by Oliver Mayes
Bartholomew paused on the steps and looked over at the forge, where a large portion of the imps were clustered in a frenzy of activity. At some point Noigel must have used the forge to kit them out with hammers and pickaxes and now they were clanging away like there was no tomorrow. Bartholomew winced with every blow. Damien quickly thought better of his suggestion.
“Actually, you know what, I’ll just bring—”
Bartholomew demurely raised a hand toward Damien without bothering to look back at him. It was polite, but it demanded silence. He floated the rest of the way down the steps and turned toward the forge. At his approach, Noigel’s screeching died in his throat and all the imps came to a total standstill. It went from raucous activity to deathly silence in the blink of an eye. You could have heard a flea fart.
Bartholomew picked his way through the workers, stopping in front of the mountain of iron before withdrawing the small purple bag from his cloak. He held it out in front of himself with one hand and swept iron bars into it with the other, humming to himself cheerfully all the while. The bag appeared to have an endless capacity, allowing Bartholomew to get every single one of the twenty bars into it without so much as a sag in the fabric.
Damien got his notification that the quest was complete and Bartholomew departed without looking back. Damien smirked. What a show-off. The moment Bartholomew crossed the threshold of Damien’s base, Noigel screeched with ludicrous intensity and the imps returned to work at twice the pace.
The imps were putting the finishing touches to his Soul Well as Damien headed down the stairs. Two days ago it had been a shoddy pile of rocks. Now it was an obsidian altar set on a plinth of cold iron. A far more fitting centerpiece. Noigel was examining his team’s work, flicking imaginary specks of dust from the altar’s surface.
Damien looked from the Soul Well to his dwindling pile of iron. Between the construction materials, the tools his imps had been using and Bartholomew’s quest, the majority of it was already gone. Damien had no problem with that. There was no point in hoarding materials when he could be using them instead. Even so, considering what he’d had to do in order to get them, Damien had hoped it would last a little longer.
“Noigel, how much iron do we have left?”
“Sixteen bars,” Noigel said without looking up from his imaginary dusting. “The party we fought was pretty well equipped. Lucky for us! Do you want me to use five iron bars to make you an item chest? You can store all your stuff in there, ya know, rather than having it lying around outside.”
“No, I’d rather save it for now. Is there anything we can use instead?”
Noigel snapped his fingers.
“There are those trees outside The Downward Spiral. We can make an item chest with wood instead. You should go with a team now and bring back some wood for construction.”
Damien frowned.
“Why do I need to go?”
“Have you seen your imps? They need adult supervision if they’re going to get anything done. Not to mention it’s a long way to the top. They’ll follow instructions less precisely if you aren’t close by.”
That sounded like a good reason. Nevertheless, Damien had bigger priorities than keeping his base tidy.
“It’ll have to wait until I come back, then. I need to plan our next move. You’re in charge while I’m gone. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Damien went into his menu and was hovering over the logout button when Noigel spoke.
“Err, master, if you don’t mind my asking, why do you need to leave in order to plan our next move?”
Damien closed the menu and looked back at Noigel, scratching his chin. How much could Noigel actually understand?
“I need to use the internet to cross-reference information from Rising Tide’s raid schedule with online resources pertaining to the dungeons they’ll be running tomorrow and the details of their party.”
Noigel stared at him blankly.
“I’m sorry, master, that seems awfully strange to me…”
Damien chuckled to himself and opened his menu to log out again. Noigel wasn’t as clever as he thought. No surprises there.
“….because there’s a perfectly good internet browser you can use right here. It’s in your ‘Settings’ tab. From there go to ‘Connections’, then ‘External Browser’. That way you don’t have to waste time logging in and out. Right?”
Damien eyeballed his menu for a good five seconds before wordlessly following Noigel’s instructions. The little git was right. Tucked away two sub-menus deep was the option that would allow Damien to go online while he was still in-game. He’d never even heard of it. The menu closed automatically and a browsing window appeared in the top right corner of his screen, closely followed by a glowing keyboard that materialized in front of him at his waist.
“Oh. Thank you, Noigel. That’s very helpful.”
The imp was still trying his best to keep a blank face, but his eyes were gleaming.
“My pleasure, master. Oh, and since you’re staying, you can accompany a team of imps to get that wood while you do your research. If you want to, of course. Master.”
Damien had no response. It was definitely better than logging out. It was just annoying that Noigel was being rude in such a polite, helpful way. Damien had liked it better when he was stupid.
“Make sure everything’s in order when I come back.”
Noigel gave him a salute that dripped with disrespect. Damien had to contain a groan of disgust as he led the minions still attached to him out of his base. After a brief delay he heard Noigel scream again and the clanging of pickaxes on stone began anew. Maybe he was clearing space for new buildings, or gathering rocks for use in later construction. At least he was industrious.
Damien led his team to the top and assigned them to fell a tree as he focused on the browser, pulling the raid schedule from his headset into a separate window on his left. There were a few raids, but the lower-level ones were no good to him: half the people who’d signed up for them had already met their end earlier that day against him and the golem, optimistically thinking they would live to fight again tomorrow.
There was only one anywhere near Damien's level. It was not to his liking. A twenty-man raid on a level 25 dungeon. This was not good. He’d only just about managed to get away with fighting a ten-man raid today, and that had been with a liberal amount of help from the boss.
Even Damien wasn’t cocky enough to believe he could take on a group of twenty people, with or without the element of surprise.
Yet he couldn’t spend the day doing nothing. He’d lost too much time already, thanks to CU’s intervention. Not to mention there was no guarantee Freja would let him stay in his pod another day. He needed to make the most of it now.
With more optimism than he felt, he started checking the players one by one in the vague hope they’d be under-leveled. His hopes were dashed. He checked the profiles of eight players before wringing his hands in frustration. If anything, they were overpowered for the dungeon they were facing. Not a single one of them had been less than level 25 and some were pushing 30, almost twice the level of his own character.
Damien gritted his teeth. Why? Why were so many people playing a dungeon that wouldn’t give them good gear for their level? Whatever it was, it was screwing him over. In desperation he looked up the dungeon, ‘Twisted Forest’, hoping it might provide some sort of explanation. If the monsters were unusually powerful he might be able to use them to his advantage.
A brief search turned up nothing out of the ordinary. There were a lot of monsters, as you’d expect for a larger raid, but even the boss was only level 25. It made no sense.
He was still mulling it over when he realized it had been quiet for some time.
He looked up to find his minions had finished harvesting the tree and were patiently waiting. Damien led them back down, passing the traps almost automatically after making the journey so many times, still looking for more information as he went. He fo
und a lead in the third result.
JOIN CLAN GODHAMMER TODAY! Home base in Brociliande with raids every day and exclusive control of the extremely lucrative Twisted Forest! Recruiting starts at level 20, apply on the clan website.
Damien clicked the link and found himself on Clan Godhammer’s front page, complete with a spiel about the benefits of signing up. It seemed Godhammer had put their main base right next to the Twisted Forest and were advertising it as their own dungeon. The site went on at some length about how Twisted Forest had huge amounts of rare herbs and crafting materials. It was obviously a big selling point for them.
Damien’s lips parted as the gears turned in his head, grinding out the answer. Rising Tide was running Godhammer’s dungeon, right under their noses. That’s why they needed higher level players; so they could do it quickly and get out before they were noticed. That didn’t help Damien, though. Knowing the reason why didn’t make the task ahead of him any more possible. It only meant that the players he’d be fighting would be stronger, his window of opportunity shorter and the trip to the dungeon more dangerous.
The sounds of construction in his base faded. Disheartened by his discovery yet determined to find a solution, Damien walked in to check the fruits of Noigel’s labors. He was met with a terrible sight. He should have seen this coming.
“Noigel? What is that?”
The imp was racked with shudders from the effort of containing his mirth. The minions had already finished creating the item box and even now were dutifully transporting leftover materials to it in a gang line. Next to it stood a monument that defied god, good taste and common sense, all in one go.
Damien wasn’t sure what he’d expected Noigel to be doing in his absence, but it wasn’t this. There was a statue of an imp standing on its hind legs with regal posture and a fist pumping into the air. It was slightly larger than Damien and the spitting image of the little bastard standing in front of it.
“I-I thought this would be a good design, mah-mmmah-master. For muh-muh-morale.”
Damien had a brief but powerful urge to pick up Noigel and drop-kick him like a football. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. This was an easy fix and he had better things to do.
“I’ll deal with you shortly, after I’ve dealt with something more important. If that thing is still there when I’m done, you can kiss your command privileges goodbye.”
Damien strode up the stairs to his Gateway, turning his back on the obscenity blighting his base, and sat cross-legged in the middle of the platform to continue his work.
He did some extra research on the dungeon, trying to find some way of turning his fortunes around. After what felt like a long time with no results Damien grew frustrated.
“Hey! How’s planning going?” Noigel asked.
“I only have a few days left to defeat Aetherius,” Damien sighed. “The only Rising Tide raid tomorrow morning is too high-level, has twenty people and they’re attacking a dungeon in another guild’s territory.”
Noigel kept his mouth shut but moved around to stand next to Damien and read through the browser with him. After a while Damien forgot the imp was even there as he clicked through one player profile after the next.
This was hopeless. There was no way he could do this by himself. Noigel arrived at the same conclusion, piping up for the first time in ten minutes.
“Is there anyone you can ask for help? This is kinda ridiculous for you to attempt alone.”
“There’s no one, Noigel. It’s just me.”
The imp scratched his chin.
“If you weren’t an occultist, you could tell the other guild Rising Tide was invading their territory. But they’re allied to the Empire, so they’re naturally hostile to you. They’d attack you on sight.”
Damien snapped. Being told there were guilds besides Rising Tide that might also kill him did not qualify as useful information.
“Gee, thanks, Noigel! As if I hadn’t thought of that already! It’s good to know that if I decide to give up, I can come straight to you for new and exciting ways to die!” He flung a hand out at the Clan Godhammer page as Noigel bristled. “I might as well send their guild leader a message and let them know I’m….”
But of course. That was exactly what he should do. Except he didn’t have to do it in-game; he had the guild’s website right in front of him. He froze in mid-speech, the realization piercing through his cloud of anger. Noigel filled the gap, unaware of his master’s epiphany.
“Hey! It’s not my fault you keep choosing such impossible tasks! If anyone has a death wish here—”
“Noigel—”
“—it’s you! Going off on your own to attack an out—”
“—Noi—”
“—post while I’m tapping your head for half an hour, wondering if you’d rather die than cancel your possession! Then for an encore we go fight a golem bigger than an—”
“Noigel! Shut up for a second. You did it. Good job. Well done!”
“—incubus, as if fighti…what?”
Damien didn’t answer. He was already scrolling through the Clan Godhammer page, looking for somewhere or someone he could post to. After some rummaging around he managed to find a Q&A forum. Excellent. He could post here anonymously and it wouldn’t link back to his Saga Online account. Noigel squinted at the page and scratched his head.
“What’s with all the squiggly lines? Does this make sense to you? What are you doing?”
So, his knowledge was confined to official Saga Online resources. That was a relief. Noigel was already enough of a troll without having unrestricted access to the internet. Damien steepled his fingers, considering what to say.
If he told Godhammer that Rising Tide was going to attack tomorrow, they might start guarding the entrance to the Twisted Forest and he’d lose his chance entirely. He needed to put them on edge and have them ready to go without preventing the raid from happening.
“I’m trying to start a guild war. If I can pit Rising Tide against Godhammer, it’ll make my life much easier.”
The imp grinned from ear to ear.
“Perfect! So, how will you get them on your side?”
“I won’t. I’ll tell them Rising Tide is attacking their dungeon. Then, while they attack each other, I’ll attack them both.”
Noigel went uncharacteristically quiet. It didn’t last long.
“Let me just see if I’ve got this right. You’re going to attack a party of twenty hostile heroes. And to make this easier, you’re inviting another twenty hostile heroes?”
“Yes. They’ll weaken Rising Tide’s party for me and I’ll pick up assists while sitting on the outside of the battle. Better yet, I can attack Godhammer’s party as well. Half the danger, twice the experience.”
“I don’t know how to put this gently, Daemien, so I’ll just go ahead. Your math is really bad.”
Damien snorted. He knew where Noigel was coming from, but this was a far better idea than fighting Rising Tide’s raiding party by himself with nothing but lower level mobs to serve as a distraction. In any case, it was the best plan he had, and he didn’t have time to think of another one.
Damien set his fingers to the keyboard and began typing.
Guest02439: Is the Godhammer headquarters going to be undefended tomorrow morning? It’s important. Pm me. Thnx.
Now he just had to wait. If he got no response he could continue baiting them. He didn’t think it would be necessary. If anyone from the clan was watching the forum, that message would be enough to get their attention. In the meantime, he had something else he needed to do. He minimized the external browser menu and examined the notifications that had been highlighted since his discussion with Bartholomew.
Demon Gate Unlocked!
Demon Gate: Mana cost: 300, Cooldown: 30 seconds – You focus on an imp in your line of sight and swap places. Any momentum acting on you is transferred to the imp and vice versa. Use with caution.
Was this…. a teleportation skill? Oh, man.
This he had to see. He slyly glanced at a group of minions that had formed a circle around a single breakdancing imp. It was currently doing the worm. He focused on it and muttered the spell under his breath.
He should have heeded the last three words of Demon Gate’s description.
In an instant Damien found himself lying on the floor in the exact same position as his imp had been. The momentum was well and truly transferred. His head whacked into the dirt and he took 14 points of damage. The real damage was done to his pride.
Another day, another poorly executed test. Better to find out now than in combat. His imps diplomatically turned their backs on him, whistling as they wandered off to form new recreational groups elsewhere. Noigel sniggered behind him but managed to contain himself for the most part.
Damien dusted himself off and noted the timer that had appeared on his HUD, counting down from thirty. Thirty seconds was a long time in combat. He’d have to be careful with this ability. It might get him into more trouble than it got him out of.
There was a ping and his browser window glowed at the edges. He’d got a response!
Hughbris(Ghmod): That’s an oddly specific question. What do you want?
Damien went into his media page and took a still image of the Rising Tide raid schedule. He cropped out ‘Twisted Forest’ from the top so only the names of the players and the time of the raid would show. If they knew Rising Tide’s target was the Twisted Forest, they could assemble a much larger force outside the dungeon entrance and prevent them from entering. Even so, he needed Godhammer’s forces gathered somewhere nearby, ready for action. Their base would do nicely.
Guest02439: Rising Tide is attacking your headquarters tomorrow morning. Aetherius loves his publicity stunts. I just quit the guild - surprise surprise, they’re jerks. Here’s your warning. Hope you get them. You’re welcome.
