Camelot Resurgent

by Galen Wolf

  ‘Okay!’ Little John yells and vaults up on his quarterstaff. Robin Hood fades into stealth until he’s just a shadowy figure.

  I still can’t see any dragon but behind me Tye grunts and with two hands outstretched fires a Fireball in the general direction of where the dragon must be. The ball of fire explodes in gouts of flame and intense heat that sends me reeling. It hit something and I fleetingly see the outline of a huge reptile. It’s there all right. I roar my battle cry, ‘For my God and King!’ and I’m at it.

  Bernard rushes forward, the runes on his sword glinting. I can’t see what the hell I’m hitting but my shield is up to my face and I slash down.

 

  What? With all the specials I’ve got on my sword and I can’t even hit the damn thing?

  To my left, Little John is a whirlwind smashing his quarterstaff against the invisible bulk of the dragon. Then I see huge gashes appear in his face and torso and he falls back. There is a silvery glow — either Tuck or Fitheach must have healed him up — and then Little John’s back into the fight.

  I jab and get the same message. I can’t get through its damage reduction. As my sword has star-silver on it, that beats silver damage reduction, and it’s got fire and cold and holy, so none of those are working to get through the DR either.

  Thwack-thwack-thwack, I hear the blows rained by Little John with his quarterstaff. I hope he’s getting damage, because I’m not. I step back to reconsider my strategy, shield up, visor down.

  Another fireball explodes to my right. Tye curses. ‘Nothing. He’s immune to fire.’

  The trouble is Tye is a fire mage. Fire is what he’s got. He may have other minor attack spells, but I can’t imagine they will do much against a beast like this. Tye plays a Flaming Ray against the thing, but as expected and confirmed by the twist in his face, it does little good.

  Bernard is up against it too, jabbing and slashing with his sword. He grunts and pulls back. I see him dig in his inventory and soon a luminous green acid flask is sailing through the air and bursting against the invisible dragon.

  ‘Anything?’ I shout over.

  ‘No! Acid doesn‘t work.’

  ‘Try something else.’

  ‘I don’t need you to tell me that, genius.’ Then he lobs a cold flask. I could have told him that would not work.

  Suddenly to the left, about where the dragon’s head must be, Robin Hood emerges from stealth and dual wields his short swords in a flurry of blows. I don’t know if he’s getting through. And then there’s a roar and I see the white cone of a breath weapon. I know that different coloured dragons have different breath effects, I’m not sure what a Crystal Dragon’s breath does, and then I see Little John enveloped in the white cone, and he turns into a floating shape of thistle down that dissipates on the breeze.

  ‘Jeepers,’ Tye yells. ‘It turned him into dandelion clocks! I hope it can’t do that too often.’

  Then the dragon snaps and reaches with its invisible head to bite into Robin. Robin Hood screams as the dragon’s jaws close round him. He’s healed briefly, but the dragon has him in his mouth and it chews. Robin’s taking massive damage and even though Tuck is throwing healing spell after healing spell in Robin’s direction, there’s too much DPS being dealt by the dragon and he can’t out heal the damage. I shout to Fitheach. ‘Concentrate on healing Robin.’ I’m doing this hoping Robin at least is doing damage.

  Just because I’ve got nothing else to do, I rush forward and jab. I might distract the monster at least, but I don’t. It bites again and Robin is sliced in half and dies.

  ‘This isn’t looking good, boss,’ Tye says. ‘I’m useless here.’

  ‘I will try Holy Damage,’ Bernard says, reaching into his inventory and pulling out a smoking white flask.

  I yell over, ‘Holy damage doesn’t get through,’ but Bernard’s already chucked the flask and I watch as it explodes uselessly.

  ‘Light then.’ Bernard’s going through all of his options. It’s worth a try, but his attacks have drawn the dragon’s attention and it lashes out, raking him. I see Bernard fall back, the light flask, dropping out of his hand and rolling into the long grass. He gasps, blood spouting from a slash in his chest. ‘It’s okay,’ he mutters, ‘I’ve got another light flask.’

