Grand Game 284: Wyvern’s Roost (Patreon)

I left the bounty hunters’ glade deep in thought.

Matters with the Marauders were far from resolved, and I was certain my actions would have repercussions. But the situation had also revealed an unforeseen opportunity.

I’d spent most of last night pondering what the Marauders were doing in the sector, their goals, and how they hoped to achieve them.

Cara and Shael had called the Marauders power brokers, and therein, I knew, lay the answer. The tavern was just the start. A means to an end for Kalin and his people. The Power had his eyes on the entire sector.

He wanted to own it.

Kalin must believe he could gain control of the valley, and whatever his strategy, it couldn’t depend on might of arms—how could it when the three major Powers in the sector outnumbered him significantly?

No, Kalin had to be relying on something else: be it subtlety, duplicity, or just plain-old diplomacy. Coming to that realization sparked an interesting question: if the Marauders can do it, why can’t I?

At first glance, the idea appeared ludicrous.

There was one very large and obvious hurdle to me owning any sector: I had no faction. Thinking of sectors and factions is what had spurred the questions I’d put to Beorin.

I had been peripherally aware that the guild owned dungeons—Hannah had told me so ages ago—but until today, I’d never had occasion to wonder how they managed that feat.

Now, I knew.

And it sent my mind into overdrive.

Can it be done? I wondered. Could I control the sector? Maybe. It would not be easy, though. I laughed. That was an understatement. But the pieces were all in place, or nearly so.

It would require only a little… finesse.

And time. Lots of time. I smiled, daydreaming of what it would mean to rule the valley.

✵ ✵ ✵

I was still lost in my plotting when I entered the safe zone.

As I strolled down the tavern’s street, I noted that the Marauders’ blockades were gone. A pair of bounty hunters stood watchful guard in their place.

Nodding to them in greeting, I entered the tavern.

It was lunchtime, and the common room was packed. The players inside were mainly from the smaller factions in the valley, and I didn’t spot anyone bearing Muriel’s, Tartar’s, or Loken’s Marks. From what Saya told me, the bigger factions’ soldiers didn’t frequent the tavern much, having their own private drinking rooms.

Still, there was no denying the room was full. I smiled in pleasure. This, I thought, eyeing the boisterous crowd, was the direct result of my efforts last night.

Scanning the room, I spotted Saya sitting at one of the tables with Cara. Shael was on the stage, entertaining the crowd. The twins were about, too, looking harried as they attended to the patrons. Near simultaneously, both turned in the direction of the open door—and scowled on catching sight of me.

My brows drew down. Now, what’s gotten into them?

“You promised,” Teresa mouthed from across the room.

Oh, right. I was supposed to take the pair out hunting this morning. Oops.

But I had come bearing gifts, so maybe that would cheer them up. They looked awfully busy right now, though. I’ll talk to them later, I decided. Striding through the room, I made my way to Cara and Saya’s table.

“Morning,” I said cheerfully. I glanced out the open door. “Or is it afternoon?”

The pair looked up, and Cara inclined her cowled head. “Welcome back,” she said.

Saya’s greeting was more exuberant. “Michael! Thank the Powers. I thought something happened. I’ve been waiting to hear back from you all morning.” She lowered her voice. “It went well, I take it?”

In the act of sitting, I paused. “What did?”

“You know,” the gnome said, gesturing impatiently to the crowded room. “Whatever you did to cause this.”

I sat down. “Ah. Yes, it did. Although, I can’t promise my… fix will hold.”

Saya waved aside my warning. “Tell me everything,” she demanded, practically bouncing in her chair from excitement.

“Perhaps some food and drink are in order first?” Cara interjected, sounding amused. Turning to me, she ran her gaze over me. “Long night?”

“Very,” I said, slumping back in my chair.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Saya apologized, finally noticing my bedraggled state. “I didn’t realize. Let me get you something.” Before I could say anything, she rose to her feet and dashed away.

Cara followed the departing gnome with her eyes. “We’ve been chatting.”

“Hmm? What about?”

“You made a wise choice in choosing her for this. Saya loves the tavern and has a natural knack for business.” She laughed suddenly. “Something I have no flair for myself.”

I cocked my head, finding the comment strange. “Oh? I thought that was a prerequisite for the job,” I joked. “Don’t all merchants love business?”

In the act of reaching for her mug, Cara froze.

