The Butcher of Gadobhra

Billy was looking forward to a day off from the game and getting some time in the real world. He knew it wouldn't be an actual day off, nor did he want one. He wanted a steak, a few beers, another steak, and time to network with a few people, research what he could on the data net, and read through the beta tester forums. Any of his bosses above him at ACME would agree with his attitude. They didn't think much of any middle manager who would rather have a personal life than give their all for the corporation. You worked as hard as you could until you either hit upper management, burnt out, or had a heart attack, and any manager who wanted to stay in management didn't take days off. Billy would be happy with working in his apartment, not on a rustic wooden table, with proper air conditioning and music. He could do paperwork while streaming content from the beta players. And best of all, sleep in his own bed while his pillow whispered all the current office gossip to his subconscious.

The last was important. It wasn't enough to do your job. You also had to know what other people at your level were doing, what the other corps were up to, and the latest developments in technology. So it was a 'working day off'—but still a day off. He logged out of the game, expecting to hear the hiss of releasing gases, the smell of a steak dinner coming out of the auto-delivery tube, and the sound of a hot shower turning on.

But Billy didn't even make it out of his pod.

As soon as he disconnected from the game, he was moved to a virtual meeting room. All corporations met virtually now, a leftover of the shut-down protocols of 2020, 2039, and 2112. Normally, they would show up in a boardroom, dressed in suits and ties, at an enormous table. He immediately knew this was going to be different, just by the smell. Looking around only confirmed that it was going to be bad. He and the twenty-four other people competing for the Regional position were all there, and most looked surprised. Surprise meetings were always stressful. Billy took a deep breath and relaxed. People did stupid things when stressed and worried, and sometimes he could take advantage of that if he could make them lose their temper.

Everyone had a similar look, dressed as filthy serfs that would have fit right into Billy's crew in Sedgewick. Hell, even worse, those people had muscles and good attitudes. These people were scared and weren't used to finding themselves dressed in rags and baggy tunics. The burlap was scratchy and had some very bad odors attached to it. Billy hadn't minded that his workers had to wear this stuff and wasn't going to develop any empathy from having to wear this crap himself. He just hated it and assumed his workers hated it.

The building was a barn and it oozed rustic. Cows were mooing in stalls. Rusty tools leaned against the walls or lying in wait to strike like a snake. He'd already watched Sammy step on a rake and start screaming about his injured foot as he hopped around asking for a first aid kit. Pigeons were shitting on people from the rafters. Instead of chairs, they had bales of hay or overturned buckets. Billy claimed a hay bale not under a rafter full of birds and glared at anyone trying to sit next to him. He had a reputation for being nasty at company parties and didn't like small talk. Those who didn't get seats stood along the sides of the room. The floor was covered in cow pies.

This was going to be one hell of a meeting. He wondered what else could go wrong and instantly regretted the stray thought. The universe liked to show you just what else could go bad, gleefully at times. Warning bells were going off in his head as a woman materialized nearby. "Why, Billy, you saved me a seat; how sweet of you."

Layla Vandergilt looked good even in burlap and cow shit, but Billy would rather sit next to an angry cobra. She managed to take the seat next to him by swinging her hip into him and knocking him over. She smiled as she crossed her legs in front of her. Billy nodded to himself. Layla had always managed to get what she wanted with those legs, hips, and a smile - even from him. Where everyone else was nervous, she oozed confidence. He couldn't help himself as he took a glance at her. She looked damned good even in wearing crappy serf rags. She reached out a perfectly manicured hand and pulled him up beside her, smiling.

Admiral Akbar was yelling in the back of his head, but as usual, Billy wasn't listening. Layla did that to him. He told himself he'd never date her again, and then some random event would throw them together on a project. That would lead to dinner, and somehow, every time they went to dinner, they ended up at his apartment and started dating again. The affair would end after she pulled off some amazing coup and wormed some bit of info from him. Her division would move up a bit while his division took a nose dive. Then he'd work to turn the tables on her, and the cycle would start again. He really needed to listen to the Admiral someday.

