The Dragon's Revenge Page 24

  [Channel Sapentia/Klytotoxos] ‘Six fence posts is two seconds.’

  [Channel Sapentia/Klytotoxos] ‘Got it, thanks.’ I saw what Sapentia meant: when the gap between Verida and the warrior was longer than that between six fence posts, she had time to cast Flame Draw again.

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Verida] ‘Clear for two seconds.’

  And I saw her pause, cast, run.

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Verida] ‘Thank you.’

  Five PC avatars were standing among the trees, watching.

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Raitha] ‘Making you a group leader. Can you snag the newcomers, brief them and make sure they don’t come in too hard?’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Raitha] ‘Certainly.’

  In a few minutes the raid was up to forty-five players. Not bad. During those minutes, the kite had held and the dark elf had lost about 10 per cent of his hit points. Happiness began to well up in my chest, not that I allowed myself to believe in success just yet. In fact, my intuition was pessimistic: the kite would break. These might all be good players in theory but only my initial raiders were tried and tested at reducing a mob’s hit points while allowing a relatively low-level druid or shaman to keep the necessary aggro to kite.

  Around the church ran Verida. Around the church ran the dark elf warrior. And all the while, streams of missiles and spells flew towards him.

  When our enemy was on about three-quarters of his initial hit points, he escaped the kite. One second, he was following the druid, a mindless piece of software, stuck in a routine that was slowly going to see him melt away. The next, he was leaping over the fence and slashing his way through the raid, ferocity incarnate. Someone had overdone their damage.

  As the players fell and were rapidly being greyed out on the raid screen, I leapt to all fours and shouted out to the raid channel, overriding the voices that were surging up in consternation. [Rescue] ‘Raitha, Glarinson with me. Verida, Tuscl, stay out of it until he stops killing people then lead him as far south as you can. Nobody else is to run. If you get his aggro just die.’

  There was a lot of chat in my group, in the raid channel and in the small flashing signals of incoming one-to-one calls. Ignoring them all, I ran towards the village main street. As I exited the alley between the two shops, Raitha landed on the horserail in front of the blacksmith’s.

  ‘What is your plan?’

  ‘Pull all of the mobs ahead of us that you can northwards. I’ll fight whichever ones remain and hope they don’t have weapons that can harm me.’

  ‘Hah, simple to say. Let’s see if it’s as easy to execute.’ With that, Raitha threw himself into the air, wings beating heavily to get enough momentum (I felt the buffeting effect on my cheeks, which was very smart of the helmet). Screaming loudly with his shrill eagle’s cry, he flapped through the group of eight dark elves and out the other side. Several of them began the chase.

  One threw aside her cloak and raised her arms, chanting. With a great bound I slammed into her back before her spell was finished and as she staggered forward, began my bite attacks.

  You have failed to bite a dark elf.

  You have failed to claw a dark elf.

  Oh well, at least the spell she had planned for Raitha had failed. He was now safely away and leading - I checked quickly - six dark elves out of the village. There was just this spell caster and one other remaining, a cleric, probably, to judge from the mace he was bringing down on my shoulder.

  You have been struck by a mace for 0 damage.

  Thank goodness. Although it allowed the caster to get to her feet, I swapped to the cleric for a round of attacks and then back to her. With me missing all the time and them doing no damage, this would be a very long fight. Except that I just had to keep them occupied for a few minutes.

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Glarinson] ‘Call everyone in please. And tell them to run east as soon as they arrive.’ It seemed to me that the fields to our east and the nearby line of trees was the best hope that the players would have for a quick escape.

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Glarinson] ‘Will do.’

  Wanting to know what was happening with the level 62 warrior, but not wanting to disturb Tuscl or Verida, I went back to the raid channel, even though it was full of people asking for a Restore Life, or for a teleport back to the bodies.

  [Channel Rescue] ‘Did Verida or Tuscl get to move him south?’

  No one answered, the voices in my ears were all too busy trying to sort out their individual problems.

  [Channel Rescue] ‘SSssilensse!’ shouted Grythiss, extremely loudly. ‘Raid leader ssspeaks.’

  [Channel Rescue] ‘Thank you, Grythiss. Is anyone alive to report on the situation at the church?’

