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The Beta-Testers Chapter 6: Meeting of the Guilds By Draconicon

He was used to using a two-handed sword for a weapon, but when that didn't work, he'd been forced to improvise. Still...improvising by using a dead man's leg was further than Rumiir had expected to go, but it had worked.

"First thing...when I get back...Get a fucking mace..."

Tossing the leg down on the ground, the dragon retreated from the portal. It burned through every color he could imagine, and it felt like fire dancing across his wings as he limped back over the hills towards Dalia. The city beckoned to him like a safe haven like it never had before. Bandits, thugs, crooks, monsters; he'd take anything that wanted to try pulling him into a shadowy alley if he didn't have to face another one of those...things.

The blue and white dragon gritted his teeth as he remembered them. Oily and wet as they burst from the portal, rising out of the ground, out of the rocks, out of any crack that they could find. It was impossible to tell where they'd come from next, and they were too quiet to track. Randolph, a jackal from his guild, had been one of the first to fall. They'd gotten behind him and swallowed him up, and the sight of his health bar falling had been more terrifying than Rumiir wanted to admit. Even his best attacks wouldn't have dropped it that fast...

He grunted as his leg almost came out from under him, forcing him to stop at the top of the hill to catch his breath. Panting softly, he looked at the wound.

It wasn't much. It shouldn't even be a thing, with such a light scratch. Yet, at the same time, he could feel something going on down there, a burning along his leg that was more than a simple wound.

Fuck it...

He opened up his character sheet, something he hadn't had time for on the field, and flicked through it. There had to be some menu for the status effects he was under. These things always had something...

Down, down, down the page he went, until he got to the little icons. Buffs from his equipment, a couple of spells from a cleric that hadn't worn off yet, and -

"The hell?"

The icon was a long blue tail, sticking out of a white background, and as he read the label, he was surprised to see 'Feral Blooded' for the name. It had almost identical stat boosters to the 'Dragon Blood' one that he used to have, but...

He went back up the page, looking for any other changes. His constitution was definitely higher - not an unwelcome change - but other than that, it looked pretty normal. He was about to close out when he saw the character class, and growled.

"What the hell is this crap? I'm a fighter, not a feral warrior."

I swear, something's broken. I need to talk to an admin or something.

But that'd wait until he was back in the city. Something was wrong here. The portal mission was way, way, WAY beyond his levels, or anyone else that had come along. They needed to find out what was going on, and fast, and if he had some other witnesses to the event, like, say, Randolph...

Well, the jackal better be ready to have a meeting with the admins, that's all he had in mind.

He got back up, rubbing his leg as he made his way towards the gate, pulling his loincloth back in place as he walked. The guards let him through, and he started walking towards the guildhouses in the center of the city. His leg slowly started to feel better on the way, but the little bonus didn't fade, and he couldn't quite push it out of his mind.

The street with all the guildhouses was...quiet. Incredibly quiet, for that matter, and Rumiir didn't like it as he walked across the street. His hand went back to the sword on his back, fingers wrapping around the hilt as nobody came out to greet him. By now, Randolph should have respawned, and at the very least, some other players should have come around. They were always asking about quests, or other leads towards loot...

Something's wrong. It had been a while since he felt like this. A very long while, since he was last actually deployed somewhere...but the feeling was the same. Something was out there, waiting to see him dead.

Pulling his sword free, the dragon walked up to the guildhouse that he called home. The sigils of twin dragons looked down at him from above, and he put his hand on the doorknob. Nothing, yet. He pressed his ear to the door, and listened. At first, nothing, then -

"GET IT! KILL IT!"

That was a call to action, if he ever heard one. Rumiir wrenched the door open and threw himself inside in one smooth motion. He had his sword up -

And immediately dropped it. The creatures...they were here too?!

Three of the other players in the house were swarmed by them already, their lower bodies covered by the inky silhouettes. Rumiir wrote off the lion and the two dobermen on the ground, knowing that there was no way to get to them now, but there were still others. Fred - the guild leader - wasn't anywhere in sight, and Randolph -

CRASH!

He leaped back as glass and metal splinters went flying everywhere as a chandelier hit the ground, hitting a good number of the silhouettes at once. Their inky-black bodies went splattering everywhere, going into puddles in the corner of the room as Rumiir looked up.

"Heh, take that, you bastards..."

"Nice to see you too, Randolph."

"Rumiir! Coming down!"

The dragon caught his jackal comrade as the archer leaped from the second floor. No sooner had he set the canine down, though, than the parts started sliding around. He shook his head.

"I don't think you killed them..."

"I wasn't trying to. I was just trying to get some space."

"Where's Fred?"

"Down in the basement, last I heard."

"Not a lot of chance he's still alive, then."

