by G. D. Penman
Another arrow thumped into Jericho, a reminder of how hopeless the situation was. “I am thinking you talk too much, little mouse. I am thinking we kill you this time. Then kill you again and again until you give up. Would you give up, little mouse? If I asked you so nicely?”
Speckles eyes widened as he laughed. “No.”
“Then what is there to say, little mouse?” The Felidavan’s voice became a sultry moan. “Let our weapons speak for us.”
Speckles was starting to look frantic. Martin held up a hand to calm him. “Well, hold on. Why?”
“Why, little mouse? Because you are the enemy. You seek our end, so we must seek yours. This is the way of things.”
“The rest of the Felidavans are dead.” Martin was testing the water, trying to work out how much she already knew before just admitting it. “I released the Pit Fiend.”
“There is no dead, little mouse. Dead is not in Strata. Dead cannot be.” There was a distinct purr to the cat-girl’s voice now. Like she was warming to her subject. “They shall return, stronger and wiser for their defeat.”
“Maybe, but it won’t be today. There are, what? Four of you? At most.” Martin was finding the words came easier too, now they’d stopped actively trying to shoot him and the conversation had moved on to tactical evaluations. “You can’t hold all this territory alone. If you lose the pit, the ambush is worth nothing. If you lose the ambush site, the pit is worth nothing. Maybe you retreat, meet up with the rest of your little gang and come back to try again. But today? You’re done.”
“There are ten of us, not four. You lie about our losses. We kill you.” The Felidavan’s purr had gone. Her voice sounded harsh and mewling without it. “Then decide.”
“You’re smart enough to know that isn’t right. We had to come in through the pit fiend and all your friends, or we couldn’t be here. Which means you’re smart enough to know everything I’ve said to you is true. All your resources are gone. All except the four of you, and the two of us.”
Another throaty chuckle made the hair on the back of Martin’s neck stand up. He dreaded trying to identify which particular set of instincts were making his body react this way. “You are a ‘resource’ now, little mouse?”
He forced the smile back to his face in case she could hear the change in his tone. “I’m the solution to all your problems.”
Another purr. “I think that you just do not want to die, little mouse.”
“It makes no difference to me. I’d come back. Like you said. A few hours’ time, I’d be here again.” He shrugged, despite nobody being able to see it. “Death doesn’t live here. Remember?”
“Then why do you plead with us, little mouse?” She giggled.
“Because I know that you’re just like us.” Time to test a theory. “I know you’re people. People who got stuck in here.”
There was a hiss of indrawn breath. “You know nothing. We do not know what you say. We are born of Strata. We are her protectors.”
“I don’t want to fight you. We are on the same side here. We all want the crusade to be over.” He pushed on further, even though he could hear a whispered argument already starting to break out at the far end of the tunnel where they were camped out right on top of the Deep Gate. “The only difference is that you’re part of this world now. I’m not. I can still do it.”
Silence stretched out for a long time. The argument abruptly hushed, and the Felidavan called out to him. “I think you make guesses, little mouse. I think you have little frog friend you try to keep alive. Is this so?”
Now they were fishing for information, but honesty still seemed to be the best policy now that they were starting to build some rapport. “Yeah, I’ve got him right here beside me. He is how I know all about what happened to you guys.”
Her voice came out as a hiss. “You know nothing.”
Time for the biggest gamble yet. “Do you remember the sun?”
The moment stretched out in Martin’s awareness. He tightened his grip on the Creedblade. He nodded at Speckles to be ready. Speckles nodded back, although that might have meant anything. He was a terrible frog for just copying whatever somebody else was doing.
Then the Felidavans began to screech. Mewling and cat-like to begin with, then full bodies, human-sounding screams of terror, confusion, dread. Martin leapt over the sleeping Jericho and charged.
At the curve of the tunnel a single Felidavan had fallen to her knees, hands clapped over her pointed ears, eyes rolling up into her head. Kneeling, she was almost the exact same height as Martin. He hit her with Introit the moment she came into sight.
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 42 light damage]
The gonging sound knocked her back, and Martin followed her down, Creedblade flaring with Smite before he hammered it down into her chest with both hands.
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 24 light damage]
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 16 piercing damage]
Felidavan Ambusher has died.
Skaife gains 340 experience.
She had been the one talking with him, the one who he had become at least a little convinced was human underneath the fur. He had all the sympathy in the world for her, but none of that changed the simple fact that she had been in his way. She shouldn’t have got in his way.
Speckles bounded past, ricocheting off the wall and bouncing on around the curve, screaming out his own weird little gurgling battle cry.
The other two Felidavan were less distraught. Either they’d lost more of their memories of the world before or were just more mentally resilient. The tips of their arrows arced around to follow Martin and Speckles as they moved. Even a scratch from those envenomed arrows could end things. They were in his way.
Halo burst out around Martin, silhouetting him in golden light so bright that it blinded all who were looking his way, Speckles included.
