The Dragon's Revenge

by Conor Kostick

  In a matter of seconds, the design was clear: it was going to be a long war horn, fashioned as though made from a cow’s horn, though in fact, from this magical, pink crystal. The pieces fused together as they moved into position, so the artefact appeared to be perfect and seamless. Did we have enough shards to complete the item? We did. Raitha and I cheered as the last piece fell into place and everyone looked happy, their faces shining pink in the glow from the artefact.

  ‘Now I blow it?’ asked Sapentia.

  ‘You do, surely,’ I answered.

  Without hesitating Sapentia took the crystal war horn in her hands, put the narrow end to her lips and blew hard. Nothing happened, nor was there any sound.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she wondered aloud. Then blew once more.

  Placing his hand on Sapentia’s arm, Raitha murmured, ‘Is it possible for you to use your Identify Magic skill?’

  ‘Good idea.’ Sapentia held the glowing, crystal horn in front of her face and concentrated upon it. We all waited silently. ‘I’m told that this is the War Horn of Nemain.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ Braja reached out for the item. ‘Let me try it.’

  ‘Go ahead. But I think Raitha should,’ I said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Nemain is one of the gods available to half-elf hunters.’

  While sorcerers, wizards and their related classes drew their magic and spirit from study and books, clerics, druids and hunters obtained spirit by affiliating to a pantheon of gods. I hadn’t yet chosen which pantheon I would join but I had read up on the subject as well as seen the options in the relevant UI menu.

  After blowing on the horn to no effect, Braja passed the artefact to Raitha, who held it reverentially.

  ‘Shall I first affiliate to the Ancient Forest Gods?’ asked Raitha, referring to the pantheon containing Nemain.

  ‘Good idea, I’ll do the same.’

  Only cursorily reading the text that popped up to inform me about the consequences of my affiliation (better responses from NPCs of the same affiliation, some new enemies), I returned my attention back to the cavern just as Raitha raised the horn up carefully in both hands and blew gently into it. As I was about to suggest he try harder, a wonderful note sounded: high pitched, sweet and resonating around the chamber with layers of overtones. The whole room now filled with pale pink light and I caught the distinct scent of roses.

  You have completed the Horn of Nemain quest. You gain experience.

  Maybe I was becoming greedy; it seemed that my experience gain had been disappointingly small.

  Then we were in the presence of a goddess and I have to say, the game’s designers did her justice. Tall, nearly two metres; long, sinuous tresses of black hair; tight-fitting banded and leather armour, mostly of black leather, with glittering silver buckles; a dark-wood bow across her back; sword and dagger scabbarded at her waist; delicate, half-elven features (young, not much older-looking than a human teenager); and extraordinary violet eyes that made my heart skip when she looked at me.

  ‘What are your names? You warriors who have restored the Horn of Nemain?’

  ‘Raitha.’

  ‘Sapentia.’

  ‘Grythiss.’

  ‘Braja.’

  ‘Klytotoxos.’

  When I spoke, her smile became a frown. Then she looked back up to the others and continued. ‘Morc Mac Dela of the Fomoiri will have sensed what you have done and soon he will be here. He will be arrogant and confident, because he knows that no mortal weapon can harm him. The Fomoiri believe me to be in exile from this world and, indeed, my powers are greatly weakened, but I can assist you in the approaching battle. Raise your favourite weapon.’

  Should I drop my Wolf Form? In order to hold out my bow for whatever benefit the goddess was about to bestow? After a moment of indecision, I remained as I was.

  With sombre, unrecognisable words, Nemain gestured at our group and a flow of golden, sparkling light rushed from her outstretched fingers, to cause the weapons to glow. A rushing noise rose and fell and the light disappeared from the hand of the goddess. Yet it remained in the weapons. While I was delighted for my friends, I also felt jealous and regretful I hadn’t acted sooner. These could well be the first magic weapons acquired in the game by any player.

  ‘And you, worshiper of the Ancient Forest Gods.’

  Upon being addressed, Raitha dropped to one knee, which was a nice touch.

  ‘You may keep my horn and it will serve you three times. The first blast upon it will give you and your allies greater courage in battle.’

