Runeguard 043

I stumbled through the doors, and someone yanked them close behind me.

I wrenched my helmet off. It was blackened in places, but otherwise undamaged. Setting the helm aside, I exhaled in relief at the waft of cool, fresh air that brushed up against my still-reddened skin. 

That feels good, I thought, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensation.

“My god. Dace is that you?”

I popped open my eyes and took in the room. My eyes were still healing and my vision remained blurred, but already I could tell the townhall was crowded.

As my sight swam into focus, I made out a gray-haired figure standing before me. “Evelyn?”

Striding forward, the matron placed a concerned hand on my mailed arm, then snatched it back as she felt its heat. “What happened to you?” the Weavers guildmaster asked.

“Long story,” I croaked. “How are you here? I thought you were in the dungeon.”

“I was with the first team Everett sent to the swamps. We made it back before the attack.” She grimaced. “Unfortunately, the attack also came after Everett and the better part of his guild entered the dungeon.”

I nodded, relieved to receive confirmation that at least some of the Wardens were in the town. I looked around the room, but no one else had stepped forward. “Who is in charge here?”

“I am,” she said.

Of course, she is. Still, I frowned. “No, I mean, who is leading the defenders?”

Evelyn put her arms on hips. “I am.”

I stared at her. She hadn’t stopped glaring at me. 

“Are there any, uhm… combat players in the townhall?” I asked weakly.

Still not breaking off her stony silence, the matron raised her arm and gestured to the crowd behind her.

Two dozen players separated themselves from the crowd and formed a line behind the matron. I did my best to hide my wince.

The townhall was huge, and its entire expanse was packed to the brim. There had to be hundreds of players sheltering inside it, and if only two dozen of them were combatants… it didn’t bode well for our chances of pulling off a fighting retreat to the amphitheater. 

Not only that, if my first assessment of the townhall fighters was accurate… they were no Paragons, far from it.

At a thump on the doors, I spun around.

“Don’t mind that,” Evelyn said. “That’s just the rats trying to get in again. The doors will hold—for the time being.” 

I turned back to the matron. 

“So, tell me, Dace,” she continued. “What hair-brained scheme do you have in mind now?”

I met her gaze. “I’m here to rescue you,” I said.

“I figured as much,” Evelyn said. “How?”

“The amphitheater,” I replied. “If we can get all of the players in town up there, we stand a good chance of holding it against the ratkin.”

“The amphitheater,” the matron murmured. “I didn’t think of that.” Her gaze refocused on me. “How do we get there?”

I shrugged. “I’m not certain yet,” I admitted. “I expected to find more fighters here. With so few combatants though, I’m not sure if we will be enough to shield everyone from the ratkin as we retreat.”

“There are more fighters in the nearby buildings,” Evelyn said. She frowned. “The problem will be coordinating with them. The few Wardens that accompanied us are holding the tavern, the Windwalkers the bank, the Red Circle the general store, and the Silver Hammers the smithy. The other buildings contain a mixed force from the smaller guilds.”

I just stared at her, slightly agog. “How do you know all that?” I asked finally.

“Because we coordinated our retreat from the camps of course,” she said impatiently.

I glanced at the two dozen fighters. “Then the small contingent of fighters here…”

“Is by design,” Evelyn finished. “This was the most fortified building in the town, and I judged we didn’t need more fighters to hold it.” The matron bit her lip. “I didn’t think of taking shelter in the amphitheater. That was foolish of me.”

“You decided?” I asked. “Then you are leading the entire town’s defense?”

The matron’s lips thinned. “I may be an old woman, but I am not senile, young man.”

I raised my hands. “I didn’t mean to suggest you were,” I said placatingly. “It’s just that…”

Evelyn sighed, deflating slightly. “I’m sorry, Dace. I shouldn’t snap at you. I understand your surprise. I’m no fighter, and if it were up to me, I wouldn’t be the one in charge either.

“When the ratkin arrived, things were chaotic. Everett and his senior people were—and still are—stuck in the dungeon. And no one else seemed willing to take charge. The other guildmasters kept dithering. 

“I waited and waited for one of them to suggest something, to do something.” She shrugged. “But when no one did, I took charge.” Evelyn lowered her eyes. “And now it seems like I chose poorly. We should have retreated immediately to the amphitheater.”

