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Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2024-02-12 06:50:02 +0000 UTCChapter 3
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When we made the decision, we all ran toward the enemy, loudly demanding from the vile slave-traders to come out to fight fair and not so fair... If you believe this, I pity you, and I am a little offended by your opinion of my intelligence. Breaking into such a crowd, and even in a fortified position, is far more dangerous than going up against an army of orcs. And while the possibilities of escape are always open to me (unless, of course, there's some legendary creature there, which with my life doesn't sound so incredible), my comrades-in-arms, if surrounded, can only die with a battle cry on their lips in a pompous manner.
But this isn't the 40k-verse to work on pure pathos and hatred, so to hell with those options. Instead of rash decisions, we went on interrogating Taria's subordinates. Only this time we were no longer asking about general provisions, but only about their camp, numbers, and surprises prepared just in case. Not much would be told to mere blades, that's understandable, but in such a close bond some information would leak out, even to the lower ranks. And under the influence of my bandit's ability, the bastards remembered everything they'd ever seen or heard.
And I didn't like the whole thing at all, to say the least. You can't compare an army of orcs that relies on numbers and high characteristics with humans. First of all, not even all of the orcs are the tenth level, let alone goblins. Secondly, the decisive strength of our opponents will be discipline and equipment - the guys were the elite of the underworld, trained for joint action, and not much inferior to a full army. Good armor, weapons, some amulets and alchemy, and, hell, a general coherence that wouldn't let you panic or dumb down.
The final chord of this song was the high-level fighters in the mix. Six high-level, rare classes and obscure abilities at once is a good reason to think, even for me. Even if I can kill them all, it would require a slow and methodical approach, not a banzai attack in the style of a classic isekai. There are too many of them, which would make me waste my energy and slow down. After that, it would be an elite attack, which would force me to make a run for it, if not kill me on the spot.
No, no, I am confident in my victory even now, but making that victory quick, decisive, and bloodless for my team is a task of a different level of difficulty, one that is better not to touch offhand. Proper preparation will get rid of the main risks, and it will not have much of a consequence other than wasted time.
The brainwashed criminals can be brought back to their post, and at the same time, they can be turned into time bombs, while we should think about possible courses of action. Not just me alone, but the whole company! That same Hans was more useful during the interrogation than I was, for he knew exactly what to ask them to get the answers we needed.
Regarding my own plans...
The most important thing I realized from the start was that I had to be much more careful about using the summoning of the lesser Shadows. All because of the fucking swamp! Honestly, these swamps are nothing but trouble - the swamps, the mud, the stench, the Ygra, and now this! The crux of the problem is that swamps often bring in all sorts of rubbish, most often not very tangible. Not surprising when you consider how many slaves (waste material) are buried forever in its bottomless mire. But because of that danger, the whole camp was pretty good at fighting creatures that didn't have a tangible body: the lower undead spirits (not to be confused with ordinary spirits!) and the occasional ghost.
The camp was surrounded by a not-so-bad stationary protective circuit, powered by a small altar and set up with a ritual that tied the magical dome firmly to the right piece of land. Most of the undead souls were smeared against the barrier, and the barrier was recharged with the remains of the essence of the absorbed undead. And if that didn't work, the bandits had enough enchanted weapons, amulets, and arrows with silver-plated tips. Not that they had as many of these supplies as other monster hunters, but a certain minimum was given to each and every one.
Shadows, to be honest, are no match for the undead, not at all. And even the most primitive creatures summoned by my will would be far more dangerous because of their different and far more advanced instincts and high stealth. But they will not be opposed by defenseless orcs and goblins, which is depressing.
The second problem was dreams, or rather Dreams, or even more accurately, their proper use. In theory, I could just drive them all crazy, then chew popcorn and watch the carnage. I might even get some experience. Except that it would take up more than one full reserve, and more than one night. No matter how fast I speed up time in my dreams, no matter how much I have to wriggle around, I can't process a crowd like this quickly. Not at my current skill level.
