In the best case scenario, Eric had hoped to at least earn some appreciation for rising to the challenge and coming to the aid of the party before him. But clearly they were no fools, not by temperament or experience, all of them glaring his way as they instantly put two and two together.

The rough middle-aged man glared with furious dismay. “It’s him! That fucker’s why our party shattered, our fort ruptured, and the damned maze reset!” He jabbed an accusing finger Eric’s way. “We nearly got killed… Emily nearly got killed… because of this fuckwad!”

Eric winced, dread crawling in his stomach as the naginata stiffened against his neck.

“Don’t...” The girl whispered, and Eric slowly released the killing intensity in his own glare, and a fist he had been a hairsbreadth from infusing with spiritual energy. Which would have been incredibly stupid, but it had been a damned long day with people setting him up, torturing him, and doing absolutely all they could to destroy him, so he was going to cut himself some slack… and just hope that wouldn’t become his throat.

The armored warrior’s glare hardened all the more. “What, you got a problem with what I said, asshole? Too stupid not to interfere with an active delve? Or were you just greedy? Well? Explain yourself, asshole, or it won’t just be Yuki’s naginata that cuts open your fucking throat!”

This earned a concerned look from the man by his side. “Easy, Ron. The kid did come to our aid. If he was looking to kill us, why the hell would he have risked his ass drawing all three of their attention?” said the younger of the pair of heavily armed warriors. Visor lifted, gentle blue eyes and handsome features peered intently into Eric’s own. “That was some nice firing, taking out that charging minotaur. Yuki says it’s skull is now just powdered ash, and your arrowhead’s still blazing like steel!” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Hell, the granite floor’s cracking and smoking and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it ends up melting, with the heat that arrowhead’s generating.”

He tilted his head in polite curiosity. “Are you an Elite archer of some sort?”

“Actually I’m an Adventurers who had a couple fortuitous encounters,” Eric said gamely enough, with his politest smile, recognizing an interrogation when he heard it and more than happy to play nice with someone who didn’t look like he’d a soon take Eric’s head as spit.

The well-armored youth smiled. “Fortuitous encounters for sure, if you can shoot arrows like that. From what I’ve heard, Adventurers aren’t as specialized as other classes...”

“They’re a piss-poor shit class, just a half-step above conscript, actually,” said the mage known as Steve calmly, without an ounce of heat in his voice.

Eric smirked at the wizard’s assertion. He was just glad that Steve, like the younger man before him, seemed more curious than eager for his blood.

Though the naginata still pressed to his neck made it damned clear he best not relax too much.

“The Adventurer class does have their drawbacks, sure,” Eric conceded, carefully not stating just what tier Adventurer he was. “But they’re also pretty damn sweet, because you can pretty much mix and match whatever gifts or talents fortuitous encounters or your own talents bring to the fore. Which means a little bit of blood, a knack for flame, and some archery skill allows me to do some pretty nifty things.”

“That it does,” his good-cop interrogator assured with a smile, now calmly holding out his hand, ignoring Yuki’s displeased hiss behind him. “My name’s Richard, by the way.”

Eric grinned, not hesitating to shake the man’s hand, careful to use no more force in his grip than his opposite did. Yet even that amount earned a surprised look and an approving nod. “Eric. The pleasure’s all mine.”

“The hell it is,” Ron snapped with a glare. “The only thing that’s going to be feeling pleasure is my fists, if you don’t start talking!”

Eric smirked. “Sure, Ron, let’s have a good ol powwow in the central hub of this Orange-tier delve. There are, what, eight tunnels that branch out from this massive cavern? The air stinks of blood, perforated organs and, yeah, burning flesh, bone, and melting stone from my arrow. But why worry about sheltering up, or any of that? You have questions.”

“Damn right we do,” Ron snarled. “So start talking!”

“Let’s start with the basics,” Richard gently cut in, his easygoing smile clearly intended to smooth over some of Ron’s abrasiveness. “I don’t suppose you can tell us how exactly you ended up here without, well, what most of us would consider proper adventuring gear?”

“He’s wearing boots, blue jeans, a rat hide vest, and is covered in blood. As are his bow and arrows,” Yuki said with a snort. “And that bow is radiating some pretty fucked-up vibes, I gotta say.”

“I’m certainly happy to answer your questions,” Eric assured. “But let me start with this. Are any of you oathbound to goblin contracts or obligations?”

This earned a handful of hardened glares.

“How fucking stupid does this cat think we are?” Said the redhead, now scratching his neck as he peered Richard’s way. “We’re clean for now, Rich. None of the big boys are heading this way from what I can tell.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Richard said, before turning his focus back to Eric. “No, none of us are naive enough to get into goblin debt.” He flashed a humorless smile. “Let’s just say we have connections and know the score better than most.”

Eric dipped his head. “Good to hear. Sadly, a lot of people aren’t in the know. And some people make mistakes and get on the bad side of very nasty people.” He chose his words carefully to avoid deliberately lying. He didn’t know if there was even such a thing as a lie detecting skill or power, but between the paladin-like Richard gazing at him too intently, and Yuki, their shadow stalker at his back, he thought it would be an extremely bad idea to get caught out in a lie.

