“Raj? Why?” Popper asked.
“One, to keep him out of my hair. And two, if you’re going to be snooping, looking for clues, he’s perfect. One night running around, and he’ll know everything there is to know about whatever is going on in an area.”
“But what if he gets hurt?” Popper asked.
I sighed. “If Raj dies, I’ll make Keta throw a Portal to Valisa to get him back.”
“Oh all right,” Popper said, “I’ll need to hire a couple tanks, some ranged NPCs, a healer, a few warriors, and at least one mage. That won’t be cheap.”
“If you do go in there, don’t go past the first castle,” Gretchen said. “The hobgoblin oracle sits on the throne there, and she’s probably a pretty good source of information. With your charisma, you might get something out of her.”
Popper nodded. “I’m thinking the same thing. I could probably get that far with a small party. Past that, there’s no way.”
“Oracle?” I asked.
“She’s like the aunt or sister of the old, dead chief Ichichi,” Gretchen said. “She lives in the first major waypoint castle, which protects the Sentinel Tower. It’s the location of the Eiffel Tower. It’s the tallest thing in the city. I read once it was originally the same shape as the Eiffel Tower, but they got sued by the owners of the tower’s trademark, and they had to change it. Same thing happened here with the Space Needle. Anyway, most people just skip the first castle. The castles are on the spiral path, but you don’t have to go in them except one of them. Think of them as side quests. So people skip them usually. Inside are a bunch of weird goblin attendants, and the oracle sits in the main room on a big couch. If you can get to her, she’ll tell you the whole backstory of the Hobgoblin Riot and how they ended up there in Castellane. It’s a pretty interesting tale.”
“The one time we went into the castle,” Popper added, “We tried killing the oracle, and she trounced our asses. She’s a powerful boss.”
“Yeah,” Gretchen said. “If you kill her, you get the key that leads to the top of the Sentinel Tower. It’s basically a sniper’s nest where three hobgoblins fire a magical ballista at you the entire time you’re in its sights. It fires slow, but it kills everything it hits. It’s usually not worth it to waste time taking the tower out, especially if you’re in a huge party.”
“But you think it’s worth talking to the oracle?” I asked.
Popper grunted. “Who knows. But she’s friendly as long as you don’t attack her.”
“So to confirm, you can just turn around and go home after entering the spiral?” I asked. “You’re not committed once you go in?”
“Correct,” Gretchen said. “Not everybody who enters goes in to run the whole thing. There are lots of nooks and crannies hidden in there. There’s a few hidden guild halls, for example. There are six castles along the way, and each one has stuff inside. You can only enter the spiral once every four hours, but you can leave anytime. Also, everyone gets kicked out two times a week. A game guide named Rochus shows up and casts a Purge spell that sucks everyone out, so even if Popper gets stuck somewhere, he can always wait it out.”
“It’s too bad you can’t control the white jackets outside of Aberdeen,” Popper said. “There’s a garrison there near the entrance. I bet I could run the whole thing with a garrison of white jackets.”
“Yeah,” I said drily. “Don’t remind me. Maybe if I come see them face-to-face I can pull it off. We’ll try it if I do end up over there.”
Alice marched into the great room, a triumphant look on her face.
“He’s making me a pie,” she announced.
“Okay,” I said to Popper. “Let’s have you check it out, but not past that first castle. We won’t know unless we look, right? Hire some NPCs to bring along. If it turns out it’s doable, keep the mercs on the payroll, and we’ll come join you.”
“And don’t forget to bring Alice,” Alice said.
“Yeah,” I said, patting the hippocorn on the head. “And don’t forget to bring Alice.”
“I’ll do it,” Popper said. I could tell he was more excited than he let on. “But we gotta agree now. If I go, and it turns out solving this quest or getting to the warlord is impossible, I want your word. We pack up our shit and run before it’s too late.” He held out his small hand for me to shake.
I took his hand, resigned. “Okay, it’s a deal. But you gotta promise me something, too. Two things, actually”
“What’s that?”
