Rise of the Grandmaster

by Bradford Bates

  The orc spun and brought his sword down from above. Cassie held her staff with both hands, lifting it above her head to block the blade. The orc smiled, knowing his sword would cut through the girl’s staff and kill her. Then he could go back to dinner, with a little extra meat for the pot.

  Sierra kept moving around the orc. She hoped her friend's staff would be able to deflect the blow, but she was pretty sure Cassie was about to die. When she died, Sierra had two choices: run or fight. She saw the look of determination on her friend’s face and knew she would fight.

  The sword hit the center of the wooden staff, and a metal clang rang across the open space.

  “That’s right, bitch. It only looks like wood.” Cassie casually tossed the orc's blade to the side before hitting him again.

  Sierra took that as her cue and leapt out of the shadows, her daggers poised for a kill. The blades sank deep into the massive orc’s back, just under his ribs. She pulled the daggers free and plunged them in again. The orc tried to swing at her, but Cassie used her hook and chain on one of his arms to draw the swing off-center. Sierra didn’t miss her chance. Lunging inside the orc’s extended arms, she cut upward, almost like a prizefighter throwing an uppercut.

  Only this uppercut came with a foot of steel behind it.

  Her blade tore through the orc's throat. The half-elf dodged the spray of blood and ended up standing next to her partner. Sierra nudged Cassie’s shoulder. “I think you might be getting the hang of this.”

  “Except for being terrified of getting cut in half the whole time, it was kind of fun.” Cassie bent down and pulled her hook free. She tucked the weapon back into her belt, replacing it with a small knife to cut the orc’s rings free.

  Cassie slipped the rings into her inventory with the rest of the items they’d collected. “I’ll turn these in to Ironbeard in the morning. Come and find me, and I’ll give you your half of the bounty.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s get back to Promethia. I’ve got a man to hunt down.” Sierra grinned, thinking about the look on Tim’s face when she just showed up.

  “Stalker much?” Cassie sniggered as they started the long walk back to the city.

  List of Tim’s Current Stats and Skills

  “Tim” Level four magic user

  Primary Stats

  Strength 12

  Endurance 12

  Dexterity 16

  Intelligence 15

  Wisdom 20

  Secondary Stats

  Perception 3

  Vitality 2

  Revitalization 2

  Luck 2

  Notable Gear

  Circlet of Wisdom +1

  Simple Dagger of Dexterity +1 (X2)

  Level Ten Class Change Token

  Skills

  Small Blades: Apprentice rank five

  Throwing Knives: Apprentice rank two

  Sneak: Apprentice rank three

  Night Vision: Novice rank five

  Back Stab: Novice rank seven

  Cleanse: Novice rank one

  Healing Orb: Apprentice rank three

  Flame Burst: Novice rank one

  Open Quests

  Fleecing the righteous

  Revenge they say, I call it justice

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lightning parted the dark night like Moses parted the sea.

  Tim looked into the dark swirling mass and thought about what had happened since he entered The Etheric Coast. Things hadn’t exactly gone to plan, or maybe they had, but they certainly hadn’t gone the way he imagined them.

  Dying hadn’t been in the cards.

  But that hadn’t stopped the man in the orange sash from killing him, or the crazy visit to his caseworker that resulted in his resurrection. Tim’s rise from the grave would have gone largely unnoticed if the high priest hadn’t told everyone in the city about it. He was already on the bad side of Cardinal Jepsom, but now he was Public Enemy Number One.

  That wasn’t all bad. Since entering the game, he’d met some interesting people he was starting to consider friends. Gaston the master assassin and Ernie the innkeeper were NPCs, not to mention his boss Ironbeard. The surly little motherfucker was all heart under his gruff exterior.

  The best thing by far was ShadowLily. He’d finally talked to the girl of his dreams and followed her into the game. Tim hadn’t been wrong about his intuition. The whirlwind of their first few days in the game was coming to an end, and Tim knew it wouldn’t be long before they were spending all of their time together.

