Life Reset_EvP_Environment vs. Player

by Shemer Kuznits

  “It’s not the same as crafting weapons,” Kadoc chimed in, “but it’s good metalworking experience.”

  “Yes,” Baja nodded his consent.

  I focused on them briefly, noting that both their respective smithing skills had already reached level 10 and were on the verge of breaking into the Apprentice ranks.

  “Good job, everyone. We have started mobilizing; I’ll need you to begin mass-producing weapons and armor for the troops.”

  “We still need a dedicated workshop for each of us,” Kadoc said. “Barzel has been very accommodating, letting us use his forge and anvil, but this equipment is meant for tool crafting. Our work requires more advanced equipment.”

  I took out the high-steel tools we had recovered from the Ogre fort’s smithy and laid them on the table. “Tools like these?”

  The three smiths’ eyes bulged as they inspected the magnificent, gleaming instruments.

  “That … those are dwarven made!” Baja exclaimed. “You raided one of their strongholds and looted their forges?” He sounded impressed.

  “Err … something like that,” I said evasively. I didn’t want to disappoint my clanmates with the truth. “These should help produce better items, right?”

  “Yes, Dread Totem,” Kadoc answered. “These will help immensely. However, we still need proper workshops. The smithy’s forge is simply not strong enough to endure the process of crafting good-quality weapons and armor.”

  “I see …” I had hoped the tools I’d found would make these buildings obsolete, but it looked like there was no way around it. “We will build your workshops as soon as the Dark Temple is finished. In the meantime, is there anything you can do to prepare for that?”

  The two specialized goblins nodded. “We can start by making the base metal sheets, bracings, and sword grips. Those can be obtained with the tools we have here.”

  Barzel cleared his throat. “That raises another problem, Dread Totem.”

  There was always something. “Yes?”

  “Our metal stores are quite low, I’m afraid. Our two miners produce just enough for me to create enough tools for everyone and supply the needed materials for construction, but if you want us to mass-produce weapons and armor, we will need much more metal. And stronger metal, too. We mostly used tin and copper to create bronze items. We have very little iron, which we use sparingly.”

  I sighed. “I understand. I’ll take care of it.”

  Well, that was what the Export Office was for, and there was no time like the present. I opened the Settlement Interface and navigated to ‘Export Office.’ I set the filter of desired goods to ‘metal’ and a list opened: tin, copper, bronze, iron, steel, high steel …

  “I assume high-steel will bring the best results?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid that we cannot work such an advanced metal yet,” Barzel said.

  “So … steel?”

  “It would be the best for now, however, –”

  I prepared myself mentally for another obstacle …

  “– as we have plenty of coal, we can produce steel on our own, provided we have enough iron.”

  Hmmm, good news for a change. I brightened up. “You got it.”

  I selected ‘iron’ from the list.

  Select a resource to trade for [iron]

  Resource

  Available Amount

  Exchange Rate

  Gathered Ingredients

  Arrows

  Rabbit Pelts

  Lumber

  …

  390

  545

  443

  382

  …

  30

  100

  40

  3

  …

  Just as I hoped, lumber proved to be the ideal currency when dealing with the gremlin market. “How much iron will you need?”

  “A standard sword requires five ingots,” Kadoc said.

  “And armor and shields can take ten to 20 ingots, depends on how thick you want it,” Baja added.

  In order to equip my current troops, I’ll need to bring in about 300 iron ingots. I only had enough lumber for about 120 units of iron, and I didn’t want to waste it all at once, so I ordered 60 ingots for now. My smiths wouldn’t be able to make much headway without their workshops anyway.

  As things stood right now, I should bring in more than two extra lumberjacks. After summoning all the soldiers, my food stores were nearly depleted; recruiting more goblins wouldn’t leave us any reserves. Ah, what are 60 more units of basic food? I gave a mental shrug, opened the Breeder’s Den Interface and queued in two extra lumberjacks. I checked our daily production status and saw that our updated lumber daily yield was 137. Not half bad.

  While I fiddled with the interface, I noticed that all the new troops were now summoned, so I left the smithy and made my way to the shrine.

