(a/n: Here you go, a long new chapter. I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think.)
Ch.5: Dancing with a Stranger
Night had fallen over the forest the same as it always did for the last week or so: quiet and without a fuss. The sky lost the remaining light of dusk, turning from pink and a deep burnt orange, to a dark blue, almost black, color. Stars had already appeared alongside a crescent moon as Gareth stepped out the front door.
The bard breathed in the cool night air. He stretched a little, trying his best to take his mind off of his nervousness. Adjusting his feathered cap, the bard looked about and admired the recently completed fortifications. Surrounding the clearing in which the Bronze Ox inn and all its attending structures were tall palisades of wood and earth. Beyond those walls were spike filled trenches and a few layers of traps scattered about in the forest, which would ensnare any potential enemies and alert them to their presence. After reviewing and inspecting the recently completed fortifications, Gareth was satisfied with what Osric and the elves had wrought.
However, despite the overall quality of these new walls and trenches, the bard couldn't help but feel a little bit paranoid. What if they do encounter other people and they prove to be hostile? Their defenses could probably deter a small force, but Gareth wasn't sure if it could withstand a large army, heavily armed with siege weapons or worse, magic. There was also the issue of the walls being made of wood. Gareth, his brother, and Osric discussed at length some ideas of a stronger and more permanent option, though those plans were to be discussed further once the brothers returned from their little outing.
While the bard had grown to trust Caroline in the last two days, he would feel more comfortable if he were there personally to oversee things and help out. Gareth tugged his sleeve up a little in order to glance at his wrist to check the time, but stopped when he remembered that he no longer had a watch. He absentmindedly rubbed his wrist, which felt strangely naked and lighter without the little timepiece.
Everyday for almost a decade Gareth would keep to a strict schedule that centered on work. He'd be up early in the morning, getting ready and having a quick breakfast before making his way to the office. The blond could envision the well-beaten path he'd take to work. Setting out from his sparsely furnished and lonesome apartment, heading directly to the underground subway and getting off at the station that was a short walk away from the office. Once there, he'd weave his way through the maze of cubicles and desks until he reached his little workspace. Tucked away in the far corner, hidden among numerous other desks and cubicles, the bard would settle in and get to work.
Occasionally, throughout the monotonous workday, Gareth would glance at his watch and count down to lunch and then to the end of the workday. Day in and day out, this routine had been his life. At home, he'd log on to Yggdrasil or, rarely, another game. After being banished from the Emerald Legion, Gareth began spending his free time watching old movies and TV shows available online or reading a book until he worked up the energy to make dinner.
It was surreal. Over a week ago, he was watching old action films alone, wearing only a t-shirt and shorts, eating some store bought noodles and drinking some diet soda.
But now that he was in this new world, Gareth was literally a different man. He was taller, blond, and better looking. He was currently dressed like he was going to a fantasy convention or a Renaissance festival. The bard wore a dark green cloak over an orange doublet, chainmail and a white shirt. At his side hung his trusty silver longsword, Nightbane, in its sheath. Although he never held or used a sword in real life, there was a sense of familiarity with this weapon. When Gareth picked it up and decided to use it on their journey, the bard felt like he was greeting an old friend. It was the same with every weapon he pulled from his storage chest. No matter which one, the grip and the weight of each dagger, sword and spear felt unusually familiar. He related this feeling to Kane as they planned their trip, sorting through their items and packing what they needed.
The vampire shared similar thoughts he had and theorized that it must be their new bodies, their in-game characters. They've played as a bard and as an assassin for almost a decade and with their avatars brought to life, those experiences must've been made real as well. This worried Gareth a little and made him wonder aloud if this means that their memories and experiences may slowly erode and be replaced by something else. Kane shivered at the thought.
After some philosophical musings on the horrific potential of their memories relating to their former lives being overridden and forgotten, the two refocused on the trip.
This trip was important. They're in a new world, and heaven knows what they might encounter. They may even encounter new people. Would they be human? How advanced would they be? So many questions and possibilities, it can drive a man to insanity. Whatever they may face, Gareth and Kane both settled on a simple and effective strategy. If there were people, and if they were ordinary humans, they needed to lay low. Since their abilities are real, they need to be able to blend in and hide their strengths. They needed to stay out of the spotlight and not draw any unwanted attention. With no regular clothes and modern weapons, the two decided to gear up as their characters.
After some careful consideration about their journey, Gareth decided to go for a plain, yet sturdy weapon: a high quality steel long sword. Much like its siblings, the blade felt he was holding a familiar old tool that he had been using for years. A couple of test swings later, and the bard felt as though he were complete again, as if some missing piece finally clicked into place.
Gareth adjusted his cloak a little, still trying to adjust to wearing medieval fantasy clothing. This radical change in his life, while extraordinary and life altering, it wasn't altogether unpleasant. The bard's ordinary life was slow, boring, monotonous and rather sad. He'd work, eat, sleep, and retreat to the digital world of Yggdrasil and the Internet. Not exactly the life he'd wanted, but it was something. He had order and a routine. But with those gone, Gareth wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do now. For the first day or so, he tried to busy himself with helping in the fortification construction efforts and the kitchens.
This didn't work.
When the bard tried to lend a hand, the elves and Osric got frantic, thanking him profusely and pleaded that he would allow them to do their "duty." He reluctantly left them to their duty and sought other things to keep himself busy. Fortunately, Kane was there and had dragged him off a short distance into the woods to test their new abilities.
Gareth's thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door behind him open. Out stepped his brother, Kane. The vampire was dressed in his black cloak, which covered him from the throat to his knees. His long black hair was done up in a knot, keeping his face free of any obstructions.
The bard looked his brother up and down. "Ready?"
Kane opened his cloak, revealing twin short swords with long curved blades, dangling on either side of his waist in their dark leather and wood scabbards. The bard recognized his brother's favorite weapons, the twin short swords he dubbed Reaper's Talons.
During the course of their training sessions, the vampire had gotten reacquainted with his old weapons and practiced with them. In a matter of minutes, the vampire went from slow and hesitant movements to the quick and fluid motions of an adept assassin.
The bard also discovered his own talent with a bladed weapon. Like Kane, his movements were slow and awkward but then, as his brother progressed during their clumsy sparring session, so did he. Gareth was able to match and counter Kane's fluid grace with his own. This clash of blades went on for several minutes before the two managed to come to a standstill, with their respective blades leveled at the other's throat. Neither were certain how they got to that point but they decided to call it a day, just in case either one or both of them got badly hurt.
As Kane adjusted his cloak and the bracers on his forearms, Gareth noticed the basketball sized brown bag with drawstrings slung over his brother's shoulder. The bard made sure that he had his own and felt reassured. It would've been embarrassing to set out on a trip without his Bag of Holding, which was carrying some crucial supplies.
"Ready as I'll ever be." The vampire said with a giddy smile.
