Grand Game 270: Old Stomping Grounds (Patreon)

You have entered sector 12,560 of the Kingdoms.

This area is part of the Forever Kingdom’s wild borderlands. It is currently neutral territory, unclaimed by any faction or Force. No additional restrictions apply to this region.

You have entered a safe zone.

I stepped out into a square that was, at one time, both familiar and unrecognizable. Turning a slow circle, I took in my surroundings. The village was the same size and shape it had always been, its configuration of streets and buildings unchanged.

But everything else about it was different.

The dirt roads had vanished, replaced by neatly paved blocks of stone. Then there were the buildings. Every structure looked like it had been rebuilt from the ground up, and not from simple logs either, but with brick and mortar.

The buildings had grown too. Where before, most of the village had consisted of simple log cabins, now I was surrounded by multi-storied structures. But none of that was what startled me the most.

It was the fortifications that did. Or the lack thereof.

The double ring of walls that had hemmed in the safe zone was gone, vanished like they’d never been. Loken had told me Mariga—Amgira, I corrected—had destroyed the goblin fort before leaving the sector, but I’d never contemplated what that meant for the village.

“It’s beautiful,” Cara murmured.

She was right, I thought, turning my gaze upon the mountainside laid bare all around us.

Shael chuckled. “It’s prosperous, that’s what. This place practically screams money.” The bard scratched his chin. “How does a borderland sector get this rich and remain neutral territory? Every nearby faction should be scrambling to claim this place!”

“Who says they aren’t?” I asked.

The bard looked at me sharply.

“Look there,” I said, pointing to the forest at the base of the mountain slope on which the safe zone was perched. Caught up by the changes to the village, I’d not noticed before, but the valley’s wooded interior was not as pristine as it had once been.

Huge swathes of trees had disappeared, ravaged by fire and magic, and gray ash clouds still hung over multiple locations. A battle is raging down there.

Shielding his eyes from the sun overhead, Shael narrowed his eyes and peered where I pointed. “Is that… smoke?”

I nodded.

“You weren’t kidding,” the bard said. “It looks like a war zone down there.”

“And this is the combatants’ staging area,” Cara added quietly.

Turning away from the forest, Shael and I followed her gaze. The agent was examining the passing players.

There were many more of them than I remembered—and they were all armed to the teeth. Faction soldiers, I thought. Hurrying back and forth in differing directions, the groups of players glared at one another with undisguised hate, and if not for the fact that we were in a safe zone, I suspected many would’ve gladly drawn blood.

Shael sucked in air between his teeth. “I count at least eight different factions present.”

The bard, I noticed, was studying the soldiers’ colors and badges.

“From Dark, Shadow, and Light,” he finished in a half-strangled voice. “Damn, Michael, what is this place?”

“I told you the sector was contested,” I pointed out.

“But not by all three Forces!” Shael half-shouted.

I glanced at the bard curiously; this was the most upset I’d seen him.

Heads turned our way, and Shael lowered his voice. “A faction war is one thing, but a Force war? That’s likely to bring out the major Powers, and trust me, my friend, when they clash, you don’t want to be around.” The bard ran a troubled hand through his hair. “Hells, I won’t be surprised if there are envoys in this sector already.”

I winced.

The bard noticed. “There are, aren’t there? Tell me,” he demanded. “Whose envoys are present?”

“Tartar’s most likely,” I said.

Shael’s eyes grew round.

“One of Loken’s, too, probably.” I rubbed my chin in thought. “And I won’t rule out the possibility of Amgira—Arinna’s envoy— also being present.”

The bard went pale as a sheet. “That’s… that’s…” Seemingly at a loss to finish, he dropped his head in his hands. “Powers, Michael,” he groaned. “Why have you brought us here?”

Unexpectedly, Cara laughed and placed a hand on the bard’s shoulder. “There, there. It’s not all bad. I’ve been informed—reliably so—that Michael here is on speaking terms with both Tartar and Loken.” She glanced my way. “And I imagine, if he must, he’ll find a way to ingrate himself with Arinna, too.”

Shael groaned louder. Not unsurprisingly, Cara’s words provided scant comfort.

✵ ✵ ✵

Sadly, that was not the end of the matter. Shael had more questions, but I pleaded off answering. “I’ll explain later after we get to the tavern.”

“But—” Shael began.

“I agree,” Cara interrupted. “Let’s get going. We’re attracting far too much attention as it is.”

I threw her an indecipherable look. From her earlier words, I gathered that Kesh had informed the agent about my meeting with Loken and Tartar, but I couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not.

“Lead on, then,” Shael conceded grudgingly.

Nodding sharply, I turned left. “This way,” I said and headed in the direction of the tavern. Cara strode after me, and a moment later, Shael did so too.

While the three of us wove through the streets, I studied the passing buildings more closely. More than half were festooned with faction banners and flags.

They’ve been turned into barracks, I realized, watching a squad of wounded soldiers being escorted up the steps of one such building. It made sense. Nowhere else in the sector would be safer for injured players to recover.

The remaining buildings had been transformed into shops. On my left, I spotted an apothecary, on my right, a smithy, and on the next street over, a bank. All the homes were gone. The original owners must’ve made a fortune, I mused, eyeing the many merchants on display.

Our group was attracting its own fair share of attention, too, I noticed. Or rather, Cara was. Every merchant who spotted her kept their attention fixed on the agent’s red-robed form until she disappeared from sight.

“Wow, Cara,” I murmured, studying the emotions playing across the watching merchants’ faces. “Looks like you’re even more infamous than I am. What has Kesh done for her agents to warrant such… attention?”

