Belar hissed as her armored foot started to glaze over in frost. Corok smiled as he stood up. The surface orc’s speed was not far from his own, but now even that was compromised thanks to his ice blade. It was then that he remembered who his target really was. He turned around just in time to see a glowing red hand, then crimson fire filled his range of sight.
When Corok leaped out of the captain’s blaze, and attacked him, Fer’shad had basically froze for a second. The last time he’d seen another orc perform something like that was when Ulgo Meatgrinder used it against the grey orcs they ambushed before chasing one into the depths. What brought him out of his stunned moment was the burning warriors behind him suddenly attacking. Whether it was anger, pain, or a combination of both, Fer’shad did not know. But what was clear was that this grey orc went berserk and started wailing with both his maces against his shield. All of which caught him off guard and forced him into a defensive position. Voresh next to him didn’t seem to be having that problem, though.
The grey-skinned orc in front of Voresh was still in the blaze, trying to run in the opposite direction of them. So he simply ran him through with his sword, then forced his blade up the Holmgren's back and through his shoulder. Voresh snatched his blade back out, spurting blood everywhere, including his own face. The beleaguered Holmgren fell on it’s knees and began crawling away from him. Voresh followed him for two seconds before he unceremoniously pulled the orc’s head back and pushed his sword past it’s jugular. He didn’t bother to watch the orc as he continued to crawl away with a puddle of blood beginning to form underneath him. He then turned his attention to the orc pounding om Fer’shads shield. But it proved to not be needed. It only took the Holmgren to begin to run out of steam and just a second delay, which allowed Fer’shad to shield bash him between his flailings. The stun left him open to an upward thrust into his stomach, almost lifting him off his feet. Voresh then lowered his sword on top of its shoulder from behind, breaking the collar bone. The Holmgren fell on his knees screaming, then Fer’shad mechanically pulled his sword out his stomach and cut the kneeling grey-orc’s throat. His screams turned to gurgling as he tried to lift his now useless hand towards its ruined neck. He then keeled over, breathing his last breath.
Kel’Van had fired off a short blast into the duel wielders' face with his left hand. “Aaargghh” the enemy screamed.
The Holmgren’s body was contorted to his left like a spring. So Kel’Van was already preparing to block the incoming strike that was inevitably coming from his right with his sword.
KLAAnnng! Was the reverberating sound made from the contact of Corok’s sword and Kel’Van’s. The impact sent Kel’Van tumbling to his left. There was hardly any feeling in the captain’s arm, but as he reeled sideways from the blow, he used the momentum to pirouetted in a spin, slicing his sword into Corok’s cheek. He stole a quick glance at his opponent and saw his grotesque face in flames and melted skin that was all but sloughing off, with a milk-white gloss in the eye on the left side of his face.
The warrior dropped his ice sword and grabbed a purple vial from his pouch, and quickly tossed the contents on his face. The liquid not only promptly doused the flames on his face, but actually started regenerating tissue. Even his damaged eye began to regain its color and health.
Corok, grim-faced, quickly snatched up his sword, and Kel’Van raised his left hand for another blast to the Holmgren's face when Belar leaped on his back. She held an arm around his neck, and the other grabbed the forehead. An armored finger gouged deeply in the eye of Corok, squeezing it into a bloody pulp, then ripping the flesh out. Corok went berserk with pain and anguish. She quickly hopped off the Holmgren when he tried to stab her with an uppercut strike from one of his blades. Kel’van wasted no time in charging the Holmgren. Corok lowered his already raised sword arm with a chop intending to land on Kel’Van’s shoulder. The Ulgo merely sidestepped to his right, into the Corok’s blindside thanks to Belar, then sliced upward cutting into his chin and left cheek.
Fer’shad finally made an appearance with a running shield bash in the back that pushed the veteran grey orc 4 feet toward the gate and onto the ground. He tried to stand by using his sword as an old man would use a cane for stability. Then Voresh with a leap from nowhere, landed with enough force that his sword cut into the arm, almost severing it from the elbow down.
Corok screamed in horror as he stared at the limb dragging in the dirt with a sword tightly gripped in its fist. He then clutched what was left of his arm to his chest as the spurting blood soaked his armor. The four surface orcs began closing in on him in a semi-circle backing him up. He quickly looked behind him and spied the portal looking back at him. Then he turned around facing his would-be killers. Corok then forced himself straight and tall. Then with a grim smile on his now marred face, he began to laugh.
“You will not find what you seek here surface orc,”Corok solemnly said. “Neither the key nor my death.”
With those parting words, he fell backward into the portal as Kel’van eyes followed him down.
CHAPTER 19
The party looked dumbfounded as he passed through Voresh’s “mirror.” It was square with a glowing white substance like smoke that made up its edges. To Voresh’s credit, it really did look like a mirror until you got up close. What it actually resembled was a very clear window. Through this window, they could see the Holmgren who had fallen backward lying on what could be best described as scorched earth. The window had a bird’s eye view as if it was staring from a great height. Through it, not only did they spy the injured grey orc, but they saw the exit. It was a cave covered with moss with light pouring through, leaning into a slope. So, if they were going through, they had a climb ahead of them. What drew them back to the injured Holmgren bleeding out on the ground, was a roar in the back of the cave. It moved lighting fast, which wasn’t surprising when you got a good look at its form.
