Viridian Gate Online- Vindication

by N H Paxton

  As the Zombie collapsed, there was an explosion of purple black from all around the enemy group as massive, terrifying, and completely disconcerting tentacles sprang from the floor and grasped at the monsters. I stood still, my mouth agape in awe as Jack went to work. His hand was flying through the air, making all sorts of crazy motions. I had seen this kind of thing before, though never on the good side of it. He was casting some kind of spell, and based on the extremely long time he stood there, completely open to attack, it was going to be powerful.

  “Come on!” Jack shouted as he finally finished the incantation.

  I thought for a moment it was too late as Jack took several arrows to the body, dropping him to his knees. I didn’t have time to think before I was running to Jack’s side. Those arrows would drastically reduce our tactical advantage, and I needed to ensure that I—no, that we—completed the quest with minimal casualties.

  Cutter appeared next to me as we worked the shafts out of Jack’s gut and leg, tossing them aside. I snagged one of the Health regen potions that had been dropped by a monster earlier and shoved it into Jack’s hand.

  “No dying, yes?” I gave him a smirk as I turned, fired off an errant crossbow bolt, and then retreated a few steps away.

  He gave the potion a single, hard pull, then choked as his eyes finally saw the fruit of his labor. He lobbed the vial to the side, then charged the broken, and mostly defeated, ranks of enemies.

  Cutter disappeared and reappeared among the disarray, his blades doing terrifying amounts damage. I had run out of crossbow bolts with my last shot, and switched to my dagger, but I wasn’t about to stand in the fray like those two. I did my best to take an advantageous position and hoped I would score some damage while keeping myself out of direct attack radius.

  A series of arrows and a couple smaller firebolts launched in our direction, but were intercepted by Jack with his purple bubble thing. With every passing moment, my respect and trust in him grew. We had downed a large portion of the enemies when the pair of Rat Kings charged at us. Jack completely disappeared from view, then suddenly reappeared as a Rat Kings’ decapitated head smacked into the wall of the cramped passageway.

  My voice went completely silent as I tried to shout for Jack’s attention as a pair of large flaming spheres arced through the air at him. He got his hand up in front of himself, like he did when he summoned the purple bubble, but nothing happened. He was thrown into the air, spinning around like a top before smacking into a wall.

  The Rat King charged, and I just stood there watching. Within just a moment, while Jack downed a potion, the Rat King was on top of him, claw raised in an overhead strike. I tried to move, I tried to help, but I was frozen, just like when Ina was killed by those players.

  The creature struck, but Jack defended himself with an arm. Almost as if by divine favor, Cutter appeared next to the beast in a puff of smoke, and the Rat King held its throat as it sunk to the floor. The edges of Cutter’s knives dripped a deep red, clearly blood from the Rat King. The rest of the hallway was empty; everything had been slain between the two of them.

  Cutter helped Jack up as I walked among the bodies.

  “Everyone good?” Jack’s voice filtered through the passageway as I snatched a couple silver coins from one of the Zombie Warriors they had downed.

  “Is good,” I said as I picked up a bolt pouch loaded with Crossbow Bolt +1 ammunition and a nice, shiny silver dagger with a bonus to Intelligence. “These monsters,” I muttered as I moved about, waving at them unceremoniously, “they carry silver, no copper. Real silver, and gear is...” I was having a hard time believing that creatures of this type could drop equipment as nice as they were. “Already found Fine Dagger with +2 Intelligence, and High Quality Light Armor.” I looked at the two of them with a smile on my face. “Much better than all I have seen.”

  I faltered, realizing I had made a mistake. They had done all the work, and I had forgotten to let them loot the creatures.

  “Apologies,” I said, shaking my head at myself. I could feel the red creeping up my cheeks. “You did all work, you and Cutter. This, all is yours.” I gestured to all of the creatures that were still left to be looted, then shuffled away slowly, ashamed of myself.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it.” Jack shrugged as though it weren’t a big deal. “I’ve already had more than my fair share of lucky breaks. Why don’t you take this stuff?” He gave me a sincere smile, but I wasn’t sure. I had been tricked before, but I desperately needed better gear. I eyed him for a minute, waiting for the trap to spring, but it never came.