  Fitheach and Tuck both heal the alchemist as he reaches for another flask. The dragon concentrates its attack on him now, slashing with its invisible claws. Bernard rolls out of the way and hurls a light flask. I see the flask explode but I’ve no idea whether it did any damage.

  Tye has fallen back to stand with Tuck and Fitheach. The healers are trying to heal Bernard and once again. With a roar, I go to distract the beast, guessing where its head must be now and slashing down. But I’m buffeted by something I can’t see, maybe a wing and I go flying about twenty feet across the glade, landing heavily. I quickly get to my feet but by that time Bernard’s dead. This is looking like a wipe. I run across the glade but the monster has attacked both Fitheach and Tuck and they go stumbling backward.

  I see Tuck put up his shield and mace and Fitheach brandish his staff, but by the time I’m across the glade, Fitheach has been slaughtered. Tuck braces, the thing hits him and he heals and stands solid. I scream my Battle Cry to try to taunt it, but the dragon sees me as no threat, and pays no attention. The beast roars out with a sound that shakes the trees and rocks behind and almost splits my ears. I’m in there, like a child pummelling a giant, but the dragon’s attention is on Tuck. It hits him again and knocks him to the ground. I see him self-heal but wonder how much punishment he can take.

  Tye fires another fireball, and I don’t mention that the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result, because I’m doing the same thing too.

  Then Tuck is dead. Tye turns and runs and I watch as a cone of white breath emerges from apparently nowhere and envelopes the fleeing mage. Before my eyes, he turns into a drifting cloud of thistledown. I guess it takes that long for the breath weapon to recharge. I’m safe from that at least. I can’t see it, but I sense the dragon is finally paying me a little attention.

  The thing smashes me with its claws, first one then the other.

 

 

 

 

  I could sip a healing potion, but what’s the point?

  As if bored with slashing with its claws, the dragon leaps forward invisibly and bites me. The huge jaws close around me.

 

 

  My ghost shimmers and emerges from my broken body. I give a last rueful look at the dragon I can’t see, then my ghost drifts off to my bind point at the Forest of Bowland milestone. At least it’s not Silver Drift, I think. That cheers me up a bit, until I realise there’s very little chance of us getting the wagons back by killing the dragon. Unless Robin Hood has pity on us.

  ‘No way, it doesn’t work like that,’ Robin Hood says when I ask him if we can have our wagons back.

  Little John buts in. ‘We had a deal. You kill the dragon and you get back your wagon. Hey that rhymes! I shudda been a bard!’

  I sigh. It’s as I thought. ‘But we can’t damage it. It’s got some hellish damage reduction. Nothing we did got through.’

  Bernard pulls at his scrawny brown beard. ‘Yeah, I did.’

  I begin, ‘So, I don’t know what the hell…’ Then I turn to Bernard. ‘What did you say?’

  He looks puzzled. ‘What do you mean, what did I say?’

  I’m exasperated. ‘You said you got some damage through.’

  He nods. ‘Not much. A little.’

  ‘Yeah but what got through the damage reduction?’

  Bernard blinks. ‘The light damage.’

  ‘Light damage?’

  ‘From the flask.’ He la
ughs. ‘Yeah, the final thing I tried! But it got me just before I could throw another flask. Only did fifty damage though and the thing must have a gazillion hitpoints.’

  ‘I’ve got a light spell,’ Fitheach says.

  ‘I could learn one,’ Tuck says.

  ‘Did you try your Searing Light on the dragon, Fitheach?’

  The saint shakes his head. ‘I was on healing duty.’

  ‘Well,’ I say, suddenly enthused. ‘Now we know what gets through we should go and attack again.’

  Robin Hood rubs his chin. He doesn’t look convinced. ‘I don’t have any light damage weapons.’

  ‘Me neither,’ I say. ‘But if Tuck can meditate and learn Searing Light and Fitheach’s got Searing Light and Bernard’s got his light flasks. Maybe we’ve got a chance.’

  It’s Tye’s turn to look unconvinced. ‘I might as well stay here. I can’t do anything.’

