“And an evoker was one of them?” Mapper asked.
Er-Lan nodded. “Evokers have some of the magical powers of the warlocks, but only very specific powers used for very specific attacks. These are very dangerous creatures and should be avoided. All must leave this mansion while it is still possible.”
Watcher sighed. “I know you’re concerned, but there’s something here I must see.”
As he thought about the image the flail had shown him, his hands began to glow a soft purple. He had seen a room with books covering one wall, a wide table in the middle with a map of the Overworld covering its surface. Many of the villagers stepped back, afraid. Watcher glanced down at his arms, then looked at the NPCs. He could see the fear in their eyes; they were afraid of him.
“All must be wary of the evokers . . . they are very deadly.” Er-Lan’s voice cracked with fear.
“I think we should listen to our friend here,” Cleric said. “Maybe instead of everyone just spreading out, we break up into two large groups.”
“I think you’re right.” Watcher nodded. “Cleric, you and Cutter take half the army and search this floor. Planter and I will lead the rest of the army to the second floor and search there.” He turned to face the zombie. “Er-Lan, I want you right next to me the whole time. I’m gonna keep you safe from this evoker thing.”
The zombie mumbled something low and unintelligible, then nodded.
“Okay, everyone . . . eyes sharp. Let’s find us some loot, then get out of here.” Watcher reached into his inventory for a weapon. His fingers brushed the handle of the flail and instantly, thoughts of his many failures burst into his head. Pushing the weapon inside, he found Needle’s hilt, drew the sword with his right hand, and held it high over his head. With his left, he pulled out a wooden shield and held it close to his body.
“Everyone . . . go!”
Half the army moved off to the right while Watcher ascended the stairs, the sound of monsters growing louder and louder.
At the top of the stairs, Watcher placed a torch on the ground, then turned just as an arrow streaked past his head.
“Skeleton!” he called out in warning, and held his shield up just in time to catch the next pointed shaft. It thumped into the wooden square, the sharp tip sticking through the back. Arrows streaked past Watcher’s shoulders as the other villagers fired on the creature. The monster fired again, but was quickly silenced.
Watcher checked the hallway and found it clear of threats, but he could still hear moaning and growling; the monsters were close. A torch flickered at the end of the passage, but the side rooms were all cloaked in darkness, and with monsters nearby, darkness was the enemy. Putting away Needle, Watcher pulled out a stack of torches, then handed them to Er-Lan. “Come on, you’re gonna give us some light. Stay right next to me.”
He moved along the red carpet, Er-Lan right at his side. Every dozen blocks, the zombie placed a torch on a wall, splashing a flickering glow on the corridor. The moans of zombies were growing louder and angrier. Moving to a doorway on the left side of the passage, Watcher stood next to the entrance and drew his sword and shield, his hands both glowing with a purple luster that matched his enchanted blade.
“As soon as we go in, put torches on the ground,” he told the zombie.
Er-Lan nodded.
Just then, they heard fighting on the floor below, iron clashing into iron. The sound caused the hairs on the back of Watcher’s neck to stand up, his whole body quivering just a bit.
I hope they’re okay, he thought.
An angry growl came from the room he was about to enter. It was a zombie-like groan, but it sounded more vicious somehow than any zombie he’d heard before.
“Here we go,” he whispered to Er-Lan, then ran into the room.
A loud growl floated out of the darkness. Er-Lan placed a torch on the ground, revealing a dining area with table and chairs, as well as a gray carpet trimmed in white covering the floor. At one end stood a villager zombie with gray skin. His bulbous nose, hanging down across his mouth, was a charcoal color, as were his eyes. The monster wore what looked like a military uniform of some sort, his jacket dark with gray buttons running down either side. A pair of dark bluish-green pants covered the monster’s legs.
“I’ve never seen zombies looking like them before,” Watcher whispered to Er-Lan. “What are they?”
