by Rachel Aaron
That all seemed pretty obvious to her, so Tina was surprised when Assets ripped off his ruby shades. "Miss Anderson," he said sharply. "Please step over here with me for a moment, if you will."
Caught off guard by the teacher-like tone, Tina let Assets pull her behind a nearby stack of crates. When they were out of earshot, Assets demanded, "Do you know who I am?"
"The Earl of Elixirs...?" Tina offered, wondering what the fuck she'd just stepped in.
"No," Assets said, flipping his hair in an overly feminine fashion. "The FFO Billionaire is just a character I play. I'm actually Bridget Walsh, CFO for a company whose name would not be on the S&P 500 without me. I sit on the boards of three other multinational firms as well, so I hope you understand how much it means when I tell you that I don't want to go home." The elf finished with a stomp of his foot.
Tina could only gape. "You're a girl?" she blurted out. "And you're like some kinda real life bigwig?" When Assets nodded, Tina's jaw dropped farther. "Why the hell do you want to stay here, trapped as a low-level character? Don't you have better things to do, like go home and be rich?"
"Because money is the only score I've ever cared about," Assets replied haughtily. "And there's more of that to be made here than I could ever get at home. If we can survive to exploit them, this is a land rich in economic conquest. They're still on a gold standard! They don't even have the concept of a central bank or business loans or corporate taxes. Do you know how much money I could make here? I could be this world's Rockefeller!" The elf clenched his fists. "Don't you see? The fact that I'm the wrong gender is insignificant compared to the fact that I'm young, beautiful, healthy, and have a lifetime's worth of economic knowledge no one in this world has even encountered before. Every old trick is new again, and they're all mine to exploit. I understand that going home is what keeps us players together as a united front, but there are many here--myself included--who intend to stay. Probably more than you realize, so I'd appreciate if you weren't so quick to throw this world under the bus, because after you're gone, we will be calling it home."
"What about plan B?" Tina demanded angrily. "I don't mind if you want to stay--that's your business--but I won't endanger everyone else's chances because you want to stay here and play Monopoly. You were the one who suggested using wind-fire powder."
"As a lever to get the king to the table," Assets snapped. "Not literally!"
"A lever you can't use is just a stick," Tina snapped back. "I'm all for bluffing, but if the bluff fails and we get cornered, I need to know if you're going to have a problem pulling that trigger and burning Bastion to the ground if that's what it takes to save ourselves."
"I'll do what it takes to survive this mess so that I can one day climb to the top," Assets said coldly, putting his shades back on to hide his golden eyes. "Have no fear of that. My main problem is not being recognized or protected by the law. I can't do business properly without the law on my side. If we bring the king to his knees or conquer Bastion for ourselves, that will change. It is the first and most essential step for my plans. Abusing the absence of modern economic theories and regulatory laws will be the second."
That statement didn't make Tina feel much better. In fact, this whole conversation was making her wonder if she was nurturing a future supervillain. But for now at least, Assets was her supervillain, and she had people to save.
"So long as we're still on the same page about what has to be done, we have no quarrel," Tina said firmly. "Once we find a way home, you're free to do whatever you want, but until that point, we do whatever it takes to keep this crazy train on the tracks and full steam ahead. Agreed?"
"Agreed," the elf said.
Tina nodded. "Good, and on that note, I need more metal."
Assets made a face. "I'm not made of iron, you know. Other people also need--"
"Those other people can use other metals," Tina said sharply. "I'm making the armor that's going to keep our front lines alive. I'll be at the forge all night if I have to, but I can't work without materials, and we can't survive if our front line folds."
"Then I suppose I'd better tell my people to start scavenging for lost nails," Assets said bitterly. "Because that's what we're down to."
"If I can melt it, I can use it," Tina said with a grin. "Just have them get it together and bring it to the forge. I'll take care of the rest. Oh, and try to get everyone some food tonight at least. Malakai didn't attack today, but that just means he's probably going to attack tonight or tomorrow, and I want everyone at full power."
