The Land: Predators Read online

  Nothing in the profile raised any red flags at all, with one exception. Richter’s Analyze skill had leveled after examining the hundreds of prisoners released from the goblin encampment. Reaching skill level fifteen had added a new capability. He could now see buffs, debuffs and other active effects of those he used his skill on. The prisoners’ active effects had been a predictable mix of Exhaustion, Dehydration, Malnutrition and an assortment of diseases, injuries. and other negative effects. Despite having used Analyze on thousands of people, he hadn’t seen anything like what he was seeing on Randolphus’ status page. When he focused on “Present and Unknown” a further explanation appeared.

  Your skill in Analyze is insufficient to identify any current effects on Randolphus but is sufficient to recognize the presence of one or more unknown effects.

  “You may stop using your identification skill upon me, my lord. It will not truly work unless I allow it.” Randolphus said in his cultured, but tired-sounding, voice. Richter tried to hide his surprise but knew he’d probably failed. No one had ever detected him using his Analyze skill before. It didn’t require an incantation or any hand movements. So how did Randolphus know?

  Before Richter could ask, one of the chamberlain’s eyes twitched, and he said, “You will most likely have better luck now.”

  Before Richter’s very eyes, Randolphus’ face… changed. He was the same man, but his features became rougher, his bearing was more dominant and his eyes… His eyes were predatory in a way that Richter had never seen before. Randolphus seemed to exude an aura of danger that had not been present just a moment ago. It was as if a sheer cloth had been removed from a statue, revealing the powerful visage beneath. Richter realized that all he had seen in the past was a mere shadow of the man he was seeing now.

  His ears were slightly pointed. Not like an elf’s, with one sharp upturned point, but instead like they formed a pentagon with curved angles. They sat somewhat flat against his head and at a right angle. To Richter. they looked like the graceful sweep of a fish’s side fins. Randolphus’ skin also had a slight bluish cast, most notably in his lips.

  Strangely, looking at the man without whatever illusion he had just shed made Richter want to trust him even more than before. The energy radiating off him was both intoxicating and reassuring.

  Randolphus spoke, and the voice had the same cultured tone but was commanding in a way the chaos seed hadn’t heard it before. “Use your skill again now, Lord Richter.”

  The chaos seed’s hand was now firmly clasped around the hilt of his hidden dagger, but he did as Randolphus suggested. Alma’s wings were flared and the spines on her neck had risen. She stared intensely at the chamberlain, ready to unleash hell if he threatened her master. Richter’s eyes widened in shock at what he could now see.

  CHAPTER 11 – Day 141 – Kuborn 31, 0 AoC

  Name: Ran’dolphinius

  Race: Half-Human/Half-Undine

  Profession: Rogue

  Disposition: Trusting

  Level: 47

  Specialty: Spy

  Focus: Counterintelligence

  STATS

  Health: 581

  Mana: 412

  Stamina: 353

  ATTRIBUTES

  Strength: 29

  Agility: 54

  Dexterity: 52

  Constitution: 43

  Endurance: 32

  Intelligence: 36

  Wisdom: 57

  Charisma: 59

  Luck: 57

  DESCRIPTION

  Racial blends are erratic in their disposition and powers. The offspring of such a union can inherit all or none of their parent races’ characteristics.

  A thousand questions flew into Richter’s head. He didn’t know what to ask about first. The man wasn’t even human! It wasn’t like the chaos seed had a problem with nonhumans. If anything, the humans he’d met since coming to The Land had a bigger chance of being a’holes. Still, that seemed like a really basic thing to let a guy know about.

  Looking at the man’s stats, Richter saw that Randolphus’ build was fairly well balanced. It occurred to the chaos seed it was somewhat strange applying game terms to real people, but the term “build” definitely still fit. That observation came and went quickly though. There were too many hanging questions to give it more than a moment’s thought.

