by Albion, Rex
Vandal knew he wasn’t dead, but he beheaded the nearest cultist anyway. This time, he didn’t want any of the bastards to escape. They scattered away from him, like cockroaches fleeing the light, and he stabbed the nearest one, somewhere in the chest, wrenching the sword out and not bothering to see if they were dead.
Cutthroat! You slice your blade into the neck of your opponent, severing a major artery!
“Fight me you cowards!” he roared. But as it happened, they weren’t running for the exits this time. He and Roxy and disturbed their ritual in their inner sanctum, and they’d gone to the walls where there were weapons. “That’s better,” he snarled, as one of them lunged clumsily at him with a spear.
He batted it aside with his left hand, as Roxy’s magic made one behind him scream in agony. Vandal stepped smoothly into the spear wielding cultists personal space and introduced them to his mid-sized friend. The sword took the villain in the throat, and he scored a critical strike for his efforts.
Hack: 10 damage!
Critical Strike: +5 damage!
Wrenching the spear from the dead cultist’s grip as he expired, Vandal flipped it over, and threw it left-handed at two more who’d grabbed swords, hoping to distract them a little more than injure them. It was as clumsy a throw as the stab of the man who’d let him take it, but he grunted with satisfaction as the weapon plunged into the chest of the one who didn’t move quickly enough.
New Skill: Throwing Spear. You have gained a new skill, through in game actions. 100XP
Throwing Spear: 12 damage!
Vandal advanced on the one who’d side-stepped it, only for the spear to impale his friend. That didn’t last more than a couple of swift exchanges, ending with Vandal pulling the man’s free arm to spin him around like a rag doll. He took hold of the man’s hair, wrenched his head to one side and chopped into his neck like a joint of beef with a cleaver. Blood sprayed across the room, in arterial scarlet streams of gore.
Cutthroat! You slice your blade into the neck of your opponent, severing a major artery!
Roxy had been putting the hurt on as many of the remaining four of them as he did his work, making sure they were distracted. But Vandal had still taken a couple of slashes to his exposed back and had barely noticed. He was too angry and too full of adrenaline, and when it did register his mood didn’t improve.
He rounded on the rest, the priest was casting some kind of spell, and his assistant was standing beside him, holding the dagger, as if the ornate piece would make a good weapon. It was far too showy to be a sensible weapon, and anyway, daggers were no match for swords. Two more of the congregation had grabbed ornate looking axes and shields, and back-pedalled away from him as he turned, retreating toward the priest.
“Surrender and we won’t kill you,” Vandal snarled, as he walked forward.
“Really?” the more credulous of the two asked hopefully, lowering his shield and axe a little to look at Vandal, as he contemplated his offer of clemency.
Vandal lifted his foot and powered a horizontal kick into the man’s shield, sending him tumbling to the ground as he lunged at his friend, “No, you fucking idiot, I’m a barbarian! I don’t bargain with evildoers.”
His fellow cultist hadn’t been gullible enough to fall for the false offer of mercy and was thus the smartest opponent so far. Vandal had to keep on his toes to keep up with him. This wasn’t his first fight, and the shield was causing some problems. He could fend off the wild swings of the heavy golden axe, but he couldn’t get a thrust or slash around the big round shield.
“Roxy?” he asked, as the guy circled to his left some more, and Vandal went to his right.
“Yup, he’s got his back to me now. Completely open,” the shaman said, smugly, letting loose a bolt of power. The cultist screamed as it burned through his robe, and kept spinning, which resulted in Vandal getting a shot at his back.
Whirling Decapitation! You spin around and lop the head from your opponent!
“Look out!” Roxy screamed, but she was too late. Something bowled him over, and he went tumbling to the floor, his sword slipping from his grasp, and the heavy, wet mass went with him, driving the air from his lungs as it rode him to the ground.
“What the fuck?” he shouted, as a stench worse than the sewers they’d entered through hit his nostrils. It was truly foul, and he had to fight the urge to vomit as suckered tentacles grabbed at his arms. Vandal struggled against the tremendous grip the unnatural appendages had on his wrists.
