by G. Akella
"What are you thinking?" the mage asked as he returned to the campfire, handing a sixteen ounce copper tankard to the warrior.
"Where were you just now?"
"Just giving you time to pour this hooch," the young man dodged the question. "Hold on, I'll need all of my resolve to get through this," he grimaced ostentatiously. "I don't believe I've ever tasted anything quite like this pigswill."
To be fair, the tankard's contents reeked of something resembling rubber alcohol. Maybe abstaining would be the prudent thing here? he couldn't help but think. Then again, Bonbon and Donut had been consuming this stuff on the regular, going as far as claiming that the moonshine's taste was actually quite tolerable.
"Well, shall we?" Luffy rose to his feet, and clinked his tankard with Max's. Then he froze there, mouth agape. "We haven't drunk yet, my lady," he mumbled, making a funny face. "I say, it's too early for you to appear to us."
As he spoke, Max got up and nodded to the new arrival—a gaunt young woman wearing an intricate garment of woven flowers and twigs, which stuck out like porcupine needles, and trying real hard not to stare at her bare chest. That she was a dryad, Max had absolutely no doubt. Her name was Aeoli. With huge emerald-green eyes and flawless symmetrical features, the level 70 dryad looked like a beauty queen who hadn't quite grown out of that awkward teenage phase. Max remembered the books he'd read, which claimed that a dryad's age was directly proportional to the age of the trees she protected. If that information was accurate, he mustn't be mislead by the creature's youthful appearance.
So, Donut and Bonbon weren't lying... though nobody had believed them a week ago. In everybody's defense, the skepticism was well grounded, as the pair had gotten so plastered the night before they could barely remember their own names in the morning.
"What brings a true daughter of the forest to our humble hearth?" he asked politely of the young woman, and realizing that his interactions with the rogue were proving rather useful—when given the opportunity, he now knew how to properly address such creatures.
"My sisters and I are grateful, Nightcralwer," Aeoli smiled, baring perfect teeth that were white as snow. "And to you, young elf marked by a daughter of a High House," her head cocked, she addressed the mage, who was still standing there with his jaw dropped. "And to all your companions for all you've done to help cleanse this forest of the blight. I know that tomorrow you will depart for the den of the Dark God's servants, and I have a small favor to ask of you."
"I'm at full attention," said Max, taking initiative.
"The flame," the girl nodded at the smoldering embers of the campfire. "We're not fond of the flame, but I ask you this nonetheless: after you've destroyed the adepts, you must commit all that is there to the cleansing flame. Here, take this," a pair of small objects magically materialized in her hands. She handed one to the warrior, and the other to the mage. "These seeds will aid you in your travels. And this," Aeoli reached into the folds of her garment, produced an elongated white object, and handed it to Max. "Give this to the Mistress. The Two-Faced Goddess must know who stands behind all this. Tell the Mistress that we remember her, and await her return," the young woman winked playfully to Luffy, who was looking comically discombobulated, and slipped into the darkness surrounding the blazing campfire.
"Watch out, swarms of mosquitoes will be flying in there soon," Max snickered, looking at his transfixed companion. "We need to do something about you, man—you lose the gift of speech whenever you see a pretty girl," he continued with pity in his eyes. "Was it the teenage breasts that did you in? Because I didn't take you for a cradle robber."
"Oh, screw you," Luffy cussed at him without any malice. Upending the contents of his tankard into his gullet, he proceeded to stare at the object clutched by his left hand. "Oh, snap!" he exhaled with awe, and showed it to Max.
Anjaenore's Enchanted Seed.
Bound item. Expendable.
Unique.
When used, multiplies the power of your damage and healing spells by 10 for 20 seconds.
Break to use.
"Too bad it's only for single use," he sighed. "What about yours?"
Max opened his palm, displaying a brown seed the size of a garden plum.
Olimare's Enchanted Seed.
Bound item. Expendable.
Unique.
When used, you become completely invulnerable to any pain for 60 seconds.
Break to use.
