by Jason Cheek
It was one of the most impressive trains that Julie had ever seen as what looked to be hundreds of Poisonous Web Slingers began springing out of the trees. She felt the bile uncontrollably rising in the back of her throat at the sight of the monster’s long hairy legs spreading out like springing face-huggers the size of small ponies. Landing on the ground, the large spiders rushed after the rider with quick insect-like jumps that made her skin crawl while hundreds of Ridge-Spiked Boars came boiling out of the trees behind them. As if that wasn’t bad enough, mixed in with the mass were numerous Black Tipped Large Fossa, Fanged Martens, Silver-Tipped Pumas, and even several Cave Bears. Though disconcerting, Julie wasn’t sure if she should be worried about the monstrous train or not.
“What do you think?” Julie shouted at Apoxsee as she unlimbered her shield and drew her blade to face the charging Nightmare and rider, “Is this all an elaborate illusion or not?”
“Fuck if I know,” Apoxsee screamed back to be heard over the cacophony of bellowing and clicking monsters as he urgently began shooting off Fire Strikes along with his guildmates at the rider charging for them.
There were only seconds for Julie to make a decision. While having a mass of illusions attacking their raid made absolutely no sense, she could see the tactic being used by Jay to sow disorder in his enemy’s ranks to distract them from a surprise attack coming from behind. She decided that none of this could possibly be real as soon as she saw the numerous Fire Strikes from the Dread Pack players and even two Lightning Strikes from her own people do nothing to faze the charging mount or rider that was nearly on top of them. Besides that, this lone rider looked more like something out of a bardic song than a player or NPC.
“Everyone form up and prepare to repel Stealth Attacks coming from the direction of the city,” Julie’s voice cracked like a whip in raid chat as she came to a decision. As the various guild officers around her nodded in silent agreement at the call, Apoxsee added his support to her read of the situation.
“This is all an illusion,” Apoxsee shouted in raid chat, “the real attack will be coming from the direction of the city!”
That seemed to settle the wide-eyed members of both guilds down as the players began forming up into smaller raid groups of twenty players. Though the order went against everything they were seeing, both groups of players had come to rely on their Guild Leaders to make solid calls. Even after all of the shit that had recently gone down, they were getting paid well and had more wins under their belts than losses.
Feeling the ground shaking beneath her booted feet, Julie dismissed the clamoring of her sixth sense at the very visual and present danger thundering down on top of them. Telling herself this was all a trick being played on her senses by The World’s magic. Even though she had no idea how an illusion would actually work in-game, Julie figured it would have to come with realistic vibrations and smells to actually be real enough to trick the senses.
“Once we end their counter attack,” Julie cried out as she thrust her blade into the air overhead, “we’ll charge the main gate!”
““Hoorah!”” all three thousand players shouted back.
Chapter Twenty-Three
(Töten Feinde charging the Chaos Storm and Dread Pack players standing in the field before the main gates to the city of Darom on Lilin’s back.)
Waves of heat pummeled Töten Feinde through the face slit of his helm from Lilin’s every exhale as his summoned mount charged the group of Chaos Storm Alliance officers and Guild Leaders. The Nightmare that he’d imagined for his summoned stead perfectly reflected the fury of his churning soul as he raised the two-handed warhammer back over his shoulder to strike. Though Evil Sandra and Shapo Xela weren’t present, Töten had studied the Chaos Storm Alliance in detail over the last week and knew without a shadow of a doubt that these were the fucktards responsible for ordering the slaughter of everyone in the Clan of Muspelheim and stealing his fortress, Mund-Spilli, away from him just as he’d completed his Nightmare quest.
A savage grin split Töten’s black lips as the Dread Pack’s Fire Strikes washed over him and his Nightmare doing absolutely no damage whatsoever. He could see the confused looks on the players’ anxious faces as the intense flames harmlessly ran down the front of his armor and Lilin’s flanks like water. Those same looks turned to one’s of fear as he shrugged off the two Lightning Strikes that blasted into him next like they were nothing, which only caused even more Fire Strikes to urgently begin raining down on them.