It turns out that I have to choose between two options - to attack the elite, but seriously, or to have minimal impact on the main stratum of fighters. There is also a third option, such as "spend saved talent points", but it's not even greed, it's pride that strangles me. If I even before the fight with the legendary creature saved - because the retard - then now there is no threat. Just don't get me wrong - I can't imagine how badly I'd have to be unlucky to die in a fight like that. Even if they had been many times stronger, I could have escaped and even taken my companions away.
And if I could see no other way to deal with the enemy without losses on our part except for the distribution of talents! But I can see these ways, both by logic and by clairvoyance! So I don't want to waste my accumulated power unless it's absolutely necessary.
But I promised myself that, after this mess, I would bring the shadow class up to rank three - it was high time, and you can never have too much combat power. Maybe I'd also take alchemy and dreamwalking to the second rank. But in the case of the dreamwalking, I'm sure I'll get the second rank myself after I've done what I wanted to do.
"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Luckily, my reaction was enough to cover the two of us in a veil of silence, preserving the anonymity of our stay in these woods, despite the best efforts of the happy-as-a-child Taria.
After our interrogation had been completed, and the prisoners themselves had received a whole set of commands into their subconscious, returning to the interrupted watch, we moved forward to our camp. Or rather, at first I did run to the slave-traders hideout to assess the protection of their abode in person, but then we headed back.
By the way, I was beginning to seriously suspect that Taria had other subjugating powers besides her bust, or there was no way I could explain how she'd convinced me to carry her back in my arms. No, logically I understand that I had to get back to the horses I'd left behind, and the girl herself was already barely on her feet, but damn it! She really had me fooled!
As a result, I not only had to put up with a woman clinging to me in all her forms (and I'm no iron man!) but also the laughing glances of Hans and Losius running beside me. It was the running, for we had decided to let our bones warm up with a little jog. The only people who could hear us were the same sentinels, and they would not have noticed us, even if we had danced the bottom breakdance next to them.
But making a sharp springboard by climbing a tree and jumping into our camp with a very long jump was probably not a good idea. I thought I'd scare the bugger into not being so pleased, but she seems just like speed. I wonder if she likes to scream in bed, too, or only when she falls from a height.
"That's the way it is, gentlemen and comrades." To summarize my half-hour lecture on "what to do and who to fight. "I plan to attack the ordinary fighters with some of the easier ones, and then think about the elite freaks."
"Hmm. I am personally confident in your power - if anything happens, you will destroy the leaders of this gang, especially if you hit them suddenly." After a moment's silence, Losius takes the word. "But I'd like to know the limit of what you're going to do to the outlaws. Just make them twitchy and sleepless? Turn them into drooling madmen? Make them fight each other?"
I chuckled softly, in response to such confidence in my abilities. No, I can do all of the above, but not in a couple of days! I will have to cut back on the sturgeon a little bit before I am considered the embodiment of world awesomeness and the big brother of Morpheus himself.
T.N. No, no that Morpheus.
For the last two options you listed I just don't have the time, and even if I did, it would be easier to beat them in the real world. What I want to do... Let's just say I'm going to awaken their lingering fears and anxieties. Of course, they have long ceased to fear blood and death, long ago hardened against everyone and everything, long accustomed to fighting, albeit by their, outlaw, rules. And I will make sure that for one battle they will all remember how they felt their first time on the battlefield, how their first enemy died, how they scrubbed the blood from their hands. In this battle, they would once again be the same newcomers, just caught up in the meat grinder. The panic, the confusion, the collateral damage, would all be just a consequence of what I had done.
After such a long tirade, I involuntarily reach for the flask to soak my throat. The rest of my companions are silent, not out of shock or respect, because after our training together in sleep, such techniques are not as surprising as they were in the beginning. They're just figuring out how my attack will affect the pattern of the battle to come.
"I see! So we'll have to cut running chickens, not full-fledged fighters. That's a good thing, too." Hans sums it up, snatching a flask of wine from me as well. "What about their elite? Who, whom, and how?"
