The Hobgoblin Riot: Dominion of Blades Book 2: A LitRPG Adventure

by Matt Dinniman

  I sat at the bar and ordered a coffee since the game wouldn’t serve me alcohol. I asked about food, but nothing would be available until dinnertime. It wasn’t quite 11 A.M. yet. As I sipped the deliciously-black drink, I eyed the innkeeper. He was a scruffy man with bags under his eyes.

  “You look like my daughter,” he said. “What’s a little girl like you keeping such rough company?”

  I shrugged. I pulled out a cigarette from my stash and lit it. Sometimes NPCs would acknowledge my age. Sometimes they’d treat me like they would any other adventurer. “Not many customers recently, huh?” I asked.

  “No, ma’am,” he said. “Been quite the dry spell. It’s been like this for a while now. Once a month, for a time, the streets would fill with the white jackets. They’d drink their fill before going on a raid, but even that has stopped, ever since they abandoned their castle.”

  “Wait, the white jackets left?” I asked. “Where did they go?”

  “They went into the spiral and never came out. The remainder of the garrison, including that scary commander of theirs, came looking for them. They went into the maze and never came out either.”

  This was very strange. NPC guards were always getting themselves killed in this game, but they’d always regenerate. If they hadn’t regenerated, what did that mean?

  “How long ago was this?”

  The man scratched his beard. “Let me see here. I reckon it was right about the time that raiding party returned from over the ocean. The hobgoblins smashed their way through town, causing an awful mess. It took us a week to rebuild. And once the rebuilding was done, the white jackets went in and never came out.”

  Quest update. Missing Maps.

  Soon after the hobgoblin raiding party returned from Aberdeen with Sandra the Learnt, white jacket soldiers of the king entered the spiral in hot pursuit, but they never returned. A larger, second group followed and also disappeared. Proceed to the white jacket stronghold and look for clues.

  I missed having Jonah and Gretchen with me to bounce ideas off of. Despite having a large party, I’d never felt this alone in my life. The loneliness came on me suddenly and unexpectedly with the quest notification, and I wasn’t sure why.

  “Have the hobgoblins done anything else weird lately?” I asked.

  The innkeeper’s eyes went glassy for a moment.

  “Yes,” he said. “Thousands upon thousands of them marched away from the city. It seemed as if it was all the hobgoblin warriors in the world. The lines of them marched past for what seemed like days. It appeared they were destined for war. I heard they entered a giant portal that led them across the ocean and are now pillaging their way toward Harmony. A few weeks later, even more left the city, perhaps reinforcements. If any hobgoblins remain in Castellane, there can’t be too many.”

  “Hmm,” I said, thinking hard.

  I needed more information. The quest said we had to go to the white jacket headquarters, which was right by our portal. But first we needed to hire some more bodies. I had a ton of jacks burning a hole in my pouch, and I intended on spending them.

  Popper Note 5

  I was worried the mercenary markets would be barren, but I needn’t have. Bingo, Granger, and I set out on our mission to hire a crew. I wasn’t fully convinced we needed to hire a huge crew to run the spiral, but I decided we’d better. The first leg of the 25-mile run was fairly tame, but I didn’t want to be surprised.

  I left Alice in the stables and everyone else in the pub with explicit orders to behave themselves. Bingo threatened to twist the arm off of anyone who disobeyed me. The market stood only one block over. We rounded the corner and came upon the long street, bustling and buzzing with activity. I sighed with relief.

  The market was a mix of open-air mercenary arcades and large union halls for more specialized classes. While the market was large, it was far from the biggest of such places in the game. Players would often hire tanks to surround themselves for the spiral run, but not much more than that. The towns outside the labyrinth dungeons of Tigrera and Baluza had much larger markets. Those dungeons were for more serious players in search of deep, arcane loot. Running the spiral was similar to storming the beach in the Blast quest. It was more of an attraction, a roller coaster ride. People didn’t need to hire NPCs for that, as it was mostly a waste of money. Except in rare circumstances, you were going to die anyway. A whole army of mercenaries wasn’t going to stop that.

