Deadman's Retinue

by Pavel Kornev

  Stealth mode: Activated

  Internal Energy: -1 (114/115)

  I acted on reflex. Before I could even get properly scared, I was already stealthed up, merging with the surrounding darkness. The bear barged past me and attacked Goar instead, almost knocking him off his feet. The bear’s enormous bulk pinned the paladin to the pine tree which creaked its protest. The creature’s terrible claws grated against Goar’s armor.

  Daggers in both hands, I ran up to them and started burying the blades in the bear’s back: left, right, left, right, left, right!

  Pointless. My daggers barely made a dent in his skin, getting stuck in the thick layer of fat underneath without reaching the creature’s internal organs. My left hand wasn’t particularly agile anyway, so the second dagger only distracted me.

  Cussing, I flung the second dagger aside, grabbed the Elven knife with both hands and launched myself at the bear again.

  Yes! Now I had damage!

  “Quick!” Goar wheezed, pinned to the tree. “He has awful bad breath!”

  He grabbed the bear’s jaws and tried to force his head aside, his gauntlet dripping with the beast’s saliva. The monster’s claws kept grating impotently at Goar’s black armor, unable to pierce its metal. And I could see that the bear wasn’t strong enough to wrestle the paladin down — in fact, Goar was more likely to overcome the animal had it come to a hand-to-hand.

  I stopped stabbing the bear’s back without any system and focused, trying to remember my admittedly lacking knowledge of anatomy. Never mind I was supposed to specialize in humanoids: paired with a bit of common sense, my training now helped me to divine the bear’s most vulnerable spot and bury my dagger into it.

  Now we were cooking!

  When the bear finally died and an utterly disgusted Goar pushed him off himself, I heaved a sigh of relief and hurried to invest whatever points I now had available after having just received a new level.

  “You weren’t in a hurry, were you?” Goar complained, wiping the bear’s saliva off his gauntlet with a clump of grass.

  I showed him the bloodied Elven dagger by way of answer. “You were the one who bought it!”

  He cussed, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Let’s move it!”

  02 hrs 43 min…

  GRADUALLY, the forest began to change. We left the pine forest behind. Here, trees were shorter; they sank their roots deep into the rocky soil, listing as they reached up, struggling for the light, their crowns intertwined, forming an impenetrable canopy.

  Soon we left them behind too and started climbing up a mountain slope. I got the impression that Goar had a certain place in mind where to take me.

  Finally, I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. “Where are we going?”

  Just as he turned to reply, a silent shadow leapt off a rocky ledge right on top of him.

  Whack! Goar tumbled down the slope. The mountain lion kicked off him and went for me. He’d missed me by a hair’s breadth but even so his claws grazed my chest, sending me sprawling onto my back.

  Damage taken: 68 [75/143]

  His sharp claws ripped easily through my leather armor, slicing through the muscle. A bout of agonizing pain surged over me; I squirmed on the ground, unable to move a finger.

  Gosh it hurt!

  Which felt wrong. Very wrong. During my recent undead stint, I’d gotten used to the fact that I couldn’t sense pain, as if I’d been given a bumper injection of painkillers. There were very few attacks that had managed to reach my pain threshold. And this felt like I’d been slashed with a knife in real life.

  I hadn’t agreed to this!

  The lion attacked again, but I’d already recovered from the shock and stealthed up, hiding from him in the shadows.

  As if that was gonna help! The beast could smell my blood and had no intention of letting go of his prey. I barely avoided a couple of well-aimed strikes of his paws when Goar’s sword came crashing down onto the monster’s back. Furious at his own fall, Goar cleft his spine in one powerful swing.

  “Whatcha starin’ at? Finish him off!”

  I didn’t have to be asked twice, attacking him without even unstealthing.

  Die, you bastard!

  And die he did, bringing me another level. To tell you the truth, by then the prospects of rushed leveling had already ceased to please me. Goar had taken me out into the sticks where a level 14 rogue was just no match for the local dwellers. They’d gobble me up, leather armor and all, and wouldn’t even notice. They might actually ask for a second helping.

  “Goar,” I began cautiously, “Are you sure we shouldn’t be practicing on easier targets?”

  “I didn’t sign up to mollycoddle you,” the orc snapped. “If it’s not to your liking — great, let’s part ways, no problem!”

  “Oh give it a break,” I asked him, gingerly trying to move my shoulders and wincing with the sharp pain in my chest.

  Never mind. It would heal. It was a good thing I hadn’t gotten any serious injuries. Then I would have known all about it.

  Goar headed off along a trail threading between the cliffs. I was forced to follow. By now there’d been no doubt left in my mind that he had a particular destination in mind. I really should have stayed on my guard but after some deliberation, I decided against it. All I did, I opened the system menu and made sure that my respawn point was still set up by the Tower of Power of the little town we’d just left. That done, I followed Goar with an easy heart.

