by Phil Tucker
“This is me as your shadow is you, a fragment, a figment of a broken collective. No, this is not me. That me is dead.”
“Agreed,” said Michaela. “Not good at all.”
The keep shook again, and a scream echoed down the stairwell, followed by a thunderous crash like a building toppling over.
“Lotharia, where are you? How can we get to you?”
“All roads lead to me. I am the center of the web. The shortest distance between two points is to fold the paper and punch a hole, but here that means tearing me in half. I’m sorry, Chris. Come to me and die.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “You’re the center of all this? What are you saying?”
“This keep is but a shell that contains broken multitudes. A labyrinth filled with madness. My arrival drove Xylagothoth to join with me. We are both greater than the sum of our parts. We hunger. Come to me, Chris. Free me by allowing me to consume you.”
And with that, her face withdrew into the wall.
“Freaky deaky,” said Falkon. “How about we say ‘no’ to that invite and come back tomorrow?”
The keep shook again and dust sifted down upon us. The sounds of fighting were even louder; the clash of weapons, the hoarse bellow of curses and commands.
“I don’t think we can,” said Michaela. “She made that quite clear.”
I gripped my Void Blade tightly. “No way out until we’re all dead or we defeat this Xylagothoth. It was listed as the owner of the keep.”
“Can we let the Beggars do the heavy lifting?” asked Falkon.
Lagash the orc warrior was thrown into view. She crashed into the elbow of the stairwell above us, bounced off the wall and dropped to all fours. The three of us stared, stunned into silence, while she growled, shook her head, rose unsteadily to her feet then charged back up.
“Uh,” said Falkon. “Maybe this one’s too heavy for them.”
“Come on,” I said. “I don’t think we can sit this one out. We’re going to need allies. Hurry!” Void Blade in hand, I charged up the steps.
14
I ran up to the bend in the stairwell and peered into the grand hall. It was now brilliantly lit up, ropes of golden flame rising from the top of each cut-glass lantern to arc under the roof into a swirling mass of incandescent fire. The crystals reflected and refracted this light in revolving motes that danced over every surface, and when one passed over my hand it seared my skin.
I hissed and drew my hand back, but instead of retreating, this only convinced me to climb higher up the steps. Spindly crab legs had emerged from the bald child’s muddy sphere to stab down at the floor, elevating it to a height of around three yards, while a ferocious array of serrated pincers and claws had punched out of its side. Its vertical maw was disgorging struggling shapes contained within amniotic sacks, and the boy’s head was screaming incoherently in something akin to pain or panic.
The Beggars were besieged by a small army of half-crustacean children, each complete with a scorpion stinger and still dripping with birthing fluids. These children were nauseating to gaze upon, all of them screaming like the original head, and all of them moved with lightning-fast staccato speed, leaping like facehuggers right at the Beggars.
Vanatos had summoned his angel, who was raking the ranks of the scorpion children with blasts of golden light while Balthus struggled to replace the wards around his companions that kept getting torn asunder. Lagash was the only one directly assaulting the mud fiend, dodging and striking at it from amongst its huge legs, while Delphina and Makarios fought to throw blasts of magic at it that had little effect.
In short, it was a shitshow I had no business in entering, but if the Beggars lost this fight we were all doomed. The sheer amount of lighting banished all the shadows, severely limiting me. Damn, but the light-quenching spell Evensong would’ve been useful right now!
No time for regrets. Gritting my teeth, I raced forward, running around the bulk of the massed scorpion children to circle around toward the mud fiend. One of them caught sight of me and veered in my direction, skittering at me with terrifying speed and then leaping for my head. I almost triggered Adrenaline Surge, but held off; its cooldown would kill me in here.
My every instinct was to dodge, but instead I gripped the Void Blade with both hands and slashed at the scorpion fiend just before it hit me, cutting it in two so that each half flew past me in a welter of milky blood. I kept running and activated Expert Leaper, taking off just moments before two more sprinted at my legs. Midair I activated Ledge Runner, and purposefully abused the power by trying to train it on one of the beams of fiery light that ran from a lantern to the central sphere of fire.
