Kreeptic pressed his pale lips into a thin line, frowned, and bowed his head in thought. Then, all at once, he snapped up his cruel looking knife, the horrible red substance he’d been pouring on the rat, a dozen vials of poison in varying hues of green. With a swirl of his cloak he vanished, then his voice rang out behind me.
“Lead the way, Zoran. I shall fight with you.”
32
Kreeptic and I made our way to the eighth floor with all haste. Azrael would be one floor up inside the Hall of the Makers and it seemed he’d pulled the majority of his men back there as a final line of defense for we’d encountered no resistance. So far.
As we approached the holding area of the Emperor, Kreeptic indicated we should pause.
“Allow me to scout ahead.” The torturer vanished in another swirl of his cloak, presumably into some powerful form of stealth.
Waiting for him to return, I took stock of the items I still had that would be useful in the coming battles.
Blood of the Old Ones
Greater Mana Swirl Potion x 4
Gnomish Land Mine x 9
Journeyman Grenade x 9
Steel Caltrop x 18
Frost Rune x 7
Fire Rune x 9
Air Rune x 9
Earth Rune x 9
Vial of Arch-Solution x 16
Disorientating Venom x 2
It was as good an arsenal as I was going to obtain in my position. I resupplied my makeshift utility belt with grenades, caltrops and slime, glad to be able to keep the runes safe inside my inventory. Next, I tightened the silk wire holding my ‘bayonet’ in place on the crossbow. I fully expected it to fall off in the fighting but if I did need to use it, then I would probably be in deep shit to begin with. That disorientating venom I’d scavenged from the rogue Biterzogg may come in useful, but like the Blood of the Old Ones, the trick would be in applying it.
My mind turned to how many players I’d probably be facing. Without Ellie’s help, I couldn’t know for sure whether Azrael had redeployed his remaining eighteen men so I had to make my best guess. I assumed three were still outside the armory, blocking my entry and unaware of my movements. They might be recalled when the fighting started but, hopefully, they’d arrive too late to help. There’d been a dozen players out on the walls and I’d taken out four, leaving just eight there. Azrael might have reinforced them but I couldn’t know this for sure. It was doubtful he would remove them in case some crazy players attempted another assault, so I felt those eight were still out there and too far away to have any impact on the fight to come.
That left nine players up here, excluding Azrael himself. Ten in all; a fair number and there would be nothing to distract them.
Suddenly, smoke billowed before me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. Kreeptic had reappeared.
“As suspected there are adventurers guarding the door,” he reported.
“How many?”
“Two. A warlock with an infernal minion, and a shaman with wind enchanted axes.”
I scratched my chin. “This disappearing, teleporting act of yours; I take it you can’t just blip through the walls and speak to Reginald yourself?”
He growled lowly. “I cannot Shadowstep through solid walls, you peabrained—”
I threw up a hand. “Yeh, it would be pretty OP if you could.” I sighed. “Alright. A warlock and shaman. Can you take them?”
“I should be able to,” Kreeptic said, flashing a disturbing smile. “Although the shaman has a totem of warding, which means he’ll be alerted to anyone trying to sneak up on them.”
“I’ll draw their attention towards us, away from the totem. Then you can strike.”
“Very well,” Kreeptic said. “One last thing. It appears Azrael has locked the Emperor away in his own solar. These are his private chambers for sleeping and study, and only Aurelius himself holds the key. Azrael must have taken it by force.”
I flashed a smile of my own, taking out Aurelius’ Key from my bags.
“You mean, this key?”
Kreeptic gave a slow, thankfully silent clap. “A scavenger and a master pickpocket. You’ll be a most useful agent for me after my promotion.”
“Uh huh,” I said, trying to formulate a quick plan together for dealing with the shaman and warlock. This hallway wasn’t well suited to ambushes from above; the ceiling was low and there weren’t as many adornments in this more private area of the Spire. I could try and lure them around the corner to run onto landmines, slime and caltrops, but that could be risky. There was every chance they’d just call for backup or not follow me. All I really had to do was remove the totem of warding or ensure they wouldn’t notice Kreeptic coming some other wa—
Ah, but that was just it, assuming it worked.
