Sunset in a Dead Land

[Taskmienster]

[The entire idea for this quest was built on a single picture: This. And the guy at the end was built off of this
Thank you artists, you are my muse.



Althanas was an intricate game, an anomaly that Lars wasn’t used to. He had toyed with the codes for a little while, but had gotten nothing more than stops and errors. It was discouraging but did little more than strengthen his resolve. He would crack the code, he would bring back the information that GramVR wanted, and there would be a new game on the web soon enough. He would be in charge of it, the master coder of his own world… with a handsome bonus and new title. That was enough to make him continue, make him travel the world and find the heart of conflict in order to find the most complex of codes on the server.

His interest and search brought him to some land on the main continent, to a conflict that was supposedly a long lasting rivalry between canon of the site and the players. The administration took special precautions to keep it relatively simplistic in nature. The land was called Raiaera, a land of the mythical creatures known as high elves. They were well versed in the ability to cast magic, had a mind for art, and a pointedly uppity nature from what little Ethan Calhoun had been able to figure out. Their enemy was a necromancer by the name of Xem’zûnd, a powerful… something. Honestly, Lars couldn’t figure out what the hell he was other than an enemy, and that he controlled a shit ton of undead freaks.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he thought as the ship brought him into the docks of New Aurient. The harbor was massive, reaching out to sea like a hand with way to many fingers. Each finger was wide, waiting for a ship to dock between it, but only a few were open. Ships, boats, small yachts lined the harbor instead of open slots. Along the docking area were droves of people, man woman and child, trying to get on any ship leaving port. It was a sad sight. The elves the hacker had heard tell of were meager, scant people with big ears and little stomach for violence. Painters and peasants alike vied for their right to join the ships, the captains of non-Raiaeran decent taking full advantage and jacking prices that Lars could hear from the edge of his own ship. “This is pathetic… what the fuck is going on?”

Little did he know that the stretch of the destruction was reaching all the way to the coast, absorbing small towns, sucking in the lives of families without the ability to defend each other. The undead were on the move without hindrance from trained soldier or courageous citizen, a prospect that was unbecoming of so well spoken for a race. But it was the way of the world, the way of the game, and Lars could see the tell tale signs of panic that raced through the populace.

“The war’s upon us boy,” an elderly, grizzly elven man said from behind him. He was an ugly fuck, even compared to the people Ethan had seen scrapping about in the slums of Radasanth. His armor was pristine though, his weapon polished, and a number of random jewelry strewn about his person. A player character, it was the only assumption. If there was one thing he had learned from playing from game to game, it was that everyone wanted to play the old and practiced warrior with the scars to prove that he had done very little other than register. Either that, or people would take the beautiful character with a portly person sitting in the background. His girlfriend was bad about that, not exactly beautiful in real life, but by god she was the most voluptuous promiscuous person on the server. “It’d be good if you got a straight head on your shoulders and helped out maybe?”

“Hey, here’s an idea…” the gangplank dropped to the wooden dock, and the warrior assembled to assist the country of Raiaera began to shift their way off the deck. “Go fuck yourself… oh, and while you’re at it, grow some balls and be something more than a fuckin’ grizzled wanna be warrior.”

The man growled after the hacker, which he figured would happen. But it didn’t matter, there was something to do, something to toy with. He was one of many warriors that left the island nation of Corone in favor of the chaotic land of the high elves. They would be organized, sent on different tasks, spread throughout the ranks of the ‘bladesingers’ – whatever the fuck those were – and the troops of the high elven people. In the mean time, he would toy with the reality of Althanas and attempt to hack further into the abilities he knew he could mathematically and technologically figure out.

[Taskmienster]

In the distance, over artistically created spires and skyscraping buildings the hacker wouldn’t have expected to see in the low fantasy realm he could see a small mountain range. It was, as those whispering around him were saying, the last line of defense that allowed for so many to escape. Through that range they had escaped, through passages guarded heavily. But there were so many valleys and paths, plenty of ways for the undead or roving necromancer to find their way through… far more than troops to station along them. It was a discomforting thought that undead, or their controlling mages, could slip into the city without so much as a minor thought at resistance. The city was at the wills of the great darkness. It was for that reason the warriors had been assembled.

