Void Legion

by Terry C. Simpson

  All he saw was the flames. Several more spells ripped through the forest. Breathing heavily, he tried to ignore the rain in his eyes, the stinging in his shoulder and chest. He fought the urge to wipe away the water or touch his wound.

  And then he saw it at the same moment echolocation revealed it. A humanoid ripple in the downpour. Rain falling on something that was not quite there.

  He fired. Korbitanium Projectile. Aether Shot. Divergence. Then an Aether Bomb for good measure.

  He was up and running before impact, Noobstick held with both hands across his body. Cannon Kata and exp gain told their own stories. His legs pumped even faster through the wet grass.

  Assuming there were several marksmen or cutthroats chasing him, Frost wove a haphazard pattern toward the distant stand. At the tree line, Tia and the others waited atop mounts. Saba stood with them, arrow nocked and aimed. A spare mount awaited his arrival. Gilda, Tia, and Nebsamu were waving him on frantically.

  His heart skipped several beats when enemy arrows sliced through the air past him. He almost jumped out of his skin when a Flame Globe did the same, its scorching heat sending steam into the air before the globe fizzled out some distance ahead. He dared not look back.

  Up ahead, Gilda’s chakrams lit up. Red and blue. Fire and Ice Globes hurtled from her and blazed arcane trails past him. Her spells boomed behind him with their impacts. Saba loosed a Triple Barrage followed by an Aether Arrow.

  Frost chose that moment to skid to a halt. In one motion, he turned, dropped to a knee, took quick aim at his pursuers, and loosed Divergence. A second trigger squeeze fired off an Aether Bomb. An Ice Pillar burst from the ground near him. He leaped to his feet and fled.

  “Go! Go!” he yelled when he had but a short distance to cover.

  Saba and the others wheeled around. All but Gilda, who kept her hands on his crevid’s reins. The other four bounded away along the trees.

  Frost reached his mount. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” Gilda fired off a few spells in the direction from which he’d fled.

  Frost slid Noobstick into the harness on the mount’s side and quickly climbed into the saddle. A moment later, he was flapping his reins and kicking his heels. A glance behind revealed Redthorns on foot dashing among Gilda’s Stalagmites.

  “Got them.” Gilda’s chakrams radiated blue.

  The Stalagmites exploded as she activated Glacial Eruption. Every single Redthorn was frozen in place. A blanket of ice covered the ground, powdery snow drifted down. Within minutes, the frozen Redthorns were distant forms. Frost let out an elated whoop.

  “Now, you can thank me,” Gilda said.

  Frost grinned at her. “Thank you.”

  “Here.” She held up a vial. “This should take care of the wound from that marksman’s Aether Arrow.” She tossed it to him.

  He caught the vial, popped the cork with his teeth, and downed the potion. Within moments, it refreshed him.

  Free the Captives

  Objective Complete

  Rescued group from Redthorn slavers:

  2500 experience points

  200 Khertahka dominion credits

  The IM did nothing to ease Frost’s sense of urgency. He pushed the mount hard, wind and rain streaming by as they surged up the slope toward Marna’s walls and front gate. Despite the escape, they were not yet truly free.

  By now, the Sky Swords knew who they were, and most likely had been joined by the other Battleguards Setnana Botros had sent to hunt them. Whenever the Battleguards were done with the Redthorns, Frost and the others were next.

  He and Tia had to reach Marna and take a simurgh to Kituan before then. Or to anywhere away from Khertahka and Puria. He hoped Nebsamu had already made arrangements with this Flightmaster Matahu. Now was not the time for negotiations.

  The race up to Marna seemed to take forever. Magic still boomed behind them. Piercing drake trumpets and shrieks continued to ring out. Minutes later, there came a lull in the cacophony.

  Up ahead, the town’s gates loomed. Nebsamu, Tia, Melori, and Saba had stopped upon reaching the entrance. Saba was pawing the ground and swishing her tail.

  Frost and Gilda drew to a halt at the gates. He immediately glanced toward Tia. She was wet and bedraggled, one sleeve of her tunic nothing more than torn cloth, her hair a tangled mess. Her face radiated fear.

