Arrival VII
A couple of hours later, when we were well into our third game – Leris cleared us all out in the first two – Verrick slipped back into the room. We, including the Emperor who'd joined us during the second game, all turned to see what he had to report this time.
“Good news,” he said, a smile crossing his weary features. “I made contact with a small contingent of Watchtower Guards, they've been clearing the Palace of invaders for the last few hours, though unfortunately, they entered on the opposite side of the Palace from us. As such there are still plenty of enemies between us and them. I'd normally suggest waiting for them to finish removing the intruders, but with their counter-attack, I've noticed the number of enemies using the secret passages has increased, no doubt using them to flee.
“This includes the remaining Crimson Edgedancers, I worry that their top fighters would be able to discover our hideaway if they passed through the tunnel outside.”
He'd ensured everyone was awakened before giving us a report, waiting long enough to brew everyone a cup of coffee from the remaining unspoiled beans. I'd taken one in the hopes that [Status Quo] wouldn't activate this time, or at least, not so soon.
All of us – excepting the still delirious one-legged guard – were sitting around the rickety table in the centre of the room. Looking like a low-budget version of the knights of the roundtable. Though I suspected even the most budget-conscious Hollywood producers would be able to cough up something better than this. The – currently shifted into a nun's habit – Garb eschewed all things nasty, blood and guts sliding off it almost before it landed. No one else was so fortunate, however. Even Freylder, they only one of us who'd bothered to clean her armour, was still covered in dried blood and other bodily fluids.
Thankfully, I'd long since grown accustomed to our collective stenches.
“So,” Fenrick said, following on from Verricks trail of thought after he realised he'd finished his report. “You're suggesting we need to break through their lines, so we can return to our allies sooner?”
“Is that wise?” Sarian chimed in, “We've remained hidden here for almost eight hours now, and we only found this place when Geral fell asleep standing up and slumped against the hidden catch...”
“I weren't asleep! Was just resting... my eyes... is...all...” We all stared at him as he said this, and his denial grew less vehement as he trailed off.
“Right,” Verrick said, glossing over the gnome's continued grumbling. “And that only proves my point, if a sleeping gnome could find this room without access to any combat Classes then our undetected state can only be attributed to luck, rather than the failing, ancient enchantments hiding this room.”
Considering my luck – now -499 after my leveling – I half expected the invaders to burst through the door at that ominous statement.
When they didn't I feared what the System had in store for us instead.
“If you managed to contact our allies on the other side of the Palace, surely we could also reach them without needing to do any breaking through?” I asked, almost wishing that we couldn't. I was looking forward to stabbing my latest spear into some heads after all.
“For myself, yes Empress. My Abilities, if not my Mana or Stamina, have almost all returned to me. But I was always better fighting alone than in a group. The only reason I got through was due to my [Shadow-Walk] Ability. I could take one other with me for a short hop, but even if I was at full capacity I couldn't manage the whole group before someone noticed us.”
“And my [Flash-Step] Ability is unable to bring anyone else at all, and its cost is much higher at my current level,” Fenrick added.
“So it's back to our previous flight, sneaking around them when we can, and fighting when we can't.”
“That's right, Sire. Though with us all rested and our seals almost fully removed it should be somewhat easier, especially with a goal in mind.”
I'd asked the Emperor about the seals the High Dukes had worn in the Ceremony, during one of our rest stops before finding our current abode.
He'd explained that almost a decade ago, Verrick's predecessor of the High Dukedom of Craddock, had betrayed his father at a similar ceremony. Using banned Soul Magics he'd struck the Emperor and his wife in an attempted coup, killing the Empress immediately. The Emperor, through a combination of his personal Abilities, rare magic items and the tireless work of his personal healers, had survived the attempt.
Once recovered, and upon finding out what happened to his wife, he'd struck back. Wiping out the man's family line, even distant cousins hadn't escaped his wrath. It'd taken him almost a year to raze all their properties to the ground, and search down the last of his bloodline. During that time he had the sealing rings crafted, so such an accident could never occur again.
It had been too little too late, however. The Soul Magic proved to be too much for his Abilities, items and healers – even after promising an outrageous reward to anyone outside his domain who could heal him – and he passed away almost five years later, hanging on until the last moment possible, the Magic wasting away his body, and finally, his mind.
Of course, he'd also explained that there was a way to remove the seals without causing such drastic side-effects. Unfortunately, the item to do so was locked in a vault on the other side of the Palace, lest one of the High Dukes gets hold of it. Ripping it off them had been a last-ditch measure they'd all enacted, as trying to flee with all their powers sealed would have been impossible.
It had almost proved to be too much anyway.
“What about Alfred?” Deliza asked, obviously worried about her companion. “Is it safe to move him?”
“Even if it's not, I'm afraid we'll have to take him with us. It is far too risky to leave him here, especially in his condition.” Sarian answered after it appeared no one else wanted to answer the distraught guard.
“Don't worry my dear, once the Palace is cleared I'll personally ensure he gets top priority with the healers.” His assurances helped alleviate her worries a bit, and she perked up. Ready to do her duty in the fights to come.
“Aye,” Geral added, “me n' Leris will carry 'im. We're not much good in this situation, else.”
“Speak for yourself, gnome!” Leris said, archly. Clearly referencing her [Weak-Heal]. She sidled up next to the still unconscious guard anyway.
The matter at hand settled, Verrick took control of the conversation once more. Ensuring we all knew our roles in the coming flight, and wherein the formation we'd be.
