“Wait a moment, check the jailer. He might have keys.” So far, none of the doors we had come across had been locked, but Dana was still cuffed, and there was a possibility of a locked door further in. If the bandits made regular use of this castle as a hideout, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities that they had added a lock to a door, or found a key and decided to put it to use.
I mean, they were bandits. While they worked together, I certainly wasn’t going to assume there was honor among thieves. They very well might steal from each other given the right opportunity. So locked doors made sense, right? “Overthinking this…”
Ophelia just stared at me as I spent a few seconds going down that particular train of thought. My distracted thinking was going to get me killed one day, since whenever it happened, I tended to zone out for a moment and stop paying attention to my surroundings. Dana, Cyril, and the minotaurs whose names I hadn’t learned yet all caught up then. We dug around for a few seconds, and I ignored the absolute ghoulishness of stealing from a corpse. It was actually surprising that I didn’t feel the urge to vomit. I suppose I was finally getting used to all this.
We did find a set of keys. There were only three on the ring. One was shiny brass, another was rusted iron, and the last was a bright, highly polished silver. “Dana, see if any of these work on your cuffs.” I handed her the keys then, and checked to see if he had anything else of use.
His armor would take too much time to get off, as would his boots. Ever since leaving the trial ground, I had been bootless again, since those had been a part of the armory and not something I had brought in with me. Instead, I took the mace and a dagger he had in a sheath on his belt. I gave the mace to the larger minotaur, who held it without a hint of confidence.
“We aren’t fighters.” His low voice rumbled, and the smaller one nodded as well.
“Well, neither am I, but when in Rome.”
“Rome?” asked Cyril, looking up from where he was scavenging archery equipment. He had taken a bow and both quivers, strapping them around his chest so they hung parallel off his back.
“A city where I am from. It's not important.”
“Where ARE you from?” Cyril asked, an eyebrow raised. I was planning to ignore that question, but a happily timed clink from Dana meant that I could just change the subject instead.
The silver key had been for the bracelet, and it dropped to the ground. Dana inhaled deeply, and even I could feel her gathering mana from all around. Tiny roots pushed up from the ground and wrapped around her ankles, and each step she took left those little roots behind where they started to grow tiny leaves. Her skin turned a deeper, healthier shade of green, and her hair more vibrant. Were all dryads this beautiful, or was it just her?
“So much better.” She said, sighing happily as she took a few more steps, leaving tiny green plants growing between the cobblestone floor with each pass of her feet. “I can help now, though I’m low on mana, so don’t expect too much.”
“That's better than we had a minute ago.” Ophelia nodded and turned, obviously wanting to leave. “But we need to go. I’m fairly sure Roquain is second tier. He survived being run through without much trouble.”
I could see everyone’s expressions fall, as though every hope they had was dashed to pieces. I wanted to ask what that meant, but felt it would give me away too much. Ophelia already knew, but nobody else did, and I wasn’t sure if it should be a secret or not.
The group ran then, heading back the way we had come for a little. The hallways were tight, forcing us into almost single file, and with the addition of the minotaurs and Cryil, all who had hooved feet, there was no way we weren’t heard from a mile away.
I tried to open up my map in the corner of my PSD, thinking maybe it would give me an idea as to where we were going, but it didn’t seem to do buildings. All it gave me was a vaguely gray pentagon shape around a green square. The rest was all voided out. No internal structure to the building or anything. Not nearly as useful as a minimap in a game.
We just followed our intrepid leader instead as she twisted and turned through the hallways. Every now and then, the hall would grow in size, a bit wider, a bit better lit with windows. Eventually, even the minotaurs could walk side by side. We must be leaving the less traveled parts of the castle for the more main thoroughfares. I really hope that meant we were getting closer to the entrance. I was sick of dungeons and castles. Cramped spaces all about and I was starting to feel claustrophobic.
Well, I was right. We were headed to the entrance. We just weren’t the first to make it there.
Roquain was waiting for us in front of a large arched doorway in a wide, open room. The wooden doors were closed, a heavy looking plank laid across them in metal hooks, barring the door from being easily opened. And it wasn’t just the bandit leader either. 7 more men stood with him, all holding a variety of weapons. Swords, spears, axes. One was in robes, the earth mage from before. A nasty red splotch stained his clothes, and he was holding a hand to his side, pressing a bandage in.
The two groups stood facing each other. I gave Ophelia a nervous glance, having come to rely on her strength. “We run, split up and try to find our own ways out.”
Okay, not what I wanted to hear. Apparently, Roquain didn’t like that idea either. “Archie, the doors please.” The mage nodded, and chanted out a few words I couldn’t catch. The various open doorways that spread out from this main entryway all started to seal up with earth and rock.
None of us said a word. It was too late. The mage, Archie, was panting now, looking ready to collapse. I decided to take a brief second to take stock of the space. Maybe I had missed something. It was a hallway in only the most literal of definitions. A large enclosed space between two different sets of ceiling high wooden doors. Both were barred shut now, and the one that led to salvation was blocked by the bodies of Roquain and his men. All of the doors leading into offshoot hallways had been sealed over by stone brought up from the earth. There were a few windows up high on the wall, letting in a decent amount of light. The walls were either bare stone blocks, or covered in torn and shredded tapestries. The floor had once been carpeted, but that was long destroyed, leaving only traces and a lighter colored stone where the carpet had once protected it. All in all, there was nothing.
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It was going to be a fight, and a bad one at that. Cyril, Dana, and I all stepped back a bit, leaving the minotaurs and Ophelia along the front.
