Facing a hulking, ten-foot-tall hobgoblin in full plate armor was bad enough. Doing so while balancing on the roof of an RV driving at speed and with constantly firing turret guns on either side was suicidal. With no other option but to fight, however, Pete pulled his machete out of his inventory and attacked.

  

  >> NON PLAYER CAPITALIST

  ELITE HOBGOBLIN SHOCK-TROOPER [ENEMY]

  NAME: Drokkar Triflail

  TYPE: Heavy Assault / Shock-Entry Specialist

  AFFILIATION: Hobgoblin Warhost – Iron Fang Clade

  >> DESCRIPTION:

  A brutal veteran of a hundred breach assaults, Drokkar Triflail is deployed from height, using his own body armor to form a drop pod that slams into the battlefield like a meteor. Standing over nine feet tall and wrapped in layered ironbone plating, Drokkar wields a massive tri-headed flail, each spiked ball connected by chain lengths reinforced with runic alloy.

  >> OFFENSIVE ABILITIES

  +| TRI-FLAIL RUIN

  Drokkar swings all three spiked heads in a brutal, wide arc. Damages all enemies in front of him. Each head deals Blunt + Piercing Damage with a 15% chance per hit to apply Bleed. If two or more heads hit a single target, that target is Knocked Back.

  +| WHIPLASH CRUSH

  Drokkar retracts and tenses one chain, then launches a lightning-fast, high-impact strike. Deals heavy single-target damage and gains bonus damage vs. shields and barriers. On a critical hit, applies Armor Sundering (–10% Armor for 8 seconds).

  >> DEFENSIVE ABILITIES

  +| BULWARK SHELL

  Segments of his drop-pod plating reassemble into a temporary defensive shell. Absorbs a significant amount of incoming damage and grants immunity to crowd control for 4 seconds. Shatters early if the shield is depleted.

  It was difficult to take in the information as the brute swiped its flail at Pete, forcing him to dodge back, boots slipping on the roof as he backed against the turret gun Tongo was currently firing.

  

  >> DODGE PROFICIENCY +1

  Pete grunted as he was shoved aside by the gun as its aim shifted sharply to the right and the rear seat section of the holographic turret smashed against his back. Curious that this hobgoblin brute didn’t seem to interact with the holographic guns, but Pete did.

  “Drokkar is gonna eat you up, mucky muck!” the giant figure roared, hefting the flail in one armored fist.

  Pete had to stop from rolling his eyes. Somewhere along the line, the verbal insults had lost their sting. He realized at that moment that the fear he would typically have felt when this close to an enemy was no longer as potent as it had once been. Instead of fearing for his life, Pete’s mind was whirring with potential attack and defense options.

  As the hobgoblin stepped forward and prepared to swing its flail at Pete once again, he triggered his Coin Toss ability, aiming for the brute’s helmet. The coin flew through the air, clinking as it hit the hobgoblin’s exposed teeth and bounced harmlessly off.

  Drokkar blinked, momentarily confused and buying Pete a few precious seconds to think. The goal here wasn’t to kill the brute so much as it was to knock it off the roof. Even if the hobgoblin was fast enough to run after the RV and catch up, they could use the turret guns to mow the beast down.

  With that in mind, Pete shifted his strategy and immediately poured all of his available Belch Bucks into the ammo reserves for the turret guns.

  

  >> DEBUFF WARNING: YOU ARE NOW INSOLVENT!

  Pete moved forward the moment his insolvency debuff was triggered, keen to move away from where the hobgoblin had last seen him. He skirted around the hulking figure as Drokkar looked left and right in confusion.

  “Where yous go? Why Drokkar can’t sees you, mucky muck?!”

  The brute spun around, looking back toward the front of the RV, right at where Pete was standing. The look in the hobgoblin’s eyes made it plain, however, that it could not see Pete, but that solved only one of his immediate problems.

  The sheer bulk of the hobgoblin trooper meant that simply shoving him off the edge of the RV wasn’t going to be easy. Even with a running start, which Pete wouldn’t have, he wasn’t going to be able to shift the brute. The hobgoblin’s legs were also covered in plate armor. There were bare sections of green skin visible between the joints, of course, but even if Pete managed to cut into the beast’s flesh, the machete was likely to get stuck.

