She followed in Harald’s wake, striking down any dark elves unfortunate enough to have dodged his blows. They vanished as if they’d never even existed, erased from the server by her black arrows.
Clara had her own bow out. While her arrows weren’t hacked like Sam’s, Clara had the advantage of having specialized in the weapon. Every shot she made struck a vital target. Her attacks were almost as deadly as Sam’s.
Benson and Grimalf strode in the rear, bashing aside the flow of attackers trying to swarm into the gap the party left behind them.
But Jorge! Where was he? Sam glanced about, unsure. Had he fallen back on the hill? If he was alive, they had to go back for him.
Then Gurgle soared by overhead, Jorge clinging to his neck as he breathed death down on the armies. Leave it to her friend to make sure everyone was accounted for before he took to the air. Sam smiled. Jorge was safer than the rest of them.
Then they were through the line. A few dokkalfar tried to follow, but Grimalf and Benson quickly dissuaded them. The rest went back to fighting the other non-player army, a scripted battle that would continue forever, both sides locked into a fight they could never win.
What if some of them were like Gurgle, though? What if they had some basic level of awareness which could be pushed into a spark of something more? Gurgle was far smarter than he should have been, given the basic non-player-character code for Valhalla Online. Her interactions with him had forced the game to pour more resources into Gurgle until speaking with him was almost like talking to any other player.
In truth, he was more like Heid than he was like the regular NPCs. Was he a true AI, like her? Or was he becoming one?
15
When they were on the bank of the river and well clear of the skirmish, Sam called a halt. Everyone in the party was exhausted from the battle and then their flight. The last thing they needed was to blunder into more danger without adequate time to rest and prepare themselves.
The river’s course seemed to wind forever in each direction. It flowed fast, dark, and deep, like a mystery. As Sam looked into its depths she thought she saw things moving there, but she couldn’t be sure, and then the visions were gone again. She shook her head to clear it. Staying wary was a good idea in this place, but she didn’t need to be jumping at shadows.
“Gurgle, I want you to scout ahead downstream,” Sam said. “See where the river leads. We’ll follow along behind you. Report back when you see anything different.”
“Gurgle do,” the dragon said. He flapped his wings, leaping into the air once more. A few moments later and Gurgle was gliding high above them, soaring over the river.
“Why downstream?” Jorge asked.
Sam grinned. “I got some intelligence out of a dark elf before we went off on this little venture. Find the river and go downstream, and we’ll reach Helheim.”
Jorge looked unconvinced. “How are you sure he was telling you the truth?”
“I threatened him with one of these,” Sam said, patting her pouch of arrows.
Of course, it was still possible that Inglalf lied to her just to get away. But Sam didn’t think so. Her skill at reading people told her the dark elf hadn’t been lying. Besides, if he was right about Hel wanting to see Sam, then he wouldn’t have to lie. His AI goddess was waiting for them. Sam grimaced. It wasn’t a good thing, for Hel to have that sort of confidence. She’d need to find a way to turn that against the AI.
Her explanation seemed to be enough for Jorge and the others, anyway. He nodded to her and went about the business of healing the small wounds the party had sustained while everyone checked their gear to be sure everything was in peak condition.
Overhead the sky seemed like an empty black slate. There were no stars, and it almost looked like the ceiling of a massive cavern was up there in the darkness, hidden from view by shadows. But if that was the case, it was just far enough out of sight that Sam couldn’t catch a glimpse.
The light in this place was strange as well. It didn’t come from the sun, moon, and stars like in other realms. There was light, but it didn’t seem to emanate from anything. It was ambient, like the dim lighting was a part of the place rather than cast by any particular source.
All told, Nifleheim was damned uncomfortable. Which was as it ought to be, Sam figured. If the developers of Valhalla Online were trying to recreate the old Norse version of a bad afterlife, then they’d done a fair to middling job. She couldn’t imagine anyone enjoying their time in this place.
