Grand Game 283: The Fate of the Defeated (Patreon)

The trip back to the safe zone was undisturbed and surprisingly pleasant for the most part. The woods near the Marauder base were quiet, and I ran across no foes—players or monsters.

But as I drew closer to the village, the forest grew busier. Spotting a squad of soldiers in the distance, I was reminded that the valley was still a warzone, and no matter my success against the Marauders, the larger three factions in the sector would not hesitate to crush me.

Spurred to greater caution, I took to the treetops and concealed myself in the shadows for good measure, too. Three more Force companies crossed my path, one passing within spitting distance. Perched in a tree, I waited for them to pass.

“… why didn’t we attack?” I heard a soldier ask. “They weren’t a Light company.”

“Didn’t you recognize their banner?” the soldier marching beside him replied.

“I know it wasn’t from a Light faction,” the first voice pointed out.

The second player sighed. “Must I teach you everything? They’re bounty hunters.”

“Oh.” The confused soldier scratched his chin. “And we don’t kill those?”

His companion chuckled. “No, we don’t, you idiot. The guild is neutral, mercenaries for hire and as likely to work for us as they are for—”

“Quiet in the ranks!” a voice shouted from further up.

The two players promptly fell silent, but I’d heard enough. By the sounds of it, the Light soldiers had run across the bounty hunters. Looking back along the company’s line of march, I judged they had emerged from the northern end of the village.

Letting the soldiers pass, I altered my own course to approach the village from the north.

✵ ✵ ✵

A few minutes later, I came across a strange scene.

Fifty bounty hunters stood at attention in the clearing below me, and arrayed before them were over a dozen lines of players in newbie shorts and shirts.

My murder victims.

An unknown entity has detected you! You are no longer hidden.

“Beorin!” someone shouted from ten yards away. “We have company.”

My head jerked in the direction of the cry. It looked like I’d been spotted already. Beorin’s people are good, I thought in admiration and began rising to my feet.

“Don’t move,” a voice hissed in my ear.

I froze.

There were no mindglows closer than ten yards to me, but the voice… it had come from less than two yards away.  Turning my head minutely, I glanced over my shoulder.

My pulse calmed as I recognized the player. It was Snake, Beorin’s weirdly dressed squad mate.

“Don’t you recognize me?” I whispered.

“I do,” he replied equably. “Which is the only reason you’re alive.”

Huh. I had no response to that.

“Why are you skulking here?” Snake asked.

“I’m not skulking,” I replied. “I’m scouting, and I didn’t know who was down there—until now.”

“Well, now you know. Get down,” he ordered.

My gaze drifted towards the Marauder prisoners. They were lined up in neat little rows and had been made to kneel. How had Beorin managed to capture so many of them?

“Move,” Snake repeated.

“Uhm, I prefer they don’t see my face.”

The bounty hunter looked at me blankly. “Who?”

Silently, I gestured to the kneeling captives.

Snake’s eyebrows drew down in consternation. “Didn’t you kill that lot?”

I nodded. “I did, but they don’t know it was me who killed them, and I’d like to keep it that way. Just give me a second to put on my disguise, then I’ll go down.”

“Alright,” Snake agreed grumpily.

“Thanks,” I replied. “Oh, and make sure Beorin knows it’s me.”

✵ ✵ ✵

You have cast facial disguise. Duration: 3 hours.

Wearing a plain, forgettable face, I strode out of the trees.  Standing in the center of the clearing with his arms crossed, Beorin watched my approach. Only a few seconds ago, Snake had informed him of my true identity, and the dwarf’s face was alive with speculation.

You have passed a mental resistance check! Multiple unknown entities have failed to pierce your disguise.

I noted most of the prisoners were also studying me curiously but without any spark of recognition. The face I wore now was not one any of them had seen. One kneeling figure, though, was glaring at me furiously.

Yzark.

He, at least, suspected something.

I waved cheerfully at the orc before turning my back on him and heading toward Beorin.

The dwarf raised one bushy eyebrow as I came to a halt. “I don’t know whether to be amazed by your daring or… agog at your stupidity.”

“What? For waving?” I asked innocently.

He glared at me, not fooled. “For this,” he said, pointing to the neat rows of prisoners. “You intend on starting a war, lad?”

