Lost Lands: The Game - Atlantis (12 page)

Callistra
watched the battle from the safety of the saloon balcony. Upon entering, she had slipped into the shadows and moved up the stairs to wait for the inevitable confrontation. Once the brigands drew their weapons and made their demands, she began casting a simple charm spell. It summoned all the rodents in the general vicinity to her aid. By the time Tariq made his move, she had hundreds of mice and rats at her beck and call. She pointed at the saloon floor. The rodents began climbing and biting on anyone that wasn’t her.

It was mayhem. It was chaos. It was glorious.

Tariq had taken a more direct approach. Disappearing into a cloud of smoke wasn’t magical, just a simple act of misdirection. Once he threw down the glass bead which contained the liquid smoke concoction, he just ducked down and slid behind the bar which placed him out of sight when the fight actually began. Peeking around the corner, the assassin watched the cleric in action. He was fine. Judging from his movements and gear, there wasn’t anyone in the saloon who would be able to stand toe to toe with him. The real bedlam began when the rodents arrived.

However, w
hen the door swung open and two new warriors stepped in, Tariq realized that the real power in Crooked Creek had joined the fray. The first man was huge, nearly as tall as the Norseman Bjǿrn. He wore a large two-handed axe strapped to his back and wore a cuirass of gleaming bronze. Considering the protective way the fearsome warrior stood in front and slightly to one side of the second figure, Tariq guessed that he must be a bodyguard for the older warrior. He was slightly balding with the grey hair and worry lines of wisdom at his temples. Tariq absentmindedly noted that his chainmail sparkled in the light of the saloon lanterns.

Tariq thought,
‘Bodyguard first.’

Pulling out his
Katar of Venom, he twisted the gem until it turned blue which indicated a very potent sleep toxin derived from a rare flower only harvested during midsummer in the Crags. He nearly fumbled his dagger when he realized that he shouldn’t have known that but he did. Just another example of the twin minds at war within his own psyche. Regaining control of himself, Tariq slipped out from behind the bar. Keeping low, he moved slowly so as not to draw attention to himself until he’d positioned himself behind the two newcomers. Stepping out from the shadows, Tariq sliced the bodyguard once across the back of the neck just above his cuirass but below the helmet. His attack was as swift as a rattlesnake and just as deadly.

The toxi
n flooded his system in a few seconds. Just long enough for the huge brute to turn toward the assassin draw his axe and fall over asleep. The resounding thud when he landed stunned the rest of the saloon into silence but Tariq had not stopped with his first attack. He had continued past his first victim, grabbed the old man’s hair, slid in behind him and placed his dagger on the old man’s jugular.

When the saloon fell silent and everyone looked their way, Tariq whispered in the old man’s ear
. “Tell them to drop their weapons or you will be the next to fall.”

The old man swallowed hard
but hesitated. When Tariq twisted the blade slightly causing its edge to scrape over his throat, he gave in. “Everyone stand down!”

Callistra waved her wand and cancelled her charm spell. The hundreds of
rodents still in the main room of the saloon suddenly knew that they had someplace better to be and scurried off. The saloon patrons hesitated for a moment before lowering their weapons.

The warrior-priest
shoved his warhammer into his belt and dusted off his cloak. As he moved closer, Tariq noticed that his grin was huge. Stopping in front of the old man he said, “Hello Ragnar.”

“Kastle.”

“Tariq, you can let him go. Ragnar isn’t going to harm us. Isn’t that right?”

Ragnar swallowed hard but nodded. Warily, Tariq removed his blade
and stepped back. “Are you sure about this?”

Kastle nodded. “Yes. Ragnar was just testing us. He and I have an understanding
, right?”

The elderly brigand rubbed his throat and glanced down at the fallen bodyguard. “Our understanding was that you would leave Crooked Creek and never return. You voided that contract by coming back and compounded it by killing
my son.”

It was Tar
iq who answered. “He isn’t dead, just asleep. He’ll wake up in about twelve hours with a splitting headache but no permanent damage.” Stepping over to the sleeping giant, he placed his blade on the back of his neck. “Of course, that can change rather quickly.”

Ragnar yelled, “No! Wait!”

Tariq pulled back his katar but kept it near enough to strike if anyone in the saloon decided to be a hero. The assassin just nodded to the cleric and waited.

Kastle picked up his cue. “I
’m only here for information. I would’ve preferred a more diplomatic and civilized meeting but then, your men started all this.”

“We did not,” came the voice of the first thug who had accosted them.

“Silence!” barked Ragnar before looking back at Kastle. “If indeed my son still lives, then you and I can converse. If not, then no one in this town will let you walk out of here alive.”

Kastle cast a quick glance at the assassin and hoped he was telling the truth. Unable to read
the his expression, the holy man nodded and stepped away. “Agreed.”

Ragnar moved over to his son and checked his pulse. Feeling a strong beat, he sighed heavily and moved over to a nearby table. “Bartender! Bring out a flagon of your best.”

Kastle moved to join him and signaled to his friends to do the same. Minutes later, they were all seated around the table and the saloon went back to its normal business. Although the patrons went back to their drinks and card games, they kept a wary eye on the companions.

Ragnar poured four goblets out of the flagon
. “A toast.”

Kastle held his hands over
his and Tariq’s goblet and muttered a few words. Their guest gave him a sly look but the cleric just grinned. “Just a precaution in case you tried to poison or drug us.” When Ragnar flicked his eyes toward Callistra he added, “Even if your poison got past my magic, it wouldn’t affect her anyway. Her chemistry is much different from our own…trust me on this.”

Ragnar shrugged his shoulders. “If anyone tried to poison you it was not on my orders.”

“Be that as it may, just remember that you’ll be the first to die.” Kastle paused for a second before adding, “Then your son.”

