The Bathrobe Knight

Volume 2

Written by: Charles Dean

Edited by: Joshua Swayne

Copyright © 2015 by Charles Dean

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1:  Spoons for Swords

Chapter 2:   Stomach Pains

Chapter 3:  Not a Cougar

Chapter 4:  Cheat Codes Over Reset Buttons

Chapter 5:  Fashionably Great

Chapter 6:  Errand Boy or Quest Master

Chapter 7:  Barbeque Standard with Purchase

Chapter 8:  Guilty Pleasure

Chapter 9:  Phallic Force

Chapter 10:  Guess Who's Coming for Dinner?

Reliquary

(Monsters, Races, Characters, Random Drops, Cheat Codes, Bosses, & Gamer Lingo)

Prologue

Robert:

Robert walked through the halls of the office building listening to sound of his shoes squeak against an unusually well-polished tile floor. Everyone around him, even the small groups gathered at the various conference tables strewn throughout parts of the complex, were unusually quiet. The senior project members and group leads all had the doors to their offices shut and closed tightly. Some even had the blinds turned down, as if they were trying to block out the atypical silence that had descended upon the hallways. The result was that every little squelch his loafers made seemed all the louder. Not that the office was unruly or out of order. Well, not typically, anyway.

There was generally sense of purpose and excitement in the office. Normally, at this time of morning, there would be commotion everywhere. Everyone had a role to play, a job to do and goals to accomplish, but it was very rare that any of these things were done by anyone alone in solitude and quiet. How many great ideas had been passed over or never heard because someone was too afraid to speak up? How many so-so or average ideas had been lost in the oblivion of a paperwork shuffle when someone else could have taken it and made it great? No, open discussion was at the backbone of the work principle that characterized the company's approach to development. The company firmly believed that communication was the key to producing a superior, higher quality product.

As such, it felt like Robert was not at work, but had been transported back into a library on a college campus during finals week. Hushed conversations seemed to grow quieter as he passed by, and he could almost feel the fleeting stares from his coworkers’ eyes as they warily glanced up at him as if to see who would be so foolish as to arrive late to the last minute cram session.

Robert ducked into the door to his office, unable to shake the eerie feeling that seemed to follow him in from outside. He dropped his briefcase by the door and carefully set his laptop bag on the desk, beginning the process of unzipping it and setting up everything alongside his larger, more powerful desktop. In truth, he really didn't have to carry the laptop back and forth with him everywhere he went.  He could have used a flash drive to carry most of the important information to and from home and work, but he had gotten used to it a long time ago before such conveniences had been commonplace.  Plus, he never knew when there would be a last minute call from someone needing a bit of code etched out just right, and he liked to always have access to tools and systems he was comfortable working with.

"Knock, knock," came the voice, resounding from the hall into his office in unison with the actual sound of knuckles rapping on his open door.

Robert almost jumped at the sound. It was the first real voice above the tone of a furtive, hushed whisper he had heard since he had arrived through the doors in the lobby downstairs.

"Woah, woah, woah. Easy there, killer. Have a little too much java in  your caffeine drip this morning?" Gary asked in a teasing tone.

Robert turned, having recognized the voice from the start, and couldn't help but laugh at himself. "No, just the opposite. Not enough. No matter how early I get up, I never seem to quite finish that last cup before I have to run out the door."

"Hey, you know, I was down at the hospital visiting a friend the other day. They have these IV drips they set up on little trolleys now. So, ya know, you can wheel it around in case you have to go to the bathroom or something. You just push it around everywhere with you. We should really look into getting you one of those. Direct injection of caffeine straight to the veins." Gary tapped the veins visible on his arm for emphasis.

Robert laughed back at him. "Yeah, well, I don't think I'm quite ready for the hard stuff yet. You know us old dogs. We like it simple and old fashioned. Can't teach us new tricks and all that. Besides, you make it seem like I have a problem or something . . ."

Gary's grin grew wider. "Of course you do."

"I do not. And don't they say that you should never confront someone and explicitly tell them that they have a problem? Oh, God, you're not planning a java intervention, are you? A javavention?  Kass was watching one of those awful reality shows a few weeks, ago and I couldn't help but overhear it.  I think people actually staged one of those."

"A javavention?" Gary raised his eyebrow quizzically. "Seriously?  We've got to get you out of that house more. You're spending entirely too much time with your daughter.  You're even starting to make up words like she does. Although, if your legs looked half as good as hers in one of those little sun dresses . . ."

Robert blinked back in response, choosing to ignore the last remark. "Okay, whatever, just so long as you aren't trying to say I have some kind of problem."

"Oh, no. You definitely have a problem."

"Wait, hold on." Robert scowled. He could have actually used a drink of coffee right then.  This much banter back and forth first thing in the morning was too much to go at alone. He needed something to prop his thoughts up. "Wait," he began again, looking around, "Where is--"

"See, I told you," Gary said laughing. "You have a problem."

"Did you do this? Did you set me up?" Robert asked accusingly, rounding back towards where Gary still stood in the doorway and pointing a finger at him.

Gary broke out into a full fit, his grin spreading across his face as he tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Oh, no," he gasped out between laughs. "No, no, no." He spread his hands out, palms open. "I just got here. How could I possibly? I haven't even left the doorway!" He fell back into his fit of laughter.

Robert just sighed. Reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, he pulled out a travel mug he kept tucked away there just for circumstances as dire as this. "I really must be getting old if I actually managed to leave the rest of my morning coffee sitting in the car." Robert shook his head in dismay at himself.

Gary had managed to collect himself enough to speak again, but the smile never left his face.  He was still struggling to get his breathing back to normal, almost like he had run up several flights of stairs, and he hadn't quite gotten his wind back yet. "Oh, man, I needed that. This place is like a funeral home this morning," he said, hoisting a thumb over his shoulder to indicate what he was talking about.

"Yeah, I couldn't help but get that same feeling myself. What's up with everyone out there?"

"Yeah . . . about that. That's actually why I dropped by. I figured you'd appreciate the heads up.  B-MOC is in the building. He's going to be sitting in on this morning's conference."

It was Robert's turn to raise an eyebrow in question. "Huh?"

"B-MOC. B.M.O.C. Big Man on Campus," Gary stated flatly, like this concept should be obvious and self-explanatory.

Robert just stared back at him blankly.

"Charles is here," Gary finally said. "He's personally asked to attend the meeting. And by asked, I mean, he said he would be there, and no one dared to try and tell him 'no.'"

"Why didn't you just say that?" Robert asked, exasperated. "What's the big deal? I was supposed to have a meeting with him later on anyway. How does that turn everyone into a bunch of puppies acting like they just got a spanking?"

"Puppies? I always had you pegged as more of a cat person."

Robert sighed to himself at Gary switching the subject again. "Never again. Kass dragged home a stray kitten she found when she was a little girl. I would do anything to make that girl happy. But not a cat. She doesn't deserve that. No one does."

Gary laughed. "It fell asleep on your laptop, didn't it?"

Robert nodded his head, glad that Gary understood. "Little bugger tried to lap up my coffee too.  Turns out that some real nice people who owned a farm just outside town were desperately searching for their lost kitten and were so happy to have it back."

It was Gary's turn to shake his head in disbelief. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Robert just shrugged it off. "So back to what I was saying. What does Charles showing up have to do with our newly-inducted walking dead out there? Did someone cancel the pony ride for the kids' birthday party or what?"

"Nah, you just know how it is . . . elusive, hands-off, billionaire playboy decides to suddenly show up to the office one day at random when things start to go south, and everyone gets their panties in a wad over it. The rumor going around is that he's going to bring the ax down on someone for what's been going on in-game. Things aren't exactly going as planned."

Robert sighed again. So that explained the extra-squeaky-clean floors this morning. People had a way of over dramatizing everything and always expecting the worst out of any situation. Even if Charles had actually come to remove someone from the project, odds are it would be one of the senior leads, not the actual team members.

"Sounds like I'm really going to need this then," Robert said as he held up his empty travel mug and brushed past Gary out into the hallway, turning towards the closest coffee machine. "Hopefully he didn't scare coffee beans into silence as well." Not bothering to lower his voice as he walked through the hallway, his words rang out with an odd clarity through the silence.

Robert filled his mug from the large pot in the break room that was blessedly full and almost bumped into Gary on his way back out.

"This way," Gary said pointing towards the elevators. "When they found out the big man was going to be here today, they moved the meeting to the conference room on the top floor at the last minute."

"Of course they did," Robert replied as he punched the elevator buttons with his free hand and stepped inside as the doors quickly swung open.

The ride up took only a few moments, and the pair was soon traipsing down the hallway towards the large conference room on the corner of the building. The entire room was framed with glass panels on all sides, and, as they approached, Robert noticed that most of the seats around the large oval table that dominated the middle of the room were already filled. Everyone sat with downcast eyes and hunched backs, intently pretending to be engrossed with whatever was in front of them. A few fidgeted with the pens in their hands, and some were restlessly scrolling through their phones or tablets, but they were all doing anything they could to avoid looking at the figure seated at the head of the table.

Robert took a quick appraisal of the man as the door swung open, and he and Gary made their way to the seats left open on the opposite end of the table. He was dressed in a navy blue suit and a yellow patterned tie--which were enough to make him immediately stand out from everyone else gathered in the room. The dress code at work was usually pretty lax, nothing too flashy or revealing, but casual was definitely the word when it came to office attire. Charles had blonde hair, perfectly parted, and striking blue eyes that were only beginning to show his age with small creases around the corners. Unlike everyone else, he sat leaning back in his chair at the head of the table, one leg crossed over the other, perfectly at ease.

Even after Robert and Gary had taken their seats, an awkward silence continued to permeate the room. Robert looked around from face to face, but no one dared look up to meet his gaze.

"Gentlemen, it was my understanding there was a rather important meeting that was supposed to take place today," Charles said, breaking silence. "So? If everyone has their black socks on, we can get this started." Everyone chuckled uneasily in a low tone, still afraid to be the first to speak up or break the uneasy pause, but more afraid not to laugh at the joke. One of the more unusual clauses of the bylaws stated that everyone had to wear black socks to meetings. Robert wasn't even wearing socks.

"Alright, well," Gary began from beside Robert, "we have a number of issues that need to be addressed. And, as much as I would love to get back to answering inane questions about where the fluffy, pink unicorns and candy canes are, I really don't want to sit here admiring the view all day." He gestured to the view outside the office allowed in by the windows that made up the walls on two sides of the room. "I think it's safe to go ahead and say that you'll see a common theme linking them together as well.

“First, I believe that everyone is familiar with the Unity Arc and what happened there--or what didn't happen and should have," Gary grunted, more than chuckled, at his own bad joke as he paused and looked up at Charles, who motioned for him to continue with a slight nod of his head.

"The Unity Arc was one of the few major plot devices designed into the game from the get-go. It was supposed to give everyone a chance to get used to the VR sim and the in-game mechanics--a feel for the world and the play-style--before dropping them into the inferno. While we were testing out the game and working out the final kinks, it was the best way we had to keep the races locked so that they weren't able to party or group up with each other. This was supposed to encourage the players to focus more on each of their own individual starting areas. We really wanted to push everyone to help us find any bugs, glitches or inconsistencies in those initial player realms. Sure, players were able to venture off and explore anything they wanted, but we really wanted to corral them on the individual starter islands as much as we could. If they don't have any reason to go wandering off other that just to see the world, it makes sense that they would always come back to where they started in order to continue progressing through the game. Fleshing out the beginner areas is critical to retaining the player base. First impressions and all that jazz.

“Anyway, after the we found out that the AI was spinning like a top working wonders, that it paired up correctly to the game world of Tiqpa, there was a pre-scripted sequence of events that was supposed to take place within each of the racial starting towns. That's the Unity Arc. Or, rather, the 'Unification of the Races Arc.' Whatever you want to call it. In any case, it was supposed to allow each race's ruling council to kill off the sovereign or whatever ruling power that was already in control of the race. After that, the races would be allowed to party up and carry on however they wanted.

“Well, for whatever reason, the Unity Arc failed to trigger within the Human lands. Qasin, the King who was in power there, was never deposed by the Human Council. What's more, we've found out now that he actually went on to conquer the other two races that were situated on the same starter island, the Black-Wings and White-Horns, led them all into a massive battle against a White-Wing invasion and then up and disappeared from the starter lands entirely.

“Robert here," Gary paused and took a sip of the water that was in front of him, then gestured to where Robert sat beside him and continued, "Robert and I discussed it immediately after the incident took place. Well, immediately after the Unity Arc failed to complete, anyway, before all that other stuff happened, and he's assured me that everything was scripted correctly. He's good at what he does, and I believe him--not that I understand any of that technical mumbo jumbo snake talk anyway.

“But here's where things get interesting. The Unity Arc was so important we actually had people sit in on the council meetings. They went incognito, and through the use of the GM console even the NPCs couldn't tell the difference between them and one of themselves. Everything went swimmingly, except, as you know, within the Human lands. Nelson, our team member who was present at that meeting, reported the sudden appearance of a strange man. The summoning circle in the King's court suddenly lights up like a Christmas tree in July and out walks a man looking like a demon: broad-shouldered, pale skin, claws--the whole nine yards. Well, Qasin, the King, declares that his ultimate weapon of a warrior has appeared, hands him a soup spoon, and sends him off to do battle with the White-Horn and Black-Wing armies.

“But, hey, it gets even better. This demonic figure Nelson reported was wearing a bathrobe like he was summoned from the seventh circle of Hell in the middle of brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed or something.”

No one else had so much as made a sound during Gary's recollection of the Unity Arc or the appearance of the strange bathrobe-clad figure. For everyone present in the room, everything he had recounted was more or less common knowledge now. There really wasn't much more that could be said anyway. In truth, they really didn't know much more.

Robert took a sip from his mug of coffee and waited for someone else to continue. When no one ventured anything, he spoke up himself. "I've spent enough time going through the coding, both alone and with the help of several people here, that I can assure you that there's nothing present anywhere that would contribute to any of these events occurring.

“The code . . ."  Robert trailed off, trying to figure out how to put things in laymen's terms so everyone would understand. "The code used for every occurrence of the Unity Arc is roughly the same. Variables are different. They naturally point to or indicate different NPCs, rulers and councils throughout the game, but everything else is the same. There's no reason why, as far as I can tell, it would be different in this one instance within the Human lands than it would be anywhere else.

“I can also tell you we've tried to track down this mysterious bathrobe-wearing figure that Nelson reported seeing, and it's impossible. There's no indication anywhere in the user logs, registrations or character files that match anything even remotely similar in name or description. I even had Gary cross reference the item database for instances of bathrobes existing within the game world. They're not there. The object simply doesn't exist." Robert finished and took another sip of his coffee.

"Oh, but he does," someone else finally spoke up. Stephen, who was in charge of monitoring and maintaining the website and forums, had finally called up enough courage to lift his head and add to the conversation. "There are dozens, hundreds, if not thousands of threads open on the forums right now talking about that massive fight that broke out on the beach. Don't get me wrong, everyone seemed pretty stoked about the whole thing, but it's impossible to cover up the facts any more.

“We did a pretty decent job of dispelling any rumors that popped up before now. There were always random guys complaining about being killed by some freak in a bathrobe or getting slain by a spoon-wielding demon, but they were easy enough to dismiss as trolls and blatant attempts at getting attention from other users on the boards. Let's be honest. It was too weird to believe anyway. As for the King and what he was doing with the other races, there's enough mythology to support the idea that White-Horns and Black-Wings are created to be subservient races. We never even had to touch that one. Users jumped up pretty quickly to defend the idea and explain that it was just naturally part of the game progression. Heck, they were even pretty quick to jump on the idea of the White-Wings invading another race's island without provocation or warning. Turns out most of the players had a blast doing it and even managed to keep it off the forums until right before it happened. They all just assumed that it was a server-wide event being controlled by the GMs.

“Now, however, there's no chance of explaining what went down during that huge battle.  The King of the Human race showing up and indiscriminately killing everyone, normal mobs converted to have glowing red eyes and attacking . . ." Stephen was really on a roll now ". . . including the giant Hydra appearing out of the water, this mysterious bathrobe figure showing up and taking on the leader of the White-Wing invasion and killing him! There were even claims that a girl was even riding on the giant Hydra, using it as a mount and casting spells from on top of it! I couldn't even believe the lunacy myself until I saw clips from the in-game footage starting to show up. Oh, and don't even get me started on that stone magic that was cast towards the end of that fight."

Gary groaned, remembering the work that incident had caused. "Yeah. That. It took us hours of manually going in and unfreezing each individual character on each individual account to get them back to a playable status. Most of them actually unlocked themselves after the timer wore off in-game before we could even get to them. I know we've tried to maintain a hands-off policy when it comes to the game world, but that was unavoidable."

"Where did the Hydra come from?" Robert asked.

"Well, we can't be certain," Gary began, "but from the footage we've seen that's been posted around the net, it looks a lot like a dungeon boss that was staged at the end of the passageway of mines connecting the Human and White-Horn lands. There's a quest players have a chance of picking up from an NPC in Valcrest that would ask them to clear it from mobs so that normal travel through the mountain could continue. You know, a 'we desperately need you brave heroes to save us' kind of thing. I don't remember the details exactly, but I think the odds of triggering the quest were pretty low. Normally, players would just kill the mobs and try to escape the Hydra to cut some time off their trip. You'd have to venture back to the town after you were a high enough level to leave the island altogether to even be eligible for picking up the quest."

"I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that the mobs that were present were also from the mine then?" Robert queried further.

Gary shook his head in response. "No, they’re actually from a silver ore mine outside of Valcrest, the city that the players sacked, which makes them traveling in the same pack even harder to explain."

"So what would cause a mob to break its leash and roam that far out of its designated zone?  Kass mentioned before that she was chased a good distance by a group of Minotaur without them giving up and recalling, but that's pretty normal. Those would have been programmed differently. They were part of the White-Horn army and basically given free range. But a Hydra? From a dungeon? I'll need to go back and check the tethering limitations in the code and see if something is interfering with it. There might be a condition or exception I missed that's allowing the players to lure mobs such a long distance."

"Kass?" Charles suddenly asked from the opposite end of the table. Eyes around the table flitted over at him briefly as he spoke before they quickly lowered again.

"My daughter," Robert answered. "She's been playing the game for a while now."

Charles gave a small nod to indicate that he understood, but his eyes seemed to crinkle just a bit around the corners as he did so. It was so fast Robert would have missed it if he hadn't been looking directly at him.

"Well," Gary continued, "it's not unheard of for players to lure mobs and use them to get other players killed. I think there have been a few reports of something similar that have come through my inbox."

Stephen looked up and agreed. He had apparently gained a little confidence after speaking at length earlier. "There have definitely been posts on the boards complaining about basically the same thing. Players would be standing outside a camp aggroing mobs one by one and a higher-level player runs through the camp, attracts everything and leads it directly to them then sprints off. If the other players are casting spells or attack them and don't run away as well, all the mobs will switch aggro to them as the other guy sprints off into the distance and watches them die."

"But a Hydra? From a dungeon it shouldn't be able to escape at all? So far?" Gary shrugged, showing he didn't have an answer.

"Where is the Hydra now? Or any of the other mobs for that matter. We should be able to track them using GM functions, right?" Robert asked. "Did it return to its spawn point like it should have, or is it still roaming free? That could cause some pretty big issues if there's a giant boss just roaming around the starter islands freely."

"Good question," Gary responded as he pulled out his phone and punched in a quick text message. "I'll have one of the guys pull the ID number associated with it, and we should find out shortly.  We may not be able to track down our mysterious guest that way, but I'll my bet lunch we can get a number and location on a giant Hydra."

"Game on," Robert replied out of habit. He and Gary had a friendly ongoing battle of wagers to see who would come out on top and have to buy lunch for the day. Since his work load had dropped off so much recently, Robert had been either skipping lunch entirely or going home early for the day and eating late. As a result, they hadn't made a bet in a while.

Gary chuckled, then responded, "You know, you're betting against your own programming, Robert. If we can't find it, then it's on you, anyway."

"Hmmm . . ." Robert made a show of scratching his chin as he thought about it, tilting his head back slightly as if he were seriously considering the dilemma. "You might have a point there . . ."

"I'll take that bet," Charles suddenly spoke up again, his voice resounding with the ring of a man filled with confidence. "I'm willing to bet both your lunches that you're both right." Charles leaned forward from his relaxed position slightly as he said this, pointing his finger at them as he spoke, his elbow never leaving his knee. "You can find the ID associated with the Hydra, but don't have a clue as to where it is or what it's doing right now."

Eyes around the table grew wider and wider as he spoke. A few people even dared lift their heads and stare openly, mouths slightly agape as he spoke.

Charles shrugged and held up both hands as if to say 'let's see; anything can happen' before dropping them both down again. Robert couldn't help but notice the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he made the gesture though.

"Eh," Gary and Robert exchanged a quick glance before they both shrugged their own assent, almost in unison. "You're the boss."

"Well, while we're waiting," Gary continued, "we still have a few more things to address.  Whatever it may signify, that battle on the beach did give us a chance to find out how the game responds when there's a fight happening on such a massive scale. I don't think there were any major issues reported at all. It seems like everyone stayed synced to the server, no collision or detection problems, and, most surprisingly, latency didn't appear to be an issue at all. The software and the AI seem to have done an excellent job of handling all the flashy spells as well. I have to admit that even I'm impressed by how realistic it looked.

“I will note, however, that we've decided to remove the appearance of damage numbers from the game. All those thousands of numbers floating around as people gave and received damage was too confusing. Even watching the videos, I had trouble at times figuring out exactly what was going on or who was being hit. And, let's be honest, all those numbers floating around just don't fit into the aspect of realism we've tried so hard to achieve--they're actually detracting from it."

Several heads around the table nodded freely at this. It was apparently so obvious everyone else agreed, but no one had bothered to speak up about it.

"Robert," Gary turned to look at him as he spoke. "How hard would it be to stop showing those numbers floating around randomly?"

Robert was still nodding thoughtfully as he responded, then gave a slight shake of his head. "Not really a problem. Maybe an hour's work at most, depending on how long it takes me locate the exact call sequence. Do we want to remove it from all situations entirely? Players versus other players and players versus mobs as well? Fall damage? Interactions with the environment?"

"Yeah, just get rid of it all. The game automatically logs all damage to a file accessible through the in-game command menu already. If a player is really curious, it shouldn't be a problem for them to open up the file and take a look. Anyone have any objections?"

Gary's phone buzzed on the table in front of him and lit up showing he had a message as he finished asking the question. "Ah, looks like we have our answer," Gary said, scrolling through his phone to the message. "And the winner is . . ." He paused dramatically, while reading. "Our fearless leader, Dr. Charles. The ID for the Hydra still exists, and all indications seem to show that it's still somewhere in the game, but we have no idea where."

"So we've got a massive Hydra on the loose, possibly roaming around the starter lands, probably killing everyone and possibly slaughtering villagers and doing only who knows what. Oh, that's just peachy," Catherine, one of the design team leads alongside Gary, finally spoke up in her quiet, high-pitched voice. She was a short, thin woman with black hair and a piercing through her eyebrow. Her voice always had a softness to it that reminded Robert of someone whispering even when she was speaking loudly. It made him think she had to work extra hard to project her voice, like she wasn't used to it.

"Well, it could be worse," Stephen spoke up again "I haven't see anyone complaining about it yet. It doesn't take long for news like that to travel."

"Yes, but how long before it decides it needs a little snack and goes all Godzilla on another town? We still haven't even figured out a reasonable way to fix that mess in Valcrest the players created." Catherine wrinkled her nose and forehead as she said it, clearly showing she wasn't happy about having their game world destroyed so casually by the players. "I really hate it when people do stuff like that. Don't they, like, know how much work they make for us?"

"Yeah, but what can we do about it?" Gary asked. "We have to rely entirely on the users either submitting reports or complaints about it before we can act on anything. As it stands, we don't even have a solid method of tracking down any of these missing objects. The mobs, the Hydra, this mysterious figure . . . We have to either wait for them to show up somewhere and hope that we can catch them in time or wait on something to happen and the users to let us know. The only tools we have for it are either complaint and bug logs or messages on the forums."

"Which, as we know, are more often useless and unreliable than good data," Robert added. He had spent more than enough time searching through the boards for feedback on how changes he made were working and being responded to in-game to be familiar with the usual deluge of drivel that made up a large portion of the forums.

Stephen was nodding his agreement as he said, "Yeah. There's definitely enough of that, for sure. But, as it turns out, there's sometimes a kernel of truth even in the most outlandish posts. I remember when one guy posted about being killed by someone with a spoon. I actually laughed at my computer screen when I read it, thinking 'Man these guys will come up with anything.'"

"Yeah, I saw that as well," Robert said. "I brushed it off at first, but turns out the guy was actually on to something, not just crying for attention after all."

"Okay, so, once again," Gary began, clearly unhappy with the direction the conversation was going. "What can we do about it?"

"Well," Catherine started, "it would be nice if we could actually just use the GMs for what they're supposed to do. Use them to track these guys down. Don't we have the ability to move throughout the game world without being seen? Permanent invisibility and GM-level shields that prevent us from being hurt? Why can't we just zip around until we find this guy. It shouldn't be that hard. If he looks like what you described earlier, it shouldn't be hard to spot the guy. Look for the big, white clown with red eyes wearing a bathrobe, some spoons, a bunch of mobs and a giant Hydra following him around. The guy has to stand out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes."

"She has a fair point," Stephen agreed.

"Yeah, and then what?" Gary asked, pointedly. "What are we going to do once we find the guy. I mean, we're all assuming at this point that he's the locus of everything that's going on within Tiqpa.  Sure, that's great. But what are we actually going to be able to do once we find him? Kill him? If he's a player, he's just going to respawn and carry on about his merry way. Are we going to set a team of GMs to follow this guy around everywhere he goes and kill him over and over? Spawn camp him until he logs out in a fit of rage? Those kinds of things don't go unnoticed by the other players. They're going to know something is up right away, that we're giving this guy special attention for a reason. Imagine the backlash we'd receive for using GMs to repeatedly kill a guy over and over and make the game completely unplayable for him, especially without us having to explain why we're doing it.

“Maybe I wasn't clear earlier. This guy has no character data that we can find. There's no account or user information attached to the name 'Darwin' anywhere in our system. It doesn't exist. If there were, I would have just dropped a ban on the account and been done with it a long time ago when this whole mess started and never let it grow as out of control as it is now.

“No, even if we dedicate an entire team of people to stopping this guy, it won't work. He could just log out and log back in whenever he wanted. Even if we could figure out where his bind point was when we killed him, which, let me remind you, could be anywhere, it would take people watching it twenty-four hours a day. I don't want to be the one to babysit a bindstone all day every day just waiting for this guy to log in.

"And as for the response from the other players? Why are they going to think that we're doing it? Because a GM raged and decided to abuse his powers and take it out on a player? How long before we decide to do that to someone else and completely ruin their experience as well. We'd look like a bunch of children throwing a temper tantrum. It's not the way you operate a game, or a business for that matter, and expect to keep a loyal player base for long. Give them one reason to ever be suspicious of you, mistrust you or think that you're abusing your privileges and powers, and they will always point back to that as a reason for distrusting anything else you ever do.

"I've seen it too many times in too many other games. All it takes is one incident and enough people to see it, and it can create a domino effect. Before long there are going to be talking about how we're openly showing favoritism to certain players or races because of the changes we make. Like, for example, the change to the damage numbers popping up we just discussed. It may not be a big deal for people fighting mobs in small groups. Of course, I'm sure that there are lots of players who like knowing what their different skills and magic spells do as soon as they use them without having to open up a log file via the console in order to check. However, for people fighting other players, it's a much bigger change. You don't have numbers flying around the screen as you duck, dodge and dive around the screen. Suddenly we're showing favoritism to people who prefer fighting other players over those who just want to fight monsters and explore the world. No, it's a slippery slope."

Robert couldn't help but lean back in his chair and watch his friend as Gary reached for the water in front of him and took a long drink. "You alright there, buddy?" he asked. "Looks like you've given this a bit of thought already."

"You don't design an entire project on this scale without being able to think ahead to how even the smallest changes affect everything else," Gary answered, taking another drink of his water. "I've been trying to--"

"So what are we supposed to do?" Catherine interrupted him. "Nothing? Just sit back and watch whatever havoc this creates? Keep trying to ignore the issue and hope that it goes away? That it somehow solves itself?" She was clearly frustrated and annoyed by the entire problem.

"Yes," Charles responded as he leaned forward in his chair and began to stand up, buttoning his jacket as he did so. "That's exactly what we're going to do. Nothing." Then he walked out of the room, leaving the group staring at him as he left.

Chapter 1:  Spoons for Swords

Darwin:

Darwin stared out over the glass bowsprit at the ocean ahead. Sleep. What I would give for sleep, he thought, remembering how blissful it was to go to bed and wake up with a clear and refreshed mind. Nowadays, his brain felt like an old computer that couldn’t clear its temporary memory cache. If I’m not insane yet, I will be.

“Raise your arms,” Stephanie said as she came up behind Darwin, putting one hand on each side of his back.

“Are you . . . Are you trying to Titanic me?” Darwin laughed, turning around to look at the beautiful blonde girl.

“Shh, just go with it. Afterwards I can, like, paint you like one of my pretty French girls,” Stephanie said as she smiled.

“Does that mean this will end with one of us wet and hanging onto a piece of wood?” Darwin laughed dorkishly at his own bad innuendo. He had been stuck thinking about so many serious things, even good serious things, that he hadn’t actually just laughed and enjoyed his time in Tiqpa much. There were only ever sparse conversations with Kass or Stephanie that took his mind off his mission to care for his people or how little he knew about how to actually do that.

“I volunteer to be the one holding onto the wood.” Stephanie did an overly dramatic lurch forward like she was Rose climbing on top of a piece of the floating debris in the icy waters.

“Are you just saying that so I’ll be the one who goes down?” Darwin continued the perverted jokes, reminiscing about all the bad puns he had made when he was in highschool.

“Well, if you’re the one going down, I’ll still be wet, so what does it matter?” Stephanie countered.

“I guess not a lot. I didn’t think you’d be waiting for me in the cabin though,” Darwin said, looking over Stephanie’s shoulders to make sure no one could see them, “which is weird.”

“How so?” She asked, cozying up close and taking his hand.

“Well, it’s just, I never thought I’d ever get a girlfriend besides my video game, and now I’m dating a girl that’s part of a video game . . . and . . .” Darwin stumbled across his words, trying to put his thoughts together but also being keenly aware of Stephanie’s touch on his skin.

“And what? Like, it’s okay. I’m not going to make fun of you. You’re my first attempt at dating too,” Stephanie reminded him. “Not that there have been a lot of suitors, granite . . .”

“You mean ‘granted’?”

“Do I?” she gave a coy smile.

“Anyway, I just never thought my first dates would feel so sneaky, always having to hide the girl lest someone turns up dead.”

“I just take stunning to a whole new level. It’s not my fault so many people are blinded by beauty.”

“Mhmmm, beauty is it?” Darwin gave his first wry smile of the conversation. “I’m sure that’s the case. Wait, as a Gorgon, are you even comfortable being on the water? Not worried about another frat guy Poseidon incident?”

“Pssshhhh, Poseidon is all washed up. Not to mention, that’s just a myth the Greeks tell because they want to make it seem like a good thing that the only way Perseus could get head was through decapitation,” Stephanie joked, making fun of the Greek legends.

“You know, Perseus probably seems like a terrible frat guy only for those cursed by wisdom,” Darwin continued, punning on the Greek gorgon origin.

“Either way, Captain, we’re on course for smooth sailing,” Stephanie giggled as she gave a weak salute.

“Alright, well, if we’re on course for smooth sailing, how about we get some rest in the cabin. I could use it after everything we’ve been through.”

“Nuh-uh. You can take a rest only after you’ve gotten your lesson in with Alex. You might be my strong, fast and admirable hero, but you've been swinging those swords like a drunk gypsy dancer from Bulgaria in the 40s.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea. I wouldn’t mind learning how to be a ninja, or at least figure out how they always sneak up on me as if they have some magical ‘appear out of thin air’ skill.”

“Well, I can’t promise you’ll be able to sneak up on anyone, especially with no class abilities to help you or years of training, but you do need to learn how to stop someone from stabbing you in the back at the very least.”

“I’m convinced. You got me. I’ll go find them and get some training in,” Darwin said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Good boy. I’ll see you in the cabin later, and bring me some chocolate on your way back,” she smiled and then vanished even faster than Alex.

Where in the heck does one get chocolate on a boat in the middle of the ocean? Darwin thought as he went to go find Alex. I mean, this is a video game. Is there a magic vendor I don’t know about that appears on every boat? Darwin had a lot of other things on his mind like how he was going to deal with telling Kass about Stephanie.

“I heard you were looking for me, Lord Darwin,” Alex said, tapping Darwin’s shoulder as he pondered his gift-giving dilemma. Normally, Darwin wasn’t easily startled, but the combination of how deep in thought he was and the inexplicable tap attack on his shoulder was enough to make him almost leap out of his own skin.

“I need to give you a cowbell to wear wherever you go,” Darwin muttered loud enough for Alex to hear.

“A cowbell?” Alex thought for a minute, resting his hand on his chin in a contemplative gesture. “Ah, I understand. You wish for me to wear a cowbell as part of a special training regime to improve my sneaking ability? I am currently lacking as a forward scout and you are hoping this will help me.”

“Actually, no,” Darwin thought for a minute, trying to come up with an explanation that wouldn’t just be admitting Alex kept startling him. “That’s not it. It was only a joke.”

“Ah.” Alex pondered again for a minute. “I don’t get it. Is your joke funny?”

“To someone watching, I’m sure.” Darwin wanted to hold his head in shame. How could Alex say that with such a straight face? “Back to the topic of training though, that’s actually why I was looking for you.”

“Ah, you have special training you’d like me to undertake in preparation for future battles,” Alex nodded as if he already knew where the conversation was going. “I look forward to serving and learning under your tutelage.”

“Umm . . . No, that’s not it.” Darwin found it harder and harder to ask what he needed from Alex.

“Oh,” Alex’s face fell flat for a moment, then it perked up, “I’m sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusion, Lord Darwin, of course you’d want to hold a class for all the military personnel and not just myself. Shall I call an all hands formation?”

“No, I’d rather you didn’t because the thing is . . .” Darwin started slowly, and then decided to quickly rush his next sentence so that Alex wouldn’t get a chance to further tar his ability to ask. “I actually need you to train me.”

“I’m sorry, Lord Darwin. What was that?” Alex looked so shocked, Darwin couldn’t tell if he was feigning it or it was sincere.

“I need you to train me. I’ve never had a lesson with a sword, so I don’t know the proper way to use one.” Darwin wasn’t lying. He may have played dozens of video games and watched hundreds of hours of television and movies with sword fighting, but that was the extent of his education and none of it had soaked in--not a single tidbit of how to actually use a blade. It’s not like he could dance across leaves and do exaggerated motions during a fight as if this were one of the oriental action movies he loved, nor was it the case that he could wait for the camera to freeze every five seconds during a battle and pretend like it was an action movie. No, he had no experience or visual memory to draw on. He only had his instincts, and instincts without training can only get you so far.

“Lord Darwin, what exactly do you need training in? Aren’t you like the newcomers? I know no-one talks about them, but I’ve noticed enough to know that their system of education and training isn’t the same as ours,” Alex said with a hesitant expression on his face. “I’m not sure I’m the best one to train you.”

“Wait.” Darwin was about to explain his situation properly when he noticed Alex had mentioned something he hadn’t heard before from another NPC. “The newcomers?”

“Yes, those like you who only showed up in this world recently. They improve very quickly with combat experience and use a unique system to learn how to fight. I don’t know how I didn’t notice this when I was still Human, but after joining the faction and becoming a Demon, I began to put the pieces together from the conversations I had overheard. Little by little, I realized that they function in our reality with an entirely different set of rules.” When Alex finished his explanation, he looked at his spear and then back at Darwin. “The group we killed in the woods together . . . I saw them at the battle on the shore. It didn’t make sense. Even if they were capable of traveling faster than we were and reaching the battle before us, we had killed them. They should have been dead, yet they were alive again as if nothing happened. That’s when I put together everything I had overheard and realized that these people were different.”

Welp, the cat is out of the bag now for sure. Do I fill him in? Where is Kass or Stephanie to give me a cue on how I’m supposed to handle him discovering this. Darwin looked around, as if the combination of his desire to see them and the uncomfortable situation would somehow summon them out of thin air.

“Alex, do you know how the newcomers train?” Darwin did his best to skirt around the topic, still not sure whether or not he wanted to explain to an NPC that this was all just a game.

“I haven’t been able to figure it out. I can recall overhearing conversations about something to do with Tiqpa combat systems, but that’s it.” Alex returned his hand to his chin for tentative scratching. “Though, I’m sure Kass will be able to tell you. The way she disappears and reappears, when she showed up, the way she talks about things . . . She is definitely a newcomer.”

“Yeah, she is.” Darwin didn’t even bother trying to hide it that time. Lying wasn’t the best way to keep your troops loyal.

“Are you, Lord Darwin?”

“I don’t know what I am, Alex.” Darwin looked around for a minute, trying and failing to find something to change the subject with. Then, unable to find a new topic to change to, he pulled out a sword and went with the first one. “I’m only certain that I need combat training.”

“Alright, but I’ve never actually been an instructor, Lord Darwin, so please be patient with me,” Alex said, putting down the spear he always carried and pulling out two swords. “You are a dual-wielder, right?”

“I guess it has worked out that way, yeah,” Darwin said, pulling out his two Burriza’s Blades. He actually wanted to learn how to use the spear--after all, when he was playing his old MMO, Emerald Gardens, he had always liked being a Dragoon. As the great Arch Lance Ser NightVale, the unrivaled spear wielder of the StormGuard Alliance, he had grown to love using that particular weapon. The two swords that had dropped when looting the silver ore mine boss, however, were simply night and day stronger than the spears that had been for sale at the Blacksmith’s shop before he left Valcrest. “So, how do we . . .”

Before Darwin could even begin to ask what they were going to start with, Alex lunged at him with a right thrust. Darwin instinctively used his left blade to strike Alex’s unexpected attack away from him while parrying the follow up slash attack from the left with his right-hand sword.

“Incredible,” Alex said, jumping back from his first feint attack. Darwin almost felt proud for a moment at the compliment until Alex followed it up with, “I can’t believe you’re so good at fighting with such sloppy form.”

Yep, this is going to go swimmingly. “I’m good at fighting, but I lack form?””

“Yeah, you move like the blade is a part of you, and your reaction speed is astounding, but your movements are far too wide and excessive in nature--something very common from fighters with little to no form.”

“So, I’m basically relying on faster reflexes and movement speed to beat my opponents? Because I have no form?” Darwin nodded uncertainly. He wanted to make sure he understood what Alex was trying to convey.

“Indeed. You fight like a wild animal, concerned only with the goal of your actions and not the best methods to achieve them,” Alex also nodded. “It should be an easy enough fix though.”

“Oh?” Darwin pressed for a more precise answer.

“Yes. I plan to teach you form and root you in one of the great combat styles of the Human Empire. But first, I think first we just need to get you to understand that you don’t need to parry by a mile what you can evade by an inch,” he said, pulling something out of his pockets as he spoke.

“Excellent, just tell me what I need to do next.” Darwin understood the basic meaning of what Alex was trying to convey, but he also knew that converting theory into practice would be difficult.

“I need you to defend against me, using only these,” he answered, throwing two spoons for Darwin to catch. “Hold them like swords and get used to blocking when you don't have the advantage of reach.”

Darwin looked at the spoons for a minute, then looked at Alex, then looked back at the spoons. Why does this feel eerily familiar, like the spoon is a welcome sign for a new adventure? he thought as he stared at the soup-slaughtering weapons in his hand.

“I know it may seem odd, Lord Darwin, but this was also Stephanie’s suggestion. She had already anticipated your need for this type of training when she told me to find you.” He raised his swords again, preparing to attack once more.

Wait, does that mean the entire time I was embarrassedly trying to find a way to ask him for help, he already knew what I wanted? Darwin felt a strong urge to facepalm. Does that mean Alex actually has a sense of humor?

Before he could process the fact that Alex had not only managed to troll him, but also do it with such a straight face, Alex dashed at him with both blades. Darwin grabbed each spoon and readied himself for the incoming blows. At first, it felt absolutely ridiculous trying to stop two long swords from cutting him with just cutlery, but every attack he actually blocked gave him confidence in his movements and made them feel more natural. By the time he had stopped forty or fifty life-threatening swings--or at least swings that would be life threatening in the real world where things weren’t gauged by damage meters and health bars--he was beginning to feel like he had spent his entire childhood fighting with spoons.

So is this where I finally get my training montage? Darwin mused to himself as one minute of fighting off Alex’s relentless attacks melted into ten and then twenty and then forty. He was amazed that with the game’s core endurance and fighting systems he never ran out of stamina or got tired. Should I expect to have to run up some stairs, jump rope, do a few ridiculous workout routines and get a theme song after this?

Once the two hour mark had passed though, Alex suddenly stopped his attacks without warning and bowed his head. “With your permission, I’d like to excuse myself, Lord Darwin. I temporarily lost track of time, but I need to complete my duties and make sure everyone is still accounted for and properly taken care of.”

“Of course,” Darwin said, a little disappointed that the training was over. He had actually enjoyed the adrenaline rush he got from warding off and parrying the deadly attacks. “Do what needs to be done.”

“Yes, Lord Darwin.” Alex turned around to leave, but instead of just vanishing as he frequently did, he looked back at Darwin one more time and said, “I can’t remember if I’ve said it, but thank you, Lord Darwin. Captain Elmont really was right about you.” Then he darted off to handle more pressing tasks.

At first, Darwin couldn’t help but feel a little touched but then a little guilty for the thought that came immediately after. Welp, off to go play pirate on the high seas and see about plundering me some booty. Whatever guilt he felt, however, only lasted until he realized he still hadn’t asked Stephanie about what was going on between her and Eve and why Eve had wanted to stop them from getting together; instead, it was quickly replaced by concern.

Kass:

Kass yawned as she opened her eyes and stretched her arms above her head. Eugh . . . Why does it taste like a stray cat pooped in my mouth? I don't own a cat, do I? Dad never let me keep a cat, she wondered groggily, smacking her lips as she sat up and looked around for the glass of water she typically left on her nightstand. She knew first hand that the awful taste she was experiencing usually only came as an unfortunate side effect of drinking the night before. The only problem was that she had spent the better part of the night in Tiqpa gaming, not drinking. Not that a vodka tonic wouldn’t have been amazing to take the edge off, she thought, remembering all the tedious traveling she had been doing in the game lately--and not to mention all of the awkward conversations with Darwin. But if I wasn’t out at the bar last night, she puzzled, what caused me to have such awful dry mouth so early in the mor . . . Oh.

Rather than having to waste more time trying to figure out why her mouth had the smacking taste of an ashtray filled with stale cigarettes, she realized that the culprit was right there in front of her. Or, rather, underneath her: the outline of a rapidly drying pool of drool on her pillow. She self-consciously glanced both ways with a quick jerk of her head and darting of her eyes as if she were checking to make sure no one saw her. She knew no one would be in her room, especially while she was asleep, but that didn't stop her from checking anyway. Reaching down, she unceremoniously flipped her pillow over to hide the evidence and smoothed down the top of the pillowcase as if nothing had ever happened. She then checked herself in the mirror and, much to her relief, was pleased to find that the drool pool demon had left most of her face and all of her hair unaffected.

As she was wiping off her face, she realized she had a yellow sticky note stuck to the back the sleeve of the t-shirt she had slept in. I must have rolled over on it in the night, she thought, looking at the quickly scribbled memo containing the media company's hotline number.

She still wasn't sure what she was going to do with it. On one hand, as an out of work college graduate with a bad gaming habit that ate up more free time than watching sleepy kittens on YouTube, the money it promised was definitely a desperately needed bonus. On the other hand, however, she felt like calling the number would be betraying everyone. They had spent so much time together and gone through so much. The whole act of talking about Darwin’s guild and divulging information felt like it would be a stab in the back to the entire faction.

She tried not to think about it as she grabbed her fluffy, pink bathrobe from the closet, threw it on, and began meandering towards the kitchen downstairs. 12:00? Noon? She questioned herself as she passed by the clock hanging on the wall beside the stairs. Did I actually sleep past noon? When is the last time that’s ever happened?

“Don't tell me you're just now waking up,” Robert said as she plodded into the kitchen. He stopped typing and looked up at her over the laptop he had set up on the kitchen table. “Well, at least the coffee's fresh. I just made it.”

“Well," Kass grumbled in return as she tried to focus on getting her head to stay squarely on top of her shoulders until she could get some proper caffeine in her, "you can blame your stupid game’s traveling system.” Mornings are the worst. It gets harder to wake up every year. It’s like they’re trying to ease you into sleeping forever so death doesn’t come as a shock. “Whoever came up with the idea of 'Hey, let’s make a fully-realized, life-sized world for the player to navigate’ should have been made to walk across it himself and spend time considering how annoying it would be to traverse before even having a real mount.”

“So, you want the game to contain a system that lets you always magically appear wherever you need to be without having to travel?” Robert chuckled, “What would be the fun in that?”

“Well, maybe not always allow me to instantly get everywhere I want, but at least let me skip the areas that are tedious and only built for travel--like boat rides, for example.” Kass poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table next to her father.

“That doesn’t sound so bad, but there is still a problem with that,” Robert said, closing his computer and turning to give Kass his full attention. “You’d lose over half the world, ya' filthy landlubber.”

“Landlubber?” Kass looked at him, blinking in confusion. “Do people still say that?”

“Yeah. Do you think that boat rides are all smooth sailing? Don’t you remember that Pirates of the Caribbean movie franchise? The ninjas vs. pirate memes? Those days when yaaaaaarrrrrrrg was okay to say in public? And, most importantly, the times you could say landlubber to your daughter without her looking at you like you just said something like YOLO,” Robert explained as he got up to get himself another cup of coffee.

“Ewwww . . . Isn’t being stuck on the ocean awful enough as it is? Don’t tell me that I have to worry about getting attacked by a bunch of smelly pirates who haven’t taken a shower in three years or something. Wait . . . I don't, do I?” Kass frowned as she considered the idea of having a bunch of flea-ridden pirates suddenly attacking the ship with everyone on it.

“Kass, you’re the only person I know who gets that sick from a simple boat ride. Don’t act like we’re going to change an entire game function that we spent years developing just because the daughter of someone who works at the company gets seasick so easily.” He shook his head as he poured his coffee. “You shouldn't even be experiencing sea sickness in the game anyway. It's all just in your head. Although," Robert paused dramatically, "I suppose there is at least one form of nepotism that might help you . . .”

Kass already knew what he was going to suggest before the words even came out of his mouth. “Dad, come on, you know I can’t do that.”

“Hey, I’m just saying . . . Paying a little rent and helping out with some of your expenses  sure as hell wouldn’t hurt my feelings,” he grumbled. “It’s been a while, Kass. It’s a cushy job that most people would kill for the opportunity to get.”

It was also a job that actually meant she would have to give up playing her beloved video game, a game designed by her dad’s company, forever. The contract an employee signed when they joined said that they could only play on the test servers and that they weren't allowed to interfere or interact with the public servers at all. “Dad, we’ve already talked about this. Do we have to have the same talk again?”

“No. No, we don’t. Do you have any other job prospects?”

Kass’s hand instinctively squeezed the piece of paper with the number on it that she had held on to for some reason. “Yeah, you could say that I've got an iron in the fire. I’m just trying not to jinx it by talking about it.”

She was confident this would get him off her back, maybe for a week if she were lucky. Her dad wasn't the kind of guy who was superstitious enough that he wouldn’t pester her about the details, but she knew he wouldn't want to mess up her chances of getting whatever vague job she was referring to if she thought it would. That having been said, he did have some kind of magic dad-power to know when she was lying. She hadn’t been able to get away with just vague answers like that very often in the past.

“Alright, Pumpkin,” he said with a wicked smile. He knew it would irritate her to be called that. “I won’t pressure you, but you better not go at this half-cocked.”

“Fine, fine,” Kass grumbled, resisting the urge to get mad at him for calling her ‘Pumpkin’ when he knew how much it bothered her. “Now, where is my breakfast?”

“Do I look like your personal chef? And don't you mean lunch?” He feigned indignation, but took another shot at mocking her for waking up so late in the day.

“You’re missing an apron with something silly like, ‘I’m not getting older; I’m marinating,' but, other than that . . . Yep. You do!” Kass laughed as she sipped her coffee again. She wasn’t fully awake, but the caffeine was definitely starting to kick in.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I have to get back to work. After everything that's gone on lately, things are really starting to get a little hectic and pile up again.” He took another sip of his coffee and stood up. “Someone in the fight went around casting a petrification spell that was way more powerful than anything a player in the game should have access to at the moment. We had to dedicate a ton of time and resources to try and fix the problems it created.”

“Wait, a petrification spell?” Kass almost spit out her coffee at that little bit of news. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a Gorgon?”

“No," Robert shook his head with a small laugh. "It was definitely a petrify spell, but whoever cast it used such an advanced version that it permanently froze NPCs and turned players to stone for a full twelve hours.” Robert was doing the best he could to grab his coat and pour his coffee into a travel mug at the same time as he began moving around the kitchen. “Even the hardest bosses in the game shouldn’t be capable of freezing a player for more than a few hours; and, even then, they can be countered with high level magic. Those spells don't even last longer than a three- or four-hour timer when used on players.”

Wait, Stephanie was the one who froze everyone. Isn’t she a Gorgon? Why would she need to use class-based magic? Kass’s brain scrambled for a second. “Are you sure it wasn’t a Gorgon?” she asked again.

Robert stopped moving about getting ready and looked at his daughter questioningly. "Yeah, I'm almost positive. Why would there be a Gorgon? Oh, don't get me wrong, they're in the game alright, but only much later on. How would it get to the starter islands and just happen to show up at the moment that huge fight broke out?"

“Just . . . Just call it a hunch and look into it for me. Please.”

"I'll . . . See what I can find out." Robert promised, but he still looked curious. "I'm supposed to have a meeting with the illustrious Grand Poobah Charles this afternoon, but I'll try and work in some time to check it out afterwards. The last thing I need is to be late for my first private meeting with the mysterious owner of several multi-billion dollar corporations and have it be under bad circumstances. Not very many people have ever had the chance at a private meeting, and, even then, they wouldn't say much about what was discussed. It's almost like it was a very taboo, clandestine meeting or something.”

“Wow, and you want me to sign up and work for him?” Kass laughed at the horribly cliché TV boss figure.

“Well, the dental is pretty good," Robert flashed a big smile showing lots of teeth to prove his point as he reached for the doorknob on his way out. "Not to mention, you’d have the best carpool buddy, and he comes pre-equipped with all the cool dad jokes.”

"Yeah, okay, Dad, whatever you say."

Robert had just begun to turn the handle he was holding and leave when there came an abrupt knocking from the outside of the very door he was about to open. He paused, clearly shocked and uncertain about the unexpected surprise.

Her attention turning to the door, Kass suddenly realized that the sunlight which normally filtered into the kitchen through the opaque curtain hanging over the window was blocked out almost entirely by a shadowy form.

Robert cautiously opened the door halfway before saying, "Yes? Hello?"

Kass couldn't see who was behind the door since her father blocked her view, and it was only partially open to begin with, but she could clearly hear the deep voice that responded.

"Dr. Charles is ready for you, sir." The way he said it reminded Kass of being in the waiting room at a doctor's office when a nurse came in to announce the next patient. She was certain, however, that any man belonging to a voice that sounded like that would have horrible bedside manners. "The car is waiting around front. We will take you to meet him."

Robert nodded to the man behind the door as he spoke. "Hmm, alright. I wasn't expecting a chauffeur, but why not?"

As her dad swung the door open to give him enough space to exit the kitchen, Kass was able to catch a glimpse of the man her father had talked with. It became readily apparent why the sunlight had been blocked out: the man was massive. He was so tall that she was almost certain he would have to duck to enter through the doorway, and he was thicker around than most of the trees throughout the neighborhood. Kass was immediately reminded of some of the larger football players she had seen on TV when her dad watched ESPN.

“Ugh, he really needs to stop ragging me about getting a job before I go crazy and start talking to myself in the kitchen,” Kass mused as she got up and went to the fridge to see what she could dig out for food. Oooo! Pop-Tarts! The food of my people, she mused to herself as she noticed them in the vegetable section of the fridge. Her dad had a way of trying to hide foods he wanted to eat in the vegetable section, confident that Kass would never open that drawer. At least he didn’t put them on the top shelf of the cabinets, she chuckled to herself as she grabbed the box and started to open it. That was so mean. Then again, the only reason he’s probably not doing it is because I used to scratch the counter tops climbing on top of them as a kid to get up there.

“So what do I do about you?” Kass muttered aloud for some reason as she stared at the number on the paper.

After devouring her Pop-Tart like it was the last sheep in a cyclop’s cave, she picked up her phone and finally gave in to temptation.

It didn’t even ring a second before a friendly female voice answered: “Hello! This is G.O.R.N! The Gamer’s Official Review Network.”

“Yeah, great, I’m calling about the offer you--” Kass started explaining, before she was interrupted.

“Someone will be with you in just a moment to take your call. Please enjoy the music while you wait,” the lady’s voice continued.

What? What happened to robots that sounded like robots? Who puts a long pause after an introduction? Kass tried to feel less stupid about talking to the answering machine like it was a person. That said, the music wasn’t half as bad as some of the other stations that insisted on playing country or another awful mix of repetitive, downer tunes. Most places she was used to calling seemed to pick out their melodies based on ‘What is most likely to get a person to hang up and commit suicide.’

“This is Kerrigan from G.O.R.N. How can I be of service?” a peppy voice finally broke into the repeating chorus of the song.

“Wait, your name . . . your real name is Kerrigan?” Kass had to stop herself from snickering.

“Yes. Yes, it is. I have absolutely no relation to anyone named Sarah though, so please don’t ask. Now, before we get sidetracked, whatchya callin’ for?”

“Oh, right! I’m calling about the cash offer made last night for an interview with the Hydra-riding lady on Tiqpa.”

“Excellent! So tell me what information you have on her. We haven’t been able to get even a single bit of info on her yet, so give me what you have, and I’ll write it down with your name and address. If it turns into a good lead, we’ll send you $50 and some complimentary station memorabilia as thanks.”

“Actually, I’m the girl who was riding the Hydra.” Kass could actually hear her sigh on the other side of the line as soon as she said it.

“Okay, okay, you’re the fourth one today.” Kerrigan sighed. “Look, do you know how to access the past 24 hours of playtime and put together a game clip?”

“Yeah, I know how to do that,” Kass said, happy for the first time since she got the game that her dad had made her actually read the manual and had gone over all the features with her.

“Oh, that’s a surprise. Everyone else who called didn’t even know that was possible. So that’s great! Then can you put together a one minute clip of your choosing from during the fight to send to the station?”

“Yep.”

“Good, then put together that clip and send it as well as a number you’d like to be contacted at to ImNotSarah@aol.com.”

“You still use AOL? I thought that went extinct with the dinosaurs. Did you get a free AARP subscription with the account?”

“ . . . Just send the clip.”

“Okay, will do.”

“Great, we’ll call you after we confirm you are who you say you are. Look forward to talking to you then.”

Kass hung up the phone and went upstairs to pick out the clip. She knew she would have to be careful about what clip she sent. She needed them to be able to confirm that she was who she said she was, but she also needed to make sure that she wasn’t giving away important details about the StormGuard Alliance.

She finally gave up on finding a clip that showed off her good side and decided to just randomly put together a clip of one of the fight scenes that didn’t involve a conversation and submitted it. She had titled the email, “Whatever you say Ghosty, how’s Jim?” She still wasn’t sure if she made the right decision and was nervous about even doing this since it felt a little sleazy to be making money off work that was mostly Darwin’s.

She was about to beat herself up about the whole thing when her phone rang. It hadn’t even been two minutes since she had sent the email when her cell phone started buzzing. Unknown Number. Great, it’s either them or yet another telemarketer.

“Hello?” she answered, trying to make sure it was the people from G.O.R.N before she identified herself.

“I am telling you, I have no relation at all to any Sarah or Jim! Well, actually, I have a dog named Jim, but his last name isn’t Raynor! Though he is fine, thanks for asking,” a voice fussed at her over the phone.

“Whatever you say, Kerrigan. I take it you got my email?”

“Yeah, I did, and you are definitely the Hydra-riding girl in question. Dang, it was amazing just watching that clip. I already emailed it to my boss, but since they don’t get in until they’ve finished doing golf or whatever it is old people do nowadays to avoid work--you know how bosses are--I’m supposed to set up a preliminary meeting with you to discuss the interview and go over all the financial terms. For one interview, you’re probably looking at only two to three thousand dollars . . . Maybe five if you work your cards right and have some unique information to offer. They’ll also want to see some clips, and you’ll have to go over exclusivity rights before any money is paid. So, what time is good for you, you know, to have the meeting?”

Kass was sure she was supposed to stop Kerrigan from going on, but the second $2,000 had been mentioned for a single interview, her mouth promptly touched the floor. Her dad was bugging her over $500 dollars of rent a month, and, yes, she knew she was spoiled, so two grand was a really big number to her. That said, when the number grew to $5,000, she wasn’t really able to process it anymore. If the amount of drool that had escaped her gaping mouth over the course of a night was considered a puddle, then the drool pool under her dropped jaw was already collecting enough to be a veritable sea.

“Hello?” Kerrigan said again after a long pause. “I didn’t lose you, did I? Ugh, I hate my cell phone provider. Why is there only one alternative? It’s like picking anything from banks to politicians has to always be the less stinky of two turds. Come on, don’t tell me I lost you, girl. My boss will kill me if I lost rights to the biggest exclusive in Tiqpa this month. Tell you what: I’ll talk to the boss, and we’ll see if we can get you $6,000. Just say something. Tell me you’re on board, and please don’t hang up to go see if you can get a better deal elsewhere. I’ll lose my job! Then how will I feed my zer . . . how will I pay rent?”

“Were you about to say zerglings?”

“No, why would I say that? Just to see if you were still listening? Me? Never.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll come in. I think tomorrow or maybe even today is going to be good for me. Can I email you the best time?”

“Sure, do what you have to do and shoot me an email. If today is good for you, the boss gets in around two, so any time after that, he’ll be able to organize the screening. I promise we’ll make this worth your while. Just put together some good clips so we can make a great deal.”

“Alright, will do.”

“Oh, and one last thing . . .”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know the guy in the bathrobe? Is he a player or an NPC?”

“I . . . I’m not sure I can tell you that.”

“Wow, cryptic much? Anyways, email me what time is good for you. I guess now I can say I look forward to seeing you.”

Kass exchanged parting pleasantries with Kerrigan and went to go log on to Tiqpa. Now I just need to figure out how much more boat time I have, Kass thought, logging into the game against her better judgment. After all, every moment she was logged in while the ship was rocking meant she had to deal with the awful queasy feeling that came with the churning motion of a boat on the water. She stepped out of the cabin she had logged off in and was immediately greeted by Valerie and Mclean.

“Oh! How are you doing, Lady Kass?” Valerie asked cheerfully with a smile so big Kass couldn’t tell if it was fake or not.

“Ummm,” Kass held her stomach in the hope of putting off the inevitable vomit, “I’m . . . I’m okay. How much longer till we reach land?”

“I don’t know. A few hours. Daniel went out to fly around and check on everything, but we haven’t heard back from him in an hour. Figured it was a good chance to catch up on girl time. Want to join?” Mclean sounded as chipper as Valerie did.

How do people stay this cheery on such an awful contraption as a boat? Kass wondered, doing her best to choke down the inevitable upchuck. “No. No, I need to go do something.”

“Ah, gonna join Darwin and Alex for spoon sparring?”

“Spoon sparring?”

“Yeah, Darwin was dual-wielding spoons and sparring with Alex all morning. I was honestly a little reluctant to log on just to wait on a boat, but then I saw Darwin sparring with cutlery. It was a mix between, ‘Wow that’s a magnificent sparring match’ and ‘How much more ridiculous could this guy get?’”

“Uhh, no, I need to do something in the real world. Just wanted to see how much longer we had.”

“You have until around mid afternoon if you want to be safe about it. I didn’t expect the trip to be this long, but Justin Yoo said Darwin shifted course to a more eastward point. No idea why, but it does mean less chance of running into any White-Wings wondering why we left the faction.”

Okay, good, that means I can make it there and be back in time, Kass thought, looking at the two and then looking at the door. I really don’t want to be rude to our new faction members, but, “Alright, ladies, I have to run. Work stuff. See you ‘round!”

“Later!” the two of them waved bye to her as she rushed back into the cabin and logged off.

Even as she returned to reality she could still feel the gentle rocking on the insides of her stomach as her breakfast tried to escape. This game is too real for its own good. Sometimes it feels less like logging into a game and more like traveling to an alternate dimension.

Qasin:

Qasin looked at each side of his boat as a group of eight half-woman, half-reptile, scaly sea creatures climbed up the sides of the small, black sailboat he was steering. Each one had the upper body of a beautiful woman and the lower body of a very large and long serpent and was carrying a trident and net in her hands as they all made their way onto the craft.

“If you chop up a human and serve him with rice and seaweed, does it still count as sushi?” one of the Mermaids said to the other as she stood upright on her long snake-like tail, the others following suit.

“That all depends, how slimy and scaly of a man is he?” One of the darker-scaled ones laughed, adjusting her trident and net into a battle ready stance as she crept closer to Qasin and the boat’s wheel.

Qasin didn’t even bother moving or deign to give them a response. He didn’t have to. He could just tell by how they moved that they were slow and weak. Struggling to even pull themselves up with weapons in their hands, gravity and the elements alone were an enemy to these creatures who had been spoiled by the weightlessness of the sea. Like sponges in fresh water, they had grown soft and lost all chance of victory in a real battle. It was why they leaned on underhanded tactics, ambushing the untrained and relying on their superior numbers.

“Oh, we have one that is scared speechless. This should be fun.” A reddish-scaled one started twirling her trident like a baton--a difficult task considering its length--as she slithered closer to the statuesque Qasin.

“Well, I for one am happy for a change that our prey is silent,” one of the slimy guests chuckled to her cohorts. “The main course at a dinner party shouldn’t beg. It’s unsightly.”

As they jabbered on, Qasin pulled out his sword and rested it gently against his leg. Even though he wasn’t waving it around, the message was clear: he was, without a doubt, holding it as if threatening to transfix the first slithering creature to come within arm’s reach. The women, noting his confident posture, reeled back momentarily before casting their nets at him.

Before the nets could even spread out in the air, he had already dropped his weight, shifted his balance and shot out under them, transpiercing the closest mermaid on his right through the chest with his blade. As she let out a blood-gargled scream from the pain, he took his free hand and grabbed the haft of an incoming trident on his left side. Instead of trying to push against it, he yanked it behind him, throwing the trident into the side of the boat and pulling the wielder off balance. The look of shock on her face as the force jerked her forward quickly became the last expression she ever made as Qasin’s sword ripped free from his first victim’s chest and slashed straight through his second victim’s head, lopping it off just above the jaw line.

“Careful! He’s not going to go down easy!” The one furthest in the back yelled at her comrades, but they didn’t listen. Two more of the snakes threw their tridents at him, yet he easily parried one and grabbed the other with his left hand. As the now defenseless fiends tried to turn and run, he hurled the trident back at them, impaling the furthest scaly wretch in the back of the head. He then lunged forward and slashed the other of the two right between the shoulder blades.

“Run!” One of the small group of remaining attackers yelled, abandoning all hope as the last three snake-women went for the sides of the boat.

Qasin just smiled. Weak, soft bodies. They move like sand trying to squeeze through the center of an hourglass, he thought to himself as he hunted down and skewered, sliced, pierced and rended each of one his three slow victims before they could make it over the sides. The last one, pinned to the very railing she was trying to jump over, squirmed.

“Pleas . . . pl . . . let me . . . ive,” she managed to spit out, the loss of blood and crushed lung interrupting and drawing out her useless pleas for mercy.

“It is, as you said, unsightly to see people beg before they die,” Qasin mocked, ripping his sword free and splitting her right down the middle.

“Oh dear, after all the trouble I went through to procure us a small enough boat for you to pilot, you go and ruin it with all these stains,” Eve called out from behind Qasin, causing him to turn and look at her. “What? Don’t look at me. I’m not cleaning it up. You made the mess. You swab the deck.”

“Let the rain take care of it,” Qasin muttered, walking back behind the wheel. “It’s not like red and black don’t go together anyway.”

“Fine, rain. But if it doesn’t come off on its own, you’re paying someone to clean it up when we dock.” Eve paused, then let a wicked grin cross her face. “You’re just happy you had something entertaining to do for a change, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” Qasin nodded, settling his hands back on the ship’s wheel.

“Good. Can’t let your blade dull, either. We have a lot to do in the future.”

“I know, but I don’t think any amount of practice will ever prepare me to fight your friend Stephanie. I don’t think the others could see, but I could. I watched her fight, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for that.”

“Awww, is my strong, little knight growing nervous?” She moved closer, placing one hand on his shoulder.

“Realistic. I think we need a plan if we’re to stop her before she uses your brother to complete her plan.”

“Don’t worry. She may have planned this for a long time, but I’ve been planning how to handle her for almost three decades.” Eve’s usually coy smile faded and a serious expression took its place. “I won’t let her plan come to fruition--not if I can help it.”

Qasin didn’t say anything. He just put one hand on Eve’s shoulder and looked out over the water.

Chapter 2: Stomach Pains

Darwin:

“Great Lord Darwin, I see you’ve been hard at work training!” A voice called out as it approached him.

Darwin turned around to see the male of the three White-Wings he had taken into his faction approaching him. He had apparently just returned from his scouting mission for the StormGuard Alliance. “Well, I was going at it pretty hard, but my trainer went off to take care of some business. Now I was just thinking about going into the Captain’s cabin for some rest,” he said, suddenly becoming conscious of the fact he was holding two spoons like they were deadly blades.

“Yeah, that trainer of yours has some interesting methods,” Daniel noted as Darwin quickly put the spoons away.

“If they work, they work. I trust him well enough,” Darwin said with a shrug.

“That’s true, and you’d know best. Speaking of which, something's been on my mind since we watched you at the beach battle earlier. How come you never use any moves? I mean, you’re at least Level 40, right? Shouldn’t you have some cool skills you can activate? Don’t most people pick their professions around Level 30?” Daniel asked.

“Wait, so you’ve given up on treating me like an NPC?”

“I have now. I figured your response to a question like that would let me know if I needed to keep up with the Great Lord Darwin stuff. Wait, I don’t need to keep up with that, do I? That’s just what you make the NPCs call you, right?” Daniel looked nervous for a moment like he was trying to sneak around at night, one of the floorboards had creaked loudly, and now he was waiting for a moment to see if anyone heard it.

“No, you don’t have to call me that. I don’t think I even asked them to. They just started doing it on their own,” Darwin said, causing Daniel’s momentary look of anxiety to fade. “Not that I don’t enjoy it. It sure beats the heck out of the things I used to get called.”

“Dork? Geek? Nerd? Dufus? Idiot? Dweeb? Loser?” Daniel started to list off some familiar insults.

Darwin thought for a moment about correcting him, telling him that, no, it wasn’t those but rather an entirely different set of insults he had gotten on a daily basis. Things like: ‘freak,’ ‘monster,’ ‘experiment,’ ‘soulless,’ ‘dog boy’ and the other random insults that had been lobbed at him when his classmates had noticed his strange physique. It was just the natural reactions of any child to something he doesn’t understand, but they were still biting insults none the less. Not that adults were better--it was just that by the time he had reached adulthood, he was already so well accustomed to hiding who he was that no one was given the reason to cast such malicious remarks at him. After considering it for a moment, Darwin decided to just agree with him instead. “Yeah, some of those, for sure.”

“It’s okay. I used to get them too. My dad was an avid gamer, so I followed suit like a good son. I even beat the old NES Contra without losing a single life,” Daniel said as he played with an imaginary NES controller using his hands for visual effect. “So yeah, been there, done that, glad the VR came out.”

“Heh, that’s very impressive. Anyways, you were asking me about skills?”

“Oh, yeah, Chief, I wanted to know why you don’t use skills in combat. I mean, I’m a Scout-type Rogue, so most of my skills are only usable outside of combat, but even I got a few good ones when I finally made up my mind and picked out my specialization.”

“You picked a specialization? And you were Rogue then a Scout?” Darwin was more curious now than he had been earlier as to how spoons were a necessary training tool against anything other than a ramen demon.

“Well, uhh, no. You pick a starting ‘type’ of Base Class, then you pick a Job Class for it. For instance, there are a ton of different Rogue-type jobs, but, because I wanted to specialize in movement speed and stealth, I picked the Scout Class instead of one of the other more popular Rogue jobs like Assassin or Thief that might be more useful for other things.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was logged into this world so fast I didn’t even have a chance to change my name?” Darwin laughed to himself at his own private joke.

“Did you just, like, do the VR equivalent of button mashing the whole way through?” Daniel cocked an eyebrow at Darwin.

Darwin wondered if stomping on a burglar’s face over and over again counted as button mashing. “Something like that, yeah. All I know is that, as soon as I ran into this game, I was already in Tiqpa, and before I had a chance to complete the tutorial, I was already in combat.”

“Dang, talk about a trial by fire. So you haven’t gotten to the skill section of your tutorial then, I take it?” Daniel nailed it on the head. “Have you ever thought of just loading the tutorial back up and going through it again?”

Darwin had touched the tutorial once or twice, but most of it had been originally locked due to his unique race and class. Whereas Daniel was a Rogue Scout, Darwin still didn’t even know how to access his skills. “I thought you said you were a gamer . . .” Darwin decided to just appeal to Daniel’s gaming nature. No gamer would want to go through a tutorial, even if he wanted all the information inside.

“Fine, fine, don’t do the tutorial, but at least let me walk you through some of the basics. I’d hate to think my new boss in the game got killed because he didn’t even know how to use skills, not that I see that happening anytime soon. First, let’s start with the basics. Use the Tiqpa thought controls to open up your main menu. Just think ‘Tiqpa Main Menu,’ and it’ll bring you to the main menu instead of the character screen they usually like to start you on.”

Darwin followed along quietly as Daniel explained the system, nodding as Daniel covered each point.

“Okay, once you get there, you should notice that there is a series of buttons underneath your character screen, do you see them?”

“Yeah, I do.” Darwin said with a little bit of open-mouthed wonder as if noticing them for the first time. Why didn’t I think to check for this? he thought as he read through the list. Character Screen, Inventory, Friends List, Map . . . Skill Tree. There it is! Ugh, why didn’t I check it sooner? “So what now?” Darwin asked as he opened it up.

“Okay, now that you’ve got the Skill Tree tab open, you’ll see a series of choices you’ll have to make and specializations you’ll have to pick from. Basically, the further in the game you go, the more you’ll have to make your character fit you. For instance, when I hit Level 30, I had to pick between three different trees a Scout can take: Lightfoot, Tracker and Guerrilla. I took the Lightfoot tree because it boasts stealth and speed-related skills that help Valerie, Mclean and me get around more easily. Speed wins wars, and travel time is definitely the worst part of most games.” Daniel leaned against the glass rails as he kept talking.

“So, you picked a Job Class that doesn’t specialize in combat in a game where fighting is the only way to level?” Darwin thought, thinking the notion was kind of off.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that, but I did it mainly because this game isn’t just about fighting. Sure, combat gives you experience, but the blade going in and out of an enemy isn’t the only part of combat that matters. I mean, if we were fighting some trash mobs, how long would it take to actually kill them?”

“Ten? Twenty seconds? A minute? It depends how large the camp was . . . Oh, I see.”

“Right. Even though the experience comes from the kill, a lot more goes into the kill than just your blade or my dagger sliding into the back of some desert bug. Even if it increases the time it takes to kill an enemy by ten or twenty more seconds, effectively doubling it, if it halves the downtime from three or four minutes to one or two minutes, wouldn’t you say the rate I gain experience would be a lot higher?”

“I’m guessing Lightfoot has skills that help out your surrounding allies with their speed issues too, or else it would be useless. If you still have to wait around for your allies to catch up, wouldn’t that mean you’d have to either go solo or travel with a group of only other Lightfoots to take advantage of the reduced downtime?”

“Yep. That’s dead on the money. For every Lightfoot that you're grouped with, the entire party will move a little faster. Abilities only stack so much, but a group of three flight-friendly Lightfoots, for instance, can easily outpace almost everything else in the game by a mile. Granted, though, that’s only because every choice I’ve made on my skill tree I’ve pushed towards group-oriented speed buffs.”

“So, I take it other Base Classes besides Scout have that option?”

“Yeah, but you won’t see it often. In that fight on the beach, I didn’t see even a single party designed with augmentation in mind, which is good because even you’d have to struggle if you fought a well put together team of PvP-oriented players who knew how to stack buffs and synergize their auras and shouts to properly compliment one another. Ten warriors who only specialized in pure damage skills and focus can’t do more damage than ten buff-focused warriors.

“Hmm, I’m guessing the damage classes do a lot of damage then to make sure people don’t just only pick skills that improve the group?”

“Yep. It’s all about getting the group to work together, especially since each additional version of the same group buff will have diminishing effects. That’s why at a certain point, a group will still want damage-oriented classes in the mix that aren’t focused solely on buffing since they’ll get the full boost of the buffs, and the benefits will work out better for the party.”

“I see. How exactly do the skills work?”

“Well, if a melee class thinks about doing a combat skill while completing the activation movement, it’ll activate the skill and create the effect. For example, it isn’t a class specific skill, but White-Wing dagger-wielders naturally get a skill called ‘Dive.’ All we have to do to activate the skill is think about diving and tightening the wings and just dive at the enemy of our choice. Then, instead of normal damage when we hit, it will give us a damage bonus based on our speed of impact. It works out well with the Lightfoot class because it’s the only skill we have that we can stack our speed with the impact of the skill and deal out practically four times our standard damage per blade. It’s almost always a one-shot kill on NPCs under our level.”

“Wow, and here I thought I was rigged.”

“Well, you still have to reach the enemy and manage to land the attack before he dodges or parries. So, as you saw during the battle, it's a lot more effective on low-level NPCs who don’t have built-in combat reactions than it is on players who are fighting for their lives. I think part of the reason the White-Wings didn’t crush the opposition before you even showed up was because they were cocky, arrogant and unprepared for any real defense. Their confidence was too high from clearing easy prey, and they didn’t know how to handle enemies that would actually fight back properly.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that feeling. A lot of them barely even moved, like they were in shock when I dodged one of their dives. I think I saw one guy’s mouth open in horror when I moved to the side and sliced him in half with his own momentum.”

“Ouch. Easy, boss. That might be me one day if I go against someone who is faster than I am,” Daniel said as he cringed. “I’ve only died once so far in this game, but it wasn’t an experience I want to repeat again, much less from being cleaved in half by a guy in his bathrobe.”

“Hey, this bathrobe is fashionable!” Darwin did his best to defend his choice of attire as he looked down at his now-treasured wardrobe.

“I have no doubt you believe that,” Daniel smirked. “Though, if I was going to go around in a real world outfit, I’d pick a tuxedo or something. Call me agent Moon, Moon Moon.”

“Dangit, Moon Moon,” Darwin played along with the meme.

“Of course, I’d make sure my tuxedo was nice. You wouldn’t want to go all Jackie Chan and end up with a bad tuxedo right before a fight.”

“Jackie Chan wore a tux?” Darwin had watched and loved almost every one of the action star’s movies, but he didn’t remember him ever dressing up before his fights.

“Oh, don’t you remember that one movie, The Tuxedo? Anyways, back to the earlier topic. Since you probably haven’t selected a skill tree yet, given you didn’t even know where the menu was, you should only see three descriptions of available specializations, right?”

“Ah, yeah. I don’t think I’m going to find much on the forums to help me there,” Darwin said as he brought back up the skill menu.

“Well, if you want, you can always come to me for help, but otherwise I’m going to leave you to it for a moment. Don’t want to cramp your style and have you accidently Forrest Gump the decision because your annoying new subordinate was talking your ear off during the selection process.”

“Thanks, and thanks for the gamer-friendly tutorial. I’m just glad no-one else got as detailed an explanation as I did about class combat and mix-and-match party boosting skills, or I might not have lived this long.”

“No problem. Even if they had been given those type of explanations, it’s likely that everyone still would have gone damage-only classes and skills. People are selfish, and while they understand the significant impact of cooperation and team-oriented combat, they still want to be that one damage-dealing guy who takes all the glory. It’s just like basketball or soccer: everyone wants to be the guy shooting the ball, and no one really remembers or watches the people who support him. Blame society, not the tutorial.”

“What about Valerie and Mclean?”

“They’re like me. Teamwork-oriented, but, then again, there is a reason the three of us got to Level 40 before almost every other White-Wing, and there is a reason we do so well together. Birds of a feather, you know.” Daniel gave a wry smile to go with the terrible pun.

“Yeah, I know. Anyways, thanks again for the help.”

“No problem. See you round, Boss. Also, you may want to remember and consider all this helpful advice I’ve given you when it comes time to talk about a raise, or at the least when it comes time to divvy up a dungeon’s spoils.” Daniel tipped an imaginary hat and turned to strut off down the deck, but he made it only a few paces before Valerie and Mclean showed up and stopped him where he could still be seen by Darwin. Darwin chuckled in amusement as Daniel's attempt at a suave exit came up short.

Alright, time to check out these skill trees, Darwin thought excitedly, getting back to business. He had done very well for himself--or at least he thought he had--without a skill tree, so he felt confident that an extra level of abilities and powers would only make his job that much easier. He was also excited because, as Daniel pointed out, it seemed like Level 30 or 40 was the big milestone for actually accessing anything besides the original Base Class skills.

When Darwin finally pulled up the ‘Skill Tree’ menu, he was greeted with two prompts right away filling him in on the different options.

Congratulations! You have become the Leader of a Faction with more than fifty members! Faction and Guild leaders that surpass the minimum population requirements are given a bonus skill tree on top of their chosen specialization skill tree based on their Class. As a Soul Knight, your bonus skill tree is: Dread Commander. Unlike normal specialization skill trees that will offer skill choices as you level up, this tree will only offer skill choices as your Faction or Guild grows more powerful. How powerful your Faction or Guild is will be based on its population, average Level, total resources, and amount of territory controlled.

Well, this is going to get a whole lot more complex than I imagined, Darwin thought as he read it to himself. He was good with numbers, but without a calculator on hand he was really hoping the game did all those calculations for him. Some games did, which left him hopeful that this one wouldn’t be any different, but others considered even DPS calculations something each person should figure out on their own--even though half the numbers were hidden and the player would have to bust out fraps and other tools just to find out simple things like attack speed. Wait, how would you even do that with a virtual reality game? Darwin suddenly became curious as to how third party applications would run on the type of console needed to operate this type of device. He had never downloaded a game or played an MMO without immediately looking at CURSE and other third party add-ons. Darwin then looked at the second prompt.

You have reached Level 40! You may now take on a specialization for your Job Class. There are three different specializations the Soul Knight can choose from:

Soul Fiend: A Soul Fiend feeds off the essence of souls harvested during battle. They are granted special skills and passive abilities that buff and enhance them during combat. The more enemies that are killed by a Soul Fiend during battle, the stronger the Soul Fiend will become. A Soul Fiend also receives a boost to the skills Soul Eater and Soul Collector.

Spirit Siphoner: A Spirit Siphoner specializes in stealing and manipulating the enemy’s spirit. This can take the form of draining an enemy’s life or even converting an enemy before a fatal blow has been dealt. A Spirit Siphoner also receives a boost to the skills Soul Sever and Soul Collector.