The bounty hunter had not lowered his voice, and his words attracted the attention of every Marauder in the glade. The captives’ hands had been restrained, I noted. Not with ordinary cuffs but in something that bore the sheen of magic. Interesting.

“No,” I said lightly, feeling the many stares upon me. “Just delivering a message.” I ran my gaze deliberately over the kneeling prisoners. “I trust it’s been received.”

Yzark glowered at me, his expression rebellious and promising of violence to come.

“If not,” I said, holding the Marauder boss’ gaze, “perhaps a second lesson is in order.”

For a moment longer, the orc continued to stare mulishly; then he looked away.

Beorin snorted, no doubt amused by my theatrics. I turned back to him. “You’ve done well, bounty hunter,” I pronounced in the manner I imagined a client would. “You’ve fulfilled your end of the job and earned your fee.”

“I have, have I?” he asked, playing along. “That’s good, then.”

I laid a hand on the dwarf, drawing him away from listening ears. “Come, let’s talk more in private.”

✵ ✵ ✵

“I’ll give it to you, lad,” the dwarf said when we were out of earshot, “you don’t do anything by half-measures. How many did you leave alive?”

“Not many,” I replied evasively.

“That so? But you know, things could’ve gone more smoothly had you told me you had a second team.”

I threw him a puzzled look. “What?”

“The ones who helped you do all that,” Beorin said, pointing irritably at the Marauders. “Quite impressive for a few hours of work. The lads and I’ve tried convincing them to tell us how they died, but no one wants to talk.”

“Ah,” I said noncommittally.

“So, where are they?” the dwarf persisted.

I glanced at him, wondering how much of the truth I should share. “There is no second team.”

“Sure, right,” he retorted. “I’m no fool, but keep your secrets if you must.”

I shrugged, not caring if he believed me, and turned to study the prisoners. “I’m curious about your own part. You’ve taken more of the Marauders prisoners than I expected. How did you do it?” I gestured to the fifty bounty hunters. “And when did they get here?”

“One question answers the other, actually,” Beorin replied, still shooting me sidelong looks. Was he still wondering about the ‘second team?’

“Oh?” I prompted.

“After our chat last night, I posted one of my men at the rebirth well. So, we were ready when the first group of nine came in.” He glared at me from beneath bushy brows. “Though not as ready as we could’ve been had we known what numbers to expect.”

I shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, matters sort of snowballed.”

“Uh-huh,” Beorin said. “Anyway, capturing the nine scouts was a bit of a challenge for the four of us. They did not cooperate. But with Snake on our side, they couldn’t hide for long, and we managed to get the job done.” He paused. “We had to kill a few again in the process, though.”

“Understandable,” I murmured.

“After that, I realized we needed reinforcements, so I asked Hannah to expedite things further—which she did—and by the time the bigger group came in, we had the town ringed with bounty hunters.” He chuckled. “Hardly any of them got away after that.”

“How are you keeping them subdued?” I asked.

He held up a cuff. “With this.”

Squinting, I inspected the item he held.

The target is the rank 3 item: manacles of null. This item bears an enchantment that suppresses all abilities of tier 3 and lower.

“I see,” I said, drawing back from the cuffs. “And none of the Marauders thought to get reinforcements from the teams blockading the taverns?”

Beorin tugged at his beard. “Not that any of my men saw. Perhaps they didn’t think they needed the help.” He chuckled suddenly. “Or perhaps they were in too much of a hurry to get their stuff back.” He looked pointedly at my backpack. “Where is all their gear?”

I ignored the question. “Thank you, Beorin. You’ve performed outstandingly.” I paused. “Just how much is all this costing me, by the way?”

“Five thousand gold,” the dwarf replied, his eyes gleaming. “One hundred per bounty hunter.”

I winced at the cost but didn’t quibble.

“So, what now?” Beorin asked after a moment.

“Let them go, I suppose.”

The dwarf blinked. “Just like that? You don’t want us to hold them longer? For a few weeks at least?”

I stared at the dwarf. “That can be done?”

Beorin nodded. “Yeah. The guild runs a prison colony in one of the dungeons we own. Inmates are kept in a null field for the duration of the sentence.” He jerked his thumb at the Marauders. “This lot will only require tier three containment. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“A prison colony,” I muttered, having flashbacks of my time in Erebus’ clutches.