The rush of water along the riverway raised in pitch as the party progressed. Soon Sam could hear a distant roar from somewhere ahead. Something was changing, and she wanted more intel about what they were facing.
“Hold up a moment. I’m going to signal Gurgle to return and report,” Sam said. Then she fired a bolt of flame into the sky. It rocketed toward the shadows above like a flare and then vanished.
Sam shivered. It should have kept going until it impacted something. Just what was up there in the dark place she couldn’t see?
Gurgle swooped back toward them and settled in for a landing. Sam could see from his face that he was excited about something.
“Gurgle found Hel’s castle!”
“You did? Where?” Sam asked.
“Up ahead. Past waterfall. Also past marsh,” Gurgle said. He looked thoughtful a moment. “Long walk, still. Short fly.”
So the roar she heard was a waterfall after all. Sam shrugged off the news. It wasn’t like they were going to be trapped at the top of a cliff, not with a dragon to help them to the bottom. The marsh Gurgle mentioned might be more trouble than the waterfall. But the castle itself was what really concerned Sam.
“Did you see the defenses at the castle?” Harald asked, apparently thinking along the same lines.
“Many dark elves,” Gurgle said, nodding.
“How many?” Sam prodded.
“Too many for claws,” Gurgle replied in a mournful tone.
Sam had to chuckle at that. More than twenty, then? Probably a lot more, if the force they’d seen earlier was any indication of Hel’s troop strength. Well, they’d have to deal with that problem when they got there.
“Gurgle also saw battle. Two sides still fighting, but getting closer to here,” the dragon said.
“All the more reason to move faster. We don’t want to get caught up in their skirmish again. Let’s get a move on to the waterfall, and then we’ll see about tackling whatever comes next,” Sam said.
It only took another ten minutes to march the distance to the cliff face. Water tumbled down a good fifty feet to crash into a deep pool at the bottom. But from there the water stopped flowing in a riverbed, spreading out instead to cover the land with a thin sheet of liquid as far as Sam could see. Twisted trees rose out of the muck, but none of them bore any leaves. Everything in this place was lifeless.
Or so it seemed. Sam knew better than to be sure of that. Hel would likely have guardians set around her fortress. The swamp would have its own set of dangers.
Off to the left the ground sloped down, changing from a cliff into a steep hillside. “We’ll go that way,” Sam said. It would keep them from having to split up for even the short time it would take Gurgle to bring down the second half of their team. This wasn’t the sort of place Sam wanted to see her small force divided.
“That takes us half an hour out of our way,” Harald protested. “We should just go straight down.”
“Two trips for Gurgle to carry us all there. What if something happens to one group while we’re divided?” Sam asked.
“Waste of time, I’m telling you. Watch,” Harald said.
Then he stepped up to the edge of the cliff and jumped over the side.
16
Harald’s rocky form sailed over the edge and out of sight before Sam could say a word to stop him. He was gone. She expected to hear a crashing noise as he broke to bits against the cliff face, and rushed to see what had happened to him.
There was no sign of
him either on the rock face in the waters below. He’d vanished entirely, although Sam could see ripples from the splash he’d made when he hit the water. At least he’d cleared the rock.
“He’d better of survived the fall so I can kill him,” she growled.
“Even if he die, he come back,” Gurgle pointed out. “You can kill him then.”
“True, that. All right, Gurgle. Let’s ferry the rest of us down there. You can take us all in a single load, right?” Sam asked.
The dragon nodded in reply. It took a few minutes to get everyone settled onto his back, but they’d done it for the trip to Vanaheim so they knew how. Once all were aboard the dragon launched himself from the cliff and glided toward the swampy ground below.
“Gurgle not sure where to land,” he said.
That was understandable. Sam was having a difficult time spotting anything that resembled solid ground down there. At least a thin coating of water covered almost everything. Only small mounds of mud rose above the pools, and most of those had trees growing out of them. The trees gave her an idea.
“Gurgle, see that big tree? Knock it over,” Sam said.
