by Ramy Vance
“Psh, dude, I know dragons fuck. Ashegoreth looks like she hella fucks.”
Diana handed Stew and Sandy a cup of coffee without bothering to meet either of their eyes. She yawned loudly and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before conjuring a pair of glasses onto her face. “I noticed you two made good use of that Lightfoot spell I showed you,” Diana chided.
Stew’s face turned as red as a tomato, and he awkwardly looked around as he fumbled with his words. Finally, after listening to everyone laugh, Sandy stepped in and saved him. “Yes, and thank you for helping us be polite with our neighbors.” She giggled. “Suzuki probably really appreciated it.”
A pot of porridge was boiling over the fire as some bacon sizzled. Suzuki took a bowl, ladled some porridge into it, and covered it with a couple of bacon slices. “Honestly, I didn’t think that listening to you two assholes fucking would be the single worst part of going on death-defying quests.” He laughed.
José was the last person to join the breakfast bonfire. His eyes were bright and awake, and he carried a small bowl of water and soap. He washed his face by the fire, and delicately trimmed his beard.
“We ready to get moving anytime soon?” he asked.
There were no disagreements. It took about ten minutes to break down the camp. Then they were off down the tunnels where light faded away. As often happened during long periods of walking, Suzuki lost himself in the dark. One foot in front of the other.
Over.
And.
Over.
It was almost meditative. He found himself drifting through memory after memory, running through his life, his decisions, letting his thoughts bounce around until they congealed into some half-formed image that he could not quite wrap his head around. He was surprised when he found that he was exiting the tunnels and staring at a relaxed, afternoon sun.
The tunnels had exited out of the side of the mountain. Beneath were hills that descended into what looked to be an open valley. In the distance, far in the distance, Suzuki could see a large tower piercing the sky. It was obscured by black clouds that were crackling with red lightning.
The black clouds hung over most of the valley, and Suzuki could see the concentric circles that made up the divisions of the Dark One’s camps. It reminded Suzuki of Dante’s Inferno and the rings of hell with each ring composing a different punishment.
José looked off the edge of the mountain, staring down into the Dark One’s forces. “Now that is a fuck ton of orcs.” He sighed as he scratched his head. “Can’t say that I was expecting to see that many.”
Suzuki joined the line of MERCs staring over the side of the mountain. “How many were you expecting?” Suzuki asked. “We’re literally breaking into the Dark One’s domain.”
“I didn’t think that his domain was going to be in Jersey.”
“What? We’re not in Jersey.”
“Technically, we aren’t in Jersey. But, kinda. You know, all the realms are interlaced over each other. This is the part of Earth that Jersey is in. It figures the Dark One would be operating out of this shithole. Nothing good has ever come from New Jersey.”
Diana shrugged and squatted down as she peered out at the unspeakable volume of the Dark One’s forces. “Not true,” Diana countered. “The Jersey Devil came from Jersey. And I’m pretty sure Chip did as well.”
Suzuki looked at Chip, who was staring out at nothing as if she wasn’t interested in conversation or recon. “Not a stellar talking piece but, yeah, born and raised,” Chip admitted.
José stumbled over the next thing he said.
“Regardless who or what is from New Jersey, we gotta figure out what we’re up against,” he said. “I mean, I can see the defense rings, but I have no idea what’s in them. We’re too far out to possibly get a read on what we’re up against. They could be completely empty. Or they could be teeming with every fucking beast that the Dark One’s been able to wrangle.”
A light went off in Suzuki’s head. “Hey, I think I got something,” he exclaimed. “I have a friend who gave me a hack for the military satellites. We were thinking about using it to exploit a hole in the system so that we could sneak around the HUD babysitting protocols keeping us out of over-leveled areas. We could use it to see what the satellite feed looks like.”
Chip walked up behind Suzuki and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Glad to be around someone who doesn’t take a royal shit on using technology to get a job done,” she said. “How ‘bout you go on and pull the feed up?”
Suzuki accessed the hacking program that Real_Deal had sent him a few weeks ago.
