In the Shadow of Mountains - a litRPG adventure

*Vera*

Vera whispered along the edge of a plateau, her feet barely touching the ground as she flitted from shadow to shadow. She couldn’t see him, but knew that Jorge would be at her back, his ability to move unseen surpassing hers even without class skills to aid him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t using a skill, but she suspected he had a few stealth aspects folded into each of his general skills – when you had been around as long as she suspected he had, it was almost guaranteed that any non-class skills would be as broad as a barn.

Her pride wasn’t wounded by this though – for all her apparent ability as a generalist, she still considered herself a specialist at heart. Sure, she could survive in the wilderness, bluster her way through a negotiation in a city and sneak past the odd guard outpost, but her true calling was still in the chaos of battle.

She had worked desperately for years to overcome the battle-lust brought on by her original berserking class, and to broaden her skillset so that she could avoid falling into the trap that so many with classes did; she wasn’t just a hammer, and didn’t want to see the world simply as a nail.

It was a difficult line to walk though. Lean in too hard and one’s class became deterministic but fail to lean in enough and one would never progress. Just as she couldn’t solve every problem with violence, she also couldn’t shy away from it when it came knocking.

And so, she found herself both unable and unwilling to suppress the grin stretching her face as she moved through the chasm, leaping from ledge to ledge and catapulting herself through the semi-darkness with barely a sound. They had a trail, Jorge’s nose picking out the scent of unwashed bodies – humans – staying nearby.

To stay this deep in the Iona Chasm, they must be powerful, at least a dozen levels into their 2nd tier – maybe even as high as level 70? It didn’t matter though; she’d been fighting far above her level ever since she got her first class. As for Jorge? Well, you didn’t earn a title from the system for nothing, regardless of the name’s implications.

Her active skill Slip through the Shadows kept her hidden as they rapidly closed in on the area that Jorge had indicated, and she dropped a few hundred meters lower with some skilful leaps. She came to rest on another ledge, cloaked in darkness and looking out at the firelight flickering on the walls above them on the other side of the chasm.

Rather than the near mile across that the chasm was on the surface, the other side was no more than 20 meters away from them at this point, narrowing as it did the deeper one descended into the earth. Light danced against jagged ledges and plateaus, cracks splitting sheer rock faces and casting the firelight into a million shades of dissipating light. She felt Jorge emerge from the darkness to crouch at her side.

A couple of experimental sniffs later and he spoke, his voice quiet and soft. “4, possibly 5 of them. I think two of them are sleeping together, messing with my sense.”

Vera shrugged as she spoke. “Doesn’t change anything either way.”

“Aye, guess not. We’re deeper than I expected them to be, don’t activate any of your berserking skills, yeah?”

Vera only nodded in response. She took a breath and activated another of her non-class skills – arcane view – and the chasm was plunged into full darkness. Motes of light began to drift from below, rising into the air like ash on the wind.

She focused, pushing the ever-present motes into the background and searched the darkness across and above from her. No firelight danced against the chasm wall in this new vision, but her focus was rewarded a few moments later as a pink runic circle began to resolve itself to her view. She observed it for a while, studying the pattern, the size, the colour, how the various isolated parts were bound together and interlocked. Jorge stayed silent and still, giving her time.

Once she was satisfied, she deactivated the mana-intensive skill and blinked a few times to return her vision to its normal – albeit highly enhanced – state. Only then did Jorge speak, simply asking “Thoughts?”

“It’s mostly the usual fare you’d expect from a competent rune-master – sound dampening, protection from the elements, alarms etc. The attention-diverting aspect is much more reinforced than I would expect though and seems to be linked into some sort of feedback loop with the mental protections that are standard, presumably to counter the influence of The Dreamer.”

Jorge snorted in derision at that, but when she looked over, he just gestured for her to continue. “There’s also an entire section that I’ve never seen before – something to do with dispelling animation magic, but I can’t figure out how it works or what specifically they’ve calibrated it to.”

“Good work. You’re not specialised for this, just to figure out what you have is impressive enough. Explains why they are confident enough to be this deep in The Chasm too, however little good it will do them. Let’s end this quickly, on your mark.” Jorge rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment following his statement, before fading back into the darkness.

