Gamers Gate

by J. Scott Garibay

Derek gazes at the crystal blue sea spanning out beyond the port city Gloan Alta. "Do you have its equal on Earth?" Brugon Slace leans against the rail. "Absolutely, New York shipyards are filled with ships from all over the world. Airplanes dozens of times faster than this skyship. Buildings so high they call them skyscrapers." Brugon breaths the cool sea air in and gazes across the white capped waves below, "I like the sound of that. You know, Derek, you seemed genuine in your desire to warn of us your of world. The changes you warn of seem significant. Powerful ranged weapons, transportation beyond the means of Thrycion. Significant power lies in these things. But a world that has never seen magic? Hmmm... I wonder if Earth does not have more to be concerned with of our world than we do of yours." “Perhaps, Brugon, perhaps." Brugon grins and points down at the city, "You were right, Derek. Gloan Alta is buzzing. Look at the walls filling up with citizens to see Thrycion's first skyship. This will be good day for my people. Trajon will pay most likely a heavy price for our lumber, as much as we can fell, and we will grow rich as he wars against the humans and elves surrounding his lands." "If you are supplying him to war won’t that make his enemies your enemies eventually?" "Sooner than later, Derek, but I will sell to Trajon's human enemies as well."

  Derek zips up his hoodie as a cool ocean breeze sweeps across the bow of the skyship. "What about he elves?" Brugon's fangs show as he frowns, "They have always treated my people with contempt. I look forward to seeing their blood spilled in their manicured forests." Derek stares ahead at Gloan Alta. Even from their distance the increased bustle of the port city is evident. "Look at that." Derek points down to the east gate of the city. Two riders, King Trajon’s colors flashing with their movement, barrel out of the city's west gate. They push their mounts down a path parallel to the sea. "They are headed toward Noenficar Mountain. Toward the portal."

  Brugon turns and calls to the female sorcerer. "Ayahail! Quickly." Ayahail motions for an orc near her to take the skyship’s wheel and shoves other orc warriors out of her way as she approaches Brugon. She takes her place beside the great half-orc. Brugon points, "I wish to see the top of that mountain." Derek steps back as the sorcerer scrawls runes of light in front of her. An instant passes before a thick shaft of light flashes out across the bow of the skyship. A grey winged falcon appears at the end of the beam and wheels around to head back to the sorcerer. Before the bird reaches her Ayahail raises her fingers to the bird. A circle of red luminosity appears and passes through the bird. The sorcerer closes her eyes. Brugon places his hand on hers shoulders and readies to steady her if need be. Azor approaches. Derek steps away from Brugon and Ayahail. "What did she do?"

  Azor leans down and speaks as quietly as his granite throat allows, "She summoned that hawk with an advanced spell that allows her to see through its eyes. As soon as it was summoned onto this plane she teleported it from here to the highest point she can see on the mountain. She is looking through the falcon's eyes right now as it travels above the trees. She must maintain the spell even as she is perceiving from another point of view. That is why Brugon stands close, in case she loses her balance. It is a disorienting experience, Bryong has told me." Derek steps aside as an orc hauls loops of rope passed him. All of the orcs are busy now preparing for disembarkation at the port city below. Derek walks across the deck and pulls himself up on to a thick baton circle that surround the center yard mast. "I think I see smoke at the at the top of the mountain." Azor looks to where Derek is pointing. "Thin wisps," the Golon says. "Probably cooking fires." Derek jumps down as Brugon takes his hands away from the sorcerer's shoulders. He listens to her report and nods before calling to the orc at the rear of the ship. "Ridge Leaper, haul that wheel around, head to the mountain. Trajon and his impling son are at the portal now with two dozen king's guardians and three times that in soldiers." The orcs and goblins and gnolls bustle around with comments and jabbering before changing their activity. The skyship stalls in the sky for a moment before the crew works out the process of turning the sails at the needed angle. The skyship surges forward and satisfied growls and chortles bubble up from the monstrous crew.

