by Andrew Novak
* * *
The Dead Wind had finally drawn up to the hills. Here the river did bend, as promised. It should also take the travelers to the source of the smoke. Now they could clearly hear war cries and the clashing of weapons.
“Sartorius, get ready,” Jack shouted, moving to the foredeck with his drawn sword in his hand. “We should intervene.”
“You sure it’s worth it?” the alpha grumbled, readying his magic staff. “We ought to be looking for the temple. Can we afford distractions along the way?”
“The temple must be somewhere nearby, for sure. Theokrist’s Compass is restless. The figure moves when the boat changes tack. We’re close, if the slightest change in course is reflected that quickly in the Compass. Here, the main thing is to determine which of the fighters are local. It wouldn’t hurt to get a quest from the leader of this area. He’ll surely send us directly to the temple. We’ll do it all by the book, with a task and a reward for completing it.”
The mage nodded. They both stared at the green side of the hill around which the still-nameless river snaked.
The sail billowed overhead, catching a new wind. The schooner emerged from behind the hill. The view of the plain opened before the crew, with plowed fields and fenced pastures in the distance — and in the foreground, right by the river bank, a large village was burning.
Horseback riders rushed into the smoke, drawing their bows and loosing off arrows. The fire had taken in only a few buildings on the outskirts, and all the fighting was happening in the center. The riders were clearly raiders and the locals were fighting on foot.
“Kill the riders,” said Jack. “Well, move it! Wind, moor here. To the shore!”
While the ship was carrying out the order, he appraised the strategies of the two fighting sides. The horsemen rushed into the smoke while the residents took shelter between the buildings in the center, defending the fenced courtyards, but did not risk emerging into the open space where the mounted horses would naturally have the advantage. It made it difficult to see the locals.
As for the attackers, they were in full view: typical savages in light leather armor armed with short spears and bows.
When the Dead Wind came to a stop by the shore, Jack jumped into the waves. A loud splash behind him informed him that Sartorius had followed. Of course, the raiders noticed the new arrivals, and although there were only two, the black schooner commanded respect.
The riders began to group together. It was clear they didn’t know how to deal with such strange guests. Jack located their leader who was shouting orders, waving a spear decorated with a mangy collection of horsetail hair.
Jack stepped toward the riders, pointing his sword in front of him. A cloud of darkness formed around him, seeping from the dark blade. A few arrows whizzed by… Perfect! That meant the mounted bowmen couldn’t see him behind his dark cover.
The senior rider barked an order. The clatter of hooves announced that the cavalry had charged.
“Sartorius!” Jack yelled. “Kill them now!”
He couldn’t see very well through the dark veil he’d created, but his experience told him that his enemies had grouped up close enough to become an excellent target.
The mage had worked it out for himself. Just as Jack called out to him, Sartorius launched a ball of roaring flame at the cavalrymen. He was still inexperienced in necromancy, but he had his fire magic skills. A crashing sound echoed through the air, followed by desperate screams: the sign that the fireball must have landed perfectly.
A blurry shadow formed in the darkness surrounding Jack. He leapt aside, slashing at the first horseman. The black blade cut through all obstacles, sending both rider and the horse to the ground. His spear fell from his hand and pierced the ground nearby.
Jack leapt over the writhing bodies. In front of him, another mounted figure appeared in the gloom.
The rider took a swing with his spear. Jack hopped back, turned and struck back. Another enemy flew out of the saddle, dripping red.
Jack’s cloud of darkness had dissipated due to his sudden movement. Now the riders saw Jack and he could see them. He lunged at the closest enemy, throwing out the Shadow of the King in a long thrust. Pierced by the sword, the unlucky rider screamed wildly. A new series of fireballs flashed through the air nearby.
The riders began to rein in their horses. No wonder: one opponent showered them with deadly fireballs, while the other rushed into the thick of their group and got busy felling everything the blade touched. These savages had never encountered such enemies.
