Rise of the Grandmaster

by Bradford Bates

  People had been smiling at her like that her whole life. When she walked into a room, because she was pretty and tiny, people forgot about her. Well, this shit-licking dragon fucker wasn’t going to get the best of her.

  The crowd cheered as their champion tossed his shield away. He bent down, picked up his spear with his left hand, and started jogging toward Cassie. She kept her eyes focused on him. It had been easy to keep him away when Drago had the shield, but without it, he could just wrap his arms around her.

  Getting smothered to death seemed like a shitty way to go.

  It was hard not to sprint forward and meet his charge. She kept circling and adding distance between them. He wasn’t nearly as proficient with the spear in his left hand as he had been with his right.

  Thankfully for Cassie, that meant she’d done some damage with her lone strike of the fight. If Drago couldn’t hold the spear in his right hand, it gave her something to work with.

  The king screamed at Drago as his next attack missed Cassie completely. A blue orb fell from the top of the dome, fluttering toward the injured lizard-man. Cassie rushed forward, pulling her hook and chain from her belt. She took aim when the blue orb was fifteen feet away from Drago’s outstretched hand.

  The hook spiraled through the air, wrapping around Drago’s ankle before latching onto the chain. Cassie yanked for everything she was worth and watched Drago stumble to his knees. Dropping the chain to the floor, she sprinted toward the fallen fighter with every ounce of strength she could summon. With a cry, she leapt off the ground, one foot landing on Drago’s back as she launched herself upward.

  Her hand closed around the glowing blue orb, and power rushed through her. Cassie hit the ground with a smile on her face. Arcs of blue energy ran down her arms, infusing her with a strength she couldn’t believe. Cassie ran forward, using her staff like a baseball bat. The running swing hit Drago in the side and sent him flying backward.

  Cassie’s blows rained down on Drago’s unprotected flesh. She heard something break and realized that her staff shattered against the lizard-man’s forearm. Getting the staff repaired wouldn’t be a big deal, but the weapon’s destruction had snapped her out of her battle rage. Looking down at Drago, she realized he was in bad shape. Both his arms were broken, and his ribs were turning black.

  Turning her gaze away from Drago, Cassie glared up at the king. “Are you satisfied now, you cheating bastard?”

  The crowd grew silent and scrambled off the dome. The ceiling of vines was slowly lifted from the ground. A quick glance to the side showed that her friends’ bonds had been cut and they were being herded toward her.

  The king appeared at her side. “That was well fought, Champion.” He pulled a small token from inside of his belt and pressed it into her palm. “Go forth with the blessings of our people.”

  Cassie grinned as her quest updated. She’d done it. When they got back to Promethia, she could go to the guildhall and officially update her class and register as an adventurer. Despite the rough start to this quest, things had worked out perfectly.

  The smile on her face disappeared as she looked at ShadowLily. The only thing that could have devastated her best friend that much was if something happened to Tim. Cassie ran forward, pulling her into a hug. “Tell me what’s going on?”

  “Tim’s been arrested,” ShadowLily said as she choked back tears.

  Rounding on JaKobi, Cassie shouted. “What the fuck? We weren’t gone that long.”

  The fire mage held up his hands in surrender. “Jepsom sent the city guard. There wasn’t anything we could do.”

  “I saw them from the inn,” Gaston rumbled. “Twenty armed men.”

  “Well, there has to be a trial or something, right?” Cassie gazed at the two men.

  “Not always,” Gaston replied uncomfortably.

  Cassie smacked him on the chest. “Not helping.” She turned toward JaKobi. “Well, wherever the hell he is, we’ll break him out.”

  “That’s the thing.” JaKobi looked at the ground. “We don’t know.”

  “They can’t find him. No one knows where he was taken,” ShadowLily replied despondently.

  Gaston put an arm around each of the two women and moved them toward the mouth of the cavern. “Let’s not press our hospitality. When we get back to the inn, I’ll put the word out. We’ll know where he is before dawn.”

