Tower of Gates Omnibus

by Paul Bellow

  I pondered the so-called Warp Zone they had talked about and how the first four levels of the game had been closed off to trap Magi Inyontoo. Why had the Four Wizards needed to break out? Nothing in the Tower of Gates made any sort of sense.

  “The new spell might not work,” Aaron insisted. “They could discover us.”

  “Who cares?” Sherlock said. “If they do, they’ll kill the barbarian, and we’ll slip out of the arena. No big deal. Quit being so afraid of life.”

  Aaron sighed then waved his hand over my chest.

  You feel better.

  You feel different.

  You have [999/123] health remaining.

  “Whoa,” I said, genuinely impressed. “What did you do?”

  Aaron grinned like the boy who always craved attention and had finally gotten it. He didn’t answer, but I felt great. Would the health points last? I didn’t care.

  “Let’s do this,” I said, still unsure of what they wanted me to do.

  I had pieced together the conclusion that they want me to fight in the arena to win them some money, but I wasn’t entirely sure. The roar of the crowd inside thrilled me.

  We followed Ferris into the four-story coliseum. The grand spaces within reminded me of the Mines of Oriam in some ways. We blended into the crowds. I looked from one person to another, wondering if anyone would help me.

  For all I knew, slavery was indeed legal within the stupid virtual prison. I had read about stranger things in high school, especially my college-prep courses. The Tower of Gates reminded me of Lord of the Flies without the much darker edginess.

  As the spell notification mentioned, I felt different, in a good way. Ferris stopped near a betting station and joined the shorted line to wait our turn.

  I needed to kill someone. Bloodlust shot through my veins. Synapses fired at fantastic speeds. I would never die. Things couldn’t get any better.

  “He’s looking good,” Sherlock said.

  The line moved forward. I shifted my weight from my left leg to my right, ready to bound up a wall and fight a spider if necessary. A woman in the crowd caught my attention.

  Monky? Not wanting to let the Four Wizards know anything about her true identity, I averted my eyes. Had she noticed me? Was it even her? My thoughts were running a mile a minute.

  Ferris stepped forward again. He was next in line. I turned to check on the woman I thought might be Monky, but I didn’t see her anywhere. Ugh. Where had she gone?

  “Are you feeling good?” Thom asked, poking me in the stomach with a finger.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Ready to kill or be killed.”

  “That’s what we like to hear,” Sherlock said.

  “It’s all set,” Ferris said.

  He held up a slip of paper.

  “Who am I fighting?” I asked.

  “Not who but what,” Ferris said.

  He grinned as I furrowed my brow.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Sherlock said.

  They led me to a doorway with stairs leading down behind it. A man wearing spiked leather armor grabbed the chains on my hands and pulled me toward him.

  “Get this healing collar off him,” the guard said.

  “Not a problem,” Ferris said then moved to take it off.

  “Hurry it up,” he said. “We don’t have all day.”

  After Ferris finished taking off the collar, the guard nudged me down the stairs.

  “Good luck,” Thom called out as I descended.

  In the dark underbelly of the coliseum, I saw fighters of all shapes and sizes. A minotaur snarled as I passed him. Was that what I was going to fight? Could I win?

  “This way,” the guard said, motioning with his hand.

  He stopped near an empty cage and opened it.

  “Wait here until they come to get you,” he said.

  I shuffled inside, magic energy still coursing through my body. Foul smells filled the area under the coliseum. Outside, I heard a crowd cheering.

  After a few minutes of pacing the small cage, a different man appeared. He opened the cage and motioned for me to come out. I obliged.

  The man in spiked leather armor led me to a nearby wall with a wide array of weapons. I glanced at them all before zeroing in on one.

  “Pick your poison,” the guard said.

  I nodded at the giant sword. He reached over and took it down from the wall. After examining it a minute, he pointed to an archway.

  Light poured through it, barely penetrating the darkness. I walked forward, wondering if they would at least unchain my hands.

  When I reached the archway, I saw a ramp leading up to the arena. Three men carried a bloody body past me. I took a deep breath.

  “Give me your hands,” the guard said.

  I turned and saw he had a key with a skull on the top. He used it to undo my shackles. As he did, I heard an announcer in the arena.

  “Next up, we have Yorg the half-orc!” he said.

  The crowd, while loud, wasn’t exactly cheering.

  “Here,” the guard said after he finished.

  I turned and saw him holding out the battered sword. After taking it from him, I thought for a quick moment about running away. But with so many people around, I gave up the idea.

  Without having anywhere to go, I walked up the ramp to face my unknown fate in the Midgaard arena. My eyes adjusted to the sunlight by time I reached the top of the ramp.

  “Yorg the barbarian!” an announcer said again as I stopped and looked around.

  Tens of thousands of people filled the stands. Most of them booed, cat-called, and worse. I took a few steps toward the center of the arena. What am I about to fight?

  “Yorg will be facing off against an adult bearbug,” the announcer said.

  His voice echoed as the crowd went wild. The little spider-creatures with the body of a miniature bear didn’t scare me. I had fought swarms of the smaller ones.

