The Monolith

by Stephen Roark

  “Uh, guys?” Jacob said from behind us. But I didn’t even have to turn—I knew what he was looking at.

  Ahead of us, beyond the rise of a hill particularly clustered with headstones that sprung from the ground like stony whiskers, was a monstrous man, at least eight feet tall, his muscles engorged like they were ready to burst. His skin was pale green, like he’d started to go rotten from the inside out, and he wore a pair of pants so tattered and frayed that they’d turned into shorts that hung just above the knee. His top half was almost completely concealed by a piece of dark purple fabric that draped across him like a cloak, and in his two gigantic hands, he clutched the largest axe I’d ever seen. It seemed to have been a shovel at one time, but an entire half of it had been shaved down into a semi-serration, and the handle shone with a burnish that spoke of years of use under the monster’s giant hands.

  “So much meat…” His voice chattered through the thick air like drill bits scoring holes in a tree. “And what to do with it all?”

  Gravekeeper Boucher—Level 10.

  “So much meat…” he continued, apparently oblivious to our presence as he sank the makeshift blade of his weapon into the decaying body of a Corpse Eater. Congealed, old blood spat everywhere as he began to hack the thing to pieces. “Meat, meat, meat. But you are not bound for the graves. No, no, no…”

  “Level 10?!” Fujiko whispered as he lumbered through the graves in a path that would eventually lead him to us. “Do you think we can take him?”

  But before the words were barely out of her mouth, old Boucher turned his thick head and his eyes, which seemed to sparkle with an inner light, found us. I’d expected a horrible roar, or scream or some kind of fierce battle cry. But instead, the massive man simply cocked his head to the side as though he’d just spotted some curious enigma.

  “’Ello there,” he spoke, a hint of lethality beneath his amiable, almost gentlemanly tone. “’Ave you brought more meat for me?!”

  31

  A Grim Gentleman, but a Gentleman None The Less

  “Anything is a weapon in the right hands!”

  —unknown Seeker

  Gravekeeper Boucher’s demeanor stood in sharp contrast to his monstrous appearance and physique. He seemed almost happy to see us, but for all the wrong reasons. I felt Fujiko tense up beside me as the behemoth stared us down.

  “It’s been some time since I buried a fresh one,” he remarked, eyeing us up and down in a way an experienced butcher would look at his livestock. This wasn’t some out-of-its-mind zombie-like corpse creature with mindless rage; this was…a gentleman almost, but there was no mistaking what his intentions were. “But, an undertaker’s duty is an undertaker’s duty! Wouldn’t you agree?”

  For some reason, I actually started to respond. “I mean, yeah, I guess—”

  His speed was blinding and the only part of me that registered his attack was my chest as his axe sank into it.

  -180

  Shit!

  I looked up as the hulking brute rose up again to swing.

  I’m toast, I thought.

  Altarus’ Winchester rang out like the cry of a savior. Blood splashed from Boucher’s neck, but only a sliver of health fell away. It wasn’t a riposte, but it was enough to break his concentration. I threw myself to the side and rolled, slamming into a headstone as I fumbled with a vial of Soothing Syrup.

  “Ah, you wish to engage me, gunslinger?!” the Gravekeeper remarked, almost with amusement. The healing liquid hit the back of my throat as Boucher dashed forward, his monstrous calves sending shattered shards of stone into the air. Altarus was taken off his feet by an upward strike from the Shovel Axe that seemed to pull the very air along with it.

  “Gah!” he cried out, his body arching backwards like a pole vaulter’s after they cleared the bar and came soaring back down to the mat. As he fell, Jacob rose up to fire a Mortal Arrow, but Boucher simply swatted him away with the back of his hand like an angry man might swat a gnat.

  Jacob’s health vanished as he hit the ground.

  Oh shit, I thought as I gulped down another syrup and leapt to my feet as Fujiko brought her hammer down hard against the man’s back. I heard the sound of a massive and watched as a good chunk of his health fell away.

  “Oh, you dishonorable slime!” Boucher cried out as he spun.

