Derium Plains, Daggerfall,
7:39 pm, 14 th Banem 1092.
Derium Plains was a vast savannah land east of Oerbora that bordered the Wazir river, cutting between Daggerfall and Imperium. The moon shone overhead, brightly illuminating the earth with its beautiful light.
*cough* *cough*
Loud, desperate coughs punctuated the night’s tranquility. The afflicted, Rudega Farvulia, winced in pain as he weakly opened his eyes. He attempted to move his body but found he was too weak to move a single muscle. ‘I can’t believe I’m still alive,’ the dwarf mused as he bent his neck either way and scanned his surroundings.
Rudega was stunned to find he lay on a tree branch, and he could make out Durst’s heavily injured body on a branch above him. The orc’s chest’s erratic rise and fall revealed he was still among the living, but Rudega could not be sure how long that would remain the case.
Rudega’s brain hurt as he tried to recall how he got here. ‘Ah, that orc carried me after Mokern stabbed me through the back.” The dwarf’s complexion turned ugly as he thought of the smug, lazy bastard who nearly did him in. ‘Just you wait, Mokern. I’ll temper that brain of yours in my forge when I get back!’
Rustle.
The rustling of leaves drew Rudega’s attention, and as it wasn’t a windy night, the sound starkly stood out. The dwarf held his breath and tried his best not to make any noise as he peeked down to see who or what was approaching.
Rudega released a sigh of relief when he saw Ragnaf walk out of the elephant grass with a giant bush rat in his hand.
The orc’s sharp instincts picked up the gaze on him, and he looked up to meet Rudega’s weak brown eyes. Ragnaf dropped the carcass at the base of the tree, then climbed the tree to retrieve both Durst and Rudega. After placing them both on the ground, Ragnag tore the rat apart with his bare hands and handed a portion to Rudega. “Eat,” he instructed. “We can’t risk a fire.”
To Ragnaf’s surprise, Rudega gamely accepted the rat carcass and began to chew on it without any change to his expression. The dwarf painfully swallowed a portion of the meat and started to feel some strength return to his body. He weakly reached into a pouch strapped to his waist and was relieved to find two bottles in there.
Rudega retrieved the bottles from the pouch and looked at Ragnaf. “Here, feed one of this to Durst. It should help with his wounds.”
Ragnaf accepted the bottle with a mixed expression. “You’re not like most dwarfs.”
“What? I’m not an egotistical bastard?” Rudega joked and scrunched his nose as he downed the contents of his bottle in one sweep.
Ragnaf, encouraged by the dwarf’s action, propped Durst’s head on his knee and poured the bottle’s contents into his mouth. Luckily, Durst was not too far gone, and he reflexively swallowed the potion. Ragnaf heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the massive gash on Durst’s shoulder begin to show signs of recovery. He looked at Rudega, who had removed his armor. “You don’t look down on orcs. I can’t see the contempt in your eyes.”
“Kid, I don’t have enough energy to look down on anyone,” Rudega bitterly laughed as he inspected his injury. The potion was doing its job. The holes in his chest were beginning to close up. However, he had lost far too much blood, and as a result, he remained weak. “When you see the things I’ve seen, you learn there are enough assholes and heroes in all races for you to distribute your hate equally.”
Ragnaf’s eyes widened. “You fought in the Great War?”
“Since the day I could walk,” Rudega replied and looked at Ragnaf. “Listen, kid; In this world, there’s no shortage of evil things to hate if you go looking. It takes the truly strong to love despite all this.”
“I don’t understand,” Ragnaf stated with a frown.
“Hehe, I didn’t understand at first, either.” Rudega chuckled. “If we survive this, I just might talk to you all about it. Speaking of which…” The dwarf examined their surroundings. “Where are we?”
“Derium Plains,” Ragnaf’s replied.
“Derium Plains?” Rudega repeated in shock. “But that’s east? If we keep heading in this direction, we’ll hit Wazir river.”
“I know,” Ragnaf stated with a severe scowl. “But I kept spotting wisben and orc scouts in every other direction. I’m not sure who’s on our side right now, so I kept running east.”
