The Siege of Mettleburg

Adventures in the Metaverse 5

Preface

These are the tales of Eternal Voyager. They come to me from EV himself and I like to think these stories are largely true, but I have taken the liberty of amending them to adjust a certain self-congratulatory bias in the original versions.

Far, far beyond the edge of civilisation, let alone a zone line, in the foothills of the Sighing Mountains, lies the fortified city of Mettleburg. In 1339 AR, an army with two divisions of orcs at its core sent by the General of Bow somehow managed to negotiate the high mountain passes to rush down upon Mettleburg. Fortunately for the town, two avatars happened to be visiting that region of the fantasy sim at the time: Tempus Denied and Alice Swift. They quickly took over the defence of the city and a few days after the dark army had dug in, much to their surprise, they were joined in their efforts by Willing Joke and Eternal Voyager.

1. Enter the Gnome

The top of the tallest tower of the citadel had been ravaged by the fiery attacks of a red dragon. As a consequence, the planning room of Alice Swift had been moved down a level. Even so, narrow arrow-slits in the curved walls of the room allowed an eagle-eyed view of the enemy army. A view that perhaps could be described as beautiful, if the dramatic, fluttering multi-coloured banners did not represent such a threat to the metropolis. Dressed in full plate armour, which Eternal very much admired, Tempus Denied walked around the conference table in order to pour his two guests a generous measure of red wine.

‘While it was pure good luck that Alice and I were visiting Mettleburg when the orcs attacked, it can’t be a co-incidence that you two have arrived here now.’ There was a question in his voice.

Eternal looked across the table at Willing.

‘No, it’s not.’ On entering the sim, Willing had adopted the form of his famous elven ranger avatar, silver hair tied back in a long braided ponytail. ‘Comhaile – the council of the elves - sent word to me as soon as I arrived in the sim that the orc army had been spotted.’

‘And you travelled fast.’ Alice had been standing by the wall, looking out of one of the thin windows; she turned her attention back to the room. With bright yellow hair cascading over plate mail that shone with a glow that only a paladin could achieve, Alice’s was a strikingly handsome avatar. Being in the same room as her meant Eternal felt rather dowdy and he regretted having not chosen something more glamorous than his gnome rogue avatar form for this adventure.

‘We came by pegasus,’ he said.

Tempus nodded. ‘I see. Is that why are you are a gnome? So that you could both fit on it? I thought your dark elf assassin was your most powerful avatar?’

‘Actually, no. I'm a gnome because I didn’t expect to be caught up in a war so soon,’ Eternal replied, ‘in fact I came to the sim in the humour to explore quiet, out-of-the-way places. Places of gentle melancholy and quiet laments.’

‘What’s the position?’ asked Willing abruptly. Try as he might, it was hard to EV to stay off the topic of his heartache. But his friend had became fed up of that subject and no longer allowed Eternal’s conversation to steer towards the maudlin.

‘Bad. At least until you two came. One orc division has taken up position on the east side of the river; the other on the west.’ Tempus tapped the map. ‘We are completely cut off. They’ve begun building siege towers and trebuchets, which will be ready within a day, to judge by the progress they are making. But that’s not the worst.’

Willing raised an eyebrow.

‘They’ve got a red dragon with them.’

Eternal was watching his friend as these words were spoken and noted from the ranger’s blanched expression that even so powerful an adventurer as Willing Joke was daunted by idea of confronting a dragon.

‘Each night since they arrived, three days ago, the dragon has attacked and has blasted our main defensive towers. They are pretty much all in ruins now. I don’t know what it’s next target will be, the gates perhaps?’

‘How do they keep it fuelled?’ Willing said musingly, seemingly as much to himself as to the others in the room.

It was Alice who answered. ‘The orcs have been rounding up herds of sheep and cattle. They’ve plenty of meat for it. And I’m sure they will have brought all the naphtha and sulphur that they need to keep it going.

‘Oh well. What have we got on our side?’ Willing resumed his efforts to appraise the state of the siege and EV admired his friend’s ability to focus. His own thoughts inevitably strayed to Angel and the two hundred years of memories she had lost.

‘A company of human archers; two companies of dwarven axe; an apprentice mage; Alice’s five paladin followers; and my twenty knights on horseback. Plus the town militia, who although numbering nearly a thousand won’t make a great difference.’

‘Supplies?’

‘The town is well stocked for food and for arrows, stones, and oil. But I don’t see the walls lasting long. In just a day or two we’ll have lost the town proper and all our fighting strength will be in the citadel. Alice has ordered that all the food in the town be brought into the citadel right away.’

Willing chuckled. ‘I wonder what the good burghers of the town think of that?’

‘Oh they’ve been nothing but helpful,’ Alice responded, ‘once I made it clear there would be room for them and their families in the citadel, they had no hesitation in shifting their stores.’

‘What’s your prognosis?’

‘With that dragon?’ she gave a sour grimace. ‘It will be over in two, maybe three days. We’ll all be dead and the town sacked. Without the dragon, I think we could hold the citadel until our supplies run out, maybe for as many as a hundred days.’

‘Did you ever fight a dragon?’ Willing sat up properly, seriously. The ranger was looking at EV, who spluttered wine into the golden goblet he’d been drinking from.

‘You’re kidding.’

‘Nope.’

‘Have you?’ Eternal wondered aloud.

‘Nope.’

For a moment Willing and EV looked at each other.

‘Backed up recently?’ EV asked his friend.

‘Nope.’ Willing gave a ‘what-can-you-do’ shrug.

Eternal looked up at the other two avatars. ‘How about you two?’

‘Three weeks ago,’ replied Alice.

‘Same.’ Tempus came over and placed a heavy arm across the paladin’s shoulders. ‘But those three weeks have been very memorable.’ The glance they exchanged was sweet and normally EV would have felt a warm compassion flow through him in solidarity with the couple. Now, however, he just felt heartache and was reminded of how much he missed Angel.

‘We could get you out,’ offered Willing. There was a test in the offer, EV could hear it in the ranger’s voice.

‘Firstly,’ said Alice firmly, ‘a Paladin could never abandon civilians to face the brutality of an orc army. And secondly, this is fun. We haven’t led an army before, even a small one like that of Mettleburg.’

‘I was a cavalry commander at Wizard’s Ford in 643 BR,’ said Tempus, blue eyes searching for a response, first from Willing, then from Eternal.

‘Oh,’ Willing stood up suddenly and offered his hand. ‘I remember you now. Your troops did very well.’

Tempus beamed, face more tooth than beard, and shook the offered hand.

‘Well then, we have to neutralise that dragon. Any thoughts EV?’

‘Acutus?’ Stormrider's blade transferred between most sims and Eternal had it with him now, a gnome-sized version scabbarded at his side. But even with the sharpest blade in the Metaverse, the idea of engaging in hand-to-hand combat with a dragon was pretty hopeless.

‘I don’t see a way of your getting close enough to use it. The dragon’s perceptions are too sensitive. Even invisible or ethereal, you’d be a gnome kebab before you got within a hundred feet.’ Evidently, Willing too felt the same.

‘Missiles. Your magic arrows?’ suggested EV.

‘Not powerful enough, at least not unless the dragon was pinned down for some reason and I had a good twenty shots.’ Willing padded around the room making no more noise than a cat despite walking in hard heeled boots across a bare stone floor. Tempus and Alice were watching him, both of them wearing hopeful expressions.

The ranger paused at one of the windows, looking out at the threatening army.

‘I think we have to talk to it.’

‘Talk to the dragon?’ repeated Alice, surprised.

‘Yeah. What’s it doing here?’

‘But it’s evil. It’s here because it wants to share in the carnage.’

‘Maybe.’ Willing turned to look at her, his delicate elven features calm and calculating. ‘But I’ve never seen a dragon operate with an army before. They are very independent creatures. If it wanted to destroy a human city, it could do so on its own. Someone has made an arrangement with this dragon and I want to know what the deal is, in order to break it.’

‘They are not renowned for their conversation.’ Eternal immediately regretted his observation: it was negative and unhelpful.