Roquain stared at us with disdain and opened his mouth. “Kill them if you have to, but take the dryad alive. We can still make some money even if we only have her.” With a deafening roar, 6 of his men charged at us, Roquain staying behind for the time being with the mage. As the bandits charged, I hit the lead bandit, one with a sword, with appraisal, trying to figure out anything I could.
Name: Thellius Redwick
Race: Human
Age: 33
Focus Core: Sword
Level: 1
Useless. And that level, shouldn’t that have gone up if he was over 30? I didn’t have time to ponder the questions though, as the bandits landed on our frontline like a wave crashing on a beach.
There was too much to follow all at once. The larger of the minotaurs was a force. Every time he swung, the mace whistled through the air with its speed. His strength, reach, and the weight of the mace combined into a deadly bruiser. But at the same time, he was slow and unpracticed. His blows were easy to see coming, and he only managed to keep the bandits from closing in on him and landing blows themselves instead of killing any of them.
The smaller minotaur wasn’t so lucky. He didn’t have a weapon, as the shortswords carried by the bandits killed before were too small for him to use. Instead, he lashed out with mighty punches and kicks, but struggled to keep himself balanced. It only took seconds for his arms and legs to become streaked with blood as the bandits landed blows.
Ophelia was the real reason the front line held. Her speed and practiced attacks forced the bandits to gather on her 3 to 1. She could keep from being hit, and launched counter attacks with reckless speed, but every time she tried to close in on one of the bandits to finish them, the other two would quickly spring into action and block the attack. The three were a meat shield, unable to actually kill any of their opponents, and slowly getting whittled away in turn. They would only last until one of the three went down, then the other two would fall instantly.
Even with my enhanced sight, I couldn’t get a clear enough picture of the battlefield to effectively shield any of them. Everyone was too close together, too bunched up, and my only barrier spell was meant to be used with precision. Certainly I could just throw walls up that would shield their entire body, but that would eat through my limited mana faster than a hungry dog. Neither Cyril nor I could launch an offensive attack either, as the fighting was already too close together for clean shots. Dana was doing something, chanting out words and clasping her hands together like she was praying, but it didn’t seem to be coming quickly.
The real issue though, was Roquain. I could see that the mage next to him was on the ground now, seemingly unconscious. I suppose there must be some danger to using a large amount of mana at once, or he had lost too much blood. The bandit chief locked his eyes on Dana and started running around the outside of the room to go around the melee fighters and get straight to the three of us. He had unsheathed a large longsword, and had a small wooden shield on one arm. None of his armaments or his metal armor seemed to slow him down though, as he was moving faster than even Ophelia had.
Name: Roquain Alehan
Race: Human
Age: 37
Focus: Flame Sword
Level: 2
Well, that was better at least. Level 2. Were levels supposed to be tiers? It didn’t matter at that moment though. He was just closing in too quickly. I fired off a force bolt, and Cyril shot off two arrows before he could close the distance, but it just wasn’t enough. My magic was deflected off the shield, and Cyril’s arrows were nimbly dodged. He swung at the cervitaur with a sword wreathed in flames, and Cyril screamed as the blade cut through his flank, sending him to the ground.
Then Roquain lifted up his sword for another slash, aimed at Dana, who had yet to move.
“No!” I shouted, and created a barrier between his blade and Dana. His sword hit it, and bounced away as the barrier shattered into thousands of pieces.
“Bring forth the lance which pierces even fate.” The words were jittered, hard to pronounce, and I almost messed up the short incantation. Even worse, calling forth my weapon caused my mana pool to drain precipitously. I had just a bit over a third left. But if Dana died, I’d be next, and then what the fuck did I do all this for in the first place?
I ran forward like a lunatic, adrenaline pulsing through me like fire in my veins. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, loud enough to drown out the sounds of fighting, and everything seemed to slow down just a little. The smell of blood, singed flesh, and burnt hair made my nose burn and my eyes water, but I ran in anyways. Under the cover of the shattered barrier, I thrust forward, and felt the spear hit something.
The remnants of the barrier faded, and I could see that my spear had cut along Roquain’s side, the thrust missing penetrating him, but had managed to catch him along the side where his armor was thinner. I could see the faint light of threads starting to wind around his body, and let out a sigh. Maybe this was possible?
[Threads of Fate] - [Debuff] [Stacking] - Reduces the agility of those afflicted
Roquain’s sword came flying at me from the side, only my kinetic vision ability giving me even the chance to react. I saw the attack start, and barely managed to get a barrier up in time. His sword bounced off, and I thrust again, aiming for the center of his body. But he was ready now, and caught my spear on his shield, shoving it off to the side.
We traded blows like that several times, until my mana started to get lower and lower. 30%. 22% 18%. His blows came faster and faster, and I could feel the heat from the sword burning my skin as I managed to stop the most recent attack only inches from my neck.
“You did get a good core, didn’t you? Barrier magic is rare, even more rare than healing magic. I’ll get a good price for you, if you live. Just surrender boy.” Gone was the aristocratic flare, now his voice was gruff, angry, full of hatred and greed. He sounded sorta like rusty coins scraping together. Vile.
“Fuck off!” I shouted, stabbing out again. He laughed as he parried the blow with his sword before taking the hilt in both hands. He started an overhead chop, slamming it down towards my head with far more force than any blow before.
I conjured up another barrier, barely in time. The barrier shattered brilliantly, but the sword kept coming. My eyes went wide as dish saucers as I fell back, trying to get away. But I wasn’t fast enough. The tip of the sword slashed through my body along the front, a burning line of fire carving itself through my thin robes and right into my skin. I screamed and fell back onto my ass, staring up at him. I clutched my spear in my hand as he stepped over me, both hands still on the sword and ready to plunge it down into my heart.
And then Dana stopped chanting. She had finished her spell.
The entire room erupted into chaos.