Dragon Kings of the New World

by Dante Doom

  “Figure it out then,” Sang said. “You’re the one in charge, so I’ll leave it to you.”

  “Thanks,” Van said. He paused and really soaked in her compliment. “No, really. Thank you for letting me lead this team. I know you’re frustrated with how much time everything is taking, so it means a lot that you’re willing to accept that we’re not moving as quickly as just the two of us could.”

  Sang shrugged. “I’ve got two options, really. I can rage against the unchangeable and drive a wedge between me, you, and the rest of my teammates, or I can just bottle all of that frustration and take it out on whatever army we’re going to be fighting.”

  Van laughed. “Good point. Come on and let me see if I can get these guys to ditch the mission.” He quickly climbed back down the ladder to see that the entire team was covered in blood.

  “What happened?” Van asked as he rushed to inspect them all. No one was dead, but they were all drenched from head to toe in blood.

  “One… one of the rat people exploded!” Sahara said. “He had some kind of bomb strapped to his stomach and, when he died, he just blew up.”

  “It was disgusting,” Kylian said.

  “Horrible in every way,” Kenwar said. Unlike the rest of the team, however, he was completely clean.

  “I dunno, that was pretty fun to me,” Capello said. “I think I look better in red anyway.”

  “Well, the good news is that we’re actually right on Melvania’s border, and this ladder is a shortcut, but taking it means we’d have to ditch the—” Van’s words were interrupted as Bidane stormed past him and began to climb up the ladder, leaving bloody hand prints with each step upwards. The rest of the team piled after her.

  “Well, that was way easier than I expected,” Van commented as he followed his team. The secret room turned out to be an abandoned tower that was fairly easy to exit. It took quite a bit of walking, but eventually they were able to make their way out of the tower and toward a stream, where the blood-drenched adventurers were then able to clean themselves up enough so that they looked presentable for the Melvanian army.

  “Alright, team!” Van said as everyone toweled off and prepared to move toward the armies by the north side of the stream. “We’re going to be talking to some very important people; the Melvanian army happens to be run by a Draco pro by the name of Captain Edwardson. The man is a living legend amongst Draco pros due to the fact that he ran one of the best gaming events in history!”

  “Yeah!” Sahara said. “He helped everyone with the Strange Invaders Event a few years ago. He was seriously one of the coolest players, and helped unify every nation to fight against the violent Strangers.”

  “Man, that was before I was in this game. Sounded like fun, though,” Kylian said. “So, what made him so great?”

  “Primarily, it was because he knew exactly how to lead an army to victory. He’d pull off crazy wins that no one had ever dreamed possible,” Van said. “So, he’s kind of an important type of guy. Draco put him in charge of Melvania’s army because they only go to war against their neighbor, Kyriss. This lets Edwardson create an exciting sense of drama and action without really conquering anything. For some reason, Draco prefers that these two nations perpetually fight. If Edwardson was running his own show, he’d probably have conquered every nation here without breaking a sweat.”

  “Nice! So, are we going to recruit him?” Capello asked.

  Van shook his head. “I’m afraid not; he’s way too much of a major player. But we are going to try and join him for a bit of time. I’m going to warn everyone now: he’s an extremely discerning type of guy. If he detects any level of smartassery or rudeness from us, he most likely won’t let us join. So, I want everyone on their best behavior—understood?”

  “Got it!” Capello said. “So, we won’t attack him unless you give the secret signal.”

  Van sighed. “No, there will be no secret signal. And we’re not trying to attack him, remember? We’re just trying to convince him to let us join his army so we can recruit people. If we pull this off, we’ll probably be able to join that massive fight today.”

  “Well, we better get going,” Sahara said, pointing to the armies. They had already begun to engage in a serious battle. It looked as if it was going to be a defensive engagement for the Melvanians, as they were busy trying to protect the bridge from the Kyrissian forces trying to push their way in. Forces on both sides of the stream were piling up, preparing for a charge.

  “Yeah, let’s move, team!” Van said as he and his group quickly made their way toward the back of the Melvanian forces. A large tent had been set up, and Van could see that there was a solid wall of guard NPCS surrounding the tents.