  [Group] ‘A bonus to hit perhaps,’ suggested Braja.

  Sapentia immediately whispered back, [Group] ‘Hush. This is most great. Listen.’

  ‘The second will remove all evil effects and poisons from you and your allies. The third blast will summon me or, if I am still restrained, I will send what aid I can. After this, you must throw the horn into a forest river. Do you understand and swear to do this?’

  ‘I absolutely do.’ Raitha was so earnest I almost laughed. When, however, the goddess turned to look at me again, I instantly felt a cold wave run down my body, as though I had just stepped into a waterfall.

  ‘And you, wolf. I sense evil in you. Do you swear to fight for me in the coming battle?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Then I bless your fangs and claws.’ The goddess waved her arm. ‘They will serve you as if magical until the next moon.’

  Not bad, not as good as a permanent magic weapon, but still.

  ‘Mac Dela comes! I must leave. Farewell, you have earned the gratitude of Nemain and that is no light matter.’

  The glow dimmed; the cavern felt empty; the goddess was gone.

  ‘Lizardman will worsssship Nemain, though she is not of our pantheon. She is…amazing.’ Grythiss was holding up his longsword and examining it. There was a new, pale turquoise sheen to the metal. ‘Do we know what ssshe has done for uss?’

  ‘Plus two,’ announced Sapentia.

  ‘Fantastic.’ Braja gave a few experimental swipes of his mace, while Raitha put her now-magical bow away across her back.

  In the distance came a rumbling sound; the ground shook, dust fell from the ceiling in several distinct streams and then heavy footsteps resounded down the hallways. These effects really did make me feel nervous, as did my concern about the coming fight. We had gotten here with an exploit and might well therefore have arrived at a raid situation with seriously under-powered characters. It was great we had magical weapons but were we up to this encounter, whatever it was?

  ‘It’s too late to run, I suppose?’ muttered Braja, who was evidently thinking along the same lines as me.

  ‘Let’s hope the vampire immunities work.’

  Sapentia sighed. ‘It would be shame to wipe here; getting our gear back now matters.’

  Filling the corridor was a black shadow that emerged into our room and became visible as a creature with a huge, muscular human body and a goat’s head, with powerful-looking horns. Quite the demon. In his arms was a massive, two-handed axe.

  With a thunderous voice, the giant said, ‘Who opposes the will of Morc Mac Dela?’

  ‘I do,’ said Grythiss at once. ‘I, Grythiss the Lizardman, follower of the beautiful and kind Nemain.’

  The monster snarled at this and inhaled deeply. ‘You, wolf, undead creature.’ He stretched out his axe and pointed the head towards me. ‘You belong with me. Fight by my side and you shall have lands, castles and as many humans to feed upon as you need.’

  ‘That’s very generous. I accept with gratitude.’ I dipped my head by way of offering a wolfish bow and as though eager, I leapt across to stand on all fours beside Morc Mac Dela, facing my comrades, teeth bared.

  ‘Why you traitor, you will suffer for this!’ cried Raitha spiritedly.

  Sapentia joined in, ‘You villain!’

  Grythiss just gave a hiss, while Braja, half-heartedly, also cried ‘Traitor.’

  [Group] ‘Now what?’ asked
Raitha.

  [Group] ‘I’ve no idea. Let’s play along and see.’

  Mac Dela leaned his heavy, horned head down to my ear. ‘Which ones have magic weapons? You must fight them.’

  ‘None of them,’ I whispered back.

  ‘Ahaha!’ shouted Mac Dela with a voice that filled the chamber. ‘The Horn of Nemain will be destroyed once more and this tomb filled with my followers. Wolf, kill the spellcaster, I will slaughter the rest.’ With a confident stride he hefted the axe high and moved towards the group.

  ‘I obey, mighty lord.’

  My own leap took me right up onto Mac Dela’s broad back and I bit as hard as I could into the flesh of his neck that was visible above the rim of his bronze breastplate.

  Critical Hit! You have bitten Morc Mac Dela for 38 points of damage. You are draining his blood.