  ‘Not me neither,’ Little John says.

  ‘As far as I see, it’s a question of DPS.’ Robin Hood says. I admit he’s got a point. ‘Problem is,’ he continues. ‘We’re doing some damage, and that’s a step up because up to now we never figured how to get through its damage reduction, so thanks for that boys, but the dragon isn’t just going to sit there and do nothing while we fire at it. Plus our healers are going to be doing the offensive spells, so who’s going to heal?’

  ‘We can heal ourselves at the same time,’ Fitheach says.

  Tuck nods. ‘We can try.’

  Robin sucks his teeth. ‘Great spirit there, but I’m still not sure.’

  Bernard sits forward. ‘Can we have our wagons back anyway then?’

  Robin looks at him. ‘No. No dead dragon, no wagons for you. A deal is a deal.’

  So we try again anyway. It goes a predictable way. Tye and Little John come along mainly as observers, but the dragon kills them anyway. The dragon realises that the healers were the threat because they were doing it most damage. It turns both of them to thistledown with one breath as they are standing close together. After that it’s pretty quick. We have no healing other than potions and the dragon’s jaws go snicker-snack and we’re soon resurrecting back at the Milestone.

  I log off at that point and when I get back to the game, we reassemble within the hour. I feel pretty depressed. ‘So what are you going to do about the dragon?’ I ask Robin. He shrugs. ‘We’ve lived with it for a while. Sometimes it bothers us and destroys our camp.’

  ‘That’s bad,’ Tye says. ‘Surely you want to get rid of it?’

  Robin gives him a hard stare. ‘I think we just went through that.’

  ‘Ah yeah.’

  ‘And no wagons back just ‘cause we tried?’ Bernard says.

  Robin’s a hard man. ‘Nope.’ Then he raises a finger. ‘But, we will keep the wagons safe for you here until you figure out a way to kill the dragon.’

  ‘Honest?’ I ask.

  He nods. ‘Honest.’

  Later, I’m gathered with Tye, Fitheach and Bernard. Fitheach says, ‘Let’s just kill them all.’

  ‘Yeah, and steal the shit back,’ Tye says.

  I sigh heavily. ‘There are lots of them. We wouldn’t make it and then they’d feel justified selling the wagons to whoever, including the enemy.’

  ‘They might do that anyway,’ Bernard says.

  ‘They might, but I somehow think they’ve got more honour than that. Robin promised us he’d keep the wag

  gons until we find a way of killing the dragon.’

  ‘Which is going to take some time,’ Bernard says, ‘Given we don’t have a clue of how to get enough DPS.’

  ‘So what is the plan?’ Fitheach says.

  ‘Well, as far as I can see, we either go back to Silver Drift and start again. Or…’

  They’re all watching me, waiting for what I’m going to say, so I continue. ‘See, I’m really worried about the Siege now. If Satanus has put a belt of darkness around Caer to choke off supplies and resistance, I fear that the end is close for the King. So maybe we go anyway. Just journey on from here.’

  ‘Without the vorpal weapons?’ Tye says.

  I shrug. ‘The four of us will be some use in the fight. Even without vorpals.’

  ‘But better with vorpal weapons for the King,’ Bernard says.

  I throw up my hands. ‘Of course, but we can’t kill the dragon.’

  ‘So head on to Caer without the wagons?’ Fitheach says.

  I nod. ‘We can vote on it. You don’t have to come with me. My loyalty lies with the King.’

  ‘So does ours,’ Fitheach says. The others nod. The saint smiles. ‘No need for a vote, Gorrow.’

  So that’s it decided. we’re going on. I’m glad. I’m sad we can’t take the supplies for the vorpal weapons, but I’d hate to say in later times that we did nothing while the King was fighting a last-ditch attempt to save the kingdom of Logres.

  I tell Robin Hood about our decision to journey onwards without the wagons.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll keep them for you, in case you have any brainwaves,’ he says. He softens. ‘I appreciate your efforts. You seem decent guys.’