  “Fujiko, duck!” I shouted, but it was too late. His axe hit her so hard in the waist I was half expecting it to cleave her in two. It did more than that to her health, though. One more hit would surely end her life. I watched as his Shovel Axe came down, and without hesitation, I Shadowstepped in front of her.

  A brief look of surprise registered on the man’s enormous eyes as my Blunderbuss blew in his face, spattering his sickly skin with its slugs.

  Doooooommmmm!

  The riposte was good, and my colossal foe sank to his knees.

  -65

  I guess that Quint I put into Viletaint is doing some good! I thought as I threw all my weight into my follow up attack.

  MASSIVE!

  265

  Boucher coughed and cried out a moan as I tugged my blade free amidst a spray of crimson that shot through the night like a cruel firework.

  “Meat!” he roared. “Into the ground with you!”

  I rose up again, barely aware of Fujiko desperately trying to heal behind me. Altarus’ Winchester blared in the distance and found its bloody mark, but it was no use to me.

  Boucher’s fist, the size of a tree trunk, met my jaw with the force of a rocket heading for orbit, but instead of sending me off my feet like Altarus, I froze. A stun attack.

  -57

  No! I wanted to cry out, but it was futile. An icon of a tiny swirl flashed in the corner of my vision with a 2 beneath it. 2 seconds, but that was more than enough time for him to murder me.

  “Ah, poor little piggy!” the Gravekeeper chuckled as he rose up for another swing. “Down into the ground with you!”

  His axe hit me. Pain engulfed me and I watched as my health vanished—no, not quite vanished—I still had 2 points left.

  2 points!

  “Tough meat!” Boucher mused. “No one likes tough meat!”

  He swung out, almost lazily, with a blow that would have killed me had Fujiko not pulled something incredible out of her ass.

  “Hey, dickhead!” she shouted as her hammer crashed into the side of his face. But she hadn’t swung it—she’d thrown it! It sent Boucher’s head spinning and crashed to the ground. My stun wore off just as Shadowstep came off cooldown. All the Gravekeeper had to do was cough on me and I’d be dead, but as he whirled around to meet Fujiko as she dashed for her weapon, his fist ready to bludgeon her into oblivion, I knew I couldn’t just run and abandon her.

  Here goes nothing! I thought as Altarus’ bullet struck home.

  I thought it—and it happened. My axe handle struck the monstrosity before me in the gut and a sound sang out as my Blunted Strike went off, stunning him in the same way he’d stunned me.

  “Get your hammer!” I shouted.

  “I am!”

  I gulped a Soothing Syrup, knowing I only had 2 seconds to deal damage to the bastard, but if I didn’t full heal I’d be dead by his next hit. I swigged a second to restore my health, and as I did so, the stun wore off.

  “Ah, you have s—some skill!” he cried out as another bullet from Altarus’ Winchester found its mark. Judging by how tough he was, the Gravekeeper must have been some kind of mini-boss, not just a unique mob, and it showed—his health was still well above half.

  What the Hell are we gonna do?! I thought as I leapt back, finally dodging one of his attacks. In my peripheral vision, I saw Fujiko slide, more like chatter, across the ground and snatch up her hammer from where it had landed. As Boucher raised his Shovel Axe again, she raised her weapon too. As the hammer reached the peak of its arc, a sound of steel rang out and a spark of golden light sprang from its blunt face. She screamed like I’d imagine an Amazon warrior might scream as she
brought her weapon down, not on Boucher himself, but on the ground in front of him.

  The sound of the impact was almost deafening. A shockwave rippled out that tore cobblestones and headstones from the ground and sent them cascading toward him like a tidal wave. They struck him, pelting him with damage, and then the shockwave itself hit, and I was shocked to see him freeze again—stunned.

  “What was that?!” I shouted as I wasted no time leaping into action.

  “Shatter!” Fujiko roared with delight as we leapt onto our prey, now at his most vulnerable. I heard Altarus’ Precision Shot ring out. My blade found Boucher’s neck as his bullet exploded against the Gravekeeper’s chest. My Rally bar swelled.

  One more hit should do it!

  Fujiko’s hammer rang out like an enormous gong as it came down on his head. I slashed up, down, and up again—

  85, 89, 81

  And grinned as my Rally bar ignited. I aimed my next strike directly at his neck, which bulged with veins that stood so proud and thick they were almost inviting me to attack. The 20% boost practically made my mouth water as I rained down furiously upon him.

