Awaken Online: Dominion

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Awaken Online: Dominion Page 19

by Travis Bagwell


  The Death Knights broke apart in a flurry of bones, Jason’s last blow passing through the air as the skeleton dissolved before his eyes. “Shit,” he murmured, taking a few steps back to avoid being speared by the stray bones that now whipped through the room. He could at least use the opportunity to recover some of his waning Stamina.

  “Riley, down here,” he grunted, gesturing at the archer.

  Jason wasn’t really getting hit, and he didn’t have a good way to spend his mana. In contrast, Riley was already low on health and likely wouldn’t last for the rest of the fight. He needed to try to fix that, but, of course, he was going to have to gamble. Again.

  She dropped down lightly, her boots scuffing against the hard, stone floor. Jason gestured to one of her arrows. “Stab me with an arrow. Use Blood Mist,” he said, consciously de-summoning the bone armor around his left shoulder.

  Riley stared at him for a moment, her eyes a solid black with a circle of red in the center – evidence that she was constantly channeling her mana. She hesitated for a moment before grabbing an arrow from her quiver, the bolt shining a brilliant crimson. Then she stabbed it into his flesh. Jason let out a hissing breath as pain bloomed in his shoulder.

  A notification appeared in his peripheral vision.

  -103 Damage

  Bleeding: -80 damage per second.

  Limb Damage: reaction speed reduced by 15%.

  Several long seconds later, a red mist began to creep through the air, growing increasingly dense as it accumulated around Jason. It seemed that the game still registered him as a flesh and blood creature even with his health converted to mana. Good. The cloud could help regenerate some of Riley’s waning health, and the cost to Jason was relatively small, the bleeding effect only chipping away at his health pool after accounting for his regen. The restricted movement in his shoulder was irritating, but not insurmountable.

  The room apparently decided their reprieve was over. The maelstrom of bone that had been collecting had formed into a veritable army of Night Children, dozens of glowing black eyes now staring at them from around the room. The creatures hung from the nearby columns and skittered along the ground, occasionally dragging their claws against the stone floor which created a shower of sparks in their wake as their malevolent, dark orbs stared at the pair hungrily.

  The two groups watched each other warily, neither making a move as the moment stretched on interminably. And then both groups moved simultaneously. The horde of Night Children surged forward in a wave, their clawed hands tearing at the air as they raced toward the pair. Meanwhile, Jason lunged forward to fill the gap between the two mounds of bone, creating a pocket for Riley behind him.

  Jason blocked a pair of claws with his staff, whipping it in an arc to smash the other end into a Night Child’s face – the bone fracturing and splitting apart. He caught movement in his peripheral vision, time slowing slightly as he saw a Night Child lunge from the nearby mound. His arm came up, the boned ridges intercepting the blow and causing a shower of ivory dust. Then the skeleton was blown apart as an arrow smashed into it. Riley’s next two shots took out the creatures climbing over the mound behind her last target before she shifted her attention back to the main group. He could trust her to cover his flanks.

  Despite any other problems they might have, Riley had always had his back.

  He immediately whirled back to the oncoming group, his staff spinning and his bone shields fluttering around him rapidly. It took every ounce of concentration he had to keep the waves of creatures at bay. Riley’s Void Arrows occasionally created a pocket for a few precious seconds, just long enough to let Jason’s waning stamina keep up. The Blood Mist was also barely allowing her to keep casting as Jason endured most of the enemy’s assault.

  For a moment, Jason thought that they might be able to keep up this precarious dance until the challenge ended, but then the room threw them another curve ball. A bolt of dark energy suddenly raced through the air and crashed into Jason’s unprotected arm where he had warded off the Night Child. The energy ate into his flesh at an alarming rate, and he let out a scream of pain, momentarily dropping his guard.

  A pair of claws skittered across the armor on this thigh, scoring deep grooves in the bone. Riley stepped forward, her daggers flashing and ending the creature’s life as she picked up Jason’s position in the chokepoint between the two bone mounds. This gave Jason a second to recover, the dark mana beginning to dissipate and leaving ruined flesh in its wake.

