Book 7, Chapters 40, 41, 42 (Patreon)

Small cliffhanger alert.

Chapter 40

Donut: THE NEW WALL IS COMING ALONG NICELY. ALSO, WE PAINTED THE CASTLE PINK. KAMAL BROKE HIS NEW LEGS AGAIN, BUT JUSTICE LIGHT SAYS HE CAN FIX THEM WITHOUT GOING INTO THE SAFEROOM. I JUST TALKED TO KATIA AND LI NA, AND THEY SAY THEY’RE DONE. KATIA IS COMING TO YOU.

Carl: Okay. We still have several hours until the warlord council. I guess I’ll see you then.

Donut: WHAT DID YOU DO WITH KING RUST’S RING AND THE NECKLACE?

Carl: Don’t worry. I can only wear one Ring of Divine Suffering. I checked. And we don’t need that necklace. He has some other magical gear we’ll distribute around. We’ll figure out what to do with it all later.   

Donut: DID YOU OPEN YOUR BOXS YET? GET ANYTHING GOOD?

Carl: Uh, I’m not sure yet. I’m working on my boxes right now.

I stared at the spellbook on the kitchen counter. It had come in my 1914 box. The book had grown little, centipede-like legs and had skittered away from me the moment it came out of the box. The thing was bigger than the books usually were, and it was dripping some foul-smelling black liquid all over the counter. It had moved to the corner of the table, shivering and making this strange, dog-like whimpering noise. Thankfully Mongo and Rend were many miles away at the base with Donut. Otherwise they’d likely attack the thing.

Above, the cleaner bot hovered, making angry, pissed-off squeals each time more of the black stuff squirted off the large book. I felt ill and pushed away my bowl of chowder. 

“What the heck is that noise?” Katia asked as she came into the room from the common area. She stopped, looking at the wet, shivering book on the counter. “Is... is that a spellbook?”  

“It is,” I said, watching the thing.

“Why is it crying?”

I hadn’t even had the chance to examine it yet.  

“Stay away! Don’t touch me!” the book shrieked. “I’ll die if you read me!” More black liquid spewed off it. It had a high-pitched, European accent. Like a ridiculous, racist caricature of an Austrian accent.

Katia and I looked at each other.

I gave a quick look to the minimap, and the book didn’t appear at all.

“Weird,” Katia said. “It doesn’t let me examine it.”

“That potion I got from the celestial box was also like this,” I said. “It doesn’t appear as a monster or NPC on the map. It doesn’t appear at all. I never saw it, but Donut’s War Crime spellbook also was like this.”

Mordecai was over in Meadowlark’s saferoom working on something with Mistress Tiatha, otherwise I’d call him over. Donut was still at the stronghold along with Tipid and Rosetta, but we’d closed off access to the saferoom, so they couldn’t easily come this way. I’d entered through one of the many saferooms in Shanty Town.

I was about to get up and grab the book, but the cleaner bot beat me to it. With an angry beep, the bot swept down, sucked up the book so it was stuck to the bottom of the bot, and it brought it to me, dropping it in my arms. It gave an angry beep at me as the quivering book started spewing more black goo. The little centipede legs scratched at me as it tried to get away.

“Please, don’t read me. Don’t read me!” the book whined.  

“You better put that thing in your inventory,” Katia said.

I was afraid it wasn’t going to let me because we couldn’t normally store living things, but I pulled it in easily.

“Gah,” I said, looking at the oily goo on my arms. I’d just taken a shower, but I would have to do it again. The robot made a harrumph-like sound and started cleaning all the liquid.

“What the hell?” I muttered, reading the description.

“What is it?” Katia asked. 

“Do you remember on the sixth floor when we’d sent the automatons after Samantha, and we’d have her run toward the hunters’ big guns? It’s kinda like that. But weirder. And a little more fucked up.”

“Weirder than sending explosive robot spiders after a deranged sex doll head?”

“Uh,” I said.

I reread the description of the spell attached to the book.   

Spellbook of Run, Little Günter, Run.

This spellbook is a Special Edition. This means you will learn this spell at level 5, and it will train up faster than usual.

Run, Little Günter, Run.