  I shrugged at Jack, then set back to work. The equipment and items I found were astounding, compared to the garbage I was wearing. There were also a couple rare commodities, including a Silvered Spring, a few chunks of Pristine Bone, and a Rat King’s Fang. I stashed those away for later. I equipped the few pieces of light armor I had found, as well as a new crossbow and the dagger with the Intelligence bonus.

  The most exciting part was the equipment upgrade material I found. It was a rare drop called a Bile Stone. I turned it over in my hands a couple times, watching the amber-like facets of it move and shift, then shoved it into my bag.

  <<<>>>

  Rare Ingredient: Bile Stone

  A Bile Stone is created when a creature of the Plague Tunnels consumes a great amount of flesh all at once. Since the Plagued Exiles are incapable of metabolism, the flesh sits within the rotting, grotesque bile, crystallizing into a solid piece of disgusting Amber-like material.

  <<<>>>

  I looked at my gear after I had equipped it all and smiled.

  <<<>>>

  Doublet of Avoidance

  Armor Type: Light; Modified Cloth

  Class: Uncommon

  Base Defense: 14

  Primary Effects:

  +1 to Dexterity

  + 5% Movement Speed in Combat

  <<<>>>

  Thick Woolen Leggings of Thought

  Armor Type: Light; Woven Cloth

  Class: Uncommon

  Base Defense: 8

  Primary Effects:

  +2 to Intelligence

  +15% Casting Speed

  <<<>>>

  Light Cloth Gloves

  Armor Type: Light; Natural Cloth

  Class: Common

  Base Defense: 4

  <<<>>>

  Dagger of the Mage Guard

  Weapon Type: Dagger

  Class: Uncommon, Light

  Base Damage: 12

  Primary Effects:

  +2 to Intelligence

  <<<>>>

  Dartfire Crossbow

  Weapon Type: Engineered; Crossbow

  Class: Rare, One-handed

  Base Damage: 18

  Primary Effects:

  Quick Load: Loads 15% Faster Small Payload: Bolts fired from the Dartfire Crossbow lose weight when fired, but have improved piercing damage as a result. Augmentation: 15% lighter bolt, 15% bonus to piercing damage, 15% decrease in range.

  <<<>>>

  After the gear, I was sixty-five silver richer, which was considerable. I hadn’t even seen that much currency since setting foot in this world.

  We carried on down the tunnel, fighting off another couple groups of enemies. It was around an hour before we arrived at an intricately carved, hideously engraved door. It featured the face of a demon, which was surrounded by the same pulsing green runes that were on the Plague Tunnels door.

  I stood there, mouth agape, as I took in the image. If there was anything in my life that would cause nightmares, it was this door. The more I looked at the door, the more I recognized it. It was the terrifying demon-god I had seen during the game’s introductory sequence, Serth-Rog, the Prince of Morsheim. The relief had striking, pure emerald eyes, gigantic goat horns that twisted in on themselves, and terrifying fangs. In the middle of the forehead was a bloody handprint, which seemed to just spell misfortune. We all stared for a while, but we needed to move on.

  “Well.” I cl
eared my throat after saying it. “Door not going to open self.” I wasn’t going to be the one to open it, but I felt like something needed to be said to break the tension.

  Jack shifted in front of me, cautious, but still a leader. He nodded firmly as he spoke.

  “Yeah, you’re right. We just need to get in there and do this.” He radiated resolve, then turned to Cutter and I with an awkward half smile. “I’ve got a sinking feeling this might not pan out so well. If things look like they’re going to go sideways, I’ll stick behind and cover the retreat. You guys just focus on getting clear, and Vlad”—he stuck an accusatory finger at me and I took a half step backward—“leave the fighting to us. Your only job here is to get the items you need to complete your quest. We’ll take care of everything else. Everyone got it?”

