Manifest Page 36

  Dwik had already decapitated one imp by the time Gitch crossed the threshold, his surprise attack guaranteeing him a critical hit. Three of the four other imps were still in a state of shock. The fourth, however, shot up and threw himself at the unluckiest son of a Gitch’s mother in the room. Even a surprise attack did little to affect his own crappy luck score.

  The imp wrapped himself around Gitch and the two fell through the air. He could hear the sound of battle elsewhere in the room as his friends, and Feckle, joined the fray. Gitch couldn’t pay them any mind, however, as he was a little preoccupied with his own little dance of death.

  His imp was far larger, and apparently thought himself far stronger. He tried rolling over so that Gitch took the brunt of their fall on his face, but Gitch had another idea. He used his own strength to roll with the imp, using his foe’s own momentum against him. His impromptu plan worked, leaving Gitch on top.

  YOU HAVE SUFFERED 19 PHYSICAL DAMAGE!

  The imp looked much the worse for wear. There was a sizable dent in his dunce-cap, and a steady stream of black blood leaked from a cut on his brow. The imp lay on the ground, barely moving. Gitch, not feeling so bad, all things considered, rose up from the ground. In one clean motion, he whipped out his needle and drove the pointy end through the imp’s black heart.

  You have slain player: PUTRUX

  Level: 5

  Experience points received: 215 (200)

  New global PVP rank: 1,095,360,437

  Kill count: 1

  “Ermagersh!” Gitch exclaimed as he read the text. He wasn’t sure what was more shocking, killing an actual player or that over a billion people had beaten him to it. He supposed his wasn’t an actual murder. It wasn’t like the imp would stay dead. The douche would probably just wind up back at his respawn point anyway. Respawn! Gitch stared down at the corpse as it shimmered and then vanished from view.

  “Crap!”

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Kraznik hovering beside him. “Hey man, what’s wrong? You know we won, right?”

  “Did we? I’m not so sure...”

  “Well, aren’t you a downer. We didn’t lose anyone, and managed to set the prisoners free. Dwik already checked the bodies for keys and is unlocking the cell as we speak. I call that a win!” Kraz said, slapping his knee and grinning like a dummy.

  “I guess, but-”

  “Lads and wolfies,” Dwik announced, stepping back into the center room. “This here be Tacka! Um... please don’t eat her,” he said, looking directly at Goldie. Gitch stood with mouth wide-open, staring at a two-foot-tall orange haired mountain goat. The beast scanned the room before resting her eyes. She opened its mouth and let out the most horrendous, terrifying, code-yellow scream he had ever heard. The room seemed to shake at the afront, but Dwik took it all in stride.

  “That be her happy voice. She is right pleased to see us!” he explained. The gnome looked at ‘Taka’ as a proud father would his child.

  “Then what the hell was she saying earlier?” Feckle asked.

  Dwik looked at him crossly before replying. “That was her scared voice, pip-squeak. The evil boogers kept my baby all ‘lone in that pen back there. I knew it was Tacka the moment I heard her first scream, which be why I rushed all the way here!”

  “So where are the other prisoners?”

  “Others? Nah, just be her.”

  “But why-”

  “AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Tacka screamed. She had just spotted Kraznik and bolted through the open door.

  “Goldie, Alpha, go track her down while we loot these bodies,” Kraz said with a sigh. The two wolves shot through the door, chasing the screaming Tacka down the hall.

  “Oh sure, that’ll calm her down,” Dwik spat out. “Two giant wolves breathin’ down ‘er neck. I’m sure she’ll be comin’ right back!”

  “Feckle, go calm her down. As a fairy, it shouldn’t be too hard. Even for you,” Gitch said.

  Feckle looked like he was about to object, but Gitch wasn’t about to be interrupted. Not now.

  “Dwik, go with him. Once you catch up with the wolves, saddle up on Goldie and escape this mountain as fast as you can. We are about to get a whole lot of company, and you won’t respawn if killed.” He paused briefly, looking at Kraznik. “You and I will keep going. We have to reach the portal.” The imp gave him a firm nod. His expression was grim, but he raised a fist to his heart in solidarity.