I pointed to my ever-present notebook on the table next to me. “I want your entire account written down.”
“Oh all right,” he said. “If I get the time. And what’s number two?”
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
He looked aghast. “I would never.”
Popper Note 1
Fuck you, Jonah. Three words in, and my hand is cramping already. This is bullshit.
My name is Elijah. My in-game name is Poppy, but don’t call me that unless you want an axe to the knee. Everyone here calls me Popper. In the real world, I’m a 43-year-old man from Pittsburgh. I am six foot two inches tall, and I weigh about 240 pounds. I have a beard. I have a hairy chest and big, meaty arms. I have a tattoo on my left arm of a grim reaper riding a springer. On my right is a tattoo portrait of my daughter, Molly. The tattoo didn’t come out that great, but that’s okay. It’s the thought that counts, right? My hands are thick and calloused from hard work. I want you to get that image in your head. When you read this shit, I want you to imagine me just like that, okay?
In this godforsaken place, I’m a 7-year-old little girl. I am blonde, and my hair is in pigtails. I try to pull the pigtails out, and they just magically reappear every time I wake up. It is maddening. My game parents were barbarians from the frozen north, but they died after their war party was killed by polar spiders or some crazy shit like that. Afterward, I was brought south to a town called Icardi in the middle of nowhere to live with my Aunt Wanda.
Wanda didn’t like me much. She worked as a barmaid at the only pub in Icardi, and I was locked in the back during her shifts. When the gnomes attacked, and they attacked like clockwork every Monday morning, she’d hide with me in the storage room. When the gnomes broke down the door, Wanda would pick me up and use me as a human shield.
But we don’t need to rehash all this old news anymore. Jonah is writing a book about our journey to Harmony. I’ll leave all the storytelling about our first few weeks here to him.
Instead, I’m going to tell you about the next few weeks of our travels, about the crazy shit that happened after Jonah took over the Dominion. I’m not the smooth wordsmith Jonah is. I can’t spell. My grammar sucks balls. My Aunt Linda once told me people curse when they speak and write because they’re too dumb to think of an appropriate word. Well let me tell you, my Aunt Linda was a bitch. She’s been dead for a millennia, and I am still here. So if you don’t like the occasional swear, I got some bad fucking news for you, pal. This is one fucked-up story, and we will need to gather up and abuse every expletive we can find to paint a proper picture of our disaster of a mission to save Sandra the Learnt from the Hobgoblin Riot.
Hold on to your hats, friends.
Popper Note 2
“This place is scary,” Alice said.
The games of the coliseum were put on hiatus for a month to mourn the loss of King Bartholomew. Larus, the acting steward, claimed there would be a great celebration in Jonah’s honor in a few weeks here in the same place. But for now, the halls underneath the coliseum were abandoned.
“This reminds Raj of the gorgon place,” Raj said. The little polecat rode behind me on Alice’s back. He trembled.
Indeed, the wide, empty room with regular columns did feel like a sewer. It smelled of must and animals. From what I’d gathered, it was supposed to be filled with cages. Where was everything?
“You missed the place we went yesterday,” I said. “Trust me, little man. This place is much better.”
I p
ulled up my minimap and looked for signs of life. At the far end of the room, a group of white dots appeared to be gathered in a circle. I headed toward them.
The three gorcupines sat at a round, stone table, and it appeared as if they were playing cards with a group of three humans, a pair of half-ogres, and a small rodder. All nine looked up as we approached.
“Princess Poppy,” the rodder said, jumping down from the table. The mouse-like creature seemed both surprised and embarrassed. “What are you doing here?”
I recognized the rodder as the one who manned the sign-up booth for the coliseum battles.
“Where are all the animal cages?” I asked. I hopped off Alice’s back and approached the table. It appeared they were playing Texas hold ‘em. Based on the piles of jacks in front of each player, it looked as if the largest of the gorcupines was winning.
One of the half-ogres grunted. He wore a shirt that read “Beast Handler’s Union 344.” “We set them free. No use keeping them here until the games start up again.”
