Chapter 6 - Blood Magic

  Driana pressed her masked face closer to Alice’s, drawing her dagger with a cruel laugh that echoed through the playroom hall.

  Robert’s grip tightened around his staff as he gritted his teeth, ready to strike with a spell when a door opened behind him. Metal wheels squeaked across the stone floor as Robert and Brukk glanced back over their shoulders and saw the ghoul pushing a long table covered by a white linen drape.

  “Druffus!” the Baron called out from the stage. “What are you doing? I did not summon you!” he shouted in annoyance.

  The ghoul ignored his master and continued forward. The squeak of the rolling table’s steel wheels grated against everyone’s ears in the grand hall as it pushed the cart between Robert and Brukk. Robert stared at the undead creature, which kept its gaze lowered, avoiding the eyes of everyone in the room.

  “Hey, dog!” Driana snarled, still crouched beside Alice. “Remember the last time you didn’t obey? Move your disgusting self away from them at once!”

  Robert watched as the ghoul slowly raised his hooded head. His black eyes glistened in the candlelight emanating from the stage, and Robert saw something there, not the quiet despair he’d noticed in the dungeon, but something far darker burning behind that hollow, dead mask that had once been human. Rage...

  The ghoul yanked the linen sheet from the table, revealing a man’s form beneath. The man’s clothes were muddy, his face beaten nearly beyond recognition. Blood seeped from open wounds all over, and beneath the man’s crossed arms, posed as if laid in a coffin, rested two wands, one wooden and one silver. Oswin… my dear Enchanter. What have they done to you? Robert thought, horrified.

  “What kind of joke is this, Druffus? You were supposed to dispose of the Enchanter! I told you he was too dangerous, he was not to live!” the Baron shouted.

  “Traitor!” Driana screamed toward the ghoul. Robert looked up toward the necromancer still on the stage, just as Alice’s eyes shot open. In a rapid movement, still tied upside down, she swung her body upward, slamming her head into Driana’s mask with a sharp crack.

  “You bitch!” Driana screamed in pain as she tumbled backward across the stage.

  “Go!” Robert shouted to Brukk as he sent a heal toward the unconscious Oswin. The orc gladiator leaped into the air, his massive form arcing high across the playroom toward the stage.

  Robert cast a second rapid heal on Oswin, who jolted awake this time with a scream. Spinning toward the stage, Robert fired a Holy Bolt at Alice’s feet. The light traveled across the dim room in a blur as it struck her boots in a blast of light. Holy fire burned through leather and rope as she cried out in pain. The flame, still weak compared to Robert’s other spells, was enough to weaken the cord until it snapped beneath her weight, sending her crashing to the floor.

  “Get up, Oswin!” Robert shouted. “Fight!”

  He pulled the delirious enchanter to his wobbly feet as the ghoul slipped out through the doorway it had come from.

  “Come on, Oswin, snap out of it!” he urged, trying to shake him back to his senses, while up on the stage Brukk slashed at the Blood Mage with several quick strikes from his long gray claws. The Baron’s slender form dodged the orc’s onslaught with inhuman speed, his movements sharp and always one step ahead of the slower beast attacking him.

  Robert cast a heal toward Varg, hoping to revive him to assist the big orc, but the warrior was too far gone for such a simple spell. He regained a sliver of color but remained dangling lifelessly upside down while chaos erupted all around him. Robert swallowed his frustration and chose to save what little mana he had left for the fight ahead.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Basic Heal (Level 10)]

  “Where am I, Robert?” Oswin cried in confusion.

  “The Swamp Baron’s manor! They’re trying to kill everyone! Come on, Oswin, wake up, we need you now!” Robert urged, dragging the dazed enchanter forward, one of Oswin’s arms slung over his shoulder. Concern gripped Robert as he realized he had to rely on the enchanter’s offensive abilities, but they had little choice now, with only him and the orc truly immune to the Baron’s glamor spells. They had fumbled halfway down the hall toward the battle on the stage when Driana began to scream.

  The sound stopped Robert and Oswin in their tracks as the screeching voice poisoned their eardrums. He met the necromancer’s wild blue eyes as she looked out toward them, her voice echoing through the hall as if she were trying to wake all the dead in the world. A rancid smell began to spread through the room. Her breath? Robert thought, just as Brukk’s form blew through the air, crashing into the chairs and the seated corpse to their left. One of the orc’s clawed hands fell lifeless in the pathway in front of them, severed at the wrist. How did that happen? he thought, not seeing a weapon on the Baron, who was dusting off his trousers near the back of the stage.