Jack made his way to the leader, dealing out blows left, right and center. A couple of messages flashed before him reporting incoming damage. Still, the injuries were light, so Jack didn’t bother pausing long enough to drink a health elixir.
The locals abandoned their shelters in the center and ran out of the clouds of smoke, swinging their axes. A large, black-bearded man running in the lead roared in a low, thick bass:
“Attack! Attack! Kill the bandits!”
His comrades replied with discordant cries.
Sartorius kept launching fireball after fireball, forcing the savages to scatter and preventing them from huddling together in order to fend off the attacking peasants.
Finally, the raiders’ leader couldn’t withstand the pressure any longer. “Retreat!” he bellowed.
He reared his horse, forcing it to turn around. Jack caught up with him and grabbed at the folds on the back of the man’s leather jacket, pulling him off the horse. The chief crashed into the trampled grassland struggled to get up. Jack slapped him hard on the head with the flat of his sword.
Oh. It looked like the bewitched sword had another property which hadn’t been used before. The Stun debuff! It was so good that the robber crashed to the ground and lay still. His minions retreated much faster than the speed they’d shown during the attack.
The bearded leader of the village stopped in front of Jack.
Elder Mackon, Achaean
Expertise: 40
Health: 40
Despite his title, he looked rather young. He was a strong man, rugged, with a paunch and a square face framed by a black beard. A few gray hairs poked through his hair and beard which reached to the middle of his chest.
“Greetings, wanderers!” the elder said in a gruff voice. “You handled those Lahitte bandits splendidly. We are very grateful to you.”
Sartorius walked up and stood next to Jack, slightly behind him, allowing his friend to handle the negotiations.
Jack nodded. “Always happy to help.”
“Since the Gods left our land, there is no order in it,” Mackon continued, “so the old people say. They also say that the Gods will return someday, and will bring order again. So, to my mind, you two are Gods and you have begun the task of restoring order, starting with my village. It’s a pity that we live so poorly and have no reward worthy of the Gods.”
He turned to his countrymen. “Hey, people! Bow to our saviors! It’s the Gods themselves! They have a lot to do because our land is full of all manner of indecency. They saved us from the Lahittes raiders and now they will continue on their way. They have honorable deeds to perform! Bow properly!”
Sartorius blinked. Jack was also surprised by the strange behavior of the elder before he realized that the man was an Achaean. Their race was known for its frugal nature and dexterity in matters of business. This elder was trying to rid himself of the need to reward the newcomers for their help in the battle.
Jack grinned to Mackon. “Aha, I see the famous Mackon in front of me! You hear, Sartorius? This Achaean is famous throughout Gaerthon, because he is so greedy that he wouldn’t spare a glass of water in the rain. But my friend and I do not want any reward. We love battle, so the pleasure of fighting is reward enough for us. And we are in no hurry. I, for example, want to talk to our captive when he comes to his senses,” Jack gave the unconscious body a boot.
Broch, Lahitte
Expertise: 40
; Health: 35
“Why do you want to talk with him?” Elder Mackon asked with suspicion. “And about what?”
“Well, for example, what kind of entertainment is there to be had? With whom can we fight? Oh, where to get more loot? This Lahitte is certainly well versed in such matters. Maybe he’ll invite us on a campaign against greedy Achaeans, what do you think?”
“It is unseemly,” pouted Mackon. “To collude with Lahitte bandits. Better to accept our gratitude… within reasonable limits.”
“I’ll take it,” Jack nodded. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t ask for much.”
“And if you want exploits,” the bearded Achaean continued, “then this is our request to you: save our village from misfortune. An indescribable monster has risen near here. It doesn’t allow anyone to use the old road. Because of this, we must use the new road, a bad road that goes past the Dead Lake where the spirit of death resides. Our people are suffering from this pestilence. If nothing else, don’t use the road. Well, will you conquer the monster?”
Attention! You receive the quest “Defeat the Monster”.
