by Dean Henegar
Lhargen read the details of the taxes in the zone, raising bushy grey eyebrows in pleasant surprise. I had to hand it to Delling, the college kid knew his stuff when it came to economics. His decision to implement only a small tax on things as they were sold, not when they were produced, was going to help close the treaty.
“I can’t believe you only charge a small tax on purchases in the zone. Most local governments would be taxing the mine, and the transition point, as well. I think the Stonehold clan can agree to these terms for now, providing that hashing out the details with your Mayor Delling goes as well as I think it will. You have my thanks for helping to free my people and giving my clan back one of its ancestral locations. More of my people are on their way here to reopen the mine. It will take them about two days to arrive. Can you help us get things in order and provide security until my own forces arrive?” Lhargen asked.
“That will not be a problem, Stonefinder Lhargen. My men were planning on staying here for a couple of days already. We were going to wait until our own garrison forces arrive to defend this critical area. I’m glad we were able to come to terms, Lhargen. It’s better for our people to be allies in these troubled times,” I replied as I shook Lhargen’s hand. The dwarf had an impossibly strong grip and his hands were rough as sandpaper from years of mining. I also noted with humor how the thick dwarven accent seemed to disappear when the dwarves were in good humor. I had to clue Delling in on that little observation. It may help in future negotiations.
“Take this as proof of the friendship and gratitude of the Stonehold clan.” With that, Lhargen passed over a worn and dirty banner. A prompt then flashed into view for me.
Bonus objective completed. You have hammered out the framework of an agreement between the Imperium and Stonehold clan, laying the groundwork for future encounters with other groups in the zone.
Reward: 1000 experience, 250 resources, 25 gold.
Reputation with the Stonehold clan: Friendly
You have received an unidentified banner. Have the item identified to unlock its abilities.
Your skill in negotiation has increased by 1.
The dwarves walked back toward their people and the mine; their energy revitalized after we had shared our rations with them. The dwarves were already arguing about what to do first to get the mine back into real production. Looking about the area, I noticed the goblins for the first time since the end of the fight. There were nearly fifty of the pathetic creatures huddled together. They were dressed in filthy rags, even more filthy than the rags goblins normally wore. The group was scrawny, having been well on the way to starvation and being worked to death since their capture. They all sat in a group licking their bowls for the last bits of food that we had given them. The medics advised that we needed to feed them only a small amount at short intervals instead of a single large meal due to their advanced stage of starvation. The medics had them on an eating schedule, and several of my men were there to make sure that every goblin got its share. The goblin race was not known for its ability to share, and usually the strongest took what they wanted from the weaker ones. I was not a big fan of goblins, but my experience with Bugtug led me to believe they could be worked with. I approached the huddle of creatures, keeping back a bit to try and stay away from the waves of stench rising off the pathetic goblins.
“You have been freed and are no longer slaves. It’s up to you what you want to do. If any of you are looking for a new tribe and don’t mind hard work, I may have an option for you. The Bugtug tribe is located in some mines near our town. We can take you there and keep you safe when we head back in a couple of days. It will be up to Chief Bugtug if he wants to make you members of his tribe, but whether he takes you or not, you will be safe in our lands as long as you don’t cause any trouble,” I said as I waited for a reply. The goblins began to chatter amongst themselves trying to come to a decision. I held up a hand to let my soldier know not to intervene if the goblins fought amongst themselves. The normal goblin decision making process involved arguments, and very likely spilt blood, as they came to a consensus. The arguing stopped as a familiar goblin stood and addressed the rest, apparently having established some authority over his people during their time in the mine.
“This Imperium man speaks truth. I, Eyeball, knowses this one. He killded my other clan when we’s attackded him. Beats us goods many times, despites us having ten goblins for every one of his soldiers. His death word is true and, as we’s knows, if someoneses death word is good, his life words can be trusted, too. I will go to this Bugtug and serves in his clan if Imperium man, Raytak, takes pity on me and allows me to live,” the goblin named Eyeball said.
Realization struck me, and I drew my sword. Standing before me was the one-eyed goblin that had been a part of the first battle I had in the game. He had fled after our soldiers wounded him and cut out one of his eyes. He then showed up and killed one of our wounded soldiers while we fought a larger group of goblins. I very much wanted to kill this one for slicing the throat of Private Long back in the starter zone, but something held me back. The pathetic creature in front of me was half starved. He had also lost a hand somewhere along the way, and his body was covered in scars. He may have wronged me, but this goblin had suffered already. I would gladly kill the goblin if he faced me again in battle, but I couldn’t hold a grudge over past opponents. If the goblin did what he said, the additional tribe members would be a benefit to the Bugtug mine and, by extension, provide the town with much needed resources. I had to hold back my personal vengeance for the greater good of the zone. Suppressing my anger, I addressed Eyeball.
