Runeblade

B2 Chapter 248: Bonefields, pt. 2

Exiting the pathway that led them through the monoliths that dotted the exterior of the Bonefields, Kaius looked at the plateau that opened up before them with a pleased expression on his face.

It would be a good battleground—as good as he had hoped it would be, from the scryed map they had purchased.

Rectangular, the stretch of dusty red stone was about twenty long-strides wide, and twice that in length. Hemmed in on three sides by tightly packed pillars of stone, they had entered from the east—the short side of the clearing.

Across from them, the ground dropped away into a jagged fissure, like the ground had been shattered by the blow of a colossus’ hammer. With the clouds clearing, the newly returned sun revealed the Bonefields in their full glory, risen as the plateau was above the rest of the region. They stretched as far as the eye could see—dipping over the horizon like a splash of rusty paint that had spread over the normal green grazinglands of the Frontier.

It was harsh, desolate, but also held a certain grave-bound beauty. Like a particularly beautiful cemetery. The monoliths that hemmed in the fields grew larger further into the Bonefields, but far more sparse—opening up the terrain into a dust swept pit of stone.

There were more bones too—and he caught his first glimpse of a skull. Half as big as a house, and half eroded by wind and time, it had been pushed up against a rocky spire and half buried in debris.

To his surprise, it lacked the reptilian features he had imagined. More cat-like, with long carnivorous fangs.

Kaius dragged his eyes away from the remnants of dead beasts. As much as he wished he could walk to the edge of that plateau and stare at the Bonefields until the sun fell over the horizon, they had a job to do, and a battle to prepare for.

Turning his critical eye to their immediate surroundings, Kaius nodded in satisfaction at the natural walls that hemmed them in. The shortest of the monoliths were more than twice his height, with the tallest being nearly three times—but their craggly exteriors had more than enough handholds for a strong classer to climb them with ease.

Another passage into the stone walls existed on their left—the northern face of the plateau. It was just as wide as the one they had come from, and from their map Kaius knew that it would be the most likely route that the biters would take to investigate the bait they would be setting.

Kaius looked away from the passage, searching the walls of their battleground for a suitable place for Ianmus to fight from.

“There,” he said, nudging Ianmus before pointing to a sheltered nook nestled on the southern face. It was three closely packed spires, providing a vantage point over the plateau, far out of reach of any hungry beasts who lacked the digits needed to climb.

It was also low enough that, if needed, Ianmus would be able to easily clamber up to the tops of the stacks and run. He was by far the most fragile of their group, and the simple fact of knowing he was out of reach would make his and Porkchop’s job far easier.

“Good plan.” Ianmus replied.

Setting off towards the raised nook, Kaius looked behind him as they pushed further onto the open field of stone. It was mostly idle curiosity—the barren rock and dust of their surroundings was still entirely foreign to him. A red waste that tugged at his mind, conjuring strange thoughts of ages past.

The glowing runic circle he saw emblazoned on the wall stopped him dead, surprise rooting him to the spot. It was something that had been entirely absent from their map—not that its creator would have had anywhere near the detail or angle to capture it.

Almost out of place with its artificial brilliance, a Depths entrance glowed with vibrant energy—inscribed according to the will of the System on the face of one of the larger monoliths, about four strides off the ground.

“What is it?” Porkchop asked, before he too slowed to a halt as he saw what had captured Kaius’s attention.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” Ianmus murmured as he walked over to their sides, staring at the radiant runes.

Kaius immediately analysed it, leaning on his Truesight as he sought to delve deep into the portal’s secrets.

Great Depths Portal: OpenLayer: 17Biome: ???? (unexplored)

He stifled a curse as he saw what layer the portal entered into. It meant that the average level of depthsborn would be a full one-seventy. Doable, in the right circumstances, but lethal in the volumes and chaos that could be found on a delve.

He’d hoped that its presence would be a rare blessing—a gods’ gifted escape hatch if something went wrong. With the way that the portals worked, there was a good chance that if they entered it would be hours or days before they could be followed—weeks, if they were lucky.