The two left the inn, working their way down the path toward the newly completed front gate. As they walked toward the lone entrance that waited them down hill, the bard noticed some of the elves walking along the walls close by, keeping a vigilant watch on the dark forest beyond. Though they were dressed like maids and appeared to be small elves with no combat experience, Gareth knew that at least half of the dozen elves at the Bronze Ox could more than handle themselves in battle.
Rina, for example, was more than just another maid who worked in the kitchens. The green haired timid elf that couldn't look Kane in the eye was a fairly high-leveled Ranger. Her connection with nature and her skills with a bow made her a force to be reckoned with, which was how they attained a steady supply of meat and blood. There was also Astril, a tall, auburn haired elf that tended to the pigs and the chickens kept behind the inn. She proved herself to be a very competent fighter when, according to reports after the fact, a large wolf tried to attack her, the young elf tore it to pieces. Needless to say, if there ever was an attack, Caroline and the elves won't make it easy on their attackers.
Closer to the gate, Gareth spied Osric's brother, the stable master Randor, standing beside Lydia. The two were standing in front of Caroline and Osric, talking about something in soft voices. The dwarf was the same height as his brother and just as solid. While Osric was bald and had a wild ginger beard, Randor had flowing raven locks and a well-kept black beard.
As they got closer, Caroline and Osric acknowledged their approach and bowed.
"Oh no…" Kane murmured.
Gareth glanced at his brother and looked back toward the gathering before them. In the faint moonlight, the bard could see that both Lydia and Randor were lugging packs and wore matching brown cloaks. Underneath the cloaks, the bard could see that the two were dressed for travel and battle. The raven-haired dwarf was dressed in a shiny breastplate and mail, his hands clad in thick gloves. Strapped to his back was a heavy looking two-headed battle axe, sharpened, cleaned and looked ready to be buried in an enemy's skull.
On top of a rather plain looking grey dress, Lydia was encased in a set of leather armor, complete with studded bracers, shin guards and fingerless gloves. Though she didn't look like she could endure a hail of arrows or swords, the silver haired elf's armor suited her. Her skills and her class required her to be lightly armored for speed and mobility. Lydia was a high level fighter and a monk, probably one of the highest leveled elves in the Inn.
Both Gareth and Kane were surprised by her class, her levels and her skills when they reviewed the NPC stats menu. As to why Lydia, let alone the other elves in an inn, would need such levels and skills, neither of the brothers could guess. But, after some consideration, Gareth suggested that they lucked out and that Lydia's tragic backstory may have had a hand in it.
When Gareth and Kane reached the assembled NPCs at the front gate, the bard and the vampire decided to play stupid.
"What's all this, then?" Gareth asked, his voice soft but regal.
"My Lord Gareth," Caroline replied, curtseying. "Forgive us, I know you made it abundantly clear that you and your brother were to go alone but…" the angelic woman trailed off, but Osric picked up for her.
"We just felt that it would be improper to leave you both unprotected." The dwarven chef said in a steady and humble tone.
"You think us defenseless?" Kane asked, his voice was soft but it made the former NPCs rigid.
"N-Not at all, my lords." Osric sputtered. "It's just-it's just-"
"We couldn't bear it if any harm were to befall you both." Lydia spoke up, meekly. "It is our sacred duty, our very purpose in life, is to protect and serve you both. If anything were to happen to you and we weren't there…" The silver haired elf fell silent, but neither the angelic bard nor the vampiric assassin needed her to finish that sentence. They both caught her meaning.
Gareth glanced at his brother. Kane merely glanced back at him and they both returned their gazes back to their NPCs, who at this point were bowing low, their faces toward the ground. Although they wanted this trip to be private and relaxing, Gareth decided to acquiesce.
"Very well, then." Gareth said at last, keeping his voice formal. "You may accompany us."
Caroline, Osric, Randor, and Lydia all looked relieved and deeply pleased.
"However," Kane added, his voice a low growl. "You must obey our orders without question. It is important that we all work as one. Understand?"
"Yes, my lord!" Randor and Lydia answered at once.
"Good!" Gareth laughed, clapping his hands together. "Very good! Now, off we go then!"
Caroline nodded, and with the snap of her fingers, the tall, thick gates creaked open. Beyond the threshold, Gareth and Kane peered out onto the new world. In the faint moonlight, they could see the small path their elves made, some clear space between their makeshift fortress, and the forest beyond.
Kane moved to exit through the gate, but Randor held up a hand.
"A-allow me, my liege." The dwarf said, his voice was deep but soft like velvet.
The vampire sighed, and gestured for the dwarf to proceed.
Randor bowed humbly and pulled his axe free from its place on his back. The raven haired dwarf proceeded, stepping carefully across the threshold. Lydia followed suit, raising her hands in a type of fighter's stance and scanned the dark forest beyond. After a few uneventful moments, Randor and Lydia looked back at their lords.
"It's safe, my lords!" Randor informed the two proudly.
["I could've told him that."] Kane grumbled in Gareth's head, using the [Message] function. [I mean, I'm the one with night vision and super hearing.]
["Shh."] Gareth replied in his mind, throwing a look at his brother. ["They're only trying to help."]
Kane scowled. ["This is going to be a long-ass vacation."] he complained as he stepped through the gate and joined Randor and Lydia. Gareth moved to follow, but Caroline grabbed his arm.
"My lord." she said softly. Gareth felt his heart stop. He remembered that Kane had made some unnecessary changes to Caroline's backstory and character traits as a joke. Unfortunately, when Caroline spawned into this New World, it made them very real. The joke was that Caroline harbored affections for Gareth, which meant that she'd treat him like he was the embodiment of perfection. She'd give him these dreamy looks and pay very close attention to him whenever he spoke. Hell, she even helped Osric prepare his breakfast that morning, hoping to, in her words, "Brighten his day."
Gareth wasn't completely hopeless in talking to women, let alone people. Sure, he was shy and mostly kept to himself, but he learned how to interact and socialize on Yggdrasil, making friends both male and female. However, with Caroline, she was different. She was stunning and could light up a room with her presence, not with just her personality, but with her passive abilities as an angel. As beings of celestial origins, angels like Gareth and Caroline had passive abilities that really benefit the world around them. One such ability was essentially a mood booster that made everything light, calm, and even cheerful. In the game, it helped up some minor stats and provided some measure of protection. In this New World, the room literally lights up, and both brothers could feel the different environment. Osric and the others all just seem to cheer up and go about their day with vigor and energy.
There was also the fact that Caroline was perhaps the most powerful NPC at the inn, outclassing Osric, Neremyn, and Lydia by a country mile. There was the fear that, if Caroline snapped or if they did anything that might upset her, she might go ballistic and if she went ballistic, both brothers might get seriously hurt.
Gareth swallowed hard and turned to Caroline. The white haired angel gazed into his eyes with twinkling, hopeful sapphires, which made the bard weak in the knees.
"Y-Yes?" Gareth said, slowly forcing the words out of his mouth.