Assets grimaced again. "I'll see what I can do."
"I know you can handle it," Tina said, walking out into the night. "You're the best."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," the elf called after her, but Tina didn't miss the smirk on his handsome face as he turned and started hustling his people into the corners for scrap metal.
***
Since she couldn't work until Assets got her more supplies, Tina took the opportunity to check on Cinco. It was now well after dark, but the training going on in the flat stretch of grass on the island's southern side showed no sign of stopping. Lit by giant bonfires, three whole raids of players were working in groups, attacking lines of dummies made from hay bales while CincoDeMurder, Shankfest, and other Red Sands guild members screamed at them.
"For the last time, morons, stop attacking his chest!" Cinco bellowed. "The chest is the most heavily armored part of the target! It's also the part his weapon is guarding. This isn't a game anymore! You can't just swing for whatever and knock off hit points. On a real body, you need to go for the instant kill or a disable. That means the head, the throat, the knees, or the elbows. Everywhere else is a waste of time, so stop being lazy and kill that fucker! Now go again!"
The players winced and started whacking dummies, their wooden practice swords landing slightly closer to the head.
Cinco was sucking in breath for another yell when he saw Tina coming over. Grinning, he waved at her and elbowed Shankfest. "Hey, watch these idiots for me for a sec. If anyone goes for a chest shot again, stab them where it counts. Maybe they'll learn that way."
Tina winced at the violent joke, then she noticed how much blood was splattered on the grass, as well as the line of Red Sands healers relaxing nearby, their places surrounded by plates of food from where they'd clearly been replenishing their mana from lots of healing.
"Holy shit, Cinco," Tina said as the other guild leader jogged over. "You're being a bit brutal, aren't you?"
"Hi to you, too, Tina," the red-armored Berserker said, taking off his helmet to give her a wink. "And the brutality is part of the program. We don't have time to instill proper discipline in these kids. Pain is the quickest teacher I've got, so that's what I'm using."
"I understand that," Tina said, shifting her feet on the bloody grass. "But this feels... excessive."
"It might be," Cinco said. "But they'll be dying if they fuck this up tomorrow, so I think some excess is in order."
Tina sighed. "Just don't break anyone, okay? We don't have that many people over level fifty."
"Better they break here than on the battlefield," Cinco said grimly, then he flashed her a grin. "But I don't think we'll have any dropouts. No one survives this long post-transition without getting blood on their hands. Even this mishmash of idiots has a lot of guts. No aim, but guts."
Tina still didn't like it, but she decided to let it go. Cinco wasn't entirely wrong. She didn't want people to run screaming when the enemy came at them, either, and if his methods kept them from dying, well, it was only for one more night.
"So what brings you over here?" Cinco asked, grinning at her with his hands on his belt. "Need some instruction in fighting too? FYI, I'm duke-ranked with the long sword and spear by two HEMA associations back home. We're pretty busy, but I don't mind giving you some of my personal time. You know, one guild leader to another."
He leaned in as he finished, getting uncomfortably close, but Tina knew better than to back away.
She'd been dealing with macho dudes since she started gaming, and playing Roxxy only made things easier.
"Not today, thanks," she said, using the distance he'd closed as an opening to give him a friendly--but not soft--punch on the pauldron. "I just came over to check on your progress. Are we going to get gibbed?"
Cinco rubbed his arm. "Individually, they're mostly good enough. As a unit?" He shrugged. "We've gotten past the stabbing-each-other stage, but it takes at least one big battle to gel a raid's teamwork. It's a pity we can't get that before we need it."
That was not what Tina had hoped to hear. Maybe she'd taken for granted just how well the Roughnecks had pulled together on the march through the Deadlands. Still, she heard a "but" hanging in Cinco's voice. "But?"
"But," Cinco continued with a smirk, "we have a lot of real mad-dog killer types in the mix in here."
"That doesn't sound like a good thing," Tina said in alarm, remembering all the bodies they'd seen on the march through Bastion. "Please tell me you aren't talking about actual murderers."