Dungeons, I realized, were ideally suited to holding players. If you controlled the exit portals, you wouldn’t even need the null field Beorin described to keep them in. But the idea of imprisoning the Marauders had not occurred to me before, and I wanted to examine the notion more closely before acting on it.

“How much will it cost?” I asked, not for a second believing it would be free.

“Nothing,” Beorin said, smiling expansively. “Think of it as a favor… in exchange for a future mission the guild may ask you to perform.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You mean like Hannah’s mysterious task?”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

I frowned. Committing myself before I even knew what the guild wanted from me was not wise, and I was under no illusions. By accepting Beorin’s favor, I would be doing just that—unless I wished to make an enemy of the guild, which I most emphatically did not want.

But what was the alternative?

My gaze slid to Yzark, who was still glaring daggers at me. Killing the Marauders had taught them a lesson—I hoped—but in the long run, it didn’t solve the tavern’s problems. “This prison, is it a place of evil repute?”

Beorin chuckled darkly. “Oh, definitely. No one wants to go there.”

“What’s it called?” I asked.

“Hell’s Breathe,” he replied.

“Huh, interesting name.”

“So, you’ll accept?” Beorin asked, making no attempt anymore to pretend it was a favor—and not a bribe—he was offering.

“No.”

“What!” Beorin exclaimed, his face a picture of confusion.

“Hold them for a few hours more, then let them go.” I cast him a mild look. “I trust the fee you’ve been paid already will cover that much.”

Beorin’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You mind telling me why in the seven hells you want to do that? After all the trouble we’ve gone through to capture them, why—”

“You were right.”

The dwarf’s brows furrowed. “I was?”

I nodded. “It’s foolish to start a war with the Marauders, and imprisoning over two hundred of Kalin’s people will certainly accomplish that.”

“But having killed them won’t?” Beorin asked sarcastically.

“It might,” I admitted. “But this is the Game, and dying is… not unusual. The Marauders’ deaths will hurt Kalin—enrage him, even—but they won’t escalate matters the way imprisoning his followers will.” What I did not say, but thought, was that holding the Marauders in a guild prison might set Kalin down a path I didn’t want him to go.

Right now, the Power didn’t know who I was, and if he leaped to the same conclusions Yzark had, he would believe I worked for Loken. Kalin discovering my real identity—something he might do if he started digging into my connection with the guild—would jeopardize all that and undo everything I’d accomplished with the Marauders so far.

“Hmm,” the dwarf said, not disagreeing but not approving either. “So, you’ve made up your mind?”

“I have.”

“And you sure you want to let them go?”

“I am.

Beorin sighed. “On your head be it then.” Swinging around, he turned to go.

“One more thing, Beorin,” I said, stopping him.

He glanced over his shoulder.

“I know the guild controls its own sectors. But I’ve been wondering: how can that be?”

The dwarf blinked, perplexed by the seeming randomness of my query. “What are you on about now, boy?”

“The bounty hunters guild is not a Game-faction, right?”

He nodded.

“How can it own a sector, then? I thought only factions could do that.”

“Ah, I see the source of your confusion now.” Beorin turned around to face me fully. “You’re right: only Powers can create factions, and only factions can own sectors. But there are Powers, and then there are Powers.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

He grinned, seeming to take delight in my confusion. “Oh, only that some Powers are as mercenary as the guild. More so, in fact.”

I stared at him blankly, then caught on. “The guild has made a deal with one of the Powers,” I breathed.

He nodded. “Smart boy.”

“A Pact,” I said. “It must be a Pact you’ve formed. The guild gets all the rights of a faction while retaining its autonomy, and in exchange, the Power gets…” My brows crinkled. “What does the Power get?”

“Money,” Beorin added succinctly. “Money and artifacts.”

I nodded slowly. “Which Power has the guild formed its Pact with?”

Beorin shrugged. “No idea. You’ll have to speak to Hannah if you want to know that. Or perhaps the guildmaster.” He paused. “Now, are we done here?”

I nodded absently. “Thanks for everything, Beorin.”

“I won’t say it’s been a pleasure,” he replied. “But it’s been… interesting. Goodbye, lad.”