Exalted Realms Online- Harbinger of Chaos

by Jamie O'Leary

  Darkwind gripped Helga in his hand. He washed the room with flames as he spun around trying to gauge how much trouble he was in. He could hear the skittering in the darkness above him, where his flames couldn’t reach, but his smoke was disturbing something in the dark. The ceiling looked like it was alive, squirming and scattering. Darkwind quickly dug into his satchel and pulled out a bottle of glowing white liquid—petricite, which will light up any room, and anything that sees the flash will be petrified temporarily. A little petricite should do the trick.

  He threw the bottle to the ground and, in a blinding flash, the entire room lit up. The ceiling was covered in giant cell spiders, some of the nastiest arachnids in all of Half-World. Darkwind had stumbled upon a nest by accident. Talk about bad luck!

  Darkwind knew he didn’t have long before the petricite wore off. The blazing white light was starting to subside as Darkwind ran around the room lighting all the webs ablaze. The spiders that were coming to scattered away from the flames. Some screeched as the flames licked their thick furry legs. Others disappeared into the large hole. Darkwind made a dash for the corridor when a giant cell spider, likely the mother of this brood, dropped in front of him, her eight nimble legs danced around Darkwind, who swung his torch before twisting back around with a heavy slash of Helgabrand.

  The spider reared up and exposed its fangs, which dripped as the spider hissed violently at Darkwind, who was not even half her size.

  “C’mon, you sorry excuse for an octoped. Show me what you’ve got!” Darkwind threw his torch in the spider’s face, splashing embers in its eyes and mouth. This bought Darkwind enough time to leap at the spider, Helga overhead, and plunge his steel into its brain. Critical hit. Instakill. It dropped to the floor and made a dull thud on the earthen floor.

  Darkwind caught his breath. Too bad you don’t count. He had to hurry now, the rest of the spiders would surely be back soon and he didn’t want to be around when that happened. Nothing to gain there. He checked the map again, and slipped into the corridor, which he could tell was leading him up. Oswic drew out the specific route for him to take when he reached this level. There was no telling what else he might find here, so Darkwind steadied Helga as he approached the second half of the maze. He was directly underneath the city of Mevalon now, and if the map was correct, he’d find himself in the basement of the Tower of Mevalon. But, first things first.

  After following the map for hours, Darkwind was starting to think he was lost. His current torch was dwindling and he only had one more in his satchel. He took stock of his rations: a few handfuls of fresh morgwolf jerky, two healing potions, some stemroot (for increased stamina), a lightning potion, and no flasks of wine. He would kill for some wine right now. He composed himself and moved on according to the map, which was becoming tedious.

  Finally, Darkwind reached the center of the labyrinth, which was directly under a long and narrow stone cylinder that extended beyond the ceiling, above-ground, and up into the Tower of Mevalon. The ceiling that Darkwind now gazed upon was actually the foundation of the city itself! It was impressive what the first Mevalonic people accomplished with this place. Inside the cylinder were steps carved into the stone, so one could climb up the four or five stories leading to the Tower of Mevalon’s basement.

  With his stats, Darkwind was quite strong and enduring; he had no problem climbing up the ancient stone steps without as much as breathing heavy. Once he reached the top, he released another lever, which unlocked the hatch, allowing him to push it open. He heaved and the rusted locks screeched as he wrenched it open.

  The basement was covered in cobwebs. It hadn’t been used in centuries. It was piled with crates and dust. Generations of Mevalonic family treasures hidden in this basement beneath the Tower of Mevalon. Oswic had explained to Darkwind how he came to know of this secret passage, from the many stories he’d heard about it throughout his life and in his research as something of an unofficial Mevalonic family history. For as accurate as his map was, he didn’t say anything about spiders!

  Darkwind made his way up the first flight of many, many steps, which wound around the interior wall of the tower basement, leading to a single door. It was locked. Without the key, Darkwind got a running start and slammed his steel-padded shoulder through the aged wooden door, splintering it like a boar whose tusks shred its victim.

