Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God (20 page)

Close to half an hour passes, before the door opens again. The frog leads the way, with the fat man trailing behind him. There is no sign of recognition in the frogs eyes, as they sweep over me, but there should not be, since I am no longer a Possessed Half-Dvergar. Its eyes linger on the hilts of my swords for a moment, before focusing on Sigurd. With the golems in the room, it has no reason to fear me.

The frog is close to seven feet tall, with legs disproportionately long in relation to its arms and torso. It's frog-like head has knobby protrusions and small horns behind the eyes.  A slimy sheen coats its black spotted golden skin, which is mostly exposed. The only clothing the frog is wearing is a long open vest that hangs to its knees, and a loincloth that resembles a kaupinam. The bulging sack like front of the loincloth is big enough to be holding a coconut.

The frogs lecherous desire for human and Alfar women is well-known, and he owns at least twenty human female slaves at any one time. Rumor has it that every time he fucks one, a healer has be called in to repair the damage to her vagina.

The stare the frog turns on Sigurd is probably meant to be menacing, and from the way Sigurd pales slightly, it must be working on him.

“Did you bring the dragon scales I require?” The frog's voice sounds like a croaking frog, with a noble's affected accent. It is almost funny listening to him talk.

Sigurd glances at me.
*What do I do now?*

I step to the fat man and tap him on the head, before my actions even register on his awareness. He falls to the floor, as the small burst of ki rattles his brain. It should not be enough to kill him, but since this is my first time doing this, I cannot be certain.

The frog is more aware and has far better reactions. He jumps back a good twenty-five feet, landing next to one the golems. The frog my be a Maker, but he is not an adept or a combat caster. His way of fighting is to use constructs and slaves.

“Kill them! You protect me!”

The golem next to the frog steps forward one pace and stands there. The other golems advance towards us.

*Get out of this room. Guard the door and don't let any of the frogs lackeys interfere.*

*By myself?*

*Grow a pair. I have four golems to destroy. I can't do everything myself.*

Sigurd practically runs out of the room, slamming the door behind himself.

“It looks like your friend has deserted you, but do not worry, I will have him hunted down, after you are dead.”

The nearest two golems reach me, and I spin around one's flank, as they both grab at me. Their hands entangle each other, as they both grab at where I was. The golems are fast, surprisingly so, but their simplistic programming is not even close to being a match for the footwork and body movement of Shadow Fist.

Shadow Fist is more efficient and effective than any Earth martial art. Since I have started to use ki, I have found that with the addition of ki Shadow Fist bends the laws of physics. I am able to move in ways that should be utterly impossible.

“You're as stupid as ever, Froggy. The last time you tried to fuck me over you got hurt bad, and here you are trying it again.”

The frog laughs. “I have never seen you before. It would be impossible to forget such a disgustingly ugly human.”

The third golem swings at me, with a huge roundhouse, and I slip under the punch and move behind the golem. My ki enhanced shove barely manages to stagger the monstrosity. It stops and spins, throwing another roundhouse, which whistles over my head as I barely duck in time. The first two golems have disentangled themselves and are closing in again.

Drawing both swords, I start slashing into the third golem's arms as it continues to throw roundhouses mixing in hooks. As hard and sharp as my swords are, they are barely cutting an inch or two into the golem's massive arms.

The three golems almost have me surrounded, and I slip under one of the golems punches moving around its right side.

Bam!
My face slams into the wall. Even though the walls of this room are paneled with a dark stained paneling, there is foot thick stone underneath. My left shoulder feels numb. What the fuck happened? Looking over my shoulder I see the second golem, the one that was to the third golem's right closing fast. Its movement are different, more agile, more controlled. Fuck. It is not walking, it is using a martial step to rapidly cover ground.

I dive and roll to avoid the kick that splinters the wood paneling. My swords are still in my hands, but my left arm is a little sluggish.

The first and third golems are still acting the same as they originally were. Is the second different from the rest or have the others not been triggered yet?

The second golem close again, launching a rapid series of spear hand attacks. Its power is too much for me to parry them, and I am forced to dodge them all. My right sword destroys its eyes in a quick double thrust, but the attacks do not slow down or lose their accuracy. This golem is not dependent on sight. Maybe, it does not use sight at all.

