Revenge of the Gamer

Plumes of smoke drifted skyward from dozens of towers as broad swathes of the Koada’Dal’s greatest achievement were consumed by flame. Centuries of art, literature and cultural history were so much ash now. The surviving sections of Felwithe were choked with smoke and the screams of the dying. The defenders had been driven from the walls, and now they were being driven again. The dark elves harried them through the marble streets, and those high elves who stood and fought were slaughtered to a man.

Kavak had no idea where the invaders had come from or how they’d gotten so close without their assault being detected. It hardly mattered now. All that did was survival. Felwithe’s beauty was lost, but as long as Tunare’s children lived they could rebuild. They had to get to safety before the next wave crashed over them.

He rose from his crouch and peered over the cracked marble wall. It was difficult to spot anything through the haze of smoke, but he thought he spied movement in the distance. The harsh cries of Teir’Dal officers echoed through the mostly empty streets. They didn’t have long.

“Chancellor,” Kavak rounded on the man he’d sworn to protect. He stood amidst three other figures, all wearing versions of the same frightened face, “This city is lost and if we stay we die with it. You’ve lived in Felwithe longer than any of us. Is there a route out of the city?” It pained Kavak to admit the loss of his home, but like it or not it was the truth.

“The king is dead, Captain. What does it matter?” the Chancellor answered despondently. He sat toying idly with a lock of golden hair and refused to meet Kavak’s gaze. His normally snowy robes were coated with ash and a bruise purpled his delicate cheek.

Kavak crossed the room in three swift strides and backhanded the chancellor with a gauntleted hand. The older elf crashed heavily to the marble floor and raised a hand to his cheek, which bore the beginnings of another bruise. The man certainly didn’t learn very quickly.

“How dare you strike me?” the chancellor hissed as he shot to his feet. “When this is over I’ll have you in a cell until you’re grandchildren forget your name. Do you know wh-”

“I know exactly who you are,” Kavak interupted with a snarl. He tightened his hand on the hilt of his sword, and took a step closer. “Right now you are the Felwithe government, and I have a duty to get you to safety. As long as you live our people live, but if you die we are scattered and broken.”

“It’s bad enough that I have to share the same air with you after what you did, much less save your sorry hide,” Kavak loomed over the chancellor, raising a mailed fist. His auburn hair was matted in blood and probably made him even more intimidating. The chancellor certainly looked ready to wet himself.

“You can arrest me if we live long enough,” Kavak growled as he seized the man by the arm. “Now pull yourself together and help me save your life. We need a way out of this city. Do. You. Know. One?”

“I need a moment,” the man’s eyes were wide with terror, but he seemed to gather himself. “Let me see. We’re not far from the palace. Can we head for the southern gate?”

“Use your head chancellor. The gates are blocked. We need a secret way out of the city. Something the Teir’Dal won’t know about,” he explained through gritted teeth. The sight of the man quivering before him filled Kavak with disgust. If he was an example of the King’s advisors it was no surprise that they’d been overrun so quickly.

“There might be a way,” the chancellor bit a ruby lip as he rubbed futilely at an ash stain on his sleeve. “Felwithe is built atop the ruins of a far older city. The dark elves called it Caerthiel.”

“You have got to be kidding me. The Teir’Dal were right,” Alysha brushed a handful of ash stained hair from her face. You’d never know it was platinum under all the soot. She managed to make five feet seem intimidating as she glared at the chancellor. “They’ve always claimed we burned Caerthiel and to the ground and built Felwithe over its remains. You told us they were lying and that we settled these lands after the fall of Takish’Hiz. You lied to us.” Her sapphire eyes flashed.

“Now isn’t the time Alysha,” Kavak settled an affectionate hand on his fiancé’s shoulder, and her expression softened a hair. “If you want to thrash him later I’ll hold him down, but for now we need to get out of the city. Feras, Thelia get ready to move out.” He turned to face the last pair. Five people. That was all he’d been able to save, and he wasn’t sure all of them would make it.

