The Monolith

by Stephen Roark

  “Welcome to Ebonmire,” Fujiko announced.

  “What are you, the resident tour guide?” I asked. She frowned. “I have to get a few things, but then we’re moving on.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  The town was much bigger than the Weeping Hills, with about eight buildings that I could see as I made my way down the main road, my boots kicking up dust and something else that looked like ash. I heard voices from within the cluster of huts, which were taller and more substantial than the ones from my town, and I could tell by their tone that the mood here was much lighter than the place we’d just left.

  Indeed, at least ten Seekers milled about the lamppost that leaned precariously against a stack of long, rectangular slabs of grey stone speckled with flecks of black and silver. Wouldn’t it be easier just to dig a deeper hole?

  “Slaughter is awesome,” a confident voice pronounced. “Extra damage when they’re at low health? Sick finisher.”

  “Yeah, but do you really want to wait until they’re low to be able to use your skills?” another Seeker countered. “Give me Tendon Cut. Slow ‘em right down and then pow! Finish ‘em off.”

  “How can you guys talk about stuff like combat skills at a time like this?” someone else asked, clearly annoyed. “We don’t even know how we’re going to get out of here, and you guys are talking about combat skill?!”

  “Relax, Brina,” a strong voice scolded. “Do you have any answers for us on how we’re going to get home? No? Then how about not bringing it up every ten seconds and ruining our day? I’m sure the world’s working on a solution. The government—”

  “Right, the government!” Brina scoffed. As we passed what must have been the Ebonmire Smithy’s Hut, I was able to make them out as they argued. Brina was a tall Seeker, wearing a black velvet pea coat and a triangular leather hat that covered her long black hair. She held a Blunderbuss, like mine, and a hammer almost like Wilhelm’s. Her two companions were wearing nothing but their starter pants, their faces twisted, ugly, hideous expressions. They were obviously a couple of jokers having fun trolling around and had refused to acknowledge the reality of their situation.

  Jenkins—Level 8

  Brina—Level 8

  Carlos—Level 9

  “Seekers, Seekers!” I heard the strange voice to my right and knew without even having to look that the resident Blood Merchant had spied us. “Come, come! I have many things for sale!”

  “I’ll bet you do,” I replied, turning and expecting to find an Alastor-like creature waving his hands at me from a bath of wine. But instead, I saw a window of fogged glass wrapped in thick iron bars with only a small opening at its base, concave in the slab of bronze that served as a sill. It reminded me of a ticket booth, only there was no smiling teenager waiting to take my payment.

  “Come closer!” the voice hissed as I stepped closer. A bright candle or flame shone from within, illuminating the figure of the merchant hidden behind the glass. I counted at least four arms attached to a human-like torso. An enormous mane of hair hung across jagged shoulders and as the thing moved, droopy breasts swayed like slabs of meat hanging in the wind.

  “Quint! Quint! Have you any Quint for me?!” the Blood Merchant chanted rhythmically, almost as though singing a song.

  “A bit,” I answered, eyeing Fujiko and Altarus, who simply smiled.

  “She’s…interesting,” Altarus added as I stepped up to the window. Six fingers tapped against the glass, opening a trade window that displayed everything she had for sale. It was basically the same as what Alastor offered. I selected a stack of Blunderbuss slugs, just in case I needed more, but then I saw something that stopped me.

  Horticus Humphries’ Morphine Lozenge—Horticus Humphries’ miraculous cure! Use only in the darkest of times. Heals 90% of total health. 5 max carry.

  Horticus Humphries, eh? I smiled, remembering the mortician’s marvelous, knightly bow he’d performed after stitching me up and bringing me back to life.

  It cost 750 Quintessence, which was more than three Soothing Syrup, which would heal more than the lozenge, but take three times as long. I had enough to pick up 2 of them along with another stack of slugs. The merchant also sold Firebombs and Flint, which I desperately wanted to buy, but I’d blown most of my Quintessence on increasing my stats.