Blood Blade: A Blood Blade specializes in harnessing their life force and channeling it into offensive combat skills. A Blood Blade is given skills that sacrifice the user’s Health in order to deal single target or AoE Damage. The Blood Blade is also given the ability to harness and use blood as a weapon during combat.

This feels like a decision I shouldn’t rush into. It’s not like some sort of shotgun wedding from the 1900s, Darwin thought as he looked over each one of the titles. Ugh, no real particulars or stats mentioned on any of the skills, he grumbled. He had come to expect it from the game. He had even been glad when the damage per hit notification system stopped working. It wasn’t that it wouldn’t have been helpful for others, but for him it was absolutely useless given he had no way of knowing how many hit points the enemies had.

As he looked through one skill after the other, Darwin could only become more and more confused as to what to do. There wasn’t really an augmentation skill to help him out like Daniel had taken, and he wasn’t sure he could always rely on there being a full party with him like Alex might be able to. Then again, there would likely be plenty of scenarios where just he and Kass would get stuck, and Kass already had spells that augmented his damage and speed.

The Soul Fiend buffs don’t seem to help anyone but me. Stack that fact with the buffs from Kass and others, and I probably shouldn’t go with Soul Fiend, so that leaves two choices, Darwin slowly puzzled the scenario out. Now, between the two remaining, I’ve got either Blood Blade or Spirit Siphoner. Quick Damage in a pinch can definitely be the difference between life and death, especially with how many hits these bosses are taking without an instant ‘I win’ button. But, not knowing how many hit points are needed to activate a skill and how much damage it will do, it’s kind of hard to commit to it. I guess the only real option left is Spirit Siphoner. In the worst case scenario, it will give me a crappy health steal I never have to use, Darwin finally decided as he reached his hand out at the non-tangible display out of habit.

Tiqpa, I pick the Spirit Siphoner, Darwin thought happily, eagerly waiting to see what skills he would get.

Due to your Race, selecting a specialization has been locked. You have been given the specialization: Soul Fiend.

You are now a Soul Knight with the Soul Fiend subclass. You have been granted the passive skill Hunger.

Darwin’s mouth dropped. What the--? Why would you taunt me like that? You offer me a choice and then take it away as soon as I make a decision! Why? Is this what would have happened if Neo had picked the blue pill instead? He wanted to get angry, and was about to, but then he saw the benefit of the Soul Fiend subclass and decided that he was actually rather happy it had been taken.

Your skills have been upgraded!

Soul Eater has turned into Soul Devourer - Temporarily consume all soul charges to fully restore hit points. Grants user +50% all stats for (Number of Souls * 5) seconds. This skill will automatically activate upon receiving a fatal blow. May only be used once per hour.

Soul Collector - This skill now allows the user to carry (Level + 10) souls.

That’s not exactly an ‘I win button!’ but it’s probably the closest thing I’ll get to one these days. Dang, now I’m really curious about what Soul Sever would have turned into.

Please choose between one of these abilities:

With a Cherry on Top! (Passive) - Each kill yields one additional soul charge and a 1% damage bonus (fades after 300 seconds out of combat).

Ever had an ice cream sundae without the cherry on top? Nope? Then why start now?

Broken Hearts Make Smaller Bites! (Passive) - Each kill of the opposite gender heals user for 25% of max health.

It’s not always good looks that leave a heart broken in two. Sometimes it’s just a well placed blade--which is perfect because the heart is much easier to chew in small pieces.

Darwin looked at the ‘opposite gender’ part of the ‘Broken hearts make smaller bites!’ skill, then at one of the turtle wolves and frowned. How would I even tell what the gender of most monsters are? Would I have to awkwardly check? Do most monsters even have a gender? Darwin sighed. If I was a girl, that skill would be pretty overpowered for large group combat, but as a guy I feel like it’s pretty useless.

Tiqpa, I pick ‘With a Cherry on Top!’ Darwin thought, causing the skill to glow for a minute while the other turned gray and then the two went to their respective places on a large tree that wasn’t visible earlier. Unlike the first choice, the one about which specialization he wanted to pick, he was actually rather confident that he made the right choice this time. As the abilities went to their place at the very bottom of the skill tree, he noticed that below them, already glowing like the ‘With a Cherry on Top!’ skill, was the passive ‘Hunger’ that had been mentioned earlier. While he couldn’t see it himself, he could feel from the blood rushing out of his face as he read the skill’s properties. He had somehow managed to grow even paler than before.

Hunger (Passive) - Hunger causes the Soul Fiend to lose 1 soul charge for every five minutes he is out of combat. If the Soul Fiend has no soul charges to be consumed, then the Soul Fiend will begin to lose hit points at a rate of 1% every hour. Magic, items and natural health regeneration can not restore hit points lost as a direct result of Hunger. Consumption of a soul charge will restore all hit points lost from Hunger. Fatal Damage received by Hunger will not trigger the activation of Soul Devourer.

“The belly is an ungrateful wretch, it never remembers past favors, it always wants more tomorrow.” - Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

One percent per hour . . . that means, I have to kill something roughly once every four days or I’ll die, and the longer I stay out of combat, the harder my next fight will be. Darwin suddenly felt panicked. He had capped out his Soul Charges during the battle at the beach, but all fifty of those charges would only buy him four hours at most before his health started draining away from Hunger. Why did it make me take this specific specialization? What was the point of forcing this curse on me?

Kass:

As Kass stood in front of G.O.R.N studios, she couldn’t help but feel both underwhelmed and confused. The parking lot was huge. In fact, it seemed like the entire building was only a parking lot. Flanking the building on all sides were parking decks ten and twelve stories high, yet there in the middle of them was a simple, old-fashioned, two-story house with a double-car garage that looked like it had been transplanted straight out of a late 20th-century subdivision. It even had a nice wreath on a giant wooden door and a cute pathway leading up to it. That said, as she stood there dazed and staring at it, several dozen people had already gone in and out of the big door with the wreath on it. In fact, there were so many people going into the building that she started to wonder how they all were able to even fit.

Is this even the right building? She started to wonder as she walked closer to it, double checking her address to make sure she was in the right place. Yep. Looks like the right address, but how come there isn’t a giant skyscraper with G.O.R.N written all over it? Where is the big tag stating it’s the Gamer’s Official Review Network? She nervously walked towards the big door with the wreath hanging on it at the front of the suburban house. I’m going to look like an idiot and be in the wrong place, aren’t I? she was starting to complain to herself when someone else saw her lost expression and offered some help.

“Hey there! Are you lost? Can I help you?” the full-suited man with a ridiculous Looney Toons tie said as he turned to face her.

“Um, yeah. It’s just my first time and . . .” she began, but wasn’t able to even complete the sentence before he interrupted her.

“But you weren’t sure if you were at the right building? No, you’re in the right place. You can follow me in. I’ll take you to the front desk so they can get you sorted and help you out. By the way, name’s Rainer,” the dorky-looking, clean-shaven man said as he stuck out his hand.

“Kass. Um, yeah, nice to meet you,” Kass took his hand and shook it as best she could. He wasn’t handsome or any of the qualities that would normally make her nervous enough to be self-conscious when shaking hands, but there were two key details she quickly noticed that were making her wonder if her palms were going sweaty. One, it was an overly formal setting she just wasn’t used to since she had never gotten to the interview stage for jobs that required suits anywhere near the Armani level. And two, after quickly glancing around, she was becoming painfully aware of the fact she was drastically underdressed compared to every other woman who was walking in or out of the building.

“Likewise. Now, I’m guessing you don’t work here, so I can probably skip the front desk and just take you straight to the intern office. They are the ones in charge of showing around guests and big wigs, so it should be the right place anyways,” he said in a jolly, chipper manner. Kass was kind of surprised to see someone going to work with such a big grin.

“It’s where they take the big wigs to be shown around? Maybe I need to go to the area where they take people who can’t afford wigs, or just to the front desk and see where I need to be.” Kass tried to make light of the difference in formality between herself and the rest of the people. She definitely didn’t want to call unnecessary attention to herself when she was just trying to get in, set up an interview and walk away with enough cash to keep her dad happy for a year so she could keep playing video games.

“Nonsense. My girlfriend Kerrigan is one of the few paid interns, so they always stack her with stupid work. She’d love a break to show someone around. Not to mention, she was really mad earlier when I told her I was coming into work late. So, yeah, she could definitely use the break.”

Kerrigan? He’s dating Kerrigan? His name is Rainer? Crap, I’m the cause of her being angry, aren’t I? “Why was she so upset?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “She said someone had called in and spent a bit of time on the phone making fun of her name. I have no idea why she gets so sensitive about things like that though.”

“Someone called in and made fun of her name? That sounds odd. Kerrigan doesn’t seem like a bad name,” Kass wanted very much to just leave it at that and feign complete ignorance about the subject, but she couldn’t help herself. “I mean, it’s not a super silly name like Tassadar or anything.”

Rainer, unlike Kerrigan, clearly enjoyed the reference and seemed to perk up even more as if his smile could actually get bigger. “Right? You think people would zerg her to compliment her name. Totally surprised she ended up brooding over it.”

Kass almost burst out laughing. This guy is as silly as Darwin, she thought. “Well, at least her boyfriend appreciates her good fortune.”

“Absolutely! Then again, isn’t it the man’s job to appreciate the woman who doesn’t appreciate herself?”

“Eww . . . Should I tell her that you think appreciating her is like a job?”

“What? NO! Don’t do that! Don’t even kid! It took me two months to get out of the dog house the last time I messed up!” He panicked visibly, his face turning so white you could slap a Hellmann’s label over it and pass it off as mayonnaise.

“Really? That bad? Did you kill her cat by accident?” Kass felt relieved as she walked with him into the building. She had gone from nervous to chuckling as soon as she saw him go stiff and white like a giant chalk stick.

“What, no. How would I even do that? Leave it in the oven? Lock it in the freezer? Set it on fire? Toss it in the bath along with a toaster, accidentally, of course?” he kept listing off suggestions as the two went through the big, wooden front door.

Kass awkwardly came to a halt. On the outside, the building had looked exactly like it was from a 1990s subdivision, but on the inside it was entirely different. It wasn’t two stories tall. The whole thing, from where the double car garage should have been on one side to where the master bedroom might have been on the other, was all melded into one giant, empty white room except for a single large white circular desk with two secretaries in the middle. There were also three very large sets of see-through elevators. Each was set on a wall other than the one with the entrance door. The whole thing felt like it was out of a futuristic sci-fi movie and was enough to leave Kass momentarily stunned.

“Kass, relax. I didn’t kill her cat. She doesn’t even own one,” Rainer said, turning around to face Kass, who had gone from a brisk walking pace to a dead crawl as soon as the surroundings shocked her. “All I did was forget a birthday.”

“Oh. Isn’t that a bit cliché?” Kass pulled her head back to earth and quickly walked to catch back up to Rainer. “I always thought the only place men forgot a girl’s birthday was on TV--where that trope belongs. Although, if I had a boyfriend who forgot mine, he’d have to do something big to get out of the dog house after only two months.”

“I didn’t forget her birthday though.”

“I thought you just said you did?”

“I said I forgot a birthday, but it wasn’t hers. It was mine. I forgot all about it and spent the entire night working in the office. I even passed out at my desk. The real kicker to the whole thing though was that the text message I sent her saying that I was going to stay late working didn’t go through. So, when I came home the next day to find out that she had gone the whole nine yards, made me a nice dinner, baked a cake, picked out some . . .” Rainer’s eyes glazed over for a moment before he shook his head clear of inappropriate thoughts. “Yeah, she wasn’t happy. Didn’t forgive me until I pulled off something big for Valentine’s Day.”

“Ouch, but you work in the same place. She should have understood how demanding your boss is,” Kass remarked.

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ll put up with the dog house so long as I get to keep my Kerrigan,” Rainer said as they passed by the front desk on their way to the back elevator.

“So, what’s the deal with this place?” Kass wondered aloud as she followed Rainer across the white marble floor. “Why does it look like a normal house on the outside, and it’s just a bunch of elevators, all going down, I guess, on the inside?”

“Ah! That’s a fun little story. You see, this wasn’t actually an office building at the start.” Rainer leaned forward and pushed the elevator call button as he told the story. “The owner, a huge Trekkie, made his fortune without ever leaving his man cave. Since he never left the comfort of his home to spend his allowance, he was able to save all of his money and make a killing on the stock market when he hit 18. By the time he graduated college, he had more money than he knew what to do with, and he decided to start a company. So he started one in his mom’s basement. Then, since his entire life had been spent playing games in his mother’s basement, and being told jokes about how serious gamers are just people who live in their mom’s basement, he decided to just keep expanding his mother’s basement. When he got around to setting up this office, he gave his mother the deed and made the whole thing underground so it could still be called ‘his mom’s basement.’”

“So I’m not really entering an office building. I’m just going downstairs into some dude’s mom’s basement?” Kass clarified as she got into the elevator.

“Yes, but I’m going to have to stop saying mother’s basement. I’m starting to feel like a broken track record,” Rainer chuckled.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m going to have to stop . . . You heard me the first time, didn’t you?”

“Yep,” Kass smiled. It was easier to pull jokes on Rainer than it was to mess with Darwin. He always twisted her words around until the joke was on her.

“Ah, this is us,” Rainer said, holding the door as Kass stepped out of the elevator and into a weird and still overly-white hallway.

“This guy sure has a very specific theme,” she noted.

“Yeah, for some reason every science fiction movie seemed to associate the future with big empty white spaces, so the boss just ran with it.” Rainer’s pace picked up a bit as they approached a room on their left almost immediately after they had gotten out of the elevator. He swiped his card, and the door opened to reveal a bunch of young, college-age people sitting around glass circular tables with their laptops out.

“Hey, Kerrigan! How are you, sweetie?” he shouted loudly to a girl all the way across the room that was stuffing her face with a piece of pepperoni pizza. “I missed you so much! Now, tell me, when does this--how did you describe her--awful, rude, bitchy, loud-mouthed, sassy, sarcastic, spoiled, greedy, little brat show up for the interview about the battle?”

Kass wanted to facepalm. Is that how I came off? All I did was tease Kerrigan about her name. Kass shook her head. The whole time Rainer was repeating Kerrigan’s words, Kass could see Kerrigan gesticulate in a ridiculous fashion, trying to warn him that the person in question was right behind him.

“Huh? Her?” Rainer looked back at Kass for a moment, and then, in an epic failure of communication, totally misunderstood Kerrigan’s hand signals. “Yeah, sorry I forgot to introduce her, she’s Kass. It’s her first time visiting the G.O.R.N compound and she had no idea where to go, so I brought her here. Figured you could have one of the noobs show her around while we wait for the Hydra lady.”

Kerrigan, who had, in a spectacular fashion, managed to swallow the giant bite of pizza she had taken without really chewing, did what Kass had only wanted to do: facepalmed. “Rainer, this is why we always fail at couples charades! That girl next to you is the one you’re going to interview.” She stood up as she fussed at him, brushing off her dress. “Sorry, Kass, I didn’t mean to make such a bad impression. Umm, this guy here is the one in charge of managing the content we put on our shows.”

“No problem. I just have one question though.” Kass looked at the two of them.

“That’s great, how can I be of help? Are you going to need some water for the interview?” Kerrigan offered, doing her best to pretend like she was a hundred percent professional.

“Do I have to construct any additional pylons?” she asked, causing Kerrigan’s face to flush red with anger.

Kerrigan looked like she was about to say something to Kass, then just sighed and looked at her boyfriend. “Rainer, conference room three is open and already set up for you. If you want to do lunch after the interview, I’ll have an hour free to catch a coffee with you while you eat.”

“Sounds great, dear,” Rainer responded then turned to Kass and said, “and, Kass, I think we both know that for humans it’s a supply depot, not a pylon. This way!”

“Hey! Not you too!” Kerrigan called out after them as they left through the door they came in, and Rainer led Kass to a small empty conference room with white boards for walls.

“Yeah, so, sorry about all the insults. You were made out to be some evil demon.” As Rainer sat down at one side of the weird, oval-shaped table, Kass just sat down at the other side.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I hang around demons all the time,” Kass remarked candidly, but planning to never let him know exactly how honest she was being.

“You do?” He queried, picking up a pen and notebook that Kass hadn’t noticed on the table at the spot he had picked to sit down.

“Yeah, it’s like a whole army of them sometimes,” she kept the private joke going.

“Well, gamers can be pretty savage, so I understand the feeling. Anyways, let’s start off with a few basic questions. For one, do you have a full clip of your experience with the fight? Did you save it all, or have you deleted some of it?”

“No, it’s all saved.”

“Are there any parts you aren’t willing to share with us for airing purposes?”

Kass thought for a minute, How do I say, ‘Parts that would give away Darwin’s secret?’ without actually hinting he even has a secret? “Ah! Parts with dialogue or sections where commands are being issued out.”

Rainer lifted his pen for a moment. He had begun jotting notes down as soon as Kass had opened her mouth. “Well, that’s okay. We understand the desire for privacy with gamers, but that brings us to another important question: Are you the one in charge of the army? Was it lead by you? Did you come up with the winning battle strategy?”

“Well, actually, I’m kind of in charge, and I’m kind of not.” Kass found the question difficult to answer. She had the title of being co-leader, the Lady of the guild, but she hadn’t actually done more than go with Darwin to get the Creation Stone. A fact that, as much as she hated to admit it, didn’t really put her in charge. She had only played off Darwin’s nature to get the title ‘Lady’ to match his title ‘Lord,’ and as soon as she had gotten it, everyone started calling Darwin, ‘The Great Lord Darwin.’

“How does that work?” he asked, staring at her intently and making her feel guilty about the whole situation even more than she had when she first decided to do the interview.

“Well, I’m not the founding leader, but I am technically second in command,” she stumbled across her words.

“I see, and what do you mean exactly by ‘technically’?”

“Hmmm,” Kass was starting to feel really frustrated with the persistence of these detail-oriented questions. With the way Rainer was calmly and methodically digging a little deeper into each thing she said, Kass was beginning to feel like he was a shrink and that she should be lying down on a couch instead. “I guess the best way to put it is that the main leader, the guy you probably saw from some of the other clips in the bathrobe, always seems to put whomever the experts are on a subject in charge. He is a counsel-before-pride kind of leader,” she explained, remembering how everything from getting the Creation Stone to joining the beach battle had been with or at the advice of others.

“I see, and are those experts on a subject part of the guild too?”

“Sometimes,” she answered. If it wasn’t for Stephanie and his sister Eve, she could have just answered ‘yes.’

“Does your group have a title?”

“Oh, yeah! We’re the StormGuard Alliance!” she said proudly. It was weird, but even though she hadn’t been a member for long, the idea of being a part of it did make her pretty proud.

“And does the leader, the guy in the bathrobe, have a name?”

“Yeah, he does, but I’d rather not say. I figure if he wanted the world to know more about him, he would have called you himself,” she dodged answering the question as politely as she could, but as soon as she did, Rainer leaned back in his chair and began writing something quietly, leaving Kass in silence.

“I understand,” he answered after a minute as he lifted his pen again. “Now, a few more simple questions: Can you tell us about the Hydra? Where did you get the Hydra, now dubbed the Dark Hydra, that you rode in on?”

“We acquired it in one of the tunnels we took to get to the harbor faster.”

“Can you tell us how you were able to acquire it?”

“I’m afraid it was the leader who acquired it. He just let me ride it during the battle.”

“I see . . .” he said, aggravating Kass with his therapist voice once again.

“You said earlier that you want to cut all the clips from the fight that involved dialogue or commands. Can we at least get you to walk through the strategy your team used during the live interview? For instance, how, why and what spells you used?”

“Uhh . . .” Kass racked her brain to see if this was a safe zone for information that she could share. “Alright, that seems fair.”

“Good, well, send over the clips and--” Rainer stopped talking when he saw Kass pull out a data storage device from her pocket.

“I’ve got them right here, and I’ve already clipped the dialogue sections. I can email them as well,” Kass said, putting the data device on the table.

“Oh, great.” Rainer stood up and put down the notebook, but not before pulling a fat stack of white papers out of it. “In that case, I’ll just wait on the email, but I can say for certain we definitely want to have an on-air interview with you. I’m going to give you this contract, and if you like everything you see here, just email that file over to us with a signed version of the contract. I’m really looking forward to seeing you in the future and watching your interview.” Rainer had managed to become even more robotic as he talked and handed her the paperwork.

Kass took the contract, looking over it for a minute. How much time away from playing my game is it going to take to read all of this? she griped to herself as she looked back up at Rainer.

“Now, I need to go cool off the girl--she seems mad for some reason--and catch a lunch with her. Do you remember the way out?” he asked as the two of them walked towards the door.

“Yeah, I do. Thanks a lot for showing me around, and I’ll try to forget all the colorful remarks that were made earlier when I do the interview on air.”

Rainer laughed and then clasped his hands together in a pleading motion, “Please do!” he said in an over-exaggerated fashion.

“Alright, see you ‘round,” he said as they started to split directions, and he began walking back towards the interns’ area while she turned to walk to the elevator.

“You too, and one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Kerrigan is a really amazing girl. Be nicer to her next time, will you?”

“No problem. It’s what us spoiled brats are good at.” She flashed her teeth in the most mischievous manner possible and started back towards the elevator with her new contract.

So much to read, so little boat time left to do it, she grumbled. It’s too bad the StormGuard Alliance doesn’t have an NPC lawyer to read this out for me.

Qasin:

Qasin somehow found it comforting to swab the deck. The simple back and forth motion of the yarn mop across the floor served to keep his hands busy and away from his sword while the disappearing stains manifested in him an odd sense of pride and accomplishment he wasn’t exactly expecting when he first began. He had set out to do something, and it bore results. Even though it was a small, insignificant task compared to the one he had accomplished defending the Human Race and their allies on the beach, it was still a task that bettered the world. But, neither of those pleasant feelings were what made the simple cleaning chore so comforting.

Rather than either of them, it was the nostalgia. Before he was a King, he had been a soldier, and as any soldier who ever enlisted in an army can tell you, if they weren’t performing their task, training, standing guard or waiting around for orders, they were cleaning. They were polishing their swords, organizing the contents of their chests, or cleaning their floors. They were making their beds four times because the outcome had to be ‘just right’ for their commanding officer’s approval. Add this to the fact that the first few tasks for a run-of-the-mill sword-and-board infantry pawn only took two to three hours a day at most, and that meant that Qasin had spent five to six hours of every day cleaning. That’s why it was so comforting to return to an old task he had grown so familiar with for the first time in . . . How long has it been?

Qasin looked up as he paused in thought, puzzled by a realization that sat on the tip of his tongue but never wiggled free, until he finally understood what he was looking at.

“Eve, can your magic see what is going on in that town?” he asked his companion who was holding the wheel.

“Yes,” she answered, “I can.”

“And?” he asked as he put the mop back in the bucket.

“And?” she sighed in a manner that seemed entirely out of character for her. “It’s exactly what you see: a battle.”

“Eve, don’t dodge the question. You knew what I meant,” Qasin’s blood began to rise. It was just the type of skirting about the issue the councilmen had done in the castle around that forsaken council table.

“It’s a battle, dear Qasin. A group of mischievous pirates are assailing a village town with their stench and charm,” Eve finally said after a moment of thought. “The villagers who are actually wearing armor seem to be holding them off for the moment. They have a good defensive formation, but it’s not likely to stay that way for long.”

“Then let’s hope they last until we arrive,” Qasin said, putting his hand on his sword. It’s itching again.

“Qasin, we’re not going to arrive,” Eve said coldly. “We’re hot on Darwin’s trail. At this rate we’ll catch them before they reach shore.”

“Your brother isn’t facing death; those people are. Are you going to turn your back on them so easily? Is an hour’s worth of chasing Darwin worth the lives of the people in that town?” Qasin’s grip on his blade grew stronger. She isn’t them; she isn’t the council, he had to tell himself.

“No, it’s just, Qasin, this is about more than a village. This is about an entire world. You’re a King. You should know by now that wars require you to make the hard call and give up a few soldiers to save a thousand.”

“I was a poor King as you were quick to point out. There are simply lessons I am too foolish to ever learn.”

“Qasin, this is my boat if you haven’t forgotten, and I am not risking everything. I didn’t come this far to give up here. I am not changing the course.”

Qasin had heard enough. His hand was itching and his patience was gone. There was a problem on the shore, and everything down to his bones told him he couldn’t let those people die. He walked to the edge of the boat where the railing was. “I signed up to help you, not to be your pawn. You turn the boat towards those people, or I will swim to shore on my own.”

He watched Eve stare at him sternly, then turned to the rail. We don’t have time for this, he thought, about to jump off the boat, when she stopped him with a shout. “Fine! I’ll turn the boat, but we better still catch Darwin. Don’t make me regret this more than I already do,” Eve bellowed out angrily.

“Saving lives is not something you can regret easily,” Qasin said, parting from the ship’s side and walking up to the wheel where Eve was steering.

“You may be right, but I’m worried that the number of lives we save today will be incomparable to the number of lives that may die tomorrow as a result of this. Either way, we were set to arrive at Darwin’s port before he did with just wind alone earlier. If we’re going to make this detour and still be on schedule, we’re going to need to speed things up,” she said, turning around to face the back of the boat. Eve calmly raised one hand to the side of her head as a gust of wind began to creep out of nowhere, pulling ever so slightly at the ends of her black dress as it pressed against her. The gusts behind the sails became stronger and stronger with each passing moment until the boat had gone from a comfortable cruising speed to one where it tore through the water like a hot knife through butter.

Qasin, momentarily mystified by the sudden effects of a magic he had not seen, caught on to what she was doing and quickly grabbed the wheel to steer the ship towards the town. What would have been a ten or fifteen minute venture was shortened to mere moments. Unfortunately, as Qasin quickly saw, there was nothing that would stop the ship from simply colliding into the docks and tearing them in half.

“BRACE!” he yelled at Eve, whose focus was on the spell and not the impending crisis.

Eve didn’t move though: whatever the spell was, it took all of her attention. Qasin didn’t bother warning her a second time. As the ship got closer and closer to ramming the dock, he simply tossed her over his shoulder and, using a fireman’s carry, rushed to the edge of the boat where he proceeded to jump into the water.

As Qasin broke through the water’s surface in an awkward, feet-first landing, he felt Eve’s body slip off his back, buoyed by the water pressure. He turned around, opening his eyes to see where she was despite knowing how much the water would sting them and then swam up to grab her again. Luckily for him though, by the time he reached her, she was already aware of what was going on and had started treading water towards the shoreline, which was now covered with debris from the splintered boat and dock.

“Are you okay?” he asked her as he slung her over the wooden dock remains.

“Yeah, just go save your village, and tell them they owe me a boat,” Eve said as she coughed up a little water.

“Right,” he agreed, not waiting to see if she had anything else to say as he dove underwater and began his swim to shore. He made sure to stay as deep in the water as possible to avoid the floating obstacle course above him until he finally reached where the sand and air converged.

He broke into a sprint the second his feet hit dry land and ran as hard as he could towards the fight. He couldn’t see what was going on, but he could make out enough details to know who were the good guys and who were the ones that needed killing. The peasants were dressed like they were trying out to be potatoes in a court play, and the guards were in three tight tower shield formations moving independently to block the invaders. They wore a uniform he didn’t recognize, but he knew the garb of a guard like the back of his hand. After years of having to deal with men of that ilk escorting him even to the lavatory, their style of uniform was more familiar than any. The pirates, on the other hand, with much smaller, plank-like bucklers, were charging forward in clustered groups and ramming into the defenders’ formations as they tried to propel their blades over the shield wall. They were unsuccessful, however, as their attempts were constantly being parried by free blades.

Eve was right: they won’t last forever, Qasin thought as he charged headlong into the conflict. The defenders of the town had already lost five men, and, with a few more men down, they would lose their buffer zone and get surrounded. The pirates simply had more men and were attacking in waves designed to wear the guards out, get their shots in and drain their numbers a little each time as they rotated into fresh, fully-manned groups. Just as much as the Captain clearly knew what he was doing, so did the pirates, and they would have undoubtedly won the skirmish with few to no losses.

Qasin came up behind the group furthest back that was readying for another slam and slashed his blade as hard and quickly as he could into their backs. Four down, he smiled as his blade moved from one enemy to the next. The crash, his running up behind them--they hadn’t noticed any of it over the constant clanging of metal upon metal, and their focus was still entirely on the battle before them. Qasin had open hunting season on his foes, and he planned to kill his prey before they noticed he was taking aim.

As he finished cutting through the back wave, with only a few noticing him in time to even try to stop his blade, the next group up spotted him. They pivoted from facing their initial line of foes to facing him, and charged with their defenses up as if he represented an entire wall of wood and metal. There aren’t openings. The formation is beautiful, Qasin admired as they grew closer to his position. It’s too bad that their awareness of their surroundings is far too lacking, he laughed to himself, noticing that the closer the pirates came to him, the closer the freed up group of guards came to slamming into the pirates from behind.

He almost wanted to just back up and watch the massacre, and it probably would have been more than just a thought, if it weren’t for his urges: the same urges that made his hand itch for his sword during idle conversation and made him smile as his favorite piece of steel rended flesh like a butcher cutting meat on a busy day. Those same urges were what now compelled him to unnecessarily rush into the mass of potential victims just to kill as many as he could before the rear attack from the guards could assist him.

However, just as he was about to hit the line and slay more of the pirates, his blade eagerly hungering for the action, the pirates started dropping their armaments and clenching their chests. Almost all at once they fell to their knees, panting and screaming. Wounds started opening up all across the bodies of the assailing sea bandits and blood started to funnel out of the fresh gashes and pool above Eve’s victims in a single, giant, floating red blob that starting whirling and flattening out like a disc as it approached the shore line. There, it settled upon Qasin’s charge, Eve, where the spinning disc became a sphere and enveloped her completely before growing smaller until only Eve was visible again.

Qasin, along with every guard and villager that was in the fight, stared at Eve.

“There. Are you happy now?” she said, dusting off her once-again pristine black dress. The only bit of red still visible from the vampiric death spell she had cast was the crimson shine in her eyes as she flashed Qasin her usual sly smile. “Shall we continue our hunt, dear?”

Chapter 3:  Not a Cougar

Darwin:

After Alex excused himself from the training session with Darwin, Darwin left to the main cabin to meet up with Stephanie, who helped him practice his sword technique further. He would have probably spent the entire time working on his technique, anything to distract himself from the Hunger, if it weren’t for the fact that, after a few hours, they were interrupted by a loud shouting coming from outside the door.

“Darwin, I know you’re, um . . . busy, but you may want to come outside and check this out,” Daniel said from behind the door before he even started knocking.

“Alright, be out in a minute,” he replied then turned back to Stephanie. “Sorry, I’m going to go check it out. He doesn’t seem like the type to make a big deal out of nothing.”

“Whatever. Like, see you when you get back,” Stephanie said with an exaggerated frown.

“Don’t be like that. You’re welcome to join. Is there some way for you to not turn everyone else into stone?” Darwin wondered out loud, realizing that dating a Gorgon was going to be a lot more difficult than he originally anticipated. But how did she talk to Alex? he started to think before she interrupted him.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” she said as she motioned to shoo him off and go see what Daniel was on about.

Darwin gave her one last long look then bolted out the door so as to not miss whatever it was that Daniel was so excited about. Before he could ask though, he saw it. It was the castle city they had set course for; and, as his eyes took hold of the city, what little breath he still had in him left instantly. His eyes popped wide and his mouth hung open like he was trying to catch every snowflake in a blizzard. “That’s magnificent,” he mouthed quietly as he gazed at the spectacle on the horizon. Darwin wasn’t one to often prefer Asian designs for castles and towns--he had spent years of playing fantasy games centered in the European dark ages and all--but this one was spectacular, beautiful.

There were walls on all sides except an opening along one which was only big enough for ten or twelve ships to pass through at any given time. The first fifteen to twenty feet of wall rising above the ground was comprised of nothing but large dark gray stones of all shapes and sizes stacked on each other, lacking even the smallest hint of mortar. Then, on top of the stacked stones were white walls with black, red and gold inlay etching on and around every foundation, corner and window. The walls were capped with little, sloping, terracotta tile roofs. While it was hard to see anything beyond the tiles, the main castle was still visible. It was almost identical to the walls in principle and design except that it was at least five to six stories taller and had red as its primary color instead of white.

“Right? I told you that you were going to want to see this. Thought you might want a view of it before we got too close,” Daniel said.

“Before we got too close? You’re not worried the town is going to turn out like a Monet girl, are you?” Darwin asked, his eyes still glued to the castle city’s walls.

“A Monet girl? Like the painting?” Daniel asked, not sure of the lingo at first. Darwin had only used the term because he had heard it a lot at the office, but felt embarrassed a bit when Daniel didn’t know it at all. “You mean the ones that are pretty from a distance but look uglier the closer you get to them? No. Nothing like that. It’s just looking at the size of it makes me think you won’t be able to get a good view of its scope up close. Won’t be as awesome.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that. It’s massive,” Darwin agreed. He couldn’t remember if he had ever described a city like that before.

As the boat kept growing closer to the port, the actual inside of the city became visible. Whereas the city walls and castle part of it were ornate and beautiful--even the window frames were designed to look like dragons--the actual city that came into view was much less so. The port was crammed with houses three or four stories high, just shorter than the height of the wall, stacked on each other like Lego bricks from end to end. They had a design that felt something like fishing town shacks, but they had a striking uniformity too. All in all, the port had the appearance of another wall blocking his view of the town behind it.

“It’s haphazard because they are player made,” Daniel noted. “The main city is traditional with its layout. The docks are player owned and all of those houses were bought en masse by people rushing to get space in the city.”

“People buy houses in the city?” Darwin asked, slightly confused as to why someone would want to own one of the Lego dock shacks.

“Yeah. They not only buy them, but those which are for sale are also incredibly expensive to most of us players since we are all just now reaching the mainland.”

“Why?” Darwin found himself honestly puzzled by it. He remembered that in most MMOs he had purchased houses, but it was more because they looked awesome and made him feel special, not to actually hold tangible property. “The inventory is infinite, and you’d sleep outside of the game, no? What’s the point of a house in a city, especially an ugly house like all those?”

“That’s gonna vary based on who you are asking,” Daniel started to explain, “but likely it’s because the squares are too crowded for people to gather effectively, so Guild Leaders will buy up land to have a meeting point. You can’t own shops to sell to other players unless you have a tangible location, and Guilds that own property in a city don’t have to pay the city’s merchant tax when selling to citizens. For you though, I suppose you’ll get a place just so your citizens have somewhere to sleep, unless you expect them to sleep on the boat?”

“This boat has to be a heck of a lot better than those shacks, but I get your point. I’ll have to ask Alex about logistics and scouting the area out.” Darwin looked at the woods to the side of the town thoughtfully. “It’s not ideal, but maybe we can take over a dungeon again?”

“Why are you looking for Alex to do your scouting?” At soft voice came from behind him. With how well the owner had snuck up on the pair of them, Darwin might have thought it was Alex himself had it not been clearly a woman’s voice.

“Oh, just that . . . that is his job. He’s kind of logistics and scouting?” Darwin was confused by the question. Why send a Scout to scout?

“Hate to say it, Boss, but he’s not really that anymore, is he?” Daniel pointed out as Valerie, the woman behind the voice, stepped closer to the rail to properly join the conversation. “You’re talking to me instead of him about this information likely because he’s really busy making sure everyone is tended to and everything is taken care of for the unloading process, right?”

“No argument. He is busy doing that stuff, but I’m sure he also knows who to send to scout for the things we’ll need,” Darwin thought aloud, enjoying Daniel’s abilities as a sounding board.

“Or, if you don’t mind, Great Lord Darwin, I could scout for you?” Valerie offered before Daniel could give his response. “A White-Wing could scout faster than anyone on foot, thanks to the wings and all, and we could report back to someone on the boat as soon as we find a good location to set up camp.”

Darwin didn’t even get time to think of a better alternative to the idea when his heart suddenly started beating twice as hard, and everything in his vision was tainted red for a second. Hunger, he thought, remembering the surprise it had given him the first time he felt it. That’s another tick on the life bar down. The most unsettling part of Hunger wasn’t the loud heartbeat, the momentary adrenaline, or the loss of a percent of health bar. It was the urge that came with it. His eyes, even if for just a minute, switched from regarding people like Daniel and Valerie as friends to regarding them in the same way a cat’s eyes must see a mouse: as food.

“Boss?” Daniel asked. The change must have been visible. “You okay?”

Darwin was about to make up an excuse when he saw Valerie’s face staring at Daniel angrily. Oh! That’s right! She still thinks I’m an NPC that has to be regarded with proper titles, he laughed to himself. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He decided it was best not to lie, but he wasn't exactly going to tell the whole truth either. “And that sounds great, actually. Just get the details of what we’ll need from Alex before you head out.”

“Great! We’ll complete the job in no time at all, Great Lord Darwin,” Valerie said before darting off.

“Not going to go with her?”

“I will, but knowing her, the first thing she’s going to do is go looking for Mclean, and she’s in the opposite direction of the one Val just took off in,” Daniel said with a wry smile. “I’m just going to wait here until she figures it out.”

“You could have told her?”

“What would be the fun in that? This is a game, after all.”

“That’s true. It is just a game,” Darwin laughed, imagining poor Valerie scurrying around looking for someone on the wrong side of the boat while in a rush.

“You’re not going to tell her that you’re not an NPC either, are you? Let her keep calling you ‘Great Lord Darwin?’” Daniel asked, laughing with Darwin.

“No, no, actually I didn’t plan on it.”

“Well, in that case, I’d say birds of a feather and all . . .” Daniel paused to gesture to his wings, “but I feel like I’ve already used that cliche once. Anyways, it was nice talking with you, Boss, but I have a strange feeling the girl you left in the cabin will be rather grumpy if you leave her there by herself for too long.”

“Birds of a feather, indeed. See you, Daniel,” he chuckled as Daniel skipped off in Mclean’s direction.

I should probably get ready, he thought as he went back into the cabin with Stephanie. No matter how much he wanted to stick to just staying in the cabin all day with her and joking around, he wanted to go out and explore the city even more.

“Why the face?” Stephanie asked as he walked in the door. “Was it bad news?”

“No, just the opposite. It was just a view of the city. It looks amazing.”

“Then why the face?”

“Well, just, I really want to explore it with you, but I don’t think that’s entirely possible given your condition.”

“Well, there is always the next city. Anyways, I couldn’t go with you if I wanted to. I need to go check some things out later, using my super-sneaky stealth arts. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. Stealth,” Stephanie giggled as she jokingly hid under the blanket then moved around the room making swift, stealthy noises.

“You have things to check up on? How do you even get around? Do you wrap your whole head like a ninja?” he asked as she lowered the blanket.

“A lady must have a few secrets,” she giggled again and lifted the blanket up once more to say ‘whoosh’ and fell onto the bed. “But, don’t worry about me. Go have some fun out on the town.”

“Sure, sure, will do,” he said, grabbing his swords and spoons as he left the cabin. Since everyone was likely doing a mission or busy, he figured he might as well get something he hadn’t had in the last few days--a bit of alone time. It’s not that he minded the company, but he was definitely more used to being alone. Thirty years of gaming in solitude had made it into a bit of a need; and, since the trek started, from one dungeon all the way to this town, he hadn’t gotten more than a few moments of peace and quiet.

That said, even while the boat floated into its spot on the dock, he couldn’t help but look around for Kass. Doesn’t she always show up whenever I’m about to go somewhere? I wonder what she could be doing for so long that stops her from gaming? His biggest worry was that she had somehow, even as an adult, managed to get grounded from video games. He had already experienced that type of shock before when, just before facing an incredibly tough raid on Emerald Gardens, his star tank was grounded and prevented from playing video games for a week. He didn’t know the whole story of why the guy was punished, but it apparently involved superglue, syran wrap, and a lot of string.

Walking down the wooden plank to the dock below, he found his eyes wandering from person to person with confusion. Previously, everything had felt very much like a fantasy adventure from the European dark ages. With Minotaurs, Vampires, Satyrs and so forth, it stayed incredibly close to the Western mythos. In this place, however, only the odd, hairy, part-man/part-wolf could be mistaken for a creation of Western culture. As for the rest of the races, they all looked and felt as if they were out of an Eastern mythology book or an Asian cartoon. On every side, there were people with varying degrees of animal characteristics. Some barely had anything but a tuft of fur instead of hair while others were the full-on humanoid version of their animal counterparts. Every animal he could think of was represented. There was even bulgy-eyed Frog-Men and crocodile-looking Reptilians walking around.

By the time he got to the main street he had absolutely lost sense of where he was. The feel of merchants and vendors crowding the streets of the bazaar and shouting over each other at every passerby proved to be both noisy and interesting enough to make him forget which way he had even come from.

“You’re a swordsman, aren’t you?” a cat-like woman approached him from his side. Everything about the girl was very much human, except she had spotted ears and golden eyes that were undeniably those of a cat.

“I suppose? Though lately it’s been just me and these spoons,” he joked to himself, aware that she wouldn’t understand the context.

“I knew it!” the strange, red-kimono-wearing, five-foot-tall Feline shouted while throwing both hands in the air.

“You knew it?” Darwin looked at her puzzled.

“Of course I knew it! How could I not know it? I mean, the kimono--” the girl started off.

“The bathrobe . . .” Darwin tried to interrupt with a correction, but the woman kept talking.

“The two swords, the look in your eyes, and the bump!” She waved her hands around excitedly with each description as if she were talking more with her fingers than she was with her mouth.

“The bump?” Darwin said with a scrunched-up forehead. He felt even more lost now than he did before trying to find his way around the bazaar.

“You haven’t even noticed? That’s astounding man, astounding!”

“I haven’t noticed what?”

“I’ve tried to bump into you at least ten times. At first it was an accident. You were looking one way, and I was looking another, but, by the time I noticed you, it was almost BAM! But you shifted your step so quickly without even looking at me. Like I wasn’t there to you, but you dodged? It raised my interest, so I tried again, of course, but no go twice!”

“You tried to bump into me because you failed the first time?”

“Why not? You’re big. I’m small. No harm, right? But fail again did I! You’ve been staring at this shiny object and that shiny object and dodging me left and right. I’ve tried ten times, and you didn’t even notice me, but dodged each time? Madness! No one without training would have those instincts! I knew you must be a swordsman!” The Feline got more and more excited.

“Because you didn’t bump into me?”

“Well, I was right, wasn’t I? Anyways, this is great! Great news! Wait until I tell Kitchens!”

“Tell who? Wait, why is this go--” Darwin couldn’t get more than a few words out before he was interrupted again.

“Tell Kitchens! We’ve been searching for a swordsman all day. You are good, right? You have to be good! Dodged me you did, so excellent you must be!”

“Yoda, what are you talking about?” Darwin was beginning to lose his cool with the ADD rambling cat girl.

“The tournament, old man! The tournament! Did you just step off the boat?”

“Yes?”

“Oh. Well, in that case, come on. We have to go get Kitchens. I’ll explain on the way,” the short Feline girl said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him quickly through the crowd. Darwin didn’t even have time to think about why or how he should be protesting as she expertly pulled him between one group of people after another, moving at a speed that almost felt like a run.

Is she treating this as an obstacle course? he thought as he had to duck his head for the fifth time to avoid someone’s arms while sneaking between people. “You said you would explain, Miss Kitty,” he managed to yell at her from behind.

“Oh, yeah! There is a tournament, but you need three people to enter today’s. Sword’s the game; cash is the name . . . or is that backwards? Anyways, we need a third swordsman, but you don’t have to be good,” she yelled back without even turning her head as she yanked to the left to dodge a giant panda man chewing bamboo in the middle of the street. “Kitchens is a pro. He’ll cover your slack. Good good he is!”

“And who are you? Are you good good?”

“Great great. I’m Minx the Lynx, but I’m a dagger deep damsel and he’s the sword-wielding superhero, but even boards can enter the competition. It’s just swordsmen are the best, yes?” she said, letting go of his wrist to jump over a group of three people who had managed to form a wall on the sidewalk in front of him. Darwin, with little notice, attempted the same, but the breeze he felt as he landed on the other side clearly told him his bonus Flap Protection +10 was simply not sufficient in all scenarios to save onlookers. The second he landed, his wrist was grabbed, and he found himself being pulled once more by the rapidly dashing lynx in front of him.

“There there! He’s at the registration! I knew it!” she let go of his hand and threw both her fists in the air the same way she had when she found out he was a swordsman. “Right right, we made it! KITCHENS!” she yelled over everyone. “KITCHENS! I got one! I got one!”

As she yelled, a man with lynx ears like hers standing at a booth thirty feet in front of them turned around. While she was dressed in a solid, dark-red kimono that only made it to just above her knees, clearly trying to represent the Asian culture that matched the motif of the entire town, he was dressed on the entire opposite side of the spectrum, wearing a pair of full-length khakis and a tank top.

As he looked at them approaching, he noted that she was holding his wrist and dragging him and sighed. “Minxy, that’s the fourth one. Did you get him to actually agree before you brought him?”

“He said he was a swordsman! This one is! I know. I can’t hit him! He’s um . . . he’s water! Like you said, right? Water water, be shapeless. Water water, move with the flow and don’t struggle against it. That’s how he moves. Watch!” she let go of his hand, pulled out a dagger with her right hand and swung it at Darwin’s head while simultaneously spinning her left leg to follow it up like a roundhouse kick if the dagger missed. Darwin didn’t have time to stop himself, seeing the blade coming at him and the foot following it, he gave up the idea of dodging and moved in instantly, striking her as hard as he could in the stomach and knocking her several feet backwards and onto the ground.

“Sorry,” he apologized. She had started it, but apologizing still felt like the right thing to do as he saw the poor child-like girl on the ground coughing from having the wind knocked out of her.

“See, he’s a fighter. This one’s a fighter,” she said as she spit up a little blood and climbed back onto her feet.

“That’s . . . fire, not water.” Kitchens tilted his head and then turned to the girl on the ground. “But I didn’t ask if he could fight; I asked if he agreed.”

“Um . . . He will! You will, right, mister? Right right, mister?”

Kitchens turned back to face Darwin. “Look, you don’t have to agree, but we only have around twenty minutes left to register. They only accept a team of three, and you’d be doing us both a huge favor if you signed up.”

“Please, mister,” Minx said with obviously-fake puppy dog eyes while covering her mouth with two fists in a clear ploy to try and look cute.

“Is she always like that?” Darwin asked, looking over at Kitchens.

“Minxy? Yeah. Something like that,” he laughed.

“Well . . .”

“Pleeeease . . .” she maintained her pose.

“Fine, fine, but no more swinging daggers at me,” Darwin finally broke down and agreed. Part of it was because of how pitiful she looked begging, but the rest of it was simply because it sounded fun. It just made sense that facing off against the toughest swordsmen in the city was definitely more interesting than shopping around and seeing the sights, and it wasn’t like he was going to make it back to the boat to grab two of Alex’s men in time to register with faction members only.

“Marvelous. Let’s give them your John Hancock and make it official then,” Kitchens said as he started walking towards the line.

You have been invited to Kitchens’ Party. Would you like to Accept or Reject?

Yes. Accept.

“It’s kind of odd, don’t you think?” Minx asked, pushing in between the two of them as they sat in line. “We’re in an advanced VRMMO with the best technology, but the way they enter us in a tournament is through simple pen and paper.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that is a bit odd,” Darwin agreed. “But I think it’s more for realism. It wouldn’t be too immersive if everything was done through Tiqpa command prompts, now would it?”

“No, nope nope,” she put a finger over her lips as she thought for a moment, “It wouldn’t.”

“Indeed,” Kitchens also agreed.

When they got to the end of the line, they put their names down on the paper and walked over to the waiting area with the rest of the teams. The waiting area was nothing more than a giant, empty room with a garden and stone benches circling stone tables and gazebo-style covers. The three of them picked the first empty one they could find and sat down, causing another group of contestants--weird, Rhino humanoids--that looked like it was trying to take the same table scoff and walk away. As they waited, a young Chinese girl in a white robe came by and poured the three of them some tea.

While they sat there sipping the tea, he could feel their beady eyes on him from time to time, even though every time he looked up they would look away. Their movements were too obvious. This was a game he was used to. It was a game that had defined many of the lunch periods from his old days at school. A simple game where every now and then he’d see if he could catch one of them looking and make awkward eye contact.

“You’re the first Human, you know. It’s why they can’t help but look,” Kitchens said, noticing Darwin’s little eye-contact game.

“Ha, if only I were Human,” Darwin laughed too softly for the others to hear.

The three of them continued sipping their tea quietly--or as quietly as they could with Minx yammering on about everything she saw and observed--when they were finally approached by one of the other groups, who came over to the other side of the table and stood in front of the remaining seats.

“Nya, I see you have new companion, traitor,” the one in front spoke in a heavy Japanese accent. She was a cute, five-foot-six, black-haired cat lady, one modeled more after a common domestic cat than a feral species like the lynx, but only having ears and a cat tail and dressed in full ninja garb from neck to toe.

“Nya, he looks so poor? Is he a beggar? His kimono is very cheap, ne. Nya, it’s like bathrobe, ne,” another Asian girl dressed like a ninja, also modeled after a domestic cat but with whiskers and a cat nose as well as the ears and a tail, laughed from behind the lead girl.

“Kitchens, are they okay?” Darwin asked, ignoring the girl’s mockery. “Why do they keep saying ‘nya’?”

Kitchens let out a hearty laugh. “You’ve never encountered a neko girl?”

“No, not that I can recall.” Darwin scratched his head.

“Nya, why are you ignoring us?” the male of the group butted in.

“It’s ‘cause he is too shameful to know how to respect his betters,” the lead one said. The other two, the girl behind her and the male who matched the ninja theme and could have been the lead one’s twin, did their ‘nya’ thing again and nodded in agreement.

“I take it you all have some history?”

“You could say that,” Kitchens nodded, “They were my teammates.”

“Nya, don’t remind me!” The back one opened her mouth and put one finger in while making a disgusting face. “You’re so not cool, ne. It was charity letting you join us, nya, but you had to try to pick up that ugly, retarded lynx.”

“I still don’t get the ‘nya’ thing. What is that?”

“They’re trying to be kawaii. It’s a thing. Trust me,” Kitchens said before sipping his tea again. His face was calm and unaffected, but Minx’s was visibly tearing up.

Darwin had to admire his patience. Just listening to them talk bad about someone he only knew for a few minutes made him really want to stab them both. If it weren’t for the tournament rules and the fact they were in the middle of a city that probably frowned on PvP killing, he would have done it there and showed them what real charity looked like.

“Nya, so rude!” the lead said abruptly. “Let’s go!” she turned and walked off.

“That was . . . interesting? You put up with them for how long?”

“Only a few days. I probably would still be in their group, but they kept picking on Minxy here because she is, well, Minx,” Kitchens said as he put a hand on the top of Minx’s head, “and I figured we’d be better off without them. I don’t pay for this game to watch the people close to me get bullied.”

Minx nuzzled her head into Kitchens’ hand happily, her smile returning as she let out a mini purr.

-----------

“Blue Contestants! Please make your way to the tournament square two and sit in the fighters’ section!” the lady who had brought them tea yelled, somehow louder than a megaphone, with both hands cupped around her mouth to amplify the sound.

“That’s us,” Kitchens said as he stood up.

Darwin followed Kitchens to the arena with Minx trailing behind him quietly. By the time they got there, the first two rows were filled up, but they were able to scale the stairs and steal some spots on the third row before it filled up too. Looking around, Darwin saw that between the four arenas there were almost a hundred contestants. Each arena was a simple dirt floor with bleachers eight rows deep on each side of it. The contestants entering were only populating the first five rows on one side. The rest seemed to be just citizens eating popcorn and other snacks while they waited for the show to begin.

“The rules are simple,” the announcer began to shout from the center of the dirt square, “Six people enter; only three people leave. Anything you can think of is allowed. Anything you can do to hurt your opponent is encouraged.”

Thunder Dome much? Darwin thought until he realized what that meant. If I don’t win . . .

“Hey, relax. It’s just a game. What’s the worst that can happen? We lose?” Kitchens said, noticing Darwin’s paling face.

“Yeah, it’s just a game . . .” He found himself saying for the second time today.

“By the way, I never got your name.”

“Darwin.”

“Darwin, I’m Kitchens. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.

“Likewise.”

“I’d wish you luck in the tournament, but that would be too self-serving, wouldn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t complain,” Darwin said, looking over at Minx, who was still sitting there quietly. Apparently the neko ninjas had shaken her up a bit. She was acting completely different from when he first met her. It was like she had been a kid hopped up on sugar when they met, and now she was post-crash.

They sat quietly in the stands, Darwin painfully aware of the look on Minx’s face, until the first group was called down to the floor. It was the a group of staff-wielding monkey-men of a Simian Race with the team name ‘Sun Wukong’s Children’ versus a team of three lizard-men of the Reptilian Race with the standard sword-and-board approach called ‘Unmade Boots.’ The fight wasn’t anything noteworthy. The three pairs of unmade snakeskin boots hugged each other shoulder to shoulder with shields raised, and the Simians danced over them and used their mobility to completely shatter the formation. The only noteworthy part of the whole fight was when one of the monkey-men wrapped his tail around the eyes of his opponent as he pole vaulted over his foe and yanked the lizard onto his back, only to be swept off his feet by one of the other Reptilians turning as he battled the monkey-man’s comrade. It was entirely accidental, but it at least gave the fight some semblance of not being entirely one-sided.

“Congratulations, Sun Wukong’s Children!” the announcer said after less than a minute of fighting. The whole display was rather sad for the poor unmade boots, especially the way in which they were finished off with a staff crushing their skulls.

I wonder how offended they would be if their bodies went towards making purses instead of boots? Darwin wondered as the corpses were dragged out of the arena to some unknown location in the back, or even worse, snakeskin underwear for some really gross, sweaty guy.

“Next up: Kitchens, Darwin and Minx versus The Three Musketeers!” the announcer called as soon as the previous contestants were clear of the battleground.

“We don’t have a team name?” Darwin asked as he made his way down.

“I couldn’t think of a good one,” Kitchens shrugged.

“Not even something random? Like Mixed Nuts? Buy two get one free? Fruit Ninjas? Five Dollar Footlongs?

“Those all sound food-related . . . and you’re carrying spoons? Should we be concerned?”

“I just haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Do you need to log off between the matches and grab a quick snack?”

“It wouldn’t help,” Darwin sighed. The idea of eating real life food like Doritos was appealing, but sadly impossible.

“Ha, no ramen left over? I’ve been there. Rent is a pain sometimes,” Kitchens said, his insistence on a tank top instead of something more fashionable making much more sense now, not that Darwin had any room to judge.

“Actually, what’s up with the tank top?” he said, questioning Kitchens’ Street Fighter-esque apparel.

“Oh? It gets hot where I’m from. I find them comfortable,” he said and shrugged again as the three lined up across from The Three Musketeers, who turned out to just be three tiger-men of the Panthera Race in an all-blue armor set brandishing rapiers.

“Hmm. Don’t you need real armor in case you get hit?”

“I’ll worry about that when it happens.” His shrug was becoming trademarkable.

“I guess that confidence is good news for me,” Darwin smiled. He couldn’t help but be curious about how good of a swordsman this Kitchens character actually was.

“Nah, we’ve already gotten into the tournament. If you die, that’s your problem,” he laughed, pulling his katana out and holding it in front of him with both hands. He closed his eyes and grinned ear to ear. “Have fun.”

The announcer backed up slowly from the ring and started counting down the fight. “Three, two, one, FIGHT!” she said, and before the word was even finished, one of the Musketeers lunged at Darwin with a rapier.

Darwin backed up a step and parried the thrust with one of his Burriza’s as if he were trying to stop one of Alex’s attacks with his spoons. He then started to follow it up with a lunge of his own using his free weapon when he felt his heart start pounding again. Hunger, he cursed. His vision painted over with red for a minute. As the red tint faded, he found himself holding a tiger-man’s head--though not the one that was attacking him--in one hand and one of his blades in the other. Even though he had been the one to do it, he experienced the whole thing after the fact like a kid watching an old movie rather than actually living it himself.

He had finished the lunge against the Panthera who had attacked him, nailing him square in the chest with one stab after another in rapid succession until the cavity was wide open. Then, he dashed at the remaining one who was fighting Minx. The tiger-man had been doing everything in his power just to stop Minx’s daggers when Darwin closed in on him. He raised his rapier up to stop the charge, ignoring Minx, who had taken a step back as Darwin narrowed the gap. When Darwin finally made contact, he angled both his swords and brought them down in a rapid parry combination, pulling with the opponent’s right blade just far enough with his own left-hand sword so that the follow up with his right blade could peal through the enemy’s arm, ripping the hand off and leaving it as an odd, twisted stump. Before the enemy could scream, Darwin dropped the Burriza’s Blade in his left hand, reached out and grabbed the tiger’s thick neck fur and severed his head with the remaining blade in his right, leaving him standing above a corpse holding a Panthera’s head in one hand and a blood-dripping sword in the other.

“See Minx, fire. Not water,” Kitchens said in the distance as he sheathed his katana, his own opponent split in two from what looked like a single slash to the chest.

Darwin knew he had gone a little further than was necessary. He had turned a simple competition into a crimson spectacle, but the Hunger was sated. The kills had given him the soul charges needed to satisfy the skill’s demand and restore the hit points it had taken away as well as remove the actual hunger pangs that came with it.

Minx just stared at him for a moment, backing up slowly, “No, no, no . . . he’s just scary--scary scary!” she said.

Minx wasn’t the only one either who thought that as the entire crowd, the same one that had cheered after the first fight, sat in silence staring at the dead Pantheras.

“He’s not scary, Minx; he’s our friend,” Kitchens said as he walked up and patted her head. “Come on, let’s clear the zone so the next contestants can fight.”

“Okay, but you sit next to him this time,” she said, nuzzling back into Kitchens’ hand as he patted her head. “His eyes are scary.”

“Nonsense. He’s a nice guy who helped us get into the tournament. Be respectful.”

When they sat down, Minx stayed quiet for a few minutes, and then halfway through match number four, she finally spoke. “Sorry for saying you are scary, mister.”

“It’s fine. You’re not the only one to say that.” Darwin tried his best to play it off, but he wasn’t used to his own allies being afraid of him.

“No, no, no, you’re good good. It’s just your eyes looked evil . . . like a devil’s! Like you were a demon without the wings, all fire-breathy and ‘rawr rawr,’” she said, holding up her hands and mimicking something between a dragon and Godzilla as she even mockingly pretended to breath fire. “Rawr rawr.”

“Rawr rawr, ey?” Darwin chuckled, caught up in the kid’s silliness.

“No, like this: RAWWWRRR,” she roared and went full-on T-Rex with her arms as she joked around, Kitchens and Darwin following the miniature dinosaur back to the stands.

Before they knew it, the other fights were over and the announcer was already calling them back. “Next up: Kitchens, Darwin and Minx versus The Honey Badgers!”

“That’s us. Let’s get ‘em,” Darwin said excitedly. The fighting was a nice relief from sitting awkwardly next to a girl who seemed to act more like a child than an experienced fighter.

“Sure, sure, just try not to scare the little one again,” Kitchens said. His face was so flat that Darwin wasn’t sure if he was joking or warning.

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s enough. Good luck,” he said, taking his position on the right side, leaving Minx between the two of them as they stood opposite The Honey Badgers.

The Honey Badgers, a group that matched its name just fine, each pulled out shivs that were black and white, matching their own odd fur pattern. One of them even licked the blade creepily as he stared down his opponents.

“Should I cut your head off, old man? Give the tiger-men peace?” the one across from Darwin taunted.

Darwin didn’t even dignify it with a response as he pulled out his Burriza’s Blades. I’ve still got around eight minutes before Hunger interrupts me again, he noted, concerned that it might cause another problem with this fight as well. The passive skill, still new, was unpredictable enough that it did worry him. He knew that he had performed the fight perfectly, but the lack of control he had exhibited during the action was rather disconcerting. He didn’t want to be a bystander to a show that’s outcome could spell out his death.

“What? Do I got you scared, old man?” the honey badger-esque man taunted again. “It’s okay. It’s not like I care. Honey Badger don’t ever care!”

Did he just talk about himself in third person? Here I thought I was losing my sanity.

“Three . . . Two . . . One . . . Fight!” the announcer yelled, prompting Darwin to dash in for a clean lunging slash, but as he did, the honey badger-man-thing backed up, dragging his dagger in a sweep against the ground to pull dirt into the air in an attempt to distract Darwin. Darwin, seeing the dirt in what felt like slow motion, pivoted right, dipped down and pulled his blade in an upward slash at the badger. The badger crossed both his daggers and caught the blade, causing Darwin to feel relieved. What’s the point of holding two blades if you only use them to accomplish one task? he thought as he stabbed his opponent, impaling the badger with his free Burriza’s Blade. As the badger, shocked from the hit, weakened his grip on the two daggers that held off Darwin’s upward slash, that blade joined Darwin’s first one in meeting the flesh of his foe. One down. Who’s left? he wondered, quickly turning to look at the two other fights. Kitchens was standing over his opponent with his arms folded. The badger was cut clean in half like the Panthera he had killed in the first round. Minx was still fending off the other Badger in what looked like a blurry flurry of fast daggers clanging against each other as the two fought as much with their knees and elbows as they did with their weapons. Darwin saw an opportunity and ran around, coming up behind the badger and putting both his blades through the fool’s exposed back. Two down and twenty more minutes for Hunger.

“Mister! That’s not fair!” Minx shouted at Darwin as the pointy ends of his swords popped out of the Badger’s chest in the middle of her fight. “He was mine to kill!”

“Oh, umm . . . Sorry?” Darwin wiped the blood off his blades.

“Hmph. Well, as long as you understand,” she said, her arms crossed and face purposefully flat like Kitchens as she scrunched up her brow.

“Alright, come on you two,” Kitchens said, walking up behind them and putting his hand back on the top of Minx’s head. He wasn’t much taller, barely six feet, but, for some reason as the two walked back to their spots in the stands, it just looked like the hand belonged on top of her head.

“Umm . . . contestants, could you please stay in the Arena. We’re about to begin the final match of the section,” the announcer called as soon as Darwin took the first step up in the stands.

“Oh, oh. yeah. There isn’t another match except our final one, is there?”

“No. There is not,” one of the ‘Sun Wukong’s Children’ members said as he stood up from his seat.

As they walked back towards the center of the dirt arena in awkward silence, the member who spoke earlier turned to Darwin and put forth an open hand. “May this battle bring us both honor,” he said, as Darwin took the invitation for a handshake.

“Let’s both do our best,” he said, happy to see that one of his opponents at least wasn't a jerk.

“Indeed,” he said, walking to the place opposite of Darwin. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“Darwin.” Kitchens looked over at Darwin. “You’re fire. Your opponent is wind. Do not let his gusts blow you out.”

Darwin had no idea what to do with that advice at all. I’m fire? He’s wind? What does that even mean? He looked curiously at the staff in front of him. Don’t let his gusts blow me out? That sounds very wrong.

“Three . . . Two . . . One . . . FIGHT!” the announcer called out, starting the match. Whereas before each match had begun with lunges the second it commenced, this time the announcer’s starting cry was only followed by stillness.

All six of the combatants eyeballed each other anxiously, none of them moving an inch, until finally Minx broke the standoff, screaming, “JABBERWOCKIES ARE NOT MEAN!” as she pulled out two shuriken and threw them at Darwin’s opponent.

Darwin seized the opportunity, the opening that his opponent’s defense against the shuriken had left, and moved in as quickly as he could. Before he could get too close though, the monkey-man spun his staff at Darwin’s chest, forcing him to brace and shift right, only to be met by an oncoming tail that moved towards his legs.

Darwin cut down at the oncoming tail, clipping part of the tip off, but in the process didn’t have a free hand to block the monkey’s free fist as it hit him square in the stomach and pushed Darwin back. Wind, ey? How does a fire beat wind? he thought, deciding to consider for a moment what Kitchens had said. Not letting him relax though, the monkey vaulted forward at Darwin, who had backed up a bit, planting his staff in the ground and using it to launch his body with both feet forward at Darwin. Darwin was about to plant in and try to block it, but figured he’d go against his nature and try something different: he jumped. To be exact, he jumped right before the impact in the direction the legs were going to push him, using both his arms to catch the armored shins without letting go of the blades as he was knocked to the right. It didn’t cut or hurt the Simian’s legs, but it left him sprawled out on the ground without his staff. The monkey, not expecting the outcome, scrambled for a moment towards the staff that had fallen away from him after the vaulted kick failed, but it was too late. Darwin rolled into him, blade first, right into his back. As he pulled the dripping edge from the monkey, Kitchens stood above him with a hand extended.

“Fire must be careful to be fueled by the wind, lest the wind scatter it into nothing,” he said. Darwin looked over at the two other Simians, both dead, and smiled. They had won the first rounds.

“Stabby stabby, dead dead! I killed one too!” Minx said happily as she joined the two of them. “Minx the Lynx knows the tricks for sticks!” she said, crouching into a boxing stance and stabbing the air with her daggers a few times.

“That you do. Good job. Now, how ‘bout we all go get some tea while we wait for the semifinals?” Kitchens asked, patting Minx twice.

“Tea sounds good,” Darwin admitted, following the two of them, “but shouldn’t we wait for the announcer to excuse us?”

“Oh, her? No. It’s fine. She’ll be bringing us tea anyways. It’s part of the reason the entry fee is expensive.”

“The entry fee was expensive?”

“Yeah, it was at least twenty Gold,” Kitchens said, causing Darwin’s eyes to pop open.

Twenty Gold is a lot? he thought, remembering that his count was likely well over tens of thousands by now from all the spears and weapons from farming the silver ore mine and the White-Wing corpses on the beach. “I’ll . . . I’ll reimburse you,” he said.

“No, it’s fine. The prize is enough to cover your share of the entry fee and then some. We’re in your debt, not the other way around.”

“Sounds good to me. Now, do they have crumpets to go with that tea?”

“If you ask.”

“Great, I’m going to need cookies too,” Darwin was still feeling the effects of a hunger that didn’t come with his Job Class as they walked back to their seats in the winning area.

“Asking for cookies on the Internet? That’s a little cliche, Darwin, but we’ll get some.”

“Nom nom nom.” Minx ate at an invisible cookie as the three sat down in their seats, happy with their win and ready to enjoy some tea and sweets. “Chocolate chip cookies are the best,” she said, smiling.

Robert:

Robert was guided around the corner of the house and across his own lawn by the bulky fellow who had only moments ago come knocking at his door. The entire situation should have been entirely circumspect, but Robert was only vaguely aware of small warning bells tinkling away in the back of his brain telling him that something was off. After all, the man had never even identified himself. He had simply indicated that Charles was waiting for him, and that was supposed to serve as enough information for Robert to follow along complacently without question. Robert accepted that he was scheduled to have a meeting with Charles. That much he knew and could expect. But after the strange outcome of the meeting that morning, which had concluded with Charles walking out and ending the discussion all together, Robert found himself on unsteady footing without the least idea what was going on--a feeling he was becoming increasingly more familiar with these days. He had absolutely no idea what to expect from the meeting with Charles, but being surreptitiously escorted from his own home definitely wasn't something he ever could have imagined.

A second man waited for them on the street, holding open the rear door to a black luxury car. Robert wasn't knowledgeable enough about high end models to place the vehicle outright, but he knew at first glance that it must have cost a pretty penny.

"Good afternoon, sir," the man holding open the door greeted him with a small bow of his head as they approached. He was an older gentlemen, probably in truth only slightly older than Robert, but his moustache was more gray than black at this point in his life, and the little bit of close-cropped hair that was noticeable underneath the chauffeur's cap he wore seemed to be losing the same battle against time.

"Good afternoon," Robert replied as he reached the vehicle. "Where exactly a--"

"Right this way, if you please," the second man cut him off, and, with a wave of his hand, indicated that Robert should take a seat in the car.

"But, I don't even--"

"Sir," the man interjected again, "Dr. Charles is waiting." The way he responded couldn't exactly be called rude. Nevertheless, though his voice never changed tone, never fluctuated, it was clear that Robert wasn't going to get anywhere with him either. Something about the way in which he spoke indicated that Robert was expected to come along quietly and comply without being too inquisitive.

"Yes, thank you." Robert chose to simply go along with it for now, despite the little alarms going off inside his head getting slightly louder.

His first impressions were immediately confirmed as soon as he took a seat in the car, removing his laptop case from over his shoulder and setting it on the seat beside him as he did so. The vehicle was definitely designed with luxury in mind. Everything from the spacious interior, the copious amounts of leg and head room, the soft tan leather seats with their fine black stitching, and the wood-grained paneling on the door exuded accommodation and comfort. The vehicle even smelled right--that perfect combination of new car smell and clean, fresh leather that was only possible to achieve, usually by complete accident, within a few months of the vehicle being used.

The facts became even more obvious as the linebacker of a man who had initially greeted him in his kitchen opened the adjacent rear door and took a seat next to him. Robert realized quite happily that, even with his laptop separating the two of them, both he and the bear of a man fit more than comfortably together in the back seat of the car.

"Very good, sir," the older gentleman said as he entered the car and took his position in the driver's seat. "I trust you will be comfortable during our ride." It's like the man had read Robert's mind and was trying to drive the point home.

Was I staring so obviously? Robert wondered.

"Yes, it's very nice," Robert answered. "But if you could perhaps just tell me where we will be meeting with Charles? I thought that we were supposed to have the meeting at the office, but now I get the impression that has changed."

The driver glanced into the rearview mirror as he shifted the car into drive and began pulling away from the curb long enough for Robert to catch a glimpse of his smile. The man, however, never answered as they began driving away.

I didn't even realize that the car was already running, Robert thought to himself. The sedan had been so quiet and smooth while idling that it had never even occurred to him it had already been started.

His initial suspicions were confirmed almost as soon as the car began moving. If they were going to meet Charles at the office, the man would have had to either pull a u-turn in the middle of the street, which was as unlikely a thing as he could imagine a chauffeur ever doing, or turn at the end of the block and make his way back towards where the office was located within the city. Instead, the man simply continued making his way along the same route, eventually exiting off onto the loop and making his way towards the highway.

Robert decided to just settle in and go along for the ride. There wasn't much else he could do, anyway. He knew that if they were exiting out onto the highway, they were going to be in for a bit of a journey. The city had grown quite significantly within the past decade as more and more companies began moving into the area, and its population was somewhat bolstered by the local military base, but it was far from reaching the monolithic proportions of the true metropolises of the country.

As more and more people flocked to the city seeking to fill jobs the emerging businesses created, the suburbs in the surrounding areas had grown in response. Although it was one of the older of such areas that Robert lived in, it had still been, at one time, a pop-up subdivision. Neatly spaced homes with clean-cut lawns and ornamental shrubbery was the name of the game in areas like his.

By taking the highway, Robert knew they were leaving all that behind. As the suburbs began fading away behind them, they were left on long stretches of road only occasionally marked by the infrequent billboard, highway marker, or intermittent connecting road. The highway was flanked on either side by either alternating periods of untouched, natural woodland or long stretches of pasture where herds of cattle and the occasional group of horses could be seen grazing.

I feel like I just stepped into the lyrics of a country song, Robert mused to himself as he watched it all roll by through the heavily-tinted windows. Even though it was unseasonably warm outside, and the sun was shining brightly, the inside of the car was dim, comfortable and cool. The driver never changed speed, the ride was smooth and pleasant, and he actually found that he was starting to relax a bit and enjoy himself as it wore on.

Robert lost track of how long they had been traveling by the time the car finally began to slow down. He had a vague sense of how long he had been in the vehicle, but it had been blurred into a hazy memory of nondescript, indistinctive pastures and woodlands. Snapping back into focus, he immediately began taking stock of his surroundings. For some time now, they had been passing a long wooden fence made from interlocked wooden beams. It had the look of being better maintained than some of the others they had passed during the trip, but was otherwise unremarkable from any of the rest. As they began slowing, however, Robert's attention was immediately drawn to the fact that the wooden fence had instead been replaced with a series of tightly-spaced black iron bars.

The car finally came to almost a complete stop before turning off onto what appeared to be the start of a private driveway. As the driver negotiated the turn from the roadway, Robert noticed him, from the corner of his eye, reach up and press a button just underneath the rearview mirror. Almost instantly, two huge wrought iron gates that would have otherwise barred their path began swinging inwards, opening up the way before them. Massive trees were interspersed in lines framing each side of the roadway, their trunks reaching skyward until their branches eventually interlocked, creating a sort of canopy over the road. As far as he could see in either direction behind the trees, there was nothing but grass until it gave way and turned back into woods. Unlike the pastures they had passed during the drive, however, this field had the look of a massive, well-manicured lawn rather than unkempt pasture turned over to animals and livestock for grazing. Robert was also dimly aware of the fact that the surface of the road had changed, although he couldn't noticeably tell the difference in the way it felt from inside the car.

I feel like I'm being escorted onto a college campus with a tour group, Robert thought, amused at the comparison. Before accepting his position as a programmer with the company he worked at now developing the game, he had toyed with the idea of teaching a few college classes. He was certainly more than qualified and had tons of experience in the field. He had taken a tour of more than a few colleges across the country while he was interviewing for possible teaching positions, and for some reason, they always wanted to approach the school from the most scenic route. The university could be ultra high-tech and extremely modern in design, but, without fail, there was always at least one place on campus they could show off as 'scenic’ and 'having a view.'

The car rolled along for some time until the lines of trees escorting them on either side of the roadway suddenly came to an end, and Robert was greeted with his first view of where they might actually be headed. The long driveway finally came to an end in a long, looping circle before doubling back on itself. The house, or mansion, was large enough in size to have been appropriately called a small compound without the sinister undertones. Long, sprawling flower beds bordered the driveway as it approached the manor, which was surrounded, at least on the front structure, by a long porch. Huge white columns supported the roof over the porch, vaguely reminding Robert of antebellum houses he had seen while visiting old plantations during his time in the South. What caught his attention, however, was the fountain in the center of the roundabout where the roadway turned back on itself. From this distance he couldn't be certain, but rather than the standard design he would have expected--dolphins, angels, or cherubs--Robert was almost certain the fountain was designed to look like a multi-headed serpent spewing water forth from all of its heads.

Robert was still staring at the design trying to make out the details when the car came to a stop, and his attention was immediately turned instead to the chauffeur exiting the car and walking around to open the door for him.

"This way, if you please, sir," the man said with a smile as he held the door open for him.

Robert couldn't be certain, but he fairly sure the man was trying to stifle a laugh. I must look like a wide-eyed schoolgirl, he admonished himself.

Grabbing his laptop case from the seat beside him, Robert exited the car and stood up, pleasantly surprised to find he wasn't nearly as stiff from the ride as he had anticipated. He heard a door click shut and noticed that the silent mountain of a man that had been his traveling companion had exited the car as well and was coming around the rear of it to accompany him into the building.

"Thank you," Robert said to the older gentleman who had driven him all this time. "That was actually quite enjoyable."

The man's smile never wavered as he nodded knowingly in response. He shut the car door behind Robert before walking around, entering the vehicle and then driving away.

Robert follow his escort up the stairs and onto the porch, glancing around and trying to take in everything he could. The mansion was simply-designed on the outside, but the sheer scale of the place and the beauty of the surrounding countryside made it stand out as opulent and lavish. The large wooden door swung open to receive them as they crossed the porch, and it wasn't until Robert had crossed the threshold and his eyes adjusted to the slight difference in lighting that he noticed a slenderly-framed woman who had been holding it open for them. She was clad head to toe in a strange black uniform that Robert had never seen before. His best guess was that she was some type of maid, but he never had the chance to ask as she stealthily slipped behind him and away through an adjoining door and disappeared before he had the opportunity to even say 'thank you.'

Robert barely had time to take in the entranceway around the hulking figure of his guide before he was ushered away in the opposite direct from where the lithe, uniformed woman had gone.

"This way," the man said, his deep, bass voice resonating throughout the room. Robert thought he could almost hear a faint echo.

"Alright. Lead on then," Robert responded as he took a quick step to keep up with his companion, who was now lumbering away through an adjoining room and heading towards a connecting hallway.

Try as though he might to take it all in, the man was moving far too quickly for Robert to get a good look at everything as he passed by. The first room appeared to have been designed as a sitting room, directly off the entrance. Lightly colored hardwood floors led across the room to a massive fireplace that dominated the far wall. Filling the room between the doorway and the fireplace were various couches, sofas, and recliners sitting facing each other as if they were intended for entertaining.  Several small end tables were positioned so that they would always be at arm's reach from any of the other furniture, and Robert quickly spied what he guessed was a square glass decanter of scotch.

Rooms led off in various directions from the left of the hallway, but all the doors were closed, and Robert could only guess what they may have contained. To his right, however, the wall quickly gave way to glass paneling which was letting sunlight stream in from an atrium. Several small flower beds, all looking carefully nurtured, surrounded various different types of trees that appeared to have been randomly placed throughout the area to create shade for a handful of stone benches. He had just enough time to catch sight of what may have been a coy pond and a small stream on the far side of the atrium before he passed the scene entirely and was born on further into the mansion.

The long stretch of tiled hallway ended and was replaced once again by the hardwood floors, and Robert could only look around him in amazement. The room they had entered was, if nothing else,  remarkable for its sheer size. It wasn't just the size of the room, however, that caused Robert's mouth to hang openly slightly and his eyes to grow rounder by the minute.

They had entered into what appeared to be a home library--only on a much larger scale than anything Robert had ever imagined actually existed. Rows of books lined the walls, stacked so high on shelves he was certain he would need a ladder to reach the highest ones. Eventually, on what would have been the third story, there was a catwalk that framed the outside of the room, giving access to even more shelves of books. They were so high up, Robert had to tilt his head back to even get a good look at them. The room was filled with several long wooden tables on the ground level, each with several small reading lamps placed along them. In various different places there even were large, overstuffed leather chairs with small tables placed next to them, each also containing a small lamp to give light for reading.

"Alright," Robert said quietly, afraid of breaking the aura of reverence in the room. "I'm impressed now."

The man he was following chuckled before answering in his deep voice. "Only just now?"

Robert was surprised to see any sign of an actual reaction from the fellow, much less receive a reply however sarcastic it may have been.

After they crossed through the library and exited into a second smaller hallway on the far end, his companion abruptly came to a stop outside a dark wooden door.

"Dr. Charles is expecting you," he said as he quickly rapped his knuckles on the door before swinging it open. The walking tower then took a step back and stood facing Robert, blocking his view so that it was impossible to catch a glimpse of anything else further past him.

Robert glanced around the partially-opened door into the room. Charles was seated behind a heavy wooden desk at the far end, head bent down over his work in front of him, his pen quickly scratching across the top sheet on a rather large stack of papers. He was still wearing the same patterned, yellow tie he had on early at the meeting, but his jacket had been taken off and draped across the plush leather office chair he was sitting in.

Stepping through the doorway, Robert found himself unsure of how he was supposed to react.  On one hand, he was sure that it would be rude to interrupt someone while he was working. There was no telling what those documents might contain. Charles was the acting CEO of numerous multi-million dollar corporations. Even the smallest distraction that resulted in a mistake or something as simple as a misplaced comma could result in a potential catastrophe for everyone involved. Like a medical doctor writing directions to nurses or prescriptions, even the smallest error could result in disaster. A clipped, forgotten, or hastily scribbled 'm' for milligrams suddenly became a lazy 'g' for grams, and the patient was dead, not on the road  to recovery. On the other hand, Robert had been invited here--or brought here, anyway, presumably by invitation. It was rude for Charles to ignore him and keep him waiting as well, especially with him standing there awkwardly watching the man work.

