The air in the tunnel was thick with dust, giving the dimly-lit space a freshly excavated feel. The light that shone in behind us reflected against the tiny particles of rock as they hung thick in the air, a haze that danced around our avatars as we began to make our descent. The tunnel had quickly become a decline, and a treacherous one, at that. Whoever had dug it had evidently done so with little consideration for the unfortunate souls who would have to traverse the bastard thing, leaving us to navigate a jagged uneven path that did little to speed our journey. As we advanced, the light behind us quickly became a distant memory.

Samusk led the way, granting me another small reminder of just how useful the dwarf could potentially be to me. Having a guide with the night-vision trait while navigating a dark, poorly lit tunnel wasn’t exactly a bad thing, even if he was increasingly getting on my nerves. I didn’t have a torch of any kind (such things cost money or mana, and I lacked in the ability to dispense either). But if I needed to go mob hunting in order to pay for my training, the dwarf’s inherit skill could prove to be invaluable to me.

As we ventured deeper, I was thankful to learn that orbs of energy had been dotted along the cavern to guide our way: constructs of pure mana (or so the dwarf had informed me) a sharp reminder of just how neglected my own mana skill was, thus far.

Can I generate light like this? I wondered.

I knew that my ability to wield mana was somehow linked to my swordsmanship, but I hadn’t a damn clue how to activate the skill. Samusk was no help to me in this matter: as a non-combatant, he knew as little about channeling the mysterious substance as I did. I made a promise to myself to practice the skill in my cell, later.

Who knows, maybe I’ll even get lucky and blow up the dwarf in the process.

While I didn’t understand the odd energy or its composition, what was clear was that the floating orbs had been put in place to guide us. Alas, to say that they were sparsely placed along the tunnel was like saying Samusk was a little bit untrustworthy. The bare minimum had been provided, no doubt a secondary consideration to lighting the lair itself. Not ideal when you’re in a hurry.

We pushed on, the only words spoken being an occasional exclamation as one of us scratched our unprotected flesh upon the walls of the jagged cave. Eventually, the dwarf turned and broached the subject I’d been expecting since we encountered Kriabal.

“The warlock called ye a contractor. How did ye manage to gain that status, then?”

At least where this was concerned, I had nothing to hide. “The raid party made me a contractor when they issued me with a quest to assist them. Look, I’ll show you.”

I kneeled down (carefully) and touched the grey icon that hovered above my shoulder. Its history opened, displaying my contractors’ badge, a red ‘X’ marking its cancellation. Samusk almost choked when he saw the logo.

“Hells bells, lad. That’s the bloody organization we’re tryin’ to join. Most powerful gang in the prison and ye’ve already got yer foot in the door? Why didn’t ye say?

“It faded after the fight,” I replied with a shrug. “I didn’t realize the connection to Kronan. Hell, I didn’t even know who he was, at the time. I was just happy they didn’t sever my ties to the party before I gained the XP boost from the boss battle.”

“We can use this to our advantage,” the dwarf smirked, his grumpy expression finally retreating from his furry face. “If this ‘General Nyx’ can vouch for ye, this could seriously put us on Kronan’s radar.”

“That’s great,” I replied. And it was. Because if I was on a mission to kill a Dungeon Warden, there were worse things to have on my side than an army of powerful barbarians who happened to owe me a favor.

Suddenly it occurred to me: perhaps Siriso wasn’t trying to throw me into a boss chamber, after all. Was it possible that his intention had only been to get me close to the raid party? Killing off his would-be assassin made no fucking sense, after all. But that consideration only led to another question: why? Was the sneaky goblin angling to get me into Kronan’s gang right from the start? Or was I being sent to them to meet one player in particular? Did the crafty priest have another man on the inside? And if so, how the hell was I supposed to find him, if I couldn’t discuss the details of my quest with anyone? I had too many theories and not enough answers. It was all turning into a bit of a headache.

“What’s wrong,” asked the dwarf, seeing the look of concern on my face. Unable to voice any of my true concerns, I threw him a false one.

“I ah, still don’t understand how this helps to get you into Kronan’s gang,” I declared. (In truth, the dwarf’s future was the least of my worries.) “Are you going to use that impressive charisma of yours to sweet talk them into letting you join up? Or are you secretly a barbarian in disguise? I can’t really imagine you in a skull codpiece. I don’t particularly want to, either.”

“Never you mind that,” he snapped. “I have plans…”

I’ll bet you do. And a lot more of them than you’re letting on.

“Well, you’d better not be relying on your charisma,” I added. “Based on your interactions with the warlock, I’m starting to think that it might be faulty.”

“Him? Pfffft! I wasn’t tryin’ to get on his good side.”

“No shit. Why were you so rude to him? Surely we need all the allies we can get.”

“Warlocks are only one step up from necromancers, lad. You want my advice, you’ll stay well clear of that sort.”

