CPC-02. Couch Potato Crisis, page 44
part #2 of Couch Potato Chronicles Series
“I am but one man, and there are many more with greater skill than I. Another will take my place.”
“Then go in peace.” The count faded into the fog. With that, Kegan’s sense of duty to Adreála was gone. His love for his people remained, but the sense of obligation had left him.
Moments later the third and final vision appeared before him. It was a human any elf would recognize instantly: Queen Aralynn Murderjoy, ruler of Zhakara. He’d never seen the human ruler in person, but her visage was well-known and frequently reproduced throughout Etheria.
The bitter queen crossed her arms and glowered. “General Kegan. You should know that I’m the one who gave the order to destroy the Crystal Keep. I personally killed your wife dozens of times over. I’m the reason she’s now a broken woman.”
“Be silent, human filth,” he said.
The ghostly queen circled him. Kegan squeezed Gwenestry’s hand in his own for reassurance. She squeezed back in response, an offering of reciprocated comfort he so sorely needed.
“Once I was done killing her and taking her XP, I sent her to Ironfall to be used as a toy for the amusement of powerful humans. I made her into a showpiece, a pretty thing to show off to the other nobles. A delicate toy to be played with and snapped apart.”
“Why do you do this to us, human? Why can’t you simply leave us be?”
Murderjoy laughed. “Because it is the prerogative of the strong to rule the weak, and mankind will always be stronger than subhumans like you. Humans have the will to grow and dominate, a quality elves lack.”
A heavy weight pressed against Kegan’s heart. He felt again for the reassuring touch of his wife’s hand but it was no longer there. He clenched only empty air. Where was she?
The queen drifted closer and looked him in the eye. “And it wasn’t just your wife I tormented, but thousands like her. Elves exist only to serve humans—as slaves or as a source of XP. Your kind will never be free of us. And with you gone, your conquest will be all the easier.”
Kegan shook his head. “My people will resist you. Even after I’m gone, they will resist.”
But that wasn’t enough to dismiss the apparition. Murderjoy grinned. “You want to know the best part? When I killed her, I enjoyed every second. There is nothing more therapeutic than slaughtering someone weaker than you.”
He looked at his empty hand. “Where my wife is now, you cannot touch her. She’s free of you now, human.”
The queen put her hands on her hips. “Ah, but are you?”
He trembled in rage. In the moment when he was forced to confront his emotions, he found he despised humanity with every fiber of his being. To leave, he had to let this go. Would he have to forgive her? How the hell could he do something like that?
He tried to force out the words, “I forgive you,” but couldn’t. Some people were beyond forgiveness, and some sins couldn’t be forgotten. The words caught in his throat.
The queen laughed. “Nothing to say to me, elf?”
How could he forgive the humans after everything they had done to his people? Or for what they did to his wife? Forgiveness was an uncrossable chasm.
Say the words! Just say them and mean them for a single moment and be free of your hate. It’s the only way to join her in Tír na nÓg.
But his own urging wasn’t enough. Minutes passed.He kept trying to force the words of forgiveness, but they refused to form. His hatred became a crushing weight on his heart. Finally, he said, “Never. I will never forgive humanity. I will never forgive you, Murderjoy. If it takes me the rest of my days, I will see every human forced to pay for their sins against elvenkind! Your people will suffer as we have. And every man, woman, and child in Zhakara will know my hatred!”
The apparition vanished and the fog dissipated. He stood alone in the boat with the ferryman. A set of elven dresses lay at the bottom of the wooden boat. Gwenestry had left for Tír na nÓg, but his heart remained too heavy with hatred to make the journey.
The boat began its journey back toward the pier.
“What did I do wrong?” asked Kegan. “Why am I still here?”
The ferryman sighed. “I’m sorry, general. You weren’t able to let go of your attachments to this world.”
“But I have to go! I can’t leave my wife alone.”
