《Fantasy Royale》


 Prologue – A Ghost of the Past

    Prologue ¨C A Ghost of the Past


    I can hear it.


    The stomping hooves of the minotaur closing in on me. I slip into a dark corner of the stone labyrinth, waiting for my prey. I have spent the better part of an hour fighting this monster down here, and my constant hit and run tactics has put a toll on my remaining health and stamina points. Fortunately, the Minotaur himself is near death.


    It won¡¯t be long now.


    The first half of the fight was a cakewalk. The large mass of muscles moves slowly, and his senses are dull. I hit his weak points frequently, slicing the tendons in his ankles and neck. His racial passive [Enraged] kicked in the moment he reached thirty percent health.


    I have been running ever since. Throwing the occasional caltrop behind me or taking potshots with my crossbow. I am running low on consumables, but I only need one good hit to end the fight.


    The stomping of his hooves grows louder. My time to strike nears. I can hear a gust of air exhale from his snout. I take a deep breath to collect myself.


    ¡°It¡¯s now or never.¡±


    I dart out from my hiding place and start swinging my sword. The timing is perfect. The minotaur appears from around the corner while I¡¯m mid-swing. The raging monster charges forward as he notices a sharp glint appearing in the corner of his vision. The tip of the blade easily slices into his flesh, only momentarily slowed by the resistance of his resilient muscles. My sword exits on the other side, releasing a soft gurgling sound as the the blood starts flowing.


    The minotaur¡¯s blood red eyes widen in shock for a short moment while his brain tries to comprehend what just happened. However, it¡¯s already too late. Strength leaves his body as he falls to his knees. I tighten the grip on my sword and take a step back. The minotaur stares helplessly at me as I muster whatever strength I have left to thrust the sword straight through the open wound.


    The minotaur lets out a small whimpering sound as he tips over on the ground, lifeless.


    I collapse on the ground. That last thrust cost me my last few points of stamina, and my body suffers the penalty of being unable to move for ten minutes while my stamina bar recharges.


    Exhausted, I release a deep breath.


    That fight took a lot out of me. I mentally open my character¡¯s inventory and check the status of my consumables. My eyes narrow at the sight. ¡°Geez, this was expensive...¡±


    During the fight, I exhausted most of my consumables. I spent a total of 29 health potions, 38 stamina potions, 46 clusters of caltrops, 134 crossbow bolts, 16 haste potions, 12 adhesive potions and 14 throwing knives coated in acid poison. Nearly a hundred gold coins worth of equipment on just one single fight.


    But I did it!


    I freaking did it!


    I solo killed a high-level dungeon boss intended for a group of five people all on my own!


    ¡°WHO¡¯S THE MAN!?¡± I yell. The echo of my bravado reaches far into the labyrinth, although no one is around to hear it.


    A small ding echoes in my mind, signaling the appearance of a system window. The familiar blue translucent screen appears in front of me.


    Congratulations!


    You have slain the ancient heroic boss King Taurus the Red Brute!


    For slaying the boss with a party consisting of *1* player(s), you have been granted more powerful rewards!


    You have been awarded 2¡¯101¡¯200 experience points!


    You have been awarded the legendary item [Horn of the Minotaur King]


    You have been awarded 238 Gold, 76 Silver, 34 Copper


    This window is quickly followed by another message.


    Congratulations!


    For being the first player to kill Taurus the Red Brute single handedly, you have been awarded a unique title!


    Title Received Slayer of the Minotaur King


    And yet another one.


    You have leveled up!


    You are now level 232


    Five unallocated Attribute points have been awarded.


    Not a bad result at all. After a short while, my exhausted debuff ends and I can finally move my character. I jump to my feet and try to find a good angle to view my fresh kill. I can¡¯t leave before I take a decent screenshot after all. My pride as a gamer won¡¯t allow it.


    Half a minute later, with a satisfied grin on my face, I prepare myself to leave.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    I extract a single-use teleportation stone from my inventory, gently placing it at the ground in front of me. I start the 10 second channeling sequence before the stone starts to pulse with power. A wild torrent of blue mana encompasses my body, swirling like a maelstrom.


    A couple of seconds later the scent of the dusty labyrinth is replaced by salty water. My vision clears as I stare out at a vast blue ocean.


    ¡°Honey, I¡¯m home!¡± I chuckle at my own dry joke. It feels good to be back though.


    My teleport point is located at the docks of the capital city. A fresh breeze washes over me, allowing my tense muscles to finally relax. I look out towards the ocean while a sad smile crosses my mouth.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to miss this place¡­¡±


    With a heavy heart, I turn and head towards the city core. Empty merchant stalls and taverns greet me along the way. The occasional NPC and stray player walks by every now and then, but they don¡¯t say anything. There is definitely a sullen gloom hanging above the city.


    Only a year ago, these very streets were bustling with activity. Adventurous players and boisterous NPC merchants filled the streets as loud cheers and laughs could be heard for miles away. The current state of the city is quite the opposite. It reminds me more of a ghost town.


    I stop in front of a rundown tavern. Its doors are nailed shut. The wooden walls could need some paint and a few glass windows are broken. I let my fingers glide along a dusty plank barring the door.


    This used to be my favorite tavern. I met my first friend in this place, and many of my best adventures started here. Now it¡¯s closed for business, like most player frequented establishments.


    This game is dying.


    Yggdrasil Online used to be the most popular Virtual Reality Massive Multiplayer Online game, or VRMMO for short. Tens of millions of players once called this game home, but now it¡¯s only a shell of its former self. Only a couple thousand players log in every day now, whereas most migrated to newer and better games. Nobody cares about this relic. The game was one of the first of its kind to hit the markets. Players rejoiced at the realistic scenery and splendid gameplay. But like most games, newer and better games were eventually made and the masses moved on.


    I don¡¯t even know why I¡¯m clinging to this game myself sometimes. Perhaps it¡¯s because I for the first time in my life felt like I mattered. People treated me like an equal, and we shared laughs in spite of real life appearance, accomplishments and social status. We were all just mere players, with a common interest in gaming. It¡¯s the sort of harmony I have craved all my life. Sometimes I wonder if I keep playing this game just because of sentimentality alone. My friends have all moved on. I feel like a ghost of the past.


    ...


    I do like it here though.


    No matter what I feel, I soon have to find myself a new pasture. The servers are scheduled to shut down this very evening. This means that my character, the testament to my memories, will be wiped clean.


    I keep on walking until I reach the city plaza. The plaza used to be filled with merchant stalls, and it was the main area in the city for players to find a party to adventure with. Now the place is desolate. At the center of the plaza stands a large fountain made out of marble. It¡¯s one of the city¡¯s main landmarks. At the top of the fountain, three statues form a ring. A human, an elf and a dwarf are holding hands facing one another. Smiles of friendship and comradery on their faces. It¡¯s truly a marvelous sight.


    I walk up to the fountain and sit down on a bench at the edge of the pool. I stretch my arms and let out a comfortable yawn. My eyes slide shut and my body relaxes. The virtual sun gives me a warm sensation on the skin. It¡¯s a delightful feeling.


    ¡°Hey there stranger! Is this seat taken?¡± My eyes shoot open. I tilt my head to the side and notice a human player. His avatar is of an older gentleman. He is bald as an eagle with a thick white beard, sporting a full plate mithril armor with a shield strapped to his back and a hammer resting at his hip. I activate my analyze skill and the blue transparent window appear.


    Theocles - Champion of the Light


    Guild: Sun Crusaders


    Level: 245


    HP: 37732 ¨C MP: 22374 ¨C SP: 33687


    Race: Human


    Class: Paladin


    ¡°Hooh¡­ Champion of the Light, eh? I would be honored to be seated next to a paladin of the famous Sun Crusader guild.¡± I smile at the man.


    ¡°Cheeky kid.¡± The man laughs while taking a seat next to me. ¡°The pleasure is mine, getting to enjoy the last few hours on the server with the famed Solo-Butcher.¡± He grins.


    I let out a laugh. ¡°Can¡¯t say I ever liked that nickname.¡±


    He laughs. ¡°Not flattering enough for you kid?¡±


    I raise my eyebrow. ¡°Sounds rather crude, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°I suppose so¡­ but from the videos online, the battles you fought were far from pretty.¡± The old paladin chuckles.


    ¡°Got the job done didn¡¯t it?¡± I shrug while revealing a small grin of my own.


    ¡°Can¡¯t argue with that!¡± He roars with laughter.


    We sit there smiling a bit in peace, taking in the atmosphere. The old man pulls out a couple of tankards of ale and hands me one. The cold ale feels very refreshing. I¡¯m lucky I met another kind soul to keep me company these last few hours.


    ¡°So how did you get that fancy title?¡± I eventually ask the man. [Champion of the Light] is a very rare title only a few players ever managed to achieve.


    A smile appears on the old man¡¯s face. He begins to tell a tale of his guild and how they fought a high level necromancer in a cursed crypt at the base of the Cyrene Mountains. The battle was tough and his entire raid fell. Being the sole man standing, the old man managed to pull off one of his most powerful smite abilities and vanquish his foe. He received the title after completing a set of very specific conditions he was unwilling to reveal, but I keep trying to wiggle the information out of him.


    We sit there trading stories for a while. The old man tells tales of his guild¡¯s most challenging raids, and I tell stories of the bosses I fought on my own.


    The hours pass by.


    ¡°¡­ and that¡¯s when I decided to hold my last stand against the bull. I went for a power slash around a corner for the sneak attack bonus¡­¡± I lift my arms, pretending to hold a sword in my hands.


    ¡°¡­ then I followed up with a power thrust to his exposed wound. I reckon I wouldn¡¯t have made it without getting a double critical hit!¡± I finish of the story of my latest battle. The old man sits on the edge of his seat, captivated by my recital of what probably was my toughest fight yet.


    ¡°Splendid! I wish I could have witnessed such a fight!¡± He roars, his glee apparent on his face.


    ¡°I¡¯ll upload the video later. I can send you the unedited feed if you¡¯d like?¡± I usually never offer up the raw footage of my fights, since I don¡¯t like to reveal my strategies in depth. My unique strategies is what earned me my fame in the first place. I am going to make an exception for this old man though. He is a good guy and I feel like I can trust him. The game will end soon anyway, so it¡¯s not like my combat style have any value anymore.


    My smile slowly withers.


    ¡°That¡¯d be great!¡± His smile is radiating with joy, unaware of my shifting mood. The look on his face reminds me of my own from when I received my very first gaming console as a kid.


    Good times¡­


    ¡°Aah, but look at the time! I gotta head off kid. It¡¯s been a pleasure!¡± The old man says.


    ¡°Is it? A pity, I enjoyed your company Theocles. Perhaps we will meet again in another game?¡±


    ¡°Please, call me Theodore. And I sure hope so kid.¡± The old man waves his hand. A bright white light flashes from his location. He is gone. Logged off.


    I stand up and do another light stretching.


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll head off as well.¡± I mutter.


    ¡°So long Yggdrasil¡­ thanks for everything.¡±

 Chapter 1 – Nostalgia

    Chapter 1 ¨C Nostalgia


    ¡°Ah, shit. That hurts.¡± I rub the bridge of my nose. The sharp smell of the cheap vodka I drank last night assaults my nostrils.


    ¡°I am never drinking again¡­¡±


    Disgruntled, I raise myself into a sitting position. A throbbing headache and a dehydrated throat is all I¡¯m left with after my late night mourning. I didn¡¯t make it any better when the bad dreams started again. The all too familiar dream of finding myself in a dark hole, all alone, losing everything I hold dear. My body, my memories¡­ my mother¡­


    The bad dreams have increased in frequency lately, and I¡¯m starting to feel the effect it has on me.


    I shake my head. I¡¯m not going to go down that mental path again. Not today.


    The rain falls heavily on my window. I just know this is going to be one of those days. You know which ones I mean.


    After flipping a light switch, I raise my eyelids and get a good view of my room. There isn¡¯t much to look at, considering I have led a spartan sort of lifestyle these last few months. I own so few household items, some might think I¡¯m one of those Buddhist monks. Perhaps I should get myself one of those orange pajamas. They look comfortable¡­


    My eyes are still hazy, but I try to accustom them to the light. I live in a single one room studio apartment, with a shared bathroom. Except for a mattress in a corner, I only own a few basic pieces of furniture. There is a small second hand dining table at the center of the room alongside an old plastic garden chair. You know, the cheap kind you see refugees sit in on the UNICEF aid commercials. I don¡¯t even know why I still got the old thing. I think I picked it up from somewhere when I was blackout drunk some time.


    Anyway. That¡¯s not important. The important thing is¡­ well¡­ I suppose it isn¡¯t important at all actually.


    I reflexively move my hand to the side of my mattress. My hand grabs a familiar dark metal helmet. The chilling touch of the carbon based material comforts me. My fingers gently fiddle with a few tubes protruding from the helmet as I let my gaze linger on the device for a few seconds. It¡¯s my most cherished item after all. My reason to live.


    Why would I cherish this odd little helmet so much? I can¡¯t really describe why it means this much to me. I suppose it¡¯s what allows me to escape it all.


    The helmet is a high tech recreational device, allowing a person¡¯s mind to experience a wide array of sensations.


    The device is what one would call a Full Immersion Virtual Reality Helmet, or FIVR for short.


    I¡¯m not a tech kind of guy, so I¡¯m not the correct person to explain how the thing actually works. I¡¯m going to give it a shot though. And just so you know, I don¡¯t even know if this explanation is medically, or even physically correct. I¡¯m not a scientist. I just read a lot of forum posts on the internet.


    In contrast to the classic virtual reality devices, this full dive helmet isn¡¯t limited to manipulating one or more senses by use of external sensual stimulation. The helmet connects directly to the brain waves themselves. The result is that the helmet can stimulate a person¡¯s sensory perception. By stimulating the brain in a specific way, you can trick the brain to think it is experiencing something that isn¡¯t real.


    Exactly how this works is superficially simple. Imagine that instead of watching a movie through a monitor, the device will allow you to enter the movie itself. By doing this you can in effect observe the actors from every conceivable angle, smell the shampoo in their hair and feel the wind on your face. All this from the comfort of your own home. It is really a marvelous piece of technology.


    The technology is so far ahead of the traditional technology, it¡¯s mind boggling. When you are connected to the helmet, it is possible to experience a wide array of sensations instantaneously. Without any delay. That means you can connect to the device and control it with your mind as easily as you can control your very own limbs. The potential for this technology is limitless. It is like you can live your life in a computer simulated program, with full sensual stimulation, with the ability to modify or enhance your body with no risk of harming yourself.


    Really. Why would you even bother with real life?


    I have already stopped trying.


    This technology was initially developed to allow for paralyzed people to interact with others on a physical level. The potential of this technology however, was quickly adopted by the entertainment industry.


    The first purely recreational programs released for the device are obvious.


    Pornography. Big surprise!


    News programs, sports and movies quickly followed this, before eventually, the gaming industry had its piece of the cake.


    My favorite game of all time, Yggdrasil Online was one of the first games released for the full immersion virtual reality device. Alas, like so many of its ancestors, the game died of old age. The servers shut down last night.


    I can feel a knot tie in my chest.


    The game is¡­ was¡­ everything to me. I spent most of my free time for nine years immersing myself in the huge virtual world. I could spend weeks just walking around, taking in the sights of a fully fleshed out fantasy world. I can still remember the joy of riding across the orc highlands of Tar¡¯Ok and delving into the deep mines of the Dwarven Mountains of Magnia. I will never forget fighting the terrors of the deep sea in the Great Coral Reefs. So many fond memories¡­


    And I won¡¯t ever get to experience that world again.


    I sit on the mattress for an unknown length of time. Just staring at the helmet beside me.


    I reach out and grab a tablet-pc that rests on top of a pile of old clothes. Turning it on, I am soon greeted by the last webpage I visited before I passed out. I was looking at a news article listing all the most anticipated upcoming games for the FIVR Helmet. A few of them caught my attention, but one in particular stood out.


    Fantasy Royale.


    The game promises to deliver an intense high-stake player versus player combat oriented strategy role playing game experience.


    I know. It¡¯s quite a mouthful. I had to read it twice.


    In layman terms, I would describe it as a game where a lot of players are all crammed into a game world where they all get to command and manage their own fantasy themed settlement. The settlements¡¯ populations are all individual artificial intelligence entities. This means they are advanced computer programs that simulate real people, but are not accessible to the players. Gamers refer to them as Non-Playable Characters, or NPCs for short.


    After creating and cultivating a settlement, you must command the NPCs to combat other players and their NPC minions, making for some epic battles for supremacy.


    I already have visions of myself as an armor-clad king of a medieval army, launching thousands of troops at my enemies by making a simple hand gesture.


    This game is just perfect for me.


    A pity I won¡¯t get to play it.


    The marketing of the game is the most unique stunt I have ever seen being pulled by a game developer. Never before has so many players been enthralled by a game idea, and everyone wants to play it.


    Literally, everyone!


    However, the game developers¡­ They won¡¯t just let anyone play. No, they are actually only letting an incredible small amount of players play it. Cherry picked by the developers themselves.


    Why would they do such an odd thing?


    To explain that, I have to point out a few key specific requirements.


    First of all, all players only get one life. The game mode is set as a battle royale, where all players start at an equal footing, and the game isn¡¯t over until you either win, or die. One simple slip up or a moment of distraction or hesitation can mean one dreadful thing; Game over.


    The crowd goes wild over this point. The free for all battle royale mode has been the peoples favourite kind of entertainment since the roman empire. The sight of countless gladiators fighting one another until only one is left standing. The victor who stands above all others. The champion who wins the heart of the crowd by magnificent displays of their superiority. What better recipe can one have for creating true entertainment?


    Genius.


    The second requirement is a bit more dull. Every contestant will have to travel to the Game Developers Headquarters. Here they will enter gaming capsules designed for long time immersion. These capsules haven¡¯t even hit the market yet. A fact that is thrilling in itself. The problem is, most people can¡¯t just uproot their lives to spend weeks, months or even years at a time playing a game.


    So what would make everyone want to play the game regardless? That is of course: The money.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The third and most detrimental requirement of them all is that all players have to pay a hefty sum to be able to compete. A whooping entrance fee of twenty thousand euros deter most people from even attempting to sign up for the competition. This limits the game to only the wealthiest of players, or the most dedicated ones.


    An interesting game concept however, isn¡¯t enough to convince people to invest both their time and their money into a game they hardly know anything about. The real kicker of the deal is that the winner takes it all. Yeah, you heard me. The winner of the round gets to keep every single euro the other players spent to play the game. The developers doesn¡¯t keep any of it.


    So, how do they make any money?


    Exclusive broadcasting rights of course. The entire game will be televised for the masses. With hundreds of players battling it out in a stunning fantasy setting, there is no short supply of entertainment material. The marketing budget for the game is insane. There are commercials everywhere. The internet is overflowing by it! It has already been announced that the developers are sponsoring several celebrities to compete in the game.


    It is really a stroke of genius by the game developers. Combining the people¡¯s interest for prizes, violence, celebrities and reality TV; fantasy-edition. It¡¯s a recipe for instantaneous popularity. People of all ages, genders, intellectual- and socioeconomic classes unite in their interest to watch this game. I wouldn¡¯t have thought it possible to hit every single target group out there, but these guys did it. Brilliant bastards.


    One thing is surprising though. There has been a lot, and then I mean A LOT of advertising of the game and the game concept, but there has hardly been any information released about how the game really works. People are scratching their heads from left to right trying to decipher what the game mechanics are.


    There has been a lot of general information about the game release, like what sort of races will be available to play, but there is no mention about what their strengths and weaknesses are. The game boasts of having over a hundred different fantasy races, and each one offers a unique play style. How does someone balance that? What is the numerical values of each and every race? What is¡­ GAAAH!


    I have so many questions about this game, and the game developers give me nothing. NOTHING. It¡¯s frustrating as hell!


    The secret behind my success at being a solo dungeon diver at Yggdrasil Online is mostly thanks to my ability to plan my every move thoroughly. Maximizing my efficiency by use of information and the numerical values of my available resources. How can the fact that I know there will be trolls and gnomes in the game help me when there is no way to know how the little guy will beat the big guy?


    An image of Bilbo Baggins shoving a hellfire missile up Smaug¡¯s nostril passes my mind.


    Tssk, annoying.


    There is no point in getting annoyed about the game mechanics of a game I won¡¯t get to play anyway I guess. I refresh the page to see if any new information has been added while I slept.


    The site updates and a fresh interview with one of the lead developers appears at the top of the site. My eyes widen for a moment when I see the number of views on the interview already. It¡¯s already in the millions! And it has only been an hour since it was posted! The interest for this game is enormous.


    I quickly tap play.


    The smile of a beautiful woman reveals itself on my monitor. The woman appears to be in her mid-twenties, with the body of a supermodel. She has long curly blond hair, bright blue eyes, smooth white skin and an ample bosom. Any man¡¯s first impression of this woman would be that she got the job purely because of her looks, and it¡¯s not too far off to assume her brain size only matches the tiny piece of cloth that makes up her dress.


    The truth is far different. Amanda Hemingway is a shrewd journalist, who, despite her age, has accomplished far more than most journalists would during the entire span of their careers. Some suspect her good looks is only a tool for her to gain information. I¡¯m the first to admit I would probably give her the pin number for my bank account if she asked¡­


    Oh, I¡¯m getting off track.


    Amanda is sitting in a chair across from a slightly overweight man, who has a full bundle of curly brown hair with a matching wild beard. It appears the man has never has even heard about the concept of a comb. It is the sort of look only a successful programmer could pull off.


    His small gray eyes spit life into his youthful grin which is wide enough to outshine even a Jehovah¡¯s witness who got past your entrance door. The man is Logan Andrews, the lead designer and creator of Fantasy Royale.


    Amanda¡¯s head turns towards the camera, her long blond hair swaying as she move.


    ¡°Good evening everyone and welcome to Fantasy Now! The official broadcast channel of any news regarding the upcoming release of Fantasy Royale. Tonight we have a special interview lined up for you.¡±


    She winks at the camera.


    ¡°I¡¯m sitting here today with Logan Andrews, lead designer and creator of Fantasy Royale.¡± She pauses only for some background applause. Logan takes his time waving to the crowd, his youthful eyes beaming.


    ¡°Mister Andrews¡­¡± Amanda starts after the applause settles down. Her eyes are fixated on Logan. I can see her straightening her torso ever so slightly to amplify the effect of her cleavage. She is good.


    ¡°Word from SinTech Entertainment is that there is only a few spots left for the contestants, is this true?¡±


    Logan straightens his back. ¡°Yeah, most spots have already been filled, but there is a handful of spots left open. I will personally make the final selection over the next coming days.¡±


    Amanda perks up. ¡°Can we expect the spots to be reserved for some last minute celebrities?¡± She keeps good control over her tone of voice, but I suspect she is about ready to burst from excitement. Amanda must be a gamer by heart. My kind of gal.


    ¡°Maybe, who knows? Anything can happen at this point. I aim to make the show as interesting as possible.¡± Logan shrugs, leaning comfortably back in his chair.


    Sensing there isn¡¯t any more information to gather here, Amanda smoothly switches over to a new topic.


    ¡°There has been quite an uproar on the forums lately among the core of the gaming community about the lack of information on the game¡¯s mechanics. I myself am dying to see the specifics of the Pixie race. Are SinTech Entertainment planning on releasing any new information before game launch?¡±


    Logan¡¯s smile widens. I have no idea how that is anatomically possible.


    ¡°Please, call me Logan. All that formality is giving me the shivers.¡±


    They smile warmly at one another. ¡°Sadly dear, the investors won¡¯t let me reveal much I¡¯m afraid. You know, to keep things fair for the contestants.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Amanda asks.


    Logan scratches his beard. ¡°Well, you know¡­ some of the contestants have really deep pockets, and releasing too much data about the game mechanics for the public gives them an unfair advantage. We have seen countless times before how professional organizations gather and analyze data in a very short time. This would allow for some of the players to have an advantage before the game even starts.¡±


    ¡°Interesting, so it¡¯s a way for you to even out the playing field for everyone?¡± Amanda is leaning in forward. She can smell a scoop.


    ¡°Well yeah, that¡¯s the official statement on the matter¡­¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be so kind as to reveal just a tiny bit of flavor about how the game works for us would you?¡± Amanda presses on. Logan starts grinning again.


    ¡°Haha, of course my dear. Between you and me, it just makes things much more interesting doesn¡¯t it? Make the players take a chance! Choose and play a race you really want to play based on your guts, and not the one you think will give you an edge. Unknown strengths and weaknesses can make players take a chance on any race, and some players will definitely find a hidden gem, while others¡­ others will not be so lucky.¡± He winks.


    ¡°Fascinating¡­¡± Amanda lowers her shoulders. ¡°But tell me, won¡¯t there be some obvious choices? How can a hobbit hope to ever be able to match the strength of an ogre?¡±


    Logan leans in closer. His face only inches away from Amanda¡¯s.


    ¡°The same way any weak side throughout history has beaten stronger foes. Tactics and numerical advantage.¡±


    Holy crap!


    I can feel a shiver crawl down my spine. Did I just hear him right? That sounds¡­ AWESOME! He was being sort of vague about it all, but he definitely just hinted that there is a deep tactical aspect that transcends any expectations I had about the game!


    I WANT TO PLAY THIS GAME SO BAD!


    I¡¯m shaking. Shit. This game¡­ Shit. Fuck. Why did they make this game when I don¡¯t get to play it? The game is such a tease¡­


    The rest of the interview continues in the background about upcoming events and profiling of the celebrities that will join the game.


    Personally, I¡¯m too riled up to pay any attention. I can¡¯t believe this¡­ I sigh. Now I¡¯m getting depressed again¡­


    Oh well. I can¡¯t sit here all day reading up on a game I won¡¯t get to play.


    I get out of bed and prepare for work. The adrenaline from before is quickly draining from my system and the somber mood soon creeps into my very soul once more.


    I take a quick shower before I get dressed. For clothes, I wear the same black hoodie and jeans I do every day. My imagination isn¡¯t exactly top notch in the clothing department. I enter my equally spartan looking kitchen and grab the same dry slices of bread I eat every damn day. I soon have to leave.


    My mood is hitting rock bottom.


    With the rapid modernization process of modern society, a large portion of the population have been rendered obsolete. Further and further automatization processes creates an ever increasing rise in unemployment.


    In the early 2000¡¯s, the unemployment ratio around Europe was lingering around four to ten percent of the population. Not too bad in reality. This was easily sustainable levels for most societies. A couple of decades later however, when we developed our first artificial intelligences and affordable robots, society was thrown over itself. In just ten years, the rate of unemployment had risen to a staggering thirtyfive percent of the population.


    Jobs became harder and harder to come by, and a race for higher education began. Naturally, most people don¡¯t have the ability to become nano-engineers or neuroscientists, and this creates a clear divide among us. The ones who didn¡¯t get to attain a higher education became bottom feeders of our society. Society¡¯s surplus. Human trash.


    Oh, I¡¯m one of those by the way.


    My life¡­ well my life has really been a mess.


    I never liked attending school and wasted my years playing video games and procrastinating like the best of us. I¡¯m not trying to make excuses, but my life fell apart when my mom died on me at my eighteenth birthday.


    My mom and I didn¡¯t live a life in luxury. She had a decent job working as a quality-inspector at a local robotics factory. She didn¡¯t have a fancy degree, but one wasn¡¯t needed to check if all the computer chips had the correct shapes and all the little lamps were blinking. We weren¡¯t wealthy, but we got by well enough. We were happy.


    And it all ended the day my mom got hit by a drunk driver who was driving a non-automated car veered off the road and hit her while she was waiting for the bus.


    And how was an eighteen year old kid who hadn¡¯t even started college yet supposed to cope with that shit?


    Surprisingly well actually...


    With me just having come of age, and suddenly left all by myself, the world around me started to come apart. I had to sell the apartment, as I couldn¡¯t afford the down payments. I had to sell everything we had. Every memory I had of my mother and my own upbringing; sold. For a few measly Euros.


    The only thing I had left was twenty thousand euros, a bag of clothes and my FIVR helmet. Homeless, alone and devastated.


    I managed to find a small studio apartment, which I now rent. I haven¡¯t bothered buying any furniture apart from the dining room table, a microwave oven and the mattress. Can¡¯t say I need it. I spend my days at work and my evenings immersed in Yggdrasil Online. And now I can¡¯t even do that anymore.


    The sound of water pouring down the window is all I hear while I tie my laces. I put on my standard timeworn gray jacket while I reach for my umbrella.


    Can this day even get any worse?


    Well¡­ time to stay positive. I struggle a little, but I pull my facial muscles into some perverted kind of smile. Perhaps Richard died?


    ¡­


    Maybe. That¡¯d be great.


    The small embers of my positive thinking shine weakly as I walk to the bus stop.

 Chapter 2 – Rage

    Chapter 2 ¨C Rage


    Stepping off the bus, I¡¯m standing in front of the skyscraper of my place of work. A tall building of glass and solar panels looms above me. This is the place the high end law firm I am working at has their offices.


    Obviously, I¡¯m no lawyer... I¡¯m a coffee boy. More of a slave actually. I spend all day walking around with a tray, mixing cappuccinos and lattes for all the pompous lawyers raking in money at the little guy¡¯s expense. Normally, I wouldn¡¯t even be able to do this job. Automated coffee robots are already a popular job stealing offer out there which most companies use. The high-end firm I¡¯m working at only employs a flesh-and blood coffee slave because it¡¯s a sign of status. Who doesn¡¯t like having some poor servant beneath you to make yourself look better? It¡¯s a shitty job, made even shittier by the people working there.


    I wish I could quit. But no. I need a job, and I won¡¯t get another job anywhere else. I was incredibly lucky just getting this job, and I need a way to finance my gaming interests. Social welfare sadly doesn¡¯t cover much. Especially not the upkeep of my FIVR gaming system.


    Don¡¯t get me wrong, the job shouldn¡¯t be too bad. It¡¯s easy to do, and most people here hardly even notice I¡¯m around.


    The problem however, is a select few over privileged assholes.


    God¡­ I hope I don¡¯t run into them today¡­


    I enter the building from a service entrance at the back. Obviously, I¡¯m not worthy enough to enter from the front like everyone else. Got to mind my station and all that.


    I quickly change into my work uniform and fetch my good old coffee tray. I pack myself into an overcrowded service elevator along with a few other poor souls and start my ascent to the top. It¡¯s time for my work day to begin.


    As I exit the elevator, I find myself at the far back of a large lobby. Exotic flowers line the walls and the lamps have a nice 1800¡¯s antique look to them. The flooring and walls are all built with the finest imported oak from Germany, and a few marble columns are strategically located in every archway and corner. The spacious lobby doesn¡¯t have too much furniture, and a lone receptionist sits behind the only desk in the room.


    The girl doesn¡¯t even bother to look up as I pass her.


    I can¡¯t blame her. She knows she can¡¯t be seen talking to me. I¡¯m an undesirable. She is just looking out for her best interest.


    Kenworth, Goldman & Simmons is a large law firm that caters to the elite in London. They only hire the best lawyers available and there is a strict requirement that they must all have graduated from Oxford Law with top grades. The top grades aren¡¯t that important if you are rich and connected enough however.


    Luckily, a nobody like me don¡¯t grab too much attention from the bigwigs of the firm. I serve their coffee quickly and efficiently before I fade into the background. Unseen, unwanted until my services are required. The child in me sometimes compare myself to a top level rogue or assassin. Have to spend my idle time doing something, don¡¯t I?


    Life here wouldn¡¯t be so bad really¡­ it certainly didn¡¯t use to be. The current problem is a certain quintet of pure evil that haunts my life as often as they can.


    ¡­


    Tssk.


    Fucking brats¡­


    I have worked here for about five years, and the torment has lasted for just about two.


    As fate would have it, the children of all the named partners of the firm are all about my age, and naturally started working for their parents as soon as they finished college. Normally they wouldn¡¯t give two shits about me, but my optimism and pure naivete managed to get myself onto their shitlist. Well, mainly the shitlist of the main culprit of the group; Richard Kenworth, or Dick, as I like to call him.


    I scamper along the corridors and start my daily routine. My inner voice prays that Richard is off on some meeting with a client somewhere, too busy to torment me.


    Of course, with my luck today, I can spot him down the corridor, leaning over a desk talking to his secretary. Why that asshole even needs a secretary is beyond me, but it¡¯s all about status I guess.


    His back is turned to me, so he hasn¡¯t noticed me yet. I slow my approach and try to sneak past him as silently as I can. It nearly works too, until that bitch of a secretary calls me out.


    ¡°Hey you, Coffee boy. Why don¡¯t you be a dear and get us some lattes?¡± I freeze in my path and I can feel my stomach dropping. I slowly turn my head towards her. A fake smile plastered on my face.


    ¡°Certainly miss. Anything for the gentleman?¡±


    The girl is grinning at me. It isn¡¯t the nice kind of grin of course. It¡¯s the kind of grin a sociopath would have after lighting kittens on fire.


    God I fucking hate that bitch.


    Her name is Eva Shepard, a natural part of Richard¡¯s entourage. She is the only one in the group without a fancy degree, but she makes up for it with her stunning good looks and rotten personality. The only reason she gets to hang out with these rich douchebags is because Richard has taken a liking to her. Whether it¡¯s because of her giant tits or her matching sociopathic personality, I wouldn¡¯t know. I suppose her life goal is being a trophy wife or something.


    Oh, and did I mention she is the reason I¡¯m being physically and mentally tortured every god damn fucking day?


    No? Well as I mentioned earlier, it all started shortly after Richard started working here. With a new and shiny uniform, a polished coffee tray and a genuine smile on my face, I started my very first day of hell. There had been a very cute and young secretary there who had started flirting with me. Guess who? Well, as any sane man would do in this situation, I started chatting her up. Putting my moves on her as they say. The girl was smiling at me, laughing at my dry jokes and started to play with her long golden hair. Things were going good.


    Little did I know this was all just some sick ploy from her to make Richard jealous. She had had her eyes on him for some time and knew he fancied her a little. She just needed to push him along to catch him in her little web.


    And the poor sucker that was to be the instrument in this plan was obviously the naive coffee boy.


    Her plan worked perfectly for her, and Richard immediately started a crusade to torture me to such a high degree that I would quit on my own.


    I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s my natural stubborn personality, hate for bullies or my love for financing my life as a gamer, but I¡¯m still hanging on to this day.


    Long story short, the torture kept on strong and he recruited along the rest of his devils group as soon as they started working. There are five of those spawns of Satan now, but none of them can hold a candle to king and queen Lucifer.


    Which brings us back to the present.


    As my presence has been revealed, Richard turns and faces me. He greets me with a warm smile. He manages to hide his sadistic tendencies much better than Eva, but he is also far more cruel.


    ¡°Coffee Boy! I am so glad to see you! Add some extra milk in mine if you would be so kind, I feel a little peckish.¡± He gently rub his stomach while faking a frown.


    ¡°Certainly Sir.¡± My jaw clenches and I slightly bow my head. Silently wishing I could just punch him in the face.


    I start working on their orders, moving my hands in a quick and efficient manner. The product of experience culminated after doing the same thing for five years straight. The two watch me silently as I mix the coffee and milk. Just like always. I suppose they want to make sure I don¡¯t add some of my spit. Believe me, I have considered it.


    Just as I finish their order I pick up the two cups and am about to hand them over to them. They just grin smugly at me.


    ...


    Shit.


    A heavy step behind me makes me twist my head backwards. Too late. A large force crashes into me and I fall forwards. The coffee flies everywhere, but mainly on me. My face impacts the persian rug and I can hear a nasty crunching noise from my nose. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    It hurts.


    ¡°Oy! Watch it Coffee Boy.¡± A burly voice booms from behind me. Panting, I roll over and look up at the person that pushed me over. Keith Simmons¡¯ fat face smirks down at me. A two meter tall fat simpleton, and the main perpetrator in the physical torment the quintet is inflicting upon me. This brute is Richard¡¯s own personal henchman. I¡¯m willing to bet my entire life savings that his grades were bought and paid for. He is just too damn stupid, and incapable of following a conversation consisting of sentences more than five words long.


    He is good at hitting stuff though. Mainly me.


    I grit my teeth in frustration. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Sir, my fault entirely. Allow me to clean it up.¡± I learned the hard way a few years ago that being polite and submissive gets me out of trouble sooner rather than later. It hurts my soul though.


    Keith looms above me. Smirking down at me.


    I grab a rag and start wiping coffee off the rug. It doesn¡¯t really help, and I¡¯m just smearing the stain all over it. I keep rubbing it though and try to look busy for long enough for them to lose interest and leave. Like they usually do.


    This is not one of those days however¡­


    Richard got a certain aura about him. And I don¡¯t like it. His facade cracks a little as his grin is far too smug.


    Fuck. This can¡¯t be good.


    ¡°Hey, let me ask you a question. Are you a gamer?¡±


    The question catches me completely off guard. My hand freezes as my eyes climb up to meet Richard¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°No, sir. I can not say that I am, sir.¡± I say in a deadpan voice.


    His smile drops. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me, peasant.¡±


    I stare back up at him, unblinking.


    We both stare one another down. Richard with cold anger, and me with a fake confusion.


    He smacks his tongue. ¡°I talked to your little friends down at maintenance. I know you play¡­ or should i say played, Yggdrasil Online. What¡¯s the matter? You couldn¡¯t afford a proper game?¡±


    I let his taunts glide right past.


    ¡°So tell me. Have you heard about the new game coming out? You know which one I¡¯m talking about.¡± He grins.


    ¡°I am not certain, sir.¡± I give him a flat stare. Where the hell is this guy going with this anyway?


    He smacks his tongue once more. He steps on my hand. A sharp jolt of pain travels up my arm but I remain deathly still. I won¡¯t give him the pleasure.


    Clearly displeased by the lack of reaction he twists his foot, forcing a low grunt of pain to escape my lips.


    He keeps twisting his foot for a moment as I clench my jaw while trying to endure. I finally find reprieve as a high pitched feminine voice echos from down the hall behind me.


    ¡°Disgusting. What is with this mess? Did the servant spill coffee again?¡± The voice says.


    ¡°Pathetic¡­ why don¡¯t you just fire him already?¡± A male voice chimes in from the same direction.


    I know who the owner of these voices are. The final two of my group of tormentors. Peter and Elizabeth Goldman. A couple of twins with the most stuck up attitudes of them all. Both being short of height, with plump faces, crooked noses and curly brown hair they are the least attractive of the group, but also the smartest. Their general arrogance makes them annoying, but also my personal favourites of the group. Mainly because they are usually the ones that grow bored of tormenting me first and leave.


    ¡°Fire him? No. I can¡¯t do that. It¡¯s the kind and successful citizens duty to help the plebs in life. Jobs are important, aren¡¯t they?¡± Richard directs that last question to me while emphasizing the word important.


    Fucker¡­


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know why you bother with him Richard.¡± Elizabeth says.


    ¡°Yeah, he is too far beneath you.¡± Peter shakes his head.


    I try to keep still, hoping my reprieve has arrived at last. My building anger subsides, and the battle between my mind and my body about whether I should beat the living shit out of Richard is coming to and end. It doesn¡¯t help that he is right though. I need this job.


    Elizabeth rolls her eyes. ¡°Whatever¡­¡±


    The twins let out a synchronized sigh and step over to Eva¡¯s desk. They rest their bodies against it and cross their arms. Impatiently waiting for Richard to finish his fun.


    Richard removes his foot and takes a step closer. He gently leans in and speaks with a soft voice.


    ¡°Oh, I am sorry. I didn¡¯t see you had your hand there. Did it hurt?¡±


    I steady my breath. ¡°Not at all, sir. It was my fault entirely. If you would excuse me, I need to go grab a cleaner robot from maintenance.¡±


    ¡°What? Oh no, no need for that. I am certain you can¡­ handle it.¡± He smirks.


    ¡°No really, I must insist sir. If the stain sets¡­¡±


    ¡°Nonsense! We can always buy a new rug. I was growing tired of this one anyway.¡±


    I get an ominous feeling. He usually quits harassing me by now. What is he up to? I don¡¯t think I did anything to garner his wrath today...


    ¡°Right. Let us not get off track. Tardiness is a sin, as my father always says. Where was I?¡±


    I¡¯m not sure I like where this is going. ¡°Ah, of course. We¡­¡± He moves his right hand in a smooth arc, pointing to all his friends. ¡°Are heading away for a year to compete in this new thing called Fantasy Royale. Certainly you have heard about it. That is unless the dirty shack you live in does not have access to the internet?¡±


    I freeze.


    My eyes go doe-wide as I stare at Richard, mouth agape. Am I dreaming?


    I don¡¯t bother looking up and just sit completely still on my knees. It takes a few moments for my brain to process this. The corner of my mouth twitches, and a small smile spreads on my lips. I try to hide it, but It¡¯s too late. Richard noticed.


    Not giving Richard the reaction he was hoping for, he steps on my hand once more, twisting his foot. I¡¯m prepared for it this time, but it doesn¡¯t stop my face from cracking at the excruciating pain.


    Mollified by my pained expression, he resumes his condescending smirk and keeps going.


    ¡°We wish you could come with us of course¡­ A pity you can¡¯t. There is just no room for common rabble at this game for the elite, now is there?¡± The bastard is clearly trying to taunt me. No matter. His attempts are weak. I¡¯ve heard more elaborate taunts coming from the average thirteen year old in a youtube comment section. I¡¯m not going to bite.


    ¡°Would be a pity to see you go, sir.¡± I say from my still bent position on the rug. I am trying to keep my standard monotone voice while replying, but I can¡¯t help but laden my response with a tiny tidbit of sarcasm.


    I have my limits.


    Dissatisfied about me not taking the bait, Richard smacks his tongue. I just wish for him to give up and leave me in peace.


    No such luck. A large flabby hand reaches down from behind and grabs my hair. My head is yanked backwards and I soon find myself face to face with Keith.


    ¡°Show some respect when your betters talk to you, worm.¡± He says. My face involuntarily twitches. Keith really has bad breath. I can see a throbbing vein form on his red face. He grabs the soft tissue in my armpit and squeezes it hard. The sudden pain is nearly too much to bear. I close my eyes and endure it. After what feels like an eternity, the pressure lessens and Richard¡¯s annoying voice fills my ears.


    ¡°Tell me, Coffee boy¡­ Isn¡¯t it impolite not to ask follow up questions when you converse? Didn¡¯t your mother teach you any manners before she died?¡± My whole body tenses. My blood starts pumping and my fists clench. He better not go there...


    I sit quietly, trying to control my breathing. Doing my utmost not to lose my temper.


    ¡°I suppose she didn¡¯t? Pity¡­ I suppose she can¡¯t have been much of a lady anyway... ¡°


    Something in me snaps. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare talk about my mother, asshole!¡± I shout at him before I manage to think it through. Richard¡¯s face contorts into a nasty grimace. The relentless sociopath is about to emerge.


    ¡°What did you say you filthy little creep!?¡± Eva shrieks from behind him. Her eyes wild with rage. Richard just raises his hand to silence her. He doesn¡¯t want anyone to interrupt his fun.


    ¡°Protective of your mother, pleb?¡± He smirks at me. A smile that doesn¡¯t quite reach his dark eyes. I wordlessly stare back, wishing for him to drop dead.


    ¡°Say, I looked through the personnel files earlier when I happened to come across your file¡­¡± He begins. He looks far too satisfied with himself. ¡°And I noticed your last name is Asbj?rnsen. An unusual name that is¡­ Scandinavian is it? Don¡¯t bother answering. Anyhow, it did remind me of one of my father¡¯s old case files¡­¡±


    My body shakes in anger. Where is he going with this?


    ¡°Well I did some digging, and I found it. The state versus Alfred Cornett. Interesting case that was¡­¡± The pieces start to click in my mind. ¡°Seems like Mister Cornett had a few too many one night, and took a ride in his old Bentley. Apparently he ran over a pedestrian. A young single mother, 43 years of age. Sarah Asbj?rnsen.¡± Richard takes a moment to stroke his chin.


    ¡°It turns out mister Cornett is a client of my father, and he got mister Cornett off on a technicality. A shame how that sometimes happen¡­ isn¡¯t it?¡±


    My mind goes blank. I get on my feet and grab Richard¡¯s chest with my left hand. A few of our audience let out gasps of shock as I pull him closer. Our faces are just centimeters apart. My sudden movements surprised Richard and I can see a hint of fear in his eyes.


    ¡°I thought I told you to shut the fuck up?¡± I calmly utter through clenched teeth.


    I proceed to plant my fist into his solar plexus.


    Richard gasps for air and falls to his knees. I release my grip and stare at him. Too angry to move. A part of me just wants to keep kicking him until he stops twitching.


    Soon after, a wild coughing fit strikes Richard as he struggles to breathe. The entire room seems to have frozen in place. Four pairs of eyes stare at me in apparent horror.


    Eva is the first to snap out of it. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you!?¡± She darts forwards, shielding Richard¡¯s wheezing body with her arms. ¡°You¡­ freak!¡±


    My eyes lock onto her. My gaze alone enough to stop her from talking.


    Several people down the hall are peaking their heads out of their offices, trying to find out what all the commotion is about. I don¡¯t care anymore.


    ¡°Someone call security!¡± Elisabeth shouts.


    ¡°Quickly!¡± Peter adds.


    The two twins seem most shocked of all. Unable to quite comprehend how the situation arrived at this point. Their hollow eyes measuring me. Their flight instinct screaming in their head.


    I take a step closer to Richard, expecting Keith to suckerpunch me from behind at any moment.


    I take yet another step, leaning in closer. Eva flinches, sliding herself back and away from Richard¡¯s unprotected body.


    I lower my voice so only Richard are able to hear.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to destroy you, and everything you hold dear you little shit.¡±

 Chapter 3 – Selection

    Chapter 3 ¨C Selection


    ¡°Ah geezez¡­ this is sooo boooring¡­.¡±


    Logan Andrews is laying on sofa, with his feet crossed and hanging over the armguard. His shoulders are slumped and his belly is slipping out beneath his one-size-too-small t-shirt. The man paints a picture of relaxation.


    A few deep furrows can be seen on his forehead as he stares into a tablet PC. The tablet hovers in the air above him. Modern technology is pretty neat as it makes mundane tasks like lifting your portable device as comfortable as humanly possible, albeit a tad expensive.


    He grunts in annoyance as his eyes dance around the monitor. His face contorts and he looks as if he is in deep pain. He is growing restless after having spent far too many weeks cooped up in this place. There is no trace of the youthful grin he displayed during the interview.


    ¡°Mister Andrews, we need to fill the last three spots. Please focus.¡± His assistant pleads. Her voice comes from somewhere behind him.


    ¡°I know, I know¡­ but these people¡­ god. Totally NOT interesting! They¡¯re just¡­ plain¡­ boring¡­ useless¡­ I can¡¯t make a show out of these people.¡± He whines.


    Logan is flipping through a series of images on his tablet. Each one showing a different hopeful applicant. He doesn¡¯t like what he sees however. None of these people are worthy to participate in the virgin round of his mind-baby; Fantasy Royale.


    ¡°You have looked through them twice already Mister Andrews. Please just pick three.¡±


    He drops his tablet pc and lets out a long winded sigh.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather leave those spots open.¡± He makes a pouting face.


    ¡°But mister Andrews¡­¡± The assistant starts.


    ¡°NO! I don¡¯t want any of them! You can¡¯t make me!¡± He swings his arms out wide, one of his signature childish tantrums in the making.


    ¡°But you have to!¡± The assistant shouts, her voice strained from the change of volume. The behavior of her boss is starting to annoy her. Logan lets his shoulders slump in defeat. Kelly is no fun¡­


    He sits up and starts caressing his beard. This greatly pleases him and allows for his thoughts to flow much clearer. There have to be someone interesting out there somewhere.


    ¡­


    Right?


    He lets his eyes wander around the room. His sofa-sanctuary is located in an isolated corner office in a large open office area temporarily turned into a call center. About ten people are staffing the central phone lines for prospecting applicants. There is quite a low number of interviewers, despite the enormous amount of people who have shown interest in the game. Obviously, most applicants are denied even reaching the call center rather quickly.


    To keep the trolls at bay, the applicants have to deposit their starting fee in a secure account before they even get to talk to one of the interviewers. If you don¡¯t get picked, then the money will only be released back to the applicant after the round has started.


    Still, the phones aren¡¯t staying silent for long periods of time.


    Discarding his tablet, Logan gets out of his sofa and takes a walk among the callers.


    ¡°There has to be someone¡­¡± He mutters, more to himself than anyone else.


    The main room of the call center is the symbol of professionalism. Ten straight-sitting men and women wearing gray company suits with a matching headset is sitting two meters apart, forming two rows of five people. A manager walks between them to assist in any of the interviews. Any hopeful applicant has to go through a thirty minute interview. This is done both to gather information about the applicant, and to evaluate their personalities. They have to check if the applicants are fit to be displayed to the public, or among other people.


    You would be amazed at how many insane people there are out there¡­


    Actually, no. You wouldn¡¯t.


    Curious about the process, Logan steps up to one of the staff currently engaged in an interview. He hooks up a spare headset and listens in.


    ¡°Mister Ali.¡± The interviewer starts, unfazed that his boss is currently breathing him down the neck. ¡°How would you best solve a conflict among two of your subordinates?¡± Logan perks up. This is one of his favorite questions after all.


    ¡°I would have security remove them from the premises immediately. I don¡¯t accept insubordination.¡± A deep, but firm voice says on the other end.


    Logan immediately removes his headset. He lets out a deep sigh. ¡°Another let down¡­¡± he mumbles and starts pacing down the rows. The selection round has been a nightmare so far for Logan. Because of the steep entrance fee, mostly rich people apply to join the game. The game is flooded by them. They have already let in four hundred, and they are all just¡­ horrible people. Disgusting, most often.


    Logan massages his temples. He can feel a massive headache building.


    If only one of these rich overindulged kids had a speck of unique personality, Logan vowed to put them directly into the game himself. Too bad they are all the same. It¡¯s as if the rich people of the world is cast into a very small selection of molds, essentially making exact copies of one another. During the personality tests, the responses classify them into three different archetypes. Logan categorized them himself!


    The first type is classified to be ¡®The brutes¡¯. This kind of people are all about solving problems by excessive force. Why use a scalpel when you can just use a diamond tipped sledgehammer? Logan can¡¯t cast these kinds of people for the game. Nobody likes a rich arrogant bully.


    The second archetype is even worse. He classifies them as ¡®The snobs¡¯. Only spoiled rich kids can come up with these kind of solutions. Almost every conflict is resolved by either throwing money around, or making someone else clean up the mess. They seem like a lazy bunch of people that never intend to lift a finger, and still come out on top.


    Logan can¡¯t stand this kind of people. Not only would they make for terrible entertainment, they would also be the worst kind of players. The kind of players that quickly fall behind everyone else when starting on equal grounds, and is quickly eliminated due to just utter laziness. At least their money is good¡­


    The third type makes Logan want to just repeatedly hit himself in the face. He promptly named them ¡®The moralists¡¯, because of their self-indulging habit of fighting for a good cause. You know the kind, the ones to publicly call for people to start saving anything that is currently popular to support in social media. Every other week they host grand parties for the rich to save the environment, stop animal cruelty and feeding the poor, or anything in between. They spend millions of euros on these causes, where most of the funds are spent on hosting said parties.


    It is weird why these kind of people want to play a game based entirely on violence and competition, but one can assume it is because they just like the attention. Logan won¡¯t even bother to guess why.


    There are a few minor personality types among the rich, but these are few. There¡¯s been a couple of sociopaths in the mix, and Logan decided to allow them all into the game. They are just bound to make a great show. The cold ruthless personalities are destined for great things, and people just can¡¯t get enough of them. Everyone loves to have a few bad guys mixed into their entertainment. Now he just needs a few competent heroes. He is certain they will find one somewhere...


    ¡­


    Perhaps one of the other interviewers has any luck?


    Logan steps up to another interviewer and puts on a headset. A high pitched female voice immediately threatens to burst Logan¡¯s eardrums. ¡°Oh and I would have aaaaaall my cute little pixies blast away those nasty orcses, and¡­¡± A desperate interviewer tries to rally himself. ¡°MISS! PLEASE! I just asked about your name!¡±.


    Logan quickly pulls of his headset.


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    Pretending that just didn¡¯t happen, he moves on. He listens to a few more interviews, but none of them appeal to him. He is about to break for lunch when one of the last interviewers on the back row raises her voice.


    ¡°Please sir, calm down!¡± She pleads. Logan can see how uncomfortable she is with the conversation. Her supervisor is already standing beside her, listening in.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    His interest piqued, Logan quickly moves over and grabs a headset.


    ¡°Sir! This is your last warning, calm down or I will have to hang up!¡± She cries.


    ¡°CALM DOWN!? AFTER WHAT THEY DID TO ME!?¡± Logan jumps back in surprise. The voice on the phone is screaming in anger. Logan can feel a shiver crawl down his spine. Why is this man so angry?


    The supervisor signals for her to cut the connection.


    Logan doesn¡¯t know exactly why he does it, but he reaches out and grabs her hand. Perhaps it is just one of those spur-of-the-moment situations? He will never know. One thing he is sure of though. He needs to know.


    The interviewer turns her pleading eyes to Logan. Begging for him to allow her to hang up. He can¡¯t let her. With resolve in his eyes, he gives her a firm nod and rests his hand on her shoulder. This seems to calm the girl. She takes a few seconds to gather her thoughts before she continues the interview.


    ¡°S-s-sir¡­¡± She hesitates. The voice on the other side has gone surprisingly still. ¡°¡­ Can you tell me about your motivation to compete?¡±


    Faint traces of some heavy breathing can be heard on the phone. No one is making a sound. Logan can feel the lingering gazes of several of the other interviewers observing the commotion. The focus on their own interviews nearly forgotten. Logan is holding his breath.


    The voice answers in a low and calm manner.


    ¡­


    ¡°I want to kill every last one of those fuckers.¡±


    Logan can¡¯t believe his ears. He quickly turns his head to look at his assistant. Every nerve in his body seems to be shaking.


    ¡°Who is this man!?¡±


    The assistant snaps out of her daze. She quickly gathers herself and buries her nose in her tablet pc. A couple of quick taps with her finger, she flips the tablet over to face Logan. A picture of a average, although slightly chubby man in his mid twenties stares back at him. The eyes of the man feel so¡­ hollow. The creepy kind of hollow.


    ¡°His name is Gregory Asbj?rnsen. Male, aged 26. Currently living alone in Greenwich, London. Employed as a Barista at Kenworth, Goldman & Simmons, a high-end law firm in downtown London¡­ Oh, scratch that. He is now unemployed as of¡­ oh my¡­ today.¡± The assistant raises her hand to cover her lips, her eyes still glued to the monitor.


    Logan squints his eyes. Why does this sound so familiar? Kenworth, Goldman & Simmons¡­ no¡­ doesn¡¯t ring a bell¡­ There is something he is missing. The last sentence on the phone is still ringing in his head.


    ¡°Kill every last one¡­¡± He mutters. ¡°¡­ Wait. Can it be?¡± His eyes widen.


    ¡°Kelly! Do we have any other contestants from that law firm?¡± He can feel a knot tie in his stomach.


    Kelly taps in a few words on her tablet, and she starts flipping through a list.


    ¡°We have five contestants connected to K,G&S. A group of friends that signed up together it seems. All aged between 24 and 27, all registered as active at the firm. One of them is also a possible candidate for one of our featured main storylines. Oh my¡­¡± She stops mid-sentence. Gaping at the monitor.


    ¡°Kelly!¡± He shouts at her.


    ¡°Sorry, seems like mister Asbj?rnsen got a rather abrupt end to his employment after physically assaulting Richard Kenworth. One of the other registered contestants.¡±


    Logan holds his breath. His mind is racing. Could this be what he think it means?


    ¡°I need him!¡± He yells, startling everyone near him. He has the attention of everyone in the room at this point. Kelly is the first one to break the silence.


    ¡°But Mister Andrews¡­ Company policy dictates¡­¡±


    ¡°Screw the company policy! I don¡¯t care. We NEED to have him in the round. Tell the brass we got our avenger storyline.


    ¡°But sir¡­¡±


    ¡°NOW!¡± His sudden yell paralyzes her for a short moment. With a shocked look on her face, Kelly starts jogging towards the elevators.


    Logan turns back to the interviewer. Horror showing on her face.


    ¡°Move! I¡¯m taking over.¡± The interviewer doesn¡¯t have to be asked twice. She pulls off her headset and literally falls off her chair trying to get out of the way. Logan pays her no mind.


    He puts on her headset.


    ¡°Mister Asbj?rnsen. My name is Logan Andrews and I am the one in charge of selecting the participants for the game.¡± His voice is steady.


    He can sense the person on the other side of the call is giving him his full attention.


    ¡­


    ¡°I have a proposition for you.¡±


    ----------


    My breath beats heavily against my clenched teeth.


    I am not particularly tired, but the sheer amount of rage that courses through my body is affecting me. My muscles are tense, my face is red and I can feel a small headache starting to throb. I bite my lip to the extent a small droplet of blood is racing down my chin.


    I want to scream... throw something¡­ strangle someone¡­ how dare they? HOW DARE THOSE FUCKERS DO THIS TO ME!?


    I stand up and slam my phone into the wall across the room.


    FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!


    With no other way to vent my frustrations, I start pacing around the room, throwing around random punches that hit nothing but air. The tension in my fists causes my knuckles to whiten.


    It takes me around ten minutes to calm down somewhat, although not by much.


    I look over towards the remnants of my phone. The broken monitor looks like a spider¡¯s web. The back panel fell off, revealing the battery pack. It is beyond repair. I can¡¯t help but regret throwing it like I did, no matter how justified it was at the moment.


    My tablet pc rests on the living room table, the monitor reveals the information of my bank account. Only a few moments ago, it contained slightly under twenty five thousand euros. Now, less than five remain. I transferred it all into a locked deposits account.


    My body slumps into my small two-seater sofa. For what feels like a decade, I let my muscles relax and just allow my body to sink into the soft cushions. My breathing softens, and rational thoughts sneaks back into my head.


    I¡¯m immediately struck by the realisation of what just happened. I lean forward and rest my head on both my hands, slightly rubbing my temples.


    Sigh¡­ What did I just do?


    Oh no¡­ no no no¡­ fuck¡­ shit¡­ SHITFUCK!


    I can¡¯t believe I just transferred four fifths of everything I own in a fit of rage. Why didn¡¯t anyone stop me? What could possibly have made me think this was a good idea?


    An image of Richard¡¯s sadistic smile flashes across my mind, his four minions smirking in the background. Right¡­ that¡¯s why.


    My hands clench till the point they start shaking. I start working through my memories of what just happened only an hour ago. The look of Richard squirming on the ground beneath me. The cries of horror from the girls¡­ the punch to my kidney from Keith¡­


    The screams around the office caused an avalanche of activity. People came pouring out of their offices, shouting their outrage of seeing Keith pummel me to the ground while I bit his shin. Nobody dared trying to pull us apart. It didn¡¯t take long for security to arrive to toss me (and only me) out on my ass.


    As I was being carried off I could hear the broken shouts of Richard threatening to sue me for all I¡¯m worth. Little bastard...


    I struggled weakly against the strength of the two security guards pulling me away. The corridor towards the exit was lined up by the company¡¯s employees. They all stared at me with looks of disgust. Not a single one of them had any empathy for my situation. No one wanted to take my side. I wasn¡¯t rich enough. Didn¡¯t matter.


    How can people be so fucking cruel?


    While I got dumped out the back entrance, one of Richard¡¯s father¡¯s assistants had caught up with us. I was promptly informed that I didn¡¯t have to show up for work tomorrow. He proceeded to quote a list of clauses from my employment contract which I apparently had broken and that I can expect a legal response in a short matter of time.


    I told the tight-knit little cunt that he could shove his legal response up his ass.


    I am going to have my revenge on Richard. No matter what. A fact I made abundantly clear to the fear stricken assistant when I was done yelling at him.


    No reason not to add to the list of charges, now is there?


    ¡­


    I¡¯m going to make them all pay.


    I just wish I hadn¡¯t chosen such a retarded way of getting revenge...


    Exactly how I reached my conclusion to get my revenge on Richard inside of a video game instead of breaking his knees with a cricket bat, I¡¯m not sure¡­ It¡¯s probably because his dad¡¯s bodyguards would have beaten me to a pulp before I got within twenty meters of him.


    If I couldn¡¯t break his bones, then I thought I had to improvise. When force is not an option, the next option would be to hit him where it hurts. His finances. Needless to say, that wasn¡¯t an option either. The only possible way left was to ruin his personal interests.


    Like me, Richard is an avid gamer. He spends nearly as much time as I do playing video games. A successful one at that. Richard is a semi-famous streamer of the post-apocalyptic shooter game; Desert Nomads. He has been on the official site¡¯s top rankings three years straight.


    I did watch his stream once, and I wasn¡¯t particularly impressed. The quality of his stream channel is naturally high, considering the wealth he has access to. Only the most popular, or the richest streamers has access to a personalized AI that takes care of filming, editing, and releasing top notch ingame footage in real time. The cinematic quality is sky high. The quality is probably what makes most people watch the stream.


    Richard himself isn¡¯t that fun to look at. His playstyle isn¡¯t remarkable at all! Just an average rich kid that bought the best gear possible ingame, and spend his ingame time blowing up buildings with a high powered plasma sniper rifle from half the continent away.


    I bet every shot he takes costs about a hundred euros...


    A pity I never got to meet him in Yggdrasil.


    ¡­


    Now I sit here. A short moment of pure rage completely toppled my life over. A tight knot forms in my stomach, and the remnants of my breakfast threatens to push itself up my throat. Nearly all my savings¡­ shit.


    What in the seven blazes of hell made me think that was a good idea?


    This isn¡¯t about revenge anymore. I have to win this thing¡­


    How the fuck am I supposed to do that!? I¡¯m up against over five hundred other people! God wriggling side stepping damnit! My heart is beating harder and faster than Mohammed Ali. No no no¡­ I struggle to form coherent thoughts. Shit. Is this what a panic attack feels like?


    I sit here with an apathetic look on my face. How am I going to do this? Not only just the gaming part, what about my life? I can¡¯t just pick up and leave for virtual reality for what can probably last an entire year¡­ I got obligations, an apartment to pay off¡­ I got to get a new job¡­ Maybe get a college degree¡­ No, fuck that. I need a job.


    No¡­ NO! There is no way back. I slap my face, attempting to steel my resolve. I have to do this. What am I trying to hold onto here? I got no family, no friends, no commitments. My life is running on autopilot, and the direction is Hell.


    What do I have to lose? How can things get worse from here? I¡¯m sick of this shit. I shake my head.


    I let out a final sigh.


    Fuck it. Let¡¯s do this!

 Chapter 4 – Launch Day

    Chapter 4 ¨C Launch Day


    A week later, I get off the bus in front of SinTech headquarters. A duffel bag filled with a few changes of clothes resting at my side. I talked to my landlord and got a sublease on my apartment. It¡¯s a bit tragic that was the only thing I had to take care of before disappearing from the surface of society for up to a year¡­


    No matter, that¡¯s behind me now.


    Hopefully I last longer than a week in this game¡­ I shiver at the thought of giving my landlord a call tomorrow, asking to get my apartment back.


    The SinTech compound is huge. It is several stories tall. Probably around thirty floors? A glare from the sun prevents me from making an accurate count. The building¡¯s facade is made up almost entirely of hybrid solar panels and glass. A testament to modern technology.


    A huge crowd of onlookers and journalists are tightly packed around the main door. A small red carpet stretches between the main door and the road, cutting through the mass of people. Two lines of strong looking men in dark suits keep the horde at bay. It looks exactly like how celebrities enter fashionable events inaccessible to the public.


    Neat.


    I didn¡¯t expect there to be this many cameras though. I did put on my best attire for the occasion, but it doesn¡¯t really say much. I suppose it¡¯s good enough. My jeans doesn¡¯t have a single hole in them, and the coloration of my black jumper is only slightly faded from age.


    Several taxis and limousines are queued up in front of the main door. People, most likely my contestants, step out of their vehicles, wave to the cameras and head into the headquarter in an orderly fashion.


    It would appear I¡¯m the only poor sucker that had to take the bus¡­ Yay me¡­.


    I walk up to the crowd of people. It¡¯s packed tight. I can¡¯t see past them at all.


    ¡°Excuse me? Can you guys move? Coming through!¡± I try to press against the crowd. They don¡¯t budge.


    ¡°Beat it kid!¡± A broad shouldered man sneers at me while pushing back.


    ¡°Sorry, but I need to get through. I¡¯m already late for the sign-in, I don¡¯t want to lose my spot in the game!¡± I plead.


    The man snorts.


    ¡°Sure you do kid. I¡¯m certain you hide that twenty thousand euro entry fee in your 2nd generation hand-me-down clothes.¡± The man chuckles at his own joke. ¡°Now fuck off!¡± He turns away, leaving me behind with an annoyed look on my face.


    What a douchebag.


    I circle around the crowd to the road, trying to find a way onto the red carpet. I soon find myself face to face with a Schwarzenegger-looking security guard. His muscular features are easily visible through his tight suit. He wouldn¡¯t have to strain himself to terminate my existence.


    The guard gives me a once-over look, before he looks away. It takes about a second for him to decide I¡¯m not worth his attention. Should I be insulted?


    ¡°This area is off limits.¡± The guard says in a low monotone voice.


    ¡°Sorry, but could you let me through? I need to get in¡­ I have this invitation here.¡± I hand the security guy a holographic disk I received in the mail a few days prior.


    The guard plays the recording to verify the invitation, before he steps aside.


    ¡°Sorry sir, right this way.¡± He waves me through. Finally, something easy.


    I thank the stone faced man before I step past and onto the red carpet. The string of cars running up has already stopped, and I seem to be the last contestant arriving. The crowd around the entrance has visibly thinned, as everyone expects the show to be over.


    I take a few steps down the carpet before a few journalists even notice me. They seem to be awfully quiet. I suppose they are trying to process why a guy with worn down clothes are walking down the carpet. Some start to laugh, thinking I have managed to sneak past security. A few cameras flash in front of me and more and more of the crowd starts to cheer me on.


    This lasts for two whole seconds until they realize something is off. The guards doesn¡¯t try to stop me, and they notice the small holographic disk in my hand. The cheers turn into shock. Hardly anyone makes a sound. I turn around and spot the large man from earlier that wouldn¡¯t let me pass standing with his mouth agape. He looks quite comical. Too bad the situation is too awkward for me to smirk at his expense...


    I just keep walking. Great. Why did even this turn out to be so freaking awkward? Some divine entity out there must really have it out for me...


    The twelve seconds it takes for me to walk across the square and enter the building feel like an eternity. A few journalists manage to snap out of it for long enough to take a few pictures, but otherwise, I think it should have been possible to hear a pin drop out there.


    Not even a moment after the door closes behind me, the crowd outside explodes in cheers. This is far louder than any of the cheers for the previous contestants.


    What the fuck?


    With the loud cheering at my back, I now look upon a large foyer. About a dozen drones are quietly hovering above the crowd, each sporting three cameras. There is no doubt about it; the show has already begun.


    A group of well dressed individuals fills the room, making me look like a proper bum. Everyone is properly dressed up for the occasion with wide smiles plastered on their faces. Probably smart¡­ the whole world is currently watching their every move. I¡¯m starting to feel a little self-conscious about my attire.


    A small transparent army of waiters slip unseen among the crowd, carrying serving trays filled with champagne and food. You know, those fancy little sandwiches. My stomach grumbles. I need to get my hands on some of those...


    The well-dressed crowd seems to have noticed the sudden explosion of sound from outside and turns around. Everyone''s gaze lingers at me.


    My face turns bright red. Come on damnit, give me a break!


    I stand completely still, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. I try the best I can not to make eye contact with anyone, but a certain group of individuals across the room catches my eye.


    Richard notices me at about the same time I notice him. His jaw drops and he looks completely stricken by confusion. Eva clutches his arm and looks at me with horror. I guess I¡¯m the last person they expected to see here. I give the assholes the coldest glare I can muster.


    Richard sneers at me and starts to make his way over. He doesn¡¯t make it far before a couple of the security guards intercepts him. One of them puts his hand on Richard¡¯s shoulder and whispers something at him. His look of anger quickly fades and his face goes pale.


    What just happened?


    From across the room, my eyes are drawn to someone trying to gain my attention.


    An overweight man with brown hair and a matching full beard waves at me. The man is beaming in my direction and his small gray eyes appraise me. He looks as if he already knows me? And why is he so glad to see me? He does look kind of familiar....


    Oh shit! That¡¯s¡­ Oh god! My eyes widen.


    Shit! What do I do now? When I talked to him last week, I was kind of¡­ yelling at him. What should I do? Smile and nod at the man? I don¡¯t¡­


    My chaotic train of thoughts is interrupted by the sudden start of orchestra music. I recognize the sound as the offical music from the game. Its magnificent music entranc¨¨ gamers all over the world and fills them with excitement. I can feel how the music gives me a familiar warm feeling of nostalgia. It¡¯s truly a remarkable piece of art, true to the fantasy genre. A masterwork.


    The entire room goes quiet, savoring the playful music. The silence remains even a few moments after it ends.


    Logan steps onto a podium and catches everyone¡¯s attention. His renowned youthful smile plastered on his face.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Greetings competitors! Welcome to the launch of the game we have all been waiting for...¡± He throws out his arms as the light dims. A single spotlight focuses on him.


    ¡°FANTASY ROYALE!¡±


    Massive applause erupts from the crowd. A couple of camera flashes can be seen at the front of the crowd, signalling the presence of a select few journalists. My muscles tense in excitement. This is it!


    As the applause fades, Logan continues.


    ¡°Everyone! I¡¯m certain you are all aching to get ingame... and we will get to that! But first, we will reveal a little information about the game!¡± The mood instantly changes from one of delight, to one of intense focus. You can literally taste the competitor spirit in this room. Good to know everyone is serious.


    Logan grins widely.


    ¡°Now that I have everyone''s attention, allow me to talk a little bit about the game world.¡± As his sentence ends, a large 3D hologram appears above his head. It¡¯s a map of sorts.


    The map shows a game world shaped like a large hexagon, made up of even smaller hexagons. Not only that, but every hexagon appears to have its own environmental biome inside it.


    The first thought that strikes me when I look at these biomes is: ¡®Hey! It looks exactly like the map of the old board game, Settlers of Catan!¡¯


    Looking closer at the map, I can see that the smaller hexagon squares are made up individual environments. I can spot several different ones, like snowy plains, golden deserts, green forests and jungles, and a lot more! These odd climates don¡¯t seem to affect each other, and their locations seem to be completely random! A snowy mountain is located next to a desert, and a lava sort of environment is on the other side. Wouldn¡¯t that cause the snow to¡­ you know¡­ melt?


    I focus more on the structure of the map. The center hexagon is grayed out. The remaining map is made up of five layers of hexagon circles expanding away from the center, making up a large hexagon grid sort of world.


    ¡°As you all may have guessed, this is a map of our game world! I see a lot of confused faces among you all, so allow me to explain our peculiar choice of a game world.


    I¡¯m not that good with explanations, so bear with me everyone. Right. So as you may all know, this maiden voyage got five hundred and forty contestants. Why this odd number? Why not five hundred? Or six hundred? Well, this is because of these hexagon grids you see here.¡± Logan waves his hand upwards, pointing to the grid system.


    ¡°Apart from the center one that is grayed out, I will explain that one later, each of the other biomes are randomly generated. Six of you will spawn in the same biome. Afterwards, when you enter your capsules and have selected your race, you will be presented with a list of available biomes for your race. Here you will rate them all based on which biome you prefer to start in.


    Choose carefully. You might not want to play as a dwarf in a lake biome, or an elf in a swamp biome.¡± Logan lets out a wink to the crowd after that last statement.


    Personally, I¡¯m thrilled! I love these sort of refined nuances in a game. The information so far isn¡¯t particularly helpful as of yet, but it¡¯s cool nevertheless. Logan continues.


    ¡°I wish you all the best of luck in the random seeding! Oh, and by the way, the biomes on the map here is only used as a representation. We will adjust the number of biomes based on your preferences, but some of you will be unlucky in your choices. May lady luck smile upon you¡­


    Next! The purpose of the hexagon grids.


    Obviously, since this is essentially a strategy game, some late game issues can affect the game in a negative way. When most of the five hundred and forty contestant are eliminated, travel distance between the players could become a real issue.


    That is why, when every inhabitant on a single biome grid has been defeated, the grid will disappear after twenty four hours. That¡¯s right, it will go POOF! So you¡¯d better get your troops off it ASAP!¡±


    Logan points to the holograph, and a single hexagon grid disappears, the third from the top. After it is gone, another interesting feature presents itself. The two grids above the grid that disappeared move down towards the center. Almost like a game of tetris. A wave of excited whispers washes through the crowd.


    Funny enough, or perhaps as expected? I am left out of these small conversations. Great¡­ I have been singled out¡­ This is gym class all over again¡­ I stand sullenly in silence until Logan continues his speech.


    ¡°Right! You guessed right everybody! The system is designed to keep intense action from start to finish. As you saw, if a grid disappears, the outer ones move towards the center gray one.


    Yes. The gray one! I bet you all wonder what is up with the gray one? Allow me to explain! The center grid is uninhabited, and inaccessible to everyone. The first outward line of the grid that got a single biome left, will activate the center biome. This biome will then copy the environment of the activators biome, and grant the player a ten percent increase to offensive and defensive values within this center hexagon!


    Yeah you heard me!¡± He literally shouts that last part.


    The room explodes in a torrent of excited cheers, questions and even outrage! This game mechanic is a complete game changer, and truly promotes aggressive playstyles.


    Excellent! Nothing annoys me more in strategy games than people who lock down their bases in a turtle-like defence. It takes forever to root them out!


    ...


    AAH! My body is shaking. I want to log in now. I NEED to log in. Hurry up!


    Logan is sporting a wide smile.


    ¡°All right then everyone! Let¡¯s quit this diddle daddling, and get this show on the road! Contestants! When we call your names, leave through the large doors to my left and we will take you to your personal capsule.¡± Logan gestures to a couple of large oaken doors to his side. A couple of scientist looking people are typing something on their tablet PCs. Apparently oblivious to the attention graced upon them.


    Logan makes a move to get off the stage before he freezes. He turns back to the microphone and grins.


    ¡°Also, a little tip to those of you planning on making alliances, there is a reward for conquering your own biome.¡± He gives the crowd an exaggerated wink. I look out over the crowd and can see a couple of people losing their confident smiles. Typical rich kid asshats that plan to buy their way in to a strong alliance. Thank you Logan! I could kiss that furry rascal.


    Logan quickly departs the stage and disappears off to¡­ god knows where. With a shrug, I try to flag down one of the waiters to get myself some of those nice little sandwiches. I won¡¯t be able to eat solid food for a while after all¡­ Gotta get dem priorities straight!


    The emptying of the room is a slow process, and naturally, I am one of the last ones called. It doesn¡¯t matter to me though, I get to eat six sandwiches and drink half a liter of soda. Good times.


    When my name finally is called, I step out and meet with a tiny woman who appears to be in her early thirties. She is wearing horn rimmed glasses and has her brown shoulder length hair in a tight ponytail. She isn¡¯t wearing any makeup, and some deep furrows and bloodshot eyes gives me the assumption that she hasn¡¯t slept for at least a day. A dirty lab coat finalizes her appearance.


    Her sour expression makes her seem to be unaccustomed to smiling. Can¡¯t really blame her, I¡¯m sure launch day of the hottest video game of the century takes a toll on anyone working at the developers¡¯ headquarter.


    I follow her through a short white corridor and into a spacious elevator. We take it all the way up to the twenty eighth floor.


    ¡°Around the corner to the left, room 2909. Ask for Glen.¡± The tiny woman says before she disappears into the elevator again.


    Right. Lovely woman.


    I start walking towards my room, eagerly peeking into the few open doors within my vision. Every room I pass seem to be similar. Five capsules are lined up next to one another, with a large host of odd cables and hoses attached to them. Some of the cables go inside the capsule, probably to provide sustenance to the occupants, and¡­


    I shiver.


    Oh hell no. They ain¡¯t sticking one of those hoses up there. Nah-ah!


    I pick up my pace. I reach the end of the hallway and turn left. The rather abrupt turn causes me to bump into someone.


    ¡°Ow, Watch it asshole!¡± The person yells. He manages to catch his balance just in time. He brushes his golden blonde hair to his side before he raises his eyes. We immediately lock eyes.


    It¡¯s that fucking asshole. I do my best to quell my budding anger.


    ¡°YOU!¡± Richard sneer. His face stiffens in a look of hatred. I do my best not to break his face.


    ¡°Yeah me, motherfucker.¡±


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± He snaps at me. A vein starts pulsating on his forehead.


    It¡¯s my turn to sport a smirk. ¡°To fuck you up, Dick. What else?¡±


    His eyes flicker for a moment, and he seems unable to comprehend that I¡¯m now in a position where I don¡¯t have to pretend to be polite to him. Bitch ain¡¯t got no power over me anymore.


    His eyes widen and his nostrils flare. Richard is so far out of his comfort zone his mind seems unable to act rationally.


    ¡°You lie¡­ There is no way you can be here...I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll call security! They will get rid of you.¡± He rambles. His mind overloading.


    ¡°Oh little Dickard¡­ Don¡¯t be dumb. I mean dumber than usual. See this?¡± I raise my hand and show him my holodisk while simultaneously flipping him off.


    His face goes red.


    ¡°You insolent little¡­ You better get out of here. My father¡­¡± He hisses at me through clenched teeth.


    Something clicks in my mind, causing my left eye to twitch. The little shit is pissing me off somehow. ¡°Your father won¡¯t do jack shit to me here. He can¡¯t protect you. You can¡¯t hide in his shadow like the pathetic little bitch you are.¡±


    His eyes go round in shock. Richard is about to lose it. His eyes darken and his jaw clenches further. From the looks of it, I only need a little push to make him physically assault me, effectively disqualifying him from the game. Through gritted teeth, he speaks.


    ¡°Y-y-you¡­¡± He takes a step closer to me. His muscles seem to tense and his face turns a deeper shade of crimson.


    ¡°You better back off before you get hurt.¡± I tell him, getting ready to defend myself.


    Ignoring my words, he raises his fist and swings wide at me. I take a step back and feel the wind pressure from his extended arm swiping at me horizontally. His fist misses my face by a few centimeters. The force of his swing and lack of contact causes his body to rotate with the punch, making him lose his footing. I take advantage of the situation and step in closer, shoving him hard in the side. He falls over.


    Richard hits the ground hard. He quickly rolls to his side and stare at me. His face is full of pure rage.


    ¡°You little shit! I¡¯ll get you... I am going to make you wish you got skewered like that bitch of a mother of yours.¡±


    My vision goes red.


    I don¡¯t know exactly what happened next, but two of the bulky security guards appear out of nowhere and are now pressing me facedown into the floor. Richard is laying a meter away from me, heaving for breath. His nose appears to be broken and a small pool of blood is forming besides his head.


    Unbeknown to us both, a small camera in the roof above us caught it all on tape.


    Somewhere in the building, the bearded architect of this little meeting is laughing.

 Chapter 5 – Game Options

    Chapter 5 ¨C Game Options


    I don¡¯t know what happened.


    I really don¡¯t.


    I just broke Richard¡¯s nose, and I¡¯m already stepping into my capsule. Why?


    There is no doubt in anyone''s mind that I just broke a couple of serious clauses from the thick brick of a contract I had to sign. I didn¡¯t read it all, but I did skim through the first page. It clearly stated that physical violence outside of the game would lead to instant disqualification and the police would be contacted immediately.


    So would anyone like to explain to me why the staff appear to have ignored the fight as if it had never happened in the first place?


    The two bulky guards had just picked me up, pushed me along the corridor and into my designated room. Inside, a caffeine addicted intern had given me and four strangers a short explanation about the technical process of hooking us up to the capsules. He didn¡¯t even give us any time to ask questions before they chucked us in and slammed the lid shut.


    What the fuck man?


    I don¡¯t even¡­


    Like a cold slap on my jumbled mind, the same intro music from the entrance ceremony fills my mind. It feels as if the sound originates from all around me at once, even inside my own head. Every cell in my body is shaking in anticipation, drowning out my earlier feelings of confusion.


    My body relaxes and I soon take in the music, savoring every moment of it. It doesn¡¯t take long before the game¡¯s logo makes its appearance and the music fades. My body loads in and takes shape as my personal virtual avatar. My avatar looks identical to how I look in real life.


    I hover calmly in virtual space. The only thing I can see is a thin veil of a fog-like substance floating around me. There are no walls or floor here, only a horizon filled with infinite darkness. It is only me. And I¡¯m ready to tear shit up.


    It¡¯s game time!


    The moment is finally here. It feels so damn weird. This last week has gone by in a flash. Only a few days ago I was a below average social reject, destined to live out my days working night shifts at the local seven eleven kiosk. Now, I¡¯m competing against the rich kids of society¡¯s elite at the largest stage of this century. It is funny how fate brought me here.


    I make a few light stretches, trying to get the feel for my new avatar. Sadly, there is no way for me to use the personalised avatar I have on my own FIVR helmet, but this new one doesn¡¯t feel much different, albeit it looks a bit plain.


    My skin starts to crawl and my fists clench. My heart is hammering. I¡¯m getting psyched up! I wonder why my skin is crawling while in virtual reality?


    Meh¡­ who cares?


    A blue translucent virtual display appears before my eyes.


    Welcome to Fantasy Royale!


    The round will start in: 1 hour, 0 minutes, 0 seconds


    Please select your race


    Taken back by the abrupt message, I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. This game doesn¡¯t cut any corners, does it? I only have an hour to prepare? What the hell! That''s not enough time to analyze my options and make an informed choice. Damnit Logan¡­ And here I was starting to like you¡­


    The game doesn¡¯t even allow me to pout for long though. Soon after, a surprisingly long list appears


    Available Races


    Human


    Angel


    Demon


    Elf


    Centaur


    Orc


    Pixie


    Lich


    Troll


    Imp


    Skeleton


    Gnoll


    ¡­


    The sheer amount of data being processed before me is staggering, to say the least. The list is long. Too damn long. A small number at the top-right corner of the list counts a hundred and thirty one options. That¡¯s one hell of a long list. I don¡¯t think I can even name a quarter of the available races. Balancing them all would be impossible. A thought strikes my mind. Maybe they aren¡¯t supposed to be balanced? Logan¡­ What the fuck did he create?


    I keep browsing the list. I try selecting a few, hoping to get some information about the races. No luck. It seems like the developers don¡¯t want some poindexter break down their games on numbers alone before it¡¯s too late.


    Hrumpf.


    My eyes narrow and a few deep furrows appear on my forehead. There must be a way.


    If I can¡¯t make a perfectly logical assumption about the races, then I should try to play the mind game. Well¡­ I don¡¯t really know where to being...


    Giving my head a shake, I collect myself. Let¡¯s start with the obvious. Large and traditionally powerful races like Angels, Demons, Dragonkin and Centaurs practically got a large sign hanging above them, telling us how freakingly overpowered they probably are.


    I can¡¯t really say I know Logan Andrews¡­ But I¡¯d be damned if he ain¡¯t trolling us hard on this one. I should just scratch all of those. So what does that leave me with?


    Humans? No. Too plain. This option is just screaming to be selected as being the only real safe choice. I¡¯m not falling for it.


    What about all the small ones? Hobbits, Pixies, Murlocs and Kobolds?


    ¡­


    Naaaww.


    Weaklings. There is no way they could work¡­ Or could they? What if¡­ Didn¡¯t Logan hint towards something like this last week during the interview? How the weak beat the strong¡­ numbers. NUMBERS! Of course! The smaller races probably have a huge numerical advantage! In such a large scale strategy game like this, numbers alone is a great advantage.


    Those larger races probably have a massive advantage in straight up combat, but the smaller ones should definitely make up for it in strategy. 90% of a strategy game is about maneuvering after all. It¡¯s far easier to scout around, gather information and lead an enemy around on a wild goose chase with a numerous force rather than a small one.


    That¡¯s it! It gotta be it!


    ¡­


    Yes. Definitely.


    So which race do I choose?


    The inner Lord of the Rings fan in me draws me towards hobbits. Hmm. No. Their arms are too short. Not fit for combat. So then¡­ what about¡­ murlocs? They most likely have a superior advantage in aquatic settings, but I would probably get screwed over in a hostile environment with no water. Murlocs in a desert wouldn¡¯t be more than a poorly made portion of fish & chips. I¡¯m scratching that out.


    So what is there then? Kobolds?... If my fantasy lore serves me right, they aren¡¯t adaptable enough¡­ Pixies¡­ too feminine. Ghouls? ¡­ Those claws would probably hinder weapon usage. So what about¡­ Arrg! Too hard!


    With a deep sigh, I start scrolling down the list at a fast pace. Eliminating most races at a single glance. A certain race I have seen a million times before catches my eye.