  Bernard starts, ‘I don’t suppose there’s any use in me asking…’

  Robin shakes his head. ‘No, there isn’t. See, what if word got out that Robin Hood had gone soft? Then everyone would be breaking deals with me. Sorry, can’t help.’

  I mount up. As we set off on horseback, Robin Hood, Little John and Friar Tuck stand watching us leave. ‘Give my regards to the King,’ Robin says.

  ‘You could come with us,’ I say.

  Robin shakes his head. ‘Need to stay here, to protect what’s ours and look after the poor. I’m sure the King will understand.’

  Maybe he would. As we leave the clearing on the forest trail, Robin calls out from behind us. ‘Which way you going, anyway?’

  ‘South West,’ I say.

  ‘Through Pendle?’

  I check the map on my HUD. ‘Yeah, just under Pendle Hill.’

  Robin laughs.

  I half turn in the saddle and slow Spirit down. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Watch out for the witches,’ he says.

  ‘Witches?’ Tye asks.

  Little John says, ‘Yeah, they be fierce. I don’t think you’ll make it.’ He puts his hands up to his chests making motions. ‘But they got nice bazoomas.’

  ‘Thanks for that, John,’ I call back.

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ the curly haired halfling ranger shouts as we set off on our journey to Caer.

  13

  Clitheroe

  We set off along a forest trail, leaving Robin Hood’s glade behind and going deep into the shadowy heart of the Forest of Bowland. As we ride on, it gives me time to think and confirm my belief that we are better off arriving at Caer and giving support to King Arthur rather than going back to Silver Drift, mining more crystals and arriving after it’s all too late. The fact that it’s close to being too late is a sombre thought, and I ride on in silence for a while, following Tye and Bernard who are having an animated chat about netball. Behind me rides Fitheach who’s looking uneasy. I turn in my saddle. ‘What’s up?’

  He lifts his bushy eyebrows and scratches the beak of his nose nervously. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Well, I’m just being silly.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Feel stupid saying it.’

  Fitheach is a wonderful guy but at times can be exasperating. ‘Just say it,’ I say.

  ‘Well, I thought there was someone following us.’

  That’s odd because Tye thought he’d seen someone when we were about to go into the tunnel before fighting the dragon. ‘Where?’ I say, twisting further round on my saddle and peering into the trees behind us.

  Fitheach jerks a thumb. ‘Back there.’

  ‘Who was it?’

  ‘I didn’t see them properly. Might have just been a wild boar or something.’

  I scan both sides of the track but see nothing.<
br />
  Fitheach dismisses his previous concerns. ‘Ignore me. Like I say, I’m just being stupid.’

  The truth is that we’re all a little down after losing our wagons and having to proceed with nothing when we’d hoped we’d be bringing a game-changing weapon upgrade to King Arthur. I guess that must be why Fitheach’s jumping at shadows. It’s easy to imagine you’ve seen something in a huge forest that seems to go on forever, and this one is particularly gloomy at the moment. What little of the sky we can see above the trail is grey and foreboding. Best thing is if we just ride on. I’m waiting until we discover another milestone so I can bind, then I think I’ll log off and come back tomorrow.

  There’s something else to do first though. I send a personal message to Grimdark The Barbarian, the man I’ve left in charge of the Forgotten Chapel Dungeon. At first he doesn’t reply. We continue on the trail and I sort through my inventory and my skills on my HUD tabs and then I get a ping.

  Grimdark: Yo, Gorrow. How’s it hanging?

  Gorrow: Good. Sort of anyway.

  Grimdark: Oh? What’s up?

  Gorrow: Never mind. We’re on our way to Caer. How’s the Settlement?

  Grimdark: Seems to be running fine. Jason and Thorvald are in charge of that.

  Gorrow: And the dungeon?

  Grimdark: Good. We made some changes.

  A thrill of anxiety rushes from toe to head in my VR rig.

  Gorrow: We?

  Grimdark: Brought Treebeard in. Hope you don’t mind?

  Treebeard was the druid that had accompanied Grimdark when he entered the dungeon as a player. He seemed a good guy. Good fighter too.

  Gorrow: That’s ok. But changes? What changes?