Pendrackon

by Aaron Oster

  He wasn’t a moment too soon, as the guards’ torches lit up the area a moment later. There were four of them, all holding small cudgels and swords at their waists. It was relatively bright in the dungeon itself, but the addition of the torches ensured that the guards could see into the cells as they passed.

  The spot Sam and Barry were in didn’t contain any cells, the cages themselves starting some twenty feet to either side, so it was pretty dark. He watched the guards pass, letting out a relieved sigh as soon as they were out of his sight. It seemed like he’d escaped notice.

  He heard a light cracking sound and turned to see Barry munching on a peanut.

  “Is this really the time?” he hissed in a low voice.

  “You’re just jealous you can’t eat anything but stew,” the bird cackled, cracking another shell and eating its contents.

  Then, the idiot bird dropped the shells down to the ramp below, where anyone passing would undoubtedly step on them.

  “What are you doing?!”

  “Eating peanuts,” the bird replied, pulling another one from his storage and very slowly cracking the shell.

  “Are you trying to get us caught?”

  The bird merely cocked his head to one side, dropping the shells to the ground below.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Sam clenched his fists, fighting down the urge to use Mana Bolt and fry this colorful chicken. He needed to be patient and calm. This was a stealth mission, so the sort of noise attacking the bird would make was out of the question. Instead of focusing on the annoying bird, Sam decided instead to check his status.

  CHARACTER STATUS (ABBREVIATED)

  Name: Sam

  Race: Human

  Level: 24

  XP: 92,882/175,000

  AP: 1

  Class: Over-Mage

  HP: 350/350 (Regen 3.5 Per Second)

  MP: 1,160/1,160 (Regen 8.6 Per Second)

  STA: 130/130 (Regen 1.3 Per Second)

  ATTRIBUTES

  Strength: 10

  Constitution: 23 (35)

  Agility: 8

  Endurance: 9 (13)

  Intelligence: 101 (116)

  Wisdom: 72 (86)

  Charisma: 53

  Luck: 16

  His Charisma had gone up as a result of keeping the rule to give charity, but none of the rules since had given him much for keeping them. Today’s rule to ‘take a bath’ had given him exactly squat. He’d gotten a message that cleanliness was its own reward. Instead of stewing on it, Sam instead decided to examine his sub-class more carefully.

  He’d been thinking of ways to develop new abilities since Gordon had told him about them and wanted to give himself a refresher on what Over-Mages did. According to the description, the sub-class was designed for total domination, whatever that meant. It had a wide range of abilities from damage, to debuffs, healing, and even mental manipulation. However, it gave him absolutely no idea as to what type of magic he could use.

  So far, he had shielding, healing, one lightning, and two fire abilities, and a regular mana ability. Then again, his Mana Burn and Mage Bolt weren’t technically anything other than mana abilities either, only mimicking the effects of fire and lighting. While his Over-Burn was a bright orange-red, the Mana Burn was the same blue as his actual mana. The same with the Mage Bolt, while it was blue, regular lightning was white.

  What he had to do now was think of some way to use his abilities and create new ones based on what he knew so far. Over-Mages gained not only Intelligence and Wisdom but also Charisma. He figured that that had something to do with the mental manipulation part, but could he focus on an ability that was Charisma based, instead of Intelligence based?

  Before he could think too much into it, a loud bang echoed from the opposite side of the prison. He sat up, turning in place, and looked down to see what was going on. An alarm sounded moments later, and guards began flocking to that area, as over a dozen prisoners kicked open their cell doors and attacked a passing patrol.

  Emma appeared below, seemingly out of nowhere, followed by Gordon a moment later.

  “The prisoners are rioting. Let’s go,” she called up, not even bothering to speak in an undertone.

  The blaring bells would ensure that no one heard her.

  This time, instead of jumping, Sam used the ladder to climb down.

  “You run into any trouble?” he asked.

  “Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Emma replied with a grin.

