Nero Walker, Book 3 Ch.68 (183) (Patreon)

Dorchester’s entire council of leadership was present, although very few actually wanted to be there. They were called in for yet another emergency session for one of City Lord Cosgrave's schemes. And, of course, no one was surprised by the fact that it was once again about the illustrious new Lord Walker, who had now been upgraded in class again. One would think that having him no longer part of the ladder would finally put their minds at ease, but that seemed like wishful thinking.

Lord Voltan rubbed his head in irritation as Lord Bennings droned on and on about the proper way for a city to conduct itself with unique citizens. She covered the relevant accords and the local customs which had been agreed upon during the city’s founding. She then went into great detail about how Lord Walker had divested his interests, transferring his newfound wealth to the budding house Verena, skillfully avoiding a single valen in taxes. Whether or not she was praising or condemning the young lord wasn’t clear, and no one cared enough to ask.

Glancing over at the city lord, he almost sneered at how obvious she was being. Since the beginning of the meeting, she hadn’t said a word. It was like she assumed they’d all forget she was the one who called the hells be damned thing if she kept her mouth shut. ‘She really believes she is that much smarter than us,’ he thought with some amusement.

These were the kind of meetings he hated. It was obvious Cosgrave, Bennings, and Branson had already come up with a plan, and now they were preemptively arguing their position. Which of course was pointless, as he and the other Lords couldn’t care less about how they planned to deal with Lord Walker. He was no longer part of their city. At worst, he was an inconvenient guest. At best, a helpful visitor they could throw at their problems.

Looking around, he coincidentally locked eyes with Lord Peyton. They shared a look of commiseration before Peyton turned back to continue listening to Lord Bennings’ briefing.

Turning to his right, he saw that Lord York wasn’t even pretending to listen. He was slouching in his chair, arms folded with his eyes closed. He looked to be thoroughly engrossed in something on his link that only he could see.

Lord Voltan noticed that Lord Bennings was coming to the summation portion of her presentation. ‘Thank all the gods in the heavens,’ he thought to himself in relief.

“It is due to these accords that we can formalize Dorchester’s relationship with Lord Walker. Unfortunately, as council heads, you all need to sign the quest issuance. As requested by General Branson, Mage-adept Newbanks has developed several quests that take advantage of Lord Walker’s talents while ensuring that the kingdom, and not Dorchester, pays the quest rewards.”

At that moment, Mage-adept Newbanks stood up from the chair reserved for court mages, waving her hand and delivering the packets she’d prepared to each of the noble’s tables.

Mildly interested, Lord Voltan picked up the packets filled with quest papers and started reading. As expected, the overly dramatic wording and countless references to the governing accords made for an incredibly dull read.

Mage-adept Newbanks’ calm voice filled the hall, “There are three quest paths that I’ve been asked to develop. The first is purely a request for Lord Walker’s support with efforts to pierce the kobald’s illusion screens. He would be based out of the Tower of Magic, and aid the mages there with their war efforts. The second is General Branson’s idea. It allows for Lord Walker to join army units doing search and clear missions throughout the mountain. The third is my personal recommendation and has the support of Arch-mage Jennings. The quest will be for Lord Walker to aid our forces in storming the mountain.”

While Lord Voltan looked over the quests, he couldn’t help but wonder what these fools were trying to do. There just didn’t seem to be a reason for all this fuss. ‘They just finished covering up their mistakes, and here they are scheming again,’ he thought.

Lord Peyton, after reviewing the quest packets, tossed them back down at the table in disgust.

Lord York, still ignoring everyone in the room, didn’t even bother opening his eyes. His packet sat on his desk unopened and unread.

Mage-adept Newbanks’ eyes panned across the room, she could see that the council heads were not happy with what they were seeing. As she had only been involved in the creation of one of these plans, she merely raised an eyebrow and stared at the city-lord with her patented ‘I told you so’ look.

Feeling like it was up to him to voice the obvious, Lord Voltan spoke up. “So, let me see if I understand all this,” he said while turning to glare at the city lord and the general. “You two were worried about how Lord Walker feels about his time in our delightful city. Specifically how you both went out of your way to play games with him and allowed people to try and assassinate him left and right. Then after he publicly bested you, over and over again, he was promoted to unique. A promotion he earned by being so exceptional that General Branson’s forces personally filled out the paperwork without bothering to tell him.”

Both the general and the city lord were frowning at the not-so-silent rebuke.

Lord Voltan smiled at their expressions and continued, “So, now that Lord Walker is a unique, and out of your control, you want to manipulate the quest system to have the kingdom pay him off. But, you know that you need him, so you can’t just give him the reward without getting what you can out of him. So, you two once again got to planning, and are now trying to refocus the entire war effort with him as a figurehead. You think you can maneuver him into believing it all rests on his shoulders, and you hope that he will be influenced enough to go and get himself killed. Am I missing anything?”