  A gate lifted on the far side of the arena. I held up my forearm to shield my eyes from the sun as a bearbug lumbered out onto the field and growled.

  The crowd went into another cheering fit as the bearbug looked around. It stood at least a foot or two taller than myself from what I could tell at a distance.

  As the cheers died down, the bear-half of the creature raised its hairy arms and roared again. I gripped the two-handed sword tightly as it shuffled forward on eight large legs.

  The buffs the Four Wizards had cast on me still flowed through my body. I stood perfectly still as I tried to invoke my barbarian rage. Something felt different as my anger rose.

  Better Barbarian Rage Invoked!

  +50% to hit bonus

  +50 damage bonus

  You get 2 attacks per round.

  I lost all conscious thought. My huge half-orc body screamed and ran toward the bearbug with the sword held aloft in one hand. I felt like I was watching myself somehow.

  The massive bearbug growled as a ran by, slicing one its legs. It screamed as blood spurted from the wound. The sound of the crowd went away as I concentrated.

  My enhanced rage and other buffs made it easy for me to dance around the confused bearbug, slicing and dicing its body. The beast got a few hits of its own in, but I paid the pain no heed with all my extra health points. I kept attacking like a true berserk maniac.

  As my rage wore off, I slowed down a bit. By this time, the bearbug was in bad shape. Icky fluids came out of several cuts and holes in its gruesome body. While I hadn’t chopped off any other legs, it was still wobbling like it was about to collapse and finally die.

  I aimed my next blow at its chest, scoring a direct hit.

  Your slash MUTILATES the bearbug for 73 damage.

  Your slash DISEMBOWELS the bearbug for 113 damage.

  The bearbug is dead!

  Combat is Over!

  You get 3,500 xp

  You have 15,500 xp

  Level Up!

  Welcome to Level 6 Barbarian!

  You need 7,50
0 xp for Level 7 Barbarian

  Choose your class path wisely!

  * * *

  >>Urban Barbarian (levels 6-15)

  >>Savage Barbarian (levels 6-15)

  >>Berserker Barbarian (levels 6-15)

  Remembering what Aaron had said before, I chose Urban Barbarian. Would I be able to cast spells eventually? I hoped so. The Four Wizards would pay.

  After being led from the arena, my so-called owners came to visit. They put the collar back around my neck, so I wouldn’t outright die from my wounds.

  “Not bad,” Ferris said. “Keep this up, and we might let you go.”

  I stared into his eyes, my left, upper lip twitching.

  “No more smartass remarks?” Sherlock asked.

  Thom laughed then slapped him on the back.

  I walked into the cage and sat down. Coming down from their buffs wasn’t fun. The roar of the crowd and sounds of the other caged fighters and fantastical creatures faded as I closed my eyes. Beautiful sleep overtook me, filled with dreams of Sarah and simpler times.

  21

  Controlling the Rage

  Josh

  Six months after spawning back into the game as an NPC and a few weeks after starting my career as a gladiator, I realized I needed to act smarter.

  The thrill of killing epic fighters and creatures in the arena was nice, but all the buffs the wizards cast on me were beginning to have negative side-effects.

  When I relieved myself, the neon-green color of all my waste was a small clue something wasn’t right. The gruel they fed me didn’t help.

  One morning, as I sat in my cage and plotted how to escape, the Four Wizards visited me. They all wore brand new robes with brilliant colors and more.

  “How’s it going, barbarian?” Ferris asked.

  I glanced through the bars at them but said nothing.

  “He’s not looking too good,” Aaron said in a low voice. “Maybe we should stop with the you-know-what. We don’t want to get caught or kill our slave.”

  “I don’t care if he dies,” Sherlock said, smiling. “We’ve gained so much platinum and goodwill already, we’re set for anything that happens from this point on.”

  Thom pulled out a key and unlocked the cage.

  “It’s not time for my next fight,” I said.

  “You’re coming home with us,” Ferris said. “We need to keep a closer eye on you.”

  “Get up,” Sherlock said. “And don’t try anything.”

  After standing, I stumbled out of the cage. The Four Wizards stood around me, holding hands. A few chants later, we teleported out of the coliseum.

  “There we go,” Ferris said after we reappeared.

  I looked around a dark, dank room with stone walls. One end of a thick, glowing chain was attached to a wall. It ended in four shackles. Sherlock nodded his head toward it.

  “Go on,” he said. “Lock yourself up.”

  I thought about making a run for it, but I didn’t see any doors or windows. Resigned to my fate, at least for the moment, I shuffled over to do his bidding.

  Sherlock came over to check the restrains after I’d placed them around my legs then arms. He pulled on them hard, but I was beyond feeling pain.

  “What can you tell us about Sarah?” Ferris asked.

  “Yeah,” Thom added. “Is she a good kisser?”

  Sherlock chuckled while Aaron shook his head.

  “Don’t you worry about her,” I said.

  “Or what, barbarian?” Sherlock asked.

  “You’ll find out if you hurt her.” I flexed my muscles. “You’ll find out quick.”

  Ferris, Sherlock, and Thom all laughed at my ridiculous display of strength. My muscles and even my barbarian rage hadn’t helped me get away from the Four Wizards.

