by Phil Tucker
NIGHTMARE KEEP
Book 2 of Euphoria Online
Copyright © 2018 Phil Tucker
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN-13:
ISBN-10:
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Book 3
About the Author
Read Path of Flames
Kickstarter Backers
1
It was ironic. I was being escorted by necromancer and a dozen skeletal champions along the escarpment that led from Castle Winter to the highland meadow, and I’d never felt safer. I stumbled along, the toes of my boots catching on every rock, my mind a churning well of thoughts and regrets. My friends and I had striven for the impossible: to liberate the castle of ridiculously challenging foes – and won. Yet despite our heroic success, everything had immediately gone horribly wrong.
Michaela, on the other hand, was in high spirits. She strode with a vigor that belied her undead state, her long, muscled legs extending from her thigh-slit skirt with each stride, her staff resting across her shoulders, hands dangling over it as if she were in a stockade. Skull mask tipped back over her head, she whistled under her breath. If it hadn’t been for the gaping holes in her neck and side, you could have been forgiven for thinking she was a regular lady out on a Sunday stroll.
Movement caught my eye. Someone was climbing up along the ridge toward us, clad in a simple white tunic and tan breeches, jogging along the path with easy athleticism. He stumbled to a stop upon spotting us, and turned as if to flee.
“Falkon!” I waved both arms. “It’s me, Chris! Don’t run!”
My friend hesitated. I didn’t blame him. Nobody liked to be approached by skeletal champions, much less twelve of them. Invigorated by the sight of my friend, I hurried past Michaela and ran along the path that hugged the rocky slope, heart thudding in my chest. The very thought of him running away and leaving me to face this madness alone was terrifying.
“Chris?” Falkon’s usually confident tone was decidedly shaken. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing good,” I said, coming to a stop. Michaela, rather diplomatically, hadn’t approached any closer. I gestured at her with my thumb over my shoulder. “She showed up just after we killed the wyvern—”
“You killed the wyvern?”
“—and saved me from Lotharia.”
“Saved you from—what?”
“Yeah. She used the spider staff at the end to save me. But she used it too much, and she…” A sickening feeling roiled through me as I thought of those last moments once more. “I don’t know what’s the right word. Turned?”
“Oh, damn,” said Falkon, running his hand over his hair. “And she attacked you?”
I nodded. “Turned out trying to take her staff away was a bad move. But then Michaela there showed up and saved my life with a green forcefield. Lotharia fled into the keep, and Michaela insisted rather forcefully on accompanying me to meet you.”
Falkon closed his eyes and rubbed his brow with a wince. “Wait. You’re hurting my head. The undead chick saved you and then demanded to meet me?”
“That’s not all. She said her boss has been trying to arrange an audience for some time now, and when they saw the smoke from the blown-up stables they came running.”
Falkon opened his eyes. “I feel like I’m being beaten around the neck and shoulders with an information overload stick here. Her boss?”
“Yeah.” I hesitated. There was no slick way of saying this part. “Um. Dread Lord Guthorios the Forlorn? He’s the guy in charge of Feldgrau.”
Falkon stared at me, wide-eyed, then clapped me on the shoulder and gave a strained laugh. “Haha! You had me going there. You’re a freaking riot, you know that, Chris? Now, seriously. What’s up with the undead lady and her skeletal champions?”
Michaela chose that moment to interrupt. “They are called Servitors,” she said, striding down the path toward us. “And Chris’ account is accurate. My master desires to speak with you both. Your friend Lotharia removed herself from my sphere of influence by entering the keep, but you two shall suffice.”
She stopped before us, one hand on her hip, the other leaning her staff over her shoulder, and gave us a lazy, feline smile. “C’mon. Surely the brave warriors who killed four ogres and a wyvern aren’t afraid of meeting one little Dread Lord?”
Falkon choked so I chose that moment to extend his bastard sword to him. The sight of his weapon gave him strength; he took hold of it with a sharp inhalation. “The rest of my gear?”
Michaela snapped her fingers without looking back and a skeletal champion came running up, all of Falkon’s chain and plate mail jangling in his arms. “You’ll find you get only the best customer service from the undead.”
“Sure, sure,” said Falkon, gingerly taking his gear from the skeleton’s arms. “And this Guthorios, what’s he want?”
“Don’t bother,” I said. “Michaela takes an unusually cruel delight in answering all questions as cryptically as she can.”
“Damn,” said Falkon, struggling into his chain shirt. “As if dying weren’t enough of a bummer.” He tugged the shirt down, then grabbed his belt and buckled it over the shining links.
“On the plus side,” I said, “she’s confirmed that we’re not to be killed and recruited. Like she was, apparently.”
“Oh yeah?” Falkon eyed her as he slid his scabbard onto his belt. “Only the best customer service, hey?”
Michaela rolled her eyes. “It’s a short, sordid story filled with screams, futile pleas for mercy and unhallowed rites. I’m sure you don’t want to hear it, and even if you did, tough luck.”
