Caerus watched Alex closely. “I think I have a plan that may allow both of us to get what we want - which is control of Grey Keep.”
“What’s your motive?” Alex asked bluntly.
Caerus smiled. “I like a man that gets to the point. Strouse rules this city with an iron thumb,” Caerus replied, a trace of bitterness creeping into his voice. “This also applies to the noble houses. You may not know this, but he has the power to tax my house and conscript my men at will. He picks and chooses who rises and falls in this city. I, for one, am sick of pandering to his whims.
“What’s worse is that we have little power to stop him.” A frown creased Caerus’ lips as he muttered these words. “He holds an army at his beck and call. The nobles are a notoriously greedy and disloyal bunch. To make matters worse, even if the houses could somehow see fit to work together, we don’t have the support of the people.”
Caerus eyed Alex appraisingly, before continuing in a thoughtful voice, “You undermine the balance of power in Grey Keep. Your connection with the Lady is a guiding light for the people. With your help, we could create a unified front in opposition to Strouse. In fact, I suspect you have already made much headway on that front.” He added this last part with a knowing look.
Alex considered the noble’s words. He could certainly relate to the man’s ambition, and he appeared to be bright enough to guess at the steps that Alex had already taken to foment insurrection within the city. Yet it was difficult to decide whether to accept Caerus’ offered help without the usual whispered guidance or the calm certainty that typically filled his mind. He would need to make this choice on his own.
“What would you have me do?” Alex finally asked, curiosity lacing his voice.
Caerus rested his hands casually on the railing of the bridge and looked down into the waters below. “You’ve made remarkable progress in uniting the people of this city behind the Lady. Unlike many others in Grey Keep, I’m not convinced the undead had a hand in the temple’s desecration, despite this Jason having claimed credit. It seems too convenient…” Caerus trailed off as he watched the swirling water.
“However, you need to take another significant step forward before the people are ready for a full-fledged rebellion. History tells me that the most convincing displays of religious conviction are made by martyrs,” Caerus said while casting a sideways glance at Alex beside him.
Alex was taken aback. He hadn’t considered this course of action. He had certainly endured enough Sunday sermons in the real world to understand how compelling a prophet’s sacrifice could be. Yet could he emulate something similar in the game? How would he even go about doing that?
Caerus smiled broadly, and his hand rubbed at his chin. “I can see that the idea appeals to you. You’re probably wondering how you could pull it off. That’s actually quite simple. I have Strouse’s ear and can ensure that you are arrested and publicly executed. I understand he’s already displeased with you. This, combined with a public display of power by the Lady, should be sufficient to incite a rebellion.
“What do you say? Do you want to claim a city or were you merely muttering to yourself on a bridge?” Caerus inquired with a rumbling chuckle.
Alex was conflicted. This plan hinged on him being publicly humiliated. He would also need to convince the Lady to go along with it. However, he agreed that her intervention after his death would mark him as a religious martyr and likely push the city toward full-fledged rebellion. This was his goal, wasn’t it? This was his chance to redeem himself. He would likely be showcased on multiple gaming news channels if he managed to pull this off.
Yet he hesitated. A strange mixture of emotions welled up in Alex’s mind - he was unaccustomed to processing these new sensations. Was this doubt? Guilt? Fear? He shook his head gently. He knew that the insidious whisper would insist that he take Caerus’ offer. It would rail against his weakness and urge him to cultivate more power. But the voice was silent.
“Tell me what you would have me do,” Alex announced with conviction. He’d come too far to turn back now.
***
Frank drove the wagon back down the main boulevard as Jason lay in the bed of the cart recovering. One oddity that Jason noticed when he reviewed his combat log was that he had received more damage from the cultist’s beating than his total health. He should have died. Curious, Jason checked his notifications.
New Passive Skill: Martyrdom
Through pure force of will, some individuals can endure terrible injuries in pursuit of a greater goal. Whether this is explained by stupidity or conviction has yet to be determined.
