Rotgoriel looked around at the dozen players.

As armies went, it wasn't that much. As besieging armies went, it was less than pathetic.

But then the defenders were about half that number, and the attackers had enough tokens for a few respawns apiece. So it would be good training... that was the hope, at any rate.

And it was a rematch against her.

The last time they'd fought, she had held back, and he'd gotten two Cleric levels from the clash. This time she wouldn't be holding back.

“And neither shall I,” Rotgoriel rumbled.

“Rich?”

Rotgoriel surveyed the slope ahead. They would be fighting uphill the whole way. He would have to stay out of the air for much of it, or she would be on him quickly—

“Rich?”

Wait, that is my other name. Rotgoriel blinked and turned around. “Yes?”

“Did you say something?”

This was Jordan, one of his Archers. The one who wasn't also a Scout. “I was thinking to myself,” Rotgoriel said. “Is your team ready?”

“Almost. Once Anselm gets back we'll be good to go.”

Anselm... Rotgoriel pondered, as he looked over the teams. Anselm was the other Archer, the one who was scouting. They were in a group with Steve, who was the Fire Elementalist, and Alex... no, Alan, the Wizard. Alex was the Berserker, who was in the fighting group, along with four other people who did their work up close. The dwarf, Max, was there too, and Greg, one of Rich's bondmates on the other side.

The other bondmate was Gag. Gag was... wait, no, that was wrong. Greg. Greg was back with the last group, which included Cole and Greg and Bobby, who was an Enchanter, along with a few other minor things. They were there to support the fighting and shooting groups.

Rotgoriel was his own group, of course. As Rich had explained it, he would be the cavalry. This had upset him, until Rich had clarified that unless he saw an opportunity for a clever trick, he wouldn't have to carry anyone on his back.

Movement, to his left. He turned his head too far, then adjusted. I have my eye back, Rotgoriel reminded himself.

“We couldn't get too close,” Anselm said, skin shifting away from its camouflage pattern as he approached. “They've got these little bird things with human faces.”

“Simurghani,” Cole confirmed, stepping out of the shadows of another rock. “Djinni summoned by the First Pact skill. Not much got for anything but watching and distracting people, but good enough we couldn't risk getting close in.”

“First Pact...” Rotgoriel mused, then checked his status. “I have that. And if I have that, you have that. Why do we not have these Smurfanny?”

“Simurghani. It takes a head and a heart of a beast for each one. And you have to know how to program actual code to call them.” Cole shrugged. “Not my specialty, sorry. You wanna give it a try, Boss? If we hold off on respawning, we'll have plenty of heads and hearts to work with. It's one hundred fortune a pop, though, could add up quickly.”

Rotgoriel thought it over. He had Rich's memories, but remembering the magic called coding and actually applying it were two different things. And at that cost... “We have no time, and we must keep pressure on, once we begin. No. But we will remember this for the true enemy's assault.”

“End result is we couldn't get through the passes,” Anselm shrugged. He was playing a beastkin, a snowshare hare, and his ears kept twitching through his head wraps despite his best efforts. The green letters above his head read “Hoppson Barley,” and it was a chore to remember his real name. “We got close enough to see they're both guarded. Probably have landslides waiting.”

“And where is Agnezsharron?” Rotgoriel asked.

“Couldn't see her. No sign of those stupid antlers.” Anselm took a step back as Rotgoriel glared at him. “Whoa. I say something wrong?”

Rotgoriel thought that her antlers were cute. But he shook his head, tore his mind away from her rack. “It is my job to counter her. I cannot do that if I do not know where she is.”

“Yeah, but if we get hung up on her, they've got room to shank us from another direction,” Cole argued. “You're just gonna have to be ready.”

“Enough,” Rotgoriel spoke. He was weary of plans and contingencies and complexities that would ultimately be pointless. “Let us go and crush our foes... lightly, remember. Lightly.”

The villagers would be the other team, lead by Agnezsharron. Since they were not players, he and his team would have to refrain from killing them. And so their true goal was to get at least half of his force from the starting point into the center of town, without any of them spawning in there or otherwise cheating.

They'd built a small group of tents at the base of the mountain earlier and christened it Freezeassville. A quick murder had confirmed that they could respawn there. And it was from Freezeassville that Rotgoriel led the way, striding up the trail, angling for the Eastern pass.

The groups fell in behind him, Melee troops a few feet behind his lashing tail, the missile team spreading out to the sides, and the support group to the rear.