  “Woah, woah, woah! How do you know all that?” Feckle asked.

  “Because that imp was a player named Putrux. He has likely respawned already, and he knows just how, and where he died. They are coming.”

  No one spoke right away, each pondering the words they had just heard. In their silence, Gitch could just make out the faintest of shouts as imps began crying out in alarm. They were out of time.

  “Um, yeah... sounds like a personal problem. Good luck!” Feckle said nervously. He flew out of the room without another word.

  Kraz sighed again. “His invisibility would have been nice.”

  “Meh. I think the time for stealth is over, we need to get a move on. Speaking of which...” Gitch looked at Dwik, who had not made any move towards the door.

  “Oh, yeah. Nice suggestion. But you can blow it up yer willie! No way I leave a friend in this hell-hole!” the gnome declared fervently.

  “Thanks, Dwik, that means a lot. I know we have been-”

  “HA! Yer too easy. I was talkin’ bout Misha! There is plenty of blood and fur back in the pen from what used to be Polka, but I know in me bones that Misha is still alive! It would take more ‘n a few imps to bring that beast down! Besides,” he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “Misha was always my favorite!”

  “Dwik, you friggin serious man? What is it with you and goats?!?” Gitch asked. He pinched the bridge of his nose together to relieve some of the murderous thoughts coursing through his brain. The sound of bells grew louder, which was not really helping matters.

  Dwik shrugged his shoulders. “A friend’s a friend. Now, we leavin’ this death trap of a room, or not?”

  Kraznik shook his head, but Gitch swore he saw the imp attempt to hide a grin. He didn’t have time to argue. The gnome was a big-boy, relatively speaking, and could make up his own mind.

  “Fine! Kraz, you take point. I think your eyes might be better suited to see in the dim light. I’ll take the rear. You see an imp, attack if you know you can win. Retreat like hell if you can’t.”

  With that, the trio left the room. They traveled in the opposite direction of the fleeing goat and her new entourage. Gitch saw Dwik murmur a silent prayer as he cast a quick look in their direction. Gitch prayed the beasts made it out too, but if he was being honest, he really only cared about Goldie and Alpha. Their flight ability had lapsed long ago, and they might be in some serious trouble if they went back up to the hole in the wall. There was nothing he could do for them now though, so he flew, doing his best to carry out a fool’s mission.

  Gitch saw a T-intersection coming up ahead. Kraznik banked left, leaving their sight completely. He popped back into view a split-second later, screaming with all of his impish might.

  “RUUUUUUUN!”

  Judging by the terrified expression on his face, Gitch did not think it a good time to inform the imp that Dwik was the only one running. Dwik turned right to follow Kraznik, with Gitch flying just above. He turned his head to get a good look at what followed, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The hall was filled with imps. Imps who, up until a few seconds ago, had been quietly lying in wait. They were now shrieking and ringing those evil little bells furiously.

  He saw the route ahead empty out into the great chamber. If they were able to reach it, they might just be able to high-tail it back to the ramp and escape out the way they came. That was a big if. Dwik’s short legs were tiring, and the gnome clearly was no longer running at full speed. All this adventuring had taken a toll on his friend, and he assumed his stamina level might be
nearing zero.

  Gitch didn’t have a choice. He slowed down, allowing the imps to pull within spitting distance, and cast wing blast.

  Congratulations! Wing Blast has increased to level 5!

  +4% range

  +4 damage

  Congratulations! Wing Blast has increased to level 6!

  +5% range

  +5 damage

  The imps were so tightly packed in that tiny hall, that every single one of was hit by the enchanted air. Most were simply thrown back, but a few started acting crazy. Three or four even started lashing out at those around them. Gitch wasn’t able to stop and enjoy the show. He flipped around, and took off after his friends. His distraction bought them a few more precious seconds. Gitch wished he could cast again, but the 5 second cooldown was too long.

  Gitch caught his first sight of the large cavern as he rejoined Dwik and Kraz. The hall itself was quite long, but not very wide. A large chandelier cast a dim light over dozens of razor-sharp stalagmites sticking up from the floor. The giant statue of Shikolm took up the center of the cavern, easily stretching 3 stories high.

