Viridian Gate Online- Imperial Legion

by J. A. Hunter

  That had to be the biggest benefit of the hive mind: instant communication and perfect control when there was a need. Even the new Regional Messaging ability couldn’t come close to that, as evidenced by the fact that most of the Alliance members were still charging straight ahead, their weapons raised and ready to battle. The problem with PMs was people still needed to check them, and in the heat of battle, that might not happen.

  It looked like I’d have to avert this crisis the ol’-fashioned way—with elbow grease and a giant fire-breathing dragon.

  Circle around and take us higher. The great Shadow Drake, sensing my worry and annoyance, responded without any of his characteristic sass. His wings thrust down, gusts of air pounding at the unnatural flames burning below, then wheeled around. I raised one hand and unleashed a flurry of Umbra Bolts, which streaked through the purple-black sky as bright as a fireworks display. In the dark, it might’ve been tough to see Devil and me, but those Umbra Bolts would do the trick.

  Assuming our players weren’t blind.

  The Umbra Bolts finally fizzled out, and when I glanced back down, I noticed most of the Alliance defenders had ceased their mad dash. Unfortunately, most were not all. One small pocket of warriors, three deep, was still closing in, and they were making a beeline for the Spider Queen. I took a quick scan of the group: the first two were Berserkers—one Dwarven, one Risi—a fact made clear by their chainmail, edged in fur, studded with bits of bone and antler, and covered in angular red script.

  Both were in frenzy mode, which gave them increased strength, attack power, attack damage, and Health and Stamina Regen rates. The drawback was, it also gave them tunnel vision and a temporary reduction to Intelligence, which might explain why they’d failed to notice both the Regional Message and the fancy light display. Truthfully, though, I wasn’t quite so worried about them since Devil’s impromptu firewall was still burning brightly, consuming the grass. They’d never get around it, and I very much doubted they’d be dumb enough to risk charging through it—though I’d seen some pretty wild and reckless moves in V.G.O.

  Heck, I’d made my fair share of wild and reckless moves.

  Get me above that group, I commanded absently, surveying the remaining member of the party. She was no Berserker—not a melee fighter of any sort. She wore swishing robes and carried a gnarled staff topped with a fat, twirling ruby that shone with brilliant radiance. She had to be a mage. Probably a Firebrand like Abby, unless I missed my guess completely. That was unfortunate since a Firebrand could part that flame wall like Moses parting the Red Sea, or, at the very least, rain down spells on the spiderkin from a distance.

  Time to put an end to that.

  Roll and drop, I sent. Then patrol, and make sure no one assaults the spiderkin—if you see anyone do something stupid, you can engage. Just make it quick and clean.

  Happily, Devil replied, his right wing shooting straight out, catching the draft, and hurling us into a blazing-fast corkscrew that left me dangling upside down. Even though I’d performed this same maneuver a hundred times, it never seemed to get any easier or less terrifying. I glanced down and grimaced as the Firebrand raised one hand, a red-hot fireball forming in her outstretched palm. Great. Another thing to worry about. I unhooked my feet from the leather stirrups, released the reins, and dropped like a rock toward the earth just as the mage released a fireball the size of a small car.

  This was fine, I could do this.

  I took two deep, calming breaths and triggered Shadow Stride fifteen feet from the field. The world lurched to a halt as the Shadowverse exploded around me in all of its monochromatic, blurred-edged glory. Thankfully, the flame spell also crept to a stop. The giant ball of burning gas simply hung, unmoving in the air like a small, personal sun.

  Even if the butterflies in my stomach still went mad from the drop, I’d gotten much better at the landing. I turned into the fall, crouching at the knees as I hit. The shock jolted up through the soles of my feet and into my legs—my teeth clacking shut—but I’d angled my fall and immediately glided into a forward roll, which quickly brought me upright. Even falling right hurt a little, but it was far better than belly-flopping onto my face or landing squarely on my back, both of which had happened plenty of times in the past.

  Even with the pain, however, my HP bar didn’t drop by even a fraction of an inch. Since I was inside the Shadowverse, I couldn’t sustain any damage—even natural damage from, say, a really high fall.

