by Jez Cajiao
I changed quickly, now twisting the right lever forward and the left back, instead of both in the same direction, and nearly gave myself whiplash as it took off.
I frantically twisted and pulled, yanking and pressing in every way I could think off, bouncing off the walls as I went. Luckily, a few seconds in, and I had a rough idea of what to do, and I cut ‘Mana-Overdrive’ before I bottomed myself out.
The levers controlled the front and back wheels independently; right, forward and left, back. The wheels went forward, while the opposite was reverse, with steering managed by pushing the levers in towards the center of the bike or pulling away from it.
It was totally insane and weird to control, but as the wind tore tears from my eyes, I couldn’t tear the grin from my face. I passed buildings in a blur, gnomes diving aside, and I frantically skidded down one street and up another, spiked wheels and blades that covered the outside gleaming in the dim light of the cavern.
The world itself was blur, and I could barely keep up with the machine; only my enhanced Agility and Intelligence gave me the edge I needed to keep it upright and not wrap it around something, but I knew I’d not last long.
I took a corner I thought would lead to the building‒the mansion, really‒on the far side of the cavern, and instead found the tracks that the siege weapon used right in my path. I twisted the levers, rolling right, and then swore, as I saw the tower that the Badunka Riders were housed in up ahead. As I got closer, I saw two more of the Leviathans on either side of the gate at the bottom of the Tower, and another humanoid figure in a black robe higher up the Tower. I had barely enough time to recognize it before I was haring down another street, but I heard the scream of rage, and the loud boom of metal slamming down, and I knew by the feeling of my balls trying to reach my ears internally that neither that sound, nor the lack of a proper saddle on this damn thing, was good for me.
I took another cross street, barely skidding across to clear the building on the corner. A short thug of a gnome with a Mohawk screamed in fear, diving through a window as I nearly ran him down, and I looked back over my shoulder as I heard the sound of revving engines.
I passed between two ‘houses’ and saw the tower again, as well as the half-pipe tube that had been dropped from it, letting the Badunkas race free in pursuit of me.
Rising even over the squeals and hisses of the Badunka I rode were the sounds of dozens more engines. They were powering up, and they were getting closer.
I turned at the next crossroads, taking a right, then a left, then almost destroyed my vehicle as I came to a dead end, filled with rotting refuse and huge, dimly glowing mushrooms. Desperately spinning around, I tried the right, gritting my teeth as I bounced across a corpse in the road, while the metal bands of the seat attempted to make me into a eunuch.
I took the next corner, heading away from the tower and trying to swing around to head for the mansion, as the first of them came into sight.
They were all shapes and sizes, from things that looked like horses with three wheels, to others that balanced precariously on one. Some had seats, while others barely clung on, as though about to fall to their deaths.
They all bore screaming gnomes, though, and lots of them carried passengers that cast various spells through wands that sparked and bucked, and thank the gods, occasionally exploded.
I saw the explosion within the pack and saw three of the dozens of Badunkas wiped out. I grinned, turning the levers even further and feeling the engine starting to shake, as even more steam erupted out and hissing started up.
I knew the Badunka wouldn’t last long; it was too damaged, too badly built, and too… cack-handed, basically. The entire thing looking like it was someone’s first draft, made out of scrap for someone they really hated, to send them to their doom.
“You okay?” I threw out to Oracle.
“Yeah, is that…what are you doing?!?” she asked abruptly, horror and jealousy clear in her voice, and I remembered how much she’d loved riding the Airships.
“Told you I’d get their attention!” I said, grinning maniacally to myself. Gonna need some destruction dealing soon, and some fucking healing!”
“I’ll be ready,” She said simply, and I nodded to myself, hunching down and leaning over. My left knee clinked against bits of metal as I used it to corner, before straightening up.
I saw that the red-robed figure had stopped casting spells, clearly either out of mana or happy to leave them to be mobbed by the gnomes, now that the siege tower was so close.