  I’ll just come back later, I told myself. But part of me replied—Will you, though?

  “Such sweet Quintessence!” the Blood Merchant cried out, cackling from within her prison-like hut. I wondered if the bars on the windows (and door) were there to keep us out, or keep her in. “Bring me more, bring me more!”

  I heard her fists pound against the thick glass as Altarus and Fujiko stepped up to do business. “I’m going to go bind,” I told them. “In case we die out there.”

  The Seekers were still arguing as I made my way to the toppled over lamppost and bound my soul to it. The town had a strange smell to it, like ash and fish mixed together. I twisted up my nose and turned back to my friends, but before I could go, Brina called out to me.

  “Hey! Rand?” she asked, obviously having inspected me. “Can you settle a debate for us?”

  “No,” I replied simply and kept walking. But the girl was persistent, and rushed in front of me.

  “It’ll just take a second,” she pressed. “Do you think we should just ignore the fact that we are all stuck here, probably dying in the real world, and argue over stats and skills? Or should we try to find a way to get ourselves the Hell out?!”

  She was talking to me, but her eyes were fixed on her friends.

  “I don’t have any answers for you,” I told her. And that was true. I didn’t even have answers to my own questions, let alone those of anyone else.

  “Haha, you idiot, Brina!” one of them laughed as she rejoined them at the center of town.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I told my friends as they finished up their trades.

  “Bring me more!” the Blood Merchant insisted eagerly. “Bring me more!”

  “Good to go,” Fujiko replied, turning to me. “Which, by the way—is where?”

  41

  Schweedle, Schweedle!

  “Some may call them monstrosities. Nonsense, I say! Species cross mixing is not something just anyone can do. Countless hours of research went into creating my lovely little subjects. Soon, I will release them and allow them their freedom. The world is not ready for them yet. Too bad for them…”

  —from the journals of Doctor Abraham Gergenstein

  I told them of my conversation with Rathborne as we made our way north out of town. The whole thing seemed to irritate Fujiko, which I found ironic as she had been the one who had insisted on following me and was now dissatisfied with my explanation of where it was we were headed.

  “Fortune Teller,” she snarled. A clump of dirt exploded against the tip of her boot as we made our way up the slope of uneven ground that led away from Ebonmire. The terrain was rocky, but wet with water so black and thick I was beginning to wonder whether it was fair to even call it water. It seemed to ooze from places, like open sores in the ground rather than collected rainwater.

  “Sounds like someone you’d meet at a boardwalk!”

  I realized the slabs of stone that sprung up here and there were more than just random rock formations, but were in fact old foundations of buildings long gone. We were far enough away from Ebonmire that they probably hadn’t been part of the town. Perhaps we were getting closer to the Ruins of Londorin?

  You’ve got no idea where you’re going, was the next thought in my mind.

  “I wonder if she takes quarters—”

  “Look, can you cut the shit?” I asked Fujiko angrily. “You said you wanted to come with me. Now, do you or don’t you? Because if you’re just going to complain and make sarcastic comments the whole time, you might as well just go back to town or go leveling somewhere!”

  The look on Fujiko’s face as I turned to her almost made me feel bad. Even Altarus looked sligh
tly taken aback by my outburst. I wasn’t feeling my best. I’d been free of the visions for a while now, but I couldn’t help but think another one was on its way, and that was unsettling. Beyond that, my mother was on my mind. It was just beginning to be morning here in the game world, which meant I had a bit more time before I had to head back and figure out how to let her know that I wasn’t dead, kidnapped or lost, but was in fact not coming home again—at least for a while.

  The trees were sparse on the gentle slope as we navigated in and out of the old foundation of what must have been the lower village of the Castle of Londorin. It was impossible to see too far ahead as the view was blocked by stacks of old rubble stone, blanketed by moss that was such a dark, deep green it was almost shadow. Something with claws moved on the other side of a wall beside us, and I readied my axe as we slowed our pace, keeping quiet as we rounded the corner.

