by Cid Banks
My four-person band weaved through clashing men and women, entourage in tow. An axe whirled at me, but a mage stopped the would-be-assassin’s charge with an ice shard through his chest. Amy cleaved through retreating soldiers as we surged to the walls. Howling wind pelted me with rain.
A spearman leaped several stories, hopping onto the wall. His sweeping attack knocked back a row of archers. He windmilled as they aimed, deflecting their bolts. A scream tore the air as he impaled two enemies. As the spearman battled, rebels threw grappling hooks and scaled the barrier.
Still no sign of the Storm King.
We charged the gatehouse. A hail of projectiles darted from above. Felled rebels screamed, grasping at their chests. I stepped over their bodies, gazing at the enemies taking defensive positions among the black and gold banners.
“Nay-oh-mee!” I sang improvised lyrics. “I-I need to get up there!”
“Okay!” She wiped hair from her mouth. “Let me think!”
A dagger-wielding rogue slashed at the band. Screaming, Naomi pulled me out of harm’s way. My bodyguard mages blasted the assassin with green vines. Thick roots shot from the earth, snaking around his ribs and crushing him.
“Show’s over,” my keytarist groaned, looking up from the blade sticking from his chest. His body split, becoming two-dimensional glass that shattered around the blade.
Duplicate
A new clone crystalized, seizing the instrument from the fading copy.
I was going through clones too fast.
Whipping the strands blowing over her face, Naomi cradled an orange glow to her breast. Rain flattened Naomi’s ebony waves as she nurtured the expanding sphere of flame. With a cry, she flung out her hands.
Amplify
As I chanted the chorus, a concussive blast roared from Naomi’s fingers. The flame ballooned to the size of a truck. It rolled across the battlefield in a massive wave, leaving blackened grass in its wake. It smashed into the gate. A thunderous explosion rocked the ground. The smoke cleared, revealing a hole blown from the wood. The giant doors were incinerated.
Naomi smirked, wiping her brow. “Knock knock motherfucker!”
Armored, mace-wielding men led the sortie from the blown hole. Spiked balls crashed through shields as they charged us. Rebels rushed to our defense. The battle raged as we struggled to secure the most crucial position, but we pressed onward. We bashed the sortie into the courtyard as lightning cracked. The Song of Smashing clashed against the booming thunder, throwing elite defenders against the keep.
Shit. There was a problem.
The walls would muffle my song for anyone outside the castle. I needed to be heard everywhere for this to work. I stopped playing and yelled to my entourage. The damage buff disappeared from my allies.
“James!” Amy looked around for me, white-faced. “Shouldn’t you be doing your rockstar routine?”
“No one can hear me!” I pointed at the gatehouse. “Get me on top of there!”
Grabbing my arm, she hauled me in a fireman’s lift. Her knees bent, and then she sprang. I flew as she hurled me.
I screamed as I soared up several stories. Slowly, I fell. I scrabbled for purchase on the stone face, sliding. Suddenly, a hand shot from the ramparts and seized me. I thanked the man as he yanked me onto the gatehouse. He turned, immediately loosing an arrow.
The rebel forces were defeating the archers along the wall. Cedric led the attack, his hammer mowing them down. Surrounded by the mages, my band ran up the stairs. Cowbell emerged, finding me. “Look out!”
I dodged a spear attack.
Teleport
I reappeared behind the spearman. A shriek tore from his lungs as I shoved him off the ramparts.
He kneeled, hands held high. “No, wait! I’m just doing my job!”
Amy gutted him with a sickening crunch.
My entourage fought to rejoin me. My duplicates dodged enemy attacks, clutching their instruments. A bolt of magic blasted the bassist. He exploded in a whirl of shattering magic. Fuck. My band was down to three.
Without the buff from Song of Smashing, rebels were being beaten back. Cedric was struggling to keep control of the wall.
I needed to play the most epic guitar solo I could think of. Carry On Wayward Son.
I slammed the strings, belting out the opening lyrics. Lightning and thunder crashed as my music shuddered the battlefield. The wind was blown away, overwhelmed by the rock song, but the Storm King’s troops hadn’t given up yet.
