The Labyrinth, page 8
part #2 of The Gods' Game Series
“The first is to find a way to free my people from the curse of undeath. We have borne it for six hundred years, unstintingly upholding our pledge to our god even through death. But our pledge has been fulfilled, our duty done. It is time my people are given their rest and returned to the Wheel.
“I do not have any advice as to how this may be accomplished but the circumstances that brought you here have given me cause for hope. I cannot say any more in this regard. Do you accept?”
Kyran parsed Zarr’s words carefully. The task itself was straightforward enough, never mind that he had no idea how to accomplish it. He saw no danger in accepting. “I accept.”
New quest!
Quest 5: Free the Undead.
Objective: For over six hundred years, Eld’s former followers have borne a curse of their own making, cursing themselves with undeath. Find a way to lift the curse and return Crota’s living dead to the wheel of life.
Rank: Legendary.
Reward: Unknown.
The lich king bowed his head in acknowledgement and then to Kyran’s surprise hesitated, unsure how to proceed. It was the first crack in the lich’s inhuman visage that Kyran had witnessed, the first sign of doubt that he had seen him express. “The second is more in the nature of… a request,” said Zarr. He gestured towards Aveyad, who stepped forward and placed an elaborately carved lockbox in the lich king’s hands.
Zarr looked down at the box and appeared to struggle with some indecipherable emotion. Wistfulness perhaps? Or even reverence. An uncomfortable silence descended in the throne room as Zarr’s eyes glazed over, lost in unfathomable memories.
Gently, Aveyad prompted, “My liege?”
Zarr shook himself free of his reverie and continued as if nothing untoward had occurred. “This lockbox is my second request. I require your vow to take it forth with you, to protect it with your life and to never open it. It is not for you. When the time is right—and you will know when this is so—you must hand it over to the one it is meant for.”
Kyran frowned. This request was more than a little troubling. The lockbox was obviously of grave significance to the undead. He did not miss how the eyes of all three closely tracked it. It had some strange hold on them. There was nothing in the box’s outward appearance that warranted such attention. By all appearance it was an ordinary wooden lockbox, elaborately carved with a hunting owl, but ordinary nonetheless. Whatever its significance must lie within, with its contents. And Zarr required a vow. That bore careful consideration. He did not want to refuse the lich king and he admitted ruefully, the box and the undeads’ strange reaction to it had aroused his curiosity but he was wary of binding himself in any manner. “What is in the box?” he asked.
“This you may not know. It is for your own protection. I pledge that so long as you remain ignorant of the box’s contents and keep it hidden from all eyes, you will suffer no harm from it.”
Zarr has made a vow, affirming the truth of his words.
Zarr studied Kyran and noticed his continued doubt. “I do not undertake this lightly, Kyran. I take a grave risk in placing this box in your care and I understand your wariness in accepting this task. Believe me, I do not keep you ignorant of its contents without reason. Keep the box hidden in your inventory and do not remove it until the box itself signals you to do so and you will not be endangered. Do you accept and will you pledge to the terms?”
Kyran knew he should refuse but he could not help but be moved by Zarr’s plea, and the strange vulnerability he sensed behind it. He suspected that this task meant far more to the undead than they were letting on.
Trust.
That was what it boiled down to. Could he trust the undead? Once more, he recalled what he had learnt of them in the last few weeks. They were harsh, brutal even, but cruel? He did not think so. He had not been mistreated. Evil? Definitely not. It was only his own prejudices that had painted them so. The few glimpses that he gained into Aveyad, Zarr and even Tyeliss’s nature all spoke to a strict moral code. To honour.
Alliances could only be foundered on trust. And with this task, Zarr was placing no small measure of faith in Kyran. He could do no less. “I accept.”
At his words, the vow settled on him, binding and restricting his will.
Kyran has made a vow and has pledged to keep the owl lockbox closed and hidden until the time to reveal its contents.
Acquired: Mysterious owl lockbox.
Type: Item.
