Chapter 610: Only one
Mason stalked through the palace halls in his uncomfortable suit, Haley just about running to keep up beside him. He tore off his tie about halfway, but kept from kicking off the shoes.
“I should have had breakfast first,” he said, ignoring the few servants who bowed and scraped as he passed.
“Patience, my love,” Haley said, puffing as she jogged along. “And slow down for us mortals, please.”
He took a breath and moved to the agonizing crawl of normal human speed.
“So Carl and the others are up and ready? I want to meet with them first so we’re all on the same page.”
“They’re waiting in the main board room, the others are in the room attached,” Haley confirmed. “It’s apparently soundproof, if that worries you. Also do you think we should appoint a few of the more important positions now? It might make it easier to tell the easterners who’s responsible for what.”
He nodded, not sure if he should appoint all his own people, or wait and look for at least a few easterners like Rahman. He figured he’d see what the others thought before he decided.
More servants waited along the halls, or scurried out from mystery rooms with trays. When they finally arrived, some guy who belonged in one of those British monarchy shows opened the door, and Mason smiled awkwardly as he stepped through.
“King Mason Nimitz,” announced the doorman.
A dozen of Masons’ people looked up from around a boardroom table. It was most of his players, plus a few key civilians like Sylvie and Peni the smith. For now, he wouldn’t bring more civilians.
After their experience with the goblin mountain and getting attacked by demons, he didn’t want to bring them until they felt the city was totally safe.
“My liege,” Seamus said, standing with a dramatic bow.
“Divine lord,” said Carl, bowing his head with his hands as if in prayer.
Mason cleared his throat as the snickering started, giving the increasingly pink doorman a forced smile.
“No need for that sort of thing. Thank you. We’re pretty informal.”
He gestured at Haley, who thanked the easterners then ushered every servant out of the room, until he was alone with his people. The snickers turned to laughter from the players, who stood and finished off coffees or stretched, looking like they were finally relaxing.
“These people are loony, boss,” Garet said. “I mean I’ve never seen so many sycophantic little boot lickers in my whole life. And I worked on movie sets.”
“Last night.” Seamus snorted. “After they took us to our rooms, like, they asked if we wanted ‘body slaves’, or to pick a personal chef. Or…shite I don’t even remember, what else did they say Johnny wasn’t there something like....”
“This palace is a horror show and these people are terrified,” Mason said, silencing the room. He knew then it wasn’t just dealing with people or being hungry that was making him angry. It was the brutal reality of a tyrant’s mess. He took a deep breath.
“Be nice to them. We’ve won and now they need to see things are gonna change. They’re used to abuse. People like us doing whatever we want. They’ve protected themselves by keeping monsters happy or getting out of the way.”
He took a pause and opened his profile as his people sobered and sat down.
“I have positions to assign, then we’re going in there where I have to make some shitty speech about us being nice. We need to tell them food is coming but I don’t have a clue how to distribute it. I want to cancel the martial law but I don’t know when it’ll feel safe.” He spread out his hands and sat. "I’m open to suggestions.”
After a few deep breaths and a more engaged look from the people around the table, suggestions began. After a lengthy discussion, it became clear there were basically three camps.
‘Camp Military’ (led by Phuong and Chinua) wanted total military crackdown for the foreseeable future. Limited civilian presence, closed teleporters, and no trust in easterners until everything was completely sorted. The players would hand out food in a kind of bread line.
‘Camp Civilian’ wanted a two tier system—freedom for civilians, tight control of players. They wanted a ‘free market’ and for all food and whatever else that was needed to be left for them to sort out with the system economy.
Then there was ‘Camp Fuck It’. Half the players, including Becky, and some of the civilians, really didn’t see why they should do much of anything. ‘Let 'em sort their own problems’ we got better shit to do' Becky said on repeat in some variation. These people wanted to just pull out and go home, allowing teleportation on a case by case basis, with maybe one person left in the holy city to be in charge. Nassau would give enough food to ‘keep the idiots from starving’.
Mason honestly saw the pros and cons with all three. A few months earlier and he would have been solidly in Camp Fuck It. But these people hadn’t asked him to come and kill Jeong. And he hadn’t done it to kill a rival. Or even to free the city.
“You’re all forgetting why we’re here,” he said eventually, silencing the discussion. “We need their help. Every player ready to fight. Every civilian making us the tools and weapons we’ll need. Because a giant army of demons is coming to kill us all, and they don’t give a shit who we are or where we live.”
It made a few thoughtful faces, maybe a little contrition. Mason didn’t blame any of them for how they felt, and the suggestions weren’t foolish. But the only goal was enough strength to survive.
“You’re right, Patron.” Phuong nodded in his direction after the pause. “We understand we have several months. Maybe first we should decide how best to use it, and go from there. Tell us what you’re thinking.”
Mason did, though he didn’t have some grand plan on how to explain himself. They needed power, plain and simple. Enough to stop a god and his army.
When he’d finished talking he produced another silence that went on a lot longer as everyone took it in.
