“Sleeping in NEMO takes some getting used to. Dreams occur more often and in a more vivid nature than with unassisted sleep. The NEMO interface technology lets the human body push past stage 1 and 2 sleep quickly and enter deep sleep. This is followed by a longer stretch inside REM sleep leading to increased dreaming. We speculate that the system interacts with the brain of individual players and performs system housekeeping during that final sleep phase.”

  Excerpt from “Virtual Reality, Real Sleep” by Dr. Manfred Sanderson

  Year 1, Month 1, Day 6, 18:00

  The rest of the leadership team showed the same exhaustion as Torgon when they made it back from their successful dungeon expedition. They queued up the construction for the Training yard, the two ballista towers, the trebuchet tower, the catapult tower and the gatehouse. Their time in game caught up to them and their bleary-eyed faces and slowly moving bodies cried out for real sleep.

  Torgon stumbled wearily into his spartan home. A warm smile lit his face when he noticed a soft looking rabbit pelt blanket laid atop his simple bed. A wolf pelt base, a goose down pillow and a lovingly crafted rabbit pelt blanket to top it off. It wasn’t fancy, but it was all made possible through the hard work of the guild he led. He curled up under the furs and drifted into a fitful sleep.

  Torgon’s sleep was filled with stressful dreams. His mind revisited his past problems and failures in games. The collapse of his last guild after his car accident haunted him the most. He felt that he let everyone down with his lengthy absence and his inability to keep playing at a high level on his return. Without his efforts, the guild withered away in the face of the constant oppression of the corporate backed groups. They had been holding their own and thriving, but in a few short weeks it was over.

  His mind showed images of Risk of Injury, all the children so happy, then their faces turning to disappointment and sadness. The thriving guild base became empty and overgrown with weeds with no one there to care for it. This wasn’t the future he wanted.

  Torgon woke slowly, blinking away the haunting dreams. His skin felt clammy, and his head ached. He experimentally tried a healing spell and delighted in discovering that the magic treated his symptoms leaving him refreshed. He thought over the nightmares and what they represented. Intellectually, he knew that it wasn’t his fault. The accident wasn’t something he could control, but he vowed to himself that this guild would be stronger. The burden of leadership and command would be distributed so that if one of the leaders went down it wouldn’t collapse the entire guild. They owed it to the kids that were stuck here with them for virtual decades to not just perform their best, but to keep growing and becoming better.

  The sun slowly crested the horizon, and the guild base stirred into activity again. The training yard and the defensive towers finished building and dozens gathered around to see how they worked. People streamed towards the broad expanse of the training grounds. A stretch of earth nearly 50 yards wide and more than 100 yards long lay open, sectioned out for people to improve their combat skills. Training dummies stood along the side for melee combat with ranged targets at one the far end of the field. Dueling areas for one on one and larger combats were marked out by wooden posts and ropes.

  Children eagerly rushed into the combat areas and started fighting each other. Their play was rough and violent and entirely too much fun. They grew more enthusiastic when they discovered that you earned experience while fighting. It wasn’t nearly as quickly as you would earn it in real combat but free xp while training was a bonus that no one would turn down. Hyperia started organizing training rotations to prepare for the base siege that would happen the next day.

  Torgon headed to side of the guild keep and climbed the steps to the defensive towers. He took mental notes of the firing platforms for archers, crossbowmen and spellcasters to engage at targets with a commanding view of the battlefield. Each tower contained a control throne where a person could manually direct the fire of the weapons instead of relying on its autotargeting. Flexible control in a big fight would serve as a key advantage when priority targets were on the field he thought. He walked the perimeter of the keep, focusing on each position and mentally calculating how many people they could safely stack. At least 250 could man the walls and engage targets as they came in. Larger areas inside the towers could contain more people waiting to emerge as needed. Between the permanent residents and the new guild members, their numbers would suffice to fill it and leave more people free in the areas below the walls in case the enemy breached them or they crept past the people manning them.

  Torgon met with Mark X to go over plans for the siege. “Mark, how many of the mantlets have you managed to build?”

  Mark scratched his head, “I’ve gotten a dozen made so far, they take up 10 inventory slots each, so we have them sitting in the guild vault. They’re for attackers in a siege though, what are you thinking of Torg?”

  Torgon shrugged. “We have maybe 600 defenders and each wave will have 800 attackers. We can fit 250, maybe 300 on the walls, but we don’t know the interval between waves and if it’s short, they could stack up fast. Pressure on the walls could build and possibly overrun them. I was thinking we could set the mantlets up in the area across from the gate and just raise the gate to try and funnel monsters into a kill zone. The gate has its own defenses and we could stick extra people behind those mantlets to pepper them with arrows while melee fighters pin them in place.”

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  “It could work. Raising a gate during a siege is audacious though. I mean the whole point is to keep them out and not let them in.” Mark chuckled.