He writhed against their rubbery flesh, but nothing could break their grasp on his body, they were strong. Too strong and he quickly found himself being lifted into the air by his wrists, and spun around, as more of the loathsome tentacles wrapped around his ankles.
The creature turned him to face its enormous dark purple eyes, like limpid pools of hate, which wanted to swallow him whole. The tentacles lifted him, and spreadeagled him, as he struggled against their inexorable grip.
Roxy shot it with her zap, and the spell just sizzled against the mucosal coating that it exuded over its skin. It was eight feet tall, and almost humanoid, if it weren’t for the eight extra limbs it had beyond the powerful legs.
“Kill the priest!” shouted Vandal. “It’ll get rid of this summoned monstrosity!
“Vandal, that is the priest!” Roxy bellowed back. She didn’t hesitate, or try her lightning again, instead dropping heals on him to make sure he was holding up.
Well fuck, that’s nasty, thought Vandal.
The spell had transformed the brute of a man into something a lot worse by Vandal’s estimation. The head was a bulbous mass of purple flesh, and a huge beak opened wide, snapping viciously at him. He heard a zap hit one of the other cultists, and a satisfying scream, but that wasn’t doing him much good. At least Roxy was clearing out the additional mobs though, even if her magic wouldn’t harm the big bad.
Vandal knew the thing was toying with him, snapping away as he struggled uselessly. Its noxious maw let out a keening laugh, somewhere between a hacking cough and a scream of lust from a dying hyena caught mid coitus. Presumably the priest was enjoying the panic in his eyes, knowing that Roxy’s magic had already failed to harm it, and that it could take its time to torment Vandal. It clearly didn’t care that Roxy had just electrocuted its assistant either.
He had one chance.
“You’re one ugly son of a bitch, you know,” Vandal said. “No wonder you have to tie women to an altar, with breath like that you freak.”
The priest-octopus monster let out a hideous snarling shriek the likes of which Vandal had never heard, and really didn’t want to hear every again, come to think of it.
“No, sorry, I don’t date guys like you. I can recommend a good tailor though,” Vandal quipped.
“Fuuuuny maaan,” the hideous beast slobbered, as its beak opened wide. Vandal almost puked as its acrid breath washed across him once more. Even worse, deep within the beak, was a malformed head, blown out of proportion, puffy and swollen, and it was from this second mouth that it could still speak, after a fashion.
“I strive to give it my best. Give it the old college try, you know? It’s a much better way to get girls. What do you lunatics think you’re going to get from all this anyway? Is it power? I bet it’s power, isn’t it? Or money?” Vandal needled. “No, I know, you think you’ll be granted a blessing that will rid you of your micro-penis forever, right?”
The ex-priest didn’t seem to appreciate his taunts, which was good because he hadn’t intended for them to be taken on the chin well. Not that the priest had a chin, to speak of, but that probably hadn’t changed much just because he’d become an octo-man hybrid of some kind. The well hung and lantern jawed really didn’t need to join creepy cults, did they?
“Foolish barbarian. Our lord and master will rise up and rule over New Albion, sweeping your kind before him like the chaff before the broom of a miller,” the priest gurgled with his malformed mouth.
“That’s a weird simil
e. It’s not particularly scary, likening your dark god to a guy who makes flour you know. Is he going to make everyone eat whole grain bread? Or sourdough or something?”
“He will drive the world mad with lust, and the people will rise up against each other in a frenzy of copulation,” the priest snarled.
“That doesn’t sound as threatening as you might think.”
“They will copulate to death and beyond.”
“Oh. Yeah, you’ve got me there. Fair enough. That is strictly speaking, one of the grossest things I’ve heard as it comes to evil plans for world domination. I can’t fault it. It starts off sounding pretty lame, but it’s got a killer punchline. I suppose you’ll lead the summoning of your god into the world?”
