by Oliver Mayes
Damien closed his browser before the mod could reply and reviewed his actions. There was a danger that the players Godhammer committed to defense would be even more dangerous than Rising Tide’s party, but it was a risk he had to take.
Without advance warning, the likelihood of them forming a party strong enough to take RT’s group head on would be slim, especially on a weekday morning. Damien had also diverted them into their base, not too far away from the dungeon. As long as they were ready and waiting, he could summon them with a simple message when the time was right and use them to block the Rising Tide raid group’s only exit. Hopefully they’d take the bait.
He clapped his hands and all activity ceased as every minion looked in his direction.
“Five imps, both hell hounds and the wraith on me. That means you too, Noigel. We have drills to run.”
23
Stop. Hammertime
Damien yawned and shifted his weight, the branch creaking underneath him. He hadn’t had as much sleep as he wanted, but at least there was no chance of him arriving late. He’d risen at the crack of dawn and shown up a full hour before Rising Tide were due for their dungeon run on the Twisted Forest.
He’d done it for the same reason the undercover raid was scheduled so early: gamers are not nature’s early risers. For Damien in particular, it was much safer to travel before the sunrise, what with the benefits of the Shadow Walker ability and the menagerie of minions following in his wake.
It had also given him time to scout the terrain and prepare.
After some deliberation, Damien had decided the treetops would be the safest place to hide while awaiting his targets. Having honed his use of Demon Gate the previous night, it was simple enough to position himself in unconventional hiding places.
His first trait, bestowing wings upon his imps, had made for an unexpectedly useful combination with his latest spell. Damien smirked as he thought of all the tricks he’d learned after just a few hours' practice. Why he’d ever decided to play a warrior was beyond him now.
Sure, the extraordinary strength was a rush, but he was much better suited to the tactical combat occultism provided. It was just a shame he was so squishy. Well, you can’t have everything.
He checked the time on his display. Not long now. The sun had already breached the horizon and light was bursting through the forest canopy, speckling the ground below with a shifting mosaic of leafy shadows. The unfortunate venue for his ambush had forced him to swap out the wraith on his way there: while his tests with it in the Downward Spiral had been instructive, there was no application for what he’d learned in this environment.
Damien crept along the branch until he was covered in foliage and squinted down at the canyon that had led him into the Twisted Forest. This dungeon was markedly different from the others he’d heard of. Usually they were linear and predictable, a single path with mobs all along it and a boss at the end, maybe a mini-boss or two if it was a serious undertaking.
The Twisted Forest had an entirely different mechanic. It was an open arena with enemies spaced out across the map, lying in wait to ambush players. Only when all of them were slain would the boss, a corrupted druid elder, appear at the forest’s center. Damien had no intention of letting things progress that far. As long as he stayed near the entrance, he wouldn’t trigger any patrols.
He was more worried about his forces on the ground. He’d positioned them in a patch of thick undergrowth, as far from the entrance as he dared, and had left Noigel in charge. Well, not exactly in charge. He’d given Noigel very specific instructions on how to engage. If the imp had any lingering reservations about the plan, he’d kept them to himself.
Damien opened his browser to check on the Godhammer website while he waited. It wasn’t very helpful. If there had been any discussion about the intel he’d provided, it had happened internally. He decided it couldn’t hurt to post another message. Better to keep them on their toes.
Guest02439: Anybody online? I sure hope so…
It was answered almost instantly, in a private chat window no less. Damien took this to be a good sign. When he saw the author, he went from delighted to conflicted in a single breath. They’d taken it more seriously than he’d anticipated.
Hammertime(GhAdmin): This is Godhammer’s leader. I hope you’re not wasting my time. Who are you?
At least he had their attention.
Damien was still thinking about how he should respond when the sound of footsteps echoing down the canyon raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
They were here.
He moved the browser off to one side and watched as the Rising Tide raid party tentatively filed into the dungeon zone, warily checking their surroundings.
Twenty heroes, all armed to the teeth and all at least eight levels higher than he was. The tree he’d so carefully chosen to perch in suddenly felt considerably less safe. It was too late to move now. He’d just have to hope nobody had the bright idea of looking up.
With the lightest possible movements of his head, Damien navigated into his media tab and took a screenshot of the full party at the dungeon’s entrance, complete with a timestamp. Then he sent it to the private chat Hammertime had opened, his fingers poised over the keyboard, waiting.
Hammertime(GhAdmin): I’m not sure what your game is, but if that’s where I think it is, you’re as good as dead. I’m on my way with my own group. If you leave now, maybe you’ll get out alive.
Ordinarily, Damien would have found the posturing quite funny. Being threatened by people online was a regular occurrence. However, his circumstances did not lend themselves to humor. Time spent out of the game wasn’t something he could afford.
Nor could he die here. This was his big play, a way to enter the Streaming Competition with a bang.
He hoped Hammertime arrived before the Rising Tide party set out too deep into the forest. A well-tailored message might elicit the desired haste from the guild leader.
Guest00439: Come get some, if you think you’re hard enough.
