“Alright folks,” Sam said, leaning forward and putting his palms on the table. “That’s the story. I want opinions and options.”

They were back in the meeting room, the same one where not two hours before they’d been discussing the best ways to build up after their success against the revenant. It was amazing, a corner of his brain noted, just how quickly circumstances could utterly change.

“God damn,” Skee muttered from his seat. The goblin trapmaster was tugging the end of his long nose with thumb and forefinger. “About which part, boss? Feeding yourself to a damn dragon, or the fact that the village idiot down there wants you to start a revolution?”

“Both,” Sam said, smirking. “Let’s start with the dragon, because that’s the most pressing issue.”

“We have roughly two hours and nineteen minutes left on that clock,” Cora said, her eyes shining blue as she checked her menus. “You have essence left to spend. How many levels can you gain before facing the creature?”

Sam pulled up his own menu and checked the details. The blue pane and white message text flashed into existence on his glasses display.

Name: Samuel James Tolliver

Race: Human (Unaltered)

Sub Race: Freed Unique Mob

Essence Level: 6

Class: Core Guardian

Subclass: None yet

HP: 400 (100 base +20/level +30/level for class)

MP: 125

To Next Level: 7ex

Exchanges Left: 12ex

“Just two and a bit,” Sam said, sighing. He’d netted more essence in that fight against the revenant and its minions than in the last five years of his life. Not for the first time he saw the appeal in the life of an adventurer, accumulating power through murder. With gains like these, it would have to be almost addictive.

“Not enough to make a real difference in a straight-up fight,” he concluded, closing the menu down. “Not if it’s me doing the fighting.”

“We must have a butt-load of essence and minerals ready to spend,” Sally spoke up, hovering at the foot of the table. “What if we just built a bunch of high-level mobs and swarm the scaly bitch?”

“The bulk of the accumulated essence from the battle against the revenant went to resurrecting Annie and Jackson Tolliver,” Cora said, nodding to the two next to Sam. “We have some small reserves, but not enough to spawn more than a level 15 creature, and that will be insufficient to deal with a dragon who is almost certainly of level 40 or higher, according to Jackson Tolliver.”

“We know where it’s gonna be in two hours,” Leiliana said, rapping the knuckles of her remaining hand on the wooden tabletop. She was the highest-level shield maiden in the dungeon, tall and powerfully-built with short, spikey brown hair. It was astounding to Sam how much her appearance had changed just in the short time she’d become a person instead of a mindless creature.

“What if we set an ambush for it,” she continued. “Hit it when it’s not expecting it. Get the goblins to trap the place, spend whatever minerals and essence we have to turn the place into a firing range, then gut the thing when it shows up?”

“Too many hazards,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Too many moving parts. I don’t want to sacrifice people on what might turn out to be a suicide play. And…” he paused, thinking.

“And the problem isn’t the dragon,” he said after a long moment. “Not really. He’s part of it, but if what he said is true then we’ve got literal armies of high-level mobs marching down on us. We might be able to kill the dragon… But then what? Can we fight off two? Three? A dozen? And what about the stuff we don’t know about? No, we can’t just focus on the dragon. It has to go bigger. We need to prepare—“

He stopped as the thought completed in his brain, and he let out a little laugh.

“We need to prepare for war. Again.”

There was a collective sigh around the table. They’d just finished one war against the revenant. A small war, true, but one that had taken its toll on them. And now, a bare couple days later, here came another one to their doorstep.

“Well, not like we weren’t expecting it,” said Bugruk from his wheelchair. “Just came sooner than we’d hoped is all.”

“I think one priority needs to be getting me linked up with Sally,” Sam said, nodding at the core. “You’ve got abilities I can use, especially if we take Melloram in under our banner. It could function as a forward base, with the dungeon as a fall-back position.”

“No argument from me, Butter-boy. I’ve got everything I need for the ritual.”

“Can we do it before it’s time to meet Quentin?”

“It’ll be tight, but if we rush a couple things I think it’ll work. Figure two hours, if nothing goes wrong.”

“Wait,” Ma frowned. “If nothing goes wrong? What could go wrong?”

