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Moving like a bolt of lightning, Walter rushed up and swatted Karol aside like a knife that was no longer necessary. He rammed his long scimitar through Cayo’s chest and lifted him off the ground.
Joan’s feet were gone. Obliterated by the disintegrated barriers.
Baldr, meanwhile, had removed Enkidu’s sword from his chest and limped off. Enkidu wasted no time in grabbing it again and charging at Perarde. Stab though he did, the wild man could not penetrate the Hammer of Faith’s perfect defense. Retaliatory strikes from Perarde drew blood, though it showed no signs of stopping Enkidu.
Out of options and his purpose as a force multiplier spent, Enkidu ran off to cover Jelena’s retreat.
“Disgusting animal,” Perarde said through gritted teeth.
One by one, the remaining refugees began to flee.
“Ah. Ha. We got them.” Baldr was down below two hundred HP.
Joan lay on the floor, while Cayo’s corpse slid further down Walter’s sword. With a flourish, Baldr cast something called ‘Coffin of Preservation’ and Walter flicked Cayo against the wall.
“Have you no honor?” asked a brave civilian to Paladin Exemplar Perarde. “To slay your enemy while they are distracted and with grief. Is this the church’s chivalry?”
Perarde pointed his golden sword at the civilian and muttered something.
General Perarde Casts:
Spell:
Quick Holy Smite
Effect:
Deals Stupendous Holy Damage to any target within 30 feet.
Description:
Part of a more combat-oriented Paladin spell suite developed shortly after the formation of the Church.
“This is all I know. All the path to this place taught me. No different than the demons…”
This brave civilian was immolated, utterly disintegrating in a ray of golden light.
What refugees remaining fled for their lives.
“Hey, we missed one.” Baldr nodded in Calaf’s direction. “Walter, skewer that one, will you?”
Walter let out a grunt. “That’s our spy.”
“Ah. Right. I’m so bad with faces. And he has a different name here.” Baldr applied some healing salves to bolster his lagging HP. “You, there. Spy man. Go find and cut off the rest of ‘em. Will you? There’s a barrier around the perimeter, but still, rounding them up makes them easier to dispatch.”
“You could have blocked off the doors,” Walter said.
“Yes, but the chase is so fun.”
Baldr approached Joan’s body. Again, he addressed Calaf:
“Hey, new guy. Hurry it up and…”
Joan’s sword arm was thrust up, catching Baldr on the hand and severing two fingers, alongside a Bronze Ring of Title-Spoofing and a Silver Ring of Level-Spoofing
Baldr’s title changed:
Name:
Baldr’natch, the Desolate One
Rank:
Barriermeister
Level:
96
Status:
480/1039 HP (Missing Finger)
“Damn it.” He snapped, throwing up barriers on Joan’s sword arm and offhand wrist. “Even hovering at ten hit points and going into shock she can still… damn! Ah, a cut clear at the knuckles. They’ll grow back soon enough. At least she didn’t nick the glamour ring.”
“For a Barriermeister you have a lax sense of preservation,” Perarde said, frowning.
“We can’t all play these stupid roles as well as you,” Baldr spat. “Hey, Walt, trade your rings out with me.”
“I have to take this out.” Walter took his sword and ran it through Joan’s shoulder, then began the long, slow process of dragging her outside. “It’s a public-facing role.”
“At least give me the level ring. You barely mask yours!”
“Go find the survivors in the keep and eliminate them all,” Perarde ordered. “None will live to see this… oversight.”
“Oh!” Baldr said all at once. “Did our spy see that? Ah, what’s one patsy disposed of?”
Perarde and Baldr glanced at the divot in the wall where Calaf had been standing. Only, he was long gone.
----------------------------------------
Calaf walked through the halls of Fort Duran in a daze. Everything he’d just witnessed danced through his head. It felt like his body had an electric charge to it as he stumbled, balancing on the wall.
That title. That level. The church hunters were hiding their already prodigious levels. And what name was that? Calaf had ducked out while they were arguing and appeared to have gotten away thus far…
No sooner did Calaf assume this, however, that a wall at his back was disintegrated by a greenish barrier.
