by N H Paxton
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Skill Unlocked!
Skill: Impaling Chaos
Instead of exploding on impact, Impaling Chaos causes the ShadowFire Bolt to penetrate the target a short distance before exploding, causing internal damage and penetrating defenses.
Skill Type/Level: Active/Level 1
Cost: 15 Spirit
Effect: Deals internal damage to the target, equivalent to your Ranged Attack Strength or Spell Attack Strength, whichever is higher. Half of this damage is shadow and half fire.
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Skill Unlocked!
Skill: Enhanced Explosive Aura
The explosive damage of ShadowFire Bolts is improved through the mitigation of energy bleed from the crystal.
Skill Type/Level: Passive/Level 1
Cost: None
Effect: Enhances the area of effect of the explosive blast from various attacks produced by the Reaper of Chaos by 10% per skill level
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I had no time to look at these things, so I dismissed them immediately. I would need to look at them later. So many things had happened so quickly, I didn’t know what to focus on. Dozens of people were injured, and half that many had been killed, either painfully or instantaneously. If that was what a raid boss was capable of doing, I didn’t want to experience one without a full raid group.
“Hey boss.” Garret’s gravelly voice came from behind me.
I closed my open interface windows and turned. He was covered in blood, gore, and some kind of muck. He stood with his hands on his hips, his weight shifted to one side. He had a questioning look on his face. Behind him stood Eberand and Ken.
“How’s about we get ready to head inside, eh?” Garret hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the gate.
I had completely lost track of time. I pulled up the notification about the Crimson Alliance taking the Command Center, and saw the timer was down to less than a minute.
“Yes, is time to take city.” I helped Anya stand. She gripped my hand and slowly gained her feet, offering me a smile that was gentle and kind.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she walked past me, a slight limp to her step. A half smile crept to my lips as the Ebenguard headed for the gate.
Karma is Bitch...
A SUDDEN GRINDING SOUND issued forth from the great gatehouse as the portcullis rose. A flood of mercenaries and Crimson Alliance fighters poured through the gates. Finally, we could take the fight inside the city. It would be a terrible thing to just lose the fight here, after we had worked so hard and lost so many. It was time to clear out the Imperial players, to make them pay for all they had done, everything they had taken from me.
Slowly, I followed the flow of soldiers into the city. It was chaos—buildings were on fire, there was rubble everywhere from the devastation of our cannon fire, and the streets were littered with the bodies of guards and citizens.
I pulled a cigarette from my inventory and used a nearby fire to light it. I inhaled the acrid smoke of the tobacco, letting it sit in my chest for a long while before exhaling through my nostrils. I took a moment to consider where I would go, trying to think systematically. I didn’t want to just wander around the city at random. I didn’t expect that I could take down too many players at once, and I didn’t want to get caught flat-footed.
“Is problem of mathematics.” I pulled up my map, doing a couple quick calculations. I assumed that a large number of the remaining Imperial-aligned players would likely be attempting to make a move toward the central tower, in order to take it back from us. Either that, or they would be trying to leave the city in a huge hurry. Those that were attempting a retreat would likely be annihilated by the advancing army, but those who were heading to the center would need to be dealt with.
“Glory seekers, probably.” Eberand pointed down an alleyway where a few approaching Imperial players were.
“Let’s cut ’em down.” Garret’s weapon was off his back and in his hand as quick as lightning. He hadn’t even taken two steps before Eberand grabbed his shoulder, yanking him backward.
“No, let other people deal with the rabble. We’ve got to protect Lord Vlad.” Eberand pointed at me, but his eyes were firmly fixed on Garret’s face.
“Is fine, statistics show is likely to run into players regardless. Will need to watch for attacks on tower, and will need to defeat pockets of defensible positions. You, go, do things. Have desires to chase down players here, Vlad will head to tower to defend.” I waved a hand in the air in the general direction of the Command Center. The Ebenguard turned to me as a whole. Ken and Garret were smiling, while Eberand and Anya were frowning.
