Mark of the fated 3 a li.., p.22
Mark of the Fated 3: A LitRPG Adventure, page 22
Sun wasn’t convinced. “Do you think an industrious people like the dwarves would leave such a weakness? Or even if there was one, that it wouldn’t be designed to stop anyone they didn’t want using it? Imagine the deserter cave from Kherrash if it wasn’t filled with drunken imbeciles.”
“I guess.” After a few moments of hesitation, I continued. “There’s another way, but I’m not overly keen on trying it.”
“What’re you thinking?” asked Cris.
“I’m the only one here who can save himself if he falls, right? Without using our mounts, I mean.”
They all nodded, even Abby who hadn’t seen the gift to which I was referring.
“Your eagle form will provide a much smaller target if the worst should happen,” Sun agreed. “But you’ll still need to either make it over the wall, or back into our tunnel, under fire.”
Cris raised a cautionary finger. “I still haven’t heard the plan, only what happens if it goes to shit.”
“I put my silkweb set on, try to sneak past their gunfire when they’re reloading, and use my spider hands to reach them without being seen. Either crawl along the ceiling of the cavern or the side of the bridge.”
“I don’t think you’re going to have the chance,” said Cody, staring at his minimap.
I looked up at it and the bridge was filling with red dots. They flowed across as if a bottle’s stopper had been removed. Small lumps of our barricade started to tumble from the vibrations of their heavy boots as they neared. Through the rubble I heard their pitiful, croaky war cries. They slammed into the stone, and the entire structure shifted.
“They’re going to try stripping it down,” I said, taking position to fight. “Cris, can you light a fire under their arses?”
“Not until I can see a spot to target. If I cast it this side, it might just rebound and burn us.”
“Ok, get back and I’ll clear you a line of sight. Let’s sweep these fuckers into their own chasm.”
My party retreated to a sensible distance, and I turned to the shifting pile. Some on the top started to sag towards the hold, so I dropped a few larger lumps on for good measure and it collapsed completely, burying the first row of digging dwarves. The avalanche had opened a narrow gap along the roof of the tunnel, and before I could call out to Cris, the air started to darken, spitting embers as the spell gathered its strength.
I ran away as the heat became too intense to bear. Our enemy noticed the phenomenon and broke away from the mound of rubble. The dwarves to the rear were too intent on pushing forward, so all that was achieved was a crush in the middle of the pack.
“I’m going to follow it out,” I called over the growing roar. “Use the distraction to get myself out of sight. Sun, I’m borrowing your cleaver.”
It appeared in my pack before I could take it. “Be careful!” she yelled.
The Pyroclastic Flow reached its peak and churned its way down the tunnel. I was after it like a flash, climbing the red-hot debris and diving through the same gap Cris had used to cast. I rolled down the other side, bouncing from stone to rock until I landed on the charred corpses. The spell reached the tunnel exit and spilled out over the bridge. Many of the fleeing dwarves simply jumped from the edge to spare themselves the flame.
My Silkweb armour was struggling to keep up with the constant movement, but the seething mass of volcanic fury had their full attention.
At least for the next few seconds.
I hopped carefully over the steaming bodies and found myself at the exit. Slipping off the gloves and boots, I fought my terror at the sheer drop waiting for me and crawled over the same edge the sensible dwarves had used. The rock was absolutely solid, and my grip held firm as I scurried upside down to the underside of the bridge. I could make out nothing of the bottom below me, even with my Night Eyes throwing back some of the darkness. Only the faint clatter of armour bouncing from the walls echoed faintly up to me, with no crash of final impact.
“Fuck that,” I whispered, returning my attention to the rock under my hands.
The ‘bridge’ I was clinging to was effectively a square section of stone around ten feet wide, and thirty feet deep. It had been carved at some point, because I could make out the pick-marks that had accompanied us all the way here. My mind reeled at the poor masons who’d been forced to work beneath, much less how they’d achieved that remarkable feat.
