He kept his word. A few minutes later and the Runecrafter was hiding the Slave Rune in Zagul's neck. He was given a sword, a horse, provisions for a week, some survival tools and most importantly, decent clothes. Average by Vyzar standings but impressive for Petruvia or Asuwa. But here? Commoner clothes at worst, worker that earns thrice the minimal wage at best. The final thin he was given was an order, a mission to retrieve the Draconic Iridium if possible. And a good thing that Richardson was stupid enough to say if possible, and not at all costs. Maybe he isn't as fit for the role of Foreman as he claimed to be.
Sure, Zagul was unaware of his actual objectives with all the Foreman thing, but to not actually perform was still confusing. That doesn't really matter right now as he needs to focus on how he's exactly going to steal the fucking crystal, as it will be guarded by Jay'Ky, a Martial Artist and whatever extra guards there might be for Zagul to deal with. Their route is the main roads and streets to Edhelraen, no deviation from it, even more so thanks to Richardson and his stupid line of thinking. Cut one month worth the sailing and sacrifice almost everything in exchange. A wise move for sure.
But again, how? Heavily guarded on a well crowded route already hours in front. They will be on guard since they are bringing a sacred artifact or magic fuel stone to their country, meaning that doing it in the wilderness is a death sentence, might as well write a heritage letter beforehand. If he must he can try, but the better chances to do it are on towns, cities and maybe villages. What he needs to find is a similar looking crystal to swap with the legit one and bail as soon as possible. If he is caught in this, done, dead and buried in the spot. Too many room for errors and too many “ifs” and “shoulds” here.
As Zagul rode his horse on the road leaving the coastal town, he decided to properly plan his moves with ease and calmness. The more he rushed things the worst would be the outcome. He has resources that a travelling merchant or adventurer might have, the lack of armor existing in this case. He is traveling light for all intents and purposes, meaning he can sneak more easily. His species is more common on Vyzar than in Petruvia, so he might be able to blend with the crowd better, not to mention his forgettable clothes that also blend in the environment. What Zagul doesn't have have the skills needed for this to work flawlessly, meaning he either needs to practice or find someone that is willing to help him in any possible way.
Look, getting information? He can do that, no problem. Negotiations, diplomacy and barter? Easy, since he has previous experience with it. Now pickpocketing? He has no clue how this works, not he wants to. But he also won't be able to trust that much in a person who he just met, meaning he will need to become a criminal and hopefully find someone trustworthy enough so he can perform this mission without much delay. Calculating in his mind, he will take half the a month to get to Edhelraen alone with few stops and few minutes of rest. The horse might not like it but he needs to always keep moving. Meanwhile the caravan escorting the crystal and Fynsell will take half the winter, maybe more to get there at the same place. He has a month worth of time to build enough a reputation to then recruit and plan how to do this.
“Sounds like a start.”, He commented to himself and he kicked the side of the horse.
He galloped away, trusting that his plan will work.
----------------------------------------
Meanwhile with Connor, everyone just clocked their arrival at Surio, making sure to not face any illegal consequences because they didn't register in the border. Everyone is looking to rest a bit before going into any traveling to Edhelraen, so Zhivko gave (and demanded) everyone take it easy for five days. That of course is an exception for the slaves who will continue to “dutifully” work as long as their owners want them to do so. One of which was to create a small guerrilla, with 10 or so slaves to do mercenary work or general hard laboring for the Capital. That was done just as they finished registration, much to Donovan's and Yuri's annoyance. Connor didn't like it either but he didn't work as much as anyone else so… yeah.