  Brugon holds up a gleaming blade, “It’s a vorpal blade taken off of some fool paladin who rode into our village alone on a white destrier last Krauforner's day. My people were celebrating and this human rides into the village singing about flowers and stars and lopping heads off left and right from atop his warhorse. He got two dozen fathers and challengers before my people pulled him down. They ripped his plate mail off of him piece by piece and stabbed him to death. His warhorse was delicious and extended the Krauforner's feasting for a whole day." Derek takes the thin jet black sword. "The balance is fantastic. But, Brugon, I can't use this. It's worth 35,000 gold pieces. It should go to your finest warrior. Not me."

  Brugon draws his blade and strikes down at Derek. Azor's hand goes to the hilt of Klage as Derek jumps back, raises the vorpal sword and parries. "And what will you use to defend yourself, Earther? Your selling phone? As sure as Goblin's like gristle hind, blades will flash when we meet Trajon on that mountain. If I had met him at Buelgwarn Castle, him on his throne with all his power to rain on me at his whim." Brugon shakes his head and continues, "And if his son were off at a brothel as he usually is then I expect we would have been able to come to an agreement, making a mutually beneficial trade of land for the enchanted wood. But we will stand toe to toe on soil and he will be unsettled. He can not control his son, Prince Ayson, who will force conflict because his hatred for monsters overwhelms his sense. You will need the magic in that blade and rest assured my best – Kreelbreaker, Chorsk, Thistlebane, Freestorn, and Sunderbale – are equipped from head to toe with the finest magic items from many fallen adventurers. Unlike humans we of the monster lands do not trade magic items for shiny coins." Azor nods in agreement. Derek smiles, "Thank you, Brugon. Again, I am stunned by the generosity of the people of Thrycion.”

  Ayahail tugs at the runes on her sleeves, "No, Derek, thank you for aiding Kinewyn and his band. They have been allies to our people for many years. Kinewyn continues to recruit brave and unique heroes." Derek looks down at his ACG sneakers and the moment is broken as goblins begin to curse at each other in the rigging. The skyship turns, narrowly avoiding collision with the mountain. Brugon's pilot takes them up on an upward, spiraling route to where smoke can be seen. Derek waits for Azor at the bow. The leaves of the tall trees below are beginning to change to the brilliant reds, oranges and yellow of autumn. The skyship rounds a sharp curve of the mountain; a deep shelf juts into the towering stone.

  Below dozens of King's Guards and soldiers troop over thick green grass that is interrupted every few meters by crags of black rock. Immediately, the men below draw their weapons. Azor points as several of the soldiers, each wearing leather instead of the chain armor worn by others of the King's men, sprint to nearby trees and begin climbing toward the skyship. Azor points to the King's banner, planted firmly in the loamy soil, only five yards before the gaping maw of tunnel entrance that leads to the portal. Prince Ayson Trajon runs and yanks the banner out of the ground and charges on toward the skyship. Brugon curses in orcish and jumps on to the skyship railing, saving himself from a 50 yard fall by snagging a sail rope that pulls taught with his weight. He brings his free hand to his mouth and bellows, "Stand down! We come to treat with King Trajon. We offer trade and exclusivity to your kingdom." Prince Ayson shouts from below ordering his treed archers to fire. Arrows arc across the bow and Derek instinctively raises his hand before his face. He is startled when an arrow lodges perfectly through Brugon's throat. Azor shouts immediately, “Sorceress, sorceress, here to me." Azor moves over Brugon, who has fallen back off the railing and is sprawled on the deck choking as a red circle halos out from beneath his neck.

  Azor's voice booms through Derek's surprise, "Remove the arrow!" Derek glances back toward the trees. An archer’s arrow arcs past his shoulder and shatters against the aft mast. Azor growls. Derek kneels and moves Brugon's hands away. D
erek hears an angry orcish shriek. A young half-orc warrior sprints across the deck, leaps to the railing and launches himself into the tree of Brugon’s attacker. Derek focuses, grabs the arrow at its base and snaps the shaft with one clean powerful jerk. Arrows skitter across the deck as he lifts Brugon onto his side. Derek yanks the bottom half of the broken arrow out from the back of Brugon’s neck. Brugon's eyes are now shut. Derek rolls the monster leader back supporting his head with a hand now slick with blood.

