Sighing, Jason handed a bag to his lieutenant. “Here are some additional cloaks that you can use to disguise the new undead. I am going to be gone for a few days. I’ll be taking the cultist zombies with me and I’ll leave you with the wolves, molekin, and a few of the player zombies. Continue to waylay players and creatures that pass through the canyon north of town and stockpile the bodies – same orders as before. Try to prioritize finding and killing the Rocs.”
Then another thought occurred to Jason as he considered the odd mole creatures. “Also see whether you can have the molekin expand the cave complex and create passages around the roadway so that our troops can make a quick retreat. The tunnels and the darkness are your allies, so try to be creative with their use.”
“It will be done,” his zombie replied with a nod.
“Perfect.”
With a plan in place, his lieutenant walked back into the darkness, and his form swiftly disappeared from view. A ding suddenly rang out, and Jason glanced at his system notifications, noticing that Frank and Riley had come online. He sent them a quick message to meet him at the dock and then turned back toward the city, a dozen dark forms arrayed behind him. He could only hope that Lord Baen and the ship’s crew wouldn’t look too closely at his new “recruits.”
Nearly half an hour later, Jason had made his way across town and had navigated the winding path down to the docks. The wooden boards of the pier creaked under Jason’s boots, and the muted smell of saltwater was much stronger now. He found Riley and Frank standing near the bottom of the cliff.
“About time!” Frank said as he caught sight of Jason.
“Sorry. I needed to gather some reinforcements before we left,” Jason explained, gesturing at the undead behind him.
“Good thinking,” Riley replied. “Our ship is at the end of the pier.” With that, the group started down the dock.
Their ship was easy to identify – it being the only one with an active crew at this time of night. The vessel itself was unimpressive, its hull marred by wear and the planks crumbling in several places. The name “Marietta” had been painted on the side, the colors faded and cracking badly. Jason noted what appeared to be a few cannons on the ship’s deck, but this vessel was clearly not intended for war.
“It sort of looks like it’s about to sink,” Frank commented. “This is what we’re taking to some mysterious cursed island?”
“Well, if we end up having to swim, you just need to consume a dolphin or something, and you’re set,” Riley replied in a dry tone.
Jason couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw a thoughtful expression flit across Frank’s face. “You know, that’s not a terrible idea,” his friend murmured.
Their conversation was interrupted as Lord Baen limped down the ship’s gangplank and approached them, his cane making a thumping sound against the wooden dock. “Hey there. We have the ship and its crew ready. Who are your friends?” he asked, eyeing the group of minions that lingered behind Jason. Riley and Frank kept silent, letting Jason take the lead.
“Mercenaries,” Jason replied bluntly. “We have no idea what we might find on this island. It seems safe to err on the side of caution.”
“Fair enough. Fair enough,” Lord Baen replied, nodding his head. Then he looked around quizzically. “Where is Eliza? I thought she intended to accompany you.”
A shout suddenly erupted from behind them. “Wait for me,” Eliza shouted, running down the dock. She arrived a moment later, breathless and her chest heaving.
“I made it,” the girl gasped.
Frank chuckled. “Barely. What took you so long? We messaged you a while ago.”
Eliza glanced up, noticing that everyone was watching her. Her gaze immediately dropped to her feet, and her face reddened. “I needed to collect some ingredients before we left,” she said more quietly.
“It is admirable to be prepared,” Lord Baen observed, sparing a smile for the water mage. His attention then turned to a grizzled man that was stepping down from the ship. He walked with a purposeful step, and a scar ran from his eye to his chin. “And here is the captain of our vessel. Captain Razen, these are your guests on this voyage.”
The sailor eyed the group skeptically, running his eyes up and down each person. “Hmph. Useless looking lot. I take it none of you have any sailing experience.”
“Nope,” Frank replied with a shrug.
“Great,” Captain Razen grumbled. “Another bunch of useless landlubbers. There are only a few rules aboard my ship. Stay out of the way of the crew and out of the cargo hold below decks. We’re shipping some animals up the coast, and the last thing we need is you lot sending them into a frenzy. Last but not least, if any of you get sick, you damn sure better make it to the side of the ship, or you’ll be cleaning it up yourself.”
With that, the sailor pivoted and made his way back up to the ship. “What a charmer,” Riley muttered. Eliza nodded at her comment, staring after the man dubiously.
“Well, now that we’re all here and the introductions are out of the way, let’s get this show on the road,” Jason said, gesturing at the boat. His group members nodded and began making their way onboard.
Just as Jason was about to board, Lord Baen grabbed his arm. “Remember our deal,” he urged softly, his eyes suddenly serious. “I need that orb returned to me. The last of my family’s fortune depends on this venture.”
Jason looked at the man, noting that his concern was about recovering the relic – not his son’s disappearance. “I understand the stakes,” he replied evenly, peeling the man’s fingers from his jacket. Suspicion flared in his chest. Something felt off about the noble’s behavior – not that he could do anything about that right away.