And, let me tell you. What isn't hard to find is work, because as soon as they were given a dagger or a knife, they were immediately asked to help with something. Richardson took initiative to negotiate, something that the Captain wasn't totally against it, no need to explain why, so everything went smoothly as far as he could tell. The small army was divided in two squads, one for laboring and the other for mercenary, with Connor, Yuri, Donovan and two slaves in the guerilla. The other five were also already goin through their own mission to build a barn outside the town. Everything should gather around three hundred Pecunious, which by Connor's math should be around 5 thousand dollars in gold coins. He knows for a fact that a brick costs a lot and looking by the pouches of coins negotiated, it was a fairly decent deal. Then again, he doesn't know the purity level of the coins nor if they are the same currency. He just assumed that every country uses Pecunious. To clarify that, Donovan those coins are made of a combination of gold and silver and are called Gesterados.
Connor decided to not understand it anymore.
Mostly because he was more preoccupied with what job he will be doing. Mercenaries can do a lot of things, but killing is among the most of them. He can only be glad that they didn't form a group of Assassins, because this way he wouldn't be able to spare the target, since assassins never do alive, in case you couldn't tell. From what the Wood Elf could understand, they are helping the local law force. It was apparently the local guards and military that asked specifically to Richardson, apparently a good thing for everyone as he again got negotiations going.
They all gathered in the local park to discuss this. Apparently discussing mercenary work in the open is fine around here.
“Alright, listen here you maggots.”, The apparent leader of the guards started, not so politely as you can tell, “I am Sargent Pravty, currently in command of a operation to hunt and detain certain individuals producing narcotics with their magic. We got reports of their whereabouts, but lacked the manpower needed to actually perform the mission. And since we got budget to spare, your disposable pricks were chosen for this task.”
Another guard with some papers in his hands walked forth, “The mission is very simple really. You will serve as our front line, following the orders of our Sargent. Attack when we order and everything should be fine.”
“Seems straightforward.”, The unknown slave commented, thinking it was low enough for anyone to hear.
“Yeah, simple enough for your imbeciles to understand.”, The Sargent jabbed at the slave, who quickly shut up.
Connor didn't like him already, despite not really understand most of his words. He did understand the word “imbecile”.
“Alright, I will let them on your hands.”, Richardson offered a hand to Pravty, “As soon as it is finished, send those who survived back to me.”
The Sargent shook his hand, “Of course.”
Yuri started to explain the job to Connor, just in case he didn't get a word that was said.
Meanwhile, Richardson was doing another lucrative thing. He needed to get his mind out of the scolding that Fynsell of all people gave to him. Be reprimanded by the representative? That's fine when said representative isn't a disowned daughter that is a walking shame. If he could the Foreman would put her in her place, maybe enslave her and sell for a high price, but he remained silent. Bickering with the True Elf won't give anything in return, much less his family. What will give him a good amount of profit will be selling the woman that were used ad abused by McTavish and the Dragonkin. Selling them will find future endeavors and most likely give back some respect that he so rightfully deserves.
“Better get moving.”, He said to himself, a half smile covering his inner feelings.
“Pardon me.”
Richardson looked at the figure. It was a man using a suit, worthy of people who mastered entrepreneurship, marketing, wealth and the like, akin to a business man in his casual stroll on the town. However, even with all their class and finesse, the person used a mask of a Jester and said object has bells that softly jiggled as he moved. A figure so puzzling and at the same time… Royal, as confusing and contradictory as it is.
“Who might you be?”, The Foreman asked, still not sure how to react.
“I am simply a Jester, my good sir.”, He posed as a stereotypical gentleman, “But in all seriousness I can muster, I'd like to make a deal with thy person.”
Richardson blinked, sighed and waved him off as he walked away, “Look pal, I have places to be. Someone might be interested, but that ain't me.”
Jester appeared again right in front of him, “Well, I am sure you and me can get to an agreement, after all, I know you want a certain crystal.”
His mask showed a smile, a devilish one. The comment made Richardson stop and rethink his next words. Who this man might be? And why he has this uncanny feeling of danger? How does he know about his plans? Questions rose up in his mind as he faced the Jesters again, this time, not as carefree as before.
“Elaborate.”, He said, gesturing the clown to follow.
