Silver peak, p.12
Silver Peak, page 12
part #2 of Sky Realms Online Series
“Whose was it?” Sabine asked, suspicion in her voice.
Hall wished they had known about the tower earlier. They could have avoided the entire fight with the Undead. All RPGs had one thing in common. A lone and empty tower in the middle of the woods, or anywhere, was always anything but empty.
“An old Elf Shaman,” Jackoby answered and glanced at one of the Hunters.
“Yorsif,” the Hunter supplied.
“That is where we must go,” Jackoby said, his voice strong and brooking no argument.
Jackoby of the Brownpaw wants your assistance in investigating the Tower of Yorsif the Shaman to see how it is connected to the Undead Uprising plaguing the Brownpaw Firbolg.
THE ROAMING DEAD II
Investigate the Tower of Yorsif the Shaman 0/1
Reward: +200 Brownpaw Firbolg Reputation
+50 Experience
Accept Quest?
Hall looked in the same direction. He was estimating how long it would take to get to the tower, comparing it to the amount of day they had left. It was barely noon. They could push on and get close to the tower. He wanted more distance between them and the Undead. He was about to tell the group to get moving when an unpleasant thought entered his mind.
“Did this Shaman die in his tower?” Hall asked.
Jackoby shrugged before the impact of what Hall asked hit him. Sabine groaned and cursed.
“I do not know,” Jackoby answered.
Great, Hall thought. We might have a Lich to deal with.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hall had guessed the direction accurately. It took about an hour of walking through thick forest growth before they came upon the tower, looking like what Hall had quickly glimpsed as he jumped from the Fallen Green to the stump.
Three stories tall, it barely reached above the tallest trees, which helped shield it from view. Made of a light gray stone, large blocks fit carefully together. Square with crenellations along the parapet. The walls were straight, about thirty feet long, with small windows set into the stone. Each of the windows was boarded up with shutters that hung rotting from hinges.
Vines grew up the face of the tower, thick, the cleared space in front overgrown. The trees had been cut back a good fifty feet around the tower, isolating it in the middle of the clearing.
It looked like no one had been there for decades, but Hall could see broken grasses, pushed asides branches, that indicated someone had passed recently.
That and the two giant Undead creatures standing guard outside.
Skill Gain!
Identify Rank One +.2
Shambling Rotten Oak Craobh (Blue)
Shambling Rotten Birch Craobh (Blue)
Hall had never encountered Undead Craobh before. Living trees, they moved and talked, protectors of the forest. The Undead Craobh were pitted and cracked, the bark falling in many places. Worms and other insects crawled across their surfaces. Long limbs ending in clawed fingers, thick legs, barely any face just the markings of eyes in the bark, long branches extending above that would have been covered in leaves but were now bare. One was gray and thicker around while the other was thin, having white bark with black stripes.
The Oak Craobh was at least fifteen feet tall, the Birch only ten feet.
And they were now showing Difficulty, something that Identify had not done before. Quickly checking his Character Sheet, Hall saw that he was now at 5.1 points for Identify. Difficulty must have been triggered by reaching 5 points in the Skill. Each name was in Blue. If he remembered how it had worked before correctly, Blue enemies were only one or two Levels above his.
“I didn’t think there were any Craobh in Fallen Green,” Hall said quietly as they all huddled in the treeline. He glanced at Jackoby.
“There aren’t,” the Firbolg Warden replied just as confused as to why the living trees were here and why they were now Undead. “Not usually,” he added after some thought.
“Oh?” Hall prompted.
“Once a year, some make a pilgrimage from the forests to the north down here to see Fallen Green,” Jackoby said. “But that had been months ago.”
Hall just shook his head. It really didn’t matter why. What mattered was that the Craobh were now here and in their way. He studied the tower, sending the Firbolg hunters around to the back and one side, Leigh taking the other, to watch the windows for any sign of movement. It was midafternoon, the sun starting its descent. He didn’t like the idea of having to camp in the forest with the Undead roaming around. If they didn’t assault the tower soon, they would have to return to the Firbolg village and try again.
