The Kartoss Gambit (The Way of the Shaman: Book #2) (46 page)

From the big hill where the temple once stood, you could see very well how a portal appeared before the Beatwick gates. A Herald stepped out of it, looked around and another nine portals appeared from which the Malabar army began to pour out. Five hundred players and ten thousand NPCs.

"It has begun," whispered Naahti, looking pleased.

On one hand, I understood very well that the players, especially the high-level ones, don't have much to worry about. So what if they lose 30% of experience from their current level — it's not exactly fatal. Something else was a much more acute source of worry. Ten thousand high-level NPCs which simply had to be destroyed... I couldn't even imagine the scale of the raid that would have to be organised for such an army.

Shouts started to come from the direction of Beatwick.

"Line up!

First squadron — to the left, second — to the right, third takes the centre. The free citizens should choose any of the sides and try not to get in the way. Army, attack!"

There came the roar of the ten thousand voices of the attackers, though I couldn't quite identify who they were. Did they decide to wipe Beatwick off the face of the earth?

"Beth, would you be able to stop the transformation?" I asked the priestess in a whisper, when the army of Malabar began to encircle Beatwick.

"No," the woman whispered a reply, "even if I was the High Priestess, I wouldn't have enough strength."

"So, looks like the Emperor no longer has a personal guard..." the Advisor looked thoughtful and Naahti sported a pleased smile. "But why, father? Ten thousand Warriors is quite a force, of course, but it isn't one that our heroes would unable to beat. Your plan was doomed to fail from the start. We would not tolerate Kartoss on our territory. Why?"

"And who is guarding the Emperor's palace right now?" Mirida suddenly asked.

"The personal guard..." the Adviser started and immediately fell silent.

"The one that is here now. Or is this some kind of a small vanguard?"

"This is all of them..." the Advisor once again was looking rather pitiful. "And also, all the Heralds and two Advisers. Right now there is only one Adviser by the Emperor..."

"And also three Masters of Kartoss and twenty Magisters; I hope that our priest is there already, and one very interesting Shaman," Naahti summed up. "Not to mention the five thousand Dark Packs. We have somewhat perfected the Transformers, my son. Among other things, they also prevent the use of portals. I permitted the entry here, but now the Heralds are in for a surprise. They wouldn't be able to teleport around. The two years of preparations have borne their fruit. The Emperor will be overthrown and there's no-one there to help him — even all the high-level free citizens are now here, away from the capital. The rabble that remained in the city... For our army it's nothing. Everything had gone exactly according to plan. Enjoy your defeat."

A piercing scream of pain sounded around Beatwick, drowning out all other sounds. A swirl of mist formed around each of the Emperor's guards and when it dissipated, Barliona sported ten thousand more Kartoss minions. High-level minions.

"I think that's it. There's nothing left for me to do here. Although.. Beth, I did promise to finish you off personally, and promises have to be kept."

"Don't you dare touch her or you're not my father anymore!" shouted Tisha, standing between Beth and the Master. "If you..."

The Advisor lost little time and when the Headman turned his back on him, attacked his brothers, enveloping them in cocoons.

"Run!" he shouted to us, when the surprised Master turned to him. "Malabar may not have dodged this blow, but you will not escape here alive! Mahan! Take them all out of here!"

Lightning began to flash around us, the earth began to boil and a great wind started to blow. The Adviser was duelling the Master.

"Phoenix, battle stance! Tanks to the front, full-circle defence!" the shouts of the surrounded players began to be heard from the direction of Beatwick. I recognised Anastaria's voice, in command of her raid group. "Those without a clan, get out!"

"Legion! Alpha formation! Mages — the dome! Plinto — mages are on your group. We'll fight our way to the village!"

"The Dragons are holding ground! "Let's fight out to the forest! "Herald, open the portal!"

