already told you,” he began after a moment, “you’ve been brought to the Forever Kingdom to become players in the Grand Game.” He paused. “But you are not yet players. You are only candidates. Before you can fully participate in the Game, you must earn that right.”
The Master spun a slow circle, surveying the hundreds of faces staring up at him. “And that is why you are all here: to compete against each other for the honor of becoming players in my faction: the Awakened Dead, the preeminent faction in the Axis of Evil.”
There was some muttering at that. Axis of Evil? I thought, feeling my own measure of concern. It didn’t sound like anything good. Nor did the Master’s faction: the Awakened Dead. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have anything to do with either.
“Silence,” Stayne thundered from where he lurked by the door.
The Master chuckled, a grim humorless sound. “I sense your unease and I can taste your fear candidates. Worried are you, that the Axis of Evil is not for you?”
Some brave souls in the crowded room nodded. Instinctively, I held myself still and let no hint of my own thoughts slip. From behind, I felt Stayne’s eyes sweep the room, and I had a feeling that those few who had let their own unease show would soon have cause to rue doing so.
“Make no mistake,” the Master continued, “it is no accident that you have been reborn within the Grand Game in the very heart of the unholy alliance. Your memories may have been wiped, but it is your actions in your past life that brought you here.” He laughed again. “Only the blackest of deeds would have brought you to me. Imagine the foulest thing you could do, and I assure you, you have done it already.”
The Master paused and swept his gaze across the room again. “Like it or not, candidates, you are well-suited to Darkness. It lives and breathes in your souls.”
The Master’s gaze crossed my own. “Understand this: you are evil.”
Chapter 003: The Epitome of Evil
I bit at the inside of lip, fighting hard not despair at the Master’s assertions. Was it true?
Am I evil?
What had I been in my previous life? A serial killer? A mass murderer? A rapist? Heavens forbid, I hope not. I searched deep within myself, yet could detect nothing within me that resonated with the Master’s words. But the Master was still speaking, so I set aside my gnawing worry and listened to him again. I would have to think more on my origins later.
“Regardless, of how you may feel — or think you feel — on the matter,” the Master continued, “if you candidates want to live, you have no choice now but to complete the task I have set before you.”
The Master pointed to another barred door at the room’s far end. “When we are done here, you will proceed through that door. There you will choose your first Class.”
Confused mutterings followed. The Master waved away the candidates’ confusion. “I see some of you have no idea about what I speak of. No matter. Your questions will be answered in due course. Those of you who have tried interacting with the Game will have found it unavailable. This is because I have blocked your access to the Adjudicator, but in the room beyond you will find the Game interfaces available again. It will tell you all you need to know about Classes.”
I scratched at my chin, noting in passing that I had no beard. I knew what Classes were — or thought I did. It is a gaming term. Now how did I know that? Had I played in the Grand Game before?
“Once you have chosen your first Class,” the Master said, “you will move beyond the next room and into the dungeon.”
My ears perked up at that. We were going into a dungeon? That didn’t bode well. I glanced at my flimsy clothes. How will we survive without any gear?
Seeming to read my thoughts, the Master addressed my concern. “Do not fear, each of you will be provided with two pieces of equipment before you venture into the dungeon. Two pieces, mind, no more.” The Master chuckled. “After all, where would the fun be in that? Additionally, I have a gift for each of you.”
The floating black-robed figure raised his hands and muttered words under his breath that I failed to catch. My brows drew down. What was he doing?
I got my answer a moment later, as from somewhere unseen, the drumming of wings filled the air, seemingly as if in answer to the Master’s call.
I glanced upwards at the shadowed ceiling. Sure enough, hundreds of tiny white flying forms were loping about in a furious circle. Where had the birds come from? Had the Master summoned the creatures? And how? I was certain they hadn’t been in the room when we had entered.
The Master dropped his hands, and the birds dove downwards. Passing the black-robed figure, the flock split as individual creatures honed in on a different candidate.
One hurtled directly towards me, seemingly on a collision course with my nose. Hurriedly, I shield my face with my arm while I waited for the inevitable crash.
It did not come.
Lowering my arm, I peeked at the white form hovering in front of me.
It was not a bird.
It was a bat. A fleshless bat.
~~~
I stared in amazement at the skeletal creature in front me. No larger than my hand, the bat held itself stationary in the air with the flapping of its delicate wings. Its bones appeared too fragile to survive against any concerted attack — or keep it airborne for that matter — yet the creature still exuded a cold menace.
As intently as I considered the bat, it studied me in return with the two glowing orbs of arctic light that I took for its eyes.
“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything, human?”
I blinked. The bat had spoken. Its words had echoed eerily though the gaping cavity that was its mouth and were barely understandable. Still, the creature had spoken.
And why not? What’s one more wonder to heap upon all the other strangeness I’ve witnessed?
“Uhm, hi,” I said. “I’m Michael.”
The bat snorted. “I know that. Now do you accept the Pact?”
I blinked again. “Pact?” I asked stupidly. “What Pact?”
Before the small skeleton could answer, the Master resumed speaking. “Before you candidates, you will find the familiar I provide each of you with. The creatures will guide and assist you in your journey through the dungeon. And in return for this: I ask nothing. I’ve unblocked your access to the Adjudicator. Turn your focus inwards and query the Game. You will find the terms of the Pact just as I’ve described. Read it and accept my generous offer.”