Cost: Variable. Minimum 20 mana.

Target: This is a summoning spell. It will summon a small, hominid creature named Little Günter. He will appear directly in front of caster.

Duration: Once activated, Little Günter will last 20 seconds plus one second per mana point added above the minimum. Higher spell levels decrease mana cost per second. You must activate Little Günter within 30 seconds of summoning him, otherwise he will dissipate.

Cooldown: You may cast this spell once every ten hours.

This spell summons a small, fat, child-like creature named Little Günter. Little Günter only has a single point of health and will remain in front of you until you cast a spell, use a skill, or otherwise attack him. Attacking Günter activates him. The effects of the attack will be temporarily “stored” until Günter times out. Once activated, Günter will run away from you as fast as he can.

If you designate a target, Günter will run toward your target. The stored attack will trigger once he reaches the target or times out.

If you do not designate a target, Günter will try to flee from you in a random direction.

Higher levels of this spell will decrease cooldown, increase Günter’s speed, and lower the mana cost per second. At level 10, Günter can split into a second creature after activation. This second Günter can target another enemy. At level 15, Günter can split into five different Günters.    

Warning: Once activated, Günter’s constitution will increase to that of the caster. If a second attack kills Little Günter before he reaches his target or times out, he will immediately trigger the stored attack.  

At first, I thought the spell was kind of impractical. Most melee attacks would be useless because if I kicked the thing in the head, what difference would it make where it was standing when the kick actually hurt him? But the more I thought about it, the more useful it suddenly seemed. My Daughter’s Kiss was like a bomb. If I used it on Günter, the benefit was obvious. But what if I hit him with a thrown bomb? That probably wouldn’t work. Not that I could do that anyway because he’d be right next to me when I activated him.

Still, my mind whirled with possibilities.

I explained the spell to Katia as she moved to the counter and pulled two of Donut’s now-drained hats off the charging pillows. She produced Donut’s tiara—which Donut had given her on her way here—and she carefully placed the tiara on each pillow in turn. On the tiara, three of the absorption jewels started to sparkle, joining the twenty other sparkling gems. Twenty three buffs added, 76 to go. The tiara had just gained another 10 to Constitution, a plus two enhancement to Donut’s Dodge skill—which should bring it to 15—and a 1% buff to her Intelligence. The intelligence buff was a waste of a crystal, but it was on the same hat that had the Dodge upgrade and couldn’t be avoided. Katia handed me the tiara, which I would return to Donut while the next hat would get drained. Katia placed a plastic baseball hat on the pillow. I’d never even seen the hat before, but it had a buff that would supposedly add the Steady skill, which Donut didn’t have. The other, catch-all pillow, Katia left empty for the moment.

She turned to me as I finished explaining the Little Günter spell. “That’s so weird. Is it me, or are the spells getting stranger? Did you hear about that spell Tran got? It turns his fingers and arms temporarily into noodles. It’s like completely useless. And bizarre. Do you have to be the one who attacks the thing, or can you summon it and have Donut store a trigger spell on it? What was his name? Gunther?”

“Günter, and I don’t know. It doesn’t say, but that’s a good question. There’s only one way to find out.” I sighed and pulled up the spellbook from within my inventory. I clicked on it and applied it. I felt the warmth spread over me as I learned the spell.

“Speaking of spells,” Katia said. She pulled the vial from her inventory and sat it on the table. The ink was already mixed. We both stared at it as I pulled the poke and stick tattoo kit and placed it on the table next to the ink.

I sighed. “You know, she hasn’t really talked to me since the end of the last floor. Li Na, I mean. Not since I ate Li Jun’s eye.”

“She’s not mad at you,” Katia said. “She’s mad at herself for not protecting her brother. She knows you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Is she doing okay? Did it hurt?”

“She says it didn’t hurt at all. It’s not permanent, unlike what happened with her brother. She lost five levels temporarily, but she can still use it. Intention matters. You pulled out his eye with violence when you were under control of that thing. If the blood is freely given, the potion allows you to choose the spell or skill. The tattoo itself, unfortunately, is permanent. Where do you want it?”