“That’s still no reason to be rude to him,” I rebuked. “We may find that we need him, down the line. And hang on, now that I think about it, you weren’t exactly social with the young apprentice I met either, or the Knight.”

“Quit your whinin’, we’re almost at the boss lair,” was the dwarf’s blunt reply.

I was beginning to suspect that he wasn’t so averse to the people I was associating with, as he was to the fact that I was making my own alliances. He needed me, after all. To that end, it was hardly inconceivable that he was trying to keep me from finding myself another ally, and leaving him in the lurch. I couldn’t afford anything holding me back, not with Siriso’s quest hanging over me. I would word the question carefully when the time was right, because there was something more pressing to consider: I could finally see a literal light at the end of the tunnel.

“Thank the gods,” I replied, immediately slipping on a loose rock and cutting my knee. “OOOWWW! Bugger! The sooner I get my hands on some armor, the better. Damn, I should have asked the warlock if he had any armor-plated chest protectors. I’d really like to put my nipples away-”

“Hush, lad,” cut in the dwarf, before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“What’s wrong? Are you upset? Is it because you secretly like my nipples?”

“Suppose we better get this over with,” mumbled my employer, ignoring my continued attempts to wind him up.

“Get what over with?”

“We could run into general Nyx down there, and we need to be ready…”

“Oi, answer me you little prick, get what over with?”

“Stage two of my plan,” he replied, with yet another sigh. “I need ye to enslave me.”

“To… what?” I gasped.

“Ye asked how I was goin’ to join a gang? Well, this is yer answer. I’ll be ridin’ on yer coat-tails, lad. As yer slave, I get to go where yeh go, includin’ if ye happen to join a gang. This move was always inevitable… noobs tend to stick together, but as ye get stronger, our alliance is only goin’ to look stranger, even with yer dependence on my eyes. This is our best way to hitch my wagon to yers while avoidin’ unwanted attention.”

“You’re willingly offering yourself up to me as my slave? Samusk, I haven’t known you for long, but that doesn’t sound like you at all.” I hesitated, trying my best to read his face in the dim light. “What else are you getting out of this?”

“The warm fuzzy feelin’ of knowin’ that I’m helpin’ my fellow man,” he replied.

“I honestly can’t believe that you managed to say that with a straight face. Give me the real answer, or I’m going back to bed.”

“I turned and began to make my way back, just to let him know that I meant business. I was tired of the dwarf deciding that everything was ‘need to know’, and that I didn’t need to know anything. What I did know, was that I was his meal ticket. If he was prepared to go this far to stay by my side, he needed me more than he was prepared to admit.

“Wait!” cried Samusk, grabbing at my trouser leg with his stubby hands. He sighed again. “You know, I’m really startin’ to regret pickin’ muscle with half a brain.”

I thanked him for the sort-of compliment and gestured for him to continue.

“Yer right, that isn’t the only benefit I get. If you own me, I’m no longer responsible for my own actions, okay?”

“Which means...?”

The dwarf turned away, unable to look me in the eye as he spoke. “You take the rep loss for every questionable act that you ‘order’ me to commit.”

“I see. So, I’d essentially become your buffer, absorbing the rep damage on your behalf. Were you going to tell me this before, or after I agreed?”

“Relax, Kronan has a high rep anyway. It’s not like we were gonna take a hit to your rep by joinin’ him.”

Hmmm. But if we happen to fail in that endeavor, and end up hooking up with a less reputable gang, its double damage for me, right?

“Look, like it or not, ye can’t perceive shit. And with all the charisma of a turd that won’t flush, ye need a spokesman, too. Ye need me at yer side as much as I need you.”

“Like at the duel?” I asked, accusingly.

“Fuck, not this again. I was protectin’ yer respawn point, lad. I already told ye that.”

I was about to say all right, I give up when a thought suddenly occurred to me.

“Wait a minute. If I make you my slave, everyone will think you’re my prison bitch. I don’t want the other prisoners to think I have a fetish for small hairy men. I like elves. Female elves with a whopping big pair of ah-”

I’d like to say that the word I was grasping for was ‘stats’, but I would be lying. Thankfully Samusk interrupted me, saving me from embarrassing myself further.

“Oh, get over yerself, what is this fuckin’ obsession ye have with dwarves bein’ used for that seedy purpose? Don’t answer that, I don’t actually care. What I do care about is not bein’ any later for work, so we need to get this done before we enter that bloody chamber. If this General Nyx fella does approach us, he needs to know that we’re a package deal right from the start.”

“Fine,” I sighed. But only because I saw his logic. That didn’t mean I had to like it. “How does this work, then.”

“It’s very straightforward. Jus’ order me to bend the knee. The system will do the rest.”

I had to admit, straightforward or not it all felt a bit awkward. I’d wanted to be the guy with the lackeys for a change, but not like this.

“Um, would you like to kneel before me? Please? Nothing sexual, mind.”