  The trail meandered amid clifftops, tracing their precipitous sides, descending into tiny valleys, then climbing back up the steep slopes. At some points, we had to leap across abysses; other times, we used the air bridges suspended above them. Some of the mountain monsters tried to aggro us but Goar didn’t seem to be interested: he’d picked up a good pace so I had to really trot after him.

  Because if I lagged behind, that would be the end of me. The local mountain mobs seemed way too strong for the humble me. So I gave it my all and legged it.

  The only time we had to pause was when we’d reached a small platform ending in the black mouth of a cave. Upon reaching it, Goar pressed his back to the cliff and spent some time peering into the darkness. Finally, he sniffed the air several times with his big flat nose.

  “Keep up!” he said as he drew his terrible sword from behind his back. Slowly he approached the entrance to the dungeon.

  For a level-80 Paladin he struck me as overly cautious. A shiver ran down my spine. Even though Neo’s amulet had already restored the dent in my health made by the mountain lion, I wasn’t in the mood to tempt providence.

  Stealth mode: Activated

  Having stealthed up, I hurried after Goar, wondering what could have scared him so much. No, scared was the wrong word: the orc wasn’t the fearful type and this was only a game, after all. But I was curious what could have set his alarm bells ringing, making him get ready to fight.

  The answer wasn’t long in coming. I heard a nasty screechy sound and saw Goar’s leg sink knee deep between two slabs of stone which had parted, then closed again.

  A trap!

  “Shit!” he barked, forgetting all about keeping a low profile. He slid his sword’s blade between the rocks and tried to prize them apart. “John, for cryin’ out loud! I thought you were a rogue! Couldn’t you see the trap?”

  “Could I really?” I snickered. “My Insight isn’t high enough. And I don’t have any special skills yet, either.”

  That was true; my 11 pt. Perception didn’t offer any decent bonuses to Insight; as for new skill points, I’d invested them all into Stealth. So far, I hadn’t even improved Dodge, not to mention Pickpocketing, Lockpicking, Detection of Traps, Deactivation of Traps and other undoubtedly useful skills which, however, weren’t top priority.

  A shadow flitted across the rocks. The air around us stirred. I noticed a barely perceptible movement, followed by the rattling of Goar’s armor which took the brunt of the attack.

  Screeeeeech! A long scratch ran acro
ss the black metal. Goar struggled harder than before, trying to pull his leg out of the trap.

  Screeeeeech! A new scratch ran across the armor on his back. This time I’d managed to glimpse something translucent: a barely perceptible outline.

  “Kill it!” Goar demanded, but I had no intention of leaving my place.

  I didn’t move. I didn’t say a word. I even tried to stop breathing. I was pretty sure that a translucent sword like that could go through my soft little body like a hot knife thought butter.

  And I wasn’t a deadman now. I was perfectly alive. That was gonna hurt. Really hurt. The whole place will be strewn with my guts…

  Screeeeeech! This time our invisible attacker managed to hit a joint in Goar’s armor. The orc convulsed. Dark blood flowed down his black armor.

  “You son of a bitch!” Goar thrust his left hand out and spat out a brief spell.

  The magic of Equilibrium made the air congeal, slowing down our invisible opponent. This time Goar managed to raise his sword just in time. Something translucent hit its sharp edge and, propelled by its own momentum, failed to stop, impaling itself deeper and deeper.

  Its invisibility began to fall apart. The dark clumps of organs appeared first, then the bones. As soon as I could see the taut muscle tissue entwined with tendons, I dashed off and buried my dagger in the back of the creature’s head. It waved its hands — or rather, its wrists which ended in bone swords — and died.

  Critical hit! Damage: 110

  The Borogove has been killed!

  Experience: +850 [4643/5200]

  The level is increased!

  “I can see you've finally woken up!” Goar growled, shaking the lifeless body off his sword.

  By then, it was completely visible: an unsavory sight. The creature’s skin was devoid of any body hair; his eyeless face had two slots for nostrils and a tooth-baring mouth.

  “What kind of abomination is this?” I asked, refusing to believe my eyes.

  Goar replied with a complex combo of cuss words, then raised his hands in the air. A barely visible shimmering veil enveloped him. He then tried once again to prize the stone blocks apart with his sword, leaning all of his weight against it. This time the rocks parted, releasing his foot. Still, it hadn’t been completely without consequences for him: I could see that he was limping noticeably when he headed for the cave.

  “Follow me!” he snapped at me.

  I hurried after him, promptly updating my stats as I ran. I brought Stealth to 15 and added a few points to Perception, ignoring Agility entirely. Having to fight invisible Borogoves has this effect on you.

  Still, until now everything seemed to go hunky dory. Had we stayed in the woods, I wouldn’t have made nearly as much XP on just wolves and foxes. In this respect, I found Goar’s unexplained haste quite convenient,. I’d thought it might have taken me much longer. Having said that, the first few levels are the easiest: this was a standard gaming tactic aimed at luring new players in.