  He pressed onward, up the secret staircase that exited behind the Royal Chambers at the top of the tower. The High Council usually stayed on the floor below, however tonight it was not occupied—the other High Council members were alarmed at the disappearance of Oswic, and some worried they could be next.

  “Bin, where is Oswic?” demanded Councilman Falast. Bin looked confounded. He genuinely didn’t know, but the other Council members were wise to Bin’s nefarious ways and knew he couldn’t be trusted. He could’ve been lying at that very moment! In this instance, Councilman Bin was telling the truth. The others decided there was only one way to find out.

  The rest of the High Council crept toward Bin until he was cornered, then everything went black.

  ***

  Bin awoke to discover that he wasn’t dead but restrained. There was a hood over his head, which throbbed now that he’d come to. He could hear the voices of Falast, Gobel, and Nunce. The traitors were his co-conspirators and he knew what was coming next. Bin heard them getting closer. One of them approached and tore off the hood. Bin laughed.

  “I don’t know where Oswic is, I swear it! I want gone as much as the rest of you. He stole our money!”

  “We know you talked with him,” said Falast. “What about?”

  “I merely threatened him because I thought he was thinking of doing exactly what he did!” Bin spat out hysterically. He was frustrated that no one believed him nor did they make any sense of his logical explanation.

  “I think he needs his memory jogged. What do you think, Gobel? Does he need some help remembering what he really said to Oswic?” Falast mused.

  “Yeah, he needs help,” Gobel replied, cracking his knuckles. Gobel was a ship merchant back in the days when you had to defend your own ships from the many pirate factions that roamed the seas of Half-World. He was as hard as they came—big, surly, and ruthless. He was a brawler who made a fortune from trade and plunder alike, and who bought his way into the Mevalonic High Council.

  He rolled up his sleeves and smashed his large fist into Bin’s face, popping the man’s nose. Blood poured out onto the front of Bin’s tunic. His wrists and ankles were bound to a stone chair, so all he could do was take it. And take it, he did. Again and again.

  Finally, Gobel had to stop. His hands were hurting from punching bone.

  “Where is he?” Falast commanded. But Bin couldn’t answer. He’d been knocked out cold. Then a splash of cold water. Bin tried to breathe in, but it hurt too much. His ribs were broken for sure. Bin thought this would be how he would die. Just when he thought it was over, Falast’s sadistic nature kicked in.

  Falast cut Bin’s robes open, exposing his chest. “I call each of the standing High Council to inflict ten lashes to this conspirator who could bring an end to us. For the preservation of the High Council and Mevalon, he must pay this price for his lies. I will be the first.”

  Nunce, one of the more diminutive Council members, handed Falast a leather whip, used particularly in these dungeons for punishment. This whip was taken off the rack and was permeated with the scent of leather and blood. “For you, Lord Falast.”

  Falast unfurled the whip and it hung by his side. He reared back and threw his arm forward, unleashing a crack as the leather tongue licked Bin’s torso. He screamed in agony and gritted what teeth he had left. His bruised and busted face contorted in pain with every snap of Falast’s wrist.

  Another crack and Bin screamed curses to his gods as his left eye was torn from its socket. Falast grinned as he continued…

  ***

  As Darkwind ascended the steps at a good pace, he s
topped to listen. He could hear the snapping of a whip followed by sharp cries and moans. Oh yeah! Whips and chains? Now that’s my kinda party! Darkwind decided to follow the sounds, which were echoing up from the tower’s dungeon a few floors below.

  Bin was nearly finished. His chest was ripped open and he was surviving at this point out of pure shock. Tembien, a squat toad-of-a-man, approached Bin on his turn. He was the next Council member in line after Falast, but he was weak and could barely get the whip to extend.

  “Here, let me try,” said Darkwind, making his dramatic entrance.

  The High Council members turned around startled at his appearance.

  “Who are you?” bellowed Falast.

  “I think a better question is who hired me to kill all of you.”

  The High Council members’ faces dropped at the sight of their assassin.

