The Legend of William Oh

“So what are you in for?” Void asked, leaning up against the wall and staring at the prisoner in the cell across from him. The emaciated prisoner had disheveled brown hair and a wild look in his blue eyes. He was relatively tall, maybe a hair over six foot, with the frame of a man who’d eaten well in his youth, only for his luck to turn sour.

A bit like the two of us. Only two of our group left. Just me and Arms.

That was a good thing, because after this debacle was over, they’d either be dead or their no-longer-functional team would be broken up and the two of them would most likely receive a promotion and a new command, where they would never have to see each other again, which worked fine for both of them.

That was about the best Void could hope for under the circumstances.

The emaciated fellow in the opposite cell grunted and turned away, continuing to draw his mad scratches across the wall.

Thankfully his neighbor had managed to pry a loose peg out of the bedframe and used it to scratch a detailed spiral on the wall. Thankful because if the madman had been forced to get any more creative with his art supplies, it would’ve been shit on the wall rather than scratches.

“Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Whether or not I’m imagining you.” the man said, going back to the outside of the spiral and adding a landscape on the outside, stick trees and animals and figures that fell deeper and deeper into the spiral, forming a loop that was so tight that the details compressed into nothing as they approached the center.

“Why would you be imagining me?”

“I’ve been trapped in a lightless box for…” The man paused, glancing around them. “A long time.” He turned around and looked at Void. “And I have a great imagination. I’ve been seeing and talking to things for days…or decades…or thousands of years. Not sure.”

After he spoke, the man glanced over to the side, cocking his head as though he was listening to someone speak. “Yeah, I’ll ask.”

“What Floor are we on? What Stronghold?” He asked, turning back to Void.

“Fifth Floor. The city of Akul.”

The emaciated fellow chuckled at that.

“City, huh? I guess decades. Assuming you’re real.”

“Yes, assuming that,” Void said with a chuckle. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“Well, you ever get volun-told for a job by your boss and it goes sideways in the most colossal way?”

“That’s pretty much my life,” Void said, fluffing the pillow of his prison cell.

“Well, my boss says –“ He adopted a high pitched, mocking voice “‘go into The Tower, grab some Sacrifices on an easy floor for Testing.’ Next thing you know, it’s The Cataclysm. The Great Churning, The Big Suck. Upheaval. Whatever folks call it nowadays.”

Void cocked his head.

Upheaval rang a bell. It sounded like the stuff the church of Granesh preached about. Void hadn’t attended a sermon since he could sit on his momma’s knee.

“What’s your name?” Void asked, his curiousity piqued.

“I’unno.” The man said with a shrug. “I’ve always like Reese, though. You can call me Reese.”

“Okay, Reese, how old are you?” Void asked, working on a hunch. With the right build, a person could get pretty old, and Reese was definitely sounding age-cracked.

“I’m not sure…” Reese said, glancing around the room. “I think I’m dead and in hell, and my ‘previous life’ is just a hallucination I made up to grant myself a little comfort as infinite suffering wears away my mind.”

“You think this is hell?” Void asked. That’s an archaic way of referring to the Abyss. I think I’ve only ever seen it in plays and melodramas.

“What else would you call a place that subjects you to your worst nightmares over and over again, each iteration slightly worse than the last, until you’re this close to breaking forever, then a thin ray of hope wipes away all the pain and you spend a lifetime or two as a farmer falling in love, raising kids…just long enough to forget, and then BAM, back to the suck for you, and you remember EVERYTHING, and you know it’s all gonna happen again, and again, and again…”

The emaciated man lowered himself to the floor, shuddering as he drew his knees up to his chest.

“And again, and again…” He whispered between shuddered breaths.

Void’s eyebrows rose.

Well, this guy is Cracked. Sometimes with enough age, the mind just…stopped working, no matter how healthy the body was. Nothing an Ability or his stats could do about it. The brain was still working exactly as intended. The mind however…

Void left his neighbor to his blubbering and turned his attention to the guard marching into their block, a young man with black hair, crooked teeth and a familiar gait.

Vacation’s over, I guess, Void thought with a sigh as he stood, watching as the Tangled reached into its pocket and removed a bloodstained key.

It wouldn’t be long now. The Tangled had infiltrated nearly every facet of the city’s beaurocracy, and Baron Akul was already sniffing around for the rot that had permeated it.

Soon, very soon, the Baron would catch on.

Which was why they were letting him out. They would be moving onto the next phase. The final phase.

Rather than turn towards Void and open his cell, the Tangled opened the cracked Climber’s door, the enchantments keeping Reese’s Abilities suppressed flickering off as the lock clicked open.