Verrick would, of course, be scouting the way ahead and fighting any of the trickier opponents we'd encounter. Freylder and Deliza would be leading the rest of the group, trading off the front position as necessary, or fighting side-by-side if the passage opened up. I was third in line, wielding my latest acquisition; an almost 8-foot long spear, that I figured I wouldn't have been able to wield back on Earth. My new capabilities ever more obvious as the days passed. I'd pretty much accepted this was real by now. The people surrounding me acted like no computer generated characters I'd ever seen.
Spears, along with the lovely sound they made when thrust into a skull, also allowed me to do it at a distance. I'd discovered that keeping those who deemed me harm as far away from my vulnerable self as possible – while still being able to strike them – did wonders for my health.
Leris and Geral would be taking up positions in the centre, supporting the one-legged guard as best they could.
Fenrick would act as our rear-guard, his sensory capabilities granting him the ability to sense anyone trying to sneak up on us. Sarian would be directly in front of him. His various defensive and offensive Spells would allow him to back Fenrick up directly if required, he could also cast the defensive ones around the vanguard, his Lightning Spells a bit too dangerous to cast over our heads for him to assist them in that capacity.
His position also meant he was closest to the Emperor, putting him in range of his more powerful [Wardcrafter] Abilities. Much to Terrius's continued consternation.
In this manner, we progressed into the tunnels, Verrick reporting back to us every five minutes, one time after dealing with an enemy patrol.
The tunnels were dimly lit by some softly glowing lichen, giving off enough light that I could only see perhaps 10 feet past the group on either side, despite my slightly-improved eyesight.
It was almost half an hour after we'd left our hidey-hole. A tense half hour, all of us on high alert in these creepy tunnels, the slightest noise causing us to jump and freeze in place, ears perked, eyes straining in the dark, anticipating an enemy ambush. Our breathing harsh and heartbeats pulsing, as we waited. Until inevitably we'd have no choice but to continue onwards.
Waiting for an attack that may not even be approaching would not see us to safety.
We'd discussed moving into the wider hallways of the Palace, as Verrick had not noticed as many invaders as before out there. However, after some thought, we'd decided that while it'd allow us to move quicker, the wider halls would allow any large groups to surround us. If perhaps everyone had had a combat Class, or if the seals had completely fallen away, then perhaps it would have been a more tantalising option. As it was we could only continue our slow progress through the cramped passages.
When the first attack arrived, it came with little notice. A cry of warning echoing down the passages from Verrick mere seconds before a group of Ashbringers stepped out from an adjoining hall just a few paces ahead, already charging toward us.
Six members of the opposing force crashed into Deliza, the Imperial Guard who was currently taking a turn leading our formation. They pushed her back a few paces with built-up momentum before her heels dug in and their forward progression was halted. Freylder gripped the back of her amour and was forced to one knee as the two woman attempted to hold back three times their number.
In an attempt to alleviate the pressure, I shifted the grip on my weapon to an overhand grip and thrust it into their ranks. I aimed for the lead Ashbringer's open-faced helm, one of the few weak points I could reach from my position, unfortunately, he saw the spear point moments before it struck, his head wrenching to the side in his dodge.
Aww, no squelchy.
His companion behind was less fortunate, however. The man in front blocking his view of the oncoming spear until it was far too late, he'd barely had time to take in the sight of the man's head disappearing from his view before my spear point pierced straight through the base of his neck. A fatal injury he wouldn't have time to regenerate from.
With his death, their push paused momentarily, as they removed his body from their line, so they could resume pushing forward without the obstacle getting in their way.
Deliza and Freylder used their respite wisely, shuffling forward a couple of steps and resetting themselves in a better stance, to allow them to fend off the Ashbringers greater numbers easier.
An arrow, covered in crackling lightning thumped into my chest, right above my heart. Thankfully [Seraloai's Ceremonial Garb] blocked the intrusive magic before it could gain a purchase and electrocute me. The material itself also stopped the piercing power of the arrow, its Magics denying any attempt to damage the Garb by any means.
It didn't stop the kinetic force of the arrow, however. The punch of the arrowhead sending me spinning and crashing into one of the walls.
Thankfully my regeneration, boosted beyond all reason by my Trait, kicked into full power, my insane recovery rate already healing the blunt force trauma as I clambered back to my feet. The bruise fading so quickly that it almost seemed time had been reversed in that area. I grunted through the pain, and turned to Sarian, wondering why he hadn't managed to block the [Archer]s magical strike with one of his Wards.
He was distracted, however, with an equal number of Ashbringers that had managed to circle behind us, and the Magic-user that stood directing them, who sent blasts of Magic-infused sonic waves at the straining barriers of the still recovering [Wardcrafter], forcing Sarian to focus entirely on protecting the Emperor behind him. Fenrick was left to fight his half-dozen opponents on his own.
I turned back to my own fight, trusting Fenrick and Sarian to guard our rear until we could deal with our current opponents and turn back to assist them.
The [Archer] at the rear of the attackers was firing Magically infused arrows as fast as he could draw his bow, each strike now weaker as he didn't take the time to charge them. Now that my allies were aware of his attacks, however, Deliza was able to block or deflect most of his attacks., and I was able to dodge the remainder. How much longer she could do that, with our opponents readying their next charge, I wasn't sure. Not until I noticed Freylder's actions anyway.
The buxom dwarf was crouched down, an Imperial Guard's kite shield held in front of her, blocking her from our enemies view. A faint green glow was emanating from her, as she readied an ability I'd already witnessed numerous times in the last couple of days.