  The warrior arcade took up the entire north side of the street. Massive, armored fighters encased in steel milled about, talking with each other, sparing in fighting pits while NPCs looked on and shouted encouragement. The whole street stank of sweat and metal and testosterone.

  “Okay,” I said to Bingo and Granger. “We need to find some plain-old cannon fodder, front-line tanks. Then some archers, and I will try to find a mage. Also, if we can find some of those…what the hell did you call them?”

  “Sappers. Combat engineers,” Bingo said.

  “Yeah, some of those,” I said, “We probably won’t need them, but I might pick a couple up if they’re not too expensive. Remember, we can hire 19 more NP… err, mercenaries. I want eight of them to be damage takers, six or seven of them to be archers, at least one but hopefully two of them—if we can afford it—to be magic users, and of those, one of them has to be a decent healer and magic defender. That leaves three or four spots, depending on our mage situation. We’ll try to find a squad of these sappers.”

  “Very well,” Bingo said. “Where do we start?”

  “I want you to go over there,” I said, pointing toward the wide, north side of the street, “and scope it out for me. See if there are any fighters you think will be suitable. Granger, you go with him and check out the archers. Meanwhile, I’ll be over there.” I nodded to an ornate, black building on the south side of the market. The gaudy railings leading up to the massive door appeared to be wrought out of solid gold. I sighed. This game, for whatever reason, made magic-using NPCs insanely expensive. Their personalities usually matched their high price tags. And this garish building was the one and only place to hire a mage in this city.

  I left the others and approached the building, pushing my way through the double doors into the brightly-lit room. I felt a quick buzz of electricity course through me as several protection and identification spells and charms determined if I would be allowed to enter the room. About forty pairs of eyes turned to face me.

  Entering the Mages For Hire Union Hall.

  You’ve been grappled! You may not wield a weapon in this location.

  You’ve been muzzled! You may speak, but you may not cast spells in this location.

  You’ve been obstructed! Your magic items will not work in this location.

  I felt the dexterity bonus from my watch and the strength from my necklace leave me. I shivered.

  I examined the crowd. Most of them were either human or auric, both the dark-skinned moon aurics and the pale, albino-like common aurics. A smattering of most of the other common mage races filled corners of the large room. Polecats and rodders, a pair of goblins, and even a texugo sat staring at me. A pair of dwarves stood with a group of humans. I didn’t see any half-ogres, though that wasn’t too unusual. I didn’t see any emo-tong, either, which was unusual, as their high defense and magic ability made them perfect for this sort of thing. The emo-tong had abandoned Harmony. Had they also abandoned the rest of the Dominion?

  I also was surprised to see a single astound sitting by himself in one corner. The large rock golems were a playable race only in the earliest versions of this game, and they’d gotten rid of them long before the most current incarnation of Dominion of Blades. The massive rock creatures could still be found throughout the world as NPCs, mostly in places where one would expect to find giant, eight-foot-tall rock giants.

  “Are you lost, little girl?” a human asked. He was a tall man, appearing to be about 35 years old. The guy looked like he was taken straight out of central casting for a rich,
blonde-haired, blue-eyed 80’s movie bad guy. All he needed was a cardigan tied around his shoulders to complete the look. He had that smug, I’m-a-mage-so-I’m-better-than-you smirk on his face. It was the same look those assholes whose parents bought them BMWs in high school and paid lawyers to get them out of date rape charges had. I imagined the guy’s name was Brock or Winthrop. I had an instant, visceral dislike to him.

  “I’m looking to hire a mage, possibly two,” I said, raising my voice so the entire room could hear. “I need a good offensive mage but someone who is also adept at Magic Shield and Group Heal. Preferably someone who can also cast Antidote and Anti-Paralysis as well.”

  “You’re in the wrong place, kid,” the man said. Jesus, even his voice irritated me. “If you want all those, you need either a light cleric or a druid.”

  “I already have a druid,” I said. “I’m looking for a mage who can also cast all of those.”

