by Troy Osgood
Hall was having a hard time breathing. He really needed to find some better armor, something with some padding around the chest. How often had his ribs been cracked or broken? Too often.
He held the spear with both hands, resisting the urge to grab his side.
The Duntin stalked closer, Hall getting his first good look at the captain, especially the weapon. It had a longer handle than the normal raiders’ weapons, able to be held two- or one-handed. The head was twice the size of the others, the edges rounded, the ends flat. A simple-looking weapon, aside from the rune work, made for just one thing. Hitting the Duntin’s enemies.
Pike screeched from behind, streaking down. Corht heard the noise, knew what it was. He turned, holding the hammer in front of him. There was a bright flash. The blue-white lightning bolt streaking for the Duntin seemed to bend in the air, turning and slamming into the hammer. Energy crackled up and down the iron hammer, snapping and twisting. Corht smiled, turning to face Hall, blue-white lightning surrounding the hammer.
Hall cursed.
Of course the hammer was magical.
But how much could it store?
Holding the spear with one hand, he reached for a throwing knife on his bracer. He didn’t get a chance to draw it.
Corht pointed the hammer at Hall, a cruel smile across his face. With a snarl, the energy coursing up and down the hammer gathered at the top, focusing around a small gem Hall hadn’t noticed before. It built up and shot out, a bolt of lightning flying from the hammer.
Hall dove to the side, the bolt slamming into the wall. Stone cracked, pieces falling.
Landing hard, wincing in pain at the pressure against his side, Hall scrambled out of the way, fearing another blast. None came. Energy no longer flowed around the weapon.
“He wanted those weapons and stones, boy,” Corht spat, stalking toward Hall. “Needed them.”
Hall had no idea whom Corht referred to. Had to be the person who had created the map. Hall had never found out who it was. Did the Duntins raid and gather the weapons and gold, storing them in the cave for this mysterious person to collect? The Duntins had somehow found him; did this mean their employer would be coming as well?
He had to keep Corht alive, or the other captain, but preferably Corht. Hall looked around the chamber, gauging the level of fighting. It was winding down, the Breakridge Irregulars winning. Only a handful of Duntins remained, almost all in one-on-one battles. Jackoby and Sharra were dealing with the other captain, Jurih. Hall shifted, making Corht shift so his back was to the rest of the fighting.
Pike swooped down, silent and without his breath weapon. Pike scored a hit across Corht’s back, drawing blood. The Duntin reacted quickly, hammer swinging fast, catching Pike in the wing. It spun Pike, the dragonhawk trying to fly up but unable with the wing hanging useless. He crashed into the ground, sliding to a stop.
Hall sent out his senses, hoping Pike was alive. The dragonhawk was, but wounded. Hall sent reassuring thoughts, thanking Pike, telling him to remain there and out of the way.
Stabbing with the spear, Hall caught Corht in the side. He pulled the spear back before the surprisingly quick Duntin could grab it. In a tug-of-war with the Duntin, Hall knew he would lose. Corht swung the hammer, Hall stepped back, trying not to look past the Duntin.
Taking a step forward, Corht never heard the armored boots slamming into the stone floor.
Roxhard barreled into the Duntin, knocking Corht to the ground. The hammer was sent flying. Roxhard’s axe lifted up.
“Wait,” Hall shouted, but it was too late.
The axe fell, slamming into Corht’s back. The Duntin’s body spasmed, legs and arms twitching, then fell still.
Hall sighed. There would be no questioning the Duntin captain now.
SLAIN: Roc Reaver Archer
+35 Experience (Faction Enemy Bonus +35, Dungeon Bonus +35)
SLAIN: Roc Reaver Archer
+35 Experience (Faction Enemy Bonus +35, Dungeon Bonus +35)
SLAIN: Roc Reaver Berserker
+40 Experience (Faction Enemy Bonus +40, Dungeon Bonus +40)
SLAIN: Roc Reaver Raider
+10 Experience (Faction Enemy Bonus +10, Dungeon Bonus +10)
SLAIN: Corht, Captain of the Roc Reaver
+70 Experience (Faction Enemy Bonus +70, Dungeon Bonus +70)
Skill Gain!
