Nova Terra- Greymane

by Seth Ring

  “They not only have a larger number of soldiers than we do, but they have a solid core of players who are better than almost any force we have. Expect the next fight to be bloody and difficult. The only plus side is that it will probably take them at least a day to finish building the siege weapons, which gets us a day closer to our goal. Honestly, as long as we can make it through tomorrow I think we should be okay.”

  “Have you figured out a way to get Ragnarok to back off?” Velin’s normally impassive face lit up.

  “Yeah, I think so. It is a bit of a gamble, but I’m pretty sure it should work. We will find out tomorrow night, though for it to work we need to maintain control of the valley, which means keeping the control point. So, let’s make sure we keep them out.” Taking a deep breath, Thorn had a hard time keeping the smile off his face.

  Tomorrow would be the final showdown, the final fight for the valley. If he could keep control of it, he would be paving his path in Nova Terra. If he lost, everything he had worked for so far would evaporate. “All the cards will be played tomorrow, we will have to wait and see how they fall. But I’m getting ahead of myself.” With a wave, Thorn left the girls and went to find Elder Havva. There was much to do.

  Later that night Thorn stood on the wall with the Elder, the captain, and both girls. He had been trying to explain to Mina why she was not coming with him to raid the enemy camp.

  “Mina, you are not stealth based.” His attempts were not going well.

  “Oh, like you are? Look Velin, it is a super sneaky giant. Don’t worry, if he stands still people will mistake him for a tree on account of his giant head. He can blend right into the forest.”

  “Mina, Thorn is in charge so if he says you are not going, then you are not going.” Velin did her best to keep the corners of her lips from curving up.

  “Mina, I need you here so you can help me get back into the citadel without having to open the gate. I’ll need you to create stairs or something for me to climb. This is serious so stop messing around. If you can’t do it then I’ll come up with a different plan.”

  “But why does Velin get to go?”

  “So I don’t die. You will see plenty of action tomorrow, but right now I need you to follow directions.”

  “I…” Thorn was trying to be as patient as possible, but the rough edge of his annoyance must have peeked through his slow speech because the response on Mina’s lips died out and she looked away. “Fine, I’ll stay here.”

  “Thank you.” Thorn rubbed the bridge of his nose as he thought through the plan. “Velin, you’re with me. We might need to make a quick getaway, so my apologies if I pick you up without your permission. Captain, you are in charge of the wall until I get back. If something goes wrong and I don’t make it back, hold for as long as you can. Alright. Let’s go.”

  Grabbing the slim elf around the waist, Thorn placed a hand on the edge of the wall and casually hopped over the edge. Keeping his grip on the wall, he waited until he was hanging fully before he let go, sliding down a few feet and then pushing off to land on the ground. As he put Velin down he couldn’t help but wonder if he would be able to completely encircle her waist with two hands. Shaking away the errant thoughts, Thorn walked toward the Crimson Snake camp.

  From the flurry of action at the camp, it was obvious that the sentries on night watch spotted him. The flurry of activity only expanded when Thorn unrolled a giant white cloth, waving it above his head. Soon, a couple hundred Crimson Snake soldiers and players had circled him, holding weapons. Thorn was amused to see that they stood at least thirty feet away, well out of reach, and even maintained that distance as he advanced.

  Holding the white cloth, Thorn strode toward the Crimson Snake camp, slow enough that Velin did not have to run to keep up. The jostling crowd of players and natives that surrounded them struggled slightly to maintain the proper distance from him as he moved, causing him to smile. By the time they arrived most of the camp had been woken up and was gathered to watch as Thorn and Velin entered.

  “Hold. Are you here to surrender?” One of the Blood Guard held out his hand for Thorn and Velin to stop.

  “I would like to speak to your leader. Please take me to him.” Thorn made no effort to control the volume of his voice, and his deep rumble woke those who had not yet gotten up.

  “There is no…”

  “Take me to your leader.” The full weight of Thorn’s presence fell on the Blood Guard, causing him to shrink back slightly, his face paling. Before he could fall back more than a step, a hand fell on his shoulder, steadying him. Stepping out of the shadows, the black-armored figure gestured for Thorn and Velin to follow and made their way to the tent in the center of the camp.

  “Be careful.” Velin whispered as she watched the figure in front of them, a note of fear in her voice. “I’m almost 100% certain that is Ouroboros. His quad category class is incredibly powerful. We need to avoid a direct fight if possible.”

  “Relax, we are here for a chat.”

  “I’m afraid that we will not be the ones deciding that soon.”

  A crimson tent sat in the center of the Crimson Snake camp. The golden symbol of the Crimson Snakes adorned the tent flaps but it was two Blood Guard players that stood outside guarding the entrance. Not bothering to see if they followed, the black-armored figure walked inside. Ducking to follow them into the tent, Thorn was surprised to see how comfortably furnished the tent was. Much larger on the inside than the outside, the tent was divided into multiple richly furnished rooms.