"Please be careful." She asked, her eyes wide and pleading. "And please return to us."
"I-uh-We certainly will return and we'll return with information on the outside world" Gareth promised, finishing with an award winning smile.
Relief washed away the concern and worry on her face. Caroline smiled.
"Good luck, my lord." She smiled warmly. "And safe travels."
The angel released Gareth's arm from her gentle grip. Gareth tipped his cap to her and strolled out through the gates.
Outside, he turned and took one last look at the inn and Caroline. The tall, white haired angel stood there with the bald dwarf at her side. With a wave of her hand, Caroline bid them farewell, and the gates slowly creaked shut.
Although Gareth was unsure about Caroline, he felt as though he could trust her in this instance to keep the inn safe and protected. The bard turned to his brother and their companions. Behind them lay the dark and unknown of the forest.
They had conducted some minor preliminary surveys and journeys into the forest but didn't get very far. From Kane's initial view of the woods, from his accidental super jump, he had spied a long, winding dirt road just beyond the trees. With the road in mind, the brothers had their starting point.
After adjusting his cap and his emerald cloak, Gareth nodded to the wall of nature before them. "Right," he said with a sigh. "Let's crack on!"
Kane rolled his eyes, knowing that Gareth got that from an old British film, but Lydia and Rando nodded with the solemnity of a pair of novices toward a seasoned explorer who knows what he's doing. Thus, the party of the Bronze Ox Inn set off, delving into the dark and silent woods.
After what felt like an hour, the angelic bard, the vampire, the dwarf and the elf emerged from the dark tangle of the forest. Gareth carefully brushed off some leaves and removed some insects from his cloak, while Kane stuffed some into his mouth to, in his words over [Message], to experiment and see if he could sate his bloodthirst with bugs. Judging from the look on his face, the bard assumed that his peculiar little experiment didn't yield the results that he had hoped.
Looking about, Gareth and the rest of his party found themselves in a wide open field. Behind them, the forest stretched on for as far as the eye could see in either direction. Before them were corpses of trees and, just as they had hoped, the dirt road.
After Randor and Lydia stepped onto the well-beaten track of earth and rock that cut its way through the green grass, Gareth and Kane inspected it for themselves. The dirt road was just that, a dirt road. It was wide and rather flat. There were some wheel ruts and faint animal prints in the dirt, but other than that, it was just a simple dirt road one would find. Although Lydia and Rando were tense and looked like they were expecting an ambush, Gareth and Kane were interested in the road and in the landscape they were currently in.
Neither of the brothers had ever left the confines of their home city, or even of the city in which they lived in. Although there were national parks and other stretches of nature that the government went to great lengths to preserve and protect for themselves and for their citizens, neither of the two really went beyond.
They grew up hearing stories and watching shows about people going out into nature, getting away from city life and civilization. From the few people they both knew who did, those people did feel the same as people did way back in the day, but they always mentioned this omnipresent feeling of civilization lurking close by, almost as if they really weren't out in nature. But here, Gareth and Kane both felt like castaways in an endless sea of green.
For miles, Kane could hear nothing but the sound of bugs and the various little woodland animals. He could smell nothing but the rich, overpowering aroma of flowers, trees, and dirt. It was overwhelming and all consuming. While strange, it was invigorating to the two brothers.
"My lords?" Randor spoke up.
The two snapped out of their respective reveries and looked to Randor. The raven haired dwarf looked to them expectantly.
"Into which direction shall we proceed?" the dwarf asked.
Kane's ruby eyes flicked to Gareth, who turned his head slowly in order to look in both directions. The road seemed to go on for miles with nothing but nature in sight. Keeping the inn at his back, the angelic bard pondered. Where shall they go? After some brief but careful deliberation, involving a mental round of eeny, meeny, miny, moe, Gareth came to a decision.
"We shall proceed… that way." The bard declared, pointing to the left.
Kane, Randor, and Lydia gazed in the direction in which Gareth's finger pointed.
Randor nodded. "Very well then!"
Lydia smiled. "Excellent choice!"
The two set off ahead in order to check for traps or trigger any ambush. Meanwhile, Kane glanced at his brother.
["I don't see anything."] The vampire informed him over [Message]. ["Still, doesn't mean there's nothing, but who knows? Maybe we'll find a 7-11."]
"Whatever." Gareth murmured, and the two brothers set off after their NPC companions.
Kane let out a long, drawn out sigh. Though he was initially excited with exploring this new world, the vampire quickly grew bored. Before, he naively believed that this little trip was going to be interesting, a change of scenery with a side order of action and discovery. Unfortunately, he came to discover something that the fantasy movies and books tend to leave out: the long, mind-numbing journey. Within the first half hour of the journey, Kane wished that they brought their mounts. Sure, they could just summon them anywhere and anytime (with a few possible exceptions), But unfortunately, Gareth had discouraged that idea, in the event they do run into new people.
Kane reluctantly agreed. From the brief period of time they spent with their now real mounts, the vampire knew right off the bat that they wouldn't be leaving a good first impression if they showed up on a haughty hippogriff and an anti-social vampire wolf. Those two fantasy animals were huge and were very temperamental, at least to anyone whose not them. Gareth's hippogriff, Proudwing, was just as his name suggested. The large half eagle, half horse creature exuded arrogance. There were very few who could approach the creature, including Gareth, Randor, and, surprisingly, Caroline. The few times he'd been around Proudwing, Kane noticed how the hippogriff stood tall and kept its head high, almost as if it knew that it was better than everyone. Kane's mount, Loki, was not any better. The large, war horse-sized vampire-wolf snarled and snapped at anyone who dared to approach him, if he didn't want them. It took some time and near injuries but the wolf warmed up to Randor and some of the elves at the inn. Strangely, he took a liking to Caroline instantly, but that was probably because of her unnatural angelic aura. To put those two ill-mannered animals near strange people would likely result in a bloodbath.
The vampire adjusted his cloak and stretched his arms, causing his joints to pop. He tried sleeping on one of the beds they had back at the inn, but couldn't get any sleep. Gareth had suggested that he try sleeping in a confined, coffin-like space, since he was a vampire. Osric made him a makeshift coffin and Kane gave it a shot. He ended up getting the best night's sleep he's had since ever, even though it was cramped as hell.
Kane let his arms dangle and swing lazily at his side as he trudged alongside his brother. The dark and silent countryside was devoid of streetlights and any form of civilization. High in the sky a half moon shone like a broken pearl. To the ordinary observer, it was dark and silent. But to Kane the vampire, it was alive with sound and activity, and the darkness did little to hide the landscape around them, even as the road led them through some dense greenery.