“Smart move,” Rudega praised as a line of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. If one of those scouts had spotted the orc, they would have long been dead. “They didn’t notice you?”
“No.” Ragnaf shook his head. “I’m part wisben. I inherited my father’s eyes,” Ragnaf said as he pointed at his light-green eyes. “They can see very well.”
“Ah, I understand,” Rudega muttered and sunk into thought. Moments later, he let out a defeated sigh and said, “Assuming they’ve already cast their net, there’s only one place we can go.”
“Where’s that?”
Rudega’s brows furrowed, and he looked like he was seriously struggling with his decision. However, a moment later, his brow relaxed as he came to terms with the decision he was forced to make. “Let’s go to Wazir river.”
Ragnaf showed an incredulous expression. “I know I’m strong, but there’s no way I can carry you both and swim across the river. I’m not even sure I could do it on my own.”
Rudega shook his head. “We won’t swim across, but go under.”
“Under?” Ragnaf’s eyes flickered as realization dawned. “You guys—”
Rudega revealed a guilty smile. “Yes. We’ve secretly built a few tunnels out of Daggerfall. It’s meant to be an insurance escape plan in case orcs ever overran us.”
“Or a backyard for an ally to invade the orcs,” Ragnaf countered with a stern gaze.
Rudega shrugged. “As I said, kid, in the real world, there’s plenty of evil if you go looking.”
“Whatever you say, old man,” Ragnaf snorted as he hoisted Durst onto his left shoulder. He walked over and once again carried Rudega like a handbag. “I’ll let it slide this once.”
Boom!
As Ragnaf sprinted down the landscape, Rudega could not help but wonder what the future held for their little party.
Glashtyn, Kirkcour Woods.
8:13 pm. 14 th Banem, 1092.
Boom!
The earth trembled as thousands of centaurs clashed against even more monsters. Blood dyed the ground as the centaur army cut through the monsters with a roiling vengeance.
The beasts, surrounded and boxed in by the Tulpar shieldbearers, could do nothing but wail in torment as they were systematically cut down. Seemingly endless showers of arrows, shot by the Glashtyn tribe, rained down on the disoriented monsters and easily reaped their lives.
Kashi looked upon the carnage from atop a nearby hill with Darian, Casetes, and a Tulpar general named Balasius. The generals observed the slaughter with respect and awe in their eyes. They had never envisioned they could utilize such tactics to make battles as relaxed as this one appeared.
How were these the same centaur tribes that had been plagued by the Blight for so long? Under Kashi’s leadership, they were casually cutting down the monsters like wheat! He had even incorporated the Glashtyn’s ability with the bow into his plan. So much so that his presence was no longer required on the battlefield.
Kashi could feel the generals’ heated gazes, and he could not help but shake his head in embarrassment. Only the untrained eye would marvel at the simple tactic.
This was the basic attract, surround, and destroy tactic employed by Hannibal during the battle of Cannae. It was a tactic that allowed Hannibal’s troop of 40,000 to crush 80,000 Roman soldiers. It was no wonder it was so effective.
The only downside to this particular tactic was that it was next to impossible for modern military strategists to fall for the initial bait.
Fortunately, this battle was against mindless monsters. The centaur army only needed to provoke the monsters horde, and they would converge on the same target of their own volition, allowing the flanks to surround and lock them. Afterward, all that followed was a predictable slaughter.
Kashi looked across the battlefield at the distant Glashtyn tribe. It seemed each centaur tribe had its specialties. The Lymar and Dora clan were experts with the spear, while the Tulpar tribe, with their huge stocky frames, excelled in defense as evidenced by the massive wooden tower shields they held.
In contrast to these tribes, the Glashtyn tribe was quite skinny and excelled in archery and speed. Their preferred fighting style appeared to be sprinting within firing range of the enemy, letting loose, then quickly retreating. Only the wisben tribes could beat their accuracy with the bow.
Kashi could see them being adopted as a mobile archery unit, a deadly force on any battlefield.
Kashi nearly salivated at the thought of the centaurs fighting on their side. Damn, Absalon would have a field day with this force.
