Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God (18 page)

“Mark? Mark McGuinness?” The blonde haired man is staring at me with his mouth hanging open.

“Mark, is that really you?” The raven haired woman is staring at me wide-eyed, while facing three-quarters away from me and covering her tits with her arm.

“Oh, my god. He's that ugly freak, the one that was in the coma ward.” The blonde is staring at me, disgust visible on her face.

The brunette has her eyes glued on my face, with her had over her mouth, saying nothing.

“Mark, how did you get here?” The blond man's face is the epitome of confusion.

“Who the fuck are you people? I get that you have something to do with the hospital, but who the fuck are you?”

The blonde man points to himself. “I'm Sigurd, John, your physical therapist.”

“Who are the rest?”

Sigurd points to the man next to him. “This is Harkins, he's a chiropractor in real life, but you never would have met him. The lady with the long black hair is Delilah, she's Deborah Kowalski.”

Delilah points to the blonde woman. “This is Xenia, she was a nurse in the coma ward, but she transferred out after Dr. Turner took over. Perzey was the same, she couldn't stand working under Dr. Turner either.”

I want to shake my head. I want to scream and curse. This is the work of The Nameless. He is still playing games and fucking with people, fucking with me. I am going to kill the fucking wanabe god, if it is the last thing I do.

Sigurd waves me closer. “Mark, you're a Taereun player. You know who Thug Horde are. How did you get past them?”

“Ravix was the only one here. Everyone else was the local Shit Hole trash.”

Sigurd cringes fearfully. “There are eight more. Ravix seemed to be the weakest of them. He was pushed around by the rest.”

“Wait! Where are you going?”

When I look back, Perzey, the brunette, is kneeling in front of her cell door, her knuckles white from gripping the bars so hard.

“I'm leaving. You're all fucking adepts or casters. You can break out of crappy cells like that on your own.”

“You can't go! They have Raven! They'll kill her if we don't stay here!” Tears are running down Perzey's cheeks.

“So, you all know your real bodies are dead?”

“We all heard this voice in our heads, telling us we were trapped in our character's bodies for the rest of our lives. Then, we were hit with our characters memories. It was awful, trying to deal with two sets of memories fighting for dominance. When we were coherent again, we we couldn't log out. The menu was gone.” John has a terrified look on his face as he gives me the minimal details.

I cannot hold back a single bark of morbid laughter. “Your real bodies are all dead. Over a million Taereun players are trapped in their characters. If you die, it's game over. Grow a pair and fight for yourselves. Thug Horde is nothing but trash.”

“NO! I won't let you go! They'll kill my sister!” The women's cell door crashes open, and Perzey comes hurtling towards me, twists of air under her feet speeding her with superhuman acceleration.

I slip aside, and the flat of my palm slaps Perzey in the stomach. She falls to her knees puking, and I turn to start up the stairs again. Hands grabs my foot, desperately clinging to me. Perzey is dragged through her own puke, as I take another inexorable step up the stairs.

“NO! STOP! PLEASE! MY SISTER!”

“Look at me!”

Perzey's face is pressed against her outstretched arms, as she sobs pathetically.

“LOOK AT ME!”

Perzey turns her face up toward me. Her disgust is obvious, as I push back my hood, leaving nothing to hide the scars and patchy hair.

“If you were in my schools, would you have said anything when I was harassed? When I was endlessly called 'Freddy Kruger' or 'Jason' would you have done anything to help me? Would your sister have done anything?”

“Yes! Don't go! They'll kill, Rachael!”

“BULLSHIT! I CAN SEE THE DISGUST IN YOUR EYES! YOU CAN BARELY STAND TO LOOK AT MY FACE!”

As the echoes of my screams fade, Perzey's face drops back onto her arms. Sobbing, she tries to hold tighter to my ankle.

My eyes rake all of them cowering in their cells. I can barely hold back from kicking the cowering bitch at my feet back into her cell.

“Lying, fucking cunt! No one, not single person, ever stood to say it was wrong! When I would let the ones trying to bully me drag me to where there were no social cameras and beat them bloody, shit like you would lie and say I attacked them! If you want your sister to live, walk out of this dungeon and fight! I can understand you not standing up for someone like me. I'm a freak. I'm disfigured. I'm hostile and violent. But you won't stand up for your own sister. YOU DISGUST ME! I WANT TO PUKE ALL OVER YOU!”

“Mark! Stop it! Please!” Sigurd's face is pale, and his eyes are red. “We're not like you. We could never beat up people in the real world. We can't beat monsters like Thug Horde. You might be tough in the real world, but you don't even have your character's body and powers. They'll just beat you or kill you, if you attack them. We have our character's bodies, and it took them less than fifteen seconds to destroy us.”

Sssshhhhrrrreeeeaaaakkkk!

