GTFIH WE’RE ON TV

hi youtube

PogChamp

EZZZZZZZ

PogChamp

What the fuck is that thing

WHATS GOING ON

boglands are fucking crazy lmaoooo

The comments were flying by so fast I could barely read them. Books cupped his ears with his hands to block out the awful crunching sound, and I copied him and cupped my ears. Words could not describe how jarring the sound was. It was like running a fractured piece of bone over styrofoam, over and over and over again.

Meat Shield sat on top of our carriage, watching the pandemonium unfold from a courtside seat. The slime started to slow down in its pace, and we began to increase our distance from it.

The commander threw obscenities out in the air like an angry bag of popcorn in the microwave.

“Blast that limp-dicked donkey-eared son-of-a-whore, didn’t he tell me that there weren’t any bog dwellers in this area? And we run into not just a regular bog dweller, but a giant one?”

“Yes, sir. I think he must have made a mistake with his map.”

“I’ll give him more than just an earful when we’re back from this mission. That little shit is going to have his spine straightened out.”

As I watched the bog dweller’s outline get smaller in the distance, I let out a sigh of relief. About three carriages were eaten, but we were moving with such a large force that the loss of three carriages was relatively insignificant.

“It just doesn’t make sense. There’s no way dwarves live in this kind of environment.”

“Maybe they’re underground?” Books replied.

“What, in the mud?”

“Ah, probably not. Then we’re just not in the dwarves’ region yet.”

I shrugged. It was no use speculating, since we were not being given much information about where we were going, and commander Isaac definitely was not in the mood to give out additional information at the moment.

Books smacked his seat emphatically.

“Look on the bright side, at least we dodged the one month penalty for now. That would’ve been really bad.”

“Yeah. Key words—for now.”

—————

My live stream of the attack on the carriage train was a big hit. Peaking at ten thousand concurrent viewers, I earned some money in stream donations made with in-game gold, and ad revenue. The amount of gold I earned really was not worth risking the month long death penalty, though.

We continued on through the night until morning without any additional incidents, making camp in the morning under the safety of the sunlight.

Thankfully the worst seemed to be behind us. We travelled for several days, and the boglands and swampy marshes melted away into lively grasslands once again. In front of us was now a steep cliff.

“Halt!”

Looking down the jagged cliff, there was a sweeping valley and river that marked the beginning of a mountain range like the Swiss Alps. There was only one way down the cliff, and it was through a slope on the side. At the commander’s orders, we proceeded through the slope and into the valley.

[Warning: You have entered Jagged Dorsa]

[Jagged Dorsa is a mountainous peninsula region filled with roaming monsters and perilous vertical terrain. Continue at your own discretion.]

[Death penalties will be severe from here on. If you die in this zone, you will be locked from respawning for one month.]

It was a similar warning to the one for the Boglands.

“Jagged Dorsa…”

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

The rocks on the ground were shaking.

The roar of some sort of massive beast rang through the mountainside. I swallowed. This felt like I just walked out of the beginner village and fell straight into Jurassic Park.

“Proceed!”

The commander silenced any chance of complaint, barking out orders and threatening to leave behind anyone that was found, as he put it ever so eloquently, ‘yapping unnecessarily’.

We continued onward, descending the mountain gorge into a lush valley with a forking river in the middle. The environment looked almost prehistoric, with the way that there was dense vegetation and vast swaths of tall grass, with zero signs of human life. We took a much needed break for lunch, allowing the horses to rest and drink water and for the regiment to forage for edible mushrooms and the like. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any large lifeforms in the vicinity.

At this point in the journey, it was clear why dried rations like biscuits that kept well over long periods of time were necessary. Fruits, meat, and other perishables were all rotten at this point. The commander allowed the regiment to hunt and forage as much as we wanted, as long as they were back in time for departure.

I was currently eating my rations with the rest of the regiment, near a large bonfire. The sun was high in the sky, but it was still a bit chilly with frequent wind activity. I had my stream open to a modest 17 viewers, which is pretty decent given the fact that they were just watching us have a picnic on a mountainside.

