Jace’s hearing returned first. A few distinct voices pulled him from unconsciousness above a general din of murmuring amongst what must have been several scores of NPC monsters gathered close behind him.
“Where is the goblin?”
The voice was male and elegant, lacking the gruff nature of an orc or giant.
“He was there, on the big one’s shoulders, and then he was gone.”
This second one held the same elegance but with a heavy overcurrent of fear. Without moving a muscle, Jace reached out in their direction. As his senses slowly returned to him, he recognized that he was kneeling on the stone floor, his palms flat on the rock, his body back to its normal orc-size. He accessed his recently unlocked sixth sense and willed his mind’s eye toward the conversants. They stood about thirty feet away, human-sized and cold. Vampires.
“Did they leave anything behind?” the first voice said. Jace assumed this was Atrax.
“An ornate chest,” the second vampire said. “We tried to bring it, but even Torril couldn’t lift it.”
“What about the other frost giants?” Atrax asked. “Did they try to lift it together?”
“They’re all dead, sir.”
“They killed all the giants except Torril?” Atrax screamed.
Jace remained motionless, faking unconsciousness, and reached his senses behind him. His ears hadn’t deceived him, and he felt almost fifty monsters shuffling nervously. He found he could identify most of them without too much difficulty. Demons, goblins, orcs, humans, and undead all had very different magical signatures, body heats, and sizes. Eventually, he found the one frost giant left. Torril’s massive body and cold heart were hard to miss.
“And most of the mages,” the second vampire responded to Atrax’s question.
The lead vampire swore. “I suppose I have you to thank for that.”
Jace sensed Atrax’s shift in attention and recognized Esther's familiar presence. Two monks held her securely, so much so that she couldn’t give her former lover a snappy response. He turned back to his vampire servant. “Go out into the mountains. The giants should be respawning soon. Bring a few back and get me that chest. In the meantime, post at least two guards by it. I don’t want any surprises.”
The second vampire left, taking three others with him and two ogres. Atrax turned back to Esther. “Now it is time for you to join your fellow angels.” He drew close to her, and as he started to remove her armor, Jace shifted his perspective, not wanting to witness whatever violations Atrax would commit against his companion, even if it were only felt through the stone. The more he used the ability, the more he thought that experiencing someone's life energy, their magical aura, their body heat, and their weight was almost more intimate than looking at them with his eyes.
Having already examined the vast cavern behind him through the stone and sensing all the minions present, Jace inspected the characters much closer. Two monks held him on his knees fifteen feet from a circular alcove. They had him Grappled Securely, preventing him from moving, talking, or entering his inventory, but he was happy to find that using his sixth sense was no more restricted than using his other five.
Jace had seen the rough-cut passageway leading out of the last chamber and knew they were down that tunnel in a natural cavern. These walls and ceiling had not been crafted, as chunks of ore and mismatched stone surrounded them, with massive stalactites hanging some eighty feet above. However, a vast circular area, sixty feet in diameter, had been carefully carved in one corner.
Jace could feel mana pulsing through a pentagram etched in the stone floor. The shape had a classic 5-pointed star inscribed with several embellishments that created a maze of lines within the alcove, all concentrated on the center. In addition to several NPCs milling about, he sensed characters in great distress at most of the five points. Leah sat in an iron chair, shackled tight. Two totems sprouted from the floor on either side of her, draining any mana she was able to generate and keeping her curses at bay.
Moving counterclockwise, Jace sensed someone who reminded him of Tami. The mermaid was strapped to a reclined platform bolted to the floor. It must have been made of wood, for Jace couldn’t sense its complex structure, but it held enough nails and iron bands for him to discern its general shape. The one thing he could feel prominently was the enchanted spiked metal ball jammed deep into her mouth and halfway down her throat, held in place with a gag. Any slight vibration from her throat and the device released agonizing pain through her whole body.
The next spot on the pentagram was empty. This must be Delly. The barbarian woman drew her power from the earth, so they must have found a way to suspend her away from the stone. This meant Jace couldn’t sense the woman, but he didn’t doubt she was there.
