by Jason Cheek
From everything they’d learned since arriving in port, the Dread Pack guild was making some sort of agreement with the northern Orcs and waiting for their forces to land in Darom. Thomas frowned, mentally corrected himself as he tried to understand what was going on. It probably wasn’t only the Dread Pack guild. From what Star had said, they were all under the Chaos Storm alliance. Did Chaos Storm make an agreement with the monsters of this world to wipe out the human realm so that the players could take over the devastated lands?
What did they have to agree to? Feeding the people from the various cities to the monsters and destroying the Humanoid Alliance that had been stopping the monsters’ raids for the last five hundred or so years? Hell, did any of the players truly understand what the Isolde Line did? They probably thought they’d wipe out the Orcs or any of the other northern tribes just as easily as they’d cleaned house in any of the previous MMORPGs they’d played in the past.
They probably thought the monster races were just bits of code following a script. Why wouldn’t they hold to an agreement that was made to a player? They were just ignorant pieces of code, right? It’s basically the same way they thought about the people of the world. Thomas had a sinking feeling in his gut. He had no doubt that the northern demi-human races were pushing their own agenda and the Chaos Storm alliance had no idea what kind of hornet’s nest they’d just kicked.
It sounded just like the crap he’d dealt with when he was serving in Afghanistan. Politicians and corporate special interest groups playing armchair generals in Washington who were constantly making command decisions when they had no understanding of the situation or who they were dealing with. Those idiots constantly fucked things up for the common soldiers and commanders with their boots on the ground. How many troopers had fallen in the line of duty or were combat vets that were scarred for life because some idiot refused support or permission for the troopers to protect themselves when they came under attack?
“I know how we’re going to take these assholes out.” Thomas confidently said as he met Kenzie’s eyes. There was no question in his mind that they had to take these jackasses out and quick, because this was turning into a bigger shitstorm than Star knew. He had no idea how they were going to handle it all, but, one way or another, they’d figure out a way together to stop these bastards. Feeling the iron resolve filling his soul, he continued with a feral grin. “Here’s what we are going to do.”
***
“The dark be dammed, he’s back,” Sheila Carnell gritted out between clenched teeth to her girlfriend Elisa Cox who was crafting chain mail next to her. The look of exhausted acceptance that came to the younger woman’s face made her heart break. Not that Sheila blamed her. After being forced to craft armor for nearly a week straight without food or water and little to no sleep, life had become a living nightmare. If not for her children that were suffering too, she would have given up days ago. Her eyes focused on Rasmussen Jestes, the level 34 newfar Warrior that had taken a sick liking to her friend.
“That buggering bastard can come for me if he wants,” Elisa swore in a voice that had lost all hope. After her fiancé, Swordsman Lyle Runeschoff, had been lost in the Straight of Icelus with the princess and now this atrocity, a quick death would be welcomed. “I swear by the dark, I’ll take his balls as my prize before I let that pig touch me again.” She vowed showing Sheila the hilt of the skinning blade she’d secreted away in her leathers. Before she could say more, Sheila shocked voice cut her off.
“Something must have happened, their entire raid looks like they’ve been through the wringer,” she hissed as she angled her head to get a better look between her hanging locks.
“That won’t be helping us any if it be true.” Elisa sadly said with a shake of her head. Carefully tilting her head to the side, she did her best to see what her friend was talking about. Luckily all the guards were watching the new arrivals or she’d have surely been beaten again for raising her eyes. They’d all quickly learned about the sadism of their new rulers. For the hundredth time, she cursed Prince Lekroth, now King Isolde if you could believe the royal announcements that these newfar had brought with them.
Once he’d seen what they were doing, Warden Rohan had tried to fight them with what was left of the Royal Army and the city guards, but it was too little too late. Nearly all of the soldiers had been burned to death by the newfar’s powerful magic. Not that the retribution for the uprising was any more severe. By then they’d nearly enslaved the entire town. Tears of helpless rage fell from her cheeks as she heard the approaching footfalls. Sheila was nearly frantic with worry as Elisa slipped her hand around the wooden hilt of her knife.
