by M B Reid
It took another five minutes to clear the remainder of the barrels away. As we dragged the last one aside one of the other guards noticed a small mechanism that allowed the whole stack to rotate on a set of wheels. My stomach lurched downwards at what I saw. The tunnel was perfectly, impossibly, round. Exactly like the tunnel behind the seal in the dungeon. Which meant that they had to be connected.
Now, however, was not the time to share this knowledge. Not until I could talk to Logan again. The guardsmen seemed like better people than I had first thought. Even so, there was no way they would trust that an undead necromancer living in a dungeon near town wasn’t involved in the attacks. Worse, if they learnt about Logan they would almost certainly tie him to me.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
“Okay. You all know what we found. Like it or not, our job is to get down there and clear out those rats.” We were all gathered outside the barracks, except for the handful of guards that Rudy had left in the church. Rudy himself was pacing in front of us, like a general in an old war movie. Trying to give us a motivational speech, or at least strike fear into us with all the horrible things he’d do if we broke ranks and ran.
Not that I had anywhere to run to.
“We don’t know what we’ll be facing, so we need every available hand. A skeleton crew will remain to watch the walls; we have reason to believe the kobolds and ratkin are working together to try and take this city.” Rudy paused, as if to let his message sink in. I looked around the gathered faces and saw a sea of grim looks. The younger men looked fearful, the oldest had a determined look in their eyes. Perhaps they’d faced these threats before. Maybe the townsfolk were the ones who’d erected the seals.
I wanted to ask about that, but Rudy continued.
“Regroup here in two hours. Make sure your gear is ready. Dismissed.” He barked the last word, and the guards started to disperse immediately. No doubt most of them had families to say goodbye to. No one had been under any illusions - men were going to die today, possibly a lot of them. Five men had died during the last ratkin assault, that was a sobering number. Hell, I could easily have been one of them.
Maybe I should try to escape, retreat back to the dungeon with Logan. Apologise to him and hope he’d listen to me. We could just leave, strike out downriver toward the next town.
“Rookie?” Rudy addressed me, and I realised I was the only person still standing. He had a softer look in his eyes when he looked at me now. I was no longer the prisoner pressed into service under him, I had fought beside him. I might not be a guard in his eyes but at least I wasn’t a traitor.
“I’ve seen another of these tunnels. It was blocked off by some sort of magical seal when I first found it, but it’s opened since.” Right now honesty seemed like the best policy. With any luck Rudy might know what to do. The look of surprise on his face dashed that thought though. He hadn’t known about the seal in the dungeon, which meant he probably didn’t know anything about any other seals.
“Where was this?”
“The place my friend is staying. That’s why I had to return there after the ratkin attacked, to make sure he was still okay.”
He nodded slowly, as if considering his response.
“There’s something you’re not telling me about this friend of yours. At least tell me, is this tunnel close to the city walls?”
“Maybe half an hours walk” I couldn’t tell whether he was accepting my silence about Logan, or if he was going to ask roundabout questions until he tricked me into revealing something.
“We don’t have enough men to attack from two directions. Is your friend a fighter?”
“He is, but he’s there alone. We’ve barricaded the tunnel as best we can, if anything tries to go that way he’ll stop them. He won’t attack through the tunnel by himself though” Logan would certainly defend himself if the ratkin tried to flee in that direction, but I wasn’t sure I would be able to convince him to launch an assault. Not after the wound he’d already suffered. His mental health seemed to be teetering on the edge. Asking him to put himself at risk for a bunch of virtual characters might be enough to push him over.
“If he can hold that side, we’re at least cutting off one of their escape routes. I can’t send men to help him though, not without you sharing whatever secret you’re keeping.” He gave me an expectant look, as if that simple question should have been enough for me to spill the beans.
“Sorry. It would be a betrayal of his trust.” I made a point of not looking at my feet and avoiding his eyes. I settled on staring at his scabbard.
Rudy considered that for a long moment before nodding.
“Rest up rookie. You’ve got less than two hours.” With that dismissal, Rudy turned and made his way into the barracks. I watched him go, not entirely sure what to do. I didn’t have any family, at least not in this world, nor did I really have any friends in the city. Hell, I’d only really talked to the priestess and Waylan. I leaned against a brick wall and thought about my options.
I was going to join this fight. My pride wouldn’t let me turn and run, and if the guardsmen failed in their assault the town would almost certainly fall. I couldn’t let that happen. Not just to save the lives of everyone here - in my head I knew they were all just ones and zeroes on a server somewhere. I couldn’t let this town fall because if it did, I had nowhere to go. The city walls meant safety for me, and if I could convince Logan to stop being so stubborn it could also mean safety for him.
We weren’t the heroes of this game. Saving the world was a burden for someone else to bear, but maybe we could be the heroes of this town. We could live in comfort here, at least until the stones were reunited and we could return to the real world.