Lars was little like a true ‘warrior’ though, something more of a rouge in truth. His weapons were simple daggers, since his gun had been broken when he had come to Althanas. He wore no armor, preferring something comfortable instead. Around him men were plated and wrapped in layers of metal, from the common steel to uncommon and fantasy based mythril. Those were warriors; he was nothing like them. His leather coat was fur lined for fucks sake, and he was wearing goddamned girl jeans. The only thing he had even close in common was that he wore combat boots, but even those were nothing like the steel toed and gaiter wrapped armor around him.

Out of place? Very much so.

But it did little to discourage the newest to the ranks of the mercenary scum that was the most pervasive class on the server. He knew he could do more than any of the common swordsmen present, mythril armor or otherwise. “Thank you all for coming to this cursed land.” The words were spoken as if rehearsed. The tone was than caring, for either the outcome of their use or for the country itself. The speaker was a slim, lightly armored elven man. His hair was blonde and light, almost as pale as his skin tone. His soft blue eyes were without emotion, again making the hacker feel like he didn’t give a shit about what he was saying. “You will be sectioned off into different details, scattered across the city in order to assist in the most pivotal of places currently under duress.”

“He means the points that they don’t feel like putting their own kind in, right? You know, the suicide area’s?” Lars was met with an audience of un-amused glances, tough fuckin’ crowd. The people around him were hardly the ‘hey lets laugh at jokes’ type people, and by god they showed it with every action. They shifted uneasily, trying to get a bit of distance from the five foot ten hacker. He shook his head and played with his black and white streaked hair. The spikes were fading slowly, but he could do a little to re-code those. “Sorry, jesus fuckin’ christ…”

“As such, you will be grouped according to abilities,” the man was droll, boring the hacker. He had things to do, codes to toy with. Wrongs needed to be righted, the defenseless needed to be protected, he needed to leap over buildings with a single bound… by god the people around him thought nothing less of themselves. They weren’t super heroes; they were just people, playing characters on a virtual world that meant nothing. “It will be one moment till we can accurately figure out where each of you would be the most useful. In the meantime remain where you are, do not wander away, and be civil with your fellow warriors.”

Civil with fellow warriors, Lars huffed at the thought. The others were half as good as he was, knew half as much. He was not like them, he was better. He looked around; found the accusing angry eyes of the elven man from the ship. No matter how hard he tried, he always looked like he was little more than a poor attempt at an impressive figure. His face was worn, he had scars, his eyes were heavy, but he was missing that little touch that made him a computer controlled player. No matter how good virtual reality was, it never fully compensated for the natural and subconscious reactions of a human playing a game.

[Taskmienster]

A group of three high elven warriors stopped before him. Their eyes were condescending and rude, leaving the mercenary hacker with little more than a scoff as they passed. They didn’t know where to put him, he knew, he could tell from the way they looked at him. No armor, no visible weapon, he was not aesthetically pleasing as a warrior, to the elven people he was little more than a stowaway. But there was something for him to do anyway, he knew. Another guy like him; a shallow figured human wearing only cliché black clothing and a mask was standing off to the side. He wore even less protection than Ethan did.

“Hey there,” he said as he walked towards him, the man twitched towards him. Twitched was the perfect word. He didn’t turn towards him, his head jerked violently, his eyes shifted side to side suddenly, and there was little more than pure chaos behind his visage. “What’s up? Listen, we’re probably the only two that aren’t here to save a world and get some massive reward. I figure, if we team up, we’re bound to find something little on the side to do… whatcha say?”

“Shhuuuurree,” the man was obviously a lunatic. His voice was hollow, his single word stretched to almost a full sentence. Lars chuckled and clapped the man on his shoulder, which made him jump forward. He could feel the guy’s bones as if there wasn’t a pound of fat much less muscle on him. “Dedric,” he said with his black gloved hand outstretched. Lars took it in his own and shook it, a leather glove, plated and studded with black steel caps. “Ethan, though you can call me Lars.”