There were a total of six high-level opponents, as I said before. Actually, a ten, but they almost never all get together, so there are only six of them now. Unpleasant numbers, unpleasant classes, and unpleasant people who could use a dose or two of life-giving euthanasia. It is in our power to ensure the cessation of their vitality, but the battle plan for this must be properly polished.
I considered the thirty-third level Brether, whose second class was the Phantom, to be the biggest threat. While I'd already seen and killed brethers, the criminal and untidy version of duelists, during my adventures in Ostmark, the Phantom bothered me. The epic class of obscure purpose evoked a feeling of emptiness and a kind of unsteadiness as if one were not looking at a human being, but at some balloon ready to burst at any moment. I could clearly sense that this guy had only just begun to learn his new class, but the threat from him was the strongest. It was also pretty muffled, indicative of his ability to hide from insight. He's still no match for me, especially if I'm ambushing him, but for the rest of us...
On the second line, I'll put the owner of the highest level in the camp, the thirty-fifth. The purely magical classes of Aeromancer and Rare Grade Electromage were not the most impressive, but I could have sworn that this geezer put all his stats into magical power, which caused reasonable apprehension. If one of those strikes, even I'll be in trouble, even if I manage to fall into Shadow, and there won't even be ashes left of my team.
The clairvoyant told me that he would only be able to hit like that a few times before he was left with very little energy and that the blows themselves would not be prepared quickly. Given his low physique and general old age, it is better to hit the ugly grandfather before the fight begins, so that there would be no force majeure.
The third place at the top of our enemies I'll probably give to another mage. Mage of Death and Preacher of Death at level twenty-seven. The rare and epic classes, which, judging by their names, have a lot of synergy with each other, made him a very dangerous man. He was too menacing, with the certainty that it was as easy to kill him as it was to die at his hand. He has enormous attacking power but little defense - it's almost like a glass cannon. The man, skinny as a skeleton and pale as a moth, was a very unpleasant character.
On the fourth line sits a Brigand and a Butcher (not to be confused with a Craftsman) at level thirtieth. A common and rare class, high dexterity and weapon skills, vast experience, and inhuman cruelty. No kidding, metaphysically speaking, he reeked of blood and death like a slaughterhouse, and the Gaze showed him black from the blood splatter that covered him. I had to consciously turn off my clairvoyance to avoid drowning in the floods of visions. Blood, betrayal, torture, blood, abomination, lust for profit, blood, torture, and more blood - it seemed he was these concepts himself. It was even strange that a man with such a past hadn't mutated into some demonic bullshit at all. If he hadn't been kicked out of Hell for his brutality, he certainly would have fit in with the demonic company without the slightest problem. They would have accepted him as one of their own.
I'll give the fifth line to the mage with the class of Malefic at level twenty-four. The young guy wasn't nearly as dangerous, but he had a collection of bling that protected him from the vicissitudes of his environment. He got into bad company and went downhill - this brat may not have been more violent than the Butcher, but he wanted to be.
I gave the last line to the second-highest level man in the camp, even though he wasn't a fighter. The Mentalist and Slavemancer, two rare classes, didn't make him dangerous in combat, but I should kill him at least for his profession. And because he's still a pretty high-level bastard, he can be a real pain in the ass - a Mentalist can also give a pure combat class a lot of trouble from behind other people's backs. So fuck the risks!
"What do you think about the order of priority?" I ask my comrades-in-arms. "Which of them should we rid the world of first?"
"The magician, of course!" Hans answered without thinking for a second as if he were quoting a memorized cheat sheet. "The slow wizards are often the most dangerous. Only the wizard!"
But Losius is silent, gesturing for us to be silent, too, with a concentrated expression on his face and clearly trying to remember some important, or seemingly important, detail.
"The Preacher must be killed not just first among the elite, but first in general." At last, he answers with a sudden frown. "I remembered them from the stories of Cadmius, my middle brother. He is a great lover of eradicating Evil, for his inquisitorial class obliges him. He has almost cut off contact with the family, especially since he joined his precious order, but he still told me a lot."
