Deadline

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Deadline Page 15

by Domino Finn


  I surveyed the rows of statues populating the hall. While some were sculpted statues, many were clearly petrified residents who couldn't be saved. What a travesty it was to choose. "You have a healing potion?"

  Crux blinked. "Right." He produced a health flask and rolled Grimwart's stiff body over. Bit by bit, he poured the enchanted liquid down the knight's throat. At first the crusader barely responded, but then he gagged and coughed. Soon he was drinking thirstily.

  "It worked!" exclaimed the giddy thief.

  I knelt beside them. "How are you?"

  "It was awful," Grimwart confided, attempting to sit up with the thief's assistance. "Thanks be to you, good sirs."

  "I need to save Hex," said Crux, breaking away.

  Artax lowered his head to his longtime rider. Colonel Grimwart smiled and used the warhorse's sturdy frame to rise to his feet. The crusader collected his breath, turned to me, and peered closely. "Talon. What magick is this?"

  "Long story. Do you remember what happened?"

  "Aye, and then more. I could see everything but act not." The knight's words were heavy with guilt. "The continued isolation of the Trinity. The divisions among the castes. When the protests began, I was locked away from prying eyes. Others joined me soon after. And then no more."

  "Oakengard enforcement has evolved past stone," I explained. "Hadrian's in control and talking about a new future. He brings with him a purple plague. The Violet Order. The glowing energy is spreading into the keepers, the Speculum, and the people. It's taking them over."

  "And I allowed it to happen."

  "No. Your vigilance is the reason they still have a chance. It's lucky you were turned to stone. It protected you from the worst to come." My lips curled. "You should see what they did to Rygar."

  "So one of our greatest heroes is one of them now." Grimwart's head fell.

  Crux stomped over, agitated. "She's not here."

  "Hmm? You sure? Did you miss anyone?"

  "She's not here," he insisted.

  I walked down the aisle, checking faces.

  "I know my sister, Talon. She's not here. Why isn't she here?"

  "Hex is an outsider," said Grimwart. He pushed away from his mount, strength returning quickly. "There is a perverted logic afoot. Even with the disgrace they have twisted this great hall into, it is not fit for outsiders. I haven't seen Hex since she was petrified. Mayhaps there's a special place for her."

  Crux cursed. I held my tongue. It wouldn't help to vocalize the alternative: that her statue might've been destroyed. In a simulation, I wasn't sure what that would result in, but we had to hope Hadrian hadn't permanently killed her. In a realm with active respawns, confinement was worse than death.

  "How did you manage my revival?" asked Grimwart.

  I winced. "Hero Gent gave us an antidote before succumbing to his sickness. He refused to work with Hadrian once Mara was assassinated."

  "She—" The knight's graying eyebrows rose slowly. "It's much worse than I believed. We must find Hex, gather my knights, and flee Oakengard."

  "Knights?"

  The crusader nodded. "Surely there are many still left, still loyal to me. If they're in danger, I have an obligation to rescue them."

  "The extraction team," reminded Crux.

  I nodded and chewed my lip.

  Grimwart studied our faces. "What is it?"

  "Our other objective," I said. "We're here to steal back the soulstones. I'm betting Hadrian's power is somehow tied to them. But every step of this recon mission brings us deeper into Oakengard politics. And Hadrian is powered up beyond his level."

  I hissed and paced away from them, hands on hips. I was starting to wonder if I'd let shock and anger guide me into this desperate mission instead of taking time to think things through. Then again, learning of the purple plague was invaluable. We'd already saved Grimwart, and had a chance to rescue Hex and a bunch of other crusaders. This was working.

  I recalled the feeling of helplessness as I'd watched Rygar's stoic final stand. I couldn't do anything to stop that, but I was in a position to prevent it from happening to others. The human cost was really what this war was about. It didn't even matter that the NPCs I'd be saving were never really human.

  "We'll put the soulstones on the back burner," I announced, moving to the room's doorway. "First we save who we can. Any idea where Hex would be?"