“Chancellor, what’s the best way into the ruins beneath the city?” Kavak tightened his fist on the hilt of his sword. Thelia’s eyes glittered from the shadows in the corner of the ruined room. Feras rose wearily to his feet still cradling his mangled arm, but mustered the strength to glare at the chancellor. He’d taken the injury during the last exchange, and Kavak was too tired to heal his older brother.

“Tunare willing I believe we can,” the chancellor rose to his full height and his face brightened. He seemed crestfallen when all he received back was glowers. “If we can make it into the sewers we can find a tunnel leading into Caerthiel. From there I believe I might be able to guide us out of the city. There’s a series of tunnels that run all the way to the Butcherblock mountains.”

“Good, then let’s get moving. Feras I want you on point. Thelia take rearguard. Alysha keep an eye on the chancellor. Let’s move with a purpose people,” Kavak kept his tone confident, though he was anything but. These people looked to him for guidance and unlike the chancellor he refused to let them down. They had no one else.

Feras darted through the door and into the thick smoke. He disappeared in the haze almost immediately, though Kavak strained to catch sight of his brother anyway. There was no trace save his receding footsteps. He took the chancellor by the shoulder and shoved him after Feras. The chancellor squawked, but when he caught sight of Kavak’s face his protest died on his lips.

The ragged group filed after him as quickly as they could. They stumbled over rubble and tried not to look at the shattered buildings around them. The day before the city had been full of laughter, and it was too painful to think of all they’d lost in so short a time. No one spoke and the only sound they made was the scuffing of boots on stone, or the occasional cough from the smoke.

“Over here,” Feras called back through the haze. A moment later he could make out his brother’s form through the smoke. “I found a grate. We can enter the sewers h-” A sound like an angry hornet buzzed by Kavak and an arrow appeared in Feras’ throat.

His brother’s mouth worked soundlessly and he looked as if he wanted to ask a question. Feras sagged to his knees as blood frothed from his mouth, and he clutched weakly at the arrow with his undamaged arm. Kavak had seen enough of death to know the wound was fatal, and a part of his mind recoiled at how easily he accepted his sibling’s death. He simply could not afford the time to grieve.

“Alysha get that sewer grate open. Thelia, give us some cover,” Kavak bellowed. Alysha eyes were full of emotion, but Kavak didn’t let himself meet her gaze as staggered past. Instead he interposed himself between her and their pursuers. An arrow came streaking out of the smoke, but he batted it aside with his tower shield.

Thelia sprinted forward and leapt into the air. She kicked off the wall of a neighboring building, and let her momentum carry her high enough to catch the second story roof with one hand. She flipped atop the slate tiles and slipped her bow from her shoulder. Her hands blurred as she knocked an arrow and let it fly, and a moment later they were rewarded with an agonized cry in the distance.

“That ought to keep their heads down,” Thelia gave a wild laugh. She plastered herself flat against the roof to make her profile smaller. “Get out of here Kav. I’ll hold them off.”

Alysha barked words in a discordant language, and an explosion of light flashed through the smoke. Where the grate had been now lay a smoking hole, and the chancellor’s terrified wheezing grew fainter as he dropped into it. Kavak’s fiancé dove in seconds later, and he sprinted after them as arrows fell like rain.

Something punched into his back with a sharp stab of agony, and he staggered forward in an attempt to keep his balance. Kavak tripped on the shattered edge of the sewer grate, and tumbled through to crash heavily into the tepid water at the bottom of the long drop. The arrow in his back snapped as he landed, and a fresh wave of agony washed over him.

“Which way?” he gasped as he staggered to his feet dripping with muck. The chancellor’s face was pale with terror, and his eyes were wide and unfocused. “Chancellor, which way?” he repeated after several heartbeats.

