Awaken Online: Precipice

by Travis Bagwell

As the players readied themselves to enter the dungeon, Claire noticed money changing hands to the angry expressions of some of the techs. “I feel like I’m missing something. What just happened? Claire asked.

  Robert slowly stood and started walking to the door. “We’re about to get some epic footage,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Then where are you going?” Claire asked in an exasperated tone.

  Robert turned and grinned at her. “To get some popcorn of course!”

  ***

  Jason started slightly as he heard a loud thump against the door to the Minotaur’s Lair. The group was currently huddled behind the massive stone throne, their mobile healing totem sandwiched between them. Bert struggled in vain against his restraints while he moaned softly. Riley glared at the man before unsheathing her dagger and sliding it against Bert’s stomach. He wisely decided to shut up.

  The door slammed open, and the group heard footsteps pound the stone floor as enemy players entered the room.

  Wait thirty seconds, Jason reminded himself. His hand clutched at one of his daggers anxiously, and he could feel his pulse pounding in his veins. His anxiety was barely dulled by the icy chill of his dark mana.

  “Ahh, I see that our guests have arrived,” a voice croaked from the other side of the throne.

  The zombie decoys that Jason had left in the throne room were roughly the same size and shape as Jason, Frank, and Riley. Their faces were shrouded by heavy cloaks which swayed gently in the pulsing red mist that emanated from Bert and swept around the throne. As he heard the players enter, Jason idly wished he could see the show from the players’ perspective.

  “I’m back for some revenge, asshole,” Jason heard Paul yell. He couldn’t help but smile at that. Frank huffed softly, trying to suppress a laugh, and Riley punched him lightly.

  Jason could still hear pounding feet as more players entered the room. Ten seconds, Jason thought.

  “We’ll see about that,” Jason’s decoy cackled. Then the zombie broke into a hacking cough, and Jason heard a faint splash of congealed blood and mucus hitting the floor.

  “What the hell…” Paul began. After a short delay, he screamed, “Attack them now.”

  Too late, Jason thought gleefully.

  One of his decoy zombies pushed down hard on the levers next to the stone throne. The doors to the room slammed shut with a heavy thud, and Jason heard the click of the locking mechanism sliding into place. The players trapped outside the room began banging frantically on the door. At the same time, the gates around the room began to open, and the zombie mages standing inside completed their spells.

  A blizzard swiftly formed in the air near the door, shards of ice materializing above the heads of the players and then plummeting downward. The jagged shards shredded the players’ skin and armor and froze any body part they touched. Patches of ice appeared on the ground, and walls of fire appeared between the grates and the players, providing cover for Jason’s melee troops as they moved into position.

  Frank and Riley darted from behind the throne, the skeleton minotaur carrying Bert lumbering just behind them. Jason glanced around the corner of the throne. He could see that nearly forty players had made it into the room before the door shut and he winced. That was more than he’d anticipated. This was going to be close.

  There was no time to cry over spilt milk. The Venom Spitters perched above the door spat acid down on the players, the green substance splashing across the faces of the troops closest to the door. Screams filled the air, adding to the chaos as the players rubbed vainly at their eyes. Meanwhile, Riley’s bow hummed, taking the life of more than one player before they could recover.

  Despite the devastating ambush, the players regrouped quickly.

  “Tanks to the outside - form a circle - casters inside,” Paul screamed, darting into the interior of the group. The bulkier players moved forward, and the clank of steel could be heard as heavy tower shields struck the stone floor, forming a rough shell around themselves.

  “Healers, focus on the wounded. Fire mages, get rid of this ice cover, and ice mages extinguish the walls,” Paul continued commanding the player forces. Fireballs promptly rocketed through the air, extinguishing the blizzard while bolts of ice splashed against the firewalls. Soon thick steam had filled the area around the door, obscuring the players from sight.

  While the enemy troops regrouped, Jason’s zombies rushed from the cages. The firewalls and steam provided good cover, concealing their movements as they formed a phalanx on either side of the players. Another two dozen zombies met with Frank in the center of the room and stood in front of the healing totem.

