The Dragonborn Overlord of the New World

by nolalothcaragascint1

[Overlord AU/Canon Divergence. No Ainz or Nazarick] [Slow burn] Guild Master Tiberius of the Sanguine Dragons has spent the last 12 years adventuring throughout the nine worlds of YGGDRASIL. But now the game servers are shutting down. What happens when he inadvertently remains behind during the shut down? How will Tiberius react when finds himself in a New World?

2. Prelude

Prelude

Something Ends, Something Begins

The farmer's fields were filled with golden wheat that waved in the late afternoon breeze and just beyond the fields lay their small hamlet. Several wagon caravans could be seen trundling along on the nearby snaking trade road. Seated at the far end of the road lay their destination. A port city, a major trade hub for the region. A place usually full of activity now stood with a distinct lack of commotion.

In the distance, the sun had begun to touch the horizon. The once bright blue sky now took on hues of light purple, deep orange, and red as day gave way to night.

To any observer, this sunset wouldn't seem particularly unusual. Just another mundane happening in the world at large. However, this sunset held a new meaning on this night. It was the herald of the end. This sunset would mark the final nightfall for the world of YGGDRASIL.

YGGDRASIL.

The game of choice for the many who subscribed to Dive Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Games. Or DMMO-RPG for short.

It was a game that made use of unique technology, a neural-nano interface game console, to truly immerse its players in the game's virtual world.

Almost from day one of its launch, YGGDRASIL was received with much praise and fondly favoured by those who bought in on it. For twelve years YGGDRASIL became a second home for countless players. Through their virtual avatars, these people explored the lands through the myriad of diverse avenues opened up to them by YGGDRASIL's comprehensive character creation.

Within the game, 700+ races were available for players to choose between. But this was just the tip of the veritable iceberg that drew people to the game. The true draw of YGGDRASIL's job-class system. Consisting of over 2,000 different classes, including numerous prestige classes. In addition, there were even a number of hidden classes that were obscured behind cryptic or ill-defined prerequisites.

With these foundations, there were copious permutations available for players to experiment with.

Just about anything was a possibility.

From the classic swashbuckling adventurers to explorers who sought renown and glory as they ventured across the landscape in search of the unknown. To the sword-swinging combat-orientated classes, fighters who specialized in player versus player -or PvP- play style. These players could often be found competing against one another in simple duels to glorious sponsored tournaments with a wide assortment of valuable prizes that could be won.

Such character builds were common enough. But there were those players who weren't content with the status quo and decided instead to take on far more unique and specialized roles with classes like…

Master Chef. A class for those players with an interest in the culinary arts. These players traversed the lands of YGGDRASIL seeking the finest of ingredients to fashion the most delectable cuisine the Nine Worlds had ever seen.

Alchemists who hunted for the rarest of reagents with which to brew extraordinary elixirs.

Craftsmen who spent their time experimenting with the materials gathered from the farthest reaches to fabricate items of unparalleled skill. Tradesmen who sought to barter and gain riches as they built their own trade empires.

The sorcerers and wizards – individuals who coveted magical knowledge above all else. Individuals that plumbed the depths of magic and the power of spellcasting.

To even the simple bards and scribes that recorded YGGDRASIL's lore and the shared history of its inhabitants.

All these were but mere examples of the level of choice that the developers had granted to YGGDRASIL's player base.

It was this freedom. Freedom to craft their avatar and tailor just about every aspect –clothing, armour, weaponry, and many other cosmetic details- to their liking. To write their own stories that were so sought after by its players.

With this power to shape their destinies so to speak, players would make their way through the Nine Worlds of YGGDRASIL. From the lofty heights of Asgard to the homeland of the elves, Alfheim. The mountainous lands of Nidavellir filled with underground treasure troves of ores. The mundane world of Midgard to the frozen lands of Jotunheim. The fertile grounds of Vanaheim and the mist-shrouded realm of Niflheim. To the fiery realm of Muspelheim and to the depths of the darkness within Helheim.

With all this going for it, YGGDRASIL quickly rose to a place of prominence.

Yet now after these many years, the game's developers had decided that YGGDRASIL had run its course. That there were no more stories left to tell, and thus the story of YGGDRASIL had reached its inevitable end.

So it was that all this rich history would soon be wiped away at the stroke of midnight. Just as the tide washes clean the sands of the beach.

It was this knowledge that weighed heavily on the mind of the figure that stood perched upon the clifftop overlook.

With an otherworldly presence, he embodied the unmistakable mark of his inhuman lineage – a race known as Dragonoids.

Toweringly tall at around eight feet, his true stature exceeded eight and a half when accounting for the length of his horns. His body, predominantly humanoid in shape, boasted a muscular and chiseled physique concealed beneath resplendent golden scales. But it was his head that truly commanded attention, reminiscent of the ancient behemoths that once roamed the Earth: the dinosaurs. Imagine a mesmerizing fusion of an allosaurus and the fantastical traits of a dragon.

His elongated, powerful reptilian muzzle was adorned with rows of serrated, dagger-like teeth, giving him a formidable countenance. Instead of the rounded pupils of mammals, his eyes possessed a striking vertical slit, surrounded by an iris ablaze with a fiery red-orange hue, shimmering with a metallic glimmer. Above those mesmerizing eyes, layers of thick scales formed a spiny, crest-like brow, merging seamlessly with a pair of sleek silver horns, each measuring approximately twelve inches, their ebony tips elegantly arching upward and backward.

Sprouting from the area near his shoulders, a pair of wings reminiscent of bats lay folded upon his back, deceptively compact in their resting state. However, when unfurled, they spread wide, granting him the ability to soar through the heavens with ease. Further down, where a human's tailbone would be, his thickly scaled tail anchored itself, stretching almost as long as his towering frame before culminating in a whip-like tip, enabling swift and agile movements. His legs, bearing the mark of his animalistic heritage, stood with a digitigrade stance, while his reptilian feet showcased three imposing, splayed main toes and a smaller, rear-facing hind toe, each armed with robust and razor-sharp talons.

In contrast to the resplendent golden scales that adorned his body, the dragonoid was clad in a suit of dark silver plate armour that commanded attention. This armour, forged from the legendary YGGDRASIL ore known as Star Silver, was said to be one of the rarest and most precious prismatic ores in existence.

But this armour was no ordinary set of protective gear – it had been imbued with powerful magic, elevating it to the esteemed tier of divine-class equipment. And to add a touch of personal flair, its appearance had been meticulously tailored to suit the dragonoid's unique taste.

The pauldrons, situated upon his massive shoulders, were artfully shaped to resemble the fierce heads of mighty wolves. These canine visages extended downward, covering the overlapping scale-shaped plates of his upper arms. The craftsmanship was exquisite, capturing every intricate detail of windswept fur within the metallic surface. Each of the two wolf heads conveyed a different expression, as if frozen in time.

The left-headed wolf projected an air of tranquility, with its friendly eyes and alert, perked ears. In stark contrast, its partner bore a ferocious snarl, baring its menacing fangs. Its narrowed eyes and ears pulled back conveyed an unmistakable threat – a clear warning to any who dared challenge the dragonoid's might.

The armour's design cleverly mimicked the scales of a dragon, with shield-shaped plates overlapping each other. It extended partially down the length of his tail, offering additional protection. Similarly, his feet were adorned with armoured leggings, safeguarding his shins and the tops of his feet while leaving his sharp talons exposed.

Close inspection of the metallic plates revealed delicate scrollwork, expertly inlaid with white gold. Intricate runic engravings adorned the dark silver metal, their purpose to enhance the wearer's abilities. As a final touch of grandeur, a magnificent scarlet cape cascaded from the dragonoid's broad shoulders, proudly displaying a top-down view of a dragon's skull framed by angelic wings.

In this awe-inspiring ensemble of Star Silver armour, adorned with intricate details and magical enchantments, the dragonoid stood as a living embodiment of power, a force to be reckoned with. The harmonious fusion of strength, mystique, and artistry made him an indomitable presence, worthy of both admiration and trepidation.

"Hey, Tiberius," a cheery voice called forth to break the stillness.

At the sound of his name, the draconic player pulled his attention away from the landscape before him. Turning his gaze fell upon the cluster of players that had assembled in the grassy field atop the overlook.

