Rogue Online: The Devil's Gate: A LitRPG adventure

by E K Baxter

  Concentrating on the arrow he commanded, “Alight!”

  Sure enough, a small silver flame lit with a ‘whoosh’, enveloping the arrow head where it burned steadily. Max’s mana pool decreased slightly. Taking aim at a nearby post, he squinted and then let the arrow fly. It thunked into the post where the flame continued to burn, gradually eating the arrow until it was little more than a pile of ash. The post itself remained unharmed.

  Max shrugged. “Practice makes perfect I guess.”

  Terra picked up a shield and examined it but then shook her head and passed it to Sam.

  “Here, this will do you more good than me. I prefer to fight two-handed.”

  “Ha! Finally! A new shield!” Sam took it with a nod of thanks, replacing his dented, blood-splattered, old one. His new shield was large and rectangular and would help him withstand stronger attacks. Terra swapped her two short-swords for two slim, curved blades that looked like samurai swords but with tapered points that could be used for stabbing as well as slashing. Terra, grinning, slashed them experimentally through the air a few times until they made a pleasing swishing noise.

  “This was a good idea of yours, True Worlder,” she said, nodding approvingly.

  The only other things they found on the bodies were a few gold coins which Max pocketed. He looked around at the scene of carnage. Although they had taken a bit of a hit on their HP, the trade-off in loot and leveling his archery skills had been worth it.

  x2 level up! Level: 9

  You have earned two stat points to be distributed as you choose.

  You may allocate your stat points at any time. Any unallocated stat points will be lost in the event of death.

  Keep on leveling!

  As usual, he allocated his stat points into Wisdom [level 8].

  Max looked around, taking in the Tapestry Quarter. In the distance rose a huge building. It had many turrets and towers poking into the sky like claws. Countless windows stared out like sightless eyes. The building had been made of a dark stone that seemed to devour light and to Max’s mind it looked like a predator hunched and waiting for its prey.

  “What is that place?” he asked, suppressing a shudder.

  “Lord Mespar’s palace,” Terra murmured, her eyes fixed on the huge building. “A dark place. We should avoid it at all costs.”

  “Then it’s not our lucky day,” Sam said. “We have to approach the palace, at least for a while. My family’s estate lies within its shadow.” His voice quavered and he’d gone pale.

  “Come on,” Max replied. “The sooner we get moving the sooner we find the next clue.”

  Together they stepped under the filigree archway and into the Tapestry Quarter. The first thing that Max noticed was that this area was far more prosperous than the rest of the city. Instead of narrow streets and twisting alleyways where buildings hunched together, vying for space, the streets here were wide and open, interspersed with parks and green spaces. There were fewer people too. Those that they did see were often walking singly, eyes glassy and movements jerky. They paid Max and his friends no attention. At the end of the street they passed a tavern with raucous music blaring out and the sound of many voices within. A quick look through a window showed it full of mercenaries busy eating and drinking. Although a fight might have offered some more loot and XP, they decided to pass it by in favor of speed.

  As they walked, the palace got bigger and bigger until it seemed to dominate the horizon like some bloated canker. Max was hard pressed not to keep looking at it. He felt sure that there were many unseen eyes staring out of those windows, watching him and his companions, biding their time until their trap was ready to spring...

  “Here we are!” Sam announced, snapping Max out of his thoughts.

  They’d arrived at a huge walled estate. A large pair of gates was set into the wall, their tops wrought into the same filigree writing as the entrance to the Tapestry Quarter. This time the sign read: The Hopwood Estate. Outside the gates sat a large guardhouse with a red-tiled roof and at least fifteen guards patrolling.

  Terra whistled under her breath. “Some might say your family is a bit paranoid.”

  Sam glanced at her. “Aye. These are all Mespar’s men.”

  “How are we going to get through?” Max asked. “We can’t take down all of them.”

  Sam grinned. “Didn’t I say I had a plan? They might be Lord Mespar’s mercenaries but it’s still their job to guard the Hopwood Estate—and its scions. And since I’m the heir to the Hopwood estate, they have to do what I say, right?”

