PA-01. Den Of Thieves, page 11
part #1 of Pantheon Online Series
It wasn’t much better down below, but at least, then, the thief could help fight.
Focusing his vision and calming his breath, Gunnar let another throwing blade fly.
Kohli dropped a couple inches as the rope frayed. But it was not a direct hit, and about half of the rope remained intact. Gunnar chucked two more knives, but missed both times. As Kohli shifted around, the rope slowly began to unravel, bearing him closer and closer to the Fulcra below.
The chanting and drumming continued.
A loud cry pulled his attention from Kohli. The necromancer had freed himself of the redhead’s rope and now had her pinned down, bare bony knees pressed into her neck.
Gunnar gritted his teeth and sprinted across the stage.
Angus looked up just as Gunnar tackled him to the ground. The two of them rolled across the stage, arms and legs thrashing. For such a wiry man, Angus was tough to pin. Or maybe Gunnar was still just that weak. Gunnar let the man squirm away. He reached for a throwing blade, but came up empty.
Damn!
He settled for a dagger from his belt.
Just as he was about to throw it, a skeletal hand latched onto his boot from behind. His vision blurred and his feet were wrenched out from under him. One of the Fulcra from below the stage had managed to reach him from the floor. Gunnar kicked but the Fulcra was clamped on like a vice. Sharp, bony fingers dug into his ankle.
Angus grinned a short distance away as he formed long tendril-like fingers into a spell sign. Visible blue magic emanated from his fingers, and the other creatures from the floor ceased their chanting and began to claw toward Gunnar, a wall of skeleton limbs reaching for him.
Gunnar kicked and tried to roll away with all his might, but several creatures latched onto his feet and his clothes, dragging him toward the edge of the stage. Bony appendages tore at his skin, and his Health began to drop as one of them drove a shard of bone into his leg.
Gunnar’s heart raced. He was about to fail again. About to wake up to a mind-numbing shock. About to work his ass off back in prison only to respawn back in this damn crypt.
But just as Gunnar reached the edge, the creatures’ grips slackened. Gunnar jerked his body forward and flung himself out of reach. The Fulcra backed away from the edge of the stage and quickly started shuffling toward the sets of stairs on either end of the platform.
When Gunnar turned back, he realized why.
Angus was on fire.
Flames shot all across his schoolboy suit jacket and down his arms and back. The redhead was grinning maniacally as the necromancer/bard writhed and thrashed around the stage, apparently having never been taught to stop, drop, and roll.
Fulcra began to stagger up the stage steps. The two massive creatures who had been manning the drums had quit their pounding and gathered around a screaming Angus.
“Water! Get some fucking water!” Angus’s dying voice sounded even worse than his singing.
Gunnar reached the redhead and freed her from her bindings. He was impressed she’d managed to light Angus on fire while still bound.
“Thanks,” she said.
“All right, my turn to be rescued!” Kohli shouted.
Exasperated, Kohli still dangled above the stage, though no Fulcra were trying to reach him any longer. All of them were gathering around their master, trying feebly to assist. Several of them got too close and ignited themselves.
With a flick of his wrist, Gunnar launched a dagger, and Kohli dropped. Straight into the redhead’s arms. The sight of them both in their archaic skivvies made Gunnar chuckle despite the horrific circumstances.
“Put me down! Put me down! I don’t need you to bloody catch me!” Kohli glared at the redhead, and she dropped him instantly. Too instantly. He nearly toppled as his bare feet hit the ground.
“Nice of you to leave me hanging there,” Kohli said, huffing as he turned to Gunnar.
“Sorry, there’s only one of me and a whole lot more of them.”
“It’s all well and good when you’re not the one dangling like meat over a lion’s den. I only have 10% Health left! She’s got… well, plenty more than that!”
There was a giant splash as the Fulcra drummers dumped huge jugs of water over Angus’s head, followed by a loud hiss and a plume of smoke as the fire went out.
There was no more time to argue.
Angus turned toward them, a furious mess of singed clothes and charred flesh.
But he managed to form his fingers into a spell sign, and his Fulcra charged.
Gunnar tossed Kohli one of the Health potions he’d found earlier and led the way back to the room full of loot as Angus and his Fulcra chased after them. The three of them pulled the door closed, and Kohli rammed the shaft of a spear through the handle.
The thud of skeletons crashing against the door made clear it would not hold for long. The spear clattered against the crude iron handle, and Gunnar wasn’t sure whether the spear or the door handle would break first.
The redhead ignited a torch while the groans of Fulcra beyond the door echoed. It sounded as though they were breaking their own bones against the stone.
Torchlight flashing across her face, the young woman grinned as she turned to Gunnar. Despite the spells written in her own blood, he couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was. He guessed she was in her early twenties. Her flushed skin was specked with light freckles, and green eyes sparked with confidence as she lit a second torch with the flames from her own and handed it to Gunnar.
“Good thinking lighting him on fire,” Gunnar said.
She shrugged. “Figured it would keep them all distracted long enough.”
“Barely,” Kohli said, eyeing the door.
“You a fire mage, then?” Gunnar asked.
