Reaching the teleportation rune in the center of town, Isaac swiped open his map, locating the Resurrection Shrine he first spawned at. Tapping it lightly, he selected “Teleport to Shrine” from the resulting drop menu. With a flash of azure, he vanished, reappearing right where he first logged in only the day before.
Back where I started, huh? Isaac attempted to muse aloud. Then, realising his SNEAK was still active he switched it off, smiling at the resulting sound of the grass rustling beneath him. Opening his menu again, he noticed a team request from Arthur and Jason. Tapping it, he smiled wryly at the fact that Arthur had already assigned himself as team leader. Ignoring the request, he added both of them to his friends list and quickly typed up a group message containing his coordinates. Then, he slouched back against the shrine, and waited.
“Well, it’s certainly about time you showed!” a voice called out of nowhere.
Isaac spun around to see Arthur, a long flowing cloak over his shoulder, leaning against the wreckage of the library on the hilltop.
“Oh, you were here already?” Isaac asked, standing up and walking towards him.
“In truth, I happen’d to start here.” Arthur shrugged, striding down the hill. “It would seem as though BRYZ sets your starting spawn point as the shrine closest to your last location. I logged in last Thursday when I was at your place, hence my appearance here now.”
“What’s with the wordiness, Art?” Isaac raised an eyebrow. “Decided to wax eloquent all of a sudden?”
“Oh, come on.” Arthur sighed. “I should be asking why you’re acting so normal. This is the internet, Zach! You gotta cut loose, and ham it up a little. I think you’ll find the other people you meet will be far more… open with their eccentricities than they might be in real life.”
“Well, you may have something there.” Isaac thought about the players he’d met already. “Okay, but even putting that aside… what’s with the outfit, Art?”
“Hmm? You have something to say about my attire?”
His friend was dressed straight from a medieval aristocrat’s wardrobe, from brass-buckled, brown leather boots to olive green and white striped hose, complimented by a spotless white linen shirt and ‘kerchief, all topped off with a flowing red cloak, feathered Tam-‘O-Shanter. A gold-inlaid pipe was set firmly between his teeth, a pince-nez tipped his nose, and in his off hand, he was holding an ornate wooden cane with gold insets and an ivory handle.
“I don’t know how to say this man…” Isaac started, surveying his friend’s attire, “but you look like a fop.”
“You’re just jealous that I possess a far richer wardrobe than yours.” Arthur laughed, brushing off his shoulder and striding down towards Isaac. “I must say though; this world has fine taste; it gave me a perfectly suited class.”
“I didn’t know “Dandy” was an available option,” Isaac poked. “What’d you get?”
“Apparently, I am an Orator-style Silvertongue,” Arthur boasted. “My Charisma stat is through the roof, and my words can even sway the hearts of NPCs! Surely, no more fitting class could have been chosen for me. It is as though BRYZ itself is welcoming my little revolution.”
“It’s actually surprisingly appropriate,” Isaac was forced to agree. “If the game was able to pick up your overwhelming political ambition, I don’t think there’s any doubt as to what class Jace got.”
“Well, I’d say you’re not far off.” Arthur sighed, pointing back towards the hill with one hand, and planting the other on his face.
Following his finger, Isaac glimpsed a sun-bathed figure and groaned in recognition.
In contrast to the hooded black robes of other edgy new players, Jason's knee-high hooded robe was a brilliant white, covering black pants and leather boots. Around his torso was a copper-covered leather belt lined with daggers and vials, overlaid on a red sash. Two metal-plated leather gloves adorned each hand, barely concealing twin retractable daggers, in addition to the sword belted at his waist and the spear strapped to his back. A short cape of red fluttered around his shoulders as he walked, stirred by an errant breeze.
Not even Jason’s low-pulled hood could hide his enthusiastic grin as he strode towards the two, his arms wide at his side as he flicked his wristblades in and out.
“Jace, what in God’s name are you wearing?” Arthur asked in exasperation.