Light Armor Rank Two +.3
Skill Gain!
Polearms Rank Two +.3
Dismissing the notifications, he looked around the room. There were no foes left. Bealee was moving around, her hands softly touching, glowing yellow as she healed what wounds they had, which were all minor. The Duntins had gone down quickly, relatively easily.
Pike and Talon soared around the room, each squawking, coming to land on the ground. They hopped over to one of the bodies, starting poking at it with their beaks. Hall turned away.
“Are any alive?” he asked. He was disappointed in the answer.
All he was left with now were questions.
How had the Duntin tracked them down? Who were the Roc Reaver’s crew working for? More importantly, could that mysterious person track them down as well?
Looking away from the bodies, Hall studied the large room. There was nothing in it, just walls, floor and ceiling. Nothing to indicate what its purpose had been. Some kind of storeroom? A meeting room of some kind. Taking a step forward, he noticed an opening at the far end. No door, just a normal-sized opening for a human. The room beyond was black.
“Caryn, Jackoby,” he called, walking to the room. “The rest of you get ready.”
Behind him, Hall heard metal hitting the stone floor as Roxhard dropped the items he had been examining.
The Duelist moved in front, studying the floor and the wall around the opening. She paused, leaning close to what would have been the jamb.
“There are runes here,” she said, eyes moving up the jamb and along the top of the opening. “Not trap wards. I think they’re in multiple languages, but I can’t read them. Very faded.”
She stepped back. Looking at the opening one last time, she stepped into the room beyond.
Chapter 11
Hall held his breath, waiting for something to happen.
Nothing did.
Caryn disappeared into the black room, a green glow leaking past the edges a couple of seconds later. The light seemed to move as she walked about or shifted the globe to see into the depths of the room.
A minute later, Caryn walked back out, putting the Greenfire globe back into her pouch.
“It’s empty. A smaller room like this one,” she said. “There’s something carved into the middle of the room.”
Jackoby walked up to her, stopped in front of her, and glared down at the much smaller woman. She was half his size in all respects. He towered over her, his bulk having a presence. She just looked up at him, smiling, and shrugged.
“That was not smart,” he growled.
“Sorry,” she said, stepping aside so the Warden could go in.
Hall just shook his head. He was glad to see Caryn showing signs of confidence. He just didn’t want her taking unnecessary chances. He followed Jackoby into the room, pausing to look at the runes.
She had been right, they were faded. There was barely anything recognizable. The edges were rounded, the depth worn down. From what he could see, there were different languages. It reminded him of the cave in the Thunder Growls, facing the plains, that they had discovered on the journey to Silverpeak Keep for the first time. That cave had belonged to Bastian the Sage.
In the game lore that Hall knew, Bastian had been alive for hundreds if not thousands of years. He worked to keep Hankarth and all the kingdoms in the islands, as well as the cities and peoples, balanced and safe. Not evil, mostly good, Bastian was there for all the major events in the game. Most of them he had been the NPC who initiated them.
But the history now was different.
Leigh had said it was Bastian who had c
aused the fracturing of the world. His actions had led the Feardagh to command the elemental titans Ymir and Surtr to fight. Their clash had upset the delicate balance, causing the planet to explode. The World Tree had kept the islands together, using its magic to create what was now the world of Sky Realms Online.
Hall had never talked to Leigh about that story, what exactly Bastian had done. He just knew that she, and apparently all the NPCs, hated Bastian the Sage. They cursed his name.
He walked into the room, letting his eyes adjust, his Limited Night Vision activating. He saw the darker shadows with some grays in the corners where the walls met and the ceiling. It was empty, as far as he could tell. Only around ten feet by ten feet. Like the larger room, the floor and walls were worked stone. Smoothed and cut into the shape of blocks. Unlike the larger room, the ceiling here was worked as well. Smoothed with no joints.