“The battle is coming to a close,” Darian reported, inadvertently drawing Kashi out of his reverie.
“Mm… Let’s go greet the chief,” Kashi said as he spurred Drixlia onto a path that led down the hill.
Why wasn’t he in the fight?
Kashi decided to let the centaurs have the taste of open combat against the monsters without his help. After all, the entire plan hinged on the centaurs putting up a tremendous fight while the daeben’s strike team infiltrated enemy headquarters. If the centaurs got used to his game-breaking [Gilgamesh] shower, they might capitulate when it came to the real deal.
As Drixlia trotted down the path, Kashi wondered what Absalon would think of his war-time decisions.
Aygorzi, Merriheim.
8:10 pm. 14 th Banem, 1092.
The Supreme General of the Hopeful Maggots’ army, and appointed Auxiliary General of Rosendun, Absalon Pathfinder, rubbed his eyes as he studied a report file under the calming magelight. The general yawned and realized fatigue began to set in. How long had he been checking these reports?
Absalon had truly lost count of how many hours he’d spent in-game on mundane, tedious tasks like these. Yet, he could not deny the joy that arose in his heart from carrying out such seemingly useless jobs. These tasks were a spice that was unavailable to him in reality.
In real life, Absalon, or rather, Lt. Gen. Handa Hoshiko, was a retired general with all the benefits that came with that. The general’s life could not be said to be bad or good. His wife passed away from cancer a few years back, but they had two filial children who had gone on to live successful lives of their own. In fact, it was one of his grandchildren who suggested to the old man that he try out King’s Journey.
At first, Absalon hadn’t cared much and casually bought the Virtual Gear. However, he was entirely hooked when he felt the first burst of power from his in-game character. Absalon founded his own guild in that game, but he never managed to break the ceiling and join the legends overlooking the world because of how late he started.
Absalon ensured he did not make that mistake when Live No Evil came out. Not only was he one of the first to log into the game, but he took a few friends from the previous game and quickly set up their claim in Kerta. His strategic foresight aided him in swiftly clinching the spot as number one in Kerta, and he might have become king if it were not for Kashi’s interference.
At first, Absalon had indeed borne some resentment toward the daeben. Who wouldn’t? But, over time, Absalon began to see why generals rarely made good rulers as carried out Kashi’s policies.
A general was a creature of war that belonged on the battlefield. Their viewpoints were almost always severely hampered due to their nature to seek victories at little to no cost to their armies.
Absalon knew that he enjoyed the battlefield. It was his calling. The ability to control the lives and deaths of thousands of warriors was a responsibility few could endure, but he relished the challenge—every second of it.
Knock! Knock!
Absalon’s inner thoughts were interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. Without looking up from the reports, he said, “Come in.”
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Nyte walked into the room and looked at the general’s weary eyes. “Absalon, you should get some sleep.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Shouldn’t be long now,” Absalon joked as he raised his head from the reports.
Nyte shook his head. He’d heard that joke a thousand times. By this point, he was past reacting to it. Nyte softly chuckled, and then began his report, “Syèl just arrived. He’s drinking in the new tavern. From the looks of things, I think he’ll stay the night.”
Absalon’s eyes sparked open as the fatigue instantly washed away. “Good, keep an eye on him. I’ll meet him first thing in the morning. What about Shoko?”
“Ms. Shoko is with Jade at the dwarven forge,” Nyte reported. “I think she’ll show up at the tavern once she hears about Syèl’s arrival.”
“Perfect,” Absalon said as he released a sigh of relief. “The campaign will run smoother with the help of those two monsters.”
“Absalon.”
“Yes?”
“You’re a monster yourself.”
“Nonsense.”
Glashtyn, Kirkcour Woods.
8:23 pm. 14 th Banem, 1092.
Kashi’s negotiations with the Glashtyn tribe’s chief went quicker than any of the previous discussions he’d had. The Glashtyn tribe, as they had suffered longer under the beasts’ relentless assaults, had lost a large number of their forces to the monster invasion and itched for vengeance.