When Beth had disappeared, Suzuki had run through dozens of different plans to find a way to get her back. One of the plans had included reaching out to his old friend Real_Deal, a gamer who had initially informed him of the rumors concerning the MERCs existence and their desire to pick up qualified recruits who didn’t make the military’s cut.
Originally, the program had been designed to help the Mundanes work around the level cap that the MERC HUDs had in place to keep new recruits from wandering into areas that could get them killed. The HUDs would instantly transport new recruits out of areas where they were grossly under-leveled. As it turned out, the hack didn’t work nearly as well as Real_Deal implied. This was a common issue with his intelligence. He usually got the general idea, but the finer points tended to fall by the wayside.
Thus, the hack was useless for sneaking into enemy territories but had been instrumental in pinpointing Beth’s whereabouts.
Suzuki’s HUD displayed the satellite network floating above. He selected one of the satellites and attempted to patch into its video surveillance.
The video was garbled and nonsensical, images that shifted in and out of focus as static cut through them.
“I can’t make anything out,” Suzuki complained. “It’s…there are no clear images. I can’t tell which satellites are which.”
Chip reached out to take Suzuki’s HUD. “You don’t mind if a take a looky-loo, do ya?” she asked.
Suzuki removed his HUD and handed it to Chip. “Nah, go for it,” he said.
Chip put on Suzuki’s HUD and thumbed through a few menus. She waved her hand, and a floating, holographic keyboard phased into existence in front of her. As she typed, her face went sour into a frown. She took off Suzuki’s HUD and handed it back to him.
“Something’s blocking the feed,” she explained. “And it’s not magic.”
José checked over the edge of the hill again. He looked worried, his stern face betraying the slightest hint of emotion, the first tiny crack in a stone sculpture. “What about that spell you used before, Suzuki…the one you got upgraded?” José asked.
“It’s too big of a space to look through. I could pick a spot, but I’d only be able to see a few feet ahead. And I wouldn’t know where to start with this huge ass place.”
“True, true. What would I do in this kind of situation?”
“Uh…I don’t know. Pray about it?”
“That’s the last thing that I would do, kid. Ideas, anyone? I don’t like the idea of walking blindly into this situation.”
Stew joined the growing queue of MERCs looking over the side of the hill. “I don’t know,” he thought aloud. “We still got a lot of area to cover before we even get close to the first ring. Maybe we should wait until we’re in a better vantage point to assess the situation.”
Everyone turned to face Stew, each MERC wearing a similar look of surprise.
Suzuki had to admit to himself that he was a little impressed with Stew’s sudden foray into rationality. “Are you saying that you don’t want to run in, headfirst, and risk getting yourself and your teammates killed?” Suzuki asked.
Sandy eyed Stew suspiciously as she walked around him and prodded his chest with her finger. “Where is my boyfriend, and what have you done to him?”
Stew shrugged and walked away from the edge. He puffed his chest out a little as he straightened his shoulders.
> “Nowhere,” he said. “I still want to show those asshats what the Jenkins is but, like José’s been telling me, we gotta find the best vantage point to unload a bunch of whup-ass on these fools.”
“It’s so sexy when you use your head, preferably to crush someone’s skull, but this whole thinking thing is pretty cute too.”
“Babe, I’m always thinking. My brain is my most important muscle.”
Suzuki broke in, “Actually, the brain isn’t a muscle. It’s an organ and only has a faint amount of muscle tissue to support—”
“Dude, I was just saying a thing. You know, like an idiot.”
“You mean idiom.”
“Could you just cut the nerd shit for a bit? Let’s find a better place to scope out what we’re up against.”
Evening was fast approaching, and the MERCs were making their way down the edge of the mountain as it sloped into the green hills. José and Suzuki led the way, followed by Sandy and Stew, and the veteran MERCs watched the rear. The hills were covered in dense trees, and it was difficult to make out anything more than a few feet ahead. Needless to say, it was taking some time for the MERCs to orient themselves.
