Viridian Gate Online #1-3 by J. A. Hunter

Author:J. A. Hunter [Hunter, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow Alley Press
Published: 2018-05-05T06:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR: Thief in the Night

We ported to a little one-horse, Wode town called Kaldalen, about two hours south of Rowanheath. A tiny place of maybe three hundred residents with dirt streets, wooden houses, and thatched roofs, all surrounded by grassy plains, a spattering of pine trees, and domineering mountains cutting across the darkened skyline to the north. An idyllic place, taken straight off a Swedish travel brochure.

We’d wanted to port directly into Rowanheath, but unfortunately that option was no longer on the table. Since all members of the Crimson Alliance were now classified as Imperial enemies, we couldn’t directly teleport into any city owned by an Imperial faction. A nasty fact we’d learned from one of the magical transport specialists Abby had managed to poach for our cause. It was severely inconvenient, but it was also something of a relief, since that meant none of Osmark’s goons could just appear inside Yunnam and unleash havoc wholesale.

We weren’t completely out of luck though.

Any non-faction-controlled city, regardless of “allegiance,” was fair game for porting and trading, and there were loads and loads of those littering Eldgard’s countryside. In terms of defense, I’d even say we had an advantage over the empire, since there were a comparatively small number of cities in the Storme Marshes, and none of them were close to Yunnam. If the Imperials wanted to sack our town, they’d have to trek all the way through the Marshes with their force; I almost laughed at the thought of someone trying to push a siege tower through the dense forests and murky bogs.

The trek up the North Road took us twice as long as it should have since I still had the crippling pain from Death’s Sting to deal with. I had to stop, rest, and eat every mile or so, otherwise my legs would simply give out and refuse to work. I’d be limping along okay one minute, only to find myself facedown on the gritty road the next. On the plus side, by the time we did finally trudge up to the gates of the Rowanheath, Death’s Sting had worn off, taking the godawful pain with it. I still sported the debuffs from Death’s Curse for another four hours, but so long as I could walk and fight, I considered it a win.

Rowanheath’s fortified defensive wall—an enormous thing, which formed a giant horseshoe across the front of the city proper—gave me a small pause though. For a long beat, I just stood there staring up at the giant Keep looming high above the city, framed in by a series of treacherous mountain peaks. The place was a hulking monstrosity: all hard lines, gray stone, high walls, and domineering circular turrets carved directly into the mountain face itself. It wasn’t a place designed for beauty, it was a place designed for war. Designed to repel enemies and withstand a prolonged siege.

By sunset tomorrow, I was going to try and storm it. The cold flutter of butterfly wings in my belly sent shivers along my arms.

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