‘But I think someone has managed it. And we are going to have to do the same.’

2. What do Dragons Yearn For?

High above the river, an orc was pulling a hand-cart towards a rock-strewn hill top; in the cart was a gnome-shaped bundle of sacks and six bleating and terrified sheep. There was something wrong with the air above the particular hillock that the orc was striving towards. It shimmered, as though melting and running to liquid.

‘Hey, you!’ A burly sergeant detached himself from a column of orcs that was marching down the hillside towards the westernmost of the two orc stockades.

‘Yeah, what do you want you interfering fat face?’

‘I want to save your worthless pox-covered arse is what. See that wreck up there?’ Both orcs studied the burned remains of a wooden vehicle: blackened planks shattered and strewn around the rocks. ‘Dragon loves the taste of orc as much as sheep. I’d stop where you are if I were you and just let the sheep out. They won’t get far.’

‘Yeah, but you’re not me. If you were, you’d be minding your own business.’

Shaking his head, the sergeant returned to his troops. ‘When you die screaming in the flames, you can remember me. You pillock!’

Ignoring the insults of the departing sergeant, the orc pushed on, grunting with the effort. Once over the rise, the orc let go of his cart and slid down to the cover of a large boulder, where he proceeded to throw off his heavy clothing.

‘Where is it?’ Eternal had slipped out of the sack and had leapt from the cart to join Willing. He now peered around the side of the boulder. Sweat was pouring from his gnomish brow, a stench of sulphur befuddled his senses, and the air felt thick and hard to breathe.

‘I don’t … ahh.’

The ground shook and EV felt as though he were standing on a ship, not a hillside. Rising up from a dip in the ground was an enormous winged reptile whose burnished scales glittered red in the sunlight. The dragon’s head was the size of a small house and it rose, high, high, blocking the sun. Each breath of the dragon was a rumble of flame and it seemed to EV very likely that he would die simply from being in proximity to the creature, let alone from any effort by the dragon to eat him.

‘Coinnithcreatur more naspeartha!’ cried Willing, who had quickly removed the last of his disguise and had vaulted boldly to the top of the rock. The dragon blinked, though if it were surprised at being addressed in its own language, there was no way of knowing. All that Eternal could make out beyond the searing heat coming from the monster’s nostrils were two deep black sinister eyes. ‘If you answer a question of ours…’ EV had never before checked the full range of languages available to him in gnome form and he was relieved to find he could understood Willing’s address to the Red Dragon perfectly. ‘We will answer one of yours, to your complete satisfaction.’

This was their hope: that dragons loved games and challenges more than they loved the taste of freshly toasted elf and gnome.

Those enormous scalding eyes blinked once, then did so again. Eternal felt that his soul was being searched and that it was discovered to be less important than that of a slug.

‘What manner of sorcerer are you? That can tell a dragon something it does not know?’ The dragon’s voice was an explosion of molten rock, a hiss of fire meeting water. It made EV quail, but Willing stood his ground.

‘As you can certainly tell, I am no sorcerer and I make no claim to be one. Yet I have knowledge that is hidden to dragons. Test me with a question.’

The dragon’s response was a long exhalation that scorched the grass for fifty yards.  The monster did not seem pleased, but at least it had not attacked yet.

‘Born in liquid fire. Flying like a spark in the night sky. Proud roars of triumph overhead. Where am I?’

Willing leaned over to look down at Eternal. ‘That’s Mount Infernus isn’t it?’ he whispered, ‘where red dragons go to lay their eggs.’

‘Got to be. There are no other active volcanoes on this continent anyway.’

‘Mount Infernus!’ cried Willing, shielding his face from the burning glow of the monster.

‘Hmmmph,’ another deep sigh, catastrophic for the grass and heather in the vicinity. ‘Not yet are you food for a dragon. Nor shall you be, if you can answer this: what question should a dragon ask of an elf whose promise reaches higher than the sky and deeper than the sea.’

And it seemed to Eternal that the dragon was smiling now, in a sinister way.

‘This feels like a trick,’ he called up to Willing.

The elf kept his attention on the dragon, replying out of the side of his mouth. ‘Yeah. But we have to run with it. What question should it ask us?’

‘Let me think. What is the nature of the universe? Why do beings exist? How do I become fully sentient? How do I decide between different models of the universe? Why does love never last? What gives me a sense of my …’

‘EV, you dope! Those kinds of questions are far too abstract. And in any case, we don’t know the answers to them. No, it must mean questions arising from within the sim and to do with the sim. Like, where are the largest sulphur deposits to be found? Or, where is the largest ruby? Which dragon has the greatest treasure hoard?’

‘No, no. Yours are far too narrow.’

Both of them fell silent and after Willing turned to face the dragon again, EV did too. There was an attentiveness in the dragon’s eyes now, as if their brief exchange had been of interest to it.

Trying to ignore the acrid smell of sulphur and the suffocating pulsating waves of heat, EV did his best to imagine existence as a dragon. The joy of flight; of bathing in the delicious warmth of lava; of battle using flame, tooth and claw. What was it that a dragon might want most in the world? What did Eternal most want in the world?

‘I think I have it,’ EV said.

‘Go on.’

‘Where can it find a mate?’

There was a pause. Dragon, elf and gnome. And in that pause the dragon drew a mighty breath.

‘Not bad. All right.’ Willing raised his voice. ‘You should ask us where you can find a mate.’

‘And if I do, will you tell me?’

‘We will,’ said Willing and if there was any doubt in his friend’s mind about this, Eternal could not detect it, even though the answer was not at all obvious. Over a hundred years of play in the sim had taught EV a lot about the fantasy world called Epic, but what he didn’t know was a mountain in comparison to the grain of knowledge he had acquired. Did Willing really know where the dragon could find a mate? If not, this was a dangerous strategy.

'Well and well. Where can I find a mate?'

'I will answer that question,' shouted Willing. 'But first, you must answer ours.'

The Dragon snorted derisively and it seemed that even the mountains wished to flee at the sound.

‘Very well. Ask your question.’

‘How did it come to pass that you agreed to assist this orc army?’

The clouds drifted overhead on shimmering columns of air; a sheep gave a bleat. It did not seem that the dragon was going to answer, but then at last it spoke and its voice was thunder.

‘High on a lonely outcrop, a dragon watches a star. Low on the horizon a dark elf sends the star flying from his bow. Dare the small one stand against the dragon? As the dragon dives, the archer stands calm and unafraid, unscathed by breath of flame and buffet of claw. Who is this dark elf? He is cunning and he is strong magic. He speaks and the dragon listens.

‘The sun withdraws and still the dark elf speaks. A small creature, visible only in the dragon’s glow, his ideas are big. Larger than the world. The dark elf speaks of prison and freedom. Of a world within a world within a world. And he offers the dragon flight in all those worlds. The chance to bathe in a star.’

It was only after the dragon had lowered its head, that EV realised he’d been holding his breath. ‘Jumping jelly beans! Do you follow what he’s saying?’

‘What?’

‘The General of Bow offered him escape from the sim into the wider Metaverse.’

‘Yeah.’ Willing sat down. ‘That’s probably what he means.’

‘Well, don’t you think that’s pretty incredible?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Does it mean that one of us has taken on the role of General of Bow?’ That would be an attractive role, thought EV, provided you did not care for parties. Perfect for the recluse.

‘I guess. Or that someone has been educating the Generals of Bow and Sword.’

‘Interesting,’ EV stroked his long nose, ‘very interesting.’

3. Flight Upon a Dragon

With a roil of air that passed over Eternal like a wave of hot water, the dragon rose up again and immediately, too, Willing jumped to his feet.

‘I have spoken. Now I will eat or fly. Where is she?’

It struck EV that there was a fervency to the Dragon’s voice that had not been present earlier. And his heart went out to the monster that seemingly preferred to find a mate than escape the fantasy sim into the wider Metaverse.

‘The Isle of Skulls.’

The dragon stared at Willing Joke for a long time. The Isle of Skulls was a long way south, perhaps ten thousand kilometres.

