Chapter 81: A Hard Won Party

Missive from the desk of Internal Affairs, the Hub, Player Incarceration Office:

It has come to our attention that a player, one Astor Briggs, is being held without trial in the dungeons of the King City. We have reviewed his case, and found reason for his immediate release today. The evidence for his being held is shaky at best, and relies on the witness testimony of several clearly inebriated individuals and one NPC who was designed as a thief and a con man. The accused has maintained his innocence the entire time, and should be released until new evidence is put forward.

Response from the Player Incarcerations Department, Kings City, Avalon:

Astor Briggs is a highly dangerous and unstable individual, and it is highly irregular for such a demand to come from the Internal Affairs office. Astor Briggs is NOT being held without trial, as his trial is scheduled for next week. Right now he is being held in a comfy cell, and not a dungeon, and he is receiving fair counsel from an experienced Lawyer class player. The evidence against him is not shaky in the least, and it would be dangerous to release such a player back into the public.

Response from the Desk of Internal Affairs, the Hub:

You seem to be under the impression that I sent you a suggestion or a request. This order is coming straight from the TOP, and cannot be ignored. Failure to comply will begin a full inquiry into the Player Incarceration Office, and immediate actions will be taken to remove you, and any staff or enforcers who are keeping Astor illegally. If your next letter is not confirmation that Astor Briggs has been released then a complete Department Squad will be sent to personally relieve you of command and free Astor. You have been warned.

Final response from the Player Incarnation Office, Kings city, Avalon:

Please forgive my associate, as he did not understand the extenuating circumstances of Astor Briggs’ case. The accused has been released from his cell and his possessions have been returned to him. We have also destroyed the records of his ever being held by us. We look forward to continued cooperation with the Internal Affairs office, and with the Old Guard.

After the matched ended was a blur for Brent. An NPC had to come to him to remove the enchantment from his chest. The process felt as though a small elephant was standing on his chest, as the NPC had to apply a chest shaped device on him and then press with all his weight. Brent could feel the magic leaving his body but it took over ten minutes to clear the spell. As he did so, Chase and the guild spoke with the man who had been talking to him. Most of the other players who had stormed the stage had taken Georgio and his broken arm away to receive his award, and Christie had gone with them. The arena was mostly empty now as players had departed to eat lunch as they awaited the female matches to begin.

“I understand you want to keep a low profile,” said Grady, the man who had spoken to Brent.

“We do,” said Chase. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Well, the Hard Won Warriors may be mercenaries but we also understand a bit of stealth when the moment calls for it.”

“It’s just, we aren’t ready for that kind of exposure quite yet.”

“Of course, of course,” said Grady, raising his hands. “Birchtown is too small and there may be some ears listening, eh?”

“That’s what we fear,” said Chase, looking around the arena. The rest of the guild was standing around. Grady’s guild, the Hard Won Warriors, as he had introduced them, we’re smiling and joking around with Alex and Claire. One of them was play wrestling with Thomas whilst Amelie was sitting tiredly on the ground as she listened.

“Well, please, I beg of you, Chase,” said Grady. “Allow us to return the favor, at least today. Come with us for a few drinks so that we can toast the ones who saved us. Without you, we may still be squealing pigs in that blasted woman’s prison.”

“Weren’t much of a prison,” said a younger looking mercenary. “We drank every day.”

“It was a prison,” said Grady, rounding on the young man. “What else is a place where you cannot choose to leave? No amount of alcohol or food will ever change that.”

“Is Esem a prison, then?” Said another mercenary. He had coal black hair and a long beard that was tucked into his belt. A large sword was strung across his back.

“Idiot, this isn’t the time—,” Grady smacked his face but then continued speaking with Chase. “How about it? Let us toast you! Our treat. The Hard Won Warriors are known far and wide for being cruel to our enemies and magnificent hosts to our friends. There is a fine inn called The Royal just a bit aways, how about we convene there?”

Chase thought a moment, stroking his chin. Brent thought he knew what was going through his head. Being with a group of highly trained warriors would ensure they were safe from the Followers for the time being, but The Royal Inn was a bad idea.

“Alright, Grady,” said Chase. “You got yourself a deal. But how about we camp outside of town, eh? I wouldn’t mind seeing the stars tonight with a bonfire. Tomorrow our guild is heading out.”

“A mighty, mighty suggestion, Chase!” Laughed Grady, slapping his belly.

