《Haphazardous Debugging: Adaptation》


 Chapter 1

    ''C''mon, man! Let''s teleport!''


    ''NO!''


    ''Let''s at least get a couple of horses then.''


    ''No, I''m not a fan of horse-meat.''


    ''Well, shit! Why can''t we ride on bears or pumas or something?''


    ''For fuck''s sake, Elsper! Quit your nagging! If I say we are going on foot - then on we march! End of discussion! ''


    ''Okay, but where are we going to get supplies?''


    ''Not you too, Morgen! Jesus Christ, people! We left the town less than three hours ago! Elsper won''t stop whining, that her feet hurt, you think I''m retarded! Pickle and Oakbreaker won''t stop whispering about a plan to knock me out and teleport there anyway, because those fucks clearly forgot that I have exceptionally sharp hearing. Take a cue from Vencer! He can''t take his eyes off Elsper''s ass this whole time! Or from Legolas - he probably isn''t thinking of anything at all!''


    ''But...''


    ''Morgen! You are forgetting three things. One - I''m paying the bills around here! If you want, I''ll knock the basics of capitalism into your tin can, profoundly cursing while I''m at it! Two - don''t think that I''m stupid! Did you seriously think that I don''t have a plan to supply our little venture?! Three - I just found a quite amusing article on exotic means of execution and torture. There''s at least three thousand of them listed here, and at a glance, I can tell you that I can perform a third of them right here, right now!''


    ''Oooh! Can I read the article as well?'' - Faust was visibly aroused.


    ''Yeah, I''ll send it to ya via message. A legendary fucking fellowship of adventurers! We''re making camp! Otherwise, we''ll kill each other before we even get there!''


    Everyone warily stopped in the middle of the field.


    ''Alright, let me make myself clear! We''re walking because I like to travel! I''ve been in love with camping since I was a kid. And, well, I just kinda feel like it! It''s not like the Imperial Army is running away from us. And to demonstrate our new innovative supply line, Steve will perform a magic trick. And FreakHead will be assisting. And, okay, I will compromise. The ladies may ride on mounts. Where they get them is none of my concern, but I believe the mages will be happy to assist. Steve, hit it!''


    The conjurer waved his hand as he mouthed an incantation. A flaming pentagram materialized in the air and descended tt the ground. The next instant, a six-foot-tall stone gargoyle stepped out of it carrying baskets and bags. It visibly grew a lot more gray, when it saw an excessively salivating FreakHead running around, and started hastily setting up our camp.


    ''Steve, how much do you pay this thing to do all of this? I thought summoned demons could only be bodyguards, at best.''''Paid? Well, I wouldn''t say paid... I just told it that I wouldn''t give it to FreakHead,'' A loud crunch and a high pitched squeal interrupted our conversation.


    ''...often, I mean, if it behaved well. So if anyone wants something, feel free to ask. Your order will be served to the letter.''


    My squad started to make themselves comfortable while I approached an alder tree at the edge of the clearing and leaned against the warm bark.


    The sun was setting, and everybody was noisily setting up camp like they were on a picnic. Campaign my ass! It was like taking kindergarten kids out for a trip. I smelled the smoke of a fire, Faust started to throat sing. Probably to conjure something up to everyone''s amusement. I hugged the tree like I did when I was a kid, concentrating on how the bark felt beneath my hands, soaking up the live warmth with every cell of my body.


    At some point, I felt that feeling of warmth spread through my entire body. It was as if I was drowning in warm water. Colorful lights flashed in front of my eyes, and my perceptions altered.


    What was it like being the forest? To breathe through millions of leaves. To see through a million eyes. To feel with a million hands. And to sing. To sing an endlessly beautiful song, in which death throes, furious wailing and the rustling of the grass, and the whispers of growth, all had a part to play. And the silence.


    Then something attracted my attention. Something that stood out in the harmony of life and death that I came to witness. It was like a smudge of black ink on a pastel landscape. Death, emptiness, and hunger.


    I opened my eyes. I retained the forest''s senses, but they became weaker. I turned my head from side to side, stretching my neck, and suddenly felt the exact direction of the smudge from my vision. I tried to get up but was shocked to realize that my hands stuck to the trunk. All my calm and desperate attempts to free myself failed. I was beginning to panic, so I tried to transform. My body was pierced by pain but to no avail. What the hell is this!? And then, once again, my mind was flooded by feelings of serenity and peace. This time I lost my shit for real! I didn''t want to grow roots and stay here for god-knows-how-long! I pulled away with all my might, and with a loud crack, my hands tear apart from the tree. I turned out that the sound came from my skin, tearing away. I regarded my flayed appendages with a weird mix of horror and relief. I cautiously gaze at the alder tree and take a few steps back when I see blood ooze from the handprints that my skin left. This is how people become dendrophobes! Now I''m gonna have to worry about Pinocchio visiting my nightmares!


    ''Selena, my sweet! Can you do me a favor and burn this fucking alder to ash? Please.''


    ''No problem, what for?''


    ''Well, I''m feeling quite a bit of resentment for it right now.''


    Selena approached and skeptically glanced first at my regenerating arms and then at the skin that I left on the tree.


    ''You are phenomenally good at getting yourself into trouble, my dear Fillin.''


    ''Quit stating the obvious. Any idea what that was?''


    ''Well, if there were a druid nearby, I''d assume that he cast some sort of spell on you. But I''ve never seen anything like this... What did you feel?''


    ''Like I was growing roots... Just burn the damn thing. And I''ve got another question for you. If there''s some weird shit nearby, what do we do?''


    ''You amuse me,'' fire started dancing in the woman''s hands, ''In here weird shit means XP and loot.''


    ''And what if, like, we end up as XP and loot?''


    ''I can''t believe that this is coming from a man who cut a continental level monster in half!''


    ''Well, that was then! Now I''m scared. Protect me, Fire Mistress!'' With that, I comically scurried away from the tree and hid behind the woman. Embracing her in my arms, I buried my face in her hair. The fireball missed the tree and flew off into the horizon.


    ''Fillin! You''re gonna get hurt if you keep this stuff up!''


    ''Keep what stuff up?'' She turned to face me.


    ''You are this close to getting raped!''


    I pressed my cheek to her''s and carefully whispered in her ear:


    "My Queen, my Queen! Into your Fire


    I''ll gaze for ages and will never tire.


    A transfixed moth my soul will be


    A helpless victim of heartburn and thee."


    She looked deep into my eyes. And the top buttons of her blouse unfastened in the blink of an eye.


    ''Why do you ask anyway? About the weird shit?''


    ''Something tells me that less than a mile away from here, there is some sort of concentration of dark powers.''


    I kept working on her buttons and made it all the way to her waist. She wasn''t wearing any underwear and the sorceress''s breasts. I lead my palm from her neck down to her belly, playfully caressing her nipple through the cloth.


    ''Are you sure about that?''


    ''Absolutely, there''s something wicked really close.''


    I unbuttoned the buckle of her leather tights. My lips dug into her sweet neck, and I heard her gasp for air.


    ''The Erratic Dungeon!''


    ''The what?'' My hands were all over her breasts.


    ''There aren''t any evil locations on the map, so that means that you felt an Erratic Dungeon. It''s always jumping from place to place and is randomly generated every time. All the best loot and treasures can be found there.''


    While she was saying this, I was gently but firmly pushed away. She proceeded to get her outfit back together.


    And I was left to my own frustration and deprived of any hope for a release. I cursed my big mouth, the murderous forest, and my life, for that matter. I figured that being raped by Selena is one thing, but attempting to turn the tables is a quick and ergonomic way to get rid of a body. There probably won''t even be any ashes left.


    The camp came alive with activity when Selena stormed in and started to tell Morgen and Pickle of my discovery.


    ''So, Filin! Let''s clear out that Dungeon! Just like I promised you!''


    ''Morgen, you can''t imagine how un-fucking-timely this dung-geon appeared in my life!''


    ''What do you mean? This is your right of passage into the normal gaming experience! Plus, we''ll be able to battle-christen our squad!''


    ''Ah, shovel all that up your ass!''


    ''Can''t.''


    ''Why the fuck not?''


    ''it''s already stuffed with my dreams of a quiet life and a career.''


    ''How the hell did they get there.''


    ''They went there right after I met your crazy ass. I''ve got so much money in the bank, that I can live several lifetimes off the vig. And my salary for my regular job pales in comparison, even with all the bonuses and premiums. Our adventures have made me so famous that I''ve had to buy celebrity grade filters. I''m being spammed with invitations to star in all kinds of adds. And they''re offering big bucks too.''


    ''And? You sort of sound as if you''re complaining.''


    ''Like, what''s the point?''


    ''Excuse me?'' My eyes bulged out at Morgen, As I tried to figure out if I missed some crucial characteristic in my friend.''


    ''Well, I mean, like...'' Morgen waved his hand in a broad and vague gesture. ''Like what did you dream of when you were alive?''


    ''What did I dreamed of?'' A smile crawled across my face. ''Log out of the Game and take a look out your window. And you''ll see what I dreamt of. I dreamt of the world you live in now. A world where geniuses and lowlives alike have an equal shot at happiness, where you don''t need a character of steel and a will of iron to get through life, where you don''t need to slave away for decades before you can finally stop missing out on your life''s calling.


    ''... A world where a lack of imagination is a legally declared global issue. Where in order to finally die, you are required to sign a tonne of papers, where strict eugenic regulations are in effect, where everyone over twelve years has a mandatory contraceptive implant and where to become a parent you need to pass more tests than a colonist trainee.''


    ''You''re god''damn right! And I played my fair part in bringing that world to be! I''ve done some digging and found that my descendants saved the world from annihilation TWICE!''


    ''Did you read the part where they were the reason behind the world being on the brink of annihilation?''


    ''They didn''t do it on purpose! I read the reports. Nobody could have predicted that Artificial Gravity Installation would connect the two centers of mass and that the force of the interaction would be so intense! And they put the Moon back in orbit, didn''t they? And now it''s rotating, So we sort of made it all even better!''


    ''Wow... Now that you''ve explained it, I know what actually happened...''


    ''And what''s up with you, Morgen? You haven''t told me about your dream yet!''


    ''Well, I... Uum...''


    ''Jeeez, friend... You seem to have a speech impediment or something. Or maybe you''re shy? That''s okay - you can just whisper it into my ear.''


    Morgen grew pale and tried to stumble back. I caught up with him and proceeded to violate his personal space by as-a-matter-of-fact-ly adjusting is breastplate with my claws and hissing right into his face:


    ''My dear Morgen, have you forgotten? Your dream is to be one of the first colonists on Venus. Don''t upset your granddad, because statistically there''s a fair chance that you and I can be related. And you wouldn''t want to have an upset relative like me...'' Morgen gulped.


    ''So what I want you to do is be a good lad and apply to fly as a volunteer. You do want to live on Venus, don''t you?''


    ''I''d much prefer Mars, actually...''


    ''Mars is taken, Morgen. By me?''


    ''Completely? Are you planning on living there all by yourself?''


