Lost Lands: The Game - Atlantis (27 page)

The
half-elven archer contemplated calling forth another arrow of energy but when he spied several creatures flying in from the east, he held back and waited. There was no telling if they were friends of foes and since the cockatrice didn’t know where he was at the moment, there was no reason to betray his position.

*   *   *   *   *

Tariq was alive. It hurt to breathe but he was alive. Rolling over onto his stomach, the assassin pushed himself to his knees. All around him, the battle raged but for the moment, no one was targeting him which gave him a chance to take stock of the situation.

The remaining wyvern riders had joined up with the remnants of the townsfolk and were fighting side by side against the goblins
, the Peacekeepers and the rampaging wyverns. The goblins still numbered in the hundreds, although there was only about twenty of the Peacekeepers left. The villagers had gathered around the Outlanders and were holding their own but they were clumsy and outnumbered. Sooner or later, the goblins would break through their defenses. Then, there were the wyverns. They had taken to the skies and were constantly swooping down on the defenders, swiping them with their dangerous beaks or worse, striking out with their scorpion-like stingers.

Hearing a scream of pure hatred, Tariq glanced over his shoulder and did a double-take at what he saw. A flaming pit that radiated pure evil had opened up between the dark robed wizard and the beautiful witch. A huge clawed hand could be seen clutching at the lip of the hole in an attempt to gain enough purchase to pull itself up.

“Holy shit!” was all that Tariq could think to say. The wizard had summoned a demon and it wouldn’t be long before it entered this plane of existence.

The assassin frantically looked around. The cockatrice was off to his right with his enchanted katar still lodged into its eye.
Tariq knew that if it came down to a fight against the demon, he would need his weapon. It was the only enchanted blade he had and nothing short of a magic weapon would even scratch the fiend’s hide.

Then, his eyes landed on the epic battle between the samurai and the dreadknight. To the assassin’s surprise, they actually seemed evenly matched. Both were wounded but neither would back down.

Tariq instinctively knew what he had to do. Grabbing up a fallen dagger, he faded from sight.

*   *   *   *   *

As soon as Tao had engaged the dreadknight, Gamble had slipped into the shadows and off of Cozad’s radar. There was an old idiom, out of sight out of mind but that didn’t mean the skald had left the area.

Gamble
waited until the two warriors were fully entwined in their battle before he uncloaked and rushed to the side of the fallen priest. Kastle had valiantly fought the dreadknight but had been no match for him. The priest was bleeding from numerous wounds including a large gash that had split open his abdominal cavity and the skald could see that his intestines had spilled out.

The Marvin mind-set knew from first aid classes back home that you weren’t supposed to move an injured patient but he was sure that the Red Cross hadn’t considered the fact that he might be in the path of two titans battling each other with medieval style weapons.

Grabbing the priest’s arm, Gamble dragged him several yards away. Ripping apart the priest’s cloak, he applied pressure to his wounds in a vain attempt to stem the bleeding. It wasn’t much but hopefully, it would be enough to save his life. Hearing a screech coming from the skies, Gamble looked up and spied the incoming gryphon and hippogriffs. Not knowing if they were friend or foe, the skald decided that discretion was the better part of valor and pulled the priest a few more feet back to hide behind the corpse of a fallen wyvern.

*   *   *   *   *

Tao had to admit it, Cozad was good. Real good. Granted, the samurai was still holding back since he really didn’t want to kill his friend but the huge dreadknight was more agile than Tao would’ve guessed for his size. Tao had staying in the stance of the water spirit since it was both defensive and offensive but if something didn’t change soon, he would have to step up his attacks and take this battle to the next level. When the samurai heard the screeches of the incoming gryphon and hippogriffs, he wanted to look but couldn’t chance taking his eyes off the deadly dreadknight.

However, the scream of
pure evil as the fiery demon pulled itself out of the flaming pit caused both of them to pause.

Cozad
gestured with his axe. “Ah, I see my ally has summoned another pawn to the game.”

