He stood just in time to see a ball of fire heading right for him as the wizard blinked into visibility, standing among the flames and smoke of Roan’s spell. With his hope still pinned on the Ring of Shielding, he could only send an inferno back at the wizard and then cringe.
The ring kept him whole a second time—that was the only good news. The bad was that not only did the Inferno Wand seem to spit out a fiery dud that didn’t hurt Gairafel at all, the wand itself was out of charges. It was now just a stick. Luckily, his sword couldn’t run out of charges. Brandishing it, he ran at the edge and leapt across just as the wizard launched a new spell at him.
A lightning bolt of tremendous proportions arced at him and all he could do was blink as it washed over him, again without hurting him. “Ha!” he cried when he landed and slashed the blade at the wizard. Gairafel wasn’t using a Steelskin spell, but a much weaker armor spell and the sword tore right through it. His second strike also managed to get past the wizard’s defenses and drew blood.
Gairafel cursed and backed up moving his hands rapidly, spitting out words. Roan could only guess what evil was coming next. More fire? Some sort of conjured demon? Would he make a giant hole in space and time beneath him? Roan didn’t think his ring would help in the last case. He pressed his attack, hoping to stay close enough to limit the type of spells the wizard could use.
A second later, when the spell erupted, it did so with a soft sigh and not a catastrophic explosion. There was no flame or pain, there were only a multitude of sparkling lights, hanging in the air.
Don’t look! his mind screamed. Too late. Roan stared at the pretty lights with eyes less animated by intelligence than a cow’s eyes. Slowly his sword arm dropped as did his drooling lower jaw.
The wizard came up close to Roan and leered into his face. “Not so tough now, are you? You stupid thieves are all alike. You never know when to just walk away. You always try for just one more pinch and one more scam. But it always ends the same.”
He finished, punctuating his statement by stabbing Roan in the stomach with a wickedly curved dagger(Damage -15 HP). With his mind numbed, he didn’t feel the pain, but he could feel the blood running down beneath his armor.
As the wizard pulled the dagger out, Roan tried again to force himself to move, to fight back, even just to blink, but to no avail. He was stabbed again, the blade making an ugly sound—it sounded deep, as though the blade had hit something important, a spleen or liver(Damage -13 HP).
It’s just a will power saving throw! he screamed inside his head. You can do it! He tried; he tried with all his power, but ultimately he caved and could not stop his unending and useless staring. Again and again the wizard jabbed the blade into him until a pool of blood surrounded him and his life bar was just a point at the far end of the graph.
His legs gave out and he fell into the blood, and somehow, his eyes remained locked on those terrible, beautiful lights.
Grinning a horrible toad-like grin, the wizard climbed on him, straddling his chest. “Now to crack your head open and see who you are and why you’ve been pestering us.”
Roan expected Gairafel to actually pull out a real hammer and crack his skull open like an egg, but the wizard grabbed Roan’s hand and pulled off his Ring of Shielding. He then spun a spell around Roan and said, “Now, you’ll tell me everything, starting with your name. Your real name.”
Roan fought against this new spell with same lack of effectiveness as he had the last and when that didn’t work, he fought against his own mouth. With all his might he strove to keep his teeth clenched, but once again the spell was too strong and against his will he heard himself say: “Daniel Roan.”
2—
Judging by his blank look, the name meant nothing to the wizard, however to Roan, knowing that there was one of the Infinite Assassins somewhere nearby, saying it aloud felt akin to confessing to murder. It felt utterly wrong. Even the game thought so(XP -10). And things were only going to get worse.
“And who are you with?” the wizard asked. Again, the overpowering desire to spew everything swept him.
At first his answer was only, “Thzzzzzz…” as he fought against the spell. His head whipped from side to side and he tried to clamp the air off in his lungs. There was no way he could say the simple words: The FBI. The obvious follow up question would be: What was the FBI doing in Daggerland?
The wizard was no fool and he was thoroughly evil to boot. He would use the knowledge, not for the greater good, but to further his own personal ambitions, meaning he wouldn’t hesitate to hand Roan over to the assassins.
Roan was a second from divulging everything. He decided he would clock out first, only he didn’t know if that was even an option at the moment. His mind was decidedly not his own. Still, just thinking it brought up the game menu.
Quit Game was the highlighted option. Roan hesitated. It wasn’t just the fact that if he ended the game, he would have to start all over with less than nine days until the appeal. Or the fact that he had done the impossible just to get where he was and now he’d have to do it all over again. No, he hesitated because he was no longer just Special Agent Daniel Roan, of the FBI, he was also Ratchet, a thief of Oberast and a force to be reckoned with.
The game was so realistic that it felt a little like suicide to hit the Quit Game button.
Either way, he had hesitated too long and the words came out. “I…am…with…the…”
The “F” was forming on his lips when the wizard suddenly gasped. His body went stiff and his eyes popped wide. Slowly, he tumbled to the side and when he did, the power of his spells died with him. Roan was suddenly free. Groaning, feeling every stab wound, he struggled into a sitting position, one hand holding his punctured intestines to keep them from spilling out onto the tarred rooftop.