“And I am Ansribael, Rune Guardian,” the grizzle elf from earlier had walked up behind the two without Ethan even feeling or hearing his approach. It was no wonder, since the acute senses he had coded for himself in the previous server had been all but wiped away thanks to the fuckin’ firewall. “Anywhere you get off to there’s sure to be trouble, especially with that mouth of yours. I’d be ignoring my duties to the great nation of Raiaera if I did not assist you both.”

“Great nation, they can’t even get rid of undead, much less protect their borders… but your more than welcome to tag along as long as you don’t fuck things up. Stay out of my way when I need you to, don’t give me shit if I don’t look like I’m in the mood either – and so you know I’m never in the mood.” Ethan shook the elven man’s hand, and gave him a sly smile. He would have the three with him for whatever the high elves had left once their snooty attitudes had finished the new assignments. “Let’s see what’s left to do…”

The two men followed the reluctant mercenary hacker as he searched the crowd for the short elven officials. They were towards the end, having grouped a good number of men together according to like personalities and appearances. A few groups were the stalwart necessary knights in every game. No matter where he went they were sure to be there too. The ‘heroes’, the men who fought the villainous lions that attempted to devoir the unsuspecting, they were almost always the little kids who thought too highly of themselves. Another couple groups were common soldiers, banded armor and a strew of strangely collected weapons… those were the true mercenary scum that would do anything for money, or a new item.

“Excuse us,” Ethan said as he tapped the shoulder of one of the elven officials. The man turned, brushing at the place that the hacker had touched as if he was plagued. Uppity pieces of shit, Lars wanted to ask them what was up their ass that made them so hostile, but held his tongue. “We’re lookin’ for something to do, and since you passed over me and my friend Dedric here it’s obvious you don’t know what to do with us.”

The elven male was lightly armored, with a breastplate of prevalida that shimmered in the sunlight. It was highly decorated, black streaks of what looked like diamonds imbedded into the etching. Expensive shit, very expensive shit for a man who thought his armor signified his importance. “Yes, you…” his words were sharp, spit with acid, and spoken in a common tongue laced with elven grace. “We have something for you two… three. Give me one moment and I will assist you in the details of your task.”

[Taskmienster]

Something? More like bullshit grunt work. The group had been assigned to the sewers, scouring through them as if there was something interesting down there. What were they supposed to be looking for, mutated alligators? Fuckin’ giant rats of doom? It was the kind of task that was given to people just to get them out of the way, but by god if they got money for it Lars was going to take it and run. There were much worse places to be, such as on the frontlines with the other stupid grunts, or in the cold hills to the west waiting and watching for the darkness to descend. No, he thought, the sewers were cool with him.

“They don’t think we’re strong enough to bother with any kind of threat sent from Xem’zûnd,” Ansribael was just as much a condescending twit as the high elves were. “Well, I assume they don’t believe you two strong enough, they know I could help but let me volunteer to be with you two.”

“Shut the fuck up and lift that grate, at least then we’ll have a use for your muscles, since your brain is curiously absent.” Lars said to the brutish idiot. The large elf shrugged and dug his fingers into the sides of the metal, working at the edges to remove it from the ground. The cobblestones around it shifted uneasily. It was obvious the sewers hadn’t been accessed from that grate in a very long time. “Oh, and while you’re at it,” the mercenary chimed in when the metal cap slid aside, “Why not jump in and take a look?”

“Dedric,” the man did his twitch maneuver and looked towards Lars with his skittish eyes. “Dude, calm down a bit, there’s nothing to worry about.” The human rogue turned his head and the hacker could see the lift of his mask in what could only be assumed as a smile. “Alright, you have the torches and stuff right? Yeah, get one out and I’ll light it and hand it down. Hell if we know what’s waiting down there, but I can’t see in the dark, you might be able to, I think all elves can… so better be prepared.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” the man nodded furiously and took out a torch from the pack on his back. Lars took out his zippo, put the flame to torch. It lit quickly at the very edge, but the flame was slow to soar and moved across the surface boringly. It was good though, because he didn’t want to have to hand down some flaming pigsticker to the elven guy in the sewers. “Ansri, here’s your torch, or mine, just hold it till we get down.”

