Kingdom of the Dead

by Pavel Kornev

  Still, this didn’t look like the right moment for the Darks to strike. Which could only mean one thing: this bell was tolling for me. The townsfolk had found out they had a deadman in their city!

  But why? How had they done it? Had someone in the temple noticed my suspicious behavior? I shook my head. Impossible. Had it been so, they would have apprehended me there and then. This was something different. Could it be that this uproar was about someone else?

  The street rapidly emptied. I decided not to linger in my room and walked out into the back yard, stealing a pilgrim’s cloak from the washing line. No idea what I might do with it but I had a funny feeling it might come in handy.

  I asked the innkeeper for a beer and took it to one of the far tables by a window that looked onto the street. The other patrons seemed not to be alarmed by the bells. They went on with their eating and drinking so I began to wonder if all my worrying had been for nothing. They might have been trying to catch a thief or attempting to break up a knife fight.

  More hooves clattered in the street. I looked out the window. Dammit! A squad of riders in orange cloaks trimmed with black — the uniform of the Order of the Fiery Hand — reined in their horses by the inn. Five swordsmen, two monks, a Paladin and his shield-bearer.

  It didn’t look as if they were trying to catch a thief. I didn’t really trust my Incognito, so I surreptitiously got up and moved toward the back door. The moment I walked out into the corridor, the front door slammed, letting in the clatter of armor and the stomping of heavy boots.

  “This is a routine control, gentlemen,” a deep powerful voice announced. “A dangerous criminal has sneaked into the town...”

  I didn’t listen any further. I put the mask back on and ran along the corridor. Just as I turned a corner, I bumped right into a monk whose fingers were already emitting the merciless blessing of a cleansing flame.

  He was ten feet away: way out of my reach. The moment I drew my sword, he’d roast me and I wasn’t even sure that the Veil of Death would be of any help. And in any case, the rest of their bunch would hear the noise and come running.

  “Take your mask off!” the monk demanded.

  I obeyed. Pointless trying to prolong the agony.

  The monk seemed to be pacified by my complaisance. “Come here, my son,” he asked in a much softer tone.

  Very well... Daddy.

  Unhurriedly I stepped toward the monk. As he raised his hand for a fiery blessing, I performed a well-calculated combo.

  Leap! Sudden Blow! Power Lunge!

  Touch of Death!

  I attacked him unarmed — but my nails which still resembled claws easily pierced both the glove and the monk’s habit. With a powerful swing, I buried my entire hand in his belly, squeezing the slimy guts, and attacked him with a paralyzing spell.

  Stun! 00:00:16... 00:00:15...

  He froze, his mouth open in a silent scream, unable to either cast a spell nor call for help. I pulled my hand out, disemboweling him and dealing additional damage, then drew the bone hook from my belt and buried it in my victim’s neck.

  Execution! The monk of the Order of the Fiery Hand has been killed!

  Experience: +350 [37 529/43 000]; +350 [37 573/43 000]

  Undead, the level is raised! Rogue, the level is increased!

  Marble Fortress: status has changed!

  Current status: enemy

  The monk dropped to the floor dead as a doornail while I rushed out into the backyard and vaulted over the fence, heaving my body over into a blind alley. I didn’t run but walked unhurriedly away. When I was about to walk out into the street, I finally heard frantic hollering behind me.

  Tough luck, guys! Too late!

  I didn’t even care I’d just become their sworn enemy. This wasn’t a PK mark. Incognito would cover it up. Incognito was a power to be reckoned with!

  4

  I TURNED A CORNER and opened the game menu as I walked. No idea what awaited me so I really had to improve my stats first of all. Especially because it was a no-brainer, really, just adding 1 pt. to both Strength and Agility and bringing Incognito to level 4, seeing as I now had this possibility.

  Why not Execution, might you ask? Because at the moment, I considered Stealth much more important.

  The entire world was about to wage war against me, yeah right.

  Incognito IV

  It’s not that easy to hide from a furious wizard — but executioners know how to conceal themselves from search spells.

  -25% to your chances of being discovered with the help of magic.

