383 days until the Arkon Shield falls

Milord,

I regret to inform you that your son is still missing. He was last seen entering the deadlands in the company of a group of young Hammerfists. I fear they did not mean him well. —Spymaster Thovil Silvertongue, Sweetsong merchant guild.

Morning arrived without my sleep being interrupted. Stifling a yawn, I rose to my feet. My muscles were sore, and my thoughts were sluggish too. Yesterday’s exertions had claimed their toll.

The day wouldn’t wait on me, though. Ducking out of the cave, I surveyed my surroundings.

In the east, the sun was peeking over the horizon. To the north, the snowy mountaintops glistened in the clear sky, and to the west, all was quiet. By all accounts, it looked to be a beautiful day.

In the south, the barren hills rolled away, empty and—

My brows crinkled. Had that been movement I spotted in the far distance? Shielding my eyes from the sun’s glare, I looked again.

It was.

Something was moving down there, a column snaking through the southeastern hills in disciplined ranks. Spearmen? “Huh,” I mumbled, my voice still thick with sleep. “Why has Jolin sent a company after me?”

The tiny figures were too distant for me to make out their details or numbers, but the foremost was holding something aloft. It looked like a large white banner with something red drawn on it. Squinting, I tried to make out the insignia.

What is that? A… red arrow? No. It had three corners and was curved on two sides. Was it a triangle? Not quite. I frowned. There was something familiar about the design… something I ought to—

My face drained of color as realization flooded me. “No,” I gasped, suddenly wide awake. It wasn’t a triangle. It was a fang. Duskar’s insignia.

Those were orcs down there.

Hastily, I stepped back into the shadow of the cave mouth, hoping the distant column hadn’t spotted me. From there, I observed them intently.

After a full minute, when there was no change in the orcs’ direction, nor any cries of alarm, I dared to breathe again.

I hadn’t been spotted.

Struggling to maintain my calm, I tracked the enemy column’s movement. They were traveling westwards, not on a direct course towards me and the valley, but Sierra’s scouts had found nothing else of note in the vicinity. It can only be the dungeon they are after, I decided.

I studied the orcs anew, estimating their speed. Even if the column increased the tempo or direction of their march, it would take them a few hours to get here.

I had two options then. Either flee, abandoning the dungeon, or… enter the obelisk and hope for the best when I exited.

I licked suddenly-dry lips. Neither option was particularly appealing. I was loath to abandon the dungeon. Once the orcs were entrenched in the valley, the chances of me being able to force my way into the Primal Keep were slim, if that. Still, it was a foolish risk to take.

But I have to enter the dungeon, I protested. I didn’t come all this way for nothing, and I can deal with the consequences later.

If there is a later, another part of me added.

Entering the Primal Keep was definitely unwise. Reckless even. But some risks have to be borne, I insisted to the dissenting inner voices.

Turning my gaze inwards, I studied my spirit and found that it was whole again. I exhaled a soft breath. Invincible was ready to be cast, at least. I glanced at the sled concealed in the cave’s depths. I had some time, but it was better to leave it here than trying to haul it to the dungeon.

I stood frozen for a moment, realizing only then that I had already come to a decision.

I am doing this.

Jerking back into motion, I removed the bow, a quiver, and a satchel from the sled. It was a simple leather bag with two straps sewn on. Moving quickly, I filled the bag with some rations, a pair of knives, and other odds and ends. I wanted to be prepared as I could be for whatever I encountered within the dungeon.

Slinging the satchel across my back, I slipped back down the valley slope without a backward glance.

✽✽✽

A little later, I faced the obelisk with staff in hand.

The orcs hadn’t appeared at the valley mouth yet, but I didn’t dally. Touching my hand to the cool, black surface, I willed my intent to the Trials.

Request for entry into the Primal Keep acknowledged. Evaluating dungeon party…

Entrant species: Human. Acceptable.

Party size: 1 Trainee. Acceptable.

Access granted.

