Lilith – a Ranker more often referred to as The Lightning Witch – was fighting at the head of the defence against the copper-scale stampede. Dressed wholly in black she thrust forward, lightning shooting down her silver rapier. It burst forth, striking an oncoming monster. The monster faltered mid stride, paralysed. Another user delivered the final blow. Seeing a copper-scale aim for a weak point in the defence she charged up a stronger strike, which shot, followed by a muted rumble of thunder. The strike hit the opportunistic lizard in the side. It collapsed, smoke coming out of its mouth. Turning back to the stampede, her rapier flashed once more.
Outwardly Lilith was calm and composed, leading the players in the camp defence, but inwardly her thoughts were racing. Oh, how she wished that her partner in crime, Sam the Bloody Baron, was here with her. His skills were better suited to taking down large amounts of enemies, without affecting allies. In her case, the lightning would indiscriminately jump to the weapons of allies, electrocuting friend and foe alike. As it was – with metal scaled lizards and players using metal weapons - she was left with only being able to use controlled single target attacks.
She struck left and right, lightning flying around, striking copper-scales and filling the air with the smell of ozone. Other players left a large berth around her avoiding what had effectively become her kill box. She ignored them, venting on the lizards, even as their charred bodies began to pile up around her. At least the constant lightning strikes made an impressive site. She would edit it after the later and post a clip of the stampede on her channel.
Still, no matter how impressive the footage might be, she lamented that the dragon raid was not going how she had planned. At first things had been ok. A message here, a post there, a little bartering of information and a small exchange of a favour and she had the barebones of a raid ready. As a player without a guild she turned to the community, inviting players to the raid. Enough had responded that she felt confident. In fact, several guilds had even offered to be part of the advance party to forge a track for other players. It was a boon.
Then things went sideways, because guilds. It was always guilds. That was the very reason why her partner wasn’t here – because he had to stay back and defend their city from the attacks of guilds.
As it was, after clearing a hidden plateau for a camp and covering it with illusions and protective enchantments they’d turned to scouting the dragon and dragon lair. Within a few days they had enough info to form a battle plan. Their opponent, previously a fearsome legend of myth had turned into an red dragon with old battle scars and a damaged left eye, which lived in a massive cave and slept for the majority of the time, only to go out roughly once a month to eat. One of the guild leaders had the clever idea that his thirty-six members were enough to take down a “crippled old lizard”. He and his guild had snuck out of camp at night, on the pretext of hunting one of the larger mountain goats that roamed the surrounds to “feed the incoming players”.
Two other guilds used that same pretext to leave the camp, stating that they had their ‘pride’ as guilds to uphold and then all went off on a trumped up competition to hunt the biggest mountain goat.
Only later did she find out through the forums a leaked video that these two guilds had made a secret alliance to kill-steal the dragon. What all three guilds had forgotten in their ‘pride’ was that a dragon, no matter how wounded or narcoleptic was still a - mother fucking - dragon!
Complete wipe, that’s what it was. It was a complete wipe – almost a skilled players wiped out. She felt here eyelid twitch at the memory of being woken to the roar of an enraged dragon and hundred missing raid members.
The dragon had flown around, trying to find their camp for three days, before going off on a rampage – torching the surrounding mountains and the plains below. It was only after almost a week after the failed raid that the dragon had returned, exhausted.
Many of the voices that suggested they raid the dragon while it was weakened and exhausted were quashed, due to the monster stampedes that followed the dragon’s rampage. A lot of monsters were caught up in the aftermath of the dragon’s rampage. With whole packs, groups or herds wiped out the power dynamics in the mountains shifted. Some were annihilated, some found their hunting and foraging grounds decimated and others suddenly found themselves as the strongest power in the area, the dragon having wiped out or weakened their competition. The camp had spent a month fending off roaming monsters. Mostly stragglers of defeated monster packs. This copper-scale stampede was the largest threat they had to fend off so far.
A copper-scale collided with her side, sending her stumbling. She frowned, knocked out of her rhythm and stabbed the offending lizard. Her enchanted silver-alloy rapier pierced through the scales. It struggled and gurgled, before joining the mountain of corpses.
Pulling her weapon free, she took a moment to assess state of the camp’s defence. The center, where she and most of the stronger players were stationed, took the brunt of the stampede. They’d held on well, but gaps were definitely showing.
To her left, hordes of newly animated undead copper-scales fought with their confused still-living kin. She smiled. Some players had problems with necromancers, which was why she had stationed them on the far north wing of the camp. She didn’t have the same problems. Afterall, her partner was a vampire lord. Plus, she’d always had a fond spot for the darker classes… well, most of them. Hopefully this showcase of the necromancers’ use and power would help in quieten some of the louder voices.
