A few seconds later, the battle was on. The first players to smack into the Dagger Hearts were the cavalry units, each holding tall spears out in front of them with the Golden Alliance flag drifting just below the point. Half the Dagger Hearts took a spear to the gut while others were able to parry them to the side. The Golden Alliance members broke through the defensive lines with ease and rushed past us lowlings. The blood now running down the grassy hill was a fair mixture of Dagger Hearts and Golden Alliance.
The attack of the Golden Alliance must have come as a surprise, for Slith was looking more and more distraught. A spear targeted her and I watched in slow motion as it headed towards her face. What looked to be her second in command, a Level 100 Monk Half-Orc by the name of Grenade, jumped into the air and deflected the spear with a spinning crane kick. He landed on one foot and bowed to his master.
“Portal out!” commanded Slith at the top of her lungs. Then, she placed her hands over her mouth and whispered words into them. I gasped as I watched her body become transparent. Grenade the Monk deflected arrows, javelins, and spears with his bare hands to keep them from hitting and disrupting his master’s getaway. Just before Slith had completely vanished, she mouthed one last spell that grabbed and pulled a stray Ashvellian newb towards her. She clapped the poor soul’s head between her hands and smashed the cranium flat.
Then she was gone.
The other Dagger Hearts followed suit, trying their best to portal out of the battle. I would say only a quarter of them were lucky enough to cast the cowardly spell before getting disrupted by a Golden Alliance member. Within seconds, the other Ashvellian newbs and I were surrounded by a graveyard of floating loot bags.
There were prisoners, of course.
“Bind the survivors and line them up!” demanded Vane, stepping off his golden-armored horse. I noticed that Vane had not one speck of blood on him. I figured he had been watching and playing the battle from afar.
The Dagger Hearts were rounded up like cattle, bound by ankles and wrists, and sat in a perfect line. There were nine of them, all of them below the level of 50.
Vane walked down the line with his hands behind his back. “Which of you holds the higher status in your guild?” he asked them. Each of the Dagger Hearts spit at his feet as he walked past them. “None of you wish to speak?” All the players spit in unison.
A horse trotted up beside Vane with Minx riding in the saddle. She jumped off of it, slapped its behind, and the horse began to fade slowly until it had completely disappeared. She made it a point to ignore me.
“I suggest you tell this human what he wants,” she said, her hands clasped behind her back, too.
None of the players spat but neither did they speak up.
“Konker!” Vane called out. He turned to the rest of his guildies who had lined up behind him. “Where is Konker? Eating, I’m sure.”
A hand burst into the air in the middle of the party of guild members. “Here I am, sir!” A shorter than normal Half-Elf pushed his way out of the crowd. He wore a Golden Alliance tabard but his name title was the same color as the Dagger Hearts who now knelt before Vane.
“Excellent,” Vane said, turning back to his prisoners with a sick smile spreading across his face. “Come to me, Konker.”
Konker Level 87 Underground Dealer (Artisan)
The boyish Half-Elf skipped to Vane’s side, a half-eaten chicken leg in his left hand. He took a big bite while humming some tune.
“I don’t see how you can eat so much but stay so small,” Minx said with a chuckle.
Konker didn’t say anything. He just winked at her and took another bite. He eyed the prisoners with the same hungry look that he did his chicken leg.
The smiles on the prisoners of the battle faded, replaced by worrisome faces. They, too, noticed that little Konker’s title meant he wasn’t like the other Golden Alliance members. He was a player killer just like them.
“A-ha!” Minx exclaimed, seeing the demeanor of the prisoners change. “Now you see why I said it would be in your best interest to talk.”
Silence.
“Looks like I have my work cut out for me,” Konker said with a mouth full of chicken. “Shall I start, leader Vane?”
Vane nodded.
Konker tossed his chicken bone and equipped an average-looking hammer. He twirled it in his hand whilst walking towards the closest prisoner. Vane made a high-pitched whistle and two guildies responded by marching up beside Konker. Konker pointed down at the forehead of a Dwarf with a large scar slashed over one clouded eye. “Him first.”
The two guildies grabbed themselves each an arm and shoved the Dwarf face first.
“Wait! I’ll talk!” screamed the Dagger Gut Dwarf, “I’ll tal-”
Before the player could finish his cry of surrender, Konker raised his hammer and smashed the Dwarf’s head flat. No one was safe from the blood splatter.
The prisoners, and some Golden Alliance guildies, gasped in horror. I, too, had to shut my gaping mouth. Never before had I seen such a violent death in the world of Drathos.
Konker was already skipping to his next victim. He had unequipped his hammer and replaced it with a large, plain wooden mallet, a weapon perfect for head smashing. The prisoners erupted in pleas of surrender, guilt, and cries for help. I thought surely Vane would stop this execution but he gave Konker no command to stop.
The small Half-Elf pointed down at yet another Dwarf who was then shoved to the ground by the two guildies, each now covered in vanishing blood. Even from this distance, I could see the sparkles of the soon to be dead Dwarf’s tears.
SMASH
After the fourth head bashing, I couldn’t take it anymore. This was barbaric!
