by Michael Ryan
“Sorry,” Smith said. “Part of the reason was nondisclosure agreements. I was forbidden to do certain things to give myself an advantage in trials. I trust you now, and as we go forward, I won’t have a reason to keep secrets.”
“What does a Sagittalian look like?” Dale asked.
Smith stood, took a few steps back from the lunch table, and jumped. Stomping the ground with both feet, he became a giant ape, like a gorilla without the hunched body.
He had a humanoid face, but it was covered in fur.
He wore leather and metal armor. The metal looked hand-beaten and had a copper patina to it. The symbols on his gear looked as if they were Hindu, and it seemed to Dale that there were monkey gods represented in the carvings.
Smith carried a longsword with an ivory handle, which had intricate patterns carved into it. He wore a helmet with short horns that were capped with silver spikes adorned with inlaid golden symbols. His leather bracers and other pieces of armor were covered with pointed spikes.
Smith let out a growl.
He bared his fangs, which were as big and deadly looking as the Sidheagin’s teeth.
Next, he lifted his left arm and spoke a phrase in a foreign language. A small rain cloud appeared, and then a mount materialized in the midst of the murky green water.
His mount was a zombie saber-toothed tiger with titanium fangs. Inside the parts of the visible skeleton, flashes of colored lightning flashed, casting purplish shadows to the ground.
The beast growled, showed its teeth, and walked up to Dale, who froze. But the cat only wanted to lick his face. Dale laughed while the feline’s undead tongue worked up and down.
The Sagittalian avatar spoke to the beast in a language that Dale couldn’t understand, and it curled up like a house cat at Dale’s feet. Its purring caused vibrations to shake the table.
Next, a meerkat battle pet appeared.
“Awesome pet,” Dale said.
Smith spoke again and returned to human form. The mount and pet dissolved in a flash of purple and blue light.
“Thanks. I figured you’d like him,” Smith said. “He’s more of a scout than a tank. In battles, I use a different pet. I didn’t want to summon him here because he’s nearly impossible to control. A crococonda and, well, we’ve had a few accidents.”
“What the hell is all this commotion out here?” someone shouted angrily from the other end of the room.
Dale looked up; it was Lieutenant Brinkmann. “Sir!” he said.
“Corporal Brown,” the lieutenant asked. “are you responsible for all this showing off?”
“Sorry, sir,” Smith said.
“Mounts and pets don’t belong in the mess hall. Don’t do it again. This isn’t a fucking zoo! I’m hunting for Sergeant Dyfrig.”
“Here, sir,” Dyfrig said. He stood and saluted.
“I’m assigned to the Third Platoon,” the officer said. “I’m your new LT.”
Dyfrig put his hand out. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Platoon,” he said, “we have a lot to go over. Our ship date is going to hit faster than you realize. I need you all in room seventeen B tomorrow at oh five hundred for a briefing.”
“Sir!” Dyfrig said. After the lieutenant left, Dyfrig told Dale to meet him in the library in an hour so he could help him study the races, guilds, and classes.
“Can Smith come as well?” Dale asked. “I’d like his opinion.”
“Up to you, Corporal,” Dyfrig said. He finished his grubs and walked off.
After the lizard-man was out of sight, the woman who used the Sidheagin avatar came to their table. She smiled. “I’m Amy.”
“Hi, I’m Dale. Dale Brown. Corporal…oh, I’m…oh…this is Sam – Private Smith. Or just Smith. Um, it’s nice to meet you,” he said. He stood to shake her hand and tripped over his feet.
“You’re both in the third?” she asked, ignoring his gaff.
“Yeah,” Dale said. “What about you?”
“Third as well. I’ll be right there watching your backs,” she answered.
“You’re an enchantress, too?” Tom asked. “You can watch my back anytime.”
“God,” Galina said. “Can you give the females of the species some breathing room?”
“I don’t mind,” Kim said. She smiled and then blushed and looked down.
“My personal guild is Druantia, yes,” Amy said. “I’m a healer when I need to be, but I mostly enjoy destroying things. May I?” she asked, pointing to the seat next to Dale.
“Of course,” he said.
They talked for forty minutes. Time went so quickly that he was surprised when Smith stood and said they had only twenty minutes before they were due in the library.
“You don’t have your race or class picked yet?” Amy asked.
“No,” he answered. “For my personal guild, I’m going with Nojus. That’s an easy decision.”
“You have your professional and personal guild picked, so it’s just race and class you have to figure out. Stay away from Ningishzida. They’re a dirty race.”
“You seem so…”
“I’m not a racist. This is different. The lizards plunged us into war, and they eat bugs. You saw that yourself. Try not to become too close to your sergeant friend. You have to follow his orders. You have to fight with him. I get that we’re in the same faction, so fine. But you don’t have to actually like him.”
“He’s not so bad–”
“Lizards lie. They’re like the Naphil, and you can’t trust them. They may pretend to like you, but when personal objectives get into their sights, they’ll run you over. Trust me on this,” she said emphatically.
“I’ll think about it,” Dale said. “Hey, I’ve got to run. I’m off to the–”
“The library, I heard. Just think about what I told you,” Amy said. “And let’s hang out again sometime.” Not waiting for an answer, she stood and walked away.