Corok was still lying on his back.
The fall had not been easy on his body. He had bounced on some rocks on the way down, so his already damaged limb was now hanging on by broken bone and strips of flesh. Between that and the injuries to his eye and body, the pain rendered him motionless.
It was the roar from across what looked like a hall enclosed in a cave that had made him stir at all. He leaned on his right arm as he tried to get up. His left limb was still pumping blood out, in tune with his heart. He knew his end was nigh no matter what happened.
“I might as well die on my feet at least,” Corok said to himself.
Getting himself on his knees, he pushed himself up with his left arm. With an effort, he was able to make himself stand, if only barely. He then turned around and faced the monstrosity that had made this hall it’s home.
The monster stood on four legs that ended in hooves. They were also covered in dark blue fur that was just thin enough to show the corded muscles beneath. From there, the monster was shirtless. The body was a mixture of almost midnight blue, with red veins all across its body. He was barrel-chested with bulging massive arms that reached halfway to his legs. The head was covered in shadow, so much of his face was hidden. It had horns that curved inward, almost circling his ears, and was pointed out like a bull. Lastly, there was fire emanating from the horns as well as a large one-hander ax he wielded at its side.
Corok, with a viciously gouged out eye, his arm dangling, stood up as straight as he could. He raised his remaining sword arm at the creature before him and spit on the ground.
“What are you waiting for, monster? DO IT!!!”
The orc started at a jog, then a full-on sprint as he raised his ice blade to attack. The onslaught that arrived to meet the Holmgren was swift and brutal.
As Corok ran to meet his doom, so did the monster run to deliver it. This being closed the distance between them in almost two breaths. When it got within striking distance, it reared its front legs up like a horse and then stomped its hooves right on top of the orc. The first leg smashed Corok’s face
to paste, the second limb made a wet popping sound as the orc's body exploded like a water balloon against the pavement. The only thing left of the body was the legs. The beast picked up a leg and quickly started gnawing on the limb and spitting out the armor pieces like sunflower seeds. He then looked up at the instance window, staring at the party peering through it. It gave a low growl, then dragged off what was left of Corok by the legs, back from whatever it had come from, and out of the onlooker's sight.
Kel’Van’s’ party was looking on with absolute dread. He had seen similar bosses when partnered with members in his guild in five-man instances. This was the first time his teammates have ever seen an instance boss though. To say that they were awestruck was an understatement. What their erstwhile captain was thinking about was how easily it defeated the orc. Two seconds and the beast was having the Holmgren’s leg for lunch. The orc had earned Kel’Van’s respect by choosing how he would die, but it didn’t amount much to that beast. He quickly tried to scan the instance boss's level as it was leaving from the sight of the instance window.
Ter’ Abran: Aberrant Elemental Level 12 HP 70,000 (Boss)
“Aberrant Elemental?!” …That thing is an elemental!” a surprised Kel’Van thought. He didn’t see a dragon symbol next to its name, but there was no mistaking that this was at least an entry-level boss. So, what was it doing here? It was then that the complications of what this would cause for his team came crashing down. Exhausted from the previous battles, and the ramifications of what he was seeing, he sat down in front of the portal and put his head in his hands.
A Level 12 Boss Instance.
A party of 4 instead of 5.
No Class skills.
No Healer.
God help us….
Fer’shad broke off from his bewildered state first and walked over to his leader, sitting down in the dirt.
“Captain, should we not prepare to go through the magic mirror?”
He didn’t know how to explain to his team what an instance was. In early MMO’s game developers discovered having everyone loot the same high-level area wasn’t fun if your team arrived and everything was killed by another player before you got there. To make sure gamers had a better experience, they created “instances” so that you or a bunch of friends can enter their own personal version of the area. Instead of waiting for mobs to respawn, the game would create your own private instance where you can fight, loot ( or die) all you want, for however times you want to do it. But this was a different situation. An instance being here made no sense. An elemental boss being here made no sense.
Kel’Van looked up from his hands, eyes radiating the weariness in them. “It’s not a magic mirror Fer’shad. It’s an instance gate,” he said with an edge at the end of it. He breathed heavily and then looked up at his tank.
“He didn’t deserve that.”
“What you are looking at right now through this portal is an instance. Every instance has a boss and what we just saw was an instance boss eating our enemy. Our way out is through the instance, and this creature is in our way.”
“Could we not quietly pass through to the outside of the cave?” asked Voresh
Kel’Van, still holding his head in his hands, just shook his head no.
“In an instance, the boss in the lair automatically knows when something that does not belong there has entered it. There is no sneaking our way past it.” His hands fell from his face as he eyed his teammates. “We can’t even outrun this elemental. Did you see how fast he attacked Corok? He slaughtered him in less than 3 seconds.”
