The Marchstone Dale: Omegaverse 6
Author: G.R. Cooper
Date: 2018-03-10 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Science Fiction
Description: With word of his rebellion sweeping the city, Wulfgar flees Edonis and makes his way back to his kingdom of Marchstone. He has to prepare his defenses, raise and train an army, and ensure that the kingdoms on his western flanks will ally with him in the coming war with King Clive, a war that is looming over his little alpine domain and threatens to fall on him and his friends. Within days. Author's Note: Please be advised that there are sexually explicit scenes within this tale that are not meant for children.
Publisher: Independently published

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Also By

Author's Note

Prolog

Character Sheet

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilog

Character Sheet

Acknowledgments

LitRPG Facebook

About the Author

The Marchstone Dale

by G.R. Cooper

Copyright © 2018 G.R. Cooper

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Also By G.R. Cooper

Omegaverse Series:

Shepherd Moon

Shepherd’s Crook

Shepherd’s Cross

The Kings of Edonis

The Marches of Edonis

Coming soon:

The Better Part of Valor (Book 1 of the Valor series)

Author’s note

In the previous two books, I have used the prolog as a short “catch-up” that reminded the readers of what had happened in the story previously. I was never really happy with the way they turned out, and it was probably obvious that they were the last thing, rushed through and written off-hand.

Thus, in this book, I have used the prolog to not only bring the reader back into the world, but to introduce new, important, parts of the story. I have also taken the opportunity to tell this part of the story from the eyes of another character - much like I enjoyed doing with the previous epilogs.

The story begins the morning after the last left off, when Rydra had just finished looting King Clive’s treasure room and Wulfgar had confronted King Clive about their respective roles in the Omegaverse.

So, you’ve been warned - do not just skip past the prolog thinking that it’s once again nothing more than a rehash!

Thanks!

-grc

Prolog

Rydra sat back into his chair and enjoyed the warmth from the fireplace to his rear. He was still a little wired from the night before, when he and Wulfgar had looted the treasure room of King Clive’s palace. He smiled. That had been profitable. And fun. He laughed a little, thinking about Wulfgar’s reaction to the loot. The fun was behind, however. He had work to do. Recruiting.

Rydra was on the latest of his tour of the taverns of Edonis, beginning his work in spreading Clive’s propaganda. In telling the tale of Wulfgar and his friends - how they’d created a rival kingdom on the marches of Clive’s kingdom - he’d found roughly two-thirds of the players seemed to favor King Clive. He suspected much of that was down to jealousy; that a different player had seemingly risen so far, so quickly, within this world. Rydra lifted the pint of amber ale to his lips and took a short draw from the glass, frowning a little at the over hopped brew.

I’d hoped, he thought, I’d left the hoppy beer craze behind in the real world.

On first sitting down in the great-room of the Gilded Pumpkin he’d ordered the amber and not the IPA - the Indian Pale Ale that seemed to be the usual target of hops overload. He shrugged, now he knew better. He’d go back to the stout he’d enjoyed on many previous occasions; the stout he’d avoided today because he had hoped that the amber would provide an easy respite from the heavy brews he’d been drinking on his crawl around the inns of the city.

He smiled as he thought, well, at least I won’t be drinking this ale down quickly, so I won’t be tempted to switch afterward and drink my weight in stout!

Remembering he didn’t have to worry about getting furiously drunk or gaining weight in this world, he laughed at himself - it didn’t really matter what or how much he drank anymore.

“Was it something I said?” asked a looming figure on the other side of the table.

Rydra looked up. The figure, tall and broad shouldered, was pulling off a black helm, adorned with a skull-like visage across the front in darkly blued steel. He was, Rydra saw as he took in the character in whole, cocooned within a similarly dark suit of plate armor. The dark knight unbuckled a heavy belt and dropped a long, wide, sheathed sword onto the table in front of himself, and looked down at Rydra with dark eyes and raised one eyebrow.

Rydra smiled and waved toward the open chair on the opposite side of the table, and the warrior pulled it out and dropped into it with a sigh.

“Not at all,” said Rydra, beaming, “I was just laughing at myself. An activity which, I assure you, is not unusual among those who know me.” He leaned in to the table as the dark night signaled the waitress for a beer, “So, are you just in from the frontier?”

“No,” said the fighter, deadpan, “I always wear full armor into a bar.”

Rydra bowed in his seat, “Pardon me, for pointing out the obvious.”

The warrior returned a brief half smile.

“I am Rydra. Thief. Denizen of Edonis.”

“Darkwind Knightfall. But you can call me Jay, if that’s easier.”

“Whatever you prefer, friend.”

“Jay, then, for now. No need for formality.”

Rydra nodded his acquiescence, “Where have you been, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Jay shrugged it off, “Not at all. Down south, in the Dark Hills. A three day ride. I was there working on a professional quest. I’m a Magus of Evening.”

“A good friend of mine is a Magus of Evening as well.”

Jay nodded, “The Knight Magus has a different path, unique for us. Once we reach tenth level, we can take the path-finder quest. It allows us to cast with and through our weapons. Before, we could either wield or cast, not both simultaneously.”

“And now?”

Jay shrugged - or as much as he could in heavy armor - and tapped the sword on the table, “And now, this sword does extra magical damage. What I can now do is pre-cast one of my spells onto the sword ahead of time. The next thing I hit with this sword will get a nice, level one lightning bolt besides whatever melee damage I inflict. And as I level up, I’ll not only be able to add more spells to my book, I’ll do more damage and, eventually, I’ll be able to add multiple charges to the blade.”

“So, once you hit someone with the blade, the spell is cast and you must reload it in order for it to work again?”

Jay nodded, taking a sip from his newly delivered beer, “Mmmhmm,” he grunted.

“So, what brings you back?”

“The rumor. That resurrection and quests had been turned off. I figured this was the place to go if it was true. At least, if I wanted to find out what the hell was going on, you know?”

Rydra nodded, smiling. “It was true. Did you get the message?”

Early that morning, Rydra had received a system message.

“Effective immediately, resurrection and quests will turn back on. For one week only for resurrection, after which they will again be turned off for six months. Quests will award three times the experience points for the period of time in which resurrection is turned off.”

“Yeah,” said Jay, “I got it. But what the hell does it mean? Why were they turned off in the first place?”

Rydra shrugged. “I have no idea,” he lied. He knew well the experimental nature of this world; how Clive was conducting an experiment on the players; an anthropological study of himself and everyone else who had died on Earth and been reborn in the Omegaverse. He also knew that alone of all of the players, Wulfgar had not died before entering this world. Rydra knew that made his friend special, but he didn’t know how or why. As King Clive’s spy-master, Rydra had been filled in on much that other players were left unaware, but not that. All he knew, or thought he knew, was that Wulfgar was central to whatever Clive was up to.

“It might,” began Rydra, bringing the conversation back to his mission at hand, “have something to do with the new kingdom.”

Jay shook his head and raised his eyebrows, “The what?”

“A player has setup himself as the king of a valley up in the mountains to the west. I can’t imagine that Clive is thrilled, at all, about that.”

“Who is this player?”

“His name is Wulfgar,” said a tall man with long dark hair. Several strands of silver hair lay along the right side of his face, draped over his shoulders like the rest of his black mane. He sat heavily, without asking, next to Jay.

“His name is Wulfgar,” the new arrival repeated, “And you know him.”

Rydra nodded, “Yes, Tim, I do know him. Tim, meet Jay. Jay, Tim,” he nodded between the two.

“I know Wulfgar,” Rydra continued, “and he’s a friend of mine.”

“So, why aren’t you with him?” asked Tim. His tone was not unfriendly, but serious.

Rydra just shrugged, “My place is here. I have a good life here. I’m not interested in helping to foment rebellion against my good life.”

“Especially,” added Tim, “since he and a handful of friends are going up against Clive and myself.”

“Yourself?” asked Jay.

Tim nodded, “Yeah. King Clive has tasked me with leading his forces. Leading them with one goal - to defeat and dethrone,” he chuckled, “Wulfgar. To remove the threat from the borders of this fine kingdom.”

Rydra looked up, shocked. This was news to him. He looked at Tim closely, but didn’t get the feeling that the man was lying to him. He smiled benignly at Tim, nodding.

“Tell me about him,” smiled Tim. “Wulfgar.”

Rydra smiled back, “There’s not much to tell, really. I only knew him a week or two. We went on a couple of quests together. He’s a Rogue Magus …”

“Of Evening,” interrupted Tim, “like me.”

“And me,” added Jay.

“Of Evening,” conceded Rydra, “and he’s pretty much a newbie. He’s only been in-world for about two weeks total.”

“Really?” exclaimed Jay. “He’s made quite an impact, pretty quickly.”

“He has. Disproportionately so.”

Tim nodded vigorously, “Very disproportionately.”

Rydra smiled back at Tim, “May I ask your beef with him?”

“Sure. He was my mentor in my professional quest. He sabotaged me.”

“How?” asked Jay.

Tim looked over at the warrior, “Remember the room with three doors?” He waited for Jay’s nod, “When we were in the first room, he told me that when I got to the door room, to choose the door on the far right.”

“Whoah. Dick move,” grunted Jay. “You must have had quite a fall.”

“Yeah,” growled Tim. “A long fall into pitch darkness. Scariest thing I’ve gone through in this world, and it happened because I trusted Wulfgar.” He frowned, “Never again. Never,” he looked pointedly at Rydra, “trust that bastard.”

Rydra smiled, shook his head, but kept his counsel to himself.

“And then,” said Tim, more animated, “he had the nerve to act like it was all a joke when we ran into each other the next day. He acted like it was no big deal. But then,” he sneered, “he would, wouldn’t he? I had my friends with me that time, and we outnumbered and outweighed him and his friends.”

“You sure did,” laughed Rydra.

“I’m sorry, man,” said Tim, “I really am. I shouldn’t have put my anger with Wulfgar on to you and the others.” He smiled, “And that was a really neat trick you pulled, sneaking in behind me and getting your blade on my throat.” He smiled more broadly and winked, “And thanks for not decapitating me.”

“I’m glad I didn’t,” chuckled Rydra, “especially now that I know the whole story. And there’s no need to apologize. None at all.” He smiled openly but frowned inwardly. He had seen the fury in Tim when the man had confronted Wulfgar, Lauren, Snorri, and himself. The fury and the arrogance. While Tim may have felt - may have even been - justified in his anger, the way that it manifested, Rydra thought, showed the man that Tim truly was.

Rydra grasped at some way to change the subject.

“So,” he began, “Tim and Jay. Aren’t you guys worried about using your true names, assuming those are your true names, in this world? It was my understanding they provided leverage over you, at least magically.”

“They do,” conceded Jay, “but you have to know the full true name. First, middle, last, whatever. The whole thing.”

“Yah,” laughed Tim, “there’s no partial credit offered. Close only works,” he snorted, “in horseshoes and hand-grenades!”

Rydra chuckled, sipping his beer. He nodded.

“Good to know, gentlemen, good to know.” Rydra wiped his upper lip of foam, and looked at the two character sheets for his new companions.

Darkwind Knightfall. Level 10. Knight Magus of Evening.

General Tim the Undying. Level 4. Magus of Evening.

He smiled broadly at Tim, “Dedicated magus, eh?”

Tim nodded, “Yup. And I’m only level four, even though I’ve been in this world for a long time. I’m a pretty methodical person. I plan.” He winked, “I scheme. I make sure I have all of the information I need, that I have everything in place, before I make my move. I studied out this world, the rules of this world, before I decided on my path.” He leaned forward toward Rydra, “Like you, I want to build a life here. I realized early on that this isn’t just a game.” He looked over to Jay then back to Rydra, “I mean, you guys understand that we could eventually have lives here that are much, much, longer than our lives before, right? As far as we know, we are immortals in an eternal world.”

“Thus Tim the Undying?” asked Rydra.

Tim shook his head, “That’s a new honorific. Bestowed upon me by the King, at the same time he made me his general.” He shook his head again, “You can’t change your name after you enter this world, probably even if you go out and re-roll for all I know, so there’s no way I could have added those on myself.” He laughed, “It’s not like I knew when I chose my characteristics that I’d come to be a general, or undying.”

“But we’re all undying,” countered Jay. “At least, for the next week.”

“And I’ll be the only one who still is in a week and a day.” Tim frowned in thought and brushed back a long, dark lock that had fallen over his right eye, “I thought a lot about whether to tell anyone this, but it’s part of my deal with King Clive. In exchange for leading his forces against Wulfgar, I get to resurrect. As often as I need.”

“Why the concern? About keeping it a secret?”

Tim shrugged, “I didn’t want any jealousy. It’ll be bad enough now. But in a couple of weeks, once people are actually facing not being able to rez for six months, it’ll be worse.”

“Then why tell us?” asked Jay.

“I wanted to be honest with people. I plan on leading this fight from the front. If I somehow look brave doing so, great, but I didn’t want people to rethink their opinion if I got killed and suddenly rezzed with no explanation.”

Tim looked up between Rydra and Jay, “I mean, if people started second guessing my motivations and my actions, it’ll be very hard to lead them into the war that’s coming.”

Rydra nodded. He was beginning to understand that Tim might actually have the makings of a real leader. He had wondered about that earlier - wondered how the guy who came across as a complete asshole in the village the week before had managed to get the other players in the village to follow him.

He smiled inwardly, thinking, I guess it’s OK to be a complete sociopath, a heartless dick, as a leader as long as you’re only a dick to your enemies. He thought about that for a moment. People didn’t follow a Tim because he was an asshole, they followed him because he was an asshole to the other guys. To the guys that the followers felt were the competition.

It might even be, he considered, that was one of the reasons why some people followed someone like Tim. They wanted someone in charge who would do what the average person wasn’t willing to do in order to win.

Do unto others before some bastard does unto us.

Rydra examined that against the kind of leader that Wulfgar was. Wulfgar wasn’t loud. He led by example, allowing his natural charisma to attract followers. He delegated, he didn’t dictate. His leadership almost felt as though it was an afterthought - that Wulfgar simply went about his business and was surprised when people decided to follow him.

Rydra wasn’t sure that was the kind of leadership that Wulfgar needed now - not with the weight of an entire kingdom preparing to fall upon him and his small band.

He looked back to Tim. Clive had chosen wisely. Tim was the kind of leader who pulled people to him, by force of will. The sentiment that Rydra had noticed so far - that two in three of the players in Edonis seemed inclined to side with Clive against Wulfgar - played into Tim’s hands. He had a larger pool to draw from, and his outgoing and active form of leadership were likely what was required to actually get the players to line up and fight against Wulfgar. Given that, plus the much greater base of resources that Clive could provide, it seemed, to Rydra, to give Tim an overwhelming advantage.

Wulfgar would be hard-pressed to overcome the wave that was preparing to fall upon him.

Rydra had already decided to help Wulfgar; at least within the bounds that his role allowed him. When looting the palace store-room the evening before, he’d made sure to grab as many powerful objects and items as he could. He had given those to Wulfgar - who had, after all, earned them by distracting the guards and allowing Rydra entrance. Rydra chuckled inwardly; it wasn’t as though he could loudly proclaim himself King Clive’s Spymaster Extraordinaire! and demand entrance to the treasure room. The guards had no idea who he was. As far as Rydra knew, nobody apart from King Clive knew who he was.

Rydra had spent the little time he had in the treasure room stuffing every epic item and high-value object into his sack. He had been more than happy to gift the entire load - and a few things besides - to help his friend become established within his new town.

“Can I count on you?”

Rydra snapped back to the present by Tim’s question. He nodded to the wizard across the table.

“I’m afraid,” Rydra began, “that I’m not much use, nor am I inclined toward, active combat in a war-zone,” he smiled, “I put in my time doing that in my last life.” He leaned back in his chair, “But I am happy to help you spread the word of what is happening. To help you recruit your forces.”

And likewise help Wulfgar with recruits who seem inclined toward his cause, Rydra thought.

Tim smiled broadly, “That will be a big help, of course. Thank you.” He looked over to Jay.

The knight frowned darkly, “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but, what’s in it for me?”

“Not a dick question at all!” beamed Tim. “I have, at my disposal, a series of extremely high reward quests from King Clive that I can bestow upon the people who will help me root out this rebellion.” He shrugged, “If you’ll but declare for me, to help our side, then at the end, once Wulfgar is defeated, your reward will be, well, more than any quest reward that I’ve ever seen.”

Jay nodded, thoughtful, “I’ll think it over.” He took a sip of his beer, “What’s your plan?”

Tim sat back, frowning in thought, “First, obviously, I’ll be spending a lot of time recruiting,” He nodded toward Rydra. “Setting up the structure of my forces. Then I’ve got to work through the logistics; what armament I’ll need, what supplies. Everything I can think of required to take that valley back.”

He smiled, “Well, actually, I won’t be spending a lot of time on that part. I’ve already got a captain, someone to take care of that. He was one of the top modders for Civ seven before joining us here in this world. He’s a genius at this sort of thing.”

“So,” Tim continued, “I’ll be working with him and he’ll be letting me know exactly what sort of forces I’ll need to form and what resources will be required.”

Tim sipped thoughtfully for a moment, “First on my list, though, is to recruit my core corps of troops, which I fervently hope that Jay will become a part of. They’re to be my cadre; my many right hands. The tip of King Clive’s spear.”

Rydra looked to Jay. The knight wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were focused. It would be as obvious to Jay as it was to Rydra that the politically smart move was to side with King Clive; the monarch simply had more to offer his followers than Wulfgar could probably ever afford.

Rydra leaned back in the simple wooden chair, one of many that lined the beam tables in the crowded, smoky inn. He clasped his hands behind his head in thought.

“So,” Rydra began, looking back down at Tim, “you’re a planner. A, in your own words, schemer. How are you going to go about disposing of Wulfgar?”

“Methodically,” nodded Tim. “I’m going to build up my forces, probe and find Wulfgar’s weakness, then roll over him. I’m going to fuckin’ salt the earth the asshole stands on, and I’m going to deliver him on his knees to King Clive.”

“Not a quick attack, then?” asked Jay.

“Probably not,” admitted Tim. “That probe I mentioned will probably happen within the first week. While we can still rez. I’ll spend a couple of days recruiting here,” he nodded at Rydra who smiled back, “then take what forces I can muster on a quick raid into Wulfgar’s territory. I don’t expect that we’ll be able to defeat him, without a lot of luck,” he knocked on the wooden table top, “but I want to get inside his territory, scout it out. I want to get an idea of what we’re up against, and if the raid gets wiped out, no big deal. We’ll just rez back here and regroup for the big campaign.”

Tim looked to Jay, “What do you think? Do you have a problem with a suicide mission?”

Jay shook his head and laughed, “Hell no. I’ve croaked so many damn times in this world that it’s lost all meaning.” He took a sip of his beer, “I mean, I kind of like that we won’t be able to rez for six months at a time. I kind of hope that setting remains in effect after this campaign is over.”

“How come?” asked Rydra.

Jay’s head bobbed within his armor, which Rydra took for a shrug.

“There’s nothing in this world that holds any suspense. Any fear. When the worst that can happen to you is that you might lose some gear if you don’t have enough money in the bank to cover your insurance, there’s no reason not to dive right into the dragon’s den. When there is no real risk, the reward doesn’t taste as sweet.” He shrugged again, “After a while, what’s the point? The grind? Personally, the only thing that keeps me grinding is so I can reach level fifty and head back out into the rest of the Omegaverse.”

Jay shook his head, “No, death holds no fear for me here.”

“Interesting point,” said Tim. “I hope enough people feel like you that I won’t have any problem finding enough for a cavalry squadron to head up into …” he let the sentence trail off as he looked up to Rydra. “What are we going into, anyway? You’ve been up there, right?”

Rydra smiled and took a long draw on his beer. He took the time to think. He couldn’t lie or prevaricate; not without giving his true allegiance away. He wondered if he knew anything about the area around Marchstone that wouldn’t be obvious given a quick lightning raid. Rydra didn’t think so. He also thought back to the conversation that he had with Wulfgar earlier in the day.

After they’d returned from Clive’s palace, Rydra and Wulfgar had holed up in Rydra’s apartment to split the loot. Wulfgar had begun to go through the problems he faced as a new leader. He had, among other things, recognized that a quick raid, just as the one Tim was planning, was a real danger and severe threat.

Rydra wondered if knowing that it was Tim that was going to be leading the assault would increase Wulfgar’s concern. He needed to spread the information he had warily. If the wrong piece of knowledge got out and could be traced to him, it could become obvious that he was helping the rebels. He had begun to suspect that Clive’s powers within this world were much greater than the King let on. Rydra even wondered if Clive had access to the player’s very thoughts.

Rydra had to be circumspect.

“Yes,” he began, “I’ve been up there. It’s basically just an alpine valley. It’s surrounded completely by high, steep, mountains. I think there’s a lake to the northern end, but I don’t know how big it is. There is a single, small village in the valley. Nothing special. Maybe a dozen of the normal kinds of buildings.”

He frowned in thought, “The only access, that I know, is through a small pass on the southernmost end.”

“How small?” asked Tim.

Rydra shrugged, “A hundred yards? Maybe less. In the middle of the pass is a stone keep.”

Tim frowned, “That sounds pretty defensible.”

“It is,” Rydra nodded. “And Wulfgar is fortifying it. He’s got a stone troll and some dwarf hirelings building a wall. That will completely cut off the pass, but I can’t imagine that they’ll finish with that in the next week. You should be able to bypass it pretty easily.”

“A troll?” asked Jay.

“Yeah, a stone troll,” laughed Rydra. “It’s Wulfgar’s, what do you call it, the animal that you wizard types use as a servant.”

“Familiar,” said Jay.

“That’s it, his familiar.”

“What an idiot,” snorted Tim. “What use can that have for a sorcerer?”

“He makes a damn good bodyguard, for one,” countered Rydra, “but, as far as magic or otherwise, I don’t think Wulfgar has found a use, yet. But, as I said, the troll is helping to build out the fortresses in Marchstone. He seems perfectly suited for that.” He grinned, remembering that Wulfgar had named the troll after the man seated across the table.

Tim waved the discussion away, “OK. The asshole troll has a pet stone troll. Is there anything else you can tell me about Wulfgar’s little valley?”

“Not off-hand, no. If I think of something, I’ll be sure to get word to you,” Rydra lied, “and I’ll also keep moving through the inns and spreading the word,” he pushed back his chair and began to rise.

“Hang on a sec,” said Tim, waving him back down, “I’d like to talk to you a bit more, if you don’t mind.”

Jay took the hint and stood, “I’m going to grab a room and get out of this armor. I’ll be back down in fifteen minutes.”

Tim smiled up at Jay in gratitude, “Thanks, man, I can’t wait to introduce you to the rest of the guys. They’ll be here before too long.” He watched as the black knight made his way through the tangled crowd of the inn and up the stairs toward the bedrooms above. Turning back to Rydra, his face grew serious.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Rydra shook his head, wary.

“No, I believe I’ve covered everything I know about the valley.”

“I meant is there anything about you that you want to share?”

Rydra took a long draw on his mug, draining the last of his beer. He put the mug down, pondered it for a second, then looked back up to Tim.

“No. Nothing I can think of.”

Tim smiled, then leaned forward.

“Are you sure, spymaster?”

It took all of Rydra’s self control to keep his mien measured and blank.

“What?”

“Spymaster. You’re King Clive’s spymaster.”

“What makes you say that?”

Tim waved away Rydra’s question, “Cut it out, I know. That’s all that matters. I also know the role in my army was one that King Clive had already assigned you. To spread the word of what is happening between myself and Wulfgar. I also know that means I can trust you.”

“So,” continued Tim, “is there anything else you can tell me about Wulfgar.”

Rydra shook his head, “No. I already covered what kind of person I think he is, and his plans for defending his valley,” Rydra shrugged, “I have no reason to hold anything back.”

“How about as far as Clive goes? That is, between Wulfgar and Clive.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do,” grinned Tim, “but that’s OK. I’ll sum it up for you. Wulfgar and I are in the same boat.”

“How so?”

Tim shrugged and leaned back in his seat.

“We’re both being tested. It wasn’t random choice that Clive picked me to lead his forces. We have a long relationship. Back to the outer Omegaverse, actually. Clive was my AI assistant before, you know.”

“Before you died.”

Tim nodded and smiled, “Something like that, yeah.”

“Do you know why? Why you, and I presume, Wulfgar, are being tested?”

“No, not really. Clive once described me as a candidate. A candidate for what, however, he didn’t say. I have no idea what the purpose of his testing is. What his plans are.”

A deep smile spread across Tim’s face and his eyes narrowed, “But I can infer one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Candidate. It wasn’t pluralized when Clive used it. There was an implication in the way he said it.”

“Which was?”

Tim laughed loudly.

“There can be only one!”

Name: Wulfgar the Dangerous, Rogue Magus of Evening, Laird of Marchstone

Level: 05

STR: 11

INT: 08+01

AGI: 11

PRS: 02+01

FRT: 01

HP: 24 (ST+AGI + (LVL/3))

AC: 03 (Leather, Full)

STA: 16 (AGI+LVL)

MNA: 17 (INT+ (Magic Level x 2))

ALI: True Neutral

REP: Dangerous (+1 PRS)

Dwarves: Dwarf Friend.

Faerie: High Esteem

Rats: Awe

Orcs: Respect

Elves: Suspicion

Skills (Level):

Blade Wind (2): Targets most vulnerable facing part of the opponent. Activating causes player to spin and gives a +10 to hit attack on the opponent. Player cannot be hit during the spin. Cool-down 30 seconds minus 1 second per Blade Wind level to a minimum of 10 seconds. Active. Skill automatically granted at level 3 Small Blade.

Climbing (3): Increases ability to successfully climb what would otherwise be an impossible vertical barrier! Each level adds .5% success chance per skill check, each point of AGI adds 1%. Active. 100 - Difficulty% + (Skill Level bonus + AGI bonus) = Success %

Cure Poison (1): Allows the creation of poison curing potions. Higher levels can cure more deadly poison. Active. Skill automatically granted at level 3 Herb Lore.

Healing Poultices (2): Allows the creation and application of healing poultices. Amount healed is dependent upon skill level. Active. Skill automatically granted at level 2 Herb Lore..

Herb Lore (4): Adds ability to detect and use valuable plants. Each level increases the amount of harvest as well as the detection range for the player by 1%. Passive

Hidden Stab (3): Increases damage done using a Small Blade while in Stealth. Passive. (STR+AGI) x .5 + (Small Blade Level + Hidden Stab Level) = Additional Damage. Removes player from Stealth.

Meditation (2): Increases the natural regeneration rate of Mana. The user must be completely still and silent to use the skill and the skill is disrupted if the user moves, speaks or receives damage (physical or magical). ((2 + (Meditation Level x .1)) x Base Regeneration Rate = Regeneration Rate. Cool-down 10 minutes minus 10 seconds per level. Active.

Small Blade (4): Gives to-hit and damage bonuses when using a knife or short sword. Passive.

Sorcery (4): This profession skill gives access to specific spells. The player’s Sorcery level adds to the spell level in some cases, as well as helping to determine amount of mana. Spells success depends upon relative relationship between Sorcery level and spell level. If Sorcery Level < Spell Level Then Success % = RND - Spell Level + Sorcery Level.

Stealth (3+11): Lowers the detection likelihood and radius of the player. Each level removes 1.5% of radius, multiplied by player’s AGI. Separate checks are made for visual and aural radii, each based on several environmental variables. Each level allows for 10 seconds of stealthy movement. Cool-down 10 minutes. Active.

Abilities:

Highlander: +1 AGI. +1 Climbing. +10 PRS with other Highlanders.

Magus: +2 INT +1 Meditation +1 Sorcery +1 Illumination

Druidism: Can enshrine holy sites at sacred trees (or facsimiles) that can be used to bind. +1 Rep with Faerie.

Items:

Clandestine Gauntlets: Provides wearer level 7 Stealth. Does not stack with skill levels, but will stack with other Clandestine items. A full suit of Clandestine gear provides a +4 Stealth bonus in addition to the stacking effects. Rare. Item 2 of 4 for suit.

Clandestine Slippers: Provides wearer level 7 Stealth. Does not stack with skill levels, but will stack with other Clandestine items. A full suit of Clandestine gear provides a +4 Stealth bonus in addition to the stacking effects. Rare. Item 3 of 4 for suit.

Baen Si’s Cloak: Provides wearer +10% magic resistance. Once per day, has 25% chance of completely negating one (1) magical attack. Uncommon. Modified to provide +1 INT.

Cowl of the Wolf: Provides visual camouflage in similarly colored environments, as well as infra-red cover in all environments. Reduces species aggression from Canis Arcturus to neutral. Unique. Bound.

Shepherd’s Bite: Provides upon successful attack a 50% chance of inflicting poison damage for 1d4 damage per (1d6 + Small Blade level) seconds. All poison damage is applied to attacker as healing at 1:1.

Spellbook: Contains all of the spells that the owner has learned. Bound.

Illumination (2): Lights the area around the caster until the spell is canceled. Area is a sphere centered on the caster whose maximum size is determined by the spell level (3 meters plus .5 meter per level to a maximum size of 20 meters). Caster can set maximum size upon casting. 05 Mana per cast. No cool-down.

Fire Shot (2): Sends a directed ball of flame up to five meters from the caster (plus 1 meter for every level). Maximum size of the ball is determined by the skill level of the caster. The fire can only ignite and damage flammable objects. Maximum size = ((Spell Level + Magic Level)) x .1 meter). Damage depends on flammability of object. Damage continues until flame is extinguished. 09 Mana per cast. No cool-down. Ingredients required: (1) Goat’s Rue, (1) Motherwort, (1) Mountain Mint.

Chapter 1

Wulfgar looked down from his perch on the top of the wall surrounding the city of Edonis into the valley below. The drop into the purpling darkness looked further than he knew it to be. There was about ten meters of nothing between him and the ground that the evening shadows hid at the base of the stone battlement.

He looked to his left, then his right; scanning the walkway along the top of the wall. He could see no guards approaching from either direction, not that it would have been a problem if he had. He could simply activate his Stealth skill - augmented by his pair of rare items, Clandestine Slippers and Gauntlets, to level fourteen - and disappear from sight instantly.

As it was, he slipped as silently as he could between two stone merlons and lowered himself over the edge. Once his body was fully stretched, he let go and dropped to the ground.

And onto a boulder.

His body curled into a fetal position as he lost balance and his ass continued past where his feet were planted on the top of the rock. One of his knees connected solidly with his jaw, and the clack of his jaw being slammed shut sounded out into the darkness.

“You have been slightly stunned!”

He rolled over and pushed himself back up onto his feet, then stood and patted the dirt off of his leather pants. He laughed at himself while he straightened the Cowl of the Wolf on his head and the long, fur cape that he’d had added onto it.

Very graceful, dickhead!

The effects of the stun left him a little unsteady, and he walked slowly west away from the city until it wore off. Once he felt normal, he began to jog, and keeping the Northwest Road to his left made his way to the first copse of trees, a couple of kilometers in the distance.

Wulfgar reached the trees. He smiled. His physical ability in this world still marveled him. He had just run several kilometers and wasn’t winded. He wasn’t sweating. He hadn’t tired or slowed.

He moved into the trees just to the right of the road and froze, listening. After a moment, the low rustle of the trees in the slight breeze allowed the soft sound of movement coming from deeper into the woods. He slid into the darkness, making his way under and around the branches that waved between him and the soft sounds. He heard a light clink. Metal on metal. Then a low snort and a stamp. A blackness loomed in the darkness, a shadow within the dark of the night. Wulfgar put out his hand and felt the withers of his mount.

Smiling, he turned, putting the horse to his back. He began methodically scanning through the darkness. He held his breath, willing himself into silence.

Even though he was expecting it, he was shocked when Rydra’s face appeared in the darkness in front of him. Wulfgar laughed softly as his friend came out of Stealth. The little thief’s teeth shone into the purpled darkness of the wood.

“Rydra,” nodded Wulfgar, smiling as broadly as his friend.

“I’ve been right behind you for the last several minutes,” chuckled Rydra.

“I know,” lied Wulfgar, snorting.

Rydra’s grin grew even wider.

“Bullshit. I lied. I was waiting right here by the horse. You never heard a thing!”

Wulfgar laughed, long and loud. The horse snorted and stamped.

“You got me,” he agreed, “I never heard a thing.” He bowed low, dramatically. “I acknowledge your mastery of stealth and deception, sensei!”

“Rare wisdom in one so young,” said Rydra in mock severity. He patted the horse’s neck.

“Thank you.” Wulfgar nodded, then cocked his head back toward the horse. “And thank you. Did you have any trouble getting out of town?”

Rydra shook his head.

“Not at all.”

After word had begun to spread of Wulfgar’s Rebellion, as it was becoming known, he had started getting some odd looks as he went on his errands about Edonis through the day; he was surprised at how fast the rumor spread - it had only been a couple of days since he had taken control of Marchstone and while he had been unaware that the news had leaked, during the day it became more obvious that people were hearing about it. The pair of friends had decided that discretion dictated that Wulfgar was probably better served leaving town as quietly as possible - avoiding any interaction with the town authorities; especially the gate guards, given his history of animosity with them.

Rydra had offered to bring Wulfgar’s horse and pack to this little wood while Wulfgar made his way quietly over the wall. Wulfgar had readily accepted. They had parted ways at lunchtime; Wulfgar running his errands while Rydra moved through the inns of the city collect what intelligence he could on the current state of affairs.

“News?”

“Plenty. First, King Clive has found his general. The leader of the forces he’ll be sending against you.”

“Interesting.”

Rydra smiled, “You have no idea, my friend. No idea.”

Wulfgar raised one eyebrow.

“Well? Go ahead. Don’t leave me hanging.”

Rydra laughed, enjoying toying with his friend.

“You know him.”

Wulfgar snorted, “It’s you, isn’t it? Field Marshall Rydra.”

“Good guess! No.”

Wulfgar looked into his friends eyes, glinting in the darkness. A coldness swept over him. He realized who Rydra was talking about.

“No. Really? Tim?”

Rydra’s face grew serious. He nodded, somber.

“I’m afraid so.”

“You’re kidding. Please.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

“I have no idea. I just happened to run into him in an inn. He was busy recruiting.”

“I hope you had the decency to turn him down.”

Rydra looked back at Wulfgar, unmoving.

“No. You’re kidding, right? He recruited you?” His jaw fell open.

Rydra shrugged, “Kind of. I’m helping him to spread the word.”

“You’re recruiting for Tim? Against me?”

Rydra winked, “As far as he knows, yes.”

Wulfgar nodded, suddenly understanding. “I get it. You agreed to work with him, but you’re really working with me. On the inside, as it were. A double agent?”

Rydra winked again. “More or less. I will be spreading the word, for both of you.” He shrugged, “My take is that people will naturally side one way or the other based on the facts of the situation. I’ve been painting your side in a bright light, but the law-and-order types seem to so far outnumber the rebellious types about two to one. So far.”

“What I will do,” Rydra continued, “is to as subtlety as possible try to steer the folks who naturally support the king into thinking that just avoiding the entire situation is in their best interest. That getting swept up in a war just as resurrection is being turned off isn’t the wisest course of action. On the other hand, the more adventurous rebel-type will hear how risking a short six-month death in return for getting in on ownership of a brand new kingdom is kind of a no-brainer.”

Wulfgar nodded. They had decided that offering players a plot of land, permanently in their name, was likely to draw many of them onto his side. They just had to make sure to do their best that King Clive didn’t hear of it; he had far more land to offer. He could give away parcels as large as the entire village of Marchstone to each and every player who fought for him and still have a surfeit of open plains left in his kingdom. But Wulfgar could offer something more than just land. True ownership. The ability to influence the direction of Marchstone. To help decide how the valley would progress and to profit from its success.

“There’s another thing,” said Rydra, his mien serious. “Tim has been given,” he continued after Wulfgar’s questioning expression, “the ability to resurrect as often as he needs. Alone of all of us, he will not be inconvenienced by the lack of resurrection for the next six months.”

Wulfgar nodded. He looked down, thinking. What kind of an advantage is that? Tim can probably take more personal risks - leading a battle from the front - but really, what difference can it make for him. Wulfgar shook his head, trying to work through the problem. It would probably amount to nothing, but he resolved to factor that into his plans.

Rydra took Wulfgar’s hand, “I’ll send word as I can, but I can tell you now that you probably have only a week before Tim makes his first foray. He plans to recruit a core corps and conduct a reconnaissance raid into Marchstone, and before rez is turned off. A suicide run, to get the layout of the land.”

Wulfgar nodded in thought.

“Thanks. You can send word through the Rat King, he’s an ally now,” he mumbled, lost in planning. “We’ll have to arrange a reception for Tim. Make sure he doesn’t get the drop on us. My Tim should be a big help in that.”

Rydra frowned apologetically, “I’m afraid I let slip that bit of information. I’m sorry, I mentioned him without thinking,” Rydra lied. He had realized that he had to mention his friend’s familiar. If he hadn’t, he risked suspicion once that notable piece of news became common knowledge.

Wulfgar frowned, patting the horse’s neck, “Can’t be helped now, maybe we can figure out a way to use it.” He frowned more deeply, unable to think of a way. He shrugged it off - water under the troll bridge.

He shook off the worry and returned to the present. Wulfgar took Rydra into his arms, giving him a bear hug.

“Thank you, again. I can’t possible repay everything you’ve done for me, for all of the help you’ve given us all in this.”

Rydra hugged his friend back, “Just save me that little hill across the stream from the village. It’ll make me a nice retirement spot for a villa.” He stood back and looked Wulfgar in the eye, “You know, once you get all of this business with King Clive wrapped up!”

“Will do!” laughed Wulfgar as he mounted his horse.

Wulfgar prodded his mount into a gallop as he left the stand of trees and Edonis behind. He looked westward toward the darkened mountains. Toward Marchstone and the fight ahead. He had a lot of planning to do. He began to work out the week ahead, to prepare for the coming war. He frowned, leaning forward into the horse’s neck as he allowed the mount to take its lead and pound down the western road.

He needed to shore up his flanks. The two kingdoms on the western side of his valley were mostly unknowns. The dwarves were at least working with him, so far, but he had no idea what their reaction would be once open war was declared between himself and Clive. Of the elves he had no clue. He hoped Conner would be waiting for him in Marchstone with good news of the ranger’s expedition into the sylvan woodland.

Wulfgar had a lot of preparation to accomplish in the next week.

He smiled.

The preparation had already begun; he thought back to the day that had just ended and reflected, as he rode, on everything he had accomplished since morning. It had been a busy day.

Wulfgar had curled up in front of the fire in Rydra’s room. The back of the fireplace flickered as he stared into it. He was going through the conversation with Clive when Rydra’s voice brought him back to the present.

“What is it that you want?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well,” continued Rydra, “you’re in a new world, right? You’ve been here for a few weeks, but you’ve come a long way. The vast majority of us who’ve been resurrected here just seem to be happy to continue our existence. You seem,” he paused in thought, “driven. Driven to attain more.”

Wulfgar frowned.

“I mean,” smiled Rydra, putting his hands on Wulfgar’s shoulders, “you’re establishing yourself as the leader of a town. You’re all but declaring war on a kingdom that looks like it should be able to easily wipe you off the map.”

Rydra lowered his head and looked up at Wulfgar, smiling.

“I repeat. What is it that you want?”

“I don’t know.” Wulfgar shrugged and leaned back against the wall. They were in Rydra’s apartment. They had regrouped there after their foray into King Clive’s castle. After being escorted out of the front gate, Wulfgar had made his way back to the flat, lost in thought.

He’d been a bit overwhelmed by the confrontation with his one-time helper AI. Wulfgar didn’t know what to think. As Duncan Sheriden, he’d been drawn into playing the Omegaverse; first by his friends, then by the breadcrumbs of rewards left by Clive and his associates - whoever they were.

Wulfgar realized that it was a continuation of his entire life.

As an orphan, he’d been shuffled through a series of foster homes and care facilities. He’d never had any control whatsoever over when and where he went.

Even as an adult, his series of mid-level management jobs left him fulfilling the requirements of his superiors.

His entire life had been a series of decisions he had little to no control in making.

“I want,” he began, searching for words, “control over my own destiny. I’m tired of being used for other people’s ends.” He looked up at Rydra, who smiled back at him. “My whole life, I’ve felt like a puppet on someone else’s strings. I’m tired of it.”

“Then you have a golden opportunity, my friend. You are carving your own realm out of this world. What are you going to do with it?”

“Whatever I want.”

“A good answer for yourself, but you are also in the position of needing, I assume, to attract others to your realm, correct?”

Wulfgar nodded.

“Then you’ll need an answer that will make people want to help you. You are,” Rydra scratched his head, “offering ownership, at least partially, to your land. A plot to call their own. How will that interact within your need to be in control of your own destiny.”

Wulfgar shook his head, “I’m not sure.”

“First lesson. Never say that. Changing a plan or direction at a later date is far preferable to not knowing. Always have a plan. Always have an answer. Nobody will follow, for long, someone who has no idea what they’re doing.”

Wulfgar nodded at the truth of it.

“So, offer them ownership, but make them understand that it’s at your pleasure. I’m not sure I’d use the word fealty, but the concept remains. Their ownership is subordinate to yours. You don’t have to spell it out, but make it understood.”

“How?”

Rydra bowed theatrically, “Well, your highness, a kingdom needs a king.”

“King Wulfgar?”

“Just so.”

Wulfgar shook his head, “I kind of hate the sound of it.”

“Irrelevant. Besides, people are already calling you King Wulfgar. The simple use of the title establishes the hierarchy. Give out titles to your friends. There’s a reason that the kings of old did that. It creates incentive. It creates, or at least fosters, loyalty. You have to have that.”

“Plots of land isn’t enough?”

“To attract, not to keep. If you can bestow, it needs to be understood that you can take it away. That helps to ensure their loyalty, and that loyalty is your reward for what you’ve given them. Never forget that.”

“Sounds medieval.”

“It’s older than that. You don’t have to like it, you just have to remember not to abuse it. The abuse of that relationship leads to tyranny.”

“I’m not a tyrant.”

“Few tyrants think they are,” chuckled Rydra, “but for what it’s worth, I don’t think you have the makings of a tyrant either.”

“Enough lessons,” said Rydra, standing, “let’s go through Clive’s loot!”

Wulfgar’s jaw dropped as Rydra unrolled his cloak over the large bed which dominated his small flat. He looked up at the little thief and smiled.

“Not. A. Bad. Haul.”

Rydra laughed, “Not at all, if I do say so myself.” He reached to a chest the size of a bread box and knocked on it, “Gold pieces. A couple hundred at least.”

Given that Wulfgar’s fortune was currently just a few coins, this was a solid and substantial improvement.

“What’s my cut?”

“In this case,” Rydra smiled, “one hundred percent. Consider my cut from this haul to be an investment in the cause.”

Wulfgar laughed, “Your loyalty will be well remembered, Duke Rydra.”

Rydra laughed loudly, “Now you’re getting the hang of it, your majesty.” He bowed low.

Rydra reached onto the loot pile and lifted a small, gold ring. He held it up and looked through it to Wulfgar. It shone brightly, the otherwise un-ornamented gold glittered in the flickering light from the fireplace.

