Deadman's Retinue

by Pavel Kornev

  The eyeslits of the tiger helmet lit up with hell’s dark flames. The lion heads crowning Julian’s pauldrons came to life and bared their teeth. The armor itself turned dark and slimy like the hide of a submarine monster. Julian’s two-handed sword now resembled a bluish black lash which effortlessly repelled the next blow from Barth’s fiery saber while the scaly armor fended off the paladin’s other sword.

  Before Barth could do anything, his cuirass was cleft in two by a return blow. Immediately Julian struck again, this time aiming at his enemy’s legs. Barth’s wounded knee betrayed him, preventing him from leaping out of the way; he staggered and barely managed to stay on his feet.

  As he stepped back, I saw my chance. In a powerful but accurate combo, I thrust my flamberge forward, burying it with all my might into a gap between a pauldron and his breastplate. Barth’s left arm dangled listlessly.

  Critical hit! Crippling injury!

  Prince Julian immediately rushed back into the fray. He brandished his metamorphed sword with terrifying speed, sinking its black blade time and time again into Barth’s orange armor. The paladin’s health dwindled quickly. I only had time for one or two more slashing blows when Isabella joined in the massacre and gave Barth an almighty whack with her staff.

  Roger the skull — which had grown a nice layer of spikes — crushed the damaged visor, turning Barth’s face into a bloody mess. With a wave of his arms, Barth dropped onto his back. The glow exuded by his armor faded.

  At first, I didn’t even realize he was now dead. Then a system message flashed through my field of vision, reporting the XP received. This was followed by an avalanche of new level alerts.

  How many of them were there? One... two... ten!

  Although I’d only received my share of XP, the game had generously rewarded me for the victory over such a high-level player, allowing me to jump ten levels from 60 to 70. Then again, it wasn’t much reason to celebrate: somehow I doubted that Barth would be quite so easily defeatable ever again. And in order to activate the Scroll of Rebirth, I still needed to earn about thirteen times more XP compared to what I’d just been awarded for this little slaughter.

  And where was I supposed to find equally juicy mobs?

  I gave Prince Julian an appraising look but, having met his glare ablaze with hell’s flames, I hurried to step back.

  “Don’t you even think about it, boys,” Isabella said, arising from Barth’s body with a chainmail belt in her hands.

  After a brief hesitation, Julian sheathed his sword on his back. The darkness which had transformed his armor now shrank back like a snake shedding its skin. His armor regained its original luster.

  With a triumphant squawk, Scarecrow materialized out of thin air and shot upward.

  Shit! Neo!

  I ran up the stairs and heaved a sigh of relief. Barth’s mace had failed to kill the boy, only stunning him. Neo was already sitting on the floor, wiping his bloodied face with his sleeve.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “I’m okay, Uncle John,” the lad replied as he raised his hand. Scarecrow flew down and alighted on it.

  Although I hadn’t seen their stats, all things pointed to the fact that Barth’s death had brought them a fair slice of the gaming pie.

  “And what was that?” I asked. “I mean, what did you do to Prince Julian?”

  Neo climbed to his feet and shook his head to come back to his senses. “A Blessing of True Darkness,” he caught my quizzical stare and added, “You can’t use it on dead creatures. And as for Goar and Auntie Bella, they serve other deities.”

  I chuckled. “Talk about luck.”

  Just as I said it, the door was kicked open. Several players piled in from the street.

  I reached for my sword but promptly calmed down as I recognized Grakh among them. These were our Black Tracker escorts. I just hoped that they didn’t hold it against us that they’d been dragged into this meat grinder. Otherwise we would never fight our way out.

  At the sight of Prince Julian, the warriors bared their swords.

  Isabella hurried to step forward. “He’s with us!”

  “Whatever,” Grakh mumbled sullenly.

  The priestess ran up the stairs. “Julian, come with me! Grakh, you check the second floor! Don’t forget to post a watch! Grab all the scrolls!”

  “Right,” the Barbarian replied, with much more enthusiasm this time. When did he ever turn his nose up at a good bit of looting?

  I chuckled and hurried after Isabella and Julian up to the third floor. That’s where they kept the most valuable books.

  Time left: 29 days 22:38:13…

  TO MY SURPRISE, Isabella managed to organize our looting foray in an uncharacteristically practical manner. Each of us, even Neo, was given an area to search. We rummaged through bookcases and carried our discoveries to her for further sorting. The sheer amount of scrolls precluded us from loading up the whole lot.

  Strangely enough, Prince Julian worked alongside all the others without even attempting to question her orders. I tried to give him a wide birth but we still bumped into each other in the narrow corridors of the library. Whenever we passed each other, neither of us let our guard down.

  Our own greed prevented us from going for each other’s throats. The sale of all the looted scrolls could fetch us a whole heap of gold, so this wasn’t the right moment to start any silly quarrels.

