PA-01. Den Of Thieves, page 25
part #1 of Pantheon Online Series
The two Red Cloaks spun, hands hovering at the hilts of their swords, but at the sight of his cloak, they relaxed.
Gunnar offered a salute and they returned it, then he walked over to greet them.
“Gods! You gave me a start,” one of them said.
“What’re you doing walking in the dark?” asked the other.
“Sorry, my torch winked out. Must have caught a draft a ways back.”
The Red Cloaks nodded, as though they had encountered this before.
“Here for dwarves,” Gunnar said. “Can you point me in the right direction?”
The taller of the guards glanced at his companion, then nodded. “Aye, they’re back down the hall you came from.”
“We’ll show you,” said the other.
The two Red Cloaks led the way back down the hall, the taller of them lighting the way with a lantern. There were stirrings from beyond the doors as they walked past. Whatever was within began hollering beneath gags and rattling chains.
“Exciting night,” Gunnar said as he followed the taller Red Cloak. The shorter one followed behind them.
The tall one grunted softly in answer.
“It’s been a long week,” the short one said. “And since that shipment was delayed, it put Dravingdel into a piss-poor mood about this party, had several of us out all last night hunting more lowlifes for this bloody show.”
“Only two dwarves,” said the tall one, pointing at a door halfway down the hall. “Too bad they’ll be used up in five minutes by the nobles.”
“The nobles look nice and tidy for such a bloodthirsty bunch, don’t they?” the short one asked with a laugh.
Gunnar nodded. The door was made of thick, solid wood, and Gunnar heard no noise coming from the other side.
“There were all kinds of things coming in on that ship,” said the tall one, fiddling with a big ring of keys and finally inserting one into the lock.
“Goblins from the Rancid Forests,” said the other. “Merfolk from the Dark Lagoon, elves from that bloody volcano.”
“What’re they called again?” asked the tall one.
“Maldan.” The door opened as the man spoke the name of Gunnar’s true clan, and just as Gunnar realized that the cell was empty, he felt a shove from behind.
He stumbled into the small room. Bracing himself against the back wall, he turned to face the guards. Both had already drawn their weapons.
Heart racing, Gunnar reached for the sword he had taken from the Red Cloak.
“Don’t think about it,” the tall guard said, aiming a crossbow at his head.
Gunnar froze.
“You know the punishment for impersonating a member of the city watch?” said the shorter of the two men as he stepped into the room. He pointed his sword at Gunnar’s chest and gestured to a pair of shackles hanging from the ceiling. “Hold up your hands.”
Gunnar obeyed.
The short man threw back Gunnar’s hood. “Maldan sw—”
But the man never finished. The moment Gunnar realized what was happening, he had drawn his Cloaked Dagger. The reach for his sword had only been a feint to distract them while he accessed his Inventory and activated the spell from the Crypt Keeper.
Gunnar plunged the invisible blade up through the man’s throat and into his skull.
[Critical Hit! You have dealt +50 Damage to Red Cloak Level 8.]
The short man slumped forward and Gunnar caught him, blood gushing all over. The taller guard instinctively let his bolt fly, but his companion shielded Gunnar from the shot. The bolt shuddered in the man’s back, and he dropped to the ground.
[You have defeated Red Cloak Level 8 with an assist from an enemy! Here’s 10 XP!]
As the tall guard frantically worked to load a second bolt, Gunnar let a throwing blade fly. It struck the man in the thigh, and he staggered back, dropping the crossbow onto the ground.
[You have dealt +20 Damage to Red Cloak Level 8.]
[You have triggered the effect Mortal Bleeding on Red Cloak Level 8!]
Now, Gunnar drew his sword and stepped over the dead guard. The remaining Red Cloak scrambled to get away. Unable to lift off the ground, he dragged himself, shrieking as blood poured from the wound and trailed behind him.
“You’re only going to make it worse, doing that,” Gunnar said.
The man kept pulling himself along.
“Damn it, man, don’t make me kill you.”
The Red Cloak’s chest was heaving, though he’d only made it a few yards down the hall.