Weight: 0.2 kg.
Rank: unknown.
Special Properties: unknown.
Description: A wooden lockbox, carved with a hunting owl and, by all appearances, ordinary.
New quest!
Quest 6: Deliver the lockbox.
Objective: Zarr has given you a mysterious owl lockbox and has charged you with protecting it and keeping it hidden until you meet the one it is meant for. Find and deliver the box to its mysterious recipient.
Rank: Legendary.
Reward: Unknown.
An involuntary sigh escaped the two vampires, but Zarr had regained his composure, and looked on, impassive. He said solemnly, “Thank you, Kyran. Now as to your escape. The easiest route out of the labyrinth is through an escape hatch in Wyvern Peak which is a few days west of Crota. Aveyad will provide you with the magical sequence needed to unlock the hatch.”
Kyran blinked in surprise. He had scryed the surrounding area and the labyrinth could be exited directly from the citadel. “But why should I exit there? It is a simple enough matter for me to leave through the citadel gates.”
Zarr shook his head. “You cannot, Kyran. The gods’ attention is focused sharply on the citadel—seeking you. Even now the scrying barrier around the citadel is under assault and will soon fail. When it does, you cannot be found in the company of the undead. The gods will not—cannot—abide an alliance between us. Even the mere suspicion of such, I fear, will be enough to spur a renewed invasion of Crota.”
He fixed Kyran with a questioning look. “Do you know what makes the labyrinth so unique?”
Kyran shook his head, confused by this seeming tangent to the conversation.
“The Skarral Mountains are rich in orichalcum. Orichalcum is the only substance in Myelad impervious to essence and psi manipulation. In their wisdom, when the dwarves fashioned the labyrinth, they left many of the orichalcum deposits unmined. This gives the labyrinth the curious property of being impervious from outside magic. Localised magic, of the type you have been doing is still possible—the ore concentration is not high enough to block that—but any form of magic that seeks to penetrate the labyrinth from without, will fail or be severely weakened. Do you understand the implications?
Kyran nodded slowly, finally seeing where the lich king was going with this. “The gods cannot scry into the labyrinth?”
Zarr nodded approvingly. “Yes. The orichalcum around the labyrinth confounds their divine sight. They can still see through the eyes of a vassal or champion within it but not otherwise. This citadel they may freely scry once the scrying barrier falls but if you leave it before it does, the gods will never know of your presence here.”
Kyran was not willing to let the matter rest so easily though. He persisted. “But surely there is some means of foiling their scrying? At least until I can sufficiently distance myself from the citadel?”
Zarr stared long and hard at Kyran, weighing his response. “There is not.”
“But—” started Kyran.
Anger flared in Zarr and his reasonable demeanour vanished. His stare burnt furiously into Kyran. “Enough! I will not debate this further. Do I need to reconsider our bargain?”
Kyran swallowed, thoughts flashing back to that first interview with Zarr. He let the matter drop and nodded his assent.
“Now to your escape. To reach Wyvern Peak you will need to leave the mines and enter the labyrinth proper. Aveyad will provide you a map and mark out the most suitable route. The labyrinth is infested with kobolds and other creatures of the deep. And as resourceful as you have proven yourself to be, you will not survive the journey alone. You will need help.”
The lich king turned his gaze to the captives. Kyran started in surprise. In the midst of his conversation with Zarr he had forgotten their presence. The captives had followed the conversation with wide-eyed wonder. Reminded of their presence, Kyran wondered uneasily why the lich king had spoken so freely around them, especially given how much Zarr had stressed the need to keep the lockbox hidden.
Seeing the lich king’s attention upon them, the captives bent their heads, hiding from his gaze. “How many vassals can you maintain at your current level?” asked Zarr.
“Vassals?” replied Kyran, confused by the abrupt change in the direction of the conversation.
“Yes, vassals,” said the lich king impatiently.
Kyran vaguely recalled such a statistic in his character sheet. He checked. “Eight,” he replied, “but what are vassals?”