He was tempted to do that anyway; return to Green Ember and come back in the morning with more Firbolg warriors. The scream from the rear of the tower changed those plans. One of the Firbolg hunters. The two Craobh turned, alerted by the sound.
They would never get a better chance.
“Roxhard, the Birch,” Hall ordered. “Jackoby, the Oak.”
The Firbolg Warden glared at him, trying to decide if he should listen or run to the rear to see to his clanmate. In the end, he turned away from Hall and activated his Battle Rush.
Hall watched as both Wardens sped off toward their targets. They were blurs, feet pounding hard on the ground. They pushed through the grass, the wind from their passage blowing across the clearing. Jackoby outpaced Roxhard, his strides longer.
The Firbolg slammed into the heavier Oak Craobh. Bark exploded on the impact, the inside of the creature beneath the rotting bark was soft. Pulp covered Jackoby as his warhammer slammed into the living tree’s stump thick legs. It groaned, almost falling forward.
Roxhard hit his with more force. The Birch Craobh cracked, two of its long branch fingers snapping off. The creature howled. Arrows shot out from the trees, striking the Craobh. Hall smiled, glad to see the other Firbolg Hunter had decided to help Roxhard.
“Pick a target,” he told Sabine as he ran out of the treeline.
He didn’t look to see what she chose to do, just kept running. He angled toward the Oak Craobh that was trying to turn around to get at Jackoby. The Warden kept moving, keeping the creature’s back in front of him.
Activating Leap when he was close enough, Hall jumped into the air. He stabbed down at the Craobh, high enough to avoid the branches so his attack did minimal damage. Every little bit helped, and it was not his intent to battle that Craobh.
He landed just beyond it, legs bent to absorb the impact. He resisted the urge to use his Attack of Opportunity on the Craobh, instead pushing forward. Dashing around the corner of the tower, he stopped and cursed.
Just as he feared.
The Firbolg Hunter lay with his back against a tree, smoke rising from his leather and bark armor. He was weaponless, in obvious pain as he glared across the open space. Smoke rose from the ground around him, the tree behind scorched and blackened. Near the tower’s wall was a tall figure. Judging by the slimness of the Skeleton and the overall height, it had once been an Elf, now just a Skeleton in rotting robes. The skull was bare, exposed, the hand and finger bones sticking out of the robe’s hem, moving in complicated gestures. The empty eye sockets glowed with a sickly green light.
Above the animated Skeleton was a balcony coming off the stone tower. Open doors led inside to where the Lich must have come from before spying the Firbolg Hunter.
Leigh stood off to the side of the Hunter, staff extended and splinters spraying out toward the Skeleton. Angus was next to her, the cow mooing angrily.
Skill Gain!
Identify Rank One +.1
Yorsif the Undying Lich (Orange)
A Lich. An Undead magic user. The fire damage meant it had been a Shaman. And it answered Hall’s question to Jackoby. The Shaman that built the tower had died there.
The splinters from Leigh’s staff flew straight and true, speeding to their target. The Lich raised a hand, moving it from left to right and a gust of wind blew across the clearing. The splinters were caught in the gust, all of them blown harmlessly aside. The glowing eyes turned to the Druid.
Hall Leapt. He arced over the Lich, spear stabbing down. The Ironwood tip slammed into the Lich’s shoulder, knocking the thing off balance and disrupting its casting. Hall landed and pivoted, jabbing out with the spear. He caught the Lich in the chest, slicing through the rotting robe and pushing the Lich back.
He pulled its Status Bar, seeing only about one-eighth of its life gone.
“The Firbolg,” Hall shouted to Leigh as he jabbed at the Lich again.
The Lich would be a tough opponent, Hall knew. Having the Firbolg Hunter up and helping in the fight was needed especially with the group split up among three tough enemies.
The glowing green eyes of the Undead Shaman stared at him with hatred, the creature not uttering a sound. It staggered back with each jab of the ironwood spear. Small bits of health dropping. Hall knew he had to keep it from being able to cast a spell.