  "Alas, I know not."

  "It's got to be this floor," insisted Crux. "The lights are shut down. The whole place is like an oversized closet." The poor kid began trembling with rage. "They stored my sister in the dark somewhere like an old pair of shoes."

  "Relax, Crux. Storing your sister is the safest thing they could've done for her. Let's get started then. It's empty down here so it'll be safe to sweep through quickly."

  Crux nodded and hurried ahead in lieu of wasting another second. His desperation was palpable.

  Grimwart's head swiveled the opposite direction. "I must go upstairs and rally my men. With any luck they've heard rumors of Hex's whereabouts. Once we're gathered, we'll slip out the side gate. My soldiers have already been prepped on the procedure."

  "No need. We're taking the fast travel."

  "It will be locked down."

  "The saints aren't around anymore. I can control it." Grimwart turned to me, baffled. I didn't bother giving him the rundown about the dead saints and developers. His head was already spinning enough. I just said, "Do what you need to do so we can leave as fast as possible."

  He nodded and slipped the black helmet on his head. "I wish the young man luck and you both godspeed." He headed toward the stairs and I rejoined Crux.

  The lower level of Oakengard was more labyrinthine than the first. The dark conferred a spookier aspect to the maze, and I half expected a minotaur to greet us at every turn. Yet the desolation proved simple to overcome with speed and efficiency. Crux and I cleared rooms with military precision, splitting away for minutes at a time. Twenty such minutes in, I began fearing we were going about this wrong. Hex wasn't nearby. There was nothing down here but the remains of old vanities.

  Dead traditions for a dying city.

  A charge of excitement stirred me when I encountered a heavy-duty access hatch built into the floor. It was prominently placed at the end of a wide corridor with a large padlock bolting it shut.

  My enthusiasm waned as my fingers uselessly passed through the lock. I couldn't interact with physical objects.

  The void form was a strange beast. I was immaterial yet didn't fall through floors. I couldn't put my hand through walls or static game objects. Dynamic game objects, though, were treated differently. My hands passed through vases and horses and locks.

  I wondered if it really mattered. The padlock was of crystal construction. The door was sturdy and reinforced. I doubted I could force my way through the access hatch even if I were physical.

  But then...

  I pushed my fingers deeper, through the lock and through the door as well. As my fingertips and hand found success, I pushed forward completely. To my delight, I could indeed step through doors. Since the object could open and close, the collision was dynamic and thus immaterial to me.

  Dank steps led down a cave tunnel, reminding me of the dungeon where Hadrian had been confined, except there were tools and carts instead of cells and shackles. This was a mine shaft.

  Grimwart had once boasted of Oakengard's famous mining operations. The mountainside was rich with veins of ore, making the fortress strategic for trade as well as defense. Now, the sounds of active labor seemed eons away. A layer of dust coated the tools and walkway. Cobwebs stretched across the tunnel. Production had been shut down.

  I sighed in disappointment. As curious as I was about this path, Hex wasn't down here. Nobody had been for a long time. I backtracked to the access hatch. Faint scratching came from the other side of the door. Someone was coming in. I instinctively huddled down before realizing I was only a shadow in the dark. Several seconds later, the hatc
h opened and Crux climbed down. He stiffened, tuned senses alerting him to my presence.

  "You're learning," I said. "Relax."

  "Talon? How did you— Oh, right."

  "That was a crystal lock."

  "Figured this place was important."

  I shrugged. "These are the Oakengard mines, where they gather the ore from the mountains. Given the dust, Hex can't be here."

  He grumbled at the apparent truth.

  "You're pretty good with that lockpick," I said as we headed back up to the hall. "What was that, twenty seconds? Thirty?"

  The thief didn't share my fascination with his skills. "This is taking too long, Talon. What did they do with my sister?"

  I swallowed. "I don't know, but we're here to find out. Grimwart's rallying his troops. One of them might have heard something."

  He sighed. "The second we woke him up, this ceased to be a stealth mission."