Rasmussen had told her in detail what he was going to do to her when he returned. The sick bastard loved anticipation of the hunt. They’d both seen it with the other women he’d taken a fancy to. Not this time, Elisa silently swore. She’d take his balls and carve his face up too, she promised herself as her body tensed for action. To her shock, the disgusting pig’s shuffling feet passed her by as she let out the breath she’d been holding. Not that the bastard went far. As Rasmussen came to a stop next to their jailer, she looked back at her girlfriend only to be confused at the wigged out expression on the other woman’s face.
“That’s not Rasmussen,” she urgently hissed staring at the newfar’s back.
“What do you mean, that’s not him?” she whispered back in confusion. “Of course it’s him.” Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she looked back at the buggering rapist’s back, that’s when she saw what her friend meant. She was scanning the arena looking for the rest of the returning raid members, when Rasmussen’s walking corpse tackled their guard watching over them to the ground and began ripping the man’s face with his teeth.
Screams of fear erupted from everyone’s throats as zombies began tearing their captors apart. The blood curdling shrieks of agony and terror coming from the Dread Pack members’ throats turned Elisa’s blood cold as she watched individual guards being tackled to the ground by as many as seven or even eight zombies. The undead creatures’ bone-like claws shredded the men’s flesh like it was tissue paper as they began eating their victims alive in a frenzy. She didn’t blanch or look away, but savored every ghastly moment of the bastards’ pain.
After the initial shock, the survivors of Darom stopped screaming and simply watched the grisly scene unfold with a certain sense of apathy. Most simply waited for death as they watched the sadistic scumbags that had terrorized, tortured, and killed so many of their friends and families take their turn experiencing horrific deaths. Watching the undead feeding on these killers was like watching the hand of darkness casting its judgement onto their rotten souls. In Elisa’s mind, it was worth dying to see these rotten men getting their just desserts. Besides, chained as they were to their benches, it wasn’t like any of them could run away from the grisly death that awaited them. Gathering Sheila into her arms, she simply rocked the older woman singing softly as the men that had brutalized them for the last week were torn apart before their eyes.
Tears ran down the older woman’s face as she cried into Elisa’s chest. While Sheila yearned for death, she wanted her children to have a chance at life. Now though, she knew that was never going to happen. Hopelessly, her red eyes searched through the chaos for her missing children. They’d been separated from her at the beginning of this nightmare. She swore, if not for Elisa’s comfort, she would have been unable to go on.
It was in that moment of absolute despair that she noticed the black armored troopers that were charging into the arena. What brought her out of her detached lethargy was the fact that they were killing the newfar and not the zombies. When she saw the familiar face of a ghost running by below, she sat up with a jolt.
“Lyle!” Sheila felt her friend jerk upright as she surged to her knees. Lyle had been friends with Trent since they were children. His blonde hair might be longer now and pulled back in a ponytail and he was wearing an odd uniform, but she knew tha
t face and the surprised look in his blue eyes like the back of her hand as she urgently cried out. “Swordsman Lyle Runeschoff!”
“Sheila! Lyle shouted back excitedly as soon as he followed the sound of the voice back to its source. “Elisa!” For a second, her friend was conflicted as to what to do. His head whipped around wildly to survey the battle in the arena. Seeing that the newfar were all nearly cut down, he spun around and began leaping up the stone benches as he hurriedly made his way up to them. Tears ran down his face as he scooped both women up in his arms.