  “I thought you were exiled?”

  “I was, but they won’t know that, will they?”

  Max frowned. “That’s one hell of a risk. What if they do know? What if your father’s left orders that if you return you’re to be arrested on sight? Or worse, killed?”

  Sam waved a dismissive hand. “He wouldn’t do that. I’m his only son.”

  Max didn’t share Sam’s enthusiasm. He knew his friend was desperately clinging to the belief that his family were only serving Lord Mespar because he was controlling them, but the evidence Max had seen so far suggested they might be more complicit than Sam wanted to believe. The problem was, he and his friends had no other plan. They had to get inside and find the next clue to Arlena’s whereabouts if they were to complete this quest. So, even though Sam’s plan was crazy, Max nodded.

  “Okay. So who are we supposed to be?”

  “Business associates. I’ll tell them I’ve been away brokering a new trade deal for my family and that you’ve come back with me to finalize the deal. Just nod and agree to anything I say. Right?”

  Max and Terra shared a look. Terra let out a long breath.

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret this?”

  Sam shrugged. “Nah, it’ll be fine, you’ll see. We’ll soon be enjoying the legendary hospitality of the Hopwood family! Follow me.”

  They stepped out and Sam led the way as they walked purposefully up to the gates. Max tried his best to look confident, as though he had every right to be there. The guards crossed halberds, blocking the gates.

  “Who goes there?”

  Sam drew himself up haughtily and fixed the leader with a hard stare. “I am Samriel Hopwood, heir to this estate! How dare you delay me? I have been away on important business and must see my father immediately.”

  The guard captain didn’t move. He slowly chewed something and then spat out a gobbet of black phlegm. “I’ve never seen you before.”

  Sam rolled his eyes, doing a very good impression of an arrogant nobleman. “Of course you haven’t! Are you deaf as well as stupid? Haven’t I just told you I’ve been away? Here’s my seal!” He thrust his hand at the guard and a signet ring bearing his family’s crest glinted in the sunlight.

  The guard frowned at it. “Fine. This way, Master Hopwood.” He waved at the other guards and they pulled the big gates open.

  “What now?” Max whispered as they hurried down a gravel drive. A large house lay at the end.

  “Now we find my father,” Sam whispered back. “If anyone has the second clue to Arlena’s whereabouts, it will be him.”

  Terra, Max noticed, was looking around as they walked, eyes darting everywhere. As a member of the resistance she was used to moving unseen, keeping to cover as much as possible. Acting out in the open like this must not sit well with her. Hell, it didn’t sit well with him. Not for the first time Max wished he had a skill that allowed him to uncover hidden traps or gauge people’s intentions. Alas, that kind of skill required a far higher level than his newb status.

  He resisted the urge to equip one of his weapons. They had to keep up the pretense that they belonged here and coming to the house bearing weapons was hardly the way to do that.

  Sam marched right up to the main door and rang the bell. The house itself was a black-and-white timber framed thing with wooden tiles on the sharply sloping roof. It reminded Max of those Tudor style houses they still had over in England
, the ones tourists would pay good money to look around.

  From inside Max heard a bell ring. The three of them waited impatiently on the doorstep, Max and Terra looking around nervously, wary of enemies creeping up on them from behind. The door finally opened and a glassy-eyed man in a servant’s uniform looked out.

  His eyes widened as he spotted Sam. “Master Samriel!” he exclaimed, his voice an odd monotone that tried unsuccessfully to sound excited. “How lovely to see you!”

  “Hello, Towser,” Max said, grinning. “We’d like to see my father, please.”

  Towser hesitated. His expression folded in on itself, emotions flicking over his face one after the other. Max got the uneasy feeling that he was battling with himself. A moment later the glassy-eyed look returned.

  “Of course, young master,” Towser said. “He will be very pleased to see you. He’s in his study.”

  Towser pulled the door wide and indicated for them to enter. Max followed the others, keeping his hand on the hilt of his knife. They were led into a large vestibule with a polished wooden floor and oak panels on the wall and then down a corridor to a closed wooden door. They saw not a soul and the house was eerily quiet. Their footsteps sounded shockingly loud in the still air.