“Sorry,” I said, sensing something amiss. “Did something I say offend?”

“No…”

“Whatever it is, I apologize.”

“It’s not that,” Cara said and took a long sip from her mug. “You didn’t offend me. Your words reminded me of… things I would rather not remember.” She fell silent again.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” I assured her. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to explain.”

“It’s no secret.” She sighed. “It’s just that I’ve spent so long trying to forget it’s hard to talk about.”

Saying nothing, I waited. If Cara wanted to tell me what was bothering her, she would.

“I’m not a merchant,” she said eventually.

I frowned. “Of course you are.”

Cara shook her head. “No. I have aether magic. But I’m not a civilian. Nor do I belong to the merchant Class.”

I didn’t know what to say. Cara wasn’t a merchant? That made no sense.

Cara noticed my confusion. “A long time ago, I did something… Something that caused me to become forsworn.” I felt her eyes on me again. “Do you know what that means?”

I shook my head mutely.

“Not surprising,” she whispered. “Few do. I’m a sworn who betrayed her goddess.”

I stared at her, hardly able to comprehend what that meant. Cara’s past and the air of mystery her agent’s robes gave her had always intrigued me, but I hadn’t expected this. “I didn’t think that was possible,” I said solemnly.

Cara laughed hollowly. “Oh, it’s possible, if exceedingly rare.” She paused. “It’s even rarer to survive such a betrayal.”

“What did you do?” I asked quietly.

Cara sighed. “Perhaps, one day I’ll tell you. But not today.”

Respecting her answer, I didn’t pursue the matter further. “But… how did you go from being forsworn to becoming Kesh’s agent?”

“Kesh bought my debt.”

“Bought?” I asked sharply.

Cara nodded absently, her thoughts far away. “I’m indebted to her until the end of my days.”

Shock lashed me. “Kesh enslaved you?”

Cara refocused on me. “No, she saved me.”

Her words threw me again. “What?”

“Do you know what it means to be a forsworn?” she asked rhetorically. “It’s like being a criminal, except you don’t just bear the shame of your misdeeds in one sector. They follow you wherever you go. Without my robe, I would be revealed as a forsworn.” She shivered. “We are hunted wherever we go and considered fair game by everyone. It’s another reason why few of us exist.”

“Except those who become Kesh’s agents?” I asked.

She nodded. “Exactly.”

“Are the rest of Kesh’s agents forsworn too?”

“Most are,” Cara replied.

“What about the safe zones? Can’t you take refuge in them?”

“The safe zones offer no sanctuary to the likes of us. Nor does the Adjudicator. The Game considers us oath breakers and no longer protects us. We’ve broken our Pacts, and the Powers are free to exact their wrath on us as they please.”

My lips tightened in a grim line, finally comprehending the enormity of Cara’s predicament. “The last time we spoke, Kesh mentioned your term was ending. What did she mean?”

Cara laughed darkly and gestured to her red robe. “The Triumvirate safeguard us. This robe is as much a symbol of their protection as are the enchantments woven in it. But neither comes cheaply. Nor do they last forever. At the end of our terms of service, Kesh must repurchase the Triumvirate’s goodwill.”

“I see. So, you’re a fugitive.” I paused. “Just like me.”

Tilting her head to the side, Cara studied me. “You may have more than your fair share of enemies, Michael, but you’re no fugitive.”

“Oh, but I am. I, too, have done something that the Powers despise. Only in my case, they don’t know the truth yet. If they did, I suspect I would be hunted as fanatically as the forsworn.”

“You?” Cara asked doubtfully. “What could you have possibly done to cause the Powers to hate you?”

I smiled wryly. “Perhaps, one day I’ll tell you,” I replied, deliberately echoing her words from earlier.

Before Cara could respond, Saya returned, bearing a tray overburdened with food and drink.

✵ ✵ ✵

The moment Saya sat down, Cara shifted the conversation to matters of little consequence. Wolfing down my food under Saya’s watchful eye, I didn’t object to the change, but I made a silent promise to myself to help Cara if I could.

“Now,” Saya said, leaning forward when I was done eating. “Tell us. How did it go with the Marauders?”

“I managed to dissuade them for a time,” I replied. “The bounty hunters helped. You should keep a few around, even after the present troubles with the Marauders end.”

The gnome nodded, acknowledging my suggestion. “Dissuade how?”