“You’re sure?” Anya was moving much better now, her wounds apparently having healed completely. She had a look of concern on her face.
“Yes, now go. Vlad will be fine.” I gave her a reassuring smile, the best one I could offer.
She smiled in return, turned, and tore off down the alley where the Imperial players were. The other three members of the Ebenguard followed. I was peacefully alone, finally. Well, as peaceful as anyone in a city that was on fire, collapsing from structural damage, and littered with pockets of screaming and agony could be.
“Now,” I said to myself as I leaned against a wall, finishing my cigarette. “Best path to tower?” I rubbed the end of the cigarette out against the brick of the wall, then plotted a course to the center of Rowanheath.
I traveled through the hellish landscape cautiously, trying to use my Stealth skill to its fullest capabilities, which was virtually nothing. I was level 1 in the skill—there was no way it would be useful. However, when I managed to remain undetected as the first group of retreating players passed by, I thought that there were perhaps more facets involved in the Stealth skill than just being hidden. Distraction, for instance, seemed to play an important role.
“Oi, there they are!” A voice and the unsheathing of weapons came from around a corner at an intersection I was about to cross.
I peeked around a wall and saw a pair of Crimson Alliance members who were pretty severely injured being chased by a trio of Imperial players. The Imperial players caught up to the Alliance members, who struggled to escape.
I stepped out from the intersection and into the path. The Crimson Alliance members both stopped, fear written across their faces.
“Go, will take care of these fools.” I jerked my head toward the path I had just entered from, then took a couple steps forward. The injured people quickly took off down the road.
“Who the hell are you?” one of the Imperials demanded.
I recognized the brute of a Risi, Darvis, still carrying the same axe that killed Ina. Behind him stood the Murk Elf, Jacobin, with the twin swords, and next to him was the damned Wode who had set me on fire not once, but twice. I wasn’t sure if I was lucky or unlucky in this situation, but facing them here, unexpectedly, was not how I had envisioned seeing them again. I cursed the air as I stood there, my fingers trembling, not feeling the confidence I had boasted to the Alliance members who had just fled.
Fear overtook me, and for just a second, I considered bolting the same way I had told those other Alliance members to go.
I experienced my death again, I felt my throat crushed under the Risi’s grasp, then the cold kiss of unyielding stone as my body failed.
I relived the moment of Ina’s death, where she was thrown against the stone ceiling of the sewer like a rag doll, with no consideration for who she would be, who she could have become, the dreams she had.
I experienced it all, tenfold, and my body shook where I stood. Until the Risi spoke again.
“I said, who the fuck are you!? Are you deaf or something?” He spit on the ground as he stepped forward, his stride wide and cocky.
“He’s a dead shit is what he is,” Jacobin said, his words acid to my veins.
My resolve hardened slowly as I replayed the injustice of their actions.
“Aww, poor stupid baby. Do you want your mom—” The Wode’s l
ast words were cut off as I released a bolt from Gamma. It took the top half of his head clean off, and his body crumpled to the ground half a second later.
My rage boiled inside me like a fire, out of control and raging through a forest of dead wood. Ever consuming, ever burning, destroying everything in its path. Rationality was eaten away, burned as a sacrifice to the living embodiment of hatred that took up residence deep within my soul.
“Name is Vlad.” I spat the words out as a command, almost a bark. “Died twice to your hands in sewers in same city.” I took a step forward, my gaze locked on Darvis, who now had chunks of the Wode’s gray matter on the side of his face.
“You’re that fucking newbie we camped?” Jacobin wiped his clothes down, cleaning himself of the gore from his friend. “You’re what, like level 15? Please, what the hell can you do to us?” Jacobin drew his paired swords and popped his neck.
“Learned nothing?” I leveled Gamma at Jacobin, which caused him to take a half step backward. “Not same weakling you had fun with in sewers.”
“No, you’re not. Which means you’re worth a hell of a lot more XP!” The Risi charged me, his axe up in the air as he approached.