“Stop!” Gunnar commanded.
And finally, the guard did. He was whimpering pitifully, though for once, Gunnar didn’t feel bad about what he’d done.
[You have dealt +10 Damage to Red Cloak Level 8.]
“That blade hit your femoral artery,” Gunnar said. “You’ll bleed out if you keep that up.”
“Just kill me and be done with it! Gods damn you!”
“I’m not going to kill you,” Gunnar said. “You’re going to drag your ass back to that cell. You’re going to tie a tourniquet around your leg, and you’re going to sit there with your dead buddy, applying pressure to that wound and thanking the gods that you’re still alive. You hear?”
The Red Cloak nodded.
“But first, you’re going to tell me where I can find my dwarves.”
44
PANDEMONIUM
After looting the Red Cloaks for a pair of daggers, some coins, and two more Potions of Minor Healing, Gunnar returned to the open chamber of the cellar. In the distance, he could hear a low roar from the world above. He cringed imagining the sort of game that poor goblin had endured with those dogs.
The noise set him on edge. More Red Cloaks would be coming soon to collect the next show. Cages and crates rattled and rumbled as he walked past them. A wild boar charged the door to its cage when Gunnar walked a little too close, and he was pretty sure there was a tiger or a lion in one of the others.
Em: What’s taking so long?
Gunnar: Ran into a delay with a couple Red Cloaks. Took care of it.
Em: Things are getting wild up here. Hurry up, before they come for your dwarves.
Gunnar: Working on it.
Em: Your buddy Kohli is awake. Saw him running around the house. Looking for you, I’d guess.
Gunnar: I’ll be up in a few minutes. Hopefully.
Em: Ah, shit. I gotta go.
Gunnar: What? What’s going on? Em?
But there was no reply. The noise from aboveground suddenly grew louder.
Gunnar just had to hope that Kohli didn’t figure out that Em had been the one to knock him out.
At the far end of the room, Gunnar found the cage he was looking for. A pair of dwarves sat in the center of the small space.
“Come to do the dirty?” a redheaded dwarf said. He looked strikingly similar to his brother Dimble.
Gunnar threw back his hood. “I’ll do you one better.”
“Nimble, what’s going on?” the other dwarf asked.
“Your brother sent me,” Gunnar said.
Nimble glared at Gunnar, then shook his head at his companion. “This must be some sort of sick Red Cloak joke, Nort. It’s time to face our fate. Let’s just hope they give us a chance at glory before the end. I en’t much of a fighter, but I’ll go out in a blaze if I must. Gods know, I won’t go home a broken man.”
Gunnar fumbled with the keys for a moment until he found the one the Red Cloak had pointed out to him. Thankfully, it worked. The cage door opened.
“You won’t be dying tonight,” Gunnar said. “Not if I can help it.”
He stooped through the low entrance and stepped into the cage. As he did, his hood fell back.
“A bloody elf?” Nimble demanded.
Nort’s eyes went wide. “Never seen an elven Red Cloak before.”
“Only thing worse than an elf,” Nimble began, “is can elf who bends over for the Red Cloaks.”
“Easy, easy,” Gunnar said. “Hasn’t the elf versus dwarf thing pretty much run its course, anyway? These humans have dumped on you same as me.”
“Ugh! You sound like my damn brother.”
Gunnar grunted with frustration. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Your brother was in a performing troupe, and saw me try to help some idiot who refused to bow before the nobles.”
“Good for him,” Nimble said. “I don’t believe a word you’ve said. You elves have always sided against us when it suits you.”
Gunnar dropped to a knee and began fiddling with Nort’s shackles first. “Dimble said you’ve got a family. That if you were to lose the use of your hands, they’d be in a bad place. So he offered me a quest.”
None of the keys on the ring seemed to be small enough for the shackles.
Nimble sighed. “Me brother always was a bleeding heart. Reckon he mighta been desperate enough to offer an impossible quest around the city. And you must be desperate too, if you’re the best he found. But you en’t no Red Cloak, I can tell that for damn sure.”
