Then a voice from within says something in a language I don’t know, and the spellcaster replies. The chain moves, and the door slides open.
Inside it is surprisingly light, and I blink around, gradually seeing that we are walking into a narrow entrance which soon opens out into a square and fairly bare room. The room has only a couple of tables against the walls, each with plain dark cloths draped across them, though there is a richly woven red-and-black carpet on the ground, and the ceiling is tiled, with just a few tiles broken off and missing. Again, the detail of the simulation that is Shadow Kingdoms leaves me feeling awed, despite our predicament.
There are four other people in the square room, and three look like nothing more than local rogues or cutthroats, each holding cudgels to complete the look. The exception is a tall knight wearing light ringmail armor and black painted helmet with a blue star upon it, and the visor up. And it is the knight that steps forward.
“Welcome to our temple. It seems that you are the newest recruits to the worship of Anthema. Hers is a bloody and callous sort of worship, but a righteous one.” With this he chuckles and then walks through into an adjoining room.
I quickly scan the knowledge base:
Anthema is a goddess dedicated to suffering and cruelty, and is a part of the major pantheon. Her worshipers believe that in order to honor the goddess, suffering must be inflicted on others whenever possible, and that they too must suffer in order to win her favor, and, ultimately, the salvation of their souls. As such, her followers are known for secretive violent rituals, primarily the torture and killing of both animals and people. They also routinely harm themselves in various ways, with self-flagellation being the most prominent practice. At times, followers of Anthema gather together for ceremonies where multiple victims are bled out or burned. Despite her fearsome image, Anthema is considered one of the lesser gods of Shadow Kingdoms; her worship is often viewed by educated people as a cult, and is more common among tribes of orcs and lizard folk than it is in civilized cities and towns.
As the half-orc disappears through a rear door, we have our backpacks and remaining weapons taken from us by the thugs, and we too are ushered through to an adjoining room by the elven warrior. This chamber is much larger and again roughly square, and it has wooden chairs dotted around on the marble floor. In the centre of the room is a set of huge runic symbols carved directly into the floor, and surrounded by a slightly faded ring of red paintings depicting dragons chasing one another.
It looks very much like the sort of place that people might be sacrificed to the worship of a murderous cult.
Chapter 19: Captives
Lugg and I look at each other. He appears to have recovered from his zombie-like state in the street, and I can almost see his mind at work, thinking of a way of escape. As for me, if we could get a moment alone, I am confident that my crafting skills could come to the fore.
Before long we are both in chairs in the room’s center, our arms bound by strong cords.
“What are you planning to do with us?” I call out in alarm, and then look around me for any signs of spilled blood or charring. I have a strong feeling that involuntary attendance at cultish rituals never turns out well.
For a moment, though, our kidnappers have left us to our own devices; at the door, the tall knight is speaking quietly to the elvish kidnapper from the street.
“Are the others close?” I ask Lugg. “Might they look for us here?”
“Unlikely, Daria. The inn that Miss Coruff spoke of is still two blocks away, and there is no need for anyone to pass this way, ‘specially not by evening.”
The knight and one of the thugs are approaching now, and the former looks carefully at Lugg. “Best if we knock him out,” he says. “Do it, and then wait outside.”
At this, the thug, a plainly dressed human man with a bald head, leans forward and cudgels Lugg across the back of the head, causing him to slump forward in a daze. The man then turns on his heel and leaves the room.
“No!” I yell.
“Relax,” says the knight with a mocking grin. He puts one hand on my shoulder and I do my best to pull away from him, straining against the bonds. He takes one step back and looks at me quizzically. “He’s just an NPC, you know,” he says.
With this, he takes a seat opposite me.
I am on the verge of responding with he’s my friend… and for some reason, it takes a moment to understand what I just heard.
The man called Lugg an NPC.
“You,” I say, leaning back. “You’re a real player! Then what is this? Let me go – this hurts!” I bare my teeth and pull at the bonds again, only to cause them to dig painfully into my upper arms.
“Zakira, it’s time,” he calls out, looking towards the entrance of the room.
I turn my head, and see that this time it is the red-haired elven woman approaching again. In the light, her brown skin gleams, and I notice once again the very fine engraving on her leather armor. She is almost silent as she pads forward into the room and approaches us. No wonder it was hard to detect her in the lane.
I again writhe in the chair, trying to pull away from her as she unsheathes one of her knives with a soft shushing noise, as if she was trying to reassure a scared dog.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she says.
With this, there is a flick of her knife blade, and I feel the cords at my back slacken. I raise my hands, and then Zakira – if that is her name – cuts the bonds that hold my body to the chair, too.
I surge to my feet, confused about what this means.
“Why tie me up, and then release me again?” I feel like spitting at the knight, though I am aware that I am unarmed, and that their thugs and sorcerer must be standing close by. “And who are you, anyway? Are you working for the Knights of Dawn?”
The man smiles slightly while the elf comes to stand beside him. Looking around, I see that the entrance is now shut – we are alone together in the ornate room, other than the unconscious Lugg.
“I will answer all your questions, Daria – or should I say Lucy,” he says, remaining seated. “Yes, I do know who you are… and you know me, too.”