Satisfied with the northern defence, she turned to her right, observing the south wing. Honestly. It was a mess. The south held most of the unaffiliated latecomers who had decided to try the luck in the raid, but had come late. With most of the camp already claimed, these latecomers all had to squeeze in near the ravine entrance of the camp. At least what they lacked in firepower they more than made up for in numbers.
She supposed she was glad that the stampede had only occurred now and not a month earlier. The forty members who had remained of the original advance party wouldn’t have been able to handle this many monsters. Now, after a recent influx of players, their numbers were up to around two hundred. It was still barely enough for what she considered a ‘proper’ raid, but it would have to do. Maybe she’d give everyone another week, before she initiated the raid. It was a fine balance between waiting for more players and waiting too long. Too long and the present players might decide to leave. Some of them had already been here for over a month.
A shout went up and she turned her head from the south wing back to the front, just in time to witness two large forms crest a pile of boulder. Accompanied by the sound of metal scratching against stone two massive copper-scales slowly approached the camp. Each was the size of a car.
“Here’s Mommy and Daddy” she joked, eliciting a few nervous laughs from players around her. If she was actually streaming she would have probably tried for something more witty. As it was she just wanted this battle to be over. She could voice edit it later. Still, a performer’s gotta perform. She adopted a fencer’s salute, rapier held pointed upwards in front of her.
“Lady of sea and storm, I seek thee; as the lightning seeks the earth and the waves seek the sky. Grant me your protection; as the sea grants its bounty and the storm its wonder. Let your grace not be forgotten and let your fury once more rain upon this earth to smite those who forgot your wrath.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Lilith felt her patron Goddess answer her prayer and felt power flow into her. Rarely did she call upon her temperamental patron, but each time the feeling of raw power filling her was exhilarating. It was the sparking of lightning, the deep rumble of thunder and the unstoppable, inevitable force of an ocean. She took the briefest of moments to admire her rapier which glowed and sparked with white hot lightning, before she levelled it at the largest of the copper-scales.
“Lightning’s Judgement”
Despite the distance between the two of them, her spell took effect. There was no flash, no lightning arced between the two of them and indeed, for the briefest of moments it seemed that it hadn’t taken effect. But then, the entire world darkened and in a blinding flash of light a pillar of lightning, almost as wide as the large monster itself descended on the world.
Thunder roared across the entire battlefield, crashing into and knocking over players and beasts alike. The world shook and stones bounced. Tent poles snapped from the pressure and the lightning became the only the thing that people focused on. Nobody moved. Nobody could move. So great was the shock. Blinded and shocked battler and beast alike waited for it to past.
When it finally did past the world was muted and in monochrome. It was as if even reality itself shied away from the devastation that had just occurred.
Where the lightning bolt had struck lay a molten heap of glowing red metal. The ground around it was charred and cracked and the air was filled with the overpowering smell of Ozone. Beside the devastation the remaining copper-scale leader let out an ear-splitting wail, mourning its dead partner. Its scales were glowing red hot, some of them melted and residual sparks danced across its body. Other than that, however, it was very much fine. Fine and angry. Lilith felt the last remnants of her patron’s power leave her and she collapsed to one knee, her own mana and stamina spent.
“Fuck”.
She hadn’t seen who said that, but she wholeheartedly agreed.
The copper-scale locked eyes with her and roared. From somewhere to her right there was a responding roar. She turned her head in panic. There was a third? There was no way that the camp would be able to deal with that. Once again, she lamented the fact that her partner wasn’t here. Without him she was the only Ranker here.
As momentous as a world raid was, the End Forest and End Mountains were, quite literally, at the end of the world. For hardcore Rankers time was growth. Wasted time was wasted growth. And not all Rankers were combat-focused. The few she was in contact with were busy with their own projects. The fact that the Holy Empire had hosted a world raid on the Sea Serpent of the North at the same time and offered incentives for Rankers to join hadn’t helped. Still, she got a small pleasure out of the fact that the raid had failed, even if it didn’t change their current predicament.
Watching a massive form rushing towards them she felt her heart sink. Its form was obscured by dust raised by the fighting, but she could tell it was fast and powerful. The form barrelled through smaller copper-scales, sending them flying through the air. It wasn’t a copper-scale, she realised, slight hope returning. Whatever it was, hopefully it would fight the copper-scale leader and the players could pick off which ever beast survived.
Around her combat had started up again, though many of the beasts had fled after the massive lightning strike, but just as many players were watching the incoming dust cloud. Even the massive copper-scale had turned towards this new threat, its eyes defiant.