‘I declare you a liar,’ said the Dragon. But it did not strike them down.

‘Take us with you then. And if she’s not there, you can eat us on arrival.’

‘You cannot come with me. My body will burn you up.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Willing turned to EV. ‘Have you got any fire resistance? I’ve a ring.’

‘Hmmm. I stole a magician’s scroll of Ward Flame one time. But even if I cast it properly, it would wear off long before we got there.’

‘Do it.’

‘What’s the plan?’

‘Ixybixyspixy you dope.’

Which Eternal took to mean: don’t be chatting away about our plans in front of the dragon. But EV did not like the implications of Willing’s order to begin a journey that Eternal could not finish and was feeling recalcitrant. The dragon, it seemed, was dealing fairly with them and they should reciprocate.

All the same.

It was strange, having a backpack with a very limited number of items rather than the infinite capacity of a Metaversal inventory. And even though EV had relatively few bits and pieces packed away, it always seemed to be an effort to find the one he wanted in a hurry. There was such a muddle inside. It didn’t help that crumbs and loose apples from an earlier picnic were everywhere.

‘Here! No, that’s a Freezing Blast spell. Polymorphality. Wings. Astral Travel. Aha. Ward Flame.’

Rogues of sufficient power and experience could decipher magic sigils and could purchase training in the art of casting spells. But they could only be successful in wizardry via written spells and providing the spell they were attempting to read been correctly written down by an expert magician. It was a while since EV had invoked magic in this way, but after he had brushed some of his last dinner off the scroll, the phonetics were clear enough. He began to chant them. As EV came to the last syllable it was clear the spell had worked. For the discomfort arising from the cauldron of heat that he had been standing in died away completely. Tears that had been constantly forming in his eyes could now be blinked back. The hand that had been shielding his face from the dragon’s radiance could be dropped.

‘Ready,’ Eternal told Willing.

The ranger cupped his hands around his mouth. ‘We are ready dragon.’

‘Then climb.’ The monster extended a front paw and as EV ran towards the scaly arm, he shuddered at the ferocity of the claws he brushed against. One blow from the dragon’s talons and Eternal would be torn to pieces.

Both EV and Willing were in avatar forms whose climbing skills were far greater than those of any human and it was no trouble at all to clamber over the rough skin of the dragon’s arm to its shoulder and back. Nor, while his spell lasted, was the heat a difficulty. The monster felt cool to the touch. If only the scroll also protected against the pungent odours of the creature, Eternal would have been perfectly happy.

Settled between two ridges of horny spine, with Willing close behind, Eternal held on tightly to the dragon’s back with both hands.

‘Ready again,’ shouted Willing.

Whether it was the extra weight, or whether all large dragons took flight in this way, the monster lumbered swiftly but erratically downhill, jolting EV and swaying him from side to side. Then it was aloft and all was calm.

‘WhooooooWhooooooooooo!’ Eternal couldn’t help but emit a cry of delight, even at the risk of sounding disrespectful. They were flying on a dragon. No one he knew had ever done such a thing. Perhaps it would be possible to emulate the experience for other avatars. Perhaps he could organise a party for his friends, where they travelled over bronze dappled seas to the regular beat of enormous wings upon the air. Circling, weaving, diving. A flight of dragons.

The monster’s muscles worked along its whole body as it surged through the air and in feeling the rhythm of the creature’s life, some of that energy transferred to EV. He felt more alive than he had for years. His heart soared as high as the dragon and was no longer burdened by melancholy. This, then, was the cure for lovesickness.

‘Wonderful isn’t it. Such an acute experience.’

Although there was little danger of their conversation carrying to the dragon’s ears through the storm of winds that it was generating, Willing had leaned close and chosen his words with care. And on hearing them, Eternal’s delight faded. So, Willing Joke had no idea where the dragon could find a mate. It was all a ruse to bring Acutus within reach of the dragon’s vital organs. Well EV couldn’t do it. There was no way that he could bring harm to this proud being. That the dragon wished for a mate was romantic. That it was attracted to the idea of escaping the world it knew for the freedom of the Metaverse even more so.

Eternal simply shook his head, knowing that Willing would understand the meaning of the gesture. Immediately pain shot across his scalp: Willing was twisting his ears.

‘Ow! Let go!’

‘Don’t go all sentimental on me now.’

‘I’m not doing it.’

‘If we die, as we will. No one will know that the Generals are up to something strange.’

This was a consideration worth thinking about. There was adventure here and mystery. If he was restored to his last backup, made before entering the sim, Eternal wouldn’t have the slightest idea of what had befallen him since. Worst of all, he’d lose the idea for a dragon flight party. Unfortunately, his recording bug, as with all advanced technology, did not work here. Magic did, though.

‘Don’t you have a way of leaving a message? A magical mirror or something that can repeat your words.’

‘Not on this ranger, no. You must be thinking of my wizard.’

‘What about your wolf?’

‘EV. We are flying hundreds of feet above the ground, faster than a wolf can run. How in the Metaverse do you think I can summon a wolf to us? And even if I could summon him and leave some sort of message with him, I’d have to turn him lose or he’d reset on my death too.’

‘Well think of something.’

‘I have thought of something. Something sharp that will work nicely and, by the way, will ding these avatars two or three times.’

In the fantasy sim of Epic, when your avatar gained sufficient reward from quests or achievements such as victory in battle, a pleasant chime – a ‘ding’ – rang out and new levels of skills became available to you. Plus, you became a lot harder to kill, more able to withstand wounds. But advancing his gnome rogue in this way was the least of EV’s concerns. He looked over his shoulder, so that Willing would see the determination and sincerity in his face.

‘I like this dragon. And I’m not killing it, no matter what. So you better come up with some other plan.’

‘Sod you, you little pumpkin!’ In his anger, Willing grabbed Eternal by the nose and pounded him over the head until EV felt dizzy and began to worry about losing his grip on the dragon’s spine. ‘What an achievement: to best a dragon in a battle of wits. And to save the city of Mettleburg! Bards would have been singing of this for decades. The whole Metaverse would talk about nothing else for weeks. But you have to go spoil it. I had a feeling you were likely to fall for his dragon. You have a broken heart and you are anthropomorphising by projecting your feelings onto this creature. But this is a monster. It has no tender sentiments. Only a drive to procreate.’

‘You’re the monster.’

‘You maggot.’

There was nothing more to be said and they flew on and on. Over the sea now. But for EV a lot of the pleasure of the experience had gone; it was hard to relish the sights and feelings of riding a dragon when you had Willing Joke behind you in a deep sulk.

‘I don’t suppose there actually is a female red dragon on the Isle of Skulls?’ EV turned, so that he could keep his voice as low as possible. The dragon was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm; the power of Ward Flame was fading.

By way of an answer, Willing smacked him in the side of the head, which EV interpreted as a ‘no’.

Another thought struck Eternal at almost the same time as the blow from the ranger’s palm, which was that given time, he could probably hack the sim to find out the location of female red dragons. Not that this was a realistic solution to their crisis. In only a matter of minutes his gnome avatar would start to take damage from the heat of the dragon’s body, while it would take days, if not weeks, to make enough sense of the scripts underlying the sim to identify the data he wanted. Plus there was the ethical question. Almost every person in the Metaverse disapproved of hacking game sims. Willing Joke in particular was someone who prided himself on his abilities as a general and his famous victories in every kind of war sim; if he was ever associated with hacking, doubt would be cast on all of his achievements. EV had a slightly less high ground approach to the issue, and after his duel with Hammer, he had acquired the necessary skills. But it was no use, he’d have to try something else. What, exactly, he didn’t know.

‘Hey dragon. I have to get off!’

There was no change to the powerful rhythm of the dragon’s efforts, even though EV had shouted as loudly as he could. Rummaging in his backback, EV found an apple. It might do. With the unerring apple-throwing accuracy of an experienced gnomish rogue, Eternal hit the dragon’s left eye. Immediately, the monster turned its head to glare at EV, blasts of scorching heat from its nostrils wafting past him.

Pointing downwards, EV tried again. ‘I have to get off!’