  What was a Focus? Exactly how many points did the chamberlain get per level? What did his abilities and marks mean? Of course, that wasn’t even the most striking thing. Randy, Ran’dolphinius Richter corrected himself, was level forty-seven. Forty-seven! Richter hadn’t met many who were that high a level before. Fewer still that weren’t actively trying to kill him. The chaos seed had to hope that was still the case here. On top of all that, Randolphus was a Spy? And what the ever-loving hell was a Focus?

  Deciding he wanted an answer to his last question first, Richer opened his mouth to speak, but Randolphus beat him to the punch.

  “There are many things I have to say to you, Lord Richter, but foremost among them is this: I am sorry. I am sorry that I have deceived you. I am sorry that you had to ask me to reveal this secret to you. Many times, I almost broached the subject,” he sighed and shook his head, “but the last several months have passed in a blur. Most of all, my lord, I am sorry that I allowed that woman to attack you so savagely.”

  There was real regret and remorse in his voice. It occurred to Richter that a Spy could probably lie well enough to fool the devil himself, but still, he couldn’t help but want to believe the man. Still, the content of what he was saying made Richter tighten his grip on the hilt of his enchanted dagger.

  “Are you telling me you conspired with the Assassin to do-” he swallowed hard, his throat growing dry, “to do what she did to me?” If Ran’dolphinius said “yes,” then only one of them would leave this room alive.

  “No,” the Spy answered. An almost imperceptible amount of tension eased in Richter’s shoulders, but his eyes still remained fierce and locked on the man sitting across from him. Ran’dolphinius’ voice was still sorrowful and his gaze remained unwavering. “I did not know she was an Assassin. I only knew that something did not quite add up about her. I told myself that it was due to the harsh abuse she said she had suffered at the hands of the mercenaries. A story we both now know was a complete falsehood.”

  “Oh,” Richter responded hollowly. The horrors of that night still made him break into a cold sweat. Knowing there wasn’t some conspiracy did help a bit though, and the beating of his heart eased. “I don’t blame you for what happened. I was taken in by her damsel-in-distress act too.”

  Ran’dolphinius shook his head, “You do not understand. I am trained to detect such falsehoods. That is the very purpose of my Focus. If I had not been so concerned with keeping my own secrets, I would have seen through her lies.” He paused for a moment and sighed deeply. “I have not just been pretending to be Randolphus. No matter how skilled an act, there are magics that can see through such deceptions. Sumiko’s spell, for instance.” He trailed off, looking at Richter meaningfully.

  The chaos seed blinked. Ran’dolphinius had just admitted that he had been able to beat Sumiko’s Soul Window spell. That spell was the primary way that he ensured the loyalty of everyone in the village. One of the questions that everyone answered was, “Do you mean Lord Richter any harm?” If the Spy had been able to deceive the Life master regarding some of the questions, then he definitely could have lied about that question as well.

  The two men looked at one another as Ran’dolphinius read his face. The series of conclusions that Richter was drawing were inevitable and inescapable. The hand holding the hilt of the dagger grew slick with sweat. A cold pit formed in his stomach. Richter prepared himself, physically and emotionally, to plunge the blade into the chest of a man he had trusted almost above all others. The Rogue recognized the murder in Richter’s eyes… and he did nothing.

  The moment dragged out even longer. If the Spy had made even the slightest of movements t
o attack or defend himself, the chaos seed would have attacked. Instead, the half-undine just waited for whatever would come. A full minute passed until Richter commanded in a tightly controlled voice, “Continue.”

  His gaze never wavering, Ran’dolphinius spoke, “I am able to conceal my identity so effectively not because of my skills as a Rogue or Talents as a Spy. I can do it because of my heritage. Water magic is the magic of change, illusion, and befuddlement. One of the gifts from my mother was an ability, Undine’s Deception, that allows me to become someone else. I do not pretend to be Randolphus. I actually transform into that identity.”

  “You can shape-change?” Richter asked. If that were true, the chamberlain was even more powerful than he had thought.