  “Charge,” Frank yelled, not waiting for the players to completely recover before launching his attack. He held his axes aloft and began channeling Rage of the Herd. His body started to glow with an ominous red aura that quickly spread to the attacking zombies. Their decaying limbs and skin pulsed with the red energy, and their milky eyes took on a feral gleam.

  Acting quickly, Jason sent in several zombies ahead of the charge as his fingers moved through his Corpse Explosion spell. If he timed the explosion right, he could stagger the defensive line of players without injuring his own troops. Just before he was about to complete the casting, he heard a whisper behind him. Acting on instinct, Jason aborted his spell and dove forward. A bone shield swung into the position where he had been standing a moment before.

  A pair of daggers struck the plate of bone with incredible force, shattering the disc into several fragments that clattered onto the stone floor. A player robed in black leather stood beside Jason, momentarily stunned at having missed his target. Jason took advantage of the hesitation, beginning to cast Curse of Weakness as he backed toward the cages. Meanwhile, his mages redirected bolts of energy toward the rogue.

  The player gave chase, nimbly dodging the first two arcane missiles. Then Jason’s curse struck. The sharp black needle penetrated the player’s stomach, and insidious black energy spread swiftly through his body. Under the slowing effects of the curse, the next lance of ice struck the player’s leg, impaling the limb. Jason reversed direction, drawing his blades. Before the player could react, Jason pounced on him, driving his daggers into his throat. Blood jetted from the wound and drenched Jason’s hands.

  He looked up at the battle, his eyes cold and calculating. He had missed his chance to weaken the defenders with his Corpse Explosion, and Frank was now engaging them in melee. Jason sheathed his blades, and he raised the would-be-assassin as a new zombie. He moved back to the cover of the throne, keeping this new minion as a bodyguard in case there were any other close encounters.

  Jason’s eyes darted back to the battle. Frank was a whirlwind of steel, his axes slamming into the enemy tanks. Yet their shields held against his blows. Roaring in frustrated rage, fire curled up the handles of Frank’s axes and clung to the steel. Each swing caused the air to ripple around him and lit the enemies’ weapons and armor on fire. His attacks were slowly breaking through their line.

  Yet it came at a cost. Jason saw Frank’s health plummet, the red mist emanating from the healing totem insufficient to heal his injuries. Riley assisted Frank, her black missiles penetrating cracks in the tanks’ armor. Occasionally, a carefully targeted Blood Mist arrow struck home, and the red mist thickened, increasing the healing effect which was just barely keeping Frank in action. Jason couldn’t afford to redirect his lone light mage from healing Bert. Their healing totem was the only thing keeping many of the undead alive.

  Then the players reacted. Suddenly, the floor rumbled, and a wave of stone rocketed from the enemy’s line, slamming into Jason’s zombies on each flank. The unexpected movement sent them tumbling backward. A barrage of fireballs followed the attack, striking Jason’s prone troops and setting many undead ablaze. Meanwhile, the injured players holding the shield wall were bathed in white light that swiftly healed their injuries.

  Jason’s troops were being sustained by the healing totem, suffering few casu
alties from the players’ onslaught. Yet, by the same token, the were regrouping, and few were falling due to their own healers. This was quickly going to turn into a battle of attrition as each side tried to out heal the other. As Jason watched an enemy mage chug a mana potion, he decided they probably wouldn’t win a prolonged battle.

  He stepped forward around the stone throne, resting a hand on Riley’s shoulder. “Kill the healers,” he said in a dark voice, pointing to the white-robed men and women on the interior of the enemy’s formation.

  Riley nodded curtly and then jumped up on the stone throne. She drew her bow back and sighted carefully along the arrow as dark energy throbbed and pulsed around the tip. The collection of dark mana grew swiftly, seeming to suck in the faint light cast by the torches in the room. Yet Riley still held the string taut, letting the energy grow until it was nearly three feet wide.

