I stepped back and looked up. "Zena?"
"You blind or what, blondie?" I heard a squeak from below. A female goblin's steel boot gave my knee cap a rather sensitive kick.
She—Zena, apparently—stepped forward, shaking her head. "All you men are alike, really. Stupid as old boots. All you can think of is a pair of boobs. No one's interested in a girl's psyche. What are you staring at? Come on, General, the team's awaiting your orders," she glared at me with sarcastic interest, as if expecting this old boot to speak.
All that time, I was mentally swearing, wishing every ill on the goblin consultant's green head. Sullen squad, he said? Very well, then.
"Right!" wincing from their sarcastic grins, I cleared my throat and said in my most imposing voice, "Enough of your feminist trash! What are your names, girls?"
The rosy smiles waned on the warrior goblins' mugs. They exchanged puzzled glances. So they didn't like me breaking the mold, then?
The leader was the first to regain her composure. "Zena's team, all-female Sullen squad, number 18 in the independent mercs' ratings. Levels 140 plus, gear unique plus. On twenty-four hour hire until o-fourteen hundred hours tomorrow. Today's agenda: rushing the customer from level 52. I recommend the Oasis location, it's teeming with amphibians levels 60 to 100. Freckle Face will port us there, she's our wizard, Freckles for short as it's quite a mouthful in the heat of battle. First we need the Ferryman to jump us to the Frontier, then Freckles will set up a navigational beacon so that tomorrow she can jump us from there herself. Now what next? I can see you've already met our warrior? Yes, Bomba is very likeable, her boobs certainly are," she grinned.
She pointed to a small goblin maiden all kitted out in complex leather armor, her two swords hanging recklessly from two steel rings on her hips. The naked blades emitted a burgundy sheen, sparkling occasionally. At the time, the maiden was ignoring us, engrossed in a heated discussion with some merc over the pros and cons of the latest trend in power leveling, Savage-style. Whoever Savage was and whatever advantages his modus operandi could offer, I didn't have the slightest idea.
"This is Whizz, our rogue. A mage killer. Note the swords. I don't think you've recognized them. Those are Vampire's Fangs, both of them, mind you. There're only seven full sets of them in the whole cluster."
The last one was a quiet enchanter chick going by the moniker of Charmsy. God only knew how she'd ended up in that bunch. She stayed behind the others' backs, blushing every time somebody paid attention to her.
I clapped my hands, asking for silence. "Attention, ladies! Let's get this show on the road. Once we jump to the Frontier, the ferryman's job's done. Then it's Zena's turn to give orders until further notice. I warn you all, I've never had to hire anyone to level me before, so I apologize for any blunders. Ready, everyone? Off we go."
With a long spell and an almighty pop, we teleported to the location.
The bright blue sky spread overhead, the white-hot ball of the sun blazing against the back of my head. Good job we had to start out the next morning. As our wizard got busy setting up a navigational beacon, I had a good look around. The scenery reminded me of the African savannah with its vast open spaces interspersed with rocky outcrops and formidable canopied trees.
A massive mountain ridge loomed on the horizon. I checked the map: that's right, that was exactly where I had to go. The savannah was anything but empty, dotted with single figures beelining in every direction. About half a mile from us, a pride of aggro lions lounged in the shade of a tree. With any luck, we should make it past them.
"All done!" Freckles reported.
Zena glanced at me. I nodded: it was her turn to give orders. She gave me a faint smile. You never knew, we could make a good team.
The portal to Oasis will open in 5... 4... 3...
Bang!
Oh. The location was different but the white-hot plasma ball was still blazing overhead.
"Report!" Zena ordered, studying the area.
The rogue answered first. Apparently, she was the one responsible for reconnaissance and counter PK measures.
"There're two hundred seventy players in the location. Roughly one PK group—the Pratz, low level, no threat for us, plus three singles we're not sure of, all three on the unofficial black list, each already implicated in a few unmotivated attacks. Chat activity: standard. Everything OK," she added in a calmer voice.
"Buffs for all! For the team, type four, anti PK. For the client, type six: DpS, plus you can add whatever you have as magic resists, all kinds. Make sure we don't lose him, that would be a shame to end all shame."
Then she saw Hummungus who'd just appeared next to me, followed by the summoned pet. "And throw in some buffs for his critters too, for hits and damage."
She made a few steps toward the hissing teeth-baring demon and studied the infernal monster. "Who are you, dude?" she shook her head, uncomprehending. "You wouldn't believe it if they told you, a level 52 Death Knight with a level 65 pet. Either you're worth more than a Bentley or I just don't get it."
I gave her a wink, trying to look as cool as a cucumber. Which wasn't easy. Level sixty goddamn five! I was my own train! In his new gear, Hummungus looked truly brutal and as dangerous as a busload of AK-47s. This was going to be a ride!
Buffed up like a power house, I felt impregnable.
"Mana at sixty," Zena reported for the team's sake.
"Seventy," Charmsy echoed.
"Whizz? Make a quick area check, nose to the ground, security evaluation. Give us a couple minutes, then you can pull the first croc."
Zena turned to me. "That's it, then. We're at the Oasis. Sort of miniature Nile delta. The further down the river, the tougher the mobs. Reptiles and other water beasties, mainly: crocs, hippos, a few gators."
"Excellent! See you later, alligator," I waved my hand at the Oasis.
"In a while, crocodile. One last thing: you'd better keep an eye on the Roc."
I looked around, searching for any Gibraltar-shaped cliff.
"The bird," she corrected me. "Level 100-plus. It comes hunting a couple times a day. She can take you out without you even noticing it."
I nodded.
"Now for the pull," she went on. "Whizz will keep increasing the pull speed until she feels your limit. Try to aim for about 50% hits, the rest we'll take care of, you get the XP. The ideal time/XP ratio is when the pulled mobs are 10% above you—15% even, given your critters. In our case, it's level 60 give or take. That's it, quit yapping, here she comes with a gator."
Indeed, the little goblin chick was already scampering toward us pursued by a huge croc. Rotting weeds and fountains of sand burst from under its massive clawed feet. Gosh, I hated those yellow-eyed monsters. Good job I wasn't a warrior. At least I didn't have to step in the creature's way blocking its access to the group's soft underbelly: the casters.
Whizz rushed past us. The croc was only a few paces away when Freckles stood up and cast a spell. Powerful roots burst out of the sand, entangling the creature's feet.
"Don't sleep," Zena poked me in the shoulder. "He's all yours. Whizz is off to get a new one."
I shook myself free from my stupor. Okay, so this was a croc, big and stinking of fish, so what? Teddy, demon, attack! The still-restrained croc growled happily at seeing a proper opponent. He sunk his teeth into the demon's hip. The creature showered it with blows, Teddy's mithril claws tearing through the croc's hide. The stench of fish was overpowering. The waves of uprooted sand lashed us like a tropical storm: three bulldozers locked in combat on a dune top. In silent agreement we stepped back, spitting out the sand.
Zena cringed, sniffing her glove stinking of fish guts. "Gosh! I'd already forgotten how shitty it is out here!"