“Look out!” Trinity suddenly shouted. Her sword suddenly sang out of its sheath and deflected a spear that was sailing toward my face. I instinctively ducked as the spear was slashed in two, and a moment later a dozen more spears screamed out of the trees and went straight through me.
“That must be our barbarian friends,” I said breathlessly as I looked down at my uninjured body.
“Gorran!” Hagar bellowed. “Come out o’ them trees and drink a beer like a civilized gods damned person! Ye can’t hurt him here, and he can’t be hurtin’ ye here. Understand?”
We all watched as one big barbarian head popped up above the foliage, then about three dozen more followed suit. The barbarians grumbled amongst themselves, then we waited for many annoying minutes as the barbarians realized the power of the glade and then tested that power with their weapons. After a few minutes they finally joined us, and the tallest among them slammed his fists down on the table.
The barbarian chieftain seemed to really be into bone jewelry, because he was covered in it. He had piercings everywhere, and his body was a canvas full of tribal tattoos. His face was hard and weathered like old leather. He must have been in his late thirties and judging by the younger looking men who followed him, I assumed that his rule was a precarious thing.
Soon, someone else would take his place.
Perhaps it would be one of his sons. There were four or five men in the group that looked like they might be his sons or nephews, maybe brothers. But I didn’t know how these things worked in barbarian culture, though I had a feeling that I was going to find out.
“Your magic is tricky, Samson of Haven,” he said to me.
“You know my name?” I said, and Cecilia cleared her throat. I glanced at her, and her eyes said ‘Dude, you shouldn’t act surprised that people know who you are, you be the mutha fuckin’ king!’
“I mean, of course you do,” I said. “Thank you for coming, Gorran.”
“I came to kill you,” he said, drinking of the ale.
I hadn’t thought any of them would have the balls to drink with me, but I was gladly mistaken.
“Why?” I asked.
He stopped mid-guzzle and beer flowed down his chin as though his puzzled face were a waterfall. “What you mean, why?” he asked.
“What did we do to you?” I pressed.
He blew the snot out of each of his nostrils, then looked at me with disdain. “You are the father of demons, the breeder of darkness. You are a scourge upon our land, and we will not rest until you have been destroyed.”
I couldn’t really argue about being the father of demons, but I could defend my character.
“It is true that I was tricked by the demon Megulla to give her many powerful children,” I said. “But I am not a demon lord.”
“You summoned your children to fight against us at the Battle of Haven.” He pointed at Nanaya, Cecilia, and Kit. “You fornicate with demons and animals. We will not tolerate your devilry here in our sacred land.”
“I summoned my children to aid me in the Battle for Haven. I had no other choice. You attacked us, don’t forget. You started this. And for the record, I only summoned five of my sons. I could have summoned an army of thousands, but I did not.”
“He even admits to having hell born children.” Gorran scoffed and looked to Lyra and Hagar.
“Aye, aye,” said Hagar. “We be knowin’ all that. But we be here to hear him out.”
“Let Samson speak,” said the elf queen.
Gorran scowled at the two leaders and glanced at me hungrily. Then he sat and drank from his mug.
“You listen, I wait here for the end of the meeting, then I will kill him,” he said stoically.
“I have asked you here so that I might offer a grave warning,” I began slowly. “The men that you had aligned with, Gorran, are not good men. You know them as the leaders of the Orc Chieftains, The Dragons of Fury, and the Doom Lords. They have most likely made promises to you and your tribesmen, but have they told you of the coming storm?”
“You speak in riddles, demon lover,” Gorran spat. “Speak plainly.”
“These guilds are only the first,” I told him. “Soon thousands of powerful people will come here like we have. They will each seek to carve out their own chunk of Ozara, and they will forever be a scourge on you and your people. If we do not stand united against this threat, then all our kingdoms will be lost.”
“The elves of the Great Wood have a word for the end that you speak of,” said Velaria as she glanced at her queen.
