Necromancers, Demons & Kings

by LitRPG Freaks

  Add that to the fact Godfrey wanted Bishop to hunt down and bring Winston back to Weston for a trial involving treasonous acts that never even happened, the game play was now even more difficult than before. On the bright side, all the half-breeds faced the same dilemma there.

  “Fearless leader, you with us or what?” Jimmy said, as he gave Bishop’s leg a gentle kick.

  “Yeah, sorry,” he answered. “What were you whining about again?”

  Jimmy rolled his eyes, settling back into the couch at their guild house. “I told you he wasn’t listening. Sitting over there, musing over those damn journals.”

  “They’re important and they might help us find Winston.”

  “You think he’s in Burning Glade somewhere?” Maverick asked. “That is where we have to go next. It seems likely enough.”

  “He’s with Tavin if nothing else and that’s where she said to meet her next.” Bishop tucked Godfrey’s journal in his bags and rubbed his forehead. “So we’re good for the instance? How much time do you think we have left until we log out?”

  “You want to go now?” Jimmy asked.

  “Why not? Better than sitting here doing nothing.”

  Sitting around was making him nervous, and he was tired of being so anxious all the time. Looking over his shoulder for Valen was bad enough but now, if he wasn’t careful, King Godfrey would be sending the royal guard after him and any other half-breed he deemed in league with the traitorous Winston. It was only a matter of time before he proclaimed Tavin a traitor, too, and sent people after her. Bishop would not be bringing Winston in. He knew what had really happened that day.

  “We might want to think about moving our home, too,” he suggested. “Or buying a second, smaller one somewhere Godfrey’s royal guards won’t come after us.”

  “And where do you propose we do that?”

  “Your territories,” he told Jimmy and Maverick. “You have housing there?”

  Jimmy’s face scrunched. “I think I saw a few in the capital.”

  “And there was a tiny neighborhood back in the shifter territories, not anything fancy like this, though,” she warned him. “You think it’s going to come down to that?”

  “I can’t bring Winston in for questioning.” When he asked Calista and the others what happened with their story lines, all they were told was Winston had disappeared and they were simply to keep an eye out for him and deliver any news of sightings. Only the half-breeds were threatened with imprisonment or death, go figure. “And I’m sure none of you want to bust any of us out of the dungeons.”

  “I don’t know, could be fun,” Calista said with a smile.

  “We can worry about that later. Let’s go do an instance. To Dead Man’s Bay?” Jimmy proclaimed as he jumped off the couch, his fist thrust in the air.

  “If we do that one today, then we can do the other in the morning. Knock them both out and head on towards Burning Glade.” Maverick motioned for Jimmy to get moving. “We can use the instance menu to get there. Whenever you all are ready. Let’s go kill some Blood Sea Cultists.”

  Bishop joined them in front of the guild house and brought up the instance finder menu. He scrolled through it to find the Dead Man’s Bay and selected it for a ten-man run. A prompt appeared before him, as did the others, asking what his role would be. He selected DPS and watched as a timer countdown appeared in the upper corner of his vision.

  “This better not be as insane as the dungeon was,” he said, as the timer counted down, thirty seconds left to go. “I’m not sure I could handle that again.”

  Calista shrugged, fingering the mace at her hip. “I dunno. I thought it was fun.”

  “Your definition of fun needs some serious tweaking,” he told her. “One of these days, I’ll show you what real fun is like.”

  “Hmm, sounds intriguing.” She sidled closer as the timer hit zero and Bishop’s whole body seemed to catch fire right before he was transported to a dock. One by one, Calista, Maverick, Jimmy, and the rest of the gang set down beside him. More prompts appeared before him, quests to complete during the instance.

  Accepted Quest: Destroy the Flag Ship. Burn the main ship of the cultists to ash.

  Accepted Quest: The Captain’s Head. Find the Captain of the cultists’ fleet and relieve him of his head. He has no more use for it.