My boots pulled up toward the beam, and for three delirious seconds I ran upside down over the horde below, and then the talent lost traction and I fell. My ridiculous dexterity kicked in, however, and I turned my fall into a tumble so that I hit the ground rolling and came up before the mud demon.
Lagash roared as she parried a huge claw, knocking it aside with a sweep of a stone falchion. Then she leapt at the monster, slamming both falchions down upon its muddy side with such force the fiend actually staggered back, its multitude of crab legs scrabbling for purchase. A huge claw closed around the orc warrior, its serrated edges punching into her gut. Her blood burst forth, and where it landed on the demon it burned it like acid; the demon’s vertical mouth spat out another amniotic sack and then screeched in pain. With a flick of its claw it sent Lagash flying to crash into a far wall.
If I stopped to consider the power of the being I was about to face I’d lose my nerve. Just one hit would kill me. No time; no time at all. I summoned Night Shroud upon us both, activated Uncanny Aim and Distracting Attack as I hurled a knife at the child’s head, then Double Stepped into action.
The shadows claimed me a mere second before something swiped through where I’d been standing – did it have Darkvision as well? Then I was spat out high above it, falling with a mad laugh, Void Blade swooping down with Bleeding Attack added for extra juice.
The child’s head snapped up to look at me. Its screaming mouth spread grotesquely wide as it spat forth its tongue which elongated like a spear, streaking up toward me. Before I could Double Step away it hit a concave barrier of green light that flickered into life around me – Michaela’s Unholy Ward. I swiped my Void Blade through the tongue, severing it but missing my attack on the head. A claw whipped around as I completed my Double Step, appearing behind the child’s head once more and stabbing at it with my blade.
The mud fiend leapt straight up at me even as I fell toward it. One moment it was stationary, the next it was surging right up at the vaulted ceiling and ropes of fire. My blow was thrown off; Michaela’s Unholy Ward flared and then shattered, and just before I was crushed against the ceiling I Double Stepped away.
This time, I purposefully emerged on the edge of my Shroud, and took off sprinting through the mass of scorpion children, activating Adrenaline Surge for what would truly be a suicidal move without it. My feet took flight and I blew through their midst, dropping two Night Shrouds as I went. A line of fire opened up on my thigh, something stabbed into my calf, then I was amongst the Beggars. They stared at me, shocked, but I had no time for them – I wheeled around and cast Grasping Shadows on the mass of Night Shrouds and all the scorpion fiends contained within.
The enemy had been momentarily thrown off by the cloying darkness, but just as they were gathering their wits hundreds of small arms reached out of the shadows to clasp them by the arms, tails, and necks. Shrieks of frustration erupted as the scorpion creatures fought and bit and clawed at their constraints.
“Hurry,” I gasped, turning to the others. “I’ve got them locked. Focus on the boss.”
Vanatos gave a curt nod and the angel flew higher, interlocking four rings so that a blast of searing golden light flew straight into the mud demon’s body, carving entire chunks of its
corpus away. The cuts in my legs were ridiculous painful, but my periapt was already flooding my system with healing. Grunting, I moved into the closest Shroud and completed my Double Step into the Shroud that now lay behind the mud fiend. As I emerged, I saw that it was charging away from me toward the Beggars. Falkon was helping Lagash to her feet. Michaela was still in the stairwell, throwing Necrotic Bolts at the demon.
A massive bolt of flame zigzagged its way from Makarios’ fist into the fiend’s side, sending huge amounts of mud splattering but failing to halt its charge. A revolving circle of runes appeared around the child’s head only to be sucked into its mouth.
I had moments left of my Adrenaline Surge. The mud demon charged through the first Shroud covering its children, high enough that it could wade through without being completely submerged, and I took the opportunity to cast Ebon Tendrils. I directed my tentacles to grasp the fiend’s crab legs, and it tripped, knocked off balance, and crashed down to one side.