For a long moment, Sheila just buried her face into the man’s hard chest as he passionately kissed Elisa like a man who’d found water after nearly dying of thirst. All three of them were crying. After everything they’d endured and suffered the last week and now this, it was almost too much for them to handle as they blubbered about their grief, happiness, and relief. Golden glows of healing magic started popping up around the townspeople as it shimmered over Elisa who was still in her lover’s arms, Lyle suddenly stiffened in their arms.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. We are still fighting against these Dread Pack vermin,” Lyle said, his voice unconsciously turning hard. After seeing what they’d done to his friends and family in Darom, he wanted almost nothing more than to kill these evil bastards. Thomas had taken a chance on having his fighting force fall apart by taking a side-trip to save the townspeople in the arena, but being a soldier for all of his life, he couldn’t turn down a chance at saving many of the troopers’ families. Already the order to reform was being called out in his local raid chat.
“You must tell me, is Trent alive?” Sheila urgently asked clutching at his leather armor. “Please, I must know the truth.”
“Yes, Trent survived.” Lyle assured her as she cried out falling to her knees in relief. Pulling her back to her feet, he explained that Trent was assigned to another newfar on the far side of the arena but that he was fine while he urgently began searching for the keys on the dead guard. Speaking quickly, Elisa explained that the leader of the newfar at the middle of the arena had the keys. A quick request from Lyle got the ring of keys tossed to him from another familiar face as he hurriedly began freeing them of their shackles.
“We can’t stay to free everyone,” he said apologetically. “You’re going to need to make sure you start freeing the others as quickly as possible. If you can, gather other guard trainees to watch the gravestones. Until they turn black, the newfar can respawn here … err … resurrect here on their own.” Ignoring the look of horror on both women’s faces, he hurriedly continued.
“The surviving Dread Pack members have formed a massive raid almost four hundred strong. We’re going now to stop them while you run down to the docks with everyone else.”
“You can’t go!” Elisa nearly screamed. “You’ll all just die like the Warden and everyone else did!”
“Don’t worry, we know about their abilities and how to fight them,” Lyle confidently said. “We have our own newfar leading the way.”
“No, you don’t understand!” Elisa said as a look of horror crossed her face. “You can’t trust any of them-“
“I can trust Sir Ironwolf.” Lyle said, cutting her off as he held her to his chest while she fought to break his grip. “If not for him, I would have remained dead.” That statement gave her pause as she saw the truth of the words in his eyes. “There is so much to tell you, but there is not time. Please my love, trust me in this.” He said kissing her knuckles. She saw him stiffen again as a new battle update came to him.
“Look, Commander Thomas has asked that the Iron Falcon Mercenary group be sent to give everyone here a hand.” His grimace at the news told both women everything they needed to know about his thoughts on the subject. Seeing their worried looks, he hurriedly explained. “None of us trust the mercenaries, but there’s no one else to send except the corpse gathering platoon and there’s not enough of them to keep everyone safe if these scumbags respawn back at their gravestones.”
“We’re just stretched too thin hitting the Dread Pack as hard as we can all over the city. The only way you’re going to be safe is by getting everyone down to the docks. The rest of our people there will give you a hand.” He lowered his voice so that only they could hear his next words. “Just let the rest of the trooper families know to let Sub-Captain Windcoat know that you’re with us and will be swearing allegiance to the House of Kayden.” Seeing she wanted to argue, he silenced her with a kiss.
“If you love me, please just do what I ask and don’t argue.” Lyle said holding her gaze. Seeing her nod of agreement, he went to turn away when Sheila stopped him with a hand on his bicep.
“Have you seen any of the children?” She desperately asked. “Greg and Lillian have been missing since they chained us to these dark be dammed benches and-” her voice turned into choking sobs as she saw the stark look in Lyle’s eyes. Elisa tried to help as her friend dropped to her knees, they were both stopped by Lyle’s rough hands.
“It’s not what you think,” he urgently hissed to both women. “Lord Ironwolf will resurrect them all at the end of the battle. For now, take as many people with you as you can to collect the children’s corpses. They’re all outside the eastern entrance.”
“Why would this newfar lord care about any of us?” Elisa angrily hissed. The thought that any of these newfar could be good was almost too much for her to hear.