“Oh, only what every merchant dreams of doing,” she replied lightly. “Undercut the competition and secure a hold on the market.”

Shael snorted. “That’s an understatement. The old lady has quite the reputation in Nexus. She’s known to own the biggest clients and rarest items.” He scanned the watching faces. “That’s why they’re afraid. They’re scared the emporium has come to steal their business.”

Cara laughed but didn’t refute the bard’s words.

“In fact,” Shael continued, “I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t see a sudden flurry of sales in the sector.” He grinned. “This would be a good time to…”

I stopped paying attention as we turned a corner, and the Sleepy Inn came into sight. I knew it was the tavern because it stood in the same place, but nothing else about it was recognizable.

That’s the Sleepy Inn? I marveled.

The building was six stories tall—twice as tall as it had been when I’d left. Like the rest of the town, it had undergone a transformation into a brick-and-mortar building, but the changes were more extensive than that. Colored glass panes covered the windows, stone statues decorated the roof, the walls were brightly painted, and flowerpots hung everywhere.

Renovations, eh? I thought, eyeing the cheerful-looking building. It looked like a bit more than that. Keeping my gaze fixed on the tavern, I hurried my steps. Now that my destination was in sight, I was eager to get inside.

Which was how I missed the crowd of approaching players.

“Whoa there, fellow,” one of the group said before I could barge into him.

Paying the speaker no mind, I sidestepped him and attempted to slip past his companions. The tavern entrance was only a few dozen yards farther up the street, and I could spot its doors thrown back in welcome.

The crowd closed ranks.

Rebuffed, I drew up short, and behind me, I felt Shael and Cara do the same. What the hell? I cursed, finally turning my gaze upon the group. The players’ faces were set in hard lines, and their gazes were cold.

They’re barring my way—deliberately, I realized, belatedly recognizing the group’s intent.

A hand patted my shoulder. The group’s speaker. “Relax, fellow. Where are you going in such a hurry?”

Shrugging off the offending arm, I glared at my questioner.

He threw up his hands, displaying empty palms. “We mean you no harm. We just want to chat before you head on off.”

Remaining tight-lipped, I stepped back and let my gaze flit over the group. Did they recognize me? Was that why they’d stopped us?

But none of the two dozen players arrayed before me looked like Awakened Dead. Sure, their expressions were unfriendly, but the naked hatred Ishita’s followers felt for me was absent. I wasn’t about to take any chances, though.

Reaching out with my will, I analyzed the party’s leader.

The target is Pitor, a level 141 human warrior. He bears a Mark of Minor Dark, a Mark of Lesser Shadow, and a Mark of Kalin.

I did not recognize the name Kalin, but he had to be a Power, which meant the player before me was his follower. And perhaps, even Sworn too. I grimaced. I’d tangled with enough Powers already, and I didn’t need more enemies.

“What do you want?” I asked, making an effort to keep my tone neutral.

I didn’t quite succeed.

“No need to get riled up,” Pitor said soothingly. “We only want to talk.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Then talk.”

“You’re going to the tavern, aren’t you?” Pitor asked.

My gaze sharpened. “What of it?”

Pitor smiled. “I thought so. But before you head on, there are a few things you should know.”

He had my full attention now. “Go on.”

“It’s simple, really,” Pitor said, his tone friendly. “Staying there—” he jerked his thumb to point at the tavern—“is dangerous.”

My arms tightened about themselves. “Dangerous,” I whispered. “How?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Pitor replied, still smiling. “Guests have been disappearing all month—dying, I’m told—their throats slit the moment they leave the safe zone.”

I knew where this was going now. Saya’s notes hadn’t said anything about disappearing guests, but they had made mention of intimidation attempts, and that, I was sure, was why Pitor and his gang had waylaid us.

My blood boiled, and anger thrummed in my veins, but I forced it down. “Is that so?” I asked casually. “And who is killing these guests?”

Pitor shrugged innocently. “No idea. Of course, we’ve offered our assistance, but the gnome in charge is too proud to accept help from the likes of us.” He grinned toothily. “So you see, if you stay there, you’re taking your life in your hands.” Striding forward, he placed a hand on my arm. “Personally, I wouldn’t risk it.”

I went still, dangerously still. Pitor sensed nothing amiss, but Cara must’ve because she stepped forward, her robe brushing against me.

Pitor’s gaze flickered to her before returning to rest on me. “You look like you can take care of yourself, but who knows what might happen to your companions?”

My hackles rose. And all I wanted to do was bare my teeth and rip out Pitor’s throat. But this was a safe zone. Relax, Michael. Don’t show him the big bad wolf—not yet. You’re just another player. Harmless.

And besides, it will be all the sweeter if he doesn’t see it coming.

“We will take our chances,” Cara said, breaking the tension.

Pitor frowned. “You’re going to let the merchant do the talking for you?” he asked, keeping his gaze fixed on me.

I shrugged; the gang leader clearly didn’t realize the entirety of what Cara was. “She’s the one paying the bills.” Brushing past him, I stepped towards the wall of players at his back.

The group did not budge.

I glanced over my shoulder at Pitor. “Are you going to tell your people to move? Or are we going to find out what the Adjudicator thinks of this?”

Pitor’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a fool not to heed our warning, friend.”

Saying nothing, I took another step forward.

Pitor waved his hands, and the players dispersed. With Shael and Cara following in my wake, I stepped through their ranks. I was certain now of the source of the tavern’s troubles and eager to put an end to it.

But first, it was time for a long-delayed reunion with Saya.