Tao hazarded a glance and immediately regretted it. Cassie was standing with her back to the barn holding a shiny
silver sword that glowed with an inner white light. A massive fiend with wings of fire was moving slowly towards her. In one hand, the demon was dragging a multi-headed whip of fire through the dirt, the other held a flaming sword that was the size of a typical canoe. Anyone who had read or seen Tolkien’s
Lord of the Rings
would’ve recognized the demon. It was a Balrog, one of the most powerful demons from the Abyss.

Cozad shifted his position until he was between the advancing demon and the samurai. Hefting his axe back into a battle position, the dreadknight grinned. “To reach your wife, you will have to go through me.”

Tao readied his weapons and shifted into the stance of the Fire Spirit. “If that is how you want it. I lost her once and I’ll be damned if I lose her again.”

“Yes, you will be damned,” replied the hollow voice of Cozad. Raising his axe, he stepped forward to start his attack but suddenly jerked back
in pain and screamed.

Tariq appeared behind the heavily armored dreadknight
and flashed Tao a little grin. “Go! Help Calli! I’ve got this.”

Tao had mixed feelings about leaving the Hashashin to face the dark knight. He was unsure if the assassin was truly up to the task but then Tariq had made his choice and
had bought him an opening. Racing across the body strewn ground, Tao prayed that he would reach his wife’s side in time.

Chapter 33

Sartael threw his head back and laughed when the demon emerged. The dark wizard had been hoping for a powerful minion but since he hadn’t taken the proper preparations and arranged for a suitable sacrifice, this was beyond his wildest dreams.

Sartael was a demonologist, a specialized subclass of
Conjurors. He had summoned many demons during his time in Hyperborea but never a Balrog. According to published literature on
Lost Lands
there were only seven demon-lords in existence. He knew that this limitation was loosely based on notes by the literary genius J.R.R. Tolkien. Personally, he didn’t know their names but he was certain he would learn this fiend’s name soon enough. Since once he knew its name, he could summon the fiend at will.

Sartael felt his caduceus quiver and turned to see his old friend and nemesis Sanguine Bolt riding to the rescue. Casting a lightning bolt at the diving
gryphon, he yelled. “Once again you are late to the party. Do you ever arrive on time?”

Sanguine flicked his wand and deflected the spell. Unseen to his adversary, the spell landed amongst a group of goblins and blasted them to smithereens.
Leaping off his steed, the wizard executed a flip and landed gracefully several feet away from the dark wizard. “There is an immeasurable distance between late and too late. I’m here now, therefore I am right on time.”

“Ha! I wonder what Amerisky would say about that? Oh wait, she can’t, can she? She’s dead.”

Sanguine brought his wand up in a pose that was reminiscent of a fencer’s stance. “She is not dead. One day I will find a way to reverse the spell.”

Sartael waved his caduceus and two swords
of solid darkness sprang into existence between the two rivals. “Once a fool, always a fool. We had a chance at greatness once but you stood against me and look what happened. You lost your wife and became a nobody. But it’s not too late, you can still join me. Together we can lift the curse over Atlantis and rule this land like gods.”

Sanguine wiggled his wand and two swords that had fallen on the ground during the battle answered his call and interposed themselves between
himself and the shadowy blades of his opponent. “We are not gods, not now not ever. We are nothing more than gamers trapped inside this reality.”

Sartael made a gesture and his swords leapt to the attack.

However, Sanguine’s floating swords blocked and parried every assault. When the dark wizard called forth three more swords and sent them after his old friend, Sanguine Bolt took a step backwards and summoned more help. Two daggers and a discarded shield sprang to life to aid the wizard.

Once again Sartael laughed. “I can keep this up all day. What about you Wayne? Were you expecting a wizard’s
duel this morning when you memorized your spells? I bet not. Sooner or later, you will run out of spells or energy. It’s only a matter of time.”

Sanguine Bolt knew that his former friend spoke the truth.

Even as powerful a class as wizards were, they had three limiting factors; the number of spells they can memorize, which spells they chose and how much power they have available. Characteristically speaking, a wizard’s energy is limited by their level. Basically the higher level, the more power a wizard had to use. Kind of like a battery of magical power. When it was depleted, the wizard had to stop casting. Only time and rest would allow them to regain their power. Back when Wayne and Alex were just playing the game, their power was just a number on the screen. But here, in this realm of existence it was more than a number. It was in effect, their life force. Wands and staves were used to focus the wizard’s magic and acted as a storage device for energy. Casting through a wand or staff made the spells more efficient and therefore, more powerful.