Without the need to think he recognized these individuals instantly. For they were not just mere players, but his fellow guildmates of the Sanguine Dragons.

"What are you doing out here?" a masculine voice emanated from the leader of the group. His voice was smooth and elegant as if its owner had spent many hours learning the art of refined mannerisms.

It was an individual named, Charming Rock.

Charming Rock commanded attention with his towering presence, standing at an impressive height of six feet. Clad in a sleek and sophisticated business suit, he exuded an air of formality that belied his true nature. At first glance, one might mistake him for a human, but a closer look revealed the astonishing truth: Charming Rock was far from ordinary.

Where his left side should have boasted smooth, supple flesh, there stood instead an awe-inspiring display of raw, chiseled stone. From head to toe, his body was a unique fusion of flesh and rock, marking him unmistakably as a member of the enigmatic Half-Golem race. This extraordinary trait set him apart from the mundane, imbuing him with an otherworldly charm that both intrigued and captivated those who encountered him.

Charming Rock was more than just a mere businessman in a formal suit; he was a living embodiment of the extraordinary. In his presence, the boundaries between the mundane and the mystical blurred, leaving a lasting impression on those fortunate enough to cross paths with this enigmatic Half-Golem.

"I was feeling a bit nostalgic so I figured I'd do one last quest, for old time's sake. Before I head back to the guild to drop off the loot. But I guess I got distracted by the view."

Tiberius replied with an unnatural stillness to his face.

This was for communication was one of the limitations of YGGDRASIL.

Although the game offered incredible levels of detail and customization –with more added in later expansions. Animations for character models were lacking in many ways. While the more simplistic races such as humans, elves, dwarves, and the like had a few basic facial expressions that players could swap between. The more inhuman races completely lacked such animations.

It was something the developers had addressed early on in YGGDRASIL's life cycle. Explaining it was simply beyond their ability for the time and resources needed to give all 700+ races proper facial animations was an impossibility. Instead, that time would be put into adding content to the game world.

So it was that players with inhuman avatars were forced to rely on emoticons to signify emotions.

With a leisurely pace, the group of players advanced towards the armoured dragonoid before coming to a stop several yards away. In doing so the group spread out to form a half-circle.

Tiberius' eyes passed over each of the seven players in turn.

Charming Rock the Half-golem, Green Tea Tsunami the Arcane Ooze, Weeping Martyr the High Elf, Wiseman King the Dwarf, ArtisticSeer the Seraphim, Revenant F00L the Demilich, and Socrates Architect the Automaton.

"Oh yeah? What quest was it? Retrieving wyvern scales, collecting frost giant fangs? Oh, how about the one where you escort the soldiers to protect the princess? Or maybe slay the vampire lord?" an excitable voice rang out.

"Nothing like that," Tiberius shook his head "It was just one of the starting quests, you know taking out that pack of wolves for the farmer."

The once excitable bandage-covered High Elf sagged at the revelation. "Really? That's a total noob quest! You only get like a handful of coins for that."

Tiberius chose to ignore the comment before continuing. "So, did the seven of you come to join me in watching the sunset?"

"Sorry, but no," the Arcane Ooze spoke with a soft feminine voice. The amorphous blob of ooze shimmied closer, the swirls of arcane energy within its body sparkling in the light. "The others have already logged out and we were going to as well."

"But we couldn't! Not without saying goodbye one last time," Weeping Martyr interrupted, his once energetic tone having left him.

Oh, it's time already.

"I can't say I blame them for heading off," the golden armoured dwarf, Wiseman King, commented. "We have been running marathon sessions the last two months and this one was no different. Heck, I could do with a good forty winks myself." The end of the statement was punctuated with a heavy yawn.

"Yeah," Tiberius nodded, "These last two months have been rather chaotic for the guild. Yet look at what we were able to accomplish. We went from placing in middling four hundred to being amongst the top twenty-five guilds still active."

At these words, the Demilich stirred.

"Yeah, yeah but our rank would be even higher if we hadn't limited ourselves to raiding only abandoned guild bases." He punctuated his statement with an emoticon of a red disgruntled face. "Hell, we probably could've made it all the way up to the top ten or even number one. Not to mention all the sweet loot we missed out on."

"Now, now Revenant. We took a vote on the matter and we all agreed to abide by the outcome," the older and distinguished voice of Socrates Architect chided gently.

Amidst a motley crew of characters, stood Socrates Architect – a delightful oddity in his own right.

Holding the title of the guild's eldest member, it was a role he embraced with the warmth and wisdom of a cherished grandfather. His endearing habit of dispensing sage advice had become a trademark, leaving no doubt that this peculiar soul possessed a wealth of knowledge and experience.

But what truly set Socrates Architect apart was his chosen form – an automaton, a mechanical marvel designed to resemble a venerable wizard draped in robes woven from the finest silks. The attention to detail was astonishing, especially in the creation of his face. Crafted from a harmonious blend of brass and silver, it hung delicately like a mask, obscuring the inner workings that lay beneath.

Behind that visage of timeless wisdom, a mesmerizing spectacle unfolded – a symphony of gears, springs, and levers, each meticulously crafted and intricately synchronized. These visible clockwork mechanisms breathed life into Socrates Architect's countenance, animating his features with a captivating display of mechanical artistry. As the gears whirred and the springs coiled, his face seemed to come alive, its sharp lines and elongated, pointed beard embodying the very essence of arcane wisdom.

It was an enchanting sight to behold – an amalgamation of ancient craftsmanship and futuristic ingenuity, seamlessly blending the realms of magic and machinery. Socrates Architect, the name befitting his dual nature as both a master builder of ideas and a living testament to the wonders of invention.

In the presence of this enigmatic figure, one couldn't help but be captivated by the juxtaposition of his sage-like wisdom and his mechanized form. Socrates Architect was a true anomaly, a testament to the boundless creativity that thrived within the guild.

"They worked long and hard to build what they have just as we. It would be wrong of us to rob them of all they accomplished on the eve of the end. What harm has been done by allowing them to keep their glory when all are set to lose it equally."

"And besides, wasn't it you who came up with the idea of going after the abandoned guild bases in the first place?" Wiseman King admonished his friend with a finger shake in his direction.

Though the Demilich's facial expression remained unchanged, it was clear to the group he was glaring at the dwarf. This change of demeanor served only to rouse a bout of laughter from the collective.

"Whatever," Revenant grumbled, "It's getting late and I am gonna take off."

At that moment it seemed that the laughter receded as promptly as it had come. Those words served as a reminder to all of the impending situation and did well to sober the group. Silence once again descended on the group of friends as they stood unmoving.

"I think I will be going as well."

The words seemed to echo as one by one the others chimed in to announce their intent.

"What about you, Tiberius?" Weeping Martyr inquired displaying an emoticon of a face with a raised eyebrow denoting puzzlement.

"I'll be sticking around a while yet," the draconic player answered, "Still got to deposit the reward back at the treasury to finish the quest."

"Persevere to the end in any enterprise begun," Socrates Architect rattled off an excerpt from the guild's edicts in his usual fashion.

A soft chime rang out bringing the attention of the group back to the Half-Golem. With a rise of his hand, Charming brought up his in-game console to silence the alarm.

"Well, my friends. Our time it seems draws to a close. It has been a great honour and pleasure to have the privilege of traveling with you all these many years" Charming Rock punctuated his words with a deep bow to his gathered friends.

Socrates Architect stroked a hand along the length of his firm metallic beard "Shall we say our goodbyes one final time? Perhaps we should conclude this as we have all our assemblies?"

Silent as whispers, the players convened, forming a tight circle. Like a choreographed dance, they raised their right arms and crossed them over their chests, resting fists on their left shoulders. Yet, amongst this synchronized display, one figure stood out – a delightful spectacle of whimsy. The Green Tea Tsunami, an amorphous blob of arcane energy, mimicked the motions with a grace all her own. Without arms or a proper torso, she embodied the essence of improvisation, infusing the solemn ritual with a touch of delightful absurdity.

"Formed from many, now as one. United we stand, together we stay. Honour binds us with wisdom and strength. Through power we achieve purpose. The first, the last, the eternal Sanguine Dragons."

The verse was spoken as if in a single voice but from many mouths. With the recitation complete, their arms were lowered and returned to their usual resting position.

