Lost Lands: The Game - Atlantis

by A. E. McCullough

  To put it bluntly, the Peacekeepers were in complete disarray. They had expected minimal resistance for their assault on the town and had planned accordingly. They also figured that there would be some stragglers that would barricade themselves somewhere or flee into the woods. These were situations that they had planned for…not the unexpected assault of the wyvern riders.

  As Jericho witnessed the deadly efficiency of the Outlanders, he knew that all of his plans and dreams were about to disintegrate. He had one chance to turn the tide of the battle back on itself. He had to take out some of the Outlanders. The closest and seemingly most disheartening pair to his men’s morale was the huge armored knight with the battle axe and the red-cloaked priest with the war-hammer. Seeing no other option, the Grand Marshal of the Peacekeepers drew his sword and waded into battle.

  * * * * *

  Sanguine Bolt rarely thought of his life before being pulled into the game.

  Those memories were almost like the dream that had happened to someone else and not real life. Of course, he’d discovered that the one real truth of the game long ago, one person’s dream is in effect another person’s reality. The truth of the matter was that he was trapped here in Hyperborea. That was a fact. It was originally designed as a game world, another fact. But even though logically he knew it was naught but a game, it could kill you as outright as a psychopath with a gun. A long forgotten quote ran through his mind. ‘If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? If you wrong us shall we not revenge?’

  Shakespeare. Sanguine knew it was Shakespeare but he couldn’t recall which play or movie it was from. The Wayne mindset remembered the famous actor Sir Laurence Olivier speaking that line in some old nearly forgotten movie but that was about it.

  Taking a deep breath, Sanguine shook his head to clear it of the times before he was pulled into the game and turned his attention to the amazing scenery.

  His gryphon was flying along the northern edge of the forest that dominated the majority of this region of Hyperborea. It was shorter to fly over the water in a straight line to Atlantis but it was nowhere as beautiful. A person can only stare down at the unbroken waters of the oceans for so long before it gets boring. Or at least that’s how it affected him.

  Suddenly, his gryphon tucked in his wings and dove with a loud screech.

  Grabbing on the reins, Sanguine pulled back with all his strength but the hybrid eagle-lion wasn’t responding to his commands. He’d been flying on gryphons ever since he’d left Atlantis and its dragons behind years ago. This had never happened before. Leveling out mere feet from the tree tops, the gryphon flapped his mighty wings and picked up speed. He screeched again but this time he was answered from below. Not just one shriek but several echoed through the trees.

  Since the flying beast wasn’t listening to him and all he could do was hold on, Sanguine hazarded a look over his shoulder and noticed nine large figures break from the canopy of trees behind him. They were similar in size to his steed but these looked different in some aspects. As they quickly drew abreast of him, he noticed that they were a hybrid of a gryphon and a horse, more commonly referred to as a hippogriff.

  Several questions ran through Sanguine’s mind. Why would his gryphon suddenly not respond to his commands? And why would it call to hippogriffs? And for that matter, why would they answer him? But more than that, where were they going in such a hurry? Not that he had any answers or any other choice but to hang on and find out.

  * * * * *

  At this precise moment, Cozad was as close to Nirvana as he could get in life. He was surrounded by numerous enemies and he could kill with impunity. He was truly and fully a servant of Thanatos, the god of death. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that none of his current opponents even offered him a challenge. They died easily and messily by spell or blade. Granted, that would make his god happy but it did nothing to quench his need to conquer an enemy of true worth.

  When his eyes fell upon the Grand Marshal of the Peacekeepers, Cozad smiled.

  * * * * *

  Tariq couldn’t hold back a grin as he watched the scarlet samurai cut into the Peacekeepers. It was weird to think of Tao as the cavalry especially since he’d threatened to kill him but at this point, the assassin would take his chances with him. He knew what the Peacekeepers would do to them if captured and it wasn’t pretty. At least with the samurai, he had a chance and with Callistra in his corner, he liked his odds.