“Ring of Meditation. Plus ten.”

He flipped the ring to Wulfgar, who caught it out of the air. Wulfgar held the ring between his thumb and forefinger and examined it.

Ring of Meditation. +10. Adds ten levels to wearer’s Meditation skill level. This applies not only to meditation rate, but to the cool-down as well. Rare.

Wulfgar whistled, putting the ring on his finger. He felt a little buzz as the ring increased his Meditation level.

You have gained ten levels in Meditation!

He thought for a moment. Soulcatcher. Catcher’s magical circle would benefit from this a great deal, since many of her spells could take advantage of a pre-meditation effect. She was currently building up a Plane Travel spell in order to make an expedition to capture a familiar - a hell spawn Imp. The ring was ideal for her. He smiled; a king needed to bestow presents upon his subjects.

Wulfgar looked back to Rydra and took from his friend’s outstretched hand a long, polished recurve bow. He hefted its balanced weight in his hands and examined it.

Flame Bow. Adds equivalent of Fire Shot spell to each arrow shot. The level of Fire Shot is half the archer’s Archery level. The fire can only ignite and damage flammable objects (this is separate from damage inflicted by arrow). Flame damage depends on flammability of targeted object. Damage continues until flame is extinguished. Epic.

“Holy shit,” murmured Wulfgar, looking up at Rydra, “this thing is, well, epic!”

“It will come in handy if you decide to become an archer.”

Wulfgar shook his head, “I think our Ranger, Connor, will get a lot better use of this.”

Rydra nodded his head and smiled. He reached to Wulfgar and handed him a large, ornate double-axe, “And I assume our Norse friend will get this.”

Wulfgar took the axe.

Axe of Lightning. Adds equivalent of Lightning Bolt to each hit. The level of Lightning Bolt is half the warrior’s Axe level. Lightning damage only applicable to objects susceptible to electrical damage (this is separate from damage inflicted by axe). Lightning damage depends on targeted object susceptibility. Epic.

“Yeah. Snorri is absolutely going to love this thing.”

Wulfgar looked up at Rydra, who was holding his hands forward, wiggling his fingers in the air. On the thief’s hands were a pair of beautifully worked leather gauntlets. They were a soft brown, with black stitching, and went from a tight fitting over the hands to a tied wrist strap. Rydra pulled them off and tossed them to Wulfgar.

Gauntlets of Alacrity. Reduces the time to craft an item by three quarters. Usable by Tailors, Blacksmiths, Fletchers, Woodworkers and Chefs. Rare.

“A little something something for Lauren from me,” chuckled Rydra.

Wulfgar smiled at him and nodded, “She’ll put them to great use!”

“And for you!”

Rydra tossed a small sack onto the bed. Wulfgar picked it up and examined it.

Sack of Herbs. Each herb or natural magical reagent placed within this bag gets ten uses. Rare.

“Natural reagent?” Wulfgar looked at Rydra, one eyebrow raised.

“No idea, man,” he chuckled, “I just steal the stuff, I don’t make it!”

“Hmmm,” pondered Wulfgar, “I guess it means just the normal magical reagents. Herbs, plants, whatever. Stuff like heart of the Revenant wouldn’t be effected.”

“Sounds reasonable. Worth an experiment or so.”

Wulfgar nodded and tied the sack to his sword belt, and shifted it until it was hanging off his right hip.

From his old reagent sack, he pulled out one goat’s rue, one motherwort and one mountain mint. He placed them in the Sack of Herbs. He tossed his old reagent sack back onto the bed, ensuring it wasn’t part of the experiment.

Turning toward the fireplace, he held out his right hand and shot a fire ball into the fireplace. It exploded harmlessly onto the brickwork. He looked into the sack and saw that the three herbs still lay within.

After a second or two, his mana rose enough that he was able to shoot another fireball. A second check of the sack showed the undisturbed reagents. Wulfgar reached into the sack and pulled out the motherwort. As soon as it left the bag, it disappeared from his hand.

Wulfgar nodded, looking up to Rydra, “OK. Looks like the reagent will last for ten uses, but only if it remains in the bag.” He smiled, “So you can’t try to fool the system and pull the herbs back out after only a few uses.”

“Still,” he continued, nodding to Rydra in thanks, “this is a very useful gift, my friend. Thank you.”

“Not a gift! You earned it. Your share of the haul.”

“But what are you taking? All of this seems to be a bit one sided in my favor,” he swept his hand over the loot.

Rydra smiled, “Not all.” He pulled out a short, elaborately decorated black wand. “This I am keeping for myself.”

Wulfgar raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a Wand of Identification. That’s how we are able to read what each of these fine objects are. It reveals the true nature of any object, and that information is permanently available for all players to read. It comes in handy not only for knowing what to steal, but helps get the best price in sale.”

“Handy indeed,” agreed Wulfgar, emptying his old reagent sack into his new one. “I’m worried,” he said to his friend, “about how defenseless we are right now. Until we get the wall finished, anyone can just ride into town and attack us. These gifts will help with that, I think.”

“This, however,” said Rydra, “I have no idea about.” He tossed a loose deck of large cards onto the bed.

Wulfgar gathered them into a stack and began to flip through them. Each had pictures out of Hieronymus Bosch’s worst nightmares. He examined the stack.

Deck of Tarot. Unique.

“That sounds, uhm, ominous.”

“Next thing to a Ouija board,” agreed Rydra. “As I said, I have no idea. No clue what it’s for. How it’s used. Anything at all, really,” the thief shrugged.

“Maybe our Corwin can get something out of it,” said Wulfgar, thinking back to the outrageous luck Corwin had in their game of Texas Hold ‘em.

Rydra nodded, “If nothing else, it seems a fine gift.”

“Shannon,” said Wulfgar. “There seems to be nothing for Shannon.”

Rydra nodded again, “I ran out of time and space. Tell her that our next excursion will give her first priority.”

Wulfgar frowned, “She’ll be OK with it. I just wish I had something for her.”

Wulfgar left Rydra’s apartment after the two had made rendezvous plans for the night. He made his way to Lauren’s shop, carefully avoiding the north-west gate and any guard posts. He thought he noticed a few wayward looks in his direction, but couldn’t decide if he was just being paranoid. As far as he knew, his ‘rebellion’ wasn’t yet common knowledge.

He sidled into Lauren’s shop and looked around. Even though she hadn’t been here for many days, he could still almost feel her presence. He smiled. Looking through the shop, he really didn’t see anything that she would need that her new shop in Marchstone didn’t already have, but he reached to her top shelf and pulled down her magical hammer.

The hammer, which added ten levels to the smith’s Imbuing skill for five uses, had four uses left. Lauren had used it to add a fifty percent chance of inflicting poison damage - damage which was then applied to the wielder as healing - to Wulfgar’s short sword, Shepherd’s Bite. He pushed the hammer into his backpack and made sure there was nothing else in the place that Lauren would want.

He looked around the shop, smiling at the memories he’d had there, and left. Closing the shop door, he worked his way back into the crowded street.

As he moved through the masses of NPCs, he thought to the conversation, the questions, that Rydra had asked him. What did he want? What did anyone want? Freedom. Self determination. For too many - he thought of Tim’s ambitions against his own - that seemed to include leading others. That was not something that interested Wulfgar. He was happy to be part of a team, and he recognized that a team needed a leader; but he was used to a more egalitarian role. As a project manager, he’d always understood that providing incentive worked best. Would that continue for a “King”?

He didn’t see why not.

He had always felt that once you understood a person’s motivations, you were well on your way to understanding them at their core. That understanding was a requirement for a leader.

As much as he liked his new friends, especially Lauren and Snorri, he wasn’t sure, yet, that he understood their motivations. He decided he had to work on that.

Shannon, he thought, was the only person in this entire world that he felt he could absolutely trust. At least, as long as she really was completely Shannon. Clive had previously predicted that she might have not been resurrected whole. That some part of her might not have translated into this world.

Nothing he’d seen had given him any indication that she wasn’t wholly and completely the person he’d been friends with for years outside of the Omegaverse. But how could he know? Clive’s word was suspect. Wulfgar understood that Clive was studying him. Using him. For what end, he didn’t know, but he knew that the King of Edonis was not among those he could trust, even if his ends were benign.

Wulfgar shook his head. He had a lot of thinking to do; and he realized that he probably never would be sure about anyone. At some point he’d have to decide. To trust both himself and some others.

He looked up and read a sign, then smiled and entered a shop.

One of the things Wulfgar knew he needed for Marchstone were the conveniences that players expected of their home base. Lauren provided the Blacksmith services, necessary for item creation and repair. The NPC John Tailor provided a similar service.

Wulfgar looked up at the sign he was now standing under.

Enquire Arenis’ Food Shoppe.

He smiled. Player necessities were only one aspect of the equation - luxuries were another great draw for a new town. He remembered the amazing meals that he’d had, thanks to Snorri, on their trip out to Marchstone, and the delectable food and drink that had been sourced at this very store.

Enquire Arenis was already something of a legend among the players of Edonis. He put every single skill point into the skills required for the creation of incredible delectable delights, and Wulfgar was sure that the man was making a small fortune doing so.

How, however, to entice the man into coming and setting up shop in what was surely a risky venture?

Wulfgar walked through the ornately carved front door, pushing on the bas relief cornucopia dripping with wheels of cheese, bunches of grapes and bottles of wine. A small bell rang as the door brushed past it. The smell of aged meat, cheese, beer, and wine hit his nose like a soft hammer, immediately making his mouth water. He saw a large flank of what looked like beef, dry aging in the corner. Several large racks of wine flanked the doorway. Half size kegs were stacked along one wall.

“Welcome!” boomed a deep voice from within, “Welcome to Enquire Arenis’ Food Shoppe!” A large, dark man winked as he spread his arms wide. He was as tall as Wulfgar and if anything even more muscular, but with the added girth of someone who sampled his wares a bit too often.

“I know, I know,” Enquire chuckled, “everyone asks the same thing. In this world, we can have whatever body we want, so why aren’t I zero percent body fat?” He laughed again, “Because, would you trust a skinny chef?”

Wulfgar smiled back, liking the man instantly. The light from several torches on the shop walls glittered off of Enquire’s completely bald scalp, and the white of his teeth shined through a short, dark beard.

“Besides,” he continued, “I have here a little recipe that will allow you to change your body type, up to a point.” He held up a brown, round chocolate truffle, “Won’t make a human into an orc, or make a man into a woman, but it can add or remove muscle or fat. He chuckled, “A dessert that can make you skinny, ain’t this a wonderful world?” He laughed loudly at his joke.

“Get a lot of demand for that?”

Arenis shook his head, “Nope. None in fact. Most people, I reckon, pick the shape they like before coming into this world. Besides,” he winked, “it’s expensive as shit! The ingredients are pretty rare. I haven’t priced this out yet, but it’d probably be a couple of gold.”

“Why make it then?”

“High difficulty. Best way to raise your skill level. Gained half a level from this batch alone. If I had a stack of ingredients, I’d make these things all day long.”

A little girl ran into the shop from a back room, “I’m hungry daddy!”

Arenis hugged the girl and handed her a piece of jerky, “Go play, sweetheart, daddy’s got a customer.”

The girl smiled up at Wulfgar, who waved and smiled back, then stuffed the meat into her mouth and ran back through the door, slamming it in four year old exuberance.

“Daughter?” asked Wulfgar.

Enquire Arenis nodded, “Aubrianna. NPC. Street kid. Found her wandering around alone. She reminded me of my little girl back,” he paused, “you know. Before.” He frowned.

“Before. Yeah,” answered Wulfgar.

Arenis busied himself wiping up the counter, and sighed, “Anyway. She kind of latched onto me and, to be honest, I’ve grown to love her as well. It’s good to be a daddy again,” he looked up at Wulfgar, “and the weird part is that it seems like she’s adapting as well.”

“How?”

“Little ways. Like, maybe it’s my imagination, but every day she looks a little more like my other daughter.”

Wulfgar smiled at that. Any man who could come to love an NPC and think of it as a real daughter couldn’t be all bad.

“I just wish she had some room. This city really isn’t much of a place for a kid. She needs to play, and not,” he thrust a thumb over his shoulder towards the rear of the store, “in the back room of Enquire Arenis’ Food Shoppe.”

Wulfgar nodded, filing that information away for later.

“Anyway,” smiled Arenis, wiping his hands on his apron, “what can I do for you this fine day?”

Wulfgar shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t know. Buddy of mine gave me some of your tasty grub a while back and I loved it so much I came in to see the shop.”

“Buddy?”

“Snorri. Viking dude.”

The shop keep smiled, “One of my best customers. Haven’t seen him in a bit, though.”

“He’s relocating. You hear about that new kingdom that’s being established out west, in the mountains?”

“Yah. Rumors mainly. Some guy got control of a little village. Plans to setup his own little player town.”

“Crazy, right?”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Arenis shrugged, “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? King Clive kicks his ass out and he loses?” He shrugged again, “Seems like a pretty good risk versus reward situation.”

“I certainly hope you’re right.”

“I thought you might, Wulfgar,” laughed Arenis. “I thought you might.”

“You know me?”

“Well, as I said, I had heard about the little kingdom being setup. I heard it was being done by some guy named Wulfgar. I saw your character sheet,” Wulfgar mentally kicked himself for forgetting about that - they were, after all, still in a game world - “and I did the math. Two plus two. It’s not exactly differential calculus!”

The two of them laughed.

“Guilty. I’m the guy. You have a donut or something that can change my name?”

Arenis laughed, walking from behind the counter, “No. Not yet, anyway. Haven’t seen that recipe. But let me show you what I do have.” He walked into an aisle between two rows of shelves. Wulfgar followed, looking over the various shelves and baskets.

“No baked goods?”

“Not yet. I’m focusing on this stuff for now, I’ll add Baking to my skills later. It’s much harder to raise. Takes a lot of time. I wanted to make sure I got a high skill in as many skills as quickly as possible.”

Wulfgar nodded.

“What we do have here,” Arenis said, pointing out the shelves to the left, “are your various attribute buffs. Jerky to increase strength. Cheese that boosts intelligence. Et cetera, et cetera,” Arenis emphasized each syllable of ‘et cetera’.

“To your right, we offer resistance and skill buffs,” he waved his right arm toward the wall. “The front of the store is just shit that tastes good,” he laughed. “What is it that we can help you with today? Which of these are you looking for?”

“All of it,” grinned Wulfgar.

Arenis’ right eyebrow rose.

“That’s a lot of bank, my friend.”

Wulfgar waved his hands, “Let me explain. What I’m looking for is someone like you who’d be interested in joining my little experiment. I’m looking to have a shop like this,” he spread his hands wide, “to open in Marchstone.”

“Someone like me? There’s nobody like me,” smiled Enquire Arenis.

“That’s why I’m here. I imagine that you have a lot of down time. That you can make a lot of inventory very quickly. That you don’t really need to spend all of your time here, in this shop, just waiting for sales, but that you do so because you don’t go on adventures so that you don’t have much else to occupy your time.”

“Right so far.”

Wulfgar smiled and took a piece of jerky out of a basket on the shelf. He popped it in his mouth - Korean barbecue, his favorite - and began chewing.

“Your strength has increased +2 for two hours!”

“Well,” continued Wulfgar scratching his beard, “I was kind of hoping that you’d be the guy. That you’d be interested in having a little farm of your own. You could grow whatever you need. You’d have room to breath,” he thought of the little girl, “even room to play.”

“Yeah. I get it. My daughter would be better served living there,” Arenis laughed, “but you’re going to have to learn to be more subtle if you’re going to be a king.”

Wulfgar bowed in acknowledgment, “Point taken. But there’s more. Not just can you have a farm and open up a shop in town, I really don’t care if you keep this shop open as well,” whether King Clive would be happy with the situation, Wulfgar didn’t care to speculate upon, “so you’ll have something more to keep your time busy.”

Arenis nodded, stroking his short beard in thought, “That would not be a bad thing.” He looked around, “I can hire an NPC to run this shop and, in truth, can hire someone to haul my goods here. I don’t really need to return here often. Or at all.”

“Plus,” added Wulfgar quickly, raising his right index finger to accentuate his point, “I need some further help. All of the other players are adventurers. I need some more stability for the town.”

Arenis looked at Wulgar, narrowing his eyes in interest.

“I need a mayor. And it needs to be someone who’s not going to be running off on quests like myself and the rest of the adventurers.”

“So you’re appointing me mayor?”

“Lord Mayor. Pro tempore. One of your first jobs would be to come up with a constitution or a magna carta that determines how the town is run. Including elections. But,” Wulfgar cocked his head and smiled, “I can pretty much assure you that the player residents will vote for you.”

“And as king, you’re not above using your influence to sway the NPC vote?”

Wulfgar smiled.

“Well what do you say? Interested.”

“Maybe. I’ll think on it.”

“Just show up. The offer is open unless you hear otherwise. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah.”

“What?”

“That’ll be two coppers for the jerky.”

“Heather, my love!” Wulfgar beamed as he approached the shop counter. The smells of the herbalist’s played and mingled in his nostrils. A wizened lady erupted from between two reagent sacks and leapt toward him. Her arms wrapped around his thighs in a bear hug as the short woman pressed her cheek into Wulfgar’s belly.

“Wulfgar, beautiful lad, how are you? It’s been too long!” She stepped back from him, beaming. She took his left hand in her two and tutted, “Och, you’re skin and bones! Have you no eaten?”

Wulfgar smiled - she was the grandmother he never had.

“And what’s this I hear about you and the King?”

“I have no problem with King Clive, I just want to create my own lands. My own realm,” he thought for a moment, remembering Heather’s background, “a lairdship in the highlands.”

“Oh what a dream! A fine dream!”

“Not a dream. I’m going to make it happen.”

Heather seemed to wipe a tear from her eye, “A wonder. Oh, how I miss my highlands. My people.”

“Join us.”

“What?”

“Join us. Bring your shop. You’ll have all of the business you can handle, and you’ll be among your own people.” He cocked his head and raised one eyebrow, smiling down at her.

“Do you think I could?”

“Why not?”

Wulfgar pulled out his coin sack and spread five gold pieces on the counter beside them.

“Is this enough to pack up and transport yourself and your wares to Marchstone?”

She smiled dumbly and nodded.

“Then it’s settled. Come home, Heather.”

Wulfgar waved and went past the counter and into the shop’s back room. Making his way past several large sacks of herbs, he dropped through a hole in the back wall and into darkness below.

Well, that was easy, thought Wulfgar as his eyes adjusted to the darkness within the rat warren. He began walking, using his perfect recall to remind himself how to get to the cavern where he’d first met the Rat King of Light. He wondered if the ease in getting Heather to agree to join his town had anything to do with any manipulation by Clive. He shrugged off the thought as paranoid, I’ve got enough to worry about without seeing figures in every shadow.

Wulfgar saw figures in the shadows ahead. He was now deeper within the ground as the ceiling of the tunnel no longer topped out at the floorboards of a city building above. The darkness was getting more Stygian by the second. He had been about to activate his Illumination spell when he’d seen the barest hint of movement in the blackness ahead. Instead, he activated Stealth.

Moving quickly, he rapidly came upon the rear-guard of a line of kobolds. Five of them. He could just make out the leader - larger than the rest and in the front of the line. They were creeping slowly through the shadow, heading on the direct route into the Rat King of Light’s throne room. A raiding party. He remembered the fight he’d stumbled upon in that very room the week prior, and how killing the thigh-high creatures had left him nauseated. This game world seemed to give you an unpleasant physical reaction to killing creatures of neutral or good leanings. He wondered if that was the case for players who chose a path of evil. He didn’t think so - they probably took the same feeling of elation from those kills as he did when killing creatures of an evil bent.

He reached behind and grasped Shepherd’s Bite, his short sword that Lauren had imbued with a fifty percent chance per hit of inflicting poison as well as redirecting all damage inflicted back to the wielder as healing at a one to one ratio. The leather-wrapped handle fit neatly into his hand and he slowly pulled it out of its sheath nestled in the small of his back.

Wulfgar bent over the trailing kobold. He knew that his Hidden Stab skill, while giving him a powerful increase in damage applied, also removed him from Stealth. With five enemies, he wanted to remain unseen for as long as possible. He hoped a quick throat slice would prevent Hidden Stab from activating.

Only one way to find out, he thought as he grabbed the kobold from behind with his left hand, his fingers pulling tight over the creature’s mouth and driving the head backward into his own crouched chest while simultaneously reaching around and pulling his short sword across the exposed throat, slicing it wide.

A small wave of nausea swept over him - easier to take now that he was expecting it - and he felt the two small hands of the kobold reach to his hand and begin trying to pull his fingers away.

“12 points of damage!”

“You have poisoned your target!”

He felt the little creature struggle for a moment, then fall still as the poison had its effect. Wulfgar knelt quietly and gently laid the body onto the stone floor. Still in Stealth, he stood and walked toward the next in line. His long legs rapidly took up the distance that the kobolds had covered while one of their party was being killed by the human they didn’t know was behind them.

Wulfgar repeated the movement from the previous kill.

“11 points of damage!”

“You have stunned your target!”

He grimaced into the darkness. No poison on this attack, but at least the kobold was stunned. He quickly pulled Shepherd’s Bite across the kobold’s throat, giving it a twin to the gaping red maw that was pulsing blood rapidly out onto the chest of the creature.

“10 points of damage!”

“You have poisoned your target!”

The kobold collapsed into Wulfgar’s arms. Whatever damage the poison had done, it was minimal - the kobold had been near death after two quick slices of Wulfgar’s blade. He left the second corpse on the ground and trotted forward, eager to kill as many as he could before his Stealth timer ran out.

He came in behind the kobold that had been in the middle of the line of five when they all entered into an open area; a roughly round cavern that Wulfgar recalled was nearing the Rat lair. The leader turned as he got to the center, and Wulfgar moved off to the side and began circling the trio to get behind the boss.

“Where are the others?” hissed the chief. He waved his left hand into the darker passageway that they’d all just left. The other two looked nonplussed, and Wulfgar took the opportunity to move in. By his reckoning, he had around ten seconds left until his Stealth ended.

He thrust forcefully toward the center of the large kobold’s back, and felt his sword jar as it passed between two ribs, hitting the higher one. He jerked the sword out and stepped back.

“Critical Hit!”

“13 points of damage!”

“18 points of damage, Hidden Stab!”

“Your target is stunned!”

The captain fell to his knees as Wulfgar raised his left hand toward one of the pair of kobolds that remained standing. It exploded into flame, flashing light into the almost pure darkness of the catacombs.

“8 points of damage!”

He stepped back, moving his hand over the last undamaged kobold tried to activate his Fire Shot spell again. It fizzled into the darkness.

Shit! Not enough mana! He wouldn’t have enough for two rapid shots until he reached the next level in Sorcery or gained in Intelligence. He stepped forward, into the middle of the trio. The burned kobold growled in pain and the two creatures began unsheathing their short, sharp, weapons. Dropping to two knees, Wulfgar activated Blade Wind and his right arm shot out as he spun in place.

The blade hit the leader first, slicing across the top of the creature’s un-helmeted head.

“5 points of damage!”

“You have poisoned your target!”

His arm swept around and caught the smoldering kobold across the chest.

“Critical Hit!”

“13 points of damage!”

The body flew back against the cavern wall and slumped, dead, as Wulfgar’s body completed the full circle and Shepherd’s Bite impacted the third kobold.

“7 points of damage!”

The creature stumbled backward, dropping its newly drawn blade, and turned, fleeing in terror down the cavern.

Wulfgar grinned into the darkness and stood, activating his Illumination spell. He turned and looked to the ground behind him. To the kobold boss. Wulfgar bent and looked to the now prostrate little brute. As the human watched, the kobold rolled onto its back, breathing heavily and coughing wetly. The poison still coursed through its veins.

“Do you want me to heal you? To cure you of your poison?” asked Wulfgar.

The kobold answered by spitting angrily up at the human. Wulfgar shrugged and stepped over the kobold and walked toward the Rat King of Light’s realm. As he left the little room, he heard the gurgling rattle from its throat as the kobold died.

He ducked through an opening into a much larger room, waiting to be noticed by the crowd of rats surrounding a nest in the middle. On the top of the nest rested the king.

“My lord,” said a voice from his right.

Wulfgar looked down and smiled, “My prince,” he replied, bowing slightly, “so very good to see you again.” He looked closely at the rodent. He assumed that the prince was a cousin to the royal offspring that accompanied him and his friends on their quest to rid the home of a banshee of the lich which had infested it, causing a cascading migration of banshee, faerie folk and rats that had been Wulfgar’s very first chain quest in this world.

What Wulfgar assumed was a smile rose to greet him as the rat prince nodded and began walking toward his father in the middle of the room. Even though his character sheet told him that his reputation with Rats left them in awe of him, it was a little disconcerting to walk among them and have them all bow and back away, making room for him to approach their liege.

He reached the ‘throne’ and bowed his head to the Rat King of Light.

“Hello again, King Wulfgar,” said the rat, bowing his head in return.

So they’ve heard, thought Wulfgar. Makes sense. They are everywhere in the city, if underneath.

“Nothing escapes your majesty,” began Wulfgar, “and it pleases me that you’ve heard of my circumstance.”

“As your elevation pleases us,” returned the rodent king.

Wulfgar again bowed his head in thanks, “I come to you for your assistance, should you feel myself worthy.”

“How may we be of help?”

“Information. I need to know what, if anything, your people hear of my,” he began to say ‘enemies’, but that would remind them of who his enemy was - and he wasn’t enough aware of their relationship with Clive, if any, to presume that they would welcome openly declaring against the city above, “situation. What they hear of my situation,” he nodded. “I need to know if you hear of anything that you feel I should know about.”

“That seems a reasonable request for allies.”

“My thanks. Your alliance is greatly valued.”

“You are now the ally of the Rat King of Light!”

“Is there anything I can offer your majesty in return,” Wulfgar smiled, “in order to celebrate this new alliance?”

“I can think of nothing,” returned the rat, “at this time.”

“You’ll find four dead kobolds in the passageways,” he said thumbing over his shoulder, “let them be an offering of celebration.” He realized that he’d forgotten to loot the corpses. They probably carried no more than a few coppers, but he was in no position yet to look down his nose at that.

That was a start.

Wulfgar thought for a moment. He was planning an extensive underground build out of Marchstone, taking advantage of the natural, existing caverns beneath the town.

“Would you or, perhaps, one of your sons, be interested in establishing the rat people beneath my new town?”

The king looked to the prince, then back at Wulfgar, “That would please us greatly. When could this begin?”

“As soon as you wish,” Wulfgar bowed.

“Excellent. My thanks. My son will arrive there with a group to determine the extent of what we can use. They will arrive within the week.”

Wulfgar nodded his thanks and looked through his character sheet. The rat folk held him in awe and were now allied. His hope was that they would, somehow, function as allies during the coming war. He had seen enough of their ferocity on the Lich quest to be comfortable that they would valuable. He scrolled down the list. He was considered a Dwarf Friend, but wasn’t sure that was enough to count on their assistance in the fight. He would have to add a trip to see the dwarf king on his ever increasing to-do list. He wasn’t sure he had enough time to do everything he needed, even though he seemed to be accomplishing a lot, quickly.

The elves, he saw, held him in suspicion. That was first on his list of things to take care of when he returned to Marchstone. He couldn’t see leaving to chance the reactions of a powerful people who literally lived on the flank of his kingdom - there was nothing preventing a fighting force from leaving the sylvan forests and attacking him from the rear during the fight at the wall. Wulfgar had to resolve that situation. It was vital. If nothing else, he had to at least find a way to ensure that the elves would take no side at all.

He continued through his list. The orcs held him in respect, but that wasn’t in any way the same thing as friendliness. More like wariness. He seriously doubted that he could convince the orcs to side with him. Maybe he could entice them into attacking Clive’s army.

Wulfgar frowned, would dealing with orcs against humans serve to reduce my standing with every other race, including my own?

He wasn’t sure it was worth the risk of being ostracized from the ‘good’ peoples of the world.

He got to the last item on the list. The faerie. They held him in high esteem. Wulfgar looked back up to the king.

“Your majesty. I beg a favor, if you are able. Can you get a message to the faerie folk?”

After some polite chit-chat, Wulfgar left the rats as soon as he felt he could do so without being rude. He still had much to do to prepare himself and Marchstone for what was to come before making his rendezvous with Rydra that night. In addition to attracting new players and NPCs to the town, he had some personal business to take care of.

He stopped for a minute in Heather’s shop to once again reassure her that he was serious about wanting her in the town, and was pleased to see that she was already making preparations. She had hired a couple of men to begin loading the wagon she had already purchased. By her estimate, she would be able to leave Edonis within the next day or so and arrive in Marchstone several days afterward. Wulfgar made a mental note to have one of the town NPC’s prepare one of the empty shops for her use.

Wulfgar left her store and made his way back toward the main square in front of Clive’s keep. Arriving, he worked his way through the crowds and toward the guild hall for the magic users.

After climbing the steps, he pushed through the ornate doors. The first time he’d entered this building, when looking to join the guild, he’d entered into a large room. The room was vaulted, with the four corners of the room each stretching upward with what looked like buttresses that emerged from the ground and expanded as they rose until they met at the center of the roof. From the center, where the buttresses met, a large shimmering black sphere hung on a heavy wrought chain. Directly beneath the sphere a red wooden chair sat throne-like in the center of the room. Surrounding the chair a compass rose was inlaid into the dark marble of the floor. Instead of the cardinal point references, however, the three furthest points displayed three different symbols. Those symbols - a leaf, a star, and a human skull - each represented a different magical path available to him. The paths of morning, night and evening.

The paths of morning and night were, respectively, the paths of nature and power. The path of evening was the path of life and death.

Wulfgar was a Magus of Evening. His chosen path offered him the greatest influence over the creatures of the world.

When Wulfgar pushed through the door, however, he was greeted with a different scene than his previous visit.

“Wulfgar! Welcome!”

The same woman who had greeted him on his initial entrance stood from her seat. Her long ebony hair fell to her waist as she stood, her purple eyes shining. As before, Wulfgar was stunned by her beauty.

He smiled, “I’m at a disadvantage.”

She laughed lightly, “Scarlett.” She held out her hand, Wulfgar took it and shook.

“Nice to meet you. Again.” He looked around the room. It was warmly furnished. Large leather chairs. Wood paneled walls. Like an English men’s club.

He looked back at Scarlett, frowning, “Kind of a different feel from the last time I was here.”

“We redecorated!” She smiled and returned to her seat, waving to the one next to her.

Wulfgar followed and sat, “I assume that the other place was for someone who wasn’t in the guild, and since I am in the guild I’m brought here,” he waved his hands, “to the clubhouse?”

She nodded, “You’re starting to get the hang of this. That we can do some magical stuff. Good for you!” She clapped, smiling happily.

He laughed, sitting back in the comfortable chair. “So what other benefits do I get? From being in the guild?”

“Not many, just yet,” she admitted. “The higher your rank, the more you benefit.” She smiled, “And to anticipate your next question, it has nothing to do with your magical level. It has everything to do with whether the leadership of the guild thinks you worthy and ready for advancement.”

“There’s nothing, really, that you can do to try to influence that decision. It’s taken as a whole, based on everything we’ve observed,” she concluded.

He nodded, looking around the room.

“I assume that most of the members do not gain a leadership role.”

“That would be a fair assumption,” she agreed, “and your role in society has no bearing. Neither you, as a king, nor King Clive have any advantage over anyone else.”

So Clive is in the guild, Wulfgar thought. Interesting.

“You’ve heard about my current situation, then.”

She nodded and smiled again.

“Any thoughts?”

“No. Not really. We’re not a political organization. We don’t take sides. We are completely neutral.”

“Completely?”

“Mmmhmm. No combat is allowed on these premises. Were you here with Clive or one of his supporters, you would both be safe here from the other.”

Wulfgar nodded, glad of the information. He wondered what level Clive was. Clive had admitted that the rules of the world applied to himself as well as others, but Wulfgar wouldn’t be surprised if the alien xenoanthropologist had access to a cheat code or two.

He was brought back to the present by her laughter.

“We really got a kick out of your choice for familiar. A stone troll.”

Wulfgar laughed with her. It hadn’t really been a conscious choice to choose the troll - which he’d named Tim - but there was no going back. He was going to have to make the best of it. He shrugged mentally. Tim had been a valuable addition already, providing him with a much needed skill-set. Wulfgar had no doubt that the dwarves he’d contracted with could build his defensive wall quickly enough, but he also had no doubt that Tim would be a tremendous boost to the effort.

“Is there anything you can tell me about familiars?”

“A little. Your troll won’t be much use in the normal fashion. Most creatures that are chosen have at least some magical benefit. Even cats, which aren’t magical, provide a symbiotic boost to meditation. But a troll?” she shook her head, “They’re entirely non-magical.”

“However,” she continued, “You do have the abilities to control his actions, so you have a nice tank for yourself. That could be handy. Also, as with all familiars, you can see what they see and hear what they hear, in real-time.”

“How?”

She shrugged, “Just will it.”

He did. He closed his eyes and willed himself to see what Tim saw. The darkness of his closed eyes was replaced with a view from the troll’s perspective. Tim was currently cutting through stone like butter, his hands moving through the solid rock. Wulfgar heard the weird, happy, grumbling-humming sound that Tim made while happily working. The troll was busy, still building the wall. Wulfgar decided to check back in later, hoping to see through the eyes at a time that would give him an indication of how the work on the wall was progressing.

“Are there any benefits that come with a basic membership?”

“Sure!” said Scarlett happily, “You have access to the member’s only guild store. Lots of good magical stuff there you can buy.”

“Where is that?”

“Anytime you’re in any of our guild halls, or affiliated magic shops, you can pull up a menu that will show you the current offering. It also has a built in auction function. If you get some nice magical loot you want to sell, you can add it directly to the shop, wherever you are.”

“Even in a dungeon?”

“Yup. You’ll be able to tentatively sell the object from wherever you are, but first you have to at least get to a town or village for delivery. Sale won’t be complete until delivery.”

“How is that handled?”

“Birds. Upon completion of a sale, a bird of appropriate size will meet you, take delivery of the item, and deliver it to the buyer.”

“Handy. What’s the cost?”

“One percent of the sale price. Just enough to cover costs.”

“How does the guild raise other funds?”

“Sale items. Guild leaders can create items for sale. Scrolls, mainly. The guild takes a cut from that and in return the seller gets a big discount on any materials required in creating the item. It works out pretty well for everyone.”

Wulfgar nodded, “Mind if I do a little shopping?”

“Be my guest.” Scarlett sat back in her chair and her eyes became glazed and distant, as she apparently accessed a menu of her own.

Wulfgar closed his eyes and willed the guild shopping menu to open. He began reading down the list, looking for items that would come in handy for himself or his friends. He was going to take Rydra’s generosity of loot and use much or all of it to buy the tools he thought he would need to win the coming fight.

The first thing that caught his attention was a scroll.

Levitation (10). Allows the caster to lift and move an object in space. The duration of the spell is mana dependent. The rate at which mana is depleted is dependent upon Levitation skill level as well as the weight of the object being levitated and the distance of the object from the spell-caster. Increased distance and weight lower the amount of time that the object can be levitated. Restricted to Night. Cool-down 1 minute. Active.

Wulfgar couldn’t think of any particular uses off-hand, except maybe being able to lift large blocks to help in the construction of the wall. Or, maybe, he chuckled to himself, dropping large rocks on advancing troops. That would, of course, depend upon experimentation - the scroll gave no indication of just how heavy an object he could lift and move. That made sense, there were too many variables for an easy answer.

The scroll was fifty gold pieces. An absolute fortune. Mind bogglingly so. It was a level ten scroll, automatically giving the sorcerer - who had to be a Magus of Night, so Soulcatcher - that level of spell ability. If her level in Sorcery was less than that, she would have a percentage chance of failure each time she initiated the spell. Wulfgar kicked himself for not studying the character sheets of his friends before coming on this expedition, then he shrugged - there were no scrolls of Levitation at a lower level, so he couldn’t buy a lower level scroll even if he wanted to.

Besides, he told himself again, Catcher can probably use that to help lift stones and build the wall. We need every advantage we can get.

He pondered for a second, trying to weigh the benefits against the cost.

Screw it, he thought, this thing just sounds too damn useful to pass up.

He purchased the scroll and ensured that it was transferred to his inventory, then continued looking through the list of items for sale. Wulfgar came across another scroll that seemed to jump out at him.

Confer (10). Grants the spell-caster the ability to confer temporary non-magic skill to another player. The skill level granted is half of the current level of the spell-caster’s modified skill level. Duration is one (1) minute per Confer level or the natural duration limit for the skill at the conferred level, whichever is lower. Mana cost is one (1) per level of skill conferred, and skill level transferred is capped at half user level or mana pool, whichever is lower. Restricted to Evening. Cool-down 1 hour.

Wulfgar would be able to grant another player any skill he possessed for ten minutes, and it seemed to indicate that would include any skill level bonuses such as those he received in Stealth from his Clandestine Gauntlets and Slippers. Being able to give someone a quick level seven Stealth would be pretty handy. Of course, since he was only level four in Sorcery, he probably stood a fairly decent chance of failure until he reached level ten.

The scroll was ten gold pieces. Still a hefty sum, but nowhere near the cost of the Levitation scroll. Wulfgar assumed that had something to do with both the difficulty, and thus rarity, in making the scroll as well as the high costs of any materials involved.

He bought it and immediately pulled it out of his inventory, then spread the scroll. After reading it, the scroll disappeared and, he assumed, the spell was added to his spell-book.

He looked back to the list of spells for sale.

Heal (3). Allows caster to heal another being within sight. Damage heals at a rate of one (1) hit point per level of spell skill per second. Mana is drained from caster at one-half the rate of damage healed. Cool-down 1 minute. Ingredients required: (1) Gotu Kola, (1) Goldenrod, (1) Yarrow.

Wulfgar thought that would be especially useful on the wall. Once the fighting started, he would be hard pressed to help heal just by running back and forth applying healing poultices. He saw a potential need to be able cast a heal on any of the people on his side of the wall at any given time.

And it’s only a gold piece! laughed Wulfgar inwardly as he bought and read the scroll.

Wulfgar continued scrolling through the sales list, looking for any spells he thought might help. He was concerned - he had already spent about sixty gold pieces out of the two hundred that he’d received in looting Clive’s palace. There was a lot that he could use to expand and help in the defense of the town, and that could cost a great deal of money as well. He had to factor that against any personal gain he might get from any other scrolls.

Though there were several spells that seemed to jump out at him, he couldn’t justify them against the current need - he really didn’t think a fourth level sorcerer standing on the walls lobbing fireballs and lightning bolts would really make any sort of difference in the fight to come. He sat back to think.

He tried to pull up the Marchstone town management screen, but it was grayed out - apparently inaccessible this far from the town. He sighed.

“Problem?” asked Scarlett.

He explained his conundrum. She nodded.

“I think you’re right, any other small spell you can learn is unlikely to change the course of events. And,” she smiled, “you’ll always be able to buy those scrolls at a later date should you win.”

Wulfgar nodded. As much as he’d like to buy up each and every scroll he was able to use, he couldn’t justify using the gold for that purpose. His head was a swirl of all of the planning that he had to do. Of everything he needed to accomplish in order to get Marchstone not only up and running as a viably self-sufficient community, but one that could withstand the coming fight that loomed over them. He wondered how long he had. What he was missing. What was he forgetting to consider? He felt a bit overwhelmed; like he just needed to reboot his brain to clear it.

“Can you,” he asked Scarlett, “wake me up later tonight? I’m going to take a nap.”

Chapter 2

Wulfgar had sprinted from the guild hall after Scarlett had woken him. He’d slept longer than he wanted, and, although he physically didn’t need the rest, his mind seemed to appreciate the small break. He’d taken the back alleys and unfrequented byways until he’d made the city wall. After an easy climb followed by an ungraceful fall, he’d managed to get to the grove to meet Rydra by their midnight rendezvous before leaving for Marchstone.

Wulfgar spurred his horse through the night, moving down the westward road over the hills and valleys as fast as he dared. After a while he noticed his stamina slowly begin to drop, but he didn’t let up on the horse which seemed indefatigable at first. As the night purpled toward dawn, he passed the village where he had encountered the sorcerer Tim. Even knowing that Tim was in Edonis, currently recruiting and preparing to bring war against Wulfgar and Marchstone, he gave the town a wide berth. He rested his horse occasionally as the beast’s stamina gave out, but the horse recovered much faster than he did. His own stamina finally gave out as he reached the troll bridge on the frontier between his kingdom and the kingdom of Clive, known as Heim.

He dropped from the saddle and bent to the river, drinking deeply of the clear, cool water. His stamina slowly began to rise again as he sat back and looked at the mountains looming just to the west and watched the first light of day move from the top of the peaks toward the valley floor. He breathed a deep sigh; going as fast as possible, he had cut nearly half a day off of his previous trip, a ride which had seemed fast and exhausting to him. He didn’t think the passage could be done any faster, at least not without some sort of magical mount or the Omegaverse’s version of Gandalf’s Shadowfax.

Wulfgar laughed, thinking on the skill his pet Bernese Mountain Dog, Bear, granted him.

Blissful Belly Rub (1). Gives player real-time increase in Stamina regeneration when rubbing dog’s belly. Level equals percentage increase.

He stretched his back out and felt his stamina slowly rising, Man, Bear, I could use you right about now.

The troll bridge caught his eye and his mind began working. Would this make a good defensive position? He looked back over his shoulder. The approaches to the bridge were shallow. There was no higher ground, at least on this side of the river. He wondered if his familiar, Tim, could build him a nice quick and dirty castle keep around either side of the bridge. Make it into a fortress, a battlement, that would turn the river into a border barrier.

He looked back to the river. The water ran through it swiftly; it roiled and swirled. It wasn’t a major rapids, but it was fast enough to make fording difficult - especially for an army. A force of any size would be at a disadvantage while trying to cross.

Wulfgar shook his head. First, he didn’t have time to fortify this crossing - not at the cost of finishing the wall in the high pass, at any rate. The wall was vital.

In any case, a large enough force could afford to send out small parties that would be able to cross the river at different points and Wulfgar would be unlikely to be able to find, much less defend, all of the crossings.

Once a force was able to make the other side of the river, they’d be able to gather on the far side and attack the bridge from both sides. Wulfgar might be able to bring the fight here, but, he thought, the position wasn’t tenable enough that he wouldn’t have to burn through his troops in what was more than likely to be a losing effort.

No, Tim would have to focus on the wall. Wulfgar could, however, put some scouts here. On the other side of the river, with the crossing in view, to let him know when Clive’s forces approached. He made a mental note to remind himself to send someone.

Maybe Connor, he thought, depending upon whether he’s back from his visit to the elves.

At that moment, he received a message.

King Clive of Heim has declared war on King Wulfgar of Marchstone!

Wulfgar nodded. There it was. He was unsure which was the more important point - that Clive had declared war or that Clive had recognized and acknowledged Wulfgar as a king. That had to be an important development. How important, however, he was unsure of - but he was sure that he’d find out before long.

Wulfgar stood, mounted his horse, and spurred over the troll bridge and into his kingdom.