  I took a moment to get my breath and survey the landscape.

  Other than the three hard chargers, everyone else had ceased their assault. Now, all I had to do was deflect an enormous fireball and knock some sense into a couple of knuckleheaded Berserkers before they could spark an interspecies war that could potentially cost us one of our most important allies. Easy. I backtracked toward the wall of umbra flame and wedged myself between the Spider Queen and the incoming fireball. I drew my warhammer, ready to fight if it came down to it, then thrust my right hand forward as I prepared for what came next.

  My countdown timer hit zero, and the Shadowverse expelled me like an uninvited guest, booting me back into the Material Plane. The instant it did so, I summoned Dark Shield. A flickering purple dome exploded to life before me just in time. The fireball slammed into the conjured shield like an actual wrecking ball, hitting with enough force to rock me back on my heels, before exploding like a scud missile. Angry orange flames leaked through the magical barrier and rolled up over the edges, scorching my eyebrows and raising painful blisters along my cheekbones.

  A fraction of my HP dropped, but the shield held against the formidable blast. After a few seconds, the roiling orange flames diminished and died altogether, though a ribbon of smoke rose into the sky as a reminder of what had happened. I dismissed my shield, raising my warhammer in warning. I didn’t need to, though. The three Alliance members had finally come to a halt and were staring at me as though seeing an angry poltergeist manifest from thin air. In some ways, that was probably accurate.

  From their perspective, the Firebrand had launched a spell, and then, in less than a blink, I’d appeared and blocked the attack.

  The Firebrand’s hands shot toward her mouth, her eyes wide in fear. “I’m so sor—”

  I raised a hand, cutting short the flurry of apologies. “You all were just doing your job. Thank you. Next time, though, pay closer attention to the things around you.” I cocked an eyebrow at them and gestured at the field. “And make sure you keep a better watch on your Faction Inbox. Now, why don’t you three head over to the tavern and grab a bite to eat on me, then head back to work. I’ll handle things from here.”

  “Of course,” they mumbled, almost as one.

  I offered them one more friendly smile, then turned toward the spider horde. Devil’s conjured Shadow Flame had finally guttered and died, leaving behind a scar of blackened earth two feet wide. I frowned—one more thing for the Arbormancers to patch up.

  “My dearest fly,” the queen buzzed, scuttling forward. “How good it is to see you, and to see your loyalty to me and mine in action. Most impressive. Now, I hope you’ll extend that loyalty because I have a favor to ask of you …”

  NINE_

  Royal Favor

  “Wait just a blasted minute,” Cutter said, scowling at the Spider Queen loitering at the edge of the woods, surrounded by her legion of multilegged minions. “You’re telling me that you scuttle your arse-ugly band of hellspawn into our camp uninvited, nearly kick-start a war, then you want us to do you a bloody favor?”

  Chief Kolle glowered at the thief, his lips pressed into a thin, anxious line. “Talking to allies in such a manner is rude,” he chided, though he also gave the brood a long hard look that said he agreed wholeheartedly with Cutter, rude or not.

  “I’m just saying, this lady must be barkin’ mad,” Cutter muttered under his breath, staring daggers at the spider woman, who’d used her significant magical abilities to shed her bulky, semi-truck sized body in favor
of something a little slimmer and less attention-grabbing. Her terrible, spindly legs were gone, her bloated abdomen had vanished, and her VW-sized head had shrunk to a more manageable size. Now, the Spider Queen looked like something that could almost pass for human. Though only almost.

  This new Lowyth was petite and surprisingly feminine, with long shapely legs, a slim waist, and a heart-shaped face framed by bristly, pixy-cut hair that was an unnatural shade of maroon. Her skin—if it could even be called skin—was still black chitin, covered in swirling, ember-red sigils of power. Her fingers were capped by wicked, curved talons, and though her head was humanoid, her face was still riddled with dull black eyes, which were utterly inhuman and hungry. Most disconcerting of all were the strange appendages jutting from her back like wings, continually curling and uncurling like gnarled, broken fingers.