  Van paused and looked at Sang, who was stuffing some pieces of chicken in her bag. “How are we doing with Jet?”

  Sang shrugged, “He’s fine, I suppose. He’s getting a little bigger, but still not speaking anything coherent.”

  “Anyone ask about him?” Van asked.

  “Well, they all wanted to know if he was going to grow any time soon, but I made up a bunch of crap about missing the merchant and insufficient levels. They bought it for now,” Sang whispered. “But let’s try to keep him out of sight as long as we can.”

  “Good thinking,” Van replied as he nodded.

  “So Edwardson, he’s in there?” Sang asked.

  “Yeah, we’re going to need to appeal to him directly, so hopefully this should work,” Van said as he approached the NPCs.

  “Halt!” said one of the guards. He was wearing orange and black armor, and looked somewhat like a Halloween decoration. “This area is off-limits to those who are not members of the Melvanian army.”

  “My name is Van and I’m with the Iron Dragons Mercenary Company. We’re here to petition Captain Edwardson for the right to serve in this year’s campaign.”

  “You may enter!” the NPC said as he stepped aside. “But be warned, if you attempt anything, the entire camp will be put on high alert.”

  Van looked back at his ragged team. They were worn, exhausted, and their clothes were still heavily stained with blood, but he was most worried about their behavior. All it would take to invoke the ire of the captain would be one smartass comment, and then they’d probably be massacred.

  Van approached the tent, where he could hear a familiar voice.

  “Well, if we waste anymore time on this bridge, we’ll probably end up having to get more reinforcements from Castle Melvin. That’s going to take some time. How can we win this quickly?” asked Captain Edwardson. Van knew his voice instinctively. During the Stranger Invasion Event a few years back, every time Sleep Time had ended, every player would log in to access some kind of audio report from him. He was a dedicated role-player and a tireless worker. Van was a little thrilled to meet him, but also a bit hesitant due to the fact that Edwardson was linked to Draco. This meant he couldn’t be trusted.

  “Excuse me,” Van said as he walked into the tent. The rest of his team followed along. The tent was modestly sized, able to house a dozen soldiers. There was a big table in the center with a large map of the region ornately drawn upon it. Edwardson was standing over the map and giving instructions to a runner.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Edwardson asked as he turned to face Van. The man was in his mid-thirties, clean shaven. and had a noble air about him. He wore plate mail armor, but eschewed the traditional colors of the Melvanian armor in favor of having a simple banner emblazoned on the chest of the banner.

  “Oh, hi,” Van said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but my name is Semimodo. This here is the Iron Dragon Mercenary Company.”

  “Mercenaries?” Edwardson replied. He raised an eyebrow. “It’s rare to find mercenaries who are interested in taking work from a kingdom that exclusively fights its neighbor at any chance it gets. Most people would prefer to join a kingdom that will actually gain enough land to award some of it to those who participate in the campaign.”

  “We’
re newly formed, and we’re looking to build a reputation—not necessarily to gain land,” Van said.

  “Ah, I see. Well, I must say, I am impressed with your motley crew here. Almost a full minute of conversation and no one has uttered as much as a peep. They must be very loyal to you,” Edwardson replied as he walked up and down the ranks of the Iron Dragons, inspecting each of them.

  Van winced when he watched Edwardson get his face very close to Capello’s. But much to Van’s surprise, Capello didn’t do anything other than stand and stare blankly forward.

  “Well, why should I invite you to join my organization? You don’t seem well equipped, and you’re rancid, poorly dressed, and worst of all, I don’t see any decent levels on you. I mean, no one here is above Level 30? Not really the kind of people that I would like to join my crew.”

  “I absolutely understand your hesitancy there, sir,” Van said. “But you underestimate my people and their desire to win a fight. We can be extremely useful! Sahara is a wizard, Bidane is a cleric, and I’ve got two stealthy characters perfect for a strike team; the rest of us are useful in a fight.”