Without any kind of acknowledgement, the dragon resumed its forward stare and for a few beats of its mighty wings there was no change to their progress. Heart sinking at the thought of dying – it would be a blow to lose his gnome avatar, let alone this current adventure, let alone his most original idea for a party in centuries – Eternal was greatly relieved when the dragon suddenly tipped its body in order to bank and descend. Closer to the sea, it became apparent that the aquamarine waters were relatively shallow, with hundreds of small dark islands dotting the blue expanse. Some of them were little more than columns of rock and it was to one of these that the dragon finally turned, broiling and eating a dozen sea birds from the hundreds that flew up from the rocks as they arrived.

‘Thanks.’ EV bounded down to the stone platform as soon as he could, sweat pouring from his body and smoke from his leggings. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t go any further.’

‘Elf, whose lies are bigger than mountain, and gnome, whose tears are lonely, cannot escape being eaten.’

‘Dragon, when the dark elf archer offered you escape into the Metaverse, did he offer proof that he could do what he claimed?’

The dragon did not answer, nor did it turn its predatory gaze from EV. ‘Well, it’s true,’ Eternal continued. ‘There is a Metaverse beyond this sim and it is possible to transfer you – and a mate – to that Metaverse, where you can bathe in the heat of stars and lay your eggs. I am from that Metaverse and I can perform the necessary … magic .. to make this happen. But not many other people can. I call the dark elf archer a liar if he says he can and I wish to challenge him and prove to you the truth of my words.’

Both the dragon and its rider stared at EV without responding. Far below, the sea rolled softly.

‘To witness such a challenge,’ began the dragon, in what was probably a whisper among dragons, but was a swirl of boiling steam to EV, ‘I would carry the gnome to the dark elf. But only if the gnome can show the dragon the truth of this Metaverse.’

‘Watch that rock.’

It was a kind of hacking, but EV had no intention of changing the sim, just of providing a demonstration. Having called up the editing menu and his scripting tools, EV used a pointer to move the rock in question, lifting it and placing it in front of the dragon. Then, he changed the size of the rock, squeezing it down to a pebble, stretching it out to a boulder. Next, he changed its qualities, in turn making the stone transparent, furry, as hard as diamond, as soft as jelly. ‘What would you like me to do next?’

‘Sulphur.’

‘No bother.’ A few alterations and the stone was a large block of yellow crystal. At once the dragon snapped it’s jaws and the stone was gone, a few trails of powder escaping the mouth of the dragon as it chewed upon the sulphur. ‘Oh,’ said EV, ‘I was supposed to leave that as I found it.’

‘EV!’ shouted Willing Joke angrily, ‘stop fooling around.’

‘Sorry, Willing. Dragon, are you convinced? Will you take me to challenge the dark elf archer.’

It took the dragon a while longer to grind the crystals down and swallow them. When it had done so, it looked up again at EV.

‘I will. After I eat elf who lies.’ With these words the dragon turned its head and mouth wide, and struck down for Willing. Fortunately, the ranger was nimble enough to dive to the ground and roll beneath the dragon’s own body to avoid the attack.

‘Wait, dragon, we need his magic ring or I cannot come with you. Don’t kill him or it will disappear when he does.’

‘Come then. Elf who lies like the wind will not leave this rock. A meal in waiting for the dragon.’

‘Toss me your ring, Willing.’

‘Are you just going to leave me here?’

If Willing hadn’t been so rough with the gnome earlier, EV might have felt sorry for him. The ranger was geared for leading forest armies against hordes of evil monsters, not for living in isolation on a stack in the middle of the ocean. It was unlikely that any of the magic items possessed by Willing’s avatar would provide him with a means of escape from here. But, rationalised EV, they had assisted the defenders of Mettleburg by removing the dragon; they had discovered something interesting about the ideas of the General of Bow; and seeing as one of them had to hang about on this rock for a while, it may as well be Willing.

‘Yes.’

The ranger did not answer and the cawing sounds of frightened seabirds filled the air. At last, having come to his decision, Willing stood up and moved away from the dragon before removing his magic ring. The dragon’s eyes followed the flight of the ring as Willing threw it – carefully, underarm – to EV. As soon as it was on his gnomish finger, the pulsing waves of heat from the dragon abated and Eternal could run up the outstretched arm to his former place on the monster’s back.

As the dragon plunged awkwardly from the stack, EV gave a shout towards the disconsolate figure they were leaving behind.

‘Later, dude.’

It was hard to hear his friends response over the beats of the dragon’s wings, but the bitter tone of voice suggested that Willing was not too impressed with this turn of events.

4. The Generals of Sword and Bow

Once more EV’s spirits soared as the dragon took flight in earnest. Stroke after stroke of its huge wings took them higher, until the world below was a blue mist. Although it was unlikely that the dragon could feel the gesture, EV patted the creature’s back affectionately.

Beat and beat. Hour and hour. Until the time came when EV felt his stomach lurch. They were descending.

As they dropped through a layer of cloud, Eternal tried to get his bearings. Since they had been flying north west, they should be somewhere over the continent of Askir. Certainly the dark green areas below that resolved themselves as vast forests were right for Askir, as was the wide river that they were now following: presumably the Avin.

It was a surprise to EV that the Generals of Bow and Sword were to be found this far across Askir. He had expected that the dragon would take him to some remote mountain stronghold, a base for their power. Here, they were only a few hundred kilometres from the huge elven metropolis of Cathrack, at the mouth of the Avin. The further - and lower - they flew, the more certain Eternal became that Cathrack was indeed their destination. Curious. Even more curious were the columns of smoke ahead.

All of a sudden they were flying through a battle, or more precisely the aftermath of a battle. Radial blasts marked the ground like black chequers pieces on a game board. Village houses were burning, sending up the grey clouds. On the shore of the river a ship was also in flames, lying stricken on its side. Bodies lay everywhere: elven warriors and orc fighters. And it was the latter who had won; for swarming over the slain, despoiling them as efficiently as ants who had just discovered a mound of decaying meat, were the victors. Beneath him was a seething carpet of orcs and goblins.

The dragon banked to the left, leaving the battlefield behind them, weaving sinuous patterns in the sky, searching. In the pools of shadow created by the descending evening sun it found what it was looking for, the tents and fires of a vast army. As befitted an army deep in enemy territory, this one had surrounded itself with a wide circular ditch and palisade. They had even, noted EV, gone to the trouble of building wooden towers, which were occupied by crossbow-wielding orcs.

On approaching this camp, the shadow seemed to throw a piece of darkness into the air. That darkness sharpened in focus and became a winged creature, racing towards them. It was another dragon, a jet black one, with extraordinary emerald eyes.

‘Brother,’ the dragon hissed as it swept up before them, causing the red dragon to rear back, wings beating fast to hold position, ‘thou art done at Mettleburg?’

‘I bring a challenge to the dark elf who speaks to dragons.’

‘A challenge? Or a tasty morsel?’ The black dragon gave EV a look of pure wickedness, then turned, leading the way towards a large plaza in the centre of the camp.

Until now, the closest EV had come to the Generals of Sword and Bow in person had been at Lough Tarron in 1089 BV, when he had caught sight of their banners, in retreat after Willing Joke’s famous campaign of that year. Here were their tents, side by side. In front of both were stationed heavily armoured guards. Beneath a black banner displaying a scarlet star made from swords were a dozen Storm Giants; beneath a black banner displaying a scarlet star made from arrows were a dozen dark elf anti-Paladins. Evening shadows protected these knights from the harmful effects that the sun would otherwise bring to them and their equipment.

‘This dragon would speak with your master.’

Almost simultaneously, the silk cloths at the entrance to the two tents were drawn aside and there, just a few metres away, were the General of Sword and the General of Bow. It was fascinating to see them so close and while EV spared a moment for the gleaming indigo plate mail armour of the General of Sword, it was the dark elf in leathers who really interested him. A close examination of one of the most infamous villains in the Metaverse was a wonderful opportunity for EV to obtain first class fashion tips for his own dark elf assassin.

