NOVEL NEXT Chapter 131: Staging
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Harry: We're all actors. . .except that asshole, he's the real deal.
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Friday, November 29th, 2090, about 6:00 am MST, Ghostlands
After the Fast Draw stunt, Gordon had decided he was going to hold the keep against all comers. It was a terrible idea. But it was the only thing he could think of to one-up what he'd already done.
Besides, Claire loved the idea.
So he had already reentered the castle. It had been much harder the second time with nobles and their retinues having formed siege walls around it. Gordon had entered on easy mode before: scaled the walls like an acrobat, left all the sleeping ghouls untouched. The matron had afforded him easy entry—her horde had literally stood aside to let him pass.
He suspected that had been because the numbers weren't fair. In her twisted way, the matron had wanted to offer a fair challenge.
He fingered his pistols. The altar had once been a ritual site. Now that her markings were removed, it functioned as an enchanting station.
Enchanting was normally something Wizards did. Gordon wasn't sure of the specifics, but these stations were different. Each one held a premade enchantment that could be applied as many times as you had items—if you were at that specific station. They were in hotly contested zones.
And Gordon had been streaming. Everyone knew where this one was.
Which was why people were coming—from far and near. But Gordon hadn't known for sure what the enchantment did.
Turned out? It was share.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Bottomless ammunition. Well, more accurately it just linked various containers to one another. But the end result? Bottomless ammunition.
It couldn't be applied to a weapon, but once applied to a belt satchel—Gordon's problem of running out of ammo while standing off an army became moot.
It would just be him against the world.
And his teammates, of course.
It was a great idea.
It was a stupid idea.
Karen loved it.
"Why didn't you TELL me?" she demanded over the chat, her in Wutaar meeting up with the group, him in the keep, doing math and not telling her the results.
"A lot of personal stuff was going on," Gordon said, keeping it vague for the stream. "I thought this up while Claire was cooking the other night—before she told me about. . . the thing."
"Be more vague," someone in chat complained. "There's a possibility someone, somewhere knows what you're talking about."
"Thanks extremely," Gordon replied. "I can always count on you to remind me even more acutely that people are listening in to every word I say."
"And we're excited," said Randoon_the_Wizard. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever seen someone try. And I mean that as a compliment."
Gordon nodded cheerfully. "That's what I like to hear."
Sneaking in had been good enough for Gordon. But getting the other four—including Marie's reappeared avatar—inside would be the real challenge. The nobles seemed primarily interested in keeping everyone else out until the ghoul numbers dropped low enough for someone to breach the keep and hold it against all comers.
The squabbling was real. Gordon was sure it wouldn't take long for someone to realize that one of the biggest streamers was already inside—and doing exactly that.
He wasted no time. He took off his belt satchel and placed it on the Altar of Opportunity. The invocation had no names, just three symbols. You were supposed to successfully invoke all three gods in order to use the altar.
Gordon did.
"Striving surpasses satisfaction—to seize opportunity."
Hokey game-developer theology, he thought. Still, it was better than the altar being dedicated to dogs or something. At least he could get behind the idea of earning your rewards.
Gordon had never really liked dogs. Too much anus-to-tongue-to-owner's-hand germ transfer for his taste.