I did as the Master asked and more words unfolded in my mind.
Gnat, a level 20 skeletal bat offers you a Pact. If you accept the Pact, for the duration of your time together, Gnat will serve as your familiar and boost your death magic skill by +1 rank. Your familiar cannot participate in combat or defend you in any way. This Pact may be terminated at any time by either party.
Do you accept Gnat’s offer?
Ignoring the strangeness of the Game speaking in my mind again, I chewed over the information it had provided. One particular aspect fascinated me beyond all else.
Magic.
The Game’s message implied that in this world, I could cast spells. Despite my concern about entering a dungeon, or my worry that I was the blackest of souls indelibly tainted by evil, the thought that I had magic sparked a joy in me that I found hard to stem. Somehow, I knew that I had never wielded magic before and the thought of doing it on this world excited me no end.
“Magic,” I breathed to Gnat. “Your Pact will let me cast spells?”
The skeletal bobbed in the air. “No, human. I cannot give you what you already have. I sense a deep well of mana at your spirit’s center. You possess magic already. You only have to unlock it, and the Game will allow you do to that without my aid. What I offer through the Pact is the means to advance your necromancy skill beyond levels you could normally. Now do you accept my offer?”
Struggling to contain my excitement, I considered the terms of the Pact again as carefully as I could. The wording seemed simple enough, and I could spot nothing suspicious, or anything that hinted at a hidden meaning. Finding no reason to do otherwise, I voiced my assent. “I accept your bargain.”
You have sealed a Pact with a level 20 skeletal bat. Gnat is now your familiar. You have gained the trait: undead familiar. This trait increases your necromancy skill cap by: +1 rank.
On the tail end of my words, Gnat glided forward and alighted on my shoulder.
Turning to study him, I asked. “What now?”
The bat shrugged its tiny wings. “We wait for the others. Once they are done, the Master will give us further instruction.”
Scanning the chamber, I saw that many of my fellow candidates were still conversing with the creatures that hovered before them. A few had already sealed their Pacts and like me were gazing about the room.
I turned back to my familiar. “What can you tell me about the Grand Game?”
Gnat laughed. “What can I not tell you? All that I know of the Game could fit a dozen books twice over. You will learn more soon enough. Be patient.”
I narrowed my eyes. “At least tell me about the dungeon we are about to enter.”
“I know little of the how the dungeon has been configured,” Gnat said. “No one does. Except for the Master, of course.”
I sighed.
“There is one bit of advice I can give you though,” Gnat continued.
“What?” I asked eagerly.
“Don’t die. You will not enjoy the experience,” he said with a snicker of amusement.
I blew out a frustrated breath and turned away to consider the strange world I found myself in. If the Adjudicator was to be believed, I had chosen to enter the Forever Kingdom.
Why did I do so? I wondered. And could I carve out a life for myself on this world? If so, what sort of life would it be? Bowing my head, I lost myself in contemplation of the future.
It was a good few minutes before the murmur of conversation in the room died down again. When it did, I saw, that but for a handful of the candidates, everyone else had accepted the Pacts offered to them by their skeletal companions.
“Excellent,” the Master said, sounding pleased. “Now as to the details of the task before you. It is simply this: find your way out to the world above. While you venture through the dungeon, you will come across further Class stones beyond the initial one you will obtain in the next room. Each of these will grant you a Class. To reveal the dungeon’s exit portal, you will need to fill all three of your Class slots. If you are confused as to my meaning, ask your familiar after you’ve chosen your primary Class.”
I frowned. If I understood the Master, as a player I would have three separate Classes. How to choose them though? And were there any synergies between the Classes that I could exploit? These thoughts ran through my mind of their own accord, leading me to believe that whoever I had been in my previous life, I was no novice player.
Perhaps, I am more suited to this world and its Grand Game than I think.
“Our time together has come to an end,” the Master said. “We will not see each other again, not unless you successfully navigate through the dungeon and graduate as players. One final word before I release you: there are no rules in the dungeon. I care not if you work together — or against each other.”
The Master chuckled. “You may find that killing your fellow candidates will net you more experience than slaying the dungeon’s inhabitants. So, murder whomever you please. It will be all the more amusing to watch. But wait until you enter the dungeon before you embark on your sprees of mayhem.” The Master’s voice turned harsh. “I will not tolerate any killings within my domain.”
I shivered, not quite able to believe what the Master was encouraging us to do. Warily, I gazed to my left and right, and found my fellows likewise eying me suspiciously.
Which amongst them will try to murder me? I wondered. And could I stomach attempting to kill them in turn?
“Now if you will,” the Master said, “make your way to the next room and choose your primary Class. Good luck candidates, and my fortune favor your Game.” With his piece said, the Master rose in the air and vanished into the shadows concealing the chamber’s roof.
Setting aside my disquiet, I rose to my feet and studied the room again. The Master’s parting words had created a renewed stir amongst the candidates, and all around me I saw people banding together as they sought safety in numbers.
How long have the others been here? I wondered. Judging by some of the conversations floating around me, many of the candidates appeared very at ease with each other. Enough so that they were willing to trust their companions to guard their backs against the others.
It was only I — the newcomer — that was a stranger to all. I grimaced. Alone, or in a group, I will survive, I vowed.