He clears his throat, then gestures towards the chair alongside him; and Zakira sits. “But allow me to introduce myself properly,” he continues. “I am Connor Champion, and this here is the lovely Zakira, someone who is very… special to me, both in Shadow Kingdoms and beyond.”
“Connor…” I splutter, and then stop, narrowing my eyes.
He now fully removes his black armored helmet, setting it at his feet, revealing tousled and longish black hair. His avatar has a Mediterranean look to it, perhaps more like a hero of Ancient Greece than anything else I could name. Indeed, he is very handsome, if slightly overshadowed by the beautiful Zakira at present. He is also tall and imposing and oozes confidence.
All the same, our treatment and the sudden about-turn of his attitude have left me on edge.
I don’t like to be toyed with.
“What exactly do you want with us, then, Connor?” I ask, still scowling.
“I want to help you,” he replies, leaning back and running his hands through his hair. “Or rather, I suppose it’s fair to say, I want you to help me. But in a way that I think will benefit us both greatly. Remember our messages. I know what’s happening, and I can help keep you safe, and defeat our common enemy.”
“I am not feeling at all well-disposed to helping you right now, Connor,” I say. “You hurt my friend here.” I gesture to Lugg.
“That?” he chuckles for a few moments, and then the laughter subsides as he sees me glaring back at him. “Oh, you’re serious? Very well. I am sorry about your companion here. Servants can be useful, believe me, I know. But this will allow us to continue to speak about some things that relate to the real world, which would be confusing for him, and dangerous to do further by messages I-R-L.”
“Hmm. Well, I won’t cooperate until you give back my stuff and start treating me a bit be
tter.
* * *
There is a pause as they speak quietly to one another, and then Connor drags his chair closer so that he is speaking to me from just a couple of feet away. “Lucy – I need you to work with me,” he says, calmly. He obviously expects compliance. This is a man who is used to ordering people around, I can tell.
I, however, shake my head, sitting back in the chair and staring at him coldly. I feel rage coursing through me. “No way, man. I mean…you kidnap us, hurt my friend, and now – you want me to help? Why should I? This is frankly psychopathic. And I mean you, too.” I direct that last one at Zakira. She raises one eyebrow and then folds her arms.
Connor leans closer, frowning. “You’re not in much of a position to argue, are you Lucy? I mean, here you are, no weapons, nothing. Your companions don’t know where you are…”
“I could just log off.”
“Can you, though…?” he says. “And then any time you log into Shadow Kingdoms, you will wake up in a cell in this complex. Lots of fun.”
“All the same. I can do it,” I retort.
He shrugs.
Zakira stands and walks closer, leaning on the back of Connor’s chair and frowning. “Connor, must we?” she says. “I don’t think this approach is…”
“Quiet,” he says, waving his hand in her direction without making eye contact.
I look up at Zakira for a second; she takes a step back and folds her arms again across her ornate leather armor. She looks calm enough, though. I guess she is used to Connor’s ways.
“Listen,” he says, now focusing on me once again, “there are real benefits to working with me, I can assure you.”
I pause. “Go on, then,” I say. “You want me to help you? Let’s hear your pitch.”
He sits back, folding his muscular arms behind his head. He certainly built a handsome avatar for himself, I reflect. It’s just a pity he is such an asshole.
“This world, I built most of it, as you know,” he says. “At least it was all my idea, and the devs did my work. But now there is a conflict. The Emperor and his servants want to bring back Zoltan the Third. My creation, by the way. He was half-emperor, half-demon. That made him an invincible warrior, and now he is a weapon that they plan to use.”
I shrug. “All right. I had put some of that together myself. The Knights of Dawn have been gathering some kind of artefacts.”
He nods. “They hit on the idea that their resurrection spell was being blocked by the magic of the shadow monitors,” he continues, “as they were the most powerful users of magic in the game. And he was actually right about that. I was behind it. Right Zakira?”
The elf narrows her eyes; she is now fiddling with one of her knives. “Oh yes, big time,” she says. “He was terrified of us. We launched a major rebellion in Dathmir, and were nearly successful, too.”
“Wait,” I say. “You’re a monitor?”
She smiles. “It’s just a historical footnote now, but I was actually the first monitor in the game. Though as you may have realized, a certain change in identity was prudent after they decided to start killing off…”
“Anyway,” says Connor, interrupting with a frown. Jeez – the guy really doesn’t like it when he’s not the center of attention. “If the Emperor manages to get complete control over this world, that’s it for the rest of us.”
“Why should I care, exactly?” I say. “I’m not trying to control the world. I just want to keep my friends alive.”
“But Lucy,” he says, his voice raising slightly, “you don’t realize the danger you were in. The Knights of Dawn are close. You must get out of this town, and I will help you. Really. It’s essential that you don’t fall into their hands.”
“Well, I knew that too,” I shoot back. “I know they’re close – I just saw one. If you can help me evade them, I’m listening. But what do you want in return?”
Zakira looks sideways at the young man. “Can she be trusted?”