Ragnar glanced at the prone form of his son
just a few feet away and downed his goblet. Turning his attention back to his companions the brigand asked, “What can I do for you?”

“Information.”

“What kind of information?”

“The kind that could benefit us both.”

“I’m listening.”

Kastle took a deep swallow of the bitter brew
before continuing. “About a year and a half ago, you were deposed from your self-declared throne as the King of Thieves.”

Both Callistra and Tariq gave the elderly brigand a sideways glance.

Ragnar gripped his goblet tight. “Yes. It was not a good day for me, thank you for reminding me.”

“What was the man’s name who took your throne?”

“Jagoda Wartooth. I will never forget it. One day I will have my revenge on him.”

Kastle looked over at the witch and smiled. “Perhaps we can help each other.”

“How?” asked Ragnar.

“I need to find
Jagoda and if things go completely right, take him away from this land.”

“You would do that?”

“I cannot force him to do anything. At one time, Jagoda was a friend of mine. Needless to say, we had a falling out but I need to find him.”

Ragnar stared hard at
the priest for a minute. “I can get you to him. That isn’t the hard part. However, he might kill you on sight or totally ignore you. He is too unpredictable to know exactly what will happen.”

Kastle nodded. “I understand.”

“Are you set on this course of action?”

“I must. I have no other choice.”

“If you must, you must.” Ragnar stood and signaled to the barkeep. “Rooms have been prepared. You are to be my guest this night and tomorrow you will begin your journey. I will make sure you will be rejoined with Jagoda Wartooth before a fortnight passes.”

Kastle stood. “Fair enough. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry we had to come to blows before we could talk.”

The two gripped forearms before the elderly brigand departed with his comatose son carried by four of his thugs. The three companions followed the chambermaid as she led them to their lodgings. Once she departed Kastle said, “We should be safe tonight. Ragnar has nothing to gain and everything to lose if he kills us.”

Callistra asked, “And if he decides to betray us to
Jagoda?”

“There is no love lost between them but even if he does, we will
still find Jagoda.”

“Good point.”

“I suggest that we get some rest tonight. The next few days will probably be very tiring.”

Tariq nodded and slipped out the door to find his own room. Callistra
paused at the door for a moment as if conflicted. She cast a sly glance at the cleric, shook her head and disappeared down the hallway.

Kastle
understood her dilemma and didn’t press her. He too was thinking about the upcoming reunion and he was also worried. Of course, she was thinking about a different type of reunion. 

*   *   *   *   *

As the dawn drew near, Tao was at ease for the first time since they had crossed over. Actually, he felt more relaxed than he had at any time over the last three months. Tao glanced at Arieal as she slept and once again admired her naked form. She was asleep facedown with her head on his chest. One part of his mind felt guilty at betraying the memory of his late wife. Another part was completely entranced by Arieal’s perfect body.

It had always been obvious that the game designers behind
Lost Lands
were male. The graphics for the female characters were absolutely perfect. Very well-endowed chests, small waists, perfectly round hips and shapely legs…the ideal woman. Of course, seeing it in game and then seeing it in the flesh were two completely different things. Additionally, Arieal was a dark elf which meant coal black skin and ivory white hair. This didn’t detract from her beauty in any form or fashion. In fact, it enhanced the exotic nature of her body. No one on Earth could have the skin or hair color of a dark elf and few if any Hollywood movie stars could have a body like hers.

Tao had been shocked when
Arieal had entered his hut in the middle of the night. He had actually drawn his katana and assumed a fighting stance when she entered. She hadn’t said a word, just slipped out of her robes and stood there silently, letting him drink in the beauty of her body. Once he sheathed his sword and set it aside, she had leapt on him, clawing and tugging at his clothes. Glancing down at his shoulder, Tao spied a bite and several fingernail marks. War wounds from their sexual encounter. There was intensity in their sex that was unexplainable.

Feeling
Arieal stir on his chest, Tao felt his lust growing once more. Glancing out the window, he could see the precursor lightening of the sky, a tale-tell sign that sunrise was only about an hour off. Unable to keep his mind off her body, he gently rolled the sleeping dark elf onto her back and began to use his mouth and tongue to explore her perfect figure once more. Hearing her moan and feeling her pulse quicken, he climbed on top and entered her gently. This time, they took their time and enjoyed another romp together. As the morning sun began to climb over the tree tops, the two lovers laid back down on the bedrolls and quickly fell asleep, their lust spent.

When Tao woke up to the smell of frying
fish, his room was empty. Donning his black and red keiogki, he went to find breakfast. There were a total of fifteen different huts throughout the grove of trees, all interconnected with rope bridges or ladders. They were ingeniously designed. Tao had chosen the uppermost hut on purpose, wanting the quiet and solitude it offered. But now, he had the most distance to cover to reach the lowermost platform which served as the kitchen. Using a loose rope, the lithe samurai swung down like ‘Tarzan’ to land next to the armored dreadknight.

“Morning Cozad.”

Cozad looked up from his plate of fried eggs and fish. “Morning.”

Tao looked
around. Only Bjǿrn and Moira were present. “No one else up?”

Moira
immediately began making a plate for him. Bjǿrn leaned back and pushed his plate aside. “Mathias was here about an hour ago. He ate a light breakfast than went off into the forest to hunt. He said something about wanting venison for dinner. I guess dried fish and powered eggs aren’t his favorite fare.” The Norseman picked at the remnants of his breakfast. “I think these were powdered eggs. Honestly, I’m not sure what they are but if they weren’t eggs, I don’t think I want to know what they were.”

Moira whacked him
on the shoulder with her cooking spoon. “Now don’t be crass. You’ll eat what’s put in front of you and you’ll like it.”