More than enough time for a pack of beasts to lose interest and wander off.

Unfortunately, with their current level of strength, entering so far into the Depths would be all but a death sentence. They’d pulled off the impossible before, but he had no interest in tempting fate twice.

Not if there were other options.

“A shame,” Ianmus said, analysing the portal with his own skill. _{n𝚘𝚟𝚙u𝚋.co𝚖}

“It’s not all bad—if the biters are as strong as the reports said, we are likely to get plenty of levels today. If things truly take a turn for the worst, it will still give us a chance.” Porkchop replied.

Kaius shrugged, tugging one of the deer bodies that Porkchop had been carrying off his back and lugging it over his shoulder. In his mind, it was still poor fortune. While a fool's gambit was better than nothing, if they’d been lucky enough for the portal to be one to the seventh layer, or lower, it would have been a perfect escape route.

They would have been able to blitz their way horizontally, raising and lowering through layers at random if needed—losing any potential pursuers that might have followed them in after the lock out reset.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on their side today, so he put it out of his mind.

Dumping the carcass he had been carrying in the centre of the plateau, he helped relieve Porkchop of his own, before he waved them on.

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“Come on, let’s get Ianmus and our gear up in that nook—I’ll leave the last of the preparations for when we’re ready.” he replied.

Once Ianmus had clambered up the side of the sheer rock walls, Kaius threw him their various bags—the mage stashing them in a sheltered crack in the stone at the back of his perch.

Focusing fully on taking a final inventory of his supplies, he readied himself for the battle ahead.

Resources:

Health - 3980/3980 (22.5/min)

Stamina - 3850/3850 (29/min)

Mana - 4950/4950 (32.7/min)

Free Mana -230/230

Reserved Mana - 4720

His resources were fully topped off, and he had a full complement of spells. He’d gone for a fairly balanced load out. For his Drakthar hymns, he’d chosen to inscribe fifteen of Hateful Nail, and twelve of Stormlash. Both would be effective against the armoured bone biters—his Nail had serious penetrative power, and his storm spell would penetrate the material with ease.

Ultimately, he’d chosen to use more of the former skill because of their potential for hampering mobility for the full length of the fight. If he managed to bury one in a joint, when it bloomed into a bramble of twisted hooks, it would likely completely lock up the limb—and leave ruinous wounds. That, and he wanted to finish the fight with at least two extra casts of the spell—just in case.

For his Aelina spell hymns, he’d gone with an even split of ten casts each for both Yelia’s Slip Step, and Trussant’s Expedient Shunt. Both were immensely useful, one allowing him sudden bursts of mobility, and the other giving him unnatural reach and speed that was difficult to track and predict.

He couldn’t deny that there was a temptation to inscribe more of Expedient Shunt. After practicing with the spell, he’d found it to be…extremely fun to use. There was a visceral thrill about being able to send himself flying in any direction, coasting on a controlled wave of force that left him untouched.

Unfortunately, the battle-ground was not a place for games, and he had to balance his frivolous wants with the simple utility of Slip Step. That, and ever since Rieker had given them that warning, he’d sworn to leave himself with two casts of the spatial skill at all times—even if it hampered him somewhat.

If they ever did get captured, it would be on that skill, and that skill alone, that he would be able to attempt an escape. The only time anyone bothered to ward defences for spatial skills was for strategic level defences. It was too complex, and too expensive for most applications—and he’d been extremely careful to practice influencing his immaterial flickers only when they were in private.

It was dangerous, but he’d found with enough preparation, he could inject enough will into the spell to let him slip through solid objects if they were thin enough.

After all, there wasn’t that much difference between a battleaxe and a barred door.

Other than his inscribed spells, he’d left a couple hundred mana unassigned. It wasn’t much—only enough for him to use Mystic Rend three times—but as he cast his spells, he’d be able to top himself off with a mana potion and increase his ability to leverage the skill.