They all stare in wide-eyed incomprehension, as I casually sink one of my swords to the hilt in the stone blocks of the wall.

“Who the fuck needs some other body to fight shit bags like Thug Horde?” Ripping my sword from the wall, I sheathe it.

Perzey's hands limply fall to the floor, as I pull my foot loose and walk up the stairs.

“A slight difference of opinion?” Jinmu has a shadow of a smile on his lips, as I exit the keep.

“Cowards. I know two of them from the hospital.”

Ravix's eyes bug out of his skull, as I pick him up by the throat and shake him. He coughs spasmodically, as I let his feet touch the ground again.

“Raven, the last player, where is she?”

Ravix's eyes dart wildly all around the courtyard, as he looks for a means of escape. When I shake him a little, he glues his eyes on my face.

“You mean the little healer girl? We let her go! She ran away and left her friends behind.”

“Bullshit. How about I start tearing your fingers off one at a time? When I'm done with your fingers, I'll tear your dick off.”

Ravix's eyes tear up, and he starts sobbing, gasping out words between sobs. “It wasn't me! I swear I never touched her! Kahar is the one who did it!”

“Where is she?”

“The keep. The second floor.”

Dragging Ravix by my grip on his throat, I enter the keep and ascend to the second floor. Ravix scrambles to keep up with me. Being bent over backwards, he has to use his hands to keep his balance on the stairs. I hear Jinmu's steps going into the dungeon below me. He can deal with the cowards in the cells.

The second floor is divided into five rooms. The main area is a ruined feast hall, but I do not see anyone around. Only one of the tables appears to be in use currently, but dirty plates, bowls and utensils are gathering dust on the others.

When I hold him up by the throat, Ravix points to the back room on the right. Inside is the corpse of a naked girl in her late teens. The bones in her arms and legs are clearly broken, and her face is bloody, bruised, and disfigured. From the amount of blood on the floor around her hips and the dried blood on her groin, she was probably raped so badly, that she bled to death.

“That girl's sister is in the cell below. Maybe, I should break your arms and legs and leave you here.”

The reek of urine fills the air, and a yellow puddle forms on the floor under my feet.

My slap shatters Ravix's jaw, so he cannot scream properly, when I dislocate his shoulders and hips. I leave him flopping around like a fish out of water, when I go back downstairs.

As I reach the first floor, Jinmu is coming up from the dungeon, with the former players in tow. I point toward the second floor.

“Back room on the right. She's been dead for at least a day.”

Perzey stares at me, not seeing me, while shaking her head.

“NNNOOOOOO!”

With the shriek echoing inside the ancient keep, I walk out the door. Jinmu follows the former players to the second floor.

“If any of you are still here after ten breaths, I will kill you. Leave.”

The trash charges the keep gate in a mad rush, not even slowing down to pick anything up. From the keep, muffled screams reach my ears.

When we thought Taereun was just a game, Thug Horde made a game out of murder, rape and torture. After the Great Fuck Over, they turned it into a way of life. Now, these Thuggies are doing the same thing.

I would not mind fucking Delilah, but she would probably puke, if I laid a hand on her. Even if she did not puke, I might not be able to keep the image of her old body out of my mind, middle aged women just do not get me hard.

After close to half an hour, Jinmu leads the former players out of the ruined keep. They are all dressed and armed. When my stare rakes over them, only Jinmu meets my eyes. His face is solemn, and I am certain there is something he wants to tell me, something that I will not like. I can already guess what it is.

“Listen up! Unlike you, I am here by my own choice. I willingly chose to return to Taereun. Mark McGuinness is dead. I am not Mark, I am Brand. Now and forever, I am Brand.”

Jinmu nods, with the hint of a smile on his lips. “Brand, I have chosen to form a party with these people. This is my party, I am the party's leader. We need your strength. Would you please join?”

My lips twist into my normal, nasty smirk. “I don't have any kind of party device. So unless one you knows how to cast the party spell, it's not happening.”

Sigurd steps forward, with his right extended and open. In his left hand, he is holding a gold charm, on a delicate gold chain. “I'm sorry for what I said in that dungeon. I'm ashamed of how I acted. Jinmu has agreed to lead us, and he has the party charm from the dead Thug. This belonged to Raven. We all agreed; we want you to have it. Please, join us. We need your strength and your help.”

When I do not reach out for the charm, Sigurd raises his eyes hesitantly to meet my own. I can see the embarrassment in his eyes, but I do not really understand what else I am seeing. He manages to hold my gaze, as I stare at him for several long minutes.

I reach out and take the party charm.

“Party invite.”

Gold text, invisible to everyone else, appears in front of my eyes. The language and characters are from the Slave Tongue, the common language of the Battlefield of the Damned.

You have been invited to join Jinmu's party.

Do you accept?

I look at Jinmu. “Accept.”