In the end, Robert decided it was for the best just to be patient and wait. If nothing else, it gave him a moment to take in his surroundings and get a bearing on the room. After having just passed through such a massive, open library, the room felt small and cramped. It was, by all appearances, a well-used office. There were several smaller bookcases, all in varying states of disarray with misplaced books and disheveled papers covering their shelves. The dark wood paneling on the walls, in combination with the dark wooden furniture, including the desk Charles was working at now, seemed to make the room much dimmer than it was despite its ample lighting. There was a thick, heavy carpet laid over the wooden floor, and Robert could feel it shifting under his feet as he stood there trying not to fidget while taking everything in.

Charles finally dropped his pen on the desk beside his work and looked up at Robert.

"Ah, Robert! Thank you for coming," he said with a smile as he rose from where he was sitting and proffered a hand to Robert.

"Yes, of course. Thank you for inviting me. It's my pleasure," Robert replied, walking across the room to grip the offered hand in a handshake. He chose not to mention the fact that it hadn't been an invitation so much as a kidnapping. Not that he imagined many people ever dared to tell Charles 'no' anyway.

"My apologies for having to change the circumstances of our meeting at the last minute. I had intended to spend the day downtown at the office, but I had some things come up that needed my immediate attention. It's a shame, too. I was really looking forward to taking a full tour of all the different departments and getting a better idea of how things work there on a day-to-day basis. Some of the things you guys have accomplished are simply incredible."

Robert couldn't suppress the chuckle that built up in his chest at the idea. "Well, I'm afraid you wouldn't have seen much of the normal, day-to-day operations, anyway. Even the idea of you being in the building seemed to have put people into panic mode."

"Ah . . ." Charles cocked his head slightly to the side, but nodded in understanding as he did so.  A flicker of sadness appeared in the smile he still wore as he responded, "Yes, it's unfortunate, but I do often elicit that response for some reason. People do seem to get a little nervous when I show up places unannounced. Perhaps I'll have the opportunity sometime in the future to make another visit."

"Yes, perhaps," Robert replied, but then added, "Just not too soon, I hope. My shoes will squeak themselves to death on the floors if you make a habit of it." He smiled broadly, showing that it was a well-intended joke.

Charles' smile deepened, and the passing look Robert had noticed was immediately gone.

"So, please, forgive me. Where are my manners? Have a seat. Have a seat," Charles said as he waved his hand towards one of the chairs pulled up in front of his desk before retaking his own and sitting down. "I hope you don't mind, but I've arranged for us to have a bit of lunch. I know that it's a little later in the afternoon than most people are accustomed to, but I find that, with all the late hours I work, if I don't eat a bit later than usual, I'm starving before I ever have time to get around to dinner."

"No, no," Robert replied. "I haven't actually eaten yet either." He patted his stomach as it gave a small gurgle at the idea of food, which had been momentarily forgotten until now. "I made it home after the meeting this morning, but only had time for a bit of coffee and a quick chat with my daughter before leaving."

"Kass?" Charles inquired.

Robert's brows furrowed slightly in a strange mix of curiosity, confusion, fear, anxiety, and worry only a father would recognize.

"You've met my daughter?" he asked.

"Oh, no, I'm afraid I haven't had that pleasure. I heard you mention her earlier during the meeting," Charles responded dismissively. "You'll have to introduce me one day."

Robert felt relief wash through him.  Why did that make me so nervous? "Yes, I'm sure she'd like that. I've actually been trying to talk her into taking a job with the company, but she doesn't seem very keen on the idea for some reason."

"You mean she doesn't want to work at the same place her old man does?" Charles asked with a bit of a laugh. "I can't ever imagine why not."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure that's at least part of it," Robert replied. "She's also a big fan of the game, and she's worried that signing the Non-Disclosure Agreement and the contractual prohibitions of interference within the game world would stop her from being able to play. Truth be told, she has a habit of getting caught up in things . . . perhaps a little too much, sometimes. Some time off from playing may not be the worst thing for her.

"But," Robert held up his hands as he gave a shrug, "there's only so much you can do. All you can really hope for sometimes is to give them a strong moral compass and point them in the right direction and hope they figure out things for themselves. I know I certainly made my own share of mistakes growing up. Back then, though . . ." Robert trailed off, reminiscing for a moment. "Things were different. The world was much more forgiving in a lot of ways than it is now."

Charles had been nodding his head in agreement with Robert the entire time, and he continued to do so as he said, "Yeah. Could you imagine what you would have said if someone had told you there would be personal computers inside every home, in every pocket and purse, and you would be connected to the rest of the world at the touch of a button? I would have called them crazy, and that would have been being nice, I'm afraid."

"Well, at least partly crazy, anyway. I don't think anyone could have ever have envisioned the world we live in now. I remember always thinking as a child that we would be zooming around in flying cars or with jet packs . . . that we would be living in the 'Homes of Tomorrow'"--Robert feigned making quotation marks in the air with this hands as he said it-- "where everything would always fix and clean itself at the push of a button.

I think I always knew that technology was going to be big. I think that's at least part of why I started studying computers and programming back then. I always wanted to be able to keep up with where the world was going, maybe have a little hand in helping it along. As for smartphones?" Robert laughed as he reached his conclusion. "No way did I ever see that one coming."

"What was it you think that made you choose to work as a programmer?" Charles asked, curiosity showing on his face.

"Now, that. . . " Robert began, then stopped. "Well, there was this girl . . ." Robert laughed before continuing. "Kass's mother and I met while we were both still in college. Computers back then were really big and an even bigger pain in the rear end. People were only just starting to open up to the possibilities, what they were capable of. She was working as an assistant to one of the professors at the university, and I took it up in order to get to spend more time with her. It's a bit clichéd, I know, the whole whirlwind college romance and all, but it worked out. Everything was just amazing the entire time I was with her. Then, one day, you graduate and move on in life . . . build a home and a career together and then Kass comes along. Shortly after, we lost her mother, but I had Kass, so things worked out, I suppose."

Charles held up his hands defensively as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry into anything too personal."

"Oh, no, it's alright. They're good memories," Robert answered. "As for being a programmer, well, I guess it just fit my nature. I found out I liked the work. Everything is always logical. There's always a cause for every problem. You just have to be able to find the solution. You can get a computer to do anything. You just have to figure out how to talk to it, to be able to tell it what to do. I think that appeals to me."

Almost as soon as Robert had finished, there was a quiet knock at the door behind him just before he heard it click open. Robert turned in his seat to see who had entered. A portly woman, middle-aged at first glance and wearing the same strange black uniform he had noted on the maid earlier, had entered halfway into the room.

"Lunch is ready to be served, sir," she said, addressing Charles across the room. "We have arranged for you to dine on the patio today if it is to your liking, sir." She turned and left the room before Charles ever had the chance to respond, leaving Robert staring at the open door after her.

Charles must have seen the look on Robert's face as he turned back around in his chair because he said, "That's Martha. She's taken it upon herself to act as a bit of a motherly figure around here. Always makes sure I eat no matter where I am or what I'm doing. I was in a meeting in Tokyo once not too long ago, ironing out the details in an acquisition I had been gunning after for quite some time.  There I was, pressing the president of a multi-million dollar corporation and several of his highest-ranking board members to take quite a large financial hit and come down to my terms before closing out the deal, and in walks a little Japanese woman carrying a tray with lunch on it for me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She left me holding the lunch and all she ever said was 'Miss Martha. Very scary' before turning around and walking out. Everyone there was a bit shocked to say the least, myself included. Now, here lately, she has it in her head that I don't spend enough time outside 'getting sun' as she calls it.

"Who am I to resist?" Charles asked, laughing all the while as he stood up and moved from around the desk. "Please, right this way, Robert. Martha's meals are always as much a treat as they are a surprise."

Robert followed Charles out of the office and into the hallway, turning towards the as-of-yet unexplored part of the house. As soon as they left the room, the ever present human tackling dummy of an escort appeared as if from nowhere to fall in a few steps behind them. Charles led him down a connecting hallway that ended in a pair of double glass doors which opened up onto a small, private patio. The patio, paved in a pattern of dark red, hexagonal stone bricks, extended only a short distance before meeting with the exceptionally well-manicured lawn, which, in turn, continued down a small hill until it eventually turned into the lush grounds Robert had seen earlier as he approached the estate.

Robert couldn't help but comment as he seated himself at the small glass patio table, replete with the umbrella opened overhead. "This view . . . the grounds . . . everything is absolutely breathtaking."

"Yes," Charles agreed as he seated himself across from Robert, "I consider myself extremely fortunate to be able to call this my home. I just wish I was able to spend more time here. Ah, well, maybe one day when I get old and finally decide to retire, right?"

"And that library," Robert gushed. "I don't think I've seen anything like that outside of an actual  university. To think, you have all those books just on hand whenever you feel like reading. I can't even imagine what it might contain."

"To be honest, I'm not certain I could tell you even if you were to ask. Most of the books were purchased as lots from various estate sales from around the world. Many of them are quite old and fragile, but there are some true treasures there as well, I assure you." Charles took a sip of the water that was already poured and waiting for them.

"I hope you don't mind," Charles began, "but whenever I have the opportunity to dine at home, I prefer to throw all the properties out the window." He said this as he spread a white napkin across his lap, and the small bit of irony wasn't lost on Robert. "I have to sit through so many stuffy black-tie, white-tablecloth dinners that I've learned to relish the chance to enjoy a casual meal."

Robert was actually somewhat relieved to hear him say so. He was comfortable enough with all the proper etiquette associated with a formal dining experience, but he was usually so worried about making any small uncouth mistake, like using the wrong fork, that he never really had the opportunity to enjoy the actual meal.

"No, believe me," Robert assured him, "I'm just happy for any meal that doesn't involve SpaghettiO's, Pop Tarts or Lucky Charms."

"I assume you must let Kass do the cooking most nights at home then?" Charles inquired.

As he was speaking, two women, again dressed in the black uniform Robert was now becoming accustomed to, came through the patio doors behind them and set down a plate in from of each man before again returning inside.

Robert answered as he glanced down at what was being served in front of him, "Not when it can be avoided, anyway. I've always enjoyed cooking. It was something my wife and I used to do together when she was still alive, and, ever since then, being in the kitchen just reminds me of spending time with her. Kass was away at college for so long, though, and with me working so many late nights leading up to the release of the game, we kind of fell out of the habit and never really got back into it. Lately, it's been an 'everyone fend for yourself' kind of system.

I'm hoping that will change soon, though. My workload really started to drop off in the last few weeks, and I'm starting to make it home at a more reasonable hour. The only challenge now is getting Kass to log out of her game long enough to come downstairs for dinner. I swear, sometimes it's like they never really grow up and are in high school all over again."

Robert appraised the plate in front of him: grilled salmon garnished with little sprigs of rosemary and a lemon slice on a bed of sautéed spinach and a handful of small, herbed fingerling potatoes. "And, believe me, this is a wonderful treat." His stomach was practically growling in anticipation.

"Good," Charles answered as he began eating. "I was worried you might have a food allergy. You're always taking a chance as a host when serving fish without having asked first."

"Oh, no. No, no," Robert answered as he cut into the salmon and took his first bite. It was so light and flaky he wasn't entirely certain the fish hadn't literally melted in his mouth.

"So your daughter is enjoying the game then?" Charles questioned as he ate. "It must be wonderful knowing you helped create something she loves taking part in."

"I'm not entirely certain she sees it that way, but she seems to having enough fun playing it. She's quite proud of the fact that she's managed to out-level most of the other mages in the game so far, and I think she's pushing herself to keep it that way."

"Well, it's always good to set a goal for ourselves in anything we do," Charles responded.

Robert nodded in response as he continued eating. He didn't even really care for cooked spinach all that much, but this was amazing.

"Has she said much about her experience? I'm sure that having a player living in the same house must have its advantages."

"Not really," Robert shook his head. "She does come up with some rather interesting questions from time to time though."

"Well, hopefully you aren't giving away too many of our secrets," Charles said with a wry smile.

"Oh, no, nothing like that," Robert assured him. "She was rather unhappy earlier about the travel system. It turns out that, even in a game, she isn't very happy about having to take a boat ride to get to the mainland."

"Hmm, well, hopefully she at least has some interesting company to help pass the time. I know on long trips it always helps having someone to talk to."

Both of the men took the opportunity to dig into their meals and finish the last small portions in relative silence. Robert didn't want to be rude, but the food really was so good that he was almost entirely focused on enjoying every last bite he could. When he finished, he laid his fork and napkin in his plate, signaling that he was done. A maid appeared, as if she had been watching in secret and waiting for just this moment, to remove it from the table along with Charles’.

"You were right," Robert said. "That really was exceptional. If Martha is your cook, you really must pay her my compliments. I can't even remember when I've been able to enjoy a meal that exceptional. I can only imagine how your dinners must look. I'm actually a little envious just imagining it."

"Thank you, and I'll be happy to pass along your compliments. I think she takes a certain bit of pride in her cooking. She rarely ever lets anyone else help her in the kitchen. Well, when she has it her way."

Another maid had silently reappeared as Charles was speaking. She left the tray she was carrying on the table before disappearing again.

"Coffee?" Charles asked as he reached for a silver pot and a cup to pour it in.

"Of course. A man of similar thinking to my own," Robert answered as he took the cup of coffee from Charles, having allowed it to be poured for him. "Thank you."

"To be honest, I actually prefer tea to coffee," Charles said, pouring himself a cup from the second pitcher that was present on the tray. You should try one of the cookies as well," Charles advised.  "Martha bakes them herself, fresh every day."

"Well, I wouldn't want to be rude," Robert said as he reached out and took a few for himself.

"Chocolate chip are my favorite, but none of the others ever let me down either."

After the excellent meal he had just consumed, Robert wasn't nearly as surprised as he would have been otherwise to find that the cookies were soft and buttery in the way only a wonderfully crafted, home-baked cookie could be. Nothing you could ever find in the store was ever nearly this good.

"So let me ask you," Charles said as he slid his chair away from the table and leaned back, crossing his legs and holding the cup of tea in his lap. "You've seen the world of Tiqpa from both the inside and out. What are your impressions of it?"

Robert had been vaguely wondering if Charles was ever going to ask him that question. As the lead programmer, he had a more intimate knowledge of how the world worked, what made it tick, than anyone else. Quite literally, he had helped build the backbone of the world.

"I think," Robert began, as he took a sip of his coffee, "that it's actually something I'm proud of having helped create. The learning curve was fairly steep at first, but I think I brought myself up to speed rather quickly. Pairing up the different structures was certainly a challenge. The architecture is completely different between the game and the AI, and I have to admit that I had my doubts originally that we were ever going to get it up and working correctly. Not having access to how the AI works or knowing much about how it was created certainly made it interesting at times.

It's like . . ." Robert paused briefly as he searched for an example. "It's like trying to do a heart transplant without knowing anything about the donor. Or I suppose a brain transplant may be more apt," Robert chuckled at the idea.

Charles nodded appreciatively. "Yes, I can see the challenges that would present. It would be like taking someone's personality, their hopes, dreams, ticks and habits--a person whom you know nothing about--and trying to make that personality control someone else's body."

"Yes, exactly. It was definitely interesting at times to say the least."

"Tell me, Robert, and forgive me for prying, but what do you dream of?"

Robert wasn't exactly sure how to either take or answer the question. Was this his boss asking him what his aspirations in life were? What were his goals for the future with the company? Or was this simply a much more mundane question?

Robert chose to err with the former, given the nature of the conversation, and decided to play it safe, answering accordingly. "Oh, well, I'm not sure I really dream of very much anymore. I'm pretty lucky to have just about everything I could have ever imagined when I was first just starting out in life."

"So when you wake up in the middle of the night, there are no dreams left lingering at the edges of your memory?"

"Well, to be honest, if I wake up in the middle of the night the first thought on my mind is how fast I can make it to the bathroom," Robert answered with a laugh.

"Touché," Charles responded.

"No, but, on a more serious note, I rarely ever remember very many of my dreams once I'm awake. I know that medical science says we must have them during the deep stages of REM sleep, but I'm not even entirely sure when was the last time I woke up still thinking about what I had been dreaming of. Usually, it only happens when someone calls during the middle of the night, and I'm forced awake to the sound of the phone buzzing. Even then, if someone is calling in the middle of the night, it has to be important and my thoughts are immediately shifted somewhere else: why are they calling so late at night, where is Kass, what went wrong at work? As soon as I'm awake, I guess the dreams are gone just as quickly. Why do you ask?"

"Well," Charles responded, taking another sip of his tea, "dreams have always been rather interesting to me. There are many cultures throughout history that took them quite seriously. They could be signs of the future, warnings of dangers that were coming up or trials and tribulations that had to be passed. Many people even believed that dreams were a form of communication with the spirits of the deceased that had passed on from life in this world. They were mechanisms for our deceased forefathers to be able to communicate with us, whatever the reason.

Now, however, most of that is largely disregarded by the scientific community as inaccurate. We tend to view dreams as the result of an active imagination as the brain tries to process and store memories. People often relive scenes from their everyday lives as  their brain struggles to make sense of the information. In more extreme cases, we know that people are often haunted in their dreams if they have experienced a traumatic event, being forced to relive it over and over again. Similarly, people often dream of what they think they may want most out of life. If someone is fixated on dating a girl, for example, he may dream of what it is like to be with her in his dreams.

"But, even now with all our advanced technology, we have no method for recording dreams other than our own memories. We have the ability to instantly communicate with anyone else around the world in the blink of an eye. We can communicate with satellites millions of miles away on different planets across the vast expanses of space. It seems to present quite the conundrum, doesn't it? We have to rely on memory, however temporarily, to record our own thoughts. Sure, we can write down our recollections upon waking, but human memory, as we well know, is often fallible to the point of being completely inaccurate. Memory tests of certain events show the brain is much more likely to fill in missing details that it expects to be there than actually record them as they truthfully were. We can experience an infinite number of events while we're asleep and maybe only ever remember a handful--if we're lucky. It's almost like there is some strange distortion of time while we're asleep."

"I think I can see what you're saying," Robert answered after Charles had finished speaking. "But, and forgive me for asking this, why does it matter?"

Charles shrugged and sipped his tea. "As I said, it's something of a hobby of mine. I've always been fascinated with how the brain works, what makes it tick. The technical aspects of dreaming just appealed to my naturally inquisitive nature, I suppose.

“For example, what purpose do dreams serve from an evolutionary standpoint? We know that every person will experience dreaming during their lives, during the natural course of being asleep. But what function does it serve? How much of a role does it really play in aiding the survival of the species? Like philosophy, they could easily be dismissed as a superfluous function of higher learning and leisure. At the most basic level, dreaming isn't going to overtly keep you alive, tell you where to find food or shelter. So from an evolutionary standpoint, dreams only really serve a few niche purposes. Yet, we know that even in the most primitive societies where every day was a fight to stay alive, they still had dreams while they were asleep at night. It has been widely hypothesized that dreams are a problem solving function of the brain as it tries to sort out information it gathered during the day and resolve unanswered questions. I’m sure you’re familiar with the phrase ‘let me sleep on it.’

“So does that mean that the ability to dream is a trait that we have learned from society? Brain scans of newborn infants and even children still in the womb have shown activity in the cortex of the brain associated with dreaming. Those areas of the brain light up and show patterns the same as the average adult. As such, we must rule out dreams as a byproduct of society. Although we can neither confirm nor deny that a newborn child is indeed dreaming, it would seem the logical conclusion based on our understanding of how the brain works that they actually do dream. Dreaming, then, cannot possibly be categorized as a learned ability.

“If it is only partially linked to evolutionary purposes as a  survival mechanism, and it's not a learned ability such as speech, for example, where does it come from? We do know, however, through our studies on the subject that, despite not being a socially-learned behavior, there are several commonalities throughout every person's individual dreams. When you're dreaming, for example, you often find yourself placed in extraordinary situations that you would never likely face during your waking life.  Yet, no one ever has to ever be told what's happening or what to do. How do you know, just know, that you're going to fall from a tall building and die? You never hit bottom--well, I've never heard of anyone who actually hit bottom, anyway--yet somehow, within the dream, you know that you're going to do it. Reason doesn't apply there. The rules are real and absolute. You know them with certainty and believe them with conviction.

“Why do you think it is that everyone seems to report experiencing the reoccurrence of the same common themes within dreams? Why do the same monsters haunt the dark corners of everyone's brain? How do you know that there are demons lurking in the shadows? That the boogeyman is coming for you?

“When we're awake, we can easily dismiss these ideas with simple logic and reason as fairytales.  'There's nothing in the shadows of the night that isn't there during the day.' We rationalize away our fears that haunt us during the darkest hours of the night, but does that mean that when we're dreaming that we suspend these higher brain functions all together? Are we more at one with our primitive, animalistic selves, or do we simply reject all higher learning and theory in favor of simple, more natural principles and actions? Have we allowed higher thinking and philosophy to overcome natural instinct, or have a thousand years of rationalization and logic undone thousands of years of evolution--or do those still exist somewhere within the brain?"

Robert became immediately aware of several things as soon as Charles stopped speaking. First, and perhaps foremost, he had finished his first cup and was in desperate need of more coffee. There was no way he had expected someone with Charles' reputation to go off on a philosophical tangent about the nature of dreams--much less their role within society or from an evolutionary standpoint. He had been truly caught off guard by that unexpected twist in the conversation.

Second, he was somewhat dumbfounded by how to even begin phrasing a response. This was so far outside the realm of his understanding or expertise he was lost without answers. So he said the first thing that came to mind: "Or, perhaps, they're just a product of our imagination, and there's no real purpose to them at all."

Charles laughed and poured himself a second glass of tea, pausing to refill Robert's proffered coffee cup before leaning back in his chair again. "Yes, that is entirely possible as well."

"If a tree falls in the forest, and no-one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" Robert asked. This was about the extent of what he remembered from his college philosophy classes. "If a dream occurs and no one is around to see it, did it really happen?"

Charles' grin slowly spread across his face before he broke out into a genuine, hearty laugh.  "Yes, Robert, I think you have it now."

Robert was still dumbfounded, but he was doing his best not to let the confusion show on his face. Despite Charles' obvious interest on the topic, Robert was left mildly disinterested and, at best, slightly annoyed. He had learned long before that questions of this nature didn't really appeal to him.

"I suppose I have to admit that I've never really given it much thought," Robert said. "I learned a long time ago that I was better off focusing on problems that could be attacked systematically with a clear line of thought and logic."

"Oh, I have no doubt," Charles said, sipping his tea. "Just remember, many of the things we used to write off and label as magic and superstition or curiosities of a fanciful imagination are now staples within the realm of scientific understanding. Their acceptance is now simply a foregone conclusion: refrigeration, magnetism, combustion--the list goes on. How many thousands of years did our ancestors spend gazing at the stars trying to guess at what secrets they might hold before we developed the telescope? Just because we haven't charted a logical path to the conclusion yet doesn't preclude it from existing."

Robert had to admit that, when he put it like that, Charles had quite the point.

"So what does that mean, then? That one day we will be able to look into someone else's dreams and study them like we do the stars?"

"I tend to try and never rule out any possibility," Charles answered carefully. "But, can you imagine the possibilities if we could? What if we were able to somehow communicate with a coma patient? If we were able to somehow influence someone's thoughts and lead them out of wherever it is their mind retreats to? If we were somehow able to cure people of their fears and anxieties while they were asleep? I cannot even begin to fully imagine or understand the wide range of the applications."

"All that's left then, I suppose, is logically divining a scientific route through a philosophical concept," Robert answered, still skeptical despite his tepid acceptance of what Charles was trying to get at.

"Well, it's not really unlike some of the other problems we've been struggling with providing answers to recently," Charles  broke off a piece of cookie and chewed on it for a moment before continuing. "These problems that keep cropping up within the world of Tiqpa, for example. Scientists have searched for years for the missing evolutionary link between primate and man. Perhaps we just need to discover our own missing link in order to make the connections amongst the strange, unexplainable events that have occurred within the game world."

Robert wasn't surprised by Charles swinging the conversation around to the topic of work. He was actually mildly curious that it had taken this long to be brought up at all. Nonetheless, he still felt the need to be somewhat defensive in answering. Despite having rather enjoyed the conversation, and definitely the wonderful meal, he had to remember that he was still sitting and talking with his boss.

"Believe me, everyone has been desperately searching for that missing link," Robert answered truthfully. "If it's out there, we're going to find it. There are just so many inexplicable occurrences, things happening without any rhyme or reason to them, that it's been hard to get a solid foundation to even start from. If we were able to get even a little toe hold, something to grasp onto or somewhere to start from, we might be able to make progress in finding the answer."

"The tree is falling in the forest, Robert, and you're listening for the sound of the branches snapping instead of looking for the tree."

Robert raised an eyebrow and stared without answering as he tried to puzzle out what in the world Charles might be talking about. Those little warning bells were starting to tinkle in the back of Robert's head again.

"What . . . "

Charles held up a hand indicating for Robert to wait before answering. He leaned forward, setting his cup on the table in front of him, then made a 'come hither' motion with his hand to someone Robert couldn't see behind him.

The walking giant silently appear beside Robert and handed Charles a large manila envelope before silently disappearing. Robert had entirely forgotten about the man. He had disappeared as soon as they had exited onto the patio, and Robert hadn't given him another thought.

Charles carefully slid the envelope across the table to Robert, being careful to avoid the tray of coffee, tea and cookies.

Robert quickly took a large gulp of his coffee as he set his own cup down and picked up the envelope. Those little warning bells were growing louder at a rapid pace.

"You see, Robert," Charles began again as Robert opened the folder and pulled out a thick stack of pages that immediately felt like the heavy gloss of photo paper, "missing links aren't always missing."

Robert stared at the only sheet of paper that adorned the stack of photos. There was far too much written on it for him to take in at a first glance, but what was immediately obvious was the giant red ‘Confidential’ stamp hammered into the middle of the page, directly across the typed words.

The warning bells reached crescendo, filling his brain, as he carefully slid the first page off the top of the stack and laid it on the table. Robert felt his gut sink and the deafening sound inside his head stopped abruptly, leaving behind an even louder silence as he saw the first picture. Kass.

"But . . . What . . ." Robert was unable to form words as he flipped through the photos faster and faster. They were all of Kass. Some looked like they had been taken inside an office, some outside an old home that Robert didn't recognize. Some of them appeared as if they had been taken from inside the game. Although he had never seen Kass's character, the features were similar enough he could easily guess what he was looking at: her fighting mobs, her standing with a strange red-eyed bear, her riding the missing Hydra in battle. Robert quickly began to notice something else that was common in many of the pictures--a strange man with pale, white skin and red eyes that was always with her.

"Why . . . How . . . What is this?" Robert demanded in the full and angry voice of a defensive father.

"Trust me, Robert, it's nothing untoward," Charles immediately responded. He actually managed to somehow sound reassuring as he said it. "What do you notice in all the photos?"

"You mean besides the fact that it looks like you've been spying on my daughter?" Robert demanded. He was not going to be so easily placated.

Charles reached across the table and picked up the last photo Robert had discarded from the stack and held it up so that it was facing Robert. "Who is this?" Charles tapped the strange man that was present in many of the photos.

"What? I don't have any cl . . . " then it hit him. Large man. Pale skin. Red eyes. Robert looked from the picture Charles was holding up to the stack in his hand. Bathrobe. Spoons.

"This is Darwin?" Robert asked.

"So you do know him," Charles charged. The tone of his voice indicated that he had expected the answer.

Robert was busted and he knew it.

"Immediately after the game went public, you had your friend Gary and his team searching the database for instances involving the use of spoons and bathrobes," Charles explained. "You even had him searching through account information and character data for someone named 'Darwin.'  While everyone else has spent all this time hunting for a mysterious 'ghost in the system,' you've known exactly where he was all along."

"No, I . . . We tried to track him down. It's literally impossible. We can't find his character at all."

"Logic, Robert." Charles taunted him with the words. Robert knew where this was going before he had even said anything. "We may not be able to find this mystery man, but your daughter can. I'm willing to bet she knows exactly where he is right this moment even if she's not actually there with him herself. We may not be able to find him," Charles added extra emphasis on the word, "but we know exactly how to find Kass, don't we?"

"What do you plan on doing to my daughter?" Robert asked accusingly. Wild fears and imagined scenarios skated through his brain in rapid succession. Robert would do everything in his power to protect Kass, but against a man with Charles' influence, wealth, and power, he knew it would be worthless.

"Nothing," Charles said, almost assumingly. "We're not going to do anything to her."

Robert had heard Charles use phrasing very similar to that already once today.

"This is why you said we weren't going to do anything earlier when we were at the office," Robert said quietly. "You already knew how to find Darwin through Kass. You've been planning on using her all along."

"Let's just call it asking for her help. I really don't want to use your daughter for anything." Silence hung between them for a moment before Charles finished. "But, let me be clear, Robert: I have great interest in having a chat with this Darwin one way or the other."

Kass:

Kass rushed home to log on. The interview had taken way longer than she had anticipated, and between teasing poor Kerrigan and needing to be shown around by Rainer, she was already going to be late for the docking. In fact, she was going to be around an hour late at the very least. When she got into the game, she burst out of the cabin door only to find that the boat was still populated even though it was pulled up to the dock.

Great, I didn’t miss a thing. Darwin must be on this glass galleon somewhere, she thought, her eyes darting around as she looked for some sign of where he might be. She couldn’t spot him, but she did spot Alex holding up a map and talking to two of the other Demons.

“Alex!” she shouted out to him. “Where’s Darwin?”

He folded up the map neatly in an instant and looked over at her. “Lady Kass,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “I apologize, but we don’t know where he is at this moment.”

“You don’t know where he is?”

“No, it is my fault. He departed into the town by himself without giving notice as soon as we docked. He has been gone for quite some time,” Alex said, gesturing towards the large city past the docks.

Crap, I hope he didn’t go off leveling without me, she thought, ignoring the rest of the Demons moving around on the boat and heading into the town. While she was there, she found her eyes darting around constantly for the flap-fiend, and her ears listening out for any tales of a weirdo in a bathrobe. He was a distinctive enough individual that even being in the area after him often left a trail of talk regarding his appearance and which way he had gone. It took her almost ten minutes until her ears, not her eyes, caught something though.

“Did you hear about that weird, red-eyed Human, the one in the tournament?” she overheard from a group of four random beast-men in the corner.

Red-eyed Human. That has to be Darwin.

“Yeah, I heard he’s gone crazy a few times in the tournament. What’s with his outfit though?”

Why does every conversation about him have to focus on his bathrobe. Isn’t the rest of him strange too?

“I don’t know. He must be trying to copy that guy from the beach fight, the one in the YouTube videos,” the beast-men continued as she walked up to them.

“Excuse me!” she said, “The weird outfit, was it a bathrobe?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was,” a large, seven-foot-tall Simian, the one who she had interrupted, responded.

“Great, but what is this tournament you are talking about?”

“Lady, there isn’t more than the one,” he said, acting annoyed. “It’s the Melee Fighting Championship in East Town Square.”

“Ah, how do we get there?”

“Woman, what do you want from us? Are we supposed to hold your hand and escort you? Buy you nice things? Please. You Human women are so annoying,” the ape-man said, turning to his friends and leaving Kass just staring at his back in shock.

Human women? “What are you in real life? An ape too? How rude!” she yelled at his back as she pursed her face angrily.

“Ah, it’s okay, young one. You don’t need to be angry at those rude youths. I’ll be happy to help you in their place, if you will forgive their manners, as I am headed there myself. May I show you the way?” a giant panda-man that matched the ape-man in size said from behind her as he extended his hand.

“If you’d be so kind, good sir, my name is Kass,” she responded, finding herself caught up in his manners.

“Wonderful,” he said, “My name is Robin. Please, let me kindly be your guide.” The gentle giant of a bear release the handshake and extended an arm to show her the initial direction they’d be walking.

As they walked, he started to tell her more and more about the city’s history, about the great wars that had befallen it and about how each city square had its own unique history. Kass did her best to listen, to absorb his lectures as he gave them. He regaled Kass with the story of how the city had first begun when each of the animal nations, after a long and brutal war to decide which Kingdom was the greatest, had in a gesture of peace sent their greatest artisans to build a city that would always withstand the conflicts that separated the peoples of the land. The charming panda went on to describe how that decree had been tested several times over the following generations as time and time again a rebellion would occur with either the support of a full race like the Feline people, or a specific group within a race like the black rhino people, who acted without the other rhinos. In any case, the battle ground always tended to end up being the streets of the city.

It was all incredibly fascinating, and she normally would have loved to get into the lore of a game that had this thorough a history, but her thoughts were too focused on Darwin. What tournament did he enter? she wondered. Knowing from the panda that it took three people to enter it, and Darwin had departed on his own only an hour or so ago at best, she wondered to herself, Who did he enter it with?

“Young one, you should relax. The semifinals don’t start for a few more minutes, and we will be there well before then. Tardiness is an abomination to manners,” he said.

“I understand. Please continue telling me more about the snake-men’s defense of the city against the mongoose-men.”

“Ah, that was an interesting one. The snake-men, naturally lacking in . . .” he carried on as they walked. Kass couldn’t help but think that if her history teachers had been this interesting, or their voice had been this deep and calm, she probably never would have done poorly on a single test. It was like the panda’s voice could be used to tell the story of a carpet and make it sound fascinating. Morgan-Panda-Freeman, she thought as she chuckled to herself.

As they finally reached the arena, two tiger-based Pantheras came rushing forward and bowed their heads and threw an arm over each chest before talking. “Great King Robin! We’ve prepared a box in the final arena. The seats are all reserved for Your Excellency.”

“Thank you, you are too kind and thorough in your considerations,” he said, also bowing his head for a moment. “Young one, would you like to join me in the booth? I don’t think you’ll be able to join your friend until after the tournament anyways.”

“Ah, well,” Kass looked around for a minute. She saw four dirt arenas surrounding one giant one in the middle. The center pit had rows of seats ten or twenty stacks high on three of its sides. On the one free side, it had only a raised booth, maybe two stories high, with a few cushioned chairs overlooking the arena. She couldn’t see Darwin anywhere, and after a moment’s attempt to spot him, she gave up. “It’d be my honor,” she said, still finding herself speaking with better manners than she would normally.

“That is wonderful. Your company will be appreciated,” he said. Then, turning to one of the guards, he ordered, “Han Lou, could you kindly make sure there is an extra chair for our guest?”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” the guard said, darting off.

“You’re a King?” she had to ask.

“Oh, sometimes I get called that. More than a King, I’m just an old man who has many friends that look after him.” The more he spoke, the more Kass found herself respecting him. Then it dawned on Kass: he was a King, and not only was he a King, but he was an NPC. She hadn’t noticed at first, but the color-coding on his name was clear as day. An NPC King had gone out of his way to help her out as if he were just a regular old man, and the conversation had been so real that she hadn’t even noticed once that he was an NPC.

“Ah, well, I can tell that these friends of yours must care about you deeply,” she said as she watched the concerned guards scramble to get her chair ready as the two of them ascended the stairs into the booth.

“They do indeed, but they never let themselves forget my position. It is sometimes tiring for an old man like myself,” he sighed. “Now, which one of these young men is yours again?”

“Oh, um . . .” the thought of Darwin being her man didn’t make her blush for once as she looked for him, “I still don’t see him.”

“Ah, that is good news, young one,” he nodded to himself, “it means he must have made it to the semifinals. In that case, they should be coming in soon.”

While they waited, the old king continued filling Kass in about the history of the town. The one thing that she started to pick up from the entire history lesson, something she hadn’t noticed before, was that either the programmers or some odd twist of fate obviously liked to play on natural predators being defeated in rebellions or attacks by their typical prey. The Vermin race had overwhelmed the Feline people when the Vermin people rebelled over a cheese tax. If there had been gazelle people or giraffe people, she was almost certain that they would have defeated the lions and tigers of the Pantheras in some rebellion. She also started to notice that while a lot of different species were represented, the Feline people accounted for the largest number of them. Almost every other player was some form or another of the Feline Race.

When Darwin walked out flanked by two lynx people, she wasn’t at all surprised. Of course they are cat people, was her first thought, and her second thought was: a bathrobe wasn’t strange enough? That guy had to wear a tank top to a competition? “Is that him, the one in the bathrobe?” the pleasant King Robin said, venturing a guess as to who was Kass’ friend.

“Yes, it is. How did you guess?”

“Well, I could tease you and say it’s because of the way you were staring, but it’s really just that you and he are the only ones here who aren’t from any of the beast Kingdoms,” Robin chuckled.

“Oh, yeah. I suppose that is a give away, isn’t it?”

“You could say that. It looks like his group is up first too,” the Panda King noted, “Perhaps we are in for a show?”

“It’s very likely,” Kass reassured him. “Darwin is a great fighter.”

“Excellent, then he should have no problem entertaining us today. Let’s relax and rest easy and have faith in your man.”

Kass knew Darwin would win--he had a way with a sword that she had never seen before--but she still was nervous. She didn’t know how the others would do. She leaned forward and watched as her Bathrobe Knight took the center stage with Mr. Tank Top and their Furry Kimono Kitty. The three of them were squaring off against Canines dressed in old-fashioned samurai armor. Mr. Tank-Top and Darwin flanked the Kimono Kitty, leaving her a bit farther behind them too. When the announcer finally called for the fight to start, Darwin dashed at his opponent in the usual mad battle charge she had become accustomed to watching, whereas the Kimono Kitty girl stayed where she was, and Mr. Tank Top merely walked very slowly straight towards his opponent with his hand on his katana. As Darwin danced, parrying, slashing and tearing at the opponent's arms in a mad blur until an opening presented itself and let him sink his blade into the dog-like creature’s chest, the Kimono Kitty started throwing little metal objects Kass couldn’t make out. The most interesting part though was when Mr. Tank Top reached his opponent. The enemy held up his sword and tried to swing it into Mr. Tank Top, but the guy merely moved his hand quickly, flashing a shiny reflective light across the dirt stadium, and then the samurai dog-man fell apart in two clean halves as Mr. Tank Top wiped off his blade.

Kimono Kitty, the only one with an opponent still, kept throwing whatever it was she was throwing as she finally started running toward her foe, but before she could reach the last dog standing, Darwin came barreling into the enemy’s flank and cut him through, splitting him open on the spot. At this point, it seemed like the fight was forgotten as the Kimono Kitty started fussing at Darwin over something until Mr. Tank Top patted her head. What in the world did I just watch? Kass found herself mouthing. It’s true she expected that type of speed and ferocity from Darwin, but the way Mr. Tank Top ripped his opponent open as if he was taking a simple stroll through the park was a bit terrifying.

“That is a talented pair of men,” the Panda King said, scratching his beard. “I am not sure which I like more.”

“I think I’m biased; I don’t know the other one,” Kass said.

“Hmm, perhaps our meeting is very fortuitous then.” The Panda King pulled at the tuft of hair on his chin again. “If they indeed win the championship, as I suspect they will, then perhaps there is a very important task the young men could help me with.”

“Would you like me to introduce you to them afterwards?” Kass offered, understanding the King’s polite unsaid request.

“That would be very kind of you.”

“No problem. You’ve been a great deal of help. It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, as long as I’m not troubling you.”

“Not at all.”

“So, do you have a favorite in this race?” the Panda King asked as three Ursine warriors wielding giant two-handed axes stepped into the ring to fight against three Feline ninjas clad from neck to toe in a black ninja garb.

“I must admit, I might find myself pulling for the bears. The ones I’ve met so far are rather kind,” Kass mused.

“Ah, I think we would normally be of like mind, but it is hard for an old man like myself to say that here. Two beautiful women fighting against three of my own race, I’m not sure who to root for, so I’ll do the Kingly thing and remain impartial,” he joked with a slow, deep, hearty laugh that fit his size.

“Well, then I shall root for your kind in your place, Robin,” she said when his laugh finally died down.

“Very good,” he nodded.

The fight wasn’t nearly as one-sided as the one before. The ninja cats pulled the bears in three directions. When they were separated enough, they would all three, with blinding speed, rush to stab the bear furthest from its allies. It was a crude and casual strategy, but it took good advantage of the slow, lumbering nature of the bears. The way the Ursines fought though, even when they were severely outnumbered, made it clear that if they hadn’t separated to chase the Ninjas in a man-on-man fashion, the fight would clearly have gone in their favor. One by one though, the ninjas defeated all three of the big bears in what still turned out to be a rather close fight. Then, two female Felines held up peace signs, lifted their legs and loudly proclaimed “Nya!”

“Hmm. This is the lesson of the bundle of twigs. Easily snapped one at a time, impossible to even bend all at once,” the King said. “Ah, it is sad to see the bears lose a battle of strength.”

“But at least the two pretty girls you were rooting for won, right?”

“Yes, yes, at least that, and now it should be easier for your Darwin to win. He doesn’t seem as dense as the bears were.”

“You’ve never talked to him,” Kass laughed.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. Is he often slow of thought?”

“Especially when it comes to women.”

“I see. I see,” he said, stroking the fur on his chin again. Then he paused, “Ah, the show is about to start. Let’s watch and afterwards I’d love to hear more.”

The ninjas took the field, and, before the fight even started they were splitting up, putting as much distance between them as they could. As they split up, Darwin and his two comrades pulled closer together as if anticipating their strategy. Then, one of the Feline female ninjas started talking to the Kimono Kitty. Kass couldn’t hear what the girl was saying, but she could tell it was angering Darwin. She hadn’t really seen Darwin mad before. She had seen him determined, near death struggling against insane odds, murdering people, dealing with all sorts of stress, but she hadn’t seen him plain mad. She hadn’t seen the look he had on his face as he stared at the girl who kept saying this and that to the Kimono Kitty. Then, as the timer counted down from three, the ninja girl backed up while laughing. What in the world could she say to make Darwin angry like that?

Then, when zero struck, the two ninjas on the extreme sides started throwing what Kass could only assume were ninja stars. They have to be ninja stars, right? What else would Ninjas throw? This time, Mr. Tank Top just stood still. Every time a star came near him, he deflected it with his sword, but he didn’t move. He said something to Darwin, who then bolted in the direction of the first shuriken user. The girl, the one who wasn’t throwing anything, started to move towards Kimono Kitty, but Mr. Tank Top walked between them. It happened a few times and started to look like a game of “protect Kimono Kitty” from the evil ninja kitty girl.

Meanwhile, Darwin chased after the male ninja star tosser with alarming success. Even though the Ninja tried to run, Darwin was clearly faster. As the Ninja turned and decided to throw caution to the wind and just sprint in the direction opposite Darwin, Darwin pulled out his Burriza’s Blade and threw it right into the ninja’s leg, transfixing him to the ground. He then finished closing the distance in an instant and took the ninja’s head off with one clean cut from his remaining sword while pulling the other sword out of the ninja’s leg with his empty hand.

At this point, Darwin shifted and went in for a rear attack on the cat-girl who had angered him earlier while Kimono Kitty, having seen the now dead opponent, went after the other enemy. When the engagement between Darwin and the other ninja girl picked up, Mr. Tank Top started walking towards the remaining ninja star tosser. That ninja was so busy trying to out-maneuver the Kimono Kitty that she didn’t even notice Mr. Tank Top until the bright reflection of his moving katana shone through the audience to let them know the cat-girl was dead. Then he stopped, mid-fight, to pat the Kimono Kitty on the head and say something reassuring to her as they both approached Darwin and his opponent.

Kass, having been caught up watching the surprise attack by the tank top guy, didn’t see Darwin’s battle at all. While the other two had picked off the second member, Darwin had disarmed the female Feline by chopping off her hands at some point. Mr. Tank Top, upon seeing it, stopped walking towards him. There were no words exchanged as Kimono Kitty and Mr. Tank Top watched Darwin further mutilate the female ninja warrior by cutting off her legs. When the handless, legless remaining mass of cat ninja hit the ground, lacking anything to support her, he walked over, stepped on her back, and then plunged both his blades right through her skull. Kass couldn’t make out what expressions were being exchanged, but she could see that even if Mr. Tank Top’s face stayed as stern as always, the Kimono Kitty was covering her face in horror. That wasn’t surprising: Kass found she was doing the same.

Is . . . Is that what Darwin is like when he is angry? Is that what he is capable of? Kass mouthed, unable to take her eyes off the sliced-up body.

“He is indeed an interesting man, young one,” The panda, not at all horrified or showing any disgust at the display, leaned forward, smiling. “Very interesting indeed.”

Even though the Panda King had been very kind to her so far and clearly had displayed a great deal of humility and care for others despite his wealth and position, the way he complimented Darwin at that moment sent shivers down Kass’s spine. That was brutal, unnecessarily wicked. That was not something that a kind man should have found interesting, she worried momentarily.

“If you say so, Robin, but I found that a little bothersome,” she admitted, still not taking her eyes off the two men in the middle of the arena who stood staring at each other like they were stuck in a cheesy western.

“Young miss, I only mean his abilities. The cruelty I could have done without as well,” he said, easing Kass’s flaring instincts. “But, when it comes to a King trying to protect his people, beggars can’t be choosers. I still require someone of his talents to help me with a very important task. I am confident that you will act as a sheath for his temper, and calm him so that he does not repeat such barbaric acts in my name.”

“As you say,” she nodded. The two men, Darwin and Mr. Tank Top, started approaching each other after a few minutes more of the Mexican standoff. Kass almost half expected Mr. Tank Top to try to chop him in half the same way he had done the last two enemies he casually walked up to, but when they reached each other, it was entirely different. They, at the same time, reached out and grasped each other’s arms in an old Nordic-looking handshake as they brought their free hands around for a quick handshake-plus-bro-hug. They then nodded at one another and walked towards the arena’s exit, talking again where Kass couldn’t hear. Her heart was still pounding though, half from the tense situation that felt like it would end in bloodshed and half from the feeling she got as she watched him dismember the woman.

“Young miss, I think it’s time we go congratulate the winners over a cup of tea. I’m sure with how much running around you’ve been doing, you must also be thirsty,” the King said as he stood up.

“Yes, I am very thirsty. Thank you for your consideration,” she said, standing up too.

“Good, and I’d love to be introduced to this very intriguing young man of yours. What did you say his name was again?”

“His name? Oh, it’s Darwin,” she said, stopping herself for a moment from adding in the usual titles that NPCs called him. It wasn’t that she thought of Darwin as anything but Darwin; it was just that she didn’t want to make waves with Alex when introducing him to other NPCs.

“Alright, well, let’s get moving. We can’t have them waiting on their prize forever,” he said as they slowly descended the stairs.

“Great King Robin!” the two tiger-men guards from earlier said, appearing on either side of him as soon as his feet hit solid ground. “Would you kindly allow us to escort you to the winner’s circle?”

“There’s no need for that young ones,” he said, waving them off with his hand in an odd fashion that made Kass actually think he was summoning them closer. “It would give the winners the wrong impression to be greeted with skepticism first, rewards second.”

“But Great King Robin!” they protested. “Did you see how dangerous and cruel they are? If our presence sends the wrong message, we will take the blame. We only worry for your sake!”

“There is no need. I have a beautiful escort to help this old man avoid conflict. Relax and go return to your posts. If you must follow, it may bring some small shame on my position. Please don’t cause this old man to appear mistrustful,” he said, waving them off again.

This time, they just bowed and said, “Yes, Master!” and left.

“Are they always that excited when following your orders?”

“Mm, it depends on the order. This time, as much as they would have guarded me, they both probably already bought a cask of sake and were looking forward to being dismissed so they could drink it.”

“That seems rather irresponsible of a guard,” she noted, thinking about how that could actually lead to a serious problem.

“Ah, but I was worse than they at that age. I was sneaking away with the princess, so let’s not judge them,” he smiled.

Qasin:

Qasin’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Eve, who was still adjusting her black dress. She had saved the town, and no-one else in the peasant’s group had died because of her. She had done it so quickly and smoothly, in fact, that no-one had even sustained any additional injuries after she had cast her spell; but, for some reason, it irked Qasin. It didn’t just irk him a bit either. It annoyed him worse than being stuck behind a group of slow-walking people in a narrow hallway who insisted on talking so loud he could have heard them two rooms over. The problem was that there wasn’t a reason it should have annoyed him. Sure, she had been snappy when insisting that they leave immediately to continue their hunt, but she had turned the ship for him and completed his goal of saving the people. She had done what he wanted, to the letter, and now he was annoyed. Why?

He didn’t get long to contemplate it though. The sword, it itched again. It itched worse than before the fight started. It was the same sensation he got when he skipped lunch but insisted on sneaking a sweet anyways. He wouldn’t notice he was hungry, the work would keep him occupied, but the second the sweet chocolate or snack touched his tongue, his stomach would wake up and growl with a fury. He would find himself starving where just a moment ago he hadn’t even known he was hungry. That’s why he was annoyed. That’s why the sword itched. He had been enjoying himself, and like a mother who stepped on the toy of a child and took away the whole set, Eve had intervened, and he now found himself without his playthings--without his enemies to kill. Is this who I am? he thought, looking down at his hand resting firmly on the grip of his blade.

“Thank you!” a voice pierced his contemplations. “Thank you so much. Without you two, we’d all be dead. Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

“Oh, um . . . Actually . . .” Qasin paused and looked at Eve. She would probably want a ship so that the two could continue their chase, but given what had been done to their harbor it was unlikely they had one to spare. “Is this going to be enough?” he finally voiced. Trying not to outright ask if there was anything left for him to kill. “Are you guys going to be safe now?”

“Safe? From them? Yeah. From my wife? Not once she sees what our savior did to my fishing boat, ha ha ha. I won’t be killed, but I sure as heck won’t be safe!” one of the peasants laughed inappropriately. “Maybe the kind couple would let me flee with you two?”

“I think your wife will be far less ugly than the monsters we are sure to encounter,” Eve said this time, answering for the Qasin, who wasn’t prepared for the fisherman’s response.

“Stevens, come on now. Don’t worry about your wife at a time like this, we have to thank our heroes!” the leader of the guards that were holding off the pirates said, patting the worried husband on the back as he walked closer to Qasin and Eve. “Now heroes, my name is Jason. I’m the Captain of the town.”

Captain of the town? Not just the guards? Qasin puzzled as he reached out his hand to shake Jason’s. “Qasin. I’m . . .” do I introduce myself as a King, or a regular person? I’ve left the Kingdom in someone else’s hands, albeit someone who is supposedly trustworthy, but still not me. I’m still no longer the one responsible for the welfare of my people.

“He’s the King of the Human faction, ruler of the White-Horns and Black-Horns,” Eve picked up his introduction for him, “and I’m Eve. A pleasure to meet you.”

“A King, ey? I didn’t realize a small town like this warranted a King’s saving, but I’m glad you came,” Jason said, scratching his head, “It is surprising though. I mean, truth be told, even though we’ve been sending messengers out to the Panda King for years, he’s never sent anyone. I sure as heck didn’t expect him to contract another King.”

“Well, the answer to that is easy, my dear,” Eve said, “It’s because we weren’t sent by him or anyone. We just saw your plight from afar on our way to the White-Walled City. A city we must desperately get to.”

“Ugh, makes sense. I knew that tyra-- . . . I mean, I knew the Panda King wouldn’t get around to sending anyone to save a couple of Humans. If we were bears? Sure. He might even have sent someone if our tributes were larger, but not for poor, false monkeys like us,” Jason almost spit. The contempt was palpable as his voice quivered. Qasin was sure that if Eve weren’t there, the whole statement would have been riddled with profanities too. “Anyways, enough of that. How can we repay you? Anything you can name, it’s yours.”

“A boat?” Qasin suggested. He knew the situation with the harbor, but he also knew that they might have one out at sea, one that they might talk the owner into selling rather cheap.

“Yes, or lacking that, a pair of good horses,” Eve suggested. “Preferably one with a saddle that is friendly for a lady to ride.”

“Hmmmmm . . .” Jason scratched his head again. “Stevens, you fish the same waters as that town up the coast to the east, right?”

“Yeah, reckon I do. They have a lot better alcohol than old, cranky, blah blah what’s-his-name makes. You ever had their beer? It makes Tubs’ beer taste like piss and water,” Stevens said, laughing as the nearby Tubs’ face turned red. “Oh, don’t be get mad, Tubs. You’ll end up looking like a red, pickled, pepper-popped acne.”

“You think they have a boat for sale?”

“I bet they do. That weird squirrel fisher is too busy chasing nuts to ever hit the seas with me,” Stevens said, still laughing at the red-faced ‘Tubs.’ “I reckon he should easily part with his pretty princess boat for a little coin.”

“How far away is the town?” Eve asked

“Missy, with one of those little magic, whirly-twirly, doodad spells, does it even matter?” Stevens asked.

“It’s forty miles, maybe fifty from here. You’ll find the road pretty easy to follow. We only have two leaving the town and it’s the one heading east,” the man called Tubs spoke up, his color returning to normal..

“Forty miles is a dang long walk,” Jason muttered. “Tubs, I mean, Frank, get a pair of horses for these two. That’ll cut the journey down to half a day if they ride hard. Oh, and get them some supplies for the road. No skimping either, you cheap bugger.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it. You better pay me back old man, savior or not. I’ll be dead without new horses for the route,” Frank said, lifting his fat belly and walking off.

“Well, there. That’s the best we can do. We would normally be able to send you off with money to buy the horses, but . . .”

“The Panda King?” Qasin finished his thought.

“Yeah, the Panda King. We sent him another tribute hoping he’d save us from the pirates. We didn’t have enough for the pirates to be satisfied with the looting the last time they came through . . . so we knew this time it’d be a fight to the death.”

“What happens if you don’t send him a tribute? Is he worse than the pirates?” Qasin wondered.

“That’s putting it mildly. One of the Human towns west of us didn’t have enough fish to make a tribute for a year, and well . . . there ain’t even ashes left,” Jason said. As he talked, everyone but him and Stevens slowly dispersed. They were either injured, helping someone injured, or just cleaning up debris around the town. The spell had been cast, the excitement was over, and they had things to do.

“I can see the reason for your ire. Perhaps we could make a detour . . .” Qasin said, feeling his sword itch again.

“No, no, you don’t need to make a detour,” Eve said sternly.

“What do you mean? Our people, good Humans, are being butchered and ignored . . .”

“I mean you don’t have to make a detour. Where do you think Darwin is as we speak?”

“Oh. Well, you were right then. We probably need to start moving quickly in that case. We don’t want him to leave the place before we get there.”

“Qasin,” Eve said, leaning in very close to his ear.

“Yes?”

“There won’t be anyone to kill when we get there,” she whispered, her icy tone bringing back Qasin’s earlier irritation.

“That’s not why I wish to go. I merely want to make sure we find your brother and make sure that these people are treated better.” Qasin felt pierced from her words. She was dead on the money.

“If you say so, but until then, you need to keep that sword in check,” Eve whispered back as Frank approached with two horses in tow, both loaded to the brim with saddlebags of supplies. “We’re not on an adventure to wet your blade; we’re on an adventure to save the world.”

“Here you go, you two,” Frank said, handing the reins to Qasin. “If you end up taking a boat and not using the horses, make sure to get the town to send them back. Horses aren’t easy to come by in these lands. Them animal people don’t take too kindly to domesticating a beast.”

“We will, and thanks for the help.” Qasin took the reins, handed one pair to Eve and then hopped on the nearest mount.

“Nah, thank you,” Jason said, “We won’t forget this. You said you were the King of the Humans?”

“I am,” Qasin admitted.

“Well, maybe . . .” Jason seemed to want to say something important. “No, forget it. Have a safe journey, and I hope you reach your destination in time.”

Chapter 4:  Cheat Codes Over Reset Buttons

Darwin:

“She was all, ‘Nya nya,’ and you were all stab stab, and then it was all KASPLAT!” Minx said excitedly, acting out every detail as Kitchens sipped his tea and Darwin ate his third chocolate chip cookie from the rather large pile the kind woman in a white dress had managed to fetch for him upon request. “That was great, mister! You really were cool!”

“I wasn’t scary?” Darwin asked, remembering her first reaction to his Hunger flashing during the fight.

“Scary? Like scary rawr rawr?” She adopted her T-rex pose again. “Yeah, mister is really scary. But Minx knows mister wouldn’t hurt Minx, so Minx the Lynx won’t question the Sphynx.”

“The Sphynx?”

“Don’t question me, Sphynx, I’m too young to die,” she said, sticking out her tongue as she did so. Darwin wasn’t sure if this is just how she always was, or if this was just how she was after eating sugar in a VRMMO. Wait, would eating sugar in a VRMMO have any actual impact? How would you get a sugar rush from a video game?

“How old are you exactly?” Darwin asked, still curious about the figure. She was short enough to be a kid, but certain features of hers were very much those of a woman. Given it was a video game, it wasn’t unheard of for someone to embellish, but what motivation would a child have to pad the front of her resume in such a fashion?

“Don’t be a rude, rude dude! Ask a woman her age? Not cool.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.

When Darwin looked at over at Kitchens, he just shrugged, sipped his tea, and changed the subject. “Thank you for the tournament and what you did for Minx.”

“It’s no problem. I’ve been where Minx was. It only felt right to help,” Darwin said before stuffing his face with another cookie. Mmmm, cookies.

“Psh, I did good good, didn’t I, Kitchens?” She said, unfolding her arms and looking at the guy in the tank top. “I told you he was a good swordsman. You wanted water, I got you water! Enough to fill a hundred cups.”

Kitchens looked like he wanted to correct her about the water part again, but instead just patted her head. “Yes, you did, Minx. Yes, you did.”

“So, why are we waiting? Let’s go go! Let’s conquer the world. Or maybe a dungeon . . . or an entire country! I’ll be all stab stab and Darwin will be all chop chop, and you can be all slice slice.” She had given up sitting down and was standing on top of the stone bench circling the table acting out her impression of how each one of them fought. “Come on! Let’s go! We’ll get tea later.”

“I believe he was waiting on me, young one. My apologies for taking so long. The old bones don’t move as fast as they used to,” a panda wearing a loose black robe with white trimming and a large, ornate, golden sash said as he approached with Kass next to him.

“Kass!” Darwin exclaimed. “You’re here!”

“Yeah, I am,” she said with a look he couldn’t make out. “And I see you couldn’t even wait a few minutes for me before you left.”

“Well . . . actually, I . . .” Darwin was trying to search for an excuse when Minx popped up and helped him out.

“Sorry, old lady! It was my bad!” she said, causing Kass to visibly redden at the ‘old lady’ comment. “I stole him away ‘cause we needed a third fighter! My bad bad! Sorrrrrryyyyy.”

“There’s no need to say you’re sorry, young one,” the panda reassured Minx. “He, as well as the both of you, performed magnificently, and we have you to thank for that.”

“Right right! I did good!” Minx’s ear-to-ear, full-toothed smile shined again.

“Ah, introductions if you don’t mind, young one,” the panda asked Kass.

“Oh, right. This is the Great King Robin, ruler of the city,” she said, first gesturing to Robin, and then gesturing towards Darwin and the two friends of his who had now finished standing up, “Robin, this is my friend, Darwin, and his friends . . .”

“I’m Kitchens. This is Minx,” Kitchen said as he bowed his head while pushing Minx’s head down into a bow too.

“Hahaha!” The Panda King bellowed out a laugh. “Bowing? For an old man like me? Nonsense. Stand up straight, young ones. We have no need of formalities here. You are winners, and I come humbly bearing gifts, not demanding respect.”

“Gifts? Presents? Like it’s Christmas? Oh! Oh! Do they come with bows and in fancy packages?” Minx popped up from her bow like she was loaded with springs.

“Nothing that fancy, nothing that could truly recompense you for the performance you treated us to. All we have here are a few Gold and three tokens to the royal armory,” the panda said, motioning to the girl who had been supplying Darwin with tea and cookies. “Dear, please be so kind as to award each of them their due.”

“Tokens for the royal armory?” Minx asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Ah, you didn’t know what you were fighting for, young one? The royal armory has the finest weapons and armors in all of the land to award to the most outstanding and exceptional warriors,” the King explained. “Unfortunately, it’s hard to say at any tournament what the preference for weapon or gear is going to be, so we bring tokens that you can exchange for any piece on display at the armory.”

“Wow, that’s actually very neat,” Darwin said, looking at the golden token with two swords crossed over a shield on one side and a halberd in front of a helmet on the other. “Thank you very much, Robin. I’ll be sure to use it wisely,” he said, putting the token in his inventory.

“That is good to hear,” the King smiled, “but perhaps before you use it, the three of you wouldn’t mind taking a moment to listen to the request of an old man?”

“Ooo! It’s a quest! A unique one, straight from the King! Kitchens, Kitchens, can we do it? Please please, Kitchens?” Minx pulled at Kitchens’ tank top. “Let’s do it.”

“Let’s listen first, Minx. Then we can decide. Don’t be too eager,” Kitchens said, returning his hand to its usual perch.

“Okay okay, sorry sorry, Mr. King, sir.”

“You needn’t apologize so much, young one,” the King said, “It’s I who am asking you a favor. A very important favor too,” he said, bending over till he was at face height with Minx. “A favor that only you can help me with.”

“Hmmm,” was Kitchens’ only response. Kitchens’ face didn’t move, but Darwin could sense his feelings on the subject.

I understand you perfectly, Kitchens: a man who talks with compliments first and insists about being humble when in public  . . . He looked to see what Kass’s expression was, but she seemed to not notice the look on his or Kitchens’ face. Either to her nothing was out of the ordinary in the way the King spoke, or her poker face was peerless.

“You see,” the King dove right into his request, motioning them to sit back down as he walked over and took a seat too, “we’ve been struggling to handle a bandit situation. It’s been several years since they began their attack on our territories, and we’ve found ourselves rather helpless to handle the problem.”

“Bandits?” Darwin asked.

“Bandits, pirates, thieves, you can call them what you want,” the King said, taking a cup of tea from the attendant as he finished sitting down. “No matter what they are called though, they have been preying on our people for almost a decade now.”

“A decade?” Darwin found the amount of time striking. “That is indeed a long time to have a problem.”

“Indeed, young one, indeed. Unfortunately, they have learned well that just as there is strength in numbers, there is also strength in a lack of numbers,” the King said, sipping his tea just like Kitchens. “If we mobilize against them, they scatter. If we try to send only a few men, they fortify.”

Kitchens nodded. “A grain of sand will scatter on the wind before the coming storm.”

“Indeed, young one, and that is the base of our problem,” the King said. “In order to catch them, we must use a force that will crush them before they scatter.”

“So you held a tournament looking for the greatest fighters,” Darwin finished the King’s thought. “You only allowed groups of three in because that size is small enough to travel unnoticed?”

“You are both very bright,” the King said with a grin. “I see I am leaving this task in very capable hands.”

“My deepest apologies, Your Excellency,” Kitchens said, “but I am not sure it is in our best interest to accept your request.”

“What? Kitchens! They need our help! Can we? Can we? Come on! There are bad guys who need a good stabby stabby,” Minx shouted in protest at Kitchens’ denial.

Darwin wanted to protest the decision as soon as he saw Minx’s face in order to assure Minx that there was no reason for them to not take the cause up, but he wasn’t in charge of the group this time, and his instincts told him that Kitchens’ rejection was the right decision.

“Oh, don’t be so hasty to refuse, young one. I’m willing to say that we can double, even triple, the tournament’s winnings if you’ll just say yes,” the King pushed again. “Please don’t make this humble old man beg further, but I will if I must.”

“I’ll go,” Kass said. “I don’t speak for Darwin, but if it’s to stop people from getting hurt, I’ll gladly go.”

Darwin wanted to facepalm. She didn’t understand at all why Kitchens had refused. These so-called bandits obviously didn’t just take from the people: they fed off the people. In order for them to exist in the form the King was describing, they had to have a sponsor. A small group of fighters capable of evading the grasp of a large empire has to be able to move through people like a worm through the earth, leaning on them for support and feeding off their energy. There was a good chance that this was less a group of bandits and more a group of guerilla fighters. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be any explanation for why they hadn't been stamped out already after a decade.

“Well, if big sis is going, then I’m going with her! Okay, big sis?” Minx said stubbornly, still upset that Kitchens had turned down her ‘unique quest.’ “We can beat them up together! You can beat people up, right?”

“It looks like I will have to reconsider my choice, King Robin. I suppose I will be going after all,” Kitchens said, looking at the dregs in his cup of tea with a frown.

“That is good news! And what of you, young swordsman?” the Panda King said, slapping his belly as he cheered, “Will you also join our three brave souls in their quest?”

Darwin, like Kitchens, couldn’t help but frown as he agreed. “I suppose I will join them as well.”

“Then, since you are all agreed, let me show you the root of the problem.” The King waved over the attendant again. This time, instead of tea or cookies, she brought a large, rolled-up scroll. She didn’t hand it to the King, but laid it out on the stone table instead, placing tiny, black pebbles on all four corners of the tan map to hold it in place. “This, my young adventurers, is where our city is.” The King took a red pebble out of the sleeves of one of his robes and placed it on a picture that was a strikingly well done representation of the giant city they were in, except it had a snake-like dragon drawn above it. “And this,” he said, placing a white pebble on a fogged-out section of the mountain, “is where our problem begins.”

“Is the problem still there?” Kitchens asked.

“That is the case for now, but we are worried that if they sense us moving, they will switch locations again.”

“I see,” Darwin nodded. “So it may turn out to be a scavenger hunt as much as a kill quest?”

“You could say that; but, if you act fast, there shouldn’t be a problem. This is a rather new base for them, only a few days old, and they don’t often switch hideouts more than once every other month. We timed the tournament based on our findings concerning their move.”

“Are there any compliant villages nearby?” Kitchens asked.

“Ah, you are an intuitive one. Yes, these villages,” the King said, placing two more white pebbles on the map over towns next to the base, “have both been known to aid them. We don’t believe it is anything more than food and supplies in exchange for a portion of their lootings, but if you are to attack them . . .” The panda gave a slight shrug as if to say that casualties could not be helped.

He concealed information until we pried. What questions have we not asked correctly? Darwin thought, finding himself growing more and more suspicious of the panda. It may have been unwarranted to some degree--the panda may genuinely have been a good man concerned about his people--but the honey from his words hung so sweet in comparison to what he was used to hearing from strangers that it made him not trust the message he was expected to swallow. Kass, what did you get us into, he complained to himself, exchanging a frown with Kitchens.

“We should have asked him more questions. For some reason, I feel that we are missing key pieces of information,” Darwin said, standing up first. The questions may have revealed more important information about the task, but it was unlikely that any further information the panda gave wouldn’t be just as misleading as it was helpful.

“Indeed,” Kitchens said, standing up as well, Kass following suit. “Kass, was it? Please accept the party invite so we can depart immediately.”

“Wait wait! What about the armory? I want new daggers first! Let’s go shopping first! I bet they have super cute boots there!” Minx said as she stood up.

“We’ll have time to check out the armory on the way back. We don’t want to worry the kind King by taking too long, do we?”

“No. No no, ‘kay ‘kay, let’s go go,” Minx said, practically jumping in place. “A super secret, special quest! With new friends!”

While he thought no-one was looking, Darwin grabbed the remaining cookies and put them in his inventory. The King, having spotted him and then catching him with direct eye contact, raised a finger to his mouth as if to say, ‘I won’t tell if you don’t,’ while Darwin finished stashing away the chocolate chip delights. Even if it felt like the old man was trying to pull one over on him, he just couldn’t help but kind of like the guy.

“Yeah, let’s get a move on,” Kass also nodded. “I’m ready when you guys are.”

“We might as well. I’m not sure how much time we have left after all,” Darwin thought aloud, considering how if they stayed away from the village too long, it might be hard for the Scouts to find him; but, for some reason, he was confident that Alex’s team would never have a problem tracking him down.

“Are you as concerned as I am?” Kitchens asked Darwin quietly as soon as they were out of earshot of the King.

“Yeah. I have a feeling they aren’t bandits,” Darwin said, nodding and keeping the conversation between them hushed as the two girls in front of them giggled and laughed back and forth like they were actually sisters.

“Mhmm. Should we tell them?” Kitchens asked, nodding towards the ladies.

“No. I think saying anything now might just cause unnecessary problems,” Darwin weighed in.

“And if it is as we fear?” Kitchens pressed the matter.

“I won’t be a butcher--not for small change and trinkets,” Darwin stated with no uncertainty in his voice. This was not a matter he would budge on.

“Even if it’s just NPCs?” Kitchens continued to play the devil’s advocate.

“Do you honestly think they are just NPCs?” Darwin certainly didn’t.

“Point. NPCs or not, it wouldn’t feel right,” Kitchens agreed while both of them watched what appeared to be Kass and Minx playing an impromptu game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

“Yeah. They’re more lifelike than people as you can see by that mischievous King,” Darwin said.

“We don’t know if he’s mischievous yet. He could still be an honest leader.”

“You think so?” Darwin asked, chuckling a bit as Minx’s face went red and her hand gestures insinuated that Kass must have cheated to win.

“No, but I’ll hold my reservations for now.”

“Fair enough. So are we just going to go al . . .” Darwin stopped. His concern about the StormGuard Alliance came back in the form of scouts. He had to just stop and stare as Daniel, Mclean and Valerie swooped down and landed a few feet away to greet them.

“Greetings, Great Lord Darwin,” Valerie said, bowing. “We were on our way to return to the boat when we saw you, so we thought we would report directly to you first.”

Darwin did his best not to grin as he looked at Daniel. You still haven’t told her yet? he tried to say to him with his expression. “That’s great news, Valerie, and good timing. Kass and I are about to take care of a small bandit issue in the area, and time is of the essence. So, do you mind taking your report to Alex with an extra message from me?”

Valerie lifted her head and nodded, “Of course, Great Lord Darwin. We’d be happy to pass along an additional message.”

“We can even join you after the message is delivered if you like. Will you need assistance with the task?” Daniel asked.

“You’re welcome to, but I don’t think we will. Unless Alex has something for you that you feel up to, I suggest you three have fun and explore the town,” Darwin responded.

“Thanks, Chief,” Daniel said, eliciting a slap on the shoulder from Valerie. “I mean, thanks, Great Lord Darwin,” he corrected himself after the slap, trying as hard as Darwin and Kass not to crack up.

“Great. I need you to tell him where we’ll be when he’s got everything done or if he needs us,” Darwin said, signaling for Kitchens to pull out the map he had taken from the table earlier. “We’re going to be somewhere between here and this town. We may have to search around this area, but it shouldn’t be hard to find us.”

“I don’t think it’s ever hard to spot you in a crowd,” Daniel added, this time dodging the shoulder slap from Valerie for not adding in a proper title.

“Great,” Darwin said, wanting to ask more about the spot they found. but deciding that it would hold them up too much. “I better hear that you guys enjoyed yourself in the town.”

“Got it, Boss,” Daniel said, taking off first. The other two quickly followed his lead.

When they finally flew off, Minx and Kitchens both stared at Darwin.

“Ummm . . .” Minx twisted her head both ways as if she were trying to see the image inside a Magic Eye 3D picture. “Why did they call you ‘Great Lord Darwin’? Do you have a church?”

“I do believe something of an explanation is owed,” Kitchens said, “but if you don’t feel the need, we can continue on.”

Kass, now actually letting a bit of a laugh escape, was clearly having a hard time not answering on Darwin’s behalf. Minx did well for Kass’s mood. She had often been quite serious lately, but now she was laughing and joking around again. Minx’s humor and attitude must be contagious. “There isn’t that much need for an explanation. I run a faction called the StormGuard Alliance, and that girl insists on formalities just because some of the other members do.”

“Ah, so you’re not the church kind, but the castle kind of lord? Do you get butlers? Do your butlers have to dress up super funny with the penguin outfits?” Minx started firing off questions one after the other.

“Minx, I’m just me. The swordsman, remember? Now, let’s get going.”

“Actually, Darwin, where is Fuzzy Wuzzy? It’s not like you to travel without him.”

“Oh, Fuzzy Wuzzy . . . I think Alex put him to work with the Turtle-Wolves lifting and moving stuff around the ship. He said having Fuzzy Wuzzy help him with the lifting was like having ten or twenty extra Turtle-Wolves.” Darwin did miss Fuzzy Wuzzy, but for some reason he had a feeling that if the bear were here, he’d end up just being a ridable mount for Minx the Lynx.

“Turtle-Wolves?” Kitchens asked.

“They are just as the name sounds,” Darwin said without really answering him.

“Ah.” Kitchens’ face still looked confused, but Minx, who had overheard the question and answer, was already pretending to be on her back and unable to get up--or at least doing the best impression she could from a standing position.

“Anyways, enough dilly dallying. I’m curious how this quest will turn out,” Darwin said as the four departed.

“I as well,” Kitchens agreed, and the four carried back on towards the gate. Then, quietly, he whispered to Darwin, “I’m also curious to see if you’ll end up sharing your chocolate chip cookies with Minx along the way.”

“What? You saw that?” he laughed.

“You lack patience with your stealth,” Kitchens lectured.

Alex would have been stealthy enough to get away with it, Darwin thought, upset that his Job Class had no benefits in the art of being unseen.

“Should I tell Minx you have them?” Kitchens threatened, the smile betraying his intent.

“How many do you want to keep silent?” Darwin asked while trying to guess what Minx was actually pretending to be now with all the gesticulations.

“Hmm, two,” he flatly demanded.

“That . . . That’s half!” Darwin almost yelled in surprise at the extortion, but did his best to keep his voice as muted as possible.

“Oh, well in that case, M--”

“Fine. Here. Are you happy with yourself?”

“Of course. I got chocolate chip cookies,” Kitchens said with a smile. Their suspicious quest had just begun, and already Darwin had managed to get conned.

Kass:

Kass found herself laughing the more and more she talked to Minx. It was like ten pixie sticks worth of a sugar rush had been rolled up in a busty, five-foot girl and given the personality of a high schooler who just got her first part in a play and her first boyfriend at the same time. Who couldn’t smile while talking to her? It quickly made sense how Darwin had managed to get snagged up and pushed into their quest with this pair--because it was fun. In fact, it had been so fun goofing off and talking to Minx that she hadn’t even noticed the time fly by. Truthfully, she never realized how long they had been because they reached their destination in what seemed like no time.

“Is that a . . .” Darwin said from behind her, his eyes pinpoint focused on the opening in the wall of the mountain where the marker on the map had lead them.

Kass facepalmed as she saw it. “Yes. Yes, Darwin. It looks just like a silver ore mine.”

“Think we’ll have any Turtle-Wolves?” Darwin wondered. “Maybe even another polar bear playing poker?”

“Is that where you met your faction members?” Kitchens asked. “A silver ore mine?”

“What? Oh, no, the Turtle-Wolves aren’t members of the faction,” Kass tried her best to explain without saying they were undead monsters, “They’re more like . . . helpers?”

“Ah, you can hire helpers?” Kitchens seemed to ask more questions than he gave answers.

“I wouldn’t know how we got them,” Kass decided to shift the responsibility of the impromptu Q&A session on to Darwin. “He’s the one who obtained them. Ask him.”

“Well?” Kitchens pressed.

“Trade secret. Only faction members are allowed to know,” Darwin said with a grin.

That’s not fair. You can’t just dodge questions, old man. Even I want to know how the Zombie skill works, Kass thought angrily at Darwin who just kept his grin up.

“Now, if you were to, say, join the faction . . . perhaps I could tell you a few of its secrets,” Darwin continued to Kass’s surprise. He had only ever recruited people who had asked him to join. He had never actually gone out and sought new members actively. True enough, he had supposedly given a big speech one time to the NPCs that riled them up and pulled them into the faction, but they had already been under his command. He had just sealed the deal.

“Does the faction come with dental?” Kitchens asked.

“Afraid not. Too many canines in the mix with all the Turtle-Wolves. The bill would be hell,” Darwin joked back.

“Hmm,” Kitchens took on a serious pensive look then, glancing over at Minx for a moment before looking back at Darwin, said, “Do you have a good daycare program?”

Wait, is she his daughter? I mean, she acts like a kid, but is she actually? Kass thought, scrambling mentally to try to figure out how old the little one was. In her mind, she had placed her at somewhere between six and fourteen, but she still couldn’t put her finger on it. Now, with the daycare comment, it was starting to lean a lot more heavily towards six or eight.

“We have a lot of children in the faction, actually,” Darwin answered, causing Kitchens to look a bit surprised. “Some are pretty much infants.”

He hasn’t figured out that all but four of us are NPCs, has he? she thought. So if they joined, we’d have one group that thinks the players are NPCs and another group that thinks the NPCs are players, she mused to herself.

“I see. Well, I’ll certainly think about it,” Kitchens answered.

“Minx wants to join!” Minx interrupted the two of them talking. “Can we? Can we?” she asked excitedly, although with Minx it was hard to tell if she was more excited than normal or not.

“Not yet, Minx. Let’s decide after the quest,” Kitchens said, putting his hand on her head. “Let’s be a little patient.”

“But mister is really nice, and big sister is fun. I want to group with them more!” Minx insisted again.

“Well, if you still want to join after the quest, we will. Okay, Minx?” Kitchens said, rubbing her head and messing up her hair with his hand.

“‘Kay ‘kay.” She didn’t put up a fight. “But remember after that you promised.”

“I will,” he assured her. “Promise.”

Yep. We got two more members, Kass laughed to herself. Most of the time when she joined guilds, they stayed the same size or tended to get smaller. Unless it was one of the big server raid groups, there wasn’t a lot of draw for people to join one. In fact, it was rather the opposite: small groups would fracture inside of a guild, and then the whole group would end up breaking up into a series of separate entities based around the cliques. This guild was starting to turn out different though. Rather than one large organized body fracturing into cliques, it was more like a group of cliques, like Valerie’s three White-Wings, were coming together to form a large, organized body.

“Do you want to risk, you know, just walking in?” Darwin asked the others. “I actually don’t have any idea of how strong the bandits we’re going to fight are. We could ask around, get some intelligence, figure things out from there, or we can just walk in. What do you guys think?”

“Ugh, talky talky so boring. Only old people go to the movies to watch people talk,” Minx said, running ahead of the other three.

“She’s very decisive,” Kass noted before chasing after her. Darwin and Kitchens must have taken their time--they seemed to like dragging behind her and Minx--because she didn’t hear them following after her.

That said, she probably should have also taken her time when navigating the torchlit ore mine and waited for backup. She didn’t make it more than thirty feet into the dungeon before she found Minx standing still and staring at a wall of four enemies, each with a bow pointed at her. Never a dull moment with this kid, is there?

As Kass looked at the four Human archers, she noticed two of them had already switched from Minx to her, training the arrows on her vital spots. “So,” she said, raising her hands like it was a western, “why haven’t you fired the arrows?”

“I don’t know about the other gentlemen here,” the tallest of the four archers said, “but I typically find it bad luck to kill a woman and child in cold blood.”

Kass should have just been happy with the development, but the sexist mark really angered her.  “What? Because a woman and child can’t take care of themselves? I’ll have you know I’m just as tough as any man!”

“I’m sure of that, lass, but I mean to say that if you kill a woman or child in cold blood it always comes with some scary, angry man attached. That’s what I mean to say by ‘it’s bad luck,’” he explained.

“Guys kind of like us, you mean?” Darwin asked, walking in fashionably late with Kitchens.

“Yeah, kind of like you two. Except, if the lasses here were dead, I imagine you’d be angry.”

“You’re right on that.”

“See there, lass? It wasn’t sexist: it was reasonable,” the archer said, feeling rather proud of himself.

“Well, actually,” one of the other archers looked over at him, “it still is kind of sexist. Your statement is kind of implying that either women don’t seek revenge, or you’re not afraid of an angry woman coming after you for seeking vengeance.”

“Oh, that’s true. That would be sexist, but only if you accept one of those implications. It could be that only a woman and a child were present, so I merely felt no need to add in an adult male, an absent demographic, to the considerations when formulating my response to the lass’s questions. Maybe I don’t kill in cold blood at all if I can avoid it,” the archer reasoned further.

“Well, it still is kind of demeaning to women to narrow them out by their gender and not other qualifications though, don’t you think?” a third archer from the group of four chimed in. “I mean, is her defining characteristic really the fact that she’s a girl? You could have said, ‘I don’t kill dagger-wielders or mages.’ So, why did you pick women and children? Seems a bit ageist and sexist, you have to admit.”