  +20% to Stealth.

  Excellent. This way all those monks and Fiery Hand Paladins might find the task of locating me slightly more difficult. And I still had to hide from those Sun-worshipping priests today. Oh no, I had no intention of leaving the place without visiting the Temple first. All this effort for nothing? I didn’t think so!

  I forced myself to calm down and began studying level-4 spells. I wasn’t particularly spoiled for choice, so it didn’t take me long to choose. Why should it, if I now had Haste at my disposal? This was a spell that gave a considerable boost to the Lich’s speed for the duration of a few seconds — a real boon for my rogue with his two-handed sword. I’m gonna dice and cube you all!

  The alleyway had taken me to a wide boulevard which ran parallel to the city walls. I cast a cautious look around and turned to the left, fully intending to climb the hill and lie low in the vicinity of the temple until darkness fell. The bells tolled non-stop, so I decided to resort to an air recon, seeing as the dead phoenix, alarmed by all the noise, was circling the sky above the city, not daring to land on the roofs.

  The bird’s eye view of the city didn’t bring any relief. The streets were now empty and swarming with patrols. Pickets were being posted at all the crossroads; new squads of Paladins kept leaving the Fiery Hand residence; I even caught a glimpse of the white armor of some unidentified knights. The few remaining players began bustling about: they must have received a quest to find the monk’s mysterious killer.

  Until now, I’d been walking in the open but very soon I might have to either stealth up or try to sneak my way through people’s back yards. And unfortunately, Stealth wasn’t a cure-all.

  As I walked along the rows of houses with ground-floor shops racking my brain for a way to get to the Temple, I heard the clatter of hooves behind my back. My mind seemed to be split; even though I didn’t turn round, I could still see through Scarecrow’s eyes. A paladin in reddish orange armor which appeared to be made of solidified fire was flying around the corner toward me on his eight-legged horse.

  Dammit! It was Barth Firefist, the level 99 player.

  Somehow I didn’t think he was just riding past. I dashed off toward a gaping hole in a stone wall of one of the nearby houses, followed by triumphant whistling. They were hunting me like a wild beast!

  Sorry, guys. Don’t hold your breath.

  I dove into a narrow side lane, vaulted over the fence that blocked it, then darted away. Catch me if you can!

  Still, the paladin’s monstrous horse simply rammed through the fence and galloped on.

  What a bastard! I turned off into a small backyard, passed under an arch into the adjacent lane, then hurried to stealth up.

  Pointless. The horse was immediately back on my trail like a police dog. It caught up with me in no time and very nearly bit half my head off. Its jaws were packed with sharp wolf-like teeth; its eyes were ablaze with an infernal flame.

  I had to dodge, then tried to escape a powerful kick from its hooves. My Stealth had worn off. The Paladin rose in the saddle, swinging a chain mace over his head, its fiery ball studded with a great many dreadful spikes.

  I somersaulted out of a sure death. The terrible weapon sailed above my head, hitting the corner of a house and sending a couple of bricks flying through the air in a cascade of masonry. The eight-legged monster’s momentum carried it further while I dove back under the arch, kicked a door open, ran through a
house and into a neighboring street — directly into the city guards’ hands!

  I hadn’t even slowed down, just taken a swing with my flamberge, aiming at their legs. All three guards went rolling onto the pavement but the Paladin had already ridden around the block and was catching up with me. I had to dive into the nearest gateway. My Stamina kept dwindling and I couldn’t do a thing about it. If I failed to shake them off, they’d kill me. Hopefully, only once.

  I crossed another backyard and ducked out into a narrow street. A cart loaded with large barrels trundled unhurriedly toward me. There was no way a mounted rider could negotiate it. Just to be sure, I sent the driver sprawling with a backhander.

  Unfortunately, this trick failed to stop the Paladin. In one graceful leap, his monstrous horse jumped over the cart and galloped further on, its hooves striking up sparks from the cobblestones.

  I just couldn’t make it, could I? Everywhere I turned, more Fiery Hand knights were massing. Very soon they’d either corner me or shoot me with their crossbows. And once I respawned in one of the neighboring alleys, they were sure as hell to find me and smoke me for a second time. And again. And yet again...

