Chapter 28 – Floor 3: Part 2

“Ten thousand Aether for a healing Potion, and it’s only good for ‘light’ wounds?! The shop is a scam.” Mathew exclaimed, smearing the bright red potion onto his arm. It was as thick as maple syrup, and he had to tilt the small glass vial over the wound for several seconds before it all came out.

It flowed into the cut, filling it before slowly being absorbed by his skin. The inflamed wound immediately looked better, as if it had been healing for months instead of hours. In a minute, it was gone, leaving nothing but a white scar in its place.

“Better that than dying, Mathew. Just don’t get wounded, and you won’t have to worry about a thing.” Greg observed while they were leaving the Temple.

“Come on, I got a spot we can rest at. It’s nothing much, but it's clean and dry.” Greg stated, leading the way through the city's streets and as far away from the damaged gates as possible. Although the Goblins were unlikely to attack during the day, neither of them wanted to risk being caught next to it while resting.

While they were walking along the mostly deserted streets, weaving their way through the rubble and around collapsed buildings and great rents in the ground, Mathew asked Greg a question that he hadn’t thought to ask before.

Generally, they didn’t dig too much into other player’s pasts. It was private, and no one liked to be reminded of what they left behind outside. But after their conversation that morning, Mathew thought that Greg might want to discuss it.

“Why do you regret coming in here, Greg? Did you leave people behind outside?” Mathew asked, nearly wincing at how dumb the question was. If he weren’t so tired, he may have framed it better.

If Greg was offended, he didn’t show it.

“Not really. I didn’t have anyone left with me outside. I wasn’t in a good state when I entered. I was a drinker. I am a drinker. After a while, it drives everyone around you away. I figured if I didn’t enter, I was going to die anyway.” Greg explained, shrugging his shoulder.

“Maybe it would have been better to pass peacefully out there, you know?” Greg finished.

“Maybe.” Mathew stated sadly. Each floor was worse than the last, and they were only on the third. How much worse could it get?

They arrived at a small house, the windows and door still intact. It was tucked beneath the wall, with a stone platform above and a wooden crane they would use to bring up supplies if needed. The area looked abandoned. If there were people around, they were making themselves scarce.

Greg pushed open the door, and the interior was covered in a thick layer of dust. It looked like the family who owned it had left in the middle of the day. There were still personal items scattered about.

The main area had some furniture and a small kitchen. A set of stairs led to a few bedrooms on the next level.

“You can take the other bedroom. I’ve been crashing in the master.” Greg explained, not even taking off his boots as he walked up the stairs and closed the door to his room.

Mathew collapsed on a small, single-sized bed with clean sheets and a thin mattress. He didn’t take off his shoes or clothes either, and he was too tired to care.

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“This can’t be real.” Mathew whispered.

The pair were huddled on top of the wall, peeking over the battlements to observe the Goblin army in the distance. From the house they were staying in, Mathew and Greg climbed a set of stairs and walked across the top of the wall surrounding the city, staying crouched the entire way so that no one could see them.

A few other people were with them, all drawn to stare at the enemy.

Mathew estimated there were over ten thousand of them, possibly more. The Goblins had dug trenches and holes in the ground for shelter, leaving piles of supplies and stolen crates of goods to bake in the noonday sun.

Catapults and trebuchets were sprinkled amongst the army, explaining the giant balls of fire that Mathew had seen the night before. He wasn’t sure if the Goblins had built or stolen them from the defeated human army. All that mattered was that they were pointed at the city and would be used again once night fell.

“It’s real alright.” Greg whispered.

“How many people do you think we have?” Mathew asked.

“Just Players? A thousand, probably less. The only good thing we have going for us is that we get reinforcements from the lower floors. The Goblins don’t.” Greg replied.

“Then we should win eventually. We just have to stay alive.” Mathew replied, sitting down and leaning against the barricade. Greg snorted, shaking his head as he adjusted something on his crossbow.

“Easier said than done. We should look at finding a place to set up for the night. Preferably back from the front line. I’ll hinder their movements, and you burn them.” Greg suggested, slinging his crossbow across his back and starting back down the wall.

After a final glance at the Goblin army, Mathew followed.

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They had settled on a sloped roof of a house over a hundred feet back from the front gate. A line of other Players were already waiting for the Goblins to appear. Mathew had taken some time to try and guess their Disciplines, but they were as varied and obtuse as always.

Some had melee weapons gripped in their hands, wearing armour, while others had bows, spears and even firearms. Those were easy to identify. The strangely dressed people in the back row left Mathew confused.

One woman held a deck of cards in her hand, flicking them nervously as she watched the gate. A muscular man had a hammer and chisel, although Mathew suspected he wasn’t going to use them to strike his enemies directly.

A cluster of robed and hooded men and women were clearly magic users like Mathew, protected as they were well behind the main line.

“Ready? It’s going to start soon.” Greg said, loading a bolt into his crossbow and using a small crank on the side to set it.

“How do you-” Mathew was interrupted by the deafening banging of drums. The sound carried over the wall, a rhythmic sound that set Mathew’s nerves on edge.

“Because they always do that.” Greg finished, placing his crossbow on a roof slat and lining its sights with the gate. The veterans, meaning those few who had survived more than a single night in the city, showed signs of nervousness as they all watched the blocked gates with nervous anticipation.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The noise continued until, finally, it stopped in an instant.

Mathew drew in a breath before there was a thunderous explosion. The debris blocking the gate erupted in fire and smoke; the explosive detonation shook the foundations of the city, and the shockwave rolled over Mathew.

“What was that!?” Mathew screamed.

“Sappers! Goblins rigged the gates to blow!” Greg shouted. Wiping the dust from his face, he looked down the sights of his crossbow once more.

Screaming, Goblins burst out of the screen of dust and smoke, their weapons raised high as they charged the humans. In moments, both sides were locked into combat. Arrows, bolts and magic spells crossed the distance, striking the Goblins and decimating their ranks.

With a loud ‘twang,’ Greg’s crossbow sent a bolt hurtling through the air. It slammed into a Goblin, knocking it off its feet and into another. With a snap of his fingers, Mathew timed it perfectly to catch both in his conjured fire.

Greg was already setting another bolt, working the crank to draw back the cable and set another bolt.

Again and again, they worked in unison to bring down the attacking Goblins. But as they fell, so did the players fighting them and the city was once again covered in bodies and blood.

After only a few minutes of intense fighting, Mathew was already panting. His body was covered with sweat as he focused on burning one Goblin after another.

He didn’t notice when the black-robbed Goblin mages entered the battlefield, releasing fire and lightning of their own.