“Dunno. Never done it before. Not as a separate part of us, anyway. I guess we’ve had to swap out guardians a few times in the past, but we used to be one person back then, so I got no damn clue what’s gonna happen when me and your little prince there do the nasty.”

“When you what!?”

“Why don’t you just let him eat you?”

Sam blinked and turned to the speaker. The little kobold wasn’t seated at the table, but in a small chair pushed back against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching his elders talk.

It was unusual to add a child to such an important meeting, but Rashun had been integral in getting the other kobolds to throw their lot in with Sam, and the two had developed a friendship over the past week over shared enthusiasm for mana etching and hatred for liches in general.

“Rashun?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows. “What did you say?”

The whole room had gone quiet and was now staring at the boy, who couldn’t have been older than 13, as he stood up and came forward to the table.

“Are you nuts?” Skee asked, not unkindly. “You want a dragon to just munch down on the chief?”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—Eep!” Sally squawked as Char, on the other side of her, whacked the top of her orboid body with her knuckles.

“Hush,” Char said, watching Rashun intently. “Let the boy speak.”

“Well, look,” Rashun said as he clambered up onto the table and started to pace. “He just wants you dead, right? That was his offer? But big bro can’t really die, not unless Aunty Cora does too, right? So what if the dragon doesn’t know that? What if you go to town in a couple hours, let him eat you, fly off, and then poof. You’re back here in like five minutes and he doesn’t realize you’re not dead anymore.”

More silence descended. The adults in the room vacillated between staring incredulously at Rashun and trading thoughtful looks with each other.

“I’ll be damned,” said Bugruk. “Kid might have a point.”

“He did say that the rest of us would be okay if Sam gave himself up,” Leiliana said, frowning at the tabletop. “Can we trust a dragon’s word?”

“Implicitly,” Araxes said. “Dragons are creatures of etiquette and deeply-held honor. Once their word is given, it would be easier to convince them to saw their own heads off with a hacksaw than it would be for them to break it.”

“This has also been my experience,” Pop added, running a fingernail along the underside of his eyepatch.

“I hate this plan and everything about it,” Ma said, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at the world in general. “You all want to feed my baby boy to a dragon?”

“Might be the best plan we have, Ma,” Sam said, focusing on the middle distance as he played the scene out in his mind. “Keeps the dungeon from being attacked, gives us more time to gear up for the invasion…”

“What if whoever sent him after you realizes you’re not dead?” Skee asked. “We ain’t exactly sure of their capabilities. Think they might be watching you?”

“I can stay out of sight in the dungeon,” Sam said, his thoughts racing ahead. “Cora can project maps and information here. And Sally, you’ve got a way to extend the controlled territory of the dungeon, right?”

“Yep,” Sally bobbed in a nod. “A few different ways, actually. ‘Course, you’ve gotta bond to me before we can use them, but once that’s taken care of, yeah, should be fine.”

“And that takes the heat off of us from Quentin and his goons,” Bugruk said. “And gives us more time to prepare for Araxesendenak’s arrival.” The big orc frowned, tapping a finger against his tusk. Then he looked up at Ma.

“Annie, I know you ain’t gonna like me saying this, but it’s a good plan. Uses Sam’s unique skillset and keeps us safe from this shitstorm that’s coming full-on at us.”

“Jackson, be a dear and get up for a moment. I need to use your chair to beat an old friend to death.”

“Ma,” Sam said, covering up a smile.

“Oh, alright. Half to death.”

“It’s a good play, dearest,” Pop said. “Not one I like…” He shot Sam a glance, and there was a whirl of emotions in that eye. “But given everything… It’s a good play.”

“I won’t stay dead long, Ma,” Sam said, and marveled how a phrase that would have been pure lunacy a month ago now sounded like simple truth. “And Quentin said it would be quick.”

Ma slumped in her chair and let out a long hissing breath.

“Alright, fine,” she said after a moment. “But after it’s done I’m going to hunt down that scaly bastard and cram as much dwarven explosive up his ass as will fit between air and breakfast. And then I’m splattering that lizard all over the continent.”

“Don’t worry Annie,” Pearl piped up from where she’d been hovering over the table, taking copious notes. “Sam’s really good at dying. He’s done it a bunch!”