    ''That depends on how lucky I am.'' My voice is a hissing whisper.


    ''Venus is a great planet! And they''re gonna start terraforming in just fifty years. Yes, they''ll need volunteers! And there are clouds! I love the clouds!''


    ''Have you sent an application already?''


    ''yYye... I mean, no...''


    ''What''s stopping you?''


    ''I... I...F-f-f-f FUCK OFF, MAN!'' Morgen leaped back, leaving a plate of his armor in my claws.


    ''I heard you about the dream, but I don''t fucking need YOUR dream! I''ll find my own, you can be sure about that! And quit that mind control shit, you fucking freak! You could have tried to convince me with rational arguments! At least out of respect!''


    ''Rational arguments are so last Tuesday! Or better yet, they were last Tuesday, even in my time! Nowadays everybody''s using mental magic, now let''s see. To implant thought and ideas, I need physical contact with the subject...''


    ''FUCK YOU!'' And I hear the crashes of armored footsteps scurrying away.


    ''No respect for the wisdom of the elders...''


    Pickle smacked me on the back of the head and ran after Morgen. And the rest of our heroic party started to move towards the dreaded Dungeon deeper into the woods.


    ''Daaaaaaaaaaamn...''


    I couldn''t make out who said it, but I completely agreed. It seemed as though at some point, the green of the forest was cut away with some monstrous immaterial blade. Creaking and rotten trees reached for us with branches that resembled the horrific appendages of some unseen monstrosities. The fallen leaves were transformed into oily ash that still resembled the form it once had as if by some malignant spell. The reanimated corpses of small forest creatures dug around in the foliage. And FreakHead happily chased them around getting smudged in the filthy ashes.


    In front of us loomed the objective of our quest.


    Castle of the necromancers, an erratic location.


    Time remaining before reassembly: 2 days, 7 hours, 18 minutes.


    How does one describe a necromancer castle?


    It''s hard to pick up the right words, but the thing least of all resembled a castle. The walls were formed from spikes or bones, like large ribs. They were of all shapes and sizes, pressed together, and stuck outward in different directions. The gates of this morbid location consisted of two enormous scapulas, and a pair of phlegmatic skeletons stood guard in rusty armor and armed with cleavers and shields. I couldn''t make out any towers or buildings or roofs. I just saw a naked wall and a gate.


    ''So? Any ideas? What the hell is this place anyway?''


    ''Castle of the necromancers, a seven-level dungeon, inhabited by all manner of imaginable and unimaginable dead creepy-crawlies. There''s one boss on every level. It''ll either be a necromancer with a team of followers or a high-level undead creature.'' Oakbreaker seemed to be reading this from some guide.


    ''Is there anything in there besides the undead and necromancers?''


    ''Nope, but isn''t, like, this enough for you?''


    ''Steve!''


    ''Huh? Should I prepare to summon an inferno?''


    ''Nah, summon your gargoyle, tell it to bring beers and food. And by order of the team leader, make camp! We''re in for one hell of a show!''


    ''Do you have another genius idea?''


    ''As always, Steve, I have a theory, not an idea!''


    Everybody got busy. Under Faust''s spells, the ashes were driven back. A luxurious rug and several comfortable chairs materialized from thin air. Once again, the carpet was covered in bottles, small barrels, and roasted meat that smelled absolutely delicious. Selena kept FreakHead away from the pale gargoyle with fire arrows. Elsper and Jace conjured an air conditioning spell together. This was turning out to be a really great picnic, considering that we were in the middle of a cursed forest.


    When everything was set up, everyone sat around and stared at me with curiosity. I picked up FreakHead in my arms and proceeded to deliver a speech.


    ''Ladies and gentlemen! In front of us, you can see my first ever Dungeon, also known as a vault, a location filled with monsters, XP, loot, derelict treasures, and so on and so forth. And I wish to categorically state that there is no way in hell that I''m going in there!''


    With that, I dropped the unsuspecting FreakHead and kicked him mid-flight in the direction of the undead keep.


    ''And he hits the bar...'' Morgen phlegmatically muttered when the chimera hit the bone wall with a thud.


    My pet was now scurrying towards me at full speed, with its cloak mode activated, and cuddling was definitely the last thing on its mind. Thankfully the oily ashes gave away his position. My second kick was a lot more powerful, and my pet finally flew over the wall. And it only cost me a broken leg and a mild poisoning, which Elsper immediately patched up.


    Pickle handed me a pint of beer and a plate of food, I made myself comfortable and got busy enjoying life. I took in the view of the peaceful blue sky above the sinister-looking Undead castle and smiled to myself. Somewhere on the periphery of my vision, I noticed to notifications of acquired XP.


    ''What''s on your mind, Fillin?''


    ''Just painting a picture with my imagination. "The Picnic near a conquered stronghold." Although this stronghold is more like devoured, not conquered. FreakHead is having a feast.''


    ''And I just made six hundred credits!'' I stared at Legolas in surprise, who mostly kept quiet until now.


    ''How?''


    ''I''ve signed a contract to stream your adventures through my point of view. one credit for every thousand views...''


    ''Oooh, so we have a spy in our midst?! People, everyone who is streaming our adventures live, please, raise your hand!''


    Only Faust''s hands remained lowered.


    ''Fuck me... Selena!'' The enchantress muttered "oops" and grew as red as a beetroot.


    ''If we... If I... And you!''


    ''I''m sorry! I really forgot! I swear!''


    My palm slapped into my face.


    ''And why the hell do we have so many views?!''


    ''Well, this is one lazy raid.'' Answered Morgen.


    ''What do you mean?''


    ''Everybody''s dumbstruck by the radical difference between the image on our stream and the info-logs. Judging by logs, we''ve cleared out the three upper levels with record-breaking speed.''


    ''Wow! I hope we don''t end up with the "Firepit" effect...''


    ''Selena, what "Firepit" effect?!''


    ''Well, there was one incident about thirty years ago. A band of french elvish monks maxed out their resistance to fire damage and set out to hunt for fire elementals. Finally, they found their way to the Pit of the Fallen Gods. Home to the most powerful monsters in the Game, who, coincidentally relly entirely on Fire damage.''


    ''And then what?''


    ''Then after about three hours of farming, the infernal caverns were flooded by hordes of Undead. The Monks were trapped at the local respawn point for two weeks, I think. They renounced their genocidal ways, and the moral of the story is that the Game is really touchy about its balance.''


    ''And you''re telling me this after I sent FreakHead crashing in there!?''


    ''Uuum... I guess we can just wait it out and hope for the best...''


    Suddenly I saw a system notification, which managed to make it through my vast array of filters...


    You have discovered a secret location, "Cavern of the Broken heroes." Four hundred years ago, an ancient legion of Heroes almost made it to the heart of the Dungeon. But Zar-At-Soth, the head of the necromancer coven, placed a curse on one of the halls. The bodies of the heroes that entered were frozen in time, while their minds were condemned to live and contemplate through the ages. Slowly being devoured by madness in cold dark silence. And when the wall of the hall crashed, the curse was lifted, and the crazed heroes have been set free. In their hearts, there is only hate.


    Our party hurriedly finished their meals, gulped down the remaining wine and beer, and wiped their greasy fingers off on the clothes.


    Soon there came a loud rumble, the ground began to tremble, and a huge creature composed of all kinds of different bodies twisted together appeared over the ribcage-wall. Behind it rose a column of dust, and I could see crimson flashes of spells whizz by. The flesh golem grabbed onto the wall with one of its formless appendages and started to slump over it. But suddenly it was hit by one of the spells which cut him completely in half. And only part of the foul-smelling heap of bodies fell onto our side of the wall. It was then that I noticed FreakHead sitting on top. What was left of his golem started to wiggle, grew a few hundred small legs, and started running towards the forest. The wall of the necro-fortress shuddered once again, and with a loud crash, part of it fell apart. And out of the clouds of bone dust, we saw the fabled Broken heroes.


    "Yeah, no fucking wonder archeology isn''t popular around these parts!"


    Thre figures were sprinting at us in wedge formation. A colossal troll wearing only gauntlets and a loincloth while swinging around a hammer the size of an average tower. To his right ran a Knight in heavy plate armor bearing a scutum and a menacing lucerne hammer. And to the left was a red-eyed nightmare brandishing two short sabers, which I figured to be a dark elf.


    And behind them, shimmered cloaked figures and formless shadows with bows and arrows.


    Suddenly I saw an arrowhead stop right in front of my face. Selena caught it by the shaft without so much as a glance.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "Fillin! The Drow''s on you! Think you can manage?"


    "The hell if I know! That''s my first Drow ever!"


    "Well, then try to be gentle!"


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!"


    Elklas D''Choreh, Assasin.


    Lvl 99


    HP: 82 000


    I fly into the dark elf like a flock of birds into a jet turbine! Have you ever fought a jet turbine? There were feathers, cloth on minced meat flying in all directions. I manage to block only the fatal blows, that are aimed at my chest and head. I get blood on my spear reasonably quickly, and with another successful block, the elve''s saber turns into a lush bouquet of flowers, and I manage to graze his hands with my talons. But his second blade caught me in the shoulder, feels like he almost cut through the bone. I lash out again with my spear, aiming for his blade. The second saber turns into a beaver, which smashes right into my face, making me drop my magic stick. The Drow didn''t waste his advantage, produces two small daggers, and leaped at me. One of them hits me in the liver, but by rapidly transforming my head, I manage to catch the second on with my beak.


    We freeze for a moment, neither is sure of the next move. But I remember that I''m a fucking wizard. The Submission doesn''t work. So I activate the Nightmare one.


    The elf''s pupils dilate in horror, his hand begins to tremble, and I seize the opportunity to dig my beak into his collarbone.


    You have crushed the will of your opponent. The seal of the curse has been broken.


    I hurry to roll away from under the elf''s body as it begins to bloat and grows. A pair of segmented appendages bursts from his sides. His head contorts as his eyes bulge out and fill with gold. A set of enormous pincers tears his jaw apart. His legs entwine together and swell into one drop-like shape that is colored in black-and-yellow stripes. Finally, his back explodes into a set of wings.


    "This would sure be a compelling argument for washing your fucking hands and deep-frying your meat!"


    The giant hornet buzzed into the air, his elf hands still clutching at the daggers, the stinger at the end of his abdomen oozing with venom. From somewhere behind me, a fireball is sent straight at it. The giant bug just swerves to the side, absorbing the spell with the flurry of its wings. Lightning strikes from the sky, it makes the hornet flinch but doesn''t even scratch its HP. The insect hovers higher, ready to dive down towards me. My hands turn into wings, and I leap towards it, aiming my spin kick at its head with all my momentum. The blow lands right under the pincers, and the head snaps off with a crunch. But the decapitated monstrosity still wobbles in the air, without so much as a thought of passing away.