“Well if I did that, you’d get on to me for being classist or weaponist, now wouldn’t you?” the first archer, the one defending himself, said.

“You could just say you don’t kill people. You don’t have to separate them, you know,” the fourth archer said, joining the discussion. The entire time they were bickering though, Kass found herself baffled. On one hand, she should probably be scared that a loose finger or slip of the hand might cause a good amount of pain. On the other hand, however, there was something decidedly unintimidating about a group of men arguing over what was or wasn’t politically correct when describing how they don’t kill people.

“Well, how cool would that be? There isn’t really a ring to, ‘I find it to be bad luck to kill people in cold blood,’” he protested.

“There you go again with separating people. How do you know she’s got cold blood? Does she have scales? Seems like you’re gonna end up being offensive to the Reptilians there.”

“Fair point, fair point,” one of the other archers, not the one defending himself, agreed. “You really should just stick with: ‘I don’t like to kill people.’ I think it’s your best bet if you don’t want to be offensive.”

“Ummm,” Kass decided to join the conversation. “You could say when you don’t like to kill people? It might add some pizazz and effect to it. For example, ‘I don’t like to kill people on an empty stomach.’ I don’t know when you ate. That might or might not be a lot scarier than just saying you don’t like to kill people, but it’s definitely more interesting.”

“Lady is right. For sure. Go ahead, Reginald. Give it a try. See how it feels. If you like it, it might stop you from being so offensive next time.”

“Fine! Fine! I’ll give it a try,” he shouted at the other archer. Then, true to his word he tried out the line: “I wouldn’t take one step closer, or I’ll have to kill you, and I don’t like to kill on an empty stomach.” He paused for his moment and then started nodding his head. “That really worked. I mean, I felt that one. Did you guys feel that one?”

“Yeah, it was pretty awesome. Felt tight. Really had me going there, Reggy.”

“For sure. It fit you like a glove. See, you don’t have to be offensive to have a solid line,” he said to his buddy and then turning to Kass, “Thanks, miss, for helping him out.”

“No problem, I guess? Does this mean you’re not going to shoot me?”

“Oh, heavens to Betsy, no. We still have to kill you if you move an inch closer. Rules and all,” he shrugged. “But, if it makes you feel better, I’ll feel super terrible while I do it.”

“Well, you could show us the door or force us to fight you . . .” Darwin did his usual pause for dramatic effect in the middle of a conversation, “Or, you could let us talk to you about how we can help with your King problem.”

King problem? I thought they were a problem to the King, not the other way around. What is Darwin talking about? Kass wondered as the archers untrained the bows slowly and then all at once put them up.

“Alright, we’ll take you to the boss, but no funny business. One slip up from any of you, and they’ll cut our rations. I’d rather not sink what little money I have left into belts.”

“You’ve got nothing to fear. I wasn’t born with a good sense of humor,” Darwin assured the worried archer.

“Are you sure about that? I mean, have you seen how you dress?” one of the archers asked Darwin as the group of eight started walking deeper into the silver ore mine. “There is no way you picked that outfit without a sense of humor.”

“Right? Seriously, man. If you weren’t intending that to be funny, then that outfit is a desperate cry for help,” Reginald joined in.

“I like my outfit,” Darwin said, looking down at his bathrobe. “It’s comfy.”

“Well, at least someone does.” The archers’ attacks were relentless.

“The boss might too, I caught him wearing white in the winter,” Reginald laughed. “His tastes might be just as bad as yours.”

I really hope I never sound like them, Kass thought to herself, remembering all the times she had teased one of her friends about their outfits. I really, really hope that I never sound like that.

“Mister, mister! Don’t listen to them. You look cool. Super styles!” Minx said, pulling on Darwin’s bathrobe.

Kass thought for a minute about joining her in reassuring Darwin that he didn’t look stupid, especially since the bathrobe had been designed to match her white dress, but then decided that she would take the low road. “Well, at least he’s not wearing all black leather armor. I can’t tell if you all go to the same dungeon or if it’s just the same open mic poetry club.”

“Miss, that was just uncalled for. Louie here is an excellent poet. There is no need to tease him about it,” the archer who had first argued with Reginald said, eliciting nods from the other three.

“He really is. You should go sometime and listen.”

Kass had to struggle to resist the urge to facepalm yet again. “I’m sure he is,” she said, doing her best not to sound sarcastic. How did I get held up at arrow point by these four bozos?

“Hey, do you guys feel something funny?” Louie asked, looking at the other seven.

“Like funny ‘ha ha’ or funny ‘strange’?” Reginald questioned as they kept walking.

“Funny ‘strange.’ I’m not the only one who feels it, right?” Louie continued, “It also smells different in here.”

“Louie, we’re in the middle of an ore mine,” one of the still unnamed archers said. “Of course it’s going to smell different. Did you expect it to smell like a garden of orchids and lilacs? Or are you trying to say one of us farted so bad it made this dung hole smell worse?”

“No, no, listen to Louie for a minute, Steve,” Reginald said, putting out his arm and stopping the group of them. “I think he’s right. Do you not smell that?”

“What, it doesn’t smell bad at all?” Steve said, sniffing in overly exaggerated gestures. “It just kind of smells like--”

“Like unripe tomatoes,” Kitchens interrupted the quarreling guards. “Cover your mouths!”

Everyone put a hand over their mouth, but for some it had been too late. Louie and Reginald, the first two to notice the smell, found themselves leaning against a wall and then sliding to the floor. Steve and the other archer followed suit with Minx not far behind.

Kass looked around, panicked. She didn’t know what was going on. She had covered her mouth, but she was already starting to feel the effects of whatever was invading her system. The cloth in front of her face was doing little to nothing to protect her. She saw Darwin and Kitchens running back the way they had entered, but as Kass tried to follow she soon found her legs giving way and starting to wobble. Before she knew it, she had tripped and was lying face down on the ground. “Darwin . . .” she managed to say softly, reaching in his direction as he barreled towards the exit. “Darwin . . . don’t l . . .”

You have been knocked unconscious. You have fifteen minutes until you will regain consciousness.

Again? Really? Why can’t I enter a silver ore mine without getting knocked unconscious? Kass cursed, still worried about her friends. This was just like the time with the poker playing bear, except at least this time it was only a fifteen minute wait and not a two hour one. However, the short time aside, it didn’t assuage her concerns over what would happen while she was out. He’s Darwin, right? He’s killed a Hydra by himself. He’ll be fine. He’ll be okay. I mean, there’s no way anything can hurt that doof. Nothing has ever hurt him. . . She found herself doing her best to reassure herself despite the fact that Darwin was short a team and probably about to go into a fight. It didn’t help ease her mind that she wasn’t even aware of who or what he was up against and whether or not he was even conscious at the moment. He’s Darwin. He’ll be fine . . . He’ll be fine.

Darwin:

“I’m afraid my senses are too dulled, Darwin. I won’t be much good to you in the fight ahead,” Kitchens noted as the two of them exited the cave.

“Do we even know what we are fighting?” Darwin wondered, looking around at his surroundings.

“I’m afraid we do, and, even with your ability, I don’t think we’ll win. My reflexes and Speed stat are too slow now. I won’t be able to help you much,” Kitchens said, spreading his legs and entering a stance that Darwin hadn’t seen him do in battle before. It was like an old-fashioned samurai stance from the movies, except done by a cat guy with a tank top instead of the usual ornately armor-covered, mask-wearing samurai.

“Well, want to tell me who we’re fighting at least?” Darwin said, pulling out his two Burriza’s.

“We’re fighting our friends from the arena, but this time they brought the whole crew,” Kitchens said.

“How many?” Darwin thought, still not seeing any of them. How on earth can he spot them? Did he just recognize the poison they used?

“Eleven. Maybe more. I don’t know if they’ve recruited anyone since I left, but that poison back there was a nerve gas. It slowly ticks away at your Speed stat until you are unconscious. I have less than a minute or so left at most before I pass out, and until then I won’t be fast enough to take them on properly,” he said, closing his eyes and focusing on his blade. “This failure is mine: I should have noticed before the guards.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it for you,” Darwin said, looking at the man. This may be it for me. Those ninjas weren’t tough, but if my Speed stat really is dropping, I’m a dead man. “Just get some rest when your minute hits.”

“I’ll see you in town when we respawn,” Kitchens said, planting his sword into the ground in front of him, leaning on it and then closing his eyes.

Darwin thought about running, leaving Kitchens, Kass and them to die at the hands of the unseen assailants, but he just couldn’t justify it. Sure, if they died, it was just a simple matter of respawning, whereas his death may be more . . . permanent, but just the thought of abandoning them left an awful taste in his mouth. They’re my friends. Don’t even think about it, Darwin said to himself as he stared around at the woods surrounding the entrance to the mine.

Then, after a good two or three minutes of waiting, one of the cat Ninjas, the one he had mutilated in the arena, popped out and took off her mask. “I must admit that I’m surprised to see you still standing. I thought surely if you breathed in the gas, you’d be out like a light by now.”

“I guess I’m lucky,” Darwin said. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. As she was talking, more and more Felines popped out, each one in the same annoying black ninja outfit.

“I wouldn’t say that. Their deaths will be peaceful. Yours on the other hand . . .” She touched the place on her wrists where he had chopped off her hands in the arena. “Your death will not be.”

“That is still yet to be seen,” Darwin did his best at a snappy comeback. “You couldn’t beat me earlier, so what makes you think you can beat me here?”

“Oh, it’s my friends, and your lack thereof,” she laughed then pulled out her dagger and started etching it across her own body as she threatened and taunted Darwin. “You see, first, I’m going to tie you up and drag you away so your friends won’t find you. Then, I’m going to cut off your fingers. Then I’m going to cut off your hands. Then I’m going to draw this blade up and down your body until . . .”

Her taunts probably would have gone on for a while, but the hour mark hit and Hunger kicked in. His eyes flashed red, his hands moved on their own and he found himself charging at the vile woman with weapons out before he even fully realized what was happening to him.

“G-g-get him!” she yelled as she did her best to block the first sword. She did manage to stop it from being fatal, but he still had left a gash five inches deep in her shoulder, leaving her screaming on the ground and unable to lift the arm she needed to stop the second swing, the swing that would have killed her if not for her allies.

As soon as Darwin went for the final blow, three shuriken tore into his left arm, not crippling it, but sending enough pain up it to force him to twist and stop the fourth as he was pushed back from his prey. At that point, two ninjas who had been close by rushed at him with blades drawn. This is bad. I can’t stop them both, Darwin thought as he saw their speedy charge. Well, if I can’t stop you both, I’m taking one of you with me, he thought, pulling his swords up and parrying the ninja on the right with one blade while taking its head off with the second. It was a good, clean kill, but it came at a price. The other ninja, unchecked, had torn her weapon through his side. He couldn’t see his health bar but he knew it was down to 25 or 30% and dropping by the second from blood loss.

I . . . I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die! he screamed in his head. It was the first time he actually felt himself to be in mortal danger since he entered the world. Other fights had been difficult, and sometimes they felt like winning was going to be downright impossible, but he had never been seriously hurt. He hadn’t ever been gashed so badly his life bar was going to empty and cause him to perish. In a blind grasp to control the situation, he turned around as quickly as he could and pounced on the ninja who had just stabbed him. I don’t want to die . . . His mind was still screaming as he stabbed her with his sword. She hadn’t gone down without a fight, the blade still firmly protruding from his leg bore tribute to the penalty he had paid for attacking her.

“He . . . He’s weak! Get him!” the injured group leader screamed from the ground.

Two more of the ninjas started barreling towards him in an attack formation, the same charge pattern that had left him so weak, so crippled. I can’t stop them both. Stephanie, where are you, I c . . . Darwin was beginning to feel the life slip out of him. I can’t stop them . . . He pulled himself together, cleared his head. He didn’t have but a second before they hit, and he had no idea how to block them. As they came in reach though, he gave up on the concept altogether. If I have to die, you have to die too! he shouted at them in his mind, too weak and mentally drained from the wound to put voice to the words as he waited for the last minute and then lashed out at both of them with his swords. Success . . . he thought, seeing their bodies fall before him, but the feeling of joy from the kills was short lived. They had landed their marks too. His knees buckled then collapsed to the ground, and slowly he fell forward onto his face, the force driving the sword in his leg even deeper. Bye-bye . . . he muttered to himself as the world went dark.

Soul Devourer has been activated and consumed your 44 soul charges. You have been restored to full life and will have a +50% increase on all stat values for 220 seconds after the resurrection process is complete.

Due to having no soul charges remaining, you will awaken with Hunger active.

This effect may not occur more than once an hour.

Red flashed and pain surged throughout his body. He could feel the blade that had been stuck in his leg pushing itself out and his sides sealing themselves up. Every wound, even the shuriken-inflicted wounds he no longer noticed due to the searing pain of the stab wounds in his front, stung and hurt like he had pressed them against a hot stove as they healed. Worse than that though, worse than the burning stinging sensation that dug into each wound as it closed and made his mind wail in pain, was the pain in his head. He could feel the skin on two spots near his temples split open, tormenting him so much that he couldn’t help but let out a scream of agony.

When it finally ended, when the excruciating burning sensations were gone, he found himself standing upright, and he couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t that anything was funny--in fact the whole situation was on the opposite spectrum of funny--it was just the relief. The second he felt the absence of that fiery pain engulfing his body, the sensation of simply not being tormented by waves of agony felt like pure bliss. It felt so good, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Wha . . . What are you?” one of the ninjas screamed, shaking him back to reality. The red didn’t fade. He was still being racked with the urge to feed even if the rest of the pain was gone. “What in the f--” She didn’t finish her sentence before Darwin had covered the distance between them and sliced her in half. She wasn’t alone, either: the two guys next to her fell in what felt like less than a second too.

They’re so slow, he thought. Their actions looked as if they were lagged and hampered, like their bodies were struggling to move underwater. They’re so slow. They’re so weak. He found himself annoyed with them. How did I die to them? How did they kill me with just this? he thought, cutting through the fourth one. It hadn’t even been ten seconds since his revival, and already their numbers had gone down from seven remaining to three.

The last two standing ninjas tried to split up, throwing shuriken one after the other at him while they ran backwards. When he closed in on one of them, the would-be escape artist tossed a smoke grenade onto the floor in front of him, likely expecting it to cover a retreat. Too slow, Darwin thought, cutting his legs out from under him and decapitating him before the body could touch the ground.

The final ninja, the one who had hit him with at least six ninja stars in the confrontation before his revival, started shaking before turning around and running at full speed. Darwin, still laughing from the lack of pain, threw one of his swords as hard as he could right into the back of her skull while she ran, leaving it sticking up and planted in her quickly fallen corpse like a flag.

He turned to the leader, pale and frozen on the ground, lying on her back where he had left her after their initial confrontation. “You . . . You almost killed me,” he said, still angry he had to go through all of it. She had bullied his friend, she had wanted to torture him and she had him thinking he was going to die. He couldn’t shake it, any of it. “You almost killed me,” he repeated, his laughter slowly coming back.

“Wh-what the he-- . . . What the f-- . . . What . . . you?” she couldn’t get a sentence out without stammering. Every attempt at speaking was cut short with a deep, ragged breath as she slowly started pushing herself backwards across the ground on her hands. “S-stop it! G-g-go away!”

“You said you wanted to cut off my fingers?” Darwin said, stepping on her hand as she kept trying to scoot away from him and then dragging the sword across the ground to slice her fingers off. “You said you wanted to then take off my hands after,” he said, finishing the job then cutting both the hands off at the wrist.

Darwin had difficulty hearing what he said next over her screams. “What was it you were going to do next? Drag the blade up and down my body?”

As Darwin did exactly as the cat ninja had threatened, a part of him knew it wasn’t right. This wasn’t how he normally behaved. Even in the arena, when he had dismembered her, he felt a little off. This was pushing that even further, but he couldn’t help himself. As much as it felt wrong, it also felt right. Like this was justice. Like she needed to understand the consequences of her actions, that the inability to die didn’t make her immune to due punishment. She needed to feel regret for even playing with the idea of crossing him.

“It . . . It wasn’t our idea!” the cat woman yelled as Darwin’s sword dug into her gut. “The King made us do it!” Darwin stopped, standing up.

“What?” he asked, pulling his sword out of her and taking a step back.

“It’s how we found you. We didn’t revive in time to follow you, but the King had a map. He said he knew we’d be after revenge and told us where to find you.” The Feline rushed every word as if she had to finish her sentence on a timer or she was going to die in real life. “He wanted us to make sure you killed the bandits and then kill you to get rid of the evidence. That’s why we poisoned the tunnel when we overheard you cooperating.”

“That . . . That freaking panda. I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him for this,” Darwin muttered contemptuously under his breath. He knew the panda had been using him, and he had perfectly surmised that he was sent to put down rebels who opposed his rule and not simple bandits, but he hadn’t anticipated for a moment that the King would dispose of him. Did he want to kill us too and then claim that he saved the villages despite their rebellious nature? he wondered, looking around. No, it doesn’t make sense. He could use us again for other rebellions if we did a good job here, so why is he trying to get rid of us?

“Please . . .” the cat lady begged below him. “Please . . . I’ve told you everything. Just finish it.”

Darwin crouched down over her and leaned in till his mouth touched her ear, and he said, “I’m sorry. Rest easy now,” as he finished the job with a quick stab to the heart. She had just been a pawn the same as him. She may have almost killed him, but a tool was something to be pitied, not punished the way he had punished her.

Standing back up and looking around at the havoc he had caused, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud, but still confused. After a few seconds, the light feeling, like his body didn’t weigh more than a feather, and the slow, molasses-like movements of the world around him faded. Everything returned back to normal--or at least almost normal. He still felt a bit lighter than usual, and things still seemed to move more slowly, but the feeling wasn’t anywhere on the same level as before.

Now what do I do? he thought, wondering how long the nerve gas would leave Kitchens and the rest unconscious. Since he wasn’t sure how long the gas would last, he decided to just go meet the boss himself. He didn’t want to leave everyone lying around, however, so he picked up Kitchens on his way in and threw him over his shoulder. Then he threw Kass over the other shoulder and did his best to try and carry Minx too. It wasn’t so much the weight but the positioning that was rather awkward, and he found himself wishing he could just put the sleeping people into his seemingly magical inventory. Failing in his attempt to try and carry them all, he finally just stacked all the unconscious people up against the wall where they had first noticed the smell, bringing them one at a time since trying to carry his friends all at once proved too much of a trial. Seriously, why can’t I just put them in my inventory until they wake up? he grumbled again as he propped Minx up next to Kitchens against the wall.

Then he waited. It was only around five minutes before the first archer, Louie, started to move again. “Ah, my head. Light . . . Why is there light? Who turned on the noise?” the archer grumbled, rubbing his forehead and holding his free hand up to block the light from one of the nearby torches.

“Shhh, shhh, the noise. Stop the noise,” Reginald said as he woke up second.

So they’re waking up in the order they went down, ey? Darwin noted as one by one the archers came to, each with what looked like an incredibly massive hangover. As they all started complaining about the noise, Darwin had an evil desire to bang two giant symbols together, but decided that even if he actually had the symbols to bang, no matter how amusing it was, Kass would probably kill him for it later.

“Wow, that smarts,” Kass said, waking up next. “Did not see that coming. Did we get pois--”

“Shhhhh shushie shushie shushie shushie!” Minx said, holding a finger to her mouth with both her eyes firmly squinted shut.

“Oka--” Kass tried to agree, but Minx cut her off again.

“SHUSHIE!” Minx snapped.

“Mmm . . . We didn’t die,” Kitchens said, following suit with the rest of them and avoiding even the smallest amount of torch light.

Darwin was almost tempted to snuff out the torches in an act of kindness, but years of experience told him that they needed to get used to it sooner rather than later. So games can make the player feel like he’s hung over. That’s interesting, Darwin noted. It wasn’t far enough outside of his realm of belief enough to shock him. Whatever developer came up with this game had, for some reason, decided to add a level of realism that he simply hadn’t ever thought could or would exist within a virtual world. Sure, the game was monitored and all, at least Darwin assumed it was, but there were scenes of downright torture that existed in this fun little video game that didn’t seem a reasonable addition to an otherwise enjoyable and entertaining experience.

“Came pretty close,” Darwin admitted, remembering the dreadful moment where he thought he had passed away. “Came very close. The Panda King had sent a group to assassinate us after we finished our job, and they started early when they saw we weren’t complying.”

“Mmm. Then I guess I owe you my tha--” Kitchens stopped mid-sentence, or rather he stopped talking as soon as his eyes managed to open. Sitting there on the floor, back leaned against the wall, he was staring at Darwin with squinted focus in silence.

“Yeah, thanks a lot Da--” Kass for some reason also went quiet as her eyes opened up.

Even the guards started staring at him, one by one, as their eyes started to function enough to look around. Darwin, not sure what was going on, looked at his bathrobe first. Covered in blood, but that’s expected after a fight. He then started checking his body parts to make sure everything was in place. Head, shoulders, knees . . . all my fingers are here. Is there something on my face? No, cheeks are smooth, I haven’t eaten anything but cookies lately. Is there a bit of cookie in my tooth? He started growing more and more self conscious.

“Mister, mister, why are you so horny?” Minx said after staring at him for a moment too, finally breaking the silence. “Why did you get horny when we all passed out?”

Horny? I’m not horny! Wait, is this like eighth grade again? Darwin thought, looking down to confirm his fears weren’t true.

“Not down there, mister. Up here. Like this,” Minx said, placing her hands against her head and pointing two fingers up like mini horns. “Rawwwrr, I can be horny too, mister.”

“What are you talking about, Minx?” Darwin said, reaching up to touch the spot on his head that she was touching on hers. Sure enough, there were what felt like horns. They weren’t particularly big, no more than a few inches, but they were, undeniably, sharp, pointy, horns. “What in the--”

“What? Mister didn’t notice he has horns? How do you get horns and not notice? Wait. Is this the drugs? Am I on the drugs? Do you guys see too? You guys see too, right?” Minx said, looking at everyone else.

“Yes, Minx, he is a horny deviant,” Kitchens agreed.

“Mmhmm, a very horny deviant indeed,” Kass repeated.

“That’s right. You got bona fide horns. Kind of makes you look like a demon with the red eyes and all,” Reginald chimed in. “You’re not going to eat our children while we sleep? I’ve heard that’s a thing, you know, demons eating good folks children while they sleep.”

“No, I don’t think he’s that type of demon,” Louie said, patting his friend on the back. “I mean, I reckon if he were that kind, one of us would be missing organs or something, and he’d be covered in . . . Wait, mister, you are covered in blood. Did you eat someone’s kids?”

Darwin rolled his eyes. “Not that I can remember,” he said, still doing his best to feel the horns on his head. “Anyways, can someone give me a mirror? I kind of want to see what the heck these things are.”

“Hey, don’t look at us,” Louie said. “It’s not like a bunch of guards in a filthy mine like this carry around mirrors to see how dashing we all look.”

“Especially not with these outfits,” the still nameless archer said. “Downright dreadful. If it wasn’t for the extra protection, I wouldn’t even use these sleeves for toilet paper.”

“Right? You think the Captain could spend just a little bit of money and spring for some proper dyes. The coloration on these filthy things makes it look like me mum pulled this right out of the compost bin to put it straight into a heaping pile of fertilizer.”

“Ladies,” Kass said, “I think you were going to take us to your boss before we were interrupted.”

“Oh, right. That we were,” Reginald said, standing up and brushing off his pants. “Let’s go. Follow us . . . and no funny business!”

“Don’t you think we’re past that by now?” Darwin asked, pretty sure that saving their lives from would-be ninja assailants definitely earned him less skepticism.

“Maybe . . . or maybe this is all part of your evil demon plan. No way to know,” he said, picking up a torch from one of the walls as they made their way deeper into the dungeon.

Well, at least there weren’t any Turtle-Wolves this time.

Chapter 5: Fashionably Great

Alex:

Alex stood squarely in the center of the galleon’s top deck. He was leaning over a makeshift table he had pulled up from below decks and quickly assembled as soon as they docked. He was staring at a stack of inventory lists piled on top of another stack of maps. Some of the other faction members had questioned why he would choose that particular spot, in the middle of everyone, arguing that it would get in the way of people loading and unloading the cargo, but Alex knew better. He knew that if the boss could see the subordinate, the subordinate would work harder. If a soldier could reach his commanding officers without walls or other impediments in the way, he’d be more likely to do so, allowing the officer to be better informed of everything at all times. He knew this because he had been intimidated by walls before. He had slacked off in Valcrest because no one was ever watching--a mistake that he would strive to never repeat.

He was going over the monetary ledgers that Darwin, who had entrusted him with almost all day-to-day operations, had left for him to handle when he heard Justin approach from behind. He’s too obvious in his movements. It could cost him his life one day, he sighed. He needs to train more.

“General Alex, the soldiers have reported excellent progress on all assignments,” Justin said, saluting Alex as soon as he finished stepping onto the deck.

“At ease, Justin. When the Great Lord Darwin isn’t here, you can drop the formalities. They only hinder us by wasting time. Now, you said there was good news? There were no issues getting the supplies needed?” Alex asked, a little surprised that the sheer quantity of material they were buying hadn’t created an unmanageable spike in the price of the goods back at the market.

“None, sir. No issues at all,” Justin replied.

Did we buy them so quickly the merchants weren’t able to figure out what we were doing, or is it just that this town is so massive that the population of our entire Demon Race was nothing more than a drop in the bucket to them?

“The prices on the commodities we needed stayed fixed, and the amount we required didn’t seem to phase their merchants,” Justin continued, seeing the expression of curiosity on Alex’s face.

“That is great news.” This is crazy. Alex couldn’t help but be stunned by the news. We just bought enough supplies for every person that we have to account for. Three hundred and forty two from Valcrest--including women and children, of course--three more that needed supplies from the White-Wings, as well as even more supplies for the lord and his two ladies. That’s a full soldier’s rations and supplies for three hundred and forty eight people, and Justin is saying he got it all with no haggling and at a fair price in less than two hours? I didn’t even give him a coin more than the old capital’s markets would have charged per unit. “That will definitely put us ahead of schedule. When should we expect to have it all loaded in the craftsmen's quarters?”

“It should arrive momentarily.”

“Did the merchants send anyone with you to carry the supplies here?”

“No. It was the three White-Wings that joined our ranks,” Justin explained. “Daniel specifically said he would load it up and bring it here for us.” Then, pausing a moment when he saw Alex’s mouth open slightly in surprise at the statement, added, “I didn’t think it would be an issue. If the Great Lord Darwin trusts him, can’t he handle this type of task?”

“It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of capability. How long do you think it will take three people to carry that many supplies across a town so heavily populated? Even if they use wagons drawn by animals, we still have to account for the very real possibility that one of the street urchins will pick stuff off the back unless they are being guarded,” Alex lectured. He didn’t understand why Justin would have just left them to come back and report.

“Actually, the thing about that is . . .” Justin paused again, visibly working out how best to put his words together. “They are doing that weird thing Darwin does.”

More people with that weird ability, Alex thought. This is good. We’ll finally be able to test that secret magic’s limit. “Justin, have we finished offloading all the gear and equipment we plundered from the corpses on the beach?”

“No, sir, we’re only a tenth of the way into it at most.”

“Excellent,” Alex said, turning away from Justin and back to the ledgers. “Excellent. Send them up here when they’re done. Also, is the new gear ready? Sal reported earlier that we should have five combat-ready versions within the first hour.”

“I’ll check on that right away, General Alex,” Justin said, dismissing himself to take care of the work before Alex had time to say goodbye.

As Alex stared at the ledger, he couldn’t help but glance over at the Captain’s quarters again. He had, on several occasions, believed the door to have moved on its own. It wouldn’t have surprised him one bit to learn that the Great Lord Darwin’s girl had gone in and out without anyone noticing. We are fortunate to have such a charismatic leader, Alex thought as he kept watching the door. He has wooed such a beautiful ice princess on the one hand and seduced a great battle queen into bed on the other. How in the world does he have the time to also manage a kingdom? It’s like he never sleeps.

After a few moments, he noticed the White-Wings make their way onto the deck too. “Alex,” Valerie said, trying to get his attention without realizing that Alex had been aware of them since they first stepped foot onto the craft. He may be parading around as a General now, but he had still spent over a decade hunting and tracking as a scout. “Darwin told us to report in with you. Sorry about not being here sooner, but we ran into Justin in the market, and he said we needed to carry a few things. Daniel is dropping them off now.”

Yeah, carry a few things in the same way bankers only lend out a few coins, Alex looked her body up and down skeptically. Where do they put it all? “Great, we really appreciate the help. You have saved us an immense amount of time and effort.”

“Whatever we can do for the cause, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Well, there are a few things, but before I ask anything of you, I have to know: did the Great Lord Darwin leave me any orders?” Alex asked, curious as to what his glorious commander was up to.

“Nothing in particular, sir. He just said to make sure the preparations were ready for the move as soon as possible, and then he went off to take care of a quest,” Valerie answered, standing straighter and more at attention than most of the new soldier recruits drawn from the old Valcrest population.

“Do you know any details on the quest?”

“Oh, yes! He gave us the route and whereabouts of his destination so we could find him easily. If you have a map, I can show you,” she said, eyeing the maps on the table.

“Please do,” he gestured to one of the larger maps of the area he had been able to collect.

“Well, from what I understand, he’s looking for a bandit population in these areas,” she said, thumbing a rough line from the city to a mountain clearing on the other side of the map. “It’s actually rather convenient since we’d have to pass through that region anyways to get to the dungeon you specified.”

“Hmm, let’s get to the dungeon later. Do we have any intelligence on these bandits that he’s going to subdue?”

“None, sir, but it’s Darwin, and he wasn’t alone,” Valerie said. “He was in a group of four, including Lady Kass. The two newcomers seemed pretty competent.”

“Well, we’ll be able to catch up with them as soon as we have all the preparations ready.”

Alex stared at the map, looking at the location where Darwin had gone. He wanted to go with him, be part of the adventure again. It had been a thrill when they had worked their way through the forests and across the hellish beach battle. Darwin had done the brunt of it alone or with only Kass, and now he had gone off with two new people and left him to pick up the slack. No, someone needs to defend the fort, he thought. There is no job more important to the cause and survival of our people than the one I am doing now, and there is none more fit to my charge.

“You said there were some things we could do to help?” Valerie interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes, there actually are, but Justin will have to show you to them,” he said.

Justin, appearing as if summoned, showed up holding five prototypes of the new gear that had been specially designed for the Demons.

“Speak of the Devil, and there you are,” Alex said to Justin, only realizing after he had said it that ‘speak of the Devil’ might be ironically appropriate when referring to Demons. “I need you to take Valerie and her group to the storage hold and have them load up the excess loot. See if they can’t sell it off at the market.”

“General, if it’s not too much to ask,” Justin said as he looked at the five new items, “perhaps we could have them wait a minute. This will be the first time anyone tries these on. Don’t you think the new members should see it?”

Alex looked at the new equipment with a big grin. “No, everyone who can should see this. Go gather up everyone who isn’t too busy working. Let’s show them what they have to look forward to.”

Valerie looked at the gear with a lopsided frown. She muttered something under her breath, but Alex couldn’t make it out. Alex saw the look and immediately dismissed it. She just thinks that our craftsmen can’t make a version for her too. She shouldn’t worry so much. She’s one of us now.

“Actually, sir, almost everyone is working hard right now. If we pause for this, it might set us back half an hour at the very least. I suggest we just test it out ourselves. Everyone will have the honor of using it anyway. They will be able to celebrate the craftsmen’s hard work then,” Justin advised.

He’s right. If we get too caught up in every triumphant moment, the cause will be hurt. We can’t forget why we are doing what we are doing. “Very well. Justin, would you do the honors then and dawn the new uniform?”

Justin’s face lit up excitedly. It wasn’t often that people made Justin Yoo smile, but now it was like he had been given the finest slice of rump roast with the tallest glass of mead. “Thank you, sir. It would be my pleasure,” he said, placing all but one of the uniforms down on the table before quickly leaving to find a room where he could change.

“He’s . . . He’s really enthusiastic, isn’t he?” Valerie noted as the trail of dust left by Justin began to disappear and slowly fade.

“He’ll be the first one to wear our colors. Why wouldn’t he be?” Alex looked at her curiously. She still doesn’t understand that we’ll be able to make her one too, does she?

As Justin reemerged from his private quarters, sporting the glorious new apparel of the StormGuard Alliance, Alex felt his chest swell with pride. He had wanted to be the first one to try it on, but he knew that if the man in charge took that honor, it would hurt morale. ‘A superior should never eat before his subordinates’ was a lesson he had come to understand better as he worked under the Great Lord Darwin, who constantly spurned honors and was the first to accept burdens. He was the type of dedicated and hardworking leader Alex knew he needed to become.

“Wow,” Valerie said as she looked at Justin. “That’s just . . . Yeah . . .”

“Indeed,” Alex nodded. “It’s not the finest work of craftsmanship out there, but it’s definitely high quality and made from great materials. Justin, how does it feel?”

“General Alex, it feels . . . It feels very freeing. It doesn’t restrict movement in the least. It’s like I’m wearing nothing at all, but I’m still very protected,” he listed off the benefits. “Also, how do I look?”

“You look like the finest soldier in all the lands, Justin. It suits you perfectly,” Alex said, still nodding. “A fine soldier indeed.”

“It’s a . . . It’s not armor, is it? It’s a bathrobe, right?” Valerie said. Alex noted that she was still clearly having trouble forming words because of how impressed she was.

“A bathrobe? I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is armor modeled after the finest armor in the lands. It’s the armor of our Great Lord Darwin. Nothing less would satisfy him; and, as such, we should emulate him and be satisfied with nothing less either.”

“Nothing less would satisfy him?” Daniel asked as he returned to the deck from below. “You mean he tried on things before the bathrobe?”

“Oh, yes. He tried on a myriad of different outfits when he first came to the humble town of Valcrest as a simple vagabond,” Alex began.

“So, out of all the possible different types of armor available in an entire town, he went with a bathrobe?” Valerie’s confusion was hard for Alex to understand.

“Of course. You can’t look at that and tell me it’s not the spitting image of glory,” Alex said, looking back at the gear. The bathrobe was solid black, not white, but in the same design as Darwin’s. On the back, however, there was a large red symbol: two crossed swords in front of a large spoon. There was debate on whether or not to include the piece of silverware, but no one could possibly think about their Great Lord Darwin without also remembering the spoon on his robe. That particular bit of cutlery was the symbol that he had worn for as long as anyone could remember.

“I have to admit . . . it actually looks pretty cool,” Daniel said as he stared at the uniform. “You think they come with wing holes?”

“What? You want to wear one too?” Valerie asked.

Valerie, there will be enough for everyone. You don’t have to take them from your friends. You shouldn’t be so greedy, Alex thought, shaking his head. “We plan to have them prepared for you as well, but these were just trial runs, so they are the standard versions. Apologies.”

“No need. That looks awesome. Can I get one too? Do we need to pay for them?” Mclean said this time, clasping Daniel’s shoulder. “Can you imagine how cool a group fight is going to be with us all wearing those?”

“I know. I bet Darwin is going to laugh his head off when he sees these. It’ll make his day,” Daniel said, the two of them still looking at Justin as he slowly turned to make sure everyone could see the design perfectly.

“Justin, do you want to keep that uniform?” Alex asked, walking up and patting him on the back.

“Yes, sir,” he answered immediately.

“Good,” Alex said, walking back to the table to get him the other four outfits. “Take these others, distribute them at random until everyone has a pair, and make sure they get three made with the proper wing modifications for the new members too.”

“Oh, you’re going to make me one too?” Valerie asked, her face unclear to Alex.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we? You’re one of us now. We will never leave you out of anything,” Alex said, patting her on the back, a somewhat difficult task as he had to work around her wings to do it.

“Umm, thank you, sir,” she said. “I guess we should get going then.”

“So soon?” Alex looked at her. “I thought the three of you were going to help out around here before departing. Is the offer still good?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, what did you need?” Valerie said, her smile returning.

She must not be used to being included in honors like this, Alex thought, happy he had made sure to let her know she wouldn’t be left out of getting a uniform. She must not be used to being part of a group. “Well, for starters, there is a matter of unloading all the spoils from the beach battle . . .” Alex began his laundry list of things that needed doing. He knew they were probably just as eager as he was to see the city in its fullest, so he made sure to give them tasks that would have them wandering around the town, things like finding merchants and the like. After seeing how Valerie had been so moved, how she had been left speechless, just from being truly recognized as one of the faction, he was sure that he’d be able to more heavily rely on them in the future. I will become a good leader just like the Great Lord Darwin, he thought, eagerly looking forward to his new uniform.

Kass:

Kass found herself doing everything in her power to look at Darwin’s face, but given that she had somehow managed to end up in the very back of their small group, and he was at the very front, it was starting to feel like an impossible task. Darwin had somehow already managed to cozy up to the NPCs that they were sent to kill and was walking side by side with the guard in the front, chatting about God only knows what. In fact, Darwin was talking to the very same guard that had locked his arrow on her in a tight hallway less than an hour ago.

None of that mattered though. All that was important now was the fact that there wasn’t a single reflective surface in even one of these corridors that would let her see Darwin’s face again. She just couldn’t shake it. Horns. He has horns! she kept thinking. It doesn’t make any sense. Well, it makes sense given that he’s a Demon, but it doesn’t make sense given he didn’t have them before the gas. How is it that everyone else passes out, and Darwin grows horns? Kass thought, baffled by what was going on. Were the horns a reaction to some event in Tiqpa that I missed?

No matter how much she tried to puzzle it out, she couldn’t find herself resting on any one idea or conclusion regarding Darwin’s transformation. All she knew was that she couldn’t take her eyes off the new additions to his head. They were so weird, yet so cool. Darwin may have been a Demon for as long as she had known him, but now he actually had the horns to go with it. Coupled with his red eyes and already large physique, he was shaping up to be a real devil.

“Big sis, what happened with Darwin?” Minx asked, bumping into Kass again. It was like she had no sense of personal space when she walked. Kass was almost sure the reason Kitchens always rested his hand on her head when the two were walking was to establish where he was relative to her so that she wouldn’t run him off the road doing one of her impromptu impersonations.

“I’m just as curious as you are. I have no idea why he grew horns,” Kass said, still trying her best to look for any reflection that would let her see him again.

“Not his horns, him. Look at him. Earlier he was all--” She bit into fake cookies and then did a smiling head swing side to side, “but now he’s all--” she folded her arms over her chest, pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow.

“Are you sure? He doesn’t look grumpy to me,” Kass thought, unsuccessfully trying to listen in on him now too.

“That’s cause you’re too busy checking to see how horny he is,” Minx said, causing Kass to giggle a bit. It was wrong, but every time Minx talked about how horny Darwin was, she couldn’t help but snicker.

“I’m still not convinced he’s grumpy. I mean, sure, we got poisoned, but everyone came out okay, right?” Kass asked, looking at Darwin’s bathrobe. Everyone came out okay . . . and your white bathrobe is soaked red. His bathrobe is . . . completely soaked in blood. Ugh, how did I not notice that sooner? Kass wanted to hit herself. In the game, holes or injuries to an armor almost always repaired themselves within seconds to minutes, mainly as a precaution put in to stop people from having inappropriate body parts flying around, but blood stains could take hours to fade. Sometimes a player could spend an entire day with blood stains on their outfit.

It wasn’t just on his sleeves or splattered on him either. It was a deep soak, almost as if . . . As if it had come from his own injured body. It didn’t make sense to see it in huge blotches across his legs and abdomen without much spray elsewhere.

“See, big sis! I know that face. You see what I’m talking about! Minx the Lynx is right again!” Minx said, smiling in a way that made it look like she was showing her teeth to the dentist, “But he’s scary again now.”

“He’s scary again?” Kass asked, becoming confused even more.

“Yeah, he was scary earlier . . . like he was going to eat me, and now he’s scary again,” Minx said. “He’s not going to eat me, is he?”

“No matter how horny he gets,” Kass assured her.

“Okay okay. If big sis says so,” Minx said, and then nuzzled into Kass as they were walking. “Comfy sis.”

Darwin, what did you do to scare Minx to death earlier? What did you do while we were passed out, she thought, watching his back. Why does your back seem so much bigger than it used to?

They came to a dead stop when the archers and Darwin arrived at a giant pair of wooden doors at what felt like the end of a mile-long walk. “We’re here,” Louie said, opening one of the doors for Darwin.

Kass wasn’t able to see exactly what was going on at first, still being a ways from the room, but what she did make out instantly was the leader. Everyone else was wearing some off-brown uniform like they were less archers and more rice farmers, whereas the man in the middle, sipping tea and talking to two other men, was wearing a full samurai outfit like he was straight out of a ronin movie. As soon as Darwin entered the room, he dropped his tea cup on the table next to him and stood up while pulling on his mask.

“Who dares intrude on the gre--”

“Weak,” Darwin said in one word, ignoring the man’s attempt at a boastful introduction.

Kitchens looked at Darwin, just as surprised as Kass was. What are you doing, Darwin? Kass thought, watching Darwin push out his chest and walk arrogantly into the room.

“What was that? How dare you t--”

“I said, ‘Weak.’ As in you’re weak. As in you would be dead right now, scattered like bits of flesh across the ground, if not for my generosity,” Darwin said, walking closer to the little, would-be warlord.

Minx tugged on Kass’s dress and whispered, “See, big sis. He’s scary again.”

This is not Darwin. Darwin doesn’t talk like this. He gives rousing speeches. He inspires men. He leads men; he cares for men. This is not how Darwin talks, Kass thought as she watched the spectacle.

The two men that the leader was talking to started to protest, started to say “wait” or “stop” or something, but as soon as they got up to reach for Darwin, he took his sword and slammed it into the ground. “Move again, and I will butcher everyone here,” he said, staring at the two.

“Young man, what is the meaning of this?” the masked samurai shouted.

“Darwin, honey draws more flies than vinegar,” Kitchens cautioned from the doorway.

Everyone had crowded in at the door, but neither the four archers nor Darwin’s three companions had entered.

Darwin didn’t even acknowledge that Kitchens had spoken. “Your men, they threatened to kill my friends. I forgave that. Their incompetence--it almost cost me and my friends our lives on our way to see you. I forgave that too. But,” he paused, looking around at the scene where the three men had been casually drinking tea, “this I cannot let slide. I was almost killed defending the lives of my friends and your men while you were, what? Casually sipping tea? Playing war in the back, dressed up for battle?”

“Young man, we weren’t just sipping tea, we were talking abou--”

“If you interrupt me again, I will rip your tongue out and make you eat it right here, right now. Have I made myself clear?” Darwin said, his eyes pulsing a red that Kass could see all the way from the door without even having a good angle on his face. Minx, also clearly noticing the eyes, had grabbed onto her dress and was holding it as if her life depended on it.

This isn’t Darwin, Kass just repeated to herself, unable to process the actions of the man in front of her. This isn’t Darwin.

The leader under the mask stayed silent, gulping under the threat.

“Speak now, boy. Have I made myself clear?” Darwin’s voice pushed the man back again.

“Ye . . . Y es, yes, you’ve made yourself clear,” he stuttered, shaking a little as he spoke.

“Just so you don’t forget, here’s a reminder,” Darwin said, pulling out a spoon and stabbing the handle through the man’s armor into his arm. As he started to yell in pain, Darwin put a finger to his lips and another hand on the sword he still carried.

Darwin! Kass found herself containing a muted scream. Part of her had thought it was all a bluff, that he was only acting tough, but as soon as the spoon had pierced flesh, she knew it was real.

“Now, you see, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them. I already know the answer to most of them, so keep in mind that every time I think you are lying, I’m going to stab you. Do you understand? Nod if you understand.”

The man nodded vigorously.

“First question: how long have you been working for the Panda King? Go on. Answer me,” he said, tapping the spoon in the Daimyo’s arm.

“I don’t work fo--” Before he could finish his denial, Darwin had pulled out his blade and stabbed the man’s leg, leaving it in for a second and then pulling it back out.

“That’s bad. You lied to me on the first question,” Darwin said, looking down at the man who had fallen from his chair to the floor as he grabbed the wound on his leg in pain. “Let’s try again, but without the lies. How long have you been working for the Panda King?”

Everyone sat in silence. Even the archers, who had previously looked like they wanted to stab Darwin themselves--even the guards, who had gritted their teeth as he waltzed around like he owned the place--all of them were now docile and quiet, staring at the wounded man on the ground.

“A year before the organization started,” he coughed.

“See? The truth wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” Darwin said, nudging the victim with his foot. “Second question: why does the Panda King want me dead?”

“I don’t know,” the man said, and as Darwin pulled his sword up in exaggerated preparation for stabbing him again, the samurai pleaded further. “I swear! I don’t know! I swear he just sent word an hour before you came that he was going to send some people by to dispose of you.”

“Did he tell you that my mission was to kill you?” Darwin asked.

“No, no, he didn’t. He just said you’d be coming by to talk and to have my best guards ready to kill you if his team failed . . .”

“Louie, Reginald . . . Guys, guess what. You’re the best guards here,” Darwin shouted back in an out-of-the-blue cheerful tone at the four archers. “Congrats.” Then, he turned back to the main on the floor. “Third question: how do you communicate with him?”

“He sends messages via a drop spot outside. He always lights two fires side by side and, when it’s time to read them, I exit the cave through the secret tunnel and check the drop. If someone spots me, I just say I thought I saw enemy movement.”

“I see. So there isn’t any way for him to know if I killed you, is there? There isn’t any way for him to know if I completed my mission or not?”

“Well, no, but . . .”

“Fourth and last question: do you have anything to offer, anything at all, that might be useful enough to stop me from killing you?” Darwin asked, holding his sword with one hand and stroking the blade with the other.

“Uh . . . He . . . He was my accomplice!” the samurai fingered the man he had been drinking tea with next to him. “He’s also a spy!”

After trying to pass the buck, the samurai didn’t say anything. He just stared, his face drained of all color, for a good minute or two. After that, Darwin stabbed the wanna-be daimyo right through the heart. He then waited a minute longer, pulled his sword out, and cut the wretch’s head clean off his slumped body.

“Was that necessary?” Kitchens asked, his eyes following the rolling head.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t piece it all together too.”

“I put together enough, but did you have to kill him?

Kass wanted to join the conversation and ask what the hell was wrong with him, but now that she could actually see his face, she couldn’t find the words. The horns were the least intimidating part of his visage. The eyes that seemed to glow red more than just be red gave off a feeling that just unsettled her. That’s not Darwin, she said to herself again. She started to feel like a broken record, but, even so, it was because there was definitely something broken about what she was seeing.

“Yes, I did, Kitchens,” Darwin said, picking up the head. “I have people in that city, people that will be slaughtered if the King moves against them too quickly. If the King thinks we are a tool to be used, that we still have a function, and he can get rid of us with the next assignment . . . he won’t act right away.”

“Ah, right. I forgot that you’re ‘Great Lord Darwin,’” Kitchens said. Kass wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic. “So you’re going to murder everyone here and bring back the trophy?”

“No. The way I figure it, we only have to bring one head. There’s no way the King will know if we killed everyone or not. The rest of these people will join us in our march for a new home.”

“You think they’ll join you right after you killed their old leader?”

“It’s their choice, but the other option is to have their towns razed and be butchered on the spot. Without their leader playing patsy, selling out to the King while pretending to be good for the cause, it’s only a matter of time before the King marches every able body he can find to wipe them off the face of the earth,” Darwin said nonchalantly as he carried the head towards the big doors.

“They might not trust you or believe the story. It might just be your word against a dead man’s,” Kitchens continued.

“Devil, sir . . . Umm, I mean, Darwin,” Louie spoke this time. “What will happen to us now?” The archer was standing next to his three friends and the innocent guy.

“Well, likely, it’s just like I told Kitchens. Without the patsy pulling the strings, you’re going to be marched on by the Panda King.”

“Yeah, but,” Reginald looked at Louie, and they both exchanged a bit of a nod, “you said there was a way out of that, right? You said there was another option to your friend, didn’t you?”

“He did. That he did, Reginald,” Steve said, nodding. “He said, and not to misquote you on this, Mr. Darwin Devil, but he, I mean you, said--” Stevens paused, cleared his throat excessively, and then began speaking in a perfect Darwin impersonation, “‘the rest of these people will join us in our march for a new home.’”

“You’re right, Steve, he did say that. But, that option is only valid if we actually, fearing for our lives, choose to follow this clearly devilish man,” Louie began, “and, of course, in the case that we believe his claim about this being our only option if we indeed wish to live.”

“Hmm, interesting point. Given our praise to and admiration of a proper diety that promises us eternal salvation upon death, we really shouldn’t be concerned with that outcome, should we? It would invalidate the motivation for joining this proper devil gentleman.”

“That’s right. We really shouldn’t be afraid of death. In fact, hypothetically, it should be something we celebrate to the point of seeking it out.”

“Indeed. I mean, this life is supposed to be something hellish in comparison to what’s all said in the holy writings; so, death, especially a noble one of fighting for a special cause, should definitely be a nice relief. It would almost guarantee us a place in that fancy paradise.”

“Right, right. So, you wanna go with the dying option?”

“Oh, heck, no! I haven’t been to a weekly service in over two years. I’m going to follow the random devil guy.”

“But, can you trust him?” They just kept talking, completely ignoring the other five people in the room. Even Minx shrugged.

“He did figure out our boss was working with the bad guy,” Steve said, looking at the decapitated body. “That’s got to count for something.”

“Okay, my lots in with him too. Let’s go round up the others and tell them the options,” Reginald said, patting Louie on the arm as they started leaving. “I just hope the new place has better uniforms. I’m really getting tired of this ugly color. It’s just so bl . . .” The voices of the four trailed off, Kass unable to hear them as they got too far away.

“They weren’t going to ask you about it at all, were they?” Kitchens almost laughed.

“I don’t think so, but at least they were interesting,” Darwin said.

“They were. I’m guessing if all they do is wait at an entrance all day, they have a lot of time for philosophy,” Kitchens thought out loud.

“Yep. Anyways, what do you want to do with the other traitor?” Darwin said, nodding his head toward the man our little warlord had called out earlier. “Kill him?”

“Might as well,” Kitchens said, as he sliced him in two with his katana, not even waiting for a discussion on the subject. “But, the real question is: do you think this plan will work? What if the Panda King finds out that we didn’t kill all the bandits and we are on to his scheme?”

“Hmmm, in that case, we’d end up having to fight our way through to reconnect with the faction; but, that’s a scenario that’s likely going to occur one way or the other regardless. This at least keeps cards on the table,” Darwin said, holding up the severed head in order to signal exactly what he meant.

Kass, still staring at the head and trying to put her thoughts together, found herself just going with the flow and making excuses for Darwin’s actions. It wasn’t like Darwin wanted to kill that guy. He only did it because he had to in order to protect the people of Valcrest. There is no way Darwin would murder someone in cold blood for no reason, she told herself as the four of them left the room and started heading back towards the city. Darwin just isn’t the type to murder someone in cold blood, she thought again.

This thought persisted all the way until she exited the ore mine and saw the scene ahead. The pleasant, scenic entrance that had been there before had changed from greens and browns to reds and blacks. The ground was covered with the bodies of what looked like a dozen Feline ninjas, their limbs and bodies ripped apart in a rather gorish fashion. She knew the cuts too. She knew exactly what person had left such wounds on his enemies like that, splitting them roughly like a butter knife sawing into bread.

“Impressive,” Kitchens said as the four of them walked closer to the scene. “My thanks again.”

“Wuuuuhhhhh? Mister mister, was that you? Did you do this? Did you kill them all?”

“No, Minx,” Darwin said, walking up to and staring at the body of one particular Feline Ninja. “I think that, this time, they killed me.”

“But, mister, you’re still alive, and they’re dead! What do you mean?” Minx asked again, but Darwin was just quietly staring at the body. After a minute, Minx came up to him and pulled on his shirt. “Mister, what do you mean, mister? I don’t understand.”

“Minx, leave him to his thoughts,” Kitchens called out, summoning Minx back to him like a master calling for his dog to return. “We’ll be back on the road in a minute.”

Kass frowned. Even she wanted to understand what Darwin meant. Darwin, what happened to you? she thought, her brain rejecting half the pieces of the puzzle and leaving her unable to put the whole picture together. She knew she was ignoring details, but she had to. After all, Darwin just isn’t like that.

Darwin:

“There you go. You’re one of us now,” Darwin said to Minx as he welcomed her to the faction. Kitchens had kept his word to join them if Minx still wanted to after they finished the mission, and Minx had harassed him about it the second they had left the cave. Kitchens at first had said, “Is the mission over?” and tried to dodge the topic altogether, but Minx had insisted it must be done because the objective was completed.

“Yay! Minx the Lynx is going to become the cutest girl in the StormGuard Alliance,” Minx said, cheering to herself.

“Hey, that’s not fair to say. What about me?” Kass interrupted, frowning a bit.

“It’s okay, big sis. You can be the second cutest,” Minx said, smiling as if she had already won the title and prize.

Darwin waited for Kass to protest, entirely expecting her to abuse her faction position and make Minx call her ‘Lady Kass’ instead of ‘big sis,’ but all she did was noogie Minx a little bit and then go back to playing. It was fun to watch them playing like that. The extent of his fun had always been reduced to simple point and click with the occasional keyboard stroke thrown in for good measure, but that was it. Having fun and playing games had always just been him, his monitor, and his keyboard. The only thing that had ever lit up with excitement was the screen. He had found it amusing that no matter how many times he typed lol or roflmao or even lawl, it had all meant the same thing: he was mildly amused but not enough to actually generate a genuine laugh.

“I’m surprised you haven’t put that in a bag or maybe even in your inventory, assuming that’s possible,” Kitchens said, noting the head Darwin was carrying.

“It needs to be visible,” Darwin answered. He didn’t know how Scouts worked, but if they functioned anything like Daniel had suggested, they were fast as lightning and would be reporting his coming long before he actually reached the gates. He needed to make sure he could gauge the reaction.

“I understand. But, if you could, perhaps you might try to keep it away from Minx’s field of view,” Kitchens said, looking at Minx as she walked ahead of them.

“Sure, no problem. If she turns around, I’ll try to keep it a bit behind my back.”

“My thanks.”

“So, you understand what the plan is, right?”

“Right. Turn in contract, get reward, clear dungeon, get another reward.”

“I don’t think your new boss has any cool items to give you as a reward.”

“Hmm. Rewards can come in many shapes and sizes; and, sometimes, the task itself is also the reward.”

“Oh, so you are expecting good feelings as your reward for helping us clear the dungeon?”

“Actually, I was hoping for Gold,” Kitchens laughed. “Then again, perhaps you stole more cookies than I noticed. Perhaps there is an alternative form of payment.”

“I see, so you’re saying that I can appeal to your sweet tooth to bribe you into killing random mobs in a dungeon?”

“So you understand.”

“Hmm,” Darwin thought. He wants me to bribe him with gold or cookies, ey? “Well, I’m not sure either of those are the real options. You see,” Darwin said, a wicked smile spreading across his face, “there is the option that you come with us, join in the faction activities and kill, loot and plunder a new dungeon to your heart's content with your new brothers in arms. Or, and this is the fun option, you could just stay here. Just wait for the Panda King’s scouts to report movement of the still-living bandit populace, and then hope he is the kind and forgiving type who will excuse our treachery.”

Kitchens’ face sunk down a bit, “I see. You’ll make a fine leader one day, Mr. Fire.”

“Let’s hope that one day is incredibly far away and luck carries me perfectly all the way there,” Darwin thought, his mind flashing back to his death again. It hung there perpetually. He constantly felt the blood draining from wounds that had long since healed. Even as he walked, Darwin found himself touching the holes where the blade had entered him, the wounds that had left his life hanging in limbo, only to be revived by the grace of a skill he didn’t fully understand.

What if I don’t have any soul charges next time? What if I get killed from a dagger to the back or their poison works next time? Darwin found himself worrying. What happens if the skill doesn’t activate, or I find myself the victim of common PKs trying to troll people coming out of a dungeon. PKs that out-leveled me because I was too busy concerning myself with politics, with whether or not I’ll die, with quests that have long walk times and no experience rewards, and I fail to grind properly?

Looking at Kitchens, knowing that he was likely at or higher than his Level, Darwin felt fear again. If just three or four people at Kitchens’ Level were to oppose us, we’d be massacred on the spot. The only way we’d live would be if . . . Stephanie. Will I have to lean on her again? Will I have to lean on her at every turn? Can I even rely on her? Because of her condition, she can’t even go out in public with me. I’d have to either level with her alone and lose all chances of gaining EXP due to our Level differences or simply write her off as a defense mechanism. It’s a lose-lose situation to rely on her until I get closer to her abilities unless she can power level me--a thing that brings in its own mob of dangers.

“What ails you?” Kitchens asked.

“I’m still concerned about the Panda King,” Darwin said, deciding not to tell Kitchens that he was worried he might die in the game, and that death might be real. The last one sure felt real even if the skill undid it.

“Hmmm. To run to the mountains, to fortify against attack and prepare yourself to withstand the blows of battle--this is a good plan you have. It is also the way of the earth, and you are . . . fire. Where the earth knows only patience, where it strikes out with rooted growth when the opportunity presents itself, seeding battlefields long forgotten and withstanding the test of time, a fire will know only hunger,” Kitchens began, folding out philosophical advice in one of the longest single string of words Darwin had ever heard from him. “A flame will only live so long as its hunger is sated. Therefore, it must attack on all fronts, at all times, consuming any morsel or scrap won from battle. What you are doing, these actions, this is defensive. Where the earth has the luxury of knowing both rhythm and timing, the fire will constantly pressure the opposition, controlling the flow of battle.”

“So, I should pressure the Panda King? Control the flow of battle? Is that even possible, given that he is likely a much higher Level than all four of us?” Darwin tried to get specifics out of Kitchens. Kitchens had no idea how right he was about ‘hunger.’ It had already occurred once since the battle, and the pain and urges were far worse this time than before his death. It felt like a thirst that couldn’t be quenched. Before, when it had struck, impulsively pushing him to attack something nearby, it had faded away. This time it lingered. This time, even Kass looked like a juicy, soul charge steak.

“No, you should not. If a fire approaches stone on one side, and grass on the other, it bends and flows to eat the grass. Only then can it grow powerful enough to reach any food that might be protected by the stone.”

“So, I need to feed my hunger until it grows large enough to consume the Panda King or else know that the rocks will always be strong enough to protect against my flames?”

“Very good.”

“Thanks. That may indeed be the best course of action.”

“It’s the one I recommended.”

“Yes, yes, it is,” Darwin said, amused by the swordsman’s confidence. “You’re really into this element stuff, aren’t you?” Darwin asked, remembering how when they first met Kitchens had classified him as an element.

“Nature is the deadliest of all predators. If man understands his own nature, he can understand the lessons it offers.”

“He can’t use the lessons from the other elements?”

“I’ve seen it done, but it’s best, in general, if fish don’t try to fly, and birds don’t try to dive beneath the waters. Knowing yourself is important because it lets you understand the path you must choose to achieve your ends.”

“Well, either way, I don’t think you’re wrong this time. I do need to get bigger. I also have a feeling that the game was designed with the panda’s Level being effectively fixed, given we don’t usually see NPC rulers ever leaving their regal thrones to go hunting monsters and clearing dungeons. Not to mention, the distance he is willing to travel to attack us is probably also limited. So I either need to increase my own Level or increase my distance from him,” Darwin mused, still worried that his duties, job and tasks would prevent him from leveling well.

“Indeed. Now, about that gold,” Kitchens smiled.

“You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

“Money is scarce when you must take care of a Minx.”

“Minx will be fine, but if you really want to earn some gold, you should help me figure out why the Panda King wants us dead to begin with,” Darwin said, a little unhappy that the mystery still hadn’t been solved. At first, he had thought that it was merely routine, getting rid of evidence, but now he was slightly concerned it was something more than just covering up the fact he had hired someone to do his dirty work.

Walking through the gates and into the city, they weren’t able to make it more than a few blocks before the Panda King popped up out of nowhere. He had a ridiculously big smile on and was followed by two tiger guards as he approached.

“Darwin! Kitchens! Kass! Minx! What luck to see you all alive, safe and in one piece,” the Panda King said, stretching out both arms as if he were going to attempt to hug them all. “Ah, I see you also bring me good tidings The bandit king is dead.”

Darwin looked at the head. “He didn’t even really put up a fight,” Darwin said, recounting the events in a way that made it so he wouldn’t have to lie.

“That’s great news. I trust you didn’t run into any trouble along the way?” the King probed.

He wants to know if the ninjas betrayed his plan. He probably already knows they died, so if I lie about that part, he’ll suspect something. “Well, it seems that some cats were hired to stop us, probably on the same side as the bandit king. They didn’t make it though, and I was uninjured at the end of our confrontation.”

The Panda King’s smile wavered for a moment. It wasn’t much, just a brief moment, but the grin definitely flickered and betrayed his disgust with that last detail as Darwin spoke it. “I see. Excellent news as well. Now, I believe I promised you all a reward?”

“Is serving an honest King not reward enough?” Darwin said purposefully, looking at the greedy Kitchens who was still trying to leverage cookies and gold out of him.

“You are a blessing to the realms, young ones, but I must bestow upon you the merits you have earned. Here, a second token to the armory,” the Panda King said, tossing a coin at each of the four adventurers, “as we agreed.”

Darwin looked at his token and then looked at Kitchens. Their thoughts were likely both the same: we must go get our prize as soon as possible. “You honor us with this gift, King Robin. We shall not forget such gracious hospitality,” or how you tried to murder us.

“Think nothing of it, young one, but perhaps after you are done picking out some weapons, you could come by the palace? There is another task I could use your help with,” the Panda King said as he wore the same ear to ear grin he always did when speaking.

“There are a lot of things we must do while in town, Your Excellency. Perhaps you will be patient in waiting for us?” Darwin offered, still doing his best not to lie. If there was anything he knew, it was that he was a bad liar. That’s why with every word he spoke, he tried to keep it as close to the truth as possible.

“I shall be waiting, indeed. I look forward to your arrival,” the King said, giving a little head nod and then departed with his two guards.

The second they weren’t in earshot of the King though, Kass spoke first. “You’re not really going to take anoth--”

“Kass,” Kitchens interrupted her. “Where are we?”

Kass’s face scrunched up for a minute, then released in an ‘ah-ha’ moment. “Sorry,” she said, looking around. “I was just thinking we should get those weapons and check in with Alex as soon as possible.”

“I think we’re all in agreement on that.”

“I WANT DAGGERS! Pretty daggers! Maybe even magic daggers! But not ones that talk to me. If they talk to me, then people will think I’m crazy,” Minx said. “Unless they are nice-people daggers who just give me compliments every time I kill someone, saying things like ‘Well done,’ ‘Nice haircut,’ ‘That dress is pretty on you,’ or ‘You are a very smart lady.’ That type of talking magic daggers would be fine.”

“I’m just hoping for a weapon that does more damage than my current swords. I’ve been using them for a long while now.” Darwin frowned at his Burriza’s Blades.

“You’re not going back to axes are you? With the horns, that may be a bit too evil-looking,” Kass noted. “We’d have to invest in a PR campaign just so people wouldn’t run away the moment they saw you.”

“You mean my good looks alone aren’t enough?” Darwin asked, holding his chin up to show off what he thought was his ‘best side.’

“Yeah . . . Do you think we could afford the type of marketing that’d be needed to save Darwin’s image?” Kitchens asked, ignoring Darwin’s reply.

“Maybe . . . We’d have to get everyone in the faction to contribute, but we might be able to come up with something,” Kass said, giggling as she conspired about Darwin right in front of him.

“In Japan, they use kawaii yuru-kyara to make things appealing. Yuru-kyara is a cute mascot! There should be a Darwin mascot!” Minx added this time, butting in between the two as they walked.

Darwin just frowned. He knew that no matter what he said, they would keep talking as if he wasn’t there anyway. After all, this wasn’t the first time people talked about him in front of his face without acknowledging him.

“What would that even be?” Kitchens asked curiously.

“I’m thinking a giant spoon. A big silvery-gold-colored one that carries around two butter knives and has forks for arms and legs,” Kass offered.

“Should the spoon also wear a bathrobe?” Kitchens asked.

“Well, it wouldn’t be a mascot for Darwin if there weren’t at least one bathrobe involved,” Kass answered.

“You could go the other direction. Make a short imp with a bathrobe running around with two spoons! Make him super red and have horns that constantly cause him to fall backwards or forwards,” Minx said, holding her hands up like horns and pretending to fall backwards because of them.

“A mascot might not be enough,” Kass said, nudging Minx. “We need something more.”

“My mom always said mean, ugly and scary people get famous from sex tapes! It worked for Ms. Skin-and-Bones and the three gypsy sisters,” she said. “So, it should work for Darwin too, right? We should get Darwin to make a sex tape!” Minx suggested, jumping up and down.

“Umm, do you know what a sex tape is?” Kass asked.

“Well . . . First, there are bees, and then--” Minx started, drawing out a look of panic on Kass and Kitchens’ faces.

“That’s enough of that. Now, what about a charity? Even the most evil of people get away with looking nice once they donate to charity,” Kitchens chimed in.

“Yeah, that’s a good point. Maybe have a billboard in the middle of town, ‘Darwin! The face of feeding starving orphans!”

“Are there starving orphans in a videogame?” Minx asked. “Should we feed them?”

“Knowing Darwin, if there were any starving orphans in this game, he’d have scooped them up and put him in his faction the second he found out,” Kass said, nudging Darwin this time. “He’s just that type of guy.”

“So that’s where my gold and cookies went,” Kitchens said.

“Gold and cookies?” Minx looked up at Kitchens. “You had gold and cookies?”

“No, Minx, I didn’t, but not for a lack of trying.” Kitchens seemed to frown slightly, but it was hard for Darwin to tell.

“We’re here,” Darwin said, thankful he finally had a means to break up the ongoing gabfest about him. “This is the right armory, yeah?”

“It appears so,” Kitchens said as the four of them entered the large building. While everything was very Asian throughout the town, the royal armory could have fit in anywhere. It was just a big, simple, two-story square building with the word ‘Armory’ on top and four guards at the gate. As they started entering the building, they held up their tokens to show that they had reason to be inside it, and the guards uncrossed their halberds and let them pass through without so much as a word.

When they got inside, everything was broken down into sections. There were what looked like a hundred carbon copies of each weapon or piece of armor, and they were further sorted by type.

“Darwin! Darwin! Look at this one!” Kass called over. Darwin instinctively looked to the spot she had been, and then to the spot she was, still a bit shocked she had managed to disappear and find the section with staves so quickly. The one she was excitedly shouting over looked almost exactly like the one she currently had. It was another staff with a blue sapphire at the top, but the only difference was the actual staff itself was white, not dark, and it was plain and smooth with no etchings or designs.

“Is it better than the one you have?”

“What? Of course it is! It almost triples the current stats. This one will boost my Spirit and Concentration by 50 points each. It even has 20 Vitality! It’s the same for my stats as if I had leveled up twenty times!” She was almost jumping for joy. “And I still get to pick out a piece of armor! Oh, my god! Darwin! This is payday!” She said, jumping in place even more than Minx usually did. “I’m going to find a dress! No peaking! I saw them on my way to the staves. They looked so hot! I can’t wait try one on!”

As Kass tore off in the direction of where the defensive gear was, Darwin went around looking at the different weapons himself. He had been happy with the two Burriza’s for a while, but they hadn’t been upgraded in what felt like forever. As he walked through the sword section, he found Kitchens debating between two katanas that, to Darwin, only differed in the color of their hilts.

“What’s the difference between the two?” Darwin asked,

“The red hilt emphasizes Power. It has a higher Damage and a bonus of 35 points to the Power stat. The blue hilt emphasizes Speed. It has lower Damage than the red hilt, but has a 40 point boost to the Speed stat. Finally, that green hilt over there has the least amount of Damage, but has a 50 point boost to Vitality,” Kitchens said, still playing around between the red and blue hilts.

“I take it you’re not interested in the Vitality one?” Darwin said, seeing that none of them had even been moved an inch from their display on the racks.

“If I were worried about getting hit, I probably would have picked up one of the many Speed-restricting armors,” Kitchens said, not taking his eyes off the blades.

“Maybe you should just pick the blue one then. It’s the color of your favorite element: water. Not to mention, your style seems very dependant on being faster than the opponent.”

“That was my thought at first, but the red one would make it more likely that I could one-shot-kill an enemy.”

“Hmm, well, whatever you say. I should probably go check out long swords and axes,” Darwin said, walking off towards Minx and the other melee weapons as Kitchens stopped him.

“This red blade’s Damage is only 195. Isn’t your blade stronger?”

“How could you tell?”

“I counted the number of times you had to hit them with your no-style attacks. If the stat boost on your blade is existent at all, you may want to consider a necklace or ring. Any weapon you pick will likely be a downgrade in comparison,” Kitchens said.

“Thanks for the tip,” Darwin said. Deciding to heed his advice, he started to turn and walk towards the jewelry section when Minx saw him.

“Darwin! Darwin! Which one looks cooler?” Minx said, calling him over to where the daggers were.

“These are all ‘woosh woosh woosh,’ and this one is all ‘wheoooo wheoooo,’” she said, spinning two different daggers around.

The only problem for Darwin though, trying to think of which one might suit her better, was that they were both red-hilted daggers. Whereas there had actually been a difference in Kitchens’ weapon decision, these were identical. It was likely the case that even the stats were the same. “Ummm, you should go with the ones that are all pew pew pew,” Darwin finally answered, unsure if his answer would even make sense to her.

“Okay! Thanks, mister, but don’t the people with the weapons that go ‘pew pew pew’ always die and never hit anything?”

“Oh, yeah, they do. You should go for the ‘woosh woosh woosh’ ones then,” Darwin said.

“Thanks again, mister! What are you going to get?”

“Me? I’m not sure yet. I’ll figure it out soon, I guess.”

“You should get a piece of armor. Then you won’t look so silly. Maybe a good pair of boots. Everything in life is about a good pair of shoes! That’s what my best friend Sally says.” Minx nodded to herself, then looked at Darwin’s slippers, then nodded to herself again. “Good shoes are a good investment!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Darwin responded, leaving Minx to her clearly hard decision as he made his way to the jewelry section. He currently had one of the best items there was, not that any of his teammates noticed. The Captain’s Emblem gave all his allies a 5% boost in their stats as well as raising the Levels of NPCs by five. But his ring only added +10 to his primary three physical combat attributes, and he still had plenty of fingers and a neck to add enchanted items to. He might even find a good pair of boots, but for some reason his slippers of +10 Face Smashing had grown on him. They fit perfectly and were just as comfortable as they were worn.

When he got to the jewelry section, he found himself cringing with every piece. Whether they were gaudy, over-sparklish bands or necklaces with weird cliché designs like dragons, he just couldn’t stomach any of them. Finally, as if gravitating towards the only spot his eyes could look at without being blinded by a ridiculous set of stones, he saw a pair of simple iron bands.

He picked one of the rings up to inspect it, curious about what properties could have earned the pair a spot in the royal armory. The item was called the Ring of the Unkept Promise. Darwin looked at the title. What promise wasn’t kept? he asked himself. It wasn’t specific at all. What promise would be so great that it would justify the stats on this ring? He couldn’t understand as he stared at the bonuses: +30 Power, +30 Speed, -10 Vitality, +5% stats to the wearer of Ring of Broken Vows when in range. He picked up the other ring and inspected it immediately too: +30 power, +30 speed, -10 vitality, +5% stats to the wearer of Ring of the Unkept Promise when in range. Does this mean that if I wear both of the rings, I’ll get +10% to all stats on top of these bonuses? Darwin thought, looking at the two rings. He decided to give it a try.

First, he looked at his stats before putting on the first ring. At level 43, his base Power stat was 159 (3x43+30), and the current bonuses were +10 from the Ring of Power, +10 from the Captain’s Ring, +15 from his Bathrobe and +10 from each Burriza’s Blade. That left him with 214 Power currently. His Speed, also pretty high, was at 184 with the items he had on. He put on one of the rings, boosting his Power to 244 and his Speed to 214, but when he put on the second Ring, instead of his power just going up to 274 and his Speed just increasing to 244, the stats both jumped up to 301 and 268 respectively. Dang, that’s amazing. That’s about 40% more Power and 45% more Speed than I had before. Why has no one picked these rings up before me? Darwin found himself astounded. True, his Vitality took a hit from wearing them, dropping 20 points altogether, but the increase in Speed and Power seemed well worth the drop in hit points. After all, more Power also meant more Damage resistance. He didn’t hesitate to make up his mind right away. Every other ring had a rough 60 point increase and no negatives, but the 10% from wearing both of these was just too tempting to avoid, even if it did cost him a few points in Vitality.

“Tokens, sir,” said a Feline with a monocle and top hat who appeared out of nowhere as soon as Darwin stepped away from the ring display.

“Oh, yeah, here they are,” Darwin said, handing him the two tokens.

“Sir, in the future, please do not try on the merchandise without paying for it first. We do not run a charity here,” the Feline said, scoffing at the still overjoyed Darwin. “Not that anyone will mind if you failed to return those ugly, despicable trinkets, but they won’t want other more valuable accessories or items to be handled by a Human before buying them.”

Darwin frowned. A Human, huh? he wanted to say. He also wanted to hit the snotty, snobby Feline, but decided that he should avoid attacking someone when he couldn’t foresee all of the consequences.

“Now that you have no Tokens, please excuse yourself outside to some place where the rest of your peasant kind mingles. Your friends are already waiting, though I can’t imagine why two proud Felines would associate with you people.”

Do I really look like just a Human, even with the red eyes and horns? Darwin wanted to ask, but decided not to. The fact that he was being mistaken for a Human wasn’t the part of this encounter that was wrong, it was the fact that Humans were being looked down on so much. Since he was apparently the last one to make a decision and get an item, and everyone else was already waiting outside, he decided to head out and join them too.

When he walked outside, he saw the three of them, all wearing their new gear. So, a blue hilt for you, Kitchens, and a smaller blade to go with your katana? Still just red hilts for you, Minx, and . . . Wow, Kass, you look stunning, he mouthed to himself as he saw her sitting there in the same white dress but with a thin sapphire studded crown made of what looked to be just ice.

“It’s the Crown of the Ice Queen. Since I’m already wearing the ring, I thought I’d try on the crown and see if it gave me any additional bonuses for being in the same set, but before I could take it off that mean monopoly cat kicked me out. Said, ‘Humans shouldn’t touch things without buying them!’ What about you?” Kass asked as soon as she saw him emerge. “Did you get a cool pair of swords?”

“No, actually, I got a pair of rings.”

“Really? Cool! Let me see!” Kass said, rushing over and grabbing one of his hands. “Is that it? Just a plain metal band?”

“Yeah. Just a plain metal band, but the stats on it are pretty great.”

“That’s awesome. Anyways, let’s head back to the ship. We still need to get out of this town before--” Kass started before Darwin spoke up and cut her off.

“Kass, quiet. We’re still not alone,” Darwin said, placing a finger to his lips to signal a shush. Kitchens had been right to remind Kass of her surroundings earlier, but he probably wasn’t going to keep making the same point over and over again. “Now, let’s go.”

“Indeed. I’m looking forward to seeing my new comrades,” Kitchens said.

“They’re all great, you guys,” Darwin responded. “Y’all should get along real well.”

“Good to hear. Minx, let’s go meet our new friends.”

Chapter 6:  Errand Boy or Quest Master

Kass:

As Kass walked back up to the glass galleon, a look of terror crept over her face as her body came to a complete halt. Why . . . are they all . . . in bathrobes? she mouthed, stunned silent by the sight before her. Where she had expected to see them all in their usual gear, the gear they had worn since they left Valcrest, she found everyone in the same odd black bathrobe with a red sword and spoon symbol. Staring at the bathrobes, she couldn’t figure out exactly how she was supposed to respond.

“Umm . . . Darwin, before you left the ship earlier, did you order something?” she asked, doing her best to control her surprise. “Did you, you know, tell them they needed to change their uniforms?”

“No, but don’t they just look . . . AWESOME!” Darwin shouted happily, uncharacteristically so. “Holy crap, I kind of want my own with that design. Look at it, the flap and the cord. It’s like mine but black.”

“Hey, yours is supposed to be white to match mine, remember? We’re supposed to look like a team,” Kass said, slightly upset he seemed interested in changing that fact.

“Yeah, I know, and we look awesome, but come on, Kass. Even you have to admit that these bathrobes are really great. Hey, look! Even Valerie, Daniel and Mclean are wearing them!” Darwin was beside himself, actually laughing out loud at the myriad of bathrobe-wearing people in front of him.

Has he secretly been wanting this for a while? He’s been stuck in that bathrobe since he came to Tiqpa. I guess he was feeling alone or unfashionable, she thought as she watched his face light up like a Christmas tree.

“I must admit that the dress code of your faction is very interesting,” Kitchens said, scratching his chin in thought as the four of them walked up the board onto the galleon.

“Minx wants one too! Kitchens! Kitchens! Can I get one of the cool bathrobes too?” Minx was literally jumping up and down as they walked up the boarding ramp.

“You’ll have to ask Darwin about that.”

“Nuh uh! You get me one! You get one too! Then we can have matching ones! Just like them! Darwin’s is white; theirs are cool. Women look best in black. I need a black one! You need a black one!” Minx pulled on Kitchens’ tank top.

Kitchens looked at Darwin, who just shrugged and sort of nodded, and then the two said something to each other quietly. Kitchens just nodded to Minx and said, “Sure, I’ll get one for you,” and he put his hand back on her head and gave her the little affectionate noogie he always seemed to give her whenever they were walking side by side.

“You’re not going to try and make me wear one of those, are you?” Kass asked, looking at Darwin.

“Don’t worry, you look good in the dress you’ve got on. I wouldn’t try to change that,” he said, looking her up and down as he did. Kass found herself unsure how to take that compliment. “Alex!” Darwin then shouted, not giving Kass time for a witty reply. “Fill me in. What’s up with these new outfits?”

“Ah, Great Lord Darwin,” Alex said, bowing his head momentarily. “Forgive me for spending faction resources to manufacture these outfits without your permission. The people in the town wanted a tangible change other than the red eyes to show that we are one people, of one belief and one purpose. I hope that they are to your liking and that you will forgive our reckless expenditures.”

“To my liking? I love them! They’re incredible. Was this your idea?” Darwin asked, walking up and patting Alex on the back as he spoke. “Tell me whose idea this was. They deserve a medal or something. Do we have medals? Well, if we do, the first one needs to go to whoever came up with the idea for this uniform. This is . . . This is just great,” Darwin finished, his kid in a candy shop expression not fading one bit.

Alex, his face going from tensed up like a child expecting to be punished by his parents to relieved in an instant, beamed proudly. “Yes, this was my idea. I designed it myself. The two swords represent the weapons of our leader, and the spoon is the symbol that he himself wears.”

“Alex, if you ever quit being a General, you should consider taking up a job as a fashion designer. Your taste is impeccable,” Darwin complimented Alex even further, causing him to push his chest out even more than it was before.

“Right? They even made some for us too,” Daniel said, joining the conversation with his chest popped out and both hands holding on to his bathrobe’s collar. He was sporting a black one too. The only difference from the others was that it had space for him to fit his wings through. “I’m still pumped up about it. I thought leather armor was the way to go, but these have stat boosts with no stat penalties at all. It’s got +15 to all three physical attack stats, zero penalties to Speed, great flexibility, perfect style--Darwin, your man Alex is a genius.”

“Yep. Work of art it is,” Mclean came up, also holding her own bathrobe’s collar with both hands proudly just like Daniel. “I just need one for real life. Do you think we can get Alex to open up a store and sell them on that kick-something site?”

“Kick site?” Alex asked, scrunching his forehead up like he had just been given a calculus problem in the middle of a geometry class.

