CHAPTER ONE:
His Most Serene Highness
On the tenth hour, of the seventh day in the final year of his Grace, the final horn has been blown, the final battle has ended. Indeed, it was the 873rd battle and the last of it recorded for the five-year-old DMMO-RPG game: Magdeburgisieren, a late medieval-esque RPG. The game had been humming along great in the first three years, it provided a great niche game for RPG players more interested in history than fantasy. Although there are certain fantasy elements, this was not the main theme of the game. The game was structured similarly to the old kings and queens of the old world, setting up a clan was similar to establishing a kingdom, the clan leader would be the so-called King and the members are dukes and vassals. Among the kingdoms would be the emperor, elected by the most powerful kings in the game. One could also set up smaller republics or a single crown city but they are few and mostly built up by the more financially minded players.
The final two years of the game was troublesome, the developers were radio-silent, most of the newer players left because of the constant raids by end-game players and the atmosphere became more toxic. This did not stop the top fifteen 'Kingdoms' from continuing their self-destruction as the final years further increased the flames of war amongst the kings of dukes and the dukes of counts. The so-called "Twelve-Month War" started when the developers of the game finally released a statement to close down the game due to financial issues but in reality, it was because of a falling out between the dev team. However, today is the last day of the war and also the last day of the game, every established faction in the game whether big or small agreed on a truce—except for vagabond groups—and spent their final hours celebrating in their own ways.
Goldvogel Clan, the fifth among the fifteen clans in the game celebrated their final victory with the most lavish of all celebrations; parades, music, beer halls and shooting galleries. The 72-strong clan, though not the top of the game, boasted the strongest powerbase of all the groups and displaying their power through their martial prowess even at the end of the game cemented their legacy as an eternal force. Though today their celebrations were minimal, they hosted the longest military parade over four hours long displaying all their current and reserve forces for the entire world to see. The aftermath of the parade was just mere talking and socialization with the rest of the clan.
Three hours. Only three hours left before the game ends, most of the clan members have already said their goodbyes and farewells —after the final Clan Ball— and as agreed upon of their decision, turned over all of their possessions to the clan leader. The only ones remaining was the first thirteen clansmen, the Dukes of Goldvogel assembled in the central palace of the Bastion: The Golden Bull to have their final discussion.
"… and so, with this decision His Most Serene Highness the Great Elector finalizes the decision reached by his subjects the Dukes of Säbelhires, Knackendorf and Luszeck as guaranteed. His Most Serene Highness wishes the audience of your Grace." The manservant NPC promptly bowed before leaving the room"
The players referred to as Dukes, assembled further up the palace on the second floor where they meet with the clan leader, the most important and powerful figure of this establishment, the Great Prince-Elector, His Most Serene Highness KarlhoffKlempner was looking outside the window observing the NPC soldiers marching back to their barrack houses.
"To the end I'm still amazed how those idiotic bunch of nerds managed to program such an immersive game with this much graphical detail. They've ruined themselves but what they done will be an example towards future historical titles in the making."
Magdeburgisieren compared to other DMMO-RPGs was lacking in the graphical department but made it up for the sheer amount of well researched detail, programming and scale compared to other titles.
While individual players can fight each other like any other game, the spotlight of this title was its large-scale AI versus AI armies. A player can command from something small as a company of soldiers to as large as a corps, with this system, organized clans fight each other fielding armies as large as half a million on a single battlefield.
To prevent needless cannon fodder spam, the developers programmed the AI with various clauses and specifications to their units. A player fielding nothing but low-level NPC armies will experience mass desertions and easy to break morale chaining maneuvers, however a player who spends too much on making their NPCs top of the line will encounter manpower and maintenance issues before they could send them into battle.
The top clans in Magdeburgisieren however have too much resources and paid items that fielding costly armies are no problem whatsoever, the only skill needed is actual tactical and strategic plans to win their battles.
"Heh, we've even beat those folks playing YGGDRASIL by a full year. Now we can brag about it for as long as there's still former YGG players lurking on the net."