  “How you doing, sis? Did they hurt you?” he asked. She nodded numbly. Frost tried not to imagine what she must have suffered, but dark thoughts and darker deeds crept in.

  From behind and below came a roar of a thousand voices. A quick look back at the Redthorn camp revealed victorious Battleguards.

  “Time to get moving,” Nebsamu said.

  “Why’d we stop anyway?” Frost asked, frowning. Then, he noticed. “Why no guards? In fact, where’s everyone?”

  He turned slowly, taking in the town, the nearby homes lining the cobbled avenue. Beside him, Gilda twirled her dagger. Frost picked out movement behind curtains, shadowy forms pulling back from windows to hide, faces peeking from cracked doors.

  “I asked the same thing,” Nebsamu said. “It’s why we waited. Something is not right.”

  Frost eased a hand down to grip Noobstick. “Doesn’t matter now. Either we reach the Flightmaster and get out of here or the Battleguards catch us.”

  “Perhaps the Battleguards didn’t notice us or don’t know we’re here,” Saba argued, tail swishing. “They were concerned with the Redthorns. Whatever has frightened these people can’t be good for us. We should just find another way down. A way out of the Sky Swords’ sight.”

  “Even for you, that’s kinda far-fetched,” Frost said.

  Drakes shrieked. At the Redthorn camp, several drake riders took to the air, headed for Marna.

  “So much for that first idea,” Gilda said.

  “The Flightmaster, it is, then,” Nebsamu declared. “The Aviary is on the north side of Marna, a big field on the outskirts.”

  “What if Matahu is already gone?” Saba asked.

  Nebsamu shook his head. “He would not have been scared away like these folks. And not only is he loyal to Blue Sky but I paid him a small fortune.”

  Frost smiled. “I could kiss you right now, homie.” He took one look at Nebsamu’s scarred face and added, “Well, not really, but… bah, forget it. Lead the way.” Gilda and Saba chuckled.

  With a snap of his reins, Nebsamu sent his crevid bounding forward. They galloped straight ahead before veering north onto another street. A few more turns found them riding along an avenue close to the town’s wall.

  Frost kept a wary eye on their surroundings, expecting Redthorns to appear at any moment. At every corner he was ready for an ambush. He tensed when coming upon alleys. He peered toward roofs for marksmen or casters.

  Through the driving rain, he tried to discern any telltale shapes. The downpour itself only served to increase tension, making echolocation even more difficult. His obscured surroundings brought a weight down upon his chest.

  Splashing through puddles, they galloped the entire length of the town, chased by the drakes’ trumpets. Not once did they encounter Redthorns or guards. The only people were those peeking from the safety of their homes.

  The weight in Frost’s chest built. His heart thudded to match. And then, over drumming hooves, over the beating rain, over the crash of thunder, over the drakes’ encroaching shrieks, came the ring of steel.

  Up ahead, several bodies were strewn about an intersection. They were eradae dressed in green uniforms.

  Nebsamu turned right without slowing and headed toward an open gate. More corpses were near the opening. The gate itself hung by a hinge, creaking in the wind.

  They bounded through into an open field. And drew to a halt.

  Near the Aviary
’s stables, ten green-uniformed eradae faced off against a humongous marble-skinned gurash in baggy trousers and a silver cuirass. A litany of tattoos snaked up the gurash’s over-sized arms. The gurash had to be at least twelve feet tall and broad enough to carry a wagon on his back.

  Frost gaped. He’d seen gargants. He’d read the lore about the colossuses. He’d even fought his share in the old version of Ataxia. But never had he encountered a gurash this huge.

  “Take a breath,” Gilda said from beside him. “What you feel is the effect of Total Immersion. And before you ask, yes, that’s the GUM, Umesh Madara.”

  Find the Slaver

  Objective Complete

  Umesh Madara located:

  500 experience points

  Umesh Madara certainly lived up to the reputation of Giant Ugly Mofoes. Scars crisscrossed a face twisted with rage and bloodlust. His eyes were deep dark pools that radiated hate. He bore a quaker axe only a person his size or larger could wield. One swipe of the double-bladed weapon could shear two men in half. A dozen bodies littered the ground around him. He brought the axe up and deliberately licked blood from one of the blades.

