The Hobgoblin Riot: Dominion of Blades Book 2: A LitRPG Adventure

by Matt Dinniman

  “What did they catch?” I asked.

  Popper shrugged. “He says they got several more of those peluda monsters, both the fire type and the electrical type. Nothing else I don’t think.”

  I looked back over my shoulder at the castle, thinking of the wark-ee creature. “Remember the animated armor in the hallway? Nale said it came from a powerful mage. But we didn’t find anything like that in there.”

  “That’s animation magic,” Gretchen said. “It’s the work of either a harbinger or one of the dark cleric subclasses.”

  “Who knows,” Popper said. “Bingo’s crew cleaned the place out pretty good. For all the hype, it’s not that great of a dungeon. The highlight was that thing you got and a couple enchanted weapons, which we have to get identified.” He indicated his bag. “Plus that enchanted poleax from the prince.”

  “Anyway,” he continued, “while I explore the castle, your majesty and Bingo are going to go out to the Menagerie and talk to the people there and see what their story is. I want Gretchen to take a squadron over to investigate this church, and to hopefully get a map with all the locations of the temples in the city. With that, we can hunt down this chief hobgoblin and end his miserable life.”

  “Let’s have Gretchen go to the Menagerie. I want to go to the church,” I said.

  “Yeah, but if those guys locked up really are white jackets, having their new boss show up will make sure they do what we want them to do,” Popper said.

  I nodded. He was right, but I didn’t care. “No. I want to do the church.”

  He looked to Gretchen, who shrugged. I was surprised at how quickly and efficiently Popper had taken to this leadership role.

  “Okay then. Also, I’ve already sent out Spritz the astound to walk the perimeter and to fix any broken shit she can find using her rock voodoo. Hopefully that’ll level her up some. Granger and the girls are going to Oliver the beastmaster to drop off the traps and then Granger’ll join me for the castle exploration. The three girls and their boyfriend can go with Gretchen to the Menagerie. After that, we’re going to have to figure out how to get as many bodies as possible into the city to man these towers.”

  I’d already spent some time studying the map of the spiral. I needed to do it some more. The way we set up the defenses depended wholly on how many bodies we had. I also had some ideas for new traps.

  Popper clapped his hands together. “Okay guys, chop chop! Let’s get moving. This place is my responsibility, and I ain’t letting anyone down.”

  Gretchen Note 1

  I haven’t read anything Jonah has written yet, but I imagine anyone who reads it will think I’m nothing but the boring, old, alcoholic lesbian who they only keep around because she knows how to throw a spear like some kind of one-note, Sapphic warrior.

  I’m not. Oh no. I’m more. I’m a coward. I am a thief. A fraud, a liar. And more. So much more.

  But that’s not why we’re here, is it? This isn’t the Melinda story or even the Gretchen story. Not yet.

  After we rested, sleeping in short shifts, I came out to find both Popper and Jonah in the defense cockpit, hard at work. Popper scribbled furiously in his notebook, ever-present cigarette dangling from his mouth, suddenly enthusiastic about making a record of everything that had happened here. He’d changed so much these past few days. The responsibility of being in charge does that to people. Some rise to the occasion, finding strength they didn’t know they had. Both Popper and Jonah were strong like that.

  Others crumbled.

  Jonah had torn out a page from his notebook and was touching each part of the spiral in turn, talking quietly with Spritz the astound and Bingo as they looked over the map. Jonah wrote note after note, muttering about finding a sapper to join the party.

  Popper and Jonah looked up as I entered the room.

  “Oh, good,” Popper said. “You ready?”

  I nodded, looking up at Bingo. The massive gorcupine still unnerved me. The other gorcupine, Winston, looked at me and bared his teeth. He’d done that multiple times now, and I still couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be an endearing or a malicious look.

  I had been killed by Winston once, in the arena. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel the javelins pierce me. I could feel the poison wash over me. I remember my shame at being relieved as I died that last time. At least it’s not your responsibility anymore.