  “That is exactly what I’m asking, you insect,” Lowyth replied, her voice both smoky and sultry. “I understand the circumstances are less than ideal, but they are what they are. And you would do well to show me proper respect, lest I string you up and drain the life from your body a day at a time, until you are little more than a shriveled husk, begging for death.”

  Her words were a potent reminder that though the Spider Queen had proven herself to be a valuable asset, she was far from human. She was, at her core, a predator. An intelligent monster designed by the Overminds to kill travelers and citizens alike. We could work with her, sure, but it would always be a tenuous dance.

  “That’s enough,” I said, stepping forward and resting my hand on the head of my warhammer—both a threat and promise. “You’re valuable to our cause,” I said coolly, knowing she would only respond to strength, “and this partnership has benefitted both of our peoples, but I won’t allow you to come in here and threaten my people or my officers. As the Jade Lord, I have all the Storme Marsh clans at my disposal, and wiping you off the map wouldn’t be a problem if push comes to shove. Do we understand each other?”

  She grinned, her ruby red lips pulling back to show off a mouth full of pointed, needlelike teeth. “Now there’s the troublesome fly I do so admire.” She stalked forward—her motions jerky as though she were unaccustomed to her human body—until she loomed before me. Slowly, carefully, she stretched out a hand and caressed my cheek with a long claw. Chief Kolle and Cutter instinctively went for their weapons, but I raised my hand and curled it into a fist. Hold.

  Though we’d been working with the spiderkin for over a month, this was the first time most of these people had seen the Spider Queen up close.

  She was unsettling, but I knew this was all a part of her game.

  I canted my head and offered her a cocksure grin. You don’t scare me, that look said. “Now tell me what this is about. We’re busy preparing a trap for our enemies, and we have a lot of work to do.”

  “I do so love traps,” she cooed, her hand dropping away, “and though I would hate taking you away from such worthy work, I have an urgent quest that only you can fulfill.”

  I paused, feeling momentarily thunderstruck. A quest from a dungeon boss? Now that was new. “What’s the quest?” I asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

  “Simple,” she said, her wicked smile growing. “I need you to come with me, deep into the Avilynn Wood, just north of here.”

  “Phft,” Cutter snorted. “Mental, I told you. That sounds like a bloody suicide mission. My boy Jack is smarter than to go off with a bloodthirsty monster—who’s already killed him once, let me remind everyone—into the Avilynn. Idiocy.”

  “Normally, I don’t like to agree with Cutter on principle,” Chief Kolle said, “but this does indeed sound fishy, as your people say.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded and turned back to the queen. “I’m swamped with work and not eager to die a horrible, slow death, so I’ll need a few more details, or it’s a big pass.”

  For the first time, her smile slipped, and a look of deadly seriousness crept over Lowyth’s face. “I cannot tell you more. But you cannot say no, troublesome fly.” She paused and tilted her head to the side. “Please.” She whispered the word as though it were physically painful. “I need your help. My children and I have done much for your cause, Grim Jack. We helped you capture Rowanheath. We have defended your borders. I have given your Spider-riders permanent mounts. All this, and I have asked for little in return. But this is important. Crucial.”

  I dithered, biting on my bottom lip as I thought. I wished Abby were here; she’d know what to do. Yes, theoretically I could help Lowyth, but we were badly behind on time, and with Osmark gaining ground every day, I couldn’t afford to go gallivanting off on some shady personal quest. That wasn’t the responsible thing to do as a faction leader. Unless …

  Unless I could leverage the situation for the good of the faction.

  “I’m not opposed to helping you,” I finally said, reaching up and running a hand over my chin. “But like I said, we need to prepare this town to stop Osmark and the Imperial Legion, and we have a little problem too: we’re short on manpower. Maybe I could go with you, but only if you were willing to leave a bunch of the spiderkin here to help with the workload. And no way am I going alone. I want Cutter, Amara, and Forge to come at a minimum. It’ll only take a minute to get them over here.”

  The smile slowly grew on the Spider Queen’s heart-shaped face once more. “Tricky fly.” She nodded. “Very well, I will leave you all of my formidable escorts if you will accompany me alone on this urgent errand. But it must be only you.”

