Jake, Junius, 30th 2104.

The last day had come. Doomsday.

The Armies of Chaos beneath banners of dark gods and foul spirits moved closer and closer. The territories north of the Grand Duchy had fallen. An armada supported the armies from the East and the crypts of lost kingdoms and fallen lands had been robbed to raise an army of the dead.

The forces of Law formed in three points. The Capital of Wisteria, Wisteria, on the plain overlooked by the Castle of Flowers and in the port city of Broken Rock. In every place they were out-numbered and in every important point in danger. Should the capital and royal family fall, the [Royal Knights] would become [Knights] and suffer a huge drop in morale. Given how much the Wisterian Army relied on their [Royal Knights] this alone would be devastating, but the rest of the army would also suffer a morale shock if this happened. Still, if the Castle of Flowers fell, the forces of the undead would be able to freely surge into the plain and ravage every home and farm still standing. If the armada broke through, it could sail up the canals and desecrate the churches and holy places of ten of the most prestigious orders that most players had joined.

Arguments ranged across the forums where players should be. Jake had no back up character and had bought a horse. While the roads lasted, reinforcements could go from any of the three points to the other in two minutes, despite the large area inside the triangle. He therefore joined a group of [Royal Men-At-Arms] dedicated to keeping away saboteurs or more esoteric methods of breaking the road.

“Anything happening with you?” John asked over their friend group channel. Another channel they were connected to was their high school group’s channel, though Jake doubted he would use it. Still, it was nice to be invited.

“Nope. So far we are just patrolling. I am thinking we aren’t going get away with this for long. Once something kicks off, patrols are going to have to get smaller.”

John was silent for a little while and then said, “So far there is no movement that can be seen from my position. I am currently co-leading a force of Wisteria [Pikemen] and refugee [Knights]. We are covering the army’s flank.”

Michael, joined the call and said, “I have my new main account, the [Sky Privateer] as a counter-boarder on the Aegis. We are hovering at high altitude above the Castle of Flowers and we don’t see anything either.”

“What is your first account doing?” Helen asked as she joined the call.

“I have him attached to a secondary legion at Wisteria. If they get into battle, I might set this one to auto-pilot here. Where are you?”

“I can’t be online for very long, so I am just setting my characters to guard or help in the Hospital of St. John in Wisteria.”

“Good plan. Do we know where anyone else is?” Jake added.

“My sister has, at my request,” Michael noted, “Placed her characters in the the general reserve. She doesn’t care what happens to them and is going on a date.”

If Jake had still been interested in her, that would have hurt. However, he had grown past that and perhaps more urgently had a date of his own tomorrow evening. Still, he was happy to hear that her characters were not just randomly dying in some out of the way village without being made useful. Every hand was needed.

“Bubba and the Sons of Jake are preparing to fight with the main army outside the walls of Wisteria. If driven back, they will try to fight in the city as long as possible. Travis is there, leading the cavalry.”

“Good to know. Anything else to report. Any big streamers we should avoid?” Jake asked as he rode slowly along.

“No, other than your old friend. He is scheduled to start streaming in half an hour. Probably going to be dealing with assassins for a while. Can’t believe he thinks that now is the time to try to carve out his own little empire.”

Jake gave a noise of agreement to John’s statement and then asked to clarify, “Do we know anyone else? Do we know anyone preparing to fight at sea?”

“I think the [Chronicler] is going to be working there. He hired like half of the forum to put up quests for him and he should be able to do some work there,” John said before laughing and saying, “Finally! They are coming for us. If I fall, I am not going to quit until I have used at least 100 new accounts.”

“Get them all,” Jake said as John dropped out. Jake wondered if Michael would say anything, but he did not. Jake turned on an audio book and waited as his horse followed along after the [Royal Men-at-Arms]. He wondered if they need to act in the next two hours or not. He was only signed up for thirty minutes and then he was going to the front that needed help most.

Suddenly, a small herd of deer crossed the road. The [Royal Men-At-Arms] kept riding at first, but the [Royal Game Warden] froze and then called out a warning. The formation halted and cleared weapons. There was a wailing cry and a group of figures walked out of the forest. At a gesture from their leader they all stepped into formation and snapped their heels together. At first glance they were midnight black. They wore suits, and obvious brandname watches, though Jake could not quite recall the brandname. From beneath ties, back pockets, sleeves and pant-legs were drawn weapons etched in bright red runes, that highlighted their unnaturally shiny skin. Reflective, but beneath that reflection it remained midnight.

“Ride them down!” Called out the formation’s commander.

The warriors and player characters rode forward at a trot, to maintain formation. The shadow-men were trying to spread out when they got rode through. They struck back, but other than a few bruises, their weapons proved ineffective against armored soldiers. One survived the charge and he tried to escape, but Jake called on the earth and the shadow man was held still until the [Royal Game Warden] could dismount and cut its throat.

“Evil creatures. They are usually released against the defenseless, the innocent and the old, to distract the army from the main battle and lower the morale. Curse all Empty Suits,” the [Royal Game Warden] opined.

Jake remained silent and once all were mounted the patrol resumed. Just when he was wondering if that would be the only attempt on this road, he noticed purple static against the sky. It seemed to shrink for a moment, but then it cascaded outward until it was a massive, rotating gyroscopic formation of crackling, discordant energies. It collapsed into itself, but in the collapse it tore open a hole into blackness. From this massive gash in the sky, modern passenger planes, conspicuously branded with the ‘Sidermark Five Star Travel’ insignia burst forth. The first flew out easily enough and crash landed in the nearby forest. Following closely came nine others, each marked for the company that had provided them. The impromptu gate was collapsing rapidly and the airplanes had to swerve wildly to get out. Two collided and were reduced into a fireball and shrapnel. The second to last lost a third of a wing and heavily impacted the ground. The last was mostly out when the gate ended and the plane was cleanly severed in half.

“We need reinforcements, I’ll blow my horn and warn the [Righteous King of Wisteria],” stated the [Royal Game Warden] with obvious concern as he removed his ram’s horn and blew it with force.

Jake muted the in-game information and called Travis.

“Yes,” Travis said in a clipped tone.

“Have you attacked yet?”

“No. The army is currently falling back into the town. The king wishes to conserve his forces. Morale is falling. I can’t stand to leave the field without striking a blow…”

“Good!” Jake exclaimed before explaining, “We need help. Ten planes full of enemies have just teleported in next to… next to the 87th milestone. Can you help us? My guess is that each of those planes has between 200 or 300 elite troops. Some crashed in the process of teleportation, but we aren’t enough to deal with them.”

Travis was silent for a moment before he said, “I will consult the king and Bubba. My cavalry squadron is most likely surplus to requirements at the moment and that is still a good position from which to conduct assistance to this point of the line.”

Two minutes later they had confirmation both in game and by calls that a force of two hundred mounted troops were coming. Travis led the first column, while a [Royal Knight Commander] led a secondary force. Travis calculated that the full force would be ready and present in 45 seconds.

However, the enemy had their own plans and waiting for the enemy was rendered no longer an option, when they saw the shadow men begin constructing an altar on the Blessed Road. Innocents were herded forward in a mass, while a group of fiends began chanting around the altar.

“We cannot stand idly by,” Jake sent to the [Royal Game Warden.]

“Aye. These foul things are more evil than mere poachers. Ride forward at a charge, maintain silence.”

They did not surprise the shadow-men. A formation of glistening, midnight black marble faces took up positions and from their coats they drew extended police style shock batons and awaited the charge. The horses balked at the crackling weapons and the charge became a crossing of weapons. Jake was forced to dismount and then he began cutting his way forward. The shadow-men were not Sturdy enough to resist his powerful blows and his bonuses allowed him to cut through two targets in the same movement, while his Judgement ability pinned attackers who thought themselves clever. Numbers were against him, but he was a duel-class max level character with superior gear. Defeating him would be costly.

The innocents were led to the altar and the fiends began chanting louder. Jake worked harder, but even though he was cutting down an Empty Suit with every blow, there were too many of them for him to even get to the fiends.

A horn blew.

Jake didn’t turn, but instead focused on cutting through the suits in front of him. For a moment he was surrounded and then the first column of cavalry crashed through the force. Travis led from the front, as always. In a moment they had swept through the whole of the suits and left most of them crushed or cut to pieces. Jake cut down his last opponent, cutting through the shock baton held up to parry and then turned. With a quick use of the controller, his character bound every remaining foe in place with vines, roots from grasses, fallen branches and mounds of dirt and even loose rocks. Some began to break free immediately, some entirely froze up, while others raged in their silent shouts. The six still living fiends, as though drawn by a compulsion, broke free and as a group moved towards Jake.

He smiled. He had prepared exactly for this kind of threat.

“Travis, have your men deal with the suits. I will handle the remaining fiends.”

“Understood.”

