Into the Hells

by Christopher Johns

  Only because the sonofabitch made it seem that way, Yohsuke grumbled in return.

  “What do you get out of this?” Muu asked after a moment.

  “Power, green one.” The demon swept over to stand in front of the Dragon-kin. He took one clawed forefinger under his chin and pulled it upward, then left and right. “You would fetch a lovely price at auction. Ah, yes—power. My status among my peers would grow, and with it, my strength. The number of damned souls my house would receive would increase, we would get to choose the choicest of slaves and meat that arrive to the city, and not to mention favor of the current Lord of the City for taking down this usurper.”

  He saw us frown and clapped in delight. “Oh how glorious, you haven’t pieced it together yet.” We eyed him quietly, and he seemed to deflate a little before sullenly informing us, “The creature your Balmur is enslaved by is none other than the one who has been causing turmoil on the Prime plane with all of the demons that have been sent there. That incubus? Hardly the worst he has sent.

  And tomorrow, he means to challenge the Lord of the City for his seat. So, if I can prevent that, I will be rewarded handsomely, you can take your friend, and then you will have free reign to do what you wish from there to ensure this never happens again.” The demon’s red eyes twinkled in devious glee.

  “Explain tomorrow then. How does the negotiation circle work?” The others looked at me oddly, but I didn’t care. We needed the info.

  “The Lord of the City can only be challenged after any other grievances have been aired and… settled.” He smiled, his perfect lips bowing in delight at the thought. “To win, all you must do is neutralize your opponent. If you lose? Well, that can be quite unpleasant.”

  “What aren’t you telling us?” Jaken growled. “And why not send these guys? They’re all higher level than us.”

  Archemillian clapped his hands and spun about, taking a step back. “Oh, but the poetic justice of it all! Think of it this way—you show up, take on your friend, and when he sees you, he hesitates. You capitalize on that hesitation and..”

  “He means kill.” I sighed. “We would have to kill Balmur.”

  Do NOT let him know that we have the ability to bring people back, I ordered the others telepathically. That’s what I had expected. Let’s make it look like the idea upsets us and then come up with a plan.

  “I know of your kind, Paladin.” Archemillian stepped in front of Jaken. “You would have been a fun one to see broken and corrupted.” He regarded the rest of us. “Is this deal amenable?”

  Bokaj didn’t wait for us to confer before nodding and responding aloud, “Deal.”

  QUEST ACCEPTED!

  What the fu– I started, but as I looked at the notification, my heart sank.

  Hostile Negotiations – The being you know as Archemillian has struck a deal with a party member (Bokaj) that your party will do your best to see his bid for power through in the negotiation circle into fruition.

  Reward: Increased opportunity to abscond with your friend (however that may be) and increased power for one of your party members.

  Failure: The loss of possibly all of your immortal souls should you perish, to Achemillian and his horde of torturers for all of eternity.

  “The verbal contract has been set. I will not offer you power, as one of you already benefits from sapping some of my strength, but I will allow you safe lodging in my home this evening.” Archemillian snapped his fingers. “Our food is not something you could stomach, and I did not prepare you anything, but the lodgings are yours. Prepare yourselves for tomorrow. Rest well.”

  * * *

  The rooms we had been given were filled to the brim with things that were likely meant to convince us to sell our souls for them. The rest of us were still too sore at Bokaj to really give a shit about the mounds of gold, a surplus of beautiful weapons, and master-crafted armor enchanted so heavily that looking around made my mouth water but my head ache.

  Finally, after an hour of sitting in sullen silence, Bokaj spoke, “You guys done being mad about shit that any of you would have done for someone else here today?”

  James was the first to make a response to the Ranger’s outburst, “It’s our immortal souls, man! You could have at least let us all talk about it.”

  “Would any of you have said no?” Bokaj tested as he stood and began to pace. “Yoh, would you not have done the same thing for Zeke or James? Muu, if Jaken had been taken rather than Balmur? Fuck, Jaken would have done the same for any of us. Look at him!”