  “I still smell yous hooman,” Drokkar said with a wicked grin. “I know yous is still here!”

  With no time to waste and running out of options, Pete pulled out his bow and one of the Coin Biter Drill Shaft arrows the Burrowers had given him. He loaded the arrow and held the shot, crouching low and trying to steady himself as the wind buffeted him and the RV shifted left and right beneath him. Thankfully, he’d wedged his left leg against the side of the vacant turret gun, and that provided enough stability to keep him upright as he waited for his charged shot to trigger.

  The hobgoblin spun around again, confusion quickly turning to rage as the spiked balls of his flail swung back and nearly collided with Pete’s head. He had to duck down to avoid the blow, all while still straining to hold the notched arrow.

  

  >> COINPIERCER ABILITY READY!

  Pete fired, aiming for a gap in the hobgoblin’s leg armor and hoping that the explosive nature of the shot at such close quarters wouldn’t send him tumbling backward off the roof. He closed his eyes at the moment he loosed the arrow, avoiding the blinding light as the shot struck the enemy hobgoblin.

  

  >> CRITICAL STRIKE 10x DAMAGE!

  The RV shook in response to the shot, and Pete opened his eyes and immediately reached out and grabbed the edge of the nearby turret gun as his boots slid and he tumbled backward. At the same time, he dropped the bow back into his inventory before it fell into the night, gripping with white-knuckled desperation as the RV fishtailed and eventually regained stability.

  [Sam] What the fuck was that?!

  [Coop] Someone is shooting at us!

  Pete was prevented from replying as the hulking hobgoblin roared in pain, blood and gore spurting from the wound on its lower right leg. The brute lumbered forward, swinging its flail wildly around in an effort to crush Pete, even though the hobgoblin had no idea where he was. The spiked balls swept through the air as Drokkar spat and hissed insults, swearing that he would ‘eat the Vault Breaker’ as soon as he found him.

  Ducking low to the ground, Pete saw what had caused the RV to swerve so erratically. A perfectly round, one-inch hole sat just opposite where he was hunched, running in a diagonal line that stretched presumably from where his charge arrow shaft had burrowed its way through the hobgoblin’s armor and continued on its path right through the side of the RV down just in front of the rear wheel. The shot must have hit the road just ahead of the tire and caused enough of a disturbance that the RV momentarily lost control.

  [Nero] Just a suggestion, but the next time you plan on firing a charged arrow, I would counsel against firing down toward the vehicle.

  Ignoring the AI tutor, Pete summoned his Pauper’s Ward and charged toward the wounded hobgoblin. While Drokkar hadn’t gotten any lighter in the past moment, his right leg was a complete ruin, forcing him to put all of his weight on the left, and that made him much more vulnerable. Pete was also still invisible, so as he charged the brute, Drokkar was facing in the wrong direction and, as luck would have it, had over-pitched as he’d swung his flail.

  All of this meant that when Pete shoulder-charged with all his weight, he was able to shove the hulking hobgoblin off the side of the RV and into the night. Drokkar roared in anger and frustration, spinning as he fell while Pete ducked low and dug his heels into the roof in a desperate attempt not to slip off and follow the hobgoblin.

  Pete managed to stay aboard the RV, and Drokkar thudded against the road, bouncing off and lashing his flail at the Winnebago in a desperate move that caught the back of the vehicle and yanked it to one side, while the hobgoblin used the momentum of the RV to pull himself upright.

  The RV’s tires squealed as it was yanked backward. Pete flew through the air, slamming into the gunner chair at the rear of the roof where Craig was firing at goblin explosives and falling drop pods. Winded, Pete climbed to his feet, watching in horror as the hulking form of Drokkar Triflail ran along after the RV, still holding his massive flail, its spiked balls stuck to the side of the vehicle.

  Without hesitation, Pete drew his bow for a third time, but rather than waiting for a charged shot, he fired three arrows in quick succession. He aimed directly at the brute’s eyes but couldn’t hit the bulbous orbs as his shots pinged off Drokkar’s helmet or went wide. The ground shook as Drokkar started to gain ground, heedless of the ruined mess of his right leg, bloody murder in his hate-filled eyes.

