Viridian Gate Online: Darkling Siege (The Viridian Gate Archives Book 7)

by James Hunter

  “But you haven’t been able to duplicate it yet?” I pushed.

  Unfortunately, the staff had an evil alignment, which meant I couldn’t use it without suffering severe penalties. But even if I could survive the penalties, it didn’t matter. The Arcane Dampener wasn’t powerful enough to do what I wanted. Not as it was currently.

  “Close, Jack. These things, they take time, da? Staff is not technology, is magic. But never fear, Vlad will have prototype operational in under a week. Though there might be a few, uh, how do you say, cockroaches?”

  “Bugs?” I offered.

  “Yes. Bugs.”

  “Such as?” I asked as he gently returned the toxic staff to his inventory.

  “Well, to begin, probably won’t—”

  A sharp knock cut him off, and before I could even stand to answer, the door swung open, revealing a very frazzled-looking Abby. Soot smudged her face, dark bags lingered under her eyes, and her crimson gown was even torn in places, while other patches looked like they had been set on fire. She looked like she needed a hot bath and then to sleep for a month, which was probably how I looked, too. I know it was certainly how I felt.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but I need you, Jack. Now.”

  I studied her face, noting the worry and uncertainty lingering in her eyes. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

  “Of course,” I said, standing. The wooden bedframe let out a squeak. “We’ll finish up later, Vlad. Just get it done. Our plan doesn’t work without it.”

  “Is no problem,” Vlad said, though I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “Vlad will save world. Is what I do. I will go. This war, it waits for no one.” He sighed, trudged out into the hallway, and shut the door behind him.

  The second the door had closed, I was across the room, pulling Abby into my chest, wrapping my arms around her and breathing in the scent of sweat and char. She melted into me, slipping her arms around my waist.

  “I was worried about you,” I whispered into her ear.

  “Same,” she replied, squeezing me even more tightly. “But we don’t have time for this.” She wiggled her shoulders and pulled away. “We’ve got a big problem, Jack. It’s...” She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, brushing it away from her grime-stained face. “I don’t even know where to start. I think you just need to see it for yourself. Come on.” She grabbed my hand and gave it a firm tug. Walking at a pace that was just shy of a jog, she ushered me through the Command Center, ignoring or flat-out bulldozing anyone who failed to get out of her way fast enough.

  Her mount, Valkyrie, waited in the courtyard, not far from the Legionnaire unit I’d passed on the way in.

  The Legion soldiers gave the Drake a wide berth, several of them eyeing the creature with suspicion while they fidgeted with their weapons. None of them made a move, of course, but their discomfort was apparent even at a distance.

  Abby paid them no more mind than she had the people inside the Command Center, quickly mounting her ride. I clambered up behind Abby, and before I’d even got settled into the saddle, she flicked the reins, spurring the Hoardling Drake into sinuous motion. I dropped down and wrapped my arms around Abby’s waist a split second before Valkyrie took wing.

  We caught a draft, and with a few quick pumps, we rose, flying just high enough to avoid the homes with their flat-tiled rooftops. Abby didn’t speak, and I didn’t press her since she was clearly preoccupied with whatever she had to show me. We cruised low over the city, banking west and heading toward a triangular section of Idruz, naturally sequestered from the rest of the city by internal stone walls.

  From the air, it looked like some sort of merchant district—drab-colored awnings lined a street that looked to be crammed full of wooden stalls. But there was something wrong down there...

  There was movement below. A lot of it.

  Incredulous, I pulled out my bronze spyglass and peeked through. My mind reeled, refusing to comprehend what I was seeing.

  Vogthar. A lot of them.

  Complications

  HORNED HEADS POKED out of windows and cowered in pools of shadow, and packs of the creatures hunkered down behind stalls or loitered in the narrow alleyways running between the houses and streets. So, so many of them. Hundreds at least. Maybe more. Except these Vogthar were smaller than the bruisers I was so used to fighting against, not much larger than a typical human. None of them wore armor. And tucked away among their number were even smaller versions with slight frames and thin limbs. Abby glanced back at me, a legion of questions burning in her face.

  Questions I didn’t have any answers to.