In front of him was a ghost of a man whose form and features were shadowed by a heavy cloak. Roan caught only a glimpse of a grin as the man said, “Didn’t I say you would lose?”
“You might have mentioned something,” Roan allowed, as he tried to stand. The shadowed man stopped him with a bloody sword, the point of which came to rest just under Roan’s chin.
“Not so fast, friend. I think we need to have a little talk. You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to find the Infinite Assassins. You’ve made a big splash to get noticed and now that you have, please tell me why I should consider letting you join us?”
Despite the sword and the pain from his many wounds, Roan grinned. “Is this a job interview?” The assassin shrugged, which told Roan that it was. “Okay, that’s easy. A year ago, I was on the wrong side of history.”
“You were at the Battle of the Black Pit?”
Roan nodded and felt the edge of the sword. It was so sharp that just touching it was like a bee sting. “I was and I saw him. Right before I died I saw this…this giant god. It was amazing. Ever since then I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about that much power. Then a few weeks ago I read about Arching’s trial and I knew I wanted to be on the winning side this time.”
“And you thought the best way to do that was to break into his temple and kill everyone there?”
“You knew about that? I’m surprised I’m still alive.” In the shadows of the cowl, the hint of a smile widened and the sword’s blade nicked Roan again. Roan held up his hands, saying, “Slow down. I wasn’t part of that group. It was, I don’t know, providence that I ran across one of them that had respawned. He told me what they were up to and I decided to infiltrate the group and take it down from the inside. I figured I could knife them one after another when they were in the middle of battle, unfortunately they had already killed everyone in the temple.”
The assassin considered this before asking, “And the temple of Apollo? Why did you go there the first time?”
“One of the clerics said he’d had orders from Apollo and I wanted to check the place out. I was hoping to cause some mayhem, only you had gotten there first. I hope you don’t think I’
m blowing smoke up your ass, but it was a real class hit. Right then I knew that I wanted to be an assassin, killing for the Infinite One.”
“And what about Tarranon? What is your loyalty to him?”
This was easiest question to answer. “I don’t have any loyalty to him whatsoever. If he died today, I would not shed a tear. And speaking of dying, he was the one who set up the attack on your temple. He only tried to make it look like the cleric of Apollo had done it.”
“Yes, we know about Tarranon’s part in all of this already,” the assassin said. “We know everything, except…” He paused and drew out the moment. “Except we don’t know just how dedicated you are. People talk, talk, talk. What we need is someone who lets his actions speak for him.”
Roan tried to shrug, however the pain from his wounds made it more of an expressive grimace. “You’ve seen my actions, and you’ve seen what I can do.”
“Up to this point, you have been impressive. You have proven that you are cunning, quick and strong. That gets your foot in the door. Now, all you have to do is prove your loyalty. You do that by killing him.”
“Oh.” Roan didn’t think he could. Tarranon was exceedingly cagey and his drow witch seemed an even higher level than Gairafel. The only way he’d be able to kill Tarranon was to take him in his sleep or in some other position of extreme vulnerability. Something that didn’t seem very likely. “It might take a few days to set up,” Roan said, feeling as though he was treading on the edge of a lie.
The assassin seemed to be able to look right through him. “And what is your plan? Do you expect to be invited over for a sleepover and then get him when he’s in his pajamas? Tarranon doesn’t trust anyone, not even his chief lieutenant, Corvo. He doesn’t even trust his bodyguards. His hideout is located in an extra-dimensional space and the rooms within it have security features that we can’t even dream of on the other side. The use of invisibility, illusion and magic of any sort will set off all manner of alarms.”
“What about poison?”
The caused the assassin to scoff. “Not only does he have poison detectors, he also has potions that will cure 99% of every poison known to man.”
Roan was at a loss and knew that he was more than a little out of his league. He floundered… “Maybe I can convince him to come out of his lair.”
“And how long will that take? The Infinite One is due to be released in nine days. I want Tarranon dead in two.”
“I can do it,” Roan said, hoping to sound confident even though this time he wasn’t just treading on the edge of a lie, he was up to his knees in it. There was no way he could kill Tarranon. The most he could do was try to get Tarranon to fake his own death in such a believable manner as to fool the assassin’s spies.
“How? Wait, don’t bother answering. You may be a good thief, but you’re not the best liar.” Roan did his best to keep his face neutral as the assassin went on. “I already know what you’ll do. You’ll throw yourself helter-skelter at Tarranon and just waste my time in the process.”
“Do you have a better idea because I would love to hear it.”
Now the partially hidden grin went wide enough for Roan to count the very white teeth of the assassin. “Yes. I want you to kill him on the other side.”
Chapter 31
K Street Killers Territory, Oberast
The flat way in which the man said this sent a cold chill up Roan’s back, but he forced himself not to react. “The other side?” he asked. “Are you suggesting that I kill him…”
“In the real world, yes.”
There it was, the first domino to fall. The cold chill turned into the hot excitement of the chase. This was his first break: one count of conspiracy to commit murder, punishable by up to twenty years in a federal penitentiary. To get a conviction, however, he needed the assassin to perform any act to further the agreement, otherwise the defense would go with: “My client was just positing a hypothetical.”
