It was dark outside, the start of another work-day for my Shadow-Touched monster clan.

Leaving the Chief’s House, I walked toward the edge of the settlement and climbed the ladder to the stone shelf above the entrance to Nihilator’s cave. I’d started calling it Totem’s Watch.

Looking over the moonlit valley spread before me, I couldn’t help but smile. Two weeks had passed since the Ogre attack on the clan, and all signs of the destruction they had wrought were gone.

More than that, the expansion and progress of Goblin’s Gorge had leaped forward. Taking advantage of the surge in manpower and resources, as well as the clan’s victory bonus, our little hamlet was growing at a steady pace.

The valley was dotted with newly finished buildings and more were under construction … and we had roads!

The first new building we built after the Ogre invasion was a Woodcutter’s Hut, which increased our logging output by 20%. With three Lumberjacks feeding logs into the Lumber Yard, and Woody, the former-Lumberjack-turned-Millworker processing them, our lumber production rate skyrocketed. Last I checked we were producing nearly 60 units of lumber a day.

With the wood surplus, I decided it was time to fix the morale issues that had plagued my clan for so long. Zuban and I put our heads together to plan, and decided to finally build decent lodgings for my followers. Zuban and his crew had already finished eight Cabins, and were working on the final two. Each Cabin housed four goblins. Ten of those would provide enough beds to last us a good while.

As we had planned, Zuban built the Cabins in a row, wall to wall, at the edge of the forest. They would double as a wall between the open land and the forest. It was yet another layer in our defensive strategy, like the thornthistle hedge.

When the first few cabins were completed, I learned to my chagrin, they didn’t solve the morale issues for all clan members, only that of the workers. The warriors didn’t care about residential sleeping quarters, and ordering them to use the cabins didn’t address their morale penalties. Instead, warriors required a proper Barracks. Bob, my hob lieutenant, claimed the barracks would also provide other benefits to my warriors, though he couldn’t specify exactly what they were.

I guess I will find out soon enough, I contemplated, watching with satisfaction the skeleton of the large building being constructed.

A couple of days ago, Zuban and Romil, our resident goblin researcher, had finally finished researching the blueprints for the Barracks. I’d diverted half of my Builders, all now highly experienced, to work on it.

The barracks was going to be a huge structure, even bigger than the mess hall. And it called for a lot of building resources.

Our Lumber Yard easily provided the required 80 lumber, and Barzel, the resident goblin smith managed to produce the 20 metal ingots needed. Stone proved a little more difficult to produce in sufficient quantity, as quarrying was exhausting, slow work.

But experience had taught me to plan ahead. For the first week the Builders worked exclusively on wooden buildings, namely the cabins, while our two Stonemasons built up our stock. So we managed to accumulate the required 50 stacks of stone for the barracks.

To my dark enhanced vision, the valley was as clear as if it were lit by a noon sun. Below me, a packed dirt road stretched from the mouth of the cave, through the settlement, leading all the way toward the forest path. I had learned from Zuban that our new hob clan members were capable of building roads. According to him, all hobgoblins shared a racial feature which gave them an innate understanding how to build rudimentary fortifications. Building basic roads was part of that. The roads accentuated the layout of the settlement, giving it shape. The roads also provided easy access to my workers, increasing their speed and consequently the overall efficiency of the settlement by 1%.

I watched the hustle and bustle of the moonlit valley, my clanmates busily carrying supplies, crafting, producing, and developing our small hamlet.

Five hobgoblins were busily expanding the network of roads. It was hard to believe that only seven weeks had passed since I first established the clan.

Suddenly a strange feeling came over me. I felt light, unburdened, giddy almost.

“Crap.”

I knew what that meant. I had felt it before.

Time was slowing down.

There were travelers nearby.

***

I paced in my house restlessly. Looking out the window every few minutes, impatiently waiting for an update.

At last, there was a knock on my door.

Ashlazaria, the hobgoblin scout and Zuban’s girlfriend walked in. My other hobgoblin scout, Yulli, along with one of the Ogres, was away, escorting the coal mining expedition.

Towering over me by almost half a goblin height, Ashlazaria bowed her head respectfully.

“Report.”

“Yes, Dread Totem.” She straightened. “Six Travelers are moving through the forest. They are staying close to the mountainside, fast approaching the valley entrance.”

I grimaced, that was bad news. At least there were only six of them.

“Describe them in detail.”

She paused, her eyes becoming distant. “Two of them are wearing robes, one red, one white, no weapons. Two have leather armor, one with two short swords, the other is carrying a large two-hander. They are being led by an elf wearing green clothes and carrying a longbow, possibly a scout.”