  He seemed like a leader worthy of following, right then. In the darkness of the tunnels, he had won my respect. Very few leaders I’d had the displeasure of dealing with had ever put their own well-being after those they were leading. This man, this Grim Jack, he was the real thing.

  I nodded my assent, as did Cutter. Jack spun around. The world melted before my eyes as he placed his hand on the demon’s forehead. I felt like I was falling through the sky again, like I had been tossed at the beginning of the game.

  I collapsed onto my ass when I landed, my body not quite ready to be thrown through space-time. My ears perked up as I was assailed by the tainted sound of unholy chanting.

  Sickly orange torchlight illuminated a torture chamber. I had seen one used in the Dark Ages while touring one of Russia’s oldest castles, and this one matched everything I remembered. The walls were octagonal, the room was unnecessarily large, and the entire place was made of crude stone bricks. The floor was riddled with tables, some with bodies strapped to them, others with implements intended for bodily harm. There was a row of cages on the far left wall, their rusted iron caked with blood, full of people of every race. The other walls were covered in bleached white skulls, their empty gazes burning into my soul.

  On the shelves of the far wall, directly opposite where we were standing, sat the items I sought. I had told Jack and Cutter I needed alchemy ingredients to finish my quest line, since it was in line with my class, but I spotted the grimoire on a shelf. It lay on its side, radiating a thin outline of light. On the same shelf sat a number of bottles, jars, and glass containers. They were full of rare ingredients, I had no doubt. That was my target.

  There was, of course, a complication.

  In the center of the room, chanting in a terribly unsettling way, stood a series of robed cultists. They were marching about the outside of what looked like a summoning circle, if I were to ever imagine one. The image on the floor appeared to be painted in blood, which made my skin crawl. There were a great number of complex lines, and I didn’t want to think about how many people had been sacrificed in order to achieve this. To make matters worse there was an incredibly ominous, swirling mass of pure energy in a cloud around the painted circle. Occasionally, tongues of filthy energy would slip out and reach for the circle in a slow, lazy motion.

  “Cutter.” A booming voice cut off my inner thoughts and demanded attention. The voice was warm, inviting, like a parent welcoming someone home for the summer from university.

  I had somehow missed the several thieves in their dark leathers prowling about. I assumed that was their intent. One of them shuffled toward our group, removing the cowl from his head. It revealed a middle-aged Wode with wavy raven hair, a pencil-thin mustache, and a smile that would win any argument. He reminded me of the front men in the mob—all talk, with diamond-laced silver tongues.

  “I had intended on finding you,” the man said, his hand lying dangerously on a long, needle-thin blade on his hip. “But then you slipped off before we had a chance to speak.”

  “Cut the horseshite,” Cutter said, his voice full of venom. He stepped ahead of the group, his blades in his hands in a flash. He spun them on his palms absentmindedly. “Everyone here knows you’re not Georgie. You might look like him, but you’re not. Georgie wasn’t what anyone would call a good man, but he’d never get mixed up in something like this—it’d hurt his bottom line too much. Now,” Cutter spat out, his eyes glinting in a horrifying way, “I want to know where the real Georgie is. I want to know what you’ve done with him, and I want to know what this”—Cutter stopped and waved a dagger at the room as a whole—“is. What kind of black magic are you about, eh?”

  At this point, I started slowly edging my way toward the bookshelves, trying to move without drawing attention, while Cutter continued his discussion with Georgie, or imposter Georgie, or whoever he was. I was only a half dozen steps away when Cutter shouted.

  “You’re a monster!” Cutter lunged at the end of his shout, a whirlwind of blades and anger and hatred.

  One of the thieves was headed my way. I pulled my crossbow and fired a shot.

  “Go get your quest ingredient!” Jack shouted at me, taking a few steps, reaching out, and giving me a firm push.

  Behold that which dooms world...

  I FELL TO THE GROUND from the push, but managed to keep moving. I crawled a few paces before standing back up and heading for the shelving. The battle raged on behind me, the sound of chaos engulfing the ritualistic chanting.

