“I didn’t think of that,” says Sam, clearly upset with herself for not thinking of it earlier. I suppose that is the problem with always competing with yourself, sometimes you lose no matter what you do. Or something.
Dammit, MIND, shut up.
“It is theoretically possible,” Lothar adds. “And rather than walking this entire way, we should have traveled like that. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!”
“I can’t believe I did.”
He laughs jovially. “I agree, I can’t believe you did as well, Oric.”
I look to Wolf for support and he yawns.
“You’re going to need to wake your ass up, Wolf, we’ve got a long night ahead.”
He lays down, his back to me, his tail flopping against the ground.
“Let’s try it then.” Sam touches my arm. Her wand appears in her hand and a wisp of pink magic spirals around its tip.
One pink flash later and we stand about fifty feet away, looking back at Lothar and Wolf.
“Holy … ”
Wolf barks and trots in our direction. With her hand on her wand, Sam waits for the sand to trickle to the other side. Wolf reaches us, and as he does, Sam whispers the incantation and boom! We are fifty feet further from where we just stood.
“It works!” I say, Wolf barking madly now as he chases after us. “And as an aside, this is a great way to play with Wolf.”
Sam examines her hourglass and frowns.
“What?”
“It’s warm, not piping hot or anything, but warm enough that I think we should let it cool down before trying again. I believe I’m ready to try to send us further away.”
“That’s fine,” I tell her as I place my hand on her shoulder. “As long as it gets us there, we can take our time.” I bite my lip and consider my next words carefully. “And as long as it gets us away, because that’s the next obstacle, getting the hell out of there with the First Artifact once we’ve killed Broken.”
Wolf reaches us, panting now.
“I have spells for that too, for retreat.”
“Good, because if there is a fan in Unigaea, shit is about to hit said fan.”
Sam nods. “Wolfie, come over here.” She drops as he approaches and runs her fingers behind his ears. “You’re not going to like this, buddy.”
The ground shakes and we turn to see Lothar approaching us.
(^_^)
Sam and I get on Wolf’s back, Sam’s wand at the ready. The scholarly giant stands behind us with his hands clasped together and his chin held high. He’s still upset about the perceived injustice of keeping him here, but really, it’s safer this way, and the logical part of him must know that.
“And we’ll be able to travel using Time Skip once you get back?” Lothar asks. “To the Rune Lands?”
Sam lowers her wand, and thinks it over. “There was nothing in my book that said anything about the number of objects or the size of the objects that I can transport. Just as long as I’m touching them. But still, I’ll need recharge time.”
“Fine,” he says, kicking at the dirt. He drops onto his meditations box. “I’ll be here waiting.”
“I’ll bring you a trophy from the fight. How’s that sound?”
“A trophy?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, “the First Artifact. Let’s go, Sam.”
“Bye guys,” says Lothar as he kicks his feet at the dirt.
A pink flash later and the three of us are half a mile closer to enemy lines. Sam immediately drops her free hand to Wolf’s head and pets him softly. “It’s okay,” she tells him, “just relax.”
I can tell by the movement of his muscles that he is anything but relaxed. “You’ll be fine,” I say, “just a few more trips. But let’s rest for five minutes or so.”
I get off Wolf and offer Sam my hand. Once she gets down, Wolf quickly runs to the right and starts to dry heave.
“So the dog doesn’t like water, and he doesn’t like teleportation magic. Anything else he doesn’t like?” Sam asks.
“He doesn’t like fuckboys, but you and I both know that there’s nothing either of us can do about that.”
“Fuckboys? Is that a Chicago word or anachronism?” She places her hand on her hourglass necklace and smooths her fingers over the cracks. The sky is clear, and while it is dark, its crimson color paired with a brighter than normal moon gives everything an infrared glow, including Sam’s face.
“I don’t know where I heard that word. Maybe a goblin.”
She laughs. “So you hang out with goblins now?”
“Not yet.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means I have no idea where my digital life will take me five or ten years from now. Hell, by 2075, I may be in a guild with a goblin. There’s no telling.”
“You’re exhausting, Oric.”
“Good, let’s rest then. How about your place? Is the Warp Rider Hotel open for business tonight?”
She laughs. “Yeah, it’s open, if, and only if, we make it through this mission.”
“And Wolf can come?”
“Who will keep Lothar company?”
“His scrolls and books can keep him company. If he were from our world, he could just dive to a Proxima world to pass the time.”
“Be nice to Lothar.”
“I’m kidding. I actually really like him, when he’s quiet.”
“Which is never.”
“And when he helps us in combat.”
“Which is rare.”
“But he’s getting better. At least he hasn’t rattled off about being a pacifist recently. You ready?”
She nods. “Let’s do this.”
Sam stands next to Wolf and places her hand on his shoulder. I place my hand on hers, and with another pink flash, we’re standing only about a quarter mile away from the Stater war camp.
Just seeing the Stater banners and knowing Florin Talonas is somewhere in the mess of those gathered boils my blood. But avenging Deathdale is a foolhardy plan, and I’ve learned firsthand the pyrrhic aftermath of revenge.
So I swallow my desire to see to Florin’s end.