I had several tattoos on my left arm, but nothing on my right. “Might as well get the right sleeve started. How big does it have to be?”   

Katia pushed my sleeve back. “So, it depends on the level of the spell or skill. Since this is a level-13 skill, it has to be pretty big. I have to use all the ink in the vial, otherwise you won’t get it at full strength. It took up a third of the potion already just to make the ink. Rosetta says the tattoo doesn’t have to actually be a specific image, but if it’s ‘properly themed,’ it’ll last longer. And if it’s drawn well, it could possibly be even stronger than the original version. I don’t know what ‘properly themed’ really means in this case. Not for this. If I do it well enough, in theory, you’ll have it for the rest of the floor.”

“But Li Na won’t permanently lose the skill? Not like her brother?”

“No. And her brother got Walk on Air back, but they had to buy a book.”

A wave of guilt washed over me. Every time I thought of it, a bitter taste filled my mouth. “What about his eye? He doesn’t have that back.” I knew they kept trying to get it healed, but nothing seemed to work. There supposedly had once been a healer in Larracos that could’ve helped, but he’d died or disappeared when we’d flooded the city.  

“Again, that wasn’t your fault,” Katia said as she prepared the materials. She paused. “You know, just as an FYI. I’ll do my best, but I’ve never done a real tattoo before. I wish Edgar wasn’t, uh, preoccupied.”

“You did Samantha’s neck,” I said.

Katia chuckled. “That doesn’t count. Not gonna lie, I’m glad Donut isn’t here to look over my work. She can be a bit... critical.”

As if on cue, Donut sent a message.

Donut: KATIA MAKE SURE YOU DRAW IT IN THE VOODOO BOOK FIRST SO I CAN APPROVE AND SUGGEST CHANGES TO THE DESIGN.  

I laughed as Katia scowled.

She looked over my arm, cleaning some of the black goo from the spellbook away. “So, Carl. Got any ideas?”

I nodded. “It has to be a chain. A chain shaped like a dragon.”  

~

I came from the shower to find Louis, Elle, Imani, and Katia all in the room. The tension was palpable. My arm remained sore. On my finger, the Emberus ring was a little hotter than usual.

Zev: Okay, guys. Looks like we’re doing this warlord council whether we like it or not. The Syndicate council tried to cancel the whole thing, but the AI is insisting everything go on like normal, and that includes broadcasting the meeting in real time. You’ll be transported to the production facility like before. The other warlords—all except Juice Box—will also be in the production facility with you, but in different, randomized rooms, so you can’t hurt each other.

Carl: Why is Juice Box not coming?

Zev: It’s a technical issue as there are protections in place disallowing dungeon born into the facility. She’ll be in the meeting, but she’ll appear virtually from the castle. They’re allowing Ferdinand in. He’ll likely be in the same room as you. Like the same same room, so just a head’s up.  

Donut: ARE WE GOING TO OUTER SPACE FIRST LIKE WE SOMETIMES DO?

Zev: Uh, no. That ship is unfortunately unavailable. They’re still doing a security check, but it’ll be on site. So don’t try to smuggle anything in.

Carl: I would never dream of it.

Zev: Transporting you in ten seconds. I’ll meet you over there.

I looked at the four other people standing in the room. “It’s time for me to go.”

“Have fun,” Elle said, grinning without humor. Behind her, Mordecai strolled into the room, his arms full of potion balls. Behind him, Mistress Tiatha also entered. She struggled with the coils and coils of wire in her arms.   

I felt the first tingles of teleportation.

Operation: Snake Pit had officially begun.

Chapter 41

Entering Production Facility.

Donut yowled as we landed in the room. All my menus snapped off. My ears popped, and a quick, strange nausea swept over me. I had to sit down on the couch. Donut moved to jump onto my lap but paused, tilting her head to the side.

“Carl, are you okay? You look like Miss Beatrice after she started taking all those diet pills.”  

“I’m okay,” I said, resisting the urge to rub my arm. “Seriously. It’s fine.” I patted my lap. 

She jumped into it and just sat there for a minute. She hesitantly reached over with a paw and examined the new, shining tattoo on my right forearm. She let out a dissatisfied grunt. “You’re starting to look like one of those white rapper doodle notebook guys, Carl. And it’s a little crooked! I knew I should’ve been there.”

