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

by E K Baxter

  “How can you speak to Lord Mespar like that?”

  “He’s our savior!”

  “It’s you who are the traitors!”

  “Let me at them, I’ll kill the traitors where they stand!”

  Max couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw Lord Mespar smile.

  That’s how he’s controlling the townsfolk, Max realized. Exactly like he did with Sam’s father.

  But what could Max do about it?

  Kalrick held his arms up for silence once more. “It’s time for the traitors to die!”

  The mercenaries herded Max and the others forward until they stood on a trapdoor. A noose was placed around each of their necks. The heavy rope felt coarse against Max’s skin. Sweat sprung up on his brow.

  No, he thought. I’m not going to die here. How do I get out of this?

  He didn’t have enough strength to break his bonds and he couldn’t equip his weapons whilst his hands were bound and he doubted they’d do him much good anyway. Not for the first time he cursed himself for a fool over where he’d chosen to place his stat points. He should have listened to Sam and put his points into strength or agility instead of going for Wisdom in the hopes of building up his magic. Where had that wisdom got him now? He hadn’t been able to devise a plan to get them out of this.

  Some leader I am, he thought morosely. Then he paused. Leader. That was it. How had he always won in the past? By working with others. That’s what he had to do now. That was the way out of this. He tested his magic and found that he was still bound by Kalrick’s spell. He still couldn’t cast Stealth.

  At least not on himself.

  A germ of an idea began to form, Max thought back to the details of Kalrick’s spell. Magic users are unable to use spells on themselves or against the caster.

  The wording left a little bit of wriggle room. Kalrick had assumed that Max would try to save himself. He’d always been a ruthless competitor—you had to be if you wanted to win a Corporation tournament—and he’d always looked out for number one. Kalrick assumed Max was still like that. He hadn’t counted on him putting his friends first.

  “Lord Mespar! Kalrick!” he shouted. “I’m the True Worlder and I challenge you! I will free this world from your tyranny!” He didn’t know where the words came from. They just bubbled up from inside him but they felt right. “And I’ll start by freeing this town! You think you’ve beaten us? Never!” He caught Sam’s eye and winked. “See?”

  Then he cast Stealth—but not at himself. He cast it over Sam. Kalrick’s spell didn’t hamper him this time and Sam suddenly popped out of existence.

  The crowd started shouting and Kalrick’s eyes bulged. “Where is he? Where did he go?”

  A guard suddenly doubled over as though something had punched him in the stomach. One of his knives magically levitated from its sheath and then disappeared—into Sam’s hand no doubt. Something suddenly sliced through Max’s bonds then through Arlena and Terra’s in quick succession. They yanked the nooses from around their necks and pulled weapons.

  “Keep them away!” Max shouted to his friends. “I need space and as much time as you can give me!”

  Kalrick’s mercenaries came charging but Arlena and Terra met them head-on, weapons whirling, aiming kicks and punches at the enemy and keeping them from reaching Max. Sam made the most of his invisibility and began killing guards before they even realized he was there.

  Max knew he had only moments. He guessed Kalrick’s own mana was depleted from Petrification that he’d cast on them but that wouldn’t last. The second Kalrick’s mana was restored he would cast another spell and then Max and his friends were finished. Max worked quickly.

  He equipped his bow, nocked an arrow, imbued it, and aimed, not at Kalrick or the mercenaries, but at Lord Mespar where he watched from his balcony.

  The distance was great, the furthest he’d ever shot, and would stretch the very limits of his skill with a bow, but his skills had been gradually increasing and he knew he could pull this off. Or he hoped so, at least. If he was off by even the barest fraction he would miss and the opportunity would be lost. On the edges of his perception he could hear the battle raging: the clash of weapons, the grunt and growl of his friends as they fought desperately to give him the time he needed, Kalrick swearing and snarling, as he fought to get to Max.