  “Who sent you?” Falast asked, growing angry. Gobel stood next to him, his massive frame only slightly more intimidating than Darkwind’s.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Darkwind shot back, playing with his prey before going in for the kill.

  “Why, you little bastard!” scoffed Gobel. He reached for a flail, which was studded along its length, and could leave quite a mark on any surface no matter how hard.

  “C’mon, fat boy,” teased Darkwind.

  Gobel lunged forward, throwing the flail out. It extended, aimed straight for Darkwind’s beautiful mug. He raised his arm to block the attack, and the flail wrapped around his gauntlet. His powerful arm braced the flail’s grip while Gobel pulled taut. He dug his heels in to haul Darkwind toward him. Dammit, he’s strong.

  Darkwind now pulled with all his strength, which sent Gobel flying face-first onto the stone floor. At this point, Darkwind drew Helga.

  Falast and the others shared a moment of collective regret for their misdeeds. They were going to pay for what they’d done, and apparently with their lives. But who was this demon-of-a-vigilante who’d come to slay them?

  Gobel began crawling away. Darkwind stabbed him in the back where he lay. The others were now overcome with fear. Darkwind began hacking down one after another, until only he and the coward Falast were left.

  “Before I die, I want to know who hired you,” Falast groaned.

  “What does it matter? All I care about is collecting your soul,” Darkwind said.

  Falast, who was now armed with the whip and a dagger, sussed out Darkwind.

  “You can’t win,” Darkwind stated matter-of-factly.

  “I know,” Falast replied, right before plunging the dagger into his own neck. Blood spurted out like a fountain of wine. Darkwind grimaced. Touché.

  Having collected all the heads of the High Council, Darkwind headed back through the secret passageway to Borsk Bog, where his mount was patiently waiting for him. Darkwind immediately fed him a red potion of stamina, which revitalized the steed.

  Darkwind clicked his heels and spurred the horse in the direction of the Dusty Trails Inn. Oswic was in for a surprise, and Darkwind was about to make a killing.

  ***

  Daemon had to go AFK for a minute because she was getting annoyed with this whole grinding for souls business. She’d been at this game for over two years now and she hadn’t much progressed her character in the last six months. Once she unlocked the Lord of Chaos, it was rumored that her character would gain some crazy powers that would turn it into some kind of half-god, something she’d been yearning for all these long months. Other reports had it that she would reach the end of the game by doing so. No one really knew as no one had made it that far. And so she’d racked up literally thousands of PKs as Darkwind, but so far she had yet to see any sign of her deity. Why the hell wasn’t she able to progress? She must be doing something wrong, but what? What was she missing? For now, it was back to the grindstone and she couldn’t leave this Oswic thing unfinished. The way she saw it, he owed Darkwind a million in Mevalonic gold, and she was about to collect.

  ***

  Darkwind was on his way to the Dusty Trails Inn, just after dawn, when he came upon another rider, who was dressed in clean plate mail armor on a white steed, larger and more powerful than Darkwind’s. He wore a large broadsword at his hip, and he carried a shield with the Mevalonic crest on its face. Darkwind slowed to talk to him, and knew he might need to draw Helga in a flash.

  “It’s a fine morning. Where are you headed?” the rider asked.

  Darkwind pulled the reins. “Where I’m from, it’s customary that we introduce ourselves before we state our business,” Darkwind replied.

  “Fair enough. I am Nurox the Hunter,” the rider said.

  “Well, Nurox, ‘name’s Darkwind. You might’ve heard of me,” Darkwind said with an amused smile.

  Nurox’s eyes lit up as he reached for his hilt. Darkwind had already brandished Helga and the blade was locked onto him. All Nurox could do was fall backwards off his mount. His horse scattered, leaving him in the mud. So this was the guy who had challenged him on the message boards? Darkwind would let him simmer a little before he killed him. Always made the killing sweeter. Besides, he had more important business to attend to right now. And so he rode off in the opposite direction, laughing.

