Kingdom of the Dead

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Kingdom of the Dead Page 12

by Pavel Kornev


  A gray figure materialized in the air. The Count softly alighted on the well-trodden ground and blew a noisy sigh. “It hasn’t been easy staking a claim on this place. Further ahead lie uncharted lands. Keep your eyes peeled. And put all the lights out!”

  Isabella extinguished her staff and stepped toward me. “Neo is your responsibility,” she warned me. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

  A rustling of wings came from above. Scarecrow took off, sank his talons into a bat almost as big as himself and carried his prey into the darkness.

  A brief system message informed me of XP gained; still, it was gray and appeared inactive as the XP had been transferred to my pet.

  “Hah!” the Baron laughed. “That’s one cool birdie!”

  “Quiet,” the Marquis snapped at him, baring his rapier. “Keep your voice down! Is that clear?”

  “Go forward,” the Count ordered, then turned to us, “Don’t lag behind!”

  Like two shadows, the Marquis and the Baron disappeared into the darkness. I balanced the flamberge on my shoulder and followed them. Neo scampered after me, his silvery dagger at the ready. Isabella and Goar trailed behind us. If the priestess could move virtually noiselessly, the orc’s strained breathing and the clattering of his black armor echoed through the night forest, mocking our attempts at staying unnoticed.

  Still, the forest appeared dead, with only the occasional swift shadow of a bat darting overhead. From time to time, our avant-garde reported suspicious holes in the ground and spiders’ webs spun between tree trunks. The Marquis and the Baron only relaxed a little when we’d come across an uneven cobbled road. Lined by thick bushes, it looked deserted, grass growing between the stones.

  For a while, the Count studied the area warily. Finally he climbed out of the undergrowth. “Almost there,” he announced.

  We heard desperate squeaking. The Count nearly jumped. “Dammit!”

  Scarecrow ignored his protest entirely. He landed on a tree branch holding yet another bat and began ripping its still convulsing body apart. No idea whether a dead phoenix could level up but he seemed to constantly receive enviable amounts of XP for smoking little forest critters.

  “Right,” the Count chuckled. “Let’s move it!”

  We started off down the road. Soon we started coming across stone obelisks dug into the roadside, covered all over in carved runes. They seemed to be a cross between border markers and protection charms.

  Goar slowed up and walked next to the Count. “What kind of guard is it? What’s his level?” he kept showering him with questions. “What abilities does he have?”

  The Count seemed to be quite puzzled by his questions. He couldn’t tell him anything definite. “There’s a dead dragon locked in the dungeon’s third level. He doesn’t cast spells but he’s extremely quick and has very high resistance to magic. Plus he can see the invisible,” the Count told him everything he seemed to know. “You think you could slow him down like you did to us at the inn?”

  “I can try,” the orc grumbled. He reached into his bag and produced a fat notebook bound in worn leather. “His size? Color? Wingspan?”

  He approached the matter with a thoroughness remarkable in a creature as scatty as an orc. Even Isabella stopped casting wary glances around and took a peek into his notebook.

  “His scales are black or dark brown,” the Count said after a pause.

  The restless Baron couldn't help but add his two cents, “They’re sort of rotten.”

  “Keep your eyes on the bushes!” the Count snapped, then continued to describe the dungeon guard, “He’s at least fifty feet long, with four legs and clipped wings.»

  Goar leafed through his book until he found the entry he’d been looking for. “This one?”

  “No. He’s really not Chinese. And his wings aren’t entirely clipped. There’s bits of bone still showing through like spikes. His eyes don’t glow, either. They’re dead.”

  “He stinks of decay,” the Baron added. “His scales have come off in places. But still he’s fast as hell.”

  The orc pensively bit his lower lip. “Did you say decay? That’s weird.”

  “We’ll smoke him, anyway,” the Baron shrugged it off. “Last time we very nearly did it.”

  “Move it,” the Marquis shut him up. “Come on, put your ass in gear!”

