by C. M. Carney
I took a moment to activate my Racial Gift, Ordonian Bloodlust. I felt a boiling rage churn through me and I felt vibrant and alive and powerful, and dumber.
She pumped green energy into her boots and leapt over the table. I swung my hammer in a wide arc. There was no way I could miss. But guess what, I did. She activated Avoidance again and with the slightest of toe taps on the table’s surface she flipped up and over me.
My swing took me off balance and I stumbled forward. She lashed out with one of her swords and I felt the razor-sharp blade slice through the Achilles tendon of my left leg. I fell to the ground, barely keeping my hands on my hammer. I hobbled back to my feet, and the Agent danced out of the range of another clumsy swing. This time she didn’t use Avoidance. She didn’t need to.
I stood and felt the warm glow of the Priest’s healing spell knit my tendon and muscle and the pain eased. Thank you Percinius. I stood and pressed my attack, swinging my hammer. She used Avoidance again and side stepped my blow. She spun and brought her sword low for another attack against my legs, but this time I used Avoidance.
The look in her eyes as I sidestepped her attack was like a gift from the gods. I brought the shaft of my hammer up and into her face, earning a wondrous crack from her nose. She stumbled back, the shock stunning her mind clear on her face.
So, you may be wondering what my False Weakness was? It was kinda genius if I do say so. Like any good lie, it held an element of truth. When she’d Analyzed me she learned that I had no access to my Spirit energy, since I had ‘betrayed my god.’ In my mind it was the other way around. That dick had up and died on me. Regardless she was wrong. I had so much Spirit that a high school cheer squad at the state championship would seem tame in comparison, and the Agent was about to get a face full of that Spirit.
I dumped as much Spirit into my hammer as I could and eyeballed her. This part of the plan was tricky and required perfect timing. I gave Grimslee the predetermined signal, and the crossbow twanged. As I’d hoped the Agent used Avoidance stepping forward as the speeding bolt zipped behind her.
I swung my hammer in a ferocious upwards arc and activated Crushing Blow 1. The hammer impacted her chin just as the bolt thunked into the wall a few feet behind her.
I felt the bones of her face crumple and she would have screamed if my hammer hadn't shattered her jaw. She flew backwards, landing on the table where Gaarm and I had played so many pleasant games. Cards and coins scattered and a couple of lovely, lovely prompts popped into my mind.
You have achieved a Critical Hit against the Agent.
Damage: (41 Base + 24 Spirit) x 5 Critical Hit Bonus = 325
You have achieved a Crushing Blow 1 against the Agent.
Crushing Blows are dealt by Blunt Weapons and result in concussion like symptoms.
-5 to Dexterity, Intelligence and Wisdom for 30 seconds.
-25% chance To Hit for 20 seconds.
Victim cannot activate Perks of any kind for 10 seconds.
I couldn't load my hammer with Spirit for the next 11 seconds, so I just smashed, smashed the old-fashioned way. I brought my hammer down again and again. Each time the Agent partially blocked my attacks, but the damage was adding up.
The Agent stood and stumbled backwards. I had to give her credit. She was tough as nails. Her face was a bloody wreck and her eyes, once filled with amused certainty, now held a fierce anger. She jumped at me with incredible speed and sunk both of her sword tips into my shoulders. They weren’t fatal blows, and weren’t meant to be, but they forced me to drop my hammer. She twisted the swords and agony surged through me as the blades dug deeper into my shoulders.
I laughed through the pain, which trust me is difficult to do, and said a single word. Unfortunately the sound was a mere croak in my throat. This confused the hell out of her and she leaned in close attempting to hear what I’d said.
“I said, Seraphine.” And I laughed again.
Perhaps it was the unexpected nature of the attack, or the debuffs she suffered that made her dumb, or her Stamina was so low that she couldn’t activate Avoidance, but she didn’t sense the wily barmaid assassin appear behind her until the dagger punctured up and into her side.
“Hey sweetie,” Seraphine whispered as the blade sunk home. “You should be nicer to my man.” Seraphine winked at me.