The zombie-villager’s hands were linked across his chest, but as soon as it heard Watcher’s voice, the monster pulled out an axe and charged. A bloodcurdling scream filled the room as the zombie attacked. Watcher brought up his shield just in time to deflect the axe’s blow, the impact almost tearing the wooden rectangle from his grip. The stench from the creature was terrible, its rotting flesh smelling just like decaying meat.
Swinging Needle, he pushed the monster back, the zombie’s axe blocking his attacks. Two more of the creatures emerged from the shadows, their angry, insane howls filling the room and their axes shining in the flickering light from the torch as they spotted Planter by the entrance.
“Vindicators . . . they’re vindicators!” Er-Lan shouted in warning.
“Not for long,” Blaster said.
He charged at the two monsters, his iron armor shining bright. He slashed at them as he ran by, his curved knives slipping past their vicious axes. Planter fired at the creatures with her enchanted bow, striking one but missing the other. It didn’t even slow their advance. Putting away her bow, Planter drew her golden axe and ran toward the zombies. More villagers charged in, but it was difficult for them to help in the confines of the small room.
The vindicators attacked with such vicious anger and rage, as if they’d been programmed to hate NPCs. They moved completely differently from regular zombies or zombie villagers, sprinting across the floor instead of moving at a slow shuffle. They charged at their enemies without concern for injury; they were consumed with a thirst for violence. But the worst parts about the creatures were their eyes and their screams; both were filled with terrible, unquenchable hatred.
An axe thudded against Watcher’s shield, causing a crack to form down the center. He pushed the monster backward, then allowed his awareness to flow through Needle. Somehow, he seemed to merge with the weapon, the enchanted blade becoming part of his body. Needle moved on its own, but this time, it was smarter and faster.
The shimmering weapon slashed at the vindicator, hitting it in the shoulder, then the knee, then across the ribs. The monster groaned in pain, but never stopped attacking. It was as if it had no choice but to attack; these vindicators, or whatever they were, indeed seemed to be like living weapons, made by the warlocks during the Great War.
The vindicator charged at Watcher again, but Blaster slashed at it from behind. The vicious zombie screamed, then turned toward its attacker. Instantly, Watcher charged, Needle tearing into the monster’s HP.
Planter backed away from her attackers, letting the villagers from behind open fire with their bows. A dozen arrows fell on the other two monsters, their cries of pain as they were defeated mixed, not with fear, but rage. These were creatures bred for only one purpose: destruction.
The closest vindicator charged at Watcher, its axe held high over its head. Watcher rolled to the left and hacked at the zombie’s legs. Flashing red with damage, the monster wailed, then attacked again without even slowing, but Blaster emerged from the shadows, his dual, curved knives slashing through the air with steely purpose.
With one last crazed scream of fury, the vindicator disappeared, leaving an emerald and three glowing balls of XP on the carpeted floor.
“Is everyone okay?” Watcher asked.
His companions nodded.
“Search the room—they must be protecting something in this mansion.”
The villagers spread out, knocking over chairs and tables, even tearing up the carpeting. They found nothing.
“Let’s go to the next room.” Blaster put away his knives, then wiped his brow. “There’s nothing here.”
Suddenly, the floor beneath them shook and footsteps reverberated down the hallway. Watcher quickly had all the villagers file into the room, then move against the walls. He stood on one side of the doorway, Blaster on the other, while Er-Lan extinguished all of the torches. Then, somehow, Watcher was able to still the magical enchantment in Needle. The iridescent glow normally wrapped around the blade grew dim, as did the glow from his hands. The darkness grew deep, hiding the villagers from whatever approached.
The footsteps grew closer, the floor shaking with the pounding of boots.
“Get ready,” Watcher whispered. He couldn’t see the other villagers, but he knew there must be expressions of fear painted across their square faces.
The footsteps were right outside the room, but suddenly they stopped. Slowly, a hulking, shadowy shape entered the room, holding something that resembled a shaft of ice.
“Any monster in here better get out of the way,” a deep voice boomed.
It was Cutter.
The villagers in the darkness laughed as Er-Lan pulled out a torch and placed it on the ground.