Below us, the vastly outnumbered rebels battered the brass enemies. Allied archers loosed arrows, one after the other. Mages threw defensive spells at a maniacal pace. Torrents of flame and ice jetted from Naomi. On the stairs, Amy cut down foe after foe. Cedric blocked the attack of an enemy’s armored gauntlet.
“A thousand gold coins to the man who kills the bard!”
The voice came from a heavily scarred face. He wore green, mismatching armor instead of the black and gold of the Storm King’s troops. Twisted daggers were strapped across his chest. A steel sleeve covered his spiked shoulder plate and his gauntlets, which danced with flame.
Koren the Fist
Level 13 Brawler
Feudal Rank 1 Commander, The Sellswords Guild
HP: 78/78
Strength: 17 Reflex: 10 Willpower: 4 Charisma: 8
Traits: Cruel, Greedy, [unknown]
Relationship: Hostile Enemy
He punched Cedric with a flaming fist. With a roar of pain, the rebel captain fell backward. Naomi sprinted forward. Koren punched. Naomi blasted his gauntlet. Screaming, he slammed her into the wet stone. They wrestled, Naomi tearing at him.
He broke free of her and faced me. “Maybe I’ll take the prize myself!”
Koren charged. The raging brawler swung. My keytarist ducked. Arrows bounced off the sellsword’s armor. Unfazed, he grabbed my keytarist’s neck. A blaze erupted from his fingers, and he incinerated my duplicate. It shattered around him, and the wind took the pieces away.
“I’ll stop you!” My last guardian mage sprayed him with rippling, blue magic. He sank his fist into her stomach. She gasped, her eyes wide. A whirlwind of fire pushed her off the wall. Her limp body crashed onto the stones below.
Fuck. I had to end this.
My remaining clone deflected a punch with his cowbell. A slam from the villain’s shoulder knocked him off his feet. A blow of flame ate through my duplicate’s chest, shattering the illusion.
Brushing herself off, Naomi scampered upright and zeroed in on the sellsword captain. A torrent of lightning bolted from the sky. A blinding explosion of light chained through him. He spasmed before crumbling into a sizzling pile.
Something was wrong. The Storm King hadn’t shown.
Cedric seized the barely-alive sellsword, who still smoked from the electrical blast. “Where is he?”
He laughed. “He doesn’t need an army to crush you. I wager he doesn’t think your pathetic rabble is worth getting off the shitter.”
Amy’s large blade rested against the sellsword’s neck, trembling.
“Is he worth dying for?” I asked him. “He won’t even fight alongside you.”
“The Sellsword’s Guild has never in its history abandoned a paid contract,” he hissed. “Gold is a bond stronger than blood to us. Your threats mean nothing!”
Amy grinned, the berserker rage flaring in her eyes. “What good is gold to a man with no head?”
The commander blanched. “He waits in the throne room, whore.”
Cedric cold-cocked the sellsword.
Rebels cheered as soldiers retreated from the courtyard. Battle sounds echoed from the outer walls, along the rain-soaked bridges, inside the keep, everywhere. A rebel lieutenant led the charge against the routing enemy.
Cedric, Amy, Naomi and I descended to the main keep. A mahogany door adorned with lightning bolts blocked us from the Storm King.
“Everyone ready?” I glanced at Amy, who looked tired but determined.
Naomi took a dee
p, shuddering breath. “Let’s do this.”
It was time for a boss fight.
Twenty-Seven
The keep was empty.
We passed an ornate table and an iron throne decorated with golden skulls. I paused at the black tapestries. Swirls of lightning, the Storm King’s insignia, were stitched onto the fabric. Water rattled the windowpanes. Wingbeats filled the room as crows dived from their nests to swoop over our heads.
“He’s here.” Cedric’ voice rolled with contempt. “This is his sanctum. His hall of bloody conquest.”
Behind an opulent black marble throne were dozens of shredded banners representing the lands he’d conquered. I recognized Goldbridge’s, the white flag with a star. I imagined my sky blue banner with the lute hanging beside his trophies.
I tightened my grip on my crossbow. “He’s not getting mine.”
“Where should we go?” Naomi asked.