Lord Bennings, obviously amused at Lord Voltan’s interpretation of events, replied, “I’ve tried to tell them that Lord Walker doesn’t care about them, but they refuse to believe he isn’t harboring some kind of irrational hatred for their previous efforts against him.”

Lord Voltan snorted a bit in laughter.

General Branson addressed the room, “The city lord and I share the opinion that Lord Walker is not nearly as forgiving as you all seem to believe. We need to make Lord Walker believe that saving Dorchester is worth his time. We, as a city, can’t afford to offer quest rewards nearly as high as what the kingdom can. Therefore, it is only logical to use the quest rewards system to the best of our ability, having the kingdom pay him to serve our interests.”

Mage-adept Newbanks, still standing in the center of the hall, said, “There is something to be said about the clever use of the quest system to aim Lord Walker at your enemies. However, the most basic facts are not in dispute. One, Lord Walker can do something you need. Two, he’s been at odds with the people in this room before. Three, half of Dorchester is thinking about what it would be like to join him as one of his adherents.”

Lord Peyton laughed loudly and shouted, “Who wouldn’t want to cut ties with everything and go off on an adventure? No more politics and business deals, just the wide-open path stretching out before you. I don’t blame them.”

Mage-adept Newbanks nodded and continued her pitch. “That’s why I think it’s best to give Lord Walker the adaptability he needs to see this through. Sticking him in the tower and paying him off is all well and good, but it doesn’t help us nearly as much as his active participation. But, we can’t just ask him to rejoin the army… he doesn’t trust them. So, that’s why I believe giving him a long-term goal with a massive payout is the best option. We can offer incentives for local objectives, but let the kingdom pay for the final victory over the mountain.”

Lord York finally opened his eyes and looked up from his lap. “I agree with the mage. The time for games is over. Lord Walker is a unique now. We’d be fools to still treat him like a local noble,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Lord Voltan sighed. He just couldn’t understand why they thought they had any control of the situation.

“Has anybody actually spoken to Lord Walker about all of this?” he asked.

Several people, including the city lord, the general, and Lord Bennings, all shared an uncomfortable look.

Lord Voltan glared at them all, then said, “This. This right here is why I hate half of you. You scheme and plot, simply for the sake of scheming and plotting. This entire meeting is pointless. Your plans are pointless. I’m not going to agree to anything until we hear from Lord Walker.”

“I agree!” shouted Lord Peyton. “The young man has made you all look like fools while gaining honor and accolades despite your interference. He obviously has plans of his own, and now he has the clout to see them through. From what I’ve heard, he’s a warrior of legend in the making, and I for one want to see what he can do without anyone interfering in his path.”

Surprisingly, Lord Voltan saw Lord York and Mage-adept Newbanks nodding along with him while listening to Lord Peyton’s outburst. ‘Perhaps we can salvage Dorchester’s relationship with the young man after all,’ he thought with a smile.

—--

Nero spun his chair around to face the large living room. Throughout the floor were several couches arranged in small circles around coffee tables. Twenty or so mercenaries were spread out enjoying their breakfast.

Cathleen, Keening, and Rose were the only ones paying attention to Nero, so they were first to stand up when he started his impromptu ‘court’.

Stepping up onto his chair in order to more easily be seen, Nero put his hands on his hips and adopted his signature smirk.

“OK, everyone. Let’s all gather around and figure out this whole adherent business,” he shouted just loud enough to get everyone’s attention.

In quick order, all the mercenaries stood up and organized themselves. Meanwhile, Academian Quincy and Scholar Idrius stood up and took their position on Nero’s right. Though, Nick and Vera remained seated at the table.

Nero felt a sliver of disappointment when he saw his friends easily letting themselves be replaced as his advisors, but he recognized why they were allowing it to happen. ‘Things change, responsibilities conflict, and friends move on,’ he told himself, remembering all the relationships that he’d lost through the vagaries of fate.

Easily shrugging off the dour feelings, Nero focused on the present. If the powers that be wanted him to form some kind of personal force, then that’s exactly what he’d do. But, he’d do it his way. He’d fall back on his many years of management experience. Between his tenure as a store manager and his brief stint in college as an online guild leader, he figured he had this in a bag.

Still standing on his chair, Nero looked out over the group of mercenaries. It was both disturbing and oddly satisfying to see them all looking at him with excitement and hope in their eyes. Now that he understood what an adherent meant, he could empathize with them a little.

