by Dean Henegar
Chief Bugtug, Goblin Chieftain, Level 15 Elite Mini Boss.
Bugtug’s Brawlers, Elite Goblin Bodyguard, Level 15 (12).
Bugtug wore an outlandish set of shiny golden chainmail with a full-face helm. A multi-shot hand crossbow was strapped to his side. How did he get one when I hadn’t been able to wheedle any from the dwarves yet? Held in his grip was an ornate spear that glowed with enchantments. The bodyguards were armored in regular chainmail of good quality and carried round metal shields as well as various single-handed weapons. The bodyguards’ gear was good—I doubted Bugtug was going to skimp on his own safety—but not good enough to encourage them to challenge the powerful leader. I knew how Bugtug had gained control of the clan and figured he had to constantly worry about challengers and assassination attempts.
“Ah, Great Chief Bugtug, it’s good to see you once again. I apologize for distracting you from your duties. I only wanted to head into the dungeon to have a talk with Drake,” I replied, deciding not to address his request for tribute. When I thought about it, Bugtug actually paid me tribute by growing the zone’s economy, which funded my legion.
“Yes, you are dissuhmissed, Raytak. Go about your businesses and knows you are always welcome in my vast and mightiest realm-land,” Bugtug said.
I suppressed a smile at his strange speech patterns. The goblin chief promptly forgot about me and his request for tribute; his attention had moved on to a miner he felt was slacking off. A few corrective blows later, the miner continued his work with renewed vigor as Bugtug continued his endless patrol of the mine.
Once at the swirling entrance portal to the dungeon, I was happy to see that a squad of town guard was still posted here. The guards had a makeshift barricade they could throw across the entrance to the dungeon to defend against an outbreak of monsters—something that wasn’t supposed to happen with Drake in charge—or an attack from the other direction if invaders made it past the guards at the entrance. The halfling Drake was standing outside the entrance, chatting with the guards while he waited for me. The little guy wore a mystical-looking set of purple robes and had his hood pulled over his head. If it wasn’t for his diminutive height, the overall effect would be ominous.
“Hey, Raytak. Thanks for coming to visit. We always seem to miss each other at the Petty Dispute, and I know you don’t get to do dungeons with your class the way it is,” he said, pulling back his hood to reveal his face.
“Thanks for seeing me, Drake. I had some concerns about your new dungeon boss . . . But say, aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?” I asked, knowing that school was the reason Yendys and Quimby weren’t online.
“No, I’ve got the flu, so I had to stay home today. Being in-game lets me forget about how crummy I feel. Do you want to meet in my sanctum? It’s really cool and I think you’ll like it,” Drake asked as an invite popped up.
The pitmaster Drake has invited you into a private instance. Use caution before accepting an invitation to a private instance from people you are unfamiliar with.
The system prompt had a generic warning to remove our legal liability feel to it. I assumed that some people could use a private instance to harass or bully other players. From what I knew, the game did a good job of weeding out the online troublemakers, but I was sure some people with bad intentions would occasionally slip through the cracks.
“Sounds great, Drake. Lead on,” I replied as portal animations swirled around us. I was deposited into a large room with no visible way out. Drake had set the place up like a throne room complete with an ornate chair for him to sit on while he worked on what I assumed was the pitmaster’s version of my war table. The table in front of him displayed a diagram of the dungeon. On the side of the table were cupboards containing miniatures of the various creatures that inhabited the place.
“Nice digs, kid. I like your command table. How does it work?” I asked, curious about how his class played out.
“Check it out, Raytak. It’s cool. I can adjust the dungeon layout here and even watch each instanced group as they proceed through the dungeon. With another setting, I can design new traps or monsters for the place, but I’m limited based on the type of dungeon I control,” Drake replied while showing me some groups going through the dungeon. It looked like a fun setup and a unique way to play the game, but I’d stick with my armies.
“Your current dungeon design is what I was worried about, Drake. You see, I killed this Siren creature back when I stopped the Gul Dorg invasion at Holdfast. How is she back here, and do we have to worry about her escaping again? I know you can prevent stuff from escaping, like you did with Tessel, but this Siren is a much bigger threat.”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself? This is one of the fun bits of the class. I can summon any of my creatures whenever I need to,” Drake said as another portal opened beside me. The figure that stepped out caused me to draw my sword and equip my shield. The twisted form of the Gul Dorg master named Siren stood across from me, and though she did not attempt to attack, I wasn’t going to drop my guard. Siren took a step toward me and halted when Drake raised his hand.
“Ah, the great commander remembers me. So flattering to be recognized in public by my murderer,” Siren said with contempt.
“Play nice, Siren. Commander Raytak has a few questions for you,” Drake ordered.
Siren looked annoyed but followed his command. Perhaps Drake did have control over this monstrosity. “Ask away, human. I find myself rather restrained by the agreement I made with my pitmaster.”
“Very well. First off, how are you still alive? I killed you back in Holdfast,” I asked.
“Yes, you did kill me, Raytak. Or at least most of me. A master of my power doesn’t survive for as long as I have without careful preparations for the future. When my life is threatened, I can place a bit of my essence into a magical device, lying dormant for as long as necessary until a suitable host presents itself,” Siren stated.
