Grand Game 491: One House

On the heels of Adriel’s agreement, a surprising Game message unfurled in my mind.

The Adjudicator has allocated you a new task: Found a new House! Your determination to bind disparate players, Powers, and bloodlines into a single united whole has not gone unnoticed. While it is a worthy ambition, it’s also one fraught with risk. Beware Wolf, that it does bring about your downfall.

Objective 1: Convince 2 Powers not of Wolf blood to join your House. Note, completion of this task may have unpredictable consequences.

“Ah,” I exhaled.

“What is it?” Safyre asked, seeing my focus turn inward. “Did the Adjudicator object to your plan?”

“Not exactly,” I murmured, and read the Game message aloud for everyone’s benefit.

Adriel’s eyes narrowed. “Cryptic,” she muttered. “And somewhat ominous.”

I agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment and waited to see if she had anything else to add. But despite her pronouncement, Adriel did not reverse her previous decision as I half-feared she would.

I turned to the others. “What about everyone else? Do you agree with my proposal?”

Nods followed all round—which was not surprising. 

Lacking the lich’s own storied history, the others had no great attachment to the Houses to begin with. The wolves did not object either, and I got the sense that Duggar had spoken harshly with his fellow elders to bring them in line. The alpha’s support did not surprise me. It was his own words, after all, that had given me the idea. His and Adriel’s.

“What should we call ourselves?” Terence asked.

“The Forerunners,” I said, seeing no reason for a separate name. “Unless anyone disagrees?”

No one did.

“Good,” I pronounced. “As for our motto. One house, one people. That has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Sounds great,” Teresa muttered. “But what does it mean—practically speaking?”

“It implies we’re not a loose collection of separate groups, but a single united people.” I smiled. “But practically speaking? Practically speaking, it means our new House already has three potential Powers within its ranks.”

Terence's eyes widened. “Three?”

I nodded. “Me.” I glanced to my left. “Adriel.” I faced forward again. “Safyre.”

She gasped, looking more shocked than I’d ever seen her. “You can’t be serious? But my blood can’t be awoken! I’m sworn to the Light!”

“You cannot be a Prime,” I agreed. “But you can become a Power.” I chuckled. “I wasn’t just spouting rhetoric earlier, you know. I meant every word. We will be a House for everyone—new Powers included.”

 I heard Adriel’s sharp intake of breath but didn’t turn her way.

“You will invite the likes of Loken and Tartar to join our cause?” the lich asked.

“No,” I said, somewhat exasperated, “but Forcesworn like Safyre—” my gaze drifted left—“and Anriq should not be left out in the cold. That their path differs from ours is no reason to abandon them—or limit their growth. Assuming they have the potential to do so, both should become Powers. It will only strengthen us.”

For a drawn-out moment, Adriel didn’t say anything.

“You’re a damn revolutionary, that’s what,” she muttered at last.

I grinned. “Perhaps.”

“But I’m forsworn,” Safyre protested, drawing my attention again.

“True,” I conceded. “But that is irrelevant, what matters is that you’re unsworn.”

“How does that—” she began.

“He’s right,” Adriel cut in. “Since you’re not pledged to any Power, you can gain the Powerful Initiate Mark.” She glanced at me. “What level did you say she was again?”

“Level two hundred and ten,” I replied. Everyone I’d left behind in the tundra had progressed—largely, I knew, from the campaign they’d waged against the stygians. Some, though, had advanced more than others. Calling up the analyze data of my fellow players, I reviewed it once more.

The target is Teresa, a level 85 human blade devotee. She bears a Mark of Minor Light.

The target is Terence, a level 84 human swordsman. He bears a Mark of Minor Light.

The target is Nyra, a level 53 human sniper. She bears a Mark of Lesser Shadow, a Mark of Michael (hidden), and a Mark of Wolf-friend (hidden).

The target is Anriq, a level 125 were-rampager. He bears a Mark of Greater Dark, a Mark of Lesser Shadow, and a Mark of Wolf pack-brother. Anriq is Darksworn. Note, as a Forcesworn, Anriq’s blood has been indelibly suppressed and cannot be awakened.