  He stepped back from his vantage point in the hay loft and looked down into the stable proper. The witch had done wonders with the villagers that had sought refuge in the old stable. She had organized the ladies and elderly into a formidable defense that had actually repelled the invaders twice. The older children had been put to work keeping the horses calm and out of the way, while the youngest kids had been given scouting jobs all throughout the barn. It was make-work but the kids believed they were helping and that kept them out from under the adults’ feet and possibly out of harm’s way.

  Tariq could tell from Callistra’s mannerisms that she hadn’t seen the arrival of her real world husband, probably due to the fact that there was still a mass of Peacekeeper bodies trying to burst through the stable door. He was unsure of how she would react when she saw him but he knew that he couldn’t, no shouldn’t, keep that information from her. “Calli,” he called out, “the cavalry has arrived.”

  The beautiful ginger haired vampyress paused and looked up. “What? Who?”

  The assassin pointed to the opposite wall. “Tao has arrived and it looks as if he brought a bunch of friends.”

  Calli dropped the pitch fork she was using and rushed to the ladder that led to the loft. “Patrick is here?”

  Tariq moved back to his vantage point and nodded. “Looks that way, I don’t suppose that there are too many crimson samurais in the neighborhood.”

  She smiled at his sarcastic remark.

  Tariq pointed to the left. “And it looks like Kastle is with him.”

  Calli shifted her attention to the area he’d indicated and sure enough, she spied the warrior-priest of Thor as he locked weapons with Grand Marshal Jericho. It was sword and shield versus lightning-kissed war-hammer. A servant of the thunder god versus the right arm of the Peacekeepers. It promised to be an epic battle until a cloud of darkness engulfed the warrior-priest, hiding him from sight.

  “What the…” Callistra asked before she spied the imposing armored figure of Cozad step forward.

  Tariq swallowed hard and mumbled under his breath. “That doesn’t bode well for Jericho.”

  * * * * *

  Cozad had felt the rage of jealousy flow through him when the priest engaged the enemy commander. Somewhere deep inside him, he heard a small voice ask, ‘How dare that upstart steal your kill?’

  Cozad shook his head even as he killed a young warrior with a backhanded slash. “Kastle should know better.”

  ‘He doesn’t believe you have it in you to do what’s necessary,’ came the voice, only this time it was stronger.

  Cozad continued to cut his way across the battlefield in a straight line toward the two warriors. “He knows that I will do whatever is necessary to accomplish my goal.”

  ‘If that is true, then he wants the glory for himself and his god.’

  “Not on my watch.” Calling forth the dark powers at his command, Cozad dropped a globe of darkness on the priest and stepped forward. Raising his huge axe, the dreadknight entered the fray.

  * * * * *

  Tao and Gamble made a formidable duo.

  They had cut straight through the invaders until they’d reached the besieged stables and turned to one side. Mathias and his archers were decimating the enemies to his left, so Tao had turned to his right and began cutting deep into their ranks. Unknowingly, or better yet unconsciously, the samurai had caught the majority of the Peacekeeper force between them and the two holy warriors.

  Tao sliced and stabbe
d with deadly precision as he constantly moved forward. He had switched to the same tactic he had used the last time he had run afoul of the Peacekeepers, his attacks became less about killing and more about wounding. Gamble was like his shadow on a cloudy day, always one step behind him but never seen for long. One moment he was on the samurai’s left, the next on his right. Always present but never prominent. The skald would silently slide forward and slice an Achilles tendon here or whack a downed warrior on the temple there, whatever was needed to aid his friend.

  * * * * *

  Even though the Peacekeepers still outnumbered the Outlanders, the invaders were now on the defensive and felt as if they were caught between Scylla and Charybdis or more commonly known as a rock and a hard place.

  Grand Marshal Jericho sensed all this and knew that he was outmatched by the dark knight with the axe. Jericho still had the slimmest glimmer of hope that he could turn it around right up to the moment his sword broke. Falling onto his backside, the Grand Marshal raised his battered shield in a feeble defense and called, “Parley!”