“It’s not crooked,” I said. “The system said it’s expert quality. I talked to Edgar, and he said that’s the second highest one can get.”  

Donut didn’t look impressed. “I should’ve been there. Closing the saferoom off from the base is causing all sorts of problems. Not only have we been separated, but Tipid has to build more bathrooms, and it’s disgusting. The whole base smells like your friend, Sam. Nobody is able to take a shower. I will not have a filthy army. We need to purchase an upgrade to the base’s hygiene facilities before we descend into further chaos.”

“Chaos? It’s only been like 10 hours.”

“Which is much too long to be living in filth, Carl. Do you know what comes with filth? Clutter. And with clutter comes squalor. Just because you now look like someone who’s required by law to knock on the neighbor’s door to tell them you’re moving in, it doesn’t mean you should be okay with squalor. Plus that disgusting pet of yours keeps eating everything he can find on the ground. He’s a terrible influence on Mongo.”

I patted her. “Tell Tipid you want showers installed, and if he doesn’t do it, tell Rosetta.”

She swished her tail. “They’re both too busy building other things. I think you should tell them. I don’t like being separated from you like this.”

“Again, it’s only been a few hours. We’ll be together again soon. Something tells me we won’t be spending too much time at the stronghold once we start moving offensively.”

Donut let out a harumph. A big part of the plan to take the Naga castle involved subterfuge. And that required Donut and I to be separated for an extended period. She did not like that.

We hadn’t actually planned for this—the warlord council—but it was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. But it also meant I needed to rely on others to make the first move while the sultana was here with me and Donut.

Our job right now was to make this meeting go on as long as possible while the team infiltrated into naga territory while also making it look like we were massing on the northern border to push into the former-Operatic territory.

Ferdinand zapped into the room, followed by a good five seconds of absolute chaos. He hit the ground with a screech. The large, orange cat panicked, his feet scrambling, Scooby-Doo style. “Don’t hit me. Don’t hit me. I’m sorry,” he cried before bouncing off the corner of the room, flying across the small chamber, knocking half the playing cards off the counter, launching off my shoulder, howling the whole time before running in multiple circles, his ears pinned back.

He stopped in the middle of the room, low to the ground, panting, eyes wide before he finally focused on me and Donut staring at him. He took a breath and composed himself, sitting up straight. He wasn’t wearing a hat like he usually did, and he looked strangely naked. He smelled like smoke and alcohol, and it appeared as if he hadn’t been grooming himself.

“Hey, kitten,” he said to Donut. “How goes the war?”

“Ferdinand,” Donut said. “I told you not to call me that. Have you left that bar once since...”

A trio of gnolls in power armor entered the room.

“We’re here for your security check. Don’t move,” one of them said as they each moved toward us. Their feet clonked on the floor. Despite being in the earthbound production facility, these guys were wearing the same outfits they wore in the space station. I briefly wondered on that.

Ferdinand hissed and jumped away while Donut swished her tail angrily. The gnoll looked me up and down, hyena face expressionless as he started to rapidly pat me down. He ran a scanner over me. “No explosives on your person?”

“Are you doing this same check to the other warlords?” I asked.

The gnoll grinned. “We are, in fact. You should hear that orc prince shout. Almost made this whole shitshow worth it, if you wanna know the truth.”

“Not a prince anymore,” I said. 

“That’s right, innit? He’s now a king. Makes it even sweeter to my tooth. This one is clear,” the gnoll said, backing up.

“Same,” said the other standing over Donut.

“Quit running away. I need to scan ya,” the third one called at Ferdinand, who hissed and swiped.

“Just get it over with,” Donut said, exasperation in her voice. “Ferdinand, they’re not here to hurt you. That guard’s name is Neelii, and he’s very nice if you get to know him.”

I had no idea how Donut knew the name of the guard, but she always made it a point to know everybody’s name.

Ferdinand paused. He’d backed into the corner of the room.

“Do you have any weapons on you?” the third gnoll—Neelii—asked Ferdinand.

