Chapter 118: Frost

Chapter 118: Frost

Rain stood before the swirling boundary of the lair, the tumultuous wall of ice and snow only creating a whisper rather than the roar it should have. He could feel the cold against his skin, but only when he was right up next to it. Detection told him nothing. The barrier was magical, and the spell didn’t work on magic.

He couldn’t even circumvent the issue by searching for something like air. He’d done some experiments, both with this lair and with the Fells. A lair’s envelope worked something like the resynthesizer plugin for Gimp, filling in the interior volume by extrapolating from the surroundings. The effect was noticeable, but only with extreme focus. He’d need Mana Sight if he wanted to find lairs he didn’t already know existed.

Rain flipped down his visor, then wrapped a scrap of fabric around his head to cover the mouth slit. He pulled up his hood, then raised his arm and gave the signal to advance.

Icy magic whipped at his cloak as he crossed into the lair. The murmur of the magical barrier fell away behind him as he advanced, the crunch of his footsteps the only remaining sound as the temperature plummeted. In the distance ahead, he could barely make out what looked like a building. Everything else was just a sea of white. Snow was falling lazily from the fake gray sky in fat flakes, limiting visibility. Silence pressed down on him as the cold cut through his cloak.

The stillness was broken by the arrival of the others. Linksight flared stronger than usual as each member of the delve team entered, the lair’s interface populating with their names and information about their vitals. Rain frowned, then concentrated, forcing the panel to display itself in a more compact and efficient layout. The system didn’t fight him, even when he pushed it to group people by the roles he’d assigned them. It did, however, flatly refuse to switch the vital displays over to absolute numbers.

Essed Frostbarrows

Rank 9

100%

FrontlineÑøv€l--ß1n hosted the premiere release of this chapter.

Health

Stamina

Mana

Carten

100%

100%

100%

Samson Darr

100%

99%

100%

Mlemlek Ko-Latti

100%

100%

94%

Lyn Aleuas Draves

99%

98%

100%

Backline

Health

Stamina

Mana

Rain

100%

98%

100%

Val

100%

94%

100%

Jamus

99%

99%

100%

Tahir

100%

98%

100%

This was a subjugation party, and as such, it was stacked toward their strongest members. The goal was to clear the lair of danger and to capture any essence monsters that they found, rather than kill them. The party’s average level was 7.75, which, while less than the lair’s rank, was about as good as they could do. Rain was a bit concerned, but Ameliah said that they should be fine as long as they were careful.

Contrary to Rain’s expectations, the formation of the delve team had gone smoothly. He’d started it off by stating the party’s goal and suggesting that anyone above the lair’s rank be included in it automatically. Nobody had argued, resulting in the instant selection of himself, Carten, Jamus, Staavo, Ameliah, and Tallheart.

Ameliah and Tallheart had declined, as he’d expected, as had Staavo, who had said that he would just slow them down. Rain disagreed with that assessment, missing foot or not. He suspected that the real reason the old scholar wanted to stay behind was so he’d have more time to work on the steam engine that he was trying to build.

Rain shook his head, remembering their breakfast conversation on the subject. The idiot is going to blow himself up. He’d better include the damn relief valve like I told him to. He sighed, turning his attention back to the task at hand.

The next members of the party were Samson, Mlem, and Val, who Rain had explicitly picked for their capabilities. Again, there had been a surprising lack of argument. He was finally starting to feel like people were respecting his leadership, something he was decidedly not used to. In any event, that had left two slots in the party, one for the frontline, and one for the back.

After some discussion, Lyn had been selected as the frontliner. It had come down to her and Telen as the two remaining melee fighters with the most experience, and she’d won the coin flip.

The backline slot went to Tahir, the hunter, and he’d earned it by using his bow to win a makeshift target-practice competition. He’d beaten his fellow hunter Hanes, as well as Kettel and Ava. Mahria had declined to compete.