Jake moved his character forward at the run as fiends moved forward themselves. They began to hum a terrible and discordant noise and Jake noticed he was suffering an equivalent of -3 on his Speed stat. Unfortunate. He did not worry about it though. They sang harder, but even though he moved slowly, he moved. When he neared them, his blade glowing with cleansing fire, he swung. The fiends stepped back and jostled each other, weakening the effect of their song. Jake’s sword caught one in the head and it dropped into the ether, banished. The others raised their arms above their heads and prepared to make their own large attacks. Jake noticed this and stepped deeper into their range, swinging the sword in a wide arc.

The blade was fire as it severed arms, necks and shoulders. All three nearest fiends fell to pieces. The pieces dissolved into smoke and the world was a better place. The remaining one screeched and turned as though to flee. Jake threw his sword and was pleased when it speared the monster straight through the center mass. Then to ensure that he did not lose his sword he called on judgment again and held the fiend in place until he could rip it apart.

He turned and surveyed the battlefield. The [Royal Men-at-Arms] guarded the innocents. Both units of cavalry reinforcements were leaving down the road and forest was marked with hundred of empty, ruined suits and the smoke of a half dozen wrecked airplanes.

Just as he was going to comment on how easy the fight had been, Jake looked in fascinated horror, seeing the watches from all of the suits unlink and inch along the ground. They formed a pile and then sorted themselves out. Watch-straps maintained the outer form, while the watch chains extended out into the air and probed as though scenting for an enemy.

A notification suddenly popped up and with it Jake felt his trepidation levels rise.

Patron Quest; Vengeance for a Royal.

Aadvik Patel, Junius 30th, 2104.

Aadvik Patel, almost king of his own realm, led ten thousand screaming centaurs in a ride that none of them would forget. For the past few days they had fought almost unceasing waves of enemies, alone. No assistance from the Lawful forces and no allies anywhere else on the planet. Endless waves of orcs had fallen beneath their arrows, their charges had destroyed goblins by their teaming thousands and who could number the enemies crushed beneath their hoofs? Their patron, or rather their god, was far more powerful than the others, those envious beings and Aadvik could not help but chuckle at the fact that no matter how strong Chaotic forces became, his troops and followers remained unaffected. He was glad this would be over soon, but he would not stop before he had earned the crown.

Patron Quest; Royal Blood.

The final step to be taken on your quest is the accumulation of Royal Blood. This is the process by which all kings gain power. Defeat the previous family and kill at least three of their line and bring their blood to one of my altars.

Reward; Your territorial claims will be recognized and your faction will be added as a permanent part of the lore.

Aadvik had not read the quest on screen and he was pleased with the decision. There was something dark about the request, which he expected would turn off many of his followers, as they were not true believers. They didn’t have a channel that demanded these things. But he who would wear a crown had to be willing to take risks. So he would.

Now, he laughed and read messages and thanked donators as he and his growing army drove towards the battlefield at the rival capital of Wisteria. What a dumb name. Perhaps the lore around that would be changed after his actions today.

“Comrades! I have led you to battle. There are levels to be earned, treasures to be gathered and weapons unequalled in any of the other realms. Let’s go ***** ****** them!”

With a roar across the general channel, a mix of war cries and cacophony of expletives thrummed for a good few minutes. As army commander he was able to set the speed suggested for the army and he set this to what the game called a trot. Probably something to do with horses. But it did make the pictures more impressive. Centaurs by their thousands, armor glistening, weapons prepared, feathers and flag fluttering, gifs from today would mark the internet for the rest of time.

At his command then they began to run forward. The armies of Chaos had started their attack on the city and had already broken through, but this was insufficient for their goals. Three tribes of orcs stood between them and the city. Three tribes of orcs would fall.

“Bows!”

At his command the non-playing characters that had joined his cause all drew out their bows, while the players listening to the channel did so a few seconds later. It didn’t matter. They weren’t doing ordered volleys. Just raining arrows.

The orcs were startled and confused at the attack, but before they could turn the centaurs were among them. The orcs were trampled beneath the hooves in their scores, while lances, chanted attacks and swords broke through.

“Now chat, some of you have been saying that cavalry is bad for taking cities. I am going to show you why that doesn’t ***** matter. Because while riding the plains, I found something.”

He took out the book titled, “Forbidden Knowledge.”

The formation stopped beside him and then he opened the book. An overwhelming song, sung by ancient giants, came forth and with it destruction. The walls of Wisteria, two or three hundred feet in either direction, began to shiver. From where his character stood, Aadvik could see the individual bricks shaking. Figures on the wall fled, but they would not escape. Plaster and enchantments on the wall failed. Bricks shattered. The walls collapsed.

He turned the page and the song of the giants intensified. Most of it was far too deep to be understood. At first nothing happened, but then the collapsed stones were crushed and returned to fragments and powder, as though giants with hammers had been turned loose. Again and again this continued.

Arrows and crossbow bolts began to come towards him and burned through the various consumables he had collected. Defensive treasures, corporate watches and buffs melted away. He was helpless in the moment, but he had to complete the plan. He turned the page again.

A choir of high a screeching voices come out loud and grating. But from their magic came a wind, sharp and acrid. The dust of the ruined wall became a cloud of death. The fragments of the walls became an attack.

He had created a path to the palace itself.

Xavier Steele, Junius 30th, 2104.

The water was still. The last of their navy had perished. Six triremes against an armada was not enough to hit them, but they had slowed the enemy down. What was it the historian said?

“Master, be not thou grieved, nor feel great trouble on account of this thing which has come to pass; for it is not upon a contest of timbers that all our fortunes depend, but of men and of horses.”

Xavier snorted. He had still not gotten around to finishing the series from the ancient historian, but he didn’t think he would. Too many bad memories.

He cleared his mind of those thoughts and focused on his character. His previously unremarkable old man character now looked like it had been chiseled out of marble and had the stats to back it. He had a character capable of fighting on the frontlines or in any role, effective 24 in all stats was insanely good, but he was still not used to it, or willing to risk his character in a melee.

It bothered him a little bit. He had to wait to be useful, but he had no doubt that he would be useful. The records his team had gathered made him one of the most dangerous characters here. The world of men may fall, but while he could still draw breath, it wouldn’t be easy for the enemy.

“Could I have a moment of your time?” A figure asked as he joined the call.

“Yes, who are you?” Xavier asked hesitantly. He had a fairly good record for avoiding pod-casters and social media clowns since the 7 podcasts and he wanted to keep that record in good order..

“Frank S, I write for a fairly obscure blog about the game. As a part time thing. I just heard you were here and wanted to say hi.”

Xavier nodded and then said, “Well hi to you too. How do you feel about our odds?”

“I get the idea that there is something happening as a deep-strike, behind us, but I think we should be able to hold out till evening. I am hoping to personally last until midnight. See it through to the end.”

“Well, Frank, I don’t think I can last that long. I expect somebody on the other side will come over and stab me, but first I am planning to take out their leader.”

A horn sounded and they both moved to the edge of the battlements. A forest of masts covered the horizon and thousands of orcs chanted a battle hymn of protection, while cultists performed blood sacrifices on their decks. Xavier waited a second more and then spoke against their leader, a mound of flesh, a giant whose belly distended far from his throne.

“[Lord of Sloth] I present my case against you, your father’s and all that you stand for.”

He then read through the game notes, flicking through the mini-game as best as he could with all of his focus and hoped against hope that it would matter. Crime after crime was listed, the acts of injustice that expanded under his horrible leadership, the crimes he had looked upon and done nothing about, the evils he had been too lazy to stop. Each listed, brought from catalogue and read out in orderly manner, demanding that nature ignore his defenses and take their toll directly on him.

The [Lord of Sloth] noticed the attack, but only leaned back in his chair to get a better angle. His [Wizards] and [Multi-Robed Choir members] came forward and sang songs of warding, while archers began to bend the bow against him. Xavier remained resolute. The wards didn’t matter. The arrows fell, but due to the range they fell short.

Xavier finished his list. Air suddenly was stolen from the sails of the fleet. They crawled to a stop as the air bound the [Lord of Sloth] and dragged him through the tubs of ice cream and mixed wrapping around his throne into the air. Then he was flung about, above the entire fleet. He had armor far stronger than most, but it meant nothing as he was flung about and torn by crosswinds. Rotations, spins, drops, hard pulls or sudden shields formed and dissolving g edges across the sky as the [Chronicler]’s record was met out. The [Lord of Sloth] was finally torn to pieces and scattered to the wind.

“You know, before my second class, that would have been all I could do,” Xavier said conversationally, before he began speaking against the ships themselves.

Frank, the obscure blog writer, could only stare on silently as the battle began in earnest and the doom of the fleet was announced. Lists of slaves and prisoners of war who had been worked to death for the construction were remembered and spoken. The names of the captains noted. The deeds they had proclaimed they would do before they sailed. All these were leveled against them. Their pride was judged and the world itself found their pride unfounded. Water rose as great whips or lances. Ships were swept with cutting water or pulled beneath the waves, while lances pierced and tore.

“Now that is just about my limit,” Xavier said as he stepped back.

Frank excitedly said, “That should entirely change this battlefield!”

“Not really. We only had the records for a quarter of the fleet. A lot of their older ships were stolen and repainted before we could determine their origin. Besides, most of those orcs can swim. They will need to be met in the water.”