The boat slowly approached the shore. “You can try again. Sometimes the unburdening of the soul takes more than one attempt. Take a few moments to think about what you saw and you can give it another try.”
After the boat docked, he walked to a bench facing the ocean and sat.
To leave this world behind, he’d have to forgive Murderjoy. Forgive all humans. He’d do it for Gwen, but he didn’t know how. His hatred was oppressive. Maybe it had always been there and this was simply the first time he was self-aware enough to acknowledge it.
Against the beach, the waves of the ocean came in and out in an endless cycle. Kegan was a warrior who led men and women into combat. He knew how to kill, but this enemy was beyond him. How do you kill hate?
The Entropy quest prompt appeared in his field of vision for the second time in the last hour. He was about to hit the “Decline” button as he had the last dozen times but this time he hesitated and read over the quest.
Quest: The Knight of Entropy (Part 1)
Entropy, the God of Chaos and Disorder, has offered you the chance to become his knight. If you succeed, you will be given a new class, a unique piece of equipment, and multiple powerful abilities.
Conditions for success: Kill one thousand people in cold blood
Conditions for failure: None
Rewards:
The title “Knight of Entropy”
unique classes Dark Knight, Lich, and Warlock will be unlocked.
Unique abilities will become available.
Unique item “The Veil of Untethered Light”.
Accept or Decline?
Why was Entropy so insistent he accept this quest? Every time it appeared, he’d tapped “Decline”, but the snake god asked unceasingly, over and over. How many hundreds of times had he clicked “Decline”?
He stared at the quest prompt until someone called out from behind him. “Hey you! No loitering!”
He turned to confront the angry orc approaching him. On his back, the rough orcish soldier carried an imposing warhammer. The orc’s entire demeanor changed as soon as he recognized who Kegan was. “General Kegan! Shit. I’m so sorry, sir. Didn’t realize that it was you.”
Kegan narrowed his eyes as he studied the orc. “Do we know each other?”
“Oh no, general. We’ve never met, and you certainly wouldn’t recognize me, and I only know you by reputation. My name is Borgrim Deathhammer. I served on the front lines during the last war.”
The orc extended his right hand. “I’m your biggest fan. You’re famous. I mean you killed more humans using your wits than anyone. Please, let me shake your hand, general.”
Kegan stood and took the orc’s hand. “I’m not sure I’m anyone to be admired.”
“Nonsense! With you on our side, the enemy doesn’t stand a chance.”
Kegan said, “I’m curious—Borgrim, is it? What have you been doing since the war ended?”
Borgrim frowned. “I became a lawyer.”
The half-elf shook his head and placed a comforting hand on the orc’s shoulder. “I am so, so sorry.”
“I was thinking about signing up again. Maybe get out there and kill some humans now that war’s back on.”
Kegan looked again at the quest prompt that appeared before him. The barest edges of an idea took form. He swallowed and took a deep breath. If he went down this route, he could never go back. He’d never see his wife again.
If he accepted, he’d be working against the laws and traditions of Adreála. He’d always shown absolute loyalty to Lord Sigrid, but that loyalty no longer bound him, stripped away as it had been by the ritual.
Whatever the cost, he’d make the humans pay. Ending his final moment of hesitation, he reached out and tapped “Accept.” The quest prompt vanished and a new counter appeared in his HUD indicating the number of people he’d killed in cold blood. There was also a timer counting down from one hour. The quest didn’t say anything about a time limit! How was he expected to murder a thousand people in cold blood in less than an hour? He’d need to speed up his timetable.
As a rule, no one could receive an incompletable quest. There was always some way to finish it. Lord Entropy must have had faith Kegan could kill that many people within the limited timeframe.
“Borgrim, you’re an orc with a battlehammer. You should be out there on the battlefield.” Kegan put on his most charming smile and leaned in. “Listen, I need your help.”
“What can a lowly grunt like me do for a great man like you?”
“I have an idea how we can deal a crippling blow to the humans, but it's a two man job. I need you with me to do this.”