“Okay. There’s a barrier out in the woods. You’re not getting far. Just come out, get down on your knees. I’ll off you quick; barrier inside the brainpan. You won’t even notice!”
Baldr – or was it Baldr’natch? – strutted down the hall with characteristic nonchalance. He walked right past Calaf’s hiding place in a drape-covered alcove. Only when the hunter’s footsteps walked out of earshot and into the next room did the Squire dare breathe.
Shortly after emerging from hiding, Calaf heard a quick scream cut short from where Baldr had been headed.
What was Calaf to do? He could hardly stand alone against a level 89 – let alone someone north of level 95! The gulf in power from level to level grew exponentially. If all the church hunters were higher level than they put on, well, the reality of Joan’s feat keeping them at bay for so long grew even more impressive.
Joan. Cayo.
Calaf exhaled sharply, his breath ragged. He refocused. Slowed his breathing until it was somewhere close to its resting rate. It still thumped in his chest, hypersensitive as he was right now.
Another scream.
People in this fort needed his help. Calaf took off in Baldr’s direction, hoping to provide aid in whatever way he could.
Stolen story; please report.
----------------------------------------
There weren’t many people left to save. Refugees were shorn in half, slain with precision barriers to the trachea, and other totalizing, grizzly ends.
A battle broke out in the interior halls soon enough. Surviving reformist knights performed a fighting retreat as they were swiftly outnumbered three-to-one by church loyalist forces. Calaf skirted the action as much as he could, following a trail of bodies with barrier-based wounds over to the keep’s largest tower.
Frightened refugees turned to level up baubles and used them to cast spells or wield weapons well above their rank. Back in the hinterlands this had been seen as power-mad laypeople working themselves up in a frenzy. Now, though, Calaf saw it merely as desperation attacks from outmatched and terrified civilians.
Further away from the battle, the taunts of his foe grew louder:
“C’mon out. I’m quite adept at tracking. And the Brands from the holy bloodline leave a very specific scent.” Baldr’s carefree tone echoed through the halls.
Despite his best instincts, Calaf wasn’t sure who was hunting who. Nevertheless, he stuck to the trail, and found his target soon enough. That cocky, twangy voice was threatening someone…
“Hand over the girl, missy. And I’ll let you go. Promise.”
“Not a chance,” countered a voice that was undoubtedly Jelena’s.
A door was ajar, a bloody handprint indicating the fate of the last poor fool who tried to open it. Calaf peeked inside.
There was Baldr, standing at a ninety-degree angle to the door. And near a stairwell heading upwards to the top of the tower stood Jelena. A short girl in regal drill-tails hid behind the relic thief.
“Not a chance.”
“C’mon.” Baldr threw his shoulders out in a great shrug. “You’re a criminal. A mercenary, yeah? Think about the payday!”
Jelena held her gleaming, jagged daggers in a defensive crouch.
“She’s a child.”
“A child born with the misfortune of being a threat to the holy bloodline. Look, it’ll be over quickly.”
Zilara peered at the hunter from behind Jelena’s waist.
“I know what you are,” the child said.
Now was Calaf’s chance, to leap to the defense of these two distressed maidens and provide them an avenue of escape! He stood zero chance in combat, but maybe he didn’t need to fight the hunter directly in order to set up a bluff.
Calaf swiftly edited his Bronze Ring of Title Spoofing and Silver Ring of Level Spoofing:
Name:
Corvo, Avenging Reformist Paladin
Rank:
Paladin (Squire)
Level
92 (40)
Status:
13036/13036 (120/120)
Weapons:
- Greatspear of Righteous Fury +15
So long as they didn’t come to blows Baldr would never need to see him draw his nonexistent spear, and never notice that he had orders of magnitude less health than otherwise listed. And Baldr was horrible with faces.
“Stop right there, you fiend!” Calaf said, hamming it up as he kicked the door in.
Jelena looked at this new intruder in the room and immediately realized it was Calaf. She subtly chewed on her lips, trying not to laugh.
“Level ninety-two!?” Baldr took two steps back. “That’s higher than Joan. There are maybe two dozen Paladins above level 90 – and I know half of them. Just who the hell are you!?”