Kashi, Darian, and the other generals had to remind the bereaved chief and generals of the Glashtyn tribe of their duty to preserve their bloodline before they relented and allowed some of their soldiers to escort the civilians to the Lymar village. Even so, over seven hundred specialized mobile archers joined the conquest to save the last town, Longma.
Strangely, Darian pulled Kashi aside just before they set off for Longma. His brows were deeply-set, and his gaze was severe, yet slightly wary, causing the daeben to wonder what the issue was.
“Kashi-dono,” Darian greeted with an apologetic expression. “Forgive my question, but how do you feel about the beast-kin?”
Kashi’s brow rose, but he nonchalantly shrugged and answered, “Neither here nor there. About the same as every other race. Why?”
Darian’s brows locked together as traces of shame and guilt flitted through his eyes. “The Longma tribe are different from us. They could be classified as beast-kin if looked at from your perspective.”
“Beast-kin? More like demons,” Casetes remarked as he joined the duo. He turned to Kashi, and the daeben could sense a hint of disdain in those eyes. “The Longma tribe are indeed centaurs as ordained by our god, but they are lesser creatures cursed by devils.”
“That claim has no proof,” Darian countered with furrowed brows. “They are centaurs, just like us.”
“Forgive me, Darian-kun, but I am inclined to agree with Casetes,” Balasius, the head general of the Tulpar tribe, said as he too joined the discussion. “The Longma tribe are indeed a sub-species. But do not fear. As long as they are centaurs, we must protect them regardless, and so we shall.”
Kashi listened to the three generals, and a hidden light sparked in his eyes. “Sorry, I’m not following. What do you mean they’re like demons?”
“You have to see them to truly understand,” Casetes said with a sigh that caused Kashi to frown. The daeben could hear the distinct tone of those who felt superior to others in society in the centaur’s voice. “They look nothing like us. Their upper bodies are covered in scales, and they have clawed hands twice the size of your head.”
“Mm, furthermore, the Longma tribe are savages,” stated Balasius as he folded his powerful arms across his chest. “Strong, powerful savages, but savages nonetheless.”
“Yes, that’s why, even though we are duty-bound to save them, you must remain vigilant,” Casetes warned Kashi with a stern gaze. “The worst tragedy would be to lose you to friendly fire. We cannot predict what goes on in those savages’ minds.”
“I will keep that in mind,” Kashi replied in a flat tone. He looked at Darian and asked, “Are you of the same opinion?”
Darian shook his head. “The Longma tribe might be a little wild, but I honestly believe that’s only because it’s the only way they know how to protect themselves.”
“Oh?” Kashi’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Why do you say that?”
“The Longma tribe has been ostracized for several centuries by other tribes for being too savage,” Darian explained with a short sigh. “We do not share our technology, nor trade with them, yet we somehow expect them to keep up with our civilization. But whenever there’s a significant threat to the centaur race, the Longma tribe is always the vanguard, shedding the most blood to protect our race.” Darian frowned and glanced at Casetes, “Furthermore, we sow the seed of hatred in our foals when we tell them stupid, baseless stories like ‘demon curses.’ Frankly, if it were not for their undying loyalty to our god, they would have abandoned these lands ages ago.”
Darian shrugged. “Then again, I might be biased because I fought alongside a few of the Longma tribe during my coming-of-age ceremony.”
Kashi looked at Casetes. “What do you think?”
Casetes’ brows furrowed as he sunk into deep thought. “I do not know. I have never thought of it that way.”
“Well, that’s the good thing about life,” Kashi said with a warm smile. “We get to learn something new every day.”
At that moment, a slender female centaur clad in leather armor and wielding a massive longbow strung over her shoulder trotted up to the trio. She bowed her head and introduced her identity. “Kashi-dono, Anatolia Tryphosa, general of the Glashtyn tribe has come to report. The troops are ready to move out on your command.”
Kashi smiled at Casetes, Balasius, and Darian. “We’ll continue this conversation later. First, we must fulfill our obligations.”
“As it must be,” Casetes, Balasius and Darian agreed and headed out to take command of their respective troops.
