The MMRPG Apocalypse

There were no corpses on the landscape around us, but I did see the bones of animals occasionally, and oddly shaped skulls.

While I was studying the ground around the city walls, Lucas had been watching the merchants. “They are using coins to get in and the merchants have small bags of coins.”

“We have no money, so we are going to have to talk our way past the guards,” I said. So far, silver and copper and gold pieces hadn’t dropped yet, but I could see Lucas was right: these merchants were clearly exchanging them as currency. Perhaps coinage was a feature of this pocket dungeon? On the other hand, the world was constantly changing outside and coins might have been introduced somewhere. As far as I was concerned, it felt like we were in a form of beta test.

We patiently waited at the back of the queue. Ahead of us were individuals on foot and horse as well the carts full of goods, but the caravans of the merchants were the majority. I could see they had hired guards, which probably meant monsters did lurk in these forests, we just hadn’t encountered them.

“BACK TO YOUR PLACE.” I heard a guard start arguing with someone at the front.

“Please, it was a misunderstanding.” The man who was being yelled at was pleading. No matter what he said though, his words fell on deaf ears. Arguing even seemed to get him into more trouble. “Is there nothing that can be done?”

“TO THE BACK WITH YOU THEN.” And then several guards surrounded him before physically forcing the man away. He was pushed down the queue until he ended up behind us, clearly angry and dejected. It seemed the guards weren’t to be messed with, and causing any disturbance was a definite no.

“Are you okay?” I scooted a bit back and tried to strike up a conversation with the man. His black hair was shoulder length and a bit greasy. The clothes he wore were low quality, definitely on the side of lower class. “They didn’t need to be so rough,” I tried to sound sympathetic.

“Tssk.” He clicked his tongue, “You’re right, they didn’t. I just wanted to get in to see my wife and daughter as soon as possible.”

“I’m Mike,” I said while reaching out a hand.

“Rhood.” He had a firm grip and callouses covered his hands. Paired with his shoddy appearance, he was definitely a part of the lower rung of society. He worked hard for a living, doing physical labor no doubt. I’d been there too, and this gave me a bit more confidence in my approach.

“This is gonna sound really crazy, but we aren’t from around here. Is there any chance you can give us some advice?” Sometimes, it was best to be straight up. I couldn’t even think of a story that might get us information without revealing we were strangers.

What was the country we were in called? The name of the city? I had nothing to even construct a lie out of, so I just went with the direct approach and hoped for the best.

Rhood looked at me appraisingly, and seemed to have a question on the tip of his tongue. He held it back though. “Must have come from afar,” he said instead. “Welcome to the Rigar Empire.” There was a tone of awe and reverence in his voice.

I couldn’t help but follow his gaze towards the flags over the gatehouse before my eyes came to rest on the guards, “Are they always this strict?”

“Usually no, but there was a battle just recently. Security always goes up right after. Neighboring empires try to sneak in spies; smugglers try to sneak in goods; the guards get shouted at and they take it out on us; you know the drill.”

He had mentioned spies so deliberately that I felt a bead of sweat run down the back of my neck. “We aren’t spies.” I assured him, whatever good that would do. “We’re just a wandering group of mercenaries.” I looked over my group. “We go where the battles are.”

Some of the suspicion in his expression eased up, “They are recruiting for their corps. Might be some glory to be had there,” he paused, “but also just as likely to be death.”

I let out a breath of relief, “Openly recruiting?” I asked.

“Right,” he said. “Even then, there ain’t no reward for reporting spies. I don’t care whether you are or not. Just listen to what they say when they talk to you, and don’t say nothing else.” We were slowly approaching our turn to be inspected. “You don’t know me,” Rhood added and then scooted back about ten feet, clearly distancing himself from us.

I moved a few feet back to the group, “I’ll do the talking.” It was best one person took the role of leader in the group. If everyone started yapping we might find ourselves in trouble. “We are mercenaries,” I told everyone.

The only issue now was our backstory, but I prayed the guards would be lenient enough in their prodding for us to slip through. By the time it was our turn, my back was drenched in a layer of sweat. The dungeon surely wants us to enter the city.

“State your business.” A single guard approached us. Through the gap in his helmet I could see a deep scar that ran across his face. His eyes were apathetic, and I knew instantly that no sob story would gain his favor.

