“Goblins!” one of the adventurers shouted, as the air was laced with another deadly brace of little, ugly, black-barbed arrows from the side streets.

“What?!” Connor strained to look past the sea of heads and bodies, hearing their panicked screams before suddenly catching sight of what the others had seen.

There, out at the end of the street, spilling between the houses were small, fast-moving forms, hunched over and clutching curving, barbed weapons, or short bows.

And their skin was undeniably green.

“It has to be the goblins from Heartbreak Ridge!” Dargan said, already tearing his cloak from around his shoulders so that it wouldn’t get in the way of him fighting. “That scouting party we encountered was only the start!”

Connor nodded, knowing the dwarf was probably correct.

Quest: The Battle of Woodville

You have been offered a quest to defend Woodville from the horde of monsters.

Reward: Unknown

Accept: Yes / No

Before Connor could accept or decline the quest, Dargan was charging into action.

“Get out of my way! I know how to deal with gobbos!” the dwarf roared as he started to push his way through the crowd. Something made Connor seize the smaller figure by the shoulders, before Dargan could push himself straight through the crowd and to the front of the coming battle.

“No re-spawning! No logging out!” Connor hissed into the dwarf’s ear.

The stout red-haired figure looked up and glared at him, but Connor refused to relent. “Didn’t you read what it said in the manual? All deaths are permanent!”

“What?” The dwarf was, for the moment, confused as the sounds of angered roars and sudden shrieks of pain increased. “They’re gobbo’s! We know how to deal with them!”

“Legends is now a real-time, real-threat experience!” Connor pulled on the dwarf, succeeding in pulling Dargan back several paces into the Inn’s main room, where other patrons and adventurers were currently drawing weapons, or hiding under the tables.

“We can’t log out!” Connor hissed. “You saw the notice. All logging out is disabled, and when we die in the game, we die for real!”

Dargan the dwarf opened and closed his mouth, unable or unwilling to admit that what Connor was saying was true. The half elf could tell that the dwarf believed him, even if he didn’t want to.

“But that means . . .” Dargan muttered grimly.

There was another scream from just outside the Inn, and the pair rushed to the glass, looking out to see what was happening.

The Barbarian had vanished, and, there was another figure falling to the floor. One of the dark-cloaked Warrior types, with arrows sticking out of his chest. As Connor and Dargan watched, they saw the man shudder on the floor, desperately try to reach for his sword but never make it. His hand dropped to the ground, and then he lay still.

The body didn’t fade away or disperse, it just...stayed.

“That’s what happens to NPC’s and monsters,” Dargan breathed. “Player Characters are supposed to return to the loading area, so they can create another character and start again if they want to.”

“Not any more they don’t,” Connor whispered.

There was another roar from the crowd of adventurers followed by a sudden flash of brilliant blue light.

One of the Clerics had stepped forward, their purple robes flaring around them as they raised their hands and suddenly pushed them forward, toward the goblin horde.

A dazzling ball of blue light shot out from the Cleric’s hands and struck the first of the goblin archers. The creature was lifted off their feet and flung backward into the wall of the nearest building.

“Yes!” Dargan hissed, and even Connor curled his lips in a savage smile.

It was too little, though. Connor quickly realized that they were all only starting level characters, most only level 2 like himself, or even lower. He saw the purple-robed cleric stagger forward, Vitality exhausted from that single spell.

Suddenly, one of the charging goblins rushed forward, leaped into the air, and flung its short spear straight into the cleric’s chest.

“No!” Connor shouted helplessly, his blood suddenly running cold.

“Hungh!” The cleric fell back into the crowd behind them, and then the floor, with the goblin’s spear still protruding from their belly.

That seemed to turn the tide of the battle, as the other adventurers realized what Connor and Dargan already had. Their defiant roars turned into shuts of panic, as they suddenly started scattering, each of them terrified of being the next to get skewered in a real-time, real-threat experience.

“No, don’t go that way!” Connor hissed, watching as three adventurers peeled off down the main streets, with whooping and chittering goblins racing after them.

The rest were stampeding into the Inn itself, charging into the common room as the goblin horde surged forward.

“Barricades! Quick, set up a barricade!” Dargan shouted, already turning to grab one end of a heavy wooden table.

“Help me!” The dwarf demanded. Connor couldn’t refuse and grabbed the other end of the heavy table. The pair flipped the table onto its side and pushed it toward the window, the table top facing the window.

The glass suddenly shattered, raining down on them as a goblin smashed the window, attempting to push its way bast the barricade and into the room.

Connor takes 2 Health points damage from Glass Shards.

Connor ducked, scrambling backward into the room as the other, un-barricaded window suddenly exploded open as two more goblins had hurled themselves through it. The monsters were small and fierce, with twin blades in their hands and mismatched, rusted armor plates covering their bodies.

Name: Goblin Berserker

Level: 2

Size: Small

Health: 20 / 20

Vitality: 18 / 18

Agility: 13

Charisma: 3

Intelligence: 5

Stamina: 9

Strength: 7

Wisdom: 5

If they were anything like other games, the Goblin Berserkers were designed to cause as much damage as possible before they died.