  “We have approximately five minutes before the guards subdue the inmates and return them to their cells,” Gordon said. “We best be on our way.”

  Sam nodded, turning and taking off at a light jog to the first set of stairs. After a quick count, he’d found that this dungeon had twenty-two levels before the bottom floor and the Warden’s office, so they had quite a few floors to travel down.

  “Why don’t you free more prisoners while I get a head start?” Sam called over his shoulder. “It’ll give us more time and take up more of the guards’ attention. You’re fast enough to do that and catch up before I reach the bottom.”

  “Good idea,” Emma said. “See you by the Warden’s office.”

  Emma flashed past him, moving so quickly he could barely follow her. Gordon was right on her heels, though Barry remained perched on his shoulder.

  “Let them do all the hard work,” the bird crowed, pulling another peanut from his storage. “In the meantime, I’ll enjoy my free ride and grab a little snack along the way.”

  Though Sam was very tempted, he managed to stop himself from blasting the obnoxious bird. But only just.

  30

  Sam reached the bottom floor of the dungeon, huffing and puffing. His Stamina was only about halfway depleted but the pace he’d set for himself had been nearly neck-breaking, literally. He’d nearly topped over the banister when he’d taken a sharp corner to the next set of stairs when he was still fifteen floors up. It didn’t matter how good his Constitution was, a one-hundred- and fifty-foot fall would definitely have killed him.

  “Good. You’re finally here. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

  “Showoff,” Sam muttered as Emma pushed herself off the wall and fell into step with him.

  The bottom floor of the dungeon was different than the rest. It was open in the middle, and if he looked up, he could see straight to the ceiling. There were cells on this level, though most of them looked to be empty. On the other side of the open floor was the gated-off area they’d spotted from above. Behind the gates stood six guards and a closed steel door.

  “What do you think they’re hiding in there?” Emma asked with a smirk.

  “I don’t know,” Sam sarcastically said. “It’s a total mystery.”

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” rang out a voice from up ahead, echoing through the closed door. “I was wondering who was causing all the ruckus. Now I see it’s just a couple of troublemakers.”

  The guards standing outside the door jumped as it suddenly swung open, and a man dressed all in black swaggered out. A long black sword hung at his waist and a black dog trotted on his heels.

  Sam and the others came to a stop in the center of the room, waiting for the gates to be opened.

  The man strode out confidently, another black hound circling his right, its eyes glowing red and its muzzle bunched up.

  “You know,” Emma said in a carrying voice. “I think he may have overdone it on the black.”

  “What?” Sam asked in mock surprise. “No way! How else would we know he was all evil and stuff if he wasn’t dressed in black from head to toe?”

  The man stumbled to a halt, a look of confusion on his face as Emma and Sam continued to argue.

  “I don’t know, maybe the fact that he’s the one in charge of the dungeon? Or that all the guards are clearly bewitched, while he’s free?”

  “You don’t understand, Emma,” Sam replied in mock exasperation. “Black is the color of all villains. We
ll, that and red. Without it, he wouldn’t be all menacing. Imagine if he had walked out in sparkly sequins and a fluffy tutu. Would you still take him seriously?”

  Emma snorted out a laugh as the man’s face began to grow red.

  “Now listen here…!” he began, but Emma just continued the conversation as though he weren’t even there.

  “You know, I might take him more seriously. He’d definitely leave more of an impression. If he wore that, it would mean he was clearly disturbed mentally, and thus, be unpredictable.”

  Even the dogs looked confused now as Sam and Emma continued to pretend to argue, seemingly ignoring the danger right in front of them.

  “You know what I think we need?” Sam finally said. “A third opinion. So,” he asked, turning to the visibly fuming man. “What’s more intimidating? Black or sequins?”

  “Raaahhh!” roared the man, his body exploding with red and black light as he drew the sword from his waist and brandished it overhead.

  “No fair!” Emma exclaimed. “He’s clearly biased.”