Skill Level: Beginner Level 1
Effect: Player may be injured to -50 health before dying. Only activated when sacrificing yourself for a teammate or a cause greater than yourself.
New Passive Skill: Toughness
Through repeated injury, your body can be toughened to withstand even the most devastating blows. It takes a true masochist to acquire this skill.
Skill Level: Beginner Level 1
Effect: 1% reduced damage and increased pain tolerance.
x3 Skill Rank Up: Disguise
Skill Level: Beginner Level 8
Effect: 12% increased authenticity to your costumes and mannerisms while disguised.
The Martyrdom skill explains why I didn’t die. At least I managed to pick up two passive skills after going through that. I don’t plan to repeat that experience in the near future.
Even with the reduced pain feedback inside the game, being beaten to within an inch of his life by a low-level cultist had not been pleasant. The experience also forced him to realize that it would be possible for a player to be tortured in-game. He shuddered as he considered the prospect of being beaten, healed, and then put through the process again. Maybe there was a good reason that Cerillion Entertainment had implemented the game masters - not that it had helped him.
The wagon came to a halt in one of the alleys that jutted off the main road. They had agreed to meet on the southern side of the ancient city. Without Greg and Bert and their bickering, it appeared to be completely abandoned. Frank hopped down from the driver’s seat, and Jason scrambled over the edge of the wagon, his boots hitting the dirt-covered street with a soft thump. They were scheduled to meet with Riley in the next few minutes. They needed to hurry.
The pair walked silently down the alley, the empty stone buildings towering over them. The crystals embedded in the cavern’s ceiling cast multicolored light down onto the street, creating a surreal feeling as they made their way forward. A few moments later, Jason felt a cold blade pressed to the back of his neck.
“Hi, Riley,” Jason said in a casual voice.
An irritated huff sounded from behind him. “You couldn’t remove those silly robes before walking down the alley?” The blade withdrew, and Jason heard a hiss of steel as it slid back into its sheath.
Frank shrugged. “We’re idiots, what can we say? But not removing our disguises doesn’t even begin to top the moronic show that Jason put on back in the courtyard.”
“I can only imagine,” Riley said in a dry voice.
Jason ignored their jabs. “Are we ready?” he asked as he removed the cultist robes and reequipped his Cloak of Midnight.
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Riley replied, her eyes meeting Jason’s briefly before he covered his face with the cloak. “I take it our primary target is still the Masters?”
“I don’t see another option. We’ll need a diversion, though. Multiple diversions, actually. I’ll send my remaining two thieves to try to free the prisoners. Maybe that will buy us some time before any cultists remaining on the northeastern part of the city get involved. I expect some won’t be in the courtyard,” Jason explained. “At the same time, we’re going to hit the main courtyard. Chaos is our friend here.”
Jason looked at Riley and Frank in turn. “As we discussed, the two of you are going to ambush the Masters when they come to help defend the courtyard.” They looked
back at him steadily, their eyes watching him without any trace of doubt. Despite their complaints and playful mocking, they had faith in him and his crazy plans.
I wish I was as confident.
“And you’re going to be cowering behind a rock?” Riley teased and Jason chuckled good-naturedly. She jumped a bit to limber up her legs and feet and stretched her arms. The game didn’t really require a player to stretch, but there were some habits that weren’t easy to break. “Let’s do this,” Riley finally said. “I plan to make these cultists regret enslaving innocent villagers.” Her eyes gleamed darkly in the iridescent light from the crystals.
Frank chuckled. “Priorities, guys. The important thing here is that I get to try out my new loot!” He brandished his axes in front of him, the blades appearing comically large in his hands - even given his substantial size.
“Since you two are so eager, let’s get going,” Jason said with a grin. “I doubt we have much time left to get into position anyway.”
The group split up and moved discretely into prearranged positions around the city. Jason’s two remaining thieves circled to the southeastern side of the town, traveling by side streets and maintaining Sneak. Jason had turned one into a lieutenant since he wouldn’t be nearby to supervise the thieves. They were instructed to hide in the buildings on the eastern side of the city until they heard the fighting start. Then their goal was to free the slaves and get the group moving. Jason had given them a few bags filled with leftover scrap equipment. It wasn’t great, but it was enough to arm the villagers. Hopefully, this would allow the slaves to put up some resistance.