I turned my attention to the wind howling up the stairs. Water trickled down the steps. It made sense to follow the source of the storm. Rain pelted my face as we climbed, carried by fierce gusts whistling down the stairwell.
There could be no mistakes.
32/32HP
12/21MP
I’d saturated myself with so many mana potions that any more would be worthless to me. At the rate my MP recharged, I’d have two, maybe three spells in this fight. I needed to make them count.
A wide doorway opened onto a rooftop courtyard. Brooding clouds circled overhead like those above a hurricane. A yellow light occasionally flashed, illuminating the wet stone.
Hundreds of the Storm King’s flags rippled the edges of rooftops. Water sluiced over our heads as another flash illuminated a tall silhouette.
“Interlopers.”
A grave voice rasped from the Storm King’s thick chest. Elite guards stood at his side, wearing gold-and-brass scaled armor. Dark cloaks fluttered down their backs. Each carried a golden-tipped halberd of dark steel with a billowing, black banner. The Storm King’s battle axe lay in a puddle before him, rain pinging off it.
“He’s probably immune to lightning attacks. We take out the guards first,” Naomi whispered. “Distract him until we kill those elites, and then we outnumber him four-to-one.”
“Same strategy as the blood demon.” I looked at Amy, who nodded. “Keep him moving. I’ll swap songs to buff your attacks and debuff him when he goes on the offense. Make sure you stay clear of that axe.”
The Storm King
Level 28 Death Knight
Feudal Rank 3 King of The Stormrealm
HP: 152/152
Strength: 28 Reflex: 12 Willpower: 22 Charisma: 8
Traits: Cruel, [unknown], [unknown]
Relationship: Hostile
The Storm King raised his head. A crown of scales sat around the rim of his spiked helmet. Deep black slits obscured his eyes. He hoisted the massive axe onto his shoulder as charcoal vapor trailed from the blades. A blast of steam snorted from his helmet.
“Pathetic mobs,” he spat. “I’ve conquered stronger foes than you. This is my kingdom.”
“No,” Cedric shouted. “Your reign of terror ends today.”
“I can do this.” I hissed, steeling myself for battle.
“Yes.” Naomi’s lips tugged. “Ready?”
The Storm King pointed his axe. “The fury of the storm comes for you!”
Lightning bolted into his outstretched arms, coursing through his armor. Tendrils of electricity jumped across the stone.
We leaped, scattering in different directions. Amy and Cedric surged forward to engage the enemy while Naomi and I hung back.
Cedric cast a barrier over his shield and ducked. The Storm King’s axe slammed into Cedric. Shards of blue light exploded, dancing with light. Cedric blocked another vicious swing, planting his feet. Every crash shook the roof. Lightning blasted the ground, cratering the rock. Cedric grimaced as he guarded against the vicious blows.
A guard whirled his bannered halberd at me. I dove aside. Rain slicked my footing as the deadly edge whistled over my neck. Dodging him, I clutched my guitar and played the Song of Smashing.
Buffed with the melody, Amy darted toward the enemy. Screaming, she ran the elite through for 93. The halberd fell. Amy lifted the squirming elite, slamming him down for 61. She yanked her blade free, crimson spraying her face. He didn’t get up.
One down.
I’d kill the bastard without laying a finger on him. My strength came from supporting my friends. Every strum of the guitar was more important than a dozen crossbow bolts.
The Storm King roared, axe held aloft as his howl mingled with a fierce gust. Cedric struggled to keep his foothold. Amy plunged her sword down, anchoring herself in place. My music swept everywhere as the hail buffeted me back and forth.
Growling, Amy launched a bevy of wild slashing attacks. The Storm King lazily parried each blow. An elite guard dashed across the battlefield. His halberd slashed at Naomi, who wailed.
21 damage
Blood sprayed the black flag. Naomi fell, stunned.
“Naomi!”
Cedric appeared at her side, blocking the second assault. With a blow from his hammer, he shoved the enemy back.
Duplicate
My clone charged at the elite. The illusion danced out of the halberd’s reach as I ran toward Naomi. I yanked her from the puddle, careful to avoid her wound.
“I’m all right.” Naomi winced as she mended her skin with a healing spell. Her eyes flicked above my shoulder. “James!”