  We touched down in a mostly vacant square with a fountain at its center that showcased another statue of Thanatos. Cutter and Amara waited on the north side of the square, standing by an arched, gateless entryway that let into the section of the city crammed full of Vogs. Opposite them was none other than Caius Munatius Petronax—the pompous Viridian senator who was constantly giving me problems—and accompanying him was Sir Berrick and a squad of Inquisitors, all geared up in full battle-rattle.

  “What the hell is going on here?” I asked, sliding off Valkyrie’s back and rushing toward the archway. A number of dirty faces peered at me from the Vogthar-occupied section of city, big black eyes somehow brimming with curiosity.

  “Complications,” Caius said coldly in the same instant that Amara blurted out, “Women and children.”

  “How many are there?” I asked, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.

  As if we didn’t already have enough problems to deal with. This I definitely didn’t need on my plate.

  “Hard to get a clean count,” Cutter said, idly twirling a blade in one hand, back pressed against the wall. “Very skittish, this lot. Not particularly aggressive, though.”

  “Not unless you try to get at one of the children,” Sir Barrick amended, motioning to a set of deep gouges running across his otherwise gleaming chest plate.

  “Yes, the honorable high commander is quite correct,” Caius said. “They are deceptively dangerous creatures.” He scowled openly at Cutter and Amara, and for a moment I wasn’t sure whether the senator was talking about the Vogs or my friends.

  “I’ll be the judge of that for myself,” I said, feeling a prickle of unease listening to Caius talk.

  “It would be my pleasure to show you,” the senator said, sweeping forward with supreme confidence, robes swishing around his feet.

  “Hard pass,” I said, raising a hand to stop him in his tracks. “The less time I spend with you, the better it is for everyone. Including you, Senator. Abby, Amara, Berrick? You want to show me what we’re working with here? Cutter”—I shot the thief a telling look—“can you stay and make sure the senator and the rest of the Inquisitors are safe from the deadly Vogthar horde?”

  “How dare you,” Caius muttered darkly, his face twisted in disgust.

  “These are deceptively dangerous creatures, Senator,” I replied with a shrug. “Isn’t that what you said? I wouldn’t want to put someone as important as yourself in overt danger for no good reason. You’re much safer here, under the watchful eye of my Spymaster.”

  “Bloody right, you are,” Cutter said, giving his blade an especially violent twirl, eyes locked on Caius’ smug face. “I’ll keep you safe as a newborn babe, Senator. Why, everyone knows about my great love for Imperial bureaucrats. You couldn’t be in better hands. And speaking of hands, Berrick,” he added after a second, “keep yours to yourself, eh?”

  The Inquisitor commander gave Cutter an unamused stare and a hard sniff. “This way,” Berrick said, gesturing with one gauntleted hand, though leaving his formidable sword sheathed at his hip.

  The four of us headed through the archway and into the merchant district, keeping our distance from the Vogthar—though that wasn’t much of a challenge, since they scattered the second we got within twenty feet.

  Up close, it was clear these things weren’t warriors or fighters. They were built differentl
y than their counterparts. Far smaller in almost every way than the warrior caste, their frames were slight, their arms and legs slim and graceful, their eyes somehow brighter and more alive than I’d ever seen from a Vogthar before. Most of them wore togas or dresses crafted from gray or white linen, accented with strips of fur or splashes of colorful silk. A few carried weapons, mostly silver daggers, not the putrid black Malware weapons.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” I whispered softly as we snaked our way through the cramped streets. “We didn’t have a single report that mentioned there were nonviolent Vogthar. Definitely nothing about children. I feel like that’s something that would’ve stuck out.”

  I caught sight of one of the youngsters, hiding behind the skirts of its mother. It looked just like a little kid, its eyes unnaturally big, its horns little more than nubs poking up from its head. Interestingly, the angular, jagged script that covered the Vogthar warriors and even most of the mothers was nonexistent on these youngsters. Their skin was a dusky gray—not so different from the little Murk Elf children scampering around Yunnam—and completely unmarred by the sickly green power of Thanatos.