Frank and Riley were heading to the northwestern portion of the city near the Masters’ camp. Riley took all of Jason’s archers with her, and he had ordered them to follow her commands. Their goal was to strike the Masters from behind when they came to reinforce the courtyard. Hopefully, the damage bonus from multiple Sneak Attacks would allow the group to take out a few of the unsuspecting mages immediately. Jason decided Frank would be most effective with Riley and could provide some melee protection if it came to it. Jason also gave him two minotaurs.
Finally, Jason moved to the center of the city. He spent several painstaking moments scaling a three-story building and was now crouched in Sneak on the roof. He needed to maximize his visibility of both the northwestern and northeastern portions of the city while maintaining line of sight on the central courtyard. It wasn’t a tree, but it would have to do.
Once he was in position, Jason moved his remaining minotaurs and mages forward. In the interest of irony, Jason had summoned Greg’s headless body and had tasked the mouthy wagon driver with one final errand. Greg maneuvered the wagon up the central boulevard and parked it in an alley below the building Jason occupied. A mass of extra minotaur bodies lay in the back of the wagon. Jason had ordered his minions to load the wagon with most of the extra corpses he had stashed in the maze above them. It was his backup plan in case things went south in the coming battle.
Jason’s minotaurs and mages were currently hiding in the buildings adjacent to the main boulevard below him. The minotaurs had to move slowly to avoid drawing attention. Their bulk made them quite conspicuous. Luckily there were plenty of alleys they could use to hide their presence. Their job would be to strike the courtyard down the main street.
Jason observed the courtyard from his vantage point. The cultists were still crowded around the tables eating dinner, but Jason didn’t see any obvious signs of sickness. At this distance, he could still inspect one of the cultists. He saw that they were afflicted with a minor debuff called “Wasting.” The tooltip indicated that the effect reduced their stats by 10%. As volatile as the poison was, perhaps it had been diluted too much by the enormous pot of stew.
Damn it, he thought grimly. I had been hoping for more of an effect after the trouble we went through to poison the soup. At least it will give us a small edge.
There were so many moving pieces in this fight that Jason could only hope things would turn in his favor. He closed his eyes for a moment, heart racing. His mind was a jumble of nervous thoughts. He had a lot riding on this dungeon. If he lost here, then it would be nearly impossible to launch a second strike. He was planning to use most of his remaining stockpile of bodies since he couldn’t afford to hold back. Not knowing what type of magic the Masters were using also left him at a disadvantage despite having the element of surprise.
He summoned his dark mana and felt the calming chill wash through his body. Alfred padded up beside him, his paws whispering softly on the stone of the roof. Jason opened his eyes, now a dark obsidian, and met the cat’s gaze. The AI looked at him without fear or confusion.
There’s no point in hesitating now. I’ve come too far to give up.
After taking a deep breath, Jason launched the attack.
He sent mental orders to one of his ice mages on the street below him. A cloud of blue vapor appeared over the courtyard below, slowly thickening. The cultists at the long tables looked up in confusion as the accumulating water particles obscured the light from the crystalline ceiling. Then the droplets swiftly condensed into jagged shards of ice. Before the cultists could cry out in alarm, the barrage of missiles fell upon the group at a startling speed, shredding through flesh and freezing exposed skin. The first screams rang out through the courtyard.
Intermediate water magic is something to behold, Jason thought in awe.
He had done a good job of keeping his ice mages alive while he leveled his Summoning Mastery. As a result, they had begun to unlock higher-level spells that had been previously unavailable to him. This was his first opportunity to cast Blizzard.
