by M Helbig
Decrona let out a single, inhuman scream. By the time I realized where the sound had come from, she was hunched on the ground in a throbbing heap with Olaf standing over her, holding a bloody dagger. When Decrona attempted to rise, Olaf remorselessly stabbed her two more times until she stopped moving. There wasn’t a hint of my always smiling, naïve friend in those eyes as he drove his dagger deeper and deeper with each strike. As his eyes met mine, the haunted look evaporated like he’d been hit by a spell.
Nyytro grinned. “Wasn’t expecting that quite yet.”
I raised my bow again. “You purposely orchestrated the death of The Scion and fall of Highwall. And then had us kill your only ally. Countless players and NPCs died in this scheme. You even killed your best friend in the real world. Why are you doing this? Do you have some sort of master scheme or are you just a psychopath who enjoys death?”
He waved his finger like a baton and then a dagger appeared in his hand. He flicked my arrow out of the air and pointed his blade at me. “Do you take me for some sort of moronic movie villain who blurts out his plan when he thinks he’s won? It’s so much more fun to torture your pea-brained minds by letting you try to figure it out.”
“I—I stumbled into some bushes,” Olaf sobbed. “There was a body in there—a short, furry body with a pink bow on its head. There were burns all over Nanny’s corpse, the kind I saw on the kobolds when Decrona killed them with her spell, and we saw Decrona coming from that bush when we arrived. I tried to send Nanny a message, but it said, ‘Player Not Found’. That dirty dwarf that Alizia knows mentioned that message—but it can’t mean . . . Can it?”
Nyytro laughed mirthlessly. “It means that idiot Decrona accidentally uncovered exactly what I was looking for, and I missed it. All of this war, all of my planning was to draw them out, and she accomplished it in one simple act of betrayal to cover her cowardly tracks.”
Olaf scrunched up his face in confusion and Nyytro let out a long sigh in response. “It means your furry friend is quite dead,” Nyytro said. “Not just here but in the real world.”
Olaf dropped to his knees and wept. I launched another arrow. Nyytro was only a couple of feet away, and yet he continued to effortlessly block every shot. I remembered he was now a few levels above me, but he still shouldn’t have been able to dodge or block all my shots, especially at such an easy distance. I flipped Inspect on him to double-check.
Nyytro
Level: 15
HP: ???
Class: Thief
MP: ???
Race: Human
AP: ???
Experience: ???
AC: ???
STR: 43 (58)
Resists
AGI: 67 (104 for 16 sec./ 84 normal)
Light: ???
DEX: 68 (105)
Dark: ???
STA: 40 (57)
Earth: ???
END: 56 (65)
Water: ???
CHA: 21
Fire: ???
INT: 12
Wind: ???
WIS: 15
HP Regen: ???
Carrying Capacity: ???
MP Regen: ???
AP Regen: ???
Skills:???
Equipment:???
His 67 Agility blew away what I could get at my level and that was without the 37 extra points. No wonder I couldn’t hit him. I still felt I had to be due to hit him on my next shot, but I didn’t get the chance because he was already on top of me. I switched from bow to sword as he pushed me to the ground. His tackle interrupted my attack but thankfully only did a paltry 8 in damage; however, he was so close I couldn’t even use my sword. It was wedged between us, flat against my chest. Even within the close space, he was able to get in several slashes and pokes of his dagger, though only at partial Strength.
He already had me down to 87%, and I hadn’t hit him at all. I’d need a trick or twelve like the ones I’d used in our fight in the arena a few days ago. The level—and judging by his stats—gear difference was a lot bigger now, and he had me pinned. How could I beat him if I couldn’t even move enough to hit him?
There was only one option left. I hadn’t actually tested spell casting in any but normal situations, but I would have to try. Thorns was really my only choice. For Heat, I’d have to not only finish the spell without being interrupted—an incredibly difficult thing to do in such a tight space while struggling— but I’d also have to keep casting while I channeled it on him for ten seconds before it started doing damage, and then maintain my aim and continue channeling it for further damage. Even if I miraculously managed that, the result would be him on fire—not exactly something you want from a person who happens to be pressed up against you.