As the Half-Golem bid farewell to his comrades, he cast one final gaze upon their gathered presence. With a sigh, he turned away, and the in-game console materialized before him, its screen opaque. Raising his right hand, he pressed something, and in an instant, he vanished, consumed by a brilliant burst of blue light.

The golden armoured dwarf was the next to go with a final wave. Subsequently, it was Green Tea Tsunami who raised a jellied tendril in a similar sign of farewell. One by one the group's numbers dwindled until it was only two who remained.

The bandage covered High Elf and the gold-scaled dragonoid.

"Well, it's been fun," Weeping Martyr spoke his chipper tone again returning to him. "Who knows, maybe once YGGDRASIL 2 comes out we all can pick up right where we left off."

"Yeah," the dragonoid nodded, "I'd like that."

Then in a blink and flash of light, Tiberius found himself standing alone on the escarpment once more.

For several long moments, he stood unmoving as he simply stared at the spot previously occupied by his friends. Then with a low sigh, he turned to look back out over the horizon taking note the sun had moved even lower.

"I guess I should get moving."

Raising his hand the same opaque screen appeared before him.

I could simply teleport back to the guild. Or perhaps since I'm being all nostalgic.

With a wave of the hand, the menu was changed. The new listing brought up a catalog of choices, each one offering a different means of reaching his intended destination. Scrolling through the list, he soon found what it was that he sought. With a simple tap of his taloned finger, his selection was confirmed.

Several yards away from the dragonoid the ground looked to shimmer and ripple like the surface of a lake on a sunny day. This was the effect of a summoning circle, a type of portal used to call forth a variety of things into being. Chiefly it was used by players for summoning creatures, particularly mounts.

The shimmering portal grew still for a moment before being upset. The fluid-like surface was flung upward by the passing of a large object.

This object raced into the air high above at great speed. It moved in an ever-widening spiral to a height of perhaps several hundred feet. Numerous times it circled before making a wide arc and began to slowly descend.

As it came to rest upon the spot of the now-closed summoning portal Tiberius was afforded a better look at what had come forth.

Behold the Spirit Dragon, a captivating creature of wonder.

Measuring a majestic twenty feet in length, this dragon boasted a robust body, akin to that of a horse, standing tall at six feet. Its sinuous form resembled that of a serpent, adorned not with the traditional scales but with an unexpected pelt of shimmering silver fur. Yet, traces of its reptilian heritage emerged along the underbelly, forelimbs, and hind limbs, where earthen-toned scales added a touch of ancient allure.

However, it was the dragon's head that truly defied expectations. Resembling that of a mammal, its features mirrored those of a canine, specifically a wolf. A black nose pad and short whiskers adorned its snout, while a pair of triangular, canine ears perked up and twitched with alertness. Just behind these remarkable ears, two-foot-long segmented horns jutted forth, with a tuft of vibrant green fur sprouting between them. This verdant mane cascaded along the length of the dragon's neck, following the graceful curvature of its spine until it culminated in a fluffy, eye-catching tuft at the tip of its tail.

In the presence of this extraordinary Spirit Dragon, one couldn't help but be enthralled by its harmonious blend of serpentine elegance, canine grace, and ethereal beauty. It stood as a testament to the boundless creativity and breathtaking diversity found within the realm of mythical creatures.

As with any role-playing-styled game, YGGDRASIL had too many creatures that players could acquire as mounts. This particular mount was gained after the completion of the Spirit World Crossover event.

Tiberius smiled though his face failed to register.

Sure this particular mount was rather common amongst players and its outdoor summoning animation was overly flashy and went on for too long. But it didn't matter to the dragonoid.

This mount was the first mount Tiberius had obtained and he felt a sense of achievement in doing so. Thus it held a certain level of nostalgic pride and was amongst his favorite mounts.

With the grace of a seasoned rider, Tiberius settled himself upon the creature's back, positioning himself just behind its powerful shoulders. His hands found purchase in the creature's fur, while his legs wrapped firmly around its body. All was in readiness.

A single tug on the dragon's reins elicited a magnificent response. With a mighty heave, the dragon arched its head backward, launching itself into the vast expanse of the sky. Its undulating body moved in a serpentine rhythm, reminiscent of the rolling waves of the ocean, as they soared through the evening heavens. Leaning his body weight and nudging gently with his right foot, Tiberius guided his mount, initiating a graceful turn.

Fields of wheat blurred beneath them, a swift panorama as they effortlessly traversed the air, akin to a bird in elegant flight. Casting a fleeting glance downward, Tiberius observed the small hamlet, now deserted as the non-playable characters sought refuge within their tightly shuttered houses.

Pressing his hands against the dragon's sturdy shoulders, Tiberius silently commanded it to descend. Obedient to his touch, their altitude gradually lowered, bringing them to a mere hundred feet above the ground as they approached the bustling city, ready to embrace their next adventure.

One final look.

As the final wagon caravans passed through the imposing city gates, Tiberius cast his gaze upon the high walls, where vigilant non-playable character (NPC) guards stood watch. Beyond the protective walls, the medieval cityscape unfolded, a labyrinth of alleyways embraced by stone and wooden structures. Unlike modern cities, there were no clear divisions or districts; instead, a seamless blend of architecture created an immersive environment.

Peering down from above, Tiberius couldn't help but marvel at the intricate details meticulously crafted by the game developers within the virtual world of YGGDRASIL. It wasn't just the impressive landscape; it was the profound depth infused into the AI programming of the NPC inhabitants, breathing life into the simulated cities.

Even from this vantage point, signs of bustling activity caught Tiberius' eye. Night guards patrolled the cobblestone streets, ever watchful for any signs of wrongdoing. Shopkeepers extinguished their lanterns, signaling the end of another day's business. In the shadowed alleys, black-market fences emerged from hiding, ready to engage with players of more illicit professions. However, tonight seemed to hold no potential customers for their dubious dealings.

Performing a low, sweeping pass over the city's open-air market square, Tiberius scanned the area, hoping to spot any lingering players. This vibrant square often attracted merchants looking to sell their goods or craftsmen seeking supplies. The market stalls occasionally housed players showcasing their own crafted items.

Yet, disappointment washed over Tiberius as he observed the deserted square, devoid of life. Only the empty vendor stalls stood in orderly rows, a stark reminder of the solemn atmosphere that had pervaded the city throughout the day and its preceding moments.

With no reason to linger, Tiberius adjusted his position on the Spirit Dragon's back. The majestic creature ascended higher and higher before gracefully changing direction, leaving the port city behind. From his seated perch, Tiberius turned his head for a final glance at the receding cityscape, satisfied with its state. With determination in his eyes, he focused on the path ahead, leaving the city to shrink into the distance.

o - o - o - o

Since departing the city, the pair had traversed a number of different landscapes. All of them acted as a testament to the sheer breadth the creators of this virtual world had bestowed upon it.

Currently, the Spirit Dragon carried him over the verdant grasslands and their gently rolling hills. The tranquil scenery was disrupted by the mighty river as it cut a swath through the landscape on its journey to unite with the sea.

By now the sun had all but retreated below the horizon with only the trailing light still lingering. Yet this was enough to illuminate the countryside.

To the north of the fields of green loomed the destination of his journey. Here stood the Whitewyrm Steppe Mountains, a great chain of mountains that overlooked the lands like guardians of the northern lands.

At the leading edge of this chain lies one mountain of particular interest.

It was here within this mountain that a guild member, ArtisticSeer, had discovered what would then become home to the Sanguine Dragons. It was the discovery of one of YGGDRASIL's legendary dungeons. These dungeons were incredibly rare and very difficult to clear, often possessing specific requirements. Yet the Sanguine Dragons had persevered and in their triumph had earned the guild's members a surprising amount of prestige amongst their peers.

This grand achievement of the guild was a testament to what they could accomplish together. It was something that never failed to make Tiberius beam with pride.

Dominating the valley, a towering monolith of stone beckoned Tiberius towards his destination.

Mount Drengrfold, as it was originally named, stood apart from its neighboring peaks, but the Sanguine Dragons had bestowed upon it a new title, one that reverberated with legendary status – The Pinnacle of Týrnaust. Soon, players adopted this name, and it spread like wildfire across the realm.

