by Charles Dean
“As for you, Edward, I need you to report back to your commanding officer, Breht, for further training. We can’t have you shaming us in the next battle with such a low kill count,” Alex said and dismissed the soldier.
“As you command.” Edward didn’t put up an argument, and a moment later, his Blue-Drake could be seen flying back in the direction he had descended from.
“That’s your cue. Go on out.” Minx nudged Darwin.
Darwin stood up and started walking towards the gate before Minx stopped him. “No, no, they’re on the wall platform. Did you think they were standing out there with the rabble? No one would be able to see them well. Come on, Darwin, don’t be silly,” Minx demanded.
Aren’t you being a bit hypocritical asking me not to be silly? Darwin laughed to himself as he changed directions and ascended the stairs. When he got to the top, he found himself a bit dumbfounded. There, standing below, was at the very least four hundred players, all in their underwear, and staring up at him. Don’t stutter, he teased himself. Any mistake or slip of the tongue would not only cause him a bit of humiliation, but might also reveal the fact that he wasn’t an NPC to the hordes that had followed him expecting endless loot and quests.
“Alex, is this the rabble you disturbed me for?” He looked over at the stalwart commander and then did his best to furrow his brow and look menacing as he cast his gaze over the assembled players. “Do you need me to kill them all for you, show you how it’s-- Wait . . .” he paused, doing his best to dramatize his reaction. “I know that one. That is my new pet dog, a fierce warrior among his people.”
“He’s not here to be a pet, Great Lord Darwin. He claims he is here to serve as a soldier in the front lines of our conquest,” Alex said, doing a half-bow with his right arm folded in front of him.
Kitchens, noticing Alex’s gesture, copied it as quickly as possible. “Indeed, we should reward his bravery, Great Lord Darwin, not tarnish his name for it,” he said.
Darwin pretended to take a moment to think. “And what about the others? Are they also here to fight?”
“Yes, your Lordship.” Alex maintained his bow, still not raising his head.
“Are they capable?” Darwin asked, knowing they were all probably just as talented, if not more so, as the people he was going to pit them against.
“We don’t know, your Lordship. They might be, but until we test them with a trial by fire, how can we dare let them carry the banner of those born in the lava pits of the underworld?”
The pits of the underworld? Darwin almost snickered at how serious Alex’s express was while he said that. How does he stay in character? And where does he get these ridiculous lines? “Indeed, but these men, these women before us, they are blessed! Today, we will take our first steps in a campaign of destruction that will shake the very foundation of this world. Does that excite you?” Darwin said, turning to the crowd. “Do you hunger to mark your name in the Book of Death as the author of countless entries?”
The crowd, mostly mute up until then, actually responded with a cheer. It was weak, and uncertain at first, but it was definitely a cheer.
“Is that the extent of your spirit? Are you farmers being offered a discount on fertilizer or men being offered a chance at life?” Darwin tried to draw out a bigger response. If there was anything he had learned from the job so far, it was that if people thought they should be happy or excited about something, they would be. The throng gave a second, heartier cheer. “That’s more like it. What trial have you given them?”
“They have been tasked with killing a hundred men each,” Alex said, still maintaining the bow.
“Raise your head, you two. You’ve both done well,” Darwin said, noticing that the bow Alex and Kitchens were giving him wasn’t likely to disappear anytime soon. A king in a play is still a king for a day, he thought to himself, remembering he had to be aware of every part the king had to play. “As for this lot, I think a hundred might be asking too much of them. After all, they aren’t Demons yet, are they? Instead, register them in groups of ten. Each group of ten must reach, at the minimum, a hundred kills before they will be accepted as a Demon. But . . . The first group to reach a hundred kills and the group with the most kills at the end of each day shall be given Blue-Drakes to ride and allowed to choose from some of the finest weapons and armor.”
“But, sir, what about the soldiers that don’t make the kill count or fail to get the most kills?” Alex asked, faking a sincere emotional concern for the people below.