  As Darkwind continued towards the Dusty Trails Inn, he caught the sound of something in the nearby woods. It didn’t sound large, whatever it was. Darkwind sat for a moment, when out of the brush scurried a deermat, a small creature with long white hair and three caramel stripes running down the length of its back, and its tiny antlers protruded just above its ears. It ran straight for Darkwind.

  Next thing he knew, Darkwind heard a loud crash behind the deermat. A scourge, a reptilian creature the size of a man with the muscle mass of a tiger, shot out of the brush, its forked tongue chasing the helpless deermat. A bite from a scourge was indeed serious as its saliva contained a particularly nasty venom, which typically killed its victims that it didn’t devour. Normally, Darkwind would’ve watched nature play out, but at this moment, he felt like this predator needed to be shown who the real apex truly was.

  Darkwind dismounted, drew Helga, and dashed toward the scourge. The creature’s attention was focused on the deermat, which darted back and forth. Darkwind’s steed was skittish as it watched the scourge carefully. Then, Darkwind moved in and struck. Just like that, the scourge screamed and dropped to the ground. The difference in level was just too much for the poor bastard. Its carcass laid on the trail in a pool of blood. Darkwind knelt down to examine the corpse. Its scales could be useful to alchemists back in Mevalon. Noticing the deermat in his peripheral vision, he tried calling it over to him. Despite his frequent displays of violence and ruthless nature, Darkwind had a small soft spot in his heart (probably that this deermat resembled those cute animals Daemeon used to see at the zoo when she was little.)

  The deermat hesitated, but Darkwind persisted. When he was just about to give up, Darkwind remembered that he had some bread in his satchel. He removed the dry crusty bread and snapped off a piece. He put it on the ground and took a bite himself. The deermat’s nose shot into the air at the smell of the bread. It crept closer, eating the trail of crumbs that Darkwind sprinkled on the ground. Finally, the deermat came close enough to eat from his hand and Darkwind pet it.

  “Are we cool now?” Darkwind asked the creature. The deermat licked its lips and sat down like an obedient dog. It whined for more.

  “Okay, okay,” Darkwind replied as he fed it another chunk of bread, which it quickly choked down. Darkwind also gave it some water from his flask. “Well, time to go,” Darkwind said. The deermat just stared at him as he mounted his horse. “Are you coming with me or what? I’m a loner but animals don’t count, right?”

  The deermat sprinted from a stand-still and jumped onto the saddle and up onto Darkwind’s shoulder. “Now what shall I call you?” Darkwind pondered. “Max. I’ll call you Max.” The deermat squeaked out its species’ call, which sounded like a baby colt’s
cry. “Alright, then. Max it is.”

  Max held tight onto Darkwind’s cloak as the horse galloped on the trail. The Dusty Trails Inn wasn’t far now. They raced against the wind as Darkwind kicked his heels. He was excited to finally settle this deal with Oswic.

  ***

  His mud-splattered armor was stacked against a tree as Nurox hung his garments to dry. He sat on a stump and waited, pondering how he would face Darkwind. After all, he’d only heard stories about Darkwind, but seeing him first-hand was something entirely different. He definitely regretted challenging Darkwind at this point. He considered heading back home to Grenwick, a small farming town across the Daneli Plains, far west of Coronus.

  Nurox had spent his childhood dreaming of adventure. When Exalted Realms Online was released, Nurox was sure he would become one of the true champions of Half-World. A legend, like in his dreams. However, Nurox never truly flourished in-game. After more than a year and a half, Nurox had resorted to using a third-party mod to grind for him, something that gained him many levels of experience, not to mention getting decked out with the best that real money could buy. Nurox was essentially a terrible gamer. And apparently none-too-bright either. Challenging Darkwind was ballsy at best and suicide at worst. His accidental run-in with Darkwind only ended in Nurox’s humiliation and some muddy underwear. After his self-revelation, Nurox debated hanging up his armor for good, going back to Grenwick, and living out his virtual days in peace and privacy. (However, just because Nurox was signing off, didn’t mean the Darkwind was going to let things slide. A challenge is a challenge, plus Nurox had dug himself an even deeper grave by claiming to have once defeated Darkwind in battle.)