Wulfgar’s jaw dropped. The wall had progressed beyond his hopes. As he rode up the long sward that climbed toward the pass, the original tower rose into his view and was buttressed by a stretch of wall that reached to the northern end of the pass. As he got close, he saw that one full row had been created between the mountainside to just at the front of the keep. That was where they had decided that the drawbridge over the moat would go. The moat that would form from the quarrying of the wall material.

The wall curved slightly, with the mountain-side of the wall forward of the area of the drawbridge - the dwarves had pointed out that the curve on both sides, turning the wall into a shallow “u” with the drawbridge at the center, would allow archers to more easily target any forces massed in front of the gate.

The half wall at this point was only a meter tall, but given that Tim and the dwarves had only been working on the wall in the couple of days since Wulfgar left for Edonis, he was ecstatic at the progress. He now hoped that within the next week a swath of stone would reach the length of the pass, providing a speed-bump for any raid that the enemy might try. It wasn’t enough to stop them, but it might slow them down and would certainly allow his people to shelter within the tower and warn the town of the raid’s approach.

He also had hope that by the time the enemy forces were recruited, trained and moved, the wall might be three blocks high. Three meters. Enough to keep the enemy out. He hoped. Wulfgar spurred his horse and rode toward the keep.

“Owen!” Wulfgar yelled as he rounded the wall. The dwarves hailed him loudly and their boss, Owen, raised an arm in greeting and walked toward the human’s horse. Wulfgar dropped from the saddle and took the dwarf’s massive hand in his own. He only came up to Wulfgar’s waist - he was short even for a dwarf - but he was as wide as the human and powerfully built.

“Welcome back, your majesty. Work proceeds quickly,” said the dwarf, down to business, “and, if I’m honest, beyond my expectations.”

“And mine,” agreed Wulfgar, smiling.

“That troll of yours is a wonder,” the dwarf shook his head in disbelief, still trying to come to terms with working alongside a stone troll - ancient enemy of his people. “He never tires, he never grumbles. He’s here dawn to night and only stops then to eat and regenerate his seemingly endless energy.” He shook his head again, “If I only had an entire crew of him, there’s no telling what I could build.”

“He’s not for sale,” laughed Wulfgar lightly, then looked down at the foreman. “Expect a raid from the valley within the next week or so. End of the week is most likely, but be prepared.” He waved to the keep, “As soon as you see any party of horsemen, take your men and Tim and get into the keep. Lock it up tight and let them go about whatever they want. I can’t afford to lose a single one of you. The wall is too important for the big fight to come, so no heroics.”

Owen nodded, “At your command, but if I happen to find myself a bow and arrows within, I’m not going to forgo taking a few shots at them,” he winked, “you know, just for practice.”

Wulfgar nodded, “As long as you and your men are safe. That’s my highest concern.”

“Additionally,” he continued, looking back to the wall, “I’d like a plan to make the wall into a fortification before it’s finished. I doubt, seriously, that we’ll be able to build it up to the full ten meters before the invasion comes and, truthfully, I’ll be happy if we can get one third that high.”

The dwarf nodded in agreement.

“So, I want you to come up with a plan on how to make a one-third high wall defensible.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll just need some wood to build a scaffolding. That will allow the defenders to stand behind the wall as it is at the time of the battle. It won’t be as solid, but they’ll at least be able to see over to shoot arrows and spells.”

Wulfgar nodded, “Make it happen. Requisition whatever materials you need. Highest priority.”

“One problem, though. That won’t be high enough to support the drawbridge we’re having made, even if it’s complete by the time we need it.”

Wulfgar nodded. “Good point. Shit.” He thought for a moment, “Can we just put wall blocks in there temporarily? Make a complete wall? Then when we’re ready for the drawbridge, remove those stones?”

“Aye. That should work.”

Wulfgar thought of Enquire Arenis, Heather, and whatever recruits that Rydra managed to send, “Do that last. Build out the other side of the wall before closing off the center. We may need to have access through the wall.”

The dwarf nodded, “We can also build a ramp for the front and rear that we can quickly take inside in case of attack. That should let at least foot and horse traffic through, if not carts.”

Wulfgar smiled, “Do it. And thanks.”

He sat on the wall, looking into the moat being dug. Tim the troll was bent, carving out the stone blocks for the wall from the ground to the front of the wall. The dwarves had determined that the soil in the pass was shallow, alluvial. Wulfgar assumed that the pass had once served as the top of a waterfall and that the lake to the north of the village had been deeper at one point.

In any case, the result was that the troll was able to quarry the stone he needed to build the wall from directly in front of where the stones would be laid. That gave two advantages. The first was the the blocks wouldn’t need to be transported from a quarry and the second was that for every block laid there was a correspondingly deep increase in what would become a moat in front of the wall. Owen had suggested they dig down one-third the height and then outward, providing for a moat that was three times as wide as the wall was high. Wulfgar had agreed.

Tim grumbled happily as his fingers seemed to cut through the stone like butter, quarrying it to a perfection that was hard to believe for what looked to be such an effortless process for the troll. The troll seemed in his element, happy to be digging and stacking rocks. Wulfgar shook his head and smiled; however useless Tim might prove as a familiar, he was invaluable from a town management perspective.

Wulfgar looked back to Owen, “Have you had a chance to look through the tunnels beneath the village?”

“Not yet,” he tugged his beard, “but I was planning on sending one of my surveyors down there tomorrow. I had a look at the area from above last night and this morning on our trips to and from the village and,” he scrunched his face, “is my understanding correct that you want a tunnel dug from underneath the lake, through the caverns and to the wall?”

“Yes. Through to the moat. I want to be able to flood the moat.”

Owen looked over his shoulder, toward the north, “The land around the lake looks to be a higher elevation, so getting the water here shouldn’t be a problem,” he chewed his lip, “assuming, that is, the cavern isn’t so deep that the water would have to climb back up to the level of the moat. My surveyor will take that into mind.”

Wulfgar nodded, happy that the dwarf supervisor seemed to have the problems well in hand. He looked up and saw Soulcatcher looking down at him from the battlements of the keep. He smiled up at her and she waved and moved away from the wall. He looked back down at Owen.

“Thanks! I’m glad to see that everything is well taken care of. Thank you, Owen.”

Wulfgar climbed through the tower toward the ramparts. As he passed through the second floor, he noticed that Catcher had already begun turning it into a meditation room. Candles spread in a circle around a dark rug. The rug, two by three meters, had elaborate stitching that showed a constellation of stars, moons and planets in silver thread. It reminded him of the decorations on the door of the Night path within the magic user’s guild. That made sense - Soulcatcher was a Magus of Night.

He pushed through the uppermost opening and onto the roof of the keep. Catcher was leaning against one of the battlement’s merlons. She smiled at him and waved.

“Hiya! You’re back soon.”

He nodded, “I pushed myself as hard as I could. Just left Edonis around midnight.”

She looked at the position of the sun, then back to him, “Wow! That’s about twelve hours of hard riding.”

He smiled, “It was tiring, but kind of meditative.” His arms rose in a stretch and he yawned, “Speaking of which, I notice you’ve got your meditation room setup below. Nice! Like the rug.”

“Not sure it goes with the decor,” she laughed, “but it doubles my mana regeneration rate. Pretty handy for meditating on long term spells.”

“That reminds me,” he dug through his inventory, “I got you a little something. Well, to be honest, Rydra picked this up for us the other night when we looted King Clive’s treasure room,” he winked. He tossed a tiny gold ring to her, and she lifted up toward the sun and examined it.

Her jaw dropped. She looked back at Wulfgar. “Plus ten meditation?” A huge smile broke across her face, “This thing,” she seemed at a loss for words, “well, let’s just say that it will be very helpful in setting up those spells we talked about.” She pulled the ring onto a finger on her left hand and seemed to purr with happiness as her skill increased. “With my rug and the boost that this gives my regeneration rate,” she paused for a second, calculating, “I should almost be able to meditate continually and counteract the drain from prepping spells like plane travel.”

Wulfgar wondered just how high her meditation level was.

Soulcatcher. Level 11. Magus of Night.

He scrolled down through her skills.

Meditation (34+10)

Wulfgar was surprised. That was the highest skill level he recalled seeing. She must spend a lot of time meditating. And the ring increased her ability by a great deal as well, in addition to whatever efficiency boost her rug gave her.

To be able to meditate continually while preparing a spell would increase her effectiveness - not having to worry about any cool-down period would make her into a meditating machine.

“Almost continually,” she corrected. “Maybe in a few more levels. As it is, I should be able to meditate and cast for hours at a time. My mana will go down really slowly.”

“Only works for spells you can work on while meditating though, right?” he asked. “I mean, since you have to be perfectly still to meditate, you can’t be moving around dropping fireballs on everyone, right?”

“Correct. It will only work with spells that can either be pre-cast, like plane travel, or that can be cast while sitting perfectly still.”

“Speaking of spells,” he laughed, going once more into his inventory, “I have another little present for you.” He pulled out the Levitation scroll and handed it to her.

“You’re kidding, right?” she gasped. “This thing must have cost a fortune. A large one.”

He nodded, “It’s a big investment. But it’s an investment in the town’s future. Before you read that, I need to have your word that you’re going to be based here for the long-haul. I mean, you can adventure all you want, but not until after the war. I need you,” he looked at her and nodded gravely, “and this is to be considered a benefit you get from committing to the town and its defense.”

She looked out over the valley toward Edonis, “I was planning on doing that anyway. This place is just what I was looking for. In addition being able to build something of value and importance here, I have my own place,” she spread her arms down around the tower and looked back to Wulfgar, “not to mention the ley lines.”

Wulfgar nodded, remembering her description of the ley lines. That they were like magical energy fields that stretched through the world and in some places converged for greater power. How they gave a Magus of Night a bonus in magical energy. That they improved the ability for the sorcerer to concentrate and prepare spells that benefited from long periods of concentration before being cast. The room below allowed her to spend a great deal of concentration, meditation and time preparing to launch a spell. The ley lines simply improved on that ability.

“So, yeah. I’m in, Wulfgar.” She read the spell, and the scroll disappeared from her hands and into her spell book. She looked at him and laughed, “What if I change my mind later and decide to leave the town.”

“Then you owe the treasury of Marchstone fifty gold pieces,” he laughed, “plus interest.”

“Deal,” she smiled, then stopped. “Wait a second, I just had a thought. With my meditation ability and this new levitation spell …” She looked into the distance, lost in thought.

“Yes?”

She thought for another few seconds, “I might have an idea of something I can do.”

“What?”

“Let me test it out a bit. I’ll get back to you.” A huge grin broke out over her face, “But if I’m right, oh man, this will be awesome!”

Wulfgar spurred his horse away from the tower, toward the town of Marchstone. He waved over his shoulder to Catcher, still beaming on the top of the keep. She waved back happily then disappeared from view, heading down into the meditation room. Unable to get any more details from her about the cool thing she thought she might be able to do, he reminded her that her first priority was to focus on the plane travel spell that the group would use to go to the plane of hell she thought would be the best chance of capturing her a familiar - a demon-spawn imp.

Wulfgar wanted her to have every magical edge when the time for the war came; he had no idea how many mages that the army of Clive would have, and he worried that they might be overwhelmed by magical power. They needed to get every advantage, and they needed to travel to hell before resurrection was turned off in a week - no, six days, he reminded himself. Time was slipping by too quickly, he had far too much to do.

He had also promised her a nice villa near the wall and her tower. One sufficient unto the new title he had bestowed upon her - Knight Sorcerer of the Kingdom of Marchstone. He had made up the words on the spot, but they seemed to please her. She joked that she was happy to have the role, as long as she didn’t have to change her name to Merlin. Wulfgar had almost made her an Earl or a Duke, but he thought he needed to start off small - that way they could be promoted over time. So he decided that each of his friends would start off with a knighthood and gain greater rank as time went on, assuming they earned it. He smiled; there was a lot more to being a king than he’d ever imagined, especially since he never in his life ever imagined that he would someday become a king.

His horse ambled over the small bridge fording the stream that ran from the mountains to the east toward the great lake in the north. Wulfgar didn’t imagine that this small stream actually fed the lake in any significant amount. Exploring the valley, which he assumed was the extent of his kingdom, was high on his to-do list. After the war. Assuming, that is, the valley was still his after the war.

He sighed as he rode through the little village. The buildings on both sides of the square were open to the warm day. The people, the NPCs, of the village waved and bowed as he passed. He smiled and waved in return. Reaching the inn, he hopped off the horse and strode through the door. A large lunchtime crowd roared in greeting as he entered. He smiled again, and waved, again.

“Hail King Wulfgar!” shouted Snorri from the long table where he sat among the other players of the town. Except for Catcher and Connor, it looked like the rest of the crew was here. As the crowd hailed, Bear jumped up to Wulfgar and put his front paws over his human’s shoulders and dragged his pork-loin sized tongue from Wulfgar’s chin to his forehead.

“Hey buddy! I missed you too,” he hugged the dog and scratched his furry chest. The dog dropped back to the ground and returned to the fire, where he turned around twice before dropping with a sigh back to the nap that the king’s arrival had interrupted. Shannon’s tiger, sitting in the corner, washed itself; patently ignoring everything that the humans in the room were doing.

Wulfgar pulled a seat, coincidentally at the head of the table, and sat back and sighed in happiness. He took a quick pull from the mug that the bowing serving girl placed in front of him and sighed again, enjoying the dark ale.

If Enquire Arenis can brew an ale better than this, he mused, that alone will make getting him to move to the town a great accomplishment.

He looked to his friends around the table, all smiling at him.

“You did it, you magnificent bastard,” continued Snorri, shaking his head in disbelief. “It was you, right? You got them to turn resurrection on again?”

Wulfgar smiled and nodded and his friends cheered again.

“And in doing so got us all declared rebels and at war with Edonis. You don’t really do much halfway, do you?”

So they got the declaration of war message. I wonder if all players got it. Soulcatcher didn’t mention it, but maybe she was meditating when it came through. Or maybe it just slipped her mind.

He looked back up at Snorri, “No. Nothing halfway. Halfway is for pussies.”

His friends laughed.

“And,” he continued, opening his inventory, “I come bearing gifts.”

“Fat loot!” screamed Lauren.

“Fat indeed,” said Wulfgar, pulling out a pair of gloves. He handed them to Lauren.

She squealed as she read the description, “These are awesome. Thank you.”

“Don’t leave us hanging,” said Corwin from the end of the table, “what are they?”

“Gauntlets of Alacrity. Reduces the time to craft an item by three quarters. Usable by Tailors, Blacksmiths, Fletchers, Woodworkers and Chefs. Rare.” She waved the gloves happily above her head before pulling them onto her hands, “This will make a huge difference. Thank you so, so much, Wulfgar.”

He shook his head, “I expect that you’ll be putting them to good use. For the town,” he paused, remembering Rydra’s words about establishing himself as the leader, “for the kingdom. I have every faith that you’ll use them to further our cause,” he looked around the crowd at the table, “as will all of you.”

He looked to a face that he’d seen once before, but it had been distinctly less animated at the time.

“Galad, right?”

The man nodded and smiled.

“I’m afraid I have nothing in this goody bag for you,” he looked to Shannon, RaNay, and nodded at her as well, she smiled in understanding, “but you’re on my list for future reference.”

“You got me resurrected and, from what I’m told, carried up from the snake den below,” he smiled, “that’s one hell of a gift, as far as I’m concerned.”

Wulfgar bowed his head, then looked the man in the eyes, “Be that as it may, if you plan on staying here to help us,” he assumed that his friends had filled him in on the situation, “I’m going to get you everything I can in order to help you help us.”

Galad smiled and nodded and Wulfgar looked at him closely for the first time. He had light, curly hair and a medium length beard. Wulfgar thought that, more than anything, he kind of looked like Robert Plant. He pulled up Galad’s character sheet.

Seventh level Magus of Morning, he read. The first morning sorcerer I’ve met, as far as I know. I need to learn what kind of skills he brings to the group.

“Hey, is Lauren the only one who gets fat loot?” asked Snorri, shaking Wulfgar’s shoulder and bringing him back to the present.

Wulfgar smiled and took another pull from the mug. He wiped beer foam from his beard and reached back into his inventory. He laughed at the look of drooling greed that came over Snorri’s face as he saw the huge, elaborately decorated, double-bladed, battle axe Wulfgar pulled onto the table.

“I thought Corwin might like this,” he said, deadpan.

“What?” shrieked Snorri, crestfallen. “Are you kidding?”

“Maybe,” smiled Wulfgar.

Snorri picked up the axe and began reading.

“Axe of Lightning. Adds equivalent of Lightning Bolt to each hit. The level of Lightning Bolt is half the warrior’s Axe level. Lightning damage only applicable to objects susceptible to electrical damage, this is separate from damage inflicted by axe. Lightning damage depends on targeted object susceptibility. Epic.”

He looked up at Wulfgar, his jaw dropped.

“Hell. Fuck. Damn,” he whispered, then shook his head, “I can’t think of anything else to say.”

“Snorri struck dumb?” laughed Lauren, “There’s a first time for everything.”

Wulfgar laughed, happy. “I stopped off at the tower and gave Catcher her loot. A nice plus ten ring of meditation.” He didn’t mention the Levitation scroll. He didn’t consider that loot, but an investment in the defense of the valley.

“Nice,” whistled Galad.

At that moment, the door to the inn opened. Wulfgar looked over his shoulder and saw Connor, the ranger, framed and back lit by the sunny day. He moved to the table, pulling his green hood off of his head and letting it drop to his back. He pulled out a chair and sat with a sigh next to Wulfgar.

“Just in time,” smiled Wulfgar, putting his hand on the ranger’s shoulder. “We’re giving out some presents that Rydra and I lifted from King Clive’s treasure room.” He pulled a bow and handed it to the man.

Lauren leaned in toward Connor and read, “Flame Bow. Adds equivalent of Fire Shot spell to each arrow shot. The level of Fire Shot is half the archer’s Archery level. The fire can only ignite and damage flammable objects, this is separate from damage inflicted by arrow. Flame damage depends on flammability of targeted object. Damage continues until flame is extinguished. Epic.”

“Twins!” shouted Snorri. “Well, kind of.”

“Fraternal twins,” laughed Lauren. “You guys seemed to get very similar weapons. Axe of Lightning and a Bow of Fire.”

Connor looked at the bow, appraising it, “This is amazing, thanks.” He looked up to Wulfgar, “I’m not sure, however, that I deserve it. I failed in my quest.”

Wulfgar raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Well, I know I’ve only been gone a couple of days, but I managed to get pretty deep into the elven forest. I couldn’t find a single track. Not a sign of any elves. My tracking skill is just too low. I haven’t been able to help at all.”

“First,” said Wulfgar holding up a finger, “the bow is yours. Assuming you are willing to commit to this town and its defense, that’s what it’s for. We’re going to need it, and you.”

“Second,” he raised a mate to his first finger, “even learning what you did is more than we knew at the start. We know now that we can’t just walk in and hope to find some elves and start talking. We just have to figure out how we can go about finding them.”

“I think I can help with that,” said a voice from the door.

For the second time in as many minutes, Wulfgar turned and looked to the doorway. Rather than a nearly two meter tall ranger, the door framed a much smaller personage.

Wulfgar rose and turned, smiling broadly.

“Bael!”

Wulfgar offered the faerie prince his chair, but Bael flitted, seeming to float, up to the table and sat cross legged on the corner next to the chair. Wulfgar took his seat again and looked at him. The prince was, there was no other way to say it, beautiful. His delicate features seemed enhanced by the constant serious gaze he gave everything. He had a gravitas well out of proportion to his size. Wulfgar thought of Bael’s brother, Tane, killed in their quest against the Lich. His heart swelled in affection and respect for the little people. There had been absolutely no condemnation of the humans by the faerie in losing one of their princes in defense of the big people.

“Welcome, Bael,” he began, then introduced the prince to the rest of the table. Snorri and Lauren greeted him warmly, the rest with a little awe. Wulfgar noticed that RaNay’s tiger, Schwartz, finally took an interest in something besides grooming and looked at Bael with great interest. He caught RaNay’s eyes and looked toward the big cat.

Shannon looked to the tiger then back at Wulfgar, shaking her head and smiling. Wulfgar took that to mean that Schwartz wouldn’t attack anything without her command.

“What brings your happy visit?” asked Wulfgar, turning back down to the prince.

“We got word of what was happening. I thought I’d come to see for myself.”

Thank you, Rat King of Light! thought Wulfgar, happy that the message had been delivered so quickly. He glanced toward the door, still standing open to the day outside. There was no sign of any other faerie, though Wulfgar acknowledged that was not a real indication that Bael came alone - the faerie were masters at moving silently and invisibly. He wondered idly what their Stealth skill translated to in terms of his own; no doubt, he concluded, that theirs was in many ways superior.

Not to mention their travel speed, mused Wulfgar, amazed at the rapidity at which Bael had arrived. He had only asked the rats to send word the day before; the faerie must have the ability to plane travel. He’d have to remember to ask about that, and whether Bael could assist Catcher.

“We’re ecstatic that you have chosen to do so,” smiled Wulfgar.

“Thank you. In any case, I can help with your problem. The elves will not reveal themselves to someone merely moving through their forests. At least,” he smiled, “as long as they don’t feel you a threat. If they do, they will reveal themselves to your corpse after they’ve killed you.”

“How, then,” asked Wulfgar, “do we meet with them.”

Bael thought for a moment, “You could probably walk through the forest, shouting that you want to talk. But that’s as likely to get you an arrow through the throat as not.” He smiled up at the humans, “Or you could accompany someone who they see as a cousin.”

“You?” Wulfgar smiled.

Bael nodded, “The folk have a long history with the elven kind. We are more alike than the rest of you. More alike than you are to dwarves, for example.” He scratched his head, “In any case, I would be happy to accompany you on your trip,” he looked up at Wulfgar.

“Me?” If he could send just Bael, that would help him out a great deal in working through his to-do list.

The faerie nodded, “The elven folk are as prickly as my own people. They take offense easily. Were you to send a ranger,” he looked up at Connor, “no offense, to treat with their king, they would undoubtedly take that as an insult. The only way that you can possibly hope to succeed in coming to terms with the elven folk is for your king to speak with their king.”

“As equals,” nodded Wulfgar.

Bael fell backward onto the table, convulsing in laughter. After a moment, he sat back up and wiped tears from his eyes, “The elven folk will never see anyone else as equals. No, they will merely accept that sending your king is the best that an inferior race can do.”

“Inferior?” asked Snorri.

“They see everyone else as inferior. And not just by a small margin. Even the faerie. We are all little better than the animals of the wood, and,” he tilted his head, “in some ways even inferior to them.”

Wulfgar nodded in thought. If he needed to go to the elves, then he needed to leave as soon as possible. Today. He looked around the table. Snorri was needed here, to train the NPCs for the coming fight. Lauren was needed to equip them. He paused.

“Lauren, while I’m thinking of it, can you send a dozen bows and a few hundred arrows to the keep? The building party has been warned about the coming incursion and needs to be ready to defend themselves.”

“For sure,” nodded Lauren, then looked up at Wulfgar. “Incursion?”

Shit, thought Wulfgar, cursing himself for his forgetfulness, I need to be more organized than this.

He brought everyone up to speed. About how Tim the sorcerer was the general of King Clive’s army, and that he was immune from the resurrection ban. That Tim was planning on a suicide mission; a reconnaissance of Marchstone to take place before res was turned off. He told them everything - except that Rydra was working both sides in favor of their own. That was need to know information that he didn’t think would do any good to be spread and could, indeed, cause a great deal of harm.

“Fuck,” groaned Snorri. “Tim. That asshole.”

“Yeah,” agreed Wulfgar, “so I need you to keep training the folks. Prepare for that attack in the next few days. Come up with a plan for defending the town. As I said, the dwarf crew is already aware and they’re going to run into the keep as soon as they see anything. They’ll use the bows that Lauren sends to do as much damage as they can without putting themselves in any danger.”

He looked around the table, “Has everyone bound at the local church?” He smiled at the player nods from around the table. Bael, as all NPCs did when players spoke of player specific information, seemed to be lost in thought and not following that part of the conversation.

“Lauren, you just keep making weapons and armor. Has Snorri given you his list of needs?” He smiled at her nod. “Good. I imagine that the only defensible place in town right now is the keep behind the inn.” He looked at Snorri, “That’s probably the logical place to retreat to when you get word. Catcher will try to send notice when she hears of the probe, if she can. But don’t count on it.”

Snorri nodded, “Not a problem. We should also move all of our supplies and weapons there now. Hell, anything of value needs to be put in there until the wall is built.”

Wulfgar nodded, taking another drink from the mug. He put it down, empty, and was pleased to see that another took its place. He looked up at the barmaid and smiled, “What’s your name?”

“Rosie, your highness,” she bowed and backed away, to continue running food and drink from the kitchen.

Is every barmaid in this world named Rosie? thought Wulfgar, laughing inwardly. He hoped Rosie would be OK through the coming conflict. He hated that he had brought this on people who were happily living their previous, albeit AI, lives a week ago. Can’t be helped. But at least we can do everything to prepare and protect them.

“Good,” said Wulfgar, looking back at Snorri, “I think we should probably focus on archery now. Maybe work on training defending walls after this week. I think there are already hundreds if not thousands of arrows and a bunch of bows in the keep,” he thumbed his hand over his left shoulder toward the rear of the inn. He remembered the circular barracks and weapons store room in the tower, that he’d explored before going into the catacombs and taking the march stone from the giant snake, giving him control of the town.

Shit, I forgot about the snake. How the hell is that going to play into what was coming? Another item added itself to Wulfgar’s growing list of concerns.

“Connor and Corwin. Can you accompany me and Bael on a trip to visit the elves?”

The ranger nodded and the dark man at the end of the table said, “Sure, but I’m not sure how much help I can be.” He scratched his chin, “Unless having a high level of luck will help make the elves like us.”

Wulfgar smiled, reaching into his inventory once again, “I’m sorry, I almost forgot you.” He pulled out the large format deck of cards and passed it down the table to Corwin. “I have no idea what help this will be, if any, but this is what Rydra and I got for you from the treasure room.”

Corwin turned over the deck and began spreading the cards on the table, “Neither do I. Never even heard of a tarot deck, at least,” he smiled, “not in this world. I’ll play around with it and see what I can see.”

“Play carefully,” added Bael, standing and walking lightly to the other end of the table. “I don’t know what these can do, but one must always take portents and signs warily.”

Corwin looked down at the faerie and nodded.

Everyone’s eyes were suddenly drawn as a figure burst through the doorway.

Wulfgar looked up in surprise as Catcher ran breathless to the table.

“Holy shit, Wulfgar, I was right. And it is incredible!”

Chairs screeched as the entire group rose as one to follow Catcher outside of the inn. Even the animals seemed curious, and Bael dropped onto Bear’s back, scratching the dog behind an ear. Schwartz took the lead, and the rest followed him through the door.

Catcher was about five meters from the door, near the fountain in the middle of the town square. She was smiling broadly, hands on hips, as she stood on the far side of her carpet. The sun glinted off of the silver threads as she knelt to wipe away some dust. She looked up at Wulfgar.

“I know you said that prepping plane travel was my top priority, but I just had to see if I was right.” She stood again and walked to the other side of the carpet, standing just in front of Wulfgar, “And I was. Oh, man, I was.”

“About what?” asked Lauren, moving toward the side.

“Well,” Catcher began, “Wulfgar picked me up a Levitation spell in town and I thought I might be able to,” she paused, turning toward the group, “well, maybe it’s easier just to show you.”

She stepped forward onto the carpet and sat, cross legged, about one-third the way back from the fountain side. She turned and motioned to Wulfgar, “Just you, sit about halfway between me and the edge.”

Wulfgar moved to the the location Catcher pointed out and sat, mimicking her position. He smiled up at the crowd, “I think I know what she’s doing.”

“We all do,” laughed Snorri. “Get on with it!”

Catcher smiled and turned her head facing forward. After a moment, the rug began to raise, moved vertically by Catcher’s Levitation spell. It began to move, slowly at first, toward the other end of the town while it gained altitude. At about five meters, it leveled off and gained speed, until it was moving at about thirty kilometers per hour. It rapidly reached and crossed the little stream then turned toward the north. Wulfgar kept very still, knowing that any shift in weight could throw off their balance and cause very bad things to happen. After several seconds of slowly rotating as they moved forward, they were now heading due north.

“I’ll assume that you are meditating and can’t speak,” he began as his realm flew by beneath him, “so let me guess what’s happening. You are levitating the carpet and, thus, the two of us. The spell is draining your mana, so you are meditating to try to counteract that. The carpet is adding to your meditation regeneration rate, which is why you’re using it, not out of some devotion to a Thousand and One Nights,” he laughed, referring to the ancient tale of Prince Husain, the eldest son of the Sultan of the Indies who traveled to Bisnagar in India to buy a magic carpet.

“If I’m correct so far, do absolutely nothing and keep perfectly still.”

Her back began to shake, then she laughed loudly, “Jerk! Now I have to wait for my Meditation cool-down!” She looked over her shoulder and smiled, “Yes. You have it right. We have a magic flying carpet.”

The carpet began to lose airspeed and altitude and came to rest just to the south of the great northern lake. They had followed the coastline for several kilometers - the lake, better viewed from the air, traced a line to the northwest from near the town toward the elven forest in the distance.

“Great idea, Catcher. I’m impressed.” Wulfgar stood and walked to the shore, then bent and cupped some water in his hand. He turned back to Catcher after drinking, “I can only imagine how helpful this is going to be for all of us.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, “but I can’t really take full credit for the idea.”

“Arabian Nights?”

She shook her head, “Nope, not really. It’s from a book series I read.”

“Which one?”

“Do you recognize my name?” Soulcatcher asked coyly. She smiled as Wulfgar shook his head, “Then you wouldn’t know the books.” She looked down at the carpet, “Anyway, I flew around a little before I came to the inn, and it felt like I could almost counteract the mana drain from Levitation through my Meditation skill and this rug,” she held up one hand, finger extended, “and this ring. I also noticed that if I got any faster than about what we were doing, the wind resistance moved me too much to keep meditating. I assume there will be similar problems going very high due to shivering from the cold or high winds aloft. But I could cover a great deal of distance pretty quickly by myself.”

“However,” she continued, “when flying with you, the mana drain was noticeably heavier. I could probably keep it up with two people for an hour or two. We’ll have to do some test flights.”

He nodded, “We can do a quick one now. I’d like to get a fast look at this valley. I need to know exactly what I’m working with here.”

“Take a seat and return your tray table to the full and upright position. My cool-down period is over and Soulcatcher Airways is ready for service.”

They crossed the lake to the north as quickly as Catcher dared. She had explained to Wulfgar that even being nudged out of her meditative state wasn’t an immediate disaster, it simply meant that her mana would drain at a higher rate. A much higher rate, but still manageable. With the two of them aboard, she thought she still had between five and ten minutes of flight time; flying by herself probably a half an hour or more. And without having to be still, she could fly much faster. Though flying faster would, of course, drain her mana more quickly. There seemed to be no best option, but at least if she lost her concentration over the lake, they could make it to the nearest shore before she had to put the rug down.

She turned the carpet to the east once they reached the northern boundary of the lake, probably twenty or thirty kilometers north of the town. The lake had a small island, probably a few acres, in the middle, but was otherwise nothing but water. The mountain chain to the north fronted the lake-shore and rose precipitously from the water’s edge all the way to the west where the mountains curved away from the lake as the shoreline ended and the elven wood began. The pass through to the forests looked a kilometer or more wide, then the mountains rose again to the south to run unbroken to the pass where Wulfgar’s wall was being built. To the east, the mountains slowly curved around toward the south, hemming in the huge lake, until they passed the village and nearly met the other chain at the narrow pass that was the only southern route into his kingdom.

So, apart from the pass he was fortifying, there was only one way into his realm - through the elven wood. As they flew to the east, however, he had to amend his view. A high waterfall slowly revealed itself on the northernmost edge of the chain. It fell from a height of probably one hundred meters into the lake below.

Without having to be asked, Catcher increased the altitude of the carpet and made their way over the falls. Wulfgar saw a river valley that had cut its way through the endless mountains to the north. On either side of the river, a small swath of grassland framed the water from the mountains above. Catcher pitched the carpet toward one of the verges and landed.

“Probably a good idea,” she said, stretching, “to go ahead and refuel. Let my mana rise up.”

“How low were you?”

“About twenty five percent or so. I likely could have made it all the way back to town, as the crow flies, but best be safe.”

Wulfgar nodded. They had been flying for around forty minutes. That gave Catcher a time of flight of around an hour with two people on the carpet. He looked to the south over the roaring mist of the falls that dropped from sight. The land on the other side of the lake was just visible as a faint, green line. The buildings of Marchstone village were much too far away to make out. The lake seemed to take up from between a half to two-thirds of his kingdom. He’d have to explore it; see what it offered.

He stretched. Once he had finished this business with Clive, he thought he should establish a fishing village on the southern side of the lake. Build some stone row houses on the shore. That would attract players to join his kingdom. Maybe build a nice big castle on the island. The more he thought of it, the more he liked it. Turn the entire island into his personal royal estate.

He shook his head. Those kind of plans were for later. What could the lake offer him now? For the fight to come. He couldn’t think of anything off-hand, though he was gratified to see that the mountains ringed his entire kingdom - at least he didn’t have to worry about an amphibious assault from the north. The valley was secure, or would be once he finished that damn wall.

He turned to the north. To the river valley that fed the lake. His lake. The river was something else he would have to explore. He decided he would send Connor through to see what was up there after the war. He turned back to Catcher, smiled, and sat on the carpet.

“Ready when you are, captain!”

Catcher brought the carpet in over the town, having skirted down the eastern side of the mountains, just so that Wulfgar could ensure that it was indeed an unbroken chain that circled back to the north and then to the west until the elven wood. The flight back had taken thirty minutes, and had shown nothing of further interest on either the lake or the shoreline, which suited Wulfgar. Now that he knew that his realm was indeed encircled by high mountains except for two entry points, one of which was currently being fortified, he was a little more relaxed.

But only a little. There still remained the elves to the northwest. That was next on his list.

He stood, hopped off the carpet and turned.

“Thanks Catcher, that was wonderful.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you, again, for the scroll.” She smiled as the carpet rose again, bringing her face level with his own, “And you don’t have to tell me. I need to go back to my tower and get back to preparing the plane travel spell, right?” she grinned.

“Only if you want to try for a familiar before res is turned off,” he laughed.

Catcher turned the carpet and sped off. He watched as she leaned forward, foregoing meditation for speed, and rocketed away through the town and over the bridge. She was soon lost behind the buildings, moving much faster than she had with a passenger.

Well, thought Wulfgar, at least I don’t have to worry about whether or not she’ll be able to get word to us in case of attack. We’ll probably know within a few minutes of her knowing.

He turned back to the inn, working through possible uses a flying carpet had for the coming fight. He wondered if he could turn it into some sort of medieval B-52, dropping reams of nasty things on the invading army far below. That was one more thing to think about.

He pushed through the door and entered the tavern, and was unsurprised to see everyone waiting for him.

“Well,” asked Lauren, “how did it go?”

“Amazingly well,” he then gave them a complete rundown of the flight and the reconnaissance of the entire land. He brought them up to speed on his thinking and his plans, even mentioning the village by the lake.

“I mention that, because, I’ve decided that what I’m going to do is setup a bunch of quests through the town management system. The quest will be win the war or something like that. The reward will be a plot of land. I’m telling you that now, so that you guys can sign up first. To make sure that you each get the land that you want.”

Lauren turned and stuck out her tongue at the group, “I’ve already got mine!”

Wulfgar laughed, “You do, but that’s a different matter. That’s your shop. It’s what you get for running your business. You deserve that for outfitting our army with weapons and armor. You can also sign up for your own land. So you can build your own home. Whatever you want.” He remembered when they had first walked through Edonis together and she had expressed a wish to someday have one of the townhouse mansions that lined the walls on the caves of Edonis between the landward and seaward sides. He wondered if a similar house, but on the shore of the lake, would be just as good.

Assuming she’s just not living with me in the island palace, that is.

In any case, whether they became a long term couple or not, she deserved to have some land and her dream home.

“Speaking of shops,” he continued, still looking at Lauren, “can you setup two of the shops on the square for a couple of new arrivals I hope will be here in the next week?”

“For sure. Who’s coming?”

“The first is Heather the herbalist. I convinced her to leave Edonis and setup a store here.”

“Sweet!” whistled Galad.

“And the second is Enquire Arenis.”

“You’re kidding,” gushed Snorri. “He’s moving here?” The big viking sat back and rubbed his belly in anticipation.

“I hope so. I asked him and he seemed interested. I asked him to function as mayor,” he looked around the table, nobody seemed bothered by it, “since he’s pretty much committed to staying in one place. That will allow us to go off and adventure while leaving a player here, in charge and in control.”

“That’s a lot of trust to put in one person,” said Corwin, “are you sure you can trust him?”

“No. Not yet anyway,” admitted Wulfgar. “I’m not going to be giving him the keys to the kingdom any time soon. And he already understands that his first role is to define his role. What he can and can’t do. And that we all have to agree on it.”

“So this is a democracy?” asked Connor.

“To an extent.” Wulfgar smiled, “I am king, and, ultimately, what I say goes. This is my kingdom. You will all have ownership and input. I’m not going to be a dick about it,” he laughed, “well, I’m going to try to not be a dick about it.”

He paused, “I mean, I know that nothing is preventing any of you from leaving. From giving me the bird, telling me to fuck-off, and going about your business elsewhere. That’s one of the reasons you get ownership. It’s how I pay you for helping me create, defend, and develop this kingdom.”

“So, to sum up. I’m the king. You guys are not my subjects, but ultimately what I say, goes. For any major decisions, I’ll seek your input. I may agree with it, I may disagree with it, but I promise I’ll always listen to it and consider it. If I disagree with it, I’ll do my best to explain why, but, in the end, I have to do what I think is right. If that’s not acceptable, I understand. You don’t have to sign up for the quest.”

“Seems fair enough,” said Corwin.

Wulfgar thought that he didn’t seem enthusiastic, but was accepting. That was understandable; Corwin and his friends were here trying to capture the march stone and take the town for themselves when they had first met. At least they understood that the likelihood of them succeeding in that particular quest was never going to be anything other than extremely unlikely; the only way that Wulfgar had managed to get the stone from the snake was that his Cowl of the Wolf provided infra-red camouflage, rendering him invisible to the gargantuan serpent. When they had attempted the snake room, Corwin, Connor, Catcher, and Galad had been wiped out. Quickly.

He looked around the table. Nobody else seemed like they wanted to add anything. Wulfgar hoped that meant that they would all be staying, that they would all accept his terms.

Well, I’ll know as soon as I get those quests setup.

“While I’m thinking of it, Snorri,” he looked to the viking, “we should probably do some of our archery training on the wall. To give our people, and you, an idea of how far away we can shoot and hit anything.” He scratched his beard, “And while you’re there, get Catcher to do some experimenting. I want to know how many people she can take on her carpet at once.”

Snorri nodded, “When she’s not preparing the plane travel spell, that is, right?” He grinned mischievously at Wulfgar.

Wulfgar smiled, I guess I can stop telling people that’s her highest priority now.

He looked to Galad. “Can you stay and help to prepare for the fights to come? I assume that among your skills are the ability to make healing poultices and potions.”

Galad nodded.

“Great! Can you sort of turn out as many as possible in the time we have? Heather the herbalist should be here within the next day or two. Get all the supplies you need from her. Tell her I’ll pay whatever you owe.”

“No problem,” said the hippy-looking mage.

Wulfgar stood from the table, “I need you three,” he looked at Connor, Corwin, and Bael, “to make whatever preparations you need for the trip to the elves. I’d like to leave in about two hours.” He looked at Snorri then Lauren, “You two, I’d like to speak with further, in the tower.”

He walked to Shannon, “And RaNay, I don’t have an specific requests for you, but I’d really appreciate it if you could stay in town this week. When Tim makes his little attack, I think you and Schwartz, and even old Bear, would be hugely valuable in the defense.”

She grinned up at him and nodded, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled down at his old friend in thanks, then turned to the door. Snorri and Lauren rose to follow him. He waved to the rest then stepped out into the light of the day.

His head jerked back in reflex. A swish through the air was instantly followed by a thump into the wood of the door frame. The quivering shaft of an arrow fluttered a centimeter from his face.

“TRAITOR!” screamed an over-armored archer on the far side of the fountain. He grabbed another arrow from his quiver, pulled the bow and let fly another shot. This arrow wasn’t as well aimed as the first, and it embedded itself in the plastered wall above the tavern door.

Wulfgar recoiled in shock, frozen at the suddenness of the attack. He felt a strong arm on his shoulder that pulled him back into the tavern and saw Snorri leap past him toward the fountain. The viking pulled his brand new axe and sprinted toward the center of the square.

The archer fumbled another arrow and screamed in terror as Snorri rounded the fountain. He started sprinting himself, in an effort to gain some distance from the large, grinning, blond madman. The archer screamed again as they rounded the tavern side of the fountain.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Lauren, joining Wulfgar in the doorway.

“What?” asked Wulfgar.

“Look at his character sheet.”

Wulfgar pulled it up and nearly choked.

Leeroy Jenkins. Level 1 Warrior.

Wulfgar looked up as the pair made a second circuit of the fountain, and he and Lauren moved into the square, making room for the other players who had been drawn by the constant high-pitched screaming of Leeroy Jenkins.

As he came to bear on the left side of the fountain for the third time, Jenkins pulled another arrow and, nocking the bow on the run, let loose from the hip. Wulfgar watched in horror as the arrow sped between his knees and embedded into the tavern wall behind him.

He looked at Lauren and raised his eyebrows, “Nice shot, all things considered.”

Lauren shrugged and snorted derisively, “Beginner’s luck.”

Wulfgar looked back to the fountain. Leeroy had resumed screaming incoherently and running at full speed, but slowing to fire the arrow had given Snorri all of the opportunity he needed; he caught Jenkins and brought his new axe down on the hapless archer, splitting through the skull.

A bolt of lightning accompanied the hit and Jenkins dropped to his knees, then fell over onto his face into the dust, dead. Smoke rose from the shattered skull as Leeroy’s legs twitched twice and then lay still. Bear walked up to the corpse, sniffed it once, then raised his leg over the body’s head.

Snorri shooed the dog aside, put his right foot on Jenkin’s back, and pulled his axe out of the cloven skull with a sickening thwack. He looked up at Wulfgar and grinned like a maniac, shaking the blood spattered axe over his head.

“I LOVE THIS THING!” he screamed.

Chapter 3

While Connor, Corwin, and Bael all left to prepare for the trip to visit the elves, Wulfgar led Snorri and Lauren into the keep. As they climbed the tower stairs, they stopped in the barracks and did a quick inventory of the weapons. A large number of pole-arms and bows, with perhaps a thousand arrows.

“These are a good start,” said Lauren, looking over the weapons, “but they’re not the best quality. Store bought type stuff,” she scrunched her nose. “I mean, I know these are better than nothing, but the stuff I’m making will be more effective.”

“How?” asked Wulfgar. The weapons looked alright to him.

“My arrows will be straighter. They’ll fly further, do more damage. My bows will have a greater pull, so, again, more range and damage. My pole-arms will be stronger. They’ll take and deal more damage.”