    I look around. Things aren''t going really well. Judging by a pair of boots and mantle in the middle of a cute little crater - that''s where Vencer was casting his spells. Prof''s body lays motionless with an arrow run through his temple next to a stone statue of whom I figure used to be an enemy mage. Selena is engulfed in an aura of flames, missing an arm, and spewing black flames at an unlucky enemy. I notice an unfinished pentagram with a half-eaten carcass in the middle. Steve never was good at speed-casting incantations. Morgenhand is covering Oakbreaker, who''s come down with a massive hole in his hip. He''s being healed by Elsper, but the priestess is bleeding profusely from her eyes and ears. Pickle and Louie are battling with three copies of a fully armored knight, and it''s plain to see that they are a hair away from getting their asses handed to them.


    The troll seems to be angrily immobilized in a net of light. About a hundred-and-fifty feet away, I spot an enemy mage, whos being covered by two archers, which are pouring down arrows at Legolas and Faust. The two of them are a sight to behold.


    The elf''s eyes are the size of a pair of hard-boiled eggs, and he has a really, really, really creepy smile on his face. Faust is hugging him from behind with a weird perverse tenderness while whispering something into his ear. Legolas''s body is stuffed with at least a dozen arrows, and his hand grows into a bone claw.


    I rush to the Professor''s body and start tearing into his flesh, which triggers my regeneration.


    Things start to escalate. Selena''s opponent explodes, and the sorceress is blasted away into a nearby tree. One of the knight''s copies pushes back Lou, while his two siblings tackle Pickle. Soon a cleaver splits the ogre''s head open. Louie shout out a spell, and all three of the knights are swallowed up by the eath. The Paladin stares at the battlefield in awe but is soon to catch an arrow to the gut. Morgen and Oakbraker rush to his defense and cover him with their shields, while Elsper advances to heal him. Seeing what''s about to happen, I shriek:


    "Don''t you fucking dare! He''ll fucking explode!"


    Luckily Elsper stopped casting her healing spell, and none of us would have to witness what would happen with our chaos Paladin. We''ll save the red mist for another day.


    Finally, Faust finished his spell, and what used to be a cute albeit stupid elf rushed at the remains of the enemy team with blinding speed. A dwarf tried to stop him but was instantly sliced in half by the bony appendage. The next instant, the elf was in between the two archers and turned them into piles of neatly cut ribbons. The mage though, was quick to cover himself in a protective bubble, and a whisp of energy turned the ex-elf into a cloud of greasy ash. The second whisp was aimed at Faust, but he managed to block it with his obsidian blade and enveloped himself in an aura of his own, which was darker and a lot slimier. The wicked priest started to advance, standing between us and the mage. I rush to Louie''s side and grab him by the head.


    "Submit!"


    You are the creator of the active curse. All spells unconditionally succeed on this target.


    "Kill the Bitch-ass Mage!"


    Lou calmly rises, effortlessly lifts his terrible shield (Morgen and I weren''t able to even make it budge) and with mace in hand rushes towards the sorcerer, who managed to reduce Faust to a slimy puddle a second earlier.


    The first spell whisp that hits Louie turns into a spill of water, the second - into a shower of sparks, the third - hits his shield and makes it ring like a giant bell. The next second the Paladin lifts the mage onto his shield and drives him into a wall before I can even get a look at the poor guy. Then he calmly pulled the shield from the dent in the stone and hit the gory stain where the head would presumably be. Just for good measure, I guess. Finally, Lou mechanically strode back to us, failing to notice the arrow that stuck out of his stomach.


    Suddenly we all heard a shrill ring, like from the shattering of melodic crystals. The troll that I already completely forgot about was now pissed and free.


    "FUUUCK!" - the three of us let out in unison.


    "Elsper, make sure we''re not munched down! Morgen, let''s go with the Sad elephant strategy!"


    "Huh?"


    "Just kick his fat ass!"


    So we charge, I attack from the left, Morgen - from the right. I dodge beneath a swing of the hammer and jab my spear somewhere into his armpit. I don''t have time to see the effect and strike again, hitting his lower back. My stick goes in about four inches. The troll bent forward, and I get kicked straight in the chest, flying into the same tree that Selena hit. Getting your head slammed into a tree makes you dreamy and contemplative. So I helped myself to sucking the meat off my girl''s delicate fingers while watching Morgen jump comically around the troll. In a moment, my head was clear again, and I was graced with a genius thought. The troll''s a big fella. He won''t be expecting an attack from above. Big mistake.


    I transform myself into an owl and snatch my spear and blast off. Once I''m high enough, I dive-bomb down. But my swift pique didn''t go as planned. I underestimated the troll''s finesse. In a panic, I try to transform back, but it doesn''t help. I barely manage to produce a knife and cut into something slippery and awful-smelling. With a gut-wrenching crunch, I lose my leg. I scream as I slide down and plop into pungent slime. In a frenzy, crazed from the pain and being dissolved in acid I lash out at the soft tissue with all I have, while hearing a muffled shout:


    "Nurse! C-section!"


    I feel something cut into the wall of the stomach behind me. The insides begin spilling out along with me. My left eye goes blind, but somehow I feel it plop out of the socket.


    "Nurse! Looks like it''s a boy!"


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"


    "How loud he is! Must be a really healthy one!"


    "AAAA! FUUUKING KILL ME! IT HURTS!!"


    "What do you say, nurse? I''d say he''s a whopping hundred and forty pounds!"


    "UUUUGHH!"


    "Nah, his leg''s missing... I think it''s something like a hundred and twenty-ish."


    "KIIIIIIL YOUUUUUU!" - I start to bite into the troll''s still-warm body.


    "Look at the instincts on this one! Nurse, look! Went straight for his mother''s teat..."


    "STROKE!"


    "God damn it, Fillin! Cut the shit! I''m all out of mana potions, and I have barely enough left for one resurrection! You see your fine! No harm done! Let me bring Morgen back."


    With great effort, I am able to pick myself up. All covered in stinking slime and blood. I see my left eye half dissolved on the ground. My naked left leg is pale and smooth, without so much as a single hair. I rummage in the remains of my clothes, all the knives are gone. And I find my spear lodged deep in the troll''s eye. When did that happen?


    "Umm, Fillin? What the hell is that?"


    Elsper points towards the giant hornet, whos twitching and contorting in some grotesque metamorphosis.


    "That, Elsper, is a living, suffering example of what happens to you when you don''t wash your hands in a dungeon."


    "Wasn''t he a dark elf before? So what? Did he get tapeworms or something?"


    "Precisely! And during our epic battle, The Great and Powerful Me made him shit himself in terror! And that''s what we got."


    "Yeah, is it just me or does it look like it''s growing its head back?"


    "Oh? I guess we''ll have to remedy that. Lou! You alive!?"


    "Barely... What do you want?"


    "Go ahead and heal this nightmare from reality! Before he inseminates all of us with that stinger of his!"


    The Paladin cast a spell at the hornet. And then everyone heard Louie scream:


    "EVERYBODY FUCKING RUN!!!!"


    "Wha...?"


    "I just cast "Devine protection"! And it''ll last TWO HOURS!"


    Three hours later.


    "This will be fun! MY ASS! Let''s just grab some easy treasure! That''s a great dungeon! Why don''t we raid it! FUCKING LYING BASTARDS! THIS WAS AN EXPRESS TRAIN TO HELL, YOU LOW-LIFE SONS''O''BITHES!!!"


    "How were we supposed to know it''d be this bad?"


    Crunch.


    "Fillin, would you calm the fuck down already?''


    "CAlm DOWN?! Selena, the only thing that''ll calm me down is A COMPLETE AND UTTER GENOCIDE OF EVERYTHING!!"


    "Wow, easy now! Talk to me. What the hell happened?"


    "Selena, my sweet, I spent two fucking hours at the Res-Point calling for help through the chat! And not a single one of the pathetic hemorrhoids answered! Two hours! Face to Face! With A GIGANTIC FUCKING HORNET! He bit my head clean off FORTY FUCKING TIMES! That hellish beast came closer than anyone to claiming my anal virginity with that razor-sharp stinger of his! And just so you know - that venom he''s got makes you swell up to the size of A SMALL BUS IN A MATTER OF SECONDS!"


    "But you found a way out eventually, didn''t you?"


    "Yeah, Pickle! Whop-de-fucking-do! The great and Powerful, hornet-ridden Fillin lost all his weapons, had an only 20% resist to poisons, and all he could do was snap his fucking neck! With these bare hands! What an amazing skill! I''ve dreamed of this since I was a kid! And I bet it''ll sure come in handy in the real world!"


    "Shit, man! We said we were sorry!"


    "Bitches! Cowards! And not a word out of you, you failed miscarriage! How does one even cast a two-hour divine bubble!? The world record for three whole centuries was TEN FUCKING MINUTES! TEN!"


    "I..."


    "And who the hell are those fuckers?!"


    "The Green Blades. Their clan is in the top hundred worldwide, and in the top twenty on the continent."


    "And how many of them are there?"


    "About fifty..."


    "How can you tell?"


    "The forum..."


    "And what are these poor bastards doing here?"


    "They''re collecting the loot. Soon they''ll be ready to attack the Lich."


    "Our loot?!"


    "Well, yeah..."


    "Morgen, name a national Jewish holiday. Nine letters."


    "Yomkippur?"


    "It''s Yom Kippur! Two words! No, a national Jewish holiday is a holocaust!


    *The MC is currently in a state of creative rage. The author does not support any anti-semitic views in any form*


    Another hour later.


    "Fillin, are you sure this will work?"


    "I am always sure!"


    "But you''re not even a necromancer..."


    "Ask Faust, he sure knows!"


    "Faust looks like he''s about to have a full-body orgasm! What the hell have we drawn around the camp?!"


    "Not sure what hell, but this is definitely gonna be fun, I promise. Morgen, get up."


    "What for?"


    "You have about ten minutes to dig a ditch."


    The Green Blades squad was alive with activity. This whole mission was a walk in the park. The scouts spotted the Dungeon early, and right after the party of adventurers was wiped, the squad was able to move in. It was amazing that less than ten players cleared six out of seven levels, opened all the chests, found the secret room, and didn''t take a single thing with them. There were no clan markers to be found, and the unfortunate adventurers didn''t stand a chance against even a handful of the strongest members of the squad. All that was left was to gather the loot in the castle courtyard, clear out the Lich, and claim the reward. For an easy-peasy job well done.


    "Dude? Hey, Dude?"


    Indrick, the leader of the warriors of the squad, was drawn from his pleasant thoughts by a knock on his armor-plated back.


    "Huh, what?"


    He turned to see a young man, covered in rags, wearing a worn travel cloak with a large branch in his hand and a line of rope.


    Hayam The Travelling Bard


    Lvl 53


    HP 1600


    "Dude, can you move over?"


    "What? Move over where?"


    "Well, I don''t care where, just take, like three steps that way."


    Dumfounded, Indrick walked to where the stranger asked him to. His mind was overflowing with questions. What was a low-level character doing so far from the large settlements? How the hell did he show up in the middle of a raid party? Why wasn''t he detained by the sentries?


    The new-comer calmly threw the end of the rope over one of the bony protrusions that stuck from a nearby arch. He jerked on it a couple of times and proceeded to tie a noose.