Suzuki had never been one for tracking, but José seemed to think that he was a natural. There were only a few times that José redirected Suzuki’s path. For the most part, he let Suzuki figure out which way they were going to be heading. It was still a little weird to Suzuki that José wasn’t taking more of a hands-on approach to the whole quest. They were about to descend right into the heart of the Dark One’s camp. Or maybe this was one of many camps. If the Dark One was actually busy trying to conquer all of the different realms, it didn’t make sense that he’d be holed up in Middang3ard.
Maybe the whole quest wasn’t nearly as dangerous as Suzuki had thought. José definitely wasn’t acting like he was on a suicide mission.
After an hour of walking, the MERCs descended into a valley. The trees grew thicker, and the little bit of sunlight faded as the valley collapsed into darkness. Diana and Sandy moved to the outer part of the MERC formation, each of them casting an illumination spell. Four small blue orbs floated above the MERCs, casting enough light to see, but not nearly enough to draw attention.
José held up his hand and stopped the formation as he put his finger over his mouth and pointed ahead.
Suzuki strained his ears. He could hear something rustling up ahead and nothing else. He moved closer to the trees and looked through the branches and leaves.
A group of orcs was sitting around a fire, cooking a meal. They were chatting with each other in low voices. A troll sat near them, its head bent down low, drool dripping from its slack jaw. It was nearly seven feet, extremely muscular, gray, and beset with a look of confusion resting heavy on its brow.
José held up seven fingers and showed them to everyone and then pointed to his right and motioned that they should follow him. Sandy raised her hand, attaching the red amulet to her chest.
Her skin turned to ash and cloaked her as her face went chalky, and the mask of Elroz covered her face. She then raised her wand and a silver light slipped from its tip and formed a bubble around the MERCs, its side dripping as it conflated into itself and soaked into their feet.
Then she touched the wand to each of their lips and then her own.
When Sandy spoke, it was as clear as if she had been raising her voice, but still, it sounded muffled somehow. “This way we can still talk,” she whispered. “And our movements will be quieter.”
Diana flashed Sandy a thumbs-up and a proud smile as José motioned for the MERCs to follow him. They made their way through a thicket of bushes and José held his hand up again to signal for the MERCs to stop.
Past the bushes, there was another camp. This one was filled with eight goblins and three sleeping wargs. The goblins bickered with each other as they roasted meat on sticks.
The wargs snored comfortably, one of them stirring as a goblin dropped a piece of meat. The warg leapt forward and snapped up the meat before the goblin could do anything.
Once he was satisfied, José led the MERCs back to the original clearing they had been watching the orcs from and shook his head as he paced.
Suzuki didn’t understand why José seemed so perturbed by the orcs and goblins. The camps were far enough away that they could probably manage to sneak in between the two. And if it came down to a fight, Suzuki knew that everyone was capable of handling a few orcs and goblins.
“What’s got you all bothered?” Suzuki asked. “They’re just orcs. We’ve killed scores of them.”
José looked back at the campfire burning a little way away. “That’s not the cut of orc you’ve seen before,” he explained. “You know about the whole level system, don’t you? For MERCs or the military, levels are basically just a fancy way to talk about how much damage your gear can put up with. Orcs and goblins, though, that’s an entirely different story. Their tribes are split up by strength, and some tribes are stronger than others. It’s not exactly a direct correlation, but it’s close enough. You guys have been fighting mostly rookies with occasionally something a little tough, and you all saw that war chief riding after us. But that’s nothing compared to these guys. We’re outnumbered. And these guys are probably just the tip of the iceberg. I’m guessing these shit heads aren’t even a part of the first ring. They’re sentries. If we slip up here, we’re fucking dead. So what are we gonna do, Suzy?”
“What? I’m planning this one?” Suzuki asked.
“You’re our tactician. Of course, you’re planning it. Try not to get anyone killed.”
Where to start? Suzuki felt the pressure. Oddly enough, he knew that it wasn’t coming from anyone other than him. José had never put Suzuki in a situation that he hadn’t been prepared for and the Mundanes trusted him with their life. He still felt the pressure, though. It was a block in his mind, weighing down his thoughts. What if it really was as dire as causing the death of all of his friends?