By the looks of it, each clan started to fight for itself. If there were viable raid groups present, they would be able to hold out against such an army for some time: the transformed NPCs won't have much space and they would only be able to attack the raid groups over a limited area.

Through the clashing of swords and whizzing of spells there suddenly came a clear sound of a crying baby. How could I forget? Beth and I made enough amulets for 80% of the village population. Those should not transform, but the other 20%... A massacre was underway in Beatwick now!

"Holy Eluna, the children!" whispered Beth in horror and ran to the village.

"Stop, you can't!" Tisha managed to jump on her and the girls rolled on the ground. "You won't get through! There are berserkers all around!"

"Clouter and Mariana are there!" this was the first time in my memory when Beth called her son by his local nickname.

"Beth, he's beyond help now! Look!" The berserkers have began to break down the gates! Beatwick is doomed! We have to get out of here!"

"Everyone shut it!" I wasn't expecting to come out with such a scream, but the panicking women pushed me over the edge. Our previous group had collapsed — probably as soon as the Master removed the temple walls, or even earlier, I missed the exact moment. "I'm making a group — join up quick. Now!" I dropped an invite to Lisa, Tisha and Mirida. The first two accepted without any questions, but the lady player demonstratively raised her eyebrow.

"What do you intend to do, small fry? Knock over ten thousand warriors?"

"My pretty," I hissed. I've really had it with everyone. There will be screaming and a flood of swearwords. "If you don't want to come with us — do us a favour and take a hike. If you'll ask questions and challenge my words — take a hike. If you'll start acting like a spoilt princess — take a hike. Over there, there's a crowd of players hanging out, march over to them and share all your grievances over there. It's not like I really need you or have to explain my actions to you. Are you with me? No? Then off you go! Beth, Tisha, after me, quick!"

Defying logic and common sense, I didn't run for Beatwick, but to the place where the altar to Vlast had previously stood. I was really interested in the passage where the Magiser disappeared. Something told me that that was the direction to head in. The ball of flame into which the grappling Advisor and Maser had turned into, rolled in the direction of the village, having ///swept aside, like a bunch of bowls a large squadron of NPCs. As soon as I stepped behind the altar, I noticed that my group had grown — Mirida accepted the invite.

The passage was immediately behind the altar, with a spiral stair leading into the blackness of the basement. Not allowing myself to switch on my brain, I said: "After me!" and began to descent. At the bottom of the stairs was a narrow passage, lit by a couple of torches. After waiting for the now quiet ladies, I moved ahead. After just a dozen meters the passage turned and brought us to a five-metre-long cave, with some strange device in the middle. The portal which the Magister used to depart here had practically dissipated. And, most importantly, one wall of the cave contained a niche, fenced off with thick iron bars.

"Theodore!" shouted Beth and ran to the prison.

"Beth?" the man in the niche jumped up from the ground and leant against the bars. "Beth, my dearest! Run from here! He may return at any time! The priest of Vlast is a Kartoss Magister!"

"I know, my love...."

"Do you know how to open this thing?" I butted into the conversation of the two lovers, who seemed to lose their head once reunited. Those developers sure like to sprinkle around scenes like that: reuniting of families, return of the prodigal son and so on and so forth. The designers believe it makes the players think and become more tolerant of other people.

"The lever on the other side of the hall," Thodore managed to tear himself away from Beth and turn on his brain. Finally. I need someone in the group now with a head on their shoulders.

"Mirida, find the lever. Theodore, what is your class? Tisha, stop crying!"

"Me? A priest and a healer."

"Great! I'm sending you a group invite. Now all of us grouped up, including Beth. We will quickly free you and get out of here. "Are you able to walk unaided?

"Yes. But what's the point?"

"To get the children out! There is an Armageddon in progress upstairs!"

"Beth, what's he on about?"

"Darling, just trust him. Every second is precious. Avtondil and Mariana are in Beatwick."