  He pushed it all from his mind as he sighted along the arrow. There was only him and the arrow. Him and the arrow. He slowed his breathing, squinted along the arrow’s length, felt the fletching brush his cheek.

  Then let fly.

  The arrow sped like a bullet. It struck Lord Mespar straight in the chest. He staggered back a pace but otherwise appeared uninjured. But that hadn’t been Max’s goal. He knew Lord Mespar was too high level to be injured by an arrow. Lord Mespar hadn’t been Max’s target at all.

  The jewel around his neck had.

  The arrow had pierced it straight through, cleaving it in half so now only one half dangled from around Lord Mespar’s neck, the other half shattering on the floor of the balcony.

  There was an eruption of purple light and a shockwave exploded outwards, knocking everyone flat. Max was thrown onto his back on the hard planks of the platform, smelling his hair and eyebrows begin to singe as the wave passed through.

  When it had gone he picked himself up and spun towards Lord Mespar’s balcony. It was empty, the door swinging slightly in the breeze. Max’s friends climbed to their feet, looking slightly dazed. Lord Mespar’s mercenaries were doing the same.

  “Kill them!” Kalrick wheezed. He was on one knee, supporting himself with a fist against the platform. He looked woozy but still managed to glare at Max with undisguised hatred. “Kill them now!”

  The mercenaries drew weapons and stepped forward but a sudden muttering in the crowd made them pause. The townsfolk, picking themselves off the ground, blinked as though waking from a long sleep. Many of them turned to their comrades with confused looks, rubbing their eyes and shaking their heads as though to dislodge the clinging threads of a dream.

  Then an old woman stepped forward and pointed a bony finger at Kalrick. “You were controlling us!” she screamed. “You made us your slaves!”

  “Yes,” a man yelled beside her. “I remember. I did things, said things, because of a compulsion I had no control over. By the gods, what have they done to us? What are we even doing here?”

  “We’re free now,” another woman shouted. “Let’s show these bastards that the people of Myrlind are not slaves!”

  The angry muttering broke into shouts of defiance. A look of fear flashed across Kalrick’s face.

  “You will stay where you are!” he bellowed at the crowd. “Lord Mespar demands it!”

  “Oh, and where is Lord Mespar now?” someone shouted. “Fled! Because he’s too much of a coward to face us!”

  The crowd surged forward and Kalrick and the mercenaries turned to meet them. A roar filled the air—so different to the silence that had permeated the city when Max had first arrived. It was the roar of freedom.

  Quest: Free Myrlind completed.

  Congratulations! The spell with which Lord Mespar controlled the townspeople has been broken. They are now free, thanks to you. You’re a hero!

  x4 Level Up! Level 19

  You have earned four 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!

  Max quickly threw his stat points into Wisdom [16] and then cleared the message. They had to get out of here.

  “This way!” Arlena shouted. She pulled on a lever and one of the trapdoors below the nooses opened with a creak. “Inside, all of you.”

  Sam jumped into the hole, quickly followed by Terra. Max went next. He landed on something soft and rolled away, giving Arlena room to jump through. Max stood and found himself in a small chamber beneath the gallows. The stink of rotting flesh assail
ed his nostrils, so strong he had to fight the urge to gag. He looked around and realized to his horror that they were surrounded by dead bodies in various stages of decomposition. The soft thing he’d landed on was a pile of corpses, skin pale and waxy, lips pulled back in the rictus snarl of death.

  Max’s innards heaved and he staggered, splattering the contents of his stomach all over the floor.

  “Dear gods,” Sam whispered, peering around with his hand over his mouth. “What happened here?”

  “Lord Mespar happened here,” Terra growled. Her eyes shone with tears and she had her swords in her hands. “Now we know why there were no other prisoners in the cells.”

  Max wiped his hand over his mouth and straightened. “We will kill him. We can’t let this go unavenged.”

  He looked around and saw the dead eyes of men, women, and even some children staring back at him. What kind of a world was this that the developers were creating? Some of the elements of this game were a lawsuit waiting to happen. What player wanted to see the piled-up bodies of women and children? Max would sure as hell tell them what he thought when he finally met the developers face-to-face.