  I’d thought the same thing as I drove to Texas from Toronto, my foot jammed to the floor. I’d driven the car myself, despite not having a license. I’d rewired the Toyota, turning it from a selfie to a hybrid. I hadn’t been stopped. I made the 30-hour trip in 20. I’d left the car in the visitor’s lot of the Space X center.

  “I just talked to Raj,” Popper was saying. “I don’t know if you saw. It looks like wave two will be several thousand of the tormented mixed with those fucked-up lesser moles, the ones with the weird mouths.”

  “The moles are hard to hit,” I said, remembering the last time I had to fight them. The lion-sized creatures burrowed away the moment you tried to attack them, only to pop out of the ground behind or underneath you. “If what Bingo was saying earlier is correct, and you can dig within the spiral path, they’ll burrow underground, making tunnels for the dwarves, keeping them safe from the towers.”

  Jonah smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m hoping they do.”

  * * *

  Bingo, Winston, and three half-ogres, including Vern, who wielded the biggest maul I’d ever seen, accompanied me on our short trip to the Menagerie. The three archer girls and their bard companion bounded ahead of us to “scout the route.” Chauncey the coypu also followed us, but he kept his distance, choosing to walk a few hundred feet behind us. He still did not like being in the company of Bingo. I rode upon Bruce Bruce, who trembled with excitement.

  “This is good,” Bruce Bruce said as we crossed the small bridge off the island. From there, we turned left down a wide street flanked with two large towers on either side. A massive, rock-hurling catapult sat upon two of the towers, and a round, Gatling-gun style weapon I’d never seen before sat upon the other two. “This is good,” he repeated. “We shall face these imprisoned beasts, and they shall see our strength, and they will quiver like little children. Do not worry, fair Gretchen. If one of these beasts escapes, I shall claw and devour them for you. You are safe with Bruce Bruce.”

  Bingo loped along beside me, looking at Bruce Bruce like the bear was something stuck to his quills.

  I patted Bruce Bruce on the head. “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” I said.

  I’d become fond of the boastful bear. He was the only mount in the stables back in Harmony that had decent fighting stats. I was still unsure if I wanted to make the commitment of having him as a pet. Bears were beast-class mounts, which meant you could only make the leap from mount to pet after you’d killed at least 100 mobs together. We were currently at 68.

  He was a good fighter. I’d seen him in action. We’d fought snakeheads together on the outskirts of Harmony a few times. But he simply didn’t get along with Alice, though they seemed to finally be getting used to each other.

  If I made the commitment, he would gain several abilities. He’d become much stronger and would gain the ability to cast Heal once he hit level 20. As a mount, he didn’t actually have a level, but he’d gain one once the transformation was complete. He’d probably be around level 15, but he’d level up quickly until he matched my level of 26. At level 30, he’d gain the ability to regenerate. At 40, his speed would double. At 50, he’d gain the ability to cast Fear. At level 100, he’d gain the ability to cast Blink.

  They weren’t the greatest abilities—he was simply an uncommon mount, not an epic one like Alice, but they were all good, solid attributes. I could also choose to just keep him as a mount and get another, smaller pet. Jonah was planning on doing that so he could keep his ridiculous donkey mount. But if I didn’t convert Bruce Bruce to a pet, I’d lose him if he ever got killed.

  On
e of the three archer girls came skipping back from around the corner. What were their names again? Starr, Crystal, and Kitty Chapman. And the bard was Ace. At first I thought all three had the last name of Chapman, but it was just that third one—the broody one with the short hair—whose name was “Kitty Chapman.” Not Kitty. Kitty Chapman.

  The one who came back now was the sarcastic, talkative one with the side ponytail. Starr.

  “The Menagerie is coming up,” Starr said. She appeared to be chewing gum. “We scouted it out for ya, grams. Those pazuzu sure got a bee in their bonnet.”

  Bingo grunted. “Pazuzu are always upset about something.”

  “Did you just call me ‘grams?’” I asked.