  The Baron cussed and went off to mount the guard.

  For a while, Goar walked in silence looking something up online. Finally he shook his head, “There’s nothing in the bestiary that seems to fit. It must be something from the latest update.”

  I sighed. “We’ll sort it out.”

  Obeying a sudden impulse of my Dodge skill, I ducked aside. A bunch of bloodied flesh dropped from the sky, splattering Goar’s black armor. He cussed. The phoenix crowed happily in the dark.

  There’s that dead bastard again!

  “Did he do it on purpose?” Goar growled.

  “Leave the birdie alone,” I said.

  “He’s right. Leave him to me,” Isabella flashed an unkind smile as she wiped drops of blood from her face.

  I almost choked on my own laughter but decided not to provoke her any further. I quickened my step to catch up with the Count. “What kind of place is that? Can you tell us now?”

  This time he was more forthcoming. “These are the borderlands which we took from the Lights. But the main fighting is further on. Practically nobody comes here. We came across the monastery by pure accident and decided to sit it out there.”

  “Sit what out?” I asked.

  “The contract that was put out on us,” the Baron butted in again. “We smoked the wrong guy so they put out a hit on us. We had to lie low for a while. But finding someone in the capital is dead easy so we found this hole...”

  The Count rolled his eyes but let his loose-lipped henchman carry on.

  “Finding someone in the capital is dead easy?” I repeated. “How do you do that?”

  “You leave them a note and they’ll work it out for you. It’s a whole business,” the Count grinned. “You have any idea how many blacklists players have? Some are looking for an enemy while others just can’t tackle their foes on their own.”

  “So they have to pay someone to do it for them!” the Baron chuckled. “We sometimes accept orders too.”

  I gave a pensive nod. “Is it possible to find out if there’s a contract out on you?”

  “You can even buy them off,” the Count informed me, then leapt aside. “Watch out!”

  He quickly retreated into the shadows. A swarm of flickering green fireflies emerged from the bushes, illuminating the path as bright as daylight. With it came a hail of arrows.

  “You bastards!” I gasped, pulling Neo toward me and covering him from the ambushing archers. I wished I could dissolve into the shadows but unfortunately, I couldn’t—

  Dammit! Two arrows hit my back. One of them bounced off my chainmail while the other pierced its links and lodged between my shoulder blades.

  The damage was slight. I scooped the boy up and dashed into the woods with him. Still, the fireflies followed us, preventing us from disappearing into the darkness. An arrow flashed past; immediately, another thudded into a nearby tree. The archers then switched over to Goar and Isabella but the priestess covered herself with a magic shield while the orc’s strong armor protected him from the attack.

  Almost at once I heard shouting and sounds of a scuffle coming from the bushes. The shooting had stopped. Goar fully intended to hurry to the vampires’ aid but Isabella stopped him,

  “What if this is a ruse?”

  Her reasoning made sense. We stood back to back but no attack followed, only the fireflies continued to flutter uselessly over our heads.

  Scarecrow dashed from one of them to another, ripping them apart with his talons and hitting them with his beak. He was covered all over in glittering goo and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. I, however, felt very uneasy; a dull pain was brewing in my back.
/>   What was that now? I couldn’t remember the last time I experienced real pain.

  Damage taken: 10

  What the hell? Deadmen don’t bleed! What was going on?

  I tried to reach the arrow which was stuck between my shoulder blades but couldn’t.

  “Goar?” I asked. “Can you pull this wretched thing out of me?”

  He pulled at the shaft. My back exploded in pain but he couldn’t free the arrowhead from my dead flesh.

  “What’s wrong with it?” I growled. “Is it the barbs?”

  “No,” Goar said in a strangely changed voice. “It has druid magic on it.”

  He stepped away from me and shouted, “Druids worship the Equilibrium! I won’t fight them!”

  Isabella squinted at him. “Did you forget about the contract?” her voice promised nothing good.

  The orc’s face fell. At that moment, the vampires re-emerged from the darkness, covered in blood.