The Agent’s look of shock quickly turned to agony as the acidic poison Bane of Life shredded her body. I knew what that poison felt like, so I almost felt sympathy for her. But, that feeling quickly faded. This bitch had put me through the hell of a thousand deaths. It was high time I returned the favor.
I kicked her to the ground and Seraphine pulled one, then the other sword from my shoulders. Then Percinius was there, healing me. I stared down on the Agent as her body spasmed in pain. I could see black lesions form and spread across her skin as the poison ate away at her flesh.
“Why does Aluran want to find Gryph?” I asked. She either didn’t hear me or was ignoring me, so I tapped her none too lightly with my hammer. “Hey, what does Aluran want with Gryph?”
Amazingly, she laughed. “Your buddy, your pal, your Gryph is the key to everything,” she said coughing up blood and black acidic gore. “And you’re going to help us find him.” More coughs and spasms wracked her body.
“You’re pretty confident for someone about to die.”
She laughed again and then she began glowing. It started low, like the dim illumination of a kid reading under the covers with a flashlight, but it quickly flared to a blinding brightness, more potent than a noonday sun. I squinted against the light and heard her speak. “My High God Aluran grant me your Boon.” The light exploded, and a wall of force pummeled into me. I stumbled and fell.
Falling onto my ass was becoming a too frequent habit. I blinked, trying to clear my eyes. I couldn't make out anything except one blob swung at another blob. Something rolled towards me and bounced between my legs. I scrunched my eyes shut and after another moment they cleared enough for me to see the Agent standing, fully healed, both swords held point down. At her feet lay Seraphine’s decapitated corpse. I looked down to see Seraphine’s head resting in my crotch. I screamed and crawled backward.
“Nice try kiddo, but there is no stopping me. I do as the High God wills.” Then she walked towards me. My brain must have demanded answers that my conscious mind was too stunned to ask because suddenly I had used Analyze.
The Agent has used the Gift Boon of the High God Aluran.
Cost: 1,000 Spirit.
All Debuffs instantly neutralized. All wounds instantly healed. All Stats refilled. +25% to Health, Stamina, Mana and Spirit regeneration for one day.
This is a single use Boon.
“Crap,” I said as she came at me. I stood and tried to run, but she was on me in seconds. She punched me in the face with the pommel of her sword and I blacked out.
I came to a bit later, arms tied behind my back. I was swaying back and forth and my stomach felt queasy. Am I on a boat? I thought and quickly felt dumb as Lurch tossed me over his shoulder. We were getting close to the bridge. “Hey,” I croaked through a parched throat.
“Stop, get him on his feet,” I heard the Agent say, and Lurch tossed me off his shoulder and onto the dusty ground. I grunted in pain. “I said get him on his feet, not throw him on the ground. Do not damage the merchandise.”
I felt rough hands pull me to my feet and then spin me towards the Agent. She walked up to me, all smiles and grins. “That was a lot more exciting than I expected, well done.”
“Um, thanks,” I said, depression pumping into me. I had given it my all, and I was still in the same damn place I’d been so many other times. I was sick of dying. I was sick of living an endless loop. I was sick of all of it.
☠☠☠☠☠
11
I set my empty mug down onto the table with a hollow thunk, releasing a completely expected spark of energy. This time I didn’t jump. Gaarm still grinned though and then he sucked at some bit of f
ood in his rancid teeth, all the while staring directly at me. He pushed his pile of coins forward. “I’m all in,” he said.
I sat in silence, staring down at the card in front of me, and I heard both the dealer and Gaarm complain about my inaction, but I didn’t care. “I’m never gonna win,” I said and tossed the card face up on the pile. Oohs and ahs filled the room and I heard Gaarm’s chair scrape as he launched himself to his feet.
“I fold,” I said and walked towards the front door, my head hung low. I bumped into Seraphine, sloshing her tray of mugs. She looked at me, first with anger, then with a look that almost seemed genuine concern.
“You okay hun?”
