It felt like something clicked inside my mind, as if his call to action had flipped a switch inside of me. My grip steadied, my posture straightened. I picked myself up off the wall, battered and bloodied, and leveled my sword at the creatures.
My muscles twitched, propelling me forward into the crowd of flesh-eaters. I swung nevermore in a wide arc, cutting down any that dared get in my way. One struck at my flank, but I spun and parried the blow, removing its hands in the process. Another zombie leaned in to bite, but a quick shift and slash of my blade left its head rolling on the stone floor. I wasn’t acting on thought or even strategy anymore. No, my movements were based on pure instinct, a need to survive, a need to kill. I was losing myself in the battle… I was becoming something else. I was awakening the slayer.
The zombie on the left lurched forward. Instincts kicked in. Parry high, then shift the blade and pierce the eye socket. Remove the blade and swing to the left. Strike the soft part of the skull then push through and impale the creature behind it. Two approaching from behind. Turn, double-strike, then use your momentum to lunge forward and down a third.
My movements were precise and deadly, skills flowing into one another like a beautiful dance of death. The undead fell to the ground in lifeless heaps as I made my way through the chamber. I was showered in congealed blood and experience points, though I hardly noticed either. I could only focus on one thing… the thrill of the battle, the kill.
My HP bar that rounded my vision was barely visible. Still, the horde continued to come. If I continued to fight, I’d surely join the dead.
I turned towards the exit and shoved my sword forward, piercing the midsection of two zombies. As they fell, one of the defiled creatures latched onto nevermore and ripped it from my grasp. I reached to summon the blade back to my hand, but the other zombies arrived too quickly. One of them latched on to my back, then another. They pressed their weight into me and forced me to a knee. More began to pile on. My muscles ached, my health bar blinked precariously low…
“NO!” I yelled, my voice savage and raw. I forced myself up, throwing the zombies to the ground as more made their approach. The thrill of battle coursed through me. I wanted to slay them all. Unfortunately, that would mean my death. Instead, I channeled that energy, focusing it inward. I looked to Keldon on the other side of the gate, marking him with my slayer’s mark. Then, using everything I had left in me… I shadowshifted.
Keldon seemed honestly surprised as I phased out of the chamber and appeared behind him, a bloody and beaten mess. What likely surprised him even more was my perfectly placed fist that came soaring at his face.
I was certain it was the best punch I’d ever thrown, landing flush on his cheek and knocking him back a few feet. He looked at me, his stupid grin replaced with a look of utter shock. Damn, had his eyes gone wide!
It was my turn to grin now, face caked in blood, armor torn and in shambles. I put my hand out, summoning nevermore… not to fight with, but to use as a support to hold me up.
Regardless of the blade, I began to fall. The sword slipped from my bloody grasp. My knees buckled as the thrill of battle began to fade. I hit the floor with a resounding thud, indicators blinking in my field of vision, warning me of my impending death. Acting on those would’ve been a wise decision, but I had absolutely nothing left… I’d left it all back in that chamber amongst the piles of the dead. Instead, I laid there on the cold stone of the tunnel and let everything fade to black.
19
Adam….
I was trapped in an endless see of darkness, a hollowness devoid of anything but my own thoughts… the inner recesses of my mind. A voice echoed through, distant yet familiar, pulling me towards reality.
Adam…
It was calling to me, I was sure of it, but that didn’t make any sense. I wasn’t Adam, I was Zander Darkblade, slayer of Aetheria! Still… that named sounded so familiar.
The darkness began to fade as a small bastion of light began to illuminate in the distance. I floated towards it, reaching for its warmth, for the source of that voice…
My eyelids slowly peeled open, though I winced from the bright light dangling above my head. I strained myself until my vision finally cleared…. What the hell was going on?!
My body, once layered in muscle, was now malnourished and frail, carefully laid out in a bed barely large enough to contain me. My surroundings were no longer a chamber filled with torchlight, but rather a small room with chipped paint and posters on the wall… I recognized this place. This was my room!
I felt a hand latch onto my arm, making me nearly jump out of my skin. I turned my head to the left where two men stood at my bedside. One of the men I’d never seen before, a stout man with spectacles and a lab coat. The other man… well, I’d seen his face plenty of times. Tall, unshaven, and with eyes full of loss… eyes that had tears in them. That was my father!
Memories flooded my mind. Adam… that, that was me. It was the name my father was yelling, seemingly hysterical at the sight of my movement. I tried to open my mouth, tried to say something but couldn’t. Pressure built in my chest, immobilizing me, taking my breath away. The dull pain that once lingered in my head flared to life with a vengeance, forcing me to clench my teeth so hard that I was certain one of them broke.
The man in the lab coat wore a look of grave concern. He reached for something on the floor, something metallic… my soulink headset!
“What’re you doing?!” I heard my father protest.
“He’s going into cardiac arrest!” the man responded. “We need to send him back in! I knew it was a bad idea to try and take him out!” The man turned my head as he began to slide the soulink back on. Though I couldn’t see him anymore, I could hear a soft weeping coming from my father… he was devastated.