The low, buzzing music of nocturnal insects hummed all around them. A short distance away from the road, Kane spied a small, furry shape dart between the bushes. Probably a rabbit, judging from the speed and shape of it. His ruby eyes wandered, trying to find something to take his mind off of his growing boredom, Kane found nothing. Except…
The vampire frowned, pausing abruptly. He squinted, focusing on a patch of forest. A wall of trees and bushes stood, obscuring something vaguely humanoid. It was a rather strange sight. He didn't have X-ray vision or anything, but he could see a sort of green glowing aura among the trees. At first he didn't think much of it, maybe he was just seeing things but that theory went out the window when he heard some whispers and metallic clinks. The vampire tensed and focused on the aura. Kane took a deep breath, and he caught a strong whiff of horse and metal.
"Hey." Gareth suddenly said.
Kane blinked, and looked at his brother. Gareth, Lydia, and Randor had all stopped, with the two NPCs a little further up the road than them and Gareth only a few feet away.
"Something wrong?" The bard asked, a concerned look on his face.
"Probably." Kane said in a low voice, trying not to be heard.
Gareth raised an eyebrow. Kane nodded toward the aura soaked forest ahead and to the right of them. "You see that?" the vampire asked.
The bard followed his brother's gaze and squinted. "I don't see anything," Gareth informed him with a shrug.
"Try your magic eyes," Kane urged.
Gareth murmured something under his breath and looked again. This time the blond angel's eyebrows shot up.
"Oh!" the blond exclaimed, before quickly covering his mouth. His other hand slid to the sword at his side. Gareth waved Lydia and Randor over, and mouthed at them to tread softly. The two complied and hurried back to their side.
"What is it, my lords?" Randor asked, his brows furrowed and his voice tense.
"We may have some uninvited guests," Gareth answered softly.
The dwarf went rigid, and anger entered his stony face. He hefted his axe and growled in a barely restrained tone. "Show them to me my lord, and I'll dispatch them at once! I will cut them down in your honor, sir!"
Kane waved a hand, signaling the dwarf to keep his voice down. The dwarf nodded and went quiet, though the vampire could see that he was still visibly trembling with anger, probably from not seeing this hidden ambush first. The NPCs at the Inn practically worshiped Gareth and Kane. It was cool at first, but after a while, their love and adoration became very unnerving. Any time that one of them felt like they had failed them, the NPCs apologized profusely, swore to do better or offered to take their own life as a way of making up for their failure.
Lydia looked just as outraged as her comrade, but she was better at keeping her anger hidden. A cold look was fixed on her face, and her slender fingers were clenched into a tight fist.
"What shall we do, my lords?" the silver haired elf asked. "Give us the command, and we shall obey."
Kane stroked his chin, trying hastily to come up with a plan. There was an ambush waiting for them up ahead, and neither he or Gareth had any real experience in combat. Sure, they had these awesome powers, but they didn't want to kill anyone. They just wanted to explore a bit and see if they can learn anything about where they were, or how they got there. There was also the possibility of dying. Kane wasn't keen on dying. He was a vampire, yes, but what if these guys were vampire hunters? How strong were they, and how many were there? Did the people of this world have it out for vampires? So many things to consider that it made his head spin.
The vampire assassin shook his head free of these distracting thoughts and focused. They had to do something and fast. Suddenly, it clicked.
Kane looked to his brother. "Do you have any of your instruments?" the vampire asked.
"Indeed I do!" Gareth said with a smile and produced his trusty lute. "Why?"
The vampire took a deep, reluctant breath. "Because I...have a plan."
Being a bandit was boring at times, as Royce had figured out a long time ago. Although he preferred actions, usually scenarios involving wine, women, and fighting, the bandit leader was still content as a man of his position could be.
Still, this night was sure a quiet one so far.
Earlier that day, his boss had told them of a new job. Sounded simple; they had to look out for a certain cart, driven by a certain young woman, and they just swoop in and snatch her. The only problem was that this particular person of interest was guarded by a party of Adventurers, though the word "problem" might be too strong of a word to use for these Adventurers. Inconvenience would be a more appropriate term.
The lanky man smirked to himself. The seasoned outlaw was currently surrounded by four other men, all larger than him, and were dressed in dirty brown clothes that hid their shiny breastplates and freshly oiled mail shirts. Though they didn't look the part, each man was a hardened killer, and experienced in the art of death. A few were even former adventurers who had left the guild (some not of their own volition), and had turned to banditry to keep food in their mouths, now that the ruler of this country soured on the idea of Adventurers.
Adventurers were tough, but if the boss's information was correct (and it always is), then their target was guarded by a measly Iron-ranked party. If it were Gold or something a little more substantial, then they'd actually have a reason to worry. When the girl in question and her escorts trundled by, Royce's suspicions were confirmed. Easy prey.
Royce leaned back in his saddle, trying to relax as he and his comrades settled in for the night. His horse snorted and shook its head, but remained calm and still. The lanky man pulled his water skin from off his back and uncorked it. He sniffed it, and sighed with pleasure. Arventian Sweet Red, the finest red wine that money can buy in the Empire and the Kingdom. A wine so expensive and sweet that it was to die for. And a man did die for the cask this particular wine was drawn from. A plump, impudent merchant was transporting this sweet elixir across the border, and Royce and his fellows decided to take it off his hands for him for free!
He sipped the wine, savored its rich flavor, and gulped it down. Royce shook his head slowly. It wasn't fair that men like him had to scrounge and fight tooth and nail for scraps, but snotty brats like that damn Bloody Emperor and that whiny pudgy merchant had it all. But that didn't matter. Royce was his own man and he could take what he wanted, when he wanted. After tonight, the boss and the rest of their group, Royce included, were going to get a hefty payday. All Royce had to do was to sit tight and guard the rear, ensure that nobody interfered as the boss took care of those Adventurers and snatched the girl.
As the bandits waited in relative silence, shielded by the darkness of the forest and by Pef's cloaking spell, a soft, sweet song drifted on the wind and into their ears.
"...walkin' through the forest, Laughin' back and forth at what the other'ne has to say, Reminiscin', this-'n'-thattin' havin' such a good time…"
Royce frowned and lowered his water skin. Though barely affected by the rich wine, the bandit was unsure what he was hearing. He looked to his second in command, a large, burly man named Bezin, and saw that he was equally confused. The rest of the bandits were now on alert and were as perplexed as their leaders.
The lanky outlaw looked toward the road that snaked through the forest and saw, as the song grew louder and closer, two shadows stepped into view. Royce rubbed his eyes and leaned forward. Down on the road, the two figures were not what the outlaw had expected. One was tall, handsome and wore a cloak that nearly made him fade into the dark, green surroundings. Sitting on his head at an angle was a cap with a black and gold feather. The other figure was short and stocky, clad in a brown cloak. Though this figure wore a hood, Royce's keen eyes spied a long black beard, reaching down the figure's chest.
A Dwarf? the outlaw mused.
While all human nations had a strict policy against Demi-Humans and the like, dwarves were a special case. In the Empire, they had legal rights and were lucrative trading partners, trading their finely crafted weapons and armor for military aid and various supplies in their ongoing quest to retake their homeland in the Azerlisia Mountains.