“I don’t need one, so you might want to light one more and then the two of you come down and join me.” His voice was echoed off the stone walls. Even outside of it he could hear it double over itself multiple times. Ethan held onto the sides and lowered himself down, his booted feet dropping into the rot and ruin of the underground. His boots squelched with every step and he grimaced against the noise. The sewers were very low, very dark, smeared with old shit and uncontrolled growth of mold. It tasted bad, smelt worse, and made his skin crawl. “Lovely, is it not?”

“Hardly,” Lars said as he touched the second torch to the first lit one. The small fire flickered to life on the edge. Before it could grow the hacker removed his pack of cigarettes, tapped one out, and lit it on the edge of the torch. The rough smoke and acrid taste twisted his expression as he took his first drag and started to follow the big man in the front.

[Taskmienster]

“…and that was the second time I encountered a member of the Ai’Bron clergy outside of the Citadel. Really an ingenious design that building. Remarkably indestructible.” The prattle of the elven warrior was seemingly endless, but Ethan had gained a little bit more knowledge of Althanas through it all. He had learned of the land known as Corone, a giant island on the other side of Scara Brae. It was in some civil war between the Corone Empire and the Rangers of the realm, a cliché happenstance that seemed to be on every site. But a civil war was a money making adventure waiting to be had. Lars had taken advantage of many in his time spent on other servers, working both sides and making incredible amounts of money off the easily manipulated. “So what about you, Ethan? What stories do you have to tell of adventures across Althanas?”

Ah, the always looming question of his origins. What was his last story? A humble slave on a pirate ship, slowly but surely given the privilege of joining the crew, rising quickly through the ranks to not only assume first mate, but eventually take the ship too. That was Grimm though, the accursed world server that allowed for anything out of the ordinary to happen. Althanas seemed more structured, with fewer loop holes to escape through. He had not thought of a back story for his assumed identity yet. In truth, it was about the only thing he had slipped on so far.

“Eh, nothing of interest… I’m just a wanderer always looking for something interesting to do I suppose.” Bland and boring, but what else could he tell him, surely he couldn’t tell the truth. If word escaped through loose lips about his hacking endeavors that cracked the defenses of the server the administration would assuredly catch wind. If he explained about the air ship he had used to break through the firewall he’d most likely be taken as a crazy person, or bothered till the location of the fallen craft could be extracted. “Sorry, somewhat droll I know, but you know how it is in Scara Brae, not as exciting as outside the island.”

“No wonder you don’t have any weapons or armor yet,” Ansribael toned in, his voice clearly uninterested with the lifestyle Ethan had assumed so far. “You will undoubtedly be exposed soon enough to plenty of adventures; we heroes normally get a fair chance to do whatever we want.”

Lars coughed a laugh through a puff of smoke. He was no hero by any means. He had robbed, looted, endangered innocents, and done whatever it took to get what he wanted. Althanas wouldn’t change his outlook on the gaming community, just make it harder to fuck people over thanks to the abundance of heroes and wanna be’s. “No worries here,” he responded, changing the subject. “What are we supposed to be doing down here? I didn’t quite understand what that elf was talking about, caught words here and there. His inflection was heavy.”

“We’re down here just scouting, looking for any threats that might have slipped by the city defenses. Granted, I know a guy helping out with those, I don’t think anything possibly slipped through.” The man was cocksure, but that didn’t matter to the hacker. He turned his attention to Dedric. The little guy was shy, quiet with hardly any words for his companions. Lars still hadn’t seen a single weapon on him to account for, but his weapons were hidden too so he didn’t count anything out. “Besides, we’re getting paid to do this… and if we find anything we just get rid of it, report what we found, and collect even more.”

“Just get rid of it,” the hacker sighed. It wouldn’t be as easy as his nonchalant companion made it sound. If there was any undead or worse in the tunnels beneath the city they were going to be alone against it… “You’re sure of the ease of this task.”

