The island of Hispana was about 2 miles wide and 12 long, and it was shaped like Florida turned sideways. In the elbow was an enormous volcano at least 7,000 feet high.

From sea level it looked like Everest towering over us. Snow coated the edges except for one place where there was a gaping wound in the rim. Molten lava rolled slowly down the volcano's slope. It hardened into stone long before it reached the sea. The rest of the volcano's flanks were covered in bright green jungle.

The beaches were the same gorgeous white we had come to expect, and the waters were completely full of boats. Hundreds of boats, thousands of boats, mostly Napoleonic era warships like ours, but it seemed some teams had gone all in on upgrading theirs. A speedy platoon of little river patrol boats zipped past us with frog-like aliens at the helm. An enormous two-funnel steamboat chugged past, blowing a horn. Alien passengers leaned over the rail, staring down at us with looks of disdain. A graceful yacht with orcs in polo shirts and pressed slacks sailed past. One of the orcs waved. I waved back, wondering if they knew the Firebrand team.

Our NPC captain knew just where to take us. He steered our boat to an anchorage between another six identical ships. Only the identifying flags at the stern with different coalition logos on them varied.

We were all anchored off the west side of the island. The NPC crew tossed out the anchor, and we waited and waited. And waited. Hours crept by.

"Can't we just go ashore?" Sage asked the captain over and over.

He shook his head, saying, "We're waiting for orders from the Commodore, madam."

Sage even tried getting the pirate hat back out of her inventory and seeing if that made him obey her, but it didn't work.

At last, as one more straggler arrived, this one, a lashed-together raft of rough-hewn palm trees tied together and seated over a dozen blue plastic barrels that offered it very little buoyancy. It carried a single team of five sunburned and miserable-looking humans. As it edged into place then the system spoke to us again. [Welcome, miners! You have wisely chosen to answer the summons. The six parties that failed to obey the summons have been summarily removed from Phase Two and their earnings confiscated.]

I wondered why anyone would refuse to come. It didn't matter. There were plenty of us here.

[Introducing - the Treasure Hunt! You will all be given a treasure map first thing tomorrow morning. The location of the treasure is somewhere here on this island. You have eighteen hours to reach the location. Those teams who fail to arrive in time will not be permitted to compete for the treasure. Only a single member from each party is required to reach the marked location to qualify their team for round 2.

The fewer teams make it to the location, the easier it will be to win the prize! So race ahead. Take out your competition. Make deals. It's up to you. If at any time every member of a party is dead, that party is eliminated from the competition.

The death timers will be set at 30 minutes. If you die, you will respawn in the nearest graveyard. Every thirty minutes, all those waiting at the graveyard will respawn at the same time.

If you die one minute before that 30 minutes is up, you will respawn almost immediately. If you die one minute after the previous respawn, you'll have to wait the full 30 minutes. There are six graveyards scattered across the island. You will not respawn on your ship. No portable respawn points will function on this island.

Rewards will be issued for performance along the way. The System is watching, so do your best! Daring strategies will be rewarded even if they fail.]

That respawn timer might make or break a team’s attempt. If there was a big skirmish, all the dead on both or all sides would come back to life almost at once in the same location. That meant fights were likely to start back up again in the graveyard itself.

This could get really nasty. There were 2500 teams here and we needed to be one of the top ten. This was going to take more than strategy, more than luck. This was going to take a miracle.

[However,] the system continued, [you will receive more of these details tomorrow. Tonight, tonight you are the guests at a grand party. The twin outposts of Scylla and Charybis will host your party. No violence will be permitted at this party.

So let your inhibitions down. There will be intoxicants for every species labeled as to what they are. There will be entertainment. There will be vendors here to sell very rare objects.

Your crafter non-combat friends are invited to join this party. When it breaks up, non-combat miners will be allowed to choose to visit one of the two cities for the duration of the combat phase. They will find much there to interest them.]

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I could see our crafters speaking to each other in low voices, clearly excited about this opportunity. Me, I was just worried about a lot of different things that I had no control over.

I took a deep breath. I was all right. We'd come up with a plan. Sounded like I had all evening. Wasn't like I wanted a party anyway. We just had one a couple of days ago. That would hold me for another six months at least.

[And now! Welcome to the party.]

A pulsing Eurodance beat filled the tropical night air. The party island was about a hundred yards off the coast of the volcanic island we'd be exploring tomorrow. Ships were moored everywhere between the two islands. their lights lit. Lanterns along the sides were strung up in the rigging.

It looked like a fairy tale. There were little cabanas along the beach, small bars serving 30 or 40 people at a time. Bonfires blazed, plates of food were everywhere, fire-jugglers and dancers waved palm fronds from low stages to the pounding beat.