  And although our paths were bound to cross in the future, this prospect worried me much less than the countdown timer hovering in the corner of my eye. Whether created by the game or my own overwrought imagination, this visual proof of the seconds burning away really got to me as I watched my remaining time literally slipping through my fingers.

  A month! Only a month! Less than thirty days!

  If I failed to make level 99 and activate the Scroll of Rebirth in order to bring myself back to life, that would be the end of me. The moment they had no more need of me, all charity would end and someone would pull the plug on my hospital bills.

  A sharp pain shot through my back. I smelled scorched flesh. My whole body was racked by a convulsion. I fell forward onto the bookcase just as Goar came back into the game. Clad in armor from head to toe, the Paladin of Equilibrium clattered to the floor, landing on both feet and drawing his sword from behind his back.

  “It’s all right,” I reassured him, struggling to overcome my malaise. Apparently, being the altar of the Mistress of the Crimson Moon wasn’t the most pleasant sensation in this world. “Grab some scrolls and take them to Isabella.”

  “Is he with us?” the orc asked in surprise, glimpsing Julian’s outline in a neighboring corridor.

  “Sort of,” I replied non-committally, loading myself with books and carrying them to the front hall. When I saw that Isabella was alone, I asked, “You sure you can keep the Prince on a short leash?”

  She smiled. “Don’t you worry, kitten. Everything’s under control.”

  Admittedly, her reply failed to reassure me. Still, I chose not to dwell on it. Instead, I changed the subject.

  “Goar’s come back.”

  “I felt it.”

  “And if the vampires get killed, will they respawn next to me too? They’re really the last thing we need here. Also, I can’t say I enjoyed the experience.”

  “I’ve already deleted them from your respawn point,” she replied. “You’d better get back to work. Nobody’s gonna let us rule the roost for long. This place is far too coveted.”

  Oh yes, she was dead right there. We could expect visitors any moment now. And if they happened to be some Spawn of Darkness looters, then the big question was how Julian would react.

  I cussed under my breath and hurried back to the depository. I even managed to empty a few bookcases when I heard Neo’s voice,

  “The Lighties are coming!”

  Air reconnaissance is a great thing, whatever you say. All this time, Scarecrow had been circling the sky above the library. He noticed the enemy’s av
ant-garde, allowing Isabella just enough time to cast a portal.

  She pointed at the pile of books and scrolls. “Take as much as you can manage,” she leaned over the banister and shouted down, “Grakh! We’ve got visitors! Start building barricades! We need to play for time!”

  The sound of bookcases being upended was her answer.

  We hurried to scoop up trophies into our bags, starting with the most valuable ones. That done, we continued packing our inventories with everything we could lay our hands on. Isabella took no further part in it, busy building some complex spell. It sort of reminded me of the incandescent cloud back in the Dungeon of the Dead, only this time the fiery lines that reached out to the ceiling forming the outline of a majestic figure expired before they could heat up to a forbidding crimson.

  I had no idea what she was up to but it didn’t bode well for the approaching Lighties. Actually, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to join in the slaughter.

  It was all experience, wasn’t it? I could always use some more.

  The sound of an entry being forced came from below. The warriors of the Sons of Light stormed the building and stomped up the staircase. They were met by a flight of arrows which failed to stop them. The barricade of the upended bookcases did the job much better, though.

  In the heat of the fray, a few enemy sorcerers decided to use Levitation to get to the second floor but Goar and Julian lifted an empty bookcase and hurled it down onto them while Black Tracker archers peppered them with arrows until they retreated.

  In the actual stairwell, however, the odds weren’t going in our favor. The enemy was much more numerous. I supported Grakh’s men by launching one Arrow of Death after the other but the measly damage dealt by my spells couldn’t turn the situation round. The enemy continued to hurl fireballs and bolts of lightning from below until we lost one barricade, then another.

  The Sons of Light kept up the pressure. Their fighters had already flooded the staircase, replacing each other when necessary. We had less than a dozen Trackers left standing.

  When we reached the landing between the second and third floors, Grakh was about to engage everyone in a pitched battle.

  “Enough!” Isabella called. “Let’s get out of here!”

  She was the first to dive into the portal, followed by all the rest. Lingering, I noticed a crimson cloud form under the ceiling, about to release torrents of liquid flame.

  The next moment, the library tower became a blazing inferno.

  Time left: 29 days 20:47:28…

  THE CAPITAL of the Dark side of the Towers of Power was located upon hundreds of islands in the Azure River delta: the smooth waters of the seemingly boundless bay, the majestic temples, the luxurious palaces and grim clan castles, dominated by the imposing Tower of Darkness which could be seen from any point in the city. The sheer affluence of it; all the expanse and grandeur!

  We, however, had been ported to a small closed courtyard, dark and damp, its overhanging roofs allowing only a glimpse of the sky.

  “What the hell?” I snapped, looking at the moldy walls surrounding us. “Where do you think we are? Or is it all part of your plan?”