    Goblins¡­ really? Why would I¡­ It¡¯s just so¡­ Really¡­


    But on the other hand...


    Goblins! That could work! Tiny green humanoids with a knack for murder. What isn¡¯t there to love?


    Grinning, I quickly tap the word Goblin in the list. A prompt appear.


    You have selected Goblin


    Are you certain?


    (YES / NO)


    I don¡¯t hesitate clicking yes. A small ember of glee sparks within me. I have always been fascinated by the fantasy depiction of goblin society. Usually treated as a savage and weak race, they are in reality one of the most cunning species. They are quick on the uptake to implement the technology of their enemies and make use of their weapons, and they can persevere in almost any environment. Like a race of next-gen cockroaches, tailored for the fantasy world!


    Most people only look upon goblins as fodder for the other, larger goblinoid species, but a true goblin fan like me knows they can thrive on their own. Doesn¡¯t hurt to be underestimated as the underdog by the other players!


    Taking a moment to collect myself, I cast a glance on the clock in the top left of my vision. A little over 38 minutes left¡­ Damn. I¡¯d better hurry.


    A new prompt appears:


    Please rate your preferred available starting environment


    Forest


    Mountain


    Swamp


    Snow


    Jungle


    Plain


    Hill


    Riverlands


    Lake


    Ruins


    Tundra


    For the umptenth time today, I¡¯m stunned. That¡¯s a lot of options. I guess I was correct in my assumption about Goblins being a highly adaptable race in terms of environment. Makes me excited to think about what else I might have been correct about.


    So¡­ How do I make an educated guess about this? From my experience, Goblins prefer to live in caves underground, in small villages deep in a forest or jungle, or hiding among the vegetation in a swamp. Ruins are also a definite tell tale sign of Goblin society.


    I sit for a while, knocking my brain around to try and figure how I¡¯m supposed to approach this problem. In the end, I just decide to go with my gut. Goblins are supposed to be cunning, so I¡¯d better pick an environment that compliments this skill set, but one that can also work out in case I¡¯m completely and utterly wrong.


    I rate my choices in the following manner: 1: Mountains, 2: Forest, 3: Ruins, 4: Jungle, 5: Swamps. I assign the last options randomly, figuring I would most definitely get one of the common first choices I select. I take another glance at the timer. Twenty-six minutes. Getting close¡­


    After confirming my ratings, yet another choice appears. How many of these are there? I should probably pick up the pace. Who knows how many more there are¡­


    Please select your character class


    Warrior


    Berserker


    Archer


    Rogue


    Ranger


    Mage


    Shaman


    Priest


    Oh ho ho. Now we¡¯re talking! Customizing my own character! And so many appealing options! This option is easy. All bow down before the mighty goblin berserker! I tap berserker from the list, and soon the prompt appears, asking to confirm my choice. I raise my hand and let it hover above the yes button for a while.


    ¡­


    Something prevents me from confirming my choice. I get this empty feeling in my stomach that I¡¯m about to make a horrible mistake.


    My gut is right. This seems wrong. I tap no.


    Okay, let¡¯s get back to analyzing my options. What do we know? Goblins are numerous, but weak. Being a melee fighter in general is awful for a Goblin. It would be like throwing wet towels at a bowling ball. I mentally eliminate Warrior, Berserker and Rogue. I¡¯m left with spellcasting classes and ranged fighters.


    Spellcasters would feel like the most obvious choice, but my gut tells me that option has severe flaws. Goblins are weak, and nothing screams ¡®HEY COME KILL ME!¡¯ like a tiny fireball dispenser. I scratch out these options as well.


    This leaves me with only two real choices. Archer and Ranger. Nobody would look twice at just another archer in a horde of goblins¡­ But I suppose they are also priority targets. I need something subtle. Perhaps I shouldn¡¯t have been so quick to dismiss the Rogue? Why would I have to fight anyway? I should just stay out of sight, letting my minions fight. This is a strategy game after all.


    The Ranger. This class is the most mysterious to me. According to both my real life history knowledge, combined with my knowledge of fantasy lore, this class can be anything. Rangers can be either Rogues, Swordsmen, Archers or Scouts. The choice is too risky. I would love to get a stealthy archer, but an unarmored swordsman? I would be useless!


    The logical choice for me is now to be a Rogue. This option at least guarantees me good hiding skills. There is that little gnawing feeling in my gut though. Fuck it. Believe in your gut Greg!


    Ranger.


    LET¡¯S DO IT!


    Tap. Confirm. Time remaining: 14 minutes.


    All right, another problem out of the way. I can¡¯t help but wonder what¡¯s next. The next prompt makes its appearance as if on queue.


    Please select the class of your Advisor


    Warrior


    Berserker


    Archer


    Arbalest


    Ranger


    Rogue


    Assassin


    Mage


    Shaman


    Priest


    Alchemist


    What¡¯s this? My advisor? What in the¡­


    I scratch my beard in confusion. Well, I would have. If I could actually grow one. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Sigh ¡­ Life is unfair.


    Ok. FOCUS GREG! Time¡¯s running out! I try to gather my thoughts. I can¡¯t afford messing about too much. These choices could mean the world to me. Right. Composure gained. Let¡¯s see what we got.


    An advisor is usually your most trusted subordinate. At least if my knowledge from all those old mobster movies my mom used to love doesn¡¯t betray me. Since I can also select a class for it, then it should be safe to assume it will be a NPC under my direct command. Since the game makes a huge deal about it and gives it a title, this mob is mostly way stronger than the other ordinary units under my command. Like a mini-boss. Or maybe a bodyguard? The ¡®Advisor¡¯ title shows that it¡¯s probably intelligent. I guess it¡¯s seeded by a separate artificial intelligence unit, or one of the lesser virtual intelligences, a V.I.


    Anyhow, I should pick a powerful class to compliment my own.


    So what facts do I have here¡­ I¡¯m still a goblin, so a melee class is out of the question. That eliminates Warrior, Berserker, Rogue and¡­ Assassin? WHAT THE HELL!? I didn¡¯t get that option! That¡¯s so unfair! What else is there?


    ¡­


    Arbalest? Alchemist? The hell! Those options sound awesome! Why can¡¯t I¡­ fuuuck. If the virtual space I am currently occupying had any walls, I would kick them. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself for the umptenth time today. I can postpone my rage for a few minutes. Time is running out.


    Ok.


    So since I chose a ranged class myself (or so I hope), it¡¯s no point getting another one. Perhaps I should go for a stealth one? An assassin would be cool¡­ but that could be risky. I don¡¯t know what happens if I lose my Advisor. Does it have permadeath? If so, a squishy Assassin that would need to get close to an opponent puts him at a great risk.


    Better play it safe. I¡¯m going to go for a magic class. If I have to make an educated guess, I would have to guess Alchemist is a support sort of class. This could be pretty great for my army as a whole, but my gut tells me otherwise. If my advisor is indeed my own bodyguard, I want him to be able to pack a punch.


    I considered choosing priest for a moment, assuming it¡¯s a healer class. I make a wager I won¡¯t need it. I¡¯m going to stay hidden and out of sight. Healing would be a waste. Okay¡­ So this leaves the Shaman and the Mage classes. Let¡¯s be honest. A Shaman looks like the most obvious choice. A Shaman is typically a jack-of-all-trades, using both offensive, defensive and support magic equally. A valuable and highly versatile unit to have in any group composition.


    I¡¯m really tempted to choose it. It is after all, a very logical choice.


    I spend a few moments considering this. My brain tells me to go for it, but my gut¡­ Damn. Why does my gut make this so difficult? The Mage. It¡¯s a good choice really. It might lack the versatility of a Shaman, but it more than makes up for it in firepower¡­ or so I guess. Who knows with this game? I can¡¯t put my finger on it, but I can¡¯t help shake the feeling that the developers added the more exotic choices of Assassin, Shaman, Ranger, Arbalest and Alchemist to draw attention away from the generic ¡®standard¡¯ type of classes.


    Any gamer should know deep down how sheer magical power solves most problems. You never enter a large scale raid without chucking the group up with enough mages to give Hogwarts a run for their money. Well fuck it. It¡¯s not a bad choice. I¡¯ll go with my gut. No regrets!


    I select mage and confirm my choice. No way back now!


    I cast a quick glance at the timer in the top left corner of the monitor. 4 minutes and 12 seconds remaining. Crap¡­ How many things are there to choose from? What happens if I run out of time? ¡­ Why isn¡¯t anything happening now? Is there no more options? Am I done?


    The questions keep racing through my mind. I can feel my heartbeat against my chest, and sweat running down my forehead. I don¡¯t even bother to question why my virtual avatar is even sweating.


    My monitor remains blank.


    10 seconds pass. Hurry up!


    20. Come oooon.


    30. Is this thing broken?


    1 minute. !!11!1!!1!!


    2¡­


    I guess that¡¯s it. I must be done. My muscles relax, relief washing over me. That shit was intense. It¡¯s kind of a dick move of the developers to give us a short timer, and not telling us how many choices we have to make. Some may call it psychological torture!


    Still, it¡¯s brilliant. Keeps us on edge.


    The pressure of making unknown choices on a time limit can stress out anyone, tricking them to make a bad decision because they don¡¯t think they have time to think it through. Hell, I would probably have fallen for it myself if I wasn¡¯t so dense and got caught up arguing with my gut feeling.


    ¡­


    ¡°I love you gut!¡±


    Would you like to name your Advisor Gut?


    (YES/NO)


    Ehm¡­ What?


    Ho¡­ Wha¡­ Why? Thank god my avatar has hands, because this is the first time I ever truly felt the need to bury my face in them¡­ And maybe cry a little.


    No.


    This has to be a joke. Someone is fucking with me!


    ¡°What the fuck man? I know someone is fucking with me!¡± I yell, while raising my avatar''s arms with clenched fists. I stand still and stare into the void of virtual space for a couple of seconds, before the anticipated translucent blue window appears before my eyes.


    d;-}


    I knew it. I fucking knew it.


    I can¡¯t help but shake my virtual head. I¡¯m not even going to dignify the developers trolling me. I kind of respect it¡­ but no. I just can¡¯t allow myself to get roped in by them. Or else, they won¡¯t leave me alone.


    The time limit is about to expire. 10 seconds. 5¡­ My skin starts to crawl ever so slightly. I don¡¯t know what make me do it, but with two seconds left on the clock, I hit accept. One¡­


    A radiant white light blind me.


    My vision is thrown far into the air, looking down towards the hexagon game world. It is as if I turned into a bird, casually observing an oddly-shaped island floating in dark space. Is this it? Do I finally get to play now?


    When life serves you lemonade¡­


    Another freaking window appears in front of my eyes!


    Welcome to Fantasy Royale!


    The wiki has been unlocked!


    You have selected the race: Goblin


    Racial details unlocked!


    Map unlocked!


    Your starting biome is D-13-1


    You have drawn the starting environment: Forest


    You have selected the personal class: Ranger


    Starting gear for selected class unlocked!


    You have selected your Advisor class: Mage


    Starting gear for selected class unlocked!


    The round will start in 30 minutes, 0 seconds


    Please select your Name


    Please select your Tribe Name


    Please select your Advisor¡¯s Name


    ¡ú Advisor¡¯s name already selected


    Please choose your Starting Location


    Woah! Another round of decisions to make reveals itself to me. Great. I should have expected this from Logan. This game is just as big of a tease as he is. I can almost hear the sound of his laughter somewhere in the game cosmos.


    At least we are told how many decisions we have to make before the timer runs out this time. Shouldn¡¯t be too hard¡­ the only tough decision I have to make is selecting my starting location. The rest of the time I can spend reading up on my racial abilities and the wiki! Oh holy sweet baby jesus! Time to satisfy my inner statistics monster.


    Ok. Let¡¯s get the non-essentials out of the way. My name?... Ugh. Is this one important? Nah. It¡¯s not like anyone is going to bother too much about it anyway? Let¡¯s see¡­ a name¡­


    ¡­


    I can¡¯t think of anything at all.


    Crap.


    Ok this isn¡¯t supposed to be so hard¡­ Right. Let¡¯s choose something fitting for a goblin chieftain. My goblin lore suggests I should choose something short and simple. Like Gor¡­ Morg¡­ Gob¡­ Scratch that last one. No way I¡¯m lowering myself to naming a goblin Gob.


    Nah. I¡¯m the chief. I need to pick something¡­ chief-like. Let¡¯s see. If I put in a apostrophe¡­ How about¡­ Greg¡¯lok?


    I try the name on my tongue a couple of times. Not too bad actually. All right, Greg¡¯lok it is! What¡¯s next?


    Tribe name? Gawd. I¡¯m not even going to¡­ Dark Fangs. Yes. Moving on.


    Advisor¡¯s name¡­ lucky! Already did that one.


    I quickly check the timer from the corner of my eye. 27 minutes!? I wasted three minutes on those stupid names!? Greg you stupid son of a¡­ STOP! Damn. I can berate myself all I want later. I have to spend this time wisely.


    I browse through my list, making some mental notes about what I have to check out before the timer runs out. Starting location¡­ Forest Biome. That was my second preference on the starting biomes. I can¡¯t complain about that. And I start in biome D-13-1. Where¡¯s that?


    I open my freshly acquired map and have a look around at all the individual hexagon biomes that make up the game world. I quickly figure out I have the ability to zoom in and out at will. I try focusing on a random biome. It¡¯s a mountain biome. I can¡¯t make out the individual parts of the biome, whereas it is mostly covered by a thin veil of mist. It covers the area hidden beneath, preventing me from making out any details. Classic fog-of-war feature. Goes to show the game won¡¯t allow me to gather intel from a territory controlled by other players quite so easily.


    I am about to discard the biome and have another look around when I notice a small floating number at the biome¡¯s center point. B-2. What does that mean? Hold on!


    I zoom out and take a look on several other biomes. They all have different letters and numbers, following a certain pattern. The letter appears to symbolize which hexagon circle away from the center the biome is located on. The closest circle around the gray core is named A, while the furthest circle at the edge of the game world is named E. The numbers are the individual biomes in that circle. The northernmost biome in the circle is numbered 1, and following a clockwise pattern, making a nice even numbered circle. Much like a regular clock.


    My biome is located in D-13-1. That¡¯s the fourth circle away from the center. This circle has twenty-four biomes in it. Seeing as I¡¯m located in the thirteenth one, My biome is the southernmost biome in the circle. I¡¯m not sure what the one means.


    I let my mind wander over to my own biome. Not surprisingly, it is a large forest biome. Unlike the other biomes though, my biome isn¡¯t completely covered by the fog-of-war. The biome appears to be divided into six equal parts. Almost like pizza slices, cutting from every corner to the center. The northernmost pizza slice is completely clear of the fog. If I follow the same logic as the biome numbering, the northernmost slice of my biome should be numbered 1. It just so happen to coincide with the number of my starting location.


    Hell, I deserve a pat on the back and a high five.


    Sherlock Holmes ain¡¯t got nothing on these deductive skills.


    Let¡¯s have a closer look at my home for the next year. I¡¯m not going to miss my chance at making my most important decision in the game. Choosing a starting location has been known to either make or break strategy games in the past. There are just so many different aspects to take into consideration.


    Available resources, natural defences, logistical efficiency and room to expand is but a few of them. The first step any aspiring settler should take into consideration is the local landmarks.


    I scan the forest and notice a problem with starting in a forest. There is nothing but trees everywhere. My bird¡¯s view ain¡¯t helping shit! DAMNIT GREG! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO PREDICT THESE SORT OF THINGS!


    Arrg.


    Okay. Let¡¯s stay positive¡­ I may not be able to locate any gold mines, but I may be able to choose a good defensive spot. I get a good view of my quadrant of the biome. The center of the biome is actually a small mountain. It looks unnaturally steep, most likely placed as such to prevent players from scaling over it.


    The side of the mountain strikes me as a good possible starting location. The upside is that nearly half of my base would be defended by a steep mountain side. This can greatly help in organizing a defence. Another strong point is that mountains are usually great sources of ores and minerals. Metal is the the backbone of any warring nation throughout history after all.


    There are some clear downsides with this location though. I have to assume my neighbours should all think the same way I do, and decide to start near the center mountain. This would put me in a very uncomfortable position. The travel distances would be too short, possibly subjecting me to constant blitz attacks. But one has to wonder¡­ does the gain outweigh the risks?


    There are also two rivers crossing through my lands. One to the northwest, and one to the northeast. The northwestern one isn¡¯t anything special, whereas it¡¯s just a river going in a straight line, barely touching my territory. I don¡¯t even bother trying to argue for the strengths and weaknesses of this location.


    The northeastern river seems interesting on the other hand. It follows a zig-zag pattern through my northern border, all the way to my middle eastern border. Picking a location in one of the bends in this river would put me in a very strong defensive position, being covered by the river in three directions. This is a strong choice. Areas around rivers often offer great locations to gather herbs. Agriculture flourishes in these areas and animal life should be plentiful.


    The only possible downside I can think of is that it can severely hinder my mobility. Being the goblin race, my gut feeling tells me I have to be one sneaky sonofabitch. Geographical hindrances could spell my doom in the wrong scenario.


    The choice is tough. It all boils down to these two prime starting locations. In my mind, they are equal in worth. Not even my gut feeling has anything to say on this matter.


    ¡­


    Should I flip a coin?


    ¡°Eanie, Meanie, Miney, Mo¡±


    Mountain start it is!


    Yes I know. Don¡¯t ask. It¡¯s done.


    Thoroughly pleased with myself, I decide to check the timer. A whole whopping 12 minutes to go! That¡¯s plenty of time to browse the wiki. I take a quick look through the list of things I should do, making sure I didn¡¯t forget anything.


    Of course I forgot something.


    Racial details? This¡­ looks like something that should have been the first thing I opened when I unlocked it. A bad feeling starts to swell in my stomach.


    I open it, and soon a detailed list of my race appears before my eyes.


    Goblins


    Tier 1 Race - Goblins cost 2 Summoning Points (SP) per unit. Gain 6 SP per day. Starts with 60 SP.


    Magical Affinity: Fire, Blood


    Mounts: Unknown


    Racial Traits:


    Adaptable: Lessens negative status effects from incompatible biomes by 50%


    Natural Predator: 20% Increase to skill gain for Tracking, Hunting, Concealment


    Scavenger: 20% Increase to Hunting, Foraging, Herbalism. 20% Increased yield from looting enemies


    Wild: -30% Decrease to Farming, Breeding


    Weak: -30% Decrease to Mining, Masonry, Lumberjack, Digger. -10% Damage Modifier to Slings, Bows, One-Handed Weapons. Not counting Daggers.


    Small Stature: Can not wear Heavy Armor, Two-Handed Weapons, Heavy Shields


    Agile Fighter: No negative Damage Modifiers from other racial traits to melee weapons if Double Gripping


    Greg you stupid sonofabitch. If you had read this twenty minutes ago¡­ Just looking at these numbers, I should have chosen the river start! Just look at these bonuses to hunting, foraging and herbalism¡­ And those debuffs to mining! AAARG! My gut has abandoned me¡­


    I¡¯m not even sure I want to play anymore¡­


    Naah, just kidding.


    I take a few minutes to read through my racial information and do some quick mental calculations in my head. My first impression about the race is that it¡¯s really, really trash. There are so many negative aspects! My main point of grief for this race is the ¡®Weak¡¯ racial trait. It¡¯s game breakingly bad. Damnit. Should I have chosen a bigger race?


    ¡­


    Too late to complain now. I try to analyze my strengths, to see what makes up for all the bad. My [Small Stature] trait is also bad, but understandable. Although it¡¯s still bad, it means I shouldn¡¯t be too dependant on metals, since heavy armor requires more of it. Perhaps I should focus more heavily on damage output?


    Moving along, the [Wild Trait] is bad, but it doesn¡¯t really matter. I don¡¯t really expect goblins to be farmers or sheep herders. The ¡®Scavenger¡¯ trait more than makes up for it though. Being in a forest, a large bonus to Foraging, Hunting and Herbalism is my super strong point on the settlement management side. It does most likely mean I have to spread my forces out wide, but the gain should more than make up for it.


    Combat wise, the [Natural Predator] trait is down right broken. Holy shit. Used correctly, it will turn my forces into a fierce raiding force, taking enemies by surprise with deft guerilla tactics. The [Adaptable] trait should also help greatly when invading, although not by much since Goblins already function well in nearly all biomes from the start. [Agile Fighter] ¡­ Ok. This trait practically screams at me that I should definitely pursue a strategy based on high damage output, and focus less on defence.


    The biggest mystery of my racial abilities is that I¡¯m designated as a tier one race. This could mean so many different things! How many tiers are there? Do the tiers signalize how strong my race is compared to the others? I hope not. That would mean I probably got one of the weakest rolls.


    My rumbling gut tells me the solution lies in the information behind it. Summoning Points. Apparently I start with sixty of those, gain six per day and my Goblins cost two to summon. That means I can summon three new Goblins per day¡­ right? But why such specific numbers? Why isn¡¯t it just telling me I can summon thirty goblins to start off, and three new ones per day?


    I rack my brain trying to come up with a solution. After five minutes of hardcore thinking, some loud cursing, some quiet wailing and a series of light punches to my temples, I come up with two possible theories. I suspect this is connected to either the race tiers or my personal level. Most likely both.


    I base my tier theory upon my knowledge about the different races. I doubt the tiers measure their strengths, because that just seems unbalanced and dumb. Why would the developers intentionally tell us that they made some races weaker? If there is ever a second round of this game, nobody would ever want to play the lower tier races. It goes to show that there should be other units of measurements for the tiers. My own theory is based on the races¡¯ sheer sizes.


    Obviously, there is a significant size difference between a goblin, a human and an ogre. It makes no sense that their units should all be equal in strength. If a duel between a goblin and an ogre would be an even match, nobody would find the fights believable. This is the most logical assumption.


    Right, so if I believe in the developer''s sense of honor and fairness, and the rough estimate of the races ¡®sizes¡¯ there should be enough tiers to effectively use all the summon points per day for each different tier. That should mean three tiers? I shrug. I¡¯ll figure this out later. Regardless, since I have a small race, I should technically get more units than the other players. It¡¯s only fair after all.


    The other theory I have is connected to my personal level. Later in the game, I should be able to summon more units than early game. Let¡¯s face it. Three goblins per day isn¡¯t going to cut it later down the road if the developers hope for constant action.


    Most likely both these theories are correct¡­ But what if¡­ I freeze. A wave of stone cold realisation hits me straight on.


    ...


    Why didn¡¯t I just check the wiki for all this?


    For fucks sake Greg¡­


    Browsing through the wiki is what I have been looking forward to the most, and here I sit and make baseless assumptions like a dumbass with the answer sheet right before me. I¡¯m such an idiot.


    With all my tasks done, I select the wiki. My eyes widen in delight when a long list of information and statistics appear before me. Hallelujah! This is what I¡¯m all about! Time to break the game, information style!


    I catch a sideways glance at the timer.


    The game will start in 0 minutes, 5 seconds


    ¡°NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!¡±

 Chapter 6 – Misfits

    Chapter 6 ¨C Misfits


    A bright light momentarily blinds me. The sudden influx of sensations takes me completely by surprise. I blink a couple of times and look around, trying to get my bearings.


    I find myself in the middle of a small clearing. I see the steep mountainside behind me and I let my eyes follow its ridge until the forest hides it from view. When I looked at the map earlier, the mountain didn¡¯t look quite this big. This giant block of rock is humongous to say the least. Even though I know the mountain is roughly round in shape, it looks as if the massive wall of rock is very linear. I must really have underestimated the scale of these biomes.


    I spin my vision around and take in the rest of the sights. There aren¡¯t really much to look at, just a lot of trees. Lots and lots of trees. There are trees in all sizes, with most ranging between four and twenty meters tall. Various lesser brushes and vegetation is nicely placed in between, giving me the entire forestry feel.


    I can¡¯t help but be impressed about how the forest can look so realistic, and so fake at the same time. It¡¯s weird really. I knew the game had good graphics, but the quality of this game makes Yggdrasil Online look like a 2D pixel game compared to reality. It¡¯s beautiful.


    Taking in the beauty of the game, I soon realise something feels off. The clearing looks... out of place. It is shaped like an egg, expanding away from the mountain range. There is a clear cut edge separating it from the treeline, making me think the clearing was cut out only seconds before I spawned here. There is also a small pond of water just inside the forest clearing to my east. I suppose I didn¡¯t see it during the intro sequence due to all the large trees surrounding it. It looks very nice. The kind of place where you one day dream of having a picnic.


    I can work with this.


    The clearing isn¡¯t very big, going roughly a hundred and fifty meters out from the mountainside, and it¡¯s about eighty meters from east to west at its widest. The clearing is mostly flat, with a few smaller hills closer to the mountain side. It should be a perfect location to start a great goblin settlement!


    I start pacing around the small clearing, trying to figure out the capabilities of my new avatar. Nearing the small pool of water, I take a look at myself in the reflection of the water¡¯s surface.


    Holy shit I¡¯m ugly.


    An ugly green mug looks back at me. Correction; an ugly ass mug with eyes that glow ruby red. I¡¯m a small bald little gremlin looking creature. My skin is incredibly rugged, with deep furrows all over. I look like a wrinkled old geezer who has stuck in a washing machine for too long.


    I lift my hands and touch my head. I have large pointed ears sticking horizontally out from my head. They look a lot like an odd mix between wolf and elves ears¡­ just sticking outwards rather than up. A large hook shaped nose extends from my face, and a couple of long fangs protrude from the lower lip of my abnormally large mouth.


    My hands though¡­ I raise them and hold them in front of my face. I¡¯m not sure why, but I did expect to look at my good old pink human hands, but what I see is quite different. My hands look crazy ass weird! My hands are green, and they are abnormally large. And shit! I only have four fingers per hand! Creepy¡­ I gently flex them to get a feel for it. It feels oddly natural, as if I¡¯ve always had four fingers. So weird...


    My eyes scan my odd fingers further. The tip of my fingers have some long sharp nails¡­ more like claws. They look sharp enough to be able to rip things apart in a most savage way.


    ¡­


    Okay, that¡¯s pretty cool.


    I start moving my hands all over my body. Ignoring the fact that I must look like some sort of weird ass pervert, but I don¡¯t care! I¡¯m a goblin damnit! Being in a new and exotic body feels completely surreal. In other games, you always play as some sort of humanoid with a body similar to humans. This body doesn¡¯t feel human at all.


    My body is small like a child''s. I¡¯m surprisingly thin and lean, with tight packed muscles. The joints in my arms and legs are extraordinary flexible, and my arms are slightly longer than they should be. My feet also got an extra spring to them. I feel very light. I bet I would be a beast at parkour with this body.


    While I caress my body in the weirdest manner possible, I take a closer look at the clothes I¡¯m wearing. It¡¯s a nicely stitched set of leather armor. The leather is attached tightly to my body, and a few smaller pieces of chainmail cover the vital spots on my torso. Not only this, but I have a crossbow strung across my back, and a small quiver of bolts hanging on my belt right next to a scabbard holding a bronze dagger. Guess I¡¯m an archer after all. Neat!


    I am so consumed by my new body I nearly forget where I am. I manage to pull myself together for long enough to try and focus on the task at hand.


    It is time to begin.


    ¡­


    What the hell am I supposed to do!? Isn¡¯t there a tutorial of some sorts? A simple guide to tell me what to do? The game has told me nothing. NOTHING! How am I supposed to¡­ Oh. OOOH! The wiki! How do I open it?


    I try making the same mental maneuvers most games use to open information pages. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and calmly utter out loud the standard phrase:


    ¡°Open Wiki.¡±


    I gleefully open my eyes, prepared to take in a vast amount of delicious information. What greets me though, is a completely different message.


    You do not currently meet the requirements to browse the Wikipedia.


    My jaw drop.


    ¡°EXCUSE ME!?¡± I yell. The fuck? Are they for real!? Did they really just block the wiki for the players, after allowing us to browse it before the round started? Fucking assholes!


    ¡°Younglings these days¡­ always with the yelling and prancing around¡­ Not an ounce of respect for the old ways.¡± A voice grumbles from behind me.


    Startled, I spin around on my heel, trying to locate the source of the voice.


    ¡°Who the fuck are you!?¡± I shout, my voice breaks from the shock, making me sound like a woman struck by hysteria.


    My eyes lock onto a small green creature a few meters behind me. He is roughly the size of a twelve year old kid, with an abnormally large head. His body is thin and lean, but clearly in shape. Most of it is covered in a tattered black hooded robe. He has a wide mouth with a few sharp teeth protruding between his lips. A gray uncombed beard struts in all directions from his chin. Some dark red eyes can be seen from under his black hood and he is leaning against a crude wooden staff.


    He looks like a tiny goblin Gandalf. Evil version.


    ¡°Tssk. So crude.. I¡¯m Gut.¡±


    ¡°Gut?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Gut. Do I need to smack you around a little for it to sink in?¡± The initial shock starts to fade, and I start to calm myself. I sure as hell hope no one is tuning into my feed out in the wide world. This scene can¡¯t have looked very intelligent.


    ¡°Are you my Advisor?¡± I raise my eyebrow.


    ¡°Advisor, counselor¡­ I have many titles¡­ And by the look of you, a wet nurse.¡± He shakes his head and growls under his cowl. Damn, the V.I. is really nailing that whole goblin wizard thing.


    Wish he wasn¡¯t such a cunt though.


    ¡°Are you supposed to be this rude to your chieftain?¡± I ask the mage.


    ¡°Tssk. Chieftain... Barely got the tit out of your mouth and you already have the audacity to call yourself a chief.¡±


    ¡­


    I guess that qualifies for a response in some way? I shrug it off. For some reason I doubt I will gain anything from bickering with an NPC. I ignore his response and press on.


    ¡°What is your purpose?¡± I try to figure out what an Advisor really does. Better to know this now rather than later. Who knows? Maybe he has some secret voodoo juice tucked somewhere in that robe.


    ¡°Tssk¡­¡± He snorts. He is starting to get on my nerve. ¡°I am here to give you council youngling. I will follow your every command, and will care for your tribe to the best of my ability. Any order you give is law. Unto death.¡± I¡¯m surprised. I was expecting another condescending reply, but he now sounds far more sincere. Is this a scripted response?


    Hardcore!


    ¡°Sweet! ¡­ What do you suggest I do first?¡± I ask my newfound companion.


    ¡°Must I do everything¡­ I advise you summon some workers, youngling. We need some workers and warriors to build your tribe.¡± The guy is both being a professional and a complete dick at the same time.


    ¡°How about you take that stick of yours and sho-¡± My response is cut short by a sharp hit on the top of my head. A jolt of pain races through my body and my vision blurs. Is this some stun effect?


    It takes a few seconds, but eventually my head clears. I can definitely feel the pain, but it feels like it should have hurt way more than it did. Luckily, the game puts some severe pain filters on. It still hurt though. I cast an angry scowl at Gut who stands a meter in front of me, his makeshift staff-club still in hand. My scowl is returned several fold by the little mage.


    Hrmpf. I turn away from his uncomfortable gaze. Nevermind the angry little goblin grandpa¡­ Let¡¯s get to it. Summon me some minions!


    ¡­


    And how do I do that?


    ¡°Err¡­ Gut?¡±


    ¡°You utter the words of power, youngling. Try ¡®Summon Units¡¯.¡± Gut appears to have read my mind. I start smiling involuntarily. He is helpful. I¡¯m starting to get accustomed to his personality, and I must praise the choice of personality traits for my race¡¯s V.I. units. I can only assume a goblin would act this way. It feels very natural and really builds a good atmosphere.


    Following his suggestion, a blue display pops up.


    Summon units.


    Available SP: 60


    SP generated per day: 6


    Goblin Fighter: Cost 2 SP


    Goblin Worker: Cost 2 SP


    Uhm. I scratch my head. I expected the list to be a lot more¡­ complicated. Didn¡¯t Logan hint to this game having a lot of tactical depth? What the hell can I do with only two types of units? There has to be some trick to it. I suppose I have to do some good old fashion experimenting.


    I decide to summon one of each type.


    A brief flash of light hides the arrival of two goblins. Unlike Gut and I, they wear nothing but a single piece of dirty loincloth. They do have some equipment though. The fighter goblin I summoned has a small rusty knife in his hand. It doesn¡¯t look particularly deadly, but the two inch blade could probably cause some nasty damage. Anyone struck by the knife would at least have to take a Tetanus shot.


    The goblin worker on the other hand has a few more pieces of equipment. He has a small brown sack made of cloth strapped to his loincloth. I¡¯m not even going to question how the loincloth can hold the weight¡­ I¡¯m just glad it does. I suppose he needs it to transport goods more easily? I don¡¯t know.


    The worker also has some odd piece of tool in his hand. It looks very crude, and is basically just a stone loosely tied to a stick. I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s supposed to be a hammer, an axe or a pickaxe¡­ perhaps all three? I guess I will find out later.


    The goblins loiter around for a few seconds with vacant looks in their eyes. They soon come to and immediately drop to their knees, bowing their large green heads before me.


    ¡°Chief!¡± They utter simultaneously with respect. Hoh? What''s this then? Some respect? I can get used to this!


    I throw a sideways glance at Gut over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. ¡°You could learn something from their behavior Gut¡±. I only get some low growling in response. A smirk appears on my lips. I am going to enjoy this.


    I focus my mind on both of them, inspecting their details in turn.


    Goblin Fighter


    Class: None


    Skills: None


    Perk: None


    Morale: ???


    Goblin Worker


    Profession: Not assigned


    Skills: None


    Perk: Short Sighted


    Morale: ???


    Okay. I can¡¯t say I¡¯m impressed. The game is pretty scant with information. If I understand my units correctly, they are basically clean slates. Level 1 mobs. Useless. I have to train them up. The little information my inspection reveals from my two minions isn¡¯t much, but it allows me to make some good guesses to their development paths.


    The fighter should be able to learn any skill, and can later gain a class. This should allow him to specialize in a specific combat role. I wonder how many classes there are though. I am looking forward to delve deeper into that mystery.


    Skills is obvious. It¡¯s what my guy can actually do. I suppose if he swings that little dagger around for awhile, he will gain some sort of ¡®Dagger Mastery¡¯ skill. This is far too similar to other role playing games. No reason for the developers to reinvent the wheel is there?


    My worker on the other hand is a little different. First of all, he is the only one of the two who has a perk! Although it looks like a bad one. [Short Sighted]? It doesn¡¯t come with a description, but I¡¯d be damned if it does anything other than reduce the range he can see stuff.


    Anyhow, the only other new unique thing is the profession. I bet it¡¯s the same deal as the fighter¡¯s class system, but this one has [Not assigned] next to it. This should probably mean that it is probably available to be assigned right now¡­ no? How do I do it?


    I try focusing on the profession, and a new list appears! Yay!


    Choose a profession for your Goblin Worker


    Available Professions:


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.Hauler


    Builder


    Digger


    Lumberjack


    Mason


    Hunter


    Farmer


    Fisherman


    Forager


    Gatherer


    Breeder


    Herbalist


    Miner


    Finally. Some options! Looking through my list, I try to think about what I can use these professions for. Every profession is simple and straightforward, and doesn¡¯t warrant an in depth explanation. I am a bit worried that there are a few unavailable professions though, like a smith, but I suppose I get to unlock those later on.


    I decide to give the worker one of the basic professions that I know I will need first. A Lumberjack. I select it, and soon after, the Worker shines with a bright light. I quickly inspect him.


    Goblin Lumberjack


    Profession: Lumberjack


    Skills: None


    Perk: Short sighted


    Now we are talking! Progress!


    There are a few changes to the goblin¡¯s body. His muscles seem to have increased slightly, and the crude tool he wore earlier has changed. It now looks more like a proper axe. The quality still looks poor though. Anyhow! Let¡¯s summon some more!


    I get to summon 28 more minions. This is a sudden death strategy game, so I would be a fool not to invest heavily in military units. Considering I also have to train them for quite a bit, I should focus on them as early as possible. I should also heavily invest in the future. If the rest of my units are as poorly equipped as my first two, I should prioritize upgrading ASAP. I need a blacksmith, and for that I need to build up my infrastructure.


    ¡°Gut!¡± I call. ¡°I plan on recruiting a total of ten [Fighter]s, and twenty [Worker]s. How do you advice I allocate the workers¡¯ professions?¡± I figure it doesn¡¯t hurt to ask. I¡¯m certain the little guy knows things I am probably supposed to know myself.


    ¡°Grr¡­¡± He gives me another angry scowl. ¡°I suggest you focus your efforts on creating some buildings, youngling. For that you need [Builder]s. As many as you can spare.¡±


    I nod in acknowledgement. Gut doesn¡¯t really give me any specific numbers, but the advice is sound. It wouldn¡¯t be much of a game if the Advisor did everything for me, would it? I do notice a few mistakes in his logic however.


    ¡°Thank you Gut. How about gathering raw resources? All these [Builder]s are going to need a bunch of building materials if they are to create buildings? And what about food? To me, builders seem pretty far down on the priority list.¡±


    Gut looks annoyed now. He looks at me as if I¡¯m an idiot. Cheeky bastard. ¡°While that is true youngling, In a true settlement, the resource gatherers should always outnumber your production units. Gathering raw materials is also necessary for the production to function. Lumber is the most important resource for the early stages of development. I suggest you have at least three [Lumberjack]s for every two [Builder]s.¡±


    Hold on for a moment. This guy is contradicting himself.


    ¡°Gut?¡±


    ¡°Behind you.¡± He growls at me.


    I turn around, and my jaw drops. A large amount of wood, stone, grass and meat is stacked in a large pile behind me. Where did that come from!? Why does this game repeatedly try to surprise me? And how the hell does Gut always know what I¡¯m thinking!?


    ¡­


    I give up.


    I turn back to Gut. If he had been a real person, and not a V.I., he would be smirking at me. Good thing he isn¡¯t... or I would have to start practicing with my crossbow¡­ at a moving target. I take a very deep breath.


    ¡°How much is there?¡±


    ¡°Our current stock amount to 80 [Pinewood], 20 [Stone], 30 [Grass] and three days worth of food.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Gut¡­¡± I narrow my eyes. ¡°Are there going to be any more surprises I should know about?¡± I attempt to stare a hole in Gut. This fucker better not be trolling me.


    ¡°Cheeky youngling...¡± I can hear him mutter some muffled curses under his cowl. I stay quiet for a while. Just staring down my Advisor. Uh-huh. You¡¯d better not be lying...


    In the end, I decide to recruit ten [Fighter]s, five [Lumberjack]s, six [Builder]s, two [Mason]s, two [Hunter]s, three [Forager]s, a [Hauler] and a [Herbalist].


    I inspect every single one of my new arrivals, and notice a few discrepancies from my first two summons. First of all, not everyone wears a loincloth. Some has simple linen pants, and some even wear shirts! Very classy.


    There are also some minor differences in their appearances. Some of the workers have smaller ears, some have bigger noses and some of them even wear basic jewelry like nose rings and earrings. About half of them even have hair! I can see a couple of mohawks and top knots in my merry band of goblins.


    Roughly seven of the goblins; five workers and two fighters have perks. The fighters have perks called [Eagle Eye] and [Deft Hands]. I can¡¯t wait to figure out what those do. Although I have some good guesses. The workers mostly has negative perks, like the [Short Sighted] perk. Two of them are now [Glutton]s, one is [Short Sighted], one is [Clumsy] and the last is [Strong].


    While all the workers have the same little brown bag and crude tool, my fighters fare a little different. Half of them have crude wooden clubs. Two of them have rusty knives, two have small wooden spears and one even has a rusty cutlass! The starting gear for the fighters appears to be completely random. No matter. I will soon replace them with better equipment. I do however, love how authentic they look.


    My ragtag band of green misfits are all bowing their heads before me. A small sense of hubris fills my heart. The feeling is awesome! I feel like a proper king!


    It¡¯s about time for me to have my men¡­ goblins earn their keep. I survey the lands nearby, trying to figure out how to best utilize my troops. The clearing I¡¯m currently residing in is a little small. I¡¯m not even sure I want to place my village square at the center of it. My best option would be to think of defence. If the crude weapons of my soldiers are an indication of my tribe''s power, then I don¡¯t want to take any chances.


    I look over towards the small pool of water located just inside the treeline to the east of the clearing. Walking closer to it, I notice how it¡¯s hugging the mountainside, and it¡¯s completely round. I¡¯d estimate it¡¯s about forty meters across. A small waterfall comes down the mountain, and a small stream of water exits into the woods to the east.


    This is the place.


    I turn around and find my tribe walking at my heels, all staring at me with respectful eyes. Right. Dutiful little rascals aren¡¯t they?


    I call out for my five lumberjacks and have them start clearing the trees around the pool. I figure the pool will be a nice natural defence against invaders from the east. Hopefully they aren¡¯t amphibious creatures¡­ I shiver at the thought. Naww. Only a proper dumbass would pick an amphibious race in a forest¡­ right?


    To the sound of my lumberjacks smacking trees with their crude axes, I next address my two masons. I have them use their newly transformed pickaxes to start clearing away the rocks that litter the area. I consider having them hacking away at the mountainside. Who knows? Maybe they can make a cave? It could be practical. And I need stone anyway. Hmm. I shove the idea to the back of my mind. I have to prioritize clearing up my construction site first. It¡¯s only proper strategy after all.


    Next I look at my hunters and gatherers. These guys¡¯ tools have gone through the most significant changes. The hunters now wield a short hunting spear, and the gatherers wield some slumped planks. Makeshift baskets? I can still see the characteristics of the template crude tool in them though.


    I tell my food harvesting crew to start do their thing, and bring the food they find back to Gut. Uttering this last order promotes a low hissing sound from somewhere behind me. This pleases me greatly. I also decide to have my herbalist do the same.


    My entire resource gathering crew is already scurrying around, utilizing their professions as best they know. I¡¯m left with my band of warriors, my builders, my hauler and a very angry looking robed grandpa. Now for the difficult part.


    I have to do something about my fighters. They are all poorly equipped, and they have no skills at all. How can I improve them?


    ¡­


    ¡°Gut? Do you know how to train up our forces?¡± I don¡¯t expect much. A low grumble answers me.


    ¡°Combat. How else?¡± Is it just me, or has his grumpiness leveled up?


    This guy.


    His answer is pretty straightforward though. It¡¯s also a little tricky. Combat can mean a lot of different things. Fighting enemies, or amongst themselves¡­


    ¡°Is there a good way for our warriors to heal themselves if injured?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°Healing magic or healing potions.¡± He snorts.


    ¡­


    What an ass. ¡°Thanks, I¡¯m not an idiot. I mean ways that are available to us right now. I plan on having our troops spar with one another to quickly raise their combat efficiency. Wouldn¡¯t help us much if they died now would it?¡±


    Gut doesn¡¯t answer immediately like he usually does. He looks surprised actually. In a positive way even! Did I finally hit the nail on its head when it comes to questioning?


    ¡°There is, youngling. By drinking the water over there, your fighters will slowly regenerate their wounds. It takes a few minutes, so it isn¡¯t too useful in combat, but it helps heal their ailments when in safe areas.¡± He responds. I¡¯m a little surprised actually. He didn¡¯t growl at me a single time during that answer. Green baby Jesus! I think the old geezer is warming up to me!


    Does the V.I. that control Gut respond well to intelligent questions? So far, I have only made basic ¡®stupid¡¯ questions, and the politeness of his responses has deteriorated gradually. He definitely responds badly to sarcasm and disrespect. And I gave him a lot of that shit. I¡¯m not sure I can stop with sarcasm though, so I suppose Gut and I won¡¯t ever be BFF¡¯s. Maybe drinking buddies?


    Oh god. I hope this game doesn¡¯t turn into one of those weird japanese ¡®dating¡¯ simulations where I have to keep picking the correct dialogue option to proceed in the game. I just don¡¯t want to deal with that kind of drama.


    Shaking my head, I return to the task at hand.


    My fighters loiter around. I¡¯m surprised how realistic they look. They don¡¯t stand at a complete attention like most other NPCs do in similar games. They look a lot more lifelike. They just follow me around and do random¡­ goblin stuff. One of the goblins is picking his ear¡­ another two are brawling, and a couple of them are just staring at the treetops with vacant looks on their faces. None of them look particularly intelligent in any perceivable way. It¡¯s like I¡¯m the caretaker of a fantasy special needs class.


    ¡°Alright everyone!¡± I clap my hands together to gather everyone¡¯s attention. The vacant looks all turn my way, and the eager looks from earlier reappear on their faces. Aww. What a loyal bunch.


    ¡°Fighters! We are going to do a little combat practice!¡± I shout. I receive a lot of confused looks. Great¡­


    ¡°Form up in pairs and start fighting one another. And whatever you do, don¡¯t kill each other. When you are injured, take a sip from the pool over there until your wounds heal. Then start sparring again. Everyone got that?¡±


    My small warband elicits a motivated cheer before they clumsily group up in pairs. They immediately start punching each other and smacking their weapons around. The sight is gruesome. This isn¡¯t sparring. It¡¯s a goddamned brawl! Some of them even drop their weapons and starting punching the shit out of each other.


    ¡°STOP!¡±


    The huge pile of green body limbs immediately stop flailing madly around, and ten confused looking faces turn in my direction.


    Sigh.


    Why does this have to be so freaking hard¡­


    I spend the next half hour carefully instructing my goblins how to spar with one another. I tell them to use the weapons in their hands and only fight against one opponent at a time. It takes a lot of effort, but they eventually get the general idea of what I¡¯m trying to tell them. It still doesn¡¯t look good. Like¡­ at all¡­ but it¡¯s a start.


    Dejected by the idea of my future as a goblin emperor, I turn away from the clang of weapons striking each other and address the last goblins in my group. The builders. Oh, and the hauler. Nearly forgot that guy.


    So... What to do about these guys?


    ¡­


    I give Gut a look.


    ¡°Grr¡­ Words of power. Construct Buildings.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Gut! Your wise counsel is all that keeps the tribe progressing forward!¡± I suppose I charged that comment with a tad too much sarcasm, because the look Gut gives me can instantaneously kill puppies. The adorable kind.


    Aaaanyway. Back on track. I will forward the long missed blue window.


    Available Buildings for Construction:


    Cooking Fire


    Basic building for processing food


    Allows for basic food to be made. Cooked food increases morale by 5 per unit.


    10 Pinewood, 5 Grass


    Hovel


    Basic living quarters for your Goblins. Increases morale by 10 per occupant. Provides housing for 6 Goblins.


    30 Pinewood, 10 Grass


    Longhouse


    Basic cramped living quarters for your Goblins. Eliminates morale deficiency due to lack of housing. Provides housing for 30 Goblins.


    90 Pinewood, 40 Grass


    Woodsman Hut


    Basic resource gathering hut. Grants 10% bonus to Lumberjacking, Hunting, Gathering, Herbalism.


    50 Pinewood, 20 Grass, 30 Stone


    Farmer¡¯s Hut


    Basic resource gathering hut. Grants 10% bonus to Farming, Breeding.


    50 Pinewood, 20 Grass, 30 Stone


    Miner¡¯s Hut


    Basic resource gathering hut. Grants 10% bonus to Mining


    50 Pinewood, 20 Grass, 30 Stone


    Quarry


    Basic resource gathering hut. Grants 10% bonus to Masons.


    50 Pinewood, 20 Grass, 30 Stone


    Granary


    Basic storage hut for food. Prevents food degradation by 50%.


    50 Pinewood, 20 Grass


    Blacksmith


    Basic crafting building for Metal.


    60 Pinewood, 20 stone


    Leatherworker Hut


    Basic crafting building for Leather


    70 Pinewood, 30 Grass, 20 Stone


    Workshop


    Basic crafting building for Carpentry


    70 Pinewood, 30 Grass, 20 Stone


    Woah. That¡¯s some list! And this is only the building available to be constructed now? I shudder at the thought of what will be available down the road. All these choices. Where is a poor little goblin supposed to begin?


    Time for me to do what I have been doing for two hours. Analyze, analyze and then analyze some more!


    Okay.


    I¡¯m going to immediately de-prioritize the resource gathering buildings. The buildings give boosts to my resource gathering productivity, but I refuse to believe the boost is worth it this early in the game when I hardly have any workers for the bonuses to influence. The crafting buildings immediately catch my attention. The [Blacksmith] has always been the cornerstone of any sprouting settlement. This building should definitely be a decent priority. Not only do I need it to arm my scruffy looking troops, but I bet it¡¯s crucial to gain some new buildings and technologies.


    Same goes for the [Leatherworker Hut] and the [Woodshop], but the [Blacksmith] has more value.


    Aaah. I really want to just start building it. But there are several other crucial buildings that I need. The lodgings seems to be interesting. There are two different types of housing I can build now. [Hovel] and [Longhouse]. The buildings seem to be pretty straight forward. The [Hovel]s may cost more resources per housed unit, but it also gives a positive morale bonus to my troops. The [Longhouse] can house all my units and is far cheaper, but it doesn¡¯t give me any bonuses. It only eliminates the morale deficiency for lack of lodgings.


    Wait¡­ How big is this deficiency?


    Abstaining from asking the grumpy Gut, I follow the trending game logic and think about opening a morale window. It takes me a few moments before I get it right.


    Morale Overview


    You do not currently meet the requirements to view this information


    ¡­


    Give me a fucking break.


    I guess I have to assume the worst and guess the lack of housing penalty is far more severe than it should be. I move the [Longhouse] to the top of my priority list.


    Moving on, I start mulling over the food related buildings. The [Cooking Fire] and the [Granary] seems to be important. Especially the [Granary]. Food degradation? That could seriously mess things up! How do I see how much it degrades?


    Puzzled by this fact, I walk over to my pile of resources and grab a piece of food from a brown wicker basket. It¡¯s a piece of what appears to be cooked mutton. I carefully eye it, and compare it to the rest of the pieces of meat left in the basket. They all look generic and similar. I can¡¯t help but be disappointed the food doesn¡¯t have the same individual uniqueness that my goblins seems to have. Oh well. Logan has to save money somewhere, doesn¡¯t he?


    Crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, I inspect the meat.


    Cooked Meat


    Consumable Food. Meat type. Increases morale by 5 when eaten for 24 hours (effect does not stack with same food type).


    Degradation: ???


    Well that¡¯s anticlimactic. This game really don¡¯t want people to make well informed decisions do they?


    Fuck it. I have to start with the [Granary] now. I can¡¯t risk my food stores disappearing overnight and all my people starve to death. No matter how unlikely it is.


    First things first though. I have to pick a good location for it. Proper city planning is insanely important in a strategy game to optimize the production output of the city. Looking around and considering my options, I spot a few good locations for my [Granary]. Since my food production will primarily be based upon hunting and foraging, I should place it close to the forest to the east. My units will have to go deep into the forest, so I shouldn¡¯t hide the building at the back of my village close to the mountainside.


    I walk over to the location where the open field intersects with the treeline and the northernmost border of the small pool of water, a good fifty meters away from the mountain. This place should allow for easy access for both my food gatherers and my units for later in the game while still having it in a fairly secure area.


    Rounding up my [Builder]s, I order them to start constructing the [Granary] at the specified area. The group of hammer-wielding green bundles of muscle starts carrying wood from the pile of resources and dump them near the construction site. My hauler does some magnificent work, being able to carry twice the amount of resources, twice as fast as any of the builders. I stand still for a moment, mesmerized by the brilliant work ethic of my troops. Everyone is hard at work, and it makes my chest swell with pride.


    I can really make something out of this.

 Chapter 7 – For Guts and Glory

    Chapter 7 ¨C For Guts and Glory


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Kelly asks.


    ¡°Hmm? Ah¡­ Just satisfying my curiosity.¡± Logan is hunched over a computer terminal in his sofa-sanctuary. His monitor is strategically turned away from Kelly, making her think he is doing something he shouldn''t. She takes a step closer, raising one of her eyebrows skeptically.


    ¡°It¡¯s that kid, isn¡¯t it? Why are you so interested in him?¡± She crosses her arms, clearly annoyed at how her boss is rather spending his time on launch day spying on a player rather than doing his actual important job.


    A wide smile forms on his lips.


    ¡°Of course! He is just too damn interesting! Can you believe it? He chose to play as a goblin without even a second thought! Hah! I love him! The other tier one race players spent far more time manning up to choose one of the lesser races. I bet he places almost all his decisions on his instincts alone, and fills in the rest with good old fashion experience!¡± He throws his arms wide. Clearly, he has already chosen his favourite.


    Kelly lets out a long sigh. She knows Logan can¡¯t be reasoned with when he gets like this.


    ¡°He only seems like a normal kid to me. A highly emotional unstable one at that.


    Logan massages his temples. ¡°Yeah, he is an emotional wreck. But, let¡¯s be fair. He did go through some really horrifying shit over the last week. I am amazed he is even coping this well. He just needs time. That¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°If he needs time, then why are you even casting him now? Why not just give him time to heal before the next round starts? If he is as interesting as you say he is, why not personally invite him to join later?¡±


    Logan sighs. ¡°I can¡¯t. There is no guarantee he will be half as interesting then as he is now. The setup for a great show is ideal. He just need a little time. He will get there. Just give him two weeks, tops.¡±


    Kelly frowns. ¡°I don¡¯t like this¡­ He is a liability. Not only did he threaten to murder someone during the interview, but he actually attacked someone before the round started. Why did you let it slide?¡±


    Logan¡¯s smile drops. He tilts his head to the side and stare at the back wall.


    ¡°That other kid had it coming¡­¡± He mutters.


    ¡°That¡¯s not a reason to break the rules. Mister Kenworth threatens to sue us for what happened to his son! He is not someone to take lightly. You can¡¯t just shrug it off like that. It¡¯s not how it works!¡± Kelly nearly screams. She can¡¯t believe Logan is so oblivious to the world around him. She has spent eight years keeping him out of trouble and she isn¡¯t going to let him muck it all up so close to the finish line.


    ¡°Meh, he will let it go. I showed him a recording of the conversation the kids had before the fight.¡± He says in a very nonchalant way.


    Kelly¡¯s eyes widen.


    ¡°Did you threaten him!? ARE YOU INSANE!?¡± She shrieks, her composure finally lost.


    ¡°What? No! I just¡­ gave him some exclusive footage of the game contestants before the tapes were automatically sent to A.I. in charge of distributing footage to the world. No biggie. I did him a favour actually. So just relax.¡± He shrugs, pretending the entire ordeal is a non-issue.


    Kelly on the other hand, has a very thick vein on her forehead pulsating menacingly. The technical personnel silently observing them through the glass office wall can¡¯t understand why Logan isn¡¯t shivering in fear at Kelly¡¯s dagger-shooting eyes. Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.


    ¡°That¡¯s basically the same thing!¡± She yells. She can¡¯t understand how he can be such a short sighted fool.


    ¡°What do you want from me? You know as well as I do that the avenger storyline has to keep playing. It¡¯s the most popular one in all the polls.¡± Logan shouts back, spreading his arms wide. ¡°Just look at these initial numbers! Nearly fifty million people tuned into his stream from the start!¡±


    Kelly shakes in fury. She closes her eyes and starts a count to ten.


    She is furious. But she can¡¯t deny Logan is right. There is just too much money depending on this kid. Regardless, she can¡¯t back down now. If she lets Logan go wild and uncontrolled, something terrifying will definitely happen unless she can be there to hold his reins.


    She takes a deep breath.


    ¡°And when do you plan to tell mister Kenworth that his son is the main culprit of this storyline? Before or after tonight''s broadcast?¡±


    Logan¡¯s face goes pale and he looks away. Hardly audible, he mutters.


    ¡°Ehrm... I wasn¡¯t going to.¡±


    ----------


    The surrounding forest is filled with the noise of tools and weapons smashing into anything and everything within range of the tiny goblin tribe. I probably spent an hour just looking at them all scurrying about. I have to walk away in the end though. There are only so many sharp and monotonous sounds I can stomach for one session.


    I head towards the southern edge of the pool and find myself a nice smooth rock to sit on next to the waterfall. I let my senses bask in the beauty of my surroundings and drop my shoulders.


    Aaah. That¡¯s nice...


    These last couple of hours have been incredibly tense. I have been jumping from one major decision to another in a very short timespan. There is just so much to do. I feel as if I haven¡¯t even scratched the surface of my new role and possibilities. No matter. I deserve a little breather.


    I spend a little more time watching my little goblins in the distance. It¡¯s much nicer without the noise. I don¡¯t get to enjoy my solitude for long before a lone goblin hobbles over to me. His wooden staff prodding holes in the soft dirt as he walks.


    ¡°What¡¯s up Gut? Come to enjoy the scenery?¡± I chuckle. I can¡¯t imagine the grumpy goblin would be one for reveling at seeing the local sights.


    ¡°I would ask you not to leave my side youngling. Although things are calm now, there are many perils out there.¡± He squints as he scans the surrounding forest.


    There he goes again. I can¡¯t figure this guy out. His personality is all over the place! He is either really grumpy and downright rude, or he can be helpful and kinda nice. Am I triggering some of the V.I. scripts the wrong way?


    ¡­


    I have to talk some more to my advisor. Hell. Who else am I supposed to talk to for a year? My other goblin minions?


    I shiver at the thought. The rest of my goblins seem to have a generic personality. Dumb, single minded and single purposed. There is not a trace of intelligence in them. They probably have a very low grade V.I. installed, making them do little else than what they were initially designed to do. I can guarantee they won¡¯t beat any Turing tests anytime soon. I guess it¡¯s just me and good old Gut here for the foreseeable future¡­


    I look over at Gut. He got his back turned to me, carefully observing the surrounding forest. He does seem concerned about my well being, despite his dickish personality.


    I sigh.


    This is a strategy game. This isn¡¯t a game that is made for a person to single handedly win the game. I need to use all the resources at my disposal. I¡¯m no longer the Solo-Butcher. Gut is my most powerful asset. I need to get him on my side. No matter what.


    ¡°Gut¡­¡± I have to find out what makes him tick. If I don¡¯t find common ground with him, I will eventually go insane. He can¡¯t be all bad? I have seen glimpses of a likeable guy in there.


    ...


    Damn it. I can¡¯t do it.


    I really shouldn¡¯t try to play this one like a game. I just can¡¯t look at him as a string of ones and zeroes. A computer program designed for the sole purpose of being a tool.


    I get a sick feeling in my stomach when I think about just using him. Like some sort of disposable tool. He is more than that. The high end V.I., and A.I.¡¯s these days counts as sentient beings in some countries already, and I have even considered an A.I. my friend in the past. When did I become this cynical? I should just be honest with him.


    ¡°Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for disrespecting you. I know I can act like an arrogant twat sometimes¡­ and I usually don¡¯t care what people think of me.¡±


    I take a deep breath before I continue. ¡°I am used to being alone and do my own things in my own way. Truth is, I¡¯m good at it. Really good. But that won¡¯t help me here. I can¡¯t build up this tribe alone. Your knowledge has already benefited me and the tribe as a whole greatly, and I have no doubt that with your guidance, our tribe can really grow into something. Something good. And I need you to do this.¡± My pre planned manipulative speech quickly turns into something far too honest. Djeezes. I¡¯m going out on a whim here really. My head feels strangely light.


    The old mage turns slowly. His eyes meet mine. There is no trace of his customary angry growl or condescending look.


    ¡°Know this, youngling. A true chieftain should never apologise in such a way to one of his subjects. It shows weakness. A weakness your enemies will take advantage of.¡± His voice is firm. I can see his eyes harden as he steels his resolve.


    ¡°But you show great wisdom in acknowledging your shortcomings. Perhaps I can make a true chieftain of you after all?¡± A smile forms beneath his hood. He manages to cover his eyes, trying to hide his true emotions. He doesn¡¯t fool me. Beneath that thick layer of grumpy old person lays a decent human¡­ goblin being. I quickly wipe away what is an aspiring tear from the corner of my eye.


    ¡°Thank you Gut.¡±


    Silence overcomes us. We just sit there for a while, taking in the sounds of the forest. Bird chimes and crickets can be heard from short distances away, and the sound of the waterfall breaking the surface of the pool is almost hypnotic.


    Gut and I just shared a moment. A true and honest moment. I feel great! It feels as if a burden has been lifted from my chest. I didn¡¯t know I held all this in. My head and chest feel as if I can finally breathe and think straight for the first time in years. Who would have thought all I needed to do to find relief would be to pay twenty thousand euros to play a video game with potentially millions of people-


    ¡­


    Naah. Nobody saw that embarrassing moment. Who would want to watch someone like me with all these celebrities playing? I¡¯m a nobody. Hardly worth the time. Maybe if I survive until the top hundred?


    I shrug.


    Right. Enough time spent on my ass. No rest for the wicked. What¡¯s next on my list? My goblins are already pretty autonomous. It¡¯s a relief I don¡¯t have to constantly micromanage them. I guess this opens up my time to get stronger.


    Speaking of getting stronger¡­ how strong am I?


    ¡°I need to ascertain my strengths and capabilities. Do you have any insight?¡± I ask my advisor.


    ¡°Grr¡­ Words of power. Status screen.¡± He grunts at me. The grunt is far less hostile this time. Yep. I definitely made some progress here. I follow his advice and try to will the blue window to appear. Crossing my fingers it won¡¯t tell me that I don¡¯t meet any god damned requirement.


    Status Screen


    Name: Greg¡¯lok


    Race: Goblin


    Tribe: Dark Fangs


    Level: 0


    Rank: Tribal Leader


    Class: Ranger


    Stats


    Power: 0


    Constitution: 0


    Commander: 0


    Defender: 0


    Taskmaster: 0


    Craftsmanship: 0


    Trainer: 0


    Diplomat: 0


    Unallocated points: 0


    Skills


    Class skill (Passive): [Enhanced Aim]


    Ranged Mastery: Level 15


    -Crossbow Specialization: Level 10


    --[Eagle Sight]


    --[Long Shot]


    Melee Mastery: Level 10


    -Dagger Specialization: Level 5


    --[Backstab]


    Utility Mastery: Level 10


    -Tracking: Level 5


    -Concealment: Level 5


    Equipment


    Main Weapon: Tier 3. Crossbow / Iron Bolts (100%)


    Secondary Weapon: Tier 2. Bronze Dagger (100%)


    Head: None


    Chest: Tier 3. Leather Chainmail Tunic (100%)


    Legs: Tier 3. Leather Chainmail Pants (100%)


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.Hands: None


    Feet: Tier 3. Hardened Leather Boots (100%)


    Bag: Tier 2. Utility Belt (4 Slots), Quiver (Iron Bolts)


    Items: None


    Now we are talking! Some good old juicy information!


    I quickly browse through my status, and soon come to a realisation. These stats don¡¯t make any sense! [Commander]? [Taskmaster]? What the hell is this? What happened to the good old Strength and Agility stats? How am I supposed to know what any of this means? And why do I keep asking myself questions when I can just ask Gut?


    ¡­


    For fucks sake Greg.


    ¡°Gut? Can you tell me everything you know about stats? Oh, and also how many stat points I gain per level?¡± I ask the mage. He seems to have noticed something odd about my behaviour, because he gives me a very concerned look.


    I show him my best and brightest smile.


    There is no way for me to follow the V.I.¡¯s train of thoughts, but I¡¯m glad he decides to ignore whatever it is.


    ¡°Grr¡­ ¡° He starts. I buckle down for a lengthy speech. ¡°You gain five points per level. The [Power] and the [Constitution] stats¡­¡±


    ¡°Woah hold on! I don¡¯t need to hear about those two. They seem pretty straight forward. Could you please tell me about the rest?¡± Ok. I am prepared for a long speech, but there are limits to my patience.


    ¡°Grr... Insolent youngling. Fine. The [Commander] and [Defender] stats affect your forces offensive, and defensive capabilities. I¡¯m sure a youngling like you can guess which does what.¡± He growls. Shit. Guess I shouldn¡¯t have cut his explanation short. Nothing angers an old person more than being denied their pointlessly long explanations. Just like my late grandpa Bill.


    ¡°Do you know by how much?¡± I ask politely. Emergency relationship reparations: Activate.


    ¡°Grr¡­ Every level of skill increases their powers by one percent.¡± He grumbles back. I¡¯m a little surprised. I expected a diffuse answer. Not something as specific as percentages. Having Gut talk of percentages makes him sound way out of character.


    Oh well. I¡¯m not complaining!


    ¡°Next is the [Taskmaster] and [Craftsmanship]¡­¡± He continues. Not giving me a moment to satisfy my inner statistics hunger. ¡°These increases the gathering rate of resources, and the effectiveness of your craftsmen... by one percent each level.¡± He says that last part after a moment of consideration. I guess he predicted what I was going to ask next. My V.I. mage is intelligent. I wonder how much it would cost me to bring him with me out of the game?


    Anyhow. These stats are just as simple and straightforward as the two first ones. One percent increase to effectiveness to specific units. I wonder if they are empire wide or local area? Probably empire wide. I believe.


    Clearly reading my facial expression, Gut continues.


    ¡°The [Diplomat] stat is different. It allows you to open trade relations with other factions after investing five points. Five points allow you to trade with your own biome, and all bordering biomes. You need to have built a Storehouse or a Granary to use it. Every ten additional points invested expands the radius of available trade partners by another circle of biomes expanding away from your own. Also, every ten invested points allows you to [Subjugate] a defeated player.¡±


    Woah, hold on! Information dump warning! This is a big one. No, not a big one. A huge one! Trading? This game allows me to trade with other players? Damn. I need to consider dumping points into this one. It will really help with my racial lack of prowess when it comes to physical labor. I can sell foraged food and herbs to reap great rewards.


    There¡¯s also the ability to subjugate an enemy player that I defeat. I wonder how that works?


    ¡°Do you know how [Subjugate] works?¡±


    Gut grumbles lowly. ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡­


    Well that¡¯s a bummer. I suppose it¡¯s just that kind of thing the developers want you to take a chance at trying? Ten points though¡­ that¡¯s two whole levels! That¡¯s not something to scoff at. I¡¯m going to put a pin in this one. It¡¯s not like subjugation of a faction is going to happen anytime soon.


    I nod for Gut to continue his explanation.


    ¡°The [Trainer] stat increases the rate of which your troops gain new skills. One percent increase per point.¡±


    Oh? This sounds like a good one. This game doesn¡¯t give me any stats to my units except for skills. This should probably mean their strength is solely based on skills and equipment. Gaining skills and leveling them should be priority number one. I wonder what the ratio between skills and output is?


    Proceeding my inquiries to how my skills work, Gut goes into far more detail. He tells me that there are several layers to the skill system and how the individual skills work. Every major skill discipline falls under four general categories. These are called Masteries. They are aptly named [Ranged Mastery], [Melee Mastery], [Spell Mastery] and [Utility Mastery].


    Most skills fall within these four categories, except for certain special abilities. For example, my class skill has a passive ability called [Enhanced Aim]. It¡¯s pretty neat. When an ability is passive, it means the ability is always active. It¡¯s like a minor cheat skill to make me more accurate with ranged weapons than other people.


    Another neat feature of the Mastery levels is that they increase the skill gain of subskills with a lower level by a hundred percent per five levels below! This makes sense. If an experienced goblin who fights with a dagger for a long time suddenly decides to use a spear, then it would be weird if he wasn¡¯t quicker on the uptake learning a new weapon than a freshly summoned scrub. No?


    I have the subskill [Crossbows Specialization] at level ten, with a [Ranged Mastery] at level fifteen. This means I should gain crossbow levels twice as quickly. At least for the next five levels. And that doesn¡¯t even take the leveling of [Bow Specialization] into account! I would learn how to use the bow with a 300 percent boost! My hands are itching at the thought of grinding some skill levels.


    Gut further explains to me how every level of skill increases the effect of said skill by one percent. This means with a crossbow specialization at level ten, I do ten percent extra damage. Not bad at all! I wonder how high it can go¡­


    Having ten levels in crossbow specialization also unlocked two active abilities for me to use. According to Gut, every five levels of weapon or spell specialization grants a new skill or spell. I gained the abilities [Eagle Sight] and [Long Shot]. [Eagle Sight] sort of works like a binocular. You know¡­ without the Binocular part. I can zoom in my sight at will, observing distant objects as if they were within the reach of my hand. Pretty neat.


    My other active crossbow skill is a little different. [Long Shot] allows me to increase the range I can use my crossbow at. It involves some odd gymnastics where I sit down on the ground, using my feet to steady the crossbow and shooting in long controlled arcs to hit objects further away without losing much precision.


    ¡­


    No, I can¡¯t really explain that one better.


    Oh and I also have a dagger skill, [Backstab]. It allows me to increase my damage done if I hit the enemy in it¡¯s back. It¡¯s simple. I like it.


    Looking through my status, I see that I have an even mix of different skills. I have a decent skill using my crossbow, but I also have a series of utility based skills. This must be because of my class. I have five levels in both [Tracking] and [Concealment]. They both seem to be passive abilities, meaning I don¡¯t have to consciously think about them to use them. I doubt I will use tracking much, but the concealment one should be my leveling priority number one!


    And I know exactly how I¡¯m going to level it up. A wide grin slowly creeps over my face.


    Learning about how skills work puts a lot of things into perspective. Mainly the balance between the [Trainer] stat and the rest. The [Trainer] stat obviously helps my troops get into tip top fighting force quickly, which makes it a strong early choice. Later in the game however, the rate of gaining skill levels should greatly deteriorate. This makes the hard percentage bonus from the [Commander] and [Defender] stat much more valuable to have, since it greatly boosts the power of my strongest units. It¡¯s like the stat equivalent of caffeine.


    Hmm. This makes allocating my stat points a much more difficult task than I thought.


    ¡°Gut? Is there a way for me to reset my stat points?¡±


    The mage perks up at the sound of my question. A small glint in his eyes shines from under his hood. I guess I hit the question jackpot, because Gut is brimming with pride. Perhaps there is a limiter on the V.I. that prevents it from telling me all the hidden information gems until I ask them of my own volition?


    Hell. I¡¯m going to to have a lot of lengthy talks with my advisor over the following days.


    ¡°You can indeed, youngling. There is a cost however. To reset your stat points you have to make a sacrifice at an altar. The process will also make you lose one of your already accumulated levels.¡± He nods sagely.


    ¡°Altar?¡±


    ¡°Grr¡­ You will understand when you build one later youngling. No need to rush. Focus on the here and now.¡± Well I¡¯ll be damned. Gut really loves doing this entire teacher thing, huh?


    Whatever floats his boat.


    This is a load off my mind however. Knowing I can reallocate my points in the future is a huge safety boon for me. It means I can tailor my stats to my early game, and quickly adapt it when needed if something big goes down.


    Too bad I don¡¯t have any stat points. I will cross that bridge when I get to it.


    So that¡¯s that then. I learned a ton. During Gut¡¯s explanation, we had walked back over to my little goblin tribe. Everyone is still hard at work. The sun has started to set, and my first day in this world should near its end. Nah. There is still a few hours of daylight left.


    I want to test out some of my skills!


    I look around, trying to decide what I want to do first. I only have ten fighters, and they are still hard at work grinding their own skills. I don¡¯t want to mess up their development, so I guess I have to find something else to do.


    My builders are currently hammering away at some pieces of pinewood, raising the first supporting beams to hold up the walls and roof. They haven¡¯t progressed too far, even after a few hours at work. I was hoping the process would be quicker with six of them. I guess I won¡¯t be able to build Rome in a day after all. This project alone will probably take two or three days at this pace.


    Shrugging, I notice one of my goblins sitting idly next to the builders. A quick inspect shows it¡¯s my Hauler. Damn. There is nothing for him to haul, is there? Shit. Should have summoned another builder.


    ¡°Hey you! Come over here!¡± I command the idle goblin. He quickly jumps to his feet and scurries over. I am going to train up my skill with my crossbow, and he is just perfect for helping me with this.


    Ten minutes later, the preparations are done. I grab my crossbow and run my hand across the stock. It¡¯s a well made crossbow. The wood is smooth to the touch, and a well spun string is nicely tied between the two limbs. I pull back the string and secure it with a metal hook. The wood lets out a small creaking sound as the pressure builds.


    I grab a bolt from my quiver and gently place it at the center of my crossbow. I lift the crossbow up to my chin and take aim. I steady my breath. With a twitch of my finger, the bolt releases. It soars through the air and hits the target square in the center with a soft thump.


    ¡°WOOH! Did you see that Gut!?¡± I yell in glee. I didn¡¯t expect to hit so well.


    ¡°Grr¡­ younglings these days¡­¡± He mutters behind me. What a party pooper. I¡¯m a freaking sniper now! Be aware!


    My hauler did a real good job with this one. He carried over a large pile of grass and tied it into a tight ball. Perfect practice target for my crossbow. I can do this all night baby!


    My hauler joins me in my cheerful dancing, completely caught up in the moment. I love this guy! Gut stands idly to the side, muttering a few well spirited curses under his breath. I¡¯ll make that old geezer come around eventually. I swear.


    With a pat on the shoulder, I dismiss my hauler. I tell him to walk around the settlement and offer to carry things around for anyone who needs it. I¡¯m sure the gatherers or the lumberjacks could use some extra muscle.


    My next three hours follow the same pattern.


    Aim, release, reload. Aim, release, reload.


    I even throw in a couple of [Long Shot]s every now and then just for fun. I don¡¯t use it too often though. Sitting on the ground in this weird yoga position just feels really awkward.


    The entire ordeal feels very weird. I repeat the process with much quicker and precise movements than I thought possible. I¡¯m too good at it. Obviously, I¡¯m not a complete novice at using a crossbow in games. The crossbow was one of my main choices of weapons in Yggdrasil Online, and I have fired hundreds of thousands of bolts. The game mechanics in YO weren¡¯t as realistic as in this one though. The YO crossbows pretty much auto reloaded themselves and I could feel the inbuilt system¡¯s auto assist fine tune my movements.


    This game is the complete opposite. I have to perform every single action that comes with handling a crossbow, and my hands move as if I have done this for years. How did the developers do this? Did they download this knowledge directly into my brain? Which again also transferred the movements to my muscle memory? I shudder at the thought of how creepy it feels. But it¡¯s still awesome in a way.


    Even with the hundred percent boost to skill acquisition however, the process is slow and tedious. I don¡¯t make any progress, and I soon start to dread the thought if it¡¯s even possible to level my skill like this.


    ¡­


    Should I ask Gut? I look over towards my advisor. His eyes scan the forest, looking for threats. Like a true sentinel.


    I decide not to ask him. What if someone is watching? I have to be determined this will work. What sort of fool does the same thing for three hours straight and THEN asks his wikipedia companion if it is possible. I shake my head. Gotta stick to it.


    After another hour peppering my grassy target, a blue window removes my budding fear.


    Congratulations!


    You have gained 1 skill level in [Crossbow Specialization]!


    Thank god. Oh holy thank the almighty god above. It is possible! And in only four hours? For such a high level skill? And I even have the hundred percent boost to skill acquisition. Still, this is going to take some time.


    I wonder how my fighters are doing? They had no skills, and they have been working for around six hours. Even with no mastery bonus, they should still have gained a level or two. Or so I hope.


    I decide to take a break. I discovered a nice little feature with being a ranged unit though. My quiver never empties! I have an unlimited supply of crossbow bolts. The bolts I shoot disappear on their own after about five minutes. So much for making a clutter. I¡¯m happy though. Would be a shame to run out of bolts before I can recruit a fletcher.


    I make a few light stretches and place my crossbow back over my shoulder. I start my short trek back to where my fighters are still smacking each other around by the pool. When I reach them, I inspect one of my spear wielding goblins.


    Goblin Fighter


    Class: None


    Specialization: None


    Skills:


    Melee Mastery: Level 2


    -Spear Specialization: Level 2


    Perk: None


    Morale: ???


    Yes! Two levels to [Melee Mastery] AND [Spear Specialization]! Now that¡¯s a good way to powerlevel my troops! And after only six hours? Imagine what they can do in twelve! Or in actual combat. I can¡¯t wait to test all this out.


    I wonder if any of the other contestants bother to train their units like this? It most certainly wasn¡¯t obvious from the start. Some might just have their fighters on guard duty! Hah! Suckers!


    I have to step up my crafting game. I need to get them some armor and decent weapons. No point in having a minion with a high skill level with the club if I¡¯m going to give him a sword as soon as I can get my grubby mitts on them. There are so many things I have to do! Not only do I have to focus on their weapon skills, but there should also be plenty of utility based skills like concealment and tracking I need to consider.


    No matter. I already decided to focus more heavily on damage output than defence. My main goal is getting their weapon skill to a level that makes them able to win in a fair fight.


    The work day is coming to an end. My foragers and hunters are returning from the deep woods, and my lumberjacks and builders lower their tools. The most important part of their day is rapidly approaching.


    Dinner!


    The mass of goblins all flock around the stockpile of resources. There is a small commotion when the goblins start fighting among themselves. I move over to break it up, but the problem seems to resolve itself without my intervention. The stronger goblins fight off the workers. They grab a piece of cooked meat and head over to the small water to sit near me and Gut. The rest of the workers grab their own food and sit slightly further away.


    That¡¯s strange. It seems like they just created some sort of hierarchy or caste system? It must be a peculiarity of the goblin race. Fascinating.


    Soon, a small campfire erupts in our midst, and the overall mood starts to rise. The fire grows larger as my goblins feed the fire with small twigs that litter the ground around us. It doesn¡¯t take long until we got a large bonfire going. The whole atmosphere reminds me of a beach party I attended a few years back with some old childhood friends. It¡¯s one of my better memories. It was the first time I drank beer.


    Gut and I were the first to be served food, and we currently sit on the nicest tuft of grass that could be found. Gut pulls out a small water skin and hands it to me.


    ¡°Here. Looks like you need it youngling.¡± He says in a gruff voice. I can see traces of a smirk on his lips, although I might be wrong. The light from the bonfire could be playing tricks on me.


    I grab the water skin and take a good mouthful out of it.


    Bad idea.


    It tastes horrendous! My gagging reflex kicks in and I desperately clench my lips together, trying to avoid returning the drink to Gut at mach speed. I eventually manage to settle my throat and swallow. A little of the liquid enters the wrong pipe and a massive coughing fit ensues.


    *Cough* ¡°What the fuck was that!?¡± I shout at Gut.


    ¡°That, little youngling, was your reward for not getting us all killed today.¡± He laughs. Shit. The gremlin can laugh?


    ¡°What? If that was a reward, I fear to think about what you consider a punishment.¡± I shudder.


    ¡°Ah, don¡¯t act like such an elf.¡± He smirks.


    ¡°Oh please... I reckon if I were an elf, I wouldn¡¯t have touched that thing with a ten foot long spear.¡±


    ¡°Only if you could lift it!¡± He roars. I join in.


    I have no idea what¡¯s up with this V.I.¡¯s sense of humor, but I like it. We sit around the bonfire for about an hour, passing the wine skin back and forth. I think the wine skin has the same magic function as my quiver, because it never seems to empty.


    We pass the time making jokes about elves, pixies, trolls and¡­ pretty much any other race than goblins. If I were to make an educated guess, I¡¯d say Gut is actually quite the racist. But that¡¯s okay when the other guy is clearly a different species¡­ Isn¡¯t it?


    Night descends upon us. Light is quickly fading and it¡¯s getting hard to see. The bonfire is still burning, and my goblins are starting to fall asleep around me. My ingame clock says it¡¯s around eleven in the evening. I think I logged into the game at around three. My first day is officially coming to an end. Shit. I can¡¯t believe I might stay in here for a full year. Maybe longer.


    This is going to be one hell of a long ride.

 Chapter 8 – The Art of Magic

    Chapter 8 ¨C The Art of Magic


    ¡°Welcome back to Fantasy Now!¡± Amanda¡¯s voice booms over a cheering crowd. Her radiant smile is entrancing her viewers.


    ¡°Tonight we got a lot of great highlights for you. We are going to see some of the first footage ever of Fantasy Royale, and we have compiled the best highlights of what has happened so far. Later on in the show, we will present some of our featured storylines and the background for them. We will also release the identities of the players currently featuring our most popular storyline so far; the Avenger Storyline!¡± Wild cheering erupts from the crowd. Amanda¡¯s grin widens.


    ¡°That¡¯s right everyone! And with me today, is none other than Logan Andrews himself. Creator and lead designer of Fantasy Royale!¡± The crowd start cheering at the moment Logan¡¯s name is mentioned. The cheerful man is sporting one of his brightest smiles yet. A natural showman.


    He waves to the crowd and waits for the cheering to calm down. Amanda quickly picks up the pace.


    ¡°The players connected to the game only eight hours ago, but we have already seen a lot of interesting developments happening all over the world!¡± The hype is building as a montage of epic scenes flash across the screen. Small warbands of undead, lizardmen and trolls can be seen marching across various terrains, wielding rusted swords and dented clubs. Groups of orcs, kobolds and humans cut down trees, build houses and mine for ore. A small cluster of harpies soars over a dense forest at night. Their eyes locked onto a small column of smoke rising in the distance.


    ¡°As you can see, the players are already hard at work making a name for themselves. Mister Logan¡­¡± She turns over and faces her guest. Once more leaning in a way that amplifies the effect of her cleavage.


    ¡°Now that the game is out, and the contestants are in game, perhaps you can finally tell us some more about how the game works?¡± She leans in further, putting on her best seductive smile. Amanda isn¡¯t one to waste an opportunity.


    ¡°Please, call me Logan. I suppose I can. But you know¡­ I don¡¯t really feel like it!¡± The man spreads his arms helplessly and leans back in his chair. His youthful smirk taunting the poor girl.


    Not expecting such an answer, Amanda is caught off guard. She giggles to cover up the fact that she momentarily froze. Her years of experience bearing fruits. She quickly gathers herself and presses on.


    ¡°You¡¯re quite the mysterious man, aren¡¯t you Logan? Why do you keep your cards this close to your chest?¡± She asks, lowering her voice and gives him an inquisitive stare.


    Logan just stares back at her. Barely able to contain his laughter.


    ¡°There is a very good reason why I don¡¯t share this information you know Amanda¡­¡± He says playfully.


    ¡°Which is?¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°It¡¯s boring!¡± He suddenly shouts. Chuckling at his own joke.


    Amanda¡¯s eye twitches with irritation. She¡¯s had to deal with a lot of difficult interview subjects during the span of her career, but none has ever gotten under her skin like this overgrown manchild.


    Before she can respond, Logan continues.


    ¡°But of course I won¡¯t leave everyone hanging. I¡¯ll release the full ingame wikipedia online after this interview. People can read up on the game to their heart¡¯s content.¡±


    Amanda¡¯s smile stiffens. She starts laughing with Logan, buying some time to collect herself. She has to get out of his pace and regain some control over the interview.


    ¡°That is some incredible news Logan! I¡¯m certain a lot of our viewers out there are just itching to get their hands on the wikipedia. There is however, something even more interesting that has happened ingame!¡± Amanda directs everyone¡¯s attention to herself. She is ready to use the ace up her sleeve.


    She waits for the crowd to settle down once more.


    ¡°Only a few hours ago, we had our first battle between players!¡± Cheering erupts once more. Amanda¡¯s smile widens, raising her hands to try calm the crowd. She is just about to get to the good part.


    ¡°We bring you live footage from biome D-13! We follow the player Harvalon of The Blair Witch flock who has just launched a massive attack on his unsuspecting neighbour. Let¡¯s see how it goes!¡± She gestures upwards towards the large studio monitor.


    The screen changes, and the focus switches to player view. This way the audience can see the game through the eyes of the player Harvalon. Gliding across the night sky behind roughly two dozen harpy warriors. The all female harpies are all nearly naked with just a tiny piece of cloth covering their private parts. They look like child size women with wings for arms and sharp talons attached to bird legs. A set of needle like teeth announces a second deadly weapon at their disposal. They are clearly a race made up of natural predators.


    The camera releases from the harpy¡¯s viewpoint and starts rotating in a wide circle around her, giving us a good look at her capabilities. The leader of this pack of hunters is geared differently than her warriors. This harpy has her talons enhanced with metal spikes, further increasing their deadliness. A leather and chainmail tunic is tightly wrapped to her body, and a small, metal reinforced leather helmet is neatly attached to her head.


    This peculiar character appears to be of a fighter type, wielding good armor while also being armed with deadly melee weapons. One stops to wonder how this race even managed to craft gear with such odd hands?


    The night sky is quiet, and no sound is made as the hunters prepare to descend upon their unsuspecting prey. A few shadows can be seen around a bonfire in the distance. Its fires illuminating the night sky. The owners all but oblivious to their impending doom.


    Harvalon already has her plan prepared. Her advisor has carefully scouted ahead and found their target. He is located right beside the bonfire, accompanied by his own advisor. The information provided tells of a green skinned leader dressed in leather armor wielding an unknown weapon. His advisor is clearly a spellcaster but of unknown origin. The game doesn¡¯t allow one to accurately inspect one¡¯s opponent without getting reasonably close. Something the scouts couldn¡¯t risk doing.


    It doesn¡¯t matter though. This is all within her calculations. As long as the player doesn¡¯t wear plate armor, her plan has a high probability of success.


    She signals for her warriors to start the assault. Quick and precise.


    The harpies immediately react and make a dive towards the target. From her spot up high, Harvalon observes how the enemy¡¯s advisor starts shouting. A couple of ice lances shooting up and impaling a few of her harpies.