“Oh, it's just a think I need to do in order for my… let's just say client, wants done.”, He did quotation marks with his fingers as the mask followed every emotion his voice carried, “We help you with that, while you help us with something.”
“That would be?”
“No foreplay?”, The Jesters put a hand in his chest, absolutely shocked, but quickly rearranged his tie as he recomposed himself, “I don't judge. Most people want to the watermelon sugar anyway.”
A groan was all Richardson could give at the innuendo, “If you are willing to assist me, the means you will ask something of equal or grand value. I don't know if I have the monetary gains for it.”
“A reasonable segment of thoughts, I suppose.”, The man nodded to himself, as if he discovered something important, “It's not a big deal for you tho’. I will handle the politics and whatnot.”
“The Nyëthilhands, you mean.”
The Jester snapped his fingers, “Yup! All you need to do is make sure the Lacerta you sent actually succeeds.”
Well, that makes sense. If Zagul can keep his fair share of the deal he might—
“Wait, how do you…?”
He was gone, but a voice still echoed in the surroundings, “Keep the good work, sunshine.”
“...What the fuck?”
----------------------------------------
A few hours later, White Carbon Facility
As the contract stated, Connor and company were going to assist the guards take down the narcotic-dealership. It wasn't on the hoods and poverty areas as he presumedly thought, but rather in an actual factory in board daylight downtown. But that isn't what was bothering him and Yuri and Donovan could see it. The Wood Elf avoided the thought of him killing that Sharpshooter for a good while now, but it's not because he will most likely offer mercy that his enemies will return such chivalry. In fact they might as well exploit the weakness that his no kill rule causes to force him make mistakes with hostages or a stalemate. Connor worries that this might force him to kill again, thus reliving the sight he doesn't even want to dream of.
Easier said than done, because the factory in surrounded by a good few guards as the five slaves prepare to go in, taking the risk the guards were supposed to take, at least in Connor's eyes, but well… Can't have much of a voice being a slave, even if you are correct.
On other things, this breach, breakthrough, push or whatever will be very hard to pull, since they don't have the layout of the place. They will go blind in enemy territory that said enemy will have all the advantages they can possibly have, meanwhile you have a squad of slaves against more experienced criminals. The criminals themselves are only trapped inside the factory because the guards were quick enough to circle the place and put a makeshift siege thing that they could control who came in and out. So far, both sides got wounded as well as casualties, hence why slaves are being used, a suggestion proposed by Sargent Pravty himself. Another thing that made Connor dislike the guard even more.
All he has is a dagger to defend himself, the warmth breath making steam on the air as the cold environment contrasted it. Yuri seemed focused, Donovan adamant, but still good enough for a fight, even with his half healed injuries. The other two slaves weren't so hot, maybe even more scared of death or harm than Connor was, but for different reasons. All they have right now are the skills they developed all their lives, nothing else.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Go forward, slaves.”, Pravty ordered as he held the hilt of his sword.
“Aye aye.”, Yuri was the first to give some response.
Everyone followed the Aborigine into the factory, tension palpable in the air. They moved cautiously, every creak and whisper amplified in the silence. The lit interior was filled with the scent of chemicals and machinery hum, creating an eerie backdrop to their mission. Connor's mind raced, every step a reminder of his precarious position. He couldn't afford any mistakes, not just for his own sake, but for the sake of his friends. As they approached the first corridor, a muffled sound of voices came from a room ahead. Yuri signaled everyone to halt, listening intently.
“Seriously, how did they find us out?!”, One of them shouted in anger, displeased with the overall situation.
“Well, when I told you all that we were too comfortable with our stock and selling, you all ignored me and downplayed my concerns! But boo fucking hoo, now we are fucked and it's everyone's problem!”, Another one, probably younger than the others, defended himself with a solid argument.
“There is no point now! We are surrounded and we need to come up with a plan!”, A big guy said, much to everyone's surprise.