Through the agony and pain, I noticed something quite peculiar. To my right sat another soul link headset, idly resting on an empty chair. If that wasn’t mine, then… Max. Oh god, where was he?
Suddenly, my vision darkened as the man slid my headset over my eyes. First my senses faded, then the pain dulled as I slipped back into darkness.
><><
“Zander? Zander are you ok?” A female voice rang through my ears this time, drawing me back to the light.
The pain in my body faded as I opened my eyes and was welcomed by Hilda’s concerned smile. She knelt down beside me, her blonde hair tickling at my face as she shifted to meet my gaze.
“Zander… are you with us?”
I smiled back at her. “I think so.”
She leaned down and wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her soft skin against my own. It was the first time I’d seen her without armor, instead dressed in a simple black tunic with tan trousers and a red sash. It surprised me how fragile she looked not covered in layers of plate mail.
“I thought you were dead.” She said, still latched onto my neck.
“Yeah, so did I.” Eventually she released her hold and helped me rise to a sitting position. Oddly, it caught me by surprise to find myself back in the muscled body of a slayer…. And oh, how good it felt.
I sprang to my feet, flexing my muscles then stretching my arms in a wide arc. This form felt strong, felt natural…more so than my old body ever did. I reached out and summoned nevermore into my grasp. It felt comforting to hold the blade after such an ordeal.
“Careful with that thing, kid. I’ve seen what you can do with it.” I made a quick turn and locked eyes with Keldon who stood nearby, leisurely leaning against a weapon rack made of iron. That grin of his had returned, though it was accompanied by a small cut on his lip, compliments of my fist.
“I should be using it on you.” I replied, before dropping the weapon as it dissipated into smoke.
“And why would you do that? Not only did I teach you something new, but I even took the liberty of patching you up afterwards.”
After my out of body experience, I’d nearly forgotten about the damage I’d taken form the undead. I gav
e myself a look over but couldn’t find a single wound to speak of. My health bar was even replenished and glowed a dim red…. The affliction was gone.
“How…” I started to say, but Keldon merely nodded to one of his storm scavengers, a spindly man in loose brown robes.
Armstahd
Cleric
Lvl: 14
“Thank you.” I said, but the man waved me off and walked out of the large stone chamber.
Keldon chuckled. “He’s not much for words…. Though perhaps we should share some words after you are more… presentable.” I followed his gaze down to my nearly naked body, save for a tattered cloak that hung tied around my waist. My cheeks reddened as Hilda let out a raucous laugh.
I turned to say something, then noticed a second voice enjoying my discomfort. Razyr sat there, perched on a large wooden barrel, leaning back on his tail as he let out a series of playful growls. I glared at him, though it did little to stop his laughter.
Laughed at by the creature that’s bonded to my very being…. Damn familiars.
><><
After forcing me to suffer through a short stint of embarrassment, Keldon lent me some black trousers and an old shirt his men had picked up on a scavenging run. My armor had met its unfortunate end in the battle with the zombies, leaving me only with my cloak of the raven that had survived due to its magical properties.
Once I was dressed, Keldon led Hilda, Razyr and I out of the main chamber and into a passage that led directly to the city. It was during that stroll that I finally noticed the small indicator blinking in my field of vision. I focused on it, pulling up the notifications.
Congratulations
You have reached Lvl 11
Congratulations
You have unlocked an elite skill: Shadowshift
(You may only have 1 elite skill equipped at a time)
I reveled in my own joy as we walked. Keldon had put me through hell, but perhaps it was worth it.
That joy faded quickly as I thought back to the experience I’d just had in my body. Was I dying? And what had happened to Max? I quickly opened my friends list and breathed a sigh of relief.
Maximus
Lvl 10 Guardian
He was alive, but where the hell was his body? There were so many questions swirling through my mind, things that had nearly been forgotten as the game’s immersion took hold. I definitely wanted to speak with Hilda about all of this… perhaps later, when things were a bit more private.
It wasn’t long before we reached a small rope ladder that took us up into a back alley of the city. Carefully, we emerged from the alley into Stormgard… and what a marvelous sight it was. Massive towers illuminated by bright blue energy reached towards the heavens. Hundreds of people lined the finely cobbled streets, trading wares, seeking out quests, or just exploring the cityscape. I could even spot a friendly duel going down in the city’s market, though a group of heavily armored guards quickly rushed over to break it up.
“Let’s get you some armor.” Keldon said, leading me towards the market. “I am the reason your old suit got destroyed, after all.”
I turned to Hilda, who started walking in the opposite direction. “I’m going to track down Helena…. she’s been up here for hours searching for some damned demon horn.”
Of course, she was.
As Keldon and I walked towards the market, his face slowly changed to one of concern. Finally, he paused, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve been speaking with your friends, Zander. They told me of your plans to slay Vazryn… of your affiliation with ravenflight.”
I nodded, though the look on his face was making me reluctant to divulge anything else.
“Listen, kid… I can’t thank you enough for breaking me out of that place. Just… be careful. I don’t know what kind of vendetta you have with the lord of Aetheria, but going after him might be more dangerous then slaying a dragon…” he grinned, “and that’s coming from someone who’s slain a dragon.”