The cages were filled with extremely-dangerous monsters from all over the world, from nagas to flying, scorpion-tailed pazuzu. “You set them free where?”
The two half-ogres looked at each other. “Oh, here and there,” the other one said.
“Where are the chinchillas?” Alice asked.
The half-ogre pointed up. “They’re up on the field. They keep the grass nice and cut. They don’t hurt nothing. Good security, too.”
Two of the three humans glared at me with open hostility. These were big, mean-looking men, covered in scars and tattoos. I didn’t know who they were, but I noticed their legs were shackled. I hadn’t come here for them. Instead, I turned to the three gorcupines.
“You’re Bingo, right?” I asked, indicating the largest of the three half-gorilla, half-porcupine monsters. The monster was absolutely huge, much bigger than a real-life gorilla. His spikes were flat against his back, in a resting pose, but I knew in battle he flared them out. Jonah and Gretchen had fought him and one of the others in the tournament. Alice and I had been killed in the previous round and didn’t get a chance to face them.
He stood to his full height. Alice took a step back. Raj whimpered.
“I know who you are,” Bingo said. His voice was a deep bass that commanded attention. “You are the warrior princess Poppy. I hope one day for the honor to kill you in battle.”
I’m pretty sure if I could’ve, I would’ve peed a little at that moment.
“Err, actually I’m here to talk to you. I was wondering if you’d like the opportunity to fight outside of the arena.”
What was that? Uncertainty?
“Would I be fighting alongside the king?”
“No, but it is on his orders. He has a special mission for me, and I’m putting a party together. I was hoping to hire your team. You and the other two of your kind.”
“What about us?” one of the three men asked. This man was bald with what looked like a tattoo of a ninja throwing star on his forehead. “You got room for us?”
“No,” I said. “I came here for them.”
“Stupid little bitch,” one of the other men muttered. This man had a thick, red scar down the side of his face. “We get forced to die in the arena over and over, and then they take that away and make us stay down here. We ain’t got nuttin to do but play cards with a deck that’s missing a queen and two jacks.”
I felt my eyes narrow. I knew this was a game, and I knew these were NPCs, but I also knew what type of men these were. I knew them very, very well. I remembered the list of teams from the tournament battle, and one of them was called “Death Row Cutthroats.” I knew now that’s who these guys were.
“I’m not the one who got themselves arrested,” I said. “Nor am I the one who sent you here to fight. You made your life choices. I ain’t got nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah,” Alice said.
The third of the three men had been looking down at the table most of the time, not speaking. He looked up now.
“Little girl,” he said. He was older, about fifty, with gray hair and leathery skin. The man had a sad look about him. He immediately reminded me of my father. “One of these days you’re going to realize that sometimes the consequences of this world aren’t in sync with one’s own actions. You can be a good person, or you can be a bad one, but it don’t matter one lick.”
“Shut the fuck up, Granger,” scarface said.
“What sort of party are you putting together?” Bingo asked.
I told him. I told him about the missing court cartographer, and how we knew she was in Castellane. I told him that we suspected the towers might be underpowered or completely offline.
“Why us?” Bingo asked. “This city is full of mercenaries.”
Waldo had suggested it, but I wasn’t about to explain that to him. Jonah had spent the night talking to the AI, and he’d told me about the computer’s suggestion during breakfast. “King Jonah asked for you specifically. All three of you.”
Bingo nodded. “The three of us will not be enough,” he said. “I am familiar with the hobgoblins and their tactics. If the towers are active, we will need archers and wizards and sappers.”
“What the hell is a sapper?”
“A combat engineer,” Bingo said. “They are soldiers experienced in digging and disarming traps.”
“You can’t dig in the spiral,” I said.
“You can’t dig under the walls, but you can dig in the spiral. You can dig trenches. You can dig under, around, and through the towers, which are not protected by the magic. The walls are protected; the towers are not. And you will not survive the Catacombs without an engineer, not with a small party.”
How the hell did an NPC, a random monster from the coliseum battle know so much about this sort of stuff?
“We are not going that far into the spiral. We seek the oracle in the first castle.”