Stepping around the still-forming parties, I joined the line leading to the room’s far exit. As I did so, around the corner of my eye, I noticed Stayne leaving his place by the entrance and moving into the chamber.
Tilting my head slightly, I observed the skeleton. Moving unhurriedly, Stayne pulled a candidate out of the line. She was one of those who had rejected the Pact, I noted.
Stayne herded the woman to a vacant spot near the chamber’s entrance and left her standing there in confusion while he moved again to the line and gazed searchingly along its length. I studied the skeleton intently, watching to see what he would do, but I passed through the exit before I could see if he pulled anyone else from the line.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what Stayne was about.
Chapter 005: The Master’s Gifts
The room beyond was as large as first chamber, but unlike the one before, it was not empty of furnishings. Stalls lined nearly the entirety of the room. Each overflowed with items and was manned by a single unclothed skeleton.
Before I could move further into the room to explore its depths, I was stopped at the door by another skeleton.
“Stop,” the figure commanded. Whereas the other undead in the room wore little in the way of clothes, the one who had intercepted me was fully dressed in shoes, pants, shirt, and cloak. Everything he wore was some shade of red, even the staff he twirled in his hands was crimson.
As I turned his way, he beckoned me. “Come here human.”
Curiously, I stepped up to him.
“Hold out your hand,” he demanded.
I stared at him, making no move to comply.
“Do it,” Gnat hissed. “The gate keeper only means to issue you with the Master’s tokens. You will need them to buy your Class stone and other items from the vendors.”
I glanced from the bat on my shoulder to the stalls, having an inkling now as to what purpose they served. I held out my hand. Immediately the gate keeper dropped three chips of black glass into my outstretched palm.
Curiously, I peered at the small polished bits of glass that I held. They looked to be made from obsidian and stamped in the center of each was what appeared to be a crow. I drew one up for closer inspection. The details included in the crow was exquisite. Somehow the artist had managed —
“Enough gawking!” the red-clothed figure snapped. “Off with you now, you’re holding up the line.”
I clenched my fist around the tokens and glared at the gate keeper before moving away to drift amongst the stalls.
The first stall I stopped at was laden with plate armor: legs, arms, gloves, helms, and breastplates. Each piece seemed to be formed from steel and appeared to be poorly made — to my eye at least. I raised my gaze to the stall’s vendor. His gleaming red eyes seemed to be bright with excitement.
“Ah a customer,” the merchant said. “What can I help you with, sir?”
I waved my hands across the untidy heap of armor. “How does all this work?”
“Its simplicity itself,” the merchant said, rubbing his hands together. “In exchange for one of the Master’s tokens, you may take any one piece of armor.”
In the act of picking up a helm for closer inspection, I paused. “One piece only?” I asked disbelievingly. “Not an entire set?”
The skeleton chuckled. “No, no, no. Of course not. For that you would need far more tokens.”
I pulled back my hands and folded them behind my back. Considering that I only had three tokens, I was not going to waste any of them on a single armor piece. I glanced at the nearby stalls. Some were filled with weapons, others with shields, some with scrolls, and yet others with trinkets and jewelry.
Walking away from the armor vendor, I headed towards a weapon merchant’s stall, but was stopped as Gnat spoke up. “Human, I would not purchase any items until you’ve chosen your Class.”
“Why is that?” I asked, coming to a halt.
“Every item has a skill pre-requisite which you must meet in order to equip it, and it is your Class that determines what skills you will have access to.”
I nodded. I didn’t have to ask Gnat what he meant by skills. Somehow, I understood what they were already. I really must have been a player in my previous life, I thought.
“How many skills do I get from my Class?” I asked.
“Classes come in three tiers: basic, advanced, and master,” Gnat said. “Basic Classes give you access to three starting skills.”
My brows rose in surprise. That number of skills appeared low. “Only three?” I murmured. “You said starting skills though. Can I get more eventually?”
“You can,” Gnat answered. “Through skillbooks, you can add three additional skills to your Class.”
“I see,” I said. And I thought I did. The Class stones only started a player down a specific development path, it did not completely define him. Something else occurred to me. “Do the other Class tiers grant more starting skills?”
“They do,” Gant confirmed. “But for your primary Class you may only choose a basic Class.”
“Hmm,” I mused, rubbing at my chin. Recalling the Master’s words from earlier, I sought my familiar’s confirmation, “I can have three Classes, right?”
“That is correct, human,” Gnat said. “Every player can have a primary, secondary, and tertiary Class.”
“Call me Michael,” I said absently.
“As you wish,” the skeletal bat replied.
I closed my eyes, thinking. Seeing as how I would only enter the dungeon with a single Class, there was no need to deliberate on my choice of secondary and tertiary Classes right now, and I dismissed them from my thoughts. I would consider them later once I understood this world far better than I did now.
What mattered now was that I would only have three skills available when I entered the dungeon. That more than anything else would determine the strategy I pursued. Gnat is right, I thought. Before purchasing any items, I needed to select my Class.
I opened my eyes. “Where is the Class vendor?”
There was already a queue at the Class vendor when I got there. I got in line and waited patiently as it moved slowly forward.
While I waited for my chance with the merchant, I turned to my familiar. It was time to find out more about what it meant to be a player in the Grand Game.