  A thick carpet covered the floor of the tent and elegant furniture dotted the main room. A large, throne-like chair with the symbol of the Crimson Snakes carved into the back dominated the far end of the room and the black-armored figure walked toward it, taking off his helmet and tossing it onto a small table. Sitting down, Ouroboros stared at Thorn and Velin, his face glum.

  “Please, have a seat.” Sighing, he rubbed his face, as if he could rub away his frustration. “Would you like anything to eat or drink? I believe there is some wine around here somewhere.”

  “No, thanks. And it may be better for your furniture if I stay standing.” Thorn chuckled.

  “Eh, suit yourself. It isn’t my furniture.” Ouroboros shrugged. “If you are not here for a drink, what are you here for? Only a fool would believe that you are going to surrender, but only a fool would walk into their enemy’s camp alone. So I must admit, I’m at a loss as to what to think about you.”

  “Haha, that is a pretty fair assessment.” Nodding, Thorn examined Ouroboros closely. He had been torn about how he would feel facing the person who had orchestrated his betrayal, but he found that he had been entirely wrong. Thorn had been sure that he would have trouble controlling his anger when he finally met up with Ouroboros. Instead, Thorn felt a strange apathy, as if Ouroboros was a stranger. The anger was still there, but it was slow, deep and burning.

  “Look, I don’t mean to suggest that we have to be enemies, but it would certainly seem like we have fallen on opposite sides in this conflict.” On the large chair, Ouroboros leaned back, one of his fingers tapping his arm rest. “I took over this operation until Angdrin returns. And it is hard for me to give up guild business like this. Why don’t we work something out that will work for both of us? Once everything with the valley is arranged, we could reform the team. I miss playing with all of you.”

  “That’s it?” The coldness in Thorn’s heart solidified into ice.

  “What else is there?” Ouroboros spread his hands, confused.

  “Disappointing.” Somehow, Thorn’s deep voice pierced Ouroboros, causing him to lower his hands, a flash of desolation crossing his eyes. His hands dropped to grip his armrests tightly, opening his mouth as if he was going to say something. Seeing his hesitation, Thorn suddenly felt a wave of fatigue wash over his soul. Shaking his head, Thorn spoke.

  “We are here to discuss terms on behalf of Lord Greymane, the Moon Wolf, Lord of Moon Wolf Citadel. And to deliver a present.
” All friendliness was gone from Thorn’s voice. “You are to take your army and retreat, as your current actions are unlawful. Per the ancient and just laws of the empire, you have intruded on the sovereign ground of a native race. Withdraw or face the wrath of the empire.

  “Penalties range from paying reparations to execution of all participants. If you continue, your full guild will be forfeit. Given your lack of awareness of the laws, we will agree to not pursue any reparations for the damage your army has caused to this point, should you choose to withdraw. If you choose not to withdraw, we will prosecute Ragnarok to the furthest extent of the law.

  “You have until nine o’clock tomorrow morning to pull your army back, taking nothing from the land that you did not bring, but removing everything you did. We will welcome a diplomatic group at the beginning of next week, but any other forces will be met with appropriate force. Those are the terms. And this is the present.” Thorn placed the white cloth on the table, covering Ouroboros’ helmet. “Given your history of making the wrong choice, I think it is likely that you will need this.”

  CHAPTER FOURTY-SIX

  “Are you serious?” Ouroboros broke the silence that had fallen over the tent, his quiet voice cutting through the tension like a hot knife. “Why must you be so serious about this? Is there really no room to compromise? Look, I don’t know how you connected with Lord Greymane, but the ownership of the valley isn’t something that can be resolved like this. Ragnarok has invested a significant amount of money in this corner of Nova Terra and we cannot afford to give up on resources just because a native said we should.

  “Believe me when I say that you don’t want to put yourself on the wrong side of Ragnarok. Not just because of the influence that the guild has in game. I know we talked about this before, but you don’t seem to have taken my words to heart, Thorn. This game is way more than a place to run around and complete fun quests. There are serious business interests tied into the economy of the game and behind the guilds are major businesses.

  “They are not going to step aside because some NPC wants them to. This is even more true of the top ten guilds. Ragnarok has immense sway in the real world and it is not wise to try and stand in the way when they want something. I know our last interaction was not pleasant, but please have some understanding about your position in all of this. For guilds like Ragnarok, players are there to be used or run over. I’m choosing to be useful, and I hope that you will make that same choice. It is the only way for people like us to survive.”

  Rising from his seat, Ouroboros walked closer.

  “There are forces at work that are beyond your understanding. Forces that will not hesitate to apply pressure in the real world. Unbearable pressure. Don’t throw away your life simply because you had a negative experience. There is still time for you to join the right side, the side of progress and growth. There is always a place for strong players in Ragnarok and both of you are among the strongest. Why not join me? Give up this pointless struggle and join the Blood Guard. I can guarantee the best treatment, both in game and in the real world.”

  “I…” Velin, who had been standing at Thorn’s side opened her mouth, a haunted look in her eyes.