Drake plucked a golden insect from an ornate case. “She was hiding in this thing. It tried to poke me and infect me with a parasite when I held it. The thing seems empty now.”
“Yes, but how did you get into that thing? That golden bug thing wasn’t on your body after the battle,” I asked.
“My dear, as a master, I plan far in advance. I merely counted on the greed and ambition of one of my daughters. When the time was right, I knew she would run off with the prize, seeking to supplant me as the master. My mind was slipping into a bestial state after bonding with that gnoll moron Krork, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to make rational decisions at some point.”
“Okay, but what happened to your daughter? Is there another potential master running around out there?” I said with concern.
“Oh, no. You see, my daughter, Guile, found herself threatened and tried to hide inside the scarab. Little did she know that a part of her dear mother was already inside, waiting for her to visit. I consumed Guile and used her essence to sustain myself. I am Siren, and I will be the master of the Gul Dorg, not my daughters, not any other!” Siren raged, losing her cool at the end of her rant.
“Does that answer your questions, Raytak?” Drake asked.
I nodded, relieved there wasn’t some other Gul Dorg running around the zone of Hayden’s Knoll. Drake sent the creature back to wherever he had pulled her from. I would be a happy man if I never had to see a Gul Dorg again.
“You’re sure she can’t escape?” I asked Drake, just to be sure.
“Correct. Just like Tessel never got out, there is no way Siren can unless I call her. She remains bound by the dungeon agreement. When we fought the ghoul lord, I summoned various dungeon creatures, but even then, they had to abide by the dungeon restrictions,” Drake said with confidence.
“Okay, kid, I’ll trust you, but if Limitless Lands is consumed by a swarm of parasites, I’m holding you personally responsible,” I joked.
“You want to watch some parties try to clear the new dungeon? They’re getting wrecked left an
d right. It’s awesome. I’m sure groups will figure out the fights eventually, but until then, I’m raking in the XP from them wiping. I get a little XP from a party that clears the place, but total wipes are way more profitable.”
“That actually sounds fun, but I have to head out. There’s a war to plan, and it looks like the zone next door is about to invade us,” I told Drake.
“That sounds cool, too, but I’ll stick to creating deadly dungeons, Raytak. If you ever need me again, though, I’d be glad to help,” Drake offered as he opened an exit portal that led directly to my garrison. I didn’t know if the war would open another chance to put the pitmaster back in action, but it was nice to know he was willing to help if it was allowed.
Chapter 4
“Hey, you old fart, get over here. We’ve got a meeting to get to,” Ty shouted at me from across the street as I was leaving the garrison. He had a stupid grin on his orcish face, and I suspected I wore won as well. Seeing my friend always boosted my spirits—almost as much as seeing my granddaughter, now that I knew who she was.
“What’s the Marine Corps up to today?” I asked.
“I wanted to make sure you made it to the meeting without getting lost,” Ty replied. We shook hands and continued toward the town hall, looking at the rapidly expanding city. The roads in town were all paved now—thanks to the legion. Delling’s upgrades had added covered boardwalks to all the main streets, giving the citizens a dry place to walk in inclement weather. Directly across from my garrison, several weapons trainers had opened up shop. Players perused the trainers, looking for new skills or the chance to unlock an ability to wield different weapons. Admittedly, I was curious but had too much on my plate to start grinding out skills with a weapon other than my gladius.
“How is the outside world treating you, Ty?” I asked, curious about how he was fitting back in.
“It’s a dream come true, but also hard at times. You remember how it was when we would come home from a deployment? It’s a little like that. I can’t complain, though, and I know you’ll be joining me out there soon as well. In fact, we should set up a party once you get out. The old soldier and Marine club will hold its inaugural meeting,” Ty said.
As he mentioned deployments, some more memories unlocked themselves, distracting me as I tried to process the familiar feelings that had followed me into the game.
I was sitting in a school theater with my wife. Unfortunately, my wife’s image was vague and indistinct as she sat next to me, watching the school play. Soon, I would be able to remember her face, but not yet. Among the kids performing in the play, I spotted another blurry figure that I took to be my child. I started sweating and turning my head to scan the crowd. There were too many people, too many potential threats to assess at once. I tried to remind myself I was home and that the war was far away, but it didn’t help. When I excused myself to leave the auditorium, I could hear the disappointment in my wife’s voice as she called out. I spent the rest of the performance in a bathroom stall, trying to pull myself together in the familiarity and safety of the small space.
It took many years for my anxiety around crowds to wane. It never went away completely, and I would, at times, still feel the adrenaline rush and hypervigilance associated with my condition. The wars took a toll on us, and not just physically. The mental scars were always the last to heal, if they ever did. My wife never understood my desire to avoid crowded situations, but she tried to support me as best as she could. Thank God that the soldiers of today would never have to deal with this. I supposed drones and push-button warfare had something going for it.
“Sorry, Ty. I drifted off there for a bit,” I told him.
“No worries, Raytak, I recognized the look. You have nothing to apologize for.”
