War Aeternus: The Beginning

by Charles Dean

  Lee jerked his attention away from Miller just in time to see the wounded guard close in on him. He frantically jerked his bow up between them, blocking the guard’s first attack like the others had done to him so many times already. He jumped backward as soon as the guard’s sword was deterred, dropped the bow, and drew his own two swords just in time to parry an onslaught of attacks. Slowly, step by step, he was pressed back into the shed by the guard’s relentless series of stabs and thrusts and hacks and slashes. He kept looking for an opportunity to counterattack, but the guard never offered one, and he never slowed his attacks. Even though his opponent’s form was absolutely horrible, the constant rain of attacks never gave Lee the chance to take the initiative.

  What’s with this guy? He’s not nearly as good of a swordsman as the lot from that last group of riffraff who attacked us, but he’s unrelenting. Ah! Everyone I saw in here was a Human, so, they’re probably not players. They must just be NPCs like everyone in town! That would explain why he’s so sloppy with his form!

  He risked another quick glance around and was pleased to see that everything seemed to be going as planned so far. The door was barricaded, and he and Miller only had the two guards to contend with, not counting the two others who were guarding the slaves, and that was it. All it was going to take was a good two-on-two fight followed up by another two vs. two, and given how well Miller and Lee had handled the encounter on the way here, he was rather sure of himself.

  All that practice with Ling is paying off. Lee smiled when he realized that he was exerting little to no effort in his fight and was able to keep up with parrying the guard’s blows. He moved his swords back and forth just enough to stop the rain of amateurish blows, but he was careful not to ever let one weapon stray too far to the side and leave himself open. Yet, despite the wound in his shoulder and the ease with which Lee was able to deflect his attacks, the guard showed no signs of letting up in his attacks. So, Lee patiently watched and waited while looking for an opening.

  When his opponent clumsily thrust toward his chest, Lee found his opportunity. He tilted his body to the side and used one sword to parry the attack, pushing it off course and away from his body, and stabbed forward with his other sword, piercing into the guard’s shoulder close to where the arrow had struck. His blade dug in deeper than he had expected, given that the guard likely still had plenty of hit points, and the man let out a groan of pain.

  Lee stole a glance over at Miller as he parried an incoming blow and repeated the same process of moving the guard’s blade to the side with his left weapon and thrusting forward again with his right. Miller was doing well enough. He didn’t seem to be having any more much trouble with his opponent than Lee was, even though he was mostly just swinging his spear wildly. Like the guards, he had absolutely no finesse in his attacks; but, where their opponents were lacking, Miller’s strength compensated for his lack of skill. Each time Miller parried a blow, his opponent was forced back another step by the Firbolg’s brute strength, effectively keeping the guard off balance and bouncing around from side to side. Even though Miller had entered the fight injured, the fact that the swordsman facing off against him couldn’t ever get proper footing long enough to launch anything more than a desperate attack gave Miller an undeniable advantage. That said, Miller couldn’t make progress or manage anything close to a damaging blow either. At the rate things were going, it'd be half an hour before Miller could kill the guard, and that was assuming the guard didn’t start reading Miller’s pattern and turn the tables on him.

  Well, at least the one I’m against isn’t that tough. Lee was doing his best to angle his blade such that his opponent’s thrusts and slashes would come up shy. Things will be perfectly fine at this—

  “ENEMY AT THE BARRACKS!” someone shouted from the direction of the slave quarters.

  Crap, crap, crap, crap. Lee panicked as soon as he looked over in the direction of the shout. There were four humans running in his direction. Two of them were the young men that Ethan had spotted earlier, the wardens from the slave quarters, and each was decked out in leather armor with tower shields and short swords. The other two were the old couple that Lee had actually followed up here. Weren’t they talking to the guy with the green notebook? Shouldn’t they be locked in the sleeping quarters with the other troops? When did they leave? Why are they over there? Lee’s heart raced as quickly as the questions flitting through his head. He had a little doubt in his ability to handle two of them, but now there were four more pouring in. If any one was half as competent as the one facing Miller, then there was a good chance that he wouldn’t be able to handle him, much less four more, yet here he was about to be swarmed.

