“Meton! That's Talon! He's coming for you!” Thorrin stood atop a crenelation, pointing at Menton. His laughter echoed from the wall, as the Thug Horde army began to turn toward the source of the cacophony behind them.
Seeing Talon's grin, as his eyes followed Thorrin's pointing finger, Thorrin jumped off the wall and ducked behind the crenelation. A storm of arrows slammed into the wall, where he was hiding, or sailed off into Emer Valley, behind him.
Thug Horde's ranks became disorganized, as they turned in ones and twos to try and stop the engine of death that was carving a path through their center. The Thugs who tried to attack Talon's back, found their bones shattered by kicks and elbows, when Talon would suddenly reverse the direction of his movement. Always moving and always attacking, Talon kept the Thugs from boxing him in or being able to bring more than a few attacks to bear at any one time. The Thugs had to constantly be wary of hitting their comrades and could not attack freely.
The Umbral Sorcerers in the front ranks released their spells, and tentacles malignant darkness began to unfold towards the wall. Casters on the wall tried to block the tentacles with a variety of magical shields, but the darkness dissolved them all.
Staring fearfully at the approaching tendrils of Power, the defenders were milling around. Thorrin knew that it would only take the smallest of pushes to break them, but he had no way to steady them.
Talon, you have to disorder that army enough for me to take advantage of it.
The Umbral Power reached the walls and began to eat through the stone. The former players looked around wildly, many of them looking ready to flee.
“HOLD STEADY, DAMN YOUR EYES! IF YOU RUN, YOU DIE! THE UNDEAD ARE ALREADY ASSAULTING THE NORTH WALL! THERE IS NO PLACE TO FLEE!” Thorrin's bellow echoed form the steep stony ridges on either side of the valley.
Talon was already half way through the Thug Horde formation. Menton was looking in the direction of the approaching Half-Dvergar, an uneasy look on his face.
Thorrin frowned maliciously, waiting for the right time to sortie. If he moved too early, he and anyone with him would be overwhelmed. Only when Talon had drawn enough of Thug Horde's attention would a sortie succeed.
The sound of footsteps on the ramp behind him made Thorrin turn. His brow furrow with irritation. The members of the Rainbow Society had vocally declared their intentions to sit out the battle. Their Society was made up of dozens of small clans, as they called themselves. Each clan was made entirely of the same sex with a patriarch or matriarch in charge. They were all boisterous proponents of their rights to special status as homosexuals.
“What are you doing here, Herodotus?”
Herodotus was a man with a late middle-aged appearance. His thin features and pale skin gave him an unhealthy appearance. Supposedly, a history professor in real life, he was the undisputed leader of the Rainbow Society members trapped by the Great Fuck Over.
“We are here to help.” Herodotus' manner suggested that he was doing something thoroughly beneath his dignity.
Thorrin sneered, not bothering to hide his dislike nor his disgust. “Then get your . . . people up on the walls.”
Turning back to watch the enemy before the walls, Thorrin saw a dozen of the Rainbow Society members spread out across the walkway above the gates. They had drawn their weapons, but many of them were so nervous they could not keep their weapons from quivering, as they tried to look everywhere.
When Thorrin felt the points of two swords against the sides of his neck, the Rainbow Society members around the gates viciously attacked the people around them. Many of their targets fell, but the others fought back. The people Thorrin had gathered to protect the gates were among the toughest of the former players at the southern wall.
“Order everyone to surrender to Menton.”
Thorrin turned his head toward Herodotus, the swords pressed against his neck drawing blood. “What do you faggots think you're doing?”
Herodotus sniffed. “Making sure that bigots like you are removed from power. You scoffed at us demanding the rights accorded us under US and European laws, but Menton is an enlightened leader, who will give us the respect we are entitled to.”
Thorrin spat in Herodotus' face. “Stupid faggot, we expect you to earn what you receive. Menton will make you think Middle-Eastern jihadists were the worlds biggest supporters of homosexual rights. Thug Horde used to have competitions to see who could hunt down and torture the most homos.”
Wiping the phlegm off his face, Herodotus looked down his nose at Thorrin. “Your words are a clear example of your bigoted hatemongering. You cannot even speak respectfully to me, and you expect me to give credence to your words. Menton apologized profusely for the old leadership's detestable actions and has curtailed the practice.”
Herodotus winced, as Thorrin turned his head to look around the gate platform, cutting deeper wounds into his own neck. Except for Herodotus and the two with swords to his neck, the rest of the Rainbow Society members on the platform were too injured to fight or dead. The only things that kept Herodotus and his two lackeys from being attacked were the swords at Thorrin's neck.
Thorrin's frown was murderous, when he turned his head back to Herodotus. “Looks like you three faggots are all that's left. I don't think those ball-less bitches down below are going to be much help to you. Tell your two pansies here to drop the swords.”
“If you do not order your collection of cretins to surrender, we will kill you.”
“Then kill me.”
Herodotus stared at Thorrin agape.
“What's the matter? Did you think I was a gutless homo like you? Kill me, if you have the balls to do it, but you'll be dead within seconds. The Hammers won't let a bunch of faggot traitors get away with murdering me.”