Blind and lost, the little frog missed his footing, splatting against the wall before sliding down to the dust. A Felidavan’s hastily loosed arrow clattered off the stone where Speckle’s leap should have taken him next.
[MISS]
The arrow with Martin’s name on it flew true to the spot he’d been standing when he unleashed the halo, but he’d had enough sense to dive forward the moment his enemies became blind.
[MISS]
He kept on moving forward, scampering on all four limbs like a real rat, tucking his head down and crashing shoulder-first into the lead Felidavan’s legs. They collapsed together in a tumble of limbs and claws, hissing and squeaking. The primal clash between predator and prey played out in miniature. But Martin was no mere rat, and while his tiny kin might have only had cunning and teeth at their disposal, he had so much more. Celestial Strike lit up the tunnel, but the golden glow was soon tainted red.
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 11 light damage]
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 10 slashing damage]
Even as the light died in the blade and the Felidavan’s struggles slowed, Martin did not hesitate. His sword rose and fell again and again.
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 31 slashing damage]
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 29 slashing damage]
The other blind cat came blundering toward the noise, but Martin didn’t even look up from his butchery and hurled a Javelin of Faith to knock her from her feet.
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 24 light damage]
“Wait! I remember. I remember the sun! I remember…”
Martin’s sword came down and split the Felidavan’s pleading face in two.
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 34 slashing damage]
Felidavan Ambusher has died.
Skaife gains 340 experience.
Speckles let out another warbling wail. The Felidavan Martin had knocked back charged for the source of the sound, claws unsheathed. Blind eyes squeezed tight.
Martin met it head on. Or knees on, at least. The Creedblade swept through the reverse joints of the ambusher’s legs li
ke it was designed to fit.
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 29 slashing damage]
Falling forward with nothing left below its knees to support it, the cat skidded along the stone on his face, claws screeching over stone. Even blind, Speckles could work out where that sound was coming from. He had lost the little stone-headed spear that he’d been waving around when Martin first met him, and acquired some of Lindsay’s cast-off daggers instead.
He hefted one blade in both hands above his slimy head and unleashed froggy hell on the cat that had tormented him.
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 5 piercing damage]
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 7 piercing damage]
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 8 piercing damage]
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 9 piercing damage]
[Felidavan Ambusher has suffered 6 piercing damage]
Felidavan Ambusher has died.
Skaife gains 340 experience.
Speckles’ sight had returned by the time Martin caught him by the wrists to end his mutilation of the corpse.
“Enough.”
The little frog-man was breathing hard. His neck puffing out with every hyperventilation.
“It’s over Speckles. Just stop.”
Speckles panted, “Me do good?”
“You did great, buddy.” Martin patted the diminutive frog on the shoulders. “You did great.”
Taking a moment to survey the state of things, Martin sighed. “Can you shoot a bow?”
“Me can try?”
This all felt like the prelude to getting shot in the ass, but Martin wasn’t willing to give up such a potentially useful resource. “Gather up their arrows, take whichever bow is the best fit. I’m going to go wake up Jericho.”
As it turned out, that was easier said than done. Jericho was in bad shape by the time Martin arrived. The front side of his body had been peppered with arrows, every one of them slick with the Pit Fiend’s venom. A couple of doses had been enough to knock him out for what Martin calculated to have been about an hour. He dreaded to think how long Jericho would stay that way, and even if they encountered no resistance there was no way that he and Speckles could move the giant lump of a man. Martin considered his Healing Touch, but the poison status effect was not mentioned anywhere in its description. If there were specific abilities to remove poison, he didn’t have one.
What he did have was a sword, and Rite of Revival. “I’m not saying that I’m going to enjoy this, but I’m not saying that I’m not either.”
[Jericho has suffered 28 slashing damage]
[Jericho has suffered 30 slashing damage]
[Jericho has suffered 34 slashing damage]
He stopped for a moment to let his Stamina recover. “Damn you’ve got a lot of health.”
[Jericho has suffered 27 slashing damage]
[Jericho has suffered 34 slashing damage]
Jericho has died.
[Your Sin has increased by 1]
He was dangerously close to flipping over into Shadow Templar again, just a single kill would be enough, but that mark on his character would wash away as soon as they encountered some monsters.
The murder took a lot more effort than Martin had anticipated, but he had no time to dawdle and worry about it. In all likelihood, Jericho had just snapped back to consciousness in the black void beyond the dungeon with the respawn timer ticking away in front of him. Martin had to get him back on his feet before the stroppy tank could log out.
Rites took a little bit of time to perform compared to the instant gratification of most of the Exorcist’s abilities, but Martin dove right into it before there was time to second guess himself. The power gathered around his left hand, sunlight blazing bright behind his clawed fingers. he slapped that glowing palm down into Jericho’s chest. The ball of light vanished seamlessly through the furred giant’s skin. For a moment it seemed to do nothing, but then the light spread beneath the surface. A dull glow at first, but blazing brighter and brighter until it exploded out through the Wulvan’s mouth and eyes. Jericho’s back arched up as life flooded back through him.
