CHAPTER 144: THE GILDED SPIRE OF THE NYMAN

If the Orc capital was a fusion of iron and violence, and the Minotaur capital a land of sunlight and serenity, then the Undead capital, the Grand Necropolis, was a chilling blend of gloom and dread. Ryan had a particular respect for those who had been born there and managed to rise to higher levels—their mental resilience had to be extraordinary.

The Undead attracted players with a taste for the morbid, and there were plenty of them. They had always ranked among the three most popular races, and even after new factions were added in later updates, their numbers never faltered. True to its name, the Grand Necropolis lay beneath the earth. Above it stretched the Undead heartland, a vast surface map designed for level 10 to 20 adventurers, where quests unfolded in a perpetual twilight.

Among the Dark Horde, no other race boasted as many spellcasting professions as the Undead. So when Ryan appeared in the capital, he drew notice almost immediately. He found himself in the Mage Quarter, a cavernous hall where green ghost-flames burned endlessly. A Goblin dressed like a pirate stepping through the teleportation portal was bound to catch attention. The mages didn’t approach him outright, but their whispers carried easily through the cold, echoing chamber.

Ryan loathed it here. He waited as long as necessary for the death knights of the Necrotic Quarter to escort him into the depths, where Arch-Lich Valnar resided. After playing through the familiar plot sequence, he wasted no time: one touch of his Hearthstone whisked him back to Astral City. He had endured enough. This was only the first generation of the game, when the atmosphere was still bearable. In later updates, when the Grand Necropolis grew even darker and more oppressive, Ryan swore he would never return unless it was to lead a raid to burn the place to the ground.

Back in Astral City, he offered a silent salute to the players who had chosen the Undead and endured their starting zones. Then he turned his steps toward the Night Elf capital. By now, he no longer needed to disguise himself with the Savory Deviate Delight. He showed his true appearance when meeting with Yigael Starfall, High Priestess of the Night Elves, to advance his quest. From that point onward, Ryan no longer had to rely on Astral City’s teleportation portals. Instead, he could rent a flying mount directly from the Gryphon Master and ride to the other Alliance capitals as he pleased.

One by one, he sought out Dwarf King Jinhan Ironhammer and Human King Galvin Banre. When the last meeting was done, the long chain of his unique quest, Diplomatic Alliance, finally came to a close.

A new quest immediately appeared before him:

—

King of the Nyman: You have successfully completed the task given to you by Agu, the Nyman Shaman. You may now report back to him. He is currently embroiled in a power struggle among the Nyman. Perhaps you could lend him a small hand?

Quest Objective: Speak with Agu 0/1; Escort Agu from the Nyman’s Lair 0/1.

Quest Reward: Nyman Revivalist Reputation (Exalted); Swift Marsh Drake (Legendary); Experience 180,000; Gold 125]

—

Ryan’s eyes widened when he read through the quest rewards. Was this really the payoff for completing a unique quest? A legendary item?

In every era of the game, there were barely one or two legendary items in existence, each hidden behind sprawling chains that often broke small guilds apart. Yet here it was: the final reward promised him a legendary mount, something no player had ever seen before. Was it faster than other mounts? Did it have special abilities? He had no idea, but the thought alone set his pulse racing.

Barely containing his excitement, Ryan hurried out through the Stormhold Fortress portal and set course for the Dreadful Mire.

The quest didn’t spell out Agu the Shaman’s exact location, but Ryan could guess well enough. The Nyman Cave had the highest concentration of Nyman anywhere on the map; their lair had to be inside. His good mood made him careless, though. On the way he blundered into swamp traps again and again—seven, maybe eight in total. Each left him hobbling under a fresh debuff, his character looking battered and mud-caked. Still, nothing could dampen the thrill of what waited ahead.

As soon as he stepped inside the cave, Ryan realized the quest gave him temporary neutral standing with the Nyman. They didn’t attack, letting him move deeper without incident. The further he went, the more it struck him that this cave wasn’t the one he remembered.

He had been here once before on a different quest, and back then the layout had been another story. That attempt had ended in failure when someone else hadn’t completed the unique chain. The pursuers from the Elemental Plane had swept in and wiped out everything in the deeper levels. In later eras, those collapsed tunnels would remain sealed forever. But right now, the paths lay wide open before him.

The deeper he went, the stronger the Nyman became. The monsters he recalled being level 31 or 32 now appeared as professionals at level 35, 36, even 37. They moved in patrols, disciplined and vigilant, like soldiers of an organized nation rather than the scattered swamp-dwellers he remembered. Ryan tightened his grip. These would no doubt be the major threat when it came time to fight his way back out.

The temptation to strike first gnawed at him. He considered thinning their ranks before the quest demanded it, but caution won out. If he provoked them now, he might complicate the mission beyond repair. So he kept his head down and pressed on.

The passages branched endlessly. Ryan soon lost track of where he was going. Twice, then three times, he circled back to the same dead-end path, the mini-map offering little help. Its spiderweb of twisting tunnels blurred into one another, making it impossible to tell the start from the end. He felt like a blind man stumbling through a maze, each wrong turn grating more on his nerves.

If the Nyman hadn’t been neutral thanks to the quest, he would have been finished already. Wandering in circles like this, his equipment durability would have dropped to zero before he even saw Agu, let alone escaped.

But frustration gave way to relief when his wandering finally led him to something extraordinary. Hidden at the end of a narrow passage was a vast hall of gleaming metal, its walls and arches forged from polished brass.

Ryan caught his breath. This was no ordinary cavern. He had found the heart of the Nyman’s lair— the Gilded Spire.