  Robert looked toward Brukk, who was lying on the wooden floor clutching the stump of his hand as black blood spattered across the boards, when Driana’s scream was suddenly silenced, drawing his attention back to the stage. Alice had crawled up from behind and was choking the witch with her bound wrists. Robert could see the panic in Driana’s eyes as Alice choked the life out of her, but the silence did not last. Seconds later, the Blood Mage approached them, laughing as he glamored Alice back into unconsciousness. Robert watched as she crumpled on top of Driana, who now gasped desperately for air.

  All around Robert and Oswin, bodies began to twitch and jerk as the necromancer’s silenced spell still held, dragging the audience of the dead back to life. “Kill them, kill them!” Driana rasped from the stage.

  “This is not how I expected my grand play to reach its finale, dear healer,” the Baron called out as he joined Driana, who was struggling to rise.

  The undead around the hall were fully awake now, their hollow eyes fixed on Robert and Oswin standing helpless in the center of the room. Robert looked around in panic, unsure how they could possibly escape as they hesitated. To their right, Brukk was still writhing on the floor, clutching the stump of his lost limb as the undead around him began to rise and circle him amongst the rubble of chairs.

  “But you’ve proven more resourceful than I expected from a lowly cleric,” the Baron continued. “Still, I digress,” he added, as the blood within the silver basin beneath the suspended Varg began to tremble. It swirled upward like a spiraling red vortex, coiling around the stage before forming into two crimson orbs that hovered above the Blood Mage’s outstretched hands.

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  Oh no, Robert thought as the spheres twisted into long, spear-like tendrils and shot forward with blinding speed. He barely registered the motion before pain erupted through his abdomen as the first spear impaled him. Oswin cried out as the second tore through his shoulder.

  Robert and Oswin continued to scream as the Baron added, “Tell Merelda I’m sorry, it wasn’t me.”

  Robert felt his blood begin to boil as it had in the dining room, his head pulsing with fire as his vision started to fade.

  “No,” he hissed through bloodied teeth. “No!”

  He cast his Party Heal, the channeled spell bursting outward in a brilliant circle of holy light that illuminated the ground around him. The blood tentacles recoiled against the surge of magic as the burning within his veins eased for a moment.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Party Heal (Level 5)]

  “You can tell Merelda yourself, Baron. She’s waiting for you!” Robert shouted, taking a painful step forward.

  He could feel the Baron’s spell intensifying, scorching him from within, but his healing fought it back as fast as it came. He poured more mana into the cast, the light growing brighter as he advanced toward the stage, dragging Oswin beside him step by step, his staff held high before him.

  The undead all around lumbered toward them, drawn into Robert’s light as they spilled into his trap. One by one they ignited, bursting into flames as they lunged into the circle of healing light, creating a halo of fire that began to consume the wooden hall in a bright blaze. One of the undead, faster than the rest, managed to reach Oswin before the fire took it, grabbing the enchanter’s leg with a burning hand. Oswin cried out, but the charred flesh began to mend under the constant flow of healing as they pressed forward, the Baron’s blood tentacles swirling around them, searching for a weakness in the radiant shell of Robert’s spell.

  “Oswin! The Baron’s amulet, enchant it now!” Robert shouted through the pain as his blood continued to boil inside him. He watched the Baron still standing atop the stage through the glare of holy light, his hands outstretched. Even through the haze of light and smoke, he could make out the single red eye straining in rage as the Baron’s youthful form began to evaporate before them, his body twisting as he amplified his blood magic.

  The enchanter, usually timid in battle, lifted his silver wand and bellowed in defiance, “This is for you, you big jerk!” A brilliant bolt of pink lightning burst from the wand, arcing through the air until it struck the green amulet on the Baron’s chest with perfect precision.

  Robert thought he saw the Baron’s one eye widen in fear, or at least he liked to think he did, if only for a moment, before the amulet exploded in a burst of pink light, taking the cruel man’s head along with it.

  “No!” Driana screamed as she crawled toward the headless body of the Swamp Baron.

  Robert released his Party Heal, feeling the burn inside him fade as the Baron’s curse lost its hold. He bolted forward toward the stage with Oswin at his side, the two of them rushing to Alice and Varg’s unconscious bodies.

