Ethan was bored out of his mind. The last three hours had dragged on for what seemed like forever. There was no one to talk to and the beige canvas covering let in light, but nothing else. Maybe I should have walked like usual, at least then I’d get to kill some mobs.

Napping hadn’t worked, the constant bounce as the wagon’s wheels hit rocks kept him awake. He’d reviewed his character sheet, skills, class descriptions, and inventory so thoroughly, he could almost recite all the information from memory. It was his intention to try to decide between the two DPS classes on his travels, but he still couldn’t make up his mind.

He was just about to nod off again, finally having found a somewhat comfortable position to rest his head amongst the crates and bags, when the wagon lurched to a halt.

This shouldn’t be Startesgarde. Ethan waited a few seconds to be sure the wagon wouldn’t jolt forward before he awkwardly got to his feet. Hunching over, he made his way through the cargo to try to see what had caused the delay.

His wagon was close enough to the front of the train that he could barely make out shouting ahead of him.

“—Don’t care who you say you are!” Halder’s voice was recognizable over anyone else’s.

Aww fuck. He turned and reached for his axe which he’d placed next to him. Shouting usually meant trouble. His back had been up against a crate and his weapon hadn’t fit in its hook.

He didn’t bother replacing it on his back as he climbed down from the wagon and walked towards the voices.

Halder was standing with several other workers who held clubs nervously. Beyond them, Ethan saw a group of five people in full, ornate plate armor, all of them armed with an assortment of weapons. The man directly in front of Halder casually leaned on his spear. Over the front of his breast plate he wore a black tabard with a dark red dragon embroidered into it.

“I told you, the tax is 10 gold per wagon to pass this way. Either pay up or turn around. This is not negotiable.” He pointed back in the direction the caravan had just come from.

“This is robbery! There is no tax on this road!” Halder was beginning to get red faced, his earlier composure completely lost.

“What seems to be the problem?” Ethan walked up behind the two groups unnoticed but now felt the need to try to deescalate the tense situation.

The group in plate immediately gripped their weapons causing the traders to do the same. A hooded figure, slighter than the rest, was the only one in cloth armor. She held a crystalline staff that began to pulsate in purple energy. Ethan had missed her on his first count.

“There’s no problem here, I was just explaining to this fine man about the new tax on this route.” The leader shook his sandy hair from his face like a horse flicking away flies.

“That’s funny, there’s never been any sort of tax before.” Ethan responded in the same casual manner. He scanned the rest of the armored group, this was still in the safe zone of the Planes of Aranor, mobs would have their names and health appear floating over their heads.

This group had no health bars, and only two had names. Their leader’s stood out to him:

“Paul - Level 42 Weapons Master Fighter ”

“Caleb - Level 41 Vindicator Paladin ”

Shit. They’re three times my level. I have no chance in a fight. Ethan rarely displayed his own name and guild tag.

“Well, there is now.” Paul sneered at him in response.

“Now as in you and your friends decided there should be a tax and you’ve decided to collect?” Ethan was purposefully egging them on. He hated bullies. Players like these would often try to fleece low level NPCs and freshly respawned players for no other reason than they could.

Halder and his men all turned to glare at him, a few of them not even bothering to hide their anger or shock. The Blood Dragon guildmates snickered their contempt at this low level player.

“Look, we have three options here, that we’ve been hella clear on: you pay, you leave, or we kill everyone here.” Paul responded.

“Oh, I missed that last part. I didn’t know death was part of the deal.” Ethan lied, he hadn’t heard them say it but the implications were clear enough.

“Yeah, I hadn’t explicitly said that yet, but I assumed the intention was obvious.” Paul laughed and his friends followed his lead. Only the hooded woman remained quiet.

“Do you think Donovan would approve? Should I ask him?” Ethan tried to keep his voice calm and quiet. He’d just made a strong threat. Donovan was the melee leader for the Raid Clan. He knew the Blood Dragon guild was part of the Clan, and while some griefing was tolerated, the wholesale murder of a caravan wouldn’t be.

“You’re bluffing.” Paul’s laughter immediately stopped and his face went deadly serious. His entire group tensed as well. “A scrub like you doesn’t know Donovan, or anyone in the Raid Clan for that matter.”

As a fighter, Paul reported to him directly during raids. Ethan could have named dropped Arianna for greater effect, but he didn’t want anyone finding out their connection until his own guild had joined the raid clan.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Ethan swiped through menus and his own name and guild tag appeared above his head.

“Ethan - level 10 Fighter ”

“Or maybe, I lead the scout team that mapped the last several floors and was actually on my way back to town to talk to the clan leadership.” His response was deadly serious, the threat in his voice obvious to any of the idiots in Blood Dragon.

The effect was instantaneous. Several of the guild members went pale, Paul included.

“So maybe,” he paused, “maybe we put this behind us and you let this caravan pass through so I can get back to Startesgarde. And back to actually contributing to getting everyone home.”

He could tell that Paul was trying to think of another option by the look on his face.

The NPCs at this point had all gone blank. They’d been programmed to ignore game mechanics and player conversations such as this.

“Maybe, I’ll just kill you and no one will know.” Paul whispered as he lowered his spear menacingly. No one in his group moved to back him.

“Yeah, that’s definitely the best option. You’d cost me two days of leveling, but as soon as I stepped foot in Grassmere I’d send a private message to Donovan, Arianna, Thomas, anyone I know in the raid clan and your entire guild would be kicked out.” He took a step forward and grabbed Paul’s spear, pulling it directly over his chest. “You still want to kill me? How do you think your guild leader would feel about that?”

Paul continued to stare him down. The Warlock reached for a bone dagger at her waist, but Ethan couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Several heartbeats later, the spear was ripped from his hand.

“Let them through.” He ordered his guild mates. To their credit, no one said anything as they parted.

Ethan nodded at him and then to Halder.

“I’ll go get back in the wagon so we can continue.” He turned and walked back to his own wagon.

Immediately on sitting down the wagon began moving again. Ethan didn’t even check to see what the Blood Dragons were doing, it didn’t matter. He’d already begun sending messages to everyone he’d listed to the bullies.

Griefers like Paul and his lackeys weren’t uncommon in any MMO type game. Players with a lot more power than others that felt like they could do anything they wanted to. Being a member of the Raid Clan or the PvP Guild also conferred a level of immunity from most punishments. But he knew threatening another player, especially one who happened to be as connected as he was, wasn’t tolerated very well. It was just their bad luck they’d encountered him instead of any other number of players. Sam or Miguel would have probably tried to fight back and gone down in a quick spear thrust.

If they’re lucky, Arianna will kick only the five of them and not their entire guild.

His messages sent, he tried to find the somewhat comfortable spot he’d had before and went to sleep for the rest of the ride.