“What are you thinking about?” asks Sam.
“I’m just remembering some stuff.”
“Okay, vague. But that’s fine. You ready to get changed?”
With the snap of my fingers, I’m out of my Giant Slayer armor and in my Stater gear. Sure, the griffin emblems have been buffed out, but it’s night and the odds of someone seeing this fact or caring about it are slim.
“I’m glad we agreed not to try the prisoner route again,” Sam says, “even though you suggested it.”
“Hey, it worked in Tangka, why wouldn’t it work here?” I shrug her off. “Anyway, nothing’s odd about our current infiltration plan. Just a handsome Stater guy with his Tag and his main squeeze?”
She cringes. “Main squeeze?”
“I thought we were going with the you’re-my-mage-girlfriend act if anyone asks.”
“Main squeeze just sounds gross.”
“What about mage squeeze? That has a ring to it.”
“Even worse.”
“Fine, you’re right. Actually, I have no idea why people used to say main squeeze.”
“You’re all about anachronisms tonight.”
“I guess I’m feeling nostalgic,” I tell her as we walk to the camp.
We’re far enough behind enemy lines now that I don’t believe we’ll have any trouble, at least I hope not. That’s another thing we’ve agreed to do – keeping it as casual looking as possible – which is why I’m going for the light banter as we approach the encampment.
We pass our first soldier, an orc in tight Stater armor. The brute has a face full of warts, an overbite the best dentist in the world would have little hope of correcting, and pierced, cauliflower ears.
[Orc, Level 6]
He eyes us for a moment as he whips out his pecker. As he pisses, a jagged smile forms on his face, especially as he takes Sam in.<
br />
I feel her hand lightly fall on my arm.
Behave, Oric.
I’m trying to, I tell the voice in my head.
“Fancy night to take a piss,” says the orc, his stream of piss like that of a horse. “Wouldn’t mind giving your lady there a golden shower.”
Easy, Oric.
Sam’s wand materializes in her hands and she whispers, “Chrono Stasis.”
The orc is suddenly frozen in time; even the arc of piss streaming from his dick is completely stationary.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Sam laughs. “I don’t want to get that close to it.”
“I’m wearing gauntlets, so it really doesn’t matter.”
“Hurry then, and no more bullshit like this after. We’re too close to the camp.”
“Completely agreed, but this will be worth it.”
Wolf watches me curiously as I step over to the orc and angle the hand holding his pecker up, so his healthy stream of piss will now reach his face. I move back over to Sam, and after a very awkward thirty seconds, time speeds up for the orc.
“Fuck!” he shouts as his own piss sprays into his mouth. He curses more as he tries to get his dick under control.
Sam and I move on, huge smiles on both of our faces, the orc too distracted with pissing in his own face to give a shit about us any longer. Once we reach the edge of the camp, I can’t help but laugh out loud. “Damn, I really, really wish we had thought to use your magic for pranks earlier on.”
“There will be plenty of time for pranks later, I hope.”
Wolf snorts.
“He thinks it was funny too.”
I stare into his big blue-green eyes hoping for some indication that he understands the practical joke we just played.
“I don’t know if he’s that smart.”
“If we had more time to level, I’d put all his points in MIND, and he’d be as chatty as Lothar by the end.”
“That’d be interesting,” Sam says, as we pass a campfire with soldiers sitting around it.
Two great cauldrons rest on their sides next to the campfire, and by the way the soldiers sit, their bellies extended and their armor off, I’d say Florin is getting these men ready for a long day tomorrow.
No one gives a shit about us, which is music to my ears. We hardly elicit a glance as we move deeper into the camp, passing tents of varying sizes.
“Pardon,” Sam calls over to a Player Character with the top portion of his armor unequipped. “We’ve just arrived from Tin Ingot. Is there a camp map?”
“You didn’t get the prompt?” he asks, not the least bit suspicious.
“We were wondering about that,” I say. “I figured it’d be automatic.”
With a wave of the man’s hand a prompt appears and Sam accepts it. “Great,” she says. “And thanks!”
“Wait, where did you guys say you were from again?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at Sam.
“Tin Ingot.”
“And you just now joined the war party? Tin Ingot was nearly destroyed two days ago.”
My heart sinks as I remember the gnomes, Arun and Chantrea. I hope they made it out, and something tells me they did.
“Of course we remember,” Sam laughs him off. “We were there! Came from Mohar to join that battle, but we stuck around for a little bit, just to see if there were any Player Characters we could pick off.”
“Okay,” he says, slowly backing away. “It was more brutal of a battle than I thought it would be, but it was necessary.”
“Yes,” I agree, gritting my teeth. “Necessary to see Talonas’ plan to completion.”
The soldier shrugs. “Still, women and children. A lot were caught in the crossfire.”
“They’re only NPCs,” Sam says with a tone of cruelness to her voice that I know is fake, yet sounds completely convincing.
Wolf growls and I place my hand on his head.
“Don’t mind him. He’s one of the new wolves; still getting used to being this far south,” I say.
“Aye, I’ve seen that happen with the Tag wolves. They are quite stubborn.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty stubborn, but not as bad as some of the others.”