“Eyeball, you know I have every right to run you through in return for your actions on the field of battle.” I paused, catching my breath. “But what you are proposing will benefit your people, as well as my people. The killing between us has to stop somewhere, and I would like it to be here. Travel back with us to the Bugtug tribe, work hard, and create a new life for yourselves. You will find conditions near the town much better than what any tribe has ever offered you. Be loyal to your chief, your town, and the Imperium.” With that, I sheathed my blade and walked away. I didn’t see the look of wonder on Eyeball’s face as I left. The goblin was in awe that an old foe had shown mercy on him. Normally mercy would be seen as weakness to a goblin, but Eyeball knew there was no weakness here. This was something different, something he would have to consider as it was against all he knew as a goblin. For now, he would lead this ragtag group back to town and join the Bugtug tribe. Time would tell if the Imperium man, Raytak, was being truthful, and if the other thoughts beginning to form in his goblin mind were true as well.
Chapter 19
The village of Tramwell
A figure crouched on the roof of the inn. The dark night, as well as the black clothing the figure wore, made the her almost invisible. A flash of light illuminated the street briefly as a group of four drunken figures stumbled from the brightly lit inn, their boisterous voices penetrating the quiet darkness.
“Did you see that guy puking all over the table? Thought he could drink me under…he’ll think again next time. Easiest 10 silver I ever made,” a drunken dwarf boasted as he led the other three inebriated dwarves further down the dark street.
“You’re an idiot, Fred. Now you’ll have to spend most of that money you won to buy a hangover cure if you want to get anything accomplished tomorrow,” the dwarf, Dhelia, advised. The debuff for a hangover caused stat penalties for several hours before slowly relieving over time. Only a few players had the recipe for the cure, which kept the prices high.
“Don’t worry about it, Dhelia. I got the money to burn…heck, we all do now that the mine is doing so well. At this rate, it’s like playing the game is making the money a part time job would pay,” Fred said as he pulled a small potion from his inventory. Fred liked to argue with Dhelia. In real life she was his sister and they had been bickering together for most of their lives. Though they fought with each other often, they were bo
th fiercely loyal and quick to help their sibling if they needed anything. Dhelia had even conceded to playing a dwarven miner, a class and race she hated, so she could keep an eye on her younger brother, Fred. She had to admit it though, Fred had made a great choice and the mine would more than pay for their subscription fees each month. She still thought that using his real-life name of Fred was a dumb move…who could take seriously a dwarf named Fred?
Fred quickly drank down the potion he was holding and pulled out three more, tossing them to his friends. “Here you go my friends. Drink these down. They’re hangover prevention potions and are only half the price of the cure. Thinking ahead can save you a few coins folks,” Fred boasted while tapping the side of his head, proud of himself for finding that the hangover prevention potions were less money than the after-the-fact cures.
The figure on top of the inn glided from rooftop to rooftop; two other dark figures joining her as they stalked their prey down the street. A street much darker than normal since, earlier in the evening, the figures had doused all the lanterns that would normally light the path. The figures had also eliminated the guard patrol in the area, knowing their work would be done before anyone found the dead guards and sounded the alarm. The group of dwarves were nearly to the ambush point. All three figures drew small hand crossbows and took aim, the small bolts on the crossbows glowing a sickly green from the poison coating their tips.
“Thanks Fred,” Dheros said, glad to not have to deal with even the small hangover he would face the next day. “Sometimes I regret setting my pain level at ten percent. I don’t know how you stand the max, thirty percent. Totally hard-core dude,” Dheros continued. The game allowed players to set a pain level of one percent up to a maximum of thirty percent. The higher levels of pain quickly became a badge of honor for the players who could stand it.
“Hey guys, what’s with all the street lights being out? I knew this village was a dump, but I thought it was big enough to afford to keep the lanterns on at night,” one of the other dwarves said just before a crossbow bolt took him in the neck. The dwarf made a gurgling sound as he fell to the cobblestone street, quickly convulsing as the poison took effect. Two more bolts shot down as the other two figures on the roof loosed their crossbows. One hit Dheros in the neck and had a similar effect on him as it did to his friend. Fred reacted faster, drawing his small wood shield as the bolt embedded in it.
“Gankers! Get ready to fight,” Fred said as a new wave of crossbow bolts flew down, two striking and paralyzing Dhelia, and one embedding in Fred’s leg. Pain and a sudden weakness caused him to drop to the ground, quivering and unable to move as his muscles contracted. The clenching muscles sent spasms of pain throughout his body. The three figures leapt down from the roof with little effort and approached the fallen Fred. The one in charge crouched down a few feet away from the dwarf, her head tilted as if contemplating the fallen player.
“You… take care of the other three while I deal with this,” Lovely said in a quiet whisper, just loud enough to be heard. The other two attackers moved to dispatch the paralyzed dwarves. “Now that that little piece of business is completed, let’s get to the main event shall we, Fred? My employers had made you a generous offer, letting you keep a whole five percent of the mine your guild found. They were so disappointed that you declined the offer that they asked me to come here and keep you and your friends entertained while they escalate negotiations.” Shouts of warning and the clash of arms could be heard in the distance. The occasional battle spell caused flashes of light to highlight the dwarf struggling to overcome the poison.