  Instead of walking through the graveled roads, I took the direct route, cutting through the open valley.

  I found myself passing by the two deadbeat farmers. They were straining to pull the plow I had brought. Looks like Barzel managed to fix it. I stopped to observe their progress.

  The two goblins were giving their all against the heavy plow, but it moved at a snail’s speed. Despite that, they left deep grooves in the ground behind them. I really hoped the new equipment would do the trick.

  A short walk later, I arrived at the area below the shrine.

  Kuzai was waiting for me with new recruits. Twenty hobgoblins stood in three ordered lines behind him, and behind them towered the three massive Infernal Ogres.

  This was an impressive force, and it was all thanks to Tal for gifting me with the Breeder’s Den from the start.

  For a moment, I wondered how ‘normal’ goblin clans recruited their warriors without having access to such a structure, but I understood the answer straight away. Kaedric had already explained it to me: The goblin chief doubled as the clan ‘stallion’ and sired new warriors. For a split second, I had a vivid image of what it would be like but banished the thought from my mind. I was not prepared to shoulder that aspect of being a goblin chief. Despite the obvious misgiving, it was inefficient. Goblin warriors were vastly inferior to their hobgoblin kin.

  As I surveyed my new troops, I realized that all of the hobgoblins were level 4 straight out of the production line. I did not expect that. That explains how all the hob soldiers we encountered before were between level 4 and 6, I realized with a start. I had made the right call by not using goblin soldiers anymore. The amount of energy I saved by not having to level them up was significant.

  None of the new troops had any weapons and they all wore simple loincloths. That will have to be corrected, I mused. After the ceremony.

  I climbed the ladder up to Totem’s Watch and looked at the gathered mob below. Then I walked over to the shrine and drew my black bone dagger.

  Now that I had my new troops, it was time to sacrifice them.

  “Let us begin.”

  23 – Preaching to the Choir

  I stared tiredly at the last hobgoblin soldier. The bloody remains of eight hobs and one Ogre pooled at my feet. The Ogre explosion was particularly gory, I remembered with a shudder. I could still taste the piece of brain that somehow managed to land in my mouth. Unsurprisingly, it was bland.

  Their sacrifice was unfortunate but necessary. It was just the side effect of what I was really after – intelligent, resurrectable soldiers.

  One by one, I beckoned my soldiers to lean over the shrine. Once prostrate, I granted them the Lucky Bastard skill. Those that survived were seeded with VIs and adopted the name I had given them. Those that didn’t were offered as tributes to Nihilator, granting me quadruple Faith Points and a void crystal. So they too served the clan in a way.

  “Come here, let’s finish this,” I said tiredly to the last hob. The mindless creature came without hesitation and lay on top of the shrine, apathetic to the blood and gore that covered it.

  I steadied the
dagger hovering in the air above him, poised to strike.

  “Your name is …err …” After choosing a dozen names already, my brain was a bit addled. The only thing that came to mind was “Blemtoff. Your name is Blemtoff, and you’re … uh … always striving to be the best at … um … dual axe fighting.” I finished the short ceremony by granting him the Lucky Bastard skill.

  Blemtoff blinked a few times, and his dull expression transformed into one full of wonder that morphed into determination.

  I sighed with relief and called the hovering dagger back to my belt. I was spared from having to sacrifice him as well.

  So far the survival rate was only about 60 percent. Two of the three Ogres and 12 of the 20 hobs had survived the rite. I had expected better results.

  The first time I did this, only three of ten hobs died. Why did the success rate drop? I wondered. My own Lucky Bastard skill had improved since last time, so I should have had fewer casualties. I needed every strong arm I could get to fight for the clan’s survival. This didn’t make sense.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Vic was once again in his purple goblin shape sitting on a small boulder and watching the show. “The hobgoblins you brought from the Raider’s Camp experienced life more fully. They fought by your side and bled for the clan. Their personalities were better prepared for the VI seeding process. These guys were just clean slates. All they ever experienced was the interior of the Breeder’s Den. Honestly, 60 percent survival is huge. Your Lucky Bastard skill rose by four points in the last hour alone.”