  Riley’s position on the throne gave her the elevation to hit the mages, but it also made her an easy target. Jason could see multiple bolts of ice and fire being summoned by the enemy mages, directed towards Riley’s position. Then the bolts raced toward Riley. Jason ordered a zombie into the line of fire, its decaying body absorbing two lances of ice, yet more were coming. In a moment of desperation, Jason scrambled up on the throne behind Riley. He destroyed another undead, replacing his missing bone shield and shifted the three discs in front of Riley.

  Jason watched as though in slow motion as the bolts of magic slammed into the bone shields, shattering the discs into pieces. As the last disc broke, Riley regained her line of sight on the healers and released. The massive dark sphere rocketed across the room at an incredible speed. The missile narrowly missed the wailing limbs of Jason’s zombies, skimmed above Frank’s shoulder on the frontlines, and danced among the moving crowd of enemy players. Then the arrow struck home, burying itself in the chest of a white-robed mage.

  The man’s body exploded in a torrential shower of blood. Yet the damage didn’t stop there. The black energy created a vortex that sucked in another nearby healer, dark tendrils of energy wrapping around the man’s limbs and tearing at his flesh. He screamed feebly, but his calls for help were cut short as another black missile buried itself in his neck. Jason glanced at Riley and saw that the string of her bow was humming from the release of another arrow.

  Damn, I like this girl, he thought with a grin.

  Capitalizing on Riley’s attack, Jason’s hands were already forming the familiar gestures of his Specialized Zombie spell. As he completed the spell, dark shadows lanced from his hands and shot toward the corpse of the fallen healer. The new zombie opened its milky eyes but remained prone for a long moment. As the players recovered from the attack and their attention shifted to the zombie horde around them, Jason ordered the mage to stand and slowly approach the front line near Frank. As he did, the zombie healed Frank continuously, light coating his body and refilling his failing health bar.

  “What are you doing?” Paul yelled at the healer, noticing that he was targeting an enemy.

  The former mage smiled in response and promptly exploded. Dark energy cascaded from his corpse in an expanding ring, striking the unsuspecting enemy tanks from behind. The shield wall staggered, and Frank took advantage of the moment of weakness, plunging into the enemy’s formation.

  “Kill them all!” Frank roared into the air as his axe cut into a wounded player’s shoulder. Without stopping, his other axe sliced into the throat of a nearby mage and partially severed his head. A player who had been knocked to the ground behind Frank pulled himself to his feet. He rushed at the burly warrior, stabbing Frank in the back with his blade. With a cry of pain, Frank spun and chopped off the player’s hand, the flames from his axe cauterizing the wound. With a manic smile and surrounded by enemies, Frank left the player’s weapon in his back as he continued to strike around himself with unabated fury.

  Jason ordered his zombies through the opening that Frank had created. His undead poured through the hole in the enemy line and began slaughtering the more fragile casters inside. The mages futilely began casting spells in quick succession, but the damage was being healed by the blood mist that poured from the skeletal totem within the undead ranks. Any players that fell were soon raised by Jason, adding to his forces.

  Watching the battle carefully, Jason could see that the fight was already over. The death of the enemy’s healers and his ability to replace his troops had turned the tide of the battle. He hopped down from the stone throne and moved to the levers. He pushed another rod, causing the floor to tremble as the ramp opened in the center of the room.

  He glanced at the door to the Minotaur King’s throne room, seeing that a large crack had formed in the stone surface. It wouldn’t be long before the other players broke into the chamber. They would need to move quickly to get into position for the next part of their plan.

  Jason glanced at Frank’s blood-covered form, his blades still whirling among the players. To Jason’s side, Riley’s dark eyes surveyed the battle dispassionately as her arrows dispatched player after player. A grin crept across Jason’s face as he considered what was coming next. These players should have never tried to screw with them.

  Chapter 30 - Warlike

  No work was being accomplished in the control room at Cerillion Entertainment. The technicians sat with mouths agape as they watched the events unfolding on the screen. A group of players stood amidst a sea of undead, their numbers dwindling quickly against the onrushing hordes.