“Fair enough,” said Falkon. He stared at the pommel of his sword. “Hey, my mana’s all gone.”
“Sorry,” I said. “That was me.”
“You really killed the wyvern?” Falkon’s eyes glowed green. “Holy crap. Level ten?”
“What?” Michaela sounded outraged. “You’re only level ten?”
“Yeah,” I said to Falkon, ignoring her but feeling a little smug. “Killing level thirty ogres is apparently a great way to earn XP.” I paused. “Wait, what? Level ten? No. Level eight.”
“Nope. You’re level ten, you lucky bastard. I got nothing because I died. Haven’t you checked your XP since you killed the wyvern?”
“I’ve… I’ve not checked, to be honest.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Not checked. You killed a wyvern and you weren’t even curious?”
“It’s been an intense past half-hour. I’m really at level ten? Wait a second.” I summoned my character sheet and studied the first window.
You have gained 160 experience (160 for defeating a wyvern). You have 172 unused XP. Your total XP is 922.
Congratulations! You are Level 9!
Congratulations! You are Level 10!
Michaela was staring at Falkon. “You can see people’s stats?”
“Oh, you a player, then?” Falkon eyed her with renewed interest. “Yeah, it’s a perk I’ve got.” His eyes flashed green as he stared at her. “Nice. Level fifteen.”
I re-evaluated Michaela. “Huh. I thought you’d be higher level.”
She flushed, which was impressive for an undead lady to pull off, and raised her chin. “I don’t care what you thought. Lord Guthorios will be even happier to meet you now. If you’re quite ready?”
“Wait,” said Falkon, staring more closely. “You’re in Death March mode, too?”
“None of your concern,” she said, voice harsh. “We march.”
Falkon sighed and threaded a strap through his breast plate, back plate, and pauldrons, then heaved them over his shoulder. “I’ll put these on later. Lead the way.”
Michaela gave a signal and half of the skeletal champions moved back up the ridge toward the first switchback that headed down to Feldgrau, with the other six following us from behind. She took the lead, clearly miffed and no longer interested in chatting.
“What the hell?” asked Falkon in a low whisper. “She’s undead and in Death March? That means she’s going to actually die when her six months are up.”
“That’s fucked up,” I whispered back. I stared at Michaela’s back in horrified fascination. “No wonder she said she was ‘forcefully recruited’. Man. I feel awful for her.”
“And what do you think this Guthorios wants with us?” asked Falkon. “I’ve never heard of the undead wanting to chill, you know?”
I hesitated, eager to move to my next character advancement window. “She said they need us alive. And that we’ll be working together. Beyond that, just smug smiles and half answers. My guess is that they plan to force us to help them with whatever they’re trying to accomplish down in Feldgrau. I mean, Guthorios was left behind by the guy who ran the original attack on Castle Winter?”
Falkon shifted the weight of his plate armor over his shoulder. “Could be. Looks like we’ll find out soon enough. Go on.” He grinned at me. “Check your upgrades.”
It felt weird to be excited about anything with Lotharia lost to us in the keep, but then again, life had taught me to enjoy myself whenever I could. Like how I’d been excited to hang out with Brianna even after Justin had been arrested back home. You couldn’t stop living your life, not even while you were living with tragedy. Moments would creep up on you, and suddenly you’d catch yourself laughing, enjoying yourself, having forgotten all about the heavy stuff you were dealing with. You’d feel a flash of guilt, of unease… and maybe that would ruin the moment.
And maybe it wouldn’t.
I sighed, thinking about Justin, thinking about Lotharia, and then opened the next window. One thing I’d learned after experiencing so much tragedy in my life already was that feeling guilty and holding back didn’t help anybody.
Your attributes have increased!
Mana +2
Strength +1
Dexterity +1
Charisma +1
You have learned new skills!
Melee: Basic (III)
Backstab: Basic (IV)
Hmm. Not as much as I’d hoped. Then again, I’d been ridiculously spoiled by my previous jump in levels. Still, I’d take a boost to my melee and backstab skills any day. Also, I surreptitiously ran a hand over my other arm – there was a definite swell there now of defined muscle over my bicep and triceps. Much more than I’d ever had back home. Trying to look casual, I tucked my hand under my spider silk shirt and felt a faint hint of ridged abs up my core, along with actual pec muscles.
Dang. I was getting ripped.
Falkon eyed me and then laughed. “Want help with that examination?”
“I, uh – what? No! Thank you. I’ve got it under control.” Most of the time I just thought of Falkon as a guy, but every now and then he reminded me that his player was a girl. A straight girl, at that. It was easiest to just accept him as he or she was, and not think about it too much. Which worked fine until he offered to feel up my abs for me.
I swiped to the next window.
There are new talent advancements available to you:
No kidding. I’d devoured two of them during the fight with the wyvern. What remained were Darkvision, Wall Climber (I), and Cat’s Fall. The two new talents were:
Mute Presence
XP Cost: 75
- Allows you to mute your presence in Euphoria, making it harder for monsters and characters to notice you.