The target is Safyre, a level 210 human aetherist. She bears a Mark of Supreme Light. Safyre is Lightsworn and forsworn. Note, the forsworn are offered no protection by the Game. Powers are not constrained from acting against them. They may not carry soulbound items, and while they may visit a safe zone, the forsworn are unprotected from harm within one.

Like Adriel had said, and the Game had just confirmed, Safyre and Anriq could not awaken their dormant bloodlines, but that did not mean they could not follow the ascendancy path of the Forcesworn. 

The options when it came to Nyra and the twins were more interesting, but all three were yet young in Game terms, and they had a long way to go before ascendancy became a possibility.

“Huh, rank twenty-one already,” Adriel remarked, drawing me out of musings. “She doesn’t have far to go before she gains the Power Mark by default then. She should be able to hit rank twenty-five within the year.”

“She may not even have to wait that long,” I murmured.

The lich glanced at me sharply. I suspected she knew what I was thinking, but she didn’t voice any objections—not aloud, anyway.

My comment went unnoticed by Safyre, though. Still reeling at the idea of becoming a Power, she was staring down at her hands in shock. “I never imagined that…” She looked up at me. “Do you really think I have it in me to become a Power?”

I nodded solemnly, then turned to face the group at large. “Helping Safyre and Adriel ascend should also factor high on our list of priorities.”

“So, we’re back to priorities again,” Teresa remarked, arching one eyebrow. 

“Seems so,” I murmured.

“Well, it’s all well and good that we’re one House, faction, or whatever else you want to call it, but what is our goal?” she demanded. “What do we want to achieve? You raised the question earlier but didn’t supply an answer.”

I inclined my head. “You’re right, I didn’t. And for what it’s worth, I think our goal should simply be to take care of our own.”

She blinked. “That’s it?”

I laughed. “Sorry. It’s not earth-shattering, I know. But it’s the heart of what I’ve been doing since I’ve entered the Game—protecting myself and those I consider mine.”

“Safeguarding your pack, you mean,” Anriq supplied.

I nodded. “Exactly. We are all one pack now, and I mean the entire forerunner faction when I say that. Our objective should be to see ourselves and every like-minded soul—be they a player, scion, Power, Prime or non-player—protected.”

“And once we achieve that?” Terence challenged.

“Achieve it?” I asked in a bemused tone. “Oh, I don’t think we’ll ever achieve it. Protecting a pack is the work of a lifetime. Never-ending.” 

Teresa rolled her eyes. “Alright, so what’s the first step then?”

I threw her a lopsided grin. “Now look who wants to talk priorities again.” Before she could do more than scowl, I added, “If you ask me, our first priority is carving out a home for our new faction. There are three options for that.”

“The wolves’ valley,” Terence volunteered.

“The nether-infested sector, of course,” Teresa added.

“And Draven’s Reach,” Nyra finished.

I smiled. “Correct. Of the three, Draven’s Reach is the most secure, the wolves’ valley is the most palatable, and the nether one has the best potential.”

“It is also the gateway to both the Reach and Nexus,” Adriel said.

“And the sector under the gravest risk,” Safyre put in softly.

I nodded. “Which is why I believe that our first step must be investigating how deeply entrenched the stygians are in sector 18,240. If we can force them out, we must.”

“And if we can’t?” Nyra asked, a strange note in her voice.

Glancing at her, I could tell from her face that she already knew the answer to the question. “If we can’t,” I said for the benefit of the others, “then we’ll have no choice but to abandon Draven’s Reach and sector 18,240.” And evacuate everyone we can from the dungeon.

“In which case we fall back to the wolves’ valley,” Safyre said.

Before I could answer, Anriq spoke up. “What about the Blades’ sector?”

I hesitated. “It’s an option,” I allowed. “Although it’s one that comes with many complications, which is why I didn’t suggest it to begin with.”

He nodded, not contesting the point.

“Are there any more questions or objections?” I asked, scanning the faces around me. 

No one said anything.

“Let’s get down to the planning then. By my reckoning, it’s going to take us at least a week to survey the stygians. However, given the nether mist, not everyone is going to be an effective scout, so here is what I think we should do…”

 ✵ ✵ ✵

Finalizing our plans took a few hours. Although most of that time was not spent considering how to scout the nether sector but what everyone else should be doing in the meantime.

There was no use in anyone standing idle, after all.