  A bird-rat thing feasted on the corpse of a fallen man—a Seeker named Balorin. Blood splashed from his corpse as the vile thing sucked at his flesh with a tube-like snout. Its body shook as it drank from the carcass, ruffling its carpet of burnt yellow feathers that encased it like armor while its skinny head flared out like an oblong tumor flanked on both sides with thick, powerful haunches.

  Corpse Crow—Level 11

  Without hesitation, I dashed in and swung my axe like a baseball at the thing’s head. A satisfying sound of battered bone sounded, dampened only slightly by the sickly flesh that encased the thing’s skull.

  85

  Blunted Strike was next, so I could freeze the thing and my group could spend 2 free seconds breaking down its health, but a disappointing thunk sound was produced as the handle of my axe met the thing’s…beak. White letters rose from the bird’s head.

  IMMUNE!

  “Shit,” I grumbled as it leapt at me. I tried dodging, but the snout-beak moved like a sentient fire hose, expanded and slipped around the top of my skull. Thousands of tiny points sank into my skin as the fetid fowl began to suck.

  -25, -27, -22

  The Frenzy meter began to rise in the corner of my vision as I flailed my axe above my head in a desperate attempt to get the damn thing off of me.

  -26, -24

  “Get this thing off me!” I roared. Altarus’ Winchester cracked an angry reply. The bird released its grip on me and let out a painful squawk as feathers and down spilled down onto my shoulders.

  The Frenzy meter was almost full. Another hit or two from the beast and I’d be in big trouble. I rolled backwards, uncomfortable shards of rock digging painfully into my back, and sipped a Soothing Syrup.

  +125

  The rat-bird squawked again, but this time it sounded like the damn thing was trying to talk.

  Schweeedle! It sucked through the air. Schweeeedle!

  A downward smash from Fujiko’s hammer silenced it, at least for a moment.

  “Don’t let it hit you!” I cried out as the feathered rodent leapt and clawed at her as it squawked its strange squawk from the fleshy tube that hung from its face. “It has Frenzy!”

  Fujiko tried to get out of the way, but again, the flesh-drinking straw had a mind of its own and connected with her knee and held on for dear life. Her knee buckled sideways, sending her to the ground as Altarus fired quickly, his bullets peeling mucus colored plumes from the bird’s body as Fujiko drove the handle of her axe into the thing’s dreadful face.

  Slowly, my Frenzy bar was beginning to drop, but it was still dangerously high. Three hits maybe—that was all I could handle before that bar exploded, taking 90% of my health with it. But Fujiko’s health was peeling away quickly, and me standing around watching wasn’t doing anything.

  I raised my Blunderbuss and aimed high above the beast. From this distance, the spray would be wide, putting Fujiko at risk for being hit. But something had to be done to get that hideous snout off of her.

  My trusty firearm thundered across the ruins. Slugs chewed into the upper half of the rat-bird’s body—

  46

  But the thing held fast on Fujiko. Altarus was still firing, but the thing had a ton of health and was still well above half.

  “Help, damn it!” Fujiko cursed. Laid out like she was, practically pinned beneath the creature, her two handed hammer was of little use. She simply could not get a good swing from her position. I leapt forward, eyeing my Frenzy meter, and opened with a Crippling Blow, praying I wouldn’t be greeted with the same message I’d been given when trying to use Blunted Strike.

  112

  Thank God!

  That was enough to get the bird off her. Its flesh tube sucked the air in an angry cry again. Schweeedle! Schweeeel!

  My Bleeding debuff had been applied, and I smiled as the damage began to tick down.

  26, 28

  Another crack from Altarus’ Winchester rang out as I slid into battle, old Gravekeeper Boucher’s Shovel Axe crying out for blood. The makeshift cutting edge carved a deep wound in the bird, and a third of its remaining health was gone instantly.

  165

  Schweeedle!

  The thing clawed out unexpectedly with its back feet, rising off the ground, propelled by its rat tail that swung its tumorous body at me with great speed. My Blunderbuss bucked comfortingly against my wrist as I fired, a perfectly timed riposte.