With the silhouettes either occupied with other people, or putting themselves back together, the dragon walked to the middle of the room. He grabbed hold of the chandelier main body, and pulled. It took him two tries, but the top stalk that came down to a join in the center broke free. Gold and soft, but heavy and blunt; just what he needed.

He spun and swung, hitting the silhouette behind him in the head. It swirled around it, almost like ink, but the damn thing was solid enough to get knocked off its feet. Shaking his head, he waved for the jackal to follow him.

No man left behind...

Leaping over the wreckage of the common room, they ran towards the far side and the door that was a different color from the rest. He'd been told when they'd arrived that it was keyed specifically to their guild, that only people in the group could enter.

He didn't know if that was true or not, but it opened easily for him, and they ran down the stairs. What they found...was not good.

Fred - a phoenix - was straddling the very top of a portal. The same four-pronged design as he'd seen outside, it flared with the same light, and let loose the same silhouettes from its walls. He growled under his breath, squeezing his makeshift weapon all the harder. Randolph leaned around him and hissed.

"I don't think we can do much here..."

"Yeah, well, I'm trying."

His eyes were flicking around the room, taking in the basement level. Someone had done a weird but fortunate design. The main floor was reached by a ladder rather than a staircase, or the creatures would already be up here. The ladder had to be at least twelve feet, but that wasn't too bad; he could leap and take the hit, if he had to.

The problem was the fact that the downstairs lab was just about ready to blow. Chemicals from alchemy kits were mixing, and there had to be at least three fires going already, maybe more he couldn't see. So much smoke...

"Fred! Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can. What are these things?"

"Was hoping you'd have a clue."

"Yeah, well, no idea here. Get me out of here!"

"Working on it, sir."

He flicked his eyes around. Phoenix. That probably had a fire immunity, but could he make it through all the chemical spills? Possibly. Him, though...

"Randolph, get upstairs and see if you can find some of the other guilds to help. I'm going in."

"Your funeral, man."

As he heard the jackal beat feet behind him, he ran to the railing between him and the ladder. With a last suck of air, he held his breath and jumped. It was a short fall, and the table under him barely lasted a second before cracking under his weight.

Rumiir was already running, though, kicking at some of the chemical vials and sending them flying towards the silhouettes on the far side of the room. He was running through every ability he had in his head, thinking of what he could use. Almost all of them revolved around his weapon, but there were others.

Adrenaline Rush for speed. Drake-skin for armor. Buff, buff...need something else. What - roar. Yes. That.

He was already in mid-leap towards the main group when he flared his wings and let out his roar. The dragon-specific ability was just what he needed. It hit them hard with a fear effect, and the crowd leaned back, falling towards the portal.

What were left broke apart quickly as he spun in place, swinging his makeshift mace against their heads. They went flying backwards, clearing a space for the phoenix. He turned, making a gesture towards the guild leader -

But it was too late. One of the silhouettes - one that had been out of sight due to the smoke - had climbed up one of the sides of the portal. It had grabbed the phoenix by the leg, and had a tight hold already. Rumiir winced.

"Sorry, sir."

"Get me out of this!"

"It's too late. If one gets you, it won't come off. I'm sorry."

"Rumiir! Get it o - AGH!"

The silhouette threw the bird down, still clinging to his leg. The others swarmed over him, covering him in a puddle of black, which started to swirl with colors. Red and green and black flickered over it, almost looking like...like some sort of shape, but the dragon didn't have time to examine it.

Already, the creatures were pulling themselves together, the silhouettes back to normal. Their health bars crackled and flickered, but there was no telling how much damage they'd taken, if they'd taken any at all. Rumiir backed up, swinging his mace side to side to keep them back, even as he felt the portal getting closer and closer. He stepped between two of the arched prongs...

And he saw something.

It was barely there, flickering, something that couldn't be real, but...

This...how?

His jaw dropped for a moment as he stared at it. If this was possible...

"Hey! Hit the deck, blue boy!"

The shout cut through his shock, and he hit the ground hard. As soon as he did, a fireball went shooting overhead, followed by a trio of lightning bolts. The silhouettes in his way splattered apart, breaking down...all but one.

Two of them looked like they'd merged, looking like a copy of one of the other guild members. Someone...he didn't know, but a decent fighter. A pair of swords were pulled out of the silhouette's body, dark and shimmering in the same way that everything about them was.

He pulled his mace up and leaped into combat.

Clang clang, clack. It was so strange to hear his weapon make noise and his opponent's be silent. In and out he darted, either blocking the quickly dancing blades or swinging up and around for a basic hit. The creature showed no desire to block him; if anything, it almost seemed to invite him closer, almost like -

He darted back at the last second, barely avoiding getting pulled in as it split apart into a bunch of tendrils. He heard the clank of someone else, someone armored hitting the floor on the other side of the room, but he didn't dare take his eyes off of his opponent. The tendrils swirled and swam around him, but in a pattern. Following - there!