"Bonbon would have gotten more use out of this, but, alas, it's non-transferable," Max said with regret. Slipping the seed into a free slot on his belt, he shifted his gaze at the second object gifted by the dryad.
Cenatodone's Tooth.
And that was it—no stats of any kind. The thirteen-inch fang wasn't even a quest item. Only Max knew exactly what beast it belonged to, and that knowledge gave him no comfort at all.
"I imagine you need to deliver that thing to Kirana? Who else could the dryad have dubbed a 'Two-Faced Goddess'..." Luffy conjectured. "I'm not particularly eager to meet that kind of beastie in the woods at night..."
"Me neither," said Max with a sigh. "I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'm no fire mage—contemplating the flame is no substitute for sleep." He got up, put the fang away in his bag, and started toward their transient dwelling.
"Hey," the mage called out from behind him. "Who's going to finish your drink?"
"It's yours. Or you can just dump it," he waved him away. "Suddenly I'm in no mood to drink..."
Chapter 2
"Well, Max, what's the plan?" Donut spat out a toothpick, then turned toward his comrade with an questioning look.
"You're looking at me like I'm some squad commander for the Green Berets," the warrior sniffed. "What I'm seeing is totally at odds with what I know about the game. In all the time we've been laying low in these bushes, I didn't notice any pattern in the movement or actions of these bastards."
"That's the thing," the rogue frowned. "They're behaving like players do. Should I make another sally?"
"What's the point?"
"To eavesdrop on their conversation."
"And how would that help us?"
"I don't know, but we need to do something!"
"Aye, we do," Max nodded. "But if any one of us dies, that will set the whole team back three weeks. Is that what you want? No? Then take a deep breath and put your thinking cap on."
It had been four hours since he, Donut and Rexar settled behind a fallen tree trunk, further obscured by a thick underbrush, to observe the disavowed. Their base stood at the foot of a steep grassy hill some two hundred yards from the forest line. The adepts of the god of torturous death couldn't be bothered putting up any kind of fence around their structure, apparently unconcerned with security.
What served as the main structure was an elongated one-story log cabin blackened with time. A small roofed terrace jutted out over the front entrance, propped up on four decorticated wooden stakes. Standing on the left side of the main structure was its cousin—another single-story log cabin, only squarely shaped, windowless and with a sloping roof. Just past it the trio could make out a dilapidated shed, and further behind that—according to Donut after his scouting run—lay the entrance to an abandoned copper mine that the disavowed had appropriated for their own needs. Completing the picture was a small well and a strange construct of boulders stacked one over another.
There were never less than four-five people outside: a couple lounging beneath a canopy near the shed, and the others scurrying to and fro on their errands. At a glance one might mistake them for farmers going about their day—if not for the gray adept robes, faces obscured by hoods, and the heavy stench of rotting flesh wafting in from their direction, spoiling the illusion of an idyllic farm life.
What the bloody hell! Max was thinking. Even if you spend your days and nights torturing and killing people, can you ever really enjoy breathing this stench? Or is it just the developers' sick fantasies? Who do these sickos even torture for entertainment?
Wild hogs? Deer? Not that any of that really mattered. He wasn't here to question the logic of the world's creators, but to annihilate all these bastards, lay the quest item upon the goddess' altar, and get the hell out of here posthaste. Preferably to Ellorian. Once there, they could catch their breath and ponder their next steps.
"Max! Max!"
"What?" He turned around to see Rexar tugging on his sleeve.
"You never said what you disliked about my plan."
"Fine, let's run through it. You come out and show yourself to them—then what?" the warrior asked with a sigh. "How many of them do you think will give chase? Two? Three? All of them? In the latter case, we'd have no choice but to run. No way we can take ten level 65 NPCs all at once, and that's not even counting their boss. And if we get lucky and it's only a few, killing those few would tip off the rest, and we'd lose the element of surprise. And besides, somehow I don't fully believe that they have zero contact with the outside world."
"Aren't you forgetting something? These are your typical NPCs who will forget all about you the moment you lose aggro?"