  Dammit! If only I had wings like Scarecrow who was now soaring above the roofs!

  The hell stallion’s hooves behind my back grew louder with every passing moment. Here, the street was a mere three feet wide. When it had taken me to the old arsenal, I abandoned all attempts to escape and ducked into its smashed gates. The Paladin kept close behind, so I had to take a staircase which lined the arsenal’s walls.

  The monstrous horse leapt after me but recoiled, unable to climb the steep stairs. Not that that baffled the Paladin. He leapt from his saddle and dashed after me, swinging his fiery mace in the air as he ran. The faster it rotated, the brighter it shone.

  Our level gap left me no hope of ever defeating him in combat so I just kept running up the stairs non-stop without even trying to fight back. The Paladin was already on my heels, swinging his terrible mace but missing every time, his dreadful weapon leaving deep gaping holes in the thick stone walls.

  He would kill me with a single blow! He'd swat me like a fly!

  I rammed into some rusty bars blocking my way, broke them out and ran out onto the roof.

  A sea of tiled roofs lay below. The houses here weren’t adjacent to the arsenal though, leaving me no chance of jumping over to them. My only hope lay on the roof’s opposite side but the Paladin had already climbed out too and was bound to hit me with his mace as I prepared to leap. Bummer!

  Barth Firefist looked around himself and said with a theatrical shake of his head,

  “So, John? You can’t run any further, can you?”

  My jaw dropped. Incognito was still working! How did he know my name?

  You could play chase on this square roof forever. I began flanking my enemy, trying to buy time to run to the other side.

  “You thought you were smart, didn’t you?” he growled, throwing his hands above his head. “O Holy Flame!” he exclaimed.

  Immediately a column of blinding fire fell from the sky.

  The blessing was supposed to singe and stun a deadman. Instead, I sensed a bitter cold. The Moon Grail! Its sepulchral chill would have surely killed me had I not been dead already.

  I walked out of the flames and cracked a sarcastic smile, desperately trying to stop my teeth from chattering. “Something’s wrong, Iron Head?” I said, walking around him. If only I could make it to the opposite side of the roof!

  Barth Firefist cussed and raised his hand again, launching a wave of intense fire at me. This one had nothing holy about it, only pure unadulterated combat magic.

  I promptly activated the Veil of Death which softened the blow somewhat. But even so his spell had thrown me onto the far corner of the roof, very nearly sending me flying to my death on the pavement below.

  “Did you really think I only had one char?” the Paladin began to blabber. He just didn’t make sense. “Hah!” he guffawed. “You didn’t understand anything, did you? That’s me! Your old friend Garth! Didn’t you recognize me?”

  Two chars?

  The mind boggles! A necro for sale and a level-99 Paladin as his main char? What a bastard!

  Then it dawned on me. “So it was you who sold me to the order?” I mentally called Scarecrow while keeping my eyes on the swinging fiery mace.

  “Brilliant idea, don’t you think?” he laughed, utterly pleased with himself. “Now you’re their enemy. No one’s gonna say a word when I make mincemeat of you. Because I’m going to. And not just once. You’re gonna get your comeuppance, trust me.”

  “Do you need the skull?” I produced the carved rock out of my inventory. “You can forget it!”

  He choked on his laughter. “So what’re you gonna do with that, then? Are you gonna chuck it? Come on, go ahead then! You can’t throw it very far. And you won’t have the time to pick it up! Somehow I don’t think you can fly!”

  Barth was perfectly confident. He had every reason to be. Even if I managed to throw the artifact onto a neighboring roof, he’d kill me and recover it before I could respawn.

  He had all the aces. I had no choice but to activate Joker. I took a swing, investing all of my deathly strength into throwing the skull high in the sky.

  A shadow flashed above. Scarecrow caught the artifact in his terrible talons and flapped his wings, gaining height.

  The order I’d given him was perfectly simple: he had to take the skull to a safe place. The only such location I could think of was the dungeon with the desecrated statue of the Angel of Darkness. That’s where he now headed.