“I got my claws, you cur,” Ferdinand hissed. His words did not match his voice as he was clearly terrified.

Neelii sighed and waved a scanner over the orange cat. “He’s clear.”

And without another word, the three guards clanked out of the room.

“That’s right. You run away,” Ferdinand called at the backs of the gnolls, his voice cracking. “You’re lucky you didn’t get the slish slash.”

Just as the door closed, Zev teleported into the room with a pop and splash of water. Ferdinand screeched anew and scrambled up to the counter, his back arching as he hissed.

“My word, you are especially high strung today,” Donut said.  

“Hi Zev!” Donut said, jumping over to give the tired-looking kua-tin a headbutt.

“Oh, it’s you,” Ferdinand said to Zev after a moment. He remained up on the counter.

Donut peered up at the cowering cat. “Really, Ferdinand. Quit being such a wuss. You’re embarrassing yourself. And how do you two know each other?”

“We’ve met,” Zev said, sounding sour.

“Where’s the Juice?” Ferdinand asked.

“Like I told you multiple times,” Zev said, “She’s staying in the castle during this.” 

Donut walked circles around Zev, rubbing against her. The small fish creature had to struggle to keep upright. Donut lowered her voice to a whisper. “Did you really think the orc lady was going to blow everything up? That had to be scary. I only thought it was going to happen for like two minutes, and it was scary for me.”

“We did think it was going to happen, but what happened instead is even scarier. Have you heard what’s going on?”

“No. We haven’t heard anything,” I said.

“Oh my gods, it’s just awful,” Zev said, looking back and forth. “They’re talking about mounting a rescue, but the tunnel access has been cut off. With the node gone, even the old Borant travel system won’t work.”

“Wait, what?” I asked. “Rescue of what? What happened?”

“So, all this info is just a few hours old, and the details are still coming in. But after Formidable teleported away, her ship continued to the destination and just sort of stopped. They waited a few hours, but when it was clear the princess wasn’t returning, a few orcs went into the station and manually triggered the failsafe system themselves.”

“Well, that obviously didn’t work,” Donut said.

“No. They tried triggering it, and nothing happened here. But the moment they pressed the button, the Aryl system went dark.”

I blinked. Aryl? Where had I heard that before?

“What does that mean?” Donut asked.

“Aryl was the location of the previous crawl. It was a battle royale-style season. The planet was free of citizens, but there are tens of thousands of people still in the solar system, mostly those on mining ships and mineral reclamation finishing the clean up. Apparently the AI had stopped communicating a few weeks back, and there was also a team on the surface investigating why. That’s all I really know. The whole system is now dark, and it appears the tunnel node is offline. That’s.... You need to understand that has never happened before. Never in history has a tunnel node just switched off like that.”

“What?” I asked. “You can’t turn off the tunnel?”

“No! Even before the Plenty figured out how to open the nodes for communication and travel, we could see them. They were a map of the stars, pointing us to all of the seeded worlds. We’ve seen systems go supernova, but the tunnel nodes remained active. We didn’t even know it was possible for a tunnel strand to just disappear. It happened the very moment, like the exact nanosecond, the orcs hit the failsafe, and nobody knows what it means.”

I was still stuck on the other thing she’d said. “All the citizens were off the planet? What was it? Aryl? What about those who didn’t participate in the crawl? Wasn’t this just a few years ago? Where are they?”

“Uh,” Zev said. “That was a Squim season. They do things a little differently. There were some survivors, but they were relocated.”

“But we don’t know if the planetary system is destroyed or not? Could everything be fine and the communication node is just offline?”

“That’s right,” Zev said. “But it is strange. The AI from the previous season was still working, but it had stopped talking, which is also unusual. I don’t think anybody knew that until today. I don’t actually know all the details. But they said it’ll be at least three cycles before we know if the star is still there. That’s how far the closest neighbor is. It’s 2.9 light cycles away. Even the old Borant gate system won’t work with the node gone. It’s terrifying.”

“When did that other AI go offline?” I asked, suddenly feeling a little... Actually, I wasn’t sure how I felt. “Does it line up with...” I tapped the side of my head. 