"Rexar, I've already met NPCs that are much smarter than the two of us put together. And that makes me reluctant to take needless risks."
"The commander is right," the rogue voiced his support. "We need to put them down all at once!"
"Fine, have at it, then," the ranger gave a frustrated wave of the hand. "I suck at brainstorming, apparently."
"Tell me this, Donut..." Leaning back against the fallen tree trunk, Max waited till he was comfortable, then continued. "Can you jam the lock in that shed?" he gestured toward the square structure. "And if so, how long would it take Rexar and Luffy to set fire to it? Masyanya doesn't have Fiery Arrow, as far as I remember..."
"You want to burn the disavowed in the shed? But—"
"Is that against the game rules somehow?"
"No, but—"
"Look, we have to start thinking outside the box here," said Max with a frown. "If the NPCs are much smarter than before, if they're virtually identical to people, then let's start killing them as we would real people!"
"It's absolutely absurd," the rogue shook his head, "but we can still try. The shed should catch fire in a minute's time—I doubt there are any fireproof spells on those logs, and our mage has bolstered his firepower lately. And if that's not enough, I have six vials with quite an explosive cocktail," he smiled wickedly. "Those doors can be bolted from the outside—easy-peasy."
"Donut sure did pick the right class to play," Rexar snorted. "I leveled my Fiery Arrow recently, so, in theory, even I should be able to ignite the shed. But if Luffy and our illustrious assassin with his Molotov cocktails lend a hand, we should get a fire going pretty quickly."
"Splendid," Max nodded, then turned to Donut. "Here's the plan, then. The two of you will take Luffy and approach the shed from the left side. You will use stealth, while Luffy with Rexar will pop invisibility potions—I believe we've got sixteen in storage. The rest of the party will use invisibility to sneak right up to the disavowed who'll be outside. As soon as you latch the door, we will spring to attack. That's the gist of it, anyway. Get the others and we'll iron out the details."
After the whole party gathered and set to waiting, about two hours passed before the boss named Agralon—a tall necromancer with strange black runes inscribed on his thick gray robe—walked into the shed, accompanied by five of his underlings. Both groups wasted no time downing invisibility potions and taking their positions, then freezing in wait for the ranger's signal. Max had transferred the command for this battle to Rexar—in his experience, being in the thick of melee combat made it extremely difficult to keep one's finger on the pulse of the battle and make timely decisions that often decided the final outcome.
Slipping out of the shadows outside the square structure, Donut latched the door in the span of two seconds. Just then Luffy threw up his hands, and one of the gray-robed humanoids lounging under the canopy was suddenly a sheep. "Attack!" came the war cry from Rexar, and the battle was on.
Upon hearing the call, Max Charged into the disavowed that was running out from under the canopy, his sword smashing into the scum's right collarbone. The heavy blade left a broad bloody mark on the shoulder of his target; after crying out like a girl, the enemy quickly recovered from the brief stun to knock the warrior back with magic, then immediately cast some kind of curse on him.
Asshole! Max growled, spitting blood to the ground as he sprang back to his feet. Another spell woven by the disavowed hit him, and his HP bar plummeted to nearly half. His world suddenly a sea of red, he dispelled the negative magic with a Berserker's Roar, and dashed at the gray figure crouching low to the ground, its health bar dinged by less than twenty percent from the earlier blow. But the necromancer had no intention of retreating, throwing out a small metal rod that he gripped with both hands. The warrior doubled over as a magic whip struck at his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Suddenly he couldn't breathe, and every move took a monumental effort. The curse was siphoning his strength and transferring it to the disavowed. The thought that he was about to die registered with full impact in his mind, but he just set his jaw and kept pressing forward, though it seemed like he was trudging through a quagmire, one inch at a time, toward an enemy that had already nearly recovered all of his health.
