C+7

  Your Rage increased by 1.

  Flor woke in a rage. The rest of the team would be arriving from across the land in a couple of hours, and at this point the thought of laying back down was frustrating. She was sure that this rage reduction with Amets was worthless, but she didn’t even have a chance to do so today due to the stupid timeline Alastair and Maelstrom had provided. Maybe she could do it after they got the upgraded gear from the Mayor’s Manor. Now, though, she felt like she wanted to hit something, and considered going on a solo run of the carillon. She figured she could probably clear floor four with barely a scratch. She considered stopping after floor three or if she ever had more than two points of lost health.

  She checked her notifications and saw there was one in the box.

  Fausta - World: For the notification of all players on Test Server 8, any player willing to remain in the game after clearing the Bacton Keep and progressing to a New Game+ will earn $500 (USD or equivalent) per game day (capped at $2500 per player or until the player starting in the tower is freed).

  Huh! I guess there is a monetary price to free a player from the game. In her current mood, Flor wasn’t certain she would accept the new game plus. Not that an extra couple thousand dollars wouldn’t be appreciated, but she and Alastair didn’t need it.

  Flor also considered that there was a whole lot missing from that announcement, such as an apology for this miserable experience or any culpability for the way this playtest was run, to name a couple.

  “Now I really want to hit something.”

  Flor was riding in a hansom to the Keep. Sparks was next to her, seemingly asleep. They were both fully equipped with level three brawler gear, although Flor had decided to stay with the level two spiked gloves since they had an inherent first-strike capability that she was used to. {Which would allow her, in any combat situation, to deal damage first in the combat. So, say she and a Programmatic Power Porcupine Plumber were brawling, and both she and the porcupine had one health left, and they both selected an all-out attack, the first strike would allow Flor to hit first, killing the porcupine and not taking damage.} Sparks had a warhammer, which was one damage higher than the spiked gloves and gave a chance to stun, but it seemed like a one-in-twenty chance, so Flor didn’t think the trade-off was worthwhile. They both had plated leather chest armor and a closed helm, for a whopping +12 to block, although Sparks also had a shield which gave her an extra +4 to block.

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  Now that she considered it in depth, she wasn’t so sure that the gloves were the better option. But it felt strange to think about reclassing her weapon on the morning before the final assault.

  The Mayor had accommodated the party well, although he wasn’t present to present the writ that allowed the team to raid the barrack’s armory. They still had to use the additional line of credit at the armorer to get Alastair’s Scribe cloak and Iron Staff from the weaponier.

  Afterward, they had gone about getting the situation right for the raid. Irving and his two thug buddies, dressed in servants’ clothes, walked at the back of the procession, which included the Lord Mayor, his wife, and his brother, plus an expanded complement of eight guards. The Mayor’s Captain had quaffed at the request, thinking that it would screw up his watch rotation, but reassurance from the Mayor had been enough for the additional guards to come along. The Mayor glanced at Maelstrom before confirming the assurance, so maybe she did have some clout with him. Three of the guards rode in the closed wagon rather than on horseback. Alastair had said something about it being an element of surprise that might be beneficial, even at the cost of the seconds it would take to exit the wagon in hefty armor.

  Lord Lazare Francesc rode easily on a horse next to the wagon. He had deemed it gentlemanly to offer the hansom to Flor but didn’t get flustered when she asked if Sparks could ride along as well.

  Alastair, decked out in Scribe Three gear, had left shortly after the gear upgrade with Sparks and Galoots to trek up to the bay and join the raid from the Privateers’ side. As Alastair had described it last night, when they all met up again after a final trip up the carillon, this was to be a “prosecution offensive, or total war. Just don’t go Leroy Jenkins on us. And no war crimes.”

  Ideally, there would be a much larger complement of sailors assaulting the keep. They would work their way from bottom to top, restraining everyone they could and killing the rest. The Procession would go two-pronged, with the guards hidden in the wagon assaulting those who would otherwise be expecting children for necromantic experiments. And then the Lord brothers and Lady Rosa with Flor and Sparks feign that they had been drugged to act as an extra surprise element. Technically, Alastair had argued to Lord Oliver, that it would be better if Lady Rosa didn’t know and actually was drugged, as there seemed to be no lasting effects and Lady Rosa didn’t seem to be a fighter. In a sense, she would be the cue the rest of them would use to act alike. Flor wasn’t sure, but the Lord Mayor had not seemed offended, and maybe even cherished the idea of his Lady being drugged.

  And thus they traveled, ready to assault the keep and die as needed, to purge the land of a horrible necromancer that was likely only a red herring for a secondary villain.

  If nothing else, the anticipation was the worst part. Flor shut her eyes since she didn’t know what else to do.