“I originally picked this up for an E-convention, but this is, like, a way better use for it!” Jason chortled, flicking out his cape with one hand. “These clothes fit a Bloodspiller type Assassin like myself to a T!”
“Jace… wearing an outfit like that practically screams to the world, “Hey, I’m an assassin! I’m gonna stab you in the back!”” Arthur pointed out bluntly. “You are hereby forbidden to be in my service so long as you wear that.”
“Actually, poor taste in outfits aside, you said you’re a Bloodspiller Assassin, right?” Isaac queried. “That’s a damage-focused class, entirely centered around getting in one good strike at a time, then retreating out of danger. Wouldn’t the Mindgamer Assassin be more fitting for political assassinations? It reduces your straight-up attack power, but adds tons of skills, such as disguises, poisoning, traps, forging signatures, and all kinds of other handy tools. Why’d you get Bloodspiller, if your intent was to take out Art’s political rivals?”
“Who needs poisoning when you can just use a well-placed slice to the femoral or carotid artery?” Jason retorted. “That’s far more fun than traps, disguises, and the like!”
“Right… of course…” Isaac shivered. “You’d better keep this guy on a tight leash Art, or he’ll bite you in the back.”
“Heh, what good is a guard dog without fangs?” Arthur returned magnanimously. “At least this way he’ll be handier in direct combat. For instance, against those little beasties that have been sneaking up on us this past while.”
Arthur nonchalantly swung his cane out in the direction of the forest behind them, and to Isaac’s horror, there was indeed a large pack of Muggmites observing them from the darkness.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?!” Isaac exclaimed, noticing that several Muggmites had even managed to encircle them, and were slowly amassing at the top of the hill, amidst the ruins of the Library.
“They haven’t attacked us, so it is entirely possible they come in peace,” Arthur explained, completely unperturbed. “Assuming ill intent is an easy way to start an unnecessary bloodbath, Isaac.”
“They’re frickin’ Muggmites!” Isaac retorted. “They probably noticed that new players always spawn at resurrection shrines, and prepared a welcoming party!”
“I’ll take the ones behind us,” Jason offered, drawing his sword.
“I’d really recommend against it,” Isaac cautioned, turning to stop him. “You’re an assassin, so you’re really not meant to be out in the open like this. You’ve got incredibly high attack stats, but some of the lowest defense of all classes. Two or three good hits from those Muggmites, and you’re done for, and that’s not even the worst of our problems. Not only does Art’s class not have any attack skills, it doesn’t even look like he got a weapon. I don’t see any kind of a fight ending well. Right, Art?”
Isaac turned around to see that Arthur was no longer standing next to him. In horror, Isaac glanced down the hill to see that his friend was walking straight towards the Muggmites in the woods, cane tucked into his belt, hands wide to his side with the palms out in a gesture of good intent.
“The heck are you doing, Art?!?” Isaac exclaimed, dashing after him.
“Halt your advance!” Arthur called out, stopping Isaac in his tracks.
“Arthur?” Isaac skidded to a halt.
“This is the modern era, Isaac,” Arthur cautioned, continuing towards the Muggmite ranks. “Wars are fought with words, not weapons.”
“Wait, Arthur!” Isaac called out, only to be stopped by Jason.
“He looks like he’s got things under control, man,” Jason assured him. “If it’s Art, I bet he could even bring Muggmites over to our cause.”
“No, that’s not the problem…” Isaac started, turning to watch Arthur.
“Monsters, that is what you are called, yes?” Arthur addressed the Muggmites, his sonorous voice rising. “Yet, being forced to abide here, homeless in the woods, living as brigands disallowed the comforts of civilization; can it really be you that are called monsters?”
Arthur had by now passed through their ranks completely, and was fully surrounded by the Muggish band. Undaunted, he continued to speak.
“Come!” Arthur cried, lifting his hand up over his head, as if grasping at the setting sun. “Join me, and earn yourselves a place amongst the Bourgeoisie that now stand above you by joining my bloodless revolution! Lower your spears, and raise your voices! Gather the tribes, and assemble before the towns; for I promise you this: your combined voices shall NOT be ignored.”