Gurgle spun on a wing, sending the ground twirling past at a dizzying speed. Then he stooped and clutched the tree in his claws. There was a rough, jarring sensation as he wrestled briefly with the thing’s roots, but they were in mud, not good soil. The tree came free, and Gurgle let it drop back down with a splash.
“Good. Now, can you land on the tree?” Sam asked.
“Gurgle try.” He sounded dubious but started into a slow dive before Sam could open her mouth to say anything else. She clung to the dragon’s back, hoping her idea would work.
And it did — almost. Gurgle landed on the tree, all four clawed feet gouging at the trunk for purchase. It was slippery, covered with slime and half rotten. Sam felt Gurgle losing his grip a moment before he pitched over sideways.
“Jump!” Sam shouted.
Following her own advice, she rolled free from Gurgle’s neck, pushing off as hard as she could to get clear. If the dragon rolled over any of them, they could be crushed. She flew a few feet through the air and landed in the muck on her hands and knees with a splash. Almost immediately she sank several inches into the mire.
“Crap. This stinks!” Clara said. Sam looked over. Her friend was almost waist deep in the slime, her arms up above her head.
“Not my best idea, guys. Sorry,” Sam said. “You OK, Gurgle?”
The dragon had managed to stop his movement before he rolled, saving the team. But now he was stuck half in the mud and half clutching the tree trunk. He looked for all the world like a picture of a kitten dangling from a tree branch Sam had once seen. The poster had the words ‘hang in there’ plastered beneath the kitten. Gurgle clung to the tree with the same ferocious tenacity, and Sam had to stifle a laugh.
“Gurgle OK.”
“I’m fine too, except for the stink,” Grimalf said. He pushed himself mostly free of the mud, then promptly sank back to knee depth again. “I don’t think we’re going to get very far through this mess, though.”
“There has to be another way in,” Sam said. “The dokkalfar have to move back and forth, right? So there should be a path that works.”
“We could always ask them,” Jorge said. “I don’t know how compliant they’d be, though.”
“No, I don’t think that’s going to work,” Sam chuckled. “I do have an idea, though.”
“That sounds dangerous,” Jorge said.
“Enough, you! I’m going to give this a shot near me, first. In case it doesn’t work, I don’t want to hurt any of you,” Sam said.
She had access to several types of magic. Although she preferred to use her fire magic for attacks, Sam also knew how to cast cold spells, and that seemed like it might be a lot more useful just then. If she could freeze the muck around her, maybe she could climb up on top of it and walk around.
The main problem was that her hands and legs were stuck in the mud. It was now up to her chest, and Sam could feel chilly water seeping through her armor. She’d fallen face-first and thrown her hands out in front of herself instinctively, but now there was enough of her body below the mud that this was going to hurt.
Sam summoned magic to her hands, calling on the power of the Is rune - the rune for ice. She cast the smallest, weakest cold spell in her arsenal. Instantly freezing force spread out from her palms into the mud around her. It froze solid. The stuff was mostly ice, now, with a consistency like half-dried clay. It was freezing on her arms. She watched her health bar begin dropping from continued contact with the ice.
But at least she had something to push against! Sam shoved hard and was able to hoist her arms up out of the mud. As she shifted her weight back to her legs, her knees sank a little more. But that was all right. Sam knew she could free herself, now. The rest was just doing it.
“What did you do?” Grimalf asked, his eyes curious.
“Ice spell. Froze the mud,” Sam said. She slapped her chilled arms to get circulation back into them.
“Didn’t that hurt?” Grimalf asked.
“Yes. A lot. You want to be next?” Sam asked.
Grimalf frowned, but to her surprise he nodded. “I’m ready for it. Better do it before I sink any deeper, though. It’s above my knees already. The last thing I need is to have you freeze my...well, you know what I mean.”
Sam chuckled. “Yes, I do. All right, brace yourself.”
She cast the spell again, freezing the muck trapping his legs and a bit of the mud's surface around them.