  [Channel Rescue] ‘Is Tuscl here. Verida is dead. I’m trying to move him south but he keeps turning back and running towards the village.’

  [Channel Rescue] ‘Don’t let him. We just need one minute or so more.’

  There was no answer and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears above the sounds of my battle with the two dark elves. This was going to be close. If only the trapped players could arrive in game now, they’d escape. Come on, I urged them in my thoughts, come on. Even if they had been standing by with helmets and gloves on, it still took about a minute for your avatar to synchronise to the world of Epic 2. If that intelligent dark elf warrior came back to the village first, he’d cut them down before they took ten steps. Should I break off…? If these guards were more or less fixed here, our incoming players could escape them more easily than the roaming level 62 warrior.

  Spinning around, ignoring the attacks of my two enemies, I ran south and as I did so, Tuscl went grey on the raid screen (along with everyone else, there were just Raitha and I remaining who were green).

  A second later: [Channel Rescue] ‘Is Tuscl here. I died. I just couldn’t get him to aggro me without getting too close.’

  And here was the dark elf leader, sword still drawn, charging up the road. When he saw me, however, he slowed and a charming, if wicked, smile appeared on his face.

  ‘Hello again, wolf who tries to deceive.’

  ‘Hello my clever friend,’ I replied, attempting to sound just as relaxed as he did, although the truth was I was all fired up with the urgency of the situation. Our missing players would be arriving in the village in a matter of seconds.

  ‘I’ve killed all your comrades…’

  ‘And now you are going to kill me. Yes, I’m familiar with those kinds of lines. I’m sorry to point out though, that you’ve overlooked something important.’

  While we spoke, he sauntered forward, no doubt with a view to closing to the point at which he could thrust that dangerous longsword at me. I skittered to my left.

  ‘What have I overlooked?’ he seemed genuinely curious, his wonderfully animated face depicting puzzlement.

  ‘The position of the moons.’ This was a rather random statement on my part, inspired by the fact that both moons were high above the outline of the buildings behind the warrior and being near full, appeared to be two large, uneven and tilted eyes peering down at us.

  As I hoped, he glanced up to check and the moment he did I rushed past him, escaping before he could land a blow. Now he was fully turned about and although he was clearly undecided about moving in my direction, his attention was fully on me.

  ‘What about the moons?’

  ‘I’m a werewolf, remember. When you fought me earlier, I was not at full strength. Not by a long way. Now the power of the moons is coursing through my blood. Now I can devour you. Or better, leave you with wounds that when they heal, will make you one of my kind.’

  To my surprise, the warrior seemed to take this threat seriously, or at least he was pretending to. The point of his sword wavered, then dipped towards the ground; his shoulders slumped; his emerald eyes dimmed. Then he sprang at me.

  It was no good, I’d been prepared for this and leapt to the side with a laugh. ‘Oh, come on.’

  Letting out a roar of annoyance, he
tried again with a dramatic lunge. And again I swerved away. There were new colours and motions further up the main street. I had to stay focused on the warrior though. Dark elves were extremely nimble, even the plate-wearing classes. I had the measure of him, but not by much and even now his feints and genuine attacks were mixed together with real skill, as he tried to lure me into having my weight on the wrong feet when his fiercest attacks were launched.

  After three more attempts, the warrior seemed to realise something was wrong. Perhaps it was in the fact that I didn’t run away when the opportunity arose. Taking a step back, he turned and what he saw made him scream. ‘No!’

  A female hunter was running eastwards out of the village, having escaped the two dark elves, who just stood there, idle, evidently limited by their programming to remaining in their assigned positions.

  Breaking into a sprint, the warrior gave chase and I set off too.

  Another moonlit run through the forest. Our hunter was a half-elf and moved well, vaulting over a stile and into a ploughed field, leaving a clear line of footprints in the soft soil. She wasn’t quite fast enough though; the warrior was gaining on her. Crashing through brambles and ferns, she entered the forest. At which point, I turned back, making for the main street as fast as I could.

  ‘Hey guys, remember me?’

