Chapter 59: Vendetta’s Galore
Brent remembered the first time he had ever read about Christie of the Old Guard. She had been described as a woman of surpassing beauty who was as powerful as she was intelligent. All the books said she had been personally chosen by Solomon to be his potion master and the official chronicler of the Old Guard. As she stood before the arena stage with a look of contempt for Markon, the other players gave her a wide berth. Brent was sure most if not all of them had only ever heard of the Old Guard and were just as shocked as he was to see one of their illustrious members in the flesh. She was slightly shorter than Chase, and had dark auburn hair. She wore a pair of glasses and was dressed in deep green traveling clothes.
“Alex,” said Brent breathlessly. He grasped his friend’s shoulder and whispered into his ear. “That’s Christie! She’s the first over powered player we’ve ever seen!”
“Yeah, I know,” said Alex, shrugging off Brent. “Don’t get too excited.”
“She’s apart of the Old Guard!”
“Yeah, I know.”
“She has ten contract marks!”
“Yeah,” said Alex with a sigh. “I know that too, Brent. Will you relax?”
Christie folded her arms and stared at Markon, clearly displeased that he had called her out.
“Thanks for the introduction,” said Christie, narrowing her eyes. “Now everyone knows who I am. Thanks, player.”
“PLAYER?” Markon yelled, then he coughed a couple times and beat his chest with a hand until he stopped. “Player? I am not just any player, Christie. Don’t you know who I am?”
“Nope,” said Christie. She looked around at all the star struck platers around her. “What are you all looking at?”
“I am Markon,” said the big man on the stage. He took a step towards Christie. He was close to the edge of the stage and was towering over her. “Markon the Mangy some call me.”
“Still don’t know who you are,” said Christie. She sighed. “I was walking through town and heard there was a contract tournament. All I wanted to do was watch it peacefully but now some fan can’t keep it together for just a couple hours.”
“FAN?!” Markon yelled, and Brent saw a vein pop on his forehead. “I am no FAN of the old guard. You filthy warts on Esem’s hide killed my entire guild!”
“Ah,” said Christie, her eyes widening slightly. “I see. Seems this still upsets you. Some consider it an honor to be killed by one of us.”
There was some nervous laughs from the surrounding players. People began making a circle around Christie and the arena stage where Markon was looking like a bull about to charge.
“You don’t remember me?”
Christie shook her head.
“Nope.”
“We were the Sliding Death Brigade,” said Markon. He seemed to pull himself together and his rage subsided. For some reason Brent felt a pit in his stomach forming seeing the big man relax upon the stage. “Karkren hunted us down. I saw him kill my guild leader, and all my friends one by one. He left me alive for some reason.”
“That certainly sounds like Karkren,” said Christie with a nod. She placed her hand on her chin thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, maybe I do remember you and your guild. Karkren told me once about some rogue players who were robbing new spawns in Nabonoban. He killed everyone but this craven fool who tried to run away when his friends began to die. Was that you?”
The rage returned.
“LIES!” Shouted Markon. Though he had no sword on his hip Markon placed his hand to his side as though ready to draw a sword. “Now prepare yourself, Christie of the Old Guard. Today I avenge my guild.”
“Is that so?” Said Christie, raising an eyebrow. “You do know I am OP, correct?”
“OP?” Markon spit. “Don’t make me laugh. You may have ten contracts but you’re no fighter. I may only have five marks myself but those are combat marks. I earned them all through battling other players and they will be more than enough for the likes of you. I am currently a level 6 Divine Paladin. Only one in a thousand player ever get signed for this.”
“So you’re dead set on fighting?”
“Yes! Are you ready? I won’t let it be said I killed you unfairly despite what Karkren did to my guild.”
“Yes, you’re quite the gentleman,” said Christie. She sighed once more and looked around at the other players. For a moment Brent thought she looked directly at him and he felt a shiver crawl up his spine. “No one is going to help a lady?”
Alex grabbed Brent by the shoulder as he began to step forward.
“Brent,” hissed Alex. “We need to go find Chase.”
“Just wait,” said Brent. “I have to see what happens.”
“Fine,” said Alex in resignation. “But only a couple minutes. And no helping her! I saw you try to go over there!”
“I was not!”
“Was too!”
Brent shrugged off his friend’s hand and crossed his arms.
“Guess I am all alone then,” said Christie. She turned around to face Markon again. “Allow me one small moment to prepare myself.”
Christie reached into a pouch dangling from her belt and removed a small corked bottle. She shaked it a couple times and then popped the cork and took a whiff. She wrinkled her nose at the smell.