The obelisk’s runes flared brighter and crackling lines of energy shot up to its tip before falling back to the earth in a shower of green sparks. The sparks did not dissipate, though.

Gathering together, they formed a pool of luminous green at my feet. Its surface was still and mirror-like and reflected my image perfectly.

Rift opened.

It was clear I was expected to walk into the rift. All right, this is it, I thought. The time for hesitation had passed. Now I had to focus on one thing only: clearing the dungeon. Thereafter I could worry about how to sneak past the orcs who would surely be encamped around the obelisk when I exited.

Closing my eyes, I stepped forward.

You have entered a dungeon rift. Beginning transfer to the Primal Keep. Transfer will be completed in 5 seconds.

4…

3…

2…

1…

✽✽✽

Transfer completed.

My vision flashed green around me, and between one heartbeat and the next, the world around me transformed. A message from the Trials dropped into my mind. I ignored it as I examined my surroundings. I had been teleported.

To somewhere else entirely.

I frowned. Wherever this was, it was not where I expected to be. I stood on a storm-wracked shore. This can’t be the dungeon, can it? Dungeons were supposed to be closed-in stretches of dank, dark tunnels, not a stretch of land under open sky.

Lifting my gaze, I studied the sky. Billowing green clouds covered its entirety. Jagged bolts of lightning cut through the air, and rain poured down. Am I still on Overworld? Cupping my palms together, I captured a handful and inspected the contents. It looked like normal water.

I turned a slow circle. I was standing on a small outcropping of rock, a natural pier of sorts that seemed to expand outwards from the larger mass of land ahead of me. To my left and right, frothing water washed up against the pier.

Behind me was an obelisk, and from what I could tell, it was identical to the one I had just left. At the sight of the structure, some of the rigged tension in my shoulders eased. I have a way home at least, even if it’s likely no longer safe there.

I chuckled at the random thought. Since when had Overworld become home?

Ahead of me, a narrow path had been cut through the stony ground. Following the trail with my gaze, I saw that it led to a structure that loomed large in the distance. Despite the rain pelting down and the crashing waves, I could make out its outline: the building was a stone castle, complete with ramparts and towers.

The Primal Keep? It had to be. Perhaps I am in the right place after all.

Satisfied with my inspection of the surroundings, I finally turned my attention to the waiting Trials alert.

Jameson (Jamie) Sinclair, welcome to the Primal Keep. This region of Overworld is only accessible through its dungeon rift.

You are the dungeon’s first entrant. Complete this challenge, and you will be justly rewarded! To finish this dungeon, you must defeat its guardian prime.

Your dungeon run has a time limit of 3 days. If you are still in the Primal Keep once the allotted time runs out, the dungeon will be purged, obliterating you and every other living creature within it.

Obliterated? I swallowed. That certainly sounded ominous, and I did my best to ignore the implications.

The rest of the message, though, was intriguing and hinted that my suspicions were correct. It seemed almost inevitable that clearing the dungeon would yield some form of reward besides the levels gained.

I blew on my hands. The cold was already beginning to seep in. No point in just standing here. It was time to get moving. But where to start? I glanced at the castle. Undoubtedly, the dungeon’s guardian prime was somewhere inside there. With staff in hand, I limped down the stony path.

✽✽✽

A little later, I stopped walking. Up until this point, the trail I’d been following had led directly from the rocky pier to the shore. But now, I had come to an intersection.

Three paths lay before me. From what I could see of the left and right forks before I lost sight of them in the rain, they traced the shoreline in both directions. The middle fork led inland towards the castle.

I was eager to begin my dungeon run, and my first instinct was to head directly up to the Keep, but a new sense of caution held me back. The Keep’s not going anywhere. Better to get the lay of the land first. Turning down the left path, I followed it along the shoreline.

I walked for what felt like ages. I saw no creatures, hostile or otherwise, and not once did the trail leave the coast. Hours later, shivering and drenched from the incessant rain, I came to another crossroads. I glanced down the left and right paths. No, I corrected myself, not another intersection, the same one.