I stepped away from the wall, and started to walk through the streets. Townsfolk were scurrying from building to building, as if scared to spend too long in the open. I could hardly blame them. It humanised every single one of them. They might just be ones and zeroes on a server, but these people had personalities. They had fears. Given how quickly some of the guards had made for their homes they felt other emotions too. Everything was simulated, but did that make it any less real?
My feet carried me through the town without conscious thought. I didn’t know where I was going, and frankly I didn’t much care. I wore the slightly improved armour of the guardsmen, my shield was the best in town, and my scimitar had the best bonuses I’d seen. There was nothing else I could do to prepare. I had no need to visit an apothecary to buy health potions - they had the exact opposite effect on me. On that note I paused.
“Jira?” I asked nothing in particular.
“Yes?” The little sprite appeared in the air in front of me, glowing a soothing blue this time.
“Is there a way for me to restore my health, like in combat?”
“As an undead you take damage from all healing abilities and consumables. Instead, you will restore health when poisoned.” The sprites voice tinkled as she spoke, and my heart leapt. Maybe there was something I could spend my meagre earnings on. An apothecary must be capable of making poisons. I had no idea where to find that, but I knew someone who could help me.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The large church doors yawned at me. I realised this was my third time approaching the church for the day, and the first time I was doing it with my weapon sheathed. This day felt impossibly long, and still the sky looked like it wouldn’t lighten for several more hours. I felt wary, not in a game sense - my stats were in good condition - but I was mentally exhausted. There was only so much non-stop action I could endure.
The guards in the main room nodded to me as I entered, but maintained their watchful silence. They were focused upon the door behind the altar, and I knew other guards were watching the tunnel down below. If anything were to come creeping up that tunnel the men downstairs would shout a warning and one of the guards up here would summon the others. Provided there weren’t other tunnels in the basements of other buildings in town we wouldn’t be caught b
y surprise again.
I turned right, away from the guards, and made my way to the small rooms the priestesses kept. I’d not seen either of them all day, but prayed that one of them would be in the church at this late hour. Preferably the one that had been so helpful to me earlier. The first three doors I knocked on elicited no response, and were empty when I quietly edged the door open to check. I had a little more than an hour to prepare for an assault that would likely cost me my life. There was no time for proper etiquette.
When I rapped my gloved knuckles against the fourth door there was a scraping sound, like wood dragging along the floor.
“Come in” a familiar voice called.
I turned the handle and pushed the door inward. Without realising it, I had returned to the room I’d visited when I first came to the church. The priestess sat within, her features hidden beneath her blood red robes.
“Ah, come in child. Lock the door.” She said, standing to slide the second chair from under the desk so I would have somewhere to sit. I did as she requested and then took the offered seat. She removed her hood, and I followed suit.
“Are you here to pray?” She asked, and I could have sworn I’d seen a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
“Not exactly. I was hoping you might have access to poisons, or perhaps know of an apothecary in town?”
“Ah yes. Poison is something I can help you with. Perhaps nothing that is, shall we say, delectable. But effective nonetheless.” She stood and made her way to the bookcase. It was set into the wall behind me, and I only watched her until she stepped past me out of my vision. The sound of grating wood echoed through the room once more, forcing me to look back over my shoulder. The bookcase had folded in on itself, revealing a hidden room behind the wall.
“Woah” I managed.
The priestess laughed, and made a come-hither motion with one finger. I followed her through the cramped doorway into a spacious room, at least twice the size of the previous chamber. The far wall was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, covered in old tomes that were tattered and falling apart. An entire section appeared to be bound in a pale leather that looked worryingly like human skin. A workbench dominated one of the side walls. It was covered in test tubes and ingredients - each separated into carefully stacked specimen jars. A bed was against the remaining wall, along with a full length dresser and a small bedside table.
“Shouldn’t the secret room be the small one?” I asked absently, eliciting another laugh from the priestess.
“The front of the church is for the public, and the priests when we change stations. The hidden room, and there is one in every church, is for the priestesses. Only our kind know of these places, and only our kind can know of them.” She punctuated her last words with a piercing stare. I nodded.
“There are secrets that Animasto keeps from the men in his employ. Amongst them are the rituals of our kind, and the many ways in which we differ from the living.” She made her way to the workbench, and began rifling through the drawers.
“Ah, yes. The apothecary can make poisons, but none so powerful as this.” She drew three vials of a toxic green colour from the drawer and offered them to me.
“These, if they were to enter the bloodstream of the living, would kill them in seconds. Consumed by you, they should restore you to health in an instant.”
I took the vials from her, and slipped them into my pockets. That was one distinct benefit of wearing the guards uniform, it was an exceedingly practical garb, covered in pockets. The priestess seemed to notice my new outfit for the first time.
