(Author Note: Perhaps at some point I’ll get a map drawn, as I find the descriptions lacking, even if it isn’t very important)

Cobbletown was carved into three unique districts. The Southern district was home to establishments like the Watering Hole, and was where the group slept, farmed and ate cake. The Northern district appeared much like Southern, except that the defenders garrison, the lord’s keep, and a few other administrative buildings took up much of its downtown. Splitting the two districts through the middle was a long strip of tall structures, containing shops and commercial buildings, known as the merchant district.

Edge hadn’t spent much time in the Northern District, mostly because rumour said that’s where the Gambits had set up their operations. There was something about the Gambits, whom he had never met in person, that made them particularly scary. Anyone who was willing to sacrifice other people for the sake of a game, even in a death game, had to have something dangerously wrong with their thinking.

The Northern Gate was a replica of the Western, including the pair of gate guards standing outside on either side of the passage. Edge leaned against a nearby stone wall, waiting for his group to arrive. Two full parties of five Gambits walked passed solemnly, without so much as looking at him. In both groups, only one player wore any armor, but each person carried a basic weapon that ranged from small wooden bows, to daggers and swords. The serious expressions on their faces showed both fear and bravery. If these shaky kneed guys were taking on bandits, then perhaps he was wrong about the crossroads being their next hunting grounds.

Daphne observed Edge hiding against a nearby building. “Are we practicing hiding today?”

Edge was startled. “I wasn’t hiding, I was waiting.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” noted Sakura, as Edge’s avatar fluttered out of near invisibility. “Are you certain you’re not a rogue?” Edge actually looked a bit disturbed by her comment.

He was sure.

“This is exciting, I haven’t left the city since I got here,” said Belladonna.

Edge wanted to say something cheerful, but the moods of the passing Gambits must have been contagious. “There are bandits through those gates,” he said. “I’ve seen two full parties of Gambits go out, since I got here. There are probably more,” he added with warning tones.

“Don’t be scared, Edge. I’ll protect you,” said Daphne.

He wasn’t afraid; he was just trying to convey the seriousness of the situation.

“We all will,” said Sakura, giving a special stare to Belladonna.

‘Someone should place a signpost,’ thought Edge, after half an hour of trekking down the road without finding any bandits. The familiar green rolling hills and bright sunlight were a pleasant change from Cobbletown’s grey twilight. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the great blue sky, and the rich earthy colours, even the smell of fresh grass.

Daphne received a popup window. “I can hear sounds of combat from up ahead,” she conveyed. “That way,” she added, pointing beyond the nearest bend in the winding road.

“Okay, people, we’re going in,” stated Edge. “Everyone stay behind me, and we’ll do a count before we proc any abilities.” He adjusted the round wooden shield on his arm, abandoning the road to climb the grassy hill between them and the sounds of battle.

A scream echoed over the hilltop. Edge told himself not to rush, but he couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter if the scream came from a player or an NPC, it was still the sound of a person in pain or peril, and it triggered a hasty responsiveness.

Nothing could have prepared them for the scene unfolding in the valley below. A pair of merchant wagons were stopped along the roadway. Two dozen caravan guards in blue tunics, wielding swords and shields, spread out around the wagons, protecting their charges. Half a dozen bandits in green and brown leathers were assaulting the nearest wagon, peppering the defenders with crossbow bolts, while a full group of Gambits engaged those guards defending the second farther wagon.

Edge spotted the sultry Cassandra, holding a crossbow and flourishing her green cloak.

“Get down, hide,” Edge ordered, dropping into the tall grass. Belladonna was late in following the order. He’d forgotten that she never trained her hiding with them. Hopefully being a ranger would give her a bonus of some kind.

“The Gambits are working with the bandits,” said Daphne, angrily.

“Why not?” retorted Edge. “They are all mobs.”

“It’s just wrong. We are supposed to be the good guys,” she explained.