The mountain's appearance mirrored that of its brethren, a colossal wedge of granite soaring to a staggering height of thirteen and a half thousand feet. Its summit, crowned with a mantle of snow, was often veiled by wisps of white clouds. The heavy snowdrifts created the illusion of a smoother surface, concealing treacherously sharp stone outcroppings beneath. From a bird's-eye view, the mountain's seven ridgelines fanned out like the roots of a grand tree, forming rocky foothills resembling the spokes of a wheel. While the mountain itself remained barren, the foothills were adorned with moss-covered boulders, patches of lichen, and clusters of scrub brush and fir trees.

Towards the mountain's southern face, high above, a portion of rock had been meticulously carved away, giving rise to a wide plateau approximately halfway up – around seven and a half thousand feet. This plateau served as the location of the final level of the Pinnacle of Týrnaust.

Yet, despite its seemingly exposed position, those who sought to bypass the perils and venture directly to the end would be sorely mistaken.

Attempting to scale the rock face revealed a web of deadly traps. Areas prone to avalanches unleashed snow tsunamis, ready to engulf and overwhelm climbers. In other sections, stone collapses sent massive slabs hurtling down, crushing all unfortunate souls below. These boulders, magically enhanced, bypassed protective barriers and exploded upon impact, unleashing devastation upon the unwary.

But what if players chose to employ the [Fly] spell or relied on a flying mount?

Here, the shroud of clouds that enveloped the summit came into play, a magical defense of formidable power.

Those daring to take flight first encountered an impenetrable fog, rendering their vision nearly nonexistent. Next, a ferocious storm unleashed typhoon-force winds, supernaturally cold and accompanied by freezing rain that inflicted a debilitating paralysis debuff. Helpless against the gusts, players were battered against the unforgiving mountain stone before plummeting from the sky to meet a brutal fate upon the earth below.

And even the foothills held their own perils. Deep fissures lurked beneath the unstable ground, ready to swallow unsuspecting travelers, while steep trails added to the arduousness of the journey. Patrolling these areas were formidable creatures of the Pinnacle of Týrnaust, further heightening the risks that awaited.

These countermeasures ensured there was only one way to gain entrance to the dungeon – through the front gate, situated on Týrnaust's southern face, at the head of a horseshoe-shaped valley.

It was within this very valley that Tiberius found himself traversing. Forgoing flight, he had landed his mount at the valley's entrance and now rode along the winding dirt road, leading him closer to the mountain.

Their pace was purposeful, not languid, as the Spirit Dragon beneath him moved with an elegant gait, akin to a brisk jog.

The dirt road culminated at a stone bridge, spanning a narrow crevasse that measured thirty to forty feet across and plunged over a hundred feet deep. Here, Tiberius brought his mount to a halt, his gaze fixed upon the entrance to the mountain, anticipation mingling with a hint of trepidation.

In the shadow of the imposing mountain, a remarkable feature stood as the gateway to Týrnaust – the aptly named Grand Gatehouse.

Carved deep into the granite, the Gatehouse seemed as if the mountain itself had devoured much of this monumental citadel. Despite being dwarfed by the mountain's overwhelming presence, the structure soared to an impressive height of five hundred feet.

Comprised of three distinct levels that tapered as they ascended, each floor commanded a formidable stature. Yet, it was the bottom floor that reigned as the tallest and widest, an awe-inspiring sight to behold.

Standing before the stone stronghold, one's attention was immediately drawn to the colossal statues flanking the entrance. Hewn from raw stone, these magnificent guardians took the form of armour-clad knights, their imposing frames reached a towering height of one hundred feet. Clad in full plate armour, their helmeted heads were humbly bowed, an unspoken reverence etched upon their visages. Like silent sentinels, they directed their ever-watchful gaze upon any who dared approach the mountain. Gauntlet-clad hands firmly clasped the hilt of their downturned long swords, the tips of the blades embedded in the rock at their boot-clad feet. Cascading from their broad shoulders, capes billowed and concealed much of the statue's formidable figure.

The outer wall of the Grand Gatehouse's lowest level bore witness to three stone arches, rising from the ground to halfway towards the next floor. Atop each arch, an inset opening took the shape of a cross, adorned with a resplendent stained glass window. Within the recesses between each column, intricately engraved depictions unfolded. On the outer two etchings, armies clashed in a pitched battle, advancing from opposing edges to converge at the center. On the inner side, a majestic dragon perched upon a rock, projecting dominance as it surveyed the tumultuous scene below. The central archway housed the imposing main gates, towering fifty feet in height. Crafted from sturdy planks of dark wood, the doors bore belts of dark steel, reinforcing their strength. Runic markings adorned the metallic bands, set between star-headed rivets.

Above the arches, ramparts stretched across the width of the first level, safeguarded by a chest-high wall of robust stone. Evenly spaced stone blocks, known as merlons, punctuated the wall, offering arrow slits for defense against potential attackers. Set back from these protective battlements, the walls of the second level rose, sloping like a wedge that leaned outward over the ramparts below. This overhang provided a vantage point for the second-level battlements. Continuing upward, the walls of the third level exhibited elaborate embellishments, adorned with distinctive pleats that created a captivating wave-like pattern. The outer segments of the wall formed the foundation for a pair of towers, their summits merging seamlessly into the mountain stone above. The central section boasted another balcony, a decorative and observatory space, rather than a fortification. Only a modest waist-high cobblestone retaining wall offered a semblance of security. Behind this veranda, the mountain had been masterfully carved to resemble the trunk of the legendary world tree, Yggdrasil. The colossal stone trunk rose, its branches spreading out and intertwining with the mountain's rugged facade.

The Grand Gatehouse, with its sheer scale, breathtaking craftsmanship, and formidable guardians, stood as an awe-inspiring testament to the majesty and grandeur that awaited those who dared to enter the Pinnacle of Týrnaust.

The impressive sight gave the impression that perhaps this tree was holding the mountain at bay. Keeping it from finally devouring the fortress.

It never fails to impress. The devs sure put a lot into their designs. Can't imagine just how long they spent working on the model.

The dragonoid's gaze lingered a while yet before he took notice of how long he had been staring.

With a soft clink of armour, Tiberius dismounted from his loyal Spirit Dragon. His eyes lingered on the majestic silver-furred creature before it vanished in a burst of blue light, following the departure of his guildmates. Resigned to his mission, Tiberius turned towards the mountain and strode purposefully across the stone bridge.

As he approached, the grand cathedral-style doors of the Grand Gatehouse swung open, granting him passage into the magnificent main chamber.

This vast bottom level unfolded before him, stretching three hundred feet wide and half that in depth. The architectural design drew inspiration from classic Gothic cathedrals of Europe. Opposite the colossal entrance doors, a smaller staircase ascended to the next level. The floor boasted black marble embedded with luminous veins of white quartz. At the heart of the room lay a magnificent gold seal in the form of a heraldic shield, adorned with a winged sword. Encircling the chamber's perimeter, a vaulted cloister provided a sheltered walkway. Towering columns crafted from opaque crystal supported the cloisters, reaching up to the arched ceiling, a staggering height of a hundred and fifty feet. Overhead, a cluster of immense crystals hovered, radiating magical light that bathed the chamber in a soft, ethereal glow.

Yet, the room was far from bare. Magnificent banners adorned the columns, each measuring an impressive thirty-five feet in length and twenty feet in width. These vibrant banners displayed an array of colours and unique sigils, representing the individual members of the Sanguine Dragons. The style and trim of the banners denoted each member's rank and position within the guild.

A total of ninety-two banners adorned the chamber, one for each guild member. While time had led some members to depart the game, their banners remained, a solemn tribute to their lost comrades. The Sanguine Dragons had suffered the loss of thirty-five members, but the remaining fifty-seven persisted in their journey.

Though the sight of the banners was awe-inspiring, none could rival the grandeur of the largest of them all. Hanging opposite the entrance and above the stairwell, the flag of the Sanguine Dragons commanded attention.

Its size alone surpassed all others, but it was the design that truly captivated. Against a backdrop of fiery orange and a royal purple trim, an arcane circle took center stage. Within the circle, a fearsome five-headed dragon crouched, its heads representing breeds of red, blue, black, green, and white. Each head bore bared fangs and piercing eyes, emanating an intimidating gaze. The dragon's magnificent wings enveloped the edges of the circle, while before it rested a crystalline globe, containing the Yggdrasil world tree.