  102, 101

  “FILTHY MEAT!” Gravekeeper Boucher roared as Fujiko’s stun wore off. “YOU BELONG BENEATH THE GROUND!”

  His health was approaching 25%, or maybe had already gone past it, I wasn’t really able to focus on anything more than my swings. He spun and attacked, but I Shadowstepped through him and brought my axe down against the back of his neck, tearing the tattered fabric he’d fashioned into a cloak.

  MASSIVE!

  288

  “You’ve got him!” Altarus cried, firing again, chipping off even more of Boucher’s health. Fujiko hammered him in the cheek as he raised his axe, and I heard the sound of bone cracking. Blood splashed against the rock.

  Boucher’s body was twisted awkwardly, as though he couldn’t decide which one of us to attack. I saw my opportunity—and took it.

  My blade almost took his head off, but not quite. It fell to the side to rest precariously on the thick, sinuous trapezius muscles that stretched to his shoulder. His eyes went wide with shock as though he was unable to comprehend the fact that he had lost, and as the last bit of his health vanished and the strength fell from his monumental body, he whispered, “Meat…all we are is…”

  And with that, Gravekeeper Boucher died.

  “Yeah!” Fujiko cried, raising her hammer in celebration above her head.

  “Holy shit…” I muttered, taking a knee. I hadn’t realized just how intense and exciting the fight had been until it was over and I began to feel myself coming down. My heart rate was jacked and I barely noticed as an enormous tornado of Quintessence wrapped around us and a sound rang out signaling my level up.

  “Excellent!” Altarus announced as he walked up to us, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder as though he’d just returned from duck hunting. “What an opponent!”

  Smiling, I opened my character sheet and my jaw almost fell open when I saw how much Quintessence I’d gained from killing Boucher. I had been close to level 7 before the fight, but was now already at least 75% to level 8. Fujiko bent down to check the loot as I allocated my experience.

  Rand—Level 7

  Vitality: 15 HP = 378

  Toughness: 8

  Strength: 24

  Skill: 5

  Viletaint: 14

  Intellect: 5

  The diminishing returns were really starting to show themselves, as Strength was starting to cost a ton to raise. I put 2 points into it, and another 3 into Toughness, because why not spend a little bit on survivability? And then another into Vitality. Despite having started off as a Meat Sack, I was doing pretty damn well if you asked me.

  “Anybody else level up?” I asked, but when I turned, I saw both of them had. They were both now level 6.

  “That was excellent!” Altarus exclaimed. “And we only lost one of us!”

  “Jacob’s gonna be pissed,” I thought, wondering if any of our Quintessence gain had reached him all the way back in Weeping Hills. If not, he was going to have death penalty to work off again.

  “Hey, Rand?” Fujiko said behind me. I looked over and saw a gleam in her eye as she examined the loot dropped by Gravekeeper Boucher.

  “Yeah?” I asked with a smile, already knowing what she was about to say.

  “You want this guy’s axe?”

  “I dunno,” I chuckled. “Is it any good?”

  She stood up and held it out in front of her. The game had rightly scaled it down from the absolutely unwieldy monstrosity held by the enormous man, to something not quite so ridiculous, but still somewhat so, that would have been impossible to hold up in the real world, let alone swing.

  “You tell me.”

  She passed it to me and I smiled at the weight in my hand. It was crude, covered with bits of rust in places and stains of blood and guts in others. I heard the chirp as it entered my inventory and opened my character sheet to inspect it.

  Boucher’s Shovel Axe: Meat belongs beneath the ground. Use this to put it there!

  Physical Attack: 145

  Attribute Bonus:

  Strength: C

  Skill: E

  My mouth must have been hanging open, as Fujiko quickly asked me, “Well? I guess so?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I smiled, swinging the thing around to get the feel of it. The C scaling was better than the D of my Loathsome Axe, with another 35 base damage. I had no idea how the scaling actually worked, but C was better than D—I knew that much!