Wheels began to turn in Royce's head. They couldn't grab a dwarf and sell 'em on the market or to Eight Fingers, otherwise they'd face the wrath of both the Emperor and the Dwarves, and no man is stupid enough to face those odds. However, they can't afford to let a lone dwarf slip through their midst. But then again, their job was to prevent anyone from escaping the boss up ahead and any possible threats from interfering.
As the lanky outlaw pondered the opportunity before him, his compatriots were struggling to grasp what they were seeing.
"What the hell?" Bezin rumbled, his eyes narrowing. "Music?"
"What do you think?" Pef, the group's resident magic caster, asked. "Should we dispose of them?"
"I suppose so," Royce grumbled, upset by having to work after finally getting a moment of peace. "Come on, then."
The lanky outlaw corked his drink and he spurred his horse forward to confront these interlopers. He scowled as his horse emerged from the trees and away from the safety of Pef's [Dome of Shadows]. With his mood soured, Royce hoped to get this over with so that he could go back to drinking his pilfered wine. A pleasant thought came to his head, which seemed to temper his anger a little. Maybe these intruders are carrying some valuables, hopefully something shiny and expensive.
In a matter of seconds, Royce, along with Pef and Bezin and two other men reached the road and blocked the way forward.
The lanky outlaw drew his sword and declared in a commanding voice. "Halt!"
The two figures came to a slow stop. The tall, handsome one was strumming a lute, which was now slower and softer. His sweet, clear voice came to a natural sounding finish. "Oo-de-lally, oo-delally, golly, what a day!" The figure ended on a flourish and paused, almost expecting an applause. Silence greeted his finale.
Upon closer inspection, Royce saw that the man with the lute was indeed handsome and strongly reminded him of a nobleman, only his clothes seemed very plain and worn. The man's companion remained a mystery, their face was covered by a deep hood, obscuring their features.
In the faint moonlight streaming through the opening in the canopy of trees above, the man flashed them a perfect, toothy smile and doffed his feathered cap, revealing long, flowing blond locks. "Evening gentlemen!" he greeted cheerfully. "How may I help you?"
"I'm afraid it's not a good evening." Royce sneered. "In fact, this is not your night. You see, you hand over all your valuables and we'll spare your life...maybe."
Royce's compatriots chuckled, knowing that they were going to gut these unfortunate souls anyway. They brandished their weapons and moved to surround the two, preventing them from escaping.
The man with the lute blinked, his smile wavered. He looked about him at the outlaws circling him like hungry dogs. "Oh dear," the man said in an unusually calm tone. "I see. This is what the kids call a 'shakedown' is it?"
"What?" Bezin scowled.
"Never mind," the man said, smoothing his hair back and returning his cap to its place. He clapped his hands together. "Well, I love to help you lovely lads out but, I'm afraid that I'm penniless."
That drew some snickers and grumbles but the man continued.
"It's true! I'm as poor as a churchmouse. I have nothing but the clothes on my back, the meager supplies in my bag and my trusty lute."
"Come now," Royce jeered. "A handsome, talented singer like yourself must have some coin."
"Why, thank you for your kind words," the man said, putting a hand over his heart, as if touched by the mocking compliment. "But what I have told you is the truth. Now, could you possibly step aside and allow us to carry on our way? I promise that we won't tell a soul about this little...mishap."
The outlaws burst out laughing and Royce let out a chuckle himself, before stopping immediately. He felt a strange sensation overcome him, and suddenly he felt himself sheathing his sword and moving his horse out of the way. Slowly and painfully, words began to tumble out of his mouth, almost like something was forcing him to cough up the contents of his stomach.
"Of...course…" the lanky bandit said slowly. "Go...on. Have a...good night."
Royce's comrades stopped and looked at him in confusion. The lanky outlaw himself was bewildered but no matter how much he struggled, his body moved on its own accord. The outlaw felt himself nudge his horse into motion, and the horse moved aside, allowing a hole in the bandit's wall of bodies.
"Royce, what the hell are you doing?" Bezin growled, his hand reaching for his sword.
Royce gave Bezin a frightened and confused look, but was powerless to do much else. Fortunately, Pef seemed to have caught on. The shaggy haired mage jabbed a finger at the handsome musician. "He's put some sort of spell on Royce!" the mage cried out.
"What kind of spell?" Bezin demanded
"I-I don't know. He didn't utter any incantations!" Pef sputtered.
Bezin gritted his teeth and drew his sword. He aimed the sword at the blond man.
"Kill him!" the large bandit snarled.
One of the men, eager for battle and plunder, surged forward, raising a sword. In the blink of an eye, the hooded figure jumped into action.
The figure stepped into the man's path and, in a blur of motion, produced a fearsome battle axe from the folds of his cloak and swiped at the bandit's weapon. A loud ring of steel echoed through the woods, and the man came to an abrupt halt.
The man, along with Bezin and the other bandits, gazed in shock and awe at the outlaw's sword.
What was once a longsword, forged of castle steel and tested in countless battles, was shortened by half. The rest of the blade fell to the ground beside Bezin. The steel shard gleamed faintly in the moonlight.
The figure pulled back its hood, revealing a stony face with a deep, unyielding rage carved into its craggy features. The man with the broken sword stepped back, shocked and afraid.
"A-a dwarf" one of the men breathed.
Though Dwarves were well known in the nations of men, few have actually met one, outside of select Adventurers, diplomats and merchants. Aside from their skills as craftsmen and miners, dwarves were well known for their ferocity and their skill in battle. To face one in battle was a rare thing, and those who did rarely lived to tell the tale.
"You disgusting piece of filth," the dwarf growled, his voice was a low rumble, sounding like thunder. The air seemed to change as a hot, dangerous aura began to surround the dwarf like fire. "How dare you raise your weapon against my comrade!"
The unfortunate outlaw flinched. His broken weapon slipped from his fingers and backed away as the dwarf advanced on him, brandishing his large axe with two hands.
"Filth like you don't deserve mercy!" the dwarf roared. "You have forfeited your life!"
"No, please!" The man cried. The dwarf raised his axe to strike but a calm but firm voice sounded.
"Randor, stop!"
The dwarf halted and looked toward the blond man, who stood there with a placid look on his face. The man shook his head.
"He's not worth it."
The dwarf scowled but eventually nodded. He turned to the cowering bandit, who was backed up against a tree. The raven haired dwarf spat at the man's feet and growled, "Be grateful that Gareth Silvertongue has mercy and is forgiving. I, however, am not. Do not let me see your face ever again."
The trembling man nodded.
The dwarf Randor returned to his companion's side as the air seemed to shift once more, growing cool and gentle once more. The outlaws were astonished by the display. Royce was petrified. He had heard that dwarves were fierce but to see it first hand was something else. He looked toward the man - Gareth Silvertongue, was it?
It slowly began to dawn on Royce as to who the man truly was and what he was capable of. The attire, the instrument, Royce losing control of his body. There was no doubt about it, this man was a bard.