She smirked. “Right, cuz of the hair? You don’t have a lot of creativity, do you?”
Her voice was also remarkably attractive considering she was making fun of him. She had a lilting accent, but he couldn’t quite place it. He thought it might have actually been unique to the game, but he didn’t really have the international experience to know for sure.
Gunnar shrugged. “Take that as a no, then?”
The redhead held up the flint she’d used to light the first torch. “I tackled him into one of those cauldrons from his show.”
“Look, can we save the bloody pleasantries for later?” Kohli asked, still wearing nothing but his skivvies. “That spear is about to break.”
“Your friend’s a bit bent out of shape, isn’t he?” The redhead smirked at Gunnar again.
“It’s been a hell of a day,” Gunnar murmured. “But he’s right. We should go. I know the way to the other exit. Kohli, grab another spear, and we can wedge the other door to this room shut on our way out.”
Without a word of acknowledgement, the redhead retreated to the backstage door they’d come through.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kohli demanded.
She stooped down in front of the rattling door. There were some roots or something sticking out of the crumbling walls, and she pressed her hands against one of them. There was a soft luminescence around her fingers, and the roots began to expand in an instant, sending tendrils of new shoots spreading all across the doorway, twisting around the handle and then climbing up into cracks in the stone on the other side of the door.
It still rattled, but far less now. The Fulcra groaned from the room beyond, and Gunnar heard Angus hollering an unintelligible order.
“That ought to buy us some time,” she said, sauntering past them and glancing around the room. “I think my clothes are somewhere in here.”
Gunnar laughed. “Oh, that reminds me…” He pulled Kohli’s clothes from his Inventory and handed them over.
Kohli quickly slipped into his pants and pulled his shirt and cloak over his head. Though still irritable, he managed a slight nod. “Uh, thanks.”
“I would have grabbed yours too,” Gunnar said, turning back to the redhead, who was sifting through some shabby clothes on one of the tables nearby, “but I didn’t know which ones they were. I brought a cloak, though.” He pulled that out of his Inventory too.
The redhead took it and smiled, but she promptly set it down. “Appreciate the thought, but I think I know where they put mine.” She moved to the far corner of the room.
The girl had the build of a track athlete, tall and lean and impressively muscular. Gunnar glanced away, feeling a little awkward now that she was the only one without clothes. He began sifting through some of the items, searching for more throwing blades.
“So, er, what’s your name anyway? I’m Gunnar, and this is Kohli.”
“Em,” she said.
“Short for what? Emily? Emilia?”
“Just Em.”
“And you gave me crap for creativity?” Gunnar quipped. He spotted a couple daggers and stowed them on his belt.
Em turned back and smiled again. She’d found her clothes and quickly slipped them on. She returned, wearing what looked like a black ninja getup with the hood pulled down.
“Alright, boys, let’s go.”
They crossed the room and returned to the main corridor of the crypt. Gunnar was about to close the second door behind them when Kohli grabbed his arm.
“Why’s it so quiet?”
Gunnar hadn’t realized that the Fulcra had quit rattling against the backstage door until Kohli called his attention to it.
It was deathly silent. They turned to Em, who was glancing into the looming darkness of the chamber.
“Uh, don’t bother barricading that door,” Em said, grimacing.
She pointed further down the corridor. Gunnar had been so distracted when they’d reached this place—what with Kohli getting captured—he hadn’t paid attention to the fact that the corridor continued on into the depths of the crypt.
A faint light glowed from around a corner far down the corridor. And then, Gunnar heard the distant clatter of bones against stone. There must have been another way out of that ceremonial chamber.
Em, Kohli, and Gunnar all glanced at each other.
Em grinned.
Gunnar nodded.
And Kohli groaned. “I am so sick of this place.”
Without another word, they ran.
18
CRYPT KEEPER
They didn’t bother with any degree of Stealth. Torches held high, they hurried as fast as they could through the winding corridors of the crypt, back the way Gunnar and Kohli had come earlier.
By the time they reached the chamber where Gunnar had left Kohli while he scouted ahead, Gunnar was panting for breath and his Stamina was below 50%. He was glad he’d leveled up his Endurance, or he really would have been screwed.
But none of them were in good enough condition to keep this up for much longer, and Gunnar did not want to have to face a horde of Fulcra while low on Stamina.
The stone echoed loudly with the approaching undead, bones clacking hollowly as they loomed somewhere in the winding caverns behind them.
“I don’t think those bastards are shuffling anymore,” Kohli said, breathing heavily.
“Not much farther,” Gunnar said, panting hard. “We’ve fought those things. They’ve got Stamina just like we do. They can’t run forever either.”
“Unless that asshole is using a more powerful spell,” Kohli said.
Gunnar shook his head, more out of hope than certainty. “It’s gotta be taking all he’s got to keep that horde moving.”
Em grimaced. “I hope you’re right.”
Something wasn’t adding up. Even if the man’s Health had no impact on his ability to form spells, there had to be something more going on than just his Mana pool. Gunnar just didn’t know what.