True to form, the closest Berserker lunched toward Connor swinging a sword at his head. Connor dove forward, rolling across the floor and narrowly avoiding the goblin’s attempt to decapitate him.

Goblin Berserker attacks Connor with Shortsword. Attack dodged; no damage done.

Connor pulled his ax free from the loop on his belt as he completed his roll and turned to face the monster.

The Goblin Berserker was fast, though, and was already spinning around to slice with their second blade straight at him. Connor raised his hand-ax to block, but the goblin’s blade bit into his arm.

Goblin Berserker attacks Connor with Shortsword causing 9 Health points of damage. Goblin Blade laced with Night Oil poison. Effect: Poison causes 6 Health points of damage every hour until healed.

“What? Come on!” Connor hissed as he felt the pain tear up his forearm from the strike.

The goblin was spinning once again, turning in another pirouette as it raised its swords, preparing for a two-handed strike with both blades.

With a snarl, Connor lashed out with his hand-ax, and, although the goblin was faster than he was, it didn’t appear committed to defending itself at all. They were simply filled with a crazed with homicidal blood-lust.

Connor’s ax struck home, and the goblin was thrown back with a snarl of anger.

Connor attacks Goblin Berserker with Hand-ax for 8 Health points damage. Berserk rage reduces defense, increasing damage done by 50%. Total damage done: 12 Health points.

Connor had a moment to breathe, as his opponent regrouped for another attack, apparently oblivious to the damage done by the ax. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor could see that other adventurers were attempting to surround the other berserker in the room. There was already one body on the floor of the tavern, though, and the rest of the group was less than eager to exchange blows, knowing that their death was now permanent.

How do you think I feel?! Connor complained.

The Goblin Berserker he was fighting one-on-one darted toward him again, sword flashing through the air, and he threw himself to the side to avoid the blade.

Goblin Berserker attacks Connor with Shortsword. Attack dodged; no damage done.

This time, Connor kept his balance, already knowing that the goblin was going to fast-attack with the other blade again this time, too.

He pulled up his ax-blade just in time and the second sword clanged into it, sending a jolt of pain down his arm as he parried slashing blade.

Goblin Berserker attacks Connor with Shortsword. Attack blocked; no damage done.

Connor was backing away, but his legs suddenly banged into something just below the knees. He started to topple backward over a stray bench as the goblin struck out once more.

The half-elf allowed himself to fall backward, as the Berserker’s blade sailed harmlessly before his eyes where his head had been a moment later. At the same time, he kicked out with his feet, and caught the Berserker in the ankle.

Goblin Berserker attacks Connor with Shortsword. Attack dodged; no damage done.

“Ssst!” The Goblin hissed, starting to topple to one side.

Connor took the momentary advantage to strike out with his small ax.

Connor attacks Goblin Berserker with Hand-ax for 8 Health points damage. Berserk rage reduces defense, increasing damage done by 50%. Total damage done: 12 Health points. Goblin Berserker has been killed.

You have been awarded 200 Experience Points for slaying Goblin Berserker.

“Dargan? Dargan!” Connor was pushing himself back to his feet as the other Berserker had finally fallen to the group of timid adventurers. He could also see that Dargan had finished the third goblin that had tried to scramble through the window they had barricaded with the table. The dwarf was already lifting another table to block the other open window.

“We can hold them! We’re good and defensible in here!” Dargan shouted at the crowd of adventurers, some of whom who were rushing chairs and benches to the main door of the Lucky Dragon Inn to copy what Dargan was doing.

But not all of the adventurers in there were as brave as the dwarf. Almost half, Connor saw, were pressing themselves against the walls, terrified of being struck.

“They’re going to kill us! I don’t want to die in here!” one of the largest and meanest looking of the fighters bellowed.

“I said we can hold!” Dargan turned to roar at them. “We’re fighters, warriors, clerics, wizards… Adventurers, damn it! We can hold off a goblin horde any day of the week!”

Connor was impressed at the dwarf’s guts. He wasn’t sure if this was madness or bravery, but he was impressed. With that said, he was more inclined to agree with the others here who wanted to save their own skin.

“Just what do you think is going to happen?” Dargan continued to roar, as the sound of ghoulish chittering and shrieking outside only increased.

“That they’re just going to forget about us and leave? This is what is before us! This is how we survive!” Dargan demanded of them, and, to his surprise, Connor saw hope kindle in the eyes of several of the adventurers. He even felt his is own heart stir at the speech. The dwarf was good at leadership, Connor thought.

You have been instilled with Courage by Dargan Fire-brow.

Effect: 25% increase in attack damage.

Damn, he really is good at this leadership stuff, Connor thought, knowing that Dargan probably had a Charisma that was a whole lot higher than his own.

Suddenly, all sounds outside the room went quiet. Completely quiet.