I strode over to Vane but he was immediately surrounded by his guildies, each pointing a weapon in my face as if to say not one more step.
“Stop this!” I yelled over them. “Don’t lower yourself to their levels! This is inhumane!”
I could see Vane watching me from the corners of his eyes. Minx opened her eyes wide trying to subtly get me to back off but I refused.
“They’ve been screaming this entire time that they’re ready to talk! So let them talk!”
“Oh, there you are,” Vane said finally, turning to face me. “I’d forgotten all about you. Tharis, was it? Yes, I see it above your head. Guards? Shackle him, please.”
“What?” Minx and I asked in unison. The guards looked at each other, their eyebrows raised. Even they knew that I was innocent.
Vane’s face went solemn. “Did I stutter? Arrest this so called Lionheart.”
There was no hesitation. I was slammed face first into the mud in the same fashion as the prisoners. My ankles and wrists were tied and a tall pole was slid between the bindings so that I could be easily carried.
“Take him back to camp and cage him with the other undesirable.”
I didn’t say anything. I knew there wasn’t anything that I could say that would change this tyrant’s mind. I dared not look at Minx, afraid that I may get her into more trouble. I could already see Vane eyeing her with a questioning face.
As I was being carried off like a hog ready to be put over a spit, a notice in the form of a red exclamation mark popped up into the very top right of my vision. I watched everyone around me to see if there was any clue that they, too, had received the notice. I saw no signs of people checking the prompt or having received one for that matter.
I quickly concentrated on it and opened the red exclamation point.
You have received a quest from Muzuhlan! The Lionheart’s Journey
Quest Details: Enter Hondren's Cavern and rid it of its parasitic Goblins and, of course, the giant Orc by the name of Hondren.
Reward: Experience, the Lionheart’s Mount.
I accepted the quest. But after seeing what Vane did to his prisoners, I was unsure if I would make it until morning.
I was being marched into the forest’s entrance when I heard another SMASH followed by ple
as of mercy.
20
“Tharis? Is that you?”
Bataar was sitting at the very far end of the same jail cell we had been in the night before I was power leveled. The guards swung the door open and threw me inside. I landed beside him, his hands and feet bound together.
The guards, unsure of what to do next, shrugged their shoulders and trudged back into the direction of Vane and his army. If I had been Vane, I would have picked players who could have thought for themselves. Never would I leave two players alone at base camp.
Bataar and I both waited until they were out of earshot.
“This is our only chance,” I whispered, worming myself to the nearest iron bar and rubbing my wrist bindings up and down furiously against it. I watched the durability of the rope but saw it wasn’t budging from 100%.
“Tharis, is that really you?” Bataar asked again, tilting his head. “You’re the Lionheart I heard about in chat? Have to say that I guessed as much.”
“Yes, yes, it’s me. Now, help me try to get out of this rope.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Bataar said, scooching up next to me. “Let me see your wrists.”
I put my arms out towards him and flinched when he bit at them. The rope’s durability went to 0% instantly and fell to the floor of the cage.
I shook my head in disbelief. “If you have been able to do this the entire time, then why are you still tied up?”
“Think about it, Mr. Lionheart,” he said mockingly. “If I had bitten off my own ropes then that would have given away my little ability and they would have shackled me with iron instead. I’ve been waiting for the right moment.”
The Archean had a point.
“Listen,” I said, equipping my sword and cutting off the rope from my ankles. “You said Muzuhlan was the go to guy for all things Enlightenment, right?”
Bataar nodded, biting off his own confinement.
“Well, I was just offered a quest by him.”
Bataar stopped chewing, a piece of rope resting between his sharp teeth. “You what?”
“Yeah, I know it’s weird but a quest alert popped up. Looks like some sort of class quest.”
A wide grin spread across his face and I could see his body starting to shake with excitement. “Well, we have to go! You accepted didn’t you? Tell me you accepted that quest!”
“Of course I did!” I said, now searching the cell for any sign of weakness. I remembered not finding any last time and didn’t see any this time. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Well, I don’t know you very well. What exactly happened out there? Where did you get that not too shabby looking armor? Did you save your friend?”
I went still and didn’t say anything. I didn’t even turn to look at Bataar. My silence said it all.
“I’m sorry.”
A scaly hand touched my shoulder pauldron.
I shrugged it off and kept searching the cell. “Thanks,” I said. “But right, now we have to get out of here.”
I turned to search the other side of the cell and cried out loud when I was met with Minx’s furry muzzle sticking through the bars.
“What are you doing here?” I asked her, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Shhhh!” she hissed. She rummaged through her armor before pulling out a key and tossing it to me. “Get as far away as you can.”
I picked up the key and looked at it.
“Don’t just stand there! Use it and run! Run away as far as possible!”
“And why should we do that? I am a Light Faction player and Bataar was given Vane’s word to be freed.”
Minx was shaking her head. “You don’t get it. Vane was never going to let you two go. I knew this as well, but-”
“But what?” I interrupted. “How do we know you aren’t setting us up?”
“That’s true,” Bataar added. “How do we know you aren’t just wanting to make it look like we are trying to escape?”