“Yeah?” Gunnar grunted, sifting through more keys.
“They got a separate key for the shackles, boy. Only the guards upstairs have it.”
“Shit,” Gunnar muttered, tossing the key ring aside.
He pulled out his lockpicks. The thin rods of metal slipped into the mechanism, and Gunnar carefully shifted them. Tension built as the rods ever so slightly brushed against the metal inside. He could feel something start to give, but just as it did, Nort shifted slightly, and both picks snapped.
“Leave it to my brother to send a professional,” Nimble muttered.
“Gods, hold still,” he commanded Nort. Shooting Nimble a glare, he added. “And you, stuff it.”
He slipped a new set of rods in and turned one over the other. The mechanism shifted, and he gave one of the rods a turn.
Snap!
There was a thunderous roar from the world above. But this was different. It didn’t sound like the climax of a show, bloody or not. This was the din of complete pandemonium. Shouts and screams and the thunder of frantic feet.
Gunnar: What the hell’s going on up there?
No response.
Gunnar’s nerves made it even harder to keep his fingers steady, and these tiny mechanisms were much more sensitive than the locks he’d tried at the training facility.
He snapped a third set of lockpicks the moment he turned them.
“Here, give me those.”
The sudden voice made him leap and grab for a dagger. Both of the dwarves yelped in surprise.
There was no laughter in Em’s voice. She stood there, still in full regal attire, though she looked a bit disheveled now. Without explanation, she grabbed the lockpicks from his hands and set to work on Nort’s shackles.
“Who’s she?” Nimble demanded.
“A friend,” Gunnar said.
“A bloody noble?” Nort asked.
“Shut up!” Em commanded the dwarves.
“What the hell are you doing down here? What’s going on topside?” Gunnar asked.
“You too! I’m trying to concentrate.”
Gunnar grimaced at the rebuke, but said no more.
Em gritted her teeth and maneuvered the picks carefully, twisting them slightly over one another, and with a soft click, Nort’s shackles fell away.
“Why didn’t you bring her down in the first place?” Nimble asked.
“What’s going on?” Gunnar demanded again.
“No time,” Em said. “You next.” She grabbed Nimble’s shackles and set to work. Twenty seconds later, both dwarves were free, and Em led the way out of the cage.
“As soon as you two get to the surface, run as fast as you can for the south wall. It’ll take you farthest away from the mayhem.” Em handed the dwarves her grappling hook and rope from her Inventory. “How high can you toss this?”
“Far enough,” Nimble said.
“We’ll lead the way,” Em said. “If there’s trouble, run for the wall and get yourself out.”
“I like her,” Nort said.
“Very capable,” Nimble said, shooting a pointed look at Gunnar.
Gunnar grabbed Em’s wrist. “What is going on up there?”
“Benton is dead.”
“What?” Gunnar demanded, but the moment he said it, he understood. “This wasn’t just some damn letter swap.”
Em shook her head. “The entire courtyard is going nuts. Dravingdel is trying to maintain order, but the nobles are freaking out.”
“That’s why Kohli was trying to stop me. To prevent an assassination.”
“We don’t have time for this, Gunnar. Your friend was talking to the Red Cloaks when I snuck away. They know we’re behind this. We’ve got to go. Now!”
The four of them hurried through the maze of captured creatures. Gunnar wished there was something he could do for the others imprisoned in this place, but he knew there was no time.
A clamor arose down the hall. A pounding sound, followed by voices. Gunnar glimpsed the glow of a torch and crimson cloaks down the hall of cells he’d come from.
Gunnar, Em, and the dwarves ducked behind a large crate and peeked around the side. The crate rumbled, sending shivers shooting up Gunnar’s spine. Something massive was inside that crate. Whatever it was let out a low growl.
They were close to the exit leading up to the gardens. But to reach that staircase, they would have to go out in the open.
The guards were not coming to the main chamber though. They stopped halfway down the hall. Right where Gunnar had left that Red Cloak bleeding out.
“We better just go for it,” Gunnar said, a wrenching dread in the pit of his stomach.
