“Pardon me for not being comforted when you say that you think,”—the man, Phil, raised his hands in exaggerated air quotes—“that it ‘isn’t particularly hostile.’ I don’t think I’m alone when I say that I think it’s a bad idea to wait here and keep our fingers crossed that your half-baked plan keeps us all alive.”
Phil stayed on his feet in front of his armchair, awaiting a response. Garath just looked at him for a moment.
“Thanks, Phil. I appreciate you voicing your concern. You’re welcome to leave any time you’d like. Anyone else?” Garath asked.
The room was quiet, apart from a muffled laugh from Warrion.
“Okay, moving right along then. I mentioned before that I was going to make a Guild to replace our Raid Group. I went through that process last night, but most of you will be joining a second Guild. I learned that Guilds gain powerful bonuses for picking a specialization. For the Guild I started last night, I chose the Dungeon specialization because I’m sure we'll need every advantage we can get to do something nobody on Earth has been able to do in claiming a Dungeon. More on that later, though. I want everyone that is not going with me to the Dungeon to join a second Guild that I'm going to ask Gary to create."
Garath paused. He really should have said something to Gary about this beforehand. He looked at the bearded man questioningly, who looked back at him, surprised, but nodded his assent. “Thanks, Gary. My uncertainty on whether it’ll hold up to a World Boss is why I added the contingency of waiting at the north end of the building.” Garath paused, staring down at Phil with his fiercely glowing eyes until the pudgy man finally sat back down. “Great. Anything else before we move on?”
“What do we do if we have to leave?” asked the very pregnant Hispanic woman Garath knew as Almaria. “Will it chase us?”
Garath smiled warmly at her. “It might,” he said, his smile growing as a humorous mental video played in his mind. He was imagining Rum’bah chasing Almeria, specifically. He shook himself back into the moment. "But this World Boss happens to be a gigantic turtle. It moves very, very slowly. If it does decide to chase us, we won't have any problem getting away safely. It’d be a shame to let this building go, but we can always make a new home after it passes by. This is all just worst-case scenario, of course. I do expect the plan to work as I laid it out, to be clear.”
“Can we kill it?” asked a young man on the far side of the room. Garath recognized him as one of ‘the Hawkies’, a group of middle-school aged D&D nerds that kicked some serious ass for The Band throughout The Culling. There were murmurs of agreement throughout the hall. “I mean, it can’t be stronger than a Dragon. Right? Even if the damn thing did get better afterwards, we did kill a Dragon."
“I have no doubt that we could bring it down if we decide to go that route, but I think we should let it do its job. I know not many of you have spent time out there lately,” Garath said, pointing to the south, “but there are thousands of bloated, rotting corpses out there. I’m no doctor, but TodoroKen is. TodoroKen, what kind of complications can we expect from being surrounded by thousands of decaying bodies?”
TodoroKen looked to his wife and two children next to him on the couch, then nervously stood up to speak, his voice shaking. “Well, I was an orthopedic surgeon, not a pathologist. But I can tell you for certain that it’s bad.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Garath said, nodding. “There, you see? It’s bad. Nobody is going to dispose of them for us. If we kill the World Boss, then we will have to personally deal with the corpses. Anyone care to volunteer?”
Nobody cared to volunteer. Even Phil the asshat looked half-convinced that Garath’s plan was their best option.
“Alright. Gary and I will go over Guild creation and get everyone invited right after this meeting. Now, outside of our immediate danger, I also want to talk about the future. The truth is, it's pretty bleak. There are only 23 days left until other races are going to be implanted here on Earth. I don't know what races are coming or even have an idea what they’ll be like but, based entirely on our experience with The Culling, I think we should prepare for the worst."
At that point he knew his Leader of Man identification was taking effect. The words spilled naturally from his lips and over two-hundred people hung on his every word, murmuring in worried agreement.
"There was a prompt that we all received at the end of The Culling that told us about the Dungeons. It said that, once claimed, Dungeons can serve as a protected and resourceful home for humans. I don't know about you, but to me that sounds like a good way to prepare for the worst," he said, raising his voice and lowering it to keep their attention. Another murmur of agreement filled the hall and he continued. "As far as I know, not one of the ten Dungeons on Earth have been claimed by humans, and that needs to change before we’re not the only race that can claim them.” Garath prepared to deliver his call to action with a dramatic pause. When he spoke again, he made sure to project his new-found confidence with his shoulders back and hands at his sides. “I am going to lead a group to claim the Dungeon lying in the ruins of Seattle. We will make The Tower of Vy’thishrak a beacon for humanity! Others around the world will follow our example and mankind