I stepped forward and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. “You did better than anyone else,” I assured her. “If not for you, most of the town’s civilians would be dead already.”

“You’re right,” the matron said, shrugging off my hand. “Enough of this wallowing. Come, it’s time we planned our withdrawal.”

✵ ✵ ✵

It did not take long for the matron to pinpoint the exact location of the town’s defenders and their makeup. Evelyn’s people had created a map of the town and marked upon it the numbers and known locations of all the players.

The Weavers guildmaster had done an excellent job of organizing and dispersing the Creche’s players. Her quick actions, I was sure, had kept many of the town’s weakest alive and protected.

Yet for all that, her strategy had primarily been a defensive one, and had perhaps erred by dispersing the town’s only combat force.

“Have you tried re-establishing contact with the players in the other buildings?” I asked.

She sighed. “We have, but every party I’ve sent outside has been mobbed. The ratkin seem more willing to let us be while we remain in the buildings, but once we are out in the open, it’s like they can smell our vulnerability.”

Evelyn pressed her hands together. “I only wish I knew what was going on in the rest of town.” She looked at me. “Do you know?” 

I glanced down at the map of the town laid out on the table and traced my finger along the buildings on the western side of the town. I didn’t have the heart to tell the matron of the likely fate of the players who had taken shelter in the buildings in the northeast quarter.

“Our first task will be to regather our forces,” I said, avoiding the guildmaster’s question altogether. “But we don’t have much time to do it.”

Evelyn’s lips thinned, displeased by my evasion, but she didn’t pursue the matter further. “What do you mean?”

I gestured to the map. “The ratkin are gathered here, to the northeast. They haven’t moved en-masse into the rest of the town yet, but when they do…” I blew out a troubled breath. “Whatever is holding them there has bought us some time, but we can’t afford to delay.”

I didn’t relish the thought of running around town, informing the besieged players of our plan. Trying to coordinate our efforts that way would be a nightmare, and more crucially, would take time. And the ratkin, I was sure, would make it harder. 

Do I have enough time to reach everyone? 

“What are you thinking?” Evelyn asked quietly.

I sighed. “If all the players left their respective buildings at the same time, I don’t think there is a large enough ratkin force in town at the moment to stop us from concentrating and fighting our way to the amphitheater. The problem though, is how to set up everything in time.”

“I think I know how to do that,” Evelyn said.

I looked at her in surprise. 

“We use the messaging system,” the matron said. When I still stared at her blankly, she explained further. “The one I told you about, remember? With it, we can send messages to those leading the forces in the other buildings.”

I remembered now. “Players can send messages to each other?”

The matron shook her head. “Not directly. Messages can be sent only from a System messaging device, like the one housed in this townhall. From here, we will be able to send messages out, but the recipients will not be able to respond.”

I thought about it for a moment. It wasn’t ideal. We wouldn’t have confirmation from the other players that they would follow the plan, but it was certainly workable. “Have you sent out any messages yet?” I asked.

The matron shook her head. “No, messaging is expensive.”

I blinked. It costs money? “How much?”

“Ten gold. Per message.”

I winced at the fee. “I should have enough gold to cover the cost. Let’s—”

“No, Dace,” the guildmaster said firmly. “We have the money.” She waved her hand across the gathered players. “We collected a fund earlier for such an eventuality, but I held off sending anything until we had something important to say.”

“Alright,” I said. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

I willed out ink and paper from my inventory. “Then let’s draft our call-to-arms.”

✵ ✵ ✵

After the matron and I thrashed out the details of what we needed to say, she led me to a small chamber at the back of the townhall. The room itself was nondescript, with only five stone pedestals occupying it.

“What are these?” I asked.

Evelyn gestured at the pedestals, starting from left to right. “Guildstone, noticeboard, respawn marker, leaderboard, and lastly the messenger.”

I walked over to the guildstone and inspected it. “How do you interact with them?”

The matron shrugged as she stepped up to the System messenger. “The same way you do with one of the System vendors.” She placed her hand on the device. “It will take me a few minutes to find our intended recipients and send out the messages. Don’t be surprised if I don’t respond.”

I nodded and watched curiously as the Weavers guildmaster closed her eyes.

“Adi, can messages be sent to any player?”