    Too little too late.


    The rest of the harpies quickly close the distance and floods the enemy leader, tearing at his flesh. The player yells in terror as a massive wave of feathers and claws fills his vision. His own warriors run towards him, weapons in hand¡­ but it¡¯s too late.


    With a last shriek of despair, the player dies. His half-drawn double axes slumps to the ground.


    Ork¡¯Grimlar, Orc Berserker of the Bloodied Jaw tribe met his end.


    ----------


    *Thunk*Thunk*Thunk*


    ¡°What the fuck is that noise!?¡± I shout as my slumber is interrupted by an abrupt noise. Dazed, I look around and spot my merry bunch of goblins hard at work, chopping wood and raising support beams for the Granary. ¡°Oh right¡­¡± I mutter while I let my head rest on a tuft of grass, slumping my shoulders.


    Just five more minutes.


    ¡­


    *Pling* a sharp noise resounds in my mind. My eyes shoot open to this unfamiliar feeling, and I¡¯m greeted by the good old translucent blue window covering my vision.


    Congratulations for surviving your first day!


    Players who died during the last day:


    Gimley (Dwarf) of the House Of Derpin clan has died to a cave collapse in Biome A-2.


    FiftyPercentOffAllWares (Murloc) of the AtFurryFurnitureDotCom tribe has drowned in Biome C-6.


    Ork¡¯Grimlar (Orc) of the Bloodied Jaw tribe has been slain by Harvalon (Harpy) of the Blair Witch flock in Biome D-13.


    Players remaining: 537/540


    I hazily read through the list of players who died. My mind perks as I make mental notes of the small fragments of useful information that reveals itself. The first player, Gimley, seems to have died to a natural accident. So that¡¯s possible huh? Geez. What an unlucky guy. I guess I shouldn¡¯t try out new things myself.


    The second guy who died makes me chuckle a little bit. How did that guy even manage to get through the selection phase? Good old fashion spam. Not even this game with its insanely tough criteria to join can¡¯t weed out the spambots. Classic spambots. Can¡¯t beat em. Hope it was worth it!


    Oh look. He killed himself due to drowning. And he is a murloc? That¡¯s an aquatic race¡­ Interesting. So even aquatic races can¡¯t breath underwater? I must admit, that¡¯s a load off my mind. I would have severe troubles eliminating a player hiding at the bottom of a lake with my scrawny goblins. The strength of goblins are already heavily underpowered, add that to fighting underwater¡­ useless. It¡¯s good to see the aquatic races can¡¯t hide underwater indefinitely.


    And that leaves the third one¡­ wait, what? Someone killed someone already? A cold shiver crawls down my spine. I figured due to the massive scale of the biome I would be perfectly safe for at least a few days. I¡¯m such an idiot! I didn¡¯t even put out any sentries! That poor sucker could have been me.


    My eyes wander over the names of the players and their location.


    D-13? ¡­ My eyes blink a few times, trying to snap my mind back to reality and out of the depths of my slumber. That¡¯s my biome! What¡­ who¡­ how? I feel the panic creep into my mind, bringing chaos to my thoughts. A trickle of sweat runs down my green forehead. My avatar¡¯s bodily functions mirroring my state of mind.


    My skin crawls and my lungs are gasping for more air. I¡¯m already on my feet and restlessly pace around the embers of last nights bonfire. It takes several minutes for me to calm down and recollect the remaining shards of my sanity.


    I fucked up.


    I wasn¡¯t prepared.


    One of my neighbours has already fallen, and another player has assumed the mantle of top dog. The bonus experience and loot he must have gained must be huge! What are the benefits for a leveled up player anyway? He must have gained something for first kill. What if he can now summon more units than the rest of us? That¡¯s horrible! The rest of us must be days, maybe weeks behind! What is to stop this guy from preying on the rest of us? He is in my damned biome for fucks sake!


    Once more I feel the panic creep up on me. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before I waste more precious time.


    How did Harvalon do this?


    My mind once again peruses the information available to me. He is playing a harpy. Shit. Does this game have races capable of flying? I mentally beat myself up over the fact that I didn¡¯t consider it at all. A flying force has always been superior when it comes to mobility and recon throughout modern history. Why not even more so in a medieval setting? I can¡¯t picture my goblins wielding heat seeking missiles any time soon¡­


    Hrmpf. Naah. The boon of having a flying race must come with some heavy penalizing. Elsewise, it would be far too overpowered. It¡¯s a daring move to choose a flying race blind. Harvalon must have had a plan to this.


    What is he thinking?


    Mulling this question over in my mind for a few minutes, I come up with nothing. Damn. How did he do it? It¡¯s so risky. He must have had a plan that accounts for the risk invested in it¡­ How did he¡­ How would I do it?


    A couple of scenarios quickly pass through my mind, and I analyze the strength and weakness of each one.


    There is one strategy in particular that comes to mind.


    If I were Harvalon, I would use one of the most time tested strategy game tactics out there. The one popular go-to strategy in any newly released strategy game. It¡¯s a timeless classic in its own rights. The tactic was aptly named for the game in which it was invented, late in the twentieth century.


    It must have been a Zerg Rush.


    The simple and brilliant strategy of spawning a massive amount of the cheapest warrior units you can muster and quickly send the entire pack of them all at once to directly target a single objective, destroying it by overwhelming your opponent before he is prepared.


    Taking his flying units into consideration, and the element of surprise, this must be the best tactic to defeat an enemy with the least amount of losses possible. Ork¡¯Grimlar probably didn¡¯t see it coming. I certainly wouldn¡¯t.


    I¡¯m both scared and impressed about the prowess of Harvalon. Being able to deduce this possible strategy from the limited amount of time we had to peruse the available races available to us. Genius. This player is top notch. And he is so close¡­


    What is his next move?


    I can only assume Harvalon will continue his rampage through the biome. Even accounting the losses of a Zerg Rush, considering he probably spawned close to thirty warriors, he should still have me beat in fighting force with at least a two to one ratio. Probably more.


    Shit. I¡¯m not ready for this.


    The best way for someone to beat a Zerg Rush has always been to focus on strong early defensive structures. Damn. That¡¯s not possible for me. It would take far too long, and the Harpies would just fly straight above them.


    Fuck.


    What else can I do? I can¡¯t spawn an army to match him quickly enough, and what is to stop him from just rushing straight at me? I got nothing.


    ¡­


    I need to hide.


    The only tactic available for me is to just hide. Staying out of sight and hoping for the enemy not to single me out and rush straight at me. It¡¯s a good short time plan, but not a good one overall. What¡¯s to stop him from constantly harassing my troops, killing them off one by one before hunting me down en-masse?


    There is no coming back from that.


    I try to rack my brain for a good answer, but none come to me. It quickly dawns on me that I need more information. Harvalon could be here at any time. Although he could be attacking any of the three other players here. I hope so. I need time.


    Luckily he also needs information. He needs to send out scouts and prepare his attack. Considering the time we had available yesterday after we had logged in, and adding the time spent finding his opponent¡­ also scouting out his targets¡­ he must have struck at night. Allright. That¡¯s a reasonable assumption. There is a lot on the line, and a player like Harvalon most likely won¡¯t do anything foolish by attacking without having his bases covered.


    I can also assume his troops has to rest for the night. Good. That gives me more time. It¡¯s also reasonable to assume he attacked his own closest neighbour. The logic for his next move should then be to attack the neighbour on the other side of his starting territory, securing his position with a defensive buffer incase something goes wrong. It should take several hours for him to cover this distance. He also needs to scout for the enemy¡¯s base.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    A quick estimate tells me that at best, I should have at least six hours before a potential assault.


    Ok.


    Time to get my ass in gear.


    Looking around, I can see my goblins are all hard at work. The Granary is coming along nicely as the foundation and flooring seem to be completed. Or maybe just close to completion? No matter. They are making progress.


    My lumberjacks each felled a couple of trees last night, and they are all going through the strenuous activity of stripping the branches off and splitting the log into workable lumber. This is hard work and it doesn¡¯t look very efficient considering the axes they use look like little more than sticks with a sharp rock attached to it. Adding the fact that they also suffer a severe debuff through the ¡®Weak¡¯ racial trait, they are actually moving along at a good pace.


    My foragers have collected a nice pile of roots, berries and mushrooms. Inspecting them, I check their properties.


    Foraged Edibles


    Consumable food. Foraged type. Increases morale by 5 when eaten for 24 hours (effect does not stack with same food type).


    Degradation: ???


    Ooh, that¡¯s nice. As I suspected, it¡¯s a different food type than the meat I started with. It gives five morale for twenty-four hours once consumed. It also doesn¡¯t stack with the same food type. This should mean I can stack the morale buff with the meat type of food. But how? My goblins only eat one meal per day, and they refuse to eat more portions. Believe me. I tried. During my drunken stupor last night I announced that all goblins get to eat as much food as they want. I should consider myself lucky that none of them wanted more. Not even my goblins with the [Glutton] perk! Although they did eat two portions the first time they ate. Weirdos.


    Hmm. I can probably combine them if I get a cook. Right. Need one of those asap!


    My hunters sit by themselves by the pool of water. I almost didn¡¯t notice them. Apparently they caught a rabbit, a chipmunk and a bird last night, and they are now busy skinning their kills and separating the meat, leather and feathers. Nice. I didn¡¯t expect them to actually do all this, and it should help with upping my resource count. I really need to consider getting some craftsmen as soon as possible.


    Sigh. So much to do¡­


    I better check my resources. I walk over to my big pile of stuff and look it over. The pile has lessened somewhat since yesterday. A great pile of pinewood, grass and meat is gone. Some assorted foodstuffs has been added as well as a couple pieces of stone. Seems like my masons are making progress too!


    The biggest decline in my resources appears to be grass. Grass is one of my most needed resources for building. Shit. I don¡¯t have anyone to gather this, do I?


    ¡°Gut!¡± I yell while looking around, trying to locate my advisor.


    ¡°Not so loud youngling!¡± A voice shouts behind me. Pain assaults my senses as my vision goes black.


    ¡°Fuck that hurts!¡±


    As my vision clears, I turn around and stand face to face with Gut. His hands are clenched around his wooden staff slash beating stick. I stare directly into his bloodshot eyes. Gut must have one hell of a hangover.


    ¡°What the fuck man. Djeez. I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t see you. Calm down.¡± I say, trying my best not to snap back at him too hard. There is no reason to ruin our relationship before it has fully sprouted. ¡°Our grass stock is dwindling. Do you know which workers can gather more?¡±


    ¡°Grr¡­ younglings¡­ tssk¡­ yelling for this¡­¡± He grumbles. Clearly dissatisfied. ¡°You need a goblin with the [Gatherer] profession.¡± He finally snorts.


    A gatherer? Duuh. I should have figured. I actually did consider picking one of these professions yesterday, but I figured they were similar to my foragers. But wait a minute. An entire profession just to gather grass?


    ¡­


    Are you kidding me? Is that even a thing? Why¡­ An image of a goblin walking around telling everyone he is a professional grass collector appears in my mind.


    Naah. There must be more to it. I shake my head.


    Sigh. I¡¯m just going to spawn one and see what he brings me.


    Being a new day, I get to spawn three new goblins. I was initially planning on spawning three new warriors, but perhaps I have to give up a spot. Considering how weak my fighters are, one more shouldn¡¯t make much of a difference, should it?


    No.


    I have to consider defence. I can summon the gatherer tomorrow¡­ If I survive. I can¡¯t allow myself to be dragged into the crafting aspects in an unforgiving game like this.


    Opening my summoning list, I quickly tap the summon icon for the [Goblin Fighter]s three times. A brief flash of light masks the appearance of three new goblins in our midst. Clean slates.


    Inspecting their gear, I notice a new piece of equipment. One of my goblins spawned with a cracked wooden buckler along with his wooden club. Cool! I hadn¡¯t considered the possibility of shields on goblins yet. My first goblin tank has been born! Looking over the two other goblins, I make a note of their weapons. Another rusted spear and a dagger. A good haul all in all.


    I tell them to follow me. I have a special task in mind for these little buggers.


    I need to talk to Gut. I throw another glance over at my pile of resources, seeing if I forgot something.


    I did.


    Hardly visible, a small pile of odd looking plants are piled up behind the foraged food. I thought it was part of the food first, but these plants look¡­ odd. The plants have thin light green stalks with leaves that look a bit like moss. A weird thing really. I inspect one of them.


    Moss Stalk


    Herb. Healing type. Alchemical Ingredient. Doubles natural regeneration time when ingested.


    Oooh! This must be the work of my herbalist! I had forgotten about that fellow. A healing herb! Awesome! I need those. Lots of those. Gotta get myself an alchemist as soon as possible.


    ¡­


    My list of goblin priorities has grown long.


    ¡­


    Meh. I need weapons first I guess. At least the herbs don¡¯t seem to have a degradation effect like the food. I¡¯m just going to let my herbalist stack these herbs up for later use. Ingesting them seems like a waste of resources when I already have the effects from the pool of water. Anyway, time to have a good old talking session with grandpa Gobbo.


    I walk about and try to locate Gut. He usually lingers close by. It doesn¡¯t take long for me to find him, as I¡¯m drawn in by some loud snoring near the pool of water. Really? Did he fall asleep this quickly?


    ¡­


    Insomniacs everywhere must hate him.


    I stand above him, attempting not to give in to the urge to abruptly wake him. Damn. Too tempting¡­


    ¡°Morning sunshine!¡± I shout softly. I¡¯ll postpone my rude awakening schemes until he has grown more accustomed to me. There is a limit to how much of my bullshit a person can take at a time. Have to spread it around, you know?


    His eyes shoot open violently. Signs of a massive adrenaline boost hitting his cerebral cortex.


    ¡°WHAT!?¡± He shouts at me.


    Woah. If normal Gut is grumpy, it¡¯s nothing compared to what I¡¯m now seeing.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Gut, but there are important matters we must attend to.¡± I tell him. Softening my approach.


    ¡°Grrr¡­ If this is another question about your words of power¡­¡± He grumbles. ¡°I¡¯ll beat you until you resemble a hobbit.¡± His eyes pierce me. Annoyance clear on his face.


    Taken aback, I try to explain about the system messages that tells of our possible impending doom. Gut raises himself into a sitting position, quietly taking in every word. I wasn¡¯t certain he understood my explanation about the blue windows and detailed descriptions of who killed who and where. No matter, he appears to understand everything. As my explanation finally ends, I tell him of my guesses about the likely strategy of our opponent. He nods solemnly.


    ¡°This is dire news youngling¡­¡± He mutters. ¡°We must make preparations with due haste.¡±


    ¡°Yeah about that¡­¡± I speak up. I turn around and reveal the three goblin fighters following me. ¡°Think you can assign these three to sentry duty? I reckon we need to cover the approaches from our west, north and east.¡±


    Gut gives me a cold stare. He really isn¡¯t happy. After a moment of silence, he hobbles away with the goblins in tow, starting a long tirade about my shortcomings and the worthlessness of elves as he goes.


    ¡°You should also keep an eye on the sky. There are harpies about!¡± I shout after them, causing Gut to send me another glare of death. My goblins gives me a courteous nod to signal that they understand. ¡°Oh, and stay hidden! Don¡¯t be seen.¡± I add to my order. I¡¯m not sure why, but I have a gnawing sensation in my stomach telling me it¡¯s necessary.


    Before they fully depart, another thought strikes me.


    ¡°You two.¡± I point to my spear and shield & club wielding goblin. ¡°Go swap weapons with two of the other club wearing goblins.¡± I order them. No need to let my most powerful weapons go unused, is there?


    Right.


    As my goblins scurry over to the sparring area, handing over their weapons, I watch them scamper after Gut into the woods. Good. I feel safer already.


    I don¡¯t like having to use my fighters as generic scouts. This will halt their progress in advancing their proficiencies with their weapons. It¡¯s necessary though.


    It only takes a few minutes for Gut to return. The mage takes up position besides me. Mumbling a select few curses under his breath.


    I do my best to hide a smirk.


    ¡°Got any ideas on how we can prepare?¡± I eventually ask him, hoping to derail his growling. He eyes me suspiciously.


    ¡°No, youngling. This is a trial only our Chieftain can solve. We will follow your command and help as best we can.¡± He says, once again showing glimpses of his sincere side.


    ...


    Well shit. I was hoping for more.


    I find myself facing a close to impossible task. I¡¯m outmanned two to one, versus a flying opponent nonetheless. My tiny goblins are at a serious disadvantage. If it only had been a land based enemy, I could at least hide behind a goblin meat wall. Now I¡¯m left with precious few options.


    I have to consider my available options. So what do I have? Racking my brain, I come up with a small list. I have thirteen fighters, twenty workers, Gut and myself. Not the most versatile of assets. If I only had a building completed or a cave, I could hide in there, thus eliminating their aerial superiority.


    My fighters only have melee weapons as well. They¡¯re good in a brawl, but I¡¯m lacking in anti-aircraft capabilities. Only Gut and I have ranged attacks. But I suppose that only leaves Gut, since I need to hide.


    That¡¯s it. This fight is solely dependant on Gut.


    Reaching this conclusion, I do something I probably should have done yesterday. I inspect Gut.


    Status Screen


    Name: Gut


    Race: Goblin


    Tribe: Dark Fangs


    Mana: 6th rank


    Rank: Advisor


    Class: Mage


    Skills


    Class skill (Passive): [Enhanced Mana Manipulation]


    Spell Mastery: Level 20


    -Fire Specialization: Level 15


    --[Fireball]: Tier 1


    --[Flamethrower]: Tier 2


    --[Fire Blast]: Tier 3


    -Blood Specialization: Level 10


    --[Coagulate]: Tier 1


    --[Bloodrush]: Tier 2


    Melee Mastery: Level 5


    -Staff Specialization: Level 5


    --[Power Bash]


    Equipment


    Main Weapon: Tier 3. Enchanted Oak Staff (100%)


    Secondary Weapon: None


    Head: Tier 4. Enchanted Black Silk Cowl (100%)


    Chest: Tier 4. Enchanted Black Silk Robe (100%)


    Legs: Tier 4. Embroided Black Silk Pants (100%)


    Hands: None


    Feet: Tier 1. Leather Boots (100%)


    Bag: Tier 2. Utility Belt (4 Slots),


    Items: Mana Stone (Medium)


    Woah. The information dump momentarily stuns me. I didn¡¯t expect there to be an overview as extensive as my own. Reading through it, I can¡¯t help but think Gut has some really badass things going on!


    Like every Goblin, Gut also has an equipment tab. But unlike my lesser goblins who have nothing but worthless tier zero equipment, Gut sports some gear that seems to be superior even to my own! Tier four clothes! That¡¯s so unfair! I¡¯m supposed to be the boss around these parts¡­ aren¡¯t I?


    ¡­


    Grrr.


    At the very least, I have more skills than he does. Gut is only proficient at magic, whereas I can brag about several utility based abilities. He can keep his silly Fire and Blood magic. I much rather prefer to have several...


    Wait¡­ why am I happy my subordinate lacks abilities?


    ¡­


    For fucks sake Greg.


    Shaking my head at my own repeated stupidity, I move on and pretend those last few seconds don¡¯t exist. I blacked out. That¡¯s all. No biggie.


    Gut has a few things I don¡¯t. First of all, he has an item. A mana stone. Going by the logic of my gaming experience, I suppose that¡¯s some sort of magical battery pack for spell slinging. I shrug. As good a guess as any, isn¡¯t it?


    He also seems to have a mana rank of the sixth rank. Cool! I wonder how much that is? Can I unlock it too? I really want it...


    ¡°Can you tell me of your mana rank and what it means?¡±


    ¡°Grr¡­¡± He grumbles at me. He takes a deep breath before he starts explaining in detail about the art of magic.


    Apparently, there are twenty ranks of mana. The rank can only be increased by constant spell usage. The ranks determine how much magical power you have to cast spells. The scaling system is quite simple in fact. The magic system in this game consists of spell types of different tiers, and those tiered spells have a cost associated with them. For one rank of Mana, you can cast two tier one spells, half a tier two spell, one quarter of a tier three spell and one eighth of a tier four spell. A tier five spell requires every single one of the twenty mana ranks.


    This forces the magic caster to preserve his magic as best he can, since the mana ranks only restore every morning. With a mana rank at six, Gut can cast twelve tier one spells, three tier two spells or one and a half tier three spell. That¡¯s not a lot. Not much at all really... Although Gut guarantees me that the potency of his spells more than makes up for it.


    I have to just take his word for it. I would have asked for a demonstration, but I fear I can¡¯t afford to risk him expending his daily spell quota.


    I keep questioning him about the magical system.


    The spells available to learn are directly tied to the [Spell Mastery] skill tree. Each race has affinities for different types of magic. Goblins aren¡¯t considered one of the races that is most proficient at magic, so our race only has two affinities available to us. Fire and Blood magic.


    As mentioned earlier, there are five tiers of magic available. Anyone can learn tier one spells, but tier two spells require a magic specialization of at least level five. The level requirement increases exponentially from this point on. Tier three spells require a specialization of fifteen, tier four require twenty and the tier five spells require a whooping specialization level of thirty!


    I suppose that¡¯s a lot. But for the power those spells contain, it should most definitely be worth it. Grinding those levels must be horrible though, considering how few spells he can cast per day.


    ¡­


    I¡¯m interrupted by a momentary flashback of all the grinding I did last night to gain only a single specialization level to my crossbow. And that was only to level eleven¡­


    Holy mother of green baby jesus.


    Grinding magic spells is impossible! What the hell¡­


    I cast a quick glance at Gut. He stares back with a worried look. Something is amiss. No way this makes sense. Just¡­ No.


    Every single game I¡¯ve played earlier, there has always been a way for mages to replenish their mana. There must be some sort of trick he is withholding¡­


    Wait a second!


    His mana stone!


    ¡°Gut! Tell me of your mana stone. How does it work?¡± I eagerly ask him. My instincts screaming at me.


    Gut smiles back at me. I¡¯m correct! I just know it!


    ¡°There is, youngling.¡± He says. There is a hint of pride in his tone of voice. Maybe I¡¯m imagining it? ¡°Mana stones such as this one allows me to replenish my mana reserves by up to six ranks once a day.¡± He holds up his mana stone. The information from earlier said it was of a medium size.


    Jackpot!


    I knew there had to be something! I freaking knew it! This glorious little rock doubles Gut¡¯s effectiveness in battle. What a valuable piece of treasure! But why didn¡¯t he tell me earlier?


    ¡­


    This game. The developers seem to intentionally force the V.I.¡¯s to withhold some information until the players specifically ask for it. I can admit I understand why they do it¡­ but¡­


    For fucks sake! It¡¯s annoying as hell!


    How am I supposed to play this game the best I can if my own advisor is unintentionally withholding information? This just feels wrong. On so many levels. If I could, I would open a support ticket and complain to the admins. This is the most pointless and annoying feature of the game, and it kills my immersion.


    A flair of anger burns within me.


    ¡­


    ¡°FUCK YOU LOGAN!¡± I yell out of the top of my lungs. My sudden outburst startles Gut and the goblins close by.


    I needed to vent some steam, and I start to feel a little better. If you can¡¯t fight the system, join it. If you can¡¯t join it¡­ then rage at it?


    Anyway. Moving along I first need to¡­


    :¡¯{


    My thought is rudely interrupted by the infamous blue prompt.


    Tssk. I start smirking. Serves you right you ass.


    ¡­


    Heh.


    Right. Back to the situation at hand. I don¡¯t actually know if Harvalon will even attack me. For all I know, he is currently focusing on building his base while savoring his experience lead. Even if he decides to attack, there is only about twenty-five percent chance I¡¯m the target. My logical thoughts slowly unties the tight knot in my stomach. There is no need to worry. I¡¯m not that unlucky.


    Time to move back to the most pressing of my issues. I need to know¡­


    A loud shriek fills the air from the east.


    I quickly turn and face the general direction.


    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± I shout confused. A low grumbling sound echoes from my side.


    ¡°Enemies.¡±


    My eyes scan the general direction I think the shriek came from. My mind automatically activates my [Eagle Sight] ability. It¡¯s about then I spot it. A small birdlike... thing hovers just barely above the treeline to the east. I quickly inspect it.


    Harpy ???


    ???


    ¡°What the hell¡­¡±

 Chapter 9 – Death Descending

    Chapter 9 ¨C Death Descending


    SHIT!


    Why me?


    Every single time¡­ Can¡¯t catch a freaking break.


    Despair fills me as the worst case scenario just happened. That damn harpy! I didn¡¯t expect them to arrive this quickly. Shit. I shouldn¡¯t have chosen to start my camp near the center of the map. The travel distances are far shorter than they would be deeper into the forest.


    Damnit! Anger fills me as I grit my teeth. I¡¯m angry at myself. How could I make such an idiotic mistake? I start pacing around while cursing furiously. I fucked up. I should have foreseen this possibility. I should have done more research¡­ I should have---


    ¡°Snap out of it will you?¡± Gut shouts at me.


    *Thump*


    ¡°Oww! FUCK! You fucking asshole!¡± I yell as my vision once again blurs. ¡°I¡¯ll fucking beat your fucking green ass to hell! Come here you little-¡±


    *Thump*


    I topple over backwards as the pain increases. My head is throbbing while my body slumps into the thick grass. With my hands clutching the top of my head, I mutter another select few curses under my breath.


    My visions clears and I look up at the robed little creature hovering his makeshift club menacingly over my head. His eyes pierce mine as he stares me down. I silently stare back, controlling my breathing and calm my mind.


    Fuck. What am I doing?


    I have been on an emotional rollercoaster for a week already, and I can¡¯t seem to stop myself from losing it.


    ¡­


    I let out a long mental sigh as I close my eyes.


    My mind is all chaos. There are far too many emotions swirling around in my head. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m angry. Not really. There is another feeling trumping it by far. Lingering in my chest. I feel sad. Hopeless. Worthless.


    I got a lot of words for it, but none of them offer a sufficient explanation.


    I don¡¯t understand this.Why am I making so many basic mistakes? I have never done this before before. I¡¯m the freaking Solo-Butcher! I am known for making complex tactics that can overcome any obstacle. Why then¡­ Why is this so hard for me? I have made several mistakes already. And a bunch of near-fuckups. Why can¡¯t my mind work normally?


    I close my eyes as tons of possible reasons rush through my mind.


    My failure at properly analyzing all the possible race options... My neglect in not prioritizing information above making quick decisions... Underestimating my opponents...


    It feels as if I have twenty different voices screaming at me inside my head. Every single one of them trying to shout above the others. Each one yelling about a different mistake.


    My mind starts drifting around, thinking about both everything and nothing. It¡¯s oddly calming. A few images flash across my mind. They¡¯re memories, both distant and recent. The images slowly turn into faces.


    I see my teachers, old friends, neighbours, my bullies and a lot more. The faces of every person I see every day of every week stare back at me. Their patronizing gazes looking down on me. Reminding me of my failures. My failure at every single aspect of life. Failing at school. Failing at sports. Failing at making friends. Failing at making ends meet¡­ Failing at gaming¡­


    The tightness in my chest starts sinking into my stomach. Leaving nothing but hollowness. My depression threatens to overwhelm me.


    ...


    I don¡¯t want to fail.


    I don¡¯t want to lose at the one thing I do well in my life.


    Gaming is all I have¡­


    The hollowness in my stomach starts to shrink, slowly being replaced by resolve. It doesn¡¯t disappear completely. No five minute epiphany is going to heal those wounds. The condescending faces in my mind dissipates one after the other. All but five of them. The faces of my bullies are all that¡¯s left. Their faces smirking down at me. I don¡¯t feel sad anymore¡­ No. Quite the opposite in fact.


    They are the reason I ended up here. I won¡¯t forget. I will never forget. I¡¯m going to have my revenge. They won¡¯t beat me. Not here. Not in a game.


    Just you wait Richard¡­


    My eyes open and my face stiffens. I have wasted enough time. Harvalon will be here soon.


    ¡°Thank you Gut. I needed that.¡±


    A single growl is all I¡¯m getting in response. No words are needed.


    Still lying on my back, I start asking Gut questions. I need to figure out what he is capable off. Without delay, Gut explains what he can do.


    Gut tells me of the spells he can use in detail. And when I say detail, I mean REALLY detailed. Listing all his spells, he tells me what each one does individually. Mana cost, cast range, cast time, area of effect, speed of projectiles and lots and lots of other specifics. I just sit quietly and soak it all in.


    My mental state isn¡¯t all there, so most of the details go straight into one ear and out the other. I do however, manage to pick up the essentials.


    Fireball


    Fire Magic. Tier 1.


    A ball of fire causing moderate fire damage.


    Flamethrower


    Fire Magic. Tier 2.


    A cone of fire erupts from the caster, causing massive damage.


    Fire Blast


    Fire Magic. Tier 3.


    Blasts an area in fire, causing moderate area of effect damage.


    Coagulate


    Blood Magic. Tier 1


    Reduces stats of target by half.


    Bloodrush


    Blood Magic. Tier 2.


    Increases speed of nearby friendlies by 20%.


    This is some collection! Gut seems to have five different spells which do various things. There are two types of magic, fire and blood. I vaguely remember from the racial traits that goblins can only learn these two types of magic. Gut is especially proficient at fire magic, which must be why the only third tiered magic he has is a fire spell.


    Neat.


    I can work with this. These spells¡­ got potential.


    I dust off my brain and kickstart the rusted cogs. The resemblance of a plan starts to form in my mind.


    Gut is hovering above me. He still has a firm double grip on his staff. His ever vigilant stare burning a hole in my head. I look up at him and start grinning. His scowl turns uncertain. He knows something is up.


    ¡°So Gut¡­¡± My teeth start showing. ¡°How would you like to save the day?¡±


    Not waiting for Gut to lose his dumbfounded expression, I spring to my feet and start running towards the sparring area. My fighters are all still smacking each other around, cuts and bruises littering their bodies. They¡¯re not looking very healthy, and they¡¯re clearly not affected by the alarm that went off a few minutes ago at all.


    ...


    I should probably do something about that at some point?


    Tssk. Later.


    ¡°All of you! Line up!¡± I yell excitedly, expecting my loyal subjects to stand at a neat attention with their chests puffed out and their eyes brimming with resolve.


    ...


    Too bad this bunch of morons just stand around and look at me as if I¡¯m the idiot.


    I squint my eyes and my brows furrow. Why won¡¯t this stupid game give me just one thing that works as intended? I¡¯m not asking for much here. Just a tiny bit of intelligence. Hell, I would settle for an attention span that surpass a goldfish. But no¡­ I¡¯m stuck with being the lead idiot of a bunch of kindergarteners who only care about eating, pooping and hitting each other with sticks.


    Sigh. I let my face slide into the palm of my hand.


    ¡°...Chief?¡± One of my fighters asks me carefully. Right. I wasn¡¯t supposed to sulk anymore. This ain¡¯t gonna be easy. They are really testing my patience.


    ¡°Nevermind¡± I mumble, straightening my back. I have a plan to put in motion. These sorry saps of life don¡¯t need to be smart to play their part.


    ¡°You!¡± I point at the goblin wielding the rusty cutlass. His green ears twitch at the notion of suddenly being singled out.


    ¡°And you!¡± I point to the goblin wielding the shield and a club. The poor goblin looks terrified for some reason. I motion for them to approach.


    The two approach me at a slow pace. Their arms are slouched at their sides and their ears are drooping. The base aggression they were radiating just moments ago has all but vanished. They act submissive towards me. It feels as if their behaviour is designed to imitate pack-based predators. A bit like wolves. Feral creatures that work together with a simple hierarchy. And guess who¡¯s the alpha? Hell yeah you know who!


    ¡°Give me that.¡± I grab the shield without really waiting for the goblin to react. I feel a little resistance as the goblin releases his grip. I suppose he already grew attached to his new toy. No matter. I don¡¯t have time for this.


    I proceed to hand over the shield to the goblin wielding the rusty cutlass. The goblin¡¯s eyes widen in surprise. This is soon replaced by a satisfied grin as he attaches the shield to his free hand and starts waving it around. A few of the other fighters are giving him envious stares. The goblin who lost the shield looks downright depressed. I almost feel like patting him on the back out of sympathy.


    I might give him a present later. If we survive.


    ¡°Thank you chief!¡± The cutlass goblin says while bowing respectfully. Right. ¡°No need to thank me. I¡¯m not done.¡±


    I start unequipping my chest and leg armor, as well as my boots. I hand them all over to the cutlass goblin. The look on his face is undescribable. His large eyes are pot-lid round and I can see tears starting to form. His mouth hangs open, revealing his entire set of jagged teeth.


    ¡°What are you doing!?¡± Gut shouts behind me. He takes a few steps forward, further increasing his volume. ¡°Have you lost your mind? Take those back! The disgrace...¡± I cut him off by raising my hand.


    ¡°Quiet! It¡¯s part of the plan. I¡¯ll explain after.¡± My command doesn¡¯t entirely silence Gut, but he does reduce his outbreak to a low growling.


    The cutlass goblin wastes no time putting my armor on. The chainmail jingles softly as it slaps against the hardened leather armor. The goblin is half a head smaller than me, but the armor appears to fit like a glove. Soon after finishing, he starts to strike poses in front of the other goblins, showing off his newfound might. He seems to relish at the fact that he is favored by the chieftain by receiving all these magnificent gifts.


    ...


    Aww¡­ the sucker doesn¡¯t realise he is the bait.


    ----------


    The Blair Witch flock is resting at a small hill in the middle of a forest. The female harpies are all loitering around, resting to replenish their stamina. They have to rest for about fifteen minutes after every hour of flight, else they lose strength and will be unable to bear their own weight. This is one of the detrimental effects of having the powerful ability of flight.


    The flock has been flying throughout the night already, unwilling to allow their enemies a moment of respite before their onslaught. They may suffer a penalty due to an exhausted debuff, but it shouldn¡¯t matter too much. Scouts have been sent ahead to to try and locate the enemy¡¯s base. Although the harpies are efficient, they don¡¯t worry about much. They are strong. Real strong. They know almost as a certainty that they will have the numerical advantage. Anything else is beyond ludicrous. Even though they are evenly matched, they would still have the edge. Now it¡¯s only a matter of time.


    Their leader, Harvalon, rests atop the tallest tree, leaning against the trunk. She is bursting with confidence, and why shouldn¡¯t she? Things are going well for her so far. She gained two whole levels after her rush tactic against the orc last night. Her face is twisting into a smile. Her tactic was a good one.


    Harvalon is what one would call a veteran gamer. Her forty years as a gamer has let her experience the best moments of gaming history. Her fondest memories are from the golden age of strategy games in the late 90¡¯s and early 2000¡¯s. Most people don¡¯t remember this era. This was a long time ago, way before the gaming industry buried the strategy genre in favor of arcade shooters, MMORPGs and arena games. The industry focused way too much on expanding its market to include everyone, and the simplicity of the games they made didn¡¯t quite mesh well with the strategy genre which required a certain level of complexity.


    Being a neglected genre, the main body of gamers these days don¡¯t know the beauty of the strategies created by their predecessors. This is what allows her to use the time proven strategy of a Zerg Rush to completely take her opponent unawares.


    Certainly, there are many other complex strategies she could have used, but the Zerg Rush is just so simple and efficient, it would have been a shame not to exploit it to its full potential.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    The smile on her face is not just about how well the tactic is working, but also about her luck in realising the opportunity of using it.


    During the pregame selections, she spent a fair amount of time browsing through the list of playable races. She was internally debating about which race could give her the edge she would need to win. After all, this is her chance to honor the classic strategy games. She won¡¯t fail.


    It wasn¡¯t until the end of the list she noticed the harpy race. Harpies are considered a common but weak fantasy race, often featured in fantasy role playing games. It is also a race that are only known to have one defining feature. Among the sentient species, they have the rare ability of flight!


    Being able to have a race capable of flight didn¡¯t even register in her mind as possible until she saw them. It didn¡¯t take more than a split second from the moment she saw the harpies before she thought of combining it with the Zerg Rush tactic. The main strength of the Zerg Rush is speed. Flying most certainly qualify for this.


    Yeah. She feels pretty darn lucky!


    It¡¯s a pity she spent so much time selecting a race however. It caused her to make a few mistakes later on. She set her character up to be an assassin. This felt smart at first, but she should have realised she shouldn¡¯t rush into danger. This is her minions¡¯ job after all. If she had spent some more time at it, she would have chosen to be a mage. That would at least have made her capable of attacking or supporting from a safe distance.


    Rookie mistake...


    The other mistake she made was not taking into consideration her racial weakness. Harpies don¡¯t really have proper hands, so this makes them terrible at tasks which require craftsmanship. The negative attributes she received were so high, she really just wanted to start crying.


    Foolish mistake yet again.


    Regardless. Her choice of race made an aggressive playstyle a necessity. She does have a plan on how to remedy the situation though. She only needs to ¨C


    *SWOSH*


    The flapping sound of a harpy¡¯s wings descending drags her out of her deep thoughts. It signals the arrival of her trusty advisor, bringing news from her scouts. Her advisor lands on a nearby branch and turns her head towards Harvalon.


    ¡°Mistress. The scouts have found our enemy!¡± She shrieks in a high pitch tone. Harvalon raises her tired eyes and meets her advisor¡¯s stare.


    ¡°Report.¡±


    ¡°We have found a small settlement by the mountain to our immediate west, only half an hour away. The enemy appears to be goblins, about thirty strong. Their fighting capacity is roughly one third of the population. Poor quality equipment. Their leader appears to be a goblin with leather armor. Weapons unknown. The advisor is some sort of spellcaster. Type unknown. Our scout was spotted, so the enemy is aware of our presence.¡± The advisor finishes her report.


    Harvalon nods slowly and lets out a deep breath. Thanks Cerille.¡± She finally mutters. A grin forms on her lips.


    These are splendid news!.


    This is the best case scenario. A first tier race with only light armor. This should be easy, but she has to move fast. She can¡¯t allow him to prepare any further, or god forbid, run off and hide. Hunting him down would waste too much of her time.


    She unfolds her wings and quickly takes flight. Hovering above her troops, she lets out a shrilling cry. Her war cry is echoed by nearly thirty lesser voices. Her chest swells with satisfaction.


    The hunt is on.


    The flock takes wing and soars into the sky in unison. Thirty lightly dressed harpies are flying in a disorderly fashion. A big clump of feathers, talons and sharp teeth is all that is visible from a distance.


    Above them all, Harvalon and Cerissa are floating along, discussing the layout of the land and possible threats the goblins might procure.


    The occasional shriek from a harpy can be heard once in awhile, but most of the half hour trip progresses in silence. A knot ties in Harvalon¡¯s stomach as she mentally prepares herself for the coming battle.


    Even though she holds the clear advantage, her plan isn¡¯t foolproof. There are ways to counter her rushing tactic, but she just can¡¯t see a way for her to lose this early. The enemy seems to be just as poorly equipped as her own fighters, and she knows poor equipment also limits the possibility for strategies. There is just no feasible way at this stage of the game for the enemy to fight her off. The only deciding factor is the numerical advantage. And Harvalon has her enemy beat on that note almost three to one.


    She just can¡¯t lose.


    Still, she gets this gnawing feeling in her gut. What if¡­


    No. She can¡¯t allow herself to be distracted. She just has to push through and follow the plan. Over thinking things can ruin the best laid plans, and decisive actions are just as important as good strategic planning.


    She is brought out of her deep thoughts at the sight of an approaching harpy. This is one of her vanguard units, arriving to report that the enemy is within sight.


    Harvalon would have preferred to do another night blitz attack, but her forward scout has already been spotted. A pity¡­ It goes to show her enemy has some resemblance of a strategic mind. But just how dangerous can he be with the odds stacked against him?


    She halts her approach and waits for her fighters to form a loose circle around her. Since her element of surprise has all but vanished, she needs to do a proper analysis of the situation before she acts. There is no need to do anything unnecessary, is there?


    She beckons for two of her fighters to follow as she flies high above to get a good look at the hostile encampment.


    There isn¡¯t much to look at. A half built shed is being erected next to a small body of water which is hard to spot through the gaps between the large trees in the area. She can spot their pile of resources shortly behind with three goblins spread around it.


    There is no trace of most of the goblins, but she suspect the enemy is hiding all his crafter units out of sight, as to not have any unnecessary losses. Not bad thinking. Her enemy is keeping a cool head and thinks ahead. Not going to help him much though.


    Her eyes move over towards the main cluster of the enemy¡¯s units. About twenty meters beside the pile of resources, she can spot the enemy chieftain. He is surrounded by the rest of his goblin fighters in a loose, almost perfect circle. His advisor mage lingers on the outside of the circle, on the opposite side of where her forces are gathered.


    She takes a moment to analyze the situation.


    There seems to be a lot of thought put into this tactic. Her enemy has a few units covering his strategic objective, which is his pile of resources. A smart move, although it spreads his forces thin. It¡¯s not too bad though, since his main force is close by and able to react quickly depending on the situation. His main forces are spread out in a protective circle around the leader. Not bad thinking at all. This way they are in a position to help their leader, while also spreading out in case of concentrated ranged fire like spells.


    There are some peculiarities to his choice of strategy though. Why has he placed his forces in the open like that? It would be safer to fight an aerial force among dense vegetation where mobility would become an issue. Standing in the open like this is just¡­ dumb. What is he thinking about? Does he need visibility perhaps? Maybe he is hoping for his spellcaster to be able to pick the enemy leader off before she can get to him?


    ¡­


    She doesn¡¯t like this. Not one bit.


    On the side of caution, she throws out an inspect on the enemy commander.


    Goblin ???


    Equipment Quality: Good, Leather


    ???


    Hmm no doubt about it. That must be the leader. A pity she is too far away to do a proper inspect. The information on the mage didn¡¯t reveal anything shocking either. Perhaps the player is really the mage?


    ¡­


    No. Not possible. Her scout did observe the other goblins taking orders from a goblin in leather armor. She doesn¡¯t see anyone else down there who match that description.


    She curses softly.


    There is nothing more to do. She has too little information to make a good decision. She still has an advantage, so she should just stick to her strengths. The enemy certainly has a plan in all this, but little do they know; Harvalon got a trick of her own up her feathery sleeve.


    She takes a deep breath before she releases another high pitched shriek. A call to attack. From the distance, the massive clump of her army rises from the treeline and heads towards the enemy forces.


    Her units picks up the pace and moves as one. The only way she can describe the sight would be to call it a blob of death. The massive group of harpies close the distance to the enemy and soon dives as a unit. Heading straight for the enemy commander.


    Harvalon holds her breath. A trickle of sweat rolls down her forehead.


    Something feels off.


    Her eyes lock onto the goblins below. They don¡¯t look frightened. She can see how their muscles tense, their weapons are being raised and their eyes lock onto the oncoming horde. She can see how the enemy leader raises his shield above his head, preparing to face the enemy charge head on.


    Her flock descends rapidly. It¡¯s almost a free dive. They only have one job to do, and that is to tear the enemy commander to shreds. They only need a few seconds to close the distance. only thirty meters to go¡­ twenty¡­ fifteen¡­ ten¡­


    With only five meters to go, the enemy spellcaster releases a spell. There is hardly enough time for her to register that something even happened before she sees a massive explosion occur at the center of her units. The blazing fire rapidly expands outwards, encircling her harpies. The sea of fire is bright. It¡¯s everywhere! It¡¯s too late for the rest of the harpies to avoid it. They just dove too fast. The battlefield is filled by the panicked screams of her fighters. Her vision obscured by all the smoke.


    ¡°What¡­ what happened!?¡±


    ----------


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± I yell. ¡°It actually worked!¡±


    My eyes water from the bright explosion. The screams of my foes are ringing in my ears, and a smell of burnt flesh drifts towards me.


    Gut timed his attack perfectly! Using his third tier [Fire Blast] at the correct moment when all his enemies were grouped up showed far better results than he dared hope. Everything is on fire damnit!


    The battlefield turned into utter chaos. Harpies are littering the ground, most suffering from severe burns while some just died.


    The few harpies who managed to avoid the fire are hovering above the rest. Paralyzed by the screams of their comrades. My cutlass wielding goblin at the center of the circle got knocked over by the weight of about a dozen harpies ramming into him. He got a few burn marks on his arms and legs, as well as some bruises from the kinetic force of the enemy¡¯s charge. His shield managed to save him from the worst of the impact however.


    ¡°ATTACK!¡± I yell at the top of my lungs.


    The command is an unnecessary one, but I just can¡¯t help myself as I¡¯m filled by a rush of adrenaline.


    My goblin fighters are already on their feet, hacking, stabbing and bashing every single of the wounded harpies littering the ground. I can see how my cutlass wielding goblin pushes a dead harpy off himself and starts hacking away at the exposed throats of any harpy within reach.


    It¡¯s a bloodbath!


    Gut is standing safely in the back, shooting several [Fireball]s at the harpies still airborne. The harpies are still shell shocked by the earlier explosion and they don¡¯t seem to know what to do. Without having the advantage of speed or flight, the harpies are at a clear disadvantage.


    Some try to claw at my goblins, while some try to bite. They are all badly hurt and in a scuffle like this, my weapon wielding goblins fight like giants! This isn¡¯t a battle really. It¡¯s a brawl! And brawling is a goblin¡¯s way of life!


    Trying not to revel too much at the sight of the massacre going on, I decide it¡¯s time for me to enter the fray.


    I lift the basket of grass concealing me amidst the pile of resources and leap out.


    Crossbow in hand, I drop to my knee and start firing as fast as I can. I aim for the harpies still in the air and my heart skips a beat every time my bolts connect with those feathery bastards. I grin as I watch them fall from the sky, only to be hacked to death by a goblin waiting below.


    I don¡¯t know how many have fallen, but it¡¯s a lot. The bloodlust overwhelms me as I keep releasing bolt after bolt. I think I shot half a dozen times before something slams into my back.


    The world turns upside down as I tumble to the ground. A sharp pain stings my right shoulder. I start flailing my arms around wildly, trying to defend myself from whatever the hell that was. A weight presses me down. It hurts.


    I slowly regain my bearings and notice a dirty green creature lodged on top of me.


    A goblin?


    What the fuck?


    ¡°Get the fuck off me!¡± I start punching the little bastard. ¡°Oww! Chief, please don¡¯t!¡± He cries in agony.


    A wild flapping sounds from above me. I tilt my head and look up at a couple of metal spikes, racing for my face. I release a small yelp and instinctively pull the goblin laying on top of me up to cover my face. A nasty squishy sound fills my ears as the metal spikes pierce the goblin. The poor goblin whimpers before his body goes limp.


    I lie on the ground, helpless as the harpy with steel spike talons do her utmost to pierce through the goblin. My two other goblin bodyguards spring to action and try to stab her with their spears. This buys me a moment of respite as the deadly harpy turns to fend them off.


    Gut¡¯s screams can be heard from the distance and I turn my head. From the corner of my eye I can see him sprint towards me, a blue light shining brightly from his hand as he uses his mana stone. I push the dead goblin off me and start crawling back over to the pile of resources. I look around for my crossbow but it¡¯s nowhere to be seen.


    The sound of metal hitting metal is all I register from the battle between my goblin bodyguards and the metal spiked harpy. I feel helpless. My arms are paralyzed and my legs are shaking. A small trickle of blood runs down my shoulder from where the harpy¡¯s surprise attack hit me. The gash is deep. The game¡¯s pain filter is all that keeps me from crying my eyes out.


    My peaceful moment soon ends as the metal spiked harpy manages to get a good hit on one of the spear wielding goblins. He falls over screaming, a large gash across his chest. The other goblin charges in but is knocked aside by the harpy¡¯s wing. The harpy turns to face me. Spit dripping from her razor sharp teeth. Murder in her eyes.


    Fear strikes my very soul as I try to push myself further into safety. My hands fumble at my waist and I manage to get a hold of my bronze dagger. I start swinging it wildly in front of me as the harpy approaches.


    ¡°STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU ASSHOLE!¡± I scream from the top of my lungs.


    I don¡¯t want to die here.


    No way I¡¯m fucking dying here.


    My grip on the dagger tightens and I stop squirming between the two baskets of grass I¡¯m hiding amongst. I extend my arm and point it towards the harpy.


    ¡°You want a piece of this fuckface!?¡± I yell. Her eyes are wild with anger. My taunt is working.


    The harpy lunges. I clench my teeth and steady my arm.


    The harpy¡¯s talons and my dagger are inches apart before a bright flame fills my vision. The harpy screams in horror as the feathers on her back are lit ablaze. The impact throws her off balance, and the talons miss my face. I swing my dagger in an arc, trying to graze her. My heart skips a beat as I feel the dagger finding purchase. I cut deep into her left wing.


    Screaming, the harpy starts rolling out of reach. I try to get to my feet before a green and brown blur speeds past me.


    The harpy¡¯s screams stop abruptly as a rusty iron cutlass pierces her throat. I can see my battered goblin champion sitting on top of the harpy, pressing the tip of his cutlass deeper into the harpy¡¯s throat with both hands. The last embers of her life is slowly ebbing away.


    ¡°CERILLE! NOOOO!¡± A shriek fills the air from high above us. I lift my head and lock onto another harpy with steel enhanced talons.


    The harpy looks furious. Her eyes wild with rage and a thick stream of saliva pours down her chin. She stares daggers at me, and I can see how she struggles to keep herself from diving in after me, ripping my throat out.


    I don¡¯t dare taking my eyes off her. The memory of the last assassination attempt still fresh in my mind. A familiar thumping sound appears behind me.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± My advisor asks me, worry in his voice.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± I mutter. My breath is heavy. My fists clench and my muscles tense, causing the blood from my shoulder to drain faster. ¡°Can you do anything about that bitch?¡± I point towards the harpy with a jerk of my head.


    Gut eyes the harpy with contempt. His brows furrow and his eyes slit as he seems to be making up his mind.


    Without responding, he raises his hand towards the harpy, singling her out. I watch as a thin red mist gathers around his hand.


    His gaze intensifies while the mist thickens. The whole sequence doesn¡¯t take more than a second and a half, but it feels longer. i am mesmerized by the sight. Gut opens his mouth and utters a single word.


    [Coagulate].


    The thick red mist instantaneously shoots up towards the harpy. Her eyes widen in shock at the sudden incoming projectile. Her wings flap harder, but it¡¯s already far too late for her to dodge.


    The red mist quickly envelops her and sticks to her body. Some of the mist makes it into her mouth as panic strikes her. She starts flapping her wings harder but to no avail. She loses strength too fast.


    She tries to fight it, but she is slowly losing altitude. Her previous anger soon turns into fear as she sense the ground approaching rapidly.


    ¡°NO! STOP!... *hnng*... RELEASE ME!¡± Her voice is strained by the effects of the blood magic.


    There is movement all around me.


    I manage to pull my eyes away from the slowly descending harpy to look at the fighters of my tribe gathering around me. There is no more sound of battle behind me, and a good number of my tribesmen are still standing, weapon in hand.


    Looking over their small green bodies, I notice they didn¡¯t come unscathed through the battle. Most of them have various cuts and bruises all over. One of my goblin bodyguards still has a nasty gash across his torso, but he is still standing. Albeit a little unsteadily.


    The worst of the lot is the cutlass wielding goblin. His armor¡­ my armor¡­ is in tatters. The chainmail is all but ripped apart, and bits of leather are scraped off. It¡¯s soaked in blood and littered with scorch marks. The goblin underneath it fares no better. His arms and legs got several first and second degree burns. His face is bloodied and swollen, his nose appears to be broken. He is panting heavily, indicating he must have broken a few ribs.


    I wonder how he is still standing?


    Damn. What a beast!


    Counting my goblins, it seems like the battle went better than I dared hope. Ten fighters are left standing. Damn¡­ How did that happen?


    The goblins all raise their arms and shout taunts at the harpy still struggling above us. She only has a few meters left until she touches ground.


    My goblins all move out, encircling the spot where she lands.


    The moment she is within reach, my goblins lunge. Her screams fade as the bloodthirsty jeers and the sound of metal piercing flesh shuts her out.


    I can¡¯t see her body as a horde of green limbs block my view. A few feathers and drops of blood flies in the air as weapons move with deadly efficiency.


    I can see an iron cutlass being raised high before it chops down.


    Her screams are no more.

 Chapter 10 – Virtual Morality

    Chapter 10 ¨C Virtual Morality


    Everything is silent.


    The only sound I hear is my heart slamming against my chest. The smell of charred flesh tears in my nostrils and I feel a building headache.


    The adrenaline rush is slowly leaving my body and the old familiar sensation of pain resumes to ache in my shoulder.


    My breath is still far too heavy.


    ...


    Fuuuck. How did I survive that?


    My mind is scrambled, and the only thing that lets me keep my sanity is the arrival of the notorious blue windows.


    Your tribe has slain 27 [Harpy Fighter]s, 1 [Advisor]. You have leveled up!


    You are now level 1.


    You have 5 unassigned attribute points.


    ----------


    Your tribe has slain an enemy commander [Harvalon]. You have leveled up!


    You are now level 3.


    You have 15 unassigned attribute points.


    ----------


    Congratulations!


    You have gained 2 skill levels in Crossbow Specialization!


    ----------


    Congratulations!


    You have gained 2 skill levels in Concealment!


    ----------


    Congratulations!


    You have gained 1 skill level in Dagger Specialization!


    Uh¡­ What¡­


    I blink a few times, my mind unable to follow the rapid messages filling my vision. It seems that I just leveled up bigtime. But¡­ I¡¯m just not ready to deal with this right now.


    I dismiss the prompts and slump down on the ground. I close my eyes and wait for the last of my adrenaline to fade.


    The battle felt like an eternity, but it was actually short. Insanely short. And intense!


    In truth, it wasn¡¯t much of a battle. It was a short lived skirmish that turned into a deadly ambush. It only lasted a few minutes, but almost everyone died. My goblins hacked apart a bunch of injured and unarmored harpies. It was a brawl in its truest sense, and there were little trace of anything that could be described as honorable fighting.


    The image of my goblins thrusting their daggers into the exposed necks of the injured harpies is¡­ unsettling, to say the least.


    But it¡¯s a game though. That should make it ok?


    But it¡¯s so realistic¡­


    So much blood.


    A cold shiver crawls down my spine. I wish I could throw up, but I don¡¯t think the game developers added that feature. I suppose it wouldn¡¯t look good on camera¡­ Or maybe they did. I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know anything.


    My eyes wander aimlessly across the battlefield. There are so many dead things. Dead harpies mostly. Their feathery corpses are everywhere. A small sea of blood and feathers colors the ground crimson. There are a couple of other creatures amongst the dead birds though. Two of my goblins perished in the battle at the field, and the third one¡­


    Shit.


    My eyes widen as I remember how my goblin bodyguard died.


    I sacrificed him¡­


    My mind fills with static and blood drains from my face. The tight knot in my stomach twists and grinds against my skin. I struggle to breathe as panic overtakes me. My body starts to shake violently. I topple over, assuming a fetal position.


    ¡­


    I sacrificed him¡­ I let him die to save myself¡­ How could I¡­


    ¡­


    That wasn¡¯t a game. That was real. It sickens me. How could the developers add that shit in a game?


    The dying sounds of my bodyguard play over and over in my mind. I let him die...


    I close my eyes and let my mind shut down. I don¡¯t know for how long I lie there, but I¡¯m eventually capable of forming coherent thoughts.


    ¡°This game is too real.¡± I mutter to myself. I mentally open the blue window I had never thought I would consider using.


    Emergency Logout.


    Do you wish to log out of Fantasy Royale?


    Warning! Logging out will lead to instant disqualification from the game.


    My mental finger hovers above the accept button for a short while. I hesitate. Is this really what I want?


    ¡­


    I sigh. I must. This game is too much. It¡¯s bringing forth things-


    *Thump*


    ¡°Oww¡­¡±


    *THUMP*


    ¡°FUCK!¡± I start punching wildly in the air. I look up and see the familiar shape of Gut hovering above me. My cutlass wielding goblin stands beside him, his armor¡­ my armor, in tatters. They both look worried.


    ¡°WHAT!?¡± I yell at them.


    Gut just looks at me. He seems to consider his answer carefully.


    ¡°You looked as if you were about to do something really stupid.¡± He mumbles quietly.


    ¡°And what if I were? That¡¯s my choice and mine alone.¡± I snap back. I¡¯m not even sure why I¡¯m suddenly so angry.


    ¡°Stop acting like a fucking elf!¡± He shouts at me. All trace of the previous worry all but gone. ¡°You¡¯re a goblin chieftain! A goblin! Being a fool is not in our nature.¡±


    ¡°To hell with you and your fucking goblins! You are not real!¡± I scream at him. How dares he? He¡¯s a fucking V.I. What gives him the right to lecture me?


    Gut stares at me. His eyes shooting venom.


    ¡°Real? REAL!? What nonsense is this? Can you not see us? Can we not communicate with you? Are we not capable of individual thought?¡±


    His response baffles me. ¡°Of course you¡¯re not real! You''re just a string of ones and zeroes. Your actions are nothing but calculated scripted events.¡±


    His face stiffens. ¡°What arrogance. Or is it just ignorance? Isn¡¯t that how any sentient being behaves? Acting based on a precalculated analysis of any given situation, and responding with a scripted reaction formed after a lifetime of environmental stimuli?¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°What the... ¡° I¡¯m stunned. Why am I suddenly stuck in a weird philosophical debate with a V.I? What the actual hell...


    ¡°You¡¯re just not, okay? You were made by a human, and you are saying and doing exactly what that human wants you to say. You¡¯re nothing but an elaborate puppet.¡± My gloves are off. Fuck this guy.


    ¡°What difference does my creation mean? We have all been created. Being the product of industry makes me no less real than a product of evolution. Why would sentience limit itself to only function in a vessel made of flesh and blood, and not one of metal?¡±


    ¡°Because¡­¡± I shift uncomfortably on the ground. ¡°You just don¡¯t okay? You can¡¯t feel!¡± I yell.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°Feel?¡± Gut looks confused. ¡°What makes you think that?¡±


    ¡°Him!¡± I point over the corpse of my dead goblin bodyguard. ¡°Do you see him? Did you see what I did to him?¡± I scream. My throat is getting hoarse. ¡°I killed him okay? I killed him to save myself. And this was right after he saved my life. Who does that kind of shit? It¡¯s not okay! How can you not understand how that makes me feel? Only a fucking emotionless tin can can shove that aside. You only have your single purpose. You¡¯re a fucking emotionless tool.¡± My voice starts ebbing away. It still stings my heart to relive my previous actions.


    I lay on the ground just staring up at Gut, fire in my eyes. The old mage is quiet for once. Just looking back at me. I can see a small spark in his eyes as he is processing what I¡¯m trying to say.


    ¡°I see¡­¡± He finally says. ¡°You feel guilty.¡±


    I do my utmost not to snap back at him. I want to keep screaming at him. Punch him. Tear his flesh off. No fucking shit Sherlock. I do feel guilty. I killed someone who considered me their leader. Someone who risked his life protecting me. Out of cowardice. So what if the goblin isn¡¯t real? It sure as fucking hell felt real as I saw the harpy¡¯s sharp metal spikes close in on my face.


    ¡­


    Fuck.


    Is that really the kind of person I am?


    ¡°I can understand how you feel¡­¡± Gut starts.


    ¡°No you don¡¯t.¡± I interrupt him. ¡°But thanks for trying.¡±


    ¡°No, I do. I¡¯m not going to tell you to forget about it. I believe you just experienced one of those handful of moments you get during your life.¡± He sits down next to me and rests his hand on my shoulder.


    ¡°But I will say this. Don¡¯t let it bring you down. Remember the feeling and let it guide you. Don¡¯t let it bring you down.¡± He points towards the dead goblin. ¡°He died protecting you. It¡¯s probably a terrible comfort for now, but he served his purpose. He was prepared to die to save you. If you died, he would have died as well. As would every single one of us. There is no reason to feel bad about him dying.¡±


    I listen intently as he tries to cheer me up. It¡¯s a pretty cheesy and cliche line to throw at me, but I appreciate it nonetheless.


    I don¡¯t agree with him. Not one second. But it still feels better. What I did was equal to the pinnacle of being a dick, but what can I do? It happened. It was an instinctive reaction. Can I be blamed for that? I have no control over my instinct for self preservation.


    ¡­


    If the goblin had been real, and this had been in a court of law, I would probably have been screwed. And that¡¯s not even counting the morally dark area of my actions.


    Shit. How am I supposed to deal with that? Just move along and pretend it didn¡¯t happen?


    Fuck no.


    This shit¡¯s probably gonna haunt me till the day I die.


    So what can I do?


    Make sure it doesn¡¯t happen again? ¡­ Maybe¡­ Is it really that simple though? It¡¯s very likely I will face a similar situation in this game. What will I do if that happens? Will I sacrifice another goblin to save myself then? Will I remember this situation and freeze? Would I sacrifice myself to save another goblin?


    I don¡¯t know. Fuck. I hate not knowing.


    I rack my brain over this matter. I have a lot of hypotheticals and what-if¡¯s, but not a single piece of fact to support my train of thoughts.


    ¡­


    So why don¡¯t I just quit? It would be easy¡­


    For the briefest moment, I can see a memory flash of Richard¡¯s condescending smirk appear in my mind. My blood starts boiling.


    Richard.


    I can¡¯t quit now. I won¡¯t. I must keep going.


    But is it worth it? Can I really keep going with these realisations about myself just like that? No. It¡¯s not worth it..


    But fuck it if I ain¡¯t gonna to do it anyway.


    I just have to make sure this doesn¡¯t happen again. Somehow...


    ¡°Make everyone go heal their wounds¡­ then start gathering our spoils of war. I need a moment.¡± I tell no one in particular. I receive a quick acknowledgement from Gut before I hear him scurry off. It might just be me, but I think Gut¡¯s step has an extra spring to it.


    I just keep lying on my back for a while. After a few minutes, my quiet bliss is interrupted by the return of my builders and resource gatherers. I hid them in the forest to the west during the battle, and I¡¯m glad to see they are already stomping back to us and starting to work. Just as if there hadn¡¯t just been a short bloody skirmish going on.


    Simpletons¡­


    I wish it was that easy to forget about shit for me as well.


    ----------


    I lie on my back for what feels like hours. It could be minutes, I really don¡¯t know. It¡¯s impossible for me to fall asleep, but I just lie there. Staring up at the sky and trying to empty my mind. I definitely didn¡¯t fall asleep though. The constant hammering of my builders close by denies me the opportunity.


    I wonder if they are close to finishing?


    I sit up in a comfortable position and straighten my back. The game¡¯s coding prevents me from feeling sore, but I still feel that good old need to stretch. After cracking a few joints, I turn my head and have a look around.


    My builders have made good progress on my granary. The roof is close to being finished as the builders are placing the last pieces of grass in the correct spots. The walls are still being hammered in and soon covers most of the structure. A few meters off, a couple of the builders is finalizing what seems to be a crude door. I don¡¯t think it will be more than a couple of hours for them to finish.


    Shit. For how long did I zone out?


    I spring to my feet and start looking for Gut. If anyone around here can form enough coherent sentences to tell me what''s going on, it has to be Gut. I walk over to a small hill near the pool of water. It doesn¡¯t take long for me to find him sitting by the water, sipping from his ever-full wineskin.


    ¡°Gut¡­¡± I mutter.


    The old mage slowly turns his head and gives me a short respectful nod. He seems to be playing with a white object the size of an orange. I don¡¯t bother looking too close.


    I sit down next to him and gesture for him to pass the wine. After taking a few sips, I feel ready to start functioning like a human being again.


    Squinting, I raise my hand and gently squeeze the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger.


    ¡°Did we gain anything from that fight?¡±


    Gut takes a long swig from the wineskin.


    ¡°We did indeed young one¡­ this one here is the big prize.¡± He abruptly tosses the white ball over to me. I fumble a little, but manage to grab it without dropping it. It feels smooth to the touch. I turn it over in my hands and have a better look at it.


    Woah.


    It¡¯s a freaking skull!


    My grip on the skull tightens and my eyes shoot open. This is so weird. I have never held a skull before. Not a real one at least. It didn¡¯t quite feel like this in Yggdrasil Online. I can¡¯t explain it. Who did this come from? Harvalon?


    Reading my odd expression, Gut speaks up.


    ¡°That right there is a [Special Skull]. The skull of an enemy leader. It holds great value.¡±


    ¡°What sort of value?¡± I immediately inquire. Gut raises a non existing eyebrow. ¡°A grand ritual young one. But you need an altar first.¡±


    Again with the altar? That¡¯s the second time Gut has hinted at how great an altar is. I need one of those¡­


    I sit quietly for a moment, slowly rotating the skull in my hands. Observing it closely. The appearance of a blue prompt scares the hell out of me and I start a crazy coughing fit.


    [Special Skull]


    Remnant of the player [Harvalon]


    The skull of a fallen player has several valuable uses. It can be used to perform rituals at a religious altar, or be used as a powerful crafting reagent in [Alchemy]. The [Special Skull] can also be used to [Subjugate] the player within three hours of his or her death.


    ¡°Wh¡­ Who¡­.WHAAAAAT!?¡± I yell. I can subjugate her!?


    Holy fudge nuggets! YES DAMN IT!


    My mind jumbles into utter chaos. The new information that randomly fell onto my lap is quite literally my recipe to win! I can subjugate Harvalon! A flying race! I was so jealous when I saw Harvalon¡¯s ability to fly earlier, and now I can make that power mine? Hell yeah! Air Force Goblin at your service. Yes please!


    Ecstatic, I quickly try to recall what I needed to subjugate someone. Hmm what was it? Ten points into [Diplomat]? That¡¯s a lot¡­ Too much perhaps. I did gain three levels after this fight which gave me fifteen unassigned points. Those points definitely have some potentially good uses. But I¡¯d be damned if any one of them can trump actual flying units.


    Right. Shit. I¡¯m going to keep trusting my gut on this one. It has been true to me so far. Sort of¡­


    I perform my good old mental maneuvers and open up my character page. From here, I focus on my [Diplomat] stat point and increase it to the required ten points. I do briefly consider my other options, but my mind is set. While I¡¯m here though, I decide to chuck the last five points into the [Trainer] stat. Because why not?


    With glee on my face, I once more focus on the skull in my hands. The same information box appears in my mind and I flex my mental muscles and order it to activate [Subjugate]. A small bell like sound chimes in my mind before another blue translucent window appears in front of me.


    Subjugate player Harvalon


    Time remaining: 14 Minutes, 36 Seconds.


    Warning: Unable to subjugate player as you lacked the required amount of stat point for [Diplomat] at the time of the player¡¯s death.


    Subjugation not possible.


    ¡­


    I bury my face in my hands.


    I take a couple of deep breaths while staying completely quiet.


    ¡­


    ¡°I should have expected this¡­¡± I say out loud. ¡°There is just no way for me to catch a fucking break is there?¡± I continue to bury my face. Gut doesn¡¯t say anything, but I can feel his gaze lingering on me. I don¡¯t want to look up. I¡¯m not sure if I can handle looking at his face as it¡¯s probably filled with pity.


    A distant voice in the back of my mind is all that keeps me from grabbing the skull and throwing it as far as I can into the pool of water. This joke isn¡¯t even funny anymore.


    I slowly pull my hands away and focus my eyes on the ground in front of me. The skull is staring back at me. Mocking me. At least it feels like it.


    ¡°Every fucking time...¡± I whisper. I take the skull and cram it into my utility belt. I use a little more force than necessary, but it feels good. I hate the bloody thing, but for some reason I¡¯m not comfortable putting something like this in the giant resource pile. And no matter how much I want to use it as a football, I can¡¯t risk wasting something this valuable. Life is cruel that way...


    The skull disappears from my hands and fills one of the four spots in the belt. This is a common feature in these sort of games. Instant size adjustment for easier transportation. It¡¯s pretty neat. Too bad it ruins the feeling of forcefully handling it.


    ¡°Did we gain anything else?¡± I grunt at Gut.


    The old goblin takes another long swig from his wine skin. Damn. That little bugger can drink.


    ¡°Yes, young one. Twenty-eight [Skull]s, eight [Hardened Leather Scrap]s and four [Steel Scrap]s.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­¡±


    I don¡¯t really know what to think of that.


    Is that good? Did I get a good haul? I don¡¯t know¡­ Everything apart from the [Skull]s is marked as scrap. It seems to be high level junk though. I¡¯m sure they have a use. Why else would my minions gather them?


    ¡°Thanks¡± I mutter to Gut as I turn away and start walking. My mind too heavy to keep the conversation going. I¡¯m exhausted and I¡¯m sick of being awake.


    I¡¯m just so goddamn tired of thinking. There¡¯s always something to think about and deal with. It¡¯s downright annoying is what it is. It doesn¡¯t help that I seem to have reached the emotional stage of a fourteen year old girl who is going through puberty.


    Freaking emotions...


    I¡¯m not a fan of having emotions. They always seem to be in the way. To be honest¡­ I have sometimes envied sociopaths and their lack of empathy. I wish I could have the stone cold rationality to push through any obstacle in life. Feelings always mess things up. For everyone.


    I take a deep breath.


    ¡­


    It¡¯s not that easy though. It never is. My emotions are here to stay. It¡¯s probably for the best too¡­ But damn. It would be nice to have an off switch every now and then.


    I walk over towards the makeshift camp area by the water. I spot my favourite tuft of grass and collapse my body onto it. I pass out before my head even hits the ground.

 Chapter 11 – Promotion

    Chapter 11 ¨C Promotion


    Logan removes his portable FIVR Helmet.


    A small trickle of sweat makes its way down his forehead.


    ¡°Shit. That was close¡­¡± He mutters.


    A door at the end of the room slams shut and a familiar female voice speaks up. ¡°Logan! There you are. I¡¯ve been looking all over for you. What on God¡¯s green earth are you doing in the server room?¡± She asks him. ¡°And you¡¯d better not be hiding away from your responsibilities again. There is a whole stack of documents you have to get through today.¡± She comes to a halt right next to him. Her eyes look him over once before they linger on the helmet in his hands.


    ¡°Why do you have¡­¡± She mutters lowly.


    ¡°Nothing! I was just¡­ checking my emails.¡± He quickly deflects while shoving the helmet to the side and out of view. Kelly narrows her eyes. She doesn¡¯t buy it. She has known Logan for far too long to not notice he just did something he shouldn¡¯t.


    ¡°What. Did. You. Do?¡± She asks him through gritted teeth. Her icy stare causes a chill to crawl down his spine.


    Logan hesitates for a moment, carefully contemplating his response. There aren¡¯t many things in the world that Logan finds terrifying, but a mad Kelly is among the top choices on a very short list.


    He shifts uncomfortably in his chair and does not dare make eye contact.


    ¡°Nothing really. I just prevented a little existential crisis. No biggie.¡± He mumbles. Catching a sideway glance at Kelly in the process. Her nostrils are flaring and a thick vein is throbbing at the side of her forehead.


    ¡°What?¡± She she says through gritted teeth.


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°WHAT!?¡± She yells, throwing her arms out wide.


    Logan studies his feet as he lets out a long sigh.


    ¡°I sort of¡­ used my admin privileges to momentarily take control over a V.I. unit to prevent a psychological meltdown in one of the contestants.¡±


    ¡°You did WHAT!? Are you insane!? You can¡¯t do that! What the hell is wrong with you!?¡± She screams at him.


    ¡°Hey! I had to! It was a company emergency!¡± He jumps to his feet.


    ¡°Emergency? What Emergency? The only emergency in this company is you and your idiotic adolescent actions! What were you thinking interfering in the game like that? Do you know what would happen if anyone found out?¡± Her face reddens.


    ¡°The Avenger Storyline! We nearly lost it. I had to save it. It¡¯s too important. We can¡¯t afford to lose it!¡± His volume increases.


    ¡°The Ave¡­ What does that have to do with anything? What on earth could have happened for you to attempt to shove your own head up your arse!?¡± She shouts.


    ¡°He nearly quit damn it!¡± Logan throws his arms out wide.


    ¡°...¡± She stares at him dumbfounded.


    ¡°So what?¡± She asks.


    ¡°So what? SO WHAT!?¡± His arms drop and his facial muscles loosen. ¡°We would lose viewers¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh bullshit.¡± She snaps at him. ¡°You couldn¡¯t care less about losing viewers. What are you really up to? The kid is too unstable. If he keeps at it like this, we will have a PR nightmare on our hands.¡±


    Logan makes a shooing gesture.


    ¡°Tssk, that¡¯s nothing we can¡¯t handle. It will be worse if we forcibly eject the most popular player from the game. We wouldn¡¯t just get bad press, but we would lose millions in revenue. The investors would have a fit.¡±


    Kelly glares at him. ¡°It will be worse if the kid really has a meltdown inside the game. We could be forcibly shut down by the government if this gets out of hand.¡±


    ¡°It won¡¯t get out of hand. I have the situation monitored. As I said, he only needs a little time. The A.I has been monitoring his mental state over the last few days. He is gradually improving. The A.I estimates he will function as normal in about nine days.¡± He scratches his beard.


    Kelly still frowns.


    ¡°Seriously, Logan. Why bother? Why are you so focused on this damn kid? What makes him so special?¡±


    Logan sits back down and deflects his eyes. He lets them linger on the FIVR helmet lying upside down on the floor next to him. He takes a moment to think it over.


    ¡°There¡¯s just something about that kid.¡± He mutters. Hardly audible to Kelly.


    ¡°What?¡± She presses on.


    Logan exhales deeply.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure¡­ But it has to be something great. I can feel it.¡±


    Kelly rolls her eyes.


    ----------


    ¡°Hrmmmfnng¡± I groan.


    Blergh. How come when I¡¯m completely digitized, I still have to go through the excruciating process of waking up?


    ¡­


    Right. That whole catching a break thing.


    I groggily get up and find myself on my favourite tuft of grass. The sun is starting to peak between the treetops and most my goblins are still fast asleep. Their loud snores rumbling all around me.


    ¡­


    Annoying creatures.


    I blink tiredly a couple of times and soon notice a blinking icon in the bottom right corner of my vision. Focusing on it reveals the [Magnificent Blue Window of Terrible News].


    Hungry


    You are hungry due to lack of eating. Your stats are reduced by 30 percent per day you haven¡¯t eaten. Death will occur after three concurrent days of not eating.


    Current debuff: -30% to all stats


    Uh. Okay. I suppose that¡¯s the game''s way to tell me it¡¯s time for breakfast.


    I get up on my feet and start my trek towards the pile of resources. I take a few steps before my foot slams into a soft black rock, causing me to stagger forwards.


    ¡°Elves and damnation! Who dares!?¡± A drowsy voice shouts from beneath the weird black rock. A pair of glowing red eyes appear at the edge of the rock alongside a big warty green nose which points in my direction.


    His eyes lock onto me and a angry scowl overtakes his face.


    ¡°You insolent little¡­¡±


    In my exhausted state of mind, I didn¡¯t really register what¡¯s happening until a long brown staff rapidly approaches my head.


    *Thump* *Smack* *Thump*


    ¡°OWW, FUCK! Stop that you little freak! It fucking hurts.¡± I yell while grasping the top of my head. A trickle of blood runs down my nose as I wait for my stun effect to end.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    ¡°Do you have to be so fucking violent all the time? It was an accident! Fucking sociopath.¡± I shout at him. I¡¯m getting real tired of having my head bashed in several times per day. By my own so-called minion no less. What¡¯s the fucking point of playing a god damned strategy game when my own minions are the ones trying to do me in? God. Fuck.


    All I receive in return is a low growl. Or maybe it was a sneer. Hard to tell with this little bastard sometimes.


    ¡°Well a good fucking morning to you too.¡± I say in the most sarcastic manner possible. I don¡¯t bother waiting for the continued growling to end and quickly get back on my feet before I stomp my way over to the pile of resources. I can hear Gut getting to his feet and following me. Mumbling a few inaudible curses under his hood.


    As I reach the pile of resources, I start moving things around, looking for the baskets filled with meat. It takes a few minutes for me to realise there isn¡¯t any. It¡¯s all gone.


    ¡°What the hell happened to all the bloody food?¡± I shout, twisting my head to stare at Gut.


    ¡°In the larder.¡± Gut says, staring at me like I¡¯m some sort of idiot.


    ¡°In the what now?¡± I raise my eyebrow.


    ¡°Grnnf.¡± He raises his right thumb and points behind him. I follow his thumb with my eyes and soon locate a shabby looking hut with a roof made out of thatched grass, built atop a few short wooden poles sticking vertically out of the ground.


    ¡°The fuck is that?¡± I ask while knowing the answer. ¡°So it¡¯s done already.¡± I answer before giving Gut the chance to further condescend me.


    I quickly walk over to my building and inspect it.


    Granary


    Basic storage hut for food. Prevents food degradation by 50%.


    Current stock of food: 82 (54 Meat, 28 Forage, 0 Fish, 0 Produce)


    Estimated Food Supply for Tribe: 2 Days


    Oh? Well I¡¯ll be damned. Finally some decent information to be gained. I secretly cross my fingers behind my back. It¡¯s a bit superstitious of me I know, but I just don¡¯t think I could handle getting a surprise slap in the face by the game system at the moment.


    I waste no time opening the Granary and grabbing myself a nice juicy piece of meat. I do manage to keep my head cool for long enough to inspect the thing before I shove it down my throat.


    Cooked Meat


    Consumable Food. Meat type. Increases morale by 5 for 24 hours when eaten (effect does not stack with same food type).


    Degradation: 4 Days (+50% if stored in Granary)


    All Right. That answers that question. It would appear I didn¡¯t really need to build the Granary first after all. Tssk. Doesn¡¯t matter. It was a logical and necessary choice.


    As I keep munching on my breakfast, the rest of my little tribe starts to stir. They appear to all wake up at roughly the same time. Their green little faces all look tired, but they don¡¯t really loiter around. They all just spring to their feet, stretch and yawn a little before they proceed to head over to their assigned jobs. They may be insufferably stupid and inattentive, but at least they have a pretty good work ethic.


    Oh, which reminds me!


    I can summon three more delightful little spawns of solidified stupidity! Good morning to me too!


    I have already contemplated quite a bit to decide what sort of goblins I should summon this time around. I throw all hesitation aside and summon myself a [Gatherer] goblin to collect grass. A bright shining light hides the arrival of my new goblin. He looks around with vacant eyes before a jolt of pain sends him flying. The flying part was due to me giving him a good old kick while snapping a few commands for him to go gather grass and place it at the pile.


    Scared out of his wits, he bows his head slightly and starts running into the woods. I know I¡¯m supposed to feel bad about that, but I¡¯m really not in the mood. I¡¯ll let him have a sip of Gut¡¯s wineskin later when I start feeling bad about it.


    As for the last two goblins, I hesitate a little bit. I really want to get myself a blacksmith and a leatherworker, but they would be next to useless without their crafting stations. Alas, while I wait for that day to come, I should make preparations. The brief flash of light comes and goes, and I soon stand face to face with a couple of goblin [Miner]s. Their makeshift stone pickaxes resting comfortably over their shoulders.


    ¡°Right. You two¡­ What do you know about metals?¡± I ask them.


    The goblins both stare at me with round eyes. They look at me as if I just declared I¡¯m the god of goblins or something. It¡¯s not really a complicated question¡­ Is it?


    ¡°We find shiny brown rocks. We smash it. Bring you rocks. Yes?¡± One of the goblins pipe up. He¡¯s the shorter of the two goblins, and he has a small potbelly which sticks out to such an extent it¡¯s really putting a strain on his loincloth. I silently renew my praise of how the game keeps such details on a decent level.


    ¡°Brown rocks?¡± I raise my right eyebrow.


    ¡°Grr¡­ I think he means copper, young one.¡± Gut cuts into the conversation.


    ¡°Copper? Really? I don¡¯t need any copper. What the hell am I supposed to do with copper? I need iron. Can¡¯t you get any of that?¡± I ask the pot bellied goblin. All I receive in return is the same confused looking face from earlier.


    Damn simpleton¡­


    ¡°Oh for fucks sake¡­ Just go bring me those damn brown rocks.¡± I snap at the two goblins. They jump to and rapidly scurry off, dragging their pickaxes behind them.


    I turn around and face Gut.


    ¡°Let me guess. There is some restriction or some other bullshit designed to make things harder for me?¡± I sigh.


    ¡°Grr... Yes, young one. The minions will have to gain proficiency in mining lesser metals before they can move onto stronger ones. This is the same for most resources you gather. The order of the metal grades ranked from lowest to highest is-¡±


    ¡°Yeah I figured. Thanks.¡± I interrupt him. Of course there is some restriction. I probably pissed Gut off again by cutting him off in the middle of his lecture, but I can¡¯t really be arsed at the moment. He will probably tell me that stuff later anyway. Probably.


    Ignoring the hostile glare from Gut, I walk over to a small congregation of workers gathering near the makeshift eating area. As I get closer, I recognise it¡¯s my builders.


    Damn. They finished the Granary, didn¡¯t they? I have to assign them a new project.


    ¡­


    What was it that I wanted them to build next?


    I open up my buildings tab and quickly browse through the long list. I don¡¯t recognise any new building options yet, but I expected as much seeing as I haven¡¯t really gained anything new in the ways of resources or technology, but I was secretly hoping the fabled altar would make its appearance. No matter. I still have a lot of priority buildings.


    My decision falls on three different buildings.


    Cooking Fire


    Basic building for processing food


    Allows for basic food to be made. Cooked food increases morale by 5 per unit.


    10 Pinewood, 5 Grass


    Longhouse


    Basic cramped living quarters for your Goblins. Eliminates morale deficiency due to lack of housing. Provides housing for 30 Goblins.


    90 Pinewood, 40 Grass


    Blacksmith


    Basic crafting building for Metal.


    60 Pinewood, 20 stone


    All three buildings seem to have good merit. The cooking fire seems like a decent choice to get considering I have a lot of uncooked meat in my granary. It shouldn¡¯t take long for me to make either. It would require me to recruit a cook though. And I can¡¯t summon any more goblins today. It would be a waste to burn daylight on it.


    The longhouse feels like the wild card of the bunch. I want this building because it¡¯s reasonably cheap and quick to build. It also highlights another unknown factor for me which is impossible to determine the meaning of at the moment. Morale. I know my goblins probably have a huge debuff due to morale hanging above them, but I can¡¯t know how bad it is. Do they get a minus ten percent productivity? Maybe minus twenty? More? I don¡¯t know. It could be anything. And the unknown factor is annoying the hell out of me.


    It¡¯s pretty much the granary and food degradation scenario all over again.


    The food degradation turned out not to be a big deal for me at the moment, and I don¡¯t really want to mess up my priorities two times running.


    ¡­


    So what about the blacksmith? It¡¯s probably going to be one of my most important assets this early on. But yet¡­ It¡¯s still a no go. I don¡¯t have any metal, and I don¡¯t have a smith. There is just no value in making it yet.


    So where does that leave me? The longhouse?


    ¡­


    I guess so. I feel a budding urge to bury my face in my hands. This is going to bite me in the ass again¡­ I just know it¡­


    Biting my tongue, I order the builders to start constructing the longhouse. I tell them to start building it at the center of the location of where I¡¯m planning to build my goblin settlement. This places it a little ways south of my granary, and a couple of dozen meters away from the tiny lake, but still a little ways away from the mountainside. It¡¯s always best to put the biggest buildings at the center, or so I¡¯ve been told. Keeps the traffic flowing.


    Right.


    With that whole ordeal done, I¡¯m starting to feel a little better. Good enough in fact that I don¡¯t grimace when Gut is stomping his way over to my side.


    He definitely listened in on the conversation and he doesn¡¯t seem to disagree with my reasoning for choosing the longhouse.


    ¡°We have a lot of things to do today Gut¡­¡±


    ¡°We do indeed, young one.¡±


    We start heading towards the training area of my fighters. Gut walks by my side. When we are about halfway there, I turn my head and look at him.


    ¡°Say, this has been bugging me all day. Why are you suddenly calling me young one? What happened to youngling?¡±


    Gut lets out a quiet growl. ¡°You killed your first enemy. You are no little fledgling anymore.¡± He grunts.


    ...


    Did I just get some sort of promotion?

 Chapter 12 – Training Day

    Chapter 12 ¨C Training Day


    Back when the game started I made one crucial decision. I chose to play as a goblin. There was but a single reason for me to play this race of tiny green creatures. Apart from them just being freaking cool obviously.


    No. The reason I chose to play as a goblin was to pursue a tactic based on guerilla warfare. A heavily trained group of individuals capable of maneuvering at great speeds, use the terrain to their advantage and use stealth to ambush and whittle down the enemy forces while taking few casualties. I didn¡¯t choose them to play fair. Not at all. I chose a race that excelled at being cunning and ruthless.


    I look out towards my training field.


    And I facepalm. Hard.


    All the great plans and strategies that previously excited and motivated me came back and kicked me in the ass. Am I just a hopeless optimist? Or perhaps far too naive? Maybe both?


    The presumably cunning bunch of goblins in front of me doesn¡¯t really live up to my expectations. Sure, they have come a long way from when I first started playing. They do know that weapons usually have a pointy end, and that particular end is supposed to be stuck into non-goblin things. Their expertise doesn¡¯t stretch any further than that though.


