Grand Game 609: On Patrol

In the end, I decided to advance.

It was a risk, yes, but I had Tosh and his passcodes, and at best, they would only be valid for another eight hours. Once the Lightsworn changed them, there was no guarantee I would be able to blood-bind another Tosh or even have the time to do so.

No, now was likely my best—and perhaps only—opportunity to investigate the Dark encampment. There was no point wasting it.

“You’re right,” I replied in belated response to Tosh’s earlier question. “The time for hiding is done.” Swinging off the branch, I dropped lightly onto the ground and let the shadows wrapped around me unravel.

You are no longer hidden.

Tosh followed suit, and a moment later, the pair of us stood in plain sight on the forest floor.

“You know the plan,” I told him softly. “Lead the way.”

Wordlessly, the rogue brushed past me, striding north. Following on his heels, I did my best to appear nonchalant. It would not be long now before—

“Halt!”

Tosh and I stilled as a Lightsworn patrol, ten strong, emerged from the underbrush to the west. Moving with practiced ease, they enveloped us in a half-circle. Tosh and I stayed motionless, doing nothing to deter them. Stepping forward, and with his hand resting casually on the pommel of his sword, the sergeant in charge eyed us carefully.

But there was nothing about our appearance to raise his suspicions. Like Tosh, I was dressed in white garments—one of the rogue’s spare uniforms to be sure—and with my Marks altered I was just another Lightsworn. Truly, there was no reason for the sergeant to be concerned.

No reason at all.

Keep telling yourself that, I told myself as the seconds ticked by and the patrol’s silent regard continued unabated.

“State your names, ranks, and camp of origin,” the sergeant barked finally.

I didn’t shift nor show any outward sign, but internally I felt my tension dissipate. My disguise had just passed its first test.

“Tosh and Flynn,” my companion replied, speaking up for both of us as we agreed he would earlier. “We’re senior scouts from Camp Kappa.”

Which was true enough, as far as it applied to enslaved rogue, anyway.

“And today’s passcodes?” the sergeant demanded, his demeanor still unbending.

Tosh rattled off a series of meaningless phrases and numbers.

I could tell immediately he’d gotten them right, as the sergeant’s stance eased. “Right you are,” he said affably. “So, what are you fellows doing out here all alone?”

Tosh shrugged. “Scouting. We’ve just come from down south.”

There was nothing unusual about scouts travelling alone or in pairs, and the rogue’s response should pass unremarked—which it did.

“Huh,” the sergeant grunted. “Why are you this far west then? You’re nowhere near Kappa.”

“Oh, we’re not headed back to camp yet,” Tosh replied easily. “The mission’s not over yet.” He gestured vaguely northward. “After the stunt the Darksworn pulled last night, the higher ups want answers. They want to know how the bastards got as far as they did.”

The sergeant’s head swung from south to north. “You’re retracing their steps?” he guessed.

Tosh nodded. “That’s right.”

The Darksworn that both the sergeant and the rogue were alluding to were the same group I’d run across this morning. According to Tosh, they had been attempting to sneak into one of the Light camps and had slipped past multiple defensive layers before eventually being detected. They were not the first Darksworn company to try a stealth attack, nor were they likely to be the last, but Muriel’s people insisted on investigating every attempted ‘incursion.’

The sergeant’s gaze flickered to me. “What about you? Nothing to add?”

“Nope,” I replied lazily, not bothering to expand.

The sergeant frowned.

Tosh edged closer to the Lightsworn officer. “He’s a specialist,” he explained in a voice too low for the rest of the squad to overhear. “A sniffer. Don’t irk him. Command doesn’t want the Dark to get wind of what he can do, but it’s quite something, let me tell you.”

Nodding sagely, the sergeant stepped back. “Alright, I think we’ve delayed you lads long enough. Off you go.”

Inclining our head in thanks, Tosh and I slipped past the patrol as they parted to let us through.

We were on our way.

✵ ✵ ✵

Tosh and I were stopped thrice more.

Each encounter went roughly the same way as the first, and we passed unhindered every time. The wards, too, did not unduly trouble us despite my earlier concerns. 

Perhaps, the cordon was absent any tier seven wards, or perhaps my doppelganger disguise was proof enough against them. Or perhaps the wards were only designed to stop anyone sneaking past the patrols. Whatever the case, we made it through the Cordon of Light unimpeded.

“We’ve made it,” Tosh pronounced, coming to a stop about a mile out from the cordon, and well out of range of its patrols. “So, what now?”

Not answering immediately, I glanced over the rogue’s shoulder at the northern mountain range peeking over the treetops. It was about another mile to their lower slopes and soon, I expected we’d run into more patrols.

Those, though, would be crewed by Darksworn.

My gaze flickered back to Tosh. “Have you been this way before?”

He nodded. “A few times.”

“And have you been to the Dark’s base?”

“Only once.”

I cocked my head to the side. “How far did you get?”