I mumbled something like an apology and tugged at my beard. Then I opened the door and walked into the cool evening. For the first time I really looked at the town of Harlan’s Watch. It was pleasant and quaint and the residents seemed like decent enough folks. Ya know except for the murderers, rapists, mob bosses, pyromaniacs, assassins, religious zealots and livestock molesters. They were just people going about their lives with no idea of the violence that had occurred over and over in their midst.
I wanted nothing to do with any of it. I’d lived this day so many times I’d lost count. I’d died so many times and killed so many people in so many ways that I could not be sure I hadn’t lost my mind. Maybe I’d wake up under the table in Master Grimslee’s inn and learn it had all been a mead-fueled dream. I doubted it, but it was possible. Ultimately it didn’t matter, cuz I was tired and I couldn't do it anymore. It was time to surrender. I found the Agent and told her I’d go without a fuss.
“I’ll go peacefully this time,” I said. She gave me an odd look. “Oh yeah, for you this is the first time.” She cocked her head in suspicion and then nodded at Lurch. They tied my hands and led me over the bridge.
“I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry Gryph,” I said, looking skyward as if expecting a benevolent face of my missing Player to form in the clouds and look down upon me with forgiveness.
“So, his name is Gryph? We didn’t know that.”
Shit, my stupid big mouth. I felt like the biggest douche at the douchebag convention.
The Agent removed the port stone from a hidden pocket and tossed it up in the air, catching it like it was a mere trinket. “See that hill up ahead?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “It’s where the townsfolk execute folks.”
“Yes,” she said with a grin. “I like people who know their history.”
We started up the incline leading to the hill, and I stopped, realizing that where I now stood was the farthest I’d been since arriving in the Realms. I was leaving my old life behind, like a juvenile delinquent shipped off to military school. With a sigh I stepped forward and into, what I was sure, would be a short, intense life.
We walked up the hill where the remnants of an old gallows poked skyward like the rotten teeth of some long-buried beast. This place had the stink of death, but I barely noticed. The Agent turned and motioned for Lurch to bring me closer. He pushed me well past the boundaries decorum set for personal space and I found myself nose to nose with the short elf woman. She was at least an inch taller than I was.
“This isn’t really doing much for my self-esteem,” I said, indicating the height similarity.
“Cheer up pal, you have no idea how important you are.” She smiled and then leaned forward. I cringed, imagining her taking a bite out of my face, but instead she pecked me lightly on the cheek. “Thank you for making this so easy.”
“Um, sure thing.” I said, shoulders slumping even more.
She took a firm grip of my shoulder. “Close your eyes, porting can sometimes make one a bit queasy.” She looked down on the stone as multi colored lights swirled across its surface. Perhaps it was some last remnant of rebellion inside me, but I refused to shut my eyes.
The world folded in and around itself as light expanded and contracted at the same time. Up became down, left became right and then we shifted. I fell to my knees and everything that had been in my stomach decided it wanted to play the shifting game as well. I bent over and retched for nearly a minute, a thin stream of bile drooling from my mouth.
“Told you,” she said. “It's been grand Lex. Maybe I'll see you around.”
"Wait, what?"
I watched the Agent exit through a door at the back of the room. After a few moments the world stopped spinning, and I stood. I was on a large open-air balcony overlooking a crystal blue ocean. The smell of the sea mingled with the noise of seabirds. I realized I was high above a wondrous city, near the top of a tall tower. The beauty of the place was at odds with how I felt, terrified, angst ridden and guilty.
I was so enamored of the sight before me that I nearly didn’t hear the small pop nor feel the rush of air. A moment later a tall and magnificent man walked up beside me. I would have jumped, had I possessed the energy to do so.
“Hello Lex,” the man said, giving me the winning smile that had won him millions of worshippers. This was Aluran the High God of the Pantheon, and even in the simple robes he wore, he was magnificent.
He had to be six foot five, and possessed a wiry frame laden with muscle, built for both power and speed. After spending two centuries in the Realms, I was sure the man could smite me a dozen ways over without breaking a sweat. Every movement was one of ease, one of power.