“Not while in the Creche,” she replied. “The device player Evelyn is using is a level one messenger and can only reach other players in the Creche. Once you are in Sector 52, you are sure to find more powerful messengers.”

“Interesting,” I murmured. I had thought little of my life back on Earth since awakening in the Proving Grounds. Believing those I had known back on Earth to be lost to me forever, I had deliberately avoided thinking of them.

But now… can I find Doren? I had no family to speak off, and with my work consuming most of my time, few friends to speak off. Doren, a widower who had lived in the same apartment block as I had, was the only one who I would have ever labelled such. 

The old man epitomized what it meant to be a gentleman, and oftentimes seemed a relic of a bygone era. It was what I had liked most about him. We had spent many an afternoon, sipping tea and debating the foibles of humanity and the world in general… 

Perhaps, I can find him, I thought. Wherever he is, he is sure to need help, but first I have to get out of the Creche.

 I turned my thoughts outwards and looked at the guildstone in front of me. Curious, I placed my hand on it, causing a System window to unfurl.

Guild Management Window

Your current affiliations: none.

Pending guild invitations: none.

Money: 501 gold, 4 silver.

Available Options

Join a guild: not applicable, cost: 0 gold.

Leave a guild: not applicable, cost: 50 gold.

Create a guild: cost 50 gold.

Create a faction: cost 500 gold.

Found a kingdom: cost 10,000 gold.

I blinked uncertainly. Guilds, I expected and understood—or thought I did—but what were factions and kingdoms? “What is a faction, Adi?”

“Factions are a greater affiliation of players aligned to a common purpose and identity, and they usually contain multiple guilds within themselves.”

I frowned. “But other than by size, how do guilds and factions differ?”

“Factions can own territory, anything from a single settlement to an entire province. The faction leader controls everything within his faction’s zone of control—including dungeons, mines, farms, cities, and towns—and has the right to levy taxes on the players residing within the faction’s boundaries. 

“Guilds on the other hand can only own individual structures—building, houses, guildhalls, castles, and so on—and may only levy taxes on guild members.”

I nodded thoughtfully. There were more nuances to the Proving Grounds than I expected, yet these were aspects of the System that I had no interest in exploring.

Dismissing the System window, I turned away from the guildstone just as the matron opened her eyes. Her gaze was troubled.

“Problems?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing significant. I found most of the players on our list and successfully sent them our message.” Her brows furrowed. “A few though, I couldn’t reach.”

I said nothing, having a suspicion as to why that might be the case. 

The guildmaster’s gaze cleared and she met my eyes. “We’re all set. If all goes to plan, everyone will exit their buildings at 14:00 PM and make for the amphitheater.”

That was about fifteen minutes from now and would hopefully give the players stuck in the other buildings enough time to make whatever preparations they required. 

It would also give me time to put the other part of my plan in effect.

“What about Everett, you managed to contact him?” I asked quickly, feeling a renewed sense of urgency now that the clock had started counting down on our plan.

“Yes,” Evelyn replied. “He knows what we intend and will hopefully hurry to our rescue with the rest of his guild.”

I nodded. “Then I best go.”

“Go?” asked the matron, her eyebrows flicking up in surprise. “Go where?”

I hadn’t told her what I intended. “To arrange a distraction,” I said.

Her eyes widened.

Before she could protest, I said, “Someone needs to keep the ratkin occupied while the rest of you make a run for it, and I am the best person for the job.”

Evelyn’s mouth worked soundlessly. “But… but if you go out there alone, you will be killed!”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeves,” I said. “And I have no intention of dying,” I assured her.

The guildmaster studied me silently for a moment. “Just be careful, Dace.”

“I will,” I said, turning to go.

“Dace,” Evelyn called suddenly, “one more thing.”

I turned around.

She wrapped her arms around herself. “The alchemist guildmaster, I wasn’t able to reach him.” 

I kept my face expressionless. The alchemy shop, I recalled, was in the northeast of town.

“I didn’t reach Sornhal Womack, but I reached his daughter Alexis. She was the alchemist that helped you.”

This time, I wasn’t able to hide my wince of sorrow. If Alexis wasn’t already dead, she likely would be soon enough.

“I’m not asking you to risk yourself,” the matron said. “But keep an eye out for the girl and aid her if you can.”

I nodded. “I will, Evelyn,” I promised and made my way back to the townhall’s barred doors.