  I frowned as I took his meaning. "We need to move fast, then. Let's follow his lead and split up. Keep in touch with party chat. Worst case, if I can't get back to you, I'll return to Stronghold and immediately teleport back to your position."

  "I'll be fine." The brooding thief flexed his jaw. "Let's do it."

  "And stay out of trouble. If I get caught I can go poof. You can't and you have the antidote Hex needs."

  "I'll be careful. Let's get this over with." He shut the access hatch and picked a large corridor to search.

  I continued on my own way, wondering if I should've shared my misgivings with Crux. The last thing I wanted to do was worry him, but I'd gotten to know Hadrian a little in three days as my prisoner. He might've been a blue-collar guy but he had a superiority complex. Not book read but cold practicality. If he wasn't smarter than someone then at least he had more sense. This was most pronounced when he felt the need to gloat, to brandish his successes over everyone else's failures.

  Hadrian was the one with a prisoner now. A player, a member of the Black Hats, and the twin sister of a kid who dared to defy him. Everything in my being told me the Whisperer would make an example of the young necromancer. That meant Hex would be widely visible as a warning to those who opposed him instead of gathering dust in a closet.

  In a short time it felt like I was on the other side of the castle. I was weary and tired and in bad spirits when I was startled by voices ahead.

  I hurried to find light filling the halls. It wasn't from sconces on this floor, but from an overlook and another grand set of stairs. A line of sages marched along the banister. "Speed to the courtyard!" they cried. I waited as they passed and then climbed the stairs and went after them, making sure to stay out of sight.

  Large double doors opened on an exterior wall. Sunlight overtook the glitched lighting of Oakengard. Outside, the fortress' main courtyard was spacious, full of mustering units of knights wearing black and purple. Sparks of violet arced across some of the soldiers, but plenty of them were untouched by the plague. Like the sages I was following. I wondered how many were just soldiers following orders versus assimilated peons. That dichotomy made the political dynamic very complicated.

  The line of twenty sages, led by Speaker Harroway, pressed outside and stomped to the nearest unit.

  "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded.

  The violet knights were puzzled. Some bowed their heads and saluted, others glanced around the yard awkwardly. I stood at the open doorway, afraid to expose myself to full sunlight.

  "Philosopher Mara has ceased communications with my order," continued the old man. "The keepers refuse to allow any of our discipline into the Speculum."

  "Do you not trust our Protector?" boomed a voice from the outer wall. The seven-foot-tall Rygar strode close and smiled at the speaker. "Hadrian is preparing our march. The sages should do their part to contribute to the war effort."

  Harroway studied the man's purple uniform. "What is this? The Protector has no right to dictate which audiences the Trinity allows."

  "The Trinity is antiquated," said Rygar.

  The old man's eyes wavered. "What sayeth you, dear friend? That is insolence."

  "You were the one who told me to go along, did you not?"

  "Yes, but we have processes which must be followed to ensure equanimity."

  Rygar smiled, and some of the knights laughed. "You talk in circles, dear friend."

  More laughter joined in and Harroway reddened. "I thought you were a knight! If you will do nothing, I will take a hundred sages and storm the Speculum." He turned and admonished the collecting crowd. "Have you abandoned the ideals of your caste? Is duty noble when it cannot be questioned? I will get to the bottom of this and shine a light on any involved! I will—"

  A yellow sword punched through Harroway's chest from behind. The speaker's eyes went cross and he fell to the ground. The group of wise men blinked in disbelief. The shock wore off quick. Swords scraped from their sheaths and panic overtook the sages as they tripped over themselves trying to escape the murderous knights.

  1770 Blood Bowl

  "Get them!" screamed Rygar.

  Knights of the Violet Order cut down the defenseless sages. Crusaders in black drew their weapons to halt the affront, but the Violet Order turned on them too. The courtyard transformed into a battlefield of blood and clanging metal.

  Both black and purple took losses, either too slow to heal or too zealous in attack. A string of keepers rushed the courtyard. Instead of keeping order, the golems energized with violet went after the true crusaders. Once wounded and weakened, they were latched onto by the stone guardians, just as I'd seen with Rygar. Uniforms changed to violet before my eyes. The knights stood, renewed, and turned on their brothers.

