Riley looked at him, realization dawning in her eyes as she processed his questions. Then she turned back to the imp. “Hey, Pint.” The imp’s head turned to her. “If you leave the city, can you still access your rock?”
Pint nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Rock always with me.”
Riley smiled. “Is it possible for you to communicate with the people here in the city through your rock?”
The imp looked thoughtful for a moment. “I not try before. But I teleport to rock!”
Rex looked back and forth between the imp and Jason. He raised a hand to ward off Jason’s explanation. “I may be brainless, but I’m not stupid. I get it. You’re going to go to the dungeon by yourself and then send the imp back if you need reinforcements. It’s a good plan.”
“At least if we don’t take the army, there’s less risk that the other travelers will know we’re heading north,” Riley said with a faint note of relief. She was clearly thinking about the ambush in the street the day before.
A strange look crossed Jason’s face at Riley’s words. An idea was forming in his mind. It was ridiculous and stupid. However, that had worked for him so far, so why stop now? However, he wasn’t certain that either Frank or Riley would agree to help him if he told them the plan - better to keep it to himself for now.
Jason turned back to Riley. “I suppose it’s a good thing that the players won’t know where we’re going,” he replied.
He looked at the group. “Well, I think we’ve decided on a plan. Frank, Riley, and I are going to go check out this dungeon. We’ll also try to conquer Peccavi while we’re at.” His gaze moved to the Shadow Council. “Do you guys think you will be okay while we’re gone?”
Morgan answered him with a derisive laugh, “We were doing fine long before we met you. We’ll manage.”
Rex chuckled at Morgan’s comment, causing his jaw to clack together. “I remember that I used to have skin before I met our dark lord here. It was kind of nice. Although I do like the part where I don’t bleed anymore. It makes the sword practice easier.”
Jason smiled. “Good. How about you, Jerry?”
“These two are callous braggarts, but I don’t mind telling you my true feelings.” He looked up at Jason with sad, milky-white eyes. “My heart will wither and die without you here.” He hung his head in mock despair, his hand swiping at an imaginary tear.
The group just stared at him for a moment.
“I-isn’t your heart already dead?” Frank asked tentatively.
Jerry looked up with a mischievous grin. “Right you are my colossal compatriot. You wear the armor of a warrior, and yet you have the mind of a scholar!”
Frank frowned at the thief. “Careful with the weight jokes, or I may sit on you again.” A brief look of horror crossed Jerry’s face before he could control his expression.
Jason clapped his hands. “Anyway… I think we’re done. Let’s call this meeting to a close and go get ready.” A grin of anticipation curled his lips. “I think this trip is going to be a lot of fun.”
Chapter 8 - Enlightening
After his conversation with the Lady, Alex continued preaching on street corners throughout Grey Keep. No further memories resurfaced when he used the healing spell the Lady had given him. He was thankful for the respite, not wanting to repeat the panic attack he had experienced in the alley.
A middle-aged woman now stood before him, her eyes drifting worriedly to her young son beside her. The boy was barely able to stand, leaning against his mother heavily. He would occasionally let out a hacking cough that left spots of blood on the hem of his shirt. Alex eyed the boy, and the faint image of his sickly mother flashed through his mind. He clung desperately to the hollowness in response, trying to force down the images that threatened to reemerge.
“Hello, prophet,” the woman said in a respectful voice, bowing slightly. “My name is Adria, and this is my son Ryan. Can you please help him?”
“Of course, Adria,” Alex said graciously as his hands began their mechanical dance through the motions of the spell. His lips murmured a quiet prayer to the goddess, more for the woman’s benefit than to complete the spell. The boy’s body convulsed as Alex finished casting and he coughed violently, his lungs clearing themselves of whatever sickness had once filled them. Then the boy lifted his head, his eyes now clear.
Adria looked at Alex gratefully as she clung to her son. “Thank you, sir. May the Lady bless you for your service,” she said reverently, bowing her head. The crowd behind the woman looked on with awestruck expressions, and Alex could hear a soft murmur.