“So, Gnat,” I began, “besides Classes and skills, what other characteristics do players have?”
“Attributes,” Gnat grunted. “And before you ask me what they are, you can find out for yourself. Just ask your Adjudicator.”
I tilted my head to the side while I considered the bat’s response. Why not? I wondered. Turning my attention inwards, I blanked my mind and focused on a single thought: attributes.
To my surprise, my efforts yielded a response and a window unfurled in my mind.
Player Profile: Michael
Level: 1. Rank: 0. Current Health: 100%.
Stamina: 100%. Mana: 100%. Psi: 100%.
Species: Human. Lives Remaining: 3.
Classes: 0 of 3. Traits: undead familiar.
Skills: none. Abilities: 0 of 0.
Attributes
Strength: 0. Constitution: 0. Dexterity: 0.
Perception: 0. Mind: 0. Magic: 0. and Faith: 0.
Every skill and ability is governed by one of the seven attributes. They in turn act as a cap on both your skills and the number of abilities you can learn. For every rank you invest in an attribute, you can advance your skill level by ten, and acquire one more ability.
Strength is an attribute that primarily influences a player’s ability with heavy and medium weapons. Each rank you invest in Strength also increases your carrying capacity by: +10kg.
First and foremost, Dexterity determines a player’s ability with light weapons and evasive combat maneuvers. Each rank in Dexterity also improves your speed by: +1.
Perception influences a player’s accuracy with ranged weapons, as well as his ability to anticipate his opponents’ moves and sense oddities in the surroundings.
Constitution enables players to increase their physical damage resistance, while Mind determines a player’s ability with psionic skills and abilities. Similarly, Magic influences the power of a player’s elemental spells, and Faith the strength of a players holy, unholy, necromancy and life spells.
I exhaled a troubled breath as I tried to absorb the small avalanche of information the Game had thrown my way. More surprisingly, despite all the jargon, I was able to make sense of the Adjudicator’s message.
Its gamers speak, something told me.
After I worked through the information, I turned to my familiar again. “Gnat,” I said slowly, “if I understand correctly, attributes limit skill growth. Correct?”
“That’s right,” the bat said.
I frowned, puzzled. “Then, even if my Class unlocks new skills, how do I increase them without any starting attributes? They’re all zero!”
Gnat chuckled. “All basic Classes come with a trait that boosts one or more attribute.”
I rubbed my chin, initial worry subsiding. For a moment, I had feared I was an irretrievably broken character. “Do all players start with zero attributes?” I asked after a moment.
“They do,” my familiar confirmed.
That at least seemed fair. “Besides Class traits, how else can I earn attribute ranks?” I asked.
“At every new player level, you will gain one attribute point to spend as you desire,” Gnat said.
I winced. “Only one?”
The skeletal bat nodded.
That sounds harsh, I thought. It meant I would have to deliberate long and hard on how I invested my attribute points. I could not afford to waste any. “Is there any other way to earn more attributes?” I asked.
“Attribute gems can be found in dungeons, and other places in the Forever Kingdom,” Gnat said. “But don’t count on finding any,” he warned. “They are exceedingly rare.”
Hmm. “And what’s this bit about ‘remaining lives’? What does it mean?”
Gnat stared at me. “Exactly what it says, human. You have only three chances to prove yourself.”
I didn’t like the sound of that ‘only.’ It implied that the dungeon would be exceedingly dangerous. “So if I die, I will be reborn? Is that it?”
Gnat nodded. “You will. But as I said before, you will not enjoy the experience. It is said to be exceedingly painful.”
“And what happens after I die three times?” I asked.
“Then you be dead — permanently,” Gnat said. “And your spirit will belong to the Master to do as he pleases. Our lord may choose to raise up your spirit anew as an undead.” The skeletal bat’s eyes glinted. “Or gift it to one whom he favors.”
I shuddered. Seeing the eager gleam in the Gnat’s eyes, I didn’t ask what the one so-favored would do with my spirit. I suspected it would be nothing good.
I glanced at the candidates in front of and behind me in the line. Some looked excited, others nervous, and a few downright terrified. “How many of us can expect to emerge alive from the dungeon?” I asked Gnat soberly. I didn’t think it would be a lot.
“No more than a handful,” Gnat said. “And that is under the best of circumstances. Whatever happens in the coming days, the Master’s servants will feed well.”
I gulped. My chances of surviving in this new world seemed slim at best, and I wondered anew what had possessed me to enter it. But there was no more time for further talk. I had reached the front of the line.
I sucked in a deep breath. It was time to begin playing the Game and forging myself into a player. Whatever happened, I would not go quietly to my death.
I will win free of this dungeon, I promised myself.
The Class merchant did not bother to look at me when I stood in front of his table. Like the gate keeper, he was fully clothed too, but less garishly. His clothes were shaded in muted tones of grey and brown. A hood concealed his face and gloves hid his hands. I assumed that, like all the Master’s other servants, he was an undead, but I couldn’t be sure.
With his head still bowed, the cowled figure reached into the bag hanging off his chair back and picked out three small objects. He placed them on the table and said, “On the table before you, you will find three Class stones. Pick one. But before you do that, drop the Master’s token into the chest on the right.”
I glanced at the table. Arrayed on it were three gleaming marbles of solid bronze. They had to be the Class stones. Each marble was indistinguishable from the others and provided no indication of the Class it contained.