  It didn’t feel too different than my Loathsome Axe, but was a little more top heavy and had a longer handle, which would make two handed swings a lot easier and probably a lot stronger too.

  “Someone’s happy,” Fujiko said to Altarus with a grin.

  “Anything else?” I asked. She tossed me three Soothing Syrups.

  “Oh, wow!” she gasped.

  “What is it?”

  “Seven Old Bones!” she said with glee.

  “Those are all mine, right?” I smirked.

  “You got a badass axe!”

  “Should we return to town for Jacob?” Altarus asked like the wise old father of the group.

  “It’s a short, easy walk back,” I replied. “He’ll be fine. Let’s keep clearing the cemetery. I gotta try out this new axe!”

  32

  Show ‘Em What We’re Made Of!

  “What wonderful wisdom and will is required to rectify and remedy the ruined and ravaged corpse and restore it to its former glory. Anyone can hack a corpse to bits, but it takes a skilled hand and a keen eye to put one back together!”

  —Horticus Humphries

  Less than an hour later I was level 8.

  Rand—Level 8

  Vitality: 15 HP = 378

  Toughness: 10

  Strength: 24

  Skill: 5

  Viletaint: 14

  Intellect: 5

  Fujiko and Altarus had both hit level 7, and I could just feel how annoyed Jacob was going to be when he got back and saw all the progress we’d made.

  Another Corpse Eater died as the sharp edge of Boucher’s Shovel Axe came down with a full bar of Rally behind it.

  Massive!

  327

  The gruesome dog coughed and died and vanished into a pool of Quintessence.

  “You’re really liking that thing, huh?” Fujiko remarked as she lifted her hammer from the skulls of two Rotting Corpses she’d just taken out.

  “Ol’ Boucher knew what he was doing when he made this baby.” I smirked, wasting no time leaping back into battle while my Rally bar was still blooming. Blood painted the air as my sharp iron carved through their hanging flesh.

  93—105—97—92—108

  Shadowstep. Riposte. Massive.

  One died.

  Easy.

  108—98—92—105—109

  The corpse swung at me, narrowly missing me. Gripping my Shovel Axe with two hands, I stepped forward like a major leag
ue hitter and raked the blade across its stomach, spilling its guts onto a fallen cluster of headstones.

  Massive!

  345

  “And dead,” I announced as the thing’s health vanished. I knelt down and retrieved 2 vials of Soothing Syrup and 3 Mortal Shards from the ground. “We keep this up, and I’ll be level 10 in no time—”

  My voice was cut off as something struck me—no, not quite struck as much as pulled at me as though a powerful force was trying to suck my soul from my body.

  -25, -27, -31

  My health ticked away quickly as I spun, searching for the source of the damage.

  “Rand! Behind you!” Altarus shouted. Something flashed in the corner of my vision, and I spun and lashed out with my axe. A strange orb of purple and black swept slowly past me and my blade passed right through it with no effect.

  A spell!

  The Winchester cracked and I heard the impact of the bullet and spun to see two Seekers, players, advancing on us. By their position, they must have been hidden behind one of the fallen crypts, watching us, waiting for their moment to attack.

  -28, -32

  Whatever spell they’d cast seemed to move slowly through the air and suck health from whoever it came close to, wisps and strands of purple sprouting from the orb as it passed.

  I Shadowstepped to my left and took cover behind a large gravestone while I sipped a syrup to heal. I peered out to get a better look at our attackers. The one in the front wore high boots and a thick leather duster jacket. In his hands, a Bloodletter.

  Doom—Level 8

  Beside him was the caster, the one responsible for the orb that had chewed away at my health like a passing virus.

  Callahan—Level 7

  He rose up again for another cast, but he wasn’t holding a femur like Jacob used. In his hands instead was a disgusting looking gob of flesh spotted with black pustules and chunks of white fatty tissue.

  “PKs!” Fujiko shouted. I drew my Blunderbuss and pressed my back against the gravestone, watching as the cooldown on Shadowstep ticked down. Just 3 more seconds. Altarus’ Winchester snapped again but the sound of shattering stone was its only reply—he’d missed. Shadowstep came off cooldown, and I clenched my hand so tightly around the handle of my axe that my knuckles went white.