Thorns easily landed on me despite the limited range of motion of my hands. His next slice produced a sweet white 2 from my Thorns to go along with the red 8 of his blow. Even with my terrible math skills, I figured out that I’d need to do something more, but what?
I’d completely overlooked the one key difference between this fight and the duel a few days ago. Nyytro jerked back as a huge white 87! appeared from his midsection. Before either of us realized what was happening, Olaf caught him for another 73! and then followed it up with a glancing blow of 26 to his shin. This time there were no rules preventing outside help.
Nyytro leapt up and danced away from Olaf’s next strike, catching my friend for 46. His next strike missed as Alizia’s scepter lumbered in and caught him in the arm for 47. Olaf shifted to his right to give Alizia a little more room and to put himself into better position for Flanking Attacks. In response, Nyytro pivoted to get his back fully to the wall behind him. He took a cut for 36 to his upper arm from Olaf for his trouble, and a crack to his shoulder for 42 from Alizia. To his credit, he didn’t let the pain of the blows distract him and followed up by slapping Alizia’s shield to the side and driving his dagger hard below her rib cage for 87!
With my friends’ tight semi-circle around him, I couldn’t get a good shot in with either weapon, so I switched to healing, tossing a Regrowth on Alizia. I was down to 71%, so I cast another on myself.
In the little time I’d spent healing myself, Nyytro had whittled Olaf down to 47%, but a Regrowth and a quick potion pushed him back up. Our group was all at or above 80%, and Nyytro was at 73%. Even with his better stats and greater Hit Points, pressed against that wall with little room to dodge, it was only a matter of time before we took him down. He was doing more damage than all three of us combined, but we could heal. He came to the same conclusion and dropped another one of those smoke bombs.
Olaf and Alizia immediately began coughing uncontrollably. I yelled at them to at least keep him cornered, but they were too out of it to do anything but try to cover their eyes and mouths. Nyytro didn’t seem to be affected in the slightest by the smoke and casually strolled in-between them. I decided the value of keeping him contained was greater than the risk of hitting my friends and went back to my bow.
The first shot barely missed his head, but it did cause him to take a step back. I focused on speed over accuracy and fired three more shots, missing all but slowly pushing him back. My last one clipped Alizia in the thigh for 15. She coughed out a yelp and reflexively slapped toward the area with her shield, barely missing a swipe across Nyytro’s chest, while clipping Olaf in the back of his shoulder for 23.
Nyytro laughed and turned on Sprint. I didn’t even have time to shoot as he barreled into me. His blade caught me in the bellybutton for an incredible 146! I felt like my insides were on fire. The pain was so overwhelming I couldn’t even focus on trying to move, let alone defend myself. He hit me two more times, but I was too out of it to see the numbers.
The wait for the final blow was somehow more agonizing than the searing pain in my gut—or judging by the breeze tickling my insides, where my gut had been before. It seemed like my wait went on for hours but was more likely only a few seconds. I finally opened my eyes, expecting to see the nightmare-inducing image of
the blade as it finished me off, but instead found Nyytro before me with his back turned, desperately fending off an attacker.
“I Shout at you, you bald ugo,” Alizia said. “Not that I think your baldness makes you ugly—it’s just that you happen to be bald and also ugly. In no way are those things related. Like my friend Olaf happens to be bald and I find him quite handsome, but only in a platonic kind of way. I don’t like him like that—and ugh, please hit me and leave Horus alone for a while.”
“Nice save, Alizia,” Olaf said. “Not what you said—we must have a talk about that—I mean saving Horus.”
Much as I wanted to crack a smile at my friends’ antics, the eye-watering pain was too much. I briefly considered summoning my sword to end it, but that thought immediately disappeared when I looked at my gut; the wound was barely three inches wide. While it was kind of nasty looking, it was hardly the disemboweling I’d expected. A quick Regrowth later, and it only felt like a slight itch. It was a good thing I wasn't a tank class. I laughed at the thought of me letting loose a Raid Boss because I had an owie and needed a Band-Aid with a cartoon character on it.