Kashi looked at Anatolia. “We march now. I’m sorry. Your men must be tired, but we absolutely cannot afford to waste any time.”
“No need for concern,” Anatolia boasted with a vengeful glare. “The Glashtyn tribe can fight for another five days without rest.”
“Thanks. I’ll be relying on your tenacity,” Kashi said and watched as Anatolia trotted off to ready her troops for the march.
“You’ve come a long way from commanding a bunch of villagers in a swamp.”
Kashi’s heart skipped a beat. He turned and glared at the assassin that, at some point, rode up next to him. “What nonsense have you been teaching your horse?” Kashi jokingly admonished Shadow as he looked at the young man’s mount.
Somehow, the horse, just like its master, had learned to hide its presence. He could not understand why anyone would teach their horse such a useless skill.
“How am I supposed to scare you if you can hear me coming?” Shadow replied in his trademark flat tone that made it impossible to tell if he was joking or not.
Kashi’s brows drew together in mock anger. “You do realize it’s not normal to want to scare the shit out of your friends, right?”
“It isn’t?” Shadow turned to look at Kashi, and for all the daeben’s people-reading skills, he could not tell if the assassin’s surprise was genuine or not. “But it’s so much fun?”
“Fun? You’re handing out heart attacks left and right!?” Kashi berated.
“Don’t rollercoasters and haunted houses do the same thing?” Shadow countered. “They’re fun, aren’t they?”
“Well, I mean, those are different.” Faced with Shadow’s silent stare, Kashi doubted his conjecture. “…Aren’t they?”
“Don’t know. You decide.” Shadow turned away from Kashi and looked at the troops below which had begun their march. Silence descended on the hilltop as the cool evening breeze rustled the tree leaves and grass. “Hey, Kashi, I never got the chance to say this, but thank you for finding us at Lew Creek.”
“What’s this all of a sudden?” Kashi responded with a light-hearted chuckle. “You’re not dying, are you?”
“Hmph, I’ll outlive you at the very least,” Shadow countered with a snort.
“I guess I now know why you keep trying to stop my heart.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Shadow stated. He took a breath then added in a rare moment of solemnity, “I’m serious though, Kashi. You have no idea what you did for us when you picked us up at Lew Creek. You’ve shown us a world we would never have dreamed of.” He looked into Kashi’s eyes and said, “Especially Lune. If someone had told me Lune could be this happy two years ago, I would have killed them for giving her false hope. But you’ve made it a reality. For this, you will always have my gratitude.”
Kashi’s brows locked together in a tight frown, and he waved his hands. “Enough with this talk of thanks. I don’t know what you think I did, but I can assure you that the only reason I am standing here today is ‘cause of you two. The man I am right now would not exist if it were not for every single one of you. So, don’t ever bring this up again, or I will be forced to start bowing to every member of our party.”
With those words, Kashi patted Shadow’s shoulder then spurred Drixlia to chase after the centaur formation.
Shadow’s eyes shone as he watched the retreating daeben and remarked in an almost playful tone, “How dishonest.”
Derium Plains, Daggerfall,
10:02 pm, 14 th Banem 1092.
A lone silhouette rushed into an old, dilapidated village located a few kilometers from the Wazir river. The houses, made from run-down thatch and cracked mud, looked like it had not been inhabited in several years, and as a result, it was not surprising to find that a clan of goblins had made the run-down town their home.
Goblins were tiny, green-skinned humanoid creatures that were roughly as tall as an average ten-year-old child. The derided creatures sported long, pointed ears akin to an elf’s and were often dressed in old rags scavenged from settlements of other settlements.
Goblins in this world presented a vexing puzzle to most monster classifiers. Their savage, scrapper-scavenger lifestyle and disregard for life suggested they should be classified as monsters. Still, they also possessed bare minimum intelligence and could speak the common tongue, which disqualified them from being monsters.
Regardless of their status as monsters or not, the global dislike and disdain of goblins was an emotion shared by all races. As a result, goblins were usually exiled to the hidden parts of forests or old, abandoned ruins like this village.