Dale caught her looking back once, briefly, with a pretty smile on her face.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Yet even the great whales are sometimes eaten by orcas.
~ Iyam Amak
Meanwhile, on the planet Almaach…
Because every war must have two sides, and for every death, there must be one who kills, a mighty leader arrived as part of the Declanian faction.
Iyam Amak, Lord Commander of the Fourteenth Division of the Declanian Armed Forces.
“My lord,” one of several admirals said as she entered her war room in the center of a fortified castle near the shores of a vast sea.
“Commander,” the ranking admiral said, “we await your orders.”
“Prepare for the escalation of this war, Admiral,” she replied. “I suspect we’ll be here for a very long time.”
“Yes, my lord,” he said with a formal bow.
“I understand the roasted razordillo here is sweet and tender,” Amak said. She walked toward a huge picture window that offered a magnificent view of the cerulean blue ocean.
“My lord,” the admiral replied.
“Bring me a feast,” she commanded. “I’d like it raw and bloody. Served with local bread. They do make bread here, Admiral?” She glanced back at him, then returned to the view out the window. “It is gorgeous here.”
“Yes, my lord. The land is filled with beauty and betrayal, almost like being at home. The bread is excellent, and the butter is the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“Do not become weak, Admiral,” she said softly, almost as a threat. She pointed at an island with a single mountain that was tall enough to be snowcapped. “Is that direction north?”
“It is,” he answered. “Due north from where you stand.”
“You may all leave me now,” she said to the group.
The highest-ranking admiral bowed, and the others followed him to the door.
“And, Admiral,” Amak said.
“Yes, my lord?” he asked.
“My first priority is spies,” she stated. “I’
ve come to believe that information…never mind, Admiral. Don’t let me bore you with my philosophy on warfare. I need forty soldiers. Dumb ones.”
“Commander?”
“Dumb ones. But arrogant. The more arrogant, the better.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Provide me with fools who believe themselves wise – we’ll be creating a team of incompetent spies.”
“Yes, Lord Commander,” the admiral said. But he didn’t move, and in a rare display of courage, he asked, “May I ask why, my lord?”
She displayed a smile for the first time that day. “What is the best way to hide the one true religion?”
“Create many false gods and cults, my lord.”
“Exactly. Find me a group of overconfident fools. Preferably religious ones, Admiral. True believers.”
“That will not be hard, my lord,” the admiral said. He smiled as well.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rhith Coin is to bitcoin like a Rhith Jet is to a unicycle.
~ Platus Guild President Joon Kim
Dale entered the library and found Dyfrig.
“Hey, Sergeant Dyfrig,” he said as he sat. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“We’re friends, right?”
“Of course,” the sergeant said.
“Do you think this war thing, whatever the government is doing, is more important than your personal objectives? I mean, like, you know, getting loot and stuff?” Dale asked.
“And maybe meeting a special–”
“Yes. I mean, I’m not a huge role player, but, still, a little RP never hurt anyone.” Dale blushed.
“Of course,” Dyfrig said. “But it’s the war, or the potential of war, that drives things. If we lose the war, what good is gold? What good is a girlfriend?”
“Are you saying that this thing could be that big?”
“Dale, you’re always trying to crack this nut. What’s wrong? I mean really…what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Dale stated.
“I don’t believe you,” the lizard said. “But you have to decide what to share with other people, of course. If you ever want to talk, you can ask me.”
“Thank you,” Dale said.
“Hey,” Smith said. “Sorry I’m late. What’s the plan?”
“We’re helping Dale figure out his shit,” Dyfrig said.
“Okay,” Smith said. “I’ll start explaining things; you stop me when you’ve heard enough.”
“Go,” Dale said.
“Let’s start with classes,” Smith said.
“Okay.”
“There are four categories with two classes each, for a total of eight. The main four are the opposites, magic-tech, and politics-mystery. In magic, you have the class Magisk and the class Sann. These two are opposites as well.”
Dyfrig jumped in. “Magisk specializes in spell casting, which are the destructive spells, chants, charms, and so forth. This is good for DPS, obviously. The Sann class is about enchantments, healing arts, protection charms, and healing in battles.”
“That’s right,” Smith said. “In the tech category, there are also two opposites: Thorild and Edificios. The Thorild are the warriors and soldiers and specialize in killing. The Edificios are craftsmen. They build, restore, create. Like someone that enjoys that old game…where people build stuff?”
“You mean like one of those old world-building games?” Dale asked.
“It was a world where you had to start out–”
“Minecraft,” Dyfrig said.
“Yeah, Minecraft,” Smith agreed. “You’ve seen that?”
“Sure,” Dale said. “I’ve checked out all the old games. But let’s go back to this Edificios class. Is that for people who want to build a zoo or something?”
“Yes,” Smith said. “But remember, you’re in Unit Nineteen, which gets its charter from Kartikeya, the warrior-soldier guild. They’re going to pressure you to choose Thorild because the buffs and extras you get will help with the war effort.”
“Shit,” Dale said. “There’s so much to choose from.”
