Grand Game 281: A Mountain of Loot (Patreon)

Before searching the camp, checking my Game messages, or attending to the dead, I secured the gate.

I didn’t expect the Marauder teams to arrive until dawn, if then, but if any returned early, I could not afford to be caught unprepared. The wards about the camp would prevent the players from sensing anything amiss on their approach, but once they passed through the gate, it wouldn’t take them long to figure out something was wrong.

Which is why I trapped the gate—or rather, the mustering ground just inside.

You have successfully configured 2o traps.

After laying my traps and hopefully leaving a nasty surprise waiting for whoever next entered the camp, I dragged the bodies of the gate guards into the closest tent.

Hands on hips, I eyed the two corpses. Both reeked of alcohol, vomit, and… other things. Still, I needed the garments of at least one of them. Justin’s will do. Holding my nose, I stripped off the dead Marauder’s outer garments—cloak, hat, shirt, and pants—and equipped them over my armor.

Of the four Marauder teams at large, Myka and Misha’s groups worried me the most. They had gone out together, and I expected them to return as a unit too. Worse yet, they knew enough to guard against some of my tricks—which is why I intended on using different ones this time around.

The two teams from the village were less of a concern. They might return early—warned by the reviving dead—or they might not return at all if they waited for their replacements. Either way, after my gains tonight, I was sure I could handle a single Marauder team on its own.

Speaking of gains…

Turning my focus inwards, I finally opened the Game messages that had been insistently flashing for attention.

You have reached level 150!

Congratulations, Michael! You are now a tier 3 player. Your experience gains have decreased further. For achieving rank 15, you have been awarded 1 additional attribute point.

Your sneaking has increased to level 124 and reached rank 12.

Your insight has increased to level 143 and reached rank 14.

Your thieving has increased to level 102 and reached rank 10, allowing you to learn tier 3 abilities.

The night’s deeds had earned me comparatively few advances in skills, but murdering over a hundred players had not been without benefit—in this case, it had amounted to twelve player levels, fourteen attribute points, and one Class point.

A significant jump in strength by any measure.

Sadly, though, while I’d finally joined the ranks of tier four players—achieving level-parity with most players in the Game—none of my skills had made it that far yet.

But they will, I vowed.

That, though, was a task for another day. Right now, I had attribute points to spend. First, I need to bump up my Perception.

My plan for dealing with the remaining Marauder teams involved a touch of deception, and if I were going to deceive the Hound’s senses, a bit more Perception would not go amiss.

Your Perception has increased to rank 31.

You have 11 attribute points remaining.

I spent three attribute points on Perception, advancing it just enough to upgrade facial disguise. Opening the requisite ability tome, I began to read.

You have upgraded your facial disguise ability to superior facial disguise. This tier 3 ability enhances the robustness of the illusion wrapped around you, allowing it to function within a safe zone and for extended periods of time.

You have 0 of 31 Perception ability slots remaining.

A tier three illusion and over thirty ranks in Perception should be enough to defeat the Hound’s senses, I told myself, not sure if I was convinced.

I shrugged. If it didn’t work, it didn’t. I couldn’t afford to overinvest in Perception. I had more attribute points to spend however, and turning my focus inwards again, I added everything to Dexterity.

Your Dexterity has increased to rank 51. Other modifiers: +8 from items.

I smiled, pleased by the changes to myself.

The additional eleven attribute points had made a perceptible difference, and I was noticeably faster. Now, no matter how many Marauders came at me, they would have a hard time pinning me down. Not to mention, I’d also gained enough ability slots to purchase more Dexterity abilities once I returned to the village.

My grin widened. Already, the tasks before me didn’t seem as daunting anymore. Swinging around, I faced the silent tents.

There was only one more thing left to do: loot the dead.

✵ ✵ ✵

I’d not overestimated the amount of equipment there was to plunder.

A hundred and twenty dead Marauders equated to a veritable mountain of gear—far more than I could hope to carry, even with my bag of holding. Then, too, there were the consumables lying about the camp—drinks, rations, animal skins, alchemy ingredients, and so on. Some of them were valuable in their own right.

Just stripping the bodies and sorting the items took hours.

Making sure to keep everything out of sight of anyone who stumbled through the gate, I collected all the equipment in an empty tent and created three piles: items not worth enough to carry away, gear for selling, and equipment to keep for myself.

Naturally, the last pile was the smallest.

Sitting on an upturned crate, I leaned forward to inspect my booty more closely. There are some interesting pieces here.

A dull pounding interrupted me.

Sitting back, I frowned. Where was that sound coming from? I was certain there was no one else in the camp.

The sound came again, louder this time.

