Rebirth: Might, Magic, Mayhem
Prelude
This was it; the final stand of humanity.
The demon armies of Driblark could be seen gathering several kilometers from the settlement. An army unmeasurable in size - from the distance one would only see a growth of darkness and fire, writhing and increasing in size.
If the settlement, which the survivors had named "Final Refuge", were to be looked at from above; only a small island of light surrounded by an ocean of darkness and flame would be seen. The smell of death and decay was on the wind, a smell so terrible that any weaker individual would be retching off to the side.
There were no weak individuals left though, they all had died by now.
The worst part were the screams; the banshees out in the distance outclassed every other demon in terms of sound. Multiple shrill screams could be heard over the distance, masking the growls, the moans, the shrieks and the roars of the demons in the hoard.
Towards the west the sky was bathed in a splendor of orange and yellow as the sunset began its final descent before the night. The sky was bathed in a splendor of colors, a beauty so bold that it could be declared Queen of all Sunsets; it was almost as if the sky was bidding a final farewell to humanity. The beautiful sunset was a stark contrast against the writhing mass of flames, flesh, and living bones across the fields. Very soon the bloodbath would begin.
About a year ago when the popular VRMMO game --Might, Magic, Mayhem-- had a global server crash which kicked everyone from the game, the portals opened. A moment after these portals opened the hellish armies of Driblark invaded our world spreading death and destruction.
The villainous forces of the popular full-immersion virtual reality game --Might, Magic, Mayhem-- had entered our world, and began a slaughter that no amount of modern weaponry could stop.
The day the portals opened became known as Invasion Day. At the same time as the opening of the portals; almost as if it was a gift from heaven; those who had played --Might, Magic, Mayhem-- received the abilities and items from the game that they had worked for in-game. Those who received their powers and items from the game became known as Users. They then used these abilities and items to oppose this otherworldly invasion. However if they couldn't stop the demon tide in the game, they were destined to fail in reality. Those that had played -- Might, Magic, Mayhem-- and inherited their abilities were known as Users.
The Users stood on top of the walls, looking out towards the army that was gathering. Individuals who wielded strength, and speed beyond that of a normal human; individuals who had access to magic and items they had obtained in-game. None of the Users protecting this final bastion of humanity were weak, they had survived over the past year through their skills and cunning to protect their loved ones and make a new home here, a home they knew wouldn't last.
They were the last Users, according to their knowledge, numbering 50 in total and were the strongest humanity had to offer. Attempts had been made to find more survivors, and they had been in contact with other shelters but all those shelters had recently gone dark. Every effort, both technologically and magically wouldn't get through, so it was assumed they were dead. Now every team of Users which would go out looking for more survivors would only meet advance scout teams of the demon hoard, so it was mutually agreed upon that no more teams would be sent out to search. By this point, it had been several months since the last survivor had entered.
The survivors of the Invasion Day had built a shelter here the day after The Invasion, in the aftermath of the devastation left by Driblarks forces. One of the players had a mythical grade artifact that would create a fortress the size of a small town thus giving birth to the Last Refuge. They didn't have to worry about crushing the previous city, as it had already been leveled in the battle that took place during Invasion Day.
The fortress was made up of an inner keep which looked like an old medieval European style castle with a large 30 meter tall and 10 meters thick wall 2 kilometers out. In-between the castle and wall were a series of small stone huts, gardens, and fields. Most importantly the defensive measures were otherworldly to say the least. A mythical grade transparent field surrounded the Last Refuge, with multiple magic cannons on the wall, all powered by legendary magic cores. Originally this was going to be used in game as a guilds personal city, now it served as a safe haven for the survivors.
The fortress was made to last over a century and be completely self-sustainable. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to last more than a year due to the impending battle.
...
A tall, broad shouldered man stood upon the west-side wall. His short black hair was messy, and he wore regal golden armor that covered a muscular build. Across his back sheathed in a silky blue and red sheath was a sword hilt inlayed with fiery gems in its hilt, with two small dragon heads cross-woven to make the guard. This was the leader of the "Final Refuge", Jason Ultman.
Jason looked down from the wall, back towards the inner keep. A multitude of children, women, and men had gathered; the last of the survivors known as non-users: the ones without powers, or skills.
There at the center of the keep the non-users were gathered and were being given weapons and armor above the rare grade. Even though steel and iron would work against a small number of demons, it wouldn't work against most of them. For this reason, the majority of guns and modern weaponry wouldn't work against these creatures. Luckily there were several users who specialized in blacksmithing and enchanting to make weapons that could bite through the thick hide of the majority of demons.
He saw a little boy who was nine years old put on a helmet that had been sized for an adult head. The boys helmet ended up covering his face and tipping him over backwards. With a mighty crash he fell on his rear end, with the helmet falling off his head and rolling away. A blacksmith came and picked up the helmet, and gave the boy a dagger. This dagger looked like a short sword in this boys hands.
The old-man next to Jason, noticed him looking back towards the keep and spoke, "They need to at least be ready for battle if we fall."
Jason glanced towards the man named Steven, a tall slim man, armored in blueish gray leather with a dark black bow in his hands and a short thin dagger by his side.. He was in his late 40's – early 50's, and Jason held him in high regards as this man was well known for his fighting skills and his jovial stories that he would tell around the campfire.
A rouge among rouges, the master assassin. Stevin's enemies wouldn't know how they died, they would just blink and awake in the afterlife. Due to his battle prowess and his amiability towards others, he was the best fit to be Jason's second in command, and good friend.
"If we fall, they won't last a second. " Jason said emotionlessly.