A roar shook the heavens and from the sun descended a massive shape. A brightly feathered serpent, came on rapidly. It roared again, drowning out songs and chants of both sides. The noise gave most combatants an instance of Dragon Fear and broke windows by the scores. Orcs and goblins that had been frozen with fear drowned in the bay, while the battlefield was left almost silent.

“My master will give me my freedom, if you I eat, son of the created,” the dragon said as it hovered above the ground and licked its chops.

Xavier angled his character and started trying to think through what he could do. He had memorized all the major dragon types, for what good it did him. This was a breed of dragon undocumented in this world, which meant that someone on the other side had been reserving it just for him. That sort of made you feel something, but it did not cover the overwhelming worry that came with the sight of the dragon in front of him.

“Perhaps we could come to an understanding? Why not tell me your master’s name, so that I could break his control over you?” Xavier asked trying to let his energy recover.

“My own thought exactly; however my master has had the same thought and I am compelled not to give it to you by speech, spell, song or writing. It is a stronger compulsion than that which would make me eat you, for my master is not a foolish man.”

“Would you tell me your name?” Xavier asked hoping some knight would appear.

“No. You will come to know it well, when your component parts my cells enrich. Have you no great protector or treasure for me make my hoard?”

Xavier’s eyes flashed as he realized that not only had his opponent been hidden, there was a high probability that the creature had been built directly for this battle. A dragon of this size with no hoard? Unlikely.

“Dragon, a wager.”

Both Xavier and the dragon a turned to look at the nervous blogger Frank.

“What is your wager? You have the scent of a burned flesh about you. Have you dealt with my kin before?” The dragon asked in a purr as it landed heavily on the balcony and coiled like a massive rattlesnake, before lifting its feathered head to look closely over Frank’s character.

“Not directly. I am something of an explorer. In my explorations I have discovered a treasure that could be foundational to a young dragon’s hoard.”

The dragon half snorted and half chuckled, “Where on this material plane could you find something that would interest me?”

“Here and there one find’s treasures. I found the Blue Magic Stone,” and with those words the obscure blogger opened his inventory to reveal the stone. In a moment the dragon’s eyes had grown very dark. It coveted. All of its being demanded that it receive the stone.

“What stops me from simply taking the stone?” The dragon asked as the stone returned to its inventory.

“My class. It sends any objects in my inventory into the void between stars, in the advent of my death.”

The dragon fumed, “You speak the truth! Who would learn such a skill!”

Xavier smirked as Frank ignored the question and said, “Would you hear my wager?”

“Yes!”

“If you can endure me running up your length, from tail to snout three times, the stone is yours. Should you move or express yourself at all, the stone is forfeit.”

“From tail to snout…” the dragon pondered aloud and then it smiled a sickeningly sweet smile, “Yes, of course. I will not bind myself to silence. Nor will you strike me or sing against me or mock me. Nor will you dirty my feathers with your boots. Remove them and by these things we will be bound. I do not mind chasing the little [Chronicler] after earning a trinket.”

With a jolt Xavier realized what the plan was and with a word of thanks to Frank, he ran off. He could still make another judgement if he hurried.

Jake, Junius, 30th 2104.

Jake burst into the palace garden’s back entrance and saw a horrible sight. The once beautiful gardens were wrecked by centaur hooves. Broken bodies of [Royal Guards], [Royal Knights] and [Trusted Maids] were mixed with the dead centaurs. A centaur priest stood, corrupting the altar with rapid and practiced steps, while the king’s three surviving children were held by evil beings. His target of judgment though stood a little off to one-side.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked over the challenge channel as he came into range.

“What do all who would be king do? Destroy the previous order and come to power. There is no other way. I will remake Wisteria into a righteous kingdom, that favors all rather than the old nobility. Now chat, where was I. Yeah, so we are going to take a break, because I need to sort out some things… Catch you in an hour.”

The half centaur then turned himself around and walked between Jake and the altar while saying, “We wouldn’t want you to say something we would both regret.”

“You are going sacrifice children to your chaotic god aren’t you?”

The half-centaur looked behind him and said, “It does look that way doesn’t it? Strange what happens on the pathway to power, isn’t it. What does it matter though, it is just a game? Like, their just pixels.”

“Were the hundreds of player accounts you killed just pixels?”

The half centaur settled into a new stance and he said, “I guess it doesn’t matter. It is not like you are better than me. We are both fighting for what we think is right. Isn’t that enough.”

Jake dismounted and drew his sword, “How is that any different from what a lord of chaos would say?”

“A fair point. We are all the same. Law and Chaos are just two sides of the same coin. In the end, there is only power and money. Which is why, this fight will be recorded without sound. I get the feeling you are going to try and put me in a bad light ”

Jake shook his head and wondered if his voice had really changed enough that the streamer could not recognize him.

“There is a difference, but from where you are standing, I don’t think you can see it.”

Bubba, Junius, 30th 2104.

Things were going badly in Wisteria. The centaur attack and siege magic had rendered the entire left half of the city a warren of street fighting. The palace had lost all of the youngest royals to the centaurs, probably to conduct a dark ritual. The poorest districts of the city were being attacked by waves of shadow-men, abominations and constructs. The sewers had burst forth with waves of rats and hordes of cultists.

Now the orcs in front of them were falling back and that was concerning. Things were coming forward.

“Are those… dinosaurs?” One of his lieutenants asked.

“No, they are Rusticus Apatosaurus. Called by the commoners, Metal Eaters. When something made of metal comes near them, the natural rust of the world is increased and one soon finds themselves without armor, sword or belt and the britches about the knees,” the non-player scholar said with some bite.

“Have the men fall back to the Antonio Keep,” Bubba said as he looked over the five dinosaurs and shed his clothing except for boots and a simple shirt.

“Uh, what are you doing?” One of his lieutenants asked.

Bubba opened his inventory and pulled out a set of beads and bracelets and a belt.

“I am getting ready to fight the Rusters. So, no metal that can rust. Only bronze.”

“They are not showing up as spots of corruption,” the lieutenant said as he checked his notes and said, “How are you going to damage them?”

“Watch.”

Bubba finished putting his jewelry into place and enjoyed the growth of two categories. He then drank a ‘potion of greater engianting’, and grew a third category. His sword had grown the first two categories with him, but the last step was too much for it and it now fit in his massive hand as a knife.

“I figured out this combination as a last resort for a few things. Please keep down their arrow fire,” Bubba said as he ran across the ground.

Giants in fiction were usually depicted as slow and stupid. Really only scary because they could throw rocks the size of cars and being sort of angry. But what if they weren’t that way? What if giants were just as smart as people and allowed to fight on an open field, instead of some place too short and too small for them?

The Metal Eaters stopped and stared at something charging them. They revealed their teeth, but Bubba did not care. He could not do fancy things, not with one hand on his controller. But he didn’t need to do fancy things. He paused his run, and drew the [Blade of Mars] back in a simple cut. He let it fall. With a sliding noise it struck just behind the monster’s head and severed it. The monster slumped to the ground. He turned and made another such stroke. It failed to sever the head and the monster screamed and hissed. He made the attack again. There was no art, no finesse and there was no need of them. A shield revealed itself and threw arrows away from him as his actions drew fire. He turned and bent his blade badly out of shape and damaged the next monster. He grabbed, taking advantage of his size and threw it heavily into the ground. The monsters were gaping at him, their eyes showing their fear. The monsters were unused to something bigger than them, slashing through their ranks, throwing them around bodily. So, with loud squeaking shrieks they ran off at an angle. Bubba managed to pull his bent sword free as they tried to flee.

Bubba sheathed his weapon and retreated from the arrows. The potion wouldn’t last very long and he needed to get back into his usual gear. He could only smirk as he heard the noises of distress among the dark knights as their armor was melted around them by the Metal Eaters running through and ruining their steel.

Jake, Junius, 30th 2104.

Jake assumed the high guard stance. His opponent was powerful and not alone, but as expected, he was arrogant and wanted to personally deal with a challenger. Jake was unsurprised when the book of forbidden knowledge came out. The streamer had no concept of a fair fight. Jake did and he would have preferred it, but since he saw that was off the table, he began his attack. This was not to be clash of champions of ideals, but the implementation of Justice.

The half-centaur opened the book as it tried to run in a circle around him. Jake, relying on his patron, judged it and the world listened. The front hoof was caught by a tight group of shrubbery and rocks. The leg made a sickening snap and the half-centaur was flung forward into a patch of thorn trees.

Jake spared no action but stepped forward relying on his patron’s speed. With a decisive blow he broke or severed arms, even as they reached out for the book. Fire followed his next blow and he destroyed the fallen opponent.

“What is your problem dude! I was this close to winning!” Came the irate voice of the streamer.

“Aren’t you the one who said it is just a game?” Jake asked as he turned and began running down the true centaurs. A [Royal Knight] had joined him and was guarding the surviving royals. Jake’s sword and combined classes made it quite possible.