  “What Equilibrium are you talking about?” the Baron cussed under his breath. “We weren’t walking through the forest! They ambushed us on the road! This is neutral territory!”

  “They’re scumbags, that’s all,” the Marquis agreed with him for the first time.

  Goar didn’t say anything. But I had a lot to say. Something had taken hold between my shoulder blades, growing and gradually syphoning my health. And it would be stupid to die when the raid had barely gotten started.

  “Can someone help me get rid of this?” I demanded again.

  The Count got hold of the arrow shaft and breathed a quiet word. A whiff of death magic touched me; then the pain was gone and the arrowhead slid out of my body.

  The vampire flung the arrow aside. “We can’t go back on the road. We might come across more pickets. We’ll have to go straight across.”

  Nobody argued with him. You only argue when you have other options. We didn’t have any.

  We had to go straight across.

  7

  WE HEARD THE HOWLING of wolves about forty minutes later when we’d finally left the huge oaks behind.

  Here, the tall pine trees reached for the sky. The forest had grown lighter. We had to make a detour but the wolves had already gotten our scent and wouldn’t be shaken off. To add to that, the mist started rising, its white nothingness confusing and disorienting us.

  “These are druids’ lands!” Goar pointed at the mysterious symbols covering a large pine trunk. They didn’t appear to have been carved; they seemed to have formed naturally on the rough bark.

  “To hell with druids!” the Baron cussed.

  At the very edge of my field of vision I could make out the dark figures of our pursuers. I just couldn’t work out whether they were animals or human beings. There was something in their outlines that was wrong.

  “We can’t shake them off,” Isabella finally said. “We need to scare them away.”

  “First we need to find a suitable place to do that,” the Count said. “Losing your boy is the last thing we want!”

  You couldn’t argue with that. The first bite could cost Neo his life.

  Isabella swung round and launched a fireball into the mist which simply disappeared into the milky void. Unwilling to waste her time and energy, she hurried after the others.

  After about five minutes, we came to a steep ravine with a fast-flowing stream running along its bottom. We followed its course until we could make out a hill with a deforested summit looming in the distance.

  The Count suggested we made a stand against the wolves there, then continue safely on our way.

  By the time we climbed to the top, my Stamina had dropped quite a bit. Neo was so much out of breath I had to drag him behind me. The orc in his cumbersome armor was breathing heavily but kept up with us all the same. Only Isabella had it easier than all of us. Well, what could you expect from an Elfa?

  Midway up the hill, the vampires retreated into the shadows to wait for the wolves while we continued our unhurried ascent. We seemed to have left the howling behind. A tidal wave of peace and calm enveloped us.

  Crowing hoarsely, Scarecrow soared into the dark sky.

  Immediately Isabella startled and stopped. “Something’s wrong here,” she said in a low voice.

  There was nowhere on the top where we could take cover. At its very center towered the remains of a mighty oak which had been struck by lightning. Still, I took Isabella’s warning seriously and began backing off, pulling Neo after me.

  The deformed oak stirred, turning into a monstrous creature: a tall hunter with a deer antler crown, a bow and a spear. His inhuman gaze took in our group and stopped on me, pinning me down with an unbearable weight. His lips didn’t move but his words resounded through my head like a tolling bell,

  “Join my retinue if you want to become truly great, man! An incredible power awaits you if you join in the Wild Hunt!”

  Would you like to become a follower of the Antlered God?

  [Yes/No]

  It didn’t take me long to reject his offer. I just didn’t know anything about the relationship between the Antlered God and the Lord of the Tower of Decay. I didn’t want to risk my neutrality with the latter. Also, what was I supposed to do with a new lord’s quests?

  The creature’s eyes lit up with a threatening fire but at least he didn’t attack the cheeky bastard who’d insulted him by rejecting his offer. Instead, he disintegrated in a flurry of oak leaves.

  Immediately the wolves went for us from behind the hill. Wolves? Oh no. They were half-human, half-animal.