A cool wave of healing lifted the bloody veil blurring his vision moments before he lost consciousness just as an arrow plunged into the disavowed's chest with a squelch, making him stagger. Rexar's shot broke the necromancer's focus, lessening the pressure on the warrior's chest. As the cooldown on his Charge reset, he closed the distance between them and smashed the butt of his blade into his opponent's face, putting all of his fear and fury into it. The disavowed reeled and tried to Jump away, but Max would not relent, knocking the disoriented target on the ground with a powerful kick of his chainmail boot. His Death Blow crit, plunging the necromancer's HP bar into the yellow as he squealed from the pain. Then he twisted on the ground in a way no human being ever could, evading Max's next strike and countering with a strong double kick to Max's groin. As the warrior doubled over in pain, the disavowed Jumped, then hurled an Arrow of Darkness that was followed immediately by another curse. That was the last of his triumphs, however, as a pair of arrows struck and spun the disavowed's body on its axis. The dark mage teetered, then collapsed to the ground.
Another wave of healing forced the pain to recede. Max straightened up with some difficulty, struggling to catch his breath as he took stock of the situation. The wind blew in his face with a strange cocktail of heat, ash and burning plastic. The battle was nearly over. The last of the five necromancers—the one Luffy had turned into a sheep at the very beginning—was trying to flee into the main building, favoring his right foot. An arrow whistled by from Masyanya's direction and hit him in the back. The enemy staggered and was almost immediately toppled by a large black panther. With one powerful strike of the paw, it was all over.
The laboratory structure was ablaze with a bluish flame so unnaturally brilliant that it could probably be seen from the elven capital. Muffled shouts could be heard from inside the burning cabin.
"You OK?" Alyona's worried voice in his head brought a tortured smile to his lips.
"All good," he exhaled, trying to add as much confidence to his tone as he could. Then, grimacing through the pain, he started over to the disavowed's corpse.
Though his hit points had been restored to full, the pain from banal bruises, cuts and other such injuries that plague us occasionally in the real world would not immediately relent. Max hadn't a clue as to why that was, but he was grateful to the goddess of luck that he was even upright. Were the disavowed to have struck him mere inches lower... he shuddered to imagine what would happen. A game though this may be, he just didn't see how it would be possible to ever fully recover from a strike of that magnitude right in the perineum. So, why was he walking over to the body? Not for loot—they would split all that later. No,
he wanted a look at the enemy soldier who had nearly dispatched him to his next incarnation. There was no doubt in his mind that if it weren't for his friends' assistance, he would have been long dead. It irked him that a same-level NPC could dispose of him with such ease. Somebody cussed into the raid channel. Next came a sob from Ellanca, followed by retching sounds. That wasn't surprising, considering this was their first battle against humanoids. And if anyone were to sound off that real warriors mustn't feel any emotions, Max would readily point them to the mangled bodies lying in pools of blood, pincushioned with arrows. With those thoughts, the warrior turned over the body of the disavowed, bloodied robe and all, and froze in a stupor. It was a woman. A young woman, almost a girl! The pale skin of her face contrasted starkly with the blood trickling from her half-opened mouth. Her huge brown eyes were wide open, communicating sheer terror. The sight of her cast Max in a cold sweat. What had he done?! And what kind of monster would create a game in which you had to kill women?! The warrior drew several deep breaths, trying to quell his rebelling conscience. He wiped the cold beads from his brow and swore in exasperation.
"What's wrong, Max?"
His state of shock was broken by Alyona's voice, who seemed to sense his emotional turmoil. He was about to respond when there came a deafening explosion, causing his XP bar to spike and the combat log blow up with text. At the same time, there was an ear-piercing roar of inhuman fury, as powerful blows began to shake the walls of the burning building. The wooden frame groaned, and within moments the roof of the structure came caving in.
"Steer clear! Fan out!" Rexar bellowed into the channel. "Everybody, get ready. Ellanca, we're counting on you!"
"I'm fine," the girl snarled at him. "You're not my freaking shrink."
Forgetting all about his recent navel-gazing, Max rushed to take his position to Bonbon's right, blocking the path to the lightly-armored archers and healers.