Reward: Unknown
Accept/Reject
“Where has the monster settled?” Jack inquired. “It’s not in the ruins of an old temple, is it?”
“Precisely, in those very ruins,” the Achaean shook his beard. “You might say, directly within them. And in the temple, there was something else… I don’t know. Those old buildings have long since been abandoned. The new road detours a little from it, but there are still these toxic emissions from the Dead Lake. Deadly, they are, nourishing the Crystal Lily with souls.”
“What kind of Lily?” Sartorius pricked up his ears. He was always drawn to legends written by the old script writers of Alterra.
“A flower, as if carved from the purest rock crystal,” the Achaean began to explain. “Very beautiful. I saw it once, somehow, from afar. But from it comes death. It drinks life. Beautiful, yes. So much that I would like to take it in my hands and admire it. I would forever look at such beauty. Except that it feeds on your life. Even from a distance, it steals your health, and if you touch it… that’s the moment when it finishes you off. The closer, the deadlier. And now, we have such a beauty in our lake. Sometimes the flower blossoms on the surface. The stem is in the water, but the flower stays above it, which means it climbs into the air. It is crystal, transparent, almost invisible in the water. When the light falls on it, it glows beautifully. And breathes death. We would like our old road returned to us. That would be nice.”
Jack pulled out Theokrist’s Compass to determine the direction in which the figure was pointing. The Achaean confirmed that it was there that the old road led. There were ruins by the roadside, guarded by an indescribable monster.
“You see, Sartorius,” Jack turned to his companion, “that’s how it works. The elder is sending us to the temple, which, of course, is dedicated to the Achaean God Zaratos the Wise. The indescribable monster is the boss. In the first temple on Scand island, there were Giants, each with a thousand points of health. The second, the temple of Astra near the village of Lahittes, was guarded by a Hydra, 1500 health. This monster will probably have two thousand health. The stakes are rising!”
Elder Mackon ignored the remark. His script didn’t provide answers to such speeches.
Jack ordered him to guard the prisoner well while the guests dealt with the monster. An interrogation later might prove to be useful.
“We will guard him,” Mackon assured him, “Hey, people! Grab the rogue. And be careful with him. Because it seems to me that he’s a shaman.”
* * *
The day was almost over. The sun was sinking toward the forest on the horizon. Which meant that it was getting dark in the real world. He probably should contact Egghead and schedule a meeting with Juan, Jack thought.
The old road which was supposed to lead to the temple of Zaratos went along a field overgrown with red and yellow tulips. In the rays of the setting sun, it was perfect. The flowers were barely swaying under a light breeze…
“Look, there’s the temple,” Sartorius said.
Jack turned for a look but didn’t see anything. A gray veil blanketed him, filled with spinning shapeless shadows.
Jack twitched but his sense of the world was gone. He fell into space which pressed down on him, preventing him from moving.
Then the veil dissipated. Light hit his eyes. A bitter moisture touched his lips. He blinked and gathered his wits… in real life.
He lay on the floor, with Goodwin fussing anxiously around as he tried to get Jack to drink some of Old Greta’s potion. It trickled down his cheek. Jack forced himself to unclench his jaws and take a couple of sips.
“Stop fussing,” he croaked. “I’m here, it’s okay.”
“Bullshit!” Goodwin was so excited that he spoke out in an unusually rough manner, “If you could see yourself just now! You twitched, you fell…”
“It’s all right, it’ll be over soon. But I do need to play. Sartorius and I are already almost there, he just noticed the temple.”
“You can’t play! No matter who’s with you.”
“I can’t be interrupted right now. The man with me is not just anyone, but an alpha. Not one like you, either, hiding in the ghetto,” Jack tried to smile. However, it wasn’t very convincing, judging by Goodwin’s grimace.
The old man tried to help him stand but Jack was too heavy for him. Jack gathered his strength and managed to get up on his own.