I frowned. “How am I to choose?” I asked. “I don’t know what Class each offers.”
“Query the Adjudicator,” the merchant said disinterestedly. “Now hurry up, I have more customers waiting.”
After a moment of frosty silence, I did as the merchant bade, and willed the Game to reveal more on the three objects before me. This time, I was unsurprised when it responded.
This stone contains the path of: a warrior. The warrior is a basic Class that confers a player with three skills: a heavy weapon skill of the player’s choice, an armor skill of the player’s choice, and a shield skill of the player’s choice. This Class also permanently boosts your Strength attribute by: +1, and your Constitution attribute by: +1.
This stone contains the path of: a scout. The scout is a basic Class that confers a player with three skills: dodging sneaking, and a light weapon skill of the player’s choice. This Class also permanently boosts your Dexterity attribute by: +2.
This stone contains the path of: a caster. The caster is a basic Class that confers a player with three skills: wands, necromancy, and fire magic. This Class also permanently boosts your Mind attribute by: +1, and your Faith attribute by: +1.
“Well,” I breathed. All three Classes were strangely familiar. I had seen them before or something very similar to them. The knowledge struck a chord within me and a nugget of information from my past revealed itself.
“I was a gamer,” I murmured.
“What’s that?” Gnat asked, pinning me with his gaze.
“Nothing,” I muttered. Suddenly, I was certain that I had never been part of the Grand Game before, but from whichever world I had come from, I had spent countless hours playing in games of similar nature.
Perhaps that is why I choose to enter this world. A world itself that was a game? The very idea would have been intoxicating.
While I was uncertain how much my former gaming knowledge would aid me, I knew to a large extent it already had, helping me understand the Adjudicator’s, Gant’s and even the Master’s explanations about the Forever Kingdom.
I realized something else too. Even though I did not remember exactly where my knowledge of the Grand Game sprung from, I could — and should — trust my instincts to guide me.
I glanced back at the three Class stones. So what are you instincts telling you now, Michael?
Naturally, my first inclination was to pick the path of a caster. Undeniably, magic appealed to me. Still, I could not be hasty. I could only have three Classes, and for better or worse, my choice now would likely determine my fate in the near-future.
Closing my eyes, I quietened my mind, and let whatever knowledge that lurked deep in my subconscious to rise to the fore.
Casters are usually weak early game.
The thought dropped into my consciousness with startling quickness, and I frowned as I considered it. It rang true. I took in the room again. I was still the only candidate not obviously part of a group. If I was going to venture into the dungeon alone — which at this point seemed likely — I could not afford to do so with a Class that hampered me further. I bit my lip. As much as I wanted magic, I knew with certainty that now was the right time.
Casters also depend heavily on their spells.
And spells were something else, I would lack early on. If I understood how abilities and attributes were related in this Game, if I chose the caster Class, until I gained more levels I would only have two spells at my disposal: one faith-based and the other magic-based.
With a sigh, I quenched the urge to take up the caster Class stone and turned my attention to the other two marbles: the ones containing the path of the warrior and the scout. Neither particularly appealed to me. I glanced at the open bag hanging by the merchant’s side and caught a glimpse of more bronze marbles within it.
“Why these Classes?” I asked abruptly. “Are they the only basic Classes you have to offer?”
“What?” the merchant asked finally looking up.
The skin on the merchant’s face was pale, pockmarked, and… rippled. He was not a skeleton, but he was undeniably undead. Looking closer, I saw that the open wounds on the undead’s face was filled with wriggling maggots.
Urgh. I bit back my revulsion and fought my instinctive desire to step back. Is he a ghoul? I wondered.
“What?” the merchant repeated, scowling at my poorly concealed disgust.
Breaking off from my rapt study of the undead’s rippling face, I pointed to his bag. “Do those other stones contain different Classes?”
“They do,” the merchant replied. “What of it?”
“Then I’d like to see some other options,” I said politely.
The merchant spat, sending a glob of spit and wriggling maggots my way.
I barely dodged the disgusting projectile in time. “What was that for?” I asked with a scowl of my own.
“That was for you thinking I will entertain your foolish wishes. You will choose from the choices before you, or not at all!”
My jaw dropped open. “That’s ridiculous!” I said. “It’s not as if I am asking you to — ”
“Shut up, mortal!” the merchant broke in. “The Master only contracted me to provide you fleshlings with three choices. Having to deal with your kind is disgusting enough, I will not lower myself further to bargaining with you.” With every word he uttered, the merchant’s voice rose an octave, and by now every gaze in the room was fixed on me and the irate undead.
“Now make your choice or begone!” the merchant hissed.
Shaken by the unexpected confrontation, I looked unsteadily from the merchant to my fellow companions. Many were glaring at me in anger, and I heard not a few choice curses flung my way. Turning slowly on my heels, I walked away from the stall.
“Don’t think if you come back, you will be offered a different choice!” the undead yelled after me.
Ignoring him, I kept walking, wondering as I did what I was going to do now.
Chapter 008: A Shrewd Strategy
I toured the rest of the room, drifting passed the other stalls while I regained my mental equilibrium. The confrontation with the merchant had shocked me badly, and hinted at some deep-seated resentment on the undead’s part.