The streamer vented in a language Jake did not recognize, but he had no doubt that it was cursing. Uninterested in learning, he blocked the streamer and escorted the [Royal Knight] and his royal charges back to the castle. Reports he had heard mentioned that Chaotic beings were being brought back and he had no doubt that the half-centaur would be back at least once more.

“Go back to your division soldier, my charges are safe,” the [Royal Knight] said suddenly.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Jake looked over the palace’s damage, but he saw the [Royal Guards] and decided that this was for the best. He nodded and then typed out a goodbye as he raced off. He mounted his horse and slowed down. The horse was not for speed, but for keeping his stamina levels in line.

An alert flashed and he growled as he turned his horse away from the wall and rode off.

Landfall.

The sea peoples have made landfall in the city of Broken Stone. All Law-aligned characters from this server-world will suffer a morale check as this news spreads.

Bubba, Junius, 30th 2014.

Bubba paused his directing to remove the annoying popup. That was frustrating as the majority of the defenders here were not player guided characters. There was a very good chance there would be a mass rout in the next five minutes unless the Lawful troops could get a major win.

“Sir, the enemy are sending forward elves.”

Bubba fought the urge to curse as he looked over the wall one last time and then stepped into the reinforced command tower. There were between 150 to 200 elves in front of them. That was worth a division of almost any other kind of troops and even a week ago, Bubba would have found this a no-win situation. But he had done the reading and had he not been there, his command staff would have been able to do this.

“Have the troops fall back to the town. Opened the supply bags 45 through 200 and deploy them in a grid pattern. Inform the F Choir they are on rest and E Choir that they are up for the next song.”

“Understood, so full-send on the anti-elf strat?”

“That is correct.”

The troops quickly fell back from the walls and took up barricade positions before the elves had even crossed the field. [Chanters] worked on raising morale, fixing injuries or other necessary tasks. The orderly movement kept the fallback from being a mass rout and the lack of casualties from elven archery kept morale at merely bad, instead of catastrophic.

The elves came over the walls. Bubba felt the tower shake as the elves noted his position and began firing explosive arrows into the wall. He didn’t know if the tower could deal with this, but it wasn’t like he could outrun the archers. So he waited.

“E Choir has started the song.”

“Acknowledged,” Bubba said as he hoped someone was recording this.

The explosions continued for a few moments and then stopped. He stepped out and looked down. The elves were all screaming, running around wildly and utterly disorganized. It did no good as the iron filings orbiting each of them struck random portions at intervals.

“Put them out of their misery.”

A group of [Knights] came over at a gallop and made short work of the distracted, unarmored light troops.

“I hope someone has a replay of that,” Bubba said as the knights worked. With each killed the swarms of iron grew denser around the survivors and before the targeted elves could all be cut down by swords, the sheer density of the iron overwhelmed them. Then the iron filings settled into a pile.

“Inform V Choir that they are up. My congratulations to the E Choir for Excellent work. If you put that in writing capitalize the ‘e.’”

His current assistant half chuckled at that and sent out the orders, while Bubba directed the troops back up onto the wall. He ignored the notification that popped up until he was sure that the wall was ready to stand off the abominations that were unleashed next.

Overseer of Execution. (Copper)

You have organized the elimination of a chaotic race. If attempting to intimidate other chaotic races +3. The troops who did the fighting gain a variation of this title and a bonus appropriate to their specialization.

Frank the Obscure Blogger, Junius, 30th 2104.

The bargain had been made and the pact formed. The dragon waited until he had removed his shoes and then stretched itself to full length. Frank stepped onto the dragon’s nose and looked into its eyes. They were soulless. A creature of greed and fire. He ran down the feathered serpent’s head and ignored its boasts. He reached the tail and ran back.

“That is one. I have not felt anything.”

Frank checked his damage log and sure enough, his fully upgraded title had been inflicting true damage. Given the dragon’s resistances, nothing else he had could get through and true damage apparently didn’t have a pain component. The dragon of course sensed something was wrong, but it had no doubt thought that it could escape whatever silent song the nobody on its back was trying.

Frank then changed speeds and used the [Slow Walk] skill he had learned while trying to pick up a Martial Art. He had failed to get the art. He was not very good at complicated controller functions, but he had gotten that. Each step was short and slowly taken, bearing full intent.

“What is this?” The dragon demanded in dismay at the slow pace Frank was using.

“I am fulfilling my part of the pact. Are you so impatient that you would break it and lose the option of the Blue Magic Stone?”

The dragon growled and returned its head flat on the ground, sulking. Frank maintained his slow walk for the second circuit and started the third. Minutes had passed. This was likely the longest the dragon had ever gone without moving and from the use of [Subtle Inspect] it had lost about what he had expected. The dragon was 100 feet long and his stride averaged 27 inches. This had been shortened to 20 inches for his slow walk. This, as calculated, had meant that he would inflict 2520 true damage from stepping on the dragon. Given how damage points worked, that would be insufficient for the full 3000 points necessary to kill it and he wanted to kill it. Oh wait… He had the [The Explorer of Burned Places] title’s percentile damage against dragons… So he was running closer 2880. This could work!

The dragon’s sense of anger grew at being delayed from its prize and Frank wondered if running with small steps would have been better. He also wondered how soft the feathers were. Could you make a dragon feather pillow? Would that work? That might be worth an article.

“Per the terms of our agreement, I am due the Blue Magic Stone.”

“True enough,” Frank said as he stepped onto the ground in front of its snout and produced the object.

The dragon reached out its short clawed foot and took the object. It gleamed in its eyes and for a full ten seconds it gazed into the blue. Then with a crack, it tore hole in space and placed the rock into the inventory. Then it turned and looked Frank over.

“It is rare that one who plays a nasty trick on me stays so long afterwards.”

Frank nodded and said, “True. But you have won our little wager and I can’t leave a loser.”

The dragon puffed its quills at this and said, “Another wager? Do you think you can protect your [Chronicler] for ever? I am not a fool.”

“These two wagers will be quick. I respect as valuable my customer’s time,” Frank said in his best sales voice.

“I sense that the second part of your statement is false, but say on. What rewards are too be gained?”

The explorer showed two items. A collar of inverted mystical attractions and a Red Magic Stone.

“You have a wager and by the same oaths I so swear,” The dragon said eagerly, “For which do we wager first?”

“The collar.”

“A powerful item. What proof do you go for?”

“That I can run around you, before you can count to 100.”

The dragon snorted and said, “Did you read a book of games for children? Where are the epic riddles and feats of strength?”

Frank bowed and said, “You see what I have to work with. Do I have the look of someone who could trade riddles with a grand dragon such as yourself?”

The dragon’s feathers puffed with pride and it relaxed and said, “Are you in position?”

“Yes!”

The dragon began counting. Frank ran forward full speed and stepped on the dragon’s foreleg. His exalted title and second skill activated and the dragon’s counting was disrupted as [Painful Shriek] was forced out. The dragon’s call briefly swept the town with an instance of Dragon’s Fear. [Stolen Grace] also activated and Frank couldn’t help, but smile.

“What was that?”

The dragon was confused and said, “My feet are sensitive? Wait! Why are you running?”

The dragon let out another shriek and then said “Ouch! Since when do my feet hurt this much, I am not counting why are you running?”

“No terms were put in place about me needing to avoid your feet.”

Frank did not push it though and avoided the last two feet and came in slightly before the hundred. He just needed to do 122 damage and he had just the plan. The dragon fumed, but it wanted the next wager.

“You said earlier you prefer strength. How about we test it directly. You make your strongest attack that you can and then if I survive it, I will make my strongest attack.”

“What! Do you have a death wish? No one could survive my strongest attack?”

“Perhaps? Think of the glory that I could win though!” Frank said as he prepared.

“How will I get at the gem though? It would be sent to the void in the event of your death.”

Frank nodded and removed the gem from his inventory and let the light catch it, before saying, “I’ll hold it off to one side.”

The dragon considered and said, “Oh I see. You want to say that you took my strongest attack, but by holding the gem, I cannot unleash my strongest attack. Fine, I will make my attack.”

Frank used the favor he had borrowed from a Patron of Prudence.

[Moment of Patient Safety.]

You may trigger a moment of complete invulnerability to all sources of hostile damage (not environmental damage). This is powered by your patron and he will only allow you to trigger this again if you have demonstrated good and prudent judgement in your application.

A lance of flaming acid, aimed just off his center mass to keep it further from the prize in his left hand, spattered against his chest and surged. Frank had no grounding skill and was flung backward in a double cartwheel, before he hit the edge of the building. Over 50% of his hit points had been removed, but only from crashing into the building and the cobblestones. The acid and the flames had only damaged his clothes.

“Impressive!”

Frank walked forward and kept the Red Magic Stone out where the dragon could see it. The dragon ignored everything else as it watched the wealth getting closer. Five legendary potions later and the dragon noticed something was off. Frank continued and drank two more.

“You smell… incorrect. You may well blow up before you strike me.”

“To make this strike do anything, I must take risks.”

The dragon snorted burning liquids and said, “Give me your best hit and then I can end this charade.”

