But something was wrong; the watch were racing through the streets, players were forming raids, spells flashed and shields gleamed all over, covering buildings.
“Everyone this way! The rift is over there. We’re gathering at the western gates!”
Shouts came, some of panic and others of flashy heroism. The latter were more likely to be the ’undying.’ A few carts loaded with various goods moved to the east.
My first thought was: Run. They’ve figure out that there’s a Threat among them! But how…?
A knight on a powerful battle stallion in full regalia cantered past. The mount’s hooves struck sparks on the pavement, and the rider shook his spear and shouted triumphantly: “Anyone experienced, come with me! Noobs, go elsewiiere!” He paid no attention to me, which meant the reason for the panic was something else.
“Look, Scyth!” Patrick pointed at a gleaming column of light in the sky, firing down at another part of Nivelle. “That’s how the priests at the Nergal temple summon the high priests. That can only happen when…”
“A Ravager?”
“That’s right! Oh, we came here just at the wrong time, my boy, mark my words, just at the wrong time!”
“Why’s that? We’ll be fine. We’ll fly past or just go around.”
I’d already dealt with one Ravager, but Patrick didn’t have my abilities. We had to be careful.
“Why should we fight it, Tukai?” a gnome asked his elvish friend as they walked past. “We’re only going to break our gear! And those debuffs…”
“Are you an idiot?” the other asked in sincere surprise. “Have you listened to one too many dumb minors? You know they make them up to make people like you believe! It would take you more than a year to earn as much Faith and factional rep as you’ll get now! Try to deal as much damage as possible, and Nergal’s high priest will restore our gear and give it back to us later if we die. They send it by mail! Come on! Quickly, before they banish it!”
The gnome and elf ran to the western gates. Both of them were level forty and didn’t even have their own mounts. Patrick watched them go and twirled a finger by his temple.
We avoided the crowds of sentients on our way out of the city. Once outside, I summoned Storm. The dragoness appeared in the form of the mount of the engineer whose disguise I was using; an ordinary gryphon, the cheapest flying mount in the Commonwealth. Climbing up on her, or him depending on what you knew, we took off and saw the cause of the panic in the flesh.
Harnathea, level???
Ravager.
The colossal Ravager shaped like a mix between a spider and crab was slowly walking toward Nivelle. The city watch and players slowed its movement. Not exactly effectively, but the action mechanics forced the Ravager to stop every time it saw a target and waste time destroying it.
I saw no visible strategy in the players’ actions. Separate groups attacked Harnathea from all sides, with mages flooding it with slowing spells and healers healing the wounded, but mostly there was nobody left to heal; the monster killed anyone it turned to in a single shot.
It didn’t cover the whole area with black slime like Ervigot, but it was clearly no weaker. The gigantic body emitted clouds of smoke and soot. It seemed that ability worked temporarily both as a shield and an attacking aura, dealing passive damage to everyone that approached.
But the stream of players from Nivelle never ended. It seemed the word-of-mouth notification system for Nether rifts was working as necessary; I started to see clear formations of preventers appearing.
“Woah!” I said, awestruck.
“Here come the heroes,” Patrick snorted.
After the second-tier top players, the big fish began to arrive: Modus, Travelers, Widowmakers, Children of Kratos, Azure Dragons and Excommunicado… It seemed the perks were worth it at this event, if the best players all dropped what they were doing in the desert and headed here.
For me personally, this didn’t bode well. All the same, I wondered where the Ravager would run off to and whether I could finish it off. And I kind of wanted to see Nergal’s High Priest banish it, to see how it was done.
I pointed Storm off to the side and landed behind a hill, out of the way of the chaos.
“What?” Patrick asked. “You wanna join the damn battle?”
“Right. Just in case something goes wrong… Take this money, buy yourself a gryphon in town and head to Stone Rib. And…”
I took the Great Portal Scrolls out of my inventory along with a worn leather triangle with an imprint of a bear’s face and gave them to O’Grady.
“I understand the scrolls. But this… Oh, it’s the troggs’ charm!” Patrick nodded. “Got it, kid. Consider it done.”
“I’ll try to catch you up, but if I don’t make it, convert the troggs to the Sleeping Gods and convince them to move to Kharinza. As first priest, you have the right to appoint servants of the cult, so choose one of the most authoritative troggs. And… Don’t let me down, Patrick.”
“Don’t worry, Scvth,” he said more seriously. “I may be an old drunk, but I know what’s at stake and who I owe. Anyway, HE promised to help me figure it out.”
“Behemoth? Figure what out?”
“The mess in my skull. The Sleeping God said I have two characters from different worlds in my head, and one of them isn’t me. He can help of stale whiskey, quietly said:
“Be careful, kid.”
I watched
