Play of Shadows

4.08: Death of a Hero, pt. II

Heaven and earth turned. The monster's screech ruptured the air and filled the players' ears with static, the pandemonium around them a muted play of macabre shadows. Whips made of broken bones snapped through the dirt to snag at limbs and flesh. Barton's intent guided the witch, and Barton intended to tear the players apart and rebuild them in her own design.

K set Ann to her feet, careful to keep her steady even as he was already twisting away to stand in front of her. The spear he wielded rose to parry the grasping reach of a clawed hand large enough to flatten them both in its grip. Bone rang against steel. The ground sunk under K as he braced against the monster's terrible might.

The impasse lasted only a moment. The spear cleaved upward in a gleaming arc, shattering the skeletal hand. The witch shrilled in agony but did not withdraw, wielding the crooked, splintered stump of its maimed arm like a bludgeon.

K gave ground under the onslaught. Shielded behind him, Ann moved with the man as if she were his shadow. A memory rose in her mind, unbidden – a glittering ballroom, a gentleman in an obsidian mask. Their jubilant waltz in Castle Lona seemed like a prelude to this precise moment. All actions, falling into a predetermined gameplay.

Ann found that she much preferred the current playing field. The Fairy Court made of men and women that burned like wax would haunt her nightmares, if she ever got the chance to close her eyes in sleep at all.

The other players were faring no better. Trapped in a skirmish between gods, they did their best to assist the NPCs that guarded them, even if just by staying out of their way. The battlefield was a patchwork of silver threads and flashing scythes. The black miasma that seeped from the Dullahan's decapitated body ate through bone, but it also left Mr. Byrne looking emptier and emptier, like a deflating balloon. The occasional gunshot and crackle of splintered bones rang like fireworks in the melee.

"They are not meant for defensive play," a voice said.

Ann startled, and nearly trod over the unexpected addition to their party.

"Do excuse me," Svetlan said, before unceremoniously hooking his very sharp claws into Ann's calf to begin a hurried ascent up her side.

Ann stifled a yelp. She caught the furry menace halfway up her back and brought it into her arms instead, holding it like a child might a stuffed toy.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, sparing the avatar a dark glare before immediately turning her eyes back to the field.

The badger wiggled in Ann' arms, as if to test her grip. "Good. Hold on, if you would."

Svetlan rummaged through his fur next. Ann sent the man another wary glance, in time to see him produce a checkered orb. It looked like a Rubix cube, densely packed with hundreds of monochrome shapes. It splintered apart under the sure press of tiny claws. A glowing circle of ones and zeroes spun around the little planet held between the badger's paws.

"What's that?" Ann asked.

"Code-breaker," Svetlan murmured. The orb turned over and over, the numbers dancing and changing. "Keep talking."

"What?" Ann grunted, forced to dodge as K took a hasty turn and the spear sailed over her head in a backward swing, to shatter a tentacle sneaking in from the side.

"Talk. It helps me work," the man said.

Ann was dubious, but too out of breath to waste her energy on arguing. "You are here so that we can protect you while you work," she guessed.

"Rather brazen use of the plural pronoun, but a correct sentiment overall," Svetlan commented.

Ann was tempted to drop the man. Instead, she kept the busy badger as steady as possible as the witch forced them through soft, muddy ground pockmarked by struggle.