The first and third golems are almost in position to cut me off. Spinning to the side, I step past the first golem. Sheathing the blades of my swords with ki, I attack. Both swords cut into its thigh in a rapid one-tow pattern. Both sword hitting the exact same location leave a bone deep cut, but it does not bleed.

Flesh golems are nothing but constructs. Even if their bodies are flesh, they have no life, blood does not pump through their veins. For a flesh golem, flesh is simply the mediums used to contain and conduct the mana that powers it. The key is the crystal that contains its “programming” and its mana. If you cannot destroy the crystal, you have to completely dismember them.

There is still no change in the first or third golem's patterns. It seems like the second might be the only special one. The first golem staggers a bit as it turns to grab me. Even if the flesh is only a medium, enough damage to the flesh impairs the functionality.

Avoiding the second golem again, I close with the third. Stepping inside the heavy roundhouse, I drive my sword upward at an oblique angle. The force of of my strike, combined with the power of the golem's swing, severs the forearm at the elbow. Stepping past the stump, both of my blades tear through the golem's knee, and it collapses to the ground.

Just like a living creatures, the golems' joints appear to be their weak points.

Moving around the room, I separate the golems and close on the first one. Dodging the golem's grab, I slip behind it and sever its knee, with a spinning strike.

Two golems down and only the special golem is attacking. I close with special golem, and like the others, it only attacks. After leave two deep gashed in its arms, I watch its attack pattern for a moment. In close combat, it keeps using the same fifteen strike combination of spear hands, with a fractional pause as it resets for the next combination.

Waiting for the end of the combination, I step in at an angle, with a spinning double slash to its knee. The golem's shin falls to the ground, and the golem pitches to the side.

I charge full speed at the fourth golem. The frog, its bulbous eyes nearly popping out of its skull, dives to the side. My kick hits the golem's waist, before its hands have crossed even a half the distance to grab me. Taller than the frog and at least three times its weight, the golem is still launched into the air by the force of my kick. It slams into the corner, where it was originally stationed, and bounces out, falling to its face on the ground.

Before the frog is halfway to the door, I am on him, and the edge of my sword is against his throat.

“Call off the golems.”

The frog hesitates, until the edge of my blade draws blood.

“Return to your posts!”

The broken golems drag themselves across the floor to the corners where they started from.

“Last time you cheated me, and I shattered every bone in your fingers and toes, one at a time. I can do it again if that will jog your memory.”

The frog glares at me. “I do not know where you learned about that, but you are not Talon. You are only a human, and Talon died.”

“Oh, I died sure enough, but I came back. It doesn't matter how many times I'm killed, I'll always come back.”

“Your lies mean nothing, human. Talon was a Half-Dvergar freak. He was murdered by people he thought were his friends.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about what happened in the Lands of Despair.”

I would never have believed a frog could smirk, but the frog manages to do it.

“Stupid human, I am not a prisoner here like you. I am here because I choose to be here. This place suits my research.”

I point to the heavy table on side of the room “After breaking your legs so you couldn't run. I held you down on that table and crushed every bone in your fingers and toes, using my thumb. You were screaming and howling so loudly, that I tore the hand off one of your wrecked golems and shoved it in your mouth.”

The frogs face turns a darker shade of gold. “Damn you, human. Did Talons tell you that before he was ejected from the Battleground?”

Clenching my teeth so that I do not give away how painful it is, I draw on a very tiny thread of the Od. The mix of black and greenish-argent energies swirl around my left fist. It is thin and weak, but I am the only one who knows that.

The frog starts trembling, as he unconsciously cowers away from me. Even when I release the Od, he does not stop trembling.

I swallow the blood in my throat, so that the frog does not realize how much it cost me to put on even that little bit of a demonstration.

“Does that ring a bell? Do you still think that I'm not Talon?”

The frog looks at me, but he cannot hide his fear. “Talon is dead. You are human.”

“I'm done wasting time. If you do not give us everything that Sigurd's party requested, I will break more than just your fingers and toes this time. If you try to get revenge, I'll come back here and rip your dick off. Decide.”

The frog's eyes flicker around the room, but three of his golems are already trashed. There is nothing here that can save him from me. “I will give you the items.”

*Sigurd, get back in here and bring a bucket of water.*

*I'm a little busy right now. If you have things under control, why don't you come out.*

“Stand up, Froggy.” Directing the the frog with the pressure of my sword on his neck, I move to the door and open it.