“You’ll be going with them then?” She asked
“Yes. We’ll find wherever they’re attacking from, and finish them forever.” I said, sounding a lot more zealous than I felt. We could very well be marching to our deaths.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” She asked, gesturing around the room. I looked at what was around, but saw no weapons or armour in the room. What else could she offer?
“Can you teach me any skills?”
“I’m afraid not. The great library in town might have skill books you could buy, but we have nothing of that sort here. Not ones that would interest you.” She raised one hand, gently guiding me back toward the door to the open part of the church. I wasn’t sure that it was an entirely genuine motion. A little voice in the back in my head was telling me there were skills to learn here, that she wanted to hide them from me. I couldn’t think of any reason she wouldn’t help though. She’d given me the poisons free of charge, and had been nothing but helpful since I’d met her.
“Would you pray for me?” I asked as I stepped back into the cramped room. I was not a religious man by any means, but perhaps the prayers of an actual priestess might grant some sort of buff that could help me in the coming battle. The priestess hid the doorway with her body as she twiddled with something, and the bookcase slid back into place. When she turned to face me she wore a smile.
“Of course I will pray for you” She announced, then held her hands together and began whispering in some unknowable language. It sounded like it might have its roots in Latin, but I couldn’t make out any of the words. They seemed to blend together, almost as if the sound of one word changed as she said the next. For one terrifying moment I thought she was casting some sort of spell on me. As if she were about to reveal herself to be the evil creature that had opened the seal and brought the ratkin to town.
Her words reached a crescendo and I felt myself flinch. She laid a hand upon me, and a warming sensation spread through my body.
“Go in the grace of Animasto” she intoned, dismissing me.
“Thank you” I managed, before making for the door. There was a resounding clunk as I unlocked it.
“I hope to see you return.” She said softly as I stepped outside.
As I made my way back to the main room of the church I checked the prompt that had appeared when she touched me.
Animasto’s Blessing
For the next three hours your health is increased by 20%
My jaw dropped. A twenty percent increase in health, just because the priest had blessed me? Perhaps this buff was the result of a spell, rather than a religious perk. With my face spread in a great grin I made for the door to the church. I had a short time left, and one more person to visit.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The ceaseless clanging of metal on metal was coming from the smithy as I approached. A steady stream of smoke poured from the chimney, polluting the night. Obviously there was no such thing as a noise complaints department in Liorel. Either that or people were given a lot of leeway when forging weapons for a town that had been attacked twice in twenty four hours.
I stepped through the doorway into the shop half of the building. The walls were bare of any armaments or armour. The guards must have requisitioned everything he had in order to prepare the men for the upcoming battle. Hopefully that wouldn’t have soured Waylan’s mood, especially when I was here to ask for yet another favour. I’m not sure how the guards had reacted to him helping me over the wall, and I hadn’t seen him since. I could only hope that the old man still considered me a friend.
I pushed aside the blanket that hung between the workshop and the store. The wave of heat from within battered me immediately. Waylan had his back to me, sweat pouring down his body. His enormous arms were knotted in muscle as he hammered away at something lain across the anvil. The room was practical, with sparse decorations. It was just large enough to allow two people to move about while the blacksmith swung his hammer. I edged around the room until I was sure I was standing in the old mans peripheral vision. I figured he’d stop when he was ready.
A few long minutes passed while I watched him pounding a block of steel into a roughly bladed shape. Then he plunged the metal into a barrel of oil and wiped the sweat from his brow. He gave me a long hard look before breaking out in a smile.
“Azoth, my boy, I heard you’d changed your colours” He motioned to the guards uniform I wore
and gave a deep bellied laugh.
“What can I do ye for?” He asked, gesturing back towards the front room. Whatever he was working on could clearly be put on hold for a moment. I followed him through to where the furnace wasn’t quite so scorching.
“I’m going with the guards, exploring the tunnel those monsters came out of. I was hoping you could sharpen my sword for me.” I said, feeling strangely nervous. I had no coin with which to pay for his services, so I was banking on the good will I’d built - and hopefully not lost - earlier.
“Aye” He said, and gestured for my sword. I unsheathed the scimitar and handed it over.
“A tunnel ye say? Where’s that?” He asked as he made his way to the table with the whetstone.
“Beneath the church. The same sort of tunnel appeared in another underground place, not far from town. That’s where my friend was.” I began, though I wasn’t entirely sure if he was listening as he focused on running the whetstone along the length of my blade.
“I want to thank you as well, for what you did with the guards. I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble.” I tried to make a point of not looking at the bare walls of the shop.
“Nay, not a problem at all. I can look after meself” He grinned as he worked.
“Still, it was good of you what you did. I owe you a favour”
“Aye, ye do. But them guards need you now. Come back alive kid” He laughed and returned my scimitar. If only he knew how far from alive I already was. A prompt appeared as I took the weapon from him.
Damage increased by 50% for two hours.
“Thank you” I exclaimed, smiling.