“Kreeptic, do poisons work just as well if inhaled?”
He raised an eyebrow. “It is unorthodox but most substances need only enter the victim’s system; the method is rarely an issue.”
Having decided my course of action, I stepped forward, pulling out a vial of the disorientating venom and shoved it down my launcher. There was still some space in the chamber so I placed the second vial of venom in there too for good measure.
“Let’s go. Attack from stealth on my signal.”
I steadied my breath, then rounded the corner, leveling my crossbow down the corridor. The warlock was level 43, the shaman 46. Azrael had kept his most powerful players close. I just hoped Kreeptic could take them alone. Time to find out.
“Cooey! What’s up nubs?”
I fired a bolt to make sure that I got their attention. The shaft zipped towards the warlock but his infernal lumbered to block it and the arrowhead glanced off its flaming stone form. It roared at me, like a cross between a crocodile and a lion, and smashed its fist into the floor. Paintings fell from the walls and the carpet singed at the impact. Twirling his axes, the dwarf shaman took a step forward, while the warlock began channeling a bolt of pure darkness. Behind them was the warding totem but, hopefully, it wouldn’t matter.
Switching to my launcher aim, I picked a spot right at the feet of the players and fired. Just like the vials of slime out on the walls, the two smaller vials of venom hurtled forth. Facing my left palm forward, I summoned an air rune and sunk 500 mana into a single Gale Blast, taking a stab at how much power I’d need to pull off the desired effect before releasing it down the hallway. Vials smashed, poison splashed and the runic air vaporized the lot.
A mini mushroom cloud of green gas whooshed upwards into the players’ faces. Moments later, the shaman stumbled through the cloud, spluttering and clawing at his eyes. Green droplet symbols appeared above their heads indicating a debuff.
Disorientating Venom
Vision and movement obscured.
Duration: 4 seconds
“Now, Kreeptic,” I called, but the torturer was well ahead of me. A gleaming dagger lunged from nowhere, sinking into the warlock’s back. The infernal minion roared its displeasure, swinging a backhanded blow which Kreeptic narrowly dodged.
I started forward, wondering if Kreeptic would need any help, but seeing him weave round the infernal so that it struck its own master, I felt he had this well under control.
With the attention of the players diverted, I held my breath to run through the lingering poison cloud. A hint of its bitterness tickled my nose and I felt momentarily sorry for the players but avoided its effect myself.
With Aurelius’ key, I unlocked the door, entered and pulled it shut behind me.
My immediate greeting was five extremely heavily armed and armored NPCs, their weapons raised and hands aglow with priming spells. Backpaddling to the far wall was the man I’d seen in the introductory cutscene for the human race, seen from afar in the throne room and up close once via Azrael’s stream. Emperor Aurelius himself, although there was something strange about the info hovering over his head.
Emperor Aurelius – ??? – Level 50 Boss
Where his class ought to be, th
ere were only question marks. Did this mean he didn’t have one? Could he really not fight at all? That would explain, at least, why he fell over so easily during the first assault on the Spire.
His bodyguards closed in.
“Do you bring new terms?” one of them barked. Facing the source, I instantly recognized that unique armor, the white gold inlays, the cowl and robes made of flexible plate mail. His details confirmed this.
Grand Crusader Reginald – Paladin – level 50 Elite
Reginald was an imposing figure up close. He must have been six-foot-five, even broader than you might expect with a moustache so mighty it would have made an acceptable loot drop on its own.
“Well?” he demanded. “Speak quickly or we’ll send you back to your master in pieces.”
“Reginald, really, he’s but a child.” This meeker voice belonged to the Emperor, somewhat obscured by the various bulky guards trying to shield him with their own bodies.