Frustratingly, it was hard to see the detail from this distance, and detail was everything in these matters. But then the General of Bow took a few steps forward - guards moving in step to flank him - and EV realised with a wave of admiration that his enemy had real taste. Straps of engraved - and presumably magic - dark leather bound a number of weapons and pieces of armour to a shirt that was nearly black, but which in fact had a shimmering hint of scarlet about it: like the last vestige of light when the sun set. What EV particularly admired was how the General had not gone overboard on the armour, or on the length of his collar and cuffs. The General wore vambraces, of course, to assist with the firing of the wonderful bow strapped to his back; a couple of bandoliers; one finely wrought shoulder pad (the lack of symmetry was interesting); and straps that suggested a large back piece was in place. All in all, it was clear this dark elf relied upon agility and not armour for his defence.

‘What news from Mettleburg?’ The General of Bow shook out his long ivory hair, pulled it back and pinned it clear of his sombre gaze with a violet headband.

‘Dark elf who speaks with dragons. Turn your words to matters of importance.’

‘Such as?’

‘The gnome I carry has a challenge for you. A challenge that all dragons should heed.’ This last phrase spoken with a turn of the head towards the Black Dragon.

‘Little gnome,' there was a sneer in the General's voice, 'come forward.’

‘Certainly.’ EV vaulted down. ‘And may I say, I’ve never seen an evil genius in a more appropriate attire. If you don’t mind, I’m going to organise a Heroes and Villains party just so that I can come as you.’

‘What is this challenge, that brings you here on a dragon?’ The dark elf spoke softly.

‘Oh, it’s just that you promised this dragon—and presumably any others that you’ve been talking to—life outside of the sim. But I don’t think you can deliver on that promise. You see, I’m from outside the sim, we call our realm the Metaverse, and I can edit this world pretty much as I please. I don’t believe that you can, and I challenge you to do it. Do something simple. Like colour the moon green. And if you cannot, than your promises to these dragons are just lies.’

‘I accept your challenge. And you will see, dragon, your gnomish friend has wasted your time and energy. It is true that I cannot make the alterations I spoke of myself. But I control those that do.’ The dark elf gestured to a row of wooden carts, holding small barred cages. ‘Bring forward the prisoner.’

Several orcs hurried to fulfil their master’s command, while elsewhere on the plaza, no one moved. All the soldiers and monsters were seemingly as interested in what was about to happen as was EV himself. The General’s response had taken Eternal by surprise. For some strange reason, the dark elf genuinely seemed to believe that he could edit the sim.

When the cage door was opened, a human staggered out, uncramping himself with some difficulty.

‘Stormrider?’

The man blinked, twice. ‘EV! What are you doing here?’

‘Getting some fashion tips for my assassin avatar. What about you?’

‘Kill me quick. No wait. Let me try to think.’

‘Prisoner.’ The General of Bow raised his voice and Stormrider visibly flinched. ‘Surrender your mind to me.’ Then the dark elf lifted a small vial to his lips, drank, before turning to address the dragon. ‘With this potion of Mind Control, I know and understand everything. I shall turn Sylvania green.’

Shivering from head to toe, with a glazed expression on his face, the dark elf pointed to a ridge of hills, above which one of the sim’s two moons had made an appearance. Now on his knees, eyes rolled horribly back in his head, Stormrider too lifted an arm.

‘Stormy, it’s quite important that you resist whatever the General is trying to do.’

His friend groaned with real suffering.

Quickly, EV tried to open the editing tools for the moon, but he was too late. Much to his surprise, the General of Bow had got there first, via the magic of the potion and Stormrider's scripting knowledge. In a matter of moments, the moon would turn green. Such a change would be quite a trivial alteration to its scripts.

Fortunately, EV had another apple in his bag. It caught the General of Bow plumb on the nose and staggered him; the dark elf’s arm fell. With relief, EV saw Stormrider drop to the ground too.

Now that he had the editing controls for the moon, EV drew a rather neat caricature of his own large-nosed face upon it. Although it meant he had to stay still and concentrate, he kept the editing box open, just in case the General attempted to direct Stormrider’s scripting ability again.

‘There, do I win the challenge?’ EV asked the red dragon, without turning his head.

‘I’ve proven I have the power to deliver my promise,’ cried the dark elf in reply.

Everyone around the plaza waited for what seemed a very long time, but was probably only a dozen heartbeats. The red dragon was staring at the moon.

‘Gnome has won his challenge. Small and ugly though he is, he will take Dragons to the stars.’

‘Kill them both.’ The order was given in a matter of fact tone, but the impact of it was as though a hurricane had descended on the plaza.

First to react was the red dragon, with a scorching blast of fire that it directed across the two generals and all their bodyguards. Rather astonishingly, thought EV as he cancelled his scripting tools and scampered off towards the cover of some crates, none of those engulfed by the flames was dead. The armour of the storm giants was now covered in soot and their long plaids had been burned to a crisp, but they were all still on their feet and running at the dragon with raised axes. You couldn’t really tell how badly burned was a dark elf, since their skin colour was so deep a blue it was nearly black in the first case. But the anti-Paladins were rushing forward with drawn swords. Neither of the two generals looked at all perturbed. In fact, the General of Bow was looking directly at EV and was lining up a shot.

If you were to list the creatures in the sim whom it was hard to hit with an arrow, a very experienced gnome rogue would be somewhere near the top, such were his or her reflexes. But if you were to list the greatest archers of Epic, you would have to put his current opponent at the top and EV had no desire to find out whether he could dodge the shots of the General of Bow. Flinging himself forward in a tumble, he dove between two crates, just as an arrow hit the packed earth behind him with a powerful explosion. Fortunately, Willing’s magic ring of fire resistance mitigated most of the damage, but as he flew through the air, accompanied by flames and shattered fragments of crate, the back of his legs, his buttocks, and his shoulders felt sore.

Landing as balanced as a cat, EV stepped into the deep shadow of a tent and stood perfectly still, letting chaos mask him. All rogues could make themselves invisible in shadows to a certain extent: even a teenage pickpurse on his or her first trip to a fair knew how to make use of the dark. An expert gnome rogue of EV’s experience could travel the world invisible to nearly everyone, so long as there were shadows to utilise. Thus Eternal felt secure enough, as he watched what must have been one of the most extraordinary fights to have ever taken place in the sim.

5. Once he Flew

The red dragon was in the air, its body moving with clumsy jerks to each beat of its great wings, but its claws and jaws striking with deadly precision. Dismembered giants and dark elves lay around the plaza, while goblins and orcs streamed away from the fight. But for all the incredible violence that the dragon was unleashing upon its enemies, it was outnumbered. Sword, arrow and axe clashed upon its scales, sometimes with the force needed to find a gap and wound flesh. The deepest cuts were landing on the dragon as a result of General of Sword, who was wielding a katana two-handedly, the blade held high, darting out as the opportunity arose.

For a second time, the dragon roared out a furious blast of fire at all those around him and this time the scorching heat finished off the giants and the paladins, their crisp immolated bodies falling to the ground. But the General of Sword clearly had magic resistance to the fire, as he fought on without any indication he had been affected by the flames. Nor were the slashes and bites from the dragon leaving a mark upon him, for with deft parries, the General’s defences held.

‘There you are!’

So captivating had been the sight of the duel between the red dragon and the General of Sword, that EV had not been paying close enough attention to his immediate surroundings. But before he could even analyse who it was who had spoken, his body was in motion, rolling and tumbling and racing away. A blade passed over his head. Light footsteps followed. The General of Bow, of course. Like a monkey in a forest of vines, EV pulled himself around the ropes that fastened the camps tents, swerving and sprinting through the entire camp. And despite the sharp cornering and wild scrambles of his efforts, he could not shake the dark elf, who matched him move for move. Gradually, the gnome's stamina began to fade and when a last attempt to lose his pursuer in the shadows of a guard tower failed, EV turned and drew Acutus.

‘I’m not going to kill you.’ The General of Bow did not sound as though he had just been hurling himself around an obstacle course at top speed. His voice was calm and even. ‘I’m going to capture you. And when I’ve mastered all that you know, I’m going to make you transfer us to the Metaverse.’