I had come full circle. The trail I had been following led back to the paths to the obelisk and castle.

I was on an island.

That was a waste, I thought, ruing the time lost. I had learned little of value and in exchange, I had only gotten myself cold and wet. I wondered how much of my time had lapsed. Would I even know when the dungeon would be destroyed? Unbidden, a Trials message opened in my mind.

Time remaining before the Primal Keep is purged: 2 days and 19 hours.

Huh, good to know.

Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I ignored the desire to warm myself with dragonfire. I couldn’t afford to waste mana or stamina. Sighing unhappily, I turned right onto the path leading to the castle. It was time to see what secrets it held.

Thankfully, it did not take me long to reach the Keep. After walking only a few more minutes, I crested a gentle incline and spotted a drawbridge in the distance.

A guarded drawbridge.

I flung myself down onto the muddy ground and retreated a few paces, hoping I hadn’t been spotted.

The bridge was about a hundred yards away, and with my vision obscured by the rain, I hadn’t been able to make out much of the guards other than that they appeared humanoid in shape.

Outstretched on the ground, and now both soaked and filthy, I waited.

I heard no cry of alarm or anything else that pointed to me having been seen. Still, I lay unmoving for a full minute before daring to squirm forward through the mud and peek over the slope again.

All remained quiet below, and before turning my attention to the guards, I took the time to study the Keep itself. A wide moat had been dug around the castle. Its waters were dark and choppy. The only means of crossing the moat, and consequently entering the Keep, appeared to be the drawbridge. The route passed the bridge was well-protected too. A portcullis—raised at the moment—was on the bridge’s far end and beyond that was an enclosed bailey.

Then there were the guards.

Two gigantic figures, standing sharply erect, stood before the grille metal portcullis gate. I waited for one to fidget or move, but neither did. Even after minutes of observation, the pair remained unmoving.

My brows drew down. Was I wrong? Are those statues or guards? Reaching out with my will, I analyzed one of the figures.

The target is a level 51 lesser granite elemental. It has meager Magic, exceptional Resilience, is gifted with Might, and has no Craft.

Holding back my shock at the elemental’s level, I turned my gaze on its fellow and analyzed it in turn. The result was no different.

My pulse fluttered uneasily. Two level fifty creatures, and both with magic? By level alone, each of the elementals was a match for the murluk chieftain. These two surely couldn’t be creature champions, though, could they? Surely not. Not placed at the very start of a dungeon.

But creature champions or not, the elementals wouldn’t be easy to defeat. I studied the pair intently, searching for weaknesses.

Each guard was nearly twice my own height and was formed from what appeared to be solid rock—granite, to be precise. They had no facial features to speak of and seemed oblivious of their surroundings. Both let the rain run unheeded down their polished shells and were unbothered by the mud covering their feet.

The elementals also weren’t dressed in armor. Nor did they carry weapons of any kind. But both those seemed unnecessary. The pair’s stone shells looked impervious to damage, and their rock hands would be dangerous enough as weapons. Damnit. Getting past the guard guards didn’t look like it was going to be easy.

Was there another way in?

Letting my gaze drift upwards, I surveyed the castle’s fortifications once more. The Keep itself was squarish in design with a tower at each corner. No outer wall ringed it. The moat, bridge, and portcullis were the sum of the castle’s outer defenses.

A hint of movement on the left tower’s ramparts drew my attention. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to pierce the haze of rain. Was something there? Or was it just the rain playing tricks on me? Unfortunately, night vision only helped with seeing in the dark. In this weather it was scarce of any use.

Forced to rely on my natural vision alone, I stared unblinkingly at the spot in question for a drawn-out moment. Eventually, I was rewarded with a second glimmer of movement.

Something was there.

Another guard?

More out of wishful thinking than anything else, I tried to analyze the half-seen blur. To my surprise, my reaching tendrils of will hooked onto something and a moment later, the Trials decoded what I had uncovered.