The corridor that led to the massive burial hall was narrow and run-down, with large chunks of stone that had crumbled into the walkway, forcing them to slow their pace to a fast walk.
Gunnar was fairly certain the clacking was getting louder behind them, though every time he turned back, all he saw was that glow coming from beyond whatever corner they’d just turned. He tried to focus on calming his heavy breathing, syncing it with his pace.
He’d dated a track girl in college who had really wanted to get him to like running.
Just focus on a steady rhythm, she had told him as he panted desperately and tried and failed to keep up with her.
It hadn’t worked for shit, but anything was worth a shot now. His lungs were screaming from the fight and escape, but as he focused, the pain seemed to fade a little.
An unexpected notification appeared.
Unlocked Skill: Mindful Breathing
Skill Type: Mental, Race-based
Linked Attribute: Constitution (+60% Development)
Level: 6
Cost: N/A
Requirements: Breath
Effect: Increases Stamina restoration rate by 20%
Description: Look at you, Zen Master! You can control your own body if you pay attention to it. Level this skill high enough and you might even shut off that damn voice in your head telling you you’re not good enough. But it won’t stop us from telling you!
Sonofabitch! Mindfulness? Come on! Are elves some sort of damn hippies in this game?
But he had to admit, the effect was noticeable.
It was not astronomically faster, but his Stamina climbed as he walked, his breathing steadied, his head cleared, and by the time they reached the burial hall, he was back up to 80%.
The clatter reached a roar behind them. They hurried across the length of the chamber, crossing several hundred yards, giant pillars of stone towering around them like a forest.
At the edge of the chamber, there was a distinct wooden doorway, but when Kohli tried the handle, it didn’t budge.
“I’m afraid you’ll be needing the key.”
The sudden voice made Gunnar spin around, but there was no one there. Though the glow was growing increasingly bright in the halls they’d come from.
“Up above you, dimwits!”
Gunnar glanced up. Three cages hung from the ceiling. They were semi-cylindrical with pointed tops, like gigantic birdcages. Two of them contained corpses well into the decomposition process, but the middle one held an elderly woman with long white hair and very pale skin. She looked a bit like an old Jaime Lee Curtis.
“Where can we get the key?” Gunnar shouted up to her.
Jaime Lee scowled. “From me, numbnuts! But I’ll be needing some help from you first.”
Kohli groaned. “We don’t have time for a damn side quest, lady. We’ve got an undead army on our tails.”
The clatter of the Fulcra was making it hard to talk.
“You’ll make time,” Jaime Lee said in a stern matronly tone, “if you want to escape. Get me down from here, and I’ll open the door.”
Quest Update - The Crypt Keeper
Description: Talk about bad timing for a side quest! The Crypt Keeper used to rule this place, until that little rock star wannabe took over. Now, she’s trapped. Let her down nice and careful, and you just might make it out of here.
Objective: Free the Crypt Keeper.
Reward: Get the keys to your freedom before that horde of Fulcra rip you apart like shredded beef. To think you came into this very room and could have made it out easy-peasy. But let’s be honest, this is way more interesting.
Do you wish to accept? Yes/No
Gunnar begrudgingly accepted.
“Angus just happened to give this old Crypt Keeper the keys?” Kohli asked exasperatedly.
Gunnar grunted. “It’s obviously just part of the script for this place.”
“So, how do you think we—”
But Kohli didn’t finish.
They both turned to find Em leaping up the nearest wall like a woodland creature, jumping from the top of a coffin up to a stone ledge about eight feet up, and then, she leapt again, up to one of the burial nooks that lined the entire room. She nearly slipped as she leapt from one nook to the next, and Gunnar could have sworn he heard a scraping sound, like claws, as she latched onto the wall to steady herself before continuing her way up.
Gunnar wondered whether his animal impression was actually founded in reality. When he had freed her back on the stage, she had landed with impressive grace for someone bound by the hands. Now, she leapt with ease and landed soft and easy between nooks, moving too fast for him to confirm whether the claws he’d heard were real or not.
He hit her with Scan.
Em (Just Em)
Level: 7
HP: 80/80
MP: 100/100
Race: Chimera
Clan: Gray Fox
Disposition: Friendly
Relationship: You Scratch My Back, I’ll Scratch Yours
Description: Part human, part fox. Like all low-level chimera, she’s still mostly human. But watch out for those claws!
Em climbed until she was about thirty feet up before pausing at a ledge, facing a nearby pillar.
“You’ve got this!” Gunnar shouted, suddenly filled with hope that she might make it in time.
Em took a breath, then jumped.
Her claws scraped against the side of the pillar, but she managed to latch onto a ridge of decorative stone encircling it.
The clacking of bones had reached a fever pitch, and Gunnar and Kohli turned their eyes away from their chimera companion to see dozens of creatures pouring through the chamber entrance.
19
THE HORDE
The Fulcra bore torches and an array of weapons—swords and warhammers, spears and clubs. Their master had unleashed his entire arsenal, though even in attack mode, they did not move terribly quickly. Probably due to Stamina limitations, as Gunnar had suspected. Few were over Level 5, but it didn’t matter a damn thing.
There were far too many for them to handle.
