Read Online Gameplay by Kevin J. Anderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kevin J. Anderson
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and the howling beast plunged back into it. The Slave of the Serpent was swallowed up by nothing, disappearing.
Panting, Tareah ran to where the veteran lay trembling on the ground. Two blue flames burned from the puncture wounds on his chest, blackening the leather of his armor as the venom coursed through his bloodstream. He grimaced and shuddered, gripping the ancient sword.
He crawled forward, but Tareah stopped him. His eyes were glassy and unseeing. She stroked his cheek, muttering nonsense to him. Her magic could do nothing to stop the burning poison, to bring him back from death’s stranglehold.
Tarne said nothing intelligible, which also confused her: all the legends had led her to expect dying characters to make a final dramatic speech before death.
The veteran stared at the glow of sunlight in the eastern sky rising up toward dawn, as the aurora overhead dimmed. His gray eyes did not close. The fires inside him burned out in a burst of dark energy, and he crumpled to ashes within his ancient and damaged vest of armor.
“Let the Game go on forever, and may your score always increase,” Tareah whispered for him, the accepted farewell for a trusted companion.
Tareah stood up, blinking her eyes. Old Siya hung by the doorway of the main building, then moved mechanically toward the fallen fighter. An expression of complete horror hung on her face. Tareah wondered how long she had been standing there, attracted by the noise of the fight.
Tareah remembered the tears on the fighter’s face, the fear in his eyes; she remembered how he had arrived in armor, waiting. Tarne had known ahead of time. He had deceived the demon into thinking it had slain Delrael. He had known this battle would kill him! And yet he had come anyway.
Tareah realized that she was now completely alone. She had no one to help her fight against whatever else Scartaris would send against them.
The dead fighter’s ashes left a black stain on the ground.
***
5. Journeyman
“Rule #3: Questing characters may join with any other characters they encounter. Note, though, that the alignment of such newfound companions might not be clear. All characters have their own quests, their own preferred outcome to an adventure.”
— The Book of Rules
Journeyman clapped his clay hands together and stretched his face in a grin. “Well, are we off to see the Wizard?”
Bryl looked at the perplexed expressions on the faces of Vailret and Delrael, relieved to see their skepticism. It was a nice switch, since they usually trusted everything without a thought of caution. Bryl shook his head and scratched at his thinning gray beard. After seeing some of the things Delrael did on impulse, Bryl was surprised the fighter had lived as long as he had.
“Wizard?” Delrael said, “We’re going to find Scartaris, not just some magic user.”
“Merely a figure of speech.” Journeyman strode off into the forest terrain ahead of Delrael and Vailret. Bryl wrung some water out of his blue cloak, sighed, and followed them. The forest grew denser, but the quest-path marking their way shone plain on the ground. The sounds of the Barrier River faded, leaving them in the forest by themselves.
“Why do you always say such strange things, Journeyman?” Vailret asked.
“I don’t know nothin’. I just work here.” the golem said.
“Yeah, like that.”
“Well, I was created by the Rulewoman Melanie, so I have some … connection with the Outside. I can see some of the things she sees, know some of the phrases she knows.”
Bryl scowled in exasperation at Vailret and Delrael. They acted as if they believed what the golem said, just on the basis of his own word. When Scartaris was out to destroy the world, how could they trust anything ? How could great questers be so naive? If the Outsiders wanted to eliminate their own world, who could trust any other character? Bryl huffed and came up close behind them, looking sidelong at the golem but speaking to
Panting, Tareah ran to where the veteran lay trembling on the ground. Two blue flames burned from the puncture wounds on his chest, blackening the leather of his armor as the venom coursed through his bloodstream. He grimaced and shuddered, gripping the ancient sword.
He crawled forward, but Tareah stopped him. His eyes were glassy and unseeing. She stroked his cheek, muttering nonsense to him. Her magic could do nothing to stop the burning poison, to bring him back from death’s stranglehold.
Tarne said nothing intelligible, which also confused her: all the legends had led her to expect dying characters to make a final dramatic speech before death.
The veteran stared at the glow of sunlight in the eastern sky rising up toward dawn, as the aurora overhead dimmed. His gray eyes did not close. The fires inside him burned out in a burst of dark energy, and he crumpled to ashes within his ancient and damaged vest of armor.
“Let the Game go on forever, and may your score always increase,” Tareah whispered for him, the accepted farewell for a trusted companion.
Tareah stood up, blinking her eyes. Old Siya hung by the doorway of the main building, then moved mechanically toward the fallen fighter. An expression of complete horror hung on her face. Tareah wondered how long she had been standing there, attracted by the noise of the fight.
Tareah remembered the tears on the fighter’s face, the fear in his eyes; she remembered how he had arrived in armor, waiting. Tarne had known ahead of time. He had deceived the demon into thinking it had slain Delrael. He had known this battle would kill him! And yet he had come anyway.
Tareah realized that she was now completely alone. She had no one to help her fight against whatever else Scartaris would send against them.
The dead fighter’s ashes left a black stain on the ground.
***
5. Journeyman
“Rule #3: Questing characters may join with any other characters they encounter. Note, though, that the alignment of such newfound companions might not be clear. All characters have their own quests, their own preferred outcome to an adventure.”
— The Book of Rules
Journeyman clapped his clay hands together and stretched his face in a grin. “Well, are we off to see the Wizard?”
Bryl looked at the perplexed expressions on the faces of Vailret and Delrael, relieved to see their skepticism. It was a nice switch, since they usually trusted everything without a thought of caution. Bryl shook his head and scratched at his thinning gray beard. After seeing some of the things Delrael did on impulse, Bryl was surprised the fighter had lived as long as he had.
“Wizard?” Delrael said, “We’re going to find Scartaris, not just some magic user.”
“Merely a figure of speech.” Journeyman strode off into the forest terrain ahead of Delrael and Vailret. Bryl wrung some water out of his blue cloak, sighed, and followed them. The forest grew denser, but the quest-path marking their way shone plain on the ground. The sounds of the Barrier River faded, leaving them in the forest by themselves.
“Why do you always say such strange things, Journeyman?” Vailret asked.
“I don’t know nothin’. I just work here.” the golem said.
“Yeah, like that.”
“Well, I was created by the Rulewoman Melanie, so I have some … connection with the Outside. I can see some of the things she sees, know some of the phrases she knows.”
Bryl scowled in exasperation at Vailret and Delrael. They acted as if they believed what the golem said, just on the basis of his own word. When Scartaris was out to destroy the world, how could they trust anything ? How could great questers be so naive? If the Outsiders wanted to eliminate their own world, who could trust any other character? Bryl huffed and came up close behind them, looking sidelong at the golem but speaking to
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