And so it was the Seven Banes and the Hard Won Warriors found themselves outside of town, still close enough to see the buildings but far enough away that they could have some privacy. Brent found himself massaging his chest where the spell had been taken away and allowing himself to be directed. The camping spot was seemingly a well established one, with a fire pit and logs for seats arranged in a circle. Chase took Alex to retrieve Moonshine and their wagon and before long, sometimes after lunch when Brent was sure the female competition was taking place, both guilds were assembled in the camp.

“And what’s a party without some drinks!” One of the Hard Won Warriors said. He had a barrel under each arm and as he set one down it made a pleasant sloshing sound. “No one was in The Royal so I left some gold on the counter and took these. If we need more we can just pop back over for another. Someone told me the Innkeeper is missing. Likely some nefarious player mischief about.”

Chase and the others refused to make eye contact with one another at that statement. Soon there was a roaring fire despite the time of day and the Hard Won Warriors were already drinking. They produced mugs from their inventories and the toasts began.

“To freedom!” Said one mercenary.

“Down with the Antagonista!” Said another.

“To the Seven Banes!” Bellowed Grady.

Drinking with another guild of warriors had long been a desire of Brent’s, but after his loss he was more content to sit by himself and speak little. The only thing he could imagine at the moment were the final moments of his match against Georgio. He had been so close to winning, but his pride had defeated him in the end.

“What’s wrong lad?” Said one of the mercenaries. He had come over to sit beside Brent, his beer sloshing in it’s mug.

Brent shrugged.

“I lost the match.”

“Aye, so I saw,” said the man.

Brent felt a flash of annoyance but instead of responding he just took another sip of his beer. It was bitter and disgusting but it was better than his memory of Georgio.

“My name is Kurt, by the way,” said the man.

“Brent,” he said shortly.

“Brent, listen,” said Kurt. “I spawned 8 years ago. Know how many contract tournaments I lost?”

“How many,” said Brent.

“All of them!” Laughed Kurt. He gently tapped his mug against Brent’s in a half hearted toast and then took several long gulps. “It’s no shame to lose one of those. I still got three contracts to my name, after all.”

“It’s not about losing. It’s how I lost. I had a chance to beat him, right after his Frenzy ended, but instead I slapped him.”

“Aye, that was a great moment,” said Kurt wistfully. “The entire crowd gasped. And then that boy let you break his arm just to win.”

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“Yeah,” said Brent. He took another sip of his beer. “Wild.”

“You better believe that everyone who saw that will be talking about that slap, Brent. As Grady likes to say, it was a mighty, mighty moment!”

“Still…I could have won.”

Kurt slapped him on the back.

“When did you spawn?”

“About five months ago.”

“I see. And what’s your Fighter level, if I may know?”

“Level 5,” said Brent.

“Incredible!” Said Kurt genuinely. “It took my a year to get to that point. I think you need some…what’s the word?”

“Perspective,” supplied Claire, who suddenly appeared next to him.

Brent nearly jumped out of his seat.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“The entire time,” she said. Her mouth formed a hard line. “You didn’t notice?”

“Not at all,” said Brent with a shrug.

“The lady is right,” said Kurt, nodding his head. “You need perspective. You spawned five months ago and made it to the finals in your very first Contract Tournament. That is right unusual, that is. You should be proud. Not to mention, this…Georgio, was it? Spawned before you and has more levels to boot!”

“And the match was close, Brent,” said Claire. “You nearly won against an opponent with more experience.”

“Incredible!” Said Kurt. Suddenly he stood and made a toast. “To Brent and his match today!”

“BRENT!” Cheered the Hard Won Warriors. Chase and the others likewise raised their glasses and drank. Brent took a deep drink from his beer and then burped.

“I second that!” Laughed Kurt. “Here, let me get you some more.”

The day wore on until the sun began to set. The night was cool and so the fire was welcome as they huddled around it on their logs, sharing stories but mostly listening to the Hard Won Warriors regale them with tales of their deeds. If what they were saying was true, Brent realized that they were among a very select group of professional Mercenary players who had many triumphs to their name.

“There’s no Class like the Mercenary,” Grady was saying. “The moment my Advisor explained it I knew it had to be me! To think, we get paid for assisting others. Last year we got paid a handsome sum just for escorting some high society chaps around Great Nexia. Not to mention the countless priceless battles we have been hired to participate in. The money roles in, and we get richer by the day!”