Deliza jumped out of the way in a well-coordinated manoeuvre, as the dwarf activated her [Shield-Charge] Ability. Yelling incomprehensibly as she bowled down the recently reformed ranks of the Ashbringers. Dealing them countless blunt force injuries as she trampled over their bodies, and knocked them into the walls in her countercharge.
I rushed forward with Deliza, the two of us finishing off the dazed bodies Freylder had left in her wake.
One man at the back of their group had seen what was coming towards him and had managed to flee. Turning and lifting his shield a few paces in front of the [Archer]. An arrowing flashing by me and skittering off the walls reminded us of his presence, Deliza lifting her shield to protect us once more.
“Keep close, Empress,” she grunted. Voice harsh, as her lungs strained to draw in oxygen to fuel her frantic defensive efforts. “Freylder should be able to deal with those two herself.”
“What about the men behind us? Shouldn't we go back now and assist them-”
“Trust in your father, Empress.” She interrupted, “he will hold them off long enough for us to take out these pieces of trash.”
Indeed, during our short exchange, Freylder had already disarmed her opponent of his shield, apparently by dropping her weapon and yanking the shield out of his grasp. As I watched she mercilessly bashed his face in with her gauntleted hand. I shivered, remembering I'd recently been flirting with the blood-soaked dwarven terror, though if it was out of fear or something else I couldn't say.
The [Archer] ran in the face of such brutality, a decision that he'd come to far too late. Freylder picked up the broken half of one of the Ashbringer's spears and threw it into his retreating body. Whether by luck or skill, the spear penetrated the back of his helm, thrusting through a small crack in the metal and piecing the brain within. I let out an unconscious moan at the noise.
“What was that Empress?” Deliza asked, breathily.
“What was what?” I responded, far too sharply. “Shouldn't we go back and help the others now?” I continued, voice calmed slightly as I changed the subject. Getting excited at such a noise was decidedly not normal after all.
She grunted in acquiescence but her questing gaze clearly meant her acceptance of the subject change was only grudging.
Should a guard really be so brazen with her Empress!?
She was unable to read my facial cues, however, thanks to the currently compliant Garb. A Garb that still disguised my true visage from these people. [26:11:09]. Almost 48 hours wearing this thing and those closest to the dead Duchess I was impersonating were none the wiser. Including her own father.
My [Disguise] Skill itself had stopped leveling after reaching the Novice rank. Apparently, my artefact level cheating was no longer paying dividends.
I now had just over 24 hours to concoct my own escape plan. My current thoughts were along the lines of finding a change of clothes and just walking out. I hoped that I would be able to find my way out in the confusion, and if caught I could just explain I'd been transported here by some Imp during the attack and had no idea what was going on.
A state of affairs that was uncomfortably close to the truth.
Shaking off my thoughts, I followed Deliza in barging past the angst-riddled Emperor, so we could assist the flagging [Monk] and the ailing [Wardcrafter], who was still far from recovered.
I threw my spear at the Magic-user standing at the rear, hoping to catch him off guard and free up the high elf to use more offensive Spells. Unfortunately, along with many other things the – currently a swan-dress – Garb denied me from learning any new Skills. [Disguise] being the only one that had worked so far, and [Inspect] was only effective when used on the Garb itself.
I assumed it was the Garb anyway, I could have just been crap at everything I'd attempted thus far. I sorely hoped not, however.
In any case, my lack of any throwing or spear related Skills, coupled with my horrible luck meant that not only did I miss the spell thrower by a wide margin, I almost hit Fenrick, who, now that Deliza had picked up the defensive duties, had thrown himself into the fray, sowing confusion in their ranks, as he used his various Abilities to flip and roll off the floor, walls and ceiling.
He was in the middle of an impressive mid-air spinning kick thingy when he noticed the askew flight path of my spear. In a feat of impressive aerial acrobatics, he arched his back into an inverted 'U' shape – wait, isn't that simply an 'n'? - causing the spear to fly past, mere millimetres from his skin. The spear flashed by him and smacked into an axe-wielder who'd been about to swing her weapon at him. The force of my throw sent her flying as it smacked into her breastplate. It did not penetrate her defences though. The point of the spear long since dulled through my unskilled use.
“You're welcome!” I shouted cheerfully at a scowling and grumbling Fenrick. Pretending that I'd intentionally hit his assailant. Thankfully he was either too wise or too busy to question his Empress's aim.
I cast about for another weapon, finding only sub-par options – not a squelch-stick in sight! - I sighed and picked up a likely looking axe, that glowed red in obvious enchantment.
I hefted it in my hands and stepped up to join Deliza, who, after giving me an odd look, carefully angled herself so I couldn't accidentally hit her.
I wanted to deny her obvious unspoken accusation, but considering that it was unspoken, I felt speaking about it would only draw attentions to areas of my character that I'd prefer to remain as the odd strange glance, or whisper. Rather than outright questioning. I knew nothing about the Duchess I was supposed to be after all.
Barely a minute later our reinforcement of the rear-guard bore fruit. With Fenrick's continued distractions, Deliza and I cut a swathe through their lines.
Okay, maybe it was mostly Deliza. Though I did manage to use my axe a few times.
Those scratch marks on the back of her armour? Well, I only caused one of them... okay, okay it was two of them but they were only glancing blows! Promise!
Her glare didn't diminish in the slightest in the face of my denials, but she shook it off in the face of our continued opposition, the [Sonic Mage] we were facing and our [Wardcrafter] were engaged in a furious battle of Spell and Counter-Spell.