“No. And like I said, it wasn’t offline. It was working but silent, which is exactly what... It doesn’t matter. It was before your meeting with that residual. It sounds like it was sometime during the sixth floor, so even before the current season truly, uh, went off track.”

“Yo. Donut told me we sometimes get snacks,” Ferdinand said. He remained up on the counter. “I’m looking, Zev. But you know what I’m not seeing? Snacks.” A few playing cards remained on the counter, and he pushed them off the edge and glared.

Zev sighed as her small info pad beeped.

“There’ll be refreshments at the meeting. It’s time to go.”   

Chapter 42

<Note added by Crawler Drakea, 22nd Edition.>

The naga. Beware the naga. They are cunning, and sometimes I wonder if they can read one’s mind. The others say that the mantids are the masters of strategy, but I do not believe this. Even though everything seems to be going wrong for the nagas this season, I cannot shake the idea that this all isn’t part of some grand scheme. Underestimate them at your own peril.

~

“Warlord Carl will sit here, and Warlord Donut will sit here,” the mexx robot said. It was a different one than last time. I missed its designation when it introduced itself, but Donut was calling it Carla.

“You, Warlord Ferdinand will sit here,” the robot said, indicating a spot on the other side of the table. Just as it said that, Juice Box suddenly appeared, already sitting at the table next to Ferdinand’s spot. She was leaned over a map of some sort, and she quickly pushed it away so it disappeared.  

Juice Box was in a human form, wearing a black, skintight bodysuit with long, straight black hair and round glasses. She had a red emblem on her chest that I was pretty sure was supposed to be a cobra head.

“Ferdinand, sit,” Juice Box snapped at the cat, who’d jumped to the center of the table and was sniffing suspiciously at a bowl of what looked like trail mix. She used her regular voice, which was slightly incongruous with the form she’d taken.

The orange cat muttered and walked over to his spot, sitting on the raised chair and started grumbling more about the snacks.

I met eyes with Juice Box, and she gave me a slight nod. That was all I needed to know. If Britney had done her job properly, then Team Retribution’s greatest assets were already getting to work.

I still needed to talk to the changeling about the extra tunnels she had dug around our own base. These tunnels had saved our ass, and Rosetta had known about them, suggesting there wasn’t anything truly nefarious about them all. But I still didn’t like being in the dark. But I had put off asking Juice Box about it. I still hadn’t spoken with Rosetta about it, either. I didn’t want to risk damaging our relationship with Team Retribution. Not until we were done with this next part, as their help was crucial.

Ferdinand started loudly explaining to Juice Box how he “chased off” the gnoll guards. Juice Box, for her part, seemed oddly distracted. I was about to ask her if she was okay when there was a flash, and a new creature appeared in the room. He stood off to the side of the room, his glittering jacket twinkling in a spotlight had also just suddenly appeared. The winged wolf creature clutched onto a long microphone. In his other hand was a lint roller, and he furiously started rubbing it up and down his jacket.

I blinked, exchanging a look with Donut.

“Chaco?” Donut asked. “Carl, why is Chaco here?”

“Oh, hello, Carl and Donut,” Chaco said from across the room. The former-skyfowl-turned-gameshow-host used the lint roller to wave at us. “Magnificent Troy was going to be the field correspondent, but he’s refusing to come down to the surface. He’s afraid of getting stuck down here, so they told me I have to do it. From what it sounds, it’s actually more dangerous up there right now. I’ll be here asking questions, Kevin remains in the studio from orbit, and your adjutants will also be live commenting in a window, but I don’t think you’ll get to see any of that.”

“I remember you,” Ferdinand said, looking Chaco up and down. “You were at the prize counter at the Butcher’s Masquerade. You refused to give me the potion in your case, and I told you that you were sentenced to death.”

Chaco grunted at the cat. “Hello, Gravy Boat. Hello, Juice Box.”   

“Don’t call me that,” Ferdinand said.

Cascadia appeared at the head of the table, right next to Juice Box. Ferdinand yelped and hissed as water splashed over the table. I felt the splash. She was really here, in this room with us. That was interesting.

She looked at me and said, “I just can’t wait to see how you make everything worse today.”

I was about to respond when the rest of the warlords started appearing, one after another.