  Accepted Quest: Break their lines. Kill thirty cultists and send their bodies down to feed the fish.

  “Wait, ships?” Giles groaned, and he ran to the end of the dock where an NPC elf awaited them. “Damn it. I don’t want to go on the ships!”

  “They’re not moving too much,” Bishop said, grimacing. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Sure, I’ll be fine as I’m puking my guts out over the side and you all are laughing at me. This is a nightmare. Can’t I just stay here and watch as you all rain down destruction and death? I might be able to reach a few of them from out here.”

  Jimmy lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine and, besides, you can’t actually puke in game, remember?”

  Bishop stepped up to the NPC at the dock and the man bowed his head in greeting. “Heroes, you have come to stop the cultists from taking over our shoreline. I thank you, but I fear the trip may be futile.”

  “We’ll take our chances. How do we get out there?”

  The man pointed to a small rowboat bashing against the dock with each wave. “I will take you to the first ship but, from there, I’m afraid you will have to find your own way. Do you accept what little aid I offer in the hopes of stopping this evil from spreading?”

  Bishop held out his hand and took the man’s. “I do.”

  “Then let us go, my friends. We have ships to burn.”

  For a split second, Bishop gulped as the man turned and he thought they were really going to have to row out to the ships in that tiny dingy, but then his feet left the ground and he shimmered out of view from the dock and landed on the dock of one of the ships. Glancing right and then left, he saw at least ten ships altogether, the ones near them attached by planks nailed across the decks so they could walk easily from one to the other.

  “Alright,” he whispered, fingers resting on the bowstring as he waited for the cultists to realize they were on deck. “The Flag Ship is near the end of the line towards the right and the captain is in the central ship, three to the left of where we’re standing now.”

  “Do we try to split up?” Benji asked.

  “We could try. One group takes Benji and the other would have an extra tank.”

  “I say we stick together,” Jimmy argued. “You know how well our plans work out when we try to split up.”

  “Oh, come on,” Maverick said, laughing. “It could be fun. I call dibs on the captain’s head.”

  Calista cursed. “Can I tag along?”

  Bishop smirked. “Figures. If you two are together, you don’t need Benji. How about me, Benji, Giles, Sorgon, and Shamus hit the Flag Ship? That leaves Maverick, Calista, Jimmy, and Arthur for the captain. Give you guys a bit more oomph since you’re taking on the boss.”

  As they nodded in assent, Giles was the only one clutching his weapon firmly in his hand and staring straight ahead as the ship rocked beneath their feet. Each time his eyes darted to the water, he quickly looked away and muttered under his breath.

  “Giles? Can you handle staying here and picking off cultists?” Bishop suggested.

  “No, I can do this.” His voice betrayed him though, shaking with fear.

  “Seriously, stay here and pick off any you see. If we need help, we’ll shoot you a message,” Bishop said. “Really, take it easy on this one. There’s no hordes of undead, so I think we’ll be fine.”

  He sagged and offered up a tiny smile. “Thanks, as long as you’re sure.”

  “I like our chances. Good luck all.” Bishop put his hand in and nine more joined his. “Don’t die if you can help it. First one back wins?”

  Calista barked a laugh. “Oh, you’re so on.”

&
nbsp; They broke apart and Bishop led his group to the right side of the ship as Calista led the others to the left. He saw the cultists pacing around on the deck of the ship and wondered if he could reach them from here. He drew back with his Increased Swift Bow and fired at the baddie pacing on the quarter deck. The shot hit home and Sorgon chuckled as he rushed forward to finish him off, pulling two more with him. Behind him, Bishop heard Calista’s battle cry join Arthur’s, and Maverick’s fierce growl. Making this one a contest amped him up, and Bishop moved to the second ship.

  A cultist sprinted up from below deck and punched Bishop square in the face, throwing him off balance and stunning him. Benji was there with a heal, and a blue glow swirled around the hunter’s body, boosting his health as he unsheathed his dagger and Slashed at the cultist. He threw him back onto the deck and pulled back on his Execute, finishing him off. He walked around the dock, but could not go down below or into the captain’s cabin. Once the ship was cleared of cultists, their tally already up by ten from the other group killing them too, they moved to the next ship.