As the figure got closer she noticed that it wasn’t a beast, but rather a large man completely covered in the metallic- red blood of the copper-scales. The copper-scale roared, charging at him, as it recognised the blood of its fallen kin. The man roared back, briefly pausing his charge to launch himself upwards. At the peak of his leap he raised his sword – a massive zwiehänder almost as massive as he was – and brought it down with the force of an avalanche.
Copper-scale and sword met and the air was filled with the sound of screeching metal. Metal met metal, Metal bent, metal rent, and in the end the weaker metal gave way. The sword struck the copper-scale, sinking halfway into the copper-scales head. The blood-covered warrior let go of his sword, rolling across the back of the copper-scale to break his fall. The massive-beast was dead before it even lost momentum. It crumpled and came to a stop, the sword sticking out of its head like a horn. The warrior rose and pulled out his sword from the downed beast’s head. Red footsteps showed where he had walked. Around her players started whispering. She knew why.
Lilith turned to one of the players beside her.
“Inform Guild Leader Marco and Zion that there will be a meeting in the command tent in ten. Oh, also, get that man some water to wash with.”
Lilith smiled. It seemed things were looking up. Another Ranker was joining the raid.
***
Lilith rested her hands against the table in the center of the command tent. Marco, the leader of the only guild remaining from the advance party was there, as was Zion the spokesperson for the necromancers. Several other unaffiliated players, recognised for their ability to contribute to the raid were also present. This included a new face.
Lilith thumped her right fist against her left shoulder twice.
“I greet the Sword King.”
The gesture itself was an old one adopted in VR games as a way of greeting players that one recognised as strong or worthy of respect. It originated from some old movie and only a small group of gamers actually used it.
The Sword King responded in kind.
“Sword King greets Lighting Witch” he said with an easy grin.
“I would like to thank you for your earlier ass-“
The flap of the tent burst open, revealing players winding down after the remaining monsters fled. She turned to the intruder – Kariss, the sole diviner at the camp. Usually, Kariss would be included in meetings. Her role in determining the dragon’s habits and scouting out the cave, without risking players’ lives had been instrumental in forming their strategies, but Lilith had tasked her with a different task - checking their surroundings after the stampede. For someone who liked to act mysterious to drop their persona it was serious.
“Trouble?” Lilith asked.
Kariss nodded, readjusting her comically large glasses.
“We’ve got incoming. Fifty players.”
“That’s not trouble. That’s…”
Lilith faltered. Kariss was level-headed. There was a reason she was barging into the command tent like this. Kariss confirmed her worries a moment later.
“It’s Holy Empire.”
“Rat’s Arse.” Lilith couldn’t help herself. It was an old habit she’d picked up from an good friend.
Instantly mutters sprang up amongst occupants in the room. Lilith raised her hand, silencing them. It was one of the benefits of being a Ranker.
“How long do we have?”
Kariss considered.
“A day? Maybe more, maybe less?”
“Kariss.”
“Sorry. A day. They will be here tomorrow.”
Lilith turned to the assembled group.
“Make the announcement. We’re moving at daybreak.”
***
Azrael was wandering around the camp with a newly acquired jacket. He’d received it for saving a merchant’s cart from a copper-scale that found his booze. Azrael had defeated that and several more, leaving them for the merchant. Honestly, the copper from the scales as well as the lizard leather was probably worth more than a single jacket, but he didn’t have any use for either. Also, the nights up here got cold. He appreciated an extra layer. The biggest plus however was the hood. The jacket had a hood! A medieval jacket, with a hood!
After slaying several copper-scales and helping out a few players during the stampede, he’d noticed quite a few players whispering and pointing him out to their friends. Only one or two had tried approaching him, either to thank him or to try and recruit him into their groups. He’d declined of course, but the attention was making him a bit self-conscious. He hadn’t really been in this big of a crowd since… well, since those times, before the incident with Holy Empire. He pulled the hood lower, almost missing James who approached.
“Little man, I did not see you in the fight.” James mocked, placing one hand on Azrael’s shoulder.
Azrael brushed it off.
“I fought. I don’t see any spoils of the battle on you” Azrael said, pointing to his jacket “It seems you could use one too.”
James looked down, examining his clothes, then back at Azrael.
“I don’t see the problem?”
Azrael sighed, his gaze resting on James’ clothes. The big man had obviously tried to wash out blood – with poor results.
“Come on. I think I know someone who will lend us some soap. We also gotta find someplace to stay until the raid.” His stomach growled “And dinner.”
James’ stomach growled.
“Dinner I can agree to. Don’t worry about where to sleep. I managed to borrow a tent for tonight.”
“What about after that?”
“We won’t need it. It seems the raid will start tomorrow.”
Azrael stopped and looked at James.
“Finally.”