“Oh, uh, this way,” the chancellor hurried up the narrow passage. His formerly white robes were now completely brown, and the hem floating in the filth as the old elf hobbled through the waist high muck for all he was worth.

“Are you alright Kav?” Alysha’s delicate hand settled on his shoulder and he turned wearily towards her. Tunare, but she was beautiful.

“As long as you’re in my life I’ll always be fine,” He stroked her chin tenderly with one gauntleted hand, and she graced him with a smile. “We’d better get moving. Come on.” Kavak hurried after the chancellor with Alysha wading through the muck after them.

“How long will Thelia be able to keep them at bay?” her voice was taut with worry, and her robes were in nearly as sorry a
state as the chancellor’s. Thelia was her best friend, more so since she’d introduced the two of them three years ago.

“A minute at most. Probably less. It’s best to assume they’re right behind us,” Kavak shot a nervous glance over his shoulder as they continued down the tunnel. “I’m just hoping she was smart enough to flee before they caught her. If they know who they’re chasing the might let her go and come after us.”

“You want them to come after me?” the chancellor’s voice rose to a nervous shriek. “Are you insane?”

“Shut up,” Alysha and Kavak chorused. The chancellor quailed and turned back to finding his way through the muck.

“Kav, if we don’t make it through this I just wanted you to know…” Alysha began, but he silencing her by placing a finger to her lips.

“We’re going to make it. Hold onto that Aly. We’re going to make it,” he bent low to give her a quick kiss, but it was cut short by the sound of harsh Teir’Dal voices from behind them. They’d found the sewer grate.

Kavak and Alysha hurried after the chancellor who was disappearing around a bend in the distance. They were tired, and in Kavak’s case in a great deal of pain, so they saved their breath for running. What felt like hours passed as they slogged through the muck filled tunnels, and Kavak got the sense that they were going down a gentle slope.

Eventually the chancellor stopped in front of a discolored brick wall. Other than the whitish cast to the stone it looked identical to the walls they’d been walking by, but the man seemed to believe they’d found something of great import.

“We need some way to break the wall,” he sighed as he ran both hands along the smooth surface. “Can you do something, Sir Kavak?”

“Use a spell. You’re one of the most powerful wizards in Felwithe aren’t you?” he shot back sourly. He was in a foul mood, and was worried that the muck would infect his injuries. “It will get through there with a lot less noise than I’d make. If I batter that thing down the Teir’Dal will definitely hear.”

“Yes, but if I use a spell they will feel it. They’ll track us to this exact location in a matter of moments,” the chancellor placed his hands on his hips like weapons. “Which would you prefer? They hear a noise and guess our direction, or they track us with unerring accuracy?”

“Fine. Get out of the way then.” Kavak growled. He raised his tower shield and charged the wall with all the strength he could muster. Metal crashed into stone, and he toppled through the wall in a shower of dust and brick. The sound had been deafening, and he knew the Teir’Dal must have heard. How close were they?

“Are you alright?” Alysha stepped through and helped him to his feet.

“I’m fine,” he grunted through gritted teeth. He was in agony and the wound in his back sent pulses of fire surging through him every time he moved.

His eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimness, but when they did he had a much better look at their surroundings. They were in a long corridor that led to a narrow flight of stairs in the distance. Sconces were set along the walls, but unlike the sewer they were empty and the tunnel was as black as the souls of the invaders.

“This way,” the chancellor squeezed past Kavak. He left a wet trail that stank of refuse as he hurried down the corridor to the stairs. Kavak allowed Alysha to pass him as well before following.

Their infravision was helpful in spotting other living things, but here they were as blind as a human. The trio descended the steps using their fingers to guide them along the walls. Kavak tried counting them, but gave up after the first hundred. Many minutes later they were still descending and there seemed to be no end in sight. That was when they heard it.