  “There’s no way we’re beating him.” Grimacing, Saba shook her head.

  “Nif blind them,” Nebsamu cursed. “Nif blind them all.”

  “What’s wrong?” Frost asked.

  “Behind the guards.” Nebsamu pointed to where a woman cradled a man in her arms. “The two humans on the ground. That’s Matahu and his daughter, Nepia.”

  CHAPTER 18

  “Shit,” Frost said. “What now?”

  “The Flightmaster could still be alive,” Melori said. “Perhaps, we can help him.”

  “Not with that monster in the way.” Saba jutted her chin toward Umesh Madara.

  IM made Frost aware of an objective to help Flightmaster Matahu and Nepia. “I don’t think we have much choice but to try,” he said as he studied the fight before him.

  The guards had split up and were attacking in twos from several directions at once while their tank, a marauder with a great axe, held aggro, thus keeping Umesh focused on him. He turned Umesh Madara away from his fellows. The warriors among the guards dashed in to strike. Without shields, they could not afford to parry, but their armor was capable of absorbing splash damage when the GUM used Earth Nova, punching the ground to send out a circular blast of dirt and stone.

  Sword-bearing reavers relied on quickness. They attacked with combinations of Eviscerate, Malignant Strike, and Mortal Wound, hoping to slow the GUM with bleeds and infections. Those Damage Over Time abilities stacked and often resulted in debilitation and health loss at a steady rate. But on Umesh, the DoTs appeared to have little effect.

  Marauders were more direct, their aim to do as much damage as possible with single blows. Armed with two-handed axes, they led with Raging Rush to get in close before unleashing Cyclonic Strike, weapons extended as their bodies spun for several revolutions. One attempted a Staggering Blow, but the GUM resisted the stun. Another leaped away from a quick succession of Umesh Madara’s slices to unleash an Aether Cleave, blue arcane energy extending away from the axe’s double-sided blade.

  The two casters among the guards worked in tandem, a windwalker with his warfan, and a sorcerer with a disc-shaped chakram in each hand. A flick of the windwalker’s warfan produced Gust, clear air becoming translucent. A mix between fog and water. The spell shot across the distance.

  The sorc fired off Flame and Ice Globes, quickly followed by a Flame Column, an Ice Stalactite from above Umesh, and a Stalagmite from below. Arcane red, blue, white, and hellish flames illuminated the area.

  For a colossus, Umesh Madara was quite nimble, leaping away from their attacks, countering with arcing swings of his weapon. The blows and spells that did land only seemed to enrage him. Mud and water careened into the air when he dashed this way and that, his weapon seeming to slice the rain itself.

  The ground trembled with each thudding footstep. He was a blur of violence whose attacks weren’t limited to his axe. His kicks and punches snapped out with equal venom, the trademark of dementers.

  Frost was amazed at the skill on display from the guards, at their ability to avoid the GUM. He tried to tell who was faring better, but it was difficult without Hit Points. Instead, he tried relying on the reaction to blows and spells, the effects a wound had on a person and on the GUM in particular. An arm hanging limp. Favoring a leg. Gripping one’s side. That sort of thing.

  Umesh Madara bellowed once, stomped the ground, and sent up a shower of mud. The Shockwave staggered two guards. He finished them with an Aether Cleave. The blade itself never touched them. The aether, honed into a thin blue edge, sheared the guards in half, cutting through armor, flesh, and bone like paper.

  “We might not need to beat him,” Gilda said.

  Frost smirked at her optimism. He wanted to say they couldn’t defeat the GUM even if they tried, but he bit back his words.

  Gilda pointed. “There’s a simurgh left. A young one, but it’ll do.”

  “I like your thinking,” Saba said. “Fleeing is our best chance.”

  “I’m certain it’s what Umesh wants also,” Frost said. “And he’ll get it as soon as he’s done with those guards.”

  The great beast-bird occupied the last stable, silver and black wings folded against its body, tongue lolling from its jaws. It cocked its lupine head to regard the battle. The fact the beast was still there spoke to impeccable training by the Flightmaster.