  Edwardson wrinkled his face at that. “Well, everyone is accounted for, except for you. You don’t particularly look like the kind of person who could survive a single hand-to-hand encounter, let alone an entire army.”

  “Oh, I’m a bard, so my talents lie in organizing people and leading them to win. My powers are useful for inspiring soldiers.”

  “Yes, but I’m looking at your character build and it is abysmal. Why in the hell is your Charisma only 10? Did you decide to build a character who was the anti-bard, incapable of inspiring anyone? I’m sorry, Van—while I am impressed with the make-up of your team, you’re not a particularly well put together character. This indicates that either you weren’t paying attention when you made him, or that you’re brand new to the game. Either way, I’m not interested in working with someone like you.”

  “Aw, come on, there’s got to be some way you’d let us join in,” Van said. “It’ll cost you nothing to let us be a part of your team. We’ll get the same rewards as everyone else, and you get a few more specialists on your side.”

  Captain Edwardson shook his head and walked over to the map, dropping his gaze from them and focusing only on the board. “My apologies, Van, but I’m not a man who is in the habit of repeating himself.”

  “Allow me,” Kenwar said as he strolled over to Edwardson. He leaned forward and began to whisper into the captain’s ear. Van craned his neck to listen in on their conversation, but he couldn’t hear them. After a few moments, Edwardson turned to face the team.

  “Apparently, this colleague speaks very highly of you all. He would wholeheartedly recommend that I take your team aboard, despite the fact that you don’t meet my normal requirements. The testimony of a professional player is quite highly regarded around these parts, though... Don’t make Mr. Kenwar regret his decision.”

  “So, we’re in?” Van asked.

  “Yes, you’re in. Your first task is a simple one. There is a wagon train carrying healing supplies from the east toward this battle. The only problem is that the wagon train isn’t on our side, but belongs to our enemies,” the captain said. “Go take care of it. Either destroy it, loot it, or hijack it and bring it to me; I don’t care how you handle it. I just don’t need the enemy players receiving a massive shipment of healing potions.”

  “Perfect!” Van said. “We’re on it.”

  And with that, Van and the team hastily left the tent.

  “Oh, I cannot believe we pulled that off!” Sahara said. “I wanted to make so many jokes!”

  “I owe everyone here a round of beer at the next tavern we hit,” Van said. “No one said a word! You were all perfect!”

  “I made Capello log out,” Kylian said. “He set his character to auto-follow and left for the day.”

  “Oh…” Van said. “That’s an option?”

  “Move over!” Dolly said as she shifted around. Sang gritted her teeth in pain as she felt Dolly’s knees dig into her sides as the girl tried to climb over her.

  “Take it easy,” Sang hissed. “If you keep moving, you’ll blow our cover!” The two of them were in a hole by the side of the road. Van had come up with a clever trap to ambush the wagon. Since the supply wagon would most likely be surrounded be enemy players, he felt it would be a good idea to strike quickly.

  The ambush was going to be a simple one. They’d dug a large hole in the ground and covered it with foliage and leaves to hide its presence from the wagon. Once the wagon crashed into the hole, Sang and Dolly would leap out of their hiding places and quickly kill as many players as they could from behind while Van and his forces would charge from the front, distracting them. The plan was perfect, with the exception of Dolly, who just couldn’t seem to stay still.

  “Dolly, if you keep moving, they might see us,” Sang said.

  “Why does the hole have to be so small? I can barely move around,” she fussed.

  Sang couldn’t tell how old Dolly was, but by the way she talked, she was assuming that she was in her teen years.

  “You know, a real hardened criminal would sit still for hours if it meant slitting some throats,” Sang suggested. That was all Dolly needed to stop writhing around. She stopped moving and stood perfectly still. For some reason, the girl was so overly obsessed with being a criminal that all Sang ever needed to do in order to motivate her was suggest that her actions would be similar to a real criminal. It was a weird and somewhat manipulatory way to motivate the girl, but Sang had to work with what she was given. She had learned this style of leadership from Van, who seemed to always know exactly what to say to get the team moving.