Billy had even paid for a psychiatry program to get inside his head and tell him why he was so attracted to the woman. He didn't like its conclusions. Billy knew he didn't like most people despite being able to appear as if he did. Most people were idiots, but Layla wasn't. She was as smart and as vicious as he was - and educated. And she hated the people she had to work with worse than he did. A desirous combination of smarts, attitude, spite, and drive, all wrapped up in a gorgeous package. She was everything he wanted in a woman, except the part where she stabbed him in the back every time they started dating again.

"It's so good to see you here, Billy. That means we're both still in the race for the regional director, despite your little stunt lining up your crew ahead of time to get the first pick. How's the cow shit smell in Sedgewick?"

He glared at her, "Don't start with me. Seriously, if you mess with me right now, I will find a way to throw you under the bus."

She didn't seem threatened. "Bus? Don't you mean wagon, Billy dearest?"

"Make it a wagon piled high with manure, pulled by twelve draft horses. I'll run right over you, circle round, and run over you again."

Layla started to say something else to him when Vernon Throckmorton strode in. Or rather, the people carrying him strode in. He was seated on a large throne with a handle at each corner. Vern was dressed as a Scottish Lord in all of his glory. The four stocky men at arms sat his throne down in the front of the room and stood back. Stepping up next to Vern was Seth Davidson, his right-hand lackey and head of HR. Today, Seth was dressed as a headsman, complete with a large axe. Not too different from the real world Billy thought. The symbolism wasn't lost on anyone in the room.

Vernon Spoke: "If you're wondering why you're sitting in shit, it's a blunt metaphor for your job security. This is a replica of a barn Acme now owns, and it's the biggest building any of you have been able to build, buy, or steal for us so far. And if I have to put my Headquarters in a barn, I'm hiring the cows and sending all of you to the slaughterhouse."

Vern looked around the room, managing to catch each person's eyes briefly and make known his displeasure.

"Each of you was tasked with building a local HQ for ACME Corp, finding local resources, and staking claims. We need to get revenue streams going fast so we can control the commerce and buy up the land. I had high hopes for all of you...too high, it seems. I was even going to reward whoever did the best with the new position of Northern Regional Manager. Yet, what do I have so far? A few barns, herds of goats, piss ant small contracts, and a big bill for contract labor. I'm totally aware it's only been a week. We needed a lot out of all of you and your teams of Contract Workers, and I don't see any results that I like. I'm tempted just to leave you where you are and demote you. So unless you all want to be stuck in those cesspits for five years eating groatmeal, I'd better see some changes or hear some great ideas. What the hell is the hold-up?

Billy put on his best 'I'm thinking hard, boss' look and sat silent. Let someone else state the obvious and take the lumps. And sure enough, someone volunteered to be old Verns punching bag today.

Sammy had a problem, and it was his spine. Too much of it to take his lumps, but not enough to ever take the lead and not look back. He felt he deserved to be treated with a smidgeon of respect. But when he didn't work smart enough to get any, his spine stiffened a bit, and his mouth wrote a check he couldn't cash. Billy loved that about Sammy, and secretly was amazed he was still hanging on after multiple screw ups. This might be his last. Vern was under pressure from his bosses, and shit flowed downhill.

Oblivious to his impending doom, Sammy stood up and spoke: "Well, Mr. Throckmorton, I'd say part of the problem is our workers. They have minimal skills, no ability to fight, no classes even. They're good for manual labor, and that's it. Give me a balanced group of mixed fighters, healers, and mages, and I'll get the area near my village scouted and claimed in three days flat."

Well, this was going to be interesting. Billy knew just where Sammy got that idea. Alchemarx had gone about things very differently from ACME. All their contract workers had characters similar to regular players. They had formed 25 strong mercenary companies with 10 warriors, 5 mages, 5 clerics, and 5 rogue/scouts. They immediately conquered the little villages they started in and hit the surrounding area hard - lots of early success claiming land and resources. Sammy obviously liked the idea. Billy thought Sammy was an idiot. Suggesting that another corporation was 'doing it right' wasn't the way to win over your boss.

Vernon scowled. "Missed the memo, did you, Sammy? We spent weeks negotiating with WALLY to make sure our contract with him and our contracts with those workers you find useless gave us just what we needed. But for shits and giggles, let's imagine I give you what you want? After all, we had the option to use the same strategy that several other corporations are using. Say that we did that, and I give you twenty-five first-level adventurers. Tell me what you'd do."