  Goar exhaled loudly behind my back and took a two-handed grip on his black sword. I slid into the shadows, then darted forward and met the attacking beasts with a simple but powerful swing of my flamberge.

  Scythe of Death!

  The undulated blade swiped three werewolves at the same time. Blood gushed; their guts hung out. I followed with two crippling blows, lopping off the claws of one of them while slicing through the knee of the other one. Immediately I stepped back, covering Neo.

  Goar stood at my side and used his signature trick, slowing down the attackers and finishing them off with his heavy sword. Using her staff, Isabella drew a long line in the ground, shielding herself with a wall of fire. The monsters didn’t dare leap through the flames but at least two of them went for me.

  My Stamina was dwindling. My hands began to shake. Still, I had no choice: I had to hurry up, investing the last of my strength in a series of rapid blows.

  One! Two! Three!

  My first strike chopped off the head of one of the gutted ones. The other, however, proved to be a tough cookie. He dodged the first blow with remarkable speed, then parried the flamberge with his claws.

  Immediately he went flying back as the skull topping the priestess’ staff hit him so hard that it broke his breastbone and crushed his ribs. Before the monster could climb back to his feet, I used the sorcerous Leap to port almost upon him. I raised the sword over my head and invested all of my remaining strength into a slashing blow. My trusty blade didn’t let me down, cleaving my victim in two.

  Yes! That’s how you do it!

  Having finished the monster off, I hurried toward my companions. Still, they had little need for me as the vampires had already emerged from the shadows and went for the werewolves, slicing their throats, chopping off their legs and piercing their hearts. Blood flowed like a river. To my surprise, the little Baron held his own. His puny build belayed his speed; his daggers dealt crippling blows, slicing through veins and tendons and leaving his victims for the Marquis and the Count to deliver their coups de grace.

  I didn’t join in the melee. No point overdoing it. As it was, my both incarnations had already grown in levels. If only I could find enough time to distribute my available characteristic and skill points!

  The werewolves’ mangled remains still convulsed, moving and attempting to reconstitute into a single being: a nauseating Cadaver. I sensed the presence of hostile magic; it must have been the Antlered God that sup
ported life within the carrion. In the end, Isabella had to scorch the dismembered body parts with her fire spells.

  “We need to get out of here,” I hurried to others, wincing from the unbearable stench of burnt flesh.

  The vampires stopped sharing the fangs they’d ripped out of the werewolves’ jaws. The Count pointed to somewhere below, “Over there!”

  With the death of the wolves, the mist quickly dispersed from the woods, enough for me to make out an opening amid the trees and the ruins of a monastery on it.

  Isabella stopped incinerating the monsters’ remains, cast a few protection symbols on the glade and announced, “We can go!”

  As soon as we started down the hill, she asked, “Was it my imagination or did that antlered son of a bitch make you an offer?”

  “He invited me to join his pack,” I admitted. “All of you are already in bondage with some god or other. The Mistress of the Crimson Moon, the Silver Phoenix, even that nonsensical Equilibrium...”

  She looked at me as if she wanted to kick me but overcame herself and continued walking in silence. Then Neo started up,

  “Uncle John, Uncle John! I could help you with magic! The power of the Silver Phoenix...”

  “Stop now!” I cut him short. “Any magic can only be used with my permission! Understood?”

  “Yeah,” he replied unenthusiastically.

  At that point, the trail took a sharp turn and came to an abrupt halt in front of a blackthorn thicket.

  “Shit!” the Baron gasped. “Where to now?”

  Behind the thicket’s rustling prickly branches, the keepers of the local woods awaited us. A gray-bearded high druid with an ash staff and a sickle behind his belt stood with his legs akimbo; behind him towered several lower-ranking casters, all of them players. Predictably, I could also discern the shadows of Elven archers flitting through the undergrowth.

  “What’s this, some kind of party?” the Marquis grinned, baring his rapier, its blade glowing blue with magic script. “Free XP on the house!”

 

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