I had seen this move before and was ready for it. I sidestepped, then twisted my body slightly. As the axe came crashing down, I extended my hand toward his face and activated Purifying Fire, blasting him with a small, yet incredibly hot flame. His skin began to boil immediately as he recoiled, dropping his axe and grabbing at his face.
“Should not play with fire.” I kicked hard at the back side of his knee, dropping him to the ground. He landed with a wet thunk. I kicked him in the side of the head, receiving a satisfying crunch as my boot landed solidly in the temple. He wasn’t dead yet, but I didn’t need him dead.
I turned just in time to see the Murk Elf rushing me, his blades down for a piercing blow. As he approached, I wondered how many people he had used that same attack on. I triggered Overcharge and fired a Chaos Bolt at the ground in front of him. It struck, then followed the usual pattern. The explosion took him by surprise, causing him to use some kind of ability that allowed him to backflip. I was ready for his retreat and charged through the dust of the blast, shoulder-checking him before he landed. My shoulder caught him in the chest and I heard it rip the air out of his lungs with an ooof.
We tumbled to the ground in a heap, rolling a couple times. I used the momentum of my roll to bring me to my feet. He scrambled to stand, coughing and sputtering as he did so. He staggered for a moment before trying another rush attack.
I placed my palm against the wall on my left and triggered Dismantle. At level 3, the ability allowed me to destroy more complicated devices, and in fun and exciting ways. This time, I found a steam pipe running through the wall and forced it to rupture outwards. Jacobin was pelted with the debris from the brick wall exploding outward, then was coated in super-heated steam.
His body was thrown against the opposite wall from the blast. He slumped against it, coughing and hacking. He was covered in small, superficial wounds, and his exposed skin was blistered.
“You obnoxious shit.” Jacobin struggled to stand, using one of his swords as a brace to bring himself to a knee. “You might have some new toys, but so do I.”
He managed to get himself to a standing position, then leaned over, clenching the hilts of his swords. He groaned as he visibly tensed. His voice changed to a loud roar as a colored aura appeared around him. First it was a light blue, but it quickly changed to a deep violet, like the color of a shadow element. His body changed, taking on the shape of a werewolf. His weapons became part of his arms, almost like they were fused into the bone. His face contorted, and fangs ripped through his lips. His gaze returned to me, insanity burning in his eyes.
“Is impressive.” I nodded at the transformation, waving a dismissive hand at him as a whole.
“Shut up, dickwad.” He rushed at me, and I was unprepared for his improved speed. Before I had a chance to fully blink, he was on me, shoving me against the cold brick wall. I was lifted from my feet, my robes tearing against the rough bricks.
“Very fast.” I huffed as I kicked him in the chest, using the leverage of being against the wall to my advantage. He recoiled from the blow, a hiss issuing from his fanged mouth. I dropped to the ground and shifted as quickly as I could, sidestepping, trying to give myself some distance.
“You are going to die tonight!” He released a loud roar as he charged at me again. I prepared myself for the impact by folding my arms against my chest, but I hadn’t expected him to run his blades through my abdomen.
Ack. I spat as I doubled over. As my head fell, he ripped the blades from my body, then slammed my face with his knee. My head snapped back and then I was falling, completely against my own control. My Health bar flashed a brutal deep red, at less than 5%.
I had done the worst possible thing I could while fighting an enemy I thought I knew everything about: I had gotten cocky. Hundreds of times, when I made weapons for combat, I had seen superior numbers be annihilated due to their commander becoming overconfident in their capabilities. I was starting to reap the rewards of being foolhardy.
“How’s that? Getting tired yet? I can go all night.” Jacobin stood up straight, his body terrifyingly fierce looking.
I grew concerned as he slowly stalked toward me, my HP dangerously low from the piercing strike. I scrambled on the ground, trying to bring myself back to standing, but I couldn’t find the strength to rise.