    "What are you doing?"


    "Committing suicide, can''t you see?" said the man as he took a small chest of treasure and stood on it.


    "Why? No, wait! You must live!" Shouted the utterly confused Indrick, watching the stranger put his head into the noose and tighten it near his left ear.


    "No!"


    "But at least explain why."


    " I''m too fucking awesome for this world." With that, the stranger flung out his arms, raised his head to the cloudless blue sky, started shaking the stool beneath his feet, and shouted: "Dark skies, give me strength!"


    A figure of the ragged stranger dangling a few inches above the ground in the middle of a shocked camp might have been amusing. And Indrick, Touched by Light, a one hundred and thirty level paladin might have cut the poor sod down. But at that moment, the clear blue skies did indeed darken.


    Darkness began seeping upward from beneath the oily soil and grasped the bard''s feet. His nik changed to "Fillin, Bringer of Chaos, Mentalist." Indrick tried to reach for his weapon, but his body was paralyzed. And the chat was disabled.


    You have entered a scripted scenario. You are unable to quit the Game or use the chat for the remainder of the script.


    Meanwhile, the dark formed into a pedestal beneath the hanged man. Fillin began to transform: his torn rags were molding into an elegant suit, his noose tore, and turned into a tie. And a figure began to appear next to the tree.


    "You summoned me, Madman?"


    "My Lady, you shouldn''t be so harsh. I''m not your usual hogwash. I''m an Inspired Madman!"


    "You summoned me! Why?"


    How can a voice have no face? When you hear a noise, you always have at least some frame of reference to comprehend it in. Be it the squeak of a door, The rustle of wind, the sound of a string. Sure, you can mistake the sound of steps with the tapping of shutters. The rustling of pages with the soughing of fabric. The rumble of a fire and the growl of an animal. But you can tell the difference between the ring of glasses and a baby''s cry. The sound of a broken branch and the gong of a bell. Scraping gravel and notes on a guitar. But here... The voice could belong to anything. To Time itself, to a little girl, to a grizzled old man, to a man or a woman. That voice had no face.


    "It''s simple, my Lady. All I want is..."


    "Power? Strength? Riches?"


    "A dance..."


    "A dance?"


    "Is that so much to ask?"


    "You risked your whole existence on a dance?"


    "Yeup. Are you impressed?"


    "I''ll admit, traveler, I am."


    "Dazzling women deserve to be impressed. That is our gift to eternity."


    "Well said. Fitting that I hear this from the mortal who challenges a third God."


    "Enough words. Maestro! Music!"


    With that, Fillin stepped from the pedestal. His mantle of darkness was now a slick three-piece suit. The formless cloud around his dance-partner also morphed into a long silk dress with an open back. Her hood disappeared, and waves of curly silver hair streamed down her shoulders while her face remained concealed behind an elegant mask.


    "My Lady, you seem to be missing something." Fillin reached into Indrick''s chest, tearing through his armor as if it were paper, and tore out his still-beating heart.


    "Thanks, man. We''ll catch up later," whispered the smiling madman as he gave the bleeding heart to the incarnation of darkness. In her arms, it turned into a candy-apple-red rose, which she tucked behind her ear.


    Indrick couldn''t wrap his mind around what was happening. With horror, he tore his gaze away from the gaping hole in his chest and looked around. Every member of the clan, the warriors, the mages, the assassins, the priests - everyone was under the spell of the dark skies. Some of them lined up into two rows, and that''s when the real terror began. The back row reached out in sync, plunging their hands into their comrade''s bodies and extracted their gruesome musical instruments. A guitar with the fingerboard fastened from a human spine, a violin with a fibia bow. A french horn made from ribs and pulsating muscles, flute, drums ... Indrick could not bear to look as his team-mate''s bodies fell limply to the ground. Their faces calm and serene...


    The first notes of a waltz echoed eerily through the camp. The cursed freak, damn him to hell, led the woman in their blasphemous dance. She smiled charmingly, the red rose glistened in her hair.


    Their moves were getting faster, lightning bolts struck from the sky, thundering to the beats of the music.


    "Faster! Faster! What are you standing around for?" shouted the woman to the rest of the paralyzed players, who weren''t yet part of the hellish festivity.


    "Dance! Dance!"


    And they obeyed. Their skeletons stepped out of their skins, shedding their flesh like suits.


    Indrick stood in the middle of this hellscape. The madman swirled around him, dancing with Death-incarnate, and the bloody frames of his team-mates followed suit. It was at that moment that Indrick stopped being an atheist.


    Not so far away, Morgen, who had previously managed to dig out a respectable ditch, was swearing to himself to never piss-off Fillin again. NEVER! PISS-OFF! FILLIN!


    Half an hour later.


    I must definitely be insane. Hot damn, I''m feeling jacked! I killed like fifty people and feel so peaceful! Okay, virtually killed, but the peace is real enough for me! The dance with the beautiful lady was just the thing! Too bad, she''s only code with infinity glistening in her eyes. But she was smokin'' hot! And nobody around is whining or complaining. They''re just gathering the loot, quiet as mice.


    "Fillin!"


    Damn it.


    "Yes, Selena, what is it?"


    "There''s still a Lich beneath the castle. Are we gonna kill it or what?"


    "Not we, I''ll take care of it! FreakHead! Where the hell are you?"


    A curious gurgle sounded next to my leg.


    "And where have you been, you unfixed glitch? Ran off, huh? You should be ashamed of yourself! Who is gonna clean up these tonnes of dead meat? What do you mean you don''t know? Ahh, forget it! C''mon, we''ve got an ancient Lich in the basement. He''s probably waiting for us."


    Barely managing not to break anything, I descended down the stairs. The seventh level was completely empty. Not even a skinny low-level skeleton to be seen.


    The supposed hall of the main boss was also empty.


    "Heeeeey! Anyone alive down here?! Ah, shit... Wrong question... Anyone!?"


    Silence.


    "FreakHead, where is everyone?"


    The chimera confidently hippedy-hopped towards the farthest corner of the room, licking its lips greedily.


    "FreakHead! What happened to respect for your elders! Look what you''ve done to the old guy!"


    Shriveled up in a corner behind a massive heap of all kinds of treasure was the Lich, in the most submissive, humiliated stance.


    Arch Lich


    Lvl 150


    HP: 260 000


    "FreakHead, look how scared he is! Can you imagine living in peace, torturing poor souls, minding your own business? When all of a sudden, all kinds of rif-raf start banging on your door, making a mess upstairs, break all your toys and end up calling the Top Brass, and get all cozy with them. And you get all confused: should I roll over and pay up or do I stick with my duties? But if I overdo it, I''ll get into all sorts of trouble. Otherwise, grandpa might have blown us all to smithereens. Easy peasy. So let''s show some respect. Gramps, can you hear me?"


    The Lich''s green glowing eyes met mine.


    "Here, grandpa, a book for you. Covers the basics of building fortifications. So nosy heroes won''t disturb your long-earned pension plan." With that, I handed the boss a book that contained all the needed information. I bought about a dozen of them when I got tired of reading everything when it hovered in front of my eyes, you can insert any data into them.


    "Anyways, don''t mean any disrespect, best of luck to you! I hope you won''t hold a grudge. C''mon, FreakHead, grandpa''s got a cottage to refurnish."


    "Yo, Fillin! Where''s the loot from the basement?"


    "On the Lich''s lap. He''s a wise, peaceful dude."


    "You didn''t kill him?"


    "Why should have I?"


    "Why do I even ask?" sighed Morgen. "You gonna help us carry it up?"


    "Honestly, Morgen? You guys fuck around however you like."


    "What about you?"


    "I am shy! Plus, I gotta find a place to camp. It''ll get dark soon."


    Excursus 1


    Two months later, a wandering dungeon called "The Necromancer Tower" appeared on the territories of the Dragon Blade clan - one of the ancient and most distinguished clans in the Forgotten Kingdoms.


    And that was the end of the powerful guild''s existence. Later the location was reclassified as a heavily fortified area now known as the "Death Vat." The local forces were incapable of dealing with the fortress. Multiple assaults yielded zero results. A respawn point positioned at the center of the dungeon and flooded with poison gas forced some of the best players on the continent to reroll.


    Only with the help of world-scale spells were the players able to erase the tower from the face of the planet.


    But legend has it, that one day the wandering dungeon will appear again. Bigger, badder and more horrifying that before. Because some say, that the ancient Lich was able to torture one of the prisoners into giving him a book covering the basics of building fortifications, dated year 2360, and published by the Royal Engineering Academy.

 Chapter 2

    "Prof! What is magic? I mean, like from a game-dev point of view. Because I keep thinking and I just can''t get the hang of it. I mean, I sort of get the spells, but even my crazy rituals tend to work most of the time! Why is that?"


    The Professor looked at me over his glasses, as if solving a complex mathematical problem in his mind.


    "Are you seriously asking me that?"


    "Yes. What''s so surprising?"


    "Well, imagine if you would, you visit an exhibition of a famous artist. His paintings are breathtaking in their beauty and authenticity. Each one costs a small fortune. And while you are taking in another genius piece, you are approached by a man who begins asking you all kinds of questions about the basics of painting. The fundamentals of composition, proportion, structure, technique. And then you find out that the person asking actually is the famous artist, the author of all the works you came to see. What conclusion would you come to draw?"


    "That he''s fucking with me?"


    "Exactly..."


    "Anatoly, you misunderstand," The Prof skeptically raised on eyebrow. "I''m really asking you more about the chemical composition of the paints, the physics behind their interaction with the canvas, and the structures of the brushes."


    "Okay, Oleg, I believe I understand. But first, tell me in your own words what do you think magic is. Not in the game, but rather, in general."


    I pondered for a while.


    "Well, it''s hard to say. According to common belief - it is the expression of unknown forces, which people can control thanks to learned or inherited abilities. On their own or with the help of certain rituals or instruments. And these forces are only considered to be magic simply because they aren''t well researched."


    "But what if we ignore common belief. I believe that you of all people should have your own thoughts on the matter."


    "I believe that magic is Communication."


    "Communication?"


    "Yeah... Persuasion, threats, conversations, demands, manipulations. But not between people, between a person and the world. Or God or higher powers, whichever you prefer."


    "How is that? Do you mean that the world responds to people''s requests?"


    "Well, if you know how to ask, then it does..." A sly smile cut across my face.


    "And how does one ask?"


    "A little backstory first. You remember that Man was created in God''s own image."


    "Of course."


    "By that train of thought, if we take after God, then God sort of resembles us."


    "I''m following..."


    "So I''m saying that if God was a person, he''d be an ironic, lazy bastard with a big kind heart."


    Prof laughed.


    "But don''t you think that everybody has their own God? That there are more than Lazy ironic bastards with kind hearts overlooking our fates? There might be ambitious scum, unsane with inflated brains and thirsty for the blood of young boys," he nervously eyed Faust and Legolas. "As well as mild and timid deities."


    "I don''t know, I haven''t checked."


    "And does your God speak to you?"