Following the shocked lull, the wall guardians resumed their fire in reply. Scant few of the dwarves had made it back to safety according to my map. None of them seemed in any hurry to rush back across to engage my party again.
Crawling forward, I was surrounded by the deafening booms of cannon fire. The sharp reports followed the suicidal dwarves down into the depths, each echo growing weaker. It took me a few minutes to make it across, mostly due to my own fear slowing me down.
My hidden position shielded me from any attention, but I had to move to one side if I hoped to summon our demon lord. With the bottomless nothing beneath me, I edged slowly from cover, staring intently at the wall that topped the cliff. One unlucky glance over and they would see my hands and feet, meaning a quick drop and a miracle to survive. Nothing peeked between the embrasures, so I cautiously moved up the side of the rock. Two towers linked the gatehouse, and I could see thick steel pipes pointing down at the open area below.
Murder holes, I thought to myself.
The question was, would Sar’Ozan endure long enough to make it worthwhile summoning him.
Better you than us, mate.
With the decision made, I crawled higher and found the heavy gates slightly ajar. Knowing that eyes were likely peering out, I threw caution to the wind and hoped they were fixed on the tunnel. Scrabbling higher, I drew level with the bridge and withdrew the warcleaver. One quick instruction was all I needed for the dusty rock to start swirling with demonic energy.
The dwarves guarding the gate started to panic, their startled voices little more than wet gurgles. Praying the summoning portal now had their full attention, I headed away from the bridge, clambering across the face of the vertical wall. My hunch paid off as the enemy markers started to peel away from their positions. They all headed in the direction of the gate as Sar’Ozan’s cackling head rose from his abyssal prison. Thick arms slammed down, dragging the bloated body out into the mountain hold.
They dwarves started to fire their muskets, painting a target on themselves that our demon slave was happy to answer. With the gate half open, his massive form charged straight through, tearing the iron-banded timber from its hinges and scattering the weak bodies. A second later, the murder holes erupted with steam that hit absolutely nothing. If they’d kept the gate secure, the demon would’ve been boiling by now. Whether that would’ve actually hurt him was a question I hadn’t considered. He came from a place of fire and pain.
Seeing an opportunity during the fight, I climbed up to the top of the wall and jumped over, equipping the boots and gloves again. I stayed down and still, watching the unequal battle in the open ground beyond the gate. Hundreds of dwarves were converging, and they fought in as much of a coherent structure as they could manage when faced with such an enemy. Ranks of the gunners lined up in the surrounding streets, while others aimed down from the towers. They fired erratically, hitting the demon dozens of times. Sar’Ozan’s crimson skin erupted with small spurts of blood from each slug, but he was just too powerful to let the middling damage bother him. Those without muskets charged in with axes and hammers, hacking at the demon lord.
He’d gone toe to toe with Tyrannosaurs.
The plagued stood no chance.
His gigantic claws cleaved through the press of bodies like a scythe through wheat, scattering their parts far and wide.
I used the distraction to target a group of musketeers who were almost done with reloading. The Țepeș Stakes erupted from the stone, stabbing them through armour and flesh. Many were killed outright, while others twitched on their agonising pikes until they withdrew back into the magical nether. I picked out another group and let my rodent swarm loose on them. They started to fire in a panic, shooting each other as much as my furry minions.
I caught sight of something beyond the wall and found my party sprinting across the bridge. Abby was literally riding Fen, using the ridges on his armour for handholds. The dwarves on the towers noticed too, and turned to ready the cannons. I jumped up and raced towards them, casting Smite as they lit the fuse on the closest gun. The energy lanced down, smelting the end of the barrel as it fired. The backfire wiped out the entire gunnery crew and most of the tower’s walls.