“You know, the website where people come together to give good projects a good kick in the right direction. It’s where--” Mclean stopped, then closed both her eyes like she was about to facepalm. Yep, Mclean, you’re talking to an NPC, Kass thought, noting that she had likely just realized an NPC wouldn’t know anything about websites.

“People gather around and kick good stuff? That doesn’t sound good at all. I’d rather not be kicked, Mclean,” Alex said, his brow still scrunched.

“Don’t worry about it. But she’s not wrong about there being a demand for this incredible outfit. You see, just today, I got two new members, and they already each want one. Isn’t that right?” Darwin asked.

Kass, still incredibly unsure of whether or not this was some elaborate prank where everyone was in on a joke that she didn’t get, found herself looking around at the outfits. How do people find this so great? she thought as Darwin queued up orders for Minx and Kitchens.

“Yeah! Yeah! There is one for Minx, right?!”

“Well, we didn’t actually know you would have two new members so soon,” Alex said, scratching his head. “But! Not to worry, Great Lord Darwin! We made extras just in case. We knew that, given your charismatic attitude and magnanimous nature, you would undoubtedly return with refugees or others needing help. It is just the way of such a great man, always seeking to take care of those less fortunate.”

“He really lays the compliments on thick, doesn’t he?” Kitchens whispered to Darwin just loud enough for Kass to overhear.

No, he’s actually just stating the truth. Darwin really is like that.

Darwin shrugged at Kitchen’s comment and then turned back to Alex. “You’re not wrong. We’re going to likely have a good number of extra people in the faction soon, but we’ll be picking them up outside the city, and I’m not entirely sure how many extra bathrobes we will need to outfit them all properly. How many extras do you have?”

“Around fifteen hundred, Great Lord Darwin. We were able to buy the material in bulk so the total bill, weapons included, was less than one thousand Gold,” Alex said. Kass was sure from the look of him that he was about to break out into a salute at any moment.

“Over fifteen hundred? And it only cost less than a thousand Gold?” Darwin spat out. Kass assumed it must have been from the shock of the price. His own bathrobe hadn’t been cheap at all; but, then again, it hadn’t been mass produced at cost, and the goods probably cost a lot more in a small city where merchants don’t often venture out than in a big city where every commodity is oversupplied. “Alex, you’re not just a design genius--you’re also a great merchant! That price per outfit is just as marvelous as the uniform itself.”

“Thank you, Great Lord Darwin. I am deeply honored by your praise,” Alex bowed his head again.

“No need to thank me. Just go get one for each of these two characters. The little one has been begging us since the moment she saw it,” Darwin said, still checking out the bathrobes.

“I have not been begging! I don’t beg!” Minx stamped her foot and insisted.

“You haven’t? Did you not want one? Alex. It’s okay. She doesn’t actually want one,” Darwin said, drawing obvious panic to Minx’s face.

“Oh, well, if the Great Lord Darwin says she doesn’t need one . . .” Alex looked a bit rejected, not realizing that Darwin was pulling a joke on Minx.

“What? No, no I want one! I want one!” Minx hurriedly clarified.

“Oh, so I was right. She did beg for one,” Darwin began, Minx quickly finding herself with her mouth agape, unsure of whether or not she should try to argue.

“Bu-bu-but--” she stammered.

“Did you or did you not want a cool, awesome bathrobe?” Darwin teased her further.

“I do,” she answered, head sunk. “But that’s not fair.”

“Great, then let’s get you the coolest, cutest one we can find. I trust you on this, Alex,” he said, patting Minx on the head just like Kitchens always did.

Kitchens, who had been watching the little exchange to much amusement, finally walked up to Minx and offered her words of comfort after her lost battle of wits. “Even Kings must beg their people for understanding, Minx. There is no harm in you asking for free stuff.”

“I didn’t beg,” Minx muttered, making sure that Darwin didn’t notice.

Kass, still beside herself at the ridiculousness of the bathrobes, just rolled her eyes at Minx’s plea to get a one. How can someone be that excited about a bathrobe? It’s like people getting worked up over a t-shirt with a meme on it. It just doesn’t make sense, she thought.

“There’s no need to fret, little one. I’ve already got your bathrobe right here. Go ahead and try it on,” Justin said, appearing out of thin air like Alex often did.

“I could really do with them not sneaking up on us all the time,” Kass said under her breath.

“What do you mean? Who snuck up on who?” Kitchens asked her as Minx was going through the bathrobes Justin was holding.

“He did. The one giving bathrobes to Minx,” Kass said as she looked at Kitchens with a lopsided frown. Did you not even notice him appear?

“No, he didn’t. He just matched his footsteps with others and swayed while he moved with the light,” Kitchens said back, arms crossed as he spoke. “One could see him coming from very far away.”

“That sounds like a fancy way to say he snuck up on us.” Kass’s frown grew worse. “You’re just describing what he did to prove you noticed it even though he was trying so hard.”

“So you understand,” Kitchens’ smug look broke into a grin and he went up to Justin, “So, may I have one as well, sir?”

“Of course! I have the perfect one for you!” Justin was just as happy as Alex and Darwin.

Wait, Darwin . . . Where did he go? Kass looked around, realizing all of the sudden that Darwin had disappeared somewhere while she was talking with Kitchens. The good thing for her though was that the ship was glass, and he was now the only person not wearing black. Spotting him was almost exactly like looking for a white dot on a black background. There you are. What are you doing over there? she thought, seeing him standing against one of the ship’s rails.

“Hey! Didn’t you want to wait and see what Kitchens and Minx looked like with new bathrobes?” Kass called out to Darwin as she walked up next to where he was standing on the side of the ship.

“No, I needed a break,” he said, his voice flatter than she had remembered it.

“A break?” Kass asked. “You mean from Minx and Kitchens? I thought you guys were getting along.”

“Not from them. From this. From all of this. I just wanted a moment to relax and not worry about the game,” he said.

That’s right. He doesn’t have an off-switch, a logout option. We’re all here out of choice, but he’s a prisoner of this world. Her face sunk as she remembered the context of their meeting. “You know, you can always talk to me if you want. I’m kind of still here for you whenever you need me, Darwin,” she offered, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Even if your wardrobe is questionable.”

“Kass, earlier . . .” he started, stopping only after two words. Kass wanted to interrupt him, ask him what was earlier, but the empty look on his face told her to wait, so she did. After a minute he finally started talking again. “Kass, earlier, I died.”

“Huh?” she found herself befuddled. What does that even mean?

“While you were all knocked out, I had to fight a group of the ninjas. There were eleven of them. During the fight, I took out a few, but they ended up killing me.”

“But you’re still here. Isn’t that good news? That means if you die, you’ll just revive like a player, right?” Kass said, confused as to why Darwin seemed upset about this.

“No. I’m here because of a passive ability. It eats charges to revive me, but it only works once an hour and only when certain conditions are met,” he explained, his eyes still holding the same hollow look.

“Oh . . .” Kass found herself at a loss for words. What up side is there to that now?

“Kass, when I died, it was horrifying. It was cold, empty, terrifying. I always thought in real life that when you die, you just kind of close your eyes and that’s that. I had imagined it as peaceful. This . . . This wasn’t peaceful or nearly as simple as closing your eyes. I don’t know if you’ve died in this game yet, but it was an experience I never want to feel again. It felt like all the warmth, love and joys of my life were being pulled out of me one at a time, and a cold, sharp, biting pain was filling their place. Then, the revival process . . . It wasn’t much better. It was even more painful.”

Even after he had finished his description, Kass just stayed quiet. She didn’t know what to say. People had died plenty of times in the game, but none of them had gone through what he had. It was always just a forced logout screen, and that was that. What he was describing sounded horrible. If people had to go through that, no one would ever buy the game. That empty look in his eyes, the hollow face, the cold and ruthless barbarism he had shown the leader--it was all starting to click in Kass’s head, and she found herself even more lost. Lacking any words to fill the air, she just moved her hand from one shoulder to another as she did her best to pull him into an awkward half hug as they stood by the railing. It took a moment, but he also reciprocated and pulled himself all the way into her arms.

After what felt like forever to Kass, he broke the hug, pushing her from him while holding onto both her shoulders. “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks for everything.”

“No problem. If you ever need to talk again just tell me. You don’t have to be all macho and bottle it up. No one will ever judge you for this type of stuff,” Kass assured him, patting his shoulder again.

No one will ever judge the true you because no one will ever understand you, she thought, feeling like the distance between the two had not only just shrunk, but, in a way, had also grown. The hug, the fact that he had opened up, the fact that she was able to comfort him, it was all good at closing the gap between them as friends, but the fact that she couldn’t even begin to empathize made her feel like a little wall had sprouted up between them. No matter how long they hung out, he was fighting for his life, and she was just playing a game.

“Thanks again,” he said, looking back towards the sea. “Now there’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m scared of dying again, and if I don’t level fast--and I mean real fast--the next time I fight ninja cats or karate turtles or whatever Tiqpa throws at me, I might die,” he said, watching another ship come in. “This is a nice step back from the fighting and grinding, but I need to be doing both of those things. I have to stay above everyone else. My life depends on it.”

“Well, there is an easy enough solution there. How about we just check in with Alex, wrap up on the boat stuff and then go clear that dungeon like there’s no tomorrow. We can go from dungeon to dungeon, just the four of us until we’re so high in Levels people will think we’re cheating.”

“You really think it’s that easy?” he looked at her, his face twisted sideways.

“I don’t see why not. Seems easy enough,” she said, purposefully smiling more than was natural. Smile with your eyes, Kass, or they won’t believe you.

“And the Panda King? Your new friend, Robin, I mean?” Darwin poked at the fact she had originally been so clueless as to his nefarious schemes.

I was the one who lead him on the quest that caused him to die. It clicked like a knife through the chest. I got him killed.

“Um, do we have to finish his quest just because we take it?” she asked, trying to offer him the only solution she knew. It was like when a creepy guy asked her on a date, and she wanted to say no, but he was too insistent. All she had to do was agree to it and then flake out when the promised time showed up.

“That’s . . . That’s not a bad idea. It’d buy us plenty of time to get Alex and them out of the town while we go clear the dungeon. We could meet back up where we left the so-called bandits, and then the whole faction can move into and fortify the new home together.

“Yeah, that’s the spirit! Let’s do it!” she almost shouted with the best enthusiasm she could muster and patted his back as hard as she could, but it only left her hand stinging and Darwin unmoved. What in Hades is he made of?

“Alright, let’s tell the others the plan and get a move on,” Darwin said, turning around, but then pausing for a moment. “Oh, and Kass, one more thing.”

“Yeah?” she asked as she looked up at him. Has he always been this tall?

“Thanks again,” he said, smiling, and the two of them walked back to the rest of the group.

Darwin:

Darwin tensed up as he and Kass passed the door to his quarters on the way back to the group. “Umm, Kass, I need to do something first. Just tell the others I’ll join them in a minute and let them know what we plan to do.”

Kass gave him a funny look for a minute and then just nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll let the others know our evil scheme.”

“Is it really evil?” Darwin said as he touched his horns. “Don’t tell me I’m actually turning evil too.”

“I’ll see you with the group, Darwin. Go take care of your stuff,” she laughed and walked away, leaving Darwin to stare at the door handle to the Captain’s quarters.

After a few seconds of nervously looking at it, he sighed, reached for it, and finally opened the door. All of the awkward tension from not being sure what to say to Stephanie about his horns or the fact he was leaving without her again the second he got back, even if it was just so that he could get Levels again, was for naught. She wasn’t there. He remembered that she said before he left that she had to take care of some stuff too; but, for some reason, he had kind of expected, maybe even hoped, she would be waiting when he got back. Instead, there was only a simple note written on college ruled looseleaf paper in fancy handwriting lying on his pillow.

He walked over to it, picked it up, and started to read.

Dear Darwin,

If you’re reading this then that means I’m dead. Kidding! I’m probably still out taking care of errands, but how dramatic would that be? It would totally be, like, one of those fancy-pants action movies, and you would have to, like, avenge me all hero style. I’d expect a cape. Actually, given there will probably be players who will try to kill me one day, you should be taking notes. I want you to be wearing a cape, and something really tight, like leather, that shows off those hot muscles and your cute ~ Wait, this letter needs to be PG-13 or it won’t make it into the live action movie. Anyways, remember that!

Now, just in case you beat me back to the cabin, please leave a map of where you’re headed so I can catch up to you later. Thanks, honey.

P.S.

Last night was really fun, I’ve been thinking about it all day ;-) ← Is it okay to write an emoji? Should I just draw a winky face instead? Will it end up as awkward like if you say “LOL” in real life in place of actually laughing? Get back to me on this.

Lots of kisses, XOXOXOXO

Stephanie.”

Darwin actually laughed a bit at the comment about people saying ‘LOL’ in real life. He couldn’t help but think of his old guild and that one annoying paladin who never actually laughed, but would constantly say LOL over the voice chat channel just to let everyone know he thought something was funny. That guy’s habit was strangely comforting though, like a reminder to Darwin that even after spending every waking moment that he wasn’t working playing games, he still wasn’t the biggest nerd in the guild--not that it would have been a bad thing.

I wonder what she’s been up to that she still isn’t back, Darwin thought, as he drew out a map for Stephanie. With her Level, what in this area could possibly take her more than a few minutes to handle?

After he finished the rough sketch of a map, the best one he could do with his limited knowledge of the area, he put in his own little note for Stephanie and left to go join the others. Walking back to the group, he felt a sense of joy that hadn’t generally come with the game so far. Sure, everyone here was a gamer just like like him, and he had played countless games before with groups of people, but this time it felt less like he was logging in with a bunch of guys to grind and more like he was about to go hang out with a group of friends and play, which was something he had never really gotten to do as a kid. Today will be a good day, he said to himself.

“Ah! Great Lord Darwin!” Justin shouted as Darwin came closer. “We were just informed of your decision.”

“Yes, we were, and I must protest the current plan. I know my rank does not allow such insubordination, Great Lord Darwin, but my conscience won’t let me send you off into another dungeon without adequate protection,” Alex said, his head ducked low as he maintained a bow throughout the protest.

“Well . . .” Darwin searched his head to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why he didn’t need protection. “Well . . . “ he started again, but this time Kass interrupted him.

“Would you feel more comfortable with him going if we took Fuzzy Wuzzy with us?” Kass asked.

Alex paused. “Alright, but you have to figure out how to get Fuzzy Wuzzy to wear his uniform. He won’t put it on.”

“Did you try putting it on for him?” Darwin asked, thinking about how hard it must be for a bear without thumbs to put on a bathrobe. He had thumbs and stood on two feet, and his bathrobe was still sometimes difficult to put on if only for the fact that the sash kept disappearing.

“We have, but he’s been grumpy since he last left the Great Lord’s presence. While he’s been incredibly helpful with the preparations, he’s just not been cooperative with much else. Perhaps if you insist, he’ll wear one.”

“Wait, Fuzzy Wuzzy can talk?” Daniel asked, eyes wide. “I thought he just growled. Those growls aren’t words are they?”

“What, you didn’t know?” Kass said, looking at him like he was an idiot. “Fuzzy Wuzzy is a sophisticated bear gentleman. He doesn’t growl. He speaks with a deep, ursine voice as is the custom of his people. I can’t believe you’re so uncultured that you didn’t even know that.”

“Really?” Valerie asked, her eyes even wider than Daniel’s.

“I believe they’re just pulling our leg, Valerie,” Mclean laughed. “Well, I think they are, but they could also have spent the last two weeks learning an intricate language no one else can speak without a Rosetta Stone.”

“Yeah, no. It’s more like since Fuzzy Wuzzy is a summoned creature, I can understand what he is thinking and relay orders to him in a way that is incredibly hard to explain,” Darwin said as Fuzzy Wuzzy came barreling up the stairs and jumped on him like a big dog who was seeing his master for the first time in a long while. Darwin, who would have been knocked over if it weren’t for the power boosts the game afforded, did his best to stay standing as the big black bear leaned his head over and licked his face. “Although, I’m not exactly making him do this.”

“Tha . . . That’s Fuzzy Wuzzy?” Minx said, staring open mouthed.

“Yeah, that’s our Fuzzy Wuzzy, but you need to be careful,” Kass warned Minx. “Fuzzy Wuzzy preys on cute, young girls. He’s like a big, fat ped--”

“Shh, Kass, don’t tell her that,” Darwin managed to stop her from making the conversation take a dark turn. “Fuzzy Wuzzy is a fine citizen of the StormGuard Alliance.”

“He’s . . . He’s SO CUTE!” Minx said, jumping on the surprised Fuzzy Wuzzy. She caught him right around the neck and hung on tight like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hug the bear or choke the life out of him. She had in essence become a human tie for the giant, red-eyed teddy bear.

Kitchens just shook his head. “Minx, you can’t keep the bear,” he said, as if understanding what was going on in Minx’s head before she even asked.

“But, but, Dad! He’s so cute!” Minx pleaded as she swung back and forth as the bear’s human tie.

“Wait, Minx is your daughter?” Darwin asked, looking over at Kitchens. “Does that mean, you’re like . . .”

“Yes, I’m an old man who plays video games with his daughter.”

“Well, umm . . . How old?” Darwin felt awkward asking. He actually wanted to know how old Minx was because she acted more cutesy and kiddy that any actual child he had ever seen, but he couldn’t imagine a really little kid ever being allowed on a VRMMO like this one. Not wanting to betray his confusion, he had figured he could probably gauge from Kitchens’ age how old Minx might be.

“Oh, me? I’m forty-two with the full head of gray that comes with it,” Kitchens said, touching his hair.

“Dang, I thought I was the oldest one at thirty. Well, that’s cool you let your kid play a VRMMO. Most parents typically frown on the video game route,” Darwin noted, remembering how many times he had seen parents get in the way of good raids because they insisted their fifteen year old go out and ‘get a life.’

“I’m not a kid!” Minx yelled from her new necktie position. Fuzzy Wuzzy, now standing on two legs, was looking at her and holding his paws over her as if he weren’t sure if she were deadly to touch or not. Occasionally, he’d extend one paw close to her as if he were going to poke her, but then would pull it back. “I’m an adult!” Minx yelled again.

“Of course you are,” Darwin said at the bear tie.

“I am! I’m 18! I’m more than old enough to get a pet, and I want a Fuzzy Wuzzy!” Minx yelled back from the neck of the bear, who, in response to Minx’s plea, just let out a defeated growl.

“She’s 18?” Darwin asked Kitchens in a low voice as to not draw more Minx yells from the bear’s neck.

“Yeah, she is. Actually, the game is a fun way for me to spend time with her and get her to socialize since she doesn’t have friends at school.”

“I’ve heard that kids who go in and out of that Japanese school system have trouble with bullying sometimes,” Kass snuck into the conversation.

“Yeah. The kids at school are a bit unkind to her sometimes, but they mean well,” Kitchens nodded.

“Wait, she goes to school in Japan? How could you tell?” Darwin asked Kass, not sure of what queues he missed.

“‘Cause the only people I know who stand as straight as Kitchens are Marines. There’s that and his reverence for Asian philosophy, the stuff you two are always talking about as if I can’t hear you. Together, the two probably mean that he spent a lot of time stationed in Okinawa, and they most likely either live in Japan or lived in Japan until very recently,” Kass said with a smug smile.

Darwin looked over at Kitchens who just nodded. “Wow, that was impressive,” Darwin admired Kass for a moment. “You figured all of that out from just him standing straight and the topics of our conversation?”

Kass just giggled. “No, of course not. Minx told me earlier when we were talking. You are so gullible, Darwin.”

Darwin scrunched his eyes and covered his face for a moment. “Fine, fine. I’m gullible. Now, can we get this show on the road? Fuzzy Wuzzy, walk on two feet if you have to, but don’t hurt Minx.”

Fuzzy growled, then carefully grabbed the girl who was hanging from him and put her on top of his head as he sat back down on all fours. His switching from two legs to four, with her on his head, left Minx to slide down his neck until she was sitting on top of his back as he walked up to Darwin and pushed his head up against his hand. Why does this remind me of Minx and Kitchens now?

“Umm, Boss, before we go . . . is there any way to ask for a favor?” Daniel asked, scratching his head behind his ear. “See, it’d be great if this whole thing were an order from Alex.”

Mclean and Valerie seemed just as stunned by the request as Darwin, Kass and the rest were. Everyone stared at him blankly for a minute, wondering what he was on about, then both Mclean and Valerie went, “Oh!”

“Yeah! That sounds like a great idea. Please have Alex issue this as an order,” Mclean said.

Alex, who had stood quietly the whole time, nodded and stroked his chin as if he had a beard. “I see. They have a great deal of respect for the chain of command. This is very good, Great Lord Darwin. They’ve been very diligent with the tasks around the ship; and, regarding the moving, they’ve not missed a single thing and have completed all the orders as if their life depended it.”

“Yeah, Great Lord Darwin, we’d like this mission to be an order from Alex, if you don’t mind,” Valerie piped in too.

“Indeed, it’s for the best,” Mclean said, “The chain of command should stay intact. It’d be rude if we, as subordinates of General Alex, were to go above him and work out deals with his superior behind his back. We should make sure General Alex has all of his tasks covered ahead of time.”

“Okay, um . . . What?” Darwin had to ask. This was all too weird. He knew that Valerie was really into role play, but it just didn’t fit for Daniel or Mclean. “What’s really going on?”

“Well, you see--” Daniel started talking with his hands, ready to make an excuse, when Mclean interrupted him.

“It’s the EXP, your Great Lordship,” Mclean said, holding her head low. “We just want the EXP.”

“The EXP?” Kass asked with a face that was just as confused as Darwin's.

“Yeah, whenever we get a quest,” Mclean explained further, “I mean, a request from Alex, it counts as a quest with a ridiculous EXP reward compared to what the task is. Even something as simple as fetching lunch seems to count for the same amount of EXP as if we did a full dungeon clearing quest.”

“Yeah, it’s really great actually. I am almost Level 44 off of it,” Daniel said. “So, if it’s not too much trouble, we’d like to have Alex issue the request.”

“Wait wait! Minx can get a quest from this?” Minx said from atop Fuzzy Wuzzy’s back. “Minx wants a quest!”

Alex sighed. It was clear to Darwin from his General’s earlier excitement that Alex had such high hopes for the discipline and conduct of the new recruits, but instead they were just using him to increase their power by the same inexplicable method Darwin himself utilized. Darwin couldn’t tell if Alex understood what ‘EXP’ meant, but the sigh definitely let Darwin know that he wasn’t entirely happy with this discovery. “Alright, I need all of you to go with Darwin and do exactly as Darwin says until the new base is established,” Alex said with more than a hint of defeated resignation in his voice.

“Thanks, Alex!” Daniel said, clapping his NPC boss on the back.

“That did it! Thanks a lot, General Alex,” Valerie said.

“Wow, cool! I didn’t know factions had this function! Thanks, Alex!” Minx added as Mclean and Kitchens just issued a two-word ‘thank you.’

“How come I didn’t get one?” Kass asked, looking around at the others.

“Well, if I had to venture a guess, Kass,” Daniel responded, “It’s likely because you’re a higher rank than Alex. Since quests are given by NPCs of a higher rank, and your only boss is a player, I’m guessing this little EXP mine just won’t apply to you. Given we’re the only faction I can think of with NPCs, it’s entirely possible the GMs in charge of fixing glitches like this will never notice it.”

“What? You mean everyone else will level faster than me?” Kass’s face went slightly red. “That totally stinks!”

“For you. For us, it’s quite handy,” Kitchens said, smiling up at Minx. “Minx, you did really good finding this swordsman.”

“See! Minx is the best!” Minx said before straightening up on her bear mount and then pointing towards the dock. “Onward, Sir Fluffster! To victory!”

As they all filed off towards the new quest, one by one with Darwin in the back, Darwin thought for sure he heard Alex say something behind them as they left.

“NPC . . . ?” he thought he could hear Alex saying. “What’s an NPC? Wait, we didn’t give Darwin the bathrobe to give to Fu . . .” the voice trailed off as the distance grew too great.

Halfway through the town on their way to the gate, a group of tiger guards stopped them. “His Excellency has requested an audience with you fine heroes before you leave.”

“That’s excellent!” Darwin feigned happiness. “The sooner we can be of service, the better.” It was a necessary lie. He knew he had to keep up the pretenses until his people could escape the town; but, even through his best fake smile, he could feel his stomach turning inside him with each lie.

“Good. Your entourage can wait here. The audience is only requested of you and you alone,” the Panthera said, looking at his friends with obvious disdain. Darwin felt a little grossed out looking at his beady, yellow eyes while the cat squinted at his companions.

“Fine,” Darwin said. The whole thing was fishier than a fresh-stocked lake, but he didn’t want to start trouble. “I’ll be back. Just wait here,” he said to his friends as he followed the two guards by himself.

“Use your psychic powers to signal Fuzzy Wuzzy if something goes wrong!” Minx shouted at Darwin as he walked away.

They left the crowded street full of players and NPCs haggling left and right and ventured through a few sketchy back alleys until finally the path opened up into a garden behind a gate. The gate had a white floral design inlaid with ivory and was barely one fat Fuzzy Wuzzy wide and not but ten feet tall. The guard opened the gate and then waited as Darwin walked in. Afterwards, he shut and locked the gate behind Darwin.

Well, this meeting is already shady enough to turn the entire desert cool, Darwin grimaced as he walked down the path. If it weren’t for the awkwardness of the circumstances, he would have greatly enjoyed the garden. It was actually rather beautiful. It had flowers flowing in streams of silky purple across the ground on both sides of the pathway and was bordered by lines of white orchids. Red roses spiraled up each one of the garden’s thin, ivory fence posts that edged off sections of the garden and parts of the walkway. It was a simply stunning sight, and there in the middle of it was the Panda King, quietly holding one of the red roses.

“You wanted to see me?” Darwin asked as he approached the Panda King.

“Yes. Yes, I did, young one, but we can get to that in a minute. Until then, perhaps you could take a walk with me?”

“Of course, Your Excellency,” Darwin nodded and walked next to the Panda King, who started walking through the flowers. Each step amid the beautiful floral sea made Darwin want to cringe a little. It was like watching a rhino walk through a china shop and casually knock pieces to the ground.

“You know,” the Panda King began, pausing only to pick up a flower, “when I was young I knew a Human farmer who had two animals. One was a pig, and one was a cow. The farmer raised both of them with care, but he only raised the cow with love. The pig, on the other hand, he treated with disgust. Day after day, he would ignore the pig and praise the cow. The pig, angry at this, finally asked the farmer about it. He asked the farmer why he treated him poorly but the cow with such kindness. The farmer, not caring what the pig thought of him, honestly answered the pig. He told the pig that the reason he treated the cow better was that the cow gave them milk day after day to drink with his breakfast and sell to the town. He told the pig that the reason he treated him poorly was that he resented the pig for still being alive.” The Panda King, in an obvious and overly-dramatic fashion, crushed the flower he had been holding and scattered its broken petals into the gentle breeze. “That, so long as the pig was alive, he was essentially worthless. Only when the pig was dead would it be worth anything.” Then, finishing the parable, the Panda King stopped walking and turned to Darwin. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“That I shouldn’t be the pig?” Darwin asked, clearly understanding what the Panda King said, but still wanting the ruler to clarify how that was to be achieved.

“That those who don’t prove useful every day they are alive, often prove useful when they are dead.” The Panda King’s once friendly smile had transformed from a happy grin into simply a mouth full of teeth. “That’s not something you want, now is it?”

“Not particularly,” Darwin felt an urge to step back as the Panda King’s menacing fang-filled mouth chomped wordlessly. “But how do I stay useful?”

“Ah, that . . . That’s an easy one. All I need you to do this time is the same thing you did last time: clear out a set of terrible pirates,” the Panda King laughed jovially, his usual cheerful and rosy demeanor returning.

“So . . . Same thing I did last time? Same type of problem?” Darwin asked, secretly wanting to know if the Panda King planned on sending more mercenaries or ninjas to kill him mid-mission. He would have, but he had already died once, and he knew the panda could not have obtained the station of King without being formidable in a fight. Just his presence exuded a type of power no one else in the Kingdom seemed to have. Instead of following up his question with a wise remark about the ninjas the Panda King had obviously sent after them, he just asked, “Is there anything else you will need, Your Excellency?”

“No, no, I think that will be all. The guard at the gate will have a map with the location of your next target.” The Panda King turned back to his flowers, the ones he wasn’t stepping on, and bent over to pick one up. “Oh, and Darwin, one more thing,” he said, turning up to Darwin as the warrior was walking back to the gate. “Remember that a good cow will be praised and cared for.”

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Darwin said, and then he started rushing his feet towards the gate as quickly as he could while still maintaining a walk.

Kass:

“That guy gets creepier with each meeting,” Darwin complained as he returned to the group.

“All that ‘young one’ talk?” Kass asked, remembering the way the old Panda King had insisted on calling them all “young one” all the time.

“No, I wish it were only that. This time he gave me a weird metaphorical speech about a pig and a cow and how he would kill me unless I made him happy every day,” Darwin explained. “It was like he was going for a Godfather vibe and got lost in a pig’s rear halfway through.”

“Ouch, that bad?” Kass sympathized, doing her best to imagine what she had originally thought of as a kind old man making threats like that.

“Yeah,” Darwin nodded, “That bad. Kind of made me want to take a shower.”

“Well, we shouldn’t dilly dally then.”

“No, but we have to make a stop along the way,” Darwin said, pulling out a scroll. “The King actually did us a huge favor. He gave us the location of another group of so-called bandits.”

“How is that a favor again?” Kass wondered.

“Yada yada, more twigs in the bundle makes it harder to break, yada yada,” Minx answered Kass’s question.

“Yada yada?” Kass had heard the phrase a million times, and already had a general idea of how it fit, but she was so surprised to see Minx attempt to talk like Kitchens.

“Minx is tired. Fuzzy-Wuzzy, be my bed. I’m going to sleep now,” Minx said as she ignored Kass’s request for an explanation and curled up on Fuzzy-Wuzzy’s furry back. “Sleeeeeepppyyy time now. Oyasumi.”

“You can sleep in the video game?” Darwin asked, extremely intrigued by this idea. “How do you sleep in the video game?”

“She’s not sleeping. She’s just ignoring Kass’s question because she doesn’t remember the whole point of the example,” Kitchens answered, patting Fuzzy Wuzzy’s head in lieu of Minx’s.

“I’m not sleeping, mya mya mya,” Minx said in an awkward feigned yawn, using ‘mya’ to supplement her fake snores.

“She should have told you that a twig by itself is easy to snap, but a bundle of them bound together is difficult to even bend.” Kitchens continued patting Fuzzy Wuzzy, clearly making up for the lack of his built-in daughter hand rest.

“Yeah, that one, mya mya mya,” Minx deliberately snuggled further into Fuzzy Wuzzy’s fur coat.

“Okay, so we need to go there and gather up more bandits as well as make sure we convince the existing bandits to join us?” Kass clarified.

“Yeah, that. Also, I have some really bad news,” Darwin said, looking at the map.

“Uh oh,” Kass gulped. Darwin never mentioned having bad news. It was his positive, go-getter attitude that she liked about him--that attitude that took challenges as they came and just pressed forward regardless of the risks. For him to mention bad news, it had to be pretty dire. “How bad is it?” she had to know.

“You forgot to get chocolate chip cookies from the Panda King before you left, didn’t you?” Kitchens asked, a smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah, it totally slipped my mind,” Darwin held his head in shame.

What? Chocolate chip cookies? You made me worry over chocolate chip cookies? Kass, who had resisted it several times before, finally facepalmed. “Darwin, you idiot.”

“Uh huh! Stupid Darwin needs to remember the important things next time, mya mya mya,” Minx continued her fake ‘mya’ snoring. For some reason though, even with all the ‘mya’ sounds as snores and the lynx cat ears, Kass just couldn’t see Minx as anything other than a cute puppy who got excited over even the smallest of things. Granted, if Minx somehow managed to walk across her keyboard while she was gaming, that would reverse course and gain her the cat image.

“Are we going to have enough time?” Darwin asked,

“To get chocolate chip cookies? Mya mya mya . . .” Minx’s fake snoring was starting to irritate Kass a bit. “There’s always time, mya mya mya . . .”

“No, I mean is there enough time to pick up both groups of guerilla fighters and still clear the dungeon before Alex and them start their march?” Darwin clarified.

“Well, you could cheat,” Daniel offered, using his wings suddenly to hover a few feet above the ground. “I mean, you do just so happen to have incredibly fast Scouts that could gather up the rebels before you even make it to the dungeon.”

“We could also try to get winged mounts,” Darwin thought aloud. “Every game in the world has them at the first big town, right? I mean, they may be expensive, but we’re not exactly broke.”

“Actually, it doesn’t work like that in this game,” Kass sighed. She remembered hearing about it during the promo videos at the tech conventions. “In this game, the only way to get any type of good mount is to make it to the final neutral city, The City of Light. They are the ones with winged mount trainers.”

“The City of Light? Winged mounts? That sounds awesome,” Darwin said excitedly, “but, we’re probably not going to be there for a long time, are we?”

“Nope. So your best bet is to send us awesome people on a quest,” Daniel said,

“Wait, you got EXP when I told you guys to wait there, didn’t you?” Darwin asked with a half-cocked eye.

“Yep,” Daniel nodded, showing no guilt over his boon.

“So you’re waiting for me to tell you to go do it because it’ll count as another quest you can get done before we even show up at the dungeon?”

“Yep,” he nodded again.

“Haha, alright. If you think you can handle the diplomacy, go take care of both groups and meet us at the dungeon entrance,” Darwin said. Then, noticing the other two waiting, he extended it to all of them. “All of you go handle the first set of guerillas, then handle the second set of guerillas, then meet us at the dungeon.”

“Thank you kindly, Boss,” Daniel said, shooting off into the sky.

“See you round, Chief,” Mclean flew up and joined Daniel.

“Umm . . . What they said, Great Lord Darwin,” Valerie noted, taking off after her two friends.

“And then there were four,” Darwin mumbled, “How ‘bout we take the scenic route and leave those guys waiting on us.”

“You had something in mind?” Kass asked, remembering the hectic battle route they had taken from the silver ore mine to their Hydra’s home.

“Well, there should be enemies in the woods, right?” Darwin asked, more to Minx and Kitchens than to Kass.

“Yeah, and players trying to farm them,” Kitchens answered, putting a hand over his sword hilt. “You’re planning on farming both of them, aren’t you?”

“I think it’s an idea. We definitely need to work on our formation if we’re going to take the dungeon without the most important team role in boss fights.”

“A tank?” Kass asked, remembering how hard it always was to find a good tank for a boss raid in other games.

“That, but I was referring to a healer.” Darwin pulled out his professor hands, gesturing into thin air with each word as they walked towards the gate. “The way I see it, we are three DPS, or damage-oriented characters, and only one support caster. We’ve been skating through our fights by avoiding damage, not preventing it like a solid tank-and-healer combo would. Now, we can either pick those two up, which would take a lot of time but might be incredibly beneficial in the long run--or the quicker fix is we start working on our formation and our team work.”

“Won’t that still create problems later on? What if one of the bosses we fight has an area of effect attack that we can’t avoid?” Kass wondered. She couldn’t remember all of the bosses that she had read about, but she knew some of them had some incredible AOE attacks that would be hard for even Darwin to dodge.

“Yeah, that’s true, but what are we going to really do about it on such short notice?” Darwin asked, the look in his face causing Kass to flinch.

That’s right, he’s worrying about dying again. I need to be careful. This conversation must be stressing him out. “Well, surely there are a few people in the faction who are healers? I mean, the entire StormGuard Alliance can’t be short of healers completely? Can it?”

“I . . . don’t actually know,” Darwin scratched a horn, “I just thought they were all fighters like Alex.”

“You may want to look into that,” Kass suggested. “Well, when you get time, I mean,” she said, dismissing the urgency when she realized that, with her position in the faction, she should probably know too.

“Well, either way, we don’t have a healer, and it’s a good suggestion.” Darwin eyed the tiger guards at the gate as if they were bouncers more than guards as he walked past them out of the city. “Do we go find one and hopefully make it in time, or do we go out right away and work on our formation as was first suggested?”

They all stayed quiet until finally Kitchens put forth a plan of action. “Fire should not act like earth.”

Kass just looked at Minx, still snuggling Fuzzy Wuzzy’s back, and shrugged. She wasn’t far enough into the philosophy mumbo jumbo to get it, but while she was shrugging, Darwin was nodding thoughtfully.

“Yes, that does make sense. Let’s go kill stuff then,” he pulled out two swords and charged into the forest as if the trees were an enemy.

“Right,” Kitchens said, fully unsheathing his new blade and charging behind Darwin.

Kass, not wanting to be left out, followed after the two wild swordsmen with Fuzzy Wuzzy and his fare, dashing into the woods.

As they entered among the trees, Kass cast all of her augmentation spells onto both Kitchens and Darwin. She was tempted to do the same for Minx and Fuzzy Wuzzy, but after seeing the first fight, she decided that was unnecessary. Minx never left Fuzzy Wuzzy’s back, and Fuzzy Wuzzy never made it to the fight before the enemies were dead. Darwin and Kitchens seemed to have a who-can-kill-faster competition going on all the way to the dungeon. It wasn’t a graceful competition, but it was definitely one won by circumstance more than skill. Each time Darwin or Kitchens got close to an enemy, their swords would flash, the enemy would split in half, and they would be off to kill the next poor creature. It was a matter of luck who ended up closer to the next hapless victim first.

As for the enemies, Kass couldn’t wrap her head around how amazing the monsters looked. As she watched Darwin duck under the pincer-like blades of a fire-spitting, spiked, mantis-esque bug with floating, purple eyes, she couldn’t help but admire the work that was done by the game creators or AI. Even the guts and lava-like blood spewing from its sides were oddly beautiful as Darwin, now having cleanly dodged the monster’s attack, pulled his blade through its abdomen splitting the exoskeleton of the giant, flaming insectoid in two.

The creatures were all so well designed and unique that even a Scorpatuar’s entrails plopping onto the forest floor as Kitchens did a 360 degree spin to both dodge and disembowel the scorpion-centaur was a work of art worth admiring. It’s not that the previous areas hadn’t impressed her. There were a lot of cool monsters on the beginning noob island, but most of them weren’t as creative or fearsome as a poison-breathing, eight-legged stink bug with two bladed arms that almost doubled the length of its body crawling around attacking with a long froggish tongue.

It was definitely a far more complex and vicious world. In other games, Kass often couldn’t tell if the enemies were merely placid observers in their own deaths or were actively attempting to prevent it, but here it was clear that Darwin was escaping certain death each fight by a hair’s breadth at best. Sure, he was cutting things in half left and right, but the fights looked as intense as if he were fighting the polar bear in the first silver ore mine all over again except his enemies just took much fewer hits.

Halfway through the mountain climb, Minx decided she was done snuggling Fuzzy Wuzzy and straightened up on top of the bear. The two of them charged around, never actually attacking anything, while she waved a dagger in the air as if she were a general rallying her troops in an old-fashioned, King Henry-styled medieval movie.

“Why is it that every time we get around to killing, you swordsmen go quiet?” Kass asked from the back as Darwin lobbed the head off another Scorpataur. “Is it like trying to listen to the radio and watch TV at the same time?”

“Well,” Darwin managed to breath out heavily as he shifted at the last minute to avoid being crushed by a Rhino-Beetle’s attack with what looked like two giant cinder blocks on sticks, one such club in each of his right arms, “chat can be kind of distracting.” He lunged in, stabbing the Rhino-Beetle square in the center of his shoulder before the creature could recover from the momentum of his swing. “And it definitely messes with the tempo of things.”

“Hmmm, I guess that makes sense.” Kass tried to sneak in a few snowballs at her enemies before recasting her buffs on her comrades and running up to meet them. She hadn’t entirely mastered the art of casting and moving, but she had gone from struggling with the ability to actually being able to run while manipulating augmentation magic. “So is it silence then the rest of the way?”

“No, Minx can talk and fight. Minx can even use special sound effects like she’s in an old-fashioned comic book,” Minx broke in, “Watch!” Minx jumped off of Fuzzy Wuzzy and darted, both daggers first, into the face of one of the nearest Rhino-Beetles while shouting, “KABLAM! See, Minx can talk and fight ‘cause she’s Minx the Lynx, coolest cat on the scene!”

“Does Minx always talk about herself in third person? Kass is just wondering,” Kass teased her.

“Of course. Because my dad always tells me to be the narrator of my own life!” Minx happily announced, totally missing Kass’s tone.

“I’m not sure that’s what I meant,” Kitchens said as he waded through another Rhino-Beetle, “but I’m certainly blessed to have such a daughter who honors her parents.”

“Mhmm! That’s right!” Minx crawled back on top of Fuzzy Wuzzy. “Glad you understand how blessed you are to have such an amazing daughter.”

Kass and Darwin just chuckled to themselves.

“Well, we’ll just talk, Minx, girl to girl about makeup and all the girly stuff while these two are forced to listen to us,” Kass plotted, unable to stop the grin that had spread across her face as she planned topics that would be awkward for both Kitchens and Darwin. “Like for starters, are there any boys you like?”

“I like plenty! But, shhh, one of them might hear us!” Minx whispered from atop Fuzzy Wuzzy.

It took Kass a second, and she thought about just rolling her eyes, but this couldn’t be avoided. The palm from her hand connected squarely with her forehead as she let out a sigh. What am I to do with you?

Qasin:

Qasin, even riding the horse, couldn’t keep his right hand from the sword hilt. They were almost at the village, and all Qasin could think about was the fight Eve had ended prematurely. The taste of combat, the exhilaration he felt as he spun his blade through the enemies, and the disappointment he felt when it all went away. It just rolled through his head over and over again as he rode.

“If it’s bothering you that much, dear, you should just stab a few peasants along the way,” Eve said, straightening her back as she rode a little in front of him. “Or is that not how the noble King acts?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Qasin said, pulling his hand away from the hilt. “What could possibly bring me to behave in such a barbaric manner?”

“Oh, don’t be coy with me, dear,” Eve reached a hand out and touched Qasin’s shoulder as the two now road side by side. “You’re positively dripping with the desire.”

“Nonsense,” Qasin stiffened. Between the touch and the thought of killing, he was doing his best to not hop off the horse and charge at the nearest living creature just to ease the tension.

“Come now, weren’t you the one who made me ruin a good boat just so you could kill some pirates? Don’t act innocent now; we’ve all seen your colors.

“I merely wanted to save innocent people from a gruesome fate. There is nothing wrong with that,” he said, satisfied with his character defense. “I was helping people.”

“‘Save,’ ‘save,’ ‘save,’ ‘save.’ You keep saying that word, but if that were really the case then what was with that sour face you had when I finished off the pirates?” Eve further taunted the troubled King.

“I was merely upset that we lost a good boat. I know how much the thought of losing time troubled you,” Qasin lied. “It had nothing to do with you finishing off the pirates.”

“Oh, then it was for my sake? How touching. Perhaps my dashing Prince Charming shall whisk me away from all my troubles,” she laughed. “Or perhaps he will just carry me off to more combat.”

“It’s not like that, and I don’t need to explain myself to you,” Qasin said, deciding that he had discussed the subject enough for one day. He had gone years without killing anyone when he ruled as a King. This wasn’t an urge that he needed to sate.

“Of course you don’t, dear.” She sped up and pulled her horse in front of his again. “It’s you that needs convincing. Now, come along. Chop chop. We have places to be.”

Qasin sighed. Her words had teased out his desires too much, and now he found himself wanting to fight even more than before. The closer they got to their destination, Eve now riding squarely in front of him, the stronger the urge grew. He even closed his eyes a few times as they rode and imagined he was still ripping through the Black-Wing lines in the battles days ago. Mere days ago . . .

“Oh, look, dear Qasin! It’s a perfect development for you!” Eve shouted out from ahead of him, laughing and pointing to something up ahead. As Qasin struggled to see what she was talking about, her horse blocking his view, she described the situation. “See, there is a poor little Human girl being bullied by three big evil Feline men. They’ve even pushed her to the ground. It’s absolutely perfect for you. Now you can kill someone for a nice, noble reason. I mean, pushing a girl to the ground--that’s most certainly a crime worthy of death, is it not, my dashing hero?”

“No, it’s not,” Qasin frowned. If she hadn’t put it in that way, he might have chopped them up for attacking the girl without listening to both sides. Why does she have to keep ruining my fun, he thought grumpily as the two rode closer to the surrounded girl. “I am sure this can be handled diplomatically.”

“If you say so. By all means, rescue the girl in a peaceful manner. Flex that restraint of yours,” Eve giggled, letting her horse slide back behind Qasin’s as he galloped ahead to the place in the road where the girl was being harassed.

“Excuse me,” Qasin said, approaching the three Feline men. “Could you perchance explain why you have assaulted this young lady?”

“Young lady? The boy called this trash ‘a lady.’ That’s cute,” the biggest Feline man, a cheetah-spotted Feline with his chest pushed out twice as far as his friends’ said. “A hairless chimp spawn can be a lady? That’s rich.”

“Oh, but this one’s also trash, so maybe it’s just that garbage can’t tell the difference,” another one of the Feline men, looking to have originated from cougars, spoke out. “Perhaps there is a dumpster nearby that we missed, and that’s where these two came from.”

“Ugh, I thought this reeking smell of man flesh would pass when we left that putrid town, but here it is, foul smelling dumpster waste bothering us on the road,” the cheetah Feline spoke again.

Qasin, who had patiently put up with their degrading remarks as he dismounted and approached the group, gripped his sword as tightly as he could. He wanted to kill them. He even had it planned out, but one glance from Eve told him that he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “Gentlemen, perhaps you could show us your civility and let us and the girl pass without trouble. I’m sure we’re not worth your time,” he said through tightening jaws, yet with a gracious air as he did his best to swallow his pride and avoid bloodshed.

“What? Do a favor for trash? Not likely. We’ve got a long ride back, and we’ll be taking this girl for a short ride on the way,” the cougar Feline spoke. The third, a cougar Feline too, just chuckled with each of his cohort’s comments, his eyes less concerned with Qasin and more with the flesh of the girl Qasin hadn’t particularly noticed yet.

“Actually, it looks like you brought us an extra morsel too. Tell your girl to hop off her horse and join us. Who knows? Maybe she’ll walk away with a child that is--” The cheetah Feline’s taunt was cut short by Qasin’s sword.

Qasin, who had drawn the blade to cleanly cut the cheetah Feline right down the middle finished off the other two in just as quick a swing. He forcefully swung the blade a few times to shed the loose blood off of it and then sheathed it. Why couldn’t they have been more tolerable, he grumbled, staring at the pieces of rude pests he had been forced to exterminate. Why couldn’t you scum have just been a bit civilized? How is it that I’ve managed to travel to an entirely new continent, and yet I’m faced with the same racial tensions and social dynamics the White-Horns, Black-Wings and the Humans had back home?

Looking at the bodies of the Felines scattered across the ground, he just sighed. Will there be another White-Wing invasion or some other catastrophe to push Humans into an amicable relationship with their neighbors, or does someone have to slaughter thousands just to bring about another unified Kingdom? Is it inevitably bloodshed every way? Qasin struggled with the thought. Half of his annoyance with the violence was because he didn’t want to justify Eve’s smug smile, but the other half was because he had wished things could have been different back on the main island. He wished he could have been the right and just King that his people would have praised, the King that united peoples and cultures. But, in the end, he was the conqueror, not the King. Just another petty witless thug sticking up for his family with clubs and swords in lieu of discourse.

“World class diplomacy, Qasin. Well demonstrated,” Eve said, clapping softly from atop her mount, “Bravo, indeed.”

“Violence is still a tool to be used in diplomacy when talking proves unfruitful,” Qasin tried to use semantics to escape admitting his failure.

“If you say so, dear. Now, since you’ve had a little fun, can we carry on?” Eve motioned to Qasin’s mount. “We have a lot of riding to do.”

“Umm, excuse me,” interjected the girl, a brunette in a light brown sundress. She was still sitting in the mud a few paces away, where she had backed herself up against a boulder in an attempt to distance herself from her attackers once Qasin had drawn their attention. “Excuse me, ummm . . . Sir,” she continued feebly, “th . . . thank you.” Then, regaining her strength, she stood up and started brushing her dress off, “Thank you so much . . . Thank you so much! What can I ever do to repay you?!”

Qasin looked at Eve, shrugged, then looked back at the girl. “Just have a good day and try not to get in trouble. Perhaps try to find someone to walk with you when you travel so you don’t run into the same problem again.”

Eve chuckled as the girl called out more thanks while the two resumed their journey to the town. The second they were out of earshot though, Eve just turned to Qasin and smiled. “That girl was rather pretty as far as excuses go.”

“She wasn’t an excuse.” Qasin stood by his objection.

“Sure, sure, and that’s exactly why you had forgotten she existed altogether as soon as your blade was drawn.”

Qasin’s face slumped. I did forget her.

“Oh, don’t be sad. I won’t judge you, my dashing knight. I’m just saying you shouldn’t lie to yourself so much.” Eve trotted her horse ahead of Qasin’s again, and the two made their way towards the town.

Chapter 7:  Barbeque Standard with Purchase

Daniel:

“When were you going to tell me?” Valerie fumed at Daniel as the three of them flew towards the Human encampment.

“Tell you what?” Daniel feigned innocence. He knew exactly what she was mad about: he hadn’t told her that Darwin wasn’t an NPC.

“No idea what you’re talking about either,” Mclean lied, her smile giving away her deceit.

“Ugh! You two are so frustrating!” Valerie grumbled loudly. “You both knew and neither of you said a word?”

“Valerie, we can’t help you unless you tell us why you’re mad,” Daniel said, holding back a laugh as best he could. “We have no idea why you’re so upset.”

“Seriously, Valerie, I don’t remember doing anything wrong. What did we hide from you?” Mclean said, her smile somehow growing bigger. It got so big it looked like it might actually go ear to ear.

“Stop it! Don’t play dumb! You both know EXACTLY what I’m talking about!”

“Nope, still drawing a blank.”

“DARWIN! When were you going to tell me about him?”

“You mean about his big, broad shoulders? Those strong, muscular arms?” Mclean teased, flying close enough to bump wings for a second with Valerie. “Girl, I should have known you’d have a crush on him.”

“Oh, is that what it’s about? It’s those eyes, isn’t it? They are so deep and red, makes a man second guess his preference for women when he stares at you. It’s like he’s looking straight through you and directly into your soul.” Daniel put his right hand over his left chest, dramatically pulling his head back as best he could while still flying. “They’re just mesmerizing--enchanting, you might say.”

“It’s not that! That’s not what I mean!” Valerie looked like she was trying to stomp her feet in mid-air.

“Ah, then it’s his personality? The way he always has to sweep in and save the day, defend the helpless and protect even the most lowly of commoners?” Daniel continued to poke at Valerie. “The white knight thing? Is that what has your engines revving?”

“Or it’s that chiseled jaw? The rugged charm?” Mclean was now more laughing than talking.

Valerie, with a face redder than ripe tomatoes, finally just outright yelled, “Stop it! You know exactly what I mean, and don’t you dare try to interrupt me with those accusations! Why didn’t either of you tell me he was a player!”

“Oh, that! We just thought you knew,” Mclean said, her face showing the struggle as she tried not to laugh any more at Valerie’s expense. “I mean, it’s kind of obvious.”

“Yeah, first that girl of his in the cabin or that girl on the Hydra, and he goes out on the town for five minutes and comes back with a fresh, eighteen-year-old hottie. He’s definitely a player, that’s for sure,” Daniel smirked. He always enjoyed a good pun.

“He is not . . .That’s not the point! He’s not an NPC! You both knew it, but you let me go around treating him with honors and dignities as if he were!” Valerie’s face grew an even deeper shade of crimson to the point where Daniel half expected steam to come out of her ears like an old 1960s cartoon.

“I didn’t see what the problem was. He is the ruler and all. You even said it yourself once or twice: he’s the Great Lord Darwin.” Daniel was having too much fun. “It’s only natural to show respect to our rulers.”

“Well . . .But . . .He’s a player!” Valerie continued to protest.

Her flustered expression combined with her hair whipping back and forth in the wind as they flew was undeniably cute to Daniel, and it was likely half the reason he was doing this to her instead of just clearing up the air and apologizing. The teasing was just as fun as Valerie was cute.

“Relax, Valerie. I don’t see what the big deal is. I’ve never known someone to be so embarrassed about exercising basic manners and etiquette.” Daniel wasn’t sure if this line of thought would calm her down or just make her madder, but he felt like he needed to do something before she got too flustered.

“It . . .It wasn’t manners! It was--ARG! You guys are such jerks sometimes,” Valerie yelled with eyes clenched tight.

“Easy, Val, you’re blowing this out of proportion,” Mclean said, also attempting to defuse Valerie. “Daniel is right. All you did was show manners and role play. That’s not out of character for you, so why be embarrassed?”

“I’m just . . . Whatever. Let’s drop it and go get this job done,” Valerie said. Her face was still red, but the anger written across it had fallen into just a frown.

“That’s the spirit! Let’s go get you some EXP, and then we can all go kill some mobs while looking good--dang good if I do say so myself,” Daniel pulled on his new bathrobe’s collar.

“Looking good?” Valerie repeated the notion, her face showing she still wasn’t about to be amused by anything. “You think we look good in these ridiculous bathrobes?”

“Yeah, I think I look awesome. I kind of want to get one for the real world, but I’m not sure if people would appreciate my sense of style when I get the newspaper,” Daniel said.

“You’d be fine, my dad even walks the dog in his bathrobe sometimes,” Mclean responded.

“At the park, or in his neighborhood?” Daniel said, the idea of going out with a fashionable bathrobe growing on him.

“The neighborhood, but I wouldn’t put it past him to go to the park in his bathrobe,” Mclean answered, shuddering a bit. “And everyone at that park would have to hope his bathrobe sash was tight ‘cause accidents do happen in the bathrobe realm.”

“What? Accidents? Oh my god!!” Valerie held her bathrobe on over her parts as tightly as possible

“Wait, you didn’t wear pants and a shirt underneath your bathrobe?” Mclean looked over at Valerie, shocked. “Surely you wore something under it just in case, right?”

“Th . . .That’s none of your business,” Valerie avoided the question, hiding her face by looking away from the two.

“It will be our business if a fight breaks out and you have to do chest revealing acrobatics. I’ll lose poor Daniel to a bloody nose,” Mclean laughed.

“That only happens in anime,” Daniel tried to defend himself. “In real life, the problems are much harder to deal with.”

“The anime one is easier to show and keep it PG-13 though,” Mclean, still laughing, managed to explain. “Can you imagine if they had one of your favorite shonen heroes with adult problems instead? Let’s just call it ‘nose bleeds.’”

“Aren’t we all adults here though?”

“I don’t know. Valerie does get embarrassed rather easily over a bathrobe or proper manners. Seems kind of childish to me, almost like . . .” Mclean trailed off mid-sentence, Valerie’s face growing crimson again.

“She really does. Makes you wonder how old she actually is,” Daniel nodded in agreement.

“I’m an adult! And stop picking on me!” Valerie grumbled, her blush covering her face entirely in red. “It’s not funny.”

Daniel exchanged one glance with Mclean and shrugged, “Fine, fine . . . Anyways, don’t beat yourself up over the Darwin thing or the bathrobe,” he told her. “He won’t care that you were polite, and if the bathrobes weren’t secure, I imagine Kass would have been blinded a long time ago and stopped partying with him.”

“Yeah, sorry about teasing you,” Mclean bumped wings again. “Daniel’s right though: everything is fine. Relax.”

“Fine,” Valerie harrumphed out in one breath. “I’ll relax.”

“Good. Now let’s go recruit us some random bandits!” Daniel said excitedly, “Then we can rob some rich people and call ourselves Robin Hood.”

“Really? You, Robin Hood? I always figured you’d be more of a--” Mclean started.

“We’re here,” Daniel interrupted her as he dove towards an open encampment. “Let’s go, guys!” As all three of them were mid-dive, he noted that Valerie’s face still had a pouty look on it. Now how do I cheer you back up? he wondered, landing in front of the gate.

“Who goes there?” One of two men called from atop a wooden archer post on the right side of the gate. The entire wall, and the two archer posts that flanked each side of the four gates that sat in the middle of each wall, were all made of wood. A rather plain, brown wood that looked like treated pine. The wall was just a very large pike fence with a palisade surrounding it.

“Daniel goes there,” Daniel called out to the guard, “accompanied by Mclean and Valerie. We are emissaries sent from the great StormGuard Alliance to speak on behalf of the Great Lord Darwin.” He wouldn’t normally add in all of the extra stuff, but he had been ribbing Valerie for half the flight, so he figured he might as well show her there was no harm in a little role play.

The two guards in the tower on the right side of the gate whispered a few things back and forth, then called back down to him, “State your purpose for being this far out, Daniel of the StormGuard Alliance.”

“My purpose is to give you purpose,” Daniel laid it on thick with the most regal and commanding voice he could muster, “to free you from a life of mere rebellion and offer you hope and the promise of a better tomorrow. All that I ask is that I might humbly be given an audience to speak with your leader that I might be able to tell him of this opportunity.”

“Is he like one of those Sun God witnesses?” the guards in the left tower called over to the right tower. “Is there a polite way to turn missionaries away at the door?”

“Look, you cretin, we know first hand that the Panda King sent someone to kill you. If that person fails he has lines and lines of very capable warriors to choose from. I don’t know why he wants you all wiped out, but he does, and he is finally starting to act on it,” Valerie called up after she saw that Daniel’s attempt was being mocked more than listened to. “So, you can either let us in to tell you what’s going on, or you can wait for your heads to roll like the leader of that stupid group in the silver ore mine. Yeah, that idiot with his head rolling around the Panda King’s throne room--you can wait to end up like him.”

“Wait, that teetotaler who always wore his armor everywhere? He’s dead? Holy crap!” the first guard exclaimed, looking at his buddies. “That guy had the best army. How did he end up dead so quickly? We just heard from him the other day.”

“Umm, it’s kind of a long story. Perhaps we could discuss it inside instead of out here. Looking up at you guys constantly isn’t really comfortable,” Daniel said, trying once more to talk them into letting him inside. “I’m sure we can expla--”

“Forget it, Daniel, they don’t want our help. They just want to die. Forget helping them out, setting them up with food and supplies and a protected and safe place to live. They’d rather end up eating their own women and children, so let’s get out of here and stop wasting our time with these stupid NPCs.” Valerie, still red-faced from earlier, turned around and started to fly off when the guards called out to her.

“Wait! Now hold on, we don’t . . . What are you talking about? Wait a minute, miss!” the guard was calling out, but Valerie had already started to shoot into the air.

“Stop! I’ll get the boss right now! Stop leaving!” another one of the guards called out to Valerie, this time actually getting her to pause.

“What? So he can reject us too? Send a messenger to the other camp. You’ll find the leader dead, and the words we speak truth . . . if you find someone at all. They’ve already signed up to come with us, and we don’t need this type of treatment. Let’s go, Daniel, Mclean.” Valerie huffed even more. Daniel could tell just by looking at her face that this wasn’t a negotiation tactic. She was still mad, and she was definitely ready to leave.

“Calm down, Val. We can take five minutes to explain things to them,” Mclean flew up and put an arm on her wing, trying to calm her down. “Five minutes won’t hurt.”

“Are you sure? We can spend five minutes being super polite and treating them nicely just to find out they aren’t even NPCs. They’re just a bunch of players making fools of us and we are out five minutes that we could have spent getting EXP because we were too busy kissing some player’s non-NPC rear end. I say we just leave.” Val’s face grew redder.

Yep, this is still about Darwin, Daniel thought, torn between wanting to laugh, chuckle and being honestly worried about their friend. Did we push her too far? It wasn’t supposed to hurt her feelings: it was just supposed to mess with her for a minute in good fun.

“Umm, miss? What are you talking about? We aren’t keen on the idea of dying, you know.” The guards looked incredibly confused. The words NPC and player being thrown around probably really threw them off. “But we also just don’t want to go from bending a knee to a Panda King to bending a knee to the uhhh . . . Brian, what was their guy’s name? Oh, oh, yeah, the Great Lord Darwin. No one wants to be anyone’s servant,” the guard called down. “Especially not some animal’s servant who treats us humans like garbage.”

“He’s not an animal though. We may be a bit--what with the wings and all--but he started off as Human. Granted he’s got like, red eyes and horns now, but--” Daniel started explaining. Regardless of Valerie’s fit he was going to try to maintain as much composure as possible.

“What?” The guards all clamored loudly as they stared at Daniel. Then, the one who had been named Brian cried out, “Red eyes?! RED EYES and HORNS?! This isn’t a joke, is it? No, this can’t be a joke. Are you serious? Your leader, he has red eyes and horns? Have his followers . . . changed at all?”

“Yeah, they’ve all got red eyes too now, and their skin is white as a lily.” Daniel took a moment to answer as the guard’s sudden outburst had momentarily disoriented him. He wasn’t expecting that type of reaction to someone having red eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“Alfred, Hitchens, come with me. Let’s get everyone packed and mobile. If anything isn’t vital to survival, leave it. We need to move as soon as possible. Lideck, go get the location of our rendevous with the Great Lord from his prophets, then leave us a copy of the map and go tell the other camps where they need to meet us.” Brian started calling out instructions to everyone without even explaining anything to the three confused White-Wings. “The day has come people! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE! The Goddess will not forgive us for being tardy!”

“Hey, I don’t mean to pry,” Daniel asked Lideck as he literally hopped over the fence and ran up to them while pulling out a pen and paper, “but what’s going on? Why the sudden change of heart?”

“You don’t know? The great Golden Goddess came to all of us, most of the camps, in a vision earlier. She said that our salvation would come to us and gaze upon us with red eyes, and that, upon the joining, our hearts would reflect the blood of his blood, and we would look back with red eyes too, the mark of the chosen people. To be visited by the visage of the Golden Goddess who watches over our lands unseen . . . It was a blessing that only comes once in a lifetime. Then today, not even a full day after, you come with word of a red-eyed man who wishes to save our people from tyranny. We must obey the wishes of the Goddess,” Lideck said. The whole time he was copying notes off Daniel’s map onto a piece of paper.

“The Golden Goddess?” Mclean stumbled across her words in confusion. “Huh?”

“I’m as lost as you are,” Daniel said, patting Mclean on the shoulder. “Let’s uhh . . . I think they’re going to gather up way more than just this camp. Do we go tell Darwin now?”

“Sirs,” Lideck said, having finished copying the map, “truly I plead unto you, messengers of the Goddess, forgive us for treating you rudely. We must make haste to not disobey the Golden Goddess, but please forgive us if you can.”

“Yeah, no problem . . .” Daniel replied, still as stunned as Mclean and Valerie. He decided it was best to just get out of there. He turned around without saying another word and flew off. Valerie and Mclean followed suit and were by his side.

“So, either of you freaked out by what just happened?” Mclean flew in close enough to speak to the other two. “I mean, did we just go from the Sun God to the Bathrobe God?”

“I . . . I don’t know what in hades to make of that,” Daniel admitted, scratching his head. “I’ve seen culty stuff before, but as soon as we mentioned that their savior was red-eyed, they all acted like, well, I got nothing that compares to it.”

Valerie, who had been quiet since the whole turn happened, finally spoke up, frown still intact, “Does this mean he’s going to expect me to still call him ‘Great Lord’?”

Mclean and Daniel, both short a response, simply laughed, then all three of them sped up to the fastest speed they could fly at. It have might been a bit of a flight back, but, one way or another, they needed to tell Darwin what was going on as soon as possible.

Darwin:

Darwin smiled as he pulled his Burriza’s Blade out of the insectoid’s skull and saw what was behind the creature. Magnificent, he thought.

“It seems we’re here,” Kitchens announced from behind Darwin as his blade whittled away at the many mantis-like arms that kept trying to stab him. Bit by bit, the arms grew shorter, but the fiendish bug continued to press and stab until Kitchens finally put it out of its misery with a swipe that neatly divided it down the middle. “Do you think we’re the first ones?”

“I hope so. In the last dungeon the boss took forever to respawn,” Kass huffed as she caught up to her melee counterparts.

Maybe I should get her a mount too, Darwin thought, noticing that she was always lagging behind whenever they were farming. She was able to cast just fine from atop the Hydra. If I get her a good, low-riding mount, she’ll be able to keep up much better in and out of dungeons. I just need to find something durable enough to support her weight and in a rider-friendly shape.

“If you fixate too hard on your target, the enemy will know your move before you make it,” Kitchens said from beside Darwin, putting a hand on his shoulder like he normally did with Minx’s head.

“What?” Darwin blinked, not sure what the old man was talking about. He had gotten used to Kitchens’ odd way of speaking about things, but this time he couldn’t tell what he was talking about.

Kitchens didn’t say anything. He just gave Darwin a slanted look then looked at Kass and then looked back at Darwin.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking about giving her a mount to help her out,” Darwin tried his best to explain.

“Of course you were,” Kitchens laughed softly and walked ahead of Darwin towards the entrance of the dungeon before Darwin could do anything but chuckle at the misunderstanding himself. “Of course you were,” he mumbled to himself as he kept walking.

“BEST DUNGEON ENTRANCE EVER!” Minx shouted as she came barreling out of nowhere towards Darwin, riding atop Fuzzy Wuzzy’s back and waving one of her daggers around as if she were riding a mechanical bull in a bar and the dagger was her cowboy hat.

Well, it certainly is close, Darwin noted, admiring the way the black obsidian shot out of the mountain like jagged crystals, infinitely branching in some areas to what could be mistaken as fuzzy tips and curving and winding in other parts as if they were water bending in an eddy. In the middle of the obsidian formations was an entrance into the mountain, easily big enough for two Fuzzy Wuzzys.

“What type of mobs do you think we’ll fight inside?” Kass asked Darwin, the two now walking side by side towards the hole in the mountain. “Maybe instead of a bear playing poker, it’ll be accountant dogs?”

“Hmm, or it could be a dungeon filled with nothing but cats, and the final boss that they all follow devoutly is a giant laser pointer?” Darwin grinned.

“Ooo! I can play too! I bet the whole dungeon isn’t filled with grumpus grown up cats, but instead it’s filled with cute, cute baby kitten balls, and the final boss boss is a giant, big, big wubby puppy,” Minx made two fake dog paws with her hands and clawed at the air slowly. “Ooo! Ooo! The only way to defeat the puppy is to scratch its stomach three times until it rolls on its back and wags its little tail tail.”

“It’s likely bugs again or maybe plants.” Kitchens killed the game with the same apathetic look and dry tone he used as he chopped up his victims. “They haven’t put us against a creature where there is a playable counterpart yet. I don’t think they’ll start now.”

“So that leaves, what? Humans, plants and bugs? But, I don’t see them making a Human into a frightening boss . . .” Darwin trailed off for a moment as he scratched one of his horns. “So that’s just plants and bugs?”

“Or dragons,” Kass actually squeed as she stepped into the dungeon, her excitement rivalling Minx’s usual demeanor. “Beautiful, beautiful dragons!”

Even Darwin found himself elated to the point where his cheeks were pulling up happily on their own. If there were one hallmark to all fantasy games, it would be dragons. Most fantasy RPG players were overwhelmed with a desire to fight, conquer and square off against the massive foes that dominated the ground, skies and sometimes even waters of multiple fictional worlds.

Kass, after regaining herself from the excitement, turned to Darwin and put one hand on each of his shoulders. “Darwin, I want one. No, I must have one. I’ll call you Great Lord Darwin or whatever you want, just please get me a dragon!”

“Psh, dragons have nothing on Fuzzy Wuzzys!” Minx said, ducking her head as she entered the cave. “Isn’t that right, hairy beary?” She smiled and reached down to pat him; he growled back in seeming agreement.

“Do you think dragons would be more like dogs or cats if they were domesticated? Or are they a mix?” Darwin said, looking at the first group of them.

“It doesn’t matter. Just get me one! I’ve studied up on all the material for raising them: I’ve watched the guides on how to train them,” Kass beamed as she hungrily eyed the first batch of Drakes.

Darwin would have probably already dashed at them and started the fight, but just looking at the six, blue, European-styled drakes with outstretched wings made him nervous. They have too much of an advantage here, he thought as he looked around. If we fight in this environment, we’ll have to rely completely on Kass to kill them. His worry stemmed from the fact that while the ground inside the cave was the same sturdy obsidian the entrance was made out of, there weren’t any walls or roofs. Rather than the dungeon being laid out like a maze and the route forced upon the player by narrow, walled passages and low ceilings, the dungeon was instead a rather open arena with the player’s movement being limited by the rather patchy and inconsistent presence of ground to stand on. There was nothingness for a hundred feet or so on either side of the pathway. There didn’t even seem to be much of anything supporting the pathway for that matter. It was as if the strip of ground they were standing on was being held up by some invisible force, and then, at the bottom, there was a bright pit of lava and fire that lit the entire dungeon up.

If the dragons have even half a brain, they’ll take to the skies and kill us with fire, he thought, frowning. His best bet was likely going to be trying to kill them before they could take off, but the size of their massive wings gave him the sinking feeling they would be airborne before he could say ‘pogostick lizards.’

“Well, we could wait for Daniel, Valerie and Mclean to finish up their task and get here,” Darwin said.

“What? No! We can do this!” Kass insisted.

“Right right, big sis! Let’s do it do it!” Minx said, ignoring the fact that neither Kitchens nor Darwin were making any sign of starting a fight. She spurred Fuzzy Wuzzy into a charge at the Drakes and raised one of her daggers as if she were a commander leading an infantry charge. “For Glory! For Greatness! For the cute, baby kitten balls and wubby puppy of MyaMya Myaton Abbey!”

Darwin, seeing the poor girl charging into an outnumbered and outgunned fight by herself, panicked and ran after her with Kitchens and Kass hot on his trail. “Minx! Wait a second!” he shouted after her as he ran, his legs doing the best they could in a desperate attempt to gain ground on her four-legged mount.

When Minx reached the six drakes, Fuzzy Wuzzy leaped up and pounced at the first one as if he were just a big fluffy dog greeting an absent master. The second impact was made though, the other five dragons spread their wings, taking to the air as they spit streams of fire at the bear. Minx, dodging the fire and going for the kill at the same time, jumped off the bear and landed daggers first into the pinned drake’s skull as her trusty transportation device roared in pain under the scorching blaze of the flying snakes’ attacks.

Yep, called it, Darwin grumbled as he got closer to the dead Drake. “Can you get them with the ice chains? Or one of your snowballs?” He shouted at Kass, whom he knew wouldn’t be too far behind him.

“Of course I’m trying that!” She snapped back. “Just go do your Darwin thingy!”

When he finally reached Fuzzy Wuzzy, who hadn’t moved as the drake’s breath attacks ignited him, he tried to push the bear out of the way of the next attack. The only problem was, the bear was too heavy, and the first fiery assault had left him not only losing health rapidly but also stunned stiff. “Minx? Where are you?” He looked around frantically until he noticed her hugging Fuzzy Wuzzy’s head. “Oh, there you are. Don’t worry. He’s not dead yet,” he said, half for her and half for himself.

What do I . . . Oh! Darwin was about to panic, unsure of how to save his bear, when he remembered that in most video games the best way to kill a dragon was to wear dragon armor. One look at the drake Fuzzy Wuzzy had managed to pin confirmed his theory: not a single one of its scales had been burnt even though the fire had surely hit them. “The wings! Minx, help me with the wings!” he said, yanking one of the dead Drake’s giant wings over Fuzzy Wuzzy like he was spreading a tarp over his stuff to stop the rain from soaking his it--except he was trying to stop the fire from barbecuing his bear.

It only took a few seconds for him to confirm that his idea worked, and judging from the condition of Fuzzy Wuzzy, it would have only taken a few blasts for the Drakes to have finished the job. In several large patches, the animal’s fur had been singed off and the flesh underneath had been roasted until it was almost crispy. Is it wrong that you smell delicious, Fuzzy Wuzzy? Darwin cursed as the aroma of cooked bear meat reached his nose. Dangit, bear, I’m trying to fight, and you smell like a well-seasoned steak.

“Its okay, Fuzzy Wuzzy Wuzzy! I’m not leaving! I’m here here!” Minx hadn’t stopped hugging the bear’s head since she finished covering herself and the bear with the other wing.

Welp, that’s two of us down, and only one enemy to show for it. He looked back at Kass, standing behind Kitchens, who had drawn his sword in front of him as if he were going to attack any incoming fire with his blade. He was concentrating on something intently. “How much longer till you get these beasts grounded?” he asked, looking at the flying circle of Drakes that were still fruitlessly trying to kill Darwin, Fuzzy Wuzzy and Minx with fire as the three of them sat under the giant corpse's wings.

“Well, ummm . . . We got a problem,” Kass started slowly. “You know how in a lot of games dragons have a magic-resistant quality?”

Darwin’s eyes opened slowly in horror as he realized what she was saying. “No, no you’re kidding me. They wouldn’t do that. Too many people play mage characters. They wouldn’t do that,” Darwin tried to reason, but the lack of falling Drakes regardless of Kass’s efforts was evidence enough.

“Hmmm,” Darwin thought for a minute, looking at the Drakes then looking at Kass and Kitchens . . . and the entrance behind them. What am I doing, assuming this is the end? This isn’t the end. This is a video game. GM’s might frown upon playing like this, but this type of strategy has never been a bannable offense, he smiled, hope returning as he eyed the key to his battle plan. “Kass, Kitchens, when you get a chance, come under the wing with Minx and me,” he started relaying orders. Then, turning to Minx, he looked at the shell-shocked bear hugger. “Minx, Fuzzy Wuzzy is going to be fine, but I need you to pull yourself together so we can keep him alive. Can you do that? Can I count on you?”

“Yes,” she said, hesitantly releasing her hold on the bear’s neck.

“Good. I need you to do your best to hold those wings shut together over Kitchens and I while we drag the corpse back through that entrance,” Darwin patted her on the back. “I’m counting on you to keep us safe.”

When Kass and Kitchens reached him, he nudged Fuzzy Wuzzy, “Come on, Fuzzy Wuzzy. Enough down time. Let’s get out of here.”

Then the four of them, Fuzzy Wuzzy, Kass, Kitchens and Darwin, did their best to slowly drag the corpse across the dungeon floor with Minx doing her best to make sure everyone didn’t end up charred. They couldn’t move as quickly as Darwin would have hoped, and the entire time they were dragging the corpse, the flames never stopped, but little by little they made it to the entrance of the cave. “Hold up!” Darwin said, his hands still holding up the Drake as they reached the finish line. “When we go through this door, pull the body to the right. This is going to break LOS and force two options on the Drakes. Either we’re super unlucky, and they’re going to drop aggro and return to their spots, or we’re lucky and they’re going to come darting through that giant entrance, giving us a short window of time in which they’re guaranteed to be on the ground.”

“LOS? Aggro?” Kitchens asked, likely never having heard the words before. They weren’t common terms outside of video games, so it was entirely understandable for him not to understand them.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. LOS is line of sight. Most enemies have to be able to see you to cast their spells on you or attack you,” Darwin explained. “Aggro is like aggression? Aggressiveness? It’s basically how mad a mob or monster is at you. If an enemy NPC is aggroed, he’ll be trying to attack you. In some games you can break aggro, or get an enemy to stop trying to kill you, by going too far or switching zones. I’m not sure how Tiqpa works, but we’re basically betting on that not being the case here.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you,” Kitchens nodded thoughtfully.

“So, we go around the corner, and you hit them with your blade one at a time as they try to get through?” Kass spelled out the plan with a smile on her face, “Like whack-a-mole?”

“Yep, ready?” Darwin asked, getting nods from everyone, even the bear.

“Alright, we got this!” he exclaimed, helping his three friends pull the dragon out of the cave.

For several grains of sand through the hourglass, nothing happened. The fire had stopped, sure enough, but nothing happened. All four of them waited, staring at the entrance, breath held silently, but nothing happened. Then, loud enough to startle a deaf man, one of the Drakes crashed right through the obsidian hole head first. Darwin almost missed it, but he and Kitchens both managed to sink their blades right into the Drake’s skull as it squirmed to push through.

“Let me finish it off,” Darwin said to Kitchens who was readying the final blow. “I need to make sure he doesn’t stiffen up so the entrance stays clear.”

“Understood,” Kitchens sheathed his sword and backed up.

As soon as Darwin’s blade sank in and finished off the Drake, he used his ability to create undead followers. He watched as the Drake’s once black eyes shone red, and the momentarily dead monster healed instantly, finished clawing his way through the entrance, turned, and waited for Darwin’s command.

“That one is mine! I called shotgun on the dragon stuff! You all heard me!” Kass shouted gleefully as the big Drake stood poised with closed wings in front of Darwin.

“Fine, fine,” Darwin said, waving her over quickly. “Go take it for a spin. Just be ready to catch any of them if we don’t get the kill blow here.”

And, within seconds of saying that, another Drake rammed into the wall. “It’s working! Maim it! I got the death blow!” Darwin shouted out his commands as the dragon struggled to get through the hole.

“Stabby stabby for Fuzzy Wuzzy!” Minx shouted as she sank her daggers into its thick, scaly hide. “No more burny burny for you!”

Darwin finished off that one too--and then the next and the next and the next, all in the exact same fashion. When he finished off the last one, and all five had made it through the hole with red eyes, he felt a huge load off his chest.

“We did it,” he said, slumping into the wall. “We did it, and no one died.”

Minx resumed her bear head hug. “We got the bad bad guys for you. No one will ever hurt you again big beary weary, or I’ll stabby stab stab them!” Fuzzy Wuzzy nuzzled his head into the hug and let out a low growl. “That’s right, Fuzzy Wuzzy. They were meanies.”

“I didn’t doubt you for a moment,” Kitchens said, his eyes moving from one Drake to another.

“That makes one of us,” Darwin admitted, remembering the panic when he thought he was about to lose Fuzzy Wuzzy and likely Minx right after. “I actually wasn’t even sure we’d be able to pull it off.”

“The path to victory in an uneven battle lies in leveraging every tiny detail until the force yielded from those seemingly insignificant facts is great enough to subdue your foe. You already understood this, that is why I didn’t doubt you would win. But it is important that you not only understand it, but know it.” Kitchens stopped studying the Drakes and turned to Darwin. “The one on the right end--if you let me have that one, I won’t tell Kass about the dirty thoughts you had earlier.”

Darwin frowned. “They weren’t dirty thoughts, I was just . . . Nevermind. Forget it, you can have that one.” He knew there was no point in arguing because if the discussion lasted long enough Kass would eventually overhear.

“So what are we going to do about the rest of the dungeon?” Kass said, swooping down beside Darwin as Kitchens went over to acquaint himself with the rewards of his blackmail.

“You mean how are we going to clear it?” Darwin glanced inside the cave and then back at the set of five mounts.

“Yeah, got any ideas? I mean, that last fight was pretty easy once we got them through the door, but the next skirmishes are going to probably be pretty tough.” Kass’s words were of the warning kind, but it was hard to take them seriously when her face was still stuck in a permanent smile from getting a dragon.

Who would have thought she would be this happy with getting a dragon. She never mentioned this before at all. One minute she’s barely keeping up at all, the next minute she’s tearing through the skies like a bat out of hell, he thought still processing the near death combat experience when an idea hit him for how to clear out the rest of the dungeon. A wicked twisted smile, the kind that showed up on every cartoon villain, found its way creeping across Darwin’s face as he thought for a moment. “Actually, I have an idea on how to finish off our dungeon problem.”

“What’s the idea?” Kass asked then shuddered. “Darwin, what’s with that smile? I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I don’t like that look,” Kass said, backing up on her mount. “You know that creepy smile really doesn’t go well with the horns . . .”

“Kass, how fast do you think you can go on that thing?” Darwin asked, a chuckle escaping his grin.