  Hadrian no longer required the Trinity to spread his plague.

  "This way!" cried Grimwart. He appeared on horseback atop the steps of a side entrance. Artax neighed as the colonel waved in the soldiers that were still his.

  I debated running across the battlefield to join them but ultimately decided we could regroup inside. I didn't want to get anywhere near that purple energy. I backed into the fortress as my eyes ran over the massacre. The twenty sages were dead, mowed down from behind as they'd attempted to flee. All they had wanted was the truth.

  Frantic buzzing came at my back. I turned as several keepers approached, glowing red.

  "Oh shit."

  I sped down a hallway. While most of the guardians charged outside, a few broke away to pursue me. I was no longer unseen.

  Talon: We've worn out our welcome! I need the extraction team ready at the portal. We've got a group of friendlies coming in hot.

  I skidded through a sealed door on my way toward the crusaders. Sounds of battle ahead confirmed that the keepers were onto them too. I charged into a wild scene. Halls that were once empty were rife with combat. Crusaders in black stuffed the corridors, more than the ones coming from outside. They were everywhere, driving back purple knights and rogue keepers.

  My first reaction was relief. Grimwart had succeeded in rallying a dominant force. The soldiers fought together as unified military units and defended their fellow man. But there were cracks in the noble front. Some of them were turning. A few had been petrified. It was clear after analysis that this was a battle that couldn't be won, and the longer we fought on, the more the tide would turn.

  "Retreat to the fast travel!" I commanded. "Go! Go! Go!"

  I sidestepped as another door opened to a line of keepers. It was foolish, but I didn't feel safe even as a shadow. The crusaders backed away too, some of them bravely guarding the rear, sacrificing themselves so that others had a chance to escape.

  Talon: How are you doing, Crux? We're out of time.

  Crux: The bottom floor's empty. Hex isn't here.

  Talon: We'll rethink it. Get to the fast travel as fast as you can.

  Crux: But my sister.

  Talon: It can't be helped.

  It hurt to say it. We were leaving Hex behind a second time, but it was what it was. Our sear
ch of Oakengard was over and the battle had begun. Even a pacifist would see that.

  We sprinted down the last hall and entered the portal room from the opposite direction we'd used before. A keeper brute stood in our path, twice the height of the three guardians accompanying him. They walled off our exit.

  Talon: Extraction team, we need an assist!

  Lash: Gladius is sending us through.

  Bravo Team blinked onto the fast-travel portal right behind the quartz guardians. Kyle was there too, glugging from his legendary decanter. The keeper brute spun around as Kyle turned to a treant and attacked. The electrical magic animating the guardians fizzled against his wooden arms. The brute was driven back.

  [Lash] cast Spell Armor

  +25% magic resistance for the next 30 seconds.

  [Glinda] cast White Circle

  +20% magic resistance and +10% non-physical damage resistance for the next 60 seconds.

  [Conan] used Blood Frenzy

  As the group buffs energized the pack of crusaders, the barbarian hacked at the surprised keepers and opened our way. Grimwart charged into the room atop Artax and bashed his bastard sword into a keeper's head. "Forward!" he ordered.

  A line of knights pushed into the circle of tiles. I opened the dev menu and sent them through.

  "Next!" he cried, galloping through resistance and sending more friendlies ahead.

  "What happened to Hex?" asked Lash between erecting shield walls. The portal room was turning into a funnel, safety in the center and melee at the edges.

  "Didn't find her yet," I answered. "We found Grimwart on the bottom floor. It seemed promising but she wasn't there."

  Conan's axe sliced through the energy of a keeper's neck, resulting in a miss. Before his opponent could take advantage of the misstep, Kyle bashed him away. Metal weapons were a weakness against Oakengard, but Conan was so frenzied or so crazy he didn't care. Combat raged on as I sent another pack of crusaders to Stronghold.

 

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