“I’m the one in armor; I’m the one with the big sword… I’ve spent lots of time fighting and getting stronger. If there’s some undead creature roaming these tunnels I have the most likely chance of killing it compared to the two of you together. Besides, your small and unarmed, Dedric isn’t armed and has even less protection that you do. I’ll be the hero for sure.”

[Taskmienster]

The hero of the group was in the lead with his nightvision. The two humans following him were silent, and rather bored. Money was money, but this was monotonous. Tunnels filled with low sewage, walls stained with past rises and falls of the flow, and an ever shrinking wall… it was the same with every turn. The three rounded another corner, but Ansribael stopped short and turned around. His finger was too his lips, a hissing sound warning them to be quiet shot towards their direction. Lars almost laughed, the noise he had made was almost as conspicuous as any noise they would make walking, more so because it was so naïve. “What?”

“Movement on the other side, twenty yards straight ahead. It could be another patrol though,” or a rat Lars thought as the man’s attempt at a whisper clung to the walls. He was hardly quiet. A large, elven made sword was unsheathed from his back, leaving barely enough room to swing it. Lars shook his head and moved up behind the man. Dedric follow close, but made no move to search for a weapon either. “If it’s a patrol we’ll be able to just ask where they’ve been and go a different way. If they’ve already scouted everything we can just leave and get our money too.”

Nope, the hacker thought, never that easy. The game had something planned, something to look forward to. Even if it was another patrol they were bound to head into something. Or maybe he would get lucky and just short out on the job and get paid anyway. He remained close behind the lumbering brute of an elf, looking around him for whatever it was that they had seen. “A rat?” Lars couldn’t see it, but that sure as hell didn’t stop him from laughing.

“You dolt, it’s a fuckin’ rat… and you had me all worried…” before he could continue a shimmering prismatic shield formed around the warrior. His big body stumbled backwards, almost falling on top of the hacker and the quiet human. Ethan stopped laughing immediately, dropped his torch, shot a dagger out of either sleeve, and crouched. “What the hell was that?”

“My armors enchanted to reflect the first attack in combat,” he responded, apparently shaken by the surprise. His free hand felt at his chest, a small dent at its center. A ranged weapon of some sort had hit him, and with enough force to break the enchantment and get just close enough to cause the dent. “That hurt; did you see what it was?”

“You’re the one that can see in the dark, by god get the hell up and let’s check it out.” The three stepped forward and were graced by the appearance of two undead. Their skeletal bodies were covered in a thin layer of sagging flesh and rotting muscle. Boils and blisters streaked their faces and what little flesh remained on the bone. One was holding a crossbow, the bolt to reload it troubling his clumsy fingers. The other had a long knife in hand, moving towards the group in a slow gait. “Do your thing.”

Ansribael lunged forward with a horrible attempt at a battle roar. The noise was deafening, but what did it matter to the zombies? They had no ears, their senses lost with the bodies they once could claim. It served as an irritant to Lars though. He spun the daggers downwards to a defensive position and attempted to plug his ears with the back of his balled fists. Dedric stood impassively as the two creatures were torn in half. The hacker could tell he liked the combat, his eyes were glowing.

“Disgusting things,” the warrior said nervously as he cleaned the edge of his blade on the rags that the zombies wore. “If they’re down here we have problems. It means they got through the defenses, through the mountains and into the city without being known. But we cannot let them escape, or multiply further. We need to destroy them all.”

“Wait, we saw what we needed to, why not just report back and have people come down here and kill them? We’ll get paid either way, right?” Lars got the same irritated look he had gotten on the boat. The elf thought he was weak. Fuck him; it wasn’t weak of him to want another ten men at the least to come fight with him. It was smart, and so was getting paid. “Fuck it, fine, let’s play hero.”

[Taskmienster]

“What the hell is this?” Lars and the three had traveled another five minutes without confrontation, a small boon. However, the deeper they went the weirder shit was getting. Along the walls something like spider webs had begun to paint the cobblestones. It was a disgusting sight. The hacker hated spiders, almost as much as bugs, but not nearly so much as snakes. His hands played with the material. It looked like spider silk, was smooth and stuck to the walls. But it wasn’t sticky to the touch, nor was it small… each cord easily about half the size of his finger. “Spiders? We have to deal with spiders too?”