Sartael
’s caduceus which was basically a wizard’s staff but somehow he had rigged it to draw power from the captured weapons of the fallen Outlanders. As much as he hated to admit it, his opponent was correct. Sanguine hadn’t anticipated a wizard’s duel this morning and only had a limited number of spells that would be useful against his former friend. Overall, this promised to be one interesting fight.

*   *   *   *   *

Tao had no idea who the newcomer was but if he was fighting the black robed wizard than he was a friend. Even as he raced across the ground, both Tao and Mac mindsets searched their collective memories about anything and everything they knew about demons. Which wasn’t much. He knew that they were powerful extra-planer creatures that thrived on death and destruction. And the fact that only very powerful magic items could harm them.

With that in mind, he sheathed his mastercrafted wakizashi and took a two-handed grip on his
frost-kissed katana. Accelerating his last few steps, Tao leapt into the air with his sword high above his head.

*   *   *   *   *

Callistra dodged to her left as the Balrog swung its flaming scourge at her. The many thronged whip blasted the wall of the barn asunder and boards went flying everywhere. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied her husband racing across the battlefield to help her. She knew at that moment, it was her responsibility to keep the fiend’s attention on her and give him a clear shot.

Besides, now that there was a demon nearby the sword seemed to have a mind of its own. When the Balrog brought its flaming weapon down to smite her, Calli’s first instinct was to dodge aside but that wasn’t what the Holy Avenger wanted. It leapt forward
and dragged her along with it. The blade slid into a perfect guard position over her head with the point of the blade toward the demon and her hands to the rear. Somehow, Calli knew this was known as the Ox Guard position and she calmly placed her left foot forward but kept the majority of her weight on her back foot.

The Balrog’s blade crashed against the Holy Avenger and bounced off. Calli felt nothing more than a light tap on the blade. She sensed the blade wanted to counterattack immediately and let herself be led by the magical
sword. Thrusting forward, she shifted her weight forward and watched as the silver blade bit deep into the Balrog’s left hip.

As the demon reared up in pain and rage it screamed. It was a deep, cavernous sound that
once heard would be hard to describe and impossible to forget.

*   *   *   *   *

Whatever Cassie had done to the demon, it worked.

Tao’s greatest fear had been that the fiend would see him and turn to intercept. Because once h
e leapt into the air, he was committed. There wasn’t much he could do to change his trajectory or defend himself against an attack. This was an all or nothing attack.

Tao landed right between the wings of fire and thrust his katana deep into the Balrog’s back. His strike was fueled by his momentum, the strength in his arms and the fear of losing his wife. The
enchanted blade buried itself all the way to the tsuba, the hand guard on a katana.

The Balrog roared again and spun in place as it tried to reach the offending samurai.

Tao held on for dear life as the flames ate at the circle of cold which radiated from his blade. Tao instinctively knew to let go meant death but to hang on promised pain and suffering. Between the two, he chose the latter and prayed that he would survive.

*   *   *   *   *

Mathias was glad that he’d held his shot when he saw that the hippogriffs immediately attacked the dragon-kin. They dove and slashed the wyverns and the cockatrice. Once the dragon-kin realized that their mortal enemies were amongst them, they forgot about anyone else.

Suddenly, the defenders only had to worry about the goblins and the Peacekeepers. The half-elf glanced at the knot of defenders. He could see the three girls toward the back, protected by the last of the bandits and numerous elementals. Mathias did a double-take as he watched one of the bandits get skewered by a goblin spear but didn’t fall. The bandit calmly ripped out the offending weapon and use it to kill the goblin. Mathias grinned when he realized that Arieal must
have animated the dead bandits and was using them to defend her and the rest of the survivors.

Mathias looked around the battlefield. The dead and dying were everywhere. This was nothing like he imagined but then, everything was different here. Back home,
the game was just a simple way to escape reality. No harm, no foul. Just log in, play a few hours and leave the problems of the real world behind. But now, this was his reality and the other world seemed like the dream.

