by A Uscila
With a creak, the tree fell down – right on the heads of a few unlucky fellows, too caught up with pursuit. Oblivious to their surroundings. A glorious sight – one that Wail could not help but gape at for a moment or two. Ignorant of the danger approaching as a few leather clad individuals were rushing in full-front. Daggers, axes and short-swords readied for the kill. A few coated in sheens of red and yellow. A pretty, yet lethal combination.
Before they could rip naïve little Wail limb from limb – a volley of arrows skewered every single one of them, followed by a familiar comment from behind.
“Are you suicidal all of a sudden or something? Stop playing around and get over here before the rest catch up!” – With eyes shooting lightning, Willow demanded, all the while releasing multiple arrows into the darkness beyond with smooth hand motions.
“Yeah yeah, don’t get your panties in a bunch…” – Wail mumbled in reply, uncharacteristically defiant. A stealthy grin creeping upon his facial features as the man snapped his fingers once again – leaving behind a farewell spark that slowly drifted towards the ground. Only to eventually expand into a portal – from which, as usual, Sorro crawled out. His fiery mane bristling, glistering ambers floating away from its’ ends.
“Damn it, I was about to…what the fu…” – Before the demon could even complain over the abrupt summoning, a swarm of hostiles pounced upon him – their weapons long readied for the kill, while the actions seemed fearless – “Fuck you Wail! I’ll get you back for this!” – Yet Sorro was far from willing to be put down, as he screamed in defiance to the sudden development. His spells kicking off in full swing - multiple fiery globes expanding in every direction. Consuming all who approached – leaving them with quite a bit more than just burns.
Wail could only cackle – pleasant thoughts flooding his mind, regardless of the circumstance. Satisfaction more than apparent over the merciless prank upon the devil, a sort of retribution, for all the tricks and jabs that Sorro has been throwing in Wail’s direction for a while now. A revenge that has been in the making for a while now. Heck, Wail felt so satisfied, that a proper sprint was no longer possible – his run constantly shifting out of the rhythm by spasms of laughter. Like a child that just successfully performed a well-thought out prank. Not the best time for it.
An explosion of crystal-clear blue and red erupted from behind – as a leather clad assailant attacked one of Wail’s bandit underlings. Cutting the poor man apart with crystal daggers, their transparent edges leaving behind a trail of ice upon any surface they came in contact. Jagged spikes of red ice forming upon the opened wounds – an expression of shock frozen upon the victim’s lifeless features.
With a surge – the assailant advanced towards the self-encumbered warlock, picking a target all too easy to dispose of. A sheen of blue trailing in pursuit of the attacker, his lithe form covered in a similar sheen, a hood hiding up any and all discernable features and no minion number one in sight. That lumbering corpse was getting increasingly useless by the minute.
Yet Wail was a burden carried by many, someone that would need to be reached only after getting through all those surrounding his persona. Thus a warrior clad in black plate intervened in a more than timely manner – a dark, double-edged blade swung furiously in an attempt to meet the pursuer. Black flame flickering in its’ wake, for the blade was ablaze in it. Caught unawares – the leather clad attacker reversed the intent in a split second, jumping back with both daggers held in front. Their edges directed towards the approaching sword, a clash inevitable. Once the weapons met, a flash of black and blue erupted – with the dagger-wielding attacker blown back from the sheer power of it. Slamming against a tree not too far from the starting position in enough force to disable the foe all-together. At least for a time.
In the wake of the clash, ice melted and turned to steam, while black flames licked at the surroundings unchallenged. Satisfied, the ally turned towards Wail only to peer at him from within the slits in his helm.
“Not the best time to rest, don’t you think?” – Bob asked, the sword in his hand still blazing, ready for any action – if it dared to approach.
“Don’t you start getting smart with me!” – Wail snarled in reply, his grin already replaced by a scowl. Dissatisfaction in the success of someone close plain to see, even when that success brought mutual benefit. Even if it was salvation.
“Bad mood, eh? Don’t worry, nobody will dare blame you for this development” – Unperturbed, Bob commented, as both soon turned to the opposite direction from the ever-approaching foe and shifted into a sprint. A tactical retreat – “…so it’s plan B?”
“Of course it’s plan B! What else is there?” – Wail – friendly as always. His mood somewhat worsened by how little effect his mean replies had on the soul-bound underling. It was as if the man kept on building up a resistance to the warlock’s mood swings. Impulsive ups and downs that Wail was himself quite aware of, but too reluctant to do anything about. After all – it was so much more pleasant to allow oneself to discharge all the negativity whenever the need arose, instead of constantly controlling and holding yourself back. Alternative Reality was indeed the right place for it, with all these non-player characters running about.
“Well…we could form a solid infantry line right here, while keeping a very slow retreat – all the while you rain fire upon their heads and burning most of them alive” – Unaware of Wail’s wicked inner-thoughts, the faithful underling voiced a suggestion, his voice echoing ominously from within the black helm he wore.
Caught off guard, Wail could only glare at him in disbelief. Was he placing acquired stat points into intelligence or something? The warlock could swear that the man kept on getting smarter by the day. A dreadful thought, since a smart underling would be much harder to control than a stupid one.