“Listen,” he hissed, and the three of them froze. No one even dared to breathe. From above they heard the unmistakable sound of metal shod boots on stone. Their pursuers had found the tunnel. He turned back to them and whispered. “Keep moving. As quickly as you can. Alysha, do you have your wineskin?”

“I do,” she answered, but there was confusion in her voice. She found his hand in the dark and pressed the leather bound skin into it.

“Keep moving. I’m right behind you,” he knelt as the pair continued their descent. Pouring carefully he slicked one of the steps with wine, and then drew out his skin and repeated the process two steps down. If he was very lucky one of the Teir’Dal would lose their footing and fall to his death. It would also warn them that their pursuers had reached this point.

Kavak sprinted down the stairs and within a few minutes had caught back up to Alysha and the chancellor. They were waiting at a landing at the bottom of the stairs. He couldn’t see far, but something about the way the air moved told him he was in a wide room.

“Do you sense that?” the chancellor whispered to Alysha. “There’s something powerful off that way.” It was too dark for Kavak to see which direction the man pointed.

“I feel it,” apprehension colored her voice. “What is it?”

“I don’t know but we’re going to find out.” Kavak interrupted. “Our pursuers are getting closer and they aren’t tired or wounded. They’re going to catch us unless we can find a way to block the tunnel behind us, or we can find a weapon to use against them.”

As if to punctuate his words a distant clatter echoed down the stairs. It went on for long moments and grew louder before finally stopping. Good, one of them had fallen into his trap and that might make the rest a bit more wary. Maybe that would slow them down.

Kavak shifted his vision briefly and caught the warm outlines of his pursuers some way up the stairs. He counted seven, and knew they’d be the best the Teir’Dal could send. Their darker cousins knew that the only way to end the Koada’Dal once and for all was to kill their leadership. Short of the king none stood higher than the chancellor, and that meant he’d be their top target.

“Over here,” Alysha gave an excited call. Kavak hurried over to find her and the chancellor standing in front of a wide door.

“What am I looking at?” he whispered.

“Lumous,” the chancellor whispered and a clear white light sprang into existence. He kept it shielded by his body, but the damage had been done. Excited shouts came from their pursuers.

At least the light showed Kavak what he was looking at. The door was cut from thick slats of oak that were black with age. Red runes had been traced in the door, and in place of a handle was a raised section with a handprint molded into it.

“Doors like these were made to entrap powerful spirits.” the chancellor explained. “The runes are Teir’Dal, and they represent the most dire warning I’ve ever seen. I very much doubt they’ll follow us if we enter.”

“So let me see if I understand,” Kavak hissed. “You want to enter a room that contains a spirit even the Teir’Dal feared on the hopes that our pursuers will be too frightened of what’s inside to follow?” He turned to Alysha, “Does this make sense to you?”

“You were the one who said we don’t have any other choice. Either get ready to fight them here or let me open the door. I leave the choice to you, captain.” the chancellor shot back frostily.

“Do it,” Kavak sighed after a moment’s hesitation. Whatever was behind the door gave them a chance, no matter how dire it might be. If they stayed here they faced certain death.

The chancellor placed his hand over the palm print and a soft crimson glow flared into life as the runes responded. The trio held a collective breath, but after a moment the runes flared brightly and then winked out. The door swung open a few inches of its own accord.

“It worked,” the chancellor sounded surprised. “Something in the magic must see me as royalty. Lucky for us it did.”

“Yeah, lucky,” Kavak replied with a great deal of sarcasm. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Seeing no immediate threat he ushered the other pair in after him before pressing the door closed.

“Kavak, look at this,” Alysha’s voice was filled with wonder despite their current circumstances. He turned to see what had fascinated her.

The illumination from the chancellor’s spell provided enough light to see, but the corners of the room were still shrouded in shadow. They were standing in a wide antechamber with a throne propped on a dais at the room’s far end. On that throne sat a skeletal figure with a silver diadem on its brow, and its right hand rested on a naked blade laid across its knees.