The man steps away. “Well, good luck tomorrow.”
“Same to you.”
And just as I say this, a fiery explosion ignites the front of the camp.
We all turn right to hear screaming. While I can’t see burning people yet, the flicker of flames in the distance and the way people now run towards us shouting “pyro afflicted!” can mean only one thing.
Just as Sam predicted, the Obelisk has gone for a preemptive strike.
(^_^)
“Kill them all!” Someone should shout it, and since Stater’s finest are running around like a bunch of pussies, I figured that someone should be me. “Kill them all!” I scream again. Besides, the more distractions the better.
Sam laughs as I brandish my Splintered Sword. “My turn. To the north! Kill them all!”
Wolf barks madly in the direction of the battle, not smart enough to realize that those are our people over there. At least I hope they are. Truth is, I’m not certain that the afflicted will distinguish us from their enemies, and I’m sure that the Meticans riding on their little ponies – once they do reach us – won’t give a fuck either way.
Stater forces, NPCs, RPCs, and Player Characters alike start to move past us, some of them still in the process of equipping their armor. The afflicted are hard as hell to kill, and the psychological aspect of having a flaming zombie descend upon you is hard for many to handle.
I wouldn’t be surprised if those that are able to log out do once they see what the fire is all about.
“This way!” Sam shouts.
I whistle for Wolf and Sam drops her hand, catches mine, and for a moment, we run through the soon-to-be battle like two little school kids in love.
I let go and leap over a barrel that has been knocked over. We need perspective, a vantage point, and I can tell by the way the tents span in the distance that they slope up a hill.
I point towards it, and Sam and I advance on the hill.
The Stater military has set up a lookout on this hill, as it is the highest point on the battlefield. Men with industrial-sized spyglasses observe the battle, and make notes on charts. The area is well lit by lanterns affixed to high poles, and a table with a map on it has been erected at the back of the lookout.
Once we’re near the men, I turn and try to get a sense of the battle.
Just as I predicted, the right side of the battlefield is all fire, and upon closer examination, I can see the fires reflecting off the polished armor the Stater soldiers wear. Trebuchets are being rolled out, and I can barely make out the outlines of warrior women on horses, moving south and west with the hopes of flanking the ambushed Staters.
“See anything unusual?” I ask Sam.
A trebuchet fires, the rock smashing into a pile of approaching afflicted. Their flames fan out, but unless one is directly under the rock, the eternally burning corpses press forward.
I hear the griffin’s screech and look left, watching as one lifts into the air.
“It’s Talonas,” I say, even though the man riding the griffin isn’t fully clear to me. I can see his cape though, and my gut tells me it’s him.
Sam shakes her head. “That’s not who we’re here for, much as I’d like to kill him as well.”
“Got it, I know.” Deep breath in and I clear my throat. “But if he’s going out to play, Broken likely isn’t too far off. Let’s keep an eye on him. Better yet …” I move to the top of the hill and ask one of the observers for a spare spyglass. He obliges, and I bring it back down to Sam. “It’s amazing what wearing this armor can do.”
I take a look through the spyglass, and while it is a bit hard to make out, I can definitely tell that the man now hovering above the battle is Florin. Red cape? Check. Flowing blond hair? Check. Commanding gestures? You got it. I’m too fa
r to get a reading on his handle, but it’s definitely him.
Come on, I think as I scan the area, looking for any sign of a high powered mage. My sign comes in the form of a dragon made of light, which appears seemingly out of nowhere.
A triangle filled with sigils forms around the dragon as it zips towards the front line of the afflicted.
“It’s Broken,” I tell Sam, “and the motherfucker has a dragon.”
Chapter Thirteen: Breaking Broken
Before I ask Sam to teleport us closer to Broken and his dragon, I take all of two seconds to reflect on the oddity of our current situation, how we’ve gone from heading north to see about the Red Plague, to an assassination mission bequeathed to us by the world’s NVA Seed.
My how shit changes.
I reach out for Sam’s arm and she touches Wolf. One pink flash later and we’re much closer to the action, Broken and his dragon of light circling above us.
Stater soldiers work on making perimeters, which makes me think that Florin Talonas is near.
Not our target, I remind myself.
A few of the afflicted have made their way to this part of the camp. The burning zombies shriek and bat their hands at a guild consisting of rogues and thieves. The cliché guild members use their speed to avoid the attacks, but the afflicted have strength in numbers, and soon one of the rogues has fire burning off his body.
“Give me some of your throwing knives,” Sam says. “Just in case.”
“Good call.” I hand her two blades and she pockets them. The afflicted move away from us, their bodies lighting the tents as they pass. In their wake are the guild of rogues, all of whom writhe as flames overtake them.
Gruesome.
“Oric.”
Wolf barks, also an attempt to get my attention.
“Sorry. The afflicted. They get to me every time.”
“Ignore them and get into position,” Sam tells me, taking charge.
“You stay on Wolf. If anything happens, I want you to be able to get out of here.”
A group of Stater soldiers riding wolves tear past us. Their wolves bark and snarl, the riders clearly a tier above some of the fighters we saw logging out earlier. As it does in all battles, the air has an electric feel to it, a kinetic energy.
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