“You said there are six of them.” I reminded her.

She nodded. “There is another, a dwarf. He is...different. I can’t explain it exactly. He has metal armor, an axe and a large shield. When I looked at him ....” She scowled, ”I felt strange when I looked at him. I felt like I wanted to flee for my life. But at the same time, I had to keep myself from attacking him and biting out his throat right then and there.” She shivered. “That one is not normal.”

So… A traveler scouting party. I reasoned. But what the hell are they doing here, so far away from civilization? It was common knowledge among Travelers that this area was not civilized. It would have taken them days to march all the way here through the Deadlands, so I didn’t understand their reasons for being here.

According to Ashlazaria’s description it sounded like they had a standard party, albeit beefed up; A mage, a healer, a scout, a couple of damage dealers and a tank.

Whatever reason they were here for, I couldn’t allow their continued presence. If they kept going as they were for much longer, there was a good chance they would find my clan.

Just as bad was the fact they brought their accursed ‘slow’ time with them, bringing the town’s development down. The closer they got, the slower we got.

No, I had to stop them. Permanently. The sooner the better.

In the past couple of weeks I used my energy points sparingly. Not wishing to spend it all frivolously, I kept them for a time they would be most needed. Now I had a clear and imminent threat to deal with. The time for caution was over.

I had saved more than 2000 energy points over two weeks period. That, along with the boost I had gotten from sacrificing Barska, I had a total of 5143 EP at my disposal.

And I knew just where to put them.

Exiting my house, I walked toward the Mess hall.

I accessed the Settlement Interface and opened the Energy Options. I had the required energy to promote one of my followers into a boss, but up until now I was undecided as to who to promote. There were too many factors to consider. The Travellers presence simplified that decision.

I needed firepower.

I came into a stop in front of a massive drowsing Ogre. The only one currently in Goblin’s Gorge. The hulking Ogres represented a fearsome fighting force. An Ogre boss would be even more deadly. That's what I now needed.

“Get up.” I ordered the snoring beast.

No response.

Vic, wake him up.

My purple shaped Vicloak swept to my sides, disengaging from my shoulders, flowing across the Ogre’s body and wrapping around his head.

With a yelp the Ogre leapt to his feet and began clawing at his face, trying to remove the madly giggling Vic.

That’s enough Vic.

Disengaging himself from the startled Ogre, Vic returned to perch around my shoulders.

The Ogre towered above me. His massively powerful body was easily ten times my weight, and I wasn’t the small goblin I used to be.

Finally noticing the goblin standing at his feet, the Ogre acknowledged me. “Mas-Ter.”

“It’s your lucky day.” I informed him dryly. “Seeing as your friend is currently away from the valley, you have been selected for a promotion.”

Accessing the Boss Options menu I clicked on Promote Boss, focusing on the Ogre before me.

Promote: Ogre, level 13 to: Boss [tier 1], Cost: 1000 EP. Yes/No?

Yep.

Another prompt appeared before me. That is new.

Please select boss type:

Ogre Berserker: A whirling unstoppable and uncontrollable force of destruction. Will only stop fighting when either it, or all enemies are dead.

Boss bonus skills: Blind Rage, Lash Out [AoE] Ogre Ravager: Wild fighter that excels at delivering high damage attacks at specific targets.

Boss bonus skills: Smash, Shockwave [AoE] Ogre Gladiator: A cunning fighter who knows how to exploit the surroundings and enemy weaknesses. Gain access to mana based skills.

Boss bonus skills: Dirty Tricks, Terrible Roar [AoE]

I found it weird that I didn’t see an Ogre Chief or an Ogre Mage among the options. Those were the usually encountered Ogre bosses.

Vic remarked offhandedly.

So these are the available boss types that will follow my commands?

I nodded. The Ogre Berserker and Raverger were basically just an enhanced version of the standard Ogres, that wouldn’t do. If I was going to have another boss in the clan, one who would assume command in my absence, I needed him to be able to use his head. Even though Ogres were not the best candidate for the role of an intelligent second officer, the need for a combat oriented ally was the prime requirement.

“I name you Rhynorn Bloodore,“ I said and selected ‘Ogre Gladiator.’

The brute before me began to change. He grew a full Ogre-head taller and his muscles swelled. Bone plates grew out and around his shoulders, elbows and knees, covering them with a thick armor. The plates then grew sharp bone spikes, arming the already deadly beast with even more weapons. Barbaric tattoos seeped across his skin, etched in deepest black.

But the most striking change was in his demeanor; the Ogre’s vapid expression turned cunning and predatory. He looked down at me, weighing me with a searching, penetrating gaze. Measuring me.

