“Nobility in the game varied in how strictly they followed protocol. Players learned to pay attention to the reports of those who interacted with them. Generally, the nobles in charge of starter towns indulged the players who were not familiar with how to act. Once players reached the capital, offending a noble could damage their entire guild.”

  Excerpt from “Etiquette and Protocol” by C3-1138

  Year 1, Month 1, Day 8, 17:45

  Torgon stood outside the mayor’s residence in a crowd of fellow guild leaders. He dressed better than most, having taken the time to select proper attire, with help from Hyperia. It was one thing to appear in front of the baron having been summoned in his combat gear, it was quite another to show up at a dinner still dressed like a color-blind barbarian with the fashion sense of a month’s dead goblin. His breeches and tunic were unadorned fine cloth. He wore a tabard with the sigil of his guild. After several changes and lots of discussion, the sigil ended up being the silhouette of a kneeling child, a knife in one hand and small drops of blood dripping from the fingertip of the other.

  He felt a pair of eyes boring into him, and he glanced up to see Ron Don Morgan staring angrily. The man’s eyes were deep pools of hatred that warmed Torgon’s heart. He idly wondered if they would be able to project a proper killing intent at higher levels. Torgon smiled and waved at the leader of the Red Hat Raiders before turning back to his long slow regard of the still silent entrance to the manor. He made small talk with those near him, listening and responding appropriately. Little of consequence was said as all were waiting to hear what Baron Abernathy had in store for them.

  Five minutes before the appointed time, the doors to the manor swung open. The baron’s steward, flanked by guards, ushered the guild leaders inside. They were led to a large room dominated by a table on a dais in front of a dozen smaller tables. Each table held multiple place settings and one by one the guild leaders were seated at the various tables. The seats themselves featured ornate scrollwork on their wooden backs and deep, comfortable plush cushions. Torgon looked down at the setting, seeing four spoons, four forks and two knives artfully arranged with an empty goblet and a larger cup. Space for various dishes remained between the settings already in place.

  The baron arrived and sat at the head table alongside the captain of the guard, officials from the merchant’s guild and the miller’s guild. The surprise guest was a knight of the Order of the Sun and Rose. The knight represented the interests of the Kingdom of Thorn, the nation where Miller’s Crossing resided. The baron addressed the assembled guild leaders, “Thank you all for joining us. We’ll enjoy our meal first then we will get down to business. I know that you are unaccustomed to the nuances of dining with nobility and I will admit that I am less than fond of it myself. Start with the utensils on the outside and work your way in for the various courses. Whether to use a spoon or a fork is at your discretion and is something that even Sir Kelvin, my knightly friend managed to figure out early on.” Low chuckles filled the room, and servants began bringing in dishes and pouring wine.

  Torgon willed away the notification of his completed quest. He leaned back, enjoying the salad, soup, bread and various cheeses. None of the guild leaders seated at his table were prominent. They led small guilds, each having a few dozen members at most. Everyone still believed that they had the ability to grow and thrive. He knew that consolidation would start happening soon as word spread of the difficulty of defending bases during the siege events. Few guild leaders were up to the workload required to prosper, far fewer than were interested in the prestige of such a position. He schooled his expression to present a pleasant interest but remained noncommittal. The hardest part was avoiding a smirk whenever he noticed Morgan glaring at him.

  After a full eight delicious courses including two desserts, the servants cleared the dishes away, leaving the goblets of wine and cups of water at each setting. The baron stood from the table and addressed them once again. “Now, we get to the heart of the matter. The monster horde is a day’s march away from the city and still they are gathering forces. They have outlying camps for goblins, orcs, ogres and even a small force of trolls and giants. Every day they sit there growing stronger, but we do as well. We have spare forces and supplies arriving by barge each day. The king has requested and requires us to buy time to lay in more supplies and prepare for a siege. Sir Kelvin assures me that if we can hold for two or three sixdays the main kingdom armies will come to our aid. Miller’s Crossing and the Kingdom are formally requesting your assistance.”

  “You have received a Quest! Uncommon Guild Quest: Meeting Engagement 2. Requirements: Muster at least 20% of your guild forces and accompany Sir Kelvin in an assault on the Monster Army garrisons. This quest is mandatory and cannot be refused, only failed. Rewards: Every guild member will receive 500 Free Experience, 50 Guild Contribution Points and 25 reputation with Miller’s Crossing. Every participating guild member will receive 1,000 Free Experience, 100 Guild Contribution and 50 reputation with Miller’s Crossing. Failure Penalty: Loss of 50 reputation with Miller’s Crossing for every guild member.”

  Baron Abernathy took his seat and Sir Kelvin stood to speak. “All of us here are loyal subjects of the Kingdom of Thorn. We must do our utmost to protect the people of the kingdom and interests of the King. To that end, I will be leading a detachment of knights along with whatever forces you can provide me with from your guilds. I will be forming a militia of unattached players, and we will meet the monster horde in glorious combat. The city guard and the guild forces not marching to battle will remain in Miller’s Crossing to continue reinforcing the walls and storing supplies.” Sir Kelvin eyed the guild leaders who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Our duty is clear. We will take the fight to the enemy, disrupt them, and buy time for the army to make their way to our relief. We have graciously granted all travelers such as yourselves basic citizenship in the Kingdom. Some of you have earned higher standing already and many of you will have the chance to become true nobility in the fullness of time. Those privileges come with responsibilities. The primary responsibility is the defense of the kingdom in times of danger. I trust that you are all eager and ready to fulfill your obligations.”