  I needed to think my way out. While I wasn’t sure exactly how I would do it, I had to come up with something before I ended up dying during one of my arena battles.

  “Can you buff me tonight?” I asked as calmly as possible.

  “We need you at full strength for the arena,” Ferris said.

  “No way we can double-dose,” Thom said.

  Aaron nodded. “I’m still afraid they’ll detect us.”

  “Don’t be such a sissy,” Sherlock said.

  “Please?” I asked. “Just a few spells?”

  “He’s totally addicted.” Thom walked over and peered up into my eyes. “His pupils are gone, guys. We should probably let him cool down for a few days.”

  “No,” I said, grabbed him by his robes.

  The other three wizards raised their hands.

  I let go of Thom’s bright white woolen robes.

  “That’s better,” he said then backed up. “No buffs for you tonight.”

  “Or all weekend,” Ferris said. “We can’t burn him out. This scheme is working better than I ever imagined, but we don’t want to get greedy.”

  “Pigs get fat and hogs get slaughtered,” Aaron noted.

  “Yeah,” Thom said. “You need to cool down, barbarian.”

  Anger bubbled up from the dark recesses of my mind. The grey matter in my skull, while virtual, held so many emotions, but primarily I buried all my hate and rage.

  “He’s turning green,” Thom said, pointing and laughing.

  “Restrain him,” Ferris said.

  I glanced around. They had teleported into the featureless stone room I called home. Where would I go even if I ran past them? Nowhere.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “After all this time, I’ve learned to control my emotions better.”

  “Even under all this stress we’re putting on your body?” Aaron asked.

  The four of them crowded around me, poking and prodding.

  “Cut it out,” I said. “Leave me a little dignity at least.”

  “He’s right,” Ferris said. “Let’s leave him alone.”

  “A few days should do it,” Sherlock said.

  I walked over to my favorite corner and sat down on the wet, damp floor. The Four Wizards teleported away, leaving me to myself. I hated being alone.

  My thoughts turned darker for the next couple days as my body detoxed from all the magical buffs they’d given me repeatedly. Everything about it sucked.

  By the time they zapped back into my cell to buff me, I would’ve done anything for just one more sweet, sweet round of magical buffs for my character.

  One after another, I took down all the crowd favorites in the arena, taking their spot at the top of the hill of gladiators. I hated and loved it simultaneously.

  22

  Where Is My Mind?

  Josh

  Month seven arrived for my new character, and I still wasn’t in any better shape. If anything, matters had gotten worse. When I didn’t get my buffs every twelve hours, I went into withdrawal, shaking and sweating all night.

  The Four Wizards withheld their magic from me every few days so as not to burn me out. No matter how well I behaved or performed in the arena, they tortured me every chance they got. It was so bad I thought about killing myself.

  However, even killing myself in battle wasn’t possible due to their twisted magic items and spells. Whatever happened, I would always miraculously survive the battle. They had actually grown an arm back after I lost it once.

  I had been battling in the arenas five times a week and had for over a month when I finally caught a lucky break. The arena battle started like any other. I walked up the dirt ramp. The crowd went wild, throwing undergarments, flowers, and other items.

  After they settled down, I would make my way around the entire arena, getting the crowd all worked up. When I finished my circuit, I saw a familiar warrior in plate mail enter the arena. I held my bastard sword with both hands as he sauntered over.

  Why did he come out of the same entrance as me? I wondered.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said, his voice amplified via magic. “Tonight, we have a very special performance. An old fan favorite will be joining our c
urrent hero of the arena. That’s right. Thero will be teaming up with Yorg to fight a surprise creature. Let me give you a hint. You’ve never seen this before.”

  As he droned on, telling the crowd about food specials available during the show, I walked up to Thero. He looked different than I remembered him, but I couldn’t place what exactly. We stopped near each other. I sized him up.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I replied.

  “Long story,” he said. “We should get ready to fight. Have your skills improved any since we last met? I remember you sucked in battle.”

  He grinned as I laughed it off.

  “Maybe I’ll accidentally kill you tonight,” I said.

  He snorted then shook his helmet-covered head.

  “Whatever you say, half-orc.”

  Before I could ask him about Monky, I heard a tremendous roar on the other end of the arena. Both of us turned to the sound. A metal monstrosity stood on two legs, looking us over. I spotted a blade on one arm and a wand of some sort on the other.

  “Metal construct,” Thero said. “We might be in trouble.”

  “You might be,” I said as I activated my barbarian rage. “But not me.”

  Better Barbarian Rage Invoked!

  +50% to hit bonus

  +50 damage bonus

  You get 2 attacks per round.

  I rushed at Thero, swinging my marvelous bastard sword. He took both blows like a champ. Before I could attack him again, the Metal Construct fired the wand.

  Two dozen Golden Bolts of energy shot out in rapid succession. One dozen hit him while the rest burned their way into my chest. I cried out in pain, raging more.

  I turned away from Thero and rushed at the solid metal biped. My old companion also charged, trying his best to keep up with me. All my secret buffs paid off once again.