"Everyone after me," I shouted when the bars of the cage flew up. I waved away the message that my Charisma went up by 10%, I headed back to the surface. It was time to rescue those wearing our amulets. I just wish I had some idea of how to get through the crowd of those that transformed.

"Hel, hang in there! Rick, the right side is on you! Barrs, grab five and the left edge is yours," as soon as I emerged above ground, I was hit by a torrent of shouts from the players. I looked over the battlefield and chuckled: the players have split themselves into several small-ish groups, about forty people in each, which were being gradually destroyed by the enemy. The loners that responded to the summons of the Emperor were mowed over immediately. Only the clan raid groups held out, but they were being pushed farther and farther from the village. One small comfort was the fact that ten thousand NPCs were unable to knick down the village gates. Far though it was, I could see that the level of Durability of the gates was still half full. If we make it into Beatwick through Beth's passage, we would be able to save all the NPCs who had not been changed. One slight problem was the enormous Kartoss squadron between us and the village, which surrounded the Phoenix and Legion fighters. The clan fighters weren't standing far from each other, but it seems that the question of combining their forces didn't even occur to them. Strange, they'd make their lives a lot easier. Each group contained two or three Heralds that helped to repel the attacks and the Phoenix even sported an Adviser in their ranks.

The ball of flame that was the Headman and his son became a whirlwind and started to race around about five hundred meters from the village.

"Mahan, what should we do?" asked Beth, with a resigned look. "We cannot fight through this crowd."

I had to decide something and quick. I whipped out both amulets from Anastaria and Plinto and activated both.

"YES?" "WHAT?" the players shouted almost at the same time. "Whoever you are, get lost, we've no time for this!"

"Now, shut up and listen here! Anastaria, are you a raid leader? I'm sending you a group invite, join together with all your raiders. Plinto, the same goes for you!"

"Mahan, have you totally lost it?" roared Plinto.

"Mahan, do you know what to do? Where are you?" this one came from Anastaria.

"I have no time to explain. Stacey, just trust me, as usual. I'm on the hill, about three hundred meters away from you. Plinto, damn your ass, don't decline the invite! To me, quick!"

"Phoenix is joining!" shouted Stacey and the frames of thirty players appeared before my eyes. Hellfire's frame constantly jumped up and down: he was probably tanking. "Stacey, what are you doing?" Hellfire's and Rick's shouts could be heard in the amulet.

"Plinto, will we be waiting long for you?" I really didn't care any more. Whether they were high-level or not, but first and foremost they were a gathering of disorganised idiots, each thinking only about himself.

"Plinto, this is Anastaria! Let's group up! I agree with Mahan, it will make it easier for all. We will see your frames and would be able to heal you, if needed."

"Go to hell! Legion never backs down! We'll win!" with these words Plinto turned off the amulet.

"Forget him! Mahan, what do you propose?"

"Stacey, give the amulet to the Advisor!"

"Mahan? even in the heat of the battle the voice of the Advisor was calm.

"Advisor, I know that the Heralds are unable to form portals. In this area only Kartoss portals work. I happen to have a couple. But before I use them, I need to get people out of the village!" What am I saying? This is a game! I have immersed myself so much in it that I no longer take any notice of the high-level players, dictate my conditions to an Advisor and, in general, am carrying on like a 400-level character. "If we each fight separately, we will be ran over very quickly! We have to join up, but other clans won't go under Phoenix. Their pride won't allow it. I'm not from Phoenix and they don't know me. Give me the opportunity to command the clans in this fight," that's it, my foot was off the brakes, as they say. I'll cook up such a fantastic mess now that I'll be giving myself a good kicking for it all later.

"Are you sure you can handle it, twenty-leveller?" a thoughtful voice of the Advisor came from the amulet.

"We'll have to find out, won't we? It's not like we have any choice. Half the mana is already gone — another five minutes and the Phoenix fighters will depart for the Grey Lands. I can't tell what will happen with the Heralds and Advisors, but I doubt it'll be very pleasant."