The Merchant of Tiqpa: The Bathrobe Knight's Sequel Page 25

  “Alright, we’ll deal with the X’s when we get to them,” Tubal said, leading the group toward the entrance that Locke had noted on the map.

  “It’s weird, isn’t it?” Locke looked at the bridges that had been sealed off, their gates shut in a way that caused them to look like they had never existed in the first place. “I get the feeling that there isn’t a single person who is trying to help the Fire-Walkers. There can’t be a perfect symbiosis within the city, can there? I mean, there’s no way that everyone is supporting the Holy Alliance and the White-Wings and neglecting the Fire-Walkers, right?”

  “No, I am betting there isn’t. But the other factions probably won’t say anything until after the raid. They’re waiting to see what happens, and their investments aren’t great enough to cause them to risk anything,” Tubal said as he walked up to the ground where the entrance should have been. “Shy, it should be here, but I don’t see anything.”

  Locke thought back to the time he had met with Red-Dragon. The wall had appeared to be seamless, without so much as a single differentiating divot in the surface, yet when he had felt along the surface, there had been a switch. “They wouldn’t make it obvious,” Locke said as he crouched down and started feeling around the grass-covered dirt for something that stood out of place. “They wouldn’t make it into something that could easily be found. We need to search for a rock or a twig or something.”

  “I see,” Sampson said as she pulled out her two-handed axe. “Well, in that case, you should probably back up.”

  “Huh?” Locke asked, but didn’t hesitate to flee as soon as he saw Sampson lift her giant axe like she was going to cut him down. He narrowly managed to get out of the way just before the axe came cleaving down, burning a brighter blue than usual, and torched all the grass off the field to reveal a few remaining rocks, all darkened and scorched.

  “It’s gotta be one of those then, I guess,” Sampson said, pointing at the stones her slash-and-burn had laid bare.

  “Sampson, I like your style, but you need to give me more warning,” Locke said, laughing. He grabbed two rocks, and nothing happening, but as he attempted to lift the third, he heard a click, and the ground opened up right under his feet. He quickly scrambled out of the way once again, something that was beginning to become a habit for him. This time, he was trying to avoid falling down a staircase that opened up underneath his feet instead of dodging a giant Minotaur trying to split him in two like a rack of beef ribs, but the effect was the same.

  “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Reginald declared as he pulled out one of the makeshift glow-in-the-dark moss torches and took the first step down.

  “He really had me fooled,” Sampson said to Locke in an aside.

  “Huh?” Locke didn’t get it.

  “I could have sworn that he was the only monkey in his family. I didn’t know he had a brother with kids.” She giggled at her own awful joke, and Locke humored her with a forced chuckle of his own so that she wouldn’t feel bad.

  “We can’t let him get our goat by stealing the glory of going first,” Sparky said and pushed past Reginald to take the lead as they made their way down the rather large staircase. While no more than two people ever walked abreast at any given time, the passageway was easily wide enough to accommodate four or five people.

  The stairs lead directly underneath the walls in a straight line, and Locke used the opportunity to pull out the map and keep studying it as they walked down. The Tiqpa item system ensured that the map would exist as long as his character did, so he could check it as often as he wanted, but for some reason, he still felt the need to keep looking it over. It was as if he were hoping for some miracle of enlightenment to reach out to him and explain what the X’s on the map were, as if he could unlock their secret by concentrating on them long enough. Unfortunately, Locke lacked any such magical talent, and no matter how hard he looked at it, he just couldn’t figure it out.

  “Hey! You down there!” A Fire-Walker, walking with two other guards, called out from up ahead. “Get to safety! We’re being attacked!”

  Wait, is he for real? What if we were with the Holy Alliance? Shouldn’t he have attacked anyone that even remotely looked like a stranger on sight? Locke was dumbfounded that the guards hadn’t rushed them. After all, the entrances to these passageways were hidden, and from what he understood, they were generally reserved just for the Fire-Walkers. It was then that he remembered that Eliza hadn’t changed her eye color yet. Ah. Since we’re with a Demon, they can tell that we’re clearly not the enemies, he reasoned. Okay, that works out then. I guess it’s a good thing that I didn’t have her change her eye color as soon as we looted those drops back in the caverns. Locke was happy that they had managed to avoid a needless conflict for once without having to go through a massive and potentially life-threatening argument to stop the fight.

  “We’re reinforcements!” Locke called back before anyone else in the party could react. “Have they breached the citadel of glass yet?” Locke asked, happy that he remembered the name from staring at the map so long.

  “No, they’ve only just now cleared out our guards above ground and started to work their way through to the floors underneath them. They’re destroying everything in their path as they go,” the Fire-Walker explained as he approached them. “Since they don’t have any clue where the stairs are or where the tunnels travel, we’ve had some extra time to get our defenses organized and pull a few mercenary groups like yourselves to our side to help.”

  “They’re only just now breaking through? What’s taking them so long?” Locke questioned.