My viewership was up because of yesterday’s absolute chaos, and I now had an average of 15-20 viewers instead of 0-5 viewers like before. Obviously it was nothing compared to the 10,000 concurrent viewer high of yesterday, but I really shouldn’t be expecting too much from a glorified sightseeing stream.

That wasn’t to discount the sightseeing though. The view from here was absolutely gorgeous. I felt like if I sat around here just admiring the view, sooner or later I’d forget that this was Jagged Dorsa, a high penalty danger zone.

“Sir, is there really a dwarf settlement in this region?” one of the officers asked.

The commander seemed in a better mood today, presumably because we finally got through the Boglands and could rest a bit easier. He bit into a piece of jerky, then broke half a biscuit and chewed on that, washing it all down with some ale.

“Aye, the dwarves are tricky ones. I have reliable intel that says there’s a dwarf mining outpost about a day or two from here. Don’t have the exact location, so we’ll have to stake out the area.”

The officer didn’t look convinced.

“But how is it possible to live here?”

The commander took a drag from his cigar, and flicked the ashes onto the ground.

“Roger, tell me. How much do you know about dwarves?”

The officer called Roger flinched. “Erm, not much sir.”

Exhaling deeply, a cloud of smoke covered the commander’s visage.

“Dwarves are tricky folk. You see how there’s no signs of civilization anywhere here? Not even one sign of a shiny buttcheek from one of those little bastards?”

“That’s to throw you off their scent. Dwarves are crafty, carving deep tunnels into the mountains where they can transport rare ores and minerals from one outpost to another and hoard all their treasures.”

“Here, I’ll explain how they operate…”

———————

At Eclipse headquarters, data scientists and game developers gathered around the holographic monitor to watch the new developments in the game.

“Status report on the active disaster level event?”

“The monsters are slowing their advance to establish a foothold at Mountain, sir. The orcs are now transforming the island fortress into a breeding base.”

“Hah, we did give the Eclipse AI a lot of creative license, didn’t we. I distinctly remember that we coded the event to be a mindless all-out assault on human cities and territories.”

One of the scientists nodded.

“The quantum computer allows the AI to accurately interpret our cursory guidelines and translate them into precise details in the Eclipse server. It really is a remarkable feat of engineering. Kudos to your team.”

The scientist patted the lead engineer on the back, then took a sip from his coffee mug.

A member of the team stared at the world map that was displayed on a separate monitor.

“Do you think the dwarf expedition will go well?” he said softly. “One of the regiments already reached Jagged Dorsa.”

The lead scientist laughed. “Go well? There’s no way any army regiment that makes it to Jagged Dorsa is getting out in one piece.”

“Bullshit. At least a third will get out.”

The two men looked at each other fiercely with smiles on their faces.

“No way. It’s like that other time, where you said that party of four healers could kill those two kobolds. You’re wrong again this time. Nobody’s getting out of Jagged Dorsa.”

A third person joined the conversation.

“I’ll bet at least ten people get out.”

The lead scientist scoffed loudly. “Hah, you’re out of your mind, Scott.”

“Sure about that? Want to bet?”

“Sure thing. I’ll bet thirty that nobody comes out of Jagged Dorsa alive.”

“I’ll bet fifty that at least ten people make it out.”

“Deal.”

More team members joined in on the heated debate, and eventually it was proposed to have a friendly office-wide betting pool on the fate of the Fourth Draft Regiment, which was the only regiment to have reached Jagged Dorsa at the moment.

A betting odds table was quickly thrown together using a dry erase marker on a whiteboard. One of the interns wheeled the whiteboard stand around the room so everyone could see the odds.

Entire regiment survives – 50:1

More than half the regiment survives – 20:1

Ten or less soldiers survive – 10:1

Five or less soldiers survive – 5:1

Zero soldiers survive – 10:1

The atmosphere in the office bustled with jovial spirit while debating the fates of the unfortunate souls currently at Jagged Dorsa.

-----------------

“Aaaaaand, fire!”

Whoosh.

A volley of arrows from the regiment whistled through the air towards the herd of large buffalo stampeding through the valley, slowing down several.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Meat Shield’s eyes shining with anticipation as we hunted game meat for dinner.