Angry voices chattered as they opened the door to the cell. Gunnar couldn’t tell for sure, but he guessed there were four or five Red Cloaks down there. More would come soon, and there were surely more at the surface. Though perhaps this business with Benton would keep most of them preoccupied up above.
“You lead the dwarves out,” Em said.
“What’re you going to do?”
Em smiled deviously. “Create a diversion.”
She began fiddling with the lock at the end of the crate they were hiding behind. She pulled out Gunnar’s lockpicks.
“These will probably work better,” Gunnar said, holding out the guard’s key ring.
“Nice,” Em said, trading him for his picks.
Gunnar equipped his throwing blades, then motioned for the dwarves to follow, and they stepped out into the open chamber, hurrying for the staircase.
As soon as they reached the stairs, there was a shout from the hall.
Gunnar glanced back to find several Red Cloaks hurrying toward them.
“Go!” Em shouted.
Gunnar led the way up the stairs, but he glanced back one last time to see Em open up the crate. Gunnar had never seen a wolf outside of a zoo, but this particular one was larger than any he’d ever seen, with a huge metal ring around its neck.
Gunnar had forgotten about the Crypt Keeper’s gift for Em, but she now stood on all fours in the full form of a fox.
The wolf sniffed her, then reared its head and charged toward the Red Cloaks.
45
CALL OF THE WILD
Em dashed over to another cage, and set to work on its lock. The guards cried out and drew their swords as the dire wolf barreled toward them. But Gunnar didn’t see the rest. He hurried up the steps with the dwarves in tow. Just as they neared the top, the metal door at the surface opened.
At a glimpse of crimson, Gunnar let two throwing blades fly. One struck the guard in the shoulder but the other hit his neck.
[Critical Hit! You have dealt +40 Damage to Red Cloak Level 9!]
[You have triggered the effect Mortal Bleeding on Red Cloak Level 9!]
Impressively, the guard did not collapse. He hollered out into the gardens, then reached to his belt and produced a green vial.
Gunnar leapt up the last few stairs, drawing his sword as he went. Before the man could down the healing potion, Gunnar plunged his blade through the man’s chest.
[You have defeated Red Cloak Level 9! Here’s 20 XP!]
The potion tumbled down the staircase with a clatter, but one of the dwarves deftly snatched it from the air and stowed it away. Gunnar grabbed his throwing blades, wiped the blood off on his cloak, and returned them to their sheaths.
Screams and growls echoed up from the cellar below as they emerged near a greenhouse at the edge of the party.
Dravingdel’s gardens were utter mayhem. Red Cloaks rushed around the fountain. Servants tried to calm frantic nobles. The Red Cloaks ordered people away from the dining area, where several bodies littered the ground in the midst of upturned tables. All the victims were regally dressed, but Gunnar could spot Benton’s huge feathery admiral’s hat lying on top of a table, even from a distance.
It wasn’t just Benton who died.
Gunnar quickly shed his crimson cloak and tossed it into the bushes. There was still a little blood that had leaked onto his servant’s uniform beneath, but considering what was going on below, he doubted it mattered.
He glanced back down the stairs. A Red Cloak appeared at the base, only to be mauled by a beast that Gunnar was pretty sure was a giant crustacean. A massive claw snatched the guard, and a gigantic blur charged past the door and out of sight.
Gunnar’s heart pounded, but he couldn’t help but marvel at what Em had orchestrated. There was no sign of her, in human or fox form.
Gunnar: We’re clear up here. Get out of there!
No response.
Cursing to himself, he pointed beyond the greenhouse, where the wall of the estate loomed in the darkness.
“You two, get going,” he ordered.
“What about you?” Nimble asked.
“I’m not leaving Em. We’ll find you on the other side.”
Nort and Nimble nodded, and the two dwarves trotted into the bushes and out of sight.
Gunnar hurried back down the staircase, body tensing as loud growls echoed from below. But he never reached the bottom.
In fox form, Em turned the corner at the base of the stairs and came dashing past him. A Red Cloak raced after, and Gunnar let a throwing blade fly.