  “Those foolish White-Wings thought they had sealed us in! Idiots. Don’t they know that our domain is as eternal and great as the sun itself?” the Fire-Walker went into one of their typical religious comparisons. “All of the normal entrances to the city have been sealed shut, and they won’t be able to force them open for a long time. The Sun God has blessed us in many ways, and the ability to make sure an exit stays shut is one of them. Most of the gates were comprised almost entirely of glass, and there was some fear of them attempting to flood our home, so . . .” He trailed off and shrugged as if it wasn’t of consequence now.

  “We were easily able to get word out to the StormGuard Alliance without them spotting our scouts. They didn’t exactly rush to our aid right away like we had hoped, but they did launch an attack against a Holy Alliance outpost. They’ve forced those feather-brained idiots to split their forces between defending this city and protecting the garrison there. We are fortunate that we only have to fight the weaklings who weren’t able to rush to their master’s defense and lick the boots of their heretic queen.”

  Locke frowned in thought for a moment. Does he mean the High Commander I met back in Anthony’s tent? Or are the Wing-Wings ruled by a female as well? Maybe Reginald wasn’t so far off . . . He tucked the thought away for another time, and turned his attention back to the task at hand. They think that they have things tied up here and sent the majority of their forces to defend their outposts. That makes sense. The Fire-Walker’s summary of what was going on was pretty concise, his dramatic flair aside, and it didn’t take much work for Locke strip down his account down to its most basic parts. “Well, it sounds like we just need to get to the front lines as fast as we can. Do you know where they are breaking through first?”

  “Did you not get a map with your contract? Just check the X’s. Those are the spots directly under the White-Wing garrisons. They’ve been slowly working away as quietly as possible for the two weeks in those places getting ready for this,” the Fire-Walker answered, providing an answer to the burning question that had been the source of endless curiosity and frustration to Locke.

  So, that’s what those X’s are, he thought, finally feeling relieved to have that itch scratched. The White-Wings weren’t as sneaky as they thought they were. Locke grinned. He wasn’t happy that it meant they were likely going to have a skirmish or two on the way to meet up with their ot
her party members, but he was relieved that the marks weren’t death traps waiting to kill them. Knowing that fact alone, even though the X’s still represented a potential danger, was a lot better than the twisting knot in his stomach that uncertainty had given him.

  “No, we got it. We’ll rush to one of the spots right away. Thank you for your help,” Tubal answered for Locke, nodding his head before he continued down the tunnel. He didn’t get ten feet, however, before the Fire-Walker stopped him.

  Hey! Wait!” the Fire-Walker called out. “I don’t know which mercenary group the Demons hired you from, but you need identification. If red-eyes here dies, we won’t know you from one of the Holy Alliance’s little puppet groups.”

  “Oh,” Tubal stopped. “Do you have a solution?”

  “Of course. That’s why we’re waiting out here at the entrance. Here, may the blessing of the Sun God be upon you and his fire burn within your center as it does within the earth.” The Fire-Walker and his two companions started handing out armbands to the party members.

  They weren’t anything fancy, just simple, black strips of cloth with a giant red sun on one side, but they were wide enough to cover Locke’s entire arm above the elbow. They were actually so wide that he was initially concerned it might run over his elbow and limit his range of motion when he put it on. Despite the simple appearance, when he inspected its properties as soon it was on, he almost drooled.

  Bond of the Sun God: Indicates the favor of the Sun God, to whom all things owe life. When worn, grants the user +20 vitality.’

  That’s insane! That’s almost as much of a bonus to vitality as you can get from one of the best blacksmith’s shields, and this is just a stupid arm sash! If they offered these to all the players, there is no way that the entire city wouldn’t side with them. They wouldn’t even have to pay a player if this was the reward. Locke salivated even more at the sweet loot.

  “I know. It is already a great honor to be chosen to serve the Sun God, but to be given proof of his blessing? I can only imagine how happy you are,” the Fire-Walker said, misreading Locke’s reaction--and likely everyone else’s as well.

  “Oh, yes,” Locke bowed his head a little, faking reverence. Please give me another item for my devotion, he silently prayed to whatever in-game deity had given him this much luck. “We thank you humbly for your generous benefaction.” He bowed his head.

  “That’s kind of creepy, Shy.” Sampson shook her head in shame at Locke’s display.

  “There is nothing creepy about someone appreciating the boons of the God,” the Fire-Walker snapped at Sampson.

  “Of course not,” she mumbled, brushing off his zealous retort.

  Wait a minute . . . “Umm . . . we’re meeting up two more members. Could you give us two more of these?” Tubal asked the Fire-Walker. “That way they won’t be attacked either?”

  “Absolutely,” the lead Fire-Walker said as he handed Tubal two more.

  “Actually, it’s three. We’re going to need at least one more.” Locke saw an opportunity and grabbed for it. These are gold! I should have asked for more,” Locke thought as one of the side Fire-Walkers handed him an extra sash. No, if I had asked for another, then that might have been pushing it. They might have suspected something. He held off on chastising himself for the small number, but was thrilled about having even one extra.

  “Thanks again for your help,” Tubal said and then departed, the group following closely behind.