Zarr frowned in consternation at his ignorance and Aveyad answered instead, “Vassals are people who have bound themselves to a player through an oath of fealty. Once sworn, they become basic players in the Game. As vassals their loyalty to their lord is absolute, much in the manner of champions to their Gods. They can accumulate experience, skills and abilities, albeit from a much more restricted set than players and they also inherit traits from their lord.”
Aveyad finished his explanation and the lich king continued, “You will bind these four as your vassals and with their aid you will escape the labyrinth.” Zarr inclined his head to Aveyad and Tyeliss who in response, removed the captives’ bonds. The four gasped in relief, took deep gulps of air and rubbed their hands vigorously.
Kyran had followed Aveyad’s explanation with dawning horror. He would not perpetuate the crimes of the gods, not even to save himself. He would not trap people in slavery. “I will not bind them against their will.”
“They are willing,” said the lich king simply.
Kyran laughed, surprising himself with his own daring. “Prisoners are not willing subjects, Zarr. They have clearly been coerced here. Any choice presented to them is a false choice.” Silence greeted this pronouncement.
Zarr’s eyes began to flash dangerously again. This time though Kyran stood firm, willing to brave the lich's anger.
Before Zarr could respond to Kyran’s challenge, Aveyad intervened. “You misunderstand the choice before them, Kyran. These four are scavengers. Looters—caught trying to steal from Crota’s dead. The penalty for which is death. They are not the first, nor will they be the last to attempt to do so. All that have been caught, have without fail been executed. Now for the first time a reprieve is offered.”
Kyran shook his head and stubbornly insisted, “No, I will not take advantage of their plight.”
One of the captives spoke up. “Excuse me, my lord, if I may speak?” she requested timidly of the lich king, who, still fuming at Kyran’s words, nodded curtly in response.
Still kneeling, she swung about to face Kyran and said, “Pardon me, my lord, but you appear unfamiliar with the ways of these lands. Being raised to a vassal is a great honour, a chance to serve one’s God and champion. It is a station to which millions aspire to but only a lucky few achieve. Please, my lord, understand that even if we were not facing death, this is a choice we would all gladly make.”
“Why?” demanded Kyran.
“Milord?”
“Why would you wish to be a vassal. Why would anyone ever willingly enslave their will to another?”
She bowed low, her unnecessary subservience grating on Kyran. “You are correct, milord, that becoming a vassal requires swearing oneself to another but if I may be so bold, the service need not be so onerous if the lord is just and fair. Becoming a vassal is also a gift, a gift to partake directly in the game, and acquire skills instantly and rise to levels which non-players can never aspire to. In the domains, no mortal who is not a player has ever achieved mastery in their craft regardless of their dedication.”
The lich king added, “She speaks truth—she would make this choice, even if not faced with death.” Before Kyran could refute this, he added, “Do not doubt me on this, Kyran; I am a diviner of truth, it is how I was certain of your own tale.”
Yes, but can I trust you are telling the truth now? thought Kyran. There it was again. A question of trust. Kyran sighed, deeply troubled. What he had thought a morally unambiguous choice appeared less so now. Was the more honourable choice to let these captives perish here or grant them the chance to live but always subject to his will? And did he even have the right to make such a choice on their behalf?
The captive’s words had granted him new insight. He had not realised the extent to which the Game penalised non-players but from her words they were a sort of second-class citizenry, ones never able to excel to the same heights as players. From that perspective, vassalage was more a symbiotic relationship than a parasitic one, with the lord granting the vassal the ability to better oneself while at the same time benefitting from the vassal’s service. Did he have the right to refuse them such an opportunity?
Nothing, it seemed, was ever simple. He cast his gaze over the four captives, inspecting each closely.
Name: Curan Highmore
Class: Thief.
Race: Human.
Level: 21 (Apprentice).
Name: Amdin Greatstone
Class: Berserker.
Race: Dwarf.
Level: 20 (Apprentice).