Our party had hunkered down behind the overlapping shields of Deliza and Freylder as they two magic-users faced off.
Fenrick had run down the passage behind, searching for the bow and arrows the enemy [Archer] had dropped, so he could make use of his second combat Class and assist the beleaguered High Duke.
Before he returned with the weapons, however, a chill-inducing 'snick' cut through the sounds of spell-casting, followed by a deathly silence within the hidden passages, as we all held our breaths.
“I leave you guys alone for just a few minutes and look what happens to you!” Verrick said, in mock consternation, as he approached. Gliding past the ravaged bodies of the Ashbringers as if the uneven and slick footing wasn't something he needed to worry about.
I soon realised he was actually floating above the dead, carried on the shadows he so effortlessly controlled.
The pitter-patter of running feet echoed down the tunnel towards us, announcing Fenrick's late arrival. Something he didn't seem too perturbed by, as he simply dropped his newly acquired bow and collapsed against the uneven wall.
“How did they sneak by you? We barely heard your warning before they reached us!” Sarian accused wearily, as he stumbled towards the [Shadowdancer].
“Sorry about that,” he flashed a sudden grin, the expression briefly lightening up his downtrodden appearance. “But I ranged a bit further afield this time as I felt the presence of someone I recognised!”
He paused there, clearly expecting some kind of response, perhaps a 'well-done chap' or 'who was it' or even a 'go on'. If this was the case, he was met only with disappointment, as we all simply stared at him, waiting for him to finish his report. Causing him to let out a small sigh, before continuing.
“Fine, fine. It was an Imperial Guard Captain from the Watchtower division. I recognised him from our adventuring days. I was about to approach when I realised I'd strayed further than intended and sensed you were about to come under attack.
“I sent a warning through the shadows and quickly ambushed their strongest member. Being a [Rogue] of some kind himself, he dodged my initial strike and it took until now for me to finish him.”
I left the others to question Verrick further, and engaged in the time honoured tradition, apparent in battlefields everywhere. Namely, looting the bodies of the dead!
Free stuff! Oh, spear! Where art thou?
A grinning and blood-spattered Freylder joined me in my search, and I figured I wasn't the only deranged member of our little group.
Considering the small and practically useless [Inventory] I had, which at my current level of 4 was just five squares worth, I couldn't fit much inside. As far as my limited experimenting could tell, items didn't stack either. That or I had only found unique items to test it with.
I had already squirrelled away a couple of the shiniest coins I could find during our earlier fights, now I added a spare spear which used up two slots, and Freylder passed me an interesting hook-bladed knife to take up the last slot.
I also found a replacement for my last spear, though this one was more of a halberd, with an axe-like blade on one side, and a backward facing hook on the other. It was of a similar length, around 8 feet. Which meant, like the other one, I had to be constantly careful about scraping the tip along the ceiling. Perhaps the reason why my last spear had been so dull.
Taking a break from the looting, I glanced through the windows that I'd set up to be auto-minimised during the fighting and discovered I had enough EXP to level up. Seeing no reason to delay, I swiftly stabbed the level-up button.
Your Elf (Planar) Class has increased to: Level 5!
You gain 6 Free Attribute Points and +1 Resistance, Willpower, Vitality and Luck.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
You receive one additional inventory space!
I had hoped I'd get access to some additional stuff at level 5, but it appeared that the earlier descriptions had told the tale in full, I'd have to wait until I reached 10 for my goodies. I now had 24 Free Points, but I left them alone as I still had no idea where to spend them.
Once we had finished looting the bodies of anything interesting, and we'd rested as best we could. We made our way to where Verrick had spotted his old friend, the [Shadowdancer] now leading us, rather than scouting ahead.
We came across two separate groups of Ashbringer's, as they scurried through the secret passages, now looking to escape the Palace as the Watchtower Guards cleansed the halls of their presence.
With us doing the ambushing, the fighting went far smoother. Verrick would begin by manipulating the shadows. The dark tendrils reaching out at his command, plunging them into darkness, the shadows pushing the slight glow of the lichen-covered walls away from the area they were in.
The shadows Verrick used not only darkened their sights but dampened all their senses. He mentioned it was akin to suddenly being dropped to the bottom of a deep lake or sea, you'd be unable to see so far down, your sense of touch and sound distorted by the crushing pressure of the water.
Cut off from friend and foe alike, the invaders suddenly found themselves under attack by people who danced past them, people who were unaffected by the foul presence and sense-depriving distortion they were under, barely felt or noticed as they took their last breaths from them.
I was disallowed from partaking in the felling. The others all agreeing 'The Empress' had no reason to be risking herself unnecessarily. So I stood next to my 'husband' both of us barely holding ourselves back from joining the fray, held back only by the disapproving glares of my 'father', Sarian.
We, of course, were unaffected by the sense-depriving effect because we had joined Verricks Party, 'The Handsome Devils'. My scowling at his choice of names had deterred him not at all – perhaps because he'd been unable to see my scowling?.
Being part of a Party, I'd found, would allow people to extend Buffing Spells much easier, and perhaps more importantly, to exempt Party members from AoE Debuffs. It did nothing for damaging Spells, Abilities, or physical attacks, however.
Much to my disappointment, there was no Party chat of any kind. And any and all loot sharing options were restricted to Dungeons, there was also no hide nor hair of any mini-map options for me, something I knew that Verrick had access to, so I knew it was possible. EXP however, could be shared at the Party Leader's discretion. Verrick had opted to leave it at default, as we were focusing on fighting our way through an encirclement, not on EXP grinding.