  When you find the right one, you just know.

  There was only one aspect of the game he hadn’t fully embraced yet, and those were his roles as assassin and healer. He loved the healing, and despite himself, he kind of liked the sneaking around and stabbing things. He’d like the stabbing part better if the people he was killing didn’t feel so damn real.

  Sometimes the quest picks the player, and you have to go along for the ride.

  Tim smiled at the sky. He’d always loved the rain, and in the slums, it rained every day. Taking a sip of his beer, he stepped back inside the Blue Dagger Inn. There was plenty of time to watch the rain, but right now, what he was hungry for was another taste of adventure.

  “Any last words?” ShadowLily purred, throwing knife pointed at Tim.

  “Tangerine,” Tim replied with a gulp.

  ShadowLily swayed as she shifted her balance. It couldn’t have been easy standing on the backs of the two tall dining chairs. In fact, Tim was pretty sure if he tried the same exact feat, he would have slipped and cracked his head open. The last thing he wanted was to visit his caseworker again so quickly. How did you explain to someone that you died trying to balance on the back of two chairs with a knife in your hand?

  Almost seemed like natural selection.

  “’Tangerine?’ What in the fuck does that even mean?” One of the chairs started to tip, but she adjusted in the nick of time.

  “It’s my safe word.”

  ShadowLily scoffed. “Losers don’t get safe words. Plus, it’s in your best interest to just take it like a man. If my legs get tired, my aim might be off.” She wobbled a bit just to emphasize her point.

  Tim put the tin teacup on his head. “Maybe that’s not how it should work. Maybe losers need access to more safe words.” He smiled up at her unconvincingly. “I mean, we’re the ones getting shafted.”

  “If you don’t enjoy the taste of defeat, you should probably stop betting on things.” ShadowLily grinned at him. “Unless you want to go double or nothing and risk finding out if I can do this on one leg, just close your eyes and let it happen.”

  “You know, this is starting to sound like a weird sex thing,” Tim continued hurriedly, trying to distract her. “So, a lady walks into an inn with two chairs, a knife, and a teacup. Can you see where this is going?”

  “One leg, it is.” Her arm snapped back to throw the knife.

  Tim ducked, and the teacup clattered to the floor. His hands came up to shield him. “Two legs. If you insist on throwing the knife at me, please use both your legs.”

  “I insist.” She held out her knife, making a hurry-up gesture. “Now stop being such a baby.” When he didn’t move as fast as she wanted, ShadowLily dropped her voice, making it sound slightly husky. “It puts the cup on its head.”

  At least she didn’t ask me to put the lotion in the basket.

  ShadowLily swayed before steadying herself on the backs of the chairs. “Stand up and take it like a man.”

  “And now we're back to the sex jokes,” Tim groused as he grabbed the fallen teacup and stood back up. Cursing for getting into this mess in the first place, he put the cup on his head and his back against the pillar. It wasn’t like he could say no now. He’d lost the bet fair and square, and his most important needs as a man could still be satisfied if he were missing an eye.

  Tim looked at ShadowLily, who was swaying on the back of the two chairs twenty feet away. “Fine, but only one throw.”

 
; “You owe me two.” She grinned. “Like I said, stop making bets if you can’t pay the piper.”

  Normal couples just bet each other sex stuff, why couldn’t they be more like that? “I was just hoping I could pay you in another way.” He tried to hit her with the 007 charm.

  “Oh, you’ll be doing that too.” She flipped the knife into the air. The blade flew slowly end over end until it started to fall. She plucked the knife from the air, her legs never even trembling with the effort of maintaining her balance. “And don’t even try to pretend like you don’t enjoy it.”

  How is she a better James Bond than me?

  Although, Tim had to admit he did enjoy it. Whatever it was, as long as he was doing it with her somewhere secluded, it was the best thing ever. One of the best parts of being in a new relationship was the sexual honeymoon, but normally it didn’t include throwing knives. Throwing bladed weapons at someone you're having carnal relations with seemed like the kind of thing that ended up on the five o’clock news.