“Hello, we’re a traveling mercenary group looking for work,” I said. “We’ve heard of the recent battles and were hoping to be hired to help your defenses.”

“All of you?” He asked suspiciously. I noticed his eyes wandered to the women in the group. I couldn’t be sure if special powers or spells even existed in this dungeon world.

“All of us,” I said firmly. Everyone behind me played their part and stood ramrod straight, and when I looked over the group, I couldn’t see the slightest hint of nervousness on their faces. We looked so natural that it was hard to find fault in our demeanor. A battle-hardened group of mercenaries through and through.

“Give me a moment.” He turned and walked back towards the gate.

“If things go south, run.” I said to everyone. There was no reading the expression on the guard’s face. They could come back to welcome us with open arms, or archers could perch upon the walls and litter us with arrows. The only assurance I had right now was my sixth sense, which typically would be screaming for me to run if things were going south.

The guard stopped at a towering wooden door and gathered two or three other guards with him. They talked without much haste, and the two he was addressing didn’t run off, which instantly took the weight off my shoulders. The three of them turned and walked in our direction.

“Come to the side.” The guard beckoned us out of line. “These two will record your details and if they are satisfied, they’ll escort you to the barracks.”

“Understood.” I didn’t ask any questions on account of Rhood’s advice. I looked at everyone and gave a nod before leading the group over to the two guards. Sixth sense was calm; things were okay.

An older guard walked around the group, looking carefully at our gear. His younger companion had a parchment in his hand. The older one spoke at last, “We’re going to need your name and your specialization; any other spells you may be able to use can be recorded as well. Your usefulness determines your salary, so keep that in mind before trying to hide your cards.” He didn’t wait for any questions and simply pointed at Lucas, “You go first.”

One by one we gave him the most basic information for ourselves, with the younger guard writing on his scroll with a quill that he dipped into an ink bottle on a table beside him. The older guard’s introduction cleared up one thing: there were spells in this dungeon world. Our classes wouldn’t out us, and could potentially gain us favor.

There didn’t seem to be any particular order in which we were called to account for our classes and skills, and it seemed like they were purposely making the process a slow one to shake our nerves. Would a group of spies give themselves away in this situation? It would be hard to act natural while the young guard took his time writing and the older one stared at you with unwavering eyes. When my turn came, I gave a basic description of myself: that I was a summoner and could spawn undead allies.

Everyone did the same, describing their battle specialty—either ranged, support, or melee—and something about how their class functioned. It seemed spell users were not common, and I caught the two guards exchanging glances more than once. They were warming up to us.

By the time the process was done, the manners of the guards were no longer severe, but had softened, “Alright,” said the older one, “you’ll be escorted to the barracks where you’ll be tested to prove what you’ve just said. After which, you’ll receive some basic briefing about the duties and responsibilities of being mercenaries in the cause of Rigar Empire. Normally, mercenaries are confined to barracks for two weeks, but you probably heard that people with special abilities like yours get privileges. After your briefing you’ll be allowed to spend time in the city. Just mind that you are back before moonrise and accounted for in the morning. That’s the rule for everyone.”

We moved through busy streets with two new guards as escort, which got quite the stares from locals. The area we were in was bustling with activity. Vendors lined the streets selling all sorts of wares: weapons, armors, jewelry and collectibles. Food like bread and vegetables, even cattle tied to posts, weren’t an uncommon sighting.

It was a marvelous feeling, being around people. Whether they were NPC or human didn’t matter in the moment. There was a budding comradery growing in all of us: this was what the world could look like in the coming years if we could manage to take back a bit of power for ourselves.

The wonders disappeared just as fast as they came. Only three streets over and in a little under five minutes of walking was a compound. It connected to the south eastern wall and had entrances to the guard towers in that area. Training dummies lined the walls with racks of weapons hanging nearby.

One-handed axes and swords, long swords and two-handed swords, battle axes and maces and morning stars, daggers and scimitars—there was no end to the assortment of weaponry waiting to be grasped and used to kill.

The barracks wasn’t busy by any means, with only a few soldiers wandering around the compound, seemingly randomly and without purpose. The reason for that came shortly after Jessica asked a question about it.

A grinning guard said, “After a battle we all got a few days of freedom. All who fought.” The local bars and brothels were probably packed to the brim right now.