Survivors

by Dave Willmarth

  The young sailor on the crow’s nest who had been watching for obstacles in the river screamed and fell to the deck with three arrows in his back. He still held the bow he’d been using to return fire. Mion was fluttering around, healing crew members as quickly as she could.

  Red was hurling throwing knives at any targets she found within range, while Stonehand held crossbows in each hand, firing and reloading almost faster than Mace could follow. The damned dwarf was using his teeth to grab the wire bowstrings and pull them back to reload. Mace shuddered as he turned back to the fight.

  The remaining sails still held the wind and the boat was beginning to progress upstream again, if slowly. Their pace was slowed by the downed sail and rigging dipping into the water and being dragged downstream by the current. The mages on either bank of the river began targeting the sails, trying to light them on fire and stop the boat.

  Mace targeted them. There were three that he could see. He incinerated the one on the port side with a fireball to the face. Then he switched and shot an ice bolt through the chest of another on the starboard side. The third mage was smart enough to hide behind a tree as he cast another fireball. But Mace wasn’t to be outdone. He stood with his hands together and shouted “Ventus”. He flung a concentrated whip-blade of wind at the tree. When it struck the tree it cut deeply, but didn’t penetrate. Mace didn’t need it to. The edges of the whip wrapped around the tree and cut the mage nearly in half.

  The ballistae were loaded now and the angry crew were picking off targets on the banks. Mace witnessed one bolt pass through an archer, and then a second one behind him before it disappeared into the trees. The spray of blood soaked some of their comrades and distracted them briefly. Mace took the opportunity to blast a fireball into their midst and knock down several more.

  Lila, not having a ranged weapon, was darting from one wounded sailor to the next, pouring health potions down their gullets or into wounds. Layne had taken cover in a nook created by crates and was still playing her buffing tune. Shari was leaving the heals to Lila and Mion as she fired stun arrows and wind arrows and fire arrows at any target she could find. It seemed as if, between her efforts and Stonehand’s, very few of the enemy remained on the port side.

  Mace decided to make sure. The bank was maybe fifty yards away, so he cast Levitate on himself, then with a cry of “Ventus!” he used his wind ability to push himself over the rail and toward the back. Arrows flew past him, several too close for comfort. So he activated his Liquid Armor ability and began casting fireballs at any head that popped up. He shouted for Shari and the others to focus on the other side.

  Ten seconds later, he was over the bank and cancelled his levitation. He dropped to the ground and sprinted toward the nearest enemy. For the next two minutes he murdered any live being he saw. Among the trees, he could activate his natural stealth abilities and fade into the shadows.

  He claimed soul after soul, stabbing his enchanted dagger into wounded on the ground and active combatants alike. With each kill, he felt more power, more rage. The dagger was singing to him, the sound giving his actions a sort of balletic grace.

  When he couldn’t find another target, he looked around, breathing hard. The dead littered the forest floor and open bank around him. More than he wanted to count. He’d leveled up during the fight, and hadn’t even noticed.

  Looking toward the ship, he saw another sailor go down with an arrow in his shoulder. Mace had had enough. He gulped down a mana potion, his bar being low from the many fireballs and other spells. He sprinted toward the river bank and leapt out over the water as he cast Levitate on himself. Using wind magic to speed up his forward motion, he shot across the river just ahead of the Sea Sprite’s bow and released the magic as he approached the opposite bank. To any observer, it would have looked like an incredible leap.

  He could see that enemies on this side of the river were becoming scarce as well. Shari and the others were peppering the entire bank with missiles, so he decided to get creative.

  “Magmus!” he called out the trigger word as he spread his hands out wide. A line of magma thirty yards wide boiled up in front of him, lighting the grass and shrubs on fire.

  “Ventus!” he slammed his hands together, then pushed them forward and wide again. A strong gust of wind passed by him, fanning the flames from the magma and sending a swath of fire forward ahead of him. Trees, shrubs, the grass itself, and any unfortunate enemies within its path burst into flames. Mace charged in behind the flames and began to kill as his friends used the distraction to take down anyone who broke cover.