Hearing a frightening scream from the far side of the battlefield, Mathias began sprinting
toward the sound but skidded to a halt when he turned the corner of a burning house. There were three battles raging in this area. Two mages were having a wizard’s duel, a demon was thrashing about with what looked to be Tao on its back and Cozad was fighting Tariq. If the stakes weren’t life and death for his friends, he would just sit back and watch. It promised to be memorable.

Once again, Mathias was faced with the decision of who to help. Honestly, he wanted to help Tao but that meant he’d have to leave the assassin to the ministrations of the
dreadknight. Although Tariq had killed Roland in cold blood, he seemed to have a change of heart and once more was with the Outlanders. Mathias willed an energy arrow into existence, drew back on the bowstring and fired.

The bolt of pure energy crashed into the dreadknight’s back and knocked him aside.

Tariq took complete advantage of the distraction and thrust another dagger between the plates in Cozad’s armor. That made four blades sticking out of him. None of them were poisoned or magical but he was certain they were painful. Rolling out of the way from one of his opponent’s strikes, Tariq couldn’t help but taunt the dark knight.

“How’s that feel Ed? Does it hurt?”

“Ed? There is no Ed here. I am Cozad the Conqueror and I will destroy you.” Another bolt of energy crashed against his helmet and the dreadknight glanced at the archer. “Ah, another peasant has decided to take up arms against the nobility. You too shall perish.”

Summoning a globe of darkness, Cozad centered it on top of the archer and lashed out with a kick at the assassin.

Tariq hadn’t been expecting such an unorthodox attack by the knight and was taken completely by surprise. He felt one of his ribs break as he was launched backward.

*   *   *   *   *

Sartael gazed at the battlefield and sensed that the tide had turned against him. His goblins and Peacekeepers were nearly decimated. The wyverns were dead and his cockatrice was mortally wounded. It was only a matter of time before the gryphon and its cousins killed his pet. On top of that, the samurai and the witch seemed to have critically injured the Balrog. Then there was his newest recruit, Cozad. He was wounded but still in the fight. Nonetheless, a wise leader knows when it was time to retreat.

Sartael made sure that his shadow swords were keeping his nemesis occupied before he contacted his ally.
’Cozad, it is time to depart. The field is theirs.’

Cozad recognized the voice from earlier and so did the Edward mind-set but
since he was still chained deep inside the dreadknight’s psyche and could do nothing but listen.
’I do not like to flee. There is no honor in retreat.’

‘True, but then the dead have no honor. I did not anticipate Sanguine Bolt’s interference nor the possibility of a Holy Avenger sword being in play. However, I have many more pawns to use in this game. They just need a general capable of wielding them correctly.’

‘You have an army for me to lead?’

Sartael grinned despite himself. The dreadknight had been so easy to read and in turn, manipulate.
‘Yes but we must depart before our enemies join forces against us. Come, join me and I will whisk us away to my kingdom.’

‘On my way.’

Sartael watched as the dreadknight cloaked the archer in a globe of darkness and couldn’t help but wince as he kicked the annoying assassin. Yes, Cozad was the right person for the role he had in mind. When the dark knight reached his side, the demonologist drew the outline of a door with his caduceus and a shadowy portal opened up. Gesturing at the opening, the dark knight stepped through and disappeared.

Sartael couldn’t help but gloat at his escape. Tipping his head
and his hat to his former friend he quipped, “Farewell Sanguine Bolt, we will meet again.”

As soon as he stepped through, the shadow portal slammed shut and Sartael’s ethereal blades dissipated into wisps of smoke. 

Sanguine just shook his head and spoke to the empty air. “You are right about that, we will meet again and next time the outcome will be different.”

Hearing the screams of pain from the samurai, Sanguine Bolt took in the
situation with a single glance. The Balrog was critically injured but as long as the portal to the Abyss was open, the manifestation of its mortal form couldn’t die. Therefore, the portal had to be closed.

Mentally reviewing all the spells he had left for the day, he only had one that might do the trick.
As a specialist mage, Sanguine gained bonuses to certain types of spells but had penalties in other areas. Wayne had chosen to be an Elementalist which was a wizard that specialized in the four elements; earth, air, water and fire. As such, he had a useful utility spell called
‘Move Earth’
which was basically a magical version of a giant invisible backhoe.