“Not very close,” he admitted. I reached the foot of the mountain but had to withdraw thereafter. There were no trees to provide cover, and the place was thick with spells.”

I nodded slowly. “I want you to try again.”

Tosh frowned. “You want me scouting the Dark’s base, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“How far do you want me to go?”

“All the way.”

The rogue blinked. “I’ll never make it.”

I nodded gravely. “I know. But I want you to try nevertheless.”

Tosh stared at me blankly. I’d just issued him a death sentence, one he was powerless to refute.

The sad truth was that I couldn’t afford to let the rogue live.

Sooner or later, Elias and Jobe would figure out Tosh was missing, and then the Lightsworn would try tracking him in earnest. I couldn’t let them take him alive, not while he was still enslaved and retained all his memories of me. I could always release the rogue from his blood-binding—wiping his memories in the process—but I knew if I did that, his first instinct would be to attack me, anyway.

That left only one other option: killing the rogue.

And if I was going to do that, I wanted to at least make sure his death was a useful one.

“Alright,” Tosh said placidly. “When do I start?”

“Now.”

✵ ✵ ✵

You have transformed your form into that of Raster, a level 203 human stalker. You have changed your spirit signature to bear a Mark of Greater Dark. Duration: infinite.

You have cast vanish. You are invisible. Duration: 5 minutes.

Tosh is hidden.

Cloaked in shadow, the Lightsworn rogue crept northward while I followed silently in his wake.

A Darksworn patrol appeared from the east.

Tosh froze. I did too.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you.

Motionless, and from vantage points separated by a few dozen yards, we observed the newcomers. The Dark squad was twice as large as one of the Lightsworn patrols. We had scarce time to study them further, though. Rushing swiftly through the forest, the patrol vanished from sight after a mere few seconds.

My brows crinkled.

I was no expert on patrols, but I would not term what the passing squad was about as ‘patrolling.’ They had scarce paused to scan the surroundings!

Tosh inched forward again. His patient shadow, I followed silently along.

A second patrol emerged from the west.

This one was as large as the previous one and moved with more caution than their predecessors—far more caution, actually. Their eyes darting furtively from tree to tree, the players huddled together as if fearful of attack.

I frowned.

The Darksworn exuded none of the confidence the Light players did—which was to be expected from a faction beset and besieged. Still, their demeanor appeared a trifle too scared.

The squad disappeared into the foliage on our right, cutting short my musings.

Tosh resumed moving. As did I.

A few minutes later, another patrol crossed our paths.

And they, too, seemed ill at ease. This squad was composed entirely of tartans and had the raging bull of Tartar displayed prominently on their shoulder patches. Yet, the players in question displayed little of the discipline I’d come to associate with the legion.

Their formation was ragged, their faces were unkempt, and worse yet, their gear appeared poorly tended.

My frown deepened. Three Dark squads. And all three in some state of disarray. It could not be coincidence.

It almost appeared as if the Darksworn feared death lurked around every corner, that their morale had been shattered, and they were ready to break at the slightest provocation. But from what Tosh had told me, the Lightsworn weren’t on the cusp of victory.

So, what did the Dark players know that I didn’t?

I was no closer to the answer though, when the patrol passed and Tosh started up again.

Absently, I resumed my own steps. But my mind was less on the surroundings now, and more on what I would find farther north at the Darkspawn encampment.

Somehow, I didn’t think it would be anything like I expected.

✵ ✵ ✵

An hour later, Tosh and I reached the treeline.

The valley’s northern mountain range stretched before us, its tall peaks and rocky slopes in resplendent display under the afternoon sun.

I paid little heed to the scenery, though. Instead, my gaze fixed on the aberration midway on the mountainside—the Dark encampment. A haze surrounded it, a haze created by the multitude of spells layered around the region and which made it hard to pick out any details.

The Dark encampment still stood, I could tell that much. And despite the ragged appearance of the patrols we’d run across, there was nothing to suggest the Darksworn base was in a state of disrepair.

Quite the contrary in fact.

The defenses the Awakened Dead and the Tartans had erected around the nether portal were the most formidable I’d yet seen in the Game. There was no way I was getting in.

Tosh crept forward.

My gaze darted in the rogue’s direction. I didn’t try to stop him, but nor did I follow in his wake again. Nestled in the branches of an oak, I watched intently as Tosh inched out of the forest and onto the naked slopes of the mountain.

There were no Darksworn patrols in sight, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any hiding close by beneath a ward.

Tosh advanced once one step. Two. Five. Ten. He passed through the first ward I spotted, then the second, and still no alarm triggered.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect your blood-bound minion.

Pursing my lips, I whistled in silent appreciation of the rogue’s skill. Perhaps I’ve misjudged him. Perhaps he’ll—

An implosion ward has triggered.

Your blood-bound minion has failed a magical resistance check.

With no warning, and no fanfare, the rogue crumpled, his bones caving in and skin shrinking into nothingness in a matter of mere seconds.

Tosh has died.