I twisted the throttles and took another corner, then grinned as I shot out of the rabbit warren of streets, bursting into what I assumed was farmland. I was suddenly surrounded by enormous mushrooms and glittering pools of clearly contaminated water that glowed with a dim silvery light. Just then, I saw two things ahead of me.
First was the mansion; there were switchbacks that led up to it on the far side of the cavern, but the way was clear now, even as the pack of gnomes I’d been hunting hurried through the gates and vanished inside. They had my naginata; I’d seen it gleaming as they vanished, and that was a relief, even if it was in there.
The second thing was that the siege weapon was even more rickety than I’d thought it was at first glance, and I’d found the track to it again. I checked my mana and released the right lever, holding on grimly to the left as my fingers twisted and the arcane syllables fell from my lips, torn away by the wind of my passage.
I swerved almost at random, occasional spells hurtling past, and screamed invectives as they tried to close the distance.
One of the Badunkas pulled up alongside, and the rider swung a mace at me, the head gleaming white with power, I ducked, feeling it pass by mere inches as I rammed my spell into his face.
The goggles covering his eyes and his mad grin vanished into the Fireball, as did his head, leaving a sickly-sweet, pungent odor of cooked meat to float on the breeze as he reached for his face, then crashed.
He flipped end over end, disappearing in a fireball, with the wreckage taking out two more Badunkas.
I frantically thrust the Fireball back, aware that containment had been broken on the spell and wanting it far, far away from me when it went off.
I felt the spell leave me, the draw of mana cutting off, even as I drew hard on my mana again and started building another Fireball, trying again when the first detonated.
It flew behind me a dozen feet or so, the spellform shaking and twisting as it broke apart. Then it exploded, the wavefront pouring outward, tearing up the mushroom fields and flinging shards in every direction.
I swore, frantically clinging onto the Badunka, and barely managed it, even as the following Badunka Riders ploughed straight into a maelstrom of fiery destruction.
I finished my incantation and hurled the spell away from me at my target, grabbed the levers, and twisted them aside, flinging the Badunka onto a new trajectory and hurtling towards the switchback.
I tore left and right, weaving through the fields and grinning maniacally to myself as I heard the explosion behind me, followed by a loud, reverberating scream of rage as the siege weapon tilted ominously.
My aim had been true, and the Fireball had taken out one wheel of the thing, the front right. Its own motion and weight had done the rest once the spell detonated, setting fire to the wheel and shattering it. As the wheel crumbled, it twisted the tower, then, instead of following the carved, circular path on the rails, the edge of the tower crunched into the ground on that side.
It dug in, making it tilt, and the three wheels that were left creaked and groaned, before the back right gave way as well.
When that wheel went, the entire structure dipped; then the weight of the Badunkas played their part. The gnomes were bouncing and hollering, screeching with bloodlust and fighting amongst themselves, looking for all the world like drugged-up baboons desperate to kill and maim, and their movement was the feather that finished the structure off.
It tilted further, grinding t
o a halt, then more beams and cross-members snapped, and the entire thing twisted and fell, smashing into the nearest wall, detonating as first one, then another of the Badunkas, went up in flames.
I heard the furious and terrified screams coming from the tower, and from the Badunkas Riders that had survived, but I didn’t care, as I took the last left and right, racing up the final stretch towards the mansion doors, then gunned the engine all the way to the end, forcing the wheels to top speed… before straightening up, letting go of the controls, and digging my boots into the ground. I rolled backwards off the Badunka, tucking myself into as tight a ball as I could, as the Badunka rocketed into the doors and detonated.
I bounced and rolled across the floor for a good dozen feet before slamming into a wall and nearly knocking myself out.
It easily took dozens of minutes before I could make enough sense of the world to know I’d fucked up. Literally. Everything was ringing, spinning, and all I wanted to do was throw up. I laid there, occasionally trying to get up but just making the world spin more, until hands grabbed me roughly and dragged me aside, pulling me into cover, and a voice I knew I recognized told me to be still and silent. The sounds of creatures moving nearby rose and fell.
Time passed, as someone forced a healing potion into my mouth, and I heard cursing as something seemed wrong with my head.