After regaining my feet, I noticed Nyytro was down to 43%, while Alizia and Olaf were just below that. I quickly remedied the situation, gradually taking both of them above 70% over the next few minutes. While they only managed to whittle Nyytro down to 21% with my healing, it was only a matter of time before we finished him.
“Ha!” I pumped my fist. “Anything you can do, we can counter, you bald freak—who’s freakish-looking and coincidently bald. Those two are not related.”
Alizia giggled as she caught Nyytro across the side for 22. “Now we both owe poor Olaf a bouquet of flowers and some mustache wax as tokens of forgiveness.”
“My fragile ego is shattered,” Olaf deadpanned.
“Laugh all you want, children,” Nyytro said. “Because it’ll be the last laugh you get.”
“Umm, no.” Alizia blocked most of Nyytro’s blow with her shield, but still took 11. “You’re at 27% and we’re all above 75%. If they have a mathematics skill in this game, you should probably learn it.”
Nyytro slashed Olaf across the forearm for 17 to deflect his blow wide. “There was a Mathematician class, but it never made it out of beta,” Nyytro said. “But if there were that skill, you’d need it. Do you want to know why?”
Alizia slammed her shield into him, taking him to 19%. “Not really.”
Nytro caught Olaf in the side for 31, dropping him to 42%. I almost yawned as I cast Regrowth, but after the first sequence of motions for the spell, my finger abruptly stopped. Oddly, I hadn’t seen the usual spark of magic indicating my spell had failed. I shrugged it off and tried again but received the same result. On the third try, I saw the message: “Out of Mana!”
Nyytro cackled as the blood drained from my face.
Don’t Scream. It’s Only Me, Your Death
Nyytro effortlessly slashed Olaf again, taking him down to 3%. “You only got lucky last time, kid. I didn’t have my full gear and had just gotten my class. But now that I’m in familiar territory, even with help you never stood a chance. Any last words?”
“Duct tape.” Alizia elbowed Olaf out of the way and caught Nyytro’s stab in the gut, saving Olaf but taking her down to 20%.
I glared at my mana bar. It had ticked up to seven, but I still needed three more points to cast Regrowth. I opened my character sheet, and it said I’d need three more minutes to regain that. Maybe if I distracted him? “My last word is ‘Frank’. You know, the best friend you betrayed and murdered.”
A satisfying shriek came in reply. Who needs the Shout skill to get an enemy’s attention? My mental self-congratulation stopped when I realized that meant he was probably going to hit me, and then I’d need to cast yet another Regrowth, which I wouldn’t have the mana for.
Why isn’t he hitting me?
I dispelled the character sheet and found everyone’s eyes turned toward Decrona—or rather the figure looming over her. I didn’t know precisely what the levitating thing was but it was definitely way out of our league. The way its dark, tattered robes blew to a breeze entirely different from anything around it made me think of every final boss in every game I’d played. I imagined it holding a scythe to complete the picture, but its hands were empty—or rather the spots on the ends of its arms where hands should’ve been.
Nyytro just stood there like a statue, his dagger sliding to the ground from a limp hand. My two friends had more wherewithal and hurried to put distance between them and the specter. While they hadn’t completely panicked—or become frozen in fear like Nyytro—their faces showed they were every bit as terrified. Shaking past my own fear and amazement of the thing, I finally realized that the shriek hadn’t come from any of them, but from Decrona.
Decrona was still very clearly dead, and yet somehow her corpse’s face was now in pure horror. I had no idea how that could be. Surely she’d long since resurrected back at her bind point. Or had she? In the fight with Bruce, she’d ignored the option to rez so she could watch the fight. Was Decrona still there in spirit form, and was that thing somehow harming her?