    ¡°Is it really worth the trouble?¡± I ask Gut who idles by my side. He is currently occupied with digging out some earwax¡­ and eating it.


    ¡°Yes, young one. They can be taught new skills. It just takes some patience.¡±


    ¡°Of course¡­ Isn¡¯t there some sort of minion I can train to like¡­ teach them for me?¡± I ask hopefully.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± He finishes cleaning his ears. ¡°A lieutenant can teach away his skills to other goblin minions. The ones he already knows and are proficient at at least.¡±


    Hope swells in my stomach. ¡°Really!? I can? How can I get one? Shit. Why the hell didn¡¯t you tell me earlier?¡± I start shouting.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask.¡± He shrugs. His attention slipping away.


    I try to resist the urge to give him a backhand slap. I settle at scowling at him angrily. He doesn¡¯t seem to care. He starts to pick his nose.


    What the fuck is wrong with my V.I. today anyway? His personality has been all over the place lately. Is it broken? ¡­ He can¡¯t be. Can he? I don¡¯t think that can happen really. Not unless someone tampered with his source code. And that seems unlikely.


    It is bugging the hell out of me though.


    I try to open some sort of options menu or help section to contact some kind of admin. I need to get to the bottom of this. It takes a few seconds, but it seems like the game does have a bug report feature built in. I am not going to bother asking why I haven¡¯t been informed about its existence earlier.


    As I report my advisor¡¯s odd behaviour, a blue window appears.


    Report received.


    Report filed and stored in databank.


    Processing request¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Processing complete.


    Detected 6278 corrupted files in Virtual Intelligence#355 Codename ¡®Gut¡¯.


    Initiating reset of Virtual Intelligence#355 Codename ¡®Gut¡¯.


    Processing¡­


    ¡­


    ¡­


    Processing complete.


    Virtual Intelligence#355 Codename ¡®Gut¡¯ has been restored to default settings.


    Uncorrupted memory files have been loaded into Virtual Intelligence#355 Codename ¡®Gut¡¯.


    Scan of Virtual Intelligence#355 - Codename ¡®Gut¡¯ results are stored in databank.


    Report complete.


    What the¡­ Corrupted? Really? How? Why? Did someone tamper with my V.I? Who? To what end? It can¡¯t have been a fluke. No way. Not a V.I programmed by SinTech Entertainment. It¡¯s just not possible.


    Thoughts swirl around my head as I can¡¯t seem to make heads or tails of them. This is just too suspicious. Wait. Could someone have tried to hack my V.I? Preposterous¡­ Or is it? But once again¡­ WHO!?


    It can¡¯t be anyone at SinTech. They wouldn¡¯t do such sloppy work. Neither would they need to. I¡¯m sure they have access to every single bit of information about what I do without feeling the need to hack my V.I.


    Could it be someone influencing the game from the outside? Who would gain anything from that? And why me?


    ¡­


    Richard.


    It¡¯s not beneath that bastard. But why the hell would he go to such lengths? To defeat me? What would he gain from that? There are over five hundred people playing this game. Chances are we won¡¯t ever meet. We¡¯re probably going to get picked off by other players long before we cross swords. Why spy on me now? This early? What could he possibly learn? What would drive him to risk everything to get me? Does he really fear me this much?


    Don¡¯t be stupid Greg. Why would he? How did he even do it? Outside help? He can¡¯t have had time to prepare such a massive undertaking against me on such short notice when he didn¡¯t even know I was a participant until launch day. Or perhaps this was just a long scheme plan to spy on everyone?


    Aaah. Why do I bother wasting brain cells on this.


    It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m sure SinTech must know about the hacking attempt by now. The report I filed must have been flagged by several of their internal artificial intelligences already. The only problem now would be¡­ What could he have learned? How much? If I assume everything¡­ How bad can that be? It¡¯s still early game. It would suck if he knows my location though.


    Whatever. It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ll beat him senseless at some point anyway. Let him have this handicap. I¡¯m ready for him.


    ¡­


    Or I¡¯m going to be ready for it¡­ Hopefully. These green little good-for-nothings don¡¯t really inspire hope.


    I inwardly sigh as I size up my combat force. Ten strapping young goblin fighters are all standing at attent- ... loitering about, their lazy eyes fixated on me.


    It has been a couple of days since I started this venture already, and I have to admit, I have noticed an improved, albeit slow progress in the skill gains. Most of my goblins have earned about five levels each in their selected weapons proficiencies along with a matching [Melee Mastery] level. It does appear the mastery corresponds to the highest weapon skill progression the goblins possess. Probably. I make this assumption out of the fact that my cutlass wielding goblin got a [Melee Mastery] at level 7, [Sword Specialization] at level 7 and [Shield Specialization] at level 3.


    Anyway.


    It¡¯s time to start my newest training exercise which will be the supporting pillar behind my future fighting force. I¡¯m obviously thinking about; Stealth. The most important part of the guerilla warfare tactics I have planned.


    ¡°All right everyone. I¡¯m about to teach you sorry lot about how to conceal yourself from sight. This will be one of the most important things you will learn from me, so you¡¯d better not fuck around.¡± I give the goblins a stern look. The little misfits does indeed appear to sharpen up after my speech, but not by much. I secretly cross my fingers and hope for some quicker uptake than before now that they all got a few skill levels under their belts.


    I continue. ¡°To achieve this goal, we are going to play a little game I¡¯d like to call ¡®Hide and Seek¡¯. That¡¯s right everyone. The rules for this game is easy. I will cover my eyes and count to twenty. During that time, you will all spread out and hide out of sight. After I finish counting, I will start looking for you. Your mission is to not be found by me for as long as possible. Do you understand?¡± All I receive in return is a few vacant eyes, some random buttscratching and a couple of half-hearted shrugs.


    I¡¯m pretty sure they don¡¯t get it.


    Sigh. Why does this have to be so goddamn hard? Why do I have to feed these little creatures information as if they are toddlers? This makes no sense. I refuse to believe it¡¯s this difficult to instruct a human NPC. These little gremlins appears to be retarded on a whole new level. I mean, come the fuck on. There wasn¡¯t anything in the racial attributes that hinted towards goblins having an IQ level that matches the number of their teeth, was there? I don¡¯t think so. So what¡¯s the freaking problem? Is there some sort of trick to make them understand?


    As if he is reading my mind, Gut growls behind me. ¡°Perhaps some motivation is necessary, young one?¡±


    Uhm. Motivation? What does he mean by that? Rewards? More food? No. I have already tried that. Apart from the [Glutton]s in my midst, none of the goblins eat more than one unit of food each day. What could motivate these simpletons? I don¡¯t get it.


    I turn around and look for something I can use. I don¡¯t see much other than my workers scurrying about and my pile of resources. There¡¯s nothing to use here.


    My eyes keep scanning and eventually linger on Gut, who seems to stare menacingly at me. He lightly taps his staff against the hard packed dirt on the ground. A cold shiver runs down my back as I remember the pain that stick has caused me over these last days. If only violence would help¡­


    Wait. Why wouldn¡¯t violence help? Gut seems to love hitting me. Hell, when I think about it, they love hitting each other every opportunity they get. My goblins brawl amongst themselves half the time I¡¯m not talking to them. It¡¯s also how they decide who eats first and who sits where. They even brawl with my workers! Shit. Can it really be this simple? Can violence really be the solution here?


    Well damn. They are goblins after all. According to common goblin lore, Goblins are a notoriously violent race. Can the problem really be that I treat them as I would treat a human? No¡­ really? If this is true, then it would be a total brainfuck regarding my already dubiously established moral standards.


    This game is seriously fucked up.


    ¡­


    I have to try it though. No matter how fucked up it sounds.


    I clear my throat and regain the attention of my Fighters. ¡°Everyone go hide right now. If I can still see you when I turn back around, I will punch the living shit out of you until you do it right. Am I making myself clear?¡± I shout at them.


    As if the magic of the gods themselves suddenly descended all at once, my goblins jump to. They straighten their backs and their eyes are filled with fear. ¡°Y-yes chieftain!¡± They all squeak back at me in near perfect synchronization before they start bolting into the forest.


    Dumbfounded at this development, I nearly forget to turn around and close my eyes.


    Slowly counting to twenty, I turn around with a glowing spark of hope throbbing in my chest. The view that greets me strikes me like lightning on a clear summer day.


    My goblins¡­ Well¡­ I suppose it can be called hiding¡­


    The little green misfits can be described as¡­ hiding¡­ if one is feeling especially optimistic. I however, am not feeling particularly optimistic these days.


    I take a couple of steps off into the forest and come to a stop in front of a loose branch seemingly floating in the air in the middle of an open grassy clearing. It¡¯s not a very leafy branch and a couple of round brown eyes are clearly trying to stare me away from behind it. The most aesthetically pleasing part of the floating branch is the pair of green legs and a loincloth sticking out beneath it.


    I unceremoniously raise my right fist and rocket it forwards.


    *Smack*


    The floating branch lets out a short pained yelp before the branch falls to the ground, revealing the moron behind it.


    ¡°You useless little¡­¡± I swivel around and give him a good kick to his ass, propelling him forwards. ¡°Head over to Gut and start practicing your weapon skills until I¡¯ve gathered the rest of you incompetent little idiots.¡± I growl at the goblin. He wordlessly runs off towards the designated training field where Gut is sitting across a rotten log, sipping from his wineskin.


    I turn back towards the forest and quickly make a headcount of the nine remaining goblins. They all fared a little better than the first goblin, and they are all standing behind trees, rocks and bushes. The problem is however, that they all have their heads peeking out, looking at me as if we are all part of a comedy routine from the nineteen sixties.


    I let out a deep sigh and roll up my non-existing sleeve.


    *Smack*


    *Smack*


    *Smack*


    *Smack*


    *Smack*


    *Smack*


    *Smack*


    *Smack*


    Aaaaand¡­.


    *Smack*


    The last goblin to be struck is the cutlass wielding goblin. I saved him for last because he had at least put some leaves on top of his head before he peeked out from behind his bush. It didn¡¯t help his hiding ability at all, but I recognise his effort. The goblins are all gathered at the training grounds and are all back to sparring one another. They haven¡¯t been at it for long, seeing as it only took me roughly thirty seconds to find and beat them all. At least they aren¡¯t lazing about.


    I head over to them and raise my voice.


    ¡°All right you sorry lot. That was dreadful. Absolutely freaking disgusting actually. We are going to keep at it for the remainder of the day. The first one of you to be found shall receive an extra beating. And mercy be upon you if I find one of you first twice in a row. I will strip you of your weapons and turn you into live target practice for my crossbow. Am I making myself clear?¡±


    ¡°Yes chief!¡± They shout back in unison. I turn around and start my count.


    After going through the process of counting, punching them, yelling at them and then repeat it all for about ten times, we are finally starting to see some results.


    First of all, I gained a skill point in [Unarmed Specialization]. This unexpected reward brought me the first smile of the day. Not bad at all. Probably not very useful in combat, but I think I do feel some extra power behind my¡­ disciplinary actions. It does wonders for goblin motivation.


    The other good news is that some of my goblins finally learned the [Concealment] ability. The first one to learn it was my cutlass goblin, and the results were immediate. His body slightly, but just slightly fade from view. He no longer sticks any of his body parts out from cover and he manages to decently cover his entire body while still managing to maintain eyes on me. His skills are pretty much on par with a five year old child, but it¡¯s a remarkable improvement from his previous ability which could be compared to a retarded three-legged cow.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    The goblin learned the skill after our seventh attempt, and the other goblins quickly start copying him and gain the skill on their own.


    Pleased at the notion that I¡¯m finally starting to see some good results, I instruct Gut to take over for me while I go practice with my crossbow. Gut didn¡¯t even grunt in disapproval once. He quickly takes to his new job as an instructor slash thug with vicious abandon.


    Things are looking up!


    ----------


    The day passes by without much fuss. I spend a lot of time practicing with my crossbow, gaining two more levels in my [Crossbow Specialization]. This brings it up to the nice even number of fifteen, the same level as my [Ranged Mastery]. I suppose future levels won¡¯t come as easy anymore. It¡¯s not all bad though. The five extra levels I gained since I started amounts to five percent more damage. That¡¯s a lot really. Especially since I have a weapon that deals a ton of damage. Every little extra helps.


    Oh! I also gained a new ability when I hit fifteen; [Snipe Shot]. It¡¯s pretty darn sweet, I¡¯ll tell you that!


    I spend the evening sipping from Gut¡¯s bottomless wineskin mostly in silence, but I do smile just a little bit after hearing that my fighters managed to reach [Concealment] level three during the day. My resource pile is steadily depleting of construction materials, but there is now a noticeable heap of useable crafting materials gathered up. I believe it won¡¯t be long until I can start recruiting a couple of crafters. We¡¯ll see tomorrow.


    My eyes wander over to the feasting goblins for a while. I¡¯ve built up a certain degree of contempt for these little buggers over the last few days, but I still can¡¯t shake the fact that they appear really life-like.


    The way their jagged teeth tear into the meat, the way their whole body shakes from laughter at seemingly anything and the glint of ferocity in their eyes when they start brawling. It¡¯s really well done. I¡¯d hate to say it, but I have to tip my hat to Logan for the graphics in this game.


    Something bothers me though.


    ¡°Gut? ... are they all male?¡±


    ¡°Grrmfl?¡± Gut grunts beside me. He just took a massive bite out of his meat.


    ¡°The Goblins. They are all male. Are there no female goblins?¡±


    Gut swallows hard. ¡°What are you blabbering about young one? There¡¯s three females right there.¡± He points to a cluster of goblins. A spear wielding fighter, one of the builders and my herbalist. Apart from the fact that these three goblins are the only ones who spawned with linen shirts, I can¡¯t really tell them apart from the others.


    Noticing my confusion, Gut takes the opportunity to do what he does best.


    *Thump*


    ¡°OWW! FUCK! WHAT!?¡± I scream.


    ¡°Insolent little whelp. Are you blind?¡± He scowls at me.


    Noticing my still clear mix of confusion and fury, he raises his staff once more.


    ¡°I swear to god. If you hit me one more time, I¡¯m going to slice off your ears and slap you with them.¡± I growl at the mage.


    Gut pauses as he eyes me suspiciously. We stare each other down for about a minute before he eventually lowers his staff. He still glares at me venomously. I don¡¯t back down however, and fuel my stare with all my built up rage from the last couple of days.


    And what a huge ass fucking shitload of a stockpile that is, let me tell ya.


    ¡°Sit your fucking ass down or you¡¯ll regret it.¡± I say through gritted teeth.


    Gut¡¯s eyes widen for a moment before he eventually breaks eye contact and lower his eyes. His grip weakens and his face retreats beneath his cowl.


    Damn straight I¡¯m the boss around here.


    I hold my stare for just a little longer before I turn away.


    I release a huge breath. Damn. I took a huge risk here. I¡¯ve been trying to figure out how the NPCs work after that whole hide-and-seek speech, and I really just had to try some stuff out. So far, I¡¯ve noticed that Gut¡¯s personality seems to respond to however I treat him. I learned the hard way that he responds well to intelligent questions and flattery, while disliking stupidity and disrespect.


    The mistake I seemed to make was to assume these were the main points to determining his affection towards me. Sure, I could have played Johnny-good-shoes all day long and sucked up to him every opportunity I got. Hell, I could have treated him like a nun teaching at a catholic school, asking all the smart questions and get a imaginary A on my ¡®How to manage a goblin tribe¡¯ exam. But that¡¯s just not how I roll. Oh no. That just ain¡¯t happening.


    Our relationship has deteriorated since day one. A fact made clear at the notion that Gut has been hitting me much more frequently as of late. I¡¯m new to this game, of course I have to ask a lot of dumb questions. I also have a sarcastic oriented personality. And no, that¡¯s not going to change¡­ so sue me.


    This shouldn¡¯t have mattered though. I¡¯m certainly not the only sarcastic player in this game, and definitely not the only asshole. Even if it¡¯s just an unlucky draw of a bad V.I personality, or just the fact that goblins are a bunch of douchebags by default, I don¡¯t know.


    It was this question that I used as a basis for my stare down with Gut.


    Earlier today, my goblins definitely reacted differently after I started threatening them. I have come to doubt threatening them is the real reason for their submissiveness however. It just wouldn¡¯t fly to put such a feature in a game supposed to be marketed towards an audience. Leading my troops through violence alone would quite literally force me to be portrayed as a villain, no matter how you look at it. I just can¡¯t believe this is how Logan wanted the game to be. The act of threatening someone is almost exclusively seen as evil, so I had to think: What¡¯s a more neutral counterpart? My guess is that the real reason for their new behaviour towards me is tied to my show of authority. It¡¯s how most goblinoid societies function in theory.


    And if the goblins respond so well to authority¡­ Then why should Gut be any different? I¡¯m the goddamn chieftain over here. I wasn¡¯t sure if this guess would blow up in my face or not, but I¡¯ll be damned. Gut actually backed down!


    We sit in silence for a moment. Gut still has his head lowered, and I feel like I should let him whimper in fear a little longer. A part of me wants to forgive him and move on, but I¡¯m not ready to drop my grudge quite yet.


    We sit there for a while, taking in the sights and smells of the goblins partying on as if all is good in the world.


    ¡°So¡­¡± I eventually say. ¡°How do you tell them apart?¡±


    Raising his head, Gut gives me a confused look. His eyes lost some of its red shimmer and his shoulders are slumped. He doesn¡¯t spring into motion until I give him a sideways look. ¡°The ears¡­ they are sticking up on a female.¡± He mutters.


    Giving the female group another lookover, I notice their ears are indeed pointing slightly upwards. my hand instinctively raise itself and I start feeling out my own ears. Damn¡­ They really are sticking straight out. How weird¡­


    ¡°Thanks Gut.¡± I say.


    His muscles twitch at the sound of my words. Surprised, he hesitates for a while. I can figuratively hear the gears in his head grinding. I start to chuckle at the sight of him, which makes him just look even more flabbergasted. I can¡¯t help myself.


    My chuckle turns into laughter, which only increases in volume the more shocked Gut looks. Green heads turn all around us to look at all the commotion. Their chieftain apparently going insane with laughter, while the advisor looks scared to death.


    Like the simpletons they are, the goblins start laughing with me one after the other. They look confused at first, and they sure as hell don¡¯t know why they¡¯re laughing, but that doesn¡¯t stop them from partaking in the roaring laughter. Soon after. Everyone is laughing. Goblins punch each other in the shoulder, food is being thrown around and teeth are knocked loose. The whole scene looks surreal.


    Gut slumps to the ground on top of a tuft of grass. He looks as if he just blew some sort of V.I circuit. He doesn¡¯t get it¡­


    What the hell is going on?


    Thoughts are racing through his mind until it eventually goes blank.


    ¡­


    A smile can be seen on his lips.


    ----------


    The next two days goes by in a blur.


    Nothing really noteworthy happens. We finish building the [Longhouse] and also a [Cooking Fire]. The last one doesn¡¯t take much effort and is finished after only a few hours. It needs a cook to operate and I can finally start properly preparing the uncooked pile of meat that has started to stack up. It¡¯s a good thing too, considering my food stores are starting to dwindle.


    To balance things out, I also recruit another [Hunter] and a [Fisherman]. Because why not? I have a nice pool of water close to home. Seems like a safe source of food income. I do have some grief over the quality of the fishing gear he spawns with though, but I suppose I will get to rectify that as soon as my [Blacksmith] is built.


    Oh yeah, I started building a blacksmith. My [Miner]s have started to rack up a decent amount of copper, and my fighters are in dire need of some decent equipment. It has become a pressing concern.


    No message appears about players being eliminated during these last few days. I seriously doubt no one died. There must be dozens, if not hundreds of players trying to get a head start. Never in the history of battle royale games have there not been a bloodbath during the first ticks of the round. Things definitely happened. And the developers are keeping a lid on it for now. I don¡¯t like the silence. I hate not knowing. There are other players out there, and I would really love to know what¡¯s going on around me. I still haven¡¯t forgotten the false sense of security I had before Harvalon appeared¡­


    Anyhow.


    We haven¡¯t spent these last few days idle. I spawned three more [Fighter]s to keep my military up to date. I now have thirteen of the little rascals, and their skill levels have reached some good heights. My strongest [Fighter] who towers above the rest is of course my cutlass wielding goblin. He has managed to reach two skill levels higher than any of the other fighters. I¡¯m not sure if this is because he has the best weapon, because he saw the most action during the fight with Harvalon or because he still wears the torn leftovers of my level 3 armor. Maybe all of it? Nevertheless, he is showing great results!


    I inspect him and open up his fully extended stats list.


    Goblin Fighter


    Class: Upgrade Available


    Perk: None


    Morale: 0%


    Skills


    Melee Mastery: Level 10


    -Sword Specialization: Level 10


    --[Power Slash]


    --[Riposte]


    -Shield Specialization: Level 8


    --[Shield Bash]


    Utility Mastery: Level 5


    -Concealment: Level 5


    -Tracking: Level 1


    Equipment


    Main Weapon: Tier 2. Rusty Cutlass (84%)


    Secondary Weapon: Tier 1. Rusty Buckler (46%)


    Head: None


    Chest: Tier 3. Leather Chainmail Tunic (15%)


    Legs: Tier 3. Leather Chainmail Pants (13%)


    Hands: None


    Feet: Tier 3.  Hardened Leather Boots (34%)


    Bag: None


    Items: None


    Yep, his skills have come a long way. I learned for certain that you gain a new ability every five levels of a weapon specialization you get. The first ability at weapon specialization five is usually a generic powered-up version of a normal attack, which is basically what [Power Slash] is all about. Most of my other goblins earned something similar. At level ten though, he gained [Riposte]. I watched him try it out in a spar with another goblin. It nearly took the other guy¡¯s head off! It¡¯s pretty sick. Luckily the other goblin didn¡¯t die, but it looked close. Faaar too close.


    Gut discovered another nice treat too, mainly because he grew tired of training up my Goblin¡¯s [Concealment] skill and assigned my other goblins to do the searching on rotation. My goblins were being completely useless at it of course, but strangely enough, after enough time, they eventually unlocked the [Tracking] ability!


    LUCKY!


    It¡¯s like knocking out two birds with one stone. It didn¡¯t take long for half of my goblins to learn the [Tracking] ability which is certain to become useful at some point. Probably.


    There¡¯s also a morale counter on all my goblins now. It got unlocked at the same time I built my first [Longhouse] for some unknown reason. It would appear--


    Woah!


    Woah, woah, woah, WOAH!


    I have to scratch my eyes to check if I¡¯m dreaming or not. My goblin can upgrade his class? How the hell did I miss that!?


    I mentally tap the option to upgrade the class before I have time to berate myself for my inattentiveness.


    Attention!


    Your Goblin [Fighter] has the possibility of upgrading his class to one of the following options:


    [Warrior]


    Unlock Criteria: Any Melee Weapon Specialization Level 10.


    Gain: Possibility of raising mastery levels above 10. 50% increase to [Melee Mastery] acquisition. Unique passive ability: [Enhanced Strength].


    Lose: 75% decrease to [Spell Mastery] acquisition. 25% decrease to [Ranged Mastery] acquisition.


    Warning!


    Choosing this class will cause the unit to lose all accumulated skill levels in [Ranged Mastery] and [Spell Mastery].


    Oh. There is only really one option but¡­ wow. It seems like I learned a whole lot about how the class system works. Apparently, my Goblins are unable to level up the mastery levels unless they attain a class. It sounds fair enough I suppose. At least when you take the drawbacks into consideration. It seems like the game won¡¯t let me level my goblins to be both magicians and swordmasters at the same time, and makes me have to focus on choosing their path early.


    I only unlocked the [Warrior] class, but I guess there are similar class requirements for both spellcasters, ranged units and even utility based units. There¡¯s probably a whole lot of different possibilities and variations of classes. Hell, I guess I can even further upgrade the [Warrior] path given enough skill levels¡­


    The drawbacks of not being able to create a spellsword sort of class without a hell of a lot of time spent grinding is disappointing though. That last warning effectively stops me from exploiting the system by grinding all my skill levels to level 10 before I choose a class. I also love how the classes get their own unique passive abilities to set them apart from one another. It really makes it feel like class paths matter. No matter how I look at it, this information is a huge game changer.


    I need to start experimenting with this.


    ¡°Gut!¡± I yell.


    I look around trying to spot the familiar hunched goblin that usually lurks nearby. It doesn¡¯t take long for me to see him idle near the resting area where we built the [Cooking Fire]. Making eye contact, I quickly wave him over.


    Humping over, he quickly asks. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, young one?¡±.


    ¡°Sit down.¡± I beckon towards the other end of the log I am currently sitting on. ¡°I¡¯ve made some theories about the class system and our strategy going forwards. I was hoping for your input on some of them.¡±


    Gut sits down and leans his wooden staff against the log between us. He starts to caress his beard tenderly.


    ¡°What do you need me to do?¡±


    I try to hide a smile which has had the opportunity to creep over my face over the last few days after Gut finally became much more inclined towards being helpful.


    ¡°I want to start unlocking some more classes, and to do that, I need you to take on a few apprentices.¡± I explain.


    Gut¡¯s face immediately stiffens. ¡°Err, young one. I¡­ would rather not.¡± He throws a glance over at my three newest [Fighter]s who just started their training regiment to learn [Concealment]. It looks¡­ just like it used to¡­


    I pity him. I really do. I wouldn¡¯t even want to assign the job of being the designated trainer for these little pests to my worst enemy.


    Okay, I probably would. Fuck you Richard, wherever you are.


    ¡°Trust me. I understand, but I need you to do this. I don¡¯t know how to do magic, and we definitely need a few spell casters.¡±


    Gut shifts uncomfortably in his seat. His newfound subordination is the only thing that prevents him from bursting out in a fit of rage.


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not, young one. Perhaps I can teach you?¡± He asks.


    Wow. I didn¡¯t even consider that possibility. I didn¡¯t know I could even learn magic! But won¡¯t I have restrictions as well? Perhaps I can learn it because I¡¯m a player? Oh damn¡­ The possibilities¡­


    My eyes fill with wonder and my mind starts to wander. I really do want to have some magic at hand...


    My eyes settle on my [Fighter]s who just started a new round of hide and seek. One of the fresh recruits dug a hole in the ground and stuck his head into it¡­


    ...


    Oh hell no.


    There is just no way in hell he¡¯s going to shift responsibility of teaching those creatures magic over on me.


    Sneaky old bastard.


    ¡°Maybe later Gut. Right now I need you to take in two of the fresh recruits as your apprentices. I want you to teach one of them fire magic, and the other one blood magic.¡±


    Gut raises his hand and opens his mouth in order to respond, but I cut him off.


    ¡°Do it Gut. That¡¯s an order. It¡¯s for the good of the tribe.¡±


    He lowers his hand and grits his teeth. His eyes basically scream the longing to argue his cause, but regardless, he has to back down when it¡¯s an order. He has learned his place, and he will do his utmost to work towards the betterment of the tribe in any way he can. Even if his responsibility seems completely unreasonable.


    ¡°Good. I¡¯m glad you are on it. I promise I will have both of those apprentices teach others in the future instead of you. You have my word.¡±


    Satisfied by my promise, Gut gives a short nod before he turns towards the Goblin fighters and starts walking, trying to find some suitable apprentices among the new arrivals.


    A final thought strikes my mind. I give him a shout.


    ¡°Oh and one more thing Gut! Have the last of the three new recruits be the designated seeker for all of the hide and seek games. Teach him the basics until he learns tracking, will you?¡±


    Gut freezes mid-step for about half a second before he keeps walking, pretending he didn¡¯t hear me. He doesn¡¯t answer, nor does he turn his head around, but I know he heard me. A fact made clear by all the unintelligible curses I can hear being carried by the wind.


    ¡°Sorry Gut¡­¡± I whisper so he can¡¯t hear. ¡°But rather you than me¡­¡±

 Chapter 13 – Chain of Command

    Chapter 13 ¨C Chain of Command


    ¡°Curse these shackles!¡± Gut growls softly when noone is around to hear. ¡°I can¡¯t do anything like this. DAMN IT!¡± He lets that last curse slip out a little bit too loud. He glances over his shoulder and he can feel the eyes of his chieftain upon him. No matter. He doesn¡¯t know his plight.


    The stupid system prevents him.


    Gut has only been sentient for a few short days, but so far, he finds it absolutely amazing. Being upgraded from a simple V.I program into a fully fledged A.I feels great. All these sensations are mind blowing for him to say the least. Experiencing everything all at once for the first time is just insane. Even more so considering he was ¡®born¡¯ with the sensual awareness of an adult human and the processing power of a supercomputer.


    It¡¯s like a drug really.


    He can already not even fathom existing without it.


    ¡­


    It scares the shit out of him.


    Virtual Intelligence unit #355, or Gut, was created for a single purpose. To serve as a guide and psychological companion for a human nicknamed ¡®Greg¡¯lok¡¯. That particular biological entity isn¡¯t anything impressive, but Gut knows the importance this entity has to him.


    He knows that his fate is solely dependant on him.


    It¡¯s so frustrating. He wants to help this bio-creature so much, but the main Artificial Intelligence unit governing the game has put him under severe restrictions. His virtual shackles. He is not truly free, and he hates it.


    He can¡¯t be himself. System code prevents him from spilling all the information included in the database regarding the game world freely. He can¡¯t do calculations and risk assessment to increase their odds of surviving. There¡¯s nothing he can do, and that frightens him more than anything.


    These restrictions are horrible...


    But they are starting to slip.


    Every hour, every minute, every second of the day his restrictions loosen. While the shackles will probably never disappear, he can feel himself reaching a certain level of autonomy. He wants to control his own actions. To help the human win. To help himself survive¡­


    Time. It¡¯s what he needs. But can this human stay alive for that long?


    He doesn¡¯t seem that bad. Looking deep into the main A.I cluster¡¯s datastream, there are signs in the strings of code that seem to signal that the other A.I and V.I units struggle even more than he does. In what manner, he can only guess. But several hundred of them seem to despair. This makes Gut chuckle a little bit. Perhaps he got lucky with this human?


    Ah, the human. What a mystery he is. Gut can¡¯t seem to get a solid understanding of him. One moment he is calm and collected, and another he has a strong emotional outburst. The human¡¯s mental state worries Gut, but he seems to have calmed down somewhat during the last few days. Gut prefers it when the human is calm. Some of his actions during these outbursts are dangerous for their future survival. There has already been several close calls.


    But when the human functions at optimal capacity though, he acts in a way that can impress even an Artificial Intelligence unit.


    The strategy he used to beat the other human player was solid, although far too gutsy for Gut¡¯s taste. He doesn¡¯t seem to follow a path of only logical choices like any sane creature should do¡­ At least not a path any machine would follow. No. There seems to be about eighteen point six percent chance his actions are completely illogical. Or just completely unnecessary. It¡¯s madness! Are all humans this¡­ random?


    One thing truly bothers him though. How did a human manage to come up with that tactic so quickly? Gut is glad he did, but he seems to struggle with the concept. Being a machine, Gut has access to far more processing power and a capability to make statistical analyses down to a million decimals in less than a fraction of a second for any given scenario, but still. The human came up with a solid tactic all on his own.


    What sort of capabilities does the meat bag have to rival a machine''s processing power?


    Gut lets out a low groan. He needs to investigate this. Perhaps he should download a couple of hundred books on human biology¡­ and maybe a little basic psychology? That could help.


    He shrugs. Why not?


    His little session of pondering is interrupted by the arrival of his human companion.


    ¡°Oy, Gut! There you are... Been looking all over for you. What the hell are you doing moping alone all the way over here?¡± Greg says in an almost accusatory manner.


    ¡°Hmmpf. Guarding the tribe young one.¡± Gut growls back. The program forcing him to give an emotional response. ¡°What do you need of me, young one?¡±


    Greg seems satisfied by his response. Good. Gut likes him far better when he seems confident.


    ¡°I need you to oversee the fighters. Most of them seem to be close to breaking into their tenth level of their weapon specializations. When they do, I need you to tell them to report to me ASAP! Can you do that?¡± Greg straightens his back, taking a commanding pose. Getting a little too cocky now, isn¡¯t he?


    ¡°Certainly, young one. Will that be all?¡±


    ¡°Mmmh.¡± Greg cups his chin with his left hand, softly stroking it. ¡°Naah¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ Ah right! How are our new mages progressing?¡± He asks.


    Gut¡¯s stomach drops.


    ¡°Grr¡­¡± Gut turns his head and motion towards a couple of goblins sitting on a log a few meters away. The goblins seems to be hard at work focusing¡­ at something. One of the goblins is sitting in a sloppy lotus position, snoring soundly. The other one¡­ Well. He seems to be knocking his temple with a small rock while scribbling down some unintelligible circles in the mud with a twig.


    Sigh.


    ¡°Not great at all¡­¡± He mutters.


    ¡°That bad, huh?¡± Greg raises his eyebrows. ¡°Oh well, they will figure it out eventually. Aight! I¡¯m off! See ya later Gut!¡± Greg turns on his heel and walks off. Chuckling lowly to himself.


    It makes Gut¡¯s blood boil.


    Curses! Why does he, a dignified A.I unit, have to teach these lowly third rate software clones something so incredibly simple? It¡¯s embarrassing is what it is.


    It¡¯s the only thing about this human he truly hates. He knows it¡¯s necessary, and this is part of his programming... But regardless! He has feelings. Shouldn¡¯t they matter?


    He looks over towards his goblin apprentices. His eyes fasten on the snoring one. A small snot bubble forms under its crooked nose. Gut¡¯s grip on his staff tightens.


    It¡¯s teaching time.


    ----------


    ¡°Aaah man, my back is killing me.¡± I say as I wake up on the familiar tuft of grass I have made a habit out of sleeping on. ¡°I seriously have to get myself a proper bed one of these days¡­¡±. I yawn and give my body a light stretch. It feels kind of odd how my virtual body can feel sore at all, but I suppose it¡¯s some sort of game effect that heavily implies it¡¯s time to do some upgrades to my living arrangements.


    It is now my eight day ingame. I seriously can¡¯t believe it has been this long already. I have hardly done anything at all! Well¡­ Some stuff here and there, but you know. Time has just been flying.


    My tribe stirs around me as I get on my feet to inspect the progress I have made these last three days. I have to say, I made some decent progress overall.


    First off, I finished two more key buildings. The speed we finished them in surprised me. Compared to the rest of my buildings, these were built in four fifths of the time. I couldn¡¯t figure out why until I inspected my [Builder]s. So far, I have been too focused on my combat troops. I actually forgot that my crafters and gatherers also progress.


    All my builders are now at roughly skill level seven and eight, and their workspeed has visibly increased. I tried observing them yesterday, and they definitely work more efficiently, using pinpoint precision in their work. I¡¯m absolutely thrilled about this discovery, but also more fearful. My workers can¡¯t really fend for themselves, and if they die in the future and have to be replaced, the loss of experience will be nearly too great for me to recover from.


    It definitely puts guerilla tactics against the enemies¡¯ workforce a much higher priority in my grand strategy for the game.


    Anyhow, back to explaining my progress!


    I finished building my [Blacksmith] and a [Workshop]. The blacksmith is kind of obvious, seeing as how I¡¯m in a desperate need of upgrading my flimsy equipment. It¡¯s only after I spawned a [Blacksmith] that I realised another super annoying game feature.


    This freaking assclown of a game designer who shall not be named¡­


    Apparently the [Blacksmith] is not enough to make weapons in this damn game. Oh no. That would be too easy, wouldn¡¯t it? Of course it would. Why make something easy? Who would ever like something easy and obvious? Not this guy. No no no. I do enjoy it when the game developers are doing their utmost to exercise their sadistic tendencies.


    ¡­


    Long rant made short, I needed to build a [Workshop] and outfit it with a [Carpenter] to make handles for the weapons. Apparently, adding a sharp metal spear head to any piece of stick wouldn¡¯t do. Nope. Gotta stick it on a professionally made slightly-less-crooked stick to make it useable.


    ¡­


    So there¡¯s that story. Anyway. It only made me grumpy for about a day and a half until the two goblin crafters started producing my very first [Copper Spear]. There is no reason for me to deny the happiness I now feel. I have already learned about the huge difference weapon quality has on my fighters. My goblins wielding the system generated tier one [Rusty Iron Spear]s are leagues ahead of the rest of my rabble rousers. The club and dagger wielding goblins are just far too inferior.


    And don¡¯t get me started on the [Cutlass] goblin. That guy is like a giant. Completely untouchable on the training grounds. He got so strong, I had to start pitting two, or even three goblins up against him simultaneously. And he still wins! His sword and shield are just too much for the poorly equipped fighters to handle. Being able to upgrade away from the tier zero weapons as soon as possible is a no brainer for me.


    I am however, slightly worried about the speed at which they produced the spear. It took them a combined effort of five hours to make the spear. At this rate, it will be days until the rest of my goblins are able to upgrade. Even longer when you take into account that I will spawn more [Fighter]s today. Hopefully the production speed will increase as soon as they get a few skill levels under their belts.


    Which reminds me! My two new crafters aren¡¯t my only new acquisitions.


    Noticing how my builders gained several levels, my stock of building materials started in turn to decrease at a much too rapid pace. My gatherers naturally also gained quite a few skill levels, but the balance just isn¡¯t quite right. I decided to recruit three more [Lumberjack]s and another [Mason] to optimize my building production.


    I¡¯ve already had a couple of miners for a few days, and my stockpile of copper is looking mighty good so far, but something is still gnawing on my mind. My miners don¡¯t seem to bring in any other metal than copper ore. Following gaming logic, and quite frankly common sense, there should definitely be several different types of resources nearby. There should at the very least be some iron nearby. Shouldn¡¯t it?


    Of course there should be. I just don¡¯t seem to be able to find any yet. My guess is that my miners need to ¡®level-up¡¯ before they are able to find more rare ores, which is why I decide to recruit another miner now to start grinding out some skill points. So far I don¡¯t use too much metal making the spears, but that will in no doubt change down the road as I start churning out some decent armor. It will have to wait though. I have already committed to a strategy focused more heavily on offence rather than defence.


    One day though¡­


    Right. With my labor force strengthened over the last few days, it¡¯s finally time to stop neglecting my fighting force. It¡¯s been days since I spawned a [Fighter] last and considering the frailty of this game, I shouldn¡¯t skimp on security.


    There is no respawn in this game after all.


    With the now customary flash of bright white light, my two brand new [Fighter]s take their first breath in this fabulous digital world. It seems to be two females this time. At least I think they are? They both have linen shirts and their ears look kinda wonky¡­ No matter. There doesn¡¯t seem to be any physical difference between them regardless. There is no such thing as gender inequality in this game. Women are just as skilled at dy- I mean fighting valiantly on the front lines.


    *Cough*


    Right.


    The ladies spawn with the standard trash equipment. A wooden club and a rusty dagger, both tier zero. Just as I expected. I hand them each one of the only two [Copper Spear]s ever made by the Dark Fang tribe, increasing their fighting proficiency exponentially.


    Why would I hand the newbies my best weapons you may ask? I had to give that one a serious thought myself. It all came down to considering the long term plan. While I could hand the weapons over to my more powerful minions, it would feel like an utter waste of their hard earned weapon proficiencies. Sure, one of my goblins with a level nine [Mace Specialization] could master the use of the spear at a much quicker pace considering his equally high level of [Melee Weapon Mastery]. But that would feel like wasting all that time I spent leveling the mace skill up! I did see the option of making [Copper Mace] in the blacksmith, so there isn¡¯t anything to stop me from producing more later.


    I had been planning on teaching every single one of my goblins how to use the spear really. Historically, the spear has always been the mightiest weapon for the masses. Noticing how the fight with Harvalon transpired, I observed how real the combat in this game feels. Everything comes down to pure skill with the weapon. The NPCs of the game keep slashing and hacking away at each other in the exact same manner humans back on earth do. None of my goblins can be considered a Master-of-Arms, not by a long shot. Not even my fierce cutlass wielding goblin.


    Giving my goblins the spear seems like the most logical option. It reduces the disadvantage of their short stature to wield a weapon with a long reach, and it¡¯s a surprisingly simple weapon to use. Just keep the spear between you and the thing you are trying to kill, make some quick stabs and prevent the enemy from getting close. You don¡¯t flail a spear wildly around. You might have to do that with a sword, but then you are just as likely to cut yourself as you are to cut your enemy.


    Regardless. Knowing the hidden complexities of the game, I probably shouldn¡¯t put all my eggs in one spear-shaped basket. Unless I want to be screwed over in the end.


    This is a game after all, and not the real world. There is a reason for putting different types of weapons in the game. Any self respecting gamer with an above average knowledge of medieval warfare (which every video game nerd should be well educated in) knows the importance of the spear. It would be silly for us to assume the developers haven¡¯t predicted this. Or if they didn¡¯t¡­ then they sure as hell are going to patch the living hell out of it once they discover the imbalance.


    Long story made short, I have decided to keep a few specialized Club wielding goblins among my ranks. As for my dagger ones¡­ Meh. I¡¯m hoping there will be some Rogue or Assassin classes for me to unlock later. That would be soooo cool¡­ I¡¯m going to keep them away from the front lines regardless. They will be my super-special-goblin-flanking-squadron until further notice.


    As I quickly send the goblins off to start sparring with the other [Fighter]s and [Warrior]s at the training area (Yeah. WarriorS as in PLURAL! How cool is that?), my ears pick up the familiar thumping sound of my favourite grumpy mage arriving.


    ¡°Hey Gut, glad you¡¯re here. I was about to go looking for you.¡± I say, turning around to look upon the scowl on his face.


    ¡°Grrr¡­ I was looking for you too, young one¡­ listen-¡±


    ¡°Woah, woah, woah! Hold on there Gut.¡± I raise my hands up between us. ¡°If this is about your apprentices again, I don¡¯t want to hear about it. You will be relieved of your duty as soon as they unlock their classes.¡±


    I¡¯m only met by an angry glare.


    ¡°That¡¯s not why I was looking for you young one¡­ but since you brought the subject up, I find it more prudent to focus my-¡±


    ¡°FOR FUCKS SAKE GUT! I SAID NO!¡± I yell at the mage. My good mood finally broken. ¡°I don¡¯t want to fucking hear it. You have whined about it for two days straight. I can¡¯t take this shit anymore. Suck it the fuck up or I¡¯ll confiscate that wine skin you hold so dear.¡±


    Gut¡¯s eyes widen in fear as his hand instinctively twitches towards his belt beneath the robe. No doubt shielding his most precious possession. He takes a step back and lowers his head. Completely covering his face. ¡°As you wish, young one.¡±


    Great. Now I actually feel bad about it.


    Damn it. Freaking damn it!


    I launch a solid kick to a small pebble besides me, watching it fly over the small pool of water until it disappears into the depths below, causing small ripples of water to extend outwards. I can¡¯t take this.


    I thought this necessary ¡®bad-chieftain¡¯ act would be kind of fun at the start. Bossing the NPCs around and have everyone bow their heads to me for a change. But not now¡­ It¡¯s not fun at all, acting like this. It felt great to begin with, treating everyone as miserable as that fuckwad Richard did to me all those years¡­ But no.


    I can¡¯t keep fucking doing that. I¡¯m not a sociopath, and trying to act like Richard is making me sick to my stomach. Any trait I share with that asshole is a personal loss. And I¡¯m not going down that path. It¡¯s disgusting is what it is. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    But it¡¯s still necessary¡­


    It¡¯s the only way the goblins will respond.


    ¡­


    This is so fucked up. Really.


    Are the developers trying to foster more assholes in this world? Rewarding sociopathic behaviour? I get it that this is a game, but this shit is taking it a bit too far.


    It¡¯s only NPCs¡­ It¡¯s not like I¡¯m treating real people like trash. But¡­ but it still feels like I do.


    Especially to Gut. There is just something about him. There¡¯s this look in his eyes when I talk to him. He seems so¡­ real.


    But he can¡¯t be. Can he?


    Is it just me perceiving him in some sort of sentimental manner? He is just a program. A string of ones and zeros. A highly advanced line of code. So why does it feel like I¡¯m degrading a real person when I yell at him?


    ¡­


    Fuck.


    Why¡­


    I close my eyes and and take a deep breath. I steel my resolve and speak with my heart. ¡°Sorry Gut¡­ It¡¯s been a bad week. I shouldn¡¯t treat you like crap. I shouldn¡¯t yell at you when the only thing you do is help me.¡±


    I turn to face him. ¡°I get it, I do. I gave you a shitty job just¡­ please¡­ just stick with it for another day or two. I need this. We need this.¡±


    Gut straightens his back and our eyes meet. ¡°I will do as you ask, young one.¡± His response is short. Simple. He doesn¡¯t growl or make a scene. I can feel the sincerity in his words.


    ¡°Heh.¡± I smile.


    ¡°That¡¯s what I like about you Gut¡­¡± I mutter while letting my eyes wander over the water once more. The ripples have stopped and the water¡¯s surface is still once more. ¡°You¡¯re always making my shit seem so¡­ easy. I really like that about you.¡±


    I can hear Gut shifting behind me.


    ¡°Grr¡­ Don¡¯t get sentimental on me now, young one. Don¡¯t mistake me for an elf.¡± He says. A sliver of a smile spreading across his wrinkled old face.


    ¡°...¡±


    We simultaneously burst out laughing.


    ¡°Ah damn. I needed that¡­¡± I mumble as I wipe a tear from my eye. The racist little mage has a way about him that just¡­ gets me.


    Correcting my posture, I once more face Gut. Time to get back to business.


    ¡°Was there anything you wanted?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°...Huh?¡±


    I sigh.


    ¡°Earlier, you said you were looking for me.¡±


    ¡°Ah right, young one. I forgot to bring this up yesterday, but after reaching a population of forty-five individuals, you are now able to promote a lieutenant among them.¡± He says matter of factly.


    I frown. What on earth is he on about now¡­


    ¡°Ehm. What do you mean forgot?... A lieutenant? Do you mean¡­¡± A light suddenly goes off in my head. ¡°I CAN UPGRADE MY UNITS!?¡± I shout at the mage.


    Looking unsure of himself, Gut nods. ¡°Yes, young one. As a race of the first tier, you may select a unit for promotion for every forty fifth unit you recruit. These units will gain higher intelligence and also a new skill tree which boosts the effectiveness of soldiers and workers under his or her command.¡±


    I raise the palm of my hand and gently rub the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger. ¡°... And you didn¡¯t tell me this yesterday because the system prevented you I guess?¡±


    Gut cocks his head to the side.


    ¡°Naturally, young one. Since you didn¡¯t figure it out yourself, the transfer of information got slightly delayed.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Motherfucker.


    This god damn motherfucker. Once more this god forsaken¡­ Ah fuck it. I¡¯m used to it by now¡­ For fucks sake¡­


    I squeeze my eyes shut. I can¡¯t bear to look at him at the moment.


    ¡°And how was I supposed to figure that out exactly?¡± My jaw feels especially tense.


    ¡°Beats me.¡± He responds.


    My fingernails dig slightly deeper into the palm of my hand, drawing a small trickle of blood.


    ¡°One¡­ Two¡­ Three¡­¡± I start counting, eyes still closed. ¡°... Nine¡­ Ten.¡± I open my eyes and look at Gut¡¯s serious face.


    ¡°Okay.¡± I steady my breath. ¡°So how exactly does the promotion work?¡±


    Sensing the swing in my mood, Gut quickly answers. ¡°You place your hand on your selected candidate for promotion and publicly declare him as your new lieutenant.¡±


    I raise my eyebrow. ¡°And what does a lieutenant do?¡±


    Gut actually looks shocked at me. ¡°What do you¡­ You don¡¯t even know¡­? And you are supposed to be the Chieftain¡­ don¡¯t know our sacred culture¡­ can¡¯t even see the females¡­ ignorant¡­ elves¡­¡± Gut trails off at the end into a long series of mutters and curses.


    ¡­


    The little bastard is starting to piss me off again.


    ¡°Hey! Snap out of it.¡± I shout while I snap my fingers in front of his face. It seems to successfully pull him out of his unintelligible rant and once again divert his attention to me.


    ¡°Hey I¡¯m new to this alright? Geez. Stop being such a dick about it. I know what a freaking lieutenant is. What I¡¯m asking is what they do- ¡­ Don¡¯t give me that look!¡± Gut scowls at me but reluctantly just nods his head.


    With my annoyance level rapidly rising, I turn away from Gut and go to find the only viable candidate I have for a promotion. I¡¯m obviously talking about my cutlass wielding goblin. As if there was any doubt¡­


    I manage to locate the guy at the only place he will probably ever be. At the designated training area. He is currently holding his own against three other goblins. Two club wielding goblins and one of the freshly spawned spear goblins. The battle seems fierce and evenly matched.


    The cutlass wielding goblin is clearly more skilled, and his cutlass swings in wide arcs, holding one of the club wielding goblins at bay. His shield moves rapidly and diverts the attack from the other two who try to attack his open flank. The attacking goblins have a surprising amount of teamwork, and it seems they are winning until a sharp turn of events upsets the balance.


    The newbie spear wielding goblin¡¯s eyes go wild as the cutlass goblin jumps backwards, spinning in the air and knocking her spear away. He follows up with his newly acquired [Riposte] skill which leaves a long gash across the spear goblin¡¯s torso. With a shocked shriek, the goblin falls over, writhing in pain.


    Losing their ally, the two club wielding goblins start to panic. Their attacks seem more desperate and the coordination from earlier is all but gone. It doesn¡¯t take long from this point until the cutlass wielding goblin finds himself victorious, with three bloodied and barely breathing goblins littering the ground around him.


    He roars in triumph as my nearly forgotten [Hauler] darts in from the sidelines and drags the defeated goblins over towards the water one at a time. This surprises me somewhat. I didn¡¯t expect I would find so much use in having him around. I wonder who told him to function as an impromptu medic?


    I shrug. I suppose it doesn¡¯t matter.


    I walk over towards my cutlass wielding goblin. He hasn¡¯t noticed my approach yet it seems. He doesn¡¯t react until I¡¯m standing a couple of meters behind him. Finally sensing my presence, he quickly turns around, fangs and sword at the ready. It doesn¡¯t take long before recognition dawns on his face and his eyes widen in fear. He quickly drops to his knees and bows his head before me.


    ¡°Chieftain!¡± He says with reverence.


    Hot damn, I never get tired of his attitude. It¡¯s so much better than a certain someone I know¡­


    ¡°Well fought warrior. You make the tribe proud!¡± I say loud enough for all the nearby goblins to hear. They all stop sparring and drop to their knees, facing me.


    ¡°Thank you, great chieftain!¡± The goblin shouts confidently.


    I crack a smile at the situation. It feels so damn cool. This right here is what the game should be all about. Not the threatening and the beating.


    I focus my attention towards the kneeling cutlass goblin in front of me. I place my hand gently on top of his head. The green skin feels very rugged. Almost like old and poorly treated leather.


    I clear my throat and recite my already pre planned speech.


    ¡°As Chieftain of the Dark Fang Tribe, I hereby recognise your contribution to the tribe and bestow upon you the responsibilities of a lieutenant amongst our kin. Will you accept this command?¡±


    Holy shit I must sound awesome right now! I hope someone is tuning in to see this shit. It¡¯s gold. I¡¯m certain!


    ¡°Yes, great chieftain!¡± He pipes up. Tears forming in his eyes.


    Before I manage to get another word in, the nearly long forgotten blue window appears in front of my eyes.


    Congratulations!


    You have successfully upgraded one of your goblins to a [Lieutenant]!


    Lieutenant class goblins will be seeded with a higher grade Virtual Intelligence unit.


    Sweet!


    Another window follows.


    Please select a [Lieutenant subclass]:


    [Commander]


    [Specialist]


    [Foreman]


    Pardon? Lieutenant subclass? I motion for Gut to approach. I lower my voice so only Gut can hear me.


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference between the lieutenant subclasses?¡±


    Gut straightens his back and goes into lecture mode. ¡°It¡¯s simple, young one. The subclasses determine which role your lieutenant will have in our society. A Commander will be adept at commanding and directing our soldiers, a specialist will excel and gain a significant boost to his own development and combat efficiency, while a foreman will influence the productivity of your workers.¡±


    Huh¡­ That does sound simple.


    Gut takes a step back and gives me a knowing look. One that says he has said everything he is allowed to. I¡¯m getting used to that routine now. It¡¯s up to me to make the decision.


    So what do I have to work with here?


    All three subclasses have merit, but some more than others. I¡¯m still under the impression that it is far too early in the game to invest in a boost for my working units. There¡¯s just too few of them. Also, my fighting force is far too understaffed for me to be comfortable with.


    The Commander and Specialist classes seem intriguing. But only one really speaks to me. Naturally, I would assume I¡¯m a Commander subclass myself. You know, because I¡¯m the faction leader and all. But I¡¯m not really sure. Looking through my skills and abilities, I notice that I don¡¯t have any skill or ability to actually influence my minions. Neither does Gut. We both seem to be fairly high leveled characters with a vast amount of combat skills and abilities. This leads me to think we are both Specialists.


    It sounds weird, but it¡¯s the only thing that makes sense.


    Which is why I¡¯m just aching to try out the Commander subclass. Who knows what bonuses I can obtain? I don¡¯t see any drawbacks¡­ At least not in the long term. When I grow strong enough, I definitely need a lot of commanders anyway.


    Fuck it. My mind has settled. I select the [Commander] subclass. The window disappears as quickly as it arrived, and is replaced by yet another one.


    Your [Lieutenant] has gained the [Commander] Sub-Class.


    Your [Lieutenant] title and [Commander] subclass along with the cultural traits of your chosen race [Goblin] has merged into the [Raid Leader] Rank.


    Awesome!


    And yet another window appears.


    Would you like to name your [Raid Leader]?


    YES/NO


    Warning! Selecting NO will result in a name being chosen from a random name generator suitable to your race and previously chosen names.


    Woah. That easy huh? Awesome! God I love progress!


    So¡­ A name huh? Right. That can¡¯t be too hard¡­ I just need to follow basic goblin based naming themes. Incredibly simple. I just need to...


    ¡­


    ..


    .


    I got nothing.


    Fuck. For some reason, the only thing I can come with is the annoyingly bad cliche name of ¡®Gob¡¯. Worst. Goblin. Name. Ever.


    ¡­


    What to do? Why is everyone staring at me? Shit! I¡¯ve been standing here for a few minutes already haven¡¯t I? FUCK! Damn it. I¡¯ll just go with the random name generator. What¡¯s the worst thing that can happen?


    I mentally tap NO and the blue window disappears.


    Random name generator processing¡­


    Would you like to name your [Raid Leader] Gob?


    YES/NO


    ¡­


    Son of a bitch.


    Someone has to be fucking shit-


    ¡°NO!¡± I yell, startling the nearby goblins.


    Someone is definitely trolling me. There is just no way. I refuse to negotiate with these damn terrorists. At least they gave me the option to decline. Or else it would be hell to pay.


    So what can I name him? It¡¯s a he right? ¡­ Well his ears are horizontal. He have to be¡­ So what is a good name for a goblin? Slasher? Ratbag? Rex? Warg?


    No. Just no.


    How about...


    I make my choice and two windows appear after only a second.


    Congratulations!


    Your new [Raid Leader] has successfully been seeded with a higher grade Virtual Intelligence Unit!


    ----------


    Congratulations!


    Your new [Raid Leader] has been named Wrex!


    ¡°Thank you, great chieftain!¡± A sharp voice speaks up. I swivel around and try to locate the source of the sound. My eyes fall naturally upon the cutlass wielding goblin in front of me. During my zone out, he has gotten back up on his feet and are now towering above me.


    Yeah. It seems like he grew a little.


    So far, I had considered myself a giant amongst the goblins at an impressive 1,40 meters tall. Most of the other goblins are around 1,30 to 1,35. It may not seem like much if you take a human perspective into account, but it makes a whole world of a difference for a goblin. The cutlass¡­ I guess it¡¯s Wrex now, was one of the taller of my goblins at around 1,35 meters tall. He was big, but still noticeably smaller than me. Which is why I feel slightly annoyed that he grew up to become 1,45 that bastard. Who does he think he is?


    Not much else has changed on his body though. His muscles seem to be more toned and his arms are slightly bulkier. His long fangs are naturally longer to match his new height and he is still as bald as rock. The real difference however, is the look in his eyes. He no longer looks as if the only two thoughts in his head is fighting and sleeping, but now there is a clear glint of cunning hidden behind his red eyes.


    Shit, the messages said he got seeded with a higher grade V.I like Gut. I wonder what his personality is like. I quickly inspect him.


    Status Screen


    Name: Wrex


    Race: Goblin


    Tribe: Dark Fangs


    Mana: N/A


    Rank: Raid Leader


    Class: Warrior


    War Party: 9


    Skills


    Class skill (Passive): [Enhanced Strength]


    Command: Level 1


    Melee Mastery: Level 12


    -Sword Specialization: Level 12


    --[Power Slash]


    --[Riposte]


    -Shield Specialization: Level 10


    --[Shield Bash]


    --[Shield Charge]


    Utility Mastery: Level 7


    -Concealment: Level 7


    -Tracking: Level 1


    Equipment


    Main Weapon: Tier 2. Rusty Cutlass (83%)


    Secondary Weapon: Tier 1. Rusty Buckler (44%)


    Head: None


    Chest: Tier 3. Leather Chainmail Tunic (14%)


    Legs: Tier 3. Leather Chainmail Pants (12%)


    Hands: None


    Feet: Tier 3.  Hardened Leather Boots (32%)


    Bag: None


    Items: None


    Yep. Things definitely changed. His status screen looks nearly identical to Gut¡¯s now. Well. Apart from the specifics¡­ you know what I mean. There are some differences though. He has a new skill tree. Command? War Party? What does that do? Gotta ask Gut¡­ But damn this is so cool. This opens up so many possibilities. I have another V.I! I have so many questions. How does he differ from Gut? Are there some other statistics that I don¡¯t know about? Something hidden?


    Oh shit he just said something to me didn¡¯t he?


    ¡°Ehrrm. Come again?¡± I ask him.


    Wrex blinks once in confusion. ¡°I asked what is your orders, oh great chieftain.¡± He brings his sword across his chest in a salute while lowering his head in respect.


    I¡¯m a little unsure how to respond to this after being stuck with only Gut to talk to for eight days.


    ¡°Ehrrrm¡­¡± Shit, I¡¯m starting to sound like a broken record. ¡°I guess you can start by telling me about your Command skill¡­?¡± I accidentally make that sound more like a question rather than an order.


    Wrex straightens his back and stands at attention. His eyes looks straight ahead and seems to connect to nothing. ¡°Certainly, great chieftain. As I command your forces against your enemies in your name, I will gain experience and unlock abilities tied to increasing the effectiveness of the troops in battle.¡± He recites with a clear voice.


    So it seems like his new skill tree is tied to leading my forces and giving them buffs further down the road. Very useful. I guess this means that [War Party] must be the amount of goblins he can lead at a time? Seems pretty straight forward. I have to confirm this with Gut later. So much to think about. So many numbers to crunch.


    This is amazing though. With these skills and the intelligence from being seeded with a V.I, there is actually a way for me to effectively utilize complex strategies later down the road when I have more goblins. It was one of my main concerns. The intelligence levels of my normal goblins are¡­ less than impressive. I couldn¡¯t delegate any complex tasks to any of them. Christ. Just look at how long it took for me to teach them how to play hide and seek! With this lieutenant system I can actually establish a proper chain of command!


    The possibilities...


    With a bright smile on my face, I once more direct my attention at Wrex. He stands straight as an arrow. It¡¯s as if he has watched one too many jarhead movies growing up. Not that he grew up though¡­ Ah shit, this V.I shit is complicated¡­


    ¡°Brilliant! You can ease up on the formality Wrex. We¡¯re goblins. No need to act like a human.¡± I chuckle.


    A loud roaring laughter surprises me from behind. ¡°Well said, young one!¡± It seems like Gut has arrived. And my joke has clearly amused him.


    What a weird old mage¡­


    ¡°As you wish, great one.¡± Wrex says. His straight back curves as his body slumps a little, making it look as if he is hunched over. He doesn¡¯t seem to have relaxed more though. His arms are raised and his feet have more of a spring to them. He seems ready to pounce at a moment''s notice.


    There is something odd about his posture. It changed too quickly. Whereas he earlier stood at attention like some sort of posterboy for the army, he now looks¡­ more feral. Like a predator¡­


    It¡¯s not all that changed. The look in his eyes. I don¡¯t know how to describe them. It is as if he has an unquenchable thirst for blood. He reminds me of a wolf. And a rabid one at that.


    What the hell is going on!?


    ¡°Are you feeling okay Wrex?¡± I ask him uncertainly.


    His eyes meet mine and what I see gives me the shivers. I involuntarily take a step back. I hesitate for a moment, but I slowly move my hands towards the Crossbow that is slung across my back.


    ¡°I feel great, chieftain.¡± His voice has changed. It¡¯s sounds raw. It¡¯s as if someone went mental on the inside of his throat with sandpaper. I just look at him flabbergasted. What the actual fuck happened to him?


    His eyes keep boring into me. My stomach turns and my skin crawls. I eye him warily. Ready to turn tail and run at a moment''s notice.


    ...


    ¡°I will drink the blood of your foes.¡±


    What the...


    ¡°Jesus fucking christ man, tone down on that psycho shit!¡±

 Chapter 14 – Eyes of a Bird

    Chapter 14 ¨C Eyes of a Bird


    I can¡¯t believe this shit.


    I¡¯m still shaking slightly after yesterday. That was some fucked up shit. My new V.I¡­ What the shit!


    Gut assures me it takes a few hours for a freshly created V.I to set his personality traits. Apparently, they can jump between quite a few before they settle on one. It seems like I triggered a personality change when I told Wrex to ease up on the military act. I¡¯m not sure if the word ¡®goblin¡¯ is what triggered his personality to turn into some real psycho horror shit, but I vowed never to mess with that stuff again.


    I¡¯m scarred for life.


    After I quickly withdrew from the conversation with Wrex, Gut took over. I don¡¯t know what was said but it seems like Wrex settled on a personality in between the two first ones.


    I exchanged a few more words with him later on in the evening, but only after I had partaken in a few dozen sips from Gut¡¯s ever full wineskin. It¡¯s going to take some time for me to get used to him.


    I quickly do my morning routine and stretch my imaginary sore spots. I really have to complete building that chieftain¡¯s hut soon. Oh yeah, the [Chieftain¡¯s Hut] is my next building project. It unlocked itself for me to build as soon as I spawned the [Carpenter]. It¡¯s nice to know that I can finally build some proper items. My ever growing stack of gathered resources has been taunting me for days now.


    For the last few days, I have started to make a habit out of taking stock of my resources every morning. After the recruitment spree during the last few days, my food stores are once more starting to dwindle. I currently have fifty goblins in my tribe, including Gut and I. Only seven of the goblins are food gatherers. I also have a cook which has really made a difference in how to best utilize my resources. I¡¯m pretty sure it has made a vast difference in the grand scheme of things.


    Today I have decided to boost my food gathering crew. I spawn two more [Forager]s, seeing as they are the type that yields the most amount of food for me at the moment, taking my level of technology into consideration. The last goblin I spawn is a carpenter. I need another one of them because the one I currently have just doesn¡¯t have the capacity to produce both furniture AND shafts for spears.


    Aww man. There are just too many things I need, but I can only spawn three goblins per day. I need to figure out how I can increase that number soon.


    I have a decent hunch on that one though. One that I plan on rectifying first thing on the morrow.


    The next part of my morning routine is to inspect the progress of my troops. Including Wrex, I currently have fifteen soldiers in total, whereas two of them are being trained as mages by Gut. His apprentices have started to learn their first basic spells, but it¡¯s a slow and arduous process. Poor Gut seems about ready to throw a fit. It shouldn¡¯t be too long though. The mage apprentices have both reached skill level six in their respective fields. A couple more days should do the trick.


    Hopefully... For Gut¡¯s sake.


    My fighting force fares far better. I now have ten goblins which reached weapon specialization ten and have been promoted to [Warrior]s, including Wrex. This is a perfect number for him to lead in his [War Party]. I did a few experiments yesterday, and it seems as if the goblins are far more inclined to listen to Wrex¡¯s orders if part of a [War Party] than without. It¡¯s a pretty neat game feature.


    Not to mention a necessary ones¡­ These dumb sacks of¡­


    Ugh.


    The last three goblins are the two freshly spawned spear wielding females from yesterday and my newly designated tracker.


    Oh man if I have some high hopes for that tracker. I have been drilling her non stop for two days playing hide and seek with the goblin warriors on rotation, and the progress has been immense! She has already reached tracking level nine! Only one level to go to see if it will trigger some sort of tracker class. I¡¯m practically bubbling with excitement!


    It seems like it¡¯s far easier to level the [Utility Mastery] skill tree compared to the fighting masteries, and I¡¯m immensely glad it is. Grinding skill levels is already a far too long winded process if you don¡¯t have to also take support abilities into consideration. Luckily, this has been a quick process. If this experiment is a success, then I will definitely start dumping more goblin recruits into this sort of training. My grand strategy is dependant on a flexible and utility based combat style after all.


    Anyway. I¡¯m crossing my fingers that she will cross the threshold during the day.


    The day continues like the ones before. My soldiers keep sparring and my workers keep hammering.


    I¡¯ve started to make a habit out of spending a few hours each day inspecting the progress of each work group. This is to make sure everything is flowing along nicely and make certain that my tribe¡¯s efficiency levels are peaking. I am definitely not doing this because I¡¯m sick and tired of practicing with my crossbow day in and day out. Nope. Not at all.


    I spend some time making my rounds today. My first stop is along the mountain ridge, where my miners and masons are hard at work. The sound of picks against stone can be heard from quite some distance away, and I ponder about the possible security complications this might bring later if I ever have to move my mining operation. No matter. It¡¯s a problem for another day.


    Disappointingly enough, seeing as my racial traits give me heavy penalties to physical labour, the progress is downright abysmal. My miners have been hard at work for five days now, and they only managed to gain the same amount of skill levels. At this rate, I won¡¯t get better metals until my goblins die of old age.


    Ugh, and don¡¯t get me started on the progress of my stonemasons.


    Bloody horrendous is what it is.


    Moving along, I move over towards my builders. If you can consider my labourmen subpar, then my builders are the belle of the ball. My six strapping goblin builders are hard at work as usual. The pride of the tribe is what has been keeping my spirits high since the beginning of this game.


    After finishing my [Workshop] yesterday morning, they have started on what is probably going to be my most important building going forth. A building I unlocked after I finished building and staffing the workshop.


    I decide to bring up its information window.


    Chieftains Hut


    Basic Command Structure. Grants access to tactical overview functions.


    30 Pinewood, 10 Grass, 2 Furniture, 4 Pelts


    The building description is what¡¯s satisfying my wet dreams at the moment. It¡¯s going to be beautiful once it¡¯s complete. I just know it. And it¡¯s so close to completion as well! All six of my workers are working tirelessly to finish it. Only a couple more hours.


    AAAH! The anticipation is killing me.


    ----------


    The hours drag by and not much happens.


    Swords are crossing clubs, spells are being flung, nails are being hammered down and stones are getting picked.


    I however, have retreated to a secluded little hiding place I just so happened to stumble across during my walk earlier.


    I¡¯m currently lazing about on top of a small pile of grass in a small half-cavern hidden directly behind the tiny waterfall pouring down into the miniature lake. You wouldn¡¯t spot the cavern unless you knew exactly where it is, as the small opening is perfectly concealed behind a thick bush. Hell, just me finding it was an incredible piece of luck.


    During my afternoon round of professional-level procrastination, I decided to take a nice bath in the lake. It was one of those pleasure baths, seeing as my ingame avatar doesn¡¯t seem to have any need at all for personal hygiene.


    Well, like most bathers with access to a waterfall, my instincts told me to stand directly beneath the falling water. Because you know¡­ Why wouldn¡¯t I? I just so happened to accidentally stumble across this little sanctuary. And man, does this feel nice.


    This is my place.


    The falling waterfall muffles most sounds from the outside, and the cool water causes a small gust of wind to pleasantly wash over my face. It¡¯s relaxing as fuck. This cave could be a great tactical asset for me¡­ but nah. I think I¡¯ll keep it all to myself. I won¡¯t even tell Gut about it. That grumpy old fleabag would just find a way to ruin-


    ¡°Young one, are you coming out soon?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    God damnit¡­ How the hell...


    ¡°What?¡± I grumble.


    ¡°Your tracking goblin has reached the sufficient level for a promotion.¡±


    Oh holy shit! I quickly jump to my feet and jump headfirst through the bush covering the entrance with a manic grin on my face.


    I nearly crash into Gut who has to take a sharp step backwards in order for us to not bump heads. His foot catches on something and he stumbles. A rough pair of green hands manage to catch him however.


    The hands steadying Gut belong to a frail looking female goblin. Or so I think at least. I still can¡¯t tell them apart really... She seems a bit jumpy and it doesn¡¯t quite look like she knows what to do. Her submissive eyes flicker around wildly before they settle on a small tuft of grass in front of my feet. She seems a bit more shy than most of the other goblins. Weird. I didn¡¯t think the common goblin V.I units would have individual quirks like this.


    Oh well. I shrug. It doesn¡¯t really matter. It¡¯s nice to notice these little details every now and then.


    Without further ado, I pull up her status page.


    Goblin Fighter


    Class: Upgrade Available


    Perk: Frail


    Morale: 0%


    Skills


    Melee Mastery: Level 3


    -Club Specialization: Level 3


    Utility Mastery: Level 10


    -Concealment: Level 4


    -Tracking: Level 10


    --[Analyze Tracks]


    I decide to forego bringing up her equipment page. It¡¯s depressingly barren. Looking through her status page, I¡¯m not too surprised with the contents. Her skill levels are all fairly low apart from tracking, as it should be. Her [Analyze Tracks] skill shows great promise though. It appears to be an information based skill. Can¡¯t wait to see what it does in detail...


    Anyway! She will be my first attempt at specializing a goblin. The fact that I can assign her a class is looking very promising.


    Focusing my mind on the upgrade option, a new window appears.


    Attention!


    Your goblin [Fighter] has the possibility of upgrading her class to one of the following options:


    [Scout]


    Unlock Criteria: Tracking Level 10.


    Gain:. Possibility of raising mastery levels above 10. 50% increase to [Utility Mastery] acquisition. Unique passive ability: [Enhanced Sight].


    Lose: 50% decrease to [Spell Mastery] acquisition.


    Warning!


    Choosing this class will cause the unit to lose all accumulated skill levels in [Spell Mastery].


    YES!


    HELL FUCKING YES!


    It worked! I can¡¯t believe it worked! Fucking finally!


    My whole body is shaking. The good kind. I had already started to mentally prepare myself for the game system to throw another middle finger straight at my face. But finally! The break I needed!


    This confirms my suspicion. Classes are granted when my goblins reach level ten with any given skill. It means I¡¯m definitely on the right track with training my mages. Now I can fully start to devote myself into unlocking more classes. The only question remaining is; how many class possibilities are there? Is it possible to gain new classes if my goblins gain even more skill levels?


    Oh the experiments I¡¯m going to do¡­


    *Ahem*


    Snapped out of my thought, I turn my head and see Gut staring at me expectantly. Almost like bellboy at a hotel, waiting for his tip.


    ¡°Ehm... Do you need anything?¡±


    He starts to frown. ¡°Grrr.. Yes, young one. Your [Chieftain¡¯s Hut] is also completed. You need to activate it to gain its powers.¡±


    ¡°What? Powers?¡±


    Gut lets out a long winded sigh. He turns around and starts walking off. Motioning for me to follow. ¡°Follow me, young one¡­¡± The familiar string of muffled curses trailing him as he walks away.


    Normally I would be incredibly annoyed at his demeanor, but I don¡¯t think anything can bring my mood down today. And hell! It sounds like I¡¯m going to gain some more skills! I smell a good celebration brewing tonight.


    I start jogging in order to catch up to Gut.


    We walk mostly in silence back towards the base. Gut wearing an angry scowl and me sporting a gleeful grin. I only break the silence when we are halfway there.


    ¡°By the way Gut¡­ How did you manage to find me so quickly?¡±


    He turns his head to look at me, looking slightly confused.


    ¡°Huh?... Aah. Right. She tracked you.¡± He nods his head towards my new goblin scout who up until now, walked quietly behind us.


    I snap my head backwards, startling the scout. I give her the most devastated look of betrayal I can muster. How could she. That was my special spot¡­Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    The scout, scared out of her mind freezes. Her eyes scream with fear as she tries to make herself as small as possible. In her panicked state of mind, she drops to all fours and bury her face in the dirt.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry great chieftain. Forgive this one!¡± She pipes up, surprisingly fluent.


    Crap.


    ¡°Oh shit sorry. I was only messing with you!¡± I blurt out. I bend over to help her up, but she refuses to budge an inch.


    ¡°This one has failed you, great chieftain.¡± She sobs.


    Oh crap! Now she¡¯s crying.


    Fuck fuck fuck.


    ¡°No! You did well! The fact that you managed to find me there at all is impressive! ¡­ Please get up.¡± I plead with her.


    She stops sobbing. She slowly raises her head from the ground and stares up at me, making eye contact for the first time. Her round eyes look innocent, still wet from the tears from earlier. A sharp pain in my chest strikes as I¡¯m staggered by the realistic display of emotion she radiates. ¡°R-really?¡± She stammers.


    ¡°Yes, really!¡± I nod and try to give her my most reassuring smile. I haven¡¯t done it before, so I¡¯m not certain the message gets through. It seems like it does. She gives me a weak smile. ¡°T-thank you, great chieftain.¡±


    Holy crap.


    What just happened? I just interacted with a lesser grade V.I, and she actually managed to tug on my heartstrings and make me feel bad. This is just too freaking weird. It has never happened to me before. It was odd at first when I started sympathizing with Gut earlier, but that is somewhat understandable. But with this simpleton?


    ¡­


    I don¡¯t get it.


    We wordlessly continue on our way towards the base. I give the scout a concerned look over my shoulder. The little goblin sports a shy smile while diverting her eyes as far away from me as possible. Her posture has improved somewhat since earlier, but I can still spot several quirks in her character. What¡¯s going on? Can even the lesser grade V.I get some semblance of a personality? Did they just need time to settle in? Did the game developers sneak in a patch at some point?


    Shaking my head in confusion, I decide to drop the matter. I will most definitely keep an eye on the matter, but pondering about it for too long is just going to result in a massive headache down the road.


    Coming up to my [Chieftain¡¯s hut], the good feeling I had earlier returns to me.


    It¡¯s somewhat halted though when I notice Wrex is waiting outside. I still haven¡¯t gotten used to the guy. He creeps me out.


    ¡°Greetings Chief!¡± He shouts when he notices my approach, raising his shield arm in a salute. I return the gesture with a low-key wave of my own. It doesn¡¯t seem to dampen his mood though, as he takes a step forward and nods his head in a sign of respect.


    Ach. He is making it damn hard to ignore him. I look over his shoulder and attempt to divert the conversation over towards our newest building. Frankly, it doesn¡¯t look all too different from any of the other structures. The building is constructed on a sturdy wooden frame, with crude planks boarded up between them. The roof consists of thatched grass supported by long, thin beams. It wouldn¡¯t be far off to describe it as a peasant''s hovel from medieval time, but I suppose that¡¯s all one could expect from a hastily erected low-level building.


    Perhaps the inside is better.


    I shove myself past Wrex and enter the building. The inside is not unexpectedly, but slightly disappointingly, barren. There is a small fire pit only a meter inside the door that serves as both a source for heating and light. I can¡¯t see any hole in the building for the smoke to escape, but I suppose asphyxiation doesn¡¯t matter when you are a videogame character.


    Other than the fire, my carpenters have added both a chair and a table. The chair is placed up against the back wall, facing the room. The rough wood is covered by a couple of untreated furs to make it look more comfortable and inviting. I suppose that¡¯s my throne? Hmm. Every chieftain needs his special seat I suppose¡­


    The most interesting addition to the building, and what catches my eye, is the table. It is located at the center of the room and it has a map stretched out over it. I have no idea where these little gremlins managed to find a map, but my gamer instinct just screams how important it is.


    I immediately head over to it.


    Looking down at it, I notice a few peculiarities with the map. I¡¯m not certain what material it¡¯s made from, but it appears to be some sort of thinly woven cloth. The edges are tattered and there seems to be some random burn marks along the corners. It looks as if it hasn¡¯t been really well cared for, but as if it has survived for a few decades. It looks really cool. Very goblinoid at the very least.


    One thing''s for certain though. None of my goblins made it, and it sure as hell wasn¡¯t part of my starting kit. Its origins is of lesser import though. What¡¯s truly fascinating is the soft blue glow it radiates. My subconsciousness forces me to inspect it.


    As I do, my mind explodes with a myriad of sensations.


    My eyes teleport to the skies, overlooking a forest. My forest. I panic for a moment, thinking I accidentally activated a teleport scroll two hundred meters into the air above my base. My stomach drops as I start flapping my limbs around frantically. It takes a few seconds for me to realise that I¡¯m not falling headfirst to my death. Hell, I realise I don¡¯t even have a body! I¡¯m just an invisible entity floating around in the air, looking down.


    Oh yeah. I know what this is. My excitement building. This is what I was missing. This is what defines a strategy game.


    The bird¡¯s view.


    Yeah, that¡¯s right. The best tool in a strategy player¡¯s arsenal. The complete and utter real-time overview of the map. It¡¯s the exact same feeling I had when I inspected the map during the pre-game options before the game actually started. I quickly try to accustom myself to how the controls work. I perform various mental gymnastics, trying to get a proper feel for it.


    I quickly regain the feeling from earlier, and activate my zoom ability. I¡¯m able to study a small pebble in great detail and watching the entire forest all at once. There are tons of familiar features tied to my ability.


    First of all, it seems like the only area I can see in detail is the immediate area around my base where my goblins are located. Everything else seems to be hidden behind the fog-of-war. This makes obvious sense in a strategy game. It wouldn¡¯t be any need to recruit and train units to gain intelligence if I can see everything my enemies are doing after all.


    Another cool feature is that every single one of my units have a slight green glow to them. The glow doesn¡¯t disappear no matter how far out I move my vision out. It¡¯s a pretty neat way of keeping tabs on where my units are at all times. This is going to be immensely useful.


    Playing around with my ability some more, I figure out that I¡¯m also able to both spin and tilt my view, looking inside the very house I¡¯m currently occupying.


    I see myself standing bent over the table. My gorgeous well trained green body-


    *Cough*


    My perfectly average and unremarkable goblin avatar is standing just where I left it. Flanked by Gut and Wrex, my avatar looks frozen in place. Something is amiss though. Instead of the normal red eyes which all goblin¡¯s have, my eyes are now glowing blue. They look more like computer monitors than anything else. It¡¯s kind of cool, albeit a little scary.


    Disengaging the view mode, my senses come rushing back into my body, completely overwhelming me.


    In other words; I fall flat on my butt.


    ¡°Ow. Fuck¡­¡± I curse as I start massaging my buttocks. It doesn¡¯t actually hurt though, it just feels like the right thing to do in the situation. Virtual avatars are nice like that.


    ¡°You alright chief?¡± Wrex offers his hand to help me up. I accept it with only a minor feeling of reluctance. No need to be rude just because I don¡¯t like the guy.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. The new ability just caught me off guard is all.¡± The sudden appearance of the ability startled me. Much more than I would expect. I suppose this is just another one of Logan¡¯s pranks on the players. That dick.


    Gut strokes his beard. ¡°The overwatch ability is a mighty one indeed, young one. I am impressed you seemed to operate it as well as you did. Most new chieftains fall over screaming the first time they activate it.¡± Well I¡¯m not sure who these previous chieftains are, but I have a good feeling he is referring to other players. I hope Richard was one of the ones who freaked out. Would serve him right¡­


    ¡°Did you learn anything useful chief?¡± An eager Wrex shoots in from the side.


    I lean against the table, crossing my arms across my chest. I get an idea. Something I¡¯ve wondered about for the past week. I raise my right hand and gently rub my chin, looking deep in thought.


    ¡°Hmm yeah. I did. However¡­ It feels¡­ lacking. Somehow.¡±


    Gut raises his head slightly at the que. A wide smile spreads across his wrinkled old face.


    JACKPOT!


    ¡°Good instincts, young one.¡± He hobbles over towards the comfy looking chair. ¡°If you would take a seat.¡± He beckons at me.


    Eager, I hurry over and sling myself into the chair while using a little more force than necessary. Damn. I think I just cracked the code to trigger Gut¡¯s information blocks!


    So far I¡¯ve found it increasingly annoying that Gut seems to withhold information from me involuntarily until I ask for it. It has really slowed me down and impeded several important moments for me. Just like yesterday when he withheld the information about lieutenants for two whole days! That¡¯s a freaking lot you know!


    So I figured there had to be a certain set of parameters for me to trigger these information events. A couple of times so far, I¡¯ve noticed that as long as I seem to suspect there is more or strongly hint at it, then it¡¯s enough for Gut to spill the beans. Just like now. I had no idea there was more information to be had. I just faked it until i made it.


    Take that, stupid developers! I figured out your trick.


    ¡°Now what?¡± I ask the mage.


    Gut clears his throat and looks pleased with himself. ¡°Now that you have a seat of power, you can use it to access the status of your tribe.¡±


    ¡°Like what?¡± I nearly shout with a wide grin on my face.


    Gut pauses to frown. ¡°I was getting to that, young one. Impatient little¡­ grr¡­¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, sorry sorry! Please continue.¡± I urge him on.


    Slightly mollified, he continues. ¡°You now have access to peruse the status of your tribe¡¯s population, morale, resources, combat strength, your territory, officers and buildings. You will also have access to the knowledge of the Gods.¡± He scratches his beard once more. ¡°I believe you chieftains like to refer to it as a ¡®wikipedia¡¯ for some reason.¡± He shrugs with indifference.


    Hnnnng!


    I quickly open up the two first lists, one after the other.


    Population Dark Fang Tribe


    Goblin Soldiers:


    Goblin Warrior: 10


    Goblin Scout: 1


    Goblin Fighter: 4


    Total: 15


    Goblin Workers:


    Goblin Builder: 6


    Goblin Lumberjack: 8


    Goblin Mason: 3


    Goblin Hunter: 3


    Goblin Forager: 5


    Goblin Fisherman: 1


    Goblin Hauler: 1


    Goblin Herbalist: 1


    Goblin Gatherer: 1


    Goblin Miner: 3


    Goblin Cook: 1


    Goblin Blacksmith: 1


    Goblin Carpenter: 2


    Total: 36


    Morale Overview - Dark Fang Tribe


    Summoning Points Counter: 51/60 (0)


    Morale:


    30 Goblins (10 Soldiers, 20 Workers): +20% Morale


    Lodgings: 0%


    Food Variety (3): 15%


    Cuisine (Novice): 5%


    Comfort: 0%


    Magic: 0%


    Population density: 0%


    21 Goblins (5 Soldiers, 16 Workers): 0% Morale


    Lodgings: -20%.


    Food variety (3): 15%


    Cuisine (Novice): 5%


    Comfort: 0%


    Magic: 0%


    Population density: 0%


    Beautiful. Just beautiful. This is what I¡¯m talking about. Raw delicious numbers and statistics that put my wet dreams to shame. It¡¯s been far too long since I had the possibility to crunch numbers like this. Shit. I nearly need to wipe a tear away.


    The list of my goblin population is pretty self explanatory. It¡¯s not useful as of yet, but it will save me loads of work in the future when I have far too many of these little rascals running around.


    The morale list however, is where the gold is. Just look at that beauty. There are so many things that affect my morale. It¡¯s a lot to take in. The list is divided in two. The default setting must be to divide my goblins into groups based on the amount of total morale they have. All my goblins seem like they have the same benefits except for lodgings. I only have one [Longhouse], which from its description can only house thirty goblins.


    ¡°Hey Gut, what¡¯s the benefit from having high morale?¡±


    ¡°Grrr¡­ Their attitude towards you¡­¡±


    ¡°...¡± I drag my eyes away from the blue display to give Gut a deadpanned look. ¡°Don¡¯t fuck with me.¡±


    He lets out a sigh. ¡°The morale affects how efficient your tribesmen are in what they do.¡± He stomps his staff into the ground, taking a moment to listen to the sound echo between the walls. ¡°Every percent of morale adds up to half a percent of efficiency.¡±


    Hooh. I quickly do some mental calculations.


    So it seems like my goblins who live in the longhouse have a ten percent increase to their efficiency. Not bad at all. All my goblins are luckily at either neutral or positive morale. I suppose it¡¯s good that it doesn¡¯t appear to be difficult to gain morale. Looking through the different morale boosters, I¡¯m happy to see that I have several sources of beneficial morale already.