The newly-crowned King Stalwart appeared immediately to our right, sandwiched between Cascadia and Donut. The tall orc wore a glittering, golden crown upon his head. His ever-present frown seemed etched on his orc face.

Across the table and next to Ferdinand appeared Warlord Fang of the Reavers. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been in the form of an old school robot. Now he appeared as a slight, wide-eyed, thin human male, maybe 20 years old, with skin that was just a little too pink. He wore what appeared to be white underwear and a t-shirt. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on him. I could only tell he was a robot based on the line of flashing lights off the side of his temple.

To his immediate right sat Architect Houston of the Madness. The last time I’d seen this guy, he’d tried to shoot me right after the Sortion guy had killed himself. He looked much the same as last time, though I did note his white mask with the red teardrop thing in the center did have a very slight dent in the top corner. That hadn’t been there before.

Then came Epitome Tagg of the Dream. The bald elf looked as if he came straight from the battlefield. His utilitarian armor had a splash of blood across it, and I wondered who’d he’d been fighting. By all reports, he hadn’t been seen on the battlefield yet. At least not against any of our forces.

And then, between Tagg and myself, she materialized.

The sultana. The warlord of the Blood Sultanate.

 She did not have a chair, and her giant, white body appeared, coiled next me, bigger than I was expecting.

My breath caught in my throat.

In real life, this woman was the daughter of the sultan. In recent years, their system had become both a tourist destination and a location where other, non-Reaver governments built their factories because of the cheap labor. Outside the dungeon, this princess was both a war veteran and lead advisor to her father. But here in the game, she portrayed a historical queen from their own history called the Sepsis Whore. They usually lost faction wars immediately, but they continued to participate to supposedly help drive tourism to their system.

In fact, that they were still in-game after the defeat of three other teams was something that hadn’t occurred in a very long time, according to Victory.   

Every other warlord in the room was glaring at Stalwart. All except the naga. The woman looked down at me, smiling amiably. A chill washed over me, and I remembered Drakea’s words in the cookbook. Underestimate them at your own peril.

I’d seen several nagas at this point, but I’d never seen anything quite like this woman. Her very presence was electric, and I had to make an effort to close my mouth. I hadn’t had a reaction like this since I’d first seen Signet on the third floor, but that had been a magical charm. And that had been a physical attraction. Such effects were not active here in this room. Still, I felt this overpowering sense of awe. I felt... small in her presence. This was how a mouse felt when it was placed into the cage with a snake. Of all the leaders in this room, she had something the others did not. She hadn’t even opened her mouth yet, and I felt it. I wasn’t even sure what it was. She just sat there, a beacon of strange charisma, and she was looking at me.  

 I felt my heart beating faster than normal. Fear and uncertainty washed over me.

This isn’t going to work. This isn’t going to work. She knows what we’re doing. 

Manassa, the assassinated singer, had been a large, silver and black cobra-like creature with four arms. Nihit, the reporter I’d stabbed in the neck with a pen and who was now the adjutant for the defeated Prism team of Empress D’Nadia had also been a four-armed snake, with purple and black coloring. Rishi, the Blood Sultanate guard who’d appeared at the last council meeting was green and purple with a muscled, armor covered upper torso.

The female naga who sat coiled next to me now was half again as big as any of them. I looked up at her, at a loss for words. She was a brilliant, glossy white with a hint of golden scales along the edge of her wide, cobra hood. She, too, wore a golden breastplate. Embossed into the center of the breastplate was a symbol I’d never seen before. It looked like a tree branch with a single flower upon it.

But strangest of all was that this naga had six arms, not four. Each arm was covered in golden bracelets.

The woman gazed down at me. Her eyes were solid red with no hint of pupils or slits or whatever they were called in other snakes. The other nagas did not have eyes like this.

“Carl,” she said, her voice sounding surprisingly feminine for such a large creature. It was like we were the only two in the room. “I don’t believe we’ve properly met.” She held out her lowest arm and offered it to me, palm down. “My name is Princess Vinata. But for these games, you’re welcome to call me the Whore.”

I instinctively went to grab her hand, but my hand went right through hers.