  We grudgingly did so, and the Paladin’s face was resolute. “He’s right. I would have. There’s no point in saying that none of us would have done the same because we’re all here right now.” The rest of us blinked, and I knew he was right. He continued, “We can be butthurt about the specifics, split hairs, all that stuff later. We need a solid plan of attack for tomorrow. I think we know who it is fighting.”

  Each of us stared at Bokaj, who nodded once. “Me.”

  “Okay, now with that out of the way, what do we have left to get ready. Everyone has better accessories, better weapons, and better spells. What else?” I asked.

  “Anyone who hasn’t been spending their points in their combat tabs,” Jaken eyed me knowingly, “may want to do that. Who knows what we’re getting into tomorrow.”

  I smiled. I had actually been saving my points for just such an occasion. Now, could I have used them earlier? Yeah. Hell yeah. But now I had sixteen of them at level 31. Time to play!

  So, since it’s been a while since we played with the combat and weapons tabs, let’s review, shall we? The weapons tab opens at level 5, and when it opens, you get a single point to spend on a weapon proficiency. For me, I had purchased Great Axe Proficiency, which gave me an additional 1% damage and a little more skill with the weapon overall.

  From there, you gain the ability to choose weapon skills and abilities. I had chosen three of them at one point apiece that I used to deadly effect often.

  Wind Scythe - Throw your Great Axe into the enemy accurately up to 30 feet. One additional foot per 5 strength (max 40 ft). 15 - 30 base damage. Cooldown: 1 minute.

  Cleave - Boosts damage of the next attack by 100%. Cooldown: 3 minutes.

  Devil’s Hammer - Slam the butt of your axe into the enemy. 50% chance to stun target for 30 seconds. Cooldown: 2 minutes.

  And then some that I used less but were no less important.

  Charge - Allows the user to close the distance to an opponent of up to thirty feet away, almost instantaneously. Cooldown: 30 seconds

  Feather Axe - Lowers the weight of the weapon used by two thirds. (Current weapon weight 30Ibs; will now be 10Ibs) Duration: 10 minutes. Restriction: Weapon must be a Great Axe. Cooldown: 15 minutes.

  Not to mention that I had also spent an additional two points to get to the second level of proficiency and a total of two percent additional damage to my attacks with a great axe, then another three to get to the third. As the proficiency raised in level, the cost rose accordingly. So to get to level four, I’d have to spend four points for the next and so on. It didn’t stack, which sucked, but that was okay.

  Sixteen points to play with, and I would play. First, I spent nine points to get my proficiency up to level five, with an additional five percent damage boost.

  A flood of knowledge and surety drowned my senses. I didn’t have my weapon in hand, but I knew I would be that much more deadly with it.

  Next, I took a gander at some of the skills I had available to me now.

  Executioner – Your axe becomes the judging end of your foe, may the Gods have mercy on their soul—for yours is swift and brutal. 20% chance to finish an opponent with 30% HP or lower. Cooldown: 10 minutes.

  Bladed Storm – You are the maelstrom of pain and the flurry of metal blows. You are the storm. Movement with a Great Axe is greatly increased, weapons strikes are faster and less predictable for a time. Duration: 1 minute. Cost: 200 MP. Cooldown: 3 minutes.

  Epicen
ter – Where your axe strikes, the earth crumbles and shatters. Weapon damage is greatly increased for a single strike, while weapon weight is quintupled. Cooldown: 5 minutes.

  Ravage – Your strikes rend flesh from bone, but these strikes dig deeper, leaving bone decimated and blood in your wake. 70% chance to cause a hobbling wound and damage over time to an opponent.

  Cost: 50 MP. Cooldown: 2 minutes.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  Okay, take a breath. Release. Repeat. That’s how that whole breathing thing goes, right? At three points each, this would be a tough decision.

  The no brainer was Executioner. That would be super helpful, despite the ten-minute cooldown. The other three had their uses, of course. Epicenter would be wicked, but I didn’t need to have to lug around an axe that weighed hundreds of pounds. Ravage was fucking wicked sounding, and to be able to hobble a creature and do damage over time?