As they went, Rotgoriel caught bluish-green feathers glinting in the wind, and strange birdlike forms scurrying back. The Simurghani, he thought. It irked him that they had flying scouts and he did not. But that was fine, he was not trying to hide right now. Let them see him come!

CHONK!

A dark speck rose in the sky. Agnez? He scrutinized it, as it grew larger.

“That sounded like wood on wood,” Greg said.

“Come to think of it, I saw Agnez hauling up some trees yesterday,” Cole added.

That speck was now coin-sized in the sky. “It looks like a rock,” Rotgoriel said. “Why are they throwing rocks over us?”

“They have a catapult? Shit!” Pat called from the back. “Should we be scattering?”

“No. It is clearly going to arc over us,” Rotgoriel snorted. “They are wasting boulders.” He kept moving, scanning the cliffs. This was a distraction, there had to be something else—

“Manipulate Earth!” someone called from the cliffs. Rotgoriel caught a flash of movement.

“Now you should be scattering.” Rotgoriel remarked, and took to the skies.

The rock's trajectory twisted, as it started to come back down. Rotgoriel studied it as he rose. It was a big chunk of ice and stone, and bits of it were popping out as it fought its own momentum. Whoever the earth elementalist was, his skill was meager. Rotgoriel grabbed for it, trying to catch it, and managed to do so without shredding the thing.

DEX+1

Shrugging, he sent it back groundward, to the cliffs near the watchers. The rock came nowhere near the cliffs, and he winced as it nearly rolled onto his support group. Fortunately they'd taken his advice and scrambled.

CHONK!

Another rock in the distance, this one heading straight for him. Somebody was a good shot.

Rotgoriel debated catching this one, decided against it. If it was aimed at him, it wouldn't go toward his army, even with manipulation. He easily twisted aside...

...then turned a lazy roll into a panicked dive, as vines exploded out of it, trying to grab at him.

Your Dodge skill is now level 15!

Vines! Agnez had to be near!

Rotgoriel flew in circles, surveying the cliffs, searching for a flash of green. Nothing, save for the patches of cloth that the two figures on the ridge below were wearing.

Was she one of them? Rotgoriel squinted, saw no antlers.

As he watched, the figures worked to pound on part of a fence surrounding a large mass of boulders. They were going to drop a landslide. Cole had been correct on that part, at least.

Arrows whirred up the cliff, most falling short. But one of the figures jerked back, a line of red appearing in the snow. Not a major hit, but a definite one. The figure called out— the voice sounded male— and ran back towards the village. That was the agreement; a single hit from anything, and they had to flee back to their 'base' and be out of it for five minutes.

Which made that remaining figure very tempting. It was still working at the fence, and none of the arrows were coming near. Rotgoriel furled his wings and began his dive...

...only to pull up a second later, as a feeling touched the back of his mind. No. Too easy.

He waited to see if he'd gotten a mental stat gain out of it, but the words were silent. Growling, he took the course that he knew Rich would, and flew back to his army.

CHONK!

Rotgoriel whipped his head around, saw the rock coming in fast, and rolled... too late.

The thing caught him square on, and he grunted. As the sky whirled by, he saw a red '83' in the air. Not too horrible, thanks to his scales. But the ground was coming up fast, and he pumped his wings, forcing his body to curl, tucking his tail in to minimize the torque.

AGL+1

Your Fly skill is now level 25!

He hit the ground hard but right-side up, and glared up at the cliffs, and the streams of snow that were starting to drift down. “Get behind me!” he roared. “Landslide!”

“Buffs, man, buffs!” he heard Pat shout to the others, and that reminded him that he could use a few himself.

“Shield of Divinity.”

Your Shield of Divinity skill is now level 11!

And then Rotgoriel braced himself.

The landslide thundered down with a growling noise like an elder's challenge, snow and stone and dirt and ice rolling in a wave that battered against Rotgoriel, gouging and pounding and relentless.

Battered, and broke.

Eventually it ebbed, and he stood up, clawed his way out—

—and ducked as another flying boulder missed his head by a few feet.

A wet, crunching noise behind him and a choked off scream told him that not all his men had been so lucky.

“Forward! Quickly!” he bellowed, then threw in a few lesser healings as he went to get himself back up a bit. Somewhere around skill level twenty-eight his head started to pound, so he left off and focused on the run instead.

To his surprise, he realized that some of his force was running ahead of him. When had they gotten that fast? True, it was the more nimble ones, but still, it irked him not being able to keep up.

“Bless my agility fifty,” he muttered, and NOW he was moving faster.

“Dammit Rich!” he heard someone shout from behind. “You said you'd leave that on me!”