It’s the gate! I realized. Whoever had arrived was early; dawn was at least an hour away. Dashing out of the tent, I raced towards the palisade, weaving psi as I did.

You have cast facial disguise, assuming the visage of Justin. Duration: 3 hours.

Panting hard, I skidded to a stop before the gate.

The pounding continued. “Open up, you fools! We’re tired, hungry, and sore!”

I recognized the voice: it was Pitor.

“Goddamnit, if you two are sleeping, I’ll—”

I slid open the gate a touch. “I’m awake,” I slurred in Justin’s voice. The facial disguise spell saw to it that I mimicked the dead guard’s tone exactly. “Now, stop that damnable racket. You’re giving me a headache.”

You have passed a mental resistance check! Pitor has failed to pierce your disguise.

Shoving open the gate wider, Pitor brushed past me. Behind the disgruntled Marauder, I saw Myka and Misha’s teams looking just as exhausted and haggard as he’d had reported.

“What took you so long?” Pitor demanded querulously.

“Boss did,” I replied succinctly.

“Yzark’s still awake?” Pitor asked in surprise while I slid the gate back all the way and let the fatigued players in.

They shuffled past me, heads down and clothes saturated with dust. Had they actually scaled the mountain in search of me? It looked that way.

More importantly, the mindglows of all fifty Marauders were visible, and none of the mages had their shields active—and why would they? They are returning to their home base, after all.

All in all, the returning Marauders painted a sorry enough picture that I almost felt bad about what was going to happen to them.

But only almost.

Pitor waved his arms. “Hey Justin, you listening to me? I asked you a question.”

“Ye, ye, I heard you,” I groused. “The boss is awake and in a mood. He wants to see y’all.”

Pitor sighed. “Alright, I’ll head to his tent now.”

“Not just you,” I said, stopping him.

He swung back, scowling.

Opening my arms, I took in the entire company. “He wants to see everyone. You’re all to wait here,” I said.

Pitor opened his mouth to protest.

“Boss’ orders,” I finished.

The Marauder threw me a sharp look but didn’t protest. “Myka, Misha,” he snapped. “Form up your teams. The boss is coming, and he’ll not be pleased to see the state you lot are in.”

Pitor, I noticed, didn’t have a speck of dust on his clothes. He obviously hadn’t bothered climbing the mountain.

Myka and Misha were both put out by the order but nevertheless complied. As she shoved her people in line, the Hound’s weary gaze swept over me in passing.

You have passed a mental resistance check! Misha has failed to pierce your disguise.

A triumphant smile slipped fleetingly across my face, but I hid it before anyone noticed.

“Where’s Hakien?” Pitor asked, belatedly realizing the other guard was missing.

The last of the Marauder company entered the base, and I slid the gate closed behind them. “Gone to fetch the boss,” I replied reasonably.

“But—”

“Pitor,” Misha called out suddenly, her voice sounding odd, “when did we start placing traps around the gate?”

“What?” he asked, marching up to her. “What have you found?”

Remaining slouched and doing my best not to appear as if I was hurrying, I advanced towards the pressure plates I’d set in an out-of-the-way spot.

Misha pointed to something buried in the ground less than two yards away. “There’s one there.” Swiveling a little, she gestured to a second spot. “And another there.”

“That can’t be right,” Pitor said, looking puzzled. “We don’t have any in stock.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Justin, what the hell is going on?”

I met his gaze across the stretch of open ground separating us. “The boss will explain everything,” I assured him and stepped onto the twenty triggers I’d stacked atop one another.

You have triggered a trap!

You have triggered a trap!

You have…

…

In one glorious instant, the twenty traps activated—half poison clouds, and the other half, firebombs.

The resulting explosion was cataclysmic.

Flames mushroomed upwards, clearing the treetops and reaching skyward. My vision flashed white, and even at what I’d deemed a safe distance, I was blasted off my feet.

I hit the palisade hard, breaking my nose and cracking a few ribs in the process. I didn’t care, though. Damage messages were scrolling through my vision.

Pitor has died. You have slain a soldier of Kalin, earning his ire!

Inzamin has died.

Misha has died.

Myka has died.

…

The list went on and on. Compared to what happened to the players in the epicenter of the explosion, the injuries I’d sustained were nothing.

Yikes. Rising to my feet, I dusted myself off. All fifty Marauders had perished and not a single mindglow remained. It defied my wildest expectations.

Craning my head back, I stared skywards. Already the flames were vanishing. “That must’ve been visible in the village,” I muttered, wondering if that would send the other two Marauder teams racing home.

Wafting away the lingering smoke, I strode towards the closest body part. I didn’t have much time left, and I still had my looting to complete.