  “Ca-caaaaw!” Capello screamed at the top of his lungs, and with the most un-birdlike caw that Sang had ever heard. That was the signal, though. The wagon was close. Sang stood, gripping her blades tightly. They had covered the hole with a bush, so she was unable to see, but she could hear the creaking of the wagon as it rolled steadily along.

  “Almost there, boys!” called a voice. It probably belonged to one of the wagon drivers. “We’ll be eating steak tonight!”

  Sang grinned as she gripped her daggers. This was going to be the perfect ambush.

  “Whhoooooaaaa!” screamed the wagon driver as the sounds of wood shattering and horses whinnying filled the air.

  “Charge!” Capello shouted at the top of his lungs, and Sang knew that was the second signal. They had to count down to five and then the fun would begin.

  “One… two… three…” Sang whispered, glancing at Dolly and nodding at her. They both turned translucent at the same time, going into Stealth mode. Quietly, they emerged from the pit to see that complete chaos had overtaken the scene. There were fifteen soldiers, clad in Kyrissian outfits, fighting against Capello and Kylian. Bidane was lying on the ground, unconscious and with several arrows sticking out of her, and Van had only 15 hit points left. The wagon had crashed into the hole, but it hadn’t fully dropped into the trap—it appeared that the driver had veered hard to the right, preventing the entire wagon from falling through.

  What happened? Sang thought as she rushed forward, short sword drawn. Two archers standing beside the damaged wagon were expertly shooting through the melee, riddling Capello full of arrows. The berserker ignored his wounds, however, as his Class power allowed him to ignore the debilitating effects of damage until the end of a battle. Despite the fact that blood was pouring out of the short warrior’s body, Capello was still hacking away at his foes.

  Sang struck the first archer with her blade and the words CRITICAL DAMAGE appeared over the archer’s head as he sank to the ground, dead. Her Stealth mode disengaged immediately after the attack and the second archer spun around to face her. Before he could shoot her, however, Dolly leapt onto his back and sank both of her daggers into the man’s neck. He coughed and wheezed for a moment, then hit the ground with a thump. Sang was a little disturbed at the realism of the way t
he archer had gurgled, choking on his own blood.

  “Come on!” Dolly shouted as she rushed to the back ranks of the soldiers who had surrounded Kylian. Capello was now on the ground unconscious, but Sang could see that his status was Dying. Until he received a medical roll or healing, his health would drop every few minutes until he died.

  Sang drew her bow and began to shoot the exposed backs of the Kyrissian soldiers. 100 damage appeared over each soldier as she fired arrow after arrow. Her fingers were beginning to grow tired from the sheer amount of arrows that she was firing at the opposing forces. The soldiers were well armored, and their damage reduction was making it hard to fight them.

  “Where’s the wizard?” Sang asked as she took a moment to catch her breath. There were only seven soldiers left, and Kylian was still standing, as well. Bidane was slowly getting to her feet with the help of Van.

  “No idea!” Dolly replied as she rushed back to where Sang was. She was covered in blood and her health was extremely low. “These soldiers are packing a real punch, though—I don’t know if we’re going to win this.”

  Sang looked over at Van. He waved at her frantically. “Sang! Plan B! Now!”

  “You hear that?” Sang asked as she grabbed a bottle from her backpack. She handed it to Dolly. “You know the drill.”

  “Damn. Well, we tried,” Dolly said as she vigorously shook the bottle. With a heave, she threw the bottle right into the wagon. Brown liquid splashed all over the wagon, soaking the wooden frame.

  Sang snapped off a single arrow at the wagon. The arrow sailed through the air, igniting as it flew. As soon as the fire touched the liquid, the entire wagon burst into flames.

  “Crap!” one of the soldiers shouted, abruptly turning his attention to the wagon. “Get the wagon! Get the—” His words were cut off as one of the wagon wheels that had been keeping it suspended above the pit shattered. The wagon made a horrible groaning noise as it slid backwards and flipped, crashing down into the pit. The sound of a thousand glass bottles shattering accompanied the sounds of wood splintering upon impact.