While Decrona’s face continued its agonizing grimace, the thing tilted its head to look at me. I was expecting a skull or some sort of horrible monstrosity, but when I gazed into the hood, I found only emptiness. I’d always thought pure black was the darkest thing in existence, but in that hood I found a kind of darkness that can’t properly be described as a color or anything concrete. The only way to describe it was how it made me feel, like I was hollow and less than nothing. Everything I thought I knew was wrong, and even if I found an answer it, too, would be wrong. Nothing mattered because it never was. The world, the universe, and everything in it weren’t, hadn’t been, and never would be. There was only the hood. I felt sad, but what was sad? What was feeling? What was what? Is there a what?
“Poop,” Alizia said, followed by a childlike giggle. “I just figured it out. That’s what the inside of that thing’s hood reminds me of.”
“We are definitely in deep doo-doo,” Olaf said. “Decrona should be punished for what she did, but she does not deserve whatever that is. We must stop that thing.”
“Yeah,” Alizia said. “It’s my job to make her suffer, and there’s no way I’m letting some new guy do a better job than me.”
Nyytro was still frozen. Decrona screamed again.
While the thing didn’t have visible parts outside the long, flowing robe, I had a strong feeling that if we could’ve seen them they’d either be skeletal or not there at all. Either of those options led to the same conclusion: undead. This thing had all the looks of a big boss fight, and if I remembered one thing from my previous boss fights, it was that the undead were weak against healing.
It would take another minute before I could cast Regrowth, so I went with plan B. “Alizia, do you have any healing potions?”
Alizia’s shield disappeared and was replaced by a vial full of red liquid. “Good idea.” She popped the cork and was about to bring it to her lips when I pulled back her arm.
Olaf grabbed the vial from her hand and handed it to me. “This is only a minor healing potion. Will it do enough damage?”
I glanced at the thing again and a wave of fear I was barely able to overcome hit me. “Probably not, but I’m hoping it’ll be enough to get it to stop whatever it’s doing to her.”
I kept my eyes toward the ground to avoid as much of its gaze as I could. Thoughts of every terrible thing that had happened in my life flashed through my mind with each step, but I somehow still found the courage to move forward. I collapsed to my knees as I touched the edge of its large shadow. I physically couldn’t get any closer, so this would have to be enough.
It was a struggle, but I barely managed to raise my arm and let the vial fly. The potion seemed to travel in slow motion, but despite the protests of every muscle in my body, I threw it true. It arched perfectly, landing right between where its eyes should�
�ve been. The vial didn’t shatter, confirming that there was no invisible head in the hood, and I was very grateful Alizia had already popped the cork.
Despite the bottle and loose potion traveling completely through it and connecting with nothing, it broke its death gaze and the screaming stopped. A moment to celebrate, if there ever was one, though my plan had a flaw. Its attention was now on me.
I backpedaled furiously as it slowly advanced, too terrified of what it could do to let it out of my sight.
“I Shout at you,” Alizia screamed. “Umm . . . I Shout at you again. It’s not working! I can’t target it.”
Olaf appeared behind it and landed a perfect Sneak Attack under its kneecap, or at least he would have, if the thing had a solid kneecap. He sailed completely through it, crashing into the potion on the ground for 13 and then healing 3 of it back when some of the liquid splashed into his mouth.
My mana pool ticked to 10 and I cast Regrowth on it immediately. If a potion with its healing goodness drew a reaction, maybe another healing effect could do more. My hands automatically spun into the familiar motion of the spell, the glowing green energy flowing from my fingers. I growled in a mixture of defiance and fear as the spell completed, my hand shot out toward it and then . . .
Please focus on a monster, player, NPC, or object to use Regrowth.
The green energy faded in a puff.
“Your mother was a wet fart and your father was a cheap Halloween costume.” Alizia made a pig face at the specter. “I Shout at you.” Her scepter strike sailed right through its chest, and she crashed into Olaf behind it.
Focusing harder on it, I cast again. While I was gaining speed in my backward walk, the thing matched every step. My spell fizzled in the last motion as my elbow brushed into someone.
