The True Enemy Revealed

by Jason Cheek

  None of it was super complex. Once again, it was more a case of coming up with the concept in the first place that was the hardest part of the actual technological process. I also copied down some designs for armor piercing arrow heads for both bows and quarrels. Lastly, I added in some modern armor designs, discussing the whole principle of making generic sizes of small, medium, and large for each type of species we had. This was so that generic-sized armor could be made to fit the different body types with only a little modification.

  Next, I did research on the Tatara Furnaces used in the Heian period of pre-modern Japan. I guess I could have used the Damascus steel process, but I was a fan of Samurai swords. Besides, the steel created from the Tatara Furnaces was equal, in many cases, to the modern day steel produced in today’s day and age. Jotting down the entire process, I included all the information I could on the technique for adding the proper amount of carbon to the iron. Who knows, maybe the Dwarves and Gnomes of The World could use this same process for working with some of the fantasy metals that were in the game.

  Lastly, I talked about animal husbandry or more specifically, the Exotic Animal Handling skill and how I’d acquired it with Neysa. I explained that I wanted to see if some of the Battering Rams I’d seen on the peaks of the valley could be captured and trained as mounts. Hell, maybe the Warrior Badgers could be used. Whatever the creatures were, we needed to start figuring out the process now, or we were going to be hurting for mounts once we hit level 40 plus.

  By the time I finished the email, it was almost one o’clock in the morning. Checking everything over one last time, I addressed it to Orion and Kyarina and hit send. Unfortunately though, I wasn’t done quite yet. I had one more email to write. This one was a bit more complex as I sent an email out to the guild about Hefe’s fuck-up. I didn’t fluff it up or demonize him, but told it how it was. Honestly, I was a little too close to the situation and needed my friends’ help to figure out how best to deal with this whole thing.

  I stifled a yawn as I hit send. Cleaning up my mess, I headed to bed, while downing another glass of water. My body was dragging as I made sure my smart phone was far enough away from the bed, before crawling underneath my sheets. For once, there was nothing on my mind as I drifted off to sleep in seconds.

  ***

  Letting out a tired sigh, Rani Lamkin hit save to the document she’d been working on for the last several hours and sat back in her ergonomic chair to clear her head. In the report she recommended a number of Hot Fixes that could be applied to stop this issue from happening again in the immediate future. A much harder task then it sounded. Players would always come up with new ways to get around the systems that were in place to keep the game balanced and running properly.

  While that was true, Rani thought there was some permanent fixes the company could implement to keep the training areas operational for new players entering the game, besides cutting down on the worst abuses being carried out by some of the established players. At least, on a broad scope. Even if V-MMORG wanted to let the world evolve naturally by the players actions, having the training cities in place was essential for the continuation of the game.

  Lastly, Rani had fully documented the events that led up to the destruction of Telrain. In the report, she referred back to her previous warnings about the level 200 spell being in the hands of a player and how her reports had been dismissed as being impossible. Knowing the stink this was going to cause for upper management, she also linked each warning to the appropriate video documentation that backed up her findings during her investigation.

  While this was something she hated about working for a major corporation, it was the only way she was going to protect her job. Large corporations like this always wanted a scapegoat to take their ire out on and supervisors were always scrambling to cover their own asses when the shit hit the fan. Meaning, it was normal for lower level employees to be let go after being told there was no proof of their previous reports about a major situation.

  This was usually because the new employee in question either had deleted their own emails, thinking they were not needed, or they verbally reported the problem to their supervisor who then promptly denied any knowledge of the situation. That’s why she always kept all of her emails. Not only that, she also made sure that anything she verbally reported was followed up by an email to her supervisor, which she also saved to her own archives. This had always caused her some problems with her supervisors, but it was nothing that they could truly complain about. Also, as she got older, she learned how to better word these emails to get less pushback.