“Steel is stubbornness.” With Thorrin's mumbled words, his eyes glowed faintly, and he looked at the swords against his throat. With a whiplashing motion, the edge of shield and his axe blade struck the swords piercing his neck.
Clang-clatter. Clang-clatter.
The shattered fragments of both swords lay on the stone of the walkway.
“What kind of a moron gives a Master Smith time to do as he wills to a weapon. Send these faggots to Menton, since they love him so much!”
Thorrin dropped his axe into the hangar on his belt, and grabbed Herodotus by the front of his robes. With a twist and a grunt, Herodotus' body was sent flying over the crenelations of the wall.
*** Tallifer (City of Tallifer) - Battleground of the Damned ***
Return: Day 134
The plaza in front of The Postmen's tower is as busy as ever, but different from a normal day, there is a man standing near the doorway, with The Postmen' logo embroidered into his grey surcoat. Beneath the surcoat, he is wearing silver chainmail, and he is carrying silver washed spear. As we approach, his eyes are fixated on Perzey.
“You the envoy?”
The man's stare shifts to my masked face. “You're Brand I take it?”
“I'm sure the old faggot gave you my description. Who are you?”
The man frowns, hostility visible in his eyes. Strangely, the hostility shifts into satisfaction, after a moment. “I'm Trantor. I'm a troubleshooter for The Postmen.”
The Postmen's troubleshooters are supposed to all be badasses. I do not know if it is accurate, but supposedly, it is impossible to kiss-ass your way into the position.
“You have my money?”
Trantor takes out a rather large leather pouch and hands it to me.
After opening the drawstring to make sure that coins are golden boats, I do not bother to count it. I really do not care about the money, or if The Postmen are trying to cheat me. The only reason I am doing this is to get an easy boat ride to Jinmu's base.
“I need to buy a party charm, before we leave. Where is the nearest location to get one?”
Trantor points over his shoulder, with his thumb. “Inside at the main counter. The Postmen deal in most of the common player inven
ted items. Our people were heavily involved in the research project for the party charms, whisper charms. and guild bracelets.”
I knew they were involved in the research, but I never know you could buy them at the post offices. After all, I never did pay enough attention to what most of the other players were doing. Thug Horde and their trash feeder guilds were the only ones I ever kept tabs on, and that was just so that I would have a better idea when they would be coming after me.
I walk over to the main counter, with Perzey at my side. Standing in the doorway, Trantor's reflection is visible in the crystal cover of a bulletin board. His glare is more hostile than the one he initially gave me. Something is not right here, but what is it?
The girl behind the counter is barely over five feet tall and slightly built. Most anyone would consider her pretty, and her professional smile is perfect for a customer service position. After a quick glance between Perzey and myself, her eyes settle on me.
“Welcome, sir. How may I help you this fine day?”
“I need to buy a party charm.”
The girl's smile broadens and she take out a display box from under the counter. “We have a number of styles.”
I gesture at the case. “Pick what you want.”
Perzey's looks at the box, and points to a bracelet. After the girl takes it out a fastens it on Perzey's wrist, Perzey holds it up for me to look at.
I shrug. “If that's the one you want, it's fine.”
Perzey frowns, and turns to the girl. “Which is most expensive?”
The girl's smile threatens to turn into a smirk, before she schools her face into a bland mask. She reaches into the box, taking out a pendent in the shape of an eight pointed star, with red gems in the center and yellowish gems along the rays.
“This is made from pure platinum. The center stones are rubies and the outer ones are yellow diamonds. It costs eight hundred golden boats.”
Perzey gives the girl the bracelet and takes the pendant, turning to me. “Perzey wants this one. Brand told Perzey to pick the one Perzey wants. Brand sucks, so Perzey wants this one.”
I take out the bag of coins that Trantor gave me and count out eighty stacks of ten golden boats each. As the girl watches me, her face maintains the professional smile, but she cannot hide the greed in her eyes. She must get a commission from what she sells.
“Thank you, for your business, sir.” The professional smile is not quite so professional at the moment.
Perzey holds the chain with the charm on it out to me. “Put this on Perzey.”
I take off my gauntlets and drop them into a dimensional storage.
After releasing her grip on the chain, Perzey turns around and pulls the waterfall of hair away from her neck. The clasp is rather small even with my bare hands, but I can feel the strength in the chain.
“Steel is cruelty. Steel is pain.” I whisper the words under my breath.
The chain has been Patterned, but it is a different pattern from the charm. Considering the feel of platinum chain, its pattern is meant to strengthen it to an obscene level. As impressive as the chain is, I could probably duplicate it. The party charm is a whole different animal. I do not even know where to start to begin unraveling that pattern. The people who designed the party charms have knowledge far beyond mine or Roderick's.
Thorrin was supposed to be part of the group that created the whisper charms, party charms, and guild bracelets. Once I get out of the Labyrinth of Yggr, I need to take the time to talk with him.
Perzey turns around, grinning at me. She touches the locks holding my mask in place and pushes it up. The locks are specially attuned to me. She should not be able to manipulate them, and I cannot see how she is doing it. When we are alone, I will have to get her to demonstrate the technique for me.