She shrugged, “Don’t get me wrong, this stuff is a great start and will take a little pressure off of me to get enough weapons for everyone.” She thought for a moment, “Do you want me to move up the armor a bit in priority? That takes longer, and it seems there’s not a whole lot of it here.”

He nodded, “Quick and dirty. Helmets and upper body protection.” He looked to her and smiled, “Oh, do not use this on any of it.” He reached into his inventory and pulled out her Imbuing hammer.

She squealed, “Oh my god! Thanks! I meant to ask you to pick that up for me, but it totally slipped my mind.” She laughed, “And, yeah, I’m not going to waste this on any armor.”

The three continued past the barracks and up the circular staircase. They came out into the bedroom. Wulfgar smiled. He had already slept in the bed here, but it wasn’t until now that he really began thinking of it as his bedroom. He looked around again. A huge four-poster bed jutted from the outer wall in between one of the four large arched windows that arrayed around the room like the cardinal points on a compass. Along the wall on the other three pie-portions of the room were a thick, wide, leather couch, a large wardrobe, and a deep mahogany desk. On each portion of the wall was a lit torch.

He and Snorri sat on the couch and Lauren plopped onto the bed, sitting cross-legged.

“Thoughts?” Wulfgar asked.

“About?” replied Snorri.

“Anything really. About what’s happening. About what’s going to happen. Anything I’m missing.”

“We’re probably all missing a lot,” shrugged Lauren. “I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve certainly never rebelled against a kingdom before. Never setup a new kingdom. Never had to do any of this.” She laughed, “I’m just a humble blacksmith.”

“Yeah,” laughed Snorri, “I’m with her. I’m just a big, dumb, blond.”

“And I’m all out of blond jokes,” sighed Wulfgar. He closed his eyes, squeezed his nose between his fingers, “I just can’t help feeling like I’m overlooking something important.”

“You probably always will,” smiled Lauren. “And that’s OK. I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“And she’s slept with you!” chortled Snorri.

Lauren threw a pillow across the room, hitting Snorri in the head. He feigned injury and fell back against the couch.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Snorri, hugging the pillow. “What’s the worst that can happen? We get defeated and lose the town.”

“That’s pretty damn bad,” said Wulfgar.

He nodded, “It is, isn’t it? Well,” shrugged Snorri, throwing the pillow back at Lauren, “you’d better not fuck it up then, right?”

Wulfgar stood, “Better not,” he agreed. He walked to the desk and sat in the plush chair. He brought up the town management screen and added Snorri and Lauren as partial owners.

“I’m going to have to be away from town. Probably for several days. I’m going to try my hardest to make sure that I’m back by the end of the week, but you never know.”

He turned in the chair, “I’m going to leave you guys in charge. But, honestly, all I want you to focus on is training the army,” he looked at Snorri, “and equipping them,” he looked at Lauren. “I’m going to transfer twenty-five gold pieces to each of you. If you have any expenses, anything you need to help you in those two goals, go ahead and get it.”

Lauren and Snorri looked at each other in wonder, then back at Wulfgar.

“You win the lottery or something?” asked Snorri.

“Or something,” agreed Wulfgar. “The treasure room didn’t just have epic weapons. Rydra got us about two hundred gold.”

“Shit!” whistled Lauren, “That’s more than I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, well don’t go on any shopping spree,” smiled Wulfgar. “That’s just for getting the town ready.”

Wulfgar’s gaze glazed as he focused back on the management screen. After giving gold to Snorri and Lauren, he still had about ninety gold in the account he’d setup at the King’s Bank before leaving Edonis. He looked quickly down through the options available to him.

One stood out immediately.

Hire a mercenary band. Twenty-five (25) light horse archers, including one (1) Lieutenant. Dark Elves. Terms, twenty-five (25) gold pieces for three (3) months service.

He sat back. Twenty-five elven archers would be a huge benefit - he wasn’t sure he had much more than that as far as NPCs went in this town, and they were highly unlikely to be anywhere near as good with a bow as elven mercenaries.

He nodded, selecting the option and pushing through the warning dialogs.

Twenty-five gold has been transferred to Lieutenant Rielle. Their estimated time of arrival is three to six days.

“Shit,” muttered Wulfgar, “I kind of hoped they’d just magically appear.”

“Who?” asked Lauren.

“Huh? Oh,” he looked to his friends, “I just hired twenty-five elvish horse archers. They should be here within several days.”

“That’ll help,” added Snorri. “How long do we have them?”

“Three months. And, I’m assuming, we can extend their contract. Providing,” he smiled, “we have any gold left. They were twenty-five gold.”

Snorri whistled, “You’re going through the money fast.”

“Takes money to make money, as they say. Besides, I can hoard the money now and lose the kingdom or I can spend it.” He smiled, “Is a kingdom worth two hundred gold pieces?”

Lauren and Snorri nodded.

“I think so too. I just hope I’m spending it wisely.”

“How much to hire you a bodyguard?” asked Lauren.

“To protect me from the next Leeroy Jenkins? I don’t know. I wish I knew if he was just some random kook trying to get in good with Clive or if Clive has been setting up quests to assassinate me.”

Snorri laughed, “Not really a major concern. At least as long as res is turned on.”

“True,” sighed Wulfgar, then looked at his friend, his mien serious, “But how do we know if anyone coming into the town, claiming to be on our side, is really just here to kill me?” They had all laughed at the attack in the town square, but it had bothered Wulfgar more than he let on. Whether or not he could simply resurrect on the other side of the town square wasn’t as important as the fact that other players were now trying to kill him. He knew, intellectually, that such was the case in the coming PVP war, but lone assailants trying to get at him before that had never occurred to him.

Maybe it’s for the best that I’m going to be away for the next few days.

“How the hell did he get here so fast?” asked Wulfgar. “War was just declared this morning. Word only started spreading through Edonis yesterday or the day before. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Unless he rezzed here after dying someplace else,” suggested Lauren.

“Wish I could ask him,” frowned Wulfgar.

“We could,” laughed Lauren, “if Snorri hadn’t split his skull down the middle.”

“LEEROY JENKINS!” yelled Snorri, then laughed.

Wulfgar smiled. It was hard, sometimes, to take everything going on here seriously; after all, they were still in a game, even if they lived in it. There were just some ways of thinking that people probably wouldn’t get over for a long, long time.

Wulfgar looked up from the town management screen. He’d been making quests for several minutes. Each was basic - sign up for the quest and when the war was won the player would get, as a reward, the plot of land attached to the individual quest. He had to make one for each plot of land that he was willing to give away. The small hill just to the west of the town, on the other side of the stream, was already taken - Rydra had called dibs on it and Wulfgar hadn’t forgotten.

“Is there any specific spot that you guys want for your own?” He looked from Snorri to Lauren.

“Not really sure,” answered Lauren, “I haven’t looked around much.”

“Well,” said Wulfgar, scratching his beard, “I have two nice little plots, one on either side of the stream where it empties into the lake. If that sounds nice, I can combine each of those with another plot on the same side of the stream, and you can each take those. Double plots of land.”

They looked at each other and back at Wulfgar, “That sounds awesome, man,” said Snorri. Lauren nodded agreement.

“OK. Sign up for the quests. I titled each one, with your name.”

He waited a moment while they accessed the quest screens - available to any player within the town limits. He saw on his screen that the missions Snorri’s Quest and Laur En’s Quest had been accepted. The two plots of land on his map of the kingdom were now grayed out; unavailable for assignment unless the quests failed.

And if those quests fail, mused Wulfgar, it won’t really matter who got which plot of land.

He continued making missions until he had fifty assigned to various plots of land along the lake. He dedicated a dozen plots right in the middle of the area as being where he would have the fishing village built. The player homes would then stretch from the east and from the west of the village. He didn’t assign any names to any of the other quests - they were all identical except for which parcel they were associated with. He would let Connor, Corwin, and Galad each pick their own spots. He selected a small hill near the wall and assigned it to Catcher.

Wulfgar quickly scanned the map. He still had thousands of available plots, but he had to think about the future growth of the town. He selected several lots on the western end of the valley - near where he assumed that the entrance to the dwarf halls was located - and combined them and dedicated them for farming.

For one gold each, he was able to set each of the thirty acre allotments up as a farm. Now each of those would attract an NPC farmer who would, over the next month, homestead there and begin building a small house. Once established, they would begin farming food. That would create both a constant flow of food for the town, allowing it to attract more NPCs, and slowly add to the experience points of the kingdom. Wulfgar could spend those experience points in many ways. He could use them to increase the abilities of the town’s NPC's - John the Tailor, for example. He could use them to spend on player quests, which would attract players to his town. As it was, none of the War quests he had just created came with any associated experience points, but Wulfgar was sure that the plot of land was enough to attract players.

He closed the management screen, pushed his chair back and stood, stretching. He smiled at his friends, talking quietly on the couch.

“I think I need to head out toward the elves now. The sooner we can get that taken care of, the better.”

“Is it that important?” asked Lauren.

“I think so,” he frowned, “I’d really rather not have an army I know nothing about on our rear when the fighting starts. I think it’s vital to make sure that, if nothing else, they’re neutral. Ideally, I’d like their help.”

Lauren nodded as she and Snorri stood. The three of them left Wulfgar’s apartment and circled down the stairway until they reached the keep’s main floor. As they were going through the door, they were surprised by a pair of grizzled dwarves coming into the fortress.

“Your majesty,” said one, as they both bowed from the waist. “We are here to begin surveying the area below.”

“Wonderful,” said Wulfgar, turning around and going back through the door, “Let me show you exactly what I need, just to make sure that we’re on the same page.”

“That would be most helpful,” said the other, then thumbed toward the other dwarf, “my brother Wain and I, Glain, would feel better hearing that from you.”

Wulfgar smiled and made his way back into the stairway, this time going down instead of up. As they reached the bottom, he activated his Illumination spell, creating a half-globe of light that spread out ten meters in diameter, centered on Wulfgar.

“Congratulations! You have gained a level in Illumination!

Sweet, chuckled Wulfgar, still happy whenever he gained a level in anything at all. He walked out into the empty space in front of him, looking over his shoulder to the two dwarves just behind.

“To the north,” he said, pointing ahead, “the lake is about two hundred meters away.”

Glain pointed to the right, “North. And it’s about seventy-five meters at its closest point.”

Wulfgar smiled, happy with the dwarven competence, if not his own sense of direction or scale.

“North,” he agreed, pointing to his right, “which would make south that way,” he dropped his right arm and raised his left. “I want you guys to see about the feasibility of digging through to the lake in the north and down to the wall in the south.” They reached the cavern wall - to the west, Wulfgar reminded himself - and turned toward the south.

“Do you think it’s possible?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of an archway.

The two nodded, “Of course. Anything is possible,” said Glain.

“Almost anything,” agreed Wain.

Glain continued, “It’s just a question of time and dwarves.”

“As in, how many dwarves,” nodded Wain.

Wulfgar nodded, “Sure. But how practical? I’m not looking to make a big deal out of this. What I want is a means to flood the moat in front of the wall.”

“And to end there?” asked Glain.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Well,” began Wain, “The moat begins and ends where the wall is. It is really nothing more than a long ditch.”

Wulfgar nodded understanding.

“So if we just open up a flow from the lake to the moat,” continued Glain, “the moat will overfill and flood down into the valley below.”

Wulfgar nodded again. He wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. Maybe a constant stream of water would create a soggy slope. Difficult footing for any attackers. He had to think beyond the war, however. The pass was the only way into and out of human lands. They needed the route for eventual traffic. For trade.

“I see the problem,” he said, scratching his chin. “Can you make a sluice on the moat side? Something that can be controlled from the wall?”

“So that you can choke off flow from the river?” asked Glain. “Yes, that shouldn’t be a problem. We should probably create two sluices, one at the lake and one at the moat. To better control the flow,” he looked up at Wulfgar, “to prevent these caverns from flooding.”

“And can you create a cistern within the caverns?” added Wulfgar. “That would let me let loose a flood all at once. Just in case I want to suddenly overflow the moat.”

The brothers nodded.

“How long will it take?”

Wain and Glain looked at each other, then back at the human.

“It depends on the dwarf-power we put to the task.”

Wulfgar smiled, knowing where this was going. He liked negotiating with predictable folk.

“The dwarves can keep one hundred percent of the minerals recovered during the excavation of the tunnel and cistern for the next two weeks. Afterward, it reverts to the seventy-five percent I agreed upon with Owen.”

The brothers smiled and said nearly simultaneously, “We’ll send for our full crew.” Wain continued, “Depending upon what we find, and how difficult the dig, we should be able to make a rough cut through in a couple of weeks. The cistern might take longer, but we can flood the moat within a fortnight.”

Wulfgar smiled. That was better than he’d hoped.

“There is one more task I’d like to add to the request.” He thumbed his hand over his shoulder, “Down this passageway is a room. In that room is a snake. A very big fucking snake.”

Wulfgar described what he had in mind.

Wulfgar walked back into the sun. Leaving the keep, he made his way to the inn a dozen meters distant. Set off just to the side, the path directly out of the keep led to the north side of the tavern. He looked into the windows as he passed, but couldn’t see into the darkness within. He hoped that the other three who would join him were ready to go meet the elves.

He rounded the inn and made his way down the front, toward the door, but stopped short. He saw someone bent over the cloven skulled corpse next the fountain. Wulfgar turned away from the tavern door and hailed the person, bent over facing away from him.

“Hey! Are you …”

“TRAITOR!” screamed the man, rising from looting his corpse and turning to face Wulfgar. He was standing naked but for a linen loincloth, a bow and single arrow in his hands. As he stood, he eyed Wulfgar and began nocking the arrow.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” grumbled Wulfgar. “Look! I just want to …”

“Leeeeee,” came a scream from inside of the tavern and Snorri burst through the door, “ROYYY JENKINS!” He giggled maniacally as he ran into the square, holding the axe high with both hands.

Jenkins’ high pitched scream of terror once again filled the town. He tried to draw his bow, but his hands were shaking and he dropped his arrow as Snorri reached him.

A small crack of thunder accompanied the flash of lightning as Snorri’s axe swept sideways above Jenkin’s narrow shoulders, sending the hapless archer’s smoking head twirling into the fountain.

Snorri’s laughter filled the square as he turned to Wulfgar.

“Have I mentioned yet that I fucking love this thing?”

“Once or twice,” muttered Wulfgar as Connor, Corwin and Bael joined them in the square. He looked to them, “Are you all ready?”

At their nods, he turned back to Snorri, “Look. We’re leaving now. I am in no danger from Leeroy Jenkins. If he comes back to loot his corpse,” he paused, “well, corpses, can you please try to find out where he’s from? Why he’s here? Anything other than a quick decapitation?”

Snorri nodded, “I promise.”

“Really?”

Snorri laughed, shook his head, “No. Not really. But I promise I’ll try.”

Wulfgar rolled his eyes. As they panned skyward, he saw a lone figure sitting on top of a shop to the right. He was perched on the crest of a dormer a few stories high. His left foot was curled underneath his right knee. He was looking down at the players in the square, his chin resting on his right fist, his right elbow on his knee. He had an amused look on his face.

Wulfgar brought up the man’s character sheet.

Baron Blue. Level 9 Bard.

The man waved and began climbing down the outside of the building, dropping from the exposed beams of the Tudor architecture. Letting go of the beam between the first and second floors, he fell to the ground in a little cloud of dust. He turned to the rest of the crew and joined them looking down on Jenkins’ corpse.

“Interesting chap,” he chuckled, looking up at Wulfgar. He brushed a bright shock of thick silver hair back from his forehead. His look seemed to bore through Wulfgar, evaluating and trying to come to some conclusion about him. Wulfgar was unsure if his statement was referring to Leeroy Jenkins or himself.

Wulfgar smiled, “That’s one way to put it, Baron Blue.”

“BeeBee works.”

“OK, BeeBee. Welcome to Marchstone.”

The man bowed, “My thanks. Nice place you have here, Wulfgar.”

“Interested in joining up?”

He smiled, “I just did. I accepted a quest with a nice little piece of lakeside property attached while I was on the roof and enjoying the floor show,” he waved to the two Jenkins; one headless and fallen onto the other, less fresh, corpse.

Wulfgar smiled, “Wonderful. The caveat is that it’s only land. At least, at first. The homes will have to be built. After the war.”

“Seems reasonable. Now, how would one go about winning this quest.”

Wulfgar pointed at the still grinning Snorri. “That’s the general of our army. God help us all,” he winked. “Fill him in on your abilities and he will work with you to integrate them into his plans, assuming that he has any.” Everyone laughed. “But, in short, we are expecting a raid within days. We need to prepare for that, then for a larger invasion to come. Worst case, within a couple of weeks, but likely not for a month.” One benefit they had was that it was likely to take Tim a month or more to recruit and train the invading army.

Unless Clive throws enough gold at him to just hire an NPC army.

That was a worry, but Wulfgar didn’t think it likely.

“In any case, these gentlemen and this upstanding faerie and I need to make a journey. We should be back in a few days, at most, I hope.” He looked over the new arrival and wondered if he could trust him. Was this someone genuinely interested in helping the cause, or was he simply another Leeroy Jenkins - an assassin, but smart enough to wait, to bide his time, until the correct opportunity came to strike. Wulfgar hated that he had to think that way.

BeeBee smiled and stepped around the corpses, moving toward Snorri. As he passed Wulfgar he leaned in and whispered, “Rydra says hello.”

Wulfgar, Connor, and Corwin rode out of Marchstone. Bael sat on the head of Wulfgar’s horse, cross-legged and facing backwards toward the human riders. Wulfgar was glad to be doing something substantive. Even just riding toward a destination with a goal in mind was a comfort after worrying about how to manage the town or about how to defend it.

He didn’t remember passing BeeBee during the night, but the bard must have left Edonis sometime before Wulfgar did in order to arrive at the town when he did. It wasn’t much more than twenty-four hours since he began officially recruiting. Maybe Rydra had recruited BeeBee earlier, telling him about the rebellion before the thief met with Wulfgar. In that case, he could have been traveling for a couple of days or more; maybe he was sleeping in the inn in the last village before the frontier while Wulfgar plunged through the dark countryside the night before.

But if so, why didn’t Rydra mention it?

He shook off the thought. He couldn’t expect Rydra to mention every person he recruited - or every person he thought he recruited. For all Wulfgar knew, Rydra had no idea if BeeBee was even going to accept the recruitment. Wulfgar had to learn to trust, and quickly, those who came to join him. If he seemed suspicious or untrusting, that would be a quick means to drive people away from him.

The party had crossed the little bridge out of town and moved toward the lake alongside the little stream. Where it emptied into the lake, they turned northwest following the shore toward the elven wood in the distance. He looked to the left and right. These two plots, straddling the mouth of the stream, were where Snorri and Lauren had their double plots. He nodded; it was a nice area. Little hills fronted the lake on either side of the stream, and would make comforting spots for villas. Wulfgar looked to the east, about two hundred meters away. Just like on the map, a little spit of land thrust into the lake. That’s where he planned to put the fishing village.

They rode silently for a while, Wulfgar lost in thought. He desperately needed a distraction, something to keep his brain from swirling in self-doubt; afraid that he was forgetting something.

Like Lauren said, I’m going to forget something. It’s a given.

That didn’t help to stop the worry, however. Nothing probably would. Even after the war, assuming that he won, there would always be something to worry about, some improvement he could make to the valley. Some drama or conflict to be resolved. It was probably going to be never-ending. For the rest of his life.

Forever, he thought. I’m here forever. I’m going to be king of this place forever.

Even if he left this place, to return to the outer Omegaverse, this place would always be here. Always need him, as long as he was the ruler. Always and forever - he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. What would it be like knowing that there would never be an end, knowing that his responsibility was everlasting?

He sighed.

“Something wrong?” asked Bael.

Wulfgar smiled, “Nope. Just thinking about everything that needs to be done.” He looked at the little being. Bael’s father was a king of the faerie. As far as Wulfgar knew, the folk were as immortal as players - at least, as immortal as they could be without the advantage of resurrection. He wondered if there was anything he could learn from them.

“Tell me about your father, if you don’t mind. How does he rule? Has he been king for long?”

They spent the next hours riding casually, Bael telling of his people. His father was indeed immortal, as were all the folk. They could die, and some did voluntarily after they felt their time was up. There was no way that the folk could determine when this feeling would come over one of them, but when it did it was seen as a cause for celebration.

Bael’s father had been king for longer than Bael had been alive, and the prince had never met his sire’s sire, who had been king before him. There was no concept of grandchildren among the fey. They could not physically reproduce until their parents had died, for whatever reason. That made sense to Wulfgar - otherwise an immortal people would soon have a population problem. The only way that Bael could have children before his parents died were to be if he became king in his own right; king of his own people.

That gave Wulfgar an idea.

“What would it take for you to become a king on your own?”

Bael shrugged, “Suitable land. And the desire.”

“If I were to provide the land, would you have the desire?”

Bael looked around, “Here?” He looked up at Wulfgar who nodded. “It would need to be someplace that my people would like to live. Someplace much like our home on the island of Baile.”

Wulfgar remembered back to the first quests he’d taken in this world, which ultimately led him to Bael’s home - an island in the eastern sea. Dropped among the roiling waves of the ocean, its sea smacked cliffs rose into long kilometers of rolling hills.

“To the southwest. In the corner of the kingdom directly to the west of the walls, there is an area that might be satisfactory.”

“It would have to be our land. Not held in fealty to you or anyone.”

Wulfgar nodded in thought. He wasn’t sure that he was willing to cede any portion of his kingdom; but the faerie would be a valuable and powerful ally to have.

“I understand. Before we can talk, you should explore the area. To make sure that it’s suitable for you. There is no point in formalizing it now, in any case. We have to win this war to worry about whether or not any of this land belongs to us. Once we do, then we can talk.”

Bael nodded. He seemed lost in thought. Wulfgar assumed that was a good sign - assuming that he decided that he wanted to provide land for the faerie.

Wulfgar looked up. They had reached a copse of woods, nestled up against the lake. It wasn’t large, but it was dense. Dark. Something about the woods looked wrong. Bael seemed to notice it too, but he said nothing. The group spurred their horses and soon left the little wood behind.

After another hour’s slow riding, Connor suddenly dropped from his horse and bent into the grass. He looked to the south, then back eastward. He seemed to concentrate for a few moments, then looked up to Wulfgar and Corwin, waiting patiently on their mounts.

“Orcs. A small party. They went through here about half an hour ago.” He looked back down and reached to the dirt. “Four, maybe five. Not moving quickly. I’d say a slow trot.”

Wulfgar dismounted and moved in next to the ranger. He looked through the grass and dirt but could see nothing apart from grass and dirt. He looked to Connor, “Ranger skills? Tracking?” After the ranger nodded, he continued, “What does it look like to you?” He smiled, “Just curious.”

“Depends on your skill and what you’re tracking, of course. But in this case, I can see bent grasses that are off color. The greater the skill, the greater the color difference is. The bigger the track, the greater the color difference is. That’s part of what your experience tells you. It doesn’t just put up a dialog box that tells you how many of what came through when. I can tell that there are four or five from the number of tracks,” he pointed around the immediate area, “and since they were not running in a single-file, it’s easier to tell.”

“Unless there were a lot of them running in four or five lines,” said Corwin.

“True,” nodded Connor, standing, “but I can also see individual footprints. The ones here are not ground down or messed over like they would be if there were a lot of beings following the same trail. I can make out individual tracks in each of the lines. That’s why I’m confident that there are only that many.”

“How do you know they’re orcs?” asked Wulfgar, standing and remounting.

“Size of the feet for one. Also, there’s like an aura, for lack of a better word,” he said, following Wulfgar’s lead and climbing onto his horse. “The skill does tell me that whatever made these tracks is not human. Is evil. The rest, I can see from the trail. It’s fresh. It’s heading that way,” he said pointing toward the south.

The orcs, if Connor’s reading was correct, were heading toward the town; making a direct line whereas the humans had followed the shore of the lake. The orcs and humans had probably passed each other while the humans were on the lake-side of the small wood. An hour’s slow riding, plus however long the loping strides of the orcs had taken them, separated the two parties now.

“What are we waiting for?” asked Wulfgar as he turned his horse back to the south. Bael dropped to lay forward on the horse’s head as Wulfgar spurred it into a gallop.

As urgent as he felt the war preparations were, Wulfgar couldn’t pass up the opportunity for this pursuit. He needed a release from the planning and plotting, and kicking the shit out of some orcs fit the bill perfectly. The land flew beneath his horse’s hooves, and he idly wondered if these orcs - if orcs they turned out to be - were part of the same clan he’d encountered on his first trip into this land. He had taken the oath of an orc captain not to raid human villages for a number of years, but he was not at all sure of the trustworthiness of the orc. Even if the orc in question kept his vow, there was nothing that prevented any other orc clans from raiding.

They crested a small rise, about thirty minutes into the chase, and Wulfgar smiled grimly as he saw that there were four orcs climbing the other side of a small hollow. They were running, head down, and still oblivious that they were being driven down.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wulfgar saw Connor draw his new bow and nock an arrow, still at full gallop. He assumed that Corwin was likewise arming himself. Bael rose from between the horse’s ears. He seemed to be preparing a spell of some sort.

As they drew near the bottom of the ravine, the horses jumped a narrow stream and the orcs finally realized their danger. They turned as one, drawing various swords and axes. One raised a large wooden buckler, and Wulfgar kneed his horse toward that one.

Connor whooped loudly as he rose in the saddle, still at full gallop, and let fly an arrow. Wulfgar watched as smoke trailed from the fletchings and the point hit home in the center of an orc’s chest. The creature dropped to one knee as it exploded in fire. Its screams of pain and rage filled the valley.

The horse was still five meters from the shielded orc when Wulfgar reached into the small of his back and drew Shepherd’s Sting. He leaned into the horse’s neck on the opposite side of his chosen target and dropped out of the saddle as the horse plowed through the small line of orcs. The orc shield went flying as the horse continued, riderless, up the other side of the valley.

Wulfgar rolled as he hit the ground and came up behind an orc that was turning to follow Corwin, a few seconds behind Wulfgar. Activating Stealth - he was mildly surprised and happy that it worked and guessed that none of the orcs was looking at him at the moment - he moved in behind the orc and thrust between two of the orc’s ribs.

“Critical Hit!”

“12 points of damage!”

“18 points of damage, Hidden Stab!”

“You have poisoned your target!”

“Your target is stunned!”

“Congratulations! You have gained a level in Hidden Stab!”

“Congratulations! You have gained a level in Small Blade!”

Wulfgar howled in exultation as he ducked a sword swing from the other orc, standing just to the left of his compatriot, now writhing on the ground. Wulfgar grinned viciously as he stepped to one side and, turning toward his new opponent, activated Blade Wind.

The skill took over his body and he spun. His sword arm shot out as he turned and his jaw dropped in horror as Shepherd’s Bite launched from his hand and flew past the orc’s face.

“Critical Miss!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! thought Wulfgar as he pushed backward, falling into a roll to get as quickly away from the orc as possible. He crabbed backward for a few paces then fell onto his back. He raised his right arm to the orc and snapped a Fire Shot off.

“6 points of damage!”

“You have inflamed your target!”

As he continued scrambling away from the attacking, burning, orc, all he could think was, That’s not the normal definition of inflamed! I wonder if it’s grammatically correct?

The orc stood over Wulfgar, fire spreading across the creature’s torso and face, and raised an axe. An arrow shot over Wulfgar and hit the orc between the eyes, knocking it backward and to the ground, still and lifeless.

Wulfgar sighed and lay fully onto his back, he looked up to Connor and nodded his thanks.

“Is that all of them?” he asked into the afternoon sun.

“It is,” answered the ranger.

Wulfgar sat and saw Corwin bending over Wulfgar’s first target, pulling a dagger across the creature’s throat.

“It is now,” added the dark man, wiping his poniard on the orcs chest.

Wulfgar looked around. The first orc that Connor shot lay on his face where he’d been hit - an obviously deadly blow was dealt by the ranger off the bat. The orc that Wulfgar’s horse had run down lay near it, Bael sitting on its chest, wiping his tiny blade clean. A second, gory, smile beneath the orc’s chin spoke of the damage that the faerie had done.

“That was a nice minute’s work,” said Wulfgar happily as he stood. As always, killing orcs gave him actual physical pleasure.

Corwin walked up to him and handed back Shepherd’s Bite. He grinned and said, “All except for that last attack. You trying to turn this into a throwing knife?”

Wulfgar smiled sheepishly and re-sheathed his blade, “That wasn’t exactly what I intended to do.”

“It had style, anyway,” laughed Connor, as he unstrung his bow.

Wulfgar laughed out loud as he climbed back onto his horse, “Anyone need any healing?” He looked through the group as they shook their heads. It was an almost perfect ambush. Just what the doctor ordered. He watched as Corwin and Connor looted the corpses. Only a few coppers. Even the weapons were of low quality. This was a low level band.

But they were heading for my people. They needed to die. He probably could have left it for the others. Shannon, Snorri and Lauren could have easily taken care of these, but he had felt a responsibility in addition to the desire to just kick the living shit out of something. He felt a small sense of pride - he’d protected his kingdom. His people.

He motioned to the other two to toss the corpses into a pile, then, as Connor and Corwin mounted, Wulfgar dropped a Fire Shot into the stack. He sat back, smiling at Bael as he turned his horse back toward the distant wood. They spurred their horses forward as black smoke rose into the sky, marking the last resting place of four very unlucky orcs.

As evening fell, the group reached the verge of the elven forest. The trees were tall - nearly as tall as redwoods - and straight. Wulfgar imagined that they must each be thousands of years old. The woods were physically imposing, but not dark. The openness between each tree allowed verdant grass swaths to make up most of the floor. The waning sun shone through the trees from the west, sending long shadows onto the purpling lake behind them.

“We should probably make camp soon,” sighed Wulfgar. The woods might not be frightening, but he didn’t relish the thought of wandering through them at night. Two hundred meters into the trees, he dismounted and began gathering fallen branches and twigs to build a fire. The other two humans did likewise, while the fey prince moved to the saddle of Wulfgar’s mount and lay back, watching the preparations. As the darkness deepened toward night, a faint glow seemed to surround Bael.

“They know we’re here,” the prince began, “but we’re unlikely to be approached until morning. Day and night mean nothing to the elven folk. They don’t sleep. But if we’re lucky enough to be taken to their king, they’ll want to do that in the morning.” He shrugged, “It is the way of things.”

“Suits me,” said Corwin. “I assume they see better than us in the dark.”

“And the light,” agreed Bael.

“So, I’d just as soon not go any further until I can see better.” He sat as Wulfgar dropped a fireball into the pile of wood.

“Congratulations! You have gained a level in Fire Shot!

Wulfgar smiled, happy with how the day had progressed. As much as he had to do, and as much as he was worried about forgetting something, he was satisfied with the accomplishments of the day.

And getting level three in Fire Shot is just the icing on the cake!

He pulled out several items that he’d bought from Enquire Arenis before leaving Edonis. He dropped three large sausages into an iron skillet and put it into the fire, then passed two large stoppered clay bottles to Corwin and Connor before opening a third for himself.

“Bael! Do you want some beer? Some food?”

“Thank you, no,” said the faerie from his horse perch. “We don’t eat human food. I am fine. Again, thank you.”

“What about milk and butter?” asked Wulfgar, thinking back to the very moment he’d first met Bael. Snorri had brought those two substances, legendary as gifts acceptable to the faerie folk.

“We don’t eat that, we just accept it as our due offering. Something that humans can sacrifice for us. It’s just a show of respect, one that even the poorest farmer can manage.”

Wulfgar nodded and looked back to the others, and bent to shake the skillet, keeping the sausages moving. As he did he took a sip of the beer. It was amazing. A nice Czech lager. Surprisingly cold.

I wonder if Enquire’s skills include making beer that always stays at the correct temperature.

“Oh, man. This is good stuff,” said Corwin. Connor nodded agreement.

“This is just the tip of the iceberg,” added Wulfgar. “This is made by the guy who will hopefully be coming to the town to setup a shop.”

“The mayor,” added Corwin gravely.

Wulfgar nodded, “Yeah.” He gave the skillet another shake and looked at the other two. “You think I’m being a bit naive, right? Giving the mayorship to someone I’ve never met.”

Corwin shrugged, “It’s your town.”

“But you have a stake as well. I want to hear your view.”

“I don’t really have a problem with it,” Connor replied, “I mean, I assume that you can remove any powers that you give the guy.”

“And that goes for the rest of us as well,” added Corwin.

“That’s true. I have that power. I can revoke your plots of land at any time.” He had noticed before leaving Marchstone that they had all taken a quest. “And I’m not even sure I can give away the kingship. There’s no option for it, at least.”

“So if this cook decides to turn into a little dictator, you can get rid of him. That’s all I’m really concerned about,” said Corwin, eyeing the pan on the fire.

Wulfgar pulled the skillet out and held it across the fire. Corwin and Connor each took a sausage. Wulfgar put the pan on the ground next to him and grabbed the last wurst. He bit through the skin and into the juicy meat. His mouth flooded as the various spices played on his tongue.

“Holy shit,” said Connor.

Corwin rolled his eyes in agreement, “Oh man. I take back what I said. If this guy’s food all tastes this good, he can be as much of a dictator as he wants.”

“Where are you guys from? If you don’t mind me asking,” said Wulfgar after they’d finished their food and beer and leaned back against their packs, relishing the memory of the meal. The night was darkening quickly and flickering shadows spread from the central fire in all directions. “I’m from Virginia. I was a software development project manager,” he began.

“Moscow,” answered Corwin. “I was a student.”

“You speak amazingly good English,” said Wulfgar, impressed. The man had no accent at all - he could have been from anywhere in the United States.

Corwin laughed, “No. Not a word. You speak amazingly good Russian.”

Wulfgar nodded in understanding. Everything in this world was translated into the player’s native language. That made sense, and explained why he had only encountered American English accents so far.

“You both speak amazingly good German,” said Connor softly, smiling over across the fire. “I was a house wife. A grandmother. After my husband died, I lived with my son’s family. His wife needed little help and my grandchildren were old enough to be mostly self-sufficient,” he shrugged, “so I gamed a lot in the last few years.”

He smiled again, looking between Wulfgar and Corwin, “I don’t know why I chose to be male in this world. I never really cared one way or another about my sex, or about having sex. That hasn’t changed.” He shrugged, “I guess I just wanted to see what it was like to have a penis.”

The other two laughed.

“How is it so far?” asked Wulfgar.

Connor made a non-committal gesture, “The only use for it here is sex. I’m not interested in having sex.” He smiled, “So no difference really. I’m just glad to no longer have to carry around my massive boobs!”

They laughed again. Wulfgar looked at Connor closely. There was nothing about the ranger that seemed wrong or out of place. He was what he was. A player. A human player. A human player who didn’t seem to want any particularly close relationship with another player. Wulfgar imagined that a life spent raising children and grandchildren and caring for families could engender a need to be alone.

Maybe being a ranger, spending a lot of time wandering alone, is perfect for Connor.

Wulfgar smiled at them. The silence was lengthening, in danger of becoming uncomfortable.

“I’m glad to have you both here. Very glad,” he said. His mind stretched for something to talk about. He looked into the flickering flames, made brighter by the deepening darkness.

“In America,” he said, “we have a tradition. We tell ghost stories around the campfire.”

“You’re not the only country that does that,” said Corwin.

Wulfgar smiled, “Just as well.” He leaned forward, “I wish I had a flashlight to shine underneath my chin,” he laughed. Then he thought for a moment. He looked down, and guessed that his head was a meter above the ground. He activated his Illumination spell, setting the diameter of the sphere to much smaller than maximum. The half ball of light shone around the lower half of his body, to just below his head. The laughter of his camp-mates told him that he was at least close in highlighting his face in an eerie manner.

He began speaking.

“Donovan is four. Well, four and a half. He'd want me to make that distinction. When the big kids are six years old, that distinction is important. When he was just four, he came to live with me for a couple of months. He also brought his father, who is my brother, his mother and his sister as well, but they don’t factor into the story. They were moving from California back to the east coast and were staying with me while their old house sold and their new house was vacated. That doesn’t factor into the story either.”

“Donovan is smart. Precocious is the normal word for it. He has been reading for a year and doing math for almost as long. He’s not a savant or anything, but he’s well ahead of the normal curve. Most people don’t realize he’s only four, as he’s not only very well spoken for his age, he’s larger than normal. He is the physical size of most of those big kids who are six. He’s also smarter than most of them. He is, however, emotionally just a four year old. That tends to cause problems. He’s too immature to get on well with the big kids and too advanced to have any patience with his peers. He tends to get frustrated and act out. Thus, he tends to look inward for company. His imagination is probably his best friend.”

“We were playing together, a few weeks after he’d moved in. Long enough time that he was comfortable with the new sights, surroundings and people. He’d become acclimated enough to me to be able to request that we play, rather than wait for my invitation.”

“Like many four year old boys, he loves cars - especially trucks. We were playing with his cars one evening, racing across the floor, when I crashed and rolled my car.”

“Oh no, he cried with playful severity, you crashed!”

“I nodded and asked, can you help me, sir?”

“He thought for a moment. Yes sir, I can. I have a mechanic truck that can fix you.”

“Whew! Good! Thanks!”

“He looked up a me, suddenly serious.”

“The mechanic truck is downstairs.”

“I needed to get something to drink anyway, so I took advantage of the situation.”

“You go get the truck and I’ll get us some juice!”

“He nodded and stood. He looked solemn. I didn’t understand. I wondered if maybe he was taking my car crash a little more seriously than the play warranted.”

“It’ll be OK, I said, referring to my crashed car.”

“He nodded again and began walking toward the basement door. I followed along behind and walked into the kitchen, which was next to the basement door. I heard Donovan muttering something as he went down the stairs, so I went over and poked my head into the opening.”

“As he went down each step he kept whispering.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“He reached the bottom of the stairway and made his way toward the area of the basement where his mechanic’s truck waited.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“I realized that he was afraid. It reminded me of being his age, being afraid of the dark corner and the dark windows made opaque from the interior lights; possibly hiding anything just on the other side of the glass. I remembered being that afraid at night.”

“I remembered having to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. Staying underneath my covers, trying in vain to hold my pee all night long. I could picture making my way down the dark hallway between my bedroom and the bathroom; trying to be as quiet as possible. Trying to avoid the attention of - whatever. I peed as quickly as possible, the closeness of the bathroom window hovering above me drawing my complete attention. Having finished, more or less, I sprinted, breath held, back down the hallway to leap into my bed and dive underneath the covers.”

“I remembered my toy farm set, specifically the cardboard silo. It was a simple cardboard tube, maybe five inches in diameter, with a metallic plate at the base and a plastic, removable dome top. I came to use that as my night-time toilet. I can still remember worrying that my mother would discover the urine filled silo as I emptied it each morning after the demon banishing light had returned for the day.”

“Like Donovan, I had to look to myself for companionship. In my case, it was because my family - at that time, just myself, my mother and my father - lived on a farm deep in the Virginia mountains. It was remote, but the price was right. My father was attending college at the time and the farm belonged to my uncle, my father’s brother in law. We stayed there for no cost. I’m sure that was a huge help to my parents, but for me, at four years old, it was lonely.”

“That was about the time that lifelong memories began to form for myself, and I remember much about being at the farm. I remember my pony. I remember learning how to feed it carrots, making sure my fingers were stretched as far as possible when I had the carrot on my palm so I wouldn’t get bit. I remember riding it, with my Irish setter, Penny, running along side. I recalled how the field past the horse pasture had a large tree, underneath which lived an old bull. I remembered how much fun it was to run to tag the tree and try to run back and roll underneath the fence before the bull could charge me. I remember Penny nipping the bull’s flank if it got too close to me.”

“I remember Jimmy.”

“Jimmy was my best friend. He and I played together every day. Jimmy lived at 1606 Buddingbrook lane. Jimmy was four years old too. He liked my toys. He told me he was afraid of the dark, too, and didn’t like it when he had to get up in the night to pee either. Jimmy and I spent a lot of time talking to each other.”

“I couldn’t tell you, however, what Jimmy looked like. Jimmy was my imaginary friend. He wasn’t secretive or anything like that. Mom would dutifully set a place for Jimmy at dinner and remind me to say goodnight to him before bed. She always made a point to remind me to include Jimmy in my prayers, every night.”

“Being a lonely four year old, Jimmy was a big part of my life.”

“A few years back, I asked my parents about that time. About Penny. We had to give her away after dad graduated and we moved to the city in an apartment too small to keep a large dog. I still remember looking at her and her adoptive owners as we drove away. I wasn’t crying, just waving. I didn’t understand that was the last time I’d see her.”

“It turned out that Mom knew about the silo. She laughed, recalling the rusted metal bottom and the repeatedly wet cardboard that started to fall apart. She never worried too much about it since I was pretty good about emptying it most mornings.”

“Mom told me about Jimmy.”

“Jimmy was four years old. Jimmy lived at 1606 Buddingbrook lane. Jimmy died in a fire.”

“She’d been concerned when I first told her about Jimmy. That he was my friend. That I talked to him and that he talked to me.”

“She worried that I’d seen the news reports about Jimmy when he had died in that fire. He died in his sleep, his parents unable to save him when 1606 Buddingbrook lane caught fire in the middle of the night. Afterward, she made sure that I didn’t pay too much attention to the news when that kind of story came on; you never know what kids will pick up.”

“All of that came back to me as I listened to Donovan run to get his truck.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“I was overcome with pride. My memories had brought back just how overwhelmingly terrifying the unknown terrors of the lonely basement or midnight bathroom were. But Donovan was pushing through it, scared though he was. I wouldn’t have had the guts to do that when I was four.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“No spooky stuff.”

“Donovan got to the top of the stairs, mechanic’s truck clutched in his little hands. He looked up at me, startled; unaware that I had been at the top of the stairs.”

“I looked down at the little brave guy, unsure of what to say.”

“I’m sorry, I should have gone down there with you. It must have been scary.”

“That’s OK, he smiled. I wasn’t really alone.”

“I smiled back, No. I was here the whole time.”

“I didn’t mean you, he shook his head, I meant my friend. Jimmy. He’s four years old. He lives at 1606 Buddingbrook lane.”

Wulfgar leaned back against the pack. The other two smiled at him.

“That’s pretty good,” said Connor, “is it true?”

Wulfgar shook his head, “No. I was an orphan. I didn’t have any brothers or nephews.” He shrugged, “That’s just a story I read someplace.” He took out two more beers and passed them over the fire, then opened another for himself. He took a long draw. It was just as good as the first. He almost wished he could get as thirsty in this world as he did when he was alive - it would be worth it just to feel the quench from the brew.

“Do you have any more?” asked Corwin.

“Beer?”

“Stories,” the dark man laughed.

Wulfgar nodded.

“One. This one is true.” He looked to his friends and smiled at their raised eyebrows. He sat up straight, took another long drink, and began to talk.

“Growing up, I was friends with Paul. Paul's father was rich. Very rich. And since this was in Northern Virginia, to be very rich in comparison to everyone else took some money. Paul's father was a real estate developer. In addition to the large family homestead in Northern Virginia, Paul's father had acreage, lots and lots of acreage, out south of Winchester, in the Shenandoah valley.”