    "When I speak to God - its a prayer. When he speaks to me - that''s schizophrenia. I wouldn''t call it "speaking", rather he lets me know that my request has been processed."


    "And how does the communication take place? You walk out into an open field and scream up at the sky? Then why the obsession with rituals?"


    "You are welcome to scream your head off in a field at any time. But rituals... Imagine that a person you''re talking to can only use simplistic speech patterns. He can only designate his desires, but can''t explain the why or how of it all. Like he''s incapable of forming sentences that complex. Rituals are a way of enriching the message. The make your request more vivid and expressive. For example, while walking down the street, you are approached by a nice old lady that blandly exclaims: "Buy pastry! Available with meat, rice, and jam!" Or she might say: "Sonny, buy a pastry! Help an old woman buy her medicine. I have some with meat, some with rice and others with jam. I made the jam myself, all-natural and very tasty." Who''s got the best chances of getting paid for their pastries? Especially if both approach you at the same time, and the second one is smiling warmly. And what the hell does this have to do with the magic in the game anyway?"


    "It has everything to do with it. The system works similarly, although in a discreet manner. One ritual ends up being more original and convincing that all the other similar ones. It''s a contest for being the most logical, dramatic, beautiful. Or horrible..."


    "Or the craziest..."


    "Naturally," The Prof smiled. "That''s most likely the secret behind you astounding success. So what''s it like? Being a sorcerer in the real world?"


    "It sucks..." I puckered up. "Just think of it! You wish to... Oh, I don''t know... Find an obsidian shard in your back yard. And you have convinced the world by convincing yourself that you need it to be exactly in your back yard, so bad that it hurts. Screw making an effort like going somewhere to buy it or find it. And as soon as the convincing is done, a chain of events is set in motion. And the fun part is that it doesn''t originate here and now. How does that piece of rock find it''s way to the destination you set? And the stronger... Rather, the more convincing the sorcerer - the more convoluted the chain. If the ritual is potent, a glacier might slide down a nearby mountain-side and drag right through the said back yard. Or an innocent person may be killed, stabbed to death by a crazed devil-worshiper with the obsidian shard you ordered. Or it''ll be brought by a friendly meteor. Or the neighbor''s boy will toss it over your fence. And of your desperate enough to ritually tie your destiny with another person like that - it''s over. The mind-boggling chain of events will drag you through life, scraping your meat off on concrete and dry sand, using you to break walls and demolishing lives in your immediate vicinity. Basically, it''s like swallowing a crazy mess of fishing hooks on a line. You either get what you asked for, or you die. There is no option C."


    "And you can really ask for anything you want?"


    "Oh yeah, Prof! Anything. But only on the condition that YOU personally really NEED it. And that''s often not determined consciously. It''s hard to ask for logical stuff. And you still haven''t answered my question. Aren''t there like a complex system? Laws, paradoxes, equations?"


    "Well, I guess there are... Somewhere... Where they have managed to think them up. But I don''t think anyone will be able to show you a definite general formula of magic or it''s logical model."


    "Why? Do you think it''s that complicated?"


    "Our world has already been consumed by logic. Mathematical calculation reigns supreme, governing over everything from the healthy diet plans to social models. Humanity is on the brink of discovering the final elements of the formula of human personality. Sure, there are three thousand one hundred ninety-six variables, but it can categorize every human being. And the games are a safe haven from all that. A place where the power of logic isn''t absolute. We have gifted ourselves a fairy tale. But tell me, Oleg, what did you convince the world to give you? What got you dragged in here?"If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Sure, Anatoly. Once I broke a glass pin under the full moon. The pin was washed in the three seas, has tasted the blood of three enemies, and held the warmth of my Love''s hand. And as I did it, I was gloriously laughing at the absurdity of what I was about to say. Because I was about to give the higher powers a run for their money. I wished that I would one day step upon the lush green fields of Mars."


    "Holy shiiiiiiiiiiit!"


    It turned out that while we were pleasantly conversing, our group wandered out onto a riverbank, where a vast oared dracar was docked. Its crew was in the middle of setting up camp. I was amazed at the fact that none of us heard the huffing and puffing of all these gruff men, considering that there seemed to be just over a hundred of them. Formally, I was on scout duty. But considering that death here was mildly inconvenient, I wasn''t all that concerned with my safety.


    The one who said, "Holy shit" was a huge Viking, with piercing blue eyes, a weathered face, and a dirty-blonde beard weaved into braids of different girth. The enormity of his stature was enough to put all of us to shame. Except, probably, for Pickle.


    Dis the Changeling, Warrior


    Lvl 75


    HP: 100 000


    "Name''s Fillin, Oleg to my friends," Yes, I''m aware that brashness is my curse.


    "You swing a big set of balls for someone so small," The Viking rose from the log he was sitting on and heaved an ax on his shoulder. Judging by its size, the weapon was a relative of Louie''s shield.


    "By what right?" he asked.


    "By right of spilled blood," I motioned my companions to remain silent and leaned onto my stick. "And who are you to ask me questions?"


    "I am a Yarl, and behind me is my army."


    "A yarl, huh? And since when do decent folk follow around a were-beast? And where do they follow him to?"


    The Viking''s eyes flashed.


    "It''s amusing to hear such questions from a ... thing that''s followed by some band of freaks that reek of magic as bad as a hole of shit on a hot summer day."


    "My comrades follow no mere mortal. They''re drawn not by fame or gold. They march in the glory of a future God. And what of you?"


    "I come for blood and glory, for women and land. And I venture to places where none come back from."


    "You''ll get nothing here, Dis."


    "This I hear from a puny birdie-person and his band of freaks and jugglers. Who''s going to stop me? You? Your pathetic magic?"


    "Hell, screw magic," I planted my stick into the ground and proceeded to hang my cloak and my jacket, dropping all of my hidden knives, my string, and my revolver. I kinda liked the guy and didn''t want to kill him. So I was gonna have to wing it.


    "You and me, yarl, are gonna do it real simple - with fisticuffs. And we''ll decide who''s going where right here, in the circle."


    Dis smirked, but I could see a hint of respect in his eyes as he also left all his weapons and armor behind. Meanwhile, his warriors murmured amongst themselves as they surrounded us in a thirty-foot circle.


    I had a little time to think. I got while the sailors were silent, they''re probably NPC''s for one, and highly disciplined warriors as well. But why the hell was my crew so timid. It''s not like I''ve installed army regulations or anything. Finally, I noticed the chat icon blinking on my periphery. The team thought they were smart to be quiet, but I was still guessing: were they afraid of spoiling my plans, did they think I would get carried away with my "cocky cut-throat" entourage, or where they shy in front of a hundred angry bearded dudes with axes? As things were, we were really risking getting slaughtered. And how was I supposed to tell them that we''ll be fighting the imperial army along-side every one of these vikings? I sent a quick text, telling the team to enjoy the show and behave and stepped into the center of our primal arena.


    Dis stepped out to greet me. The Viking leader''s torso was bulging with muscles and was littered with all kinds of scars. Seeing this, I scoffed and opted to lose my shirt as well. I was on the ass end of this topless competition. I think that the volume of his body would fit three of mine. And I bet he could easily consume my corpse in a single helping. Leaving only crushed bones in his wake, considering he was a ware-beast and all.


    We stood facing each other. It felt as though even the river stopped flowing. I looked around, then stomped my feet twice and clapped my hands. Again and again. On the third time, our audience caught the rhythm. And the ancient beat rumbled all through the camp. I could almost make out the lyrics of a song in my head, but I quickly shook them off.


    Dis stepped forward and howled. I screeched. There was nothing human left in our battle cries as we lounged at each other. I ducked under the Viking''s swing, kicked his lead leg, and with a twist, punched him straight in the back of his head. Dis lost balance and fell forward but was quick to roll over and regroup. Joy flashed in his eyes as the Viking growled. His jaw began to drop as his teeth grew sharp. Fur covered his body, and claws tore through his nails. Well, I know that trick.


    Soon it was two humanoid beasts ready to tear each other apart. Another clash. I notice that I''m a lot faster. Not wanting to test my feathers against the werewolf''s fangs, I dodge again, spin around and land a few blows to his kidneys. But the werewolf threw his head back, and his jaws snapped dangerously close to my face. His mistake. With that thought, I bit off a piece of his nose. His retaliation tore off one of my pectorals and threw me back. Nothing I couldn''t handle. He, on the other hand, was partially blinded from all the blood that gushed from his nose.


    I danced around the poor wolf, striking hard but avoiding fatal blows and dodging his haymaker swings. He was missing his left ear and half of his upper lip when I soared into the air and came crashing down onto his head. And that was it.


    "Elsper, fix him up. I wanna talk some more."


    While our healer was putting the Viking back together, I wiped the blood away with grass and got dressed.


    "Well?"


    "Yarl, allow me to serve in your ranks!" the Viking pleaded. His eyes shone with enthusiasm, and he was poorly holding back a wide-ass smile.


    "Serve? FreakHead!" The head appeared out of thin air. "What do you think? Shall we make this one into our vassal?"


    The head quickly ran around the pale Viking, poked its tale into his shin, and licked his boot for some reason. And finally purred in approval.


    "Don''t grow so pale, Dis. You''re on the last position in FreakHead''s menu. Isn''t that right?"


    The loose head that pensively froze with its maw gaping over my new comrade''s calf and was quick to scutter away into the woods. After an educational kick from me, of course.


    "Usually, the thing licks only Faust."


    "I await your answer, Yarl."


    "I''d think twice, Dis. Survival rates are minimal in this job. I would even say non-existent."


    "It won''t be the first time. I regret nothing. My request still stands."


    "Suit yourself. So be it, people!" I jumped onto the log to attract the attention of all the other Vikings. Were they mute or something?


    "People! The revoluthion that the bolthevicth have been talking about for tho long hath been cantheled! Now, Let''s party!"


    My new army was confused, my old team sighed wearily. I had to dumb down my slogans.


    "Steve! Get your gargoyle out here! Let''s get ourselves shitfaced!"


    The crowd roared in approval.

 Chapter 3

    I forced my eyes open and took in the view of a timbered ceiling. This can''t be right. I remember a bunch of demons bringing us barrels of booze. But after that - the fog of unavailable memories. The blinking chat icon revealed lists upon lists of messages, videos, notifications of passed quests and unlocked achievements, and several letters from the Games Administrators. And the worst part was that two days have passed since our encounter with the Vikings! I was beginning to feel ashamed in advance. I took several deep breaths and dove into reconstructing the events of the past two days.


    Achievement unlocked: "Master Alcoholic" - throw a bender for over five hundred persons (players and NPC''s) and keep it going for over twenty-four hours.


    +10 Endurance


    Pay 20% less for spirits in all the taverns of the continent.


    You will be provided with a free treatment plan for curing psychological addiction to alcohol (apply to any MedTech rehab center).


    FIVE HUNDRED PERSONS? Okay, there were just a little over a hundred of us with the whole viking army. Where the hell was I able to find four more hundred sentient creatures in the middle of a forest at night.


    Sheeesh... I brace myself and turn on the video...