Some thirty minutes later we finally left the secret passages for the first time since entering them just after leaving the Throne Room.
It was an eerie experience, almost like stepping into another world – maybe not quite like that, actually, but close enough – in comparison to the dimly lit passages we left, our new surroundings were filled with light, magical sconce's dotting the corner of ceiling and wall all along the wide-open hallway.
The walls were filled with the same grandiose art I'd seen before, tapestries, murals, and paintings lined the walls of the hall, the beautiful artwork acting in strange dichotomy to the dried and drying blood that covered the walls and floor in some areas. In chilling realisation, I noticed there wasn't any of the bodies that produced the blood in sight.
I hoped they'd simply been carried away, rather than one of the other of the terrifying prospects I considered.
“Come,” Verrick commanded, not giving us time to readjust or to become complacent. “If anyone has been waiting to ambush us, now is the time for them to do it. Stay vigilant. Captain Carras should be just down this way.” He nodded down the hall to the right of our exit, and putting action to words, he strode down the hall, once more gliding above the bloodied floor, the rest of us forced to trudge through it.
We all variously skipped, tripped or jumped forward at his words - I managed a strange combination of the three, thanks to the latest machinations of my Garb.
Turning left at the next junction, I tensed, seeing another contingent of the invaders marching towards us, a grey-haired human in full plate and a purple half-cloak leading them.
Verrick's greeting caused us all to let out sighs of relief, however.
“Carras, ye old bastard, you're a sight for sore eyes!” His voice was filled with the relief we all felt, as he stepped forward to exchange a quick hug with his old adventuring buddy.
“Verrick! As I live and breathe!” The man, who was obviously Carras exclaimed. “You look terrible! How are you? I half expected to find you all dead.”
“I feel dead old friend, it's been a trying few days, but we are all still alive and kicking.” He turned and gestured to the rest of us at this, the Emperor stepping forward to greet his Guard Captain as he did so.
“Captain, report. How goes the defence of the palace?” The Emperor ordered, disregarding any pleasantries.
“Emperor! Forgive me, I did not spot you there.” He responded, dropping into an elaborate bow, made even more impressive by his full plate armour. The score of his men behind him all bent over in a more perfunctory bow. “The fighting goes well, we began our counterstrike almost six hours ago, the Watchtower and the City Guard acting in tandem to pincer the invaders and cut off any avenue of escape. That was the plan at least, unfortunately, they'd anticipated such an action and had stationed one of their legions outside the Palace entrance, and drew the City Guards into a fight before they managed to enter the Palace.
“We couldn't afford to delay any longer, however. The Watchtower forces have worked tirelessly to clear your abode of your enemies, Sire. There are only a few isolated packets still fighting, most attempting to flee. A tricky proposition, as all the exits were magically sealed, barring the points of entry for us and the City Guard, none would make the mistake of assaulting the Watchtower of course, and most will be unable to make it through the fighting at the front gates.”
“Very good Captain. Consider you and your men detached under Our leadership until further notice. Lead us to the nearest safe room.” The Emperor's youth apparent in his tenor, as he understandably ordered the newcomers to take him to safety.
“Of course Sire,” Carras said with a quick affirming glance to Verrick, unnoticed by Terrius. “Please, follow me.”
The new guards flanked our Party fore and aft. The Watchtower Guards all wore better-looking equipment, though still similar to the normal Guards I'd seen before. The symbol on their chest also had an addition, a large spire and the usual sword flanked the Griffon on either side.
The other members of the Party – I am not using that stupid name – were all walking lighter, spirits lifted by our new Guards, the end in sight.
I was not, I was getting a worrying feeling that these new Guards wouldn't be letting their 'Empress' out of their sight. I figured the attack by these 'Ashbringers' would make them a tad overprotective for a while, hopefully, I could find a way to escape their notice in about 24 hours, otherwise I'd be screwed, and not in a good way.
Captain Carras lead us down yet more unending hallways, I soon noticed that, in agreement with my earlier thoughts, I was barely taking in the artwork that lined the walls. The fantastic depictions had gained yet another uncaring purveyor. I felt a little sad at this realisation, but I was far too worried about my predicament to truly care.
A few minutes and a dozen turns later we arrived in front of a well-guarded set of double doors. A safe room the Watchtower Guards had set up a command post in, one of the doors was open and I could see the hustle and bustle of those inside, as they made and enacted their plans to bring the Palace back under Imperial control.
The Guards that had brought us here parted in front of us, letting our Party through, and then reformed along the walls with the Guards who had brought up the rear.
The Captain stuttered and stumbled just before we entered the safe room, falling into the Emperor, blood dripping from his eyes and ears, “My... lie... tr..a..” he broke off, coughing up huge goblets of blood.
“Everyone back!” Verrick screamed, causing us to spin around to flee. After taking just two steps back the way we came, I halted. The Guards who had escorted here had formed into ranks, five wide and four deep and were now blocking our only way out.
As we watched their impressive armour, faded and shimmered, the symbol on their chests losing the tower as their appearance reverted to the ill-fitting Imperial Guard armour they had stolen.
“Colloc,” Verrick growled, as a grey-haired man walked out of the room behind us, “you shouldn't have shown yourself so easily cur. I will not hesitate to end you this day.”
The man, obviously Colloc, the leader of the Adventurers Guild – the Crimson Edgedancers - leading this attack Verrick had mentioned earlier, only snorted at this. “Verrick, Verrick, Verrick,” he tsked, shaking his head, “you have grown complacent in your old age. The man I fought beside on the Fields of Antror would never have been taken in by such a simple ruse. Still, I guess I shouldn't complain, your complacency will allow me to finally finish this.”