  A horn sounded deeper in the trees and instantly the remaining dozen or attackers began to retreat. Half of them didn’t make it twenty steps before arrows and ballistae bolts mowed them down. Mace even noticed a throwing axe come sloping down in an arc to take an archer in the back. He dashed forward, following the retreating enemy. They were converging on a small clearing where a long line of horses was tethered.

  In the middle of the clearing was the man with the horn. He began to shout, “Mount up! Get your asses back to Graf! We’ve lost too many. The boss is gonna be pissed!”

  Mace strolled out from under the tree and said “Not nearly as pissed as I am. The first one of you that tries to mount a horse dies slowly.”

  One of the archers ignored him and put a foot in his stirrup, lifting himself into the saddle. The moment he settled, a dagger appeared in his neck. It was a thin throwing dagger with a needle-sharp point. It didn’t sever an artery, but instead entered his esophagus. The man wheezed and choked, coughing up blood as he gripped his neck and tried feebly to remove the dagger.

  The others all turned and drew arrows, firing at Mace. Only he was no longer there. He’d used the distraction to activate stealth, and was currently crouched between two of the horses. He dropped and rolled under one horse before rising to a knee and stabbing his enchanted dagger into the thigh of another enemy. The artery was severed, but it didn’t matter because his soul was gone long before the loss of blood would have killed him.

  Mace dropped into stealth again, but this time he held up his spell ring and used one of the two remaining spells.

  “Rock Spider.”

  A massive spider appeared in the clearing, right next to the man with the horn. Mace yelled, “Kill!” as he dove over the back of another horse to stab a distracted archer in the face. Once again, the soul dagger sang with joy as it drained its victim.

  The spider, an ambush predator normally found in dark tunnels, leapt atop the leader even as the man drew his sword. The creature’s bulk knocked him to the ground, and it seized his head between its poisoned mandibles. The man struggled, but Mace knew he was as good as dead. So did the spider. Venom delivered, it turned from its victim when an arrow struck its head from the side. The spider leapt again, focused on the archer this time. The slaver was too far away to reach with a single leap, so the spider scuttled forward. The archer attempted to flee, and they both disappeared into the trees. Mace liked the spider’s odds.

  Only two slavers remained. They were shouting to each other as they frantically tried to mount horses that had been spooked by the spider. Mace leapt up and put his feet atop the rump of the nearest horse. Then he dashed nimbly from horse to horse before flipping off a saddle and landing with both feet in the back of an archer. He went down and stayed there, Mace’s dagger in his back. The remaining archer dropped his weapon and put his hands up.

  “Please! Please! I have children. Don’t kill me. You – you can have all these horses. And gold! Here, I have gold!” He reached for his belt and pulled a hefty coin bag from it, tossing the bag at Mace’s feet.

  The drow looked at the last survivor. “Where is the Black Flame headquarters?”

  The man opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He began to sweat. He opened his mouth again, but still nothing. Mace looked at him with malice in his eyes. “Oathbound?”

  The man nodded, then shrugged his shoulders in a ‘what can
I do’ gesture. Mace stepped forward and put his face inches from the man’s nose. He laid his left hand on the man’s shoulder and gripped it tight.

  “You are of no use to me.” As he spoke, he slowly pushed his soul dagger into the man’s chest just below his sternum. The archer screamed as his soul was ripped from him.

  A few moments later, the spider returned, chewing on the skull of the archer it had pursued. Mace let it have its meal. He said “You are free. But do not attack any humanoids.” The spider bobbed its head once before going back to its meal.

  Mace moved to loot the leader in the middle of the clearing. As he bent toward the man, he couldn’t loot him. A quick glance told him the man was somehow still alive. “Your stamina must be off the charts. Or do you have some kind of poison resistance? Not a hundred percent, because I can see you’re paralyzed. Interesting.”