“See?” Jason grinned at Isaac. “Silvertongues can even touch the hearts of NPCs. Art’s managed to sway the Muggmites to our side!”
“There’s a fatal flaw here,” Isaac groaned.
“Now then, who wishes to rise above their downtrodden lifestyle?” Arthur called out, looking at the snarling faces around him. “Stand up, and you shall not stand alone; I will walk beside you the entire way!”
“Muggmites can only understand the bare rudiments of Common,” Isaac explained, planting his face in his hands.
With a united growl, the Muggmites started to close in on Arthur, spears out.
“What is this?!?” Arthur exclaimed, grabbing up his cloak around him to avoid a spear thrust. “What do you not get? Follow me, and you can rise above this savagery!”
“Jace, you’d better save that idiot.” Isaac sighed, loading his revolver’s belt into position. “I’ll watch your back.”
“No sooner said that done!” Jason dashed forward in a blink, smashing the pommel of his short sword into the forehead of a stray Muggmite as he went, downing it. Kicking it out in front of him, he bowled over a trio of Muggmites waiting to stop him, stunning them. Taking advantage of their confusion, he sheathed his sword and drew the spear from his back without breaking stride. Reaching the encirclement, he put on a final burst of speed, planting his polearm into the ground, vaulting over the preoccupied monsters and planting a pair of boots into the face of a Muggmite that had just disarmed Arthur of his cane.
“It’s dangerous to go alone, take this!” he quipped, stomping on the dropped cane and catapulting it into Arthur’s waiting hands.
“Jace, kill these barbarians!” Arthur growled, grasping his cane in both hands. “Those who stand in the way of advancement will be used as the stones to pave it!”
Lashing out, he caught a smaller Muggmite right under the chin, completely lifting it off the ground and sending it spiraling onto the spears of its comrades.
“Now you’re talking my language!” Jason grinned, drawing his short sword in his off hand. “Consider them as good as dead.”
“Leave any that flee, and spare the unconscious,” Arthur cautioned, planting the base of his cane into the temple of another Muggmite, knocking it clean out. “There have to be some left to tell of what happens when you oppose Democracy.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” Isaac muttered, aiming down his revolver’s sights. “Oh shoot, Jace, look out!”
Jason turned just in time to see a Muggmite behind him collapse, sporting a bullet hole in its cranium, the result of Isaac’s SNIPE skill.
“Don’t forget, an Assassin isn’t meant for direct conflict!” Isaac cautioned, firing off another bullet, taking out a second Muggmite. “Take too many hits, and you aren’t gonna be a bit of good to the rest of us.”
“Take a bit of your own advice!” Arthur yelled, flicking out his cane, launching the pole of it off and catching a Muggmite behind Isaac right in the windpipe. “Here’s another surprise for you, peasants!” Arthur grinned, revealing the blade concealed within the length of his cane.
“Thanks for that, Art!” Isaac spun and dropped to the ground, fanning his hammer as he picked off some of the Muggmites that had encircled them. However, even as they fell to the ground, more took their place, heading the mass that was now crawling down the hill.
“You had your chance to appeal,” Arthur pronounced calmly, slicing straight through a cobbled-together spear and the arm that held it in one stroke, flicking the blood off his blade over the remaining Muggmites. “Now you will face your judge, jury, and executioner!”
“Who needs a judge?” Jason laughed, flicking off a dagger at a Muggmite, impaling its leg and causing it to trip and stab the Muggmite in front of it. “I say we kill them all and let God sort them out!”
“Just checking, guys.” Isaac grimaced, fanning a second hail of bullets into the enemy line. “But you're supposed to be fighting on the side of justice, right?”
“Justice is merely a sword,” Arthur explained grandiosely, snapping a kick at a Muggmite, fracturing its knee. “By itself, Justice can only punish the guilty. That is why one must also have Mercy to act as a shield from Justice’s punishment. However, these miscreants have forsaken the Mercy offered, so now they must take Justice’s blade at it’s full.”