Verrick ignored the insult, “Colloc, the man I fought beside on the Fields of Antror, was fighting against the Ashen Regiment, not with them! What happened?”
Colloc shrugged, the motion showing his disdain for the [Shadowdancer]. “They offered me more money.”
“That's it? You loyalties were so easily bought? Is that how they escaped destruction on that day? Did you and your illusions hide their escape?”
Colloc frowned at this, seemingly offended by the question, “not at all, Verrick. I would never betray a contact, they came to me only recently, asking for my assistance in this. Even then I was hesitant but in the end, they offered me a deal I couldn't refuse. I don't know how they fled on that day, I was confident they were utterly defeated until they contacted to me.”
“I guess it does not matter now,” Verrick said, drawing a short sword he'd re-appropriated from one of his fallen foes. “Let's get this over with.”
Colloc laughed at his threat, “old man, haven't you realised yet? It is already over with. You are just too stubborn to have accepted it yet. Your young Emperor will die on this day.”
Verrick lunger forward as shadow wrapped around his body, cutting straight through Colloc, parting the half-elf in two.
Wisps of smoke rose off the two ends of the body as the illusion unravelled.
Verrick's attack broke the stalemate, the Ashbringers behind marched forwards, as more charged at us from the 'safe room' behind.
… Maybe I need to worry less about escaping later, and more about surviving now...
Verrick's shadows swirled around us, plunging the hallway into darkness. It was an odd experience, being able to see through his shadows. It was like watching the night vision on the CCTV cameras at my old place of work. Everything was a shade of grey.
Our opponents were barely affected by his shadows this time, after an initial few seconds of confusion, where they all ground to a halt, small runes of yellow-glowing magic grew around their eyes. They marched forward once again.
We hadn't been idle during those few seconds, however. We'd planted ourselves in the corner to the left of the doors, our backs to the wall behind. Fenrick, Freylder and Deliza stood out in front, a couple of paces apart. There being too many of us to hide behind the two shield-users, they'd instead opted for a more open formation, giving them more freedom to swing their blades and bodies.
A formation I figured, that would be completely ineffective if Sarian wasn't available, forming Wards and Barriers to create a double layer of protection around us, forcing the Ashbringers to attack through the channels he created, channels that led straight to our defenders.
I passed my spare spear to the Emperor, as we set ourselves up behind them, ready to strike past them, to help hold off the tide. Leris and Geral crouched at the back, over the ever-weakening form of Alfred, his breathing ragged as he clutched to the last shreds of his life, slowly passing away despite Leris's attempts to keep him alive.
Verrick had disappeared, rushing into the room to confront the [Illusionist].
The attackers approached warily, keeping careful eyes on the Barriers around them, their mages at the back preparing Spells to bring them down.
As the first Ashbringers reached us, the three in front of me unleashed the Abilities they'd been charging up during the approach.
Deliza stomped her right foot forward, her Longsword glowing red as she slashed the air in front of her, the red glow flying off her blade, cutting through her opponents with ease. The three slashes travelled through four of the men in front of her, before one of the mages' hastily cast Spell diverted the strikes into the ceiling. Deliza reset herself with her shield angled in front once more, her blade held behind as her feet and lower legs starting glowing green, in preparation for another of her [Swordsman] Abilities.
Fenrick left behind bright after images, that managed to cut through the shadows briefly, causing me to wince every time he [Flash-Step]ped. He'd activated an Ability that allowed him to use multiple [Flash-Step]s back to back, he flashed through their ranks, each appearance accompanied by an elbow to an unprotected throat. He disabled close to a dozen before his last [Flash-Step] brought him back to his starting position, waiting for more opponents.
Freylder, of course, activated the [Shield-Charge] Ability I'd already seen. Her body glowing a faint green as she barrelled through the men and women in front of her, once her charge was over she dashed back to her starting position, axe spinning and chopping through the broken bodies as she finished off those that hadn't died in the initial charge. I covered her retreat by thrusting my halberd at a man who'd followed a little too closely on her heels for my liking, the point halting his run forward. Unfortunately for him, his armoured boots slid on the blood-slicked floor as he tried to stop his forward momentum, causing my weapon to enter through the bottom of his jaw as he slipped over, legs flying forward as he tried to bend over backwards out of the way.
The thrill of battle surged through me as I removed the spearhead with a 'shuck' and backed away, waiting to assist my companions as needed.
And so the battle continued the hallway ahead of us a sea of helmeted Ashbringers trying to break through our defences.
Our three fighters grew ever more weary as they beat off assailant after assailant, various wounds covering their bodies as the occasional strike or Spell got through their defences, the countless injuries too much for their regeneration and the few [Weak-Heal]s Leris could manage.
Still, they fought back, their higher levels telling as they felled countless assailants in the almost endless stream of men. Too, was their defending their Emperor telling, allowing them to shrug off attacks that should have finished them, just managed to dodge or deflect the blows at the last moment.
A few minutes into the fight, the three on the front line struggling to hold back the tide, a shout from Terrius gave them renewed hope. That tall orc able to see over their ranks, and he saw the last rank of Ashbringers slowly making their way forward, as the ones in front stepped over or dragged aside the bodies of their fallen.
“Keep it up! Almost half-way there!” He called, his youthful voice filling us with hope.
Still, the same number again? I'm not sure we'll be able to keep going for that long. Is this it?