This was a rare and exciting opportunity for them. It was like they were local security guards being given the opportunity to join the CIA or something. ‘They look like adventure junkies, just like me,’ he thought.

“So what we’re going to do is simple. I’ll be conducting interviews with you all, one by one. We’ll see how we get along, and talk about what you’re looking to get out of following me. As we’re eventually going to end up working in close quarters, I plan on doing these interviews in the open. I’m not going to go all noble on you, keeping secrets and hiding things that end up getting you all killed,” he said, using his ‘I may be your manager, but I’m still just one of the guys’ schtick he’d perfected over the years.

“Before we begin, let me tell you what I’m looking for. I’m putting together a team. An adventuring party. I’m sure that’s not news to you, as from what I’m told this is exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. However, the details of how I’m gonna run my crew are entirely up to me. So, I’ll be creating what I’ll henceforth be referring to as ‘The Walker Adventuring Company’,” he finished with a shout, holding his arms out his side as if he were presenting them with the greatest idea they’d ever heard.

Although he was met with confused stares, he didn’t care. Eventually, they’d all see what he was planning. ‘It’s going to be epic,’ he thought to himself with a smile.

“The W.A.C will have one primary purpose, and that is to seek out interesting events and places while making money and acquiring knowledge,” he said proudly, before pausing for a few seconds and amending his statement.

“OK. So three…. Three primary ‘purposes’?… Three primary aims! Adventure, money, and knowledge. Yes, that’s what I meant, and that’s what we’ll do. First, we’ll deal with the crap going on here in Dorchester, and get the nobles and the kingdom to pay us for our efforts. Then, when everything here is all good, we’ll take off and see the rest of the kingdom. We’ll fight the fights we want, and when we get ourselves in over our heads… we’ll run like hell and live to fight another day. I’m telling you all now so that you won’t be surprised in the future when you hear me scream, “Run away!”… I have absolutely no intention of dying for a worthy cause. I intend for us all to live to see things we’ve only read about in legends. I want to see all manner of cities, species, and sunsets. Who knows, maybe we’ll get to ride a dragon or two. It will be dangerous, but if we stick together… if we look out for each other… if we dedicate ourselves to the W.A.C., then we’ll get to live lives full of magic and wonder!” he declared loudly, holding his arms out in welcome while he tried to channel his inner nerd-herder.

Everyone was staring at him with varying levels of excitement, so he thought the speech went well enough. Although he doubted he’d instill the die-hard loyalty gaming guilds develop without putting in some effort, he hoped he was off to a good start. He was willing to do whatever it took to create a guild that would follow him blindly into danger, manage his affairs for him, and support his quest for adventure and magic, all while requiring as little personal effort from him as possible.

“Alright, let’s go one at a time. Feel free to sit down and take a load off. I doubt I’ll be maintaining much discipline outside of combat, so we may as well foster a casual attitude during our downtime. If all goes well, we’ll be considering each other family soon enough,” he said while stepping down and taking his seat.

Gesturing with his hand at Cathleen, he said, “Let’s start with the illimitable Cathleen Averett, the deadly femme fatale who hides in plain sight. Step up and introduce yourself, then tell everyone why you are interested in joining The Walker Adventuring Company.”

As the mercenaries dragged and rearranged the furniture, Nero looked over and gave Vera and Nick his best smile. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to care about Nero messing up their living room.

Shrugging off his failed attempt at annoying Vera, he locked eyes with Cathleen and nodded to her as if giving her permission to begin.

Cathleen stood tall, or as tall as a 5’6’’ woman could stand. Yet, her force of personality was more than enough to quiet the room and gather everyone’s attention.

“As I’m sure many of you know, I am an Averett. I come from a long line of exceptional warriors, from a culture dedicated to the pursuit of martial excellence. We are of the North, where the beasts own the land, and we fight for our right to exist from the moment we open our eyes and see our mothers setting us free by cutting our cord,” she said, her tone remaining even and devoid of hubris.

Several mercenaries scoffed as if they were mildly offended by Cathleen’s understated humblebrag.

Cathleen didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t care. “It is because of that shared pursuit that I choose to follow Lord Walker. He is young, brash, and equal parts foolish and brave. He lives his entire life as if it were combat. Every action he takes is that of a warrior seeking advantage. I like that,” she said while looking at Nero with a slight expression of pride.

Nero had heard her weird opinions before, so he responded with his standard eye-roll and indulgent smile.

“As I said, he is young. So, I have decided to stay with him. To train him. To keep him alive while he learns everything the world is trying to teach him,” she said, then looked over at the table and continued, “Vera and Nicholas were his first family, but I am his first follower. Whether he is a new lord or a unique, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m here for Nero the future Warblade.”