*Welcome to the party.*

*Thank you, Brand*

*Welcome.*

*I … I'm … thank you.*

I take the hand that Sigurd is still offering me. His grip is a lot stronger now, than it was when he was John.

*Thank you, Brand.*

“We have no idea where there rest of the Thugs went, or when they will be back.” Sigurd shakes head, while talking.

“Then, there is no point in wasting much time here. We are en route to Bogwater, to do the Bag Quest.” I look at Jinmu, and he nods.

“Um. Actually, we were on the Bag Quest, when we came here. We just never expected to get ambushed by Thug Horde.” Sigurd eyes are downcast, and even with his tan, his cheeks seem to be slightly flushed.

“Why did you come here for the Bag Quest? The frog sends people deep into the swamp collecting mats that he needs for his crafting and research.”

“He does?” Sigurd's head snaps up, as his eyes widen.

“Just what happened, when you went to the frog for the quest.”

I do not need to hear the explanation, when I see Delilah and Xenia turn beet red. Perzey seems oblivious to what is happening around her.

Sigurd glances at the women, for a moment. “When we arrived at his workshop Slan'laad was rather rude to Harkins and myself, but he was practically fawning all over the ladies. After we told him what kind of bags we wanted, he said the we could have them for free, as long as all four women spent the week with him.

“After Raven called him a disgusting frog, he flew into a rage, screaming at us to leave. It took quite a while to calm him down. He finally agreed to make our bags, and in return we were to come here and buy sixteen ten-weights of dragon scales from the lord of the keep.

“When we got here, Kahar was the one who met with us, and after learning what we wanted, he led us into the keep. We never expected there to be nine of them, or that they would attack. They overpowered us in seconds, and took Raven away separately. They told us she would die if we resisted. The took our gear, stripped and groped the ladies and threw us all in the cells. Except for Ravix bringing us food, you were the first person we saw in three days.”

My short laugh is vicious. “The frog set you up. He must have a deal with this Thug Horde group. As remote as this place is, there were never more than a handful of players here at any one time. It's a perfect location for the weaker Thuggies to have some fun.”

Sigurd shakes head, vehemently. “They aren't weak. Even Ravix is too strong, you must have gotten lucky to beat him.”

My nasty laughter echoes in the courtyard. “Ravix strong? Are you fucking crazy? He was just a gutless bitch, with an aberrant casting ability that would let him get the jump on most people. No one in Thug Horde who was really strong would waste time here.

“What did Ravix have on him?”

Except for Jinmu and Perzey, everyone looks a little green.

Sigurd swallows. “We didn't loot him. He was a real person. How could you loot a real person?”

The hospital staff all fidget in the face of my glace. “Everyone here is a real person. Taereun has always been just as real as Earth. Your character's souls were destroyed on the first day you connected to the Battleground of the Damned.  Every time you killed someone here, you killed a real person.”

They all turn pale, even the nearly oblivious Perzey. They obviously have not thought through the implications of their situation.

“Jinmu, you didn't loot him either?”

He shakes his head. “The idea never crossed my mind.”

I sigh and start toward the keep.

Staring at the half-naked ruin of a human body beneath my feet, I can only marvel at the vindictiveness of women. A rolled up strip of cloth about eight inches wide is on the floor amid Ravix's shredded pants. Among the other tortures, his dick has been ripped of and stuffed in his mouth, and his rod was shoved so far up his ass, it must have punctured his lung. This kind of brutality rivals how Thug Horde treated its victims, both when they thought Taereun was just a game and after the Great Fuck Over.

Checking the rings still on Ravix's fingers, I find that three of them are Power imbued. His belt and hat are as well. The rest of his clothing and even the rod, which I leave in his ass, seem to be completely mundane. His death severed the soul threads to all of the items, and I attach my own to the rings and the belt. The hat is different, I cannot feel where to attach a thread, so it will require some knowledge to unlock its thread points.

All three rings and the belt are dimensional storage devices, and all of them are crammed full of items. Storage items like these are not overly common, but they are not what you would consider rare either. Generally most dimensional storage items are bags or packs of various design. The venerable “Bags of Holding,” as some players called them. I heard that the name was somewhere around a century old, coming form before computer games, when people played role-playing games face to face on paper.

Looking through them, I find coins, gems, jewelry, blankets, food, clothing, armor, weapons, assorted random tools, and mirrors. Nothing is power imbued, but all of the mirrors are of an astonishingly high quality. It turns out Ravix seems to have been quite a pack rat.

Around the corpses neck, hidden inside its shirt, is a heavy gold chain with five whisper charms attached to it. After tying soul threads to them, I find imprints of people stored within four of them, that include a number of duplicates. The last one is different and has a number of people I recognize as being from Thug Horde or its minion guilds. I put the chain and charms inside one of the rings for now.