  An elongated tongue was perpetually held out from her sinister mouth, dripping a red liquid that bubbled once it hit the ground. Her wings were spread-wide, and her eight hands each held a plethora of minute forest critters ready to be slaughtered. It was like a giant, terrifying gargoyle that wanted to devour his every ounce of joy. Suffice it to say, this was not a place Gitch would have wanted to stay for long.

  The imps from the hall were hot on their heels, and the two patrols Feckle had spotted earlier were flapping towards them in all haste. He could see they were being hemmed in from all sides. Gitch and Kraz might be able to fly off and escape, but neither would leave their gnome friend behind.

  “Over there!” Kraz shouted. He was pointing at a set of double doors across the cavern. Gitch had no idea what lay on the other side, but it was as good a spot as any to escape or possibly make their last stand. With a loud huff, Dwik tapped into the last dregs of his stamina and ran with all his might. Gitch, Kraz, and a small army of pissed-off imps followed close behind.

  Gitch raced ahead to pull open one of the large wooden doors. That act alone drained him of 150 stamina. Sweat poured off him, and he saw his stamina bar drop by over a third. Dwik dove through the entrance as Kraznik rushed to help Gitch pull the heavy door closed. They were able to latch the door into place just as the first of the imps pounded hard on the ancient wood.

  “That is not going to keep them out for long,” Kraznik said as he backed away from the door. The banging grew louder, and small cracks began to appear in the wood.

  It took a fair amount of determination, but Gitch finally looked away from the door to examine the room they now found themselves in. He was desperate to find weapons, an exit, some magical kill-all imp device... Anything to help them escape their present, crappy situation.

  Scores of crude looking chairs were pushed against four long tables. The tables were bare, but judging by the moldy pieces of bread that littered the floor, this was some sort of dining hall. There was a small door towards the back of the room, but otherwise, nothing.

  “Sooo... Kraz... ya gonna tell us where the exit might be?” Dwik wheezed. He still hadn’t risen from the floor.

  Gitch pointed to the back wall, but the imp shook his head. “No, that just leads to the privy. I’ve been in this room many times. I assure you; this door is the only way in or out.”

  “So... we’re screwed?” Dwik asked.

  Kraznik gave a sad sort of chuckle. “You really think I led us in here without a plan? You both should go hide out in the privy. I am going full-on Question 47 with my ‘kin’ here. They really should have emptied out my old chest. Their mistake. Now go, I’ll be right there.”

  “Yeeeeah buddy! See you in a bit,” Gitch whooped excitedly. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember anything about Question 47. He was just glad Kraznik had a plan.

  Gitch flew over to Dwik and pulled him up by the shoulder. Together, they crossed the room. He looked back at Kraz and saw the imp kneeling down and riffling through his bag. He hoped Kraz would hurry it along. That door was taking a beating, and Gitch didn’t think it would last much longer. He wished him luck and entered the medieval bathroom.

  A long bench with evenly spaced doody holes took up half the back wall, while a grated drain took up the other half. It reminded him of the troughs at those old-fashioned sports arenas. At least the imps didn’t have to stand on the filthy floor. They could just hover in the air and whiz away. Lucky jerks.

  There was nowhere to hide, except for maybe under the bench, but Gitch chose to ignore that option. He and Dwik huddled close together in a free corner. The sound of banging could still be heard, albeit, much subdued. Gitch kept a steady gaze toward the door. Any second, Kraz would burst through and tell them of the success from his ‘Question 47’ plan.

  The time ticked on, and the shouts grew louder. He was beginning to think maybe Kraznik had bailed on them and found another way out. Then, he heard the bomb go off.

  He didn’t feel it, perks for having wings, but Dwik was thrown violently to the floor. The door blew apart, shattering into hundreds of broken splinters. He could see flames licking the inside of the room, but they withdrew an instant later. That didn’t stop the roof from caving in over the bench as thousand-pound rocks filled half the room. Any one of those would have turned him into Gitch-Paste, but thankfully, none rolled in their general direction.