Karlhoff invited his dearly close friends to sit down. In front of them was a luxurious special furniture granted to clans who've been made prior to the first game's anniversary. It was a symbol of their status as one of the originals who played the game: His Emperor's Own Long Table.
Each of the dukes sat down the thirteen chairs, on his end there were two chairs; one for him and the other for the clan's Electoral Prince, his personal and real life best-friend KuckuckRoss.
"So, it's finally come to this. The curtain falls upon our great nation."
"Oh shut it with the speech 'Herr Klempner' the games done, let's get on with the finalities"
The friends chuckled; they were a small group who graduated together but still stayed together. Them playing the game and staying to the end was just another reinforcement to that fact.
"Remember that one time the Angles were chasing the 4th Corps that I lent you and I had to cover your ass? There's a reason they call me the Plumber of Parn"
The chuckled turned into a laugh, there were many cases where Karlhoff had to sort out the problems his vassals got themselves into but it was fun. He had fun, the clan had fun the entire five years that the clan went through they never had a falling out. Sure they had moments of downtime and moments where they were up each other's necks but that was normal for most friend groups, and it was normally resolved peacefully ending on good terms.
The twelve continued to talk and talk, reminiscing all that they can remember, their experiences and their struggles with the game. They talked like back from when they were first in high school, talked about the other clans what they like and didn't like about them. Back then, sometimes some of them would come online just to talk to each other. It was only then when one of the game's moderator's announcements that cut their usual four-hour conversation and tangents short.
ATTENTION, ALL REMAINING MAGDEBURGISIEREN PLAYERS: THE GAME SERVERS WILL SHUT DOWN IN FIVE MINUTES, PLEASE MAKE SURE TO LOG OUT OF YOUR ACCOUNT AS TO NOT RECEIVE A CRANIAL SHOCK FROM THE SUDDEN DISCONNECT
That was it. The clansmen looked at each other in silence for a while. Their game where they permanently forged their bond together, where they shared pain and joy, all their hardwork was finally coming to an end.
All of them stood straight and tall. Their medallions, sashes and sabers gave a glittering shine, a definitive clack as they put their heels together and presented their palms forward into a salute, Karlhoff responded in kind. One by one his friends logged off in front of him and KuckuckRoss.
"HermannHerzlich"
"MarsOnFire"
"EisenbahnFeuerwerk"
"PerfidiousInsidious"
"EternalGlo"
"JonJohnJon"
"MaresLeg"
"BobbyLangesgesicht"
"RubiRubiRubicon"
"Adorable Dämonische Prinzessin"
The room became lighter as the dearest friends he held so dear left. Except for one more, to his side stood his second-in-command. KuckuckRoss was always someone he could count on watching the guild whenever Karlhoff couldn't login.
"Don't think that I would ever leave the captain alone with his sinking ship!" He proclaimed
It was for a matter of fact that Karlhoff and KuckuckRoss would rarely be apart from each other, except for cases where he actually needed to be away from the game. KuckuckRoss was with him from the beginning, and he'll be there at the end of it.
"Well then, dearest friend of mine. Care to take one last stroll of our great bastion?"
The highly esteemed Electoral Prince took a small bow
Fortress Himmel auf Erden or simply Fortress Erden was among the largest of the Bastion forts built by clans in-game. Although a clan can simply take over an NPC bastion, building one from the ground up was a feat of its own and gave more options and benefits if completed. Fully completed player bastions have access to a lot of flavor and quality of life options in customization and layout of the fortress structure.
Fortress Erden was built on the day Goldvogel was created and finished in one of the game's most legendary PVP battles. KarlhoffKlempner and the first thirteen had to bunk up first in an occupied hill fort while building the ridiculously large bastion complex purely funded by constant raiding parties and some personal donations particularly by the clan's Quartermaster General and Treasure Secretary EisenbahnFeuerwerk and RubiRubiRubicon respectively.
