by Domino Finn
"Aye," said Stigg. "All it took last time was a one-eyed titan."
Izzy chuckled. "Is it a bad time to bring up how the pagans just dissolved the armistice?"
"Or that the wildkins refused to help?" added Dune.
I shook my head with a smile. "This is exactly what we should be discussing. You guys are outlining our objectives, even if the quests are vague."
"I got another one," crowed Trafford.
Quest Offer: Quash Shorehome Unrest
Quest Type: Fepic
Reward:
Recent events have weakened support for the Brothers in Black. The pirate town can be a pivotal ally if their power is reconciled.
Accept Quest?
"You see?" I accepted the third quest with a grin. "That one's not so bad. With Hadrian in Oakengard, Shorehome should be easy to sway to our side."
"Ar," agreed Captain Oates, "that be sure."
"Brugo did fight with us in the Arena," said Izzy.
The pirate nodded. "The Papa will look out fer his int'rests, which in this case align with ours. He'll welcome our help an' do anythin' he can t' exact revenge on the Whisperer."
Now it was Jixa's turn to express doubt. "Three dayses since that man has respawned. Three dayses with no word to friendses. Maybe pirateses don't have the stomachs to fight."
The captain's eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that, girl."
"We can do this," I boldly assured, in no small part to convince myself. "Three quests: to Oakengard, the wild, and Shorehome." My tone dulled. "Each without clear objectives, riddled with multiple hangups, and all before the deadline of three days." I frowned as my rousing speech kind of sputtered out.
Trafford harrumphed. "I'm sorry to say it, son, but there's no way we can complete everything in time."
The room shared a collective sigh. It was one thing to approach obstacles with a gung ho attitude; it was another entirely to be successful. Blindly charging into failure might be brave, but it was hardly wise.
The need for wisdom brought to mind Peter's poisoned rose. Maybe the first advice I'd ever received after dying. Then again, it wasn't long before I came up with a mantra of my own: fight smarter, not harder. This was one of those cases where the hard part couldn't be avoided, but that didn't mean we had to ditch the smarts. We had to outfight, outwork, and outsmart our enemies on all fronts, which meant we needed to handle this like professionals.
"You're absolutely right," I said finally. "It's impossible for everyone to get everything done. Not one quest at a time." I stepped away from Trafford and paced the room, passing by each of my allies. "These quests are too much for one party to overcome. Skill doesn't even come into play; it's logistics. We can't cover all corners of Haven in so little time. But we're not a single party anymore. The Black Hats are more than that, especially now since we've eclipsed three-hundred members. Hadrian came at us on multiple fronts—goblins, bandits, crusaders, even the real world. It's time for us to start fighting fire with fire."
Izzy's pressed indigo lips together. "You're suggesting we split up."
"Why not? Kyle and Bravo Team are already in Oakengard."
"That's not gonna cut it," grumped Trafford. "They'll need an army, and two-and-a-half days isn't a lot of time to march across the map."
"It better be. You'll be leading the march, General."
"Wha—?" The old man sputtered in shock. "I always thought that title was more of an honorary one."
"Not tonight. We have the manpower. We have the leadership. We have over two full days to achieve our objectives. Call it improbable if you want, but I don't wanna hear impossible."
Dune showed his teeth. "I'm getting the feeling there won't be time for pints tonight."
I grunted. "It's too bad I already used my dragon for the day. We could've used that head start." The more I thought about it, besides his escape with the soulstone, using up our daily legendary powers was probably the biggest fallout from Hadrian's siege. A small price, but a noticeable one.
"On the bright side," offered Izzy, "the horde is gone. We can send doves back and forth at will."
"No. I'm done with doves. We don't have time for protracted negotiations and vacillating back and forth. We're doing business face-to-face from here on out."
Errol rested a hand on the pommel of his rapier. "I suppose I'll be sailin' to me ol' homestead then."
I nodded. "The bulk of the army will head to Oakengard. We'll send teams to fulfill the subquests. Some of us will hunt down Vagram, some the errant folk."