“This isn’t normal spider silk, something different about it.” The hacker stepped away and let the more knowledgeable warrior play with it. The tendrils were black as night and every so often they would seemingly pulse. Lars ignored the pulsing, putting it off as delusional paranoia. “Too thick, so strong, I can’t place it but I’ve heard of it before. It wouldn’t be a spidermagi, one of those would have killed us already easily. This is more like rope than silk.”

“Let’s just keep movin’ then, follow this and we’ll probably find where the zombies are hiding at… and how they got here.” Lars gave the warrior a light shove and he let go of the silk. Over his shoulder he could see Dedric, but barely hear him. The boy’s breath was as silent as the dead, his steps not making a single sound. If Lars had thought his eyes were glowing earlier with the zombies, he sure as hell knew they were glowing when he looked at them. A rough purplish color, his eyes were flaring occasionally. “You ok man?”

“Yess,” he responded in his strange way. Lars pushed his lip ring back and forth with his tongue and shrugged. If he said he was cool he was fine, the hacker wasn’t one to pry. But it was still strange having him follow behind so quiet. Half the time he didn’t even know if the creepy little guy was still following other than the glow of his torch.

“Who are you?”

Lars snapped around to the voice in the darkness. It was deep and strong, leaving him without a question as to where the zombies came from. A necromancer having slipped through the defenses, and they were slipping through his. It was only fair, but he tried to be a little more serious. “We’re here to rid you of your place within this town. New Aurient has stood against you so far, and I will see to it that we continue to. Stand and defend yourself, maggot of Xem’zûnd.”

“Maybe the maggot part wasn’t so necessary… Hell, maybe all of it wasn’t.” Lars didn’t even get a look from the warrior. His sword was drawn, both hand wrapped tightly around the hilt. The hacker realized that he was charging into combat again right when he pushed forward, and instantly took off after him. Daggers already dropped, eyes locked, and they were in the midst of god knew what.

[Taskmienster]

The darkness of the cavernous like tunnels was nearly overwhelming for the hacker. He could see the awkward form of the oversize elven warrior at the edge of the light spread by the torch. The elf could see in the darkness, but Lars sure as hell couldn’t, and he wanted to desperately know what the hell was going on. With Dedric close behind he hurried forward. His gait was nothing like the long legged warriors. He had no wish to rush into battle, daggers readied, against an unknown threat that was part of or had created undead. It just wasn’t smart.

Quickly the two humans hurried after the raged warrior. He was engaged in combat with multiple opponents, and as the light grew closer Lars saw the sickly sagging skin of more barely animated zombies. They were hardly interesting, little more than a fledgling attempt at creating undead. He could only assume that the necromancer on the other end of their movements was weak, hardly used to his new position under the Forgotten one.

Lars shifted around the heavy elf and put a dagger into an outstretched arm. The undead reeled away from his missed sword stroke without the sword, much less half an arm to hold it. The hacker had slit through multiple exposed tendons, leaving it without means to defend itself. In an instant he was on it, kicking out the skeletal legs with his heavy combat boots. It went down with a thud and a clatter of half concealed bones. Ansribael had taken a good number of zombies himself, removing heads and sending bones flying about with his heavy sword. His sword was glowing in the darkness, runic script shining across the side of the sword.

“Where is he?” The elven warrior asked, as if Lars knew who ‘he’ was or where anything was. “My sword will vanquish him. I have the runes of the blessed of Draconus, holy runes from the Antifirmament. This undead scum has offered little challenge.”

He was sweating. His brow was creased, and his hands were tightly wound around the hilt of his sword. Lars could see his ragged breath rise and fall in the dim light, enough to know that he was saying what his cocksure attitude and egotistical mind allowed. “I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about, but whatever the fuck’s going on down here needs to be reported. Sure, explore-remove-report seems like a good plan, but it’s the remove that’s turning into one hell of a problem.”