  I reached the shelves and started grabbing everything on them. I tossed in a solid number of low-quality items, a few old books, and then my hand landed on the grimoire. I felt it thrum beneath my grasp as I lifted it from the old, wooden storage shelves. I felt invigorated as I looked at the cover. It showed a scene debossed in the leather, a man standing over a workbench, vials and various implements strewn about. I opened the pages and was transported to another time.

  The battle behind me vanished. Instead, I stood in an old workshop, the same room I was just in. Now, or whenever I was, the room was filled with young members of various races rushing about with vials, components, and equipment. I stood in the middle of the room, watching it all happen, when the man who was detailed on the cover turned from a gilded workbench. Seeing him live was a shock. He was an extremely tall Dawn Elf, his body rippled with sinewy muscle. His skin was tinged a deep red, possibly from years in front of a forge.

  “Vlad, it’s good to see you. We don’t have a lot of time, as you can see. We’re in the final phases of evacuating. They’re going to seal the Tunnels, something about a plague.” He clasped me on the shoulder and turned me about, showing me the room.

  “What is happen here?” I was severely confused, but the man chuckled, then stepped in front of me.

  “This is the workshop, Vlad. You’ve been here countless times before, and now it’s time for you to pack up your gear and find a new place.” I had a large book placed in my hands, followed by a series of other tools. He looked at me and scoffed. “Oh, but you need your bag, of course.”

  He handed me a large bag, which looked to be crafted out of some kind of expertly made leather.

  “This is because...?” I was still confused. He didn’t seem to mind. I began thoughtlessly shoving items into the bag while I stared at him.

  “Because you’re the last Alchemic Weaponeer to leave the workshop, Vlad. I’m going to, well...” He faltered, his eyes growing heavy with sadness. “I’m going to stay here and make sure our secrets stay safe.”

  The man, who now looked so much smaller than he originally did, stepped over to his workbench and leaned against it. He looked like he was experiencing a mix of pain and remembrance.

  “I see. Anything Vlad can do to help?” I felt like I needed to help this man, whose name escaped me at that moment. I could hear it in the back of my head, like a misplaced memory, but my lips refused to speak it.

  “Yes, help the young Engineers and Alchemists pack their goods, would you? I’m going to—” His words were cut off as the sound of an explosion ripped through the workshop.

  “Oh gods no!” One of the young apprentices was caught in the explosion as flames shot
through the doorway, setting him alight.

  “What is this!?” The man, who I somehow knew was named Alvinoth, grabbed a huge hammer and headed to the door, where there was now a stream of crazed Wodes forcing their way through.

  “They’ve broken through! Everyone, to your positions!” Another of the apprentices, taking command of the situation, began shouting orders.

  There was a flurry of crossbows twanging as ordnance flew through the air. Tables and benches were overturned in a hurry, creating makeshift barricades, as the workshop suddenly turned into a battleground. My eyes lighted on one of the Wodes long enough to see their tag: [Exiled Broken One]. Well, that was unsettling.

  “Vlad, take your things! Get out of here!” Alvinoth shouted through the din of battle as he crushed the skull of a psychotic, half-clothed Wode. It collapsed to the ground, but two more took its place as they continued to pour through the breach in the door.

  “Vlad can help!” I yelled back to him and tried to run in his direction, but I was forced back by a concussive blast of some kind. I had just enough time to get my arms in front of my face before I was peppered with shrapnel. It felt like I was being stung by a thousand bees at once.

  “It’s too late, Vlad! Take your knowledge, get to safety!”

  I was raised from the ground against my will and carried in the air toward a tunnel in the ceiling. I caught sight of Alvinoth pulling a large device from a slotted belt around his waist. He twisted the top, then twisted the bottom as he was being overrun by crazed Wodes. He looked up at me, held the device in the air, and gave me a thumbs-up, his expression a mix of bloodlust and knowing he was going to take everything down with him.

  I was through the opening of the tunnel before a blast wave hit me, followed by intense heat, scorching my exposed flesh. I felt like I was being cooked alive, until my body reached the outside air, blessedly cool against my charred skin. I looked down as a gout of flame shot from the brick exhaust vent in the ground, which promptly collapsed.