A flash of light coupled with a shout of anger shot out from the room to our left, reminding me that if we held out long enough for Verrick to defeat the [Illusionist] then he would be able to cut through the lower leveled Ashbringers with ease. Assuming that he was rested enough to defeat the half-elf who almost reached his high level, that was.
A massive one-eyed man wielding a two-handed axe broke me out of my contemplation as he struck down a tiring Deliza, her abused shield cracking apart as she fell backwards. The cyclops raised his frost-covered greataxe high, the top almost reaching the ceiling. I felt a pang of despair at the sight, I was far to far away to save the woman's life. I stepped towards her anyway, intent on both revenging her, and plugging the gap that would soon be in our lines.
I underestimated the Emperor, however. He lunged forward, dropping his borrowed spear, rapier drawn from the sheath at his side, his armour and sword glowing harshly in a golden light once more as he activated one of his [Duellist] Abilities. The tip pierced through a gap in the cyclop's armour under his armpit, the blade easily sliding through the flesh, unhindered by any defences as it pierced the axe-wielder's heart.
The massive weight of his greataxe, held so high above his head caused the cyclops to teeter and fall backwards, wrenching the rapier from the Emperor's grasp. Leaving himself completely exposed, much to their collective glee's, their target finally in sight. A half dozen spells shot towards his armoured form, as he stood there, frozen in shock. As if he'd forgotten where he was.
With a groan of effort, a blue shimmering barrier rose in front of my 'husband', holding just long enough to deflect or halt most of the spells. Unfortunately, Sarian's hastily cast Spell was much weaker than the other Barriers and Wards that he'd been reinforcing continuously during the fight.
A [Shadowbolt], cast a couple of seconds after the others by a mage who'd either anticipated such a defence or took longer to notice the opportunity. Whether luck or design, however, it did not matter. The outcome was the same, and the dark bolt of magic drilled into the glowing armour, dimming the light it was emitting considerably. He fell backwards with a cry of pain, barely missing a scrambling Deliza.
I stepped forward to fill the gap as the entire battlefield fell into silence at the sight of the Emperor falling.
Or maybe it was the giant chicken wielding a halberd that did it? Fucking Garb.
“Cluck, cluck, cluck,” I said, making the most of my appearance, “don't tell me you're all scared of little old me?” I set myself in preparation for their charge. “Let's get on with it then!”
God, that has got to be the worst 'come at me, bro' ever! I feel ashamed of myself.
I stood poised, weapon at the ready. Waiting for them to charge at me, something that could happen at any second, I needed to remain vigilant. Aaanny second now.... Nope, they're totally ignoring me.
I would have found them ignoring me in this situation a massive relief, instead I something far different They were somehow ignoring the massive polearm wielding chicken shouting insults at them. I felt highly insulted, how could they ignore my majesty?! Dastards!
I tracked their gazes, I needed to find what they found more interesting than chicken-me after all. Standing on the massive cyclops I gained enough height to see over the crowd. A sight I soon wished I could unsee.
Reinforcements were arriving by the score, their tight-knit ranks gleaming with unmarred armour. They had clearly avoided any hints of combat so far, fresh troops here to finally finish us off.
Hey, wait a sec... is that...
A man stepped into the hallway, and I frowned in recognition. Are these... actually...
My half-formed thought proved true, a couple of paces from the Ashbringer's backline the reinforcements hefted their spears and dropped the points, stabbing them straight into the unprepared ranks of the Ashbringers as they charged forward.
I lifted my spear in exultation and started doing the chicken dance. Only to realise the Garb had already shifted into something more akin to a summer dress.
Oh, for the love of...
I coughed, ignoring the stares of friend and foe alike as I sidled over to the Emperor. I ignored the burning shame that filled me at my actions. Why did I do that?
Sarian had erected flickering Barriers all around us, blocking the Ashbringers from trying to bring us down in their last moments. They were only temporary, hence why he hadn't erected them before, but their transient nature wouldn't matter, as the real Watchtower Guards made easy work of their combatants.
“How are they?” I asked Leris, as she tended to our fallen.
“Deliza will be fine, probably broke her arm trying to block that greataxe instead of deflecting it...” She broke off muttering about her poor technique, completely ignoring the fact that the guard had been fighting practically non-stop for the last couple of days.
“And Terrius?” I interrupted when it became apparent that she wasn't going to stop, even though the woman in question was sitting against the wall nearby, rolling her eyes at the older woman.
“Oh, he'll be fine. Silly boy, standing in the gap like that. He should know that's what his guards are for. It's a good thing he was wearing his armour. It blocked the worst of the Magic. I've already healed what little damage he suffered, we need only wait a couple of minutes for the sleep effect to wear off.”
I let out a small breath of relief hearing that, if the Emperor died I'd never manage to get away in time, not to mention as Empress I'd probably expected to run things, at least in the short term, and when this Garb finally came off that'd be utterly disastrous. There would be no way I could continue my deceit at that point.
Verrick stumbled out the safe room just as the Watchtower Guards were finishing off the last of the Ashbringers. He was mostly unmarked by his fight with the [Illusionist] but he was struggling to walk straight, and there was evidence of dried blood that had run out his nose and ears, along with the occasional fresh droplet.
“Ah! High Duke Loslire, I trust you have finished off the scum leading this dreadful rabble?”
Rabble? I see you're already trying to spin this in as best a light as possible. I looked around the blood-filled hallway, the metallic scent overpowering the sweat and grime covering my companions. The Garb, of course, eschewed any such things. Good luck with that, I can't see this being reported as anything other than a disaster. Still, I guess all the important people survived... Well most of them anyway, and the Duchess's death was hardly a part of the attack...