“My Lord, if he serves the undead then he has willingly become an enemy of all life.”
“I don’t work for Azrael,” I said. “I’m here to rescue you and I need your help.”
Reginald strode forward to get a better look at me. Scowling, he grabbed my tabard and inspected it closely as a gemsmith might inspect a diamond.
“It’s the Rusking colors, Lord… though he might have stolen them.”
“Heavily armed too,” said another. “Grenades, some poisons maybe.”
“How would you expect to fight Azrael’s men off without being armed?” I said. “It’s not like they just let me waltz in here.” I shrugged Reginald off. “Interrogator Kreeptic is outside handling some of your enemies. You can go help him if you like.”
I opened the door to see the poor torturer being flung bodily against the wall by the infernal, the shaman whirling in for a twin axe strike. Perhaps he didn’t have it handled after all.
The crystalline metallic edges of the axes met a barrier of pulsing light, arresting the shaman’s swing just inches from Kreeptic’s face.
“Minions of filth!” Reginald spat, his hands white-hot from a spell cast. “To arms, men. To arms.” He raised his obscenely large warhammer and pounded into the corridor, two of the guards following.
The remaining Imperial Guard fell in tight beside their emperor, a priest and another paladin.
“No sudden moves, scavenger.”
I threw up my hands to show I meant no harm, and two runes tried to activate at once.
Frost Bolt or Cone of Cold?
Gale Blast or Whirlwind?
Thankfully, neither of the runes would go off without placing mana into them but it struck me as a new and exciting possibility: could I now activate two runes at the same time? I closed both my fists and the options for fire and earth runes appeared. I tried one fist closed and one palm forward and the relevant options appeared. Letting loose a triumphant laugh seemed to set the guards on edge and they began to advance.
“Stop, stop,” Aurelius said, as more of a plea than an order. “This boy has come to set us free.”
“Sir, how would he have got your key if not from Azrael?”
“Kreeptic pickpocketed it from him,” I said hastily. The guards narrowed their eyes but seemed quelled. Hopefully, the NPCs wouldn’t bother checking in with each other but they were being annoyingly inquisitive. Ellie sure was powerful. All the more reason I couldn’t let a nutter like Azrael have her.
Conscious of my time, I pressed on. “Uhm, your Majesty? Lord? I believe I have found a way to kill Azrael but I shall need the assistance of the Grand Crusader.”
“Hmmm,” Aurelius mused. Rather than jump for joy at the news of salvation, he appeared to shrink into himself. “A deal was struck with our captors…”
Before I could puzzle this out, two screams bellowed from the corridor followed by deafening, hammering bangs.
GiefWindProcs – Shaman – level 46 dies – 275 EXP
TragicSoul – Warlock – level 43 dies – 260 EXP
I mentally ticked down to sixteen players left.
Though pleased by their passing, it was almost certain they’d alerted Azrael to the attack. At best, he was now aware of my presence near the ninth floor and at worst, direct retaliation would soon follow.
Emperor Aurelius was still looking at me strangely, but it was only Reginald that I actually needed. I turned to find the Grand Crusader already returning heavily into the solar, dashes of blood smeared across his pristine armor.
He looked upon me with what I think amounted to respect. “You’ve done the Imperium a great service this day, Zoran.”
“I can do you one better,” I said, bringing out the Blood of the Old Ones. “If you would transmute this poison into a holy substance, we might bring down Azrael himself.”
Reginald eyed Kreeptic next. The torturer was panting, clutching at his side and had suffered a cut on his brow, but his health was already regenerating.
“The boy acquired the ingredients,” Kreeptic said breathily. “Don’t ask me how, he’s simply… talented.”
“That poison is forbidden,” Reginald said gravely.
I gritted my teeth; surely, this wasn’t going to go south at the eleventh hour?
“Yet these are dark times,” Reginald continued. “I will transmute this poison for the sole purpose of killing our enemy, but by the light, I hope never to see this again.” He gave Kreeptic a stern look; the torturer smiled nervously.