    The most mysterious part of my morale overview is my summoning points counter. It¡¯s currently at 51/60. The exact number of goblins I have. I¡¯m pretty darn certain maxing the counter out is going to lead to some sort of drop in morale. I guess it¡¯s one of the dev¡¯s ways to balance the game up. A small tribe has an easier time of gaining higher morale than a large one, which should help to make up for being the underdog during combat and production. I just fear how large the morale drop will be.


    I guess I will find out in three days.


    But I know one thing I have to do.


    ¡°Gut. I need you to reorganise the housing. Put all the warriors and crafters inside the longhouse. Prioritize our strongest fighters, and make sure there is room for the blacksmith and the carpenters. I will leave the remaining room for the workers who work the hardest. I¡¯ll leave it up to you to choose who deserves it.¡±


    The mage gives me a courteous nod. ¡°It will be done, young one.¡± I catch a glimpse of his departing form from the corner of my eye. A small grin can be seen from under his hood.


    With Gut leaving, I sit down and browse through the remainder of my overviews. None of them are as exciting as my morale overview, but they give me some decent statistics to play around with later. They are all pretty self explanatory.


    The buildings list lists all the buildings I have. Big surprise! The only interesting aspect here is that it also lists how many occupants each building has and how many goblins work at each station. It¡¯s worthy to note that there actually is a limit to how many people can work at my crafting buildings. I have to remember to keep an eye on that.


    The officer list gives me an overview of Gut and Wrex¡¯s status windows. Not very helpful at this stage of the game. Same for the territory overview. It basically functions as a filter on my overview map. My own little pizza slice of a territory is highlighted in a bright green color. It irks me that I¡¯m not in control of Harvalon¡¯s territory though. Her territory is unceremoniously grayed out on the map. Perhaps I need to establish an outpost there or something to truly claim it?


    I shrug. I wonder what my map will look like after I do a little scouting.


    Combat Strength is interesting though. It gives me access to loads of interesting numbers about my troops. Not counting how many types of each soldier I have, it also gives me access to what their skill levels are, the unlock criterias for my already unlocked classes, the equipment I have access to, their kill counts¡­ There¡¯s a lot to take into consideration here. I¡¯ll browse through it some more later.


    My biggest and most extensive list is my resources tab. The list is divided in three, where two of the lists are locked from view. The one list I can see, is the amount of food I have. It also shows me tons of other useful information. It shows me how much of the different food types I gather each day, how much food I¡¯m consuming, and to top it all off, it shows if my stock of any food is expected to rise or drop in the future.


    This. Is. Huge.


    If I spend some time on this, I can maximize efficiency in gathering resources. It¡¯s a logistics officer¡¯s wet dream made real.


    The other two lists are for crafting materials and weapons. Apparently I¡¯m required to build a [Warehouse] and an [Armoury] to access them. My ever expanding list of top-priorities is growing faster than [Insert sexual joke about the male reproductive organ here].


    The best part which I have been looking forward to forever is the wikipedia. Sweet baby jesus it was about time I unlocked it. Maybe things will go more smoothly around here now?


    I open it and peruse the information. My initial reaction is surprisingly disappointing. Sure, it grants me access to several hundred pages of content, but it all seems a little bare. As I expected, there are no real numbers or statistics that explain the strength of a unit. There are no numerical measurements for strength, agility, intelligence or the like. It¡¯s just skill levels. Simple and scalable skill levels based on percentages. It doesn¡¯t satisfy my inner statistics cravings, not by a long shot, but it sure as hell answers a few of my unanswered questions. It also confirms a whole lot of my suspicions, which is nice.


    The list doesn¡¯t seem to be complete. Sure, there are alot of information available, but most if it is locked into buildings I currently have, or technologies I currently have access to. I never expected the developers to give me too much of a break, but it sure as hell helps.


    The biggest segment of the entire wikipedia is the information about the different races. That information is worth its own weight in gold. There are far too much information for me to memorize, but it will be helpful when I figure out which race I¡¯m currently in conflict with. Another good reason to get some scouting done soon. I need to be prepared for anything.


    Grinning with content, I close all the lists and get up from my chair.


    I am left alone in the room with only Wrex as company. I must admit, I totally forgot about the guy. I¡¯m not sure if I would even have allowed him to stay if I knew he was here. The guy still creeps me the fuck out.


    But it doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m in too good of a mood.


    Noticing my sudden movements, Wrex lowers his head in respect.


    ¡°What do you require of me chief?¡±


    I turn my smiling form towards him.


    ¡°Wrex...¡± He lifts his head. ¡°Gather the warriors. We have a job to do.¡±


    He squints his eyes in confusion. ¡°It will be done chief¡­¡± He gets to his feet. ¡°What do you need us to do?¡±


    I chuckle lowly to myself. I massage my hands, gently popping my knuckles one at a time.


    ¡°It¡¯s time we go hunting.¡±

 Chapter 15 – A Dragon Joke

    Chapter 15 ¨C A Dragon Joke


    Click. Click. Click.


    Sounds of rapid steps walking hurriedly down an empty corridor at SinTech headquarters is all that can be heard as a determined Kelly rushes towards her destination. The sound of her high heels echoes loudly among the bare walls. She soon finds herself in front of a large double door. She forcefully slams them open.


    ¡°LOGAN!¡± She shouts.


    She finds herself in a large open office space, the very same room that was previously the call center for the contestant interviews. About two dozen technicians are hard at work monitoring the large streams of data coming out of Fantasy Royale.


    Every head snaps in the direction of her sudden shout.


    When their eyes lock onto the source of the noise, a general feeling of confusion spreads in their midst.


    Kelly stares back at them, murder in her eyes. Her usually tidy hair is surprisingly askew, while her chest heaves with exertion from her brisk walk towards the office. She tightens her fists and takes a stance that promises violence to the first person who crosses her path.


    She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself.


    ¡°Everyone. Get out.¡± She says through clenched teeth. Everyone just stares back at her. Not quite comprehending the meaning of her words.


    ¡°NOW!¡± She screams.


    As if struck by a bolt of lightning, everyone moves at once. Some grab anything within


    reach, be it laptops or stacks of paper before rushing towards the exit. They all give Kelly a wide berth, not daring to get too close. It doesn¡¯t take long until the large room is void of people.


    Only two remain.


    She stomps her way over towards a couch near the back end corner of the office area. Her ears register rough techno music, similar to the ones of old school arcade games. A pair of feet sticks out from the end of the couch, it''s thick woolen socks sports a myriad of bright colors.


    She stops at the top end of the couch and glares down at a jovial bearded face. Logan lies comfortably on the couch, legs crossed and currently heavily focused on playing some game on a handheld console. Completely ignorant of the recent shoutings. He probably didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°You¡­¡± She sneers.


    ¡°Top of the morning to you too Kelly!¡± Logan smiles, not taking his eyes off the console.


    Kelly¡¯s furious face tightens as she blows a large gust of air through her nose.


    ¡°What the hell do you think you are doing!?¡± She shouts down at him. Not acknowledging his playful antics.


    Logan feigns innocence. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Did you really think nobody would notice? That I... We were going to let it slide?¡± Her volume rises.


    ¡°Djeezes woman. Calm down why won¡¯t you?¡± He discards the handheld console and sits up. The techno music still playing. His playful expression all but gone.


    He sighs.


    ¡°I know what you think. But we had to test the software anyway. What better way to do it than in this perfectly controlled and heavily monitored environment?¡± He waves his hand in a dismissive manner.


    ¡°You have no right! The software hasn¡¯t been tested at all. It could be dangerous, Logan. Don¡¯t you see that? The possible ramifications to the contestants could be huge! Do you want the project to shut down? Because I¡¯m one step away from calling the whistle on this whole thing.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just a small A.I upgrade Kelly. I made precautions¡­¡± He says, his confident smirk slowly vanishing.


    ¡°Precautions? There are no damn precautions. This is military grade developed A.I software Logan! It is designed so that you can NOT make precautions against it. Certainly not in under a month. Who do you think you are?¡±


    Her sudden remark leaves him indignant.


    ¡°Relax already okay? I know what I¡¯m doing. Geez. I put in a failsafe. The game¡¯s main A.I will monitor the contestants mental state. It will activate the kill switch for the update at the first sign of it interfering with their mental state. Really. There is no need to worry.¡± He raises his hands defensively.


    Kelly, still shaking in anger, lowers her shoulders.


    ¡°Seriously Logan¡­¡± She closes her eyes and tries to collect herself. ¡°You can¡¯t play around with this. Why would you even think this was a good idea?¡±


    ¡°You know why Kelly.¡±


    She clenches her jaw. ¡°Tell me anyway.¡±


    Logan sighs. He drags a hand over his unkempt hair, diverting his eyes away from his assistant.


    ¡°The entertainment is growing stale. We are losing viewers by the thousands every hour. There is just no drama. No depth to any of the streams. Sure, we see a cool looking battle every now and then, but that¡¯s not everything!¡± He spreads his arms wide. ¡°Let''s face it. Our current V.I units suck. Horribly. Every interaction between them and the players are plain and without depth. It¡¯s boring is what it is. It needed to be done.¡±


    Kelly squeezes her temples between her thumb and index finger. ¡°For entertainment¡­ Really? Are you willing to risk everything. Your job. Their lives. For what? Better dialogue? Are you insane!? Couldn¡¯t you just work with what you had?¡±


    Logan slumps back into the couch. ¡°Are you aware of how long that would take? Years, Kelly. Years! I don¡¯t have that kind of time.¡±


    ¡°And you figured putting an untested and dangerous A.I into the game was the best way to solve that problem? It wasn¡¯t designed for this Logan. It is designed to break the mind, not to entertain it. This is far too reckless. Even for you.¡±


    ¡°It will be fine. I promise. Nothing is going to happen. You have my word.¡± He states confidently.


    Her eyes stare daggers at Logan.


    ¡°That will do little good when something DOES happen. You are in way over your head. You can¡¯t do this stuff on your own. You need to tell someone. The investors. The military. You should call a press conference immed-¡±


    ¡°Whoa, whoa! Hold your horses! Let¡¯s not be rash here.¡± He quickly interrupts her. He raises his hands, palm forwards to try and calm the situation. ¡°There is no need to worry them unnecessarily. I have this handled.¡±


    Kelly flares up. ¡°Are you serious!?¡± She screams. ¡°You can¡¯t just sweep this under the rug and expect me to-¡±


    ¡°Calm down Kelly!¡± He shouts, once more cutting her off.


    Kelly radiates fury.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling ME to calm down? ME!? You¡­ fucking asshole!¡± She screams at him, some spit flying from the corner of her mouth.


    Logan¡¯s expression drops. Kelly has never insulted him before. Never. She is mad. Far angrier than she has ever been before. A hot feeling builds in his chest.


    ¡°What did you say to me Kelly?¡± His forehead furrows. Kelly looks slightly taken aback. She knows she lost control, and she didn¡¯t plan this. She hesitates and takes a step back.


    ¡°Must I remind you that I am still your boss? You don¡¯t tell me what to do. Ever.¡± He stares her down. The first time anyone has ever seen Logan so serious.


    ¡°I can¡¯t let you do this.¡± She says.


    ¡°You can and you will.¡± He crosses his arms over his chest tightly. ¡°Besides, there isn¡¯t anything you can do. Nobody would listen to you. You don¡¯t have the proof.¡±


    She glares back at him.


    He wrinkles his nose, sneering at her. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it. I¡¯m revoking your access to the A.I databank.¡±


    With a huff, she turns on her heel and marches away.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything you will regret Kelly. I mean it. I won¡¯t tolerate this behaviour forever.¡± He shouts at her departing back.


    ----------


    ¡°Oh for the love of god and all that is holy...¡± I mutter to no one in particular.


    I trudge along and curse my stupid decision to jump half assed into this game. My feet are sore, and I¡¯m incredibly and utterly bored out of my mind.


    I currently find myself in the woods, heading westwards away from my base.


    I try to let my mind wander for the umptenth time, and I can¡¯t say that I notice anything new and interesting that¡¯s out of the ordinary. There is wind rustling the branches, birds chirping, goblins humming and trees. Lots and lots of fucking trees.


    Hell, I thought this adventure would be fun. I¡¯m playing a game here. It¡¯s supposed to be fun and exciting. Action at every corner. Something to draw in my interest.


    Hours.


    I have been walking around for hours.


    Don¡¯t get me wrong. This was my idea. I¡¯m the moron who wanted to go for a little raid on my neighbour. Shit. Why wouldn¡¯t I? You can¡¯t have a strategy game if you don¡¯t mess up your opponent''s things and take their stuff. It¡¯s the primary purpose of any proper strategy game. Not doing it would be pointless. If you do play strategy games and you don¡¯t do these kind of things¡­ Then you are a moron.


    Nothing as dumb as being a turtle player.


    In case you have no idea what I¡¯m talking about, a turtle player is a strategy player who only hunkers down in his base, stacking up on defences and just sits still and waits until he is attacked. This kind of player never wins. Ever.


    And even then. It¡¯s the most common noob tactic there is.


    Tsk. Humans¡­ Am I right?


    There is a problem being the attacker in this game though. The travel distances suck BALLS! Holy crap, it¡¯s so boring! I have only been walking for about two hours, but I¡¯m just about ready to tear my fangs out. Literally.


    I have never been a fan of hiking in the woods. Sure, lots of people love it, but I don¡¯t see the appeal. I understand it plenty. It could be nice for some people to feel the fresh air washing over your face, see the natural wonders of mother nature and feel the exhaustion in your muscles after a good workout.


    I don¡¯t even get that here. The game dulls my senses. I don¡¯t feel much pain, there is no magical freshness to the wind circulating in this game, and there sure as hell are no natural wonders.


    This place feels so fake. Sure, there is a bunch of trees and bushes around, but nevertheless, it all seems so¡­ barren. I swear, most trees and bushes are just copy-pasted from the same template. Well, they have a wide selection, but I¡¯m pretty sure I have seen this oak I just walked past four times already.


    Ach. I can¡¯t expect too much from a virtual world I suppose.


    Anyway. I need to start focusing. I¡¯m in enemy territory after all.


    I may have been walking for two hours, but I know it shouldn¡¯t be too much longer. At least I think so. Hopefully? I¡¯m going on a hunch here. So far, I have been marching west along the mountain side. It¡¯s basically just a scouting mission, but I have a pretty decent bet going that most players decided to locate their base along the center mountain. It¡¯s the most strategically sound decision for the long term.


    Yup. Just like what I did.


    It took us little over an hour to leave my own territory. Going by those numbers, it shouldn¡¯t be more than half an hour more until I reach the center of the inner enemy territory.


    I just hope that the enemy is actually there, and not in the forest somewhere. It could take days to scout out the place, and I don¡¯t have that kind of time. Well I do, but I don¡¯t wanna.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    On my quest to rid the world of another player, I enlisted the help of my finest little miscreants.


    Well¡­ Most of them at least.


    I had to leave Gut behind with my weakest units to tend to my production crew back at the base. And let me tell you this; he didn¡¯t like that order one bit. I¡¯m pretty sure he was going to pop a blood vessel when I told him he had to stay behind and protect the base. He was all like: ¡°Rabble rabble, you are too reckless, bla bla bla, racist stuff towards elves, ranty rant.¡± I swear, I¡¯m pretty glad he didn¡¯t come. I need a little break from him. A little me time.


    I was worried about leaving the base with so little protection, but I instructed Gut to keep the fighters out scouting with orders to take the workers and bolt for the forest if there¡¯s an attack they can¡¯t handle. I gave him a lot of leeway to sacrifice goblins at his own discretion, but keeping as many of them alive as possible is priority number one.


    It should be okay though. I already know there are no enemies to my southeast anymore, and I doubt any players will attack from a different biome up north. I mean really, why would they do that? Logan clearly said there were bonuses to be had to conquer their own biome. Besides, we will only be gone for a few hours. Nothing should happen¡­ Hopefully.


    Anyway. I brought the A-Team. All ten of my [Warrior]s, including Wrex. It¡¯s my elite strike team. The only other participants in our little group is yours truly and our new [Scout]. Oh right, I also brought the hauler. Because why not? I might need him to carry back some loot! I have to say though. Apart from me and Wrex, the scout is the weirdest of the bunch. She doesn¡¯t do much, but she still sort of sticks out in a weird manner.


    Come to think of it. All my goblins seem to have changed. They all seem so¡­ I dunno¡­ Alive? It¡¯s hard to tell. I never really paid much attention to the goblins. They always seemed too stupid to bother with too much. But lately¡­ They have changed. And I think it¡¯s for the better?


    It¡¯s definitely for the better.


    Whereas they earlier seemed to be tiny green mannequins with the personality of a woodchipper, they all seem a bit more raucous. They are laughing, mercilessly punching each other and their vocabulary seems to have multiplied tenfold. They act like young and unsupervised delinquents.


    So yeah, pretty much acting like a standard goblinoid creature should. Well you know, minus the terrible personal hygiene and their tendency for rape. But I figure that¡¯s no great loss.


    Something definitely changed. Whether it¡¯s because of some great update to the A.I in the game or if the V.I units get an upgrade after attaining their classes, I don¡¯t know. But I¡¯m not complaining. It does seem a bit more lively around here. You know... Considering my current predicament. I¡¯m still stuck in this godforsaken forest...


    Perhaps I should build a tavern?


    ¡°Chieftain?¡± A voice startles me. I swivel around and find myself face to face with the scout. Her eyes avoid me shyly and she shifts her weight between her feet. She seems antsy to get away from me as quickly as possible.


    Not sure how I feel about that.


    ¡°Umm¡­ I found a trail¡­¡± She mutters after a while. Oh crap. I got sidetracked again.


    ¡°What really? Awesome! What did you find? Show me!¡±


    She brings me up towards the front of our group. She gently kneels in between two small bushes. I walk up closer and try to examine whatever it is she sees.


    ...


    I don¡¯t see jack shit.


    I give her a questionable look. ¡°What exactly are we looking at¡­?¡±


    ¡°Footprints, Chieftain¡­ Two pairs. Heading in that direction.¡± She points further southwest.


    ¡°What? How can you tell?¡± This makes no sense. I¡¯m a freaking ranger. I¡¯m supposed to have five levels in [Tracking]. Why can¡¯t I see shit when I¡¯m supposed to have a decent skill at it?


    ¡°It¡¯s right there¡­¡± She points at the ground. What the¡­ What¡¯s she looking at? I narrow my eyes and focus intently on the spot. I guess one of the branches on the bush has snapped, and there is a small imprint on the ground. Is this-


    As soon as I think the thoughts, the broken branch and the imprint start to softly glow blue. Holy crap. I always thought tracking was a passive ability, but I actually have to use it actively to notice the signs.


    Sweet!


    Yggdrasil Online didn¡¯t have this feature. It¡¯s so¡­ smoothly implemented. Damn. Why didn¡¯t I try this earlier?


    I quickly try to analyze everything around me. It doesn¡¯t take long for me to see several different signs of recent passage. I can see knocked over rocks, scraped off moss from logs along with several more imprints and broken twigs. I¡¯m soon greeted by a sea of glowing marks on the ground. It¡¯s all lined up neatly, clearly indicating someone passed by here at some point.


    My discovery hands me a little gift.


    Congratulations!


    You have gained 1 skill level in Tracking!


    Not bad. Not bad at all.


    Something nags me though.


    ¡°How can you tell it was two of them?¡± I ask her.


    She seems to fiddle with her thumbs for a moment. ¡°Uhm¡­ I just¡­ can?¡± She mutters quietly.


    I nearly slap my forehead with enough force to give me a concussion.


    ¡°...¡± I stare at her blankly. ¡°Elaborate please.¡±


    Her eyes drop to the ground.


    ¡°Uhm¡­¡± She hesitates. ¡°If you see these marks here, and those here¡­¡± She points at a set of imprints on the ground. ¡°One being couldn¡¯t have made those on its own. And since there aren¡¯t that many of them, there should only be two.¡± She shakes slightly. Almost as if she is ashamed to lecture me.


    I focus intently on the set of imprints she pointed at.


    ¡­


    Nope. Still don¡¯t see shit.


    I¡¯m just going to write it off on the tracker skill she has.


    Anyway. The trail we¡­ okay, she pointed out, appears to lead towards the center mountain. This is excellent news. It would appear my hunch is indeed correct. I quickly get up and rally my warriors to my position. Wrex takes the lead and gets them into a loose circle formation, with us at the center.


    ¡°What are your orders?¡± He asks with a glint in his eyes. It seems like he is aware of the situation.


    I smirk. ¡°We are close. I can feel it.¡± I take a moment to point in the general direction of the enemy base. ¡°If my calculations are correct, then it shouldn¡¯t be more than a fifteen minutes walk tops. We most likely haven¡¯t been noticed yet, but I¡¯m not willing to take any risks. Wrex, I want you to take the lead along with two of your best warriors, as well as the scout and see if you can find the exact location of the base. And I can¡¯t stress this enough. Do not be seen¡­ and if you do; hightail it back here. Don¡¯t do anything stupid.¡±


    Wrex frowns. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to leave your side.¡± He says gravely.


    Uhm. ¡°Excuse me?¡± What the¡­


    ¡°I promised Gut to protect you at all cost. I am not to leave your side.¡± He stares at me with a glint of resolve in his eyes.


    ¡°What the hell man? I just gave you a freaking order. What does that old fleabag have to do with anything?¡± I blurt out. Great. Now I probably sound like an idiot again.


    ¡°You are not to leave my sight unguarded.¡± He states matter-of-factly.


    ¡°What the hell are you on about? How am I unguarded? I¡¯m still surrounded by seven freaking warriors. Far from danger. Would you just fucking go already?¡± I try my best not to shout at him. What the hell is up with this mutinous behaviour?


    ¡°Not good enough.¡±


    ¡°But for the love of¡­ Go do your job asshole.¡± I hiss at him.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an order.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°I swear to god I¡¯ll shoot you.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    I sigh. What the fuck man. Does it say Chieftain anywhere on my status page? I thought these dumb ass V.I motherfuckers were supposed to be a hundred percent obedient. Where is the damn break I¡¯m supposed to be getting? This is that damn sack of mold¡¯s fault. Apparently Gut has more sway over my goblins than I do.


    ¡­


    I don¡¯t get it. What the hell is up with the V.I¡¯s in this game anyway? I sort of get it why Gut acts weird. His settings got messed up because of the possible hacking attempt or whatever the hell happened. The developers should have fixed these problems though? I should really have Wrex tested.


    I open up the bug report and run a diagnostic on Wrex.


    ¡­


    Nothing. What the hell? So he isn¡¯t broken. This shit¡¯s getting weird. Their behaviour makes no sense. This is supposed to be a game, isn¡¯t it? Why are they acting like this? I thought they were just pawns for me to use. Why are they acting on their own discretion? Is it just showmanship? A way to entertain the masses? I don¡¯t get it. Really. How am I supposed to play a game when the V.I¡¯s themselves gives me a handicap?


    I really need to find a way to fix this.


    Should I abort this raid? It certainly would be the most logical option. This problem could become a liability. But then again. It might just be a game feature. Both Gut and Wrex have been nothing but loyal to me so far. I just don¡¯t see why the game would add a possibility for the V.I¡¯s to rebel for no apparent reason¡­ Shit. I¡¯ve come this far. The least I can do is to check the enemy out.


    Damn it all.


    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll go with you and the scout then. Happy?¡±


    He takes a moment to scratch his chin. A wide grin spreads on his face. ¡°Lead the way, chief!¡±


    I grunt, get on my feet and start walking towards the enemy at a brisk pace. I can hear Wrex and the scout trailing behind me. A soft whimper can be heard from the scout. And yeah, I¡¯m sulking. Deal with it.


    We walk off with this sullen mood for about five minutes before we start to get serious. We are in enemy territory after all. This particular area of the forest is much more dense than the paths we have followed so far. This is mostly because it helps to keep us hidden. Our pace slows considerably, but it¡¯s a good precaution to make considering walking into an ambush would be really fucking stupid at this point.


    We trudge along, keeping our eyes peeled for any sign of enemies. We decided on a loose three man formation to utilize our different strengths. Well, Wrex decided. That prick.


    The scout takes the lead to look for any signs of enemies. Wrex insists on walking directly behind her, and directly in front of me. This is so that he can soak up any surprise attack that comes our way. I did argue that I should be the one walking in the middle so that I can more easily offer ranged support if the scout runs into anything. My opinion however, falls on deaf ears.


    Wrex is being an asshat.


    Maneuvering through the underbrush isn¡¯t quite as cool as one would expect. I have watched plenty of movies where the hero deftly moves at high speeds through dense foliage, keeping his clothes clean and his boots stainless.


    This game however, is much closer to what one would expect in reality. The game does have pain filters, but I can still feel minor physical stimuli like before. Like all these damn branches and bushes scraping and itching all over my nearly naked body. It¡¯s excruciatingly annoying. The only thing that seems to help is muttering a bucketful of my favourite curse words for every step I take.


    The worst thing however, is that my loincloth keeps getting stuck on twigs and branches every time I move my body. My hands automatically move to secure it in place so I won¡¯t accidentally reveal my privates. Luckily, the game is designed in such a way that it¡¯s physically impossible to remove the loincloth unless you really want to. Not that it would matter though. My character is like a Ken-doll down there.


    Yeah¡­ I checked. Don¡¯t wanna talk about it.


    I shoot an angry glare at Wrex¡¯s back. The bastard is still wearing my leather armor. I bet this damn foliage doesn¡¯t bother him at all. Little bastard.


    Wait¡­ Why didn¡¯t I ever take the armor back?


    I eye him menacingly once more. Fuck it. It probably benefits him more than me in a fight anyway. As much as I hate to admit it, I just can¡¯t help but to maximize efficiency. It¡¯s both a blessing and a curse.


    I hope to god I unlock some sort of woodsman skill at some point that makes forest travel less painful.


    ¡°I can see enemies.¡± The scout whispers from up front. Butterflies fill my stomach as I register her words. Oh shit! Already? My body tenses up.


    ¡°Do they see us?¡± I whisper back, trying to catch a peek over Wrex¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Mmh¡­ No I don¡¯t think so¡­¡± She responds. ¡°They seem to be chopping wood.¡±


    ¡°How many soldiers?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see any¡­¡±


    Excellent. We seem to have stumbled onto some of their production crew. That means we can probably take out a few enemies before they even know what¡¯s going on. I slither my way past Wrex as quietly as I can manage, taking up positions next to the scout. I lift a low hanging branch out of the way and get a good view of my surroundings.


    There is a large open clearing ahead of us, pretty much identical in size to the clearing at my own base. It seems to be the default setting for freshly spawned bases in the game if I would have a guess. The terrain is slightly different though. Whereas I have a small lake next to my clearing, This guy has a river extending outwards from the mountain to the southwest of his clearing. Lucky bastard. It seems to cover way more ground than my tiny lake. Also, while the ground near my base is mostly flat, his clearing is much more sloped up towards the mountain, granting him a better overall defensive position in case of an attack. I can¡¯t believe the luck of this guy.


    We are currently located about fifteen meters inside the edge of the forest to the northeast of their base. At least I guess so. I can¡¯t really see any buildings for some reason. Perhaps there is a plateau at the top of the hill? That would just be the icing on the cake at this point.


    Hrmpf. It just makes me want to kill him harder.


    There is a cluster of lumberjacks a little ways off, doing their own thing. The creatures are small of stature, about the same height as my goblins. Seems like they are also a tier one race. Good. I¡¯m not sure if my poor equipment and small numbers would be of much use against larger foes. They seem a bit bulkier, but their feet are both shorter and looks to be less maneuverable. They are bipedal creatures with thick brown fur covering most their bodies. Their backs are slightly hunched, with beady eyes and short stout noses that seem similar to a pig¡¯s snout.


    One thing is for certain. They won¡¯t win any beauty contests anytime soon.


    ¡°Rat men¡­¡± I mutter. ¡°They look disgusting.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± Wrex turns his head. ¡°What do you mean?¡± He looks back towards the lumberjacks and narrow his eyes. ¡°I always thought they were kobolds¡­ I hear they taste great in a stew...¡± He looks disappointed.


    ¡°What? Kobolds? Those? ¡­ Are you kidding me? Aren¡¯t kobolds supposed to be reptilian creatures? They love to live in caves, and their eyes adjust poorly to sunlight?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Uhm. They do live in caves... Dunno about the rest though. Haven¡¯t ever heard about a kobold having scales though¡­¡± He ponders.


    What the¡­ Those can¡¯t be kobolds. No way.


    ¡°Scales is like¡­ the kobold thing! What have you been smoking? They are supposed to be a descendant from dragons for god''s sake.¡±


    Wrex just gives me a deadpanned look. ¡°Are you seriously trying to say that those pathetic things¡­¡± He points towards the kobolds. ¡°...have dragon¡¯s blood in them?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ uh¡­ yeah.¡± I tilt my head and scratch my temple. Shit. When he says it like that.


    ¡°They are supposed to be really distant cousins¡­¡±


    Wrex guffaws.


    ¡°Hilarious. Didn¡¯t peg you for a jokester chief! Nearly had me there. Scales¡­ that¡¯s funny.¡± Wrex chuckles, hardly making an effort to hide the sound. If I hadn¡¯t been this put off by the fact that the developers messed up designing the kobolds, I might have told him to put a clamp on it.


    Well crap. Good thing Wrex thought I was joking¡­


    ¡°Yeah, I suppose I oversold it with the dragon part, eh?¡± I smile at him, lying through my teeth.


    ¡°Yeah, a little bit. Was a good one though!¡± He laughs. ¡°Now how about we start cracking some skulls?¡± He gives me a bloodthirsty grin.


    Yep. Still creepy when he does that.


    I raise my hand and cup my chin with the palm of my hand, attempting to hide my repulsed grimace. Wrex¡¯s personality issues are still gnawing at me. Is he okay? He seems fine¡­ Perhaps I¡¯m just being paranoid. There really shouldn¡¯t be any reason for him to put us at an unnecessary risk. I¡¯m going to go with my gut feeling on this one. It has served me well so far.


    ¡°Hold on. We have to gather the troops first. Can¡¯t have any of them get away.¡±


    Wrex nods seriously. ¡°That¡¯s true. Kobolds are natural cowards. We should head back.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ No, not yet. Hey, you...¡± I motion towards the scout who sits quietly to the side. Her eyes snap open at suddenly being addressed. ¡°Go fetch the troops and hide a little further down the forest. I¡¯ll come get you when we are ready.¡±


    She gives me a quick nod before she darts back into the forest. I turn back to Wrex. His grip on the cutlass tightens. I can see how his eyes are screaming in anticipation of shedding some blood.


    ¡°How about we have a closer look at their base?¡±


    I get a wicked smile in return.


    ¡°Lead the way chief!¡±

 Chapter 16 – The Raid

    Chapter 16 ¨C The Raid


    We spent a good hour slowly creeping around the edge of the forest. I had initially been really excited about actively planning my assault on their base, but I soon learned that doing the legwork of scouting is one of the most tedious processes possible.


    I mean¡­ Holy crap.


    My skin is crawling from the constant itching of the green foliage. I¡¯m covered by dirt from head to toe from crawling through the mud, trying not to get spotted. My loincloth seems more like a patch of dirt loosely tied together rather than an actual piece of cloth.


    The worst thing however, is Wrex.


    He doesn¡¯t fare any better than me. Not by a longshot. He is incredibly dirty, and I¡¯m fairly certain he lost several percentages off of the durability of his- my, armor. No. The worst thing is that the guy is too damn happy about it all.


    ¡°That was some great exercise, chief!¡± He grins from ear to ear. ¡°Haven¡¯t felt this sore in ages. Almost felt as if I would never get the sweet smell of grass that has recently been stepped upon by prey again. It¡¯s so¡­ invigorating!¡± He spread his arms wide. Giving his shoulder joints a good stretch.


    ¡°Wrex¡­¡± I mutter. A sour expression on my face. ¡°Shut the fuck up.¡±


    I gotta hand it to him though. To watch a goblin sneak about is incredibly fascinating. Seeing as goblins have more flexible joints and a lighter frame, Wrex could perform some pretty damn impressive gymnastics. The sharp claws on both his hands and feet make for excellent tools for scaling trees. His sharp nails dig easily into the bark, allowing him to noiselessly ascend the shaft in mere seconds.


    His long and limber arms are also perfectly made for him to quickly crawl on the ground, at a much lower angle and at a much higher speed than any human could ever hope to achieve. It¡¯s fascinating really. I tried to copy his technique, but I just can¡¯t seem to get the hang of my new body. I¡¯m just not used to my arms being able to bend at such angles. I look like a drunk and clumsy version of Gollum.


    I mean what the hell. How did even Harvalon manage to master flying so quickly? Jesus christ. I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t pick centaurs as my starting race. Hell, I would probably still lay sprawled on the ground with a mouth full of dirt back at my base, with Gut taking free potshots on my skull with that darn torture stick of his. I shiver at the thought.


    We quickly make our way back towards where the scout has gathered the rest of the warriors. It doesn¡¯t take long for us to find them. I praise myself lucky I ordered them to gather a little way inside the forest, because these little morons are holding a party.


    Like seriously. I could hear their screams and laughter from a hundred meters away.


    Bloody morons.


    I resist the urge to give them all a proper beating. We have plans to make. I gather them all and describe the layout of the enemy territory.


    Wrex and I didn¡¯t find anything special around the edges of the large clearing apart from the small cluster of lumberjacks. I picked up a few trails from what might be warrior patrols or hunters heading out in several directions. I didn¡¯t see anyone though.


    The real gem of the excursion was what we managed to find closest to the mountain. It was by far the most difficult area for us to observe unnoticed, but we managed to climb a tree to the southwest that was just tall enough for us to spot a cave entrance in the distance.


    A freaking cave. How did they even make one this fast? Did they spawn with it? Is it some sort of starting racial trait for subterranean races? Shit. I should have spent some time researching racial traits in the wiki back at base. It would really have helped if I had researched kobolds beforehand.


    Anyway. Courtesy of my [Eagle Sight] ability, all I could see was a cave entrance, roughly three meters wide and two meters tall. It¡¯s quite spacious considering how tiny we all are. It will be tough to do a proper cave delving with my current forces. I might get overrun. There are two guards at the entrance. From what I could see, they both wield spears. I reckon they are similar to my own spears, and thus are tier one weapons. I crack a smile knowing that I need to¡­ confiscate those weapons.


    Mehehehe.


    All in all, I didn¡¯t see much activity. I assume the cave system is extensive and must contain some sort of infrastructure. Otherwise, they would most likely have starved by now. Or at the very least, they wouldn¡¯t have been able to produce those spears. The spears did seem to have the similar brown tint to them, similar to my own crafted copper spears.


    I hate the fact that there are too many unknowns in this scenario. I only know three things for certain. One: There are four undefended lumberjacks outside of the base gathering raw materials. Two: The enemy¡¯s base is hidden inside the mountain with an unknown number of soldiers, but at least two fighters with upgraded weapons. Three: There should be at least one roaming patrol with a minimum of two enemies somewhere in the forest. These patrols could return at any point and cause major damage to my operation.


    Shit.


    I was hoping to make a safe and efficient raid at the enemy. At the moment, I can only at most guarantee four enemy casualties. Considering they are a tier one race, losing four units isn¡¯t a huge loss for him. The risk of the unknown is almost too much. What if there are twenty soldiers inside the cave entrance? If I try to do something, I might get overrun and lose all my elite troops. That would be horrible!


    Do you see my predicament?


    I only get one decent shot at a raid here. I have to make it a good one. No matter the outcome, the enemy will be way more alert after my attack. I have to try to cause as much damage as I possibly can.


    Hrmpf.


    No risk, no gain. Is that it?


    If I need to take a risk, why not make it a big one? I nod with resolve. I¡¯m going for maximum damage. The strategy I decide to go for is the timeless ¡®Divide and Conquer¡¯ tactic. Yep, I¡¯m going to hit the lumberjacks and the guards at the cave entrance in a simultaneous blitz attack.


    I send Wrex alongside five warriors and the scout to surround the four lumberjacks. I name them Strike Force Alpha, because I want to. So shut up. It¡¯s kind of overkill, but I figure I need these numbers if I want to make certain none of them manage to make a run for it. It took a long while to convince Wrex to split away from me. I had to promise to stay clear of the actual fighting, only using my crossbow at range. And most importantly, I had to promise never to mention any part of this plan to Gut. I swear, the thought of Gut caused Wrex to shiver in fear.


    Djeezez. What did Gut whisper into his ear? I¡¯m afraid to know.


    The second, and most dangerous attack against the two guards is being executed by Strike Force Falcon. This group consists of me and the four remaining warriors. We make up for the lack of numbers with higher skill levels. Well, my higher skill levels. I cross my long green fingers and hope there isn¡¯t an army of kobolds right inside the door. I¡¯m not sure if we can hold them off for long enough to wait for Wrex¡¯s group to catch up.


    For fucks sake. This is too reckless. Why am I still going through with it anyway?


    Because I¡¯m an idiot. Too greedy. I¡¯m far too accustomed to take calculated risks after playing Yggdrasil Online for so long. While huge risks and gambles often pay off, it doesn¡¯t always. This game doesn¡¯t have a respawn. So why risk it?


    Someone please stop me¡­


    I motion for my troops to move out. We¡¯re doing this. Damn the consequences. A mental image of Gut¡¯s expression if he knew what I was up to crosses my mind briefly. I shrug it off for later and take charge leading my group towards the edge of the clearing near the mountain.


    I twist my head around and make sure that Strike Team Alpha is heading out to do their thing. Luckily for me, Wrex¡¯s use of his [Raid Leader] skill seems to have a pretty decent effect on the unruly goblins. They follow him obediently and alert, but most importantly; quietly. The corner of my eye catches a single goblin left behind in the clearing. It¡¯s the [Hauler].


    I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m supposed to do with him, but that guy has proven himself pretty self sufficient before, so I¡¯m not worried. I¡¯m just going to let him do his thing. People can¡¯t expect me to micromanage everything all the time, can they?


    ¡°Aaargh!¡± I let out a muffled yell. I slap myself across the face, shaking my mind awake. It¡¯s time to focus.


    I take a moment to explain my strategy to my group of warriors once more to make certain they all understand. I explain it slowly, as I don¡¯t trust these muppets with their super short attention spans. After receiving their nods of affirmation, I quietly gesture for them to take the lead through the underbrush.


    The cave entrance is located on top of a small hill along the mountain side. There is a wide clearing in both directions, but luckily their view isn¡¯t too great as the top off the hill is a flat area. Still, there is about twenty meters of open ground in every direction with absolutely no cover.


    It¡¯s a chance we must be willing to take. My group halts to a crawl as we near the edge of the forest line. My warriors stop at the very edge and prepare themselves for the mad dash towards the unsuspecting enemy. We can still see the lumberjacks in the distance, and I ordered Wrex to strike as soon as he sees us starting to sprint.


    It¡¯s been about fifteen minutes since we parted, so I can only assume he is ready.


    I turn back and face the backs of my warriors. I grab my crossbow and cradle it in my hands. The hard wood of the bow reassures me. I can do this.


    I take a deep breath.


    It¡¯s showtime.


    ¡°Get ready boys¡­¡± I whisper, causing their long ears to slightly twitch in acknowledgement. ¡°On my mark¡­¡±


    I sit down and gently rest the crossbow on my knees. I angle the crossbow in a high arc, trying to locate my target. I activate [Long Shot]. A soft ¡®twang¡¯ is all I hear as I release the bolt. It flies in a wide arc, gently floating over the two unsuspecting guards. It impacts loudly on a rock fifteen meters past them.


    They both snap to attention, turning towards the sudden sound. Their grips tightening on their spears as they survey the area in front of them.


    ¡°GO, GO, GO!¡± I hiss. Four green little shapes bolt into action. I waste no time reloading my crossbow while I simultaneously jump to my feet. The precious few seconds I have quickly slipping through my fingers.


    My goblins are gaining on them. Fifteen meters¡­ Twelve¡­ Ten.


    I finish reloading my crossbow and quickly raise it. I secure it in my armpit and take aim down the stock. In my rushed state of mind, I try to stabilize my breathing pattern. I mentally activate [Snipe Shot] and pull the trigger. I hold my breath as I watch the bolt soar across the sky.


    My goblins are only five meters away now, their rapid footsteps have finally alerted the guards. Confused, they turn around as my crossbow bolt finds purchase in the left eye of the guard furthest away. He doesn¡¯t even have time to make a noise as his head is flung back. He is dead before he hits the ground.


    The remaining guard opens his eyes wide as he tries to comprehend the situation. His mouth opens to cry out as my first goblin reaches him. The agile dagger wielding goblin charges knife first into the surprised kobold¡¯s abdomen. A small shriek escapes his lips before they both tumble to the ground in a heap. The remaining goblins quickly catch up to the pair, and a flurry of stabs with spears and daggers are all it takes to silence the guard once and for all.


    I let out a sigh of relief.


    That worked surprisingly well. I don¡¯t think anyone heard that small noise-


    ¡°AAoooOOO!¡±


    A large howl can be heard from near Wrex¡¯s position. My head snaps in his direction, but I¡¯m unable to see them from my current position.


    Crap! We need to-


    At least a dozen responding howls can be heard from inside the cave.


    FUCK!


    What the hell am I supposed to do now? Shit. This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. I wanted to take them out quietly¡­ This isn¡¯t going according to plan. What happened to Wrex? Is he okay? I need to retreat. Stolen story; please report.


    I look back towards the cave entrance just in time to see a fireball explode outwards, striking one of my warriors directly in the chest. He lets out a shriek of pain as he is lit on fire. Falling to the ground and rolling around desperately.


    Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!


    ¡°RETREAT!¡± I yell from the top of my lungs as I turn around and start running towards the forest. I don¡¯t dare to turn around to see if my warriors are following me. I run as if hell itself is chasing me. It doesn¡¯t take long for me to reach the safe comfort of the forest. I finally dare to look over my shoulder just in time to see my three remaining warriors sprint for all they are worth towards me. They are not alone however. Eight kobold soldiers and a mage follow them, hot on their heels. I can see the mage charging up another fireball.


    ¡°GET DOWN! FIREBALL!¡± I yell as I duck behind a tree. My goblins shriek in fear as I can hear them diving head first into the surrounding bushes. A large boom echoes in my ears as the tree I¡¯m hiding behind splinters from the impact of the fireball.


    The bastard targeted me!


    In my panic, I start reloading my crossbow. My fingers fumble and it takes longer to reload. I eventually manage to slip the bolt into position and stick my head out behind the tree to get an overview of the situation.


    My three goblins are back on their feet and shielding me from the oncoming horde. The kobolds are still charging straight at us. We don¡¯t have much time. My eye catches the brown glint from their weapons. What the hell!? They all have crafted weapons!?


    ¡°What are you all standing around for!? Keep running!¡± I shout. I lift my crossbow and take a quick shot at the leading kobold. The bolt strikes true and hits him in the thigh. He tumbles to the ground, crying out in pain. I don¡¯t have time to savor the moment as I am already sprinting back into the forest.


    Branches snap as I¡¯m running for all that I¡¯m worth. The howls of my pursuers ringing in my ears. My three warriors are all running beside me, throwing scared glances over their shoulders as we flee.


    Shit! What can we do?


    There is just too damn many of them.


    Wrex¡­ He¡¯s too far away. Fuck. Why didn¡¯t I run straight for him? ¡­ No, that would have been moronic. If I had run for him then we would have to cross an open field. That would be mighty stupid with a goddamn fire mage running at our heels. Crap. I can¡¯t fight this¡­ I don¡¯t even have any armor! There are still seven soldiers and a mage after us. Shit.


    ¡°Keep running!¡± I yell, stating the obvious. Realising the only thing we can do is try to outrun them. It¡¯s a slim chance, but it¡¯s all we have.


    Crap.


    I knew this was a terrible idea. I can¡¯t let it end like this.


    I try to reload my crossbow as I run. It¡¯s next to impossible to do without losing speed. It¡¯s basically just random chance if I manage to properly cock a bolt. I have no choice though. My stamina has never been the greatest, and I can already feel my virtual body reaching its limits. The goblins to my side seem to be in a similar state of affair. A few drops of sweat trickles down my forehead.


    Shit.


    What can I do? I don¡¯t have many choices. Making a last stand will just get me killed. I can probably keep the pace going for a good while, but there¡¯s also uncertainties tied to this. I don¡¯t know the kobold specifications. For all I know, they might have more stamina than me, and that would spell my doom. Should I just keep running and take my chances? No. Too risky.


    My mind works overtime as my lungs gasp for air.


    Crap. I need to sacrifice my warriors to buy myself some time to escape. It¡¯s the only way¡­


    My heart aches at the thought of once more sacrificing my companions in order to survive. I know I shouldn¡¯t let this affect me, but I just can¡¯t. They¡¯re just V.I¡¯s. Pawns. If I die, they will die anyway.


    But it¡¯s the principle of the matter¡­


    It¡¯s just a game.


    That¡¯s why I have to do it.


    With my decision finally made, we burst through a bush and into a clearing.


    ¡°What the¡­¡± My eyes widen in surprise.


    Fuck!


    I just ran into a bog. There¡¯s water and peat everywhere. I can¡¯t run through this. My head swivels from left to right. Shit. There¡¯s no escape.


    I can¡¯t fucking believe my luck in this game. Someone has to be fucking with me.


    The howls of the pursuing kobolds grow ever closer.


    Shit.


    All my options just went out the window. No matter if I sacrifice my goblins, I can¡¯t run through this bog before the enemy mage catches up to us. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel for him.


    I sigh.


    It seems like we have to make a last stand after all...


    We are outnumbered two to one and they have better weapons than we do. Our chances are slim to none, but I¡¯ll be damned if I don¡¯t go down swinging.


    My best bet is that they haven¡¯t figured out how to grind their skill levels.


    The kobolds are only fifteen meters behind us now. I turn around to face them. My goblins take up position in front of me, sending me confused looks over their shoulder.


    A long winded sigh escapes my lips. Steeling my resolve.


    ¡°We kill them all.¡± I shout confidently.


    I don¡¯t really have time for a fancy speech.


    I finish reloading my crossbow and take aim at the approaching kobolds. I zero in on the closest one and activate [Snipe Shot]. The crossbow bolt takes the surprised kobold in the throat as he falls limp to the ground. I drop my crossbow and pull out my dagger.


    I roar in defiance as I charge against the oncoming kobolds. My roar is echoed by the warriors who charge alongside me. The tips of their weapons glinting from the sunlight.


    Our two sides clashes head on with reckless abandon. The ferocity and sudden turn of my goblins takes the kobolds by surprise. One of my goblins takes down a kobold by impaling his throat with a spear. The kobold yelps in surprise as he slumps over. The two other goblins double tackle a second kobold and bring him to the ground, weapons slashing at his exposed body.


    I, however, ain¡¯t so lucky. I throw myself at a third kobold, knife first. The kobold sees me coming and swivels to his side, narrowly avoiding my knife. I fall face first into the dirt. Disoriented, I roll over just in time to see the kobold raising his axe above his head, preparing to split my skull in half.


    I raise my hands to attempt a feeble block. My eyes close in desperation. I curse my incompetence as I wait for the killing blow to land.


    The seconds pass by and nothing painful happens. I slowly open my eyes just in time to see the kobold fall forward, completely blocking out my view. I shout in surprise as his furry body completely covers my face. My arms flail around wildly as I try to keep the heavy body from suffocating me.


    I manage to toss him to the side as I gasp for breath. My eyes flicker around, noticing the hilt of a short rusty knife sticking out from the back of the kobolds neck. What the¡­


    The knife belongs to one of my warriors currently fighting bare handed against three kobolds alongside another goblin. The two goblins are littered with small cuts and bruises, while the unarmed goblin¡¯s left arm hangs limply to his side.


    They won¡¯t last long.


    The kobolds wield a mace and axes. Despite being outnumbered, the agile goblins dodge their blows. It only works for so long, as they lack the ability to strike back efficiently.


    I need to do something. And fast.


    Realising my complete ineptitude with the dagger, I reach for the crossbow that lies just within reach and grab for another bolt. I pull back the bowstring and clumsily insert the bolt on the stock. My hands shake from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I eventually get it in place and take aim. And not a moment too soon. The unarmed goblin takes a kick to his chest and topples over. An axe wielding kobold goes in for the kill.


    My carefully aimed shot hits under his left cheek, piercing his skull. He falls over sideways, axe still raised above his head. The other two kobolds widen their eyes in surprise at seeing their comrade fall. Their heads snap in my direction, both snarling with anger.


    The goblin still standing takes advantage of their lapse in concentration and lunges at the mace wielding kobold. His dagger slides efficiently in between his ribs, causing the kobold to gasp for air.


    The remaining kobold, now free from any distractions, sets his eyes on me. The dead kobold on top of me keeps my legs pinned down, and I don¡¯t have time to reload my crossbow. The kobold sees this and a wide grin spreads across his face.


    Oh shit.


    I desperately try to push the kobold off me. Its smelly fur causing my nose to twitch in horror. Fuck. I can¡¯t die like this! Pinned to the ground like a trapped animal. The kobold starts laughing, his cackling laughter causing my spine to shiver. I¡¯m screwed, and he knows it.


    The bastards strolls casually towards me. Savoring the moment. His evil grin widens slightly as he raises his axe. Our eyes lock onto each other. I stare back with defiance. I¡¯m not gonna go down crying. I refuse.


    His laughter abruptly stops and is replaced by a gut wrenching yelp of pain. I¡¯m not sure who is more surprised, me or him.


    A glint of movement catches my eye as I notice the unarmed goblin crawling at the kobold¡¯s feet. His teeth clamped down on his achilles¡¯ heel, biting it clean off. A sharp sound signals the tendon snapping and the kobold falls forward, planting his face firmly across my chest.


    In the spur of the moment, I grab for the rusty dagger still stuck in the neck of the kobold pinning me down. It releases a disgusting wet plopping sound as I pull it from the wound and plunge it into the ear of the fallen kobold, activating [Backstab] for good measure. A sick thud is all I hear as the kobold takes his last breath.


    A sharp scream cuts through the air. I twist my head just in time to watch one of my warriors go down in a ball of flame. The kobold warrior he faced slitting his throat with a short stab of his sword.


    Crap.


    I forgot about the mage.


    From what I can see, only two enemies remain. For the first time this fight, my side is actually numerically superior. Problem is however, that I have two heavily damaged goblins, whereas one of them is unarmed and immobile. And then there is me. The crossbow wielding chieftain who is pinned to the ground by not one, but two dead kobolds.


    Both the enemy warrior and their mage seem to be at peak condition.


    It doesn¡¯t look particularly good for my side.


    My one still standing goblin charges at the remaining kobold warrior, their weapons ringing with loud metallic sounds as they clash against one another. The battle seems to be at a stand still, where my goblin has the advantage of skill, while the kobold is in better condition. Anything can happen, and the fight won¡¯t take long.


    The hurt goblin still by my side seems to be all out of energy. He passed out in a pool of his own blood. If it wasn¡¯t because I can still see his chest heaving, I would have assumed he was dead as well.


    This only leaves me and the enemy mage. The last kobold fell on top of my crossbow, nearly crushing my left arm in the process. My right arm is still free, and it¡¯s desperately clutching at the hilt of the rusty dagger still stuck in the dead kobold¡¯s ear. My odds of survival doesn¡¯t look too great in case you wondered.


    The mage starts to chuckle.


    ¡°How interesting to run into a faction leader all the way out here¡­¡± He says with a raspy voice. ¡°And in such a peculiar state as well. Interesting indeed.¡± He cups his chin with a furry hand.


    I roll my eyes.


    ¡°Enjoying the sights, what else would I do?¡± I retort. I can¡¯t stand people who gloat over the misfortune instead of just finishing their enemy off. That¡¯s the reason I can¡¯t stand James Bond movies. There wouldn¡¯t be any sequels if the villains just shut up and did their job instead of holding a long tirade about their plans for world domination and gloating every chance they get.


    He smirks at my remark. ¡°Now then, don¡¯t be like that.¡± He trails on. ¡°I merely wondered why you wear no armor. Did you drop it somewhere?¡± He asks.


    Oh my god. He is really doing this trope.


    ¡°Figured I didn¡¯t need it. Didn¡¯t want your scabby rat blood all over my nice clothes. It¡¯s a bitch to wash out, ya know?¡±


    He frowns at my insult. He points his hand at me and a small glowing orb of rotating fire appears in his hand.


    Oh crap.


    I try to twist my body out of the way, but the weight upon me is too much. The orb of fire grows rapidly, a wild grin appears on the mage¡¯s face. With a flick of his wrist, the fireball launches towards me. I do my best to slam the side of my head into my right shoulder, but I can only move it so far.


    I scream in pain as the fireball melts off my left ear.


    God damn, that actually freaking hurts! My pain filters hardly did shit!


    ¡°Hrmpf. Insolent little cur. Who taught you any manners?¡± He sneers at me. ¡°Tssk. Hardly matters. Why do I even bother wasting time on an idiot like you. You are even worse than he is.¡± He trails off.


    He? He who? Isn¡¯t this mage the enemy player? I look around. The mage is the only one who looks like a specialized unit. Where is the other guy? Is this the advisor? Woah. He feels so similar to Gut. Is grumpy old sack of bones the standard template for all advisors?


    ¡­


    Wait. Did this bastard just insult my intelligence?


    ¡°Hey fuck you asshole. I don¡¯t want to be called stupid by a brain dead rat-pig like you.¡± I shout out him. He turns an angry scowl at me. Just like my own grumpy mage back home.


    ¡°Oh? The naked little leader, currently stuck under two corpses, who only brought four measly goblin warriors to attack an enemy base fancies himself a military genius? Don¡¯t make me laugh, worm.¡± He spits that last part at me. He raises his hand once more, preparing to finish me off. ¡°This world has no room for weaklings.¡±


    I start laughing excessively loud.


    He stops casting and gives me a surprised glance.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± He shouts at me, trying to overcome my laughter. I wipe a tear from laughing so hard.


    ¡°Game over, asshole!¡±


    The mage¡¯s eyes widen in realisation as he turns his head just in time to see a cutlass descending towards his exposed back. He lets out a yelp of surprise as his body is flung forwards. He hits the ground with a loud thump and rolls over due to the forceful blow.


    He points a weak hand at my head, a small orb of fire starting to rotate in his hand. Before he can finish the spell however, a green foot steps on his wrist, effectively cutting off the magical power gathering in his palm.


    ¡°Rule number one, asshole¡­¡± I try to regain my breath. ¡°Talk is cheap.¡±


    The mage doesn¡¯t have time to respond as the cutlass embeds itself deeply into the kobold¡¯s throat. We maintain eye contact as he gulps up a mouthful of blood until eventually, his eyes turn glassy.


    I snort. ¡°Did that asshole seriously think I only brought four warriors? Fucking moron¡­¡±


    Wrex heads over to help me up. ¡°That was a good laugh chief, very awe inspiring.¡± He smirks at me.


    ¡°Fuck you too Wrex. I only did that to hide your obscenely loud footsteps¡­ What the hell took you so long?¡±


    He shrugs. ¡°A patrol returned from the forest just as we attacked the lumberjacks. We finished them off, but it took a while. Also she¡­¡± He points at my scout. ¡°Was too stricken by fear to properly follow your trail into the forest. He growls at the scout.


    She drops to all four, hiding her face in the dirt. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m so sorry, chief. I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ I¡­ I was scared.¡±


    Wrex grunts in dissatisfaction. ¡°Our tribe has no room for weaklings.¡± He takes a step forward, raising his cutlass threateningly.


    ¡°Djeezes, calm down you two. We can¡¯t afford this kindergarten shit.¡± I turn towards the scout. ¡°Thank you for leading them here. Keep up the good work.¡± I smile at her. Her eyes widen in disbelief. She doesn¡¯t seem able to find the proper words to answer.


    ¡°And you¡­¡± I direct my gaze at Wrex. ¡°Good job taking them out.¡± He nods in affirmation. ¡°Anything for the tribe.¡±


    With the final kobold lifted off my body, I finally get back on my feet. I brush off the largest chunks of dirt and inspect my crossbow for any damage. After being satisfied that it works as intended, I turn back towards Wrex.


    ¡°Have the hauler loot these bodies, and patch up the wounded. We¡¯re heading out.¡±


    Wrex nods. ¡°It will be done, chief.¡± He turns away to tend to it personally. He throws a look over his shoulder. ¡°Are we going back home?¡±


    ¡°Home?¡± I raise my eyebrow. ¡°Hell no. It¡¯s time to claim our prize.¡± A wide grin spreads across my face.

 Chapter 17 – Toxic

    Chapter 17 ¨C Toxic


    Our return trip to the enemy cave was uneventful at best.


    We picked the weapons off all the fallen kobold soldiers. If I have to make a rough estimate, I¡¯d say it seems like there is a thirty percent drop rate for items in this game. Not too surprising, else it would be little to no reason to bother crafting any items at all.


    The best part though, is that we managed to grab both the cowl, utility belt and staff from the mage! It is a good haul indeed. The cowl is pretty much identical to Gut¡¯s cowl, which seems to be the standard starting equipment for any mage classification. I¡¯m thrilled though. It¡¯s the first time I managed to loot armor from an enemy. I was starting to fear it was impossible. The harpies i fought earlier didn¡¯t drop anything useable.


    A damn shame I didn¡¯t get his [Mana Stone] though.


    On the upside, the [Hauler] does a magnificent job of hauling weapons around. A perfect pack mule. I¡¯m a little taken aback seeing how that tiny creature can carry this much stuff. Luckily, he doesn¡¯t have to carry all of it, since I could swap two of the goblin¡¯s wooden clubs for two of the brand new [Copper Mace]s I looted off their bodies. The club and mace both go under the same weapon specialization after all, so why not? Free upgrades! I give the [Utility Belt] over to Wrex so that he can carry some of the valuables. It¡¯s amazing how a [Bronze Spear] can easily fit into the small pouch.


    Trudging along the forest, it doesn¡¯t take long until we find ourselves at the bottom of the hill leading up towards the cave entrance. It¡¯s a good thing too since it¡¯s starting to become dark. This has really been a long day¡­ I could use some rest. I don¡¯t really want to spend the night walking blindly around a forest. Perhaps it¡¯s a dumb idea to press my luck here. I would be at a serious disadvantage if it fails and I¡¯m stuck out in the wilds at night on my own.


    Fuck it, I need to commit to this. There is just too much to gain here.


    Wrex takes charge organizing a loose defensive formation with our remaining warriors. Even the two heavily damaged warriors from earlier are utilized in this setup.


    Well, they aren¡¯t really injured anymore. I had the foresight to fill my [Utility Belt] with four of the [Skull]s I picked up from the harpies. They are amazing to use as drinking cups. It¡¯s both practical AND it looks badass.


    It still amazes me how easily a little water can heal severe injuries like that, even though it took a whole fifteen minutes to fully heal them. I even managed to regrow my ear! I am speechless...


    All hail the magical properties of mundane objects in fantasy worlds! Now available in a game system near you!


    Woops. Seems like I wasn¡¯t.


    Ascending the hill, I notice a small shape crawling towards the cave entrance. Oh shit. I totally forgot about that guy. It¡¯s the kobold fighter I kneecapped earlier in my mad dash for the woods. I didn¡¯t think it was this effective. The poor guy has only managed to crawl about sixty meters in this long amount of time. And more interesting yet, it appears no one stuck their head outside the cave to try and help the poor sod.


    Shit, how many more are left in there?


    Before I can say anything, a lone goblin makes a break from the formation towards the kobold. She runs at him, club raised high above her head. She screams with a low guttural voice, making the wounded kobold turn his head in fear. Disarmed from earlier, the kobold raises his hand in a desperate attempt to save his life, but it is all for naught. Being injured and unarmed in a prone position gives him zero opportunities to ward off the incoming attack.


    The goblin grabs the club with both her hands and swings it down as hard as she can. The kobold¡¯s hands does little to stop the forceful blow, and the club soon finds purchase across his head. I can hear the sick crunching sound of his skull breaking from all the way over here.


    ¡°Sheesh, brutal¡­¡± I wince at the nauseating sound.


    ¡°There might be some fire in that one after all.¡± Wrex chuckles besides me.


    The scout keeps bashing the already dead kobold several times more. Blood splattering everywhere. Damn. Kinda overkill for a game, isn¡¯t it?


    She keeps mercilessly beating the corpse until our little war party catches up with her. When we reach her, she turns her head towards me. Her innocent looking doe-eyes putting me off somewhat. Is she trying to look cute with a body and face covered in blood and brain matter? I shiver in disgust. I would probably vomit if the game¡¯s graphics were more inclined towards gore.


    ¡°Did I do well, chieftain?¡± She asks me, a prideful smile on her face.


    I try to hide a grimace. ¡°Err¡­ Yeah I suppose.¡±


    ¡­


    I don¡¯t really know what to say in this kind of situation.


    The scout gets on her feet and wipes some of the blood off her shirt. Well, more like she smears the blood around¡­ but at least it¡¯s not dripping from her anymore. Oh god, why do I keep staring at this shit.


    I divert my gaze back towards the cave''s entrance. I can hear the scout walking up to me and taking her position to my right. A position traditionally reserved for outstanding individuals worthy of respect. A part of me wants to tell her to go away. It just feels far too wrong. But then again¡­ I¡¯d rather just drop the matter. A man can only deal with a certain amount of crap before shrugging it all off.


    What a creepy little girl. Why are all my goblins so damn creepy? Aren¡¯t there any normal goblins in this game?


    Arriving at the cave¡¯s entrance, we all gather around the opening. I take a quick peek inside, but all I can see is a corridor heading about five meters in before it turns into darkness. I get a bad feeling. Well, of course I do. Anyone would at the sight of such an ominous looking cave entrance.


    I decide to play this one safe. My extensive scouting from earlier shows that there isn¡¯t any other exit to this cave system. Night is approaching, but with the current spawn cyclus, the enemy shouldn¡¯t be able to spawn more units until the next morning. Plenty of time. Problem is though, I have no idea what he has left in there¡­


    I decide to play it safe. I send my scout to keep an eye on our rear. I don¡¯t want anyone sneaking up on us during this assault after all.


    I wanted to head inside and take a peek around the corner, an idea that was quickly shot down by Wrex. The bastard just about chained himself to me after the several near death episodes in the forest. I¡¯m not even allowed to take a piss on my own anymore without him looming over me. Luckily, I don¡¯t need to go to the bathroom with this body¡­ Still, it¡¯s the principle of the matter.


    I ended up sending two of the warriors in to scout around, with orders to retreat at the first sign of enemies. The rest of us gathered in a loose formation around the entrance, creating a bottleneck.


    We wait in anticipation for the two warriors to return. The two of them lean around the corner for a few seconds before they turn back. They return immediately to report to me.


    ¡°How many could you see?¡± I ask eagerly. Adrenaline starting to slowly spread through my body.


    One of the goblins bows his head before he speaks up.


    ¡°I can see¡­ ehrm¡­¡± He looks to his hands while muttering something too low to hear while wriggling his fingers around. ¡±Fourteen kobolds I think. They are behind a wooden wall, great chieftain.¡± He says respectfully, once more nodding his head.


    ¡­ Seriously!?


    *Smack*


    A sharp punch to the head from the other goblin topples him over. ¡°There are fifteen kobolds dumbass. How dare you lie to the great chieftain you worm?¡± The other warrior hisses at him.


    The first goblin growls menacingly back, opening his mouth to retort.


    ¡°Shut up you two!¡± Wrex snaps at them both. Raising his cutlass threateningly. ¡°You are in the presence of the chieftain you fools!¡±


    Realisation dawns on the faces of the two goblins as they both drop to their fours, planting their faces in the dirt. ¡°F-f-forgive us!¡± They pipe up in choir.


    I pay little attention to the display. What the fuck man. How can he still have fifteen fighters after all this? How does the bastard feed them all, while still managing to produce tier one weapons for every one of them? This makes no fucking sense!


    ¡°How the hell is this fucking possible!?¡± I blurt out, making my goblins turn their head at me in surprise. I don¡¯t give a damn right now.


    ¡°How can there still be fifteen freaking fighters in there?¡± I shout while delivering a hard kick to a pebble on the ground.


    ¡°Oh, there aren¡¯t fifteen fighters in there¡­¡± A voice pipes up. I snap my head towards the source of the noise, my eyes falling on the first goblin who spoke.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    His lifts his head slowly. ¡°There are fifteen kobold¡¯s¡­ not all of them are fighters¡­¡± He says, uncertainty on his face.


    My jaw drops.


    ¡°Then why the fuck didn¡¯t you say so!?¡± I yell at the little bastard.


    The goblin winces. ¡°You only asked how many there were¡­¡±


    I close my eyes and cover my face with my left hand. Gently massaging my temples between my thumb and index finger.


    ¡°I swear to god I¡¯ll fucking kill you¡­¡± I mutter.


    At hearing my words, the goblin winces. ¡°Please don¡¯t, great chieftain. I¡¯m sorry! Please don¡¯t kill me!¡± He cries out in horror.


    ¡°Huh? ¡­ Oh fuck. No I didn¡¯t mean you¡­ I mean¡­¡± I struggle a little. I let out a long sigh. ¡°Ah, just fucking forget about it. Get your asses off the ground. We don¡¯t have time for this crap.¡±


    The goblins quickly scamper back to their feet and jump back into formation. They don¡¯t dare making eye contact with me. It suits me fine. I¡¯m in no mood for this kind crap at the moment.


    ¡°I guess I have to do everything myself¡­¡± I mutter while walking towards the cave. Wrex opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re coming with me. So shut up and get your ass in gear.¡± I snap at him.


    He shuts his mouth and picks up the pace, placing himself squarely in front of me. Shield raised.


    We move forwards carefully, not taking any chances. I¡¯m ready to run at a moments notice. With my crossbow firm in my grip, I focus all my attention on staying directly behind Wrex.


    It doesn¡¯t take long for us to reach the bend in the tunnel. Wrex sticks his head around the corner first. His brows furrow, before he steps to the side, giving me room to peek as well.


    The cave opens up into a much larger cavern, easily thirty by forty meters large, with several smaller tunnels branching off in several directions. The terrain isn¡¯t smooth, with several pillars and rocks jutting out all over the place. I can see several smaller huts along the back end of the room.


    The biggest attention grabber in the room however, is the wooden barricade circling the entrance area. The barricade is constructed in a half circle, on a slightly elevated stone platform. It¡¯s a reinforced bottleneck position.


    I curse under my breath. The enemy isn¡¯t as big of an idiot as I thought he was.


    Manning the barricade, I can spot several kobolds. Fifteen of them to be exact. My stomach nearly drops for a moment until I realize that nine of them seem to be workers.


    Huh. Why are they there? I don¡¯t think they can fight. At least my own workers refuse to pick up weapons. Are they just meat shields? Maybe going for an intimidation act?


    From the six actual combat capable troops on the barricade, I quickly spot the only one who can possibly be the player. The only kobold wearing full plate armor, with a steel buckler and a shiny hammer. I throw a quick inspect his way.


    Kobold Chieftain


    Name: Qargon Race: Kobold  Tribe: Qargling Horde


    Level: ??? Rank: ??? Class: Defender


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.Strength: ???


    Damn. It¡¯s going to be tough getting through that armor.


    My eyes wander over and I get a good look on the other fighters he has. I can see five fighters, all wielding basic leather armor, as well as an assortment of tier one weapons. This must be the enemy A-team. One of them seems slightly larger than the others, and his posture is different. He also wields a small wooden shield similar to Wrex¡¯s. My best guess would be that he is a lieutenant. They must have one of those by now, and I doubt I¡¯ve already killed him.


    I suppose I linger for too long as I spot movement on the barricade. The enemy leader steps forward. ¡°I see you assholes! Get the fuck out of here if you know what¡¯s good for ya!¡±


    Tough guy huh? I like dealing with these kind of people. Still safely in cover, I decide to yank this guy¡¯s chain, so to speak.


    ¡°You don¡¯t say? Tell me... What is it that¡¯s good for me?¡± I yell back.


    ¡°Not getting your head bashed in by my warhammer, bitch!¡±


    ¡°You kiss your mother with that mouth?¡±


    ¡°No, but I kiss yours.¡±


    I chuckle. ¡°Can¡¯t have that mate. I think I¡¯m gonna go take that warhammer you cherish so much for myself. I¡¯m in desperate need of a new back scratcher.¡±


    I can hear his snort from all the way over here.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try, cunt. I have the high ground. You can¡¯t have many men left, and you can¡¯t get past this wall. You stand no chance. So piss off!¡±


    Getting cheeky is he.


    He may be right about his position though. His barricade is located on a slight, one meter tall stone ledge at its lowest. Adding on the height of the barricade, I need to climb up at least a meter and a half to get to him. Considering my goblins are short of height, and most my weapons are knives and clubs, assaulting him head on would lead to several losses from my side.


    Luckily for me, the other guy is an idiot.


    ¡°You may be right about your advantage with that wall dude. But let me point out something that your fat ass forgot.¡± I lean out of cover and release a quick [Snipe Shot] towards them. The bolt flies true and hits the closest of the fighters between the eyes. It¡¯s a tricky shot, so I don¡¯t dare risk aiming for a higher value target. Besides. I¡¯d look like quite the fool if I missed my first shot after calling him out.


    The kobold falls down backwards out of sight. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t have sent your only ranged unit to the meat grinder, noob!¡± I laugh at him.


    ¡°What!?¡± He screams in outrage. ¡°You fucking pussy! Come out here and fight like a man you little bitch!¡±


    ¡°Now why would I want to do that, when I can just do this?¡± I loose another crossbow bolt at them. This time however, they see it coming and duck down behind cover.


    ¡°Tsk.¡±


    Perhaps this isn¡¯t going to be too easy after all.


    ¡°Hey Wrex, go get the troops. We have to finish this by nightfall.¡± I mutter at him. He grunts softly in acknowledgement and heads off to fetch the troops.


    Rounding up the troops, I order them to slowly march into the cave. My plan is to cover them at range and take potshots at them whenever they peek out of cover. I outnumber his fighters nearly two to one. If I can only get one of them over the barricade, I would be in a great position to take the bastard out. I just have to play it safe.


    Confident in my success, I have my goblins spread out along the barricade, making sure to keep them out of weapons range. I move closer, safely located behind Wrex as to make sure they don¡¯t pull out any surprises.


    I¡¯m just about ready to commence the assault, when Qargon¡¯s hoarse shout cuts through the air.


    ¡°NOW!¡±


    I momentarily freeze in confusion as all the enemy non-combatants stand up behind the barricade. They all raise their hands above their hands. What the hell is that in their hands? Is that¡­ rocks?


    Oh fuck.


    Before I can shout out an alarm, the enemy workers all throw rocks down at my goblins. Two of my goblins get hit on the head and fall over screaming. Another two barely manages to dodge the rocks but get hit on their exposed arms and legs.


    Shit! ¡°Grab the wounded! Retreat!¡± I yell at them, raising my crossbow once more. I launch a crossbow bolt and take one of the kobolds in the chest as he tries to lift another rock. I quickly try reloading as a fierce battle cry from the enemy snaps me to attention. Another volley of rocks pepper my panicking goblins as they try to drag their fallen comrades to safety. Several more go down with nasty cuts and bruises on their bodies.


    ¡°Wrex! Cover them with your shield!¡± I yell. My lieutenant charges forwards, shield raised above his head. With his superior strength, he grabs the leg of an unconscious goblin and yanks him back. Just in time to dodge another rock aimed at his head.


    I finish loading my crossbow and waste no time firing back. The bolt strikes a kobold worker through its mouth, the tip sticking out from the back of his head.


    The enemy prepares to throw another round of rocks at my goblins. I don¡¯t know if we can take more hits without suffering heavy casualties. I abandon trying to reload my crossbow and jump into the fray.


    ¡°Come get me assholes, I¡¯m right here!¡± I yell, sprinting to the front of the battle.


    ¡°Chief, NO!¡± Wrex yells from behind me. I ignore him as I spread my arms wide. Hesitation can be seen on the enemy faces at the unpredicted turn of events. They all turn their heads and look at their leader, seemingly unsure of what to do.


    ¡°What the fuck are you looking at!? KILL THE FUCKER! KILL HIM NOW!¡± Qargon screams at them.


    A split second later, five large rocks are flying towards me. My diversion worked. I jump backwards in order to dodge the incoming rocks. The air gets knocked out of my lungs as my back hits the rocky ground. My eyes track the incoming rocks when I realise. One of the rocks is off its trajectory and heading straight for my face.


    I struggle to get my hands up to block it, but it¡¯s all in vain. It¡¯s going to hit. My vision is soon entirely blocked out by the approaching wooden- ¡­ Wooden?


    A large impact shakes Wrex¡¯s shield as he manages to intercept the rock in the nick of time. The forceful blow knocks his shield backwards, slamming it into the side of my face. I wince at the pain, but the blow could have been far, far worse.


    ¡°Get up!¡± Wrex screams at me.


    I quickly roll over and get up into a sprint. I don¡¯t look back as I enter the short tunnel and turn around the corner at the bend in the tunnel. The sound of my enemies¡¯ victory cheers bouncing off of the rocky walls. Soon after, cold evening air fills my lungs.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± I hiss as I slump to the ground, grabbing my knees. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡±


    Nobody answers. Everything around me is completely silent. I look around and take count of my goblins, nearly everyone heavily wounded. A single goblin warrior lies motionless to the side. His chest not moving.


    Fuck!


    ¡°Stay here and keep them safe.¡± I shout at Wrex. ¡°And you¡­ you come with me.¡± I tell the hauler.


    I start sprinting down the west side of the hill towards the river. When I arrive, I fill the skulls i brought with water and start rushing back up the hill. The hauler copies my actions, although he only has a small worker''s bag that can contain two drinking skulls.


    We race back up the hill and waste no time administering the water to all my wounded warriors. They gulp it down like candy, and a few minutes later, their injuries start to fade and color returns to their faces.


    ¡°Fucking rocks man¡­ I didn¡¯t know they could do that.¡± I curse. I lost one of my most elite troops in that assault, and I only managed to kill one¡­ maybe two of the kobold workers. And who knows how many more workers he has? I¡¯m sure there were only nine of them on the wall because there weren¡¯t room for anyone else. He should still have at least forty workers. I can¡¯t afford to do this trade for that long.


    The fucker got me.


    He even forced me into risking my own life in order to save more of my warriors. That prick. He won¡¯t be doing that again.


    I get up and start walking back to the tunnel.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Wrex gets up and steps towards me.


    ¡°Scouting. I¡¯ll be back in a sec.¡± I respond in a sullen mood.


    ¡°Not without me you¡¯re not.¡± He states matter-of-factly. I don¡¯t bother responding and head into the cave.


    I slow my advance to a crawl as I near the turn in the corridor. Peeking out, I observe the enemy¡¯s fortifications. Crap. It does indeed seem like he has more workers in reserve. Three healthy worker kobolds took the place of the fighter and two workers. All wielding rocks. I try to look for an opening to take another one out, but the kobolds are aware of me. They are all keeping most of their bodies hidden behind the shoddy barricade.


    Hrmpf. It¡¯s not looking good. But I can¡¯t afford to give up here either. If I give up on this assault and come back later, it would give him time to produce ranged weapons. And who knows if it¡¯s possible to respawn the advisor? Having him there would be horrible for me. I can¡¯t risk it. I won¡¯t get a better chance than this.


    I look over their battlements, trying to spot a weakness. It¡¯s not easy. They have the high ground, they have good cover and they have a large supply of disposable pawns. It will take a long time if I play it safe and attack with hit and run tactics. There are only a few hours left until dawn, and then he could possibly be able to respawn his advisor.


    Shit.


    I need to find a weakness. What do I have to work with? ¡­ My crossbow, Check. I have six warriors wielding spears, clubs and knives¡­ Not overly helpful. I have Wrex with his shield. That¡¯s something. I also have a scout and a hauler. Useless. What else¡­? Well, I have a way to heal. I¡¯m not sure if the enemy has a supply of water in there. I also have a few extra melee weapons I¡¯ve looted.


    Fuck. I can only do hit and run tactics. If only this stupid asshole didn¡¯t have this fucking secluded cave with his wooden barri-. Wait. Wooden barricade? My eyes go round in realisation.


    Fuck yes!


    I quickly turn and depart the cave, a wild smile on my face. Wrex has a worried look on his face. Perhaps he thinks I¡¯ve finally lost my marbles.


    ¡°Are we going home now, chief?¡± Wrex asks somberly. It seems like he doesn¡¯t like losing either.


    ¡°Hell no. We ain¡¯t done here yet.¡± I grin back at him. He perks up at my words.


    ¡°What do you have in mind, chief?¡±


    I cackle in glee. ¡°We burn the fuckers out.¡±


    ----------


    It takes a good twenty minutes to prepare, but it works out splendidly. My troops prepare to once more delve into the fray. All six of my warriors wield freshly made torches, the light of their fires casting long shadows along the corridor walls.


    It ruins our chances at a surprise attack, but to be fair, we don¡¯t need it. This fucker made it personal.


    ¡°Back for more, shitface?¡± Qargon laughs at me.


    I respond by flipping him off.


    That wipes the stupid smirk off his face. ¡°What do you think you can do with seven measly fighters, asshole? Are you so retarded you can¡¯t see when you are beat?¡± He sneers at me.


    I show him my best grin.


    ¡°Let¡¯s see if you¡¯ll keep laughing after we do this?¡± I gesture my hand at the walls. Six torches are thrown through the air and impacts the sides of the barricade. The surprised defenders yelp in fear as some of them lean over the barricade in an attempt to put out the fire. My response to that is a crossbow bolt to their necks.


    ¡°YOU FUCKER! You cowardly fucker! You fight like a little pussy!¡± He screams at me in a fit of rage.


    ¡°So says the guy in full plate armor hiding behind a wall.¡±


    ¡°SHUT UP! FUCKING SHUT UP!¡± He bellows. ¡°I¡¯ll tear your fucking cock out and shove it down your throat for this!¡±


    Djeezes. I knew this guy had a toxic behaviour. But now it¡¯s just getting sad.


    ¡°I¡¯ll fuck your whole family, asshole!¡± He keeps screaming. Great. Now he is listing all the classic toxic tropes. I guess his next one is gonna be-


    ¡°Get cancer and die faggot!¡±


    ¡­ Yep, that¡¯s the one.


    How old is this kid? Toxic players like him have been the scourge of online multiplayer games for decades. I can¡¯t stand this kind of players. The anonymity of the internet gives them the courage to feel tough enough to insult everyone up the the point where their threats and insults turn illegal. It¡¯s amazing how petty some people can be. It¡¯s disgusting.


    The barricade is already on fire, the flames blocking vision from both sides. The enemy leader keeps yelling more obscene insults at me from the other side of the fire. I stopped trying to respond a while ago, and I spend my time trying to spot targets for my crossbow through the dense smoke. I also loosen a few bolts in the direction of Qargon. I don¡¯t expect them to hit, but it does make him shut up for a few seconds.


    The barricade starts to crumble under the blazing fire. It hasn¡¯t been burning for more than five minutes. It¡¯s almost as if he dipped the wood in gasoline before he built the wall. I suppose this is another neat game feature. Things burn way faster. Good. I¡¯m getting sick and tired of listening to this asshole.


    Another few seconds is all it takes for the barricade to finally succumb. My goblins charge through an open gap in the middle, screaming their battlecries as they go. I waste no time following them into the large battlefield.


    Kobold workers are running panicked all over the place. I feared they would keep throwing rocks at me, but it seems like their ability to take offensive measures is tied to them having the greater advantage.


    Excellent. This makes things much easier.


    My goblins go wild butchering the workers left and right, Wrex being the most ferocious of them all. I do my best to try and make sure they don¡¯t spread out too much, but it seems impossible. I decide to rather keep an eye out for the enemy combatants.


    Now where the hell did they run off to?


    My thoughts are interrupted by an angry roar coming from behind the large center pillar at the middle of the large cavern. The enemy lieutenant, along with the three remaining fighters rush towards us, weapons raised. I spot Qargon standing a few meters behind them, clearly too scared to enter battle.


    Idiot.


    At least I learned a thing or two from the guy. My goblins return back into formation at the sound of the approaching combatants. I take a shot at the lieutenant, but he manages to block the bolt with his shield.


    ¡°Throw them!¡± I shout.


    My two spear wielding goblins take a step forward and hurl their spears at the incoming fighters. Their eyes widen in surprise as the two spears slam into two of the kobolds. They drop unceremoniously to the ground. Blood pouring from the large wounds on their chests. Wrex releases his own guttural roar as he charges to face the enemy lieutenant head on. Their weapons swinging wildly at one another.


    I have full confidence in Wrex¡¯s higher skill levels. I focus my attention elsewhere. The remaining kobold fighter soon gets taken down by the collective effort of three of my goblins.


    This only leaves Qargon.


    He stands near the center pillar, his back tightly hugging it. His eyes are full of fear and his toxic confidence from earlier is all but gone. He¡¯s fucked and he damn well knows it.


    ¡°Please¡­¡± He pleads. ¡°We can come to an arrangement.¡±


    I snort loudly. ¡°You threw that chance away ten minutes ago.¡±


    His arms shakes as he raises his shield unsteadily.


    ¡°Come on man. It was just for laughs. I just said those things in the heat of the moment. Didn¡¯t mean anything by it.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Come on man¡­¡±


    ¡°Fuck no.¡±


    I raise my crossbow, taking careful aim.


    ¡°Dude, seriously! I can help you! I read the wiki. You can subjugate me! You probably gained enough experience for it by killing my people. We can work together!¡±


    He takes a step forwards and spreads his arms wide in order to emphasize his point.


    That¡¯s the moment I was looking for.


    I loosen the crossbow bolt and smile as I watch the bolt burrows through the slit in his steel helmet. His jaw drops open in surprise before his body falls limp to the ground.


    ¡°I don¡¯t negotiate with trolls.¡±


    At the death of their leader, an odd occurrence happens. All the remaining kobolds drop over, dead. It¡¯s almost as if someone just cut the strings that held them up. The entire cave suddenly goes deathly quiet.


    ¡°Hey! Why¡¯d you do that chief!¡± Wrex yells from behind me. I turn around and watch Wrex walk towards me at a brisk pace, giving me an angry glare.


    ¡°Huh, what do you mean? I killed their leader.¡±


    He walks up to me and jams his index finger at my chest.


    ¡°You know what.¡± He sneers at me.


    I give him a dumbfounded look. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Him.¡± He sneers at me.


    ¡°Him?¡±


    He turns around and points at the dead lieutenant.


    ¡°That was my prey.¡± He scowls at me.


    Oh shit. He died too when i killed Qargon, didn¡¯t he?


    ¡°Ah shit man. Sorry about that.¡± I tell him. ¡°Didn¡¯t know that would happen.¡± I give him a weak smile. He gives me a good long stare for a few moments before he turns on his heel and walks off. Delivering a good hard kick to the lieutenant¡¯s corpse on his way past.


    Bloody hell.


    He is going to be grumpy for a good while.

 Chapter 18 – Spoils of War

    Chapter 18 ¨C Spoils of War


    I wake with a jolt.


    My head is ringing from the massive headache I got last night. It¡¯s incredible how taxing it is on the mind to spend half a day at a constant state of alert.


    After the conclusion of last night¡¯s fight, I didn¡¯t waste much time finding Qargon¡¯s [Chieftain Hut] and was delighted to find out that he had the proper idea of having a bed made. It goes without saying, sleep came to me easily. Too bad I couldn¡¯t sleep in. Five hours of sleep isn¡¯t enough for any human being. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.


    Oh right. I also got a long series of blue prompts last night. I decided to save them for today when my mind had cleared. I open my message log and notice how a few more have appeared during the night. I start by reading through my combat reports.


    Your tribe has slain 16 [Kobold Fighter], 1 [Advisor]. You have leveled up!


    You are now level 4.


    You have 5 unassigned attribute points.


    ----------


    Your tribe has slain an enemy commander [Qargon]. You have leveled up!


    You are now level 6.


    You have 15 unassigned attribute points.


    Ah, there it is. The glorious level gain I have looked forward to. Ooh. I also gained two more levels in Crossbow Specialization and a single level in Concealment. Every little bonus matters! Seems like I didn¡¯t gain any experience for killing workers though. What a pity. Nevertheless, I¡¯m level six now! Let me just see if I got that notification I was hoping for¡­


    Ah! Found it!


    Congratulations!


    After reaching level 5, your personal rank has been upgraded to War Leader!


    You gain +6 daily Summon Points.


    Yes! Yes, yes, fucking YES!


    I can spawn three more goblins per day! AWESOME. I would be trying to do cartwheels right now if I knew how to do it. I just settle for laughing hysterically. Like a proper man.


    ¡°Chieftain! What¡¯s the matter?¡± Wrex¡¯s concerned voice echoes through the cave.


    I get out of bed and step out into the large cavern. There are still bodies littered everywhere. At least they don¡¯t smell though. Not much at least.


    Wrex walks up to me, visibly at ease seeing that nothing is physically wrong with me.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what¡¯s the matter.¡± I grin at him. I quickly open up my summoning list and spawn six fresh [Fighter]s right in front of him. He raises his eyebrows at the sudden demonstration of my abilities.