The Lich staggered as Angus slammed into the back of the creature. It fell forward, Hall stepping out of the way, falling to the ground. Hall stabbed out with his spear, scoring repeated hits as Angus stomped down hard on the Lich’s bony legs. The cracks were audible, as were the moans of the creature.
Moaning loudly, the Lich jerked his hand and Hall felt the rush of wind blast through the trees. It hit him with force, lifting him up and throwing him ten feet through the air. He landed hard, rolling to a stop, barely holding onto his spear. His Heath Bar flashed red, a bit of Health disappearing. Angus mooing was loud, ending in a pained cry, as the small and shaggy cow was slammed into the side of the tower.
Hall pushed himself up, using his spear. The impact had hurt, the ground hard and unyielding. Grass brushed against his face as he stood up to see the Lich staring at him with the glowing green eyes. Hall could almost feel the hate in that gaze. The bony fingers moved in intricate motions that should not have been possible.
Light flared as the fingers carved through the air and a line of fire shot out.
Diving to the side, Hall felt the heat of the blast. It scorched the earth, burning away the grass, leaving a black smudge of ash. In one smooth motion, Hall stood up, pulling the javelin from the harness across his back and let it fly. The weapon soared through the air, slamming into the Lich’s chest where it stuck, caught between bones. More health dropped from the Lich’s bar, but it still had plenty left.
Moaning in a way that sounded like a growl, the Lich slashed a hand through the air sharply, the other weaving another pattern. Hall braced himself, ready to move one way or the other, or stand still and try not to be blown away. Yorsif the Lich had so far shown itself as having a fire spell and a wind spell. Hall couldn’t remember enough about the Shaman class to know at what Level those spells were granted, and there was no way to know what Rank they were.
A bright ball of light shot out, not in a straight line but staggering as Hall moved. The ball seemed to follow him as he dove to the right. It slammed into his chest, his cry of shock loud. Pain spread throughout his body, spasms of strange energy. It didn’t feel like electricity but it behaved somewhat the same. A chill filled his bones, cramping his muscles. At the same time, he felt a jolt of adrenaline. His body wanted to move, but the chill would not let him.
What the hell, he thought, having never felt the effect before.
He had been hit with all the different kinds of magic during the years he played Sky Realms Online. The game system had dampened the pain so it was barely even noticeable, but it had translated the effects so the Player felt them. A fire spell caused a slight burning sensation, cold would make the Player shiver.
What he had just felt was new.
After training, Sabine had mentioned three new types of magic, one of them being Arcane. Had he just felt his first Arcane spell?
It had taken a decent amount of his Health away.
Another gust of near hurricane-force winds blew through the area, slamming Angus against the stone wall of the tower when the cow had charged in at the Lich. Angus hit hard and did not move this time.
Moving quickly, the Lich cast another glowing ball of light. It streaked toward Hall, who knew he could not avoid it. He braced himself for the pain.
The earth rumbled at his feet, a wall of dirt and roots shooting up in front of him. The ball of light slammed into the earthen wall, sparks erupting and streaking across the surface. The wall shook hard, the section where the ball hit pushed out, pieces of dirt falling back to the ground.
He looked over at Leigh, standing up above the wounded Firbolg who was struggling to stand. She nodded and turned to face the Lich, casting a Splinter Storm. The shards of wood shot out from her staff, slamming into Yorsif. Hall stood up and used Leap. He jumped over the earthen wall, over the Lich, stabbing down with his spear.
The Lich had raised its ratty and threadbare robe, catching many of the splinters. Some got through but not enough to do real damage. But Yorsif was not ready to defend against Hall’s Leaping Stab or his attack of opportunity when he landed.
Both blows landed solid hits, chunks of the Lich’s Health disappearing.
Yorsif tried to turn, to face Hall and start casting, but could not as grass and roots crawled up its bony legs. It struggled to lift its legs, an angry moan as bony claw-like fingers reached down to pull at the grass and roots. The javelin still sticking out of its body hindered its movements, preventing it from pulling up all the grass.