At some point during the last few moments, I had managed to lose Gamma on the ground. My mind reeled as I struggled for some kind of defense, any way to survive the next attack. Jacobin raised his blades high in the air and brought them straight down.
I rolled my body sideways, trying to make my frame as narrow as possible.
The swords dug into the stone, mere centimeters from either side of me. They were so close, in fact, that I could feel their cutting edges working against my flesh, leaving small lacerations when I breathed.
“Stop squirming!” The fury on Jacobin’s face was terrible. He fell on top of me, his claws extended, ready to rip my face apart.
I yanked my dagger from my belt and jammed it into the soft flesh under his jaw. I didn’t have the strength I wanted since I was lying on my side, but it was enough to punch through a crucial artery. His eyes unfocused as he struggled at the dagger, now hanging from his throat.
“How?” It came out more of a gurgled bark than an actual question. He rose to his feet and staggered about for a second or two, before collapsing onto the dark stone of the alleyway. He stopped gasping, dying on the cold stone.
I slowly crawled my way clear of his extremely sharp weapons, which were still embedded into the stone, popping a Health regen potion from my belt and chugging the vile sludge. I had grown to hate the taste of those things, excessively sweet and entirely too flavorful. I stood, my body still giving me a hard time, the bar of my Health points slowly refilling. I felt the wounds in my gut close up, the searing agony from the injuries gone for the time being.
“So, two are gone, where is th—” I was lifted from the ground by an enormous hand, reaching from somewhere behind me. The fingers crammed themselves into my mouth. I felt my neck start to dislocate as I was slowly turned around.
“I’m here, asswipe. Thanks for the face full of fucking fire.” I saw him through blurred vision. The majority of his face was a mass of stiff blisters, one of his eyes was swollen shut, and the other was bloodshot. He had a stream of dried blood down the left half of his head from where I had crushed the bones of his temple.
“Ith goot wook for ew.” I gave him my best smile, award winning when my mouth was full of giant Risi fingers.
“The hell are you saying?” He removed his fingers from my mouth, hatred and confusion, in mixed measure, evident in his eyes.
“Is good look for you,” I said, trying to mimic the same smile I had done earlier.
“Fuck you!” The Risi pulled
his arm back, then threw me like a rag doll. I twisted through the air as I flew on a collision course with the wall, everything in my head screaming to curl, to roll, to do something to reduce the direct damage of the impact that was on its way like a speeding train.
I slammed into the wall, my back taking the brunt of the blow. My head snapped back as I struck it, a wet thunk resounding inside my skull.
Debuffs exploded across my interface. My vision went red, then half of the world went black.
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Debuffs Added
Partially Blinded: Your vision is reduced by 54%; duration, 1 minute
Concussed: You have sustained a severe head injury! Confusion and disorientation; duration, 1 minute.
Partial paralysis: The lower half of your body is paralyzed from spinal trauma! You are unable to move your legs or stand; duration, 2 minutes.
Fractured Arm: You cannot use your left arm and cannot cast mage spells requiring hand gestures; duration, 2 minutes.
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I slid down the wall, my body a heap of uselessness. I clearly had failed to take into consideration that I hadn’t killed Darvis. I should have ended him when I had the chance. But the line I’d fed him was pure genius. If only it hadn’t ended in me being slammed into a wall at forty kilometers per hour.
“You might have killed them,” he grunted as he stalked forward, “but I won’t go down so easily.” The world spun and twirled, part of my Concussed debuff. I tried to stand, but I couldn’t keep my balance and my legs refused to work. My Health points were back in the red. If ever I needed an intervention, it was now. But Alvinoth had already saved me twice, and I wasn’t about to be saved a third time.
Darvis picked me up, my head between his hands, and he started to squeeze. I felt the pressure in my skull increase immediately. His Strength must have been unbelievably high.
I tried to kick him, but my legs refused to move thanks to the Paralysis debuff I was suffering from. I grabbed the back of his hand with my good arm and tried to pull it away, anything to stop him from killing me a third time.