The hobos and freed slaves had formed a pile of dead mobs in the main burial chamber. Beside them, there was a second pile loaded with looted weapons, armor, potions, a large cauldron filled with coins, and an assortment of food items like bread and hardtack.

The chamber itself was a wreck.

The door to the outside world had been reformed during the tethering process, and the surrounding walls were repaired, but the rubble from the explosion was scattered all over the room. Large chunks of stone had gouged out holes in the floors, and shards of stone coffins were littered everywhere.

Though they had all been joyous at their victory, a somber tone overtook them now.

Grippa and Luda had arranged seven coffins at the center of the room, and the bodies of their fallen comrades had been placed inside. A couple more had died initially, but like Grippa, they were actual players and had respawned once the quest was over. The others were permanently lost.

Luda stood at the end of the row, and Grippa stood behind her, his large hand on the goblin’s shoulder as she mourned her lost partner.

As Gunnar and Em strode across the room, all eyes followed them.

Followed Gunnar, mostly.

He reached Luda and held out his hand to her. She gripped it tightly, tears in her eyes. Gunnar had only been to a couple funerals IRL, and he had never quite known what to say to the survivors of the deceased.

“I’m sorry,” was all he thought of now.

“Kyrev longed for a place like this,” Luda said softly. “I wish he could have seen our victory.”

“He died to make it happen.”

Luda shook her head. “He died before the battle truly began. That is what I hate most. Guess that’s what I get for being with an NPC.”

Gunnar merely nodded.

“I won’t forget what Sykes and his crew did. This en’t over. Not until they’re totally destroyed.”

He had a feeling Sykes would feel the same way about them too.

“We must grow strong,” Gunnar said. “Then, we can think of greater revenge.”

Gunnar paused at each coffin and bowed his head to each of their fallen comrades. The others followed suit, a slow funeral procession across the center of the chamber.

Sheira and the others had joined them, quickly taking one of the new entrances once Gunnar sent them the location. There were eighteen present in total, including Gunnar and Em.

It was a respectable place to start, assuming they all actually wanted to join his faction.

Once the procession was done, Gunnar stepped forward. It still felt odd, but he no longer needed to be told the others were looking to him for leadership.

“My friends, you all fought bravely today. The cruel and the powerful of this city wanted to take this place and enslave us all. They thought we would just roll over and die, but we showed them how powerful we can be. However, this victory did not come without sacrifice. Our friends and loved ones gave their lives, and for that, we honor them.”

Gunnar motioned for the coffins to be closed, then Grippa and a couple of the others began interring the coffins, sliding them into a section of burial nooks near the entrance. A torch was lit in front of each one.

“Our friends died for a future they did not get to see. We will continue to honor them by what we do going forward. We come from many places, but we have proven that we work well together. I can think of no better way to honor the sacrifices of those we’ve lost than to create a future worthy of their sacrifice.”

Heads nodded around the room.

“I am forming a new faction, a group composed of those this city—this world—has screwed over. And I would be honored for you all to become the first members. I understand if some of you have your own lives in mind, but I think we have the makings of something special here. This crypt may be in shambles, but it is safe, and with a little work, this could become our home. We could be our own family.”

They glanced around at one another, as though evaluating the wisdom of such a pairing. But there were no objections. They were a motley crew, there was no doubt about it, but they had a lot of potential.

Gunnar sent them all a notification, with the option to accept his invitation.

“The Cryptids?” Sheira asked aloud.

The Crypt Keeper grimaced again at the name and offered the Maldan woman a nod that suggested they were on the same side in this matter.

But Hank the Kobold guffawed. “Cryptids! Because this is crypt and we are idiots! Aha!”

Gunnar chuckled. “Er, sure, something like that.”

“I like it,” said Grippa.

“Self-flagellating!” said Hank.

“I think you mean self-deprecating,” Gunnar corrected. “But it’s really just a pun.”

“A what?”

“Never mind.”

[Congratulations! Your faction, the Cryptids, has several new members.]

As the hobos and slaves accepted his invitation, a new window popped up in his HUD.

Faction: Cryptids

Role: Founder

Members: 12

Morale: Tired, but hopeful

Description: With your victory over a common foe, you’ve established enough rapport to form a true alliance between these disparate groups. Your followers have lost much, but this new faction has offered them much needed hope. There are many opportunities ahead, but also many ways this could go dismally wrong. Your leadership will determine the trajectory of the faction. Don’t screw it up, or they’ll screw you up.