  Dooooommmm!

  Best sound in the game, I thought as the winged rodent hit the ground in front of me. I took my time, aimed my strike, put all my weight into it, and drove it home, right in between the thing’s eyes.

  280

  Just a sliver left. Fujiko slid to her feet and shouted.

  “Out of the way, Rand!”

  It wasn’t a warning; it was an angry command. She wanted the finishing blow, and that was fine by me. I slid to the side to make room for the head of her hammer as it blunted the air in an arc toward the Corpse Crow. The metallic clang signaled its death, and the crow died, but not before letting out a final schweeeedle that almost sounded like a question, as though the thing couldn’t believe it had been defeated.

  I waited for the swirl of Quintessence, for the gleam of an item on the ground ready to be looted, but nothing came. The body of the Corpse Crow simply lay there motionless. I half expected it to leap up and attack again.

  “What is this…” Altarus said suspiciously, walking up behind us but keeping his distance. The yellow feathers stirred. The lifeless body of the rat-bird shivered and quaked as though something was moving deep inside the thing’s guts.

  “Get back!” I shouted as the bird exploded. Blood and bile sprayed like an open fire hydrant, slinging streams of putrid crimson in every direction. I Shadowstepped out of the way, slamming into one of the foundation walls with enough force to knock the wind out of me, but it was better than what I suspected I’d get from the bird’s death trap.

  Altarus was out of range, but Fujiko took the brunt of it. The foul mess drenched her, turning her into a bloody mess, a statue of flesh and guts. The bird’s remains splattered across the stone and ground as Fujiko cried out in anger and disgust.

  “Fucking ewwww!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, but I had a suspicion that the bird’s little surprise was more than just an excuse to gross people out.

  “Heal up, Fujiko!” I shouted. “Now!”

  “This is gross—” she began, but I cut her off immediately.

  “HEAL!” I shouted. “You’re frenzied!”

  That got her attention. I saw the flicker from her eyes as she checked, and her expression confirmed my suspicion.

  “Oh, shit!” She fumbled with a Soothing Syrup, barely getting the liquid into her lips before the Frenzy hit. Red spikes exploded from her body like a spiked mace beating its way out from inside her. All but a tiny sliver of her health vanished instantly.

  “Jesus!” she cried out, gulping down more Soothing Syrup as Altarus and I walked over to her. “That little bastard!”

  I slurped my own syrup to get myself back to full. “I figured he had somethi
ng up his nasty little sleeve. Frenzy is nasty.”

  “How exactly does it work?” she asked.

  “When those snail bastards got me with it, it took off 90% of my health,” I told her.

  “90% of your total? Or 90% of what you had at the time?”

  “That’s a good point…” I mused, trying to think back to the swamp and how much health I’d lost exactly. “90% of your total would make more sense though, knowing Mizaguchi. Then it could actually kill you after the fight was over.”

  “I’d suspect that is the case,” Altarus replied. “That sounds exactly like the thinking of Mizaguchi to me.”

  “Well, if he thinks a few frenzied Corpse Crows are going to keep me from reaching the Fortune Teller, then he’s underestimated his core audience,” I said as I hoisted my Shovel Axe and stepped past Fujiko, who was still grimacing and slapping away at her offal jacket given to her by the dying bird. I had places to be, and nothing was going to stop me, least of all some Level 11 rat-birds.

  42

  The Cutpurse and the Ruins of Londorin

  “There is a scourge among us! This is now the third time the Captain’s quarters have been pillaged! This is unacceptable! How you scabs can be so incompetent as to let a thief slip past your posts is beyond me! Twenty lashes to all!”

  —Full Colonel Engelbert Brass after the “third incident”

  We encountered more of the Corpse Crows on our way up the slope as we navigated the maze created by the ruined basements and foundations that cut through the ground. Their cries of schweedle, schweedle had become music to my ears, and we worked more and more like a well-oiled machine as we progressed through what I imagined were the Ruins of Londorin.