The angel unleashed another series of bolts upon the demon just as Lagash and Falkon charged into its side, blades whirling. Makarios fired off another bolt of fire just as Michaela caused a mass of writhing maggots of virulent green electricity to erupt around the fiend’s body.
Adrenaline Surge crashed and nausea wracked me – until a revolving circle of soothing blue runes appeared over my head. It sucked the pain and sickness out of me, neutralizing the cooldown. Never had I been so pleased. I ran forward. The Beggars and my friends were pummeling the mud fiend, reducing its bloated body to torn gobbets of muddy flesh. It tore its legs free of the Tendrils and tried to charge once more, only to have two legs hewn out from under it by Lagash. Falkon let out a roar that lifted my spirits a moment before he fended off a claw that was about to swoop down on the orc, and then I was in the Shroud, racing past the nd, swiping out at its legs with my shadow-formed Void Blade as I went.
I cut through four legs before I emerged out the other side, my blade not severing the legs but passing through their chitinous exterior as easily as a breeze, causing them to buckle beneath the fiend’s own weight. It fell again onto its side.
I turned, panting. The angel overlapped all six of its circlets and, with the sound of a full cathedral choir in song, it disintegrated the child’s head.
The mud demon sagged onto its side and went still, and the scorpion children deliquesced into milky pools of goo.
After a moment, I dispelled my Shrouds and turned to check on Falkon and then Michaela, assuring myself that they were fine. Falkon gave me a shaky thumbs up, while Michaela visibly forced her shoulders back and lifted her chin.
“Unexpected,” said Vanatos, turning toward me. His angel lowered to hover just above and behind him, its scarves and golden rings undulating as if underwater. “To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“She’s losing a lot of blood,” said Balthus, voice grim. He was kneeling beside Delphina. A cut had opened her from clavicle to hip.
Vanatos half turned to consider. “Can you save her?”
“We’ll see,” said Balthus, and wove webbings of runes over her wound, muttering and flicking his fingers as if knitting them into place.
Falkon and Michaela stepped up alongside me. Their presence bolstered my own confidence. “If she needs healing, I can help.”
Vanatos raised a perfect eyebrow in polite disbelief. “A darkblade with the capacity to heal?”
“No, a darkblade with a periapt of healing.” I pulled it over my head and extended it to him. “Here. Put this on her.”
He hesitated, eyes narrowing. “What’s your angle here? What’s going on?”
“Take the damn periapt,” said Lagash, voice a low snarl. “She’s fading. Fast.”
Vanatos did so, gloved hand closing delicately about the artifact as if expecting a trap, then holding it back out to Balthus without turning to look at him. Nobody spoke as Balthus slipped the necklace over Delphina’s head. The effect was immediate; the circling runes brightened and began to spin faster, and Delphina gave a sigh of relief and settled more comfortably on the floor.
“Hey, Vanatos,” said Makarios from his crouch. “Why don’t you ask the little shit why we don’t kill him and keep his gear?”
“Language,” said Vanatos. “But it’s a good question. You’ve been a thorn in our side since we got here. Why did you risk yourself for us?”
“I think we’re in this one together,” I said. “The keep’s been locked down. The only way out is through respawning after we’ve been killed.”
“Is that so?” Vanatos raised his hand and made a gesture, and his angel flickered out of existence only to immediately reappear. He turned to it in surprise and annoyance. “Teleportation’s blocked, at any rate. Perhaps he’s telling the truth. Balthus?”
The inquisitor looked up from Delphina. “I’ll have to see one of the blocked exits first.”
“How long till Delphina’s capable of walking?”
Balthus considered her wound. “Another twenty minutes.”
“Very well. We won’t split up. Time for a short rest. So, Chris.” He said my name with obvious disdain. “What else can you tell us about what’s going on here? How did you come by this information?”
Despite Vanatos’ proclamation, nobody moved to sit or relax.
“A friend of ours is trapped in here. An enchantress by the name of Lotharia. She appeared to us below while you were fighting and told us as much. From what I could gather, she’s joined with the owner of the keep. Something that goes by the name of ‘Xylagothoth’. I’d hoped it was that mud baby thing, but since we’re still stuck in here… I guess we’re not that lucky.”