Before he knew what was happening a heavy hand was wrapped around the hacker’s throat. He was off the ground and pinned against the wall. The grizzly, scarred face of the warrior was close, too close. Ragged breaths tickled Lars’ face, but was far from funny. “Look you piece of shit, I’ve had enough of your goddamned talk. Either you do what we were asked to do, or go the hell back.” The two looked into each other’s eyes for half a second before the conflict was over. Ansri let go of Lars and dropped him, coughing to regain his composure no doubt. “You want a reward, than by the Thayne stick with me and I’ll do all the work. All you have to do is pretend like you are doing something, just like Dedric’s doing. Shut up, follow me, and we’ll be done with this shortly.”

Lars voiced no concerns or arguments. He had been on the other side of the warrior’s ire since they had met, just released from his powerful grasp. The taste of chaos in the man’s mind was enough for him for one day. Let him play his stupid games, the hacker thought as he popped his neck and rubbed the back of his head. If the man wanted to be the hero, wanted to do all the work, Lars would let him and be silent like asked. But the hell if he would attempt to jump in and help again, let the brute die, see if he cared.

[Taskmienster]

The clatter of steel and bones ricocheted through the tunnels. Lars, as had been requested, stood next to Dedric and watched the combat without so much as an urge to interfere. The elven warrior was handling himself well. Each fall of his rune enchanted sword met with either exposed bone and tender tendons or an untimely strike of an undead foe. The grace he possessed was to be commended, but he had already given himself quite the ego stroke already. Lars had little interest in stroking it further. The hacker turned mercenary watched as his companion tore through whatever came at them, quickly making their way towards the heart of the issue.

“I see you have powers to be commended,” leave it to the bad guy to stroke his ego instead. It was the first time the sickly sweet voice had been voiced since Ansribael had gone out of his way to offend it. “You have come far, and have killed what little progress I have made. It is disappointing, but I can remake what you have so conveniently destroyed. Believe me, maggot of Raiaera, I can do far more than you can possibly know.”

“Told you the maggot part was a bit excessive,” Lars chimed in, happily angering the stupid dolt that had told him off but minutes before. The warrior grunted, but shrugged. It was almost as if an adult was behind the shrug, but alas he called out once again and the childish monotony continued.

“Then prove it,” the challenged raised, the warrior ready, the hacker could do little more than cringe. It was the by far the least responsible and intelligent response he had heard in a long time. Grimm had been full of idiots ready to prove themselves on the new server. There had been multiple people that he had been forced alongside in order to hunt the mutated freaks on the surface world. Each one had sounded a lot like Ansri. Each one had died quickly or quit because the adventures were ‘too hard’. Ethan knew from years and years of gaming that taking it slow and not making such asinine threats to powerful people would profit far more in the long run. “I will gladly take you on in combat one on one if you are willing to put yourself at threat and not just zombie minions.”

“Gladly.”

The definite tone was eerily powerful, leaving Lars with shivers running up and down his spine. His daggers were in hand and waiting. The fight was between the cocksure and the macabre, but being ready had proved effective time and time again. The light of the torch suddenly bloomed into a raging inferno, leaving the hacker with a surprise burst of warmth from behind him. Lars’ booted feet spun as quickly as he could, but it was not Dedric’s doing that had caused the flame to grow. The man’s purple eyes were wide with shock as he watched the torch fall to the sewage and remain burning brightly. His head was shaking in response to the hacker’s questioning gaze.

The clash of metal against metal made both humans snap their heads towards where the warrior had been standing. Lars moved so fast his sense of position was compromised, leaving him with a spinning image of his surroundings. It lingered for but a moment and passed while he looked around. Overhead, along the walls, and down the dark corridor was more of the wide spider-silk material. It twisted and wove in and through the worn cobblestone walls. He sensed a trap, tied into the silky webs. One hard pull be it magical or physical and the bound stones would come crumbling down. “We need to get out of this place…”

The two fighting had already moved away. The clash of their swords was ever present, but the actual combat had become a foot race through the sewer. Ansribael was on the necromancer’s tail. In front of the two the tunnel turned, and around it they followed. Lars tugged on the slim shoulder of Dedric and charged after them. From the tunnel’s turn he could see light as bright as the torch behind him. It was strong, leaving the fading shadows of the two engaged in combat dancing on the walls. It was like watching a puppet show, but one that would end in one of the puppets falling and blood being splattered everywhere. For sure, nothing like the tricks Ethan’s dad had played on the walls when he was a kid.