Jason capitalized on the confusion, ordering his minotaurs forward. The beasts roared, and their hooves slammed the dirt-covered road as they thundered toward their prey. The cultists saw the beasts approaching, and a shout of alarm flared up through their ranks. They began forming a rough defensive line. Many cultists fired bolts of multi-colored energy at the beasts, singing and freezing their fur where the bolts struck. However, it was too late to stop the charge.
The minotaurs struck the enemy line with a devastating effect. As Jason watched, an axe blade severed a cultist in two as another minotaur impaled a man with its horns. The beasts swung their bladed axes in wide arcs, and blood sprayed the dirt floor of the courtyard. Jason’s dark mages entered the fray, their shadowy curses afflicting the robed figures and slowing their movements. The combined effect of the poison and curses substantially weakened the cultists. Jason used his clear view of the field to tweak the positions of his minotaurs so that they didn’t strike one another.
Yet the cultists didn’t fall without a fight. They summoned elemental weapons that molded to their arms. Longswords of ice and fire flashed through the courtyard, and the minotaurs roared in fury as the weapons sliced through their decayed skin. The cultists were also able to create shields of ice and earth to block the beasts’ blows, the flimsy barriers shattering in a technicolor spray of fragments. As they recovered from the charge, they began mustering an effective defense.
Jason was already moving to the next part of the plan. He sent a mental order to a zombie he had left with Riley and Frank to relay what was going on in the courtyard. He also sent a message to his lieutenant on the eastern side of the city, instructing him that it was time to attempt to free the slaves. The thieves should have already initiated their part of the plan once the fighting started, but there was no point in leaving anything to chance.
Meanwhile, Jason’s fire mages joined the fight in the square, targeting the wooden tables that littered the courtyard. Balls of flame streaked through the air, ripples of heat cascading from each one. The fiery missiles splashed against the long tables and the dry wood erupted instantly. Blazing fires soon broke out among the groups of fighters. The heat and smoke added to the chaos, allowing Jason’s minotaurs to swing their axes with wild abandon.
This is going well so far, Jason thought.
Suddenl
y, a roar erupted from the west, and Jason’s head whipped to the left. A horde of were-beasts was rushing down the northwestern street toward the courtyard. The creatures were created from a chaotic medley of animals. Lions, wolves, and bears all made an appearance in the menagerie of the damned. These creatures weren’t as well constructed as the minotaurs or werewolves - their bodies appearing half finished. A nearly nude man ran on wolf legs as another clawed at the air with unwieldy bear arms.
Of course! They must keep the other were-beasts caged. Damn it! I’m going to kill Bert myself when this is over. He left out that part.
Jason glanced desperately between his minotaurs and the were-beast horde. The creatures greatly outnumbered his zombie bulls, and his minions were already straining to keep up against the cultists. He didn’t have a plan. He needed more time. Desperate, he began casting Custom Skeleton. His hands dashed through the gestures and the world began to slow around Jason.
The horde of were-creatures now moved at a crawl, their arms and legs moving almost imperceptibly under the time compression of his spell. Yet they were still moving. “I only have so much time,” Jason whispered to himself.
His mind scrambled to find a solution to this problem. His minotaurs would be overwhelmed by the were-beasts in a straight fight. His eyes darted to the wagon on the street below, corpses piled high in the bed. He could summon reinforcements, but they likely wouldn’t get to the courtyard in time.
“It’s hopeless,” he muttered, despair tinging his voice. “There’s no way to protect the minotaurs.” He could feel his panic escalate. He couldn’t afford to lose this battle.
“Stop,” he ordered himself aloud. He forcibly tamped down on his emotions, his dark mana flaring powerfully. He couldn’t allow himself to succumb to panic. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.
Then he reexamined the battlefield. His minotaurs were engaged with the cultists and would be flanked by the were-beasts. There didn’t seem to be a viable way to defend his minions. Then a quote flashed through his mind, this one from Sun Tzu’s Art of War, “Attack is the secret of defense; defense is the planning of an attack.” He was looking at this wrong. His minotaurs were already lost. However, he might still be able to use them offensively if he acted quickly.
Awaken Online: Precipice Page 29