by Kyle Johnson
“No, I think not,” a raspy voice sounded in the room. Aranos and Lily both froze as a swirl of dust began to rise in the room, along with a sense of incredible power that dwarfed what had just filled the room. The dust rose into a column; in the center of it, a man-sized figure began to form. The shape was skeletal, hunched, with blackened bones that had gobbets of rotted meat still clinging to them. It was draped in the rotted remains of what was once clothing, with a corroded crown of some sort perched upon its head. Magical energy radiated from it in waves, enough to freeze Aranos’ breath in his throat, and he flicked a hand signal to the others…Run.
“No, we won’t be running away, either,” the figure spoke, its voice dry and hoarse as if it hadn’t spoken in ages. Its tone was utterly flat and emotionless, as if it were speaking of things far too inconsequential to concern it. “At least, not until my curiosity is sated.” Aranos heard a roar from outside the temple, and Silma vanished instantly as he felt her presence racing down the passageway, back toward the entrance.
Pack leader, her voice practically shouted in his mind, the street is filled with undead! There must be a thousand of them!
When I signal, close your eyes, he instructed her. Then get ready to lead the others straight back to the tunnel. Do not wait for me, do you understand? He felt the wolf’s protest, but he cut her off. I’m not asking. I’m telling you. Do you understand?
Yes, pack leader, she sent back softly. I understand.
“I assume your Companion has informed you of your situation, yes?” the creature before them chuckled, not waiting for Aranos to answer. “Good, then there is no need for theatrics. Allow me to introduce myself; I am Zoridos, Ruler of Antas, and you, my little Sorcerer…you interest me. Enough, at least, to keep this youngling from doing any sort of permanent damage to you.”
“This wasn’t our deal, Zoridos!” Lily protested, taking a step forward, dark mana rising on her hands. “I brought them here, and in return, I get to kill…” The lich glanced at the woman, and her voice choked off. Her eyes grew wide as she fell to her knees, and a look of fear passed across her face.
“You understand now, do you, youngling?” Zoridos spoke, its voice still dry and emotionless as it moved slowly and stiffly to stand over Lily, touching the woman’s cheek with one bony finger. “I am the master of all undead in Antas, and now that you are one such, you are mine to command. You thought I would grant you power for nothing? No, child, power is never free. You will earn what I have granted you with centuries of service.” Lily’s eyes were wild, and her face betrayed her sheer terror, but her head nodded in acquiescence, seemingly against her will. Aranos quickly signaled the others once more as the undead lord’s attention was distracted, and the party began moving toward the exit.
“Now, where was I?” Zoridos spoke, turning back to Aranos. “Ah yes, the Sorcerer. You are powerful even among your kind, child, just as this youngling is. I have decided to make you my apprentice; you will serve me and learn at my feet. In return, I will allow your companions to leave unmolested.”
“Sorry, not interested,” Aranos said bleakly, gathering his mana and reaching down into the core of himself. “Morx offered me the same thing, and I gave him the same answer. Before you try to convince me, I can see what you did to Lily. I know how this will go. Like I said, not interested.”
The creature chuckled, the first sign of emotion Aranos had seen in it. “Yes, you are more perceptive than the Summoner was. She sought power and thought it would grant her freedom and vengeance. Instead, she exchanged one set of bonds for another. You will do the same, however, or you will watch your companions tormented and slowly killed before your eyes. Save everyone the bother and accept my offer, child.”
“Never gonna happen,” Aranos shook his head. “In fact, we’ll be leaving, NOW!” As he shouted, he sent a message to Silma and flashed the signal to run to his party. At the same time, he grabbed the pool of vital mana within him and funneled most of his LP, Str, and End into a massive wave of power. He dumped it into his SP pool, shifting it into mana and then changing that into soul mana. He threw all of it, tens of thousands of SP into the Spell hanging outside, and suddenly a brilliant light, brighter than the sun, swept into the temple, accompanied by a shriek of fury from Zoridos.