I stepped sharply on the foot of Taria, who was about to quip about the long introduction and the reluctance to talk about the case. I don't need clairvoyance to know how Losius would react to such a taunt, especially if the taunt is directed at his family.
"I'm sorry, I was carried away by the river of reflection." He immediately understood her mood. "The Preachers of Death are able to sense death within a certain radius of themselves. I mean, when they get a class, they have it. So if we don't want to kindly inform him of our attack, we'll have to cut off his life from the start."
In my mind, I give myself a plus sign for the idea of raising the issue in general discussion, otherwise, it might not be funny at all, but very unpleasant.
"This is very important information, Losius, in fact, critically important." I don't mind expressing my thoughts. "I could have gotten myself into trouble and set you up if I hadn't known about it. What about the others?"
Losius answered again, but his answer was not as useful as the previous one, although it was not useless at all. In any case, information is never superfluous.
One of the classes I was offered at level twenty-five was exactly Phantom. From what the System revealed, I understand that this class focuses on dexterity and has spatial and magical skills. I won't say much else, except that I support Hans in saying that a mage should be killed before he launches an attack.
I silently write down what I said in my imaginary notebook, and then I turn to the feisty Taria, who was annoyed by her own uselessness during the discussion that was going on. In response to a silent question on my part, she calmly replied: "Malefic."
A question mark seemed to appear above my head, as did everyone else's. Not that I didn't approve of that opinion, but I didn't understand at all, why exactly? Taria immediately answered what she thought about it.
"If he has a bunch of protective bling, he could be a problem that would be hard to kill. And his relative weakness will make the asshole immediately run away in terror, dropping his pants. Killing a protected and yet fleeing one would be problematic."
She seemed to be on the point, forcing me to think about ways to prevent escape, but I could feel with my ass that she had not said everything that was in her heart. Fortunately, she didn't get too impatient, but she gave up the main reason for her suggestion at once.
I also hate cocksuckers who think a title gives them the right to slaughter everyone around them like cattle. That's it.
We look over at Losius and roll our eyes in unison in response to such class hatred. It's a good thing she doesn't accuse the duelist himself of this, having gotten to know his character better. I won't lie about them becoming friends, but their mutual dislike has reduced the heat of the situation. Hans, on the other hand, just laughs quietly at us all, almost grunting from the emotions that overwhelm him. That's the kind of person to whom our communication supersedes a comedy show!
"All right, stop laughing!" I interrupt the feast of idiocy. "Now for the plan of attack on the camp. On my part, here's what I propose to you all..."
The Dream was boiling and bubbling, injected by my will and my power. It felt like I was trying to lift a huge rock, using the hair from my asshole instead of a lever. It wasn't even painful, so much as uncomfortable and... immense. I could physically feel that if I relaxed just a little bit, my structure, created with love and tenderness, would begin to crumble like a sandcastle.
I had to clutch my hands together and work, promising myself rest and a cold shower upon awakening. Each individual's dream was like a small and thin thread that led to a realm created by their consciousnesses. I wove a web of these threads like a spider's web or a giant dream catcher. The web contained all the individual dreams, making them intertwine, gather into separate knots, and dreams common to certain groups.
Any section of the web was equal, and from any section, I could get into the sleep of any of my victims. The reserve was going away at a frightening rate, but I could feel my will incarnate under my efforts. It was incomparable to anything, unlike anything else. The dream energy was unruly, viscous, and at the same time incredibly light. Controlling it was as difficult as controlling the fog, or the sun's rays reflecting on the water. An elusive power that seemed to be all yours when you reached for it, or that evaporated without a trace if you lost sight of it for a single moment.
This energy was different, turned inside out, misunderstood, even if the first impression seemed entirely clear and understandable. It was like a reflection in a distorted mirror, like an elusive difference in something that could never be realized until you dived even deeper until you stepped into the mirror until you were just your dream, a reflection of who you had once been.
