On the Lost Continent

by Andrew Novak

  Information messages scrolled across Jack’s vision:

  Your dark servant suffers from the cold, he loses 1 hit point…

  Your dark servant suffers from the cold, he loses 1 hit point…

  One goblin collapsed onto the snow.

  Your dark servant is frozen. Revive in 1 hour.

  A second crumpled immediately after the first.

  Your dark servant is frozen. Revive in 1 hour.

  The third goblin was stuck in the snow and its wailing became quieter and quieter, until the cold finally finished it off. Jack chased the little goblins back into the box and grasped the black sword more comfortably.

  The crossbows hadn’t come through. He’d have deal with this himself. So he ran. He swung and brought the first enemy down, weapon and all. A blow in one direction, then another… two more skeletons fell to pieces, bones rattling and time-worn chainmail clanking.

  Another step, then another. Jack made his way slowly through their ranks, cutting off their sword arms. A disarmed skeleton leapt onto him from behind and clung to his coat. Jack moved his elbow by chance and thankfully missed a thrust from a tarnished sword.

  You receive damage!

  You lose 4 hit points!

  Jack finished that opponent with two swings of his sword, turned and smashed the helm of one that was creeping up from behind. But new enemies were hurrying toward him.

  You receive damage!

  You lose 4 hit points!

  “Damn it, how many of you are there?!”

  Jack broke free from the ring of the Dead Warriors and ran. From the corner of his eye, he watched as new snowdrifts came to life to the right and left of him. Finding the skill icon Sprint, Jack accelerated and, leaving the hobbling snow-covered skeletons behind, rushed to the stone portal he had noticed among the snow drifts. An arch made from rough-hewn stones, beyond it — darkness. It was unclear where it led.

  Above the arch the snow piled high, like a huge white hat, three times as tall as a man. Icicles had formed over the gaping darkness icicles, massive and thick. And sharp as spear points. As he approached, Jack saw that the sloping floor leading into the darkness was blanketed with smooth ice. Water had once flowed inside, then frozen into a black mirror.

  The effects of Sprint ended and Jack struggled to pull his legs from the piles of snow. He had put a sizeable distance between himself and the skeletons from the initial fight, but the ones that joined after were at his heels.

  Running under the arch, Jack pushed himself off the edge of the snow-crust, jumped up and swung the Shadow of the King wide. Icicles fell with a silver ringing.

  The escapee landed on the smooth ice, the soles of his feet slid forward. He fell and flew into the darkness on his back. The falling icicles landed like an icy hail on the skeletons chasing behind and pierced their rusty armor and bones. Jack, gliding along the ice, briefly looked back. The ice spears had pinned his pursuers, rising vertically in a glittering glasslike lattice, and blocked the entire opening under the arch. Damn, but the script was good here ! He thought.

  The slide lasted about a minute, then Jack hit something ribbed, frozen in the ice, and stopped. The game considered it as a damaging blow and reported:

  You receive damage!

  You lose 4 hit points!

  Jack stood, sucked down a health elixir to be safe and looked around. Where had it brought him? The slope ended here where the floor was level. It was dark, but as usual in Alterra, the darkness was still bright enough to see about a dozen steps ahead. The only shame was that there wasn’t much to see here. Darkness overhead and ice underfoot.

  Jack crouched and ran his hand over some protuberances sticking out from the smooth surface. It looked like a huge beast frozen in the ice. And this had happened, of course, in prehistoric times, when the water flowed into the hall through the arch. The dead beast was rather large. Jack walked along the carcass, trying to identify the breed. Then he spotted the spread wings, pressed to the floor by narrow strips of ice. And the dog’s head. Had he found the eternal resting place of one of the Dogs of War? Interesting. But what had killed it, exactly?

  “Their fire was extinguished, wings broken,” he recalled Egghead’s story. The question was, how to extinguish their fire? Jack could manage breaking wings and other technical details himself. But what about fire? Fur protruded from under the ice. So, somehow the sorcerer Veseloth really had extinguished these burning creatures. He’d simply turned them into large and terrible animals, which were quite vulnerable and mortal.