  He didn’t have time to dwell on the injury, and his eyes scanned the room for his attacker. He soon found the creature, its six legs clinging to a crystalline column as its ruined maw readied another blast of obsidian energy. It seemed the room had created a variant of his Venom Spitters, filling their stomachs with dark energy instead of acid. Dozens more were skittering across the room, taking up positions on the crystalline columns to bombard the pair.

  “Damn it,” Jason muttered, shifting his bone shields to protect them. Obsidian energy soon crashed into the ivory discs, eating into their surface at a frightening pace. “Riley, there are Venom Spitters on the columns! You’ll need to focus on them. Get ready to switch,” he called. Riley could only spare a brief nod of acknowledgment as she continued to fend off the Night Children.

  “Switch!” Jason yelled, and they swiftly traded positions. Jason swung his staff in a wide arc as he stepped forward, slamming two of the small gray creatures aside and allowing Riley to pull back.

  If Jason had trouble concentrating before, he was nearly overwhelmed now – acting more on instinct and reflex than conscious thought. His bone shields hovered nearby, blocking the occasional spray of dark energy. His staff spun and danced through the air, blocking and slaying the Night Children as fast as he could. He was a flurry of motion, pushing himself well past his breaking point. At some point, he depleted his stamina and began drawing on his own health pool – his movements slowing further as pain wracked his limbs.

  Between his injuries and his weakening body, more of the Night Children’s blows were landing, tearing apart his Bone Armor. The occasional blow sunk into his flesh, causing black blood to spray into the air and stain his pale skin. Yet he didn’t have time to re-summon the armor.

  He refused to give up. He kept going, fighting through the pain and weakness. Ignoring the red notifications that were flashing in his peripheral vision, his field of vision funneled until all he saw was the weaving mass of bone that continuously crashed against him. He could only hope that Riley was still fighting behind him.

  Sheer will and stubbornness weren’t enough.

  The weakness refused to be ignored. His legs gave out, and Jason sunk to his knees on the hard, stone floor. He kept his staff moving and continued frantically summoning his bone shields, barely intercepting the blows that rained down on him as he neared his end. The notifications were even more insistent now – letting him know that his death was imminent.

  As Jason’s health began to redline, he heard a scream behind him. Two bolts of black energy had slammed into Riley’s chest, as Jason failed to intercept the missiles in time. The energy ate into her armor and skin hungrily, her lifeblood dripping down her stomach. She toppled to the ground, her eyes now vacant and lifeless.

  Dead. Riley’s dead.

  The thought was fuzzy and difficult to focus on. Yet the importance still sunk home. He felt anger well from deep within himself, feeding on the pain and frustration he had endured for the last few days. The endless, relentless training. The hearing with Gloria. The look on his parents’ faces. And then his thoughts centered on Riley’s vacant eyes.

  He wouldn’t lose here.

  He couldn’t.

  But it was futile. He was out of tricks, and his health was beginning to bottom out – even as his strength failed him. There was no magical solution to his problem, and no one was coming to bail him out of this situation. He looked up into the wave of claws descending upon him, dozens of darkly glowing eyes staring at his broken
and bleeding body dispassionately. Jason closed his eyes to blot out the image even as Alfred’s words echoed in his mind.

  “This world isn’t fair.”

  He was starting to agree,

  Strangely, a few long moments passed, and Jason was still alive. No claws ripped into his flesh, and no taunting blue notification had appeared in front of him. He tentatively opened his eyes to find that the army of Night Children had simply collapsed to the ground, their bones scattered across the room. The Venom Spitters had similarly dropped from their perches, their bodies crashing against the floor to the sound of cracking bone.

  And then a familiar array of voices resounded through the room.

  Challenge 1: A Trial of Bone has been completed.

  Congratulations, challengers!