“No time,” Rotgoriel shot back. Had his brother blessed someone for this? Well there was no fixing it now. They were almost past the cliffs...

...when a long green neck poked a green-scaled head over the side, and shouted in the draconic tongue.

“Molderate!”

Rotgoriel tried to stop, tried to turn and throw himself in between her and his forces, but it was too late. He was at the front and she was attacking from the rear, and even with his boosted agility he could do nothing but shout in frustration as the cloud enveloped the back half of his force. His support group screamed and dropped, mushrooms springing up from their mouths and eyes and ears. One of them, Neil, was reduced to a pile of writhing compost in the time it took for Rotgoriel to close the gap.

With a laugh Agnezsharron took off, and Rotgoriel hurled himself after her. “Sandblast!”

A few seconds later he was blinking furiously, trying to get his own grit out of his eyes. Flying through the cloud he'd put into the air hadn't been the best of ideas.

Growling, he pushed toward the green form that was speeding into the distance...

...and slowed.

No. No, she wanted him to chase her. But that wasn't the goal, here.

She had been the lone figure left on the ridge for a reason, and that reason was to try and get him to attack her. To render him a non-issue so her defenders could take apart his army without him there to shield them.

It went against every bit of him, but he ignored the challenge and turned back to aid his troops.

INT+1

Half of them were dead, he realized. He hadn't saved everyone from the landslide, and Agnezsharron's breath had rotted his forces to a fraction of their strength. “Pull together!” he commanded, then hit the ground again, leading the way up the hill.

CHONK!

The first assault failed miserably. Everyone in the village knew how to use a bow, and they rained arrows and rocks down on the weakened army as they came up. And when Rotgoriel tried to fly up and pull attention from his troops, Agnezsharron came thundering back to chew at them.

“Greg says we need to fall back and regroup at camp, try a push when we have everyone alive!” Benson whispered in his ear, his magic carrying his voice on the wind.

“Retreat!” Rotgoriel bellowed, taking the advice as he turned to go.

“No,” Agnezsharron said sweetly, as she threw Cole's battered body screaming into the abyss that was the chasm. “I think not.”

And then she came straight for him.

There was no chance to dodge, even with his enhanced agility. She had much, much more experience in the air than he did.

In the air, he thought, and tried to grab at her as she raked him with her claws. Tried to clutch at her wings, snap at the joints and bear her to the ground.

If she had been weaker, it might have worked. Instead, Rotgoriel found himself bouncing off the slope and half-falling, half-rolling back down to the pass, with her roaring fire at him all the way down.

Once Rotgoriel had stopped tumbling he pulled himself up...

...just in time to see that she'd followed him down, before she tore into him with tooth and claw.

He fought back, and got in a few good swipes and chomps and skill levels in both, but he was wounded and drained, and the outcome was never in doubt.

And this time she didn't stop until he'd died.

The gray wash of deathchat, the endlessly shouted insults and jokes and random conversations, all of those fanned Rotgoriel's rage. He slammed the button that got him out of there so quickly that he worried for a second he'd broken the damned thing. But no, it was just a short delay, and his tokens transferred without an issue. Though a message did appear that made little sense to him.

OUTSIDE ACTIVITY DETECTED: You may be compromised. Please double-check your account biometrics.

Either way it didn't stop him resurrecting. He shot Konol a glance as he chose his destination, but the chained god said nothing more than his usual lines.

Back Rotgoriel went, to rejoin his battered, but unbowed crew.

“All right,” he decided, when almost everyone had respawned, “let us try the sneaky plan.”

First, though, they needed to get their stuff back. The bulk of the group huddled together, clad in only the skull-patterned boxer shorts that the game provided newly respawned individuals, while the sneaky types went and retrieved the gear from where each person had fallen. Rotgoriel stayed alert at a distance, watching for Agnezsharron, but she did not try and disturb the retrieval teams. A few long-range arrows drifted down whenever one of the Scouts or Cole got a little careless, but after about ten minutes they had most of their weapons and armor back. A bit battered, but still usable.

“Mid battle repairs are gonna be a thing,” Steve remarked, his voice gruff through his beard. “Can't do them down here, but in the real battle we'll have access to the village's tools.”

“The sooner we get this over with, the better,” Rotgoriel responded. “Split into the two teams. Let us see how the sneaky plan works.”

The sneaky way was a simultaneous push on both the eastern and southern passes, with Rotgoriel flying straight up the bluffs between them.

It fared a bit better. The village defenders only seemed to have one rock hurling machine, and they didn't have enough people to concentrate fire on one group at a time.