Rumiir swung inwards, his wings shoving him to the side around the tendrils at the last second as he brought his mace down. It caved through the head of the silhouette, and sent it right into the ground, making it a puddle.

He panted, having to lean on the mace as he looked up. A lioness in gold armor, gold and red...kind of cheap looking. He started to lift his hand, to say he didn't need help -

"GET DOWN!"

And realized she was swinging her mace at something behind him. He pushed his weapon off to the side, falling to the ground, just as she swung her mace over his head. A wet splatter of a silhouette getting put down was all he heard, and he realized that the portal must have been spewing out even more.

The lioness helped him to his feet, and they ran towards the ladder. She started climbing as he flew himself up to the top, and they ran. When they reached the top, he saw a good four dozen waiting, holding off the silhouettes that were barely equalling their number. Barely holding them off, too.

He looked over his shoulder, seeing at least as many again coming up from down below. They crawled over the walls, slinking in the cracks in the stone. They'd be spreading through the entire guildhouse in minutes. He looked at the lioness.

"Do you have fire?"

"I can get it."

"We burn this place, and run."

"Heh, I like your thinking."

He slammed the door shut, and grabbed one of the ruined tables. It wasn't much, but it might slow them down. As he rammed it up against the door, he heard someone shouting orders, calling for everyone to make a running retreat. It was the best damn order that he'd heard all day.

As he shoved the debris under the door handle, the door rattled in its frame. He grunted, forcing the debris back, adding more. It wouldn't hold long, but it just had to hold long enough.

"Alright, stand back...here we go!"

Fire, then. He pulled back as the lioness held her hands towards the sky. Some sort of cleric, then; it would explain the armor. She muttered something, and oddly, he saw her face break out in a sweat, like she was fighting something. He cocked his head to the side as her cheeks burned under her fur, and was about to ask -

FWOOOOSH!

She threw her hands forward, and the wooden floor caught fire. She slumped against the wall, panting, and he didn't ask why. He just grabbed her, and ran.

They were barely out the door when the windows along the bottom floor exploded outwards, he hoped from the heat. He didn't look back, just kept running...and hoped that this was just some freaky mission.

It wasn't some freaky mission.

"So, let me get this straight...this is a bug?"

Rumiir looked around the table, hoping that someone would tell him that he was wrong, that this was something less mundane and more...fantastic. It was too horrible for something so normal, particularly considering what he'd seen.

Nobody answered him. Not one person, not the lioness that had run in and helped him out, not the guild leader lion whose house they were in, not even the admin at the end of the table. Nobody had any answers for him.

"Is it a bug, or isn't it? It's not that hard a question."

"It is...a sort of bug, I suppose. The term is closer to what I'd like than the alternative."

He arched an eyeridge at the snow leopard.

"And what do you think the alternative is?"

"That the game is broken."

"We've all played broken games before."

"Perhaps. But have you ever been in them when they're in the process of breaking?"

It took a couple of heartbeats for the shivers to make the rounds around the table, but Rumiir wasn't spared from it. Games were usually very reliable, but usually, a broken game was nothing more than an annoyance. A waste of money. Something that he would regret, but not be that bothered about.

Being in the game as it broke, on the other hand...

"Are we going to be okay? So far, we seem to be respawning, but -"

"That, I cannot say."

The lioness leaped up before Rumiir could say anything. He leaned back from the table, mostly to avoid the flames that were coming off of her head. That wasn't something he remembered as a class feature.

"Are you kidding me? Mr. Lee -"

"Thank you for remembering to address me properly, Sarah."

"Mr. Lee, fucker, how do we get out of this? If the game's breaking, we need to get out. Now."

"There is no need to abandon the project just yet."

"No need?"

He turned to look at the skunk at the other end of the table. He'd been quiet for a while, Rumiir remembered, but the sorcerer seemed willing to speak now. The skunk leaned back, folding his hands over his lap and looking down at them.

"Look...I'm not a gamer, for the most part. I've been playing tabletops only, and just wanted to try this out...but I know how this stuff goes. It's in every story there's ever been about virtual reality, or cyberpunk, or anything else in that kind of sci-fi sub-genre...When the game goes crazy, people start going missing, or dying, or something. Why haven't you pulled us out yet?"

"...I see someone snuck past the genre-savvy part of the quiz we sent out."

"It was marked optional."

"You weren't supposed to see that."

The snow leopard shook his head.

"In all honesty...we can't."

Rumiir blinked.

"What do you mean...you can't? You are an admin, aren't you? Doesn't that mean that you're hooked up to the outside world?"