  “We’ve never had anyone scout a completely Vog town before,” Abby said, lips pursed into a thin line. “The Darklings live in the Necropolis—either that or Eldgard—so it sorta makes sense to me. Everyone must’ve just assumed these outpost cities were mostly for show. Obviously, we were wrong. Also, look at how protective they are of the kids. It’s possible no one has ever even seen a Vog child before now.”

  “Crap.” I shook my head with a grimace. “This is supposed to be the easy part, Abs. The Vogthar are just supposed to be brainless monsters to grind. But nope. Not in V.G.O.” Looking at the mothers huddled together like elephants with their gangly coltish-legged kids in the center of the circle shook my certainty.

  I was starting to get Sky Maiden Arzokh vibes off this whole situation, which left me feeling exceedingly uneasy.

  Back when I’d been trying to reunite the six named Dokkalfar clans by completing the Jade Lord quest, I’d been tasked with killing an ancient Dragon named Arzokh the Sky Maiden. Murk Elf legend held that Arzokh was a monster, responsible for cursing the Nangkri Dynasty and killing the original Jade Lord. Except, as I’d carefully tugged at the threads of history and legend, I’d learned nothing could have been further from the truth. Arzokh had been the victim, her family slain, her children murdered, her home destroyed by Nangkri in a desperate bid to fund his war against the Imperial invaders.

  “Things are not always as they seem,” Amara suggested, her hands folded behind her back. “If my time with you and the Alliance has taught me anything, it is that the truth seldom lies on the surface of things.”

  “But surely you must see the threat of these creatures,” Berrick interjected, his piercing gaze landing on the groups of Vogthar like a hammer blow. “We are fighting a war for our very survival. I was at Harrowick when the Vogs and their Darkling allies invaded. I watched them recklessly burn homes to the ground and slaughter our people, and I can assure you they had no compunction about massacring our women and children.”

  I recalled the night, not so long ago, when the Vogthar attack pods fell over Yunnam. I could see Frank Senior fighting off elite Scouts with a rolling pin while a group of noncombatants fled in terror. I was loath to admit it, but Berrick had a point: the Vogthar wouldn’t have shown us mercy.

  “That doesn’t give us the right to do the same,” Abby shot back, her hands balling into fists at her sides.

  “Abby speaks wisdom,” Amara added. “I think your people even have a saying about that. Two wrongs don’t make a right,” she said flatly, as though explaining something elementary to someone especially dense.

  One of the Vog children, a little girl in a dull gray dress, snuck up to the edge of the alley, long alien fingers reaching toward something lying on the ground. It was the charred remains of what looked like a cloth doll.

  Slowly Amara drew near, crouching down and retrieving the toy from a pile of windswept ash that had gathered against one of the wooden stalls. Moving at quarter speed, the Huntress extended the doll, offering the girl the friendliest smile I’d ever seen her give anyone. Ever. And that included Cutter. The Vog child hesitated for only a moment before snatching the dolly from Amara’s hands, then bolting back down the alley and away from the conquering invaders.

  Amara stood, crossing her arms as she watched the girl run. “I do not know what the truth is or what answer lies behind this turn of events, but surely there is something going on here. Something more than meets the eye.”

  I received a quest notice as she fell quiet:

  <<<>>>

  Quest Alert: The Path to Victory Part 2

  You’ve successfully managed to take Idruz, but there were complications no one could have foreseen. After stumbling upon a group of nonviolent Vogthar, it is clear they are more than they seem. Dig into the origins of the Vogthar and see if you can’t get to the bottom of what they really are and why there are Vog women and children living in Idruz.

  Quest Class: Rare, Champion-Based

  Quest Difficulty: Infernal

  Success 1: Take the gatehouse and capture Idruz before Thanatos can muster a counterstrike from his capital.

  Success 2: It’s possible the Vogthar are more than they seem; find a Vogthar Lorekeeper to get the answers you seek. They may just hold the key to toppling Thanatos.

  Success 3: ???????

  Success 4: ???????

  Success 5: ???????

  Success 6: ???????

  Failure: Fail to complete any of the objectives.

  Reward: ???????