Sigurd is standing with his back to the door and his bow drawn. Six guards, all of them adepts, are glaring at him from the middle of the work hall. A heavy stone table at one the workstations has three arrows embedded in it. Forming a perfect line, each arrow is buried a good six inches in the solid stone.

The golems lining the sides of the room are still immobile. The guards must not be able to command them. Perhaps, only the frog himself can command them.

The power of Sigurd's shots is impressive, to say the least. If the others in his group have even half his strength, how they hell did some Thug Horde trash ever beat them?

“Tell them to stand down, Froggy.”

The frog glares at me, his hatred obvious. “Go back to your posts.”

I point at one of the slave craftsmen. “Dump some water on the fat man.”

After being doused with water, the fast man sits up.

“What hap...” After looking around, he stares at me and swallows.

The frog cringes, when I smile at him.

“Now Froggy, I want you to send him for all the items that Sigurd's group ordered. As compensation for my inconvenience, you can throw in a red or black storage belt and a second endless quiver.”

The frog glares, obviously about to retort, until my sword pricks deeper into his neck. “Valson, go get the items from the storeroom.”

“Yes, Master.” Valson is not wearing a collar, so he should presumably not be a slave.

After Valson leaves, I sit the frog down in a chair.

“Did you know that the Possessed call your little hunting games The Bag Quest?”

The frog does not respond, his glare never leaving my face.

I smile. “Maybe, I'll call this The Bag Quest 2.0: Stealing From the Thieving Frog.”

Valson returns with pushing a small cart. In it are bags, a belt, rings, two eternal quivers.

I store one of the quivers and the belt in my own belt, and Sigurd binds the other quiver with a soul thread, transferring his remaining arrows to it. He then binds a belt pouch and stores the other items in it.

I smile at the frog. “Now, my little frog, you and I are going to have a nice chat. How the fuck do you know what happened in the Lands of Despair?”

The frog glares at me, until my sword opens the skin on the side of his face.

“Argh! Damn you, human!”

I poke the skin over his trachea.

“Enough! I'll talk! I'll talk! I have acquaintances among the DokkAlfar. The DokkAlfar know everything that goes on in the Labyrinth of Yggr. That is the truth. I swear it on my exalted father's tongue!”

Idiot frog. How the fuck am I supposed to know if swearing on his shitty father's tongue means jack or shit? Still, he does not seem like he is lying. Though, I doubt that the DokkAlfar know everything that happens in the Labyrinth of Yggr. They probably collect a lot of information, but it is doubtful they could know everything.

“What is your connection to the Thugs that ambushed Sigurd's party?”

The frog sighs. First time I have ever seen a frog sigh.

“I use them for small jobs. They are just trash that has been hanging around Bogwater for a few years. They took over Zavin's Hole, because the trash there was weaker than themselves.”

Figures. No matter how dangerous they were to unorganized players, Thug Horde was never more than trash. They always targeted the noobs and the weak guilds.

“Walk us to the door, froggy.”

The frog walks ahead of us, as we cross the short distance to the main door of his shop. His will to resist is broken. It is obvious in his posture and how he moves. The frog is not acting, he is far too arrogant to pretend weakness.

Standing next to the door, the frog stares at me. He is trying to come to terms with what he saw and what I told him.

“Remember, Froggy. If you come after me for revenge, I'll come after you. Even if I die, I'll claim another body and come after you.”

The frog nods blankly.

As we leave, the two guards just look at us curiously. For the moment, the frog is not a threat, but he will not be able to live with what I did to him. It is just a matter of time, before he sends agents seeking vengeance, but it will probably be done through middle men, so he will feel safe that I cannot trace the attacks back to him.

*I don't get it. Why is he just letting us leave like this?*

I laugh, but it is a sound that has nothing to do with humor.
*The frog tried to cheat me the last time I was here. I tortured him, and now, I made him remember it. He's not sure if I really am the same person, but he's still afraid.*

*Tortured him? What kind of player were you?*

*The kind no one in their right mind fucked with.*

I switch to the raid channel, so that I can talk with Jinmu.
*We're done. If you're ready we shouldn't stay here any longer than necessary.*

Jinmu's laugh echoes in the raid channel.
*It took you long enough. We have purchased supplies, but we still need to pick them up. We do not have storage capacity at the moment.*

*I have a present for you. The frog was kind enough to volunteer a dimensional storage belt for you, but it's black not red.*

*Do you really think I would complain about a free belt being black? Meet us at the docks where we landed. It will be easier than giving you directions to where we are.*

Sigurd stays close to me, as we head toward the docks, and the crowd parts under the pressure of my ki aura.