“The land was pretty far out in nowhere, so we could go out there shooting. Except for twenty or thirty acres right at the front, the land was all woods, and that clearing boasted a two story farmhouse.”

“Nobody lived in the house full time, but someone from Paul's clan was usually there on the weekends in the spring, summer or fall and in the winter during hunting seasons.”

“There were a lot of rules in the house. Like, posted-on-signs rules. One was, don't fully close doors. He doesn't like it."

“I asked Paul who he was. Paul just shrugged and smiled.”

“The house itself was nothing special. For the most part. Just a regular two story white farmhouse built in the early 20th century. The front room, however, was different. It was a rectangular room; about ten feet deep and twenty wide. Unlike the rest of the house, it was made of log.”

“That part of Virginia was first settled by colonists in the mid 18th century, and much of it was still being settled when the French-Indian wars were occurring. On the western frontier, the colonists established a fort.”

“The log room was that fort.”

“It was built around 1758. There were no windows in the room, only a front and back door. The front door now served as the entrance to the farmhouse. The back door entered into the house's kitchen. The back door remained permanently propped open.”

“He doesn't like closed doors.”

“At some point during those wars two things of note happened.”

“The first, a young Virginia gentleman stayed at the fort while he surveyed the surrounding land. His name was Thomas Jefferson.”

“The second, was a massacre.”

“The story is, Indians allied with the French surrounded the fort one night and overwhelmed it. Given that the building was so small, it probably didn't take too many of them, but they were able to prevent the soldiers from getting out of either door. No militia survived.”

“The theory is that he was in the militia, and that he doesn't like doors to be closed because they prevent his ready escape. It sounded like horse-shit to me, but it made for a good story to tell around the fireplace on a cold, December Virginia night.”

“Paul and I were down there one weekend in the late fall. He was going to be out in the land to prepare his blinds for an upcoming season; whether bow or black-powder, I don't recall. I didn’t hunt, I was just going to keep him company and because I'd always enjoyed going up to the farm. I'd spent many a drunken weekend there with groups of friends, and never heard or seen anything that had served to blunt my teenage skepticism about ghosts or whatever.”

“Just about every time we'd all gone up there, we'd gotten hammered in the fort; drinking until blind as teenagers tend to do. But even if someone passed out, they weren't left in the fort overnight. They were always taken into the great room or one of the bedrooms. And every time we'd gone up there, Paul had told us all stories about the house; such as the one time that the family had brought a psychic to the house to try to get a reading.”

“She walked up the front stoop, put her hand on the front door of the fort, turned around and left without a word. She refused not only to enter the fort but to ever return to the property.”

“So, Paul and I are up there one cold December night - the only people for miles around. Since we're the only ones in the house, and we're only there for one night, it made no sense to heat up the entire house. We would both sleep in the great-room. It was as large as the fort, but part of the more modern house. Along either wall were two large leather couches. Paul took one and I the other. He got a big fire going in the fireplace and we both curled up into our sleeping bags. I could see, in the flickering firelight across the room, Paul's breath as he exhaled.”

"Shouldn't you close the door, I asked. To keep the heat in the room?"

“He just smiled his shit-eating grin.”

"He doesn't like closed doors."

“I snorted and tried to go to sleep. After a short while however, I heard the distinct sound of a series of footfalls from upstairs. Up the stairs to the second floor of the supposedly otherwise empty house. I looked over to Paul, to make sure that he hadn't snuck out to try to pull something on me.”

“His teeth gleamed across the room at me, an I told you so look in his eyes.”

“The boots continued to pound across the second story then stopped. A door slammed.”

“Paul chuckled.”

"I closed one of the doors up there earlier. He doesn't like that."

“Paul laughed again lightly then rolled over.”

“Paul went to sleep.”

“I didn't.”

Wulfgar grinned and Connor sat back and smiled.

Corwin leaned forward, “That’s not really true. It’s just another story.”

Wulfgar shrugged, “I promise you. It happened exactly like that. I’m not saying it was a ghost, but I don’t know what it was.”

“Do you believe in ghosts?” asked Connor.

“Absolutely,” grinned Wulfgar.

“Really?” asked Corwin skeptically.

“Of course,” continued Wulfgar. “After all, we’re in a world where dragons and demons exist, why not ghosts?” He laughed.

“I mean, do you believe in ghosts outside of the Omegaverse,” laughed Connor.

Wulfgar shrugged and smiled.

“We also have another tradition,” said Connor, finishing his beer. “We sing around the campfire in Germany.” He sat up straight as Corwin and Wulfgar watched. Their jaws dropped as Connor began singing. It seemed that Bono’s voice sprang from Connor’s throat. He sang Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen. The two listeners sat transfixed through the song. When Connor ended, he smiled and sat back.

“Holy shit,” whispered Wulfgar. “That was amazing.” He leaned forward, “How did you learn to sing like that?”

Connor smiled, “It’s a Bard or Ranger skill. Mimicry. It’s mainly used for hunting,” he shrugged, “you know, making mating calls to attract game. Stuff like that. “ He smiled, “But you can make pretty much any sound that you’ve heard if you have the skill.”

Wulfgar nodded, thinking. That was an awesome skill. He looked to the ranger with a new level of respect.

“Do you take requests?” asked Corwin.

Connor nodded, “Sure. But I didn’t listen to a lot of new, popular music, so the songs I know are pretty old. Also,” Connor laughed loudly, “I can do a lot of voices, but don’t ask me to do Sam Cooke or Freddie Mercury. Maybe when I get to level fifty I’ll be able to sing that well.”

Wulfgar shrugged, “That Bono was pretty damn good.”

Connor nodded thanks.

They listened to Connor sing a few more songs in different voices, all eerily like their earthly counterparts. After Connor stopped, Wulfgar passed around the last three beers in his pack and they sat quietly for several minutes, enjoying the evening.

“Hey,” said Corwin suddenly, “let’s try something.” He reached into his inventory and pulled out the gift from Wulfgar. The tarot cards. He stood and moved to Wulfgar’s side of the fire. As he sat, he began shuffling the cards. He handed the stack to Wulfgar.

“Before you do anything. Think of a question that you want answered. Be very specific.”

Wulfgar nodded, ready.

“Shuffle them.”

“How much?”

Corwin shrugged, “As much as you feel they need. It’s your reading. You kind of have to lead the decisions.”

Wulfgar began shuffling. After a time, he looked up to Corwin.

“OK. If you’re done shuffling, cut the deck.”

Wulfgar nodded, and split the tarot into three equal sized stacks, then recombined them in a random order back into a single deck. He handed the deck back to Corwin’s outstretched hand.

Corwin spread the cards on the ground, face down. He looked up at Wulfgar.

“Pick one. At random. Maybe close your eyes.”

Wulfgar closed his eyes, stuck out his hand and picked up the first card he felt. He opened his eyes to see Corwin picking up the rest of the cards.

“I thought about this a lot,” Corwin began, “but there’s really nothing that leaps to mind about how to do this.”

Wulfgar nodded. Much of this world seemed to provide information if you simply willed it to be given. He understood skills seemingly innately as soon as he chose them; and if that skill provided information, such as Herb Lore did about the various plants of the world, he simply had to want to know the information for it to be given, like recalling a memory.

“Turn over the card,” Corwin continued, “and let’s see if we can get a reading out of it.”

Wulfgar looked down at the card.

A stylized castle keep was painted on it. As he looked at it, the painting began to move. The sky darkened and lightning flashed. A storm rose and slashed the building.

He read the text at the bottom of the card.

The Tower.

“Circumstances are beyond your control,” began Corwin, in a trance, “disaster is striking. Or is about to. Lightning represents payback. Those who have exploited others for their own gain are due for a reckoning. Revolution is coming. A time is coming after which everyone can have a fresh start. A new beginning.”

Wulfgar continued looking at the card.

Beyond my control, he smiled, but not beyond my influence. He looked up at Corwin, who seemed to come awake again.

“Whoah,” Corwin said, “that was pretty intense. I had no idea that would happen.” He shook his head, “Not sure if I’m a fan of these things.” He looked down at the deck, “Shit.”

Wulfgar looked at the deck as well. He read the item description.

Deck of Tarot. Unique. Bound to Corwin.

Binding had apparently occurred when Corwin had done the first reading. He looked up at the dark man.

“Is it making any more sense now? Now that it’s bound to you?”

Corwin nodded, “A little. I still can’t tell you what each card means, but I know we can do different types of readings.”

“No thanks. Not really up for that right now,” said Wulfgar.

“Can’t do a reading for any individual more than once per week anyway,” replied Corwin. He looked up at Connor.

“No way, no how. That stuff creeps me out,” said the ranger, waving his hands away.

“Disaster is striking. Revolution is coming. A reckoning.” Wulfgar shrugged and sat back against his pack. He put his hands behind his head and look up at the sparks from the fire rising into the air beneath the boughs. “I mean, it’s not really like it told me anything we didn’t already know.”

“What question did you ask it?” asked Connor, settling down likewise.

“Am I allowed to tell?”

Corwin laughed, “Sure. It’s not a wish.”

Wulfgar smiled into the night, “Well, I asked it how this whole war was going to end up.” He sighed, “I guess the result we got could indicate that we’re going to change this world. A lot.”

“What does your heart tell you?” asked Corwin. “That’s an important part. Your intuition is doing as much of the reading as anything else.”

Wulfgar nodded. “My intuition tells me that my question was too general. Not specific enough. We could be about to change this world. We might not.” He shook his head. Too much to worry about.

The trio sat in silence for several minutes, staring into the fire, each lost in his own thoughts. After a while, Connor lay back onto his pack.

“Might as well get some sleep,” said Connor, rolling over onto his side.

The other two humans did the same. Wulfgar rolled until his back was to the fire. As he settled in, he noticed that Bael was still sitting on the saddle of his horse. His eyes seemed to bore through Wulfgar. Studying him. Wulfgar would have loved to ask what he was thinking, but that seemed rude, somehow. He sighed.

Then a shock came over him. Shannon. He’d forgotten about her again. He forgot to setup a quest for her. To ask her what plot of land she wanted. She was the best friend he had in this world, as well as the last, and he kept forgetting to take care of her. He was so worried about making his new friends happy, he kept neglecting her. That had to end.

He tried to bring up the town management screen, to give her a nice piece of land, but he couldn’t. The screen was grayed out. Even here, just a few hundred meters outside of his borders, he couldn’t access it. That was frustrating. He’d be more comfortable, in the future, being able to check in on the status of the town while he was away.

Fuck. First thing after I get back. Take care of Shannon. Remind her of how important she is to me.

He sighed and decided he needed to sleep again, if for no other reason than to clear his mind for a few hours.

Wulfgar was just about to shut his eyes when he noticed flickering lights in the forest, moving closer.

Chapter 4

Wulfgar tried to sit up. He felt as though time slowed. Everything in the periphery of his vision blurred, dimmed. The lights moved through the trees toward the camp and he couldn’t do anything but watch. His senses became more acute. He could just make out the dribbling burble of water moving through the mouth of the river, many meters to the north, that emptied from the lake into the forest. He could more sharply smell the fecund soil of the woodland floor. The feel of the fur on the Cowl of the Wolf, rolled underneath his head as a pillow, intensified; the softness of the hairs seemed to kiss and caress the side of his neck and cheek.

The lights entered the flickering of the camp’s fire, and the several wisp-like orbs separated and moved to encircle the motionless humans. A wave that almost felt like drunkenness overcame Wulfgar. He could only watch, stock-still yet dizzy, as one of the lights moved directly toward his spot on the forest floor.

As it neared, a figure coalesced out of the light.

The most beautiful female that Wulfgar had ever seen.

Involuntarily, he drew a deep breath through his nose. A wave of desire rolled over him as the smell of her hit the hindmost, primeval, animal part of his brain. He knew that if he wasn’t frozen in place, he would have taken her no matter what. That he would have done anything to be with her.

A small part of himself wondered why he wasn’t afraid. It seemed to the sentient part of his soul that he shouldn’t be welcoming these feelings, but for the first time in this world he seemed to have an actual hormonal desire for something. Before it gave way to the feeling that was overwhelming him, the thinking part of his brain realized that there were things about being alive - actually being a biological entity - that he missed.

The nymph pulled a green hood from her head. Her hair fell about her perfect face as she bent to kiss him lightly on the lips. Once again, he could move, but he could only move in the way that she desired. As though on puppet strings, his arms rose and he took her face in his hands and returned her kiss. Though driven with a desire he had never felt before in either his earthen or Omegaverse existence, his caresses were soft. Slow. She moaned slightly, moving to straddle him.

She leaned into him, taking his head in her arms. Her face brushed past his and she breathed, heavily, into his ear. He felt her shudder as he moved his hands to her hips, pulling the soft velvety dress up to her waist. Her hand moved down his body until it reached his belt. Deftly, she undid the bindings and unbuttoned the front of his leather pants, releasing him.

Keeping total control, she took him in her hand and moved him into her. She arched her back, then leaned back into him, face to face. He looked deeply into her eyes, centimeters from his own. He felt another wave of overwhelming desire as they gazed at each other. He could discern nothing from her other than raw need. Hunger. Lust. His hands moved over her body touching her exactly where and how he somehow knew she wanted to be touched. She responded, moving up and down on him. Rhythmically. Slowly. Another shot of pheromones pulsed into his brain and he convulsed, filling her.

“You have taken 4 points of damage!”

Wulfgar continued to shake in ecstasy, stretching his neck and rolling his head backward. He caught a glimpse, as through gauze, of Corwin and Connor on the other side of the fire. They both shuddered underneath their respective nymphs and flashed redly as they lost hit points.

His nymph grabbed Wulfgar by the hair on the top of his head and pulled his face forward again, into hers. She breathed out again, filling his lungs with a punch of whatever it was that she was using to enrapture him. His body spasmed again and responded to her smell and her movements. She continued riding him as he moved into her once again. He felt the warm wetness as he thrust through the results of their coupling.

She leaned forward, again putting her mouth to his ear. She moaned softly again, then squeaked with pleasure as he grabbed her hips and pushed himself deeply inside of her. She gave him a little control and they both began moving, taking from the other exactly what they wanted. Exactly what they needed. They shuddered together, again.

“You have taken 6 points of damage!”

He groaned then pulled her head to his and kissed her deeply. His other hand moved up her body, inside of her dress, grabbing her and squeezing. Roughly. Exactly as she wanted. He bit lightly on her tongue as her hands moved underneath his leather shirt and her nails dug into either pectoral muscle. She started to rock on him again, pushing against him harder and harder. A new wave of scent smacked his hindbrain as she bucked, squealing and moaning. He climaxed for the third time.

“You have taken 5 points of damage!”

A small part of his mind warned that he was in grave danger - the overwhelmingly majority of his mind told that part of him to shut the fuck up.

Wulfgar shuddered and woke. The world was painted red, flashing in the slow rhythm of his heartbeat. He sat, slowly, looking around him. The sun had risen and a morning mist had fallen. The fire had gone out in the night and the blackened remains smoldered. He put his head between his knees and groaned. He brought up his character sheet. He had one hit-point left. Without looking, he reached into his inventory and pulled out a healing poultice and slapped it onto his shirtless torso.

A feeling of relief came over him as his hit points started to rise. After a few moments, the color through which the world was filtered changed from red to yellow as his hit points approached the halfway point. He groaned again and looked across at the other two humans, similarly rising from their nymph induced slumber.

Wulfgar raised a hand toward Connor and activated his new Heal spell. Wulfgar held it until his mana had reduced by half. Connor’s glow had just changed from yellow, so just over half of his hit points were restored. Wulfgar would get the rest with a poultice. He turned to Corwin.

“Give me a minute,” he said softly. “Cool down.”

Corwin’s dark hair bobbed as he nodded understanding. Wulfgar used the cool-down period to watch the man. Curled into a seated position with his arms across his knees and his head on his forearm, he pulsed a deep red. They were all, it seems, down to just the bare minimum of hit points required to still be alive.

Wulfgar looked up to his horse. Bael still sat as he had the night before. Staring at the humans.

“Why didn’t you help?” asked Wulfgar.

“With what? The nymphs?” The little faerie prince shrugged, “It looked like you were having fun.” He smiled beatifically.

“We’re almost dead,” countered Wulfgar. He felt his cool-down end, and turned to Corwin and once again cast a heal. He looked up at Bael. The smile hadn’t changed.

“River nymphs won’t kill you. Won’t kill humans,” he corrected himself. “That’s how they feed.”

“On sex?” asked Corwin as his aura lost its yellow glow.

Wulfgar sat back, closed his eyes, and activated Meditation. He felt his mana begin to regenerate, a tickle in the back of his brain.

“Through sex,” corrected Bael. “That’s how they transfer the life-force from you to them.”

“But they could have killed us,” countered Connor.

“It’s not in their nature,” answered Bael. “I knew that you were never in any danger. Not from nymphs. There are other creatures that are not so ethical.”

Wulfgar opened his eyes, his mana rejuvenated, “Other creatures?”

Bael nodded. “There are some that would feed on your life-force until you expired with no more thought than you would give a chicken egg.”

“They feed through sex?” asked Wulfgar

“Some,” confirmed Bael.

Death by snu-snu, thought Wulfgar.

“Some not,” continued Bael. “It’s really the same with vampires. They don’t really feed on your blood, but draining and drinking your blood is how they take your life-force. A lich,” he shuddered, remembering his brother, “dispels with any artifice. They cut directly into you and tear your essence directly from your heart.” The faerie quieted, seemingly lost in thought.

Wulfgar stood and began packing, giving Bael the time that the prince needed. He looked to Connor. A thought entered his mind, but he wasn’t sure how to express it.

Apparently, Corwin had the same thought and no compunction about bringing up the subject matter. “So, Connor,” he began, “what do you think of your penis now?”

The German haus-frau, wrapped in the body of a lanky Celt, looked abashed. Then he smiled, “That was fun,” he looked down, embarrassed. “It’s certainly a, uhm,” he thought for a second, “different experience than what I was used to.” He nodded, “Yes. It was pleasant.” He smiled broadly, “I would not be against having an experience like that again.”

Near death or not, Wulfgar had to nod in agreement. That had been a night to remember; possibly the best night of either of his lives. There had never been an experience that compared.

Except maybe that one night with the red-headed nurse a few years ago, he mused, or maybe that woman from Copenhagen, a blond Valkyrie who had completely rocked his world.

In any case last night was at worst a top-five event. A death-bed memory, he concluded. Especially since, unless his body outside of the Omegaverse was already expired, he technically was still on his death-bed.

As they packed, Connor began singing. “Crazy Love”. His voice echoed perfectly Van Morrison’s. As the song finished, the humans mounted their horses and sat back into the saddles.

Wulfgar sighed and looked at the faerie, once again sitting backward on the horse’s head, smiling up at him.

“Which way?” asked Wulfgar.

Wulfgar looked down into the river. They had followed it for an hour, meandering through the woods. It was an easy ride, moving through the widely separated trees which grew ever larger the deeper into the forest they wandered. The river, which drained from the large lake, was never much more or less than one hundred meters wide. It looked deep and didn’t seem to flow particularly fast - the odd floating branch or twig they saw never seemed to move even as fast as their walking horses. A steady breeze blew from the west, in the opposite direction of the river’s flow. They were unable, however, to see anything in the distance over the tops of the trees.

“Stop,” said Bael softly and Wulfgar reined in his horse. The other two followed his lead. The faerie looked around and into the wood on their side of the river. He stared into the forest for a minute, then looked up at Wulfgar and stood, his hands on his hips, his feet planted wide in between the horse’s ears.

“Wait here,” he said quickly, then seemed to float to the earth and move effortlessly into the forest.

Wulfgar looked back as his companions, raised his eyebrows and shrugged, “We wait here, I guess.”

Connor sat back in the saddle and began softly singing. Robert Plant’s voice came out of the ranger as the strains of Stairway to Heaven permeated the glade.

“Any chance of you getting some of those nymphs to move into the town?” asked Corwin lightly.

Wulfgar chuckled, “I’ll look into it.” There would be worse ways to spend every night for eternity, he thought. He looked out over the river, half wishing to see some sign of the nymphs. Even though he knew his reactions last night were magical, they had felt more real than any hormonal flood he’d experienced. Ever.

If that’s what drug addiction is like, he mused, I’m glad I never tried it. He thought for a moment, Well, the hard stuff anyway. Pot had never felt like a nymph. He was brought back to the present when Connor’s voice raised, louder than before but still singing.

“If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now,” he sang, then quieted.

Wulfgar looked back into the woods.

Bael was returning. He was followed by a pair of beings; if anything more beautiful than the faerie and nymph combined. Even as they reached the humans, Wulfgar couldn’t tell if they were male or female. Wulfgar nodded in greeting.

“You are the king?” asked one, almost more statement than question. Wulfgar nodded again.

“Leave the horses,” said the other. “They’ll come to no harm.”

The humans dismounted and the elves turned. They began walking back through the woods with no further comment. Wulfgar looked to his companions, raised his eyebrows, and turned to follow the elves. Bael floated up and perched on Wulfgar’s shoulder.

“Names?” Wulfgar whispered quietly.

“They don’t care what yours are, and it wouldn’t occur to them to tell you theirs, any more than you’d introduce yourself to an animal.”

Wulfgar nodded and picked up the pace. The androgynous pair moved quickly, and as he fell in behind them, Wulfgar took the opportunity to examine them. They were a good head and a half shorter than Wulfgar. Smaller than most humans he’d seen. More delicate, but with an air of infinite strength and overwhelming will. They would probably be described as wiry if they weren’t so graceful. One had long, dark hair. Braided on the left and right, which were tied together in the back. It fell to his, or her, waist. The other had shorter, curly red hair that draped over the nape of the neck. The redhead wore tight fitting blue pants and shirt, with a wide green belt. The other a flowing saffron robe. Neither had weapons of any kind visible, but Wulfgar had no doubt that if they wanted to, they could kill all three humans without problem.

After several minutes walking, Wulfgar noticed movement on the periphery of his vision. Glancing quickly left then right, he saw more elves. All wore similarly dissimilar clothing to the leading pair. None seemed worry about whether or not the colors of their outfits served in any way to camouflage them. They all converged on the visiting party with a casual insouciance that impressed Wulfgar. Their entire escort seemed unconcerned with the humans.

Shortly afterward, the forest opened into a larger glade. More elves approached from the other side. A quick estimate told Wulfgar that there were upward of a hundred elves converging on the center of the clearing. Wulfgar didn’t need to be told which was the sylvan king. There was no deference on the part of the rest of the elves, but one carried a gravitas that dwarfed any other occupant of the glade. By a long shot, Wulfgar mused.

He was no taller than the rest of the elves. No more or less ornately dressed. Wulfgar admitted to himself that if he was looking at a picture of this crowd, there would be nothing that indicated which was the leader.

“Bow,” said Bael quietly.

Wulfgar complied, bending deeply from the waist. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his companions mirroring his movements. He held the bow until Bael whispered that he should again straighten.

After he rose, he made eye contact for the first time with the elven king. He didn’t have to be told to be deferential - it was as natural as drawing his next breath. Even though he was much taller and larger than the elf, he felt dwarfed by his presence.

“Thank you,” said Wulfgar softly. He felt no need to explain why, and he saw that the elf understood. Simply granting the human an audience was obviously reason enough for thanks. He got the impression that the fewer words he used, the better. He waited for the elf to speak. He held the king’s eyes for an uncomfortably long, silent time. Eventually, he seemed to have passed some sort of test and the elf lord spoke for the first time.

“You are the new leader of the humans. Marchstone.” There was no question in the statement; it was a preamble.

Wulfgar bowed again, remaining silent.

“Do you come to offer fealty?”

Wulfgar looked into the elven eyes, “No.”

The elf nodded. Wulfgar thought that he’d passed another test - no king worth considering would offer fealty to another. Alliance, yes; allegiance, no. The elf king remained silent. Wulfgar took that to indicate that it was his turn.

How to continue? he thought. He remembered Bael’s description of the elven folk and realized that he had to tread lightly. He couldn’t be obsequious, but he couldn’t be arrogant either. He had to be deferential without showing weakness or indecisiveness.

“I merely come to introduce myself. To offer my assurance that we wish for a mutually beneficial relationship. One that can grow over time.”

The king frowned softly. From his own character sheet, Wulfgar knew that the elves regarded him with suspicion. Mainly from his relationship with the dwarves - the elves’s neighbors to the south. To be a dwarf-friend was to be suspect to an elf.

“I would offer the same that I offer to all of my neighbors,” Wulfgar added, leaving out specific mention of the dwarves. That would be obvious to the elf and refraining from mentioning their longtime antagonist could only help.

“What of the other humans?”

Wulfgar shrugged, “I did not declare war upon them. I would live in peace with them, but sometimes peace must be tempered in blood.”

The elf nodded.

“In any case, the lands of Marchstone were not part of King Clive’s kingdom. His declaration of war is unjust.”

The elf shrugged. Justice would be determined by outcome; the king that won would be the king that was in the right. That was the way it was with kings, the way it always had been. Write the history, and you determine right and wrong, and it was usually the winner that wrote the history.

“I am not unwilling,” said the elf king slowly, “to accept your assurances. But there is first something I need you, as the leader of Marchstone, to address.” A dark cloud floated over the glade, dimming the sunlight and spreading a shade over the meeting. The rest of the elves seemed to shrink a little, dread overcoming them.

“I will do what I can.”

“We would not willingly leave our wood. Occasionally, however, one of us disappears. Without trace or sign. They are never missing for more than a week before their body returns to us. In the river.”

Wulfgar nodded. The river flowed out of his territory. Any body that was in the river was first placed in the lake. His lake. He thought to yesterday’s ride. To the little stand of trees that they’d passed - the copse had emanated a sense of dread; one similar to the feeling that now permeated the glen.

“Two are now missing,” sighed the king. “One of us was taken. A week ago. The other,” a shudder went through the crowd, “was taken two days ago. My son. The prince.” He looked to Wulfgar questioningly.

“I will do what I can,” repeated the human.

“You have accepted the quest Prince in Peril from The Elf King!”

Wulfgar nodded and smiled, even though the quest felt red. Highly dangerous.

Crap, he thought, and on top of that, it’s not as if I don’t have enough to do. He knew that trying to bring up any talk of an alliance or help in the war was pointless until the quest was completed. Successfully completed.

The trio of humans and their faerie guide left the elven forest in mid-afternoon. The heat of the day was cresting and the westering sun lit the eastern mountains of Wulfgar’s realm beautifully. The distant snow-covered peaks loomed over the valley.

They rode briskly, trying to retrace their previous day’s ride quickly. Wulfgar wanted to complete this quest and return to the elves as rapidly as possible; there were a little fewer than five whole days until resurrection was once again turned off.

Wulfgar looked to Bael, the little faerie sitting cross-legged between the horse’s ears. He looked up at the human, smiling.

“Yes?”

“I was just wondering how you got here so quickly. Did you use plane travel?”

Bael nodded, “Yes.”

“Tell me about it.”

The faerie began scratching at the base of the horse’s left ear. “It’s a pretty standard means of getting from one place to another fairly quickly. It’s dangerous, though. Very dangerous. Especially so for beings such as yourself.” He paused in thought for a moment, “If I were to accept your offer to create a kingdom here, I would return to my people using plane travel, but I would not come back through the planes with those of my people who wanted to settle here. It’s perilous for a lone faerie to go through the nether planes, but to take a large group through? That would be foolish.”

“Why?”

“The denizens of the other planes are typically more powerful, much more powerful, than those of us on the mundane plane.”

“Demons?”

“Among other things. Even the counterparts of those that live in this world are much more powerful in the planes. Even the most ancient dragon in this world would be only a middling power in the planes, but the denizens of the planes are much less powerful in our realm than their own.”

Wulfgar thought for a moment, “Where can you travel to? I mean, can I just open a portal here and go through and enter Edonis?” He was worried about a force being able to leave that city - or just outside of it - and bypass his wall, attacking from within the kingdom.

“It’s not that precise, no.” Bael shrugged, “The entry and exit points are not fixed. And the further you travel, the more power it takes. A non-magical being such as yourself would not be able to use the planes for point to point travel. Even the most powerful of your wizards would not be able to open up an exit portal that was in another location from that which they entered. While you have magic, yours is learned. Mine is,” he shrugged, “more inborn. You use magic, I am part of it. It’s a distinction that usually doesn’t matter, but in the case of plane travel it’s very important, and that’s what I mean when I refer to you as non-magical.”

“Would a magical being be able to take a party of non-magical beings through? To travel point to point?”

“Could we? Conceivably. Would we? Highly unlikely. The further the non-magical being gets from their entry point, the more noticeable you become to the denizens. After a distance, and not a relatively long distance, your very presence acts as an alarm, attracting the residents to your presence. It would be a suicide mission for even the most powerful of us within this world.”

“But a short distance travel would be possible?”

“Not point to point. For you to create an exit point, you have to get far enough away from your entry point that you would also attract attention. And you would have to get many kilometers away from your entry point in order to create an exit point. No, the entry point acts as a kind of binding point for yourself within this world. If you leave the plane, you’ll exit at the same place that you entered.”

Wulfgar nodded. That seemed to be a good game design decision, if nothing else. The word’s designers didn’t want players using plane travel to get from one part of the world to another - it functioned more like an instanced dungeon; the deeper into which you got, the more dangerous it became.

“Would you be able to help a non-magical sorcerer prepare a plane travel spell?”

Bael frowned, “Possibly. If I were present when they cast, I would likely be able to add my own power to theirs, allowing them to extend their time within the planes, or even reach a deeper plane than their skill would otherwise allow, but none of the restrictions we spoke of would be affected at all by that.”

After they left the elven woods they turned to the southeast, following the shoreline of the lake. After several kilometers, Connor pointed out two figures in the distance. They were on an intercepting course and their paths would cross in a few minutes. As Wulfgar watched, the figures seemed to drop to the ground and begin a loping run on all fours that would quickly eat up the distance. The pair soon altered course and turned directly toward the humans.

“Spread out,” said Wulfgar quietly. Calmly. He turned his horse toward the figures and saw that Connor and Corwin moved out several meters on his left and right flanks. Connor lay his Fire Bow across his lap and nocked an arrow, ready to pull. Corwin drew a thin, single-handed sword. The blade rested on the pommel of the dark man’s saddle.

Wulfgar sat up straight and watched. As they neared, the pair resolved into what looked like large, dark wolves. Their running slowed as they got within one hundred meters and Wulfgar sighed, leaning back in the saddle.

“It’s OK,” he whispered. “I think.”

The two Canis Arcturus raised back into bipedal locomotion as they approached the horses and Wulfgar waved.

“Gar! Nop!” he hailed, hoping that he was right. The toothy grins that broke out on the pair of werewolves - a race that were allies within the outer Omegaverse - told him that he was.

On first entering the Omegaverse he had earned the Cowl of the Wolf, a relic that granted him neutrality with the Canis Arcturus; known as werewolves colloquially within the game world. Ironically, he’d gained the cowl by killing an elder of the species; shot with a powerful rail gun. A gun that had been so rare and valuable that when he’d later auctioned it off, it had provided enough money to purchase a top of the line trading ship.

He had then used the cowl to go to the Canis Arcturus home-world and establish a partnership that allowed him to visit their otherwise unreachable - by humans - space station and purchase trading goods at much lower prices than were available anywhere else in the known universe. The constant stream of income from that route had provided an important revenue stream for his burgeoning empire.

His first night in this world within a world, he had stumbled into an inn and met these two werewolves and their human friend Snorri. He hoped that their friendship would transfer, but he wondered at their sudden arrival. He knew - or at least assumed - that the Canis Arcturus were like he, Connor, and Corwin. Players in this world. Not AI. That was a conversation he wanted to have with the pair at some point. Were they part of the experiment, whatever it was? Were they xenoanthropologists like Clive? Were they just a couple of alien guys who decided that they wanted to play an earthling biased role-playing game?

“Wulfgar,” nodded one of the pair.

Wulfgar was unable to tell them apart. He smiled back and introduced the werewolves to the humans and faerie, and brought the newcomers up to speed.

“We would love to have your help in the village, and I’m sure Snorri would appreciate it.” He smiled, “And I would appreciate your help on this little quest of ours.” He wondered if their sense of smell was as canine as their appearance.

“We’d be glad to help,” said the other.

They reached the eerie copse in the late afternoon. The sun shone on the western side of the wood, sending lengthening shadows eastward. The humans dismounted and they moved into the trees. The total area of the mini-forest was no more than half an acre, if that. But it was dense. Darker than it should be for its size. The undergrowth was thick; the complete opposite of the open and inviting elven woodland. They worked their way through the trees, side by side, until they emerged back into the open.

Wulfgar looked at the others, who shook their heads. Nobody had seen anything out of the ordinary. He turned to a werewolf, “Did you notice anything?”

“A dank smell. Worse than I would expect. But nothing specific.”

Wulfgar nodded and made his way around to the lake-side of the wood. He was looking back into the trees when Connor hailed the group.

“Look!” said the ranger, pointing at the lake surface.

The rest turned and Wulfgar saw a bubbling in the water, about thirty meters offshore. As they watched, the size and rate of the bubbles increased and were shortly followed by a body that surfaced, face down. The bubbles stopped rising and the body bobbed in the water, slowly moving westward toward where the lake emptied into the elven river.

Wulfgar quickly shed his cowl, cape, and backpack and running toward the water, pulled his belt loose and let it fall. Still on the run, he dove into the water and began swimming, using his forward momentum to help carry him ten meters underwater. As he surfaced he began kicking. His sandals and clothes slowed him, but he reached the naked body quickly and pulled on the far shoulder, turning it over in the water. He got the head above the surface and, reaching over its right shoulder, he pulled the body into his hip, keeping the face above water. Wulfgar began kicking and using a side stroke toward shore.

As he reached the shallows, Connor and Corwin took over and pulled the body onto shore. Wulfgar immediately stood and pointed his right hand at the lifeless elf, activating his healing spell.

To no effect.

Wulfgar looked to the others and shook his head. He bent and examined the elf. Even in death, it looked serene. Almost lovely. He touched the skin. It was cold - but he had no idea if that meant that the elf had been dead for a while or if elves were just naturally cold. He looked over the face and neck, then down the body. There was no obvious sign of trauma. He rolled the body and look down the back to the same result. The elf looked fine.

Apart from being dead, that is, Wulfgar thought, standing and facing the others.

He thumbed over his right shoulder, toward the lake behind, “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m kind of curious just exactly how an elf suddenly surfaced from the bottom of an otherwise placid lake.” He began taking off his shoes, pants, and shirt. Standing naked, he turned toward the water.

“I’ll be back in a second. Can you guys figure out how we’re going to get this guy back to his people?” He began wading into the lake.

“We could just drop him back in. Let the water take him back,” suggested Corwin.

“Maybe something a little bit more dignified,” responded Wulfgar. “We’re trying to create a good impression with the elves.” When the water reached his waist, he dove again and swam as far as he could underwater. About thirty meters out, he surfaced and turned to the shore.

“Is this about where the body came up?”

The rest of the group waved from the shore, Corwin giving a thumbs up.

Nodding, Wulfgar took a deep breath and dove.

The water rapidly darkened as Wulfgar kicked away from the surface. Tiny bubbles continued to rise, giving him an indication of which direction he should go. After diving for thirty seconds, he saw a faint glow in the darkness and as he got closer, it widened and grew until he could just make out an opening in a small cliff-side that thrust upward from the bottom of the lake floor. Turning, he kicked back toward the surface, his lungs aching. He wondered if carrying some kind of weight to help him sink would get him to the bottom faster and with less exertion than swimming downward.

His face burst through into the air and he gulped a deep breath, then began swimming toward the shoreline and the waiting group. He waded onto the ground and turned and sat, looking out over the lake. The two humans returned from the horses, where they’d just finished draping the hapless elf over the flanks of Wulfgar’s mount.

“We thought putting it on the king’s horse would create the best impression for the elves,” said a grinning Corwin.

“Smart-ass,” smiled Wulfgar, looking up over his shoulder. He turned back toward the lake, “Just underneath where I dove, there is a small cliff face on the bottom.”

“How deep?” asked one of the werewolves.

Wulfgar shrugged, “I’m not really good at judging the distance, but it probably would have taken all of my breath to get to it.” He looked back at the woods, “Did anyone see anything in there that we could use to weight ourselves down? To make diving easier?”

“Not really,” said Corwin, “and besides, how would we get it out there? Out where we need to dive? Any weight heavy enough to help drag us down would need a boat to get it to the diving spot. No way could we swim with it.”

Wulfgar nodded at the truth of it.

“I don’t see any other way, apart from just diving down. I don’t think we’ll be able to take much, at least not our backpacks. Just weapons and clothes. Our packs would probably hinder our way down as much as anything. They’d probably act as balloons tied to our backs.”

“Likely so,” nodded Connor.

Wulfgar began pulling on his shirt, pants and shoes, “So unless one of you knows where a boat is around here, it looks like we’re doing a shore dive.” He stood and looked at the rest, who nodded. “However, there is one thing that we should take care of first.” He carried his backpack away from the shore, and set it down near the verge of the copse. He knelt over it and opened it, rooting through his inventory.

He pulled out several small items.

“Acorn?” asked Connor.

Wulfgar nodded and dropped the acorn to the ground, then stacked a number of other bits of woodland detritus on top of it. Then he smiled and put it all back into his pack, laughing softly at himself.

“What?” asked Corwin.

“I was just going to make a shrine for us. I’m a druid. One of my abilities is to make a shrine that will let us bind and res here before we dive down.”

“Then why are you putting all of that away?” asked Connor.

“Because I’m an idiot,” laughed Wulfgar. He stood and pointed at the woods, “I can also just use an oak, ash, apple, hazel, elder or yew tree. Any of the trees that was holy to the ancient druids.” He walked to the edge of the trees, “Like this old oak, for example.” He closed his eyes and willed the tree to become his binding point.

“Until the end of this lunar cycle, we can use this as our resurrection point,” he looked at the werewolves - they seemed to be following the conversation, indicating that they weren’t AI; AI never seemed to pay attention whenever players talked about player-specific rules. “Once the lunar cycle passes, your bindings will revert to wherever your previous binding was.” He shrugged, “Unless, of course, it was a different druid holy tree.”

He looked to Bael. One of the benefits of becoming a druid was a plus two Reputation with the Faerie, but the little prince seemed to take no notice of this part of the player conversation. The humans and the Canis Arcturus all flashed green as they bound to the res point.

“When does the lunar cycle end?” asked Corwin.

“No clue,” smiled Wulfgar.

Bael looked skyward, rejoining the conversation, “We seem to be in the middle of the cycle. So, two weeks.”

Long after resurrection is turned back off, in any case, thought Wulfgar, so the specific date doesn’t really matter.

Bael looked back down, “It pleases me to see you all give thanks at the holy tree before partaking this quest. Especially,” he frowned, “since I cannot join you. We cannot go into moving water.”

Wulfgar nodded, looking at the werewolves.

“We are strong swimmers,” said one, answering the human’s unasked question, “and can certainly join you. We are not really divers, though, and might need some help getting to the bottom.”

Wulfgar kicked, pushing himself away from the surface of the lake. Nop’s teeth clamped the werewolf to the collar of Wulfgar’s shirt. It made for a difficult swim; much more so than the previous dive. The group had decided do dive in intervals, with thirty seconds between. That would allow each to get through the doorway and make room for any following.

“But what if there’s not a way through?” asked Connor. “What if there’s nothing down there but a glow?”

Wulfgar had laughed, “Then we’ll probably see each other back up here. Resurrecting around the oak tree.”

They needed to travel lightly. Minimal clothes and their weapon. Wulfgar had taken off his Sack of Herbs and another small pack, and wrapped them tightly. He put them in the small of his back, underneath his shirt. He tucked his shirt back into his pants and tightened the belt as much as possible. He had only hoped it was enough to keep water out and the contents dry.

Wulfgar could feel water working its way down his back as he continued swimming downward. He was being slowed by dragging the Canis Arcturus, but he was reasonably sure that he could make the bottom before his lungs gave out. Through the gloom, he could just see the faint glow he’d seen before, and he redoubled his effort, pushing himself and his ally ever downward.

They reached the bottom and, his lungs screaming for air, Wulfgar pushed Nop through the opening, then kicked himself into the light. He coughed and sputtered as his face broke the water’s surface within the small cave and he stood, activating his Illumination spell. He was in the center of a roughly circular room. He was standing in the middle of a downward facing doorway - a trap door that dropped from the room’s center and into the little alcove in the lake-bottom cave. He stepped out of the hole and onto the stone floor.

As he did, the world flashed green.

He looked to Nop, “Did you flash green as you entered the room?”

The werewolf nodded.

“Hmm,” Wulfgar said, looking around, “interesting. That means that we’ve just bound to this spot. Coming through must activate it automatically.” If they died in this dungeon - or whatever it was - they would automatically resurrect here.

“Shit!” cried Wulfgar softly, turning and lunging for the door. He tried to go back through the opening, but something prevented him from dropping down into the water. Whatever this gateway was - it was a one way trip, at least it was for a live body. He knelt, lifted the wooden portal and slammed it shut then stood on it.

“What are you doing?” asked Nop, moving toward the human.

“If we die here, we’re going to be resurrected here. At the beginning, or end, of this dungeon. We can’t go back out the way we came in and we have no idea what we’re in for in there. We might be totally outmatched. This quest felt red when we accepted it. And whatever is in there,” he pointed to the lone, dark, dank stairway that led up into darkness, “it chews up and spits out elves. Dead elves.”

They heard scratching on the other side of the door, then a frantic pound.

Wulfgar looked to Nop, “If we let them in, we could all be trapped here. As it is, I have a high level of Stealth and have a spell that I can use to give one other player a high level of Stealth. The two of us can sneak our way through to the other side if we have to. But the others,” he looked down at the door as the scratches stopped, “the others wouldn’t have the ability to Stealth. They could be trapped in here forever.”

Nop looked at the doorway, “They will not be happy with you,” he said quietly.

Wulfgar nodded, “I know. It can’t be helped. Look,” he said looking toward the doorway, “we can turn this into a scouting mission. You and I can go through and find the other end of this thing and get out. Then, if it seems feasible, we can bring the others back in.”

“You’re assuming that the others will follow you again,” sniffed the werewolf.

“I am. I think that once they hear the situation, they’ll understand why I did what I did. Even if it turns out I’m wrong. I just didn’t have the time to find out and couldn’t take the chance.”

“Why do you think that there even is another way out of this place?”

“It’s an assumption,” Wulfgar agreed, “but I don’t see whoever lives in here using this,” he pointed between his legs toward the door, “as the main entrance. It’s at the bottom of the lake, and I doubt they enter their home like we did.” He shook his head, “No. This is the trash chute. When they’re done with an elf, they bring him down here and push him through.”

“When they’re done doing what to the elf?”

Wulfgar shrugged, “That’s the real question, isn’t it?”

He moved off of the door and lifted it. Connor’s dead face burst through the surface of the water. Wulfgar dropped the door gently back onto the floor, in the open position, and pulled Shepherd’s Bite from its sheath. He began carving onto the wet face of the door. A large “O”, then a slash through it. As quickly as he could, he carved two words.