  The man’s teeth ground together as he pointed with his sword and ordered his dogs to attack. However, at that moment, both Gordon and Barry exploded from the man's shadow, tearing into his throat and killing the man on the spot. As he slumped forward, Sam’s staff flashed, and Emma’s sword whistled through the air, easily defeating the two dogs.

  Sam didn’t even bother checking his XP gains as the group of five guards moved to attack then, all yelling battle cries. Seeing as they were all level 8, it was hardly even a challenge.

  “So much for the terrifying More Dread,” Emma said, sheathing her sword and heading toward the now open office.

  “He was more of a pushover than I thought he’d be,” Sam agreed, following after her.

  “Those hounds were quite easy to defeat as well,” Gordon said, pulling a stick from his inventory.

  “Is that new?” Sam asked, noticing the stick was undamaged.

  “Indeed,” Gordon replied proudly. “My old one had simply run its course, as is the fate of all sticks. This stick, while not an ideal replacement, should provide me some enjoyment, at least for a day or two.”

  They entered the office, the sounds of the blaring sirens fading as they closed the door behind them. A small desk and chair sat inside, along with a heavy bunch of keys sitting on a hook. The desk was piled high with papers, and Sam and Emma began rifling through them. It didn’t take them long to find what they were looking for.

  “And, of course, they’re both on this floor,” Emma said with a huff, dropping the parchments containing the names of Gawk Wayne and Percy Valor.

  “Yup. It’s always the tallest tower or deepest dungeon,” Barry said. “Even I could have told you that.”

  Had he not been berating himself for not checking first, Sam might have been tempted to strangle the bird.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he replied, checking the cell numbers. “We probably would have had to kill that idiot Warden either way, so it’s good we got it over and done with. Now, come on. We don’t have much time left before all the prisoners are returned to their cells.”

  They headed out of the room and jogged along the perimeter, checking cell numbers as they went. They finally came to a halt outside cell number 13. Sam had rolled his eyes when he’d seen the number but otherwise hadn’t made any comment. Squinting, he could just make out two figures hunched against the back wall, both clearly asleep despite the commotion.

  “Excuse me,” Sam called out, banging on the bars.

  Both men jumped, one lashing out and punching the wall, while the other ducked, holding his arms above his head.

  “Die!”

  “Don’t attack! I’m innocent!”

  “Calm down!” Emma yelled, cutting through the two very different reactions.

  The two knights turned, one cringing and the other angry.

  “Who are you?”

  “Please don’t hurt us!”

  “Spearlittle sent us here to save you,” Sam said as he went to unlock the cell.

  The two knights shared a look, then both backed up against the wall.

  “You know, I think I’m rather comfortable here,” the angry one said.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll stay here with you.”

  Sam let out a snort. It seemed like Spearlittle wasn’t exactly popular among the Knights of the Oval Cushion, either.

  “Yeah, well, you don’t have a choice. Now let’s go,” Sam said, pulling the cell door open. We killed More Dread, and the guards won’t stay busy for long.”

  The knights shared another look, then both nodded and stepped forward. Sam inspected each of them as they did, to get a better sense of what he was dealing with.

  HUMAN

  Name: Sir Gawk “Temper Tantrum” Wayne

  Gender: Male

  Class: Heavy-Knight-Mace-Warrior

  Level: 45 - HP: 3,430/3,430 - MP: 2,180/2,180 - STA: 5,770/5,770

  Status: Angry

  Greatest Threat: Unknown

  HUMAN

  Name: Sir Percy “Don’t Kill Me” Valor

  Gender: Male

  Class: Fleet-Knight-Spear-Warrior

  Level: 44 - HP: 3,810/3,810 - MP: 3,320/3,320 - STA: 4,200/4,200

  Status: Fearful

  Greatest Threat: Unknown

  Sam didn’t even blink. They were both extremely powerful knights, and their stats varied wildly from one another. For some reason, the idiot Warden had left them with their weapons and armor, all of which was revealed as they left the shadowy recesses of the cell and came out into the open.