The level of detail lavished upon the dragon was breathtaking, lending it an almost lifelike quality. One could almost believe that the awe-inspiring creature would burst forth from its cloth prison at any given moment.

This dragon, known as Tiamat, had been chosen by the guild's founding members as the embodiment of their collective strength. Tiamat symbolized the merging of various dragon breeds into a new entity, a power greater than the sum of its parts. In the same vein, the Sanguine Dragons had united for a common purpose, growing stronger through their unity.

As Tiberius stood in the presence of Tiamat's resplendent banner, he felt the weight of the guild's legacy and the unity that bound them together. With resolve in his heart, he prepared to venture further into the Pinnacle of Týrnaust, guided by the spirit of the Sanguine Dragons.

At the closing of the oaken doors behind him, Tiberius strode forth into the room.

Within the silence of the room, the clank of his armour and the echoes of his footsteps may as well have been like cannon fire. Yet he continued onward until he came to stand atop the heraldic emblem at the center of the room.

Here the draconic player hesitated.

With a tilt of his head, his gaze lifted to take in the majesty of the magnificent tapestry hanging before him. His eyes traced over the design before shifting to look upon its smaller brethren.

My friends.

One by one he took in the various banners affixed around the room. With each banner, a name associated with it entered his mind. Names were promptly followed by their accompanying memories.

"Weeping Martyr, Charming Rock, Socrates Architect, Wiseman King, Artistic Seer, PR0PH3CY5H4X0R, ΩmenForcer, DeathWail, Wishmaster, Warrior Grave, Green Tea Tsunami, PunyTea Puddle, Gemcrawler…"

One by one the names of his comrades flowed from his lips and were cast adrift into the still air. He recited their names with purpose. As if by calling out to his friends, he might summon them back to this wondrous place that held such meaning for them all. Still, he knew it was not but false hopes as he spoke the final name.

I hate goodbyes.

Without another word, the dragonoid extended his right hand and his gaze fell to one of the five rings he wore.

Normally a player would only be allowed to equip two rings per hand. However, should a player be willing to pay a rather exorbitant fee for a certain permanent cash shop item. They would then be allowed to equip a full ten rings, one per finger, and use all their abilities at once. Of course, this decision was not without its consequences. Once the player had assigned the rings to be worn, the choice was irrevocable.

Still, to many, the trade-off was worth it. So this tactic was found to be used by the higher-tier players seeking to gain that extra advantage. After all, in a battle, it was sometimes the smallest of things that could make all the difference.

It was on his right index finger that Tiberius had equipped this particular ring.

The Dragon's Brand they had called it.

It was a ring crafted from unusual YGGDRASIL ore that held a gold luster and was shaped like a serpentine dragon coiled around the finger. Resting within the creature's fixed metallic jaws sat a fiery orange-red gemstone.

This specific ring, however, was not meant to aid in combat or anything like that. It was instead intended for a different purpose. That function being to circumvent the guild's anti-teleportation barriers.

The use of such barriers was a common defense strategy for guild bases. These barriers, when active, would prevent all unsanctioned teleportation into and within the dungeon itself. Thus the guild rings were required to allow their wearer freedom from these limitations. However, there were still some restrictions that couldn't be lifted. Such as the off-limit locations: the personal rooms of guild members, the guild treasury, and the throne room.

After a moment's pause, the translucent window appeared before Tiberius. He performed a simple hand gesture and the screen changed. Now on display was a basic depiction of the mountain and its various levels.

In its original configuration, the Pinnacle of Týrnaust possessed only six distinct levels placing it on par with YGGDRASIL's other legendary dungeons. This was changed after the Sanguine Dragons had conquered the dungeon and requisitioned it to be their headquarters. Through the use of real-world currency, the guild had purchased additional data storage pushing up the level cap threshold to fuel their extensive remodeling efforts.

At one point in the remodeling, the guild had talked of pushing the floor number to twelve or even more, but fell short and stopped at ten. The main reason for this was they had simply run out of ideas for further levels.

During the redesign, each floor was shaped to be unique amongst its fellows and it was Socrates Architect who had taken the lead. Inspiration had come to him after reading an old book about a man's journey from Earth to the underworld and then to the heavens. His idea was presented to the guild during one meeting and a vote was taken. Thus it was that the design was approved and Týrnaust was shaped into what it is today.

The Grand Gatehouse sat at the base of the mountain and was not technically considered to be a floor of the dungeon proper.

So the first true floor was the Undercroft. This level was given the aesthetic of a typical fortress dungeon.

The second floor was the Caverns, a labyrinthine network of pitch-black caves filled with lurking horrors.

The third floor is better known as the Enchanted Forest. This was a typical fantasy woodland bathed in perpetual twilight.

The Underworld was the name given to the fourth floor. This level was unique in that it was divided into four distinct biomes: desert, swamp, icy tundra, and mountains.

Next was the fifth floor, the Abyss. It was designed to be the very visage of a hellscape. Riddled with fire, ash, and the air was a poisonous fume.

Ascending came to the sixth floor, the Plains of Battle. Taking the form of an open field filled with tall ash-coloured grass and littered with the remains of wars long passed.

Heaven's Halls was the seventh floor. A floor that certainly lived up to its name as a glittering palace of angelic beauty.

Up from there came the eighth floor, the Celestial Spire. Designed to be a continuation of the previous floor, its interior twisting crystalline tower.

The ninth floor was not formally part of the dungeon. This particular floor served as the home for the Sanguine Dragons' ninety-two members. It is here they kept their private residences earning the floor the title of the Divine City.

Known as the Pinnacle, this was the tenth and final floor of the dungeon. A temple palace, it occupied the mountain plateau.

The dragonoid's eyes scanned over the listing of floors on offer. Selecting any one of them would bring up a submenu. This submenu would list all the predetermined teleportation sites available on that particular level. Typically each floor had at least seven of these sites to make it easier to move about the different floors.

However, this was not so for the floor that Tiberius had selected.

The Pinnacle, the lofty summit of the mountain guild base, boasted a mere two teleportation points, and Tiberius made his selection with a tap of his finger. In an instant, his surroundings transformed. No longer confined within the grandeur of the cathedral-like Grand Gatehouse, he now stood in an open-air courtyard, under the vast expanse of the night sky.

Tiberius tilted his head back, his eyes drawn to the heavens above – a ritual he had repeated countless times over the past twelve years. The remnants of sunlight had vanished, leaving the virtual sky devoid of its warm glow. Instead, a simulated moon hung in the sky, casting a cold, pale light upon the land. Behind it, the dark expanse of space was adorned with an infinite tapestry of twinkling stars. As someone intimately familiar with the night sky, Tiberius could discern the intricate patterns of the celestial constellations.

Yet, it was the awe-inspiring sight of ethereal nebulas that truly stole his breath away. These vast, amorphous collections of iridescent gases painted the night sky with vivid shades of green, purple, red, and blue, haunting the realm of Asgard.

Reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the celestial wonders above, Tiberius directed his attention to the plaza before him, curious to explore the area's mysteries that awaited.

The courtyard stretched out before Tiberius, spanning an impressive hundred feet in width. Its marble floor boasts a smooth, polished surface, exuding an air of elegance. At the heart of the courtyard, a grand stairwell beckoned, its majestic steps leading down to the enigmatic Ninth Floor below. The staircase itself was a colossal structure, wide enough to accommodate six men walking side by side with arms outstretched, and still leaving ample space. Embracing the opening of the staircase, a resplendent mosaic depicted a blazing star, an emblem of radiant power.

In each of the cardinal directions, unique features awaited exploration upon the plateau.

To the south, a vast balcony extended its reach.

A towering triumphal arch, standing at an impressive fifty-five feet in height, served as a majestic guardian, marking the entrance to the veranda beyond. Passing beneath the arch, Tiberius found himself on an ovoid-shaped balcony that sprawled across half the width of the courtyard. A low retaining wall traced the perimeter of the balcony, offering a sense of security amidst the breathtaking views. At the pinnacle of the ovoid curve, a three-step dais jutted out over the edge of the plateau, providing a vantage point that overlooked the sheer drop below.

As Tiberius took in the sights and possibilities that lay before him, he couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and curiosity. The courtyard and its cardinal directions held promises of adventure and secrets waiting to be unraveled. With determined steps, he ventured forth, ready to uncover the wonders that awaited him at each turn.