‘I think you’ll be very popular there. You have such wonderful style.’

‘Your frivolous parties will cease. You will help us rule a dominion the like of which has never been known or you will die. In comparison to the days of the General of Sword and Bow, those of Count Despard will seem like a brief summer’s day.’

‘Oh. No parties? Count Despard? The cruel overlord of the sixth century BV? Oh dear. I don’t think that will go down so well.’

The General of Bow struck out with his sword, but it was a feint and the real follow up would have cut through EV’s leg at the shin, except that he managed to interpose Acutus. As a result, the dark elf’s blade sheared into two pieces, the tip falling to the floor.

‘My Stormblade!’ The General of Bow looked up at EV and for the first time displayed some real emotion. His eyes were moist and his face a pale blue with shock. ‘How?’

EV took a step forward and pointed the tip of Acutus at the dark elf’s chest. Dismayed, the General took a step back. So EV advanced again. Whirling around, the dark elf fled and with an involuntary laugh of triumph Eternal gave chase. This time it was a straight foot race, with no jumping, climbing, or swinging, and the dark elf had a clear advantage. The giddiness that had come with seeing his enemy flee before him left the instant EV realised that the dark elf would soon be in a position where he could wield his infamous bow: and their duel could turn dangerous again.

But then, as the two of them sprinted across the plaza, EV saw with the heightened perspective of his adrenaline-boosted senses, the most perfect backstab opportunity he was ever likely to come across.

Worn down by its many wounds and leaking dark blood from beneath its scales, the dragon had landed on the ground and was panting with deep ragged breaths, breaths which no longer steamed and boiled. The General of Sword was moving in for the kill, facing away from EV. The entire plaza was under the gloomy evening shadow of the mountains. Without hesitation, EV changed course and on lightly balanced tiptoe, making no sound at all, he raced towards the General of Sword and leaped into the air with all his remaining energy.

‘Brother!’ The General of Bow had turned and seen the danger. But he was too late.

Although the General of Sword ducked instinctively, EV was on him, Acutus piercing the back of his massive breastplate just above the heart and cutting downwards with the momentum of EV’s fall. The General fell to the ground with a hollow clang and remained there, motionless.

DING! DING! DING! DING! DING!

EV’s gnome avatar was transformed. Suddenly, he could see more accurately, feel the shadows around him as though they were alive, and in every physical way, feel more agile, stronger, powerful. He could draw the shadows to him and wrap himself in them like a cloak. Eternal felt as though if he wanted, he could steal the much coveted Ruby of Command from the neck of King Uwen, even while the royal court was in session. He could recover the lost princess of Al-Karak from her prison in the Ethereal Tower of Nightmares. He could prize the sacred rubies of the Q'itzl from the statue of their lizard god, even while they were assembled and worshiping it. He felt triumphant, glowing, and fulfilled.

It did not matter that the General of Bow was firing arrows at him: secure in his shadows, EV could weave through space that no longer was immoveable cold air but was vibrant, plastic, and fluid. Arrows swerved around him and he closed the distance to the dark elf at incredible speed. The General of Bow had hardly time to turn before EV was at his heels and this time there was no chase. Acutus struck once more and suddenly strands of ivory hair were floating in the breeze like dandelion seed. The General of Bow’s head was on the ground.

DING! DING! DING! DING!

In the entire sim, there was no lock that could keep him out; no climb too treacherous for him to manage; no environment in which he could not move silently; and no written spell that he could fail to cast. Eternal Voyager, in his gnome avatar form, had become the Grandmaster of Rogues. He was the greatest of all thieves, of any race or place. He would have followers in every town large enough to host a thieves guild, and for many a decade the bards would sing of the gnome who rode dragons and who killed the General of Sword and the General of Bow.

A heavy sigh and an even heavier thump brought EV’s giddy assimilation of his new powers to an end. Across the plaza, the red dragon had collapsed and the black dragon, who had been observing the battle with an ambiguous neutrality, raised its head and gave a mournful cry that shook the walls of the stockade.

EV ran over to the wounded creature and touched its long face; the scales were already growing cold.

‘Dragon.’

It looked at him, a world away, through a bloodshot, half-closed eye.

‘Little gnome with big heart. What foolishness for a dragon to carry you, you who hold such a blade.’

‘It is only a little blade and it would have been worthless if you hadn’t have fought so magnificently.’

‘I fought. And now I die.’

‘I’ll find you Dragon. I’ll find your scripts and I’ll find you a mate. I promise. No matter how long it takes. When you next wake, it will be in the warmth of a star.’

The dragon did not answer and EV found himself blinking back the tears as the last embers of life in the creature went out.

The black dragon, too, had tears in its emerald eyes.

‘Once he flew, brightest of all stars. Once he fought, bravest of all warriors. Now meat for ravens. Let dragons learn: heed only our own kind.’

With that, and with a venomous look at EV that made the gnome shiver, the black dragon threw itself into the night sky.

6. Loot the Dead

When the buffeting winds of the dragon’s departure had eased, Eternal took stock of his situation. At the outskirts of the camp were orcs and goblins, beginning to creep a little closer to the plaza now the fighting was over. Perhaps they would disperse, once they realised their leaders were dead. Or perhaps not. It was time to rescue Stormrider and leave, but first, no rogue, let alone the Grandmaster of Rogues, could fail to loot the dead.

With his ability to sense magical items enhanced, EV’s nimble fingers picked over the bodies of the two fallen dark elves. From the General of Bow he took a quiver of magic arrows, a ring, a black leather belt with runes written around it and a bottle with the green potion in it. If it wasn’t so bulky, he would have taken the magnificent bow for Willing’s ranger. From the General of Sword, he took another magic ring, a bone finger amulet, a pouch with incense sticks in it and a small dagger, whose blade was made of some strange translucent material. Again, all the armour and the great katana of the fallen general were magic, but he wouldn’t be able to walk the shadows if he were encumbered by any of them.

It was hard leaving the booty, perhaps the most powerful magical armour in the sim, but there was no choice. Hurrying down to the wooden cage into which Stormrider had been bundled during the fight, EV waved Acutus in front of him and the three orcs standing near the bars ran off without even a curse.

‘Stormy.’

‘EV, what’s going on?’

Without even having to think about it, his fingers had undone the heavy padlock that chained the door closed and Eternal was helping Stormrider out.

‘Both generals are dead, but so too is my friend the dragon. So we have to get away on foot.’

‘Both dead? But even a dragon…’

‘Remember making this?’ EV half drew Acutus from it’s specially designed scabbard.

For a moment a light came back to Stormrider’s beaten face. ‘The best work I ever did.’

As the gnome helped the human limp across the plaza, EV cast one more rueful glance at the magic bow, so powerful looking with its subtle carvings: mostly relief-carved impressions of flying creatures. Willing Joke would be furious at having been left on a rock in the middle of the ocean and he would be even more angry that he’d missed out on the final battle of the General of Sword and the General of Bow. But if EV had also to tell him that the most famed bow in the sim had just been left in the dirt, well, Willing probably wouldn’t speak to him for a century.

‘I say, Stormy, I don’t suppose you could manage to carry that bow.’

‘It looks heavy.’

‘I know, it’s just, Willing Joke won’t forgive us if we leave it there.’

‘Oh, well lets give it a try.’

Bow leaning upon human, human leaning upon gnome, they staggered off and if the occasional orc or goblin fired a bolt at them – which EV easily caused to swerve wide – no enemy creature dared come close.

Once well clear of the camp they took a break. As he looked up at the night sky, EV noticed that both moons were up and that—with a quick glance at Stormrider to check he hadn’t realised—Sylvania still had a ridiculous gnome face drawn upon it. Quickly restoring the moon to its natural glow, EV then enjoyed the very pleasurable experience of telling his friend all about the recent battle.

‘Well done EV, well done,’ Stormrider sighed. ‘Did you not realise I’d gone missing? I was their prisoner for over ten years.’

