Grand Game 496: Hard Decisions

73 Days Left for Brokering Peace in Sector 12,560

The next day, everyone gathered in the den again. It was time for some hard decisions.

I surveyed the faces around me. On my right were the dire wolf elders and Ghost. Farthest left from me were the twins. Both wore smug looks of satisfaction, and it was no secret why either. The pair had gained their bloodline Marks. 

They were Lions.

“Hmpf,” Sulan sniffed. “More like cubs really.”

I had not bothered shielding my surface thoughts from the dire wolves, and some like, the white wolf, felt no shame in eavesdropping.

I smiled at her. “What do you know of the bloodline?”

“Lions, urgh,” she replied. “They’re brash. Prideful. Lazy.”

I chuckled. “Well, the last one at least doesn’t apply in this case.” For all their faults, the twins worked hard and were diligent about improving their skills.

“But perhaps the first two do?” Aira suggested.

“No comment,” I murmured, and returned to surveying my companions.

Nyra sat next to the twins. My apprentice had sadly not deepened her Wolf Mark yet, but she’d grown in other ways and, importantly, had completed the configuration of her primary Class. Turning my focus inward, I called up her analyze data.

The target is Nyra, a level 67 human virulent shade. She possesses the skills: longbows, sneaking, focus, poisoning, light armor, and daggers.

Nyra’s Class had evolved, but in an unexpected direction. Instead of favoring her Wolf heritage, her new Class appeared to be inspired by the synergies between her skills. The Adjudicator had perhaps also taken into account her previous vocation as an assassin. In any case, the Game now labeled her a virulent shade—a Class that specialized in poisoning its victims from either afar or up close.

Seeing my gaze resting on her, the young woman nodded. Inclining my head in acknowledgment, I turned to the werewolf sitting beside her. He was perhaps a bit closer than strictly necessary.

Of the four younger players, Anriq had progressed the least, but that was largely because he’d spent nearly all of his time in the nether-infested sector, while the seeker scouted the region.

Lastly, there was Safyre and Adriel. My two lieutenants. Both women returned my gaze steadily, their faces grave. Only they knew the question I was about to pose to the group.

 I inhaled deeply. “Right, let's begin. I suppose by now, everyone is aware of what we’ve discovered in sector 18,240?” I waited for their nods before continuing.

Raising my right hand, I ticked off points on my fingers. “Overlords. Tree. Rift. Nest. That’s what we have to deal with if we want to reclaim the sector.”

“Sounds like a tough set of challenges,” Terence said offhandedly.

“But we know you’ll find a way around them,” Teresa added with a grin. “You always do.”

“It’s more than tough,” I said, not returning their smiles. “They are impossible obstacles to overcome.” 

“Impossible?” Anriq asked, stirring. “Surely you don’t mean that?” 

“I do. It is impossible with the forces at our disposal.” I paused to let my words sink in. “Which leaves us two choices.”

No one said anything, but I could feel their anticipation build. They were waiting for some sort of crazy scheme, I realized. Sadly, I was going to have to disappoint them.

“Our first option is to abandon sector 18,240,” I said softly.

“What? Why?” Terence cried.

Nyra straightened. “But what about New Haven?”

“We can’t do that,” Teresa protested. “We’ll lose—”

I held up my hand for silence. “Let me finish. Like I said, option one is that we abandon sector 18,240, ignoring the void tree and the stygians swarming around the rift. Instead, we push through the force besieging the Reach gate. That we can do. However, we should expect the trip to be one way. I have no doubt that the void will install an even larger blocking force thereafter and by the time we muster enough allies to defeat it, the sector will fall to the nether.”

“Why would we even want to do that?” a puzzled-looking Anriq asked. “We’ll be stranded in the dungeon with no hope of escape.”

Nyra shook her head. “We won’t be stuck. We’ll still be able to leave via the portal exiting onto the Eastern Marches. What we won’t be able to do is re-enter Draven’s Reach.”

“Nyra is correct,” I added. “In essence, option one transforms the dungeon into a single-shot resource. After we use it, we can never do so again.”

Terence frowned. “But what use is there in us entering Draven’s Reach now? Except for Safyre, the rest of us are too low leveled to run the dungeon successfully.”

I turned to him. “You can run the dungeon—with help—but admittedly it will be slow going and dangerous to boot. But there are other benefits. The packs can make a permanent home in the dungeon. You, Teresa, and Nyra can safely grow your Marks and even awaken your blood there. And Anriq, Safyre, and I can grind our skills and levels until we’re all as close to level three hundred as possible.”