Nodding to himself, he dismissed his Resources and checked his potion pouch, revealing a glimmering stock of potions for his various pools of energy. Unlike with the drake, they’d decided against more expensive short term enhancements in favour of a large stock of restoratives.

While the reports they’d seen had said they were only up against a single pack, there was always the chance that the reports were wrong. After the cock up that was the boggling siege, he’d wanted to be absolutely sure that they had everything they needed to fight off ten times the reported number of enemies.

They hadn’t quite had the funds for that much, but they had plenty of spares in their spatial storage. If the worst happened, Ianmus would be able to throw them down from his safe vantage point.

Potion toxicity was an issue, but in a protracted fight, it could be managed—staving off a slow loss by attrition.

Satisfied that everything was in place, he closed his potion pouch and reached into the small purse he’d attached to the side—retrieving a thick vial of brown sludge.

An alchemical mixture that had cost them a pretty penny, it would accelerate the decomposition of the deer they were using as bait, and would amplify the stench of carrion so much that the alchemist who had brewed it for them had insisted they’d be able to smell it from a quarter league away if the wind was blowing right.

Ianmus had been certain the man was bluffing, but even if the true effects were a fraction as good, it would be enough. One thing every bestiary they had searched had agreed on was that the biter’s sense of smell was frighteningly sharp.

Tightening his grip around the vial, Kaius pulled his new hunting knife from its sheath. He twirled it through his hands, warming his blood and limbering his muscles for the fight ahead.

“Everybody ready?” he asked, striding to the deer carcasses they had left at the centre of the plateau.

Porkchop nodded—anticipation and aggression flowing steadily through their bond. His brother was more than ready.

“As much as I’ll ever be—I have no clue how the two of you manage the pre-fight jitters so well. I feel like I’m going to vomit every time.” Ianmus called back.

Kaius chuckled, he knew it was a common response—even in fearless warriors—but it was one he couldn’t empathise with. A fight on the horizon only got him fiery, made him hunger for the meditative crash of steel and burning strain of worked muscles. It was one of the few times his brain truly quieted, when he was immersed in the flowing music that sang through his blood.

Being so strongly attuned to the Bloodsong might have made him reckless at times, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Reaching the deer’s bodies, he crouched down, gutting them with a swift yank of his blade. Viscera spilled in a tide, blood and giblets running over the red stone. He’d made sure to do it badly—nicking the ropey organs so their contents ran through the creature’s chest cavity.

He didn’t know if it would help the alchemical mixture do its work, but he did know that in his forest home, a poor job of gutting a kill was sure to bring scavengers investigating.

After cleaning and sheathing his knife, Kaius uncorked the vial in its hands. The alchemical stench of a wasting death, and the thriving life of rot wafted free—clinging to the back of his throat. While the smell was heady, it wasn’t exactly bad, not in the same way that mundane decay reeked. His synesthesia might have tied itself to smell, but it was just how he interpreted the strange sensations he naturally got from concentrated magic.

Unfortunately, as soon as he used the damn thing, he would have to deal with some very real decay.

Taking a deep breath, he held his breath and dripped the thick brown fluid over the open guts of the carcasses.

Backing up quickly, he watched the creatures’ flesh bubble and rot—skin bubbling, hair withering, and flesh sloughing off bone as the mixture accelerated the decay of days into simple minutes.

Reaching his brother’s side, he took a breath, and was immediately assaulted by the concentrated punch of damp meat left to spoil. It was potent—all encompassing, even upwind.

Kaius heard retching from above and behind him—Ianmus losing his lunch at the sudden wave of stench.

He merely grit his teeth and steeled himself—they’d been assured that it was by far at its worst in the beginning—the smell would stem in a few minutes.

Regardless, now all they had to do was wait, and try to keep their stomachs settled. There was no way the local biters would be able to miss this.

Drawing his blade, he consigned himself to taking shallow breaths through his mouth until the alchemist’s tonic had done its work.