  With his attention diverted to the group attacking him, Lee missed dodging a simple thrust from the guard whom he had been handling so well a moment ago. Having slipped around to the side, the other man successfully stabbed him in the back, shaving off 17 hit points. The pain was sharp and pierced through him like an electric jolt. Rather than hollering or screaming out in pain and making his situation worse, Lee snapped back to reality and the fight in front of him that he was already engaged in.

  Quickly, he formulated the best plan he could think of: I have to run. The guard tried to get lucky with another stab, and Lee decided that this was the best chance he was going to get. He slashed out with his own blade as hard as he could, knocking the guard’s sword straight into the dirt. The maneuver left Lee’s in an awkward position, unable to return any attack of his own, but he wasn’t planning on one anyway.

  Lee was about to bolt toward Miller but realized they might lose interest in him and kill his Firbolg friend if he did that. No, I have to run this way. Lee hightailed it out of the storage room and took a sharp right so that he was going around the warehouse instead. It would appear to anyone watching that he had simply given up and was just running away, but in reality, he was also doing something he had never done before: praying. He was praying to his actual God, not Augustus, that he might live through the day. Can you even hear me in this world? Lee asked, feeling oddly religious as he held the wound in his back and ran as best he could. He could practically feel them behind him. He knew that they were hot on his trail, and once all five of them reached him, he was likely going to die. But that didn’t mean that he could afford to give up hope altogether.

  As he rounded past the corner of the building and started running in a circle around the warehouse, Ethan came soaring in to the rescue. He swooped down out of the night sky and straight onto the old man’s face. When the man’s wife saw the flying mouse clawing at her husband’s eyes, she turned and swung a fist at him. Ethan scampered up onto the man’s balding crown just before the punch landed, breaking the old man’s nose.

  The man’s own two hands were reaching up to grab Ethan before the blow came, but the snap to the nose stopped them half-raised in the air.

  “Sorry!” the woman apologized as her husband winced and covered his face. Ethan scampered down the man’s back, tearing at the old man’s flesh with his tiny claws as best he could as he scurried down the man’s spine, and Lee heard the tiny rodent angrily cursing in mouse squeaks with each stab and rip and tear. None of the scratches was going to do a lot of damage on their own, but they were adding up quickly, and both the old man and his wife proved useless at stopping the mouse’s assault. The old man couldn’t reach the mouse as he ran back and forth around his back, and each of the woman’s attempts to grab Ethan ended with her beating on her husband instead.

  “Get it off me!” he screamed, doing his best to twist, turn and bend in such a way as to grab the furry little creature. “Grab this rat! Get it off me!”

  Upon hearing himself being called ‘a rat,’ Ethan let out a particularly loud squeak and sank his teeth into the man’s back near the base of his neck. The small rodent must have hit a nerve because the man’s leg began shaking uncontrollably, his body started spasming, and he collapsed to the ground unable to support his weight.

 
; The woman shrieked in horror as she watched Ethan crawl around her to husband’s neck and viciously tear at his throat, finishing the man off and causing Lee to send a mental ‘AWESOME! THANK YOU!’ over to encourage him further and thank him for his work.

  Your party has killed Herbert the Green Hat. Your party has been awarded 48 copper, one silver dagger and 55 Experience. Your share of this is 24 copper, one silver dagger and 28 Experience.

  Unable to do anything to help her departed husband, the lady clearly decided that it was in her best interest to chase after Lee rather than stick around to become the rabid rodent’s second victim. After staring at the dead body for a brief moment, she took off after Lee once again.

  Lee circled the warehouse as soon as the man bit the dust, and he was just beginning to believe that everything would turn out okay if he could just keep running. Little Ethan was already looking for high ground and preparing to jump down and strike his second victim, and the guard he had engaged with was already injured from their fight earlier. If Ethan could finish off another enemy, or if Miller managed to free himself up and come to help as well, it would quickly turn into an even match-up instead of five people ganging up on Lee. Those were odds he could manage.

