by Tim Johnson
One man, the Samurai who was next to the witch, stepped forward for a closer look at Christian, his head cocked to one side, though any expression was unreadable, hidden by the snarling face of the Samurai helmet.
“He has an incredible Ice-Affinity,” the Samurai said. The voice was softer and more feminine than Christian had expected.
Sulfur jabbed his finger at the witch. “I told you not to go easy on him.” He yanked at the gold chain; the witch’s skin hissed as it touched the chain’s sparkling links.
The witch growled up at him. Sulfur stared her down.
Sulfur pointed at Christian. “Again. More.”
The witch let out a scream and flung out her arm towards Christian. A great blizzard leapt from her finger, cascading towards him.
He could feel the same calling inside him and immediately tuned into it.
The temperature dropped as the ice lashed against his skin.
Christian tried to fight back the blizzard as best as he could. At first, for a brief moment, it almost felt good, like the cold was regenerating him, but the ice quickly covered his fists, and the sensation slowly morphed to the deep crushing feeling of frostbite.
He’d felt that before. He was pushing through the frozen trees, he had been out there with his men for days, never sleeping, always moving, killing and more killing.
But it wasn’t enough.
Notifications rung, no doubt warning him of his impending death. He ignored the pain and tried to connect with the blizzard.
He could feel it. He could feel the ice call to him, and he tried to answer, tried to bend it to his will.
But it was too much, and the ice slowly covered his face and arms. His eyes were freezing. He blinked them furiously, trying to keep them open before they froze shut.
Obey me.
Then he heard a chime.
New skill unlocked!
Passive Effect: Cold Stoic I
A cold heart for cold deeds.
+5% health regeneration while in cold environments.
+5% damage dealt while in cold environments.
-5% on damage received while in cold environments.
Christian could barely read the words. His vision was tunneling. He realized he was about to die, again, when there was a respite from the pain. He heard a violent scream.
Christian blinked away the ice from his eyes.
The Samurai had strayed too close to the platform and the witch had turned her ice blizzard against him. The man was almost frozen solid.
Sulfur acted quickly, pulling the witch off her feet by wrenching her gold leash.
The big woman, Kari, threw a potion across to her comrade. The Viking poured the potion over the mask of the Samurai. Christian saw the notification of +100 HP appear above the icy victim, restoring him.
Sulfur dragged the witch along the ground closer to him by the leash. He then brought the loose end of the chain down as a whip.
The witch howled in pain Sulfur lashed down blows on her. With each strike smoke leapt from her like she was a burning human garbage bag. She tried to scramble away from Sulfur, but he had her.
Sulfur’s merciless blows with the chain shredded her clothing and hacked away her health. Christian saw her naked back crisscrossed with deep, old scars. Eventually she stopped defending herself.
He’s killed her.
Sulfur finally stopped, panting, his forehead shining with sweat.
He picked the witch up by her torn rags with one hand like she was roadkill and flung her back into the box. The guards quickly secured the panel of the crate. Sulfur kept the sparkling chain in his hand and, with his other, he wiped his brow.
Surely, she’s dead?
Just then Christian saw a green light briefly emit from the box.
What is that? Another spell?
The Viking returned to his chalkboard and let out a small cough. “The wanderer shows an excellent affinity with ice magic, sir.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Sulfur snapped. He stared up at Christian, jaw flexing.
Christian was cold, wet and shivering, but he wouldn’t be intimidated. He held his chin up and looked down his nose at Sulfur.
“Not so delicate after all,” he said.
Sulfur snorted and gave Christian a sinister smile. “Yes. You’re full of surprises. Perhaps you will be some value to Knight Lord Sark after all.” He rounded on his men. “I’ve learnt what I need. Take him away.”
Christian was finally released, the clasps from his forehead and neck undone. Shackles were placed back around his wrists. He was hauled off the platform, past the wooden crate which held the witch, and led out into the corridor.
But in all the confusion Sulfur’s soldiers had made a mistake. They had forgotten to place the hood back over his head and they had shackled his wrists in front of him, not behind.
So, Christian didn’t struggle. Despite having endured this terrible torture, he forced his mind to be analytical. He scanned everything as they dragged him through the fortress. Catching sight of the window, he saw what he felt could well be Beaverton far in the distance and two other turrets connected by a huge hall. It was enough to get him orientated. He knew where he was in the fortress and where he needed to go.
He let the men take him down the steps.
Ahead, he heard shouts. Then there was Alexia. Bound and hooded, she was being escorted towards the way he had just come from by Sark’s men.
Oh my god, no.
“Alexia,” he called out.
“Christian?” she shouted in confusion beneath her hood. She tried to shake off her guards.
“Don’t you dare,” Christian growled at the men.
“Oh, and what will you do about it, wanderer?” her guard said.
Christian’s temper flared. He gripped the guard’s shirt and snapped his head forward into the guard’s face.