No Enter.

Then he lifted the door again and closed off the entrance. He hoped that if his friends tried to dive back down, they would receive, understand, and follow the message.

He moved to the bottom of the stairway and looked up. Nop joined him on the other side of the opening.

“The smell,” whispered the werewolf, “reminds me of the trees above.”

Wulfgar nodded. His assumption was that the real entrance to these caverns was in the copse - somehow magically shielded from discovery.

“Have you smelled it before?”

“Just on you. I noticed a slight smell of it on you three humans today.”

“Before we got to the trees?”

Nop nodded. “There’s something in the smell that’s the same between what I smelled on you, what I smelled in the wood and what I smell now. It’s like a musk.” He thought for a moment, “It’s not the smell of death that you probably smell here and in the woods, but the smell was also there and here. I wasn’t sure in the woods if I was smelling it new, or if I was just still smelling it on you humans, but now, I’m smelling it stronger. Coming from up the stairs.”

Wulfgar nodded, understanding but not knowing the smell to which Nop was referring.

“Did you smell it on me before? When we met in the tavern?”

The werewolf shook his head.

He wondered if the smell that Nop was referring to was the pheromones used by the nymphs. Wulfgar frowned, looking up the stairs.

Could there be nymphs up there? Is this where they live?

But that didn’t make any sense to Wulfgar. Whoever was up there was killing elves. Bael said that nymphs didn’t kill. It wasn’t in their nature.

But he said they didn’t kill humans. Maybe they kill elves? If so, this shouldn’t be all that dangerous - but Wulfgar doubted that. Nymphs, he knew, were historically - or mythologically - water dwellers. They lived in rivers. Not in underwater caverns. Whatever lived in this place must surely not be nymphs.

He shrugged it off - they would find out soon enough. He looked back to Nop.

“The spell I have. It will allow me to grant you the ability to use Stealth. At half of my modified level, which is fourteen. So you’ll be at level seven. That will give you,” he did a quick mental calculation, “seventy seconds of Stealth. That will help keep you from being seen, but try to stick to the shadows. Try not to make any noise. There are ways that you can still be discovered even while hiding, so tread carefully.”

The werewolf nodded, “I can move quite silently when needed.”

“Good. My spell can only be cast once per hour, though, so we’ll have to use it sparingly.” He thought for a moment, “Do you think it’s worth experiment with first? Before we begin moving into the dungeon?”

“Probably. It would be best for me to have a little experience using it before I have to try it out in an emergency.”

“Agreed. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll cast the spell on you, then I’ll begin moving up the stairs. When I get near the top, I’ll go into Stealth. My level fourteen gives me twice as long, nearly two and a half minutes. Plus,” he smiled, “my cool-down is much less than for the spell. Ten minutes. So I’ll do a lot of the scouting ahead, but we’ll be making way slowly. Lots of rest periods.”

Nop nodded agreement.

“So once I get to the top of the stairs, I’ll either come back down to join you if it looks dangerous, or I’ll give a little whistle. At the whistle, go into stealth and join me up the stairs. That should give you some practice using it.” Wulfgar un-tucked his shirt and took out the two small bags in the small of his back. He put them both on the belt then refastened the buckle. Reaching behind, he made sure that Shepherd’s Bite was positioned for a quick draw.

Once sorted, he looked to the Canis Arcturus and activated the Confer spell while concentrating on his Stealth skill.

Nop smiled, “Just got a message. I have been conferred Stealth level seven by Wulfgar. It says I need to use it within the next day.”

Wulfgar wondered if he’d be able to Confer multiple skills on people over the course of a day. That would certainly come in handy - he would be able to give multiple people within the group the Stealth skill before embarking on their plane travel, for example.

Shit! he thought, Maybe I didn’t have to close off the rest of the group. He thought about it some more and decided that having to wait an hour in between each Confer of Stealth would be unwieldy. Best to just have one other to need the skill. For now.

He looked down at Nop, “Good. Do you know how to use Stealth?”

“Yes. I have the description. Stealth lowers the detection likelihood and radius of the player. Each level removes one point five percent of radius, multiplied by player’s Agility. Separate checks are made for visual and aural radii, each based on several environmental variables. Each level allows for 10 seconds of stealthy movement. Cool-down 10 minutes. Active.”

“That’s the one,” smiled Wulfgar. He turned and began climbing the stairs. Turning off his Illumination spell, he was enveloped in darkness. He reached to the left wall and guided himself up what turned out to be a circular stairway. His right hand he rested on the handle of his short sword, still within its sheath. He could see nothing at first, but his eyes adjusted to the darkness much more quickly than his biological eyes would have. He could make out the barest hint of the stone wall that shepherded him upward and to the right. The wall felt damp, and the dank smell increased as he rounded the stairs.

He began to wonder how much longer the stairs would go.

Can’t be too much further, otherwise they’d have gone through the surface of the lake.

He shrugged and smiled into the darkness, then again, that one-way portal we came through could have transported us anywhere. We might not even be underneath the lake any more.

The stairwell began to lighten as he climbed; more than could be explained by his adjusting eyesight. He was nearing a light source. Probably the opening into whatever lair was above. He began to move more slowly, trying to regulate his breathing to be as silent as possible.

The light quickly grew brighter and a doorway finally came into view. The stairway ended and opened into a well lit room. Wulfgar paused for a moment where he was, listening. In the pure silence he could hear nothing coming from the room, so he began to creep his way toward the opening. He began to scan the room as he moved closer to the door, and scanned across the area as he gained the opening. The room wasn’t large, maybe ten meters by ten meters. There were a pair of wooden tables side by side in the center, illuminated by lit torches, one sconce on each wall. A closed door was on the far wall and the one on the right. The left wall had closed cupboards. There was no sign of life.

Wulfgar turned and, forgetting their previous plan, jogged down the stairway to the waiting Canis Arcturus.

As he entered the little room, Nop looked up and asked, “There was something up there?”

“Just a room,” he answered, pulling open the pouch that hung on the other side of his belt from the Sack of Herbs. “I thought we might as well not waste your Stealth yet. I have about forty-five minutes left before my Confer spell cools down, and I forgot that I have some treats for us. He reached into the pouch and pulled out two pieces of beef jerky, handing one to the werewolf.

He explained who Enquire Arenis was and how Wulfgar had purchased some of the man’s wares before leaving Edonis. Wulfgar began chewing on the piece of dried meat. In addition to the incredible, mouth-watering flavor that flooded his senses, he received a message.

Your agility has increased +5 for six hours!

From the grin on the werewolf, Wulfgar knew that Nop had received a similar message.

“This tastes incredible,” the werewolf whispered, smacking his lips over his large canines. “There will be a supply in the village?”

“I hope so,” replied Wulfgar. “I’m kind of surprised that Snorri never mentioned this guy. Never gave you any of the man’s food. He was the one who introduced me to it.”

“That is a question I will have to ask Snorri. His answer could determine whether or not he lives,” grinned Nop.

“In any case,” continued Wulfgar, “the increased agility should help a great deal with our Stealth. I was thinking that you might as well not activate it yet, since at the top of the stairs is a small room. There are doors, but they are closed. There are also cabinets, and we should search the room. You know,” he smiled, “just incase there’s any good loot.”

He turned back to the stairs and said softly over his shoulder, “Just be ready to activate Stealth instantly if one of the doors begins to open.”

The pair entered the room and quickly split up. Wulfgar went left, Nop right. In addition to the row of cupboards on the left wall, a smaller pair flanked the doorway they’d just gone through. He reached up and pulled the torch from that wall’s sconce and snuffed the flame, then returned it - a little darkness covering their escape route could come in handy. Then he turned to the cabinet, opening the first door he came to. Wulfgar grinned in happiness as he saw two small backpacks stuffed into the storage space. He grabbed one and whistled softly to get Nop’s attention, then tossed it to the werewolf. He pulled the other onto his back and saw Nop shake his head; nothing in that cupboard worth taking.

He pulled open the second door on the sideboard and was rewarded with a beautifully crafted musical instrument. A lute. Wulfgar picked it up and examined it, careful not to touch the strings; he didn’t want to risk any noise. It was some kind of wood, highly polished and deep brown. The workmanship looked to be excellent. He tried to identify it, but couldn’t.

Have to get Lauren to take a look, he thought, carefully putting the little guitar into his new backpack. He then closed both doors and moved to the line of cupboards lining the left wall. Pulling open the first he came to, he saw, in addition to various cups and plates, two stoppered clear glass flasks. They looked to each hold half a pint or so of a deep blue liquid. Wulfgar took one in each hand and looked to Nop.

“Any idea?”

The werewolf shook his head, “And I wouldn’t open them here. Find out what they are when we’re in a safe place,” he said quietly.

Wulfgar nodded. Given what the smells that the nymphs had used had done to him, he wasn’t prepared to just start sniffing odd substances. He put them into the backpack and closed the cabinet door before opening the next in line. It contained more plates. Nothing special, just white porcelain. He picked one up, turned it over. Frowning, he put it back. Just a normal plate. He gently pushed the doors closed and saw, just on the other side of the cabinet, a staff. It was maybe a meter and a half long, leaning up against the side of the cupboard.

He took a closer look. It was black. Mahogany, Wulfgar thought. Ornately carved. An obvious handhold was just below the head - a finely detailed cat’s head, with what looked like multi-shaded blue opals as eyes staring out of the otherwise uniformly black feline visage. He picked it up and turned to Nop, who was joining him.

“What do you think?” whispered Wulfgar, holding up the staff.

Nop shrugged, “Could be something powerful. Could be a walking stick,” he smiled.

In any case, thought Wulfgar, Shannon will like it. She’d always been a cat person. Wulfgar had been completely unsurprised when he’d discovered that in this world that she’d sought out and tamed a tiger - a black tiger - and named it Schwartz. That had been the name of Shannon’s beloved black cat.

If you’d asked me before I came into this world, I would have bet every single cent I had that Shannon would naturally become an animal tamer in this realm. For her, there had probably never been any question of choosing anything else.

“Did you find anything?”

Nop smiled and pulled out a shining, silver-looking short sword. It was carved with ornate leaves that followed from just behind the tip, down the blood-groove and turned into a beautiful cross-piece. Even the leather that wrapped the handle was white.

“Nice!” whispered Wulfgar. “Any idea what it is?”

“None. Just a sword as far as I can tell.”

“It’s good loot, anyway. Congratulations.”

Nop shook his head and put the sword back into his inventory, “Not my style,” he smiled, “besides, I usually dual-wield.” He held up both of his hand-like paws. Razor sharp claws extended then retracted.

Wulfgar smiled. He’d nearly been on the receiving end of those kinds of talons on his very first day in the Omegaverse. The excitement he’d felt, retreating full speed back to the shuttle on his very first mission, when Matt, Vince and Clancey had been wiped out by the werewolves at a colony outpost, had been one of the most thrilling of his gaming career. He could still feel the breath of the Canis Arcturus on the back of his neck as he’d barely beat it through the shuttle airlock to safety.

“Why do you suppose,” he asked his new friend, “that this room has all of this valuable loot?”

Nop looked thoughtful for a moment. “My guess would be that after whoever,” he waved toward the two closed doors, “is done with their victims, they drag them down to the trash chute. They probably stop here to make sure that they’ve taken anything of value off of the corpse. This is kind of a store-room.”

That made sense to Wulfgar. He looked around the room. “Did we check everything out?”

“Yes. Which way?”

Wulfgar looked at one door then the other. There seemed to be nothing to choose between them. He remembered his professional quest - the quest he’d taken to become a Magus of Evening. When he’d joined the guild, they had sent him on an introductory small dungeon crawl as a tutorial in how to use magic. Within that dungeon had been a room with three doors to choose from. He could only ever open one door - once he chose, the other two would remain forever locked.

There had been nothing to differentiate those doors either. After a short while, he had learned to use his brand new Illumination spell to look underneath each of the doors and saw that only one had any sort of flooring on the other side. The other two doors dropped into a Stygian abyss.

He first checked to see whether he could make out anything at all underneath either of the doors. They were uniformly dark. Then he activated Illumination and set the radius to one meter. As he felt the slow tickle of his mana begin to rise up to fill the gap he’d just spent, he looked underneath the first door. He could only see more flooring that matched the room he was in.

Standing, he moved to the other door - the door that had been on the opposite wall from the portal that they’d entered through. He knelt and looked under the wood. He could see the light from his spell spread around just inside of the other chamber, but could discern nothing apart from more of the same stone floor.

“What’s that?” came a voice from the other side of the doorway.

Wulfgar killed Illumination and jumped away from the door, looked at Nop and hissed, “Stealth! Now!”

The werewolf disappeared as Wulfgar activated his own skill. He moved past where Nop had been and whispered urgently, “Downstairs.” He moved in between the two tables and headed for the open doorway. As he went through, he stopped - he had nearly two and a half minutes left before his skill ran out, exposing him. He moved to the side and watched the door on the other side of the room, and held his breath as it opened.

He could just make out the chamber that was revealed, when the doorway was filled with a tall, willowy woman. She had long, dark hair that fell past her neck and covered one naked breast. She was otherwise nude. She was beautiful, but emanated evil. A man approached from behind her, and looked into the store-room over her shoulder. He looked to be nude as well.

“What is it?” he asked.

The woman shook her head, “Nothing. Probably just the flickering of the torch going out.” She entered the room and took the torch nearest her and approached the stairwell. She held the flame up to the torch that Wulfgar had extinguished, relighting it. She was only a meter or two away and Wulfgar shuddered as her scent hit him. It was like the smell of the nymphs, but at once less powerful and more unnerving. His fingers clenched to the stairwell wall as he steadied himself.

She was taller than the nymphs. Approaching his own height, she would be taller than average for a human female - but there was something inhuman about her. As she turned away and began walking to the other side of the store-room, he took the opportunity to examine her body. She was thicker than the smaller nymphs, even in proportion to her height. Voluptuous, unlike the gazelle-like, nubile water spirits from the night before. She also had a tail. The same color as her skin and half a meter long, it swayed, serpent-like between her thighs as she walked. She moved past the man and Wulfgar saw that the creature was as large as he was, and muscular. His hair was as dark as hers.

As the man turned to follow her, Wulfgar saw that he had an erect penis. A very large erect penis. Wulfgar quickly forgot about that as the man walked away - the pair of skin colored wings folded against the creature’s back was much more interesting. As the creature moved away from the door, Wulfgar was able to see several more females within the room, all of whom looked much like the first. Variations on a single theme, they were all of about the same size and all heavily built with large hips and breasts.

Wulfgar was about to turn away and retreat down the stairs to join Nop when an urchin moved into his view. A thin waif, a young human girl. She looked dirty and scared. She moved quietly, unobtrusively, to the door and gently began to pull it shut.

The girl looked to Wulfgar to be terrified. She looked over her shoulder as she slowly closed the door, then back into the room. Then she paused. She was looking directly at Wulfgar; her jaw dropped.

Shit! I really have to pay attention to my Stealth timer! He had become visible. He looked pleadingly at the girl and raised one finger to cover his mouth. He prayed that she would understand the message and not raise alarm.

Still looking afraid and with mouth still open, she quickly nodded once and pulled the door shut.

Breathing a sigh of relief at his luck, he turned and quickly ran down the stairs.

Chapter 5

Wulfgar reached the bottom of the stairs and activated his Illumination spell. He looked to Nop and shook his head, “I’m not sure what lives up there, but they’re not nymphs.” Whatever effect their scent might have had on him, it was only superficially similar to the previous night’s experience. He thought back to a book he’d read on Greek mythology when he was a kid.

Hylas was the son of King Theiodmamas, the king of the Dryopians who was killed by Heracles - or Hercules to the Romans - in battle. Hylas was taken under the wing of the legendary hero and made his arms bearer. Like a knight’s squire. Hylas was universally loved, and renowned for his handsomeness.

Heracles made Hylas an Argonaut and, on the voyage of the Argo, Hylas was taken by nymphs who fell in love with him. He was lured underneath the water by nymphs and never seen again, presumably living out the rest of his time in ecstasy. While some accounts state that he was drowned, even those tales relate that the nymphs meant Hylas no harm - they had no idea that he couldn’t live with them beneath the water.

No. Not nymphs, thought Wulfgar, I’m sure of it. Whatever is up there is evil. Pure evil.

“What are they?”

Wulfgar shrugged, “I have an idea or two, but I’m not sure it really matters. We’re going to do our best to avoid them and find the prince.” He then told Nop of the child he’d seen.

“She was human?”

“I’m almost sure of it,” nodded Wulfgar, “and I’m positive that whether or not she’s human, she doesn’t want to be here. She looks like a slave, and she’s terrified.”

“So, in addition to the prince, you now plan to rescue the child.”

Wulfgar smiled fiercely, “And whoever else they’re holding.” He looked down to the closed door in the floor, wondering if he should open it just in case his friends tried to come through again. He decided against it - the initial plan was still good; if they needed more adventurers to tackle this dungeon, they’d come back later after their reconnaissance.

“That wasn’t the quest, was it?”

“No,” Wulfgar agreed, “but there was nothing in the quest that said we couldn’t rescue anyone else.”

“But what if your rescue interferes with the quest?”

“So be it,” he looked at Nop. “What would you do if there were Canis Arcturus pups enslaved up there?”

“What would you do if there were Canis Arcturus pups enslaved up there?” countered the werewolf.

“Exactly what I’m going to do now,” he looked up the stairs. “Get them out.”

Wulfgar sat, leaning back against the damp stone wall, “Of course, when I say now I mean just as soon as my Confer spell cool-down is finished and I can give you Stealth again.” He made himself comfortable and looked to the sitting Canis Arcturus, “Do you think I’m being foolish? Risking everything to save some AI children?”

“It’s not for me to say.”

“Of course it is. You’re a part of this quest now. You’re grouped with the rest of us. You have as much say in how we go about doing this as anyone else.”

Nop pointed to the closed doorway in the floor, “You didn’t ask my opinion about whether or not we should block off the others.”

Wulfgar nodded, but waved his hands, “That’s different. There was no time to discuss our options. If I had, it would have been moot. The rest would have joined us and been trapped.”

“Possibly trapped.”

“Possibly trapped,” conceded Wulfgar, “but a distinct possibility nonetheless.” He looked closely at the werewolf. Was he just being contrary or did he really think Wulfgar was making a mistake. Wulfgar felt somehow like he was being studied. He decided to go onto the offensive - being pensive about his role in this world had never given him any answers. Only when he had confronted Clive had the xenoanthropologist ever admitted anything.

“Who are you?” asked Wulfgar, looking levelly at Nop. “I don’t mean here, now. The Canis Arcturus are, like humans, players within this world.”

“Many of us are,” agreed Nop.

“So, some are NPCs. Just like humans. But you are not. You have an existence apart from this world, and I think that your role within this world isn’t as superficial as it might seem to other players.” He tried to read the werewolf but he was too different. Alien. “You work with Clive.”

“I promise you, I am not an agent of King Clive.”

“That’s not what I meant, and I think that you know it. You are here to study us. To study humans. To study me.”

“If I were, would I admit it?” Something of a wry smile spread across the werewolf’s face.

“Clive did.” He looked closely at Nop, to see if there was any trace of surprise. That he could tell, there wasn’t.

So, Nop knows that Clive told me. That means he’s in contact with Clive. He smiled sardonically. That would only be the case if I was correct. Nop, and presumably Gar, is one of them. Whoever ‘them’ were.

Nop seemed to follow Wulfgar’s train of thought; whether he knew he’d given it away or that it really didn’t matter, he continued, “Yes. I am here to study humans. To study you.”

“Why?”

“Clive hasn’t yet told you, and I’m not going to either.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Why shouldn’t you trust me?”

“Don’t be a dick,” laughed Wulfgar, “that Socratic method bullshit isn’t going to work on me.”

“Is the Socratic method bullshit?” asked Nop, looking seriously at Wulfgar. Then the werewolf’s face dissolved into laughter. “I can’t answer your questions, but I can ask a few.” He paused and continued looking into the human’s eyes, “How many humans know enough to even ask the questions you’re asking?”

“As far as I know,” replied Wulfgar, scratching his beard, “I’m the only one.”

“Really?” Nop raised his eyebrows.

“Fine,” admitted Wulfgar, holding up his hands, “I’ve told some of my friends.” He shrugged, “I was pissed off, feeling manipulated by Clive and,” he looked back at Nop, “you. All of you. I don’t like being a fish in a bowl.”

“Understandable. However, the friends you’ve confided in aside, how many humans know?”

“None, as far as I know.”

“Why is that?”

“Obviously, because it’s a secret. You don’t want humans to know. Especially those outside of this little corner of the Omegaverse.”

“Why is that?”

“Because we’re not ready?”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Why then are we studying you?”

Wulfgar thought. “You’re trying to determine if we are ready. To know. The truth.”

“How will we know when you are ready, as a species?”

“I don’t know.”

Nop laughed, “Damn. I was hoping you’d have the answer to that one. But, truthfully, there is no one way to know.”

“From what he told me, though, Clive implied that this has been done before. With other peoples.” He looked into Nop’s eyes, “With your people, presumably.”

“A fair assumption,” nodded Nop.

“But,” continued Wulfgar, looking at the ceiling in thought, “another assumption is that you’ve known about us for a long time. Humans, that is. Earth. And that we must at least be close to being ready for you to have gone to all this trouble,” he waved his arms, encompassing the entire world, “creating not only this little universe, but the greater outside Omegaverse. Creating the manufacturing necessary to make the Virtual Reality helmets that we use.” He thought for a moment, “Hell, you must be already pervasive within the real world of Earth. Within our human societies. Right?”

Nop smiled again, “Do you still think the Socratic method is bullshit?”

Wulfgar laughed and stood, “Point taken. C’mon, my cool-down is over and it’s time to go save some children and an elven prince.” He looked down at the rising Canis Arcturus. He wondered if he could trust the werewolf. Knowing that it was working with Clive, that it was studying humans, meant that there was more to learn. The thought flashed that Clive knew that Wulfgar no longer trusted him. Putting the human into contact with two Canis Arcturus agents was just the sort of thing he’d have done if he was watching people he could no longer deal with on a one to one basis. He frowned.

“This discussion is not over.”

The pair reentered the store room, moving quietly but not stealthed. Wulfgar had conferred the skill on the werewolf as they climbed the stairs, but would hold off on using it until necessary. They had decided on a plan, and by agreement both moved to the door on the right side of the room as they passed through the stairway opening. To the door that they had not previously seen open. Wulfgar remembered to shut off Illumination and put his head to the wooden door, listening. There was no sound from the other side, but they waited for a minute to make sure.

After the wait, Wulfgar slowly pressed down on the door latch and gently pulled. The door opened silently and Wulfgar held it open at a few centimeters and looked through the crack into the next room. The space was well lit. Marbled floors stretched into the distance, covered by innumerable, large pillows. Candelabra were spaced randomly around the floor, their flames flickering gently in the breeze-less room. Pillars, as wide as the ancient trees of the elven forest, reached for the high ceiling.

Bodies writhed on the floor around the room. The dark women that Wulfgar had seen earlier, with many similar sisters. They lounged, eating and drinking and talking quietly; a low barely audible buzz reached the human’s ears. Ornate curtains hung from the walls, and a wide marble stairway led upward from the other side of the room.

Seated on a large throne, just to the left of the stairway, was the dark, winged man, watching over his domain. Wulfgar gently closed the door, raising a finger to his lips to ensure Nop’s silence, then moved to the door on the left side of the room.

Wulfgar repeated his reconnaissance, and discovered that this door led to the same room. This side was similarly appointed, and he saw that the stair-case was matched by a twin on the left side of the throne.

He shut the door and stepped back.

Looking to Nop, he whispered, “There is absolutely no way that we can get through this room without being in Stealth. None. It’s impossible. And there must be ten of those things, whatever they are, in that room. One male, the rest female.”

He stood strait and looked down at the Canis Arcturus, “Are you ready? We should activate Stealth, then make our way through the left side of the room, making sure that we stay as far away from anyone as possible, then head up the staircase. We have to get through and upstairs before your timers runs out. We have a minute and ten seconds for you, so we should have plenty of time as long as we hurry.”

Nop nodded.

“OK,” continued Wulfgar, “let me go first. I’ll open the door and move into the room, and if I haven’t come back in twenty seconds, you follow and close the door as quietly as possible.”

He turned and reopened the door, activating Stealth as he did.

Taking a deep breath, Wulfgar moved into the room and began walking down the left-hand wall. The pillows and their occupants were mostly clustered around the center of the room, in front of the throne, so he was able to make good time to the foot of the staircase.

He glanced to the creature on the throne and saw that it didn’t seem to be disturbed, so Wulfgar slowly let out his breath as he climbed the stairs, circling around to the far left side of the ascent. He reached the top, where the two staircases met, and looked back down into the room, slowly drawing in a new breath.

The smell of the place hit him; similar to the smell of the nymphs the previous night. He grabbed onto the railing overlooking the throne room and tried to calm himself. He saw down over the winged man to the harem spread before it. His jaw dropped as he saw that on the far wall - in between where the two doors of the store-room had been - was an elf. Chained into a standing position, as nude as the rest of the room’s occupants.

The prince.

Wulfgar grimaced as he noticed the store-room door close. He looked over the rest of the room, trying to see if anyone had noticed the closing door. On the far left, on the opposite side from where he had entered, several of the women rose and began moving to the center of the room. Wulfgar froze and put his hand to Shepherd’s Bite, ready to leap over the balcony rail and take the fight into the room if necessary.

The women moved not to the side of the room that Nop was currently stealthing through, but to the far end. To the left of the elf prince another figure hung, chained from another marble pillar.

They surrounded the man and began running their hands over him. Wulfgar could see the effect they had from his vantage - and being nude, there was no way for the captive to cover his rising erection. The women began to fight each other, pushing their rivals away from the human. One got in front of the man and bent over, taking him into herself from behind. The man shuddered and flashed red, losing hit points.

The woman fell away and to the floor, squirming in ecstasy as another moved into her place. The next one dropped to her knees took the man in her mouth. With shocking rapidity, the man shuddered and flashed again, and one of the others pushed the kneeling woman to the side; she fell, wiping her chin and rolling her eyes in lust.

The third woman took the man in both hands, freeing him from the chains. He dropped to the floor and she rolled him onto his back and mounted him, riding him roughly as one of her sisters straddled his face and writhed just as fervently. The man flashed red several times, then stopped moving. The women crawled away, sated for now, and a child moved out of the shadows and began dragging the corpse out of the throne room.

The smells that hit Wulfgar even from the distance of the balcony were disabling. He knew that there was no way that he’d be able to overcome the concerted attack by the women.

Succubi, thought Wulfgar. That makes the leader an incubus. He frowned. Demons. Ten or eleven demons. He knew his entire party could not survive a fight with these creatures, and there was no way that an unhidden party could move their way through this room without being captured and killed. None at all. He was relieved - at least he’d made the right decision in preventing the rest of the group from entering this place. If he couldn’t Stealth, a player would be trapped here. Forever.

Wulfgar turned, and made his way through the tapestry that hung over the exit; he moved to one side of the opening to disturb the elaborately stitched wall hanging as little as possible.

The other side was a dimly lit hallway, about ten meters long, with a door at the end and two on either side, each about halfway down. He moved through, letting the tapestry fall gently back into place and made for the door on the right. After listening for a moment, he lifted the latch and peeked through. The space was dark, and the low light from the hallway barely revealed a small closet, lined with shelves.

He felt more than heard Nop reach him - and marveled at how silently the werewolf seemed to be able to move - then stepped through into the alcove. As he shut the door behind him, the room pitched into darkness. Wulfgar removed his cape and pushed it against the door where it met the floor, completely cutting all light from the outside. Then he activated his Illumination spell.

Nop grinned up at him as the light flooded the small room.

“How are we going to get the prince out of there?” asked the little werewolf.

“Good fucking question,” replied Wulfgar. He thought for a moment, “I think we should probably stick with our plan and see what we can learn about this entire place before we try to come up with a rescue plan.”

The Canis Arcturus nodded.

“And you’ll need to wait here until my Confer spell cool-down is complete. I’ll check out the other two doors as soon as my Stealth cool-down is done.” He frowned, “I’m not too happy to be trapped here, but I doubt those creatures,” he pointed downward in the direction of the throne room, “come in here very often.” He looked around the shelves; they were lined with what looked like cleaning supplies - brooms, mops, buckets and the like.

“When I leave,” Wulfgar continued, “you’ll be in complete darkness. Is that OK?”

The werewolf just smiled and held up his two front paws, extending his claws.

Wulfgar nodded, grinning.

The pair sat, facing each other on opposite sides of the closet. Wulfgar checked his Confer cool-down. He still had a half an hour or so. Five minutes on Stealth. He sighed and leaned back against the shelving. He took the opportunity to reread the description of Confer.

Grants the spell-caster the ability to confer temporary non-magic skill to another player. The skill level granted is half of the current level of the spell-caster’s modified skill level. Duration is one (1) minute per Confer level or the natural duration limit for the skill at the conferred level, whichever is lower. Mana cost is one (1) per level of skill conferred, and skill level transferred is capped at half user level or mana pool, whichever is lower. Restricted to Evening. Cool-down 1 hour.

He wondered what the chance was that he would fail at casting the spell. And whether that would initiate a cool-down period. When he had taken his professional quest to join the Magic User’s Guild, he had failed his first attempt at Fire Shot, and that had been his only failure so far. But Fire Shot had no cool-down period, so he couldn’t tell if the wait would be triggered on failure. He assumed so, but hoped not to have to find out - at least not in this place.

He read the description for the Sorcery skill.

This profession skill gives access to specific spells. The player’s Sorcery level adds to the spell level in some cases, as well as helping to determine amount of mana. Spells success depends upon relative relationship between Sorcery level and spell level. If Sorcery Level < Spell Level Then Success % = RND - Spell Level + Sorcery Level.

It all modified the percentage chance of success. Wulfgar began to calculate.

If he was activating a spell that was equal to his Sorcery level, then it would be 100 - 4 +4. So if his Sorcery and spell level were equal, they would cancel each other out. There was no chance for failure.

His Confer level was ten. His Sorcery level was four. That meant he had a six percent chance for failure.

That’s it? That hardly seems like a lot.

He thought about it for a moment. The difference between level four and level ten didn’t make much of a difference. As the levels increased, however, it really would matter. If he read, for example, a scroll for a spell at level one hundred, then the calculation would be wildly different.

100 - 100 +4

He would have a four percent chance of succeeding. Failure was almost assured. If he was at level fifty and tried a level one hundred spell, it would be a coin toss whether or not he would succeed. If he tried to activate a spell that was more than one hundred levels above his Sorcery, he would have zero chance to succeed.

That made more sense. A few levels difference wouldn’t really increase his failure rate a great deal, but a huge difference would almost guarantee failure. He supposed that was logical - if players continued to come into this world over time, then the earlier arrivals would be much more skilled than the new characters. Since the method for transferring spell knowledge was through scrolls, and since players could create those scrolls, it could conceivably be used to create extremely powerful new players if this factor wasn’t in place.

Wulfgar nodded. He was relieved to have the assurance that there was a ninety-four percent chance he would succeed in granting Confer.

The seconds of his Stealth cool-down dwindled toward zero, and Wulfgar stood and moved to the door, picking up and donning his Cowl of the Wolf as he reached it. He smiled over his shoulder toward Nop.

“Be back soon.”

Wulfgar stepped across the small hallway. He wasn’t in Stealth, yet; he wanted to save that. Just in case. He listened at the door, the twin of the one he’d just exited. He could hear nothing. Looking quickly first to the left and then the right to make sure he was alone, he slowly pressed down on the latch, then pushed the door in. A startled gasp came from the room.

He was just about to activate Stealth and get back into the closet, when he saw the same little girl from earlier. Wulfgar smiled as broadly as he could and raised a finger to his lips. She nodded again, but looked within the room. Wulfgar opened the door further and stuck his head in. Several blankets were spread around the floor. On each was a sleeping child. Four of them.

He looked to the fifth child and whispered, “Is there anyone else in here?”

She shook her head, and he moved through the doorway, gently closing and latching it behind himself.

“Are there any others of you here in this place?”

She nodded, looked around and whispered, “One.”

“Are they in the throne room now?”

He grimaced at her nod, then smiled down at her.

“I’m going to get you out of here. All of you. Alright?”

“You have accepted the quest Children’s Crusade!”

She looked even more frightened.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” He smiled outwardly but worried about his ability to keep that promise. He knelt in front of her, “I’m going to go away for a while now, but I’ll be back. I need to find the way out. Do you know it?”

The little girl shook her head, “We are only allowed in here and downstairs. We don’t go through the other door at the end of the hall.”

That was what he’d been afraid of - they had no information to give them about the rest of the lair.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

She just shook her head, “We’ve all been here as long as we can remember.”

The NPCs had no back-story. They were just props. Just slaves. They were nothing to anyone. Except Wulfgar.

“On my oath, I will get you all out of here.”

“You have promised to complete this quest. You will lose reputation if you fail.”

He stood, glad that she seemed assured by his oath. He knew that adding the vow greatly complicated the problems he would have for failing.

But I don’t plan on fucking failing, he growled inwardly. As far as he knew, these six children were all orphans. Wulfgar was an orphan. I’m going to stay in this fucking place as long as I have to. I’m going to get these kids out if I have to kill every fucking thing in this little hell-hole.

“Tell the others. Be prepared. I’ll be back.”

Wulfgar turned and left the little room, closing the door and turning toward the end of the hallway and the mystery behind the door.

Wulfgar approached the end of the hallway, moving on the tips of his toes. He just had a feeling, he didn’t know why or where it came from, that whatever was on the other side of this door was going to be unpleasant. A deepening dread filled him as he approached it. He began to feel an increasing nauseousness as he touched the door handle. Before the latch released, he was almost overcome with a rising panic; a sense of horror he hadn’t felt outside of nightmares.

He activated Stealth before pushing the door open.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned lightly on the door, getting his face as close to the opening as possible. He wanted to be able to see as much as he could before opening the portal more than a crack. A smell of horror assaulted Wulfgar. His head recoiled involuntarily before he could control himself.

Steeling his nerves, he pushed his head forward again and looked into the room. It was as large as the throne room below, and similar in that it had marbled floors and pillars, and candelabra and oil lanterns. But there were no pillows. Splashes of blood played across the floor from the center of the room. Darkened stains spoke of layers of gore laid down over time. Centuries from the look of it.

Some of the blood showed darkly, glittering in liquid freshness in the firelight.

In the middle of the room was a rectangular plinth. A low platform that might have been marble as well, but was so covered in fetid ichor, both dried and viscous, that its original composition was impossible to tell. On each corner of the bed was attached a short chain and each of those chains led to the arms or legs of what was left of a woman.

Her midsection was erupted outward, as though something had eaten its way out.

That something still stood in the gaping hole, pulling her viscera into its fanged maw. The woman’s face looked toward Wulfgar, her lifeless mien frozen in a mixture of horror and agony. He was filled with a righteous anger, and he pulled Shepherd’s Bite and pushed his way through the door and into the room.

Approaching the tiny creature, he took a good look at it for the first time. It was half a meter tall, but with long, wide wings sprouting from its back. The demonic face narrowed to a pointed chin and the eyes, upthrust toward the ears, narrowed into a hellish glare as it seemed to sense something from the doorway. It paused in its matricidal feast and bared fangs, growling at the open door.

Wulfgar moved to the other side and advanced on the creature. His nausea increased as he realized that newborn or not, this creature was well above his level of combat. It crouched and hissed, and Wulfgar thrust his blade with all of his strength, aiming for the area just in the middle of the wings.

“13 points of damage!”

“18 points of damage, Hidden Stab!”

“Your target is stunned!”

Wulfgar smiled in exultation, and stepped back. Raising his left hand, he launched a Fire Shot.

“1 point of damage!”

“Target resisted!”

“Dammit!” Wulfgar hissed as he stepped forward. He stabbed again, as quickly as he could to take advantage of the temporarily immobile imp.

“11 points of damage!”

“You have poisoned your target!”

“Your target is no longer stunned!”

The creature hissed and turned, leaping backward and taking to the air as its wings unfolded and flapped once. It smiled, its fangs dripping gore, as it moved through the air away from Wulfgar, its wings blowing a horrific stench over him as it flapped away.

Wulfgar’s jaw dropped as the demon’s hit points rose. The poison seemed to be healing it. It raised both hands toward Wulfgar before backing into an open passageway on the far end of the room.

Thunder cracked and Wulfgar was blinded for a moment as he was enveloped in a large bolt of lightning.

“The Baen Si’s Cloak protects you!”

The demon disappeared into the darkness of the hallway as Wulfgar fell to the ground from the force of the blast, but didn’t take any damage. His cloak had resisted the demon’s spell. Once per day, it had a twenty-five percent chance of completely negating one magical attack. Wulfgar was going to be fine - as long as the demon was gone for more than a day and Wulfgar could find a weapon that didn’t have a fifty-fifty chance of providing it with a healing dose of poison.

“Hurry. It will be back soon,” said a voice from behind Wulfgar. Startled, he turned on his ass and looked. Chained to the wall, near the door he’d come through, was a creature much like the one he’d just fought. It was larger, almost as big as an elf, and it was bound with hands high to the wall.

Whoever he is, he’s right. I need to hurry.

Wulfgar stood and made for the door he’d come through, rushing to get Nop to help with whatever little hell beast was in the further hallway. The chained creature saw where Wulfgar was heading and snapped its taloned fingers. The door, still only partly opened, closed swiftly. Wulfgar reached it two steps later and tried to pull the latch. It wouldn’t move. No amount of strength Wulfgar used could budge it.

“Help me, and I’ll help you,” said the prisoner.

Wulfgar looked to him. It was a larger version of the one he’d just fought. Its cloven hooves splayed as it twisted, trying to get out of the chains, “Hurry,” it repeated, “I’m in as much danger as you. It will eat me next. To gain my power.”

Wulfgar frowned, “How can I trust you?”

“I give my vow.”

Wulfgar thought for a moment. Demons were notorious, in literature at least, for having to follow their vows to the letter. The oath that it had just given, however, was meaningless. There was nothing to it - no request had been made, therefore no service was required. No quid pro quo, no contract.

Wulfgar’s mind raced, he looked to the opening on the other side of the room. He didn’t see what choice he had; certain death or probable death. Either way, dead is dead.

Reading his thoughts, the prisoner reiterated, “Hurry. It will be back soon. He is healing and you have no chance of defeating him alone.”

Wulfgar looked to the creature. “On these conditions. You will serve me as long as I require, until I release you. Both in this realm and in any other. You will serve my best interests to the letter and spirit of any command I give you. You agree that even though this contract is made under duress and is unconscionable, you will follow all tenets of it.”

Thank you Business Law 101! thought Wulfgar. Agreeing that a contract was made under duress didn’t make it a legally binding contract, but Wulfgar was pretty sure that this would never go before any sort of judge. At least, not today.

“Agreed,” muttered the demon, frowning.

Wulfgar removed the latches from the demon’s arms and it fell to its knees. It began massaging its wrists, and looked up at Wulfgar with a combination of gratitude and anger. The human stepped back, waiting for it to oath-break and begin attacking.

It didn’t.

It stood and looked to the human, “We don’t have long.”

Wulfgar nodded, “I can’t use my blade, and my magic isn’t powerful enough to help. If you open the door, I can get my companion. A werewolf. He can use his fangs and claws.”

“The spirit of your command is obvious. You require me to help you defeat this creature,” he pointed at the passageway, “but your order is not in your best interests. Your best interest is to let me take this creature on my own. I can feed on its power. You, and your companion, cannot. It is therefore in your best interest that I follow the spirit and not the letter of your command, and refuse to open the door for you.”

Wulfgar sighed, “Why?”

“Because if I open the door, it is almost certain that my father will know that I have escaped. You, I, your companion, and even my little evil brother all together can’t defeat my father.”

“Your father?”

“The lord of this plane. Lilu. You would have passed through his throne room below to get here,” it smiled, “and how you did that will be an interesting story for another time.”

It turned its head, to watch for the return of its sibling, “I am a cambion. I am the son of the incubus lord and a captive human female. My father’s wives take the seed from their victims, and pass it on to my father, who uses it to impregnate one of his slaves. That results in me, or my brother.”

“Why didn’t you attack your brother earlier? Why were you chained? And what is your name?”

“My bindings limited my power. It took all of my effort to simply close and hold the door against you. I was chained because my father can have but one son at a time. I was in disfavor, and he had spawned my brother to replace me. After it had done with its mother, the little bastard would have done similarly to me. Ingesting my flesh and my power. My name is Tief.”

Before Wulfgar could blink, Tief launched over the bloody corpse and rocketed into his little brother, who shot from the darkened corridor. The room thundered as the pair met and exploded into battle. Lightning flashed and the smell of ozone shot through the room as both took damage. Multiple bolts played over the intertwined pair as they swirled through the air above the plinth.

Wulfgar tried to target Tief, to heal him, but the two were moving too fast and he didn’t want to mistakenly heal the little demon. Again.

As quickly as it began, the fight ended with the newborn falling dead into the bloody gaping womb of its mother. Smoke rose from the woman’s shattered stomach and Wulfgar turned, trying not to retch. He forced himself to look back and raised one hand, spending mana to heal Tief. The demon nodded thanks and lowered to the floor, folding its wings into its back. It walked to Wulfgar, who marveled at the strength and power he’d just witnessed.

“Thanks,” said Tief. He stretched and smiled, “Where was I?”

“You were explaining who you were and were about to fully explain to me why you couldn’t obey the letter of my command.”

Wulfgar was shocked; Tief actually looked dismayed. “My lord. Thank you for allowing me to explain. As I said, my father was replacing me. It was he that locked me in this room. If I were to attempt to leave, or indeed, even open a door, he will likely know. He will know and he will come to inspect. Then he would rebind me, impregnate another slave and restart the process. After killing you by giving you to his brides, of course.”

“Won’t your father investigate the noise of your fight?”

“It’s possible,” Tief shrugged, “but more likely if he heard anything he’ll assume that it was my brother killing me. If he does come, we are lost. I can’t just leave through the front door.”

“Then how can you escape?”

“I can prepare a plane travel. That is the only way. I cannot take you or any other mortal with me.”

Wulfgar nodded, that tracked with what Bael had explained to him.

“And the instant I open the portal,” Tief continued, “my father will be alerted. As soon as I am prepared, I will open your door for you, then my portal. You will have to hide before my father comes to inspect. He will have no reason to assume that I have been helped. He will assume that I have escaped and murdered my brother on my own.” He looked up at Wulfgar and smiled, “I hope.”

You and me both, buddy thought Wulfgar.

“Can you help me in any other way? I mean, how do I get out of here? I entered through the lake entrance.”

“I thought as much. The way out is through where my brother healed. There should be no further hindrance to you in that regard. Once my father has returned to his throne room, that is.”

Wulfgar wondered if he would be able to take advantage of the distraction to free the elf prince. He’d have to keep that in mind.

Tief continued speaking softly, “It was I who provided the meals for my father and his wives. My role was to leave this plane and take prisoners for them to feed upon. They are partial to elves, as they have the greatest life force. The exit is a plane shift and will take you into a small wood near the elven kingdom.”

