“Got it!” Capello said. “So, we won’t attack him unless you give the secret signal.”
Van sighed. “No, there will be no secret signal. And we’re not trying to attack him, remember? We’re just trying to convince him to let us join his army so we can recruit people. If we pull this off, we’ll probably be able to join that massive fight today.”
“Well, we better get going,” Sahara said, pointing to the armies. They had already begun to engage in a serious battle. It looked as if it was going to be a defensive engagement for the Melvanians, as they were busy trying to protect the bridge from the Kyrissian forces trying to push their way in. Forces on both sides of the stream were piling up, preparing for a charge.
“Yeah, let’s move, team!” Van said as he and his group quickly made their way toward the back of the Melvanian forces. A large tent had been set up, and Van could see that there was a solid wall of guard NPCS surrounding the tents.
Van paused and looked at Sang, who was stuffing some pieces of chicken in her bag. “How are we doing with Jet?”
Sang shrugged, “He’s fine, I suppose. He’s getting a little bigger, but still not speaking anything coherent.”
“Anyone ask about him?” Van asked.
“Well, they all wanted to know if he was going to grow any time soon, but I made up a bunch of crap about missing the merchant and insufficient levels. They bought it for now,” Sang whispered. “But let’s try to keep him out of sight as long as we can.”
“Good thinking,” Van replied as he nodded.
“So Edwardson, he’s in there?” Sang asked.
“Yeah, we’re going to need to appeal to him directly, so hopefully this should work,” Van said as he approached the NPCs.
“Halt!” said one of the guards. He was wearing orange and black armor, and looked somewhat like a Halloween decoration. “This area is off-limits to those who are not members of the Melvanian army.”
“My name is Van and I’m with the Iron Dragons Mercenary Company. We’re here to petition Captain Edwardson for the right to serve in this year’s campaign.”
“You may enter!” the NPC said as he stepped aside. “But be warned, if you attempt anything, the entire camp will be put on high alert.”
Van looked back at his ragged team. They were worn, exhausted, and their clothes were still heavily stained with blood, but he was most worried about their behavior. All it would take to invoke the ire of the captain would be one smartass comment, and then they’d probably be massacred.
Van approached the tent, where he could hear a familiar voice.
“Well, if we waste anymore time on this bridge, we’ll probably end up having to get more reinforcements from Castle Melvin. That’s going to take some time. How can we win this quickly?” asked Captain Edwardson. Van knew his voice instinctively. During the Stranger Invasion Event a few years back, every time Sleep Time had ended, every player would log in to access some kind of audio report from him. He was a dedicated role-player and a tireless worker. Van was a little thrilled to meet him, but also a bit hesitant due to the fact that Edwardson was linked to Draco. This meant he couldn’t be trusted.
“Excuse me,” Van said as he walked into the tent. The rest of his team followed along. The tent was modestly sized, able to house a dozen soldiers. There was a big table in the center with a large map of the region ornately drawn upon it. Edwardson was standing over the map and giving instructions to a runner.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Edwardson asked as he turned to face Van. The man was in his mid-thirties, clean shaven. and had a noble air about him. He wore plate mail armor, but eschewed the traditional colors of the Melvanian armor in favor of having a simple banner emblazoned on the chest of the banner.
“Oh, hi,” Van said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but my name is Semimodo. This here is the Iron Dragon Mercenary Company.”
“Mercenaries?” Edwardson replied. He raised an eyebrow. “It’s rare to find mercenaries who are interested in taking work from a kingdom that exclusively fights its neighbor at any chance it gets. Most people would prefer to join a kingdom that will actually gain enough land to award some of it to those who participate in the campaign.”
“We’re newly formed, and we’re looking to build a reputation—not necessarily to gain land,” Van said.
“Ah, I see. Well, I must say, I am impressed with your motley crew here. Almost a full minute of conversation and no one has uttered as much as a peep. They must be very loyal to you,” Edwardson replied as he walked up and down the ranks of the Iron Dragons, inspecting each of them.
Van winced when he watched Edwardson get his face very close to Capello’s. But much to Van’s surprise, Capello didn’t do anything other than stand and stare blankly forward.
“Well, why should I invite you to join my organization? You don’t seem well equipped, and you’re rancid, poorly dressed, and worst of all, I don’t see any decent levels on you. I mean, no one here is above Level 30? Not really the kind of people that I would like to join my crew.”
“I absolutely understand your hesitancy there, sir,” Van said. “But you underestimate my people and their desire to win a fight. We can be extremely useful! Sahara is a wizard, Bidane is a cleric, and I’ve got two stealthy characters perfect for a strike team; the rest of us are useful in a fight.”
Edwardson wrinkled his face at that. “Well, everyone is accounted for, except for you. You don’t particularly look like the kind of person who could survive a single hand-to-hand encounter, let alone an entire army.”
“Oh, I’m a bard, so my talents lie in organizing people and leading them to win. My powers are useful for inspiring soldiers.”
“Yes, but I’m looking at your character build and it is abysmal. Why in the hell is your Charisma only 10? Did you decide to build a character who was the anti-bard, incapable of inspiring anyone? I’m sorry, Van—while I am impressed with the make-up of your team, you’re not a particularly well put together character. This indicates that either you weren’t paying attention when you made him, or that you’re brand new to the game. Either way, I’m not interested in working with someone like you.”
“Aw, come on, there’s got to be some way you’d let us join in,” Van said. “It’ll cost you nothing to let us be a part of your team. We’ll get the same rewards as everyone else, and you get a few more specialists on your side.”
Captain Edwardson shook his head and walked over to the map, dropping his gaze from them and focusing only on the board. “My apologies, Van, but I’m not a man who is in the habit of repeating himself.”
“Allow me,” Kenwar said as he strolled over to Edwardson. He leaned forward and began to whisper into the captain’s ear. Van craned his neck to listen in on their conversation, but he couldn’t hear them. After a few moments, Edwardson turned to face the team.
“Apparently, this colleague speaks very highly of you all. He would wholeheartedly recommend that I take your team aboard, despite the fact that you don’t meet my normal requirements. The testimony of a professional player is quite highly regarded around these parts, though... Don’t make Mr. Kenwar regret his decision.”
“So, we’re in?” Van asked.
“Yes, you’re in. Your first task is a simple one. There is a wagon train carrying healing supplies from the east toward this battle. The only problem is that the wagon train isn’t on our side, but belongs to our enemies,” the captain said. “Go take care of it. Either destroy it, loot it, or hijack it and bring it to me; I don’t care how you handle it. I just don’t need the enemy players receiving a massive shipment of healing potions.”
“Perfect!” Van said. “We’re on it.”
And with that, Van and the team hastily left the tent.
“Oh, I cannot believe we pulled that off!” Sahara said. “I wanted to make so many jokes!”