His Limited Night Vision wasn’t good at seeing fine details, but he saw nothing to indicate anything was carved into the walls. No other openings. Nothing at all. The floor was different. In the middle of the room was a circle. He could see the outer ring, see lines that represented smaller diameter circles, five or six of them. Inside the rings were lots of little lines, crisscrossing shapes, with one large one in the center. He couldn’t see any clearly, just saw that there were carvings in the stone floor. He didn’t need to see them. He knew what this was.
He now knew whom this small village and caverns belonged to.
Out of all of them there, Roxhard was the only one to have been in the other cave.
As soon as he entered the room, he started looking at the walls, clutching his battle-axe, tense and ready. Hall had already warned them not to touch the runes. He had described the golem that had come out of the wall when they had crossed the line. It was not a fight he wanted to repeat.
Luckily Caryn had not touched the rune circle.
“You say this is identical to the Sage’s workshop you found,” Bealee asked, staring down at the rune circle. Like the other NPCs, or what Hall was now thinking of as the natives of Hankarth, she knew the story of how Bastian the Sage had destroyed the world.
Hall had asked, but she’d refused to talk about it.
“That is,” Hall replied, pointing at the circle. “The other one we found was in a single room filled with shelves and some kind of workbench. It looked like a place where golems had been made.”
Bealee nodded. She looked around the small room, turning to look out the opening into the larger room beyond.
“The Sage must have had a different purpose for this. I have heard it said that he had a workshop or cave on almost every island.”
“Appears he had two on Edin,” Caryn said, standing on the other side of Bealee.
The Wood Elf looked up at her sharply, but didn’t say anything. Caryn hadn’t noticed. Hall did, wondering about Bealee’s reaction. Had she somehow taken offense to Caryn’s comment? He hoped not. There weren’t that many people in Skara Brae. It wasn’t a large area; having two people not like each other would make it difficult.
“Our legends of Bastian the Sage are much the same,” Sharra said from where she stood by the opening. She held the staff across her body, Tulla’s cage hanging over her shoulder, where it typically was.
The little fairy nodded, her light purple glow seeming to become angry at the mention of the Sage.
“All alive hate the Sage,” she said, the words angry.
Hall was always shocked to hear anger in the high-pitched tone.
He looked down at the rune circle and back up at the far wall. There was nothing there to indicate a movable section of wall. Pulling a Greenfire globe from his pouch, he walked over to the wall. Shining the light along the floor at the wall and up at the ceiling, he looked for tracks or scratches in the stone.
There was nothing.
Would there be a golem protector here?
Aside from the gems, coins, weapons and armor that the Duntins had, they had found no treasure. Corht’s hammer was magical, that had been obvious when Hall had fought him, but that was it. No loot.
In the other cave, what little loot there had been, mostly ore and coins, had been in a small chest on a shelf behind where the golem had waited. Would it be the same here?
Would it be worth the risk?
He stepped back, looking back down at the circle.
“I know that look,” Roxhard said with a chuckle.
He stepped back behind the circle, putting it between him and the wall. He adjusted his grip on the axe, shifting his feet into a better stance. The others looked from him to Hall, confused.
Jackoby and Roxhard stood on either side of the rune circle. Hall behind Roxhard and Caryn behind Jackoby. Sharra and Bealee between it and the opening. All held weapons ready, in stances so they could watch all three walls. The plan was simple, Jackoby or Roxhard would charge whatever came out, no matter what wall. Hall and Caryn would attack, and the casters would throw their spells.
Overwhelm whatever came out before it had a chance to respond.
Hall looked over his shoulder, giving a nod.
Sharra stepped forward, sliding a foot across the outer ring of runes. Immediately the ring started to glow, random runes in the other rings lighting up. There was no connection between any of them, none of the many symbols recognizable. Then the center rune flared, the one that was the symbol for Bastian the Sage.
There was a low rumbling noise from the far wall.