  The HR department could tell everyone they wanted until they were blue in their face that back-up emails weren’t needed in V-MMORG. Hell, most corporate HR departments said that same thing to their employees. But, Rani knew the real score on that. Whenever something went down, the first thing that upper management requested was supporting documentation on the incident. Either you had it or you didn’t. She was never going to be caught unprepared like she’d been on her first job with a major software developer.

  Needless to say, this had taken a lot longer then she’d initially expected it to. Logging out of her system, she shouldered her purse and grabbed her dress jacket. Folding it over her forearm, she took a final look around the office. It was amazing. Even at ten o’clock at night, the office was full of V-MMORG employees going about their work. It was truly a round the clock operation. Taking another deep breath, she headed for her supervisor’s closed door at the end of the rows of cubicles. Tapping lightly on the door, she heard a harried grunt to enter.

  As soon as Rani opened the door, she saw her nervous supervisor, Doug Rudd, sweating over a conference call. His tie had been loosened up around his neck and the sleeves of his dress shirt had been rolled up. Even so, he was sweating like a pig at a meat market. He wasn’t exactly a bad guy. Normally, he was quite good at taking feedback and direction from his employees. He only became difficult when something came up that didn’t fit his mental picture of what he understood about the game. For example, when a level 200 Meteor Strike scroll showed up out of nowhere inside the first training zone.

  A look of relief washed over Doug’s face as he hurriedly waved Rani over to the table he was using for the video conference. Sitting down next to her supervisor, Rani was shocked to see the other faces on the conference call. Alon Müsk, the owner of V-MMORG, was the only other face she recognized besides Justin Mayfair, the AI prodigy that everyone laughed at. Unbelievably enough, they were already halfway through her report.

  In stunned amazement, Rani answered the questions being shot off at her like a machine gun from the upper management on the other side of the video conference call. To her surprise, Doug also had a copy of her report on his digital pad and was going through the information as quickly as possible. Instead of being angry that she reported his lack of response to her initial warning, he took full responsibility for not responding to the information sooner. Even more shocking, none of the management team was looking for a scapegoat. All that they seemed to be concerned with was getting to the root of the issue.

  By the time the meeting was over, they’d accepted her suggestions for Hot Fixes with a little tweaking of their own. They’d also added a few Hot Fixes that she hadn’t thought of. All of which she actually agreed with. Amazingly enough, it showed a deeper level of understanding to the game than even she had. On top of that, she’d also been given a commendation and a bonus for such good work. Doug had walked her to the door telling her to enjoy the day off and to be ready to report back to work on Thursday at her usual time.

  Standing outside her supervisor’s closed door in a daze, Rani tried to wrap her head around everything that had just happened. Where was the corporate backstabbing she was so used to? Where was the sacrificial scapegoat that should have taken the fall for the screw up? Where was the clueless upper management team that had no idea of how their game actually worked? Hell, how had she gotten the recognition for her hard wo
rk and a bonus to boot on top of that? Didn’t these people understand how a normal fortunate five hundred corporation worked?

  ***

  “Come on, Mug! I saw it go under the fence!” Zinn urgently called out, sliding to her knees. Sticking her butt up into the air, she peaked through the foot wide hole in the wooden fence to see the tip of the gray furry tail as it disappeared into the barn. Mugorlorth came sliding to a stop behind her, almost tripping over the sexy Gnomeling as Zinn let out an excited shriek. “It went into the barn! That has to be its nest!”

  “Zinn, the Kopy-Katze is level 25!” Mugorlorth worriedly hissed, trying to keep his voice pitched low as he guardedly looked around the pen on the other side of the fence. Glancing down at the Gnomeling by his feet, Mugorlorth’s breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of Zinn’s creamy thighs and leather undergarments. Her leather baby doll had ridden up over her hips as she got down on her belly and tried to squirm her way through the hole she’d just been looking through. Grabbing the little Gnomeling by the ankles of her leather boots, he held her in place. “Hold up Zinn. We need to wait for Tavon and Alanah before heading in!”

  “Let go of me, Mug!” Zinn complained, as she kicked her legs trying to break free from his grip. “It’ll get away if we wait too long!”

