by Charles Dean
While the others excitedly went off to listen to Darwin likely give another speech--apparently he wasn’t half bad at them if people were this excited about the idea of him giving another--she found herself a cabin room below deck in which to log off unnoticed, satisfied she wouldn’t have to lose her lunch like the only kid with glasses in a highschool drama. She knew that a lot of people didn’t ever worry about an NPC seeing them log off, but for some reason it still bothered her, like she was being caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
When she finally finished logging off and walked downstairs, she was surprised to find that her dad wasn’t home from work yet. She was so tired from staying on as many consecutive hours as she had that the only reason she didn’t pass out right when she logged off was that she was also ridiculously hungry. She went into the kitchen and grabbed a yogurt pack to snack on.
Kass almost fell out of her chair as soon as she turned the gamer news station on. There, right in front of her eyes on the overhead screens surrounding the newscaster, were clips of the Stormguard Alliance cutting through the White-Wings from the conflict she had just finished.
“As you can see, Ryan, the events of the day really did take a surprising turn. Going into the battle, we had all taken it to be a guaranteed loss with the only variable card being King Qasin, a wild card as of late,” the newscaster, a short dark-haired girl in a white dress, said as she spoke to the camera and not her co-anchor, “That’s why even though a victory alone should have been surprising, it is the way the victory was achieved that really captured Tiqpa players’ attention.”
“You’ve said that before, Daria, but why don’t you go over why exactly this is important for gamers to pay attention to. What exactly does the average, causal Tiqpa gamer need to notice from the video uploads of the battle?” her co-anchor, a tall blonde-haired, blue-eyed man with an overly pronounced chin, responded.
“Well, for starters, Ryan, this girl here is indeed a player. We’ve managed to piece together a good, clear image of her from all the replays uploaded, which we won’t show for her privacy’s sake, and check them with sources that were able to confirm she is in fact a player. Now, while that in itself isn’t a big deal, it is when you look at the fact that she’s riding a Hydra and appears to be commanding these monsters on her front lines,” Daria said as she pointed to a circle that appeared around Kass’s image on the screen. “We can’t say for certain if she’s the one in charge, but given her back line position, the fact that we have clip of her interacting with them during the battle, and the fact that she is the only one mounted--it’s a pretty safe bet that she is leading the strike.”
What? That’s me! And they think I’m the one leading the Faction! Kass watched in wide-eyed bemusement as the newscasters talked about her, explaining why she was such a noteworthy anomaly in the game.
“Now, if I’m not mistaken, you mentioned there was another possible leader in this force that struck from the north and dispersed the White-Wing legions, didn’t you?” Ryan said, his face still ignoring his co-anchor and focused solely on the camera. “I believe you called him ‘that bathrobe dude’?”
“Yes, you’re right. I should also mention that, from the clips we have, the other possible leader is this man,” Daria pointed to a still of Darwin with a blurred-out face, “who is the other significant part of the fight we have to note. From what we gather, he’s likely one of the most unique and crucial characters to appear in Tiqpa. For starters, this our first time across every racial starting area to even see a bathrobe in the game. Next--and here is the real kicker--everything he kills seems to come back to life and fight for him.”
“It comes back to life and fights for him?” Ryan asked, not at all trying to look surprised as he clearly just read the line off the teleprompter.
“Well, as you can see from this clip, his blade clearly kills this diving White-Wing. However, just moments later, we see the same White-Wing reappear, the only difference being that it now has red eyes. It then takes off at the approaching White-Wings and fights the very force it was once on,” Daria, a much better actor than Ryan, managed to talk as much with her hands as she did with her mouth, pointing out every detail she mentioned on the video clip next to her as the events occurred. “Now, there is one final important detail to pay attention to with this one. At one point, he’s engaged by the Commander of the White-Wing forces, a level 70 raid boss.”
“What happened then?” Ryan asked, ignoring the camera and teleprompter as Daria told the story.
“Well, that’s the thing: we don’t know. What we do know is that the Commander failed to kill him in a dive. Then we know that he, King Qasin, and the White-Wing Commander faced off for a few moments, and then we don’t know anything else,” Daria put her hand down. There was nothing to point out on the last image they had of the three standing off.
“So we don’t know anything after that?” Ryan asked, looking at the image behind him.
“Well, we do have one final detail. It’s at this point that no one is able to capture any more images of the man or his group. Everyone who was managing to get close enough to capture him on their replay cameras turned to stone or died almost immediately after these three confronted each other,” Daria spoke into the camera as Ryan paid close attention to her. “It’s starting to be speculated that he was the cause of it, though other rumors are flying around all over about the game creators possibly breaking their vow to not interfere and saving the starter island from the full-scale White-Wing invasion. One way or another though, it’s all speculation.”
So no one has even seen enough to guess about Stephanie doing it . . . then again, none of them even know Stephanie, Kass thought as she ate more of her yogurt.