Everyone mingled. At first I thought the number of human miners was greater than I had expected. It seemed like every 7 or 8th person I saw was human. Then I remembered to check their tags and realized most of these humans were not earthlings. They had different systems of origin listed, places I'd never heard of. They were laughing and mingling alongside the orcs, space elves, lizard people, frog people, fish people, strange tentacled aliens and more.

There were even some of the really weird aliens we had stolen supplies from back during the initial phase. The system called them Grignarians and I noticed I wasn't the only one steering clear of them. They huddled together in little groups of eight or nine, their weird face tentacles reaching out and mingling with each other's.

I strolled down the beach taking in the sights, trying to relax and not worry about where the rest of my people were. There would be no violence tonight. The system would enforce it. I kept a tab on where Sage was until Grandpa noticed me and kicked me out of the cabana I'd been lurking in, telling me to go mind my own business.

A big group of orcs stood around one of the fires drinking frothy pints of beer. I paused. They looked familiar. Their outfits were the same as the firebrand orcs who had attacked us. I checked and sure enough the logo on their breasts was the same, the burning torch symbol. I hesitated then made my way over to their fire.

They stopped talking as I entered the ring of light. Then one of them pointed to me. "You!" he said cheerfully. "You! The human duelist who talks too much! Come have a pint with us!"

There was a small round table full of untouched beers. I grabbed one and joined the orcs, telling myself to relax, that even if they held a grudge there was nothing they could do about it tonight.

The orc who had greeted me beckoned me over. I came and stood next to him and he draped one arm around my shoulder. He was about eight inches taller than me and probably at least a hundred muscular pounds heavier. "This human!" he said to a couple of orcs across the fire who wore different logos on their silvery suits. "He fought my brother and won. His people's trickery put my brother's life in danger but then his actions saved my brother's life. I owe him. Give welcome to Shad Williams, friends."

The orcs around the fire lifted their beer mugs and I drank as well. The beer tasted good. It fizzed as it went down, warming my insides. Or maybe it was just the friendly welcome I had received from these orcs.

"So about that" I said. "Your brother is all right then?"

"He is! He's here somewhere," the beer drinking orc said. "I am Mak’gar. You killed me four times. Well I say you, but mean your whole team. The short one with no hair, I saw him messing with our sarcophagus and rushed to stop him but it was a trap. He blew up. He blew me up." The orc laughed cheerfully, thumping his chest with the hand holding his now empty beer mug. He raised the mug to his glass, looked at it sadly, then detached his arm from around my shoulders and went to fetch another round.

One of the orcs across the fire who wore a green hand symbol where the firebrand orcs had a flaming torch said "After I heard how you defeated our cousins I looked your team up. You're the one who dealt the snake faces a nasty blow aren't you?" He gestured a couple of fires over where the strange tentacle-faced aliens still stood in their little communal group.

"We did yes" I said mildly. "We humans, earth humans that is, we're new to all this. I don't know if there's some sort of unspoken rules we violated there by raiding another team during the setup phase."

That wasn't entirely true. The Beginner's Guide to Outpost Construction book had specifically warned we could be vulnerable to outside attack during that phase. I didn't want to reveal how much we did or didn't know, plus I figured if we had done something tacky it was better to claim ignorance rather than malevolence. not at all, not at all.

"It's a gutsy move and honestly might not have worked if anyone had thought you foolish enough to try it. As it was, your node location was just a bit too inconvenient for anyone to try to take during the initial phase. You got lucky with your seeding."

"Lucky?" One of the firebrand orcs snorted. "I think the reality engine favors them. You know how it always tries to promote indigenous teams."

My ears perked up at that. I drank some of the beer, keeping a polite smile on my face, but the overly friendly Mak'gar had returned with another two mugs. He tried to push one on me, saw that I had yet to finish mine and shook his head playfully. "For such a good fighter you have a poor appetite for beer. Drink up," he said.

I took another sip. "I don't really want to have a hangover tomorrow."

"Then tell the system to dial down the alcoholic effects," Mak'gar said.

I hadn't known that was a possibility. "How do I do that?"

He walked me through it. I sent the information on to everyone else in my coalition immediately.

Mitch shot back, Tell me something I don't know. You can do it the other way too and get hammered on a single pint of lager.

Figures the Canadian explosives and syrup expert would know that, I replied, then turned back to Mak'gar. "So nobody minds what we did to the squid faces." I gestured again at the Grignarians.

"Oh, nobody likes them," Mak'gar said dismissively. He waved a hand. "They never work with anyone else. They always make a bid at a reality engine and come away with far too many soul coins for their investment. They are unscrupulous, dirty, sneaky cheats. You probably won yourself some friends the way you crippled one of their bases so early on."

"That's good to know," I replied.

"So tell me, Shad," Mak'gar said. "We are only a little ways into Phase Two but have you started to consider your plans for the future?"