Minx looked at us with a baffled expression. “You have got to be kidding me! What would I get out of tricking two newbs?”
“You tell us,” I said.
Minx shook her head in disbelief. “If you don’t want the key, then give it back.”
And so I did. I tossed her back the key from the cell and Bataar jumped from his seated position trying to nab it.
“You crazy bastard!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t think we were being serious here!”
“I know what I’m doing,” I said, equipping my shield.
“You better know what you’re doing” Bataar said, stepping back.
“Minx,” I said, without looking at her. “If Vane discovered us having escaped without any damage to the cell then he would automatically know it was you who aided us. I’m doing this to keep you safe. You have been more than enough help and I thank you.”
Minx just stood there, looking down at the grass.
“Why not let her help us this one last time?” Bataar begged. “Just this once! You heard the woman! That insane human isn’t going to let us leave here with our hides still attached!”
I ignored Bataar and placed my shoulder behind my shield. Without any warning, I used my Bash ability against the cell door.
BOOM!
I flew a few feet from the wagon, my face landing on top of my shield and scraping my nose. The pain flooded my eyes with tears and I wiped them away before standing up. I looked over my shoulder to see the two other players looking at me in amazement. Dust was settling in the air.
“What the… how the…”
Minx crossed her arms over her furry breasts and smiled. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, Sir Lionheart.” She winked at me.
Bataar looked at her then back at me, then back at her and then back at me. “Is anybody going to explain what the hell is going on?”
“Later,” I said, standing up and placing the Young Lionheart’s Shield on my back. “But first, we need to make our escape.”
21
We bid farewell to Minx who said really nothing at all. If I didn’t know any better, it seemed as though she, down deep, wished she was coming with us. I didn’t blame her. There was no way in hell I would ever work under such a horrible leader.
“Where to?” Bataar asked once we had made it a safe distance from the camp.
“I’m not sure,” I answered, stopping and looking at the trees above us. We had made it pretty deep into the forest, passing many Nectar Suckers. Much like the crabs on the beach, these foliage spiders kept their distance from me.
“Well, we won’t make it very far with Vane’s Trackers on our heels. We need to mask our scent.”
“And how do you suppose we do that?” I asked.
“Mud. Lots of mud.”
I threw him a glance of disbelief. “Mud? Really?”
“Do I look like a fool to you? Yes, really,” he said, now scanning the ground. “But we won’t find any here. Open your map and help me find a swamp or some sort of bog.”
I concentrated and the map window pulled up into my vision. Bataar and I were marked by a simple dot with an arrow pointing in the direction we were facing. We were directly in the middle of the forest and not too far west was some sort of green pool of water.
“That’s where we need to go,” Bataar said, pointing in the direction of the green pool. “Where exactly is that quest you were given?”
I checked the map again. At the very tip of the green pool of liquid was a small, grey cave with an exclamation point hovering above it. “It’s on the way, actually,” I said. “How long do you think before they sic the Trackers on us?”
“I’m unsure,” Bataar said, shaking his head in uncertainty. “But I doubt it will be very long from now. We better get going.”
“Agreed.”
We started to run in the direction of the swamp. I kept the map opened in my vision and was pleased to discover that the window went slightly transparent when I started to run, making it possible for me to see where I was going. I looked over at
the green pool again and caught the name of our destination.
The Dreaded Grog Bog
22
A medium-sized bug with thin wings and a long pinpoint sucking snout buzzed in our direction. We must have caught its attention when we passed under one of the many moss-covered trees. I already missed the pleasant and lifesaving sage trees of the forest.
“Watch out!” I cried, making Bataar cover his head with both hands.
“What? What is it?”
“Behind you!” I said, equipping my sword and shield.
Moss-Quito Level 15
Bataar swung blindly with his forearm and clipped the bug in its face, sending it my way. I lifted my shield and rammed it back towards him. Bataar clasped his hands together, his fingers braided between each other, and hammered the Moss-Quito down straight into the bog. We finished it off by grinding it into the bog with our heels.
The heavens opened up and shone upon Bataar. I watched as his eyes flew to the back of his head. Lucky bastard.
“Gratz,” I said.
“It’s been too damned long,” he said, punching a fist into his palm. “Who’s next?”
A strange feeling hit me, a feeling like something bad was about to happen. I turned my head left and right to see if anybody was watching us but saw no one. Bataar gave me a questioning glance before looking down at his legs in shock.
Before I had time to react, Bataar was pulled off his feet by a tentacle now wrapped around his ankle, and was being dragged away from me. I dove for him and caught the very edge of his claw tips, his sharp nails drove into the fleshy parts of my fingers sending needles of pain down my forearms.
We readjusted our grips as we were both dragged further and further into the bog. Mud flew into my mouth, into my eyes, and into my ears and I was unable to control my body which turned violently in all directions hitting all sorts of rocks and brush.
Health: 96%
The unpleasant ride stopped itself abruptly. I could see that Bataar was still being tightly held on to by the purple tentacle. He and I both did not let go of our grip.
The Lionheart_a LitRPG Novel Page 11