Verrick, or 'High Duke Loslire' shook his head at Belloff's question, signifying perhaps, that the [Illusionist] had managed to escape, or perhaps, giving to his condition, that Verrick had been the one to escape.
The Imperial Master of Ceremonies had of course been the individual I'd seen at the back of the Watchtower ranks, that'd led me to believe that they were our reinforcements, not vice versa. It led me to wonder what the unfortunately named individual had been up to ever since he'd disappeared at the very moment of the attack in the Throne Room.
Verrick's non-committal response caused the MoC to flap about in disarray, sending pointed questions at the back of the retreating High Duke. He just barely refrained from questioning his competence, the High Duke was his superior after all.
Seeing no answers forthcoming the lanky elf made to enter the safe room, then obviously thinking better of it, instead turned and snatched the nearest two Guards. Shoving them into the room ahead of him. Only following when a shout of 'all clear' was heard.
“Oh System, my head... what happened?” The cracking voice of the armoured man beside me broke me from my observations.
“Well, the short version is you did something stupid and almost died. I did an awesome dance. Some Watchtower Guards rescued us. Oh, and Sarian collapsed from over-using his Magic again.”
He paused as he was pulling himself up, like he couldn't make sense of my amazing explanation... Nah, probably just the Spell not having completely worn off yet.
“Oh yeah, and that Purple-robed guy made an appearance at some point.” I added, thinking that the Emperor might consider his presence important. Or something.
“Oh really?” he said voice lifting after he spent a few moments frowning at my description. “Where is he?”
What, no concern for your 'wife'? Not even a single question to ask how I am?
In response, I only pointed to the safe room. He got up, before slipping on the uneven footing. I stepped forward, catching him beneath the shoulder, then assisted his progress into the room next door. The Garb shifted into what could optimistically be called a nurses outfit, thankfully still disguising my body. But only just. I was thankful the Garb's material grew thicker or thinner as needed to 'enhance' the image it was attempting to portray.
I deposited the still recovering Emperor in one of the few complete chairs in the room. I was unsure how a fight between an [Illusionist] and a [Shadowdancer] would work, but I could see the aftermath. A few light scratches on the walls and floor, and lots of smashed chairs. Oddly the tables, bookcases, cupboards and the small wine rack all remained untouched.
Belloff sat in one of the two remaining usable chairs, a massive leather cushioned armchair, that clearly belonged in front of the unlit fireplace, not behind the desk he was sitting behind, scanning the documents that the Ashbringers had been using to plan the battle.
He gestured to a wine bottle he had clearly removed from the wine rack behind him, “Shall we make a toast to the Emperor's continued health?” He said, gesturing me to the bottle, and the three matching glasses there.
A drink, just what I need after all that.
I quickly poured us all a full glass of the dark red wine, then handed them to the other two, Belloff standing to accept the glass, and to make the toast.
“To the Emperor,” he toasted, as the rest of the Party entered the room, excepting the unconscious Sarian and one-legged Alfred of course.
“To victory.” Terrius returned.
Belloff gave me an odd smile at that, obviously still wanting to spin it into something less than it was. He lifted his glass to his lips as Terrius and I downed the contents of the glass.
Or, I did anyway. It took the Emperor a few gulps to get it all down, some spilling and trailing down his damaged golden armour.
I grimaced as I lowered the glass. This is the best they can manage for an Emperor? Yuck. I noted that Belloff had given it barely a sniff before lowering it, clearly agreeing with my unvoiced opinion.
I felt a bit dizzy as the last couple of days caught up to me. My muscles aching from the fatigue of continued use. I stumbled towards the armchair Belloff had been sitting on, but I didn't quite make it, collapsing on the desk. Perhaps the wine had been much stronger than I originally thought?
Status Quo Activated.
Congratulations, one negative Status Affliction will now be removed!
Negative Status Affliction: Soul's Rest Poison. Has been removed!
The window flashed in front of my eyes just as I was losing conciousness, reminding me that I no longer felt fatigue, and probably saving my life as the overpowered Trait removed any trace of the poison from my body.
Wait, what about the others?!
I pushed myself back to standing, feeling fine once more. Verrick, poised over the fallen body of the Emperor, blood pouring out of the cracks of his ruined armour, gave me a concerned glance, but seeing I was okay, went back to trying to save his Emperor.
I glanced toward the wine bottle, one full glass sitting beside it, in horror. My eyes flickered back to the Emperor, his body wasting away before our eyes, and the MoC kneeling over him. As if feeling my eyes resting on him, the elven man turned to look at me, his left eye twitching briefly, before turning his gaze back to his liege.
Congratulations! You have gained a new Title!
You have gained the title: Perpetrater of Imperial Regicide!
Would you like to display your new title publicly?
Y/N?
Aw, shit.
*
Status HP: 410 (+6.1/s) MP: 282 (+1.0/s) ST: 359 (1.1/s) EXP: 1800 Total Level: (5) Class Level EXP Req Name [Insert Name Here] Mental Stat Physical Stat Social Stat Traits Elf (Planar) 5 4000 Age 26 Control 58 Agility 62 Bargaining 60 Regeneration Race Elf (Planar) Resistance 52 Dexterity 51 Charm 45 Status Quo Party The Handsome Devils Spellpower 44 Strength 60 Leadership 52 Sod's Law Guild N/A Willpower 62 Vitality 59 Luck -499 Stat Points: 24