The chamber filled with excited murmurings as the final few joined the faction.

“Who will lead us?” Cork asked. “You?”

Gunnar had been pondering this, and didn’t like the idea of all authority coming to him.

He shook his head. “Not alone. I may be founding the group, but we will be led by a council of people who have proven they have what it takes to help this place thrive. I’ll be on the council, and so will Em and the Crypt Keeper. I thought perhaps Cork ought to represent the hobos, and maybe Hank could represent the slaves from the ship.”

Cork eyed Hank like a youngster who had intruded on his pristinely-cut lawn.

Hank grinned but shook his head. “I understand. I am good fighter. But I think Grippa is, perhaps, better leader.”

Gunnar looked over at Grippa. The mountain orc was a player, as was Cork, so there could be some definite advantages there, though he also knew from his own past gaming experience that NPCs tended to be easier to please.

“I accept,” Grippa said, thumping a fist against his chest.

“We may need more as time goes on,” Gunnar said. “Who knows, we may form a legit guild of our own someday.”

The Crypt Keeper scowled at this.

“But we will be very selective about who else is brought into this place,” Gunnar added. “We lost a lot trying to protect it, and I would hate to lose any more, if we had to move the crypt again. We must be very careful about coming and going, particularly from the two entrances that open into Thailen. I’m afraid you’ll need the permission of a council member to leave for the time being. After the chaos we caused for Sykes, he’s going to have lookouts in the city. We all need to lay low for awhile. I’d like a record kept of all who leave. Cork, why don’t you be in charge of that for now?”

Cork nodded satisfactorily.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do in the crypt, anyway,” Gunnar added. “After all the Crypt Keeper has done for us, the least we can do is make this place look respectable again. The back entrance leads to a cave in the woods. I want hunting parties formed immediately. The rest will start cleaning up the place. Then, we need to start thinking longer term. We can sleep on the floor for a little while, but if this place is going to become our home, I want it to feel like it. I’m talking individual beds, maybe even huts. We’ll need a team in charge of kitchen duties. And anything else you can think of. Everyone contributes based on their classes and affinities. Let’s convene our first council meeting in a couple of days. Grippa and Cork, you know your people best. I want a list of possible roles for everyone.”

Grippa and Cork nodded to one another, and Gunnar felt that it was likely best that Grippa had taken the position rather than Hank. As amusing as it was to see Cork bristle at everything the kobold said.

“What about the loot?” Hank asked.

“I want the coins distributed evenly amongst all Cryptids,” Gunnar said. “And that should be the same going forward. We may have different roles, but as long as we all contribute, we all reap the benefits. The weapons and armor should make a good start for a Cryptid armory. I want everyone to be well-trained in at least one weapon. Other random stuff should go to the loot room, for now. We’ll assign someone the role of managing faction items. Potions and things like that ought to be distributed based on the types of quests people are going on, but we should have a decent start at supplies. As soon as the loot’s taken care of, spend the night how you want. You’ve earned it. And Cork tells me there’s some hobo wine to be shared.”

Excited murmurs echoed around the chamber as the Cryptids began distributing the loot.

Furin the dwarf approached Em and Gunnar and handed them each a handful of coins.

[You have looted 114 Imperial coins!]

“Is that amount right?”

“Of course,” Furin said. “Is it not enough?”

“That nearly doubles what I’ve got. You didn’t give me extra or anything, did you?”

Furin shook his head. “Nah, you all took out a lot of mobs, and quite a few were decent levels too. There was a good haul.”

“Wow,” Gunnar said. “That’s great!”

“A good start,” Cork said, joining them. “Good for morale. I told yeh, Gunnar had promise.”

Furin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I appreciate all you did outside the crypt,” Gunnar said to Furin. “That diversion went as good as we could have hoped.”

The dwarf shrugged. “I just wish I could have seen you take out that dill hole, Kohli.”

“After what he did to you,” Gunnar said, “he got what was coming to him.”

Furin grimaced, likely recalling the way the thief had shanked him back at the hobos’ old warehouse.

As soon as Cork and Furin moved on, Hank came over.

“I’ve got something I think you should have.”

“Oh yeah?” Gunnar asked.

Hank produced Kohli’s enchanted blunderbuss, still illuminated by glowing runes on the barrel.