“Fucking hell, lad. Are yeh askin’ me to propose or are you makin’ me yer slave? We’re trying to develop the slaveowner trait, you idiot. And slave-masters are not known for sayin’ please.”

“Bend the knee, slave,” I announced, my confident tone betrayed by my awkward expression. As the dwarf obliged, a new message ran through my head…

-[ You have acquired the slaveowner trait, level I. You speak, and people obey. XP required to reach level II, 100. Warning: binding others into forced servitude is an immoral act, and this trait has lowered your reputation: rep -2. ]-

-[ Congratulations: You have successfully acquired your first slave. Username: Samusk. Recruitment penalty: rep -1. Warning: this slave has a higher leadership stat than his current master. Control may be difficult to exert. Suggestion: Increase your leadership to increase your control over your existing slaves. ]-

Rep -3? Oh, come on.

I let the dwarf know exactly how I felt about the unexpected increase to my sentence. He, in turn, suggested that if I thought I could just wander around enslaving folks without getting a bad name, I needed all the help navigating this game that I could get. Begrudgingly, I had to agree with him on that. I just wasn’t sure that the guy who currently screwed me out of all my rep points was the best person to trust for guidance, anymore. Oh well, there was no point crying over it now. I’d already taken the hit to my stats. My only choice now was to try and get something positive out of it.

As I fought to suppress my rage, I noticed a visible change to the dwarf’s avatar. The small grey shield that had hovered above his shoulder to mark him as an independent had now been replaced by a floating pixelated image of my face, no doubt marking him as my ‘property’.

“So… that’s it, then?” I asked, too weary to argue any further. What was the point of letting him know how annoyed I was? He obviously didn’t care. He’d got what he wanted.

“Yep,” Samusk replied, puffing out his chest. “Yer now the proud owner of the prison’s sexiest dwarf.”

“Please don’t say that again,” I groaned. “People will talk.”

“People will talk anyway. But chin up, lad. Believe it or not, I did you a favor, too. The slaveowner trait might jus’ make ye more appealin’ to Kronan.”

This piqued my interest. “Really? How so?”

“Well let’s face it… what leader doesn’t crave troops with 100% obedience? Havin’ a slave owner among yer allies is a great way to keep yer troops in line without havin’ to get yer own hands dirty. Folks like you provide folks like him with a buffer for the reputation damage that comes with yer new trait.”

“Seriously? That’s supposed to make me feel better? It sounds to me like I’m just becoming everyone else’s shit sponge.”

“Well let’s face it, yer hardly the brains of the operation, ye have to pull yer weight somehow.”

“I’d kinda hoped your new role would have made you more… I dunno, respectful?”

“Respect is earned, lad, so I’m yer slave in name only. I’m still yer boss, and don’t you forget it.” With that, he turned and resumed his advance toward the light.

I took a moment to curse him, his ancestors, and whatever continent he sprang from IRL, then reluctantly followed. So far, I’d gained two abilities (mana manipulation and slaveowner) that I had no idea how to operate. Still, if I could get my head around the latter, perhaps I could raise an army against the Dungeon Warden, steal Kronan’s troops and make them my own…

And with a -1 rep penalty for every slave taken, damn myself in the process, I thought to myself with a shudder. What sort of man would that make me? Was I really prepared to go that far to escape Siriso’s clutches? I cursed the goblin priest for sabotaging my redemption and moved on.

As we approached the end of the tunnel, we stepped over (or in Samusk’s case climbed over) the skeletons that Kriabal had mentioned. The bones looked ancient. Although humanoid in their proportions, I could only assume that they had once belonged to a pack of the game’s NPCs. Players generally tidied up after themselves, thanks to their ability to respawn. I stopped to scavenge what I could from their gristly corpses, hoping to find an item or two that the weary warlock may have missed, but Kriabal was right: their swords were little more than clumps of rust. Their durability all but spent, they were barely holding together and would probably disintegrate on impact with even the weakest of mobs. I considered testing that theory on the dwarf (he’d certainly given me good cause to) but he was already scrambling over the final rocky hurdle that led to journey’s end.

“We’re here,” called my newly-appointed (if not particularly respectful) slave, adding: “mind the step.”

As we dropped down into the chamber, I instantly recognized the vast space before me. It was much better lit than it had been previously: mana orbs now flooded the entire chamber with unknown energies, confirming that this was indeed where the bulk of the magical resource had been allocated. Bathed in their light, the floor mosaics and imposing metal statues were unmistakable. As were the trails of blood that I’d witnessed being painted across the floor using the stricken bodies of the powerless raid party, as its members were dragged to the maw of the beast that had once resided here. Yup, there was no question about it: this was the boss lair where I’d encountered the shadow stallion.

As we ventured into the chamber, I prayed that things went a lot more smoothly for me this time. I couldn’t have known that I would soon be facing my most dangerous challenge yet.