  The two NPCs in the village clearly lacked any AI: no witty banter; no reference to our previous encounter. Their only greeting a raised mace in the case of the cleric and raised arms in the case of the caster, as she prepared to nuke me. Fine. All the while I bit and clawed at these two (hardly ever hitting successfully), I was scanning around. As I had anticipated, our half-elf druid, having been caught and killed, suddenly respawned beside me.

  ‘Run west!’ I shouted at her. ‘Run west now!’

  It took several painfully long seconds, but she understood me at last and set off in the right direction, away from the route that would be taken by the Level 62 warrior as he hurried back. Perhaps the fact that a wolf was barking orders at her had put her off.

  Behind me came a male voice. ‘They are all in. Need me or should I run too?’

  With a quick glance, I saw Glarinson had returned to the game. ‘Thanks, good job. Better run west and stay alive. I’ll make you group leader. Try to round up those players who’ve just clipped up.’

  ‘Will do.’

  For about a minute, there was just me and the two dark elves in the village, hammering away at each other to no effect.

  I’d positioned myself to have a good view eastwards, and as soon as the high-level warrior ran into the main street I broke off combat and ran southwards.

  ‘You’re too late,’ I called out to him as I sprinted away.

  ‘No!’ In a fury, he shook his sword at me. The last I saw of his expression, though, was dismay.

  [Rescue] ‘Quiet please.’ I waited a moment for the two people who were talking in the raid channel to stop. ‘I have good news. Despite all the deaths, our mission at Middlehampton has been a success. Our seven comrades are back in the game. We will now take a break for one hour while everyone who needs to, relocates their spawn points to a safe place. Those who require a teleport to reclaim their bodies please arrange it with Sapentia. Next, we meet up west of the Temple of Mov. Be there in an hour please.’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Sapentia] ‘I’m going to take a break. Will you be raid leader and manage the logistics of ports and moving spawn points?’

  [Channel Sapentia/Klytotoxos] ‘I am honoured.’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Borthar] ‘Hi, are you in game?’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Borthar] ‘How can I help?’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Borthar] ‘I’m going to take a break. I could meet with Mr Watson for about forty minutes if that suited?’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Borthar] ‘I’m sure he will be pleased to hear that. I’ll let him know.’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Raitha] ‘Heading out. Meet you in forty minutes to run to the temple together.’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Raitha] ‘Certainly. These dark elves who have been chasing me will no doubt be relieved when I fly off and let them return to the village.’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Raitha] ‘No doubt.’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Raitha] ‘And Tyro?’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Raitha] ‘Well done indeed. I believe you will have proven your worth to everyone in this endeavour.’

  [Channel Klytotoxos/Raitha] ‘Thank you.’

  Had I though? It was time to go and speak to Watson and find out.

  Chapter 18

  Arrow of Dragon Slaying

  I’d never seen a view like the one from Watson’s office. Well, perhaps in a film. Blue sky filled most of it. If I looked down, I could see grey and brown rooftops as well as a sizeable stretch of green, which was the Golden Gate Park. Then there was the iconic, red suspension bridge, a vast amount of deep blue sea and Alcatraz island. Plenty to look at and if I were Watson, I’d probably spend hours daydreaming, staring out of my windows.

  The room itself was large enough to contain his desk, a private Epic 2 rig and a coffee table, around which was a couch and four comfortable, thickly padded, brown leather chairs. Present were Watson, Blackridge, Katherine Demnayako, myself and Braja, whom I had asked along, partly to fill him in on what had happened as we took the elevator upwards, mostly to have a witness in case there was a row.

  Sprawled in the corner of the couch, arm resting along the back, Braja appeared to be very relaxed. I, on the other hand, probably looked anxious, though I tried not to. I was on the other end of the couch, sitting forwards, hands on knees.

  ‘This is an informal conversation, off the record, so to speak,’ said Watson, who looked slightly comedic in his bright glasses, sky-blue, short-sleeved shirt and flannel shorts. His voice, however, was severe and earnest. ‘Let’s speak our minds here and work out where we are at.’

  ‘Paul, why don’t you start.’ Watson gestured to Blackridge, sitting to his right. Black shirt and trousers, wet hair, like he’d just showered, and heavy face. From this angle, looking up at him, Blackridge reminded me of a pixelated character from a kid’s game, so solid was his head.