[Taskmienster]

For the first time the hacker was allowed to see what had caused everything to transpire the way it had. The necromancer was on the receiving end of fierce swipes of the sword. His own blades were rising and falling delicately in return, parrying and deceiving Ansri with every swing. The weapons were long and thin, but wide at the base making them a unique type of rapier. Instead of a cross type hilt there was an almost bucket like feel to the hand guards where the widest portion of the blade narrowed sharply to create a diamond shape. Around either hand was a rounded and etched guard that seemed completely dethatched from the rest of the sword.

The wielder of the blades was something far less grotesque than the common being that played the part of the necromancer. His face was sharp and strong. Well defined cheekbones rose high, his brows pronounced and a bit sharp, both adding a unique twist to the otherwise standard elven visage. Black layers of dark cloth wound tightly around the foes medium build, a long coat that was firmly closed and a pair of sleek black pants. Across it all were intricately detailed decorations, streams of golden silk creating a rather delicate and graceful look.

If one had just walked into the fight between the warrior and the necromancer it would be Ansribael that would seemingly be the brutish opponent. Lars knew though, and his open mouth still hung in surprise. The two were clashing blades back and forth viciously, dancing and weaving their way about a rather wide open chamber that the party had been lead into. It was the chamber and what it held that caught the attention of the hacker though.

The walls were the standard worn cobblestone he had seen throughout the sewers. Smooth and uneven, but through the cracks was the most intricate of designs. Webbing from the tunnels had been interesting, what the necromancer had done to make the chamber his home was awe inspiring. The webs were laid with the precision of a genius. Giant patterns were formed on the walls, writing and runic script tied into the white silk. It followed from the base to the ceiling. The cylindrical opening was half taken up by water that was reachable by stairs from where the humans had entered. On the other side of the water was a platform of cobblestone strewn about with books, candles that burned brighter than they should, and a small bit of furniture.

Against the walls behind that though, there was something devilish at work. Pods of silk like cocoons were stuck to the walls. They were big, the silk rather thin and delicate, and in them was a ghastly sight. People were in horrible positions, wrapped up in a state of pain or anguish. It was impossible to distinguish what the race of any where, but Lars could guess that they were all adults. From that guess he formed that they were somehow the zombie-like creatures they had encountered earlier, simply not yet released.

“My my, do we not have a curious group here,” the voice of the necromancer was strong within his own home. He had leapt across the water to the waiting platform, leaving the winded warrior on the other side. The necromancers head shifted side to side, popping the bones as he did so as if he had just warmed up. Ansribael was hardly a challenge. “These are my pets,” he continued, “I see you have taken an interest in them.”

“What the fuck is going on down here?” Lars was astounded and let it ring through his tone. He needed answers and explanations for the big wig Raiaeran’s that would be asking him questions. If he played stupid he could stroke the ego of the necromancer and at the very least get what he needed. “Those are people… you have people wrapped up in that spider web shit…”

“A very perceptive one you are,” the necromancer said with a laugh. “Yes, these are people, taken off the streets of New Aurient itself. With all the commotion and chaos of the invasion by the big bad Forgotten One I decided to take it upon myself to… branch out a little. The people were amongst the hundreds that have flocked to the sea. Take a few here and there, nobody would miss them, and I was correct.”

“Are you turning them? Changing them into those disgusting zombies?”

“No, not these. Those were previous partners in crime. I have something else for these, an alchemical formula pumped directly into their veins. It is extremely potent, and extremely painful.” The elf smirked. The hacker instantly found his throat filled with bile and the overwhelming need to puke. “Do not worry silly human, you will feel it soon enough for your trespassing.”