  He met the eyes of his companions one at a time. “We end this. Who’s with me?”

  Sam nodded and stepped forward. “I’ve been with you since the beginning. That’s not changed.”

  “And I,” said Terra.

  “Count me in,” Arlena growled. “I’ll see Lord Mespar’s head on a spike for this.”

  “Good.” Max held out his hand and the others placed theirs on top. “To the end?”

  “To the end,” they all said.

  You have strengthened the skill: leadership. These people would follow you anywhere. 500 XP into Charisma. This is now level 5.

  Max shrugged. Sure, the points were nice but they no longer satisfied Max like they used to. He’d learned the hard way there were more important things than that.

  “Lord Mespar disappeared as soon as you freed the townsfolk,” Terra said. “How do we figure out where he’s gone?”

  Max remembered the map he’d found on the body of the guard in the jail. They’d been interrupted by Kalrick and his cronies before they’d had a proper inspection. He selected it from his inventory and opened it. The others crowded around.

  In elegant script across the top were written the words. The Ancient Catacombs of Myrlind and the site of the Devil’s Gate.

  “Well,” Max said. “Looks like we’ve got a pretty good idea where Lord Mespar might have gone.”

  Chapter 12

  “The catacombs?” Sam said, his voice quavering. “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t worry,” Max said. “What can be down there that’s worse than what we’ve faced already?”

  “Are you serious?” Sam said. “I’m not even going to answer that question!”

  A heavy thump sounded above them and a shower of dust came raining down. The rumble of fighting echoed from above.

  “We need to get out of here before Kalrick figures out where we’ve gone and comes after us. Anyone know where the entrance to the catacombs is?”

  “In the cemetery at the edge of the city,” Arlena replied. “If we hurry, we can be there in less than an hour.”

  Another thud sounded above as though a body had just been thrown onto the platform.

  “Right. Lead the way.”

  Max and Sam cast off their stolen uniforms so as not to be mistaken for Mespar’s mercs then they all wove through the piles of bodies to the far side of the chamber where they found a door. It opened into a storage area where piles of crates and barrels were stacked in orderly rows. There was nobody in sight—all the guards were busy with the rioting townsfolk. Max and his friends pelted across the courtyard and through another gate that led out into the palace precinct.

  Here they encountered knots of fighting. It seemed that Max breaking Lord Mespar’s pendant had freed not only those townsfolk in the palace, but everyone else as well, and they weren’t slow in taking out their revenge on their captors.

  Everywhere they looked, townsfolk battled with Lord Mespar’s mercenaries. Max saw two young women taking on a sword-wielding mercenary armed with nothing but their belt knives. They fought ferociously and soon took the man down before searching around for another opponent. A little further on they found a group of mercenaries being held down by a mob of bakery workers. They held rolling pins which they were using to batter the mercenaries, stopping them from using their weapons to any effect.

  Max and the others skirted around these knots of fighting and made their way into the city. The streets were crowded. The townsfolk had left their homes, the taverns, and were beginning to gather on street corners, many of them carrying weapons.

  The townsfolk muttered angrily s they discussed what had happened to them and how they could put it right. It wouldn’t be long, Max thought, before an angry mob was descending on Lord Mespar’s palace.

  But he won’t be there, Max thought. He’s preparing something in the catacombs and I suspect it will be way worse than what he’s already done.

  The four of them ran through the streets as quickly as they could. They got tangled up in a brawl that had spilled out of a tavern but Sam used his shield to keep them safe and they dashed away. They came upon a group of three mercenaries pinning down a young woman whilst one of them tried to rip her dress off but Max, Terra and Arlena stepped up and made short work of the mercenaries.

  The young woman babbled her thanks and Arlena sent her to find some of the resistance captains and tell them of Arlena’s escape. She left instructions that they organize the townsfolk into a cohesive force rather than letting the city descend into chaos. The woman ran off with a promise she would do as Arlena asked.