“I should have mentioned, Fred, that escalating negotiations means that Chaotic Outcomes has declared war on Tramwell. They are taking the town by force, and by conquering the town in battle, they will also take the mine. You may not have known this, but in a time of war, resource points can be captured. The ownership of a captured resource point is transferred to the conquerors. To get it back, you’ll have to take the town back. Good luck with doing that, as a dwarven miner class. You could have done things the easy way, but you’re as stubborn as the dwarf you play,” Lovely taunted, though she wasn’t really into taunting her targets. The taunts were something that Narbos had placed into her contract. She would normally negotiate out of such petty and cartoonish taunts, but the lure of the reward was too good to argue with. Narbos the Grim was determined to conquer the zone of Bharga’s Crossing and win the scholarship his university was offering. He also seemed intent to do it in the most annoying way possible, as far as Lovely thought. Vhellia was ok, but Narbos was a conceited jerk.
“You…forgot…one…thing…assassin,” Fred stammered out through his clenched teeth.
“Oh, really? What might that be, my friend?” Lovely replied, as her view was blocked by one of her two comrades approaching Fred to empty his pockets.
“Just…that…dwarves…have…natural resistance to poison!” Fred said as the poison wore off of him early. He swung the mining pick that was still clenched in his formerly spasming hand. The blow hit the waist of the assassin that had been rifling through his pockets, looking for loot. The enhanced pick was powerful enough to punch through rock, so it had no trouble piercing through the rogue and into his spine, killing him in a critical hit. Just as Fred was standing up, Lovely vanished and suddenly appeared behind him. Her two daggers imbedded into Fred’s lower back, causing intense pain and reapplying the crippling poison. Fred fell once more to the ground, spasming in pain.
“Now that little outburst will cost you. I have to expend more resources to get my point across I see,” the assassin said as she began pouring small vials over the dwarf’s hands and feet. The milky substance quickly hardened and held his hands and legs fast to the cobblestone street. “There, that should keep you a bit more civil, little dwarf. Back to business; as I was saying, you can always get your band of friends together and try to take the town and mine back from Chaotic Outcomes. I really hope you do. That way I can make more coin from another contract to assassinate you,” the assassin said as she slowly twisted her blades, causing searing pain in Fred’s back.
Fred felt defeated. He and all his friends had taken non-combat classes in order to increase their productivity. He knew that he would never be able to gather enough players or npc’s to take back the small town and its attached mine. It was better to try and at least get something from the deal, helping to pay their way while they found some other venture in-game to make coin.
“Hold up, assassin. What will I get if I sign over the rights to the mine? You may be able to easily conquer the town and mine, but I do have several npc guards that we hired, and it would save you resources to not have to fight them and clear out all the workers in the mine,” Fred pleaded.
This was exactly what Lovely had hoped he would do. She had been offered a bonus if Fred signed over the mine willingly. Having to take it by force would inevitably cause damage that would be expensive and time consuming to repair.
“Well Fred, we may be able to come to some agreement.” Lovely paused as she pretended to think of a solution. “I have been authorized to offer payment if you voluntarily sign over the mine, though your stubbornness to our original offer will cost you. I think the guild could pay…say fifty gold to sign over the rights. Think quickly, it won’t take them long to take the town, and the mine attached to it is next on the agenda for the guild’s forces,” Lovely offered. Fred contemplated trying to negotiate a percentage of profits, but realized it would be hopeless. He came to a quick decision, one he knew he would regret, but one that he saw no alternative to.
“Fine. Hand over the money and I’ll sign. Just grant us safe passage to the transition zone. Me and my friends will want out of this stupid zone as soon as possible,” Fred relented, as he quickly approved the sale contract that popped up in front of him. Lovely tossed him a coin pouch containing fifty gold.
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Fred. Horrible name for a character, by the way. There is on
e last parting gift that the guild requires I give you and then you will not be bothered by us again. Have a good evening.” With that, the assassin twisted her blade, sending Fred to respawn. Lovely threw a small sack of coin to the other surviving assassin. “Here, this should cover what I owe, as well as a bonus for you. Don’t give any of the bonus to that one when he respawns,” she indicated the dead assassin. “I don’t reward stupidity. Never approach an enemy without making sure that they can’t fight back. I’ll contact you if I require assistance in the future. Just don’t bring your stupid friend next time,” Lovely said as she disappeared into the shadows, leaving the hired rogue behind. She would make a killing on this job, the assassin thought as she activated the teleportation scroll that Narbos had given her.
The assassin appeared inside a large office. As Lovely materialized, several guards were facing her with weapons drawn. The assassin held her hands up in the universal “I surrender” pose as Narbos considered her from behind a desk. The desk was ornate and contained the following Latin inscription across the front.
Ordo ab Chao
Loosely translated it read, From Chaos comes Order, the motto of the Chaotic Outcomes guild.
“Ahh, Lovely, I see you have returned. I can assume by the fact you used the portal scroll that you have succeeded in your mission?” Narbos said as he tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently.
“Yeah, you know I always complete my contracts. The dwarves have signed away their rights, which should save you some effort and should net me a bonus. How about we get to the part of this transaction where you pay me, Narbos,” Lovely said.