Royce had only seen a bard once, when he was a boy. When he was growing up in the distant village of Asen, he remembered how a bard had paid them a visit. The man wore brightly colored clothing and a constant smile. He played a silver flute with intricate designs of birds on it. The bard juggled and performed a number of flashy tricks. After telling some hilarious jokes and riddles, the bard concluded his visit with songs. He sang beautifully, recounting the story of the Thirteen Heroes, of heroic deeds and nefarious villains.
Bards, though storytellers by trade, were said to be like Adventurers. Powerful in their own right and deadly with magic and with swords. If this man was a bard, then the bandits may have chosen the wrong target.
When Randor the Dwarf rejoined his companion, Gareth sighed.
"Forgive my companion," the blond man said with a smile. "He's very protective and very passionate about his duty. Now, please let us pass. We'll forget all about this and-" The man's words were cut short by a blood curdling scream.
The hair on the back of Royce's neck jumped to attention. The other outlaws jumped in surprise and turned about, searching for the source of the sound. Royce felt sweat forming on his brow. That sounded like a woman's scream. For a moment, the lanky outlaw believed that it was the boss, returning with the girl they were hired to snatch. But that hope was dashed when he realized that the scream came from the other direction, away from where the boss and the girl was.
A moment of silence passed before another scream sounded, this time it was closer and sounded less...human.
The horses snorted and moved about in place, nervous. Bezin scowled and pulled at the reins, trying to maintain control. He stroked the nervous animal's neck and tried to calm her down, but it didn't appear to be working.
Royce looked toward Gareth, his smile faltered and a look of concern formed on his face.
"Oh no…" He heard the blond man murmur.
"W-What was that?" Pef demanded, trying to maintain his bravado but failed to keep the rising fear out of his voice.
"The devil at my back," Gareth answered cryptically. "You need to leave, all of you need to leave. Now!"
"Oh please," Bezin snorted "It's a trick."
The blond shrugged. "Believe me, don't believe me, do what you want. I'm out of here before he gets here!"
Gareth looked at Randor and motioned for him to follow. The two moved to pass through the gap between Bezin and Royce but the burly outlaw intercepted them.
"You're not going anywhere," the large man growled, leveling his sword to Gareth's head. Randor glared and looked ready to cleave the man and his steed in half, but Gareth placed a hand on his companion's shoulder.
"Either you're really brave or really stupid," Gareth said sharply, his expression was grim and serious. "Doesn't matter though, you'll be dead if you don't get you and your friends out of here. He is coming."
"Who?" Bezin asked impatiently
"The vampire," the blond answered solemnly.
Gareth's words seem to cause the air to go still. Royce felt his blood turn to ice. All around him, he noticed that his comrades had similar reactions. Pef went very pale and the other outlaws, all battle hardened and experienced warriors, shared worried looks. Even Bezin seemed to pause at the man's words.
Vampires were powerful undead, said to roam the wastes and distant wilds of the world. Some skulk about in areas where great slaughter and death occurred. The weakest vampires were difficult to kill, requiring Adventurers and clerics of Gold or Platinum-rank and above to even be considered a match against this unholy evil. The stronger ones, fortunately, were very rare, but were far deadlier. Long ago, there were a group of unimaginably powerful vampires who ruled the night: the Vampire Lords. A single Vampire Lord was enough to lay waste to an entire city, even an entire kingdom. Fortunately, they were hunted to extinction long ago by a band of legendary heroes.
Though the odds of running into a powerful vampire like that was slim, to run into any vampire was very unfortunate. If Gareth's words were true, then they need to get the hell out of here and quickly.
Royce looked to Bezin, who seemed to be considering Gareth's words. After a few, agonizingly long moments later, Bezin spoke.
"Let it come," the outlaw grunted.
Royce's eyes widened in shock.
"What?" Gareth asked, surprised by the man's response.
"Let the damn thing come," Bezin said with a grim smile. "We'll see what this...vampire really is. Probably an illusion spell? Or perhaps another companion? See, I know that you're a bard. I've met a number of them in my time, and very few are anything more than a bunch of show ponies who sing boring little songs about love."
The other outlaws seemed to take heart in this, some of them began to regain some color in their faces and began nodding in agreement.
Gareth seemed to take offense to this.
"I'll have you know that my songs are superior to anything those preening peacocks could ever sing," the bard sniffed. "In fact, the reason why I was singing in the first place was to mask our trail. A little ability called [Spellsong], perhaps you've heard of it? Since you stupidly interrupted me before I could start a new song, the vampire now knows where we are and he's coming to kill us all!"
Bezin didn't seem convinced and Royce looked at him in disbelief.
What the hell is this idiot doing? Royce thought. His mouth was still locked shut and he still couldn't move his body. He wanted to yell and scream at his second in command but couldn't. The lanky man could only sit in the saddle of his horse and wait.
He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Maybe Bezin was right. Bards were mainly storytellers, and very few were actually powerful or dangerous. The more he thought about this Gareth's story, it didn't really add up. Why was he being pursued by a vampire? If he was, why did he seem so calm and matter-of-fact about it? Wouldn't he have warned them of such a dangerous creature on his trail?
Royce felt the corner of his lips twitch, a pitiful attempt at a smile. Maybe he was lying. But if Gareth was lying and was just tricking them, how come Royce still couldn't move?
Gareth looked at Bezin in disbelief and exhaustion. The bard sighed and threw his hands up in defeat.
"Alright then!" he exclaimed. "Have it your way!"
He turned and walked over to a nearby tree and sat down, crossing his legs. He cradled his lute in his arms as if it were a newborn child. Randor eyed Bezin as joined his companion at the foot of the tree. The dwarf placed his axe on the ground and crossed his thick, trunk like arms across his chest.
The bard began playing a tune, a soft, sweet song that sounded like a lullaby, but with a sad, eerie tone. Bezin and the other outlaws gave Gareth and Randor funny looks but their attention was immediately drawn back to the issue at hand when another blood curdling scream tore through the night.
A warm sensation filled Royce and suddenly, he had control over his limbs again. He flexed his fingers and opened and closed his mouth, testing his abilities. He looked at Gareth, who sat there, watching the outlaws with calm blue eyes.
Royce pondered how the bard was so calm and why he was sitting there but he shook his head. This was just a stupid trick of some sorts.
A soft, distant sound echoed through the still trees, drawing the outlaws' attention. The men gathered together in a tight group and turned to face whatever was coming their way from the dark. The sound grew louder and closer until finally a figure stumbled into view. In the faint moonlight, the outlaws were greeted by the sight of a beautiful elf girl.
The elf was tall and slender with silver hair reaching down past her shoulders. Royce paused and took a minute to admire her beauty. An elf girl like her would fetch a pretty price with Eight Fingers or one of the slavers in Arwintar, but his thoughts of profit were quickly driven from his mind when he saw the state of the elf.