“Geckos, giant rats, merchants, guards. It doesn’t matter. They are all digital fakes made from data. They’re not real,” said Edge, harshly.

“That doesn’t make it right,” said Daphne.

“I think . . . Edge is right,” said Belladonna. It was extremely unusual for her to disagree with Daphne, on anything. “Real people are the only thing that matters.”

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” chastised Sakura. “These bandits could be like robin hood and his merry men. Anyone who’s taken the time to speak with an NPC inside Cobbletown knows that the Lord of Cobbletown is not well liked.”

That was true, thought Edge.

“Are we going to help the bandits then?” asked Daphne.

“No, I don’t think we should interfere,” said Edge. “Let’s just watch for now, and see if they lead us back to a quest turn-in.”

No one had any objections to his plan, thankfully.

Four of the Gambits were still wearing their noob clothes, but seemed to be holding their own against the caravan guards. They used abilities whenever their cooldowns reset, which was good, except that they were missing out on opportunities to chain their skills as a group.

The fifth Gambit was obviously the leader, or at least had better equipment than the others. The Gambit leader wore a large wooden barrel as a chest piece, with holes in the sides for his arms, and a hollow bottom for his leather clad legs. Atop his head was a metal bucket, with a visor cut into it, to see through. He employed a large two handed sword as his weapon, which made Edge a little jealous. His ability was creating a halo of light around his allies, though what it was doing was impossible to know-even if Edge had access to their health and mana bars. He silently cursed the gods (developers).

The battle was decidedly one-sided, the bandits and Gambits quickly eliminating the caravan guards on the far side, and working their way to the front.

A loud horn sounded in the distance, echoing through the valley. Cassandra actually grinned at the disturbance, twirling a single finger in the air above her head. The bandits recognized the signal, stopped their bombardment, and faded one by one, hiding or disappearing.

The Gambits were spooked, clearly not prepared for the turn of events. Some of the group started to run, while the leader tried to rally them to finish off the last of the merchant guards. One of the Gambits swung an unruly mace, faltered mid-swing stumbling to the ground and winking from existence as a guard’s sword pierced his chest. He dissolved in an instant, replaced by a grey tombstone.

Someone had died. It was the first time Eugene had ever witnessed a death, in Levia or otherwise. It was one thing hearing about people not making it, or Gambits and their recruits risking themselves. It was quite another to see it for himself. How cruel and pointless. Some part of the quest had changed unexpectedly, and already it cost a life. And here he was, waiting, hiding, and watching people die.

Edge sprinted down the hill, quitting his cover. Caravan guards or bandits, none of them compared to the lives of real people. He shield bashed the back of the first guard he came upon, knocking it to the ground. Pandemonium rained down upon a neighboring cluster of guards, as a firebomb exploded in the center of their formation, three flags were all that remained. Sakura, the fire sorceress, was not to be trifled with.

Edge was too late. The last of the Gambit followers who stayed behind with Bucket Head was cut down by a guard. The gruesome bloody visage of the elf, only lasted a fraction of a second before being replaced by grey stone. It wasn’t an image Eugene was soon to forget. But he couldn’t stop now. There was one more survivor, and Bucket Head was being pressed hard by the two remaining caravan guards, who swung their long swords in tandem like tireless robots.

Edge plunged into the fray, using his patented shield punch maneuver to smash the nearest guard in the back of the head. It felt good when it connected, almost like a sneak attack.

Bucket Head fell to the ground, and like a round turtle, was having trouble standing up. The last guard raised his sword to deal a final coup de grace.

Edge couldn’t interpose himself in time, the angles were no good. And even a tackle might not stop the guard’s attack. Desperately, he jumped through the air shield first crashing into his target, the wooden barrel itself. It burst from the impact into splinters of shattered plank, sending Bucket Head sprawling across the grass, and away from danger.