    The first one is from Morgenhand.


    It looks like it''s just the beginning. Everything seems civil enough. I''m pushing some sort of speech in front of a circle of people, malachite goblet in hand. This I remember. The cup gets passed around, and a small demon hurriedly keeps filling it up with wine, I guess, or whatever it is we were drinking. Then I see a portal through which demons keep the barrels coming. Okay, so far, so good. Then the camera moves towards me very shakily, I''m nearly hanging of our conjurer''s shoulders and passionately talking about something.


    "So, like, um, Steve... do you trust em''?"


    "Trust who?"


    "Well, you know... Them..." I poked my finger towards the ground.


    "Why? You''ve got doubts?"


    "Sure do! What if they''re thinking of... You know... Poisoning us?"


    "What for?"


    "Well, they''re afraid of us! And this here is the perfect opportunity!"


    "Opportunity for what?"


    "To get rid of us!"


    "Naaaaaaaaah..."


    "Oh, really? What are we doing now?"


    "Drinking!"


    "Right! And what are we drinking?"


    "Uuum... Booze?"


    "Right again! Who''s booze?"


    "Demon''s Booze..."


    "Damn, Steve, what a bright bastard you are! Let me shake your hairy palm!"


    "Hairy?" Steve tried to focus his vision on his hand.


    "Forget it! Steve, to make sure that these fuckers didn''t mix anything into our drinks, you need to act like a real gentleman!"


    "How is that?"


    "You have to save every one of us! You have to be the first one to take a drink from every bottle they bring us!"


    "For a real friend like you - I''ll do anything!"


    "Thanks, Steve! I won''t ever remember you... Hic, I mean, forget you! I''ll even name my daughter Steve! Hic... Son! I mean, son, Steve! Steve will be my son!"


    We hug in silence for a moment until Steve pushes away and wobbles away with the most determined facial expression towards the biggest pile of bottles and barrels freshly birthed by the portal from hell.


    End of transmission.


    The next one is from Vencer.


    "Steve! Steve!"


    "Mmmmu-hmmm"


    "We''ve got trouble!"


    "What!? Did I miss one!? I''ll show them! Who hapned? Was it Fillin!?"


    "Whoa, calm down! I mean, we''re out?"


    "Out?"


    "Yeah, completely out. Nothing left..." The camera turns toward a hand demonstrably turning over a bottle, spilling a few drops of spirits onto the ground.


    "Lemme'' handle it..."


    The summoner''s heroic attempt to stand on his feet was futile. So was the second one... And the third one. Having come to some sort of conclusion, Steve began drawing with a knife of the ground. The figure he was trying to scratch out was very hard to describe as a pentagram. Barely finishing the thing, he got from all fours to his knees and began mumbling some sort of incantation. One he wasn''t able to finish - he just puked all over the glowing lines, collapsed on his side, and passed out right after tucking his arm under his head. The rune contorted and pulsated until a portal opened, and a shocked weird man-sized boar demon was thrown out into our midst.


    "GUYS! BARBEQUE IS HERE!" I cry out.


    "HURRAAA!!!! Hail to the Yarl!!!"


    The camera spins around to face a hoard of red-faced shit-faced vikings who rush past Vencer to seize the demon.


    Suddenly a blushing Elsper jumps into view, grabs the operator by the hand, and leads him off somewhere into the trees. Finally, she turns around, with only her sensually half-closed eyes in the frame. Then there''s a lot of fuss, and I could make out Vencer''s hand on the lady''s breast. The boob gets closer and closer...


    "Turn off the damned recorder, Idiot!"


    End of transmission.


    The next one came from Legolas.


    "Faust! Woe is upon us!"


    "Master? Just point, and I will eradicate any foe!"


    "Our only foe is the absence of booze! And with this fucking rapid metabolism, I''m beginning to sober up! Practically sober-cold stone!"


    "What of Steve?"


    "He''s under an unremovable debuff! Something about a lethal dose of alcohol... He''s passed out...Almost like a coma, I think."


    "Can''t Elsper help?"


    "She''s gone! She ran off with Vencer, and they left the chat!"


    "How can I help?"


    "Prof gave me a paper with a ritual, but he''s babbling incoherently... Here!" I''m waving around some sort of scroll.


    "And what does this spell do?"


    "Shiiiit... Prof said it would help!"


    Faust examines the spell and scowls in confusion.


    "But Master, this is a ritual of the High Maleficarum. How is this supposed to get you more spirits?"


    "How am I supposed to know!? Proff didn''t explain, but I believe him because he''s a man of science! And he knows a lot!"


    "But..."


    "Faust, no fucking but''s! Am I in charge or what?"


    "I obey, Master. Can I use Legolas?"


    "What do you think we keep him around for? Legolas!"


    Faust and I proceed to draw a giant rune on the clearing soaked in demon blood. The dark priest places shards of obsidian on specific points, and as soon as Legolas approached one of them I see a system notification:


    "Grand Soul stone (Cursed)"


    As Faust starts to read the incantation from the scroll, the camera begins to shiver, the lines of the rune emanate a sinister light. And as the camera slowly panned upwards, to the night sky, it showed Faust hovering above, ready to descend with his obsidian dagger in hand.


    "Mortals, halt!" The words came as if from the earth itself.  And the camera turns towards a loud cracking sound...


    Tapient, Spirit of the Forest, Lvl - Unidentified, HP: Unidentified.


    "Wha..."


    "How dare you attempt to curse my woods, mortal?"


    " I uhh..." The video shifts to my bewildered face.


    "I propose a bargain. What do you wish in return for having this child of darkness undo the ritual? Gold? Trinkets? Knowledge?"


    "You''ve got beer?"


    "Beeeeeeer?" Now the amount of amazement and confusion in his voice was unidentifiable.


    "Yeah! Like, lots of beer!"


    "You wish for just beer? And You''ll have your minion stop this horrendous ritual?"


    "Yeah, yeah, yeah! Can you turn the water from this river into beer or not?"


    "In exchange for your oath."


    "Done! I swear never to taint this forest with evil in exchange for a river of beer!"


    "So be it!"


    I hear hissing, the water begins to bubble, and the viking''s dracar suddenly sinks.


    "Hey! My wonderous army! The river''s flooded with beer! The party will go on! The Spirit of the Forest just gave us more spirits! Hey! What''s your called... Tapient! What sort of beer is it?"


    "Honey lager, the strong sort."


    "Good enough. Hey, I want my fucking barbeque!"


    Then there''s more of my vikings getting shit-faced. I think I used spells to get the Tree God to join the festivities. He''s reluctant at first, but later, he took a liking to his own river. A little later, a whole swarm of drunk-as-fuck mermaids surfaced from the bubbly "waters". Or should I say, soaked as sponges? The naked dark-blue girls with their bright-green hair had a definitively positive effect on the men.


    "Look! Women! All wet already and ready to mingle!"


    "They''re green, man!"


    "So fucking what!? Hail to the Yarl!"


    "Hail!"


    Then Selena steps into the frame.


    "Fillin! What are these green whores doing here?!" - I know that things are bad when she is consumed by her fiery aura, her hair turns into an aggressive inferno and sparks begin to shower from her hands.


    "They floated up by themselves!"


    "Oh, they did, did they!? Well, how about I make us all some deep-fried fish-bitch appetizers?"


    "Honey, come on! Don''t be like that! Let the boys have their fun!" A flaming arrow finds it''s way into my thigh


    "OW! What the fuck was that for, you psychotic bitch!? We didn''t even have sex, for fuck''s sake!"


    "Didn''t even...! You horny little fucker! I''ll..."


    "Boss, run! I''ll cover you!" Louie jumps between Selena and me just in time for his shield to absorb a small firestorm. He didn''t have to ask me twice! I was rushing towards the wood in big leaps, trying not to lose my beer and the skewer of demon meat.


    "Tapient! Fucking hide me, please!"


    Meanwhile, the vikings divided up the playful mermaids, and the party was once again in full swing.


    Legolas shamefully leaves the clearing, and as he''s walking through the woods, a woman''s scream rings out. The Elf rushes towards the sound. I can''t tell whether out of heroism or sheer curiosity. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Finally, the branches part to reveal the source of the noise. Elsper stands naked next to the trunk of one of the trees, her slim legs wide apart. Behind her, Vencer is rhythmically thrusting his hips with his pants down. The woman''s breasts heave with every move. Seems like Legolas liked what he found because the image begins to focus on Elsper.


    "LEGOLAS!" To voices shout in sync.


    "I didn''t thi..."


    And a flash of lightning.


    End of Transmission.


    Video from Oakbreaker.


    The dwarf sits calmly on the bank of the beer river filling up a big cup. Next to him, Pickle sips his drink from a whole barrel.


    "And why didn''t you get yourself a mermaid?"


    "I''m married, Pickle. Married to a good woman. She was so happy when I got all the cash from Fillin. Her cute little yelp still makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I bet even now she passes the room with my capsule on tiptoe and tells the kids: "Shhh, daddy''s working!" And I would never disappoint her like that. I mean what if she decides to check out the logs. And what kind of example would I be setting for younger generations? They''re curious little buggers, watching all our adventures on the net. The Boss has got his own channel. And it''s trending. I won''t let mine see anything obscene coming from me..."


    "You''re a peculiar person, OakBreaker. You should forbid your kids to match the stuff we do. I mean every time its blood, guts, dark rituals, and crazy parties. And Fillin is quite the hero..."


    "Eeeh, let them see what life can be like. And the Boss ain''t half bad."


    "But he sure sucks at dealing with women..."


    The dwarf and the ogre calmly gaze at the forest and the bright flashes of hellish fire and explosions bursting from between the trees as mine and Selena''s screaming rings out into the night as we aggressively sort things out.


    A little to the side, FreakHead is munching down a crocodile, or something very much like it. What the hell is a crocodile doing in the midlands? Oh, nope, I realize that the creature isn''t my pet''s meal, but rather its appetizer when I see FreakHead awkwardly and repeatedly dive into Beer-river.


    Suddenly out of the river, menacingly wobbles a Merman. His face is flat, and without a nose, he''s gait was explained by a slimy jumble of tentacles whish he had instead of legs. His maw was filled with rows of sharp teeth, and because of his lack of lips, it looked as if he was grinning menacingly. Although his horrific appearance was ruined by a pair of fish eyes that were crossed from all the booze.


    "Hey, guys... You got anything to snack on? Cause'' I can''t take fish anymore."


    "Help yourself." Pickle handed the river monster a pair of demon ribs.


    "Oh, damn! Bless you!"


    "Well, a drink to understanding."


    The cup chinks with the barrel.


    End of transmission.


    Pickle''s video.


    Judging by the lighting, its morning. Only the steadfast Remain standing in the clearing - about two dozen of Dis''s warriors and himself. I stand, a little burned with a cup in one hand and Selena on the other. And I''m reciting poetry. Wow, I must have really overdone the drinking part if I''m reduced to rhymes.


    "My Muse has left me for a Frenchman


    I lay there heartbroken, but not for long.


    I laughed, I cried, I grew headstrong.