Jericho has returned
Jericho roared up to grab Martin by the throat, bull-rushing him back to hit the wall. The Creedblade fell from Martin’s hands and clattered to the floor.
Teeth snapped an inch from Martin’s face. “You killed me!”
Martin couldn’t get words out. The strangling grip was too tight, but when he touched the guild crest on his chest his thoughts echoed loud enough to be heard. “I brought you back.”
Martin brought up his hand, glowing with Healing Touch and restored what he could of the other man’s health.
Disgusted, Jericho tossed him aside. Martin rubbed at his throat as the Heretic roared on. “You must be loving all this. Playing games with our lives. Discarding us like broken toys when we do not do what you want us to.”
Still not trusting his voice. Martin touched the crest once more. “I didn’t have hours to wait for your nap-time to be over. The girls will already be logged in. They will already be listening to this conversation.”
That seemed to give Jericho pause from his ranting. He was always very ready to abuse and berate Martin when they were alone, but now they had a witness he seemed far less sure of himself.
Martin raised a tufted eyebrow. “Shall we move on?”
Jericho growled away along the corridor without another word. At least he was headed in the right direction.
Fifteen
Slaughter of the Beast
Dropping down into the next deep, it only took Martin a couple of minutes to align his new mental map with the layout. His only regret was that the Skip Gate they were looking for wasn’t a physical tunnel down to the next Archduke. He had no clue as to where it was, other than having seen a whole section of the deep they hadn’t explored yet branching off from the rough stone cavern that they had just dropped down into.
He was just reaching for the guild crest to check where the girls were when it lit up and he heard Julia shriek, “Help!”
Jericho’s head jerked up and he took off at a sprint into the dark tunnels to the east. Martin grit his teeth and followed after. They had to stay together. Individually, any one of them would be easy pickings for the Ravager.
Yet keeping up with Jericho’s longer stride or even Speckles’ bounding leaps was beyond Martin. His stamina had been crippled by resurrecting Jericho, but even if it hadn’t the differential in their agility scores meant he had no hope of keeping up. He had to rely on his ears to track which way the Heretic had gone through the twisting tunnels. Pressing a hand to the crest showed him the position of his guildmates in the dungeon, but that didn’t help him work out how to get to them. His natural ability to transpose his mental map over the real world was useless at this pace, and he barely had time to recognize a junction before he was past it.
Deeper and deeper into the graven tunnels where monsters and heroes adorned every surface. Past the bird with the chipped wing. Into a wider chamber and there, by the entry on the far side, was the site of the Ravager’s ambush.
Julia was crawling away from it as fast as she could, her tail conspicuous in its absence and a trail of blood leading back to the tunnel. Jericho was rushing to her aid, ignoring the Night Ravager and the shimmer of its claws by torchlight. Lindsay danced around it, diving and ducking to avoid the scything attacks coming from four directions at once and holding her own despite the gruesome row of gashes across her face that seemed to have broken a hunk of her beak clean off her head.
Martin threw up his hand and cast Introit, but the expected gonging sound did not come. The combat had already started, and the Ravager had been nicked somewhere by Lindsay’s daggers. His opening trump card was worthless.
Casting the few buffs at his disposal as he went, Martin lit up his sword with Celestial Strike and charged in.
[ELEMENTAL WEAKNESS: DOUBLE DAMAGE]
[Night Ravager has suffered 22 light damage]
[Night Ravager has suffered 5 slashing damage]
It was a glancing blow across the Ravager’s rear, but it was enough to catch the monster’s attention. Those awful glowing green eyes narrowed and it spun to face him.
Come to me.
The lunging attack did not come. Once more at the sight of him the beast seemed to hesitate. Martin had no such hesitation. This time his sword blazed golden with Smite before he hammered it home into the Ravager’s blade-bristling mouth.
[ELEMENTAL WEAKNESS: DOUBLE DAMAGE]
[Night Ravager has suffered 42 light damage]
[Night Ravager has suffered 6 piercing damage]
The goal this time around was to take away as many of the monster’s weapons as he could manage. He might not be able to tank like Jericho, but he could still eliminate his enemy’s options when it came time to hurt his friends.
Die for me. Live again. Live for me.
The scythe-blade teeth clattered to the ground from the wound – not all of them, but enough that the Ravager’s grinding waste-disposal bites wouldn’t be able to seal around a limb.
Lindsay hit the thing in the back, leaping and doing her best to scream, “Raptor Strike!” through her broken beak. It came out a bit garbled, but clear enough for Martin to grasp it.
[Night Ravager has suffered 14 piercing damage]
[Night Ravager has suffered 16 piercing damage]
She dangled from the Ravager’s broad back by the blades, her feet scrambling to find purchase on the oily surface of the monster’s hide. That oil would already be closing over her daggers, the Ravager’s fearsome regeneration abilities working overtime to undo what little damage they’d manage to deal.