Edge heaved a sigh of relief that he hadn’t dealt Bucket Head enough damage to kill him. Two arrows sprung upon the last guard’s back and it was vanquished.

A second horn call, much closer now, rang out. On the opposite side of the valley, a contingent of Cobbletown defenders appeared in a stretched line upon the horizon. Their leader raised his sword into the air, and his men charged down the hillside.

“Bollux,” said Edge, in overt dismay, cursing into the dirt road.

Edge picked himself up, as fast as his speed would allow. Keeping a close eye on the charging soldiers, he reached out a hand to the nearby barrel-less Bucket Head. His hand was touching something squishy.

“Where do you think you’re touching!” yelled an angry feminine voice.

Edge shockingly retracted his arm. A buxom blonde human woman now lay where he was sure Bucket Head was a split second ago. In an outfit of dark rouge noob pants, and only a strip of cloth around her chest, she was surrounded by scraps of what remained of her once glorious barrel armor. “We need to get out of here,” he said. “Take my hand.”

Waiting on their cooldowns to unleash havoc amongst the oncoming defenders, the three girls didn’t even look phased by the oncoming rush of metal clad soldiers. They really should have looked afraid. There were way too many to fight, Edge realized. “Run!” he yelled at his group of fools. They looked at each other, and nodded consent, retreating back up the hill. Was every order he gave going to be discussed in committee before it was followed?

The barrel-less blonde was staring at the defenders barreling down on them.

“Hurry, snap out of it,” he commanded, again reaching out a hand. She took it this time.

They met up with Sakura, the slowest, halfway up the hill. “Healing song,” he called to Daphne up ahead. Though only Bucket Head had taken damage, not knowing her life points, he didn’t want to risk losing her. But would the song work on someone who wasn’t a party member?

A third horn echoed out over the valley. But this one came from the top of the hill they were climbing. Their escape route had been cut off, and they were undoubtedly surrounded.

Belladonna nocked an arrow, and Daphne followed suit.

“No,” Edge commanded. They were trapped and outnumbered with no way to know how powerful a Cobbletown defender would be. It was possible their group wouldn’t even be a match for one of them. Sometimes town guards were created at max level, to keep the peace.

“What are we supposed to do, die on our knees?” asked an irritable Belladonna.

“We’re running out of time,” said Sakura, stating the perfectly clear.

“Edge, what should we do?” Daphne asked.

He was the leader. The lives of the women around him were relying on him being able to make the right decision. “We surrender,” he suggested.

“What?!” coughed Belladonna.

“Look, they are the good guys, right? If we surrender, they might leave us alone,” he explained, quickly. “Put your weapons in your inventory, and put up your hands. Don’t do anything, and definitely don’t attack them.”

The battle cries died down as the footmen reached the wagons. A rider in the red and gold colours of Cobbletown, trod around his men to stop just in front of the five surrendered combatants.

Raylor, Captain of the Guard, was an oily, brutish looking sort of man. He dismounted from his horse with the ease of experience vaunted by men who’d ridden to battle on war trained steeds. “Look at what we have here boys, bandits.”

The men jeered, throwing taunts.

“We’re not bandits,” said Edge. “But we surrender,” he added, just to make it perfectly clear. Raylor was wrapped up somehow in a scheme with Cassandra and the bandits. Edge only hoped that whatever corruption was afoot, it hadn’t gone so far as to make Raylor capable of indiscriminate killings.

Raylor paused to consider his position, which worried Edge a great deal. NPC’s were supposed to be computer programs, digital robots. If the artificial intelligence in Levia was advanced enough to create a fully interactive AI, then . . . well . . . hardest difficulty had just been upgraded to uber nightmare.

“Chain them in irons,” ordered Raylor. Once the shackles on their hands and feet were secure, the guard captain announced, “In Cobbletown, bandits get to choose between the executioner’s axe, and the noose.” His men roared a cheer at his bravado.

(Last one for today guys! So many rl things to catch up on!)