  His excitement didn’t last long, however, as he noticed all too late that only two of the guards, one with a tower shield and the guy he had stabbed, were actually chasing him.

  Wait, where is the— Lee couldn’t even finish the thought before a heavy shield slammed into his face so hard that he was stopped dead in his tracks and sent rolling five feet to the side as he careened off the shield.

  “That’ll teach you to run, you little upstart punk,” the man who struck him barked loudly.

  Lee didn’t even stop rolling before the two people behind him caught up to him and began kicking him in the ribs. Lee wanted to yell for help, but he knew that it was pointless. Ethan was already doing everything he could before Lee had his bell rung. The little mouse soared toward the old lady at rapid speed to begin his second geriatricide for the night and prove that the combat efficiency boost to the golem sculptures was no laughing matter.

  Lee struggled to stand up. He was already down to 89 hit points from the two-to-five damage kicks and the ten-damage hit from the tower shield, and it took everything he had just to find the will to keep going. There has to be a solution, he told himself as another 2 hit points were shaved off by a kick. This can’t be the end of it. He expected another series of blows to land any second, or worse another hit from the tower shield, but he only heard a small grunt of pain from the man with the tower shield as he was pushed forward and forced to catch himself so that he didn’t fall off balance.

  What the heck? Lee tried to use Ethan’s eyes to see what was going on, but the only thing he could catch a glimpse of was the old lady’s hair. The guard turned to face the direction from which he had been struck, the other two guards doing likewise, and Lee decided not to second guess good luck and used this chance to slowly push himself back to his feet.

  When he was finally back on his feet, he was able to get a good idea of what had happened: someone had shot the guard in the back. Great! Now he’s bleeding! Lee grabbed his weapons and, taking advantage of the chaos, he stabbed the soldier he had already wounded in the gut. The best thing he could hope for was finishing one off, and this guy was the most likely candidate. He hadn’t removed Lee’s original arrow, he had to be taking damage over time on top of all the previous stab wounds. Depending on his level, he might be close to defeat himself, and a few more stabs were likely to do the trick.

  Thank you, mysterious archer, Lee thought as he rushed in for a quick thrust. Unfortunately, the stab never landed. The guard turned and parried Lee’s blade, and the other used the opening Lee presented to slam his shield into his rib cage, practically shattering the bones there and knocking Lee’s hit points down to 62. As if to rub salt into the fresh wound, a status message popped to let him know that the situation was even worse than he had imagined:

  Your rib has been broken, and you have suffered internal organ damage. You will take one point of damage every five seconds until healed.

  Lee gritted his teeth against the pain and pushed the message out of his mind. He was determined to maintain focus, and he was still somehow managing to fight using both swords. He swung at the wounded guard with as much effort as he could manage, and was rewarded by feeling his sword cleanly slice into the man’s flesh. Unlike Lee’s previous attempts, he cut deeply into the left side of the man’s abdomen and into his stomach. Blood gushed from the wound when Lee withdrew his sword and quickly soaked the man’s armor.

  Your party has killed Jian Fu. Your party has been awarded 1 silver and 52 copper, one box of unwritten letters and 48 Experience. Your share of this is 76 copper, and 24 Experience.

  Lee barely managed to dodge another hard attack from the other guard as he pulled his sword free. “Not this time,” he grunted. He might have fallen for that trick once, but he wasn’t going to be caught unaware so easily again.

  Taking advantage of the fact that there was a brief moment of space between him and his assailants, he risked a quick glance around to see what was happening with the other of the two goons. Almost instantly, he caught sight of one chasing after a girl. Is that . . .? Lee didn’t even need to finish the thought. He already knew the answer before the question even started forming in his mind. Without a doubt, there was no other girl in Satterfield even half as beautiful as Ling. If she’s fighting with a bow, and he’s closing in on her with a shield, there’s no way she’s going to win!