A line of light appeared on the left side. Thin, it just appeared on the wall. Another appeared along the top, a third on the right. Everyone tensed. The grumbling continued, growing louder. They watched as the wall between the lights seemed to slide out, separating from the greater wall. It slid out a foot and stopped.
The noise changed, becoming a scraping, as the large section of wall slid along the floor. More light was revealed, showing a smaller room beyond. Only five feet deep and as wide as the sliding slab of rock.
Hall tensed when the first line of light appeared, ready to activate Leap. As more and more light appeared, the room beyond revealing, he relaxed.
There was nothing inside.
Nothing that would harm them at least.
A globe hung from the ceiling, the source of the light. A foot in diameter, made of smooth crystal, a small flame floating in the center. A pipe led from the top, disappearing into the ceiling. Walls, floor and ceiling were all worked stone. Smoothed but not carved with joints. Where Hall had expected to find a golem was instead just a stone chest.
It was part of the floor, the top a separate piece.
“That’s kind of disappointing,” Roxhard said, breaking the somewhat stunned silence.
Caryn took a step forward.
She stopped at the new opening. Crouching down, she examined the floor and the walls, standing up to get the head and the rest of the jambs.
“All clear,” she said, taking a step forward into the room.
She kept some distance from the chest, being careful to avoid touching it, or even looking at it, while she examined the rest of the room. Caryn looked at every surface, eyes roaming from bottom to top. Finding nothing, she shifted to the chest.
Moving back around, she stepped out of the opening, turning to face the stone chest. There were no markings on it, not that Hall could see from where he was. Just plain gray stone.
Caryn leaned in closer, studying the thin gap between top and sides. She pulled her dagger from the sheath at her belt, sliding the tip into that gap. She slowly moved the blade down the length of the chest, shifting position so she could get at one side and then the other. Standing up, she took a step back, looking at the chest.
With a sigh, she moved back into the room, behind the chest, where there was just barely enough space for her to crouch down between the wall and stone chest. She managed to get the tip of her dagger into the gap and glanced out at Bealee.
If Caryn tripped a trap, there was nowhere for her to go. She’d be blown agains
t the wall, taking the full force of whatever the trap was.
Bealee nodded, her hands already starting to glow, ready to rush to Caryn’s side and cast her Nature’s Touch healing spell. Next to her, Sharra started moving her free hand in intricate shapes, calling upon whatever spell she thought would work best against whatever the trap could be.
They were as ready as they could be.
Slowly, even slower than before, Caryn slid the dagger down the length of the chest.
Hall held his breath, waiting for the worst.
He exhaled when the dagger slid out the end, triggering nothing.
Caryn smiled, standing up.
“Clear,” she said.
She stepped out of the small room, motioning for others to enter.
Hall walked forward, setting his spear against the wall. He leaned down, reaching into the thin space between the top and the sides. The stone was heavy; he couldn’t move it. Not that he could get a good grip. The weight of the top kept it solidly against the walls, no way to get his fingers under it to lift. It was his turn to step back.
Jackoby and Roxhard both walked into the room, standing on either side of the chest. They didn’t bother trying it alone. Both bent down and tried to work their thicker fingers into the joint. It didn’t move.
Roxhard looked at the head of his axe and back at the lid. He sighed, aligning the blade with the joint.
“Hold on,” Hall said. “Use the Red Caps’ axes?”
The Dwarf smiled, sliding his axe into the harness on his back. Happily he walked back out into the main room, going for the pile of loot he had collected. He sifted through the pile, pushing hammers, lots of hammers, aside. Finally he pulled out two of the long axes the Berserkers had used. He walked back to the chest, handing one to Jackoby.
The axe-heads looked heavy rather than sharp. Hall, no weaponsmith, could see the difference in the Berserkers’ weapons compared to Roxhard’s. The Dwarf’s weapon was a higher quality, the edge razor sharp. The Berserkers’ were thick, not as sharp. More blunt instrument.