Vera steadied herself, then took 3 swift steps and launched herself across the cavern. She thumped into the wall on the other side, managing to jam her fist into a crack to arrest her fall. She swiftly scuttled up the rock face towards the light being thrown out by the campfire and rested on a thin ledge below the outcropping upon which her quarry lay.

She reached into one of her many pouches, withdrawing a pinecone and a small hatchet. The weapon was far too large to fit in the pouch in question, but she liked to keep it ambiguous if she possessed a storage item and had found it a good ploy in the past. She slid her fingers around the reassuring leather-wrapped haft of the hatchet, watching smoke begin to curl from the savagely pointed head.

She breathed onto the pinecone in her other hand, pouring mana into the activation runes carved into each scale, and the structure began to vibrate softly, a red glow suffusing each bract and giving the cone the appearance of a smouldering ember in the deep shadows she hid within.

Once the mana drain stopped, she counted 7 heartbeats before bunching her legs under her and leaping upwards. Her own strength propelled her easily over the lip of the outcropping, and as she came into view of the 3 bedrolls and single tent, she twisted in the air, whipping the smouldering pinecone towards the canvas construct. Completing her twist as her momentum reached its zenith, she tucked her feet under her and slammed into the outcropping, riding the only sentry down to the stone floor and burying her hatched in his skull.

Without waiting to see Jorge’s initial strike, she rolled off the corpse and activated one of her class skills, Sympathy of the Damned. She leapt to her feet and ducked under a wild swing from a great axe wielded by one of the Lions. Confirming that Jorge had indeed taken one out of the fight already, and was striding confidently over to the tent which was now merrily burning away thanks to her earlier throw, she refocused on the large man in front of her.

He was a bear of a man, outweighing her easily, and clearly heavily invested into strength judging by the way he moved. She wouldn’t fare well if she took a solid hit from him, but that wasn’t likely to be a concern.

She stared him dead in the eye as she brought her hatched up before her, before stabbing the spiked pommel down into her own thigh. She grit her teeth against the pain and soaked in the confused and disturbed look from the big man. With a growl, she beckoned him forwards and spat at his feet. The provocation was clear, and his confusion was quickly replaced with rage as he finally recognised her, the crackling fire behind her finally enough to light up her features.

He bellowed a wordless challenge and launched forwards, the stone beneath his feet cracking with the force of his movement. Vera simply grinned as he approached, waiting for his axe to come whistling through the air in a great arc that was no doubt aimed to bisect her at the waist. She then dropped to her knees, bending at the waist to watch the axeblade pass by above her, slicing a thin cut on the tip of her nose as it passed.

She slid gracefully to the ground before twisting back to her feet in an acrobatic move to face the still roaring warrior. He spun to face her and smiled as he saw the bead of blood drip down from her nose to paint her chin. His cruel smirk dropped instantly though as she channelled mana into activating Sympathy of the Damned a second time, and the last wound she had given was instantly transferred to the one who had given her a wound in turn.

The ursine warrior stumbled as his leg suddenly buckled, blood sheeting down from the fresh puncture wound on his thigh. Vera sprinted the remaining three steps between them on hale, uninjured legs and leapt over his desperate final swing, carving a red smile out of his neck with her hatchet.

She landed easily, acknowledging the system notifications confirming the deaths of both of her opponents, and looked up to see Jorge withdrawing his spear from a body tangled in the collapsed remains to the smoking tent. He nodded to her, and she relaxed her posture a hair, allowing the jitters that came with every activation of any of her old class skills to rock her hands slightly.

Her standard post-fight breathing exercise was interrupted by Jorge’s voice. “Vera, the corpses are rising!”

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped in a breath, turning to see the huge warrior stagger to its feet. Blue light suffused it, as its skin and muscle flaked away in moments. A few heartbeats later and a skeletal figure now stood, oversized cloth draped over fresh white bone and an enormous double-bladed battle axe held with ease in one hand.

Vera wasted no time in charging towards the skeleton, closing the distance before it could swing. Once inside the reach of its weapon, she swept its leg out from under it, following it down to the ground and grabbing its skull with both hands before smashing it into the rock below. A few more swift, brutal strikes like that and the skull cracked, the icy blue light fading.