Kai was next. He didn’t possess any overpowered abilities like the women and thus didn’t need any special restraints. They had simply shackled him to the floor by his wrists and ankles. The chains stretched five feet in length, just long enough to allow him to lunge in any direction. He had probably been here less than an hour and was still violently thrashing about, nearly dislocating his limbs in the process.
This left one final spot on the five-cornered shape. Jace sensed a three-foot tall altar with a 12-inch thick slab on top. Esther had been stripped of all her clothing, reduced to the starting tunic. They must have ripped her earrings and jewelry from her body, as Jace sensed blood dripping from her head, neck, and fingers.
It took three monks and an ogre to wrestle the woman off the ground and onto the top of the altar. The slab was mostly flat except for deep impressions carved for her hands and feet. Four characters held her struggling body as still as they could, each attending to one of her limbs as a demon warlock approached carrying a caldron filled with molten rock. The creature flexed his mana and surged a fresh blast of demon fire into the crucible to loosen its contents. Then, he poured half of it over Esther’s bare feet.
Her screams filled the cavern, and Jace shuttered and shook with rage at the torture. The two monks holding her legs strained with all their might to keep her ankles beneath the lava as it quickly cooled and held her fast. The warlock didn’t wait for the rock to harden and repeated the process for each of her hands. Esther’s cries of pain tore out Jace’s heart as he felt her health plummet. He detached himself from the stone altar and slumped against the monks holding him.
“I think he’s awake,” a female voice said, moving to stand ten feet in front of Jace.
“Keep your distance,” a human male said. “I’ve heard he can be quite a handful.”
“He cares for her,” the female said, stepping closer to Jace despite her partner’s warning. “I think he loves her.”
Jace knew his discrete observation had ended, and he opened his eyes. He leaned back in shock, not expecting what stood before him. He had known the female was a demon by her body heat and magical signature, and he had sensed she wore minimal metal clothing, but some things had to be seen to be understood. The exotic demoness displayed voluptuous curves held back by a tiny chainmail bikini with long legs topped by a short skirt made from metal and fabric. At first, Jace thought she wore three-inch heels, but on closer examination, she stood barefoot, and her natural bone structure gave her a stiletto look.
The demoness took a quick step back at Jace’s awakening, keeping perfect balance on her impractical feet with the help of a five-foot back staff she held in her right hand. Her spiked tail swished behind her, just grazing the floor. Her eyes remained inquisitive, shrouded by long black hair through which two short horns protruded.
The other man who had spoken laughed. “Careful, priestess,” he said. “He might bite.”
The female recovered her composure and hummed seductively. “Hmmm, I might like that.”
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Jace turned to regard this second character and recognized Triston, Thursa's spellsword brother. His hands hovered just over his twin swords, magic sparking at his fingertips in case Jace tried anything. Without any weapons or equipment, Jace wouldn’t have much chance against the uniquely talented fighter. And that was assuming he had the skill to escape the two monks holding him, which he didn’t. The edges of his vision still pulsed red, letting the player know he had never left combat mode. With the amount of time Jace had remained unconscious, all of the boons Gromphy and he had cast would have expired. He could still feel his armor totem at the edge of his range, but that was all he had.
“Did you find a new plaything, Selvy?” a third person asked.
Jace recognized the voice and turned to see Vithium walking away from the altar. Atrax stayed behind to ensure Esther remained incapacitated. The rogue’s cries of pain had reduced to whimpers now, likely because all the nerve endings in her hands and feet had been burned away. Jace scowled at the player responsible for all this. He wanted to say something, but the monks still held him too tight.
“Let me introduce Tristan Hamley and Selvecia,” Vithium said, standing between the two characters. They moved to give the monk room. The spellsword never let his fingers get more than a few inches from his hilts while the demon priestess licked her lips to reveal a fang-filled mouth and let her eyes scroll hungrily up and down Jace’s orc frame. He wore only a loin cloth.
“Atrax is attending to Esther to make sure she doesn’t die,” Vithium continued. “And back there is Jorl. Nobody likes him very much, and he doesn’t talk.”