Kettel was livid at losing, of course, but he could deal with it. He’d agreed to the competition, after all. In truth, Rain was somewhat relieved. Bringing a Fire user into a Cold lair sounded like common sense, until you considered that their two options were a little girl and an impulsive teenager who couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. The two of them were probably still taking out their disappointment on the targets. Hopefully Ava could teach Kettel a thing or two about how to aim.

Rain put it out of his mind, turning to face the others. They were all bundled up against the cold, the arctic camouflage of their cloaks looking particularly apt in the whiteness of the lair. Jamus ruined the effect somewhat, his orange hat looking like a traffic cone someone had placed jauntily atop a snowman. His orange robes, at least, were covered by his cloak, as were Mlem’s. Carten was the least covered of the lot, his cloak hanging from his shoulders and leaving his armor mostly bare. The exposed Force Steel was rapidly being coated in frost, but the cold didn’t seem to be bothering the big man in the slightest.

Rain cinched his own cloak tighter, keeping his arms inside the protective curtain of fabric. Because his gauntlets were so finely articulated, there was no room for even the thinnest layer of forceweave between his fingers and the metal. His hands were already getting cold. Fortunately for him, he didn’t need a weapon to fight. He could stay in his cocoon.

The lair was cold. Unnaturally so. Ameliah said that the temperature could either be an effect specific to this lair or simply from the higher concentration of environmental Cold mana inside. It wasn’t at the point where they would need to worry about instant frostbite, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable.

The obvious solution to this problem was Immolate, of course. The spell did work, but there were issues. Firstly, the effect was muted inside the lair, at least as far as the environmental impact. It remained to be seen if there would be any consequences concerning the damage numbers.

Environmental mana mattered when it came to spells. Ameliah had helped him run some tests this morning, her Mana Sight proving invaluable for figuring out what was going on. Immolate, it turned out, acted something like a catalyst for environmental mana. If there was a lot of Heat mana around, the aura’s effect was magnified. Eventually, the environmental mana would be depleted, at which point the heat output of the spell would drop sharply.

Most spells that had an environmental component were like that, apparently. Mahria’s Froststorm was a good non-aura example. Other spells—mostly single-target things like Firebolt—actually leaked mana into the environment when used. The amount of leakage depended on the skill of the caster.

Kettel’s shitty aim, it turned out, was just a side-effect of his abysmal mana control. Ameliah had warned Rain about using Immolate anywhere near Kettel after he’d been casting for any length of time, saying that the result could be explosive.

Finally, a dark shape swam into view ahead of them. As they drew closer, it became recognizable as a wall of tree trunks, sunken into the ground. They approached cautiously, heading for an opening in the wall where a wooden gate stood open, marking the spot where the presently-buried road led into the village.

“Essed did not have a wall like this,” Mlem said softly. “The lair has changed things.”

“You getting anything, Rain?” Tahir asked. The normally composed hunter had an anxious expression on his face.

Rain shook his head. “Still nothing.”

“I don’t like this,” Lyn said, holding her spear defensively as they crept closer to the gates.

“Shh,” Jamus hissed, suddenly. “Listen.”

Carten stopped in his tracks, and the party froze, listening hard. Muted by the snow and the distance, Rain heard a low rumbling.

“A millstone?” Jamus asked.

“I don’t hear anything,” Tahir said, cupping a glove to his ear.

“No, it’s there,” Val said. “I can hear it too.”

Mlem shook his head. He looked oddly composed, compared to the others. “Essed had no river, and there is no wind.”

“Okay, Carten,” Rain said. “Now it’s time to pull. Go knock on those gates, just like you did with the farmhouse. Everyone, be ready if something comes out.”

“But you said there are no monsters,” Tahir said. “What is he pulling if there are no monsters?”

“The lair might be waiting to spawn them,” Jamus replied softly. “Remember what Ameliah said. It isn’t like outside. They don’t need darkness, not in here.”

“Entering the village might be the trigger,” Rain said, nodding. “That or they’re there, and I just can’t sense them. Some monsters can hide from divination.”

“Have I mentioned that I don’t like this?” Lyn asked, gripping her spear tightly. “I can’t fight something that I can’t see.”