With a shake of his head, he closed the browser window for good. If that didn’t provoke a response, nothing would. The party below him had already gathered around a hasty campfire and were preparing their buff food.
There were too many of them for Damien to pick out individual targets. He’d have to do it the old-fashioned way instead: their classes and levels were easy enough to see and would provide a rough indication of how easy they’d be to kill. Assuming he didn’t get spotted first.
There was at least one player he did remember well enough, though: the mage, Krackle, who was the highest level at 29 and the designated party leader. He was currently overseeing the distribution of buffs, ensuring everyone was taking the raid seriously.
Thinking themselves alone, the rest of the group had relaxed since entering the forest. As the broth was shared among those gossiping excitedly around the fire, the veterans moved between the trees, harvesting the herbs and flowers Godhammer had touted on their page as precious, privileged resources. They were organized, but even so it was difficult to co-ordinate such a large group of people.
Krackle had called the resource harvesters back to get their food when the chatter of conversation was cut short by the sound of marching feet reverberating down the canyon. Everyone fell silent and looked at each other wide-eyed. Damien had painstakingly constructed their worst-case scenario. With elite dungeon mobs waiting to pounce in the trees ahead of them and a guild on the march behind them, they had nowhere to go.
It was Krackle who responded first, shouting orders and pointing, ordering his group into a hasty defensive formation. As the footsteps drew close enough to drown out his speech, the rangers and assassins moved into the trees on either side of the clearing while the other players scrambled into position, melee classes forming a wall with gaps allowing the casters behind them line of sight.
They were still scrambling for position when Hammertime arrived at the head of his forces.
D
amien bit his lip. Only a few minutes ago he was happy not to be playing a warrior, but Hammertime was giving him second thoughts. He was a beast. Level 38. Plate armor coating his torso and chainmail on his limbs, signed off with a customized helmet in the shape of a lion’s head. The most imposing thing about him was his size.
Damien hadn’t quite made it to level 30 with Scorpius, but he’d done his research on the class. Hammertime had clearly taken the ‘Behemoth’ trait. The technical aspect of this trait was that 30% of your natural strength was added to your constitution. The aesthetic accompanying it was that your character ended up being built like an elephant. It wasn't the trait Damien would have gone with; he’d had his eye on something a little more subtle. Still, he couldn’t deny it looked awesome.
The second most imposing thing about Hammertime was the size of his weapon. It was, predictably, a war hammer, but it was unlike any Damien had ever seen. The hammerhead was a cylinder of gleaming black metal, about the size and shape of a keg, with spikes covering the face. It was essentially a meat tenderizer, scaled up several hundred times. The strength requirement must have been obscene.
Hammertime strode forward without drawing it, pulling the attention onto himself while his guild raced in behind to make their own battle lines, blocking off the exit. It wasn’t a full raid group, but the presence of the guild leader tilted the odds squarely in Godhammer’s favor. He came to a stop halfway between the two forces and addressed the trespassers.
“Did you imagine I wouldn’t come?” he shook his head before scanning Rising Tides battle line. “Who’s the party leader?”
As one, the members of the Rising Tide group who were out in the open looked at Krackle. Damien had to stifle a laugh.
Pursing his lips, Krackle hesitantly raised his hand.
“I am. We didn’t come for a fight. We just wanted to do the raid and leave as quickly—”
Hammertime raised a finger to his lips.
“I didn’t tell you to speak. First, you’re going to listen. Then, you’re going to obey.” He turned away from Krackle to address the group at large. “Which one of you posted the messages to our website?”
Damien screamed internally. Why was he being so reasonable? They were supposed to be rabidly attacking each other by now, not having a discussion!
Krackle looked among his party and received only frightened stares and confused shrugs.
“Nobody here sent you any messages. Like I said, we don’t want a fight. Why would we message you when we were trying to do this quietly?”
Hammertime stared him down, but Krackle didn’t look away. Damien didn’t like where this was going. He needed to provoke them into fighting before they figured out they’d been set up. Most of his minions were with Noigel, but he’d hidden two in the trees around him. It wasn’t what he’d planned for them, but it looked like it was up to him to get this started.
He picked the closest one and thought of exactly how he wanted it to move. The imp crept to the far side of the trees and then jumped from branch to branch, making its way toward the Godhammer party.
“I don’t want a guild war,” Hammertime intoned. “We agree on that much. The only reason I’m here is because we received an anonymous tip that Rising Tide would attack our base this morning. So, imagine my irritation when they message again today, along with a picture of you lot entering my dungeon. It’s not complicated: someone here thought it would be funny to rub your little unsanctioned raid in my face. I’ve already decided who I want. The one who sent the messages.”
The imp reached the tree closest to the Godhammer party and started to clamber down it. Damien looked over the players to make sure it hadn’t been seen. All eyes were still on Hammertime.
“Since they’ve ruined your raid, it shouldn’t be too much trouble to give them up. I know they’re here, because they took a pic… you know what? Hold on a sec, I’ll show you.”
Nope. That absolutely could not happen.
Damien was out of time.