Jace followed the monk’s hand to see a dark figure standing just outside the pentagram, leaning against the wall, partially hidden in shadows. The stone shaman had sensed most of these characters during his survey of the room but only had enough information to identify Atrax. However, he had no memory of sensing this cloaked man before. Even now, he reached out to him through the stone and felt nothing. With the vampires, who lacked life, he felt a cold, magical presence. Jorl seemed to be nothing but a shadow.
“You know,” Vithium continued, drawing Jace’s attention back. “I tried to give Esther enchanted blue diamonds several times, but she just wouldn’t wear them. Eventually, I realized it didn’t matter. The spell wouldn’t draw her here until her quest was finished. And this,” he paused to motion toward their surroundings, “is her quest. I knew I could count on you.”
The monk waited for a response, but Jace still couldn’t talk. Vithium motioned to the men holding the orc to relax their grip a bit. Jace still didn’t say anything. The other player mistook his silence for confusion.
“Perhaps you don’t understand your role in all this,” Vithium explained. “You see, I needed . . .”
“I got it,” Jace said, cutting him off.
“What?” Vithium stepped back.
“I said I got it,” Jace repeated. “This is the part where you, as the villain, are supposed to monologue your glorious plan of seducing Esther and convincing her to have me unlock all her friends so they would come running out here into your waiting arms, allowing you to sacrifice them to your demon lord. Don’t bother. I got it. We don’t have to waste time. Just get on with your Revelation-style apocalypse so I can escape and kill you all.”
Vithium stumbled backward, genuinely Shocked.
Selvecia laughed. “You were right about this one,” she said. “He speaks like no orc I’ve ever met. I like him. What does he mean by ‘Revelation-style apocalypse?’”
“He’s no orc,” Vithium said, recovering. “He is from my realm, and I think he must be making a Bible reference. I don’t know, I’ve never read it.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Jace said. “Though it looks like a pretty faithful representation. You’ve got a false priest,” he nodded toward Selvecia. “Death and Hades are over there,” he motioned to Jorl and Atrax. “All that’s missing is the beast.” Jace had expected to see Karo’Kafellon, but the demon hadn’t made his entrance yet.
“Oh, he’s coming,” Vithium said. “What about me? Does Haman make an appearance in Revelation?”
Jace smirked. The man wasn’t as Bible illiterate as he claimed. With all of the angel’s quests taken from scripture, he couldn’t afford to be. “You’re the antichrist,” Jace said. Vithium seemed to revel in that label, so Jace switched it up. “No, wait, you’re Judas. Someone who betrays his friend with a kiss.”
They both looked over at Esther. “Oh, we’ve done much more than kiss,” Vithium said.
Jace smirked. “Don’t brag to me about your virtual girlfriend.”
The monk moved like lighting, stopping just in front of the shaman with a glowing fist poised inches from his face. “You’ve got a smart mouth and a wisecrack for everything, but those smarts and wisdom have led you right into my trap.”
Laughter came from Jace’s left. He turned to see Psycho chuckling to himself. His ancestral armor couldn’t be forcibly removed, but they had stripped him of everything else other than knee-length trousers.
“What’s so funny?” Vithium asked, stepping away from Jace.
“You think we are the ones in the trap,” Psycho said. “You think you have beaten Jace Thonre. Do you have any idea how many other players thought the same thing?” He bored holes into Vithium with his cold eyes. “Even before I joined his party, I saw him take on characters twice as powerful as you while he was half his current level. Time and again, everyone thought they had him beaten. They gloated and tried to squeeze every last secret, every last ounce of power they could, out of Jace Thorne. And now all of them are dead.”
Vithium had nothing to say. Someone else spoke for him.
“Nal Saikol Gladekin,” Atrax announced, moving away from Esther’s altar to stand before the kneeling elf. Two monks held the archer securely, though they had obviously loosened their grip to allow Psycho to speak. “Famed elven archer,” the vampire continued. “Said to be the best hunter in the realms. No target stands a chance against you, right?”
Psycho said nothing.