  In the distance, a spot of light loomed, beneath which the ice glistened on the floor. And there was something frozen in the smooth mirror surface. Jack wandered toward the light. It was a hole in the dome, through which silver light pierced and enabled him to better discern yet another dead dog. Perhaps it was the War Hound itself that had shot through or burnt a hole in the roof, then fallen down here to meet its death. The creature lay on its side, wings spread flat and pressed against the ice, wrapped in cross-section strips of ice. There were a lot of these strips, like icy ropes. There were so many that they held the dog in the supine position, although each strip on its own was quite thin. How was it possible to make a rope from ice?

  Jack estimated the direction in which the War Hound had his neck stretched toward and figured that this was the direction he needed to go. The Dogs had been rushing to attack Veseloth. The direction the head was pointing was where he needed to look. Moreover, there were no other indications in the vast, dark hall to help him anyway.

  Attention! You suffer from the cold!

  You lose 1 hit point!

  Well, what do you know? Now, even the cold was going rob him of health? It was only one point at a time, however, best to speed up his explorations. He still didn’t know how to get out of this place. Jack went along more in the hope that the game would count a quick pace as a warming effect. He passed two more lit areas that marked holes in the dome. The second hole in fact, was rather wide.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere!” Jack said. “This is where Victorious Ged himself broke through to attack Veseloth.” Made sense. A big hole in the ceiling needed a big hero to make it.

  Attention! Cold envelops you!

  You lose 2 hit points!

  “Hey, damn you!” Jack protested, shifting into a run.

  Just what he needed — to die here from the cold. They might take an experience point and that meant bye-bye to Path of Blood. How would he get off this island then? Ahead, a bluish glow came into view, this time not from above. Well, not only from above, because there was another gap in the cave roof over this area, too, but the illumination was noticeably brighter than the starlight that penetrated from the outside.

  Jack ran with all his might and found himself in front of a round podium, around which stood tall columns carved from blue ice. The columns radiated a soft glow, from which bands of shadow and light wandered around the hall.

  Attention! The cold becomes unbearable!

  You lose 5 hit points!

  All traits are reduced by 10%

  You face icing over completely.

  “Shit!” Jack said.

  Everything here was ice. Apparently, Veseloth had used some form of cold magic completely unknown on Stoglav. In front of the podium was another hairy, frozen lump, chained to the floor with the same icy ropes. Another dead Dog. Jack climbed over the stiff carcass and went to the podium. Before him lay a skeleton in silver-embroidered blue silks.

  he focused on it, the inscription popped up:

  Veseloth Dark Ice Mage

  Something shifted from above, a large clod of snow fell and gently plopped onto the dead wizard. The skeleton moved. The information window above it changed.

  Veseloth Resurrected Dark Mage Expertise: 50 Disease: 60

  “Holy shit!” Jack swore again, “just what I needed. And me off my game…”

  The skeleton in blue silks stood up and raised its right hand. In it gleamed the icy cold light of a wand w
ith an orb at the tip. The wand turned in Jack’s direction.

  “Hey, man, we’re on the same side,” Jack stammered, backing away.

  Attention! The cold grips you!

  You lose 8 hit points!

  All traits are reduced by 15%

  You face icing over completely.

  Jack drew the sword… his movements had become slow, as if something were suppressing him. It was almost like wading through a thick layer of oil. Well, it looked like his traits had been reduced. And now he had to fight a revived dark mage like this! No, not fight. This required something else.

  Jack retreated another step and bumped against a post. He sidestepped it and cast a glance over his shoulder at what he’d hit. One of the glittering ice columns… with a cup at the top. A short, white tail stuck out forlornly from the middle. Looked just like a candle. But made of ice. It even had a little wick. Stop! Dark Necta called this restless undead the Keeper of the Icy Flame. But what if, actually, the extinguished Snow Flame was keeping the Keeper on edge?

  Jack hurriedly extracted Tinderbox from his inventory. FLASH! A few snowflakes broke loose from the Tinderbox and fell on the wick in the bowl. It worked — a tiny, swirling snowstorm whirled up over the ice pillar, like a flame over a candle.