“Oh, there you are,” the big NPC said. “What are you all doing in the dark?”
“Apparently, hiding from you,” Watcher said, grinning.
“That doesn’t seem very smart.” Cutter laughed. “Did you find what you were looking for yet?”
Watcher shook his head. “There’s one more room at the end of this hallway. That must be the room we need.”
“I saw it; follow me.” Planter held her axe high in the air, then ran into the corridor, heading for the last room.
Watcher followed her along the red carpet running down the center of the passage. The last room had an entrance larger than any of the others, with a complicated pattern of blocks and slabs around the doorway making it look like a wide arch. The room smelled stale and rotten, as if something ancient were decaying on the dust-covered floor.
“Don’t go in,” Er-Lan whispered, the zombie’s face pale almost devoid of color. The creature was so scared, he almost couldn’t stand.
“Is the evoker in there?” Watcher asked in a hushed voice.
The zombie nodded. “Walk away.”
“I can’t. There’s something in there I must see.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I need your help. Can you help me?”
Er-Lan moved his head up and down almost imperceptibly, then sighed, an expression of resignation on his scarred face.
“Everyone ready?” Watcher cast his gaze across the faces of the villagers huddled together in the hallway.
Just then, a terrible, low-pitched sound came from the dark room. It was something between a moan and a growl; it sounded angry beyond reason, as if the beast within had lost every bit of its sanity, and only evil and rage remained. A shiver of fear slithered down Watcher’s spine. His heart pumped faster, his breaths shallow and raspy. That monster’s growl nearly drove the last bit of courage from him, making him want to run and hide. But a distant voice in the back of his mind whispered something faint and ancient: Someone must stand against the storm. Watcher knew that person had to be him. The iridescent glow from his hands grew brighter, then slowly crept up to his elbows and pulsed with life, the power filling his mind from some other place . . . or maybe it was some other time?
Gripping Needle firmly, Watcher forced the magic deep into his soul, causing his sword and arms to grow dark, until only the faintest wisp of lavender hugged his skin. Stepping toward the entrance, Watcher turned and glanced at his companions.
“Here we go.”
Then he ran into the dark room to face the ancient terror waiting for its next victim.
“Er-Lan, place a torch on the ground,” Watcher said.
The zombie shuffled into the darkness, unable to function due to fear. Blaster took the torches from the monster’s shaking hands and started putting them on the ground. The light revealed a large room with a huge square table at the center and chairs lining its edges. Across the table was a gigantic, pixelated map of the Far Lands. One wall was completely covered with book cases, their shelves filled with ancient books.
The growling moan sounded again, this time from the back of the chamber.
Watcher glanced urgently at Blaster. “More torches.”
The boy nodded, then ran through the room, placing torches on the floor. Leaping across the wide table, he placed some high up on the opposite walls, then sprinted back for the entrance.
On the far end of the room, standing in a corner, was another of the gray-skinned villager-zombies. This one wore a long brown smock with a wide gold stripe running down the center. He had his arms tucked into his sleeves, as if hiding something. This creature wasn’t like the vindicators they’d just faced. There was a sense of power about it, power that was old and mysterious.
Watcher put away his weapon and lowered his shield. He slowly raised his hands to announce that he was unarmed. At that moment, his arms started glowing again, giving off the iridescent purple glow as magical power seeped from his soul.
The evoker’s eyes shifted to Watcher’s arms, then grew wide with surprise.
“WIZARD!” the monster shrieked.
Raising his arms over his head, the zombie-villager growled some kind of incantation, the words unintelligible. Gray spirals of mystical power poured out of the monster’s brown sleeves. Watcher could feel the buildup of magic in the room, the energy from the evoker stabbing at his mind.
“Evoker . . . evoker,” Er-Lan moaned in terror.
Suddenly, tiny demons appeared in the air, each colored the same as the zombie-villager: a colorless gray, but with stains of crimson across their bodies, as if they were splashed with . . . Watcher didn’t want to think about it.