Kass:

Darwin’s constant leering was starting to send shivers up Kass’s spine. Whatever his plan was, she was almost certain she didn’t want to be a part of it. “Darwin, no, I’m not answering that,” she instinctively retorted.

“All I’m asking,” Darwin did his best to straighten up his face, but his laughter was reinforcing the creepy smile despite his best efforts, “is whether or not you could outrun the other Drakes if need be? I mean, you do seem to like flying that guy, right?”

Wait, why would I have to . . . “No! I’m not going to do that, Darwin!” Kass stamped her foot as she realized what Darwin was going to ask. If he wants someone to play bait and go gather up all the Drakes, then he can go do it himself! she thought defiantly. There is no way in Hades that he is ever going to get away with making me the lure in this fishing game!

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to take that Drake back then . . .” Darwin raised his hand and motioned as if he was calling a dog home. The big Blue-Drake Kass had been riding on just a moment ago started to move towards Darwin before Kass jumped between the two.

“I’ll do it!” Kass panicked, her body not big enough to block the drake’s return if Darwin seriously called it. “Don’t think like that. There is no reason for you to take Toothifer away.”

“You named him already? And Toothifer at that?”

“Well, it was either that, Scale-eosis, or Scale-ator,” she said, remembering the hard decision she had faced, “but the first sounded like a disease and the second ended up making me think of chicken fingers.”

“Chicken fingers? Really?” Darwin sighed in exasperation.

“Well, you know that the closest living relative to a T-Rex is a chicken, right? So when I thought of Scale-ator, I thought of chickens, and then I remembered that I haven’t had chicken fingers in a while. I couldn’t stop thinking of chicken fingers. So Scale-ator makes me think of chicken fingers.” Kass smiled in satisfaction with her logic. Not everyone knew that the chicken was the closest living ancestor to the T-Rex, or so her news feed said one morning.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Minx.” Darwin scrunched his eyebrows and pinched the top of his nose.

Spending too much time with Minx! Psh, you’ve just been spending too much time with Kitchens, Kass wanted to say, but decided that given he had just gotten her a giant, blue dragon, something she had secretly dreamed about since she had first heard of a VRMMO, it might be okay to let his comment slide without a rebuttal. “Well, whatever, Toothifer just seemed to fit, so I’m going with it.”

“Fair enough, but I still need you and Toothifer to do me a favor. We have an entire dungeon full of enemies,” Darwin pointed to the inside of the dungeon where several Drakes were still visible. “It will take a long time to clear out if we try to fight them fairly. I think our best bet is to get you and Kitchens to take your new mounts and go round up our prey. If you keep a safe distance and aggro them with your rides’ fireballs, you should be able to pull them all without getting in harm's way.”

“So you want me to not fight, but run away like a coward, right?” Kass clarified, not entirely sure how she felt about her role in the plan, but getting past the Drakes would necessarily be a team effort, and she would have to play a part if it were going to succeed. Actually, this is the first time we’ve done a strategy like this in a dungeon, she thought, remembering how previously it had just been the usual hack and slash grind all the way through. “No fighting, just running?”

“Sure. After all, Scale-ator is a relative of the chicken, right? Should be real easy for him to summon up his ancestral talents and run away from a fight,” Darwin laughed as he put a hand on the blue Drake’s wing.

“His name is Toothifer!” Kass insisted, resisting the urge to stomp on the ground. “Not Scale-ator!”

“Sure, sure. Are you and Toothifer up to the challenge?”

“Yeah, no problem. Just, how come it’s Kitchens and not Minx?”

“Because, if we take out style and defense from the Damage stat equation, Minx does more Damage than Kitchens by a long shot,” Darwin said, walking around Toothifer as if he were a piece of meat at the supermarket. “She’s sloppy, but she hits like the main character in an anime after ten episodes of shouting at the screen. Also, I don’t want to tell her she has to go galloping in yelling Leroy Jenkins after the last incident with Fuzzy Wuzzy. Girl looked like she was going to cry when they started killing the poor guy.”

“Yeah, actually, quick question: if Fuzzy Wuzzy dies . . . Can you resurrect him again?” Kass asked as she stared at Minx, who was playing with the giant bear as if he were a tiny puppy.

“No, I don’t think I can,” Darwin shrugged.

“Well, I think we need to talk to Kitchens about getting his daughter a cat or a dog then,” Kass thought, thinking about the horrifying ramifications if the girl lost her new pet mid-game. It’s really not a matter of ‘if’ so much as ‘when,’ Kass thought, thinking about how tough things were getting and how big of a target the black bear was.

“Maybe,” Darwin nodded in agreement, “but for the moment, let’s stay focused on the dungeon. We don’t have long until Valerie’s crew of bird-men finish their job. I’d like to have the dungeon cleared before they even show up if we can.”

“You’re not worried about how difficult the boss will be with just the four of us?”

“Who said it would only be four of us?” Darwin grinned and eyed the five red-eyed Drakes.

“You know that is a cheat skill, right? Why would they even add a skill like that without a clear limit,” Kass complained. It wasn’t right that she only got a few cool ice spells, and he got the ability to raise giant, undead, zombie armies.

“Actually, there is a limit. It said I can only control the number up to the maximum number of NPCs I can command,” Darwin put a finger to his chin. “But . . .”

“But faction leaders don’t have clear-cut NPC command limitations . . .” Kass understood what he was trying to say.

“Yeah, I’m as lost as you, but it does mean we won’t have to go into that final fight alone.” Darwin turned from the Drake to face Kass. “All you have to do is run.”

It wasn’t so much the idea, demanding that she flee, but the way he said it that cemented her feet to the ground and sent an icy finger running up along the side of her spine.

They had been having so much fun that she had forgotten all about his horns or noticed that his eyes weren’t just red any more--they were pulsing and glowing with a strange light. Have they always looked like that? her own gaze fixated on his like a deer struck stiff by the headlights of a car. Has he always looked like that? She involuntarily shivered a bit, then shook her head to clear it of the thoughts. This is Darwin. There is nothing off about him. “Yeah, that plan does sound easy enough. Well, let me hop on Toothifer, and then I’m ready.”

“Great. Kitchens, no chance you heard the plan?”

“If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it,” Kitchens climbed up on his new Drake. Then, facing the bear and girl he shouted out to his daughter, “Minx, do what Darwin says. We’ll be right back.” He then spurred on his mount to push its way through the entrance with him on it, surprisingly unscathed.

Kass hopped up on Toothifer and followed after him. “Are we splitting up?” she asked. “Like you go one way and gather them, and I go the other? Or are we going to make the run together, all at once?”

Kitchens did his best to look over his shoulder at her as she tailed him. “I have no preference. You think it’ll go faster if we split up?”

“It can’t hurt. Do you want the right side or the left?” Kass felt pretty comfortable with her flying abilities after only one ride.

“There is nothing right about this, so I’ll take left on the first split,” Kitchens replied, failing his pun delivery. “Also, have you noticed something off about the mounts?”

Kass looked at her Drake. “What do you mean?”

“How do they understand us? If Darwin is their sire, why do they listen to our commands? What causes them to distinguish us from--Oh, there’s my left! See you!” Kitchens’ drake pulled left and disappeared from sight.

What the heck? You can’t start a line of questioning like that and leave instantly, Kass though as she frowned. But he’s not wrong. There are a lot of things that I just don’t get with the pet system. Why does Fuzzy Wuzzy, a mob-based NPC, react and behave as if he were a real-life domesticated pet? Kass’s concerns with the issue consumed her concentration as she soared high above dozens of packs of Blue-Drakes on her way to the end of the dungeon.

Given the nature of the dungeon, it wasn’t hard for Kass to figure out where the end was. She could see it from halfway across the dungeon as she flew several stories above the black platform. There, at the end, was an incredibly large, circular platform twice the size of a football field with a giant dragon sitting in the middle. The drakes were mostly all blue in color, and one or two were darkly-scaled enough to almost verge on black, but the big, full-bodied dragon was irridescent. It had feathers in the place of scales, and it had a tail that was almost as long as its entire wing span, which was already massive in proportion to its body.

When she met up with Kitchens near the front of its habitat, even he couldn’t stop himself from commenting on the creature. “That is indeed an interesting monster.”

“Yeah, I don’t know who designed it, but it is definitely the right mix of beautiful and terrifying.”

“Like a good date,” Kitchens joked from the other side of the boss’s zone, this time actually drawing a laugh out of Kass.

Beautiful and terrifying? What type of dates does he go on? Oh well, time to get a ton of EXP! she thought enthusiastically as she eyed all the enemies in sight. “Shall we?” she said, straightening her back, throwing on her most grumpy face and using her best Darwin voice impression.

“Sounds good,” Kitchens tapped the back of his Drake’s head causing a fireball to shoot out of its mouth at the last pair of Drakes on his side. “Come on AzurWrath, let’s get out of here!”

Kass did her best to mimic Kitchens’ fireball switch, then took off as well. “Let’s beat them back, Toothifer,” she said, holding firmly onto his scales as they passed camp after camp of Blue-Drake’s on the way, shooting fireballs to gather up each group’s aggro. The fire didn’t hurt the drakes at all, but just one attack had the same effect as hitting a hornet’s nest with a baseball bat.

Even though the crowd of winged beasts chasing after Kass kept growing, she was able to maintain a rather sizable and safe distance between her and the closest of them. It wasn’t that they were pausing before following her, it was that she wasn’t slowing down for them, and they took a minute to get into the air and build speed after her. By the time they were up and chasing her, both she and Toothifer were over 150 feet ahead of them. It would have been a smooth and easy trip if it weren’t for one detail--Kitchens was ahead of her.

When she got to the entrance of the dungeon, she found herself with a heavy flank of aggro from the Blue-Drakes that Kitchens was leading on the side, and they were heading in the same direction at roughly the same speed. As one of the drakes that Kitchens had dragged along got closer and closer to Kass, she instinctively started to create space. The problem was, it wasn’t an instinct she should have listened to. The further she got away from it as it tried to come at her while still chasing Kitchens, the more she realized that if she didn’t beat the entire group of them, she would be trying to fight through bodies and bodies of drakes to clamor through the exit.

Crap, why didn’t I think of this before we split up. Kass found herself really starting to worry. If they beat me to that entrance, it’s over, and I forgot to set my new bind stone as the Panda King’s town. If I die, I’ll end up going back to the original bind stone I set. That’ll send me all the way back to Valcrest on noob island!

As the fear built up, she knew she had to do something, but couldn’t figure out what. They’re immune to magic, so I can’t even enchant to slow them down . . . Except, maybe, just maybe, they aren’t immune to everything. Kass grinned. Is this what Darwin feels like when he comes up with one of his ideas? she thought, lifting herself just a bit on Toothifer’s back, high enough to hold her staff with both hands, but low enough that she didn’t get slammed off her mount’s back by the heavy wind their speed was generating. Frost Step, do your trick! she prayed as the spell took hold around her and subsequently Toothifer.

Within moments, the Blue-Drake she was riding had the same familiar blue trails of cold mist flowing out of its four feet and off its wings that she had seen creeping off of Darwin’s every time she had buffed him with the spell. Did it work? She looked around at the flying fiends on her left. So you got the full effect, Toothifer? Now for the tough part.

She hugged the neck of her mount tightly and pulled him softly left so that he started heading straight to the entrance, faster than his competition. The movement speed buff from the Frost Step spell was just enough to help her pull ahead of her pursuers, but she still had to dodge them as she flew past some of the ones in front. One even tried to claw Toothifer’s wing off, but a quick hiss and jerk from Toothifer, without Kass’s prompting, left the wing intact.

When she finally got to the front of the crowd, Kass felt overwhelming relief. There was enough room to cleanly make it through the tunnels without an issue. After she got through, she and Toothifer turned around to watch the massacre. One by one the Blue-Drakes died, opened their newly red-eyes, and climbed through to the other side, each of them lining up in a crescent around the entrance like vultures gathering around a dying man in the desert.

It’s like a right of passage, she observed, noting the mechanical nature in which they would enter a savage, clawing beast and exit a silent, tamed pet. I can’t tell if he’s reviving them, or remaking them.

“Do nothing which is of no use,” Kitchens commented as he climbed down from his Drake, AzurWrath.

“Hmm?” Kass replied, confused.

“For all of Darwin’s rage as the kin of fire, he is still a child of war whose actions show an understanding beyond what his words reveal,” Kitchens walked over to give Kass a hand to help her climb down. “Every move he makes is calculated.”

“And?” Kass didn’t follow. They were killing the beasts because they needed to get to the end of the dungeon unharmed and have a distraction for the boss.

“Do you think Darwin believes that the four of us with flying mounts now at hand could defeat the boss?”

“Yeah, he has that type of confidence.”

“Then it only stands to reason that this army is not for the boss,” Kitchens said, pulling out his katana. “If every action Darwin makes is designed to yield a certain fruit, then what crop shall these seeds yield?”

Kass sat puzzled on top of her drake, which was fine for the conversation since Kitchens had already left to help Minx and Darwin with clearing the mobs out of the hole faster. The thing that had her befuddled the most was that Kitchens was right. She knew she should probably be trying to piece together what an army of Blue-Drakes was for or even thinking about what her own next step would be, but she wasn’t. Instead, she was staring at Darwin as he baptized the Blue-Drakes, one by one, with a single thought running through her head: Was his friendship with me one of use?

Darwin:

Darwin looked over at the Blue-Drakes. He wanted to bring them all into the fight, but half of him was uncertain it was the best idea. Minx had managed to kill the first target of hers without issue, and he had managed to kill most of the Drakes in a few seconds each. He didn’t know exactly how EXP splitting worked, but he knew that if he brought every single one of the Drakes with him, he would be shorted a lot of EXP. Therefore, not wanting to divide his EXP 20 or 30 ways when 8 was enough, one for each member and one for their mounts, he decided he needed to figure out exactly how many he needed to bring and how many he could leave to farm respawns like he had done several times before with the Turtle-Wolves in the old silver ore mine. He probably also needed to . . .Daniel and them!

“Guys, we got a problem,” Darwin flatly announced to the group. “If Daniel and them show up while we’re mid dungeon, whatever Blue-Drakes we leave at the entrance are going to probably be butchered before they realize they are friendly.”

“Nuh Uh! No problem! No Sirree!” Minx shook her head from atop Fuzzy Wuzzy.

“It’s not?” Darwin turned to look at Minx, who was at that time cutting a piece of wood off of a tree.

“Nope! Course not! Fuzzy Wuzzy is here!” Minx gleefully finished pulling a large swath of wood and bark off.

Darwin blinked twice as he stared at Minx in silence. Did this the loopy carefree kid just out think the rest of us and solve a problem before we even realized it was going to be one? “You mean, Fuzzy Wuzzy is going to tell Daniel and them not to kill the red-eyed drakes? You do know that other than me, you seem to be the only one who can understand him, right?”

“Yep yep!” Minx bounced as she nodded then pulled out her daggers and attacked the stripped off piece of wood. “That’s why we leave a sign!” She held up the freshly carved plank. On it, in rather big words, was written a very simple set of instructions: Red Eyes Good! Not Red Eyes Bad! Only Kill Drakes Without Red Eyes! PS. Please Pet Fuzzy Wuzzy.

That’s . . . actually brilliant. Darwin couldn’t help but laugh as a smile grew across his face. When Minx gave the sign to Fuzzy Wuzzy, who obediently held it up, it was somehow the funniest thing Darwin had seen in weeks. Watching Fuzzy Wuzzy hold up the sign with his front paws and slowly shuffle on his two hind legs as if he were a person trying to walk with pants down around his ankles, was enough to make not only Darwin but the other two laugh loudly as well.

“Well, that’s one way to solve the problem. Do you think that, after the dungeon, we can get Fuzzy Wuzzy to hold a sign for a lemonade stand?” Kass chuckled, her grin growing faster than Darwin’s. “I think now I’d actually like to see Fuzzy Wuzzy get that banker’s cap from Burizza, the polar bear boss in the first dungeon, and open up a Fuzzy Wuzzy Emporium. We could sell everything from armor and weapons to clothes--just no rugs. He might find them offensive.”

“What? Not all rugs are bearskin, Kass. Also, how about hair dye? Can you imagine Fuzzy Wuzzy with a different color for his fur?” Darwin joined in musing upon shopkeeper Fuzzy Wuzzy. “I bet purple would be a good color on him.”

“We could get him to dye himself red, and then he could hide in a sunset and completely vanish from sight,” Minx offered. She then made a poof noise as she waved both her open hands in front of her face. “Ninja bear, not just for snow bears.”

Minx, who didn’t seem to understand why all three of them were laughing, just ignored them and walked over with Fuzzy Wuzzy to the entrance of the cave, where she promptly maneuvered him so the sign would be visible to anyone approaching the dungeon.

Kitchens, jovially laughing with the two, ended the fun though. “I think it’s about time to get moving unless you want to wait around for Valerie and the rest.”

“No, even though this is dungeon is clearly ranked higher than average, there is still the chance that another group may find it and try to clear it.” Darwin walked towards Minx at the entrance, signaling the other Drakes to join him inside the mountain.

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Early bird gets the worm,” Kitchens said, going through with his Drake, AzurWrath, before any of the others even reached the entrance.

Next, Kass and Toothifer popped through the hole without a word. Kass kept chuckling, but Darwin wasn’t sure why. Darwin could only guess that it was because she was still picturing Minx and Fuzzy Wuzzy standing beside the cave entrance with the sign as if they were hitchhikers trying to get noticed.

While they were crawling through one at a time, Darwin noticed one drake was even darker than the others. The scales varied in hue from beast to beast, some bright blue and some tinted dark to almost black, but this particular one was black as freshly poured asphalt at night. Holy mother of awesome clichés! Darwin started to find himself just as excited as Kass had been earlier. That’s a black dragon! He quickly glanced at Kass and Kitchens to see if they noticed it, and then just hopped into the cave behind the drake before the next one came up in line and climbed up on its back. This is so cool, he thought.

Unlike Kass, who had managed to embody a squeegasm when she saw the Blue-Drakes for the first time, Darwin did his best to maintain his cool demeanor as he took off into the sky on his new black dragon. “Alright, Kass, run the same path as last time, and make sure Minx keeps up. Just point and let the ZombiDrakes know where the enemy groups were so we can have them camped before the respawn. Kitchens, you run the path you ran last time, and I’m going to follow you,” he commanded from atop his black mount.

“Do I have to ride one?” Minx asked from below. “Can’t I just walk?”

“Do you want to have to fight a pack of six of them if things go wrong?” Darwin worried that the comment might have been too close to home for her.

“Fine, I’ll get on one. But his name will be Scaley Waley, and he better be friendly with Fuzzy Wuzzy,” Minx crawled up the tail until she sat atop the neck of the nearest Drake.

“Got it. Let’s go, Minx! Let’s prove that we’re faster than the boys!” Kass shouted and took off. Minx, her new Scaley Waley and half the Blue-Drakes chased after Kass. Minx looked like she was holding on for dear life as her new mount reached faster and faster speeds.

“We could go super fast and try to beat them there,” Kitchens started to lead AzurWrath off for a moment as he calmly flew down his route with Darwin, “or we could have a cup of tea, let them think they won and be the happier for it.”

“Do you have any tea in your inventory?” Darwin wouldn’t put it past Kitchens.

“Unfortunately, no,” Kitchens said, frowning.

“Then I suppose that only leaves us one option.” Darwin was about to shoot off with his new flying ride when Kitchens held up a hand for him to wait.

“But, in lieu of tea, I do have some nice cold Japanese sake that I may have picked up in town. For some reason, no matter how long I keep it in my inventory, it will always stays chilled.” He pulled a bottle with odd Japanese words on it out of thin air. “Will this do in the absence of tea?”

“I suppose it will, but is there any reason you’re stalling me?” Darwin questioned the man who was already pouring out two glasses skillfully.

“A father must always let his daughter believe she won,” Kitchens smiled, “and it’s rare that I get to drink with a friend these days.”

“Fair enough,” Darwin eagerly flew close and took a cup of the sake that Kitchens had just poured, “but let’s not be too slow about it. We still have a boss to kill.”

“Indeed. Kanpai,” he said, raising his glass.

“Cheers,” Darwin raised his glass and then took a sip. It was a weird experience, drinking sake in the middle of a dungeon on the way to a boss.

Kitchens took another sip of his sake, and then, after a moment, he finally asked what had clearly been on his mind. “You’re going to try to kill the Panda King after this, aren’t you? That’s why you keep stealing everything we kill that has any value, right?”

“I’m afraid I won’t have a choice. Those ninjas were sent before we had even hinted of treachery. You know what he’ll do once he finds out we didn’t kill his enemies, but empowered them.” Darwin found himself enjoying the taste of cold sake much more than the thought of what was to come.

“So you wish to cast the first stone?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. I’d rather avoid fighting altogether. Any fight will lead to death on both sides. And last time I checked, death isn’t a good thing no matter how you get there. Also, I have no claim on the lands, but my people have been forcibly made into vagabonds, so I’m going to have to settle down eventually. They deserve to rest their head on their own pillow in their own home one day.” Darwin took another sip of the sake. The entire situation, two men sipping sake and discussing politics atop winged serpents in the middle of a dungeon on their way to a boss with dozens of Blue-Drakes following them, was surreal and nothing like his usual gaming experience; but, for some reason, Darwin rather enjoyed not grinding for a change, a thing that he would never have imagined in his life before Tiqpa.

“And this is where you wish to make that last stand? In a dead volcano?” Kitchens made an obvious point of looking around. “Seems almost too fitting given I’ve been calling you fire.”

“I’m hoping it’ll be less of a last stand and more of just an average week day,” Darwin chuckled.

“Are you going to bolster your forces past only a few players and NPCs?” Kitchens wondered aloud. “I imagine if you were to tell people that they could ride their own Blue-Drake, you’d have volunteers from among the high-Level players in the region.”

The idea of recruiting players and not just NPCs didn’t sit well at all with Darwin for some reason. He liked Kitchens and Minx well enough, and Daniel, Valerie and Mclean were fun to talk to, but the thought of any others left a sinking feeling in his stomach like he had swallowed a giant ball of lead, and it was working it’s way down his gut. “I haven’t considered that.”

“I’ve read many times about the need for a warrior to have a general and resolute acceptance of death, that he must understand and accept his fate before even unsheathing his sword.” Kitchens sipped his sake again. “But accepting that you will one day die and giving up now are two different things. Consider your options carefully before rejecting a great force like the players of this realm, especially when they are likely to be your enemies if they are not your allies.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Darwin nodded, understanding that if he didn’t find a way to pull players to his side in the upcoming war, they were likely to side with the King. He had been able to fight the ninjas, but even for him it had been a tough battle.

“Fair enough . . . and don’t tell Minx we were drinking before a fight.” Kitchens finished off his sake and put the glass away. Darwin tossed his glass over to Kitchens after he was done so he could stash it too.

“Shall we?” Darwin said, riding up to the giant platform hosting the boss.

“I need to tell Kass her impression was perfect,” Kitchens snickered.

“What?” Darwin asked, missing the punchline entirely.

“Nothing. They’re waiting. Let’s do this.” Kitchens shot off towards Kass and Minx on the other side of the arena.

On the way over, the massive, iridescent, feathered dragon perked its head up and started flying directly at Kitchens and AzurWrath. While maintaining the shape of a western-style, European-themed dragon, it was the size of three wooly mammoths.

Crap, he’s spotted us before the fight even started. Darwin panicked, looking around at the drakes behind him. Do I call for backup, or can we do this?

“Darwin!” Kass yelled when she saw the dragon move. “We’re on our way!” Kass kicked off with Minx like bullets towards the two men. It was starting to look like all five of them, the dragon and the four players, were going to collide in mid-air until the suicidal game of chicken came to a close with Kitchens and Darwin pulling up and Kass and Minx diving down as the dragon barreled past the dreaded collision point.

Once the dragon realized that it had missed its target, it stretched its wings to their full span to stop its forward momentum, creating a giant gust of wind and almost instantly halting it in the air. It then yanked its tail around to slice at Kitchens and Darwin. Kitchens dodged it, but Darwin’s drake wasn’t fast enough. The jet-black dragon barely managed to lift its arms and legs up to brace for impact as the tail came sliding into it, the force of the hit throwing Darwin off his comfortable seat and sending him flying up the drake’s neck.

Kitchens, who saw the whole thing, flew over to catch Darwin, but it was too late. Darwin wasn’t falling where Kitchens had thought he would. Instead, Darwin had managed to sink his blade into the tail of the boss as it rushed past him with his black mount carried away by it, leaving him hanging off the tail long enough to slow his fall and throw his trajectory a good ten or twenty feet higher than Kitchens had anticipated. Luckily for Darwin, Kass and Minx had gone under the dragon during the turn, and Minx was able to get herself positioned in time to catch Darwin.

“Forget his eye; I caught the whole guy!” Minx laughed as she held Darwin with impressive strength in the same fashion as the knight always caught the damsel back in children’s movies. The princess-like-carry turned out to be a rather awkward position for Darwin, who sat overflowing her small arms.

“Ummm, thanks, but, could you . . .” Darwin motioned at the feathered dragon. “You know, throw me on that guy?”

“Sure sure! Minx the Lynx can do it all!” she laughed excitedly, pulling her drake up and charging the dragon.

Kitchens circled with Kass around the flanks of the dragon, looking for an opening, while Minx just went straight up the middle in her usual, haphazard fashion. The feathered fiend turned and faced her, wings still spread out as it hovered in the air, and opened its mouth to release a giant, elephant-sized blast of molten-hot fire breath. Darwin flinched at first as the fiery torrent pummeled into Scaley Waley, but Minx didn’t even blink, she just kept pressing forward. Sure enough, the angle of the drake’s head was just right that the scales on its head and neck took the entire hit of the flames leaving her unscathed.

As Minx got closer, the dragon started reaching out with its front claws to try and either swipe or grab her, but she, still holding Darwin in her arms, tossed Darwin like a hot potato right into the dragon’s chest and dove under the monster to avoid the mauling.

Darwin, soaring through the air in an awkward arms-flailing fashion as if he were an inflatable tube man, managed to land straight on the foe’s chest, where he would have just bounced right off if his Burizza’s Blade hadn’t managed to sink far enough in to create sufficient leverage to swing himself back towards the beast.

“You got it?” Kass asked, circling under the boss just far enough away to stay out of immediate attack range.

“Yeah, I think I got it,” Darwin grunted as he dug his second Burriza in. Then, at the last minute, he rolled across the dragon’s chest and out of the way of an incoming claw intent on removing him. “Kitchens, can you get on its back? I’m hurting it here, but it’s barely anything at all. We’re going to need to get its neck.”

“Got it,” Kitchens said, diving onto the back of the almost stationary dragon as it kept swiping and pawing with its front claws in a mad grab to swat the pesky Darwin-fly.

Darwin wished he could see how well Kitchens was fairing on the back, but, as soon as he landed, it was evident he had done something. The dragon started to spin around in the air faster than a tea cup carnival ride, throwing Darwin to first one side and then the next as he changed directions, the whole time shooting out fire balls that landed harmlessly on the four Drakes circling him.

“I’m at his neck on this side, can you make your way up his chest on that one?” Kitchens called out below.

“Yeah, I can try,” Darwin did his best to dodge the flailing dragon arms as he dug his Burizza’s Blades, one after another, into the dragon's chest and climbed its scaly exterior like a ladder up to its neck. “I’m ready on this side! You still good?”

“Behead the beast!” Kitchens shouted, and he and Darwin both stabbed the giant oak tree sized neck. The shrieks that came out of the dragon as it reeled in pain midair were loud enough to physically hurt Darwin, and it took every bit of willpower he was able to muster up in order to not grab his ears in pain. Finally, relief from the screams came when his blade finished severing the boss’s jugular and cut into the windpipe. It was going smoothly except that, at this point, the nearly dead dragon’s wings fell limp, and where it once was hovering in the air, it now began to sink little by little as gravity bore it downwards.

“Minx! Kass! Can you get us off this thing?” Darwin yelled for help from his two companions as soon as the creature began plummeting towards the ground, happy to find Kass and Toothifer waiting for him as soon as he pressed off from the creature’s neck.

After the boss crashed into the ground, Darwin was preparing himself for the next phase of the battle on land. Instead, what he saw was the beast writhing around in pain like bacon trying to avoid touching the pan as it flapped about in its own guts

A familiar message popped up in front of him:

You have reached Level 50!

Please choose from one of these abilities:

Ketchup is a vegetable! (Passive) - Heal 1% life every 3 seconds blood splatter is on you during combat.

If you can't find the right nutrition for your meal, just pretend like ketchup is a vegetable.  My school did.

Knock off the horns, brush off the hair, and run it through the kitchen! (Passive) - +10% to flat elemental resistance.  +10% additional resistance to fire magic.

Extra crispy is only good for chicken fingers, not a good slab of beef.  Make sure to always order your steaks rare or don't even bother.

Tiqpa, I pick ‘Ketchup is a Vegetable!’ Darwin answered without a second thought. Elemental resistance was key, but every enemy he had encountered so far bled, and he desperately needed ways to heal since they lacked a proper support class.

“What did we get? What did we get? What did we get?” Minx practically bubbled as she bounced as much as ran to the fallen boss for loot.

“Well it seems there is only a blade, a staff, a bangle, and a really large stone,” Kitchens said, going through the loot.

“What? No daggers? That’s not fair!” Minx frowned with a harumph and threw her arms over her chest.

“Well, like I said, there is a bangle, Band of Feathers. Do you want it?” Kitchens offered his daughter an actual band of feathers, iridescent like the dragon.

“And the staff?”

“Here you go,” Kitchens handed her a black staff with red flames crawling up and down the sides of it. The flames must have been for decoration though because none of them seemed to burn either Kitchens as he passed it to Kass or Kass as she held it.

“So what’s with the stone and the sword?” Darwin asked, wondering which one he would get.

“Well, the sword isn’t really suited to any of us. It’s one of those squiggly-bladed zweihanders, albeit a cool one. I still don’t see one of us wielding it,” Kitchens said, pulling out the flamberge. As if to match the theme, the entire blade was burning.

“I could give it a try.” Darwin took the blade out of Kitchens’ hands. Dragon’s Final Hymn: 485 Damage, +30 Power, +20 Speed, +10% Fire Resistance, Damage is halved when dual-wielding. Well, this feels comfortable enough, Darwin thought. He felt a rush as he swung the sword back and forth in front of him. “This thing is actually really cool,” he said, grinning and watching the lava-like flames that dripped and flung off of the blade as it arced through the air.

“You’re welcome to the blade, but I think this last one is meant for the faction,” Kitchens said as he tossed a red and black stone to Darwin, who had to quickly put his new zweihander away so he would have a free hand to catch it.

“What is it?” Kass popped up on Darwin’s side and eyed the stone.

“Heart of Fire. When owned by a faction, it grants all faction members a bonus of 5% Damage and 1% Vitality.” Darwin blinked a few more times and probably would have rubbed his eyes if his hands weren’t busy holding on to the rock.

“That’s amazing,” Kass said. Minx and Kitchens slowly nodding their agreement as they all stared at the rock.

“Yes, yes, it is.” Darwin smiled. Things were working out better than he could have hoped for.

Chapter 8:  Guilty Pleasure

Qasin:

Qasin felt his blood boiling as the beady eyes of the citizens stared at him and Eve. He saw the way their eyes squinted, their teeth gritted, and he heard the way their voice shifted from higher pitches to lower tones. He knew why they were staring. This wasn’t fame; this was disgust. These were the same beady eyes he had grown to know and loathe from the Human Council, and just that connection made his hand grip even harder on the hilt of his sword as he walked through the streets of the Animal Kingdom’s capital. It took every ounce of his willpower to not slice them all open from front to back.

“Careful.” Eve put her hand on Qasin’s shoulder as his eyes began to harden. “Don’t let your rage give up our strategic advantage.”

“Did you not recently divulge to me that, with certainty, you knew he wouldn’t be here?” Qasin could feel his face reddening as the stares kept following him, but it wasn’t just the disgust that drew his ire. He was used to being hated. He was used to being the worthless monarch who let his people lose land and borders to White-Horns and Black-Wings. It was the scene replaying through his mind, that girl getting thrown to the ground and pushed around. It was the way he had watched them treat a seemingly respectable person like trash because she was Human and the knowledge that it was the same with him. They weren’t looking him over with hatred, but rather they were looking down on him with disdain.

“I did, and I can guarantee it. He is not here anymore.” Eve straightened her back and removed her hand from Qasin’s shoulder.

“Then why must we remain in this irksome place? The only remedy that could possibly cure these ingrates of their twisted disposition is a good blade.”

“And I agree, but we aren’t the ones to deliver it to them. We need them as bodies in our plan,” Eve spoke in a hushed tone, signaling with her hands for Qasin to do the same. “Remember, every day we’ve been away from Darwin, his forces have likely grown stronger. He won’t be the easy man to reach that he once was.”

“Why do his forces matter? I thought our goal was merely to find him.” Qasin turned his head to look at her. What am I missing here?

“Because, when we go to visit him, we have to steal him from Stephanie,” Eve grumbled. “We weren’t able to snag him before she got his hands on him.”

“I thought you said that you met up with him prior to their introduction.”

“Yes, I did; but, since I needed more time to finish preparations, I sent him to go get something for me. Unfortunately, she had already killed everything in the dungeon he was supposed to retrieve the item from, and she had assumed the position of the boss there. She used the reward as a way to sink her claws into him.” Eve was unusually irate. Normally, she gave roundabout, vague answers, but now it was all being clearly spelled out. She was past the point of peeved, and every mention of the name Stephanie caused her red eyes to burn brighter like a fresh ember being struck by wind.

“So we have to fight our way through his entire army because you don’t think he’ll listen to you? How is he going to be more likely to listen to you after that?”

“It’s not going to be about convincing him anymore. It’ll be about stopping him,” Eve said. Then, after making a loud huffing sound, she added, “And that’s enough of the subject. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“The last I remember, you were the one accusing me of rushing to violence.” Qasin smirked for the first time since they had entered the city. She had been holding his lack of diplomacy over him at every opportunity, yet now she wanted to go to war before even starting the discussion.

“Diplomacy ended almost thirty years ago.” Eve shifted her eyes again, but the crimson flare was visible.

They kept walking in silence, the eyes of everyone following them until they reached the royal palace. There, they were greeted by two tiger-men who stood in front of a white gate that blocked their entrance to a set of stairs leading up to the main palace. “They keep popping up everywhere,” the first guard said as Eve and Qasin approached. “How this filth keeps making it through the gates, I’ll never understand. Someone should fire the guards that let them slip into our pure and beautiful city.”

“You know we can hear you gents.” A smile spread across Eve’s face as she walked defiantly up to the jabbering Pantheras. “Don’t you think it’s a bit rude to talk about your guests like that?”

“Ugh, the wannabe monkey is talking to us,” the guard on the left said, looking down at Eve.

“I have been told there is more than one way to skin a cat,” Qasin threatened as he did his best to repress the bile brought up by being around such scum. The threat wasn’t idle, either. It was taking everything in his power just to stop his weapon from quenching its thirst. “Should we try a few out?”

“Do you hear that? He’s saying our lives are in mortal danger,” the right guard pulled up his halberd into fighting position. “I believe that means we get to kill him, and it won’t be breaking the peace. We’ll be enforcing it.”

“Kill him? Why don’t we start with hurting and work our way from there? I love to hear his kind scream, and that woman . . .” The other guard also grabbed his halberd, a wicked grin growing across both their faces as they licked their lips and readied themselves for the fight.

“Stop it,” a panda who was passing by called from above. “The two of you would not win a struggle with them if you trained for a hundred years, and I’d rather not lose any of my children to wanton violence.”

“I take it you are the King we have come to seek an audience with.” Eve ignored the two guards and walked right past them. “My name is Eve, and I believe you’ll want to hear what we have to say.”

Qasin glared at the two guards for a minute and then followed Eve up the stairs to meet with the Panda King.

“I consider myself more of a father than a King, but I suppose you could title me such.” The Panda King turned and began to saunter to the gardens on the side of the palace. “Now, if you’ll excuse my bluntness--time being a commodity I don’t always have--what brings two Humans reeking with the smell of burnt blood and steel to my doorstep?”

“News, Your Excellency, dire news. A man came through here a while ago, eyes red like mine and skin just as pale. I’m sure he stood out,” Eve said, her head moving very slightly as she followed the Panda King’s expression.

“Yes, I remember the young man. He had great potential,” the King scratched his chin thoughtfully. “He was a very bright, talented and helpful lad. He is currently aiding us in solving many of our bandit issues. He should be back shortly. Why do you ask?”

“Are the bandits Human?” Eve followed up.

“Yes?” The Panda paused, looking at Qasin, whose hand had gripped the hilt to the point his knuckles were white. He continued as if he owed an explanation: “You know how our Kingdom goes through waves of species revolts. It’s nothing against Humans in particular. It was Felines before them.”

“Well, that’s perfect. If I’m not mistaken, right now his way of getting rid of your bandit problem is to condense them into a single trained, armored, unified army,” Eve matter-of-factly stated.

“How did you come across this knowledge?”

“Were you visited by a golden-haired woman, someone you thought you knew and trusted, who told you he could take care of the bandits who have been plaguing you?”

“I was. She did.” The Panda King’s face crinkled up as his brow furrowed.

“She likely told you that you would come across a great swordsman and that you needed to send him specifically to solve your bandit problems,” Eve pressed, the physical distance between her and the Panda closing as she drew closer to the heart of the matter.

“She did . . .” He looked at the ground then back up at Eve. “What is your next guess concerning our encounter?” the panda queried.

“My next guess is that she told you he was a threat, but you couldn’t kill him yourself.” Eve slowly moved around the stunned King until she was at his side. “I’m guessing she even had a suggestion on how to kill him: that you needed to use one of the people who just came off the boat, a mercenary in the land, so the trail wouldn’t come back to you. Then, when your first attempt failed, she told you to send him out again while she put something together for him?”

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, young miss. I know nothing of you, and you know a great deal of me, don’t you?” The Panda King’s eyes narrowed as they focused intently on Eve.

“Of you? Little. Of the woman, everything.” Eve grinned.

“You said the news was dire. What threat has she manifested within my realm?” The Panda King’s voice had gone from an overly-friendly, gentle tone to one that stung sharply like thorns on the ears.

“That man, the one you sent to handle the bandits, has united them by now. He is converting them to be the blood of his blood and gathering an army even as we speak. He will tirelessly work to recruit the beasts and villains of this land every minute of every hour of every day until he is stopped, and if he is not stopped in time, his men will march across this city and burn it and all its people.” Eve painted the picture of his marching and burning of the town with her hands as well as her words. “He. Will. End. Everyone.”

“That’s preposterous. We could hold off every enemy from here to the ends of Tiqpa without them ever even breaking down our initial fortifications,” the Panda King scoffed.

“You don’t understand. Once they join him, they will be stronger, faster, smarter and more organized than they ever were before. They will be slaves to his blood and blessed by his strength. Imagine the toughest beast in those wilds. He will capture it. Then another and then another. His numbers will double, triple and then quadruple, continuing to grow every day. Every day, the ones he takes will grow exponentially faster than you are prepared for. He’s already crushed an entire White-Wing army, and he was in his infancy, just beginning to understand his power.” She stepped back, regaining a normal distance from the King. “Do you really want to wait for his forces to grow even stronger?”

“And why am I to believe you? Who is to say you aren’t playing a game with me like you claim that blonde woman did,” the Panda King scoffed. “He brought me a head, the head of the leader of the camp I sent him to clear. He didn’t convert them, he killed them. I have more reason to trust her than you.”

“Just a head though, right? Only one? Send a scout. You have plenty to spare in times of peace. One shouldn’t be a strain. Send one scout, and have him explore and check the base of the men you sent him to kill. I guarantee you will only find one body, the body of their old leader,” Eve turned and confidently started walking down the stairs away from the palace. Qasin, still silently watching the exchange, still wishing it were one of violence and not words, turned and followed after her. “When your scouts report back, they will tell you that they found no bodies. That all the camps you thought he had cleared of the bandit infestation had not a single sign of death except that of their leaders. Then you will know what I said was true, and then you will come and find me. But since that won't be for a while, I'm going to get some lunch while I wait.”

The befuddled panda stayed atop the stairs, watching as they left.

“Are you certain this is the right course of action?” Qasin probed again. “He is your brother, after all. Are you sure you cannot reason with him?”

“Qasin, you might not understand this, but when it comes to Stephanie, there is no other option. Whatever games you try to play with, she invented them. Whatever logic you try to twist, she wrote the book on how to twist it.” Eve’s confidence momentarily crumbled. Her lips quivered and her very eyes seemed to shudder. “If we don’t stop her here, all is lost.”

Qasin, who clearly caught the expression, sighed. He had followed her all the way here to chase her brother, and yet every day it was more doom and gloom prophecies regarding this woman, Stephanie. The confident, strong, beautiful woman he had tailed across an ocean was now quivering in the capital where she meant to beg for an army. Was this help absolutely necessary? Was he useless to her? Was the situation really so desperate? The questions rattled through his mind as they stirred up a wave of heat and anger from his belly, a rage that made his hand want to move when it should stay still--a madness that fueled his blade’s thirst, and reminded him that no matter how pretty the thought of diplomacy might be, it was only a matter of time until he would need to fight again.

Darwin:

While Darwin, Kass, Kitchens and Minx were going through the boss loot and playing around with the new items they had found, the three White-Wings approached from the air above holding a piece of wood, the same piece that Minx had carved up earlier with directions to not kill any of the red-eyed Blue-Drakes.

“The Fuzzy Wuzzy ultimate furball signpost worked! It work worked!” Minx bounced as she noticed them carrying her sign. “Wait wait, fuzzy Fuzzy WUZZY! Where did he go? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He just turned around and left the cave when he saw the Blue-Drakes respawning. How did you manage to get some of those things to kill the others? I don’t blame the bear for leaving. It was creepy watching a drake kill six others while they respawned right when we came through the entrance,” Mclean answered, her face momentarily going from slightly scrunched up to normal before immediately turning back. “Wait, did you guys just kill the boss?”

“Yeah, we did. It was awesome! He had giant feathers like a hummingbird and a tail that was all woosh swoosh and swoosh woosh,” Minx cheered.

“It was a dragon?” Valerie’s face lit up. “Did it breath fire, or was it ice? Did it have any special abilities like making tornados or--” she managed to get out before she was cut off by Mclean, whose flat stoic visage made her mood impossible to read.

“So you killed the dragon without us?” She stared at Darwin, who didn’t even get a chance to answer before Daniel joined in on the attack.

“I see how it is. Didn’t want to wait for us at all?” Daniel complained. “We rushed back here with good news after doing a job well done, and you guys went ahead and cleared the boss without us?”

“Hey, it was his idea,” Kass immediately shifted the blame to Darwin. “We just do whatever the boss tells us to do.”

“So I’m the boss now,” Darwin chuckled. “Could have sworn you said you wouldn’t ever be calling me Lord Darwin, but now that it’s time to shift the blame, here I am, boss of bosses and one hundred percent responsible for all the wrongdoings.”

“That is how it works, Boss,” Kitchens jumped up to throw Darwin under the boss-bus too. “You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“Yep yep! Darwin made us do it! He was all mean bossy facey, going, ‘Kill the boss with me or I’ll kill you! Rawr!’ Minx the Lynx was scared,” Minx said, making sure the blame was properly centered.

“Ack, you two as well? Mutiny!” Darwin was now joined by the others in his laugh. The three newly arrived members weren’t in the best of spirits, as their grumpy faces showed, but they still joined in with laughing at the leader turned scapegoat.

“The loyalty runs thick in the StormGuard Alliance, I see,” Daniel mused.

“Hey, I think it’s wise not to joke about that when Alex might be here any minute,” Mclean protested their joking, but wasn’t able to get her face to match her words. “If he heard a joke about the faction he might bring back capital punishment.”

“Hmm. That is a good point. Throwing the fearless leader to the wolves may get us all killed by Alex,” Valerie nodded, her own suppressed laughter making her snort and then turn red when everyone looked at her.

While the joke about Alex’s seriousness didn’t ring as true to Darwin, Kass and the two new members of the faction as it did for the three White-Wings, Darwin could still imagine from his limited interactions with Alex about how right Valerie was. He often speculated that the true power behind whatever leadership position there was in the StormGuard Alliance was mostly derived from Alex and his commitment, and he would easily kill anyone who stood in the way of the faction.

“Anyways, I’d love to keep the banter going, but I really must get to sleep. I can’t pull the two-day gaming sessions I used to, being an old man and all.” Kitchens bowed his head a bit and then logged off.

“Yeah, I have something work related soon. I need to get sleep for it. You said this was going to be our base in the future?” Kass asked as she looked around at the place. “Like with the silver ore mine?”

“Yeah, once Alex finishes setting it up, it should feel nice and cozy like home,” Daniel intercepted Darwin’s question. “He’s been preparing to put it together for a while, and from what I can tell so far, it’s going to be pretty epic.”

“Great, then I need to get going. See you all later!” Kass also disappeared into the real world.

“I should sleep as well. Later gator!” Minx logged off next.

“So, it’s just us four. What do you guys want to do?” Darwin said, looking at the trio of bird people.

“Well, how long does it take for a boss to respawn?” Mclean looked over at the empty spot. “Can we kill it again?”

“It depends how long you have to play. Are you going to be up really late?” Darwin asked, remembering how long it took him to get a second Burizza’s Blade.

“I would if it respawned quickly. I do want to fight a giant dragon like that, but . . . Yeah, I need to get to bed too.” Mclean joined the magicians of the disappearing act and faded into thin air.

“You two?” Darwin grasped at straws. He needed to level, and groups were the best for it, but at this rate there wouldn’t be a group left.

“My mother wakes me up at the same time every morning. I need to go, or I’ll be miserable.” Valerie did a mini bow, and then, before signing off, she added one more statement: “Also, I know you’re not an NPC now!”

“Well, that was odd,” Darwin looked at the empty spot where Valerie was. “I’m assuming there is a story behind that outburst?”

“Yeah, but it’s kind of long, and I think since I’m the last one here, I kind of have to tell you something else first,” Daniel looked over at a camp of Blue-Drakes that was about to spawn. “How ‘bout I tell you over some good, old-fashioned spawn camping?”

“Sounds fun, and I could use a few more ZombiDrakes,” Darwin eyed his future minions.

“Yeah, about that, can I get one? I think a good old flying drake named Sparky would be nice,” Daniel said as he took to the skies.

That’s right, his main attack is a dive, Darwin remembered as Daniel took off into the air, and I believe he said I would run faster with him. “Hey, wait, why do you need a Drake? Can’t you already fly?”

“Sure, but I’m assuming most people who can walk still prefer a bike or a car,” Daniel called down from the sky. “By the way, like the new movement buff?”

Darwin hadn’t noticed it at first, but as soon as Daniel mentioned it, he realized he actually was moving a lot faster. It wasn’t noticeable at first because he often matched his pace for his group, or, rather, Kass specifically. Her Speed stat was significantly lower than his, so he didn’t like to get too far ahead and made it a habit of going slowly for her sake; but, with Daniel’s buff, it seemed like he was almost gliding across the ground. “It’s really impressive. Will it stack with Kass’s Frost Step buff?”

“It should. Generally, all buffs stack, even if they do so with diminishing returns. I know a lot of MMOs like to say that you can only get one buff of any given type or from a certain class, but this isn’t one of those MMOs. They don’t want to cut the legs off groups that show Job Class unity, so to speak.” Daniel dove into a spawning mob, almost killing it instantly, but the second Blue-Drake he attacked took a lot longer to kill even though it was still in the idle phase where it didn’t fight back.

So it’s like a one-bullet gun, Darwin thought as he watched Daniel land a series of well placed dagger attacks into the drake. “By the way, you said you were going to tell me something, right? Is it related to the bandits I sent you to get?”

“Ah, yeah, about that, they’re on their way with a few more camps too,” Daniel did a few fancy katas on another unmoving mob before just jumping into the sky again.

You should have done that in the first place, Darwin snickered to himself. “How did you manage to talk so many into it that quickly?”

“Well, the thing is, we didn’t actually talk them into it.” Daniel’s one shot, one kill dive ripped open another Drake, splitting the head in half. “You did.”

“I did?” Darwin blinked. “That doesn’t make any sense. I don’t remember even meeting them, and . . .” Darwin looked at Daniel pulling up into the air again for another shotgun, “Actually, I have an idea.”

“Yeah?” Daniel dove in for another kill.

Darwin noticed that their sprint had been perfectly timed. The way Kitchens and Kass had originally pulled the mobs, the back ones respawned first except for the very first group, which had been cleared separately, and everything else would spawn after those in the order in which they were killed. That meant that Darwin and Daniel could essentially run the entire gauntlet of the area so long as they were fast, and, with his movement speed buff, they were fast.

“Stay on the ground. I know you don’t do as much damage, but prep as many of the kills for me as you can. Get them to one health so I can finish them off,” Darwin said as he stabbed another cleanly in the middle of its forehead, converting it to one of his following.

“Any particular reason?”

“I have to get more rides for our StormGuard Alliance. Nothing says, ‘bad to the bone faction,’ like a bunch of bathrobe-wearing Demons riding into battle on their Blue-Drakes, don’t you think?” Darwin couldn’t help but picture the sight. I really hope they all have flap protection built into these new fancy robes. He grimaced at the image.

“Yeah, it does sound like a good idea. Sure, I’ll help.” Daniel stopped his dive killing and started prepping enemies for Darwin. It wasn’t much, given how much more damage Darwin did over Daniel, but it did speed the process up.

“So you were telling me about how I somehow managed to recruit a bunch of bandits without realizing?” Darwin asked as he continued to convert one Drake after another.

“Yeah, I was kind of surprised about that too. Have you perchance met a golden-haired goddess anytime recently?”

“Well, if you’re asking me about a beautiful blonde, there is Stephanie, but I’m not entirely sure she’s a goddess.” Darwin’s forehead wrinkled as he tried to imagine what in the world Daniel was actually asking. The two statements didn’t seem connected, but he wouldn’t have mentioned them back to back if they weren’t.

“She’s blonde? Hmm, you think that’s a rare trait around here? A blonde girl?” Daniel thought aloud. “I mean, have you met a blonde among the NPCs in this region?”

“No, I don’t think I have. Every single Human NPC has been either brown or black haired. There hasn’t even been a redhead,” Darwin began to see where Daniel was going with his logic.

“Well, that’s prolly cause they don’t have hair dyes yet,” Daniel laughed. “Once they figure that out, there will be a bunch of upholstery questions on every bachelor’s mind.”

Darwin almost snorted as he laughed at the inappropriate joke. “Wait. Back to topic. I have only met one blonde the entire time I have been in Tiqpa. Are you hinting at what I think you are?”

“I’m not hinting at anything. It’s spelled out pretty clearly,” Daniel said as he opened up another Drake for Darwin to finish off. “Unless Tiqpa has a religion that hasn’t been mentioned in any of the books before, I think I’d have a talk with your girlfriend.”

“Hmmm, what did the people have to say, exactly?” Darwin probed further. “Was it just that the Golden Goddess had come and told them to join me?”

“No, it was creepier than that. They were told that you were to be their savior. That they should rest all of their hopes and dreams on you.” Daniel frowned. “It made me wonder, was it easy to convert the citizens Valcrest into the StormGuard Alliance?”

“It was. It was actually surprisingly easy. I got a title, and then, after everyone of importance died, I was made into the de-facto leader.”

“But only the heavily-populated areas of town were burned, right?” Daniel drew a wince from Darwin as he forced the past events back into his mind.

“No, you’re right. It was the market areas that were demolished.” Darwin cringed. He had done his best not to think about it, not to remember the dead people everywhere. Not to remember how the people, the first people who were ever actually kind to him, were laid out dead on the ground like bags of garbage scattered in a wind storm before he had ever gotten a chance to really know them. Just the recollection left him with a pained expression on his face.

“So if only those were burned, how did the Mayor or Village Chief, both people who would be likely to live on a large estate away from other people, end up dead?” Daniel’s words made Darwin wince once more.

“ . . . I must confess,” Darwin said as he shook his head clear of the disturbing visuals, “I was so busy trying to keep myself and everyone else alive that I never actually thought about it.” Pieces began to click together inside Darwin’s head. His hands began to move on auto pilot, slaying drake after drake as his mind began searching for an explanation other than the conspiracy that Daniel was laying out.

“Look, I’m not going to press the matter,” Daniel explained. “I did my homework. We know for a fact who sacked Valcrest and why they did it. It was players, not NPCs. I’m not trying to blame Stephanie for some terrible crime, and I don’t think even if she did kill the Mayor or the Village Chief or whoever was in charge, it was for the worst.” Daniel did his best to keep his voice gentle. Darwin could tell he knew he was walking on eggshells with each syllable, “Hell,” Daniel’s voice continued shakily, “I’ve been sent on so many missions to kill NPCs whose only crime was not being part of the reigning faction in an area that I couldn’t even count the number of sentient bodies I’d piled up before I realized they weren’t just mobs in a game. At a certain point, it was just a fact I couldn’t ignore: the way the Fire-Walkers plotted, hated and schemed and the way Valerie’s superior had such a weird, self-sacrificing, romantic end. There was just no way they were simply mobs. ”

“I know the feeling. Even now I’m left wondering: how real were the things I’ve killed in the game before now? How intelligent are the rest of the mobs in this game? If Fuzzy Wuzzy can think and show emotions, can the other bears?” Unlike Daniel, Darwin said this all with a steady voice. It didn’t shake or even hint a change in emotion. “I kept wondering that for a long time. The thought ‘I just killed a regular guy playing poker with his friends or a harmless hare making breakfast for himself just because I needed their EXP and items’ stayed with me longer than I could have imagined.”

“But then?” Daniel managed to look at Darwin for a moment even as he continued his murderous work. “What changed?”

“Responsibility. If I don’t kill the boss making breakfast, he either kills me, or I go home too weak to protect my people. Since the moment I landed in Tiqpa, someone has been trying to kill me off. So at first, I didn’t have time to think about why I was stabbing the crazy idiot charging me in the field. After that, I had an entire people to worry about. By the time I realized what impact I was making, I already had too many reasons to ignore it. I had too many burdens to also carry the weight of my enemy’s sorrow.” Darwin hesitated and then decided to let the sentence end there.

“So that’s it? The StormGuard Alliance is why you are okay with it?” Daniel’s wry smile betrayed his eyes. “There is nothing more?”

There was, though, a fact that he couldn’t escape. A fact that he knew deep down from the very first moment his foot crushed the burglar’s face in. “No, that’s not it,” he admitted. It wasn’t something he should admit, but it was no longer something he could lie to himself about. “It’s also the fact that I like the thrill of the fight and the rush of the kill,” he said with a frown. Just saying it out loud felt like he had ripped a bandaid off all at once. It stung, but it was a relief to get it off his chest. “I like it. I’m good at it, and I honestly don’t even feel anything when I cut a man’s head off--except sometimes joy.”

Daniel stopped setting up the Blue-Drakes for a moment and turned to face Darwin. His eyes wide and his mouth half agape. “You . . . like killing?”

“Yeah,” Darwin sighed. “It’s like, I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I can’t separate it from the fun I have in video games, from the thrill I used to get when playing a really tough game. Like I was made to kill, like every kill brings me closer to some understanding of myself.”

“Boss, I don’t know how to put this politely, but that’s kind of scary.” Daniel just stared at Darwin, who never stopped slaughtering the newly-spawned mobs..

“Yeah, for you and me both. I do the right thing. I always do the right thing, but am I doing it because I want to, that it’s what my gut is telling me what to do, or just because I know I should? It is scary.” Darwin didn’t know why he divulged so much. He was having a conversation less with Daniel and more with himself at this point. “It’s terrifying because it means that maybe, just maybe, one day those lines will get blurred, and I won’t know the difference.” He paused the mayhem for a moment and turned and faced Daniel. “One day, I might not just kill because it’s the right thing to do; I might just kill because it’s what my gut tells me to do.”

“Let’s hope that never happens.” Daniel awkwardly shifted about then jumped back into the battle.

Have I alienated one of my few friends? Darwin began to worry, but Daniel put his mind at ease.

“Let’s hope that I don’t reach that day before you.” Daniel pushed his daggers into another foe, switching so that Darwin could follow up. “Because I understand exactly what you mean.”

An eerie silence filled the air between the two as they finished farming the route that Kitchens had pulled. When they reached the end, there were no mobs left on either side. The Blue-Drakes along the route previously pulled by Kass and Minx had already been slain by ZombiDrakes, and the respawn time wasn’t fast enough for there to be any Blue-Drakes on the side they had just come from. All that was left was the uncomfortable, awkward quiet as they stood at the entrance. Fuzzy Wuzzy popped his head around the corner, but seeing that neither of them were speaking, he didn’t even bother to growl an acknowledgement before he walked back outside.

“So, earlier conversation notwithstanding, what now?” Daniel broke the silence.

“I suppose we wait for the bandits or Alex,” Darwin looked around. “I mean, we could go clean out another dungeon, but I don’t know where any are, and I would rather be here to greet the bandits if they get here before Alex arrives.”

“Good point. Well, in that case, I’m going to take a tip from the rest of our friends and log off,” Daniel said, waving goodbye as he signed out.

“Thank God he’s gone.” Stephanie crept out of one of the shadows. “I thought he would never leave.”

“Were you waiting a while?” Darwin wondered how long she had been listening.

“Long enough to know your dirty secret.”

“Not sure how much of a secret it is if I’m telling people.”

“The thing that makes it a secret is that you told someone, but not everyone. A secret untold is just a thought or memory.” Stephanie smiled.

Darwin noticed that Stephanie’s tone and dialect had changed. It was slightly more serious, slightly less teen and more adult. This was the Stephanie that showed for only a few moments when something important happened, when her guard was down. “What’s going on?” He thought he might as well take a stab in the dark with the question.

“Well, I’m just excited is all. I’m actually super happy!” Stephanie seemed to channel Minx for a moment as she clasped both her hands in front of her and her mouth shot open with joy. “You won’t believe the good news I have!”

“Good news?” Darwin was still too busy trying to figure out what she was talking about to be excited with her.

“Yeah! Great news! Amazing news! Fantastic news!” She grabbed one of each of Darwin’s hands, looked him in the face, smiling, and then said one more time, “Darwin! It’s the best of news!”

Darwin, starting to get swept up by her enthusiasm, did his best to moderate his emotion until he found out what was going on without coming off as rude. “Yes, you have said ‘news’ several times. What is this good news? Come on, I’m dying to find out.”

“Well, I found it!” Stephanie’s excitement was spilling over, but it was still hard to share it with her given he didn’t know what ‘it’ was. “I found it! It’s, like, totes awesome!”

“Stephanie! Suspense! Come on!” Darwin was having trouble controlling his own curiosity as he shook her hands even more than she was shaking his.

“A way home!” Stephanie surprised him by switching from holding his hands to holding him in an impromptu hug while Darwin, stiffened and pale like many of her stoney-eyed victims, tried to digest what she just said. “I found a way home!”

“A . . .” Darwin found himself frozen, unable to move. Half of it was because she was squeezing him so tightly that it would actually require a struggle for him to move, but the other half was just because, even after he understood what she said, it was just unbelievable.

“Yes, Darwin. A way home!” Stephanie released him from the hug and backed up, giving him and his lungs enough room to draw in air again. “We can go back to the real world! We can go back to the land of Internet and video games!”

“We?” Darwin didn’t know the exact scope of that word in this situation. Me, me and her, me and her and someone else?

“What? Were you planning on leaving me behind after I worked so hard to find us a way back?”

“You’re from the real world too?” Darwin tried to grasp what she meant.

“Of course I am! Do you think they sell Tetris and Game Boys down here?” Stephanie laughed at Darwin’s expense. “How did you not put that together?”

“Well, you said to be careful about Kass because she was a player . . .” Darwin searched for the right words to mount his defense; but, even after starting the discussion, he had the sinking feeling in his gut that let him know this was a lost cause. “I just thought that . . .”

“And here I thought I was dating you for your brains,” Stephanie reached up and patted Darwin on the head in the most patronizing way possible. “She is a player, but we aren’t. We’re real, and she’s just a loaded digital figment of this world’s imagination.”

“A world can have an imagination?” Darwin scratched his head.

“This one can, and it’s extra dirty,” she winked. “I mean, ‘cause it’s a world, you know, made of a lot of dirt.”

“Well, how do we go there?” Darwin asked and then immediately felt a pang of guilt. It was like he was already abandoning Alex and the rest at the first opportunity.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re not leaving your people behind,” Stephanie said as she put her hand on his shoulder, answering his concern before his words even had a voice. “We can bring anyone who wants to come with us. It won’t be a problem.”

“We can bring NPCs from this world into ours?” Darwin’s mouth started creeping further and further open as his brain slowly overloaded from the influx of information.

“Darwin, we’re going home!” she said again and then gave him an overly exaggerated smooch. “We’re going home!”

“Wait. Will we be together when we leave, or will it split us up to where we were when we first came here?”

“We’ll be together, but somewhere different entirely. It doesn’t matter though. In the real world we can get around without all the stupid walking and horses. Ugh! I think, after Tiqpa, I’ll have hiked enough for a lifetime,” Stephanie said with a frown.

“I just want to find my way home, kick off my shoes and crawl in bed.” Darwin started thinking about it.

“Wow, you’re awfully forward there.” Stephanie faked a blush, bit her lip, and lifted one leg. “You sure you don’t want to, you know, go on a proper date first?”

Darwin blinked again. “I meant sleep. Sleep--that’s all I’ve been wanting to do since I came here.”

“I know. Just thought I’d tease you for a laugh,” she said with a wink, “make you blush a bit.”

“Did I actually blush?” He felt his cheeks to see if they were warm.

“No, you totes didn’t. Phooey. But you should have! It’s too bad this wasn’t like one of them animes! Then you would have not only blushed, but your nose would have turned into a blood jetpack strapped to your face, and you’d be flying like a pig,” Stephanie grinned, then latched herself onto his right arm. She continued talking before Darwin could point out that pigs don’t actually fly. “Anyways, we’re going home, Darwin. We’re going to the real world! With pasta!”

“You mean ramen, right?” Darwin gasped excitedly. The food in the game world was good, but nothing beat the taste of freshly cooked ramen over some hot MMO grinding. “Oh man, what are you going to eat first? Pizza? Chicken Fingers? Ramen?”

“Ummm, how about we just go buy up like fifty desserts and then get a bunch of different red wines and sample every one,”

“You’re a genius!” Darwin’s mouth watered as he imagined different edible delights. “And let’s not forget about extra-glazed donuts with a ton of sugar. I know the greatest baker ever, a guy who works down the street from my place. He’s named Haikai or some other weird Asian name. Not sure how to pronounce his name right, but the guy makes the best donuts. Like, he must have studied the ancient Asian art of perfect donut sculpting from the great sages of La Patisserie Temple on Mount Pastry.”

“Ahh, that sounds so delicious, but if he’s really that good of a donut maker, we’ll probably get stuck behind an incredibly long line of cops,” Stephanie teased, fulfilling the cliché cop-to-donut connection required anytime donuts are mentioned.

“Well, I’d much rather deal with a line of cops than muggers or robbers,” Darwin said with good reason. He had already had one bad experience with a robber.

“Alright. But after getting some good, old-fashioned, over-glazed American donuts from an Asian guy, we should probably go get some Asian food from an American guy. Maybe Thai or Chinese?” Stephanie hugged tightly onto Darwin’s arm as the two talked about food.

“Yeah, and then we can go home and watch hours of boring Netflix stuff while eating popcorn.”

“Netflix and chill. Sounds good. Maybe we can even go out and actually see a movie!” Stephanie squeezed his arm again. “I haven’t ever been on a date to a movie theater!”

Movie theater dates? Wait. Don’t those cost like . . . Darwin facepalmed. “We’re forgetting something.”

“What’s that?”

“Money?”

“No, we aren’t forgetting it. Let’s just get a bunch of in-game gold before we leave.” Stephanie gave him the same ‘are you being dumb on purpose’ look that she had given him earlier when he didn’t realize she was from his world.

“Well, if that will work, we need to farm a lot. I want to go swimming in the coins like my last name was McDuck.” Darwin grinned an honest ear to ear smile. This was the best day he had managed to have since he first got to Tiqpa.

“Yep, it’ll be totes the best.” The two started to walk towards the entrance of the cave, Stephanie still holding tightly to Darwin’s arm.

“So when can we go?” he pressed. The anticipation of finally being able to go home was almost overwhelming for him. “Should we leave a note for Alex? ‘Be back later. Here’s how to come join us’?”

“Actually, about that . . .” Stephanie slowed their pace until they came to a dead stop. “See, it’s going to take me around a day or more to get the entrance set up. When I said, ‘I found the entrance,’ what I meant to say was that I had found the last component we needed to complete the portal.”

“Should I even ask?” he sighed.

“You’re welcome to, but it would take far longer than I have time to explain.” Stephanie reached into her own imaginary inventory and started pulling out scrolls. “The long and the short of it is that there is a platform under the boss chamber you were just in. It’s hard to spot at first, but, at the back, there is a set of stairs leading to it. Don’t let anyone go back there while I’m working.”

“That sounds easy enough,” he said, nodding.

“Oh, and one more thing: there is going to be an attack on us that will very likely happen before we go through the portal. Also, once I get the portal set up, we have to defend it. If the portal ever closes, I can’t promise that we’ll be able to set it up again should we end up back in this forsaken land somehow. So when that big grumpus Panda King comes with his army, you have to stop them at all costs, understand?” She waved her scrolls around in gestures Darwin didn’t exactly pick up on.

“I got it. Defend the wall, keep the portal open, pull the Gold out of my inventory before going through the portal so we will have all the proper credentials to buy fancy monocles.” Darwin did indeed understand it, but he had to sigh again. This would be another epic battle with his life on the line. Even though he didn’t want to admit it, he knew that the Panda King was currently stronger than he was. The only way he would have a real chance of defeating him was if he could get the large boss dragon as a mount so that he would have an overwhelming advantage, and that was going to be real hard now that all of his faction members had logged out. Even if he did manage to do it, however, the entrance to the cave might never allow it free, and he’d find himself short a lot of the valuable time he could have spent preparing other tactics. A strategy borrowed from the history books would be an option, but it was going to be tough to put together a perfect one when he wasn’t entirely sure of the enemy’s capabilities or how many faction members he would have before the attack happened. Was the Panda King going to attack him personally? Would it be another neko ninja assault? There just wasn’t enough information for Darwin’s liking.

“Great, and before I forget, I still have something supes imports to totes tell you, but it’s a secret, so. . .” Stephanie leaned up like she was about to whisper in his ear, but as soon as his face got close enough, she just kissed him on his cheek instead and turned to leave. “Dont let any of the other players find out about the portal, not even Kass. One of them walking through it could be disastrous. Anyways, have fun!”

He knew he was supposed to ask her something as she walked away, but his eyes were fixated on her departure, and it wasn’t until she was gone that his brain kicked back into full gear. Crap! That’s right! I was supposed to ask you if you knew anything about the Golden Goddess! He kicked himself mentally. Then he remembered what she looked like walking away.

“Lord Darwin, did we come at a bad time?” Justin Yoo approached Darwin from behind as Darwin stared off towards the boss’s lair, eyes still fixated on the disappearing image of Stephanie. It wasn’t just because she was beautiful. It was because there were still a hundred questions he needed to ask her, starting with the question about how she had found a way home.

“We?” Darwin had momentarily forgotten that he was expecting company. He turned around to see Justin wearing the new bathrobe uniforms with his arms at his sides standing by for instructions. “Oh, no, not at all. Perfect timing, actually. Did everyone make the journey okay?”

“Yes, Lord Darwin, everyone is ready and accounted for. I was sent by General Alex to make sure the area was secure before the logistics specialists and civilian population arrived,” Justin explained. The stiffness in his stature as he stood at attention made it almost awkward to look directly at him.

“You didn’t happen to run into any Humans along the way, did you?” Darwin remembered that he was supposed to have bandits show up as well.

“No, Lord Darwin. We ran into several groups of monsters, insects and the likes, but the offensive forces of our growing army were able to dispatch them quickly and easily, securing their resources without delaying the expedition.” Justin didn’t move as he answered the question. Even his head didn’t turn to follow Darwin as his leader moved. He just stared straight ahead in the same awkward, overdone, boot camp pose Darwin was used to seeing in a 1980s movie.

“Justin, can you please relax?” Darwin had a hunch that he should just treat the NPCs of StormGuard Alliance as roleplayers and give them orders to act how he wanted them to act.

“As you wish, Lord Darwin,” Justin said, but his posture didn’t change.

It’s not really ‘as you wish’ if you’re just going to stay stiffer than a morgue’s inventory lineup. Darwin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright, how long do we have until Alex and the other crews arrive?”

“They should be here within the next five minutes, Lord Darwin.”

“So, I don’t have much time to do anything with until they arrive?” Darwin frowned. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

“No, Lord Darwin. I apologize for not notifying you sooner, but Alex gave strict orders that you are never to be interrupted when you are speaking to Lady Stephanie,” Justin answered.

Darwin sighed. If Alex was about to be here, it meant he was about to have a ninja-like stealth assassin pop up and try to scare him into an early grave. It wasn’t just Alex, either. Almost all of the Turtle-Wolves seemed to be behaving more and more in the same stealthy fashion as if Alex’s sneaking abilities were less of a skill and more of a contagious condition. You’ve caught Sneaky Foot, suffer -2 to noise for five turns, Darwin mused.

“Lord Darwin, is there anything I can do before he gets here?” Justin offered, ever helpful.

“No, Yoo . . . Well, actually there is one thing.” Darwin thought for a minute. Stephanie said that a player couldn’t be notified of the portal, but that didn’t mean an NPC couldn’t be told to guard the entrance to it. Since he couldn’t stand watch over it himself, it might be a good idea to have someone trustworthy stand guard. “I need you to go to the back of this dungeon. There is a set of stairs at the back of the boss area. Don’t let anyone enter it. Not even General Alex or Lady Kass.”

“As you command, Lord Darwin.” Justin bowed then promptly disappeared.

The way they appear and then vanish, are they trying out to be billionaire vigilante crime fighters? Darwin laughed, remembering some of his favorite movies as a kid. He was about to go find Fuzzy Wuzzy, but as soon as the idea popped into his head, he noticed dozens of glowing red dots, then the bodies that they belonged to, appear in the horizon.

“Lord Darwin,” Alex called out to him, “I apologize for the delay. It could not be helped. We came as quickly as we could, but it was hard sneaking a certain multi-headed beast out of the city unnoticed.”

You managed to teach a gigantic Hydra your fade technique too? Darwin put his right hand against his temple. This is too much. How does a Hydra manage to get out of a city unnoticed? It could literally shade a building if it stood in the right spot, yet it escaped a denizen-heavy harbor without anyone seeing it? “Do I even want know how you pulled that off?” Darwin muttered audibly.

“I can’t answer that, Lord Darwin. It might be a boring explanation, or it could be an informative one,” Alex answered as if it were a serious question.

“No.” Darwin wasn’t sure if he should laugh or facepalm at that answer. “Nevermind that. We have more important business to discuss. Is there someone else qualified to take over and manage the initial base setup? There are time sensitive issues that I need to talk to you about.”

“Yes, Lord Darwin. Give me a moment.” Alex gave the slightest of bows and then walked over to a group of Turtle-Wolves loaded up with giant backpacks plus additional gear and began issuing out a series of orders. Darwin couldn’t make out what he was saying to them, but as soon as he finished, they all nodded and began moving. Each of them put down their stuff next to the door of the entrance of the cave then went out and started instructing the other Turtle-Wolves, who did likewise. After that, Alex returned to Darwin. “Thank you for your patience. Now, please tell me how I may be of service.”

“Well, actually, the thing is I have a very good reason to believe that we’ll be sieged sooner than we anticipated by the Animal Kingdom,” Darwin said, expecting to see a shocked expression, but only getting the same stone-faced look from Alex in response.

“Lord Darwin, since our conversion, every single one of us is capable and willing to fight to the death on the battlefield.” Alex’s chest puffed a bit as he boasted. “This shouldn’t be something to worry about. We will defend and defeat the enemy no matter when they arrive.”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure we will be fine, but I’d rather not have many men and women we fought so hard to keep alive butchered the first day they arrive. I’d rather not have any die at all, but realistically that’s not something you can expect out of a battle.” Darwin’s eye twitched as his forehead wrinkled. I need a plan. I need something more than just fighting off the enemy.

“To be honest with you,” Alex said as he looked at the horde of civilians and Turtle-Wolves filing into the dungeon, “it simply won’t go that smoothly. This is something you will have to come to terms with, Lord Darwin. We will fight, we will win, and we will bring glory to the great StormGuard Alliance, but if the foes are numerous, it will not be a picturesque scenario.”

“I know it’s unreasonable, and I should simply, as you put it, come to terms with this, but I need better than that . . . ” Darwin sighed. “But I just can’t.”

“Well,” Alex said as his eyes flickered around for a moment while he scratched his chin, “if we are able to get enough swords for every man, woman and child, and I can muster up around a hundred hours worth of form training time with each one, and then we can give each of them a few hours to hunt in different regions until they are confident with their blades, then, perhaps then, we could gain you that victory you are looking for.”

“No other ideas?” Darwin felt as if each attempt to get a positive response out of Alex about the outcome of a real battle was like scratching a lottery ticket at a gas station and hoping to win big. Alex was indeed a great quartermaster, and a good General, but he also wasn’t the type to lie and sugarcoat the truth for him.

“None, sir. Perhaps you, in your great wisdom, have a solution to offer?” Alex’s tone was polite, but it was just off enough that the way he said it made Darwin feel like he was actually trying to say ‘Why do you expect me to solve your problems for you?’

“I . . .” Darwin wracked his brain for an idea. Wait! That’s it! “Alex.” This time he straightened his back and spoke confidently. This time, he’d be the commander that his people needed, and not just some guy with two swords and a knack for grinding. “Alex, if we don’t have swords, what weapon do we actually have in abundance?”

“Spears, sir. Even after selling a good portion of our stock, due to the possibility of hostile conditions, we have enough spears to arm four times our current population, the risen included.”

The risen? That’s an interesting way to refer to the monsters I converted. “Good, and how many craftsmen do you have capable of making armor or working with wood?”

“Working with wood? Given proper instruction, roughly anyone over twelve years old could handle the wood. We’d have to allocate project managers to make sure the quality was uniform, but that shouldn’t be a problem. No more than one project manager for five to ten workers, and we can easily afford that.” Alex tilted his head to look at the trees that were now situated behind Darwin as the two talked. “As far as armor, I believe we have only ten or twenty people capable of manipulating metal with fire.”

“Good, good.” Darwin’s smile grew bigger as he put the numbers together in his head. This was exactly what he was hoping for. “Alright, I think we should be able to actually do this then.”

“Do what, sir?” Alex raised one eyebrow.

“Win, and win by a landslide.” He grinned, one lip pulling up higher than the other.

“What do you need me to do, Lord Darwin?” Alex returned his grin. He didn’t even know the plan, but his confidence in Darwin’s abilities was not to be shaken.

“First, I need you to take as many men as you can and split them into two groups. One group needs to clear out these woods. I don’t mean kill all the living creatures in them. I mean chop down every tree and haul it up here. We’re going to need all the wood we can get. The second group needs to go into the dungeon and start harvesting the dead Blue-Drakes. Strip them of their scales and their bones, and make it a priority to get those both gathered up before bothering with the meat. There will be plenty of respawns for meat, but those scales and bones are a must,” Darwin said as he began to unfold his plan piece by piece to Alex.

He knew the basics of it. There had been great empires that rose and fell by the edge of a spear. He remembered hours and days of playing games where he had been forced to command armies and forces into battle that had devastated their enemies with a spear. If this was going to be a war, he needed it to be a total war. Not to mention, years of playing real time strategy games as a zerg-style commander against terrain had given him intimate familiarity with what made and broke a base’s defense.

A lot of people made the mistake of thinking that a good defensive position was one that sealed off all possible attacks. This was a misconception. For a fort to be able to stop an enemy no matter which side it attacks on, it must be stronger than the enemy on all of those sides. Sure, with preparation and time you could easily reinforce the position’s defenses on all sides, but there was a reason most people believed the best defense was a good offense. It just simply wasn’t cost effective to play the ‘Defend All Sides’ card. Instead, Darwin had learned early on that his greatest fear when trying to decimate an enemy’s ranks was not the commander who was prepared for anything, it was the foe that either knew what point he would strike at or lured him into striking a certain point. That type of opponent, the type that could control the battlefield, would always stop him. That’s the type of leader Darwin needed to be, the one who could force the Panda King to fight on his terms at his location and at his pace, and he had just the experience and role models to help him do it.

There was only one problem left: the Panda King likely didn’t get that position from being an amateur. If Darwin were going to win, he would have to use tricks from a world that the Panda King had never been to.

“ Also, we’re going to need a few people to scout ahead, let us know when and where the enemy is going to be coming from,” Darwin said, looking at the soon-to-be-demolished tree line. He knew where they would attack, and he knew he didn’t have much time or men to spare, but he also didn’t want their siege to have the advantage of being a surprise. One thing his Demon people had going for them was that they never got tired or had to sleep, an advantage he would absolutely need if he were to sustain a siege as large as the one he feared would come. Now, all that was left was to farm ZombiDrakes and pray that he could muster a large enough army in time to stop any force from taking the mountain. Too many pieces on the board, he grumbled as he pulled out his blades. Too many pieces on the board moving too quickly.

Chapter 9:  Phallic Force

Qasin:

“So we can’t kill the panda because we need his help. We can’t wait with him because he doesn’t trust us. We can’t go off and just talk to your brother because he has a ‘soul-stealing’ woman with him. You have explained this all thoroughly, but there is a missing piece you still haven’t told me about.” Qasin looked around annoyedly at the cityscape strung out around him. It wasn’t just the stares, the snide remarks under the breath of the passerbies that were still audible enough for Qasin to hear, or even the pungent smell of a hundred animal people desperately needing a dunk in the river that bothered him most about the area now. He had gotten used to all that.

In fact, their resentment almost made him smile. Thoughts of how he would repay their ‘kindness’ wormed their way through his mind and pulled his lips into a grin. Slice, dice, chop and grind, he thought to himself as the images floated through his head. It was taking a great deal of self-discipline to prevent the grim fantasies in his mind from actually being carried out. He needed to bide his time until Eve was done with the animals here, until they had served their purpose. Once her goal was accomplished, she would have no problem if he dealt justice to these beasts who dared to look down on Humanity with such hateful eyes. I will restore order for mankind in this barbaric land, he told himself, grinning as he glared back at the leering menagerie in the streets.

“If you understand all of that, then what is there left to say?” Eve kept walking through the marketplace, head held high as if nothing were wrong.

How is she comfortable here? How is it that these people don’t irritate her too? “Perhaps the thing that I want to know even after understanding all of that is, why are we still standing in this forsaken den of dogs? The Panda King, to whom you went for help, isn’t interested in us right now, so why do we have to wait around in this city?”

“Because, dear Qasin, they will want us. In fact, as soon as their scouts arrive, they’ll be back, and we need to look confident in our prediction.” Eve continued to strut around, pausing only occasionally to look at items on display around them.

“If they don’t, if we’re stuck waiting for nothing, I’m personally going to go and try to reason with that brother of yours,” Qasin said.

“Qasin, why do you think my brother is worthy of being reasoned with instead of killed when you are already holding your blade and eyeing these citizens like prey?” Eve turned around to look at him. “Why is it that you insist on talking to him, helping him understand, but these people aren’t worth even a moment of your time?”

“The same could be said for you. You constantly nag me to talk instead of kill, yet you force me to talk to the people I want to kill so that you don’t have to converse with the people you want to murder,” Qasin grumbled.