  * * * * *

  All around the battlefield, the Peacekeepers stopped fighting, dropped to one knee, lowered their weapons and looked to their leader. The Outlanders paused in their attack and followed their gaze.

  Unseen by all, there was still a battle raging but it was inside of Cozad’s psyche. The Ed mindset was fighting a losing battle against the Chaos Spirit. The more Cozad had waded into battle, killing indiscriminately, the stronger the Chaos Spirit became. With each passing second, Ed felt the chains of hatred bind him deeper and deeper within his own self. So much so, that he could no longer speak. However, a new voice had taken his place. A sweeter voice that continually whispered words of lust, malice and greed. Cozad looked down on the battered form before him. The enemy commander was bleeding from numerous wounds but instead of bearing them stoically like a true warrior, he was calling for a parley.

  “Only a coward would ask for mercy.”

  Raising his axe high, Cozad brought his weapon down with as much force as he could muster. The soulbound axe seemed to scream in delight as it cleaved through the Grand Marshal’s shield, armor and body.

  Chapter 28

  Grigoris shook his head in a mixture of disgust and despair as he watched the Dreadknight split the Peacekeeper commander in two. Not for the fact that one of game’s constructs had died. Death was only the logical conclusion of life. Without the threat of death, one cannot truly know the value of life. That was a universal truth.

  No, it was more than that. Cozad had killed an enemy that was beaten and had in effect surrendered. He did this willingly which showed that his brother’s influence had won out. He was now an instrument of the Chaos Spirit.

  Grigoris turned his attention back to the other Outlanders. One of them must be the key. As always, he could do nothing but watch and pray.

  Chapter 29

  Tao couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. Yes, he’d seen and done some horrible things during his time in Iraq but this was different. What Cozad had just done topped them all, including the stuff the damned CIA Spooks did to Iraqi insurgents. Tao ignored those around him as he rushed across the battlefield. When he saw the Dreadknight move toward the nearest Peacekeeper and raise his axe once more, he screamed, “No!”

  However, it wasn’t his command that halted the Dreadknight nor the fact that he had a change of heart. It was the arrival of a new combatant on the field. A large dragon-like creature with rust colored scales, a long tail and the head that was reminiscent of a rooster landed next to the corpse of Jericho. Sitting on its back was a man that had the look of a typical wizard; black robes, brass spectacles and pointed but floppy wide-brimmed hat. However, he seemed very spry and alert despite the long grey beard.

  “By the Maker, that’s a cockatrice,” came a voice in Tao’s ear. The scarlet samurai glanced quickly to his left to find that Jerrick had joined him and Gamble on the battlefield. The reformed raider kept speaking. “I didn’t think anyone, not even the Atlanteans could tame them, at least not enough to ride on.”

  Tao nodded toward the wizard. “You know him?”

  Jerrick shook his head. “Nope and I don’t think I want to.”

  The black-robed wizard stood tall in his saddle and looked over the battlefield. “And what do we have here?”

  Tao assumed that was a rhetorical question and kept silent. The wizard’s voice had a slight nasal quality to it but more than that his tone was full of confidence. Nonetheless, Tao started moving to one side toward the dreadknight and one that might give him a better angle on the cockatrice if it came down to a fight.

  The wizard hopped off and gazed down at the body of the grand marshal. “He was a good commander, once. Lately he’s been making too many mistakes.” He patted the huge Dreadknight on the shoulder like one would a pet. “You saved me the trouble of killing him. Thanks.”

  Cozad planted the butt of his axe in the ground and looked down on the newcomer. “And just who do you think you are?”

  The wizard cocked his head to one side and was about to speak when another voice echoed across the battlefield.

  “Sartael!”

  The wizard turned and smiled, although Tao noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, Kastle. How good of you to come. Did you finally get tired of preaching to the little people in Crooner’s Gap?”