If The Shadow showed its evil nature from the very beginning, from the very first step out of reality, then the Dream was shaky and deceitful from beginning to end. It soothed, it lulled, it deceived the senses, gradually taking away who you are. Honestly, if it weren't for the habit of always and everywhere being as focused as possible, which I had developed after my interactions with Shadows, I don't know how this adventure would have ended. Fortunately, for me the paranoid caution I felt when dealing with other plans had become something of a reflex. It kept the deceptively peaceful Dream from getting inside my Self.
I wasn't even surprised by the danger - I'd become convinced in the course of my misadventures that the local world, its inhabitants, and local magic were out to do me wrong. Seriously, I didn't even mess up the construction of my web, except for a couple of loose threads that were picked right back up.
I wove a nightmare for everyone at the same time, but also for everyone separately. The fear of death, the sense of powerlessness, the inevitable pain, and wounds - all this haunted the sleepers in a continuous stream of visions and mirages that knew no pity or mercy. In these dreams, the only way to survive was to stand still, freeze, and not move. A panicked stupor that would have to strike the savage murderers the moment the battle broke out. Some would drop it at once, some a little later, but hardly anyone would manage to get rid of the hook driven into the heart until the end. Not in the time, it will take us to fight.
For others, bolder but less stable mentally, I created shared dreams where they had to kill each other to save themselves. Minimal impact, for there are too many targets, but I don't want instant results. When the carnage comes, when fear gets its claws into them, it will be enough for one to panic and brush aside yesterday's ally for a real royal battle of all against all to begin. They'll probably manage it, and restore order, only no one will let them...
Dreams sang and shimmered with the shards of thousands of mirrors, distorting and changing those caught in their captivity, while I stayed beside each of them, like a huge spider-like monster, playing the unbearably alien melody of people's nightmares.
I had never had such a "bad trip", not even after eating canned mushrooms by mistake (don't buy mushrooms from a gypsy, if you want to live!), but I was really pissed and puffed up! I was awakened by a sensation that could be compared to the consequences of no, not drinking, being a punching bag for a group of young kick-boxers who were actively training on me.
My head hummed like a beehive, and it seemed just as empty. My breathing was rapid and intermittent, and the general weakness made me whimper like a damn bitch. I was beginning to think I had overdone my plan and the assault on the camp would have to be postponed for a month or two, but I was recovering quickly along with my replenishing reserves. A day, maybe two, and I'd be back to normal, ready to punish and pwn.
Speaking of overpowering...
"Tin! Ah, Tin!" It wasn't the evil assassin who tried to drill me in the temple, but Taria, who looked indecently cheerful. "And your eyes are as red as a bloodsucker's!"
"Where in Random's name have you seen vampires and seen their eyes?" I could barely articulate in my parched throat. "There were no vampires in the Kraj. I would have known."
I take a flask of seemingly ice-cold water from the smiling girl's hands, and then begin to drink it greedily. I pour the rest of the water on my face, washing off the sticky sweat and dust. The sun was shining in the zenith, but it had not yet broken through the trees that sheltered the camp. The lazy creatures called horses grazed quietly, and even the one that was destined to be my curse was surprisingly calm.
"I didn't, but a girlfriend told me, and she was told by the adventurer who fucked her." She answered unabashedly, taking the empty flask from my hands. "You gave us all a good scare, by the way. I mean, I wasn't scared, of course, but those two almost shit themselves with horror!"
Hans's precisely thrown cone interrupted the flow of self-praise from Taria, who gestured to the pathfinder where he could go and where he would live in the future.
"What had happened?" My strength was coming back surprisingly quickly, but I was still in no hurry to get back into a normal position for fear of dizziness and nausea.
"At some moment, you reeked of natural creepiness, Tin, and not your usual kind of creepiness." I may have been terse, but it was easy for Losius to figure out exactly what I meant. "It didn't last long, after which you took control of it, but for a moment, I'd swear to Heaven, something not good hovered around you. A sense of threat, to say the least, insisted on running away."