  <<<>>>

  I read and reread the message before closing out of the screen. Yep, definitely Sky Maiden vibes, which meant there wouldn’t be any easy solutions.

  “This situation is confusing, I’ll admit,” Sir Berrick said, drawing me from my thoughts, “but the fact remains that they are here, and we need to do something with them.” His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, his jaw clenched. “Senator Caius would like us to eliminate them. One less drain on our resources, and easy experience for our troops.”

  I stopped suddenly, rounding on Berrick. “That’s what he wants,” I said, “but what about you? Does that sit right with you?” I crept closer, getting up in his face. Abby stopped me with a restraining hand. “Is that the call you would make if you were in my shoes?” I growled.

  Berrick shifted, uncomfortable under my gaze. “It is a cold option, I’ll admit,” he said. “Some might even go so far as to say it is cruel. But we can’t very well turn them away, now can we? That could put potential enemies behind our lines and firmly at our backs. Likewise, allowing them to make for the Necropolis will only delay the inevitable, and one of them might divulge some valuable piece of information that could cost us down the road...” He faltered, dropping his head. “But to answer your question. No. I’m not sure what the right course of action is, but murdering these people without knowing more is... vile.”

  “Good answer,” I said, giving him a slight nod. “I don’t know how it is in the Legion or with the Inquisitors, but in the Alliance, winning isn’t the only thing that matters. We need to be able to live with ourselves when this is all over. I’ve already made a lot of compromises that will haunt me, but this? This isn’t something I’m going to let happen on my watch. Post a guard on them, make sure they have food and water to drink if they need it. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Berrick replied.

  “Oh and, Sir Berrick,” Abby said, her voice scorching. “If anything happens to them—and I mean anything—I will hold you personally responsible.” She lifted a hand, blue-white flame igniting in her palm and crawling along her arm. “And unless you enjoy being set on fire, you don’t want me holding you responsible.”

  “I’m not a monster,” he said, his mask of steadfast neutrality firmly back in place. “I know you rebel folk like to paint us in
the Inquisition with a rather broad brush, but contrary to popular opinion, we save people. Common folk don’t have many champions in the world, but they do have us. You may have run afoul of some of our more fanatical members, but most Templars serve the communities we live in. We slay monsters, catch thieves”—he offered a pointed glance at Amara—“heal the sick when no one else will, and hunt down murderers before they can kill again. For what it’s worth, we also know how to follow orders. Nothing will happen to these...” He paused for a moment, searching for the word. “These people.”

  Even though he was an Imperial to his core, there was something I liked about Berrick. He was uptight and lawful to a fault, but he also seemed genuine. “I believe you,” I said. “And thank you. I know it’s a lot, but please do what you can.”

  We headed back to the gate in tense silence, the weight of the situation settling down on all of us. Once we hit the arch, Berrick pulled his men aside, briefing them about our standing orders.

  “How’d it go?” Cutter asked, slipping up beside us, though he kept side-eyeing Berrick as though he wanted to plant a dagger in the man’s kidney.

  “As well as can be expected, my heart,” Amara said, crossing her arms. “Which is to say, we will have to watch those men like a hawk. Berrick, he strikes me as true, but if that craven fool Caius wants these Vogthar dead, then it could mean trouble. He is a tricky one. Sly and slimy as a Marsh Eel.”

  “I can keep a watch on him,” Cutter offered. “Or, if we want Caius to disappear, might be I know a bloke or two who could make that happen. True, I’m not a Sicarii myself, but as a Gentleman I have certain connections. And if ever there was a git with his name on a blade, it’s that gibface ratbag, Caius.”

  “No,” I said, dry washing my hands against the chill in the air. “Taking him out will only cause more trouble than it’s worth. Besides, I have something else I need you to do, Cutter.” I dropped my voice low, making sure no one was in eavesdropping range. “I got a quest while we were in there. Something from Sophia. She says we need to unravel the origins of the Vogthar, and she specifically mentioned finding a Vogthar Lorekeeper. I have no idea what that is, but I think this is a big deal. I need you to reach out to the other Gentlemen. Or maybe touch base with the Ministry of Whispers. Someone has to know something, and we need answers.”