Even with the adoration of the crowd, the strange warm sensation failed to appear. Alex wasn’t certain what had changed, but only the numb void echoed in his mind. He hadn’t felt the familiar glow since the flashback of his mother.
Alex’s lips twisted into a strained smile as he looked at the woman before him. The gesture was driven by pure force of will rather than any true sense of pleasure or happiness. “It’s nothing. I’m merely the Lady’s servant.”
The woman and her son moved on. As Alex watched the pair walk away, he caught sight of a balding man approaching him. The man had an arrogant air about him. He walked with a confident stride, not sparing a glance at the line of injured and sick that stood before Alex. He was wearing a luxurious robe made of purple silks and satins that stood out in stark contrast to the meager attire of the peasants around him.
As he neared Alex, the bald man eyed his dirty clothing contemptuously before painting a friendly smile on his face. He spoke loudly for the crowd’s benefit, “Hail, traveler. Are you the one that the people are calling a ‘prophet’ of the Lady?” His eyebrows rose ever so slightly as he referred to Alex as a prophet.
“This is the one you’re looking for,” a man in line called out. “He carries the Lady’s light!”
Alex mustered another humble smile. He anticipated that the bald man was a priest. He must have come to make Alex an offer of some kind. The whisper in the back of Alex’s mind urged him to slay this arrogant fat fool. Alex forcefully tamped down on the impulse. That would not serve his current purpose.
“I believe I may be the one you seek,” Alex said, bowing his head deferentially and assuming a modest pose. “However, I do not consider myself a prophet; I merely serve the Lady’s will.”
The priest looked at Alex with cold eyes before replying, “I am Sebastian, head priest of the temple devoted to the Lady of Light. I saw the blessing you just bestowed on that woman’s child and the work you have done for this city.”
Beads of sweat appeared on Sebastian’s forehead, and he dabbed at the moisture with the hem of his sleeve. Perhaps he was not accustomed to standing in the sun in his thick robes. Sebastian continued in a loud voice, “I would like to invite you to speak in our temple. A devoted disciple such as yourself should have a voice in our congregation.”
The whisper in the back of Alex’s mind immediately changed its tone, issuing a malevolent purr of approval. This was a perfect opportunity to forward his goals. Alex mustered his face into a penitent expression. “That is an overwhelming offer,” he said. “I gratefully accept - anything I can do to spread the Lady’s word.”
The bald man smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He stepped closer to Alex, speaking in an almost inaudible voice, “You put on a good show. Come in a day’s time. We will hold Sunday mass. Be warned traveler, there will be no place for charlatans or fools in my temple.”
A grateful smile appeared on Alex’s lips. “I wouldn’t dream of disturbing your mass. However, I believe you may have misspoken. Surely you meant to say the ‘Lady’s temple’ is no place for charlatans or fools.”
This elicited an angry scowl from Sebastian. “Either way, you should tread with care, traveler.”
Alex’s face maintained its peaceful smile as he watched the old fool walk away. He was already considering how he might take advantage of this windfall.
***
After the meeting in
the keep, Riley and Frank left to handle some errands around town. They needed to stock up and equip themselves before they started their journey to Peccavi. The group had agreed to meet at the north gate in a couple hours. If they hurried, they could make good time before Riley and Frank needed to log off later that evening.
Before he left the keep, Jason took some precautions. Not trusting the players that roamed the city, he converted one of his zombie soldiers to a lieutenant. He then handed the new lieutenant an extra hooded cloak from his pack. The zombie was instructed to behave like Jason and respond to his name. He then ordered his other zombies to collect around the poser zombie in a defensive formation.
Surveying his work, he was happy with the result. Anyone seeing the group would immediately assume that the individual in the center of the party was Jason, flanked by his zombie army. He kept two of the stronger soldier zombies for himself and then ordered his decoy group forward.