Lyra nodded. “It is called the Great Death, as prophesized by my ancestor, King Vereneus.”
“It shall come to pass that the land known as Ozara shall be visited by a new people,” Velaria recited slowly. “Chaos shall ensue, and like a scourge these invaders will sweep across the land. The Great Wood shall burn, and our people will be lost.”
“Let me guess,” said Trinity. “There is one spoken of who will stop the Great Death.”
Velaria glanced at Trinity and nodded, then looked to me.
“He shall come on wings of white and walk with many wives,” said the young elf.
“Blasphemy!” Malleus spat and leapt to his feet. “How dare you infer that this imposter is the Great Savior?”
“Let him finish!” Lyra suddenly yelled, and Malleus bowed his head respectfully, though his chest heaved, and his nostrils flared as he tried to contain his anger.
“Join me,” I said to them all. “And this grave prediction will not come to pass. Together we can turn back the invaders, solidify our position, and forever live in peace.”
“There is no peace, only war,” said Gorran dismissively. “Barbarians fight so that we will be strong and able when the Harbinger rises. We will—”
“Did you say the Harbinger?” I asked.
Gorran nodded gravely. “He is a being of immense power who will bring about the end of all things. He is—”
“He’s dead,” I said.
The barbarians all stirred, sharing surprised glances and murmuring softly.
“I grow tired of your lies,” said Gorran.
“It is the truth,” said Lyra. “I sent him on the quest to defeat the Harbinger, thinking that surely, he and his friends would be devoured. But alas, they were victorious, and brought to me the Everstone, which has sat in the Harbingers stomach for centuries. This is how I know that it is true, for there is no other way to get the stone.”
Gorran was absolutely dumbstruck.
“The harbinger is dead?” One of the barbarians asked.
The queen nodded.
“How can this be?” Gorran seemed to ask himself. He looked at his hands, the instruments of death calloused like leather from years of swordplay and a life of hardship. I saw in him a man defeated, a man without purpose. His eyes watered and his fists shook, then he looked to his people. “All my life I have trained, I have fought, and I have killed. But now, now….what is the point?”
“Your strength will still be needed,” I told him. “Don’t you see? Now that the shadow of the Harbinger no longer hangs over your people, you will have a chance to thrive. There are still enemies out there. There are still threats. Fight with me, bleed with me, and together we shall secure the future of our people.”
“You…” he said with eyes that bled hot tears. “You lie!”
Gorran suddenly produced a massive sword and swung it at my head, but the strike was blocked by one of the barbarians.
“Enough!” said a young barbarian holding the sword. “Your reign, and that of your fearmongering forebearers has come to an end. The Harbinger is dead, and so too is your rule.”
“Stormcrow?” said Gorran. “You dare stand against me?”
“I do,” said the young barbarian. “I declare Svedka!”
Kit leaned in toward my ear as the barbarians glared at each other. “Does he mean like the vodka? Are they going to have a drinking competition?”
“I doubt it, babe,” I whisper
ed.
An old barbarian witch with one good eye and a hell of a limp parted the barbarian crowd and raised her arms skyward. “Let it be known that Stormcrow, son of Parthon, has challenged Gorran, son of Erzadon. As dictated by the gods, they will now fight to the death.”
“Oh…” said Kit.
“Alright!” said the dwarf king. “I ain’t seen a good barbarian Svedka in years. Best be movin’ outside the boundaries o’ this here queer glade, else ye won’t be landin’ any blows.”
The two barbarians continued to stare at each other, and finally, Gorran spoke. “It will be an honor to kill you, Stormcrow. I accept your Svedka.”
Stormcrow looked to have a lot of followers, and more than half of the barbarian entourage cheered when the chieftain accepted the fight. They all turned and marched toward the glade’s southern border, and Hagar and the dwarves were quick to follow. They were even placing bets on the outcome.
We all watched with growing anticipation as the two barbarians stepped out of the glowing border of the glade and faced each other. The old witch went with them waving a burning sage stick and speaking in a harsh sounding foreign language.