Was it only towards me that the merchant’s anger was directed? Or all ‘fleshlings’ as he had referred to us? Whatever the case, I knew I could not afford to anger the Class vendor again. My walk through the room had confirmed he was the only one offering Class stones.
There was no way I could enter the dungeon without skills of some kind. If I did that, I was sure I would die quickly and repeatedly. I sighed. One way or the other, I would have to return to the ghoulish merchant. But before I did that, I decided, I would take the time to study my fellow candidates and observe their choices first.
The others moved together in groups as small as three to ones as large as twenty. Some were confident and strutted arrogantly, while others appeared nervous and indecisive. But as I perused the goods the many merchants had on offer, I noticed none of my fellows dared to question the Class vendor or refuse to make a Class choice.
After selecting their Classes, the crowd of candidates moved to the equipment vendors, and began equipping themselves with sword, shields, axes, and wands. Much to my surprise, some of the groups pooled their tokens together and fully kitted only a single member — usually in plate armor, and with the clear intention of making the chosen one the party’s tank.
I shook my head. It was a bold strategy, but I couldn’t see myself placing that much trust in another, especially after all the Master’s talk of player kills yielding more experience. Still, it was their folly to commit. Idly, I followed one such party as they made their way to the room’s far end.
It had been my initial plan to enter the dungeon as quickly as I could, to run ahead of the pack so to speak. But with me not having chosen a Class yet, that was no longer an option. And truth be told, as a solo player, I wasn’t sure how wise that option would have been in the first place.
Racing ahead of the other candidates might have given me the first stab at the best loot in the dungeon, but it also meant I would have been forced to face the dungeon’s many perils first while also constantly being on the lookout for attacks from the rear from my ‘fellows.’
As I thought further on it, I decided that the much better strategy would be to stay at the back of the pack, especially considering how dangerous Gnat had hinted the dungeon was. From the rear, I wouldn’t have to worry about being hunted from behind, and while those ahead might out-level me, I would at least be able to explore the dungeon at a slower and more cautious pace.
Slow and steady is the wiser approach, I concluded.
With my course decided, I watched the party of eight — a clanking tank and, by the look of the wands the others carried, seven casters — enter the dungeon through one of six open doors set in far wall of the chamber. A shimmering curtain of white crackling energy hung within all the doorways.
“What is that inside those doors, Gnat?” I asked.
“Those are the portals to the dungeon section allocated for the Master’s trial,” the skeletal bat replied.
“Portals?” I asked.
The familiar nodded. “The dungeon does not truly lie adjacent to the Master’s domain. When you step through one of the doorways, you will be teleported to one of the Axis of Evil’s sectors in the Endless Dungeon.”
“What is the Endless Dungeon?” I asked in confusion.
“The Forever Kingdom is formed of two realms,” Gnat answered. “The aboveground world, loosely referred to as the Kingdoms and the subterranean world in which we are in now, called the Netherworld. The Netherworld stretches nearly the breadth of the Forever Kingdom and is almost wholly made up of the Endless Dungeon, so named, because as yet, no one has been able to plumb it depths.”
“I see,” I said. “And do all six doorways lead into the same area of the Endless Dungeon?”
“They will all lead to the same sector,” Gnat replied. “But at different starting locations.”
I nodded thoughtfully, and leaning against an adjacent wall where I had clear line of sight of the six doorways, I set myself to observe my fellows making their way into the dungeon, and in particular though which doors each party ventured.
~~~
A good few hours later, I was still observing the stream of candidates making their way into the dungeon. Many threw me suspicious looks as they entered the dungeon, but I ignored their glares and kept as careful a tally as I could of which parties entered which doorway.
As the time passed, my familiar got increasing upset with my inactivity. “When will you enter the dungeon, human?” he inquired querulously. He had stopped calling me by name as his frustration grew. “I assure you the Master will be most displeased if you fail to the attempt the trial he has set you.”
“Relax Gnat,” I said. “I told you I will enter. Just not right yet.”
“When?” he demanded.
“After the last party of candidates goes through,” I repeated. And when I can be sure none of others are waiting behind to ambush me.
“There are no more candidates in the room,” Gnat hissed. “Soon the merchants will begin closing their stalls. You best hurry if you intend on entering the dungeon.”
Turning around, I saw to my surprise that the skeletal bat was right. I had been so focused on watching the dungeon entrances, I had lost track of the state of the room behind me.
I kicked off the wall. “Alright Gnat, let’s get shopping. Then we begin our dungeon crawl.”
“You again,” the ghoul muttered.
“Me again,” I agreed, standing in front of the Class vendor.
The undead merchant looked at me suspiciously. “So are you going to buy something this time, or just stand around and complain?”
Rather that attempt to debate his unjust statement, I only nodded agreeably. “I am ready to choose my Class.”
The ghoul reached into his bag again. This time instead of placing the first bronze marbles he withdrew onto the table, he sniffed each carefully until the found the three particular stones he searched for. Once the merchant was satisfied, he arranged them in front of me. “Choose then.”
I inspected the three Class stones. Unsurprisingly, I saw they contained the same Classes I had rejected earlier, but I had already made my peace with that and was ready to choose.
Given that I had already ruled out the caster Class as an option, my next inclination was to go with the path of a warrior. Fighters, I knew, were powerful early on, even if they were usually less so end-game when casters came into their own.
