Into the Hells

by Christopher Johns

  Name: Zekiel Erebos

  Race: Kitsune (Celestial)

  Level: 29

  Strength: 50

  Dexterity: 40

  Constitution: 35

  Intelligence: 60

  Wisdom: 36

  Charisma: 17

  Unspent Attribute Points: 20

  Pretty decent stats, if I do say so myself. Still, always room to improve oneself. I decided to add ten points to intelligence, five to constitution, four to wisdom, and one to charisma.

  This made my sheet look like so.

  Name: Zekiel Erebos

  Race: Kitsune (Celestial)

  Level: 29

  Strength: 50

  Dexterity: 40

  Constitution: 40

  Intelligence: 70

  Wisdom: 40

  Charisma: 18

  Unspent Attribute Points: 0

  My body felt a little more at ease and healthier than normal, and I could feel my mana reserves deepen as a full 100 MP was added in.

  I rolled my shoulders and grinned. Now I’d be able to Teleport much farther and with a lot more creatures.

  I took a look at Coal’s stats as well. The fight with Lothir had brought him up to Level 13. Two of his natural points went into strength and dexterity, meaning each got a point without me spending anything because he had used those stats the most in the last fights he was in. That left me six points to use, so I added one each to strength and dexterity, two to intelligence, and one each to wisdom and charisma. Which left his stats looking good.

  Name: Coal

  Race: Flame Wolf

  Strength: 20

  Dexterity: 20

  Constitution: 14

  Intelligence: 5

  Wisdom: 4

  Charisma:8

  Unspent Attribute Points: 0

  “Let’s get this show on the road then, ladies.” The others smiled back as I spoke and took each other’s hands. No point telling the kids what would be happening because they would be harder to corral and keep safe. Better they experience it firsthand and get used to the idea than waste time.

  Jaken grabbed one of the little Fae-Orc children’s hands. Their skins were slightly green and their features a perfect blend of Elf and Orc. The other children took each other’s hands nervously, not knowing what was going on, but it was Set who began to balk.

  Tmont herded him into the circle, and I grabbed him. The others shifted grip, and I cast the spell with Sunrise Village in mind. The earth fell from beneath our feet, and it felt as though we were being pulled through an ice cold tunnel that was much too tight to go through. Then the sensation stopped, and we plopped back on to the ground in the center of the village.

  One or two of the kids may or may not have begun tearing up, sniffling, and looking about in both awe and horror. Set vomited profusely, all over the ground. Luckily, I had moved and avoided the worst of it.

  Sunrise Village was a small village nestled in the bosom of a large forest south of the Lightning Mountains. Secluded but not unfriendly, the people here knew us and our mission—and they had volunteered to host us.

  The square hadn’t changed one bit. If it weren’t for the fact that it was the middle of the night, people would be haggling for items and better prices. Humans, different kinds of Beast-kin, like bear, wolf, and cat, and even a few Dwarves would be milling about the place as children ran around playing with each other. Not to mention bears who owed fealty to Queen Kyra, the bear queen of this portion of the world, who wandered through often. A few people were in the place, either talking or walking somewhere.

  A couple of them waved at us.

  “Let’s take the kids to the—well, that’s new,” Jaken began then stopped.

  I followed his gaze and noted the large fence that had been erected since the last time we had been to the village. Before, there had been no barrier between the village and the world, the tree line of the forest being plainly visible.

  “How much you wanna bet that this was Zhavron’s work?” Muu asked in a hushed tone.

  Zhavron was an Orc mercenary who we had brought with us on a trip to the north from a town called Lindyburg. He was a stubborn, old bastard, but he was one hell of a fighter and had trained not only Muu but as many of us as would have him on how to fight and kick ass. He was a cool dude when he wasn’t going full drill instructor on you.

  “I’ll take that action,” Bokaj grunted. “I’m pretty sure I know who it could’ve been if it wasn’t him.”

  “Five gold?” Muu offered. The two shook hands without really tearing their eyes away.

  “Take them to the tavern,” James grunted. “Willem will know what to do with them.”

  We walked away from the square toward Sir Willem Dillon’s tavern. It had no name, but it was the only tavern in the village, so it was centrally located. When we arrived, we noted that there was a new addition to the building.

  Before the building had been a simple, one-story structure made of split logs and simple wooden planks. A red door led into the main area, and toward the rear of the building, there were rooms that we had used while staying in the village at times.

  Now, that structure had been added on to. There was an entirely new floor with a building built above the place, but there was another building attached to that with a fence about twelve-feet-tall around the side and rear of it. The new addition was made of the same materials, but it looked slightly better crafted.

  We had been gone for a few weeks, so this kind of building, all of these changes in general, were wild. We had suggested the fence, but I didn’t know for certain that they would start so soon.

  “Don’t say it,” I growled at Muu.

  He looked a little sad that he didn’t get to point all the new things out, but he walked forward into the tavern anyway. He pushed the door open, and a flood of noise reached out to us and pulled further along. It was good to be back.

  Inside, villagers were drinking and calling to each other boisterously. The bartender, a muscular, older human with long, gray hair and a graying, reddish beard, served drinks behind the bar.