“Whatever it is, count me in.” Borgrim’s smile was wide.
“You don’t want to know the details?”
“No. As long as I get to kill humans again, nothing else matters.”
“What I have in mind will require you to act outside the strict confines of Questgivrian law.”
The orc frowned and shook his head. “Not a problem.”
For a lawyer, Borgrim had answered too quickly, but he let it slide. He needed an assistant to pull this off.
“We’ll need to stop by the Adreálan archives. There’s an item I must retrieve for what I have planned. After that, we’re headed straight for the heart of Zhakara.”
“Understood, General.”
Using his warp ability, Kegan transported them to Adreála.
Kegan stepped away from the archives, approaching Borgrim.
The orc cleared his throat. “Get what you needed?”
The half-elf general gave him a curt nod. “I thought it would be more difficult, but I have it here.” He held a vial of red liquid.
Borgrim inspected the vial. “Health potion?”
“It’s a modified version of a human city-killer weapon. They’d meant to use it against us before we got a hold of it and made our own.”
“What does it do?”
“Were I to remove the stopper or shatter the vial, it would release a microscopic agent, carried by magic into the lungs of every human within ten miles. It devours them from the inside, ripping apart their internal organs. No matter how strong or high level the target, this weapon makes short work of them.”
The orc tilted his head and looked at the object from different angles. “It still looks like a health potion to me.”
Kagan stowed the vial in one of his inventory quick-slots. “Let’s get going, Borgrim.”
“Are you as bored as I am?” Nozzo leaned against his pike by the entrance to Ironfall.
His partner, Garven, narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Not really. Unlike you, I brought some reading material.”
“Hey, Garven, do you see that green looking thing running at us?”
“Looks like an orc to me.”
“You’re right. It’s a big one too. Look at him go! I think he’s holding some sort of weapon above his head.”
“That he is, Nozzo. I think they call that a warhammer. It’s a traditional orcish made weapon that deals heavy blunt damage.”
“He certainly is running toward us fast. Very very fast. You don’t think we should be concerned about this, do you?”
“About a single heavily armed orc who is charging the city gates? I think being concerned about this is basically our entire job description, Nozzo.”
“You don’t seem worried.”
“Ever met an orc in Zhakara higher than level 1 or 2? He doesn’t pose a threat to us. Oh, look. He’s just coming into range. Give ‘em a scan, Nozzo.”
Nozzo stared at the orc for a few seconds before turning to his partner. “Says that’s a level 69 berzerker.”
“So, basically, we’re screwed?”
“That we are, Garven, that we are.”
“Should we run?”
“Too late for that now. Oh look, now he’s throwing his weapon at you. Why would anyone throw a melee weapon? Garven?”
But his friend had been reduced to a corpse by the flying warhammer and Nozzo himself subsequently died from an acute case of strangled-to-death-by-an-enraged-orcish-lawyer. Busy as he was confronting his own unfortunate circumstance, Nozzo didn’t notice the speedster elf who darted past him into the city gates.
Well done, Borgrim. Kegan zipped through the city streets. The timer read twenty-one minutes. His plan was simple: get as close to the city center as possible and deploy the poison. In theory, all he had to do was smash it open to release the gas and the pre-cast spell to distribute it.
He’d collected enough time to use haste for an extended period, but his mana supply was running low. No matter, it would be enough to get him where he needed to go. He’d maximize the range if he reached the city center.
His speed was so accelerated the world around him appeared frozen in place. To anyone who might have been looking, he’d appear as a brief, momentary distortion of the air. He was moving much too fast to be seen directly.
His cached time was running low, but he was nearly at his target. Before reaching it, however, a familiar face caught his eye. He slowed to a stop, the world still frozen around him, then walked up to the familiar human. Marnie. Kegan had hoped Marnie would still be in Ironfall, but he hadn’t expected to actually see the distasteful human. Marnie held the end of a leash attached to an elven girl’s collar. The man had certainly wasted no time before finding more elves to abuse.
