Ryan and his wife drove up to the house in their ford pickup; in the back they had a few boxes with Manfred’s stuff. Manfred’s computer was rather more carefully packed. When they arrived Ryan admired the ten big friendly – once introduced – Alsatians roaming the yard.

Manfred’s stuff was soon carried into the house and they were introduced to Moonbright, a tiny winged lady with short blue-black curly hair and fair skin. They also met the new Manfred and used his portal. They returned an hour later full of enthusiasm and eager to help.

Meanwhile Manfred had absorbed his possessions and rearranged those he wished in the underground room he’d chosen for himself. His pixie for her part had explored his dungeon skills and abilities and correctly assumed that thanks to his grandfather, uncle Red and her sister he would feel considerable frustration in the future until his level rose to the point when he could use them.

So how to distract him, Moonbright smiled as she remembered the contents of one of the boxes. “Hey Manfred, as we’re in New England and near a nice big lake why don’t you choose Deep Ones as your starting monster choice. They should be more flexible than the standard Goblins or Kobolds. I suppose we could try to evolve a slime into a shoggoth but that might take some time.”

Manfred stopped contemplating the rather uninspiring list of starting monsters offered by the system and enthused by the idea of recreating some of his favourite scenarios and of hosting some LARP games with real monsters tried his luck. The system went for it and he had his monsters.

« Hey, how come you know about shoggoths and deep ones? »

Moonbright giggled, “what part of being bound companions are you forgetting Manfred.” Then she continued deep in his mind, « We’re always in each other’s mind and when you absorbed that box with your favourite games a lot spilled out. »

« Oh! »

Then two like minded individuals descended into a frenzy of planning interrupted only when a couple of guys came to install the high speed broadband Manfred had ordered.

* * *

At the FBI Academy the intelligence analysts swung into action in response to a most urgent request. It didn’t take them more than a day to learn everything about one Santanello, Manfred Daniel formerly of Lakeville, Massachusetts and now of somewhere near Blodgett Landing, New Hampshire.

A profile was requested and created and an urgent search was undertaken to find trustworthy people in the agency and amongst the student body that might appeal to one Santanello, Manfred Daniel.

A fairly short list was compiled and those on the list informed that they had volunteered to apply to become the Voice – whatever that was – of the new dungeon.

This led to several data searches by frantic ‘volunteers’ that kept coming up against entries labelled classified or unknown.

Only two thought to check the nascent Adventurer’s Guild website and those two were not reassured by what they found especially as it led them to the slick professional website maintained for the Hotel Luso and the – mostly fake – biography of Felicia.

* * *

Another agency was handling the purchase of a large block of land enclosing the Santanello property in New Hampshire, and for good measure a house near the family property in Lakeville. Surveillance experts were already on the way to the latter site.

* * *

Colonel Marion Oakhurst stood on one of his base’s guard towers and watched the approaching army with a heavy heart. Close on twelve thousand men and women armed with spears, swords and shields and a further twelve hundred cavalry split evenly on each flank. Behind the army there were more people dragging mangonels, trebuchets and ballistae. Directly behind the infantry were four clumps of oddly dressed individuals, the armies’ mage and healer corps.

The army reached and passed the first sets of ranged in markers, the Colonel decided there was no hurry, even if he didn’t fire a gun he doubted they would get past the minefields and the claymores.

The front ranks reached the second sets of markers.

As good as point blank range for his guns, they could reach more than twice that.

“105s prepare to fire. Range four kilometres.” He watched until the markers appeared behind the approaching infantry. “Fire.”

Three batteries of M119A2s opend fire as one, three mage groups ceased to exist and many infantrymen in the rear ranks including many file closers were likewise killed or injured. The guns adjusted their range and fired again. Carnage ensued in the tightly packed ranks of the would be attackers. A third volley saw the remnants of the armies of the Empire in flight. All in all the casualties had not been that heavy, less than one in ten but they included the leader of the army Senator Faalx Smoothtongue and most of the mages and healers.

“Cease Fire.”

The freed slaves cheerfully cleaned up the – whatever it was for battlefield it wasn’t – they would have done it for the loot but those crazy Americans were actually paying them to bury the dead. A task they were more than eager to do as they knew their former masters believed cremation freed the soul to rise to heaven whilst they believed burial would chain the soul in a rotting body.

* * *

When he got home that night Colonel Oakhurst was greeted by the absolute ruler of the camp’s spousal units, his wife Milly, affectionately known as Col. Milly by one and all.

“I don’t know how you managed it dear, I was only told yesterday and I only asked you yesterday and you’re telling me Betty has already befriended the girl.”

“Apparently they struck it off, some stupid blowhard was denigrating the States and they found each other shoulder to shoulder with their brothers behind them holding on for dear life. It must have been hilarious but I suspect we will have to visit the principal sometime soon. You know our Betty, she won’t let something like this go.”