“Thanks Pearl.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Really helping sell the idea, there.”

“Which leaves us with one other question,” said Char from where she’d been sitting next between Leiliana and Sheshek.

Sam sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Melloram.”

“Very useful from a tactical standpoint,” Bugruk said. “Never a bad idea to have a fortified position forward of your main base.”

“They want me to carve out a country for them. Presumably one where they’ll be safe from things like a crazy-evil lich lord.” Sam glanced aside at Araxes. “No offense.”

“I barely listen to you on the best days,” Araxes flipped a hand. “You may continue your supercilious blathering.”

“Would adding them as allies strain our resources?” Thrash asked.

Cora’s eyes narrowed in calculation. “It is likely that, should we take them in under our banner, their own resources would be added to ours. Mineral stores, food-producing facilities… I do not know how the dungeon might assimilate all the buildings exactly, but I believe it likely that there will actually be a net gain in production.”

“More workers, too,” Skee added. “Probably of a decent level. Be able to get more stuff done. Maybe even build the town out, make it into a going concern.”

“But we’d also be taking on the difficulties that come with it,” Sheshek pointed out. “It is unlikely that you will find the kind of unity amongst the townsfolk as you enjoy within the dungeon.”

“Unity?” Sam arched an eyebrow at the shaman. “I’m remembering some pretty intense debates that happened between your people and me. You’re putting that under the heading of unity?”

“Yes. Which should give you some indication of just how difficult it might be. That Milthorne woman, for instance. She will be within your borders as well, unless she chooses to abdicate her position. And there will be those like her, supporters of the lich, opponents of you. And they will still be, technically, allies if you bring the town into your fold.”

Sam nodded slowly. “I hear you. But… There’s something else you’re all missing, too.”

That drew looks from up and down the table.

“What do you mean, Sam?” Pearl asked, hovering. “Sounds like everyone’s got a really good grasp on it.”

“Not quite. I didn’t see it myself until just now.” And damn if Blaine hadn’t put him in a nice little trap. He wondered if the councilman had done it intentionally. “It’s a question of should we bring them under our banner, sure. But deeper than that, it’s do we stand by and let the lich kill them.”

That got a reaction. Eyes went wide and heads cocked. And Char swore softly under her breath. She saw it.

“Think about it,” Sam said, shoving back his chair and rising to his feet. “They’ve already declared their intention to be free of Araxesendenak. They came to me and asked for asylum. What do you think the lich will do when he finds that out? And be sure he’ll find it out, thanks to those people you just mentioned Sheshek. Araxes? What will he do?”

“Raze the town and slaughter all those who chose disloyalty,” the lich said without hesitation. “He may be satisfied with merely killing them quickly. But… Samuel, you have likely angered him on a personal level. He will view their coming to you as treason of the highest order. Their deaths will… Not be swift. Nor gentle.”

“Aw hell,” Skee grunted. “I didn’t even think of that.”

“That sneaky son of a bitch,” Ma growled. “And he did it in front of everyone. He’s forcing this on us.”

“Might be he did it because that’s what he thinks is best and safest for his people,” Pop rumbled. “I can respect a man who plays all-out to try and protect his own.”

Ma snorted. “I’d rather mount his dick on a pike.”

“So… I guess we don’t really have a choice then, do we?” Pearl said, fluttering down to stand on the table. “Sam, you’re not gonna say ‘no’, ‘cause that’ll mean a bunch of people you just saved from another undead meanie are gonna get killed. Right?”

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. He’d been outmanuevered, either by accident or by someone who knew how to think slippery and fast.

“Yeah Pearl.” He just nodded. “You’re right.”

Decision made, his eyes snapped open. “Alright then. We’ve got our answers. Sally, get ready for that ritual. Then we’ll deal with the dragon, then we’ll have a sit-down with Blaine and let him know what we’ve decided.” He paused. “Do me a favor,” he said. “All of you here, put your heads together and come up with both a plan for defending Melloram, and see if you can spot any more of these trap decisions coming at me. I don’t want to get blind-sided again if I can help it.”

He got a chorus of affirmatives in response.

“Good. Then let’s get moving. Clock’s ticking, and I’ve got a dinner date with a dragon.”