  Kastle moved forward slowly with his warhammer still in hand. “But…but you are an Atlantean. Why would you be leading the Peacekeepers?”

  The wizard waved off the priest’s concerns with one hand while the other one caressed a strange looking device that was stuffed in his belt. “Oh Kastle, you are so naïve. I am no more an Atlantean than you are a Norseman.”

  The priest stopped moving and cocked his head to one side. “What? But you bear the mark and you said you were from Atlantis.”

  “I lied. Actually, I’m from Seattle.”

  “You’re an Outlander?”

  Sartael glanced over at the Dreadknight. “Is he always this dense?”

  Cozad nodded. “Yes.”

  Sartael shook his head. “I used you and your companions because you had something I needed.”

  Kastle’s eyes flicked down to the wizard’s waist and recognition flooded his face. “You needed our weapons. But…but why?”

  “It’s simple. In this land there are only two types of people, those with power and those too weak to seize it for themselves. The rest of you are in the latter category. I knew this from the moment I met you. I thought about asking you to join me but all you and your companions wanted to do was complete some lame quest and return home.” Sartael’s eyes flashed with excitement as he spoke. “This is truly the land of opportunity. If we want something, we take it. No rules, no cops, no jails. We can be gods here.”

  “But that is so wrong. Might does not make you right.”

  Sartael shook his head and sighed. “I had hoped that a few years living with the little people would’ve changed your mind but I see you are beyond hope.”

  Cozad moved up to his side. “I bet you have a plan.”

  Sartael smiled again but this time it was more like the one a cat gives the mouse that it was about to eat. “Yes, yes I do. Kill them and bring me their weapons.”

  Cozad lifted his axe. “Why?”

  Sartael pulled out a strange device and held it aloft. It looked like some kind of staff with a crossbar about a foot from the top where one half of a black globe on top of it. As the black robed wizard lifted it higher, Tao could tell that the cross-bar was actually two wands.

  “This is only one-half of the Dragon Orb. I’ve been experimenting with it for the last few years and I’ve discovered that the weapons Al Shaytan gave us when we crossed over have enough energy to power this device.” Sartael waved it around proudly. “I can already control the lesser dragon-kind. Hopefully with the addition of their weapons, I can control the dragons. Let me demonstrate.”

  Sartae
l lifted the device high overhead and it began to glow with a black light. Every wyvern screamed as if in pain. Those that were still flying immediately turned on their riders, while those on the ground attacked whoever was closest, friend or foe.

  It was pure anarchy.

  The worst part to Tao was hearing Cozad’s laughter. Taking two steps forward, the samurai pointed his frost covered katana at the wizard. “Stop it.”

  Sartael lowered his caduceus and raised one eyebrow. “Hmmm…a samurai. You must be an Outlander, Al Shaytan told me he was sending me some new recruits.”

  Cozad hefted up his axe. “His name is Taote Ching and he is quite formidable.”

  Sartael began to pace as he looked the samurai up and down. “Can you take him?”

  “Yes,” Cozad answered quickly. Almost too quickly.

  “You know, I believe you. But then, if he’s as dangerous as you say, you may get injured and that will delay my plans. So…” The black robed wizard grinned like the Cheshire Cat when he waved his caduceus.

  Two terrible things happened. A horde of goblins rushed out of the nearby forest to attack anything that moved. But worse than that, the cockatrice attacked. The rooster-headed serpent must’ve realized that the samurai was the greatest threat because that was its first target. Tao would’ve died in the initial attack if it hadn’t been for Jerrick.

  A cockatrice was not only a fierce fighter able to rend flesh with its mighty beak and sword-length claws, it possessed a most terrifying breath weapon…petrification.

  As the beast exhaled its deadly cloud of poison, Jerrick dove forward and knocked his new commander out of the way. Unfortunately, that also meant he took the full brunt of the toxin. One moment Jerrick was full of life…a living, breathing person. The next, he was a statue of solid rock.