“And then what?” Teresa asked. “We leave?”

“Correct,” I said. “The New Haveners, if they chose to come with us, will have to abandon their city. The same applies to the wolfmen and the packs. They, too, will have to leave behind whatever home they’ve made in the Reach. It may take years before we’re ready, but eventually we will rejoin the Game.”

“But we could never return,” Adriel said softly.

I nodded. “Adriel is right. Once we leave, we won’t be able to go back or contact the guardian there again. The Reach will be lost forever.”

Everyone fell silent as they digested that. 

Option one was a good option, there was no question of that. As a group, we could grow safely while sheltered in the dungeon, and more importantly, we could control the timeline. We would decide when to leave, we would decide when we were ready. In the Kingdom, there were too many outside forces beyond our control that might push us in directions we didn’t want to go.

“You really think entering Draven’s Reach is the best option?” Ghost asked quietly.

I glanced at her. “For us, personally? No. For the Forerunners as a whole… yes.”

The pyre wolf’s ears flattened. “So, why don’t you tell them that?”

I nearly laughed aloud at that. “Because if I do, they’ll resist. Our fellow councilors are strong willed, and they won’t like being pushed.”

“You could always order them,” Ghost pointed out. “Then they would be Pact-bound to obey.”

“I could,” I allowed. “But that would be misusing the Pact I sealed with them. The choice we face today has nothing to do with protecting House secrets, and everything to do with the course the Forerunners charts in future.” I paused. “And like it or not, that is not for me alone to decide.”

Ghost didn’t have anything else to add, and I turned my attention outwards again. No one had spoken yet, and folding my arms in my lap, I waited patiently for someone to do so. 

Predictably, Teresa was the first to break the silence. “What’s behind door number two then?” 

I sighed. I had known we’d have to broach the subject of option two eventually, of course, but I’d been hoping to delay speaking of it until after I’d convinced them of the wisdom of retreating into the dungeon. 

“Michael?” Teresa prompted when I didn’t immediately respond.

“Our second option is to try and close the rift in sector 18,240,” I said heavily. “That, though,” I added before they could grow excited, “is going to take a great deal of work.”

“And the chances of failure are significant,” Safyre put in.

“Again correct,” I said. “We also stand to lose much more by attempting option two. It won’t be just the two sectors at risk, but the lives of everyone in this room.”

“How would we go about it, though?” Anriq asked quietly.

“We gather allies,” I said simply. “But we’ll be limited both by whom we can trust and by time—we can’t assume we will have more than a few weeks to assemble the forces necessary to assault the rift.”

“We can expect a warning from the Adjudicator when the sector is in imminent danger of falling, though,” Adriel added.

I nodded. “That will be our cue, to either launch our assault on the rift—assuming we’re ready—or abandon the sector altogether if we’re not.”

“But who could we turn to for help with something like this?” Terence asked.

“The werewolf pack in Nexus for one,” Anriq said, looking at me. “They can’t be trusted, but they can be coerced with the Wolf Torc.”

I nodded in mute agreement.

“There are also the possessed,” Adriel said. She raised the pouch in her hand. “This bag contains the spirits of one hundred potential allies. All former scions and all capable fighters in their own right.” She glanced at Duggar and the other elders. “I will have to inspect the Ring of Astral Walking to be certain, but there is a chance I can rehome them permanently.”

The dire wolves said nothing, but I sensed their grudging assent. The rings were a touchy subject, but we had discussed the matter at length prior to this.

“Then, there are all of you, too,” I added. “Adriel needs to regain her own body and Safyre must gain a Power Mark.” I faced Anriq. “You must become an elite.” I turned to twins. “You two must strengthen your Marks, awaken your blood, but even more importantly, you must acquire your secondary and tertiary Classes.” I glanced at my apprentice. “The same applies to Nyra.”

“And all that will be enough?” Teresa asked skeptically.

I shook my head. “Sadly, no. We will need more allies. Thankfully, we have a few other options: the Bane Wolves, the wolfmen, New Haven, the Blades, the under-dwellers, Kesh, the lost Prime, House Pestilence—” Anriq flinched involuntarily at their mention, something I didn’t fail to notice. But now was not the time to question him about them—“the bounty hunters, and the brotherhood.” I exhaled heavily. “However, there is a large element of risk associated with all of these options, be it of exposure or failure.”

Terence tilted his head to the side. “And we have to get everything done in a month?”

I nodded. “Something like that.”

He frowned. “What about Saya?”

“I don’t plan on abandoning her,” I assured him. “Nor Shael for that matter. Whether we proceed with option one or two, I will reestablish contact with them first.” 