Carten grunted, approaching the gates. He looked back, and at Rain’s nod, slammed one of his shields into the wood. A loud thunk sounded flatly, the echo consumed by the snow. Carten hit it again, then twice more, but other than some falling snow from the wall, there was no reaction.

“Harder, Carten,” Rain said, approaching slowly, the group following. “Break the gate, if you can. I don’t want it swinging shut and trapping us in there. I’m getting that kind of vibe.”

Carten nodded. This time, his shield blurred, so quickly did he slam it into the wood. The thick timbers split as the force of Carten’s strike tore them from the nails holding the door together. Rain watched as Carten smashed the door a few more times, alternating shields until it fell completely from its heavy hinges.

Shield Bash? Rain’s eyes flicked to the party display, noting that Carten’s stamina had barely dropped. His own had fallen further than that just from walking. He shook his head. “Okay, we’re going in. Carefully.”

The party moved forward, passing through the wall and into the town. Wooden buildings rose around them, none taller than three stories. A thick layer of snow carpeted everything, hiding details from view. The sound of the millstone was clear now and growing louder.

Wordlessly, Carten led the way, the front line fighters forming a defensive circle around the mages. Samson and Mlem hadn’t drawn their swords, but they had thrown back their cloaks in preparation. Rain scanned the windows of the buildings as they crept forward, which felt like eyes looking down on them, black and lifeless.

“What in the depths?” Samson said, pulling Rain’s attention back down to ground level. They’d rounded a corner and located the source of the sound. Inside an open-fronted building, the mill equipment was visible under the protective cover of the overhanging roof. It was the circular type, with a large rolling stone meant to be hauled along a track. The stone was presently turning on its own, with the harness that would have held the work animal dangling from the axle.

Carten led the way closer, almost needing to duck as he passed under the overhang of the roof. Now that he was closer, Rain had to fight off a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold as he watched the harness dragging along the ground.

“Ah, fuck!” Val swore suddenly, light flashing from his fingers.

Rain had not been nearly so fast to react, though he’d seen the same thing Val had. A form had appeared, exiting a shadowed doorway at the back of the room. Val’s beam had struck it before Rain had even registered it was there. He watched, his heart thudding in his chest as the form collapsed to the ground.

“The hells is it?” asked Carten, edging toward the fallen creature, leading with his shields.

“Gods...” Jamus cursed as the form twitched, then hauled itself back to its feet.

Rain stared, frozen in shock. It was a man, his face deathly pale, and with ice and snow coating his workman’s clothes. There was a charred hole over his left eye where Val’s spell had struck, but no blood. Also, as far as Detection was concerned, the man didn’t exist.

“Clumsy of me...”

Everyone took a step back as the man spoke. His voice was slow, sounding like nothing more than the dry rasp of the wind over the snowy ground. The figure bent, retrieving a sack that he’d dropped when Val’s magic had struck him.

“What the fuck is this?” said Lyn, her eyes wide, fixed on the man as he made his way to the mill, carrying the sack.

“Hit him again, Val,” Jamus said.

Wordlessly, Val raised an arm. The next flash of magic took the man full in the chest, and he collapsed again, a trail of smoke rising from the body. He didn’t stay down for more than ten seconds before he groaned and began pushing himself to his feet.

“Damn...uneven...floor...” the man whispered, his words coming even more slowly now. The charred circle over his heart didn’t seem to bother him as he upended his sack into the mill, having slipped in behind the slowly-moving axle. He turned, but before he’d even started to move away, he vanished, though the discarded sack remained. The millstone ground to a halt moments later, as if whatever force had been animating it had departed along with the specter of the miller.

“Well,” Mlem said lightly, “I suppose I won’t be sleeping tonight.”

“What the hells was that?” Tahir asked, staring at Rain.

Rain shook his head. “I have no idea. Detection said it wasn’t there. Some sort of illusion?”

“Not like anything I’ve ever seen,” Val said. “And I know a fair bit about the subject. If it was an illusion, my spell should have just gone right through.”

“Gah!” Tahir swore, stumbling back from the millstone. He pointed. “Bones. He was milling bones.”