  Wailing, Barth threw his hand in the air, trying to reach Scarecrow with his magic. I jumped at my chance and went for him.

  Haste! Quick Strike!

  Three blows merged in one. The Paladin had no chance of avoiding the flamberge’s undulating blade — but he didn’t even try to do so. Thrice my sword hit the reddish orange armor without leaving as much as a scratch, let alone a dent.

  Still, the attack hadn’t been completely unsuccessful. I rammed all my weight against him causing Barth’s hand to quaver and the fiery beam to miss Scarecrow by a hair’s breadth. The phoenix dove down and disappeared behind the city wall.

  “You bastard!” Barth gasped, throwing me aside.

  He raised his mace, its fiery ball coming down on me. However, Haste was still active, allowing me to roll aside just in time.

  The mace’s spikes pierced the roof. The Paladin jerked it free and assaulted me again. That’s when my well-leveled Dodge came in handy. Miraculously I avoided the blow, jumped over the connecting chain and darted off.

  I had to get to the roof’s other edge!

  Garth hissed a curse after me. A fiery wind picked me up and carried me away, roasting me in the process. It hadn’t killed me though, only taking two-thirds of my Health. Barely alive, I collapsed off the roof, kicking myself away at the last moment.

  “I’m not finished with you yet!” the Paladin shouted after me.

  The cobbled pavement came up to meet me. I squirmed, investing the last of my mana into a magic Lasso. Its energy coil got caught up on the drainpipe of the house opposite, pulling itself taut and jerking me aside. I launched myself through an open window, knocked over a table, sprawled across the room and stumbled down a staircase.

  A fireball crashed in after me. A powerful explosion set the furniture and the curtains ablaze. Immediately fire took hold, roaring and filling everything with thick acrid smoke.

  I didn’t panic nor did I follow the petrified lodgers down the stairs. Instead, I ran up to the attic. Downstairs promised me nothing good, only more problems: a fearsome eight-legged horse with a remarkable nose for stealthed-up quarry, more guards flooding the city and a furious paladin...

  To hell with them all! I didn’t care! I wasn’t going to choke, I just had to make sure I didn’t roast. Which was a good possibility.

  The top floors were completely engulfed in f
lames. The fire was spreading along the wooden superstructure with incredible speed. Enveloped in smoke, I climbed onto the roof and barely managed to jump over to the neighboring house when the roof caught fire and collapsed.

  Under the double cover of Stealth and the smoke I walked over to the edge and looked below. Barth had just run out of the abandoned arsenal. The guards tried to stop him but he swept them aside and sprang into the saddle. But before he could dash off, he was encircled by some Fiery Hand knights.

  A level-99 Paladin was quite capable of razing a couple of city blocks to the ground. Still, the game’s balance wasn’t just a pretty word. You can’t win a battle with the entire world. Once you were outlawed, bounty hunters would be lining up for your scalp, greedy for their tiny share of XP and fame.

  I just hoped that Barth would lose it, forcing them to either kill or at least banish him. Still, I decided not to wait until the end of the show and hurried away, leaping from one roof to the next.

  I was reeking of burnt flesh. It looked like I was deep in it.

  5

  I DIDN’T RISK acting out the chimneysweep for much longer. As soon as I’d vacated the cordoned-off area, I climbed down into a blind alley, put on the cloak I’d stolen at the inn and walked on, prepared to stealth up at a moment’s notice.

  I was desperate for my air recon but I’d lost all communication with Scarecrow as soon as he'd left the city limits. I could only pray that he’d delivered my skull to the dungeon of the Angel of Darkness instead of dropping it into the first marsh he saw.

  Should I maybe commit suicide just to check it? Oh no. I still had things to do here.

  I began weaving around the city. At first, everything went fine. The Fiery Hand paladins had stopped combing through the side alleys in search of the elusive assassin. Gradually, the townsfolk filled the streets again; I’d managed to avoid the few remaining guards still picketing the area. The only thing required of me was to remain inconspicuous.