“What – what are they doing?” asked one of the nervier adventurers. The woman had a shock of golden blonde hair said and gripped their short sword tightly.

“Shh!” Dargan urged everyone, creeping back to the barricaded tables and chairs between them and the goblin horde.

There was another moment of complete quiet, as the entire room seemed to hold its breath.

And then there was a snicker of goblin laughter from outside.

“What are they doing?” another one of the other adventurer’s hissed, this time a burly man with dark brown hair, and the look of a merchant about them.

“Quiet, I can’t hear!” Dargan pressed his ear to the flat wood of the table. “I hear ‘em sneaking around out there.”

No sooner had the dwarf said than Connor’s nose twitched. An Inn was normally a place with a rich ecosystem of smells—stale ale, roasting meats, smoke from the fireplace, unwashed patrons—but this was different. It was smoke, but not from a fireplace or cookfire.

Connor’s sharp half-elven eyes spotted a wisp of grey-white escaping in the gap between table and window top, and then another, a little way away from the first.

“Fire!” He gasped, turning to look at the door. There was now an acrid, bitter taste to the air, too. Something that smelled like chemicals, even a little like how Tokyo smelled, all the time.

“The Half-elf’s right. Look—over there!” the burly, merchant-looking adventurer exclaimed, pointing to the door, where there was now a thickened gauze of smoke spilling into the room.

Connor suddenly realized just what that sound was, too. It was pitch, wasn’t it? Pitch or tar or lamp oil.

“They’re trying to smoke us out!” Dargan snarled in horror and rage, as a sudden sheet of flame erupted over the top of the table, between that and the window.

“No, they’re not,” Connor growled. “They’re trying to burn us alive!”

There was a sudden caterwauling of joyous, savage cries from outside, as another tongue of flame joined the first, and then another until the entire front room window barricades were a blazing inferno.

“Water!?” Dargan was calling in panic.

“Water’s not going to stop all that, mate,” Connor said. He grabbed the dwarf’s shoulder, pulling him back from the blaze. He turned around to look at the back of the bar, where there were other adventurers already having the same idea as he was.

“This way! The back of the Inn. There’s got to be another way out!” the burly merchant-looking adventurer said, leading the way as he ran past the bar with most of the crowd of adventurers already pushing and shoving in their effort to follow him.

“Dargan!” Connor said, as the dwarf turned to follow the others.

“They’re right, we can’t wait here,” Dargan was growling.

“Wait!” the Half-Elven said. “Think about it, they’ve set fire to the front of the Inn. What else is going to happen?” Connor followed Dargan as they hurried down the passageway at the back of the Inn. The press of adventurous bodies was ahead of them, clambering over barrels and sacks of grain as they attempted to force their way through the door at the back.

Connor watched as the back door of tavern burst open revealing their path to freedom. He heard the victorious cries of freedom from the burly merchant lookalike. And then he heard the first scream, followed by a ghoulish goblin laughter.

“It’s a trap!” Dargan breathed.

“Of course it is. The goblins were forcing us out, but they’re waiting for us out there, too!” Connor said, his heart pounding.

“How do we get out, then! That way is on fire, and that way has a goblin welcome party!” Dargan was hissing.

He was answered by the panicked squeal of a voice from beside the bar—the halfling innkeep.

“This way, you lumbering idiots! Down into the root cellar! I got a tunnel that leads out to the water well!” The halfling was already heaving aside the bench that sat behind the bar, revealing a trapdoor with a great iron ring.

“Help me!” the halfling hissed and Connor and Dargan grabbed the iron ring. They heaved it up, and the trap door groaned in protest, creaking as it was slowly pulled opened.

“Hurry! Follow me!” The halfling barkeep jumped down into the darkness. Dargan and Connor quickly followed, pulling the trapdoor closed behind them. They found themselves in a dank, and quite musty cellar with brick arches supporting the ceiling.

“Here, this way, this way!” The halfling hurried them onward, one hand drawing forth a small magical torch—a metal box with a glowing blue gem inside—while the other clutched at a bag of coins they had rescued from their bar.

“No sense in letting the green skins take’em, is there!” the halfling hissed back, as he led the way to the back of the root cellar, where a small wooden door was partly obscured by sacks. Connor could hear distant thumps and whoops of vicious joy from above them as they moved the bags then flung open the door to reveal a long stretch of corridor, leading both right and left.

“That way leads you to the well, it’s the quickest way out,” the halfling pointed left, then turned right.

“Hey, wait,” Connor said. “Where are you going?”

“This way comes out on the other side of the village, I’ve got a cousin there, and I’m not fleeing without them. You do what you want, but I’m going!” the halfling said, kicking the door shut as he turned and scampered down the right-hand passageway, taking the only lamp they had, with him.

Connor looked at Dargan, who had nodded toward the same conclusion.

“We need to rest up, regroup, and work out what is going on,” Dargan echoed Connor’s thoughts exactly. They were not prepared to throw themselves into another battle, straight away.

They hurried down the passageway to the left.