  Back among the seats of the hall, Robert glanced over his shoulder and saw the one-handed orc still fighting for his life against the remaining undead that had flooded over him on the right side of the playhouse. Hang on, Brukk. One battle at a time, he thought, as two of the undead that had followed them through the spreading fire leapt onto the stage at their heels. Robert reignited his Party Heal, the glowing circle flaring around them. Its light mended what it could of Alice and Varg, who both awoke with gasps.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Party Heal (Level 6)]

  The two undead that landed on the stage behind them burst into flames the instant they touched the circle of light. Oswin kicked their burning bodies off the edge, sending them crashing back to the floor below.

  With the last of his mana spent, Robert rushed to the ghastly Varg, who was just beginning to stir. “Oswin, help Alice up!” he shouted. “I’m out of mana, we have to get out of here before the entire manor burns down! We need to move!”

  An undead corpse slammed limply against the wall beside the stage as he spoke. Brukk had tossed the lanky body across the hall. Robert checked on him again, and the orc seemed to be gaining the upper hand, or so Robert thought. The one-handed fighter had three undead clinging to his back while he smashed another against the floor with his free hand.

  He can manage, Robert thought, turning his attention back to the stage. He pulled the lever on the side of the post that had suspended Varg upside down, and the big man’s body came crashing to the floor.

  “Robert, here!” Oswin called out as he ran up beside him, holding a silver dagger, the same one Driana had used to stab Brukk back in the dungeon. Just past Oswin, Alice stood over the necromancer, clutching her bloodied white leather vest with one hand while the other drove a gloved fist again and again into the masked woman’s face. “You want a new face, do you?” Alice cried out as she continued to pummel the white mask. “Well, let me give you one!” she shouted. The porcelain mask cracked with each blow, shards breaking away to reveal the ghastly sight beneath.

  “Call them off!” Alice added before bringing down another punch.

  Robert turned from the brutal scene and began cutting the ropes that bound Varg.

  “I hate you,” Robert heard Driana gurgle through her shattered mask, though he couldn’t tell if the words were meant for Alice or for him. A split second later, the chaos in the playhouse began to quiet, except for the roaring fire still spreading along the left side of the hall. The undead that had been clinging to Brukk slid from his back one by one, collapsing into a lifeless heap around the battered orc.

  Robert finished cutting loose the thick ropes that had bound Varg’s ankles and wrists as thick smoke continued to fill the air, stinging his eyes and making it hard to breathe as the party began to cough around him. Then a sudden, massive explosion echoed through the hall, deafening Robert and throwing him to the floor from the blast.

  His ears ringing, Robert slowly sat upright, blinking through the haze until he saw a finally conscious Varg trying to crawl toward him. What was that? Robert thought. Had the fire somehow ignited some fuel source? The smoke had grown even thicker now, suffocating as the flames climbed higher, reaching the large red curtains tied off to one side of the stage.

  Robert pushed himself up with the help of his staff, then helped Varg to his feet. He looked around the smoky stage as the heat from the growing fire seared his face. Through the orange glow, he saw Oswin helping Alice to stand while she rubbed her bruised forehead. Driana was nowhere to be seen, and her father’s headless corpse lay sprawled across the wooden stage.

  “Where did that explosion come from?” Robert asked. “Was it the witch?” He scanned the haze. Through the smoke, he glimpsed moonlight breaking through what had once been the far wall of the playhouse. A massive section was missing, blown inward by some concussive force.

  “I’m not sure, Robert, but we have to leave before this place comes down on top of us!” Oswin cried as he helped Alice to her feet.

  “What now, priest?” Brukk rasped as he hauled himself onto the stage beside them, his chest rising heavily with each breath. His gray skin was speckled with fresh bite marks, each in a different stage of healing, and the stump of his missing hand had already sealed, the bleeding stopped.

  “Help me get Varg up,” Robert said as he struggled to lift the delirious warrior to his feet. Brukk lumbered over, reached down with his good arm, and hefted Varg over his shoulder. The big man mumbled something Robert couldn’t understand as he dangled over the orc like a rag doll.

  Oswin and Alice moved toward them, confused by the massive orc’s presence but trusting Robert as they all began to make their way backstage, away from the spreading fire.

  “Brukk! What are you doing?” someone shouted from behind the flames below the stage.

  Everyone turned toward the gruff voice. Through the smoke and fire, Robert could just make out several pairs of red eyes staring back at them through the smoke.

  Robert, confused, looked toward Brukk, who was staring through the smoke at the faceless red eyes. After a moment, the big orc turned toward Robert, his expression hardening. In a low, rumbling voice, he growled, “Run!”