Sulfur’s elites responded, hauling him off the guard and shoving Christian face-first into the wall, punching him in the kidneys as he tried to fight them off. He was hit with a punch so powerful it took a chunk of his health and winded him.
“Get his hood on,” someone shouted.
Christian’s head was enveloped in black; he quit struggling.
Alexia is strong. She will fight through it.
Sulfur’s soldiers dragged him as easily as if he was a child across several corridors until they finally stopped. He heard a key unlock and he was shoved forwards. The door slammed behind him and he was locked in.
“Welcome to your new home,” Kari said through the door.
Christian heard their footsteps disappear down the corridor.
He was alone.
It took him a while to get off the hood. He was in a tiny cell. It consisted of a small wooden cot, an empty chest, a piss bucket and a tiny window. He was still high up in the fortress. It was a sheer drop. The door was made from solid wood, braced with iron and securely locked.
He sat on the bed.
Shit.
Despite everything, a wave of deep exhaustion suddenly hit him. It caught him off guard.
When did I last sleep?
He had been hauled into court, frozen for two years, transported into a game world, killed twice and tortured to near-death multiple times.
And that’s what they’re going to do to Alexia. Right now. Because of me.
Thoughts of sleep vanished.
Stay active, Christian. Figure this out.
He turned everything over in his mind. Replaying what had happened. The notifications were something he needed to think on more. This was a game and he needed to understand how it worked.
For the first time in his life he wished he had spent less time military training and more time playing video games. He felt like an idiot for not knowing this stuff.
Levels, health potions, affinities. There must be some kind of place to view this information. Some kind of status screen or somethi…
Christian didn’t need to finish the thought.
> When he had thought the word ‘status screen’ a grid had appeared in his vision. First, gold tracing had appeared in a huge box and then it filled, with words and numbers scrolling up.
Despite his terrible situation, he felt some satisfaction.
This is an absolute treasure trove of information.
His stats lay before him:
Christian Lawson
Level: 2
Build: KnightAffinity: Ice
Health: 100/100Mana 100/100
XP: 375/500
Stats:
Points to Distribute: 5
Strength 5 – Stamina 5 – Intelligence 5 – Dexterity 5 – Willpower 5
9
Christian carefully looked at his Status Screen.
Christian Lawson
Level 2
Build: KnightAffinity: Ice
Health: 100/100Mana 100/100
XP: 375/500
Stats:
Points to Distribute: 5
Strength 5 – Stamina 5 – Intelligence 5 – Dexterity 5 – Willpower 5
The number ‘five’ next to points to distribute pulsed. As Christian looked at it a small box popped up.
Distribute stat points?
Not knowing what he should do, Christian thought ‘no’ and the box disappeared. He looked at each of the attributes, hoping to gain more understanding, and as he did so a small description box popped up.
Strength: The skill of a warrior. Strength will allow you to crush your enemies. This helps you in the brute force of battle.
So, this is how Alexia and Sulfur were so strong, they have more points than me in strength.
Stamina: Your life force. High stamina will increase your HP and the amount of damage you can take before dying. Each stat point will grant you 20 HP.
Intelligence: The skill of a mage. This affects how powerful your magic is, your connection to your mana and the strength of your spells.
Dexterity: The beautiful art of combat. Dexterity effects your speed and your skill with a weapon and how hard you are to hit.
Willpower: This is your depth of mana that you can draw to cast magic. A high Willpower will increase your MP reserves. Each stat point will grant you 20 MP.
It seemed like he had five points to invest. Over five key stats?
Well, that makes things easy.
He was going to just put one point in each box when suddenly a thought occurred to him. He could load up more points in one area than the other.
With five points and five stats to invest in, the options have magnified dramatically.
He thought on it further. Would Intelligence allow him to do more with his natural ice-magic affinity? For some reason, Sark’s men hadn’t expected him to have it. Should he invest in this edge and throw all his points in Intelligence?
But he was a warrior, that is what he knew, and he had hated being man-handled and beaten down. The thought of how outmatched he was against Sulfur in speed, strength and skill disgusted him. He decided to invest three points in Intelligence and two in Strength.
He went back to the screen and the same prompt came up again.
Distribute stat points?
This time he thought ‘yes’ and a he heard a small bell ring while golden writing scrolled across the top right hand of his screen.
He mentally invested his points. Two in strength and three in intelligence and watched the numbers tick upwards.
Christian Lawson
Level 2
Build: Knight Affinity: Ice
Health: 100/100Mana 100/100
XP: 375/500
Stats:
Points to Distribute: 0
Strength 7 – Stamina 5 – Intelligence 8 – Dexterity 5 – Willpower 5
With no guns or advanced weaponry to settle the odds he knew he needed to understand this world and master this system.
At the bottom of the Status Screen were three tabs: Skills, Quests and Inventory.