Beside me, Kit produced popcorn from her interface and began munching enthusiastically. On my other side, Lyra watched the two barbarians intently. The other barbarians began to cheer when the witch announced the beginning of the match, and Gorran wasted no time going on the offensive.
He lunged at Stormcrow, but the younger, faster barbarian blocked the chieftain’s massive sword with his own black blade, which sparked against its counterpart angrily. The two big muscular men went round and round, exchanging blows and curses, and it appeared that the two were evenly matched. I was of course rooting for Stormcrow, since the young barbarian would be easier to convince to join us. Gorran may have been older, but it was obvious that he was more experienced. He expertly blocked every blow, and deftly retaliated with an onslaught that left Stormcrow staggering backward. The chieftain landed the first strike, and a groan issued through the crowd when Gorran’s sword sliced through Stormcrow’s shoulder, leaving a gaping red wound and the hint of white bone exposed for all to see.
Gorran’s followers cheered, while Stormcrow’s camp urged their leader on.
The younger barbarian didn’t seem to feel pain. He grinned at Gorran and retaliated with a string of strikes that left the chieftain bleeding from his right thigh, stomach, and chest. But Gorran scored his share of hits as well, and soon both men were bleeding from more than one wound. Neither had scored a killing blow, however, and the fight continued for another ten minutes. Neither Gorran nor Stormcrow seemed to be getting tired, and the many wounds did nothing to slow them down. It wasn’t until Gorran’s sword was ripped from his hands by a powerful strike that a killing blow was landed. With his opponent defenseless, Stormcrow brought his sword down in a powerful strike that took the chieftains left arm right off, leaving him with a surprised expression on his face and a stump squirting blood on the gathered crowd.
The dwarves and barbarians went wild, while the elves watched with dispassionate gazes. Gorran staggered back as the color left his face, and Stormcrow pointed at the chieftain’s dropped sword.
“Pick it up,” he said through clenched teeth.
As soon as Gorran did, Stormcrow swung hard. Gorran dropped to one knee and ducked under the blow, then struck like a cobra, thrusting his sword into Stormcrow’s gut. The young barbarian’s eyes widened, and Gorran held the sword there for many terrible moments as he stared into the dying man’s eyes. Then he looked to me, pulled the sword out, and swiftly spun and sliced Stormcrow’s head clean off.
“Oh shit!” Tweak blurted.
“Well that wasn’t supposed to go that way,” said Trinity under her breath.
“Ha-ha!” King Hagar howled. “Adda boy Gorran!”
Gorran turned from Stormcrow as the headless body hit the dirt, and he pointed a bloody sword at me. “You are next—”
The chieftain’s face suddenly twisted, then he dropped like a felled tree and hit the ground face first.
The barbarian witch rushed over to the fallen chieftain and rolled him over. She put her ear to his face and listened for breath, then she put her head against his chest. We all waited expectantly, and when the witch finally rose, she shook her head.
“The chief is dead!”
Cheers rose up from Stormcrow’s camp, and those who had backed Gorran hung their heads.
“Both are dead, but Gorran died last, therefore, he was the victor,” said the witch. “As dictated by the gods, the role of chieftain shall fall upon the shoulders of his son, Gregor!”
“Fuck me sideways,” I mumbled. I had been rooting for Stormcrow, hoping that his victory would secure our alliance, but now Gorran’s son was to be chieftain, and I doubted that he would see things differently than his father.
Gregor, son of Gorran, stepped forward, and I was surprised by how young he was.
“He’s just a kid,” said Anna.
Gregor walked over to his father’s dead body and kissed his bloody cheeks. Then he closed his father’s eyes and stood. The barbarian may have had a young face, but he had the chiseled body of a barbarian warrior and a frame that promised to be impressive once he was fully grown. He looked to be about fifteen and reminded me of a young Arnold Schwarzenegger.