But what they did have was a green dragon.

A green dragon with control of the winds, as Rotgoriel realized when they turned against him and tried to force him into the sheer cliffs.

Your Fly skill is now level 26!

Tried being the operative word. He might not be the best flier in the world, but he had mass and momentum.

Mass and momentum and a face full of Agnezsharron as she used the moment to dive bomb him from above.

They fought again, but he had used the time waiting on the item retrieval teams to work out something like a plan.

“Dark Chant,” he said, and then he found words spilling out of his mouth, words accompanied by a backbeat from unseen instruments, bronzed pipes wailing, hand drums rattling, and strings vibrating unseen as he sang about fortune and fate and watched the first white '19' ooze out of Agnez' head.

Your Dark Chant skill is now level 20!

“Enough!” she roared, and tried to bite through his wing joint... but it was a maneuver she'd used before, and Rotgoriel managed to twist out the way and knock her maw aside with a backhand sweep.

The moment cost him, though. “Tail Slap!”

It caught him square between the eyes, and though it didn't rattle him or stun him like it would've a lesser creature, it did knock him off balance. His wings faltered, and she followed through with a roll and slammed her head against his flank. Rotgoriel fell, and she chased after him, merrily toasting his tail as he dropped.

But she didn't follow up on her advantage once he hit the stony ground, and he struggled to his feet, healing himself, and wondering why she hadn't.

He got his answer from high up on the passes, as fire flared and young men screamed. His troops were dying. Again.

Rotgoriel growled his irritation, and chased after her... but was too slow to stop her from annihilating the group pushing up the Eastern pass. The Southern one was a wash too, he could tell, with the few burnt survivors retreating at top speed.

“Are you done, little boy?” he heard Agnezsharron laugh as she turned, smoke and steam from her massacre wafting skywards.

“Not a chance!” Rotgoriel retorted. “Holy Smite! Shield of Divinity! Enhance Pain!”

Your Holy Smite skill is now level 10!

Your Shield of Divinity skill is now level 12!

Enhance Pain failed! Agnezsharron resists!

It took her a few minutes to kill him, this time. He managed to get the dark chant going again during the fight, ripping a little more fortune away, but the end was inevitable. She was larger, stronger, faster...

...but he noticed that she wasn't using as many skills, this time around.

Rotgoriel thought it possible that he was wearing her down.

And when he returned from the deathchat this time, it was to see good news flashing across his field of vision.

You are now a level 12 Young Stone Dragon!

CON+30

STR+30

WILL+30

WIS+30

Armor+25

Endurance+25

Mental Fortitude+25

You are now a level 8 Cleric!

CON+3

LUCK+3

WIS+3

You are now a level 12 Cultist!

CHA+3

INT+3

LUCK+3

And looking around at his shivering, respawning troops, he saw that he wasn't the only one who had gotten some levels from the experience.

This is the power of players. We can keep doing this over, and over again. Until we eventually win.

And they did.

Enduring through arrows, and stones, and landslides, and bear traps, and the wrath of Agnezsharron, and a few assaults from the more melee-suited of the villagers, enduring all that and trying a mix of different things to keep Agnezsharron scrambling, the 'invaders' finally won. Rotgoriel gained another clerical level after all was said and done, and felt quite happy about it.

He stood in the center of the village, watching the sun go down, feeling the exhaustion from that last push. He coughed up a mushroom, spat it out, and rubbed his eyes to get the last of the spores from his counterpart's breath away before they could take root.

He didn't glance up as leathery wings beat the sky, and Agnez fluttered down gracefully to stand next to him.

“The moon will be rising soon,” she said, quietly.

“Thank you for reminding me. Occult Eye.”

He watched the city fade in. It was stronger now, much stronger. Moonlight made strange angle solid, and the runes in the side of them glowed with a light that almost appeared golden in the rays of the setting sun. He watched it grow, a mad spray of buildings filling the valley, even poking into the mountainsides at various places. Had the mountains grown over them, like a healing scar, trying to cover over a grievous injury?

“We did well, I think,” Rotgoriel said finally.

“Your team did well. You did not,” Agnezsharron said, staring back at the rising moon.

“Yes, you slew me four times, but you are older and stronger. This is the way of things.”

“No,” Agnezsharron said, voice quieter. “Dragons do not slay each other. I slew a player. Remember this. And you did not do well. What was your goal, here?”

“To win.”

“By...”

“To win by occupying the center of the village. We did that.”

“After a full day. Against villagers who had never seriously fought before today. Who still have not, since no one was trying to kill them.”