  He could see it now on Promethia News Tonight.

  Our last story of the evening takes place in the slums where a young man was killed by his girlfriend. When asked about why she did it, her response was, “My foot slipped.”

  “The endless enjoyment I derive from your body isn’t up for debate. It’s how much I enjoy mine being hole-free, that is.” Tim smiled holding out his hands in a “don’t kill me” gesture. “Isn’t there another way we can settle this.”

  “Just close your eyes, and don’t move.” ShadowLily licked a finger and held it up to test the air, as Gaston had done. “It will all be over soon.”

  “This is starting to sound more like an episode of how to catch a predator.” Tim closed his eyes and leaned against the wooden pillar. The real question was, how much did he trust her? If the answer was “with his life,” he was doing the right thing, and he had nothing to worry about.

  Thwack!

  The sound of the first blade hitting the wooden pillar a foot above his head made him jump. Somehow he managed to catch the teacup before it hit the ground. With his eyes still closed, he put the cup back on top of his head and tried to think happy thoughts.

  Note to self, never gamble with a half-elf when death is on the line.

  He took a deep breath and froze. The last thing he wanted was for ShadowLily to claim he moved and have to suffer through this again. Having knives thrown at a cup on top of your head was just as moronic as those idiots who shoot each other while wearing bulletproof vests. He had always laughed at them and thought it might be a blessing for humanity’s gene pool, but here he was with a cup on his head.

  The sound the knife made when it pierced the metal was like a bell going off inside his head. Tim dropped to the ground and grabbed his ears before turning to stare at the cup pinned to the pillar. The knife had gone directly through the center. Damn, she was good; he’d been wrong to doubt her. Now that ShadowLily was working with Gaston, her abilities had grown by leaps and bounds.

  ShadowLily let out a scream of triumph and tackled him to the floor. “Told you I could do it.”

  Tim managed a weak smile. “I don’t know why I ever doubted you.”

  She kissed him. “Remember that next time I ask you to do something crazy.”

  Tim wrapped his arms around her and crushed her body against his. “Next time, can the crazy thing be us throwing knives at someone that isn’t either of us?”

  “Depends,” ShadowLily whispered an inch from his mouth.

  “On?” Tim didn’t know what it depended on, but as long as she didn’t have to cut off one of his extremities, he’d do it.

  “On how well you do that thing I like. After all, that was the second part of our bet.”

  “Oh.” Tim started to grin. “I think I’ve got that covered.” He laced his fingers through her hair and pulled her head down so he could kiss her again.

  “You’ve got a room for that.” Ernie walked past them, yanking the tin cup free from the pillar. “And I’ll be billing you for this.”

  They broke into giggles as they rolled apart. Tim was just starting to daydream about what was going to go on in his room when the worst thing in the world happened. Tim’s alarm for work went off. He had exactly enough time to clean up and get there without being late. Dismissing the alarm, he climbed to his feet before helping ShadowLily up.

  “I’ve got to get ready for work.” Tim made a sad face. “Can we get together tonight?”

  “You still owe me, don’t you?” ShadowLily winked at him. “Besides, I have things to do today. You’re not the only one with responsibilities, you know. I hope you don’t think when you're gone that I just sit around and pine for you until you come back.”

  “Shame.” Tim grinned like a fool. “That’s what I do when you’re gone.”

  Blushing, she gave him a quick kiss. “Whatever. I’ve got stuff to do.” She took her knife from Ernie and slipped it back into place. She walked toward the door. Halfway there, she stopped and turned. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Tim waved to her and thought about how much fun tonight was going to be. Ernie cleared his throat and pointed at the mess they’d made. Tim quickly straightened the chairs and tables they’d knocked over. When he looked up, the innkeeper was staring at him.

  “That’s one hell of a woman you have there,” Ernie said.

