Playing For Keeps (Alpha World Book 4)

by Daniel Schinhofen

  Rolland gasped, staggering back and dropping to one knee as the barrier around him vanished. The rest of the raid began to push through the doorways as the frost encasing the undead cracked and fell away. Bolts began to bang off the tank’s shields as the undead regained control of their bodies.

  “We’re inbound,” Jaxton called out over the Raidstone.

  As the casters made their way onto the wall, they turned left or right and began to pepper the undead archers on the walls with spells. There were two undead caught in the box that the raid was funneling into. They were brutally cut down in short order, Tiny having aggroed them to give the damage dealers the chance to do their job.

  Alburet took stock of the situation once he got through the door. They currently held the tower building guarding their side of the courtyard. The two tanks in front and the two behind the raid were under a constant barrage, with the occasional arrow passing them and hitting someone in the raid.

  “Tanks, form up and be ready. As soon as Jaxton and the others get here we’ll be moving,” Alburet called out.

  “We’re inside,” Jaxton advised. “We took some bolts, but we lived through it. Climbing up to you now.”

  The shield bearers formed up along the flank that would be exposed to the courtyard, ready to move out. Once Jaxton and the others rejoined the raid, Alburet called out again. “Moving with Gerald, keep it steady so the rearguards can keep in time with you.”

  “Got it,” Gerald replied as he called out the cadence of the movement. “Left, right, left…”

  They began to move in a steady rhythm. As soon as they cleared the tower, the tanks covering their flanks came under fire from the archers further around on the walls. It sounded like the percussion section of an orchestra tuning up, as bolts were steadily deflected away from the raid.

  Alburet frowned slightly as he looked around. Rolland was limping along, with Kim supporting him. “Stacia, help Kim with Rolland, please,” he asked her.

  “Aye,” Stacia slipped through the raid to help Kim.

  As his eyes traversed the Keep he noticed two people standing atop the Keep, watching them. One was a tall individual in green full plate armor, radiating an intense aura of hate. Beside him stood a long haired blonde beauty who was smiling faintly, as if amused at their assault on the Keep.

  “Are those Gwain and Ophelia?” Karen asked from behind Alburet.

  “Seems likely,” Alburet replied. He pulled his eyes away from the duo on the Keep to see why they had come to a stop.

  Four Cursed Defenders stood before Gerald and Paladium. They had dropped their bows and were attacking with swords. The casters were able to launch spells into the undead, but the melee were unable to engage at all.

  “Gerald,” Alburet called through the Raidstone, “push past them. Let them into the raid. Melee these are yours, dog pile them.”

  Gerald grunted as he and Paladium shoved past the Cursed Defenders, taking a couple of wounds in the process. The melee, finally able to vent their frustration at this assault, attacked with ferocity. The undead were literally pulled to the ground and butchered. As soon as the four Cursed Defenders were dead Gerald called out the cadence again.

  It took almost an hour for them to clear the walls of archers. By the end of it, the healers had used some mana potions and the tanks had even used a few health potions. Back at the guard tower they had started from, Alburet called a break.

  “Okay, take fifteen minutes. Rest up, check your gear. If you need more potions, see Stacia,” he handed her his bag. “If you don’t want to rest, fine, go loot the bodies, please.”

  A couple of melee types who hadn’t gotten much action took off down the ramparts at a sprint to loot. Everyone else sat down to rest.

  Rolland sat near Alburet’s group, “I won’t be able to do that again today.”

  Alburet nodded, “Bloodline?”

  “Yes,” Rolland replied, his face still a little haggard from whatever he had done.

  “We’ll keep you back then, don’t strain anything. Also, I’ve been meaning to ask, how does this compare to that other Keep?”

  “There are way more mobs here,” Rolland answered as he took a sip from a flask Kim handed him. “We seem to have done okay, though it makes me wonder if there is an upper limit to how many mobs we will face.”

  “Good question. Wish I had an answer,” Alburet chuckled.

  “Did you see the people up on the balcony?,” Kim added.

  “Gwain and Ophelia, we think,” Karen told her. “Or at least a blonde and a guy in green.”

  “Boss and mini-boss?” Gerald asked as he munched on some jerky.

  “Very likely,” Marysue opined. “I wonder which is which.”

  “Ophelia orchestrated Gwain’s downfall,” Fluff reminded them. “Which means she is likely the boss.”

  “Point,” Alburet conceded. “We’ll find out once we enter the keep proper. It makes me wonder what kind of fun that’s going to be.”

  The others could only agree as each tried to imagine what they might face next.

  Stacia sat down next to Alburet, handing his bag back to him. “They be restocked, Asthore. I be thinkin’, it be odd tha’ the Cursed Defenders be only level eighty-five.”

  “Glad they were. It was tough enough whittling them down like we did,” Alburet replied as he rested his head on her shoulder.

  “Aye, but it makes me worry. I be thinkin’ tha’ was the easy part,” Stacia added.