"And no time for failure either," added Izzy with grave eyes. "Not if we want to make our deadline."
There were nods of support but hesitant eyes. The plan was only a rough idea at the moment. Most of the decisions and heavy lifting were on the way, the sooner the better. The thought was daunting.
"Okay, everybody!" shouted Trafford, snapping everyone to attention. "You heard the boss. Hit the bank, hit the shops, and gear up. We're moving out!"
The Black Hat captains rushed from the guildhall as Trafford still pored over his tome. I gave him a quick nod and headed out to mobilize the city.
1820 All 4 One
I sat on Bandit with the dragonspear pitched beside me into the Oldtown dirt. Much of my reputation hinged on the weapon and now my mount. I wasn't usually a sucker for ceremony, but with newcomers outnumbering legacy faction members, I had an impression to make.
Izzy stood at my side, winter staff in hand. I pulled Bandit's head and we spun in place to face the crowd.
"This is it, everyone," I announced in a commanding voice. "We're all Black Hats now. More importantly, we're residents of Haven. What we do, we do together, for each other." I sent out batches of brigade invites. "We'll shortly be splitting up into multiple units, each with their own goals. That doesn't mean we aren't all working together. The entire faction's gonna share experience and keep in touch over brigade chat." I could tell many of the lower-level players were confused by the new ability. "There's one rule: No speaking on brigade chat unless you're a guild captain or addressed by one. With this many people, the feed will get gummed up without moderation. Failure to abide by this rule will get you kicked off the brigade, meaning you won't benefit from shared experience. And trust me, given what we're facing, if you're not a guild captain, you'll want a cut of the experience we'll be getting."
Chuckles mingled with affirmatives. A lot of these players had never been in huge skirmishes, though a good number were present during the titan assault. Many others were hard workers who just hadn't been given the opportunity yet. This was their time to shine, and the eager faces were almost electric.
"All for one, one for all," I cheered. "We fought off the cyclops standing together. We fought off the kraken standing together. Now it's time we fight off the world!"
The attendees raucously chanted my name. I held up a fist and began chanting myself. "Black Hats! Black Hats! Black Hats!" Nearby members mimicked me, and the fire swept through the people like they were dry brush. All of Oldtown, a crowd of a few hundred, chanting the faction name.
"Now let's get to work!" I shouted. "Buildmaster General Trafford is here with Drummond. All combatants will check into the barracks. You'll be given supplies and storage. We'll run quick drills and group people according to skill level and need. This will happen quick because we're marching out before sunset."
Trafford squeezed through and patted Bandit's neck. "It won't be as smooth as all that, you know. This is a disorganized group mustered at the drop of a hat. And I'm no general."
I worked my jaw. The old man wasn't complaining, he was just telling it like it was. "I wish Lash was here to help." I eyed the crowd for support.
"What about Grimwart?" he suggested. "The colonel's familiar with battle."
"That's a great idea. We pulled forty crusaders through the fast travel. It's time to repay the favor."
"It's almost like we know what we're doing," laughed the old man. He surveyed the massive crowd and
pouted. "You know, we don't have enough healers. It was a problem during our last stand against Hadrian, and it'll be a problem again. This town simply hasn't been kind to 'em."
It was an odd development in an MMO, for sure, but Bishop Tannen's coup had soured people's attitudes on clerics. Real players had joined the catechists, especially healers, and they were run out of town.
"We have a large stock of health potions," I said. "Use the coffers to buy out what's in the shops, too."
"Will do," he said, "but potions don't go the distance. My time as a legionnaire taught me that much. No matter how dominating the force, attrition will slowly whittle it down. Once a day heals won't cut it." He grunted and shook his head at nothing in particular. "There's another thing, Talon. I haven't been able to single out any more subquests from the tome, but there's still the business of the overarching threads weaving through everything."
I grinned. "Still stuck on top-down specifics?"