These idiots had no fucking clue as to the can of whoop-ass that he was going to rain down on them shortly, Töten mentally railed.
Between his Oni’s Abyssal Heritage and his Fire Giant’s natural resistances, Töten had complete immunity to any type of fire. If he so desired, he could’ve comfortably bathed in molten lava without any concern of burning his junk, Töten humorlessly gave a mental snort, not that he would actually be clean after such a bath, but then again, that wasn’t the point. Add his Aura of Elemental Protection and the Orc blood-quenched, bronze plate mail armor that he’d crafted and his elemental resistances were through the roof for everything but Frost and Water magic.
In truth, Töten had that natural weakness pretty well covered too with the high-level Elemental Resistance potions that he’d taken prior to his charge. Meaning, that both his Frost and Water Element resistances were now basically zero instead of the minus one hundred they usually were. Not that any of these idiots had any clue as to what his natural weakness were. Nevertheless, he was glad to see that none of the triple A or Roadkill guilds seemed to be present for this battle.
The fuck were these idiots even doing, Töten silently wondered, when he saw the entire army of players start forming up for battle as Lilin hit the twenty-yard mark to their lines. It was almost as if these idiots didn’t think he was actually here! They weren’t forming up to meet his charge head-on or preparing to defend against the overwhelming train of death that was nearly on top of them. No, these fucking guys were preparing to repel an attack from the direction of Darom. That’s when it hit him. They must have figured out the defenders had been tricking them this entire time with illusions and thought that this was just more of the same.
Boy were these fools in for a nasty surprise, Töten savagely thought, as he felt Lilin’s flanks expand as she sucked in a lungful of air. There was no time to consider the issue further as the Nightmare expelled dual jets of Abyssal Flames right into the faces of the nearest Chaos Storm players and plowed into the formation like an out-of-control freight train slamming into a flock of sheep that had wandered onto the tracks. Magic shields failed ahead of Töten with brilliant sparks from the Abyssal Flame seconds before the bodies of those players that weren’t immediately trampled under the Nightmare’s burning hooves were sent flying through the air into their friends.
Hearing the screams of their guildmates over the angry whinnying of the Nightmare, the entire raid whirled around in utter shock as they realized he was real. Talk about creating a chaos storm, Töten thought, smirking at his own morbid humor as the fucking bitch that was responsible for ordering the slaughter of his people looked up at him dumbfounded. Bitch had the dumbest look on her face too, he thought, screenshotting the moment with a bark of laughter.
In that same instant, Töten also saw Apoxsee, the man that he’d come to hate from watching the horrors that had been inflicted upon the people of Darom, standing just a few yards away from her. With a mental command, he sent Lilin barreling in-between the two of them as he saw, in that split-second, the realization of horror appearing in both of their eyes as to what all of this meant for their guilds. If he was real, then so too was the train of monsters chasing after him.
“Death’s come calling!” Töten bellowed at the top of his lungs as his two-handed warhammer slammed into Cristiane’s pretty face. At the same exact time, he brought his solid bronze Demon-Headed Shield up to block the attack he expected from Apoxsee.
There was no resistance to his warh
ammer’s strike as the Chaos Storm Guild Leader’s head was completely pulverized from the immense blow. Not that it was any particular surprise to Töten since he’d done similar attacks since he’d been an Alpha tester. Nor did he have to look back to know that the headless body was effectively dead as it slowly crumpled to the ground. One-shot kills were possible if carried out correctly by a high-enough level player completely destroying something that was essential to the continued life of the body, aka Cristiane’s entire head in this case, which couldn’t be simply restored with a heal.