Pack leader, the undead…they’re gone! Silma’s voice rang disbelievingly in his ears. They just…
RUN! he screamed mentally, cutting her off as the light faded. The elves were gone, but the players were charging forward, toward the enraged Zoridos. Aranos grinned as he saw that the light had burned the creature’s arm, scorching and cracking the bone, shattering fingers and leaving a stump of wrist behind. Lead the elves to safety!
“Idiot!” Zoridos screeched, holding up the stump of its hand, all of its calm vanished now. “Look what you’ve done! You will pay!” The creature held up its free hand, and Aranos dumped the few SP he had left into a blast of light mana, hurling it at the creature’s face. At the same instant, a wave of green power exploded from the monster’s upraised palm, tearing through his Death’s Ward and his Armor in an instant, enfolding him in a haze of green light that ripped away the last of his dwindling LP.
Blackness enfolded him, and Aranos prepared for respawn.
Martina watched the battle raging around her helplessly, grinding her teeth in pain and frustration. The wound in her lower chest burned like fire and felt colder than ice at the same time. Her LP had plummeted to below 50% from the single strike, and her Str and End had both dropped similarly. Her regen hadn’t kicked in because technically she was in combat right now, so the pain of the wound was unabated.
That wasn’t the source of her frustration, though. That came from how helpless she was while others were fighting her battle. If she and Hector could get free, they could help; her armor and weapons were sitting in her inventory, automatically transferred there when she fell unconscious, and she assumed the same was true for Hector. They had both leveled up pretty well during the journey and were almost ready for their Advanced Classes, and here they were, missing the big battle against Liam and his minions of darkness. Or her minions, whatever.
The more she watched, though, the more awed she felt by the scope of the battle being waged overhead. Aranos and Liam – Lily, she corrected mentally – were tossing Spells around effortlessly, without needing incantations or even a few moments of concentration. She had assumed that a Wizard needed time to cast, time that would allow her to stick some arrows in their eyes, but both spellcasters seemed able to raise shields with a thought and to hurl Spells with just a gesture. if Liam had been using this kind of magic the whole time, their trip here would have been a breeze. Or, she supposed, maybe it wouldn’t have; the game probably would have escalated in difficulty to the point that Hector and she might have been kind of useless.
The casters weren’t the only ones that were fighting at a level Martina didn’t think she could match, though. That elven tank was a freaking force of nature, hurling Lily’s summoned monsters back effortlessly with a wave of her shield. Her spear was a scorpion’s tail, flickering out and puncturing the creatures with ease, felling one after another. The giant wolf was, if anything, even scarier, ripping open throats and legs with fangs that actually glowed, knocking monsters flying, taking them to the ground without even seeming to try. Hell, even Phil was cutting through the monsters easily enough, using a literal flaming sword…
As the Spellsword seemed to feel her gaze on him, he looked her way and met her eyes. She expected to see anger there, or maybe contempt, but the big man simply flashed her a quick grin. Instantly, she felt a wave of shame wash over her. Phil had to have known this was a trap, but he got his new Party Leader to come anyway, just to save them. Hector was right; Phil had always had her back, and she’d never once thanked him for it.
Had she ever even thanked Hector? It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t; Hector had stood by her through all this, had believed in her, and she hadn’t even told him how
much she appreciated it. Well, that was simple enough to fix; she and Hector would either make it through this or would respawn together, and once this was settled, she’d make sure to tell him how grateful she was for his presence.
The battle raged around her, and soon enough it looked like things were turning against Lily. Her Spells weren’t having the effect she wanted on Aranos – Martina could tell from the flashes of annoyance that occasionally appeared on her face – but the Wizard kept breaking her shield and hitting her with Spells. As a gray light enfolded the woman and she dropped from the sky, Martina felt a flash of triumph, one that turned into grim satisfaction as a dark, shadowy blade burst from the Summoner’s chest. Aranos is obviously a Battle Wizard of some kind, the Ranger realized. Lily should have played to her strengths and used her summons more instead of fighting him in a Spell battle. He had all the advantages, there.