The girl's clothes were torn in places and hung like ribbons that flapped whenever she moved. On her arms and her bare shoulder, Royce saw what looked like cuts. Deep cuts. Dark spots decorated her ruined clothing, indicating that she was bleeding and seriously wounded. Though he had no love for elves, Royce couldn't help but feel a little pity for her.
The girl leaned against a nearby tree, wheezing and trying to catch her breath.
"H...Help…" she whimpered. "He...Help me."
Royce didn't know what to say. If this was a trick, it was very convincing. Although some of the other outlaws were unsure, Bezin didn't seem convinced.
"She wants help," the large man snorted to Royce. "Oh we'll help her alright." A perverse smile formed on his lips. He looked to one of the men and nodded to him. The man gripped his mace tightly and stepped forth.
As he got closer, Royce noticed the air grow unusually calm and silent. He frowned and looked about, searching the darkness around them, between the trees and bushes that surrounded the road. Something wasn't right to the lanky outlaw. Something was terribly wrong.
It then clicked in Royce's head. It was quiet, too quiet. The ambient buzz of bugs and the ordinary sounds of the forest at night, it was all gone! It was as if the world went silent to bear witness to something awful.
There! Royce cried in his head. A shape moved in the darkness. It was brief, but he saw something move and it was fast.
He turned to cry a warning to his subordinate, but was too late.
When the mace wielding outlaw reached the elf girl, an unnaturally wide grin formed on her pale face, exposing a pair of sharp, gleaming fangs.
She lunged at the man, wrapping her arms around him and jumped high into the air, soaring above the trees. The man didn't have time to scream as he vanished into the night sky.
Before anyone could really process what had just happened, a pair of glowing red orbs appeared in the dark before them. Bobbing up and down, the orbs grew closer and closer, resembling will-o'-the-wisps or hellish fireflies. The temperature plummeted. The cold seemed to soak them to the bone as the horses began to shake and thrash. The horses whinnied and scream in terror. Bezin and the others tried to maintain control of their mounts but they could barely keep themselves from panicking. As the glowing red orbs closed in, the horses managed to unseat their riders, Royce included, and galloped off in any direction they could, some racing up the road toward the city of Arven was located and where the rest of the outlaw band was. Others raced off into the woods, hoping to lose themselves and escape certain death.
Royce was dazed and sore. He groaned as he pushed himself up off the ground and stood. He patted himself down and found that his water skin was gone. The outlaw let out a pitiful moan and looked toward Gareth and Randor. The two were still sitting there, underneath the tree and were watching with emotionless faces, though Royce could've sworn that he saw pity on the bard's face. Harnessing what meager outrage and anger he had toward the bard, he picked his sword up off the ground and turned to face this newcomer. He hoped to use this fleeting surge of courage to kill it for causing him all this discomfort.
What little courage he had mustered evaporated when the vampire stepped into the moonlight. Although he'd never seen a vampire in person, it took only one look for Royce to instantly recognize the figure as a vampire.
Almost out of the storybooks, the figure was tall and grim. Dressed in a voluminous black cloak and with flesh pale as marble, the figure resembled a corpse-like nobleman who had just emerged from his crypt. His eyes shined like polished rubies and seemed to regard Royce and the others in the same manner a predator would its next meal. Long black tumbled down past his shoulders and flowed in the soft evening breeze, which also brought a strong rotting stench to the outlaw's nose.
The vampire stood there, still and unmoving like a statue, gazing at the band of outlaws. A smile grew on his face.
"Well, what do we have here?" the undead creature cooed. "Fresh meat." His voice was deep and velvety. It wasn't harsh like Randor's, it was soft and soothing, almost alluring.
Royce, struggling very hard not to show that he was trembling, gripped his weapons and lifted it, trying to put it between him and the undead monster. Glancing sideways, he saw that his subordinates and comrades were barely holding it together. They've fought monsters and various Adventurers, but none of them had dealt with anything of this type or power.
After a lengthy silence, the vampire clapped his hands together. "So," he said with a fanged grin, "Who's up first?"
Nobody spoke, let alone move. Each of the men kept their weapons at the ready, and tried to find a way to escape. Unfortunately, one man eventually broke. He turned and ran, hoping to reach the trees and lose them.
Royce recognized the man but couldn't remember his name. He was rather unremarkable and usually kept to himself. What he did remember about him though was his predilection for the girls of the brothels in Re-Estize. Those that cried the loudest were his favorites, which unsettled Royce. He was a thief and a killer, but amongst the Black Skull Company outlaw band, there were truly monstrous men.
Unfortunately, this world was home to even worse monsters.
"Ah," the vampire sighed, sounding pleased "A volunteer!"
Faster than anyone could react, the vampire was gone, and a powerful gust of wind swept past Royce and the other outlaws, nearly knocking them over. The outlaws spun around and saw that the vampire and the fleeing man were gone. In the darkness, they heard an agonized scream for help and then… silence.
The outlaws began to tremble, murmure and wail.
"We're going to die!" one of the men sobbed.
"We-We got to get out of here!" another cried
"Shut up!" Bezin shouted them down, his face red and his knuckles were white as he gripped his weapon as tightly as he could. Sweat poured down the outlaw's face.
"To hell with this!" one of the frantic men screeched. "I'm not going to wait around to die!"
"Wait, no!" Royce shouted, but the man was already making a beeline for the woods in the opposite direction his now fallen comrade was taken.
Before he reached the trees, an awful, familiar figure landed in front of him in a low crouch.
Rising to her full height, the elf girl looked the outlaw in the eyes and grinned.
"Boo!" she giggled.
The frightened man cried out loud, and swung his sword wildly about. Each swordstroke missed until she caught his blade between her index finger and thumb, inches away from her throat.
"That could've hurt someone," she said mockingly.
With little effort, she pulled the sword free from the desperate outlaw's hands and grabbed him by the throat. The two vanished into the darkness of the forest, the man's screams being the last time they'll ever hear of him. Pef covered his mouth in horror, and began mumbling every defensive incantation he knew. The familiar, green glowing magical circles appeared before the terrorized mage's hands. The air around the group shimmered and solidified in a solid glowing green box of light. Thin ribbons of golden light wrapped themselves around the box, securing it further.
Both Royce felt relief wash over him, but he prayed to the gods that the protection spells were enough to hold the vampires at bay. A thought occurred to the outlaw, and he turned his gaze to Gareth and Randor.
The two were still sitting under a tree, the bard strummed away on his lute and Randor seemed to be biting into an apple.
Royce stared in disbelief. Just who were they? How come the vampires haven't gone after them yet? They were right there!
He then remembered what Gareth said. Something about his songs keeping him the vampires off his trail. Did they make him invisible? Whatever they did, it seemed to be working.
As a dome of violet energy formed over their fortified box of magic, Pef sank to his knees. Bezin clapped a hand on the mage's back.
"Good thinking!" The large outlaw chuckled, sounding half hysterical. "They won't be able to get in now!"