The explosion had served to make the second cannon crew take cover from the raining debris. Jumping through the destruction, I withdrew my crossbow and armed it in one fluid motion. Coming to a stop in the smoking ruin, I fired at the fuse-wielder as he stood up, scoring a hit in his upper arm. My bolt exploded, sending his limb and the smoking wick over the wall and into the chasm beyond. He looked at the leaking stump, dumbfounded. I ran forward, reached a suitable distance, and swapped to a box of my goblin explosives. Lighting the fuse, I pitched it at the stunned crew and jumped down from the wall into the hold itself. Chunks of tower and dwarf pattered down in the aftermath of the subsequent blast.
I took cover in a narrow alley, watching the last few moments of the demon’s rampage. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my foot and began to dance one-legged on the stone. Blood filled my boot, spilling from the seams. I looked for some kind of trap, only to find ghostly hands clawing at me from the ground.
“You dirty fuckers!” I snapped, hobbling away while tossing torches at the grasping limbs.
Sar’Ozan’s time was up, and he roared triumphantly atop the piled dead. A volley of musket fire hit the massive arms of the demonic warders who reached up through the swirling portal, bouncing from the toughened skin without causing any damage. Many of the bodies had dropped through the portal with our demon, and I had a weird image of a plague tearing through Hell. Satan running around in a panic, demanding the demons find a cure in their hell-labs. Another spectre swiped at me, banishing the silly thought.
My party ignored the carnage of the reception area and slipped left as soon as they were past the gate. Cris noticed a group of gunners were almost ready to fire and rewarded them with an Arcane Rift.
They managed to get a couple of shots off before their whole world got sucked into the vortex to be remoulded. Both fortunately missed, ricocheting from the nearby wall. All of the spectral limbs drew back as Fen’s aura got within range. My damaged feet were healing quickly from the health potion I’d taken.
“I can’t believe we made it across,” said Cris. “I couldn’t even see the bottom of the chasm.”
“Let’s find somewhere a bit safer, shall we?” I asked, leading my party away from the gate as the dwarves started to plod after us in pursuit.
No one argued with my plan.
They had been expecting us, and all their force was located around the shattered entrance. According to my map, we were fairly clear as far the hold itself went, but with the glitches I couldn’t count on it. We ran on, dodging from street to street, putting as much distance as we could between us and the remaining plague-bearers. Abby was grinning like a madwoman, clinging on for dear life to our fearsome warg.
Chapter 28
Whatever fighting spirit remained in the dwarves had been crushed by our assault. They followed us from street to street, and we killed them without loss or injury. Their axes swung without purpose or vigour. Their muskets were fired from the hip, as if they were just too heavy or they wanted to miss. Within an hour, we were alone with nothing but the corpses and a distant entourage of ghosts that Fen kept at bay. He would also rush off periodically, chasing them to hear their screams of pain. He never went further than the limit of his aura to ensure our shield was firmly in place.
I patted him on the head when he returned once again, grinning and drooling slobber. “Good boy. You teach them ghosts a lesson.”
“What now?” asked Cody. “We’re clear as far as I can see on the map.”
I stared at my gore-tainted halberd and sighed. “I guess we move on to the next. And the next. And the…”
“Next,” Sun finished for me.
“Until then, we can at least have a look around,” said Cris.
“And until then, I’d like our resident warg-rider to take a look at the map. If she’s feeling up to it.”
Abby nodded at me. “I’m ready.”
Much the same as the dock, every third building was a tavern. That might’ve been an exaggeration, but their proliferation was quite high in terms of inns per square mile. I walked through the doors of the nearest establishment and found the place was covered in the pus and filth of the plagued.
“The poor fuckers still came in here to drink and socialise?” I asked. The idea seemed abhorrent to me. Sitting around in silence, toasting each other’s agonising misery. I couldn’t get away fast enough. “Let’s head next door into one of the homes, shall we?”
Everyone backed out, careful to avoid the muck.