“My father was a great chieftain,” he began in a voice sad but powerful and full of purpose. “Like him, I want to see our people thrive, and I accept my rightful title of Chieftain. My father’s life quest was to prepare himself and our tribe for the rise of the Harbinger. But the Harbinger is dead. Killed by King Samson and his knights.”
The barbarians glanced at us with a mix of adoration and grudging respect, and Gregor went on.
“Therefore, I must turn my attention to the new threat that we now face…the invaders from lands far and wide that have been prophesized by the Slayer of the Harbinger.”
“Is he saying what I think he be saying?” Tweak asked excitedly.
“I therefore pledge my support for an alliance between Haven, Stonespire, the Great Wood, and our tribe.”
“Well I’ll be a son of a bitch,” I said under my breath.
Gregor walked up to me and extended a big hand, which I shook firmly.
“Thank you, Gregor, your wisdom is great, and I believe that under your rule, your tribe will thrive,” I said, then I turned to the crowd. “Long live Gregor, son of Gorran!”
The crowd replied in kind and cheered, and I looked to Hagar and Lyra.
“Well then, what will it be?” I asked, arms wide. “Will you join us? Will you help us defend this land from those who wish to ravish it?”
“Aye, lad, ye got me support, that be for gods damned sure,” said Hagar with a wide grin.
“You have the support of the elves as well,” said Lyra.
Chapter 15
Shortly after the death of Gorran, Queen Lyra, King Hagar, and Chieftain Gregor signed a peace treaty and sealed our alliance. They promised us support in the coming battle, and we outlined a strategy. As far as the Orc Chieftains, Dragons of Fury, and Doomlords knew, the barbarians were still on their side. That assumption would come in handy when the army of guilds came to challenge us, so we laid out a plan to best utilize the ruse.
When we returned to Haven, I was feeling pretty damned good. The ban keeping players out of Ozara was going to be lifted in less than twenty-four hours, and I couldn’t have felt better. There was a lot still left to do, but my cooldown was up, and we really needed to get back the levels that we had lost dying in the first attack.
The mood in the bedroom that afternoon was wild. The girls were in rare form. They were excited about the new allegiance that we had made, and so was I. We made passionate love for over an hour, and the noise that we made could have awaken the dead. My energy level and excitement were boiling over, and by the time I finally climaxed, my ladies lay panting on the bed.
Congratulations!
You have reached level 68
“I fucking love you guys,” said Zoe.
They all laughed and pulled me back onto the bed for what Kit called a ‘cuddle puddle’.
“I love you all,” I said as I lay there in a tangle of bodies. “I want you all to know that. Thank you for staying with me through all this. I could have never done any of this without you.”
“We know,” said Ember, but then she cracked a smile. “I’m just busting your balls. Truth is, you’re the best thing about this world.”
“Well thanks Em,” I said.
Anna laughed suddenly. “When I found you on the road naked, I sure as hell didn’t think that I had discovered a future king.”
“I bet,” I said with a laugh.
“Wait,” said Zoe. “You found him on the road naked?”
Anna told the story again, and we all shared a long hearty laugh.
“You got ganked by Mad Morgan?” Zoe said through her laughter. “And he stole all your fucking money? That’s hilarious.”
“Yeah,” I said, unable to help but smile. “I had a bit of a rough start.”
“Look at you now,” said Cecilia.
“We sure have come a long way,” said Trinity.
“And we’ve got a lot farther to go,” said Kit. “We’re going to have the best damned kingdom in the entire game.”
“Amen sister,” said Stormy. “I’ve been in a few guilds, and I gotta tell you, you guys are the cat’s ass.”
A knock came at the door, and I smiled to myself. Maybe Miramar had finally learned to knock.
“Come in.”
It was indeed Miramar, and he looked quite pleased with himself for having knocked on the door.
“What’s up my wizard?” I said as I got up and tried to find my pants.
“Fortifications are complete, Sire. Your army awaits your inspection as well.”
“Excellent. We’ll be down shortly.”
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