Red, Lila, and Mace were right behind the two tanks, their daggers and swords flashing almost too quickly to see. Others squeezed in behind them and slowly the slavers were pushed back. One by one they fell, until only a handful were left. They tried to flee up the stairs, but Shari and the other archers rained death on them as soon as they were high enough to target safely. None made it to the top.
Mace took the lead up the stairs. The others were still NPCs and he didn’t want to risk them falling to an ambush. He motioned for quiet as he neared the top, hearing the heavy breathing of several bodies in the corridor. Activating his stealth ability, he hugged the wall and crouched low before taking the top step and rounding the corner.
There were ten Black Flame troops in the hall. Including two archers and a mage, whom he assumed were the same that shot from the windows a few minutes earlier. In the back of the group was a woman, loudly whispering orders.
“First one around that corner dies. We take as many of them with us as we can, boys!”
Mace crept past the two tanks who were preparing to move to the top of the stairs. Then he weaved his way past the fighters behind them. A few shivered, or looked around, feeling his presence, but none were able to break his stealth. He positioned himself behind the leader. She was wearing leather armor that shone with a rainbow sheen as if it were made of fishscale or something similar. Mace decided that it was too pretty to ruin, so rather than stab her in the back, he leaned forward and clamped his left hand over her mouth while he put the soul dagger in his right hand against her throat. He pushed the blade just hard enough to draw blood, and he could feel her body go rigid as she felt the pain.
“Tell your people to drop their weapons,” he whispered. When she nodded slightly, he moved the hand across her mouth up to her forehead. The pressure of the blade didn’t lessen one bit.
“Change of plans. Drop your weapons. We surrender.” She growled at her people. They all turned to face her, eyes wide and jaws agape as they took in the drow holding a knife to her throat.
“Screw that!” one of the tanks said. “They’ll kill us all. I ain’t goin’ down without a fight.”
Mace sent Shari a message. “Tell Callahan and the dwarf to go in ten seconds.”
Then he spoke to the tank. “I’ve killed every single member of your guild that I’ve met since coming to the surface. That’s about a two hundred and fifty of you now. I’ll give you the same choice I gave some of your comrades. Drop your weapons and answer a few questions, and we’ll give you a quick death. Otherwise…”
He pushed the dagger point a tiny bit further into the woman’s neck, and the magic activated. She screamed as her soul began to drain from her. After a couple seconds, Mace pulled the blade away.
“You chose death the day you joined Black Flame. There are good and bad ways to die,” he growled, as the blade screamed in his mind for more.
The tank opened his mouth to reply but the words never came out. One of Shari’s arrows burst from his throat, causing his mouth to spew blood rather than words. The others barely had time to turn before Callahan and the others began to cut them down. With the tank down there was an opening for Stonehand to push through as the orc engaged the second tank. Red followed behind her employer. Lila appeared behind the remaining tank and slit his throat. Callahan was already leaping over them as Lila rode his corpse to the floor.
Mace still held the leader at the back of the group. She yelled and cursed as she witnessed her people being slaughtered. The slavers were used to easy fights. They attacked villages and soft targets with overwhelming force. Their skills weren’t up to the fight that had found them.
The last of the fighters fell when Stonehand’s axe removed his leg at the knee. Red rammed a sword blade into his mouth and pinned his skull to the floor to stop the screaming.
“What is your name?” Mace asked the woman, who’d gone silent. He could feel her pulse racing through the tip of the blade pressed against her neck.
“I am nobody. A dead woman,” she replied. Indeed, her voice sounded dead. Her tone was flat and held no emotion.
“Fine, Nobody. Where can I find the Black Flame headquarters in Graf?” he inquired.
“I cannot say. I swore an oath.”
Mace rolled his eyes. So did Shari. This whole oath-bound thing was getting old. Before he could ask her anther question, she took a deep breath, saying, “I die unbroken.” before lunging her head forward and down, driving Mace’s dagger into her artery before he even had time to react.