Here, next to me, was one of the few people left in the world who knew what I felt. I was blessed to have a friend like Ty—in-game or out. “Let’s get moving, Ty. You never know: Delling might even have some crayons for you to snack on at the meeting,” I joked.
Ty punched me on the shoulder with his huge orc hand—doing seventeen damage in the process. Trying to ignore the pain, I walked with Ty toward the town hall.
The building had gone through another upgrade, much like my garrison was in the process of doing. The doors were stout oak, banded with iron, and would be a pain for an opponent to bash open without siege equipment. Delling had finally shelled out some coin to improve defenses.
“Sir, I’m ready for our meeting and will take notes. Do you wish me to liaise with any of our allies?” Blevins asked, popping up behind me as if he had appeared from thin air.
“No, you will not liaise with any allies. Take notes if you want to, but do not talk to our allies,” I ordered, not wanting the annoying private to say something that would destroy any of our alliances. He was the last person I wanted to see, but the AI had saddled me with him, and I hadn’t found a way to shake him yet. I wondered if Delling had some way to get in touch with that assassin, Lovely. She could probably make Blevins go away as long as I paid enough coin for the task. “Did you send out the orders for the transition points and Holdfast?”
“Yes, sir. Of course I did, though I would recommend that you hand them directly to me next time for efficiency’s sake,” Blevins chided. I ignored him.
We made it to the gates of the town hall, and I pushed any murderous thoughts aside as the guards posted outside led us into the main meeting hall. Quite a gathering was waiting for us, and Delling motioned for me to join him at the podium. The meeting hall was reminiscent of a church. Long wooden pews were set to either side, and a wide aisle was placed in the middle. A balcony featuring more seating was on the second floor, though I couldn’t see where the stairs were. The meeting hall was huge, and despite all the delegations from our allies and my player friends, there was enough room to fit hundreds more. Stonefinder Lhargen and Rollox were here, along with an honor guard of a dozen dwarves, including a runesmith. Beremund and a band of his people were also in attendance. His large club, festooned with the teeth and claws of his foes, was on the floor beneath the bench his people sat upon. Jacoby and Nitor were there, along with Ty, to represent the players.
The biggest shock was seeing Stench, his shaman, and a pair of ogre warriors stuffed into the aisle. They were sitting on the carpeted floor; the pews were much too small for their huge bodies. I saw the gears turning in Delling’s mind as we looked over the crowd. No doubt there would be some ogre-sized seating available the next time we all met. Hopefully we would be meeting to celebrate our victory and not commiserating in defeat.
Delling motioned for me to take the podium, electing not to make any opening remarks before I spoke.
“Thank you all for assembling so quickly. I hope you all have had a chance to meet our newest allies,” I said, gesturing to the ogres. The Drebix and Lhargen both nodded in their direction, indicating that they had been introduced already. No doubt Delling’s work.
“The legion just recently returned from fighting at the side of the Goreaxe clan to defeat not only the Ikbose elves but also an army from the zone to the east called Bharga’s Crossing,” I continued. “It is our understanding that Narbos the Grimm, who rules those lands, seeks to add Hayden’s Knoll to his territory. I plan to stand against him with every blade I can muster. Though we all may wish for a time of peace, it appears war is upon us again. This time we don’t face a rampaging band of monsters or some ancient evil dredged up from a cavern. This time, a true army will come, seeking to place us all under the rule of an evil overlord.”
Heads nodded in agreement, and only the ogres looked reluctant. Stench and his people had been at war with the Ikbose for so long that I imagined they might want a rest from battle. Unfortunately for the ogres, the vagaries of war didn’t consider our personal desires.
“The biggest problem, as I see it, is that we don’t know the numbers and composition of our enemy or where they might choose to invade. The west doesn’t have a transition point, a
nd the point to the north is inaccessible. That leaves the eastern approach or the southern, perhaps even both if the enemy has enough troops,” I told them.
“I think we can help out with that, Raytak. Perhaps Delling could set up a quest for us to recon Bharga’s Crossing,” Jacoby asked.
“That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll get together with you and Ty after the meeting and see what we can do to set up a quest and some rewards,” Delling agreed.
“That’s great, but ye can’t just sit idly in our ’omes while we wait fer news from oor adventuring friends,” Lhargen added.
“I agree, and we’re at a disadvantage since the enemy gets to choose where he will invade. The most likely avenue of attack would be the eastern point since it’s the one they used to ship in their expeditionary force and it’s adjacent to their lands. The fact that it’s the obvious choice makes me concerned they may want to take a different route. If they choose to come through the southern point, it would place them closer to the town than I would like.
“The downside to the southern point for our foes is the strength of the city itself. With cliffs on three sides and a long, narrow trail leading up to the town, it’s going to be a hard nut to crack. The enemy would likely need to besiege it for some time due to the strength of the guard as well as the garrison force. They would risk our forces from the rest of the zone cutting them off from their lines of supply and trapping them between the walls of Hayden’s Knoll and the entirety of our armies. If they turn to attack the army, the garrison can sally forth and hit them in the rear. If they push to attack the city, the army will do the same. All the while, their force will be withering away from a lack of supply,” I told the group.