  Realizing the stupidity of trying to hit the brute with arrows when there was a far more powerful weapon right next to him, Pete patted Craig on the shoulder and pointed down at the hobgoblin.

  [Pete] Need you to take out the big guy! NOW!

  Craig immediately lowered the gun and triggered a Bellybuster Rocket. The rocket spiraled toward the hobgoblin, hitting the brute in the chest and engulfing him in the ensuing conflagration. Drokkar stumbled backward, flesh and armor torn apart as the explosion did its work. The huge hobgoblin wrenched back his arm and ripped the flail out of the side of the RV.

  One of the spike balls whipped upward, passing over the turret gun Craig was already maneuvering toward more falling enemies and coming down directly on Pete’s head. There was no time to dodge or run and, in that brief moment, Pete understood what it meant when people spoke about “seeing their life flash before their eyes” when encountering a near-death experience.

  He saw his mother, not as she was now, hanging over a vat of acid, but picking him up and swinging him around in their backyard, sunlight bouncing off her hair. He saw himself at school with Ollie, running from bullies and hiding beneath the bleachers, chuckling with each other as they shared pilfered candy. Then came college, a blur of alcohol, lectures, and study, followed by the desolate years of office work.

  It all passed by in that single moment, too fast to really capture what he was seeing but enough to fill him with gratitude as the huge, spiked ball that should have pulped his skull bounced off the Pauper’s Ward he’d forgotten still surrounded him. The ward broke, and the spiked ball vanished as Drokkar Triflail was swallowed by darkness and the RV continued on.

  There was no time to thank whoever it was that had designed the Penny Pincher class along with the gods of luck. Drop pods were still falling all around, and Craig and his goblin companions were busy keeping them at bay.

  Pete ran toward the front-mounted gun, conscious that he’d been neglecting his own defensive duties the whole time he’d been fighting Drokkar. As he ran to position, he caught sight of dozens of small objects flying at speed toward the RV. With the turret gun’s enhanced targeting display, he saw that the approaching objects were, in fact, goblins, gliding down from out of the darkness using badly constructed metal wingsuits that made them spin and veer left and right as though they were out of control.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  [Grizzle] These are too hard to hit. They move erratically.

  [Craig] Aim ahead of them rather than where they are. You’ll have to spend more ammo as well.

  As Pete rejoined the fight, firing bursts of gunfire into the oncoming ranks of flying goblins, he understood exactly what Grizzle had been complaining about. The incoming flyers darted sharply to one side, then bobbed up, then down, with no apparent method or strategy to their flight path. Some of them even collided with fellow goblin flyers, breaking off their wings and forcing both of the creatures into a downward spiral as a result.

  This made them hard to hit because it simply wasn’t possible to predict which direction they were going to head. Pete did his best to spray the sky with projectiles, using the weapon more like a hose than a precision firearm. Of the dozens of goblins flying toward the RV, he managed to hit at least half, but many more made it through.

  Some dived into the road ahead of the RV, squelching or bouncing off the surface of the ground depending on whether the flying suit or goblin made the initial impact point. Others flew to the sides of the Winnebago, smacking into the sidewalk or splatting against the sides of shielded residential buildings and meeting a sticky end.

  The sheer number of goblins that died in this way was staggering. It reminded Pete of a nature documentary he’d seen years earlier with baby turtles crawling their way across the beach and heading for the relative safety of water while birds picked them off at will. There were so many goblins that the dozens that died never reaching the RV didn’t really matter.

  There was a crash in the cabin below as one goblin flyer shot through the open door and into the vehicle, followed closely by a second and third. Others hit the side of the RV and grabbed on with metal claws attached to their hands, climbing their way inside.

  They were heading toward Sam, some trying to beat their way through the windshield while she used a combination of windshield wipers and her own magic to shove them off. Others attempted to get to her by means of the rear cabin, but they were met by the savage attentions of a ferocious ferret and a slavering hellhound. What made the fight even more harrowing was the fact that, true to their name, the Goblin Screamers never stopped screeching from the moment they made contact with the RV until they breathed their last.

  Most of them even started well before they landed, flying through the air and screaming at the top of their lungs as their absurd metal wingsuits spun them around in haphazard fashion. The only time they stopped screaming was when they suffered such brutal turbulence that they were made to vomit, spraying chunks of green and yellow puke all around amid a hail of bullet fire and fellow flyers.