Yet, his eyes are what caught my attention. Light blue, almost grey, and possessed a deep intelligence and an odd calm. He looked less despotic conqueror and kinder and wiser religious leader. Somehow that was more terrifying. What’s more, he looked exactly as he had on Earth. He was not hiding in the shadows behind a false face.
I used Analyze.
Analyze has failed.
Expected as much. “Sup Bechard?” I said, wondering where my haughty arrogance had come from. After all, I was taunting a god.
He cocked his head, examining me like a cat that found a rat in the basement. “Interesting,” he said. “You remember your previous self.”
Shit, my damn mouth.
“You're not supposed to, you know that? Banner NPC’s are programmed as trusted companions for their Players, who fully believe they are natives of the Realms.” He stared at me some more and I felt the tingle of Analyze. I hoped my previously set False Reports were still active, and that Aluran wasn't a Grandmaster at the skill. A small scowl crossed his face, but his pleasant smile quickly returned.
“The enigmas grow.”
“I’m special,” I said, again forcing a cocksure attitude I did not feel into my words.
“Yes, apparently you are. But we'll get to that soon.” He turned from the wondrous vista. “Would you care for some refreshment? From what I understand, you’ve had a bit of a rough day.”
I turned to see a table covered in foodstuffs of all kinds, and for the first time in my life my stomach grumbled. I hadn’t eaten since my lunchtime sausage roll unless you counted that prize nugget I’d found in my beard. That meant I hadn’t eaten in what must have amounted to years. “I'm starving,” I said and sat.
Aluran waved a hand and his seat moved back. He sat, and it moved up to the table. A steward approached and poured a small amount of red wine into the High God’s glass. Aluran lifted the glass, swirled the goblet and brought it to his nose. He inhaled, and a satisfied smile turned the corner of his mouth up. Then he took a sip and nodded to the steward who finished the pour. He then came to my side of the table and poured a glass for me.
"You know, this is what I will miss the most about Earth. I’ve had my vintners working on this for nearly five decades.” He took another sip. “It is close, but not quite the same. The wines of Earth cannot be replicated here in the Realms. Something to do with the soil."
“Terroir,” I said and took a sip of my own glass. Now, I know, you’re wondering, how did I know it wasn’t poisoned? Well, I didn’t, but I was pretty sure His Eminence the High Douche didn’t bring me all this way just to kill me. What about truth se
rum buddy? Crap didn’t think of that. But, by this point I no longer cared.
Aluran raised an eyebrow and nodded to me. “You are different.”
“Is that why you brought me here?”
“Perhaps I just wanted the company of someone from the old country.” Aluran said with a grin and took another swig of the wine. He sighed in genuine appreciation. “It is so difficult to find quality dinner guests these days. Everybody is too afraid to offend me.”
“Life is tough when you’re a god.”
“Yes, yes, it is,” Aluran said with a grin. "But forgive me, you aren’t here to listen to me pontificate.”
The steward pulled the lid off the High God’s plate and Aluran grabbed his knife and fork and indicated I should do the same. “Please.” The steward came to my side of the table and lifted mine as well. Beneath was a steak that would make Bobby Flay drool. I picked up my utensils and ate.
The food was amazing, and I said so in the few moments I had between bites. “But, I suspect you did not bring me here just for dinner.”
“No, I am here to help you, or to be accurate I'm here to help Gryph.”
“If you were trying to help, why did you send the Maiden of Death after me?”
“Anveryn can be a bit overzealous, but she is a deeply loyal ally.” Aluran held a bit of rare beef up in front of his face, staring at it as the blood dripped down the tines of his fork. “That is something I believe you know a bit about.”
I must protect Gryph. I really hated that voice in my head. “It’s true, Gryph and I are buds.”
“But, it is more than that, isn’t it?”
I felt his eyes bore into mine as if he were seeing into my soul. Did I even have a soul? Apparently whatever answers he sought, were buried too deep, or simply didn’t exist, because he returned his attention to his meal. Perhaps I was just a machine after all.