“Come on, you’ve got an appointment with my Lord.” The Tangled said, hauling Reese out of his cell before he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Umm…” Reese backed away from the guard as he disrobed, his gaze searching for an exit.

The Tangled looked somewhat nauseous for a moment before a copy began climbing out of his chest, depositing itself onto the floor.

The new Tangled gasped before his body began to shift, bones lengthening.

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A moment later, an exact copy of Reese huddled in the corner of the cell, while the Tangled put his shirt back on and grabbed Reese by the elbow, guiding him away.

“Hey, what about me!?” Void demanded.

The Tangled looked over at him with passive disinterest.

“Your time has not yet come.” He nodded toward the Reese Lookalike. “My copy will give you the signal. Until then do not reveal that the target has been taken.”

Obviously.

Void waved him off and slumped back down onto his cot.

I guess my vacation continues. The kind of vacation where they pull out fingernails instead of serving drinks. Fantastic.

On the other side of the city, Will and his Party were making the final preparations for the auction.

With a golden ticket and a rather large allowance from the Baron to spend on the items, Will’s entire Party was dressed in their finest apparel and ready to score some once-in-a-lifetime- Sacrifices and Relics.

Will had learned his lesson about attending parties without warning his Party about potential sudden outbreaks of violence.

He’d warned them of his suspicions and was smuggling in his relics, weapons, and those of everyone in his party whose armaments he could fit in his dimensional storage.

It was really only his, Travis’s and Masons.

Mason didn’t have much in the way of weapons, save for a wand he’d gotten to boost his damage output, Travis’s weapons were all small, and Will’s was remarkably thin.

Rings and amulets barely took up any space at all, so everyone’s jewelry was in the Phantom Hand.

Reggie, Alicia and Loth’s equipment were under the building, along with all the bulky Relics, like pants, torsos, helms and shoes, burrowed by Loth’s insects in advance of the date of the auction.

If nothing wound up happening and they attended a simple auction, then Will would be just as happy to walk away without issue.

But if what his paranoia was telling him was about to happen…happened…

Then William Oh was going to show up in full Kit and make some changes to The Plan.

And maybe profit off of it a little.

They arrived at the auction just as the unnatural sun was beginning to sink lower on the horizon, making the shadows of the surrounding buildings cut through the streets, creating an almost striped look on the cobblestones.

It’ll be nighttime soon, Will thought as their Party was ushered inside, getting one last look of the rapidly reddening ball of eye-searing light.

He hadn’t been to the church of Holdna for the follow-up for his damaged eye like he’d promised. He’d been too busy making plans, calling in favors and paying off his debts with the local criminal element.

Squaring everything away for this one opportunity.

Will closed his right eye and checked his vision again. Even without a healing from a more powerful priest, his left eye had rapidly improved in a single week.

Before his left eye could only make out light and dark, but after a week it was able to discern color and rough shapes as the damage sorted itself out, the cloudiness of the pupil gradually clearing.

I should probably get that healing just to have a paper trail that ‘proves’ I can’t regenerate.

Will itched his stump, where a stubby lump was sticking out, vaguely able to wiggle as the wrist reformed its muscle connections. The gauntlet strapped around it prevented him from itching it directly, which was maddening.

They stood outside the massive white stone building, pillars that must’ve weighed more than entire villages looming dozens of feet above their heads. Men and women of high society flowed in from the street, their collars popped out like the Dragon of Akul.

Loth caught his attention, and brought his gaze back down to her.

“What do you want to happen?” Loth asked.

The best number one a man could ask for.

“I want to get Mason and Travis some good Sacrifices. I want a new Relic for close combat for myself. Something exceptional that expands my options. And if a war breaks out among the Lords, I want us to smash and grab.”

Loth nodded and turned to June.

“I’ll handle bidding. I want you to position us somewhere far enough from the VIP boxes to get a wall of meat between ourselves and the Lords. Doesn’t matter to me if it’s not a ‘prestigious’ location. Once we’re there, I’ll trust you to handle the unexpected.”

“Done,” June nodded.

Once they were inside, they found themselves looking out over an amphitheater with round tables lining each staggered tier of elevation.

Up at the very top was a box with a rug with the Baron’s colors slapped across it.

“Why’s there a rug on the Baron’s private box?” Will whispered to Loth as June herded them toward a front corner of the room, near the bottom of the tiers. Right where it would be easy to escape if something went wrong.

“It’s a tapestry,” Loth said.

“Wazzat?” Will whispered back.