  The restless undead froze and then Jack addressed him with as much respect as he could muster:

  “Listen, eh… Great Veseloth! Accept my respects, my Dark elder brother. Your Icy Flame has been rekindled.”

  The skeleton fixed its eye sockets on the swirling snowflakes, and Jack racked his brains to think of some heroic rhetoric to say.

  “Allow me to finish your work and kill the last of the Dogs of War. Give me your power!”

  The dead mage slowly stepped back, its skull swung, then it slumped, slipped on the ice and spread out in its former pose. The finger bones relaxed and the icy wand tinkled briefly as it rolled across the podium and fell. Jack picked up the artifact.

  New weapon added.

  Veseloth’s Wand

  Enchanted

  Class: Legendary

  Damage: Variable

  Durability: 22/27

  Available after level 50.

  In the corner of his field of vision a new icon appeared — a cold gleaming crystal.

  “And how does it work?” Jack asked the dead man.

  But the skeleton was silent, and the stats with his name were no longer there.

  Another snowball fell through the hole above, then was followed by a predatory, fuzzy muzzle, like a tiger, only more hairy. Uglier, too. The white, shaggy monster was large — its head eclipsed a quarter of the star-dotted sky in the opening. The beast bared its teeth and gave a throaty growl.

  Snow Beast Health: 90 Agro zone: 20

  Jack still edged away, slowly and stiffly.

  Ratface dropped gently, almost cat-like, onto the ice and stood between him and the podium, the white fur on its back bristling and its long tail lashing where it passed . The beast was clearly in hunting mode.

  The attempt to use the wand symbol in his menu led only to the tiny sparks on the drawn crystal, which appeared from time to time, to occur faster.

  “How am I supposed to fight with your little stick, huh? Veseloth!” Jack tried one more time, backing away from the Beast.

  The weapon icon flashed and the wand jerked in his hand. The orb on its end blazed with a swelling bluish light. Then the light bubble burst, spraying sparkling drops that unfolded into numerous legs, which instantly gained mass and turned into spiders. Ice spiders, each comparable with a decently-sized dog, scurried around the Snow Beast and launched glowing filaments at it, entangling the brute in gossamer threads of ice. The Beast surged, but the network of icy threads held strong. The spiders finished with their task, disappeared in bluish flashes. The fettered creature fell to the floor and twitched.

  And that was his answer! Veseloth must have set the ice spiders on the Dogs of War, which pinned down and extinguished the fire. After which, he could have easily killed Ged’s fiery beasties. And now the wand was operating, spitting out spiders like clockwork.

  Jack perked up and stepped to the prostrate predator, raising the Shadow of a King.

  “Mother Necta, accept a new sacrifice. I am not sure if this place will do as a crossroads, but I won’t find anything better here. Path of Blood, open! I want to return to the island.”

  Plunging the sword into the Snow Beast, Jack thought, I wonder how the Dark Portal works? He reached out to an icon with crimson droplets… Easy. In front of him, a map unfolded or, rather, two. The shape of the continent on one was familiar. Stoglav. The other map was unveiled only from one corner and on it. He could discern two islets and the outline of an unknown shore nearby. Places where Jack had made offerings to Dark Necta were marked with silver pictograms. Jack tapped the island closest to the gray, unexplored area.

  A blizzard of darkness and crimson drops whirled up before his eyes…

  When Jack opened his eyes, he was on the island. Except this was not Lahitte island. No temple to Astra, where the fiery beast wandered… no black silhouette of the demon schooner on the silver-flecked waves of the sea. Where had it brought him?

  * * *

  Jack took a couple of steps, eyeing the craggy cliffs that towered on all sides. Something clanked underfoot. He bent down and picked up a strange sword. The blade was bright white and almost shone under the light of Shadris. The shape of it was unusual, too. Wavy, both edges sharp. It looked like a spine, each protuberance like a vertebrae this was the bone sword! The one that Ruger had taken after defeating the giants!

  New weapon added.