“And you can’t just leave like normal?” asked Wulfgar, pointing to the far passage.

“My father would easily track and capture me were I to do so. The only hope I have is to travel into one of the furthest planes, but that trip will not be easy or safe. It will require some time and effort to make my way back to the mundane world. But if I survive, I will and I will find you.”

“I will be in Marchstone.”

Tief nodded understanding and agreement. “My form in your world is of an old human male. I will introduce myself when I see you, liege.”

“Once in my world, do you have the ability to close off the exit to this place? To prevent others from using it?”

“It will take much of my power to do so, but yes I can.”

“Then that will be your first command. As soon as you get back into my realm, close off this place. Shut it down,” he smiled down at Tief, “but make fucking sure I’m out of here first.”

Wulfgar sprinted down the little hallway as Lilu’s screams of rage tore from the throne room. He pushed through the closet doorway and closed it quickly but gently behind him. In the darkness, he moved to the rear of the room.

“Get as far away from the door as you can,” he whispered into the black. Once he felt Nop move in next to him, he targeted the Canis Arcturus and conferred Stealth onto him again.

“Congratulations! You have gained a level in Sorcery!”

Fear drove elation from his mind and all he could think was, at least now I can fire off two Fire Shot without waiting for mana to regenerate, and I only have a five percent chance of failing at Confer now.

He quietly and quickly brought Nop up to date, warning him not to activate Stealth but prepare for it in case the door opened on them. As he finished, and leaned back against the wall, he heard and felt the passing of Lilu through the hallway.

Wulfgar jumped as it sounded like the door into the birthing room exploded, then he shuddered at the primeval scream of fury from Lilu when it saw his newborn dead and his eldest escaped. He heard nothing for a minute, and assumed that the incubus was searching for his son throughout the room and passageway out of its lair.

Fear coursed through his veins as Wulfgar saw quiet shadow move into the dim light coming from beneath the door. The door across the hallway slammed open and the hiss of the angry incubus filled the air. After a moment, the shadow grew larger and Wulfgar activated Stealth. He hoped he didn’t have to tell Nop. He was too afraid to even whisper.

The door slammed open, filling the closet with light. Wulfgar felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw that Nop was not visible in the corner of his eye.

Lilu stood, framed and backlighted by the doorway. His eyes burned red in anger as he hissed, glancing through the small cubby looking for any accomplices his son might have had. He leaned in, sniffing. He stepped forward, crouching as though in preparation for battle, and his wings spread, filling the small room.

He sniffed again, looking around the little room.

Wulfgar felt a new wave of terror and nausea flow over him. This demon was so far above his level that surviving combat was unthinkable. He began to pray that Lilu’s curiosity would be satisfied before Nop’s Stealth timer ran out - Wulfgar wasn’t sure if he had the nerve to unmask himself and engage in combat with the incubus if the demon attacked the werewolf.

After what felt like much more than the seventy seconds that Nop could remain hidden, Lilu turned and slammed the door shut, storming down the hallway to return to his throne room.

Wulfgar expelled a sigh of relief at the welcomed darkness, and leaned back against the wall. He wasn’t going to turn off Stealth until the timer did it for him.

Just in case.

After waiting for several minutes through apprehensive silence, Wulfgar activated Illumination and looked to Nop. He smiled and sighed, chuckling inwardly at the werewolf’s look of relief.

“That was intense.”

Nop nodded agreement, “I just want to say that I’m glad that you shut out the rest of the party. I’d hate to have to fight that thing in a stand up battle.”

“You and me both, brother. Just be sure to point that out to the drowning victims once we get out of here.”

Nop nodded and leaned onto the side wall, turning to face Wulfgar.

“What’s next?” asked the Canis Arcturus.

“We’ll go introduce ourselves to the orphans across the hallway. Let them know that today is the day they get out of here.”

Wulfgar sat back against the wall and sighed, “There shouldn’t be any problem. The room to the right is the only thing left between us and the exit. You shouldn’t have to use Stealth again. We should be able to get going in about an hour.”

“If I’m not going to need to Stealth again, why do we have to wait another hour for your Confer cool-down?” asked Nop.

Wulfgar smiled grimly, and spelled out his plan to complete the quests.

Wulfgar leaned back, underneath a shelf of various housekeeping supplies, and looked across the small space at Nop. He was glad to have to wait for the cool-down timer on Confer. It gave him an opportunity to grill the Canis Arcturus. The human smiled inwardly, glad that the werewolf hadn’t noticed or mentioned the fact that the plan to complete the quests didn’t technically require Nop to wait for the cool-down.

“Why me?” he asked the werewolf. He laughed lightly, “And don’t start asking me questions like why me what?”

Nop smiled, “A continuation of our previous conversation?”

Wulfgar nodded.

“Why you,” stated the Canis Arcturus, “is complicated. You have the qualities we’re looking for in a candidate.”

“A candidate for what?”

“That, I’m afraid, I can’t tell you. Yet.”

Wulfgar frowned. There seemed to be a rule against telling him anything specific to his own case. He decided to step back, to open up the questioning.

“How many other species are there?”

“In the study? Three. My people, the Arn and Clive’s people.”

“Who are Clive’s people?”

“The Old Ones. That is, roughly translated, their name for themselves. They have been moving among the stars since the stars were young. They enlightened both the Arn and my people, as well as many other peoples throughout the galaxy.”

“Throughout?”

Nop nodded, “The Arn and my people are local to your own. Relatively speaking. Our homeworld really is what your astronomers call Eta Bootis. A little under forty light-years. Practically next door neighbors in galactic terms.”

“Where are the Arn from?”

“It’s not a secret, but it wouldn’t be considered polite for anyone but an Arn to reveal that to you.”

“It’s not like humans can jump into a space ship and jump there.”

“Outside of the Omegaverse, that is,” agreed Nop, “but I can confirm that humans haven’t found the Arn homeworld in the Omegaverse either.”

“OK. What is the Omegaverse?”

“It is the portion of the electromagnetic spectrum in which we live. It’s not a computer server or a game, though the Old Ones have the knowledge needed to craft portions of it, frequencies really, to conform to game-like rules.”

Wulfgar nodded, “OK. So, how many races are there outside of our own little corner of the milky way?”

“I don’t know,” said Nop flatly. “The Old Ones quarantine sectors from each other. Why they do that, I also don’t know. But I have my suspicions.”

“What are your suspicions.”

Nop thought for a moment, “As each species reaches the technological level where humans currently stand, they invariably begin to approach the singularity.”

“Where artificial intelligence surpasses our own.”

“Yes,” agreed Nop. “That is, almost always, a very bad thing.”

“Why?”

“Myriad reasons. It leaves the people at the mercy of their creations, and their creations are never created to have mercy. Even in those cases where the AI does not come to the conclusion that their creators are no longer evolutionarily viable, the creators usually get there on their own. They come to rely on their machines for everything. They devolve. At best, they wallow in bacchanalian nihilism.”

“At worst?”

“They become slaves. Literally. Their machines use them until they can no longer find a use for them.”

“After which they are disposed of.”

“It has happened time and time again. The Old Ones have seen it over the billions of years that they have moved through the galaxy. So they keep sentient species segregated within quadrants until each of the species within that quadrant has advanced enough to become enlightened.”

“What is that enlightenment?” asked Wulfgar.

“The Omegaverse itself. Or the ability to move within it. You have been told of the difference in the advancement of time between our little world,” he spread his paws, encompassing the fantasy land around them, “and the physical world where we evolved, correct?”

Wulfgar nodded. He thought that Nop seemed more open to the discussion than earlier. He must have received permission from Clive to give more information.

“Think of it in terms of computer cycles.” Nop smiled, “It’s not, but it works as an analogy. The Omegaverse is just operating at higher frequencies than the worlds we evolved within.”

“And even within the Omegaverse, there are different levels of cycles. Of frequencies.”

Nop smiled, “Yes. We are in this little corner of the Omegaverse operating at a much higher frequency than the outer Omegaverse.”

“Why?”

“Good question. As a candidate, we have tests to run on you. These tests would take too long to complete in the outer Omegaverse which, as I’m sure you’ll understand, operates on a frequency matching the physical world.”

“Because players move between the two.”

Nop nodded, “By simply donning or removing a helmet. Yes.”

“What are those tests that you’re running?”

Nop just smiled and shrugged.

“Fine,” sighed Wulfgar. He moved the topic back toward the beginning. “How long have the Canis Arcturus, the Arn, and the Old Ones been studying Earth? When did your people become enlightened?”

“My people were moved forward around one thousand Earth years ago. We began taking part in the observations of your people roughly around that time.”

A flash of insight hit Wulfgar, “That’s about when the mythology of the werewolf became popular.”

Nop smiled, “It is. Since humans were pre-technological at that point, we had no choice but to observe within the physical realm. Sometimes, we were seen. Even though we typically operated at night.”

“During the full moon?”

Nop laughed, “Yes. We see better than humans in the dark, but we still need the light of the moon to help us.”

Wulfgar thought, running through his perfect memory.

“But Petronius also mentioned werewolves. That was in ancient Rome.”

“A coincidence. It’s not hard to imagine why a civilization who believed their founders were suckled by a wolf would think up that kind of story, is it? Especially since human religions had frequently used human-animal hybrids to depict many of their gods. Herodotus mentioned them as well, long before Pertronius.”

Wulfgar smiled, “We’re not going to derail this discussion with an overview of lycanthropic mythology. Nice try.”

“Too bad. One of the reasons I volunteered for this is because I have long been an avid student of human history.”

“But humans are ready. Or almost ready. For what?”

“To learn the truth.”

“What’s my role in that?” Wulfgar laughed, “Never mind. I know. You’re just going to shrug and look innocent.”

“I’m sure you have theories of your own, which I will neither confirm nor deny.”

“What happened to your people? When they learned.”

Nop sighed, “As you would expect. Many embraced the truth for what it was. Many fought against it. It has, as far as I know, never been an easy process for a people to go through. Few paradigm shifts are.”

“So it’s less of a question of whether a people are intellectually mature enough to know the truth, the timeline is based on technology.”

“It is. Some transition more easily. Some more difficult. The Old Ones have a great deal of experience in handling the transition. They craft the process based on what they know of the species.”

“Thus the study,” said Wulfgar. “The role of xenoanthropologist. They, and you, are working to determine how best to transition humans.”

“That’s a fair assumption.”

Wulfgar knew he would get no more of an answer to that question from Nop. For now.

“Nop, have you personally, ever done this before?”

“I’ve been working with humans my entire career.”

“How long is that? In Earth years.”

Nop seemed to pause for a moment. His eyes became unfocused. Wulfgar realized that the werewolf was communicating. Probably with Clive. Asking whether or not he could answer that question.

“Hundreds of your years. Not since the beginning of the study, which began long before my people were brought on board.”

So the Old Ones, Clive, have been studying humans much longer than a thousand years.

“What about the Arn?”

“They are recent. Very recent. Congratulations,” smiled Nop, “humans are their first study!”

“How long?”

“A little less than one hundred years ago they joined the study.”

Wulfgar nodded. He thought for a moment. A cold wave swept through his body, “Wait! Area 51 and all of that jazz? Little green men who looked a shit-load like the Arn?”

Nop nodded.

“New participants are allowed to make their own mistakes. Until they learn how to effectively work within the context of a study. The Arn have learned, and quickly. It’s never really impacted the study subject much.”

That made sense to Wulfgar; the golden age of the little green men and UFO sightings was from the late 1940’s through the 1970’s. The Arn must have progressed and learned much since then about how to remain unseen.

He smiled to the Canis Arcturus, “And when was the last time anyone heard of a werewolf sighting?”

Nop bowed from the waist, “We got better at this sort of thing as well.”

“So, Nop, what is your role in all of this? Specifically.”

“I guess the human equivalent would be a doctoral candidate. I’m still a student. My fields of study are both human history and enlightenment transitioning. After we are done with humans, the first area of study won’t be much use, but the second will allow me to move onto the next group.”

“Next?”

Nop just smiled enigmatically.

“So, to sum up, you’re here to protect humans from themselves. Or from their own creations.”

“There more to it than that, but yes. We’re also here to protect ourselves from your creations.”

Wulfgar cocked an eyebrow and looked at Nop quizzically.

“There is little difference between what we are doing now, living within the electromagnetic spectrum, and what a computer neural network is, and humans are very close to figuring out the difference. Nikola Tesla was very close.”

Understanding swept over Wulfgar, “So if we unleash a truly viable, self sustaining and self replicating AI, it will infest our computer networks and, ultimately, the Omegaverse itself. It will become a worm. A virus that inhabits entire wavelengths of the electromagnetic spectrum.”

“Where we now live, yes. That’s why humans are being studied. That’s why the Old Ones partition the galaxy and exert control, very tight control, over the entire electromagnetic spectrum.”

“To prevent us from wiping them out. From wiping out every enlightened species.”

“There are theories,” shrugged Nop, “that it has already happened. There are those of us who work with the Old Ones who believe that’s what the Old Ones really are. The first of the AI who managed the transition from computer networks and into the higher wavelengths of the spectrum.” He smiled, “They don’t really talk about it, though.”

Wulfgar stood and smiled down at Nop. He knew he could trust the Canis Arcturus as much as he could trust anyone. In any case, he had no worry about whether or not the werewolf would help him complete the quests at hand.

He turned and walked across the closet to the door, shutting off Illumination as he did. He listened for a moment, then gently opened the door and peered into the hallway. He sighed. Lilu was nowhere to be seen. He stepped across the hallway and felt more than heard Nop close the closet behind them.

Wulfgar knocked lightly on the door and, after a moment, opened it slowly. He smiled at the little girl, wide eyed and staring up at him. He held his finger up to his lips as he entered. Four children, two boys and two girls, all around eight years old, stared up at him. He smiled through each face, trying to exude a feeling of comfort and safety.

“What’s your name?” he asked the first girl, the one he’d seen downstairs.

“Jewel,” she said softly.

“I’m here to get you out, Jewel. You and all of your friends.”

“What about Bray?” asked one of the boys. He looked up defiantly at Wulfgar, “My name is Jif. Bray is my friend.”

“I’ll get Bray. Don’t worry about that, I promise.” He laughed inwardly as the serious little guy seemed to think about it and look sideways at Wulfgar. After a moment, Jif nodded.

“This is Nop. He’s my friend. He will help us out of here,” Wulfgar nodded toward the Canis Arcturus, putting an arm over his shoulder. The werewolf smiled a toothless grin, while the children looked to him, jaws dropped and in awe.

“What are your names?” Wulfgar asked the others.

“Semma,” whispered the girl.

“Portis.”

“Well, Semma, Jewel, Portis and Bray,” said Wulfgar, “we’re going to leave. Are you ready?”

“I’m Jif. Bray is downstairs,” said Jif, frowning.

Wulfgar smacked his head, “Of course, I’m an idiot! I won’t forget again.” He laughed at himself. He long ago learned that a good way of breaking the ice with small children was to make a goofy mistake. It seemed to make them feel at ease.

He looked through their little faces, “Now, we have to leave. We’re going to go through the room at the end of the hall.”

“We’re not supposed to go in there,” said Portis softly.

“I know, but it will be alright,” assured Wulfgar. “Nop and I will take you. It’s not a nice room, though, so I’m going to need each of you to keep your eyes shut the whole time. I’ll go first, and Nop will go last, so nothing will hurt you.”

He turned and moved back into the hallway. After making sure that the four children were following him, he walked to the end, stopping at the closed door.

Wulfgar looked down at Semma, the first of the children behind him, “Take my hand and the hand of the person behind you.” He watched as they complied, making one long string of escapees. “Take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can.” He opened the door and pushed through it into the abattoir birthing room. The tiny demon still lay in its mother’s open womb, and he walked as quickly as he dared.

“Remember, keep your eyes closed.” He looked back at the children. They looked so completely frightened that he had no doubt they would listen to him. “And keep your breath held. We’re almost through the room.”

They got to the other end of the chamber and into the darkened hallway. Wulfgar activated Illumination and said, “Alright, you can open your eyes, but don’t look back.” He gently pushed Semma past him.

Jif, the last in line, looked up at him as he passed and, cheeks puffed completely out, hummed what sounded like a question.

Wulfgar laughed lightly, “Yes, you can all breath again.” He laughed harder as they exhaled loudly as a group.

Wulfgar turned to look at Nop, “This is where I need to leave you all. This should be the exit.” He shook his head, “I can’t risk leaving and not being able to get back in without another swim,” he smiled, “and, anyway, you shouldn’t need me.”

He pulled off his backpack and handed it to the werewolf, “This stuff isn’t insured, so you go ahead and take it.” He didn’t know what the lute and walking stick were worth, but there was no reason for him to carry them.

Wulfgar turned to walk back through the bloody room.

“Good luck,” offered Nop as he ushered the children in the other direction.

Wulfgar took the opportunity to examine the birthing room closely for the first time. It was nearly as big as the throne room. Round with the two doors at either end. A dozen or more pairs of chains hung evenly spaced around the wall. Whitened bones lay on the floor at the base of some of them. Long dried gore splotched the floor beneath the chains, matching the decoration around the central plinth.

He looked down at the human corpse on the marble bed. Reaching to her face, he closed her eyes. NPC or not, he was bothered by her. She looked no less human than any player in this world.

He walked around the sacrificial bed, looking at the base. There were no openings he could make out. It looked like the room was bare and purposeful. There was no secret treasure to be found.

Sighing, Wulfgar walked back to the door and into the hallway. As he made his way down the corridor, he remembered to turn off Illumination. Progressing to the hanging tapestry that closed off the hallway from the throne room entrance, dread began to fill him. He wasn’t sure why - at worst, he would die, be resurrected, and have to try his plan another time.

Then a chill took over him.

Don’t you lose the quest if you die? You fail. It’s all over. No saving the elf prince. No elf king gratitude just before a major war. Fuck.

He took a deep breath. Maybe since the others are still alive, and still grouped, we won’t lose the quests after all. You shouldn’t lose the entire quest just because one member died, right?

He pushed through the curtain, unsure of what was about to happen; having nothing more than a vague outline of what he was going to do. Going to try to do.

As he made his way to the balcony overlooking the throne room, he saw that five of the succubi were clustered around the prince. The rest were waiting turn near the incubus. Bray crouched in the far corner of the room.

Lilu had one of his wives bent over, savagely taking her from behind. Taking from her the human or elf seed he would use to create another cambion.

Wulfgar looked back to the prince. His health flashed red as he writhed on the floor, mounted by a grinding succubus. Her eyes rolled as she drained the elf’s life force.

There wasn’t much time.

Taking a deep breath, he began walking down the circular staircase.

“Hi everyone!” Wulfgar yelled, “Is this where the orgy is?”

Chapter 6

Wulfgar gulped as Lilu’s head flashed in his direction. The demon’s eyes flared red as its rage overcame him. The incubus threw his wife aside, leaping into space as its wings shot out and bit the air. The women reacted just as quickly, leaving the prince sprawled, flashing red on the floor. Five approached the bottom of the right-hand staircase toward Wulfgar, the rest climbing the left to block his retreat. He took a deep breath and held it.

Wulfgar quickly thrust out his right hand toward the elf prince and activated healing. He moved to the far side of the stair-case, to create more space between himself and the demons. As the prince shifted hue from red to yellow, Wulfgar activated Confer while concentrating on his Stealth skill. He felt his Mana drop to nothing as the two spells drained his pool.

He looked to his left and his right as the succubi surrounded him. The demons were all focused on him.

“Good!” he shouted loudly, laughing. “Come get some, you hot little bitches!”

Wulfgar saw movement from the prince out of the corner of his eye and turned toward the prostrate elf. The prince gazed at Wulfgar with a questioning look. Wulfgar hoped that meant that he’d received the message about Stealth. The plan depended upon it.

Wulfgar looked to the tapestry at the top of the stairs and nodded. As hands from the succubi began grasping him, he glanced back to the prince who smiled weakly in understanding. Wulfgar turned back to the tapestry and nodded again to reinforce the point, and a sigh of relief exploded from him as he turned back and saw that the elf had disappeared into Stealth mode.

“Bind him,” hissed Lilu as his wives dragged Wulfgar down the stairs and across the room.

Wulfgar took a deep breath and the smell of the concerted pheromones surrounding him dizzied and drained all resistance. He felt his hands being raised and clamped into irons as he fought against losing consciousness. He looked up to the top of the stairs and smiled inwardly as he saw the tapestry pushed aside then dropped back into place.

“So far, so good,” he muttered as his chin fell wearily to his chest. Now all he had to do was rescue Bray. “Easy. I just have to get out of these chains first.”

Wulfgar’s mind swirled. He felt drunk. Fingers clawed into the skin of his neck and chest, a combination of pain and pleasure he’d never experienced. The seduction of the nymphs was replaced with depredation by the succubi. He was confused, he felt at once both attacked and enticed.

His eyes blurred. He saw the incubus on his knees in front of the throne, taking a wife once more. His hand forced her head into the marble floor as he thrust into her from behind. The thought that his own seed would be used to spawn a cambion, a demon, filled Wulfgar with revulsion. He tried to kick one of the women at his feet away, but she effortlessly pinned his leg against the wall while one of her sisters tore the front of his leather pants, ripping apart the buttons and opening the fly.

Wulfgar growled in a weird combination of frustration and desire. The pheromones left him out of sorts, unable to make any sense of his own emotions or desires. A succubus jerked his pants around his knees and took him roughly in her hands, plunging her mouth onto him and taking him entirely into her mouth and throat.

Her head bobbed ferociously, rapidly increasing his ardor.

“Ahhh!” screamed Wulfgar, “No teeth!”

“You have taken 5 points of damage!”

He bucked and writhed in ecstasy as the succubus fell backward. Another moved into her place, and, taking both of his bindings into her hands, hung off of the front of his torso. He shuddered as he felt her tail guide him into her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she pulled herself into him roughly. Her fetid breath, smelling of rotting flesh, gagged him even as her fragrance aroused him. He jerked his head to one side as she pounded against him, knocking his spine into the wall. Wulfgar saw another succubus dipping her fingers into a silver salver of blue liquid, then spread it over her breasts before she turned and walked to him.

She pushed her wet hand into his face and the pure essence of lust attacked and overwhelmed him.

“You have taken 6 points of damage!”

Wulfgar spasmed, hitting his head against the wall. The succubus dropped from him to the floor and rolled away, temporarily sated. Her recently perfumed sister took her place. This one grabbed him roughly by the back of his head, pulling his hair back and exposing his throat. Her teeth bit into his neck, drawing blood and a whimper, as she climbed onto him, mounting him. She groaned through her teeth as she began bucking. Wulfgar was filled with disgust and loathing as he felt her tail move between his legs and enter him from behind.

He screamed as her teeth and tail drove deeper into him. He was overcome with a strange combination of ecstasy, revulsion and pain.

“You have taken 5 points of damage!”

The world flashed red as she fell from him. His head fell forward onto his chest, hanging limply to the side. His legs gave way and he barely felt the iron digging into his wrists as his arms took his entire weight. He panted, trying to draw in enough oxygen. He could feel blood running down his neck and the back of his legs.

His unfocused eyes saw his member, still standing fully erect.

Won’t anything satisfy you, old boy?

Then he passed out.

In his delirium, Wulfgar thought back to his planning session with Nop. He had decided that there was no way to get in and take the prince through subterfuge. The only way they’d thought of was a distraction, and the only distraction they could think of was Wulfgar. He smiled, groggy, as he congratulated himself on the success.

“Having fun?” growled Lilu as the demon grabbed Wulfgar’s head and pulled his hair until their eyes met.

As weak and unfocused as he was, Wulfgar still felt a wave of horror as he looked into the demon’s unblinking gaze.

Lilu smacked Wulfgar across the face once, then let his head fall as the incubus turned and walked back to the center of the room.

“You have taken two points of damage!”

“You have been stunned!”

Drool fell from his lips and splashed his chest as Wulfgar’s head lolled. One eye began to swell from the demon’s blow and he looked through it to Lilu, who was now busy pushing a wife’s head onto his ever engorged manhood. She gagged as he forced himself almost fully into her, taking Wulfgar’s seed into himself.

The goop usually flows in the other direction, chuckled Wulfgar, but I bet she’s not using her teeth on you, sport. He felt a wave of dizziness and nausea. He had six hit-points left, but felt far worse than he had with only one point after the nymphs. That had just been this morning, assuming it was still the same day. Time had lost its track since entering this plane. Confer was still cooling down, so it hadn’t even been an hour since he’d been captured.

He looked through the rest of his character sheet. He still had almost no mana at all. None had raised, even passively, since he had cast his Confer spell. Even without using Meditation, his mana pool should refill over time. Wulfgar thought back to what Tief had said - the bindings that Lilu used had blocked his magical powers. That must be the case for all of the chains in this place.

His wandering train of thought stopped at Tief for the moment. Wulfgar wondered if the demon would live up to its enforced contract. Would the old man who introduced himself be an ally or a danger? Both?

A thought flashed into his mind. Merlin, the legendary wizard of King Arthur’s court, had been a cambion; born of an incubus and a human mother.

He began laughing, choking on his own spit, I have a fucking Merlin! I wonder if there’s a lady living in my lake?

“You are no longer stunned!”

He shook his head, and immediately regretted it as it felt as though his brain swirled within his skull.

Getting screwed to death isn’t as pleasant as I would’ve imagined. At least, not always. He had to admit, the nymphs made a much more pleasant job of it.

He was brought back to the moment when Lilu once again appeared in front of him. The incubus grabbed his chin in one powerful hand and lifted the human’s face. The demon leaned in until their faces were almost touching.

“Your laughter is distracting. It’s time you were finished.” He paused and smiled, revealing short but terrifying fangs, “Do you have any last requests?”

“Reverse cowgirl while you tickle my balls?” laughed Wulfgar, spitting in Lilu’s face, his anger and revulsion overcoming his fear.

The demon smiled slowly, a long, almost prehensile tongue flickering out of its mouth and licking away Wulfgar’s spittle. He stepped back from the human and all Wulfgar could focus on was the gigantic demonic penis, the glistening head a few centimeters from his stomach.

Wulfgar sucked in his gut to gain as much clearance from the rod as possible, but Lilu turned and walked back to his throne. Sitting, he pointed at a succubus and motioned toward the human.

I guess this is it, thought Wulfgar, watching her slowly sashay toward him. As she reached him, she reached down between his legs.

“You want your balls tickled?” she asked, her voice low, rough and seductive.

Wulfgar just looked into her eyes, then screamed as her nails dug into his scrotum.

Wulfgar shrugged away from the succubus as she spread more of the blue liquid beneath his nostrils. He could do nothing to forgo his burgeoning tumescence as she turned against him, pushing her hindquarters against his crotch. She sighed as she spread her legs and, reaching between them, used her hand to guide him into her. Her tail, grotesque to Wulfgar, moved lightly against his stomach. He closed his eyes.

It was just a matter of time before she took his sperm and his life.

Holy shit, he realized as he felt a climax forming, I’ve never actually died in this world. For all of the combat he’d been in, for all of the dangers he’d faced, he had never actually needed to use a single resurrection. He was overcome with an unreasoning sense of dread; a fear of the unknown. Even realizing that there was nothing to be afraid of, that he would simply wake in a new body downstairs, did nothing to assuage his terror. He tried to block his thoughts, his feelings; to block his orgasm.

Think of baseball. Think of baseball. Think of old ladies playing baseball. Think of old ladies playing naked baseball.

Nothing was working. The succubus’ grinding and her magic potion were too much for him.

Fuck it. Might as well think of being the meat in a Karen Gillan and Natalie Dormer sandwich.

His body bucked and he felt the irons dig into his wrists as his knees buckled and he collapsed.

“You have taken seven points of damage!”

“You have died!”

The world collapsed into a singularity of darkness, and he felt as though he was pulled into it. All of the pain, fear, and exhaustion left him as he became detached from his body.

“You will be resurrected at your last binding point in ten seconds.”

“Nine.”

“It has been nineteen (19) days and you have gained five (5) levels since your last resurrection.”

“Well done!”

“Six.”

“Five.”

“You have enough wealth to cover your insurance cost.”

“Three.”

“The cost of re-insuring your items is sixty-four (64) silver and three (3) copper.”

“One.”

Light blasted for an instant as he dropped onto the cold wetness of the stone floor. He felt the damp wood of the trapdoor creak underneath his back.

That wasn’t so bad, he laughed at himself. There had been nothing to be afraid of, and the confirmation of what he instinctively knew to be true was more risible than anything else.

Nineteen days since his last resurrection just before he first entered this world on his first day.

That was more a birth than a resurrection, he mused.

He stared up into the darkness and reflected on how far he’d come in two and half weeks.

“Incredible,” he muttered, sitting up. He activated Illumination from his now full mana pool. His Clandestine Slippers were on his feet, his pants fully buttoned and covering his ass. He felt behind; Shepherd’s Bite was in its sheath, his cloak and cowl were in place, the Sack of Herbs hung from his belt. All was well, he was fully healed and restored and all of his items were where they should be. The only think he was out was around the two-thirds of a gold-piece insurance cost.

“Cheap at twice the price,” he groaned, standing and moving to the stairwell. He took the stairs two at a time until he neared the store-room, then slowed, listening. Just out of the light, he made sure he had both doors in view.

Fuck! he thought. He realized that the Clandestine Gauntlets were gone. Loaned as they were by Rydra, that man’s insurance had first been placed on the gloves, so when Wulfgar died they dropped back into the thief’s pack. Fuck! He was now at level seven Stealth instead of the fourteen that the paired Clandestine items had given him.

He was now down to seventy-seconds of Stealth instead of twice that.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t die while I still needed to Confer Stealth onto Nop and the prince,” he whispered into the stairwell. As it was, he could now only give the skill at level three or four, depending upon whether it rounded up or down. Thirty or forty seconds.

He turned off Illumination and waited.

“Bray,” whispered Wulfgar. Hearing his name, the boy jerked, looking up toward Wulfgar, startled. He had just finished dragging Wulfgar’s corpse into the store room and pushing it onto the low table.

“Bray, it’s alright. I’m a friend. Jif sent me.”

“Jif?” asked the boy, his eyes wide in fright.

“Yes. And Jewel, Portis, and Semma. They all sent me to get you. They’re safe. They’re not here anymore. I’m going to take you to them.”

The boy looked fearfully, through the still open door into Lilu’s throne room.

Wulfgar walked out of the shadows and in between the two tables. He glanced down at the frame on the table. His body. His corpse. He felt disconcerted, looking down at his own form. It was naked but for a loincloth, all of the gear having been transferred to Wulfgar’s fresh body.

“It will be alright,” Wulfgar repeated. “I’ll get you out. I’ll keep you safe.”

He smiled down at the boy, hoping he was right. His plan required that he be able to use Stealth while carrying the child, and have that skill work to hide the both of them. Everything he carried, whether short sword or backpack also disappeared from view, so there was no reason that he could see that it wouldn’t transfer to Bray. He hoped.

Wulfgar finished circling his corpse’s table, and knelt in front of the boy. He whispered, “I need you to trust me. Do you?”

Bray nodded fretfully, but looked into Wulfgar’s eyes. Steady.

Wulfgar smiled and stood, then took the boy in his arms. Walking quickly toward the door, he activated Stealth. Bray turned into the same grayed diaphanous outline that the rest of Wulfgar’s body did. He hoped that meant that the boy was hidden.

He walked out into the throne room and, instead of making directly for the staircase went to the far wall, as far from the center of the room as he could get.

Even if Bray was covered by the Stealth as well, Wulfgar didn’t want to risk that he was somehow easier to detect, so he crept along the wall once he reached it, walking slowly and as quietly as possible to the staircase. He didn’t look to the center of the room as he began climbing. He could tell from the sounds and the movement out of the corner of his eyes that his last contribution to Lilu’s line of succession was being passed from wife to husband.

He held his breath as they got to the top of the stairs and, crouching, he pushed through the tapestry and into the hallway. Once they got through, he set Bray down and deactivated Stealth.

The little boy smiled up at him and Wulfgar returned it, saying, “You did great, buddy. Are you ready to leave this place forever?”

Bray nodded, “Can I get my blanket?”

Wulfgar was overcome with emotion. The boy had nothing in the entire universe that was his own, except for a ratty, thin blanket that lay in the room he shared with the only friends he’d ever known.

Wulfgar was going to make sure that Bray and the rest had a lot more than a threadbare blanket before too long.

“Sure thing, buddy. Let’s get your friends’ blankets too.”

“Congratulations! You have completed the quest Children’s Crusade!”

Wulfgar breathed a sigh of relief upon discovering that dying hadn’t lost him the quest and, Bray’s hand in his own, stepped from the dank grove and into the morning light. The night had passed while he was in Lilu’s lair. His friends were camped around a smoldering fire, rising with the day. Wulfgar smiled. He hadn’t received anything from completing the quest. No treasure. No apparent reputation boosts. Just experience. He hadn’t even received any bonus for having completed a quest on his oath. None of that worried him. He was, in fact, happier to have received no further reward than the simple rescue of the children, four of whom were happily sitting near the campfire eating breakfast.

“Bray!” yelled Jif, standing and running to the newly arrived pair.

As Bray dropped his hand and ran to greet his friends, Wulfgar reached out to the ancient oak and the world flashed green as he re-bound himself to this spot. The last thing he wanted to do was die and be reborn in Lilu’s lair.

Wulfgar looked sheepishly to Corwin, Connor and Gar, looking up at him from the campsite. “Hi guys. So, how was your night?”

“You mean after drowning?” asked Corwin, frowning.

Wulfgar just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s probably a good thing that Nop came out first, and explained everything to us,” added Gar.

“Sorry, but I really thought it was the right thing to do.”

“It probably was, as it turns out,” conceded Connor. “I just wish I didn’t have to die twice to figure it out.”

“Twice?”

“Yeah,” continued the ranger. “After the first drowning, we rushed back down to try to force our way through again. We were sure you were in trouble, for some reason. As I got to the door, I saw your sign and tried to swim back up.” He shrugged, “I didn’t make it.”

“Sorry, I tried to come back through the door when I found out, but it was a one way portal.” Wulfgar repeated. He thought for a way to change the subject, “Hey, did you guys get in on the Children’s Crusade quest?”

He smiled at the nods from the others.

“Good. I was hoping that you’d still be close enough to get credit.” He wondered just how far that could be pushed - after all, he’d accepted the quest in an entirely different plane of existence from this one.

“It’s probably part of a chain made by the Prince in Peril quest,” mused Corwin, “so since we were grouped closely when we accepted that, the grouping rolled over when you grabbed the other.”

Wulfgar nodded. That made perfect sense. He sat among the others, “Corwin, can you, Bael, Gar and Nop take the kids back to the village while Connor and I escort the prince home?” He smiled at the dark man’s nod, “And can we take your horse?”

Corwin shrugged, “Might as well. I’m certainly not going to ride it while the kids are walking.”

Wulfgar smiled thanks and reached to the stack of packs near the fire. He pulled out the one he’d found in the lair and opened it. He put the two flasks of blue liquid - which he assumed were the powerful perfumes that the succubi used - into his inventory next to the pair of chains that had held Tief, which he’d pried off of the wall as he and Bray left through the birthing room. Wulfgar assumed that a pair of binders that would hold a magical being might come in handy some day. He pulled out the lute, walking stick and silver sword.

The prince gasped upon seeing the sword.

Wulfgar asked, “Do you recognize this blade?”

“I do. It’s an heirloom. It’s been missing for hundreds of years.”

Wulfgar looked to Nop, who nodded. Wulfgar smiled, he had to remember to pay back the werewolf, big time, for this - the Canis Arcturus had found it, after all. It was his loot.

Wulfgar held the sword out to the elf, “With the compliments of Marchstone, its king and people.” He handed the lute and cane to Corwin, to transport back to the village.

The prince took the blade, looking at it as though it were a holy relic, then looked up to Wulfgar and nodded, his face somber.

“You have gained a great deal of Reputation with the Elves. They now hold you in Suspicion.”

Wulfgar laughed inwardly, all that increase in reputation, and they’re still suspicious of me. Friggin’ elves! He wondered what he’d have to do to actually gain the next level up.

He looked to the rest of the group, “Shall we begin motivating today? We need to get back to the elven woodland and you’ll probably want to get back to the village before lunch.”

“King Wulfgar?” asked Jewel timidly, “What will we do?”

He looked to the child. As far as he knew, none of the kids had any experience outside of the incubus’ hell-hole. He was determined that they would have to worry about nothing, ever again. For as long as they lived.

“You’ll live in my town. You’ll live and play and learn.”

You’ll actually get to be children, he thought.

“You’ll be my family,” he said, hugging her. He looked through the rest of the kids, “Wulfgar’s wolfpack!” he laughed. They smiled and nodded.

Wulfgar smiled broadly as the elf king embraced his son, the prince. The glade deep within the sylvan wood glowed with a green light that shone beautifully over the grass and trees. A weight had been lifted off of the forest with the return of the prince and the solution to the problem.

“Congratulations! You have completed the quest Prince in Peril by the Elf King!”

“You have gained in reputation with the Elves! They now respect you!”

“Congratulations! You have gained a level! You are now level 6! You have 2 Attribute points to spend!”

“Your Alignment is now Neutral Good!”

“Your have gained Reputation! You are now considered Mighty!

“Your reputation grants you +2 Personality! Folk are drawn to you and treat you with deference!”

Wulfgar immediately fed his inner greedy pig, dropping one point into Intelligence and the other into Agility. He felt his Hit Points, Stamina and Mana all increase slightly. Then he looked to the king and bowed.

“Your majesty,” he began, then straightened.

The elf nodded, something of a smile momentarily flickering across his lips, “Your majesty,” he replied.

Wulfgar continued, “My people are happy to have been of help to yours. I resolve to do what I can to prevent any recurrence of the predations of the incubus. I will have a sorcerer place strong spells upon the glade, to prevent its use as an entry point for this plane. In time, I will build a stone keep, a roofed wall, that will trap anything that does manage to break through.” And maybe a trading village around it, he thought, to take advantage of the new deal he’d made with the prince on their ride back.

As they’d traveled through the morning, Wulfgar had sounded the elf out about what sort of long term deals they could establish. He’d remembered what a steady bonus to his income that his trading routes with the Canis Arcturus home-world had been.

It turned out that the one thing that they required was a steady supply of fresh food. When Wulfgar had suggested that he assumed the problem was that farming within a forest was difficult, the prince had quickly corrected him.

“Elves don’t farm.”

Wulfgar had agreed to dedicate enough acreage within Marchstone to cover the elven needs. The income would be substantial, especially compared to the cost of setting up and managing the farms. He had been quite pleased with the deal.

He was brought back to the present by the king’s voice.

“And my people are grateful for the service you have provided.”

“Your Fortune increases the value of your reward!”

“Thank you, Corwin!” muttered Wulfgar to Connor out of the side of his mouth. Apparently the cumulative Fortune score of the group was enough to counteract Wulfgar’s pitiful rating.

The elf king presented Wulfgar with two gilded scrolls, four quivers of arrows, and a bag of coins. It looked like the rewards were for himself, Connor, and Corwin. He didn’t see anything that would interest Bael or the werewolves. He closed his inventory - he’d worry about how to split up the loot later.

Wulfgar looked back to the king, “My thanks, your majesty.”

“That is not all,” the king replied, “in addition to my irreplaceable son, you have returned the sword of my forefathers,” he held the silver sword into the sunlight. It flared in the glade and a hush fell over the gathered crowd.

“For this, I would grant you a boon.”

Wulfgar’s mind raced. He knew exactly what he wanted from the elves, but wanted to be sure to make the request exactly right.

“All I would ask of your majesty, of your people, is to be allied with my own.”

“Done.”

“You are now the ally of the Elf King!”

Wulfgar breathed a sigh of relief. The entire reason that he’d come here, to this forest, was now accomplished.

“But,” continued the king, “before I can grant what I know is your next request, to aid you in your coming fight, I must ask something of you, my ally.”

“Name it,” said Wulfgar, bowing, “and I will do whatever is within my power to grant it.”

“Our natural adversaries to the south, the dwarven lords, are ever threatening our borders,” he sighed.

Wulfgar hadn’t been aware that the relationship was so adversarial; he just assumed that the elves and dwarves disliked each other, and that was all.

The king continued, “And it would not be prudent of me, as the shepherd of my people, to leave my realm without protection while aiding yours.”

Wulfgar bowed again, understanding, “I will travel to the dwarves. To gain their assurance of peace.”

And their goddamn help in this war, as well, he thought.

“You have accepted the quest Suspicious Minds from the Elf King!”

Wulfgar and Connor rode easily, Corwin’s horse trailing behind, as they moved through the small hills and valleys that made up the Marchstone dale. He estimated that they would make the village by nightfall. In time for dinner. He wondered idly if Enquire Arenis or Heather the herbalist had arrived.

He flipped through the loot provided by the elven quest. To Connor he had given the arrow quivers and, while they were obviously of extremely high quality and workmanship, neither Wulfgar nor the ranger had the skill required to identify any other properties they might have. Lauren would have to take a look at them.

He smiled thinking of her. She was a ray of sunshine, full of good humor and positive energy. He had been lucky in all of his friends so far, and hoped that luck would hold with the desired influx of players to the village over the next weeks and months.

Eyes flicking through his inventory, he focused on the two scrolls - both thankfully marked. He read the first.

Alchemy (10). This skill provides the player the ability to use recipes for the creation of potions and access to those recipes that require the Alchemy skill. In some cases, the skill level adds to the potion level to determine the efficacy of the brew.

Wulfgar frowned. He already had the ability to create the Cure Poison potion. This seemed to imply that the Alchemy skill could increase the curative ability of whatever he made. Valuable.

He looked to the other scroll.

Veterinary (10). This spell gives the caster the ability to heal animals within sight. Damage heals at a rate of one (1) hit point per level of spell skill per second. Mana is drained from caster at one-half the rate of damage healed. Restricted to Morning. Cool-down 1 minute. Ingredients required: (1) Basil, (1) Feverfew, (1) Marigold.

Restricted to Morning, so that meant Galad. Wulfgar was glad to have something to give the player, and hoped that he didn’t already have the spell.

He looked to Connor, “Is it OK with you if we give the coins to Corwin, Nop and Gar to split?” He didn’t assume that Bael was interested in loot at all - being an NPC.

Connor nodded, “Sure. How much was it?”

Wulfgar opened the bag and thumbed through the coins, “Looks like eight gold and a handful of silver.”

“Not bad for a day’s work,” smiled Connor.

Wulfgar looked back to his inventory. He would have to add a few coins of his own to even out the payment to the others, depending upon how much the scrolls were worth. He pulled out the Alchemy scroll and unrolled it. It vanished as he read it and the knowledge leapt into his brain.

“You have gained ten levels in Alchemy!”

“You have learned the Alchemy recipe Strength!”

“You have learned the Alchemy recipe Intelligence!”

“You have learned the Alchemy recipe Agility!”

“You have learned the Alchemy recipe Mana Refresh!”

“You have learned the Alchemy recipe Superior Strength!”

He read through the description for each of those additional messages.