"Would you take a look at Status?" Hans advised, polishing his boots.
Instead of opening the system tray, I spend a few more hours quickly coming to my senses, washing my face again, and even taking a few quick steps through the Shadow to get the sweat and dirt off my body. If anyone knew that I was using such a nightmarish and dangerous realm as a washing machine, they would probably only wag their finger at their temple.
For me it's good.
After a couple of hours, a quick lunch, a few jokes (one of which was really funny), I got myself into a state of mind that could be called normal. Well, or a distant semblance of it. In any case, I was ready to look at my Status and understand what the night had gifted me with. It was quite a gift, though I had expected... not more, but still different.
As always, dream walking opens up a new side of itself at the most unexpected fucking moment in time. At least the name of the class, which seemed a little wrong before, became clearer. Apparently, in Alurei, dreams and reflections are two sides of the same coin. After a quick read of the bonuses I received, I closed my Status, stretched sweetly, and decided to have another snack.
My comrades-in-arms, thanks to them, didn't press me about my promotions one bit, though Taria was restrained only by the aristocrat's stern gaze and Hans's firm fist. It is not customary here to pressure in such matters, though if I had asked them to show my status, I would have gotten what I wanted in an instant. But loyalty and friendship are a thing not to be abused.
It wasn't until I was fully recovered, which happened almost towards evening, when Taria defeated Losius by almost an entire gold coin in rock-paper-scissors, that I decided to drill down into the system data again, and this time to figure it out in its entirety. However, I'm focusing all of my attention on the class that raised the rank.
"Status."
Class: Master of Dreams and Reflections
Rank: 2
Basic characteristics: dreams, concentration, perception
Abilities:
Create a dream: 5/5
Allows you to control the dream you are in, influencing the course of time; allows you to directly control the situations and plot of the dream; allows you to create complex, intricate, and variable scenarios for individual and group dreams; allows you to understand what scenes will cause the maximum response from the sleeper; allows you to create complex scenarios for multiple dreams that haunt the victim for a long time; allows you to control dream material and fight for control over other people's dreams even if other entities actively oppose you; allows you to strike at entities living in dreams and pursue them if they escape; allows you to create separate constructs that can have a limited effect on dreams you create; increases the characteristics of Dreams by +5.
Send a dream: 5/5
It allows you to instantly put yourself into a dream, as well as clearly understand the boundaries of reality and sleep; allows you to easily enter the dream of an intelligent being next to you, if it itself is asleep; allows you to masterfully gather information from other people's dreams; allows you to know the nature and thoughts of sleeping beings; allows you to easily seize control over another's dreams and keep a sleeper in the dream world without letting him awaken; allows you to skillfully influence a sleeper's subconscious, putting the right ideas and behavioral matrices; allows you to create shared dreams for several sleepers; allows you to forcefully leave anchors in other people's dreams, which can be used to find the marked person if he or she is asleep, even at great distances; allows you to create complex structures and independent long-lasting scenarios in dreams; allows you to kill a sleeper right in his or her sleep; increases the characteristic of Dream by +5; increases the characteristic of Concentration by +5.
Soaring in the Dreams: 1/7
Allows you to draw Dream energy into reality, accumulate it in a limited way, control it, and attack with it; the accumulated energy has very limited plasticity and degree of variability of influence on Reality, being limited to the simplest effects.
Edge of reflections: 0/7
The weaving of Dreams: 1/7
Allows you to create complex and multi-dimensional structures in the dream world; with the application of maximum power, it allows you to generate lively Dreams within your woven dreams.
[undisclosed]
Bonuses:
Dreamer: social and magic skills associated with the class grow five times faster; no one has power over your dreams but yourself.
Undeterred: the concentration grows faster.
In dreams and in reality: allows you to work with the matter of Dreams while in the real world; allows you to enhance the manifestation of Dreams in certain parts of reality, but only if the necessary conditions are met.
Reflected: reflections in mirrors have a certain chance of showing you more than reality itself, revealing to you the past, the present, and even the future.