“There was still risk,” Rotgoriel protested.

“There was. But six held off over twice their number.”

“Seven. You were with them,” Rotgoriel pointed out.

“And you were not with your team, not truly.” She looked at him. “You are growing strong. But the force that comes, I do not think you are strong enough for them. Or clever enough. Your player is clever. But he did not tell you how to fix your weakness.”

“What weakness?” Rotgoriel scowled. “I have none.”

“You do,” she insisted. “Think. What are your jobs?”

“Cleric. Cultist. Dragon, of course.”

“And yet why do you keep trying to be nothing but a dragon?”

“I am a dragon. I am not nothing.”

“What was your role in the battle?”

“I was leading it, of course.”

“No. What was your role?”

“I... countering you?”

“And I was put out there to counter you. Do you know where I expected to find you, Rotgoriel?”

“In the front—”

“No. In the rear. Healing and buffing and supporting others, because that is what Clerics do. Yes, they can do other things, but when a Cleric is acting to support others, to heal and bless, then they strengthen their entire group, not just themselves. I expected to have to wade through your bodyguards while you healed them, and debuffed me with your Cultist skills. I expected to have my perception dulled so your rogues could attack me unawares. I expected my ears to be filled with dark chants, while your wizard and elementalists cast spells every time I tried to strike you down. But none of this happened.”

Rotgoriel said nothing.

“Instead you hurled yourself out front, to try and take the brunt of everything, and only healed yourself. You tried to debuff me a few times, but failed because I didn't give you time to use them effectively. Time you would have had if you had a team to slow me down. You are a dragon, yes, but you are damned suited to supporting others. You are near impossible to kill with a single attack, which makes the usual trick of slaying the healer first untenable. And that, Rotgoriel is why it took a full day for you to win.”

Rotgoriel looked down. His stomach was churning, and his heart felt as if it was in his throat. “Did... did I do that badly, then?”

“No. You leveled. You learned something... perhaps. And we found your weakness before the battle that counts. But Rotgoriel, I tell you this,” she said, standing and spreading her wings. “If you make such a mistake again, I will not die here. You will be on your own. So think over my words, and talk it over with your player, and when the day comes, I want you to do better.” And with a beat of her wings, she was up and away.

Rotgoriel sat there, staring into the moonlight, at the city below.

And despite the celebration and happy chatter around the village, he felt alone, so very alone.

I miss my brother, he decided finally. Richard will know what to do.

RUTGER'S CHARACTER SHEET

Spoiler: Spoiler

Name: Rutger Royal

Age: 3

Jobs:

Cleric (Konol) 9, Cultist (Anjuuta) 12, Young Dragon (Stone) 12

Attributes Pools Defenses

Strength: 400 Constitution: 421 Hit Points: 821 Armor: 240

Intelligence: 83 Wisdom: 164 Sanity:247 Mental Fortitude: 240

Dexterity: 24 Agility: 59 Stamina: 83 Endurance: 75

Charisma: 76 Willpower: 398 Moxie: 474 Cool: 165

Perception: 304 Luck: 96 Fortune: 400 Fate: 31

General Skills

Brawling – Level 23

Climb – Level 4

Dodge – Level 15

Fly – Level 26

Ride – Level 1

Stealth – Level 5

Swim – Level 2

Stone Dragon Skills

Burninate – Level 20

Chomp – Level 20

Draconic Tongue – Level N/A

Dragonseye – Level 20

Earth Resistance – Level N/A

Flameborn – Level N/A

Hoarder – Level 2

Limited Equipment – Level N/A

No Thumbs – Level N/A

Sandblast – Level 5

Scaly Wings – Level N/A

Slow to Age – Level N/A

Tail Slap – Level 5

Cleric Skills

Blessing – Level N/A

Curative – Level N/A

Faith – Level N/A

Godspell:

Holy Smite – Level 10

Lesser Healing – Level 28

Party Heal – Level 1

Pray to Konol – Level 1

Shield of Divinity – Level 12

Cultist Skills

Conceal Status – Level 10

Curses – Level 10

Dark Chant – Level 20

Darkspell: Fool's Gold – Level 35

Enhance Pain – Level 10

Fevered Zeal – Level 1

First Pact – Level 1

Occult Eye – Level N/A

Servant of Darkness – Level N/A

Transfer Wounds – Level 21

Unhinged Mind – Level N/A

Unlocked Jobs

Conjuror, Fire Elementalist, Grifter, Knight

Gear:

Assorted low-level reagents and crystals, and a dozen bits of golden furnishings and random objects