“Because he does. Most of us would be dead if not for him.” Seeing the angry expressions on both women’s faces, he took a deep breath and tried again. “Look, if he doesn’t save them, then you can hate him all you want, but until that time, give him a chance to prove himself. Okay?“ He pulled Elisa in for a hug as she tiredly leaned her forehead against his broad chest.
“We’ll do this for you,” Elisa said, after getting a nod from Sheila. “What other choice do we have?”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Lyle said reassuringly. Giving her a final kiss on the lips, he murmured into her ear before taking off. “Be safe and head to the port.”
Helping Sheila to her feet, Elisa held her friend close as they both watched her fiancé race down to the arena’s floor. Everywhere she looked, black leather-armored troopers were busy taking apart the massive stone benches that made up the lower stands, while the zombies, that had been just moments before shredding the Dread Pack members apart, were carrying the massive stones out through the warden’s exit.
There were eighteen of the undead creatures obviously still on guard huddled in a large group around five black gravestones that had been thrown in a pile together at the center of the arena. Even as Lyle joined his squad, the undead tacked a group of five newfar that suddenly appeared out of thin air. No one even blinked while the zombies attacked by leaping on top of the men. Their harrowing screams of agony momentarily echoed around the arena as they were ripped apart by the zombies in a matter of seconds. As soon as the last newfar died, there was a new set of gravestones, but now only three of them were black.
Almost like clockwork, two more groups of black armored Humans came jogging into the arena. The first was a group of seventy-seven hard-faced men that made her instantly think of mercenaries when she saw them, while the second was a group of twenty lower-level warriors led by a swordsman she recognized as one of the newer recruits in Lyle’s company. As soon as the group of twenty took up a defensive position around the three remaining black gravestones, the zombies joined the last of the black clad troopers. Picking up the handful of stone benches left, they all headed out the warden’s exit.
“Come on, “Sheila said, grabbing the older woman by the wrist and heading for the other military families gathering below. “Let’s find your babies and get down to the docks like Lyle said!”
***
“If Thomas’ double cast of zombies was so ingenuous, then why aren’t we using it to attack the inside of the towers?” Fylreh asked, giving me a look that basically said you’re an idiot. Unfortunately, the filly wasn’t
quite finished yet as she continued in a sarcastic voice. “It just seems like that would be the better play here. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to be running out of soul stones anytime soon, is it?”
No one said a word in our group as I looked away from the centauride to study the gatehouse. A quick glance over my shoulder at the Shadow Scouts around us said it all. Gykac and his Dark Elves were doing their best to keep a straight face, while inside my head Helgath and Neysa were laughing it up at me. Partly, that was due to how I could be pigheaded at times when it came to sticking to my plans. The other reason was because they’d both had to save my ass more than once when we were taking out the prepared defenses of the towers.
In truth, Fylreh had a good point. Even if we were officially broken-up as a couple, she was doing her job as my vassal and a friend. No matter how much her sarcasm stung at times, I knew it was because she worried about losing me in one of these crazy attacks. My eyes went down to the zombies that were lugging the gravestones as I frowned. We were down to only thirty-five now, but I’d hoped these assholes would’ve just given up trying to hit us after being slaughtered two or three times in a row upon respawn. Whoever these guys were, they were being a little too persistent for my comfort. The last thing I wanted to do was have to deal with them while taking out the gatehouses. Not that we could even begin the attack until Scout Captain Dherler showed up.
We’d slaughtered forty-four players on my side of the city and forty-eight on the Scout Captains side during our quest to take control of the walls and knock out the smaller groups of the Dread Pack players that were easy pickings. The last holdouts left were the gatehouse towers on each side of the city’s wide entrance. From what one of the captured players had reported before they were slaughtered, there were twenty-five enemy players holed up inside each defensive structure. I grinned evilly at the memory. It’s amazing what kind of information you can get when the choice of death is being stuck by blade or having your face eaten off by a zombie.