“I don’t want to kill my brother, I just--” Eve protested, but was interrupted by a messenger from the Panda King before her excuse could be voiced. It didn’t matter though. Qasin was sure he had heard it along with every other excuse she had dozens of times before.

“Ma’am, sir, your attention is required in the royal courtyard,” a giant Ursine warrior said as he appeared behind the two. “The King wishes to speak to you.”

“Tell them we’ll be there when we finish up here.” Eve tried to wave off the guard, much to the ire of Qasin, who wanted to conclude the business as quickly as possible, but the guard was persistent.

“Ma’am, the King expressed his desire to see you immediately. We should proceed to the royal courtyard without delay,” he pressed again.

“As I said before, I’ll be there when I finish here,” Eve said, looking at Qasin with a smile. He couldn’t be sure, but he was almost positive that the smile said, ‘See, we were right where we needed to be when we needed to be there. You were upset for nothing.’

“My Lady,” the voice grew deeper and more hoarse, “I believe your business here is concluded,” he said as forcefully as an Ursine might. As he spoke, several dozen Ursine and Panthera warriors began appearing on all sides of Qasin and Eve. Each of them was fully armored, and they were all grouped in a circle surrounding the pair.

“I see, so it’s that type of invitation. Does your King still not trust me? Sending so many people to rush me away . . . Well, I suppose if I must. Let’s go, dear,” she said, turning to Qasin. “We shouldn’t keep our host waiting.” Eve sauntered past the original guard in the direction of the royal courtyard, the entire group of additional guards still surrounding them as they walked.

“So was this all part of your plan too?” Qasin mumbled in a voice that would be audible only to Eve. He didn’t like the idea of guards listening in on his conversations, a distaste he had developed and fostered when he was constantly forced to guard against the Human Council back in his days of only being a puppet monarch.

“I don’t wish to delay this meeting any more than he does. We need him still, Qasin. Remember that. Yet, we can’t let it seem like we’re happy about being called back,”

“Why not?” he asked, the foul taste from his earlier experiences at court welling up in his mouth. “Why can’t we just state our intentions and be done with this game?” His disgust was growing with each passing moment. Not just with the animals, but with Eve as well. He was beginning to wonder how much of what she said and did was really just part of her games, part of her attempt to move him like a pawn.

Here I thought that I was free of your kind, he thought as he stared at her, his contempt for the people around him slowly finding a new home. Perhaps even now, all I need to do is kill. Will you leave me and play your games elsewhere if I just start murdering your other puppets? It worked once, it worked twice, and it hasn’t failed me yet. If a problem exists, I just need to kill. As his two feet carried him blindly to his destination, these old thoughts flooded Qasin’s head with memories of Wilhelm bleeding out against a wall. He was following Eve for now, but his mind was quickly looking for reasons not to, reasons why he should trust his gut and butcher the people who threatened his kind.

“You were right,” the Panda King said, interrupting Qasin’s thoughts. He had been so concentrated on his anger that he hadn’t noticed the time fly by, and they had already reached the King’s residence. They were standing in front of a courtyard that was at least the size of a small town. Empty, flat and stone, the square arena was filled with hundreds of troops of all races and breeds scattered about in an odd, disorganized fashion. Some of them were sparring within rings composed of the other soldiers gathered around them. There were even soldiers who were clearly gambling in front of or with their superiors.

This rabble . . . This is the rabble that subjugated and beat the Humans of this land? He cursed in his mind in disbelief. From what he had heard and seen in the towns they had passed through, the Humans on his island had never known any semblance of true organization. They had only ever charged at their enemies, facing off in a flurry of mismatched weapons from swords and shields to axes and mauls, yet even they were more unified than this group of louts.

“Word arrived from the scouts hours ago,” The Panda King continued watching his soldiers from where he stood in front of his over-cushioned throne, not even bothering to turn to face them as he spoke. They were now waiting on a three-story-high platform erected against the east wall. Qasin and Eve, who had just arrived, had already managed to draw the attention of fifty to sixty of the closest soldiers.

“And?” Eve pressed, but anyone who saw what was going on would know that the troops wouldn’t be assembled if it wasn’t exactly as Eve had spelled out earlier--if there wasn’t a clear and present threat.

“You hadn’t returned, so I sent for you.” The Panda was terse as he spoke to the two, still not even bothering to look in their direction.

“My good King, forgive my impertinence. I meant to ask you, what was the word?” she politely spoke in a weak, submissive tone that belied her confident exterior. Her voice sounded as if she were a waitress who had spilled a customer’s drink, yet her face was one of a hawk who had just spotted a mouse. “Was it as we feared?”

“It was worse. We expected him to have one or two of the outlying Human factions on his side. We expected him to settle in one of the run down mines with good agricultural reach. Those things would have been well within both our grasp and expectation; but, it is as you said--only worse. Every single Human we know of in the lands has begun to migrate towards the new base at Mt. Lawlheima?. None of our scouts have been able to approach that place. Each one that we send gets killed, burned or eaten by a band of red-eyed drakes. We’ve only had one scout survive to tell the tale of the fiery beasts that descended on his group of six and slaughtered them before they even got halfway to the target destination.” The King’s tone scraped across Qasin’s ear like nails dragging across a steel plate even though the bass in his voice was deep and loud enough to make water ripple.

“Were you able to prevent any of the Humans from reaching Mt. Lawlheima , or did they all make it successfully?” Eve continued to force details out of the beastly ruler.

“We couldn’t stop a single one. Our scouts were able to follow the trails while they were all still fresh, that is how we were able to discover their position Lawlheima. When one group failed to report in, however, we were forced to send another to search for them. They found their corpses sprawled out and riddled with arrows. The scouts believe that Darwin sent troops to make sure there wasn’t an issue,” the King continued, almost every word causing an involuntary twitch in Qasin’s eye.

Qasin stood dazed as he listened to the two. In the formative years of his youth, he had always dreamed of dragons. Each day he had wondered what it would be like to ride one of them, how magnificent it would be to soar through the skies on the greatest beast in the land, yet the mention of them being domesticated went entirely unnoticed. Despite all the excitement of hearing about Blue-Drakes being tamed and domesticated, his mind could only focus on one pair of words: Human factions. This man had come to the land but a few days past, and he had already united every Human in the vicinity. He had pulled them together, built them a home and sent people to defend them on their journey to it. All the while this flea-ridden furball had hoped and wished for his men to kill them.

What horrible truth about his plans has Eve hidden from me that would make me want to stand here and not with my own people? Qasin’s mind raced as he tried to find justifications for the fact that he was currently siding with the enemy of his once great champion.

“Well, it may be too late for this to be a clean and simple battle.” Eve looked over at the troops. “But, if we don’t try, it will be too late for you to ever win anyway.”

“You were right before about his plotting and scheming. How certain are you that I don’t have more time, that I can’t prepare more troops and study the enemy? We could summon more troops from the surrounding areas and march against him with the full might of the Kingdom.” The Panda King rolled his paws back and forth across the railing as he looked with a somber frown at the men below. “If this goes wrong, if we lose too much, and then the Kingdom might still be lost. The other towns and races are only kept in check by our might and our commanding visage. Both must stay strong.”

“Did your men not get butchered by a handful his drakes? If he gains the control of hundreds, will all the forces of every Kingdom in all the known lands be enough to stand against him?” Eve chiseled away at the Panda King’s stubbornness.

“Even the number he has now is worrisome,” the Panda King conceded, taking a deep breath. He was clearly used to always being right, to having the last word, and it showed in his hesitance. Qasin had met his kind in the chambers of his old keep over and over again. They knew more than any man should, and they only struck once they were able to account for every thorn on the stem of the flower. It was a terrifying type of man to fight against if he could find a way around your weapon, but not one to ever initiate action without having something to gain and a clear path to victory. It wasn’t the kind of man to ever stand up and fight for the people.

To stand up and fight for the people, he repeated the idea in his mind. To stand up for the people . . . That’s what I have always done. This . . . What people . . . Whose people am I standing up for now? He looked to Eve for answers, but she was still busy playing her game, working her words and jabbering away with the Panda King. They were talking about troops, and she was telling truths in such a simple, precise way that Qasin almost felt like they were worse than lies. She was leaving out her own motivations, neglecting to mention her own personal reasons for turning to the King. She told the ruler that Darwin had to be stopped, but made it seem as if it was only in the interest of the Panda King, that she had nothing to gain from his defeat. Each word dragged out as if it were certain her brother would seek to destroy the Panda King. After having walked the streets of this town, Qasin wasn't even entirely sure that he was bothered by the idea. This is why killing has always been the answer. The blade doesn’t lie; it tells only one truth.

“You will not win,” Qasin said, his tongue acting with his temper before his patience could stop him from blurting it out. “Your army is weak, undisciplined, and lacking in cohesion. You could wait for all of the men from all of your subjects to be called to serve you, but he will break you like so many waves against the shore before you can wear down the rock of his force.”

The Panda King and Eve, who had been talking at some length while Qasin had stewed in his rage, stared at him. “Please, do tell me why you would make such a preposterous claim. Since the unification of Ursine and Panthera forces, our armies have never been broken--even when outnumbered.”

“And I am certain that was the same confidence the White-Wings shared before facing off against him. An army that would have wrecked the combined forces of the Human, White-Horn and Black-Wing lands was dealt with as if it were mere play-thing by that champion. He waded into the battle with less than a hundred troops and crushed the army without even a single lost man. If one of his men was killed, certainly no one saw it, and no body was ever found,” Qasin said confidently, remembering how Darwin had saved them from the White-Wing invasion on that day.

He saved my people. The thought ran through his head. Before the Panda King could even respond or Eve could shoot daggers at him with her glare, Qasin felt a small smile grow across his face as he remembered how Eve’s brother had helped avert a disaster of epic proportions. During the fray, he had led a force of Demons for the sake of the Humans and the White-Horns and the Black-Wings that he had never met. Yet, despite that fact, Eve stood here now insisting the Demon that saved their lands was an enemy. What foe protects you from certain death or destruction?

“Perhaps it is just that the leader of those forces did not listen to his advisors. A wise King builds an army with the aide of his people’s representatives. I had heard that the King of the Human Kingdom was the type of bad King who never once listened to the words of the Human Council, that he didn’t understand the importance of good advice from sagely men who obviously knew better. Perhaps he also had the same approach with the military.” The Panda King’s voice was calm and gentle, but his face was almost snarling as he addressed Qasin. “Perhaps his inability to understand the complexities of men and follow the advice of those who could is why even his closest advisors sought his death.”

Qasin, staring the panda in his black eyes, felt that familiar bile begin to rise. As he broke his gaze to glance at Eve, he couldn’t help but get even angrier. This blowhard monarch is the one you are pitting against the greatest champion the Human Race has ever had? He questioned her again in his mind, his subconscious telling him that everything about this scenario was wrong. Why did I even follow you out here in the first place? he started to seriously question for the first time since the journey began. There had been something about her, a magic sort of charm that had pulled and tugged at him like a leash, an allure bolstered by the fact that every word she said had sounded right. That leash, however, was now losing its strength with each passing moment.

“You can go to war . . .” Qasin almost stopped himself from arguing. Each passing thought told him, Let him think he is right. Our champion will destroy him, and the Humans in this Kingdom will be free from the tyranny of these oppressive beasts. The only thing that made him attempt to dissuade the Panda King, clearly against Eve’s desires, was that he didn’t want even one more innocent person to die. “You can try to fight him, but if you wish to talk about listening to counsel, consider listening to mine as well. I can’t stop you, but just as she has wrapped Darwin around her finger, she will use your own desires against you,” he said, pointing to Eve, whose pale complexion was starting to turn red in anger. He hated having to keep a civil tone. It was like dragging a blade across his own skin just trying to be polite and helpful to someone who would sooner kill every member of his species than give them the time of day.

“He isn’t wrong,” Eve started off by agreeing with him. “He did decimate a force of thousands with barely a hundred men, but one of them was so powerful she could have done it by herself. That one will most likely be absent from this fight if we move today, but she will be certain to return if we wait too long.”

“Very well. I’ve listened to both of you for counsel,” he growled at Qasin, almost ignoring Eve now. “But, as you said, I can go to war, and I will. We move as soon as every soldier in the town is ready. There is no point in delaying the inevitable. They are but a few hours’ march, and, at the end of those hours, we shall teach. We shall educate the filthy, hairless ape imposters that no King, especially not I, the greatest of great Animal Kings, should ever fear the wrath of a handful of men, who are even less than monkeys.”

Qasin smiled to himself despite the insults. He should have been mad. He had been completely ignored, insulted, and he knew that good people would probably die today--but he couldn’t stop the rush. There was a feeling of joy because he knew a battle was coming, a battle where his champion would crush this Panda King no matter how great he thought his army was. No, you shall learn that a handful of Humans, even if they are now turned into Demons, will not be subjugated by uncivilized fiends like you. He laughed to himself as he thought about the slaughter to come. When a problem rears its head, Darwin will slay it. That’s how great men solve their problems. They eradicate them.

Darwin:

Darwin took a break from farming the Blue-Drakes and went outside to check on the preparations. The Blue-Drakes were of dire importance. They were the only source of renewable troops that would truly make a difference. Since they couldn’t realistically increase the numbers of the other troops, they had only the number of drakes and the strength of the fortifications to improve.

The mountain was very much just a flat wall at their backs, and Darwin was half tempted to simply take several regiments of archers and camp them inside, firing arrows at anyone who tried to walk through the dungeon’s entrance. The only problem was, it would leave them trapped. He wasn’t entirely familiar with the enemy’s technology, but he knew that if they could erect massive castles, they also likely knew how to destroy them; and this mountain wall was nothing more than a castle. A castle that, if destroyed, would kill everyone inside.

“Lord Darwin,” one of the workers on the pike-wall said with a bow as he noticed Darwin approaching. “The right one is done, but we need more time for the left.”

“If it were up to me, you’d have all the time in the world.” Darwin gave a small chuckle. “So how long do you think it’ll take to finish the spike-wall properly? Don’t tell me you’re going to let the actual walls finish before you get those ten-foot spikes in the ground.”

“They have a lot more workers on their team, Lord Darwin. They are able to move at a faster pace for that reason alone.” The red-eyed Demon moved his eyes across Darwin’s face a few times and then smiled. “But we would never let ourselves be beaten in front of the eyes of the Great Lord Darwin.”

“That’s the spirit.” Darwin gave the worker a pat on the back that was hard enough to jostle him forward an inch. “After all, we’re the StormGuard Alliance, the best there is, right?”

“The very best, Lord Darwin!” The worker beamed with pride.

As he was inspecting the spike-wall and the wooden defense behind it, he started to take note of how perfect the craftwork was. He didn’t know if it was a byproduct of the fact they were in a video game or if it was because they all had rigorous training in woodworking before they arrived. Either way, the end result in terms of both method and finished product was that the entire process from start to finish looked like it was computer generated even though it was clearly being made by people right in front of him.

Darwin was still admiring the craftsmanship of the pike-wall when Alex approached him. “Lord Darwin, several groups of Humans are approaching from all directions. Do we send the Blue-Drake riders out to greet them?”

“No, we invited them here.” Darwin’s mood improved significantly upon hearing the news. His army was going to be even bigger than anticipated. The fact that they were approaching from all directions meant that it wasn’t just one of the groups he or Daniel had visited earlier, but several others as well. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be ‘from all directions’ so much as from just two very specific directions.

“Very well. I’ll let everyone know to let them pass safely. We still have a standing kill order on any of the Animal Kingdom that come into the woods, correct?”

“Yes, maintain the kill order.” Darwin looked back at the wall. This was going to be beautiful.

“As you command, Lord Darwin,” Alex said, turning to depart before pausing momentarily and adding, “Oh, and that liquid you wanted us to drain from the sacks you found inside the Blue-Drakes, we have it gathered and are ready to start spreading it across the battlefield in the locations you suggested.”

“Excellent! While you’re there though, how are the other preparations coming along?”

“Well, the special troop you have training right now, they’re starting to fall into formation, but we’d like more time if possible. They have the basic idea of what to do, but it’s still an entirely new style of fighting. They’re not yet comfortable with it,” Alex said as the two looked over what would soon be the front line of his new army. “Even the Turtle-Wolves, who have likely spent their entire lives fighting with spears, found it odd to use it in such a basic fashion.”

“What do you mean?” Darwin asked, trying to understand the root of the problem.

“Well, when we think of battle normally, it’s an endless series of small skirmishes across a long, drawn-out position. The person on the front line is almost guaranteed to die as a result; but, as long as he holds his spot, he’s only fighting the man directly in front of him. If he dies, then someone else takes his spot and that man is only fighting the man in front of him. Sure, there is a lot of pressure as the men behind him continue to press forward, and the frontline bleeds into the enemy ranks creating an awkward area where it’s hard to tell who is friend or foe, but, for the most part, everyone is fighting just one person, and that is something that they can manage to do.”

“And?” Darwin failed to see the issue yet. He had a hunch about what it was, but he wanted to know clearly what was at the heart of Alex’s reticence with the new combat approach.

“Lord Darwin, you’re taking away the men’s freedom to fight man to man with honor. You’re forcing them to fight a guy they can’t see two or three people behind the man in front, not the target right before their eyes,” Alex finally put it bluntly. “The soldiers will no longer be fighting so much as repeating the same action over and over again. Not to mention, no one has gotten used to either the shield or the spears you designed. I don’t understand why they have to be so long or large. The troops won’t be able to maneuver them easily with their size and weight.”

Darwin smiled. “That’s because this war won’t be won one-on-one. If our troops engage just the enemy that is in front of them, how many more will take their place? If they lust for blood and rampage, what will happen with the front lines? Even if they get a few kills, which they very well might if they were trained by you, the line will still be compromised eventually. Gaps and weak points will inevitably form given enough time. There are too many factors that can’t be controlled if the soldiers all have the freedom to act however they want. They need to learn--they must learn--to rely on their brothers and sisters in arms, a trust that has kept me alive a lot recently.”

“And the extra large shields and long spears will do that?” Alex continued his hunt for answers. When Darwin had first laid out the plan, and showed him the designs for how he would need a shield to be constructed, Alex and the others listening had been more than a little confused. They had been befuddled and bewildered. They were used to the idea of a long spear being taller than a man, but not almost taller than two men. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Darwin needed--spears long enough to reach over several men and continuously stab at and push off the enemy. That’s why the dory, a kind of spear used by Greek hoplites, had been so long.

The second detail that had shocked those currently training with the new weapon was that the spears felt frail and flimsy, especially when compared to the ones they had held and wielded their whole life. The people of this area were used to thick and heavy spears capable of blocking or withstanding hits from the sides, spears that were built to be two handed. The dory, however, was designed specifically be much lighter, only weighing between two to five pounds each. The major differences that made such a feat possible were the type of wood and the fact that the shaft’s diameter was barely two inches wide. The differences left the soldiers feeling uncomfortable and insecure as they held a weapon they had trouble trusting to withstand even the first series of blows from the enemy.

“Yes, they will.” Darwin answered Alex’s question, looking over in the distance at the group's training. They were lined up in phalanx formation, five men deep and twenty men wide, practicing charging at each other with safety-tipped spears over and over again as they worked out how to get the dory spears to fall so that they hit their enemies square on. “The more they practice, the more they will understand exactly how important they are to each other. They will understand how important their comrade’s shield is and how little they are without it.” He nodded as he saw how much they had already improved. They were slowly starting to get it. The important part of the formation was the shield that protected everything from just above their ankles to over their heads. It was just like his reliance on Minx. It was like his need to have Kass and Kitchens at his back. They were his shields in the previous battle in the dungeon, and if the StormGuard Alliance was going to make it through the upcoming fight, each member would need to rely on more than just himself. They would all need to rely on the shields of their comrades.

“Very well, Lord Darwin. I shall trust you on these matters.” Alex nodded as well, both of them watching the training. “Though I still think you’re a bit crazy.”

Darwin let a big grin break out across his face. “See, even you are learning to trust me thanks to that spear and shield.” He started to laugh. Alex joined in on the chuckle after a moment.

“Lord Darwin, my apologies.” Alex bowed his head ever so slightly. “With the coming siege, I am sure you are very pressed for time, and I am sure I have taken up a great deal of it up by dawdling around here unproductively. Please excuse me,” he finished, and just like that he was gone.

Here I am bringing the technology of my world into his, and he hasn’t even bothered trying to teach me the most fundamental tricks. Am I just supposed to pretend like I’m the commissioner in a masked crusader movie?

“The disappearing thing, it’s crazy, isn’t it?” Kitchens said, walking up behind him. Unlike Alex’s, Darwin could hear the footsteps coming from a distance, a thing that somehow comforted him more and more as days passed.

“Yeah, it really is,” Darwin said, admiring the ability. Even if he were upset, Alex hadn’t offered to teach him the trick yet. “I wish I could do it,” he just blurted out what was on his mind. It was a thing he found himself doing more and more as time passed, being honest and straightforward with his friends.

“Disappear or be invisible?” Kitchens walked up to the spot where Alex had formerly stood.

“Both? I don’t know.” Darwin shrugged. He couldn’t really think of too many practical applications for either of the abilities as he searched through his mind.

“Disappearing can be tricky. Being invisible, not so much. We all are, all the time, to almost everyone.” Kitchens looked around then pointed to a random woman that was helping set up the pike-wall. “For instance, do you see that woman?”

“Yes?” Darwin said, looking at her, she looked like almost every other person in the camp. They all looked almost identical--the same black hair, the same red eyes, the same outfits--but her face was slightly different than the others. She had a mark on her left cheek like she had been cut just enough to leave a scar.

“Good. Now, close your eyes,” Kitchens instructed.

“Okay,” Darwin did as he was told.

“Can you tell me the gender of the two people next to her? Was there anyone in front of her?” He asked.

Darwin, searching his memory for a moment, found that all of those details were missing. He had been so focused on the girl with the scar that he hadn’t noticed anyone around her. He couldn’t even remember if there had even been other people there or not

“You see, we’re all invisible to almost everyone at any given time. It takes more effort to be noticed than it does to be unnoticed,” he said, wrapping up his short and impromptu lesson.

It wasn’t exactly the stealthy trick that Alex was using, but it was definitely useful to think about. “It hasn’t been that long. I thought you would be asleep still,” Darwin said when he remembered that it had barely been six or seven hours since Kitchens had logged off.

“A glass of water before bed serves as a great alarm clock when you start to get older,” Kitchens sighed and smiled at the same time. “Well, that is only the reason for why I am out of bed. The reason I’m up is a very highly caffeinated cup of tea and a nice coffee blend.”

“How old are you again?” Darwin poked fun at him, remembering full and well the rough age of both the old man and his daughter.

“Enough to know a whipper snapper shouldn’t worry about what year a bag of dust expired.” Kitchens’ grin spread wider. “That said, did you even sleep? It’s like you’ve been up all night working on the base.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I never slept?”

“Maybe. Depends what type of demons you have crawling around in your head.” Kitchens’ smile flattened out and disappeared. “You don’t grow old without locking a few upstairs.”

“Or just ending up as one.” this time Darwin chuckled alone as Kitchens just looked at him funny.

“So what’s going on here? I expected town building, but it seems you skipped everything and went straight for defense,” Kitchens said, noting the surroundings.

“Kind of had to. ‘Bout to be attacked and all,” Darwin offered with a shrug.

“Do we have a rough idea of when?”

“No, nor do we even have a rough idea how many people are actually going to come at us.”

“I see. We don’t know when or how many people are going to attack us, but we do know we’ll be attacked. That’s good. It basically makes us like every country in every region of the world during the middle ages,” Kitchens laughed. “Well, if we’re going to play a simulation game, at least we picked one that hits the mark. After all, what fledgling nation isn’t birthed in blood?”

Darwin tried to think of one for a minute, but, after coming up short-handed, just admitted defeat. “I can’t think of one.”

“Well, you’re in luck. There is still a chance we won’t be attacked. After all, it’s not written in stone that we are going to be sieged within the first twenty-four hours of being established, is it? There is still the possibility that the attacking forces will be beleaguered and show up unexpectedly late. If you push too hard you may lose your momentum.”

“Hmm.” Darwin didn’t know how to explain that he was a seasoned grinder. Getting burnt out just didn’t happen. He spent years pressing the same five keys in rotation as if he were a well-written code himself. “What happened to Miyamoto Musashi’s resolute acceptance of death speech?”

“Even I abandoned that thought when I had a daughter. A man will find that every year he spends on earth he inevitably sends down roots that make it harder for him to think of moving on, and some roots make it almost impossible,” Kitchens spoke slowly as if he were trying to imitate a fortune cookie.

“Like Minx?” Darwin asked, guessing at the root.

“Or video games. Definitely video games and bad television. Every year I think: ‘Welp, curse you, cliffhangers. Now I can’t be reckless for another year or else I might wind up tossing and turning in the grave, never knowing who really killed Kenny,” he chuckled.

“Hmm. I can definitely feel your pain. Even now I am plagued with uncertainty. Will Sherlock ever find out that Watson is the one secretly killing everyone and framing other people?”

“Would that be counted as Watson betraying Sherlock, or helping him?”

“Tough call. Either way, mind helping out around here? I need to get back to the work,” Darwin said, the topic about having too little time hitting too close to home.

“No problem. Mind running me through the basics of the plan?”

“Actually, it’s a really simple idea. I’m creating two walls on each side of the mountain to direct the incoming attackers into the central gap. To prevent them from just climbing up the walls and hitting us from any angle, we’re building a pike-wall in front of it.” He pointed to the ten- to twelve-foot tall wooden walls with pikes laid out at an angle to properly keep them from being scaled.

“I see you’ve done away with the idea of a gate though?” Kitchens noted the fact that where the walls should have turned inward to form a recession in which a gate would normally stand, they instead extended all the way back until they nearly touched the mountain, leaving a narrowing gap between the walls--and the gap wasn’t small either. The walls turned in toward the mountains at roughly 135 degree angles rather than 90, creating a funnel shape, although the walls eventually curved enough that they started running parallel as they got close to the dungeon’s entrance.

“Yeah, if we already know we’re going to be attacked, why not make sure we’ll know where they’ll focus their assault too? Even if they know it’s a trap and lay siege to one of the walls, we’ll be able to adjust and flank them through the central opening before they get past the wall. This way, we can likely lure them into one spot and still have the flexibility to hit them if they strike elsewhere.”

“If you plan to straighten out the corner and run a phalanx,” Kitchens said as he pointed at the training soldiers, “then why do you have a funnel at the front of your defense wall’s opening, with the wall being wider at the outside and narrowing as it approaches where you’re putting the phalanxes?”

“Ah, that’s just an idea I picked up from some real-time strategy games. The idea is to force the enemy to pressure himself instead of just us. As their force continuously tries to narrow and avoid the pikes on the side, they’ll end up squishing themselves and breaking their own order a bit, sometimes even forcing loose men into the pikes to die.” Darwin pause for a moment. “I’m actually taking quite a few gambles. For instance, I need the enemy to be disorganized. I’m betting they won’t match our front lines in numbers or go straight for the walls with any heavy siege equipment,” Darwin noted, drawing a nod from Kitchens. “But I’m not worried. I remember how disorganized Tiqpa’s NPC armies were on the beaches during the White-Wing battle.”

“They are all very feudal, and feudal societies tend to draw from untrained peasants just as much as they do real, trained soldiers. I wouldn’t be surprised if this Kingdom is no different.” Kitchens continued nodding as Darwin spoke, this time stroking his chin. Darwin knew that he was only nodding in agreement, but for some reason he couldn’t help but think of a bobble head sitting on a car dash when he looked over and saw Kitchens nodding his head with such a stiff body.

“That is what I’m hoping for. Although, I wouldn’t mind if they were also severely undertrained, never leveled, and had a commander who couldn’t figure out which direction was up,” Darwin added. “You know, while we are having wishful thoughts.”

“If you’re going to gamble, go big, right?”

“How about after we finish this up, the two of us find a casino, go to a roulette table, and bet it all on red?”

“Would our chances of winning be larger or smaller?” Kitchens actually chuckled. “Maybe afterwards, we can ask a waitress out and see if the number she gives is real or not.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but I thought Minx was your daughter? Aren’t you married?” Darwin asked before realizing the nature of his question.

Kitchens went quiet. He didn’t even move for a moment, then just pretended Darwin had never even asked the question. “Well, your plan seems good enough. I’m going to go wake up Minx and tell her to log on. She’d kill me if she missed this. I figure the two of us can help out with wall reinforcements. Where are you going to want us when the battle starts??”

“Would it be shameful to say that I actually don’t know?”

“How about we take our Blue-Drakes and a squad of fighters and flank the enemy’s sides from above when the fight starts? It’ll let us keep working right until the last minute, and give us the mobility to quickly jump into the battle afterwards,” Kitchens suggested.

It made sense too. The soldiers in the phalanx would each be essentially no better or worse than any other. It wouldn’t be representative of their actual combat abilities. The entire formation was designed to rely on cohesion and coordination as part of a group effort. If the phalanx worked correctly, even the least trained fighter could be highly effective. If they were to use the dragons to cut into the enemy ranks, they could do a great deal of damage without having to sacrifice or modify the existing battle strategy or forcing the phalanx to break rank.

“That might be a good use for all of our best fighters. We have plenty of Blue-Drakes to get them into the battle with, and the drake’s flame breath could be used to protect their flanks if we do it right,” Darwin started thinking aloud.

“Always going with fire, are we? I noticed your men were collecting oil from the dead dragons and storing it in jars. Were you originally planning on forcing the enemy to fight even if he tried to escape? Throwing them into a panic with a surprise rear line or scattering them across the field for extra damage and shock effect when the fireballs rain down?”

“Something like that. I was going to pour it across the field and hope to split up the armies mid-fight,” Darwin said, drawing out the strategy on the ground with one of his Burriza’s. “Or, if they were a smaller group, it’d seal them in and let us finish them off before they could retreat and regroup with reinforcements.”

“So, basically, you wanted to use the fire to hedge your bets? As a safety mechanism?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Darwin said, “Got a better idea?”

“Well, water generally likes to have a cup. A force with no form will likely spill everywhere, losing both shape and efficiency.” Kitchens began drawing two big Cs in the middle of the area the enemy would walk over, both with their openings facing each other.

“So you want to use the fire for our backs, not theirs?”

“Indeed. This way, we can drop a force anywhere on the field inside one of those semicircles of fire, and the enemy won’t be able to run, but they won’t be able to reach their backs either. They’ll still be able to press in on the sides, so the phalanx formation won’t work, but you will be able to send in a less organized, less formation-heavy units to wreak havoc and break up the enemy’s pressure on the phalanx.”

“That’s . . .” Darwin stared at it, his right eyebrow creeping towards his hairline as the whole thing began to put itself together in his head. “That’s not a bad idea at all. I wonder if we can build a parachute for Fuzzy Wuzzy. Maybe even get a top hat for him. Nothing would make this plan better than having a giant, ferocious, red-eyed bear parachuting off a Blue-Drake while wearing a monocle and top hat into the battlefield, with Minx shouts war cries down from above the entire time, of course.”

“I’ll tell Minx that if she can complete that outfit before the fight starts, I’ll let her off chores today and tomorrow,” Kitchens said. He had been pulling out a bottle of sake before Darwin told him the idea, but instead put the sake away, chuckled, and started moving his hands in the familiar ‘Log Off’ gesture that Darwin was getting used to seeing. “Let me go wake her up so she has enough time to actually get it done.”

“Sounds good, though you may want to give her a bit more time. She doesn’t have the same alarm clock as you,” Darwin joked, finally being able to tease someone else for being the old man.

“Easy there, upstart,” Kitchens snapped back with a light-hearted tone. “You need me around. If I leave, you’ll be the grandpa of the group again. Anyways, I need to go get my daughter. After seeing the setup, I can be sure that if she misses out on a fight like this, she’ll never forgive me. It’ll be worse than that time I just happened to accidentally spill an entire can of crushed ghost peppers into her boyfriend's meal when he came over for dinner. I thought watching an eighteen year old boy doing a sprinkler impression with his eyes at a dinner table was funny, but she didn’t forgive me for a year. Apparently after eating that much spicy food, his tastes suddenly changed.”

“Eighteen? So this happened recently then?” Darwin asked out of curiosity, but quickly regretted it.

“No, this was three years ago. Why are you asking?” Kitchens’ tone turned cold, and his chest almost seemed to puff up a bit as he moved closer to Darwin, staring him dead in the eye. “You’re not thinking of making advances on my daughter, are you? Two girls not enough? Are you trying for a third?”

“Uh, no. No, sir,” Darwin found himself feeling more than just slightly intimidated, but as soon as he said ‘no,’ Kitchens let him know that he was just joking and patted him on the shoulder with a good laugh. “Good. Because I think a man of good taste should prefer even his alcohol to be over twenty years old. Be back soon.” Kitchens faded.

Darwin looked back at the entrance of the cave, seeing that the Blue-Drakes were beginning to spawn again. He knew he still had work ahead of him. He was happy Kitchens had been the first to log on. The Blue-Drake strategy would definitely improve their chances of winning by giving the greatest warriors a chance to shine, but it wasn’t a tactic he could participate in. He needed to be with his people, he couldn’t leave the phalanx ranks. If something went wrong, if something didn’t go as planned, he would need to be with his people, not savaging around on the battlefield like he was used to--and that meant he needed to keep the soul bar topped off at full. After all, I have no idea how long this battle will last or when it will even start, Darwin thought as he made his way towards the cave’s entrance and the newly spawned drakes.

“There! That’s him! That’s the one! See, I told you! He looks just like I said, doesn’t he?” Darwin was interrupted by shouting just as he finally finished stepping into the lair.

“He looks nothing like you described, Louie,” another voice said. As Darwin turned around, he saw a group of a dozen or so Humans walking up to him, four familiar faces leading them. “You said he was like ten feet tall, with a tail, wings and horns the size of a man’s head. That man there can’t be more than six feet tall. You even got his eyes wrong! They are just red! Not giant balls of fire! So what on earth are you talking about, saying he looks exactly like you described?”

“But he’s got horns! And if you saw the determined way he stared at us all, like he could do anything he wanted in the world, you might have thought he was ten feet tall too,” Louie tried to justify.

“You should have known that the poet would exaggerate the details.” Reginald nudged the outspoken new guy hard enough to knock him off balance. “Your fault for believing him over us to begin with.”

“I didn’t believe him. I’m just not going to admit that he looks exactly like Louie said.”

“Well, at least you didn’t completely ignore us and mistake that bossy Alex guy for being the leader. I can’t believe you went up to him bowing and whatnot. I think you were even shaking a bit there, Darnel. Did you think he was going to murder you?”

“He might have. I don’t know. I heard he chopped your leader in half after being offered tea and crumpets. I had a right to be scared. What if I offered him the wrong gift, or if my gift wasn’t enough? Or what if showing up and offering a gift is simply rude in his mind? You can’t tell what will set a man off, and this man murdered the last person who annoyed him.”

“He’s got a point there, Steve. Some people are just crazy.”

“I told you all before that this is not a set up. He’s a nice guy, and our leader was a spy!”

“Sure, sure. That, or this is all a really elaborate plan to get me back for going on a few dates with your sister and not writing her afterwards,”

“I wouldn’t get us all killed over you being a jerk. Just you, especially when I tell Darwin what you said about his outfit. What was it again? The only type of grown men who run around with open flaps are perverts and deviants?” Steve grinned, and the whole group laughed at the newcomer.

“I did not say that! Stop lying! Shush, he can hear us. You’re going to get us killed!”

“Us? Or just a certain philandering fool who just so happens to be the same guy who hasn’t written my sister in the last three months? The way she pines kinda reminds me of that time you told me that the Great Lord Darwin w--”

“I’ll writer her! I’ll write her! Just quiet down.” The man’s white face had now fully submerged into a ghostly pale color as the panic continued to spread.

“Hmm. Maybe you should send her flowers. A real gentleman always sends flowers to a lady he is courting.”

“I’ll do anything, anything! Just keep it down will--”

“Excuse me, can I help you?” Darwin said, much bemused by the fact the two were still going at it even though they had already come to a dead stop in front of him.

“Yes, Lord Darwin, we’re here about the offer you extended us earlier,” Reginald spoke up, butting through the two men, who, upon realizing Darwin was listening to them, both went deathly quiet. “We have come to join you and seek refuge from the Animal Kingdom.”

“Are you all that have come?”

“No, Lord Darwin,” one of them spoke up. “Other than us, every one here is either the leader or a co-leader of their band of freedom fighters.”

“I’d say a few thousand, maybe three at most, Lord Darwin,” Reginald said.

“So I’m Lord Darwin now?” Darwin suddenly took note of the title change he was receiving from the guards.

“Well, the angry guy with the spear, Alex, he said that if we didn’t address you properly, he would kill us all,” Louie laughed. “I told him we were old friends, that I was there before you got all horned and whatnot, but he didn’t take no for an answer. Said, ‘You address the Lord Darwin improperly, and I will gut you on the spot.’ Right scary lad you’ve got there.”

“He’s a great man,” Darwin complimented Alex. Sometimes, I'm not sure who is actually in charge here: me or him, Darwin pondered for a minute. “Well, I’m glad to see you’ve decided to join us. We could use the help.”

“Help? I’m guessing this has to do with all those scouts that were trying to catch us on our way here,” Reginald took a stab at the Panda King’s reasoning. “I think the Panda King really is going to try to exterminate us once and for all this time.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been told. I’ve also been told that he’ll be here very soon,” Darwin said, remembering how dire Stephanie’s warning had sounded.

“You’ve been told? By the Golden Goddess? Did she say when? Did she say how many were coming?” All of them started looking at each other rapidly, eyes unsteady and darting. “Lord Darwin, are we going to be safe?”

Darwin saw their nervous looks. He wanted to say, ‘No, I have no idea if we’re going to be okay.’ He felt like he should honestly answer them and admit, ‘Well, some of you might be okay, but there is a good chance that most of us will die.’ Except, it wouldn’t do any good. They would either all die here or live on with some, perhaps many, having fallen in the upcoming battle. There was no escaping a tyrant with the type of territorial control and army size that Darwin assumed the Panda King actually had. Being honest, telling them the truth--it’ll do nothing more than cause them more pain and suffering than they have already been through. “We’ll be fine. That formation that Alex is training them in, the funny one with the long spears, it will save our lives and slaughter the furballs; but, we could always use more help with the defenses if you have any willing men.”

They breathed out a sigh of relief in unison. “Well, I can’t say much for the rest of them, but for us, we’re with you until the end, Boss. The Golden Goddess herself deemed you the savior. So if you need our help, we will gladly give it,” one of the new guys said, extending his hand. As Darwin reached out to shake it, he saw the man’s eyes, which were originally brown, brightly flash red. His brown hair darkened into a deep black, and his skin began to pale out from tan to the same type of white that Darwin’s was. “I’m Kirk,” the man said as he shook Darwin’s hand.

Darwin wasn’t the only one shocked by the transformation. Everyone’s mouth kind of dropped as they watched the process. He had seen it before, but it had been a while; and, even so, it was weird seeing it less than an inch away from him.

“Holy crap,” another one of the leaders said. “It’s just like the Golden Goddess said! Me next! I pledge my ‘legiance too!” he shouted, going through the same transformation as Kirk had.

“I kind of like my beautiful brown hair,” Louie said, frowning. “Is there a way to join you without giving up my deep, blue eyes? It’s one of the things girls love about me.”

“Louie, no girl has ever loved your eyes or your poetry. Just sign up,” Steve said as he put forth his hand for Darwin. “I am in. This guy has been a godsend since day one.”

One after another, they reached their hands out and shook Darwin’s, each going through the same transformation and each being christened with the new Demon racial stats as they joined the StormGuard Alliance.

“Is it just me,” Reginald said as he stared at his biceps, then jumped up and down before flexing yet again, “or do you guys feel stronger than before? Like everything is lighter and easier?”

“No, it’s not just you. I feel like I could go all night,” the man who had apparently not stayed with Steve’s sister said, looking at his hands as if they were new to him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t write my sister after all,” Steve laughed.

“Well, we’re ready to help out. What do we need to do?” Louie asked, stepping in front of the others. “This is our fight now too. Just tell us how we can help.”

“For starters?” Darwin started to think. He wanted to shift it all to Alex, to let his loyal general and quartermaster delegate responsibilities, but he knew that wasn’t the way the world was going to work this time. “On average, how good are you guys at archery?”

“Much better than we are with swords. We’ve been hunting in these woods since we were old enough to crawl. There’s not a man who can pull a bowstring faster than I can,” Reginald proudly bragged, chest puffed out.

“Then how about you take every man trained with the bow and start fletching arrows out of what is left from the wood we gathered. We’ll put every trained archer, woman and child big enough to pull a bowstring in two groups when the fight starts. The groups will each be positioned behind alternate sets of walls, and we’ll have you rain arrows down upon the enemy once the battle breaks out.” Darwin was actually rather pleased with the idea. Every guard and soldier he had seen in the giant castle city was a melee fighter. He didn’t notice a single one with a bow. If he had over a thousand archers, and the phalanx held, this wasn’t going to be a win: it was going to be a massacre. “Gather up the rest of the able-bodied men and report to Alex for training. We need more warm bodies in the phalanx as soon as possible.”

“Lord Darwin, did you say women and children too? With the bows?” one of the men he didn’t know yet asked.

“I did,” he looked over at the man. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, it’s just . . . Women and children don’t usually fight. They usually do other things during battles” He tried to be as well mannered as possible with his excuse.

“I’ll tell you what . . . ” Darwin said, purposefully dragging out the delay between the word what and the next sentence as he tried to think of one of the cool girl power quotes from old fantasy movies he had watched. “You find me a woman or boy who wants to wait inside the dungeon with no say in whether they live or die, and they’re more than welcome to do it. Otherwise, give them a bow and the freedom to choose for themselves whether or not they want to defend themselves, their friends and their families. Let them choose if they want to die fighting or cowering inside a cave.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t going to go south?”

“It will if we start treating everyone like cowards and don’t allow good, able bodies to carry their weight,” Darwin replied with a smirk. With all of the great female adventurers and contributors to quests, it’s amazing that people still hold these type of reservations. I certainly didn’t think Louie’s group had any such issues. They seemed to be more concerned with political correctness than two politicians in a debate.

“Right, right,” Steve nodded in agreement. “You should know that the Lord Darwin always sends two women to do his dirty work for him, clearing out and prepping enemies before he ever shows up. It was like that when he came to talk to our leader. Before we ever saw him there were two cuties already holding weapons at us. Then he sends another two to go meet up with the other camp. Darwin is always sending women first to do his dirty work.”

I . . . I did not send them to do my dirty work for me! Darwin almost corrected him, but then decided that he had spent enough time and effort on talking with his new recruits. “Split up into two groups of archers and send the able-bodied men who don’t use a bow to Alex for training. The battle is going to start any minute, and we aren’t aiming for a win. We’re aiming for a massacre,” Darwin did his best commanding voice. “Now.”

“Yes, Lord Darwin!” the four archers said as they bowed, the others following suit within a second, and the whole group departed. Not realizing that they could still be heard, they started arguing again as soon as they thought they were safe. “You think there will be an official musical instrument for the . . .”

Darwin, spirits lifted from the discovery of a few thousand additional fighters, given he only had around three hundred and fifty to begin with, made his way back into the dungeon. With everyone starting to turn to him for answers and relying on him now more than ever, he had a lot to think about. Stephanie had promised that everyone could come with them into the real world, but did that include thousands or just the hundreds they initially had? Was there going to be a way to provide food and shelter for every single person who was coming through the portal, or was the world of Tiqpa a better option?

“Looking glum there, buddy,” Daniel, who was waiting for him near one of the Blue-Drakes, said.

“Yeah, lot on my mind. Wait, you’re up too?”

“Of course I am! Kitchens sent the whole group a private message just a few minutes ago. Said today was going to be another epic battle that people wouldn’t want to miss and that you needed our help and would die a terrible, awful death if we didn’t log on and chip in right away. So I figured, ‘If the big boss man needs our help, I best forget about sleeping in and get on right away.’ Don’t know about the others, but I’m sure they’ll be on as soon as they get the message. We got your back, old man, we aren’t going to let you go down without a fight,” Daniel said as he patted Darwin on the back. It was great at cheering Darwin up for a minute, but it also left him feeling a bit torn on another subject.

He wanted to join them in the main fight, battle with them side by side in what would likely be the greatest epic struggle of swords and fury since they first arrived in this land, but he had to stay with his people. He had to maintain the lines, watch over his troops, and make sure everyone was doing what was needed. As much as the desire for blood and vengeance on the edge of the battle pulled at him, it was not Alex’s responsibility to do everything. It was his. He was going to be the one to bear the responsibility for every person who died on the battlefield in the fight to come.

“Thanks, it means a lot. Let’s get to work then and see if we can’t level a bit while converting more Blue-Drakes before the battle breaks out,” Darwin said, and the two set about farming the Blue-Drakes again. Unlike before, however, they had help this time. Each zone was already camped by several ZombiDrakes, and, along the way the, others started showing up as well: from Kitchens reappearing with Minx to Valerie and Mclean. The fight hadn’t even started yet, but he was already feeling like he had won.

Robert:

Robert sat in his favorite, though rarely used, recliner staring out the window at the encroaching gloom of night outside his home. Even though the sun had set hours ago, and he should have been looking out at an inky darkness, the mélange of light cast by street lamps, nearby homes, and the infrequent passing car guaranteed it would never truly be dark. He felt like he had been running an emotional rollercoaster ever since his meeting earlier in the day with Charles. Out of all the possible outcomes he could have envisioned, out of every whimsical fantasy or expectation for how that meeting would turn out, he had never foreseen this one.

The meeting had gone well enough. In fact, Robert had actually found himself enjoying, by and large, the majority of his little adventure. The ride through the countryside had been fascinating. The sprawling farms and woodland areas outside the city represented a slower, more comfortable lifestyle that Robert had shockingly little experience with. His life and expertise revolved around computers and technology, not the rural country way of life, and Robert was glad to have had the opportunity to catch a glimpse of it, even if it had been from a distance.

Then, there was also Charles' lavish and expansive estate.The immaculately manicured grounds and carefully tended gardens provided a stylized barrier to the rest of the unrefined countryside in which it was hidden. Robert had been left with the profound impression that if you were to view the area from the air, Charles' estate would stand out like a piece of carefully refined silk sewn into a rough patchwork quilt. The entire purpose of the grounds, of course, was to cloister one of the most grandiose mansions Robert had ever seen from the rest of the prying world. The library alone would have proven enough to make many of the smaller colleges throughout the country jealous. Even now, Robert wished he had been given the opportunity to spend time searching through the thousands of volumes that must have been contained there.

Rumors circulated around work, and everywhere else, labeled Charles as a bit of an eccentric. While that would certainly seem to have been a reasonable assumption based on the nature and location of his estate, it had proved to be quite untrue. Even though Charles was obviously wrapped in the trappings of wealth and power, he had shown himself to be both amicable and approachable. Humble was not a word that could ever be applied to Charles. The man practically radiated self-confidence; but, in Robert's experience, most successful men usually did. The image of a man lost and confused, wringing his hands in doubt and confusion and plagued by anxiety, was one rarely ever imagined side by side with that of a thriving, billionaire CEO.

If it wasn't for the strange twist of fate at the end of their meeting, Robert would have soundly concluded that the entire experience had been rather pleasant. Until that point, it had almost seemed as if two like-minded acquaintances were simply meeting for a lunch date to discuss topical subjects --chitchat, really. The initial subjects of their discussion had been light, effortless and expected. The rest of their conversation after lunch, however, had been anything but. Charles had dropped bombs on Robert and caught him both off guard and red-handed.

It wasn't fate or coincidence, Robert thought glumly. Charles knew exactly what he was doing the entire time. It was why he arranged for the meeting to begin with. His entire purpose had been to expose me in order to get to Kass.

That was the crux of Robert's current state summed up in one neat little sentence. He had been lured in by Charles’ affable personality and simultaneously lulled into a false sense of security. Truthfully, he should have known better. He should have seen it coming. In hindsight, there was no way that his actions at work should have gone unnoticed. With all the events going on at the office and the sequence of disasters in game, it had only been a matter of time before someone got curious, played connect the dots, and followed the trail right back to him. Robert berated himself for being so careless and stupid. Every time Kass had come to him with even a small bit of information or an innocuous question, he had run straight to the office in order to dig deeper and use it to find as much information as he could.

I'm worried about Charles using her, but I've been doing it the entire time. I've been using my own daughter as an ignorant, innocent informant to find out about her mysterious acquaintance. I'm no better than Charles. It had all started with that solitary post by a random kid on the forums complaining about being killed by a guy wearing a bathrobe and a spoon. It was laughable and dismissible enough on its own; but, with Kass accidently corroborating the guy's story at the same time, it had been too much of a coincidence not to bear further investigation. As a result, he had gone straight back to work and started snooping around, using his connections throughout the office in order to find out as much information as he could. He had used his friendship with Gary to search through the database for instances involving spoons or bathrobes being put into the game. Gary had even asked the other teams' members if they had made any last minute additions to the game as novelty items.

Looking back, it wasn't shocking that someone had managed to add up two and two together there. The leading design team member starts asking around about strange items being put into the game without warning or notice at the request of the lead programmer, and within the next few days a spoon-emblazoned, bathrobe-wearing madman starts wreaking havoc throughout the game, upturning everything anywhere he goes.

Then, to make things worse, Robert had gone straight back to Gary as soon as he found out the mystery man's name: Darwin. He had asked his friend, once again, to use his position to search through account information and character files trying to find the name. How could I have been so short sighted? Of course they were going to figure that one out.

There was so much scrutiny surrounding the intervention of developers within the game world, Robert was actually surprised it hadn't come sooner. The company maintained a strict hands-off policy when it came to affecting anything within the game. As employees of the company, they were not supposed to, under any circumstance, involve themselves with what went on in game. Sure, there were exclusions for specific instances where a bug may crop up or a problem arise; but, the problem was, there weren't really that many actual problems. Having Gary search for a specific name through the game's account registry must have thrown up red flags to anyone watching for it, especially when there wasn't an attached complaint or support ticket.

I guess I was too good at my own job. Should have made more mistakes in the programming.

At the moment, it felt like a backhanded self-compliment and only served to agitate Robert even more. In truth, there were a million different 'what if' scenarios running through Robert's head as he second guessed himself and questioned how he could have done things differently. He had been so careless, so clumsy. But who could have predicted this? I'm a programmer, not a businessman, a fortune teller or a gambler. I don't have the ability to see the future or take blind risks. I attack things systematically. I see a problem, I take the first logical step in fixing it. If it doesn't work, I move on to step number two. Rinse and repeat until either the problem is fixed or you figure out a solution to it.

Robert lifted the cup he was holding in his hand in order to take a sip, but was greeted only with the cold sensation of ice pressing against his lips instead of liquid. The partially melted cubes rattled in the glass as he lowered it back to the table beside him. Robert slowly reached over, grabbed the bottle of Scotch he had left sitting there, unstoppered it and poured himself two fingers of the caramel-colored liquid before replacing it and taking another sip from his glass.

So what am I supposed to do now? It doesn't really matter how I got into the situation or why. Nothing can change all that. There's no reset button in real life. All that's important now is what I'm going to do next. The first thought that had come to Robert's mind was of simply trying to flee--run away as far as he could and hope that Charles never found him or his daughter. But where are we even supposed to go? Where are we going to hide? Charles has virtually unlimited resources at his disposal. He owns property of one type or another in every major country around the world and, I'm sure, contacts in half the others. How would we ever survive? Sure, I have some savings, but how long would that last? Are we supposed to get fake identities like some shady criminal and live the rest of our lives always looking over our shoulder?

The entire idea was irrational, unreasonable, illogical and improbable, and Robert knew it. This wasn't a movie where he could simply upend his entire life and move to another country or go into hiding on the feeling that something bad was going to happen. This was the real world. There were laws that would protect him no matter what grim future he feared could be in store. It was only his overactive imagination and too many late-night B movies that spurred on the fleeting images of horror and worst-case scenarios.

Charles never gave me any reason to think he would hurt me or Kass. That's crazy. I'm just making things up . . . Dreaming up demons in the shadows where there shouldn't be any. He berated himself for even entertaining such dark fantasies as he took another sip of his drink. No, there would be no running away from this one. The idea was foolish. He had tried to teach Kass his entire life that she shouldn't run from her problems; and, if he did so now, he would only be making himself out to be a hypocrite. Knowing Kass, she would probably call him out on it and never forgive him for it. Besides, while it might have solved some of his problems, at least temporarily, it wouldn't solve them all. If anything, it would just create an entirely new and different set.

Besides, we're probably being watched anyway. I'll bet he's even monitoring my credit card. Robert snorted at the idea derisively. It was obviously drawn from another bad action movie, yet his eyes flickered back and forth as he tried to peer into the darkness outside the window of his home anyway.

Why did I never disclose the information before anyway? Robert puzzled, questioning his motives again. It certainly wouldn't have hurt anything for someone to know where I was getting the information. Wait . . . Robert's face scrunched up in thought as he tried to remember exactly how things had played out, exactly what he had said and to whom. Did I ever tell Gary why I was asking him for such strange favors? Did . . . Could he . . . Robert shook his head to dispel the thought before it could ever coalesce and come to fruition. He took another sip of liquor to chase the thought away just for good measure.

No, the answer had to be much simpler. The responsibility was solely on him. He had chosen to pursue the path, and now he was going to have to walk it. I was just trying to do my job, Robert reasoned. Something was strange, I knew it wasn't right, and I was trying to fix it. I just didn't want to involve Kass if I could help it.

Robert had spent the better part of his life separating his work and home life for one reason or another. For the most part, it was easy. Kass had only ever been interested in his work to the extent that it might have had an impact on her own life. Whenever he finished a project and was looking for a new job, it usually meant that he was going to be picking them up and moving them. Even though it had only happened twice before, the threat was always there. That was one of the main reasons he had toyed with the idea of teaching at a university. He knew that it would probably be a long-term position, which would preclude the necessity of having to move her around the country chasing after work again. In the end, however, she had graduated high school and moved away to college before he had ever taken the plunge into the academic world.

Then, for the years she was away studying, it had been even easier. They had kept in touch, but she was so focused on her own goals and graduating that she had never really taken the time to ever even ask more than 'How is work going?' or 'Are you going to be starting anything new anytime soon?' For the most part, she was just politely asking for the sake of making conversation, not because she was genuinely interested in anything he might have been working on. Robert had known early on that she wasn't going to follow in his footsteps and take up programming. There were a lot of fathers who may have been disappointed that their only child didn't share the same ambitions as them, but Robert wasn't one of them.

I didn't want to get her involved in what’s going on, but now I've been pushing her to more seriously consider a position with the company. Robert took another sip of his drink as the idea suddenly dawned on him as being somewhat counterproductive and hypocritical. How could he possibly hope to keep his professional and home lives separated if Kass were going to work for the company? Even though she may not have the technical background to work as a programmer doing the exact same job as Robert, he had envisioned her possibly working somewhere with design or as a community liaison. Kass certainly seemed vocal enough about her ideas and suggestions on how to make improvements, anyway. If anything, her first hand experience from having actually played the game gave her a distinct advantage. Robert knew from listening to the tirades around the office that designers were often critiqued as being out of touch with their player base--it was one of the main arguments against not being able to play the game as employees. If she were to take a position like he had encouraged her to, any position really, he wouldn't be able to maintain that distance any more. The lines between work and home were going to become blurred even more than they already had.

Does it even matter, anymore? Kass is an adult. She can take care of herself, Robert chided himself. Sure, she seems to be a little naive about certain things at times and a little self-centered, but who isn't? I can't protect her forever. But from something like this . . . Robert knew he didn't have a ton of options left on the table. Maybe he was just being unreasonable. Kass would see reason. He could just talk to her and explain what was going on. He was her father: it was his job to protect her and her job to listen to him. He tended to be a little laid back most of the time, but when he had something serious to say, she would listen. She would have to. Right?

Robert went to take another sip of his drink, but, to his dismay, he found that it was empty and the ice completely melted. I'll fix that in a minute, he thought to himself, setting the empty rocks glass on the table beside the bottle. He crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to stare out the window. I'll fix it . . .

The next thing Robert knew, he was being awakened by a rather bright light burning somewhere behind his shut eyes. His eyes were trying to flutter open, but his eyelids felt rather heavy, and something crusty was trying to hold them in place to prevent them from opening.

"Mmmugh," Robert groaned, rubbing at his eyes to help them in their struggle. He was immediately aware of two distinct facts: his entire body was stiff in places it normally wasn't, even for someone his age, and his lower back protested even the idea of stretching to relieve the stiffness. Robert ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head as he came to his senses and realized where he was and why.

"Hmm." Robert stood up against the advice of his major muscle groups and stretched his arms over his head as if he were trying to reach the ceiling. He pressed his hands against his back and was rewarding with a series of pops as he cracked his spine. He then twisted side to side slowly trying to get blood flowing to the aching muscles again.

Once he was finished, he grabbed the empty glass from table and began plodding towards the next room and the kitchen like a slow-moving zombie.

"I'm getting too old for this . . ." Robert muttered as he staggered into the kitchen, upended the glass from last night in the sink and went about brewing a pot of coffee.

"Too old for what, Dad?"

Robert would have spun around at the sound of the unexpected voice except for the fact that moving anywhere quickly at the moment felt like a rather bad idea--one he may not have even been capable of had he tried.

"Too old to be falling asleep in a chair instead of a proper bed." Robert stretched his muscles again, trying and failing to get some small semblance of flexibility back. "Or maybe just not quite old enough yet." Robert gave Kass a wan smile as he slowly lowered himself into one of the chairs at the kitchen table."

"Easy there, old man," Kass said teasingly. "Next thing you know, you'll be asking me to make you warm milk and change your Depends."

"Yeah. You have my permission to just go ahead and shoot me if that ever happens," Robert said, lowering his head into his hands and hunching forward to rest his elbows on the table.

"You sure you want to wait that long? You're looking pretty rough this morning. I could just go ahead and put you out of your misery if you wanted,” Kass said jokingly.

Robert removed one hand from cradling his head long enough to point a finger at Kass and then point it behind him as far as his arm would allow towards the coffee pot. "You, child. Coffee. Now."

"Wow, you really are fiending this morning. Well, hang on, junkie. I can't just wave my magic wand and make the coffee brew any faster."

Magic. Wand. Last night's events and all of yesterday suddenly came crashing down on him together at once. Robert lifted his head and sat up looking at Kass. He suddenly felt a hollow pit form in the bottom of his stomach and roll over on itself. His mind quickly began pushing back at the blanket of fog that seemed to have descended upon it.

"I might be getting old," Robert said as he stood up, "but with age comes experience." Robert walked the few steps to where the coffee was just starting to percolate. "And with experience," he said as he removed the pot from underneath the drip and replaced it with his own coffee mug, "comes the first cup of coffee."

"Touché, Father. But don't you think you should let your wonderful and loving daughter have the first cup? After all, she has an appointment to keep today that might actually make her some money."

Robert raised his eyebrow as he stared at her through red-rimmed eyes. "The same wonderful and loving daughter who offered to put her old man out of his misery just a moment ago? Nah, I think I'll pass on that one."

"Hmpf." Kass put on her best pouty face and simultaneously tried to look innocent.

Robert simply chose to ignore her as he removed his mostly-full cup from underneath the drip and placed the pot back to continue filling up as he resumed his usual seat at the table.

"So what do you have lined up for today?" Robert asked as he took his first sip of coffee. "Did you finally manage to land an interview?"

"Erm . . . Something like that," Kass tried to dodge the question as she suddenly made herself unusually busy looking for a coffee cup in the cabinet.

"'Something like that?' Either it's an interview or it's not."

"Well, it's not exactly a job interview, but it will definitely give me a tidy little paycheck that should hold me over for a while longer."

"So . . ." Robert pushed for the answer she was avoiding.

"Well . . ." Kass began as she finally chose her usual coffee cup from the front of the cabinet and turned to face him." You know that radio station that caters specifically to gamers? G.O.R.N.? They put out a notice that they were looking for anyone who had any information about the girl who was riding the Hydra during that giant battle--"

"And you're that girl," Robert finished for her.

Kass was obviously caught off guard and it showed. Robert took a rather large gulp of coffee waiting for her reaction. It felt like hot lava pouring into a metal bucket as it hit his stomach, but it was helping to wake him up.

"Yes . . ." she started slowly, obviously unsure of how she should proceed.

Robert noticed her hesitancy and decided to play into it. "Did you think I wouldn't find out, or did you just not want your old man to know you bought a new pony?"

Kass made a face as she answered, almost like a scowl that was never finished. "No, I suppose I should have expected it. It's not like it was a big secret, anyway. I just wasn't sure how you would react. I know you guys have been so busy at work and--"

"And you didn't want your dad to worry about you while you were off gallivanting on a giant Hydra?"

"It's a game, Dad. It's not like anything could actually happen."

Robert finished his coffee in a single gulp and stood up to pour himself more. After he had finished filling his mug for the second time, he reached out and filled Kass's as well.

"That's true." Robert replaced the coffee pot but didn't sit back down, instead choosing to remain standing as he spoke to his daughter. "But I also have the sneaking suspicion that you know you were doing something you weren't supposed to be. Like, for example, using an in-game mob in a manner other than directed--and as a personal transportation system no less."

Robert hoped that he had wrapped his point in enough levity that it would soften the blow. The last thing he wanted to do right now was put Kass on the defensive.

She took the bait. "'A manner other than directed,' Dad? The Hydra didn't exactly come with a warning label."

"Well, maybe it should have," Robert said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. He was made aware of the fact that he was going to need to shave today as he did so. "I remember how much trouble you had just passing your test to get your learner's permit, and you did that in a sedan."

"Must you always bring up that?" Kass finally took a seat at the table across from where Robert had previously been sitting. Rather than sitting down himself, however, Robert continue to stand, leaning back on the counter instead.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you. How would you feel if your account were to be suspended because you were exploiting mobs in the game? And even using it to kill other players." Robert paused to take a sip from his new cup of coffee. "I may work for the company, Kass, but that doesn't make you bulletproof. Even I couldn't do anything to save you if that were to happen. Then, just maybe, you might actually have to find a real job instead of hiding your head in that game and trying to avoid the unemployment issue."

"Aren't you guys expressly forbidden from involving yourselves in the game?" Kass asked, clearly grasping at the first straw that came to mind in the hopes of saving herself. "Besides, I told you, I'm doing the interview today. They offered to pay me five thousand dollars just for talking about it on the radio."

"So you knowingly exploited the game, and now you're going to go on public radio and talk about it to a bunch of other people playing the same game? Don't you think that might be a bad idea? You're openly admitting to everyone that you've been cheating. How soon before they start questioning everything else? I know you were rather proud of being one of the highest level frost mages, but don't you think that everyone else will accuse you of cheating to do that too?"

"It wasn't cheating, Dad. Darwin used a skill to turn the Hydra into a pet so he could control it. Then, he just had it fight for us. He did the same thing with the Turtle-Wolves."

"Kass," Robert spoke carefully, trying to take any accusatory tone out of his voice, "there's no skill in the game that would let you control a high-level mob like that. You can tame certain types of monsters and use them as a pet if you're playing as the correct class, but never so many at once. As soon as you go on the radio and start talking about it, people are going to cry foul play. Think about it: have you seen anyone else in the game who could do that?"

Kass looked back at her father, obviously trying to decide how to answer the quandary Robert had presented to her. "If it weren't part of the game, he wouldn't be able to do it, Dad. Darwin is a much higher level than most of the other players on the server. Just because they can't do it yet doesn't mean that they won't be able to later on when they unlock the skills."

Robert began shaking his head as soon as Kass started talking. "No, I don't think you're understanding me. It's not part of the game at all. No one should be able to control that many creatures at once--not ever. A skill like that would be incredibly powerful and create problems for a wide variety of reasons. If you were able to control an entire army of monsters, think about the effect it would have on the game. You could clear entire dungeons without ever having to fight. The natural conflicts between the in-game races and the NPC armies would be meaningless since players could theoretically just create their own and do whatever they wanted.

"Not to mention that, from a back-end standpoint, the load on the servers would be incredible. Just imagine if hundreds of players all showed up to the same spot simultaneously, all controlling their own private armies. I can't even begin to imagine how much strain it would be on the AI to have to sort out and control that many units in the same area at once. It would literally be attempting to execute millions of calculations and commands every second just to sustain them. Our systems are pretty amazing. I have to admit that even I have been impressed with their performance so far, but there's very little likelihood it could handle something on that scale. We would never intentionally program something into the game that was going to set us up for failure."

"Then you must have made a mistake somewhere in the coding," Kass said accusingly. "There must be a hole, a loop or whatever it is you call it, that's letting him do it."

"No," Robert responded flatly. "You told me before that Darwin was a fighter, right?"

"Yes," Kass said, nodding her affirmation.

"There's no parameter or condition anywhere that would allow a fighter of any type or level to have control over monsters. The function is specifically reserved for another class entirely; and, believe me, there is no point where even that class could ever control a creature as strong as the Hydra."

Robert paused, taking another sip from his cup. He wanted to give her time to process what he was saying before he continued. "Right after you first started playing, around the same time you first told me about Darwin, you mentioned that he was wearing a bathrobe, right? That he was using a spoon as a weapon?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Didn't you find that a little strange? Don't you still?"

"Well, I guess so. I've actually gotten pretty used to it at this point though. I don't even really think that much about it anymore.

"Well, I thought it was a little strange as well. I asked around at the office and had some of the guys go through the object databases. There's no equipable version of a spoon in the game. Don't get me wrong, they exist of course. You could pick them up, move them around, or even eat food with them. There's no way, however, you could attack another player or a mob with one. There's no damage stat associated with it. Even if you were to try and stab someone with one, it wouldn't do anything. As for the bathrobe? That object doesn't even exist. To be quite frank, we have no clue how it's even in the game, much less functioning as an equippable piece of armor. Not to mention the fact that he's playing as a race with a character design that's completely alien to the game world. How many pale-skinned, red-eyed guys have you seen besides him?"

"Dad, what's the point of all this? Darwin isn't a bad person. He's not a hacker, a cheater, or an exploiter like you're trying to make him out to be. He's not the kind of person who would ever do any of those things, believe me. He's a nice guy." Kass was getting defensive, and it showed in her voice.

Robert found himself shaking his head again. "How much do you even really know about this guy, Kass? He's just some random guy in a virtual world hiding behind the guise of a fictional character. He can pretend to be anything he wants and justify it because he's playing a game. He's no different from the people who go around in video games killing anything and everyone 'just because they can.' Do you think those people are really mass murderers in the real world? Serial killers?" Robert was hitting very close to his point without ever actually trying to just outright say it. He knew that Kass would never actually believe the truth of it or how ironic his phrasing was. "I'm willing to bet that most of them are just teenagers living at home with their parents or adults who have ordinary, boring, everyday office jobs."

"I really don't have time for this right now," Kass said coldly as she finished her coffee and stood up. "Like I told you, I have an interview to get to."

Robert sighed. It was clear that he wasn't going to get anywhere by directly attacking Darwin. "You're making a mistake, Kass. I haven't had to tell you that many times in your life, but right now I'm going to say it: you're making a mistake. If you go and give this interview, it's going to backfire on you. You're completely ignoring the backlash that's going to come from it. I'm asking you the exact same questions that they're going to ask you at the interview. I mean, let's pretend, just for a second, that you're either vague or unwilling to answer their questions. What's going to happen when they find out that you're my daughter? How's it going to look when the lead programmer's daughter can mysteriously do all these special things no one else can and that she has access to all these amazing skills that no one else does? How do you think that's going to look for me, Kass? Don't you think this is going to have an effect on my career? That no one at work will start asking the same questions?"

"So that's what this is about," Kass accused. "You're just worried about protecting yourself and your job."

"No, I'm worried about protecting you, Kass. You're my daughter. My primary job is to protect you."

"I'm an adult now, Dad," Kass snapped back defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can make my own decisions, and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm not some little girl anymore who needs you to hold her hand everywhere she goes. Besides, you're the one who was so insistent I find a job and make some money. I'm just doing exactly what you told me to."

Robert was immediately grateful she had provided him the opportunity he had been looking for. "Speaking of which, I mentioned you to Charles yesterday during our meeting. I told him I had been encouraging you to apply for a job with the company, and he seemed to be thrilled by the idea. He said he would be happy to even meet with you himself. This is big, Kass. He could place you anywhere you wanted. If things went well and you impressed him, you would basically have your pick of any job you wanted."

"Oh, is that what that meeting was about?" Kass snapped back. "So you could beg your weird boss to give your out-of-work, loser daughter a job? Thanks for that little boost of confidence, Dad. I can't make my own decisions, I can't decide who my friends are, and I need you to beg someone to give me a job. Thanks a lot, really."

As soon she finished speaking, Kass stormed out of the kitchen and back up the stairs.

Chapter 10:  Guess Who's Coming for Dinner?

Qasin:

The air was salty and foul, almost to the point of being putrid, as Qasin marched behind the army of over ten thousand men with the Panda King. It was the familiar smell of sweat from countless men going farther than they should in heavy armor under the strain of the midday heat. It was the stench that leached into the uniforms, the lining of their armor, to the point where only thorough scrubbing ever pulled it off. Scrubbing, however, was a task that most men never did, a task that those downwind paid for during every march. It was an expected odor, but Qasin didn’t have to like it. Just blow the other way, he grumpily cursed at the wind as they moved between the trees of the forest.

“It’s quiet,” he said, putting voice to his thoughts. “We haven’t even seen one scout.”

“That’s because they are afraid. When the might of our army moves, even the ground trembles,” the Panda King bragged again. He had been continuously boasting the entire trip: ‘My army can crush anything,’ ‘My army is undefeated,’ ‘Every man in my army can kill ten of those weak Humans.’ He bragged at every possible chance.

“Pay him no heed,” Eve said with her usual fake smile. “He’s just upset that there is a situation he can’t control. The worse it gets, the further he’ll spiral,” she reassured him. But what was the point? Was she also unable to control the situation?

As they got closer to the enemy encampment, less and less of why he was even bothering to stand on this side made sense. Even Eve’s attempts to calm and coax him were becoming transparent. She just doesn’t want her puppet out of line, he thought as his feet moved mechanically. The lure of the upcoming bloodshed was eradicated by the queasy feeling he got from standing too near the Panda King and from listening to Eve try and manipulate him. Perhaps she, too, is feigning confidence even as she begins to lose control. Maybe she knows these things won’t go as she had hoped and that, instead of a glorious victory for her new pet dog, her brother will crush the Panda King, and she will be left unable to control him like she has me.

“This brute butchered the sacred forests! What did the trees ever do to him?” The Panda King gasped as his men began to walk out of the woods, no longer dodging trees but instead stepping over freshly-cut stumps.

“We’re still a ways from the mountain,” Qasin noted, as he struggled to peer over the other warriors, a hard thing to do at his height. “If their lumber harvesting extends this far back, what did they do with all of the wood?”

“Probably lit fires, the hairless monkeys. You know how their kind gets so cold whenever a breeze passes.” The Panda King almost spit the words. Whatever calm and collected demeanor the King had shown when Qasin first met him was clearly gone. “My apologies, am I not being considerate? Are you’re cold as well?” The Panda King laughed at Qasin. “It’s too bad we didn’t bring blankets for our new friends. How inhospitable.” The Panda King’s drooling mouth flicked pieces of spit as he spoke, and his eyes squinted despite his face’s cheerful demeanor.

The hearty laughter grated on Qasin’s ears. “Hubris,” Qasin said. Only one word, but enough to rile the Panda King’s anger and put a sudden stop to his laughter.

“A man is only arrogant when he is wrong,” the fat bear countered. “If he is right, then he is just confident. It’s not hubris to think that we will trample the enemy as if he is naught but dirt beneath our feet when our force is this mighty, and they have only a few hundred men and no understanding of war.”

“Hubris,” Qasin repeated, confident in his assertion. The Panda King would fall, the Humans would no longer be oppressed in this land, and all would be right with the world. The best part about it? He had a front row seat for their downfall. He would, like he had so many times before back in the Human Kingdom, have a front and center view of one of his champions destroying the arrogant competition who dared to challenge him. Darwin was a new champion, but the result would be the same. No cavalry, few archers, no notable magicians . . . The champion that had crushed a legion of White-Horns would not be undone by this rabble. It was indeed hubris for the Panda King to think otherwise.

As the clinking, clacking and clicking sounds of metal crushing metal, pressing dirt, and banging wooden weapon shafts continued to ring out, a noticeable jolt in the cacophony rang through from the front. We’re here. Qasin smiled. Blood would pour bountifully across this once beautiful land.

“What is that? I can’t see the field.” The Panda King tried to look over his troops to no avail. “Guards, prepare the platform!” He yelled as his army finished coming to a stop.

As Qasin watched the rear line of men unloaded their backpacks of material and begin building a giant, three-story-tall platform in the middle of the field. Qasin sighed. It wasn’t unusual. He had seen nobles like this before even in the Human lands. Qasin personally hated it, firmly believing that a strong leader should be in the front lines of any conflict along with his people; but, he also knew that there would be this type of person--the one who treated his subjects as a means to an end and the battles in war as nothing more than shows where he could watch from afar as other people achieved his objectives for him.

“Are you coming?” The Panda King teased as he started walking up the stairs to seats that were being hastily finished at the top. “I wouldn’t want our guests of honor to miss the destruction of every fighting Human in this land.”

And I don’t want to miss your arrogance being crushed, Qasin thought as he started walking up the stairs. In just a short time a rivalry had developed between Qasin and the fat ruler. Everything about the bear-man reminded Qasin of the Human Council, of how much he had hated the double-talking and snide remarks when they thought they were winning.

“Ladies first,” Qasin extended an arm, letting Eve go up the stairs before him. This fight was going to be a show indeed. He smiled, more assured with each passing moment that things were going to go exactly as he expected.

“What idiots!” the Panda King said as he reached the top of the hastily constructed pavilion and looked out over the field. Qasin couldn’t see what he was talking about at first, but as he finished climbing the stairs and looked out over the field below, he saw it.

What on earth is he thinking? Qasin thought as he looked out over the battlefield.

“He didn’t even put up a gate?” the Panda King laughed. “That stupid monkey thinks he doesn’t need any defenses, that he can beat us in the open field.”

“I wouldn’t be so confident,” Eve said, looking at the blockade of blue-scaled shields with spears sticking up over them that stood where there should have been a door, gate, or another form of defense. “He is no fool.”

“No fool?” The Panda King couldn’t control his laughter. “He built a massive wall and then left a huge opening for us to come through. Did he think he could stop the forces of our legions with cumbersome shields and unwieldy toothpicks? Or are the toothpicks just complimentary, intended to go with the snack? Those absurdly large shields will make excellent platters.”

“I’m telling you he is no fool,” Eve warned again, but it was obvious from the fact that the King was still chuckling that he didn’t believe it for a minute. There just wasn’t an obvious explanation for what the Human side was doing.

Even Qasin felt defeated looking at the shieldwall. Where is the gate? Where are his pots with molten tar to spill out on the first wave of enemies? Where are the archers lined up against the wall? What happened to the Blue-Drakes? he asked himself, suddenly panicking and doubting that the Humans would even stand a chance. What are you thinking, Champion? His eyes darted across the field, looking for the man who had slain a thousand White-Horns, the man who had brought back the confidence and fire he needed to save the realm and kill the poisonous snakes within his court.

“Let’s not delay the inevitable,” the Panda King said as he turned and walked away from Eve and Qasin, who were still looking over the stand’s railing. “Heralds,” he called down to five horn blowers who sat at the foot of the stand. “Sound the horns! We crush them now!”

As the horns blew and the army started marching forward in a disjointed, clumsy and disorganized fashion, Qasin found himself holding his breath. They weren’t charging, they were walking. The sight left Qasin with an uneasy feeling, as if he could feel every beat of his heart, every second of every minute, that led up to the fight. Out of the Panda King’s legions of troops, only one thousand at most were archers, and they quickly became clear as daylight. They are standing out like a black target on a white background, Qasin thought as he watched the troops separate and leave them unattended. Qasin looked to the woods on either side of the clearing. If he were coordinating the battle, this is where his troops would have rushed in to flank the unprotected archers, crippling the enemy’s ranged attacks--but nothing happened. There wasn’t even the slightest sign of movement on the army’s flanks. This can’t be all. It can’t end like this. Qasin’s heart strained as the possibility of Darwin’s failure became more and more real to him.

Then, through clenched fists, strained eyes, and held breath, he watched it happen. The slowly advancing soldiers, armed with their mixed bag of weapons, crossed the point where a gate should have been. They dodged the spikes as well as they could with only one or two people getting impaled on the long, sharpened poles that surrounded the walls as the force pressed forward. Then, just as the mob reached a narrow gap within the enemy's defenses, the defenders began shouting incoherently and banging their weapons against their shields creating a deafening clamor. As one, Darwin’s troops then lowered their shields, raised their spears, and crammed together so that no part of their bodies were visible from where Qasin stood watching. It was like staring at an odd mix of a porcupine and a turtle as the spears shot out in front of the ball, and they began slowly inching forward bit by bit at a time. First a crawl, next a slow walk. Then, just barely a jog and then something less. The two armies clashed.

The earlier ringing of metal on metal was nothing compared to the cacophony of noise created by the hundreds of swords, axes, knives and halberds as they attempting to penetrate the shieldwall created by the Humans’ front line. Yet, despite the ferocity of the initial surge, the Human line refused to give way. On the contrary, the soldiers on the Panda King’s front line found themselves being gored, crushed and thrown to the ground by dozens of spears quickly stabbing each and every soldier they could reach.

“What is happening?” The Panda King stared, dumbfounded, at the clash from his cushioned seat. It wasn’t easy to make out, but Qasin had been in enough fights to know what to look for when a line was dying. “Are our are men making any progress? Are the wannabe monkeys folding in defeat yet?” He was shouting at his subordinates, his anger palpable as the victory he had assumed would happen in an instant was inexplicably taking longer than anticipated.

“I told you he wasn’t a fool, that this should be taken seriously.” Eve smugly watched the fight from the railing, never having taken her chair. “You wouldn’t listen. You just charged in blindly as if it were that simple.”

Defiant, the Panda King ignored Eve. His face grew stern, but he wouldn’t budge. “We will win this day,” he assured everyone watching the spectacle. “We will crush them. Just wait. They hide behind a pebble, believing it will stop a tsunami,” he said with a puffed up chest and a grin baring every tooth it could. Yet, no sooner he had made his declaration than the battle took another turn. There weren’t any archers visible on the wall, but as soon as the Humans defending the gap made any ground against their enemy, they would stop and back up. Then, what seemed like hundreds, if not thousands, of arrows shot up from behind the walls and rained down on the Panda King’s troops.

The damage wasn’t severe. The front line was comprised of strong Ursine warriors with good armor, and they were able to take several hits without falling over, but the barrage was disheartening to the morale of the animal army nonetheless. They had just gone from a sure victory to being repelled by a wall of shields, and now they were being prickled and stabbed by hundreds of falling arrows. Even the Panda King, watching his troops die left and right, could feel their spirits being sapped. “If they think arrows are going to win this fight for them, then let’s show them what real archery looks like! Sound the horn for the archers. Advance to firing position!” the Panda King ordered to the horns. A different, higher pitched set of horns blew this time, three blasts in a very deliberate pattern. It was obviously their way of signalling the archers over the noise of the battle. A rather handy method, Qasin noted, thinking about how he might adopt it for his Kingdom back home.

As the archers began making their way towards the wall, two flaming arrows went up into the air from behind the enemy wall. At this point, Qasin could see that whatever hope the Panda King had of a swift victory had been dashed instantly. Even if he were to eventually triumph, the victory would only be seized through a miserable battle of attrition, but even that thought seemed fanciful as the fire arrows, which signaled the enemy’s next phase of attack, summoned a horde of flying Blue-Drakes from each side of the mountain. They flew over the wall, over the enemies, and then rained hell and brimstone down on the archers. As the archers did their best to try and prick and pelt the beasts, explosions of fire shot up from the ground as the very earth itself seemed to catch fire.