The small demons floated up into the air on pointed wings, each with a sword in their miniature hands. They laughed evil, maniacal laughs as they streaked toward Watcher. His blood froze as the wicked creatures descended upon the villagers, screeching in terrifying glee.
“Vexes,” Er-Lan moaned. “The evoker summoned vexes.” The zombie sounded terrified.
“Everyone, scatter!” Watcher called as he drew his blade and shield, then charged at the nearest monster.
The dreadful shrieks from the vexes chilled Watcher’s blood, echoing off the bare wooden walls and reflecting back to him from all sides—it was the worst thing he’d ever heard.
Swinging with all his strength, Watcher attacked the vex, but it was so small and fast that it easily evaded Needle’s path. Then, a blade sliced into Watcher’s shoulder. He grunted in pain, and spun around to attack the monster, but the vex who had cut him laughed, then flew away higher into the air, out of reach.
The flying demons swooped down upon the NPCs, slashing at them with their tiny swords, stabbing at exposed backs. Villages shouted out in pain and fear, their voices barely audible over the frightening shrieks of the winged monsters. He could hear bodies hitting the ground as the HP of his friends and comrades was consumed, and Watcher had had just about enough of that.
Rage exploded within him. “No more . . . NO MORE!”
Putting away his sword and shield, Watcher pulled out his enchanted bow and fired at the creature. His arrow struck it, causing the monster to flash red. It screeched in pain, then swooped down, causing the boy to dive to the ground. As it passed by, Watcher stood and fired at its back, his pointed shafts striking the creature’s wings. Others were already following Watcher’s lead and using their bows on the vexes, but the evoker was summoning more and more of the creatures into existence. They flitted about the map room, dive-bombing the villagers and driving them back into the hallway.
With a hideous laugh, the evoker strutted toward Watcher as the rest of the NPCs retreated.
I must destroy that monster before he summons more of the vexes, Watcher thought.
Just as he was
about to charge toward it, the zombie-villager raised his hand over his head again, but this time, instead of summoning more of the flying demons, a deep, horn-like sound resonated off the walls. A line of metallic jaws, like the snouts of carnivorous animals, burst upward out of the floor and tried to devour Watcher. One of them caught his leg and bit down, causing pain to envelop his senses. He struggled for freedom, but the iron teeth held him firmly for just an instant, then released and descended back into the floor.
Watcher quickly dashed out of the room, the evoker in pursuit. When he reached the hallway, Watcher had an idea. Pulling out blocks of stone, he put two of the cubes under his feet so he stood high in the air.
“Everyone, get on top of two blocks of stone or wood!” he shouted to the others.
With his bow, he fired at the vexes as they dive bombed him, but stayed on his tower of stone; he hoped the metallic jaws couldn’t reach him at this height. When the evoker stepped out of the map room, Watcher turned his bow toward the zombie-villager. Notching three arrows, one of them a fire arrow, he pulled back the bowstring, then released. The shafts hit the monster, setting him ablaze. Shouting in rage, the magical creature raised his hands, summoning the fanged attack again, but this time, the shining teeth snapped at stone; they could not reach high enough. The metallic teeth harmlessly brushed the soles of Watcher’s boots, but that was all.
“Everyone, shoot the evoker!” Watcher shouted.
A dozen arrows fell upon the evoker, stabbing at the monster’s HP. The creature screamed in pain, summoning the fanged attack again, but those closest stood on blocks of stone, too high for the metallic jaws to reach. Watcher drew and fired faster than he thought possible, his body moving without thought, instinct ruling his arms. Finally, his arrows took the last of the evoker’s HP from his magical body. Giving off one last shout of animalistic rage, the magical creature fell to the side and disappeared, dropping something that looked like a small doll.
Watcher jumped down and grabbed the idol, then turned his bow upon the flying demons. Their shrieks of anger and pain filled the passage as arrows flew through the air, tearing into the tiny monsters’ health. But without the evoker adding to their numbers, the little vexes quickly fell to the villagers’ pointed shafts.
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