“…no. We’re sticking to plan B. Less losses that way”- He grumbled back.
With no need for further discussion, accompanied by a pleasant lack of any other unwelcome surprises – the two soon came out into a clearing in the deep forest. A field of dried grass and an occasional withered trunk. Groups of bandits scattered about in a disorganized retreat – each and every single one running towards a man-made earth-rampart. Its’ outstretched form forming a solid wall of defense as far as the eye could see – disappearing into the tree line on both sides. A ditch surrounded its’ sloped edge, while a haphazardly constructed wooden palisade stood on the highest point of the fortification. Made out of laid down logs – tied together by hemp-rope by the looks of it. Bow-wielding skeletal figures already ready and waiting atop its walkways. In the very center of the fortification – a gaping tunnel without any gate was present. Its’ only defense - a human wall of shields and spears. Their ranks pulled aside to allow retreating bandits to come through.
Wail smiled wickedly as he observed his baby – born out of evil, sadistic intentions.
Without much delay – the two soon retreated towards the entrance with the few remaining bandits, a swarm of foes already hot upon their trail. Completely undaunted by the defenses they faced.
Once within the fortress, both Wail and Bob ran onto the ramparts, meeting Embalmer already present there, saluting his arrayed lines of skeleton archers – a barrage of arrows loosed towards the enemy, just as the dark magician solemnly signaled with a hand motion. His attention turning towards the approaching two the next moment.
“This is absolutely wonderful, I’m so glad I stuck around with you guys. Haven’t had so much fun since I loosed my first reanimated corpse upon a group of newbies, freshly baked and still virgin to the ways of Alternative Reality! So what’s next on our agenda?” – Somewhat over-exited, the Embalmer announced, his words accompanied by excessive hand movements and a varying degree of expressions.
“Oh, let’s just say that they’re going to receive a warm welcome” – Wail displayed his signature smile that would make a baby cry as he replied. Obviously too caught up with the act of a supervillain.<
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“Delicious” – Embalmer’s smile broadened even more, his eyes turning towards the enemy once again. A large group of them charging towards the fortifications – about half of that clogging at the entrance, while the rest braved the ditch and the slope that followed. Each one running over piles of blackened, dried grass without a care in the world. Projectiles both magical and physical flying about to and from, the two sides completely preoccupied by the conflict.
Wail observed the ever-approaching forces in a somewhat detached manner, turning his gaze towards his own back lines – eyes cast upon quite a number of shambling corpses. Stationary and awaiting abuse. Eye’s catching the pale figure of minion number one. Idling about with no real purpose. What a freeloader. Wail could only furrow his brows in dissatisfaction.
“You can send them out now” – He said after turning to Embalmer, a satisfied nod following in reply as the necromancer energetically thrust both arms towards the enemy, all the while sneering from ear to ear. In reaction – the tide of undead rushed towards the ramparts. Jumping over without a moment’s delay and ramming into all they came across. Knocking down quite a few climbing the slope right back into the bottom of the ditch below.
Quite the sudden addition to the defenses and a somewhat effective way to gather-up the enemy even more.
As usual in such situations – Wail froze up and released Soul Syphon upon the heads of his enemies. Repeating the motion a few more times in relatively quick succession, as to make sure that most of those below were affected. A few arrows or icy projectiles coming in reply. Most missing – though a few did hit their marks.
You have received 341 frost damage.
Movement speed has been reduced by 20% for the next 5 seconds.
You have received 516 physical damage.
+61 health
+58 health
…
A series of messages following after in the corner of his vision. All that damage soon completely mitigated as the preparations were made, overwhelmed by the seemingly endless stream of health. Pangs of pain fading into numbness within seconds.
Satisfied with the results, Wail conjured a fireball in his right palm, making sure to channel plenty of mana into it. Feeding the ever-dancing flame like a loving mother – only to release it into the sky soon after. Watching it rise up and then slowly descend beyond the battle-lines, an earie light cast upon the heads of many an enemy. All the while transparent shadows twisted about his figure for a fracture of a second – Life Tap activating.
With swift hand motions, the fireball ripped apart and shattered into many fragments – falling in a wide area. Most missing their supposed marks - falling to the ground, instead of upon the foes. As with such a relatively slow descent and their back lines unclogged by a mass of forces, many simply dodged. An easy enough task – yet a faulty one. Something that many realized only once it was too late.
Slowly, the few fiery projectiles descended upon the ground – a bright, all-devouring blaze igniting in a fury the second heat reached the dry grass that lay about everywhere. With breath-taking swiftness and tenacity, the flames spread in every direction, catching many in its’ fury – unprepared and vulnerable. Bellows of anger and surprise, screeches of pain and despairing wails spread almost as fast as the fire. .
A breathtaking sight, without a doubt – both Wail and Embalmer gaped upon it with clear pleasure and awe. Both clearly of a common kind – twisted and sadistic.
Soon enough, the fires burned in a wide area all along their fortified position, numerous figures darting about and outside the chaotic flames while others attempted to push through the tide of the dead. A few of them set-aflame just like the living, yet seemingly undisturbed by the notion. Their reanimated bodies pouncing upon panicked foes in a fury.