  Theokrist’s Bone Sword

  Cold, one-handed Enchanted

  Class: Legendary

  Damage: Variable

  Damage type: Cleaving, slicing

  Durability: 20/29

  Available from level 40.

  Which meant quite simply, he’d selected the wrong island and tapped the island of Scands. This is where Ruger had fought the War Hound, lost, and dropped part of his equipment. He’d rushed, not paying much attention to which island to click.

  Well, yep, there was the destroyed city at the top. And there over the horizon, a reddish spot glowed, like the summit of a volcano. It was the temple to Astra on the next island, the ruins illuminated from inside by the heat of the War Hound. From the sky, a huge, winged shadow descended toward Jack. Well, at least it wasn’t on fire.

  A rush of wind, the huge animal dropped onto the rocks, wings folded . The gryphon named Beelzebub.

  “Jack, you disappeared on me!” Ruger bellowed, jumping down . “Here I was, fighting with that burning scum, trying different types of magic, nothing working.”

  Ruger crossed the rocks and stood in front of Jack, who had hastily tucked Theokrist’s Bone Sword into his inventory. What if he needed Theokrist’s full set?

  “That damned fiery brute took me out twice,” Ruger Eckerhart admitted, “and you just disappeared somewhere. I didn’t bother inviting anyone from Nightmare. Wanna deal with the beast myself, you know? But since you’re here anyway, make yourself useful.”

  “I had other business in reality,” Jack replied. “I couldn’t log into the game.”

  “But you’re here now!” Ruger, despite his several defeats, was full of enthusiasm. “Though, I don’t see it anywhere. I flew over the entire island and it must have wandered off.”

  Jack pointed out the red glow over the sea:

  “There’s a second island. I was there and the War Hound flew over there after me.”

  “War Hound? What’s that supposed to be?”

  “The War Hounds from Ged’s retinue. Long story.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Now that you’re back in the game, you can spend a couple minutes on me,” Ruger apparently was displeased with Jack’s answer. “And then we’ll deal with the Hound.”

  “But in reality…”

  “To hell with reality! There’s no business in reality mo
re important than dealing with Ged’s beast. If, of course, you’re not lying to me and it’s not your personal pet. Yes, Gaerthon is indeed full of wonders. A personal beast of Ged himself, the god of war! You’re going to fight it with me.”

  “But, Ruger, I’ve got…”

  “Save it. ”

  “They killed Lisa.”

  Ruger went silent. Usually, he was a confident man who spoke without much thought, regardless of others’ objections or offense. Was it possible that he now simply didn’t understand? Jack added:

  “In reality. They killed her. For real.”

  And here Ruger exploded. Instantly, he was in Jack’s face and grabbing him by the throat:

  “In reality? And you? Where were you? And now you just log into the game like nothing happened? They killed Lisa, killed your woman! And you decided to play?”

  You receive damage! You lose 2 hit points!

  Jack locked his hands on Ruger’s arms and yanked them forcefully from his throat.

  “I fought them, killed a few. I’m dying now, too, you hear? Yeah, I logged in to play because I need a way to survive. To take revenge. There’s no necromancy in real life. I can’t raise the dead. But that bastard who killed her, I will kill him. Except, to do it, I need a cure and it won’t be cheap. Alterra is my best hope to earn some cash.”

  The necromancer kept silent. He’d rarely had to concern himself with details like earning money in Alterra. Finally, he said:

  “I see. So, I’ll have to deal with the War Hound myself.”

  If Jack could get Ruger’s help, he had a chance. He just had to bring the old man around carefully. Ruger was indifferent to everything except his own whims. It hurt to need him for this! Although he hadn’t been completely indifferent to Lisa — he’d even declared war on Maksitor when she fled. But right now, they weren’t talking about Lisa, were they? It was about Jack. And he didn’t give a damn about Jack. Jack needed to entice him somehow.

  “I’m sorry, but without me, it’s not going to work,” he said very carefully.

  The retired general stared at him, and Jack began to worry whether this might send him into a rage. He’d tried to be diplomatic. Kind of. He continued: