Alexander offered, “I can have Silverbeard send some people. We’d be happy to help.”
The captain considered it for a moment. “We’d appreciate it. But wait and see what the situation is in Broken Mountain, Damerion, and Antalia. They may have a need for more than just cleanup.”
Alexander didn’t want to ask, but he had to. “Your losses?”
The captain put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. He didn’t lift his head when he spoke. “I lost nearly a third of my guards. And another thirty or so citizens perished, either up on the walls with us or from attacks that flew over the walls into the city. We had a couple of fires. But overall, the city fares well. The adventurers saved us, without question. They dove into battle, giving their lives again and again to protect us. It was… remarkable.”
Alexander was at a loss for words. More than a hundred citizens lost in the defense of Stormforge. He wondered if any of those killed were people that he knew. But he didn’t have the heart to ask. As he sat there, trying to find some words that might express his sorrow, the captain spoke again.
“We appreciate your coming here to check on us. I know the king would have liked to see you. But I just convinced him to go and rest. He was on the wall with us, never stopped fighting until it was done. Then he helped with the wounded. I’ll let him know you were here. But you should go check on the others now.”
Alexander nodded and shook the captain’s hand. “I’ll send some people. You look like you could use some rest yourself. Go sleep. Your city is safe for now.”
Alexander and Jules returned to Greystone Manor and he activated the portal to Broken Mountain. The moment he stepped through, he was surrounded by shields and bristling weaponry. It took several seconds for the guards to recognize him and relax. He asked about the battle.
“Aye, them nasty drow and their beasties came at us!” An elder guard captain informed them. “They dinna’ try to break through our gates. Instead, they came up from the depths below the city. But me king expected exactly that and we were ready. The lower tunnels be runnin’ with darkling blood!”
“And your people?” Jules asked.
The dwarf lowered his gaze. “We sent ten o’ our own ta Durin this mornin’. Could ha’ been much worse. But thanks to ye and yer dragon forges, our weapons cut them down like paper dolls.” He grinned as he held up a battle axe that glowed slightly with enchantment.
“I’m glad to hear it. The losses in Stormforge were much greater. Please pass on to King Thalgrin that Charles and his people could use any aid you can provide. And give him my regards. I must go and check on the others.”
The old dwarf nodded, placing hand to chest. “Aye, we’ll do all we can. That’s what friends be for. I know me king will be sorry ta miss ye.”
Alexander tried to open the portal to Antalia, but it wouldn’t work. “It seems the fighting continues in Antalia,” he said aloud for everyone’s benefit. The dwarf captain sent a runner to update Thalgrin and the elders.
Next, Alexander tried Damerion. The portal opened and he nodded to the dwarves as he stepped through.
He and Jules found themselves in the palace courtyard, surrounded by guards. They instantly came to attention and saluted as they recognized their visitors. A lieutenant stepped forward and bowed. “King Alexander. Lady Jules. I’d be happy to escort you to King Arand.”
With a nod from Alexander, the young soldier spun on a heel and led them inside. Arand was in the throne room with his queen and his two remaining sons. He rose and clasped hands with Alexander.
“I’m happy to see you and your family are well, Majesty,” Alexander offered.
“We’re all still alive, though I don’t know about well. It was a hard battle. The adventurers fought bravely and with abandon. And thanks to you, we were well prepared for the attack. Still, we lost four dozen of our guards and twenty civilians. And four of our mages were lost to some kind of combined spell the drow attacked with.”
Alexander was growing numb to the numbers of lost citizens in these reports. Which bothered him a little bit. He had to remind himself once again that these were simply NPCs.
“I’m sorry for your losses, Majesty.” He took a few minutes to fill the royal family in on the situations in the other kingdoms, finishing with, “And it seems Antalia is still fighting.”
King Arand shook his head sadly. “That does not bode well. Could the city have been overrun?”
Alexander thought of Queen Margaret and Princess Kimberly dead in their throne room. “I don’t believe so. I think they still fight.” When he took a moment to think about it, he smacked himself in the forehead. “In fact, I know they still fight. Otherwise my guildmates in Antalia would have been killed and returned to their bodies at my keep.”
He excused himself for a moment and opened guild chat. “Michael? Tiny Sam? You guys alright?”
Michael’s voice came back almost instantly, the sound of battle in the background. “Still alive, but barely!”
“Is the city still secure?”
“Yes, for now. We’re holding well enough. But in the beginning, it was close. Several adventurers elected to take the side of the wizards and murdered some of our people in an attempt to open the gate. We almost weren’t able to stop them. Our guildmates who are too low-level to fight on the walls have been gathered at the cemetery to make sure those players don’t get another chance to do harm.”
Alexander nodded to himself. Those players would be spawn-camped back down to level one. And they deserved no less. The consequences of one’s choices.
“We can’t send aid until the battle is over, Michael. But as soon as it is, let me know and we’ll get people there to help.”
Michael didn’t answer and Alexander assumed he was busy fighting. He took a minute to update the royal family with the new information. As he rose to take his leave, he said “Elysia and Broken Mountain can offer assistance if it’s needed.”
Apollos shook his head. “It sounds like Antalia will have a greater need. We’ll manage well enough. Send your people there when you can.” The king nodded in agreement.
They said their goodbyes and Alexander took Jules back through the portal to Elysia. He called together the players who were online, as well as Silverbeard and Lola. After updating them all, a party of thirty players and citizens went through the portal to Stormforge. They were to report to Lydia for instructions on how best to assist.
Fitz appeared in the courtyard not long after. Del and the female scout dragon whose name Alexander couldn’t remember appeared with him. The old wizard was smiling.
Jules asked, “What kind of shenanigans have you three been up to that makes you smile like that?”
Fitz produced one of the drow’s portal orbs. “We’ve been having a bit of fun.”
Del explained as Fitz waggled his eyebrows. “We took the orbs up onto the mountain, where we had some room. Taking our natural forms, we used each of the orbs to open a portal. The moment it was open, we all three breathed dragonfire through the portal before closing it.”
Fitz added, “I tossed the head of the dead wizard through the last one afterward.” Rufus nodded and laughed, holding his belly with both tiny paws as he leaned against the peak of the wizard’s hat.
Alexander grinned at the squirrel that had so recently taken down a troll. “Good! Maybe that will make it easier for the adventurers who will be attacking the strongholds.” He quickly updated them on the various other cities. Fitz frowned when he heard the news of Antalia.
He looked at Del, who nodded. Then he turned to Alexander. “You adventurers may not be able to assist. But this is a dragon war. Odin would not prevent us from killing the dark forces wherever and whenever we find them!” A second later, all three were gone. Alexander was glad. He hoped Fitz was right that Odin wouldn’t interfere.
*****
Matt pushed the old truck to its limit as he sped up the nearly-deserted back road that would take him up Olympus Mo
untain. His thoughts raced as he became more and more sure that his time was running out. He pictured Heather whispering in Jake’s ear and the cop racing out of the building just seconds behind him as he left the parking lot. He watched the skies constantly for helicopters and even pulled off the road into the trees a couple of times when he thought he heard one. Sure that his people had been captured and questioned, he assumed they had a description of the truck. He warred with himself over whether to try to steal another vehicle or just keep the truck and move as fast as possible.
In the end, he decided that since he had no idea how to hotwire a car, and thus would have to either carjack somebody or get extremely lucky and find a car with keys in it, he would stick with the truck.
All of this spun through his mind as he blasted through an intersection of two county roads. He never saw the stop sign, nor the deputy sheriff’s car parked in the bushes nearby. Twenty seconds later, lights and sirens blazing, the deputy’s vehicle came rushing up behind him on the road.
Matt panicked. His initial response was to punch the accelerator. But the old truck was already giving all it had, and there was no way he was going to outrun the cop. So he pulled over and did his best to look innocent.
He watched the deputy approach in his driver’s side mirror, his heart thudding in his chest. With his right hand, he removed his revolver from the bag on the passenger seat and tucked it under his leg, where the deputy wouldn’t be able to spot it.
He heard the tap on the glass followed by, “License and registration, please.”
Matt couldn’t produce either. He rolled down the window using the old-style manual crank. No power locks or windows in this classic. The deputy placed a wary hand on his weapon.
“I’m… I’m sorry, officer, I’m afraid I don’t have them on me. I just popped out for a quick cigarette run and didn’t grab my wallet.”
“Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?”
“Was I speeding? I’m sorry. It’s late and I’m in a hurry to get home. There’s never anybody on this road this time of night…”
“Yes, you were speeding. But you also blasted through a four-way stop back there. Interrupted my breakfast.” The deputy gave him a stern look. A moment later, a lightbulb seemed to go off, and the look on his face turned to one of surprise.
“You. You’re… the guy. The one everyone’s looking for.” He reached again for his weapon, but was too slow. Matt already had his weapon in hand. Raising it up, he pointed it out the window and pulled the trigger twice. The deputy was knocked back and fell to the ground in the middle of the road.
Matt was about to drive away when a thought struck him. The deputy probably called in the plate number before getting out of his vehicle. The authorities would quickly realize the deputy was dead when he didn’t report back in or answer his radio. So the truck would be a big fat target.
And he still needed to get into Olympus. He looked in his rearview at the deputy’s car with its lights still twirling. “If I put on his uniform and take his car, it might get me past the roadblock at Olympus.”
Decision made, he moved fast. He opened the truck’s door and leaped out. Bending down, he reached for the deputy’s jacket and began to try to pull it off. He felt a little squeamish about wearing a dead man’s clothes, and would have to figure out how to hide the blood stains…
He froze. “Where are the blood stains?”
Just as he started to wonder about this, the deputy rolled over with a grunt. Gun still in hand, he pointed it at Matt.
Matt saw the impossibly large barrel of the deputy’s weapon pointed right at his face. He heard the gun fire the bullet that slammed into his neck, severing an artery and smashing vertebrae on its way out. Pain seared through him as he coughed up blood. His body went limp, falling to the ground and causing his head to bounce off the pavement. He lay there in disbelief, choking on his own blood as the light faded.
The deputy reached for the radio hooked to his shoulder as he dropped his weapon and felt around frantically with that hand, searching his torso. “Officer needs assistance. Suspect shot me! I… I think the vest caught both rounds. Shit, this hurts!” His fingers found first one, then another slug embedded in his vest. He looked at his hand and saw no blood. With a sigh of relief, he added, “It was the guy. The terrorist one the FBI’s hunting. I got him. Shot that fucker in the face.” He scooted himself off the road, leaned back against a tire, and listened as dispatch sent backup and an ambulance to his location.
*****
Alexander and Jules were sitting down to a late breakfast as Lugs woke up. His movement woke Fibble and Bacon as well. Beatrix was already up and sitting at a table, drinking coffee and holding her head.
Lugs, carrying a still-sleepy Fibble in his palm, ambled unsteadily over to take a seat with Alexander and Jules. He set the little goblin on the table and reached for the nearest pitcher. Not even checking to see what it held, he gulped down the contents.
“Ahhhh! Good party last night,” he mumbled. Fibble tried to nod his head, then groaned and changed his mind. Jules took pity on them and got up to fetch them some food.
A short while later, as Fibble was ‘stealing’ several strips of bacon and putting them in his bag, Brick and Grumpy came walking over. Grumpy carried an object covered in cloth. When Alexander saw the familiar shape, he grinned. Brick had completed the surprise project for Fibble.