Sammy had thought this out and was ready with his answer. "The first thing I do is conquer the town. They have no guards or militia, so I just walk in and take over. Now, I don't have to pay for any of my food or lodging, and my bottom line looks better. I can claim the surrounding areas and locate the mines, dungeons, and resources. I won't spend my time sitting around planning out farms and worrying about how to feed my crew of farmers and woodcutters."

There were no nods of appreciation or applause, even from the people who liked Sammy's idea.

Vern looked sad and slowly shook his head. "Really, and then what?"

"I just keep using them to explore, claim, kill stuff, and expand. It's a game."

"Sammy, I'm tempted, truly tempted, to let you do just that to see what happens. But frankly, ACME would lose resources, and you might not even understand the lesson. Worse, you could cause trouble for the rest of the company. You mentioned taking over that little town. Are you expecting them to work for you? They already have jobs and are just getting by. They can't afford to produce enough food for 25 mercenaries. And the Baron they owe fealty to is going to be a little ticked off. You can expect him and his troops or a squad from the Legion to come to kick you out of the town. Actually, it will probably be the Legion. The Baron pays taxes to support them, after all."

"Okay, so maybe I should avoid taking over the town and just grab the best chunks of land and resources."

Vern shrugged. "That's a little better, at least now the Legion isn't pissed at the rest of s. But remember, those resources belong to people, so it's best you head to the wilderness areas and find unclaimed land. Except you need to build a fortification, buy wagons, and bring food, tools, and materials. Where does the money come from? And you don't have lumberjacks, miners, carpenters, cooks, and all the labor needed for that excursion."

"So, send someone with me. I'll take Dennis and his twenty-five workers to set up the town." Sammy pushed on, hating to back down.

"My, my. Now you've doubled the costs. But we still haven't solved the money and food problems. Your mercenaries are in starter gear, can only fight small stuff, and heading off into the wilds away from the support of a town. Even with how fast food grows in the game, you need farmland, seeds, and time. We don't start with enough cash to give you all that. You don't have anyone who can work! You've got a bunch of primadonna orc slayers, only good for slaying more orcs. They are crap at digging, hauling, mining, lumbering, and trade skills. You aren't going to be able to build the infrastructure we need. If you find a mine, what happens? You have no miners. No lumberjacks to clear forests and supply timber."

Vern looked around the room. "We spent months gaming this out, running scenarios, and getting hints from the damned A.I. about the starting conditions. He was actually happy to work with us on a lot of it. ACME is going to farm, build infrastructure, and start earning money. With money we can buy land, open shops in the cities, and keep expanding. At some point there will be a day we hire mercenaries, but not yet. The only thing those Adventurers are good for is if you find a dungeon and reap some treasure. Too bad dungeons are rare as hell. They can be real money when cleaned out regularly and managed. Control of dungeons in the last game made fortunes for many people. But so far, no one has found one in this game - they aren't just randomly appearing in large caves or wolf lairs. This means after some initial scouting and raiding, your group wouldn't be worth keeping on the payroll. A bunch of murder-hobos isn't going to do the boring manual labor to build towns and set up the trade."

Sammy wavered, and Vern glared at him until he sat down, meekly.

"I gave you the perfect workers. They have triple the stamina of a normal player, have more health, and can outwork and outhaul all your Warriors and Wizards. They eat anything we give them, have better attitudes from the mental buffs, and with limited skills they have limited choices. Best of all, we've rigged the system this time. No one is going out 'Adventuring' and earning money on the side. his way out of a contract. These people couldn't kill a goblin if it were 10 to 1 odds."

Vern was warmed up now, and everyone but Sammy relaxed. He could rant for hours.

"I remember what kept happening in earlier games when we hired and trained people. We thought we had employees, and they thought they were getting paid to play a game. We didn't have control over their skills and leveling. Half the time when they were online, they snuck away from and practiced their skills. They missed shifts because they died too many times on their days off. When they found a dungeon or resource, they sold it to the highest bidder. Eventually, it was more lucrative for them to delve into dungeons and sell the loot for real money, and they quit or bought out their contract. That isn't happening this time. But sure, tell me about Tesladyne annexing a big chunk of the area near Wolfsburg or Alexacorp's takeover of the Devil's Gate thieves' guild. Tell me how other corporations have competent managers who get things done while I'm holding meetings in a barn! I hope you like the taste of groat muffins, Sammy. I really do."