“a…wall-rug.” Loth said with a shrug.

Huh. Must be a rich person thing.

“Alicia, you sit here, June said, pointing at the seat on the table that pointed her facing backwards, towards the rest of the amphitheater, and specifically the VIP box.

“IF the VIP box starts looking tense, kick me under the table - gently.” June hastily clarified.

“Okay.” Alicia whispered.

“Reggie, have toft up on Loth and Mason.”

“Yep.” Reggie said with a nod.

“Mason, Travis, I want you two to sit next to Loth and watch for things that catch your interest and signal Loth if you’re interested in bidding.”

Mason and Travis nodded.

“Mason, I want you to be prepared to blast a hole through that wall over there on my signal,” She said, leading Mason’s gaze with her eyes.

Mason nodded.

Loth whispered in June’s ear.

“Your gear is under that rearing lion on the carpet,” She continued without missing a beat.

“Travis, if shit goes down, I’ll signal you to-“

“Excuse me, sir.” A dignified voice halted their scheming. Will frowned, glancing up at a waiter, holding a napkin-wrapped arm across his stomach and making a graceful bow.

“Eh?” Will grunted.

“I’m afraid sir is not in his assigned seat.”

Will frowned, glancing at Loth, then back up to the well-dressed servant.

“There’s no assigned seating. We checked.” Will said.

“There’s no assigned seating for the public, that is true. But as the winner of the tournament, your presence has been requested in the VIP box.” He pointed at the exact center of where Will expected the chaos to erupt from.

Godsdamnit, Will blew out a breath. He couldn’t exactly say no, though.

“Right away,” Will said, standing. “Just give me a moment to give my second-in-command bidding instructions,” Will motioned to Loth.

“The kobold?” The servant said in surprise, eyebrow cocked for an instant before he masked his reaction behind a façade of professionalism. “…Of course.”

Will bent down and whispered in Loth’s ear.

“I’m giving everyone their Relics now. Check under your seats when the time comes.”

Loth nodded. “I’ll make sure to keep my eyes open for it.”

Will released the Relics along with a tiny amount of sticky adhesive, securing them to the underside of their chairs along with Mason’s wand. Once his Dimensional storage was empty of everything save his and Travis’s weapon, Will turned and followed the servant back up to the VIP box, which was seperated from the rest of the auction house by an exclusive hallway guarded by several armored warriors.

One of the intimidating walls of muscle was familiar.

“Hey Frank.” Will said to Frank the Tank, who nodded from his guard post as Will walked by.

“Good job, kid.” Frank said, offering Will a fist as he walked by.

Will hit the meaty fist with his own as he walked by, the interaction causing the other guard and servant to frown.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

The servant shook off his confusion and guided Will down the private hall to the only door, a private booth with a single oversized table, where half a dozen unique-looking men and women turned to study the intrusion.

“Esteemed Lords of The Tower, May I present William Oh,” the servant said, bowing his head before backing out of the room, the wall-rugs parting behind him to seal Will inside.

Will scanned the room, alighting on a few people he knew: The Baron, his son and grandson, who looked a little pale, and Mark Wyrd.

And beside Mark Wyrd, someone who looked like an older brother, with more severe features and an unkind expression.

Frederick Wyrd. Lord of the Stronghold on the seventh Floor. The person who killed the thousands of residents of Oilton. Who bought Brianna and turned her into a Tangled.

Will couldn’t look at him too long or risk his neutral expression slipping.

Frederick gave a hungry look as Will’s gaze slid past him, landing on the gilded cloth worn by the bishop of Granesh in attendance.

The bishop gave Will a piercing gaze.

Oh great. About half the people in the room wanted him dead. The other half didn’t care.

The other Lords in the room appeared to be a regular swordsman, a marksman with eyes much like Alicias, a woman with dark hair and light skin whose chair seemed to be rotting away underneath her.

The rotwitch.

And a ghoulish looking undead with a bit of fragrant incense hanging around his neck to cover the smell of decay.

Ghoul.

Will never thought he’d meet ANY of these people, let alone all of them at once.

“Come on in, sit next to me,” Rotwitch said, motioning for him to sit in one of the empty seats beside her. “I’ve got a good feeling I’ll be seeing you again on the thirteenth Floor.”

Out of the Rotwitch’s line of sight, the man with the glowing eyes shook his head at Will.

“Nonsense, the boy has an assigned seat with some people his own age.” Baron Akul said, sliding out a seat between Nephir Akul and Mark Wyrd, motioning for Will to sit.

Well, it’s not the WORSTplace they could’ve put me.