  “Of course not!” Isabella retorted. “The force field isn’t stable, that’s all. It must have caused the exit point to shift. I was going to port us to Lloyd’s shop!”

  I opened the map. Apparently, we’d been released on a neighboring island about ten minutes’ walk from our supposed destination.

  “Okay,” I shrugged. “Let’s take a walk.”

  “Shut up!” she held up her hand and closed her eyes. “Give me five minutes!”

  Goar removed his closed helmet and gave a broad toothy grin, exposing his fangs. “You can have ten if you want,” he sniggered as a barely visible glow enveloped his body.

  Aha! He'd received a new level too!

  I gave Prince Julian an appraising look. He didn’t seem in a hurry to distribute his freshly-gained points. So I too decided against it. Distributing points is a rather intimate pastime, don’t you think? Also, I was very close to another upgrade of my undead side. You never knew who I might turn into. It would be better to wait.

  Only half a dozen Tracker warriors had survived the battle. None of them seemed in a hurry to leave us. As for Grakh, he didn’t let Isabella out of his sight.

  I’d love to know what kind of deal they had between them.

  “Uncle John!” Neo walked over to me, then added under his breath, “I can open a portal to the shop and take you with me. But only you.”

  His ginger hair made a stunning contrast to his pale complexion, appearing almost fiery, his eyes unfathomable pools of black. The newly-baked Commander of the Order of the Black Phoenix had evolved from a gap-toothed boy to a scrawny teenager who hadn’t yet come to grips with his new status.

  A piece of program code? I beg to differ...

  “No, thanks,” I patted him on the shoulder. “I think I’ll wait for Isabella.”

  “Please be careful, both of you.”

  Just as he said it, I heard the sound of an explosion not very far away. The earth shook underfoot.

  “Neo?” I said, becoming anxious. “Can I borrow Scarecrow?”

  He nodded. The dead phoenix hopped from his shoulder onto mine and fidgeted unhappily, leaving claw marks on my armor.

  “See you in the shop!” Neo shouted. A shimmering aura enveloped him; then it faded as Neo disappeared from the here and now. This didn’t at all resemble a normal teleportation.

  Clever little shit! I threw Scarecrow into the air. “Go, birdie! Go!”

  With an indignant squawk, the undead bird took to the wing. My ability to control the dead had formed a mental link between us, allowing me to see the area through Scarecrow’s eyes.

  And I can tell you, this was something to behold. The sky was enveloped in a gray haze. In the distance, pillars of black smoke rose over burning buildings. Combat spells flashed through the air. Two groups of players clashed in a desperate fight on a nearby street: their war cries, barely audible over the rattling of weapons, were picked up by the phoenix’s sharp hearing.

  “Darkness!” one group shouted.

  “Chaos!” the other parried.

  I opened my eyes and shook my head, trying to recover. “Darkness and Chaos? What’s this, a civil war or something?”

  “More like a St. Bartholomew’s night,” chuckled Goar who’d already finished distributing his points. “The Darkies are massacring the Chaosites.”

  Hearing this, the Black Trackers leader shivered impatiently and pointed his warriors to the courtyard’s exit.

  “Let’s kick some butt!” he shouted as he drew his sword from his shoulder scabbard.

  My uncomprehending gaze followed the players as they left. I demanded an explanation from Goar but before he could answer, Prince Julian piped up,

  “Some of the Darkies have switched sides and joined Chaos, so they’ve been declared outlaws.”

  “That’s right,” Goar said. “Those who didn’t manage to get out of the city in time are now fair game for everyone.”

  I whistled in surprise. The admins must have noticed the Darkies’ military superiority. It must have been them who’d organized this little confrontation in order to redress the game's balance which had been disturbed by the Darks' zealous enthusiasm in seizing the Light Towers of Power. But if so...

  I looked at Isabella. “And what about the Mistress of the Crimson Moon?”

  Prince Julian sniggered. “What a dumbass! Once a zombie, always a zombie!”

  “Our foxy priestess is now with the Chaosites,” Goar said with a grin, confirming my suspicions.

  I looked back at the Black Trackers. “But...”

  “I can’t work it out, either,” Goar replied under his breath.

  It was nice to see that even Julian was at a loss this time.

  Just then, Isabella sighed noisily as she came out of her trance. Goar’s eyes widened as he looked at her.

  I could
understand him. She was already level 61, and somehow I didn’t think she’d gotten it all just for killing Barth. Even if you counted her burning of the Lighties back in the library, this kind of progress was still suspiciously fast.

  “I can’t open a portal from here,” the priestess announced. “We’ll have to walk back to the shop.”

  “Do we have to?” Goar grumbled. “What the hell for?”

  “We need to get rid of the scrolls before every auction is stuffed with trophies from the Kingdom of the Dead,” she explained.

  Her desire to cream off all the spoils seemed a good enough reason to take the risk. I opened the map. “It’s about a mile away. There aren’t many people around but there’s a bridge on our way.”