I blinked blearily as someone pulled off my helm, tearing my skin; then it was like I’d been plunged into an ice bath. I stiffened and my eyes were forced open wide with a gasp of pain.
The world came back into focus, and I blinked at all the blood on the wall and on Bane’s hands as he held my damaged helmet in one hand, helping to hold me upright with the rest.
I shook myself, looking about frantically, and saw the rest of the team were there, and that Oracle, sweet Oracle, was kneeling by my side, exhausted, as she struggled to get my last mana potion out of my bag and lift it to my lips.
I drank it, still in shock, then shuddered as she hit me again, healing me all the way to full.
I sagged back and Bane lowered me against the wall, then handed me my helm. I stared at it and let out a low whistle as I took in the cracks and the dented-in section; no wonder it’d hurt coming off.
I looked up, finding my entire team there. The gnome, Gint, was there too, seemingly ignoring me. I frowned at him, and Oracle spoke up quickly.
“Jax, it’s okay. He helped us,” she said reassuringly before continuing through our mental link.
“He turned up halfway through the fight; he has a nasty-looking crossbow in a bag, and he helped to take down the other gnomes, but he’s not happy about it. He can talk now, more or less, but he’s seriously pissed. Oh, and he swore the Oath,” she added as an afterthought.
“Okay… thank you, Gint, for helping us…” I said, and he grunted and hunched his shoulders.
“It’s Giint, actually, Jax,” Oracle corrected me gently, reaching out and brushing my hair back, then kissing my cheek.
“Are you okay?” she asked privately again.
“I am…” I said to her in the same way; then I saw the look she gave me. “Honestly, I am. I just had my bell rung a bit; what happened?”
“When you crashed into the side of the building, you took out a section of the supports, and the red-robed mage fell out of sight when some of the roof caved in. It’s somewhere inside, and the one in the black robes came up here as fast as it could. Bane managed to make it to you first and get you to cover, thankfully,” she said aloud again, and I nodded gratefully to her before reaching up and bracing myself against the wall, then climbing to my feet.
“Sorry, Giint,” I apologized to the gnome, who glared at me, then huffed and went back to staring at his hands. “What’s going on here?” I asked, and he looked up at me. For the first time since we’d healed him, I got a good look at his face.
The seemingly ingrained snarl and general hatred of the world around him was gone, instead replaced with a bone deep self-loathing that seemed to shriek up at me from his gaze.
“What’s… wronnng?” he croaked, his voice sounding old and hard-used. “What coulddd be wronnng? I…wake… from a nightmaaare to find it’sss my liiiife. I kiiilled my wife. My childrrren. I ate…” He broke off, looking away and clearly trying to fight back tears and disgust. He started to shake, and more tears flooded his cheeks, carving tracks in the filth that coated his skin.
He was dressed in a mixture of clothes, clearly scavenged from other dead gnomes. He wore thick leather pants with reinforced knees and multiple pockets, a tunic that, while grubby, was still an off-olive green color and was similarly reinforced, along with four sets of tool belts looped around his waist, one over each shoulder to the opposite hip in a bandolier style, and one cinched to his right leg in a spiral that wound around it.
The outfit itself was obviously strong and made to last, which was the only reason he was decent still, considering that it was torn, shredded, burned, and filthy with every possible combination of stains that I could see, not to mention it reeked. I knew that was, at least in part, the body, or bodies, that had worn the clothes recently.
“What happened here?” I asked him, glancing up at the building above us, and back at the mushroom fields, seeing the trail of corpses, flaming wrecks, and destruction that both I and my team had left to get here. I could see movement in the distance, but it seemed we’d actually managed to break through even the fanatic insanity of the gnomes by now.
“The ‘Maassster’ happened,” he said flatly. “He… itttt… came. Itttt fed on usss, made ussss ssslavessss… then ittt took the waterrr… all we haaaad leffft wass the metalll and morrre drinkiiiing metal, morrrre madnesss.” He refused to look at me now, twisting his fingers together over and over and shuddering as the sobs tore through him.
“What’s the ‘Master’?” I asked him, and he just shook his head, refusing to say more.