As Tiberius turned his gaze towards the east, he discovered a hidden gem within the courtyard – an enchanting botanical garden.

This lush oasis had been lovingly crafted by Superwurm, a guild member with an unwavering passion for all things green and growing. Her affinity for nature had inspired her choice to play as a druidic character, and she had adamantly advocated for the guild's need for a place of serene tranquility.

"Everyone deserves a touch of green to bring them peace," she had insisted.

During its creation, Superwurm had embarked on countless adventures across the realms, seeking out a diverse array of plants. At the heart of the garden stood a magnificent tree, its branches adorned not with leaves, but with cascading tendrils of soft pink blossoms – a mesmerizing blend of weeping willow and cherry blossom. Surrounding this ethereal centerpiece, an impressive assortment of flowering bushes thrived, creating a tapestry of vibrant colours.

Yet, the true masterpiece of the garden lay at its very core.

A unique plant, unlike anything else in the guild's sanctuary, commanded attention. Its sturdy stalks and delicate stems were crafted from shimmering jade, while its leaves bloomed with the radiant hues of emeralds. From these resplendent stems sprouted a stunning array of flowers, each one a marvel in itself. Roses of red rubies, dahlias of yellow sapphire, sunflowers of garnet, lilies of amethyst, tulips of lapis lazuli, orchids of opal – the garden boasted an extraordinary assortment of nature's treasures. This exceptional specimen had not been acquired through ordinary means; Superwurm had triumphed in a prestigious competition, claiming the grand prize and securing this botanical marvel as the crowning jewel of the garden.

In contrast, to the west of the courtyard stood the imposing Stronghold of the Valkyries.

Designed in the likeness of a Norse Ritual Building, or Stave Church, this fortress nestled into a carved alcove within the mountain stone. Serving as the dwelling for the guild's formidable last line of defense, each member of the seven-warrior women had been granted their own room within the stronghold. Immersed in their characters, the Valkyries' rooms had been meticulously decorated to reflect their unique tastes and personalities.

Finally, at the northern end of the courtyard, the grandeur of the Rotunda towered above all.

A grand staircase, boasting twenty-four steps on each side, led to a landing that rested between them, guiding visitors towards the awe-inspiring structure perched upon an elevated embankment. Built in the resplendent style of Greco-Roman architecture, colossal marble columns supported the majestic triangular pediment. Within the pediment's stone tympanum, a masterfully sculpted frieze depicted all ninety-two guild members, standing shoulder to shoulder in a display of unity and strength. Rising proudly at the rear of the edifice, a tower reached towards the heavens, crowned by a magnificent dome that seemed to touch the very sky.

The courtyard unfolded before Tiberius, a realm of wonder and diverse wonders awaited his exploration. With eager anticipation, he embarked on a journey to delve into the secrets and marvels that each direction held, ready to be immersed in the extraordinary tales woven within this extraordinary guild base.

The dragonoid expressed his satisfaction with a small grunt before beginning to climb the stairs.

The Rotunda's towering doors loomed before Tiberius, their immense slabs of pure titanite commanding attention. As his gaze traced the intricate Damascus steel-like patterns adorning the metal, he couldn't help but marvel at the rarity and value of this sought-after material. Titanite, renowned for its unique patterning, exuded a sense of prosperity that spoke volumes about the guild's status. Only a guild of great wealth and power could afford such lavishness, though there were dissenting voices within the Sanguine Dragons who saw the doors as a wasteful use of precious resources.

With a fluid motion, the heavy metal monoliths swung open on their robust hinges, revealing the grandeur that awaited within the Rotunda. The corridor stretched sixty feet ahead before giving way to a spacious chamber of opulence. Golden chandeliers adorned the arched ceiling, casting a warm and luminous glow over the entire expanse. Underneath, the polished floor gleamed with the brilliance of blue sapphire, reflecting the radiant light above. Adding a touch of regality, an emerald green carpet with delicate gold trim adorned the pathway.

To either side, obsidian columns rose, encircled by elegant silver coils that spiraled upward. These pillars punctuated the hallway, creating alcoves between them. Within these alcoves, statues stood, each one a masterpiece in its own right.

The left side of the hall showcased a row of statues that exuded a menacing aura, each embodying a different monstrous form. These grotesque figures, reminiscent of demons, oozed with savage ferocity. Despite their diverse appearances, they shared a common pose. Their arms stretched outward, clutching crystal skulls in their clawed hands. The skulls, with their jaws wide open in eternal silence, emitted an eerie violet glow that sent shivers down the spine.

In stark contrast, the opposite wall displayed sculptures of unparalleled beauty and ethereal grace. These statues radiated serenity, their features adorned with a gentle kindness. Like their demonic counterparts, their arms were extended, but instead of skulls, they cradled celestial busts of stars. From these heavenly orbs, a warm and comforting glow emanated, enveloping the surroundings with a sense of peace.

Advancing through the corridor, Tiberius finally entered the magnificent heart of the Rotunda – the Throne Room.

The dragonoid stepped into the Throne Room, an awe-inspiring space that enveloped him with its grandeur. A massive hemispherical chamber, a hundred feet in diameter, stretched before him, its domed ceiling soaring to twice that width. Supporting the colossal dome were pillars and buttresses that encircled the room, their imposing presence adding to the majestic atmosphere. On the western side of the chamber, a discreet passageway beckoned, leading to the Guild Council Chambers and the towering Orrery Tower nestled behind the Rotunda.

Yet, as impressive as the room itself was, all eyes were irresistibly drawn to its central marvel.

Suspended from the apex of the domed ceiling hung an immense chain, its transparent links forged of glistening diamond. Each link surpassed the height of the dragonoid and equaled his stature in width. From ceiling to floor, the chain stretched, disappearing through a triangular opening in the ground. Through that aperture, a radiant beam of light shone, illuminating the diamond links and transforming them into a breathtaking display of sparkling brilliance, a dance of light that seemed to play across the chamber's lofty ceiling.

Flanking the colossal chain on either side stood a pair of equally remarkable statues.

These were majestic dragons, their horned heads raised high, nearly grazing the ceiling. They sat with regal poise, their powerful wings folded neatly against their sides, and their sinuous tails wrapped securely around their feet. The column of light cast a resplendent glow upon the metallic scales that adorned their bodies, while the gemstones embedded in their forms seemed to emit a mesmerizing radiance. Such meticulous attention to detail brought these dragon statues to life, endowing them with an almost tangible presence.

A short distance away from the dragons, another pair of stone sculptures waited patiently.

These were dragon-headed knights, donned in full plate armour, genuflecting reverently before their larger, pure-blooded kin. Though smaller in stature, the knights were still colossal in size. Each warrior knelt upon a stone plinth, their heads bowed, and their backs bent in deference. Towering before them, embedded in the stone, were longswords, their blades plunged deep into the ground. Gauntlet-clad hands grasped the crossguard of each sword, holding them firmly in place.

Even the pedestals on which the armoured figures knelt were meticulously crafted. At first glance, they appeared to be a collection of ordinary rocks. However, upon closer inspection, one would discover that each round stone had been painstakingly carved into the likeness of a damaged helmet. When seen as a whole, the pedestals gave the impression of the knights kneeling atop a hillock composed of defeated foes' helms.

These statues were not mere decorative pieces. They concealed powerful golems of the highest caliber, each boasting a level close to 90. Although dormant for now, they stood as stalwart defenders of the Throne Room, ready to spring into action should any intruders breach this sacred space.

Situated between the noble knights and the majestic dragons, a small raised platform commanded attention. It consisted of three concentric rings, slightly offset from one another, forming a dais with three steps to ascend or descend. Atop the highest podium, an extraordinary throne awaited.

Towering over ten feet in height, the throne was a breathtaking sight to behold. Carved from a single block of auroracite, a gemstone renowned for its mesmerizing beauty, it shimmered with radiant luminescence. Like a captured aurora rendered in crystalline form, the stone emanated an array of ever-changing colours. Hues of blue, green, purple, pink, and red swirled and danced beneath the surface, creating a captivating spectacle that fascinated all who beheld it.

The Throne Room was the undisputed pinnacle of Týrnaust, a testament to the guild's splendor and power.

The redesigning of the levels had been a simple enough matter. This floor, however, had posed a problem. At the time there had been much disagreement over just what they should do. Several weeks had passed and during it, many proposals had been put forth. But eventually, a consensus was achieved and a plan was put into action. All told it took the guild several months to gather the necessary resources.