[undisclosed]
A lot of thoughts, but not all of them are clever. I mean, I'm happy about the rank I got, and even about the ability I discovered, but that's not what I expected. Although, to be honest, I can't even tell myself what I expected from my class rank upgrade. First of all, of course, the tool of endless overpower and humiliation of everything and everyone.
However, I have enough of them as it is... If only my opponents and competitors didn't have at their disposal a much larger number of carefully prepared for many years spanner, that would be fine, yes.
The final development of dream creation, strangely enough, pleased me, although it added very few new features. And I'm not happy about the five free stats in Dreams, but about the seemingly insignificant clarification on the creation of complex algorithms. In fact, as I understand it, this thing will allow me to take the creation of training dummies to an entirely different level, previously inaccessible to me. I'll be able to create full-fledged opponents who can really fight and train my comrades-in-arms.
I bet a handful of gold on the fact that it was from this skill that Dreamweaving had already developed. I had to think about it - at first, I had trained dream creation to a top, but the bar I had set was too high, so the strain of all my strength allowed me to develop the next level of my ability.
On this background, the possibility of creating my own nightmares looks very interesting, like the one that almost devoured the little idiot I-already-really-fucked-up-remember-your-name. The prospects are really interesting, primarily for information gathering and possible training. What could be better than a programmable training golem? Only a golem that has its own mind and is capable of self-training!
The second of the unlocked abilities, which was automatically unlocked to me after I took the second rank, allowed me to do quite a lot. Thoughts swarmed in my head about how I turn reality into my dreams, after which I begin to administer there as if I were God himself. Alas for me, I know clearly - that very intuitive knowledge-that is not a combat skill at all, but rather a reinforcing one, meant to support me. I also include the new perk, which gives me the ability to gradually strengthen my powers in a separate section of reality. And even though I don't know in my heart what conditions I have to meet to do it, no one canceled the empirical way.
The last skill, it seems to me, is strongly related to the clairvoyance aspect of my class. So is the class perk that allows me to see things in reflections that aren't there. I have noticed before that my reflection in the mirror behaves irregularly - for example, it could not be fooled by the initial skill of shadow stealing, although only I myself could see the disturbance in the illusion depicted.
Now, I'm sure I could use the mirror (or any other reflective surface) as a hub for my visions. It's a useful feature, though it's far from combat, it's still useful. I can rely on shadows in combat, but dreams and mirrors will be my main tools in terms of subtle and unobtrusive influences.
In short, I had a good night, albeit in a slightly strange way.
Not in such a vulgar way.
If you don't bring up the fact that I fucked a bunch of people in the brain, that doesn't count!
The gathering was quite chaotic, but far from hurried. The horses, by the way, were escorted to one of the wooded glades at the back of the tree wall, so as not to attract unnecessary attention.
Since "our" four on duty were soon to be replaced by the new four, we decided to wait for the newcomers. First, new information and new suicide bombers for Taria's ability. Second, a longer time window, for another three days of complete silence in our direction would not hurt us at all. And thirdly, there was no need to rush forward - the enemy was not going to get away from us, and it was better to save the slaves when we were as ready as possible.
Another painful thing for me was the serious ruining of my carefully nurtured alchemical cache. Most of the really good and non-threatening enhancers, along with the hardest poisons and almost all of the gas grenades, were expropriated for our needs. On the one hand, it would be possible to gather new ingredients, brew new potions, and such, but on the other hand - many reagents I had only encountered in the swamps or near Kraj, and in this area, it is unknown whether they are found. Even though we're still very close to the Wildlands, we're still not directly within them.
"Okay, guys, here's the plan." They may have heard it all before, but a final pump-up won't hurt anyone (especially Taria). "I go in first and deal with the Preacher, damaging the barriers surrounding their camp as best I can. After that, your turn - drink potions, just do not confuse who what, and start removing patrols. It's best to approach from the side of the swamps."