  “I guess that explains it,” I said, wiping spattered blood from my brow.

  Blemtoff stood and bowed. “May I report for duty, Dread Totem?”

  I gestured dismissively. “Yeah, sure, join the others below.”

  “Thank you, Dread Totem.” The hobgoblin went down the ladder muttering to himself, “Must obtain two axes …”

  I took a few steps gingerly, and my legs wobbled. Though it was no doubt necessary, this had been a trying experience. I walked slowly to the edge of the shelf and looked down at my assembled forces below. The two Infernal Ogres towered over the dozen hobgoblins. I had more than doubled my fighting forces. And I was just getting started.

  “Welcome to the GreenPiece Clan,” I began. “You are to be our protectors, our guardians, and the blade that strikes against our enemies. Serve me and the clan well, fight as long as there is a drop of blood in your veins, and I promise you right here, your death will not be a permanent one. Serve well, and you will always come back to fight another day. To the GreenPiece Clan!”

  “To the GreenPiece Clan!” they all shouted in unison, raising their hands, the Ogres cheering a second behind the more intelligent hobs.

  “Good. This is Bob, he is your superior officer.” I motioned at the hob lieutenant standing nearby. “Rhynorn is … just stay out of his way. Report to the barracks and claim your bunk. Tomorrow you will begin your training. Dismissed.”

  “Yes, Dread Totem!” they answered together and dispersed, heading for the barracks.

  I felt too mentally drained to use my magic to teleport down. Bob remained behind, waiting patiently while I descended the ladder.

  “These look promising,” he said approvingly. “Each one unique in his own way.”

  “I need you to oversee their training,” I said. “Get them into shape as quickly as possible. We’re going hunting in a few days. I want to see how they hold up in real combat.”

  “Of course, Dread Totem.” Bob bowed his head. “I will make sure to impress upon our trainers the importance of rigorous training.” He paused, then said, “Actually, that is the only kind of training my people know. In hobgoblin society, you either learn fast or you die. There is no place for weaklings.”

  I grinned tiredly. “That’s why your people are the clan’s blade while mine are the cogs in the machine that … uh … You fight, we build.”

  The hob lieutenant stared at me stoically.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “with these new troops, we should have enough soldiers to deploy regular patrols.” The recent murders of two of my workers showed me how vulnerable we were to an inside attack. “If they’re not sleeping or training, I want the soldiers patrolling the settlement around the clock.”

  “Of course, I shall start sending two hob patrols immediately, Dread Totem.”

  With a little luck, these measures would be enough of a deterrent for any other would-be goblin murderers.

  I looked up. The skies were getting brighter by the minute. It would by daylight soon. And shortly after that … showtime.

  I walked into my house, glad it was close by. Tempest was lying on the ground in front of the door, his eyes following me as I stepped inside. Tika still hadn’t returned from her daily hunt. She was a late sleeper and a late riser. I dropped to my furs and was out within seconds.

  ***

  Someone nudged me gently, waking me up. I opened my eyes blearily. Tika.

  Light shone through the cracks in the walls. The sun was still up. “Is it time?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

  My beautiful woman nodded. “Kaedric knocks, you not hear. He say tell you, it is time.”

  I stood and stretched. “Will you please go help Kaedric? I want everyone in the clan to assemble below Totem’s Watch, the travelers too.”

  She nodded and went to the door. “Can always hunt later.” She gave me a coy smile. “Maybe catch a nice juicy Totem.”

  I chuckled and moved to my table. I had some time before everyone gathered at Totem’s Watch. Today was to mark a new era for the clan and its guests. I didn’t want to break the suspense. Timing was important.

  I mentally went through the steps I had to accomplish, distractedly picking up a piece of fruit from a bowl on the table.

  While I was munching, I decided to check my character sheet. It had been a long while since I last viewed it, mostly since I didn’t have to. I could instantly recall any piece of information I wanted. But I had a little time to kill and I sort of missed seeing everything laid out nicely in front of me.