  “Then we get to do a prison break.” Cassie grinned. “He’ll be back in your arms by noon.”

  ShadowLily smiled at them and picked up her pace. There was a look of grim determination in her eyes that said, “I will get him back, and there is nothing in the universe that will stop me.”

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Sleeping in a new place was never easy for Tim.

  Trying to get comfortable in prison for the first night was something else altogether. Tim spent most of the night reading the documents Paul had given him. There was a ton of information to review, and he was determined to be ready to strike if he made it out of the prison in time.

  Jepsom couldn’t win.

  Sometime around two AM, he shelved the papers for the last time and leaned his head against the wall. Prison wasn’t nearly as rape-centric as he’d been led to believe by late night TV. Sons of Anarchy had shone a light on jail that he hadn’t needed to see. Although in this case, that could just be the coding. It wouldn’t be very good PR if players had too realistic an experience.

  The game needed to be tense, not therapy-inducing.

  There was no place for a crime like that in the real world, let alone in a game. Thankfully, these developers had decent common sense. While Tim could still get his ass kicked in here, knowing that something else wasn’t going to happen to his ass made him feel safe enough to close his eyes.

  Tim rested his head against the rough stone wall and wedged himself into the corner. He would be more comfortable lying down, but he’d also be more vulnerable if someone did try to attack him. Slowly, he pushed the thoughts of getting attacked out of his mind and let them wander in a happier direction. Somewhere between dreaming of ShadowLily and a watermelon vodka slide, his mind went blank, and he was dead to the world.

  “What in the fuck was that?” Tim rubbed at his eyes, wondering if he’d heard a noise or if he’d simply dreamt it.

  A man’s wail came again.

  Without hesitation, Tim ran toward the noise. He hit a few dead ends, but eventually rounded the corner into what he thought was the right room. The torches in the area had been extinguished so he couldn’t see for shit.

  Stepping into the hallway, Tim grabbed a torch from the wall just as the awful sound came again. It was a cry he’d expect to hear from a man suffering from delirium or someone stuck in a fever dream. The noise was pure anguish, like the wail a mother makes when she loses a child.

  The pain the man must have been in to make those noises pushed Tim into action. He stepped into the room and lifted the torch above his head. As light slowly filled the room, his eyes found two men in the corner. One was lying down, and the other was kneeling over him.

  The man kneeling above the other turned to face Tim, shielding his eyes from the light. “Go back to your cell.”

  Lowering the torch, Tim focused on the man in front of him, trying to make out his features in the flickering light. “Sheriff Hobbs?”

  “I said, go back to your cell.” The sheriff sneered as he pointed back the way Tim had come. “I’ll make sure this prisoner is taken to a healer.”

  Tim wasn’t sure what was going on. There was no reason for the sheriff to be down here. The man had made the point several times that guards don’t mix with prisoners except during chowtime. If John Hobbs was down here to help the man, why had he found him kneeling over the prisoner in the dark? Maybe the man on the ground wasn’t just a prisoner, maybe he was a victim.

  Oh, shit!

  Tim took a step back before he could stop himself. If this man was being attacked by the sheriff, he couldn’t just leave.
Well, he could, but Tim knew he’d feel like shit if something happened to the man and he could have helped save him. Thankfully, the sheriff gave him just the “in” he needed to stay put.

  “You might not remember from our brief introduction, Sheriff Hobbs, but I’m a healer.” Tim smiled sheepishly, trying to play the part of polite inmate. “I helped cure a man who was suffering earlier. I’m sure I could do the same now.”

  The sheriff stood up, his eyes flashing briefly in the torchlight as they narrowed at Tim. “I told you to get out. Are you going to follow my orders, or are we going to have a problem here?”

  “You won’t get any problems from me, Sheriff.” Tim made sure to look as if the very idea was an affront to his character. “No fighting, no stealing, no bullshit.”

  A growl rumbled from deep inside of Jon Hobbs’ throat. He moved so that he was standing between Tim and the man on the ground. “I’m going to count to ten.”

