The Bathrobe Knight (22 page)

“So there is no way to come back?”

“No. Even if you made a boat yourself and tried to sail it back, it would just run into an imaginary wall and not go any further.”

One way . . . no. No, there has to be a way to protect the people and make it off the island. There has to be a . . . that’s it!
Darwin smiled, finally realizing what he needed to do next. Kass gave him the same weird look she always did when he smiled for what to her was no reason at all.
This idea, it’ll have to work.

Maddock
:

    The sound of waves breaking on rocks and the pounding of the surf filled the air in a cacophonous roar that wouldn't stop in the distance. Though it was approaching midday, the sun wasn't strong enough to burn off the heavy fog that had settled in during the night, and, as a result, a heavy wet blanket hung over the woodlands that lead up to the coast. After raiding Valcrest, Maddock had led his group east into the mountains surrounding the Human starter lands. They provided a sort of natural barrier between the starting areas of the Humans and White-Horns. Even though they weren't the colossal peaks rumored to populate areas of the mainland, they were large enough to require several days travel  to successfully navigate their ranges--unless, of course, you happened to travel through the ore mines that lay beneath them.  Humans and White-Horns alike had been mining the mountains of their ore for ages and a honeycomb of passages now existed beneath the peaks. Rather than spending several days traveling across the mountains, Maddock had instead decided to simply navigate the dungeon's maze and save time. The mobs that spawned there were around level thirty and were a walk-over, posing no real threat to the group at all. Even though they were hauling a cart laden with stolen goods, the group had made remarkable time.

He wasn't worried about being followed. If someone was stupid enough to try, Maddock seriously doubted that very many of the PCs in the area were high enough level to make it through the mines alone, assuming they were lucky enough to find their way through. If information filtering through the forums was correct, his nighttime raid on Valcrest had been an even larger success than he had planned. Originally, he had never had any intention of destroying the town or killing off most of the NPCs. He only wanted to raid the town for the resources before moving on to the next area. The Guild was already well funded, but why pass up an opportunity to pad the Guild bank if it presented itself? With most of the Human legions having been destroyed by the White-Horn and Black-Wing armies, it had been the perfect opportunity. Only the city Guard, had been left to defend the town, along with whatever PCs might have been logged in during the early morning hours, and those were easy enough to kill.  Very few NPCs in the starter areas were over Level 40, and then only a very few. Now, with the town in ruins and most of the NPCs killed or having disappeared, if the rumors on the boards were true, it was unlikely that anyone would be using the town as a bind point for much longer.

Maddock had made good use of his Scouts and Assassins. He knew from experience that information was the key to always being prepared; and, ever since leaving Valcrest, they had been working over time.  He had used them as front runners to scout out the dungeon in stealth. Being a higher level than the mobs there, they had been able to walk past a majority of them while invisible without having to take the time to kill them off as they went. As a result, mapping out the endless dead ends and side tunnels had been quick work and they had been able to avoid the Boss battle that lay in the center of the dungeon. After they had exited the dungeon, coming out on the coastal side of the mountain range, they had quickly located a wilderness bank, deposited their purloined loot, and ditched the cart they had been using to carry everything. The Guild had then made their way through the forest towards the harbor located on the coast. All in all, the raid and subsequent disappearance of the Guild had been a great success. They had literally made away with a King's ransom in Gold Coins, supplies, weapons, and crafting materials.

For the past day, the Guild had been camped out on the edge of the forest traveling back and forth to the harbor with supplies, getting ready to finish the summoning process that would construct a boat for them. It had been Maddock's intention to finally leave the starter areas and make his way to the mainland before everyone else had the opportunity. He knew from his experience killing everyone in the Human lands and judging by levels on the leaderboards that his entire Guild outranked almost everyone in the starter areas. Being able to tackle the higher-level mob zones there and having first crack at exploring the dungeons for loot before anyone else would help them keep that advantage.

Now, however, he was beginning to have second thoughts. Almost as soon as they had made camp after exiting the dungeon they had begun encountering White-Wing Scouts. Strung out in pairs of twos and threes they were easy enough to kill and presented no real threat to his Guild or what he was doing, but he had to question what they were doing there. Rumors had been floating around on the message boards about the White-Wings attempting an invasion of the other starter areas, but Maddock had summarily dismissed them out of hand as simple gossip. What would be the point? Raiding into the other areas would only serve a handful of purposes, most of which were made moot by the placement of the Racial areas. The Human starter area was located on an island with those of the White-Horns and Black-Wings located west of the mainland. Conflict between those Races was inevitable as players leveled and pushed the natural borders of the starter areas closer and closer together. Fighting over leveling areas and resources was the natural evolution as the game progressed. The White-Wings, however, were located on a separate island with the Fire-Walkers, a natural ally. Their own private island was to the southeast across the ocean, south of the mainland.  They had no need to fight over mob camps or resources as they had no natural enemies to create conflict with.

So why were they here? Natural curiosity of players was easy to explain. The world of Tiqpa was massive. Each area was different and incredibly unique. Wanting to explore the world and everything it had to offer was natural. The only problem was that these weren't players.  They were NPC Scouts that were clearly being sent by the White-Wing's ruling Council, or whatever form of government birds used, with a purpose in mind. What reason did they have for flying Scouts across the ocean unless they were planning on some sort of attack?

"How much longer do we need?" Maddock finally asked, breaking himself out of his internal reverie.