  “You’re a ray of sunshine today,” Alburet chuckled. “We have no idea what awaits us inside, but that’s why it’s an adventure.”

  Rolland cut in, “I would hazard a guess that the next part is going to be considerably harder. So far, we’ve faced roughly ten times the number of mobs that I recall from the last Keep we assaulted.”

  “The last keep wasn’t guarded by mobs as leveled as these, either,” Kim made sure to add. “There was only one boss, and he cost us our friends. Makes me very wary of what’s in store for us here.”

  “Well, we’re about to find out,” Alburet added as he got to his feet, extending his hand down to Stacia to help her up. “Shall we see what trouble we can get into, dear?”

  “Iffin tha’ be ya wish. I be sure ya will keep me safe,” Stacia smiled as she got to her feet, entwining her hand with his.

  That seemed to be taken as a general signal that their break was over. In just a couple of minutes everyone was back on their feet, ready to go. “We’re about to assault the Keep proper,” Alburet announced out loud. “Ironhand, if you and the other Trapsmiths would take the lead to the door.”

  “On it,” Ironhand said as he walked towards the door that lead to the courtyard. He was followed by the other Trapsmiths. The rest of the raid followed them out, the tanks taking the lead.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Ironhand turned back to the raid, “The door isn’t trapped, as far as we can tell.”

  “Okay. Tanks to the front,” Alburet announced. “Gerald, you’re the lead for taking us in.”

  Chris, Paladium, and Jaxton joined Gerald at the massive front door of the Keep. On his count the four men pushed in on the doors. The hinges squealed piercingly as the double doors slowly swung back. The interior of the Keep was dark, with thick white mist two feet deep covering the floor. The entrance was as empty, and silent as a tomb. The only thing visible was a giant portrait on the right hand wall, draped with dusty cobwebs.

  “Looks deserted,” Gerald commented as the other tanks waited for his signal. The mist didn’t disperse, or drift through the open door, curling at the doorway as if stopped by a barrier. “That’s kind of creepy.”

  The others were inclined to agree. The mist moved restlessly, tendrils curling up out of it. “Well this is fascinating, but since it isn’t moving maybe we should,” Gerald finally said.

  He stepped into the Keep. His footsteps were eerily silent as he stepped into the mist.

  “Okay, it gets creepier,” Gerald gave a halfhea
rted laugh as he looked back at the rest of the raid behind them. “This reminds me of a dungeon, I can’t recall what it was called or what zone it is in.”

  “Oh, the undead one?” Jaxton returned, “It was in a forest zone, but I don’t recall the name either.”

  They moved cautiously into the hall. As they reached the end of the hall, they were able to get a better look at the portrait. Alburet guessed that the figure staring at them from under the thick layer of dust must be Gwain. The hall they were in opened into a large reception. Another set of double doors faced them across the area, flanked by stairways on either side.

  “That will be worth quite a bit,” Ioaniss murmured. “No portrait of Gwain is known to exist.”

  Gwain sat on a black steed in his green plate armor, his helm held in one hand. The strong jaw of the dark-haired man was his most prominent feature. The details were lost under the dust that was on the painting, so no one could make out the color of his eyes.

  The raid came to a halt as they entered the main room. There was plenty of room for them all to fit. “Alburet, which way?” Gerald called back.

  “I saw them on the roof, so probably up the stairs,” Alburet called back.

  As soon as the words left his mouth five members of the raid suddenly lashed out, attacking their guild mates.

  “What the fuck?” Brightlight snapped as DrBone hit her with a bolt of dark energy.

  Violet sent her minions after Marysue, while laughing manically. Friendzone, a Trapsmith, threw a number of traps at the healers. Chris turned, slamming his shield into Lambert then slashing at Gerald’s neck with his sword. The fifth person ended up being Fluffball, who leapt at Greenbeard, her skin red as her claws dug into his flesh.

  “Kitten, stop Fluff,” Alburet snapped as he took in the chaos that was engulfing the raid.

  Singing, the Succubus focused on Fluff, but her song didn’t affect the Berserker. “It does nay work,” Kitten called out, shocked that her magic was ineffective.

  As the attackers were being subdued, five more people suddenly turned on the healers. As the chaos continued to unfold, dark, hoarse laughter rang out through the room.

  “Welcome to my home. Enjoy your brief stay,” the deep, dry voice rasped.

  “Put them down,” Alburet called out, “or drag them out. Retreat out of the Keep,” The doors crashed closed behind them.

  “Oh, no, you mustn’t leave. It’s been so long since I’ve had guests. I won’t allow you to go,” Gwain’s voice echoed through the room.

  “Damn it,” Gerald raged as he battled Violet’s Destroyer. “Alburet?”

  “Trapsmiths, see about the door. Everyone else cut them down,” Alburet ordered as he grabbed at Fluff.