He quickly boarded the ship. As the crew hoisted the anchor and unfurled the sails, Jason’s gaze took in the dark cliff face of Falcon’s Hook. He couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. His goal was to retrieve the grimoire and get back to the Twilight Throne as quickly as possible. He had too much riding on this game now to falter in his quest.
Chapter 12 - Unforeseen
Alexion gazed out across the sea of NPCs and players crammed into the keep’s courtyard in The Crystal Reach. The air was filled with the rumble of anxious conversation, more than one person staring at Alexion’s form as he stood on the Keep’s balcony. His gaze shifted to the soldiers on the walls. Their white incandescent wings flapped gently, and their hands clutched at their spears. If this went poorly, he was prepared to take immediate action.
“I think we’re ready,” Caerus spoke from beside Alexion. “Our troops are in position on the walls, and I made certain that a contingent is stationed behind the keep’s gates.”
“This seems like overkill,” Tom said dismissively. He lounged against the banister ringing the balcony. “I don’t see why we bother with this roleplaying nonsense.”
Alexion tamped down on the whisper in the back of his mind, the voice urging him once again to kill Tom. “This game world is run by NPCs,” Alexion replied calmly. “We require control. Therefore, situations like this are necessary – a certain amount of ‘roleplaying’ is necessary.” This earned him a snort from Tom.
Ignoring the player, Alexion stepped forward. With a gesture, each of his soldiers on the walls cast a ray of light into the sky, their beams shining a brilliant gold even in the bright sunlight that shone down on the courtyard. As the rays collided, a rainbow of multi-hued light cascaded through the sky. The crowd watched in fascination, slowly lapsing into silence.
“I have brought you all here today to speak of the events in Vaerwald,” Alexion began, his voice booming over the courtyard.
“I know many of you are aware of what has recently transpired in Vaerwald. Even as the undead attacked the heart of our city – slaying the Lady’s priests and defiling her temple – so too have they struck against a neighboring kingdom. Jason’s undead legion have once again attacked innocent civilians.”
Alexion’s fist slammed down on the stone
banister before him. “The darkness has grown bold, striking unrestrained against our city and our allies. And what do we do? We continue to fight amongst ourselves, slaying our own people.”
Shaking his head, Alexion’s eyes drifted down to his hands where he held the Lady’s golden book. “This is not our god’s will,” he said in a hushed tone.
Raising his eyes, he continued in a stronger voice, “The Lady has urged me to bring us together as a people. Only united can we stand against the darkness that threatens to consume our world. Only by relying on each other can we stave off destruction.”
Alexion saw many heads in the crowd nodding, and one of the townsfolk shouted above the crowd. “We live for the Lady,” he cried. His shout was echoed by several of the other residents.
“I know,” Alexion replied to their cries. “And she has responded to your devotion. She has tasked me with building a special group of soldiers to repel these undead. Starting today, we are creating an elite force of the Lady’s most devout followers. These men and women will be granted the Lady’s blessing and will be our city’s sword.”
Alexion hesitated, watching the crowd carefully. “Today we are creating the Confessors. All those who follow the Lady with fervor and devotion; all those that would stand in the light, come to the Lady’s temple, and you will be tested.
“Together, we shall banish the undead from this world once and for all,” Alexion cried, pumping his fist into the air. At the same time, his soldiers cast another battery of spells, rays of blinding light ricocheting through the air. They fired again and again until motes of multi-hued energy rained down on the crowd.
The response was overwhelming. A roar of approval washed over the courtyard like the peal of thunder, the sound echoing off the crystalline walls of the keep and rebounding through the area. And through the roar, a small smile drifted across Alexion’s lips. The second stage of his plan was complete.
***
Jason stood on the prow of the Marietta, the wind whipping his cloak violently as Alfred rested calmly on the railing. The sun had risen several hours ago, forcing him to send his undead below decks. Sailors bustled around him, working to adjust the ship’s sails. They were a surly bunch and had kept to themselves so far during the trip. Jason had felt their eyes on his group more than once – filled with a hunger and desperation that was disconcerting. He needed to stay alert. He couldn’t afford to trust anyone.
His gaze was now fixed on the line of gray mist in the distance that was slowly growing larger. Captain Razen had indicated that they were nearing the island and the Marietta was now making a beeline for the barrier. The mist hung in a dense wall that stretched out in front of them for miles, and the vapor clung to the surface of the ocean, creating a nearly opaque surface.
“What do you think it is?” Riley asked, approaching Jason from behind and resting her hands on the railing. The wind whipped her blond hair, tendrils dancing around her face.
“I’m not certain,” he murmured. The mist didn’t seem natural, especially during the day and without a cloud in the sky. He suspected magic was at play. Even as this thought occurred to him, the world suddenly stuttered, images overlaying his vision. For a moment he saw double – the sensation eerily similar to what he had experienced back in Peccavi.
Jason’s gaze drifted down to his hands where they rested on the ship’s railing. His dark skin was now dry and wrinkled, worn down over the centuries. The formerly crude wooden banister had also changed, and now smooth obsidian rested beneath his fingers.