“Remember, you can do everything from any avatar: tank, DPS, heal, craft, build zoos…it’s just a lot easier, or harder, depending on your race and class,” Smith said.
“I get that,” Dale said. “I just don’t want to make a dumb choice.”
“The next set of classes are the Lysanderian and the Politicos, which are opposites again. The first being the anarchist class, and the second the government class. If you want to get into guild leadership, being a Politico is helpful. If you want to be a chaos creator or an insurgent, then Lysanderian is better. The Politicos represent control; the anarchists represent freedom and liberty.”
“I’m a Lysanderian, by the way,” Dyfrig said.
“The last category is the intellectual category, with Sepehr and Rigzin,” Smith continued. “The Sepehr class is a religious class. If you pick the Isca race, you’re going to be worshipping the Inca gods, so you’ll want to consider Sepehr as your class. The Rigzin represent philosophy. They’re good at solving mysteries, which I suppose would help if you’re going to go on lore quests and want to work on overall war strategies.”
“Like whether we should even be fighting this war?” Dale asked.
“Don’t speak of such things here,” Dyfrig said. “You’ll gain unwanted attention if you start sounding like a Troth.”
Dale frowned.
“Okay, Dale,” Smith said. “Those are the eight classes you need to consider. Got it?”
“I’ll have to think on this for a bit.” Dale wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. “Maybe you can talk more about the guilds. That’ll probably help me.”
“You’re going to have to study them,” Sergeant Dyfrig said.
“I know, but maybe you and Smith can give me the basics? To, you know, get me started.”
“Alright,” Smith said. “There are twenty-one guilds. Each one supplies a certain level of help in the form of buffs, upgrades, bonuses, and other perks. I’m sure that it’s like something you’re already familiar with. The difference you have to remember is that you have a professional guild and a personal guild. Like all wars, this one has the potential to go on and on. So what you pick for your personal time is important too.”
“I’m going with Nojus for sure,” Dale said.
“I thought so. I’ll give you a recommendation if you want to join my troop,” Smith said.
“How big is it?”
“We have over six thousand.”
“That’s pretty awesome.”
“We have a co-op for our guild, every first capture of an animal is given to the guild. We have plans to build a zoo someday.”
“Awesome,” Dale said. “So, about the professional guild? Do I have to join Kartikeya?”
“Unit Nineteen is under a Kartikeya guild charter. So yes, you have to join Kartikeya unless you have some special reason not to, like you’re a skilled assassin.”
“You’ll figure this out, Dale,” Dyfrig said. “Think about the things you like to do best, then choose accordingly.”
“Easy to say…”
“It does get a little overwhelming,” Smith said. “You can join a guild that is working on weapon advancement, like Hephaestus. Or the Ymir, which is a mining guild, or the banking guild, Platus. They handle all the coin and gold transfers, for instance–”
“Wait,” Dale interrupted. “You’re not saying people can pay for victories?”
“Not at all,” Smith said. “The creators are geniuses and fair. You can only level up and get more powerful shit by earning it. That’s the only way–”
“But you can get tons of flair and cool mounts and stuff if you accumulate gold and Rhith Coins,” Dyfrig said. “Basically, it’s for chasing women. Or men. Depending on your taste.”
Smith smirked. “Lots of options.”
“Especially if you’re a Ningishzida,” Dyfrig said. “We’re hermaphrodites.”
/> Dale blushed. “I had this experience with Captain Redding–”
“Woo-hoo,” Smith said. He raised his hand for a high five.
Dale felt weird. “I don’t really know what happened.”
“You’d better keep quiet about it,” Dyfrig said. “She’s the captain of Bravo Company. So keep your head down.”
“Right,” Dale said.
“Let’s talk about her race, the Naphil,” Smith said. “Everyone believes they’re sneaky and untrustworthy.”
“Is that so, Private Smith?” Captain Redding asked. She’d been standing within hearing distance for their entire conversation about her.
Dale’s face reddened.
“Sir!” Smith said. He stood. “I’m just explaining basic Nagant literature. It’s in the books, sir.”
“At ease, Smith,” she said. “I’m not here to bust your balls. I’m looking for Dyfrig.”
“Yes, sir!” The reptile stood at attention.
“Sergeant, follow me. We’ve got orders to move up the launch date. Smith, Brown, get your shit in order. We ship out in three days,” she said.
“Yes, sir,” Dale and Smith replied.
“Dale, if I were you, I’d stay clear of the Naphil. Join the Sagittalian like your friend. We can always use another good tank. Or perhaps you could go full-on destruction and join the Asakku.” She laughed as she walked away.
Dyfrig followed right behind her like a pet.
After they were out of hearing range, Dale asked Smith about the Asakku.
“They’re the darkest and evilest race,” Smith answered. “Demons is what some people say. They’re scary looking. I think Captain Redding was joking.”
“I agree,” Dale said. “So what else?”
“We have twenty races–”
“What? That’s twenty races and how many guilds?”
“There are twenty-one guilds, and rumors that more are coming. So twenty-one guilds, twenty races, and eight classes.”
“That’s…”
Dale: Ërin, can you run the math?
Ërin: Three thousand three hundred and sixty combinations.