"I was, up until this morning. When the portals opened, I received a message from corporate, telling me to keep running the game. It wasn't from the usual address, admittedly, but it had the right encryption and encoding. However, since then, there have been no responses. I seem to have been cut off...and without that, the only thing I am is a player with my level set to +15 any of yours.

"I can't pull you out, and I doubt that Mr. Grant can, either. I haven't heard from him since this afternoon, and he never ignores his messages."

The table erupted in a whole stream of yelling, most of it directed at the snow leopard, while others were yelling at each other. Some were yelling at the skunk, as well, shouting at him about having hit the portal with a bolt of lightning or something.

Rumiir ignored it, thinking about the implications.

My superiors meant to give me a message, tell me where the dead drop is for information. That won't be happening now. It occurred to him, briefly, that his employers might have been the one to mess with the game, but that seemed unlikely. The military didn't want to trash the game, just see what it's possibilities were. Nor were they the sort to put people in this level of danger...usually.

Which meant that the thing he'd seen in the portal was much more troubling. If he'd seen it at all. He needed a better look, but there was no way that he was getting that on his own.

He needed help.

"Mr. Lee."

He kept his voice level, but loud, like on the training grounds. It cut through the yelling quickly, and everyone looked back at him.

"Mr. Lee. What are the portals? Do you know?"

"I'm afraid I don't. We have an...informant...that suggests that they are holes in the world, but that's as far as we've been able to investigate so far."

"Has anyone else gotten close enough to the portals to see them? Properly?"

"None as close as you, blue."

He nodded at the lioness.

"Then...we need to get to the one in the basement again. I saw...something."

"What?"

"...I think I saw the game code. And I saw it re-writing itself."

The entire room went quiet, looking at one another, and then at him. Mr. Lee was the first to speak up.

"Are you sure?"

"It was a black void, with green lines that were changing every few seconds. I saw the values for the first part of my character in the code, as well; I'm pretty sure."

"Not good...very, very not good...If you're right."

Rumiir shrugged, even as the lioness - Sarah - stepped forward.

"Well, all these guildhouses are built just about the same, from the looks of it...I say that we start getting some practice in, and get a plan of attack ready for morning. That fire's not gonna stop before then...I can tell."

"Really? That seems...unusual, for a spellcaster."

"Well, blue, let's just say I have a whole new appreciation for heat right now."

The dragon cocked his head to the side. It was true, she was blushing and looking rather...warm. Was there something happening with her connection to the magic? Or was it something else? The game was changing, after all, so -

She turned away from him before he could stare and question anymore, and muttered something about going to get a map. As she stomped out of the room, another lion - the one that owned the guildhouse - patted the dragon on the shoulder.

"Don't take it personally. She's got a bit of a problem right now. Whenever she uses magic, she's calling on her 'inner fire'."

"Inner -"

He blinked, looking back the way she'd gone, and smiled.

"Excuse me a minute."

The arguments and ideas were flowing loud and fast enough that he doubted anyone would miss him, and he was right. He was out of the common room and towards the back of the library - where he was starting to smell Sarah's scent - before anyone could stop him. The dragon stopped at the edge of the aisle of books, and slowly looked around it.

He'd been right. There she was, her hand jammed down the front of her armor, frantically fingering herself. Rumiir smiled, feeling his cock starting to harden beneath its loincloth. He took a step -

"You...take another....step...and you're respawning..."

He paused. So, she was still aware, despite her heat. He chuckled.

"I didn't realize that you were going into heat, using your magic. It seems a rather...problematic buff."

"More of a...fuck...de-buff than anything..."

"I imagine you would like to think clearly again."

"Yeah, I do...and I will when you shut up and let me finish instead of yapping."

"I could help you out."

He smirked, squeezing at the base of his cock. When she didn't say anything, he took a step into the aisle...and then another...

He was beside her before she moved again. He held up his hand to block any slaps - he was used to that sort of thing - but she didn't do that. Instead, she reached a little higher -

BONG!

He hit the ground, his head pinned under something big and heavy. Her juices continued to dribble past her armor, landing on the very edge of his snout, and leaving him stuck and turned on at the same time.

"What...the...hell?"

"Tome of Dragon Binding...heaviest fucking thing I could find..."

"You...are...evil."

"So are you. Now...you wanna help me out..."

He looked up as she squatted down in front of him. Her legs spread just enough for him to see past the armored 'skirt' that stuck out around her thighs, and he saw that the armor didn't go up much further than that. It certainly made it easier to see her intimate parts.

"Show me what you can do with your tongue...and maybe, just maybe...I'll let you do a little more."

Well...I've had worse deals.

Besides, he needed her to be focused and in a good mood for tomorrow. If the game code was re-writing itself, and it was visible, that meant it was open. And if it was open...well...who said he couldn't tweak a few things himself before it was closed again?

The End