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  The room erupted into noise as several guild leaders tried to speak over each other. The baron patiently waited a few moments before clearing his throat loudly and gesturing for one of the guild leaders to voice his concerns. The timid man rose and spoke, “Your lordship, my guild and several others here are just crafting associations. We have no appreciable combat power. Are we intended to join this venture?”

  The baron nodded to Sir Kelvin who answered, “The requirements for the quest are for a fifth of your membership. I know that all of you have basic combat skills and frankly, to make your way in this land you will need to improve them. Pick your most eager members and give them this opportunity to grow. Every guild is required to participate. You should have noted that this is mentioned in the very guild charters you signed to form your guild in our great kingdom.”

  Ron Don Morgan stood up and arrogantly declared, “My guild, the Red Hat Raiders, will deploy our entire strength. We will show the weaklings here what it means to be a true warrior. There is no guild stronger than ours. Keep the useless cowards and crafters hiding away and let the real men take care of everything.” Several combat-oriented guilds voiced their backing of Morgan and his men. He continued, “We should split our forces into two groups, keeping the real fighters with my guild and the others in a second group. We can attack the enemy, and they can be scouts and pickets.

  Sir Kelvin inclined his head, “A worthy idea guild leader Morgan. We can concentrate combat power into a mailed fist to smash into our chosen target while the rest stand ready to warn us of enemy reinforcements. Would anyone here be willing to lead such a group?”

  Torgon stood up, a lazy smile on his face. “My guild has some experience in conducting operations that require skill and subtlety. We would be more than happy to organize the other guilds and provide their forces with the necessary training to guarantee they feel comfortable during this undertaking. Morgan can take the glory and Risk of Injury will ensure that all the dirty work gets done.”

  The baron clapped his hands, an excited expression on his face. “Wonderful! It looks like we have a rough outline of the plan. Sir Kelvin will give everyone more details tomorrow. Everyone shall gather at the gates at 06:30 with the intention of sallying forth by 07:00. A day’s travel and camping overnight before engaging in combat on the next day. Thank you for listening to the proposal. Please return to your preparations.”

  The dismissal was clear, and the guild leaders began filtering out. Torgon shared the details of the meeting with his guild and then put Ovarrix in touch with the other guild leaders to help coordinate for the next day. He politely declined further discussions with them in favor of returning to his guild hall for more crafting. The next few days were going to be bloodier than usual.

  Ron Don Morgan stayed behind, talking about the cowardice of some guilds and the unfair luck of others. When the crowd outside the manor thinned, he shared the rough details of the planning with his superiors. He paused, looking at his orders. He now had to figure out a plan to sabotage the attack in a way that would let the Raiders flee to a neighboring starter zone. He sent out messages to unaffiliated pks, the sneaky ones, and arranged for them to leave the city overnight, heading to where the monsters were encamped. A malicious grin spread on his face as he imagined what would happen to Torgon and the worthless scum who followed him.

  It was nearly nightfall when Torgon returned to the base. Crafters toiled away at their tasks as he set up his own workstation near them. He planned on spending the entire night forging more enchanted long swords. The demand remained incredibly high for them across the city, and there were no comparable alternatives. The buff from the Faerie Tree started and he hammered away, shaping the metal into weapons of war.

  The guild was treating the operation as a training mission with high danger. It was volunteer only but still had roughly two thirds of the player portion of the guild participating. Dirk and his part timers had logged off for the night but were all going. The children, despite knowing the risks, wanted to fight and learn. They didn’t want to see Miller’s Crossing damaged the way that the guild base was after the siege.

  The leadership party and the lead scout team had a long discussion of the operation while they worked. Mark messaged, “It stinks. This smells like a trap or a sacrifice, and I can’t figure out the reason why.”

  Ovarrix replied, “Maybe, probably, either way though, we need to be there. Do you think there are tensions between the kingdom and the baron?”

  “Baron Abernathy and Sir Kelvin got along like old friends.” Torgon shared. “The baron seems to be purely concerned with his city and the people in it. I think Sir Kelvin hasn’t interacted with players yet and doesn’t know what to think of us.”

  “That’s probably it.” Hyperia interrupted. “This entire plan is to throw us out there and see how far they can trust us. If we all die, it’s not like it’s a major loss and then they have an idea of how much they can rely on players.”

  “So, dangerous, deadly, borderline suicidal, but not a trap?” Allestor asked.

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Ovarrix considered. “The Baron isn’t setting a trap but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t traps. The monsters are probably going to have some sort of surprise for us and that doesn’t even consider what our good buddy Ron Don Morgan is scheming up.”

  “Screw that guy.” Steve added unhelpfully.

  Ashford jumped in, “We can scout and extend our people out wider than normal, so we have warning of what’s happening, but that’s a long run back to town if things go wrong.”

  “We won’t run. If things go south, we’ll just fight it out, do a heroic last stand, die, come back, work off the xp debt and replace our gear.” Torgon thought about it while steadily swinging his hammer. “We’ll score points with the other guild leaders if we can let them get away or offer to help replace lost gear. It’s worth it from our standpoint. We need allies more than raw gear, plus it’s good advertising for future customers. Hype, think we should extend that offer to any independents that end up fighting with us?”

  “Absolutely. It would be a good recruitment opportunity plus if everything does go pear shaped, we can see who is willing to see it through to the end. Ugh, it’s almost better for us if this is some elaborate trap or disaster.” Hyperia grumbled. “The 6 P’s again. No matter what happens, we must take advantage of the opportunities we’re provided.”

  They crafted in silence after that, hours of toiling away at their preferred tasks. The light of dawn began spreading across the sky and supplies were distributed. The guild members going on the expedition gathered at the portal to Miller’s Crossing. In orderly ranks five across over three hundred members Risk of Injury entered the city and headed for the eastern gate.