  Everyone was very careful to walk as slowly and as quietly as possible when they started getting close to the first X on the map. They definitely didn’t want to run right into an ambush or enter a battle without knowing what the odds were, but each step silently took them closer to an inevitable encounter. Is anyone up ahead? Locke strained his eyes as he tried to peer beyond the halo of light cast from their makeshift torches but didn’t dare speak and risk drawing attention from a possible attacker.

  “Coast is clear,” Reginald blurted out and darted ahead, waving his torch so that everyone could see that it was just as he said. “Let’s get going before these things break and we have to deal with a full-scale assault and a party that’s split up in the dark.”

  “Yeah, not a bad idea,” Tubal agreed, and the two of them started running with everyone else following closely behind.

  They were almost able to reach the Wench’s Best Bubbly Head without a single confrontation, running the whole way and passing by each X on the map undisturbed, when the last one between them and their destination collapsed behind them as they ran past it.

  “What do we do, boss?” Reginald looked to Tubal.

  “Turn around. We can’t have them picking us off from behind,” Tubal responded. “Shy, weaken them up. Sparky, when they land, you open a path for Eliza and Sampson.”

  Sparky shot Tubal an annoyed glance, likely because she didn’t want to be helping Eliza out again, but turned around without voicing a single objection.

  “Reginald, don’t worry about the shield at the moment. Just make sure that whoever comes through that opening is snared so we can run if we need to,” Tubal ordered, finishing the battle commands.

  Sounds good to me, Locke thought, taking out two of his bottles and waiting for the enemies to drop. It didn’t happen right away. In fact, it took almost a full minute before anyone came through the giant hole in the ceiling that led up to one of the garrisons above, but when it did happen, the descending group that plunged down came all at once and it was almost entirely White-Wings. Locke did his best to count them as they spilled down from above, but he quickly lost track of all the avian bodies falling from above. If he had to guess, there were probably around thirty people in total, and the great majority of them were rank and file White-Wing grunts, all most likely NPCs. Only three that were clearly players, two Minotaurs and a Dryad, came down the hole with them.

  Before any of them even had their feet solidly planted on the ground, Locke managed to launch five bottles of his Fragility-Poison into their midst, spread out so that they hit the whole group with only the people in the middle caught in the overlap of the explosions. He immediately switched to Deadly Poison and tossed two bottles at one of the White-Wings off to the side who was still trying to get his bearings from the descent.

  “What in the heck?” one Minotaur shouted, holding up a hand to cover his face.

  “I told you we should have let them go first,” the Dryad responded as he pulled out his weapon. “This is war! You never volunteer to be on the front lines.”

  The Minotaur didn’t respond, however. He just stared at Sparky as she charged toward him. He attempted to raise his weapon in order block the incoming attack, but he was too late, and Sparky slammed into him shield-first so hard that he rocketed backward and into a White-Wing that had just landed behind him.

  “For the Alliance!” the Dryad shouted and swung his now-readied quarterstaff at Sparky with expert precision while his friend zipped past the two like a rock slung from a slingshot.

  Sparky blocked the blow with her shield, and as soon as the staff was deflected, Sampson swung around from behind Sparky and hammered the Dryad with a swipe of her axe. The blazing, blue flames erupted out in a horizontal arc, scorching the hardwood creature.

  “That’s my present for the Alliance,” Sampson spat, swinging again.

  Eliza had broken away from the other two melee fighters and veered off to the right, expertly maneuvering through a hail of dagger stabs at her as she cut her way through several of the White-Wings. Her swords flashed out in barely-visible arcs that had a devastating effect on anything that was within arm’s reach. In only seconds, high, shrieking calls began to come from that side of the tunnel as she went to work on her adversaries.

  “We’re lucky these are mostly NPCs, Reginald, but I got a bad feeling that it won’t always be the case. How is that snare coming?” Tubal asked as he shot out fire arrows so fast they looked like extra-bright-blue raindrops falling sideways.

  “It’s comi
ng, man. Just give me a minute,” Reginald answered and kept chanting.

  “If we have that long,” Tubal said warily without ever slowing his rate of fire.

  Locke was doing his best to keep the NPC White-Wings on the edges of the group under a barrage of Deadly Poisons. He threw out a few that weren’t charged by the ‘Unlit Fuse,’ pointing them out so that Tubal could shoot them. Doing so didn’t make a big increase in damage--in fact, it was probably a little less damage overall--but he liked knowing that his opponents couldn’t clearly see them through the green cloud that sprang up when the unskilled Deadly Poisons were ignited. He also liked knowing that the vapor would hang in the air for a bit and continue doing damage to anyone else who might jump down. It was going to present a problem if any of his own front line pushed too far into it, but he had faith that they were smart enough not to let that happen.

  He would have been bored just throwing bombs from his relative safety in the rear, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Eliza. Her ability to weave between the NPCs’ daggers was something stunning. A White-Wing took a stab at her torso, and she twisted her body around in a way so that the dagger narrowly grazed past, only inches away from ripping through her somehow tightly-fitted bathrobe. She responded by striking out with one of her swords, catching the White-Wing’s arm and peeling off muscle like cheese being sliced off a wheel. It was eye-catching, impressive and seductively gruesome.