Suddenly, though, the wound in her side flared, and she watched helplessly as her LP began to plunge. The dark power she’d felt building in the temple all night seemed to rush through her, drawing her life with it and pouring directly into Lily. Martina watched in horror as the woman changed before her eyes, becoming something that looked like almost like a vampire, except more evil and less sparkly. Martina could feel the power radiating from the woman, and she knew that Aranos had made a mistake; Lily had wanted to lose the battle. She needed to die to win.
When the dry, dusty voice appeared in the room, Martina could barely pay attention; the wound in her chest was pulsing with heat and cold, demanding her attention. She knew that it was slowly killing her, and it didn’t seem like there was much she could do to avoid respawn. She let her head fall back, resigned to waking up in the waypoint along the High Road, watching as her LP crept steadily toward zero.
Before the wound could finish her off, though, a pulse of light washed through the room, brighter than anything she’d seen in game. The light seemed to sear into her wound, and she cried out as the fire of it wormed down into her, melting the ice that had been building in her veins. Agony raced through her as the light seemed to fight against whatever darkness the blade had left inside her, and she screamed in pain, a scream that was drowned out by twin shrieks from Lily and the thing that had entered the room. New warmth rushed through her, but before the ice could thaw completely, a massive wave of green energy washed over Martina, and blackness claimed her.
Her time in the respawn room dragged almost interminably. She watched the holo-TV, caught up on news, and even checked on her party. Hector had gone to respawn, as well, but technically Lily was still part of the party, so Martina could follow her. Whatever attack brought that massive light into the room had badly burned the woman but hadn’t killed her; from what Martina could see, the Summoner probably wished she had died and gone to respawn. Whatever the thing was that had come into the room, it looked pretty pissed, and it appeared that Lily was the most convenient outlet for its temper. While Martina wasn’t the forgiving sort, she was also starting to feel bad for Lily. After all, it wasn’t like Martina always made the best choices in the game, and she didn’t want to have to go through what the woman was enduring. Martina finally couldn’t watch anymore and turned the holo-TV back to entertainment shows, waiting for her three hours to pass.
When the door finally appeared, Martina rushed through it, welcoming the weird falling sensation that accompanied returning to the game. She opened her eyes, expecting to see the High Road waystation, but instead, an unfamiliar room materialized before her. Hector faded into view a moment later, but he looked as surprised as she did.
When the first of Phil’s party respawned in front of her, Martina knew that something was wrong. She quickly pulled up the red notifications she’d been ignoring, assuming that it was informing her of her death and the associated debuffs:
You have died!
XP Lost: 4,280 (Currently 38,520)
Str, Dex, Agil halved. Duration, 1 hour upon respawn
Better luck next time!
Warning!
Your current spawn point, High Road East Antas Waystation, is occupied by unfriendly creatures.
Your last safe spawn point is Stoneleague, Dangling Fool Inn. As this is in a separate region, your spawn point is being reset to the nearest neutral or friendly spawn point in this region.
New Spawn Point: Antas, Southwest Watchtower
Racial Evolution!
Due to the extreme concentrations of Necrotic and Restorative mana in your body at the time of your death, your race has Evolved!
New Race: Daywalker
Abilities: Str +3, Agil +3, End +5, Cha -3
A daywalker is half-undead, half-mortal. The bane of the undead, they have many of their darker side’s resistances but few of their weaknesses. Daywalkers are often shunned in civilized areas due to their Life Drain Ability and are often loners, either embracing their undead heritage and the Darkness it brings or fighting against it and turning to the Light.
Abilities
Necrotic Resistance – Daywalkers do not suffer from necrotic damage and do not take Stat damage from necrotic effects. At the same time, they don’t gain Stat bonuses from necrotic effects as true undead do.
Restorative Resistance – Daywalkers take neither damage nor gain bonuses from restorative Spells and effects.
Healing Resistance – Daywalkers cannot be healed through normal magical means, such as Spells, Abilities, or works of Alchemy. They can heal using non-magical medicines or bandages, although these are only 50% as effective for them.