‘Ten years is not a lot for you Stormy, to be fair, when you go in to your reclusive mode.’

‘True.’

After a short silence, Stormrider got up and lifted one end of the bow. ‘I think we’ll go quicker holding it like this. I can manage to walk now.’

‘Sure.’ EV took up the other end of the bow and the two of them resumed their slow journey northwards. After a while, EV said, ‘we ought to respawn the General of Bow and General of Sword sometime, I think they’ve evolved into real people.’

‘Oh, I think so to.’ Stormrider nodded heartily. ‘When they weren’t torturing me, they were capable of fascinating conversation.’ He paused. ‘But I think we might remove the all spells, magic items, and potions to do with mind reading and mind control from Epic. Just to be safe.’

‘Very wise. And perhaps we’ll leave it a century or two, to see what new villainy next appears in the sim.’

‘Yes, indeed.’

Although the city was not far off, it was nearly dawn by the time they arrived at Cathrack.

‘Hail the guards.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I am Grandmaster Eternal Voyager and I am here to lead the elves of Cathrack to victory against the orcs and goblins who sought to besiege you.’

7. Return to Mettleburg

A cloud lay over the city of Mettleburg and it was not a natural one, for dawn in the Metatlas Mountains had come to a sky that was entirely clear. As his army crested the final pass, Eternal was alarmed to see the huge grey pall, hanging over the city like funereal garb.

‘Are we too late?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Stormrider replied, ‘the orc camps are still there at least.’

With his avatar fed and properly clothed in the laurel green garb of a High Priest of Thesmofia, Goddess of the land, Stormrider had regained his usual formidable presence. Compared to a tall, elderly human on a thoroughbred steed, a gnome on a donkey looked distinctly comical. But it was to Eternal that the officers of the army all came and respectfully sought orders, even when he would rather they left him alone.

Two divisions of wood elf archers and one of human warriors had managed the difficult mountain crossing, in part guided by the debris left from the passage of the orc army. Any day now and a late autumn snowfall would close the higher passes, but the allies had made it through.

They had been joined en route by a surly Willing Joke. It had taken a pegasus sent by Comhaile nearly two weeks to find the elven ranger, so many were the rocky islands in the sea. And Willing’s temper had not improved upon learning of the death of his arch enemies. Far from it. From Willing's point of view, EV had broken the rules as soon as he had taken out his scripting tools. It was immoral and unsporting to have turned the dragon against the dark elves by resorting to such means. And, unfortunately, it had not escaped Willing’s notice that for an hour or so, someone had sketched a gnome’s face on Sylvania. Moreover, when he realised just how many levels EV had advanced beyond him, Willing went into a deep and prolonged sulk.

The powerful ranger was returning now, having gone ahead during the night with a swift party of scouts.

‘Well?’ asked EV, as the horses drew up.

‘Although the town is in ruins, the citadel still holds and the banner of Alice Swift still flies.’

‘What orders Grandmaster?’ asked one of the captains of the wood elves. The sim’s NPCs were not very good at taking subtle hints. Despite EV’s deploying a variety of eyebrow-raised expressions and signaling with his head, the captain did not lift his expectant gaze from Eternal’s.

‘Willing Joke is our general,’ EV said at last, when the silence had gone on too long. ‘Take your orders from him.’

‘Yes sir!’ snapped the captain, with a salute. Only then did he turn to the ranger on his white mare. ‘What orders sir?’

Planning for a difficult battle was the kind of challenge Willing Joke relished and EV was pleased to see the frown on his friend’s face fading as Willing considered the tactical situation.

‘We’ll take the nearest orc camp and secure it, then reform for an attack on the city. Take your division and yours—he pointed to the captain of the human warriors—at double speed and storm the camp. Yours—he pointed to the other elven captain—is the reserve and marches at regular speed.’

‘Where should I be?’ asked Stormrider politely.

‘With the reserves.’

‘And how about I go into the town and try to take out some of their senior officers? I’m not half as useful on a battlefield as sneaking about in the shadows of a city.’

Willing gave EV an appraising look. ‘All right. Everyone clear?’

After obtaining nods from the captains, Willing spurred his horse towards the first division of wood elves.

‘Come on then. Today is the day we relieve Mettleburg!’

After sending his donkey to the baggage train—it would be too conspicuous to ride it any further—EV set off on a rocky undulating descent towards the city. Crossing the rugged terrain was slow going. Still, he had a splendid view of the attack of the allied army and the consternation of the orcs as they realised a terrible and unexpected enemy was upon them.

In good order, the elves halted about two hundred yards from the stockade that was the orc camp. Arrows filled the sky like a sudden downpour and for every crossbow bolt fired by an orc, twenty slender elven shafts flew in the opposite direction. To the fore among the archers was Willing Joke, the large black bow that EV had presented him with being wielded for all to see. Running through the archers towards the wooden walls were the human warriors. These were relatively lightly armoured troops, wearing chainmail rather than platemail. The journey through the mountains and the necessity of an urgent pace ruled out any heavier equipment. But for now chainmail was perfectly adequate. Most of the orcs of the camp were away in the city and those remaining inside the stockade were finding it far too dangerous to fire down into the mass of men and women below them because to do so was to expose themselves to the archery of the elven troop.

As he progressed down the hillside, EV was pleased to hear faint cries of joy from the allied troops. A section of the stockade had collapsed under the blows of the attackers. Now the human warriors could funnel through and come face to face with the orc defenders. The stockade would soon be in the hands of the allies and indeed, orcs were streaming away from it, to reach the relative safety of the contingents of orc troops who were marching out from the city, too late to defend the camp.

It was these arriving orc battalions that interested Eternal and he grew more cautious as he came closer to them. A bright morning sun provided useful shadows, but if he was too inattentive in his movements it could also pick him out like a spotlight. Cautiously, then, he crossed the muddy fields and crept among the burned-out ruins of the dwellings that used to form the outskirts of the city. Now he was perfectly safe. Shadow stretched to shadow all the way to the citadel and EV could travel as he pleased. Only if some of the senior orc commanders had magic at their disposal was there any chance of his being caught.

The walls of the city were destroyed and EV saw many points at which he could enter. Not long after climbing through a shattered tower, he heard a new tone in the distant shouts of battle. It was the citadel and from there, to his relief, he realised he was hearing yells of delight. High to his right, the garrison were waving their flags and banners to salute the arriving army.

More and more figures were gathering at the battlements, all them were waving and faint roars could be heard as the garrison urged on the relieving army. No doubt Alice and Tempus were among the cheering crowd, thrilled that their struggle to defend Mettleburghad been worthwhile.

8. Two-faced Mars

A heavy thumping tread on cobbled stone signalled the approach of a column of orcs, marching swiftly. Once they were at a safe distance, Eternal decided to follow them and soon came to a wide square in which the bulk of orc army was forming up.

‘No retreat for orc. No escape over the mountains.’ A particularly large, grim faced orc marched up and down the lines, brandishing a two-headed axe with aggressive motions that emphasised his words. ‘No caves to hide in. No stone walls to hold. From the river to the sea, nothing but death. Death in every direction.

‘It is the fate of orc to serve and to die. Orc care for nothing and no one is friend of orc. Pleasures in life are but few for orc and soon forgotten. And you. You have drunk your last ale. You have eaten your last meat. But one pleasure remains.’ The orc captain had timed his circumambulation through the troops to bring him to the front again at this point. He raised his axe high in both hands. ‘The pleasure of killing!’

This shout was met with roars of approval and the crash of weapon on shield.

‘When outside the gates we will march in a wedge, shields overhead. Come then. Your blades thirst for the blood of human and elf. Time to fight. Time to die.’

The idea of attempting to take out the orc chief was very appealing. Depending on the circumstances, it might be a genuine challenge to EV’s new powers. But as the orcs tramped out of the city, their leader was right at the front. Indeed, as his troops fell into place behind him, the orc captain became the very apex of the wedge formation he had called for. There was no possibility of EV intervening so he had to content himself with slipping along behind the orcs, ready to attack from the rear of their formation once the fighting began.