Sun walked down the street, found a suitable target, and put a boot to the dwelling’s door. Her power destroyed the entire thing. We stepped over the slivers of wood and I felt a pang of sadness when I saw the wooden toys laid out before the cold, dark fireplace. I hoped the family we were trespassing were safe somewhere, under the care of Agnor and the remaining dwarven army. Stone busts lined a dresser under the window, and I assumed they were the hold’s version of a family portrait. Three very young faces smiled next to a man and woman who were without expression. I pictured the children trying to hold still for hours and hours, giggling and fidgeting while the mason chipped away at the soft stone.
“We’ll return the home to them soon. There will be smiles within these walls again,” said Abby.
I wrapped my arm around her bony shoulder and gave her a hug. “Yeah.”
“And everyone will see them smiling because there’s no door for them to close,” she added.
“I think I’ll need to leave some coin.”
“You may take it from my tax. I caused the damage,” said Sun.
Her words stopped me in my tracks. “Hang on, what tax?”
“My keeping you alive tax,” she replied. “A share of your trillion dollar ideas will suffice.”
“You don’t even know what a dollar is!”
“A pound then,” she fired back. “They are both money. Money has value. It buys goods. I will buy many goods.”
“You’ll be back on Kherrash. I wouldn’t be able to get it to you.”
Cris pulled a face. “Never underestimate the tax office. They’ll cross universes if you try and get out of paying what you owe.”
Sun nodded. “I will return to collect. Bart will help me.”
He probably would too, damn him. “Fine, I’ll give you a share.”
Cody looked at us, raising two thumbs. “Four ways?”
“I could disband you from the party and leave you down here.”
His raised thumbs changed to surrendering palms. “I’m just here for the excitement. No need to be like that.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I replied.
We found the dining room and I moved to the table. Spreading out the map, I used the empty mugs to pin it down. Abby approached and laid her hands on the parchment. She closed her eyes and let her fingertips feel the mountain in a way I couldn’t understand.
“It’s… near,” Abby whispered.
“The evil you sense?”
She nodded and lifted her hands from the table. I thought she was done, but she turned slowly in the low-ceilinged room, concentrating intently. Her head twitched subtly, as if she was listening for something.
“It’s near,” she repeated, slowly walking around the table. She bumped into furniture as she searched, finally stopping at a patch of nondescript wall. “That way. A few hours walk.”
Our minimap updated from a vague, golden hue to a firm arrow.
The teenager started to tremble, her face twisting in a pained grimace. “So much… hate. So much… power.” She started to frantically shake her head and began screaming. “Get out! Get out!”
We all flinched at the cry and I rushed over, taking her hands to stop them from tearing at her hair. Sun joined me and doused her with a bottle of water. The chilly shock snapped Abby out of her nightmare state.
“You’re safe. All’s well,” said Sun, pulling the girl close.
Abby blinked away the water and looked up at Sun. “Of course, I’m safe. Why am I wet?”
“You don’t remember screaming?” asked Cody, frowning.
Abby looked at us each in turn. “I screamed?”
“You were telling something to get out of your head. Like it was hurting you,” I explained.
“I’m not in pain,” she replied, rubbing at her temple. “Only wet.”
“It was the quickest way I could think to bring you back,” said Sun. “You were starting to claw at yourself.”
Abby laughed. “Why would I do that? You’re playing another trick on me, aren’t you?”
“No, but we can worry about it later,” I replied, uneasily. “You’ve given us a way forward. It’s time to hit the road again.”
“Let’s get to it then,” said Cody.
I stashed the map and dropped a handful of coins on the table in its place.
The waiting street was quiet. In fact, the entire hold was quiet. The tunnel exit we needed was about a mile away. In the frenzy of battle, I hadn’t had time to appreciate the sheer magnificence and size of the dwarven city. Pillars of stone a hundred feet wide stretched from the ground to the roof overhead. Their outer face was carved with scenes of battle, crafting, mining, everything that the race found pride in.
Similar sconces hung from the rocky roof high overhead, much larger than those in the tunnels. The size of crystal was similarly much bigger, casting a warm glow across the entire hold.