  Mugorlorth did his best to hold onto the slippery Gnomeling, while trying not to stare at her muscular thighs flexing as she writhed in his grip like an eel. Even though she was beautiful, he had to repeatedly remind himself that this was a completely different culture and that just taking a woman for his own pleasure wasn’t allowed in the House of Kayden. He’d promised Helgath he wouldn’t make a mistake or bring his War Leader dishonor for his own failings, but at times like this, it was a hard promise to remember.

  Zinn made such confusing thoughts even harder, because she never treated him like the scarred wreck that he was or hated him for being a Half-Orc. The Gnomelings on the Wind Dancer had treated him well enough, but the reactions from the townsfolk of Darom seemed to be mixed. No one had outright attacked him, but the disgust on their faces whenever he was around was clear enough to see. It was a look he was used to even with the Orc tribe that had previously owned him.

  The sounds of hooves on cobblestones cleared his thoughts as Tavon came racing down the alley. Seeing Mug’s distressed look as he held the struggling Zinn, the young centaur came to an abrupt stop next to them. Within moments, his deft fingers were quickly prying the wooden slats off the fence as Alanah slid off his back to help.

  “You’re not going in there alone, Zinn, and that’s final!” The young Half-Elf said, as she hooked her hands underneath the older girl’s underarms and lifted her up to her feet. “Now, let Tavon make an opening so we can all go in.”

  “Alanah!” Zinn whined, as she let the other girl pull her away from the fence. “This is the closest we’ve gotten yet to finding their den!”

  “And another few minutes won’t make a difference.” Alanah said unperturbed. “Two level 25 monsters will take everything we have to take on,” the Half-Elf chided. “If I didn’t think we could handle that, I’d be sending Tavon for Ianfalcon instead.”

  “We don’t need anyone else’s help,” Zinn unhappily grumbled, but backed up to let Mug give Tavon a hand. “If you knew how awesome Kopy-Katze were, you’d be willing to take any risks to catch them too.”

  “It’s okay, Zinn.” Alanah said, hiding the smile that came to her lips. She’d learned over the last few days that the little Gnomeling could get excitable at times. “If the Kopy-Katze’s den is inside, we’ll get them.”

  “Thanks for the save,” Mugorlorth whispered under his breath to Tavon as they worked to widen the hole.

  “I thought it looked like you were a little unsure of what to do.” Tavon shot back, giving him a knowing wink.

  “Not knowing what to do isn’t the problem,” Mugorlorth shot back, showing his tusks to the centaur in an Orc-style grin that made the other male blush.

  They got the work done in no time at all. As soon as the hole was wide enough, Tavon crouched under the top bar and climbed through, unlimbering the Mace of Ilyrall from his back. Mugorlorth climbed through behind him and drew his sword and shield, fidgeting somewhat at the weight of the unfamiliar weapons. In the past, he’d always used a two-handed mace or club whenever he’d fought. Both were considered slave weapons to the Orc tribe he’d been born into. Now though, his War Leader had commanded him to keep Zinn, Tavon, and Alanah safe. To do that, he needed a new set of skills.

  Mugorlorth heard Zinn start humming a low tune as she let her Djembe hand drum hang from her neck. The sound made Mugorlorth feel stronger and healthier as he readied his weapons and scanned the fenced in area around the barn. The magic of her class made the sound disappear just a few feet out to anyone not in their group, but allowed her to cast spells easily enough. As soon as Alanah climbed through behind them, Tavon started forward being careful to keep his hooves silent as Mugorlorth took the lead.

  The rear barn door was opened just wide enough for them to all creep through the opening without making a sound. This was the storage area where the stablehands stocked the supplies. Unfortunately, as soon as they entered the long room, they saw the glow of torch lights and heard the sounds of arguing voices coming from the doorway to the main stable.

  Trading a confused look with Tavon, Mugorlorth looked to Zinn and Alanah for direction on how to proceed. Alanah’s eyes were big as saucers while Zinn’s were narrowed in consternation. Catching his eye, she nodded for him to proceed, while holding a finger to her lips. Nodding in understanding, Mugorlorth began creeping towards the doorway with his friends at his back as he listened to the conversation.