"That's what confuses me," Losius commented. "There are plenty of undead out there if the interrogation is to be believed. Especially a lot of ghosts near the camp itself.
"Certainly there are a lot of them if you count all the culls whose corpses they dump in there. Considering the way they died, the spontaneous rise is not surprising at all. And it's far from spontaneous. I'm sure those things are deliberately using the undead as another layer of defense in case anyone tries to get at them through the marshes. But you'll have a repellent that can make you uninteresting to the lesser undead, and a couple of silver essence bombs so you can fight off someone serious."
"Are you still sure there's something serious there?" Hans asks grumpily. The man trusts my gut, and that's why he grumbles - he doesn't want to stick his neck into a prearranged trap.
"They have a mage of death and as many as three necromancers. And even though the entire company of necrophiliacs isn't there right now, even one is enough to activate the trap. If I were them, I would definitely use corpses for such a trap. That's why you'll have to walk along the very edge of the marshes without going into the grave pit area. The only place that reeks directly of death in that area."
"Are you sure you don't want to use the undead yourself?" Taria's voice came up, asking her favorite question of the last few days."You said there were ways to piss off the dead and get them out of the necromancer's control."
"There is, but it's too risky." Once again, I dismiss her idea. "We're not the necromancers here, they are. That means they have something in mind for such an occasion. At the very least they can drive the corpses away, even if they don't regain control of them. And I don't want to catch those rotten bastards all over the woods afterward. So, no, save that vial for last resort, or if the moment is obscenely convenient."
Actually, I didn't doubt that the out-of-control zombies would do us some good, but I didn't want to risk the lives of others. Primarily the lives of those who would encounter the undead scattered through the woods. It's not just the bandits who live in this neighborhood. That's why I said I would only free the undead as a last resort.
The undead themselves reminded me of Schrodinger's cat, either they are or they aren't. All I could see with the shadow sphere was an area of marsh soaked in death and decay, where the corpses had been dumped. The clairvoyance said it was a trap with the living dead, but did not specify the mechanism of the trap. I had to work my ass off and act on a minimum of facts.
In any case, I'm pretty sure that the flasks of concentrated essence of silver given to the boys (and girls!) will cut or seriously injure even a certain death knight. And it's definitely not there - the background is too weak.
Going back to the plan, I attack the main mass of the enemy when you begin to be pressed, squeezing into the swamp. There, if anything happens, Ygra will cover you. Until your triumphant appearance on the scene, I'll be killing their cronies, and you'd better bide your time so as not to make a fuss before I've dealt with most of their elite. And now we all repeat our roles.
The team immediately began to repeat, one by one and without any interruptions, the steps of the plan and the sections assigned to them. Fortunately, there were no fools here (mirror, shut up!), so everyone understood the necessity of our actions. Even disgruntled Taria.
I never thought that the experience I had gained in the offices in organizing corporate events would come in handy in a case like this. Let the experienced Hans help me, let my clairvoyance protect me from mistakes, but for the first time, I felt like a commander. It came out even too easily and naturally as if something invisible led me in the right direction - I am more and more amazed by the heroic title and its effects.
After another hour, when I was sure everyone had memorized the information, we began to move toward the new four sentries, who were still unaware of their problems. Now I had to work as a team, and I had to carry the team on my back at times. But I'm not the least bit frustrated by that.
Now it's not only my war.
And I'm not alone anymore.
* * *
Authors note:
That's it.
There were two crits - for developing Dreams and for the diversion in the Dreams. And grinding is not pure, and at the expense of bonuses, but the creation of a massive nightmare for 200 + people - it's a serious crit for MC. In principle, the bonus from the crit is not so good but simplifies the situation very, very much.
And the brigands also got a lot of bonuses. A barrier, six elites, a trap with the undead... Lots of.
Another lucky thing about Losius and his inquisitor brother was that they managed to find one of the most insidious tricks I'd ever cooked up.
I was so hoping to have a fun massacre instead of a quiet operation as soon as it started, but I guess that's not going to happen.
That's it.
I want back home.