  Pete concentrated his fire on the incoming enemies, listening to the terrible sound of goblins being mangled to pieces in the cabin below as Coop and Wolfy destroyed any creatures foolish enough to enter the vehicle. In what Pete hoped was the final wave of attackers, a mix of hobgoblin drop pods, Goblin Screamers, and comical explosives that were made to look like Looney Tunes style bombs, that looked like bowling balls with extra-long fuses.

  There were so many falling bombs that Pete had to hold his button on the trigger and simply spray the sky with projectiles. Fortunately, when one of the bombs was hit with enough force to make it explode, the resulting burst of energy usually took out one or two other explosives. Any Goblin Screamers nearby were also taken out, but the explosions weren’t sufficient to take out hobgoblin drop pods.

  The next twenty seconds were insane. Sweat poured down Pete’s face as he fired a mix of standard bullets and rockets, desperately trying to hold back the flood of enemies. The night sky above was filled with exploding bombs and pieces of metal shrapnel, and falling objects battered the area surrounding the RV, forcing Sam to swerve left and right to avoid hitting them.

  [Sam] Shit! It’s getting real hard to keep the pace up! How long is this gonna keep going?!

  [Pete] Can’t see the end of it from where I’m sitting. Just have to keep pushing!

  He caught sight of a hobgoblin drop pod that he’d missed in his sweep of the enemy. It was approaching faster than the others and lower, heading in an almost horizontal path directly toward the RV and aiming for the windshield.

  “Shit!” Pete barked, concentrating his fire on the incoming drop pod.

  He’d just fired a rocket a moment earlier, so he had to use just conventional projectiles, but the speed and approach vector of the pod were such that the bullets just bounced off its armored nose. Desperately searching for another option as the drop pod drew closer, Pete spotted a cluster of bombs to the left of the pod and switched his aim so that the stream of bullets leaving the turret gun raked the falling bombs.

  The resulting explosions weren’t enough to destroy the hobgoblin pod, but they did knock it off course. It shot past the RV, so close that Pete could feel the wind of its passing as the pod narrowly missed the front right corner of the Winnebago and flew past at blinding speed.

  

  ACHIEVEMENT: Pod Deflection Pro!

  Congratulations! You just successfully deflected a drop pod heading at extreme velocity toward your vehicle and avoided a catastrophic disaster. You didn’t actually hit the drop pod… you just scared it sideways with an improvised bomb-juggling act. Whatever. It worked.

  ACHIEVEMENT REWARD: Deflection Proficiency +1, Reflexes Proficiency +1, Tactical Thinking +1, Drop Pod Bobblehead [1 hr]

  A holographic bobblehead appeared on the frame of the turret gun. It had the body of a hobgoblin but with a head that just looked like one of the drop pods, with flames painted down its sides.

  Pete ignored the pointless addition, immediately resumed firing on the remaining enemies, taking out a bunch of goblin flyers and more of the bombs as the ranks of attackers seemed to thin a little. He continued to fire, finding that it was suddenly easier to pinpoint enemies given that their numbers had dropped.

  [Craig] I think we’re through.

  [Grizzle] Much fewer enemies now.

  [Coop] God, it smells like a trash fire in here. That dog stinks!

  Pete shot down the final two enemies and scanned the skies, waiting for a system notification informing them that they’d passed the second phase of the challenge. When no notification appeared, he began to suspect that something was wrong. That feeling of wrongness was accompanied by the sound of thudding coming from his right.

  Pete spun the gun around and focused on the opposite side of the road, where a smattering of parked cars whizzed past as the RV continued racing along. There was something moving in the darkness just out of sight, and, even with the enhanced targeting display from the turret gun, Pete couldn’t see what it was.

  When the street narrowed a little and a row of houses appeared on the opposite side of the road, all illuminated by the soft green glow of the shields that held humans prisoner inside. Pete saw a hulking figure sitting astride what appeared to be a commandeered Gearhound, and his heart thudded in his chest.

  “Fuck!”

  Drokkar Triflail stared hatefully from his place atop the Gearhound, his bulk dwarfing the mechanical beast, like a full-grown man riding a toddler’s tricycle. He roared and jabbed a finger toward Pete, blood covering his chest where the rocket had hit only a short time ago, one mangled foot dangling limply from a ruined leg.