“Only one prey has escaped you thus far, correct? Though you have sought one with all your might, you are yet to face and beat a dragon.” Atrax shook his head. “Such a waste. Such a disappointment. Only . . . what do I see? Why, look, it is a dragon. Right over there. Just waiting for one of your arrows to pierce her heart.”
Everyone turned to see Draya, just emerging from her unconsciousness, hoisted up between two fire-resistant demons, still oblivious to the events around her.
“Alas,” Psycho said. “And me without my bow.”
Atrax laughed and motioned toward a collection of vampires standing thirty feet away. One of them went into his inventory and returned with Psycho’s elemental bow and a single arrow. He tossed it to Atrax. “Look what I have here.”
“Are you sure that is wise?” Tristan asked, his hands now firmly on his weapons.
“Fear not, wizard,” Atrax said, offering the weapon to Psycho. “He will need at least six seconds to kill any of us with only one shot. If he aims an arrow at anyone other than the dragon mage, he will be dead in five. I do love elven blood.”
With a nod from the vampire, the monks behind the archer released him and let him stand. Psycho tentatively took the bow and arrow but didn’t raise them. “You think this is a game,” Psycho said. “You think I would kill her for personal advancement.”
Jace knew Psycho would gain another valuable archer skill if he killed a dragon.
“No,” Atrax said. “You think this is a game. You think your master is just going to pull a trump card out of thin air and beat us all. You have no idea what kind of forces are at play here. You shouldn’t think of the consequences of killing her. You should think of the consequences of not killing her. Of what will happen if you don’t put an arrow through her heart. And what if you did? She would feel no pain. She’s barely awake now and wouldn’t even know it was you. Your master still lives, so she would just wake up in her bed, a little dizzy.”
Jace watched as Psycho drank in this argument. He was a trained killer, conditioned to remove emotion from his actions. Jace wanted to cut in, not believing for a moment that Draya would wake up in bed. This monastery had to be a stronghold, and even if Vithium had denied his god, this group must have control of it, and any NPC killed here would be trapped until the owner released them.
Jace tried to say this but felt the monks behind him tighten their grip in response to a hand motion from Vithium, stealing his ability to speak. His archer would have to fight through this temptation on his own.
“And think what will happen if you don’t kill her,” Atrax continued. “Think of what we will do to her. What we will make her do. Of course, you think Jace Thorne is going to free you all. We’ll all be dead in a few minutes, and you will return home with another fabulous story to tell to all the people of Safe Haven. Are you willing to take that gamble? Or will you take the shot?”
Psycho’s grip on the bow tightened, and his other hand instinctively nocked the arrow to the string, but he hadn’t raised his arms yet. Jace knew this interaction was purely game mechanics. Atrax was using a Bluff or Persuasion skill, and Psycho had to make Will saves. Still, Jace understood Gandhi allowed modifiers based on role-playing conditions, and he had no idea how Psycho would react.
Selvecia sauntered over. “Atrax, dear, you’re doing it all wrong. They don’t call him Psycho because he is a hunter ruled by logic. He is a creature of passion.” She stepped up behind him, dragging her fingernails along his bare arm, lifting it as if she were pulling an invisible string on a puppet. She used her other hand to wave her staff behind his head, the massive black pearl on top glowing with power. “Shoot her,” she whispered in his ear, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her body against his back. Jace could feel the charm mana flowing off her from twenty feet away. Psycho pulled back on the bow. “Shoot her for me.”
The elf quivered, his body aching under pressure, as the demoness’s forked tongue snaked around his ear and her tail curled around to caress his leg. Psycho balanced on a knife’s edge, moments from falling either way. Eventually, he dropped the bow without shooting, collapsing in a heap, his body wracked with sobs. Selvecia walked away from the beaten archer, a huge smile on her lips. Atrax crouched beside him, grabbing the bow and arrow and tossing them a safe distance away. “I will tell you when you can laugh and when this is a game. Until then, keep your mouth shut and let the grownups conduct their business.”
As the monks regained their hold on Psycho, Atrax withdrew from the archer and moved to stand next to Esther again.
“Well,” Vithium said. “Sorry for that interruption. Where were we?”