“Then they can either drop back to the status of recruits and try again or wait for a chance to earn the honor of flying the dragons in future combat. I want to make one thing clear: You are not applying as individuals. You’re applying as groups! I don’t want to see any more than ten people in a group, but, if you think you can handle the burden with just one partner, then so be it. As for the rest of the details . . . Well, Alex, bring them their clothes and their weapons. They will need them. Any minute now, another wave of fools is going to try to crush me. That will provide the perfect opportunity for you to go out and spread my name. Kill! Honor me as the Demon King through blood and victory! Come back as a victor, or come back as a corpse!”
“Great Lord Darwin, you haven’t told them who to attack other than those that are trying to attack us. Are there any other targets?”
“There are, Alex. Order them to attack every soldier from Peh-Ting Zhou to Jotunnheim. Order them to murder and ransack all who refuse to fly our banner or seek our shelter. Send an emissary to each town and extend our offer of mercy and allegiance, for soon we will lay siege upon their lands and claim them as our own! Those who refuse to stand side by side with us on these hallowed grounds as glorious Demons shall be forced to lay underneath it as worm-eaten warnings of the coming tides of war!” Darwin knew what he was saying was so cheesy it could put the pictures on a pizza advertisement to shame, but he had to keep going. This was the character he crafted, and it demanded the type of over-the-top cheese that made top fondue offers look like amateur hour. “Are you with me?”
Most of them cheered. There were some that glanced nervously from side to side, likely uncomfortable at the idea the quest wasn’t an easy one to complete and that not everyone would get their own Blue-Drake. The idea of a competitive quest may drive some people to spend every waking hour trying to farm the right victory, but to others, it was an uncomfortable itch they hated having to scratch.
“Go! Paint the world red! When you put your groups together and register as part of the StormGuard Alliance, General Alex will give you targets. I want to know that Peh-Ting Zhou, that Jotunnheim, and the world is mine. Do not disappoint me!” Darwin turned around and jumped from the top of the wall to the ground below. It might have been his imagination, but, for some reason, as his odd little recruitment speech ended, he could almost feel Stephanie smiling at him even though she was nowhere to be seen. Is this also part of your plan? he wondered, glancing over to look at Valerie’s red eyes one more time before giving the rest of his crew a smile and a wink to let them know: We did it. We pulled it off.
Due to the growth of your faction, you have been awarded with the Rank 1 Dread Commander Ability: Soul Farmer’s Tribute
Soul Farmer’s Tribute: Whenever a player under the Dread Commander’s charge kills another player, 0.1% of the EXP gained via the killing or quest turn-ins related to the killing is awarded as tribute to the Dread Commander.
A good general will pay the price for his troops’ mistakes. A great general will reap the rewards of their victories.
Chapter 7 – Coming Clean Feels Dirty
Kass:
Kass’s mouth almost fell open as she listened to the end of Darwin’s introduction speech. Take over Jotunnheim? Conquer Peh-Ting Zhou? What is he talking about? We’re not an aggressive military power. We’re just players trying to keep some NPCs safe from death. Wouldn’t this type of conquest cause even more NPCs to die? She couldn’t make heads or tails of it and found
herself feeling rather catawampus.
“Conquering the world of Tiqpa kind of sounds exciting, doesn’t it?” Daniel, who was sitting next to Kass as they listened in on the conversation, asked Mclean.
“Conquer Tiqpa, eliminate heathens, save red-eyes . . . Does it really make a difference? Knife goes in, knife comes out, time for snacks in between,” Mclean replied with disturbing equanimity, twirling her knife as she spoke.
“Dad says Darwin is fire. Fire needs to burn more, right? Burn the world! Maybe he is a Demon king . . . Burn burn!” Minx seemed to have temporarily gone full pyro as her eyes lit up at the idea of incinerating things.
“If your dad is water, and Darwin is fire, does he ever actually say what you are?” Kass looked over at Minx. Secretly, she hoped that if Kitchens gave her an element, she would be something like water or something close to ice. Ice was by far the most interesting.
“Uh huh!” Minx nodded, “He did! He did!”
“So? What are you?” Kass asked after a few moments of failed waiting for Minx to finish the answer.