Vernon was shouting now, and his face was turning red. Billy was impressed. The old boy was really in a lather. Billy was already making plans. He needed to really accelerate things. Get more scouting out of the guild he'd hired. They'd found some odd things, but nothing concrete yet. He hated paying them with his own cash, but that's how he'd get ahead. Find a mine, quarry, or tribe of rich demi-humans to cheat. He'd get started as soon as this shitshow was over; screw taking off a day...he noticed Layla leaning close to him.

Layla had the impressive ability to say something in that deep, soft voice of hers and yet get the attention of the entire room. "Billy, tell the boss what you were bragging to me about. Whatever big thing you said you'd found." No one but Billy saw the smallest of smirks on her face as she leaned back, eagerly looking at him and then at Mr. Throckmorton. OH SHIT! Billy knew exactly how this would play out. Vern would turn his attention on Billy; Billy wouldn't have anything, and Layla would probably laugh it off as him just bragging about 'the big thing in his pants.' Billy would be Vern's punching bag for the rest of the month. The bitch might even be angling for more. She'd set him up again.

"Yes, Billy, let's hear this wonderful plan. I could use some good news. Or maybe a good laugh. Or do I have to keep you and Miss Vandergilt after class for passing notes?"

Billy looked down at Layla. He hated digging himself in deeper. but she needed a lesson that when he said, 'Don't screw with me today.' he meant it. He stood up eagerly and smiled his best smile. "Ok, boss, you got me, I never could hide anything from you. Yeah, I've got something. I was hoping to keep it undercover. I guess I talk in my sleep a bit. Layla missed me and showed up at my place last night, in-game, to 'test out the equipment.'

The room laughed. Layla stared daggers at him. Vern smiled and wagged a finger at Layla, "Naughty little girl. If you have time to chase after Billy for some hanky-panky we aren't keeping you busy enough. But do continue, Billy; I'm sure we'd all like to hear what you have to say."

Billy looked Vern in the eye. "I've got a winner. A guaranteed money maker. I've been keeping the serfs busy with crap work to cover my ass in case anyone was spying on me. Hell, it's so big I'm going to do something I'd normally never even consider. I'm going to ask for help. I need Layla and her crew in Sedgewick tomorrow to start on this job and get the money pouring in! She can have 15% of my take."

"Oh Billy, you know how to get me excited; what do you have for me, my boy? Let's not keep Uncle Vern waiting. What have you found?" Vern had done one of his mercurial mood changes, going from angry to excited.

Layla, however, was less than thrilled. This wasn't going as planned, and she could feel the knife turning in her back. Vern would swap right back to furious and be pointed at her and Billy. She knew Billy had nothing. She had three spies reporting to her about what he was doing; Two at ACME HQ and a beta tester, and they all agreed that there was nothing in Sedgewick. Did he somehow co-opt her spies and then make some discovery? That would be just like him to turn the tables on her as she was working to cause him grief. The little bastard looked like he had it together for once, and no matter how this worked out, it could be bad for her. If he had something, she'd have to work under him. But he might have nothing, and that was worse! He was a spiteful enough bastard to decide to take her down with him. He was the most dangerous with his back to a wall. Hell, he was dangerous all the time. And he'd warned her...but how was she to know he was serious this time.

Billy was thinking, 'Go big or go home' and reached for the big lie: "My scouts think that they've found something interesting, maybe a dungeon—a huge one, surrounded by ruins. We can build the Regional HQ there. Make a fortune off the players coming to the dungeon. Build a trade city. ACME could even gets a 'Global First' for finding a dungeon before anyone else. We'll have control of the biggest dungeon in the North."

Vern smiled. Billy smiled back. Layla smiled at Billy. The rest of the twenty-three managers looked very worried. Inwardly, Billy was wondering how long he could stall, or if he should start polishing his resume.