“He must have been there since before Felwithe was built. I wonder who he was? Or how many centuries this room has lain undisturbed,” she mused. Her eyes had taken on a light of feverish excitement, and she crossed the dusty cobblestones as she headed for the throne.

“Touch nothing,” the chancellor boomed, sending echoes through the room. “Do not forget the warning on the door Alysha. They very much wished to keep something trapped in this room, so much so that at least one person gave is life to power the runes outside.”

“You’re right,” she shook her head as if coming out of a trance. “I’m sorry. I should have known better. I’m not sure what came over me.”

Conversation died and they settled in to wait. Kavak made a quick circuit of the room, but the throne was the only thing of interest. The door they’d used was the only way in or out, and when he’d finished he returned to that side of the room. He leaned heavily against the wall and propped his shield next to him. Loosening his sword in its scabbard he settled in to wait. It didn’t take long.

Within minutes excited whispering in Teir’Dal sounded outside the door. They seemed to be arguing though he didn’t speak their language and couldn’t be sure. Eventually one side won, and their pursuers went quiet. A moment later a flash of red could be seen from under the door, and a Teir’Dal curse followed a cry of pain.

“They’re trying to get in,” the chancellor’s voice was no longer afraid. Now it was flat and heavy with defeat.

“When they come through I’ll take their initial charge. Chancellor if you know any spells that can kill a man quickly now would be the time to use them,” Kavak panted. He rose from his resting place and picked up his shield. He dearly wanted to lay down and rest, but he needed to attend to his duty. He could rest when he was dead.

Something heavy thudded against the door. After a moment it sounded again. Were they trying to chop through the thick wood?

“Why aren’t the runes keeping them out?” he asked the chancellor.

“We broke them when we entered,” the elder elf sighed. “I was afraid this might happen. The room didn’t reseal itself properly when the door closed. They’ll be able to chop through that wood, and the spell is too weak to stop them.”

Again and again it fell until the wood began to shiver. Minutes passed until one of the blows punctured the wood. The silvery gleam of an axe head could be seen, but then it was jerked away and a tiny hole was left in the door. The Teir’Dal voices chittered excitedly and the axe continued to fall.

Kavak longed to go to Alysha, to comfort her and tell her loved her. The best he could do was look at her, but he poured his heart into that glance. Her smile said she knew what he couldn’t say, and that she shared it. At least they would die together.

The door crashed open in a shower of splinters that rebounded off his shield like hail. A figure leapt through the gap, but Kavak glided forward to meet him. He caught the assassin’s blow on his shield, and then rammed his blade into the man’s thigh. Before the Teir’Dal could respond he swung his shield with all his strength catching his opponent full in the face. The poor fool stumbled into his companions in a spray of blood before collapsing bonelessly to the floor.

Unfortunately this left Kavak open and a hail of crossbow bolts that shot through the door. One ricocheted off his breastplate and another went wide. The third caught him in the hand and he dropped his tower shield with a clatter. The bolt pierced both sides of his gauntlet, and three inches of blood stained wood jutted from the back of his hand.

Kavak waded into his foes determined to take as many with him as he could. The first pair held crossbows, and now that they’d fired they were virtually unarmed. He lunged forward with his sword and impaled the first man through the heart, but when the man staggered back he ripped the sword from Kavak’s grip.

Without pausing Kavak stepped into the doorway. He backhanded one of his assailants and the bolt jutting through the back of his hand caught the Teir’Dal in the eye killing him instantly. He reached for his belt knife, but the attackers gave him no time to reach it. One of them came to the crescendo on some sort of spell, and Kavak had a sinking feeling as the words died away.

A force picked him up like a ragdoll and hurled him across the chamber. He sailed nearly forty feet and crashed heavily into the throne, knocking it from its perch. The throne and the skeletal figure tumbled to the cobblestones in a massive clatter, and Kavak was trapped under the mess. Struggle as he might he couldn’t free himself, which meant his attackers could kill him at their leisure.