He flexed the muscles of his arm to withdraw the weapon as quickly as he could, but the dagger itself seemed to prevent it. The soul dagger drank its fill, sharing the benefit with its master.
“Dammit!” he cursed as he let her empty corpse drop to the floor.
His UI, which he had been ignoring all evening, lit up with new notifications.
Alert! You have captured an enemy stronghold!
Maintain control of the stronghold for ten minutes to claim ownership.
You have captured an enemy stronghold.
Experience points: 5,000 Your Reputation with the Black Flame has decreased 500. Your status is: Reviled
Your Reputation with the Black Flame has decreased -500.
Level Up! You are now Level 44
You have received one attribute point
Confused, Mace mentally clicked on the notification about the stronghold capture. The timer appeared prominently on the screen, counting down toward nine minutes. But the details text was what he was interested in. As far as he knew, the Black Flame hadn’t owned Port Bjurstrom, and therefore their elimination shouldn’t have counted as a capture.
Looking at the details, he saw that the ‘stronghold’ was the warehouse, which the Black Flame had indeed taken as their own. And he’d left his wyvern there, so apparently the system had counted that as ‘occupying’ and maintaining control. As he thought it over, he realized that he and Lila hadn’t captured the Darktsone mine until the guards outside were killed as well. Which probably meant that all the Black Flame members in town had either been killed or fled.
Shari helped Lila loot the corpses as Mace thanked the fighters for their assistance. When he reached Stonehand, the dwarf looked uncomfortable. Mace asked “Is something wrong? Are you concerned about your cousin’s warehouse? I’ll return it to you if you like.”
Stonehand shook his head.
“Nah. I’ve no wish to sit about babysittin’ boxes and killin’ wharf rats. But, well…” He paused and took a deep breath, not making eye contact. “I ain’t never asked for no favor in me long life. But I need ta ask one o’ ye right now. And it don’t sit right with me.”
Mace leaned back. He thought he knew what the old weaponsmaster wanted.
“Maybe I can save you the trouble. We’re about to sail to Graf. I expect at least one of these slavers had a way to deliver a message about our attack. So they’ll be expecting us. We know there were recently between one and two hundred soldiers of the Black Flame in Graf. If you’d be up for joining us, we could use two highly skilled fighters like yourselves. It would be you doing me a favor if you’d accompany us.”
Red laughed aloud and Stonehand eyed the drow in front of him.
“Yer smarter than ye look, drow.” He grinned and offered his hand. “I’d be pleased to do ya this lil favor.”
They all retired to the Purple Mushroom, where Delilah was still entertaining the crew of the Sea Sprite. As the evening moved toward dawn, more and more townsfolk appeared to join in the celebration as word spread. Soon they had expanded out into the street, and vendors were showing up with fresh baked bread, meats on a stick, and other items likely to sell well amidst drunken revelry.
Mace and his group mingled with the townsfolk. Getting to know them and sharing stories. An hour before dawn, Captain Jorin called his crew together and made for the docks. Mace and Shari tracked down Delilah.
“What do we owe you for this fine celebration? And all the r
ooms?” Shari asked.
“Ha! You’ve run up quite the tab tonight, my darlings!”
Delilah winked at Mace and was surprised when Shari didn’t bristle. Less sure of herself now, she said, “Let me see… ten kegs, every bit of food in my kitchen, four dozen bottles of rum…” She ticked off items on her fingers, doing the math in her head. She expected the dark and light elves in front of her to begin to sweat as the tally mounted. Instead they just stood there patiently waiting.
“On the other hand, you did just free our lovely town from a bad influence. Those slaver bastards had been trying to force me to pay a protection tax. So you’ve saved us quite a bit. Let’s call it… one hundred gold.”
Shari smiled and produced the requested sum. “Thank you for your hospitality. We’ll be heading to Graf now, but if we stop here on the way back, I hope you’ll have us back.”
Delilah looked shocked at the lack of haggling. One hundred gold was a significant sum for NPCs. Yes, of course. You are welcome here anytime. And thank you for all you’ve done.” She recovered by the end and bowed deeply, giving Mace an eyeful. Shari ignored it and turned away. Mace winked at the innkeeper and followed his girlfriend out the door.