  Beautiful, but in the end, I had to go with Bladed Storm. To be able to move faster and strike faster would be amazing. Not to mention, I could likely use that in conjunction with other skills. Cleaving, Charging my opponent. All of it.

  There was nothing worthwhile for my last remaining point to go toward unless I wanted to pick up a single level for daggers, but I was already kind of skilled with them from my obsession with bladed weapons as a kid. And in the Marine Corps. How many hours had I spent making the same slicing, cutting, stabbing, and parrying motions with a blade since I was a younger teen? Countless hours. I would wait until I had more points to sink into my great axe.

  The others looked like they hadn’t done a damned thing except Muu, who scratched his scaled head.

  “What’s up, buddy?” I asked him from my seat. It was hard to resist the urge to get up and finger some of the valuables that bastard Archemillian put around us as temptation.

  “Well, as you guys know, I get five points per level to put toward weapon proficiencies and abilities.” He began to tinker with some settings, and his screen popped up.

  Name: Muu Ankiman

  Race: Half-Dragon Beast-kin

  Level: 28

  Strength: 85

  Dexterity: 65

  Constitution: 50

  Intelligence: 15

  Wisdom: 14

  Charisma: 14

  Unspent Attribute Points: 0

  Righteous. His stats were fucking amazing, but what he was showing me now was even more interesting. Of all the weapon proficiency points he had received, he’d only spent ten. So he still had a hundred and five to use.

  “That’s fucking criminal man,” I muttered jealously. Jaken nodded, and James snorted.

  “What I’m wondering is where do I pour these points?” Muu looked to us for guidance, and I just shook my head.

  “I couldn’t tell you, brother. You’re what, level three in your spear proficiency? Why not bump it up to like, ten?” I started doing some math in my head, wishing for a calculator. “That would leave you with fifty-six points to buy skills or up your other weapon proficiencies.”

  Muu tinkered a bit, a look of consternation on his face; then he went completely slack for a moment before returning as if nothing happened. “Okay, there, that’s done. I upped spears to ten. That’s normal spears and short spears because they weirdly count as the same weapon since the counterbalance is there? I don’t know—it’s weird.”

  “What was that?” Yohsuke asked.

  “What?”

  “You looked like you had like an aneurysm or something. You okay?”

  Muu blinked at Yohsuke. “Yeah, it was just a lot of information to take in.” He tapped something else a few times. “Hammer is up to level three now too. There are six points gone. Fifty left… oh my god!”

  “What?” we asked.

  He turned his screen to us once more, and on it, I had to admit, was something I didn’t expect to see.

  Nightmare Thrust – You are an opponent to be reckoned with, but those who are struck by this attack know true fear. Duration: two days with a 50% chance at the sight of the wielder, they may become paralyzed by fear. Cost: 22 MP. Cooldown: 6 minutes.

  Magicked Missile – Your weapon sails as if spelled and homes in on your desired target. Objects in way may divert path. Cost: 57 MP. Cooldown: 2 minutes.

  Gale – Your strikes and thrusts are so swift, the air splits and moves with your weapon. Gusts of wind will pierce and slash your opponent or anything in their way up to 30 ft with an additional foot added per 5 strength. (Max distance: 47 ft.) Cooldown: 2 minutes.

  Sky Sunder – You weapon will split the skies and your foes. Vastly increased damage of attacks against opponents from above. Cooldown: 10 minutes.

  “Those are fucking sick, but that five-point cost is rough, man. What will you do?” Bokaj whistled as Muu turned the screen back around grinning. “You just bought all of them, didn’t you?”

  “I like to plan, sure, but those are too good to not have in our arsenal.” Muu dismissed his screen and the remaining thirty points he had to spend. “Besides, tomorrow, the majority of the fighting will be done by you, Bokaj. Are you going to be okay?”

  “No.” The ice Elf shrugged, Tmont climbed out slightly from her hiding spot in his hood to headbutt the side of his face comfortingly. “I’ve been best friends with him since we were kids. We live together. He’s seriously family to me, but I’m going to do what has to be done. End of story.”

  “Well, that’s fair.” James yawned and began shoving shit out of his way so that he could move to one of the beds hidden under piles of awesome stuff. “We should get some rest. Gotta be fresh for tomorrow.”