  Pete started firing, joined by Torgo, who was seated on the turret gun to his right. Before the bullets hit their mark, however, Drokkar pulled something out from the other side of the Gearhound and moved a huge chunk of armored metal into place. The giant shield deflected the projectiles as the Gearhound moved closer.

  While he couldn’t be absolutely sure, it looked to Pete as though the “shield” Drokkar was using was another Gearhound, which had been pummeled and flattened into something the hulking hobgoblin could use for the purpose.

  Before Pete could trigger a rocket and, hopefully, end the hobgoblin’s insane attack, Drokkar threw the shield at the RV, sending it crashing into the side of the vehicle with enough force to send it hurtling to the side, tires screeching. Pete was flung backward in the seat of his turret gun as the RV swerved and lifted up on two wheels.

  He experienced an unnerving moment of giddiness as he was lifted up off his seat before the RV slammed back down against the road, fishtailed, and swerved back and forth before Sam finally got the vehicle under control.

  [Sam] What the fuck is going on!

  There was no time to respond. Pete was already up out of his seat, drawing an arrow and aiming at the hobgoblin’s head as the brute leaped from the Gearhound into the air, headed directly for the RV. Time seemed to slow once again as Pete fired three arrows in rapid succession.

  He realized only after the third arrow left his bow that time had actually slowed and his Blood Overdraft ability had automatically triggered. Two of the arrows had struck the hobgoblin, with one jutting from the brute’s chin and the other sticking out of Drokkar’s neck. Pete continued firing, aiming directly at the hobgoblin’s eyes.

  Arrows bounced off the hobgoblin’s helmet as Pete narrowed his focus and homed in on the brute’s face. He continued to fire, using all the speed he could manage to shoot as many arrows as possible in the hope that one of them would hit the mark.

  The hobgoblin elite hovered in the air, just a few feet from the RV, arms outstretched, body gushing blood from the rocket wound it had sustained earlier in addition to the catastrophic injury Pete had caused to its leg. Arrow shafts continued to fly, bouncing off the helmet until one of the shafts hit the mark, burrowing deep through the hobgoblin’s left eye and into its skull.

  Pete was so consumed with the need to hit the target that he continued to fire even after he’d successfully put an arrow through Drokkar’s eye. It was only after he shot a second arrow into the same eye that Pete realized he’d struck his target.

  The hulking figure continued to fly toward the RV even though the first arrow had penetrated its brain and killed the hobgoblin. Pete watched as, for the second time, the Winnebago was knocked aside by a huge object.

  The dead body of Drokkar Triflail slammed against the side of the RV, hitting so hard that the rear of the vehicle slid wildly to one side while the tires once again screeched in protest. As Sam tried to wrestle the RV under control, it bunny-hopped sideways across the street before its rear slammed into a light pole and corrected its sliding trajectory.

  The sudden shift in direction sent Pete hurling through the air off the roof. He stuck out a hand, grabbing hold of one of the barrels of the turret gun Grizzle was using and halting his advance with a muscle-straining jolt.

  Pete cried out in pain. His grip faltered, and his body swung around and slammed against the side of the RV, where he scrambled to hold on to the roof, clawing at it with desperation. Failing to latch onto anything that would give him purchase, he slid backward, but just as he was about to fall to the ground, a goblin hand shot out and grabbed him by the wrist.

  Pete looked up into Craig’s eyes as the little goblin strained to hold him. Grizzle jumped down off the turret gun and joined Torgo, and soon all three of them were heaving Pete upward onto the roof of the RV.

  

  >> KILL REWARD: 500 Belch Bucks

  >> ARCHERY PROFICIENCY +1

  Pete ignored the announcement, lying with his back on the roof while he sucked in air, his chest heaving. Craig, Grizzle, and Torgo sat beside him, looking up into a sky that was thankfully free of falling projectiles and hobgoblin giants. Pete reflected on how glad he was that the others in his party could still see him while he was under the Insolvency debuff, and gladder still that the goblins were close by to haul him back onto the roof.

  [Sam] Okay, whatever the fuck you guys are doing up there, just STOP IT! This RV is about to fall apart!