The dragon let its head rest comfortably against the ground and closed its eyes. It was not so bold as to think Frank’s upraised stick could not score a hit against an opened eye, which was most convenient. Frank stepped back and then sprinted forward. As he moved, all of the potions came into effect. Short term growth, attack speed, damage reduction ignoring, weight shifted to striking point, optimization, elemental suppression, class bonus heightening and one to hold all of the effects together, at least until the strike landed. Over 80 ruins had been explored to gather those potions and his character had almost started melting before the attack landed. That is, he made an awkward jump and landed on the serpent’s head, heels first.

The dragon’s eyes popped open. Something was dreadfully wrong. It had taken massive damage with one strike. Somehow it was still alive with 2 health points left; it needed to leave to recover, to escape this trickery. The stick fell and the dragon perished.

“Now… what treasures do you have?” Frank asked as he began studying the feathers more closely. He ignored the dragon’s small hoard as it fell back out of the personal space behind it’s head. He couldn’t do anything with magic stones of different colors unless he had the full set and he did not. What he could do though was make the only pillow ever made from a feathered serpent and then write about it on his blog. That would do numbers.

Michael, Junius, 30th 2104.

The ship bucked again and Michael turned. The improvised boarding torpedo had made it through their screen of defensive fire. It was the third. And he continued to be thankful that he had avoided where it hit. The blunt steel head had torn through two walkways this time and the mix of goblins, skeletons and cultists were already pouring out.

Michael moved his character at a fast walk, with a sort of bounce. He had not expected to enjoy this so much, but it was a nice change from fighting in the shield wall. When the ship was captured or destroyed, he would be happy to fight in the shield wall, but until then, he was going to do what he could up here.

A howl went up and Michael interestedly inspected the new creatures coming up. He couldn’t really see them beneath their heavy black cloaks.

Unnatural Life Experiment 10.

Despite being freed from the control of the gray extra-planetaries, these creatures have embraced Chaos. They resent the reality as it is and wish to force it to march their dark and twisted wills. Very good at hacking, painting runes of chaotic effect and prefer looking down on their allies to true friendship. They have very little self control.

The cloaks fell away and Michael snorted. They were basically people, except their eyes glowed an unsettling purple or a sickly yellow. Most of them ran forward screaming in a language Michael made no effort to understand as he traded blows. Or rather he made attacks and dodged or parried easily with his superior stats.

Weirdly, a group of them had hacked into a food replicator. Within a few minutes they were synthesizing a mix combinations. One after another they stuffed their arms with a needle and then gobbled down pound after pound of obviously unhealthy slop. Those fighting Michael’s character who could still disengage did so and ran for the synthesizer. After their injections their eyes grew far too large and their stares became vacant. Then it was a mad scramble to devour as much as possible. It went past bounds. It was no longer mere gluttony.

Michael was forced to refocus on the fight and kill the last two in front of him after one managed to land a hit and he took some damage. The remaining monsters worked the machine until it ran out of energy or batter. Michael could not tell which had happened first. The monsters, no longer even human looking, continued to feverishly beat on the machine, screeching for a substance no longer available.

He studied their stats, but they had not entered some more powerful second stage. They were weakened by their unhealthy actions. There was no advantage. But further studying revealed that while their masters were dead, their evil lived on.

Permanent Status Effect; Slave to the Replicated Spice.

Permanent Status Effect; Devouring Slave.

Eventually, they started to waddle towards him and Michael felt he really was freeing them in someway, as they fell beneath his sword. He wondered how different things would have been if he had something like that happen to him. Or had something like that happened to him, without him even knowing? Was some part of his mentality a chain that bound him to something?

He danced freely around and spilt another arm from a body. He ignored the pop-up and rotated for a third time and dropped another. He stepped back and into a low guard. Ignoring the blade, one still tried to grapple him, but halfway up the blade they went limp. Another turned back and went to the empty machine and rattled it for the rest of the fight. Michael was pleased to be able to finish it with a single blow.

Michael leaned back from his controller and stretched a few times before typing out a status check to the rest of people on this side of the ship. Two other guards had lost their characters. One crushed by a boarding torpedo and another killed by the dying curse of a [Dark Cultist] which meant that at least a few players had gone over to Chaos. Fortunately, all reports said that the ship had repelled all boarders.

“All hands, be advised, we are being aimed at by over one hundred squadrons of skeleton archers. They seem to be under the delusion that we have not improved the lower deck armor.. Prepare for the strafing run.”

Michael’s previous contemplative mood disappeared in a flash of excitement as his heart set to pumping. The extra-planetaries viewed their role in battle as a high altitude gunship. They had not committed heavily enough to this role and suffered heavy casualties. Their laser batteries had been optimized for it, but a few of the engineers on the forums had read through the recovered documents and optimized the laser batteries for close action. Then as many Campers as could be convinced to help had forged adamantine paving stones and then helped solder them to the interior. The glory of an engine meant for light speed travel was that more than quadrupling the weight didn’t really hurt performance.

“We are descending towards the main division. Anti-boarders, I advise you get where you can see!”

Michael got his character into position and it felt like a the moment on the world’s highest roller coaster. Very, very high above the ground. The ship seemingly unmoving. Then the engine went silent and the nose tippd downwards. The steel triangle sank slowly, but then it gained speed. The air roared through the places where torpedoes had cut gaping holes into the spaceship’s exterior. Sheets of metal and plastic were torn away by the wind as they reached higher speed. The engines went on and they were suddenly going faster. Michael’s character had merely been holding on, and failed a strength check. He was flung up the passage and hit into a padded section near the end of the hallway. He still lost over half his hit points. His character nearly lost consciousness, the screen auto-darkening to nearly nothing when it came to nearly full effect. The ship stopped moving and the call came, “Watch the fireworks!”

Michael wasn’t stunned, even if his character was, so he was able to get into a position to watch. The inertial dampeners that were meant to be used in space were sufficient to cut a terminal velocity fall into virtually nothing, while thrusters kept the ship thirty feet above the ground, right above the middle of the undead division.

The Campers had done some work. The six long range laser cannons had been exchanged for 12 faster fire, high power, but very short range cannons. At ten thousand feet this had been a downgrade. At less than two hundred they had accuracy to spare. The lights were fired steadily and killed what they aimed at. The first few moments of surprise resulted in the death of hundreds of [dark priests], [necromancers], [witches] and other characters who intended to make a reputation by assisting the undead. Most had powerful defenses, but few could stand up to a beam of light meant to shatter ship’s hulls at over a planet’s length in distance.

A few seconds later the batteries shifted their fire and burned down the first [Amalgamation of Undeath.]

The laser fire kept working, cutting out anything that could think independently and utterly overkilling each target. The fire seared through and through almost anything on the field of battle. The occasional true defense from both light and kinetic effects were used and the leadership scattered. The force’s tidal wave like advance slowed and became less inevitable. [The King of the Undead] could still bring them under his command or force the tens of thousands in this division into battle, but without direct leadership, they would be extremely open to the interference of Patters.

“Anti-boarder team 4, we have a target of opportunity for you,” the executive officer suddenly stated and Michael sat straighter in his chair as he waited for orders. The fireworks were impressive. What did they need to go down for?

“Right, our [Intelligence Specialist] has had a class reveal that there is an item that gives a worldwide +5 hit-points to all undead. This doesn’t matter to most of us Fighters that much directly, but if the songs against undead can kill them quicker, that is a big deal.”

Michael didn’t want to work out the math, but given how many undead were down there, this was a big deal. Especially as he wasn’t doing anything anyway. Half of the team joined. The other half refused to risk their characters. Michael couldn’t exactly call them cowards, but he was not going to hold back.

“Prepare for [Low Orbital Drop.]”

“Do we really need to use it, we could just… jump out? We are not that high off the ground?”

The executive officer didn’t respond, but turned the noisey knob. A moment later the ship was three hundred feet above them and the wall of excess force that had launched them from the ship had pushed regiments of the undead into the ground or back by thousands of feet. The artifact was unattended.

“One Patter will need to deactivate it. The rest of you protect. We will get back into position to protect you, but it will take a minute. For some reason, the ship doesn’t like that mode of acceleration,” the captain said sourly.

“They needed the assist!!” The executive officer whined before the channel was changed.

The most advanced Patter placed his hand on it and announced to the good news, “I have the main bonus turned off. All undead are 5 hit points lower. It will take a minute to shift it, but once it is purified, all undead worldwide should take 1 damage per minute.”

The players cheered as they formed a loose circle around the object.

Then the counter attack began and Michael felt his heart rate pick up some more.

First Private Owen Matthews, Junius, 30th 2104.

The base was under lockdown as a drill. This was an important distinction as First Private Owen Matthews was technically not breaking more than ten regulations in accessing the internet and joining his fellow RedCoats. If he was caught, that might be important.

The recruiting sergeant had lied. It was not a life of glorious adventure, respect from the respectable and a fine way to make a life. Had he paid more attention in school he would have known this was something of a trend amongst recruiting sergeants, but that was borrowing trouble. If he had listened well in school he would have signed on when the rich man from the capital tried to get him into his campaign. He would probably have joined that man in the prison with the rest of his staff.