Steven glanced back towards him sighed and replied "This is all that's left of humanity. Better to die fighting than ending up as livestock for the demons."
"You're being overly cautious," Jason said. "You know I won't let anything happen to them, not as long as I'm still standing." Jason calmly turned towards the demon horde once more, and stared out silently.
Steven laughed and slapped him on the back, "Ha! With you on our side here, the ones who should be quaking in their boots are the demons over there! Its only thanks to you that we've survived this long."
After a moment of silence, Steven asked, "Have you heard of the Legend of Cumorahs Hill?" Without waiting for Jason's response, he continued. "They say that in the past, an entire Native American civilization made their last stand here before they were annihilated by their enemies. Just like us, even their women and children had to fight to the last man."
Jason faked a laugh, "This truly is a cursed hill then. I've never heard of that legend before, when was this?"
Steven smiled, "This was long ago. Supposedly long before Columbus crossed the sea. I don't know if there's any truth behind this story, I find it interesting nonetheless. Only one person survived."
"One person?" Jason muttered emotionlessly.
"Yes, he fought bravely but ended fainting due to blood loss. He woke up a day later after the armies had destroyed his people. I can only imagine what its like being the last of your people."
Jason didn't reply. He didn't care to much about the past, because at this point none of it mattered to him.
Thousands of years of human history was all going to end within a couple of days. Jason knew he was strong, but fighting a never ending horde was beyond his abilities. That wasn't important to him though, none of this was. He was only fighting and living so that others could live on, because for him, his life ended the day of The Invasion when his wife and children were slaughtered by the blood orcs.
All he wanted was to return to his wife Beth and hold his 3 kids in his arms once again. The only reason he hadn't killed himself to end his sorrows was because he knew his wife would be ashamed of him if he didn't give his all to protect the people that were left.
Four years ago when the game -- Might, Magic, Mayhem -- was released; the mysterious developers behind the game had announced that this was more than a game, and that failure to protect the realm would result in "Game Over" for humanity. Everyone laughed this off as a marketing ploy and just enjoyed themselves in the first ever fully immersive game that had come on the market. It instantly made billions!
With the fan base immediately in the millions at launch, it quickly rose to dominance in the market worldwide with its hardware made available for $99. It was almost as if the company were giving the headsets away for free! All the console needed was a direct connection into a power outlet, and the headset connected to the server via the companies' private satellites.
The player base increased by the millions on a day to day basis, and with business investing heavily in --Might, Magic, Mayhem-- the game became part of daily life for the world. After bank accounts could be attached to the game and in game currency could be exchanged for real world money, MMM gold became the new bitcoin.
When the game crashed and the portals had opened one year ago, Jason had been at the local pizza deli picking up some food for his family that night. He had arrived home to see blood orcs setting fire to his neighborhood and had instinctively went into game mode and slaughtered the squad.
He had been to late to save his family though, as his home was already nothing but ash.
The strength he had to decimate armies with a single spell and tear apart demon generals with his bare hands was useless to him as his family had already passed on.
As he reminisced about the past on top of the stone wall, Twilight fell. Only a few rays of sunlight shined from the west. At this moment, the Demon horde roared as one, and began rushing towards the Final Refuge.
Jason enhanced his voice magically and roared "Prepare for Battle!"
He pulled out his artifact grade longsword, F'thanir and raised it to the skies. He activated the swords ultimate skill, Celestial Lightning with a shout and with a giant crash, golden colored lightning came crashing out of the night sky onto the horde surrounding them.
Screams and cries of anguish came from all directions as countless demons writhed in pain, many of them bursting into flames as they were sent back to hell, leaving nothing but their demon essence.
"What a lovely sight. That has to be at least a third of them right? Pickle my tenders, that's got to be at least a couple million." Remarked Steven whistling in astonishment.
Jason smirked, "At least? I'd say a little closer to five million! I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing demons roasted by Celestial Lightning." Replied Jason, bringing his sword into a ready stance; preparing to charge into the endless horde that was already filling the gaps made by Jason's Holy Lightning.
"I will definitely miss seeing that stunning lightning attack of yours." Said Steven.
Jason paused, and turned inquisitively towards Steven, asking "What do you me-" when a knife slid across his throat. Choking on his own blood, Jason fell to his knees while clutching his slit throat, his eyes looking up at Steven who held a bloodied knife in his hands.
Steven kicked Jason in the chest pushing him onto his back, "Turd nuggets! That was supposed to cut your head off."
Jason was struggling to keep his blood in his body, casting heal on himself as many times as his essence would allow. Steven squinted his eyes at Jason's futile attempts to heal himself, "Don't bother with that, I'm sure you can already feel the demon poison coursing through your veins by now. You know there's no way to heal while the poison is there."
Steven sighed as he crouched down next to Jason, and swept up some of Jason's blood off the ground with his finger. "I made a deal with Driblark," said Steven "Immortality as a Demon General if we killed you."
Steven laughed as he slid the finger covered in blood into his mouth. "Mmm" He sighed. "Much better than I thought it would have been. You should thank me, I'm reuniting you with your loved ones."
"Humanity has prospered long enough, it's time for demons to take their proper place and consume this world!" Steven roared with laughter once more as he stood up, his eyes glowing red. His skin grew pale, and his canines elongated.
Jason could feel his veins on fire as the poison spread from the cut in his throat through his veins. His hands, wet with his own blood slowly slid off his neck, as blood loss and the poison began to take its effect.
He turned his head towards the inner keep one last time, and saw Stevens team of six morph into demons and begin to slaughter the non-users in the center. Screams assaulted his ears, and blood filled his vision as he gave into the welcoming embrace of death.