“So, what are we to do, captain?” Voresh asked quietly.
Kel’Van was able to hear the faint signs of defeat in his voice. Belar's countenance echoed Voresh’s sentiment. Even Fer’shad’s overly optimistic look was gone after seeing what was down there near the exit home. Kel’Van mentally slapped himself across the face.
“C’mon you mopey bastard, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’re in charge of a crew, and right now, their souls are crushed. Their morale begins and ends with you, so get your shit together man!”
He had started to try to get up when Fer’shad grabbed his shoulders and helped him to his feet.
“My apologies for the mistake captain….and for other things as well,” the giant orc said. He turned his head as he said that last bit as if he was ashamed of something. Whatever it was, it will have to wait. They had things they needed to discuss, and right now, what they needed to do was get out here before someone discovered that the people guarding the back gate are gone.
“No, we are not going into the instance. Not until we are ready. But believe you me, we are going to get ready,” Kel’Van said solemnly.
“What do you mean?” asked Belar. “It seems the monster is too strong.”
“The monster is too strong now,” said Kel’Van walking up to her. “But it will only stay that way if we don’t get stronger, and we already know how to do that. We hunt monsters in the area, it will be dangerous, but we will grow.”
“But we’ve been doing that already,” Voresh said in an almost angry tone. Kel’Van decided to go with that tone for what he said next.
“Not just the monsters. Everyone. Orcs. Spiders. Elves. Anything that stands in our way or is a threat to us. We will get stronger…by murdering everything moving.”
The mood totally swung from despair to righteous anger.
“Good,” Kel’Van thought.
He was going to need that anger to help focus them through the coming weeks. “It’s going to take time; we are going to need to reach at least level 12 but try for 15 to feel secure about confronting the elemental. I’ll explain later why, but for now, we need to loot these bodies and get out of this cave before someone comes and checks on the guards.”
“I take it everyone leveled after this fight, yes?”
The nodding was consensual from all.
Kel’Van quickly dumped 1 point into stamina and another into health, then walked up to the cold blade and kicked into the portal.
“No need for anyone to profit off our work,” he whispered. “We’ll pick it up on our way out the door.”
Belar and Voresh looked languidly at the portal door but determined. The way home was just a few steps away. Both angry but with renewed vigor, they began going through the bodies before following Kel’Van out the caves. More focused and determined now than how they came in.
CHAPTER 20
There were only four in the group this time. They seem to be wary as they walked through the undergrowth. This group of Holmgren didn’t talk much either. It’s no wonder. The attacks on the sects have increased over the last couple of weeks. But instead of making the groups bigger, they just increased the number of groups. Which in itself was both a blessing and a curse.
On the one hand, it was more of them to kill; the downside was the kills had to be quicker and quieter so that they didn’t have time to alert another group for aid. Standing there on the top of the hill watching them set-up their ambush, Kel’Van was reminiscing about the beginning when their attacks were easier to perform and plan. Belar came up beside him, crawling on her hands and knees to keep from being spotted by the tattooed orcs below.
“The others are getting into position captain,” she whispered
“Okay then. Give them the signal to begin walking through. Once that happens, we’ll get in our spots once the attack begins,” he explained. Belar nodded her head as she then began to quietly leave the area,
“Belar?”
She quickly turned her head back to her captain. Kel’Van put a thumbs-up signal to her.
“Happy hunting.”
An almost dark and sinister smile appeared on her face. “Always captain.”
Kel’Van returned the smile and made his way in the opposite direction down the hill.
Their team, since coming out of the cavern with the instance, had changed. Knowing that they now had to kill as much as possible to grow had altered how they looked at t
heir enemy. They weren’t just Holmgren anymore. They were prey. The beings they came across were the sustenance needed to grow their own power, and on a certain level, they relished the carnage that was about to come from their hands. Kel’Van couldn’t be happier with their attitude.
“Power is a great motivator,” he grinned.
Then he slowly continued to his side of the path to stage the ambush on the “ambushee’s” with a grin that mirrored Belar’s vicious smile to a Tee.
“Here they come. “said the Holmgren peering through long daffodil like weeds. The other three were stationed at both blindsides of the path entrance. Two to the left, one on the right. Waiting there for the two travelers to walk in and begin their attack. The others acknowledged her and readied their weapons. The one on the right, a large sword already raised overhead his shoulder for a blow, and the two on the left both had short axes. Receiving their readiness with a nod, she drifted back into the giant weeds. As she settled in for the inevitable attack on her victims, a sharp point poked her back.
“Wha...?”
Before she could turn around, that sharp point quickly pushed itself through her back. A gloved hand quickly covered her mouth as a sword serrated itself further into her body, filling her lungs with blood. Her last question died upon her lips as she was laid down between the tall grass.
Sneak attack bonus…critical sword strike for 80 points
Sword strike hits for 40 points…bleed effect 5 points for 10 seconds
Sword strike hits for 40 points…bleed effect 5 points for 10 seconds
AVARICE ONLINE: KEL'VAN RED HAND Page 17