To the inhabitants of the Battleground of the Damned, the DokkAlfar are the Masters. They are the ones who control the Seven Great Citadels. They were the ones who controlled all of the so-called Lesser Gates, that we had to conquer to gain access to different territories within the Battleground of the Damned. The DokkAlfar have taken back various Lesser Gates at times, but we thought that those assaults were just game events.

Talon was raised to be a gladiator by the DokkAlfar, somewhere outside the Battleground of the Damned. After he became a gladiatorial champion there, he was bought by a DokkAlfar Wytch, who brought him into one of the Seven Great Citadels. When he became so strong that he was virtually uncontrollable, he was cast into the Battleground of the Damned by the DokkAlfar. His memories, that I still retain, give me a better understanding of the DokkAlfar culture than most who are not DokkAlfar.

The DokkAlfar serve Yggr, who is a God to them. Many of their gladiatorial games are little more than mass sacrifices to their God. Everything they do is influenced by the will of the priests of Yggr, and even the imperial and noble families that actually control the Seven Great Citadels have to step carefully around those priests. Their campaigns to control the Lesser Gates and to bring down the polities that are too powerful are all carried out under the priests exhortations.

I think I know where the Gate to the Chamber of Transition between the Battleground of the Damned and the Lands of Despair lies, but it is a dead Gate. There was no Guardian and the controls were all powerless. I assumed that it was a placeholder for unfinished content, when I thought I was playing a game. The key to opening it may lie with the DokkAlfar, but there is no way for me to force them to relinquish it. I am not strong enough. For now, my only hope is that the Dvergar will be able to open it.

The only thing that I have ever seen the DokkAlfar truly fear was a non-player Dvergar from Alkhalazen's Demise. A group of Dvergar is said to live there that all other Dvergar honor, or maybe worship might be a better term. Thorrin once told me that the Dvergar have no gods, they only acknowledge their Great Ancestor's as worthy of veneration. So, why do the Dvergar seem to hold the group living at Alkhalazen's Demise in veneration?

“Brand!”

Jinmu's voice startles me. I am already more than ten feet past the rest of the party. I was too lost in my own thoughts and did not even notice that we had reached the others. If there had been danger, I am certain I would have noticed, but there are no immediate threats.

Sigurd is already passing out gear to the rest of his friends.

I toss the belt to Jinmu and use English, when I speak. “The frog's gift. You know how to use soul threads, right?”

Jinmu grins and uses English, as well. “Of course, I have been researching Rakhir's memories extensively, since we arrived.”

“You have your character's memories? Isn't that your real body?” Harkins' face is the perfect picture of wide-eyed shock.

Jinmu shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes are the hard, cold eyes of zaibatsu CEO. “A gift from The Nameless. I am not one to turn down a free advantage, when the stakes are life and death. I will use anything and everything I have at my disposal to succeed in my goals.”

Harkins flinches slightly, not meeting Jinmu's eyes. In contrast, I notice Delilah's face flush slightly, as she moves closer to Jinmu.

Dismissing the retreating Harkins with his eyes, Jinmu looks at me. “You did not encounter any difficulties, then?”

I shrug. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

“Huh!”

I ignore Sigurd's shocked exclamation. “We should collect your purchases and find a place to stay for the night. There shouldn't be any trouble for a few days, but once he hitches up his balls again, the frog will probably try something. I considered killing him, but he's the best source of dimensional storage gear, and I might need more someday.”

Jinmu starts walking beside me, with Delilah at his side. “It is always wise to cultivate resources, but you should be careful, when the resource is a viper.”

The others are whispering behind us. Even a few weeks ago, I am certain that I would not have been able to overhear them.

“What's going on?” Xenia's voice is overflowing with inquisitiveness.