  “I can do all that,” an auric said from a table near the back of the room. He stood and approached.

  “It doesn’t work that way,” the human said, holding up his hand. The auric stopped. “You see, in this hall we have rules. If someone comes and wants to hire a mage, they need to hire the person at the front of the line. And I’m the guy at the front of the line.” A low murmuring rose in the room.

  I would rather pull my own kidney out with a spork than have this guy in my party. “Listen, what’s your name?”

  The human mage smirked and stood a little straighter. “My name is—”

  “Actually, I don’t care what your name is. I’m just going to call you Asshole McFuckface. How’s that?”

  Rage flashed across the man’s face. “No, you listen here, child. You—”

  “Shut up,” I said. I turned to the auric, who stood uncertainly, looking back and forth between me and Asshole McFuckface. “How much do you charge?”

  “Okay, kid, if you’re not going to follow the rules, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Asshole McFuckface said.

  “What’re you going to do? Make me?” I said. “You and I both know you can’t cast magic in here. I have been hiring mercenaries for years, and I’ve never seen such a stupid rule. It doesn’t even make sense. All of you guys have different abilities. You know what I think? I think you guys have been sitting here so long waiting for someone to come in here that your little hamster wheel of a brain came up with this ridiculous system knowing that you’d be the first to be hired. Well guess what? I’m not playing that game.”

  I pointed toward the auric. “You interested? I can’t guarantee you job security, but it will be glorious.”

  The auric looked over his shoulder at the others then nodded. “I am normally 30,000 jacks a day. But for you, I will charge 21,000.”

  “Make it 18,000, and I’ll hire you right now for a guaranteed two days.”

  Your Mercenary Negotiating skill has risen from 3 to 4.

  “Done,” the auric said.

  “No,” Asshole McFuckface said, stomping his foot so hard it sounded like a gunshot. “No, no, no! Don’t you accept, Nale. Guard! Guard!”

  “Oh gods, Pritford. Why do you wail so much?” A new voice said. It came from the astound, who turned out to be female. She stood to her full eight feet, shorter than Bingo but a bit larger than a half-ogre. “Leave the kid alone. And let Nale take the gig. He’s been waiting just as long as you.”

  Pritford? What kind of stupid name was that?

  Quest Update.

  …

  Please Wait…

  Quest Update. Missing Maps. An unusual mage has appeared in the Mages For Hire Union Hall. Hire the astound to find how she might be important.

  I looked over at the rock creature, astonished at the sudden and unexpected notification.

  Before I could puzzle out the weird error message, Pritford stormed up to me and put his hand on my shoulder, as if preventing me from leaving. I tried to shoulder away, but his grip was iron strong. “I don’t even think this child should be allowed to wander around on her own! Where is that lazy guard? Guard!”

  “What the hell, dude? Let go of me!” I said.

  A dwarf carrying a spiked club yawned as he ambled into the room. He was an older dwarf with a bald head. He reminded me of a grumpier and fatter Hemshin from Icardi. The fact the dwarf carried a weapon suggested he was immune to the spells protecting this place. “Pritford, what is it this time?” the guard asked. He paused at the sight of me. “What’s this?”

  “We have an intruder,” Asshole McFuckface aka Pritford said. “This child wandered in from the street and won’t leave.”

  “Where’s your mommy, little girl?” the guard asked, leaning forward.

  “My mommy was eaten by ice spiders,” I said. “I am here to hire a mage with very specific skills, but pignut here won’t let me.”

  Pritford still clutched my shoulder, and he tightened his grip.

  “You got money?” the guard asked.

  I nodded.

  The guard turned to Pritford. “It appears she’s a client.”

  Pritford stood straighter. “Tell her she must hire the next in line, or she can’t hire anyone at all.”

  The guard cleared his throat. “Well,” he huffed. “Little miss. We got rules, you see.”

  “Fuck that,” I said. “First off, I wouldn’t hire this jackhole even if he was a water mage and my ass was on fire. Second, I need specific skills. Skills that this guy,” I pointed to the auric, “has. What was your name? Nale?”