If our plan worked properly, this woman would be dead in the next few hours. It suddenly seemed so ridiculous that we were even going to attempt to hurt her.

“Uh, hello,” I found myself saying. I was expecting Donut to pipe in, but she was currently distracted by something happening across the table. I couldn’t look away from the naga’s blood-red eyes.    

The spell was broken by the sound of Chaco, who’d suddenly appeared right next to me, his fuzzy head ridiculously close to mine. He stage whispered, “Tension hangs heavy in the air. The hunter and the hunted stare at each other. But who is hunting whom? They are being polite in this setting, but they both know the other has to die. It’s only a matter of time before it all comes to a head.”

He shoved the microphone me. “Carl, how do you feel right now?”

“Get that out of my face.”     

“Hello, warlords,” Cascadia said, causing Chaco to back off. She sounded tired and resigned, and that fish-like scent from last time was even greater than before. Her scales had fallen off in some places, and the ones that remained had taken on a dull, sickly sheen. This seemed beyond just stress. Was she sick? “We are gathered today for the first of two...”

But she was interrupted as both Donut and Ferdinand burst out laughing. They’d been silently chuckling since the warlords all appeared, but neither could contain it further. Ferdinand was suddenly on his back, splayed over the table with his paws upward, howling. “I gotta tell you, kitten. When you’re right, you’re right.”

“I told you,” Donut said, also laughing uncontrollably. “I told you. Oh my goodness. I think I’m going to wee myself. You can’t make this up.”

Cascadia just sighed, not even bothering to admonish the two cats. All around the table, the other warlords just scowled at them. All except Princess, what was her name? Princess Vinata, who continued to just look down at me, smiling. I had to tear my attention away back to Donut.

I had no idea what was so funny.  

Chaco was suddenly back, now standing closer to Donut. “Chaco here, reporting live from what’s sure to be a contentious warlord council. The meeting hasn’t even started yet, and it appears both warlords Donut from the Princess Posse and warlord Ferdinand from Team Retribution have fallen into hysterics. Princess Donut, can you tell us what’s so amusing?”

He shoved the microphone at Donut.

Donut pointed a paw up at Stalwart, who sat right next to her, glaring down at the cat. “The crown. He’s actually wearing a crown. Before the meeting, I messaged with Ferdinand, and I bet one gold piece he’d actually be wearing one, and look! Look!”

“He really does look stupid in that thing,” Ferdinand added.

Stalwart sputtered and growled.   

“Does King Stalwart look stupid wearing the crown? Let’s vote!” Chaco said. “Right now, all of you at home will have...”

When Stalwart punched Chaco, I wasn’t expecting it to actually work. Apparently the two were in the same room. The orc stood and swung, and his ring-covered fist smacked Chaco straight in the face with a wet, loud splatch. The former crawler’s head snapped back with an oof, and he slid across the room, collapsing in a heap. His microphone rolled away, and his lint brush fell from his pocket. Blood seeped from the wolf’s mouth before he blinked and disappeared.

Stalwart made a pig-like grunt and returned to his chair.

Nobody said anything for several moments.

Donut looked about the room. “Am I able to vote? Because that’s most definitely going to be a yes vote from me.”    

System Message: Warning: Scolopendra Stirs.

That changed the mood of the room. Everyone, even Ferdinand grew silent.  

“Uh, has that ever happened before?” I finally asked.

“No,” someone answered. It was Epitome Tagg.

Cascadia laughed. It had a hint of madness to it. “Well, why not? Why the fuck not?”

~~

Hello everyone! Thanks for your continued support! This upcoming weekend, I will be at Crypticon in Seattle. It’s my favorite con, and it’s the one con I’d attend just for fun if I could. If you’re there, please come say hello. There won’t be any readings or anything like that, but I am on several writing-themed panels.

Thanks for your continued support. Apologies for not finishing the meeting with this update, but I’m still fiddling with the ‘plan.’ I will very likely retcon the materials we see Mordecai and Tiatha carrying when they enter the saferoom. I hope you’re all doing great. I’m hoping to soon have a cover reveal for the Ace version for you soon. Luciano is also about to get to work on the book 7 cover.