She rolled to the side, regaining her feet and snatching the large axe from the floor. Ignoring the skeletal fingers still wound tight around its haft, she used it to knock aside the arm of the first sentry she had killed that had been reaching for her throat. A single great sweeping cleave later, and another skeleton was falling to the floor alongside the first.

She almost flinched as the entire flaming tent, both corpses still wrapped up within, rocketed past and dropped out of sight into the chasm below. Jorge slapped his hands against each other and looked inordinately pleased with himself.

“What did your system notification say for these?” He asked her as he kicked one of the dismembered skeletons on the ground.

“’Unknown’, level 90’s both. You?”

“Same. Can’t say I’ve seen that before. At least they seem to stay dead once we kill them though.” He remarked.

“Is this the Dreamer’s influence?” Vera asked, dropping the battle-axe and retrieving her hatchet as she did so. Jorge just nodded in response.

“Not much else it could be. Nothing within the system should be able to reanimate a skeleton like that, and I’ve not heard of any wizard this era powerful enough to weave together something of this magnitude. Given where we are…well if it quacks like a duck...” He trailed off then, clearly thinking of something worrying.

“You don’t think this would be spilling out of the Chasm, do you?” He asked her, frowning as he did so.

Vera shook her head. “Unlikely – even a dead god has limits, and the mana demand would increase the further from the Chasm the effect was taking place. They could potentially be faced with weaker versions of the same magic though.”

Jorge looked at her frankly, “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to engage with something like this though, surely?”

Vera snorted before she answered. “Nathlan has been going stir crazy working on his intent for almost a month now. He’d be liable to sneak off if you don’t give him some outlet soon. No chance he backs down from a few skeletons.”

Jorge groaned, appearing to agree with her assessment. “I couldn’t have been more clear – don’t engage with anything that comes out of the Chasm.” He shook his head again in exasperation. “Lamb will at least stay out of the way though. He doesn’t know Nathlan well enough to follow him into danger yet, and he’s not an idiot, despite how he presents himself. Given everything we’ve guessed about the world he came from, he’ll take one look at a walking skeleton and run the other way. At least one of them will be safe.”

Vera just raised an eyebrow at him. “That kid you picked up has more of a death wish than I ever did Jorge. I don’t know if he’s secretly suicidal or just intensely moronic, but there is not a single chance in all the hells that he isn’t knee deep in ribcage by the time we return.”

Jorge just threw his hands up at that, prompting a burst of laughter from Vera.

“Come on then, we’re done here, and it’ll take the best art of a day to return as well. As long as they stay together, they should be able to last that long.”

Splitting up had been a bad idea.

Idea was probably the wrong word, since it implied a level of initiative and planning whereas our decision to split up was prompted by circumstance and desperation more than anything else, but still – splitting up had been an intensely bad idea.

I ducked behind my raised shield, feeling the impact of the stone projectile clatter off the side, nearly missing the shield entirely and close to sinking into my stomach. I wasn’t keen to find out what a slingshot could do when wielded by something with dramatically enhanced strength, but my skill with the shield couldn’t keep pace with my desire for its protection.

We’d gone hunting together, aiming to take out more of the skeletons and gain some much-needed experience. It had started well, but I’d slipped on an unlucky root and nearly paid for it with my life. Nathlan had managed to buy me time by throwing his sword into my opponent, but then was left with little protection from the couple he was engaged with. He’d managed to hold out with nothing but skill and superior footwork until he tripped on the same damn root that had nearly taken me out moments earlier.

I’d managed to save his life in return, but it had taken a judicious activation of Indomitable Prey, and while that was enough to push the skill up a level for me, it also had the side effect of drawing far more attention to us.

While I wouldn’t describe the skeletons as having a hive mind – they acted independently and any adaptation they demonstrated during fights wasn’t shared with other individuals after their defeat – they did seem to share a guiding intent. I had no idea what it was, but clearly it didn’t like my aura skill, as we were swiftly swarmed by more skeletons than we could deal with.