“Hey, watch this” – Gloating like an insecure child, Wail turned towards the smiling Embalmer with a lifted hand. His motion freezing up for but a moment, once the warlock noticed Bob attempting to scratch his nose with the helmet still on. Hand too large to fit under its’ frame, yet the man still putting excessive effort towards the speculated objective – his attention anywhere but on the spectacle that was about to reach its’ crescendo. At least pretend you’re interested!
With a lackluster gesture, the warlock’s fingers finally snapped – a result far beyond the invested effort following after as an ear-numbing explosion took place beyond their fortifications – a dust-filled shockwave sweeping over the battlements moments later.
-4561 mana.
In a flash, the fires all around erupted in an all-consuming fury. Their vitality - fuel to the chain of explosions that took place, searing all those present within, until nothing but black, lifeless husks remained. A few, half-dead or terribly wounded fighters remaining for a time, until they too were finished off by feathered projectiles shot out from the still intact array of skeleton archers.
And with that, the assault was over, for those few that remained – mostly magicians and ranged classes, did not have it in them to continue the fight. An all-out rout more than likely. That is – if the bandits would allow it. For moments after the explosion took place, a barrage of arrows shot out from the right forest-edge, peppering the scattered enemy forces with a superbly accurate rain of projectiles. Wounding, killing and disabling most, while the remainder fled in a desperate rush. Their escape a matter of luck at this point. Without a doubt – the work of Willow and her rangers.
You have gained a level!
You have gained a level!
Congratulations! You have gathered 1000 souls.
*You have lost 1000 souls.
New spell learned!
A stream of messages soon came-to-be, popping into Wail’s view quite obnoxiously. Their content adding to the displeasure even more as the exchange of souls did seem like quite the slap to the face. Alternative Reality. It was at it again.
Sadly, Wail did not have enough time to properly check what he got, nor to pay attention to the materializing dark particles at the corner of his vision. For matters that demanded his immediate and uninterrupted attention came-up all of a sudden.
With a thundering that echoed across the horizon as if Thor himself descended – a wide line of riders came upon the warlock’s fortifications from behind. From the side that was not in fact, fortified. Their figures radiating white light, like an angel’s cloak – draped to shroud their outlines. An occasional scream of panic or agony slipping through all that racket.
“What the fuck…” – Both Embalmer and Wail exclaimed. Great minds think alike.
Chapter 58
Wooden heels clattered upon polished stone floor – as Princess walked through a spacious hallway in a brisk pace. Torches neatly arrayed on the walls illuminating his expensive attire – matching silken pants and tunic, the latter decorated in golden embroidery, an engraved leather belt tightened at the waist. A silver-encrusted mace hanging from his belt. With a wrinkled forehead in perpetual concentration – the man continued on without taking even a glimpse of his surroundings, eyes always directed forward – right at the twin-wooden doors that awaited at destination’s end. Once reached, Princess opened them up with an unhurried, yet powerful push – only to enter a relatively large chamber, its’ expanse lighted by a huge fireplace within its’ furthest wall. Fire crackling within, sparks jumping around, falling upon the stone floor beneath. Its’ surface a chiseled mosaic, masterfully done and shaped out into a scene of battle.
The chambers walls were decorated by hanging rugs and paintings of historical figures. Past lord’s and kings, scenes of battle and breathtaking sceneries. As Princess’s gaze slid across the walls – it stopped on a huge map, spanning the whole of the right wall – its’ contents depicting the whole of the known human world. Numerous kingdoms and city-states littered about on a continent not yet fully explored – its’ edges yet to be found, for humanity only inhabited, presumably, a relatively small portion of it. Surrounded on all sides by natural or simply hostile
obstacles.
The Kingdom of Onnion was one of the vanguard, yet somewhat safely-situated human countries – present on the very edge of human civilization, to the east. Its’ eastern border running along a relatively unexplored desolate land of no notable strategic value or having any known natural resources worth the effort. Its’ barren and dry lands inhabited by demons and all kinds of hostile creatures.
To the South – it bordered the neighboring kingdom of Valackis, home to fellow humans of a slightly darker skin tone. Their Southern-most borders running into a vast, yet uncharted sea.
Relations on both sides friendly, cooperative even, for to the south-west both countries bordered with the Iron edge mountains – an extensive mountain range of jagged rock and iron, the mentioned resource found there a-plenty, yet contested completely by the iron-beard dwarves that inhabited the land. “Inhabited” being said quite generously, for their Hold spanned across a miniscule territory – the influence over the mountains in constant shift due to numerous goblin tribes that were native to the region. Yet neither of the neighboring human kingdoms dared to challenge the dwarf claim – for they were a tenacious people, whose surface possessions weren’t even an echo of what their kingdom truly consisted of. It was only speculated – for not many humans were allowed within or deeper into their underground empire. But some said that the tunnels and halls they have carved out of the stone beneath the ground spanned thousands of miles in every direction. The threat of having their own castles and towns collapsed from below and the passive attitude held by the dwarves for hundreds of years, both a solid detriment from escalating conflicts.