By the time we were done, it was close to nightfall, and no one objected when Safyre proposed beginning our campaign tomorrow. 

That night, everyone—including a large contingent of wolves—gathered in the largest igloo. It made for a tight fit, but we managed. The evening passed in a relaxed manner as we shared food and tales, whether of recent days or days long past. 

Ghost proved to be a firm favorite with the packs’ pups, and under the watchful eye of Aira and Star, she let them stalk her around the den. Adriel, too, fit in better than I expected, and passed the time regaling the pack elders with tales of the ancients from her day and before. Much of the tension between her and the others had dissipated. 

Most surprising of all—or perhaps not considering their relative ages—was the friendship that began to develop between Nyra, Anriq, Teresa, and Terence, and I scarce spotted a moment when the four were not together. What they had to talk about, I don’t know, but every time I drew close, they clamped down. 

I spent the greater part of the night moving from group to group, reacquainting myself with everyone and making sure all my companions were getting along. We were a disparate House, and one that would only get more so once we expanded the Forerunners’ ranks.

One House. One people. 

The concept had sounded great when I’d come up with it, and it still did. Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was doing the right thing. How would the Adjudicator react to me abandoning House Wolf? The confounding new task seemed to imply there would be some impact, but how significant that would be, I couldn’t tell. Would it affect my ascendancy path? And how would I stop the new House from fracturing from internal strife? 

Was Adriel right? I wondered. Am I trying to do too much? Change too much?

“There you are,” a voice said from behind.

Smiling, I turned around to face Safyre. She, like me, had spent most of the night crisscrossing the room. I’d not missed the affection the wolves showed her, and she them. It only reinforced my own opinion of her. She would make for a strong leader if the need arose.

“Why are you hiding here, alone and in the dark?” she asked.

I opened my mouth to protest, then noticed that I had gravitated to the darkest—and most isolated—spot in the room, something hard to do in a chamber as crowded as this one was right now. I grinned. “Habit, I suppose.”

Safyre shook her head. “Mind if I join you?”

Moving over, I made space for her atop the large pile of furs I’d climbed onto. “Not at all.”

“We haven’t had a chance to talk,” she said, sitting beside me. “Not really.”

I nodded. “I know what you mean.” Our conversations since my return had, of necessity, been focused on the wider group, the doings of the pack, the logistics of surviving on the tundra, and catching up on recent events. We hadn’t just… talked.

“I’m sorry I abandoned you here,” I said, staring out at the wolves below. “Matters spun out of control.” 

“They always seem to with you,” she said with a laugh. “But don’t be sorry. I’ve enjoyed my time in the tundra.”

I turned to face her. “Really? That I don’t believe.”

She laughed again. “You forget what my life was like before this. Standing around all day, hidden behind that awful hood and selling wares to low-leveled players was…” She shuddered. “If not exactly horrible, close enough. It was good—is good—to do something for a change, to be part of something again.” She paused. “And it doesn’t hurt that our cause is one I believe in.”

I searched her eyes. “You do? Truly?”

“I do,” she said, not shying away from my gaze. “The players and Powers have run amok in the Kingdom for too long. No one opposes them or curbs their excesses.”

“The world needs balance,” I agreed.

“That’s exactly it.” Facing forward, she stared out into the room. “But not everything about life on the tundra was great,” she said, returning to her previous comment.

“Oh?”

“Well, I certainly didn’t find worrying about you entertaining.”

I glanced at her sideways. “You were worried about me? There was no need really. I was—”

“Oh, shush, Michael.”

I blinked. “What?”

“If we’re going to be friends—” she threw me a sharp glance as she said that—“you’re going to have to stop pretending you’re above everyone’s concern, above my concern.” 

“I don’t do that,” I protested. “Do I?”

“You’re… aloof, Michael. Don’t get me wrong, I get it. As a leader, as Wolf, you have to be that way sometimes, but not always.” She held my gaze, her own serious. “And not with me.”

I swallowed. “Right.”

Safyre gestured outward at the room. “You can be their protector all you want. But you don’t have to be mine.” A smile touched her lips. “Let me worry about you if I want. Deal?”

I returned her smile. “Deal.”

She placed her hand on mine. “Good, then tell me more about this New Haven. It sounds like an intriguing city.”

I laughed. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, for starters…”