  “We haven’t fought any sieges here so it’s a work in progress.” Torgon remarked. They wandered over by the training yard and observed the activity. Ovarrix was talking to Dirk and others from the newly joined members. He used a large practice field to explain formations and movements to them for the upcoming battle. Allestor stood in a smaller field fighting three children by himself. The bout was filled with lots of laughter, but it was clear that the kids were being taught how to work together to take on a bigger and stronger opponent. Hyperia and Dusty compared notes on the number and types of ranged weapons available. Torgon winced a little thinking of the extra work he was likely going to have to put in on the weapons that night when suddenly an arrow hit him, knocking out his shield and inflicting a minor amount of damage.

  He jerked his head towards the archery range to find a half dozen kids staring at a very sheepish Steve. Torgon groaned and made his way over to the range. “Steve. Did you just shoot me?”

  “Maybe. I didn’t mean to.” Steve hung his head and answered.

  “I know you didn’t mean to Steve. You’re the worst archer I’ve ever seen no matter how much you practice. If you had aimed at me, I would have been perfectly safe. Hand me the bow.” Torgon stretched out his hand to Steve.

  “I can get better Torg. I’m learning. I can feel it. Let me practice more.” Steve pleaded with Torgon to keep the bow.

  A little girl standing next to Steve tugged on his tunic. “Mr. Steve. I’ve only had arms for about a week now and I’m already a way better shot than you are. Maybe you’re meant for something else?”

  Steve grunted, “Fine. Take the bow. I’ll go back to the stupid slow crossbow.”

  “You’re a great shot with anything but a bow Steve. Lean into your strengths.” Torgon patted the disconsolate man on his back and stored the bow in his inventory before returning to the pre-battle preparations.

  Hyperia and Dusty joined Torgon in perusing the stocks of supplies. “We have enough ranged weapons now. We could use some enchanted bows but overall, we’re in good shape. We have spares to rearm people in case of losses from deaths and we’re stockpiling resources for whatever purposes. Everyone is staying close to the base, running easy missions in town, gathering or just crafting. It’s the calm before the storm.” Hyperia relayed the information to Torgon.

  “Have you found anything out from your forum searches Dusty?” Torgon asked.

  Dusty considered before replying, “Nothing concrete. The sieges scale to the maximum size of the guild they’re attacking. People leaving affected guilds haven’t reduced the basic wave size. No one has experienced a siege yet, so we’ll know a lot more from what we experience and the reports from the rest of the front runner guilds. We don’t have a clue, but we have guesses. There are 5 waves, and each wave will be stronger than the one before it. The last wave will have a boss. It’s basic tower defense except we provide most of the defense at this stage. It could be a cakewalk it could be impossible. We’re planning for the unknowable.”

  “Any obvious gaps in our preparation that we can shore up last minute?” Torgon inquired. “We have over 20 hours until the sieges. How do you think we should spend them?”

  “Most things are taken care of. We’re already making more consumables, both food and potions. We have spare weapons. You can always make us more of those nice enchanted long swords though. I don’t think we’ll have enough of those anytime soon. I’m going to make extra armor and everyone else is crafting whatever they can to improve our chances. Ovarrix is making sure people understand the group tactics and strategy. Allestor, Steve, Frare, Ashford and Physical Ed are using the training grounds to, well, train as many people as they can. Mark’s setting up your little gate trap. If it’s possible to win this, we’ll win it.” Hyperia grinned with confidence as she delivered her report.

  Torgon took a deep breath and came to a decision. “It sounds like we’re prepared and continuing to prepare more. Nothing left for me to do than to take on another marathon crafting session.”

  Torgon made his way to the busy crafting area and gathered up the metal he needed to make swords, swords and even more swords. His hands laid the copper ingots out as he began shaping the metal for his purposes. He furrowed his brow in concentration while crafting blade after blade. The time melted away as he focused completely on the task. He ignored all the notifications and kept his message acknowledgments short. It was just him and the metal being forged for its purpose.

  Hours passed. The sounds of forging and crafting filled the air. The stack of ingots emptied before being filled again by helpful children. The rack of swords filled before those same children emptied them and distributed them to the guild members most talented in close combat. Torgon spent the entire day and night crafting, stopping only as the sun began to rise and the buff from the Faerie Tree expired.

  Another twenty-two hours of crafting, 75 fresh enchanted swords joined the pile. All the best fighters in the guild would be sporting an enchanted weapon. Over a quarter of the entire force was now so equipped. Everyone grabbed their gear and made their way to their assigned battle locations.

  A system announcement appeared as dawn broke.

  “Forces of the world have marshalled to try and destroy your guild base. Your base will be attacked by 5 waves of 800 monsters each. The final wave will include a boss. Each wave will be more difficult than the last. You are victorious if you defeat every single monster. The monsters are victorious if they destroy every single structure including the homes of guild residents. The first wave will begin at 06:05 and each additional wave will follow every ten minutes. Good Luck.”

  A timer counting down five minutes appeared in everyone’s vision as they readied themselves for the onslaught to come.