“He’s a real alpha, and is this close to helping me… or rather, us. So, hand over the virt-helm, I’ve got to get back to Alterra.”
“Who’s the alpha? Even if it’s General Eckerhart…”
“Look, Goodwin, either give me a better idea or quit arguing. Sartorius is not a badass alpha like Ruger was, so we’ll do everything in secret. He said he works in communications in New Atrium. That is, he knows all the entry and exit points, including the hidden ones. There’s always a loophole, if you know where to look… Only the last thing remains: to convince Sartorius of this. Now, give me the helmet and start packing up our things. Soon, we might have to leave for New Atrium.”
Having resurrected in the cabin of the Dead Wind, Jack immediately hurried to find Sartorius. He discovered the mage in the village, running to meet him.
“Not a word!” Jack raised his hand, warning the Alpha from his question. “Let’s pretend that nothing happened and start from the place where you noticed the temple.”
The temple stood beyond the flowering field. From a distance, it looked small and wide, with a flat roof. In fact, the building was quite large, but because of its proportions, it seemed squat.
The players stopped, looking at the structure, and missed the dark thing in the middle of the flower meadow. It was something that resembled a boulder, a big rock. It sat there motionlessly among the tulips, until the travelers got within a hundred paces of the temple. Then the dark, shapeless thing stirred, stood, as if it were becoming wider and taller. Finally, it rose fully and wandered towards the players.
“What is that?” asked the mage, peering at the shapeless dark shadow among the colorful blossoms. “I can’t see what it is.”
“It’s the indescribable monster,” Jack said confidently, pulling out his sword.
The dark thing slowly waded through the tulips like a drop of liquid stone. If, of course, you can imagine liquid stone. When it came to the road, Jack saw that it had changed as it walked. What at first resembled a formless boulder, had grown taller and wider, developing a pair of powerful shoulders and long arms with heavy fists.
The head of the unknown monster was small, almost lost on its powerful torso. It moved on two short, stumpy legs. Now that it was near, it was clear that it was very large. It was slightly taller than Jack, but broad, massive and rounded.
Jack stepped forward, raising his black sword.
“Wait,” Sartorius asked, “let me go first.”
The mage thrust his st
aff at the strange creature. “Better hit him from afar.”
“Fire!”
Jack didn’t expect to kill the boss with a couple of fireballs, but it was probably better to first see how this monster reacted to fire. Strange that it moved so slow and wasn’t especially frightening in appearance. In comparison with the Giants and Hydra, it was certainly inferior in size.
But Zaratos, the lord of answers, was a wise and cunning God. He was known for this in all the legends. Obviously, there was some kind of nasty trick happening here. What exactly? He ought to find out before he fought with this thing hand to hand.
The creature had about a hundred feet left to hobble to the road. It raised its fists over its tiny head. Its arms were long, but it still wouldn’t reach. So, what was it doing?
Sartorius aimed at the very middle of the shapeless silhouette and shot a fireball. A clot of flame whizzed by, striking the trudging monster and exploding with a powerful dazzling splash of heat.
For a moment, the dark figure of the temple guard disappeared in a fiery storm… then resurfaced from the raging flame. It bent abruptly. The huge fists struck the ground. A wave ran out from the monster. It was invisible, but where it passed, the flowers lay down, their stems breaking, small pebbles flying into the air, and dust rising.
Jack and Sartorius backed away, but the wave moved too swiftly. The ground shuddered underneath them. The players were thrown spinning into the air…
Jack found himself lying among the crumpled tulips a few paces from where he’d been standing. The beast was approaching, creeping steadily, inescapable. It stared at the players with dark round holes instead of eyes.
Sartorius, still not even realizing that his fireball hadn’t even damaged the enemy, launched two more fireballs in quick succession. He prepared the shots in advance and fired them as he moved. Another flash, another flurry of fire over the meadow… and again the sentry emerged unharmed from the fire. It was so close that, over its tiny head, they could read,
Zaratos’ Sentry Golem