“I don't know if he's acting tough, or if he's just plain crazy. Slan'laad sicced four golems on us, and Brand chased me out of the room. I don't what happened, but when he opened the door again, three of golems were mangled, and Slan'laad looked like he was ready to piss himself. We basically stole everything from him.”

“He's crazy.”

The tone of Perzey's whisper makes me glance black. She is staring at me, with en expression on her face somewhere between disgust, fear and awe. Seeing me looking at her, she pales but does not look away. There is something else in her eyes. Stronger than simple desire, there is an obsessive hunger inside of her. I do no know what the hunger is for, but I can guess: strength. I know how high the prices can be, when you seek strength and vengeance. How far is she willing to go? What prices will she pay?

“Did you happen to see any stores or bowyers selling steel bows?”

Jinmu squints his eyes. “Steel bows? I am not sure I know what they are.”

“They are normally recurved bows. A bowyers make them in the same manner as a laminated bow, but there are layers of spring steel in the laminate.”

“Ah. There are a few bowyers, but I do not know, if they have such bows.”

I nod and keep walking.

While Jinmu and the others collect the purchase, I check the bowyers, but none of them have anything close to a heavy enough draw weight to suit me. Maybe when we reach Tallifer, I will find something.

The inn we stay at is one of the more upscale establishments, generally used by wealthy merchants and other well-off travellers. It has an attached restaurant, rather than just the usual tavern that serves food.

We dine in a group and converse in English, so that the natives of the Battleground of the Damned will not understand us.

The serving girl looks at me with a little trepidation, but unlike Earth born humans, she does not seem disgusted with my appearance. The people of the Battleground of the Damned, especially a town like Bogwater, are used to seeing scars. As bad as mine are, the girl has probably seen a number of people with just as bad in her lifetime.

“Do you not wish to be a hero, Brand?”

“Huh?” I have not been paying attention to the conversation and try to piece together what they are talking about. I know it was something about the trapped players.

My stellar response draws a smile form Jinmu. “There are over a million players trapped in the Battleground of the Damned. Their Earth bodies are dead. They have no place to return to. Would you not like to be a hero and save them all?”

“Fuck them. Does this have something to do with your plans?”

Jinmu's face turns serious. “The Lands of Despair and the City of Haven are out ultimate goals, but if just the two of us go, we will not accomplish much. I intend to found an empire, a safe have for the people of Earth who are trapped here, a place that they can call home. If we can become the source of hope for them, they will become the foundation. If they are part of the foundation, they will value the empire much more, because it will be something that they have helped to build themselves. Do you not want to be one of the heroes that shows them the way?”

I laugh. I cannot keep the bitterness out of it, but the I still laugh so hard it brings tears to my eyes. “That's just too fucking funny. Me? A hero? If they knew who I was, most of them would run in the opposite direction. I'll help you, until our paths diverge, but I don't want any part of the spotlight. I promised Tanaka, I would stand by you until then. You can be the hero. Be everyone's hope and become the greatest emperor Taereun has ever seen. I'll be with you at least until Haven, that should be where Nessa and Thorrin are.”

“Nessa? You know Nessa?” Delilah's pale skin is even paler than normal.

“I knew
a
Nessa, she was a teenager, who Thorrin was looking out for. She couldn't have been playing Taereun for more than a year, when the Great Fuck Over happened.”

Silent tears are running down Delilah's cheeks. “Is … is she alive? She didn't … die?”

“She was still alive, when I was murdered, but I don't what's happened since. As long as Thorrin's alive, he'll protect her.”

Jinmu puts his hand on Delilah's shoulder. “Did your daughter go by the name Nessa?”

Delilah nods. “Yes. She was fascinated by the game. We were worried, my husband and I, because the game was so brutal, but Jessie, my daughter, didn't want to give it up. She was an introverted girl before playing Taereun. We were a traditional family, and Jessi had been mercilessly bullied in school because of it. After starting Taereun, she changed.

“There was someone she idolized. Everyone was terrified of him,  but early on, she met him, before ever hearing the stories about him. Because of him, she stared studying Tai Chi, but when she told him, he called her an idiot girl. I remember how mad she was. She kept yelling about how arrogant he was. She said she would show him that Tai Chi really was a martial art.

“When she learned the stories about him, she was even madder. I've never her so passionate about anything. She said that no one understood him, he only hurt the bullies.”

Delilah pauses smiling through her tears.