  “Why did they leave you your weapons and armor?” Emma asked, seemingly surprised.

  “And why haven’t you tried to escape?” Sam wondered, eyeing the two of them up and down. “The Warden and soldiers here are total weaklings compared to the two of you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Percy asked, looking around fearfully. “More Dread is far more powerful than either of us. We dare not oppose him.”

  Sam and Emma shared a confused look.

  “We literally took him out with almost zero effort,” Sam said, pointing a thumb back over his shoulder.

  “That’s not More Dread,” Gawk said flatly. “That’s his idiot cousin Less Dread. The moron likes to have his own office, and for some reason, More Dread allows it.”

  At that moment, the alarm stopped, and almost oppressive silence fell over the room. Percy’s eyes widened and Gawk’s narrowed as they looked past him.

  “He’s right behind us, isn’t he?” Sam asked with a sigh.

  “Indeed, he is, foolish child,” a deep voice rang out from behind him.

  Sam turned to face the real More Dread and was unsurprised with what he saw. He was a typical scary knight, clad in gleaming black armor, wielding a black sword that was crackling with red light.

  “You know what, Emma, I think you were right about the whole black thing,” Sam said, leveling his staff at the man. “He would have been much more intimidating in sequins.”

  HUMAN

  Name: Warden More Dread

  Gender: Male

  Class: Dark-Knight-Cleave-Warrior

  Level: 50 - HP: 4,600/4,600 - MP: 4,400/3,320 - STA: 2,100/2,100

  Status: Confident

  Greatest Threat: Unknown

  “Well, this makes much more sense,” Emma said as the window vanished.

  “Yup,” Sam replied, feeling his heart begin to race.

  There was no way in hell anyone in his small group could even hope to damage this man. He was so far out of their league that Sam now very much regretted taking on this quest. If Borgana’s second-in-command was level 50, then how powerful would she be?

  “Sir Percy and Sir Gawk, I notice that you are both out of your cells,” More Dread said, his lips turning down in a slight frown and his body blazing with red light. “That will not do.”

  “We’ll just go back in now,” Percy said, already turning to flee.

  �
�I’ve had enough of taking your shit, Dark-Knight. I’ll end you!” Gawk roared, his entire body lighting up as well.

  “Do you really think you can take me, weakling?” More Dread asked, his lips now turning up in a nasty smirk.

  Before he could answer, guards began filing down, all moving to hem them in. Sam’s eyes flicked around, noting that pretty much every exit was blocked off. There were dozens of guards, and several stood out, wearing better equipment or carrying superior weapons. They were outnumbered and outmatched, and more reinforcements would likely be on their way.

  “Any ideas on how we can get out of this?” Sam muttered to Gordon.

  “I am afraid not,” Gordon replied, seemingly at a loss.

  “Come on, think!” he said. “Even though he’s a total dick, the Overlord does play fair, sort of. So, there has to be a way out of here.”

  “On the contrary, my foolish intruder. There is no escape from here. This, here, will be your grave!” intoned More Dread.

  “For fuck’s sake!” Emma replied. “Can you be any more cliché?”

  “I beg your pardon?” More Dread exclaimed, seeming offended.

  “All this ‘you shall die’ and ‘you are doomed’ crap!” Emma huffed. “Don’t you villains have any better lines?”

  Like his cousin, More Dread seemed to be taken aback at her faux annoyance about something so ridiculous or trivial.

  “Well, I suppose…”

  “No! Don’t suppose!” Emma yelled, pointing at him with her sword. “Just come up with something better!”

  Sam gave her an odd look, but Emma just shrugged.

  “If I’m going to die, the last words I hear won’t be some shitty dialogue.”

  “I mean, he could have said something along the lines of ‘you have no hope of survival,’” Sam said, finally understanding what she was going for.