“You fiend!” Calaf repeated. “Yes, I challenge you, Baldr’natch! To single combat! Oh desolate one.”
At the mention of his (true?) name, Baldr bristled.
Back near the stairs, Jelena cocked her head. Her eyes darted around as if running through years of memorized church hymns and texts she was a little rusty on.
“Baldr’natch? That’s… Jelena pushed Zilara back against the wall. For the first time since Calaf met her, she appeared frightened. “What… what are… oh, never mind. Enkidu! Get him, buddy!”
Enkidu complied, rushing down the stairs with his nicked, ancient sword drawn.
The pair traded blows in a hurricane of crackling barriers and swinging blades so fast that Calaf couldn’t interject if he tried. All the while, Baldr slowly made his way to a nearby window with some deft footwork.
“If it weren’t for this lapdog of yours.” Baldr looked to Enkidu, then Jelena and Zilara, and then to the surprise level 92 heavy in the room. “This would end a lot differently.
Judging the fight not to be worth it, Balder disintegrated the window with a barrier and leaped out at an impossible distance from the ground.
----------------------------------------
As soon as they had some modicum of safety, Enkidu slammed shut and then barricaded the lone door into the tower.
Everyone, save Enkidu, breathed a sigh of relief. For Enkidu’s part, he was always on alert.
“What was all that about?” Calaf asked.
“That name, is that what his Interface says?” Jelena’s good eye stared at Calaf, wide and alert.
“I saw they were hiding something in their Menus,” Zilara said. “Same as this knight here.”
Calaf took off his rings, operating on his ‘true’ title.
“Well one thing’s for sure,” Jelena began. “Church hunters are hiding something. And if my Missionary lessons were accurate, I have a frightening hypothesis of what…”
The holy child gazed at Calaf, her mood souring.
“If you’re here, and that thing was here.” Zilara’s head drooped. “Then Hoss and…”
“There there.” Jelena knelt and hugged Zilara around the shoulders. “We’re getting you out of here. A promise is a promise.”
While she was a thief, her sense of honor seemed peerless even compared to Paladins. Calaf smiled. The young heir was in good hands.
But Jelena turned and looked at Calaf with a fierce, accusatory glare in her eye.
“Calaf, this is a child. If the church catches her, they’re going to…” she scowled. “Let us go. You and I have a history, clearly. And something isn’t what it seems. I know you’re about to go on about honor or something but… there’s something serious afoot in the church, now.”
“I don’t… this isn’t…” Calaf stammered.
Zilara stared from behind Jelena. “You are wearing their Menu designation.”
“I.. I..”
Footsteps were coming up the stairs. Soon they would be pounding on the door. Breaking in.
“I can dispatch this group,” Enkidu said offhandedly. “But if they’re storming the tallest tower, it likely means the rest of the Fort has fallen. Or will soon.”
‘We should go,’ went unsaid.
Calaf turned to Jelena. “Go. I’ll escort you to whatever escape route you have planned.”
The relic thief’s face lit up. “Calaf. I… Thanks.”
----------------------------------------
They made it halfway up the tower when they encountered a familiar face.
Jelena and another unbranded figure collided with each other on the stairs. A figure with scalp-short red hair cartwheeled into a stairway alcove.
“Karol?” Calaf rushed to her side. “Is that you?”
The former crimson mage looked to Calaf, then Jelena. Her head swayed about and her eyes were unnaturally wide.
“I was going to jump,” she said. “My mission is complete. But… I couldn’t. Instead, I’m going to…”
Karol held out some strange berries in her hand.
Item: Wild Riverglen Nihilberries
Description: Berries from the barren areas far south of Riverglen. So poisonous that they render a target’s body incapable of being consecrated
“Where did you get this?”
“She said once my mission was done I could end it. Be together with my brother in annihilation.”
Karol went to try and eat the berries. Calaf quickly leaped in her way.
“There’s no…” he tried wrestling the berries out of her hand. “Way for me to loot something in somebody else’s hand like this. Jelena, stop her!”
With a swift kick, Jelena swatted the berries away. Sobbing, Karol pushed Calaf away and ran down the stairs.