Naomi pulled me down. The halberd stabbed the air where I’d been standing. I drew the guard’s attack, guiding him away from her. It was a miracle I didn’t drop the damned guitar. I bobbed and weaved, narrowly missing his stabs.
Growling in frustration, the elite rammed into me. Seconds later the middle of the shaft slammed into my face. My head ripped back. I collapsed, groaning.
23HP
“Missed me, you dumb fuck!” My clone laughed, taunting the elite.
The guard glanced between us and lurched in my duplicate’s direction, taking the bait. He was upon my copy in seconds. I saw myself cringe against the stone, playing the guitar furiously. The spear plunged into his body.
“You fucked up, pal.” The clone smiled before he crumbled into mirror shards.
Suddenly, Cedric’s hammer crashed on the elite’s helm for 88.
“Kill them, then!” The Storm King roared. “I don’t need guards! I was chosen to rule. The world will be mine. My banner will fly above every ruin, above the smoking bones of your carcasses!”
He faced me and flung out a wave of cobalt energy. It struck me, sucking air from my throat. He laughed, a high-pitched scream. Then a torrent of lightning whipped across the arena. I jumped out of its path.
Thunder boomed. The storm became even more frenzied, swirling like a hurricane. We stood in the heart of a swirling maelstrom, blocked by a fierce wind. The Storm King shouted at the sky. Lightning bolted into his axe, which he aimed at Naomi.
I opened my mouth to warn her, but nothing came out.
What?
SILENCE.
Oh fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
I couldn’t cast spells or sing. I was supposed to buff the team! Now I was as useful as wet cardboard.
“You won’t ruin what I’ve built!” The Storm King’s electricity smashed into Naomi’s hastily drawn shield.
The energy bubble shattered. She fell as Amy slammed into the boss for 31 damage. Shit. Without my song buff, we couldn’t beat him.
I seized my crossbow and fired. The bolt bounced off his thick armor. 2 damage. I wanted to cry.
What could I do?
My dagger was useless. Even if I were close enough to use it, he’d slaughter me with a single blow.
There must be something.
No spells or songs. I scrolled through my inventory, finding the Bonfire Blast Potion. I held the bottle that pulsed with a faint red glow.
Yes.
My job was to buff and debuff, not attack. I had an idea.
Dashing across the arena, I snatched a dropped halberd. It was heavy. The banner was drenched with water. I needed to act quickly. The Storm King swung his axe in an arc that threw back Amy and Cedric.
I fought through the wind, gazing at the roof below the keep. Clay shingles gave way as I lost my footing. The shingles dropped into the ramparts without a sound.
Shit, this was a terrible idea.
Using my teeth, I popped the cork of the bottle. A tar-like stench oozed from its lip. Holding it at arm’s length, I tossed the liquid at the rows of black flags. Upon contact, it surged into flame. Before the fire grew out of control, I teased the banner over the fire. It burst into flames.
Using the halberd as a torch, I dashed across the roof and lit every flag. Flames licked at my back as the halberd was consumed. I couldn’t hold onto it for much longer, but I had to keep going. Soon, all four edges of the room were ablaze.
Cedric and Naomi were busy parrying, blocking, and fending off the Storm King’s brutal attacks.
The spear was uncomfortably hot. I approached the Storm King, completely silent, and flung the halberd. It soared. The shaft bounced off him, doing no damage, but his cape erupted into flames.
Shrieking, he ripped off his burning cowl.
Everything was on fire. Hundreds of banners burned, the wind and rain acting as a conductor. Blood-red flames danced as the rooftop smoldered. The way things were going, we would all die.
I flipped him a double bird.
Steam poured from the malevolent slits in his helmet. His wordless rage was expressed in the furious storm. He raised his axe. Tornadoes touched down, smashing the stone battlefield. The smoldering banners shredded apart.
A wall of air crashed into me. It thrust me backward for 8 damage. The Storm King reached into the roaring heavens, as a downpour showered us.
Rule number one of grease fires: Don’t add water. Especially if magical grease fires are involved.
As the squall descended, the tornadoes became whirlwinds of infectious fire. The flames leaped upward, climbing the cyclones and scorching the troubled sky. Lightning forked among the smoldering clouds.