“I understand, but it’s something I have to do.” Conflicting thoughts rose in me as soon as I said it. I thought back to that frail body of mine, to that worthless life I led. I didn’t miss that at all. But the sound of my father weeping at my bedside… that hurt like hell.
“Like I said kid, be careful. And don’t get yourself in too deep with the ravens. They may be one of Aetheria’s four great guilds, but they’re usually the ones you’ll find hiding in all the dark corners of the realms.”
“And you’ve seen it firsthand?” I shot back. After all, Wesley and the ravens had done nothing but help me, including awarding me with my awesome blade.
Keldon nodded, then solemnly pulled up his sleeve, revealing a small raven insignia on his arm distorted by a large slash through the middle. “Trust me, I know.”
As he yanked his sleeve back down, a group of tall men wrapped in dark blue cloaks approached us, their faces concealed in the shadows of their hoods.
“Can I… help you?” Keldon asked, eyeing them with speculation. One of the men lifted his sleeve, revealing a writhing tentacle in place of his right hand. “I see strength in you. Perhaps I can interest you in a greater strength, if only you’ll join the kraken.” The man shifted his hood, revealing a face that was partially covered in material that closely resembled barnacles.
Keldon grimaced before brushing away his own cloak to reveal a pair of fine daggers. “Get the hell away from me you filthy tidecallers.” Eyeing the weapons, the men backed away before disappearing into the sea of people.
Keldon dropped his cloak and continued on. “If you ask me, none of the four great guilds are worth a damn. The only people that were worth anything in this world were the azure wardens, and they’re all dead.”
“They will return.” Razyr said from my shoulder, breaking his silence.
Kel scowled. “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
We made our way towards the center of the market before taking a quick right and heading towards a large building at the rear. It was quite the spectacle, carved from solid stone and adorned with two large lion statues on either side of the entrance. Above the door, the words ‘Lion’s Den’ were carved directly into the stone, followed by a symbol representing a sword and shield.
Upon entering I noticed a pair of large forges surrounded by several gray-bearded dwarves covered in soot. Above them red-glowing sprites flittered through the air, weaving through steady dwarven hands as they aided in the creation of weapons and armor. They looked like glowing embers with wings, occasionally swooping down and pressing their hot bodies onto unworked steel, heating the alloy until it could be worked into the shape of a sword or an axe.
Eventually, a balding dwarf in dark leather overalls approached us, his face a mess from a mix of sweat and ash. “Kel! Damn good to see yer scrawny ass back in here! Need me to sharpen those kitchen knives of yers?”
Keldon chuckled. “They’re daggers, Orison. And no, I actually need a new set of armor for my friend here. I may have gotten his… ruined.”
Orison grunted, then dug into the pocket of his overalls before pulling out a long roll of measuring tape. He approached, silently taking a number of measurements while mumbling something to himself in dwarvish. He paused, then looked to Kel. “I got somethin’ that just came in... A little fancier than the stuff I sold you afore.”
“You know I have the coin, Orison.” Keldon replied with an eyeroll. The dwarf nodded, then waived us towards the backroom. We walked through a small wooden corridor and into an even smaller room where a solitary chest sat on the floor.
Orison reached for the lid. “Can’t say I made this piece myself. Got it as part of a materials trade to the…elves.”
Keldon grinned. “Is that why your trying to get rid of it so quickly.”
“Perhaps, but I can’t lie… this is a damn nice piece.” Orison peeled off the lid, revealing an entire shimmering set of armor. At first glance it appeared to be plate mail, but further inspection showed that each of th
e interconnecting plates were thin like paper. The armor covered nearly every inch of the body, save for a few slight openings at the joints. The helm was sleek, with a face plate that dropped down to cover the face from danger. I reached down to pick up a piece of the armor and found (to my surprise) that it was light like a feather.
Orison grinned. “Elvish field plate... Lets you move like a rogue and fight like a warrior. I figure it’ll do ya some good if your one of Kel’s types.”
Keldon let out a laugh as he retrieved a small cache of coins from his belt.
“Should be fit and ready for ya.” Orison said, giving me a wink. “Unless ya want me to make some modifications.
I was looking down at the armor, so neither man could see the wide smile that I wore. “Just one thing.” I said as I turned to meet their gazes. “Paint it black.”
><><
Back in his lair, Keldon took a seat on his makeshift throne as his imp familiar Xernes materialized in his palm. The imp wore a pensive look, something not typical of the creature.
“What is it, Xern?”
“That boy….” The imp replied. “There’s something about him…. Something I have not felt since… the wardens walked the realm.”
Keldon sighed. “The wardens are dead. Our gods are dead. The only thing left is this.” Keldon waived his hand over the piles of scavenged gear that laid nearby. Xernes sighed. He could hear the pain and frustration in the man’s voice. Perhaps this was not a good time to argue with him. Instead, he went back to his impish thoughts.
20
Year of Rebirth 0005
It wasn’t long before we were out of Stormgard and back on the open road. Fifteen days… it was all the time we had to make it to the arena city of Airrigar and register for the tournament. Once there I only hoped that we would know exactly what to do.
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