  Starr rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to yell at me. Geez.” Starr reached down and patted Bruce Bruce on the head. “You’re like the cutest thing ever.” She turned and rushed back down the path toward her companions, slapping the butt of Vern as she passed. The half-ogre jumped two feet in the air in surprise.

  “She is a fine warrior,” Bruce Bruce said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  The Menagerie was a small, heavily-wooded park, with multiple twists and turns. At the center of the park was a large, glass pavilion one had to pass through. Twenty cages, ten on each side, stood under the glass awning.

  This was a difficult obstacle to get past. While the total number of monsters released usually wasn’t that many—the cages could only hold so much—it was the manner in which the trap deployed that usually caused the damage and chaos. The cages were placed, one after another, facing each other in close quarters. One could see the beasts in their cages, but they could not be touched or otherwise hurt while the doors were closed. The doors opened only when someone passed the far exit to the Menagerie. When triggered, the creatures all attacked at once, instantly mixing in with the party.

  If the runners cautiously sent just one person forward to spring the trap while the main group held back, the monsters would fill the tight space, creating a defensive position that was almost impossible to breach without mass casualties.

  Three towers overlooked the park, including one that cast Muzzle on the invaders, which temporarily stopped most mages from casting spells. The other two rained arrows on the Menagerie entrance, so runners holding back from assaulting the Menagerie were usually pin cushioned for their efforts.

  By the time most groups made it to this point, their party of several thousand runners were usually whittled down to a couple hundred. This last obstacle was where even the most advanced parties usually met their fate.

  The one time I had done it, there had been no gorcupine warriors guarding the Menagerie. But there had been pazuzu. The scorpion-tailed demons could fly, and they cut through us in seconds. The other cages, including one that held a rock troll and another filled with hundreds of pop leeches—bugs that would latch onto you and explode—decimated us further. It was only because there had been so many of us that I had made it.

  I entered the glass Menagerie now, walking in through the exit. Starr, Crystal, and Kitty Chapman stood in the middle of it all. Ace sat on the ground, his lute on his lap while he strummed a few chords. Crystal’s sprayed-out, big hair seemed to have gotten even poofier than it had been before. She tapped on the glass of one of the cages, waving to the occupants within.

  The cage they were facing was the one filled with humans. There were eight of them, all sitting on the ground in the cage, all looking at us with contempt. These were all white jackets, as we suspected, the remains of the missing battalion. Their uniforms were blackened and tattered, hanging on them in ribbons. Two texugo white jackets sat in their own cage next to the humans. Both appeared to be asleep. One of the sleeping badgers breathed heavily, like he was sick.

  I should have brought that healer.

  “I like that one,” Crystal said, pointing to one of the white jackets sitting on the ground, staring at her sullenly. He was a younger man with red hair and light eyes. She tapped on the glass again and waved.

  “That one looks a bit like Duff McKagan,” Starr said. “You know, when he got all old and stuff but still looked good.” She pointed to the oldest of the white jackets, a thin but strong-looking man with gray hair. The man stared straight at the young archer, his eyes burning a hole at her. “Ooh, but he’s kinda scary,” she added. “Pfft. Typical bass player. Can’t even be happy they let him in the band.”

  Behind me, the five pazuzu threw themselves against the glass, over and over. The six-foot, winged monsters screeched, their sharp, black claws scrabbling at the glass. I shuddered. Pazuzu were terrible, vicious monsters.

  A few cages down, the massive oblivion walrus stared at me solemnly. I looked at the enormous beast and it bared its fangs. I shivered.

  I turned to Chauncey as he pulled up, huffing and puffing. “I want you to open those two cages right now. The one with the humans and the texugo.”

  The small creature looked aghast. “But mademoiselle, shouldn’t you talk to them first? To make sure they haven’t gone feral, no? They seem feral to me, especially the texugo.”

  “Do it,” I said.

  Chauncey looked terrified. “Okay, but you must promise to protect me. That one there,” he pointed at the commander, “he has vowed to do great harm to me if he is ever set free. He is the Gray Misery, the famed commander. They say he always keeps his promises.”