The target is a level 52 lesser ice elemental. It has meager Might, mediocre Resilience, is gifted with Magic, and has no Craft.

Aargh. Another elemental. And this one had magic as well. My gaze flickered to the right tower, and sure enough, after a few seconds of focused examination, I spotted an ice elemental upon it too.

Both the towers and gate were manned. My eyes dropped to the moat, wondering if it, too, was guarded. Waves slapped hard against the sides of the moat. My brows drew down. At first, I had believed the weather was responsible for the water’s choppiness, and I’d paid it little heed, but now that my suspicions were roused…

Suspecting something less benign, I scrutinized the moat intently. A handful of minutes later, my diligence was rewarded when a glistening shape cut through the water’s surface.

My frown deepened. Were those scales? Before the creature could fully submerge itself again, I cast analyze.

The target is a level 61 sea serpent. It has no Magic and Craft, exceptional Might, and is gifted with Resilience.

My lips twisted. So, five hostiles at least. The Keep entrance was more heavily guarded than I’d initially thought, and getting past all those defenses looked well-nigh impossible. I retreated from the crest of the hill. I wasn’t ready to give up, but I was in no doubt that a direct frontal assault wouldn’t work.

I had to come up with an alternative approach.

As much as I disliked the idea of delaying, I knew I had no choice now but to explore the island itself, going over every inch in the hope of finding a backdoor into the Keep. And if I couldn’t find one… well, I’d cross that bridge when I came to it.

✽✽✽

Three hours later, I completed my examination of the region. The island was pocketed with nooks and crannies. Assuming I needed to rest, shelter from the dreary weather would be easy to find. The island was reassuringly barren too. Other than what lay within the Keep itself, nothing in the area looked vaguely threatening.

Less heartening, I found no backdoor into the Keep.

The castle’s walls were too high for me to scale, and both the other towers were also guarded by ice elementals. And despite the hope I’d been holding out, none of the island’s countless nooks proved to be the disguised entrance of a secret tunnel leading into the Keep either.

Still, all was not lost.

In my hours of poking around the island, I’d come up with a plan. A dangerous one, but more workable than a direct assault on the gate. Given enough time and with some careful maneuvering, I was sure I could defeat the Keep’s outer guards. Much would depend, though, on how smart the elementals were. If the creatures proved more intelligent than I anticipated, I would have no choice but to retreat, abandoning the dungeon entirely.

My strategy—assuming it worked—would get me into the Keep. But once inside, I was uncertain if I would be able to proceed further. Given the strength of the Keep’s outer guards, I was forced to admit that defeating its guardian prime might well prove beyond me. Only time would tell.

A few minutes later, I was crouched atop a rock spur on the northeastern end of the island and ready to begin. I had chosen my position carefully. From the top of the outcropping, I could see—just barely—the ice elemental on the nearest tower. The other three tower guards and two gate guards were out of sight.

My plan was simple. I hoped to eliminate the tower guards one at a time. If the creatures realized what I was about and banded together, well then, my plan was doomed, and I would flee.

From the limited knowledge I had gathered about elementals through the wiki, I knew that most elementals—especially the lesser ones—were wild unthinking creatures, and more akin to the forces of nature they sprung from than sentient beasts.

I was hoping the lesser elementals I faced would not be as bright as the phase hounds or even the murluks. But until I attacked the creatures and observed their reaction myself, all I had to go on was supposition, and I needed to be ready for any eventuality—which was I had already mapped out my escape route back to the dungeon’s exit.

Right, time to begin.

I straightened to my full height on the rock spur. Fixing my gaze on my target, some hundred yards distant, I examined the creature anew. The ice elemental didn’t react as I revealed myself fully—either unaware or uncaring of my presence—and continued on its slow, careful circuit around the tower’s perimeter.

Like its granite fellows, the ice elemental was a humanoid giant, only one formed from thick chunks of ice instead of polished rock. The creature didn’t look any less daunting than the granite elementals, but given that it was an ice elemental, I expected it to be particularly vulnerable to my dragonfire.