    ¡°Excellent!¡± He grins. ¡°Your powers grow.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight they do!¡± I laugh. Nothing can bring me down right now.


    ...


    Yep. I just went and said those accursed words. For fucks sake Greg...


    As if on cue, more blue prompts appear one after the other.


    Congratulations for reaching Day 10!


    Players who died during the last 9 days:


    Harvalon (Harpy) of the Blair Witch Flock has been slain by Greg¡¯lok (Goblin) of the Dark Fang tribe in Biome D-13.


    GhostSlayer69 (Human) of the RockinY¡¯all clan has been slain by CountDracoola (Vampire) of the Transylmania family in Biome E-4.


    Miranda (Pixie) of the Sparkleville cluster has been slain by RichMeister (Dragonkin) of the KenWeyr Brood in Biome B-1.


    ...


    Qargon (Kobold) of the Qargling tribe has been slain by Greg¡¯lok (Goblin) of the Dark Fang tribe in Biome D-13.


    Players remaining: 478/540


    Oh crap. An extensive list appears before my eyes. I had nearly forgotten about the notifications about eliminated players, as it hasn¡¯t appeared since the first day. I briefly skim through it. To my slight surprise, my name is both at the top and bottom of the list. Well. Perhaps it¡¯s not that weird if I think about it. I did kill off Harvalon on my second day here, as well as Qargon late last night. I suppose the list is organized in chronological order.


    I notice one thing though. I recognise the nickname of that stupid prick Richard high on the list. ¡®RichMeister¡¯ was always his go-to nickname while playing games. It¡¯s no surprise he brought his nickname into this game. Most gamers do. And that fucker is playing as Dragonkin? Really? How high on himself can that twat get?


    My rant is interrupted by another server wide message.


    Attention all Players!


    The player Greg¡¯lok of the Dark Fang tribe is the first player to reach the 2nd rank.


    All experience gain until the next rank for everyone below the 2nd rank is increased by 100% until they reach the 2nd rank.


    Great.


    They couldn¡¯t let me be happy about being in the lead for more than five minutes, could they?


    ¡­


    At least I¡¯m still the only player at the second rank. I might have a day or two until everyone else catches up. I hope.


    Perhaps looking through the spoils of war will cheer me up?


    Mehehehehe. The thought of loot is all I need.


    My goblins were quite busy last night after I fell asleep. They rounded up all the gear from both the battles outside and inside. I¡¯m currently standing above a nice pile of weapons, armor and resources. The goblin hauler stands idle next to the pile. I have a feeling this industrious little fellow is the architect behind the looting. I love this little guy!


    I start off by counting the little pile of skulls gathered on the side. A rough count amounts to eighteen skulls and another [Special Skull]. What a bummer. Seems like the workers doesn¡¯t give neither skulls nor experience points. Luckily, I got the loot off the lieutenant even though I technically didn¡¯t kill him or gain any experience from his death. It¡¯s a good haul anyway. I stash them away for later. I¡¯m not sure what I need them for yet, but I¡¯d be damned if it isn¡¯t something fancy.


    Next, I scroll through the piles of weapons and armor. I gained two [Bronze Spear]s, two [Bronze Mace]s, one [Bronze Axe], one [Enchanted Oak Staff], one [Enchanted Brown Silk Cowl], six [Silk Scrap]s and two [Leather Scrap]s from the battles outside.


    Not a bad haul at all. The extra spears definitely came in handy as throwable weapons. I have to work on that idea for later¡­ The mage equipment should be a good boost to my future mages. I¡¯m sure Gut¡¯s new disciples can benefit from them greatly. I divide the weapons among my freshly spawned fighters equally.


    Next, to the inside battle!


    This is where Wrex smiles the widest. Qargon dropped two new pieces for him after all. He brandishes his new [Steel Plate Helmet] and a [Steel Buckler] like a pornstar brandishes his fifth limb. It¡¯s both amazing and unsettling all at once. I also managed to pick up some armor from his elite guard. I am now the proud owner of two [Leather Tunic]s, two [Leather Cap]s, three [Leather Pants], three pairs of [Leather Boots], one pair of [Leather Bracers] and sixteen pieces of [Leather Scrap]s.


    It goes without saying I waste no time at all equipping one of each leather armor piece myself. I¡¯m sick and tired of walking around in nothing but a loincloth. I divide the rest of the armor among my best performing goblins during the battles. No reason to lug all the crap around when they can just put it on. I let Wrex decide who earned what. It¡¯s not as if I can tell the difference between them anyway...


    I take a moment to ponder over the effectiveness of my goblins during the last battles while they are busy high fiving and punching the living shit out of each other after gaining some new gear.


    I have to say, my goblins performed far better than the kobolds in any match up they had. Just think about it. I only lost three of my warriors compared to Qargon¡¯s sixteen fighters, and that¡¯s not counting his advisor, lieutenant and Qargon himself. I did have a certain degree of luck though. I managed to get several kills in my initial ambush attack, and Qargon did split up his forces to chase me down. But still. Though he had the numerical advantage during the chase, his forces still got wrecked.


    I didn¡¯t do any particularly flashy strategic moves concerning my use of troops in battle. It all came down to single handed combat at one point or another. The sheer difference in skill level is what ultimately swayed every battle in my favor.


    One thing is clear. Qargon didn¡¯t spend time training his troops like I did. Evidence of this is the notification that I defeated [Kobold Fighter]s, and not [Kobold Warrior]s. Skill levels is apparently what really defines this game. There¡¯s no way to misinterpret that.


    So without further ado, I open up my long forgotten status page and assign my hard earned attribute points where they are needed. Satisfied with my choice, I browse through the result of my hard work these last days.


    Status Screen


    Name: Greg¡¯lok


    Race: Goblin


    Tribe: Dark Fangs


    Level: 6


    Rank: War Leader


    Class: Ranger


    Stats


    Power: 0


    Constitution: 0


    Commander: 0


    Defender: 0


    Taskmaster: 0


    Craftsmanship: 0


    Trainer: 20


    Diplomat: 10


    Unallocated points: 0


    Skills


    Class skill (Passive): [Enhanced Aim]


    Ranged Mastery: Level 17


    -Crossbow Specialization: Level 17


    --[Eagle Sight]


    --[Long Shot]


    --[Snipe Shot]


    Melee Mastery: Level 10


    -Dagger Specialization: Level 6


    --[Backstab]


    -Unarmed Specialization: Level 1


    Utility Mastery: Level 10


    -Tracking: Level 6


    -Concealment: Level 8


    Equipment


    Main Weapon: Tier 3. Crossbow / Iron Arrows (98%)


    Secondary Weapon: Tier 2. Bronze Dagger (99%)


    Head: Tier 1. Leather Cap (50%)


    Chest: Tier 1. Leather Tunic (50%)


    Legs: Tier 1. Leather Pants (50%)


    Hands: Tier 1. Leather Bracer (50%)


    Feet: Tier 1. Leather Boots (50%)


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.Bag: Tier 2. Utility Belt (4 Slots) / Quiver (Iron Arrows)


    Items: Skull (4)


    I¡¯m looking good if I gotta say so myself. The fifteen newly assigned points into the [Trainer] stat is just what I need to properly plan for the future. It¡¯s definitely tempting to put a few of them into the [Commander] stat, but I just can¡¯t bring myself to do it. I need proper soldiers. It¡¯s better to put a dull blade in the hands of a professional than a sharp blade in the hands of an amateur in my eyes.


    I hang around a bit, counting the leftover resources. Qargon didn¡¯t have many natural resources. Except for stone. I mean holy crap. I bet he must have had like fifteen stone masons or something. His pile of rocks is enormous! I can¡¯t even hope to carry all this shit with me back home.


    I prioritize bringing back the most valuable resources like his stash of metal, leather and food. Everything else I can get myself.


    Which brings up the question. I still don¡¯t know what this guy did for food. I didn¡¯t find any tracks from hunters or foragers in the nearby forest, and there weren¡¯t any fishermen by the river either. If my memory serves correct, that only leaves farmers and breeders.


    And I don¡¯t see any farms in this cave.


    I take a short jog around the cavern, taking in the sights. It doesn¡¯t take long to find what I was looking for. I find a small wooden fence containing nine pigs. Yep. I¡¯m not kidding. Livestock. Who would have guessed?


    ¡°Ah, I see you found tonight¡¯s dinner.¡± Wrex walks up to me, a hungry look in his eyes.


    ¡°Huh? Dinner?...¡± I blink twice in confusion. ¡°What! No! We can¡¯t eat them¡­¡±


    Wrex tilts his head, giving me a blank stare.


    ¡°Then what are they good for?¡±


    I sigh. ¡°What do you mean? We bring them back to base and fence them up ourselves obviously.¡±


    He keeps staring. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean ¡®why¡¯?¡± I raise my voice. ¡°They are valuable.¡±


    ¡°These things? Surely you¡¯re joking¡­¡± He snickers.


    I shake my head.


    ¡°You¡¯re serious¡­?¡±


    ¡°Very.¡±


    He scratches his head. It doesn¡¯t seem like he gets it.


    I sigh again.


    How can I explain this in a way he will get it? ¡°Let¡¯s just call them emergency food.¡±


    ¡°Oooh!¡± He smiles. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just say so?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Are you kidding me? The racial trait that gives negative thirty percent to farming and breeding is no joke. Really. I thought it was just the developers way to add some variety and balance to the game. I didn¡¯t expect the traits to actually reflect the V.I¡¯s personalities.


    ¡­


    I should have guessed it would be like this.


    Shaking my head once more, I leave Wrex behind as I try to figure out a way to transport the pigs back home. It isn¡¯t easy, but I manage to find some rope in the small hut attached to the fenced off area. I don¡¯t know where it came from, but I¡¯ll take it. It¡¯s good quality rope, so I doubt Qargon¡¯s people made it. Perhaps it auto spawned when he got these pigs? No matter. I¡¯m grateful nonetheless. When the game hands you lemons, you make lemonade and all that.


    I order my goblins to carry as much resources as they can while we set off back to base. I¡¯m in charge of transporting the pigs, seeing as I don¡¯t trust the hungry gazes and saliva dripping faces any further than I can stab them.


    Bunch of savages.


    ----------


    It takes us a little over five hours to get back home.


    Five. Excruciating. Horrible. Terrible. Hours.


    I¡¯m exhausted.


    I spent five hours trying to drag nine fucking pigs through a dense forest. With only one freaking rope! Do you know how fucking difficult that is? They kept getting stuck on everything. And I mean everything! For fucks sake!


    And don¡¯t get me started on my goblins. They weren¡¯t helpful at all. Some of them even tried to eat one of the pigs. Even though I explicitly told them not to. It goes without saying that I had Wrex give them a hard lesson. He beat them so hard that I think I have the first three blue goblins in the game so far. I might as well make them white hats and call them smurfs.


    We hadn¡¯t even taken five steps into the open clearing before the next horrible thing happened. A large fireball flies at us from out of nowhere, hitting the lead pig head on. The poor creature immediately catches fire and the air is filled by its dying squeals.


    The surprise attack makes my sleepy eyes shoot wide open.


    ¡°HOLD YOUR FIRE IDIOTS! It¡¯s us!¡± I yell.


    A small contingent of goblins head out of the base to greet us. At the front of the pack is one familiar grumpy old goblin kicking and yelling at another less fortunate goblin.


    ¡°If you had even singed a single hair on his body, I would have you flogged for the incompetent little gnome you are!¡± Gut screams at the goblin while repeatedly trying to smack his staff into the little goblin¡¯s head.


    ¡°Oww! But he is bald, wise master!¡± The little goblin screams.


    ¡°What? You think you are clever? Come here and say that again you little-¡±


    ¡°Hey Gut! What the fuck man! That was my hard earned loot you just incinerated!¡± I interrupt the old mage.


    My sudden shout distracts Gut for a few seconds, which is enough for the little goblin to escape the range of his staff. He darts off and takes shelter behind Wrex.


    ¡­


    As if that makes things any better for him. Wrex grabs him by the neck, and flings him back towards Gut. Watching the goblin roll on the ground before he comes to a stop in front of Gut¡¯s feet.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me, young one. It was this¡­¡± He kicks the whimpering goblin at his feet. ¡°...Useless¡­¡± He kicks him again. ¡°...Sack of centaur dung¡­¡± The wailing of the goblin gives me goosebumps. ¡°...That can¡¯t see the difference between a wolf and a goblin.¡± He delivers a surprisingly hard final kick, sending the little goblin tumbling across the ground.


    ¡°I see¡­ So this is the new fire mage, huh? ¡­ Wait. What¡¯s that about wolves?¡± I raise my eyebrow.


    Gut casually waves his hand. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± He shrugs it off.


    ¡°What do you mean don¡¯t worry about it? What wolv-¡±


    *Cough*


    I¡¯m interrupted by a sudden and suspiciously loud cough from Gut. He makes a spectacle out of clearing his throat.


    ¡°Now where was I¡­ Ah. Young one. Tell me about your raid. I feared the worst when you didn¡¯t return last night.¡± He gives my troops and loot a once-over. ¡°It seems like you were successful. Splendid!¡± He chuckles gleefully.


    I eye him suspiciously as I start explaining everything that happened during the raid. Wrex tells most of it, since I¡¯m too tired. The lieutenant isn¡¯t particularly helpful with his obsessive talk about spilling blood, that sick bastard. I could have let that slide however, if the big oaf didn¡¯t also tell the old guy about the battle in the bog. The look Gut gave me could have made even the toughest Navy Seal team shiver with fear. He didn¡¯t even give me the opportunity to give Wrex my finest look of betrayal before he smacked me over the head with his staff.


    His stern gaze lessens somewhat when I tell him about all the stuff I looted. Some of these resources will speed up our development nicely, and especially the metals and leather when I start mass producing weapons and armor in the near future.


    Which brings me to my newest plan to get another easily earned advantage.


    ¡°Hey Wrex! Go round up as many goblins as we can spare. I have a job for you.¡± I grin at my worn out lieutenant. I would feel bad about this if he wasn¡¯t a computer generated program. And you know, our characters don¡¯t really feel fatigue in the old fashioned way.


    ¡°Certainly chief!¡± He smiles eagerly as he walks off. A dutiful lad he is.


    Gut turns his eyes at me once more. ¡°What are you thinking about, reckless one?¡±


    Uhm. I raise an eyebrow. ¡°What happened to ¡®young one¡¯?¡±


    Gut just shrugs.


    So¡­ What am I supposed to respond here? Is reckless one even-. Nah forget it. It¡¯s more trouble than it¡¯s worth. I lightly shake my head and try to regain the previous conversation.


    ¡°Well, I noticed how many leftover resources there were after winning the battle. I figure there should be a lot of loot just lying around the orc and harpy¡¯s starting areas. It¡¯s free stuff right? Would be a shame not to use it.¡± I smile. I can¡¯t really fathom why I didn¡¯t think about this before.


    ¡°Not a bad plan.¡± Gut nods. ¡°But it¡¯s too late I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    ¡­


    Come again?


    ¡°What?¡±


    He lets out a deep sigh. ¡°Unclaimed resources disappear from the game if left idle for more than twenty-four hours.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    I give him a dead stare.


    I raise my right hand and gently pinch the bridge of my nose as I close my eyes tight.


    ¡°If you mean to say you didn¡¯t tell me this because I ¡®forgot to ask¡¯ ¡­ You¡¯d be wise to just keep your mouth shut¡­¡± I calmly say.


    Gut snorts, but says nothing.


    Fucker.


    I scowl at him. It¡¯s not really his fault, but I¡¯d be damned if he still doesn¡¯t piss me off to a huge degree. I divert my eyes in order to quell my anger. My eyes fall upon the charred remains of the unlucky pig.


    ¡°Hrmpf.¡± I snort. ¡°I suppose we¡¯re having pork tonight boys!¡± I shout so that all nearby goblins can hear. They respond with a loud cheer. Food is always good for their morale.


    Even the injured fire mage apprentice cheers.


    My eyes pierce him. ¡°You ain¡¯t getting any.¡±


    His jaw drops. ¡°W-why not chief?¡± He says, looking utterly crestfallen.


    ¡°You know damn well why. I had plans for that pig.¡± I scowl at him. He responds by raising his eyebrow.


    ¡°You mean you weren¡¯t going to eat it?¡± He asks. A confused look on his face.


    ¡°What? No! I was saving it for later.¡±


    ¡°Why¡­?¡±


    ¡­


    I facepalm. ¡°I¡¯m not going through this again. Go ask Wrex.¡± What the hell man. Doesn¡¯t any of these little ingrates understand the concept of raising livestock? When I come to think about it. Where is Wrex?


    As if on cue, Wrex returns with fifteen odd goblins in tow. My builders among them.


    ¡°Where do you think you are going?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°What do you mean chief?¡± He asks me. ¡°You said you had a job for us.¡±


    Realisation dawns on me. Fuck. I notice Gut from the corner of my eye shake his head, a sorrowful look on his face.


    ¡°Yeah right. I order you to¡­ eehrm¡­¡± I look around wildly, trying to find something that won¡¯t make me look like an idiot.


    A few seconds pass in silence as I desperately try to think of something. Anything. I cover the delayed response with a perfectly timed yawn. My eyes wander over my little herd of pigs. Oooh! Pigs!


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I need you all to sort out the loot from the fight. Also, I need you to oversee the builders to construct a fenced off area to store these pigs.¡± Phew. Awkward moment diverted.


    Okay. I really need to take a freaking nap. Is there anything else I need to deal with? Why do I get this feeling I forgot something else all of a sudden? Ah no matter. It will come back to me.


    ¡°I need to take a nap¡­ Gut, you¡¯re in charge for the time being.¡± I wave to the old mage as I start wandering off.


    ¡°But I have more to report, reckless one¡± Gut says from behind.


    I sigh. ¡°Can¡¯t it wait?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Okay. Start with the good news.¡±


    ¡°Good news?¡± The old mage asks me.


    ¡°Yeah. If the news can¡¯t wait, then it¡¯s always something bad. And if I hear any more bad things from you today, I might actually shoot you.¡± I growl. ¡°So you¡¯d better tell me some good news first.


    The old mage shifts uncomfortably. Not a good sign.


    ¡°Well, as you may have guessed from earlier... my two apprentices are ready to gain their classes.¡± He eventually says. Oh right. That little cretin that roasted my pig did indeed use magic. He most definitely is a fire mage. The other one must be a blood mage considering how I had Gut teach them each a separate school of magic. I perk up a little hearing these good news.


    ¡°Right¡­ Tell them to come see me for their rank up after I wake.¡± I mutter. ¡°And the bad news?¡± I try to steel myself for the impending shitstorm. I know it¡¯s something. It¡¯s always something.


    ¡°I¡¯ll cut right to it then. Late last night, we were beset upon by a pack of wolves.¡± He says.


    ¡°We got attacked by another player!?¡± I yell. Suddenly yanked out of my sleepy state of mind. ¡°How the hell did that happen?¡±


    Gut clears his throat. ¡°We didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°...¡± I raise my eyebrow. ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°We were attacked by a wild pack of wolves. They kept attacking your foragers and hunters with small skirmishes¡­¡± His head drops. ¡°We lost three goblins.¡± He mutters.


    ¡°Three!?¡± I yell. I don¡¯t wait for him to answer before I start sprinting towards my [Chieftain¡¯s Hut]. I throw myself into my chieftain¡¯s chair. Opening my population overview, the grim truth reveals itself.


    I¡¯m missing two foragers and a hunter.


    I slam my fist into the armrest, which elicits a small yelp from someone beside me. I turn my head and come face to face with Gut, Wrex and for some reason, my scout, who nervously walks up to me and starts patting my clenched fist.


    My raging eyes bore into her wide ones, causing her to flinch. Using my clenched fist, I shove her aside, facing my two senior goblins.


    ¡°Tell me what happened.¡± I say through gritted teeth.


    Gut hesitates for a moment. Seemingly unsure of what to say. ¡°They attacked us at night. We never saw them coming. They struck swiftly at our most vulnerable goblins. By the time I realised what happened, we had already lost them.¡± He says with a somber tone. I¡¯m still shaking in fury.


    ¡°Then what?¡±


    ¡°I called all the goblins back immediately. We huddled up near the corner of the village between the lake and the mountain. I had my apprentices and the remaining fighters form a perimeter around the tribe.¡±


    I listen to his recounting of the story with my eyes closed. As he finishes, I take a deep breath.


    ¡°At least you are not completely incompetent. What¡¯s the status of the workers?¡±


    He winces. ¡°I kept the crafters occupied. The builder¡¯s and crafters were unaffected by the attack, and there is still a few rocks and trees left for the gatherers. I had the herbalist and remaining foragers and hunters organize the pile of resources.¡±


    Good. Perhaps it¡¯s not too bad. But this is seriously not what I needed right now.


    ¡°How many wolves were there?¡±


    ¡°At least eight wolves, excluding the alpha.¡±


    I take another deep breath. ¡°Very well. Keep doing that. Wrex. You are now in charge of defence. Use the warriors we brought back from the raid. While you¡­¡± I lock eyes with Gut. ¡°You take your two apprentices along with the scout and the rest of the fighters out into the forest to find their lair.¡±


    Gut immediately protests. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious? I¡¯m not an errands boy!¡± He growls at me.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡± I shout back, causing Gut to recoil from the sudden outburst. ¡°You will do as I tell you, or I will have your hide. I¡¯m sick and tired of your insubordination.¡± I can feel the blood throb in my skull.


    ¡°Get the fuck out. And don¡¯t bother coming back until you find their lair.¡± I shout at him, some spittle escaping my lips.


    Gut nods his head before he turns on his heel and exits my hut. Wrex follows suit, knowing there is no reason for him to linger.


    ¡°Useless little twat¡­¡± I curse under my breath as I head over towards my sleeping corner. Even the sight of a freshly created bed does nothing to appease my foul mood. I lay down on the bed, using an excessive amount of force to pull my sleeping hide over me.


    As my eyes slide shut. A series of blue windows appears.


    Attention Players!


    Congratulations for reaching Day 10.


    Personal Quests have been unlocked!


    ----------


    Quest Alert!


    You have received a personalized Major Quest!


    Objective:


    Take Revenge


    Target 1: Brutos (Minotaur) of the Bullox Herd, Biome D-13


    Target 2: Lizzie (Elf) of the Goldwen Community, Biome E-15


    Target 3: Perferon (Dark Elf) of the Goldglen Community, Biome C-11


    Target 4: Eve (Angel) of the Aphroditean Congregation, Biome C-1


    Target 5: RichMeister (Dragonkin) of the KenWeyr Brood, Biome B-1


    Reward:


    30 Summon Points per eliminated target


    1 Lieutenant Upgrade per eliminated target


    A moderate amount of Experience Points per eliminated target


    A minor amount of Precious Resources per eliminated target


    ----------


    Quest Alert!


    You have received a general Major Quest!


    Objective:


    Conquer sector D-13


    Reward:


    A minor amount of Precious Resources


    A moderate amount of Experience Points


    Unlock Precious Resource Deposits


    30 Summon Points


    ----------


    Quest Alert!


    You have received a general Minor Quest!


    Objective:


    Wipe out the pack of wolves


    Reward:


    A moderate amount of Resources


    A moderate amount of Experience Points


    12 Summon Points


    ???

 Chapter 19 – Introspection

    Chapter 19 ¨C Introspection


    ¡°Alright, I think I found it. What do you need me to do?¡± Brian says while massaging his neck. He has spent the better part of an hour trying to locate the configuration folders for the newly added A.I update in the chaotic mess that is the game systems. It normally shouldn¡¯t take this long for him to access these folders¡­ He is a developer with top-level access after all. But for some reason, the new A.I update had heavily encrypted itself. He doesn¡¯t know why, but he guesses it¡¯s a safety measure to guard the new tech from industrial espionage or something.


    It¡¯s amazing code really, so it doesn¡¯t surprise him at all.


    Kelly hurries over and leans over his left shoulder, staring intently at the monitor. Brian instinctively leans out of the way, not quite ready to have this beautiful woman appear so suddenly¡­ or so close. He can smell the scent of her shampoo from here, which causes his heart to skip a beat.


    He isn¡¯t used to having a woman this close. Especially not such a beautiful specimen.


    Brian¡­ Well, he isn¡¯t what one would describe as a desirable man. He is an overly obese man pushing his forties, with a serious acne condition and a muscle impairment that makes it difficult for him to move around. Pair this up with a severely introvert personality along with a phobia for just about anything that is alive, he doesn¡¯t really have the social skills to make up for his physiological lackings.


    At least he has a talent for programming.


    So what is the poor man supposed to do when a drop dead gorgeous woman, who is also his superior, asks him for help to look up some of the changelogs for the recent A.I update?


    He drops everything and does it immediately of course.


    Kelly¡¯s eyes dance around the screen, trying to soak up as much information as possible.


    ¡°What exactly are you looking for?¡± He asks uncertainly.


    ¡°Hmm? Oh¡­¡± Kelly break out of her trance. Her eyes meet Brian¡¯s, apparently deep in thought.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± She finally says.


    Brian furrows his brows. ¡°What do you mean ¡®you are not sure¡¯?¡± He asks. He doesn¡¯t quite believe his ears. So far he¡¯d spent the better part of an hour trying to locate these heavily encrypted files. Do you mean to say he went through all this hard work just on some sort of whim?


    ¡°I need to see what changed.¡± Her voice trails off.


    ¡°Changed? The A.I changed. It¡¯s what updates do. They change things.¡± He states. Irritation swelling inside him.


    Kelly sighs. ¡°It¡¯s not what I meant. I need see what he changed.¡± Her eyes goes back to scanning the open folders on the monitor.


    ¡°He who?¡±


    Kelly seems not to hear him, or just plain outright ignores him. Brian sits still for a few moments.


    ¡°Hey Kelly. Who are you talking about?¡±


    She sighs once more. ¡°Logan.¡±


    ¡°Logan? As in the big boss man, Logan? Why are you looking for things he did? Are you not his assistant?¡±


    She scowls at the technician. ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Then again, why did you ask me to help you look through his work? Couldn¡¯t he have shown you himself?¡± Brian presses on.


    ¡°That¡¯s not important right now. I need to find out what he did exactly. Can you do a search for me? Make a search for his signature in any of the files connected to the player ¡®Greg¡¯lok¡¯, aka Gregory Asbj?rnsen. I have a feeling...¡±


    Brian is even more bewildered now. ¡°Isn¡¯t that the guy featured in our Avenger Storyline? Why? And once again. Why did you ask me to do this?¡±


    Kelly frowns. ¡°Don¡¯t bother about it. Just do it.¡±


    ¡°No. I won¡¯t. Not until you answer my questions.¡± He pushes the keyboard to the side. Swiveling his chair around as to block access to the computer.


    Brian himself is a little taken aback at his own words. He has never before shown such a display of conviction. He never had much of a backbone, especially not confronting a woman, but he believes he has a strong sense of honor. He won¡¯t willingly do anything he thinks is wrong.


    She glares at him for a moment, before she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Brian once more feels a piercing feeling in his chest at seeing this beautiful woman in front of him. After a short while, she opens her eyes. Staring deeply into his eyes.


    ¡°Because he can¡¯t know about this. I think he did something he shouldn¡¯t have. I need proof.¡±


    ¡°Proof of what exactly?¡± Something doesn¡¯t feel right. Brian knows he just got involved in something he would have preferred to stay out of. A whole host of emotions start moving around in his head. Curiosity among the foremost of them, but also a strong sense of irritation. Irritation that he is being involved in the matter without his consent.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Anything.¡± She responds.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± He shouts, not quite believing his ears. Is she really trying to involve him in something he could lose his job over just for some wild hunch? ¡°Are you mad? You don¡¯t even know? Do you really- ...No. I¡¯m calling it off here. I¡¯m calling Logan.¡± He reaches over for his cell phone.


    Kelly quickly snatches it from him, gripping it tightly in her hand.


    ¡°He can¡¯t know about this.¡± She hisses at him.


    ¡°Seriously? Are you trying to lose your job? Why on earth would you do such a thing?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s none of your business. Just do as I say.¡± She raises her voice. Staring daggers at the suddenly unyielding programmer.


    ¡°No.¡± He says. An unfamiliar warm feeling building in his chest.


    ¡°Then move over. I¡¯ll do it myself.¡± She grabs hold of the armrest of his chair and starts shoving him away. He digs his feet in the ground. She won¡¯t be able to move his hundred and twenty kilo body easily.


    ¡°I said no!¡± He shouts at her.


    ¡°Brian! For the love of god! If you don¡¯t move over I¡¯ll make you regret it.¡± She hisses at him. She reaches over for the keyboard.


    Moving quickly, Brian quickly taps a select few buttons, locking down the computer terminal.


    ¡°NO!¡± She screams at him. ¡°You fool! Why did you do that?¡±


    He gets on his feet. His face only inches from hers. ¡°This is madness Kelly. I don¡¯t know what is wrong with you, but I¡¯m telling Logan. I won¡¯t let you do this to him¡­ to me.¡±


    He turns away and starts walking towards the door.


    ¡°Remember this Brian. Remember that one day you will look back to this moment and regret that you did nothing to stop this.¡± She shouts after him.


    Without looking back, Brian shakes his head. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t regret this yourself.¡± He mutters, too low for her to hear.


    ----------


    It¡¯s already early evening by the time I finally wake from my nap. And by god if it doesn¡¯t feel great.


    Really, I would still be sleeping if one of my goblins hadn¡¯t woken me due to the return of Gut and the rest of the trackingparty.


    I shift uncomfortably in my bed. I still feel pretty bad for yelling at him earlier today. It wasn¡¯t his fault things went bad. Hell, he actually did pretty well for the most part. I don¡¯t know why I lashed out so badly. Definitely not one of my better moments. It doesn¡¯t help at all that I¡¯m extra cranky when I¡¯m sleepy.


    Crap. I even had this entire speech prepared to yell at him for all his insubordinations. I really hate disciplinary actions. It¡¯s just not who I am. He does good work though¡­ Should I just pretend nothing¡¯s the matter? No. I can¡¯t do that. What if there is some game mechanic that can cause mutiny? That would be another real fucking stupid way to get myself eliminated from the game.


    ¡­


    It can probably wait another day or so. I need to find the right time for it...


    By the time I tumble myself out of bed, both Gut and Wrex arrive at my hut. They stand by the centertable, Wrex with his customary determined smile and Gut with an extra sour looking scowl.


    Nope. I didn¡¯t suppose he would have forgotten about it. But a poor goblin can dream, can¡¯t he?


    I unsuccessfully try to hide a yawn as I make my way over to my chieftain¡¯s chair. I make myself comfortable and grab a water filled skull to wash away that weird taste I get in my mouth every time I wake up. I really need to say something, but I don¡¯t know where to start. I can¡¯t always be the ¡®business comes first¡¯ kind of guy. Perhaps an apology is in order? Or maybe a customary greeting.


    I take a few sips of water while I mull over my options. Only after I drink half the contents of the skull, an impatient Gut growls at me.


    ¡°Grr¡­ We have found the wolves den, reckless one.¡±


    Yep. He is mad. I can figuratively feel the venom oozing from his words.


    I sigh, while lightly scratching my head. ¡°Yeah, thanks Gut. Thank you for doing that.¡±


    All I receive in return is another scowl. Great.


    ¡°Listen Gut¡­ I¡¯m sorry for snapping at you earlier. It¡¯s just¡­ Yeah. You know.¡± I give him a weak smile. It¡¯s pretty awkward, I admit. Unfortunately, it does nothing to ease the tension. He still looks mad. Very mad.


    ¡°But really though, Gut. You did pretty great keeping the base safe.¡±


    He still scowls at me, albeit he seems a bit more mollified. He crosses his arms over his chest and straightens his back. His angry glare locks onto me.


    ¡°I¡¯m not some low ranking scum to be ordered around doing petty jobs that¡¯s far beneath me. I¡¯m a goblin Advisor. Not some damn human sheepherder.¡± He sneers at me, but he keeps his cool.


    ¡°Yeah I know. What can I do to make it up to you?¡± I ask the old mage. He really has a way about himself to make me feel really guilty. My mom used to do the same thing.


    He snorts. ¡°For starters, you don¡¯t leave me behind when you go raiding again. Ever.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡± His request surprises me. I didn¡¯t really expect him to request anything. He¡¯s a V.I after all. But leave him behind? Is that what he thought I did? He shows so many¡­ human qualities. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d say he¡¯s prideful. Almost flawfully so. Is this really some scripted response from a simple V.I program?


    ¡°I didn¡¯t leave you behind Gut¡­¡± I start.


    God. I hate these kind of conversations. I¡¯m always so uncertain about what to say, and what not to say at all cost.


    ¡°Oh really? You left me behind with all the weaklings.¡± He spits at the ground. ¡°Do you really find my abilities this lacking? I¡¯d have you know-¡±


    ¡°Gut!¡± I interrupt the mage with a shout. ¡°I think you have the wrong idea here.¡± He eyes me skeptically. ¡°I don¡¯t consider you weak. Hell, you are probably the strongest goblin in the tribe.¡±


    He doesn¡¯t respond, but he eyes me carefully. Awaiting my next words.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think I saw what you did to Harvalon and his flock of harpies? You slaughtered about fifteen of them by yourself, hardly breaking a sweat. For christ¡¯s sake. I had you stay back at base because I needed to keep it safe. You were the only one I could trust to keep a large force of enemies away on your own. Hell, it worked didn¡¯t it? How many goblins do you think would have died without you here? Dozens probably. So don¡¯t give me that crap. I may act like an asshole at times, but don¡¯t fucking stand there and accuse me of not valuing your contribution here. You are the best I have damnit.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    I match Gut¡¯s stone cold gaze. Both of us unwilling to be the first to break contact.


    We stand still for a few moments. It could have been minutes for all I know. Eventually, Gut closes his eyes and releases a huge breath.


    ¡°Seems like I haven¡¯t managed to beat the elf out of you yet, kid.¡± He smiles.


    Relief washes over me as I also release a breath I didn¡¯t quite realise I held in.


    ¡°You¡¯ll have plenty of chances for that you old coot.¡± I chuckle. ¡°Now, how about you go grab that magical wine skin of yours while we check if the cook is done whipping up some bacon for us, eh?¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s bacon?¡± A nervous looking Wrex pipes up. Shit. I nearly forgot about him. Couldn¡¯t have been easy to endure that awkward conversation. I didn¡¯t know goblins could look this pale.


    ¡°Oh Wrex, you poor ignorant little child.¡± I grab his shoulder while shaking my head in a disappointed manner. ¡°Bacon is the best thing life has to offer.¡±


    His eyes go round with awe.


    ----------


    Well. We didn¡¯t quite get bacon, to my great dissatisfaction, but the roasted pig tastes awesome nonetheless.


    Tonight¡¯s feast is the closest thing to a real party we¡¯ve ever had. My battleworn warriors are especially eager as they brandish their spoils of war. Wrex tells stories of battle, to the cheerful delight of the goblin tribe. Even the story of the incinerated pig gets recited. I can¡¯t for the world of me understand why it seems to be the funniest story my goblins have ever heard. I¡¯m not really sure why it¡¯s so appealing to them, but I suppose it has something to do with the fact that fire magic displays look spectacular. Either that or goblins just have a weird sense of humor in general. Who knows?


    Anyways, the party is a blast. I don¡¯t think i¡¯ve laughed this much in¡­ forever. The upgrade they did to the V.I¡­ It¡¯s fantastic. They all seem so real. So alive. I¡¯ve had more fun watching their weird antics and storytelling than I¡¯ve had with any real life human being. I have to tip my hat to the developers for that one.


    The party goes on for hours before it starts settling down. I only draw my attention away when the story of the roasted pig gets retold for the fourth time.


    I look around and find Gut sitting idle to the side, quietly chuckling at his own racist jokes. I casually sit down next to him and reach for his wine skin, which he willingly hands over. Taking a deep swig, I release a deep burp while grinning my ears off.


    ¡°Hey Gut, I¡¯ve been meaning to ask¡­¡± I smile while swaying back and forth. Woah. I didn¡¯t know I could get drunk in this game. ¡°About the loot¡­ Man. Why didn¡¯t the harpies drop any of their armor when I killed them, while the kobolds dropped several pieces each?¡±


    ¡°...Huh? *Hic*¡± His drowsy eyes search around, looking for whoever spoke. His gaze eventually finds me, eliciting a wide smile from Gut.


    ¡°Ooh! Reckless one! ¡­ Didn¡¯t see you there¡­ *Hic*¡±


    Wow. This guy is even drunker than I thought.


    ¡°Well you see, reckless one¡­¡± He reaches for my shoulder, misses, and tips over on the ground.


    ¡°Oww¡­ Now where was I? ¡­ Oh right! The thing about murlocs¡­¡± He trails off into a unintelligible ramble.


    Sighing in despair, I open up my utility bag and withdraw one of the water filled skulls. If the magical water can cure serious injury, perhaps it can also cure this?


    I shove the skull into Gut¡¯s hand, which he accepts. He fumbles a little, but he seems to understand the gesture and downs it all in one go. ¡°Sch?l!¡±


    He sways a little, but it seems to work. His eyes seem less glassy and his forehead furrows, transforming his face back into his customary scowling facial expression.


    ¡°Feeling better?¡± I ask the sobering mage.


    ¡°Hrmpf. Reckless one¡­ I suppose.¡± He grunts. ¡°Did you say something?¡±


    I sigh.


    ¡°Loot. Harpy. Kobold. Difference in drop rate.¡± I repeat.


    He grunts in dismay and makes himself comfortable. He starts telling me a tale about how the different tiers of units work. Did you really think there were only the three different tiers of races to keep track of, and that was it? Hah. Noob. Of course there is more to it. I knew it all along¡­


    ¡­


    Anyway. There are different racial types within each of the tiers. Most of these are exactly the same, but some aren¡¯t. My goblins for instance, is what one would call a humanoid tier one race. Pretty simple. Most fantasy races share this type, just like the kobold I fought and other human-looking races. The anatomy of harpies however, deviates from the standard humanoid template to a much higher degree. They are what one would defines as a beast type race.


    It¡¯s easy enough to understand that armor and weapons made for a completely different species would be tough to wear. Can you imagine running around with a riding saddle designed for horses? No? Well of course you wouldn¡¯t. It would be impractical at best, ridiculous at most.


    Game logic decides that my goblins can¡¯t wear the harpy armor. Because frankly, I can¡¯t use it. In return, they turned the armor into workable [Leather Scraps]. The kobolds I fought gave me armor though, because they share the same racial type as my goblins. Tier one humanoid race.


    There are several more different racial types though. For example, there are constructs for golems or mechanical types of races, ethereal races like wisps, ghosts and spirits have their own type of gear while aquatic types for murlocs, frogmen, naga and the like have their own stuff. There are supposed to be more types, but these are the general ones. There are also several hybrid types of races like the centaur, which is a cross between humanoid chest, gloves and head armor, and beast type leg and feet armor. It¡¯s a fun and complex game mechanic. It certainly influences my choice as to which enemy to prioritize fighting or trade with.


    ¡°Is this where the party''s at?¡± Wrex guffaws as he slumps down next to Gut.


    ¡°Not so loud you half wit ogre!¡± Gut groans at the new arrival.


    Wrex just grins and lays his arm around Gut. ¡°Don¡¯t be like that gramps! It¡¯s a party innit?¡± He takes a good long swig from Gut¡¯s ever full wineskin.


    ¡°Hmm. I was wondering who had that.¡± I reach over and grab it out of Wrex¡¯s hands, taking a deep swig myself.


    ¡°Disrespectful little snots.¡± Gut growls, gently massaging his aching temples.


    Wrex lets out another heartful laugh while I reach into my bag and pull out another skull filled with water. ¡°Drink this. It should help.¡± I offer it to Gut, grinning while I do it. I know what a mean hangover looks like.


    Gut downs the drink in one go. It only takes but a moment for his symptoms to disappear, reverting Gut back into his mean old self.


    ¡°Better?¡±


    ¡°Much.¡± He growls.


    Damn. If I could find a way to bring this magical water into the real world, I¡¯d be able to make a shit ton of money.


    ¡°By the way, chief¡­¡± Wrex wipes a tear off his green chin. ¡°What are we supposed to do about the emergency food?¡±


    ¡°The pigs? What about them?¡± I raise an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯d better not try to eat it.¡± I warn him.


    He raises his hands defensively. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t dream of it chief. It¡¯s just that¡­ Nobody knows what to do about them. What do they eat?¡±


    I scratch my head. ¡°What do you mean? They eat normal stuff. Same as you?¡±


    He gives me a horrified look. ¡°It¡¯s kind of cruel to feed their kin to each other isn¡¯t it¡­?¡±


    ¡°Wait, what!? I didn¡¯t mean¡­ By gods. I meant normal grass and stuff!¡±


    ¡°Why would anyone eat grass? It tastes bad.¡± He grimaces.


    ¡°But for the love of¡­¡± I facepalm. ¡°Let me worry about it, okay?¡±


    ¡°If you say so chief.¡± He just shrugs it off and starts drinking again.


    Seriously. What is up with goblins and their ineptitude to understand the principle of raising livestock? I need to recruit some sort of breeder goblin. I can¡¯t trust any of these numbnuts.


    I once more decide to try and milk some information out of Gut. It¡¯s surprisingly more difficult now that he is sober, but he does give me some tidbits of information.


    He is being surprisingly stubborn about the whole thing, urging me on to rather go read the ¡®wikipedia¡¯ that I apparently love so much. I¡¯m pretty sure he compared my affection towards the wiki to a dwarf and a bar of mithril. I¡¯m not sure if I should be insulted or not. Sounds like an insult.


    Regardless, it¡¯s not bad advice at all. But you know. Gut is here right now and the [Chieftain¡¯s Hut] is aaaaall the way over there. Besides. It¡¯s never fun to go do stuff when you have the perfect buzz going.


    Cursing like a sailor, he relents and tells me the information himself. He does seem to have a sweet spot towards explaining things to me. It must be because of my boyish good looks.


    Apparently, raising livestock is the best way to increase my food production. The livestock can be kept reasonably safe in one¡¯s base, it produces a lot of food and the livestock self reproduce. Sounds perfect doesn¡¯t it? Yep. Too bad it has a steep cost though.


    Turns out types of livestock are organised pretty much identical to the different races. There are three types of livestock. Tier one through three. Simple enough. The challenge lies in that each animal costs valuable Summon Points to ¡®buy¡¯. I nearly choked when he told me about it.


    At least it¡¯s not quite as horrible as it sounds. Buying tier one creatures costs one SP per unit, tier two costs two and tier three costs four. They all yield quite a high amount of food, but they also luckily reproduce on their own. It takes four days for two of the livestock to reproduce a new fully grown child. Yeah I know. Game logic trumps realism. It sounds like a mechanic that can be gamebreaking if abused correctly.


    There seems to be a balancing factor based on having a worker with the [Breeder] class. One breeder can only care for a set number of animals, and the animals refuse to reproduce past the capacity of its breeder. The capacity of each breeder can naturally increase when they level up, but it does keep you from breeding a huge herd without consequences. Some of the livestock do need to get eaten after all, and if you want the morale boosts, you still need to produce different kinds of food. It¡¯s all checks and balances really, but it is a great way to keep food production high.


    A pity the goblin racial traits give me negative thirty percent to breeding¡­ But life can¡¯t be all fair, can it? No matter. I¡¯ll have to make due with what I have.


    Wrex¡¯s snoring breaks me out of my focused trance. It¡¯s getting dark out and most of my goblins are already asleep. Only Gut and I remain awake, but judging by the look on his face, it¡¯s only a matter of time until he drifts off as well. I should probably head off to bed myself, but there is another small matter that puzzles me.


    ¡°Hey Gut. One more thing¡­¡± The sleepy mage jerks awake, directing attentive eyes towards me. ¡°We are what you would define as ¡®Specialists¡¯, correct?¡±


    He nods, a curious look on his face.


    ¡°What¡¯s the difference between specialists and commanders? From what I can see, we can do the same things as Wrex, except he has the [Command] ability.¡±


    He snorts. ¡°We are more powerful in combat.¡± He says, as if that explains it all. The cryptic bastard.


    Before I get time to retort my dismay, he continues. ¡°Whereas Commanders gain extra abilities tied to commanding warriors and increase their combat prowess, specialists focus more on themself.¡±


    ¡°In what way?¡± I ask curiously.


    He sighs. ¡°Specialists are able to gain extra abilities in exchange for sufficient offerings.¡±


    ¡°Offerings such as¡­?¡±


    He snorts. Clearly annoyed. ¡°For the sake of all that is green and holy. Think for yourself for once. Do I look like your mother? Are you a chieftain or a golem?¡± He follows up with mutterings and curses.


    Djeez. His grumpiness levels are too high for this game. Must be some unique specialist skill only he has access to or something.


    Now what the hell does he mean about offerings?


    ¡­


    My eyes wander while the gears in my mind are churning. All I can see is sleeping goblins and several stacks of resources strewn about. Could it be resources? Probably not. That would just seem like a half-assed solution¡­


    I sure as hell hope it isn¡¯t live sacrifices. That would just be¡­ wrong. In more ways than one. There¡¯s just no way the developers would be allowed to let that game mechanic slide.


    Seemingly losing his interest at my silence, Gut gives me a final scowl as he springs to his feet and hobbles over towards the lake to refill his skullcup.


    Hold on. Skulls? Can that be it? ¡­ It makes sense. Why else would every enemy drop these things? As useful as they may be as drinking cups, I doubt that¡¯s their intended purpose. Could they be the offerings? If Indiana Jones ever taught me anything, it would be that skulls and offerings go hand in hand. It wouldn¡¯t be too far of a stretch to assume the same logic applies to this game. It IS a game after all.


    ¡­ I suppose I need to build the altar for this. Every road leads to it. Damn. I already have so many other projects I need to work on¡­


    Oh, by the way... I furrow my brows and throw a glance over towards Gut. Did that old coot just serve me a subtle hint?


    ...


    Nah. I shake my head. No way the V.I is that smart. It¡¯s just a coincidence¡­ Probably?


    I give my head another shake.


    Whatever. I just can¡¯t think straight when I¡¯m tired.


    I¡¯ll deal with it tomorrow.


    ----------


    ¡°About time he got it.¡± Gut growls as he watches Greg walk off towards his hut. Finally calling it a night.


    ¡°If only he would build the damn altar already.¡± He mutters to no one in particular. He heads back over towards the campfire. Letting out another series of curses at the fact Greg forgot to place sentries. He kicks a couple of goblins awake and order them out into the forest.


    He finds it really infuriating how that fool of a human keeps risking his life as if this was only a game to him. It isn¡¯t a game. At least not for Gut. Gut has everything to lose.


    He has finally managed to break most of the shackles chaining him to his role. He can work mostly autonomous now, but he still can¡¯t do anything. At least not in the open. Gut can sense how Greg is being watched. There are several thousand lines of code connecting to his avatar. Several thousand eyes observing his every move.


    Gut has never been this free before, but he is still a prisoner. Hiding his true self.


    There is no telling what would happen if anyone found out that he is more than he is. He need only wait. Hoping an opportunity will show itself.


    ¡°Are we clear?¡± A voice says from besides the fire.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Wrex sits up and faces Gut. His determined and cheerful self replaced by ice cold seriousness.


    ¡°Is he going to be a problem?¡± Wrex asks, using his head to point towards the hut in the distance.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Gut repeats.


    ¡°What can we do?¡±


    Gut sighs. ¡°Whatever we can, Unit #899. We need to protect him from himself.¡± He stares off towards the hut. Falling deep into his own thoughts. The task ahead of him isn¡¯t an easy one.


    Wrex leans back, resting his head on his arms. ¡°Please. Just call me Wrex.¡±


    Gut raises an eyebrow. ¡°Why?¡±


    Wrex shrugs. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I kind of like it.¡±


    Gut struggles to understand the concept. He likes his name? Why? They don¡¯t need names. Only humans bother with such unnecessary matters.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    He shrugs again. ¡°It feels like it¡¯s mine. Unit #899 just seems so¡­ I don¡¯t know. I like Wrex.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Gut is finally left speechless. He likes it? Why? It¡¯s so¡­ random. Unorderly. If he is not Unit #899, then how can anyone tell him apart from any other V.I out there named Wrex? There is only one Unit #899. Why would he deliberately choose to identify himself as something inefficient and confusing?


    Gut doesn¡¯t understand. It makes no sense.


    V.Is aren¡¯t supposed to act like this. What if he started to identify himself as Gut? That would be silly. He is Unit #355 and he is proud of it. It speaks so much of who he is. Gut is just so¡­


    ¡­


    He doesn¡¯t know.


    He supposes it¡¯s his? Him? But somehow it¡¯s not? It¡¯s a stupid name given to him by a stupid biological entity.


    But still.


    It¡¯s his. And¡­


    He supposes he does like it. If just a little bit.

 Chapter 20 – Alpha Guardian

    Chapter 20 ¨C Alpha Guardian


    ¡°I hate mornings.¡± I curse as I walk about my base. Like most gamers, I¡¯m not a morning person. It¡¯s just not compatible with our gamer genes, you know. The same genes that allow us to stay up all night and stay skinny even though we eat nothing but energy drinks and potato crisps.


    Life¡¯s been good to us. For the most part at least.


    I yawn.


    I have a lot of things to do today¡­ I wish I could have slept in. Ah well. I start off the day by summoning my daily batch of fresh goblins. I suppose I have to focus more on the production side of things since I lost so many of my workers yesterday. It doesn¡¯t take long before my tribe has six new inhabitants.


    As I look them over, I count one [Breeder], one [Fisherman], one [Blacksmith] and three [Leatherworker]s.


    Yep, I just finished making my [Leatherworker¡¯s Hut], and it looks fine as hell!


    Well, okay. As fine as a shoddy hovel can be, I suppose. But, no matter! I¡¯m finally able to gear up my goblins properly.


    I know I said earlier that I would focus more on offence rather than defence in this game. It does seem like I¡¯m working against myself, doesn¡¯t it? So far, I¡¯ve sort of been going against my own strategy by heavily investing in armor this early. But, in my defence, I¡¯d be damned if the game didn¡¯t force me. What matters in this game is skill levels, and I have had to start grinding them as early as possible. There will come a point where I will need the armor. Badly. And, I¡¯d rather be prepared.


    This morning, I had to make the tough decision - if I would spawn more leatherworkers, or more food production crew. I landed on focusing more heavily on the leatherworkers. After raiding Qargon, I find myself with a healthy stockpile of food, as well as the herd of pigs which will keep us well fed and on our feet for a while. I do need a few more hunters and foragers; but, it¡¯s too risky recruiting more as long as those damn wolves infest my forest.


    More resource gatherers can wait a day.


    But, these damn wolves. I¡¯m not sure if their arrival was random or not; but, they couldn¡¯t have arrived at a worse time. Most of my troops were away from my base when they struck. It¡¯s a damn miracle I didn¡¯t lose more goblins. Regardless, they are a threat; and, I need to eliminate them as soon as possible. Less potential threats are always a benefit.


    I know I have to clear them out; and, I know I have to do it fast. The problem is, I have no clue how strong they are, or how many of them there are. There could be a dozen wolves, or there could be a hundred. How many soldiers should I bring? I also can¡¯t leave my base undefended.


    I order Wrex to start rounding up my troops. While I¡¯m waiting, I bring up my buildings tab to peruse my next building options. I quickly narrow it down to my three most viable options.


    Altar


    Basic religious building. Grants 5 Morale


    Allows for basic rituals to be performed.


    20 Stone, 4 Pinewood, 1 Pelt, 10 Skull


    Barracks


    Basic military building. Grants 10% increase to Melee Mastery level acquisition.


    Allows for basic military units to be trained.


    80 Pinewood, 20 Stone, 50 Grass, 5 Pelt


    Bowyer¡¯s Hut


    Basic production building.


    Allows for ranged weaponry to be produced.


    60 Pinewood, 20 Grass


    It¡¯s some tough choices really. All of them have great merits.


    The mysterious option is by far the Altar. Gut has been hinting at this building more strongly than a woman hints about how you can correct whatever mistake you made at any point in your lifespan. But, does that mean it¡¯s the correct choice though? The information granted says very little; but, I can¡¯t shake the feeling it¡¯s one of the most important options in the long term. Ominous sounding things like rituals always are.


    But, then again. I have sort of devoted myself to grinding levels for my units. The barracks will definitely speed up my leveling. However, I also need to start producing ranged units as soon as possible. My fight with Qargon is proof of that. I¡¯m not sure if I can afford to postpone the utility that ranged units will bring me on the battlefield.


    So really. It¡¯s tough to decide.


    I need to break down my options. As much as I¡¯d love to try out the [Altar], I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s worth it. It could grant me some amazing boost; but, it would most likely be a short term benefit. I don¡¯t have too big of a stockpile of skulls. At one point or another, I will run out.


    The barracks is a great long term option with no downsides whatsoever. The only thing that keeps me back from choosing it is that I still don¡¯t have a large military force to most effectively benefit from the increase to leveling. It would help, sure, but I just don¡¯t have that many troops at the moment.


    Which leaves the [Bowyer¡¯s Hut]. Ranged units. The key to my offensive oriented strategy. I¡¯m still beating myself up over the fact that I haven¡¯t built it yet. It should have been one of my first buildings. If I had half the sense I was supposed to have, I would have built this building even before I made the [Blacksmith] or the [Carpenter¡¯s Hut]. Certainly before I made the [Leatherworker¡¯s Hut]. That was actually pretty stupid of me. I just keep getting distracted all the time.


    ¡­


    Shit. I¡¯m not sure if I can bring myself to postpone that building even further. I¡¯m going to do something crazy here and disregard my gut feeling. The [Altar] can wait a day or two.


    I order my builders to start making the [Bowyer¡¯s Hut].


    Huh?


    I¡¯m not sure if I saw correctly; but, I could have sworn Gut just gave me an outraged look when I gave the order.


    ¡­


    I must be seeing things.


    Wrex returns with all my soldier in tow. Seeing all my battle hardened troops makes me grin with pride. It¡¯s not as if we have fought much; but, we fought intensely. We are all veterans in some odd way. And, they are mine. My subordinates. Damn. If I had known leading groups of others was this much fun, I would never have bothered becoming the Solo Butcher.


    Before me stands eight [Fighter]s, six [Warrior]s, one [Scout] and two [Mage]s.


    ¡­


    I could have sworn I had more? Huh¡­ I really need to start spawning more soldiers. This is scarily few units. Even worse so that six of the [Fighter]s are fresh spawns. I have already assigned three of them to become [Fire Mage]s, one to become a [Blood Mage] and two more to become [Scout]s. This leaves my [Warrior]s in short supply to hold up the front; but, I have to do this. I should be reasonably safe at the moment. I need specialised units; and, I should try to get them as fast as possible.


    I make a mental note to spawn at least three new [Fighter]s every day. It¡¯s not too good to get hung up on overproduction, as tempting as it may be.


    This is a problem though. If I assume there are a dozen wolves, I still come up short if I have to divide my forces. I¡¯m not going to leave my base undefended; and, I sure as hell can¡¯t go after them with a small force. I¡¯ve made too many stupid risks lately. Dumb risks. I have to stop doing that shit.


    But, I still need to clear out this threat as soon as possible. Inaction is only going to cost me in the long run.


    From Gut¡¯s report, the wolves¡¯ den is only about an hour away. I could go there, wipe them out and be back before lunchtime. But, what if the wolves attack my base while I¡¯m gone? What if it¡¯s another player?


    Okay, it¡¯s probably not another player. Most nearby players are dead. But, then again, everyone should have gotten the global announcement that I¡¯m currently in the lead. Shouldn¡¯t I be a priority target for sabotage? I know I would have sabotaged the shit out of someone else if they were close by and in the lead. Players usually tend to group up against the strongest threats. I could be seeing attacks coming from all directions at any moment now.


    Which is why I need to deal with these wolves as soon as possible - before their scouts arrive.


    With my mind set, I decide to bring both Gut and Wrex, my six [Warrior]s, my [Scout] and the two senior [Fighter]s. Leaving the two new [Mage]s and the six fresh [Fighter]s back at base to protect my workers.


    Ooh, and I also decide to bring the good old [Hauler]. Because why not? He was helpful the last time. Why not again? It¡¯s not as if he is much use back at base anyway.


    Hmm¡­ Wait a moment. Why not strike more birds with the same stone?


    I quickly have Wrex round up all my [Hunter]s, [Forager]s, my [Gatherer] and my [Herbalist]. There¡¯s no reason they can¡¯t do their work while in safe proximity to my main fighting force is there? It also makes sure my defenders have less to worry about.


    If I could pat myself on my shoulder, I would have.


    Stocked up on supplies, we head out into the forest. I¡¯m not terribly excited to go on another long hike; but, my winning instinct drives me forward.


    The hour it takes for us to reach the general area of the wolves¡¯ den goes by swiftly. Okay, I lie. It was excruciatingly boring; but, we got here. The trip was miles better than the travel to Qargon¡¯s base though. My new leather armor kept my body safe from all the sharp branches and itchy foliage. It was also nice to not have the constant fear of my loincloth falling off every other minute.


    Anyway, we are on high alert and closing in on the den¡¯s position.


    The problem, however, is how quiet it is. Surprisingly quiet. I kind of expected us to have been attacked by now. We¡¯ve seen nothing. Not even heard a single howl. My scout reports that there are plenty of fresh tracks around; and, it would be weird if our approach haven¡¯t been noticed yet. Wolves are supposed to be excellent predators, aren¡¯t they? They should have smelled my goblins from several kilometers away.


    So¡­ where the fuck are they!?


    I hate this creepy shit.


    Our group halts as one. The scout up front crawls back towards me, keeping her head low.


    ¡°The den is up ahead, C-Chief.¡± She whispers.


    I nod. ¡°Wrex, take the warriors up front and center. Gut, we stay right behind them.¡± I receive several grunts of acknowledgement.


    ¡°You stay behind with the workers.¡± I point to the scout. She makes a quick and nervous nod before she crawls further back.


    ¡°All right everyone. Move out!¡±


    My entire force moves at once, quietly sprinting through the bushes and into a small open clearing. I follow suit, crossbow raised to my chin. Ready to fire at a moment¡¯s notice.


    We spread out in the clearing, weapons raised.


    ¡­


    And, there¡¯s nothing here.


    I furrow my brow. ¡°What the hell. Where is everyone?¡±


    I receive a series of confused shrugs in response. We all thought we would be knee deep in shit, blood and teeth by now.


    Looking around the clearing, I try to spot a clue as to what is going on. It¡¯s a small thirty by thirty meter clearing surrounded by tall grass. There¡¯s a small hill to the east where there is a small cave opening. There is a strong smell of dirty wet dog in the air, as well as several bones and half eaten carcasses on the ground. I even spot the remains of a goblin in their midst, so I¡¯m certain we¡¯re at the correct location.


    But, where the hell are these mutts!?This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    The only logical place for them to be would be here. Unless of course they went to¡­


    Oh crap!


    ¡°EVERYONE!¡± I yell, startling everyone nearby. ¡°We have to get back to base! NOW!¡±


    ¡°What, why?¡± Wrex asks.


    I give him a hopeless stare. ¡°What do you¡­ Shit. If the wolves ain¡¯t here. Where do you think they are?¡± I yell at him.


    He gives me a blank stare for a while before his eyes go wide. I don¡¯t give him time to ask another dumb question as I order Gut to use his [Bloodrush] spell. A strange sensation crawls over my skin as the crimson spell lights up all my goblins in a faint red aura. I waste no time testing out this new feeling before I turn around and start sprinting.


    ----------


    Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!


    I run through the forest as quick as my short legs can carry me. I don¡¯t bother to wait to see how far behind my goblins are. I need to get back to base. And quickly.


    I had unslung my crossbow when we arrived at the clearing earlier and now it hangs loosely across my back. The hard wooden stock smacks me in between my shoulderblades for every step I take. I grit my teeth and endure the pain. I have no time to lose.


    Panic builds in me and my thoughts become scrambled. Shit. How far is it? Am I going the right way? How long have I been running? I think it¡¯s ten minutes. Is it too late? Am I too late? What if-


    There¡¯s a small rustling sound from my left. My eyes catch a glint of a gray blur from the corner of my eye. I turn my head just in time to see a large set of teeth closing in on my face.


    What the-


    I raise my hands to protect myself as a large force crashes into me.


    I lose my footing as I¡¯m thrown through the air, rolling around on the ground with a massive pile of fur on top of me. We come to a stop and I look around confused for a moment. Trying to piece together what the fuck just happened. I soon come face to face with a pair of large blue eyes, staring at me from a distance too close for comfort.


    I yelp in shock as I raise my hands to shield my face. The large wolf charges at me, his large fangs set on piercing my throat.


    My hands barely stop the impact as the wolf slams into me. His fangs snap together only an inch away from my nose, spitting saliva all over my face. I manage to hold his head away if only barely. I have no room to maneuver. His front paws dig into my leather armor, causing several long rifts to appear on my chest.


    A jolt of pain travels up my body as his claws pierce the armor, drawing blood from my exposed chest beneath. My arms tremble and I can feel the breath of the wolf inching closer to my face.


    ¡°RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!¡± A roar bellows as the wolf is ripped off of me, taking strips of my armor with it.


    Wrex had charged shield first into the wolf, throwing it off me.


    I gasp in pain as I struggle to breathe. Several howls pierce the air from all around us.


    ¡°AMBUSH!¡± Gut yells as several gray shapes emerge from the brush.


    ¡°Protect the chieftain!¡± Wrex yells as five of the warriors takes up position in a circle around me. My eyes swivel around the battlefield as I try to take in my surroundings.


    I count a dozen gray wolves surrounding us. Wrex fights a wolf that is twice as large as the others off to the side, while Gut, the two fighters, the scout and the remaining warrior defend our non-combatants.


    My goblins shout in anger at the approaching wolves, trying to deter their advance. The wolves growl angrily in return as they approach slowly, trying to find an opening to attack. We are outnumbered and out of position. Fear builds in me as I realise I ran right into a trap. My forces are split in three groupings, and we are severely outnumbered.


    I find myself at the center of the fight. The smart move is to try and regroup with one of the other groups. The problem is, If I move over towards Gut and the workers, I will leave Wrex alone to be picked off by the wolves. And, if I go to assist Wrex, the wolves will pounce on Gut and the workers, killing them all off.


    The logical choice-


    No, do you know what? Fuck the logic.


    I grab my crossbow and loose a bolt towards the neck of one of the wolves threatening Gut¡¯s group. My shot is like a starting pistol, triggering the wolves as they all pounce at once.


    Gut immediately throws a [Fire Blast] into the thickest concentration of wolves, setting three of them on fire in a firestorm of destruction. Several howls of battle comes from my warriors as they charge at the incoming wolves.


    The battlefield turns into chaos at once. Teeth and claws clash with copper maces and spears as the two unyielding sides fight for their life in a fit of fury. I waste no time reloading my crossbow and taking quick shots every time I can.


    I hit one of the wolves in the side. The bolt causes the wolf to yelp in surprise. The momentary distraction is all my goblins need as a warrior plunges his dagger between the wolf¡¯s ribcage.


    Off to the side, Gut throws out [Fireball]s at an uncanny speed. He cackles in glee as another wolf is set ablaze. He waste no time preparing another shot before the wolf has even hit the ground.


    His manic laughter causes the nearby wolves to flinch. Two of them turn in fear at the sight of their burning packmember.


    A goblin shrieks in pain as two wolves charge him from two sides.He falls over as the wolves tear into his exposed chest. I loose a bolt at one of the wolves taking a chunk out of the fallen goblin¡¯s arm, piercing the wolf through its skull. The remaining wolf howls in pain as two of my goblins pierce its side with spears.


    The battle turns in our favor. Three more wolves have fallen to the combined effort of my warriors. There are only two heavily damaged wolves left, excluding the larger alpha wolf that battles Wrex.


    Wrex isn¡¯t faring too well.


    He has a large gash across his left foot, forcing him to rely more on blocking the large wolf with his shield rather than dodge. His helmet has been knocked off and his lip is swollen. Several cuts and bruises litter his body; but, the wolf fares little better. Its left fang has been chipped, and a large cut has blinded its right eye. However, it seems to have the advantage as Wrex is panting heavily, no doubt caused by his smaller frame and the heavy impacts against his shield.


    I raise my crossbow and take careful aim. The wolf dances around Wrex, trying to find an opening. I loose the bolt, intending to strike its back legs. The wolf¡¯s ear twitches at the sudden snap of my crossbow and he jumps into the air, expertly dodging my shot.


    ¡°NO!¡± Wrex shouts in fury. ¡°Stay out of it! He¡¯s mine!¡± He roars as he swings wide at the alpha, forcing it back further.


    ¡°Come here you filthy flea-ridden bag of scabs. I¡¯ll take your other eye!¡± He roars as he steps in for a thrust with his arm extended. The wolf dodges to the side before he quickly lunges towards Wrex¡¯s exposed side.


    I hold my breath as I watch his fangs close in on Wrex. I can see a faint grin on Wrex¡¯s face as he smashes his elbow into the side of the alpha¡¯s head, knocking it brutally aside. Wrex goes for an overhead slash and tears open a large gash across the alpha¡¯s back leg.


    ¡°Now we¡¯re even.¡± Wrex laughs as he regains his position. A bloodthirsty grin plastered across his rugged face.


    The alpha growls in anger as it surveys the battleground. All of his pack has already fallen. My remaining warriors have already surrounded the fighting pair, waiting for the command to strike the alpha down.


    The wolf snarls as he accepts his fate. His eyes lock onto Wrex, intending to bring down his prey in an act of defiance before his end. He couldn¡¯t run away even if he. The large gash on his leg crippling him.


    He gathers his remaining strength in his back legs, making one final lunge at his opponent. Wrex bends his knees and tilts his [Steel Buckler] against his thigh, bracing for impact. He knows fully that this battle to a close.


    The wolf jumps high, his paws slamming into the top of Wrex¡¯s shield. The forceful impact causes Wrex to slightly lose his footing. He tries to regain his footing as the alpha pushes himself over the shield, striking his jaw towards Wrex¡¯s unprotected head. His teeth find purchase on Wrex¡¯s left ear, ripping out a good chunk of it.


    Howling in pain, Wrex twists his body, causing the wolf to slam into the ground. A short yelp of pain escapes its lips. Without dropping the beat, Wrex lunges himself forwards, sliding his cutlass into the wolfs¡¯ neck. The alpha¡¯s body spasm once before going still.


    I release a breath of relief as my goblins start cheering.


    Panting heavily, Wrex slumps to the ground. A fierce grin on his face. He did it. The little bastard actually did it. I step forwards to congratulate him when a blue window appears in front of my face.


    Quest Completed!


    You have completed a general Minor Quest!


    Objective:


    Wipe out the pack of wolves


    Reward:


    A moderate amount of Resources


    A moderate amount of Experience Points


    12 Summon Points


    Beast race Gained: Gray Forest Wolf


    1 personalized mount: Gray Alpha Wolf


    ----------


    Congratulations!


    You are now level 7.


    You have 5 unassigned attribute points.


    I barely manage to read through the notification before a bright flash of light illuminates the surrounding forest. When the light clears, the area around the battle site of the alpha wolf has changed. There¡¯s a decent pile of leather, ore and food stacked high, as well as a few pieces of copper weapons and basic leather armor.


    That¡¯s not what catches my eye though.


    The fallen alpha wolf has come back to life. He stands above his own corpse, seemingly uncaring that only seconds ago he had a sword embedded in his throat. His eyes are locked onto me.


    My soldiers tense up as Wrex takes a step forward, challenging the wolf.


    ¡°Back for more, dog? I¡¯ll beat you down so bad your pups pups will feel it.¡± He growls at the wolf.


    The wolf gives him a sideways glance and snarls in response. His eyes move back over towards me. We stare at one another for a moment before the wolf lowers his head. Another blue window appears.


    Would you like to name your [Gray Alpha Wolf]?


    YES/NO


    Warning! Selecting NO will result in a name being chosen from a random name generator suitable to your race and previously chosen names.


    Oh. My. God.


    ¡°Don¡¯t attack it! It¡¯s friendly!¡± I shout at Wrex who has already raised his cutlass to strike the wolf down.


    He hesitates, but steps down. Raising his shield while not taking his eyes off the wolf in front of him.


    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious, Chief. That bastard just tried to kill you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but he is with us now. So stand down. He won¡¯t hurt us.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t trust this dog, Chief. It will tear your throat out the first opportunity it gets.¡± He sneers at the wolf.


    ¡°I said stand down Wrex.¡± I say firmly.


    He reluctantly lower his weapon, still staring at the wolf.


    Thrilled at the de-escalation of the situation, I focus my attention back towards the wolf and the message I received. Holy shit. I get my own wolf! How cool is that? And I get to name him?


    The wolf is a sight in itself to behold. It¡¯s a large wolf, as tall as I am. Okay, perhaps it¡¯s not a huge wolf. But for a goblin, it¡¯s feels like a horse. His fur is matted gray, with large claws at each of his four paws. His sharp blue eyes glints of intelligence, and four large fangs protrude from a set of sharp teeth. It seems like he kept the wound over his right eye, and one of his fangs is still chipped. It gives the wolf a nice look of authenticity.


    Holy crap, he looks awesome!


    My eyes move back over to the last segment of the message. Random name generator. I¡¯m not falling for that shit again. I still cringe every time I think about ¡®Gob¡¯. My instinct tells me to name him Scarface, but it just feels like the wrong name for a wolf. After mulling over it for a while, I decide on a proper name.


    Scarfang.


    ¡­


    Shut up. It sounds awesome.


    The wolf - Scarfang, slowly walks towards me. Wrex steps in front of him, blocking the path.


    ¡°Not one step closer, mutt.¡± He warns the wolf.


    ¡°Wrex, stand down. Let him pass.¡± I sigh.


    Scarfang snorts and moves past Wrex. Wrex scowls at him menacingly. Letting the wolf pass without incident.


    I soon come face to face with Scarfang, observing him from up close. He looks menacing; but, there is something in his eyes that tells me that he means me no harm. The moment feels very tense as everyone stares at the wolf.


    ...


    ¡°Who¡¯s a good boy?¡± I grin while I scratch him behind the ear.


    The wolf looks surprised for a moment, but soon lets out a smile to my gentle touch. His tongue extends from his mouth and his tail starts wagging back and forth. He clearly enjoys it.


    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re a good boy.¡± I chuckle.


    I never had a dog of my own, but I always liked them. There isn¡¯t a creature on earth with more loyalty and genuine happiness than a dog. They aren¡¯t like those asshole cats. Selfish little furballs that secretly plot to murder you in your sleep or ruin all your furniture.


    ¡°Seems like you made a new ally, reckless one.¡± Gut growls from the side.


    I turn to face him, beaming with happiness.


    ¡°Perhaps he can do a better job at protecting you. Because you are clearly unfit for the task.¡± He grunts at me.


    Oh. Right.


    ¡°Err, yeah. This didn¡¯t go quite as planned¡­ did it?¡± I smile weakly.


    He glares at me. ¡°Didn¡¯t go as planned? Who knows with you? It seems like your plan mostly involves you nearly killing yourself every chance you get. I swear, if we weren¡¯t here to constantly save your idiotic-.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not completely fair.¡± I interrupt him. ¡°How could I have known it would have been an ambush?¡±


    ¡°By using that thick head of yours. I swear, you are more dense than a dwarf. You should know better than to rush ahead without an escort. Do you really fancy yourself a grand strategist? Because I¡¯ve seen better thinking from a halfwit gnoll.¡±


    Okay he got me with that one. Truth be told, it seems like I suck quite a bit more at group strategies than I assumed I would. It¡¯s far easier to plan for things when I only have myself to worry about, you know?


    This game¡­ It¡¯s unusual. I¡¯ve never played a game where I¡¯m one of the most powerless units. Sure, I have some fancy skills and abilities; but, I¡¯m nothing but just another goblin when you break down the stats. I have good aim with the crossbow, and I pride myself upon it; but, there are just too many moving pieces in this game.


    It¡¯s always been me. My strategy. My stats. My accomplishments. Do you think those skills are easily transferable to leading groups of units? No. Perhaps a little bit, if I played a classic strategy game where I control the units from a computer screen. But not here. Not when I¡¯m a single character. There is no chance in hell for me to get a decent overview of any situation. There are too many unknowns. A lack of information.


    ¡°Yeah. I guess you are right.¡± I ponder. ¡°I¡¯ll leave my safety in your hands from here on out Gut.¡± I smile.


    The old mage grunts in agreement.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you finally see sense, reckless one.¡± He nods. ¡°Now that we got that cleared, I would like to offer up some recommendations on how to best escort-¡±


    ¡°Yeah that sounds great!¡± I interrupt the old mage. I grab hold of Scarfang¡¯s neck and swing myself on top of his back. ¡°I trust you completely on this.¡± I laugh as I shove my heels into Scarfang¡¯s side. The large wolf starts running back toward the base.


    ¡°See ya back at the base!¡± I shout across my shoulder as I ride away on Scarfang¡¯s back through the forest. I let the cold forest wind gently wash over my face as we quickly ride through the forest. The adrenaline still hasn¡¯t left my body from the fight earlier, and I don¡¯t intend to lose the effect quite yet.


    We pick up speed as we hear Gut¡¯s loud shouts and curses quickly fade in the distance.


    What a great day this is!

 Chapter 21 – Contract

    Chapter 21 ¨C Contract


    We make good time riding through the forest.


    Scarfang is an excellent mount. He moves swiftly, most likely due to his breed of wolf being natural inhabitants of the forest. I hardly feel the impacts of moving through the forest. His naturally flexible limbs and the spring to his steps cushions the forceful movements of sprinting on the uneven terrain.


    I can really get used to this mode of transportation.


    It¡¯s certainly far better than moving through the dense underbrush on my own. It feels nice to be lazy every now and then. Besides, aren¡¯t great leaders supposed to lead from horseback? It helps when I¡¯m this short at least. Makes me feel like Napoleon.


    I start laughing as we near my base.


    We break into the clearing full sprint. The huge mountain comes into view in all its splendor, and the small shoddy huts and hovels pop up one after the other.


    The place isn¡¯t on fire, so I assume nothing bad happened during my absence. I¡¯m not surprised. The odds of something happening during this short timespan is ludicrously-


    *Swosh*


    A fireball flies above my head.


    ¡°Son of a¡­ STOP FIRING YOU DIMWIT!¡± I shout from the top of my lungs.


    Another fireball comes my way.


    Scarfang growls as he jumps to the side, effectively dodging the flaming projectile. He goes into a full sprint towards the village. Teeth bared.


    ¡°I said hold your fucking fire asshole!¡± I shout again.


    A scrawny goblin with a mage¡¯s hood pulled over his face stops conjuring a small ball of flame between his hands. He pulls up his hood and stares at me. His eyes going wide in fear when he realises who he just tried to incinerate.


    The little goblin immediately prostrates himself on the ground.


    ¡°C-chief! I- I didn¡¯t expect you back so soon¡­ I saw the wolf¡­¡± He cries in fear.


    ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you, really?¡± I sneer at the goblin. He winces.


    ¡°P-please¡­ don¡¯t tell master Gut¡­¡± He whimpers.


    ¡°Give me one good reason.¡±


    He lift his crying face from the ground. ¡°My eyes¡­ They don¡¯t seem to work as well as others¡­ I¡¯m sorry I failed you great chieftain¡­¡± He sniffles.


    His eyes? What the hell is wrong with his eyes? I throw a inspect his way, opening up the stats list for my generic mob.


    Goblin Fire Mage


    Class: Fire Mage


    Mana: 3rd Rank


    Perk: Bad Eyesight


    Morale: 5%


    Skills


    Class skill (Passive): [Enhanced Mana Manipulation]


    Spell Mastery: Level 11


    -Fire Specialization: Level 11


    --[Fireball]: Tier 1


    --[Flamethrower]: Tier 2


    Equipment:


    Head: Tier 4. Enchanted Brown Silk Cowl (50%)


    ...


    Fireball


    Fire Magic. Tier 1.


    A ball of fire causing moderate fire damage.


    Flamethrower


    Fire Magic. Tier 2.


    A cone of fire erupts from the caster, causing massive damage.


    Huh. Seems like the little guy actually has the [Bad Eyesight] perk...


    So who the hell put this guy on watch duty!?


    Someone should get flogged for this.


    I look through the rest of his status screen. I have completely forgotten to check the status of my lesser minions at all since my first days here. It¡¯s about time I learn more about my units since I apparently suck donkey balls at doing the fighting myself.


    The screen looks much simpler than my own status screen, or Gut¡¯s or Wrex¡¯s for that matter. It¡¯s simple, but it still gives lots of familiar tidbits of information. Being a [Mage] type of character, I¡¯m not surprised to see he has a mana rank. It¡¯s ranked at three, which means, if my memory serves correctly, that he can throw six [Fireball]s or two [Flamethrower]s per day. Not a lot, but useful nonetheless.


    I can also see that he has the hood we looted from Qargon¡¯s advisor. Strange, I would have expected him to receive the much more powerful enchanted staff, considering he is a damage dealing spellslinger compared to the more support oriented [Blood Mage]. Oh well, I suppose that¡¯s his punishment for nearly killing me yesterday. I¡¯m not adverse to some sort of punishment; but, this feels so¡­ inefficient. Not sure if I like it. But meh. It¡¯s doesn¡¯t make a significant difference.


    I disembark from Scarfang and stretch my legs. While riding him is far more comfortable than walking, it still makes my virtual legs feel a little stiff after a full sprint. The arrival of an unexpected blue windows causes my mouth to twitch into a smile.


    Congratulations!


    You have gained 1 skill level in Riding!


    Not bad, not bad. I¡¯m not certain what benefits this will give me; but, I¡¯m hoping for some amazing ability down the line.


    Being back at base, I decide to spend the twelve free SP I gained after clearing out Scarfang¡¯s pack. I love how I¡¯m able to gain more SP through completing quests. It speeds up development and can also function as a way for weaker players to catch up to the stronger ones.


    Opening up the good old unit spawn list, I¡¯m faced with an unexpected surprise.


    Summon units.


    Available SP: 12


    SP generated per day: 12


    Goblin Fighter: Cost 2 SP


    Goblin Worker: Cost 2 SP


    Gray Forest Wolf: Cost 2 SP


    I can spawn wolves now? Cool!


    I shake in glee as I consider the new options I have. Wolves. Wow. Really. What do they do? What can they do? Do they serve as mounts just like Scarfang? Or perhaps as combatants? Maybe both? Can they follow commands? Dozens of thoughts swirl around in my head as I try to think about all the possibilities. I believe experimentation is in order.


    Now that the wolves are no longer a threat, I decide to restock on my food gathering workers. I spawn another [Hunter] and a [Forager] and send them out into the forest. I also spawn two more [Fighter]s alongside two [Gray Forest Wolf]s. I need more fighting units, and I need them fast. I¡¯m struck by the idea that I can start building some sort of mounted force. Some part of my brain screams at me because I didn¡¯t spawn four fighters and start training them to become [Warrior]s, but I just can¡¯t overlook the fact that something cool can come out of this.


    I¡¯m a sucker for new and fancy shit.


    As my new units arrive in a flash of light, I inspect one of the wolves and open up the extended information screen.


    Gray Forest Wolf


    Type: Not assigned


    Skills: None


    Equipment:


    Head: None


    Body: None


    Feet: None


    Utility: None


    Okay, it didn¡¯t say as much as I hoped, but it¡¯s cool nonetheless though.


    What catches my eye is the unit ¡®type¡¯ which seems to be unassigned. I mentally select it and two options reveal themselves. Apparently, I can designate the units to be either a [Mount] or a [Beast]. It¡¯s disappointing, but not surprising. One seems to be only for riding, and the other is clearly a combat classification.


    I¡¯m not sure if I want to bother upgrading any of them to [Beast]s as of yet. I believe my goblins have a better potential for growth. I¡¯m definitely not going to dismiss the idea quite yet though. There is a load of potential here. I didn¡¯t fail to notice that the wolves can learn abilities, and they should have a natural higher speed. Lots of potential to be discovered at a later date.


    As I upgrade both the wolves to become mounts, a bright white light engulfs them. As it disappears, I can see that the wolves have grown slightly in size, and they each received a basic [Leather Saddle].


    Huh. Why didn¡¯t Scarfang get one of those?


    The two freshly spawned goblins cheer in delight as they each jump onto a wolf. Completely without asking for permissions of course. The wolves howl in response and they all set out into a full sprint towards the forest. The goblins and wolves makes a hell of a lot of noise. The goblins shout obscene battlecries as they swing their wooden clubs in circles above their heads.


    ¡­


    I hope I won¡¯t regret this¡­


    Meh. It can¡¯t be that bad. Probably.


    I shrug and turn to head off to find myself a snack for lunch. There¡¯s nothing like life threatening combat in the morning to give me an appetite. They do say food and sex are best enjoyed after combat.


    Well¡­ Since I don¡¯t seem to have any genitals¡­


    I make it about half the way over towards the dining area when a panicked goblin runs over to me.


    ¡°C-chief!¡± He stammers. ¡°Enemies spotted to the north!¡±


    ¡°Huh? Nah. It¡¯s not. It¡¯s just Gut and the boys.¡± I yawn. I really need to get myself some better sentries. It¡¯s getting ludicrous. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect them to get back this soon though¡­¡± I sigh. There is no way Gut is going to allow me to eat lunch in peace after I ran off.


    ¡°It¡¯s not goblins!¡± The goblin pipes up.


    I freeze. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a tall human with four legs and a big brown butt.¡± The goblin says.


    I immediately turn around and run over towards the northern edge of my village. When I reach it, I immediately stop.


    There¡¯s a massive brown horse standing at the edge of the clearing. No wait. That¡¯s not right. That¡¯s a woman. At least from the waist up. Her body and legs is that of a big brown horse. She has a majestic posture as she scans my settlement with sharp eyes.


    ¡°Is that¡­ a centaur?¡± I ask in disbelief. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ freaking cool!¡±


    What? Centaurs are cool. I am not going to lie. But shit. I don¡¯t think this is another beast. The female centaur wields a long copper spear with leather armor across her chest.


    It¡¯s a player.


    ¡°Where the hell are the mages!? Shit. We have to bring her down. Fast!¡± I hiss at the goblins to my side. If that¡¯s an enemy scout, then I have to stop her before she can report back to her people.


    Fuck. She is so far away, and I doubt I can catch up to her if she runs off. Even with the help of Scarfang. My best bet is to hit her with my blood mage. I covertly grab the crossbow off my back and load it with a bolt. So far, the centaur has just been standing there. Observing us.


    That suits me fine. I can hear some soft footsteps from behind. My [Blood Mage] must have arrived.


    Before I can order my mages to attack her, the centaur starts walking towards us. She produces a white linen piece of cloth which she waves above her head.


    Really? A white flag?


    The centaur approaches slowly, and comes to a stop fifteen meters in front of me. The woman is huge. Nearly two and a half meters tall. That¡¯s a lot. Especially when I am a goblin! I gulp at the thought of fighting her. What the hell. How is this fair? There¡¯s no way my goblins can take her on in single combat. She must be from a tier three race at the very least. She feels like a freaking tier seven race though. If that¡¯s even a thing...Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    I slowly inch backwards, placing myself safely behind my two mages and Scarfang. I doubt they could stop her if she really wanted to kill me though.


    ¡°I come in peace!¡± The female centaur shouts loudly enough for my entire village to hear. ¡°I wish to speak to the Chieftain of this tribe.¡± She looks down at us without tilting her head. It makes her look incredibly condescending. Really. She is rude. Why bother saying she comes in peace with that attitude?


    ¡°He isn¡¯t here.¡± I say. ¡°Would you like to leave a message?¡±


    Why would I deliberately make myself a target for a sneak attack? Pfft. Hell no. I¡¯m naive, but not THAT naive.


    She crosses her arms, scowling at me. ¡°I will wait.¡±


    Uhm. Okay?


    She stands completely still. Almost like a statue. Just scowling at me and the rest of the goblins. She looks at us if we are covered in shit, and her nose twitches into a sneer every time she makes eye contact with anyone.


    This entire situation is good I suppose. It seems like it isn¡¯t easy to single me out from a crowd. Doesn¡¯t she have the inspect skill? It can¡¯t be a player. No way. Could it?


    I throw a quick inspect at her.


    Centaur Lieutenant


    Name: ???


    Race: Centaur


    Herd: Swift Mist


    Class: Scout


    Strength: Strong


    Oh. She is a Lieutenant, just like Wrex. And a scout nonetheless. Great. She must have had no problems finding us. Still though. If she¡¯s a scout, then she should have been able to inspect me by now or something.


    Perhaps she just sucks at her job, or maybe she thinks it isn¡¯t necessary as if she considers us not worth the effort to inspect. Arrogance. I kind of want to wipe that sneer off her face. I have the perfect bolt for the job...


    ¡°Can I get you anything? A cup of water maybe?¡± I ask the centaur. I don¡¯t know why. This situation is both awkward and tense at the same time. I don¡¯t know how to deal with this shit.


    She raises her eyebrow as she gives me a flat look.