Jason first headed to the training grounds to observe the progress of the city’s army. As he made his way around the city, he maintained a sizable following distance from his poser zombie, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
The training grounds were much as he remembered them, a large flat circle of dirt dotted with straw dummies. However, unlike what he had witnessed during his first day in-game, Rex had put the players and NPCs to work. The dummies were largely ignored in favor of live sparring matches that littered the field. The movements of the NPCs and players were also more calculated, and Jason observed that they were moving through an intricate series of attacks and parries.
As he walked into the circle, Jason noted that Rex was currently surrounded by new recruits. From this distance, Jason could identify some of the NPCs he had raised after the battle with Alexion’s army. They were easy to spot since they still wore armor emblazoned with the livery of Grey Keep and its noble houses.
Rex glared at the undead around him. “So you lot don’t want to work, do you? You think you have it rough because our dark leader raised you and conscripted you to defend our city?”
He gazed at each man evenly, receiving sullen looks in return. “Well, let me tell you, Jason gave you another godforsaken chance at life. If not for him, your bodies would still be cooling on the ground. Not only that, but he made you stronger and faster. You can run all day without getting tired and drink half a keg in an evening! You want to give that up?”
Most of the group looked down at the ground in contrition. Yet one man spoke up, “That’s all well and good, but why should we follow a faceless tyrant? Should we be happy with these rotten bodies we have now? And why the hell should we take orders from you?”
“Ungrateful wretches,” Rex muttered. In a louder voice, he replied, “You take orders from me because I happen to command this misbegotten army.”
Then Rex hesitated, an idea occurring to him. “You know what, why don’t I make you an offer? If you can best me in combat, you don’t need to take orders from anyone. Hell, I’ll even put you in charge.” Rex’s hand waved at the troops around the grounds, many of whom were swiftly losing interest in their sparring matches as they turned to watch the scene playing out in the center of the grounds.
“Fine by me, old timer,” the undead responded darkly.
With a roar, the man rushed forward with his sword raised. Rex stood still, his arms crossed casually before him as he eyed the approaching man with a bored expression on his skeletal face. As the zombie’s blade was about to strike him, Rex moved a fraction of an inch to the left, the blade barely grazing his cheek and swiping at air. As his opponent’s momentum carried him past Rex, the skeletal warrior struck. Rex’s sword whipped from its scabbard and struck the back of the zombie’s exposed legs. The man dropped to his knees with a grunt of pain, and his weapon tumbled to the ground beside him with a dull clang.
Rex walked calmly in front of the man, eyeing him with disdain. “Pathetic.” He leaned in close to the recruit, looking him in the eye. “If you wish to think of this as your personal hell, I can make it so. That goes for the rest of you too,” Rex added, eyeing the men around him. They wouldn’t meet his eyes, and they each shuffled off to rejoin the others sparring around them. Yet Jason noted that they glared at Rex over their shoulders. The conflict wasn’t over.
Jason approached Rex, and the skeleton looked up at him with a grim expression.
“What was that about?” Jason asked as he neared Rex.
The skeleton warrior grimaced, the bones of his face cracking and snapping as they moved. “The soldiers you raised either have no memories of their past lives or only faint glimmers. That’s both a blessing and a curse. Many have taken to their new situation with enthusiasm. However, a handful of them question why they’re here and why they should follow you.”
Rex looked down at the gray dirt of the grounds, kicking at it idly. “They resent you,” he said in a voice tinged with worry as he glanced up at Jason. “Some have begun to call this city the Twilight Hell.”
The veteran warrior hesitated and glanced at Jason warily. “Despite that little show I just put on, I can’t say that I blame them. I know what it feels like to have your options stripped away from you.” A pained expression flitted across the skeleton’s face, causing Jason to wonder what experience Rex was referring to.