  “Well I promise to do even worse harm to you if you don’t open it up right now,” I said, followed by a deep growl from both Bingo and Bruce Bruce at the same time. Chauncey squeaked and moved to a small panel recessed against the wall, waving his hand over it.

  I walked to the cage with the humans and shouted, “Form up, Commander. I’m setting you free.”

  The commander—the Gray Misery—nodded. He made a sharp command, and his men leaped into attention. In the cage next door, one of the texugo pulled himself to his feet. The other did not move.

  The two cage doors dropped. The commander shot out of the cage like a rocket, moving unnaturally fast. He reached to grab a shrieking Chauncey, but he was stopped only by Bingo holding out his arm to stop.

  “Hold your attack, commander!” I yelled.

  “Under what authority,” he snarled, rounding on me. “We were 250 men when we were captured. One hundred forty humans, 40 half-ogres, 21 dwarves, and the rest texugo. One by one, this one came, using that device to knock us out. He’d take one of us every other day, making a game of it. He reveled in it. First the half-ogres were gone, then the dwarves. Only two texugo left, only seven of my humans. He did this, and you expect me to hold my attack?”

  I was expecting this, and I’d already had a plan. I pulled up the War Events menu, and I arrowed each of the soldiers, giving the commander the rank of colonel, the highest I could give to an NPC. I could see now his real name was Regal Holder, and he was a level 84 warrior. He was a level 30 master with the spear, two levels above my 28. I gave all the others a triple-chevron rank of sergeant. If any needed to be promoted beyond that, I’d leave it up to Commander Holder.

  The commander raged at being arrowed, looking at me incredulously. I’d just put him below me in the chain of command, and he knew it.

  I cleared my throat. “I do it under the authority of King Jonah, liege of the Dominion and of Regent Poppy, commander of Castellane until it is fully liberated.”

  “Well, General,” he said, growling the words. “I humbly request permission to rip this little beast into pieces.”

  I eyed Chauncey, who cowered in the corner. I was tempted to just let them have him, but we needed him for now. We also needed this commander, so I had to compromise.

  “I am granting you permission to fulfill your promise,” I said.

  Chauncey squealed in terror.

  “But, you must wait until this upcoming campaign is over,” I added. “Then I will allow you to do what you will.”

  “I must protest, mademoiselle!” Chauncey said. “I was merely doing my job, feeding my p
eople!”

  “Very well,” Holder said, glaring. “My two men,” he said, indicating the two texugo. “They are ill. They can not survive on the water gruel we have been fed. They are both suffering from a sickness unique to their race. They must have meat, or they will not survive the day.”

  Bingo picked up Chauncey, who continued to cry with horror, and he plucked the coypu’s arm right off, as easily if he’d been plucking an orange from a tree. Bingo tossed the small arm to the commander.

  “Meat,” Bingo said.

  We all just stared at Bingo for several moments, including Chauncey, who appeared so dumbfounded at what just happened that it didn’t yet register his arm had been ripped off. Commander Holder gave the arm to one of his men, who in turn rushed into the cage to the texugo.

  “That was the most metal thing I’ve ever seen,” Kitty Chapman said.

  Popper Note 17

  Wave 2 of 5

  War Party Admin> Warning! Your city has been invaded by a roving horde of monsters! <2,500 of the Tormented. 300 Lesser Moles.> They are now traveling the spiral path. Proceed immediately to the defense cockpit!

  War Party> The city is under attack.

  War Party> Spiral systems arming.

  War Party> All defenders proceed immediately to your assigned towers.

  War Party Admin> Warning! You have towers with unassigned defense positions. These towers will remain inactive until you assign a defender.

  War Party Admin> Warning! You have cage traps that have not been loaded. They will issue a misfire if triggered.

  “Okay boys and girls,” I cried, walking into the defense cockpit. “This is not a drill!”

  Jonah hovered over the map, pacing back and forth worriedly. This was his show now.