He was still butt-ugly though.

Vic informed me unnecessarily. I could feel the power of the creature's presence for myself, causing my Dangersense to tingle.

“Welcome to the Green Pee--grrahhh!”

The Ogre had wrapped his ham-sized hand around my neck, and lifted me effortlessly to his eye level.

“I BE THE CHAMPION!” He declared with copious spraying of Ogre spit. His enunciation of the words was surprisingly clear...for an Ogre.

“You serve the champion now! GO, find more fights for me, and bring me much food and females!”

Ohhhh, hell no. This wasn’t going well at all.

I thought you said he wouldn’t challenge me! I projected accusingly at Vic.

I narrowed my eyes and stared the Gladiator down. Pouring mana into a spell.

“You are here to serve me.”

With those words, I released my mana and cast an empowered Web. Shadowy ropes leapt out of the ground and wrapped the Ogre in a dark, entangling net, ensnaring him.

I wriggled and managed to escape the grasp of the suddenly incapacitated creature, slipping through my own net like it wasn’t there. I had to hurry, the effect would only hold a few seconds against this beast.

I commanded the Sacrificial Bone Dagger out of my belt and to hover in front of his eyes.

“Now you listen here,” I said in my most confident and threatening voice. “I am the Chief of this clan, and you are my second. Obey me, and you will have your fights, and all the food you want. Getting you some females might take some time though.”

The Ogre muscles bulged and strained. With a quick jerk of his hands he ripped his hands free from the web. He stared down at me, his eyes full of malevolence. Then he looked up at the dagger, still hovering in front of his eyes and seemed to be considering my words.

After a long moment he finally bowed his head. “You arrange fights and bring me many foods. I will list ten to you…for now.”

Barter skill level increased to 9

I was nonplussed, he’s going to list ten of what?

Ohh jeez, he means listen, Nihilator help me when this blinding light tries to say Dread Totem.

“Well, you’re in luck” I replied dryly. “There’s an enemy approaching as we speak and we are going to put them down. Speaking of luck…”

I narrowed my eyes, concentrating and granted him the Lucky Bastard skill.

Analyze.

Rhynorn Bloodore, Ogre Gladiator [Boss, tier 1]

Level 13 (10%)

P:16, M:2, S:-1

HP: 300, MP: 165

Skills: Powerful: 22, Blunt weapons: 20, Dirty Tricks 10, Terrible Roar 10, Lucky Bastard 1

Traits: Ogre (+4P, -2M, -2S), Frenzy (when below 100 HP), Boss boon I (10 HP & 5 MP per level; +2P, +1M, +1S, +20% Magic Resist, +10 Armor), Shadow-Touched

Resistances: Armor: 45, Physical: 75%, Magic: 50%

Background: Once little more than a feral beast, now uplifted to Boss rank by a goblin Dread Totem.

Huh, an Ogre with points in Mental attribute. It explained his relatively sophisticated speech.

That was a good thing. Simply having points in Mental didn’t mean the person was a spellcaster. Many Physical oriented creatures used mana for special, non-magical skills. A martial artist for example was a melee combatant who used mana for special martial maneuvers. That thought made me curious what an Ogre Kung-fu master would look like. Too bad it wasn’t one of the available options.

We didn’t have much time. According to Ashlazaria, the Travelers would reach the valley entrance soon. We had to intercept them before they discover our settlement.

“Vic, gather all our warriors and have them meet us near the forest path.”

Vic replied in his usual, carefree tone. His cloak-like body slid from my shoulders, transforming into his purple goblin shape as he ran to follow my orders.

There was time for a quick tweak or two. I accessed the Energy Options again, and opened the Upgrade Option.

Rhynorn Bloodore. Skill increase: Dirty Tricks 11, Cost: 32 energy. Confirm: Yes\No?

Rhynorn Bloodore. Skill increase: Terrible Roar 11, Cost: 32 energy. Confirm: Yes\No?

A single upgrade for each of this boss’s unique skills, would raise them into the Apprentice Rank, improving their effectiveness. Not long ago, I would have hesitated to spend 64 energy points on such things, but it was a drop in the bucket of the energy available to me now.

I approved both upgrades.

Dirty Tricks (P)

Enables a variety of special combat maneuvers against opponents; trip, disarm, misdirect.

Countered by physical resistance.

The higher the skill, the higher the chance for the attempt to be successful.

Dirty Tricks imposes a damage penalty. Cost 10 MP. Speed 5.

Level 11: Apprentice: a successful attempt allows for an immediate second attack.