Jason observed the undead around him. Quite a few were his original soldiers, yet many were the new NPCs he had raised from the field outside the Twilight Throne. They had been immediately conscripted into the undead army. Jason found it odd that the new undead were reborn without any memories. He hadn’t experienced the same phenomenon when he transformed the city. Most of the original NPCs could recall their former life in Lux. Jerry was a good example.
Perhaps the amnesia only affects hostile NPCs that I raise. That might make my task in the dungeon easier. If the creatures that occupy the dungeon retain the memories of their past lives, that would make them unruly and almost useless to me.
However, that didn’t solve his immediate problem. Jason could see the confusion and fear in the eyes of the newly-raised undead. Numbers alone wouldn’t help him if his army didn’t fight with conviction. The new undead would fight harder for him if they wanted to be here and if they believed in him and the Twilight Throne. The question was how to motivate them.
His thoughts turned to the changes he had made to the city, and a glimmer of an idea flickered through his mind. The men here needed a purpose. They needed a life. Perhaps Jason could offer them something other than war and death.
“Attention, men,” Jason’s voice boomed over the field. His zombies gathered the trainees and then circled Jason in a defensive formation. Hundreds of milky white eyes and dark orbs now stared at him expectantly. The front ranks were filled with the new undead, and Jason’s veteran troops lined the courtyard behind them. Many of the new troops looked at Jason with poorly concealed anger.
“I know many of you had lives before this and have heard the stories of how you came to be here. You likely had families and professions that are now long forgotten. I didn’t start the war with the Grey Keep, but I am responsible for bringing you back to this world. I had hoped you would see this as a second chance at life.”
Jason hesitated, shaking his head. “Yet I realize that’s not enough. For many of you, all you have known since being reborn is relentless training. This is not a life. It is a living hell. Perhaps I can change that.
“I have formed two schools within the city. One teaches magic, and the other provides training in trade skills. I am offering every man and woman that I raised on the battlefield a chance to attend the school of their choosing. I’m offering you the chance to build a new life that isn’t based on war.”
Jason looked at the ground for a moment and then back up at the men around him. “I know this isn’t much, but it’s a chance at a new life. This world is not fair, and there are many people out there that would kill you on sight. However, so long as you are part of my city, you will be safe and
given an opportunity to grow and prosper.”
Rex looked at Jason with a skeptical look. He understood the veteran warrior’s unspoken message. He needed to offer both a carrot and a stick. He couldn’t be perceived as weak, by either his enemies or his own people.
Jason continued, “Those of you that are unhappy here in the Twilight Throne may leave. I will not force you to stay.” Jason made eye contact with the unruly zombie that Rex had bested. “I doubt the outside world will accept you, but that is your choice to make.”
Jason’s eyes hardened and grew black as his mana swept through his body. The air around him rippled with energy, dark tendrils lashing at the air. The undead in the courtyard drew back in shock as Jason’s mana unfurled around him. “That being said, while we care for our own, we have no mercy for our enemies. If you stay, you will follow my orders and the orders of the Shadow Council. If you stand against my city or my people, then I will take your new life from you just as easily as it was given. You must choose now and choose wisely.”
The undead around Jason observed him for a long moment before a cry went up from the back ranks. The veteran soldiers who had stood with Jason during the battle with Alexion howled into the dark sky. They had witnessed Jason’s loyalty to the city - that he would fight desperately to protect its people. They screamed the city’s name with fervor.
The new recruits looked behind them anxiously and saw the passion with which the other undead cheered. The anger faded from many of their eyes, replaced with confusion and uncertainty. A weak cry went up from their ranks. That was probably the best that Jason could hope for.
“You’re dismissed,” Jason’s voice boomed across the field.
The soldiers began to disperse, and Rex approached Jason. “That was a smart move,” the older soldier said softly. “You won’t win the new recruits over immediately, but you may have prevented a mutiny and sowed a seed of hope in their dead hearts.” He looked at Jason appraisingly. “I can work with that.”
Awaken Online: Precipice Page 12