The fort's gargantuan structure was grossly overcompensated, some clans even remarked that KarlhoffKlempner only built it because he was hiding something of his own. To compare, the bastion's central palace; The Golden Bull is a whopping Two hundred thousand square kilometers, a fortress of its own right. Fortress Erden itself is a Bastion with a circumference of thirty-two kilometers, one could say it's a fortress city—It's anything but such a thing—the bastion was built with one thing in mind only: Endurance.
Erden is one of the seventy-two bastions in-game that can withstand a siege lasting more than ten thousand days. There was only one instance where it's walls were breached and it was due to a game-breaking bug that lasted for a month, otherwise it's physically impossible to siege down the bastion with a meager army before the first walls fall.
Other clan members owned forts of their own but it was only for personal possession and a place to garrison their own soldiers as to not overburden the main fortress too much.
KarlhoffKlempner and KuckuckRoss exited the greatly detailed Golden Bull, a red brick palace sporting many towers and buildings meant to serve as their administrative center as well as the Great Elector's personal home in-game. Greeting them outside was a man dressed in intricate garments, on his chest carried a gold-lined breastplate and to his hip an equally decorated saber. The NPC gave a small bow towards his master, it was the commander of His Serene Majesty's Garde-Regiment zu Fuβ—Karlhoff's personal bodyguard retinue. In fact, he had three of them but personally liked his mounted guards.
Karlhoff opened a menu, tapped a few buttons and four of the guard regiment's own assembled in a line before them. Although the game was ending it was still muscle memory for the clan leader to assign four guards on his person whenever he was talking a stroll, he even gave them personal names and promoted them into minor commanders of their own: Octra, Lorbra, Jotbra and Sulbra.
The two continued their walk around the gargantuan fort, both of them aren't even so sure if they could make it back before the game forces them to logout; so, they opted to borrow horses from the nearest stables instead.
"I've never taken a closer look but this place really is beautiful, isn't it? Ah I should've gotten some screenshots when I had the chance."
They galloped by the Royal Gardens, the NPCs still active and picking herbs to make healing items. They galloped through the barracks, where their digital toy soldiers stood by in attention as they went through the next hub.
"Where's our triumph my dearest Electoral Prince? I refuse to believe we don't have an audience at this time." KuckuckRoss chuckled, they were at Triumph Street, the main road connecting the main gate towards the center of the fort and standing in front of them was an archway decorated by countless sculptures of battles the clan fought in.
"Certainly, a shame once all of this is gone. But a fun one it was. Let's go back and drink our last bottle of brandy."
"Race you to the Golden Bull?"
"Bet."
Fast as their horses took them it seems Karlhoff was the unlucky one picking MarsOnFire's horse, deficit of a few levels compared to KuckuckRoss' personal steed. It was the Electoral Prince who finally downed the last cup and certainly his last victory in the game.
The two sat in the throne room, Karlhoff naturally in his seat of honour and Kuckuck leaning right by it. They lamented this soon-to-be-dead game in silence. Watching as the clock continues to tick their tocks down to the last second. Here it was, the final few seconds.
[23:59:15]
[23:59:14]
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Still on his throne, Karlhoff pulled out his rapier and raised it to the ceiling. The final war cry of Goldvogel.
"There is no other that bests us. Victory to Goldvogel!"
[23:59:09]
[23:59:08]
[23:59:07]
[23:59:06]
[23:59:05]
One last look. The two took their last screenshots, and themselves memorizing every crack and crevice of the throne room. They looked at each other, confirming their clan to its fate.
[23:59:04]
[23:59:03]
[23:59:02]
[23:59:01]
[00:00:00]
[00:00:01]
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The two continue staring at their pocket watches. Time continued marching on much to their… confusion. They continued to wait, maybe the servers lagged out due to the sudden disconnect.
They waited.
[00:00:32]
Karlhoff sank further into his quite comfortable throne, threw a sigh of great dismay. The clocks continued to turn and turn much to their surprise. He threw a glance at KuckuckRoss who did the same.