  Towser knocked on the door and then pushed it open. “Off you go then.”

  They walked through the door into a large study. A window on one side gave a view of a large lawn then Lord Mespar’s palace in the distance. There were no lights lit in the room and the only illumination came from a fire roaring in the fireplace. Firelight danced on the walls, giving the place an eerie feel. As the door closed behind them, Max jumped. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. This was a trap. He could feel it...

  “Ah, there you are!”

  He spun at the jovial voice, so out of place in this shadowy room. A man stood up from a chair by the fire. He was tall with silver hair and deep-set eyes and had a large gold medallion hanging around his neck. The resemblance to Sam was uncanny. Sam approached the man.

  “Father! It’s good to see you.”

  “As it is to see you, my boy,” Jasper Hopwood said. “I’ve missed you.”

  Emotion shone in Sam’s eyes. “I’ve missed you too.”

  “Where’ve you been all this time? And what brings you back to us now?”

  Sam glanced at Max and Terra and then back to his father. “You know where I’ve been. Lord Mespar exiled me, remember?”

  His father waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that! It was just a mistake. Lord Mespar didn’t mean it!”

  “What?” Sam said. “Then why did his men arrest me when they found me near the city? Why did they tie me up and beat me bloody? If not for Max I’d be dead!”

  Jasper Hopwood’s eyes flicked to Max and Terra. “You were always easily led, my boy. It seems that hasn’t changed in the time you’ve been away. That ends now!”

  Something lashed out and Max felt his arms press against his sides and his ankles snap together. He tried to move but couldn’t.

  Jasper Hopwood has hit you with: Life Drain. This will leach your stamina and make you unable to move. Cost: 500 mana. Duration: until spell is broken, caster releases spell or caster’s mana is depleted.

  Max glanced at his stats and realized that his stamina had been drained to zero. His arms and legs felt like they were made of lead.

  “Father, what are you doing?” Sam cried.

  “You have been corrupted, my son,” Jasper said. “It is time to end that corruption.”

  Sam looked in horror at his father. His sword suddenly appeared in his hand. “They’re my friends! Let them go!”

  His father held up an admonishing finger. “Put your sword away, my son. You will not need it here.”

  All of a sudden Sam swayed on his feet. He tucked his sword into his belt and a glassy expression began to fill his eyes.

  “Oh, no,” Max whispered.

  The medallion around Jasper Hopwood’s neck had begun to glow a deep purple. The color was reflected in Sam’s eyes. Jasper stepped up to his son and put an arm around him.

  “I’m glad you came back to me, my boy. I’m glad you saw the error of your ways. Lord Mespar will be pleased that you’ve returned to the fold. Our family has, after all, been among his most loyal supporters.”

  “No,” Sam whispered. “I don’t believe you. You would never support a tyrant. You taught me to be fair and just.” Sam’s lips had pulled back into a rictus snarl and each word came out slowly as though with great effort.

  “Just so,” Jasper replied. “What better, cleaner justice than that of a swift death? Your friends’ deaths to be precise.”

  Chapter 8

  Terra thrashed in her bonds. “Traitor!” she shouted. “What have you done with Arlena?”

  Jasper ignored her. He reached into his robes and pulled out a knife. Its blade seemed to be made of glass and it pulsed the same purple color as the medallion around his neck. He held this out to Sam.

  “You will kill these two interlopers, my son. Only then will you find your way back to the true path and rid yourself of their corruption.”

  “Fight it, Sam!” Max shouted. “Resist!”

  “I...I...I...” Sam whispered. “I won’t hurt my friends.”

  But even as he said the words his arm was lifting, his hand reaching out to clasp the knife. Then he was taking slow, tentative steps towards Max and Terra, the knife pulsing in his hand like a beating heart.

  Max examined his stamina. It was still empty. Jasper must be stronger than he looked to keep them incapacitated with Life Drain for this long.

  Why didn’t I put my points into stamina? he asked himself. Idiot.