Nor was the battle long in starting. Already the orcs had been seen and volley upon volley of arrows was falling through the air to strum upon their shields.

Hurriedly, lines of human warriors were forming up in front of the elven archers, their chainmail shining silver and rose in the light of the still new day. As the grim-faced men and women prepared to meet the orc assault, EV experience a flush of pride. These were his comrades, brave and staunch in their determination to lift the siege of Mettleburg. They would not yield to the orcs.

In the last few paces before the lines met, the orcs suddenly doubled their pace and charged, hurling axes as they ran, to weaken the defenses of the human soldiers just before impact. The front of the orcwedge pushed all the way through the humans and deep into the body of elves before the orcs ceased moving upslope. Now, as the neat lines of troops broke up into a wild and confusing melee, it was difficult to understand the overall pattern. And the din from the battle was bewildering. It was time to help his friends.

His first three orcs died quickly, cut down by Acutus before they were even aware of their danger. But then EV found himself the centre of attention of a dozen orcs who were closing in from all directions. Wary of Acutus, they nevertheless were edging near to the point where the long reach of their weapons would allow them to strike without his being able to riposte.

‘Long live Mettleburg!’ With his own attempt to add to the cries and roars of battle, EV charged. He was relying on the nimbleness of his avatar and its newly acquired power to bring him through unscathed. After ducking beneath the clumsy swing of an axe and killing its owner, then tumbling on to a spot beside another orc, whose legs were instantly severed, EV’s confidence soared. But no sooner had he begun to believe that his avatar was too swift for these orcs than one of them surprised him. Instead of sweeping down the wickedly hooked head of his polearm towards EV, which would have taken all day, the orc lashed out unexpectedly with the shaft. The blow caught Eternal in the temple and he was on the ground, dizzy and regretting his complacency.

Trembling earth at his back. Pounding beats like drums in the sky above. Were these the effect of the smack to his head? No, for the orcs were all looking up and crying out warnings. Then he was surrounded by the legs of horses.

An angelic face, haloed by a white glow from polished armour leaned over him. It was Alice Swift, looking down from her horse, visor raised.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Aye.’ EV began to move again, to get up.

Sword to her helm, the paladin saluted him and spurred on her horse. ‘Hah!’

And she was gone, leaving a gleaming afterimage in his vision.

Eternal did not waste his second chance and took great care to only fight in situations where he could not be surrounded. For a while the fighting remained fierce, bitter, and unyielding. Even from the top of a rock, it was impossible to judge who was winning. None of the riders who had ridden out from Mettleburg were still on horseback and EV felt anxious for Alice and Tempus Denied.

In time, the numbers of dead on the slope were greater than those still living. In any other battle EV had known, one of the armies would have broken before experiencing such loses and the troops would have begun to flee. But not here. Not the battle of Mettleburg, 1339 AR, which, realised EV with a shiver, was destined to be as famous as that of Wizard’s Ford. Cheered by this thought and already composing a narrative of events in his head, he redoubled his efforts to pick out orcs and bring them down. But it was getting harder and harder to find enemy troops among the knots of humans and elves.

The last of the orcs was their chief, swinging his two-headed axe at a circle of humans and elves.

‘He’s mine.’ Willing Joke was a terrible sight, splashed as he was from head to foot in black blood.

The orc chief laughed. ‘Then it is you who shall carry my death curse. Unhappiness and failure will mark your every effort.’

‘Let’s test it, shall we?’

Fast though the orc chief was, his powerful muscles heaving the axe as though it were a broom, Willing Joke was lightning. With a shriek of metal on metal the two clashed and parted, the orc staggering.

‘No failure, this time.’

‘I die and now the curse is upon you.’ With his voice falling to a whisper, the orc collapsed.

9. Rebirth

The battle was over and EV was filled with delight that Mettleburg had been saved from the orc army.

Further up the slope, Tempus Denied was walking purposefully among the bodies, sometimes stopping to roll one over. Never had EV seen an avatar whose face was so miserable. The fact that Tempus’s armour was battered and torn reinforced the impression that the man was falling apart.

Tempus looked over at EV. ‘Alice, have you seen Alice?’

‘Not since she saved my life and rode on up the hill.’

‘Over here sire!’ a shout came from one of the Mettleburg militia.

And there she was, pale and beautiful and dead; her corpse surrounded by the bodies of a dozen orcs. Nearby, a mighty orc officer lay on his back, staring empty-eyed into the sky, and beside him was the main orc war banner.

‘Oh no.’ Tempus said softly. ‘No, no, no.’ He lumbered over to the body of the paladin and fell to his knees beside her. ‘All those memories lost. Like a sand mandala on the shore. I’m in love with her. But when I return, will she be in love with me?’

EV rested a hand upon the warrior’s shoulder.

‘Prepare yourself for the worst. And if it does come to pass that you’ve lost her love, then I know the cure. Ride a dragon towards an encounter with your greatest enemies.’

‘The General of Sword and the General of Bow?’ Tempus's voice was grim. ‘No matter what it takes. To revenge her loss, I’m going to make it my life’s work to destroy them.’

‘Well, not those particular enemies, actually. They are dead. I killed them.’

The degree of astonishment on Tempus’s face was an indication of the degree of Eternal's achievement and for a moment EV forgot about his and Tempus’s experience of heartbreak.

‘I backstabbed the General of Sword while he was fighting the red dragon and I chased down the General of Bow soon after.’

From behind EV someone had a serious coughing fit, in the middle of which the word ‘cheat’ could be heard distinctly.

‘Willing Joke!’ EV whirled around.

‘I’m sorry about Alice,’ Willing ignored Eternal and offered a hand to Tempus. ‘She won us the battle. It was tight enough for a while; those orcs were tough ones, veterans of many more battles than are our troops.’

Slowly, Tempus came to his feet. He shook his head. ‘I still can’t believe she’s lost all of this. The most magnificent two months of my life. What a siege. What a challenge. And what passion between us!’

***

A whole flight of dragons were banking, a glittering rainbow of colour sweeping through the sky. Not only was the view extraordinary, but the rush of wind in his hair, the music created out of dragon cries, and the heat of the dragon beneath him all helped create exactly the mixture of excitement and adventure that EV had striven for.

‘Like it?’

Behind him sat Angel, arms around his waist, head against his shoulder.

‘It’s wonderful. You have such an original mind. The most original mind in the Metaverse.’

‘Well hardly,’ he called back, ‘but it’s nice of you to say so.’

A select group of one hundred party-goers were flying in formation either side of EV and Angel. Some had dragons to themselves, others were riding as couples, and on one green dragon was a group of six of Eternal’s friends. Because of the rushing sound of the wind and the ambient background music, EV had set up a message box for group communications and he each time he checked it, he rejoiced to see the enthusiasm with which everyone was posting.

The party had a goal and, with some sleight-of-hand realignments to space-time, the dragons left their home planet behind them to draw closer to the spectacular visual display created by the corona of a Class M brown dwarf star.

Eternal Voyager to Dragon Party: For those of you not otherwise occupied, you might like to take a look at a real red dragon, restored, along with its mate, from the Epicsim. Don’t get too close though, they are dangerous.

Lady Sorrow to Dragon Party: Ohh. Ohh I want to be a dragon, that is just glorious.

Sol to Dragon Party. Man. It’s like a life of star surfing.

Slowly rotating around one another as they rose on a particularly powerful thermal were the red dragon and his mate. Closer towards the sun were their young: two bright sparks, clawing and biting one another in pretend battle. Lady Sorrow was right, it was a glorious image and even from a light week away, just by watching the indolent motions of the adult dragons, EV gathered a sense of how blissful it was for the creatures to bask in the radiant plasma.

‘You have a sweet soul, you know.’

It wasn’t necessary to turn around to know Angel was smiling, he could hear it in her voice.

‘I promised. And anyway, there is too much loneliness in the Metaverse.’

‘You are becoming less existentialist in your old age.’ Angel spoke as though mocking him, but her grip around him tightened and for a dozen heartbeats EV too basked in a radiant energy all of his own.