  The companions made their way steadily east until they eventually turned a corner and saw the cemetery laid out before them. Iron railings ringed it and Max saw countless grave markers and tombstones marching into the distance.

  Sam’s face paled. “You’re sure we have to go in? Maybe we got it wrong. Maybe Lord Mespar’s somewhere else. Somewhere less catacomby.”

  “What’s so scary about a graveyard?” Terra asked. “It’s full of dead people. They can’t harm us.”

  “You reckon?” Sam said, looking totally unconvinced. “So you’re volunteering to go first?”

  “Arlena?” Max asked. “Where’s the entrance to the catacombs?”

  Arlena lifted her chin. “That way. There’s a big mausoleum on the far side where all the ancient lords of the city are buried. The entrance to the catacombs is in there.”

  Max led the way to the gates. The moment he put his hand on the cold metal a message popped up on his UI.

  Quest: Find the entrance to the catacombs. Do you accept? Y/N

  The catacombs are the ancient resting place of the rulers of Myrlind. All the great and good of the province of Theloria are buried here. It was once a place of kings: now it has become home to evil. Your road leads into this dark place. Dare you go on?

  He accepted and they pushed their way through the gate.

  It was quiet beyond. All the hubbub of the city faded away, even the sounds of fighting becoming distant. They crept forward on cat’s paws, not wanting to disturb the peace of the graveyard. A wide gravel path snaked its way from the gates and they kept to this, weapons in hand and wary.

  Max and Arlena led the way and Sam insisted on being in the middle. “It’s always the guy at the back that gets jumped first,” he explained. Terra, rolling her eyes at him, agreed to take up the rear.

  The silence was a little eerie, Max had to admit. At any moment he expected something to come screeching at him: a ghoul or a banshee or something equally nasty. But nothing happened.

  This isn’t so bad, Max thought. Maybe we can find the entrance without anything horrible happening to us.

  As they walked, Max’s thoughts began to drift. He’d not thought about his life in the real world for a long time but now he found his thoughts turning
in that direction. He wondered what was happening back home. He wondered if anyone was missing him. Unlikely. He had nobody in the real world. Nobody at all. He relied only on himself, a lesson he’d learned the hard way through his years on the streets following the death of his mother.

  “Those are morose thoughts for such a young lad,” said a voice.

  Max looked up to see a woman walking by his side. She had long dark hair and eyes that looked like she smiled a lot. Max’s eyes widened suddenly and his breath came out in a gasp.

  “Mom?”

  She laughed. “Of course. Who else were you expecting?”

  “But...but...you’re dead.”

  She laughed again. “Oh, Maxwell, you have such a vivid imagination! Of course I’m not dead, I’m right here.”

  She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch warm and reassuring. A sudden wave of emotion crashed over him. Memories assailed him: his mom driving him to school. His mom waving from the sidelines as he played football. His mom bustling about their little kitchen cooking dinner whilst he sat at the kitchen table doing his homework. It all seemed so normal. So...real.

  “I don’t understand,” he murmured. “What’s going on?” His thoughts felt a little fuzzy. What had he been doing a moment ago? He’d been trying to get somewhere. Hadn’t he?

  “We’re going home,” his mom said. “I’ve made you a surprise. I know you’re going to love it.”

  A white wooden house stood in front of them. It was small, and a little dilapidated, but a wave of happiness swept through him at the sight of it. Home. Of course. That’s what he’d been looking for all along. Wasn’t it?

  They walked through the door and Max’s mom swept him to his customary seat at the kitchen table whilst she pulled something out of the refrigerator. It was a cake.

  “Happy birthday!” she cried, placing the cake on the table in front of him. It was big and covered in chocolate frosting. Ten candles sat on the top.

  “But it’s not my birthday,” Max protested, shaking his head to clear his confusion. “And I’m not ten.”