“The Forgotten Empire is something of a misnomer. Everybody knows about it. They show up all the time. We just have never been able to find out what they called themselves. They never talk about it; they just say that all the living must be made over to serve. They’re really terrible conversationalists. You would think that spending millenia inside a tomb would let you consider how to approach other, but alas no.”

  From “Bones to Pick” by Bard Barion

  Year 1, Month 2, Day 2, 07:00

  Torgon clapped his hands, focusing the attention of the group on him. “We need a quick debrief then it’s time to get back into the Broken Hills.”

  Allestor’s eyes went wide, “But, the hot springs.”

  Torgon shook his head, a wry grin on his face. “There will be time enough for that later.” He gathered up the somewhat reluctant leadership team and set off for the meeting room.

  Mark was the first to speak, “I’ll have to build more single target siege weapons. Our counter-battery fire didn’t have the punch it needed. We didn’t plan to have siege weapon duels so soon.”

  Ovarrix put a hand on Mark’s shoulder, “It worked adequately. Our real shortcoming was having so many new players that don’t have enough experience under their belt. We can get them better gear, but they need training the most. They’ll automatically be better in the next siege by virtue of experiencing this one. Do we intend to keep growing Torg?”

  Torgon nodded, “We do. A stupidly high percentage of the world’s population is now in the game, and the number continues to rise. Quantity as well as quality is necessary to safeguard the guild.”

  Elder Chestnut hovered in place over his chair, his eyes rapidly moving from speaker to speaker. “I have tried the sap with the Faerie Tree, and it did not take it. I communed with the great spirit of the forest, and it suggested that the items you acquired could be used to improve the yields of harvesting nodes.”

  Dusty perked up, “I can take the materials to the fields we have and see what happens.”

  Torgon considered everything briefly become coming to a decision. “Ovarrix, put together an army, at least 2,000 strong, and range through the Broken Hills killing everything you come across. Try to get at least half of the people from the less experienced. Mark, you work with Ashford and make whatever siege gear you need. Dusty, play around with the materials and dig through whatever fresh research you can find in the libraries. Hype, Allestor, you’re both with me. We’ll grab Steve and Kate and try some extreme scouting.”

  Torgon and his group set off while Ovarrix continued to assemble his army. They teleported through Miller’s Crossing and into the outpost. He noted the wary eyes of players standing around idly, pretending to be browsing goods in shops. “When we clear the town, we’ll drop into stealth and move at maximum speed towards the next outpost. Once we’re a mile away, assuming we’ve lost our tails, we’ll head directly to the center of the zone.”

  The players in the outpost tried to follow Torgon and others but lost sight of the group quickly. Hyperia messaged in their group interface, “What are we doing Torg? Is this just a scouting mission? I notice we’re on the violent and deadly side of things for that.”

  Torgon informed the group, “I have a hunch. There are going to be interesting things in the center of the zone, and I know other attempts to reach there haven’t had the best success. The larger groups are getting bogged down. I want to see what’s there, fight what we run across and maybe we’ll get lucky. Despite our tendencies, all of us can move discreetly when we choose to.

  Steve snorted, swallowing a laugh. “Torg, I’m a killer and Kate is well on her way to being the best protégé I could ask for. You’re no shrinking violet yourself. Please tell me we’re hunting people.”

  Torgon nodded briefly, “We are. The Midnight Maiden has the area lousy with scouts and spies. I miss her being an advisor and not the person in charge. Incompetent enemies are so much easier to deal with.”

  “I always thought adults were so much wiser than kids like me, but the Red Hat Raiders and the other people we’ve fought have seemed like idiots,” Kate mused.

  Torgon patted the top of her head as he spoke, “Wisdom comes from experience. Experience is where you do all the stupid things that come to mind and figure out what works and what doesn’t.”

  Kate pondered his words. “So, to become wise like Hyperia I have to do all the stupid things like you, Allestor and Steve?”

  Torgon sighed heavily and shook his head, ignoring Kate’s impish grin. “That hurts Kate. It’s true, but it still hurts.”

  They made their turn and started moving directly towards the center of the zone. The hills, ravines and rough terrain slowed their progress. The sun disappeared behind dark grey clouds of unnatural origin. The air grew colder and thicker. The smell of ancient decay permeated everything. Lone undead creatures appeared with increasing frequency.

  The party’s stealth held out well, but eventually the undead began using senses that ignored the ability. Allestor took the lead, dispatching lone undead quietly and efficiently. Faintly, in the distance, sounds of battle could be heard. The group crept behind ridgelines, allowing Kate to peer over the crest every few dozen yards until they located the battle.

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  Ahead, a team of 50 players from the Young Master’s Alliance battled a growing horde of undead. Skeletons, wights and shadows swarmed towards the force, trapping them inside a box canyon with walls thirty feet high. Hyperia spoke, “It looks like a probe in force. They aren’t going to make it, and we can’t change the outcome of the fight. Ignore them, or wait and see how the undead disperse?”

  Torgon cocked his head, “Up the hills, we’ll get overhead and avoid notice. When the fight ends, we’ll observe how the undead disperse. If they’re part of a regular patrol that could give us clues on where our enemies are focusing their efforts. I know the center of the zone is easy to find, but who knows that lies between here and there.”

  Kate smiled, “We can take the loot too.” Steve nodded approvingly at his understudy.