  ‘Well, thanks to Tyro - Tom, I mean - we are nearly back on course. If we can have another month, I think we’ll get there. Even if we have to tell the players stuck in Fort Hellsmouth to start over.’

  Apart from the unexpected compliment from the man who had just tried to fire me, Blackridge didn’t really interest me: I had been watching Watson. When the idea of an extra month was expressed, a sharp twinge crossed Watson’s bearded face like he’d been stabbed.

  ‘That’s out,’ Watson said immediately and with surprising vehemence. Then he drew a breath and spoke more calmly, in the fashion I’d become used to, which was much more gentle and mannerly. ‘You all need to know something about our investors.’ He peered over the top of his blue glasses and I felt he was giving me particular attention. ‘Strictly between ourselves, they are the founders of Blackcoin.’

  No one stirred while Watson seemed to be examining each one of us for a reaction. When I caught Braja’s eye, he gave a slight twitch of his lips, as if to say, Interesting.

  ‘There are five people,’ continued Watson, ‘who paid for Epic Two in the belief it would net them hundreds of millions of new Blackcoin users. They are in very deep. If they don’t see progress soon, they will be angry. And I’m in the firing line. When I say firing, I don’t just mean losing my job. These are, what you might call, non-traditional business people.’

  ‘AKA mafia?’ offered Braja.

  ‘Something like.’ Watson rubbed at his mouth. ‘So, let’s focus on what we can achieve in six weeks. Tom, is it still possible to deliver plan A?’

  ‘I’m not here because you’re going to send me home? You want my advice?’

  Watson shook his head. ‘You are doing a great job, Tom. And yes, I want your advice. Can you build a raid capable of killing the dragon in six weeks?’

&
nbsp; ‘Not in six weeks, no. Maybe in ten.’

  ‘That’s what I think too.’ Watson shot a look at Blackridge, who lowered his head rather than challenge this statement.

  ‘Then we have to turn to plan B,’ Watson continued, ‘even though I’m not sure it is achievable either.’

  ‘What’s plan B?’ I asked.

  Watson waved towards Katherine, who was dressed smartly in a grey suit and who now leaned forward to place a colourful A3 graphic on the table. ‘In brief, it’s a crafting route that leads to the creation of Arrows of Dragon Slaying. These are arrows that do twenty-five thousand damage to dragons.’

  Braja whistled. ‘You’d only need, what, just four hits with those for Mikarkathat?’

  ‘Three,’ Katherine gave him a thin smile.

  ‘How hard is it to make them?’ I leaned forward, interested.

  ‘That’s the issue,’ said Watson. ‘Here.’ He steered the diagram towards me. ‘You’ll have to share,’ he added apologetically, ‘I was only expecting Tyro.’

  Both Braja and I leaned forward and Braja placed the sheet of paper so that it was exactly square with the lines of the table and an equal distance between us. The design looked a bit like a drawing for a knockout sports competition, with hundreds of starting points narrowing down towards a final box:

  Arrow of Dragon Slaying

  Requirements: Hunter, minimum level 50, Archery 250

  +5 to hit, +50m to range, +25,000 damage to dragons

  The sheet had dozens of insert boxes, with interesting titles like The Undersea Ruins of Asthraxia. These were regions of the Epic 2 world and there were lists in each of them of the items that needed to be collected for various stages of the crafting process; in the case of the undersea ruins, for example, we needed to obtain a turquoise pearl, strand of Kelpie hair and octopus ink.

  ‘Why didn’t we do this from the beginning?’ I wondered aloud.

  ‘It’s not as easy as it looks, all laid out like this,’ Watson answered, ‘several of these items are rare ground spawns or even rarer drops. We’ll be lucky to get four arrows made in six weeks, simply due to that constraint. Then there’s the problem that some of the drops are in high-level zones. Then, too, we are going to need a Master Bowyer and advanced-level crafters in every trade. A month ago, it seemed simpler to level up three hundred players and kill Mikarkathat in a raid. After all, you did it with less than half that many. Now that’s not a realistic prospect in the time we have, it’s time to try the assassination option.’