  “Nope,” Cutter said, stepping between the queen and me, his face oddly calm, one white-knuckled hand wrapped around the hilt of his dagger. “Not on your life is he leaving here without someone to watch his back. Even if you say no, I’m just gonna follow anyway, and you’ll never see me coming.”

  Lowyth solemnly considered his words, tapping one finger against her bottom lip. “Very well,” she finally said with a shrug. “I suppose someone of Grim Jack’s station is entitled to a body servant. I will leave all of my formidable escorts with your people if you and your”—she twirled one hand through the air, searching for the right word—“your butler will accompany me on this urgent errand.”

  “I’m not a butler,” Cutter grumbled under his breath, indignant to his core.

  I snorted and ignored him, focusing instead on the new quest alert, which had popped up in front of me:

  <<<>>>

  Quest Alert: Royal Favor

  The Spider Queen, Lowyth the Immortal Orbweaver, has requested your aid on a secret mission deep in the Avilynn Wood. You and Cutter must accompany her, providing for her safety during your travels.

  Quest Class: Rare, Alliance-Based

  Quest Difficulty: ???

  Success: Accompany Lowyth to an undisclosed location in the Avilynn Wood; Lowyth must survive.

  Failure: Fail to accompany Lowyth to an undisclosed location in the Avilynn Wood; Lowyth dies en route to the location.

  Reward: 25,000 EXP; Blessing of Lowyth: The Crimson Alliance Faction relation with Lowyth the Spider Queen will improve from Neutral to Friendly; your relation with Lowyth the Spider Queen will improve from Friendly to Honored.

  Note: Upon acceptance of this quest, Lowyth will devote all (100) members of her spiderkin entourage to the preparation and defense of Ravenkirk against the Imperial Legion.

  Accept: Yes/No?

  Jack, this is Sophia. Don’t be a moron. Take this quest. It really is quite important!

  <<<>>>

  I thought for sure my eyebrows would climb right off my face as I read the message.

  So not only would we gain one hundred new bodies to help with the preparations, we’d gain a small army of mobs to help beat back the Imperial Legion. How could I possibly say no to that? Moreover, Sophia—the Overmind of Balance and the closest thing I had to a boss—wanted me to take the mission, too. What in the heck was going on here? I wasn’t sure, but I muttered yes, feeling giddy inside. Just an hour ago we’d bee
n looking at an impossible situation, but now we had more than enough manpower and extra defenders.

  Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of mission was important enough that Sophia would directly intervene.

  The quest box disappeared, and when I glanced up, I saw the Spider Queen smiling at me like a … well, like a spider who’d just trapped a fly.

  “Excellent.” She turned toward her brood of multilegged nightmares and opened her mouth wide, impossibly so. But she didn’t speak, not exactly. Instead, a whining screech like the sound of an industrial buzzsaw filled the air, undulating as she chittered on in the native spider tongue. After a handful of seconds, the sound abruptly cut off and the Spider Queen wheeled around, planting hands on hips, radiating smugness and self-satisfaction.

  “Chief Kolle,” she said, fixing the Murk Elf with a steely-eyed gaze, “you are now in command of my dear children. Treat them well. Grim Jack, Grim Jack’s manservant”—she looked at Cutter and me in turns—“it is time for us to leave. Now.” With that she pushed her way past me, heading across the field, straight for the swath of leafy green trees at the far edge of the dale.

  “Come along now, insects,” she said, calling over one shoulder as she walked. “We don’t have all night—this is something of a time-sensitive mission.”

  Cutter grumbled and shot me a suspicious glare before fishing both daggers from his belt and giving them elaborate twirls. A nervous tic. I simply shrugged and took off after the Spider Queen. The deal was done. Now, all that was left to do was follow in her wake.

  Lowyth cut across the lush field with incredible speed, before skirting around the edge of the town and beelining for the Avilynn. She paused at the edge of the trees, waiting patiently for us as her many eyes scanned the night-darkened woods ahead. “Be on guard, skin-sacs,” she hissed. “There is a deadly enemy not far from here, and it will be very unhappy about our meddling.” Then, before I could even ask her to clarify, she was moving again, heading into the woods. I sighed and followed once more, Cutter trailing behind me.