  “After we take out the guards at the entrance, Rasmussen and Tigner’s teams will secure the gates while the rest of us take out the guards at the top of the stairwell to the dungeon.” A harsh voice said as they neared the doorway.

  “This is bullshit, Arthur!” A whiny voice complained from further inside the room. “I’m four levels higher than you. Apoxsee should have made me the leader of this raid.”

  “If you hadn’t taken a noob start, then maybe our roles would’ve been different, Rasmussen.” The harsh voice, Mugorlorth mentally identified as Arthur, snarled at the whiner. “But you didn’t, so shut your fat mouth and follow orders!”

  “Noob start!” Rasmussen shrieked in outrage. “I’ll show you who the noob is, dickwad!”

  There was the distinctive sounds of a scuffle and lots of voices yelling as Mugorlorth carefully peaked around the doorway. Inside, there were at least twenty-five members of the Dread Pack guild standing around in a circle inside. At the center were two newfar fighting. One of which wore chainmail and another that wore brown leathers.

  Within seconds, the larger chainmail fighter was on his back crying out in pain as the small leather wearing man pounced on his chest and began beating him with his fists. The disagreement ended a few seconds later with the smaller man spitting in the larger man’s face. As the smaller man stood up, Mugorlorth saw the man’s information, Arthur Marcelino, Dread Pack, level 22 Rogue.

  “Does anyone else want to challenge Apoxsee’s choice in selecting me as the raid leader?” Arthur demanded, turning around to face the rest of the newfar as Mugorlorth ducked his head back into the room.

  “We get it, Arthur. You’re the raid leader” Another voice grudgingly said. “But, that doesn’t explain how we’re going to take out the force of guards at the gate.”

  “How hard can it be, Tigner?” Arthur asked the other newfar directly. Seeing the worried look in the other man’s eyes, he slowly turned around to take in the entire room, before continuing angrily. “Look, the players who did this to our people left two days ago! All that we face now are a bunch of dumb NPCs!”

  “Besides, the rest of the guild is going to storm the gate. All that we have to do is attack them from behind in the confusion.” He said, while striding confidently around the room. �
��Look, you still have your Flame Shield and Fire Strike. All that we have to do is get the gates open and it’ll be game over for these digital assholes.”

  “Or,” Arthur began, realizing that not everyone was convinced. “You can go on the Chaos Storm alliance’s permanent kill list. The choice is yours.”

  “Now, once we get our people out of the dungeon-“ Arthur began to say as Rasmussen Jestes climbed to his feet, glaring at him. Wiping the blood from his lips, the warrior leaned back against a support pole only to have the thing give away. A loud snap echoed through the empty stable as Rasmussen landed heavily onto an old pile of horse dung. Before anyone could laugh at his misfortune, the portion of the roof directly above him collapsed in a roar of noise.

  The entire Brat Pack peaked around the edge of the doorway with wide eyes. Curses and coughing came from the Dread Pack members as the dust slowly cleared. Their eyes widened in shock to see the dust and debris covered players trying to wipe their armor clean in disgust. A few of the newfar were covered in manure from where they dived for cover from the falling roof, while others had taken some serious damage from the collapse.

  Surprisingly enough, Rasmussen was the first to recover. While his armor had helped him mostly escape the collapse unscathed, he was covered in shit from being pushed down into the pile of manure. He was wiping the largest clumps off his armor with handfuls of hay, when a pitiful mewling sound caught his attention. Shoving several of the larger pieces of rotten wood away, he called out to his guildmates.

  “Look at this shit will yeah?” Rasmussen said excitedly. “There was a den of baby monsters up in the rafters.” With a sick smile, he picked up his iron-tipped boot and stomped down on one of the level 0 creatures. The incoherent death shriek sounded like a wounded bunny rabbit crying out in agony as the soft body crunched under his heavy boot.