When he joined her outside, she said, “Lila says we looted nearly two hundred gold from the slavers. In actual cash. Not to mention the weapons, armor, potions…”
Mace chuckled. “I wondered why you didn’t blink at her bill.”
Shari shrugged as they resumed walking toward the dock, with Layne and Lila just ahead. “You said the others who participated in the fight are going to receive shares of whatever’s in the warehouse. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to let her benefit as well. And it’s not like money will be an issue for us in the near future.”
Mace grinned. “Heart of a wyvern, that’s you!”
They proceeded to board the Sea Sprite, then retired to the captain’s cabin where they logged out.
Chapter 14
We’re Going Down, Down, Down
Griff and Lisa logged back into the game early the next morning. Their trading session with the orcs had gone better than expected. The clan had a use for almost everything they’d looted from their fights. Meat for their cookfires, furs for clothing and armor, teeth and claws to be used as weapons or decoration. The orcs liked to pierce their bodies and their tusks with shiny or symbolic items.
At the end of trading and the celebration, they were shown to an empty hut where they could sleep. As Meg, Jo, and Leroy laid out bedrolls on the floor, with Jo placing hers in between the others, Griff and Lisa had sat in a corner and logged out to sleep in the real world.
They’d confirmed with Peabody that there had been no sign of Evan, then fixed a quick meal. Lisa turned in, but Griff took a bit of time to check over and recalibrate both control panels before turning in himself. The glitch when he’d tried to log in that morning had scared him more than he’d let on.
Well rested and back in the game, they joined the others for a breakfast of bacon and eggs cooked on heated rocks placed in the fire. Griff thought they were the best he’d ever tasted. Something about campfire food really does just make it better.
Their guide joined them as they finished the meal. “I will show you to the dungeon. It is not far.”
They gathered their gear and followed the scout northward in the general direction of the waterfall. On their way out of the camp, they passed through a cleared area with several posts stuck in the ground. Each post was carved and decorated with items like feathers, claws, and knives or arrows.
“What is this place?” Meg asked.
The scout paused and looked around.
“This is our burial ground,” he growled quietly. “We have lost many since coming down from the mountain. The dark ones pursued us until we beat them back, but every few months they return in small groups to try to steal food or weapons.”
“Dark ones?” Lisa asked.
“Hobgoblins, goblins, trolls, even orcs who have chosen a dark path. Servants of bloodthirsty gods.” The scout laid a hand on one of the posts and bowed his head. “Each attack claims one or more of us. We do not breed quickly. Eventually there will be too few of us to hold them off. But we have made a home here. So we fight.”
Before Griff’s party could ask more questions, he moved on at a quick pace. When they reached the waterfall, he turned and followed the cliff face about a mile to the east. The scout stopped and pointed. Cut into the cliff face was a jagged opening about a meter wide and three meters tall. Just inside the opening was the swirling purple plane of a dungeon entrance. A large boulder just outside sported the faintly glowing symbol for “Life” that indicated a binding stone.
Before departing, the scout saluted them with a fist to his chest. “May you fight well. And if necessary, die well. We will await your return.” He then turned and began to jog back toward the camp.
Griff took a moment to explain to the new immortals about a binding stone. They each placed their hand on it and bound their souls to the stone so that should they die inside the dungeon, they would respawn there rather than back in their village or at the orc camp where they’d slept. Griff wasn’t sure whether the hut they’d slept in counted as an inn or not.
“Okay, mates. A few things.” Griff checked his shield and axe as he spoke. “I can tell ye from personal experience that dying is unpleasant.”
He grimaced, then rolled his eyes as Lisa added, “Especially when ya get eaten by fuzzy bunnies.”
“Moving on… I know yer instinct is gonna be to run if yer in the thick of things and nearly dead. But runnin’ might get the rest o’ us killed. Hang in and do yer part, and we might get lucky. If ye die, you’ll find yerself standin’ right here, mostly nekkid. Just run back inside and find us. Yer gear will be waitin’ for ye where ye fell.”