  The team clambered up the back of a ridge and belly crawled to the edge of the box canyon. The player force was down to a mere two dozen survivors, their backs already against the canyon walls. They yelled and screamed, but the undead force slaughtering them did so in silence. It was all over in a few minutes and the undead moved back out of the canyon, breaking into groups and returning to their regular patterns. A single wight would lead a team of zombies in slow circles, while the shadows made a beeline for the center.

  In the distance, ruins could be seen rising above the background terrain. Broken stone structures, decaying aqueducts and crumbling edifices dotted the landscape. The ruins were ancient, weathered and covered in dead vegetation. The once teeming metropolis of a vibrant empire now existed as a home to countless undead. The name of the city was forgotten by all who still lived, much like the name of the empire it belonged to.

  Steve pointed to a broken tunnel, easily ten feet tall, that would screen the party from the surface. “Should we take that? Not much water flow and the weather looks clear.”

  Hyperia shook her head, “No. There are too many incorporeal undead. It will be hard enough to watch out for the occasional ambush from below ground. I’d rather not be worried about ambushes from every direction at once. We will have to stay on the surface until we have a way to find the shadows early.”

  Torgon spoke, “Let’s grab the loot and start mapping the perimeter of the city. I don’t think we should try to sneak inside. There are going to be thousands and thousands of undead in there. I’d bet my life that the zone’s raid instance is in there.”

  They quietly dropped into the box canyon and picked up all the gear left behind by the recently departed players. Torgon and the team skirted the edge of the city, carefully mapping the edge of the vast monument to death. Two hundred yards of flat ground occupied the area between the hills and the start of the ruin. Sparse vegetation and water craved gullies provided cover for the group.

  Craters that varied in size from a few feet to dozens of yards appeared seemingly at random. Hyperia spoke, “This looks like a bombardment. It stops at the edge of the city. Do you think they had some sort of massive magical shield protecting this entire city?”

  Allestor grinned, “If they were destroyed thousands of years ago and they’re still hanging around, they absolutely had a magical shield.” He rubbed his hands together, “There is going to be so much sweet sweet loot we can pull out of that ruin.”

  “If we live,” Torgon said drily. “The city is circular, it must be around eight miles wide. There could easily be over a million undead here. Why do you think they came out after the other group?”

  Kate crept closer to the edge of the city and then froze. She peered closely at the ground then backed away. “I can see lines of runes. They’re clear of dust and they shouldn’t be. Magic, obviously.” She looked at the others, “Could they be wards?”

  Hyperia approached the runes cautiously, “They’re definitely wards and I can feel the magic running through them. If we cross over, we’ll have a welcoming committee.”

  Torgon squatted down, scratching his head. “Is the entire city an open world dungeon? That would make sense.” He continued muttering, mostly to himself before standing up. “Add another set of blueprints to our list.”

  Hyperia rolled her eyes, “What now Torg?”

  He gestured at the hills, the city and the open spaces. “We need a proper field encampment. We need walls, ditches, wards, artillery and proper defense. We need a way to keep it supplied and defended from the undead and other players.”

  Kate brightened, “I’ll message Digger and he can get his team on it!”

  “Thanks Kate.” Torgon continued, “Let’s make our way back out, slowly and methodically. I want to look for how many groups are coming from other guilds.”

  The sun began to fall behind the horizon, and the darkness brought new dangers. The city slowly lit up with pale lights that deepened the shadows. The amulets that warded them from the pervasive miasma began to lose durability faster. Wails and cries echoed from the depths of the ruins. Twin moons shone brightly despite being behind the clouds. Their light ignored the magical cloud cover to bathe the landscape in a reddish hue.

  Steve raised his fist and the group froze. He whispered, “We’re being followed. I spotted dark shapes a hundred yards behind us. They’re just stalking right now.”

  Torgon patted his shoulder, “We’ll keep moving steadily. If they wanted to attack, they’d just attack. They might be hoping we’ll lead them to a larger force.”

  They crept through the deepening night, blood red light illuminating their path. The shapes began to close in on the group, edging closer. Steve led them to a small knoll with three steep sides and one smooth approach. He said, “this is the best defensive terrain I can see for a ways Torg.”

  “Thanks Steve,” Torgon said. “Weapons clear, let’s see what’s come to greet us.”

  The team positioned themselves with Allestor and Steve in front and the others behind. Hyperia sent a blast of fire into the approaching undead, illuminating a small band of skeletons with wights leading them. Nearly two dozen undead bunched together as they tried to climb the hill and reach the living.

  Torgon and Kate pumped arrows into the wights, their magical power blasting holes through their withered grey flesh. Hyperia kept casting ice shards, breaking the bones of the skeletons trying to reach them. Allestor and Steve reaped the unlife of any that closed in too far. Their blades bringing the gift of true death.

  Howls echoed from afar. Torgon groaned, “Wolf riders, we’ve attracted the attention of the living residents of the area as well.” They quickly looted their kills and sprinted towards a gully. They dropped inside and moved with speed and stealth while goblins mounted on wolves, led by a shaman, investigated the knoll.

  They stopped and listened as sounds of new fighting broke out. The clang of metal and shouts of the living drew their attention. Peering over the rim of the gully they saw a force of 200 players quickly dispatching the goblins. Torgon narrowed his eyes, noting the two burly figures that had dragged him in front of the Midnight Maiden in the group. He didn’t see the maiden herself, but their presence spoke of a larger design.

  Torgon quietly filled the group in and added, “We need to get back and get back now. It’s time to organize our first proper expedition.”