Turning her head so that she does not bang her face on my open helm, Perzey kisses me. I do not hesitate to return it, but I keep my eyes open. We are not in friendly territory.
The girl behind the counter has a look of disgust on her face, as she stares at the scars on my face. She is one of the Possessed, her pattern has the same distinctive gaps as Perzey's used to, the gaps of a mind and soul out of sync with the body.
Dropping out of Jinmu's group, I create my own. When I invite Perzey, she accepts with a broad grin. We can rejoin Jinmu's group when we need to.
As I turn back to the entry, Trantor averts his eyes, but not before I have the chance to get a good look at them. His lust filled eyes had been glued to Perzey. He wants my woman. Fuck him. Perzey belongs to me.
“Take us to your courier ship.”
Trantor stares nonplussed at my face for a few moments, before his gaze flickers to Perzey. He turns away and starts walking.
“Follow me.”
Lowering the mask over my face, I follow. Perzey walks at my side, with a pleased smirk on her face. Her humming reminds of a song I heard playing on peoples phones and watches, when I was a college student. It has been too long for me to remember the name of it, if I ever knew it in the first place.
* * * * *
The Postmen have a private wharf in one corner of the harbor. I do not know whether they rent or own it, and I really do not care. Each time I visited Tallifer in the past, there were always four of five ships docked there. They were normally small schooners.
While Battleground ships come in every class and size of non-mechanized ship known on Earth, and some not known on Earth, schooners are the most popular ship in Tallifer. I am not an expert on sailing ships, but I do know that schooners are among the faster ones.
Trantor leads us onto a ship that is about sixty feet long. It has a crew of only ten men plus a captain.
“Sir Trantor.” The captain salutes him as he boards.
“Captain, are you ready to set sail?”
“We can sail at any time, Sir Trantor.”
“The get us underway.”
“Aye, sir.”
*** Tallifer (Divine Wind's Fort) - Battleground of the Damned ***
Return: Day 136
The Tallifer zone is an entire world, that is about 90% ocean. Tallifer Island is not the largest island, but it is by far the most populous. Twelve fixed destination teleport gates surround Tallifer Island. All of them are over the horizon, even when you are at the top of the tallest of the city's cylinders. Inside the ring of teleport gates there is no land other then Tallifer Island.
In the far north of the world of Tallifer, there an unlimited teleport gate. The only problem with an unlimited teleport gate is that it can only take you a teleport gate that you are already attuned to, and that means you can only travel to places you have already been to. I may or may not be attuned to the places I once went as Talon, since I do not know if the required attunement is of the body, mind, soul, any of the three, or all of the three.
Outside the ring of teleport gates are hundreds of other small islands, and Jinmu has made one of those his base. If Jinmu's island has a name, I do not know it, nor do I particularly care to. It is not a large island, maybe ten or twelve miles long. The west and south are mostly cliff and a small mountain. The entire island is likely the top of an otherwise underwater mountain.
A small town on the east side appears to survive by fishing and cultivating the land around it. They probably have a trading ship or two that ply the lesser routes along one or more of the trade corridors as well. Most small towns on this world have at least one such ship.
Jinmu's base is in a ruined fort, that has been partially restored, built on the southern face of the mountain. Below the fort, there is a small sheltered bay, with a pier carved out of the cliff side. The courier ship is currently moored at the wharf.
I did not recognize the people who met our ship at the wharf, but they clearly were familiar with Trantor. He did not introduce Perzey or myself, and I had no interest in making our identity known to them either.
As we pass through the fort's gate, a well ordered training scene opens up in front of us. There are
nearly a hundred people engaged in small unit drills. Separated into squads of six combat adepts and one or two casters, they are engaged in drills or squad vs squad sparring. Another fifty or so people are engage in various non-combat tasks: preparing food, cleaning clothes, equipment maintenance, and one Smith forging a new sword.
A group of thirteen people are gathered in the northeast corner of the courtyard, where Jinmu is conducting strategy or tactics lessons at a sand table. According to Jinmu, the Japanese have long had the opinion that business is war. He is an expert in works on tactics and strategy, such as A Book of Five Rings, Thirty-Six Stratagems, On Guerrilla Warfare, The Rommel Papers, and The Art of War.
Turning his head, Jinmu sees us entering the gate. Saying something to his students, he walks toward the gate. Even though he is smiling, his expression seems a bit strained.
Stopping a few feet in front of Trantor, Jinmu nods. “Trantor. Have you been well?”
Trantor's eyes flicker in my direction, before he says anything. “As well as can be expected. We have a job, that we would like you to undertake. Our intelligence indicates that Brand will be invaluable in completing it.”
Sulius gave the impression that The Postmen have never worked with Jinmu before, but Trantor seems quite familiar with him. Something is not right, but what game are The Postmen playing?
Jinmu claps me on the shoulder. “This armor looks well made. You completed your training as a smith?”
I take off my helm and put it in my belt pouch. “I've learned everything Roderick had to teach me. We can head for Alkhalazen's Demise, whenever you're ready.”
Jinmu grins. “Then, we should have a party.”
Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God Page 37