He clicked on the Skills tab and two skills showed up.
Passive Effect: Cold Stoic I
A cold heart for cold deeds.
+5% health regeneration while in cold environments.
+5% damage dealt while in cold environments.
-5% on damage received while in cold environments.
Ice Strike I
Your cold intentions have been brought forth by channeling your ice mana through your weapon.
Deal +20% melee damage
Cost: 25 mana
Cooldown: 10 seconds
Okay, so this is where I will be able to catalog my skills. Things are finally starting to make sense.
He opened his Inventory and it unfurled in his vision as a neat grid, with the items he was wearing in boxes along with a small coin count in the top right-hand corner. He had one piece of copper, zero silver and zero gold.
So, I kept my clothes and copper coin but lost my dagger… I was disarmed in the fight, perhaps that is why? The manacles secured on my wrists and ankles also don’t show up. He clicked on the pants. He was given a brief description of his trousers: ‘Rough spun wool Peasant Trousers, armor +1,’ then next to it was a button that read: ‘un-equip?’
Hmm.
He mentally thought un-equip and was shocked to immediately be naked from the waist down.
Yet the trousers were still in his Inventory.
How interesting. Could others see what he had in his Inventory? He guessed not. So, a place to hide things. Suddenly equipping or un-equipping items could be an interesting tactic to gain an advantage over an enemy.
Though all I can do right now is shock them by getting immediately naked.
He tested this, un-equipping and re-equipping his rough spun wool pants, flashing between being dressed and butt-naked from the waist down.
A horrific blood-curdling scream from Alexia echoed in the distance.
They were torturing her, and he was just standing there naked.
Christian stopped messing around. He thought ‘equip’ and his trousers re-appeared.
That’s where he saw another item in his inventory. Ring of Valor – Soulbound. 5% increase in Damage.
My uncle left me that ring.
It was like his uncle was speaking to him. Christian exited the menu and sat on the small bed. He turned the ring over in his hand, inspecting its detailed carving. The shape of an ax and a sword crossed over on the base of a shield stared back at him. His uncle was the only family he knew of and this ring was now his only item from that world.
In his last mission, back in the real world, he had finally seen a life for himself beyond the military. He had imagined staying in the Altai Mountains and making it his home. Far from the choking smog of New London. He had seen his future life so clearly. He had felt complete, finally more than just a soldier; a vision of himself as a husband, maybe even a father. But everything had gone so wrong.
Is Valeria my second chance?
He took a deep breath and could feel his resolve stiffen. He would help Alexia and his uncle. He had his own scores with Sulfur and Sark to settle now too. And he always settled his scores, that was one thing he had done well.
He pulled up the Status Screen and this time opened the Quest tab. In one column it detailed the things he had done, namely escaped the Red Keep and rescued Arthur Podsworth.
At the very top was the quest:
Quest: Overthrow Knight Lord Sark.
He who wishes to rule your world, already has power yet untold.
To beat him, you must be brave and bold, and build an army you can trust and mold.
Another scream from Alexia.
Damn them.
He fought his instinct to try and kick down the door. It was, after all, giving into his fighting instincts that had got them into this nightmare in the first place.
He inspected the lock instead. It was a relatively simple three or four tumbler lock. As a special forces soldier, Christian had been trained in the basics of lock picking, and this one could definitely be pic
ked. But he would need two pieces of malleable metal to do it and a lever.
He mentally added that to his own checklist and was disappointed to not receive a notification saying ‘Quest: Pick the lock’ or ‘items added to list’ or something useful like that.
But he wouldn’t let that deter him. He got on all fours, inspecting the chest to see if there were any nails he could work loose. He managed to lose 1 HP and damage a fingernail from picking at a nail head before calling it a day. Dark had fallen and he couldn’t see what he was doing.
He retreated to his cot and stared up into the black.
In the morning he woke suddenly to the march of footsteps approaching his cell. A thick bolt slid across the door.
That dead bolt would make picking the lock pretty much useless, was his first thought of the day.
The door swung back to reveal three of Sarks soldiers; two men and the tall female from the torture room. Christian took a second to recognize the big woman.
Kari Skoorgard
Ranger
Level: 25
All three had their weapons out, in case Christian tried anything.
“Hood on,” Kari said.
Christian pulled the rough hood over his head while he felt the soldiers surround him.
He tensed up for a moment, thinking he was in for another beating but instead he was dragged up to his feet and walked firmly out of his cell.
They led Christian up and down stairs, around corners, and along lengthy corridors, until he lost track of his location. After a good twenty minutes they made it outside. The brisk air caught him off-guard.
They pulled his hood off. The day was gray and cold, with gloomy clouds above them. In the distance he heard the echo of thunder.
He was on a raised stone platform, eight-feet high, that surrounded a training pit in a circular keep. High walls framed the side. The pit was filled with wet gravel, like a small gladiator’s ring.