  The sorceress arrives with spell components in hand and Derek shifts out of her way. "Kerzai chath frovolost theng." A flash of spiral light bridges between Brugon’s wound and her right hand. Derek watches the wound heal in seconds, a flush of health returns to Brugon. He thinks back to the dozens of times Max's cleric healed his paladin in their Blade & Bolt campaign. He brushes away splinters from the arrow shaft off of Brugon's neck. Brugon blinks and sputters. Azor pushes Derek aside to haul Brugon to his feet. Rage flashes across the half-orc's visage and he grabs hold of one of soldiers who is rushing by. Brugon draws a  heavy, serrated blade from the soldier's sheath and lifts it above his head. He screams a war cry to his men.

  Derek dodges left as arrows whistle across the deck. Brugon shouts to the pilot. "Take us down, takes us down!" Brugon grimaces as an arrow punches through his left arm. "Bring me Prince Ayson’s head," he howls. Orcs rally around their leader as the pilot arcs the skyship close to the mountain. Brugon and his men hurl themselves over the port railing onto the high ledge above Trajon’s camp. Azor jogs over to Derek, drawing his six foot blade. Derek steps back, unsure, "Wait. Wait. What about talking to King Trajon? Just because his son is a vengeful fool that doesn't mean that King Trajon won't talk with Brugon."Azor places a mammoth stone hand on Derek’s shoulder, "Look down there. Brugon's men and Trajon’s men are dying. There will be decisions made here today, but they will be made by the victor. Now, decide. Do you want that victor to be Brugon or Trajon?"

  Derek grabs the rail to steady himself as the skyship scrapes alongside the mountain. "Brugon. I want Brugon to be the victor." Azor nods, "Then raise your blade, man, and make it so." As the skyship turns back to the open, Derek draws the vorpal sword and leaps onto the craggy ledge. He falls against the slick stone and cries out in pain as he scrapes his knees. An instant later, the rock around him vibrates as Azor pounds to a landing on sure feet. The golon reaches down to Derek and hauls him up. Azor whirls Klage before him and runs to the grassy edge below. He crashes into three of the Kings Guard. A clatter of armor, a scream and two of the King’s Guard are down, silent. Derek turns to see a plate-mailed figure charging toward him. He shifts his stance as he has observed Azor do and raises the vorpal sword. He dodges the wide fast attack and the fighter follows his arching attack passed Derek, who turns and kicks the falling attacker in the shoulder. The man falls heavily onto the grass and curses.

  Derek raises the vorpal sword and buries it in the man's stomach. He yanks the blade from clutching gauntlets and turns to see a dozen of Trajon’s men running toward the cliff's edge where Brugon is advancing with his orc warriors. Shouting and the harsh ring of steel fill the air. A King's Guard attacks Derek with a spear. He sidesteps, slams the spear to the ground and bashes the guard square in his face guard. The guard falls and Derek leaps high and stomps visously on the guards mailed chest. The plate crumples and Derek kicks him in the head for good measure. Guards approach from his left and he begins running toward the portal until he hears the distinct sound of a thick chain playing out.

  Derek turns immediately to see four of Trajon's soldiers carrying thick lengths of chains ending in large hooks. They hurtle straight toward Azor the Golon and Derek burst into a following run. He gains fast on the last soldier in the line and shifts his blade in his hand to attack from behind. Armor and muscle slam into him from his left, throwing him two yards. Derek rolls, his blade slices across his thigh before he is able to stand and face the King’s Guard who is raising a short sword and advancing. Even as his newest attacker closes Derek glances over toward Azor and sees the Golon is frozen, his sapphire eyes locked on the chain gang that is now surrounding him. Derek realizes that Coveark, Bryong and Kinewyn have faced this before and saved their friend. Right now, right here, Derek must be the band mate that protects Azor.