But it was all worth it. Looking back it seemed so difficult at the time. A small chuckle of mirth came from the dragonoid's throat.

If only we had known what lay ahead of us after that.

With a wistful sigh, Tiberius shuffled along the narrow emerald carpet and deeper into the Throne Room. The gentle clink of his armour echoed while the carpet cushioned the sounds of his footsteps.

Drawing closer to the center of the room his attention was garnered by something other than its natural splendor.

Hmm, I wonder who brought them in here.

Standing assembled before the throne dais were those NPCs responsible for the last line of defense, the Valkyrie unit. The all-female team stood in silent attention, their postures stiff and proper.

Looking them over, Tiberius tried and failed to grasp the names his guildmates had bestowed upon them. Instead, he turned to an alternative method. Reaching out his hand, the dragonoid again navigated the in-game menu. Searching through the directories until he came to a menu having to do with guild options, a page accessible only by members.

A quick look through revealed the setting he had been seeking. With a swipe, the option was activated and the NPC names became apparent in his now-active HUD.

Synnova, Gairwyn, Shar're, Pyria, Ifni, Eudeira, and Ryoko.

He read their names silently.

A diverse group of warrior women recruited from an assortment of races. Draklyn, Birdman, Draegloth, Half-Celestial, Half-Fiend, Banshee, and Kitsune with appearances just as equally varied.

After all, a Draklyn appeared near-physically identical to a typical human while the Birdman was a hybrid of human and avian features, and the Draegloth was a dog-headed four-armed monster. Although there was one trait, the seven of them shared in commonality, and that was the care taken to shape them into the paragon of that particular race's ideal beauty.

With the group came a variety of equipment.

One wore a set of armour akin to those worn by the ancient Roman Legionnaires. Another was adorned with a set similar to those of the legendary samurai warriors of the era's past. Another wore something that could hardly even be referred to as armour. But for all, there was one piece of equipment that they lacked and that was any sort of head covering.

Too bad we never got to see them in action. I wonder just how they would've performed in a real fight.

His inspection finished, Tiberius continued along the carpeted path laid out before him. As he passed the Valkyries responded with a predetermined action that set each one bowing in turn.

After twenty feet or so the dragonoid had reached the foot of the throne podium. Here three more NPCs stood waiting patiently.

While the Valkyries would have considered it a rare sight within the Throne Room. These three were regular fixtures within that particular space. To know them the dragonoid had no need to read the floating text for he knew them well.

Furthest from the throne and standing upon the lowest tier was an odd little creature. A bipedal reptile known as a Kobold.

Kip, his name was – a charismatic figure with a reptilian charm that captivated all who encountered him. Standing at a modest height of four feet, Kip's lithe and sinewy frame stretched to nearly seven and a half feet from snout to tail. His rust-coloured scales shimmered in the light, adding a touch of regality to his appearance. He stood on digitigrade legs with lizard-like feet, each adorned with four sharp-clawed toes. His head, reminiscent of a dragon yet possessing an oddly canine-like snout had a bit of an overbite. This gave him a somewhat snaggle-toothed appearance with the exposed upper set of dagger-like teeth. Atop his head, he was crowned by two short horns. But it was his silver-coloured catlike eyes that truly sparkled, always seemingly filled with a mischievous delight.

And what an outfit Kip wore, a testament to his flamboyant personality.

A white shirt with puffy, long sleeves and a wide neck hugged his torso, while vambraces made of wyvern leather adorned his forearms. Over the shirt, he sported a resplendent golden vest and a vibrant red mage's robe, accentuated by a jade-green half cape cascading gracefully over his right shoulder. The cape's edges were embroidered with sky-blue thread, secured by a silver pin resembling a hand holding a dagger. His legs were adorned in deep royal purple slacks, stylishly bloused around his ankles, leaving his feet unencumbered. But it was the pièce de résistance of his attire that drew the most attention – the turquoise-coloured beret perched atop his head, adorned with a single large plume of a rainbow-coloured feather. Two small holes in the fabric allowed his horns to poke through, adding a touch of whimsy to his ensemble.

Of course, one could not miss the lute slung across his back – a constant companion and a symbol of his role as the guild's official bard and messenger. With his musical prowess, Kip enchanted his allies, bestowing upon them powerful buffs, while simultaneously diminishing the strength of their opponents with his debuffing melodies.

His creation came as the Sanguine Dragons were role players at heart. So to them, it seemed only natural that there would be a bard in the court. So when the guild member in charge of that task unveiled their creation, it was rather surprising.

Even now Tiberius could recall Wizart's retort when asked about it.

"I love the combination of something unexpected. I mean a kobold bard, who would ever think of such a fusion? Besides just look at him with that little hat. He's just so friggin' cute!"

Recalling the memory brought out a chuckle from the draconic player.

Wizart was one who had always loved to create such out-of-the-ordinary combinations. Several times they had reset their character build just to try out some new class mixture which had come into their mind.

Ninja Chef was perhaps one of the more amusing combos that they had created.

Standing proudly on the intermediate tier was none other than Mathias.

Mathias, a tall figure standing at seven feet even, was a head shorter than the dragonoid. His athletically muscular physique was concealed under an elegant ensemble – a silken white button-up shirt tucked into charcoal grey slacks, complemented by a fine vest with buttons of gleaming silver. His polished loafers, paired with spats, completed the refined look.

But it was his spell caster's robe that truly caught the eye. A coal-black cloak adorned with a thorn-covered vine clasp which formed the looping infinity emblem. The collar was lined with a thick border of black raven and red robin feathers. Inside, crushed red velvet provided luxurious comfort, while the outside was adorned with intricate silver swirls. The deep hood, embroidered with golden flames, concealed Mathias' head, adding an air of mystique to his presence.

With hands clad in elegant white gloves, exuded an aura of poise and charm. In one hand, he held a meticulously crafted cane of lacquered cherry wood, its surface gleaming with a lustrous sheen. Atop the cane rested the exquisite bust of a robin, carved from a vibrant ruby, adding a touch of opulence to his already refined appearance.

Yet, his most striking and eerie feature was not his impeccable attire, but his unique physical appearance.

Bearing a wolven skull upon his shoulders, the unnerving yet mesmerizing sight was both haunting and intriguing. The amethyst-colored flesh of his neck connected seamlessly to the skull, adorned with countless minuscule scales that shimmered under the light. The skull itself was polished and devoid of flesh, its hollow eye sockets lit by twin pinpricks of scarlet light.

As if that wasn't enough to captivate onlookers, two pairs of horns adorned the skull. The first pair, knotted and projecting backward for about a foot, emerged from the top of his head through holes in his hood. The second pair, positioned more to the sides, resembled sleek blades curving like a ram's horns, running parallel to his lower jaw. The juxtaposition of elegance and uniqueness made Mathias an unforgettable presence in any room he entered.

He was a being that inspired both wonder and dread, defying the conventions of the Fae race to which he belonged. For he was an extraordinary being known as a Fae Abomination, a creature born of the forbidden union of a demon and a Fae. According to YGGDRASIL lore that is.

As far as Tiberius could remember, Mathias' creator fashioned him after a character from a manga series.

Despite his imposing presence and distinctive appearance, he had been crafted to fulfill the crucial position of Chief Attendant. In this esteemed role, Mathias was dedicated to providing unwavering support and assistance to the members of the Sanguine Dragons in their diverse endeavors.

Chief Attendant, just sounds like a fancy way of saying secretary. Though he seemed more of a butler. Ah well, he's certainly helped out over the years. Especially with the newer members.

With measured steps, Tiberius approached the last NPC standing beside the throne of shimmering crystal. As he drew nearer, the dragonoid realized that his towering height brought him nearly eye-level with the captivating figure before him. Yuliana, the Guardian Overseer, inclined her head gracefully to accommodate the difference, her smile unwavering in its pleasantness as she awaited his commands.

Exotic and alluring, Yuliana possessed an otherworldly beauty that captivated the senses. Her sun-kissed complexion conveyed a soft tan, accentuating her athletic yet curvaceous figure, complete with a generously endowed chest that effortlessly drew one's gaze. Her face, adorned with delicate features, showcased luscious lips and entrancing almond-shaped eyes, the colour of creamy jade. Cascading down to her shoulders, her dark hair was styled with feathered elegance, while loose bangs gently brushed to the side, partially veiling her left eye.