  He turned his scarred visage our way and a genuine grin of welcome split his face. “Welcome back, boys!”

  Some of the other patrons cheered, scaring the children a little. When Willem saw the kids, he immediately shouted, “Quiet, you lot! There are children here now.”

  He tossed his rag down and immediately tugged his apron over his head. He laid it on the counter as he came through the small opening in the bar area and walked toward us.

  “You will explain this, I trust.” His face a stoic mask as he looked over us, then turned his sights on the children.

  Jaken stepped forward and began to go through the story, a modified one, about how we had found the boys about to be sacrificed and Set had been tossed out on his ass for no reason at all for failing an impossible task.

  After a moment of listening, Willem waved the explanation aside.

  “I shall hear the full of it in the morning. It looks to be, so far, that you were in the right of things.” He motioned to the boys and began to speak to them directly, “Are you hungry?” The one boy who could speak common nodded and translated to the others for us. “Come then, let’s find you some food. I may not be the best cook, but it will suffice.”

  “The hell am I supposed to do then, man?” Yohsuke pretended to be hurt. “Tell you what, for the crime of even remotely thinking you would cook in my presence, take the kids to a room and let a real chef do his thing. How about that?”

  Willem smiled at my friend. “Deal. You saved them again.”

  He ushered the children toward the hallway where our rooms were, and I called out to him, “Hey! They can take my room!”

  “Thanks!” echoed back down the hallway, and I watched as both Willem and Yohsuke disappeared with the children.

  “May as well grab a seat.” Jaken shrugged and motioned to an empty table.

  We grabbed seats, and after a while of light drinkin
g, some food provided by our awesome chef, and a bit of terse conversation, everyone decided to turn in. The kids were safe, and the party was safe. We could learn more in the morning.

  I walked outside, shifted into my owl form, and took flight. No need to tell the others while we were here. I didn't want them to worry about me. I flew for a while, just gazing at the forest beneath me. The owl’s instincts, a perk from being the Primal Warrior, were silent this time, as if they knew what could be on my mind.

  Of all the emotions and sensations I could be feeling in this world of magic, adventure, and awesome sights, I was sad and lonely. I missed Kayda. I missed my son. I missed home. That last bit I was surprised about and more than a little angry over.

  I had hated my world. People there, while a lot of them were good, let a lot of the bad ones get away with things that made the things I had seen here look pleasant. I was quite literally living every gamer’s dream by being here, and I missed home? What was wrong with me?

  I landed on the roof of the new building over top of the tavern and shifted from owl to fox then into my panther form. See, the way my shapeshifting works is that it’s basically instantaneous, and as a Kitsune, my forms, except the elemental ones, last until I want to shift back. Metagaming? A little. More than a little. But I can only go from a natural form. For me, those are fox-man, fox, and human, to another form. So, in this case, it goes from shapeshifted form, to natural, and into another shapeshifted form.

  With me? Cool. ‘Cause I’m tired.

  I had slept in panther form once before now, and any night predators would leave me alone. Should leave me alone. I hadn’t heard of anything other than kidnappers who had been operating around here at night, and all of those assholes were dead. I took up my bed for the night in the center of the roof so as not to scare anyone, then gazed at the stars for a moment.

  How beautiful and odd these constellations seemed. How foreign, yet comforting that somewhere out there, my son and loved ones were still safe because I was here fighting for them. Because all of us were here fighting for them.

  I laid my head on my paws and yawned deeply before I shut my eyes and let slumber take me.

  Chapter Two

  I woke up after a while to the sound of someone barking orders as the halfway-risen sun struck my fur delightfully. Despite the rude wake-up call, I stretched languorously on the roof before rising and moving around. I padded to the side of the structure and dropped on to the original tavern roof.

  As I did so, I was greeted by the sight of six men in light leather armor going through sword drills run by Zhavron.

  The massive Orc, older with scars all over his visible body, called from the front of the formation, “Stab, horizontal, vertical, diagonal—no, Daggert, the other way, lad—parry, guard.”

  He tapped hands and feet as he walked through the sword-swinging men. His bald head had a red bandana around it that was a little damp, and his chipped tusks flashed in the daylight. His back and chest were bare for once, and I noted a great deal more scars. One was large enough that it took up a good deal of the center of his back. I was high enough up that no one saw me right away, and I could watch undisturbed—so I laid down and watched a while.

  Another thing I noticed was that he was considerably gentler with these men than he had been with us. With us, he had been like a drill instructor in the third phase at Parris Island. They were knowledgeable and approachable, but they didn’t fuck around, and when they gave an order, they expected you to obey.

  Zhavron had been Muu’s trainer, and he had even offered some of us his wisdom as he had traveled with us. It had been highly enlightening, not to mention the fact that once you got past his surly demeanor, he was a genuinely kickass dude.

  “I expect each of you to practice your strokes—not those damned chops you call strokes Daggert—two hundred times today. And daily for the rest of the week. Hold each other accountable. Remember—a squad is only as strong as what?”

  “Its weakest link, sir!” the six men responded in unison. They sheathed their weapons swiftly and stood waiting.

  “Daggert, if you would?” Zhavron waved to the man in front.

