Grand Game 096: In a Pickle (Patreon)

Day Two. Night.

I sat down against a tree trunk and inspected the dead player’s shortsword more closely. It was a plain blade and made for a poor substitute for my own weapons—both of which were still buried in the rhomodillo—but at least I was not unarmed.

I was not so foolish to believe that my fighting was done for the day. For all that the party of Dark players and I had cooperated in the battle, there was no telling how they would react once the rhomodillo was dead, and I needed to be ready for anything. Wiping the shortsword clean, I sheathed it in the hidden scabbard across my back.

You have successfully concealed a small weapon.

My preparations seen to, I watched the party play tag with the dying creature. It was unnecessary. The creature’s wounds were severe enough that it would perish soon, but I understood what drove the group.

The beast had killed four of their companions, and the players’ anger and frustration were clearly written on their faces. While they fought, I re-examined each closely but still failed to recognize any. If they had been in the dungeon, they had left before I had become entangled with Saben’s gang.

Satisfied that the players were of no immediate danger, I closed my eyes and took the opportunity to recover some psi.

You have replenished 3% of your psi. Your psi is now at 4%.

You have replenished 3% of your psi. Your psi is now at 7%.

…

Your psi is now at 67%. Your meditation has increased to level 33.

Midway through my meditation, the Game alerts I was waiting for arrived.

A level 51  rhomodillo has died.

You have reached level 32! Your dodging has increased to level 34. Your shortswords has increased to level 42. Your two weapon fighting has increased to level 37.

Your chi has increased to level 25. Your telekinesis has increased to level 21.

A small smile stole onto my face at the Adjudicator’s messages. I was advancing steadily. Given my circumstances, I didn’t waste any time spending my new attribute points.

Your Mind has increased to rank 9 and your Constitution to rank 9.

The players, meanwhile, were converging on me. Keeping my eyes closed, I leaned further back against the tree in feigned weariness. None of the party were scouts, and their footfalls on the soft earth were distinct and clear—to my ears at least.

At least they’re not trying to sneak up on me, I thought wryly as the six formed a loose semi-circle about me. I waited to see if the players would take any further action, but when they didn’t, I opened my eyes and rose to my feet, arms folded and, to all appearances, weaponless.

Your hidden weapon has gone unnoticed! Your deception has increased to level 12.

I held back a snort. The Game message was no surprise. Two of the group had retrieved a pair of still burning torches abandoned at the start of the battle and were shining their light on me. Even so, the torches were doing a poor job of illuminating the area, and the players were struggling to see. It’s no wonder they’ve failed to spot my blade.

“Who are you?” one of the players demanded, bare blade in hand.

I said nothing, bristling at the undisguised threat.

“Where did you come from?” Cecilia asked, her tone only a touch less combative.

My gaze slid to her, noticing her tense grip about her staff, but I didn’t break my silence.

Ultack folded his arms and scrutinized me carefully. Of the six, he seemed the most at ease. “It’s him,” the half-orc said.

“Him?” Cecilia asked, casting her companion a sharp glance. “Him who?”

“The one whose face is plastered on the bounty board,” Ultack replied.

Silence fell at the half-orc’s words, and I could almost feel the Dark players’ scrutiny deepen.

An analyze attempt by a hostile entity has failed.

An analyze attempt by a hostile entity has failed.

An analyze attempt by a hostile entity has failed.

Your deception has increased to level 15.

I hid my grin as three of the analyze attempts against me failed, advancing my deception skill. Useful. Still, it would not do to grow overconfident. I’d only sensed three failed attempts, which meant as many as three more could’ve succeeded. I have to assume they know my level.

“We should claim the bounty,” one of the players muttered, edging forward a step.

“We’ll be rich,” another said, licking his lips in anticipation. “Not to mention, we’ll—”

“No,” Ultack snapped.

Cecilia frowned at the half-orc, but she said nothing to object. Observing the byplay between the group, I realized he was probably her second-in-command.

“Ultack is right,” the elf said. “This player has helped us. If not for him, we’d probably all be dead.”

I snorted. “Not probably. Certainly.”

Cecilia’s lips thinned at my response, but she didn’t argue. I noticed, though, that she did not unwrap her fingers from about her staff or command the other players to stand down.

“Why did you help us?” Ultack asked, speaking into the renewed silence.

I shrugged. “You appeared to need it.” I smiled. “Was I wrong?”

“You weren’t,” the half-orc said. Ignoring the sputtered protests of the others, he glanced at Cecilia.

Interpreting something in his look, the elven mage rolled her eyes, but a moment later, she turned to me and said grudgingly, “Thank you.”