“He doesn’t know,” Oracle said softly. “We questioned him on the way over as well; all he knows is that he or it has powerful magic, and it makes them do whatever it wants. He vaguely remembers before it came, when the gnomes lived here; they literally lived here for over a century, in relative peace, the specters seemingly content to not kill them if they didn’t enter the other portions of the city. They’re from a scout vessel that found the Sunken City. They tried exploring it, and a party got cut off, trapped down here. The rest of the crew came to rescue them and got trapped as well. The spirits were still about, then; the revenants of the crew and the Imperial Forces, as well as the undead. The gnomes basically reinforced the area and settled in to try to build up enough weapons to fight their way free. Whatever the ‘Master’ is, it came about fifty years ago, and it took over, fed on them, both magically and occasionally physically, apparently. He calls it ‘the master’ or ‘the Skin-Walker,’ depending, and I don’t think even he knows what he means. Evidently, it took what it wanted and killed anything that tried to stand up to it. Then it took the water, and whatever cleaned the saltwater to make it potable. The Gnomes only had whatever rainwater made its way down here through the various holes, and it was contaminated with all sorts of poisons. They tried to clean it, but the SkinWalker stopped them, killing any that tried. Over time, the gnomes, well, went feral. They stopped trying to fix things and started attacking each other. The buildup of poisons twisted them, and the Skin-Walker and its Leviathans preyed on them all. The gnomes stopped caring as long as it wasn’t them, and they followed their instincts in making new and wonderful things, but they were all geared towards war, and... well, they used the fastest and lowest effort methods, so everything breaks regularly, and they steal everything from each other, so they ended up like… this,” she finished, waving her arm generally around the cavern.
“So, there’s a couple of fuckers left inside; then what?” I asked the team, and Bane was the first to speak up.
“There isn’t a way out from here, apparently,” he explained. “But there are passages that lead deep
er into the territory that is claimed by the undead. They were filled with the revenants as well, but you already freed them, so?” He waggled a dagger in suggestion.
“So we kill the SkinWalker, and its Leviathans; then we go kill the undead, and hopefully find a way out,” I clarified, repeating the information back. “If there are any books or good magical shit left in the gnomes’ territory, I’m betting it’s in there, along with my naginata,” I said, nodding to the building and trying not to wince as a section of the roof fell in slowly with a loud crash.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked, getting nods and gestures, mostly rude, but given in good faith. At some point, I was going to have to explain the gestures I’d taught them, but for now, it was too funny. I checked my mana and found that it was just over half, thanks to the last mana potion that Oracle had forced down my throat, and now I was out of potions entirely.
I paused, wondering if I should meditate and try to recover more, until the choice was taken from me by a howl further down the switchback, as the pair of larger Leviathans came into sight, one with a twitching arm dangling from its beak. It threw its head back and gobbled the limb down, hissing in pleasure. Then it hunched down and pointed its beak at our group, who quickly ducked out of sight.
There was a brief burst of the sonic attack, but it mostly missed us, serving only to make everyone angry.
“Fuck this shit,” I snarled. “Let’s get inside, and then we can kill those fuckers when they come looking.” I said, deciding that possibly fighting on both sides would be better than getting blasted with the sonics out in the open.
I drew my remaining sword from my back, and we hurried through the front of the building, barely taking the time to note the way the metal was more corroded than anywhere else I’d been, yet still solid, somehow, as though it didn’t get much in the way of disturbances, yet was rotting from within.
The building itself was fairly large, almost huge, in comparison to the buildings I’d seen in Himnel, easily thirty meters across to a side, and built into a hexagonal shape, as near as I could tell by the collapsed sections. It had probably been beautiful once, stunning, even, with large sections of what looked like glass in the remains of windows, and heavy crenellations on the walls. The front had previously been surrounded by gardens of some kind, but now there were only the rotting remnants of bodies and encroaching mushrooms and other fungus. Here and there, the glowing lichen that seemingly provided most of the light in the cavern would colonize a wall or section of ground, producing an uneven, almost diseased glow to the place.