I thought about chancing my luck a little more.
“You could all come with me? I’ll have a better chance of hitting Azrael with it if I have you all as backup.”
“It would be my greatest desire to rid the world of this evil,” Reginald said. “However, I’m afraid my Emperor’s safety is my priority. We ought to take him from the Spire, then return to deal with this menace.”
“But I don’t have time for that,” I said. “What if Azrael flees once he finds out you’re all gone? Right now, we have him cornered atop the Spire.”
“Zoran, I admire your courage, but you should watch your tongue. Rarely do I admit your kind into my presence, never mind speaking freely as you are. To join you in battle and leave my Emperor unguarded risks his life; should he die, the entire Imperium would fall into war and chaos.”
I rounded on Aurelius. “Can’t you speak for yourself? Just order them to come and help me and we can end this thing!”
I’d forgotten all sense of roleplay as I strode towards the Emperor – lowly position be damned. A huge, powerful hand grabbed me by the shoulder, inflicting 100 points of damage all on its own. I gasped, driven to my knees.
“Attempt that again,” Reginald growled, “and it shall be my hammer you feel.”
“Enough,” Aurelius said firmly. There was authority entering his voice now. “I find myself in awe of this one’s bravery.”
“My Lord, we must leave. Now. I beg you take caution.”
“Caution would perhaps be prudent,” Aurelius said. “Yet, what was it you were saying to me only yesterday, Reginald? That caution and words may no longer suffice.”
“Matters of court politics are one thing, but this is true danger.”
“The whole Imperium is in danger,” Aurelius said. “On all points of the compass, enemies gather and from within we bicker. Today marks the fruit of this rot. How did such a mighty servant of the Dark Council enter our city and convince so many citizens of our lands to join him? We are either lax or our foes at home have harbored and supplied him, hoping to remove me in a manner that looks legitimate and avoid a civil war.”
Each NPC was enraptured by the oratory. I, on the other hand, was growing anxious as time was marching on. It was doubtful whether any explanations about how an Orb of Deception worked or why Aurelius had it all wrong would help, but at least he seemed to be heading in a favorable direction at any rate.
Suddenly, he got down on one knee to my own level. “This citizen did not run today. Nor should I.”
“My Lo
rd, this would be unwise,” Reginald said, though his tone gave him away. He very clearly thought this to be a wonderful turn of events.
“For too long I have ignored the hard truth,” Aurelius said softly, more to himself than the room. He looked longingly at a bookshelf, a mixture of sadness and resolve carving out a new man before my very eyes. “I have stressed our troubles should be faced with reason. But either our world is not yet ready, or I am not. How can I expect to bring the change I seek when I cannot command respect within my own house?”
He rose to his feet. “Reginald, fetch me my father’s sword and armor.”
“Yes, Lord!”
The crusader’s enthusiasm for this rang through my shoulder where his eager grip dealt me another 50 points of damage before he and another guard strode off to a side chamber.
Despite myself, I couldn’t help but be caught up in the moment. Something cool was happening and I doubted any other player had experienced the Emperor like this.
He looked very intently at me. “Your courage today has inspired me beyond words, you even managed to get that old cretin Kreeptic out of his lair. As you seem intent on pursuing Azrael to justice, we shall stand firmly by your side. I shall stand by your side.”
Reginald and the guard returned, carrying a bejeweled scabbard and a set of beautiful golden plate mail. I worried that the equipment process would mimic how long such things would take in the real world, but thankfully the gaming side of Hundred Kingdoms had mercy on me. Aurelius took the items and equipped them with the speed of any player.
Now he stood resplendent, with mighty pauldrons shaped like stag heads, and a golden helm with protruding antlers. He drew his sword, a ruby crusted hilt glimmering under a broad blade of the finest steel. I wondered whether he’d even be able to swing it effectively given his lore but there appeared to be a stark change in the man, reflected even in the details floating above his head.
Battle Spire Page 33