"Don't get me wrong, I applaud your bottom-up insights. We have a direction to move, things to accomplish. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't nag at me not knowing what all this was in the service of."
I swallowed my levity and took a moment to ponder it. Izzy squeezed close as Trafford explained.
"I've been unraveling the loose threads on our three fepic quests. Remember how I said everything's connected by a master quest?"
"You figured it out?" asked the pixie.
His already gruff face blanched. "Not exactly, but I have found multiple references to the soulstones."
Izzy frowned. "Soulstones plural?"
"You got it. All three are specifically called out. The Eye of Orik, the Squid's Tooth, and the Crystal Core."
We simultaneously asked, "The Crystal Core?"
"That's Oakengard's soulstone, apparently."
My lips twisted. "Only no one's actually seen it before. The first time I visited the Trinity, Hero Gent let slip that it was stolen by a player."
Trafford hissed. "Hadrian."
"Could be," I replied, "but I didn't see any evidence of it. Peter said soulstones could be abused. That was how Hadrian controlled so many game objects."
"Wait," said Izzy. "I thought that was the Trojan."
I shrugged. "Maybe. Or it could be a combination of both. What I'm stuck on is, once we destroyed the Squid's Tooth, Hadrian seemed powerless. Does that sound like someone who's packing an extra soulstone to you?"
We traded grumbles and frowns, but none of us could compete with the salty veteran. "It gets worse," he said. "First, it's possible the quest chain could be broken since it references the Squid's Tooth, an apparently destroyed artifact. But that's not the only old game object mentioned." He lowered his head and swallowed. "I also found a quest link to the kraken."
Izzy pouted. "We've seen chat-log evidence indicating the kraken's still alive. It would stand to reason, if titans can respawn, that their corresponding soulstones can as well."
"We'd better hope, or we've got a monster on the loose and no way to hold it back."
I chewed my lip. Something wasn't sitting right. What was the common thread between our quests, the soulstones, and the kraken? My eyes flitted to the river where the pirates were prepping a skiff with supplies. The Albula. The Tiber. A new start. Saint Peter had almost told me...
"He wants us to destroy the soulstones," I blurted out.
Everyone stared at me in horror.
"What? Peter mentioned freeing the titans and ridding Haven of the soulstones. Think about it. The last few major battles were more or less fought because of them. Hell, they were enabled by them."
Izzy scoffed. "You don't think defeating evil's as easy as removing temptation, do you?"
"Not quite, but it's undeniable the soulstones can be exploited for supreme power. They're game breakers."
The old buildmaster eyed the Oldtown rubble. "Maybe taking care of them can at least prevent a semi-weekly Armageddon."
"There's that too." I idly scratched my chin as I mulled over the implications. "This changes things. We need to tweak our plans."
"What we need to do," asserted Izzy, "is get this pack of scrubs ready before the sun sets. We're two and a half days till launch and I've never seen a more ragtag band of rascals and bums."
I looked to Trafford for a second opinion.
"Never argue with a woman," he concluded. "Besides, I agree with her."
"What else is new?" I chortled.
"Hey," said the buildmaster as he started for the barracks, "you're the one who wanted to work from the bottom up."
I grinned and surveyed the bustling chaos. There was nothing to do but get this show started.
1830 Army Men
The next two hours were a coordinated blur. The massive logistics involved in directing hundreds of people were best described as problematic. Every player, NPC, and mob was of a different mind. We had to work with that while remaining decisive and apportioning the best people for the jobs.
Drummond organized troop loadouts. Grimwart consulted Trafford at the barracks to organize marching units. Jixa and her crew joined the ranks of fighters as new faction builders applied last-minute patches to the Heartcutter. What had started as a slow burn over the three days since Oldtown's last stand ended with a flurry of energy and commitment. And why wouldn't it? Not only had Black Hat membership multiplied, but there was finally something pressing to do.
