Grand Game 580: Harbinger and Tree

Day 8 of Michael’s Deadline

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Passage completed. 

You have entered sector 30,199 of the Nethersphere.

Warning: The rift you traversed is closing! The void tree that created the ley line between sector 30,199 and 18,240 is no longer anchoring the rift. 

Estimated time until the ley line is no longer navigable: 4 minutes, 59 seconds. Return to the Kingdom before then or risk being stranded in the Nethersphere.

I entered the Nethersphere ‘dressed’ like a harbinger and riding on the back of a flying void tree. It was no wonder then that my entrance elicited cries of alarm and fear from the brotherhood. But they wouldn’t stay scared for long, I knew.

Lowering my dog-like head, I surveyed the scene before me.

The battle between the brotherhood and stygians was still raging across the desert sands. To the west, I spied the orc Duskar leading his cavalry division of five hundred in a charge. Thundering across the sands, the players and their nightmare mounts ploughed straight through the horde of hydras attempting to stop them.

Far to the south and east, I spotted a few lone figures dotting the dune tops. Those had to be the brotherhood scouts tasked with keeping watching for fresh threats from the nest in this sector.

The thousand strong division of spellcasters, led by the nether witch Cait, occupied a line of dunes to the north. Instead of using individual shields, the mages had erected an enormous silver dome to protect the entire division. It was a major working, impressive not just for its size but the coordination it must require. The air above the dome itself shimmered and sang as the spellcasters launched a veritable storm of magic on the stygian swarm south of them.

And swarm it was.

Of the ten thousand odd nether creatures that had started the battle, some two thousand were already slain. But it was mostly the lesser stygians that made up the dead. More than half of the seventy elite nagas that led them were still alive. All were shielded and all were launching deadly voidballs at the silver dome protecting the brotherhood’s spellcasters.

But the nagas concerned me little, and the lesser stygians even less. 

It was the harbinger I searched for. The colossal creature—a hideous blend of bull, mammoth, and scorpion—was unmissable and it didn’t take me long to spot its corpse decorating the sands.

Ah good, it’s dead already. Relief sang through me. It was only the void tree that needed dealing with then. 

My gaze flickered back to the brotherhood army, and specifically, the thin line of foot soldiers that was the only thing separating the spellcaster’s shield dome from the swarm. I was searching for one person in particular—a tall woman with two curved swords and dressed in purple scale mail. Kartara.

There she is.

The huntmistress was staring up at me, or rather, at the young void tree in whose branches I sat, and even though a few hundred yards separated us, I could see her face clearly.

It was expressionless.

No matter that a void tree, a powerful psionic against which her people had few defenses, hovered in the air above her like a vengeful demigod. This situation had to be akin to her worst fears.

Yet, she showed no fear.

Betrayed no hesitation.

Which was dangerous—for me. Soon, she was going to order her people to attack the new threat. Or threats. Because from her perspective, I was one too.

You have crossed through a tier 5 barrier dome spell. This shield prevents entities of tier 5 and below from crossing through.

My gaze flickered to the right—to the shimmering haze of purple curving off into the distance and around the rift behind me. It was the brotherhood spell stopping the lesser stygians and nagas from re-entering sector 18,240. What the void tree had called a ‘lock.’ 

My neck craned further back. The rift was there, ever-present. It was shrinking certainly, but still open and, according to the sector welcome message, would remain so for the next five minutes. Still, I didn’t think the rift was a factor anymore. The stygians on the other side were a spent force, especially now that the young void tree had abandoned them.

Almost as if the thought had summoned him, the void tree spoke anew. 

“WOLFLING…”

At the same time, Kartara projected her voice forcefully through the farspeaker bracelet on my wrist.

“Dusk, break off your attack. Retreat all the way to the mages. I want your people on standby but under cover and protected. Be ready to rush the new harbinger on my order. Cait, reassign seven companies to defense. The silver dome must be expanded. It will have to shield the entire army now.”

“What about the rift?” the nether witch protested. “If I have to re-task that many mages, we won’t be able to keep it sealed.”

“Forgot the rift!” the huntmistress snapped. “It’s not a priority anymore.” Not bothering to wait on Cait’s response, she went on. “Heg, order the foot soldiers back. The line is to retreat. I want the infantry reformed under the silver dome as well. Senzo, have your people disappear into the sands. They are to avoid the tree’s notice, at all costs. But find out what the hell is happening out there! Is a second swarm heading our way?”

She fears an ambush, I realized. Because from the huntmistress’ perspective, it would make no sense for the tree to emerge from the rift alone and unaccompanied.

The tree’s branches rustled. 

I eyed them warily. Only seconds had passed since our transition through the rift. Still, I found it surprising that the tree had not attacked yet. It was the only reason I’d not resumed my own assault.

Well, that, and the fact I would be at a distinct disadvantage in an airborne fight. 

Dodging the tree’s stygian thorns while having only his branches to rely on for solid footing would not be easy. Not to mention, there were also the few hundred flying serpents winging our way to consider. Had the tree summoned them? Was that why it had not attacked yet? Was it waiting for its reinforcements?

“WOLFLING… YOU… DID… THIS.”