  After 10 terrifying seconds, everything ground to a halt. The ground stopped shaking, rocks stopped falling, Dwik stopped screaming... They had survived. Well, two out of three. Whatever ritual or process Kraz had performed had cost him his life. He didn’t remember anything about killing imps with a massive underground explosion in the testing. He must have answered Question 47 very differently than Kraznik. Regardless, his friend had given himself up as a sacrifice, and Gitch prayed it wasn’t in vain.

  The room was filled with dust and smoke, which had the added side effect of covering Gitch’s entire glowing body. As quietly as he could, he crawled to the doorway and poked his head out. The far door and most of the wall were just gone. The ground was littered with hands, legs, and a multitude of bloody things that used to be attached to the living. Some of these began to shimmer and disappear from view, but not all.

  What really caught his eye, however, were the nine imps combing through the wreckage in the room. They were slowly working their way to the back of the room, looking for loot, or survivors. It didn’t matter. They were coming.

  He silently withdrew from the doorway and crawled back over to Dwik. He had already come up with a plan, but one of them was reeeeeally not going to like it.

  “Dwik,” he whispered as softly as he could. “A bunch of imps are on heading this way. I have a plan, but I need to know if you can still swing that axe of yours.”

  “Ya can bet yer bum! What’s the target?” the gnome asked hopefully.

  “Follow me.” Gitch flew over to the back edge of the whizzing drain. Dwik frowned, but quietly followed. Only once they were both in place did Gitch reveal phase 2 of the plan.

  “Now, swing as hard as you can at the drain. A few hits ought to do the trick.”

  “But, won’t they hear us?” Dwik asked softly.

  “Don’t worry, it’s going to be just fine,” Gitch lied as he positioned himself directly behind the gnome. Dwik shook his head in disbelief but obediently raised the axe. As he readied himself to bring the weapon down, Gitch tapped him on the shoulder.

  “I’m really sorry about this, Dwik...”

  Dwik turned his head to see Gitch pointing a dirty finger directly at his face. Dwik opened his eyes wide, axe falling out of his hand. “YOU SON OF A-”

  “Dragon diarrhea!”

  Dwik fell to a stinking puddle on the floor, slowly gurgling down the rusty drain. Gitch felt like he was going to be sick. Scratch that, he barfed all over what was left of
Dwik. He wiped his face; thankful he was able to save his friend. Maybe Dwik would thank him later too. That, or hack him to little Gitch-bits. One or the other.

  Congratulations! Transmorph has increased to level 4!

  Cooldown reduced to 23 hours, 15 minutes

  +3% spell duration

  The axe clanged loudly on the floor, and Gitch knew for a fact the imps outside heard Dwik’s shout. He cast Trilit, readying himself for the fight to come. Almost as an afterthought, he bent down to pick up Dwik’s axe. Maybe handing it back over would score him some brownie points. That was when he saw it.

  Dwik’s corrosive new form had eaten away at the rusted metal, creating a decent-sized hole to the piping below, which was something the puny axe would never have been able to do. Without thinking, without giving himself time to talk himself out of it, he doused his light and dove straight down into the drain.

  It was a tight fit, but he was able to wriggle his way ever deeper. The smell was unbearable, but no matter how much he wanted to breath out his mouth, he kept his yapper closed. He swiped away the notification indicating his reduced charisma for the next however long. He knew he stunk, and he knew exactly what he was crawling through. He did not need a reminder. Not for the first time did he think this world a little too realistic.

  The piping widened after a yard or so, and he was able to stand with only a small hunch in his back. He had water and... other things... up to his waist. Still, he was glad he wouldn’t have to Shawshank his way out of the tunnel. He paused for a moment, waiting to see if he would be followed. There was a definite current and the sound of ‘water’ was plenty loud, but he could still make out a raspy voice from above.

  “Where in Zargath’s hell did they go? I know I saw one of those pink sissies and a fat dwarf run into the cafeteria.”

  “Dude, I effing told you not to say the ‘Z’ name around me! It creeps me out.”

  “Whatever. So where did they go?”

  “How would I know? Maybe they died with the traitor in that big explosion.”