Even as Jason struggled to understand what he was seeing, a voice shouted from behind him. “Father, we are nearing the island.” Jason glanced up, noting a landmass with a single enormous stone pillar that loomed above the far northern end of the island. The stone had been carved to resemble a snake’s head, its mouth gaping toward the sky.
“Oh shit! Get down,” the same voice suddenly screamed.
A crashing sound rebounded through the air, followed closely by a thunderous roar. Jason whirled and discovered a raging fire whipping across the deck of the ship. Undead men and women had been consumed by the flames, shrill screams erupting from their throats. One skeletal sailor fell overboard, his body quickly disappearing into the dark waves that crashed against the hull.
A wall of mist loomed behind them, the outline of several other vessels swiftly emerging from the fog. Even at this distance, Jason could see the enemy crews rushing across their decks. Before he could react, a crash echoed in the distance, and another plume of fire erupted across the deck with a blast that shook the boards beneath their feet – tossing several crew members overboard.
Thrown off balance by the force of the explosion, Jason stumbled and landed heavily against the wooden banister. He could feel a muted pain radiate outward from his stomach. As he lurched back from the railing, his hands felt at his abdomen in search of the source. His fingers came away covered in clotted black blood, and he could see more of the dark matter staining a jagged piece of the railing beside him.
A hand grabbed him roughly, and the pale white eyes of a young man met his. A jagged scar ran across the man’s cheek, making him seem older at first glance. Although he didn’t recognize the young man, Jason somehow understood that this was his son Noah. He reflexively hid his injury, forcing himself to stand up straight. With a hesitant hand, Jason patted the package nestled within his robes and sighed in relief as his fingers traced the rectangular outline.
“We need to hurry. The humans are coming,” Noah said in a frantic voice. Amid the chaos and destruction that littered the deck of the ship, the man motioned to a smaller lifeboat hanging along the ship’s port side. “We need to make it to the island.”
“How could the humans have made it through the mists? The guardian…” Jason replied in a hoarse voice as he watched the approaching vessels.
His son’s eyes locked with his, his gaze filled with determination. “It doesn’t matter now. We have to make it to the temple.”
Jason’s vision stuttered again, and he was abruptly standing back on the Marietta. He stumbled slightly, disoriented by the sudden change in perspective, and Riley caught his arm. “Are you okay?” she asked, concern in her voice. “You zoned out there for a second.”
Jason glanced frantically back at the deck of the Marietta. The flames were gone, and his gaze was met by the bored and puzzled expressions of the human sailors. He shook his head to try to clear the last vestiges of the vision, glancing at Alfred where he rested calmly on the railing – his eyes lingering on Jason’s form.
“I-I’m fine. I had some sort of vision,” he said slowly. “It felt similar to what I experienced in Pecavvi. I think it was from the perspective of a Keeper.”
Riley’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“The ship was being attacked. The crew were all undead and one of them… I think he was my son? There was so much fire.” The vision had been so vivid that it was difficult to believe that it hadn’t been real.
“Interesting,” Riley said, drumming her fingers against her lips. “That must mean we are on the right track at least. It seems like compelling evidence.”
“I guess so,” Jason said. “They were fleeing from a group of other ships – they mentioned that humans were attacking them.”
“Do you know why?”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t clear. I did get the sense that they were fleeing to this temple for some reason. I guess maybe we’ll find out more as we continue forward.”
The pair heard a groan from behind them and turned to discover Frank tottering across the deck, his face looking a little green. “Why would they add seasickness to a game?” he muttered as he approached, leaning heavily on the railing.
Eliza stood behind Frank, watching him with a concerned expression. “I tried giving him a potion that cures poison. I don’t have much to work with in-game.”
“It didn’t work,” Frank groaned, closing his eyes.
“Ahh, I see you are all
up and about,” Captain Razen remarked, approaching the group near the prow. He gestured at the wall of mist which had grown noticeably larger, towering over the smaller ship. “We’re about to hit the line of mist. The island we seek is somewhere inside based on the information Lord Baen provided.”
Jason eyed the mist, recalling his vision. “What weapons do we have onboard, Captain?”
The sailor rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “This is primarily a trade ship, so we aren’t loaded for bear. There are a couple cannons on the port and starboard sides of the ship.”
“Cannons?” Riley asked, curiosity lacing her voice.
“Yes,” the Captain replied curtly, glancing over his shoulder at the weapons. “They fire high-density mana crystals. We’ve got a few dozen rounds of fire-based ammunition.”
Jason’s eyes widened slightly, part of his vision beginning to make sense. The flames had likely been caused by the cannon fire of the enemy ships. “I think you should have your crew prepare the cannons,” he said slowly.
At the Captain’s confused glanced, Jason continued, “Ships have been disappearing near this island. I think that mist might have something to do with it. Better to be prepared than to be caught flat-footed.”
“Aye, your reasoning is sound,” the man replied grudgingly. Then he stepped away, barking orders at his crew.
“You think something is hiding in that mist, don’t you?” Riley asked, watching Jason.
“Like what exactly?” Eliza wondered softly, an alarmed expression on her face.
Jason just shook his head. “I’m not sure, but I think we should be ready for anything.”
Evolution Page 17