The figure sitting next to him shifted as he looked up in response. Even a few feet away the fog was thick enough to partially obscure him. "Couple of hours. This isn't as simple as making one of the smaller vessels."

"Hmmm . . ." Maddock mused, "Can't stand the waiting. Never could."

The other figure shrugged in response. "It can't be helped, though, can it?"

"I don't like second guessing myself, but maybe we should have gone with a few of the smaller crafts rather than spending all this time waiting for a larger one."

"Maybe. But everyone seemed to agree we might as well go for it. It's not like we're going to risk losing it unless we sail it straight into a whole army. Even then I'm not sure they'd be able to take it as long as we're all defending it and play our cards right." The other man looked back down and focused on where he was sharpening a knife.

The Guild had aspirations. They were planning on summoning in a pinnace. It was one of the smaller ships as far as ship building went in the game, but Maddock knew it was more advanced than any other Guild had summoned so far. For the most part, everyone was still working on building the crude rafts that were the first level of ship crafting available to everyone. Crafting ships was one of the most expensive crafting lines available. It took an entire Guild funneling materials to a single craftsman to even bother leveling up the skills. Unless you were an extremely wealthy merchant, or had a Guild backing you, it wasn't worth the time or effort it took. A pinnace was slightly larger, faster, and better designed to carry a big number of people; and, what excited everyone the most, it carried three separate cannons on board. Attempting to craft the ship shouldn't have even been possible at this stage in the game. It was really a bit of luck that had brought them to even attempting it. They had found a stash of rare ore in one of the strongboxes looted from Valcrest. It wasn't farmable anywhere on the starter islands, as far as Maddock knew anyway, and must have been part of the rare ore collected from one of the mines that was set to be shipped to the King.

"I definitely don't plan on being careless, but you never know what might happen once battle breaks out. If rumors are right, some of the larger Guilds might have enough people to overrun us no matter how well prepared we are or careful we try to be." Maddock stood up and began walking off towards the small harbor again that was being used for the summoning. "I'm going to check in and see if we can't speed this up any. I can't stand waiting."

Leaving the campsite behind him, Maddock began slowly making his way through the fog-cloaked woods in the direction he knew the coast to be. Even though it was hard to see where he was going, it was impossible to ignore the pounding of the surf as waves broke against the coastline. The forest in this area was relatively easy to navigate compared to some of the areas with denser growth. Massive hardwood trees that were impossible to reach around dominated the area, their tops reaching up so far their lowest branches couldn't be seen through the swirling mist.  

He estimated that he had made it about halfway to where the edge of the tree line would be before heard the sound. From somewhere above him he could have sworn he heard the sound of bark cracking. Maddock did a quick mental check without ever slowing his pace.  He never went anywhere without his massive Two-Handed Sword strapped to his back. He also carried a massive Knife strapped to his belt so large it bordered on being a small sword, which he now eased his hand onto the hilt of as he continued making his way towards the coast.  Above him, he was positive he heard the sound of bark crunching again.

Changing direction, Maddock ducked around one of the massive trees to his right and began heading in a direction that would take him on a course parallel to the edge of the tree line.  If he was right about his suspicions, he would find out soon enough. He was careful to never change his pace, just taking his time walking through the heavy fog. After counting twenty paces in his head, all the time straining his ears to listen, he turned left again, towards the coast, and stopped. He loudly shuffled his feet, taking a step first one way then another, to make it sound as if he were confused about which direction he wanted to go.

He had turned halfway around to head back in the direction he had come from when a massive force slammed itself into his shoulder from above, bringing him to the ground. As he fell over, all he could see was a flurry of white feathers.

• You have taken 82 damage!
  
• You have taken 82 damage!
  

Maddock hit the ground hard on his left side, his Armor taking most of the force of the fall. He had pulled the Knife free from his belt and was on his feet in a crouch in seconds. The sound of wings furiously beating the air filled his ears as the White-Wing struggled to quickly regain altitude behind him. The thick fog swirled around him, obscuring his vision. Somewhere above him he heard the crunching of bark breaking lose again as the White-Wing found a grip on one of the lower tree limbs. Maddock remained in a crouch, Knife ready, listening. The thick haze not only made it impossible to see, it also deadened the sounds around him, making it hard to tell exactly where anything was coming from.

After several long moments Maddock managed slowed his breathing. He couldn't hear anything but the resounding surf as it beat against the rocks of the coast in the distance. "So, that's how it's going to be," he thought to himself, "We're going to play a waiting game, huh?" He silently raised himself into a half crouch, testing how well the avian could see through the murk.  When no attack came after a few seconds, he raised to a full standing position and stood waiting again, listening. Still no attack came.

Maddock narrowed his eyes as he thought how to play this out. The White-Wing was as blind as he was in the fog. He was relying on the sound of Maddock walking to figure out where to attack from, just like Maddock was relying on the sounds of the trees to know when the attack was coming.

"Let's see how smart you are, eh?" he thought to himself. Maddock silently crouched back down and stuck the Knife blade down into the ground next to the tree. Raising himself back up, he took several small steps forward. On the fourth step, he heard the sound of the bark breaking loose as the White-Wing took to the air again. Maddock rushed forward, charging in the direction of the ocean, not caring how much noise he made.

"Thirteen . . . Fourteen . . ." Maddock mentally counted the steps as he ran. "Sixtee--" The birdman slammed into him from behind, throwing him to the ground again, and there was a flurry of wings as the White-Wing sought to take to the air once more.