He changed the imp’s orders and it shimmied around the tree before kicking off, gliding on its wings directly over the Godhammer formation. Damien waited until it was suspended in the air over their heads, prompting a couple of the players to look up as he triggered Implosion.
One of the many things Damien had learned during testing yesterday were the benefits of using Implosion while the imp was in the air. Half the party was yanked off their feet and the whip-crack of the rift was quickly followed by the clang of metal on metal and shrieks of surprise. Players collided and spun helplessly before falling back to the earth, disorientated, unguarded and on top of each other.
While it did very little damage, with one carefully placed spell Damien had thrown them into total disarray.
Hammertime’s head snapped around, his mouth falling open in dismay as he watched his guild mates struggle against each other to escape the dogpile.
The Rising Tide party stood frozen, stunned by what had just happened. Before Krackle could utter a word, a single ranger in the trees who’d had an arrow nocked and pointed at Hammertime decided that this was the opportune moment to release. The arrow sailed through the air and pinged off the top of Godhammer’s guild leader’s helmet, ricocheting harmlessly into the trees. Hammertime twisted back round, fury in his eyes, and took his gargantuan war hammer in both hands.
Krackle clapped his hands together to channel mana. There was only one way his party were getting out of there alive now. His party followed suit, activating their combat buffs and preparing their own spells.
Hammertime was striding slowly and purposefully towards them when Krackle finished casting, unleashing a gigantic fireball. The guild leader knelt and crossed his arms in front of his face, bracing for the hit. But Krackle wasn’t targeting him.
The fire streaked past him like a comet and struck the pile of imploded players directly at their center. The five players who hadn’t extricated themselves from it fast enough were totally unprepared to shield themselves from the assault. Those who didn’t die on impact were incinerated where they lay.
Damien only shared the experience with Krackle, since they were the only two who had inflicted damage. While Damien hadn’t dealt the killing blow, he got plenty of experience for the assists. He rose to level 19. But there was no time to check his stats.
Down below, Hammertime charged straight across the open ground toward Rising Tide’s party. He’d activated his second trait, Berserker Rage, and was suffused with an incandescent red glow. He did not look happy. Spells and projectiles that would have killed Damien in one shot were pinging off his armor with all the force of BB pellets.
Rising Tide’s primary tank ran ahead of his party to try and do his job, his shield raised up on one side in anticipation of where the hammer was positioned to strike.
That's optimistic.
Hammertime was not a level 25 dungeon boss. Hammertime had not carefully tailored his skills to provide enemies with a rewarding combat experience. His hammer connected with the shield, the shield connected with the tank’s face and half a second later the tank’s face connected with the trunk of the tree Damien was sitting in. Damien felt the tremor even up in his high branch.
Upon watching their hardiest party member get snuffed out in one swing, Rising Tide broke into two groups and made for the trees on either side.
Damien gulped. This fight was on another level. But he hadn’t come here to be a spectator, and two levels was not worthy of the effort and planning he’d put into this endeavor.
He had to make it count.
The two parties had both been split and disjointed skirmishes were breaking out all around him. This was his moment. A movement in the trees on the far side of the clearing drew his attention. One of Rising Tide’s rangers was standing on a thick bough, using the trunk of the tree for cover and taking potshots at anything with a red name. He was isolated, and Damien’s remaining free imp was only two trees away.
After a brief mental command, th
e imp landed gently on the branches above. The ranger was so focused on his targets that he didn’t realize he had a visitor. Damien hurriedly equipped his newly available level 19 Shankyou’s Striking Dagger while keeping his Sacrificial Dagger equipped.
Dual wielding, baby.
Taking a final calming breath, he ordered his imp to drop down. The moment it landed on the branch behind the ranger, Damien stabbed forward with his left hand and cast Demon Gate. He must have practiced the motion a hundred times the night before. It paid off.
His arm was half extended when he cast the spell and he’d no sooner swapped places with his imp than the serrated blade sank through the leather jerkin and deep into the unsuspecting ranger’s back. In his haste he’d failed to hit a critical spot, but he still did three times more damage for getting a sneak attack with a dagger.
The leather armor offered little resistance against the strike, but Damien was still surprised to see he’d hit for 182 damage. He was even more surprised when the ranger peered over his shoulder, his health bar still 3/5 full.
Damien quickly stabbed him with his Sacrificial Dagger and used it to pin the ranger against the tree as he struck again and again with Shankyou’s serrated blade, filling him with holes. The serrated spine did half its damage each time it was withdrawn. The stabs had their damage reduced by armor, but the 50% damage for withdrawing the blade suffered no such penalty. In this scenario, quantity and quality were one and the same.
The ranger had barely realized what was going on before Damien plunged the blade into the back of his neck instead. The benefit of hitting with a critical strike was the last straw and the ranger became dead weight, falling out of the tree and tumbling lifelessly to the ground below them.
Damien went up another level. Level 20. That was a big milestone, but he couldn’t savor it yet.
While he’d dispatched the ranger, Godhammer had rallied. Their leader had provided them with the space to get back into position and they’d reorganized for the task at hand.