After finishing their first flight path, they circled around, and then all the Blue-Drakes at once ignited the ground in a giant arch of burning flames across the field. “I see the Hydra is still intact,” Qasin, the only one amused at the situation, laughed. While the semicircle was being set ablaze, a second crew of Blue-Drakes, each holding on to a single head of a Hydra and two holding its tail, flew down the center from the mountain and dropped the Hydra plumb in the middle of the burning half-ring of fire. Then, the circling Blue-Drakes that had passed by started swinging low enough to drop off warriors before continuing to rain explosive fire into the middle of the enemy forces from above.

The Panda King’s archers were decimated. The front line was dying by the wave with no sign of having made any impact on the Humans. The fire was making the panda’s army smell like barbeque on the battlefield; and now, to top it all off, and as if to add insult to injury, a giant Hydra with dozens of skilled fighters were claiming a spot in the very middle of the terrain. “No . . . No, we can’t fail. We can’t fail here. Everything is counting on this.” Eve started to panic, her eyes flashing red. “This is . . . This is your fault!” She yelled at Qasin, “You just had to stop and save those people. If you hadn’t bothered with them, we would have made it in time!”

I just had to stop and save them? That was the wrong thing? Qasin thought, but he said nothing. He just stared at her as she clutched her hair so tightly she almost tore it out.

“We’re not going to fail,” the Panda King said, looking over the field. “We just need to pull back the forces, regroup and get the heavy siege equipment out here. If he wants to huddle up under a wall of shields, we’ll crush that wall like we crush every other wall. As far as the Blue-Drakes are concerned, we have the numbers, and we have the nets. We can take refuge under the cover of the trees until we have enough net throwers to rip them out of the sky.”

“I can’t . . . I won’t let it end this way,” Eve mumbled to herself, completely ignoring the Panda King’s new plan. Her feet started to lift into the air, and her body slowly started to hover half a meter above the ground. Her red eyes began glowing like rubies under light, and she began to reach her hands out towards the wall of Humans holding shields. “I don’t care anymore if I have to interfere. I don’t care if this causes problems for us, Stephanie. I won’t let you win like this!” she shouted as the air around her started to crackle with charges of electricity.

This . . . This is worse than with the pirates. Qasin watched, first in wonder and then in horror. This will murder every man, woman and child over there if it has even close to the same effect it did on those brigands. If the King sounds the retreat, there is no telling how much damage proper siege equipment will do. Looking around at his situation, Qasin started putting everything together. One Panda King, three guards, and then I can make it over the railing, he mentally added up his danger. If I get over there, then, given the way those weaklings fight, I should be able to . . . He wanted to finish plotting, to plan out his entire escape route, but just seeing Eve let him know that her spell was almost done. “I’m sorry,” he whispered at her. In a way, he really was. She was the first person who had taken the time to get to know him as anyone or anything other than the King. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, pulling out his blade and stabbing it through Eve’s back, directly into her heart, before she could even see him move.

He heard her gargle blood as her now limp body fell to the floor in front of him. He heard the Panda King roaring at him, but it didn’t matter. It was too late for them. Without Eve, the Panda King would fall for sure. Without Eve, his people, the Humans of this land, would be free from the tyranny of the repulsive monarch.

Qasin then turned to the Panda King, but he had seen his betrayal and already closed the distance between him and Qasin, slamming Qasin in the chest with a fist that left Qasin skidding across the floor. As Qasin got up and readied himself for the second attack, the panda chuckled at him. “Is this the might of a Human swordsman? You can’t even figure out where your feet are,” he taunted, but Qasin didn’t react. He had stayed alive in fights because he knew precisely when to ignore an opponent’s challenge, and this was one of those times. As the Panda King dropped to all fours and charged again, Qasin was slightly more prepared. With one sword he intercepted the panda’s clawed hand, which was about to tear into his flesh. With his other blade, he cut the tendons of the aggressing arm even as the great force of the blow sent Qasin flying back against the railing.

The impact of the railing crushed in on his lungs, audibly snapping a few ribs, but Qasin wasn’t alone in his pain as he coughed up blood. The Panda King had taken a serious hit too. He had halted his charge after hitting Qasin, recoiling as he felt the deep cuts from the Human’s blade. As soon as the furious Ursine tried to resume his charge position on all fours, he found himself limping and unable to put any pressure on his injured limb. The Panda King, irritated at losing his ability to charge, stood up. “So you think you’ve gained an advantage, you pitiful primate?” he snarled. “You think I can’t kill you with one hand tied behind my back? I can crush any man!” he roared.

“Just like you’ve managed to crush the Humans over there behind me?” Qasin taunted in return. While the enemy had size and strength on his side and clearly wasn’t lacking in speed, Qasin still had his wits. The Panda was so mad he wasn’t even thinking straight, and he needed to use that to his advantage. “Perhaps you could come over here, and I can teach you how to juggle and dance like the bears do back home.”

“Nonsense! There are no juggling bears!”

“Oh, but there are. We make them beg, whimper and plead for fish. They do tricks at our command.” Qasin continued to bait the panda, watching as the animal’s eyes grew bloodshot with hatred as if every vein in them were slowly bursting from his rage. “But don’t worry, I’m not insulting you. The bears back home are different. They can’t speak or behave. They’re a lesser species, less . . . Human.”

Overcome with rage at this last unthinkable insult, the Panda King sprang forward at Qasin, swiping at him with his good hand. Qasin saw the attack telegraphed a mile away and ducked under it, using both his blades to sever the tendons of the monarch’s good limb as he had done with the other. As Qasin crouched and lifted his swords into the powerful arm sweeping over him, he grimaced from the intense pain in his sides where his ribs had been broken against the railing. The Panda King, doing his best to press his attack despite the fresh wound, followed up by kicking at Qasin in an odd kung fu fashion, but Qasin dodged the attack, just barely managing to stumble out of range in time.

Not wanting to lose momentum and let his enemy regain his composure, Qasin decided to take the offensive this time. As the Panda King desperately swung his two gimped hands down upon Qasin from his right side, Qasin took the blow with his left shoulder as he pulled the blade in his right hand across the Panda King’ jugular.

As the panda fought to keep his balance and stop the blood from spewing out of his neck, Qasin fought just to stand up as his shattered ribs and mauled shoulder ached in unrelenting pain. The blows had taken their toll. After taking a moment to regain his breath, he looked around and laughed. The Heralds were below, horns ready, but there was no one to tell them what to blow. The fallen King’s guards were on the field with the rest of the soldiers, and he, the only Human on this side of the fight, was left alone upon the King’s platform to stand witness to the battle below.

“I’m sorry, Eve,” he said again, louder this time, as he turned to see where her body had fallen. Only, it wasn’t there.

“Qasin, I’m sorry too,” he heard her say from the railing behind him, where she was now standing, clutching the wound he had given her. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” she said, beginning to float again. If Qasin had had the energy, he would have tried to stab her, stop her mid-spell, but he could barely stand. “You, for the sake of a few thousand people who are no longer even Human, may have damned millions!” she angrily shouted as her body started to draw blood from the Panda King and heal her wounds.

“You . . .” Qasin found even speaking a bit difficult. “You keep saying that, but how can I trust you? I know the way you twist words.”

“Because,” she sighed, the spell now ripping the life from the five Heralds below, their screams muted by the blood that poured out of their mouths. “I trusted you. I tried to help you become something more, something greater, but you just couldn’t get past it, could you? You just couldn’t get past that ridiculous destructive nature of yours. It always has to be violence with you!”

“That’s rich.” Qasin used his sword for support as he started limping towards Eve. “You didn’t even try diplomacy with your own brother, but you accuse me of loving violence?” Each step he took was painful yet necessary as he walked towards Eve, who was hovering a foot above the ground with an odd mixture of blood and purple energy swirling about her.

“You should have trusted me!” Eve shouted back, her eyes now glowing purple with the same energy that floated around her.

“I did.” Qasin took another labored breath. “You just didn’t know me,” he managed to get out. Then, before she could respond again, he dashed at her, plunging his blade into her stomach. “This is just who I am,” he said, pulling the blade out of her.

“That’s why I’m sorry too.” She put on a smile that was almost instantly betrayed by the welling tears in her eyes. “I can’t have you standing in my way,” she said. Qasin saw that the fresh sword wound he had given her was already healed. Suddenly, the purple energy that had been encircling her rushed into him all at once from every angle. Eve’s spell pulled and ripped at his insides, the clawing energy finally bursting forth from his chest as if it were some beastly maw which carried his still-beating heart in its teeth. The energies then gnashed the heart into so many tiny pieces that it appeared to be nothing more than orbs of blood hovering in the air, which Eve drank up as Qasin watched in silent horror.

In that brief moment, between the terror of knowing he was dead and the abject horror of watching his heart being torn into a thousand pieces and greedily sucked up by Eve, he had torn emotions as to which was worse. Was it that he was going to die, or was it that his death was worthless? She had somehow shrugged off the wounds he had inflicted, and he was certain she would be able to go into the battle unscathed, destroying every Human there.

But then, as his body fell limp to the floor, so did hers. She was healed, but whatever she had done had taken its toll. That fact meant that the people he had died to protect were safe for now. Knowing that his death meant something for Humanity drew a smile across his lips as he lay on the ground powerless but at peace, unable to even tighten his fingers around the hilt of the sword that still lay in his hand. As he died, with all the burden of Kingdoms and conquests behind him, his last thoughts were on the woman with whom his fate had been so tightly bound. She really is beautiful, he thought, still smiling as his vision finally went dark.

Darwin:

“Push! Thrust! Back! Push! Thrust! Back!” Alex called out to the troops below, the day-old phalanx that now operated like a well-oiled machine.

He had less than a day, and he made them like this? Darwin admired his new force from atop the wall on their side, holding a bow and ready to shoot the retreat signal for the men in the main battlefield if need be. The precision with which the phalanx moved and the unison in which they acted reminded him of perfectly-organized fire ants. It was astounding to see such progress with weapons they had never wielded and in a formation they had never heard of until less than a day ago. Alex is a truly terrifying and fierce force. I’m glad to have him as an ally. Darwin nodded to himself.

Everything was going as planned. His year of reading about the details of the Battle of Thermopylae after watching a graphic-novel-turned-movie on the subject had paid off in spades. Even the detail of raising the platform they were on by just a step and pushing the enemy force back before letting them ebb forward again to maintain that upwards advantage was a success. It was forcing the foe to either climb up, and have no-one at their backs to support them, or push forward into a wall of shields that pressed into them from above and drove them back. Anyone attacking into the position was either immediately killed by the dory spear or forced to fight to maintain their footing as they tripped and stumbled around before eventually being forced to their knees where they would be trampled by their allies. Leonidas couldn’t have asked for better conditions. Now I just have to make sure there isn’t a traitor to betray me with a hidden route to our flank, he chuckled, finding humor in the moment despite the tough battle waging below.

Before the battle, he had tried to give a rousing speech to try and tell the men that here is where they would make their stand, that the force of the enemies was nothing more than the heavy weight of the anvil on which they would strike and break their chains. But the speech had turned out rather poorly. No one could hear him that well from where he sat atop the wall, so it just ended up being an odd shouting match with him trying to make himself heard over the oncoming army and his red-eyed warriors interpreting that as an invitation to shout too and then add some shield slamming as everyone just cheered randomly.

“Cheer up,” Daniel had said from beside him during the speech. “It’s not like we worked more than a few hours on that thing.”

Now that the battle was underway, Daniel, who had flown to the other wall with a bow as well, was in the same boat as Darwin. They were to only fire regular arrows into the enemy force. Then, whenever Darwin shot a flaming arrow into the air to signal orders to the archers behind the wall he was standing on, Daniel was to also relay the signal to the archers inside the wall on his side. It was a rather crude system, but given how ineffective even shouting had been earlier, he was glad that Daniel had talked him into using visual cues for the battle.

“Lord Darwin,” Justin Yoo came up to deliver a message. “The front five lines are starting to weaken. We haven’t taken many casualties, but it’s been an hour now, and they’re getting tired. If we don’t go through with the plan soon, General Alex is afraid that they’ll start making mistakes. He estimates that one error might cost ten lives, and he’s afraid he’ll see two or three mistakes if we don’t relieve them and switch the lines up.”

“He’s right. It’s not that they’re tired. It’s just mentally draining to be trying so hard for so long,” Darwin said with a nod. “Alright. We spent a lot of time preparing it. Ready to see if it works?”

“Yes, Lord Darwin!” Justin almost jumped out of his socks with enthusiasm. “Let me take over for you here. Everyone on their side was still hopeful, but it was easy to tell that the whole defense could be shattered in an instant soon. They were only succeeding because everything was still going as planned. The second the battle deviated from their neatly laid out plan, Darwin knew what would happen. If the shieldwall showed a single crack, then it wouldn’t be ten or twelve that would die. It would be everyone. The reason the shieldwall was getting tired after such a short time, in terms of a normal battle at least, was because of how massive and oppressive the enemy forces were. If they got through the wall, they’d leak into the two courtyards and butcher the archers. Then it would be a race to the finish line. A deadly race to determine if Stephanie would finish in time to save them all like she had before.

“Great! Let’s do it!” Darwin shot a flaming arrow, signaling to Alex and Daniel what was about to come. Daniel, who passed his bow off to a guard on his side and flew over to where Darwin was at, started grabbing a bunch of flasks that they had tucked away and gave them to Darwin. One at a time, Darwin took the flasks and threw them to the ground below, his range varying from five to ten feet in front of the shieldwall to where the walls first started pulling inwards. The enemies paid the flasks little heed, shrugging them off as they shattered and coated them with the foul smelling liquid that they held inside.

“You really come up with weird ideas, don’t you?” Daniel asked as he kept handing the flasks to Darwin. “I mean, this is the new tech in old fantasy world thing, so aren’t we supposed to draw giant rings of fire and split the enemy forces? Play some cliché tricks like that?”

“I think Kitchens already did that with a big semicircle to keep his back safe. He insisted on taking the Hydra to the middle of the battlefield too.”

“Yeah, I remember. Almost wanted to go with them and see the parachuting black bear wearing a top hat and a monocle,” Daniel laughed. “I heard Minx thought it was so cute on Fuzzy Wuzzy that she even tried to stitch a top hat for every single head on the Hydra. Might have done it too if not for the fact the animal cracker brigade showed up early.”

“I feel like if she’s going to indulge herself in the crafting lifestyle, she should consider making some slippers for everyone.” Darwin looked at his feet, hoping that he hadn’t accidently spilled any of the oil on them. “Even I could use a new pair.”

“Hmm, I always liked moccasins better than slippers,” Daniel thought aloud. “Anyways, watch your flap. You need to get down there. That’s plenty. The area is good and covered.”

Darwin nodded then jumped the entire distance to the ground behind the phalanx. He might have been eager to get back to the real world so people would stop trying to kill him, but being in the game world had huge advantages--especially when it came to his ability to run and jump. He had gone from a sit-around gamer to a professional parkour-level runner with just a few level-ups increasing his Speed attribute.

“Ready, Lord Darwin?” Alex asked as he approached from out of nowhere as usual.

“Wouldn’t be here if I weren’t,” Darwin said while equipping his flamberge.

“I know you say it’s for the best, but I still highly recommend against this course of action. The skill, the position, everything about it is too risky. We aren’t in danger of losing the field anytime soon, Lord Darwin, we just need to swap out our front lines--a feat I have done in many battles before.”

“With formations like this one?” Darwin questioned. Pulling men back from a loose formation with space on the sides of each person was different than pulling them out of a phalanx.

“No, Lord Darwin.” Alex gave a lopsided frown.

“Do you have any better ideas for how to do it then? They’re shoulder to shoulder with ten guys pushing on their back,” Darwin said as he looked at the situation. Even he was a bit nervous and sometimes worried about dying, but with enough souls to revive him and an army at his back, it was worth the risk.

“No, I have no alternative suggestions, Lord Darwin.” Alex’s frown worsened. “Be careful, Lord Darwin. We need you back here.”

“As you command,” Darwin joked, though he was the only one who found it funny. And then he quickly jumped up and started the plan.

He pulled out his flamberge zweihander and lept on the shields of the men protecting themselves from arrows and ran across the top of the phalanx. It was a bit of a chore making sure he didn’t get hit by a loose dory or shift all of his weight onto one innocent, unsuspecting soldier, but eventually he made it to the end. When he finally got there, he used the rest of his momentum to jump in the air and slammed the flaming blade into the ground as he landed. It instantly erupted, triggering the oil that he had just been throwing all across the field and setting off an explosion that shook even the walls as it massacred the almost five hundred Animal Kingdom soldiers that were in the split. The sword had hit a special trail of oil that had been laid down before the battle had begun. As this makeshift fuse of sorts had ignited, it had burned his legs a bit; but, for the most part, Darwin was unhurt by the blast, a sentiment that could not be shared by the hundreds caught in the roaring fireball a little over ten feet in front of him. Surrounding Darwin, there were still a number of enemies untouched for the most part by the blast that occurred almost a dozen feet behind them them. However, the Hell that had erupted at their backs had the disoriented the animals, and the phalanx quickly moved forward and mercilessly slaughtered the remaining enemies, pushing them away from Darwin until he was able to pull his blade out of the ground.

Then it happened. As the flames died down, all of the enemies that had been toasted by the explosion started to pick themselves up, howling in a beastly fashion as they did so. Each one then shook himself off as if he never had oil burning across his body to begin with, grabbed his weapon, and stood still, waiting. Upon receiving the order from Darwin telepathically to turn and butcher their erstwhile allies, they obligingly did just that. Their former allies, who had never seen Darwin’s unique ability in action, thought that their comrades had just managed to somehow live through the explosion. Those who seemed to have survived weren’t paying any attention to the fires scattered around them, but it didn’t seem weird to the Panda King’s men for adrenaline to block out their wounded comrades’ pain during a fight. That’s why the unconverted animal soldiers weren’t expecting those who had just picked themselves up off the burning field to turn around and start slicing and stabbing at them. The conversion took an entire line of the animal men by surprise, leaving them gutted before they even had a chance to defend themselves.

Darwin smiled as he watched it all in action. The plan, a rather simple concept that Valerie had come up with, was paying off way better than he had anticipated. After explaining how the ability worked to Valerie, who had persistently asked him over and over again before the fight, she noted that there was an issue of ambiguity--one that might be exploited. If the game said that every time he was personally responsible for killing an NPC, he had the ability to resurrect that particular NPC entity, then there was only one thing that was slightly unclear: what counts as being responsible for killing someone? When they tested killing enemies with oil, he found that he was able to resurrect all of them so long as he both set the oil and triggered the explosion. The best part about it was that the fire that was burning them would be extinguished by the conversion process, so he just had to make sure to get the oil mostly on the enemy rather than on the ground, something tossing flasks on tightly bunched foes easily allowed.

“That’s terrifying,” one of the soldiers from the phalanx said as they lowered their shields for a minute. “Are they the same as us now?”

“I . . .” Darwin was about to say that he didn’t think so, that the zombies had no brains or personality, as was his experience with Turtle-Wolves, but then he remembered Fuzzy Wuzzy. “I actually don’t know. Either way, we’ve bought ourselves some time.”

“Right, right,” the shield man said. “We better get moving, or Alex will kill us before the enemies are back to even try.”

As the phalanx swapped its front and back lines out, Darwin couldn’t help but watch the newly summoned beast men fighting at the front, holding off the enemy in the push. It pulled to him. The clean, neat and tidy way of phalanx fighting had made him want to enter the battle a little, but the messy massacre that was occurring now drew him in an entirely different way. That’s where you belong, a voice rang through his head like it had whispered in his ear. That’s where you should be right now. You haven’t even given your flamberge a proper test run. Don’t you owe it to yourself to try it out? Go on. They’re still switching positions. They’ll need extra time, right? It kept calling out to him.

“Lord Darwin, we’ve almost finished the swap. Do you want to head back now?” one of the soldiers asked, the troops were making somewhat of an effort to leave a hole for him so he could go back to his position. So he could go back to waiting . . . “Lord Darwin!” the soldier called out again as Darwin gave up on the idea and started charging into the lines with his new miniature army.

Every kill is a new soldier, Darwin told himself. Every kill is one less man that has a chance to kill my people, he justified, pulling out his flamberge and pushing his way through the line of soldiers into the enemy ranks. He knew they were not entirely sound justifications, that his men at the gap could easily handle the enemy and likely wouldn’t take many losses if any at all, but the lack of solid excuses didn’t bother him. He had waited so patiently. He needed to fight. This wasn’t just a siege. It was the ultimate battle in the ultimate game. The crème de la crème of fights, and he couldn’t just stand idly by and watch it happen around him. He needed to feel the thrill of the kill.

“I’m with you, Boss,” Daniel called from above, flying over him, “Let’s make the break count!”

Darwin smiled a bit. Daniel was the only one who had volunteered to wait in the back with him and fire signal arrows. Seeing Daniel join in too, knowing that he understood, was a comforting feeling. “First one to a hundred kills wins!” Darwin laughed, leaping through the final enemies into a downward thrust that split his first opponent in two.

“That’s cheating! You had a head start on me!” Daniel joined in with a chuckle, driving his twin daggers into a poor dog-man’s skull.

Darwin cleaved through three enemies with the flaming zweihander, each of them pulling and piecing back together until they were freshly-made, red-eyed undead, a process that wasn’t finished until he had already split, maimed and fatally wounded several more. Now he had the advantage. He wasn’t just killing the enemy; he was turning their numbers against them. With the weapons, gear, and items that he wore with bonus levels and stats for members in his faction, the dead he raised were significantly stronger than they had been before. That, added to the fact that he was increasing the number of red-eyed warriors by the second, made him question if the phalanx would even be needed anymore.

“Daniel,” he asked as he sidestepped an incoming axe, ducked under another sword, and brought his own blade up diagonally with the most force he could muster to split the two attackers in half. The enemy didn’t let him catch his breath enough to finish his thought though. As soon as those two were dead, he found himself having to push off an enemy that was thrown into him and then stab it before it could turn around and attack him. “Daniel,” he tried again, the three fresh summons providing him enough space to pause long enough to get his thought out. “How are the troops in the center holding?”

“Well . . .” Daniel started, but paused as attacked a few more enemies. Daniel looked less like he was fighting and more like he was playing the part of a yo-yo to some invisible hand in the sky as he landed on his foes then immediately took back to the skies. He didn’t even bother trying to carve up the animal warriors with his daggers once they had fallen like he had with the Blue-Drakes. This time, he knew his strong suit, and he stuck to it. It wasn’t as fast--getting in the air took time--but it was a lot safer and easier to repeat. Taking a quick break from stabbing people, Daniel continued, “I can’t see too well, but between the circling Blue-Drakes and the giant half circle of fire in the middle of the field, I don’t think we will have to fight much longer. This is going to go down in--” he paused as he thumped into another Panthera before lifting off again, “--history as the most one-sided fight to date. It’s like the enemy didn’t prepare at all.”

It didn’t make sense to Darwin. If it was so one-sided, if they were pulling it off so well, how come there hadn’t been a horn for retreat sounded? Why weren’t their commanders pulling back and preparing for a new wave, one where they could levy siege equipment and crush his encampment? He tried to puzzle it out as his flamberge crashed into the shield of a foe, giving the soldier a moment to dig into Darwin’s left arm with the makeshift axe he was holding. Darwin shrugged off the pain, kicked the Ursine holding the shield to generate enough force to pull his blade out, and thrust it into the center of the bear’s chest, cutting right into the bear-man’s lung.

Before he could even pull his flamberge free, another enemy had taken advantage of his occupied weapon and come cutting down at him with a halberd that dug right into Darwin’s left leg, nearly splitting it open.

“Darwin!” Daniel, who heard Darwin’s scream as the halberd ripped flesh from bone, shouted, “Let’s get out of here!”

“No!” Darwin ignored the suggestion. No, he thought as he grabbed the halberd, yanking the tiger-man who held it closer, where he had a headbutt waiting for him. He finally got his flamberge free and used it to decapitate his stunned adversary. This is where I belong. He smiled. The pain was growing. Each grunt turned into a howl as the wound in his arm stung. His leg tormented him with each step or attempt to put weight on it. This is what I want, his thoughts continued to echo. This is what you want.

“Darwin, this is madness! You’re going to die. Get out of there!” Daniel pleaded again, flying down to stab an enemy next to Darwin. “The phalanx works. Your plan works. Let’s get back to where we were atop the wall and let it work.”

The Phalanx did work, but I didn’t. I was useless, Darwin grumbled to himself as he spun forward, landing a cleaving attack that split two more Ursines right down the middle but left his blade wedged into the ground. It was another moment that the enemy seized instantly, impaling his stomach with the pointed end of a halberd from a distance.

“Darwin . . .” Daniel, who had taken to the skies again, watched Darwin dying with an almost empty expression. “Darwin, you really need to get out of here. I can try to carry you,” he tried one last time.

Yes, I need to get out of here, Darwin thought, looking at the wound, watching his health bleed out into the field. He had killed his fair share. Twenty, thirty, forty--it didn’t matter. He had done his fair share and killed the numbers he needed to. It was time to leave. Not yet, you still need more, a voice whispered at him. It tugged in his heart every time the notion of leaving entered his mind. The halberd pressed deeper into his gut, barely missing his spine as Darwin lifted his zweihander up for one more massive cleaving attack. If the foolish mutt-boy had let go of the weapon, he’d have lived. If he hadn’t been so sure that Darwin’s death would stop him from retaliating, that a man wouldn’t press on regardless of the pole sticking out of him, he’d have managed to survive--but he didn’t. The scorching edge of Darwin’s flamberge ripped the enemy open beautifully, cauterizing just as quickly as it cut through his killer.

Freshly avenged, he didn’t have the strength to keep going. “Darwin, come on,” Daniel said as he looked at him. It was a game. Why is he so worried? Darwin wondered as he fell to the ground and the world started to darken around him.

Darwin’s nervous system, which the game had somehow managed to keep intact, was doing it’s best to prove to him over and over again that he was in unbearable agony. His eyes testified to the same as he watched his own blood trickle away onto the field. However, something inside him disagreed with his senses and made him smile as he watched the last of his life fade. Something said, This is fine. This is the price you pay for what you need to do.

“Valerie! Mclean!” Daniel was yelling, calling his two White-Wing friends over to where Darwin lay. “He’s not fading away! We might still be able to save him. Go get the Blue-Drakes before he . . .” And then they went quiet.

Soul Devourer has been activated and consumed your 64 soul charges. You have been restored to full life and will have a +50% increase on all stat values for 320 seconds after the resurrection process is complete.

Due to having no soul charges remaining, you will awaken with Hunger active.

This effect may not occur more than once an hour

“What in the--” Darwin heard Mclean say as his vision pulsed the now familiar dark crimson color. The wounds that had left him on the ground in the first place ripped, spasmed and throbbed with the same aching pang of agony that his last death had brought. He felt the halberd, still lodged in him, being pushed out and his wound closing. He felt his head rip and his hands burn again.

When the pain faded, everything felt as if it were standing still. So the resurrection is finished . . . Time to have fun. He laughed as he picked up his burning blade.

“Darwin, you need to get back. You’ve already died once,” Daniel advised again. Nagging. Doesn’t he understand? Darwin grumbled to himself as he pulled the zweihander in a circular arc through another enemy, spinning as if he were creating a fiery whirlwind with his blade while he ripped and tore through the crowd. Why would I stop now? Darwin couldn’t stop laughing as the blade cleaved into two or three more enemies. Before, a shield would have stopped it. Now, it cut through them like butter. The Soul Devourer buff was giving him Strength and Speed stats that left him unrivaled on the field.

“Daniel, what do we do?” Valerie asked. “He’s . . . He’s lost it, I think.”

“We need to get him out of here. He may be doing well now, but it’s only a matter of time before we find him laying out flat on the ground again,” Daniel said to the other two. “He’s not fighting carefully. He’s taking too many risks. He’s practically trading blows for speed.”

“Daniel, the center column is about to fall. If we’re going to get him out, we need to now. Once that group of fighters goes down or retreats, there will be another surge of enemies,” Mclean said as he pointed to the middle of the field. “I was just there a bit ago. We’re dealing with minutes until it collapses, not hours.”

“Alright, I got an idea,” Daniel said, quietly whispering his plan to the others in the middle of the death-drenched field.

Darwin heard it all though. He knew what they were planning. He just couldn’t stop the onslaught. It felt too good as his blade carved and cut through the enemies, resurrecting his horde as he went. As he was rushing, slicing and cleaving, he felt two pairs of feet collapse into his back, grounding him in the middle of a swing. Before he could even get up or turn over, the feet were replaced by hands, and he felt himself floating off.

“I’m sorry, Darwin,” Daniel whispered in his ear as he carried him. “I can’t let you die. I know your secret. I heard you tell Kass.”

Darwin struggled at first, pulling on each arm fruitlessly as they carried him back to the wall, but after a moment he gave up. Since the buff had worn off, he just couldn’t muster the strength to rip himself free. He just stared at the battlefield and frowned as reason slowly seeped back into his head. He had always understood that he should pull back, that the phalanx had done exactly what it was supposed to, and the people were safe. It was just the urge, the voice that even now whispered: Find a way back into the fray. It was a voice that he found easier to silence the further he got away from the battle. That’s not my home, he told it. My home isn’t here. It’s back at the apartment with a stack of over-caffeinated beverages and hours of uninterrupted game time before I have to go to work in the morning.

“Darwin, are you okay? What’s wrong with you?” Mclean asked. She was on the other side of Daniel. “If you’re not alive for the victory speech, it’ll be kind of odd, and we’ll definitely get less in-game alcohol credits.”

“Don’t worry,” Daniel continued to whisper. “I won’t tell her.”

“Thanks,” Darwin said to both of them. “I don’t know what happened either.”

That was mostly false. He knew what happened, but he just didn’t know why it happened when he wasn’t out of souls. From the time it first took over in the arena to just now, the feeling, the red rush and the sensation that came with it--it was always the same. It was just the way Hunger made him feel and made him want to act.

“Well, one way or another, let’s get you back.” Daniel started laughing. “I wonder if Alex will give me a reward for saving you from stupidity? I bet, given him, I might be able to earn a badge for my bathrobe. Like a ‘Saving Dumb Darwin’ preparedness badge.”

“How about a ‘Learn to Not Hit My Wing While We’re Trying to Fly” preparedness badge?” Mclean shot back at him, but couldn’t stop a smile and a laugh from breaking through.

“Mclean, touching two guys at once, this must be a . . .” Daniel started, then stopped and just smiled. “I mean, thank you for helping out, Mclean.”

“What? Not going to finish that thought?” Mclean laughed. “Well, that’s good. For a minute I was worried I would have to kill you both if you kept going with that sentence. Would defeat the whole point of this rescue operation.”

Darwin still felt too embarrassed about having to be airlifted from the battle to join in with their banter. This is definitely not how I wanted to spend the glorious battle, Darwin frowned, being carried away like a disobedient child from a playground.

“Welp,” Daniel said as they landed back at the platform Darwin had started on, right next to Justin, who was still holding the bow Darwin had given him earlier in the trade off, “let’s try not to get in anymore trouble, okay?”

“Fine,” Darwin said, fully aware he had a bit of a pouty face. This was too shameful, and there was really no way for him to get back his dignity. He had gone from being the commander who led his troops to victory in a glorious fashion to the guy who had to be carried off the field before he died, a second time, from doing something stupid. He would have been mad at Daniel for pulling him out, but, in the end, he was more grateful than upset. If his nature had kept running rampant, the buff would have faded, and he would have been left in the same place he had been airlifted from: on the ground bleeding out. These weren’t easy enemies to fight, and the Zombie skill took more than a second to activate, which meant he had to go into each separate skirmish alone before his fresh kills would be there to back him up. So, while he was upset from the humiliating evac, he was also happy that Daniel, Mclean and Valerie had gotten him out of there before embarrassment became the least of his worries.

But that wasn’t the only issue either, he realized as he watched the fight. He hadn’t been able to stop. He hadn’t been able to put down his blade. They had to force him. This time he was fighting enemies. This time he was killing the bad guys and saving his friends, but next time? What would happen when that thirst took over and he was left holding a zweihander, racked with the effects of Hunger, and only allies in sight? Would he be able to stop himself from killing a friend, a faction member? Would he be able to even stop himself from killing an innocent civilian?

“I really do love it, Daniel,” Darwin said to his comrade, picking up on the conversation they had the night before. “I really do love killing. It really is hard to stop doing it.”

“I know, buddy,” Daniel patted him on the back, “I really do. Sometimes it’s all you think about when you close your eyes at night, but you have to come back to Earth. You can’t let the bloodlust get the best of you. You need to stay in control of it.”

Darwin stayed up on the wall and watched the fight to its end. Between the archers, the Blue-Drakes and the newly resurrected Zombies, the phalanx remained for the most part unused as the enemies all slowly died or cleared the field in fear.

“I think that’s a wrap,” Daniel commented as he watched the last enemies retreat. “Not sure how this all goes, but I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to give a rousing speech of some sort now.”

“Yeah, I should.” Darwin looked down at Alex, who was patting all the soldiers from the phalanx on the back. Or I should be doing what he’s doing instead of sitting up here away from the fight. “Either way, we won. I think that’s enough.” But as he crawled down from his perch, Kitchens came riding in on a Blue-Drake that was holding an injured Fuzzy Wuzzy.

“Kitchens, how did the fight in the center go?” Darwin asked as he saw the samurai’s mount gently lay Fuzzy Wuzzy down before landing so he could dismount himself. “Did everyone make it out okay other than Fuzzy Wuzzy?”

“Actually, Fuzzy Wuzzy and the Hydra are the only two that remain. The Hydra took a beating, but it seemed to regenerate faster than it was hurt. I don’t know if mobs level up, but if they do, that might explain the thing’s constant hit point bumps mid-fight.” Kitchens looked at Fuzzy Wuzzy. For the most part, there wasn’t a scratch on Kitchens. If he had fought to the grueling death with fifty foes or had had a gentlemanly one-bullet duel with someone after a cup of tea, only his bloodied clothes told the difference.

“Where’s Minx?” Darwin asked, knowing immediately upon seeing Kitchens’ reaction that it wasn’t the right question to ask at all.

“She didn’t make it. She died protecting this little guy,” Kitchens said as he patted Fuzzy Wuzzy, who, Darwin just realized, still had his top hat on.

“And . . .” Darwin knew already. The answer had been stated. He just needed to hear it one more time for clarification.

“The rest are dead too, Darwin,” Kitchens said coldly. “Minx will be back here after she respawns. Her bind point is still in the Panda King’s town, but I don’t think anyone will stop her on her way out.”

She’ll be the only one back after the respawns, Darwin thought and sighed. It was a heavy thing to think about. On his end, it had been a one-sided slaughter. They had almost managed to defeat all the invaders with no casualties. On Kitchens’ side, every Turtle-Wolf and the few soldiers from the bandits who had gone there were all dead. As he mulled over the ramifications of what that meant, he noticed that people were starting to congregate around him. While talking to Kitchens about the semicircle strategy, he had found one formed around him. Space was given, and the people slowly hushed themselves from a talk, to a whisper, to dead silence.

“Great Lord Darwin,” Alex came out of the ranks of onlookers, bowed his head, then stood at attention. “Your wisdom and strategic brilliance has crushed yet another oppressive army out to destroy us.”

“Yeah, right,” Louie said from the crowd of archers that started to pour out towards Darwin from behind the pike walls. “It’s like boss man Alex said. You did it. We actually stopped him. We stopped the Panda King flat in his tracks. Just us. No massive army and no great magical weapons. Just us and your wits.”

As the crowd nodded, Darwin felt slightly bolstered. He almost forgot about his rather unsightly exit from the field earlier. “I think the best word you had there was we,” Darwin answered Louie. Just like when he had first started the StormGuard Alliance, he found himself speaking before the words even registered in his own head. “It wasn’t me holding the shields. It was you all. It wasn’t me pulling the strings on the bows. It was you all. I came up with one idea, but that was it. The only thing in this battle that separated me from another leader was my ability to listen. When you told me your strengths, I heard it. When you told me your fears, I held them to my heart. When you told me your plans, I pulled them all together to make one idea. I did nothing more than let you all do what you always could: win with your own hands and your own strength.”

They all picked up, cheering, patting themselves on the back and feeling good. Many denied Darwin’s claim, but all were in good spirits. Darwin, looking around and seeing the joy, was about to share in it himself until he saw Kitchens. That’s right. This battle wasn’t free. “Wait,” he interrupted them. “Is this the first time for many of you that you have felt safe in a long time?” A resounding agreement came from the bandits who had joined the cause. “Is this the first time you will go to bed at night with a full belly, knowing that you won’t have to worry about dying in the middle of the night to a raid or an attack?” Even some of the people from Valcrest shouted ‘yes’ at this point. “Is this the first time that, instead of worrying about today, we can set forth, as a nation, and prepare for tomorrow? Lay down the foundation for days to come and focus on the future years away?” No one was without a jubilant shout of agreement. “Then I want you to do something for me. I want you to find out the names of the people who died on the battlefield. I want you to take their names, write them on a stone, and hand them out until at least one member of every family has a stone. Then thank them every night that you go to bed safe and sound. If you die of old age, happy in your home, then give your children that name, and tell them that the man whose name was written upon that rock is the reason that they have their freedom.”

Everyone stared in silence, unmoving and quiet as Darwin finished his request. Then, after a long pause, Reginald finally broke the silence. “Steve was out there,” he gulped between the words. “I know his sister will want his stone, but I’d like to keep it if it’s okay.”

“Well, I don’t think there would be an issue with two stones made for one person . . .” Darwin didn’t know if he was supposed to handle those types of requests, but he knew it was the right direction. There hadn’t been a single protest at the idea, but the solemn mood after he made the request was almost depressing even him. “Alright, we can do this tomorrow. Tonight, let’s go eat some Blue-Drake meat cooked in their own fires, play some songs, and have a great time!” The cheering returned, half-hearted, but it returned. Then, as soon as the cheering returned, everyone broke off into small groups, hugging, laughing and generally celebrating in a way that Darwin associated almost exclusively with cliché movie endings.

Kass:

Kass sat in her half-back, black chair in front of the giant, marble-topped desk trying to stay still as random people came up and hit her face with God only knows what makeup. They had finished a moment earlier, but some of the powder had gone up Kass’s nose, and she ended up letting out a sneeze that blew the rest of it all over her and her dress. At this point, the team was now scrambling to make sure that whatever was messed up was covered and evened out with a new powder and that her dress was properly brushed off.

“It really is the first time that has happened,” Ryan, the anchor for the news show she was about to be on, said. Kass almost crinkled her forehead, a thing that might have gotten her attacked by the now-aggravated makeup team. She was lost as to whether or not he was trying to apologize or simply just reporting the facts as he had been trained to do.

“I guess I’m just special,” Kass remarked as the crew continued to brush loose powder off of her.

“That is why you are here, is it not? You magically managed to do something no one else did, or got close to someone no one else could,” Ryan said in a dry, sarcastic tone. As if her being there was offensive to him. Like she shouldn’t even be on the show.

Maybe I shouldn’t be. Maybe Dad was right, she second guessed herself momentarily. It wasn’t often that she liked to admit her dad was right after a fight, but this time she had the sinking feeling that she had just been stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. Does doing everything he can to get me a job and help me out in life really make him a bad guy? she wondered. Should I really have been that mean to him? The thoughts vanished though when she remembered how aggressively he had gone after Darwin. He has no right. “I guess you could say that,” she finally answered, shrugging off Ryan’s indifference. “I like to think it’s cause I ended up in a good guild, nothing more.” She tried to underplay the importance of her role in the fight that brought her enough attention to get her on the show.

“Thirty seconds,” the producer notified Ryan and Kass through the handy ear buds that she had been given to them before they sat down.

“Do you know the basics of how this will work?” Ryan asked, still not even bothering to look at Kass as he spoke. He just kept staring at the camera, as if it were the only thing in the room worth noting.

“I have a general idea. Kerrigan prepped me some when I came in.” Kass fought the urge to slap him. She didn’t know why, but every word out of his smug little mouth made her want to pummel him even more. I wonder if reporters get this annoyed with this type of news anchor too.

“Good. Just to make sure,” Ryan responded, condescension leaching out of him as he walked her through the process even after she told him she knew it. “We’re going to start with some questions. We’ve prepared media content, which we’ll use during the questions. If you don’t feel comfortable answering something, just let us know. We’re not here to make this aggressive. We just want the truth. If you have any prepared notes or materials, make sure to have them memorized before the segment starts. Understand?”

I had it the first time, jerk. “Yeah, I got it,” she did her best not to let her anger show.

“We’re live in 5, 4--” the producer spoke again through her ear bud as the makeup crew scrambled off the set, and then a cameraman counted off the remaining three seconds with his fingers for them.

“Just now crawling out of bed at one in the afternoon? Sucking down your first Red Bull for the day and getting ready for some serious gamer updates? Welcome to G.O.R.N’s midday update. I’m Ryan, and this enchanting lady next to me is our special guest of the day, Kass,” Ryan began, his tone and mannerisms instantly changing into that of an affable, nice guy you might want to have a drink with at the bar. It was creepy how fast he transitioned.

Can you be more of a caricature? Kass wanted to say, but bit her tongue. Instead, she just returned his fake smile and answered, “Pleasure to be here, Ryan. Thank you again for having me on.”

“Glad to have you. Now, for astute detail-oriented gamers out there who have been watching the clips from earlier, you may already recognize Kass and know why we have her on our daytime talk segment. That’s because this young lady is the same lady that was riding the Hydra during the famous White-Wing beach battle that has been on everyone’s tongue. Oh, and by the way, I have to ask, how was the footing? Were the scales slimy or slippery from the water?”

“It was actually really easy to stand on. The texture of the Hydra’s exterior gave me more grip than soccer cleats usually do.” Kass kept her smile, but she was already starting to mentally brace herself. Something told her that this was going to go from a nice and friendly interview to something ugly really quick. Dad was right. I shouldn’t be here, her instincts started to scream.

“Now, for players who might not know this, that Hydra she was riding was an altered version of the Hydra that players have to defeat if they want to use the shortcut from the Human to the White-Horn lands,” he said, straight to the camera before turning to Kass. “So, tell me, how is it that you managed to get your hands on one and use it as a mount?”

“Well, actually, I didn’t exactly do that. It was the guild leader who--“

“Right, the guild leader,” Ryan interrupted her. “This is, of course, the guild leader of the newly registered faction, StormGuard Alliance, right?”

“Yes, we’ve only been around--”

“And do you have any confirmation of whether or not this is an offshoot of the one from Emerald Gardens? Was this guild made by an existing member of the massively popular online role playing game, Emerald Gardens, or is it a copycat?” He pressed her, never letting her really complete a thought.

“The guild leader is actually from that guild. He said that he was a high up member in the--” Kass tried her best to answer, but it was fruitless. Ryan was only asking her questions as a way of pretending to extract information, but he already had all the answers. She was his prop, not a person he was interviewing.

“Right, the guild leader, his name is Darwin if I’m not mistaken?”

“Well . . .” Kass was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable.

“Because, as you can see, we’ve looked at the footage and been able to put together a face, here, that we believe is a very accurate representation of the character in the game. Now, other than the red eyes, this face matches up with a famous raid leader from the StormGuard Alliance in Emerald Gardens who recently was reported missing by the police,” Ryan said as he gestured to an imaginary square next to his head where a photo of Darwin would be digitally inserted.

“By the police?” Kass interrupted him for a change, getting her question in before he could continue his thoughts.

“That’s right, Kass, by the police,” he stressed the word police. “You see, around 10:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve, police investigated reports of gunshots in a relatively nice neighborhood. What they found was absolutely shocking. These here are some of the gruesome images from the crime scene. They’re censored but nevertheless graphic, and some viewers may find them quite disturbing.” He pointed to the imaginary square next to his head again, but Kass could see them on a monitor in front of her. Part of the first image was intentionally pixilated, but what was displayed was still clearly a human head, crushed in by what must have been a baseball bat or something larger so many times that the entire skull was caved in.

“What does that have to do with Darwin?” Kass stared at the pictures of the crushed face as they cycled through.

“Well, upon investigating the crime scene, police were able to identify the body as that of a serial burglar and rapist, but did not find any traces of the person who lived there. The only tenant, a man by the name of Darwin, disappeared that night while leaving his game of Emerald Gardens on. His character, Arch Lance Ser NightVale of the StormGuard Alliance, was monitored, but he never signed on from a new or existing location. That’s why police were very interested when we began our investigation of your guild.”

Kass shifted in her seat. This wasn’t a news interview--this was an interrogation with a camera rolling--but she couldn’t take her eyes off the still floating picture of the dead body. What happened? What did you do, Darwin? The question kept rolling around in her head. This can’t be you, Darwin. You wouldn’t do things like this. At first, she rebelled against the idea, but then remembered that this wasn’t the first time she had attempted to console herself with that line of thought. “No . . .” she barely whispered, still in shock.

“Actually, yes. We know that he just defended himself from a burglar in a break-in, that there aren’t any legal ramifications for his actions, but both the police and G.O.R.N. are wondering if this is the same m--” Ryan stopped suddenly and pressed his finger into the earpiece as if to make sure he was hearing everything correctly.

“What’s going on?” Kass asked, looking around as two men in very professionally-tailored black suits came popping out from behind the cameras in front of her like she was stuck in a tacky action movie or spy thriller.

“I’m sorry gamers, but we have to cut this interview short. We’ll resume air after these brief messages,” Ryan smiled to the camera, and then, when the light gave him the signal, he got up and bolted towards the producer’s box.

“What’s going on?” Kass repeated, not understanding what was happening.

“Kass, this is the producer again,” the voice that had counted down the segment said. “These men were sent by Charles. They are going to escort you to a meeting. I’m told that this is not the type of escort you should try to turn down.”

Kass, scared stiff, looked at all the men. She slowly stood up, but she had no idea what was going on. As she took out her earpiece and laid it on the counter, she found herself looking for exits, trying to find a single escape route that wasn’t blocked.

“Please rest assured, miss, no one here means you any harm,” one of the men said. “We’re merely here to bring you to meet a very important friend. Someone we’re told you are acquainted with. Charles said it was a top priority to bring you to the introduction.”

She, seeing no real alternatives, started walking with them, still looking around for a viable exit strategy, but there was none. This Charles fellow, whose name sounded incredibly familiar, was obviously more well-connected than the average person. Even the producer and the staff were apologizing to the two men as they left, saying stuff like ‘We had no idea’ and ‘We’re so sorry. We’ll cut the piece immediately.’

“It’s a long drive, miss,” one of them said to her as they exited the building. “We can pick something up for you to eat on the way if you like.”

“No, I’m okay,” she said. What she meant was: ‘this is freaking me out too much for me to be worried about food.’

Darwin:

Darwin made his way to the back of the dungeon after the celebration and festivities died down. He didn’t consciously choose to, but before he even realized where his feet were taking him, he was halfway down the stairs that Stephanie had said led to the portal room. They were a flight of spiraling stairs, and oddly for this particular dungeon, there was an actual walled room with a door at the end. He opened the door to discover Stephanie sitting in a nice, red leather computer chair and playing a Game Boy next to a giant sheet of what looked like moving obsidian, rippling up and down and even popping in some places.

“Hey, where did you get the--”

“Shh--” Stephanie cut him off before he could finish the sentence. Just from the music alone, he recognized what game it was: one of his favorite 2D, plumber-oriented platformers.

Darwin sat there, waiting a few minutes, knowing better than to bother a gamer until she was finished.

“Okay, I’m finished,” she said, turning it off and throwing it into her pocket. As she stood up, he couldn’t help but notice that her outfit had changed. She had gone from the bubbly cheerleader look to just a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. “Are you finished?”

“Huh? I wasn’t the one playing,” Darwin replied, slightly confused, but then he understood her question. “Yeah. Yeah, we finished up. It went pretty well. We lost some good men, but overall it was a resounding triumph.”

“Great! Well, the portal is all set up. All we have to do now to get home is walk through it. I actually finished a bit ago, but you guys sounded like you were having fun when I went to get you, so I just figured I’d play some games and wait,” Stephanie said cheerfully. “That was totally hard by the way . . . The waiting, I mean. Not you.”

“Well, should we do something first? Go get the others so we can all head out at once? Grab a big stockpile of Gold? Or do we just walk through? Wait, is there a ritual or some sort of fancy item we need to get through?”

“Oh, yeah!” Stephanie looked down, fumbled around her pockets for a minute as if she were looking for a key, then grabbed Darwin’s hand and yanked him with her through the portal.

It felt odd at first, like he had just submerged himself in water, but the water was more dense. In fact, if anything, it was a mix between slowly sliding into a pool of water and running into a sheet of cold tinfoil. He instinctively closed his eyes as it happened, but when he got around to opening them he knew at once it was a success. He found himself inside a room so big that to call it an airport hanger would be an understatement. The room was large enough to house every dungeon and town he had been to and then have room for more. It was empty and bare with what appeared to be metal plate sides that one might expect on an airport hanger and an overly-reinforced black metal roof that was littered with white squares that seemed to provide the lighting for the room. The portal had worked. The only problem was the sinking feeling in Darwin’s stomach that he had gone from out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Inside the nearly-empty room was a series of tables adorned with white tablecloths and silver trays containing a rather diverse offering of different kinds delicious foods from cheesecakes and steaks to cereals and omelettes. The edibles were all lined out around one medium-sized, circular mahogany table with four place settings. At the head, sitting at the place facing the portal, there was a tall, blonde-haired man in a pin-striped suit drinking tea.

As he saw Darwin walk through the portal, he put down the tea, stood up, brushed off his legs and walked around the table to greet Darwin.

“My apologies,” he said, extending a hand for Darwin. “I totally forgot my manners and started without the guest of honor. My name is Charles. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll be your host for as long as you see fit.”

“I’m . . . I’m Darwin,” Darwin answered hesitantly. It wasn’t that he was nervous, which he knew he probably should be, but it was that the entire experience had left him at a loss for words. That, and the fact that he had no idea what was going on.

“Well, Darwin, I must say that given the experiences I’m sure you’ve just had, I can only imagine what you’re feeling right now, but, for the moment, would you like to sit down for a bite to eat? A cup of tea perhaps?” Charles offered, walking back to his place at the table, but waiting for his guests before sitting.

“Yes,” Darwin answered, finding himself incredibly conflicted. He wanted to seem professional in front of this obviously very powerful stranger, but on the other hand, he desperately wanted to change out the cup of tea for his favorite soda. “Yes, a cup of tea sounds great. Earl Grey, please.”

“Psh, forget you two classy farts,” Stephanie laughed, walking over to an empty chair and sitting in it with deliberate nonchalance. “Give me a few cans of the nearest soft drink, and someone fetch me something with cheese, sugar, grease or all of the above. I’ve been eating nothing but barbecued meat for what feels like forever. I demand sugar!”

Charles and Darwin both found themselves chuckling as they took their seats. “Actually, double what she’s having for me, and give the same to Darwin,” Charles said to a waiter who seemed to slip out of nowhere. “Let’s make this as casual a first meeting as possible.” Charles smiled as he held his tie to his chest and sat down. “Now, before the food gets here and our final guest arrives, there are some important things I think I need to fill you in on.”

Darwin cracked open the soda the waiter brought him as he watched the other men arranging food from the buffet onto plates for them. Then, exchanging a glance with Stephanie, he found himself wondering, Wait, I’m missing something. Why is it that everyone is looking at Stephanie, but no one is turning to stone? What have I walked into?

Reliquary

The Monster Manual:

Beetle-Bee: With one horn in the front and one horn in the back, the four-foot-long Beetle-Bee is deadly from both ends. Its favorite method of attacking is using its wings to propel it into its foe horn first and swinging its stinger into the enemy as soon as impact occurs.

Strengths: Japanese gambling games, flower collecting.

Weaknesses: Strong winds, alcohol (A drunk Beetle-Bee is more sad than deadly.).

Black Bear: Sometimes a bear is just a bear, and that’s all there is to it. With nothing but muscles, claws and an appetite greater than its cuteness, beware of the bear.

Strengths: Bear arms, salmon, napping.

Weaknesses: Honeypots, bees, overnapping.

Blue-Drakes: Contrary to popular belief, the color of the drake’s skin does not change the element it shoots out of its mouth. Instead, it just makes it harder to spot on a nice sunny day with a clear blue sky. Acting as a sort of camouflage, the blue scales help it sneak up on unsuspecting forest creatures when the drake decides it is time for a barbeque. A very handy trick to have on a Saturday afternoon.

Strengths: Doesn’t ever need a lighter, wingmen often have actual wings, can disco dance with amazing talent.

Weaknesses: The Blue-Drake will often accidently burn its own TV when watching sports due to the difficulty of controlling flames while cheering.

Bumba-Ant: This four foot tall goat horn equipped black and yellow ant is constantly struggling to stay alive in the cruel world that made it. It’s too large to sneak away with picnic food unnoticed and too big to survive on the small amount of food the queen gives out. That’s why, unlike any of the other species of ants, this particular one has given up on perfect structure and order, and formed a union: one that spans the entire species, protecting the innocent workers from the tyranny of the queens.

Strengths: Building stuff, especially sand castles.

Weakness: Magnifying glasses.

The Burglar: If you’ve ever had to pay money for locks, a security system and theft insurance, you can thank this mob. Adverse to hard work and determined to take that which is not theirs, the only thing worse than their impact on family vacations is their often awful fashion sense and insistence on wearing women’s lingerie and ski attire for masks.

Strengths: Good at acting dangerous to pick up less than intelligent mates.

Weaknesses: Dogs, police officers, angry mothers.

Deer-Frog: Old men aren’t the only ones who are horny when they croak; so are the Deer Frogs. Their creepy, giant googly-eyes are always following their prey. For those who aren’t careful, a quick tongue will latch onto its victim and pull the giant man-sized frog straight into its prey--or the other way around, depending on who is heavier--leaving its antlers firmly planted in its victim.

Strengths: Giant man-sized flies, beer commercials, tap dancing.

Weaknesses: Fire, ice.

Demon-Mole: They have all the standard red, beady-eyed attributes of a demon, but they are moles. Raised on a diet of guacaMole, aniMole crackers and Mole-assus, one has more to fear from their imMole-ating abilities than their Mole-ars, though both can ensure a disMole fate for a foe.

Strengths: Spying, sneaking behind enemy lines, making a black spot on someone’s skin.

Weaknesses: 6.02 x 10^23

Devil-Moose: The Devil-Moose actually used to be called the Angel-Moose and was renown for attempting to save everyone it could. That is of course, until it found out that it was no longer included in its nations ‘Free Health Care’ policies. The cursed governor put in a clause that made it for only Humans, driving the Angel-Moose down the road to darkness, where they have since lived. Hunting, killing, and murdering the people who took away their excellent dental plan are these guys new pastimes.

Strengths: It is great at telling jokes that are, a-moose-ing.

Weakness: Always stops for maple syrup.

Editor: Died during the making of this book from facepalming too hard while trying to clean up the book’s grammar. May or may not have been from a Hemingway-like stupor.

FlamAntis: These giant, fiery praying mantis-like creatures are constantly honing their killing ability with the precision of a martial artist. Each day they live in this world of harrowing hatred for their kind is a trial. Each day of which they reach the end, a success. Their skills in combat are only surpassed by their long lifespan, a necessary attribute for the continuation of their species. After all, it takes years of being single for a male praying mantis to accept what will happen to him right after he mates. Maybe, just maybe, if one of the grooms didn’t ask their new bride to go make him a ham sandwich, they wouldn’t all end up dead.

Strengths: Females get more than 77% of the male equivalent income for efforts.

Weaknesses: Females never successfully collect child care.

Goldfish-Butterfly-Squirrel: This creature is a clear jab at one creator’s inability to stay focused with every metaphor for losing one’s attention except a cat with a laser rolled up into one monstrously ugly and confusing creature. It’s almost hard to feel threatened. That said, the butterfly-winged flying furball with fish eyes and a fish tail is clearly not trying to threaten anyone, it’s just trying to make you laugh before you forget what it likely already has: that you’re supposed to kill it.

Strengths: Nothing.

Weakness: Shiny objects--Oh! Look at the flutterby!

Mutant Boar: Breeding experiments to produce the most flavorful slices of bacon have resulted in more violent, meaner, and deformed boars. That said, the bacon is in fact quite delicious, if it can be harvested.

Strengths: Charging, or rather, running in a straight line.

Weakness: Grills, frying pans,

OctoStench: The stink bug is by far one of nature’s cruelest jokes. Harmlessly fluttering around its entire life with no defense other than the fact that upon death it smells so rank most people are forced to hold their nose for fear of a wave of nausea overtaking them. OctoStench is what happens when that awful odor gets transformed into a spitting device, made poisonous, and thrown on top of eight legs. Just to make matters more amusing, they threw in sword arms--because sword arms.

Strengths: Saves a ton on deodorant.

Weaknesses: Saves on deodorant because even deodorant can’t cover up the awful smell.

Ogre: Mean, clunky and bigger by the level. Often thought of as a savage and barbaric creature by those who hunt them for experience or items, the Ogre actually is a very calm creature who often seeks to achieve a state of inner peace and has thus discarded most, if not all, of its material possessions and desires. Unfortunately, living in a forest surrounded by aggressive adventurers has trained the Ogre to keep a maul as a form of self-defense.

Strengths: Big. Big big. Super big.

Weaknesses: Lazy and fond of comfortable places to rest when no-one is looking.

Rhino-Beetle: These ever-horny deviants are constantly charging through the gambling arenas of Tiqpa. Caught, bred and then kept in tiny circular rooms where they wait for fights, many Tiqpa residents have complained about their inhumane treatment. Some, in a now infamous attempt, even tried to free one such imprisoned Rhino-Beetle, only to be gored and danced upon by the unchained beast as soon as the collar was removed.

Strengths: Really good at charging forward.

Weaknesses: Can’t bet on self.

Scorpatuar: Half disfigured-looking humanoid, half-horse with an added scorpion tail just for kicks, this monster is a true work of nightmares. The tail lashes out faster than a news anchor’s tongue in a lopsided interview and rarely misses. While running may be a victim’s first instinct, rest assured the horse legs are not for decoration. Praying is a better use of time.

Strengths: The Scorpataur is good at eating spicy food and tricking frogs.

Weaknesses: The Scorpataur, like most horses, is susceptible to random hangings and sugar cubes.

Turtle-Wolf: Standing on two legs like a dog that thinks he is human, the wolf inside the shell has manlike hands tapered off with claws instead of paws and a twisting, swiveling long neck that lets you know the shell isn’t the only part of the creature that is turtle. It has all the defense of a fully-armored soldier coupled with the aggression of a rabid wolf.

Strengths: Racing rabbits, chasing cars, tracking.

Weakness: Standing up if pushed on its back, fence posts.

I’m Not a Racist, but:

Human [Human]: One look in the mirror will tell you everything you need to know about this often-frumpy, weak-muscled, overlooked race. Even in the real world they lack many characteristics gamers would value on a stat sheet, but for some reason they always seem to prevail. Be wary of doubting or underestimating the tenacity of the meek and cunning.

Bonus: +1 stat point per level.

Minotaur [White-Horn]: More bull than man, these lumbering giants may have many myths and stories revolving around how they were made, most with jokes about someone’s mother looking like a cow, but that doesn’t change the fact they are a massive force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Favoring the axe and their brute power, they can cleave through most lines with little to no effort.

Bonus: +5% Movement Speed in combat, +20% Movement Speed out of combat, +5% Power, +5% Damage when wielding axes, can’t wear shoes.

Satyr [White-Horn]: Satyrs don’t kid around when it comes to magic. These half-goat men are experts at manipulating nature and traversing rough terrain. With enough of them in an army, one is sure to control the weather--just don’t expect to keep your lawn.

Bonus: +10% Casting Speed, +25% Movement Speed over rough terrain, +5% Cold Resistance.

Vampire [Black-Wing]: Arguably the suckiest race in the game, Vampires have learned to embody the true spirit of a bat man. They thrive on the night and draw the life force out of any foe within reach during combat. With their large, dark, black wings, Lifesteal, and affinity for the night, the Vampire is a terror in the skies when the sun sets.

Bonus: Flying, +5% Lifesteal on Melee Attacks, +5% Increased Damage during nighttime.

Incubus/Succubus [Black-Wing]: It’s always a common joke that a woman is a man’s worst enemy, or the other way around depending on who is saying it. And, by that logic, this race fits right in. An innate charm serves to disarm opponents of the opposite gender during combat. That said, there are far worse ways to die than in the presence of a sexy foe.

Bonus: Flying, +5% Damage against opposite gender, +5% Damage bonus with whips.

Dragon-Wing [Black-Wing]: There are few things more ferocious than a full-grown, fire-breathing, battle-worn dragon. Unfortunately, this is just a cheap knockoff version. They have a great deal of health like the dragons they take their name from and are excellent at resisting fire. Even if they aren’t actually dragons, they do make great dragon hunters.

Bonus: Flying, +10% Vitality, +25% Fire Resistance.

White-Wing [Sun God Empire]: The White-Wings are what people first wanted angels to be: humans with giant sets of wings. This race has mastered prison fighting and learned to wield the shiv with expert dexterity. Contrary to all the chicken jokes though, they do not run from fights.

Bonus: Flying, +10% Damage with daggers, -10% Damage with all other weapons, +5% Armor bonus when wearing low-weight armor.

Fire-Walker [Sun God Empire]: Love the fresh smell of napalm in the morning? Fire-Walkers sure do. They may have given up smoking cigarettes, but they’ve permanently solved the lighter issue. With feet always on fire and flames shooting out of any body part, Fire-Walkers have trouble handling normal weapons and developed their own unique crafting system to compensate.

Bonus: -50% Damage with non-glass weapons, cannot wear shoes, +10% Damage with glass. weapons, Fire Manipulation, Fire Creation, Fire Crafting.

Demon [StormGuard Alliance]: No one knows where they came from or when they arrived, but this mysterious race of red-eyed, black-haired human look-alikes is feared and respected by those who know better.

Bonus: Locked stat growth, unique abilities, unusually high stat growth

Canine [Were-Beast]: Between dodging flees, chasing carts and harassing friendly delivery men, it’s a wonder the Canines ever manage to get anything done. One might be better off just adopting them and providing them with a little kibble, belly rubs (their favorite) and a scratch behind the ears rather than trying to fight one. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie, especially when they’re engrossed in their favorite activity: sleep. Never try to discount their incredible loyalty and teamwork in battle. Where one Canine might be deadly, five are nearly unstoppable. Don’t press the pack.

Bonus: +1% to Power, Speed, Vitality for every friendly Canine, including self, in the party [Up to 8% max]; +10% Movement speed; -20% Movement Speed when near fire hydrants.

Feline [Were-Beast]: Few people know that Felines were actually a race of aliens that came to Tiqpa to enslave humanity after losing a galactic war with the laser pointer-wielding dog people. While these dogs have nothing to do with the Canines on Tiqpa, the grudge still remains. They are also often mistaken with their more feral, less civilized Panthera cousins.

Bonus: +5% to all stats when traveling alone, +5% Speed, +5% Damage with daggers, movement produces 50% less sound.

Panthera [Were-Beast]: Lions and tigers and Pantheras, oh my!  These night time thugs come with built in jump suits that are pre-striped or dotted, hunting down their prey and turning them into homicide victims before they even had a chance to notice something was amiss. While they may seem like the perfect Ninjas, very few of them ever pounce on that opportunity instead choosing to rush into battle claws first.

Bonus: +5% Power, +5% Movement Speed in combat, +15% Damage on initial hit, +20% Movement Speed out of combat, has night vision, movement produces 50% less sound.

Reptilian [Were-Beast]: Before pondering the nature of a Reptilian, know that they pondered it first. After all, they spend most of their time forming questions regarding philosophical rhetoric and contemplating the nature of the universe. These cold-blooded theorists will generally explore the mysteries of the universe alone, unheard by men or reason, over a cup of black tea served with crumpets. Unfortunately, no man has ever seen this side of them. The few Humans that have ever made it into their dwellings are usually found in the morning skewered on a freshly-planted spike in the gardens outside their homes.

Bonus: Can breathe underwater, +5% power, +5% to speed, +5% damage with all melee weapons. -25% Fire Resistance, -25% Cold Resistance.

Simian [Were-Beast]: These staff wielding pranksters tend to barrel headfirst into everything and are always up to monkey business from the day they are born--which is why Simian parents have long refused to give up the right to punish their children. After all, even though spanking the monkey sounds bad, a monkey that has never been spanked would be a nightmare for the whole town. Be careful: their uncles are everywhere and can throw a wrench into even the best laid plans.

Bonus: +10% Damage when wielding staves, +5% Speed, +25% height when jumping.

Ursine [Were-Beast]: Making a pun about ‘bear’ arms might seem harmless and amusing until one is actually faced with a pair of real bear arms. When around this race that defined the gun show in terms of muscular fortitude, jokes should be made as little as possible. Respectable, pink shirt-wearing businessmen and frat boys have been advised to not do anything fishy or jump around them.

Bonus: Hands act as a weapon equivalent to level (Damage and Strength will vary based on stats and class), +10% Power, +5% Vitality.

Those People Who Didn’t Ask for More Money on Their Contracts When Signing up for the Sequel:

Darwin: A video gaming demon who has been trapped in the world of Tiqpa, forced to level up and survive as he attempts to find his way home.

Stephanie: A fellow gamer and the boss of a dungeon, she abandoned her post to chase after and be with Darwin.

Alex: Once just a simple scout, Alex is now the lead representative for the people of Valcrest. He commands the troops of the StormGuard Alliance in Darwin’s absence.

Kass: The daughter of Robert, one of the lead designers of Tiqpa, and an avid gamer herself. She is currently trying to be the highest level Frost Mage in the game and is using Darwin to get there.

Robert: Lead programmer of Tiqpa and father of Kass. Currently investigating the bathrobe knight who has upset the balance of a game he spent years making.

Valerie: A disabled girl who uses Tiqpa to experience the sensation of being able to move all of her limbs again. She gets wrapped up in the game, even romancing an NPC shortly before he dies and she finds out that the her faction has turned against her. She escapes with her friends, Daniel and Mclean, to join Darwin in the middle of the White-Wing beach battle.

Daniel: One of the two close friends who joined Valerie when she achieved a high enough rank to assign quests for the White-Wings. He, along with Valerie and Mclean, joins the StormGuard Alliance after the White-Wing beach battle.

Mclean: One of the two close friends who joined Valerie when she achieved a high enough rank to assign quests for the White-Wings. She, along with Valerie and Daniel, joins the StormGuard Alliance in the middle of the White-Wing beach battle.

Eve: Claiming to be Darwin’s sister, this mysterious figure leads him to discover the creation stone needed to convert the people of Valcrest into Demons. Later she is seen traveling alongside Qasin, claiming that her goal is to reach and rescue her brother.

Gary: Robert’s coworker and Tiqpa design team leader. The only thing worse than his choice in clothes is his uncomfortable insistence on bad jokes and inappropriate comments.

Qasin: From soldier to King, the great warrior freed himself of his political chains and carved the three factions of Noob Island into one great empire. After he had conquered the land though, he left the island and his faction behind to accompany Eve on her quest to rescue her brother.

Pets:

Jim: This supposed ‘dog’ owned by Kerrigan may sound lovable, but be careful. The second you come over, he’ll rush. You’ll lose all your mineral far . . . wait. Nevermind. You’ll just get a bunch of that annoying hair all over your black slacks.

Fuzzy Wuzzy: Some people like dogs, some people like cats, but both Darwin and Kass seemed to have gotten attached to this future rug of an in law. Between the soft fur and the oddly unexpected sense of humor for both an NPC and an animal, this bear has grown into quite the lovable fur ball.

Inventory of Items:

Burriza’s Blade: What does a Polar Bear have to do with a sword? Who knows, but when you see how well it turned out, who cares?

Stats: 215 Damage, +10 Power

Captain’s Emblem: A symbol of power can be more than just a symbol if it carries with it the trust and hopes of those who give it meaning.

Stats: When carried, raises the level of all NPCs commanded by +5; All nearby allied players and NPCs will receive +5% to all stats.

Captain’s Ring: Often those who receive this item complain that it isn’t powerful enough. It doesn’t have enough stats. That’s because they don’t understand that its only limit is the strength of those who follow its wearer.

Stats: +10 Power, +1% increased Power and Speed for all allied party members.

Crown of the Ice Queen: Flung away by a princess in a musical number that defined the entire movie, this long lost diadem was somehow recovered and sold by a rather shady individual. Even the Ice Queen has to let her hair down sometimes, although by now I’m pretty sure she’s sorry she ever let it go.

Stats: +30 Spirit, +30 Concentration, +5% Damage to cold based spells.

Restriction: Frost Mage only.

Dragon’s Final Hymn: A dragon may die, but his flames never perish. The same is also what was said about Sir Frank Fluffabuff and his trusty zweihander. This is why, long after the knight had been eaten while holding the sword, the dragon died with the undigested blade still inside him. After the knight and the dragon had faded into oblivion, the two unyielding forces of fire and blade still stuck around--and stuck to each other.

Stats: 485 Damage, +30 Power, +20 Speed, +10% Fire Resistance, Damage is halved when dual wielding.

Dragon’s Tear: Proving that there is at least some value in making someone cry, the Dragon’s Tears sometimes harden into beautiful jewelry with magical powers. At other times, they just ruin the shoulder of someone’s shirt.

Stats: +10 Spirit, +10 Concentration.

Double-Bladed Axe: If Wrigley’s Spearmint gum has taught us anything, it’s that it’s perfectly okay to double your pleasure and double the fun, and nothing says twice as much fun as an extra blade on an axe.

Stats: 135 Damage.

Dull Iron Axe: Sometimes, you have to make do with what you have. After all, a giant axe to an enemy’s face is better than nothing, right?

Stats: 98 Damage.

Enchanted Bathrobe of Valcrest: Special times call for special measures. When armor is too heavy, clothes take too long to put on and you’re expecting company, the bathrobe is the right special measure needed. This one just comes fully decked out. Ramen not included.

Stats: +15 to Power, +15 Speed, +15 Vitality, reduces incoming Damage from all sources by 10%, +35 Damage when wielding Spoons, +10 damage versus French Onion Soup

Slippers of +10 Face Smashing: It’s tennis shoes for running, black dress shoes for fancy events, and slippers for face smashing. Never question a man in a bathrobe when his slippers are red.

Stats: +10 to comfy walking, +10 to Face Smashing, -10 to fashion.

Ring of the Ice Queen: No one is sure if they called her the Ice Queen because she was as frigid as a winter’s storm when it came to dating, or if it was because of her profound affinity for summoning a winter’s storm. Either way, one can be certain that the ring’s power is authentic and came directly from the Ice Queen herself, after all, what guy would offer her a ring? Regardless, the ring was aptly named and has served many Mages since.

Stats: +10 Vitality, +10 Spirit, +10 Concentration.

Restriction: Frost Mage only.

Ring of the Unkept Promise: Some items are just mysterious with backstories you only hear about way after they would have been helpful, never at all, or right when you’re in the middle of something important and you can’t pause. Sometimes, you just keep spamming the “skip text” button and never bother to find out. It’s like these things were added to the game by a developer who was going for the ‘shady foreshadowing with intriguing items’ effect but didn’t feel like fleshing it out.

Stats: +30 Power, +30 Speed, -10 Vitality, +5% stats to the wearer of Ring of Broken Vows when in range.

Ring of Broken Vows: This is also one of those items.

Stats: +30 power, +30 speed, -10 vitality, +5% stats to the wearer of Ring of the Unkept Promise when in range.

Ring of Power: It’s too bad an item with the name like Ring of Power isn’t better than it is.

Stats: +10 Power, +10 Speed, +10 Vitality.

Sapphire Spell Staff: Pretty when new, pretty when blue. With an intricate blue sapphire beautifully adorning a dark wooden staff, this is just as much a decorative accessory as it is a weapon.

Stats: +15 Spirit, +10 Concentration.

Staff of the Ice Queen: The Ice Queen wasn’t just about blue gems, she was also about blue staves.

Stats: +65 Spirit, +60 Concentration, + 20 Vitality.

Restriction: Frost Mage only.

Training Spoons: Because sometimes training is necessary before spooning, or else you’ll wind up without feeling in your arm, a mouth full of hair and an angry spouse.

Stats: 0 damage, +10 to judgemental looks.

Places/Things/Companies/Et Cetera:

G.O.R.N.: Gamer’s Official Review Network.

Darwin’s Cheat Book:

Blood Blade: Blood Blade is a Job Class that specializes in harnessing their life force and channeling it into offensive combat skills. A Blood Blade is given skills that sacrifice the user’s Health in order to deal single target or AoE Damage. The Blood Blade is also given the ability to harness and use blood as a weapon during combat.

Broken hearts make for smaller bites.: (Passive) It’s not always good looks that leave a heart broken in two. Sometimes it’s just a well placed blade--which is perfect because the heart is much easier to chew in small pieces. Each kill of the opposite gender heals user for 25% of max health.

Demonic Command: May recruit fatally wounded monster NPCs (may only recruit monsters of or below the user’s level. The number that can be recruited is dependent on the Rank of the user).

Dread Commander: Soul Knight faction leader bonus skill tree.

Hunger: (Passive) Hunger causes the Soul Fiend to lose 1 soul charge for every five minutes he is out of combat. If the Soul Fiend has no soul charges to be consumed, then the Soul Fiend will begin to lose hit points at a rate of 1% every hour. Magic, items and natural health regeneration can not restore hit points lost as a direct result of Hunger. Consumption of a soul charge will restore all hit points lost from Hunger. Fatal Damage received by Hunger will not trigger the activation of Soul Devourer.

Ketchup is a vegetable!: (Passive) Heal 1% life every 3 seconds blood splatter is on you during combat. If you can’t find the right nutrition for your meal, just pretend like ketchup is a vegetable. My school did.

Knock off the horns, brush off the hair, and run it through the kitchen!: (Passive) +10% to flat elemental resistance. +10% additional resistance to fire magic. Extra crispy is only good for chicken fingers, not a good slab of beef. Make sure to always order your steaks rare or don’t even bother.

Soul Collector: (Passive) Allows the user to hold up to 50 soul charges. Once upgraded, this skill allows the user to carry (Level + 10) souls.

Soul Devourer: Temporarily consume all soul charges to fully restore hit points. Grants user +50% all stats for (number of souls * 5) seconds. This skill will automatically activate upon receiving a fatal blow. May only be used once per hour. Soul Devourer is the upgraded version of Soul Eater.

Soul Eater: Temporarily consume all soul charges (a minimum of 30 soul charges required) to fully restore hit points. Grants user +25% all stats for 180 seconds. May only be used once per hour.

Soul Fiend: Soul Fiend is a Job Class that feeds off the essence of souls harvested during battle. They are granted special skills and passive abilities that buff and enhance them during combat. The more enemies that are killed by a Soul Fiend during battle, the stronger the Soul Fiend will become. A Soul Fiend also receives a boost to the skills Soul Eater and Soul Collector.

Soul Forge: May use soul charges to level NPCs (requires number of new level in soul charges; for example: To level an NPC from 29 to 30 it will require 30 soul charges). Requires physical contact or altar contact to use.

Soul Sever: (Passive) Killing enemies grants one charge. Killing enemy players grants ten charges. If an enemy player is killed, the enemy player will lose one level.

Spirit Siphoner: Spirit Siphoner is a Job Class that specializes in stealing and manipulating the enemy’s spirit. This can take the form of draining an enemy’s life or even converting an enemy before a fatal blow has been dealt. A Spirit Siphoner also receives a boost to the skills Soul Sever and Soul Collector.

Soul Knight: Darwin’s 2nd-tier Base Class.Though the name is misleading, this particular class has nothing to do with dance specialists or southern cooking.

With a Cherry on Top: Ever had an ice cream sundae without the cherry on top? Nope? Then why start now? Each kill yields one additional soul charge and a 1% damage bonus (fades after 300 seconds out of combat).

Gaming Terms:

Aggro: The proclivity of a monster or NPC to attack a player or another creature.  Often used within the phrase ‘draw aggro,’ which basically means to get a monster’s attention or force it to attack a certain target.

AOE: Area of Effect. This term refers to skills that affect multiple targets simultaneously, whether friendly or not. Typically, the particular skill being used determines the range of affected targets.

Buff: To increase or augment the abilities of another player or character in a game. When someone “buffs” another person, they’re making them better at their job.

Drive: (as in VR drive) The device used to access a virtual reality world.

EXP: Experience. Gained from killing monsters, completing quests and assisting other players. Necessary for increasing one’s level within the game.

LOS: Line of sight.  You can’t attack what you can’t see.

Nerf: A dreaded term for many avid gamers, this is the word used to describe when a game manufacturer makes a class less potent in its field.

NPC: Non-Playable Character. Characters within games that are controlled by the computer (artificial intelligence).

PK (RPK): This term can be used interchangeably as either a noun or a verb. Thanks, 1337 sp34k. As a noun, it refers to a player killer, someone who participates in actively killing other players. As a verb, it means ‘to have been killed by another player.’

RPG: Role Playing Game.  Often used as MMORPG.

VR: Virtual Reality.

MMO: Massive Multiplayer Online (game).

Boss Book:

Burriza: There is nothing more vicious and ruthless than a Polar Bear in its natural habitat, a good reason many similarly-natured companies try to associate with them. Burriza is the one exception, for while he is a powerful opponent, he prefers it be in poker and not combat. Burriza is one of the few bosses that will not tolerate sycophants, but mainly just because they make great liars and subsequently better poker players.

Strengths: Straight flush, deuces, accounting, drinking cola.

Weaknesses: Global warming.

Dark Hydra: No-one can ever be certain how many heads a Hydra starts with, but they can be sure of how many are left when the Hydra eats them. In this case, the last victim of the Dark Hydra tried to fight off seven heads that independently chomped, bit and breathed their way to victory. Poor soul.

Strengths: Immunity to doctor bills.

Weaknesses: Grocery bills, dentist bills.

Nap Dragon: Few dragons ever grow as big as the Nap Dragon. It’s not that they can’t reach that size; it’s that they often die before they do. Never wasting time with loot, sacking villages, or chasing down and kidnapping brides, the Nap Dragon rarely, if ever, draws any attention to itself. Year after year, snacking away on the Blue-Drakes in his own little dungeon, the Nap Dragon is free from any competition or natural predator--except the sandman, of course. Sometimes, especially for dragons, it just pays to be lazy.

Strengths: Incredibly strong, fast and smart.

Weaknesses: Always tired, grew too fat to leave its cave, can’t find the right-sized pillow.

Nap Dragon: Few dragons ever grow as big as the Nap Dragon. It’s not that they can’t reach that size; it’s that they often die before they do. Never wasting time with loot, sacking villages, or chasing down and kidnapping brides, the Nap Dragon rarely, if ever, draws any attention to itself. Year after year, snacking away on the Blue-Drakes in his own little dungeon, the Nap Dragon is free from any competition or natural predator--except the sandman, of course. Sometimes, especially for dragons, it just pays to be lazy.

Strengths: Incredibly strong, fast and smart.

Weaknesses: Always tired, grew too fat to leave its cave, can’t find the right-sized pillow.

Rabbistro: ‘Well-mannered,’ ‘well-dressed’ and ‘well-tempered’ are three compliments Rabbistro likes to earn. But never should someone ask for rabbit stew or insult his suit, for if they do, the eight-foot rabbit will literally grow with rage and devour his offender.

Strengths: Cooking.

Weaknesses: Lucky feet, tardiness, disappearing cats.