“And what do you plan to do with all this money, Mr Grady?” Asked Amelie politely. She hadn’t drank much, but there was a rosy tint to her cheeks which the firelight exposed.

“Well, there’s the rub, Amelie,” said Grady. He hiccuped. “There ain’t no plan. Most of us are young enough that we could do this for years, if not until we die. Yes, there are some fine manors in the Hub we have looked into, but what would be the fun in that? Hiring servants to pour our beer? Give me the open wild of Esem any day of the week.”

“So you are all mercenaries?” Said Alex. He was beginning to slur his words together, and Brent was sure this was the drunkest he had ever been.

“Well, no,” said Grady, shrugging his burly shoulders. “We began there, and to join us you must be a Mercenary at least. That’s a contract you can only get for your second mark—and what a mighty, mighty contract it is! Why, the abilities alone make it more profitable than even the Thief class. Imagine, an ability that makes monsters drop more gold!”

“To answer your question,” said a Hard Won Warrior who was clean shaven but had sunken cheeks. “Most of us are on our third contract. We are mostly Sellswords.”

“Right!” Said Grady, raising his mug. “To my Sellswords.”

“SELLSWORDS!”

Everyone cheered, and Brent found himself cheering just as loudly as anyone else.

“Expect for me,” said Grady, a gleam in his eye as he lowered his drink. “I’m on my fourth contract.”

“What Class is that?” Said Amelie.

“Monster Hunter,” said Grady. He raised the sleeve on his left arm and allowed the fire light to reveal his contract marks. Sure enough, in a line of contract marks, the one closest to his wrist was a mark that appeared to be a monster with black eyes and a gaping mouth full of sharp teeth.

“That’s quite a challenging class,” said Chase, peering at the tattoo. “Or so I’ve heard,” he added, taking another sip of his beer.

He’s barely drinking, realized Brent. Probably worried the Followers will find us.

Brent placed his mug on the ground. He wouldn’t drink another drop that night, or so he told himself.

“It is,” said Grady, nodding his shaggy head. “Only one player in a thousand get’s the chance to sign for it, and only one in a thousand of them complete it, or so I think-never been good at math. True, I may fail,” he raised his mug towards Brent. “But victory lies in the attempt, so long as you stay true to yourself.”

All drank, and suddenly Brent found himself taking another long drink of beer.

“I’m surprised he’s a Monster Hunter,” whispered Claire to Brent.

“Why’s that,” said Brent, louder than he meant.

“Well, it’s a hard class, or so I’ve read.”

“Killing monsters doesn’t seem so bad.”

“These are big one, Brent. Each level depends on killing a single sometimes gigantic monster. The upper level ones are all mythical ones, to boot. I read the survival rate for a Monster Hunter is very low.”

“Then why do people do it?” Asked Brent. Despite the fog of alcohol he still felt curious.

“Because of the reward at the end. Any player that completes it gets an ability to turn into any animal, or monster, of their choice.”

“Wow!” Said Brent. He spilt a bit of beer on his shirt and swore. “I want to do that!”

“It would be cool,” mused Claire. “What would you turn into?”

“A dragon, obviously.”

“I think something smaller might be useful.”

“Like a cat? Why would you want to turn into a cat?”

“I didn’t say a cat,” fumed Claire, a flush coming to her cheeks. Brent realized that she wasn’t drinking too much either. “You are so hard to talk to when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!”

Claire rolled her eyes.

The night wore on, and despite the roaring fire the stars over head were bright and shining in heaven. Brent started to consider laying on his back and allowing sleep to take him. It was over 24 hours since he had slept and nothing sounded better right then than dozing off in the warmth by the fire on his seeping pallet.

Suddenly, one of the Hard Won Warriors who had been taking turns standing watch came up to Grady and whispered in her ear. The large man’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he said “Oh! Well be a gentleman, won’t you?”

“Banes and Warriors!” Said Grady, coming to his feet. He swayed slightly but his words were clear. “We are about to receive a guest!”

Chase immediately, placed his hand on his dagger.

“Relax, Chase,” said Grady with a chuckle. “This one is above repute. There she is!”

“Christie!” Said Amelie.

Christie of the Old Guard was had just entered the campground, and the fire illuminated her smiling face and shone in her auburn hair.