A flicker of movement caught the corner of Rain’s eye, and he whirled, raising his arms defensively, uncaring of the cold. A sudden wind whipped his cloak, sending snow swirling into the mill from the street. There was a dead woman standing there, holding a purse and digging around in it with one hand.

She looked up, her eyes glassy and lifeless. “I’ll take...millet...three copper’s...worth...” she said, the words seeming to come from the wind instead of her mouth.

Rain jumped again as she vanished in a swirl of snow. “So, this is horrifying,” he said, lowering his arms and pulling his cloak back around himself.

Carten set his shields down with a thunk, straightening. “Ghosts. Bah.”

“Fascinating,” Jamus said, adjusting his hat. “I’ve heard of strange things happening in lairs, but the truly odd stuff was supposed to only happen in those of Arcane aspect.”

“If the lair is causing it, what do we do?” Lyn asked. “Are we supposed to fight them?”

“I don’t know,” Rain said, shaking his head but keeping his eyes on the street. “The miller reacted to Val’s magic, but it didn’t really stop him. Not for long.”

“Can they hurt us?” Tahir asked.

“It would be best to assume that they can,” Jamus said, sounding entirely too calm. He turned to Rain. “Detection didn’t register them at all?”

Rain shook his head. “No. They’re not monsters, but they’re not human, either. They aren’t even entities, which is as vague as I can get.”

“Hmm,” Mlem said. “Perhaps they are merely...ambiance.” He gestured, and Rain saw the specter of a little girl tumbling down the street before vanishing in another puff of snow. “Some...memory of the townsfolk that died in the Shift, perhaps? Are there any bodies around?”

Rain shook his head. “No. I checked.” Rain pinged again, then gestured to the mill. “Those bones are real, but they’re not human.”

“There’s more of them now,” Samson said, pointing out at the street. “I just saw a man with an axe, and now there’s a woman down that alley leading some animal, maybe a horse. She has its lead, but the end of it is just floating—And, she’s gone.”

“I vote we burn the whole place to the ground,” Lyn said.

Rain frowned, though the suggestion didn’t sound entirely unreasonable. “We can’t do that,” he said after a moment of consideration. “The snow would—” he paused, looking out at the street. The swirling flakes had stopped, leaving the air clear, yet still dim from the overcast sky.

A shrieking roar suddenly split the air with a sound like shattering glass, pressing on Rain’s mind as much as it did his ears. He shouted, but the sound of his own voice was drowned out by the continuing screech. More and more figures were flashing into existence, the street filling with dead townsfolk going about their daily business. Soon enough, there were dozens of them, then hundreds, appearing and disappearing rapidly.

Abruptly, the sound stopped, and all the figures turned as one to face them, dead eyes staring with icy hate. None of them vanished as they stood there, waiting.

It was almost a relief when health bars began flickering into existence above their heads, the accompanying name tags identifying each of them as a ‘Frozen Memory of Essed’. Their levels were low, varying from one to three. Rain barely had time to process this before the building across the street exploded, a shaggy bear-like creature bursting through the wall of the second story and crashing to the ground behind the line of dead villagers.

The creature rose up on its hind legs and roared, the sound of its call nothing like that of a normal animal. It was the same cry as moments ago, sharp and piercing, digging into his brain like an icepick. Its teeth were wicked, and far, far too long, looking like they were made from ice. Swirling tentacles of frost suddenly burst from its back like wings, spreading out and snaking toward the dead villagers. As each tentacle made contact, there was a sharp cracking noise. Shards of ice erupted from the villagers’ forearms, creating jagged blades, stained black with frozen blood. The beast’s breath seethed out as a frigid mist, wrapping around the villagers and hardening into icy plates.

The bear-thing’s health bar appeared as it dropped back to its paws, icy maw snapping shut with a crunch of breaking ice.

Frostbear Spirit Caller - Level 13

Rain’s eyes narrowed. His heart was thundering, but not from fear. His terror had been replaced with icy focus.

We’ve got this.

The villagers charged.