  Tim paused, keeping the torch aloft so he could see the entire room. “By then, who knows how many inmates could be in here?” He pointed to the body on the ground. “He wasn’t exactly quiet.”

  “I’m fairly confident it’s just the three of us.” Sheriff Hobbs took a step closer to Tim. “And since you’ve interrupted my meal, I’m entitled to another.”

  Meal?

  So the good old sheriff was the killer, but how? And why would he do it? There didn’t seem to be any logical reason for this kind of behavior to suddenly start. Then Tim remembered what Davros had said. The guard had mentioned that Jon had been acting differently since he’d returned from his trip.

  Something must have happened to him on his vacation.

  “I’m sure if you’re hungry, I could probably scrounge up a few stray potatoes.” Tim kept the torch between them. He’d use it as a weapon if he had to, but the last thing he wanted was to hit the sheriff with it, only to find himself stuck in the dark.

  “You cheeky little shit.” The sheriff took another step toward him. “I’ll make you my fucking potato.”

  Tim tried not to laugh as he jabbed the torch toward the sheriff. Make me his potato. Who said shit like that?

  His one offensive spell was flameburst. Tim started going through the motions as the sheriff continued backing him into the opposite corner. Something flicked out of the sheriff’s mouth. Either he had an abnormally large tongue, or there was another mouth in there, just like in Alien.

  Fuck this!

  Tim finished the movements of his spell and let it go by pointing at the sheriff. Flames erupted from his open palm, engulfing the area in front of him with fire. Jon’s clothes burned and his hair was gone, but he didn’t scream. Instead, he took another lumbering step forward.

  This just keeps getting better and better.

  Tim’s fingers worked through flameburst again as his lips moved in a silent prayer to the goddess. He didn’t know what he was facing down here, only that the good sheriff wasn’t a man anymore. He was going to need some help to get out of this alive.

  The spell was finished and Tim started to lift his arm, only to find it clamped to his side. The sheriff’s fetid breath washed over Tim’s face like the smell of garbage left in a hot car. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  Tim’s concentration was broken, and the spell fizzled out.

  “See, we can be civil,” Jon whispered. “But I am still hungry. It would have been better for both of us if you’d just walked away.”

  “I’m starting to see that now.” Even with death on the line, Tim couldn’t stop himself from running his mouth.

  Sheriff Hobbs knocked the torch out of his hand before spinning Tim around and slamming him face-first against the wall. “So hungry.”

  Tim heard a noise like someone retching, followed by a slithering sound. He imagined something sliding out of the sheriff’s mouth, getting ready to attach itself to the back of his neck. He was about to become Jon’s next meal.

  Something wet touched the back of Tim’s neck, and his body started to grow numb.

  “Did you hear that?” someone called.

  “Yeah, I think it came from over here,” someone else responded.

  The sheriff slammed Tim’s head against the wall. “I can’t wait to taste you.” He took a step back. “Or drain you.” He giggled. “I can never remember which is better.”

  Tim turned to face the sheriff, surprised to see that he looked the same as he had when Tim had met him in his office this afternoon. His burnt hair and skin were back to normal. Jon’s clothes were still in tatters, but the rest of him looked perfect.

  Footsteps echoed down the hall. Tim flicked his eyes toward the door, knowing that whoever was coming had just saved his ass. When he turned to look back at the sheriff, the man was gone.

  Like a fucking ghost.

  Bending down to pick up his torch, Tim lofted it above his head as his gaze spun wildly, searching for any sign of the sheriff. “Why couldn’t he just be a normal serial killer?” Tim groused. It wasn’t like the man needed a supernatural edge since they were already imprisoned here. All he had to do was isolate a man, and his chance of getting caught was virtually zero.

  Baron and Henry came through the doorway and stopped at the sight of Tim. “What’s going on here?” Baron asked as Henry went to check on the man on the floor.