“A potion?” Markon barked a laugh. “It better be a good one. You’re gonna need it.”
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Despite his attitude Markon never took his eyes off of Christie and her little potion. His fingers twitched where his hand remained by his side. He still had no weapon in his hand and the great sword remained on his back. Brent wondered what he was planning.
“This isn’t a potion,” said Christie. Then she poured the contents of the bottle upon the ground. A stream of black fog issued from the bottle and coalesced before her. More air than the bottle suggested was possibly came from the bottle, and it swirled before Christie and then grew into a small vortex. Suddenly, it began to take the shape of a person.
“What is this?” Said Markon, eyes narrowing as the smoke swirled faster and faster.
“You will see,” said Christie with a small smirk. “I hope you weren’t thinking I’d be getting my own hands dirty with this. As you said, I am not a combat player by any means. I have to always get some help.”
Markon sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly.
“So that’s what that is,” he said. His hand began to glow and a great light seemed to be burning within his palm. “Sorry, but I can’t allow that to happen.”
Markon lunged for the figure within the smoke. A great sword of light now emitted from his palm.
“Celestial Sword!” Bellowed Markon. He had a sword of light and he swung it as hard as he could at the figure in the smoke. At the last moment, the smoke finished its swirling and the blade stopped, caught in the dark hands of some creature. It looked human, but the only features Brent could make out were a pair of large eyes and a grinning mouth, its teeth full and pointed. It towered over Markon.
“Say hello to Cutie Pie,” said Christie. She looked deeply please with herself. “I had Dredman help me brew him up ages ago.”
“It’s…it’s…” Markon gritted his teeth as he tried to wrest control of his magic blade. The hilt, the cross guard, and of course the blade itself was entirely made of light. The creature in the smoke was easily holding onto the sword and didn’t seem to be straining at all to hold onto it. “It’s a Twilight Demon!”
“Close,” said Christie. “But not quite. Um,” she looked around at the players who were gaping at what her potion had wrought. “You all might want to stand back a bit more. This could get ugly.”
The players took the hint. Brent heard the beginnings of a stampede as players started to leave the area as fast as they could.
“It’s time, Brent,” said Alex hurriedly. “We need to leave. Now!”
“But—,” began Brent.
“NO! Come on.”
Christie was smiling sadly at Markon.
“Cutie Pie,” she said to the monster. “Don’t hurt him too badly, okay? He’s conducting this tournament, after all.”
“Yessssssssss.” It hissed in response.
A huge light emitted from Markon’s sword and an explosion sounded. Brent found himself on the ground, and Alex was pulling him to his feet. He was opening and closing his mouth but words were not coming out. He allowed himself to be dragged up and then the pair shot off after the crowd.
He didn’t look back.
The stampede made it difficult, but Brent and Alex finally found the The Royal Inn. They burst through the doors to find Chase and Thomas. No one else was around.
“I swear, Chase,” Thomas was saying. “I barely touched the grimy little hoodlum. I just tied him up around that weird statue in the temple and left him there.”
“There is going to be hell to pay with Meredith,” said Chase. He was examining a spool of black thread as he spoke.
“So? Are we scared of them now? I can’t even remember the name of their guild. Seb is fine, trust me.”
“Tommy—Brent! Alex!” Chase spun around. “Why are you two here? Hey,” he went to he window and opened the blinds. “Where is everyone going?”
“Chase,” said Alex gravely. He shut the blinds and grabbed the leader by the shoulders. “The Old Guard are here! In Birchtown!”
Chase blinked.
“Are you joking?”
“No, he isn’t,” said Brent, making sure no one else was around. Wasn’t the innkeeper supposed to be here all the time? “But we only saw Christie. She got into a fight with Markon.”
“Christie?” Chase said. He frowned and looked back at Thomas. “Thomas, stay here.”
“Where are you going?” Said Thomas.
“We need to find Claire,” said Chase. “Hey, where is Amelie?”
“She said she was going to go look for Claire,” said Brent. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave? She doesn’t know who you are, after all.”
Chase took a seat across from Thomas and stared at the ground in thought. He drummed a tattoo with his fingers on the table.
“You said she got into a fight with that Markon guy,” said Chase. “Why?”
“Markon said he wanted revenge for Karkren killing his guild,” explained Alex. “Then Markon drew this sword that was made of light, and Christie summoned some kind of monster out of a bottle.”
“Out of a bottle?” Chase glanced at the door. Suddenly his fervor to leave vanished. “Well then, Markon is a goner. If she is here and got into a spat with him then you’re probably right—she doesn’t know about me.”