“Now you of all people decided to sound wise all of a sudden?! Fuck off, you piece of shit!”
Donovan counted how many people are in that room.
"We're outnumbered," Donovan muttered under his breath, his knuckles white from gripping his weapon too tightly.
“Don't stress." Yuri whispered back, his eyes scanning the surroundings, “Gotta make it clean or scramble ourselves.”
“What are we going to do?”, One of the slaves asked.
“[What do you think, Connor?]”, Yuri turned to the Wood Elf, “[Any plans?]”
“[Me? I-I don't know.]”, He stuttered, not counting on being included in the conversation, “[I believe we should scout every other place, you know, to confirm the number of criminals…?]”
“It's worth a shot.”, Donovan nodded.
“Then we can smash them before they smash us.”, Yuri seemed enthusiastic, as per usual.
“You two can check upstairs,”, Donovan pointed with his thumb to the staircase beside them, “while we will check down here. Make sure to count everything and everyone.”
The two slaves nodded and left.
“[What about us?]”, Connor asked as he saw the slaves leaving.
“[Let's check the other rooms and find any dirt. If nothing is found we go get ‘em.]”, Yuri was with his dagger ready as he finished his sentence.
Connor stared. Then grabbed his know dagger.
They spread out through the corridors and rooms,checking every look and cranny of the factory. Some of the machinery was still working, producing a white like powder substance that the Wood Elf wasn't sure if it was a drug that he knew or a different one that looked similar, but he wouldn't check it for himself. There were also some chemical vials with various colors and substances, most of them labeled with a big exclamation mark, probably indication that it was a dangerous hazard if moved unsafely. If someone was supposed to be here, he didn't do his job to turn off the power or magic, electricity or whatever that fueled the heavy work the machines are doing.
The next room was the stash, filled with things that Connor could only label in two categories, Cash and Stock. He opened a bag and found both Gesterados and Pecunious, as well as another currency he was not sure where it came from not it's name. The Stock had both the drugs being produced and others that were stocked here, probably being held to sell another time. Again, nothing that he would confirm himself since he didn't even like cigarettes, imagine drugs. If it was a new brand of beer, wine or whiskey on the other hand…
Moving to another room—
“Dodge!”
An axe almost decapitated the Elf as he ducked the attack inches from hitting his head, rolling out of the way. The perpetrator pulled the ax that got stuck on the wall with ease, already rushing to continue his swings to the still unprepared trespasser. If not for Hughes, Connor would already be dead at this point, but the fact that this guy, whoever it is, managed to sneak behind him so perfectly gave a good amount of red flags. Connor unsheathed his blade, remembering the little lessons Abe gave him months ago.
Well, he tried to, as he was too frightened to actually retaliate. The swing of the axe came downwards cutting the air as Connor sidestepped, putting his back against the wall. He had an opportunity to stab him, but didn't. Unlike the Wood Elf, the human criminal rushed to strike once more, hitting try wall again as he escaped the consequences of such action. He stumbled on his own feet and fell on top of a table, breaking it in the process, forcing himself to roll out of the way it yet another strike of the axe. This time however, instead of using the axe again, he immediately left it stuck on the piece of furniture and tackled the Elf, holding him in a choke position on the neck.
With a quick takedown, the human was doing a rear naked choke on the Elf as he was thrown to the ground, his head facing the pavement. The same sensation of having his lungs beg for air and the blood not reaching where it needs to be caught Connor in full strength, making his survival instincts kick in to save his life. His hands moved on his own, the dagger piercing the thigh of the criminal. He didn't even scream in pain, but it was enough to make him stop the choking. Pulling out the dagger, blood spurted out, the Wood Elf using it asking to strike the man's torso, who managed to deviate the damage to his arms instead. A punch of the human was enough to make Connor wince in pain as his back hits the ground, again thanks to the broken furniture of the room. He managed to get up, but was held by the criminal and thrown away near one of the machinery.