“I am shhh shhh, mighty shhh of shhhushington shhhhhire.” Minx giggled with Daniel and Mclean joining in.
How is it that everyone can have a philosophical debate but me, and when I try to have one, I just get laughed at? Kass felt a little sore from the reaction. She had genuinely wanted to know what was going on.
“Soz’ Kass,” --Minx frowned with her lips while still smiling with her eyes-- “it’s just you ask what I am because you want me to tell you what you are,” Minx said to Kass’s surprise, and likely Daniel’s and Mclean’s too given their faces. “If you want to know what dad says you are, why not just ask?”
Kass, feeling rather defensive at having been called out on her intentions, felt like she was backed into a corner. “Umm . . . but . . . I actually did want to know what element your dad says you are,” she said, doing her best to lie. She hoped her flushed cheeks and distraught eyes didn’t give away her shameful embarrassment at having been singled out as the selfish one.
“Well, that’s probably for the best then ‘cause I don’t know what you are. Dad doesn’t talk about you. He just talks about Darwin this or Darwin that or ‘Darwin pants’d a snake and found two legs.’” Minx frowned.
Kass could definitely feel some resentment at the two bonding, even if she had always imagined it was something Minx was encouraging. So that explains the hostility, Kass hoped. I guess that’s just how things work. Even if you want someone to have a relationship outside of the one they have with you, it doesn’t mean you won’t still occasionally feel jealous. I remember when my dad started working longer hours on Tiqpa and coming home later than ever. I probably lashed out too, but at least I had other friends. The only people Minx has to talk to as friends are a group of strangers she met a few days ago. God, I can’t imagine how frustrating it is for her wanting to see her Dad have other friends but also not wanting to lose her monopoly on his time. Kass did her best to empathize, ignoring the barbs from Minx. “Well, forget what your dad says you are. What do you think you are? Maybe, since you’re so down to earth, you like that element? Or, perhaps, since you flow with everything, you are like water?” Kass took a few guesses, trying to lead Minx into talking about herself, partially because she felt bad about only asking the kid questions so she could put the subject matter spotlight on herself, but also because she felt a little pity for her.
“Well . . . I’ve always wanted to be fire like Darwin, so I can burn things and be rash and aggressive! Then I wouldn’t have to worry about being so passive and letting people get away with being mean, but I ended up with the wishy washy air like you. It’s too bad too. I really wish I were stronger, that I could just do the right thing like Darwin.” Minx frowned.
Is that because of bullying? Does she act too passive when people pressure her? Maybe she uses her element as an excuse for her insecurities. Kass found herself worrying more and more about the young woman, not knowing what ‘Minx the Linx’ might have suffered in the past without saying anything or acting in a way to stand up for herself. I understand, she wanted to say empathetically, I understand that feeling helpless to stop it is sometimes worse than the abuse.
“What about me, Minx?” Daniel asked, eyebrow raised.
“Oh, that’s easy! You’re water, like, wooooshhhhh! Aqua-Dan! Oh, and you!” Minx looked over at Mclean, “You’re earth. You’re all Mcgrumblalumblaclean. Rigid like a stone in your thinking . . . and probably eating. You would eat a stone if it tasted good, wouldn’t you?”
Mclean looked up and opened her mouth as if she were going to protest but stopped and closed it slowly. Then, without a single hint of protest, she just asked for clarification. “Tastes good like steak or like buttered rice? Also, how did I find out the stone tastes good? What if every stone but the ones I’ve tasted before tasted like steak, and the one I tried was just too dirty to be flavorful?”
Kass blinked. Other than the one you’ve tried before? You’ve actually tried to eat a stone before? Kass’s mind reeled a bit in shock. Who does that? How were you raised that this idea even seemed acceptable? She was half-tempted to pursue the question, but decided that a rock not tasting good was at least some semblance of normalcy on an otherwise rather bizarre idea.
“Wait . . . if Mclean is earth, and she ate dirt, would that be like some sort of elemental cannibalism?” Daniel asked, pondering the idea.