  His natural instinct was to take off running again, to try and draw out the guards until they were in a one-on-one scenario so that Ethan would have time to catch up, but all of that changed the moment he saw Ling.

  She’s not even real! A distant part of his brain screamed as he adjusted his footing. Ignoring the pain in his side, he darted to the side, making a semi-circle around the man with the shield, and headed straight for the guy chasing after Ling.

  Due to physical exertion, your wound is losing hit points at a faster rate.

  The game made sure to remind him he was being stupid, but it only told him something he already knew. For some reason, his body just wouldn't listen to his brain, and he slammed full speed into the man he was chasing. The guard tripped over his own feet due to the extra momentum provided by Lee and was sent flying forward, crashing face-first into his own shield. It wasn’t much of an attack, and probably didn’t do much damage to the man, but it was enough to get him off of Ling’s trail for a moment. Unfortunately, it also shaved off another three hit points from Lee due to the injuries he already had.

  Lee winced at the sharp, stabbing pain in his side as he pushed himself onto his knees and then back to his feet. It definitely wasn’t the smartest or fanciest maneuver he had ever come up with, but it had been effective. He spared Ling a quick glance, shot her a half-hearted smile and then took off toward the prisoners’ quarters. His plan wasn’t playing out anything close to what he had hoped, but there might still be a way to salvage part of it if he was lucky. He hated having to leave her to deal with the guard alone, but now that he had given her the chance to reposition herself and had created some distance between them, she would have a better chance of holding her own.

  She probably has his body riddled with arrows by now. Ugh . . . Lee grimaced and clutched at his side as he ran. Forty-one hit points left and dropping. If this keeps up, I’m going to bleed out just from injuries.

  He shot a look over his shoulder. Still after me? Yeah, Ling is fine. He wanted to sigh, but his lungs were taking in more air than they had ever managed before as he piled straight toward the prisoners’ building.

  He looked over at Miller, hoping that perhaps he wouldn’t need to keep running, that Miller would have already finished his opponent and would be able to bail him out of this jam, but he had no such luck. Miller was still in a heated one-on-one fight with that stupid boss-level guard
, grinning like he had just won the lottery even as the man parried his attacks and started to force him backward. Is he happy because the fight is so close, or is he happy because he got to burn so many people alive? Lee wondered if there would be death ticks coming from the guards inside soon. Will they die of burn damage or smoke inhalation? Why didn’t I get an extensive strategy guide to this game from Augustus?

  Lee reached the door to the slave quarters, ripped it open with all of his strength and then slammed it shut behind him as he stepped inside.

  I can’t stop the bleeding. This is it for me. There was a sort of cold and solemn feel bred into each thought as the realization struck him. He grabbed a flimsy chair, broke off one of the limbs and shoved it in the door before turning around.

  He looked at the prisoners, stacked like sardines and staring straight at him, barely visible in the candlelight.

  “It’s over,” he told them, not exactly sure how he was supposed to make a speech. “I’ve come here to save you, and you’re saved.”

  Silence.

  Well, if I’m going out . . . Lee heard a bang at the door and looked over. It was probably the guy who had been chasing him come to finish the job. “Does anyone have a bandage? Something to patch this wound up?” he asked as he indicated his injury, trying to cling onto one last shred of hope.

  Still silence, but a few heads shook their answer. Why are most of them women? Wouldn’t men make better miners? Is that a sexist thought? I’m an idiot. If there were a bandage, Ethan would have found it. He felt stupid for wasting his time asking that question. “Look, I don’t have long left until I return to heaven, so I’m going to make this quick. I’ve come here by the will of the great god Augustus to free you. I am here to deliver unto you the life you once had, no matter how much the memories of days past will scar it,” he added, not wanting to paint it as some happily-ever-after for them. They’d probably been abused in ways he didn’t want to think about in addition to being beaten and forced to work all day. That sort of thing wasn’t going to go without leaving a few marks here and there on their psyche.