“Damnit,” Calaf said. “I… I should go after her.”
Sounds of the advancing army were heard from downstairs. There would be no time to pursue. At least not yet.
“Getting you out of here comes first,” he told Jelena.
The pair rushed up the stairs, each with a hand in Zilara’s, urging her onward.
----------------------------------------
The trio closed every door they encountered in the tower on their way to the rooftop. Atop the highest point of the fortress, they received a perfect view of the desolation that had come to Fort Duran, as well as the earliest pale-purple discoloration of dawn in the East.
Jelena’s coveted escape route happened to be an extended rope gliding down to a birch well away from the outer perimeter. It was still dark enough that three figures could slide down and make a run for it into the forest.
“We led as many people as we could up here,” Jelena said. “Everyone else has already made the descent. I think a few more tried fleeing out the Eastern gate. Hopefully, someone made it.”
“Hopefully.” Calaf nodded.
Enkidu went first, with Zilara riding on his back. He used his sword as a brace to zip along the rope.
“Go,” Calaf implored Jelena. “I’ll misdirect them.”
“Lying.” Jelena smiled. “That’s unbecoming a Paladin, surely.”
Before he could say anything, Jelena leaned in and kissed him. So taken aback was Calaf that his lips could hardly react. Still, she pressed hers against his all the same.
“Thank you,” Jelena said.
Then, when Calaf didn’t say anything more:
“Relax, handsome.” Her lips angled upward. “If I initiate, it doesn’t have any effect on your vows or Menu designation or titles.”
Calaf stared at her as the first light of dawn peaked over the ramparts. If they weren’t standing above a massacre site, he’d gladly ruin all titles and forsake all vows to join her.
“I’m already a relic thief. What’s it matter if I steal a kiss too?” Jelena winked her good eye.
“Go on,” he said, composing himself. “Ahem. Go. I’ll misdirect the others.”
“Not what chivalry would dictate but still. That’s honorable of you.” Jelena turned to the rope. “As for your fiancé, uh, have fun? I guess? I’ll try not to crash the wedding.”
“Charlotte.” Calaf rasped. “I’ll need to get back to Riverglen. Karol said…”
But Calaf couldn’t finish the sentence.
With a knowing nod, Jelena turned and used a spare bit of leather from her bodice to zip down the rope.
----------------------------------------
Calaf noticed some rubble at the top of the tower. He picked it up…
Item: Rampart Rubble (x5)
Description: Essential material used to elevate one’s rank from Squire to Paladin. Requires level 65.
If he kept ahold of this until he reached the proper level, Calaf’s path to Paladin would already be assured.
Nevertheless, Calaf selected the item and chose ‘discard,’ sending it falling off the tallest tower. He didn’t deserve it.
Shortly thereafter, a party of heavily armed, high-level Paladins ascended the stairs. Before they reached the top and after Calaf saw Jelena come to a stop deep in the woods, he took his auxiliary knife and cut the rope.
“This tower is cleared,” he reported. “Some tried to escape through the basement dungeons. After them!”
The ruse stuck. Soon multiple parties were descending on the dungeons. Calaf approached an amenable-looking knight on his way down the tower.
“Did you see a woman with a Scoured Brand? With short, red hair?”
The knight shrugged. “Without a brand, I wouldn’t have occasion to recall anyone's name!”
Calaf grimaced.
“At the very least, everyone else in this tower was dead before we got here,” the knight concluded, then made for the dungeons.
What more could be done? She no doubt had a trail that could be followed. But in the chaos that followed the battle of Fort Duran, how was he supposed to track her?”
Once more, Calaf looked at these poisonous berries Karol had been provided. She’d been sent here with a purpose, through the portal. Only because he’d called in and confirmed the location of that portal from the Battletower basement. Calaf chewed his cheek guiltily.
And who would’ve tasked Karol with this assassination mission? Scoured her Brand to ensure she wasn’t hampered by any level deltas. Tell her it was the only way to be of use to the church now that her reunion with her brother in the promised hereafter was no longer possible.
Calaf’s grip on the berries tightened. He put them back in his Inventory before he wound up with a hand full of poisoned juice.
----------------------------------------