    Spat in a notebook, fixed some stuff.


    Went outside - saw her again.


    "Hey, Muse! You cheating cream puff!


    Go love your Frenchman, hide from the rain!


    I''ll splash in puddles, leap over drains!


    I''ll write, create, and even love too!


    All of that in defiance of you!


    And you, my precious Lady-friend,


    Whom I''ve met along this pleasant walk.


    I hope all types of Frenchmen you despise.


    I that''s the case, would you be so inclined,


    To join me for a tasty serving of french fries?"


    And with that, I kiss my sorceress on the lips as the warriors'' cheer. But Dis is quick to counter.


    "Who hasn''t burned - won''t be reborn,


    Who hasn''t drowned - will never know


    How sweet the air of Life can flow.


    Who hasn''t fought - won''t understand


    How precious is a day of peace on beach''s sand.


    What never changes - doesn''t live


    T''is everlasting ash, unable


    To struggle, ruin, create, forgive.


    Life''s good. But end must every fable.


    Your destined time you can''t outlive."


    Again a roar of approval from the boys. Is this an epic rap battle? But damn, not bad verses from an NPC...


    Suddenly someone from our group begins pointing towards the sky and shouts to attract our attention. Above us, a night on a winged horse was flying in circles. Without missing a beat, I produce another verse:


    "Oi! Men! Look to the sky!


    A fag on a winged horse


    Just escaped from his pigsty!"


    A hate-filled scream sounds from upstairs.


    "FUUUUU! YOUUUU... SIIIIIIII MOTHAAA... KIIIIII... YOUUUU!" I couldn''t make out what the player with a probably nik-name was screaming.


    "Yarl, this must be a scout. There''s probably trouble about."


    "Don''t sweat, Dis. Everything''s cool. Probably the fucking Empire. At least we won''t have to go looking for them now."


    "How many?"


    "So many, we''ll probably spend a century burying the buggers. It would be smart to find an Earth mage. Selena, dear, you mind writing something obscene? Like in fire letters across the sky..."


    "Sure. What do you want me to write, handsome?"


    I begin to whisper my order into her ear. She blushes but waves her hand, casting the spell. Now everyone who''s got the strength to stand blushes. Even I do a little: hell if I know how one can conjure curses so harsh. Man, I feel like my inner poet died, and every day the stench of his corpse grows worse. Fuuuuck... If that really was a scout, then every soldier in the Empire will see killing me as a holy duty.


    But the video rolls on... Not in the least embarrassed by the words in the sky I enquire:


    "Do we have anything stronger left to drink?"


    "No, Yarl. We drank everything. Only the Beer-river''s left."


    "This suuuucks. But wait a sec, Dis, didn''t you say something about a castle? Maybe there''s something fiery and drinkable there?"


    "Yes. An abandoned castle, presumably cursed. The locals say that everybody died. And the curse was lifted. Presumably."


    "And who was in the castle pre-curse?"


    "Presumably, dwarves."


    "Yeesssss! Dwarves is good! Dwarves mean moonshine! How far is it?"


    "Two-three miles upstream. At the very edge of the forest."


    The camera turns to show the bank of the river littered with punch-drunk and hungover vikings mixed with mermaids. With the mast of the drakar sticking out of the river of beer.


    "Then prepare for a siege!"


    "Ummm..."


    "Go on! Wake them up, slap them around, and to battle!"


    "But the castle''s empty..."


    "Presumably! Fuck it! We''ll always find someone''s ass to kick."


    "Hail to the Yarl!"


    The twenty people left sort of hail.


    End of transmission.


    Finally! The last chapter of this insane vlog! It was filmed by Louie.


    The image is very shaky. A hoard of drunk-ass vikings is making its best attempt to run along the bank of the river, carrying about ten of their comrades, who weren''t able to wake up, and me upon a shield. I''m trying not to spill my drink with one hand, and by holding on for dear life with the other. As well as singing bawdy songs and getting beer all over myself. As a matter of fact, we did find who''s ass to kick. My army merrily assailed a  giant bear and a pack of wolves. The poor animals were searching for a watering hole and were in a drunken frenzy. Daaaamn! I didn''t know you could punch a grizzly''s teeth in! But Dis proved me wrong... All this through the sound of heavy breathing from our priest-cameraman. It seems he was feeling really shitty.


    Finally, the castle comes into view.  I decide that the best thing to do is to turn into my owl form and fly straight at the castle. God knows why. My glorious flight ends in one of the towers. A drunk bird just crashes headfirst into the brick wall just a few feet to the side of a barred window and slowly slides down the face of the castle. A pathetic sight. But my army just rushes straight for the castle gates.  In the courtyard, they are met by a small group of armored dwarven skeletons with huge axes. But my high-level vikings just took them apart and scattered their bones all over the place. We picked the lock of the dungeon door, but as soon as it opened, we were attacked by another twisted necromancer creation -it was a giant snake, made from bones and weapons and pieces of armor. But it is also quickly dismantled for parts this time with the assistance of our dark priest. Finally, I''m carefully picked up, gently carried inside, with the gates thoughtfully closed behind us. Turns out, the gate mechanism works as good as new. Soon I come to.


    "Storm the cellar!"


    "Yes, Yarl!"


    I notice that the mermaids didn''t accompany us, but thankfully it looks like we haven''t forgotten any of my original party members. Prof, Morgen, Oakbreaker, Steve, and Legolas have all been carried in on improvised stretchers. The rest came without assistance.


    After a while, my men roll out barrels of something-something and bring loads of kielbasa. God-damn, I love this game. The defenders of the castle have long since been reduced to bone, but the sausages are fresh as fuck. Or is this a necromancy trick? Hmm, good question...


    The party gets going again, gaining momentum and almost blowing into full swing for the second time. Everybody''s gulping down dwarven moonshine, following it down with beer and kielbasa. I''ve founded an army of monstrous alcoholics. I barely make onto the top of an empty barrel and shout:


    "Listen up!"


    Despite having taken part in tasting the moonshine, Selena throws her jug and hits me square in the face. My limp body is caught gently by Pickle, and he holds me down while Morgen forces four goblets of the firewater down my throat. A wise fucking decision, I''ll give them that. Having made sure of my complete and utter loss of consciousness, Pickle carries me off inside the castle. At the edge of the screen, I see FreakHead crawl into a half-empty barrel of Moonshine...


    What a ride...


    End of transmission.


    I open my eyes and blink a few times. I had like thirty important messages to scroll through. Having noticed my sixtieth level and an option to create a new spell, I stretch my ass off in my fur bed.


    Until the door opened, and Selena walked in.


    "Are you gonna kill me?"


    "Whatever for?" She smiled. She was wearing a hide-bound robe. How in all of creation did she find one in a freaking dwarf fortress??


    "Well, we''ve had our differences, and I was a little drunk..."


    "A little?" Selena raised her eyebrows in disbelief.


    "I mean, a little sober..."


    "But you know, in the end, you were right about one thing..."


    "Yeah?" I was genuinely surprised.


    "We didn''t even have sex yet!"


    "Are you sure about that?"


    "Why you..." Selena jumped onto me, her hips pinning me to the bed, her breasts pressing against me, our lips collided.


    I caressed Selena''s perfect body, sensually bending it while my hands went lower to her hot warmth.


    "Can you.." heavy breathing. "Teach me..." our tongues entangled. "To place hickies?"


    "You don''t know how to leave love bites?" My shirt tears as buttons shoot in every direction.


    "I never seem to get them right."


    "Well, watch and learn. You make them like this..."


    In about three hours, I came down into the courtyard. Grinning with all thirty-two teeth. There I found most of the vikings wandering around pitifully. Unlike the players, the NPC''s still suffered from hangovers. But if I recall correctly, I was feeling pretty shitty myself after that orcish whiskey. I should probably find Elsper to have her patch up the band.


    One of the barrels toppled over as I passed it, and FreakHead rolled out. He was looking miserable as well. I scooped my pet into my hands, thinking about how he would react to traditional healing spells.


    But my thoughts were interrupted by a shout from the top of the castle wall. Huffing and cursing and failing at finding the right ladder, I finally find myself on top. What I saw was jaw-dropping.


    "Fuuuuck me..."


    "Sounds about right..." solemnly added Morgenhand.


    Two hundred thousand soldiers stretched as far as the horizon. Our nameless castle was hopelessly surrounded by the vast Imperial army.

 Chapter 4

    "Fillin, I understand that my question is sort of rude, not very diplomatic and, in a sense, even intimate... But I''ll ask anyway: do you have a plan?" enquired Morgen sullenly watching at the army we were forced to face.


    "Aaah! Don''t shit your pants, man! I''m gonna do this."


    "Do what?"


    "I''m gonna kill em'' all!"


    "Alone?"


    "You bet your ass! Watch this."


    I leaped from the top of the wall morphed into an owl and flew up into the sky. Behind me, I heard a faint: "He can''t be serious?"


    But as soon as I crossed some invisible line, I woke up at the castle respawn point.


    "Well, that was quick... What hit me?"


    "Lightning..."


    "Time for round two!"


    ...


    "What now?"


    "A fire spear..."


    "Okay, I''ll try running."


    I jumped from the wall and ran at the endless wave of enemies with the creepiest facial expression I could muster.


    ...


    "Ummm..."


    "Looked like som telekenetin mumbo-jumbo."


    ...


    "An arrow of darkness."


    ...


    "A giant icicle."


    ...


    "That bush over there, ate you."


    ...


    "A crossbow bolt to the head."


    ...


    "Acid."


    "Yeah, I fuckin'' noticed!"


    ...


    "A water whip."


    ...


    "Heck, if I know, but it looked amazing!"


    ...


    After about three hundred deaths, I got sad.


    "Morgen! I don''t want to play like this anymore! I must be missing something! Like I can''t even get in range to use my spells."


    "Well, what did you expect?! They are an army of well-trained and well-coordinated groups of NPC''s lead be heroes of level hundred and over!"


    "Okay, but why the hell have they stopped like a quarter of a mile away from our castle and are completely ignoring us!? I mean, with an army like that, they would have reduced the whole place to nothing in less than a minute! Or even sooner!"


    "It''s one of the game''s rules. After a stronghold has been captured, it cannot be attacked for five days."


    "Maaaan, I would..."


    "Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know. You''d shit on the laws of physics themselves if you had a chance. But our little, nameless castle is protected by an impenetrable force-field."


    "And now what?"


    "Now they''ll wait for a couple of days, while we soak in the desperation of our situation. The NPC''s will be slaughtered. We will be forced into the res-point. Then they''ll probably incapsulate us and drag us away to torture us for eternity as an example to all the other would-be smart-asses. Okay, eternity is a bit farfetched, but you can easily spend a couple of years in a room flooded with cyanide, and they won''t even break a sweat."


    "Fine, let''s try plan B. Louie! Legolas!"


    "Huh?"


    "Yes, Boss?"