“Jesus, kid,” Carl said, taking a breath. “No offence, but you kinda sound like Blake."
Did he? Maybe so. But being a prick didn’t make you wrong. Mason had always known his brother saw far ahead of everyone else, even if he didn’t always know how to get there, or what to do when he arrived.
“Well, that’s my plan,” he said. “And unless there’s questions, it’s time to go give the news to our new friends.”
When no one said anything, he nodded and gestured for Haley to get the others. He had more to say, but he only wanted to make the speech once.
**
“The world ends next phase,” Mason said when the easterners had taken seats around the table with his people. They were mostly civilians, but Erik the Swede had come with a few other players. They all looked around, maybe waiting for the punchline.
“With respect, how do you know this?” Erik asked.
A few of Mason’s people looked curious, too. He supposed he’d never really explained it fully. They hadn’t all heard or seen the things he had. He let out a breath, aware how utterly ridiculous he was about to sound.
“Druid dreams. Maker halls. Talking to gods and demon lords. And an explanation from an elf seer who’s several hundred years old.” When they all just stared he took another breath. “I expect you’ve heard of ‘the doom’, in our alien overlord’s world-building.”
Erik and a few of his wizard friends nodded.
“Well it wasn’t some Maker accident or weather event. It was a god invading this plane, this world, trying to destroy it. A war between gods that was somehow stopped. But they made an arrangement. The ‘destroyer’ gets to try again, and now it’s our turn to stop him. That’s the whole point, the end of the game—to see if we can stop the doom.”
A few muttering voices sounded around the room. Erik looked thoughtful, turning to listen to one of his people whisper something in his ear.
“You said you’ve spoken to gods,” he said. “Which ones?”
“Only nature affinity gods. Cerebus. Gaia. A ‘Queen Mav’ for a minute or two.”
This raised a few eyebrows, though not from the Swede.
“And could they not…lie? Manipulate you to get what they want?”
“It’s possible.” Mason shrugged. “But everything I’ve seen or heard backs them up. The demons I destroyed said as much. That their master was coming. That the world would be destroyed. The elven seer called him Yalor. Some kind of god of death and chaos. Ring a bell?”
The wizards frowned or shook their heads.
“Jeong served a god of death,” Erik said, “he but called him The Eternal, or The Endless. We have no knowledge of a ‘Yalor’.”
They all looked thoughtful again, but at least like they believed him to be honest. If not necessarily right. Erik eventually shrugged and met his eyes.
“Let’s assume you are correct. What do you suggest we do?”
Good enough, Mason decided. It was time for his full speech. The second half of the message hadn’t gone down very well with his own people. Time to see how it went with the Easterners.
“First, we secure the city. Then we take that Nexus you should have claimed a month ago. I can do it with my people, but I’m open to half the team being your best. I assume you know more about it than I do. Information would be useful.”
Erik looked surprised, and pleased. He explained they knew quite a lot about the Nexus. That it was a test designed by the ‘Divine’ gods—which made sense considering the last Nexus had been Nephus, some divine god of life.
Mason explained how the last Nexus went, what they experienced—about Nephus and the ‘time’ jumping, the dracolich, the rewards. That last part got a little excitement going, at least.
“We don’t know the god associated with this Nexus,” Erik explained, “but he is no god of life. His domain seems to be…” here the man winced, “justice, and punishment. I suspect it was one of the reasons Jeong feared it. He was afraid of being judged and rejected.”
Saying this out loud sent a kind of animal panic through the easterners before they seemed to remember Jeong was dead.
Mason nodded, letting that settle in his brain. He looked at Alex—the only ‘divine’ affinity he knew about. The man had also gained his prestige class in the Nexus event. It was possible he knew as much as anyone.
“Any chance you know about this god, Alex? The nature gods know each other, and get along, sort of. Maybe this guy’s Nephus’ estranged brother, or something?”
The Belarusian glanced around the room with his perpetual half-scowl before meeting Mason’s eyes.
“There is only one. God of ‘divinity’. Has more than one form, maybe. Not different.”
Erik and his wizards looked like they’d discovered some new and perfect puzzle piece, whispering again before the Swede turned back.
“This matches some of our data. He’s often described like light refracting through a prism. The same light with different aspects fits.”
“Great.” Mason sighed. “Not sure how it helps us. But I think we’re smart to take Alex. If we take you and maybe one of your people. That’s four. You should tell me who you’re thinking so we can balance, there’s space for two more and I’d prefer…”
“Only one!” said the familiar voice of Mason’s brother as the board room door flew open.
Blake walked inside with a grin, and what looked like his orcs, goblins, and constructs waiting outside. Haley leaned over his shoulder to mouth ‘sorry’ with a shrug. Blake walked up and slapped a hand on Mason’s shoulder.
“I come back to you now at the turn of the tide.” He waited for a laugh, as if this were some hilarious joke. “Erik. Carl. Everyone.” He flashed his annoyingly perfect, white smile. “I’d say it’s long past due for the Nimitz brothers to conquer another dungeon together, wouldn’t you?”