He nodded to the dwarf, who addressed their goblin minister. “Fibble. We talked it over, and decided ye needed a mount o’ yer own. Besides Lugs here, we mean.” He stuck a thumb at Lugs, who smiled in between shoving mouthfuls of eggs into his maw.
Fibble’s eyes grew wide and he stood up on the table, bringing him nearly eye to eye with Brick. “You mean… like Tigger?”
Brick laughed and shook his head. “Not quite. This one you don’t ever have to feed.”
He turned to Grumpy and nodded. The dwarf grabbed hold of the cloth and whisked it off the item underneath. Then he held it up for Fibble to examine.
It was a tricycle! Fashioned after the Big Wheel that inspired it, it had a large front wheel with a chain that ran back to a gear attached to pedals. A post rose up from the front wheel to a set of wide handlebars. There was a small seat with a high back mounted just in front of two small rear wheels. The two dwarves had somehow found neon green paint and drawn flames along the side. The metal wheels were all covered in dragon hide recovered from Daginalistros, the undead dragon the demons had sent against them. The handlebar grips were wrapped in leather and had green streamers extending out both ends.
Jules clapped her hands and squealed in amusement as Lugs and several of the others chuckled. They all got to their feet to watch Fibble’s reaction.
The little cookie thief stared at the contraption, tilting his head from one side to the other. Noticing everyone watching him, he tried his best to look excited. “What… what is it?”
“D’oh!” Max laughed. “He won’t have ever seen a bike of any kind before.”
Brick took the trike and set it down on the ground. “It’s a special mount just for you. It’s like a small cart, but you don’t need a horse to pull it,” he explained patiently. Lifting Fibble from the table, he set him on the seat. The goblin looked almost afraid to touch the thing until Jules crouched next to him.
“Here Fibble, like this.” She placed his hands on the handlebars, then moved his feet to the pedals one at a time. When he was all set, she pointed to his right foot. “Okay, hold tight to the handles and push with the foot. Start it slow.”
Fibble did as instructed and began to push with his foot. The pedal moved, the gear turned the chain, and the trike began to move forward. Fibble immediately screamed and leapt off the contraption. It crawled to a halt as he clung to Jules.
“It can’t hurt you, sweetie!” Jules patted his head. “Come on, let’s try it again. When you push the pedals, it will move. Just like if you were riding Tigger.”
Fibble reluctantly got
himself back on the machine. Gripping tight to the handlebars, he pushed forward with his foot. The trike moved forward a few feet and stopped. Fibble looked back to Jules, and she said, “Push with your other foot next. One… two. One… two. Just keep going. And turn the handle when you want to turn.”
Fibble pushed with his other foot, then jerkily again with the first. He moved slowly toward the wall, getting the hang of it. Brick called out, “Turn!” and the little goblin obediently turned the handles to the left. He shouted “Wheeee!” when the machine obeyed his command and began to pedal faster.
As the trike picked up speed and people were having to dodge out of the way of the speeding goblin racer, Brick muttered, “Huh. We might have a problem.”
Everyone looked toward the dwarf, who was looking sheepish. “I… I dinna think to put any brakes on it.”
They all turned back to watch Fibble, who was now zooming toward the stables across the courtyard. His little feet were pumping hard and he was shouting something Alexander couldn’t quite make out.
A moment later, Bacon stuck his head out of the stable doors as if by a summons. The war pig’s eyes grew wide as he saw the goblin contraption flying toward him. Fibble, for his part, tried to turn to avoid a collision. Instead of turning smoothly at that speed, the sharp angle caused the bike to tip up and flip over. Goblin and machine bowled into Bacon, who just grunted at the impact.
A moment later, Fibble was up on his feet and jumping around. “Again!” he shouted, grabbing the tricycle and setting it upright before jumping on. He didn’t go as fast this time and weaved around the courtyard, seemingly practicing his turning.
Max patted Brick on the back. “I think he’s fine without brakes. As long as he doesn’t get pointed downhill!”
World At War Page 38