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “But she isn’t a guest of the inn, and we can’t have her coming around all the time.” Ernie frowned. “The boss wouldn’t like it.”

  “Then maybe I should talk to the boss. I’m sure we could iron something out.”

  The innkeeper wrung the towel in his hands. “Maybe.”

  Gaston strolled into the room. “I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough. Until then, your lady is welcome here, as long as you keep her out of our business.”

  “Shouldn’t be too hard.” Tim turned toward the burly assassin. “Since I have absolutely no idea what you’re up to.”

  “Trust me, it’s better that way.” Ernie looked relieved.

  Gaston took a seat. “You know as well as I do that the kid could help us.” He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table.

  “The boss said no,” Ernie snapped. “No one else gets involved.” He glared at the assassin before knocking his boots off the table. “Or do you want to be the one who tells the boss we failed?”

  Gaston looked aghast but covered it up quickly by rolling a cigarette and lighting it. “I think we can make do on our own.” He took a deep drag and blew out three perfect rings. “For now.”

  “Well, now is all we ever have to worry about, isn’t it?” Ernie sighed as he pointed at Tim. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  “Oh, shit.” Tim ran for the bathroom.

  “I had a case of the oh, shits once.” Gaston hollered after him. “I’ll never eat another dockside shrimp taco again.”

  Ernie shook his head in disgust. “There is a thing called oversharing.”

  The assassin took another long drag from his cigarette. “I find it’s easier to let other people tell you when they’ve heard too much. You never know when someone might want to hear all the juicy details.”

  Ernie slid a dish under Gaston’s cigarette right before he ashed it on the table. “I for one could do with fewer details from you, especially if it involves the words ‘dockside’ and ‘shrimp tacos.’”

  “Just be thankful you weren’t in the room with me.” Gaston stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. “Guess I better take another look at our little side project.” The assassin walked toward a door at the back of the room. “We all know how the boss gets when he has to wait.”

  Ernie pulled a vial from his pocket and tossed it to Gaston. “Give this a try. A few drops on your blades should make a difference.”

  “Nothing makes an assassin smile like a new poison to test.” He slipped the vial inside his shirt and stepped through the door.

  “God
dess, protect him.” Ernie prayed as he stared at the closed door.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Juan Pablo moved from shadow to shadow before ducking into the alley.

  Fuck.

  Had he missed him again? Martin’s antics were starting to grow wearisome. The chase was fun, but only to a point and only when he controlled the outcome. The sun had come up, and if he didn’t return to the Mary Lou shortly, Don Diego would be furious. He’d seen the captain kill a man for tracking mud across the deck, and the last thing he wanted was to find out how the captain would react if he failed to deliver Martin’s head as promised.

  How had he disappeared so quickly? The smallest scuff of metal on metal reached his ears, and Juan Pablo let out a sigh. “Of course he went into the sewers. Isn’t that where all rats go to hide?”

  After bending down, he pried the sewer grate out of place and slid it to the side. Someone else could put it back if they cared so much, but he didn’t have the time. He stepped onto the ladder and placed his hands and feet on the side to use it more like a slide. He couldn’t let Martin get too far in front of him. If he lost the fucker down here, he’d never find him again.

  He hit the ground twenty feet below just in time to see a flash of light heading down one of the tunnels. Brushing off his hands, Juan Pablo started to jog after the retreating glimmer of light. A few moments later, he was close enough to hear Martin humming. He thinks he got away. This should be easy.

  Staying low to the ground, Juan Pablo increased his speed and closed the distance between them. He was about to launch into a full out sprint when he heard a voice call out. Then it happened again. The third time the voice sounded, he thought he finally understood what was being said.

  Papa?

  What kind of man makes his family live in the sewer? Still, the captain hadn’t said anything about killing Martin’s family. Maybe he would give them a chance to live. It all depended on Martin. He waited for the light to grow dimmer but made sure to stay in earshot in case there were other people he might have to contend with.