  Tim wiped away some of the blood running into his eye. The sheriff must have slammed his head against the wall harder than he’d thought. It was funny how fear took the edge off pain, or maybe it was the surge of adrenaline that did it. Now that the shock was wearing off, his head hurt more than he’d like to admit.

  A quick cast of healing orb cleared Tim’s head. “I heard a noise and came to find out what it was.” He looked at the ground, unsure of what to say next. If he told these men the sheriff was here and had somehow disappeared, they’d think he was crazy. “I found him like this.”

  Baron peered at Tim’s head. “Bullshit. You don’t get a gash like that just walking around. Either you two fought or you ran into something else.”

  Tim noted that Baron hadn’t said someone else. Maybe he could test the waters. “I ran into the sheriff.”

  Henry looked at him. “Down here? Not bloody likely. That fat bastard hasn’t come down here in years.”

  “If he was here with you, why didn’t we see him come out of the room?” Baron asked, lifting his torch to make sure there wasn’t anyone else in the room with them.

  This was the part of the conversation where he was going to lose them. “He just kind of vanished.” Tim shrugged. This was going about as well as could be expected.

  “How about you start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out,” Baron suggested as he pulled a small wooden club from behind his back.

  Fuck it. If they didn’t believe him and it came to a fight, Tim would pull his daggers and do what he had to. He started his story from when he woke up and ended it when they found him in the room. Henry looked skeptical, but Baron looked intrigued.

  “Let me see the back of your neck.” Baron motioned for Tim to turn around.

  Tim felt the man’s fingers brush against his neck. He waited to feel the club smash into the back of his skull, but the blow never came. He turned back around to see a disgusted look on Baron’s face.

  The inmate was rubbing his fingers together, and there was a clear-ish sticky liquid on them. It kind of looked like when someone covered up a big sneeze, only to find their hand covered in webs of unsightly snot.

  Baron wiped his fingers on the floor. “At least that part of your story is true.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I never would have guessed it was the sheriff. The man’s a little odd, but he’s never tried to harm us.”

  Henry looked at the two men. “I’m still not sold. For all we know, this fucker could be making it all up. Maybe he’s the one doing this to us.”

  Tim pointed at his own chest. “All this started before I got here. And if I wanted you all dead, why would I have healed the guy this
morning?”

  “Be an easy way to gain our trust,” Henry snarled as he stared daggers at Tim.

  “Easy now, kid.” Baron motioned for Henry to relax. “It might not make sense, but he’s telling the truth. What we need to do now is decide what we’re going to do with this new information.”

  Tim looked at their expectant faces, realizing they wanted him to come up with an answer. “The only thing I can think of to keep people safe is for them not to be alone. It was you guys approaching that saved my ass.”

  “But he left you alive.” Henry looked at Tim mistrustfully.

  Baron smiled. “Who’s going to believe him? Guy had a welt on his head the size of a lemon. Sheriff probably thought we’d do his dirty work for him.”

  “Let me see what I can do for him, and then we should get some rest.” Tim cocked an eyebrow at Baron. “I’m guessing none of these attacks happen during the day.”

  “No, they don’t. Let’s get Lenny up, and I’ll start spreading the word.” Baron joined Tim by Lenny’s side.

  It was a simple enough thing for Tim to cast cleanse on the man, and Lenny came out of his fevered state almost instantly. He looked around the room, almost as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Tim hit him with a healing orb to make sure he’d be all right, then stood up to leave.

  “Find me if there are any issues. Otherwise, I’ll meet you back in the vodka room around ten.” Tim ducked out the door.

  He was lucky Baron was a reasonable man. If the choice had been left up to Henry, Tim would probably be fighting for his life right now. His ability to heal might not have bought him nearly as much leeway as he would have liked.

  At least nobody had died since he’d joined the prisoners.

  As long as he could keep everyone alive, he had a chance of getting out of this place in one piece. All he wanted was to get back to the inn and fall asleep in ShadowLily’s arms. There was something to be said about the simple things in life. When you found someone you couldn’t live without, you had to hold onto them and never let go.