  “Atten-tion!” The man called, and the men snapped into a position of attention I was very familiar with. Heels together with the toes flared out at a thirty-degree angle and their fists at their sides with their thumbs on the seams of the breeches.

  “Present arms!” Daggert called. The men crossed their right arms at a ninety-degree angle before them and put the top of their fist and thumb against their heart. “Good morning, sir!”

  Zhavron returned the gesture in the same manner, brought his fist down to his side sharply, and ordered, “Dismissed!”

  The men cut their salutes smartly before taking a single step back, making an about face and leaving quickly.

  “Had you just planned to watch, Master Erebos?” Zhavron called to me where I watched, purring in delight.

  I lazily plopped to the ground and shifted back into my fox-man form.

  “Hello, Zhavron.” I smiled at the mercenary turned military man. “Quite the little army you’re working with here.”

  “They are far from the regiments I oversaw when I was leading mercenary companies,” Zhavron sighed, “but as a guard? They will be the best. Better even than the capital guard of Zephyth. I take it you found good fortune in the south if you have returned here so soon?”

  “We found some, and we made some enemies,” I alluded.

  “As is the way of these things.” He turned and flashed his teeth at me.

  “Ain’t that the truth.” The sun still shone down as he threw a tunic over his head. “Those all the men you’ve got, Zhavron?”

  “No, only half. My lieutenant has the others, and honestly, I feel bad for them. Brutal taskmaster that one. Almost puts me to shame.”

  I stared at him in shock. Zhav was a hardass, and it took a good deal of respect to liken anyone to a drill instructor. How harsh could this other person be?

  “Come, let’s break our fast and hear about your travels. We can trade tales.” Zhavron clapped me on the back and shoved me playfully toward the door.

  We walked into the back of the tavern to find the rest of the party sitting around a couple of tables. The children had their own table with piles of good food in front of them—eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, and some fruit just piled on plates. Zhavron greeted the others and grabbed a plate full of food, and I did the same.

  Yohsuke popped out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a towel with a confused look on his face. “The fuck are y’all waiting for? Eat!”

  We dug in and began the joyful process of clearing our plates. The eggs were perfect, and the bacon was crisp and savory. Mmm.

  “Now, tell me about what has happened,” Willem ordered.

  We all took turns explaining things. We laughed, we cried, I’m pretty sure someone farted—it was a great time.

  “And then we came here,” Jaken finished.

  Muu added, “To be continued—duh duh duuuuuhn!”

  A couple of us laughed at the addition, but Willem and Zhavron seemed confused. So we let it go.

  “I see.” The older Paladin stood, then began to pace. “Two would-be distractions for our gods, and you’ve commendably ended them both. Thank you.”

  “And you lot are thinking to do… what now?” Zhavron asked before shoving more eggs into his gullet.

  “We’re gonna go see a black Dragon on a small island off the coast northwest of the jungles and then after that, to see the high elves up north,” Jaken supplied.

  Willem looked like he wanted to comment but just sighed and shook his head as he sipped his tea.

  “Wish you all luck on that endeavor.” Zhavron stood and patted his belly with a nod to Yohsuke. “That sounds foolish and deadly, dealing with any kind of Dragon. But a black Dragon? One of the smartest and vilest kind? Right up your alley.”

  “Woah, your turn big, green, and angry.” Muu stood up. “
You have to have some news for us, right? Like, whose idea was it to build the fence?”

  “The guard wall?” He raised an eyebrow. “That would have been one the village had but was implemented by my lieutenant, then expounded upon. ‘A place isn’t really defensible if it’s open to all.’”

  “Sound word,” I grunted. “You did say you would swap stories. Spill it, old man,” I added that last bit playfully, and he gave me a withering look.

  With a sigh, he began, “The journey here was uneventful. I came here with thirteen strong arms, mostly men I trusted and the others had shining recommendations from people I trusted. As we were passing close to the mountain range, we were set upon by trolls and a band of marauders who fancied themselves more than enough to slaughter us. They died. All of them. But not before two of my people fell. The third defected—which I found odd, but I couldn’t blame him—in the middle of the night a day or so later. The other ten are here now.”

  He lifted his mug and took a large gulp of his water before belching unceremoniously and continuing, “Upon our arrival here, we were met with a squadron of bears, but they let us pass after I let them catch Jaken’s scent. Once Sir Dillon heard our tale and what we had come to do, we began working immediately. The construction of the fence was overseen by my right hand, and the barracks—the building next to and above us now—was overseen by the mercenary who had taken up carpentry and building when he was a lad from his da’. We have the ten who came with me working in eight-hour rotations of watch on two entrances, and the other three guards roam the interior perimeter of the walls. The bears are a godsend; they watch the forest and outer perimeter. The mayor’s wife and some of the other Bear-kin translate for us if needed.”

  “The walls are currently being reinforced with thick logs, and a pathway along the top is in the works as well,” Willem interjected. “We are working on transporting stone from the mountains so that we can have a less flimsy partition between the people and the outside, but it’s not going too swiftly. The logistics of it aren’t fully hashed out, but there are talks of talks. You understand how these things can be, eh?”