  Paul looked around frantically, the camera tilting and panning with nervous energy. A stray shard of rock struck a nearby mage in the head, caving in the poor man’s skull and showering Paul in his blood. The battlefield had taken on a grim cast, the stone floor painted red and a thick crimson mist permeating the room. Paul’s knuckles were white as he clutched his staff, his free hand dancing feebly through the motions of another spell.

  Paul saw the glimmer of a throwing blade arcing toward him, giving him little time to dodge. He let out a resigned groan. Then the blade clanged against a steel tower shield. One of the few remaining tanks had blocked the dagger, and he now stood in front of Paul, his bulk shielding Paul from the missiles that flew through the room.

  “Keep casting,” the tank growled, not bothering to look at Paul to see if he had followed through with the command.

  Suddenly, a hulking man carrying an enormous battle axe in each hand rushed out of the mist and leaped toward the tank. He wore only light leather armor, and his eyes were wild. Flames danced along the length of his axe blades as they slammed into the tank’s shield with a clang of metal. Paul’s defender buckled, sliding back nearly a foot under the force of his opponent’s blow. The tank smiled grimly as his shield pulsed with electrical energy, lightning arcing from the shield and retaliating against the attacker.

  The burly barbarian’s body spasmed uncontrollably for a moment. The tank took advantage of the stunning effect from his shield, drawing his sword arm back. Electricity crackled along the length of the blade, growing in force and intensity until a humming sound could be heard over the din of the battle. He lunged forward toward his prone opponent, lightning flashing through the air around his blade.

  Just before impact, a bolt of black energy struck the tank. The crowd in the lab gasped as the player’s head exploded violently, blood splattering Paul’s face and obscuring his vision. Red rivulets appeared on the camera, and Paul rubbed at his eyes, trying to remove the liquid that ran down his face.

  As the screen cleared, the technicians could see that Paul was the only left standing. Around him lay a mass of torn and tattered bodies. Blood had settled on the floor in thick pools. Paul glanced around anxiously. Dark forms surrounded him in the blood mist, their milky white eyes barely visible through the haze. Yet they didn’t make any move to attack him.

  The burly barbarian in front of Paul shook himself, working feeling back into his limbs. Blood and sweat dripped down his muscular arms, and he looked at Paul with t
hinly-disguised rage. He took a calming breath and looped the hilts of his axes on leather straps hanging from his belt. A pair of dark forms approached through the mist. One was a woman dressed in dark leather armor, a glowing crimson bow in her hand. The other was a man, his face shrouded by a thick black cloak and plates of bone orbiting him like a black hole.

  Jason motioned to the warrior who still stood beside Paul. “Good job, Frank.”

  Frank nodded curtly.

  Then Jason’s gaze swept back to Paul. “So, what was it that you called me again?”

  Paul gulped hard. His voice quavered slightly as he replied. “I called you an asshole. I stand by it.”

  A broad smile crept across Riley’s face, her eyes following Paul carefully. “You seem like a slow learner. I wonder if you’re representative of your guild. Are all the morons?”

  Frank barked a harsh laugh. “There’s apparently a low bar to start a guild. Maybe we should start our own!”

  “Who would take people like you?” Paul spat without thinking.

  Riley nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. “You’re right. We certainly aren’t saints. Maybe this game needs a guild for sinners.”

  “I like that,” Jason said softly. “A guild for the outcasts of this world.” He approached Paul slowly, his hand lazily pulling a dagger from a sheathe at his waist. “What do you think, Paul? Should we form a guild?”

  The screen shook gently as Paul trembled. “I-I don’t care what you do. Just end it,” he stuttered.

  “Now, now,” Jason said threateningly. “Don’t be hasty. After all, we still need a name for our guild.”

  The hooded figure considered Paul’s trembling form as he tapped the tip of his dagger against his lips in thought. Then Jason’s mouth curled into a vicious smile. He suddenly lunged forward, and his blade ripped across Paul’s throat. The camera jerked as Paul dropped to his knees, clutching at his throat and letting out a surprised gurgle.