“Is cannibalism bad?” Mclean asked. Daniel and Minx, who were both previously sitting next to her, began to slowly scooch away and create some distance between them and their foodie friend. The stone eating comment might not have been that off, but the cannibalism comment made Kass shiver a bit. “No, really,” Mclean pressed, “is it really that awful? Would you rather have some gross bugs eat you when you die, or would you rather your family absorb your essence in some sort of banana soup concoction?”
“Can we go with neither? Why not let ourselves turn into pretty flowers or something?” Kass cringed at the idea of bugs eating her corpse after she passed away. Sure, it was likely to happen, but it didn’t mean she had to think about it.
“I heard humans taste like veal, the best cut of fattened calves, when they die.” Mclean was starting to make everyone visibly nervous. “I figure that if I can justify eating a cow--which is one of the best meats to eat, mind you--then why can’t I justify eating a person after he dies? It’s not like the fatted calf wasn’t smart or have emotions or whatnot. It’s not like the person will know you did it. The only people who will raise a brouhaha are the ones you aren’t eating.”
“I’m going to pretend this topic never came up and move back to the element one,” Daniel said. “What about Valerie?”
Valerie, who had just been observing the dialogue until now, perked up. “Me? Oh no, let’s not do the online personality quiz games with me.”
“Are you worried you’ll get two distinctly different answers?” Daniel asked. “One from yesterday and another from this morning?”
“I’m not that different, am I?” Valerie feigned ignorance. Even though her acting skills were pretty good, the smile breaking across her face gave away the fact that she knew exactly what they were talking about.
“Uh, yeah, I’d say so,” Daniel laughed. It was a bit of an awkward laugh, unmetered and stumbling, but it still eased the tension. “But I wouldn’t say it’s for the worse. You did get us out of a pickle.”
“I’m just wondering how you switched races. Did a game prompt come up? Did you do a quest for Alex that we don’t know about?” Kass asked, looking at Valerie’s red eyes. If I ended up with eyes like that, would I have to wear contacts so I didn’t end up looking like an albino? Can you even wear contacts in game?
“So is every Demon perfectly fit with pale skin, red eyes and black hair?” Daniel mused aloud, scratching his chin.
“I guess. I don't know,” Valerie answered and then paused. “Oh! Yeah, I never thought about that.” Valerie nodded in agreement w
ith Daniel’s point, which apparently she figured out but didn't feel like explaining to the rest of the group. “That would be a pain.”
“Right? If one of them held up a store in an all-Demon city, there would be no way to describe them even if they didn't wear a mask,” Daniel mused to himself. “‘Well, you see, officer, he was tall and in good shape with red eyes, black hair and a pale face.’ ‘You’ve been very helpful. Thank you greatly, citizen.’”
“What about cheekbones?” Moles? Noses? Jawlines? Kass offered. “I mean, there has to be some way they do it in Asia, right? Because I'm pretty sure that, for a long time, most Chinese cities only had one predominant hair and eye color.”
“Even Slavic cities were most likely just blonde with blue eyes until the traveling began,” McLean suggested.
“Mmhmm. But according to Daniel, if you wanted to rob someone, all you'd need is artificially high cheeks from putty, a wig, contacts and platform style shoes,” Minx looked far more pensive than usual. “Would that work?”
Kass’s jaw dropped a bit “Oh God, you're not gonna blame us for giving you the idea if you rob a bank, are you? I really don't want to be stabbed in my sleep by your dad.”
Minx giggled for a moment. “He'd make sure to do it while you're awake.”
There we go. Now you're having fun again, Kass thought. No sooner had the mood finally returned than so did Darwin with Kitchens. “Hey!” she called out to him. “How'd it go?” When did you decide that our guild needs to murder even more NPCs just so we can take over Tiqpa? Despite wanting to ask, she refrained from saying aloud. Ever since their talk on the boat, his transformation and the dinner with Charles, she had come to realize that he probably had a lot more going on in his head than she knew about. Jumping to conclusions might not be in anyone's best interest.
“So we’re conquering Peh-Ting Zhou and Jotunnheim?” Daniel asked first before Darwin could even respond.