“Wow, that’s really fascinating Daria,” Ryan said excitedly. “In fact, I’d have to say I can’t wait to find out what the players uncover and send us. Also, is there any way we can get more information on this bathrobe-wearing man? He’s definitely a unique character, and the more information we can get on him for our Tipqa Wiki, the better.”
“That’s right folks: send in as many details and clips on this bathrobe-sporting warrior as well as this Hydra-riding player as you can. As soon as we find out how to get mounts or raise monster armies, we’ll be sure to patch the details straight to you, the viewer,” Daria gave her best fake smile as she spoke.
Ryan held his hand to his earpiece for a moment, then added one final note, “Viewers, this just in--we are actually prepared to offer a cash reward if either the man, if he is a player, or woman were to set up an interview with us next week. We’ll need to verify that the player is the player in question, but the network will in fact provide a cash settlement to secure an interview with one of these two key individuals from the White-Wing invasion. The number is at the bottom of the screen. Call any time.”
As the segment faded to a commercial break, Kass couldn’t help but start saying the number at the bottom of the screen over and over again in her head so she wouldn’t forget it. She hadn’t had a job in a while, and while she wasn’t certain that she’d take the network up on their offer, she was very certain it wasn’t something she wanted to dismiss.
Bonus Chapter 1: Maddock’s POV in the Beach Battle.
Maddock:
The boat rode high in the water, rocking back and forth on the waves as they made the final stretch of their journey to crash upon the rocky coastline. Even though the summoning process had taken away precious hours that could have been used for other purposes, the end result seemed to have been well worth the wait--at first glance, anyway. Although it was one of the smaller classes of boats that existed within the world of Tiqpa, it was far more than could normally have been expected to be found within the realm of the starter islands. It was only through a dint of good fortune that the rare ores necessary for crafting the vessel had been found when raiding Valcrest that ever allowed it to be created at all. The boat itself stretched almost a full fifteen meters long from head to rudder a
nd reached a width of just over six meters amidships. The boat was equipped with a large heavy mainmast that sat just behind the center of the boat topped with a large triangular sail made of a heavy white canvas and a smaller foremast that was positioned forward closer to the bow. Also, much to the excitement of everyone present, the boat also carried three Cannons on board. Two were positioned at the bow and one on the small aft deck. All three were positioned on swivel mounts that allowed them to be aimed towards other boats and players alike; and, if Maddock had any say in the matter, they would all be seeing a great deal of use sometime very soon.
As soon as the ship had been summoned, the Guild members had rushed the boat in their excitement. They were now busying themselves running about on the deck and grabbing the Cannons, eagerly testing their range of movement. Some of them energetically jumped up and down on the ship’s decking, causing it to rock back and forth more vigorously in the already rocky water.
"Killers, all of them," Maddock thought to himself, "And yet they still act like children with a new toy on holiday."
Turning to Ku where they still stood on the dock, he pointed his hand in a sweeping gesture towards the pinnace and accompanied the gentlemanly flourish with slight bow. "Shall we?" he asked.
Ku made a mock curtsey in response, and Maddock followed her on board.
"Alright, kids, listen up!" he shouted over the sound of all the commotion. Everyone immediately came to a halt and stood facing him. "I think everyone has a general idea of what's going on at this point, but of those of you who may be lost, let me fill you in. As best we know, the White-Wings are launching a large-scale invasion on this island. More than likely this very spot will be crawling with the filthy fanatics within a few hours. Our first order of business is going to be getting the heck out of here."
He grabbed hold of the ship's wheel as he spoke and slowly began turning it towards the open ocean. "Our second order of business," he continued, "is to kill as many people as we can, destroy everything they own, and get even more filthy rich in the process."
A cheer went up from the men as they raised their fists in the air. The voices of Xane and Bear, the two Minotaurs that were present, could be heard above the rest, their deep bellows sounding out of place against those of the Humans. There was never anything like the promise of bloodshed and the spoils of war to get the men going.
Maddock turned the boat in a south-easterly direction, making for the open ocean. If he were to continue further eastward for a few hours, it would take him directly to the island populated by the White-Wings and Fire-Walkers. The thought had been sitting in the back of his mind for some time now. It was common knowledge at this point that most of the men had originally been expecting to head to the mainland in order to get a leg up on the competition before anyone else could make progress there. Ever since Maddock began suspecting that something was up with the White-Wings, however, he had begun forming the groundwork for another plan in the back of his mind. His raid on Valcrest in the early morning hours had been bold and daring. It had helped cement their position on the server as a force to be reckoned with; but, it had also alienated a large majority of the player base, especially those within the Human lands. From what he could tell by reading the forums, there were more than a few people after the fact that would have been happy to see his entire Guild burn for it--not that it was likely to ever happen.