I inclined my head. “You’re welcome.”

“We can’t let you go, though,” she added quickly.

I stared at her with a face devoid of expression. “Oh? And what’s to say you can hold me?”

Her lips tightened at my words. “There’s six of—” she began.

Ultack laid a restraining hand on her arm. “We will not do this,” he said. “We owe him.”

The two matched gazes for a drawn-out moment before Cecilia reluctantly jerked her chin in agreement and turned back to me. “It seems you are in luck today, Michael.”

I did not miss the emphasis she’d placed on my name. She was letting me know she’d successfully analyzed me.

“We will not stop you from leaving,” Cecilia went on. “But beyond today, don’t expect further mercies from us.” She paused, then sighed. “But I cannot ignore that we owe you a debt—a debt that cannot remain unfulfilled. How can we repay you?”

I eyed the mage, her abrupt standdown catching me off guard. I had been sure we were about to come to blows. And for all her obvious reluctance in making it, Cecilia’s offer appeared genuine. I didn’t know how far I could trust her, but for a Dark player, she was proving more honorable than I expected.

“You could give me that writ of safe passage you carry,” I suggested, deciding to put the elf’s words to the test.

Cecilia’s eyes widened then narrowed. “How do you—”

“The bastard has been spying on us!” one of the watching fighters yelled.

“Well, that much should have been obvious,” I murmured.

“Let’s kill him!” another cried.

The other players growled in agreement, and weapons were raised. I sighed. It looked like I was in for another fight after all. I held myself ready but didn’t draw my own blade just yet.

“Enough!” Ultack snapped, spinning about to glare at his companions. When the discontented whispers died, the half-orc turned back to me. “Have you been following us?”

I didn’t shy from his gaze. “I have, but only since you left the Long Fang’s camp.” Before this could ignite renewed protests, I added, “My business is not with you. It is with the goblins. I only followed you because I found your presence there… interesting.”

Ultack nodded slowly, seeming to accept my words.

“What do you want with the writ?” Cecilia asked, still looking suspicious.

I glanced at her. “That is no concern of yours,” I replied, my tone hardening. “If you wish to repay your debt, give it to me.”

The mage said nothing for a moment, chewing over my words.

“I could have chosen not to help you,” I prompted as I sensed her wavering. “And taken it off your corpse.”

That drew more scowls muttered imprecations, but no one disputed my assertion. They all knew I was right.

“Give it to him,” Ultack said finally.

Cecilia glanced at her companion in exasperation.

“We have fulfilled our task,” Ultack said, undaunted by her look. “And we have little further need for it. It is a small reward in exchange for our lives.”

Cecilia still didn’t look convinced.

“You know it’s what the captain would want us to do,” Ultack persisted.

The half-orc’s words piqued my interest. This was the second time I’d heard the pair make mention of a superior. It implied they were part of a much larger group. Where was their captain?

Cecilia nodded reluctantly, swayed by Ultack’s arguments. Reaching into the pouch at her side, she pulled out a rolled-up parchment and held it out to me. Curiously, I analyzed the object in her hand.

This is a goblin writ of safe passage.  This item is inscribed with the personal signature of Shaman Hyex of the Howlers and guarantees the bearer’s safety in sector 12,560. Any goblin who disrespects the shaman’s writ will feel the wrath of the Howlers.

I smiled as I read the item’s description. My instincts had been right. Acquiring the writ would put me one step closer to completing Duggar’s task and, at the very least, would get me into the Long Fangs’ camp. Of course, I still didn’t know what to do once inside, but I was sure I would think of something.

“Will this suffice?” Cecilia asked.

I nodded wordlessly, concealing my eagerness for the writ.

“You agree that once I give you this, the debt between us will be settled,” she persisted.

“I do,” I said and reached out to take the item from her fingers.

The elven mage pulled her hand back before I could do so. “I will give you the writ,” she said. “But not just yet.”

I straightened. “Why not?” I asked sharply.

“We require it ourselves,” Cecilia said.

I frowned, not understanding.

“To get through the Howlers’ camp,” she added. Seeing I remained unenlightened, she elaborated, “The Howlers are encamped around the safe zone.”

“The safe zone?” I asked, perplexed. “Why would you need to go there?”

“It’s the only place we can leave the sector,” she said with a frown of her own.

I stared at her blankly.

“This is a closed sector,” Ultack interjected. “You know what that means?”

“There’s no way in or out?” I guessed, recalling the two bounty hunters’ words.

“Almost right,” Ultack conceded. “There are no natural means into this valley. The only way in or out is through the ley line leading to the dungeon or a player-made portal from one of the other Kingdom sectors.”