"Is this it? Where's the forceful disconnect?" KuckuckRoss remarked
A sudden thud. The Great Elector's fist came bearing down upon the arms of the throne.
"WHAT A HUGE DISAPPOINTMENT!"
His voice echoed throughout the room, threw his rapier down the flight of steps and onto the floor. KuckuckRoss simply continued to look at his watch, a sudden realization snapped.
"Hey uh, Karl"
"What."
"I can't seem to open the menu."
The clan leader fixed his posture and tried to comprehend what his friend just said. He tried as well and tried many times; the iconic transparent wood-like pop-up menu didn't appear. Was it a bug? Did the game shut down but the server itself still active? Or was this a huge and elaborate prank that the developers did. No, the dev team was too fractured to make a sick joke as this one work.
The two heard the clacking of shoes on the tiled floors, growing louder and louder. The two large oak doors slowly opened and revealed a manservant and a few chambermaids enter—the fort's NPCs.
The manservant asked an inquiry on what happened in the throne room to produce such a reaction. Karlhoff was… stunned to say the least. 'An NPC talking and moving on its own!?' before he could react, a man in plated armor sporting a brown beard made his way through; one of the many custom NPCs his clan created. A so-called Marshal who eases up the chain of command from player to the AI Armies, Marshal Jena approached.
"Your Grace what happened? One of the servant girls heard a loud noise and alerted the nearest guard."
KarlhoffKlempner hesitated, he tried to utter something but was cut off by his dear friend.
"His Most Serene Highness the Great Elector simply lost a drinking game with me. Although now that you're here Lord Jena I wish to assemble a war council immediately. We shall be in the appropriate chambers in due time."
The "NPCs" immediately bowed and walked back a few steps before heading out of the room. His Grace the Electoral Prince turned towards Karlhoff.
"I think I know what happened. I don't know if I'm crazy but it might be related to that Yggdrasil incident a year ago."
The clan leader, was put back into a stable state. He always depended on KuckuckRoss since he was the most reliable of his clansmen when it came to dire things. Karlhoff composed himself, stood up and walked down the thirteen flights of stairs to pick up his rapier.
"If it is what I think it is my dearest friend, then that would mean we are forever gone."
A grim aura surrounded Karlhoff. He heard rumors about that incident a year ago but never as so much believed in it, he was a man of rationality after all.
"If what we think of is the fact Karl, then I see this—personally—as a sign of renewed redemption."
He titled his head, in confusion he asked to further elaborate what KuckuckRoss meant by that. The Electoral Prince in great detail to his hypothesis the blessing in disguise of this 'bug' of sorts. As they walked out of the throne room and headed towards the Assembly Hall, out of the balcony they see their soldiers moving about in abnormal manner. Due to the game's limitations, they could only provide some basic form of movement for the AI; players themselves could tweak certain parameters to make it flow naturally but there was still that air of stiffness. This was different, the soldiers down below moved fluidly and naturally as if they were living breathing people.
"Is it just me or have you observed the graphics improved? It's… it's almost like Ygg's graphics engine."
Karlhoff stayed as mute as a mule, because he too already noticed it back when the clock reached zero.
They stopped in front of two reinforced doors, this led to a pathway which itself leads to the great assembly hall of Goldvogel. This is the root, the skull of all the operations and plans which they created, destroyed and improved. On the other side of it lies the unmistakable unknown, an uncanny valley of doubts which met them. They stood fast, and made their way into the hall.
The familiar act of NPCs bowing as the two most important people in Goldvogel brought upon some relief on the pair. It was soon met by the welcome of the head of the Marshals, one of thirteen Field marshals Goldvogel possessed.
"We humbly welcome the presence of His Most Serene Highness the Great Elector, and His Serene Grace the Electoral Prince. I, Field marshal Klemens von Kackernacht and the other lord marshals of this great kingdom have gathered as your Most Serene Highness has requested.
KuckuckRoss' hypothesis was indeed correct. They were stuck in this place permanently.