  He crouched next to the man and watched as his health bar hovered just above zero. Holding his dagger where the man could see it, he said, “You’ve seen this blade in action. It can pull your soul from your body and condemn it to an eternity of being devoured for your energy. Now. Can you blink? Once for yes or… well if you don’t blink I guess that would be a no.” He grinned at the man as he blinked once. “Good!” Now, are you oathbound?”

  Another single blink. Mace sighed. “Well, let’s see if your oath will actually kill you, shall we? I mean, I think if a bird shit on you right now you’d expire. So, let’s test this whole oathbinding thing.”

  He thought for a moment. “Okay, we’ll start with one I already know the answer to. Are you Black Flame?”

  One blink.

  “Are you some kind of officer?”

  One blink.

  “A lieutenant?”

  Two blinks.

  “Higher?”

  One blink.

  “Oh boy! A captain? I’m afraid I don’t know your rank system.”

  One blink.

  “Well then, captain. So far, so good. Now let’s make it interesting. Were you sent specifically to kill me?”

  Two blinks.

  “Was this a trap for just any merchant ship?”

  One blink.

  “Have you done this before?”

  One blink.

  “My, my, how cooperative you are. Did a messenger come from Port Bjurstrom to warn you about me?”

  Two blinks.

  “But you’ve been told I was coming?”

  Two blinks again.

  Mace considered that information for a while. It might be that this man had been out here for a while and hadn’t heard the news. He had really only been killing Black Flame soldiers for about a week now.

  “Have you been away from Graf for a while?”

  One blink.

  “Out of touch?”

  A hesitation, then one blink.

  “Ah, you’ve decided to lie to me. Not very convincing for a murdering, thieving slaver. So, you’ve been in contact, but they didn’t tell you about me. Interesting.”

  The man groaned, the poison beginning to lose its hold on him. He coughed once. Mace asked, “How many men did you bring with you?” The man tried to speak, but no sound emerged. He wasn’t sure if it was the poison or the oath, so he said, “More than fifty?”

  One blink.

  “More than a hundred?”

  Two blinks.

  “Sixty?” the man seemed to think about it. “Somewhere around sixty then. That means my friends and I have now killed more than three hundred of your comrades. How many more of you can there be?” He didn’t really expect the man to answer, and the man just stared at him, hatred in his eyes.

  I don’t suppose you’d be willing to draw me a map to the Black Flame headquarters in Graf if I promised to let you live?” Two blinks. “That’s what I thought.” Not seeing any way to get more useful information from the slaver, Mace stood up. He held the soul dagger by its handle, point down. Letting it go, he watched it fall straight down and embed itself in the man’s gut. Despite the poison paralysis, the man managed to scream briefly before his last sliver of health disappeared.

  When Mace took hold of the dagger to remove it, it gave him a nasty shock.

  “What the hell was that?” He gripped the knife’s handle. “Some kind of rebuke? A feedback of the soul energy because I wasn’t touching the blade?”

  Mace heard a twig crack in the forest behind him and spun around. Lila and Red came strolling out of the trees. Lila immediately began looting the bodies as Red said, “Looks like they’re all dead. Shari and Layne are helping with heals. The surviving crew are trying to repair the boat. Looks like we’re staying here for the night.” She moved to the horses and began to scratch one on the nose.

  “How bad is it?” Mace was afraid to ask. He’d seen a lot of sailors go down.

  Red looked him in the eye. “Eight crewmen dead. Another ten injured, but Shari can heal them. Two of the dead will… what is the word Shari used? Respawn?”

  Mace cursed to himself. He should have asked for Elysia to evolve the whole crew. Now six of them were lost forever. He’d correct that mistake right now. “Elysia, please. I made a mistake. I ask that you allow the entire crew of the Sea Sprite to evolve.”

  Your request has been reviewed and approved.

  -Elysia

  With that resolved, he looked to the horses. “We could use horses at Lakeside and the stronghold. I wish they would all fit in the ship.”