“I wondered where you guys were at,” she said. “I thought you had all run away as soon as the fight was over.”

“Of course not,” said Amelie. “We just…uh…wanted some peace and quiet away from Birchtown.”

“Understandable. Birchtown will be up all night celebrating the winners of the tournament,” she said. She found Brent and nodded at him. “Good fight today, Brent. I was more than impressed by your performance.”

“How is Georgio’s arm?” Said Amelie with concern. “I wanted to heal it but he left so suddenly.”

“Fully healed,” said Christie. “I gave him a special potion to mend it. Likely hurt as much or more than when it was broken.”

“Nice,” said Thomas. He had bee playing dice with two of the Hard Won Warriors and appeared smugly happy with himself. “Bastard deserved it.”

“Thomas!” Said Amelie.

“What? Brent should have won, is that too hard to say?”

Brent laughed and yelled out, “To Thomas!”

All drank, and soon Christie had a mug, drinking with the rest of them. Despite being a relatively slender and light weight woman she seemed to be able to handle her alcohol well.

“So, Lady Christie,” said Grady at one point. “What brings you to this neck of the woods? Old Guard sending you around the world, eh?”

“Something like that,” she responded. She was sitting on a log and had been chatting with Amelie and Claire.

When did Claire get over there? thought Brent as the world spun. Uh oh, I am really drunk.

“Don’t feel the need to share, Lady Christie,” joked Kurt. “We know how the Old Guard are about their secrets.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” responded Christie. “Just checking up on some things. Rather boring, all in all. Fortunately I ran into this Contract Tournament which has been a pleasant diversion. But tomorrow morning I must head out once again and be on my way.”

“Same for us,” said Grady. “Before that Xemnara woman captured us we were on our ways to a job in the west of Avalon. Likely that ship has sailed, but there is always a chance of more work.”

“Ah,” said Christie. “Which ones were you? The capybara or the monkeys?”

“So you’ve heard,” said Grady, a depressed note entering his voice. “We were pigs, actually.”

“Mighty, mighty pigs!” Roared Kurt, raising his mug.

The night wore on, and through the drinking songs and the toasting and the stories Brent found himself forgetting about Goergio and his defeat. It felt thousands of miles away. This was living. This was life and what he was meant to do. Having a good times with friends, old and new. When he had spawned in Esem he had had no idea what this world had in store for him. Now, he knew what he was meant to do, and it was not simply fighting and growing in strength. He was a member of the Seven Banes, and he would do anything it took to protect them.

There was a commotion that pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s time,” Christie was saying. “I must be off.”

“Just one more, Lady Christie!” Said one of the Hard Won Warriors. “It’s not everyday we get to drink with royalty.”

“I’m sorry,” said Christie with a laugh. “But my time has come. I need to be off.”

There were more polite protestations but Christie nimbly fended them off. Before she left she said good bye to each of the Banes, and Amelie gave her another hug. The last one she spoke to was Brent.

“Well, Brent, it was nice getting to know you.”

“Yes…um…it was-I mean,” stammered Brent. He was having trouble getting his thoughts together. “What I mean to say is…thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said. Then she leaned down and whispered in his ear. He could smell her perfume and he felt a head rush. “And to answer your question, in the cafe, yes. I did think about settling down with him.”

“Oh, I see,” said Brent lamely.

Christie smiled, and then glanced at where Claire was sitting.

“Don’t fail to appreciate people until only after they are gone, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Understand what I am saying?”

“I…think so.”

She smiled again, and then stood up.

“Chase!” She said.

“Christie,” said Chase, flatly.

She frowned.

“There you go again losing your accent,” she shook her head. “I am off. Be careful out there, okay? I give each of you permission to mail me in the Hub if you need any help.”

“The pledge of an Old Guard is a mighty, mighty thing!” Said Grady. He raised his mug again but Christie silenced him with a wave.

“I mean it,” she said. “We still don’t know much about this Antagonista woman or what she wants. If you get wind of her, let me know.”

“You got it,” said Alex, after Chase didn’t respond.

“Very well,” said Christie. Then she turned around and exited the way she had come. After a moment a humming filled the air and suddenly she was hovering above them on a flying machine, such as the Gryphon express had. She waved to them all. “Bye bye. Don’t drink too much!”

And then she sped away, into the night, and going east.

“To lady Christie!” Said Grady. “Hiccup!”