“They’re just NPCs anyway,” Jason added, backpedaling out of the reach of a spear thrust and countering with a stab from his own. “They’re just practice for the real foes.”
“I still think you started off your bloodless revolution on the wrong foot,” Isaac quipped, shooting the kneecaps out of a pair of Muggmites. “They’re gonna have to leave this one out of the history books.”
“History is written by the victors anyway,” Arthur shot back, grabbing a thrusting spear and stabbing it between the ribs of a Muggmite behind him.
Suddenly, the monsters stopped advancing, and began to pull back.
“Think they got the message?” Isaac asked, uncocking his revolver.
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jason replied, opening up his menu and investing a skill point.
As if in response the ranks split in two, making way for a platemail-clad Mugg riding a very large wolf. As one, the Muggmites broke into a chant, slamming their weapons together to produce a resounding din as the armoured foe advanced towards Arthur.
“It would seem they’ve only now begun to take us seriously,” Arthur smirked darkly, imbedding his swordcane in the ground and pulling off his formerly white gloves. “I suppose we should do likewise.”
“Jace, maybe you should take this guy…” Isaac started, only to notice that his friend was nowhere in sight.
The armoured Mugg broke his mount into a trot, heading right for the unmoving Arthur. “Disappear!” Arthur bellowed, flicking his hand out in command while not budging an inch.
“SPLINTER!” Jason’s voice came out of nowhere, followed by a dagger driving into the shoulders of the chief Mugg. Trailing after the dagger, in the blink of an eye Jason leapt out from under a pile of corpses, delivering a flying kick to the hilt of the dagger and driving it up to the pommel stone into the Mugg’s back. Blood erupted from the helmet’s mouthpiece, and the Mugg rolled off the wolf, hitting the ground with a resonating clatter. Jason landed lightly on his hands, flipping himself up and kicking away two Muggmites that got too close in the process.
Ignorant of its master’s demise, the wolf continued its charge, breaking into a leap aimed at Arthur’s throat, jaws wide.
In an instant, Arthur sidestepped it, wrapped his arms around its neck, and using its own momentum spun and threw it into the ranks of Muggmites behind him. However, the wolf broke into a roll upon collision, taking down a half dozen Muggmites with it, but propelling itself back onto its feet. Snarling, it turned around and broke into another charge. Unmoving, Arthur stood arms akimbo, ready to meet it. At the last second, Arthur stepped back, kicking his foot and knocking his sword blade out of the ground. With his offhand, he snatched it up, driving it into the forehead of the wolf. The beast shrieked in pain, tripping and falling to the ground. However, its momentum was too great, and it took Arthur with it, flailing at him with savage claws in its death throes.
Isaac broke into a run, kicking a Muggmite out of the way in an attempt to rescue Arthur, but his friend was already barely visible beneath the humungous body of the monster. Suddenly, Arthur’s right arm shot up, delivering a tremendous uppercut to the dying wolf. Another arm surfaced and, wrapping themselves around the wolf’s neck, with a terrible snap broke the wolf’s back. A final spasm issued from the wolf’s body accompanied by a flow of red from its mouth, and then all was stillness.
If the defeat of their leader had not been enough to break their spirit, this was the final straw. Battered and defeated, even the bravest Muggmites crept back into the forest they had emerged from, leaving the dead and dying behind.
Jogging towards his fallen friend, Isaac reached the wolf the same time as Jason, and together they managed to flip the creature off of their friend. Throwing his arms over their shoulders, they lifted his blood-covered body up. His shirt had been all but ripped off, and huge gashes were torn into his front and back, but in spite of it all a broad grin covered Arthur’s face.
“I’m gonna have one hell of a tale to tell the folks at the bar,” he whispered, stumbling to his feet.
“Let’s get you to the town, champ,” Jason smirked, helping him along. “Besides, you’re heavy.”
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