  “Velin, you left before we had a chance to have a good conversation.” Turning his attention to the elven War Priestess, Ouroboros held her gaze, his eyes full of sincerity. “I am sorry I was so preoccupied, but you understand how much work building a faction is. Please don’t throw away what we had because I was being stupid. I know I was not including you enough. I was stupid to think that I could do everything on my own. Since you and Mina left I realized how important you are to me. Please give me another chance.” Staring into her eyes, Ouroboros stretched out his hand, pleading. “Please.”

  “I…” Velin’s words caught in her throat, her emotions turbulent. Slowly, she lifted her hand, reaching for Ouroboros. A moment before they touched, a massive hand closed over her slim palm, enveloping it. The huge palm covering her hand was warm, causing Velin to realize how cold her own hand was. With a shiver she woke up from her daze, the warmth cutting through her confusion.

  “Try to bewitch one of my people again and I will remove your head. Permanently.” Thorn’s deep voice was mild, yet somehow that made his threat all the more scary. There was an absolute conviction in his words that was as firm as stone.

  Stepping back, Ouroboros stared at Thorn, his eyes hard. The soft, persuasive air that had surrounded him was replaced with a sharp, cold aura.

  “That is your answer? You are going to put up a pointless struggle? You are going to willingly bring suffering on yourself and your companions in both the game and the real world? Your choice condemns them to death.”

  “I choose a life of my own. I choose not to be another’s dog. And I choose to grant that to my companions.” Thorn chuckled mirthlessly. “However, I would appreciate it if you would pass on a message for me. Tell your masters that they should keep the game in the game. Let real life be real life. Let Nova Terra be Nova Terra. You would do well to remember that as well. Lord Greymane’s message has been delivered to you, and by proxy, your guild. You can make your choice accordingly. Either retreat and this whole thing will be written off or fight and pay the consequences.” Still holding Velin’s hand, Thorn turned to leave.

  “If that is the case, why should I let you go?” Ouroboros’ tone had taken on a dangerous edge. “What stops me from cutting you down where you stand?”

  Stopping, Thorn looked over his shoulder and smirked.

  “You will let me go because if I start a fight here you will have no chance of taking the citadel. Tomorrow, you will rely on your siege weapons, and we will rely on our wall. And we’ll see whose is better.” Without waiting for a reply, Thorn strode out of the tent, easily pushing aside the guards that stepped up to stop him.

  Stumbling to the side the guards looked at Ouroboros who stood in the entrance to the tent, staring at Thorn’s large back, his face inscrutable. Since their leader did not make a move the guards stood to the side as well, letting Thorn pull Velin out of the camp. Enemy soldiers gathered to either side, but they did not impede Thorn’s path and soon Thorn and Velin reached the edge of the camp.

  “That went better than I expected.” Thorn muttered, his voice so quiet that Velin had to strain her ears to hear it. “But we’re not out of the woods yet. Velin, I’m going to start moving quickly in a second. Be ready to heal.”

  Nodding mutely, Velin’s mind couldn’t help but stray, returning to what she had just experienced. When they entered the tent with Ouroboros, she had been on guard against him. She knew firsthand how easy it was for him to twist the truth, reversing black and white with a few words. Yet nothing had prepared her for how invasive his words were. It must have been a new class ability. His words had deadened her resistance, slipping past all her defenses and muddling her ability to think. Emotions that she had buried started to surface, casting her into an illusory world. Causing her to believe that he was telling the truth.

  She shuddered. If Thorn had not been there... If he had not been able to withstand the corrupting influence of Ouroboros’ words, she could not even begin to imagine what would have happened. Tightening her grip on Thorn’s big hand, she was grateful for the warmth it brought.

  “Hold on.” His deep voice sounded and Velin found herself swept from her feet.

  Lifting the slim elf, Thorn launched himself forward, instantly accelerating. Behind him, he could hear shouts of anger and panic. Not bothering to look back, Thorn summoned his armor and fixed his eyes on the wall of the citadel, focusing on nothing but reaching the wall. Behind him, a furious shout rang out.

  “Thorn! Kill them!”

  Ouroboros had watched until Thorn was almost out of the camp when a commotion caught his attention. Walking around the tent, Ouroboros looked toward the back of the camp where licking tongues of flame leapt into the sky. His eyes going wide at the site of the siege equipment they had spent all day constructing burni
ng up in flames, Ouroboros lost it. Screaming out in rage, he roared out.

  Thorn paid the shouts no mind and focused on running. This was the first time that he had truly tested his top speed since the game started and, as his stride lengthened the land under his feet flashed by. Velin, held to his chest, found herself having trouble catching her breath as the wind whipped by. Behind him the Crimson Snake camp had erupted into chaos as half of the camp rushed toward him and the other half tried to put out the burning siege weapons.

  The pursuers raced after him as fast as they could but were unable to close the distance no matter how fast they ran. Soon a strung out line of Crimson Snake soldiers trailed Thorn, trying to slow him with spells and attacks. Arrows pelted Thorn as he ran, most bouncing from his armor, spent after their long flight. Others stabbed into his back, chipping away at his health.

  Chanting softly, Velin rested her hand on Thorn’s chest, continuously healing him even as his health drained away. Soon the citadel’s wall appeared in the charging army’s sight and they noticed that Thorn sped up.