“Took you long enough! Where were you Owen?”

“Its a private’s right to run the reveille a bit closely. How goes the battle, Francis?”

Francis, the only name he knew his in game sergeant by, continued checking his musket and said, “The elf’s deception has hurt our reputation in the eyes of the major players. We are not near any of the major cities or points of the triangle. They have put us just behind a redoubt called A4. The enemy haven’t yet come at us, but they do have a nest of goblins, a lesser dragon skeleton and artillery in their trench.”

“So when they come, it will be something of a challenge. However, I am guessing our engineering friends did a good job and we should be safe. Yes?”

Francis laughed long and loud, to the point that Owen muted him and then typed, “Let me remind you, I am not encouraged to make noise by my landlords.”

Francis typed back an apology and was unmuted before relating the reason for his amusement, “In five minutes, after the review, we as company and unsupported are going to seize the enemy trenches.”

“What?” Owen said as he looked round, “Seize trenches without support? Has our commander gone soft in the head?”

“Not at all. The commander is picking up on the fact that the big players don’t like us. We were used to ambush some very important and well connected people and if our guild is to do well in the new world, we need to take a risk.”

“Fair enough. I suppose we ought to be ready for it.”

A whistle was blown four times and they quickly equipped the rest of the way, set their bear skin caps on their heads and joined the rest of their RedCoat Guild.

The captain greeted them from his horse. Not his usual horse he rode into battle, but his actual war horse. He smiled at them and then said, “Sorry chaps, but through that sorry bit of luck with the blasted knife-ears, we need to prove ourselves to high command. I am going to prove to them that we are right loyal and proper troops. Which of you will go into battle with me?”

Every man stepped forward but the captain shook his head and explained, “All of you have earned your shako and musket. I wouldn’t deprive you of those, even if you don’t wish to risk your character. The fellow you control is not getting another chance. So I won’t shame you for preserving him. I ask again, who wants to risk life, limb and 6 weeks to a year of your life’s work in a charge for the behest of nobles we have never met and a king who hasn’t ever awarded us anything.”

As one they stepped forward and and maintained arms. The captain muted himself for a few moments and then in a hard controlled voice said, “Color Sergeant, beside me. Drummer, play out the ‘The company march.’ All troops fall in.”

There was chatting on the private channels, but to the beat of the drum, slowly being empowered by the mixture of song and formation, the infantry followed their commander to the redoubt. Beyond the redoubt and the [Royal Troopers] guarding it with short bows and target shields, stood the space between the trenches. It had been wrecked by the charges of goblins, burning arrows and the work of higher magics. The grass was burned away, ruts in the mud formed and blast marks cutting through earth and stone alike made the whole place instantly dreary. The band’s fifes and drums ramped up. The commander removed his hat and placed it on his sword. Then he called for the troops to follow him. At a steady march, in a column of 5 across and roughly 8 deep, they advanced.

Goblin arrows slipped across the field, but they were ineffective The formation moved forward with a grinding and determined aggression. Halfway across the field, the goblin weapons proved effective and the color-bearer fell from his horse.

“The colors!” Came the cry from a dozen shaky, crackling microphones.

Private Owens almost cursed himself when he found himself holding the colors. He was not the man that anyone would have chosen to be the color bearer, but he was needed and he could do his duty. If only for the next dozen steps.

It turned out not be that long. His sergeant traded his halberd for the company flag and Private Owens was no longer worried he would be shot for the colors. Now he would be shot for no good reason. Alas, the fortunes of war.

Arrows and javelins splattered amongst them and four more were killed. Three yards from the trench line, their commander ordered the famous order, “Fire and then engage with steel! For Wisteria and the RedCoats!”

The cheer was echoed and as his sword fell the guns roared. Their formation and song united with the wall of lead and tore through the targets presented to them. Then it was up to bayonets and the clubbed muskets. Goblins fell, blasted through, cut down or run through with bayonets. A [Dark Mage] came out of a fox hole and raised a handful of fire to blast Francis, but Owen unclipped his bayonet and threw it into the hand. The humming from the [Dark Mage] ended and the magic fell back into the blade and the bayonet became a point of heat in a body not designed for that much heat. There was a screech and the [Dark Mage] fell to the ground. Owen stepped forward and struck the mage variant over the head and asked Francis, “Are you reloaded?”

“Not for another half hour! What is the chaplain doing?”

Owen turned to see where Francis was pointing and saw the chaplain perform a holy sign and then take his book and strike a goblin shrine. There was a shower of sparks and the shrine burst into a pillar of fire.

The commander, mounted on a new horse, arrows stuck into his coat, waving his sword, rode past and called, “On me! For Wisteria and the RedCoats!”

The cry was taken up and the battered force swarmed into the hill their commander had led them. There they met a breaking force of goblins trying to escape the undead young dragon skeleton that oversaw them.

“Concentrate fire on the bones! Gentlemen, [Rapid Fire!]”

As the commander’s skill kicked into effect, their muskets loaded much more readily and as soon as they were loaded, the musketeers raised their weapons to the shoulders aimed into the mass of green and bones, squeezed the trigger and then the cycle began again.

Out of the smoke a ruined undead flopped. Its teeth and skull dented and cracked, numerous ribs chipped and broken and magic fading. Still it roared out a challenge and then rushed forward.

“[Fix bayonets]” their officer said calmly and the front rank knelt and held up a bayoneted musket. The beastial monster’s speed was otherworldly. It rushed forward, seemingly ready to ignore the bayonets when the chaplain shouted out his skill, “For Three Transgressions and for Four!” The monster turned on its side and screamed out pain as its bones began to vibrate. A fire of holy light began behind its eyes, heart and at the stump of the tail. Its health bar plummeted. The chaplain quoted the rest of the passage and the fire consumed the entire skeleton.

The goblins that had been following the charge came and there was melee. Spears and bayonets plied the field. The captain used his sword as feverish madman, striking through heads, spears and bodies, his horse occasionally rearing up and bettering a green skin beneath its hooves. Owen lost sight of him as he was reminded of his lack of bayonet and reversed his musket to strike heads. After three exchanges, his musket’s stock had shattered and he had to return the damaged item to his shoulder. From his inventory he withdrew the sergeant’s halberd and held the line.

In a minute the fighting stopped. Half of the line had been killed. The captain and his horse were lost. The chaplain bled out before they could reach him, but the colors remained and the redoubt was captured.

The private looked away from his screen and surveyed his post. He didn’t see anything concerning outside and the patrol were not due till five minutes after midnight, when the server-world shut down. So he stayed at his post in game, until the end. Even from here he could see the end of fight at Broken Rock.

Michael, Junius 30th, 2104.

They had held for the minute, but extraction was not happening. The chaotic forces were focusing many and terrible songs against the space ship. It held, chiefly due to the engineers modifications, but the fight around it was becoming extremely close….

Michael wished his other character could be here. A shield, spear and full panoply was better suited to this kind of combat, but needs must. So here he stood, his sword working quickly between the undead, severing heads, arms and legs occasionally allowing a Patter to cleanse them to nothing, so that the relentless enemy did not slowly gain a height advantage.

Then the ground shook again and it was different than when the space ship scored a shot nearby.

He looked over the undead and noticed that his gained three instances of Giant’s Fear. He almost wondered if he was getting it through the controller. The giant thing coming forward had a health-bar that filled the screen, even a few hundred yards away and a score of massive giant guards. It dwarfed all of them. On its back was a massive banner, and in three languages (which the game helpfully translated) it spelled the word ‘Despair.’

When the space ship fired its batteries on it, they defused into the air as the field effect around the giant simply turned the lasers off. The giant held up its massive hand and the skeletons moved on and then began to run forward again. Then it spoke to the Lawful troops in an evil speech, which caused damage even from this distance.

“I am Chatsah Arba, greatest of the giants. Bound by song these hundreds of years and corrupted by time’s heavy hand, the sons of the first are not free of my lineage. I will once more rule all lands and crush all bands.”

“What do you want to bet he has three classes?” Someone Michael couldn’t identify asked as they moved back.

The giant undead guards began to throw carved stones, statues and disks at the space ship. In a few moments it became obvious the ship would have to fall back.

Michael frowned, but he couldn’t fault the captain. The ship was more valuable and could still do lots of damage if it was preserved. But it was hard to be left in the face of the enemy.

“Come; choose a champion for you. Let us fight one on one if you dare. If I beneath your hand fall, the giants that still live will also fall, but if you fall, all of your virtue will fall on your knees and worship me as the living god king of giants!”

Before anyone could speak there was a snap of thunder from a cloudless sky and a figure stood before them. Michael was surprised to recognize that it was John’s main character. He spoke in a high voice and clear as he said, “I will stand against you. I am the [Champion of Hope.]”

“Six [Champions of Hope] I have slain and their bodies have I fed to the birds of the air and the beasts of the field. Dare you defy me?”

John made no reply, but took a running leap and disappeared again. The giant looked around warily and suddenly parried into blank space. His club had a chunk the size of a dinner platter bitten out of it as John appeared, his hatchet a ball of fire and eyes a matching color.