Nero smirked at Cathleen's overly dramatic introduction.

Clapping lightly, Nero said, “It’s very brave to expose your crazy to the world, so let’s all thank Cathleen for putting hers out on display for us to enjoy.”

Nero, chuckling at his joke, stilled as he felt the essence in the room shift. His eyes snapped up to see Cathleen staring at him with the same small smile she used to have before she spent a few hours ‘training’ him to death. Her presence seemed to vibrate in the ether, and Nero could ‘feel’ her desire to get him back in the ring.

The smirk died pathetically on his face, and Nero coughed lightly to clear his throat. “Well, of course, Cathleen is my first follower, or my bodyguard, or whatever the hell she wants to be. I, for one, don’t plan on giving her any orders,” he said, then mumbled under his breath, “Being alive is much better than being in charge.”

The oppressive feeling in the ether faded away, and Nero managed to offer Cathleen a smile that looked somewhere between apologetic and rueful in return.

“Moving on! Next, we have Rose Vikander. Former teammate with what some would consider a politically complicated past. Is she a young, eager student? A clever spy, playing multiple sides? Or maybe she’ll surprise us all and let us see the truth behind the lie. Rose Vikander, come on down!” he shouted with a smile.

Rose stepped forward, offering Nero a look that could either be indicating her support, or her promised retribution. Nero narrowed his eyes at the easy confidence she was displaying. ‘Yet another mask. Is she trying to mimic Cathleen?’ he wondered.

“My name is indeed Rose Vikander. I am a child of the villages. After being apprenticed to a hunter, I followed him to Dorchester. When I met Lord Walker, I knew that he was special. I agreed to join his training unit with the elites at the behest of General Branson. Lord Walker knows about my affiliations and was kind enough to offer me a way out. I have served with him in battle, and I will gladly follow him into many more,” she said, her voice carrying smatterings of pride and arrogance.

Nero stared at her in shock. ‘This chick is something else. I just can’t pin her down. She really is like a chameleon or something. Why is she acting all ‘warrior-woman’ now? Is she trying to ensure her place in the hierarchy or something? Isn’t she like barely level 10? Wait a minute! Did she get a pillar and I didn’t notice?!?’ he thought to himself in panic.

Nero’s entire being focused on Rose, the desire for answers was almost too much for him. He knew she was beautiful. But, he also knew she was conniving. Yet, everything about her seemed to draw him in. He really wanted to figure her out, to understand her.

While still sitting in his chair, he locked eyes with her. He could see that she was pretending to wait patiently for his verdict, but behind the facade, he could almost ‘see’ the real her. Between his perception field monitoring her essence field, and the rest of his senses working in conjunction to pierce her mask, he got a glimpse of a scared young woman.

Like a shaft of sunlight breaking through a canopy and banishing the shadows, Nero saw the real Rose. It was only a moment, but it was enough. She had been trying to survive, that’s all. She sided with the general because it got her away from her old life. Now, with Nero no longer under the general’s thumb, she figured her best path forward was to follow him. She didn’t trust the general, and could now only hope that Nero would prove to be the man she thought he was.

Though it was only a second or two of silence, everyone in the room could see that Nero was deep in thought about something. A few people looked back and forth between Rose and Nero, trying to glean some insight from watching their staring contest.

A smile broke out on Nero’s face, and he said, “That’s our Rose! Though you probably all out-level her by a lot, I recommend that you don’t provoke her. She is a true hunter, she never attacks from the front. Before you know it, you’ll be dead and not even understand the ‘how’ or ‘why’.”

Offering Rose a look filled with acceptance, Nero continued, “She’s been with me for a while. So, if she wants to sign up, I’ll be more than happy to have her. Welcome to the W.A.C.!”

In response, Rose smiled, and Nero thought for a second that it looked almost genuine.

Turning to the woman standing beside her, Nero said, “Next is Ms. Keening I believe?”

The woman in question stepped forward, her bearing was a little more military than Nero expected it to be. She was a little under six feet tall, lithe, but well-muscled. Her leather armor allowed her upper arms to be shown off, and Nero could see that cool bicep vein fitness people have. Her gray cloak was swept back over her shoulders like a cape, and her weapons and various metal bits were all shining like they’d been recently polished. Her light brown hair was pulled back in braids as if she were cosplaying a Viking, and her eyes were showing nothing but determination and intelligence.

Nero remembered her from when Vera had sent her and the others to escort him to the Tower of Law several weeks ago. ‘I wonder where Vera found this woman. She looks like she was born to lead an adventuring party… or a cross-fit class. What was she doing signing up for a mercenary job?’ he thought to himself.