Effect: success chance 72% (with size bonus)

Terrible Roar (P)

Unleash a tremendous roar that has a chance to impart the Shaken status to enemies. Countered by physical resistance. Cost: 50 MP. Speed 30.

Level 11: Apprentice: the roar invigorates and rallies allies.

Effect I: shaken enemies are slowed. Spellcasting might be interrupted. Radius: 11 meters.

Effect II: allies gain an immediate additional attack. Radius 11 meters.

Boss special bonus: skill cooldown is reset every time 20% health is lost.

It looked like I did the right thing. The apprentice bonuses was invaluable, it had nearly doubled the amount of damage the Ogre could dish out when attacking with Dirty Trick, and the Terrible Roar ability to buff allies was going to be quite handy.

Motioning Rhynorn to follow, we made it toward the valley’s exit, where my other troops waited. Both my lieutenants, Vrick and Bob, stood at the front of the group. They’d known one another for a while now, but still looked uncomfortable in each other’s company. It was understandable, not long ago they were leading forces at different sides of a conflict. This would be their first skirmish fighting side by side.

Standing behind them, were Ashlazaria the scout and the four hobgoblin warriors.

“Where’s Bek?” I looked around.

The hobgoblins looked at each other, then parted to reveal Bek standing behind them.

“Here, Dread Totem.” The goblin piped.

Seven soldiers and a healer, all between levels 5 to 7. And two bosses. And a host of cannon-fodder foblins. Those were the forces I had to confront six Travelers of unknown levels and abilities. I feverishly hoped it’ll be enough.

With a thought I established a War Party and included everyone.

“Let’s head out.”

We turned and followed the road out of the valley.

***

Tom Wilkins smiled in the early morning sunlight as he walked to his parking spot. One of the perks of his new assignment was driving himself to work instead of riding the sardine-packed pub-trans in rush-hour.

Tom was a FIVR technician with a background in healthcare. His assignments usually involved visiting the homes of the rich, in the heavily populated and congested parts of the city. So most days he had to rely on public transportation.

His latest ‘client’ resided in a quiet suburb, less than an hour’s drive out of the big city. Tom loved the new routine. Instead of standing in line with the masses, he could now drive to work. His client’s house had parking around it.

The radio played country music for a while, then the news came on. As usual, nothing interesting was happening in the world; the usual wars were ongoing in South Asia, the price of gold was down, and the Israeli R&D department of the company released a new FIVR gadget, increasing share value by 12 points.

Not that I would see a cent from that, Tom thought, as he drove up to his client’s house driveway, parking his car.

“Tom.” Jerry, the night shift technician greeted him somberly.

“Morning Jerry,” Tom waved him as he entered the house.

They had worked on the same jobs for several years now, and were by now accustomed to the coincidence of their name and for the friendly tease they occasionally received from their few joined friends.

Tom stopped in his track, noticing his friend’s uneasiness. “Something wrong with the client?”

Jerry ran a hand through his hair. “Something weird happened during the night, I don’t really know what to make of it.”

Tom tilted his head. “What happened?”

“Come, see for yourself.”

The two walked into the next room.

Electronic cables spread all over the floor, connecting the FIVR capsule at the center to various other support systems. The capsule itself was elevated by six slender robotic legs, which were slowly rotating it. Tom could see the clear biotech liquid swirling gently inside the capsule, sustaining its occupant.

“Over here” Jerry pointed at one of the monitoring screens.

Tom studied the screen for a moment then frowned. “I see what you mean. The brain waves are different than the last two days. What happened?”

In response, Jerry pushed a few buttons and the brainwave image was changed, depicting spikes of over 300% the normal value.

“This happened around 3am,” Jerry indicated at the spikes. “I called it in, but was told to watch and report on any further changes. After about an hour, the spikes were over, but the brainwave patterns were altered, as you see now.”

Tom nodded. Instead of the rhythmic, ordered patterns of waves the client’s brain produced over the past two days, it now looked… structured. There were no occasional peeks, or variation in the length of time for each wave. It looked almost… engineered.

Tom frown deepened. “Why do those look familiar?”

Jerry nodded, clicked a few new buttons and the picture changed, depicting a very similar graph, though it used a different color.

Tom gasped. “That’s impossible.”

“I know” Jerry replied grimly.

“That’s…that’s the data stream output for in-game NPCs!”

“I know.”

The two exchanged worried looks.

“All the vitals look ok though,” Jerry pointed at a different screen.

Tom looked at the screen, his eyes pausing over a specific number.

“Holy hell…” He mouthed. “It can’t be...Ninety nine percent?”

“Yes” Jerry nodded. “Mr. Berman here has just achieved the second highest Cerebral Connectivity Percentage in the world.”