“Then what should we do?” Said Alex.
“Nothing,” shrugged Chase. “The tournament is going to be postponed though, that’s for sure. Always bet on Christie for ruining a good time.”
“But just a second ago you wanted to leave,” said Alex, confusion in his voice. “What about Amelie and Claire?”
“I am sure they can handle themselves,” said Chase. “Look, fights happen. Esem is just as full of over powered players as it is full of vendettas and vengeance pacts. I doubt the fighting will extend past Markon and Christie, though.”
“Do you know why she is here?” Asked Thomas. He was trying to peer out the window having gotten up once Chase sat down.
“Who knows,” said Chase. He examined his nails. “And to be honest, she is the last one I would want to see out of my old guild anyways. Best let this scuffle just blow over.”
The door slammed open and a dozen players flooded inside, bringing their excited conversations with them. Soon most of the tables were filled and some were looking over the counter for the inn keeper. Soon there were cries wondering where the innkeeper was. Brent and Alex sat beside Chase so they wouldn’t be overheard.
“Okay,” said Brent. “What should we do while we wait?”
“Well we certainly can’t have a drink can we?” Said Chase, glancing pitifully at the bar. “Have you guys noticed anything off about the NPCs in this town? I haven’t been here in years but I don’t remember them being so inattentive.”
“I’ve gotten some strange look is all,” Brent said, thinking back to when he was signing up for the tournament. “But nothing too odd.”
“So strange,” muttered Chase. “Oh well. Hey, there she is. look sharp, Tommy.”
Meredith entered the inn and made a beeline for the Banes.
“Well?” She said impatiently. “Have you seen him?”
“Who?” Said Thomas innocently.
“Seb.” Meredith arched an eyebrow.
“Alright,” said Chase, standing up. “We know where he is.”
“Chase!” Began Thomas.
“Relax, Tommy. Meredith, there’s been a slight situation, but Seb is fine, trust me.”
Her eyes narrowed and she looked ready to slug Chase.
“You know where he is? Did you lie to me, Chase?”
“No,” said Chase, waving his hands. “At least, not knowingly. Apparently Thomas got into a small scuffle with your little thief earlier.”
“Why you,” Meredith grabbed Thomas by the ear and he yowled in pain. “What did you do to Sebby?”
“Ow, owowowoow! Enough!” Thomas cried. She let him go. “I saw him wandering near the village temple. You know the one with the weird statues?”
“And?” She leaned close to him and he gulped.
“And I followed him,” said Thomas. “All I did was tie him up, okay? I figured someone would have helped him by now.”
“You are taking me there RIGHT now.” Said Meredith. “Up. You too, Chase,” she added.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing, and that’s exactly the problem.”
Thomas glowered at Chase for revealing his secret and Chase merely shrugged.
“Seb would have told her anyways, Thomas,” explained Chase. “Besides, she is a friend of ours.”
“We will see about who is friends with whom,” said Meredith. “Come on, both of you.”
Thomas muttered some thing under his breath but got up regardless. Chase followed suit. With nothing else to do, Brent and Alex decided to also follow them out the inn and down the street to the little temple near the edge of town.
“I guess you heard about the fight at the arena?” Chase eventually said to Meredith as they walked down the street.
“Yeah,” said Meredith brusquely. “One of the Old Guard and that big guy running the show. Is that why all these people are milling about?”
Brent could see the temple now, though why it was called a temple he had no idea. It resembled more of a shrine and didn’t seem big enough for more than a couple people to enter at a time. He had seen a few similar things during their travels including one in Moontown. A large bunch of people were gathered around the temple.
“Maybe,” said Chase, doubtfully. “Let’s check.”
They pushed their way to the front of the crowd, earning themselves some dirty looks. Half the crowd was NPC and the other half players who had gotten caught up in the flight from the arena.
“Move,” said Meredith, pushing someone out of the way. “You too, outta the way! Seb? Seb! Can you hear me? SEB!”
Meredith froze. Brent couldn’t see what she was looking at and so had to slip between an NPC and a player for a look.
The temple had been utterly ransacked, and graffiti coated nearly every inch of marble. What had once been a lovely and neat shrine was now covered in paint. Flowers, once arranged around the temple, were strewn and trampled upon. Vases had been broken and what looked like cloth that might have adorned the statues within were torn and discarded about the ground.
“Seb! Are you okay?”
Meredith fell to her knees, cradling the head of Seb. He was unconscious, and appeared to have been beaten severely. A thin, long, and black string had bound him to a marble pillar, preventing his escape.
He wasn’t moving.