  Chapter 18 - Hopeless

  Frank rode astride one of the skeletal wolves. The creatures’ paws rhythmically pounded the dirt as the remainder of their force rode through the dark forest. Vera was beside him, the undead general’s eyes skimming the road and nearby tree line carefully as they advanced. They needed to be cautious since their numbers had dwindled. They had left a full division back at the nest, tasked with breaking apart the den of bones and transporting the materials back to the Twilight Throne. Hopefully, Jason could come up with an idea for how to use the bones more constructively.

  The last few days in-game had been largely uneventful – filled with the logistics associated with deconstructing the nest and then traveling toward the first town directly west from the Twilight Throne. There hadn’t been any more encounters with the wild undead, although that didn’t curb Frank’s fears. If anything, things had been too quiet. Although, perhaps he was just used to a bit more death and mayhem in his adventures with Jason. His friend had become a lightning rod for conflict lately.

  As the group rounded a bend in the road, the advance line slowed. A wall loomed in the distance, signaling that they must have arrived at their destination. Even at this distance, Frank could pick out torches along the wall, the orange lights standing out like beacons amid the heavy darkness that hung over the forest. Despite his enhanced vision, some primitive part of Frank’s mind looked forward to seeing real light again.

  Vera immediately gestured for the undead to leave the road, the wolves filtering among the trees. Frank moved to join her by nudging his wolf forward with his knees. He could understand the undead woman’s caution in moving into the forest. They didn’t know what to expect with these towns – or how much resistance they might encounter in order to complete the goal Jason had set for them.

  “That must be Fastu,” Vera noted as Frank approached. She gestured to one of the soldiers, and they handed her a telescoping eyeglass – another of Cecil’s devices. The engineer had been forced to install a light mana crystal to make the device work in the gloomy haze of the Twilight Throne. She peered through the lens with one of her bleached white eyes. “They have constructed a rough wooden palisade around the perimeter which appears to be about ten feet tall. Ramps must be constructed along the interior since I see guards patrolling some sort of rampart.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion for a moment. “What is it?” Frank asked.

  “There are quite a few guards – more than I would have expected,” Vera commented. She tossed the eyepiece to one of the Kin. “This town seems to be on high alert – against what I’m not sure.”

  “Perhaps the wild undead? Like those we fought in the woods?” Frank asked. He hesitated for a moment. “Although, I suppose we haven’t seen much evidence of native undead this far from the city.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Vera replied with a curt nod. “The best we can do is be careful. The larger question then is how we wish to approach this town. Do we kill them all immediately or do we try to resolve this more peacefully?”

  Frank wavered as Vera gave him an expectant look – almost like she was quizzing him. His gaze dropped to his hands as he considered their options. If they approached the town, then they would give up the element of surprise. They had already lost Kin in the battle with the Wraithlings, and he didn’t wish to lose more. It wasn’t just that it was difficult to replace the soldiers, they were also just too real for Frank’s liking. His thoughts returned to the way the Kin salvaged parts of their own dead. A part of him recoiled at the idea of killing innocent villagers in cold blood, even if it might come to that eventually either here or with the other towns.

  He couldn’t help but ask himself what Jason would do. He’d probably come up with some clever speech as he had in Peccavi or trick the entire village into leaving… or… something. It had always been that way when the pair played together. Jason came up with their plans, and Frank executed them. Yet, Jason wasn’t here this time. Frank would have to make his own decision, and his gut told him to try the peaceful option.

  “I’d like to try talking to them first,” Frank offered, glancing at Vera. “If nothing else, we might discover why they are on guard. Since we already suspect that someone is messing with the natural balance among the native undead, it wouldn’t hurt to investigate.”

  “Fair enough,” Vera answered, eyeing him with a considering expression.

  I just hope this is the right approach, he thought.

  Not wasting any time, Vera immediately turned and began barking orders. A handful of the undead were instructed to encircle the camp and act as sentries. The remainder would come with Vera and Frank. The last thing they needed was to be caught alone at the palisade with a miniature army of archers aiming at them.