He looked at Leroy. “Don’t try ‘n heal every scratch. Save yer mana for when heals be really needed. Yer focus should be on keepin’ me alive. As long as I have the enemy engaged, the rest of ye can be hittin’ ‘em and killin’ ‘em. But if I die, then you’ll all follow soon after. Fer the ladies, if ya see them get down near fifty percent, heal ‘em back up. And don’t be favorin’ Meg there cuz ya think it might earn ya a kiss later. She ain’t gonna wanna kiss ye with my foot up yer arse.”
Leroy blushed as Griff grinned and the ladies laughed quietly. “I got it. No wasting mana. Keep you alive. No kissing.”
With that, Griff said, “Let’s go,” and led the way through the dungeon gate. Inside, he found a small natural cave with a lit torch flickering on one wall. The torch burned with a sickly green flame. The walls seemed naturally formed, no evidence of tool work visible. There was only a single exit from the room, which led to a stone corridor that sloped downward. Griff could see the corridor was lit with the same torches, casting their greenish tint onto everything.
They assumed their normal marching order, and Griff led the way down. Just about ten paces into the corridor, he halted as he heard a rustling sound. A moment later, a green-tinted greyish ball of armor rolled toward them. Oddly, though it was moving up-slope, it seemed to be picking up speed.
Griff raised his shield and leaned forward, bracing himself as it approached. The ball struck his shield with loud clang and pushed him backward. He managed to keep his feet, but the others behind him had to scatter to either side to keep from being knocked down themselves.
The ball unwound into a pill bug, or what Griff thought of as a roly-poly bug. He’d played with them as a kid. One touched them and they would roll into a little armored ball and stay that way until they thought the coast was clear.
But this one was the size of small car when rolled up. As it unfurled, Griff could see it had seven legs on each side of its body, with two long antennae on its head. Its eyes were a dead black, and it had a pair of wicked looking mandibles. Which it was now using to try and bite Griff’s leg. He shoved at the thing with his shield, but it didn’t budge. A blow from his one-handed axe barely p
ut a chink in the tough armor that covered its head.
The monster pushed at Griff again, attempting to get under his shield to bite at his shins. Lisa moved to its side and began to slash at the armor with all her might. Meg did the same with her halberd. Neither managed to penetrate the thick outer armor.
Jo cast a fireball at the thing, aiming low in hopes of burning its unarmored legs. This had slightly more success, as two of its left legs were scorched, and it backed off for a moment, limping and chittering in pain. As Griff caught his breath, Leroy hit him with a small heal to compensate for the minor damage he’d taken by absorbing the hits on his shield.
Just as the monster charged at him again, Griff planted the bottom of his shield into the dirt to anchor it. This time, when the bug’s mass plowed into him, he was able to hold firm. The shield tilted back a bit, and the bug sort of rode up it like a ramp, trying to get over the top. Griff cracked its face with his axe and the chitin between its eyes cracked slightly. The pill bug moved to retreat, but was slow to get moving as its front three pairs of legs were up in the air on either side of Griff’s shield.
Griff called out. “Meg! I have an idea! Ever see someone change a wagon wheel? Drive your weapon under it and heave it over!”
Thankfully, Meg got the idea and charged the monster with the point of her halberd down. It scraped against stone as she drove it under the monster’s belly and kept pushing. Being a dwarf, her strength combined with leverage finally won out. The creature flipped over onto its side, then continued to roll onto its rounded back. All seven pairs of legs thrashed at the air as it tried to right itself. The chittering became louder and Griff could swear it sounded annoyed.
Jo immediately hit its exposed belly with a fireball. Its skin bubbled and two more of its legs were scorched. Its scream of pain was a high-pitched whine. Her weapon now freed by the creature’s roll, Meg lunged forward and jammed the halberd’s spike into its open maw. The legs immediately stopped moving and the sound ceased as it died.
Survivors Page 32