Wishing he had a Bashing weapon, Hall jabbed his spear at the Lich’s neck bone. The ironwood tip, hard as steel, grazed the bone, taking chips off. Hall cursed. He had hoped to take a good chunk off, weaken the bone. Instead, he just made the Lich angry.
It turned quickly, unnaturally fast, bony arm outstretched. It grabbed the spear and pulled, yanking Hall forward. The Lich was strong, Hall now off balance. He dug his feet into the ground and let the spear go. With no resistance now, Yorsif lurched back. An arrow slammed against the Lich’s skull, scratching the bone as it skidded off to the side.
The Firbolg Hunter was back in the fight.
Hall drew his short sword as the Lich’s attention turned to the Hunter. Flames shot out, two streaks heading for Leigh and the Firbolg. Both moved aside, the fires hitting the trees, scorching bark and burning away leaves. Luckily, the magical fire did not set the wood ablaze. Hall swung out with the flat of his blade, connecting with the Lich’s shoulder, pushing the creature back.
EXCEPTIONAL SHORT SWORD
OF FIGHTING
Damage 2d4 (+3)
Agility: +2
Strength: +1
Durability 15/20
Weight: 5 lbs.
A quick glance at the weapons stats showed that striking the magically hardened bones had knocked a point of durability off the sword. Hall cursed. The sword was a good weapon. Rare level, the stats showed Blue. It would be a while before he found something better. He couldn’t afford to keep smacking at the Lich with it.
He needed his spear back. The Lich had tossed it aside, standing between Hall and his main weapon. No space to get around between it and the tower, and going in front would be to invite an attack. A screech from above told him that Pike was circling, waiting for a chance to attack.
Perfect, Hall thought and mentally gave the dragonhawk instructions.
The Lich turned back toward him and he jabbed out with the sword, the Lich moving aside to avoid the blow. Hall swung the sword to the side, the Lich again moving. Deliberately keeping the attacks slow, the Lich could easily avoid them.
A screech filled the air, the sound of something diving from above. The Lich looked up and caught a blue-white lightning bolt in the face. Pike’s attack sent exploding sparks everywhere, lines of lighting across the creature’s skull. The brightness flared and disappeared.
The green eyes still stared out from the skull’s eye sockets, strong as ever, but the bleached white of the skull itself was blackened with small cracks across the surface. Hall wished they had lightning attacks, either Leigh high enough in Level or their own Shaman. The damage that Pike’s small breath attack had done was more than anything the others had managed.
With another screech, Pike came in for a second attack. The Lich moved its hands quickly and Hall felt the force of the wind gust against his back. It struck Pike, the dragonhawk unable to withstand the wind’s pressure and was blown off course. Flipping end over end, Pike was pushed into the trees. Hall watched as leaves exploded out as the dragonhawk was thrown through the branches, the sound of limbs cracking and breaking.
He mentally reached out to Pike. The dragonhawk was hurt, battered, but alive.
Thankful, the attacks had done what Hall needed, as he dove to the ground and rolled past the Lich. He sprang up, reaching out and grabbing his spear. Leigh launched a Splinter Storm just as he rolled past, all of the wooden shards striking the Lich. Its Health bar was down just below half now.
Hall could hear the sound of fighting from the sides as the others dealt with the Shambling Craobhs. He had hoped those fights would have ended quicker and they could have attacked the Lich with more numbers.
Sky Realms Online had always had a friendly fire component, where ranged and magical attackers had to be aware of their allies or else catch the allies in the crossfire as all fought against the same target. In old MMORPGs, it hadn’t mattered. Allies had been safe from friendly fire, and everyone could attack at the same time. Sky Realms had changed that, added a sense of realism to how things were targeted.
Hall was preventing Leigh from launching more Splinter Storm attacks or the Hunter from firing more arrows. He could easily be caught in those attacks.
More melee would have been good. Someone to attack from the Lich’s blind side where the flanking bonuses would apply.