For the past day, Maddock had been secretly planning on making a repeat of his attack on Valcrest. This time, however, he had full intention of attacking the White-Wing capital. To most, the thought would be unfathomable. Even at the worst of times, a Race's capital would remain heavily populated with Guards, players, and NPCs. Under normal circumstances, such a thing would be impossible. Maddock had a sneaking suspicion, however, that the White-Wings were going to over-commit to their attack on the other Races' starter island. If they were truly planning on subjugating the other Races in the name of their sun-god, there was no way they were going to pull any punches and risk losing. They would never risk besmirching the name of their precious deity and risk exposing it as a weak or foolish god. As a result, they would have to devote everything they had to the attack, leaving their city with what was likely a skeleton crew for defense.
The boat had moved swiftly away from the harbor and the rocky beach quickly faded into the distance. As they made progress towards the open ocean, the waves crashing over the bow of the boat grew fewer and farther between. The chop that had been present along the coastline quickly began to give way to the deep swelling waves that signaled they were moving further into deep water. Maddock turned the wheel to starboard taking them on a more southerly direction. He had no idea exactly how large the White-White army would be or what disposition it would take in crossing the ocean, but he had no intention of being caught in open water and having to risk attacking or running from a much more massive fleet.
Shane rose from the position he had taken up crouched near the bow of the boat and made his way back to where Maddock was at the helm. The wind generated by the boat's speed constantly tugged at the dark-black Cape he wore, threatening to pull it open. "So what's the plan?" he asked as he approached.
Maddock answered without ever taking his hands from the ship's wheel, "I kind of thought we might pay a little visit to the White-Wing capital and see what kind of fun we could have there. I seriously doubt those fanatics left enough of a force behind to stop a determined gopher, much less anyone like us, from having a little fun while they were away."
Shane was silent for a moment before answering, "You're seriously considering attacking another city? A Race's capital, even?"
"Why not? There's guaranteed to be a fight, and we should make out pretty well in loot. You have to admit that the raid on Valcrest paid off in dividends."
Shane rested his Longbow in front of him, casually learning on it for support as the boat rocked back and forth from the swelling of the waves. "Seems to me like you'd be wanting to get involved in this attack that's about to happen."
Maddock looked over at his long-time friend and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What in the world makes you think I would want to stick my nose into someone else's business? It's no concern of mine whether the starter lands are all controlled by the White-Wings--or anyone else for that matter. Soon enough we'll be on the mainland doing our own thing. You know as well as I do there's no coming back. What's the point?"
"Uhh . . . massive armies attacking one another? Chaos on both sides? Strung out supply lines ripe for the picking? You're telling me you're going to pass up the opportunity to screw up someone's day and wreak havoc wherever possible?"
Maddock blinked. "So, what you're telling me is you think we should take a group of thirty-odd people and attack a much larger force that numbers well into the thousands of combined players and NPCs? On what is basically a suicide mission? Just on the off chance we might cause some damage and make off with a little loot? Just because we can? You have a compelling point, I have to admit."
Shane grinned broadly in response, breaking his normally stoic facade. "I thought you might see it my way."
Maddock began the process of turning the boat to port, redirecting his course in a more northeasterly direction. A rough framework quickly formed itself in his head. If they were going to do this, it would take the utmost level of teamwork from his Guild. It also meant that he was going to have to get everyone online--and quick. They were going to be vastly outnumbered, and the possibly of getting separated from one another in such a large melee and being picked off one by one was a real concern. Without having any clue what the disposition of the battlefield was and limited knowledge of what was actually going on, it was almost impossible to form anything but a rudimentary strategy. Quite literally, they were going in blind. Any real plans would have to be formed the moment they arrived, not sooner.
Below him on the desk, Maddock could see Shane approaching small groups of men staggered around the desk in various positions. Some sat chatti
ng together, and others were fishing over the side of the ship hoping to make some progress leveling up their skill while they had the opportunity. As Shane went to each in turn, the reaction was the same. They exchanged questions and glanced back towards where Maddock stood at the helm as if gauging his sanity. In the end, however, each was left with a grim smile on his face. Knowing they were going into battle was one thing. Knowing that they were going into a battle in which they would all surely die was another--and they loved it. No one managed to get into this Guild without being a little bit crazy, and those who did never lasted long.
After Shane approached the last few men, his body grew very still and he stopped moving around. Maddock knew that this was the sign he was logging out. He would be in the real world making phone calls and sending messages via their private boards trying to rally the troops as fast as he could. They wouldn't have very long to get everyone together, but Maddock was also sure that no one would want to miss out on this either. It was going to be the largest battle the server had seen to date.
Time crept by slowly on the ocean without anything but the moving of the sun to count the passing of time. A few long and torturous hours had passed since Shane had originally suggested that they make this foray into the mouth of the waiting beast and Maddock had been repeatedly going over in his head every possible outcome he could think of. No matter how many times he went over it, there was no way to ever tell what was waiting for them. There was no way to make plans that far in advance; and, even then, every commander knew that even the best laid plans quickly went to the wayside as soon as the battle was engaged.