"I wouldn't be so sure about that~" Gareth sang from under the tree.
The three remaining outlaws turned to the bard.
The blond man stared at them, and stated plainly, "That's not going to stop him."
"How would you know?" Royce asked, curious and fearful.
"I fought him before." Gareth shrugged, leaning back against the trunk of the tree. "Not a nice guy. Killed many good men, all stronger than you lot, that's for sure."
"Then...stop him...please!" Pef begged as he tried to regain his strength.
Gareth tilted his head, his song changed from a sad lullabye to a strill, nerve wracking tune. "Why should I?" he asked him. "You sought to take our lives and our valuables and go on your merry way. I'd be doing the world a favor by letting the beast have you."
"I can change!" Pef wheezed, his face drenched in sweat. "We-We can change!"
The young bard cocked an eyebrow. His eyes went from the exhausted mage to the large second-in-command, before finally landing on Royce. When the bard's eyes landed on him, the lanky outlaw felt as if the strange man was staring into his soul. It was as if every thought, every deed, every sin was laid bare and exposed. In the glow of the magical barriers, Gareth's eyes seemed to shine like stars.
"Will you?" the bard asked.
"Yes!" Pef cried. "I-I'll give up banditry! I'll go to prison! I'll go back to the Imperial Magic Academy! I-I-I'll do right by my mother and father! I'll do anything!"
Gareth's expression softened. "I believe you," he said softly. "But...I don't know about your friends."
Pef looked up at Bezin and Royce. The two shared unsure looks with one another, before looking at Pef.
The mage looked at them expectantly. Bezin's mouth opened and closed wordlessly and Royce was unsure what to do. His thoughts were interrupted as a soft knock came from behind him on the magical force field. The outlaws looked and there stood a horrid vision.
The vampire stood there, his eyes were now a solid black like a fish's eyes. His mouth was covered in blood. He lifted a hand and knocked again on the barrier again, as if he were knocking on the door of an acquaintance.
"Little pigs, little pigsssss~" the vampire hissed. He pressed his face against the barrier and placed his blood soaked hands on the wall. He dragged his claw-like fingers down the wall. Sparks flew from the wall. "Let me in, let me in~"
Pef cried and scurried away from the wall until he was on the other side, with his back toward Gareth.
Bezin stumbled back, his sword slipped from his hands. His jaw hanging open in horror and his eyes wide.
The vampire's expression turned ugly and feral. Scowling deeply, he let out a deep, animalistic growl. Pulling his head back, he headbutted the barrier. The shimmering wall of light absorbed the initial blow but when he repeated the action, the wall warbled and shook. The vampire continued to headbutt the wall, over and over in rapid succession. With each strike, cracks begin to form.
With each crack that formed on the glowing walls, their hopes of the magic shield protecting them faded. With a grin that'll haunt them to their deaths, he let out one last roar, before slamming his head against the wall, this time shattering it like glass.
Royce felt whatever strength he had in him slip away as cold, unrelenting terror washed over the man. The vampire stepped through the breach as the outlaw sank to his knees. The warm protective magic of the barrier spell disintegrated into nothingness, plunging them back into faintly illuminated darkness.
Time seemed to slow as the vampire lunged forward, fangs bared and claws ready. Before the vampire could reach them, a powerful, blinding light filled the world, and Royce knew no more.
Lydia and Randor placed the last of the unconscious bandits beside his friends. The five bandits were lying side by side beneath a tree a short distance away from the dirt road that they had blocked a few minutes earlier before Gareth put them under a powerful illusion spell. Nearby, Kane was licking away the last of the pig's blood from his lips and fingers, which he lathered on himself to give the illusion of devouring the bandits. Gareth was standing beside the sleeping bandits, strumming a lovely tune. Not the best plan, but not wanting to kill anyone or get violent, it was what he came up with on short notice. Once Gareth's song ended, the bard slung his lute across his back and walked over to his brother.
"Well?" the vampire asked.
"It's done… I think," Gareth said, scratching the back of his head. "I've never used the [Modify Memory] spell outside of Yggdrasil before, but hopefully it'll do the trick. Tomorrow they should wake up with a massive headache and a strong desire to reform."
"Or be drooling vegetables."
"Or that."
Kane nodded slowly. The vampire didn't need enhanced senses to know that these outlaws were not nice guys. From what he saw of Gareth's encounter, he knew very well that they weren't going to let his brother and Randor go easy. Sure they had the ability to kick the shit out of them, even kill them, but that's not why they were there or who they were. They weren't killers and they weren't monsters. Though Kane was uncertain about the morality using the memory spell, these guys, according to Gareth's karma senses, were rotten to the core, save for three who had a still chance to turn themselves around.
The vampire went over their little performance in his mind and couldn't help but shudder at what he felt back there, tormenting those men. He felt...alive. Hearing them panic as he unleashed his [Aura of Terror] ability made his undead heart sing. Something deep down whispered to Kane to tear right into them, make them suffer and drain them dry but the assassin forced those thoughts down. He may be a vampire, but he was still himself. That is what's important.
"Really killed it back there," Gareth said, looking at his brother. "Really...convincing. Especially the whole 'little pigs' thing."
Kane shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a method actor. I slip into the role. But what about you? Real Oscar winning performance you had going on there."
"Eh." Gareth shrugged. "It's...it's not my best."
The vampire chuckled and patted the bard on the shoulder as Lydia and Randor returned from hiding the unconscious bandits.
"All done, my lords," the silver haired elf reported.
"Excellent work, my little vampire" Kane purred, causing Lydia to blush and look at her feet.
"Forgive me, my lords, I know it's not my place," Randor spoke up, "but couldn't we have just, you know, slain these miscreants?"
"What's the point in that?" Gareth asked "They die and they don't learn anything. Our little...experiment should help them see the error of their ways and find their way to redemption. At least for three of them. The rest might wake up drooling and mindless."
Randor nodded thoughtfully. "Very wise, my lord," he said sincerely. "I see. You are very merciful."
"Oh well-" Gareth began bashfully, but was interrupted by a distant scream, followed by what sounded like an explosion.
The four looked in the direction of where the sounds came from. Gareth and Kane shared a look.
"That wasn't us, right?" Gareth asked.
"No." Kane shook his head. "Besides, you're the one with the illusion spells."
There was another explosion, followed by more screams and shouts. The two shared a look, then looked to their NPC companions.
"Lets go check it out," Kane said, rubbing his hands together. "Could be fun!"
Gareth frowned. "Not my idea of fun, but…" he shrugged.
With that, the four companions continued their journey down the road but at a quicker pace, not really knowing what lies ahead of them.
(a/n: what do you think? Some notes- the bold text ["like this"] is how the characters will talk when using message. Some of the spells and how they manifest are a little different from cannon. Lastly, the lyrics are from the song "Oo-de-lally" from Disney's Robin Hood. Big thanks to Lucius Walker for all his help! Anyway, until next time. Stay safe out there!)