“That’s cool,” Michael said before asking, “What should we do?”

“Focus on digging in. If anything attacks we will shoot at them and hope the giant’s defenses are down.”

John reappeared at the giant’s foot and landed a blow, that tore through the giant’s ankle, causing it to roar, but its other foot was already coming down. Glowing rings locked down space and John had to dodge. He managed it, but only by being driven into the path of the descending club. John rotated through the attack and finally forced his teleportation to work.

The giant stepped back, rotating his blade onto the defense. John appeared half second later and swung, but instead of hitting an exposed ear, he hit empty air. Then he was falling and unable to grab anything or teleport away in time.

“A defeat gained through you taking fall damage will be almost amusing as if I caught and crushed you with a bare hand,” Chetsah Arba boomed out as he tried to land another instance of Despair on the whole battlefield.

Michael frowned before connecting with John and saying, “You should be able to get him. Would a distraction help?”

“No. My stats only work if there isn’t another person actively attacking him.”

Michael scowled and then said, “You need to do something.. Lawful? I don’t know how to say it, but if it is just stats, he is going to beat you.”

John sighed and said, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Use a consumable to distract him if you can.”

John dodged another axe blow that almost let the giant step on him and could only answer with a glancing blow. Then his teleport got through and he was yanked out of the inexorable death-spiral the masterful combatant had set up against him.

“Your blink power is subpar. Five times I have killed assassins with the power to leap between worlds. Is it even Iron ranked?”

John scowled and said, “My character may not be able to get morale de-buffs anymore, but he is good at this. Consumables… maybe this will work?”

John’s axe and shield disappeared and he held a nondescript stick in one hand.

“Am I a dog that you come out against me with a stick?”

“Fetch,” John muttered as he through the stick at the giant.

The giant tried to parry the flying stick, but as it flew the stick became a dull iron rod. It simply spun past and struck the undead right in the bronze scale of his armor. Every scale over him immediately cracked and shattered like crushed pottery. The iron rod disappeared before it touched the ground, while the armor, even the helmet, continued to crumble away,

“What was that?”

John didn’t answer as he tried teleporting again. It was ineffective and he was struck by the haft of the club and flung off a good distance. After landing, John stood, stored his hatchet and shield again and drew another stick. This was more of a staff.

Michale wondered what if could do to the giant and so did the giant. He did not need to wonder long as from the staff flowers bloomed. The pollen than began to cover the field.

“What is this?”

John answered Michael, but not the giant, “I wondered what the tag Holy Life meant, but given how the Lawful things feel about the undead, I figured this was a decent time to find out.”

The giant and all of his guards were burning wherever the pollen touched them. It was the same effect as that of iron upon elves. John advanced at a walk and then began a grisly, but necessary work with his hatchet. When the giant fell, all of his body guards, dissolved and Michael did not need to be told that the world had been freed from that threat.

Xavier, Junius, 30th, 2104.

The fight continued to tip in favor of the sea-peoples. Their chaff, the orcs, goblins, slave mermen, cultists, bound crabs and demonic allies had been fed into the port by their thousands. Frank, his rescuer was gone, having completed his goals in game and was resting his character on bed covered with dragon feather pillows. That blogger was giddy with excitement for his article and clearly over using caffeine. Xavier now stood on the roof of the same apartment building and waited behind an improvised wooden parapet. If one of the [Archer Fish Bearers] saw him, he was unlikely to survive the experience. Two of them were beneath him and had their living weapons prepared.

The Camper beside him, [Paragon of Bricklayers] had been giving them the stink-eye for forcing him to stop building a ‘proper parapet.’ He then turned his character, grunted silently, stood up and threw a bucket of bricks at one target. Both pirates turned at the shadow, but didn’t look up or move fast enough to deal with the blunt damage. One was immediately crushed entirely, while the other hoped around on a single foot, after a brick landed heavily on it. The figure’s face became blue with rage and he held up his two projectile fish. The Camper chucked a singular brick which scored a lucky hit and before [Archer Fish Bearer] could aim again, another four bricks finished him off.

“Why didn’t you hit him?”

“How was I supposed to know you were going to do that?”

The bricklayer frowned and said, “I did that thing in the movies where they non-verbally communicate. Every reall man is supposed to know how to do that!”

“Why not just ask? We have channels for that!”

“I didn’t want to alert the enemy!”

Xavier considered explaining, but remained silent other than a sigh. He ducked down as another patch of hovering sea horses, carrying humanoid figures coated in the scales and braided lances swept around the corner. The annoyed [Paragon of Bricklayers] sighed and ducked down before asking, “Aren’t you some kind of wizard or singer or whatever they call them?”

“I am a [Chronicler of the Dead] and a [Scholar Yearning beneath the Fiery Gates.]”

“Sooo, why aren’t you humming a little tune and ripping them to shreds? What does ‘yearning’ even mean?”

“Yearn is like, looking back on how good things used to be. Neither of my classes help me fight directly. [Chronicler of the Dead] lets me act as a prosecutor, trying to convince the world that the target is guilty of historical crimes and that the target deserves to be punished for breaching the Law. [Scholar Yearning beneath the Fiery Gates] is different. It is more for… well, don’t tell anybody.”

The Camper snorted and said, “Sure.”

“I won the mini-game for the ‘Ancestral Expression’ thing. Got all the way back to the beginning. Got ahold some secrets. See the… Well, I don’t think I can tell that part. Not without crying. It was something though. It gives me this basically top-tier body. Then all the Lawful Patrons wanted me to come to them. That was cool, but I am just like… a failed historian. So I didn’t want to be a fighter. Just like, go help as the backline. So I chose a patron of Prudence. It wasn’t my first choice, not comfortable, but seeing the failure in the garden, the yearning of those generations, even if only in a two-minute cut scene. I had no desire to rush into errors, even if I objectively have a better, faster body than most of the players.”

“So you were afraid?” The practical bricklayer scoffed.

“Somewhat. The price of rushing into things ignorantly can’t be ignored. I can tell you that for sure.”

The Camper smirked and said, “Something of the same. I have built a number of altars, I got my [Impressive Stamina] blessed by a priest, but I’ve never gone for the second class. Kinda scared I would mess up the ‘Ancestral Expression.’”

“If you want, I can help with it. Sort of my speciality.”

“Sounds good. Should I just go for the beginning?”

Xavier nodded and said, “If you can’t, just go where it is the brightest.”

The bricklayer entered the trance and Xavier wondered if they would be fine. He needed to maintain contact and it wasn’t like he could fight while doing this. Oh well. Time to read up if anyone had posted anything about the genealogies about the Sea People. Where would they even find something like that?

Ten minutes later the Camper smirked and said, “I guess I should go use my spare holy bricks and make us a new altar.”

“How far did you get?”

“Pretty far. Look,” He said as he went down the stairs and started placing the bits for the altar.

Uncle of the West.

A +4 to all stats and the opening of the special ability of [Familial Battlefield Advisor] which when good advice is given to a legitimate [Royal] they will enjoy a bonus. Also allows the learning of all melee weapons at 4X speed.

“Well that is something!” The [Chronicler] said as he tried to make the connections.

“Yep. Now I just put my hand… Oh!”

Xavier didn’t say anything further as he didn’t want to distract from the meetings with patrons. He opened his inventory and drew the sword he had purchased for the battle. He had no weapon skills, but the Camper would probably need an active guard…

As if in answer to his thoughts, three goblins came around the corner. Xavier intended to take the stairs, but then realized that the prudent course would be to start by a ranged attack. So the sword went to his off-hand and he threw a brick. Without the skills or practice at throwing, the brick glanced off a wall and got their attention. They showed him their teeth and ran for the door. The door was not something he wanted to lose. So over the parapet, scholarly robes flapping, the scholar leapt.

“Misbegotten chaotic monsters,” he enunciated throw his first class. It was all accurate and the world itself disliked such things, so they all lost a few health. Specific charges were needed and these he lacked.

He took the sword in both hands and ran forward. Had anyone who knew sword fighting seen this, they would have either groaned or laughed at the display. He simply ran forward with his arms locked in front of his abdomen, and both legs facing the target. The goblin did not have the good fortune to laugh at him though. It was only impaled and died. The utter opposite of sword form then turned and hip checked the nearer goblin into a wall. It gasped and shuddered while Xavier spun in an awkward way and cut the top of the third goblin off. Had it been doing anything defensive, instead priming for its own wild swing, it would have at least wounded him. The last goblin came back from the wall with the brick.

“I hate brick jokes,” Xavier muttered as the thrown brick hit his character in the face and he was knocked over and counted as stunned.

“You really don’t know what you are missing out on,” the Camper said as he left the building, holding a massive shield and a brick in his off-hand.

Xavier stood slowly, but let the Camper try it out as he spoke, “I wanted to believe this is a good idea. I like certainty think about things. Things I make and things others say. Not to be too long about it. I joined one of the patrons of Faith.”