  We all laid down for the night, Tmont and Kayda taking turns watching over us with the elves who needed little rest.

  Who knew what these negotiations would bring. The only thing that I was certain of was that we weren’t taking “no” for an answer where Balmur was concerned.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Truly, would you all relax? You’re here as my guests for this event. Just don’t be imbeciles, and you’ll be fine.” Archemillian sighed for the umpteenth time.

  We had been watching fighters duke it out for the last two hours for smaller things. Stolen goods, slaves, besmirched honor. This whole watching other people fight while surrounded by hundreds of thousands of evil creatures made my skin crawl. Not to mention the closeness of these things. They smelled awful! And the sights? Super awful.

  Especially when I was seeing a constantly shifting sea of levels around us at all times. It was starting to give me a migraine. Ugh.

  The place was a stadium that made the Ohio State Football Stadium look like a children’s playground. The battlefield below was gigantic, at least one-and-a-half football fields long and one wide because the creatures that fought in it weren’t always small or weak.

  I had seen an imp with a really nice staff dismantle a creature that looked like a furred ogre that had flames all over its skin and four arms. The little thing had cast a single spell that looked like some kind of meteorite that dropped on her opponent and crushed him so thoroughly that when the spell faded, there was merely a smear of brackish black and red left.

  And don’t even get me started about the half dozen ape-like beasts that had fought in it after them. There are really only so many times you can watch an audience member get doused in flaming fecal matter before you start wondering if you can step in.

  And the entire time, I had to think about Balmur fighting these things, about him trying to survive in this very place. The thought of it made my tongue feel thick in my mouth and bile rise in my throat. I didn’t pity him, I don’t think, but I knew that things would likely be different.

  I just tried to get a hold of him via earring—nothing. Jaken looked away from the now-concluding fight in the center of the stadium.

  He just sent me a Mental Message. You guys, he’s been here for a year and a half. Bokaj’s voice broke in my mind. I could hear the strain in it now. He said, “I know you probably can’t hear this,
and that’s okay. It’s been more than a year and a half since I saw you, and it’s getting harder to keep them out of my head. They want me to do things. Terrible things. I just… I miss you, man. I hope you don’t come. Stay away. It’s not safe here. Not safe. Not.

  A biting sting and tightness took my throat. Cold rage seeped into the pit of my stomach, and I wanted to just start massacring these damned demons right then and there. As soon as the thought occurred, the crowd around us, across from us, began to cheer, boo, hiss, and spit. The range of emotions on top of what I was already experiencing was discordant, and it made me angrier.

  “It’s him!” I heard one slave hiss aloud from somewhere behind me to my left.

  “Your friend comes,” Archemillian muttered to us, and we stood, though we had basically front row seats to the action in the center of the stadium.

  In the center of the now-bloodied, grayish sand of the center battlegrounds, a red portal opened, and a large, brutish figure stepped out. His purple and red mottled skin just barely covered its muscled figure, covered in chains, a loincloth and a thick belt around its waist. The large, heavy-browed face scowled around it as it reached back into the portal and pulled out a chain. It stepped further from the portal momentarily so that it could give a mighty tug on the creature at the other end.

  Out of the red portal, a significantly smaller figure covered in nothing more than rags and bound heavily in chains and barely functioning stumbled out.

  Balmur. His once tanned, fiery flesh was now covered in scars that seemed to take up all available space. The demon hauled him further from the portal and then began to unlock the cuffs around his wrists as the crowd began to howl and chant.

  “Talgov! Talgov! Talgov!” they chanted in some guttural language.

  “What does that mean?” I asked Archemillian over the din.

  “It means, loosely, in your tongue, ‘die.’” He leaned back from me as the crimson of my rage bloomed at the edges of my vision.

  By now, the hulking figure had managed to get the cuffs off, and rather than simply stepping away, he drew his hand up by his cheek and backhanded our friend so that he fell sprawling to the ground. As the brute strutted back into the portal, two smaller creatures—imps—flitted out of it with weapons—Balmur’s Mountain Fangs.