  Encouraged by the message - I hadn’t seen the draining result before, which could have been either a vampire skill or a wolf skill that I hadn’t achieved earlier - I called out to my friends, hearing the excitement in my own voice. [Group] ‘Just stay back for now.’

  With deafening roars the monster span around and around, trying to reach me with his sharp horns and prise me off. It was no good: although my shaky vision registered the fact I was feeling some buffeting, I took no damage and my grip on his throat felt secure.

  You have drained the blood of Morc Mac Dela for 9 points of damage.

  You have drained the blood of Morc Mac Dela for 7 points of damage.

  Then he tried swinging his axe over his shoulder, first the right then left. There was surprising speed in the motion, which would have led to him cutting into his own body had I not been there.

  You have been hit by Morc Mac Dela for 0 damage.

  You have drained the blood of Morc Mac Dela for 9 points of damage.

  Yes! My immunity worked against the axe.

  You have drained the blood of Morc Mac Dela for 8 points of damage.

  It took him some time to realise that although he was landing some very effective blows like this, I wasn’t weakening at all. He must have been down by over 100 hit points before he changed his approach once more. Dropping his axe, the monster reached around and scrabbled for a grip on my mouth, failing that (I was embedded too deep and the blood made everything too slippery for him), he then stuck his fingers in my nostrils and pulled at them until they tore.

  You have been hit by Morc Mac Dela for 0 damage.

  You have drained the blood of Morc Mac Dela for 7 points of damage.

  [Group] ‘Got the axe!’ exclaimed Raitha delightedly.

  I couldn’t see much at this point, with the giant’s hands across my vision, his thumbs, in fact, pressing into my eyes.

  [Group] ‘Nice, but please keep clear of him.’

  Having wasted precious time clawing and tearing at me with his strong hands, Mac Dela tried again to shake me by spinning. Additionally, he ran backwards at great speed and smashed us both into the wall, causing my vision to shudder wildly and the tracking beneath my feet to slide violently, reflecting the fact my wolfish rear feet were losing their hold on his back.

  You have been hit by Morc Mac Dela for 0 damage.

  You have drained the blood of Morc Mac Dela for 7 points of damage.

  My grip on his neck never weakened, however, and I was quickly able to stabilise my position.

  You have drained the blood of Morc Mac Dela for 8 points of damage.

  The monster tried the same trick two more times, to no avail. Then he sank to his knees.

  [Group] ‘Lizardman sssstrike now? Want to sssee how well my new sssword worksss.’

  [Group] ‘I don’t trust him, it’s a trick. Keep away.’

  As the combat messages continued to indicate that the monster’s hit points were rapidly draining away, Mor Mac Dela spoke in a voice that was slow and with constant interruptions as he coughed blood out onto the floor.

  ‘I’ll give you anything you want…I swear…By the ancient gods. I can grant wishes. Nemain can give you nothing…’

  Grimly, I held on, watching his hit points run down. How many did he have? We were well over three hundred.

  [Channel Oalitha/Klytotoxos] ‘Team meeting in ten minutes. Please find a safe place to unclip now.’

  [Group] ‘I just got ten-minute warning to meeting,’ said Sapentia.

  [Group] ‘As did I,’ said Raitha.

  Sapentia came in again. [Group] ‘We have to finish this.’

  [Group] ‘Now Lizardman joinsss the fight?’

  [Group] ‘Okay.’

  Personally, I’d prefer not to take any risk here and turn up to the meeting late. My fears, though, were quickly turned into elation. Mac Dela did not rally himself as Grythiss slashed at his legs. In fact, he sprawled full length on the hard floor, groaning, blood pooling around him.

  ‘No. No.’

  Morc Mac Dela is dead. You gain experience.

  Excellent experience too.

  ‘Hurry,’ urged Sapentia, her avatar standing over Braja, who was searching the body of our slain opponent.

  ‘A necklace, the breastplate and a ring. The breastplate is Fastened.’

  ‘Lizardman can ussse?’

  ‘Or Braja.’

  ‘You go ahead,’ said our cleric.

  ‘Thanksss.’

  While Sapentia moved impatiently to the exit corridor, Raitha straightened up and Grythiss knelt down. A moment later, he was parading around the chamber, wearing the gleaming bronze breastplate, which had a horned helmet design across the chest.