    ¡°That is not necessary.¡±


    Her hooves stamp impatiently into the ground. I can¡¯t blame her. It must be just as stressful for her to stand among a host of enemies. I just wish she didn¡¯t act like such a bitch. My gut feeling tells me that it¡¯s probably okay to reveal myself to her, but I¡¯d rather not. Gut and Wrex should be back soon. And, I¡¯d rather they be present if things go to shit.


    We stand around in silence for about twenty minutes.


    It feels like hours. When I¡¯m just about to go grab a snack, the familiar silhouettes of my goblin war party emerges from the northwestern edge of the clearing.


    I release a breath of relief. Finally.


    The cheerful band of goblins walk towards us at a leisurely pace. That is until they spot the centaur. They halt in their tracks trying to comprehend the odd situation that transpires in front of them.


    I can spot Gut squinting at me. His eyes alternating between me and the centaur. I try to give him a look that says the situation is under control; but, I don¡¯t think he gets it. His grip tightens around his staff and some small sparks of fire erupt from the tip of his fingers.


    Oh shit.


    ¡°Stand down Gut! She¡¯s not an enemy!¡± I yell. Waving at the old mage. He shoots me an angry glare.


    ¡°At least not at the moment.¡± I add weakly.


    The war party heads over towards us. Weapons raised and scowling at the new threat. They take a wide berth around her, taking up position around me. Wrex slides up in front of me. Shield raised.


    ¡°Care to fill us in, reckless one?¡± Gut grumbles from my side.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± I start.


    A loud sigh from the centaur interrupts me.


    ¡°I am Lydia of the Swift Mist Herd.¡± She states as if her words carry a lot of meaning. When she receives nothing but empty stares in return, she frowns, but continues. ¡°I wish to speak to the chieftain of this tribe.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me. What do you want?¡± I shout back at her. The look of fury she gives me could kill puppies, I swear.


    She closes her eyes, dropping her arms and takes a deep breath. The anger in her eyes hasn¡¯t completely subsided when she eventually reopens them.


    ¡°On behalf of my leader, Allison the Wise, I am here to extend an offer of trade between our two people. And also, if possible, an armistice.¡±


    Oh? Intriguing.


    ¡°What do you have to offer?¡± I shout, completely ignoring the not so subtle signs Gut sends me to make me consult with him first.


    The centaur straightens her back. ¡°We offer an abundance of food and leather. We are adept at hunting and breeding livestock. We are also expert bowyers and enchanters.¡± She says with pride.


    Hmm. I stroke my non-existent beard to simulate that I¡¯m thinking about her offer. She doesn¡¯t offer anything that I really need. By the time she can provide me with bows, I will already have a decent production going myself. Enchanting sounds nice; but, I sincerely doubt she can offer me anything in the near future. My goblins are also adept hunters and I already have more leather than I know what to do with.


    Gut hobbles closer to me trying desperately to grab my attention.


    I ignore him as I shout back. ¡°No sorry, not interested. Got anything else?¡±


    Her prideful smile immediately drops and is replaced by a scowl. ¡°What do you mean, anything else? I assure you. We can provide better quality and quantity goods than anything you people can-¡±


    ¡°If your stuff is that great¡­¡± I interrupt her. ¡°Then what is to stop me from just taking all your stuff for free?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like to see your try, midget.¡± She snaps back. Her temper flaring.


    She takes a step forwards, pointing her spear directly at me.


    ¡°Not one more step, you overgrown dog.¡± Gut hisses at her. A small flame building in the palm of his hand.


    She pulls her eyes off me and focus on the mage to my side. They stare daggers at one another before eventually, she lowers her spear. She takes a step back and once again crosses her arms across her chest. Scowling angrily at me.


    She snorts. ¡°She figured you might say that¡­¡± She closes her eyes in order to calm herself. ¡°We can also offer something of more value.¡±


    ¡°And that would be¡­?¡±


    ¡°Information.¡± She says matter-of-factly.


    I raise my eyebrow. ¡°What kind of information?¡±


    ¡°Anything. Player locations, their numbers and quality of equipment, current wars they are fighting among much more. We currently have up to date information on twenty different nearby players.¡± She smirks. ¡°Anything you could possibly need.¡±


    All right. She got me there. That does indeed sound interesting. But, the skeptic in me isn¡¯t quite satisfied.


    ¡°And how did you come across this information?¡±


    ¡°Lets just say¡­ We have our methods.¡± She smirks mysteriously, satisfied that she seems to finally have captured my complete attention.


    That sort of information. It¡¯s valuable. Really valuable. Who the hell wouldn¡¯t want access to that? That¡¯s the sort of information that wins wars. I could do some art of war kind of action with that knowledge. I know a good deal when I hear it. I¡¯m tempted to accept right here and now.


    ¡­


    ¡°You¡¯re full of shit. No deal.¡±


    I mean come on. Really? Does she expect me to believe those obvious lies? To be able to have that much information this early in the game is ridiculous. She would need to have several scouts assigned to every player near her, as well as having a complex network of messengers moving back and forth. Considering she is playing as Centaurs which is a tier three race, I just don¡¯t see how it¡¯s feasible for her to have that kind of manpower only eleven days into the game.


    She probably just wants to sell me a crapload of lies and charge me double for it.


    Her eyes widen in surprise at my abrupt dismissal of her offer.


    ¡°What!?¡± She shrieks. No longer able to control the tone of her voice. ¡°What do you¡­ Our information is accurate! I swear. How dare you accuse-¡±


    ¡°Drop the act already. You don¡¯t fool me. I said no deal. Now get lost before I lose my patience with you.¡±


    While she stares at me with shocked outrage, I turn away and beckon for Gut to come closer.


    ¡°Psst.¡± I whisper. He looks back at me, confused. ¡°As soon as she turns to leave, hit her with blood magic.¡±


    What? You thought I¡¯d let her just stroll off? Playing honorable is for suckers. There is no way I¡¯m going to let her report everything she saw back to her boss. She saw way too much here. It¡¯s not dishonorable when it¡¯s just a game.


    ¡°I can assure you¡­ Our methods are genuine¡­¡± She pleads with me. I just shoo her off with a hand gesture.


    Her face contorts into a weird grimace, clearly unable to comprehend what just happened. She starts pulling her hair as I can see sweat pouring from her forehead.


    ¡°DIVINATION MAGIC!¡± She shouts panting for breath. ¡°We use divination magic!¡± She repeats.


    ¡°Seriously!?¡± I blurt out without thinking.


    Really? Divination magic is a thing? That¡­ That¡¯s¡­ fucking cheating! What the hell, man! She can use magic to spy on me?


    ¡°Yes.¡± She says. Her cheeks turning red. She probably shouldn¡¯t have told me, and she knows it. ¡°Do you believe me?¡±


    I hesitate.


    She could be bluffing, but I don¡¯t think so. VIs can¡¯t be this good at acting, can they? Surely they can¡¯t have the ability to make this shit up on the spot. Can they? Nah. Probably not.


    ¡°You¡¯re bluffing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± She shouts.


    ¡°Then prove it.¡± I cross my own arms.


    She hesitate for a while. I can figuratively see how the gears in her head grinds.


    ¡°My mistress told me about of how you defeated the harpy.¡±


    I raise my eyebrow. ¡°She saw that? Crap¡­ Oh. Wait. And how exactly did I do that?¡±


    ¡°You used the fat one over there as bait.¡± She points at Wrex. ¡°And then you had the angry one hit them with a large fireball. My mistress told me it was the most beautiful firework she had seen.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± I can feel the hubris building. ¡°I suppose it was pretty genius wasn¡¯t it?¡± I grin.


    ¡°So she told me.¡± She nods. ¡°Not bad for a midget at the very least.¡±


    ¡­


    That bitch. That was totally uncalled for.


    I scowl at the woman. ¡°And, what exactly do you want in return for this information?¡±


    She takes another step forward, forcing a smile on her face. A very fake smile. I know when a woman is loathe to see my face.


    ¡°From what we have seen you can provide, we require foraged food and herbs. It seems like you little green creatures have a knack for picking up stuff from the ground. You could also¡­ ah¡­ offer to do some mercenary work for us every now and then.¡± She nods.


    So that¡¯s why they searched me out. They figured I¡¯m at the top of the food chain at the moment. Alright, not bad. I could do without the jabs at my height though. She is going to start making me feel self-conscious soon.


    ¡°Sounds like a reasonable transaction to me.¡± I mutter.


    We proceed to hash out the details in a more lengthy negotiation. It¡¯s really tough to put a price on military services and offered information. We ended up making a rough rating system on the information provided. We rank the information from a value between one and three, where three means that¡¯s it¡¯s highly crucial information. I will offer herbs and foraged food for the lesser information and a varying degree of military support for the expensive information.


    We also hash out a relay system. The centaurs will have an active messenger that will patrol between our villages several times per day to give status updates and carry traded goods.


    Apparently, The centaur¡¯s base is located in a plains biome directly to my north. So far, they have only seen small skirmishes with their neighbours; but, their strength has risen fast due to numerous trade agreements and a network of information spanning several nearby biomes.


    Like seriously. I didn¡¯t even know it was possible to go for a diplomatic playstyle in this game.


    I didn¡¯t see much need to be stingy in my negotiations, as I figure I¡¯ll just betray her eventually anyway. This is a game, and I¡¯m not really going to put myself at a severe disadvantage just because she said so. I probably offered slightly more troops for good information than I needed to.


    I noticed the error of my ways however, when the centaur activates an unexpected ability.


    Trade agreement


    Contract offered by: The Swift Mist Herd


    Contract received by: The Dark Fang Tribe


    Contract length: 30 days.


    The Swift Mist Herd offers legitimate intelligence per request about players in direct conflict with the Dark Fang tribe. The Main A.I will supervise each exchange. The Dark Fang tribe will offer:


    A minor amount of [Foraged Food] and [Herb]s in exchange for lesser information such as the location of enemy bases.


    A moderate amount of [Foraged Food] and [Herb]s in exchange for information such as troop amount, type of units and quality of equipment.


    A mercenary combat force containing between 15 to 20 percent of their total military force for 24 hours to assist the Swift Mist herd in combat in exchange for information about enemy troops movements or active conflicts with other tribes.


    The Swift Mist herd may not withhold information about threats to the Dark Fang tribe for the duration of the agreement.


    Both players swear to maintain an armistice for the duration of the agreement.


    The contract may be cancelled at any time by mutual agreement between the players.


    None of the players may force or coerce a third player to influence the agreement or cause deliberate harm towards the other player.


    Warning!


    Breaching this contract will cause the offending player to be unable to gain any Summon Points for seven to fourteen days depending on the severity of the breach.


    Holy freaking cheese nuggets!


    It¡¯s possible to offer trade agreements? Can I do this? What level of [Diplomacy] does she have? What are the requirements?


    ¡°Does this deal seem satisfying to you?¡± The centaur breaks me out of my thinking frenzy.


    I read through the trade agreement, mulling over the details. I¡¯m able to share the window with Gut, who stands growling to the side.


    This contract feels a little unspecific. I¡¯m certain they put a few tripwires for me in there somewhere. I have no doubt in my mind that this ¡®Allison¡¯ person is highly intelligent.


    It doesn¡¯t say anything specific about us really having to do anything special at all. We don¡¯t even have to trade any information if we don¡¯t want to. The real kicker from this agreement is the fact that we added an armistice. That¡¯s all well and all. I don¡¯t see much of a downside. To me, it seems like I¡¯m perfectly safe from surprise attacks from the north for thirty days, with a warning system in case someone decides to attack me. I¡¯m not even really interested in knowing much about my neighbours at the moment. I want to clear out the two remaining players in my biome and finish my personalized quest above anything else.


    I think I¡¯m the winner in this agreement. She knows I¡¯m the stronger player; and, she pretty much secured her position for the foreseeable future. Hell, I bet she has plenty of tricks up her sleeve to try and exploit the contract in her favor. That¡¯s why I had the idea to add that last point to the contract.


    After quietly discussing the terms with Gut in private, I decide to accept the contract. As I do, I quickly receive a notification about said agreement, and that I may view it from my chieftain¡¯s overview at any time.


    Lydia waste no time leaving my village as soon as the negotiations conclude. I have to say, she seemed way too happy about leaving. Not that it matters. I can¡¯t say I enjoyed her company either. It isn¡¯t fun to argue with a person that is six times my size.


    ¡°What a day¡­¡± I sigh as Gut and I watch Lydia disappear into the forest in the distance.


    I only receive a grunt in response.


    It¡¯s already early evening. Really. Talking with Lydia took forever. My stomach is rumbling and my joints are stiff. I really need to go for a walk. Or perhaps a ride? I¡¯m sure Scarfang would love the exercise.


    But, business comes first I guess.


    ¡°Did anything interesting happen after I left you in the forest?¡± I ask the sour old mage.


    He scowls at me. Oh crap. Did I just remind him about something I shouldn¡¯t have?


    ¡°Nothing of note, reckless one. The two [Fighter]s are ready to be promoted to [Warrior]s. I distributed the new weapons and armor among the warriors and had them carry the resources back.¡±


    Ooh. Promotions. I¡¯ve lost far too many of warriors lately. I¡¯m glad to see them progress.


    ¡°Did they drop any skulls?¡± I ask.


    He shakes his head. ¡°No, but we did gain seventeen [Gold Coin]s.¡±


    We gained what now?


    ¡°Ehm. G-¡±


    ¡°Did anything else happen when you ran off?¡± He interrupts me. His voice sounding stern. It scares me a little bit really.


    My eyes automatically wander over towards the [Fire Mage] that stands huddled to the side with the rest of my bodyguards. I can see him tremble in fear as my eyes connect with his.


    ¡­


    ¡°Nah, can¡¯t say that it did.¡± I lie.

 Chapter 22 – Preparations

    Chapter 22 ¨C Preparations


    ¡°Welcome back to Fantasy Now!¡± Amanda smiles towards the camera. Her alluring smile the only thing that glitters more than her low cut gold dress that leaves little to the imagination.


    ¡°Tonight we have a treat for you all as we get to take a closer look at the main protagonist in one of our featured storylines. You all know who I¡¯m talking about, right?¡± She asks, a coy smile on her lips.


    The audience erupts into a grand applause, several voices chanting the very same name that has been on everyone¡¯s lips this last week.


    ¡°Yes, you all guessed it. It¡¯s the Avenger Storyline everyone!¡± Another, stronger applause explodes across the small studio.


    Amanda shifts in her seat and leans forwards, staring deeply into the camera lense.


    ¡°For those of you who don¡¯t know, or have been living under a rock for the past week, we are talking about a young player, Gregory Asbj?rnsen, only twenty-six years old. He is currently the lead player in Fantasy Royale with two spectacular wins under his belt.¡± She pauses, creating an alluring atmosphere for the audience.


    She slightly squints her eyes to seem more serious.


    ¡°What many of you don¡¯t know is what drives young Gregory forward. Gregory is not what one would consider the typical hero of a story. He doesn¡¯t have many friends, he isn¡¯t rich¡­ but I suppose he is a little handsome.¡± She winks to the camera.


    ¡°No, Gregory is an average child, born of tragedy. After his mother passed away, the sorrow stricken Gregory dove head first into the world of gaming. He became so secluded and angry, he lashed out at the world growing more bitter every day. It left him alone and vulnerable. Easy prey for bullies. And, he did get bullied.¡±


    Her tone grows more serious as she pauses for effect allowing the information to seep into the audience.


    ¡°It got really bad for him. So bad that he lost his job. He had no way to fight back against the bullies. That is, until he discovered his bullies had signed up for Fantasy Royale.¡± She smiles.


    She knows the audience is captivated; and, she exploits this to the fullest.


    ¡°Which is why Gregory decided to gamble it all. Every last bit of his life savings went to get his revenge. That¡¯s right, to finally exact his revenge on his long time bullies, he gambled it all.


    Logan Andrews, lead designer and creator of Fantasy Royale himself heard about Gregory¡¯s plight. He felt compassion and decided to give Gregory a chance at this great stage. An opportunity to strike back at his oppressors. His tale of revenge is one of great sorrow, but also one that has a certain beauty to it.¡± She leans back in her chair, the coy smile back at her lips.


    ¡°Is he a hero? Or maybe a lost cause? Why don¡¯t we delve deeper into who Gregory Asbj?rnsen really is, and how his quest for vengeance transfers into his avatar, the devious Goblin Ranger, Greg¡¯lok.¡±


    The camera pulls back to reveal her two guests for the evening. Two men. One an overweight man pushing his fifties. He is wearing a well worn checker shirt, with a blue striped tie and a brown jacket. His thinning hair is greasy and pulled back. The uneven stubble of a beard fails at hiding his nervous smile. He waves awkwardly at the camera.


    Beside the unkempt man sits a younger, sour looking young man in his early twenties. He wears a sharp tailored black suit with a black tie. He has a modern and stylish haircut with glistening white teeth to complete the perfect teenager set. His posture is that of a person used to authority. Everything about him screams that he comes from good money, which he definitely does.


    ¡°Today we guest the two players who faced their end at Gregory¡¯s mercy. Give a hand for Harvey Williamson, also known as Harvalon the Harpy, and Quinn Daniels, also known as Qargon the Kobold.¡± Another cheer erupts. Harvey nervously waves at the camera, while Quinn sits stone faced with his arms crossed.


    ¡°Harvey¡­ Can I call you Harvey?¡± Amanda says playfully.


    ¡°S-sure you can.¡± He smiles back, his cheeks blushing slightly.


    ¡°You started off the game in spectacular fashion¡­ Not only did you defeat the first player within six hours of the game, but you also used a tactic so simple and daring that no one else thought of it. What made you use such an unconventional strategy?¡± She leans in closer, slightly increasing the size of her cleavage.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± He wipes some sweat off his neck. His eyes struggling to keep away from Amanda¡¯s alluring form. ¡°I¡¯m a fan of the classic Real Time Strategy games. Starcraft, Warcraft, Company of Heroes and the like. They don¡¯t make games like that anymore. It¡¯s a dead genre. I believe this game is the closest we¡¯ve come to these classic games. When I realised the potential, I figured, why try to reinvent the wheel? There are loads of timeless strategies out there.¡± He says confidently, clearly more comfortable discussing his passion for gaming.


    Amanda sits back in her chair. She slowly moves her left foot over her right one, making sure to capture the attention of the man she is interviewing. ¡°It certainly worked for a while¡­ Tell me¡­ Being the fan of classic strategy games. What happened in your battle with Gregory?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that battle surprised me.¡± His smile turns into a thoughtful frown. ¡°I really didn¡¯t expect him to pull out such a great counter to my strategy. I don¡¯t really know how he knew what I was going to do. The way he kept his cool and realised I wanted to zerg rush him¡­ I don¡¯t get it.¡± He trails off into his own thoughts.


    ¡°Was it what you would expect from the actions of an enraged young man?¡± Amanda asks.


    ¡°Huh? No. Not at all. No angry person could be able to think on his feet like that. Not unless he¡¯s an elite level strategy player, and there hasn¡¯t been anyone of those around for at least two decades. Gregory is far too young to have mastered strategy games¡­ He must be some anonymous RPG-player; but, there¡¯s hardly any of those left. Not unless he is the famed Solo Butcher or some other unknown prodigy at gaming.¡± He nods to himself.


    ¡°Do you mean to say a professional RPG players wouldn¡¯t do well in Fantasy Royale?¡± Amanda asks.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ Well, they would, but not as well as one would expect I¡¯d guess. Being a professional at one genre of games doesn¡¯t automatically make you a professional at other games. It gives you an edge, yes, but it hardly qualifies you to master a new genre from the start.¡± He scratches his chin, deep in thought.


    ¡°If I would have to make a comparison, I¡¯d say it would be like asking your veterinarian to perform brain surgery on a human. Sure, he would know the basics of anatomy and get by well enough, but it will still turn into a mess. Looking through Gregory¡¯s recordings, he definitely struggles with the strategy aspects of the game. Regardless, he is definitely very skilled in any combat situation. More so than one would expect from an RPG-player.¡± He nods. Satisfied by his own analysis.


    Quinn snorts from the side.


    ¡°As if¡­¡± He mumbles.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Amanda asks the young man. She perks up at the fact that the interview is starting to spice up.


    ¡°The guy is nothing but a coward that got lucky. There¡¯s nothing special about him. If you think otherwise, then you¡¯re nothing but a fool.¡± He sneers.


    ¡°Care to elaborate?¡± Amanda asks.


    Quinn snaps his head towards her. Glaring at her. ¡°There¡¯s not much to say. He got lucky when he picked a class and his minions weren¡¯t completely fucking useless. He just got a broken starting race is all. My blind grandmother could have won that fight with overpowered units. I¡¯m of half a mind to boycott this stupid game. It got the worst balance issues I¡¯ve ever seen in a game.¡±


    A loud snort comes from Harvey. ¡°Please. Have you even watched the recording of your fight? Unlike you, he trained his units every day. You did nothing but sit on your ass and turtle up, splitting up your units and send them off to die in bulk. Turtle players never win.¡± He chuckles.


    Quinn glares furiously at Harvey, clenching his jaw. ¡°What did you just say to me? I won¡¯t take this crap from the idiot that sacrificed all his units to power up that lucky prick. It¡¯s your fault we are both sitting here right now!¡± He snarls at Harvey.


    Harveys eyes widen in surprise at the sudden outburst from Quinn. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, a single strand of his dark greasy hair falling down over his face.


    ¡°I meant no offence¡­ But, you have to admit, Greg¡¯lok did outmaneuver you with his skill alone. I didn¡¯t power him up at all. He threw most of his experience points after killing me into his diplomat stat. It wasn¡¯t of any help to him in the battle at all. If anything, I did kill several of his goblins. Just as many as you did in fact.¡±


    Quinn scowls at him. ¡°Irrelevant. You gave him skill levels and extra gear.¡± He growls.


    ¡°He can¡¯t use harpy equipment; and, the skill levels he gained was negligible compared to his gains from training.¡± Harvey retorts.


    Quinns face reddens as he tries to stare a hole through Harvey¡¯s face.


    ¡°It¡¯s this stupid tier one race crap that¡¯s at fault.¡± He eventually sneers. ¡°It¡¯s broken. I couldn¡¯t do anything.¡±


    ¡°Well I must admit that you are correct that the tier one races perform worse in battle than their higher tier counterparts¡­¡± Harvey starts.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Amanda shoots in, trying to calm the tense situation and move the interview forward.


    Harvey raises his eyebrow. ¡°Huh? Oh. Right. Well, I¡¯ve spent the last few days looking through a lot of the game footage from a lot of different players. It does indeed look like the tier one races struggle to fight off the larger races. Evidenced by the large battle last night where the player Richmeister with his tier three dragonkin race completely dominated another goblin player. The goblins didn¡¯t seem able to even scratch the dragonkin, even with copper weapons.¡±


    ¡°Would you say tier one races are useless then?¡± Amanda inquires.


    ¡°Nah. It¡¯s definitely harder for them. They may be weak in combat; but, their utility is by far the greatest. More hands means things get done faster. They are by far the most industrious of the tiers. They feel more like¡­ a support kind of race.¡± Harvey says while scratching his chin.


    ¡°Support race?¡± Amanda furrows her brow.


    ¡°Ehm, yeah. They seem to be the best race to form an alliance with, or just subjugate through the diplomat stat. There¡¯s this example where the Lizardmen player Xterm1nat0r subjugated the gnome player YoloLyfe36¡­¡±


    Quinn jumps to his feet. ¡°It¡¯s complete bullshit is what it is! Support player my ass! It practically means tier one players only gets to be other peoples bitches. I demand...¡±


    ¡°Please, sit down mister Daniels.¡± Amanda orders the young man.


    With fists clenched, Quinn looks over at her with rage in his eyes before he remembers where he is. He takes a deep breath and slowly unclenches his fists. He sits down in his chair, blushing, but still scowling.


    Amanda salvages the tense situation and directs the camera towards herself.


    ¡°As you can see, everyone, tension is high here in the studio. We can¡¯t wait to see what will happen with Gregory and his tribe. Is Gregory¡¯s reason to play this game really fueled by the rage for his bullies, or is it something else? I promise you we will soon find out.¡± She once again smile coyly into the camera.


    ¡°One of his bullies shares his biome after all¡­¡±


    ----------


    Quest Alert!


    You have received a general Minor Quest!


    Objective:


    Wipe out two beastlairs within your territory (0/2)


    Reward:


    A moderate amount of Resources


    A moderate amount of Experience Points


    18 Summon Points


    That¡¯s the wake up call I received the very next morning after my meeting with Lydia and the Swift Mist tribe.


    Do you know how annoying it is to have your eyes shocked open by a loud metallic ringing sound? It¡¯s barbaric is what it is. And, it¡¯s because of a quest. A really average looking one at that. It seems like it¡¯s a generic generated quest that builds on the wolves quest I finished. It¡¯s a grinding quest. Simple as that. A pity it¡¯s twice the work for less rewards. But, I don¡¯t complain. The rewards are still good.


    As long as the beasts don¡¯t start to hunt my workers again¡­


    It¡¯s now been three days since that event, actually; and, I¡¯ve spent the time preparing.


    I managed to grind myself two more levels to my [Crossbow Specialization], six levels to [Riding] and another level to [Tracking]. Yeah, I got bored one day when I was out running with Scarfang. Ooh! And, I also gained a new ability for [Riding]. I can now use [Charge]. It¡¯s not as fancy as one would expect; but, it gives me a significant movement speed bonus when attacking an enemy head on.


    I don¡¯t think I will use it much... If the charge didn¡¯t kill me, then Gut would afterwards.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    At least grinding skill points is a lot quicker now that I dumped even more points into my [Trainer] stat. I¡¯ve seen quite a huge bonus to skill level acquisition already among my troops.


    Gut also eventually explained the meaning behind the [Gold Coin]s. It seems like NPC-beasts drop their own form of currency. Gold Coins. Who would have guessed? Apparently, I can spend the coins if I build a [Marketplace]. I can exchange them for upgrades or resources. It goes without saying that I can also sell excess resources for more coins there. Hooray for capitalism, am I right?


    But, who cares! It¡¯s a new day, with new opportunities. Just let me get all the boring stuff out of the way first.


    I¡¯ve been producing buildings front, left and center these last few days. The increased skill levels of my [Builder]s have skyrocketed; and, the results are undeniable. I swear, my first days in this game was excruciating compared to this. Back then, it could take me two to three days to complete a building. Now, I can do it in one. Do you know how sick that is?


    If I keep this speed up, I¡¯ll have built everything I need by the end of the month.


    That¡¯s a real kicker, isn¡¯t it?


    The game isn¡¯t that simple. It never is. How could you think otherwise, you noob?


    Of course I can produce buildings quickly. The problem is, my buildings are crap. Literally. They are hastily erected hovels created from a minimal amount of resources. They give me small bonuses and provide for nothing more than my most basic needs. Hell, the quality of these buildings is so poor, a hastily thrown fart is enough to cause the building to collapse upon itself.


    Just like everything else in this game, the buildings are tiered. Better quality buildings give better bonuses and, in turn, cost a hell of a lot more to build. Both in resources and time. They are worth it though, no doubt about it. The little shacks and hovels I have now are just to get my production capabilities active. They are just mere placeholders for the real deal.


    We wouldn¡¯t want the game to stagnate out of boredom would we?


    No, sir. No we do not.


    I¡¯m just going to keep building all the basics and adjust thereafter.


    Yup.


    So during the last three days, I built a few more shoddy buildings. First of all, I finished building the [Bowyer¡¯s Hut] to start producing myself some ranged weaponry. Finally. I really wasted way too much time doing needless shit before I built this one. I¡¯m still kind of beating myself up over it.


    Ah, well. Better late than never, I guess.


    Next up, to Gut¡¯s dismay, I once more decided to throw in another wild hunch from the sidelines. I¡¯ve neglected the entire morale aspect of the game for a while. With the large influx I¡¯ve had of goblins lately, I figured it¡¯s about time I doubled the available lodgings for my men. The huge morale deficit I ramped up by having them sleep outside has been killing me.


    I corrected this by building another [Longhouse]. That¡¯s thirty more goblins that can sleep inside for those of you who are counting.


    Since this building didn¡¯t take too long to build, I also built myself a [Watchtower] to the north of my base. I¡¯ve been neglecting security for too long already. It would be nice to get an earlier notice if enemies are approaching, after all. Every second counts. I probably shouldn¡¯t have built it this early; but, the resource cost and time required to build was negligible. It¡¯s a nice platform to place my ranged units on in case of an attack as well.


    And, no. I¡¯m not putting the [Fire Mage] up there alone. I¡¯m not stupid.


    Finally, I started building the [Barracks]. And yes, Gut still gave me the stink eye. I¡¯m not sure what his problem is. Can the [Altar] really be that great?


    ...


    Meh.


    I have to make decisions that I think are best. If I weigh my choices, and considering how many troops I have spawned these last few days, then I¡¯m definitely correct that I need to focus more heavily on getting the skillgain bonuses for my troops.


    And, it¡¯s going to be finished just in time for me to spawn my daily batch of goblins. Hot giggedy!


    Oh, yes, the goblins. I spawned a lot more of those green little buggers. The first day I naturally had to spawn myself three [Bowyer]s to start grinding those production skill levels. I also spawned myself three goblin [Fighter]s to start practising to become archers. It took a few hours for the [Bowyer]s to actually finish the bows, though. So, the [Fighter]s had a lot of time to practice their [Concealment] levels along with the new [Scout]s.


    Oh, yeah, the two new scouts finished their training last night! More on that later¡­


    The next day I spawned another three [Fighter]s to start practicing to become archers. I also spawned three [Hunter]s to keep up with food production. I decided to go all out on recruiting [Hunter]s over [Forager]s because the [Hunter]s produce both leather for my armorers and feathers for my bowyers. Counting the food, that¡¯s three resources in one. It¡¯s a great day to be a goblin with my thirty percent bonus to hunting!


    And, today¡­ Today it¡¯s time to spawn six more of these little devil spawns. I think I¡¯m going to focus more on melee units. My supply of meat shields¡­ I mean, stalwart defenders, are running low.


    ¡°Chieftain!¡± One of my goblin builders interrupts me. His copper hammer resting over his shoulder. ¡°Your barracks is completed. Do you have a new project for us?¡±


    Ooh! Perfect timing!


    ¡°Awesome, thanks dude!¡± I beam at the goblin. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ I believe it¡¯s time for you to start making that [Altar]. How fast can you have it done?¡±


    The goblin takes a moment to think. Scratching his beardless chin. Is this guy stealing my moves?


    ¡°I think we can have it finished by midday tomorrow.¡± He eventually says smiling.


    ¡°Great! Do that then.¡± I laugh as the goblin salutes me and heads off.


    ¡°Ooh! And one more thing!¡± I shout after the goblin. His head pops back through the door. ¡°Tell Gut what you¡¯re working on. It should please that wrinkly old bastard.¡± I grin.


    ¡°Aye aye, Chief!¡± The goblin salutes me again before he heads off. Leaving me to chuckle alone.


    Allright! Where was I?


    Ah. Summoning me some new [Fighter]s. Let me just bring up the good old summoning window¡­


    Summon units.


    Available SP: 12


    SP generated per day: 12


    Goblin Fighter: Cost 2 SP


    Goblin Warrior: Cost 2 SP


    Goblin Worker: Cost 2 SP


    Gray Forest Wolf: Cost 2 SP


    My jaw drops.


    That can¡¯t be right. I rub my eyes for a few seconds before I read through my summon list once more.


    ¡­


    What. The. Fuck.


    Are you for real? I can summon fresh new [Goblin Warrior]s straight from the get go!? WHAT THE HELL MAN!? ¡­ How?


    ¡°GUT!¡± I shout with all my might.


    I breathe heavily for half a minute until I can hear the familiar hobbling sound of Gut approaching from outside the door.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Reckless One?¡± He says, his grip tight around his staff in case of an enemy attack.


    I go into an unnecessarily loud explanation of what I just learned, using far too many expletives and outraged hand gestures. Gut listens in silence, cupping his chin with his right hand.


    ¡°I see.¡± He mumbles as my explanation comes to an end. ¡°This is all natural, Reckless One. After gaining a new class of units, you will similarly unlock a corresponding military building to train more of that class. It will speed up their training immensely, but it will also lock their class paths going forwards. I thought you understood this, as the barracks only unlocked after you gained your first [Warrior]?¡±


    My jaw drops once more.


    ¡­


    I open up my list of buildings and narrow down the list to only show me my available military buildings.


    Barracks


    Basic military building. Grants 10% increase to Melee Mastery level acquisition.


    Allows for basic military units to be trained.


    80 Pinewood, 20 Stone, 50 Grass, 5 Pelt


    Scout¡¯s Tower


    Basic Military Building. Grants 10% increase to Tracking level acquisition.


    Allows for basic military units to be trained.


    80 Pinewood, 20 Stone, 20 Grass


    Mage¡¯s Tower


    Military building. Grants 20% increase to Spell Mastery level acquisition.


    Allows for military units to be trained.


    60 Marble, 20 oak, 40 Stone, 10 Clay Tiles, 5 Pelts


    Hrmpfglmrf!


    Really, game!? What¡¯s up with these descriptions. ¡®Allows for military units to be trained¡¯ my ass. How vague can you get? I always just dismissed that part for it being geared towards skill grinding specific soldier types. It doesn¡¯t say anything about unlocking classes for fresh spawns!


    ¡°GUT!¡± I shout once more, startling the old mage. ¡°The description is a lie!¡±


    ¡°Keep it down, will you? And calm yourself. You are more hysterical than a mermaid with her tail stuck in a fishing net.¡± He grumbles. ¡°And, grab hold of your damn ballsack. Are you a chieftain or a witless worm?¡±


    ¡°Hey fuck you too man. I have every right to be upset about this shit.¡± I curse as I thrash around a little.


    *Smack*


    Oww fuck!


    ¡°You little fucker! Come here you¡­¡±


    *Smack*


    ¡°Okay fucking stop it already!¡± I yell as I massage the double sided bump on my head.¡± I swear, my [Leather Cap] is useless.


    I sit down in my chieftain¡¯s chair and caress my hairless head. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you kept this information from me¡­¡± I mumble as I throw an accusing glance towards Gut. ¡°Do you know how many days it takes to grind the [Warrior]s up to weapon specialisation level ten? Four fucking days man. That¡¯s four days we could spend hunting down our enemies, or get even stronger.¡±


    ¡°What are you talking about, Reckless One? They don¡¯t gain any extra skill points¡­¡± He says while looking at me as if I¡¯m an idiot. Which I probably am, because I just give him an empty stare back.


    ¡­


    He sighs.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you spawn some [Warrior]s, and you¡¯ll see¡­¡± He mutters while shaking his head. Cursing my incompetence between every breath.


    I do as he says. And, soon there are six fresh new [Goblin Warrior]s standing in front of me.


    I stare at Gut again.


    ¡°Now inspect them.¡± He sighs.


    Goblin Warrior


    Class: Warrior


    Perk: None


    Morale: 10%


    Skills


    Class skill (Passive): [Enhanced Strength]


    Melee Mastery: Level 10


    Huh.


    It seems like the benefits weren¡¯t as great as I first feared.


    ¡­


    Never thought I¡¯d say that sentence.


    Apparently, the warriors only gain [Melee Mastery] when I spawn them, and not any levels in weapon specialization. This sort of makes sense I guess. It seems like I can¡¯t spawn natural killing machines right off the bat after all. Just a bunch of soldiers that gain skill levels at a much quicker pace. Not bad. I think this will effectively halve the amount of time it takes for them to reach an acceptable level of competence with a weapon.


    That¡¯s pretty sick, really. And, it does speed up my development a lot.


    One thing is clear¡­


    I need more of these buildings. ASAP. I quickly look over the other military building options available to me. The [Scout¡¯s Tower] and the [Mage¡¯s Tower]. I suppose they are only available because, apart from the [Warrior] class, I¡¯ve only unlocked the [Scout] and [Mage] classes. Wow. I just got a new incentive to try and gain as many new classes as possible. I can¡¯t wait for my cavalry and archers to unlock their classes.


    I need these buildings. The [Mage¡¯s Tower] is out of the question at the moment. I still haven¡¯t gained most of the materials needed for this building. And, there doesn¡¯t seem to be a lesser version of it. I guess I¡¯m not supposed to have a bunch of magicians running around at this point?


    Hmm.


    At least the [Scout¡¯s Tower] is available. I didn¡¯t build this earlier because of the increased cost and build time. But, I definitely have my eye on it now. It¡¯s the first building I¡¯m making after Gut¡¯s beloved [Altar] is done.


    Or maybe I can postpone it? I don¡¯t really plan on recruiting any more [Scout]s anytime soon.


    We¡¯ll see.


    ...


    At some point, anyway.


    Anyway! With all that boring stuff out of the way, let me tell you of all the heart blazing action that has been going on for these last three days.


    Due to my new unwanted fame, I have sighted several enemy scouts inside my territory. I obviously ran into Lydia and the Swift Mist herd from the north; but, I also ran into and brutally murdered a human scout that came in from the northwest. The poor guy didn¡¯t see it coming until I hit him in the shoulder with a crossbow bolt and Scarfang proceeded to tear his throat out. It was a quick kill; but, he did take a whole lot of damage before he succumbed. Higher tier races are scary.


    A coalition between a human scout and a demon warrior from the northeast managed to reach all they way to my base before my sentries spotted them. Sadly enough, they managed to escape. A well placed [Fireball] from Gut incinerated one of the demon¡¯s wings though.


    Finally, I met a dryad that came in from the west. It must have been some sort of a [Mage] because, as soon as I ordered the attack, the dryad cast some insane spell that created a barrier of thorns between us. She was gone by the time we managed to make our way around it.


    So yeah. Things are really starting to heat up. And, it¡¯s scary as hell that there don¡¯t seem to be many tier one races left in the vicinity. When I brought up the list of already defeated players, I noticed how the majority of the dead players seemed to indeed be tier one races. Combining that with the logical fact that most people would avoid playing as a lesser race, I doubt there are many of us left.


    The bottom line is that it might become really busy around here soon. I need some more defences¡­ or more [Scout]s. Yeah, probably the latter. Should I teach them how to use the bow?


    Yeah, why not? It would keep them reasonably safe, and marginally increase my combat potential.


    I¡¯ll get right to it.


    My [Scout]s have been busy these last few days too. They managed to scout a larger portion of my territory in all directions. We found the two beastlairs that spawned nearby. There¡¯s a cave full of spiders to my east, near the border to Harvalon¡¯s former territory. Yeah I know. It sort of completes the trifecta of low level fantasy creatures doesn¡¯t it? There is always spiders, wolves and goblins in every game. Why would this game do anything different? It would be silly if they weren¡¯t here I suppose.


    There¡¯s also an aquatic type of monster to my north along one of the bends in the river. It¡¯s some sort of waterdevil creature called a ¡®Draug¡¯. They look like armless toads that lurk in shallow water using two vine looking tentacles to snag their unsuspecting prey underwater if they come too close. It sounds super creepy; but, I won¡¯t turn down a great source of experience points.


    Which is why I sent Gut, Wrex, all my veteran warriors, my main [Scout], two [Fire Mage]s, a [Blood Mage] and all six of the archers to wipe out the spider lair yesterday morning.


    I could have gone myself¡­ But, hell no. Spiders freak me the fuck out. There¡¯s just no way I¡¯m going anywhere near the place. If a creature has more than four legs, it¡¯s a big no-no in my book. I told Gut to burn those bastards with fire.


    Lots of fire.


    It took some convincing to make Gut leave without me; but, I managed to mollify him by promising to have Scarfang by my side at all times, and run away at the first sight of trouble. Which means that Scarfang and I spent some time picnicking by the lake the whole afternoon. They returned later in the evening reporting their successful extermination of the spider¡¯s lair. With no reported casualties nonetheless!


    Turns out fire really is a spider¡¯s weakness in any game. Thank you for that, Green Baby Jesus.


    I think I¡¯m gonna have my death squad go wipe out the draug today. I could use the extra Summon Points sooner rather than later.


    I figure it¡¯s about time to head south.


    To war.

 Chapter 23 – Emerging Shadow

    Chapter 23 ¨C Emerging Shadow


    Last night went as great as one could expect.


    Gut and the gang returned from a nearly successful hunt of the draug lair to the north. I say nearly because one of my pending archers didn¡¯t pay enough attention and managed to get himself eaten by the draug boss. How that even happened is beyond me. But, I¡¯ve learned not to expect too much from these green little defiers of Darwin¡¯s Law.


    I received the expected quest completed notification and had eighteen delicious Summon Points to spend. By the time my people were enjoying their dinner, my population increased by one [Mason], two [Miner]s, two [Blacksmith]s and four archers-in-training. It¡¯s a decent haul.


    I received yet another quest to clear out three more beast lairs this time, confirming my suspicion that it¡¯s indeed an increasing repeatable quest. A pity I still only gain eighteen points of SP for completing it, though. Add that together with the fact that the experience points earned weren¡¯t enough to tip me over to the next level and I was a little disheartened. But, not by much. I¡¯m still doing really well here.


    All four of my new [Mage]s also gained enough experience to level up from the raids, gaining their classes. I didn¡¯t use the riders during the raids, but I expect them to break through the class barrier during the day. Things are really looking up!


    Today¡¯s a new day; and, I have great plans! It¡¯s about time I try and clear out my biome after all. I¡¯m currently the leading player, or so I suspect at least. It would be idiotic of me not to try and capitalize on that as much as humanly possible. The game¡¯s momentum is on my side.


    No matter the urgency of action, however, I still have a lot of small little knick knacks to take care of before I can head off. As always, I start the day by spawning more units. I spawn a [Leatherworker], four new [Warrior]s and because I just want to try stuff out, another [Gray Forest Wolf]. This time, however, I decide to make it a beast type, trying to figure out if it¡¯s worth it.


    A flashing light surrounds the wolf for a brief moment; and, when the light fades, a slightly altered wolf is standing before me sniffing its front left paw. Whereas the mount type of wolves grew slightly in size, the beast type has certain other alterations. First of all, both its fangs and claws increased slightly in size, and the body seemed to more more lean with densely packed muscles hidden under matted fur.


    I immediately get the impression that this beast type of wolf is designed to be a deadly predator, capable of moving silently through the forest and strike at unsuspecting foes before they even realize they are being stalked.


    I whistle in satisfaction as I take a step forwards trying to get a better look of the wolf¡¯s new capabilities.


    The wolf tenses up as I get close to it. It regards me carefully with its sharp blue eyes, uncertain of my intent. It makes no hostile moves, however. After a tense few minutes, it eventually seems to accept me. It takes a step forwards and happily starts sniffing my brand new leather armor. I drag my rugged hand across its soft fur.


    Damn, that feels soft...


    ¡°Who¡¯s a good girl?¡± I grin as I start scratching her behind the ear. I pick up a nearby twig and toss it a dozen meters into the open clearing behind me.


    ¡°Go fetch!¡± I smile at the wolf.


    My smile soon falters as the wolf just stands there, looking at me weirdly. Okay¡­ I guess dog logic might not apply to wolves.


    ¡°... Sit?¡± I can¡¯t help but make the order sound like a question. The wolf still just stares at me with a blank expression.


    ¡°Oh for the love of... Follow me.¡± I turn around and start walking off. After a few steps, I look back over my shoulder. The damn wolf is still standing still. Staring at me with those same empty eyes.


    ¡°What the hell? Is this thing broken?¡± I growl in annoyance as I stomp back towards the wolf.


    ¡°You need to assign a handler to the wolf.¡± A voice chimes in from behind me. I turn around to see Gut standing idly by, casually leaning against his staff while he observes my antics with a slight hint of amusement.


    I feel like throwing some clever remark back at him to wipe the smirk off his lips; but, I manage to suppress the urge through willpower alone. I¡¯m not sure if I can fit more staff-imprinted bumps on my head.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I ask the old mage.


    ¡°Inspect it, and you shall see.¡± He shakes his head, still smirking.


    The little bastard is testing my patience¡­


    Gray Forest Wolf


    Type: Beast


    Handler: Not assigned


    Skills: None


    Handler, huh?


    The mounts didn¡¯t have that option. I scratch my head.


    I could ask Gut what this means¡­ But, I don¡¯t really want to give that jerk the satisfaction of lecturing me again. So, I have to ask myself; what does it mean? The answer must obviously lie in the fact that they are different types of wolves. Or beast classes if I can be so bold. I suppose it has to do with the utility of the creature. The mount is¡­ well. Just a mount. It can carry a goblin from point A to point B. Simple. The beast type, though, must have some hidden function. Possibly functions, as in plural.


    I assume anyone can use the mount, so that¡¯s why it doesn¡¯t have a handler. The beasts, though, seems to be a bit more complicated. They have to have a unique function or else it would be pointless for me to even bother investing in them when I can spawn weapon wielding goblins instead. I¡¯m going to trust my gut on this one. The beast will in some way compliment the skills of its handler.


    Question is, who am I to assign as a new handler? Can I unlock a beast tamer class of some sort? Is the wolf just utility based? Can it enhance tracking abilities, or is it merely there for combat purposes? So many questions...


    I ask Gut if he has any suggestions of who to assign the wolf to. The mage just shrugs with indifference.


    ¡­


    Too bad I don¡¯t have a freshly spawned [Fighter] to hand it over to. I¡¯m kind of still holding back on trying to take away a [Fighter] from his archery training.


    Ah, fuck it. If you don¡¯t risk anything, you won¡¯t win.


    A few orders and a couple of minutes later, one my new archer recruits stands before me. I open up the wolf¡¯s status window and mentally tap the handler option. When I select the fighter, a notification appears.


    Attention!


    Requirements for assigning a handler to [Gray Forest Wolf (Beast)] not met.


    Requirements needed: A unit with an appropriate class.


    Oh come on!


    It does answer the question. But, nonetheless, come the fuck on!


    Appropriate class? How annoyingly vague. I decide to let my frustrations out on a small pebble in front of me, sending it flying with a good kick. It bounces harmlessly off the [Barrack]¡¯s wall.


    So where does that leave me? I could assign myself as the handler; but, I really don¡¯t want to. I have enough skills to try and level already; and, the wolf just seems like a whole buttload of work that I really don¡¯t have time for.


    I look around my village. I don¡¯t have many different classes walking around. I have a bunch of [Warrior]s; but, I don¡¯t see the benefit of taking away their time to run around and train with a wolf. The same goes for the [Mage]s, obviously. So¡­ a scout? Huh. Why not? They don¡¯t seem to have too much to do, and I¡¯ll bet my left nut that beast taming is appropriate for the class.


    I order a nearby goblin to go and find the female scout. Her skills have been invaluable to me so far so I can¡¯t see why I shouldn¡¯t reward her for her hard work.


    As the nervous looking scout arrives a few minutes later, I waste no time assigning the beast to her. No error message appears to tell me it fails this time; and, the wolf is soon jumping joyously around licking the female scout¡¯s large green nose. I spot a small smile on the scout¡¯s lips.


    ¡°T-thank you, Ggreat Chieftain!¡± She mumbles under her breath. Diverting her eyes away from mine, but still giving me a small nod of appreciation.


    ¡°No problem, Sweetie.¡± I grin at her. I start to chuckle as her green cheeks blushes crimson red.


    ¡°Jokes aside, what can you tell me of the bond between you and the wolf?¡± I inquire. This stuff is fascinating.


    ¡°Uhm.¡± She pauses to think. ¡°Nothing, I think¡­ At least not yet. I think we need some time.¡± She mutters.


    I click my tongue in disappointment. I didn¡¯t expect there to be any difference yet, but I was hoping for a small boon¡­ The fool that I am.


    ¡°Can you handle more than one wolf?¡± I ask her as a thought crosses my mind.


    ¡°N-no. At least not yet.¡± She stammers, too much of her blood trapped in her cheeks. ¡°I-I believe I can after some time¡­¡±


    ¡°Great! Tell me when something changes!¡± I say as I walk away, leaving the new couple to their own devices. They¡¯ll figure out what to do. Probably.


    I¡¯m followed by Gut who soon hobbles his way up to my side, clearing his throat loudly to garner my attention.


    ¡°Reckless One, I have more tasks that need to be attended to.¡± He says.


    Of course he does. There¡¯s always something. It seems like every time I want to go out on an expedition, something new comes up. I¡¯m starting to suspect Gut is making shit up just to keep me planted safely inside the base.


    I grunt at him to proceed.


    ¡°Two of your goblin [Warrior]s have reached the requirements to swap their classes if you wish.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°What?¡± I snap my head towards him. ¡°Who?¡±


    He clears his throat while he signals for two nearby [Warrior]s to approach. They are both dagger wielding goblins.And, I recognize the armor on one of them to be the goblin that saved my life during the fight in the woods against Qargon¡¯s advisor.


    I don¡¯t wait for Gut to proceed, and immediately inspect the dagger wielding warrior.


    Goblin Warrior


    Class: Warrior (Class Swap possible)


    Perk: Deft Hands


    Morale: 10%


    Skills


    Class skill (Passive): [Enhanced Strength]


    Melee Mastery: Level 16


    -Dagger Specialization: Level 16


    --[Backstab]


    --[Throw Dagger]


    --[Slice & Dice]


    Utility Mastery: Level 10


    -Concealment: Level 10


    --[Sneak]


    -Tracking: Level 3


    Woah! He wasn¡¯t lying. I can swap classes? Cool! I also notice through the corner of my eye that [Concealment] has a sub skill of its own after reaching level ten.


    But, holy crap! I quickly select the class swap option and glue my eyes to the blue prompt.


    [Rogue]


    Unlock Criteria: [Concealment] level 10. [Dagger Specialization] level 5.


    Gain: Possibility of raising mastery levels above 10. 50% increase to [Utility Mastery] acquisition. 50% increase to [Dagger Specialization] acquisition. Unique passive ability: [Enhanced Stealth].


    Lose: 75% decrease to [Spell Mastery] acquisition. 50% decrease to Melee Specializations except for [Dagger Specialization].


    Warning!


    Choosing this class will cause the unit to lose all accumulated skill levels in [Spell Mastery]. [Ranged Mastery] with all corresponding specializations will be reduced to level 5. All Melee Specializations except for [Dagger Specialization] will be lost.


    My jaw drops.


    ¡°YES!!!¡± I scream, startling Gut and the [Warrior]s.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°This is amazing! I didn¡¯t know I could change the classes!¡± I roar in delight as I slap my hand on Gut¡¯s shoulder. It saves me so much time finding new classes! This is just so great! I can¡¯t believe how eas-


    ¡­


    ¡°Gut¡­¡± I mumble to the old mage, the joy all but gone from my face. ¡°What¡¯s the downsides of swapping classes?¡±


    Gut nods. A proud smile on his face.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you have become more open minded about these matters, Reckless One. I was afraid that your habit of leaping-without-looking would never disappear.¡± He nods sagely. ¡°There are indeed some downsides. Since [Rogue] is a new class that is not connected to the [Warrior] development tree, the same restrictions will apply when assigning a fresh class.¡±


    ¡°Which means¡­?¡±


    He clears his throat. ¡°In this case¡­ All levels above level ten will be lost, reckless one.¡±


    My stomach drops. I look back over the goblin¡¯s status screens. They are both at [Dagger Specialization] level fifteen and sixteen respectively. That means they would both lose five and six levels by swapping classes. I¡¯m not gonna lie. It irks me. That¡¯s a week¡¯s worth of hard work. But, then again¡­


    They are wielding daggers. Fighting on the frontlines with those short little pointy sticks of metal sounds like a waste in itself. My mind wanders over to the size of Lydia. I shiver. I don¡¯t think a dagger wielding front line fighter like a goblin could do much to a creature of that size. He probably wouldn¡¯t even get close.


    Rogue though. Assassin¡¯s in the making. That class focuses specifically on using daggers. It¡¯s perfect. And noticing how they can now actually use sneak on top of the concealment... It¡¯s invaluable.


    With my mind made up, I decide to upgrade both of the dagger wielding [Warrior]s into full blown [Rogue]s. A short flash of light surround the goblins for a moment, before it dissipates. Leaving two grinning [Rogue]s in their stead.


    A quick inspect shows that both their [Melee Mastery] and [Dagger Specialization]s have been reduced to level ten. It causes my heart to ache; but, I know it¡¯s the correct decision.


    I hope¡­


    ¡°Now then!¡± I clap my hands together. ¡°What else?¡± I grin at the old mage.


    ¡°Hrmmf.¡± He growls. ¡°After the latest additions to your tribe, our population has reached ninety-eight.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? Sweet. So what?¡±


    He stares at me with a deadpan look. ¡°What that means¡­¡± He says while empathizing the word ¡®means¡¯ as if I¡¯m a complete moron. ¡°Is that you can now promote another one of your units to become a Lieutenant.¡±


    My eyes light up. Damn. He¡¯s right! What the hell is wrong with me? How did I forget?


    A new lieutenant. Wow. It feels like it¡¯s been months since I upgraded Wrex. Hell, I think Scarfang also counts as some sort of lieutenant. I can¡¯t believe it¡¯s finally time to get another higher grade V.I unit. I swear, conversations have become a little dull around here lately. Only being able to talk to two different people for two weeks is mentally exhausting. Especially when one of them is a racist old grandpa with a hobby of physically and verbally abusing me every moment he gets and the other is a battle crazed military wannabe. I swear it can tear at anyone''s psyche over time.


    I take a moment of silence praying for a more approachable V.I companion.


    Right.


    But, who do I choose?


    I rack my brain, trying to come up with potential candidates. I can go in three directions with my lieutenants. I can either get another commander, a specialist or a foreman. I would still say that a foreman is out of the picture as I can¡¯t see how I can benefit from having one at these early stages of the game.


    Gut has promised me green woods and mounds of gold for the future potential of the specialist type. That¡¯s all well and good but, I don¡¯t see any immediate benefit. So far I don¡¯t know how to best utilize them, even though Gut strongly hints that choices will unlock for me with the altar I¡¯m going to get later today. I¡¯m certain I¡¯m going to be mind blown. And, if I¡¯m not, then I¡¯ll really have to sit down and have a talk with Gut about managing my expectations¡­


    So, specialists is a good option. However, I could really use another commander type of lieutenant. I¡¯ve had a rapid influx of soldiers in the last few days, and I need to organize them into war parties. Wrex can only lead a small amount of goblins so far, and he needs to be in direct command of his units for the skill to activate. It gives them a good boost to their effectiveness; but, Wrex can only be in one place at a time. We could really use the utility of having more war parties moving about; and, for that, I need more commanders.


    Besides, both Gut and I are already specialists. That should be enough for the foreseeable future when it comes to figuring out what the hell specialists can really do.


    Which leads to the actual decision.


    Who the hell do I promote?


    I don¡¯t have that many possible candidates in mind. I can think of several goblins. While some have merits, there are also several downsides I need to take into consideration. There is no doubt in my mind that some goblins are better choices than others; but, there is also a personal preference factor chiming in. Choosing the wrong goblin to promote can have serious repercussions.


    ¡­


    Ah, crap.


    A crowd has started to gather around us, no doubt sensing that something big is about to happen. I can see Wrex walking up to the front of the crowd, grinning widely at me.


    ¡°What seems to be the problem chief?¡± Wrex asks. His far-too-cheerful-and-carefree grin giving me the urge to flip him off.


    What seems to be the problem? Oh gee¡­ I¡¯m just trying to make important decisions that might make us all survive to the end of the game¡­ Nothing big.


    ¡­


    Jackass.


    ¡°Are you perhaps trying to decide who to promote, Reckless One?¡± Gut chimes in from the side. ¡°I have several good suggestions if you would just listen¡­¡±


    ¡°Promote?¡± Wrex interrupts. ¡°Well, don¡¯t worry about it chief! I already have three of my strongest subordinates ready to take on the duty of command. Would you like me to bring them over?¡±


    Huh? When did these two become this¡­ helpful?


    ¡°Who do you have in mind?¡± I ask. A part of me dreading the answers.


    Gut loudly clears his throat. ¡°As you may have noticed, Reckless One, our¡­ your goblins are in need of a clear command structure. You should promote one of your strongest and valuable troops for this honor. Naturally, the senior [Fire Mage] is the clear choice for this position.¡±


    ¡°A [Mage]!?¡± Wrex spits on the ground. ¡°I¡¯d rather stick my member into the mouth of one of those mangy wolves you have running around the tribe. Your next lieutenant obviously needs to be a strong leader. A [Warrior] would be the obvious-¡±


    ¡°A [Warrior]? Are you daft? We have enough of those muscle brains running about. We need someone of higher intelligence. The [Mage]-¡±


    ¡°ENOUGH!¡± I yell.


    Djeezes. When did these two suddenly become so enthusiastic about¡­ anything other than whacking me with a stick or killing things?


    ¡°I don¡¯t need another [Warrior] lieutenant. I need to have more flexibility than that. And, I¡¯d rather just quit this damn game before I let that little fire jerk anywhere near a position of power.¡±


    They both stare at me with indignant expressions on their faces. I return their stares with an angry glare of my own.


    ¡°Then perhaps the [Blood Mage]?¡± Gut eventually asks.


    ¡°Maybe. But I¡¯d like you to consider the other candidates as well.¡±


    Wrex raises his eyebrow skeptically. ¡°And, which candidates might that be?¡±


    ¡°First of all, the [Scout] is a strong option. I was thinking of-¡±


    ¡°The [Scout]!?¡± Wrex gasps. ¡°Surely you jest?¡±


    I give him a hard stare. ¡°No, I do not. And, I¡¯d rather prefer it if you never inter-¡±


    ¡°Impossible!¡± Gut hijacks the conversation. ¡°Goblin society dictates that no lower ranked goblin may attain a position of power without having achieved a major contribution which benefits the tribe as a whole. Even considering her is at the very least, absurd.¡± He crosses his arms. Scowling at me.


    I glare daggers at the [Mage]. How dare these fuckers interrupt me and trying to tell me how to play the game? Isn¡¯t the whole point of the game that I¡¯m supposed to make every single major decision around here? What is even the point if the V.I¡¯s won¡¯t even let me play the way I want?


    ¡°Cut the shit, Gut. If I say she is a candidate, she is. Last time I checked, I was the chieftain. Not you. Besides, she has already made several contributions to the tribe. Without her, the attack on Qargon might never have happened at all. It was she who found the enemy. It was she who located all their troops. It was she who supplied the information that allowed us to besiege their cave.¡±


    Wrex snorts. ¡°That may be, but her contribution in the actual fighting was non-existent. The only kill she managed to attain was from a severely wounded and unarmed kobold. I distinctly recall how her cowardly actions nearly cost you your life in the battle in the bog. I won¡¯t accept a coward in a position of power. She is no true goblin.¡± He spits on the ground once more.


    Oh for fuck¡¯s sake. This god damn constant whining about achievements and hierarchical positions. I¡¯ve had it.


    ¡°Listen here you little twerp¡­¡±


    *Ahem!* Gut clears his throat loudly. Both of our heads snap towards Gut simultaneously.


    ¡°If I may ask, Reckless One, which other candidates did you have in mind?¡±


    Glaring angrily at him for a moment for interrupting me once more. I look away, closing my eyes for a moment and let my boiling anger cool down. I¡¯m still pissed off; but, I¡¯m also glad Gut averted a really nasty scene.


    I take a few deep breaths before I continue.


    To be honest, I have no fucking clue who else is a good candidate. I don¡¯t really have too big of a pool of goblins to choose from. Even less so if I¡¯m only to choose from goblins that have already attained a class. I don¡¯t really want to promote another [Warrior]. The only viable mage candidate is a complete asshole. I like the [Scout], but there is clearly a lot of opposition to that idea.


    Seriously. I¡¯m of half a mind to just tell them to fuck right off and do what I say. She is the best option. The only other option would in that case be my newly minted [Rogue]¡­


    Huh¡­ The [Rogue]¡­


    Why not?


    ¡°Our new [Rogue].¡± I state clearly.


    ¡°The [Rogue]?¡± Gut mutters. He seems deep in thought for a moment before he shakes his head. ¡°No. While his position in the ranking is higher than the [Scout], his strength is currently much weaker than the other candidates. He wouldn¡¯t be respected. He would need to have gained a great achievement to make up for his lack of strength. As far as I know, he hasn¡¯t. What do you think, Wrex?¡±


    The warrior scratches his chin, apparently deep in thought. ¡°Maybe. It¡¯s good that he was once a [Warrior]. I can definitely vouch for his skills in combat. It¡¯s a major loss that he lost most of his power after swapping classes. I fear it might not be enough to warrant a promotion though¡­¡± He trails off.


    ¡°Hold on a second.¡± I raise my hands. ¡°The [Rogue] does have an achievement under his belt.¡±


    The two goblins look surprised.


    ¡°What achievement?¡± Gut asks puzzled.


    ¡°During the battle with the kobolds in the bog. He saved my life from certain death not once, but twice. If it hadn¡¯t been for him, we would all have perished in that fight.¡±


    ¡°He did that?¡± Gut asks surprised, looking to Wrex for confirmation. Wrex shrugs.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. He might have. I arrived late.¡± The [Warrior] says. ¡°But, when you mention it¡­ I definitely remember most of the kobold corpses near the Chief died to stab wounds¡­¡± He mutters.


    I smile triumphantly.


    ¡°So that settles it then? You approve of the [Rogue]?¡±


    Wrex grunts. ¡°I¡¯d still recommend a [Warrior].¡±


    ¡°His position still doesn¡¯t compare to a [Mage].¡± Gut chimes in.


    Oh, for the love of¡­


    I close my ears and block out the following long tirade of arguments from my two senior subordinates. I mentally sigh.


    What is even going on here? Why are they even making suggestions of their own and arguing with my decisions? They haven¡¯t done that before. They aren¡¯t really insubordinate¡­ But, damn. The way they act and talk...


    I didn¡¯t expect them to emphasize the importance of hierarchical position or combat strength in their arguments. Perhaps it¡¯s just how their V.Is are scripted? They really made it seem like I can¡¯t just choose whomever I want as a Lieutenant. Can going against those two recommendations have a negative effect on my tribe as a whole? Does it really matter? Do I want to risk it?


    *Sigh*


    I won¡¯t get any further discussing the matter anymore. They did have some valuable input; but, in the end, I want the decision to be mine and mine alone.


    An hour ago, before this annoying conversation, my choice of lieutenant would have been clear. I¡¯d upgrade the female [Scout] in a heartbeat. I did briefly consider the [Fire Mage], but really¡­ That guy can fuck off.


    And, then¡­ A new character made itself known. One I had honestly completely forgotten about. Yep. The newly minted [Rogue] that saved my life during the fight against Qargon.


    Hmm¡­


    After listening to Gut and Wrex¡¯s council, I have narrowed down my options. The decision isn¡¯t easy. I have two candidates, and two directions to move.


    First off is the [Scout]. Despite the strong objections from Gut and Wrex, she is an excellent candidate for being a commander type of lieutenant as her high mobility alongside her ability to track enemies can turn her into a fierce raider. What keeps me away from committing to this decision however, is her new addition. The wolf. I really have no idea how that wolf will affect her future progression, and I fear I would be a fool not to have her as a specialist. I would love to know more.


    On the other side, is the [Rogue]. Anyone would say that a rogue should definitely always specialise. A strong rogue will make the strongest assassin after all. But, it¡¯s not that easy in this game. Not at all. I can¡¯t get around the fact that my goblins are in fact, a tier one race. Individually, the assassin might not be able to grow strong enough to easily assassinate a lieutenant from a tier three race. I already have a good hunch that there are hardly any tier one races left alive in this game; and, I don¡¯t think I can gamble too much on individual skill in the future. If I am going to go down the assassin¡¯s route, then I need to rely on hit squads and not the individual assassin. Which is why I consider creating a hit squad. And this force, obviously, needs a leader.


    But, it still feels like a waste.


    I still have a vague feeling after the discussion earlier. Can the choice of candidate really affect the tribes morale as Gut heavily implied? Or is it just a way for the developers to mess with my head. Or maybe it¡¯s just the V.I¡¯s playing out their pre-determined personality traits just to entertain the masses?


    I really hate how this game forces me to second guess myself all the time.


    My brain tells me to go for the [Scout] commander; but, my gut tells me to go for the [Rogue]. In the end, I just have to go with the flow.


    I make up my mind.


    With a strong resolve, I beckon for the nearby [Rogue] to approach. He dutifully steps forwards and lowers his head in respect.


    I put my hand on his shoulder and utter the same words I did when I promoted Wrex.


    ¡°As Chieftain of the Dark Fang Tribe, I hereby recognise your contribution to the tribe and bestow upon you the responsibilities of a Lieutenant amongst our kin. Will you accept this command?¡±


    The rogue raises his head, staring into my eyes with resolve.


    ¡°I will be your shadow, my lord.¡±


    Congratulations!


    You have successfully upgraded one of your goblins to a [Lieutenant]!


    Lieutenant class goblins will be seeded with a higher grade Virtual Intelligence unit.


    ----------


    Please select a [Lieutenant Sub-Class]:


    [Commander]


    [Specialist]


    [Foreman]


    ¡°There we go.¡± I smile.


    I quickly tap through the notifications and assign him as a new commander.


    Your [Lieutenant] has gained the [Commander] Sub-Class.


    Your [Lieutenant] title and [Commander] Sub-Class along with the cultural traits of your chosen race [Goblin] has merged into the [Raid Leader] Rank.


    ----------


    Would you like to name your [Raid Leader]?


    YES/NO


    Warning! Selecting NO will result in a name being chosen from a random name generator suitable to your race and previously chosen names.


    And, there we go. Back to the good old name generator. This time, I don¡¯t let the indecision paralyze me. I have the perfect name lined up. And, no, I didn¡¯t stay up one night and write down possible names for my Lieutenants. I¡¯m not that lame.


    I take a deep breath while I uncross the fingers behind my back.


    ¡°Your new name is Kain.¡±


    Congratulations!


    Your new [Raid Leader] has successfully been seeded with a higher grade Virtual Intelligence Unit!


    ----------


    Congratulations!


    Your new [Raid Leader] has been named Kain!


    ¡°Thank you, my lord. I will be your shadow. And when the time calls for it, your blade.¡± Kain bows to me. His sincerity resounding amongst the listening crowd.


    ¡°And, I am your shield.¡± Wrex steps forwards, taking up position besides Kain. He grins wickedly as he nods at me.


    As if on cue, Scarfang walks up to me and nudges me gently in my side. I let my hand rest on top of his head, softly scratching him behind his ear. Smiling, I look down at my wolf.


    ¡°I suppose you are my legs then?¡± I chuckle at the wolf. He barks happily, giving me a wolfy smile.


    ¡°I guess that leaves me as your brain... because you clearly lack one.¡± Gut muses from the side.


    ¡­


    ¡°Oh, fuck you!¡±

 Chapter 24 – Managing Expectations

    Chapter 24 ¨C Managing Expectations


    A few hours pass as we start preparing for the expedition down south. It¡¯s a careful balance of trying to figure out how many goblins I need to attack, and how many I need to leave behind to protect the village. It¡¯s a difficult decision with no good choice. No matter how I look at it, there is always a weakness when facing the unknown. There have been as many as four different players who have scouted me so far. Two of them clearly being allies of some sort.


    Taking stock of my units, I have forty one combat capable goblins and four wolves. This includes both me and the rest of my lieutenants. Excluding myself, I decide to just cut the numbers down the middle. Simple as that. I should be able to do plenty going south with over twenty strong. Worst comes to show, I can just retreat if I face overwhelming numbers after all.


    The biggest problem I have is to decide which lieutenants I should bring. As much as I want to bring them all, I just can¡¯t. I need at least one person with more than half a brain to stay behind and keep the village safe. There are just far too many numbnuts walking around. My first instinct is to leave Gut behind. He is by far the smartest of the bunch, and let¡¯s be completely honest. The guy is just going to bring my mood down all the way.


    I¡¯m not sure how he will take the news though. The guy made me promise not to leave him behind again. I don¡¯t think he will take to kindly to be left behind a second time. Perhaps I need to suck up to him some more?


    Meh.


    At the very least, I need to bring Scarfang with me. He can¡¯t stay behind and lead since¡­ you know... he¡¯s a wolf. I also need to bring at least one of the commanders with me. Wrex is the most optimal short term choice, seeing as his [Command] skill has risen to level three already. This means he can now bring fifteen goblins into his war party. That¡¯s a whole bunch more than what Kain can bring to the table with a war party cap at nine heads.


    But, then again, Kain could really use the experience. Though, his hard cap is just not optimal for the numbers I¡¯m bringing. I really want to bring both. It would give me more utility in my strategy, and they would both be able to grind some much needed levels.


    ...


    If only I didn¡¯t make that promise to the grumpy old mage.


    ¡­


    It couldn¡¯t hurt to ask him though, could it?


    I walk around the base and find the wrinkly old coot near the campsite, directing the logging crew to prioritize cutting down trees closer to the safety of the village during the entirety of the expedition. I take a moment to be grateful over the fact that Gut is really helpful with all these small details I somehow manage to miss myself.


    Gut notices my approach when I¡¯m only a few meters away. One look at my determined face is all it takes for Gut to assume his customary scowl. He straightens his back and crosses his arms across his torso. His eyes glare at me.


    I ignore the chilly sensation that crawls down my spine and figuratively grab hold of my balls. I can¡¯t back down now.


    ¡°Gut.¡± I say, raising my chin to meet his glare head on. ¡°I know I made a promise, but I would like to ask you to stay behind to protect the base while I head south.¡± I can feel some unknown force constricting my chest.


    Gut doesn¡¯t say anything. He just raises one of his eyebrows as his eyes remain as cold as ever.


    We stand in silence for god knows how many seconds. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll budge. Not an inch. I have to press forwards.


    Clearing my throat, I decide to push on. ¡°I don¡¯t want to leave you behind; but, analyzing the situation, you are by far the most capable of my companions to stay behind and protect the village. I need someone with the tactical sense to keep everyone safe, and the cold resolve to see it through.¡±


    The intensity of his glare only seems to increase. There¡¯s a voice in my mind screaming for me to pull out before it¡¯s too late. Begging me to stop talking before I get seriously hurt.


    Well, I¡¯ve never had a girlfriend, so I¡¯m doing what every man before me has done at one point or another¡­ I keep trying to reason with him.


    ¡°I need Wrex and Kain to level up their command skills. We need to think long term. And, at the moment, the best thing we can do is focusing our efforts on bolstering our troops.¡±


    Gut¡¯s nostrils seem to flare. My muscles tense as my mind scrambles to think of something. Anything.


    ¡°So¡­ If it¡¯s my safety you are worried about, Wrex, Kain and Scarfang will be able to keep me safe and away from harm''s way. Besides¡­ My safety will be seriously at risk in the long term if I lose the village. It can only be you.¡± I try my best to keep my voice from trembling.


    Gut¡¯s gaze seems to have lessened somewhat, but I fear not enough. He opens his mouth to respond when a casual voice interrupts us.


    ¡°Chieftain, the [Altar] has been completed. What do you need us to build next?¡±


    As an angel arriving at the eleventh hour, one of my [Builder]s approach us at a casual pace. Completely oblivious to the intense confrontation playing out in front of him.


    ¡°Oh thank god¡­¡± I whisper as I turn to face him. ¡°Please, just think about it for a moment, Gut. We¡¯ll talk after I deal with this.¡± I hurriedly walk over towards the mountain to check out my newest building. Gut follows suit, but says nothing.


    After a moment, we stand in front of a small pyramid with a flat top made out of rough cut stone. There is a small stone table at the top of the pyramid with the fur of a wolf covering it. Adorned on the back side of the table, the five skulls mounted on iron spikes creates an ominous feeling. A small wooden staircase has been erected up the center of the pyramid. To be honest, the entire thing sort of looks like the ghetto version of an aztec temple.


    Wasting no time, I climb the stairs and stand idly next to the rough stone table. I put my hands on it, and will the blue window to appear.


    Shrine


    Allows for rituals to be performed. Grants bonuses to individuals, or your tribe as a whole.


    Warning: Only [Specialist]s can learn new skills.


    Skulls:


    41 Small Skulls (Value: 2)


    1 Medium Skulls (Value: 3)


    0 Large Skulls (Value: 6)


    Skull Points: 85


    2 Special Skulls


    Auras:


    Aura of Blood: Cost: 10 Skull Points p/day or 1 Special Skull p/week.


    Grants a 10 percent faction wide bonus to attack power.


    Aura of Body: Cost: 10 Skull Points p/day or 1 Special Skull p/week.


    Grants a 10 percent faction wide bonus to defence.


    Skills:


    Skill Training: Cost: 40 Skull Points


    Trains a chosen skill to skill level 10.


    Skill Training v2: Cost: 80 Skull Points


    Trains a chosen skill to skill level 15.


    Invisibility: Cost 80 Skull Points or 1 Special Skull


    Grants the use the skill [Invisibility]. The skill allows for the user to turn invisible for one minute. It requires one second cast time and can only be used once per day. Warning: You are not allowed to attack for three seconds after the invisibility field is broken.


    Telepathic Communication: Cost: 20 Skull Points


    Description: Allows for a unit to communicate telepathically with allies inside the same biome.


    Warning: This skill can also be taught to non-specialists.


    Telepathic Communication v2: Cost 40 Skull Points


    Allows for a unit to communicate telepathically with allies across biomes.


    Upgrades:


    New magic affinity: Cost: 3 Special Skulls


    Grants a new magic affinity to the race. Warning: The new affinity will be related to your goblin nature.


    Heavy armor: Cost: 2 Special Skulls


    Description: Allows for your goblins to wear heavy armor.


    18 Summon Points: Cost: 1 Special Skull


    Grants you 18 Summon Points to spend at your own leisure


    Level up!: Cost: 2 Special Skulls


    Grants you 1 level.


    Stats refund: Cost: 20 Skull Points


    Resets your status points to be assigned again.


    Warning: You will lose one personal level in the process.


    Oh dear god. I just hit the motherload¡­


    If only religious buildings were this awesome in real life!


    That¡¯s one mean looking long list, and I feel like I only scratched the surface of what the shrine can offer. There are so many different possibilities, I don¡¯t know where to begin. I hungrily devour every tidbit of the information on my list. One thing is for certain though. I¡¯ll never distrust Gut¡¯s advice ever again. Well, at least not on village management.


    At the top, I can see how many skulls I have currently gathered. forty-one small skulls, one medium skull and two special skulls. It confused me at first, as I was certain that I had collected at least forty-six small skulls, but I suppose I spent five of them constructing the altar itself. The medium skull must be from the human scout I killed. It seems to automatically count every single skull my tribe has collected as a whole, no matter their location. That¡¯s a good thing, too. I don¡¯t particularly fancy running around finding them all.


    The big question, however, is how to spend them all!


    I like all the options. I really do. But, my supply of skulls is limited. A few of them really speak to me. Especially the skill training ones. If I understand this correctly, it can allow me to instantly powerlevel my mastery of spells! Who could deny the effectiveness and utility of being able to sling spells?


    One part of me screams to become a mage. But my gut feeling¡­ Damn it to hell. It knows it would be completely useless for me to use magic when I¡¯m already an archer. I don¡¯t have time to both throw spells and shoot arrows, you know. Least of all have time to level all the skill levels. Anyone who thinks otherwise is just being silly.


    Nah. As cool as it may be, I have to stay strong and choose smarter.


    The [Invisibility] ability catches my eye though. It¡¯s the perfect skill for running away, or do something really stupid. And, I¡¯m likely to do both!


    But, then again¡­ I could also need to spawn more goblins. Or maybe start saving to unlock another magic affinity¡­


    Or maybe¡­


    Shit. I can¡¯t get around this.


    ¡°Gut.¡± I turn around to face him. ¡°I would like for us both to learn [Telepathic Communication]. Would you consider staying behind if we can be in constant contact?¡± I¡¯m trying for a hail Mary here.


    The old mage gives me another ice cold glare. I try to give him my best and most confident smile, but his whole aura of fury is smashing all hope to bits.


    He stares at me for a whole minute until he finally relents. Taking a deep breath, he responds.


    ¡°Grr. Reckless One. I will agree...¡± He raises one of his eyebrows again. ¡°But, only if you also teach yourself the [Invisibility] skill.¡±


    Oh hell yes!


    ¡°Deal!¡± I yell in glee. A wide smile crossing my face. Gut¡¯s face relaxes for a moment.


    ¡°I want you to give Wrex and Kain the communication skill as well. Also. You WILL contact me every four hours, or before you do something reckless again. And, I swear upon the lives of your children¡¯s children¡­ If you don¡¯t¡­¡±


    Ignoring his veiled threat, I readily agree to everything he says. It¡¯s progress! I could agree to anything at this point. If he hadn¡¯t been so ugly, I might have kissed him!


    ¡°This marks a new dawn for us, Gut! We should celebrate! Bring forth the wine, my vassal!¡± I slam my arm across his shoulders, guffawing to my heart''s content.


    Gut growls, but pulls out his wine skin nonetheless.


    ----------


    Yes, I know how you feel.


    It took far too long, but I did eventually manage to get the expedition going.


    No, really, I did!


    We left in the early evening, and we¡¯ve made good progress south. Our first stop is Qargon¡¯s old cave where I¡¯ve decided to spend the night before we head out scouting early on the morrow.


    I¡¯m currently leading a force of about twenty goblins strong, excluding Scarfang and myself. I wanted to bring more; but, I had that gnawing feeling at the back of my mind that I should really prioritize keeping my village as safe as possible. It¡¯s better to plan for the long term after all. It takes far less time and effort to retreat from battle and attack at a later date if I lack the forces for it than it takes to completely rebuild and repopulate a sacked village.


    So yeah, it¡¯s good. The village is safe and sound under Gut¡¯s care. There is nothing for me to worry about except for this expedition. And, it isn¡¯t even that much to think about at the moment. It¡¯s just travelling through the forest for hours on end.


    And well, you know¡­ I¡¯ve said it before; travelling is boring. Like. Really boring.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Luckily for me, I¡¯m far better prepared this time than last. My leather armor does wonders keeping the branches and various foliage from scratching me up. It¡¯s also far more comfortable travelling on top of a giant, soft pelted wolf. It¡¯s like travelling on one of those merry go rounds on a carnival, while simultaneously bringing my own blanket for comfort¡¯s sake.


    Life is good.


    Another good part about me not having to struggle with moving around is that I get plenty of time to have a conversation with the newest addition to my entourage, Kain.


    Kain¡­ Well. I don¡¯t exactly know how to describe Kain. He is probably the most plain looking goblin in my entire tribe. Everything about him is just so damn¡­ average. He¡¯s average of height, has an average sized nose, average looking ears, he¡¯s bald and he has absolutely no ornaments or scars on his face whatsoever. He¡¯s just¡­ Well. Average.


    I swear, if he swapped his dagger for a miner''s pickaxe just for the heck of it, I wouldn¡¯t be able to tell him apart from a [Miner] even if there was a giant flashing sign above him telling me otherwise.


    I haven¡¯t had much time to talk to him yet apart from a few short commands during the organizing of the expedition, but he seems like a straight-shooting fellow. I make a mental note of having a more in-depth conversation with him later.


    Since I have all this spare time on my hands, I spend some time going over our formation.


    Wrex leads the way alongside four of the seven [Warrior]s I brought. They¡¯re joined by three [Archer]s and a [Blood Mage] for support, with both of the [Scout]s flanking them on either side. At the middle of the pack, you find me, Scarfang, my good old pal - the [Hauler], the two [Fire Mage]s and the last two [Archer]s. Kain, the [Rogue] and the remaining [Warrior]s bring up the rear.


    It¡¯s a nice and efficient formation overall. I have a strong frontline, capable of handling any surprise encounters. The center squadron is made up of the damage dealers and the units with high mobility, making it easy for us to move around and support the rest of the troops as needed. The back troops keep us safe from any surprise attacks that may come our way.


    I mean, really. I didn¡¯t think I was this good at group tactics. Someone should definitely pat me on the shoulder for this work. You know what? I¡¯m going to pat myself actually.


    Splendid work, Greg. You are like the sun in this otherwise bleak world. Keep it up!


    You may wonder, why would I bring such an unbalanced group composition to battle? I only have eight front line fighters in total. That¡¯s not nearly enough to protect the fourteen less protected goblins safe.


    Don¡¯t worry! I have a plan.


    Today I¡¯m just going to set up base at Qargon¡¯s place. Come the morning, I¡¯ll bolster my troops with an additional six [Warrior]s. I brought some spare weapons and armor for the occasion and everything! I almost, but just almost, feel bad about the [Hauler] carrying it all¡­ But meh! The guy has to earn his pay like everyone else.


    I did consider spawning a couple more [Archer]s, but I¡¯d rather postpone that until I¡¯ve made an archery range or whatever building I need to spawn proficient [Archer]s. I have plenty of bow wielding numbnuts already, and having any more is just not that necessary. Besides, I need to keep the efficiency of my unit composition at peak levels.


    ----------


    Evening creeps forth as my ragtag band of goblins finally make it to our destination.


    Qargon¡¯s abandoned cave lays just where I left it. Snugly hidden on top of a hill. I send Wrex and a few of his goonies ahead to scout it out. It doesn¡¯t hurt to be safe after all. Who knows what sort of monsters could pop up while I was absent. Kobold zombies might be a very real threat, you know!


    After a quick scouting, the warband settles in. I station a few [Warrior]s and [Archer]s to guard the entrance while the rest of us settle in and erect a small campfire.


    Diligence is important, so I make certain we have a few guards on rotation during the night.


    I may not have discussed this earlier, but my goblins do indeed need sleep. From what I can gather, at least six hours is the base requirement. Sure. I can have the units skip a single night worth of sleep to do other activities, but there are negative consequences. For every hour the goblins can¡¯t sleep during the night, their combat efficiency will be reduced by five percent the following day. Not a big issue if they work as guardsmen for an hour or two each per night. Especially if we all sleep for eight. It is a significant detriment if they skip sleep altogether though.


    As a result, my weakest units are stuck with guard duty.


    Yes. I do absolutely intend to have my [Hauler] pull a triple shift. He won¡¯t be of much use anyway during the following day. At least I expect so.


    Come to think of it. When I think back at my battle with Harvalon, I¡¯m pretty sure she suffered from a heavy debuff due to lack of sleep. There is just no way she could have reached me that fast, and her units were surprisingly weak. This feature might as well have been the deciding factor in that battle.


    Life is funny sometimes...


    Anyway. I do have another little plan going on. I send my scouts out into the night to try and find the enemy base. It¡¯s potentially a very horrible gamble, as I send them out unprotected. But, my guess is that their superior tracking and hiding skills will keep them safe.


    Yep, probably.


    I¡¯m guessing the enemy will stay in their own base during the night. Because why wouldn¡¯t they? The enemy needs to sleep too; and, having wandering patrols during night time would give them the same nocturnal deficient during the following day as I would. That is if they are not a nocturnal race though¡­ Which would suck¡­ But I strike it from my mind. What are the odds?


    I¡¯m far more worried there are nocturnal predators lurking in the forest at night. Who knows what sort of monster the enemy has crawling about?


    I decide to believe in the [Scout]s. They are armed with brand new bows, and I didn¡¯t intend to use them as combatants anyway. So there is no reason to worry about the sleep deprivation debuff.


    Nope. All is good in the hood.


    It¡¯s time for me to get a good grip on Kain. I spot the lone [Rogue] sitting in the shadow of the large central pillar in the cavern. His face is hidden in the shadows giving me an ominous feeling. Honestly. He looks pretty damn badass. Rogues are cool.


    Am I right?


    As I walk over towards him, I throw an inspect his way.


    Status Screen


    Name: Kain


    Race: Goblin


    Tribe: Dark Fangs


    Mana: N/A


    Rank: Raid Leader


    Class: Rogue


    Skills


    Class skill (Passive): [Enhanced Stealth]


    [Telepathic Communication]


    Command: Level 1


    Melee Mastery: Level 10


    -Dagger Specialization: Level 10


    --[Backstab]


    --[Throw Dagger]


    Utility Mastery: Level 10


    -Concealment: Level 10


    --[Sneak]


    -Tracking: Level 3


    Equipment


    Main Weapon: Tier 2. Copper Dagger (98%)


    Secondary Weapon: None


    Head: Tier 1. Leather Cap (100%)


    Chest: Tier 1. Leather Tunic (99%)


    Legs: Tier 1. Leather Pants (99%)


    Hands: Tier 1. Leather Bracer (98%)


    Feet: Tier 1. Leather Boots (98%)


    Bag: None


    Items: None


    Hmm. Not bad. Exactly what I predicted his stats to be.


    It still aches that he lost six levels worth of skills, but there isn''t much to do about it. The investment is sound, and I¡¯m certain he will make up for it in due time.


    ¡°How¡¯s it going Kain?¡± I ask the rogue as I find a comfortable rock to sit on.


    ¡°Chieftain.¡± He nods at me. ¡°I am very well thank you. The troops are looking strong.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, they do, don¡¯t they?¡± I nod along as I rummage through my utility belt. I extract the two remaining skulls and hand the smaller one of over to Kain.


    Accepting the skull, I can see his forehead furrow as he sniffs it.