Tragedy was funny like that. Sometimes it took the worst of humanity to bring out the best. Saint Peter's labor and sacrifice had come through for us one last time. The city finally had a target to go after, and nothing sharpens focus better than a bull's-eye.
As the sky framing Dragonperch darkened, the streets of Oldtown quieted. Grug and Grom helped Admiral Errol Oates onto the river skiff.
"We'll be off, then."
I held up a clenched fist. "We're counting on you."
"Aye, looks like I'll have t' save the Black Hats one more time."
I smirked and verified the party was sorted while I still had the chance. Me, Kyle, Izzy, Errol, and Trafford. The OG crew, all promoted to faction captains.
"Can you make good time?"
"If the seas be quiet we'll beat the sun, but only if we quit yappin'. Don't ye worry, Talon. We heres know what needs be done."
They pushed off and headed downstream to the north river gate. The fully manned and loaded Cutter waited outside, and while her state of repair left many maneuverability and combat concerns, she was seaworthy and fast.
I turned back toward the tower and a number of waiting soldiers. What a difference a couple of hours makes. The units actually looked organized. Trafford, Grimwart, and Gladius stood ready. Bandit nuzzled Artax on the neck.
"One hundred legionnaires, at your disposal," announced Gladius. "The other hundred must stay with me to man the city."
I blinked. "You're not coming with us, Commander?"
"I cannot. My duty is to Stronghold. I trust Trafford to lead my men well."
"Understood. Thanks for your help." I rapped a fist on my chest.
Trafford turned to me, good eye twinkling. "Times sure are changing. Looks like this old veteran's finally getting reasonable support. I'll bring them back safely." Trafford and Gladius exchanged salutes. "And speaking of support..." He turned to Grimwart. "Since you're fighting with us, would you consider serving as colonel of the Black Hat army?"
The crusader was taken aback. "You want me to be the field commander?"
"I'll still be out there with you," tempered the old man. "If the last few hours are any judge, we could really use your experience."
"You're the best choice," I agreed. "You might be unfamiliar with our faction and our membership, but you're probably the most active field commander in all of Haven. Your skills aren't maximized on just your crew of forty crusaders." I stepped in closer. "And I'm assuming you'll do anything to get to Oakengard and save the rest."
"You assume correctly, Talon." Grimwart frowned. "But I've taken
oaths to my order. I will serve the Black Hats as you ask, but when the war is won, my allegiance must return to the crusaders."
Trafford and I exchanged a frown, but there was nothing to be done. "I respect and understand your decision," I told him. "You won't be asked to forsake your oaths."
The colonel fell to one knee. "Then I am honored to fight the enemy as one of the Black Hats."
The sudden flair of ceremony took me off guard. I didn't know what the knight expected, so I simply rested a hand on his pauldron.
Crusader Reputation +100
Trafford stepped forward and rested a hand on the opposite shoulder. "In that case, until whatever time Oakengard is liberated, you can fight as one of us." The old man laughed and helped the knight to his feet.
Black Hats moved close and patted the colonel on the back. Grimwart thanked them and accepted the faction invite I sent. I also promoted him to a captain so he could induct the rest of his men. His face went stoic and he pushed through. "Since I have official duties now, there are hundreds of troops organizing outside the gate I should attend to."
I smiled at Trafford. He'd made a great choice. "Take the legion. Have them ready yesterday," commanded the buildmaster general. "The march is imminent."
Colonel Grimwart saluted and went to work. Trafford sighed as the legionnaires followed the weathered crusader to the west gate.
I shoved his shoulder. "You gonna miss being so hands on with everything?"
"Bah! Just because I'm old don't mean I'm sentimental."
"Fair enough. But about that old part—you sure your knees can handle the march?"
The buildmaster scoffed. "Kids these days. No respect! I oughta shove this arquebus right up—"
Izzy approached, growing cautious as she saw our faces. "Everyone packed?" she asked. It was an ice breaker to defuse hostilities, but it wasn't necessary. Trafford was the saltiest grump around. To him, giving someone a hard time was just fun amongst friends.