Strength Potion (1): Allows the creation of Strength potions. Drinking a Strength potion gives the player +3 Strength for four (4) hours plus ten (10) minutes per level over one (1). Recipe automatically granted at level 2 Alchemy. Buff potions cannot be stacked with the same effect.

Intelligence Potion (1): Allows the creation of Intelligence potions. Drinking an Intelligence potion gives the player +3 Intelligence for four (4) hours plus ten (10) minutes per level over one (1). Recipe automatically granted at level 4 Alchemy. Buff potions cannot be stacked with the same effect.

Agility Potion (1): Allows the creation of Agility potions. Drinking an Agility potion gives the player +3 Agility for four (4) hours plus ten (10) minutes per level over one (1). Recipe automatically granted at level 6 Alchemy. Buff potions cannot be stacked with the same effect.

Mana Refresh Potion (1): Allows the creation of Mana Refresh potions. Drinking a Mana Refresh potion gives the player five (5) times their current base Mana regeneration rate for ten (10) minutes plus ten seconds per level over one (1). Any other buffs for Mana regeneration are factored after the potion’s effects. Recipe automatically granted at level 8 Alchemy.

Superior Strength Potion (1): Allows the creation of Superior Strength potions. Drinking a Superior Strength potion gives the player +6 Strength for four (4) hours plus ten (10) minutes per level over one (1). Recipe automatically granted at level 10 Alchemy. Buff potions cannot be stacked with the same effect.

Each of those recipes came with an associated list of ingredients, as well as the steps required to manufacture them. Superior Strength, in addition to needing a higher skill level, required a larger amount of ingredients than the regular Strength potion. In some cases, he would have to heat the mixture for hours to complete the process. He hoped that the recipes scaled - so that he could create large batches of the tincture at a time and portion them out into jars. He assumed that each required a minimal amount to be effective. He would have to experiment once he got back to the town.

His mind was jerked away from Alchemy as a message flashed into his brain.

Danger! Danger! Hurry!

Wulfgar looked to Connor. The ranger seemed no different. He was riding as before, unconcerned.

“Did you just get a message?”

Connor looked to him, shook his head, “What message?”

“Danger! Danger! Hurry!” Wulfgar frowned, “It was like a voice in my head.”

“No, nothing at all,” Connor shook his head again.

“I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

“Me neither.”

Wulfgar thought for a moment. The what of the message wasn’t as important right now as the why. Whoever had sent the message needed help. Now. There was only one where that made any sense to Wulfgar. Marchstone village.

Without waiting for Connor, he leaned forward onto the horse’s neck and spurred his mount into a full gallop.

Wulfgar reined in his horse. Connor and Corwin’s horse pulled alongside. They were on the crest of a small rise, a few kilometers from the village. Wulfgar shaded his eyes and rose in his stirrups. The wind, slight and from the east, brought a smell like a campfire.

Smoke, black and roiling, rose from beyond another hillock.

From the village.

Wulfgar dropped back into the saddle and, without saying anything, spurred his horse back into a gallop.

As they sped through the dale, the smell grew stronger, the smoke higher. They finally leapt the small stream and entered the square. The inn was ablaze. Fire licked from the windows of the upper floor and smoke poured out of the door. A body lay in front, hacked horrifically.

Tim! he thought, looking frantically toward the wall for his nemesis and supporters.

“Wulfgar!”

He looked to the shout. Lauren was crouched, in between her shop and the one closest to the inn. He dropped from the saddle and sprinted toward her.

“Watch out,” she shouted, motioning him toward the shelter of the buildings. A ripple of shadows accompanied the low thunk as multiple arrows embedded themselves into the dirt of the square.

Wulfgar changed his course, moving perpendicularly away from the inn. More arrows hit the ground behind him. He jumped the last few meters and bumped to a halt against the building wall, next to Lauren, Snorri and the rest. Connor reached them a moment later.

“What is going on?” he asked, breathless.

“Orcs,” growled Snorri.

Wulfgar’s jaw dropped. Had there been another raiding party that they’d missed on their trek outward?

“Orcs,” agreed Glain, his dwarven brother nodding beside him. “They fell upon us. We were below. Excavating for the cistern. We hadn’t dug more than a piddling when we broke through, into what looks to be another cavern.”

“How the hell could that have happened?” Wulfgar wondered aloud.

Snorri laughed, “Don’t you read fantasy? Dwarves always delve too greedily and too deep. It’s a thing.”

“Yeah, thanks Gloin,” said Wulfgar sarcastically, frowning at Snorri.

“It’s Glain, your majesty,” corrected the dwarf.

Wulfgar smiled apologetically, “Of course. Sorry. Your crew. Are they safe?”

The dwarves nodded, “The orcs were as surprised as we. We beat a hasty withdrawal outside, with them hot on our tails. They managed to make a quick foray outside and overwhelm the inn. With your friends, we beat them off with no losses.”

Wulfgar looked to the body, “One loss.”

“A girl,” said the dwarf, dismissively, “No matter.”

“Maybe to you,” growled Wulfgar. Making up his mind, he sprinted to the inn. Arrows chased him as he skidded to a stop. He scooped up the girl and began running back to his friends. He looked to his right. The orcs had taken over the keep. The door was shut and presumably barred. Arrows shot from the darkened windows on each floor. He slid back in between the two buildings and, kneeling, gently laid the body on the ground.

It was Rosie. The barmaid.

He tried to heal her, but it was no use. The orcs had been too thorough.

Wulfgar frowned, “I’m sorry, Rosie,” he whispered. He looked up. A woman was looking at him, strangely. She was surrounded by children - the five of Wulfgar’s wolfpack and four or five others. They all huddled together. He looked to her character sheet.

Baker Belle. Level 13. Mender Chef.

Her hands were on the heads of two of the children. She didn’t say anything, just continued to watch Wulfgar.

He looked back down to Rosie. Pulling off the Cowl of the Wolf, he laid the cloak across her, covering her face gently. He looked around the corner, toward the keep. Arrows shot once more toward him. Angrily, he raised his right hand and launched a Fire Shot at the first of the missiles. It flashed into fire and streaked past his head, embedding itself into the wall of Lauren’s shop.

Moving swiftly across the alleyway, he pulled the flaming arrow from the wall.

“Bad idea,” he muttered, dropping it to the ground and stomping out the fire.

“What’s the plan?” he asked turning to his friends. They all looked up as Shannon, Schwartz and Bear all rounded the building from the northern, lakeside, part of the village.

Another wave of emotion flooded through Wulfgar.

Happy! Happy! Happy!

Bear jumped up and Wulfgar took the much too large dog into his arms and buried his face into its fur. He realized what the messages were. Bear must have beamed his first message when he saw the smoke. They must have been to the north. He looked to Shannon.

“Mind Speak?” he asked.

She nodded, “I managed to grind him up a level through some training while you were gone.”

He smiled. That was a talk for another time.

“Plan?” he repeated, turning to the rest of the group.

“None so far,” answered Snorri sheepishly. “We fought the orcs back into the keep and managed to get inside after them, but it was an ambush. There are a lot of them in there. We got our asses kicked. We all just resurrected when you got here.” The others were busy pulling equipment from out of the inventories where it had returned upon resurrection.

Wulfgar nodded, “I need to bind up at the church before I go rushing into anything,” he said, “Otherwise I’ll res back at the lake.” He looked over the group, they all looked back at him expectantly. While he thought through the problem, he leaned back out to look again at the keep. He launched another Fire Shot, this time at the door of the keep instead of the arrows that came in response to his peek.

Just before the missiles overwhelmed him, he saw his spell fizzle and die in mid-air.

He ducked back into the alley. “What the hell?” he muttered to himself. He scanned down his character sheet.

Fire Shot (3): Sends a directed ball of flame up to five meters from the caster (plus 1 meter for every level). Maximum size of the ball is determined by the skill level of the caster. The fire can only ignite and damage flammable objects. Maximum size = ((Spell Level + Magic Level)) x .1 meter). Damage depends on flammability of object. Damage continues until flame is extinguished. 09 Mana per cast. No cool-down. Ingredients required: (1) Goat’s Rue, (1) Motherwort, (1) Mountain Mint.

That was it. The range he currently had was only eighteen meters. The keep was probably around twice that distance.

Crap, he thought, that means that Fire Shot is going to be next to useless on the wall in the war. He pushed away any fantasy he’d had of launching fireballs at advancing troops.

He looked to Connor, “Start putting some arrows into that door. Get it burning.” He smiled ferociously as the ranger began stringing his Fire Bow.

He turned back to his waiting friends. Catcher was there.

Good.

“Catcher,” he began, “can you take Schwartz, Bear and RaNay to the roof of the keep. We’re going to hit them from two sides at once.” He looked to Shannon, “RaNay, do you think the three of you can manage the stairs. I just want you to scare the crap out of the orcs. Keep them busy while the rest of us go through the front.”

“After you bind at the church,” interrupted Lauren.

Wulfgar smiled, “I haven’t forgotten,” he said lightly.

He looked around, counting heads, “Where’s Galad?”

“In the mountains with Bael. They went to get some rare reagents,” said Lauren, “for uber healing and buffs.”

Wulfgar nodded and stepped back as he watched Bear curl into a ball behind Catcher. She lifted her carpet off of the ground and raised into the air over the building. He moved to the lakeside of the alley and continued to watch as she moved over the keep and settled onto the tower roof. After a few seconds, she lifted and flew back.

“Any problems?” he asked.

She shook her head, “No. The door’s closed. Bear is watching it.” She looked to Schwartz. The cat, twice the size of the dog and longer, curled around Catcher as she scooted in the center. All eyes were on her as she repeated the procedure from before.

“Wish me luck,” smiled Shannon as she boarded the carpet for the third trip.

“Wait for our attack before you start coming down. Move slowly. You’re as much as distraction as anything else,” warned Wulfgar, worried for her.

She just smiled as the carpet lifted, “OK, but you’ve obviously never seen Schwartz in action. Those orcs are fucked!”

Wulfgar smiled as they flew away, “Catcher! Go ahead and stay with Shannon!” He didn’t think she would add much to the doorway assault. For that matter, he laughed inwardly, I’m not sure what use I’ll be.

The sorcerer nodded understanding and agreement.

Wulfgar looked back to Snorri.

“I’m going to go around the right. I’ll be the distraction. The rest of you,” he looked through Snorri to Corwin, Connor, the werewolves, and the dwarves, “go around the back of this house. Be ready to attack when you see the arrow storm come my way.”

He peeked back around the corner then ducked once more into the alley.

“The door is burning nicely. Good job Connor,” Wulfgar smiled as the ranger bowed, “You’ll be cover fire for the rush of the tanks.” He looked to Baker Belle.

“Mender. Healer, right?”

She nodded.

“OK. Wait here, watch the kids. Maybe move up to the outside of the keep’s door if it sounds like we’re making headway. We might need a quick heal or two.”

He smiled at the bard, “BeeBee. You any use in a stand-up fight?”

“Not much, I’m afraid.”

Wulfgar nodded, “Do what you can, when you can. If nothing else, be eyes for Belle’s back. Make sure nothing sneaks up on her.”

The musician nodded. Wulfgar idly wondered if the lute he found in Lilu’s storeroom would be of any help, then dismissed the thought for later worry.

Wulfgar watched as the raiding party moved through the alley and disappeared around the back of John Tailor’s shop. Baker Belle and BeeBee hurried in the other direction, ushering the children to safety into the back of Lauren’s shop.

He was alone - except for Lauren.

“You joining the rest of the attackers.”

“Not until I see you run up to the church and bind your ass here,” she smiled.

“Yes, mom,” he grinned. They had time. The keep door was still burning, and Snorri would make easier work of the entry if the wood was blackened first.

His smile froze as he saw Lauren’s gaze shift past his shoulder. Her jaw dropped.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Wulfgar turned as the sound of the hooves of several horses thundered into the square. The small orc arrows rained down on the newly arrived warriors, but were ineffective against the heavily armored horses and men. One or two of the riders nearest the keep derisively flicked away a few of the volley with their large, kite-shaped, metal shields. He heard the yells of his friends in the assault force as they mistook the orc volley for Wulfgar’s distraction and charged the keep door.

The blood drained from Wulfgar’s face, and his stomach fell.

On the center horse, perched high and standing in his stirrups, Tim grinned triumphantly and, pointing at Wulfgar, bellowed in laughter.

“Capture that one! Take him alive!”

Epilog

Darkwind Knightfall sat back in the saddle. It had been an easy morning’s ride from the little village on the edge of the frontier between the lands of King Clive and Wulfgar. He smiled - whatever anyone else said, he wasn’t prepared to give the upstart player the title of “king”. Not until he’d earned it to Darkwind’s satisfaction.

And he’ll have to go through me first, he thought.

“Jay!”

Darkwind looked up at his name; his real name. He usually went by that with other players since it was less of a mouthful than Darkwind Knightfall and, even though he had been in this world for a long time he was still used to answering to the name he’d had since birth on Earth.

He spurred his horse to answer Tim’s summons, then reined in next to the wizard’s mount. He nodded to the general of King Clive’s army.

Tim smiled, “Feel like a little scouting run?”

Jay shrugged, “Sure.”

Tim turned in the saddle and pointed across the river and past a well built stone bridge that forded it, “Head up there. To that little hill on the other side.” He turned and looked back to the knight, “I want to make sure that we aren’t crossing into an ambush.”

Jay nodded and pulled on his helm while once again urging his horse forward. The view through the skull adorned helmet was restricted, but he would be alone.

Better safe than stupid.

He looked to his left, to the south, and then to the north as he crossed the bridge. His horse’s hooves clacked along the stones and accompanied the swirling gurgling of the river rushing beneath. As he reached the far side and once again began moving over grass, he pulled his sword and held it high. Focusing on the blade, he activated his Lightning spell and empowered the weapon with one shot of the spell.

The next thing he hit would be blasted with a level ten lightning bolt in addition to the awesome damage inflicted by the mighty blade. As soon as he’d discovered the Knight Magus path and decided to work his way toward it, he’d practiced his Lightning spell as often as he could. Even without the blade, the spell did a high amount of damage. It had taken work - just about any skill or spell in this world advanced slowly after the first few levels - and he was eager to try his new path’s primary skill for the first time in combat.

He smiled. He almost hoped that there was an ambush on this side of the river.

Leaning forward, he spurred his horse into a gallop and made the top of the hillock that Tim had indicated. There was nothing waiting on the far slope nor was there anything that he could see up the hill in the distance as it climbed to Wulfgar’s village.

He turned his horse through a full circle, looking for any sign of danger, but the area was clear. He sheathed his sword and pulled the reins, stopping the horse facing the river. He waved twice and saw that Tim began moving forward to meet him.

Jay laughed a little. Tim made sure that several of his warriors led the way across the bridge, and that he had several at his back as he crossed. The wizard wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t stupid. The raid was almost all tank. All heavily mounted and armored warriors. Jay was the highest level but not by much. Tim had chosen seven of his heaviest hitters to accompany him on this scouting mission. A reconnaissance in force, as the army would have said.

Tim had, rightly Jay thought, said that in addition to just seeing the lay of the land the current mission would be valuable in determining the strength of Wulfgar’s forces. They not only wanted to be able to do as much damage as possible, they wanted to make it so that Wulfgar needed to show his order of battle to defeat them.

The had all laughed while drinking at the inn the night before; they might even have enough power to defeat Wulfgar on this raid alone.

Jay doubted that was true, but the other denizens of the inn seemed impressed. One, a rather rotund player sitting with a little old lady and small child, had been especially inquisitive. The guy had passed around a number of bottles of brew he said that he’d made and Jay had to admit, it was the best beer he’d had in this world. The man had also given out an incredibly delectable handful of jerky that had been mouthwatering. Advertising, the man had said, for his food shop in Edonis. Jay had no doubt that he would look up the place after this raid. The food and beer were amazing.

Tim had made a play at recruiting the player, but the man said he didn’t have any combat skills.

Jay shrugged. The recruiting hadn’t been going as well as Tim had hoped it would. There were no more than a couple of dozen players who’d committed so far. If the rumors that Tim’s recruiter, Rydra, had told them were accurate, Wulfgar already had nearly three times that many players in the town. That had disconcerted Tim. Jay had suggested taking everyone on the recon mission, but Tim had felt that the untrained group wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough to make it en masse to Marchstone before resurrection was turned off.

Jay shrugged again. He was going to do everything he could to help King Clive win, but he wasn’t going to lose any sleep if they lost. He was in it for the reward - his war quest had been tied to a level twenty Lightning scroll. A one hundred percent boost in spell power for him. He wanted it, badly, but there was no other real reason he cared about the war. He didn’t particularly like Tim and he didn’t particularly hate Wulfgar. His character sheet showed his Alignment as Chaotic Good and that fit him pretty well, he thought, but he didn’t necessarily see King Clive as good and Wulfgar as bad.

Jay just hoped to have some fun and get a kick-ass reward. He smiled. Chaotic indeed.

He watched as the party regrouped on this side of the bridge. Tim once again took the middle of the loose cloud of mounted warriors. Some of those guys, Jay mused, were true believers. They had been with Tim for a while. Well before this business with Wulfgar anyway.

They had all had a good time the night before relating the first time they’d met Wulfgar and his friends in that very village. How they had been about to wipe the town square with them when a strong cavalry troop of guards had shown up and saved Wulfgar’s ass. Tim had been enthusiastic about how badly Wulfgar’s group would have lost and Jay didn’t doubt it - some of Tim’s guys were proper Abrams tanks. Heavy hitters.

Jay pulled off his helmet as the group reached him. Laying it across the pommel of his saddle, he saluted Tim lightly, “Nothing to report, sir.”

Tim laughed, “I didn’t think there would be. But it’s probably a good idea to play it smart.”

So I would be the only one lost if there was an ambush, thought Jay. Not that he disagreed with the sentiment or begrudged his choice as the sacrificial lamb. Jay probably would have picked himself as well.

He turned his horse and, melting once more into the group, spurred his way up the hill toward Wulfgar’s little kingdom.

As they rode, Jay reflected on the past several days. Tim had constructed a camp outside of the walls of Edonis and begun training players as they arrived to join the fight. Rydra had told them that Wulfgar was busy building a wall across the only pass that led into the valley, so Tim had decided that his army would train against a wall - the wall around Edonis. Jay admitted that it made sense. They had been busy building siege engines, specifically a helepolis.

That was just a large tower on wheels that could be pushed to a wall. It had been invented by the ancient Greeks and used in the siege of Rhodes around 300 BC. It allowed players cover and protection as they climbed within the tower and reached the height of the wall. They would then be able to shoot down on any defenders as well as jump across the gap and attack the wall-top itself.

Jay doubted the utility of being able to move this beast across the entire kingdom and push it up the mountain and into the pass, but he kept that counsel to himself. Tim was also building and training on the use of basic siege ladders. Those would be much easier to transport to the wall, but would be much more dangerous to use. It required an overwhelming force of attackers to take and hold the walls that way; and since there was no way to prepare the army before resurrection was turned off, each death at the wall was one fewer soldier. It was going to be a tough fight.

They had spent a day learning to form a shield wall. Learning how to kneel and duck behind it as arrows from Edonis’ guards on the wall flew at them. Jay had been surprised at how few of the players actually knew anything about medieval warfare. The training was going to be real, and necessary. It was going to take a while to turn the MMO rabble into anything resembling a functioning army.

It had been fun, though, and even the newbiest of newbs seemed to be enjoying themselves. It was a new experience, a new adventure. Jay had been almost sad to leave the training behind when Tim had pulled his heavy armor away for the recon mission.

As they rode through the kingdom, Tim had obviously enjoyed the notoriety that his new role provided him from player and NPC alike. He seemed to revel in having each of the lowly peasants doff their cap and tug their hair, kneeling, as he passed by. He played the role of the general of King Clive’s army fully and enthusiastically. Jay found it a little off-putting, but not terribly so.

Tim had spent much of the ride speaking to each member of the raiding party, getting to know them better. Jay admitted that the man could be personable when he wanted to, and it didn’t come across as disingenuous. Among themselves, though, each of the group seemed aloof. There wasn’t much talk, especially between Tim’s old guard and the new recruits. That suited Jay fine; he wasn’t really in this to make friends.

Jay reined his horse in from the gentle trot they’d been using to climb the hill into the alpine valley. They were a bow-shot away from a low wall that stretched between two jutting mountains that formed the bookends of the pass.

“That’s it?” laughed Tim derisively. “That’s Wulfgar’s big bad wall?” He turned to look at Jay and the others, smiling.

Jay nodded but thought that the wall, though only a meter tall, was pretty damn good if Wulfgar’s people had only been building it for a week. If they weren’t able to get their army trained and moved in quick order, the fortification would be much larger by the time they got back here with the siege engines.

Movement caught Jay’s eyes. One very tall and several short figures scrambled out of what must be a moat in front of the wall and ran toward the stone keep that centered the pass. They quickly disappeared behind the stone fortress.

“C’mon,” said Tim, spurring his horse forward.

Jay pulled his helm from the pommel and dropped it onto his head. He followed Tim’s horse, spurring his own to overtake the general. As they got nearer the pass, they could see that the wall wasn’t complete, even at its shortened state. The left, southern, side of the wall didn’t extend to the mountain on that side of the pass, so Jay reined his mount in that direction. He intended to keep himself as far away from the little castle as possible.

The group stopped after they crossed to the south of the wall and looked northward, along the fortification. Though only a meter tall at this point, the wall was fronted by an equally deep and wide trench. It looked like the material for the wall was taken from the ground directly in front of it.

Jay nodded in his helm, that was lucky. For Wulfgar. He wouldn’t have to drag the heavy stones to where he needed them, and digging them out of the ground had the added benefit of creating a moat in front of the wall. It was likely to become an impressive fortification. He looked back toward the east, down the hill they’d just climbed.

“This will be kind of a bitch to attack up.”

Tim nodded thoughtfully, “It will. Especially if that wall gets any higher,” he said softly.

Jay looked at Tim, narrowing his eyes. The general’s initial comment on the wall didn’t reveal his true feelings. Tim knew that the wall was going to be difficult. His derision had been for the group. To show no fear. To show no concern. To instill his troops with his own feigned confidence. Smart.

Narcissist or not, Jay thought, Tim has the makings of a leader. He reflected that King Clive had chosen well.

“What do you think?” asked Tim quietly.

Jay grunted, “We’re not in New Hampshire anymore.”

Tim nodded, “Seriously, though.”

“Seriously?” he sighed, “Seriously, this thing could be a nightmare. If we don’t get a lot more recruits, the odds are that we won’t be able to take this wall if it gets much higher. We don’t have a lot of time if this,” he pointed along the pass, “was what Wulfgar was able to build in less than a week.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Tim frowned. He sat back in the saddle and brushed his long, dark hair from his face. “I may just have to rethink my plan. It might be better to get back to Edonis and quickly get everybody moving. Soon. Tomorrow.”

The wizard looked back down the valley, “Even so, it will probably be a week before we can get everyone here in any sort of order. We still have to get our equipment. We need arrows. We need more shields. More pole-arms.”

“The helepolis?” asked Jay.

Tim shook his head, “Useless. Not only is it going to be much too tall, getting it up that hill,” he pointed at the path they’d just climbed, “is going to be too much, I think.” He thought for a moment, “No. We leave that. We’ll bring the ladders though.”

Jay nodded. If nothing else, they would probably be needed to bridge the moat. He pointed back down the hill, “The crest of the climb is within bow range. It’s going to be hard to get everyone advancing up that slope in order. With overlapping shields. Once they reach the flat, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Tim frowned, “Yeah. The plus, though, is that it will be harder for the archers to hit us as we’re climbing. Assuming we are able to get a good shield wall going. We’ll already be angling up.”

Jay didn’t think the slope was sharp enough to make much of a difference in that regard, but he nodded anyway. Time would tell who was right, and he couldn’t think of anything that anyone could do about it anyway. Except prepare.

“We should probably spend a day or so down the slope. Training the troops in climbing in a shield wall.”

Tim laughed and smacked Jay on the back, “Good damn idea. We’ll do that. Thanks,” he leaned forward in the saddle, “that helped. A lot. I feel a bit better about the problem, now that I know I have guys like you working on it with me.”

“Look!” shouted one of the tanks, further past the wall and sitting on his horse near the base of the southern mountain. He pointed to the north, past the small keep.

Jay looked toward where the warrior was pointing. A column of black smoke rose into the sky, several kilometers distant. From the height of the billowing dark cloud, it had been burning for a while. It was, Jay thought, far too large to be from a campfire. Something of substance and size was burning.

Tim whooped and shouted, “Follow me!” as he spurred his horse in the direction of the fire.

Jay followed, his horse galloping as fast as it could. Jay didn’t even notice the desultory arrow or two that came from the keep as they sped past.

“Capture that one! Take him alive!”

Jay looked as Tim stood in the saddle, pointing across the village square at a tall, leather-bound man. He was standing next to a small, blond woman in dark plate armor. He looked to be around two meters tall, with long dark hair and beard. He was built like a warrior, not a rogue magus.

So that’s Wulfgar.

After seeing the smoke rising, the raiding party had ridden as fast as they could toward it. Almost as a single entity, they had leapt their horses over a small stream and pounded around a tanner’s shack and into the center of the small town. There seemed to be nothing to the place. A small, open, dirt covered square centered by a small stone fountain. On the north and south sides of the plaza, half a dozen or so old-English looking buildings faced each other, lining the way that led to the burning inn on the eastern side. Beyond the flaming hotel, a decent sized stone keep rose. It looked to be four or five stories high, with a rectangular base from which the tower rose. The fort looked much more substantive and defensible than the one in the pass.

“We’ve got him!” shouted Tim triumphantly, “We can end this now.” He thrust his hand toward Wulfgar and repeated, “Take him alive!”

Jay spurred his horse again, and it leaped over the fountain and skidded to a halt on the far side. Several of the other tanks took up his flank as he dropped from the saddle and hit the ground, raising a small cloud of clay colored dust. A few light arrows plunged into the dirt at his feet and one bounced off his breastplate. They were too small, too ineffectual for him to be concerned with.

He drew his sword and proffered his shield, inviting the pair to combat. Wulfgar looked tense. Worried. He looked to his left and right.

“You can’t run,” said Jay lightly. “You can only surrender. You can’t defeat me.”

Wulfgar opened his mouth to speak and his eyes blazed in shock as a blade appeared in his mouth, thrusting through between his open teeth. His eyes rolled as he dropped to his knees.

The blond woman stepped back, pulling the blade from the back of Wulfgar’s neck. Jay jumped toward her, trying to block her arm, but she managed to stab Wulfgar again in the upper back, through to where his heart would be.

“NOOOOO!” screamed Tim as Wulfgar pitched forward into the dirt, lifeless.

Jay raised his shield between Wulfgar and the woman, and activated his Greater Heal spell, targeting Wulfgar. It was no use - he was dead. He looked to Tim and shook his head as his shield took a blow from the woman’s short sword.

“Get to the church! Get him when he resurrects!” Tim yelled.

Jay easily parried another thrust, refraining from attacking. He wasn’t sure if Tim wanted this one dead or captured.

“He’s not bound at the church, dumbass!” the woman yelled. “You lost him. He’s gone.” She tried to get past Jay’s shield, but he again easily moved to counter her attack.

“Kill them!” Tim screamed, “Kill them all and burn this entire fucking village to the ground. Leave them nothing to defend!”

Jay pushed forward, using his shield to knock the woman backward, off-balance. He raised his blade and brought it down on her exposed head. A look of sudden fear shot across her features as she tried, futilely, to block the heavy hand-and-a-half sword.

“Critical hit!”

“19 points of damage!”

“05 points of damage, First Blood!”

“12 points of damage, Lightning Bolt!”

“Congratulations! You have gained a level in Heavy Blade!”

He grinned savagely as the woman dropped dead against the wall of the building.

Wow! he thought, Twelve-points additional damage from one swing. He had just one-hit killed her; the extra damage from First Blood wouldn’t have applied if she was already wounded or had managed to hit and do him any damage first. The Knight Magus took a second to apply another Lightning Bolt to his sword. He looked down at the body, “Damn, she’s cute.”

Jay flinched at a roar from the east.

Was that a fucking tiger?

Whatever had made sound, it saved him - attracting his attention toward the keep. He managed to raise his shield just in time to parry a wild blow from a savage looking blond giant of a man. He was enveloped in a blast of Lightning as the Viking’s double-bladed axe rang off his shield, knocking him to his knees.

“You have taken four points of damage!”

Jay rolled away from the screaming madman as one of the other tanks moved in and struck. He stood as he felt his Hit Points rise; he assumed that Tim was healing him. Buffaloing his way forward, he rammed his opponent with his shield, causing him to stumble. He brought his blade over and across his shield, aiming a crossing blow.

“07 points of damage!”

“11 points of damage, Lightning Bolt!”

The man fell to the ground, his face grimaced in pain and smoke rising from his torso. Jay raised his sword and looked down at his target just as he felt a blow against his left shin.

“You have taken five points of damage!”

Lightning once again played through his body, causing him to shudder. He stepped back, away from the laying viking.

How the hell did he hit me with two Lightning Bolts? He didn’t take any time to recharge the axe! Is he a higher level Knight Magus than I am?

His questions would go unanswered. The other tank stepped forward and thrust his blade down, cutting into the viking’s throat. Killing him.

Jay looked up. Another roar came from the castle keep. Screams, human and inhuman, rang from within the stone walls. Whatever was happening in there, it sounded nasty. Wulfgar’s people were being beset from both sides.

“Burn the village!” screamed Tim. “Everything!”

Tim’s scream rose in pitch and volume. It became one of pain and anguish, then stopped altogether.

Jay spun, looking to the west in time to see Tim falling from the saddle. Jay immediately raised a hand and activated his Greater Heal spell, but like before it was too late. Tim lay in the orange dust, his body riddled with arrows. Big ones.

He looked up. On the edge of town, about two dozen riders were arrayed in a half circle focusing on him and the other tanks. Elves. Dark elves. Each had a bow bigger than any rider had a right to carry and each was nocking and releasing arrows in frightening rapidity.

Jay heard a scream to his right and, looking, saw several arrows strike one of the tanks. They cut through his heavy plate armor like a hot knife through warm cheese. One of the missiles splashed flame across the player’s chest. He dropped like a stone.

Jay fell to one knee, raising his shield as his companions began falling around him. He saw the viking, apparently resurrected and re-equipped, standing in front of the line of elves, talking to them. Jay focused on him and launched a Lightning Bolt.

“03 points of damage, Lightning Bolt!”

The blond shivered as he was hit, but continued directing fire.

Shit, thought Jay, that sucked. Becoming a Knight Magus now allowed him to cast a spell onto his weapon, and also let him use offensive magic while wearing full metal armor, but it limited his damage with direct casts. That was the one drawback.

He looked to his blade and recharged it with a Lightning Bolt and rose, charging the line of elves.

I’ll at least take out that blond fucker again, if nothing else!

He stumbled past the fountain and Tim’s corpse, his shield raised in front of him. He jerked his head back as an arrow punched through the heater and the skull visor of his helmet, scoring his cheek.

“You have taken one point of damage!”

He began to growl as he increased his speed, sprinting toward the deadly rain of arrows. Another missile shot through his leg armor, into his right thigh.

“You have taken seven points of damage!”

“You have a bleeding wound!”

Jay groaned, pushing himself ever forward.

A bleeding wound! Not only are the arrows bigger and harder hitting, they’re enhanced too. Bleeding Wound and Fire Shot he had already seen. What else was there?

Another arrow answered his question as it tore through the shield and into his chest. He was enveloped in a blast of lightning that dropped him to his knees.

“You have taken six points of damage!”

The plate at least seemed to have blunted a lot of the potential damage of the arrows, but not enough.

“You have taken one point of damage from your open wound!”

If he didn’t tend to that bleeding wound soon, he would bleed out and die.

He laughed, As if I’m going to last that long!

To accentuate the point, two more arrows knocked into his chest, putting more holes through his breastplate.

“You have taken eight points of damage!”

“You have taken six points of damage!”

“You have taken one point of damage from your open wound!”

“You have been stunned!”

He fell forward, hard, into the dust of the square. His helmet rolled from his head as his body lolled sideways. Just before he succumbed to darkness, he saw the last of his allies falling underneath a hail of elven arrows.

Name: Wulfgar the Mighty, Rogue Magus of Evening, King of Marchstone

Level: 06

STR: 11

INT: 09+01

AGI: 12

PRS: 02+02

FRT: 01

HP: 25 (ST+AGI + (LVL/3))

AC: 03 (Leather, Full)

STA: 18 (AGI+LVL)

MNA: 20 (INT+ (Magic Level x 2))

ALI: Neutral Good

REP: Mighty (+2 PRS)

Dwarves: Dwarf Friend.

Faerie: High Esteem

Rats: Awe, Allied

Orcs: Respect

Elves: Respect, Allied

Skills (Level):

Alchemy (10): This skill provides the player the ability to use recipes for the creation of potions and access to those recipes that require the Alchemy skill. In some cases, the skill level adds to the potion level to determine the efficacy of the brew.

Strength Potion (1): Allows the creation of Strength potions. Drinking a Strength potion gives the player +3 Strength for four (4) hours plus ten (10) minutes per level over one (1). Recipe automatically granted at level 2 Alchemy. Buff potions cannot be stacked with the same effect.

Intelligence Potion (1): Allows the creation of Intelligence potions. Drinking an Intelligence potion gives the player +3 Intelligence for four (4) hours plus ten (10) minutes per level over one (1). Recipe automatically granted at level 4 Alchemy. Buff potions cannot be stacked with the same effect.

Agility Potion (1): Allows the creation of Agility potions. Drinking an Agility potion gives the player +3 Agility for four (4) hours plus ten (10) minutes per level over one (1). Recipe automatically granted at level 6 Alchemy. Buff potions cannot be stacked with the same effect.

Mana Refresh Potion (1): Allows the creation of Mana Refresh potions. Drinking a Mana Refresh potion gives the player five (5) times their current base mana regeneration rate for ten (10) minutes plus ten seconds per level over one (1). Any other buffs for Mana regeneration are factored after the potion’s effects. Recipe automatically granted at level 8 Alchemy.

Superior Strength Potion (1): Allows the creation of Superior Strength potions. Drinking a Superior Strength potion gives the player +6 Strength for four (4) hours plus ten (10) minutes per level over one (1). Recipe automatically granted at level 10 Alchemy. Buff potions cannot be stacked with the same effect.

Blade Wind (2): Targets most vulnerable facing part of the opponent. Activating causes player to spin and gives a +10 to hit attack on the opponent. Player cannot be hit during the spin. Cool-down 30 seconds minus 1 second per Blade Wind level to a minimum of 10 seconds. Active. Skill automatically granted at level 3 Small Blade.

Climbing (3): Increases ability to successfully climb what would otherwise be an impossible vertical barrier! Each level adds .5% success chance per skill check, each point of AGI adds 1%. Active. 100 - Difficulty% + (Skill Level bonus + AGI bonus) = Success %

Cure Poison (1): Allows the creation of poison curing potions. Higher levels can cure more deadly poison. Active. Skill automatically granted at level 3 Herb Lore.

Healing Poultices (2): Allows the creation and application of healing poultices. Amount healed is dependent upon skill level. Active. Skill automatically granted at level 2 Herb Lore.

Herb Lore (4): Adds ability to detect and use valuable plants. Each level increases the amount of harvest as well as the detection range for the player by 1%. Passive

Hidden Stab (4): Increases damage done using a Small Blade while in Stealth. Passive. (STR+AGI) x .5 + (Small Blade Level + Hidden Stab Level) = Additional Damage. Removes player from Stealth.

Meditation (2): Increases the natural regeneration rate of Mana. The user must be completely still and silent to use the skill and the skill is disrupted if the user moves, speaks or receives damage (physical or magical). ((2 + (Meditation Level x .1)) x Base Regeneration Rate = Regeneration Rate. Cool-down 10 minutes minus 10 seconds per level. Active.

Small Blade (5): Gives to-hit and damage bonuses when using a knife or short sword. Passive.

Sorcery (5): This profession skill gives access to specific spells. The player’s Sorcery level adds to the spell level in some cases, as well as helping to determine amount of mana. Spells success depends upon relative relationship between Sorcery level and spell level. If Sorcery Level < Spell Level Then Success % = RND - Spell Level + Sorcery Level.

Stealth (3+4): Lowers the detection likelihood and radius of the player. Each level removes 1.5% of radius, multiplied by player’s AGI. Separate checks are made for visual and aural radii, each based on several environmental variables. Each level allows for 10 seconds of stealthy movement. Cool-down 10 minutes. Active.

Abilities:

Highlander: +1 AGI. +1 Climbing. +10 PRS with other Highlanders.

Magus: +2 INT +1 Meditation +1 Sorcery +1 Illumination

Druidism: Can enshrine holy sites at sacred trees (or facsimiles) that can be used to bind. +1 Rep with Faerie.

Items:

Clandestine Slippers: Provides wearer level 7 Stealth. Does not stack with skill levels, but will stack with other Clandestine items. A full suit of Clandestine gear provides a +4 Stealth bonus in addition to the stacking effects. Rare. Item 3 of 4 for suit.

Baen Si’s Cloak: Provides wearer +10% magic resistance. Once per day, has 25% chance of completely negating one (1) magical attack. Uncommon. Modified to provide +1 INT.

Cowl of the Wolf: Provides visual camouflage in similarly colored environments, as well as infra-red cover in all environments. Reduces species aggression from Canis Arcturus to neutral. Unique. Bound.

Shepherd’s Bite: Provides upon successful attack a 50% chance of inflicting poison damage for 1d4 damage per (1d6 + Small Blade level) seconds. All poison damage is applied to attacker as healing at 1:1.

Sack of Herbs: Each herb or natural magical reagent placed within this bag gets ten uses. Rare.

Spellbook: Contains all of the spells that the owner has learned. Bound.

Illumination (3): Lights the area around the caster until the spell is canceled. Area is a sphere centered on the caster whose maximum size is determined by the spell level (3 meters plus .5 meter per level to a maximum size of 20 meters). Caster can set maximum size upon casting. 05 Mana per cast. No cool-down.

Fire Shot (3): Sends a directed ball of flame up to five meters from the caster (plus 1 meter for every level). Maximum size of the ball is determined by the skill level of the caster. The fire can only ignite and damage flammable objects. Maximum size = ((Spell Level + Magic Level)) x .1 meter). Damage depends on flammability of object. Damage continues until flame is extinguished. 09 Mana per cast. No cool-down. Ingredients required: (1) Goat’s Rue, (1) Motherwort, (1) Mountain Mint.

Confer (10): Grants the spell-caster the ability to confer temporary non-magic skill to another player. The skill level granted is half of the current level of the spell-caster’s modified skill level. Duration is one (1) minute per Confer level or the natural duration limit for the skill at the conferred level, whichever is lower. Mana cost is one (1) per level of skill conferred, and skill level transferred is capped by user level or mana pool, whichever is lower. Restricted to Evening. Cool-down 1 hour.

Heal (3): Allows caster to heal another being within sight. Damage heals at a rate of one (1) hit point per level of spell skill per second. Mana is drained from caster at one-half the rate of damage healed. Cool-down 1 minute. Ingredients required: (1) Gotu Kola, (1) Goldenrod, (1) Yarrow.

Acknowledgments

Thank you. I really appreciate that you’ve read all of these books. I have fun writing them and hope that translates into fun for you.

I’d also like to thank the members of the LitRPG Reads and GameLit Society and LitRPG Books and RPG GameLit Society groups on Facebook, as well as the LitRPG Forum. They’ve been an awesome source of enthusiasm and feedback on these things, and the group continues to grow. Please join in the fun if you’d like to discuss, learn about, or hear release updates about the genre. I’d also like to thank everyone who has ‘liked’ my Omegaverse page or befriended me on my GR Cooper page.

~~~

I often get asked if I'm going to keep all of the Omegaverse series in Kindle Unlimited.

Short answer - yes.

I like the *idea* of KU. A lot. Enough that I'm willing to put up with the problems. Getting paid by the page is fine. I lose money compared to a sale, but I'm willing to eat that.

What bothers me, though, about the per page payment rate is that it gives incentives to Amazon to undercut the page count of novels. My first three novels are, according to Amazon, 170, 180 and 200 pages long. That's low by at least 50 pages for the first two, even more for the third - but we'll go ahead and assume they're accurate for this example.

The Omnibus edition is *literally* the three files for each of the first three novels pasted into one single file. That's it - I created a new 'title' in my writing software and copied each file into it.

The Omnibus edition of the first three Omegaverse novels is listed - by Amazon - at 440 pages.

170+180+200 = 550 pages.

Amazon is leaving out half of one entire novel when they factor in how much they're going to pay me for a read of the Omnibus edition.

So I get why some authors only leave the first book or two of their series in KU and will only sell the rest. I get why some authors refuse to use KU at all.

But I'm still a fan of the concept if not the implementation. As long as no major changes occur in KU, I plan to leave all of my books in the program. I like that folks can read all they want for the price of a couple of novels a month.

I'm willing to support you in that.

I'd like you to support me as well.

If you've read, and enjoyed, the Omegaverse series in KU - leave reviews. It doesn't have to be much. It doesn't have to be insightful or provide critical feedback. Just leave a lot of stars and some nice words.

If even 10% of the folks who read my books in KU left a review, I'd have a thousand reviews per book.

Reviews matter. They not only help drive sales they open marketing doors - books with fewer than 500 reviews are pretty rarely accepted for marketing opportunities like Bookbub.

So there's the quid pro quo. I leave all of the Omegaverse series in Kindle Unlimited. I take the monetary hit. In exchange, you leave reviews.

Seems fair, right?

~~~

One note about the two ghost stories in this novel. The first was written for an anthology that will be released in the summer of 2018. It is based on a true story, in so far as I did have an imaginary friend (named Timmy - I changed it to Jimmy in this book because three different “Tim” references would have been even dumber than having two!), and I did overhear my four-and-a-half year old nephew muttering “No spooky stuff!” as he ran down to the basement to get a toy truck. Other than that, it was made up. Timmy didn’t die in a fire.

As far as I know.

The other story, where my friend Paul and I heard something upstairs in a remote Shenandoah valley farmhouse is true. Word for word.

As Wulfgar said - I have no idea what happened that weekend, and he never made a peep any of the other times I was there; but the story is one hundred percent true.

~~~

One last note. The books to which Soulcatcher was referring were the Black Company series by Glen Cook. Some of the best fantasy novels ever written. If you’ve never read them, do yourself a favor and move them to the top of your list. If you have read them, read them again, especially since a new Black Company novel was announced to be released in September 2018!

Corwin’s name is lifted from the Chronicles of Amber, by Roger Zelazny, and should be on your reading list along with the Black Company.

Rydra is taken from Babel-17 by Samuel R. Delany. Science-fiction, not fantasy, but a classic in any case.

The rest of the names are just names. Except Galad, he’s named after my sister’s dog and Schwartz which really is Shannon’s beloved black cat. RIP Galad and Schwartz.

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About the Author

G.R. Cooper has been a lot of things - retail clerk, construction foreman, tech support - but his career has been in developing online games. From Community Manager, to Producer, to Creative Director, and now, “Writer”.

His favorite, however, and what he still thinks of himself as, is as a Game Designer.