"Surviving in Bastion is for the strong and the savage," Cinco replied nonchalantly. "I don't ask how people did it because I don't want to have to deal with any checkered pasts. But 'mad-dog killer' is just PvP slang. It means we have people who are really good at fighting solo on a chaotic battlefield. They're called mad dogs because, while they're great at taking out the enemy, they get carried away with it, which makes them suck at teamwork."
That was a relief to hear. Tina really didn't want to deal with crime-and-punishment issues yet. But lack of teamwork was going to be a problem.
"Don't worry, Tina," Cinco said, giving her a wink. "I've whipped worse groups than this into winners during the public war events. These folks are actually really good material because no one's dicking around like they would in-game. Everyone understands we're screwed for real this time, and that does wonders for discipline. If they can survive this battle and get a bit more training, we'll have some crack troops."
"Then let's do our best to get them through," Tina said, pointing back at the forge. "I've finished most of the high-level armor if you want to start sending people up. Start with the lowest geared. They'll get the most benefit."
"Will do," Cinco said. Then he moved in close again. "And that offer for private lessons is always good. I also do MMA grappling, in armor and out, if you're looking for someone who can take you."
He gave her a long once-over, and Tina clenched her teeth. She didn't want to have to train this raid herself, though, so she swallowed her sharp comeback, waved for him to carry on, and headed back up to her smithy to see if Assets had found her metal yet.
And behind her, glowing in the dark across the city, the Bastion flickered.
Chapter 14
James
The dungeon beneath Bastion's royal castle seemed to be the only part of FFO that hadn't gotten bigger when the game became real. James supposed that made sense. After all, the old prison had been an entire instance with seven floors, five bosses, rats the size of Labradors, and zero actual functioning cells. The real prison was a far more practical single hallway below the central keep, with thick stone walls and two rows of cells separated by arm-thick iron bars.
The wooden bunks and straw-strewn floor weren't as posh as Lady Siku's prison, but there was plenty of room to move around, and nothing was truly filthy. The wards on the walls cut off the natural flow of magic, leaving the air empty of the colored streams he used to cast, but James wasn't supposed to be using spells, anyway. They were in here to be model prisoners, and that was exactly what he meant to be.
"Hooray for not dying!" Flameboyant said as he flopped onto his cot. "Most successful unsuccessful suicide mission in history!"
"I'd prefer if we were not in prison again," Ar'Bati grumbled, pacing the length of the large cell he and James had been locked in together. "But I agree it was a victory. We delivered the letters, and action is being taken to stop the Once King's attack. Our honor is still in question, but I'm certain we will be vindicated when the true traitors are brought to justice."
"Yeah," James said, staring glumly through the bars at their weapons, which the guards had piled in the corner by the door a good twenty feet away. "We got the mission done, guys. Let's be proud of that."
"You don't sound like you're proud," Flameboyant pointed out. "What gives, man? We won! The king listened to you."
"He did," James admitted, putting his head in his hands. "But only after I threw my sister under the bus. I was talking to the king! It was the perfect time to explain her side of things, but I was too focused on the Once King to even think about it. I made her sound like a villain just so they'd believe me!"
"You cannot save her from her own actions," Ar'Bati said in disgust. "She did attack the Royal Knights. She did imprison us. She did send an Assassin to stop you. If she sounds like a villain, it's because she's acted villainously."
"But you know she only did all of that stuff to protect her people and me!" James said angrily. "I'm worse than SilentBlayde. At least he only screws people over out of love. I threw Tina to Malakai just to get an edge in an argument!"
Sharp pain exploded across the back of his skull as Ar'Bati smacked him. "Stop eating your own tail," his brother scolded. "You're nothing like that pitiful Assassin. He threw away his honor for a woman who doesn't even look at him. You did what needed to be done to save us all. If your sister has an ounce of sense, she'll understand that."