Life Drain – A daywalker can use a Life Drain attack on any living creature. This attack does damage equal to the daywalker’s [(Wis -10)/2, rounded down], although a creature can resist this with an Opposed Check of their End versus the daywalker’s Wis. The daywalker heals LP equal to the damage inflicted. Note that using this Ability on an unwilling target is inherently evil and will grant Corruption Points equal to 1 per 10 LP damage inflicted, with a minimum of 1 Corruption Point per usage. Using the Ability on a willing target does not grant Corruption Points.
Undead Resistance – Daywalkers are immune to normal diseases and poisons, although they can be harmed by magical versions of these. They gain a +5 bonus to Opposed Checks to resist mental attacks or debuffs.
Martina stared at her hand; her toffee-colored skin was several shades paler, now, and dark veins were visible beneath her skin. As she turned to look at Hector, the big Warrior stared at her, his face creased with a puzzled frowned.
“What the hell happened to you, sister?”
Chapter 15
As the plain surroundings of the respawn room swam into Aranos’ vision, he rushed to the holo-TV and quickly tuned it to show his party. Of the other players, there was no sign – he assumed that the blast that killed him had taken them out as well – but he quickly located Silma and the elves, racing through the city. The undead were starting to emerge, and the party had to fight free in some places, but by taking a direct route back to the tunnel, they seemed to be avoiding the mass ambush that Zoridos and Lily had undoubtedly laid along the path they’d originally taken. They reached the tunnel in safety, and Aranos continued to watch until they cleared the necrotic zone and finally slipped out into the rising dawn outside the city. Only then did he relax. Zoridos had been after Aranos, after all, not the elves, so he doubted the undead creature – was it a lich, or something totally different? Aranos didn’t know, but he decided to classify the creature as a lich until he was certain it wasn’t – would send undead out into the daylight to chase the fleeing party. It had killed the players, anyways, and that was the point of the game: to challenge the players, not the NPCs.
Sighing, he sat back and called up the replay of his most recent death. The blast of necrotic energy from the lich had been enormous and had scoured everything from the room except, apparently, for Lily, although he hadn’t realized that the massive restorative mana bomb he’d planted seemed to have burned the woman badly. He filed that information away f
or later usage; Lily was undead, now, and that meant that she would be harmed by whatever other undead were. She was probably weaker in sunlight, she obviously took damage from restorative mana, and light-based attacks would be especially effective against her.
At the same time, he’d felt the huge boost in magical power her transformation had given her. While he still thought he could probably take her one-on-one, it would be a hard, close battle, and that was only if his party was able to keep her summoned creatures away from him. If it were just her and him – he had to admit that at the moment, Lily had the advantage. He needed to work to remedy that, though, and that meant he’d have to practice more with his Enhanced mana, unlock the remaining two types, and create more Spells to deal specifically with Summoners.
He settled back with a sigh before he remembered that here, in his respawn room, he could do more digging about Lily and how she was still in the game. Phil had clammed up on him when he’d pressed the issue, which meant that while his friend knew what was going on, he was afraid to say anything, probably out of fear of losing his job. Aranos understood that – well, technically, Jeff the programmer understood that – and since he didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable, he’d let the matter drop.
The login credentials he’d co-opted before still worked, and within a few minutes he was searching through the Pendè security layer, trying to find more information about the code word Ultra. Thirty minutes later, with nothing to show, he decided to try a different tack and instead went searching outside the network. He wasn’t looking for anything about Ultra or the character Lily Morningbane; instead, he scoured the public networks for information on Livia Tamarank.
He got a hit at once, and as he read, he realized that Lily had been telling him the truth; she was evil, in life as well as in death. Livia Tamarank wasn’t just a bad person; she was a mass murderer, a serial killer who liked to torture her victims for days. Like most serial killers, she had a preferred target, going after middle-aged, balding, overweight men. While not overwhelmingly pretty, Livia was attractive enough, and she would pick men up at bars and clubs, drug them, and take them home for her amusement.