  ‘Lizardman is most handsssome!’ he pronounced with evident pleasure.

  ‘Must leave,’ said Sapentia, ‘I will Identify Magic on ring and necklace later.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t care for group meetings?’ I asked with genuine interest.

  ‘This is different. This is tactical emergency and planning for raid. We must be part of it or dishonour our agreement with Yuno.’

  ‘Fine. Let’s run to back to my coffin and camp out.’

  We hurried back through the stone chambers, all of them still empty, and into the first stretch of rough stone corridor. There, I lay in my coffin and the others put the lid on it and covered it in cloaks before I unclipped.

  Chapter 15

  Astra Inclinant

  More than three hundred of us were gathered in the Den. As with the last time the full team had assembled, there was a stage underneath the scoreboard, only this time there was also a large projector screen standing beside the lectern. Looking at the board, there was a swathe of red, headed by the name Molino, who was a warrior with a very impressive level of 59. About fifty names down came the first green player, Owen, a halfling rogue level 25. Another stretch of thirty or forty players and you came to Sapentia at 15. Then there were a huge bunch of players, myself included, respectably in the middle of the list. I’d come a long way from when I was stuck on 0.

  While our last team meeting had been full of enthusiasm and with the delight with which the players were enjoying their work very evident in their expressions, this assembly was sombre. Perhaps, it occurred to me, Yuno now considered scrapping the whole project as unrealistic. Perhaps we were to be sent home. That was a miserable thought. It would be terrible to have this amazing experience abruptly terminated. I was enjoying the company of true friends and the immersive adventure of the game, especially the story of Klytotoxos, the hunter vampire.

  Watson, when he stood up, seemed as sturdy and untroubled as ever. Gripping both sides of the lectern in his fleshy hands, he leaned towards us, looking out at the room over the top of his fashionable, purple glasses. ‘You will be aware that an army of dark elves and their allies, led by the General of Bow and the General of Sword have conquered Fort Hellsmouth. This was clearly a move designed to interfere with our project as they have stationed high-level dark elves and monsters at our character’s spawn points and it has become impossible for them to survive entry into the game.

  ‘Those of yo
u still able to play the game will raid in order to clear the area, at least long enough for your colleagues to clip up and make their escape. I shall pass you over to Mr Blackridge to explain the details.’

  As Blackridge rose from his seat a murmuring began that created quite a considerable volume of noise. There was consternation being expressed on all sides of me. How could players, the majority of whom were below level 20, hope to clear away such difficult mobs? Was the AI really smart enough to have come up with that scheme to thwart our plans?

  Having tapped the microphone repeatedly, until he had silence, Blackridge brushed a strand of dark hair back across his forehead and used a pointer with a red dot to direct our attention to the projector screen, which showed a map.

  ‘This is the situation in and around Fort Hellsmouth. We have twenty-one players, including Molino, locked out of the town square here, which is currently occupied by around twenty dark elves of various classes and five ogres. Northwards, at the Temple of Mov, we have five clerics blocked by the presence of eight dark elves and an Iron Golem. Just outside the east gate, at this grove of sacred trees, three druids are being contained by six dark elves and as many Cerebri.

  ‘In the flats outside the great southern gate are over twenty dark elves and, unfortunately, they have a Mind Stealer with them. This is blocking a dozen of our players. A group of seven players is camped out at the nearby village of Middlehampton’—he swung the pointer down southwards—‘where about eight dark elves are stationed and three ogres at the Tower of Nalinda are keeping two of our players from appearing.

  ‘When this meeting is over, we will all clip up and join the channel Yuno for the raid. Our assembly point is the ring of stones on Djorjuna Mountain. This is the nearest low-level teleport arrival spot; it will leave us about an hour’s march away from Fort Hellsmouth. Our strategy will be to firstly fight and distract the ogres at the Tower of Nalinda. Then the survivors will do the same at Middlehampton. Hopefully, that will release nine players who are all in their thirties and forties.

  ‘We will then reform at the lake for the second part of the raid, a move on Fort Hellsmouth itself. There’s no point going into details now, until we see how part one has progressed. Questions?’