Name: Adra Maeko
Class: none.
Race: Wolven.
Level: 14 (Novice).
Name: Gaesin Illineiros
Class: none.
Race: Half-elf.
Level: 8 (Novice).
He closed his eyes, searching within for the right choice. Or the least wrong. Their lives in the balance, the captives awaited his decision with bated breath.
Reaching a decision, he opened his eyes and addressed the kneeling captives. “Before we proceed further there are some facts that you need to be aware of. One: I am hunted by the gods, all the gods. Two: I am not a champion, I owe fealty to no god and cannot claim any god’s protection. Three: I am a stranger to Myelad and I have no allies on this world, nor place to call home.
“So, if you pledge yourselves to me, be warned that your lives will likely be short and the rest of it will probably be spent running from the Gods.” He paused to let that sink in. At his words, the light of enthusiasm dimmed within the captives, replaced by furrows of concern. “Now, after hearing all that, if you still wish to pledge yourself, I will accept your oath.”
The captives exchanged glances, silently debating their options. The half-elf spoke up first. “My lord, in one form or another I have been running all my life.” He shrugged fatalistically and darting looks at the vampires, said, “Any chance of life, no matter its hardship, is better than certain death.” Breathing deeply but steadily he said, “My lord, I will pledge myself to you.”
Disquieted by the youth’s words but unable to refute their truth, Kyran took a moment to formulate his reply. Before he could do so, the lich king said, “Step forward and kneel before your lord, young one.” Turning to Kyran he said, “To enact the vow, no words are necessary. The key is for you to will the bond to form and for the candidate to accept the bond when mentally prompted by the Game.”
That’s it? thought Kyran. Surely such a momentous event should be accompanied by something… more. A bit at a loss but not willing to trivialise the youth’s pledge, he asked a little helplessly, “How was it done in Crota?”
“In Crota the bond was enacted through a ceremony and formal pledge from both lord and vassal.”
That sounded reasonable. Kyran said to Zarr, “My lord, would you please assist us with enacting the pledge?”
With a glint of approval in his eyes, the lich king acknowledged Kyran’s request with a nod. He turned to the half-elf and said, “Kneel before your future lord and repeat after me: ‘I, Gaesin Illineiros, will be faithful and true to Kyran Seversan, and by the Rules of the Game shall never, by will nor force, by word nor deed, do aught against you; I submit to your will.’” The young half-elf shuffled to Kyran and knelt down before him, sounding out the words clearly.
Turning to Kyran, the lich king said, “Repeat after me: ‘I, Kyran Seversan, accept your vassalage, Gaesin Illineiros, and by the Rules of the Game declare myself your liege and shall henceforth shelter, protect and aid you. As my sworn vassal, you will for evermore bear the right to demand of my protection for you and yours.’” Looking down on the youth’s bowed head, Kyran did so with some trepidation, wondering if he made the right choice.
“Now place your hand on his head and enact the vow.”
As the lich king instructed, Kyran willed the vassal bond to form with Gaesin. Tendrils of energy, neither of will nor essence, but of spirit, reached out and wrapped the half-elf within its embrace. A bond similar yet different from the beast bond formed between them. This one not a binding of minds but of spirit. He immediately knew when the half-elf accepted as the lifeforce of the youth blazed in his consciousness, somehow baring the half-elf’s nature to him, one filled with the passion and impetuousness of youth.
Gaesin Illineiros has taken an oath of fealty to you and is now your vassal. He has been transformed into a basic player in the Game and his actions will reflect on you. Vassals: 1/8.
40% of your will, essence and stamina has been drained from the formation of the vassal bond.
Vassals: Vassals are sentient beings that have made an Oath of Fealty (a Vow) to an advanced player. Vassals are basic players and bound to the game’s rules. Basic players do not have access to skill trees and are assigned skills based on their pre-existing knowledge. At each level they gain only 2 SP and 1 AP per level. As a vassal, Gaesin may be assigned one of his lord’s player traits.