  The unaffected members of the raid focused on those who were attacking the healers. As Violet fell, the first to be cut down, her minions vanished. “We got her,” Leggylass called out. A second later, she turned and shot Marysue with an arrow.

  “Fuck, it’s spreading!” Panic gripped the raid as they fought, while the remaining Trapsmiths tried to find a way to get the door open.

  They cut down Friendzone and DrBone, but as those bodies fell two more of the raid turned on them. The battle raged by the doors, the Trapsmiths not able to get the door open. The raid was cut down one by one until only the ten people currently controlled by… whatever it was… were still standing.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” was the popular question as people respawned in the graveyard.

  Once Alburet respawned, he looked around to make sure the natives were all accounted for. Relief washed through him as spotted them all. “Roberto, are you holding up okay?”

  “We’re fine. Minor fights, nothing big. It looks like you’re having a rough time,” Roberto answered.

  The final ten guild members appeared in the graveyard. Everyone was upset at the wipe, and speculation was rampant about what had happened.

  “Take a break, guys. We’ll be holding a short officer meeting, then going back up,” Alburet told the raid as he set down his tent. “Officers, inside please,” he held the flap of the tent open, silently summoning Stacia inside the tent.

  Once the officers were inside the tent, Alburet followed them in. “Okay, so it was possession. Anyone have any ideas?”

  “Well, killing the possessed only freed the spirit to inhabit a new host,” Gerald said. “I can’t think of anything we can do, besides maybe subduing them.”

  “They might change hosts if held to long,” Karen put forth.

  “We have a couple of Shamans, but they don’t have the abilities they would probably need,” Marysue added.

  “And the door closes behind us, we don’t have an option to retreat,” Fluffball added, her face troubled. “I didn’t like the feeling of something controlling me.” She shivered as she thought about it again. Karen wrapped her in a hug, and the shaking slowly subsided.

  A knock sounded at the tent post. “May I enter?” Ioaniss asked.

  Alburet opened the flap, “Come on in.”

  Ioaniss stepped in, “I think I have an idea of what we encountered. Possessive Spirits, if I’m right. I’ve never encountered them myself, but I have read about them. They are impossible to kill though normal means. It is said that only light magic can hurt them. The stories I’ve read indicate that they are even damaged by it when residing inside a host.”

  “So, we heal them?” Karen asked as she held Fluff.

  “I tried that,” Marysue said.

  “You were healing them when they were injured, though,” Gerald mused. “Maybe they need to be undamaged.”

  “I think that is correct,” Ioaniss added, “the text said that the host had to be whole of body.”

  “Well, that gives us a plan,” Gerald said after a silent pause. “Do we try this again?”

  “We have a suggestion, which is more than we had before,” Alburet said as he got to his feet. “Let’s go kick some incorporeal ass and make Gwain our bitch.”

  The others got to their feet, nodding, their faces grim. “Make him pay,” Karen hissed as she put her hand out, palm down.

  “Kill him dead, or undead,” Gerald chuckled putting his hand on hers.

  “Healing, the other way to kill,” Marysue snickered.

  “To be my own person,” Fluff added, her voice hard.

  “For our friends, for the guild,” Stacia intoned, her hand joining the pile.

  “For history,” Ioaniss smiled as he added his own hand.

  “Alpha Company, blessed to be part of this world. For our friends and loved ones,” Alburet added, putting his hand on top of the others. “Time to Play for Keeps.”

  With a shout of “For Alpha Company!” they broke the huddle, filing out of the tent with new confidence. The waiting raid members turned to them, eager for any news.

  “We have a plan,” Alburet informed them. “Sir Jones has informed us of how to get past the Possessive Spirits. Are you all ready for round two?”

  “It wouldn’t be a raid without a wipe,” Ironhand stated loudly, earning a number of laughs.

  “Fair enough,” Alburet chuckled. “Form up, we ascend again to claim this keep.” He explained the plan as they climbed the path.

  The march back up the ramp was uneventful. Banthor met them at the top, visibly shocked to see them all. “Troubles?”

  “Hopefully we have them fixed now,” Alburet answered the Dwarf. “We’re about to try again.”

  Banthor nodded, “Good luck to ye all on yer next attempt.”

  “Thanks,” Alburet said, triggering the Raidstone. “Alpha Company, here we go. Remember, do not attack those who become possessed, just keep them off the healers. The trick is to heal the possessed, but they have to be at full life for it to hurt the Possessive Spirits.”

  He turned to face the instance gate, “Okay, take two.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Alburet let out a sigh of relief when the courtyard was still empty. He’d been afraid the mob
s would respawn and they’d have to start all over again. “Thank God.”

  “Tell me about it,” Gerald muttered from beside him, “I didn’t want to go through that again, either.”

  They grouped up outside the Keep doors, the four tanks in the front again. “Okay, folks. Remember, don’t attack the possessed. Don’t damage them if you can help it. Just stop them from getting to the healers. Is everyone ready?”