“Yes,” said Vanatos, “I saw its name in the Castle Winter domains list. Any idea what it is?”
“No,” I said.
“Whatever it is,” said Lagash, the leather wrappings of her stone falchions’ hilts creaking as she tightened her grip on them, “we’ll kill it.”
“We’re going to have to work together,” I said. “That’s why we came up to help. The ogres we killed were level thirty plus, and they were scared of what’s in here. Had the place all boarded up. If we’re to survive this, we’re going to have to forget our rivalry.”
“Very well,” said Vanatos. “I concede that your aid wasn’t negligible in that last fight. I can find use for you. However, if we’re to work together, you will do so under my command. There cannot be any room for chaos or confusion on the battlefield. Am I clear?”
“To a point. It’ll depend on the command, to be honest.”
Vanatos’ expression tightened with displeasure. “So you’re to be a wildcard. That will hamper our effectiveness.”
Falkon laid a hand on my shoulder. “In all honesty, it’ll probably work to our benefit. Chris is at his best when he’s doing whatever he sees needs doing. Let’s just agree to cooperate and go from there.”
“Little shit’s got some moves, I’ll give him that,” said Makarios. “Question is, where’d he get all the elite gear from?”
I gave the battlemage a mocking smile. “Ever hear of Santa Claus?”
Makarios snorted in disgust.
“So that is why you’re here?” asked Vanatos, and for a moment I thought he was talking about Father Christmas. “To save your friend Lotharia?”
“In part,” said Michaela, her voice made hollow by her mask. “I work for Dread Lord Guthorios, and they’ve agreed to help me in my mission to pierce the ward that prevents NPCs from going below ground and discovering what lies at the heart of the dungeon.”
“Guthorios, hmm?” Vanatos crossed his arms over his still-spotless white coat. “Interesting. We’re allies, then. We’re working for him too. Our goals are the same.”
“What’ve you learned about what’s below?” I asked. “Have you found the entrance to the dungeons yet?”
“Yes. A simp
le trapdoor, but it’s been enchanted by this Xylagothoth. We can’t open it without removing his ward, and none of us were able to dispel it. Hence our desire to kill him and end his magic.”
“So our goals really are aligned,” said Falkon. “We all want Zai-Zai dead.”
“What do you know about the cause of all this?” I asked. “What did Guthorios tell you about how this situation came about?”
“The Beggars of Solomon have a policy of not asking too many questions,” said Vanatos with a hard smile. “It makes it easier for all manner of employers to give us work. Guthorios is paying us handsomely. Toward that end, I don’t really care what the quest setup is, or that this castle once belonged to the Cruel Winter guild and the treasure below has some meaning to them. To you, I suppose.”
“Must make it easy to just smash and grab,” said Falkon.
“Yes,” said Vanatos, his smile widening a fraction.
I wasn’t ready to let go. “So you know nothing about Archmagus Jeramy?”
“Just that he was the creator of the treasure.”
“And you’re not curious about this ward he put in place to keep Albertus and the Dread Lords out?”
“Honestly, do you question every quest’s setup? Obviously it’s just a means of forcing players into this adventure and explaining why the more powerful NPCs haven’t grabbed it. Simple.”
“All right. I guess you’ve got it all figured out,” I said. “Balthus. How’s she looking?”
“Better.” He reached out and tweaked his runes, causing several new ones to incandesce into existence. “The synergy between your periapt and my magic is very powerful. She’s healing faster than I expected.”
“What happens if you guys die?” I asked. “None of you are in Death March mode, right?”
“Of course not,” said Makarios. “Think we’re stupid?”
“We respawn back in Goldfall,” said Vanatos. “Without our equipment. So yes, there are some serious consequences to death for us, too.”
Conversation died after that, and we simply stood around watching the doorways that led deeper into the keep while we waited for Delphina to heal. Falkon stepped in close, gesturing for Michaela to lean in.