  “No, Lord Richter. The change is not external, though there is clearly some of that as well,” he responded, gesturing to his alien facial features. “The change I undergo is deep and internal. I can adopt the persona of a false identity so completely that almost nothing can pierce the falsehood. The physical change is only the smallest part of my ability.”

  Ran’dolphinius’ face grew regretful again before he continued, “The downside is that using my ability also reduces my capabilities. That is what I have to apologize for, my lord. That is my shame. If I had not been using my Undine’s Deception to actually become Randolphus, I would have been able to detect Sonirae’s falsehoods. I could have prevented Terrod’s capture and saved you from the atrocious acts she committed. Because I was more concerned with protecting my own secrets, I cut myself off from my Specialty and thereby lacked the ability to pierce her deception.”

  Ran’dolphinius bowed his head, finally breaking eye contact, but not before Richter read the shame on his face. That, coupled with his sincere tone, made the chaos seed sigh. Relaxing ever so slightly, he made a suggestion, “Maybe you should start from the beginning.”

  Randolphus, or Ran’dolphinius, nodded and began to speak, “I am older than I appear. The father of the current King of Yves was not only my liege. He was also my nephew.” With that bombshell, Richter’s eyes widened. Now the guy was fucking royalty?

  “No, Lord Richter,” Ran’dolphinius easily reading his face. “I can never sit atop the throne of Yves. Even if every other member of the bloodline died, I agreed to an unbreakable geas one hundred and two years ago. I have already told you that the royal palace was built upon a Dungeon that was in turn built upon a Place of Power. The ley lines of Fire, Water, Air, and Earth intersect to form the nexus of Powers. The Dungeon reflects this. It is called the Hall of Elemental Hunters, and creatures strong in those four Basic Elements call it home.

  “It is not widely known,” the Spy continued, “that not all creatures which call a Dungeon home are monsters. One day, my father, the grandfather of the current king, was dungeon diving and came upon a lake of cool clear water. The story goes that the air was warm. Steam rose from the surface of the water, and the banks of the pool were covered in soft mosses and fragrant flowers. My father told me that it was one of the most serene and beautiful settings he had ever seen, or would ever see. They would have distrusted it immediately, having found it in the Labyrinth, but it was a Shambhala.”

  “Shambhala?” Richter asked.

  Ran’dolphinius sighed, “There is much for you to learn, Lord Richter. Dungeons have many rules, as does the Labyrinth as a whole. Some rules are transient. They can change and shift based on something as ephemeral as the position of the sun in the sky. Others, however, are sacrosanct and eternal. One of the oldest and most honored are the Shambhala. No violence will be perpetrated by the denizens of any Dungeon, or even the Labyrinth, against an Adventurer in such a place. Similarly, any Adventurer that causes harm while in a Shambhala will forever lose the Mark of the Adventurer and will gain the Curse of the Labyrinth.”

  “And that is?” Richter asked, pushing down the irritation he always had when people explained concepts with other unknown concepts.

  “I do not actually know, Lord Richter. No one I have ever known has been foolish enough to break the peace of a Shambhala or earn the curse in another way. It is said, however, that death is a welcome release from the torments it inflicts.”

  Richter nodded for him to continue.

  “The King’s party had been diving through the Labyrinth for days. They were nearing the end of their return journey and the entrance to their Dungeon was in sight when they were attacked by monsters both fell and numerous. They tried to retreat, but the enemy had chosen their ambush site well. The party was far from a Node and had to fight their way to safety.” Richter wanted to ask another question but decided not to interrupt. “Two of their members died in the opening salvo of the battle. Every surviving member was injured. Exhausted, low on potions and mana, they were lucky to find the Shambhala. After binding the worst of their wounds, they lost consciousness.

  “When they finally awoke, they saw something that they had never expected. The Shambhala was home to a small tribe of naiads. Water nymphs,” he clarified at seeing Richter’s lack of comprehension.