But after giving the matter much thought, I had decided that becoming a warrior would be as much a mistake as picking the caster Class. Primarily, this was because a fighter was usually only as good as his gear, and seeing as how I would only be able to buy two pieces of equipment, I realized I would be exceptionally underdressed for my venture into the dungeon.
On the other hand, a scout was far less dependent on equipment. As a scout, I would have the dodging and sneaking skills at my disposal. With those skills I would have a good chance at surviving most encounters — when I wasn’t able to avoid them altogether.
Or so I hoped.
The path of the scout was not ideal, and ordinarily I suspected I wouldn’t have chosen it, but given the options in front of me, I thought it gave me the best chance of surviving until I could pick up a second Class. I would make sure, I assured myself, that my choice of secondary Class was one less constrained by necessity.
“Well?” the ghoul barked, interrupting my musing.
I shook my head to clear it. Dropping one of the Master’s obsidian glass chips into the merchant’s coin chest, I picked up the bronze marble containing the path of the scout. “I’ll take this one.”
The merchant only grunted in response and began packing up his stall.
I held the marble in my hand, wondering what came next. I was about to turn to Gnat for advice, when I felt the bronze stone turn warm.
Glancing down, I saw the stone turn misshapen, before melting entirely to vanish beneath my skin. “What in the world — ” I began.
I broke off as the Adjudicator spoke in my mind again.
You have acquired the scout Class. You have gained the trait: nimble. This trait increases your Dexterity by: +2 ranks. Your level cap for dexterity-based skills has increased to: 20. You have gained two basic skills: dodging and sneaking. Choose your light weapon skill from the list of those available.
Following the Adjudicator’s words, a long line of text scrolled through my mind: light weapon skills. All of them were familiar, and matched one or the other of the weapons I had seen in the vendors’ stalls.
Curiously though, some of the skills were labelled as ‘advanced.’ “Gnat, are their different grades of skills?”
The skeletal bat nodded. “Yes. As with Classes, skills can belong to any one of three tiers: basic, advanced, and master.”
“Hmm,” I murmured. Just on principle, I was tempted to choose one of the advanced light weapon skills — like the one labelled kukri — but while the idea of having an advanced skill was nice, some instinct warned me that such skills were matched with weapons that were usually rare or hard to come by.
I will be more likely to find a common dagger or short sword than a kukri in the dungeon, I thought.
Considering that whatever choice I made would be my only weapon skill until I picked up another Class, I decided to go my original choice of short swords.
You have gained the basic skill: shortswords. Initial scout Class configuration complete. Remaining Class skill slots: 3. To gain further Class traits, advance your Class rank.
Hmm, advance my Class… That sounded interesting, but I left off further deliberation of the matter for later. Now that I had my Class, I was eager to begin my journey in the dungeon.
Whistling soundlessly, I strolled to the weapons vendor I had picked out earlier.
~~~
Even as I took my first steps as a scout, I sensed something different about myself. My stride was surer, my feet bounced lightly off the ground, and my body felt far more coordinated.
Extraordinary, I thought. The effect, I knew, had to be a result of the two additional ranks in Dexterity that the Class had given me. On a whim, I tensed my haunches, and launched myself upwards into the air.
And executed a perfect backflip.
“Wow,” I breathed in awe as I landed back on my feet. I was amazed that I had managed to pull off the maneuver. Adrenaline surged through me and my heart beat rapidly. It had been exhilarating.
As dangerous as this Grand Game appears to be, perhaps, there will be aspects of it that I will come to enjoy.
I turned my mind to the other ‘gifts,’ the Class had given me. Merely thinking about the three new skills was enough to trigger an avalanche of data into my mind. The information felt at one time both foreign and familiar.
Instinctively, I dropped into a crouch and padded forward stealthily.
You have failed to conceal yourself from the nearby entities. You have failed to advance your sneaking: skills cannot be gained in this area.
Despite my failure, I laughed. “Incredible,” I chuckled.
“If you are done playing,” Gnat said acerbically. “We best get moving before all the vendors leave.”
I smiled at the skeletal bat. Not even my familiar’s sour words could destroy my happy mood.
“Alright, let’s go,” I said.
~~~
You have acquired a basic steel shortsword. This item increases the damage you deal by: 10%.
You have acquired a common thief’s cloak. This item increases your sneaking skill by: +3 when in dark environments.
I used my last two tokens from the Master to buy a basic weapon and the item of clothing that I felt would best suit my skill set. I secured the sword around my hip with the belt and scabbard that it came with it, and draped the cloak over my shoulders. So equipped, I padded towards dungeon’s entrance.
I was finally ready to enter its depths.
I choose the portal that I had seen the least number of large groups go through, and stepped in front of its door.
I studied the shimmering curtain of white in the doorway, suddenly nervous. “Ready Gnat?” I asked.
The skeletal bat snorted. “Of course.” The familiar eyed me sideways. “You on the other hand, don’t appear to be so sure anymore.”
I shifted from foot to foot. Gnat was right. Now that the moment had arrived, I felt fear stir within me at the thought of deliberately putting myself in a life and death situation.
No doubt about it: I was scared. The fear is natural, I told myself. I would be a fool not to be scared. But even knowing all that to be true, I still couldn’t force my feet forward.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Thus far, I hadn’t questioned too closely anything the Master had said, or the circumstances I found myself in. Mostly, because I was afraid I wouldn’t like the answers.