    " Okay, guys, here''s how it''s gonna go. You gotta make a run for it and reach those cowardly fuckers that have surrounded us and kill as many of them as you can. Legolas will be the Tank, Lou - damage''s on you. The main thing we''re hoping for is that the enemy mages will murder themselves in horrific and comical ways by hitting Louie."


    "Fine..." Legolas needed no more explanations. I wonder if he''s ever heard of Dzen-Buddhism? The guy could quickly become a great guru. All he has to do is hum vaguely, smile a lot, and never open his mouth. Bam! We''ll have a wise-ass monk, and we''ll say that he''s taken a vow of silence...


    But I''m distracted from my nontrivial human-resource management by a PM from Louie:


    "A 1000 gold for each attempt!"


    "10! And say hello to your grandma from Israel for me."


    "950, and I don''t have a grandma from Israel."


    "Nah, man, I''m pretty sure you do... 11."


    "Fillin, I am on your payroll, and what you''re having me do is probably gonna hurt! 900!"


    Two hours later.


    "ONE. HUNDRED. AND. FUCKING. TWELVE! And not a gold piece less!" Judging by the expression on his face, Louie was throwing a silent chat tantrum.


    "Sold! Here''s the contract!"


    "If only my granny knew..." Lou broke off: "Hold on, don''t tell me your mom isn''t Jewish."


    "Worse, Louie... I''ve got gypsy in my blood. Once I even sold an Idea for a million bucks."


    "An idea?"


    "Yeup, just an idea. Not a business plan, not a patent, not a firm. An idea."


    "So? Was it a great one? How much money did it make?"


    "That''s the fun part. It sucked. It crashed and burned in a matter of seconds. But the point is that I was really convincing. And also, I have a story running in my family."


    "What story?"


    "My first words when I learned to speak weren''t "mama" or "dada". And not even "BRAINS!"


    "Gimme" Proposed Morgen.


    "Nope, parents said that my first words were: "You will obey". Enough talk. Go forth and wage glorious war. Vence, fetch some beer from the river. And what''s for breakfast? Entertaining you fuckers has given me an unhealthy appetite."


    Our new team-build was a lot more fun to watch.


    Lou and Legolas jumped from the wall, accelerated right before exiting the safe zone, and came under enemy spell-fire. The first one to hit the paladin was something from the school of fire and was made to cover a large area suddenly compressed into a small vortex and disintegrated Legolas. The next one dissipated into a shower of sparks. The third one painted him in a poisonous-green color. The mages began to lose their cool and increased their spell output. And about twenty feet from the squad of knights that were ready to protect the wizards, Lou exploded into green slime.


    Our second attack was almost exactly the same. But this time, our kamikazes were assailed with arrows. And they died a lot closer to home.


    The third was over in a matter of moments. Lou had some plant grow through him and quickly blossomed with beautiful blue flowers.


    On the fifteenth try a spell deflected off our paladin''s legendary shield and utterly demolished an entire band of knights. To my disappointment, they were resurrected in a matter of seconds by the priests.


    "What the hell!? How are we supposed to beat these immortal bastards?"


    After thirty-something deaths, the opposing army decided to engage in a little swordplay, showering out two poor heroes with arrows beforehand. But they were very quick to realize what a big mistake that was. Lou was so pissed off from all the stupid and frustrating deaths that in his burning rage, he looked like a crazed berserker. The blows from his mace and shield sent the poor knights flying in all directions like rag-doll cannonballs. I was really interested in finding out his strength level. The mages panicked and leveled the whole field paladin, soldiers, and all with some sort of mass kill spell. Three mass-kill spells, to be precise. Every single person caught up in the skirmish was killed. But it was soon revealed that our enemies weren''t complete soul-less assholes, so they cast an equally massive resurrection rune.


    Naturally, Lou got up as fast as the rest of them, and the bloody battle continued. And as a result, the raging paladin was taken down and subdued while roaring insults so loud we heard them. As soon he realized how close he was to being taken hostage, the chaos paladin played the ace in his sleeve. He shouted: "DEVINE PROTECTION!" and his body dispersed into a swarm of giant rats. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    After the first hundred suicide runs, our attacks yielded zero results. The enemy mages quit screwing around, and  Legolas and Louie were either squished by telekinesis or swallowed up by the earth instantly. We had to shut down this amusing mini-series.


    We tried throwing spells at them, but they all just bounced off the Imperial Army''s own force bubble. Having lost all of our hope and enthusiasm, everyone wearily went to bed. We had four days left under the game''s protection.


    In the middle of the night...


    "Holy shit! I''ve just had a visit from my Muse!" I jumped from my bed in feverish excitement.


    "A visit from Schizophrenia more like it. Pipe down its five o''clock in the morning!" Selena angrily turned away from me.


    "No! It''s a genius idea! With it, we can definitely win and kill everyone! Selena, wake up! I''m gonna need your help!"


    "Yeah, kill the whole army, enlarge your dick by five inches without surgical intervention, make a fortune and solve the Shmitd-Veysar equation in Eekola''s seventh dimension... Shut the fuck up, Fillin!"


    "But..."


    A hard kick to the chest sent me flying through the window. My landing wasn''t great, and in a few moments, I was looking at my mangled body on the roof of a neighboring building. My bloody left leg began to disappear in bite-sized chunks. Droplets of blood began to rain upon Oakbreaker, who came out to investigate.


    "WAKY-WAKY!" I combined my shout with the Sudden Thought incantation. Several spells and heavy objects flew at me from the windows. The dreary army of Chaos crawled begrudgingly into the courtyard.


    "Selena, why the hell do you go in for the kill first thing?! How about a warning shot?"


    "That was the warning shot! You woke me up, now get to the fucking point! Genius or not, ITS FIVE IN THE FUCKING MORNING!"


    "Okay, I know how to destroy the Imperials. Okbreaker, why don''t we have firearms here?"


    "Cause we don''t need them. Call any mage. Why waste time on anachronisms. Lightning strikes faster, Fire burns just fine, telekinesis works wonders."


    "I guess nobody cares about thermodynamics in here... Okay, who specializes in telekinesis?"


    Turns out, Prof does. I drew my idea on the ground. Prof couldn''t stomach it, so he produced his own scroll of paper and asked me to make a reasonable plan. I was assisted in making the first draft by Oakbreaker and Pickle. Who would have thought! The Ogre turned out to have a degree in science of materials. Everybody spent a few minutes in shock from this merciless cognitive dissonance. And the surprises didn''t end there: Oakbreaker was an engineer in real life.


    Soon our scientific disputes escalated and transformed into a heated rage filled fight. I was sent to the res-point like three times.  Once by Pickle and twice by the Prof.


    The third time I came back to the sight of a marble statue of myself in underpants. So I came to the conclusion that these were the wrong scientists for the right job. What kind of a world would have a respectable teacher tear off the head of his opponent in a dispute about a construction project? All while screaming: "BRUSH UP YOUR FUCKING CALCULUS!"


    Although when I imagined him examining poor students, it brought a smile to my face.


    The first official business meeting of Chaos & Co. Inc ended in a joint decision to send the main investor and CEO to wake up the rest of the mages who crawled back to sleep in the heat of the argument.


    I cowardly sent Legolas to wake up Selena. At the same time, I carefully scratched at Vencer''s door, rigidly standing way behind the door jam. Faust was the least stressful to wake up. He just got up with the routine "What is your bidding, Master?".


    When I came back, the second window in Selena''s room was smashed, Legolas sat drooping at the res-point, and the fire-sorceress was cursing profusely while writing something on the scrolls of paper. I quietly peeked over Prof''s shoulder onto the makeshift table. I was baffled at seeing parchment upon parchment covered in equations and graphs. Jeez-Louise, was this a fantasy game or what? Apparently, Selena had a degree in mathematical sciences.


    In ten more minutes, everybody was shamelessly bossing me around to scour the castle in search of the necessary parts and materials. I, in turn, delegated my duties to anyone I could find.


    Two hours passed, and we had an entire mountain of scrap metal pilled next to the castle wall.


    "And where the hell are we supposed to find Mithril? We need at least twenty pounds!" Selena was digging in the now sorted smaller piles.


    "Maybe we could purchase it on an auction? Fillin, we need several ingots of Mithril. Can you cough up the cash?"


    "What choice do I have? How much do we need?"


    "Three hundred thousand."


    I choked on my tea and spat a mouth full of hot leaf water all over my naked thigh since I didn''t get around to putting on any clothes.


    "Well, we might try Adamantine. We''ll need less of it, but it''s seven or eight times more expensive. And no guarantee that we''ll be able to mold it."


    "Steve! There''s gonna bloody fucking murder!"


    "Wha?" The conjurer stared at me in bewilderment and backed away a little as I advanced.


    "How much adamantine did we leave at that fucking cave?!"


    "A lot..."


    "The fucking MOTHERLOAD, man!! Why the fuck didn''t we sell the stuff!? There was a shit-tone of that god-forsaken highly valuable unscientific stuff!! Two-three tons for sure!"


    "Probably..."


    "FOUR! HUNDRED! MILLION!! FOUR HUNDRED. FUCKING MILLION!! I got away with just a few pounds of the stuff! And gave most of it away for a teleport and my laughable pathetic string!"


    "Wow, Fillin, where are you going?"


    "To cry tears of greed..."


    "Fillin...."


    "What?! Fillin, Fillin! A bad-ass orbital flyer costs twenty-five thousand gold, an apartment in the center of Moscow - ten million! The average wage is a measly thousand! And two pounds of virtual non-existent shit - two-hundred and ten thousand gold pieces!! For those of you who can fucking count, that''s eighteen flyers, and seventeen years of exemplary work! I fucking threw away four hundred million! You can all go fuck yourself and take these pricelists with you!"


    "Fillin..."


    "WHAT!? What are you so eager to tell me, Morgen!? Go on, spit it out!"


    "Remember how you killed my crew and me with the musical instruments when we first met? If I recall correctly, that was the "Any wish" favor. And it costs just a little over ten million..."


    I silently sped up and leaped over the wall. The sight of a naked screaming man demoralized the sentries so much that they didn''t even open fire. About twenty feet from a skittish formation of knights, I snapped my neck and activated the invulnerability. And leaped barehanded into their midst. I think I even offed someone, but I can''t'' be sure since my head was rotated directly backward.


    Excursus 2


    Inside the besieged castle, a band of players was using the schools of fire and telekinesis to create a weapon never-before-seen on this earth. Standing on the bank of a river of beer, it fumed with incantations and spells that created a barrier that was keeping anything alive or dead sealed within. And only in the direction of the field a path was kept open for the advance of the Imperial Army. The loyalist soldiers were waiting for the end of the inviolability of the fortress to end. These were the rules of the game, and few dared to oppose them.


    A man wearing nothing more than his underwear and a sock rushed the army almost every five minutes. Upon crossing the protective barrier, he would commit suicide by snapping his neck, or by jamming a shard of stone into his own temple, become invulnerable and attack the infantry. Those he killed were effortlessly restored, and the soldiers laughed at the futile attempts of an emanation of Chaos to corrupt their spirits.


    The Imperial Army set up camp and was in the middle of the strangest siege in its entire history.