  Giles was still planted on the first vessel, bow in hand, but his eyes were watchful so Bishop felt safe leaving him on his own.

  “Bishop! Air cover!” Shamus yelled, as he vanished out of sight.

  Bishop pulled back, then released Rain of Thorns on the five cultists Shamus had pulled with a stab each. Sorgon leapt in the midst of them all and attacked with two daggers. They were an impeccable team, even Benji keeping up on the heals without draining his mana too badly. Bishop was glad he had decided to stay on as a healer so they had at least one in their tank heavy group.

  “There’s a chest up here,” Shamus announced, once the second ship was cleared. He opened it and Bishop glanced at the prompt hovering in front of his face.

  You have received Pitch and Unlit Torch. Use these to set the Flag Ship alight and get off before it sinks.

  “Who wants to do the pyro honors?” Bishop asked. There were only three more ships in between theirs and the flag ship. A look at his quest tracker informed him that the Captain was still alive, but they would have to hurry if they wanted to beat the other group back in time.

  “I say you do it. We can hold them off and you can have at it. Wonder where you have to set it alight?” Sorgon wondered.

  “Guess we’ll find out.”

  And three ships later, they did.

  Bishop stood at the edge of the dock, staring across to the other ship. There was no plank to get him there, though. “Seriously? I don’t have to swim, do I?”

  “No, there’s got to be another trick to this,” Shamus said, turning his face towards the rigging. “Ha, and there it is. Ready for a swing, Bishop?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Hanging from the rigging was a rope, glowing. He was going to have to climb the rigging first to get to it and then swing himself over to the other ship à la Indiana Jones. Slinging his bow over his body, he started his ascent. When he was within range of the rope, he grabbed it, and a prompt appeared.

  To swing across, simply push off the ledge and release when you are over the other ship.

  “Sounds easy enough,” he muttered, but there always seemed to be a catch of some sort. Gripping the rope tight in his hands—Shamus, Benji, and Sorgon watching from below—, he lifted his feet off the rigging and his body swung out over the open water. He looked down, trying to time his fall right. But he missed it and forgot to let go of the rope. He swung back over the other ship again, unable to catch hold of the rigging.

  “Bishop just jump!” Benji yelled. “I’ll be able to heal you!”

  Gritting his teeth as he swayed back and forth like a pendulum, Bishop pushed off the mast of their ship to regain some momentum. And with a yell, he let go and waited for the impact of water.

  Instead, his feet hit wood planks and he rolled to a stop. Shaking his head from the fall, he looked around, wondering how he was going to get back now.

  “Get going,” Sorgon yelled. “Looks like we can follow you!”

  “Alright, time to set this bastard on fire.”

  He pulled up his quest log to check the precise location where he was supposed to start the fire. There were three places but, first, he had to light his torch. He combined the torch with the pitch and looked around for a brazier or another torch. One flickered near the door leading down into the hold. He held the torch there until it caught and ducked down into the bowels of the ship. A thud told him Shamus or Sorgon made it over, and a second thud said the other had followed.

  Creeping through the ship, Bishop took his time so as not to come across any cultist unprepared. After a couple of minutes, he eventually reached the stores. Several barrels of rum were set in the corner. That was his cue.

  Holding the torch to the stack, it eventually caught fire, and Bishop rushed away as the flames spread through the wooden planks.

  He sped backwards, eyes searching for his second mark. Here it was, the stash of blankets and other very flammable materials. The fire caught those too, and Bishop glanced at the map for the third and final location. Up above, shouts and the clashing of metal told him a fight had broken out. There were cultists on this ship after all and they would most likely be coming for him. He needed to hurry, especially with the heat and smoke growing with every passing second. One more spot, he only needed one more spot.