I had just kept moving forward because so much of what I had been asked to do seemed so familiar, and because it was easier to do as I was told rather than fight against the tide. But, I thought, if I survive what comes next, that has to change.
I wasn’t sure I trusted the Master.
I had many unanswered questions about who he was and what he asked of us. Yet, here, in what appeared to be the heart of his domain, I didn’t think I would find the answers I desired. But in the dungeon… There, I would be out from under the Master’s thumb, and perhaps I could forge my own path.
Either way, whether to follow the Master’s path or create my own, I have to enter the dungeon.
I opened my eyes. Right. Enough delaying. Exhaling a heavy breath, I stepped forward through the portal.
~~~
You have entered sector 14,913 of the Endless Dungeon. This area has been previously explored and is presently under the control of the Axis of Evil. This sector is a closed region, cordoned off from the rest of the dungeon. It was last populated 8 hours ago by denizens of the Dark. Recommended player levels: 1 to 20. Recommended party size: 4 to 6.
You have been allocated a new task: Escape the Dungeon. Your objective is to fill all 3 of your Class slots. Once you have done so, the location of the sector’s exit portal will be revealed, and you may make your way to the aboveground world.
Coming out of the portal, I dropped down into a crouch. A swift glance revealed I was in a small chamber. Moving quickly, I padded away from the entrance and into the room’s darkest corner.
You and your familiar are hidden.
Safely concealed, I took stock of my surroundings once more. Large cobwebs draped the room’s ceiling and walls. Other than the still-glowing portal, there was no other light source in the chamber. The floor was paved by granite flagstones and the walls were formed from rough-cut bricks. There was an open door at the room’s far end, and beyond it, I spied a long corridor extending away.
Most gratifying of all, the room was empty.
The tension in my shoulders eased as I realized this. Rising to my feet, I unwrapped my fingers from the hilt of my shortsword.
I was safe. For now.
I glanced at my familiar. All this time, he had not moved from his roost on my shoulder. He had kept his presence so still and small I had almost forgotten about him. Only belatedly did it occur to me to wonder if my sneaking skill would apply to Gnat, but it had worked to cloak his presence too too — which was a relief.
My relief was short-lived though as another worrying thought occurred to me. “Gnat, I used my sneaking skill to hide, didn’t I?”
“You did,” the bat confirmed.
I frowned. “Then why didn’t my skill improve? Surely at my low level, even a single successful use should’ve been enough to advance it?”
“Skills only advance in level when employed in combat, or when used in the presence of hostiles,” Gnat replied.
“Oh,” I said, my lips turning down. It had been in the back of my mind to try training my skills before engaging in combat, but that didn’t seem possible.
Seeing my disappointment, Gnat laughed. “You didn’t think levelling would be that easy, did you?”
Ignoring my familiar’s amusement, I returned my attention to the surroundings. I walked to the center of the room and spun in a slow circle. Nothing further of interest revealed itself. Alright then, I thought. Time to move beyond.
Hunching down, I tiptoed to the room’s only exit and peered cautiously around the doorway. The corridor extended for a hundred yards before ending at another wooden door, which appeared ajar, but from this distance, I couldn’t be certain.
The corridor itself appeared empty of threat. Firelight blazed golden from the torches affixed to the walls along both sides of the passage. I grimaced. As brightly lit as the corridor was, I doubted I would be able to conceal my presence once I stepped down its length.
Even though the corridor appeared safe, at equidistant intervals between the torches, doorways gaped open. Anything could be in the rooms they led into. But the only way, I was going to find out what lay inside them, was by venturing down the passage.
I shifted restlessly. Entering the corridor will be dangerous. I almost snorted in amusement at the thought. This is a dungeon, Michael. You didn’t think it would be safe, did you?
Alright, alright, I thought and shifted forward. Then paused, as a thought occurred to me. I glanced at my familiar. “Gnat, how silent can you be?” I whispered.
The skeletal bat eyed me suspiciously. “Why?”
I gestured to the first door on the right side of the corridor. It was less than ten yards award. “Go scout that room.”
My familiar stared at me for a long moment, seeming to search for a reason why he shouldn’t or couldn’t do as I asked.
I waited.
Eventually, Gnat rose wordlessly off my shoulder. Flapping hard, he winged his way to the ceiling before gliding silently along its length and into the room I had picked out.
Clenching my sword hilt tightly, I counted off the doorways in the corridor while I waited for Gnat’s report. There were thirteen in total.
It did not take the bat long to emerge from the first room. Flying swiftly, Gnat shot out of the chamber, but instead of returning to my shoulder, he flew into the next doorway. A few seconds later, my familiar reappeared before disappearing again into another room.
Understanding what Gnat was about, I waited patiently for him to be done. Shortly thereafter, the skeletal bat flew out the last of the passage’s doorways and dropped onto my shoulder. “They’re all empty,” he reported laconically.
I waited for him to go on, but when he didn’t, I prompted, “And?”
“And it looks like a few candidate parties have already been through the rooms,” Gnat answered.
My eyes narrowed. “How can you tell?”
Gnat shrugged. “Go see for yourself.”
Frowning at my familiar’s non-answer, I rose to my feet, intent on doing just that.
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