  The cave was dark and seemingly deserted. We spent some time weaving our way past all the stalactites and stalagmites until we came to the black drop of a stairwell.

  “Wow,” I said. “Where the hell are we?”

  Goar grabbed me by the neck and pulled me close. “Now listen,” he hissed, baring his teeth. “The place below is taken by some kobolds. A whole flippin’ tribe of ‘em! Smoking them is such an easy job it makes me wanna cry. Still, if they’re alarmed, they might demolish the timber supports and block the tunnels with rocks. So I want you,” he poked me hard in the chest, “I want you to go down now and take out their sentry. And if you screw it up, I’ll wring this neck of yours, provided those furry snots don’t get to you before I do!”

  I wriggled myself from his clutches. “Where are we going?”

  “Forward!” he growled. “We keep going forward!”

  “Oh p-lease,” I rolled my eyes but chose not to press the subject. So I headed for the stairs, not forgetting to activate stealth mode first.

  I’d already come across kobolds in my previous undead life, and I can’t say I’d enjoyed it. Those ugly tunnel dwellers might not boast sharp eyesight but they had excellent hearing and could smell an enemy from miles away. No amount of stealth could fool them. Not completely, anyway. At least I didn’t stink of decay; I just had to make sure I didn’t make too much noise.

  Slowly and warily I walked down the stairs to the next level and froze, waiting for my eyesight to adapt to the light of a torch burning several paces away. Strangely enough, the dull light still hurt my eyes. It must have been a side effect of the spell that Goar had cast on me.

  My cautiousness had paid off. I might have noticed the sentry almost straight away, but it took me some time to blink the tears out of my eyes and finally see the line strung just over the floor.

  Clever bastards.

  I carefully stepped over it and headed toward a small niche with a huge copper gong in it. Next to it, the kobold sentry was yawning his head off: a squat ugly thing with a grayish green head, a big nose and lug ears. Dressed in leather armor, he stood just next to a massive stone hammer.

  As soon as he hit the gong with it, these tunnels would fill with a never-ending echo. Not good.

  Trying to move as soundlessly as I could, I crept toward the niche and stood motionless, not daring attack him. His partner was snoring away on a bench nearby. If I made a noise, he was sure to raise the alarm.

  Luckily for me, the goblin on duty began gnawing a bone which looked suspiciously like a human one. I used the chance to steal behind his back. The guard stopped chewing and drew the air in noisily through his nose. His ears twitched.

  That was all he’d had time to do. I covered his jaws with my left hand while slicing his throat with my dagger, then buried it into his solar plexus. The Elven steel pierced his leather armor with ease, going through his puny body like a hot knife through butter.

  The kobold twitched and went limp in my arms.

  Critical hit!

  The Kobold Sentry has been killed!

  Experience: +75 [4 718/5 200]

  A sharp pain pierced my hand. Somehow I managed to refrain from screaming.

  A new message popped up:

  Damage taken: 11 [105/143]

  Blood Poisoning!

  Before kicking the bucket, the kobold had convulsed, sinking his teeth through my gauntlet deep into my hand.

  “Ah,” I gasped.

  I took a few deep breaths before approaching the bench on which the other kobold was still sleeping. Keeping this stupid wound in mind, I didn’t cover his mouth with my hand but covered his face with some rags, then buried my dagger in his chest — exactly where my improved Insight had discerned his most vulnerable spot. The kobold shuddered, waving his convulsing limbs in the air, then died.

  I heaved a sigh of relief and turned my attention to my bitten hand. It was already slightly swollen; I has trouble moving my fingers.

  Blood Poisoning!

  Your wound has been infected, triggering an inflammatory process. In order to be healed, you need professional help.

  Penalty to your hand’s strength and dexterity: 10%, with an additional 1% every hour.

  Main damage: 5 pt. per hour

  Additional damage from bleeding: 3 pt. per hour

  Bastards! I pulled off the gauntlet, rummaged through the heap for a rag that looked relatively clean and used it to bandage my hand. Not that it changed a lot:

  Bandage!

  You’ve stopped the damage caused by bleeding.

  Was that it? Shit! Now I’d have to shell out for a healer’s services. It was a good job no tendons had been damaged, otherwise I’d have had a real problem on my hands.

  Thinking about a healer’s fees made me remember the loot. I frisked the corpses. One had three coins on him, the other, five. Not much.

  I didn’t bother with a full-body search and hurried back to the stairs. I stood by the lower step and called Goar,

  “Pssst!”


  He was down in a split second. “What took you so long?”

  Ignoring his question, I pointed at the piece of string over the floor. “Make sure you don’t touch it.”

  He nodded. “You go first.”

  It was wise, so I didn’t argue. We left the niche and the two bodies behind and headed down the corridor. It went on for a while until finally it began to fork; I could make out the knocking of blacksmiths’ hammers in torchlight and the whiff of a burned meal, but mainly the side tunnels were quiet and dark.