  Red snorted at the idea. “You could maybe fit two of them in the hold, if you could find a way to lower them in. Better to send a couple of the sailors back to the port with them. It would take a couple of days, but you are right, horses are valuable.”

  They left the horses tied to their line and walked back to the ship. Mace saw that the captain had allowed the Sea Sprite to drift ashore and the crew was busily making repairs.

  A rowboat had been lowered, and Lila and Red hopped in. Lila pointed toward the opposite shore, and Red began to row. Mace shook his head as he realized they were headed over to loot the corpses on that side.

  As he jogged up the plank to the ship’s deck, he saw the bodies of the dead crew. The rest of the crew all paused to thank him, having apparently evolved before he returned. He could see in some of their faces the same thing he’d cursed himself for: He was late.

  Since the current of the river was too strong for a sea burial, the crew chopped up the broken mast and built a funeral pyre. The dead were laid to rest atop the wood pile and a fire was lit. The captain spoke some words over his men, and they all watched in silence as the fire burned down to coals.

  Mace helped set up a camp on the shore in sight of the boat. Shari hunted down a deer and, surprisingly, Stonehand volunteered to cook it. He gutted and skinned the animal, then carved up some branches to make a spit. In no time at all the smell of roasted meat and fat dripping into the fire had everyone drifting toward the camp.

  They ate in silence, thinking about their lost comrades. Eventually they began to tell stories and jokes about their antics. Each of them shared a memory before they drifted off into a more light-hearted silence. Soon they began to retire to their bedrolls.

  Mace and Shari were considering logging out when a voice rang out. “Ho! In the camp!”

  Everyone was instantly alert, weapons in hand. Two forms took shape in the tree line on the other side of the fire from Mace. His night vision was inhibited by the flames, but soon enough, the two figures stepped into the light of the fire. Both had their hands up and were walking slowly.

  “Stop there,” Jorin commanded. “Who are you?”

  Ian appeared between the fire and the two intruders. He said, “I can answer that, yes.” Taking a knee, he bowed his head. “Mistress.”

  Mace inspected the two. Now that they were within the light, he could see that they were both drow. The one in the lead was female. Slightly behind and to her left was a male. He wore a thin, silvery collar around his neck, attached to a matching thin in chain. The other end of
which the female held in her hand. Mace realized the metal was mithril.

  She bowed her head slightly to Mace. “I am T’enaj. This is N’osaj, my second in command and my husband. And you are Mace. I have heard much about you in the last few days.” She looked him up and down. “Though I had not heard you were a Darkblade. How interesting.” She grinned at him.

  Mace nodded. Then he looked at Ian, who still had his head bowed. “Ian. This is your mistress?”

  In answer, a quest completion notification for the escort quest popped up on his UI. Ian nodded. “Indeed she is, yes. This is Mistress T’enaj, Master thief and head of the Thieves’ Guild of Graf, yes.”

  The three drow stood there, still separated by the campfire, and sized each other up.

  Chapter 16

  Hmmm…

  Griff and his dwarves climbed the ladder to the main level of the stronghold, Ag’thar following behind. They followed the corridor until it reached a junction. To the right they could see daylight. To the left they could hear voices and activity. Griff chose to go left.

  The tunnel quickly led to a large cavern with several cages in it. There was a wagon parked nearby, and several minotaurs were loading iron rails into it. Griff cleared his throat.

  “Hello! Any chance one of you is Brahm?”

  The largest of the minotaurs set down his load and strode toward them. He began to reach for a massive two-handed axe strapped across his back, but Griff raised his hands. “No need for that! We’re friends. Or we hope to be. Mace and Shari sent us!”

  Brahm paused, then resumed walking toward the group. But he lowered his hand.

  “How did you get past the guards at the entrance? They would have alerted us to your coming.”

  “We didn’t come through the entrance. We came through one of the…” Griff paused and looked to the other minotaurs in the room, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “One of the portals in the dungeon. The one with the waterfall.”