This was close enough. Kegan returned his subjective flow of time to its normal operation.
Marnie yelped and backed away at the suddenly visible elf. “Who the hell are you? What do you mean going out in public wearing such quality clothing, and unaccompanied by your master?”
Kegan stood and removed an item from his inventory. “If you are so offended, human, why not do something about it?”
“Well…”
“Just what I thought,” he said. “This place is naught but a den of cowards.”
“You may be higher level than me, but the guards will be here any minute.”
Kegan smiled. “Let them come, but they shan’t arrive swiftly enough to save you.”
He smashed the vial onto the stone at his feet. It shattered, releasing a thick green gas that sped at magically enhanced speed into every home, every hovel, every place of business. The spell was designed to seek out humans and spread the gas in the most efficient way possible.
A thin thread of the gas forced its way into Marnie’s nostrils. His eyes widened and his hand went to his throat.
“What have you done?” His voice was raspy. Other humans on the street collapsed to the ground. A woman and her small child fell.
Kegan felt a moment of pity, but forced it away. “It’s no worse a fate than you and your kind deserve.”
All about the plaza, humans fell, clutching at their throats. Kegan watched in detached amusement, focused on the quest counter in the upper right corner of his HUD. It still read zero people murdered in cold blood. Then, after several seconds, it ticked up to 1, then 2, then the number began to rise at a precipitous rate. Seconds later it read 90, then 200, then 500.
Marnie gasped. “Why?”
The half-elf knelt to look him in the eyes. “Because you deserve it. You used us, slaughtering us as though we were disposable things. Someone like you tormented my love. Your race is a pox upon this world, human.Now our roles are reversed. We will slaughter your kind for sport and experience while you serve at the whims of elven masters. Doesn’t that sound like justice, human?”
“Please!” he forced the word out before collapsing. His quest counter ticked up. Now it was at 980. Finally it reached 1000, passing it completely. By the time the quest completion message appeared, the counter was at 2200.
Congratulations!
Quest Completed: The Knight of Entropy (Part 1)
Title gained: The Knight of Entropy
Class Unlocked: Lich
Class Unlocked: Dark Knight
Class Unlocked: Warlock
Ability Gained: Rapid Leveling
Ability Gained: Stat Shuffle
Item received: The Veil of Untempered Light
A mask made of thin fabric appeared in his hands. He’d done it. He’d killed the people who had so tormented his love. But that hardly meant he was done.
The elven slave woman looked up at him, and the leash on her neck fell to the ground, next to her former master. “Who are you?” she asked. Several other elven slaves approached cautiously.
Kegan brought the Veil of Untempered Light up over his face. Light poured off the mask, blending into the surrounding air. A buff appeared in his HUD reading, “Immune to Scan.”
He glanced at the elven woman who’d asked his name. He couldn’t call himself Kegan. If it became common knowledge a Questgivrian general had set off a weapon of mass destruction in Zhakara, they might retaliate. He’d have to leave the name Kegan behind him. When he spoke through the mask, it had the effect of mechanizing and distorting his voice. “I no longer have a name. You may call me The Knight of Entropy. I am the new master of Ironfall.”
“You’re an elf…like us,” said a slave boy.
“Boss!” An orc ran into the plaza. “All the humans just... died.” Borgrim checked himself, appearing startled. “Wow, that’s a really freaky mask.”
“I know. From now on, you must leave my old name behind. Call me The Knight of Entropy.”
“Understood Key… I mean Knight of Entropy, sir. What are your orders?”
“There isn’t much time before the humans resurrect. I’d say we have less than an hour.”
“Are we going to lead all of the slaves to freedom?”
Kegan shook his head, “No. We’re taking control of this city.”
“How?” asked the elven woman who’d spoken to him before. He checked her nametag in his HUD. It read, “Shona.”