Töten’s true concern was the lack of the expected impact against his heavy shield from Apoxsee's two-handed sword he'd been braced for. After watching the man’s previous fights, he’d expected the DPS Warrior to do one of his signature leaping-attack moves. That is, if the man had been able to react in the split-second that he'd had to realize what was truly going down. Töten hadn’t kept an eye on the Dread Pack Guild Leader since his primary target was Cristiane’s evil little shit stain self, when he suddenly felt Lilin lurch beneath him as the Nightmare let out a whinnying cry of agony.
“Motherfucking asshole!” Töten swore as Lilin careened into the backs of the stunned PKers still facing the city of Darom.
Töten immediately understood what had happened. Apoxsee must have went low instead of high and managed to slice through the Nightmare’s front leg when they’d flown past the pair. It was a smart move if he did say so himself. Not that he liked it in the least. Instead of trying to attack Töten directly, the DPS Warrior had hurt him much worse by taking away his best chance of escape from the trailing horde of monsters and, for that matter, the Chaos Storm Alliance players that were currently surrounding him.
Through their shared link, Töten felt Lilin’s anguish as the Nightmare did her best to regain her balance and stride. The problem was that they were moving too fast for her to keep up with only three legs. As they uncontrollably hurtled through the armored mass, Lilin used the body impacts to slow down and stabilize herself on her three remaining good legs as they careened through the PKers like a wrecking ball.
It was complete chaos as the Nightmare began trampling over everyone in her path with her fiery hooves. Another double blast of Abyssal Flames from Lilin’s flaring nostrils ripped away the nearest PKers magic shields as the Nightmare’s acid-like blood sprayed out over the packed players in their path. And if that wasn’t disrupting enough for their enemies, Lilin’s burning body was hot enough to sear the skin from anyone who touched her as players fell over themselves trying to get out of their way.
That left Töten free to inflict as much damage as possible. Like an industrial pile-driver, his two-handed warhammer lashed out to devastating effect as he crushed heads right and left. At the same time, he wielded the edge of his Demon-Headed Shield like an off-hand blade in the tightly packed mass of bodies. With his immense Strength, he shattered teeth and hammered gashes in necks, knowing in the back of his mind that if it weren’t for the intense heat of Lilin’s fiery presence that things would’ve gone very differently.
In a flash, the press of bodies around Töten disappeared as Lilin burst free from the mass of PKers. Though, the elation that flared through their shared link was short lived as the Nightmare dangerously lurched from side-to-side trying to stay on her hooves. Töten tried to assist by acting as a counterweight to her missing front leg but it was of no use. Five steps later, Lilin went down hard with a shrieking whinnying cry, plowing a steaming furrow in the frozen ground as he was flung from her back.
Sliding to a clanking stop on his stomach, Töten ignored the pain racking his body from the hard impact as he quickly climbed to his full eight-foot-tall height. A feat made immensely more difficult in full plate mail armor even as he used the base of his large shield and the butt of his two-handed warhammer to assist in the process. Whirling around ready to fight, Töten’s stomach clenched at the sight of Lilin whickering in agony from where she lay with her sizzling blood pooling on the ground around her only a few yards away from the mass of the Chaos Storm Alliance players charging after them.
‘Expunge me,’ Lilin’s mental cry echoed in Töten’s throbbing head as his face hardened in cold rage under his helm, ‘Let my death serve you!’
They both knew the score. Lilin needed a full hour to heal from such a major wound. Normally, Töten would’ve just dismissed the Nightmare and been done with it in a situation like this, but with so much on the line and the fight moving into the streets of Darom, there was no reason not to use her unique attack of last resort. While it would make Lilin unavailable for the next twelve hours, in all honesty, Töten didn’t see that as being a major problem. What would screw him was getting caught in this mess outside of the city’s walls.