Bingo seemed thoughtful. “You will still need archers and wizards in addition to my men. Plus a few more warriors and a healer.”
“So you’ll go with us? All three of you?” I asked.
“We shall go,” Bingo said. “Bring Granger as well. He is an expert with the longbow, and he is a worthy warrior. I have killed him hundreds of times, but he once put an arrow in my shoulder.”
I eyed the gray-haired human dubiously. All of the NPCs down here were unsettlingly self-aware. It made me nervous to have four of them along. They all reminded me of Yi, the moon auric who had disappeared shortly after Jonah became king.
“If Granger goes, we all go,” one of the cutthroats said. “We’re a team.”
“No,” I said. I looked at Granger. “You okay with that?”
“I am,” the man said.
I sent out party invites. The system wouldn’t let me add NPCs to the party without indicating a price. For all four of them I chose the minimum, five jacks a day. I set it up to autopay each day.
A person with a charisma of the baseline, which was ten, could hire four NPCs. They could hire an additional two for each point above that. My charisma was 17 thanks to my age bonus, which meant I could have a total of 18 NPCs in my party. With Gretchen and Jonah in the party, I could, technically, hire up to 26. Jonah, however, received a three-point debuff to his charisma whenever he picked up his sword. I wasn’t sure what would happen with that, so we’d decided not to hire more than 24 just in case. I didn’t want two of my NPCs turning on me in the middle of a battle. Alice was my pet, so she didn’t count. Raj counted as one, so with the addition of these four, it meant I could hire 19 more fighters. I intended to max it out.
NPC Bingo (Level 50, Monk, Gorcupine) has joined the party.
NPC Flaky (Level 30, Berserker, Gorcupine) has joined the party.
NPC Winston (Level 30, Berserker, Gorcupine) has joined the party.
NPC Granger (Level 35, Hunter, Human) has joined the party.
Your War Chief skill has risen from 0 to 1.
Your War Chief
skill has risen from 1 to 2.
Achievement unlocked! Hire a total of five NPCs at one time.
Great, another hunter. All four of them were a higher level than me, though I knew with NPCs, it didn’t mean as much. Two of the three gorcupines were listed as berserkers, which was a subclass of barbarian, which made them the same as me.
It didn’t surprise me that Bingo was listed as a monk. That class received a bonus when they fought with their bare hands.
“This is bullshit!” tattoo-head said. He jumped to his feet. The shackles around his ankles clattered as he strained against them.
“Sit down,” Bingo said.
“No. Fuck you, Bingo. If Granger gets to go, we should be able to go too! We’re a…”
He didn’t finish. Bingo reached forward and grabbed the man by the throat and threw him bodily to the ground. He crunched hard against the concrete. He did not get up.
An NPC member of your party has committed murder!
“Damnit, Bingo!” one of the half-ogres roared. “You know who has to clean this shit up? I’m supposed to have this week off.”
“Dude, not cool,” I said. If any guards had been around, we’d all end up in jail. That’s the last thing I needed. I could just see the disapproving glare of Gretchen as she came to bail me out. “Let’s try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum until we get out to Castellane.”
“I like that guy,” Alice whispered at me, a little too loudly.
Bingo grunted and turned toward me. “When do we leave?”
Popper Note 3
In addition to the five NPCs already in my party, I decided to hire one additional member before we left. The rest would be hired in Quibou, the city on the Dominion side of the trenches. It’s where the spiral run started, and it was where Keta intended to zap us in the morning. In the old days, Quibou was filled with open-air mercenary markets, catering to the groups fixing to run the spiral. Hopefully they’d still be there.
In the meantime, I decided we needed to get a healer. She was expensive as shit—15,000 jacks a day, many times what I was paying all the others combined. But unlike the others, she was an NPC designed to be hired by players. She’d probably spent her entire digital existence sitting at that table in the merc bar, waiting for someone to come in. I set it up so she’d be paid directly from the royal treasury.
The Hobgoblin Riot: Dominion of Blades Book 2: A LitRPG Adventure Page 11