He says, “Oh, I’m sure this one can be trusted. Even if she wanted to work with the Emperor, she killed one of his red knights. That bridge is burned.”
Zakira is eyeing me closely. “Morning star or bow?” she asks.
“I’m sorry?”
“I saw the bow, and a morning star at your belt. So, what did you kill him with?”
I smile. I’m no great warrior, as she apparently thinks – but there’s no need to let them know that. “Morning star is my strongest. I struck him down.”
Connor-as-knight is staring at me with his eyes narrowed. “There’s more to it than that, though. You are important. You did… something. What was it?”
So – that’s what he wants. It’s all about the code, in the end. And he wants to know what I did to stay in the game when everyone else was kicked or incapacitated.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, feeling suddenly both bold and stubborn, perhaps because Connor has now pissed me off several times. “I just got lucky. I’m a good player, but as to how I stayed in game, I really don’t know. Probably a bug that you and your buddies at PreacherKorp overlooked.”
He stares at me for a moment, and then looks at the ground, smiling. “Look, Lucy, call it a hunch, but I think you can help our struggle. Come with me and Zakira to Katresburg. A new rebellion is starting, and you could play a major role. It’s time to take the fight back to the Empire and restore Shadow Kingdoms as it was meant to be.”
I look from one of them to the other. I feel calmer now, composed. I shake my head.
“I want to leave now,” I say. “If this is really not a kidnap, if it was for my own good, then point taken. I heard your offer. Now I want to get on my way. I’ll be careful – just let me get back to my friends.”
He shakes his head. “You cannot simply walk out. They have all the paths watched. What is the plan? To ride down the coast and then travel by river, is that it? Get to the swamps and team up with your lizard friends again?”
Too close. I stare at him, cursing myself. On reflection, I guess my movements have been a little too obvious. But at least he isn’t saying much about the coven. I’d like to keep it that way.
It occurs to me that the letter in Tan Darville’s cabin talked about delivering “witches and their accomplices” to an “agent”. And although it spoke of the Knights of Dawn, the letter in the spidery writing didn’t say anything to indicate that it was from them, or even by someone allied to them. Instead, it instructed Darville to come to Sefindarg City. Could Connor have been the author of the letter, and Zakira the ‘agent’?
“I need your answer, Lucy. We have upset you, I understand, but now is the time to calm down and be rational. We can help each other. It’s time to work together to take down the Emperor and his followers.”
I glare at him for a moment. And then I say: “You know what – I think I’ll pass on that.”
Chapter 20: In the Cell
Connor stands as the hired thugs return to move us once again. “Take them to the cells,” he calls out, and soon the thugs are at my side, short swords drawn. Two of them lift Lugg and move ahead of me. There is no immediate sign of the mysterious half-orc sorcerer.
As we are taken back through and then towards a room to the right, Connor follows a pace or two behind me. He stands and watches as we are ushered through into a chamber with two barred cells.
“Look, Lucy,” he calls out, “I am the good guy in this situation, and it was genuinely for your own benefit that we intervened. You would have been captured, otherwise. If you change your mind and help us, Zakira will direct you to a secret way out of town.”
Shooting one last glare in his direction, I choose to ignore him.
I insist on standing and watching as they move Lugg into one of the cells, but once he is lying down on its bunk to sleep it off, there is not much else I can do but go along with it as I am likewise locked up. Soon, the key is sliding in the lock, turned by another of the thugs, a male human with pale skin and blond hair, and I slump down on the
bunk of the cell.
As the other guards leave, Zakira lingers, looking at us both through the cells’ barred wall, before coming closer to mine. “Lucy, I’m sorry again. I told him this was a bad idea.”
“Then let me out,” I growl.
She steps closer. “I really wish I could. But Connor is convinced that you are important. If you would just talk to him, perhaps. Cooperate…”
“Zakira, you captured us and harmed my friend. I think I know what you are doing now, and I can tell you that this good cop to his bad cop routine is not going to work.”
She glances to her side. “It’s not like I could release you right now, anyway. At the moment, we wouldn’t get past that sorcerer. He’s high level.”
“I know. I’ve seen him in action.”
“On the ship? No, that was a different half-orc. And the two of them hate each other.”
“I meant in the street. But yeah, I saw that one as well. And I also found a letter…”
I pause. I had started to convince myself that Zakira was involved in the conspiracy on the ship. But there are certain things that don’t add up about that. She boarded at Sefindarg City, and did nothing to release the half-orc sorcerer who had attacked us, or to harm Coruff or myself. Nor did she initially follow us when we disembarked – I didn’t see her until after the knight was seen in the street, killing civilians.
And if Zakira is telling the truth, and Connor’s sorcerer and the one on the ship hate each other, then…
I stand up. “Are you really offering to help me get out of here?” I know that I am speaking coldly, rudely even, but I still feel angry at our treatment.
“We really are the good guys, Lucy,” she replies, taking another step towards the bars. “We want to help you, and other players like you, for that matter. We want Shadow Kingdoms to be the game it was meant to be. So in some ways, we genuinely are on the same side.”
The Call of the Coven: A LitRPG novel (Shadow Kingdoms Book 2) Page 13