"Maybe she will eventually, but..." James slumped down to the straw-covered floor with a full-body sigh. "You don't know our childhood. Tina didn't just wake up one day and decide I was an incompetent idiot who couldn't be trusted. I did that. I... I used to push her around a lot when we were kids. I broke her arm once by accident, testing out a new hold. I knew I had no business trying a move like that on an untrained person, but I was in such a rush to get my first black belt that I did it anyway, and she paid the price. She always pays for my mistakes. FFO was supposed to be different. I'm supposed to be good here, but I'm still just... me."
There was a whole world in that word that James didn't want to think about. He was trying to push all the guilt and anger and self-loathing back into its box before his evil staff sensed it when Ar'Bati smacked him upside the head again.
"Ow," James said irritably, rubbing his skull. "Would you stop that?"
"No," Ar'Bati snapped, tail lashing. "Not when you are being so ridiculous."
James looked away with a glower. "Not in the mood for the tough straight-talk routine right now, Fangs."
"Too bad," his brother said, reaching down to grab James around the waist.
Depression turned into alarm as James was hauled up off the floor and thrown into the opposite wall of the cell. He smashed against the iron bars hard enough to set his head spinning. By the time he was back on his feet, Ar'Bati was stalking in front of him, his slitted eyes gleaming in the dark like a tiger's.
"Listen to yourself," he snarled at James. "You are the general who won the battle for Red Canyon! Your bravery and cleverness saved Windy Lake from gnolls, undead, and Lilac's turning, and your compassion saved me from dishonor. For all these reasons, you were adopted as a son of Rends Iron Hides, one of the four lords of the Savanna. How dare you disparage yourself? Do you know how hard I've had to work just to keep up with you?"
James froze in confusion. "What?"
"You are the hero of the entire Savanna!" Fangs yelled. "We achieved complete and total victory over our enemies because of your actions, while I did nothing but try to tear you down. But you did not hate me for it. You accepted my hate and welcomed me as your friend. It is because of you that I did not become a monster willing to slaughter women and children in pursuit of revenge. When I look at Captain Malakai, I see what I could easily have been if you had not stopped me. You are my savior, my brother. So stop saying that you are a bad person!"
"Just because I did good by you doesn't mean I was always that way!" James cried. "Y
ou don't understand. The me you know now isn't how I used to be. I've been a terrible brother to Tina my whole life, and I just keep doing it! I got our family into debt. I ruined her chance to get a loan for college. I--"
"You haven't senselessly beaten her in a rage," Fangs said. "You never stabbed her or tried to murder her twice." The warrior shook his head. "If I can come back from those depths, you can come back from whatever wrongs you've done your sister. She must care about you, or she wouldn't have sent her best Assassin to bring you back when you ran."
"She does care," James said bleakly, looking down at the ground. "No matter what I did or how mad she got, Tina never stopped caring and worrying about me. I know that, and I still served her up to Malakai on a platter. What kind of person does that make me?"
"One who would choose the good of a kingdom over his own," Fangs said in a surprisingly understanding voice. "But our duty is done. The king has been warned. You are free now to be the brother she deserves."
James shook his head. "She won't want me."
"Then you must prove to her that she is wrong," Ar'Bati said. "You must find a way to earn back her respect and trust. Only then will she understand why you did what you had to do. Maybe it will happen when your warnings are proven right and the Once King's army arrives. Maybe it will take more. Your sister is as stubborn as the rock she's made of, but if you prove her wrong enough times, even she will have no choice but to acknowledge that you are not a coward who needs her protection. But nothing can be done while you insist on beating yourself up and acting like the self-hating, incompetent fool she considers you to be."
James didn't know what to say. As usual, Fangs saw things from a totally different angle than he did. James wasn't sure it was the right one, but it helped put his tattered relationship with his sister into a fresh perspective, and that made him feel a lot more hopeful than he'd expected.
"Thank you, brother," he said quietly.
"You're welcome," Fangs replied, giving him a final punch in the arm. "That's all that needs to be said, then."