A pair of goblins chatting on the village street paled as a massive shadow suddenly loomed over them. The goblins paled in fright as they looked up and saw a massive, bleeding orc glaring at them.
“Mercy, Mercy!” The goblins immediately knelt in fright and began to plead for their lives. They didn’t even consider running or calling over their companions. Such was the level of their cowardice.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Ragnaf questioned as he observed the kneeling goblins.
“I’m sure of it,” Rudega replied, then added, “You can put me down now.”
Ragnaf snorted and complied.
Rudega looked at the kneeling goblins with a complicated gaze as he fished out a piece of paper and a pencil from his pockets. He drew a rough diagram then placed it on the floor on the floor in front of the goblins. “Don’t worry. I promise we won’t hurt you. We just want to know if you’ve seen this image.”
The goblins looked at the image then at each other. It was apparent they knew something but were scared to talk.
“Hmph.” Ragnaf’s casual snort scared the living daylights out of the goblins, and they immediately spilled everything they knew in terrible common speak.
Rudega looked at Ragnaf and chuckled as the goblins ran off. “It certainly helps to have an orc along.”
Ragnaf snorted once more and pointed toward the village’s interior. “Let’s go find this chief before Renark catches up.”
Rudega’s gaze hardened. “You’re right.”
Ragnaf looked at the dwarf. “Are you fine to walk?”
“As long as we’re not running away from anyone,” Rudega replied as he walked ahead of the orc. The duo confidently made their way through the village. Their open stance caught the attention of several goblins, who grabbed sticks and stones then fled to the chief’s dwelling in panic.
Rudega and Ragnaf stopped in front of what remained of an old duplex. Their gazes, however, were drawn to the goblin standing in front of a small mob.
This goblin was significantly different. It stood at least a head taller than the rest and held a sword in its left hand. Furthermore, it was dressed in an old but functional leather cuirass, and its eyes shone with vestiges of intelligence.
Upon seeing Ragnaf, the goblin immediately dropped its sword on the ground, much to the visitors’ shock.
The goblin stared at the two men and greeted them, “Name. Zaaz. No want trouble. What you want?”
Rudega hid his shock. There wasn’t enough time to look into this mutated creature. “Nice to meet you, Zaaz. My name is Rudega. My partner’s Ragnaf.”
Zaaz looked at the injured Durst slung over Ragnaf’s shoulder and frowned. Orc injured. You bring trouble.”
Rudega nodded. “Unfortunately, yes, but we’ll be out of your way in only a few moments.” Rudega pointed at the diagram on his sheet of paper. “Once you take us to the room with this diagram, we’ll disappear and never return.”
Zaaz looked at the sheet of paper and frowned. He felt uneasy, but the alternative was to force the intruders to search on their own. Who knew when whatever was pursuing them would catch up? “I know diagram. Come.”
Zaaz led the duo to the duplex’s basement, where they saw the image of a broken hammer emblazoned on one of its walls.
Rudega’s gaze grew heavy as he approached the wall. This diagram represented the fall of the dwarfs. Like a few others, this spot was to be used during a do-or-die scenario for the dwarven race.
Rudega shook his head and cleared his doubts. No use moaning. It was time to face the future, whatever it may be. The dwarf ran his fingers across the diagram and tapped specific locations in a cryptic pattern.
Grrrooooo!
The earth trembled as a section of the wall slid open, accompanied by a sound akin to the groans of a waking dragon.
Ragnaf’s eyes twitched as he stared into the dark abyss beyond the opened door. “Dwarfs and their tunnels.”
Rudega chuckled. “This is one of our deepest. It had to travel below the Wazir river after all.”
Ragnaf’s eyes narrowed.
Zaaz looked at the tunnel with a steady gaze, then turned to Rudega. “If trouble come, I talk.”
Rudega’s gaze hardened, but his eyes also held respect. “I would expect no less. Thank you and goodbye.” The dwarf nodded, then summoned a magelight and descended into the tunnel.
“You’re brave for a mere goblin,” Ragnaf praised and patted Zaaz’s head. He then followed behind Rudega before the door slid shut behind them.