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was pretty sure that was Ialdir—as the only American in the raid, he was easy to recognise. “That egg sac on the first Sentinel phase really sucked.”

“And somebody chained poison through the melee,” said Bjorn in his stern voice. “I’ve checked the logs and you know who you are, but there’s no point naming names, and it wouldn’t have happened if you’d all been properly positioned.”

Jargogle’s stern voice was way sterner than Bjorn’s. “Now listen here, young man. It’s all very well for you and your fire-flinging friends, but when four of you attack a tiny egg sac you stand close together.”

“Okay, guys,” interrupted Morag. “It was a difficult situation but there’s things we can learn from this. Melee, you do need to pay more attention to the venom, and Bjorn, you have to stop talking like a primary school teacher.”

“All right, message received. Now anybody who wants loot put their hand up.”

There was nothing Ella needed from Arachnia, so Drew opened a window and got himself another glass of Dr Pepper. Anni had basically got that fight down a few months ago and anyone who chained poison through anything would have been reamed out by the raid leader. On the other hand, as Morag had said, they’d pulled through pretty impressively, and it had actually been fun in a slightly knuckle-whitening way.

One of the problems with raiding was that, after a while, it began to be a chore rather than a challenge. These fights had become so routine to him, they’d stopped being interesting. But learning to work with a whole new team made them come alive again.

Morag jumped up and down for attention. “Okay guys, it’s half nine. We can call it here if you like, but we’ve got plenty of time to take a couple of cracks at Vilicus. We probably won’t get him down this evening, but we might as well get some practice in.”

“I’m game,” said Ialdir, “but I need to help Stefan put the kids to bed.”

Bjorn sneered down Mumble. “This is so typical of you, Jacob. Having a family and a life and priorities outside raiding. Such a liability.”

[Raid][Ialdir]: brb

[Raid][Morag]: Okay everyone, back in 20 minutes. Or else.

[Raid][Caius]: Grabbing a cuppa

[Raid][Prospero]: Two sugars for me

[Raid][Dave]: bio break

[Morag] whispers: Doing okay?

To [Morag]: yeah, having fun

[Morag] whispers: It’s really good to have you along

To [Morag]: thx

Drew took a sip of his Dr Pepper. He wasn’t used to being checked in on. It was, well, it was nice. Normally he’d have spent this time browsing the forums and reading tanking blogs to keep up on the latest strats, but he didn’t want to miss any chat, so he found himself glancing round the raid group to see what everyone else was doing.

Solace had run up one of the sheets of webbing and was balanced precariously at the top, her wings shimmering in the deep blue-green light. Ella ran up to join her.

To [Solace]: hi

[Solace] whispers: we have to stop meeting like this

To [Solace]: you mean at the top of arachnia’s web in the middle of CoT?

[Solace] whispers: hee

To [Solace]: enjoying the view?

[Solace] whispers: I suddenly realised I’d never been up here

Drew zoomed in and out and spun his camera around. He’d never been up here either. Now he came to look at it, someone had put a lot of love into this place. Arachnia’s chamber was a tall dome like the inside of a pepperpot, the walls crisscrossed with webbing as intricate as old lace. Cocooned bodies were strung in spirals from floor to ceiling.

To [Solace]: omg, there’s a dead kobold up there.

To [Solace]: look at its little feet poking out

Drew put his head in his hands. That had been about as suave as one of the suave options in Alpha Protocol. Here he was, with a cute girl at the top of an enormous spiderweb, talking about dead kobolds.

[Solace] whispers: Ohmigod, kobold feets!

[Solace] whispers: Is it wrong I find that cute?

To [Solace]: probably

[Solace] whispers: hee

At dead-on twenty minutes, Morag called the raid together and they climbed out of Arachnia’s domain and into the Halls of the Torturer.

[Yell][Tortured Victim]: AHHHH! NO! MAKE IT STOP!

[Yell][Vilicus]: Be grateful. To live is to suffer. To suffer is to live.

They passed beneath another archway of thorns and roses into a fairly generic tower of crumbling stone, and fought their way through Vilicus’s twisted, tortured guards.

“You know what I don’t get?” mused Dave.

Magda: “I keep thinking I do, but there always turns out to be something else.”

“What I don’t get,” Dave