“And how would I do this?”
A grunt of amusement slipped from the cowl. “No question of the morality involved? Good. I find wishy-washy moral quandaries tedious. As for how? All you need is a name, a phone number, an address; anything like that of his on the other side and I will steer you right to him.”
Roan leaned back to ease the pain of his wounds. “I’m getting a healing potion,” he said. He could tell the assassin wanted to stop him, however he decided against it and allowed Roan access to his potions. He drank all three potions, one after the other. The relief was immediate and yet, he still was down eleven hit points after the third.
“That’s a little better,” Roan said, stretching and feeling the pull of partially healed muscles and organs. “Alright, I’ll do it. I’ll kill him, but I want in once I do. I want to be a full-fledged member.”
The assassin didn’t hesitate to agree. “Of course. Get me any information you can on him then pop back to the other side and call this number.” He handed Roan a business card with gold numbering embossed across it: 212-555-6661.
“666? Nice touch.”
“You have two days,” the assassin said, the coldness in his voice cutting off the least pleasantries. “In forty-eight hours, the offer is rescinded and your life will be considered forfeit, so do not be late.” With that the assassin grinned and like the Cheshire Cat, he disappeared, the grin being the last to fade.
With the city in an uproar, Roan had to disappear just as quickly. He could hear people yelling from street level and it seemed to him that the voices were directed upward right at him.
Roan sucked down his own Invisibility Potion and vanished. Not even a second later, the door of the roof access burst open and a flood of K Street Killers raced out. They stared at the scorch marks left from the Inferno spell and gaped at the corpse with both trepidation and awe. Quickly, Roan dropped to his knee and fetched his Ring of Shielding as well as the dagger the wizard had used to stab him.
Then, with the last dregs of the jumping potion in his veins, he ran to the edge of the building and leapt across to the next, stumbling when he landed. That was it for that potion.
Without an augmented ability to leap, he decided he wasn’t going to chance jumping the chasms between buildings and instead made his way down the stairs, dodging the thugs as they came up. Although they were “tough-guys” Roan thought they babbled like scared children, going on about the wizard and how powerful he was. In spite of these assurances, most were afraid; they carried their ceremonial shields close, just under their eyes as if they were about to be attacked.
Roan could have killed the lot of them, but he had lost interest in Daggerland. The constant demands of survival were wearing on him and he was tired, dog tired and he wanted to get home as fast as possible and put at an end to this entire adventure. The thugs were easily dodged. Invisible as he was, he calmly stepped onto the seventh floor landing, pressed his back to the wall and waited for the troop to pass by. When they were gone, he walked down to street level and slipped away toward the boundary of K Street Killer territory.
As he strode through the filthy city with cutthroats and pickpockets everywhere, he barely paid attention to his surroundings and trusted wholly that his invisibility would keep him safe. His mind dwelled on what lay ahead—step one was to find out where that phone number led to.
Had it been any other number, he would have thought it to be just a burner—a disposable number to go along with a disposable phone. “But 666? That can’t be coincidence.”
A ragged, scabby, unbathed beggar, who was nearly as invisible as Roan, heard him. “666? Is the devil here? Has he come for me? He’s been after me for so long.”
“I’m not the devil, but you better turn your life around or else he will come for you,” Roan answered and slid quietly away. A second later, he had forgotten the beggar; he was back on the case, spinning different scenarios in his mind.
The best case was that the number would led him right to the headquarters of the Infinite Assassins. He would nab t
hem, the bad guys would go to jail, and everyone goes home happy. Roan was all set to clock out to set the gears of justice in motion when he paused with a worm of doubt squiggling in his gut.
It seemed too easy. There was no way that the assassins would be drawn out into the open with only a few calls on Roan’s part. So far, they had proven to be slick operators. They had covered their tracks in both worlds very well. In fact, extremely well. If Roan hadn’t known they were gamer geeks, he would have assumed they were trained professionals, which, in a sense they were. The game had instilled in them an assassin’s mind, and although they might not be able to climb walls and evade bullets in the real world like a Daggerland assassin could, they were just as ruthless and just as evil.
“And just as cunning. Which begs the question, would a twentieth level assassin hand out a phone number that might implicate him in a string of deaths to someone he had just met?” The answer was clearly no. “And would he hand over a number that could be traced? Never, unless they want it to be traced.”
Roan stopped in the middle of the street as his paranoia kicked into high gear.
Perhaps the number would lead to a house that was rigged with explosives. Perhaps it would lead to an ambush. Perhaps it would lead to a warehouse filled with an exotic toxic gas. Half a precinct could be wiped out, just like that.
“Nah,” he said, thinking that his paranoia had gone too far. The assassins were too slick for mass killings. “And they don’t need to kill a hundred people, they just need to kill one. Me.”
2—
The excitement of the chase fizzled inside of him. Roan knew he was slated to die and in a burst of insight, he knew how they were going to do it, too. He pulled out the business card he had been given by the assassin and memorized the gold leaf numbers before dropping the card. It fluttered to the ground.
Infinite Assassins: Daggerland Online Novel 2 A LITRPG Adventure Page 29