  He’d made his choice, rolled the dice, and had to live with the consequences. He thought furiously, desperate to use all the points he’d put into Wisdom to think of a way out of this. That purple knife glowed with pure malice. He suspected a stab from that would end him and a little grave marker would be springing up in the Hopwood mansion, his name carved into it. Anger welled in Max. He’d be damned if he’d end it like this, like some trussed up animal waiting to be slaughtered.

  Jasper couldn’t hold Life Drain indefinitely. Sooner or later it would wear off and Max and Terra’s stamina would return and they’d be able to move. All he had to do was keep that knife at bay until then.

  “Sam, listen to me,” Max said, fixing Sam with an imploring stare. “You don’t have to do this. Your father is controlling you but you don’t have to let him. Fight it. Show him you won’t be a puppet. Fight him, Sam!”

  Sam took another faltering step towards them. “You’re the enemy,” he intoned. “You must die.”

  “We’re not your enemy!” Max cried. “We’re your friends. Try to remember. Remember the clearing where I found you. Remember Lord Mespar’s men holding you prisoner. Remember us sneaking into the city. Remember taking me to Nazgar’s shop. Remember almost getting us into a fight with that half-troll.”

  Sam was standing right above them now. “You must die!”

  “Wait! This isn’t you, Sam. You came back here determined to free your people from Lord Mespar. He’s the enemy, remember, not us! He’s controlling you, controlling everything. If you do this, you’ll be playing right into his hands.”

  In the corner of his vision he saw his stamina nudge up a fraction. Jasper’s spell was beginning to wear off. He just needed a little more time.

  “Kill them!” Jasper shouted. There was sweat on his face as he struggled to hold the spell in place. “Kill them now!”

  Sam raised the knife. Max thought desperately, sorting through everything Sam had told him about his family, about his life here in Myrlind, searching for anything that might allow him to break through the miasma of Jasper’s control.

  The knife began to descend, plunging towards Max’s throat.

  “Mara!” Max bellowed.

  The knife stopped in mid-air, inches from Max’s jugular. Sam’s arm quivered with the effort of holding it ther
e.

  “What did you say?” Sam whispered.

  “Mara,” Max replied. “That was your mother’s name wasn’t it? You told me she died. Died for what she believed in—freedom. Would she want you to be doing this? Or would she tell you to fight your father’s control?”

  Sam blinked and the glassy look left his eyes. “My...my...mother?”

  “And what about your friend, Argus? You said you would honor his memory by freeing Myrlind of Lord Mespar! Remember him! Remember what he died for!”

  Sam hesitated, seeming to struggle with himself. Then his gaze slid to the dagger in his hand and his eyes widened in horror. With an almost audible snap the spell broke and Sam whirled on his father. “What did you do to me?”

  Jasper’s face folded into a snarl. “Weakling! You are good for nothing!”

  Max’s stamina suddenly shot up and he felt vitality flowing into his limbs. He and Terra jumped to their feet, drawing weapons.

  “Stay back!” Sam cried. “This is my fight.”

  He advanced on his father. The purple medallion glowed brightly around Jasper’s neck, sending pulses of light towards his son like reaching fingers but the dagger Sam carried pulsed just as brightly, seeming to devour whatever the medallion threw at it.

  “You will obey me!” Jasper cried.

  “I will not!” Sam replied. He advanced on his father, dagger held in one hand.

  Jasper backed away until he was up against the wall. “So now what? You’re going to kill me? Your own father?”

  “No, Father. I’m going to free you.”

  Sam ripped the medallion from his father’s neck and dropped it to the floor along with the dagger. He brought his boot down on them, grinding them into fragments. There was a burst of purple light so bright that Max threw his arm in front of his face. When the light dimmed it revealed the medallion and dagger ground into fragments on the wooden floor and Jasper Hopwood collapsed in a heap.

  “Father!”

  Sam knelt by his father’s side and pressed a hand against his forehead. Jasper’s eyelids fluttered and his eyes opened. He reached up to cup his son’s hand. “You did it,” he whispered in a soft voice. “You freed me.”