I grimaced. “Better you don’t know the details. But it will take Yzark’s people at least a few days to reestablish themselves.”

Saya sat back and bit her nails. “A few days… that’s good.” She shot me a glance. “I hate to ask, but do you have a more permanent solution in mind?”

I nodded. “I do, but it may take a while to pull off. A few months, even.”

Saya’s lips turned down, but she didn’t protest. “We’ll manage until then.” Reaching across the table, she gripped my hands in wordless thanks.

I squeezed back and glanced around the room. “Things seemed to have gone back to normal pretty quickly. You had no problems last night?”

“None,” Saya replied.

“That’s good.” I turned to Cara. “How did the hunt for a premise go?”

Cara sighed. “Poorly.”

“Oh?”

“As you can imagine, all the best shops have already been taken. But no one wants to sell even the fringe locations, no matter the price.” She shook her head. “I fear they’ve decided to band together against the competition.”

“What about that abandoned cottage you were telling me about?” Saya asked. “Did you manage to find the owner yet?”

I glanced at Saya. “What’s this?”

It was Cara who answered. “There’s an unoccupied cabin at the southern edge of the safe zone. It’s poorly situated, true, but at this point, anything will do. Unfortunately, no one has been able to track down the owner.”

I pursed my lips, having a suspicion as to which building she referred to. “What’s the owner’s name?”

“Mariga,” Cara answered. “A single name is not much to go on, but Kesh has her people on it.” She shrugged. “They will trace the player’s whereabouts eventually. It will take time, though.”

I leaned back in my chair. I knew who Mariga was, of course, and why Cara couldn’t find her, but while my pact with Arinna’s envoy was over, I didn’t think it prudent to reveal the Light player’s identity. “I think I may have a way of reaching her.”

Cara and Saya looked at me curiously, but they didn’t ask how, and for a time, the conversation lapsed.

“So, what’s next for you?” Saya asked.

“I have a few other things to attend to in the valley,” I replied, thinking of the wolves, “then I will see about acting on the second part of my plan for the Marauders...” Retrieving my alchemy stone and bags of holding from my backpack, I plopped them down before Cara. “Which reminds me, how much do you think I can get for all this?”

“Really, Michael? You couldn’t wait until after lunch?” Saya asked wryly.

I started guiltily in belated recognition that this was perhaps not the most opportune moment to conduct business. “Sorry,” I said, reaching for the bags again, “we can talk—

Cara stopped me. “No, it’s alright.” Laying her hands over the bags, she interrogated the contents. “There is a lot here,” Cara murmured.

I nodded.

“It will take a while to offload all of this,” Cara continued, “but I believe Kesh will be able to give you… twenty-five thousand for everything.”

Saya gasped.

My lips turned down. “That’s all?”

Twenty-five thousand equated to about one hundred gold for each Marauder’s gear. Granted, I’d kept the choicest items for myself and had been forced to leave a fair amount behind, but I’d expected a better return.

“M-more?” Saya whispered, her voice sounding strangled. “You want… more?”

“You know Kesh’s policy on high-ranked items,” Cara chided me. “Some of this equipment will be resold to the original owners at a discount.” She paused. “But you could always set those pieces aside and sell them through another merchant if that’s what you want?”

Sighing, I waved aside her suggestion. I didn’t have the time for that, nor did I want to attract the attention that selling the Marauders’ gear would bring. “Twenty-five thousand will do. Split the funds between my account and the tavern’s.”

I glanced at Saya apologetically. “I was forced to drain the tavern’s funds to equip myself, but with what’s there now and assuming the Marauders resume their antics, will you be able to keep the tavern going for the next few months?”

Saya nodded faintly, her eyes still round.

“Good.” I slid the bags into Cara’s keeping, and she completed the transaction.

You have lost 240 caches of miscellaneous items and 32 sets of crafting gear.

You have gained 12,500 golds. Money remaining in your bank account: 15,455 gold coins.

The tavern has gained 12,500 golds. Money remaining in the Sleepy Inn’s bank account: 14,850 gold coins.

I rubbed my chin on seeing the last Game alert, reminded of something. “You know, Saya… we still haven’t gotten around to changing the tavern’s name. You have anything in mind?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “What do you think about Wyvern’s Roost? I figured it would be appropriate since, you know, that’s where—”

“—we met,” I finished. “I like it.” Best of all, it contained no hint of Wolf. “Wyvern’s Roost it is.”