I certainly didn’t want to return to the dungeon. I glanced at the glistening snow-covered peaks, still visible above the trees in my night vision. “The mountains can’t be crossed then?”

A player to Ultack’s left snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”

The half-orc smiled. “Jorge is right. The mountains are inhospitable, but it's not just that. Even if you manage to scale its peaks, you will find only a gray void of nothingness beyond. There are no sectors adjacent to this one.”

I pursed my lips, not sure I believed him. What he was describing sounded an impossibility, but Ultack’s information was consistent with what I’d learned from the bounty hunter, and I couldn’t ignore the possibility that they were both telling the truth. I turned to Cecilia. “About the safe zone then?”

“It houses the sector’s only portal,” she said.

I scratched my head. “And that’s important why? Can’t you just create another?”

Cecilia’s lips twitched, but she didn’t laugh at my ignorance.

“Creating a portal is no easy undertaking,” she began.

“Not to mention expensive,” Jorge interjected.

The elven woman ignored the interruption. “Only one faction has gone to the trouble of creating and maintaining a gate to this sector.”

I didn’t have to think too hard to guess who that might be. “The Awakened Dead,” I said sourly.

Unsurprisingly, Cecilia nodded.

Still, her answer confused me. If there was one thing I’d learned of the Awakened Dead, it was that they didn’t look kindly on those that didn’t belong to their faction. Narrowing my eyes, I studied the shimmer around the elf that signified her Marks. A Game message opened in my mind.

The target is Cecilia, a level 30 elf player. She bears Mark of Lesser Dark.

I had not been mistaken the first time I had analyzed her. Cecilia was not bound to Erebus, Ishita, or any other Power.

So how did she and the others get here?

“I don’t suppose the Awakened Dead are letting just anyone use their gate,” I said finally. “How did your party end up in this Sector?”

“We were sent,” she replied.

I frowned. “Sent to do what?”

“That is no concern of yours,” Cecilia retorted.

I couldn’t help but grin as she threw my own words back at me. I let the matter lie, though, and turned back to the subject at hand. “Alright, if the Awakened Dead let you use the gate to come in, I assume they will let you leave by it too?”

“They will,” Cecilia and Ultack said in unison.

Despite the firmness of the pair’s response, I sensed an undercurrent of uncertainty in their words. I ignored it. “Then they will let me use it too. I have a Mark of the Dark, and I’m sure I can pass for one of your party.”

Ultack shook his head. “It will not be that easy.” He removed his right glove, revealing a spider tattoo inscribed on the back of his hand. “Ishita’s people strictly control access to the portal with these. You will not get through.”

My lips twisted sourly at the mention of the spider goddess’ name. So, I could expect to encounter more of her people here. Worse yet, they appeared in control of the sector.

They wouldn’t be constrained by my agreement with Erebus. I paused, struck by a thought. Was that why the Power agreed so readily to my non-aggression Pact? He didn’t need to hunt me down himself if his ally did the work.

I banished my dark musings. Now was not the time to address them.

My gaze drifted to the dead players. I assumed they would revive in the safe zone, but would the tattoo Ultack showed me remain on the skins after death? “What about them?”

“Their markings will not fade,” Cecilia said, confirming my fears. “The tattoos are magical in nature and will remain as long as we are in the sector.”

Escaping the region was looking more complicated by the minute. “So what? Are you saying I’m stuck here?”

Cecilia and Ultack exchanged silent glances, not replying—which I suppose was answer enough. Another player was not so restrained.

“That’s exactly what she is saying,” Jorge chortled.

I scowled at him but didn’t respond. I was certain now that this was why Erebus had not been overly concerned with the terms of our deal. If I could not escape the sector, abiding by the non-aggression Pact cost the Dark Power nothing.

The thought left a sick feeling in my stomach— anger at the Power and bitterness at myself for being so duped.

“You should come with us to the safe zone anyway,” Ultack said slowly. Perhaps he’d sensed my dark thoughts. “Someone there might be able to help you.”

I sighed. I doubted help would be easily come by—or freely given. But I refused to be discouraged.

I will escape.

Shrugging off my despair, I considered the half-orcs words more objectively. There was merit to his suggestion. Visiting the safe zone would be useful, though perhaps not for the reasons Ultack proposed. I needed to understand the full extent of my predicament—just how trapped was I? —and confirm the truth of the players’ tale.

And I could only do that by visiting the safe zone.

I turned back to Cecilia. “We have a deal. I will accompany you to the safe zone, and after we get there, you give me the writ.”

The elven mage nodded. “Agreed.”