  “There!” he exclaimed, and he sprinted through the cargo hold to a collection of old tomes and parchment. He tossed the torch against the shelves and the effect was immediate. Fire surrounded him and Bishop had to move quickly as the ship groaned and panicked yells echoed down to him.

  “Bishop! Let’s go!” Sorgon yelled.

  He spun around, coughing and squinting as smoke burned his eyes and made it difficult to breathe. Finding the stairs, he staggered towards them and clambered up. Bodies littered the deck of the ship and he sucked in fresh air for a few seconds until it too became polluted with smoke as the ship was engulfed in flames. Shamus and Sorgon waved at him from the other ship. The heat from the fire and the smoke were damaging his health the longer he stayed. Sorgon pointed up and Bishop glimpsed the rope glowing from the rigging.

  Cursing with each step as he fought to breathe and not fall to the planks, Bishop climbed up, reaching out to the rope until his hand brushed against it. He snagged it… but slipped from the rigging.

  “Bishop!” Shamus yelled, as Bishop’s body swung out from the burning ship.

  Bishop had a moment to wonder how this was going to work out, when he landed with a splash in the water between the other two ships. The cold water seeped through his gear and he shivered as he broke the surface, gasping for air. Being in the water meant he was away from the fire, and that was better than nothing, he supposed. Three heads appeared at the railing. “You alright down there?”

  He moved his arms, keeping himself afloat. “Peachy! Mind throwing me a line?”

  They laughed as a rope sailed over the edge of the railing and he grabbed it. Grunting, they hauled him up the side of the ship and dragged him over the railing to sprawl out soaking wet on the boards.

  “That was fun,” he grumbled.

  “On the bright side, we set the ship on fire before they killed the captain,” Shamus informed him, as he hoisted him to his feet.

  Bishop wrung out his jerkin the best he could and shook his hair like a wet dog, spraying them with the cold water. “Then, we should book it back to Giles so we can win, right?”

  As the burning ship creaked and groaned, burning behind them, the four players sprinted back across the ships. None of the cultists respawned and they were one away from their needed amount to finish all the quests.

  They were stepping back onto the main ship when the last quest was completed for killing the captain. Giles’ face brightened to see them return.

  “Why is Bishop soaked?” he asked, holding out his now wet arms after Bishop bear hugged him.

  “I mistimed my jump,” he said, wr
inging more water from his clothes as they waited. “Kill anything while we were away, dear?”

  “A few. They crept out of the hold on this ship when you left.” He motioned to the bodies near the quarter deck. “Just three, but at least I did something, right?”

  “We all have our issues. Not a big deal,” Bishop reassured him.

  They waited, talking about the mission and trying to decide what the captain was like, when singing graced their years, boisterous and horribly off key. Maverick marched across the planks, followed by the others. Arthur was the last carrying a head in his hand, which he thrust into the air as they finished the last verse of a drinking song played in one of the taverns in Weston.

  “I take it you were successful,” Bishop said.

  “If you mean we killed the captain and all his minions, then yes, we were quite successful,” Calista replied. “And judging from the smoke behind you, I would say you were too.” She hugged him then flinched back. “Why are you cold and wet?”

  “Let’s just say we burned the Flag Ship, and leave it at that.”

  “Bishop fell in the water,” Shamus added in an undertone.

  Calista chuckled. “How did you manage that?”

  “Doesn’t matter. All that counts is that we made it back first. Time to turn in everyone. How do we get back to the dock?”

  “We could take your approach and go for a swim,” Jimmy said.

  Bishop laughed with them all as he approached his friend who stood right at the opening in the ship’s railing. “You first,” he said, and he shoved him over. With a yelp of surprise, Jimmy tumbled backwards into the water, coming up sputtering curses. “How’s the water?”

  “You bastard,” he yelled, smiling. “Actually, it’s not so bad.”

  “Bye Jimmy!” Maverick waved, and she stepped away from the railing with Bishop.