His brick flew true and broke the goblin. Then they both retreated inside as they heard the tramp of boots from the waterline. Once they got to the roof they stayed there and threw bricks at anyone who came near them, until they ran out of bricks. Shortly before midnight, they saw that things were coming to a head.

“So does your second class do anything interesting?” Xavier finally asked as the moon rose.

“Uhh… I guess. I am the [Untiring Aegis]. I can basically just keep blocking.”

“We might be wasting your potential. Come on. Let’s push for the docks!”

Jake, Junius, 30th 2104.

Jake had logged off for nearly four hours and done other necessary stuff. Now they were in the last thirty minutes before the end time. The sun had long set and the constellations pulsed. The realm seemed to groan every minute. Players who had had been neutral or ambivalent now showed their final commitment, joining either Law’s forces in holding the line or tried to cause as much trouble as they could with corporate power-ups. Jake had used his high Speed to eliminate the three of them. They had really used some strong language on him in the chat, but he had not had to actually hear them, so he was unbothered. If they wanted to role-play as trouble-makers, he was willing to commit to the role of an enforcer.

He was not entirely surprised to suddenly be surrounded in a square by a dozen centaurs, led by an irate half-centaur. All of them sported wounds and looked a mess. Half-centaur stepped somewhat forward and the streamer spoke, “Try your tricks again now! They won’t work at all!”

Jake drew his sword and moved forward rapidly. The half-centaur stepped back and opened his book of forbidden knowledge. Immediately, a burst of air slammed into Jake’s character, and swept him away. He bounced along the ground and tore down fences in his passing, before finally coming up against a bit of rubble. Amusingly to him, two broken centaurs who had been caught in the blast lay beside him.

The half-centaur turned the page, his statements incoherent over the noise of the battle. This time a wall of fire swept forward and towards Jake. At first glance it was overwhelming, but Jake had a speed advantage and no reason to stand his ground. He had to use most of his stamina to do it, but the page had been used. The half-centaur and his cohort ran up angrily, and arrows were loosed. Jake dodged and blocked all of them and came forward. Two pages of that book were more than enough for most characters, but if he could make the streamer waste a third page, he wouldn’t be of any regard.

Then in the distance there was a loud horn’s blast.

The centaurs and all of the chaotic monsters and their captured monsters quailed, and from a contested quarter of the town came the clatter of horse hooves.

The half-centaur turned to meet it and turned a page. The houses on each of the streets were struck a though by a giant’s hand or foot and crushed into the street. Then he flipped the page and summoned an acid raid against the city that set all it touched on fire and also to be burned by the acidic properties. Without waiting he turned to another page and set out a signal to a cloud and four great blasts of lightning with disrupting thunder crashed among the ruins. The book of forbidden knowledge smoked and the half-centaur’s hands burned. He dropped it into his inventory and awkwardly drew a tulwar for each hand. Two of them were glowing with shifting lights and his breastplate synced with the coloration. His erratic movements suggested genuine anger.

Jake neared and once more judged the half-centaur and his followers. All were bound by bits of pavement, small plants and loops of fire. They reared and bucked and started breaking free, but they could not run without risking their legs and wild kicks connected with each other. Then Jake was among them. The long sword hit and cleaved through target after target as he alternated between different attacks he had learned at his fencing course and just relying on setting them on fire. The half-centaur tried to protect and block, but he lost a tulwar and a hand and could only slowly retreat before the rapidly moving line of steel. Finally, in desperation, the half centaur drew the book of forbidden knowledge again.

“Who would have thought that a horn of tricky sounds would be so useful?” Travis said as he swept forward, riding low on his charge and running centaurs and their master over alike together. Behind him rode the rest of the cavalry in his band.

The streamer spouted profanities and fled. Jake waited until he was on the edge of his range and then judged him. Sure enough the second bound broke a leg and the half-centaur was flung into a spin before landing in a broken manner. He reached for his cursed book, but it was too far away and Jake earned more experience from the target.

“Will you be able to ride with us?” Travis asked as he reordered his tack on his horse and patted its neck.

Jake crushed the book beneath a heavy tread and then struck it with his sword. The blade successfully set the book on fire and Jake smiled at the new pop-up before saying, “I would like to say that I think this will permanently stop him, but he probably has a contingency for the last ten minutes of play. Where are you riding?”

“Broken Rock. The [King of the Darkened Seas] has finally emerged and the acting commander needs fireworks. The Castle is holding, but can’t spare a man or a space ship. You coming or staying?”

“I’ll ride with you.”

“Good, once more, it is pleasant. Many saddles have been emptied, but we will fight this king and hold the realm.”

They rode through the triangle and found it a mass of wreckage. Burned and broken planes and scattered war machines marred the surface. Trees burned black shone silver beneath the full moon’s light and the stains of life were mixed with broken weapons and disrupted farming equipment. Mules had been killed in their traces and the signs of struggle showed that nowhere had it been pleasant in the resisting Chaos. Suits of dark armor, ashes where farmsteads had stood and bits of land that looked like they had been submerged in acid.

“How many incursions have there been?”

Travis smiled a hard smile and said, “40. We met less than half of them before they began their attacks. But we have gotten them all. And now we can finally focus on breaking the siege at each point.”

“Did you ever get a second class?” Jake asked a few moments later, “I can tell you what mine is for a trade, if you want?”

“[Unyielding Rearguard Commander], hold a second and I can send you the effects and the path to building it.”

[Unyielding Rearguard Commander]

As long as the battle continues you are in the forefront. In the hottest of the battle you ride and your followers receive a +

20% damage bonus for your nearness. Prevent the righteous artifacts of Law from falling into unclean hands of Chaos for permanent hit point increases. Your followers gain a percentage of your resistances and this effect is doubled with the skill [Endure the Heat and Endure the Cold.]

[Unyielding Rearguard Commander] is formed from the ‘ancestral expression’ of 50 generations bonus, a patron of fortitude and the blessing of [An Arm to Strike].

Jake updated his own information and sent it over to Travis and then rode silently. Presently, Travis spoke again and said, “I have always enjoyed playing as a knight or paladin, but this battle had finally been the one that made me forget that I am just running a character and not actually a trusted commander of a king, fighting desperately for the kingdom and all that is just against the literal armies of Hell. Now, the final charge is to be accomplished. Will you ride with me into the serried ranks of the cursed spears and destroy the remaining Atlantean Lords?”

“We can make the wedge. I hear our infantry coming in at a fast trot behind us.”

“Then let’s ride into battle. Ogier, blow your horn and let us ride down our foes.”

The horn blew, long and clear, silencing other effects. Once it finished they crashed down the cobblestone streets, eight abreast, steel lances and iron swords gleaming in the moon’s light. Travis had his character sheath a sword and draw a new one. The blade began to gleam, brighter than the moonshine, then brighter than the torches the light cavalry bore. Then it was brighter than a floodlight.

Travis raised the sword above his character’s head and gave out the war cry.

They rode upon the foe and it was though the dawn arrived at midnight.

Jake 1st of Pompley 2104.

Congratulations to the Forces of Law, you were faithful to the end. Even beyond the strength of the world of Prosperium! An accomplishment indeed! Surviving player characters may freely travel to one of the other worlds to continue the fight for Law and against the perfidious gods of Chaos. These accounts are permanently free and codes will be sent to safe accounts or mailing addresses to ensure that you will be able to maintain access.

Jake leaned back in his chair and sighed. He didn’t usually stay up till midnight and he could barely remember the last few minutes of fighting. He hit the accept button and relaxed more. There were dozens of lists noting accomplishments and titles. He scrolled through them, idly noting the rare skills earned by other players. He closed the game with a smile after seeing Travis’ latest character on the list, just between John’s main character and Bubba. His own character just made the bottom of the list.

He stood and staggered over to bed. Hours at the computer had pushed him to exhaustion and he was nearly immediately asleep.

He dreamed, as he had often dreamt before of the war torn fields of Prosperium, over dread red-eyed half-centaur hunting innocents, angels and righteous warriors standing between the innocents and horde innumerable of evil monsters. He saw the broken walls of a dozen castles, heard the calls of dragons, giant eagles and mutated things.

He woke with his alarm and climbed out of bed. He had ten minutes to prepare… …for not having a school day and he sank back into bed and relaxed. He would get to the lake or something. Maybe swim? It was hot outside.

He checked his email and was surprised to have received an official looking letter.

(Sent on the 1st of Pompluy)

Greetings Jake,

Your case has been reviewed and your character, David Morgan has been elevated as though having fought in the last battle. Our developers would like to thank you for your patience and look forward to seeing your characters in action across one of our other server-worlds in the near or distant future. Your opponent’s methods were thought rather under-handed at the time, but further review has demonstrated that to continue in the punishment would have been unjust.

Bob

This letter is from a SWORD, BOARD and SONG™ verified account.

Jake smiled and checked his accounts. Sure enough, he had two active accounts. He closed the program back down, feeling vindicated. He doubted that he would have much time to return to their server-worlds, not with having a relationship and looking for part-time work, but he would fondly look back on his time fighting for the world of Prosperium.

THE END.