  “Oh!” Richter exclaimed. Nymph was a word that he recognized. He doubted there was any red-blooded male, or too many geek females, that hadn’t had a wistful daydream about finding a wood nymph that they could “comfort.”

  Ran’dolphinius’ bluish lips pulled back in a faint smile and Richter caught a glimpse of his sharpened teeth. The chaos seed pulled back slightly and an inch of the blade he still clenched cleared the scabbard before he could stop himself. Even with Randy’s new, somewhat alien visage, he had started to relax. Those teeth weren’t made for eating corn though. They were made to rend flesh.

  Seeing Richter’s reaction, the mirth left the half-undine’s face. He continued in a smooth and level voice, “One of the King’s party members was so surprised that, despite being in a Shambhala, he almost attacked when the naiad touched his face. Luckily for him, he forestalled his sword strike. It didn’t take long before all the Adventurers were enjoying the comforts of the naiad’s tender mercies. If the King had been content to enjoy himself with his men then I would most likely never have been born, but his arrogance was as legendary as his strength.

  “The story goes that he strode out into the waters and called for the queen naiad to come and slake his “thirst.” Some versions of the telling even state that he dipped his manhood into the waters and shouted, ‘I am a grower and a shower! The coldness of these waters cannot shrink my spear!’” Ran’dolphinius shook his head with a faint smile, “That may have been simple hyperbole, Lord Richter, but what is known is that something heard his boastful call and decided to teach a painful lesson to my arrogant father.”

  “I thought you said no one could harm anyone else in a Shambhala?” Richer interrupted.

  “There are more ways to enact revenge that simply harming someone, Lord Richter. At times, all that is required is to give them what they ask for. There was no queen naiad, but the Dungeon had evolved to the point that each Power could manifest an Avatar, a physical embodiment of a Basic Element. In this case, the Water ley line appeared as a powerful undine. The elemental took the form of a beautiful, winged naiad and she lay with the King, fulfilling his every desire.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a revenge,” Richter said.

  “Ah,” Ran’dolphinius replied with the tone of a teacher. His face may have changed, but his voice was still pure aristocrat, “so others have also thought. You must remember, however, that the powers of an undine lie in illusion and misdirection. She enchanted the men of the party so that a single night of pleasure actually lasted an entire month. It is true that no harm can be perpetrated within a Shambhala, but such was the beauty of the naiads that when the undine asked each man a simple question, “Can we please you forever?” they all acceded. Thrice she asked each of them, and thrice they agreed. As they stayed under the undine’s power of their own free will, the elemental’s spell did not break the law of Labyrinth. I believe you may have already learned this le
sson, but I shall repeat it nonetheless. In The Land, your words have power. This is doubly true if said to a woman.”

  Richter nodded. He had indeed learned that lesson. And the second part about women was a lesson he’d learned too many times while still on Earth.

  “The King’s party might have stayed there until they died, trapped in pleasure. Fortunately, as arrogant as the King was, he also engendered great loyalty. A cadre of Adventurers loyal to him, Specialists all, fought through the Dungeon. They searched for weeks and finally found their liege. Once they entered the Shambhala, the enchantment was broken. The naiads left the embrace of their lovers and dove back into the pool, disappearing forever.

  “The cries of pleasure that had been echoing through the Shambhala turned to wails of sorrow and anger. Two of the King’s party had died from neglect while under the Undine’s enchantment. They had sought pleasure above even their own need to eat and drink. The others were malnourished. Despite their anger and weakness, it is said they all still reached towards their disappearing lovers. One drowned himself in a river weeks later in the vain hope he might find his lost love. It was the King who suffered most though,” Ran’dolphinius finished. Richter couldn’t help but notice that a note of bitterness had worked its way into the round pear-shaped tones of the man’s voice.

  “The undine revealed her true form a moment before leaving the King. What had been a beautiful woman of perfect proportions became a scaled humanoid with sharp teeth and a fish-like appearance. She spoke to him one final time as the naiads’ fled, ‘Honor your Vow.’ Then her body dissolved into water, and she was gone.