“Having a tavern nearby would be nice,” Safyre remarked, sounding almost wistful at the prospect.

I smiled. “A merchant wouldn’t be a bad idea either,” I murmured.

Terence’s face lit up. “We could get Saya to set up shop in sector 18,240 or even Draven’s Reach!”

I held my hand. I hated to quell his enthusiasm, but I knew I must. “We should also prepare for the possibility that Saya may not want to join the Forerunners.”

Terence’s face fell. “Why wouldn’t she?”

I spread my arms. “Look at this place. The tundra is inhospitable. Draven’s Reach is not much better, and who knows how long it will be before the nether in sector 18,240 fully dissipates?” I studied his face. “Saya is a civilian too, remember. Danger and risk are not things she craves. And as yet she knows no dangerous secrets, nor is she at any great risk where she is. There is no need to uproot her life—especially if it’s not something she herself wants.”

“If you ask her to come, she will,” Terence insisted stoutly.

“I’ll give her the choice,” I allowed, “but I won’t ask her nor pressure her in any way. Acceptable?”

Sighing, he nodded.

Teresa squeezed her brother’s hand sympathetically, then asked, “What about the wolves’ valley? Is relocating to the sector not an option?”

“I considered it—briefly,” I replied. “But I no longer believe the sector is a suitable stronghold for the Forerunners. What with the Bane Wolves, the wolfmen, the wolves, and the rest of us all there, our true aims and nature would not stay undiscovered for long.”

Teresa cocked her head to the side, and for once, had no disagreement to voice. “Does that mean you’re abandoning your tasks in the sector?”

“Definitely not,” I said firmly.  “The wolves’ valley may not be a viable location for a secret base, but that does not mean exerting some measure of control over it won’t be beneficial.”

Nodding slowly, she fell silent.

“About those allies you spoke of,” Anriq said, pulling the conversation back on track, “we can’t contact them from here,” Anriq pointed out. “Someone—you?—will have to leave the tundra.”

I shook my head. “Most of the preparations we need to complete cannot be done from here. If we go with option two, nearly all of us will have to leave the tundra at some point.”

That got their attention. 

“Explain,” Teresa said, almost quivering with eagerness.

I waved aside the question. “I will, later—if we go with option two. The crucial thing to realize is that if even one of us leaves the tundra for somewhere like Nexus, the risk of exposure increases significantly. It is partly why going down the route of option two is rife with danger. However, the choice is not mine alone to make. It’s all of ours.” I met the gaze of each of them in turn. “So, what will it be? Option one? Or two?”

“Option two,” Teresa called out immediately.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Because once we—”

“I agree,” Terence blurted out.

“Me too,” Anriq added, less enthusiastically but just as firmly.

I closed my eyes. “What about you Nyra?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “I know I chose exile over staying in New Haven but…”

“Go on,” I encouraged.

“But I still consider the city home. I know my fellow citizens. Most will not leave New Haven, even on your say so.” She sighed. “I will not see them abandoned and isolated. We have to save sector 18,240 if we can.”

“Thank you, Nyra. Adriel?”

The lich took her time answering. “It’s been many centuries since the Primes’ defeat, and even longer since the stygians began gobbling up sectors, but I get the sense that matters are coming to a head.” She shook her head. “I believe the longer we wait, the more difficult our task will become. I vote option two.”

I inclined my head in acceptance. “Safyre?”

“You know my feelings on this matter, Michael. Option two is undoubtedly the more dangerous path before us, but if we’re to succeed in our objectives, it will be far from the most dangerous thing we do. We should start as we mean to go on. Option two.”

I opened my eyes. “Thank you, everyone,” I said, not needing to poll the elders. The wolves would follow my lead no matter what. 

I scanned the faces of my companions. The conclusion they’d reached did not surprise me. Still, I had mixed feelings about the decision. 

On one hand, I didn’t want to abandon sector 18,240 either. On the other… I wanted to keep everyone safe. Sadly, both those things were not mutually achievable. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, if my companions had grown too cavalier about what we faced.

But they understood. I had made sure of that. And yet, they had still chosen the more dangerous path. 

I will not be able to protect them all. Some will die.

It was their choice to make, though, and they had made it. “Very well,” I said, my voice studiedly neutral. “Our goal is set.”

“We will close the rift in sector 18,240.” 

✵ ✵ ✵

The End.

Here ends Book 7 of the Grand Game.

Michael’s adventures will continue in The Lost Reclaimed.

I hope you enjoyed the story! If you did, please share your thoughts below! 

Happy reading!

Tom Elliot.