  [Pete] Sorry. Doing our best. I think we’re done for now.

  

  >> SPECIAL ENCOUNTER PHASE TWO: COMPLETE

  Congratulations! You have weathered the storm and survived the second phase of this encounter. And what lesson have you learned in deflecting the lethal attentions of flying goblins, explosive projectiles, and hobgoblin marauders? Who cares! It was great entertainment!

  ENCOUNTER REWARD: 5 Core Attribute Points

  >> Time to next phase: 30 minutes.

  The RV quickly slowed to a halt, and Pete heard Sam step out of the driver’s cabin. She walked around to the side of the vehicle as the holographic turret guns suddenly vanished and the remaining Belch Bucks that had been stored as ammunition were divided among Pete and the goblins.

  

  >> 3000 Belch Bucks added to wallet.

  Pete noticed that his insolvency status immediately changed and his stealth vanished. He accompanied the goblins as they headed back down into the rear cabin of the RV and then made their way outside. Coop accompanied the group, obviously keen to be well away from Wolfy and the sulfurous smell that accompanied the hellhound.

  “A thousand eggs!” the little ferret barked as she padded alongside Pete. “That’s what it smells like every time that ghastly dog opens its mouth!”

  “It’s part of the whole hellhound thing,” Sam said distractedly, her attention focused on the front wheel of the vehicle.

  “Well, surely you can change it?” Coop replied. “We just got some more of those attribute points to spend. Maybe you could spend them on ensuring that your wolf doesn’t smell like the devil’s anus?”

  Pete walked over to Sam. She was bending down beside the front wheel, tracing the lines of some kind of symbol that had been painted onto the tire in fluorescent paint. It looked like a broken circle with a geometric shape wedged into the opening. It looked a little like Pacman was trying to eat a Dungeons and Dragons d20 die.

  Sam looked over as Pete bent down beside her. She nodded at the symbol.

  “That’s the only reason we survived that run. Some kind of protection symbol Orin used on all the tires. They would have popped a dozen times during that last phase if he hadn’t marked them like this.”

  Pete nodded. “Almost didn’t make it, anyway. That fucking hobgoblin just wouldn’t die.”

  They both stood, and Sam moved over to the front of the vehicle, opening up the hood to inspect the engine. While she was inspecting the damage, Pete pulled up his profile and assigned his newly acquired points. He dropped a single point into Strength and Luck, putting the other three into his Agility slot, doubling them to six.

  

  >> DOMINION ULTRIMAX PLAYER PROFILE

  NAME: Pete – Vault Breaker, Dice Doomsayer

  CLASS: Penny Pincher

  LEVEL: Novice [67 Attribute Points]

  >> CORE ATTRIBUTES:

  Credit Rating [Constitution]: 4

  Asset Leverage [Strength]: 11

  Liquidity [Agility]: 40

  Market Insight [Intelligence]: 0

  Capital Stability [Wisdom]: 2

  Investor Confidence [Charisma]: 2

  Speculative Yield [Luck]: 8

  Pete examined the stats for a few moments. He’d already acquired sixty-seven points, and it made sense that the next phase of the encounter would give him another five. If he put those all into Agility, that would raise his total points to seventy-seven.

  “Nero, when we eventually get to the Novice Arena, will we need to level up before we head inside, or is it something that happens during the actual arena?”

  [Nero] Whilst you are inside the arena, you will be given the opportunity to level up, Pete. You will also need to choose a soulbound weapon.

  “Right. So, it doesn’t matter if we haven’t all hit a hundred points by the time we get to the arena?”

  [Nero] Correct. There will also be an opportunity to gain more points during the arena itself. However, as I have stated before, the more proficiency and attribute points you can gain before entering the arena, the better, as this will increase your chances of survival.

  “So, I don’t need to necessarily put all of my attribute points into Agility then?”

  [Nero] I would advise against it. While directing a majority of points toward your Agility attribute is a sound idea, spreading them a little, as you have been doing, is also wise, particularly among attributes that synergize with Agility efficiently, such as Strength and Luck.

  The conversation was interrupted by a shimmering light on the road up ahead. Once again, a huge holographic head appeared as the Overseer materialized in front of them.

  

  >> Greetings, Vault Breaker!