Being again brought up, Connor had a intimate relationship with the fist of said Criminal and his face, as he got punched three times on it, a knee to the stomach at the same time for good measure. This knee, despite painful, proved to buy enough time to Connor slash the guy's stomach deep enough for the man to back away in pain. The Wood Elf immediately grabbed the man and pushed him from one side of the room to the other, stabbing him as they crossed the place and threw him on the still working heavy machinery. The next scene can only be described by what would be an horror movie.
The man fell on the machinery, the crushing gears breaking his bones and tearing up the flesh, a moisty noise coming up as the screams of pain were silenced. The blood spilling from Connor, to the machinery and all the way we're the drugs came off of, a few pieces of meat, human meat falling over, dripping more blood on the room. Connor couldn't even look at the scene without wanting to puke his insides out. He looked at his hands, again feeling that they didn't belong to him, the dagger feeling heavier despite having the same weight as before.
He said nothing, not even when the others came to the room. The guards already came in, looking at the mess that was, the smell of iron and the disgusting pieces of what once was a person scattered around. Connor has some bruises and minor cuts, but overall he is fine, mostly thanks do Hughes. The Sargent looked at the machinery and used a scroll with a pre written spell, the results showing something he didn't like. The Wood Elf was still in his little world with big probmes to actually register everything that was happening, this not being what he expected. This was worse, worse than shooting someone and killing them. A person was turned into a literal pulp, a pool of blood—
*SLAP*
“We were supposed to take them alive you idiot!”
Pravty slapped the slave with the back of his hand. Connor didn't understand why he was slapped and the fact that the Sargent was screaming at him, constantly putting his finger in his face didn't help him at all. He was thankful that the slap was the thing putting him back at reality, but at the same time he felt even more ashamed, an emotion that the Sargent thought it was fitting, thus being satisfied with his scolding. The others arrived at the scene as the berating was happening and could only watch in silence. Yuri and Donovan came with the news that the other slaves had died in combat but not a single guard cared enough to even show a slight reaction.
“Lad, allow me to say. You will need to accept the fact that the act of killing is not as ostricized as it was in your past life.”, Hughes tried to console his Twinsoul, “After all, they won't offer you the same courtesy.”
“I don't want to turn myself into them, Hughes.”, Connor protested, “I want to be better, stronger and worthy of my change. I don't want to be forced into something I don't want to.”
“The problem is that there are things that are out of our control, regardless of our wants and needs.”, Hughes patiently explained, with a Father to Son aesthetic, “The only thing we can do is endure.”
The guards took care of the things, the slaves being sent back to their owner with a bag of coins. Donovan and Yuri wanted to say something, but they didn't know what to since they never met someone with such loathe to the idea of killing even when it's rightfully deserved. As they got back to Richardson and the caravan, they were allowed to eat something before going again to the next contract tomorrow. Connor asked for a plain meal as he kept thinking about what happened.
A death more gruesome that he could imagine, the pain unmatched as it would be like torture living in reality before you were allowed to die. It's a terrifying thought to be denied of a rest, to have a break, a moment that the pain would just stop. He died and even that wasn't as painful as that seemed to be. Connor, Daniel was shot twice and that was already an experience that he didn't war to share with his worst enemy. Putting that to compare was not even close. The barista came and left the plate on the table, leaving immediately, a treatment that Connor didn't even bother to care or call out anymore, as everyone would just call him a slave and leave.
As he was putting the first spoon in his mouth he heard someone taking to him. An old lady, probably in her 80s or 90s of human age, an miracle in itself.
“Life has been really tough for you, right darling?”
That, that made him pause.
“Oh, don't worry about me. I can see a poor soul when they get close to me.”, Her voice was exactly what a grandmother would sound like, calm, sooth and warm.
A feeling that Connor didn't recognize at first.
“How did you…?”
“I lived a looong life, sweetie.”, She said, leaning forward slightly, “You probably haven't experienced genuine happiness in a good while, no?”