- Your stealth skill is boosted and even those with Astute Observer (I) find it harder to notice you.
Heads-Up
XP Cost: 75
- The tighter the bonds of friendship, the more a companion can sense what you’ve just seen.
- Allows an ally within fifty feet to notice whatever you’ve detected, even if they would normally be unable to do so.
Interesting. I mused over my options there for a while, only half seeing the steep path we were following down to ruined Feldgrau. Darkvision seemed like the most useful, but I wasn’t ready to make any purchases just yet. I swiped the window away and opened the next.
There are new spells available to you:
Evenfall: Your affinity with the shadows allows you to target natural sources of light, quenching flames within 100 feet through mere application of will.
- Mana Drain: scales up with the size of the flame
- Cost: 75 XP
Ebon Tendrils (II): Animate two lengths of shadow so that they obey your will, growing up to a length of 7 yards and with two-thirds your physical stats.
- Mana Drain: 2 to summon, 2 to maintain for every additional 10 seconds
- Cost: 75 XP
Grasping Shadows: The darkness hungers for your foes, and will seek to bind and constrain any targets you designate when they move through sufficient areas of darkness.
- Mana Drain: 3
- Cost: 100 XP
I let out a low whistle. “Very nice. Man, I love leveling.”
“You and the rest of the world,” said Falkon. “It’s all about the dopamine.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But brain chemistry aside, these are some great powers. Want to take a look?”
Falkon opened my sheet and spent a few minutes reading through my options, then swiped it away and gave me a grin. “Hard to believe you’re now a level higher than I am. God damn it. If I’d managed to hang in there for the ogre and wyvern XP, I’d be level twelve or something now.”
“Yeah. Thank you, by the way.” My serious tone caused Falkon to give me a sharp look. “For stepping in there against Mogr and saving my life. Literally saving my life. Thank you.”
I extended my hand, and after a moment’s hesitation he grasped me by the wrist in a warrior’s clasp and squeezed. “You’re welcome, Chris.” Then he laughed. “I mean, are you kidding me? You in Death March and all, and you think I’m going to hang back and be selective? I lost a couple of levels. That’s nothing compared to what you’ve got on the line.”
“Still—”
Michaela had turned to look at me over her shoulder. Damn. Just how sharp was her hearing? She considered me with lowered brows then looked away.
“Still, thanks. It’s why I insisted on picking you up before heading to see Guthorios. I wanted – no, needed – someone who I trust to watch my back.”
“Yeah, see, that sounds sweet, but then I step back and realize it means you’re dragging me to Feldgrau’s Broken Tower, and suddenly it doesn’t sound quite as great.” He paused then gave my shoulder a shove. “Kidding. I can’t wait to meet the guy. I mean, ‘the Forlorn’? He sounds like he’s going to be a blast. Now. What’re you going to buy?”
>
“I’m thinking Darkvision,” I said. “I can see inside my own Night Shroud, but given that I’m supposed to operate all the time in the dark and shadows, being able to see what I’m doing would be a huge plus.”
“I can’t argue with that reasoning. And just a little more XP will tip you over the seventy-five mark again, meaning you can then buy another spell or talent in quick succession.”
“Yeah. Too bad my rat killing days are over.” I opened my sheet again, gazed over my options, then tapped Darkvision. The letters glowed gold, and the new talent appeared below the others. It being mid-morning, I didn’t have a way to test it, but I couldn’t wait to check out what it would do to my vision.
The path had just about leveled out now and Feldgrau loomed ahead, a graveyard of half-toppled buildings, circling crows, ashen ground and torn earth. I realized with a distinct sense of unease that Michaela’s rather jocular style had lowered my guard, making it easier to not really appreciate just what we were walking into. Seeing the decayed village right ahead of me, however, brought it home – hard.
“Easy,” said Falkon. “Like you said, they want us alive. That means we’ve got something they need. Neither of us are particularly diplomatic or charismatic, so let’s not try anything fancy. Just hear them out, and then see where we go from there.”
I thought of Lotharia with her Diplomacy: Basic (IV) and charisma fourteen. This was precisely the situation in which she’d shine. What was she doing at this very moment? With what manner of monsters was she dealing or conversing? For all I knew she could be fighting for her life, or forging new alliances with terrible beings. And here I was getting a kick out of spending XP.
Life goes on, I reminded myself. Don’t feel guilty for being alive.
I sighed, rubbed at my face, and then pushed my shoulders back and raised my chin. We’d reached the outer edge of Feldgrau.
Michaela stopped and turned to us. “You’re safe, of course, as long as you remain by my side. It feels a little demeaning to have to say this, but if you choose to bolt you’ll not only have me after you, but all of Feldgrau. I can’t guarantee your safety if that happens.” She gave an apologetic shrug. “Clear?”