  Title: Dread Totem

  Level: 26, (70%)

  Race: Monster Race [Goblin]

  Type: Boss II [Totem]

  Religion: The Cult of Nihilator

  Attributes:

  Physical: 3

  Mental: 30

  Social: 1

  Pools & Resistances:

  Hit Points: 606

  Mana: 1,231

  Armor: 2

  Mental Resistance: 60%

  Skills:

  Lucky Bastard: 31 (90%) Ⓑ

  Analyze: 108 (30%)

  Tracking: 12 (29%)

  War Party Leader: 11 [16](10%)

  Mana Infusion: 23 (50%) Ⓑ

  Quest Giver: 17 (80%)

  Runecraft: 24 (40%)

  Barter: 12 (0%)

  Governor: 8 (0%)

  Spell Skills:

  Dark Mana: 40 (50%) Ⓑ

  Drilling Arrow: 24 (80%) Ⓑ

  Mana Shield: 27 (0%)

  Blood Wrath: 31 (0%)

  Heal Followers: 11 (0%)

  Mana Drain: 10 (92%) Ⓑ

  Shadow Web: 20 (90%)

  Shadow Hound: 20(0%)

  Shadow Teleport: 10 (30%)

  Dark Protection: 6 (0%)

  Traits:

  Goblinoid: (+1 Physical, -1 Social)

  Quick Learner: +20%

  Boss Boon II: (10 HP & 20 MP per level; Nihilator’s Sanction)

  Soul Companion: Vic

  Shadow-Touched

  Mind Over Body: (-50% to pain, +50% Mental Resist)

  Buffs:

  Lyrical Song: (+10% Mental Resist, +5% Luck)

  I inspected my stats closely. At only level 26, I had the HP equivalent of a level 50 fighter and the MP of a level 120 mage.

  Simply put, I was a monster. I chuckled at the pun.

  My skills and spells, however, were far weaker and more befitting my level. That’s the whole idea of being a boss, I mused. My fighting
abilities were slightly improved while my survivability was vastly higher than it would be otherwise.

  After all, lower-tier bosses existed to provide a challenge to players. That meant they had to last long enough to make it interesting while not being inordinately strong for their level. Something I strived strongly to change.

  Being a boss was a powerful boon, but not my only trump card. Thanks to the shrine back at the Ogre fort, I boosted my Dark Mana skill to its maximum for my level. It was the foundation of my real power and what separated me from other bosses. It was my ticket to salvation.

 

  “Thanks, Vic.”

  ***

  I stood on the edge of Totem’s Watch. The open field below me was well-lit by the midday sun and packed full with goblins, hobgoblins, Ogres, and over a dozen travelers. Not to mention at least 20 foblins. Over a hundred people in total. My little clan was growing rapidly.

  There were signs of recent activity where I stood. Logs, metal, and glass were stacked in neat piles in the limited space. The previously uneven stone ground was flattened. Holes had been drilled for laying foundations. My Dark Temple’s construction was well on its way, but it was not fast enough.

  Everyone was looking up at me expectantly.

  A shiver ran down my spine when I saw some adventurers eyeing and measuring me with the steady, steely gaze of professionals. I needed them on my side.

  I cleared my throat. “Welcome, GreenPiece members and guests,” I began, pausing to organize my thoughts. “This clan had a rough beginning. We survived a vicious raid and became refugees, looking for a place to rest our heads. We found safety in this valley but were continuously hunted.” I surveyed the faces below. “But together, we faced our enemies and prevailed, raising a prosperous and growing settlement.”

  There were murmurs of assent and a few puzzled looks from the players who were oblivious to the clan’s history.

  “Now we face a whole new, even graver, danger,” I continued, drawing their gazes back to me. ”The … travelers, have discovered our location. As we speak, they are preparing their assault on us.” An even louder murmur followed, and many of my clansmen wore worried expressions. “But we also have the means to protect ourselves now.” I gestured at the dozen new hobgoblins standing rigidly in tight formation and the two hulking Ogres beside them. “These recruits are the first of many more to come. But that is not all. We have faith on our side.”