Wrapping the dead girls body in a blanket, I bring it to the courtyard. Perzey stares ate me, her eyes wide and the shock obvious on her face. She starts to walk toward me a little unsteadily, swaying side to side with each step. Tears start to flow from her eyes again, Perzey silently takes her sisters blanket wrapped corpse and hugs it tightly. She is too busy wallowing in her own grief to be functional right now.

“You should burn her body. The ground here is too soft and muddy for a proper burial.”

I bring down a couple of the ramshackle wooden shacks in the courtyard and build a pile of wood. In the tavern, I grab several jugs of high proof alcohol and pour them over the wood pile.

“Put her body here. We need to take care of this before we move on.”

Perzey shakes her head, cling to the corpse. I look at Jinmu, and he walks over to Perzey, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“I know how it feels to lose family. My wife died giving birth to my daughter, and my daughter was a victim of the MMO incident. You are still alive. You have allow your sister to rest and keep living. I am certain that is what she would want for you. Here, let me help lay her to rest.”

Jinmu gently takes the blanket wrapped corpse and lays it on the pyre. Picking up a piece of alcohol soaked wood, he lights it afire with his ki.

“She is your sister. Send her to her rest.” Jinmu holds out the burning wood.

Tears still rolling down her cheeks, Perzey takes the impromptu torch and throws it on the pile of alcohol soaked wood. The fire flares up into the twilight sky, and Perzey looks up, but I do not know what she is seeing.

“I remember seeing you come to visit your daughter. My daughter was a Taereun player as well. She was in the same coma ward, with Mark and your daughter.  After she died, my husband jumped off the balcony of our apartment, he committed suicide.” Delilah had moved near Jinmu, while my mind was wandering. She probably thinks she is speaking too softly for others to overhear her.

I am not at the Half-Dvergar level, but since I have begun ki training, my sensed have become far more acute than they were in the past.

Jinmu glances in my direction for a moment, but with my hood up, there is no possible way for him to see my face in its shadows. He puts his are around Delilah's shoulder and draws her close.

“My condolences on your loss, but there might be hope. Brand said that many of the other players were still alive at the time of his character's death. Both our daughters may still be among the living, even if it is in the bodies of their characters.”

Delilah's arms go around Jinmu's neck. tightly hugging him. “Thank you. I hope that it might be true.”

While no one's attention is focused on me, I slip deeper into the shadows next to the shoddy tavern. I may not have the power of the Od, but I have rebuilt the physical skills of Talon in this body. No one here, except possibly Jinmu, would be able to discern my presence, and even Jinmu would have difficulty.

Awkwardly at first, Jinmu's arms encircle Delilah's back, then their embrace of each other tightens. Delilah whispers in his ear, and now her words are too soft for me to hear. After a few minutes, the pair walks toward the keep, hand in hand.

Looking around awkwardly, Perzey's arms tightly hug her own chest. Harkins, who has been standing near her the  entire time, gently rests his hand on her shoulder. Perzey's head turns toward him, somewhat vacantly. After a moment, she clutches the straps of his weapon harness and leans against him sobbing. When her sobs turn to sniffles, her arms snake around his neck, and her mouth moves close to his ear. Not hesitating, Harkins scoops her into his arms and quickly walks into one of the ramshackle huts.

Soon, moans and panting breath can be heard from both the keep and the shack.

Sigurd is sitting on the rickety porch of the tavern, drinking from a jug of the tavern's harsh, raw alcohol. His eyes keep straying towards Xenia, who, after stripping off her boiled leather armor, is wearing nothing but a suede halter top and loincloth. Stretching like a  contented cat, she walks over to the tavern porch.

“Why don't let me have a sip of that.” Taking the jug from Sigurd's hand, she drinks a healthy swig and pours some over her huge tits.

“Oops. Not paying attention. I'm so horny listening to the others fucking.” With a shrug, Xenia takes off the halter top, her eyes never leaving Sigurd's. “You love huge tits, don't you?”

Standing, Sigurd licks the alcohol offer Xenia's huge tits, while she moans with pleasure. Dragging the moaning Xenia with him, Sigurd backs into the open door of the tavern.

I remember reading that humans seek out other humans for sexual contact after facing death or life-threatening circumstances. They seek out other humans, or at least those they see as being human. It is supposedly a way to reaffirm that they are still alive. I saw it often enough during the years in the Lands of Despair, to believe that it is truth.

During the bigger battles, the nastier ones, there were a few women would stay near me. I was the most lethal bastard in every battle, anything that came too close to me died. Even the women who would stay near me during the battles would always shy away from me after the killing was over. Now, I am not just a Half-Dvergar, I am horror movie villain. This is going to happen time and again. It did not particularly phase me, as a Half-Dvergar, but now, I need to adjust my thinking.

A ghost would be louder than I am, as I walk out of the Shit Hole.