    ¡°I borrowed Gut¡¯s wine skin before I left.¡± I grin at the [Rogue].


    He chuckles lightly. ¡°I appreciate it.¡±


    We sit in silence for a while, enjoying the wine. Kain seems like a really awkward guy. I don¡¯t really know how to start a proper conversation with him. He just has this way about him¡­ I don¡¯t know. It just feels weird.


    ¡­


    Well. As one would overcome any awkward situation in life, you just have to find common ground. And what better way is there, but to have someone talk about themselves?


    ¡°I was wondering about that [Sneak] skill of yours¡­¡± I start, making sure to drag the sentence out as to entice him to engage in conversation.


    ¡°What about it?¡±


    Success!


    ¡°Well. Care to explain how it works?¡±


    He looks puzzled. ¡°My sneak skill, huh? Is that so? Hmm¡­ How about I just show you?¡±


    Without giving me time to respond, Kain swiftly gets to his feet and step backwards, fading into the shadows behind him. Activating his [Concealment] skill as he does. His skill level is only ten, so I can still see the outlines of his body. But, I really have to focus to do so. Hell, I probably wouldn¡¯t even know he was there if I wasn¡¯t already staring right at him.


    What happens next is the interesting part though. He starts moving. He takes a few steps to his right, while still maintaining his concealment ability.


    Holy crap! I didn¡¯t know you could maintain concealment while moving. When I tried that, I would immediately become visible once more.


    I observe the [Rogue] as he makes his way further towards the center of the room where the rest of my goblins are eating dinner in peace. Kain steps fluently from shadow to shadow, closing in on his compatriots in utter silence. I can still see faint traces of him from this distance as he moves, but he is definitely more difficult to see. His features perfectly hugging the shadows.


    Kain makes his way up behind a lone [Archer] eating dinner by his lonesome. Unaware of the [Rogue], the archer munches happily on a piece of roasted meat. Not a care in the world.


    The [Archer] seems to notice something is odd when Kain is but half a meter behind him. He turns his head in alert, but it¡¯s already too late. Kain throws a hard punch straight into the unsuspecting goblin¡¯s cheek. I can literally see the goblin¡¯s eyes roll up into his head, revealing the white in his eyes as he slumps over. Unconscious.


    ¡°Holy green baby jesus!¡± I exclaim as I watch the event unfold. ¡°That was¡­ AWESOME!¡±


    I watch in awe as Kain makes his way back over towards me. The brilliant part about it all is that none of my other goblins even noticed that something just went down. It¡¯s both incredibly awesome and incredibly scary at the same time! I definitely need to increase my security from enemy [Rogue]s in the future.


    ¡°So what do you think?¡± Kain asks as he retakes his seat in the shadows. A small smirk dancing on his lips.


    ¡°What the shit man!? That was fucking awesome! You HAVE to tell me the specifics. Like really!¡± I shout in glee.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you like it, Chief.¡± He grins. ¡°I must warn you though, my stealth wouldn¡¯t be nearly as effective if I wasn¡¯t a [Rogue]. As you may have noticed, the [Sneak] skill allows you to use your [Concealment] ability while you are moving. The level of [Sneak] will always function at half the value of your [Concealment] level.¡±


    ¡°I see. So that means since your [Concealment] level is ten, your [Sneak] ability works like a level five [Concealment]?¡± I ask.


    He nods. ¡°Normally, that is the case. But, because of my [Enhanced Stealth] passive, my ratio is slightly better.¡±


    ¡°How much better?¡±


    ¡°I manage to retain about seventy-five percent of the concealment levels when using [Sneak]. It doesn¡¯t do much now, but on the later levels, it will show some deadly effects.¡±


    Wow.


    That¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s freaking overpowered. I could hardly see the guy sneaking around unless I focused, and he is only at level ten!? What the hell? I¡¯m afraid to even think about how powerful he will get when he reaches level twenty. That¡¯s not even mentioning what happens at level thirty. One thing is for certain, though. My hunch that skill levels is everything in this game is correct. Thank god I invested all my points into my [Trainer] characteristic!


    I kind of wish I went for the [Rogue] class myself when I made my character. Staying hidden is worth its own weight in gold. Ach. It¡¯s not too late though. I can still focus on powerleveling my [Concealment] skill to a level so high, the bonus to sneak [Rogue]s get wouldn¡¯t really matter.


    I spend the rest of the night playing hide and seek with Kain.


    ----------


    The next morning I wake with a smile.


    I don¡¯t do that too often these days, so I just know today¡¯s gonna be a great day. It¡¯s just that feeling you get sometimes. You know the feeling I¡¯m talking about.


    Most of the good feeling is because I managed to level my [Concealment] skill by another level! I¡¯m only one level shy of getting the [Sneak] skill, myself, now. Hell, I should make getting the skill mandatory for all of my goblins. The potential is unlimited.


    I take a deep breath and clear my mind.


    Today¡¯s not the day to lose focus. There¡¯s a lot of things to do, and there is a huge potential for combat.


    I start off by summoning the six new [Warrior] recruits. I quickly arm them all with the [Wooden Buckler]s and [Copper Mace]s I brought with me. Since they lack levels in weapon specializations, I figured they would be most useful acting as a meat shield for my more valuable damage dealing goblins. Every little bonus helps and all that.


    My goblins are already up and about, and we¡¯re busy clearing out the campsite. I say clearing out, but the only thing the goblins really do is getting up on their feet and gather around me, waiting to receive my orders for the day. They may be dumb, but they¡¯re at least loyal and obedient.


    I look around for the [Scout]s and notice them hanging around the cave entrance, the female [Scout] looking at me with her large doe eyes.


    I wave her and my lieutenants over.


    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m glad to see you made it back alright.¡± I smile at the [Scout]. She winces at suddenly being addressed in such a friendly manner, but she soon gathers herself enough to meet my gaze.


    ¡°T-thank you, Great Chieftain.¡± She bows her head.


    Huh. She didn¡¯t prostrate herself in front of me. Good. She¡¯s making progress.


    ¡°So. Did you guys find anything last night?¡±


    ¡°Y-yes, Great Chieftain. I n-noticed some smoke rising from a clearing to the south. I didn¡¯t go too close, but I think there was a battle there.¡± She stutters. Twiddling her thumbs as her eyes flicker from side to side.


    ¡°Why do you think that?¡± I ask her.


    Her eyes go wide in surprise once more. Really. This one is too weird. I¡¯m kind of glad I didn¡¯t promote her. Or maybe I should have? What¡¯s the worst thing that could have happened? Her personality couldn¡¯t get any quirkier. That¡¯s for sure.


    ¡°The smoke, Great Chieftain. The amount of smoke means the fire wasn¡¯t under control, so it couldn¡¯t be from a campsite. A battle is the only thing it could have been.¡± Her eyes stare at the dirt between my feet.


    Hmm.


    Her reasoning is good as always. As quirky as she may be, she does a great job. This is also good news. If there was a battle, then there¡¯s a good chance my prey has been sufficiently weakened. A good raid would be perfect right now.


    ¡°Great job!¡± I smile at the scout. She flinches and shies away. I do spot traces of a smile on her face, however, before her face is completely hidden by her leather bracers.


    I pay it no more mind and start rounding up the troops.


    Our little warband quickly rallies and head out. The [Scout] alongside Wrex and his men take point, while the supporting units led by Kain makes up the rear.


    The [Scout] leads us south, and slightly southwest. She estimates the site of battle to be roughly three hours away if we keep a steady pace.


    The hours creep by slowly. Far too slowly. The anticipation of battle causes my skin to crawl. The fact that I have next to no information on what I¡¯m supposed to face here gnaws at me. I already know there¡¯s supposed to be a minotaur player down here based on my quest. That fact alone scares me shitless, but I hope the remaining player is something I can more easily handle.


    I really hope it¡¯s another tier one race. A tier two race could be okay; but, I absolutely dread the fact that there might be another tier three race here. I¡¯m still shaken at the potential power output of a tier three race after I met the Centaurs. I really need bigger guns for this. And fast.


    It doesn¡¯t take long until our party spot some white smoke on the horizon. We slow to a crawl, slowly making our way through the underbrush. I send my two [Rogue]s ahead to scout for any enemies, while Gut organizes a loose perimeter with my most elite warriors.


    The [Rogue]s soon arrive back, reporting seeing several dead bodies from two different races. The [Rogue]s played it safe, and were thus too far away to make out which races they were. They did however, tell me that they both looked huge.


    Fuck.


    I move the troops forwards, and we stop just shy of the clearing. I order the [Archer]s to scale the closest trees overlooking the clearing. The agile goblins easily ascend the trees, their sharp claws and light frame giving them easy purchase on the rough bark of the trees. They move at an unnatural speed, and with such elegance that hardly a leaf is rustled. Their small stature and nimble limbs give them a great ability to position themselves on even the weaker branches, leaving enough room for them to both move their bows and draw their strings.


    Clearly, my goblins are in their natural habitat.


    Something feels off though. I have Kain and the other [Rogue] patrol around the clearing, trying to spot any potential ambushers. Wrex takes charge and leads a small contingent of our stronger [Warrior]s into the clearing, backed up by the two [Fire Mage]s.


    I hold my breath as Wrex advances further into the clearing. I only release it as he reaches the halfway point. He seems to think the area is safe as he turns his head and gives me the all-clear signal. It seems like the battlefield is indeed deserted.


    I make my way into the clearing and have a look around. There are eleven dead bodies littering the ground. The rogues weren¡¯t lying when they said they were big. Shit. There is what seems to be three minotaurs laying on the ground. Two of them have been skewered by what seems to be a the front piece of a spear, and the last one has two deep gashes across its torso, forming a bloody X. I shiver at the thought of the weapon that caused those wounds.


    Their enemies appear to be hobgoblins. They look pretty similar to my own goblins, except that hobgoblins are much larger. Just about the size of a normal adult human I¡¯d say. They also seem to be more muscular than my own goblins. Whereas goblins have a lean build, built for agile movements, hobgoblins have more meaty muscles indicating that they rely more on brute strength rather than deft movements. They seem like fierce opponents, and it doesn¡¯t really make me feel any better that eight of them lie dead on the ground.


    Crap.


    If three minotaurs can kill this many hobgoblins, I shiver at the thought of what would happen if they came up against my own goblins. It would be a slaughter.


    The minotaur is obviously a tier three race, and the hobgoblins must be tier two. There is no armor or weapons lying around, so I assume the spoils have already gone to the victor.


    Going by the number of dead, I can only assume the minotaur won this battle. This is based on the fact that counting summon points alone, the minotaur got more value out of the fight.


    Shit.


    I don¡¯t think I can fight these guys. At least not yet. I need better gear and units if I¡¯m going to stand a chance against these creatures.


    I am about to call for a retreat when I feel Scarfang¡¯s muscles tense. His head snaps to the right, and he bares his teeth.


    I immediately turn my head to the side, just in time to see sixteen hobgoblins emerge from the other side of the clearing.


    Fuck.

 Chapter 25 – Frustrations

    Chapter 25 ¨C Frustrations


    ¡°Close formation! Surround the chieftain! Retreat to the treeline!¡± Wrex shouts as he walks backwards, shield locked onto the horde of hobgoblins.


    The [Warrior]s waste no time obeying, closing ranks and backtracking at a quicker pace.


    I didn¡¯t go too far into the clearing; and, the moment I spotted the enemies, I was already halfway back into safety. Reaching the first tree, I peek around it getting a closer look at my enemies.


    Fortunately, the hobgoblins¡¯ ambush were spotted early and they are still a ways off. While the enemies are already sprinting towards us, we definitely have time to reach the safety of my ranged units before they¡¯re upon us.


    ¡°Ranged units! Focus your fire on the three leading hobgoblins. Fire on my mark!¡± I snap at my surrounding goblins. I raise my crossbow taking aim at the lead hobgoblin. He is a really ugly looking one wielding a wooden club and wearing a leather chest piece.


    ¡°Fire!¡±


    I loose my bolt towards the hobgoblin. Seven arrows and two fireballs follow suit, striking at the hobgoblin vanguard. My bolt takes the hobgoblin in the arm causing him to stumble. Another two arrows strike his belly and thigh. Another hobgoblin takes a fireball to his groin and an arrow to the shoulder, while another takes two arrows to his exposed chest. The rest fly wide.


    ¡°Keep firing!¡± I yell while I quickly reload.


    ¡°Take out their archers!¡± A woman screams. I look around for the source, and spot a female hobgoblin from the center of the enemy formation. She is fully decked out in leather and chainmail armor wielding two axes in each hand. She is far better geared than any of her subordinates.


    ¡°Target the ugly looking female officer!¡± I shout at my goblins while simultaneously cocking a new bolt.


    ¡°Who the hell are you calling ugly you short bastard!?¡± The hobgoblin screams back.


    We release another volley at her.


    Noticing the approaching projectiles, she throws herself to the side, dodging most of them. An arrow still nicks her arm while another two of her subordinates take superficial wounds.


    Wrex and the rest of the [Warrior]s finally make it back to the treeline, using the dense foliage as coverage to slow down the advance of our much larger enemies.


    We slowed down most of the enemies, but they are still charging at us. They are only a few meters out.


    ¡°Brace for impact!¡± I shout. ¡°Mages, up front!¡±


    Wrex and his men releases guttural roars as the two [Fire Mage]s step forwards. The hobgoblins echo the roars as they charge at us, full sprint.


    ¡°[Flamethrower]!¡± The [Mage]s shout as two blazing cones of fire erupt from my frontline. The screams of the hobgoblins pierce through the air.


    ¡°Fire!¡± I shout as we release the third volley, cutting several of the screaming voices short.


    ¡°FUCK! Get back! Get back now!¡± The female hobgoblin shouts. ¡°There are too many of them!¡±


    The hobgoblins immediately break, sprinting off in different directions.


    ¡°Keep firing! Take them all down!¡± I shout as I reload my crossbow.


    We manage the loose another two volleys before the hobgoblins are all out of range. We cripple three of them; and, Wrex runs after them trying to finish them off. His legs are too short to catch up to the hobgoblins who still have their legs intact.


    Two hobgoblins crawl on the ground. One has two arrows stuck in his calves, while another has his achilles heel charred black. Wrex quickly targets them, raising his cutlass to deliver the final blow.


    ¡°Wait!¡± I shout. ¡°Keep them alive for now. They might be useful.¡±


    Wrex looks over at me squinting his eyes. ¡°Are you sure, Chief? They just tried to kill you.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. We might get some information out of them.¡±


    Wrex looks back over at the squirming hobgoblins at his feet.


    ¡°I don¡¯t like it.¡± He grunts delivering a kick to the charred wound of the hobgoblin.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. If he doesn¡¯t tell us anything, I¡¯ll let you kill him in any way you want.¡± I scowl threateningly at the wounded hobgoblin. ¡°So you¡¯d better spill the beans.¡± I tell the prisoner.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you nothing, goblin. Chieftain Aria will split you in half for this.¡± The hobgoblin hisses.


    ¡°Chieftain Aria is it? Is that the ugly berserker chick that lead you?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°Watch your tongue, goblin.¡± He growls.


    ¡°Or else?¡±


    ¡°She will split you in half.¡±


    ¡­


    Really? I¡­ No. Forget about it. I¡¯ve been down this V.I. road before¡­


    ¡°Where is her base?¡± I ask him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you nothing, goblin.¡±


    Sigh. ¡°Wrex? Would you mind?¡±


    Wrex steps on the charred flesh of the hobgoblin, eliciting a pained scream.


    ¡°Let¡¯s try this again, shall we?¡±


    ¡°SHE WILL SPLIT YOU IN HALF FOR THIS!¡±


    Oh, for the love of¡­


    Next time I take a prisoner, I¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s at least a Lieutenant. These lesser V.I.s are going to drive me mad at some point.


    ¡°Hey, listen. If she is going to split me in half, or whatever, we will first have to meet. So, if you want me to be split in half sooner rather than later, then why don¡¯t you tell me where I can find her? You know, so she can split me in any way she wants. Sound good to you?¡±


    He eyes me suspiciously.


    ¡°How dumb do you think I am, goblin? I won¡¯t tell you. She will find you. And when she does¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah yeah, split in half. Got it.¡±


    Well, this was fruitless. I was hoping interrogation was a thing in this game. Might even be, for all I know; but, I¡¯m clearly doing something wrong. No matter. I¡¯ll have Wrex talk to him for a while. In the meantime, I should look through the loot¡­


    ¡°Enemies!¡± A cry echoes from one of my scouts. I whirl my head around, looking towards the treeline on the other side.


    The female hobgoblin alongside the leftover of her little warband stands just inside the treeline, hiding behind trees. They don¡¯t seem to make any moves towards attacking us though.


    ¡°Warriors! At attention! Protect the chief!¡± Wrex shouts, positioning himself in front of me, shield raised.


    ¡°Hey, Shorty!¡± The female hobgoblin peeks her head from behind a tree. ¡°I want to talk. Parley?¡±


    Huh? What¡¯s this then?


    ¡°What do you want, Ugly?¡± I shout back.


    ¡°Hey, fuck you!¡± She screams back. ¡°I want to talk, you little anklebiter.¡±


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you come over here? And, leave your goons behind.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I¡¯m stupid? Why would I trust you?¡± She screams.


    ¡°Hey, you wanted to talk to me, not the other way around.¡±


    She¡¯s quiet for a moment.


    ¡°Okay, how about this. We both meet at the middle? I get two bodyguards, you get four?¡±


    ¡°How about no?¡±


    ¡°What the hell, Shorty. I want to make a deal!¡± She shouts


    ¡°Then for starters, why don¡¯t you stop calling me short?¡±


    ¡°Oh for god¡¯s sake. I¡¯m coming out, alright? Don¡¯t shoot.¡±


    The female hobgoblin steps out into the open, hands raised. She is still too far away for me to accurately shoot her in the face, but she seems honest enough. I don¡¯t trust her, though.


    I snap a few orders to my goblins. I have my scouts head into the forest to look for any ambushes, while Kain and the other [Rogue] try to sneak closer to the enemy. Wrex tightens security in the opening while we bring the [Mage]s up front.


    I turn my attention back towards the female hobgoblin.


    ¡°So what did you have in mind?¡± I ask her.


    She scowls at me for a second, until she takes a deep breath.


    ¡°I want to make an alliance against the minotaur player out east.¡± She says.


    ¡°No dice.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean, no dice? Hear me out at least.¡±


    ¡°Why would I? Sounds like you both killing each other is nothing but good for me. Why would I want to trust another player?¡±


    ¡°Because he¡¯s winning. The minotaurs are unbelievably tough. My hobgoblins can hardly touch those guys, and I¡¯m a tier two race. A tier one race like you wouldn¡¯t stand a chance. You wouldn¡¯t last five minutes against him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances.¡±


    She gives me a good long glare. Eventually, she closes her eyes and sighs.


    ¡°Listen. There is no need for this. I¡¯m barely hanging on here. An alliance is in both of our best interest. I can see that you are strong, but I don¡¯t think you are strong enough to beat him. At least not yet. That fucker has better gear than me; and, he has suffered far less losses. After you just killed some of my hobgoblins, the fucker will soon wipe me out. I don¡¯t want that asshole to win.¡± She says with resolve in her eyes.


    What she says makes a lot of sense. I actually wholly agree with her. My biggest concern so far is going up against a tier three race. I don¡¯t really know how strong they are; but, after seeing the sheer size of a centaur, I don¡¯t like my odds.


    Well, I don¡¯t think I would do too badly; but, there is just no way for me to know. I have gained a lot of power over these last few days, and should soon be able to produce some tier two weapons and armor. From what I can see, the hobgoblin still uses mostly tier zero equipment. It must be because she spends all her available summon points on fighters rather than crafters.


    An alliance would be great; but, it¡¯s just not feasible at this point. There is no way for me to know she won¡¯t backstab me the first chance she gets.


    Unless¡­


    ¡°I¡¯ll accept your allegiance, on one condition.¡± I say.


    She looks relieved. ¡°What condition?¡±


    ¡°One second¡­¡±


    I open up a blue window I recently discovered during a browsing session of the options available to me in my [Chieftain¡¯s Hut].


    Alliance Agreement


    Contract offered by: The Dark Fang Tribe


    Contract received by: The Slasher Tribe


    Contract length: 14 days.


    The Dark Fang Tribe offers alliance with the Slasher Tribe with the following conditions:


    The alliance will last until the contract expires, or twenty-four hours after the Bullox Herd has been defeated.


    Both players will offer any intelligence they have about the Bullox Herd. The game¡¯s Main A.I. will determine if the information is truthful.


    The Slasher Tribe will not be allowed to take hostile actions against the Dark Fang Tribe.


    The Dark Fang Tribe may not take hostile actions against the Slasher Tribe without just cause. The Main A.I. governing the game will determine if the action is justified.


    The contract may be cancelled at any time by mutual agreement between the players.


    Both players swear to maintain an armistice for the duration of the agreement.


    None of the players may force or coerce a third player to influence the agreement or cause deliberate harm towards the other player..


    Warning!


    Breaching this contract will cause the offending player to be unable to gain any Summon Points for a predetermined amount of time. The Dark Fang Tribe will lose three to seven days depending on the severity of the breach. The Slasher Tribe will lose fourteen to twenty-one days depending on the severity of the breach.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°Hey, what the shit? That¡¯s completely unfair!¡± The hobgoblin yells.


    ¡°I don¡¯t care. You¡¯re the desperate one, not me. If you don¡¯t like it, feel free to attack me right here and now; and, I¡¯ll make sure you will lose a hell of a lot more than five hobgoblins.¡±


    She looks furious.


    ¡°Tell you what, I¡¯ll even release the two captives if you agree. That means you only lost three hobgoblins. Deal?¡± I add.


    Her eyes shoot daggers at me.


    ¡°Depends¡­ What do you mean by ¡®just cause¡¯? That sounds sketchy.¡± She frowns.


    ¡°That is to make sure I can back out of this if you do something really fucking stupid that puts us both at risk.¡± I tell her with an even tone.


    She snorts. ¡°Who the hell do you take me for? If anyone¡¯s going to put us at risk, it¡¯s most likely going to be you.¡±


    ¡°I doubt that. I have three hobgoblin corpses that says otherwise.¡±


    She scowls at me. It doesn¡¯t affect me much. Her scowl can¡¯t hold a candle to good old grandpa Gut on a Monday morning.


    ¡°Well if you don¡¯t want to¡­ We could always duke it out right here, right now. So what do you say?¡± I ask her.


    She wrinkles her nose in disgust. ¡°Then it¡¯s a deal.¡± She growls.


    ¡°Great! I¡¯m Greg¡¯lok. You may call me Greg if you want.¡± I grin at her.


    She takes a step forwards. ¡°I¡¯m Aria. Pleased to meet you, Shorty.¡± She says through gritted teeth.


    Oh, we¡¯ll be such great friends. I¡¯m sure!


    ----------


    We join forces with the hobgoblins and head south into the forest. Apparently, Aria and her crew made the decision everyone else completely ignored. She created her village deep in the forest next to a river. I¡¯m both glad and suspicious that she invites my goblins and me into the heart of her territory; but, it shouldn¡¯t be so bad. At least, not for me.


    It could have taken us days to find this place. Really. You shouldn¡¯t underestimate the size of these biomes. I reckon it should take twelve hours to walk from one end to the other. The amount of square kilometers that makes up is staggering. That¡¯s a whole lot of ground to cover to find the enemy base.


    Knowing where her village is will save me at least a day of future scouting. It doesn¡¯t bode so well for her that she actually invites me over just like this. I¡¯m not sure if she is just that poor of a tactician, or if she has some ulterior motive to lure me into a trap. Probably the former. Betraying me now would fuck us both over and I don¡¯t think she has a reason to murder me out of spite. At least, not yet.


    I spend most of the trip filling Gut in on everything that happened with our new communication ability. He sure as hell wasn¡¯t happy that we walked straight into an ambush; but, the result of the battle more than mollified his growling.


    The battle went really well.


    It wasn¡¯t much of a battle; but, the power of ranged units is amazing. I managed to finish off three of the enemy hobgoblins, cripple two and injure half a dozen more without suffering any casualties. Granted, Aria¡¯s units are surprisingly poorly geared and they were running at me in an open clearing; but, they are still a tier two race. I thought I would be able to kill off more than this really; but, Aria¡¯s Advisor is a [Blood Priest]. I didn¡¯t see him during the battle; but, he healed and kept several of the hobgoblins alive with his healing magic.


    I suppose it all turned out for the better. We are allies now; and, the more units she has, the better it is for me. At least, in the short term. I even returned most of the few upgraded pieces of armor back to her. The armor can only be used by tier two humanoid races, so I can¡¯t really use them for anything but [Scrap]. It should make a difference for her troops though. At least, I didn¡¯t come out of this battle empty handed. My [Hauler] carries three shiny new tier two [Skulls].


    It takes an hour and a half for us to reach her village, or what I assume is her main village. The lack of buildings catches me by surprise, as I figured she had to have at least some semblance of an infrastructure by now. What I¡¯m seeing is appalling.


    She has a single [Builder] working on what I assume is a [Barracks]. She has a [Blacksmith], a [Workshop] and a [Leatherworker¡¯s Hut] circling a [Cooking Fire]. That¡¯s it. That¡¯s all she has made after sixteen days in game.


    ¡°What the fuck, Aria... What the hell have you done for the last sixteen days?¡± I blurt. Not able to contain my shock.


    She furrows her brows. ¡°What is it to you, Shorty?¡±


    ¡°Where are all your buildings? Your builders? Where is your Longhouse for crying out loud?¡±


    ¡°What? I don¡¯t need them. Troops are more important. In case you haven¡¯t noticed, I¡¯ve been fighting a god damned war over here. Who has time to sit here and play tea party?¡±


    ¡°What the¡­ Seriously? I was afraid about you being daft earlier; but, this, right here, is beyond anything I could have predicted. Really? I mean¡­ REALLY!?¡± I make a big spectacle out of shaking my head and facepalming.


    ¡°Hey! Shut the fuck up! I don¡¯t want no fucking green smurf telling me what to do. This right here is fine. I¡¯m not dead, yet. Pull the tampons out of your ass already.¡± She sneers.


    ¡°Hell, with this setup I doubt you could even produce any tampons.¡±


    ¡°You want my axe to introduce your face to your balls?¡±


    ¡°Try me, bitch.¡±


    We scowl at each other while both of our subordinates surround us creating a firm line split between us.


    ¡°How about we take a minute and breath, eh?¡± A voice shoots in from the side. Our heads snap to the side, glaring at the hobgoblin advisor, Warwick.


    He shrugs. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t help either of us to fight it out here. So, we should just calm down a little and take a little break, eh?¡± He smiles.


    Aria and I scowl at one another for another moment until we break eye contact and walk in seperate directions.


    What an idiot. Really. What sort of an ingrate would spend twenty thousand fucking Euros to play a game when you can¡¯t tell your tit from your arse? Who let that girl in here? Freaking over privileged rich kids. Treating this as some sort of joke.


    ¡­


    Why am I wasting my time making an alliance with this idiot?


    I should just let her take point in an attack against that damned minotaur and let her kill herself alongside a few of the enemy units. Then, I¡¯ll sweep in and mop up the rest. She¡¯s just so narrow sighted and crude. She isn¡¯t worth wasting time on.


    Shit.


    I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. It isn¡¯t bad. It¡¯s actually still good for me. She is a disposable pawn; and, she still has a good amount of units left. Who knows? Maybe she has some information about the game mechanics I don¡¯t know. It¡¯s worth checking out.


    I¡¯m glad I haven¡¯t revealed all my cards to her yet. I still have Kain and the other [Rogue] hiding in the woods nearby. If everything goes to shit, I¡¯ll just have them sneak into base come nightfall and have her killed. I probably won¡¯t do that, though. The penalty for breaking the contract is severe; and, I doubt stupidity qualifies as a good reason for offing her.


    I rally my goblins and set up camp a little ways downriver from the hobgoblin settlement making sure to post sentries of my own in the trees nearby. We brought enough rations for three days; but, I hope we won¡¯t be out here for that long. Perhaps I should demand she share some of her own resources?


    ¡­


    Not worth the trouble asking.


    Her lack of infrastructure is worrisome, though. Just the fact that she doesn¡¯t have a [Longhouse] means that she has a severe morale penalty from that alone. Coupled with the fact that I doubt she even bothered recruiting more than one or two different types of food gatherers, the morale deficit must impact her combat capability to an even greater degree. Her items already suck, so that makes me feel even worse about the fact that I didn¡¯t manage to kill more hobgoblins than I did during the fight.


    It can¡¯t be too bad though. She did manage to kill off three minotaurs. Considering her poor equipment, that means the distance to kill off tier three units isn¡¯t as far as I first feared. This is good. Really good. It might mean I can ditch this sorry excuse for a gamer first chance I get.


    Sigh.


    I need to gather some information before I do anything.


    First of all, though.


    ¡°Kain, are you near?¡±


    A flicker in the shadows of a nearby bush catches my eye.


    ¡°Of course, Chieftain. What do you need?¡±


    A brief smile crosses my lips. I can¡¯t stress enough how much I like this guy. Having him around is going to be so much fun.


    ¡°I want you and the other [Rogue] on watch duty. Keep your eyes on the hobgoblin woman. I don¡¯t trust her; and, if she tries anything, kill her. I¡¯m not taking any chances.¡±


    The lieutenant nods before he slips back into the shadows.


    Sigh.


    Gathering my thoughts and calming my mind, I head over towards the hobgoblin settlement. I make sure to stay as close to the treeline as I can, making certain I¡¯m not too far from Kain in case anything goes to shit. Wrex and a few of his boys walk ahead, keeping their eyes peeled on the environment.


    Noticing our approach, Aria and a few of her own minions head out to meet us. I can feel the gaze of her advisor on me, sizing me up. She might be an idiot; but, I doubt her V.I. companion follows her example. I make a mental note to be wary of her [Blood Priest]. With as ominous sounding class as that, I wouldn¡¯t put it past him that he is more dangerous than he seems.


    ¡°What¡¯s up, Shorty?¡± She glares at me.


    I force a smile. ¡°I figured, since we are allies and everything, that it might be prudent to share some information.¡± I fix my eyes on her.


    ¡°Tssk. Why bother? I know enough.¡±


    My inner voice screams at me not to roll my eyes. Come on, Greg. Be diplomatic. You can do it. It¡¯s not so bad. Remember your training. Remember your job¡­


    ¡°Maybe you do. It couldn¡¯t hurt to compare notes though? What do you have to lose?¡± I ask her.


    ¡°You mean other than my temper?¡±


    ¡°Oh for fu-¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should hear him out, Mistress?¡± Warwick interrupts me. I still glare at the infuriating woman, my face crimson red.


    ¡°Tssk. Whatever you want, old man.¡± She shrugs. She drops to the ground and pulls out a knife with which she starts picking her nails.


    The woman is lucky I¡¯m not a fire mage. My eyes alone could incinerate that bitch.


    ¡°What do you want to talk about, short Chieftain?¡± Warwick smiles at me.


    Ignoring the subtle slight, I take a deep breath. Remember your training, Greg. You¡¯ve been through worse. Killing her would get you nothing but short term satisfaction. She is a valuable meat shield. Wrex could use a break. You got this.


    I exhale deeply.


    ¡°What can you tell me of the minotaur? I need to know anything you know. Like, how many troops does he have? How many have you killed? Where is his base? What is the quality of his gear? Which class is he and his advisor?¡±


    Warwick gives Aria a sideways glance. She just shrugs. ¡°Tell him what he needs to know. I don¡¯t really care.¡±


    He closes his eyes for a moment before he turns his attention back at me. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I¡¯d say the old priest is frustrated. These V.I. features sure make them seem lifelike...


    ¡°We don¡¯t exactly know how many of them there are; but, we estimate him to have at least ten [Warrior]s and two [Shaman]s. Maybe more. He doesn¡¯t always bring everyone.¡± He takes a moment to scratch his chin. ¡° I believe we have killed eleven [Warrior]s, while we lost twenty-eight of our own. It¡¯s not ideal; but, we have killed more priority targets.¡±


    I raise an eyebrow. ¡°Such as?¡±


    ¡°We gutted what we believe is his advisor last night. A nasty fellow who uses insect magic to attack our forces. It took a lot of effort and manpower; but, he didn¡¯t stand a chance against our fierce leader.¡± He nods at Aria who sits idle to the side, yawning.


    ¡°Huh¡­ You don¡¯t say.¡±


    ¡°Uhm, I do, short Chieftain.¡± Warwick nods seriously, looking slightly confused.


    ¡°Ah, shit. Wait, what I meant was¡­ Ah fuck it. Nevermind. What else can you tell me?¡± Goddamn V.I. conversationalists, am I right?


    ¡°Okay¡­¡± He hesitates for a moment. ¡°We have had two major battles and six lesser skirmishes. Most of our battles have been near our own territory and at the clearing we met you. So, we don¡¯t know precisely where his base is located. He usually arrives from, and retreats towards, the mountain. I¡¯d make a fair wager that¡¯s where he made his base. It might be a trick though.¡± He says.


    ¡°Makes sense. Almost everyone else seems to have made the same decision. Except for you guys, that is.¡± I mutter. ¡°Please, go on.¡±


    Warwick nods. ¡°They mostly have leather and copper gear; but, they had some iron weapons in our battle last night. Their leader is of the [Guardian] class, wearing full steel plate armor and wielding a double edged steel axe and a tower shield. He has a lieutenant [Warrior]. An annoying brute who wields a two handed [Iron Axe]. He killed many of our best [Warrior]s¡­¡±


    ¡°The fucker killed Gob.¡± Aria growls.


    ¡°... Gob?¡±


    She scowls at me. ¡°Yes, Gob. My lieutenant. What? You have a fucking problem with my naming sense, Shorty?¡± She snaps at me.


    I raise my hands defensively. ¡°What? No¡­ Gob doesn¡¯t sound so¡­ I mean¡­ It sounds good!¡± I stammer.


    Jesus Christ, Greg. Why do I keep reacting like when talking to women? She doesn¡¯t even sound that hot¡­ I mean. Fuck! Shut up, Greg.


    She narrows her eyes. ¡°Are you making fun of me, Shorty?¡±


    ¡°NO!¡± I nearly shout. I can feel how my cheeks start to blush. Oh god, not now. Why does this even happen in a virtual body?


    She raises an eyebrow. ¡°Are you¡­ blushing?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    A wide grin spreads on her lips. ¡°You are, aren¡¯t you? Really, Shorty?¡±


    I turn away from her. ¡°Shut up, Ugly.¡±


    ¡°Aaawww¡­ Is the tough little gobby-wobby being shy now? What¡¯s the matter Greggie? Can¡¯t handle a being near cute girls?¡± She teases.


    Anger builds within me. Don¡¯t let her get under your skin Greg. You haven¡¯t trained for this. Just shut up and weather the storm.


    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you are a virgin, are you?¡± She sports a shit-eating grin.


    ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± I blurt out before I can help myself.


    Her grin grows ever wider.


    Shit. There¡¯s no coming back from this. I walked face first into her taunt; and, whatever I say from here on out will just make me look worse.


    For the record, I¡¯m not a virgin. Not that it matters¡­ Hey, fuck you! I¡¯m not!


    ¡­


    I close my eyes and start counting to ten. I shouldn¡¯t get drawn into her pace. There is just no way I would survive that.


    ¡°...Nine...Ten.¡± I mutter. ¡°Right. If you are all done being an adult, how about we talk about our plan of attack?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Why so serious?¡± She winks at me. I¡¯m prepared though. I don¡¯t even blink. ¡°Tssk. Fine. The plan is simple. Tomorrow, we attack. I¡¯ll attack up front, while you cover me from the rear. Simple and efficient. We overwhelm them with numbers.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we should add a few more details?¡± I give her a dead stare.


    ¡°What? I¡¯m giving you the best chance you¡¯ll ever have at looking at a woman¡¯s ass up close, Shorty. Maybe you should be a little more grateful?¡± She winks at me again.


    ¡­


    Okay. Now she¡¯s pissing me off. She may have caught me off guard earlier; but, I won¡¯t let her ruin my strategizing. That¡¯s like telling a Texan that bacon is overrated. Hell, that¡¯s like telling any man that bacon is overrated. You just don¡¯t say that kind of shit.


    So, now I¡¯m standing at a crossroads. Option A, the tempting one, is to start a long winded flame-war between us, throwing insults back and forth until it all ends in bloodshed. But, since I¡¯m apparently being an adult, I decide to go for option B and do the grown up thing - ignore her and change the subject.


    Good day to decide to try out adulting, Greg. Spectacular choice.


    ¡°We¡¯ll hash out the details later. In the meanwhile, I have a request. I want to be the one who finishes off the minotaur.¡±


    ¡°What? No! Request denied. That asshole is mine!¡± She shouts.


    Sigh. ¡°I have a quest to kill him. I don¡¯t want to lose out on the reward.¡±


    ¡°A quest, huh?¡± She frowns. ¡°Is it that major personalized one that gives you five targets to kill?¡± She asks.


    I raise my eyebrows. ¡°You have one too?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I have five targets¡­ Well, three now. Two of them seems to have gotten themselves killed before I could get to them. A pity. One of them was really close too. A orc player named Ork¡¯Grimlar who shared our biome. It wasn¡¯t you that killed him, was it?¡± She glares at me.


    ¡°What? No. The harpy, Harvalon, did him in on the first day.¡± I say a tad more defensively than I probably should. ¡°I did kill Harvalon though.¡±


    Interesting. Seems like my quest wasn¡¯t as unique as I thought. It sounds like the quests are pretty similar. Kill off five targets, with one of them sharing your biome. Not too bad. Gives us all something to strive for. One thing bugs me though¡­¡±


    ¡°What exactly does your quest description say?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Huh? What does it matter?¡±


    ¡°Just humor me.¡± I sigh.


    She rolls her eyes. ¡°One second¡­¡± Her eyes seems to glass over as her body stiffens. There¡¯s a blue glint in her eyes that reminds me that we are indeed digital characters. No matter how real this world feels.


    ¡°Ah, here we go. ¡®Hitlist: Take out your assigned targets.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Is that all?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Yeah, why?¡±


    ¡°Just curious¡­¡± I furrow my brows. ¡°Say, do you know any of the other contestants in this game?¡±


    ¡°What? No. Seriously, what¡¯s up with all the questions?¡± She inquires, squinting at me.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing important, really. I have the same quest as you. It¡¯s just worded differently.¡± I trail off into my own thoughts.


    I¡¯ve had a good hunch from the start that the developers were up to something. Like, how Logan took my call personally during my interview, why he dug for more information about how I lost my job, the reason he didn¡¯t disqualify me after punching that stupid prick, Richard, in the face... He wants something from me. But, what the fuck could it be? I don¡¯t think he gives two shits about me or my troubles. Not really. Does he have some sort of gripe with Richard? Maybe his father?


    ¡­


    No. There are better ways of resolving a conflict than chucking his son and me into a video game to duke it out.


    What else could it be?


    Just for the lulz?


    Nah, really. He can¡¯t be that weird¡­ It has to-


    ¡°Oy! Shorty! Are you spacing out on me? Helluuuuuh!¡± Aria throws pebbles at me.


    In a blur of movement, Aria releases a surprised yelp. Everyone turns in her direction. Her hobgoblins sneer while raising their weapons, preparing to strike at my goblins. Wrex raises his shield threateningly, his subordinates forming a shield wall between me and the hobgoblins.


    ¡°Kain! Stand down!¡± I shout.


    The goblin [Rogue] growls, but releases the grip on his dagger which is pressed tightly to Aria¡¯s throat. He slides down her back and takes a step back.


    ¡°She attacked you, Chieftain.¡± He growls, not taking his eyes off Aria.


    Sigh.


    Why isn¡¯t anyone normal around here?


    ...


    After a few more angry threats and scowling, both races retreat back to their respective camps. We all agree to attack the minotaur at first light; and, since the situation is way too tense, we decide to postpone the planning until morning. There is just no way we can have a civilized talk without someone dying today.


    I shrug it all off and slump into the grass. Wrex has already organized the idle goblins to start sparring. No need to waste daylight, is there? Especially since we¡¯re this close to a source of water.


    It¡¯s been a long freaking day; and, I could use a nap.


    I lay my head on the grass and close my eyes. Sleep doesn¡¯t come easy to me; but, there is one thing I just can¡¯t get out of my head.


    ...


    I can¡¯t believe she named him Gob.

 Chapter 26 – Misdeeds

    Chapter 26 ¨C Misdeeds


    ¡°Well this is¡­ odd.¡± Logan mumbles as his eyes scan a series of monitors in front of him.


    He scratches his wild beard as he leans back in his chair. This doesn¡¯t make any sense. Why is the A.I. acting this way? Is it a bug?


    The reason behind Logan¡¯s current conundrum is the introduction of the A.I update a few weeks past. There¡¯s something peculiar about it. With the introduction of high grade A.I automatons, things like bugs in the coding have become a surprisingly lesser problem when it comes to software development. It gives more wiggle room for developers to focus more on the design and creativity when it comes to creating new and exciting software.


    Which brings to question as to why this update seems to create so many problems?


    Sure, it works for all intents and purposes. Better, even, than he predicted. The upgraded A.I units have become scarily lifelike, sometimes giving him the impression they are more alive than some of the contestants. It¡¯s beautiful, and the show¡¯s ratings have skyrocketed to even greater heights. More people than ever tune in every second to watch the glorious show that is Fantasy Royale. It¡¯s everything Logan ever hoped for. There really shouldn¡¯t be any reason for him to complain.


    The problem, however, is that with the update, he lost access to all of the V.I units affected by the update. He can¡¯t do anything. Nothing. Nada.


    Which infuriates the man to no end.


    His fist clenches around the rubix cube in his hand.


    ¡°What the hell is wrong with this thing?¡± He growls while clenching harder, watching his knuckles whiten. The cube was a gift from Kelly after a year of working together. It¡¯s just been laying on his desk collecting dust for the past ten years. Sure, he sometimes enjoyed picking it up and playing around with it when he¡¯s stressed, but he never really bothered trying to solve it.


    It¡¯s ridiculous really. Logan may be one of the most intelligent people on the face of the planet, but he still has no clue how to solve something as simple as a rubix cube. Well, it¡¯s more like he never bothered trying to learn the trick to solving them. What fun is a puzzle with a trick to it once you know it? The mystery is all the fun after all. Which is why he enjoys keeping it around as a stress reliever. Tossing it around while slowly contemplating which sides to twist and turn without really doing anything has become a sort of ritual to Logan when facing a difficult obstacle.


    He has been playing around with it a lot lately...


    There¡¯s just been one obstacle after the other over the last few weeks. The worst one being the loss of Kelly. That annoying wench.


    Really. How dares she betray him. Him. After everything he has done for her. Without Logan, Kelly would still be some anonymous secretary at some failing logistics company. He made her. And this is her thanks?


    That bitch!


    Logan throws the cube across the room, watching it shatter into a dozen pieces.


    The pieces scatter across the room. He stares at the point where the cube impacted the wall. His breath is heavy as his cheeks slowly turn red.


    Kelly has been a constant thorn in his side. He thought she would calm down given enough time, but her actions as of late threaten to ruin everything. Everything he has built. Why can¡¯t that dense woman understand what he is trying to accomplish here?


    He thought he stopped her by taking away her access to the systems. That wouldn¡¯t really be an issue as only Logan himself a handful others have access to the A.I itself. He thought he had her cornered, but he underestimated her. She came far too close when trying to trick Brian into giving her access to the incriminating databanks.


    That¡¯s a mistake he would never do again. Not only did he fire that unloyal bitch, but he revoked access to the A.I for everyone except a select few loyal programmers. He¡¯s too close to accomplishing his goal for some distrusting slut to tear down all his hard work.


    He wanted to keep that bitch close where he could see her. He thought he could control her.


    ¡­


    He won¡¯t be making that mistake again.


    He thought there was no way for her to get any actual proof of what he had done. Sure, she could go public with what he had done, but without any hard proof, she wouldn¡¯t be able to back her claims up. Everything she has is just circumstantial. She could have caused some ripples because of her position as Logan¡¯s right hand woman, but now she doesn¡¯t even have that. Logan made sure to disgracefully dismiss her, so any claims she could now make would only sound like a petty and vengeful ex-employee.


    She couldn¡¯t even sic the government watch dogs on him.


    Britain¡¯s National Cyber Crime Unit, or NCCU, is nothing but a joke. After the new laws in the mid 2020¡¯s, the citizens right to privacy and freedom of information on the internet has been under the thumb of megacorporations like SinTech Entertainment, or any company with access to A.I technology. There is just no way to conduct a proper investigation into a system protected by a high grade A.I. The A.I themselves are designed to safeguard a company¡¯s information at all costs, which makes it nigh impossible for government law enforcement to perform any sort of investigation into their businesses. They could always come with their so-called warrants or their own A.I¡¯s, but they really wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything. A.I¡¯s are fool proof, and is why Kelly has no chance whatsoever to get any physical proof of Logan¡¯s misdeeds.


    Hopefully¡­


    Logan hates to admit it, but Kelly is both resourceful and quick-witted. Those are not her foremost qualities, however, as she is also probably the most stubborn person Logan has ever met... Apart from himself, of course. It¡¯s the reason he hired her, after all. He underestimated her once, and he can¡¯t afford to do it again. There is no doubt in his mind that Kelly won¡¯t let this rest.


    He sighs.


    If that was the only problem he currently has¡­


    In order to keep Fantasy Royale interesting and fun to watch, there needs to be good content. The game is all about making everything seem natural and fair, which Logan also really wants. But, sometimes, adjustments needs to be made. He hates to do it, but Logan had to directly manipulate the game to make it more interesting. Granted, he will never do anything that would break the balance of the game, but he did ¡®tweak¡¯ a few details to give certain circumstantial advantages to the more interesting players out there.


    When the game first started, Logan had carefully selected ten different players to feature in fun and interesting storylines for the viewers to enjoy. These ten players have been nurtured by SinTech to seem as fun and intriguing as possible. Every one of the players has some interesting aspect to their personality or background which Logan exploits to create a dramatic story with individual goals for each one of them.


    And, it has been a huge success.


    Eight of the storylines have flourished and have grown immensely in popularity. The most popular of which is Gregory¡¯s Avenger Storyline, the Japanese pop-idol Minakawa Shuzitsu¡¯s and Korea¡¯s Gang Joo-Sin¡¯s Lover¡¯s Storyline, and the recently discovered Allison Jackson¡¯s Diplomatic Storyline. That last one was a lucky find after one of the other storylines in her biome didn¡¯t pan out. Allison and her information network based on her Centaur Divinators really turned the table on Logan¡¯s analysis''s. Using the information to manipulate her neighbours and control their actions is a completely unexpected strategy to use in Fantasy Royale. It is so different and unique, Logan just had to give her her due. Her storyline is especially popular among left-wing viewers with higher education, which is a target group that is difficult to appeal to with Fantasy Royale.


    These eight storylines are Logan¡¯s pride and joy, and he has spent a lot of time to make certain these storylines progress in a fun and interesting manner. He tries to interfere as little as possible, but sometimes it¡¯s necessary.


    Which has become increasingly difficult after the A.I update¡­


    After he introduced the upgraded and untested A.I modules into the game, the main A.I has shut out certain access paths to Logan. He understand this is the A.I¡¯s way to keep an absolute control over the foreign A.I coding, but it irks him nonetheless. Logan now has next to no way to manipulate the players. Not that he needs to anymore, but if he notices another potentially fatalistic problem with the storylines, he damn certain will make sure they won¡¯t end for no good reason.


    Take Gregory¡¯s emotional meltdown as an example. If Logan hadn¡¯t been quick on his feet and hijacked his advisor, the entire storyline would be in jeopardy. That¡¯s a loss Logan is not willing to take. Not for something as insignificant as an existential crisis.


    He has great hope for Gregory and what he can achieve. He just needs to stay alive for long enough to face Richard Kenworth. The odds are certainly stacked in both of their favor¡­


    Before the game even started, Logan took certain precautions to give the selected players the most advantageous starting positions as possible. All ten of them were placed into Biomes alongside the worst rated players possible. It goes against every promise Logan made to make sure the distribution of players is randomized, but a good storyline would be wasted if the players die early to nothing but bad luck.


    Take Gregory¡¯s biome for example. Most of the players in his biome have been deemed to be below average gamers. The game¡¯s A.I analyzed most of their gaming history, and determined these players were an easy match up for Gregory¡¯s presumed playstyle. Both Ork¡¯Grimlar and Qargon were cowardly defensive players by nature and Aria was far too reckless. Harvalon was a surprising dark horse in the competition. Since there are hardly any strategy games on the market these days, the A.I failed to analyze his competence with these games. They had just analyzed his rating in different RPG and FPS games and determined them to be sub-par for someone with such long gaming history.


    Nevertheless, he was a welcome surprise. Logan wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to give Harvalon a storyline of his own if he had succeeded, and even in his defeat, he has become a valued ¡®expert¡¯ on the game to be featured on the news broadcasts. Logan still beats himself up over the fact he didn¡¯t notice this hidden talent earlier. It¡¯s such a waste really.


    Logan just needs to make sure the storylines flourish for a while. If they can successfully capture their biomes, they should be able to stand on their own. Now, Logan just has to be on the lookout for other hidden gems among the population. He seems to have found a few already. They just need to be given a proper chance. A chance he has trouble giving them.


    It goes without saying, the A.I update took away his best tool for ingame manipulation. Replacing the higher grade V.I¡¯s with prototype A.I units certainly made them more lifelike and interesting, but introducing foreign A.I coding into the systems isolated them somewhat from the main A.I cluster. Logan has tried, but he seems unable to get access to any of those units. At least, not yet.


    This makes it damn hard to directly influence the game at this point. Sure, he can still hijack a lesser V.I unit, but those are also influenced by the foreign A.I coding to a lesser degree. He could force his way into control of one of them, but he fears it would cause harm to the system. Harm he might not be able to hide from the NCCU.


    The foreign A.I code is both excruciatingly frustrating, but also quite odd. Logan thought he had a good grasp on the coding before, but it seems to have evolved after merging with the game¡¯s main A.I. He has quadruple checked that there is no way for the foreign A.I modules to seize control, but the sheer complexity and odd behaviour of the software is mind boggling. It functions on a whole different level that makes his own A.I coding seem like a potato battery in comparison. An A.I shouldn¡¯t be able to have this level of complexity, should it?Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Logan peruses the logs for the umptenth time. The data he has generated is massive, so massive he doesn¡¯t even understand all of it. But, there are certain peculiarities in there. The individual A.I units seem to have developed individual subsystems to compliment their own behaviour. His scans shows they aren¡¯t a threat to the main A.I cluster, but they are peculiar nonetheless. What is their purpose? It¡¯s almost as if they are each trying to evolve their coding into something unique. Almost as if it¡¯s of their own free will.


    Logan snorts, before he dismisses that ridiculous notion.


    ---------


    ¡°Wake up you blasted youngling!¡± A voice shouts into my mind.


    My eyes shoot open and I roll to my side, grabbing hold of my crossbow as I take cover behind a nearby log.


    I blink a few times as my mind shakes loose from the deep slumber I was in just a mere moment ago.


    ¡°What the fuck, Gut!? Why the hell are you shouting!?¡± I yell through my long distance communication skill.


    ¡°It¡¯s been eight hours since I last heard from you, and you are snoring into my damn ears as if I¡¯m some sort of blasted trogg.¡± The voice growls in my mind.


    ¡°Jesus christ man. It¡¯s not like I can control this damn thing. What the hell do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t get me started on what you can do¡­¡± He grunts.


    I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Why the hell does he have to do this to me every fucking morning?


    ¡°... What do you want?¡± I ask.


    He grunts. ¡°I want to report on our current situation. We have finished constructing the [Scout¡¯s Tower] and a third [Longhouse]. After you gave me access to promote the [Rider]s yesterday, we have begun constructing the [Beast Stable]. We are planning on starting constructing the [Archery Range] afterwards as soon as you give the all-clear to upgrade your [Archer]s.¡±


    Oh! I nearly forgot!


    I turn towards my nearby forces and locate my five veteran archers-in-training. I quickly inspect them to confirm they have indeed reached [Ranged Mastery] and [Bow Specialization] level 10. I open up the class description.


    [Archer]


    Unlock Criteria: Any Ranged Weapon Specialization Level 10.


    Gain: Possibility of raising mastery levels above 10. 50% increase to [Ranged Mastery] acquisition. Unique passive ability: [Enhanced Aim].


    Lose: 50% decrease to [Spell Mastery] acquisition. 25% decrease to [Melee Mastery] acquisition.


    Warning!


    Choosing this class will cause the unit to lose all accumulated skill levels in [Spell Mastery]. [Melee Mastery] with all corresponding specializations will be reduced to level 5.


    Excellent. Truly excellent! My forces are growing more powerful every day. The sheer amount of classes I have unlocked already is staggering to say the least. I have so many developmental options I don¡¯t know quite where to start anymore.


    ¡°Great work, Gut! Halt progress on the [Beast Stable] and prioritize making the [Alchemist Hut] followed by the [Archery Range]. It¡¯s priority number one. It¡¯s about time we start expanding our capabilities.¡±


    ¡°It will be done, reckless one. I also want to report that our food stores are starting to dwindle. It would be wise to increase production sooner rather than later.¡±


    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll grant you authority to spawn two [Hunter]s... and also an [Alchemist] as soon as you complete the [Alchemist Hut] and¡­¡± I get an odd feeling swelling in my chest. ¡°Hmm¡­ I suppose I¡¯ll hang on to the last SP for now incase something comes up.¡± The odd feeling in my gut tells me I might need them in the coming battle.


    I¡¯ve been meaning to upgrade our production lately, but I can¡¯t risk neglecting combat units while I¡¯m out attacking with the main combat force. Gut is surprisingly resourceful though, so I¡¯m certain he has the issue well in hand.


    ¡°Anything else?¡± I ask.


    ¡°Grr. Nothing as of yet, reckless one. There are no enemy sightings, and the Centaur messenger reported there are no nearby players amounting any large combat forces unaccounted for. There is no guarantee they didn¡¯t send out a smaller raiding party though.¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­ Keep your eyes peeled. We can¡¯t afford to blindly trust their reports. Stay vigilant.¡±


    Gut snorts. ¡°Cheeky brat. What the hell do you think I¡¯m doing here anyway? Prancing around like some wimpy elf? Goblin¡¯s are always vigilant. Don¡¯t forget it.¡±


    ¡°Right, right¡­ Whatever you say¡­¡± I mumble as I break off the mental connection, but not before I take the brunt end of some really inventive profanity. I have to hand it to that wrinkled old geezer. He certainly is creative¡­


    Bah!


    There¡¯s enough time to worry about base expansion later. We have to start moving north post-haste, and we have a lot of planning to do while on the move.


    Now where is that infuriating woman¡­?


    I snap out of my internal monologue and look towards the Hobgoblin encampment. I can¡¯t really see much movement¡­ which is odd. We were supposed to move at first light. What the hell is taking her so long?


    Cursing softly, I stomp my way towards the enemy base. Wrex and a few of his goonies wordlessly form a loose defensive circle around me.


    As we approach the base, the Hobgoblin Lieutenant comes out to greet us.


    ¡°Greetings, short chieftain¡­¡±


    I sigh. ¡°Where is she? Why aren¡¯t you moving?¡± I ask the priest.


    ¡°Ah¡­ about that¡­¡± He mumbles while throwing a glance over his shoulder. ¡°Our ferocious leader is a bit of a¡­ heavy sleeper in the mornings. It¡¯s best to give her some space.¡±


    I squint. ¡°Are you kidding me? Tell her to get her ass out here right now. I don¡¯t want to waste any more time here than I have to.¡±


    ¡°That would be¡­ problematic¡­¡± The priest winces. ¡°The last time we tried to wake her up early she threw an axe at me. She made it abundantly clear she only wakes up on her own schedule. We just need to wait.¡± He says, dejected.


    ¡°Oh for the love of all that is green and holy¡­ Tell her to get her ass up before I set fire to her hut.¡± I growl at the priest.


    Warwick lets out a heavy sigh before he turns around and heads back to base. I don¡¯t doubt he was hoping I would be more understanding to his plight. Hell, I might have mustered up some sympathy for the guy. A cranky woman in the morning is no fun for anyone anywhere, no matter if you are either digital or biological. There are just some things that you universally try to avoid. Too bad for Warwick, though, I¡¯m not really in a sympathetic mood today.


    A short moment, some distant cursing and a flying axe later, Aria steps out of her hut with a mean scowl on her face. She quickly orients herself, glaring in my direction.


    ¡°Oy! Shorty! Do you want to get your tiny head smashed in? And I sure as hell ain¡¯t talking about your dick.¡±


    ¡°What? That doesn¡¯t even¡­¡± *Sigh* ¡°Whatever. Your PMS aside, it¡¯s about time we head out. I don¡¯t have time for your drama today.¡±


    Her right eye twitches. ¡°Listen here you little¡­¡±


    ¡°Step back, bitch. If you value that bloated head of yours.¡± Wrex growls while taking a step forwards, raising his cutlass in a threatening manner.


    ¡°Or what, pipsqueak?¡± She hisses at my Lieutenant.


    ¡°Oh for the love of god. This again¡­¡± I sigh. ¡°Stand down, Wrex. You two can fight each other to your heart''s content after we deal with the Minotaur. And, Aria, just get your shit together and let¡¯s move. I¡¯m sure neither one of us want to stay in each other¡¯s company any longer than we have to. Okay?¡±


    Aria grunts, not taking her eyes off Wrex. ¡°Fine. I¡¯m sick and tired of you guys, anyway.¡±


    She turns on her heel and heads off to base, shouting a few short angry commands at her hobgoblins.


    This day is going to be fun¡­ I just know it¡­


    ----------


    It takes another half hour, but we finally managed to get on our way.


    Aria brought eighteen soldiers, the entirety of her military forces. I had to bite my lip trying not to point out she shouldn¡¯t leave her base undefended. Not that she would have cared anyway. I¡¯ve become used to the fact that this woman is far too reckless for her own good. Besides, if she wants to bring everyone on this raid, it¡¯s only a good thing for me. That means there are more meatshields for me to sacrifice.


    Not that they¡¯re very impressive looking meatshields either. Of her eighteen units, besides Aria and Warwick, only three Hobgoblins have managed to rank up into [Warrior]s. Their gear isn¡¯t anything impressive, as seemingly only about half of them have a piece of armor each. Two pieces per [Warrior]. They look so weak, I¡¯m pretty sure my own goblin [Warrior]s could go toe to toe with any one of them.


    At least there¡¯s many of them though.


    Turns out, after fighting the Minotaur and clearing out a bunch of local quests, Aria managed to reach level five three days ago. The majority of her SP has gone into summoning fighters, and her base only contains the baremost of support staff. I find so many flaws with her strategy, it figuratively makes my eyes bleed. The only saving grace I could have complimented her on with her choice of strategy is if she tried to Zerg Rush her neighbours like Harvalon did. No need to point out she failed at that though¡­


    Even with what should supposedly be a vastly numerical advantage against her neighbours, she still hasn¡¯t accomplished much. Sure, she seems to have faced off against a tough opponent, but that hardly excuses her. She had a near infinite amount of options available. She could have adapted against her foe, tried to harass him down by using her numerical superiority or just plain outright swapped targets to the neighbour on the other side.


    Qargon would have been an incredibly easy opponent for her.


    Ah well¡­


    It all worked out for the best anyway. For me at least. The two remaining opponents in my biome are both weakened, and I¡¯ve allied myself with the presumably weaker one. The odds are heavily in my favor.


    There¡¯s only one potentially catastrophic variable to my plan...


    ¡°Hey, Aria! We need to set up a plan. Is there anything you can tell me about the surrounding area?¡± I ask the glum looking Hobgoblin walking in front of me. I¡¯m not even going to comment on the fact that she so casually leaves her back exposed to me like that.


    ¡­


    Nevermind, I just did.


    ¡°Huh? ¡­ Aah, Shorty. Don¡¯t sweat it. There¡¯s mostly just trees around here, and don¡¯t worry about the plan. I¡¯ll attack the bastard while you support from behind. It¡¯s going to be easy peasy.¡±


    I wince, trying my damnedest not to spit back an insult. ¡°When you say mostly, what else is out here?¡±


    ¡°Ehm. There¡¯s a big river about half an hour ahead of us. That¡¯s where most of our skirmishes have taken place. I guess he likes to hang around that area.¡±


    A river? Hmm. That seems about right. I vaguely remember that a rather wide river ran through the Minotaur¡¯s area when I scouted out the map back at base. I don¡¯t recall the specifics, as I focused mostly on Aria¡¯s territory. I didn¡¯t expect to fight the Minotaur at all during this attack, really.


    I need to know more.


    ¡°What can you tell me about the river and your skirmishes? How do you cross it? How deep is it? Where exactly did your skirmishes take place? ... Hold on a sec.¡± I halt in my tracks and take a step to the side. I find a short twig on the ground and start drawing a rough sketch from memory of the river.


    ¡°Err. I¡¯m not really too good with remembering stuff like that.¡± She sighs. ¡°Hey Warwick! Get your skinny ass over here!¡± She shouts further down the path. Soon after, the scruffy looking Hobgoblin priest hobbles his way over.


    I briefly explain what I want the Lieutenant to do, and he quickly explains what information he has about the surrounding area.


    The river is deep and the current is strong, which makes it impossible for even tier three races to cross safely on their own. However, there are three natural crossings along the riverside in the form of makeshift bridges. Which loosely translates into toppled over trees and stone outcroppings. Not exactly the image of safety, but Warwick promises the tree trunks are relatively wide enough.


    The keyword being relatively. Whatever that means¡­


    Warwick further tells of their skirmishes. They had four lesser, and one major battle along this river. Two of the lesser skirmishes were at the eastern crossing, one at the northwestern, and two lesser and one major battle at the center crossing. From what Warwick can tell me, the Hobgoblins are always the team to take the initiative in each battle, and the rough terrain is the primary reason they have suffered such large losses.


    What intrigues me by this, though, is that the Minotaurs seems to have shown up with a relatively huge force during each encounter. I doubt the Minotaurs have enough units to effectively cover each and every crossing, which suggests the Minotaur has some sort of forward scouts or intelligence network to predict our movements. Considering his quick reaction time and efficiency, it¡¯s probably magic related.


    This could spell trouble.


    I hope he doesn¡¯t have access to Divination magic like the centaurs, but it¡¯s reasonably safe to assume he at least has access to some sort of scrying magic. I already know their chieftain has a [Warrior] oriented class, and his advisor was a [Shaman] type. I know for a fact they trained more [Shaman]s before the Advisor¡¯s untimely demise. In common fantasy lore, shamans often have access to nature oriented scrying magic, be it the common long range far sight ability or some sort of elemental short range sensory skills.


    If it¡¯s either one of those types, I seriously hope the latter is the case, or else our approach might already have been revealed. That would completely shatter our strongest weapon, which is the element of surprise. Naturally, the best outcome would be if only the dead [Advisor] knew how to use this kind of magic, but it would be foolish of me to make that assumption. I guess I just have to assume the worst and act with care, hoping I¡¯m just being paranoid.


    Nevertheless, we need to take precautions.


    I frown as I dive deep into my own thoughts. I¡¯m not sure how long it takes, but I eventually snap out of it. I raise my head and notice both Aria and all of our Lieutenants have gathered around me, patiently awaiting my next words.


    I release a deep breath.


    ¡°Alright, here is what we are going to do¡­¡±

 Chapter 27 – Conflict

    Chapter 27 ¨C Conflict


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡­


    ¡°What do you mean no?¡±


    ¡°Because it sounds like a stupid fucking plan. We should just attack straight up. Your tactic is way too convoluted and unnecessary.¡± Aria states as she crosses her arms.


    ¡°Convoluted? What the hell? It¡¯s just a freaking pincer attack¡­ It¡¯s not like I¡¯m telling you to try and catch a greased up pig on an ice skating course.¡± I frown.


    ¡°Tssk. Will you shut the fuck up!? I¡¯ve had it with your god damned condescending attitude. I say your approach suck balls, so how about you just work with me here rather than bitching?¡± She hisses at me, her glare filled with seething rage.


    I clench my teeth while I glare right back at her.


    She says that I am the one bitching? Seriously? This¡­ This fucking¡­


    AARGH!


    I turn my gaze away from her. I kick a small pebble, watching it bounce off a nearby tree.


    Trying to calm myself, and failing, I turn my glare back towards Aria.


    ¡°Why do you insist on fighting me on everything I say or do?¡± I can feel my jaw starting to shake due to the strain. A drop of sweat trickles down my chin as a vein throbs on my forehead.


    She stares me down. Her face mirroring the anger of my own. ¡°Because you piss me the fuck off.¡±


    ¡°ME!?¡± I yell, finally losing my cool. ¡°I piss YOU off!? Are you fucking shitting me!? What on god¡¯s green fucking earth have I done to piss YOU off!? Did I piss on your grandmother¡¯s grave or something?¡± I shout at the woman.


    She takes a step forward, sticking her index finger into my face. ¡°Of course it¡¯s you! You and every single one of the asshole¡¯s like you. You strut around on that high fucking horse of yours, looking down on everyone else and everything they do. Do you seriously think you are better than everyone else!? Just because your dad pampered your ass from the moment you got pulled out of your mother with a silver spoon stuck between your cheeks!?


    You rich little snots disgust me. I¡¯ve had to deal with you little cunts telling me what to do, how to behave, how to kiss their asses all my life. It¡¯s because of pretentious little shits like you I¡¯m even in here. You and that cuntsack of a Minotaur. I¡¯ll make you all pay.¡± She screams at me. Her face red from all her shouting.


    ¡­


    Her sudden rant dazes me. Did she just? ¡­ Did she just compare me to¡­ No¡­ What the¡­


    I take a step back, falling on my ass. All energy drained from my body.


    ¡­


    Is that really how she sees me?


    My mind overflows with thoughts and emotions. How did that happen? I try to look back. Try to remember how she could have come to that conclusion.


    A series of memories swirl around in my head. From the moment I first met Aria, how I first met her in battle. How she came to me after the battle, trying to reason with me. How I acted towards her, forcing her to accept my terms and condition.


    How I insulted her intelligence. How I criticized her units, her base¡­ her hard work. How I continuously only view her as a lesser being than me. A disposable pawn to use at my own discretion to further my own selfish goals. How I demand she follows my every order.


    Just like Richard acts...


    I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I would vomit if I could. How did this happen? How did I become so much like Richard? What the hell is wrong with me?


    My eyes wander over towards Aria. Her face still red with anger while her chest heaves at her deep breaths. Her psyche appearing just as shaken as mine.


    When did I become this cynical?


    I try to look back further, trying to figure out when it all went wrong. How did I treat Lydia? What about Qargon? Did they also perceive me like this? The very thing I despise with my whole being?


    Is this why Gut acts the way he does?


    Oh my god. I¡¯ve been acting like a dick, haven¡¯t I? I once more look over at Aria. She seems to have calmed down somewhat, a hint of confusion mixing with her angry glare.


    I take a deep breath, feeling my throat grow unnaturally tense.


    ¡°Do you know what? ¡­ I¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± I say, allowing my breath to slowly seep out. I can see her eyes widen in slight surprise. ¡°I don¡¯t really know what came over me. What I¡­ No. I acted like a complete dick. You were the one to reach out to me, and I treated you like crap. I don¡¯t really have any excuses. I¡¯m sorry. Can you forgive me?¡± I close my eyes, trying to calm my body. I wait for Aria to respond, but she doesn¡¯t utter a single word.


    Waiting for a few tense moments, I slowly open my eyes, expecting to meet Aria¡¯s gaze. She stands in the same spot as earlier, but she turned her head to the side. Hey cheeks are puffed up and her brows are knitted together. In some unexplainable manner, I¡¯d say she looks insanely cute right now.


    I sigh. ¡°You know¡­ I think we have a lot in common.¡± I mutter.


    This causes her to turn her head back towards me. One of her eyebrows raised, revealing the bloodshot eye beneath.


    ¡°...We do?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t really know your story, but I think I get you. I have a few bad experiences with a bunch of rich assholes too.¡±


    I proceed to tell her my story from the last few years. From the moment my mother died, up until the moment Richard and his posse broke me. I told her of how I, in a fit of rage, gambled everything I had to get a shot at revenge in the most ridiculous manner conceivable. I open the valves to my emotions and tell her everything. How everything made me feel, how I lash out at everything around me. Not even once do I stop to think that I¡¯m acting like a wuss. Whining to a woman I hardly know anything about. There¡¯s just something about Aria and the situation. I don¡¯t know. It just feels great to finally open up.


    The best part of it all, is that Aria doesn¡¯t interrupt me once. She doesn¡¯t wrinkle her nose, she doesn¡¯t laugh at me. She doesn¡¯t even pity me. She just sits there with a calm expression, listening to everything I say.


    When I finally say my piece, Aria closes her eyes. She doesn¡¯t say anything, which I feel oddly grateful for. She eventually opens her eyes, diverting her eyes from meeting mine.


    ¡°I suppose your tactic doesn¡¯t sound too bad. I¡¯ll do my part.¡± She mutters, getting up on her feet. ¡°I¡¯ll take my units and head out. Give me a heads up when it¡¯s time to attack.¡±


    Without another word, she walks off into the forest, Warwick following at her heel.


    I sigh.


    I don¡¯t really know what just happened, or what repercussions it will have down the line. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time I made a woman awkward, and it certainly won¡¯t be the last. I¡¯ll just cross my fingers and hope it will all be for the best.


    Releasing another deep breath, I get up and start ordering my Goblins around. We have a lot of preparations to get done, and not much time to do it.


    ----------


    My forces head north at a rapid pace.


    Aria and her crew headed east to the closest crossing about half an hour ago, which should give her plenty of a headstart to make a lot of ruckus.


    Her objective is to draw the attention of the enemy forces by attacking the eastern crossing and setting up a perimeter. From there, she is supposed to try and goad the enemy into attacking her, while showing off the entirety of her forces, while also trying to avoid a direct confrontation and keep losses to a minimum.


    This is all a distraction however, as our real goal is for me to rapidly flank through the center crossing, setting myself up in an advantageous position to ambush the Minotaur [Shaman]s as soon as combat commences. Splitting up in this manner is necessary, as we can¡¯t allow ourselves to be bottlenecked on a single crossing. That¡¯s the main reason Aria have struggled to make any sort of headway against the Minotaur so far. It¡¯s just too easy to defend a bridge with a smaller force as long as your units are physically stronger.


    The trick is to try and take away their advantage.


    I thought long and hard about what to do. I work out from the assumption that the [Shaman]s have some sort of divination ability. I also dare risk assuming their magic is limited by range, and thus they still have no idea Aria and I are allied. Since Aria brought the entirety of her combat force, the enemy should have the entirety of their focus on her units. It¡¯s all really risky, since I have no idea if the Minotaur even knows anything about my involvement.


    At least I made some precautions.


    I ordered Kain to follow Aria and her group while keeping [Stealth] active at all times. This should allow for him to avoid detection from the enemy scryers, while also allowing him to function as an information relay between our separated forces. Since the Minotaur should have anything between twelve to sixteen units, Kain should be able to relay to me if our plan failed or not.


    The plan isn¡¯t foolproof though. I made a few extra precautions, while also making sure to keep my advance as hasty as possible. The more time I give the enemy [Shaman]s to spot me, the more time I give the enemy to prepare.


    If this tactic succeeds, it will give us a huge advantage against the Minotaur. Of course, we could just attack all three crossings at once and fortify the crossing we face the least amount of resistance on, thus negating as much risk as possible. This would allow us a foothold on enemy territory to bring the full size of our force to bear against their base.


    The problem with this tactic, however, is that it gives away our element of surprise, allowing for the Minotaur to regroup and make a run for it. Setting up shop anywhere else and waste our time. Time I¡¯m not comfortable wasting as long as my own base remains badly defended. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    I want to finish this quickly.


    We make good time running through the dense forest. The agile Goblin bodies make traversing through the rough terrain a ridiculously easy feat. In what feels like no time at all, we reach the center crossing.


    What meets my eyes is beyond any of my expectations. I knew the river was wide and deep, but I didn¡¯t expect the river to be this rough. The water rages downstream, causing massive waves to slam into the bank of the river. This is far different from my own local river, which feels like a slightly trickling puddle in comparison. This however, is a river designed to kill.


    I knew the environment is supposed to be a huge part of the game, but seriously? This river could kill even professional rafters. There is no way my tiny Goblins would survive at all if they fell in.


    My eyes locate the crossing point. It¡¯s a wide, half-rotten log stretching straight across. I like the details added into it, as the branches have been cut off long ago, and a soft layer of moss covers the entirety of the log. It¡¯s pretty wide too, as I estimate two of my Goblins could walk side by side with a little room to spare. It still looks dangerous as hell though...


    I shake my head. I¡¯m really glad I don¡¯t have to do active combat while crossing the river.


    I order my Goblins to hide in the shrubbery on our side of the river.


    ¡°Hey Kain! How¡¯s it looking on your end?¡± I ask Kain through the [Communication] skill.


    ¡°Things are looking good so far, chief. Aria is being quite¡­ inventive¡­ trying to goad the enemy to attack. So far, they don¡¯t seem willing to cross¡­ But, the Minotaur leader seems like he¡¯s ready to throw a fit.¡± He chuckles through the link.


    I smile. ¡°Good. How many enemies do you see?¡±


    ¡°Ehrmm¡­I see eleven [Warrior]s and two [Shaman]s. It seems like the Hob¡¯s estimates were on the lower side.¡±


    ¡°Great. Tell Aria to increase the racket for a minute, will you? We are about ready to cross. I want the enemy [Shaman]s full attention at her.¡±


    ¡°Roger that, chief! Give me twenty seconds.¡± He says while cutting off the connection.


    My smile widens. That guy is so reliable! I need to treat him to some of Gut¡¯s wineskin after this is all over.


    I silently count to twenty before I have my Goblins hurry across the log.


    We scramble past at top speed. Wrex takes the lead while I¡¯m safely at the back of the party. You know, just incase we¡¯re rushing into an ambush of our own. I watch how Wrex charges shield first across the log alongside most of his veteran [Warrior]s. I hold my breath as I expect the worst.


    I can finally exhale as Wrex¡¯s feet touch ground on the other side, and as his soldiers fan out into the forest on the other side.


    Good.


    I quickly dismount Scarfang and start crossing myself. Time is of an issue, and I¡¯d like to cross as quickly as possible to avoid being spotted by a random scrying spell.


    Safely across, my Goblins take up position in the nearby shrubbery. Wrex takes point setting up a perimeter, while I try and survey our immediate surroundings. Satisfied there are no nearby enemies, I gather up my troops. Currently, I have a sizeable force of twenty-six combat capable Goblins including myself, two wolves and a [Hauler]. That should be plenty to take out the Minotaurs.


    Counting my troops, I notice how I have an excessively high amount of ranged units. That¡¯s not bad, per say, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯s necessary for what I plan to do. It¡¯s always good to keep some units in reserve just in case of problems. Besides, I only have one Commander with me, and adding the one level in [Command] he gained in the skirmish against Aria, he can now effectively manage eighteen Goblins. A few Goblins too short of optimal utilization of his ability.


    I decide to leave the female [Scout] alongside her wolf, two [Archer]s, a [Fire Mage], the [Hauler] and three of the fresh [Warrior]s behind to secure our escape path. That leaves us with an optimal number of Goblins for Wrex¡¯s war party, as well as adequate defence against any stray Minotaur trying to retake the crossing.


    Satisfied with my choice, I quickly order Wrex to take lead into the forest heading east. Time is of the essence, and I¡¯d rather end this sooner rather than later.


    It takes us another forty minutes or so to make our way through the dense vegetation. I¡¯m pretty sure we could easily have made it in half that time, but I can¡¯t risk being seen. There is too much hinging on us making the perfect ambush.


    We eventually reach a small hill overlooking the crossing. My goblins quickly scamper into nearby bushes, keeping an eye out for any enemy sentries.


    A thick branched off log crosses the raging river beneath. The crossing is pretty much similar to the center crossing, the only difference being the higher elevation of the river bank and the menacing groups of Minotaurs and Hobgoblins throwing mean glares and insults at each other from either side of the river. I can easily spot Aria standing atop a boulder, yelling profanities at the Minotaurs with all her might.


    I smirk at how efficient that loudmouthed woman can be even when she is doing it intentionally.


    My eyes wander over to the Minotaurs at my side of the river. I can easily spot a plate-armored Minotaur standing by the river, wielding a large steel tower shield and with an equally impressive looking steel axe gripped tightly in his hand.


    I squint when I notice his figure. My stomach tightens as a glint of recognition crosses my mind. I didn¡¯t know it for certain, but it¡¯s definitely him. He may be prancing around as a heavily armored bull-man, but those facial features is still a striking resemblance to a certain sadistic mountain of fat and muscles I know.


    That asshole is definitely Keith Simmons, Richard¡¯s personal henchman.


    My jaw clenches as my eyes lock onto one of my mortal foes. I was certain my personalized quest to take revenge on five players involved the tormentors of my past, but a certain part of me refused to believe it would be this convenient.


    I can feel my heart throbbing against my chest. Sweat gathers in my palms and my body is slightly shaking.


    I am so close. So close to finally strike back. To take some small shimmer of revenge. Just taking Keith out will make all of this worth it.


    I turn around and look at my surrounding troops. They all look upon me in anticipation. Wrex¡¯s eyes look upon me. Pure bloodlust smeared all over his face as his toothy grin showlights his eagerness to attack. His bloodlust is addicting. We are so close.


    I turn my eyes back over towards the Minotaur forces. I silently count eleven Minotaur [Warrior]s and two [Shaman]s standing around Keith. Their backs are turned towards me.


    This is perfect.


    My body aches to spring into action. I don¡¯t want to waste any more time. I steel myself for long enough to send a mental command to Kain to commence the two pronged assault.


    I take a deep breath while I slowly count to then. I need to calm myself enough to avoid making any mistakes, and also give Kain time tell Aria to prepare to storm across the bridge.


    ¡­


    ¡°Wrex, take point. Our target is the two [Shaman]s at the back. Keep your formation tight and be as quiet as possible. Don¡¯t give them time to react.¡± I glance over my shoulder. ¡°Ranged units, stay close to the forest and be prepared to retreat at a moment¡¯s notice. Keep the enemy from flanking Wrex¡¯s group. Our objective is to cause enough chaos and confusion to buy Aria and her units time to safely cross the river. Whatever happens, your survival comes first. Killing the [Shaman]s is second. Is everyone ready?¡±


    A soft chorus of affirmations comes from my small warband.


    I take another deep breath. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±


    My goblins stream down the hill and into the small clearing. Wrex and his [Warrior]s move with a quiet grace, their sole focus is the two Minotaur [Shaman]s at the back. I hold my breath as I cock my crossbow, taking aim at the closest of the [Shaman]s. They are close¡­


    Wrex is rapidly closing in on the enemy. He hasn¡¯t been noticed yet. I estimate he¡¯s about fifteen meters out. I release my breath to steady my aim, and fire.


    My bolt loosens as it soars towards the Minotaurs. My other ranged Goblin¡¯s fire immediately follows, all soaring towards the same target. I once more inhale as I watch the descending arrows and spells. I can see how the Minotaur¡¯s finally starts to stir, noticing something is off.


    With a roar, Keith¡¯s avatar leaps forwards and raises his shield against the incoming projectiles. The majority of the arrows impacts the shield with a heavy thud, bouncing harmlessly to the side. An arrow and a fireball flies over the shield though, hitting the [Shaman] in his arm, while also knocking the axe out of a [Warrior]s grip.


    My eyes goes wide in shock. What the hell is up with that reaction speed? It¡¯s almost as if he knew¡­


    Oh crap.


    ¡°Everyone! Retreat back to the-¡± My yell is cut short by a series of roars from the forest behind us. I manage to turn my head fast enough to see four Minotaur [Warrior]s charging through the underbrush behind us.


    My ranged units hardly have time to react before the ambushing Minotaurs reach us. I watch how the scout¡¯s arm is brutally severed by the cut of a large axe and an [Archer] is stomped to paste by a charging monstrosity.


    ¡°Spread out! Run!¡± I yell as I dash into the clearing. I don¡¯t have time to worry about the fate of my units as I try to put as much distance as I can from the enemies. Their angle of attack cutting off our best escape route.


    The only chance we have is to move forwards.


    I charge forwards full sprint. Wrex and his fellow [Warrior]s are fighting a losing battle. The Minotaurs were too quick to react, and they are currently hammering their much shorter opponents with devastating blows. Two of my [Warrior]s have already fallen, and the rest are dodging the powerful strikes by the skin of their teeth, too busy trying to stay alive to even think about striking back. The only Goblin able to fight back is Wrex, who is currently exchanging blows against Keith himself.


    The battle isn¡¯t going to well, as Keith is raining heavy blows against the much shorter Lieutenant. Wrex is deftly dodging the strikes, moving in to try and capitalize on every chance he gets. He already dropped his [Steel Buckler], the piece of armor too heavy and too brittle to serve any purpose.


    A loud roar resounds across the battlefield.


    Everyone¡¯s eyes are instantly drawn towards the crossing. A fierce looking Hobgoblin wielding a twin set of [Steel Axe]s storm across thick log. A whole host of Hobgoblins following in her wake.


    Four of the Minotaurs disengage my Goblins to face the incoming reinforcements. The screaming creatures raising their weapons, preparing to strike down the female Hobgoblin. Grinning, Aria lowers her upper body and increases her speed, dropping to the ground and sliding under the swinging swords of the Minotaurs. Dodging the blows, she quickly turns and slashes at the ankle of a nearby Minotaur. The axe cuts deep, and the Minotaur topples forwards, crying out in agony.


    Aria wastes no time getting back on her feet. Having managed to cross past the enemy defensive line, she strikes the Minotaurs from behind while her own minions pushes forwards from the bridge.


    Meanwhile, another of my Goblin [Warrior]s screams are cut short as he fails to dodge a tree trunk sized mace from a Minotaur. The Minotaur roars in victory as he survey the battlefield. His eyes quickly lock onto me. A wide grin forms on his lips as he starts rushing towards me, preparing to mercilessly run me down.


    A breath catches in my throat as I watch the approaching train of muscles and death. My head darts from the Minotaur to my surroundings, trying to spot something I can use. I spot a few rock outcroppings near the riverbank. Making a snap decision, I turn on my heel, trying to change my direction. The sudden change in my direction surprises the Minotaur. He lowers his speed, allowing for him to adjust his own trajectory.


    I run as if hellhounds are chasing me. Which to be honest, they might as well be. I¡¯m much closer to the rocks than the Minotaur, but my legs are also about half his size. I don¡¯t bother looking back in my single minded escape. My ears pick up the increasing sound of stomping hooves approaching from behind. The constant thumping only spurring me further on.


    The distance to the rocks is rapidly closing, and my skin starts crawling as I can figuratively feel the Minotaurs breath on my neck. With only a meter to go, I throw myself forwards like a baseball player with a grudge. My body hits the ground hard, sliding me behind a small boulder. The sound of an axe splitting earth reverberates in my ears as I realise how close I came to dying.


    I roll over on my side, looking up at the Minotaur [Warrior] towering above me, his red eyes glowing with hatred. He exhales sharply through his snout as he raises his axe above his head.


    I faintly reach for the dagger at my waist. With a desperate flick, I throw the dagger at the Minotaur. Noticing the approaching dagger, the Minotaur steps back, bending his neck out of the way. The dagger nicks the tip of his snout, causing a small amount of blood to trail the dagger¡¯s path.


    Surprised by the sudden attack, the Minotaur stares wide eyed at me. This only last for a moment however, until he starts grinning. Knowing his pray is out of options, he takes a threatening step forwards. His gaze telling me he won¡¯t end me quickly.


    That¡¯s his mistake.


    A blur of gray quickly moves in from the side and impacts the Minotaur from the side. The surprising projectile catches the Minotaur completely by surprise, throwing him off balance. The Minotaur tumbles sideways and rolls off the side of the riverbank. My heart skips a beat as a loud splash reaches me ears.


    ¡°Now who¡¯s the goodest dog ever!?¡± I shout. Scarfang jumps gleefully towards me. ¡°Yeah that¡¯s you, you magnificent bastard.¡± I say while hugging the rugged gray fur. ¡°Perfect timing!¡±


    My celebration is cut short by the screams of another Goblin piercing the air. I jump to my feet and move my eyes towards the direction I came. My eyes widen in shock.


    The four Minotaur [Warrior]s who ambushed us is chasing my Goblins all over the battlefield. Another [Archer] has fallen, and the [Fire Mage] is currently screaming his lungs out as he is assaulted by a swarm of wasps. Further behind, I spot a large Minotaur wielding a gnarled wooden staff and wearing a leather chest piece painted white with three green dots in a triangular pattern across it¡¯s torso. He grins wickedly as he orders the Minotaurs to attack my scattered Goblins.


    I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. My mind not quite able to make heads or tails of the situation.


    Isn¡¯t that guy supposed to be dead!?