“I am merely the Bishop of Tinshire, not the Great Dark One’s highest priest. I am but one of his many, many, faithful servants! Others will perform the final summoning of Libidos, once we have gathered enough tributes to power his entry into this world of falsehoods!”
“Right, I see. So, you’re just a henchman then, and I have a lot more important people to find and kill in your cult?”
“Yeeees. I am not the only servant working on the apotheosis of our dark lord!” the priest gurgled, then what was left of his brow furrowed. “No! I am the Bishop of Tinsssshire! I am powerful and you will die without challenging Libidos!”
“About that, though. I’d really rather not die, it’s quite painful I gather. So, instead, we’ll go with the other option, thanks all the same, Bishop Crazy Pants,” Vandal said.
Roxy impales Bishop of Tinshire with The Candlestick of Waxen Torment!
The Bishop of Tinshire screamed in agony, as Roxy’s brief run up ended with her thrusting the golden candlestick like a trident into his unguarded back. Vandal was quite pleased that he’d been able to distract the obnoxious creature. The octopus mutant’s tentacles spasmed and Vandal thought he heard the bones in his limbs crunching before he was flung across the room.
“Aieeee!” the bishop howled in agony. “It burns!”
“That’s what happens when you get caught monologuing, Bishop,” said, Vandal, groaning as he picked himself up but still feeling like he had a few quips in him as he looked around for the sword he’d dropped.
Sure enough, the mucus covering its body was burning with a blue flame, like gas. Vandal suspected the candles were supposed to inflict pain and held some nasty magic. Either way, with the mucus burning, Roxy tested her zaps again, and they began to drop the thing’s health precipitously.
Vandal picked up his sword, wincing at the soreness in his wrists, “Fuck that hurts!”
Roxy stacked another heal on him, and another heal over time to boot, and the pain receded but he didn’t wait for that to start hacking at the thing’s flailing tentacles.
“This bastard reeks of burning calamari,” Vandal grumbled.
“I’ll have to take your word about the comparison but there’s no denying that it smells bloody awful,” Roxy agreed.
Headbanger! Roxy detonates the head of her opponent with her magic!
Headbanger! Roxy detonates the head of her opponent with her magic!
Good, she was executing the ones who weren’t quite dead yet. Smart. Maximising their experience before they could bleed out, and making sure they didn’t somehow rejoin the fight.
When the notifications stopped, he called out, “Are they all dead?”
“Yeah, they’re done,” Roxy said. “No, wait, this one is alive.”
“Time to finish this then,” Vandal roared, backing away from the bishop a few paces before charging at him and leaping into the air, reversing his blade and bringing it down on the monster’s skull, point first.
Impaling Leap! You take a running jump and plunge your weapon into the body of your opponent killing them instantly!
Headbanger! Roxy detonates the head of her opponent with her magic!
The priest howled, his dire head still screaming with Vandal’s sword embedded through the crown of its skull, and into its chest. He wrenched it to the left, then the right, before pulling it free. Then he hacked the still gurgling head off entirely for good measure and stabbed the body a couple of times just to be thorough, grunting with satisfaction when it didn’t so much as twitch.
Roxy was crouched by one of the cultists, looking askance at his blood-soaked face.
“What is it, Roxy?” said, Vandal as he wiped his blade on the tattered robe of one of the cultists.
“I thought I recognised him, and I do. This is their assassin,” she said.
“Is he going to live?”
Roxy muttered something and healed the man.
“I don’t mean to be rude, darling but are you crazy?” Vandal asked.
“Possibly but I think we should tie him up and take him to the guard, don’t you?”
“Or just kill him? A nice finishing move for the experience,” Vandal suggested.
“Don’t go full murder hobo on me, will you, Vandal?” Roxy grinned.
“I can’t promise that if I’m close to levelling up and some orcs,” Vandal retorted. “But seriously, I’m beat. Want to spell it out for me like I’m a toddler?”