“Gods, that’s cold!” Grimalf said as he forced his legs free. “But I’m out. My thanks.”
“No problem. Gurgle - can you breathe on the far side of the tree? That should freeze an area large enough for you to stand. Then maybe you can help the rest of us get out of here,” Sam asked.
Gurgle’s breath was much more effective than her small spells. Soon he had a large, frozen pond in place. Between Sam and Gurgle the party managed to free the rest of them. Everyone was there except Harald. Sam peered down into the muck at the base of the cliff. Was he still alive under there? Could he drown? If he didn’t die from the fall or drowning, how long would he be stuck down there, unable to get out or spawn again?
“Worried about Harald?” Jorge’s soft voice surprised her.
“Yes. It was stupid, what he did. He’s not usually so reckless.”
“He’s more than a little out of sorts, for excellent reasons,” Jorge replied.
“Yes. I know,” Sam said.
She understood why Harald was reacting as he was. That didn’t make it better. Their fighting force was small enough that they all needed to be able to rely on each other. One loose cannon could get them all killed and ruin the mission. That Harald had only trapped himself instead of everyone was a stroke of luck. Maybe they were better off without him for the rest of this quest.
But then again, Sam remembered what Heid had told her about the dagger and its ability. It was as deadly a weapon as her arrows. Only Harald was impervious to it, thanks to his amulet. Without him each of them was vulnerable. They still had the arrows, but they’d lost their shield.
Ripples moved near the cliff edge. Sam watched, wary. That was close to where Harald had fallen in. Could it be him? Or was it another threat? Her fingers went to the pouch containing her arrows, just in case.
A rocky hand thrust free from the mud, clawing against the cliff face. Harald’s fingers gouged a divot into the stone, breaking enough loose to give him a handhold. Then his other hand thrust free, and slowly he eased himself out of the mud.
Sam wasn’t sure if she was more angry or relieved to see him all right.
“Oops,” Harald said, flashing a smile across the way to the rest of them.
“You’re in a shit-load of trouble,” Sam snapped back.
Harald looked down at the mud beneath him. “Maybe I should have stayed down there…”
17
There seemed little point in attempting to struggle their way through the marsh. Even Gurgle’s icy breath had limits. He couldn’t freeze a path all the way to the castle. They had to find another way through.
Instead, Sam had Gurgle lift first Harald and then the rest of the team back to the top of the cliff. It took a few trips because he had to be more cautious than usual to land on the slippery ice. By the time the last of them were airborne, Sam had to refreeze the surface almost constantly to keep it firm enough that Gurgle could land at all.
At last they were all topside again. Sam heaved a massive sigh of relief and wandered down toward the water’s edge. Clara saw her intention and followed close behind.
“Where are you going?” Harald asked.
“To wash in the river. Which is where you’ll go, if you don’t want me to burn the mud off you instead,” Sam snapped.
She was still angry with Harald. True, none of them were really hurt by the experience. But they were all right back where they’d been when he jumped off the cliff, and they’d lost precious time getting back there.
“Gurgle, wash and then go scout the slope. See if there’s anything that looks like a path to the castle down there,” Sam said.
“OK,” Gurgle replied. He took off, spattering flecks of mud in all directions, and sped upstream a bit. Then he dove into the river. He erupted from the water again a few moments later, his scales no longer muddy brown.
Well, if he’d gotten in and out, the water couldn’t be that bad, Sam figured. She leaned in toward the edge and cupped her hands, scooping some up. It was icy cold. Her hands went numb just from touching it. She dropped the liquid and pulled her hands back, sticking them under her armpits for warmth.
“Shit, that’s cold!” Clara said. She’d made the same discovery as Sam.
“Sorry, was going to warn you. I can maybe warm some of it with fire magic, but the current will just wash away whatever warmth I create,” Sam replied.
Valhalla Online 4: Hel Hath No Fury: A Ragnarok Saga LitRPG Story Page 7