  Much too soon for Frank’s liking, the group approached the walls of Fastu with Frank and Vera riding at the head of the column of undead. As they neared the town, the archers on the wall took notice, nocking arrows and eyeing the group nervously. When they were only a couple dozen yards from the wall, Vera gestured at him.

  And I get to do the talking… Great.

  “Hello!” Frank shouted. “My name is Frank, left hand of the Regent of the Twilight Throne. I need to speak with the leader of your town.”

  The group on the wall shuffled slightly, glancing at each and then back at some point hidden within the town. Slowly, an older gentleman stepped up onto the rampart, eyeing Frank and the collection of undead behind him warily. It was strange for Frank to encounter humans after spending most of his time in the Twilight Throne – where decaying flesh and exposed bone was the norm.

  “My name is Corvin. I am the head elder of Fastu,” the old man said, his voice rasping and carrying faintly on the wind. He was dressed in a plain brown robe, and a thick cane kept him propped upright. “What business do you have here?”

  Frank abruptly decided that he should dissemble. Telling these villagers that he was here to take their village – voluntarily or by force – seemed… well, stupid. That might be a conversation that he should have with Corvin privately.

  “We are visiting the towns around the Twilight Throne at our Regent’s order.” He glanced at Vera as he tried to think of a more benign excuse for why they were there. She patted her skeletal wolf mount and looked at him suggestively. “We have… ah… heard reports that the undead in this area have grown in strength and are threatening some of the towns.”

  Shit. I hope that works, Frank thought to himself – mentally and physically crossing his fingers.

  The townsfolk on the walls began murmuring to themselves, their expression worried. “This is indeed a problem,” Corvin replied evenly, eyeing their group more appraisingly, as though counting the number of soldiers. “Although, you don’t seem to have brought very many troops.”

  “I assure you, the Kin are exceptionally well trained,” Frank replied, patting himself on the back for his quick response. “We can also call for reinforcements if necessary. This is just a preliminary expedition to determine the extent of the threat.”

  Corvin continued to stare at the group and then suddenly came to some sort of decision. “So be it,” he said gruffly, gesturing at the townspeople. “Let
them in.”

  “Good job,” Vera murmured to Frank as the gates slowly swung open.

  Frank felt a small glow of pride. He had done pretty well there!

  “If we can get inside before we strike, this will be much easier,” the gruff undead woman added. “If we wait until they’re asleep, we shouldn’t face much opposition at all.”

  His good humor immediately evaporated at that comment. Now he might have to kill a bunch of unarmed townspeople. Great. Maybe there was some way to avoid a conflict before it came to that. He could still hope.

  The column of undead entered the town, the Kin staying on edge and their hands remaining near their weapons. It seemed that Vera had instructed them to anticipate betrayal. The severe woman always seemed to be thinking one step ahead. He also noted the way her eyes skimmed the open courtyard directly inside the gate, tracking the movements of the guards on the walls and taking a rough headcount of the village’s population.

  Her caution proved unnecessary, however. The townspeople eyed the undead curiously, but they seem more relieved than scared. A large crowd had gathered as the remaining villagers caught wind that a group of Twilight Throne soldiers had arrived. Frank surveyed the crowd and the militia on the walls, noting that they weren’t much better off than the people of Peccavi. They looked gaunt and weary, and several townsfolk seemed to be sporting freshly bandaged injuries.

  Perhaps there had been more truth to Frank’s bullshit than he had anticipated.

  Corvin stepped forward to greet Frank as he dismounted, offering a wrinkled hand. “I apologize for our caution. These are hard times.”

  “I can see that,” Frank replied, accepting his grip. “What exactly is the problem?”

  The older man grimaced. “Before the change, we were a small hunting village, dependent on the nearby herds. We never did well, but we survived.”

  Frank sighed. “I suspect the transformation changed that? The way it has converted the locale wildlife into undead beasts has placed a burden on many villages.”

 

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