Connor again, paused for a while, “No. I haven't.”
“Let me say a good few words for you, boy.”, She stopped to drink the soup she was eating directly from the bowl, “Keep living that eventually, the moment you long for, it will happen. Everything has it's time. You just gotta forget what you are feeling and remember what you actually deserve.”
“Deserve…?”
“Yes!”, The Elderly Woman laughed a bit, “I don't mean to you to become cold and unforgiving, but about taking care of yourself, living your life expecting nothing from anyone. Dealing with your own problems is already a hassle am I right?”
They both chuckled to each other. Connor couldn't really say that the lady is wrong.
“Still, if I haven't made the mistakes I made in the past I doubt I'd be here.”, The Elf said with a wry smile.
“Boy, you wouldn't be half the person you are today if everything that happened to you didn't happen, be them good or bad.”, She put a hand on his shoulder, “Look where you are right now, you are strong. Just keep going and don't scream at fate, after all, everything has a purpose, some easier to understand than others, but you get what I mean.”
He smile once more, this time, feeling a sense of security that he was grateful of having.
“Today, you only watch and give applauses. But tomorrow…”, She looked at him in the eyes, connecting with his souls, “...you shaw present the spectacle.”
She then paid the cashier for the plate of food and waved goodbye.
“I guess I needed to hear that.”, Connor admitted.
“Way more powerful than anything I can muster.”
This comment of Hughes somehow carried happy tears. Then he realized that they also came from himself. He quickly cleaned his face and confused on the food before Yuri or Donovan could sit on the table.
----------------------------------------
A week later, road to Edhelraen
It started snowing, much for Zagul's annoyance and also relief. The former because it would delay him and the latter because it also applied for Fynsell and her escort. It is also worth to mention that Zagul will mostly be freezing thanks to his blood, but oh well. Thankfully enough he already passed them and increased the distance by maybe a day or so, meaning that this snow increased the gap, but that doesn't mean Zagul will slack off or anything. For his plan to form up a crew to work he needs to be as fast as inhumanly possible.
Then it dawned on him that he doesn't exactly need a crew. It has too many variables and unpredictability, so this was Plan B in case he didn't find a suitable way to get the crystal. But he needs to get it somehow, but when? He can get it as fast as possible, but that would be too troublesome since the escort can track him and doing it too late will transform this in a cat-mouse situation, which Zagul also didn't want to deal with. And quite honestly, doing a full fledged plan sounds nice but a complete thing thank time, and time is of the essence right now. He needs to use the resources available.
Then it dawned on him that he is on a road, surrounded by wildlife and wilderness. That can help a lot more than any army if he uses it correctly. He is going to take a similar strategy that McTavish used, but twist enough for it to make a decent distraction as he grabs the crystal. That sounded way better then anything the Lacerta could come up with right now, but since he can't use magic or has access to magically altered meat, he is going to do it the old fashioned way.
Zagul sighed to himself as he gives slight pets to the horse who is trying his best to gallop in the snow. He spotted a village not far away from where he was, so he planned on taking a rest there for a few hours before resuming his work, not forgetting the horse who also needed it. He was immediately greeted as if he was always a reoccurring visitor, maybe the fact that he is Vyzerian helped, but still, a little too forthcoming for his tastes. It made him remember Yuri who seemed to always get the good side of whoever he speaks to. Donovan is alright, he guesses as much. From what Yuri told him the comraderie that he showed was because he didn't really have any options aside from allying himself with them, which was a surprising thing since he did everything to the utmost excellence.
Maybe he is searching on his own the Twinsoul stuff they got, which made Zagul remember that he should also search for it while he as the chance. The village doesn't have any bookstores or libraries, but it has the commoners who heard such stories. Well, rumors, but a rumor exists because it has a reason to, even if based on superficial stuff. Then again the more people know a secret the less likely it is for it to remain unknown.
“Gotta get to work.”