Pointing my wizard staff at the tower guard, I formed the spell construct of fire ray in my mind. Drawing on my mana and lifeblood, I infused the spell and sent the casting rippling out to my target.

Dragonfire burned a line of gold through the air and struck the elemental square on. The creature jerked around in surprise.

I didn’t follow up with a second attack immediately. It was more important for me to gauge the guards’ response. Lowering my staff, I waited to see what would come of my attack.

The tower guard rushed to the edge of the ramparts and swiveled its face back and forth as it searched for the source of the attack. Even from this distance, I could make out the massive chunk of ice missing from the creature’s torso. I smiled. A decent start, I thought.

Long minutes passed, and the ice elemental still failed to find me. Like its granite fellows, the creature’s face was smooth and free of facial features. Was it blind? It certainly seemed that way. But more important than my target’s inability to find me was the lack of reaction from the other guards. None of them were converging on me.

Good enough.

Pointing my staff at the elemental again, I sent a second lance of fire hurtling towards it and clipped the creature on the shoulder.

The elemental staggered back. This time the creature seemed to divine the source of the attack and its faceless head fixed on my position. Now what will it do? I wondered curiously and sent another beam of fire racing down my wizard staff.

My foe’s response was not long in coming.

The creature thrust out its arms and pointed two clenched fists at me. Pausing in my own attack, I watched the elemental warily. What is it about?

A cloud of vapor formed around the guard, causing new spikes of ice to condense on its shoulders with frightening quickness. Is it healing?

But the ice didn’t flow into the elemental to fix the gaping holes in its torso. Instead, they marched down the creature’s arms and out its closed fists.

Towards me.

“Damn,” I muttered as I beheld the twin streams of ice racing towards me. I had only a split-second to decide on a response. Taking up my staff in a two-handed grip, I thrust it forward horizontally and flared. Jets of fire roared upwards and downwards along the length of the Focus, forming a solid shield of flame in front of me.

Only, it was not quite as impenetrable as I hoped.

Ice shards met dragonfire, and most vaporized on impact. But not all. One, melted to half its original size and misshapen, penetrated the wall of fire and drove into my chest. Hard.

I staggered back.

Lines of frost sprang up around the impact point, and I felt my body begin to stiffen. The projectile’s effect was more than physical and icy tendrils started worming their way through me. I swore as I realized what was happening.

The ice shard was freezing me.

But almost as soon as I came to this realization, the dragonfire roaring through my blood washed away the spreading cold. I smiled thinly. While I wielded dragonfire, the shards would affect me little.

A second ice shard dug into my shoulder.

My hobbled foot slipped, but somehow, I managed to retain my footing and keep channeling flare.

It would not do to grow overconfident. In small numbers and weakened by their passage through my flames, the shards were no danger to me. Still, I couldn’t afford to stop flaring. If that happened, I didn’t think that even the dragonfire coursing in me would be enough to prevent me from freezing over.

More shards pelted into me.

The stream of ice curving down from the tower seemed endless. Goddamn, I swore. How long can that bloody elemental keep this up? Trials messages clamored for my attention, but I ignored them. I had bigger problems to deal with.

Keeping my gaze fixed resolutely on my foe, I maintained the barrier of flame before me. But as the attacks continued unabated and without any sign of relenting, I realized I had to change tactics. I was never going to defeat the ice elemental this way.

I shouldn’t have let up on my initial attack, I thought. Time to break this off and regroup.

Letting the torrent of ice pouring down from above push me back, I retreated inch by inch until eventually, I reached the rear edge of the rock spur.

Then, with a final glare at the distant elemental, I flung myself off the outcropping. The drop was a long one, and I landed badly with my right ankle twisting beneath me. But I didn’t care.

I was out of the elemental’s line of sight, and the shower of ice shards had finally stopped. I was safe. And it was time to replan my attack.