“Chancellor,” an ivory haired Teir’Dal sorceress in finely cut robes stepped into the room. The three surviving assassins all wore black masks over the lower half of their faces, and heeled her like well trained hounds. “At last we meet. You led us quite the chase. If its any consolation you did far better than your king, who is now absent his head I’m afraid.” Harsh laughter came from the assassins.

“Kill them,” the sorceress jerked a finger and the assassins flowed into the room. Their first target was Alysha who stood protectively in front of the chancellor. This couldn’t be happening. Alysha was about to die and he couldn’t even move.

I can give you the power to save her. A voice sounded in his head, though where it came from he couldn’t say. All you have to do is pick up the sword and you will have the strength to kill the Teir’Dal.

Resting within easy reach was the blade that had lain across the skeleton’s knees. It was an ancient weapon, and the blade was spotted with rust. It certainly didn’t look like much. Kavak considered picking it up, but the runes on the door were fresh in his mind. There was no telling what would happen if he took up that sword.

Time is running out. If you don’t act now she’ll die. The weapon whispered seductively.

That made up his mind. Perhaps something catastrophic would happen, but the alternative was laying there helpless while the woman he loved and the man he’d sworn to protect were killed in front of him. Kavak seized the hilt and willed whatever force had spoken to him to give him the power to save them.

Triumphant cackling filled his mind and suddenly he was tumbling backwards. Something seized control of his body, and thrust the throne off of him with far more strength than his body ever could have mustered. It flipped away from him drawing the eyes of the assassins who’d nearly reached Alysha.

“He’s possessed by the An’Khalesh,” the sorceress shrieked. “Kill him. Do it now before he’s fully awake!”

The three assassins fanned out to encircle him. Kavak’s normal response would have been to charge, but he was no longer in charge of his body. Whoever or whatever was gave a sardonic smile, and let the tip of his sword rest against the ground. He waited until the assassins had encircled him before speaking.

“So, these are my descendants. I’m not terribly impressed. Let’s see how well you fight,” the voice was his and yet not his. It terrified him to hear someone else using his throat.

Then the dance began. Each assassin wielded a pair of short blades, and they darted and spun around Kavak in an attempt to stab him. Had he been himself he’d have been dead in the first few seconds. As it was he toyed with them. For the first minute he did nothing but avoid and parry, and he made it look effortless.

“Pathetic,” he drawled, and then the killing started. His blade hummed as it sliced into an opponent’s gut, but before the man sagged to the ground the sword flicked unerringly toward the second man’s heart. He brought up his weapon to parry, but Kavak’s strength seemed limitless. His rusty sword sheered through his opponent’s weapon like cheap tin, and continued on to impale the man through the chest.

He lunged forward with his free hand to seize the final assassin by the throat. The man beat furiously at his hand, but couldn’t free himself from Kavak’s grip. He interposed the man’s body between him and the sorceress just as the sorceress finished a spell. A huge ball of ice the size of a comet shot towards him, and it impacted against the assassin he used as a shield.

The man gave a brief shriek that cut off abruptly, and then Kavak hurled the corpse towards the sorceress. She dodged nimbly out of the way, but that gave him time to sprint across the room. By the time the sorceress looked up it was to see his blade crashing down on her shoulder. It sheared through her chest neatly bisecting her, and spilling her corpse to the ground in a pool of blood.

Kavak was speechless. With the sword he’d wiped out the assassins, and it had saved the lives of his charge and his fiancé. Thank you. He thought to the sword. Do you have a name?

My name is Misery. The sword thought back in a smug voice. I wouldn’t thank me just yet. I’m not done.

All Kavak could do was scream silently in his own head as he realized what the sword meant. It bore down on Alysha, and her look of horror and betrayal broke his heart. Kavak couldn’t look away as his sword rose and fell in a flash. Color went out of the world. He knew now why the sword was called Misery.