Nonetheless, Töten was stunned by the intense link that had formed between the two of them in the short time they’d been together. That, and how much it hurt his heart to leave the Nightmare to her chosen fate. From his past experience as an Alpha and again as a Beta tester, he knew that such links were possible over time, but this time around, he found himself living his past experiences like never before. Töten didn’t know if that was because he’d been officially hired to test the effects of long-term immersion for the physically disabled or because of his slowly changing perspective from spending so much time living in this virtual world. Either way, he was slowly having problems not looking at The World and those in it as being real. With an enraged snarl, he accepted Lilin’s sacrifice.
‘Do it,’ Töten sent as those tumultuous thoughts flashed through his mind.
Turning around, Töten fled for the main gates just as the lead PKers caught up to the injured Nightmare. His chest ached at the sounds of Lilin’s pained whinnying as the PKers’ blades struck at her exposed flanks. Without it being said, he knew what she was doing. As the sizzling meaty thuds of the Nightmare being hacked to death grew in intensity, Töten sent a heartfelt “Thank you” to Lilin a split-second before her body erupted.
“That’s going to leave a mark,” Töten grimly muttered in satisfaction, feeling the intensity of the Abyssal Explosion hit his back as all the players within a five-yard swath around the downed Nightmare were blown off their feet. Looking back over his shoulder, he was surprised to see that anyone standing within ten-yards of his summoned mount had been pelted hard enough by bone-shard shrapnel and acid-blood to have their magic shields completely ripped away.
Well damn, maybe Lilin did have the right of it, Töten silently thought as he raced for the main gate a hundred and twenty yards away, having a Level 50 Nightmare explode in your face was obviously no joke.
Sadly, Töten knew that even with Lilin’s sacrifice that it was doubtful that he was going to make it to the safety of Darom. Tucking the immense Bronze Demon-Headed Shield and two-handed warhammer tight against his sides, he ran for his life across the frozen field. That was the biggest problem with being so big, Töten silently mused as his lungs sucked in air like a smithy’s bellows, you ran slow as shit.
If he could survive long enough to get close to the main gate, Töten realized that he just might have a chance to escape with only a few respawns. It just depended on how much he was forced to fight and how many monsters from the train made it through the enemy’s lines. Well, that was until he glanced over his shoulder at the ridiculous mass of pissed off PKers and monsters chasing after him. Shaking his head incredulously at the sight, he realized right then and there that there was no outrunning this shit.
“Best train ever,” Töten said out loud, chuckling in spite of himself as he cracked his neck.
Shifting his hand lower on the shaft of the two-handed warhammer at his side, Töten reached for the rage that he normally kept bottled-up deep down in his soul from the injustices that he’d endured throughout his short life. It was time to stoke Fury's Furnace. He remembered the senseless accident that had wrecked his fit body and stolen his future. His newlywed wife that had chosen divorce instead of being attached to a penniless cripp
le for the rest of her life. The insurance company that had cheated him out of the money that he’d deserved and the continuously denied surgery by his insurance that would allow him to live a somewhat more pain free life. Most especially, the PKing fucktards that were doing their best to wreck the one thing in his life that was going right.
It was time to see just how effective his Primordial Aspect was at keeping him alive, Töten furiously thought, as a red haze began falling over his vision. Hearing the hurried footsteps on the frozen ground behind him, he whirled around with a bellow of rage to smash in a Rogue’s face that was leaping at his back for a Sneak Attack and two of her guildmates that were directly behind her. As the three players were bashed threw their air, a horizontal backswing of Töten’s warhammer crushed another player’s chest. The immense blow blasted the man’s broken body into the four guildmates next to him, sending the entire group tumbling head over heels.
While none of the PKers that he’d hit were killed or even seriously injured from the sweeping blows, Töten knew that the fucktards at least knew that they’d been hit, especially as another horizontal strike blasted another swath of PKers off their feet. As sparkling flurries from ruptured magic shields and splatters of blood filled the air around him, Töten stoically weathered the oncoming wave of blades whaling at his heavy bronze armor even as some of the blades managed to pierce his thick skin. A lone warrior standing against a storm of assholes as his warhammer, Last Rites, sung its dirge of death and mayhem.