Interestingly enough, the tree made no reference to Kartara’s rapid-fire commands across the farspeaker network, nor to the still ongoing discussions between the huntmistress and her subordinates. Could he not hear them? And did I dare contact her?

“WOLFLING…” the tree thundered, all his branches quivering in anger now. “TELL… THEM… TO… STOP.”

“Stop what? I whispered, projecting my voice with ventro.

“STOP… KILLING… MY… CREATIONS.”

I blinked. He meant the nagas. The void tree seemed fixated with them and wanted them protected. That meant we had leverage against him. But I rather doubted I would be able to get the huntmistress to call off the assault on the nagas—and in the middle of a battle, no less—especially since she was likely to be doubly wary about the messenger.  

I looked like a harbinger, after all, and I’d come through the rift accompanied by the tree. Then, too, Kartara was already suspicious of my previous persona, Havick. No, speaking to the huntmistress now was not going to get me far. 

But perhaps there was another way I could use the tree’s obsession with the nagas.

“And if I don’t?” I taunted.

“THEN… YOU… WILL… DIE… HORRIBLY.”

My lips curled into a contented snarl. It was better for the tree to focus his ire on me than on the brotherhood army below.  “Do your best, then,” I growled and began my assault.

✵ ✵ ✵

You have cast wind daemon, multiplying your speed by 2x for 1 minute.

You have cast seeping shadows (modifying your attacks to deal shadow damage and increase your foe’s shadow affliction by +5%). Duration: 1 minute. 

My paws brimming with Ceruvax’s seeping shadow buff, I raked my claws into the branch underfoot. 

You have failed to stun a young void tree with stunning paw.

You have grazed your target, afflicting him with shadow. Current affliction: 5%.

My foe responded instantly. Whipping forward a few of his branches, he flung four separate streams of black thorns my way. Worse yet, the volleys were all launched from different directions.

But the tree could not match me for speed, and as widespread as the thorn barrage was, with wind daemon empowering my limbs, I was faster. Ducking, leaping, twisting, and contorting my body, I managed to avoid being hit.

You have evaded a stygian thorn.

You have evaded a stygian thorn.

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…

More of the tree’s limbs quivered—at least a dozen this time. Hells, I thought, my pulse quickening. Is he going to expend his entire load of thorns in a bid to get me?

It seemed that way.

The stygian thorns were a strange—and perhaps unique—psionic construct that I had not encountered elsewhere in the Game. Alike, yet different from my own astral blades, they were not created through a casting. Instead, they grew on the tree’s branches, replenishing slowly over time. 

On the one hand, this left the void tree with a huge arsenal of the psionic constructs—somewhere in the region of a few thousand projectiles—but on the other hand, it also meant the tree’s thorn ammunition was limited—at least in the short term.

Once my foe stripped his branches of the thorns, he would have no more projectiles to throw at me. And worse yet—from the tree’s perspective, anyway—he had already wasted many of his thorns in the first half of the battle on the other side of the rift.

This, though, didn’t mean as much as I would have liked it to.

The void tree still had more than a thousand thorns to throw at me, and from the looks of it, he seemed intent on expending all of them in the space of a few seconds.

Twelve tree branches whipped forward saturating the air with the ebon slivers.

Knowing I had no choice, I played my trump card—and shadow jumped. 

You have teleported into a level 230 stygian naga’s shadow. 

I wasn’t fleeing, not exactly. 

Rather, I was changing the nature of the contest. If there was one thing I was sure would rile the tree further—and perhaps even force him to ground—it would be me attacking his creations.

Emerging from the aether, I found myself in the middle of the nagas’ formation and surrounded by thousands of lesser stygians. I was in the very heart of the swarm—a swarm still under magical assault from the brotherhood. 

I didn’t let any of that bother me, though. Lunging forward, I struck at the naga in front of me with tooth and claw.

You have cast overpowering blow.

You have hit a stygian naga for 1.5x more damage. 

A stygian naga’s shield has blocked your attacks. 

You have critically hit a stygian naga. 

You have critically hit a stygian naga. 

Your target’s shield has been destroyed!

The naga’s defenses, already weakened by the brotherhood mages’ spells, wasn’t able to withstand my onslaught and collapsed before the hapless creature even realized it was under fresh assault.

 Leaping forward, I wrapped my jaws around the nape of the elite’s neck and bit down—anchoring myself in place—while I beat at it with both my paws.

A stygian naga has failed to resist lacerating bite.

Your target is bleeding. Duration: 23 seconds. 

You have stunned a stygian naga for 5 seconds with stunning paw.

You have backstabbed a stygian naga for 5x more damage.

You have backstabbed a stygian naga for 5x more damage. 

A level 230 stygian naga has been killed.

The giant snake collapsed bonelessly beneath me, its slaying the work of mere seconds. Lifting my bloody muzzle, I took stock of the surroundings.

Every naga in range was staring at me. I had their attention for sure. And not only theirs.

“WOLFING… STOP!”

“MAKE ME,” I roared, not caring whether the void tree heard me or not. Launching off the corpse underfoot, I rushed towards the next naga. 

It was time to wreak havoc.