Suzuki knelt down and ran his fingers through the dirt. José crouched beside him and rested his hand on Suzuki’s shoulder. “This is what separates real leaders from the assholes who just want to be the shit,” José whispered. “Those assholes, they don’t give a shit about anyone. They just want the credit and the parade. You see ‘em in the military. You see ‘em in the MERCs. Not as much, but you still do. It’s a fucking shame, but it is what it is. They’re not real leaders. A real leader knows what’s being sacrificed and what’s at risk. They know that if anything happens to one of their own, it’s on them and no one else. That’s what it takes to be a leader. You think you got that?”
Suzuki didn’t need to be asked twice. He knew what he had to do. The whole reason they were all out tramping through the Dark One’s miniature version of hell was that Suzuki was very aware of the risk to any of his friends. He knew that Beth could end up dead. If it had been either Sandy or Stew, he would have mounted a rescue party just as quickly.
“Can you do this?” José asked again.
Suzuki drew two circles in the sand. Then he stood up, looked around at the other MERCs, and nodded. “Of course,” he said. “We don’t want to alert anyone that we’re here. I don’t know how many sentries are posted, and I don’t know how far we are from the first ring of camps. So we’re going to take it slow. Nothing noisy. Take advantage of Sandy and Diana’s ability to keep us quiet.”
Sandy stepped forward to catch Suzuki’s attention. “It won’t do anything to silence them, though,” she countered. “If a fight breaks out, it doesn’t matter how quiet we’re going to be.”
“Which is why we aren’t going to fight. Chip, how are you at sneaking?”
Chip cracked her knuckles as she pulled down her goggles. “Been a while since I been asked that,” she said. As Chip spoke, she shimmered in and out of sight until her body was invisible. “Some things magic tends to have a blind eye about. Refracting light? Best leave that to the gears and whistles.”
“Perfect. Here’s the p
lan. We do this, and we should be golden.”
Chapter Seven
The MERCs waited until the moon hung pregnant and swollen in the night sky over the orc and goblin camps. The wind blew through the crowded trees and branches, creating almost the sound of windchimes.
It would have been beautiful if not for the loud shouts and cheers of the orcs as they downed ale after ale. They sang songs of their kind, songs which made no sense to any of the MERCs, but sounded as if they were dripping with a pathos that Suzuki had not known orcs to be capable of.
It didn’t matter, though. They were the enemy.
If Suzuki had wandered into the camp unarmed, the orcs would have cut him down within seconds. That was the thing to remember.
At first, the MERCs were going to wait until the orcs drank themselves to sleep. That wasn’t happening, so Suzuki rolled with the punches. They split into two different parties, no longer the Mundanes or the Horsemen. Suzuki went with Chip and Diana. José separated with Stew and Sandy.
Suzuki’s party crept toward the goblin camp on the eastern side of the clearing. Diana and Suzuki crawled across the grass as Chip used her grappling hook to swing herself to the treetops. What they were attempting was going to require a nearly perfectly synchronized attack. If any of the goblins fell separately, they could alert whatever else was in the forest.
From the high vantage point, Chip looked down at the goblins while Suzuki and Diana moved closer to the camp.
The goblins spoke softly, passing their drinks back and forth. They seemed much more excitable than the orcs had. Whatever they were speaking of must have been interesting. Even though Suzuki didn’t understand their language, he could tell that they were speaking rapidly with each other.
Suddenly, one of the goblins stood up and drew his sword.
Suzuki took a huge breath and held it in. At his side, Diana tensed as well. He hoped that Chip was just as conscious of what was going on in the camp.
The goblin which had drawn its sword spit on the ground and another goblin jumped from its seat, smashing its ale gourd to the ground before whipping out its thin sword. The two goblins circled each other while the rest jumped to their feet and started chanting. When they attacked, it was with the quick viciousness that Suzuki had assumed was reserved for enemies.