Most seemed to be of a similar strength, and sat around the mid-twenties in level, but quantity had a quality all of its own, and we were swiftly overwhelmed. I made the decision to cut and run, flaring my aura skill as I did to draw attention, and relying on my higher stats to help me escape pursuit. It had seemed like a great plan at the time, and it did achieve my immediate goal of not having myself or Nathlan completely overrun, but now that I was frantically running for my life through a forest of bleak stone spires, my opinion was beginning to shift.

Two skeletons were pursuing with slingshots, and they were faster than the others by a significant degree. Not as fast as I was with my combination of strength, agility and a movement-focused skill, but still fast enough to make getting away difficult, especially considering their superior range.

I had maybe a score of the creatures shambling after me, but only those two were in danger of injuring me as I moved. Unless I ran into more unexpectedly in my headlong run that is. Not a happy thought that. The rest would definitely catch up if I stopped to deal with the slingshot wielders though, and they were unlikely to engage with me in melee range even if I stopped and waited for them.

What were my options then? Keep running and hope something comes up before I tire – not a strong contender as far as ideas go, but let’s keep it in just for the sake of having one to start with. I could try and climb another spire? Doubtful I’d get up there quick enough to avoid slingshot fire, and if I hit a difficult to climb section I’d be screwed. It was a gamble, with seemingly no upsides, since I’d be suppressed at the top of the spire and left to fight a score of skeletons in melee when they inevitably climbed up to reach me.

Okay, so idea number 1 – AKA run without a plan until death by exhaustion or saved by miraculous intervention – is somehow the best plan I’ve thought of so far…what a glowing endorsement of my planning capabilities.

What skills did I have then? Guerrilla Warfare was of limited use so far away from the ridgelines and valleys I had created it in. But was that strictly true? I quickly reviewed the text for the skill.

Guerrilla Warfare – Passive. The low hills and the mountains they protect are known as the graveyard of empires for a reason. You know this land like no other, so lead your enemies into the twisting valleys and bleed them until they break. Strike from every angle, brutal and swift, before melting into the surroundings and denying your enemy the fight they crave.

That certainly seemed to confirm my first instincts, but Jorge had mentioned that the system tended to describe more powerful skills in more vague and extravagant language for some reason, and taking things too literally could lead to skills being underutilised. Annnnd here I am not utilising my skills properly again. Damn.

Forcefully reigning in my self-criticism, I continued the thought. He had gone on to explain that a complex skill was unlikely to bring any new knowledge or skill – for lack of a better word – to the table but would rather build on the foundations laid by previous skills that merged to create it. It was a transformation of magnitude and flavour, rather than form or function. Looking at the skills that created Guerrilla Warfare would give a better idea of how it could be applied, so that’s what I did. Ignoring Stalking for now, since it was unlikely to help at all, I examined the text for the other two skills in the merger;

Simple Traps – Passive. You are able to plan in advance of life-or-death struggles, utilising the terrain to your advantage, and altering the environment in simple ways to suit your needs. Further levels will provide innate knowledge of the best materials and construction methods to create simple traps to suit your purpose.

Improvised Weapons – Passive. You have shown remarkable ability to use whatever is within grasp to bring down your foes. Whether it is a part of the world around you or a part of your former enemies themselves, anything can be a weapon with the right application of knowledge, skill and intent. Further levels increase the efficacy and toughness of weapons you have created yourself from scavenged materials.

‘Anything can be a weapon’ and ‘utilising the terrain to your advantage’ stuck out to me, but it was likely because they seemed to justify my current approach of running like all the hells and waiting for something useful to pop up.

I’d always been of the mind to make a quick decision and stick with it, even past the point at which it was beneficial or sometimes even sensible. I flinched as a stone cracked against the pillar next to my head, showering splinters of rock into the air around me and shocking me out of my reverie. I needed a way to take out those two slingshot wielders, fast.

I could run around wildly until the sun dipped below the horizon, but I wasn’t guaranteed to find anything that would give me an edge – that was the downside of relying on the environment when in unfamiliar territory after all. Ideally, I needed some way to force them to engage me in close range. Twisting passages and tight corners that could block line of sight. A maze of corridors would do it…. or a maze of tunnels.

My gaze was drawn to my right, and I glimpsed it between errant pillars of stone – the Chasm itself.