  The shrieks and gurgling cries of Sky Sword drakes grew closer. Frost looked back the way they’d come, expecting the drake riders to be close, expecting them to come soaring through the sky on the leathery-winged creatures. Storm clouds greeted him. Spell blasts reverberated from the same direction. The effects illuminated the air above Marna.

  “You don’t have time for this,” Nebsamu said. “Tia told me about Anefet’s letter.”

  Frost shot his sister a look. When had she read the letter? And why would she tell anyone? Tia averted her gaze.

  “This is bigger than this one fight,” Nebsamu continued. “Bigger than myself. You have to get to Adesh Hamada in Kituan. You will find him in the Gregis District at a tavern called the Wyvern’s Eye. Show the barkeeper the ring Anefet gave you and tell him you’re looking for a hammersmith.

  “I owe my life to Anefet. And to you after today. Melori and I will help the guards and keep Umesh distracted. You three, see to Flightmaster Matahu and Nepia.” He held out his hand. “Give Noobstick to me.” Frost hesitated. “With Stand and Deliver and Aether Overload, I can put it to better use than you right now. If your concern is not having a weapon, you can buy a better one in Kituan.”

  Frost pulled the cannon from its harness and held it out toward the scavenger. “Is Stand and Deliver really that potent?”

  Nebsamu climbed off his crevid. “You will see for yourself when I glow like a blue god.” He took the weapon, hefted it, limbered his shoulders, and nodded to the gurash.

  Melori followed his boss’ lead. But when he dismounted, he tore away the sleeves of his shirt to reveal silver korbitanium vambraces. Dementer’s weapons. Frost was certain Melori would have matching greaves on his shins.

  “It was a pleasure helping Anefet’s seeds,” Nebsamu said. “Forgive your sister. She only did what she thought was right.”

  “She’s already forgiven. And thank you.” Frost dipped his head. “We wouldn’t have made it here without you.”

  Melori placed a fist over his heart. “May Deluth and his warriors keep you strong.”

  “Anefet would be proud.” Nebsamu eyed Frost, expression inscrutable. “Coming all this way to rescue us was brave.”

  “I was just trying to do the right thing,” Frost said.

  “Which is admirable.” Nebsamu’s lips twitched
ever so slightly. He grew serious. “But it tells me you’re still attached to your feelings. While I’m grateful you risked your life, the choice might still prove to be your downfall. Hopefully, it is not.

  “You must realize not everyone can or should be saved. You must learn to let go. An inability to do so will fester. Before long you’ll be that person mumbling to yourself about the world’s ills. Don’t be that person. Nothing good comes of it.”

  Frost nodded. “I’m gonna keep that in mind.”

  Nebsamu bowed and then stalked toward the fight, sloshing through mud and water. Melori followed in his wake.

  Judging from Umesh Madara’s earlier speed, Frost realized they could not attempt to get to Nepia and the Flightmaster before Nebsamu and Melori engaged. Even then, he and the others only had as much time as those two could survive.

  “Get ready,” he said to Gilda, Tia, and Saba.

  Nebsamu stopped his advance perhaps three hundred feet behind Umesh Madara and stood with his legs spread, Noobstick held waist high. Lightning coruscated among the clouds. The rain seemed to fall harder. Thunder bellowed.

  Noobstick coughed out a whomp, this one louder than its predecessors. A thicker, wider pulse spat from the barrel. The air itself glowed bright cyan as a skill Frost could only assume was a sharded Aether Shot hurtled through the rain. A split second later Noobstick spat a second burst, this one a deep, dark blood clot red.

  “Now.” Frost flapped his reins. His crevid leaped forward.

  Through the beating rain, Frost watched as Umesh Madara shifted at the last second before the sharded Aether Shot struck him square in the back. Instead, the pulse hit the GUM in the left arm. Umesh bellowed, the force of the blow twisting him. The second shot, the deep red one, struck his pauldron on the same side and burned into the silver armor. If he hadn’t moved it would have been a clean headshot.

  Umesh snatched a corpse and flung it at Nebsamu, but the scavenger was already sprinting away from his former position. A barrage of Korbitanium Projectiles spewed from Noobstick. They kicked up mud and water from the spot Umesh had been moments ago. The gurash had leaped into the air toward the strafing Nebsamu.