“Think about it, he can prove that what we say went on here is the truth. We can interrogate him and find out about his friends,” Roxy said, as she bound the unconscious man's wrists behind his back. It wasn’t hard, the cultists had an entire wall display of restraints, from leather and chain, to full on manacles. The assassin got the manacles.
“Right. And perhaps there’s rewards for that anyway, not to mention opening up more quest lines.”
“Now you're thinking. Maximise our rewards for all this hard work. I like the attitude,” said, Roxy. She pointed toward the altar. “Are you going to rescue her then?”
“Shit, yeah,” Vandal said, with a blush. He’d forget his sword next. He found a cloak and wrapped the delirious woman up in it. “You should probably heal her.”
Roxy shook her head, “I want the watch to see how badly she was treated. She’ll live and she doesn’t want to wake up and see this nightmare of carnage anyway.”
The assassin was groaning as he slowly came around, partly because of his prior injuries and partly because Roxy had slapped him repeatedly to wake him up. She dragged him to his feet, and threatened him with a spear she’d grabbed, forcing him to stumble along beside Vandal who was carrying the sacrificial victim.
“I’ll take your word for it. How about we steal some transport and sneak away then? They’re supposed to have a delivery entrance, right?”
It wasn’t hard to find the regular exit, since only one corridor leading from the temple area was big enough to fit the huge barrels of wine. On the other side of the doors, there was a covered wagon and a horse still harnessed to it. Vandal guessed the cultists had arrived from town, bringing their sacrifice with them.
Placing the girl gently in the back of the wagon, on some blankets, he lifted the assassin in, and knocked him out again with one punch.
Roxy sighed and he shrugged. “What? He tried to kill my girlfriend. He has a lot more coming than that.”
“Girlfriend, eh? Keep talking like that mister, and you’ll be doing a lot more coming too,” Roxy giggled.
“Yes, my darling girlfriend,” Vandal said, fluttering his eyelashes at her as he got in the driver’s seat.
“Oh, so manly. So, virile. So, very sexy!” Roxy said, with a giggle. “Well, let's get going. Come on,” she said, impatiently, gesturing at him, then the horse.
“Er. I’ve realised that my education is slightly lacking on the matter of horses and wagons. Where’s the autorun button on this thing?”
Roxy laughed, and swapped places with him.
“I’ll teach you, but I’ll have to charge,” she said, as she expertly took the reins.
“Can I get credit for effort?”
“Depends how hard your effort is.”
“Oh, it’ll be hard.”
“I hope so.”
“I think we can say that this proves your suspicions, Vandal,” Captain Myers said, as he surveyed the bloody work they’d done in the lair of the cult.
“Good. I’m glad you seem happy with the work we’ve done to clear out the cult.”
“I’m glad it’s over,” said, Myers.
“It’s not, captain, I’m sorry to say. There are more of them out there, I’m sure of it.
“How can you be sure?” said, Myers.
“The so-called Bishop of Tinshire was boasting about how many were in the cult, when Roxy stabbed him in the wine cellar with the candlestick,” said, Vandal, winking at Roxy over Myer’s shoulder.
“Villains never seem to hold their tongue when they should, it certainly makes my life easier,” said, Myers. “
“Do you think the assassin will talk?”
“I don’t know. I imagine it depends on whether or not he was a devout member of the cult, or more of a paid thug they hired. There are plenty of criminals who’d take a steady job doing wicked things, without having to be a religious zealot,” Myers sighed. “Now, I don’t think we need to detain you any longer. Thank you for dealing with this and rescuing that poor young woman.”
“You’re welcome, captain,” said, Roxy. “I’m only sorry we couldn’t have rooted them out sooner.”
“I would appreciate it if you would stop by tomorrow afternoon. We can give you any portion of the loot you’re entitled to then.”
“Loot? There’s loot?” Roxy asked, trying not to sound excited.
“Yes, the council will give a reward to you for your services, based on the proceeds of the property here. They’ll seize the building and land and contents of course to recover what they can for the victims' families and reward you for your work.”