  “Yes,” Nale said.

  “I want him. And I want her, too.” I pointed to the astound.

  “What?” Pritford squeaked. “Her? Well, you can’t take her. The astound shouldn’t even be here! She’s at the very end of the line. She’s the reason we came up with these rules in the first place. She barely got here. Hasn’t even barely waited, not like the rest of us.”

  “How long ago did she get here?” I asked, intrigued.

  Pritford ignored my question, but he continued to rant. “She’s not even a mage. She’s a rock singer. A gravel thaumaturge. Worse than a hedge wizard. Once my father returns, I’m certain he’ll kick her out. He’ll be back any day now. When he returns, he’ll set things right.”

  I’d never heard of a rock singer before.

  “What does a rock singer do?” I asked the astound.

  “I sing to rocks,” the astound said. “I sing to them, and they dance for me.”

  “So you can move rocks?”

  “Stop talking!” Pritford said, his voice raising an octave. “You deal with me!”

  I turned to the guard. “Man, I just want to hire a couple mages. Can you get this guy out of my face?”

  “Technically,” the guard said with a heavy sigh, “Pritford is in command. His father is the union master here, but he’s out on a quest, and he left Pritford in charge. He makes the rules.”

  I had an idea. “Oh all right,” I said. “What if I hire all three of you? Will that work?”

  Pritford beamed. The man trembled with excitement. “This is highly unusual. Neither the auric nor the astound are next in line after me. But I suppose I can make an exception. Very well. Now, I charge 85,000 jacks a day. That plus the 18,000 you already negotiated—”

  “No,” I said, interrupting. “I will pay 35,000 a day for all three of you.” I looked at the astound and the auric. “Is that okay with you?”

  The large rock monster shrugged. After a moment, the auric also nodded.

  Pritford sputtered. “35,000 for all three of us? Surely you jest! I am a fire mage. Do you know how valuable that is? My skills alone are worth…”

  “30,000 a day,” I said.

  Your Mercenary Negotiating skill has risen from 4 to 5.

  The guard laughed.

  “You want to leave this room?” I said. “I know how long you’ve been sitting here waiting. And you know what? The moment I leave, you’re never going
to see another customer again. This is your only chance. Take the deal, or don’t. If you don’t, I’m going to walk out of here and just hire some druids or clerics. And every second you wait, the amount I’m going to give you goes down by a thousand. Now I’m at 29,000. Now it’s 28,000.”

  “Okay, okay,” Pritford said. “Deal.”

  I sent out party invites.

  NPC Pritford (Level 44, Fire Mage, Human) has joined the party.

  NPC Nale (Level 67, Arcanist, Auric) has joined the party.

  NPC Spritz (Level 1, Rock Singer, Astound) has joined the party.

  “Level 1? Weird.” I asked. What the hell was this thing? I looked over the spells she could cast, and I didn’t recognize a single one of them. Rock Hound? Rolling Stone? I’d have to spend some time later figuring out what she could do. And what did that have to do with Sandra the Learnt?

  As for the auric, I should have known he was an arcanist. What other mage specialty could possibly know all those spells? Arcanists, experts in the study of magic itself, could learn and cast almost every possible spell, but the spells were something like 20 to 50% less effective. It sounded cool, but it was a stupid class. All the arcanists I’d ever met were underpowered cannon fodder whose shitty protection spells would shatter the moment someone sneezed on them. Thankfully this guy had a decent level which would offset some of that.

  But all of that had to wait. I made a cursory examination of Pritford’s skills.

  He appeared to be a powerful fire mage. He could cast Fireball and Raining Blood, both of which were badass spells, especially Raining Blood. I sighed. Oh well.

  I opened the party menu and scrolled to the NPC screen. The system had allocated 27,900 jacks a day to Pritford, 95 a day to Nale the auric, and five a day to Spritz the astound.

  “Did you guys agree to this payment split?” I asked, surprised.

  Nale frowned. He did not look pleased. “It matters not. The union gets the entirety of one’s first assignment.”