Clad in a sky-blue Doric peplos that gracefully faded to white at the edges, Yuliana's attire exuded a sense of ethereal charm. The full-length gown, secured by a golden ring at the shoulders, allowed the fabric to flow freely, its long sleeves cascading from her elbows and swaying gently as she moved. A golden rope cinched the peplos at her waist, tied slightly off-center, with loose ends playfully dangling. Embroidered with a wave-like pattern in vibrant green thread, the gown carried an enchanting touch.

But appearances were merely a veil, concealing the true nature that lay beneath her alluring facade. Yuliana's current form was but a guise she assumed to blend in amongst the courtly surroundings. In reality, her true self manifested as an immense serpent, her elongated body stretching twenty-five feet in length with the width of a large man's shoulders. Uniform dark tan scales adorned her serpentine form, except for a captivating display along her spine. Irregular diamond-shaped patterns adorned her back, their hues ranging from white to brown, yellow, and black, creating a mesmerizing mosaic. And where a snake's head would be expected, Yuliana sported a scale-covered humanoid torso, lean and powerfully built. Extending from her elongated neck was a cobra-like head, its jade-green eyes glistening with a mix of intrigue and ancient wisdom.

This was Yuliana, the Deceptive Beauty, the Guardian Overseer, an enigmatic presence that embodied both allure and strength, concealing depths of power and knowledge that surpassed mere appearances.

The dragonoid lingered as he looked upon her for several moments more before turning away.

Beyond her, the throne stood tall, shimmering and its colour shifted from blue to green. Tiberius paused before the regal seat then turned back around, his eyes looking out over the chamber. Fiery irises shifted as his gaze swept down the length of the grand foyer to the set of titanite doors at its end. Then back down, he looked over the faces of the room's occupants.

I know they're just simple AI routines. But still, it bothers me to lose them like this. This isn't some glorious battle defending the guild. It's just … just someone somewhere flipping a switch. He sighed, but I guess it was inevitable.

"I thank you all for your service."

The words echoed across the stillness of the room before fading away. Fading away just as all it would at the stroke of midnight. So it was that his words were not meant solely for those NPCs gathered and stood unfazed before him. But also for those who were absent, his friends.

With practiced ease, he lowered himself onto the throne, taking his habituated place. As he raised his hand, a pair of menus opened before him.

He scanned over the list of names on the left menu. Each of the many names was solidly greyed out denoting their status as being offline.

So I am the last one, huh?

The dragonoid groaned and slumped back into his seat. On some level, he had hoped that perhaps at least one of those on that extensive list would've still been online. Maybe they had simply forgotten to do something and had come back. Or perhaps they were spending time with other friends at one of the many farewell celebrations currently happening.

If they had been, he could've spent these last moments in YGGDRASIL enjoying a pleasant conversation and the companionship of a friend.

Lazily the dragonoid swiped his left hand through the air causing one of the opaque menus to vanish from sight. Providing more room, the menu once relegated to the right now adjusted itself to occupy the center of his view. Another swipe and new categories were displayed – he again swiped the opaque screen until the display brought up that of his personal inventory screen.

On this menu, there were numerous subcategories with various options with which to arrange the listings. Currently, the selection was alphabetically arranged. This certainly made searching for desired items much easier.

A quick scroll down and the item he sought after was found.

Bag of Gold (12). An infinitesimal offering by comparison to what the guild had been bringing in for quite some time.

Highlighting the listing, a number of choices were offered on how to proceed. From these, he selected the transfer option. There was hardly a moment's delay before the bag of gold was taken from his inventory and deposited into the guild's treasury.

"Quest complete," Tiberius recited.

With another flick of the hand, the menu was closed out. Yet not before he had caught sight of the time listed in the corner. According to what it had said little over an hour still remained before the shutdown was to occur.

Leaning back further into the kingly chair, the draconic player allowed his arms to hang rather lifelessly from the sides of the armrests. His reptilian head shifted as he stared blankly at the ceiling high above. As boredom began to set in, Tiberius sought refuge in memories.

So many memories, some more deeply engrained than others began to bubble to the surface.

He recalled the day he had first logged into the game's servers and was introduced to the character creation system. As someone who enjoyed these types of games, he was no stranger to such a thing. However, he'd never before seen so many choices. So many combinations were available that it was practically overwhelming to the point where he almost as quickly logged off. This was his first indication that YGGDRASIL was not going to be the typical game. Such an understanding prompted him to do more research before returning to the game. After that, he created his character and has been playing with it ever since.

Looking back at the first encounters he had with those individuals who would later become his friends.

How they crossed paths and approached each other. How simple and brief conversations progressed into friendly banter and time just seemed to disappear. The arranging of their initial meet-up and organizing a dungeon raid. After having several of those under his belt came the monumental day when the eleven of them decided to create an official guild.

From events played out as a whirlwind of activity.

With the formation of the Sanguine Dragons, a whole new host of quests had been opened to them. As time passed new members were added to the registry and with them, the guild rose to new prominence. It also was about that time that Tiberius and his fellow guildmates had really begun to shell out the cash. Almost two-thirds of the guild could've been classified as big spenders. It seemed that the money fled from their pockets just as quickly as it entered. It was a common joke at the time how they were single-handedly supporting the game with all their purchases.

A wide variety of achievements followed and not all of them were strictly in-game. A few of the guild's members actually got married. Four of these individuals had gotten married to their fellow guild members.

Oh, the party they'd thrown for the lucky couples in the game.

A smile came to the draconic player as he remembered the jovial attitudes and the celebratory chatter. Firework displays, jokes, tournament games, and gifts. Some of them were actually quite rare items.

Then came the memory of the day when that dreadful announcement was made that YGGDRASIL would be shutting down.

With the news came such an influx of emotions, sadness then anger came before giving way to simple resignation. After putting so much time and energy into this world, it had become just as real to him as everyday life.

It was almost like losing a close friend.

"We shared such great times here," the dragonoid grumbled with a melancholy tone, "I really am gonna miss this place."

After the Sanguine Dragons had pulled themselves out of the doldrums, they really pulled out the stops and put their nose to the grindstone. If YGGDRASIL was going to be ending then they decided to go out with a bang.

For months preceding the shutdown, the guild pulled off marathon gaming sessions. Some of these sessions ran for a full twenty-four hours of non-stop raiding and questing. A number of the guild's members even made use of vacation time to get away from work and put more time in-game. Tiberius was one of them.

To fulfill this the guild had taken up every challenge they could. This included competing in several major tournaments that had crept up. Although it was unintended, the Sanguine Dragons managed to even settle some old scores with a number of rivals.

The guild traversed the Nine Realms, venturing into every dungeon that crossed their path. All in an effort to bring more glory to the Sanguine Dragons.

For their collective efforts, the Sanguine Dragons saw their guild gain more prominence on the leaderboards. Little by little the guild climbed the ladder of success as their rank went higher than it ever was before. Yet dungeon-crawling could only do so much, and the momentum of progress began to stall out.

So, the guild decided to take on a new approach. This was when the vote was cast to begin raiding other guilds.

But to rob other players of their accomplishments so close to the end was a notion that didn't sit well with some of the guild's members. In response, another vote was brought forward. This one was to focus on abandoned guild bases and omit any guild that had even a single member still active. The vote was relatively close but it passed in the end.

In the following weeks, the Sanguine Dragons conquered one guild base after another. As a result, their rank began once more to soar like a shooting star. As an added benefit came a flood of treasure that swelled the guild's coffers to unimagined heights.

How ironic it was that only now, in the dwindling days of YGGDRASIL that they made their greatest achievements.

Unfortunately, those triumphs would soon disappear like tears in the rain.

Sprawling out on the throne, Tiberius could almost feel these memories of the past pressing down on him like a terrible weight. He felt great reluctance to let go of something that had meant so much to himself and others.

If only we didn't have to. If we just had a little more time. I wish we could've kept going.

The dragonoid yawned as he felt the energy seemingly being drained out of him. Perhaps the events of the day and those days past were catching up to him. His eyelids grew heavy, his breathing slowed becoming more drawn out. Then like a light being switched off, he was out of it, falling asleep on the throne.