  Derek curses and rolls to his left to get away from the attacker. A cacophony emanates from behind his attacker and both men turn to see the source. A battle wagon, pulled swiftly by two heavy horses, barrels forward. Steel banded wheels press a hard line across the loamy ground. Derek's attacker is forced to jump out of the way. Derek does not hesitate, rolling to his feet and running alongside the battle wagon. The gamer does not lose a stride as he leaps up onto the side, vaults to the top and skewers the driver through the shoulder blades from behind. He kicks the man down from the driver’s seat and takes the reins with one hand. The wood splinters as Derek slams his magical blade down in the seat next to him and circles the wagon around. The barded heavy horses trample the first chain swinger as though he were brambles and brush. The second chain swinger dives out of the way only to be caught by an arrow from one of Brugon’s orcs from 30 meters away. Derek careens the wagon toward the third and fourth chain swingers. The third chain swinger whirls his chain and delivers a  lightning fast strike of meters of his chain to the forelegs of the left horse. A grating shriek escapes from the horse as its legs churn at the tightening chain.

  The paired horses startle and rear up cracking the wooden rail between them. The momentum of the battle wagon pushes against the two horses and both are crushed to the ground. The battle wagon splinters the horses rigging and rolls a few more yards before tipping over on to the right wheels. Derek sees the shift coming, snatches up his blade and deftly jumps over to the side of the battle wagon, which has now become its top. Azor is peering around, shaken. His giant sword, Klage, now rests in only one stony hand, not positioned for attack or defense. Derek sees a second chain gang running across the mountain ledge toward Azor with Prince Ayson at their head. Derek shouts, "Run, run, Azor. Run to the skyship. Now! Now!" Azor looks to Derek, looks at Klage held listlessly in his giant hand. He tightens his granite grip, sheaths his blade and runs.

  A flash of joy wells in Derek as he realizes the Golon trusts him as a bandmate. He turns back to see where Prince Ayson is and leaps down from the top of the battle wagon. His left hand is on the wagon wheel to steady his quick drop. He moves to toward Prince Ayson but a sheer pain erupts in his wrist and his feet remain where they are. He looks to his wrist. It is buried beneath at least three circles of chain. Even as the young man realizes what has happened the chain swinger yanks the line and the coil pulls tight with three hooks digging into the chain and the wood of the battle wagon. Derek yanks hard but accomplishes no more than dislodging some broken spears of wood which fall to the soil. Prince Ayson lets his momentum drop and stops just short of the reach of Derek's sword.

  He smacks at Derek's glistening blade and smiles broadly. Derek grunts and tries to pull free of the wagon wheel. His wrist is caught fast. Prince Ayson circles Derek, tapping and jabbing at his sword, enjoying his opponent’s helplessness. Prince Ayson looks intently at Derek's. He steps back, "You are the planewalker. We had an adventurer from the north reporting four planewalkers traveling toward the monster lands with Kinewyn’s band. Well, well planewalker, one foot onto our Thrycion and you have allied yourself with the very worst of our world." A cruel smile cracks Prince Ayson face and he lunges forward slicing Derek's sword arm. "One of your companions has already lost her life on Thrycion. You will be the second of your group to die." Derek strains and swings, cutting only air.

  Prince Ayson jumps forward and Derek parries his blow weakly. Derek tries to catch a glimpse of Azor, hoping his friend has reached the skyship, escaped the other chain gang members that pursued him. He cannot see passed Prince Ayson, who is pressing. His thoughts swirl up, "I am going to die here on Thrycion, just like Cynthia did." Fear wells in t
he young gamer as he grips his sword unable to move toward or away from his attacker. Prince Ayson hacks again at his guard and then steps back and inhales deeply, readying himself. Derek sees the King behind Prince Ayson. King Trajon is now running out of the mountain tunnel that leads to the portal. The King is yelling; his hand outstretched to his son. The combatants, both Brugon’s orcs and the King’s Guard are lowering their weapons. But the king’s words are lost; drown out by a scream of rage as the Prince pulls back his sword for a killing strike. Derek realizes this is the last moment of his life, unless he can save himself. In a flash Derek raises his blade, strikes down severing his trapped and sweeps forward with an arcing slice with his good arm. Prince Ayson’s head hits the ground with only the piff of soft grass beneath it. A silence from the King’s Guard and Brugon’s forces as the King's words reach Derek. "No, son, no. I command peace. I command peace."

  Chapter 19