It didn’t mean that he couldn’t paint things in a sympathetic light, however, or allow them to draw their own conclusions.

The redhead glared at him. “So, what, you got into debt with the goblins and actually escaped with a slave collar around your neck?”

Eric flashed a bitter smile, before drawing a shuddering breath. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t escape shit. It was this, or they kill my girlfriend, her friends, and her family. To say those assholes had my balls in a vice would be a fucking understatement.” Eric was more relieved than he wanted to admit by the looks of sympathy and dismay this confession had earned him. Because if he had humanized himself in their eyes, ninja girl was far less likely to try and cut out his throat.

He flashed a bleak smile. “So yeah, the minute this collar was put on my neck, those bastards were torturing me with glee. Once they got tired of my screams, they parked their veli a short distance away from the entrance and said that they were going to press the button to kill me, unless I dove for the rift entrance by the count of ten.” He gave a bitter shake of his head. “They made me enter an Orange tier rift stripped of my armor, sword, and equipment. I think we both know that they sent me here to die.”

The last he said while gazing intently at Richard, carefully analyzing the gamute of emotions running across the man’s features, praying that his What the Other Party Wants perk was pinging accurately, and that Richard really didn’t want to kill him.

Because if there was anything to cause knee jerk reactions…

“You’re lying. You have to be lying!” Ron roared, white-knuckled grip on the hilt of his blade. “Admit it, you’re just an idiot who wandered in here, way over your head! Either that, or your guild was trying to claim jump our find!”

“No,” declared none other than Yuki firmly. “He’s not lying. The goblins put a pain collar on him, tortured him, and he was compelled to enter the rift or lose his head.” The girl cursed under her breath. “You can taste the truth so thick in his shadow that it’s almost physical pain. Just how badly did they fuck you up, kid?”

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Eric forced a bleak smile. “Pretty damned bad, actually. I’ll probably be keeping my girlfriend up with my screams, assuming we can make it out of this place in one piece, and she even wants to see my damaged ass ever again. And who are you calling a kid? I’m eighteen.” He furrowed his brow, blushing when he felt Yuki suddenly tense, as if sensing the lie in his shadows. And how she sensed Truth and Shadows with Arcane Sight, he didn’t have a clue. “I mean, I think I’m eighteen? A lot of shit went down. A lot of fortuitous encounters, tainted pods, and fucked up drama. I’m actually not sure how old I am now? So, yeah. Let’s go with eighteen.”

Yuki snorted, the pressure against his neck now so light it almost wasn’t even there. “Fucked up indeed.”

The redhead cursed, squeezing tight the shaft of his pilum, making Eric’s skin crawl with dread, but his furious gaze didn’t seem to be on Eric, at least not any more. “Those fuckers swore covenant! We give them a cut, they do nothing to interfere. Hell, the gnoll hierarchy welcomed us to clear as much of this orange territory as we dared. They even said they’d give us rank, titles, and all the slaves we want, as soon as we were sworn in!”

Richard sighed, shaking his head. “And that’s the problem, Jack. We’ve refused, politely, their gestures twice over.” He chuckled bitterly. “And here I had thought my Social Etiquette skill had allowed us to escape censure for our freedom. Clearly, the skill check wasn’t what I thought it had been.”

Ron’s gaze turned flinty hard. “They put Emily at risk. Mr. Goldman won’t like that.”

Steve, the mage, snorted. “They put us all at risk, Ron. Which just goes to show that even if we managed to work out a pretty sweet arrangement with the gnoll tribes, those goblins will taint any treaty they can get their hands on.”

The others nodded solemnly at that.

“So, we going to vote on what we do with this cat?” Jack asked, glaring hard Eric’s way before he broke out in an unexpected smile. “I, for one, vote for catch and release.”

“Let’s think this through,” Ron said coolly, pitiless gaze enough to send chills down Eric’s spine. “Your families have something good going for them in New York. Why the hell would our allies want to mess that up?” He coolly shook his head. “Out of nowhere, our fort ruptures, we’re thrown for a loop, stunned, lucky even to still be linked as a party, only to be ambushed by not one but three of those fucking behemoths? And this kid here show’s up out of nowhere in the nick of time?” He smirked. “Only to tell us, surprise, surprise, that you’ve all been set up to fail by the very factions that made your parents who and what they are today? The very factions that set half of you up with sweet classes and artifacts from the get go, forming the backbone of a party that let the rest of us ride on those coattails be become some of the most powerful Delvers in North America? Hell, we’re almost at Contender status, if not past that. I’d fucking bet on it!”

“So what, you want to kill him?” Yuki’s voice turned cold. “You think that little of my skills after all this time, Ron?”

The older man shook his head. “It’s not about doubting you, Yuki. It’s about our faction’s enemies, the Sylvan Alliance among countless others, playing to our weakness, playing to the hero complex half of you kids are infected with, no matter how badass you all try to pretend you are. And let’s not forget, those damned elves are more than capable of using their racial gifts, fairy magics, to hoodwink you and destroy New York from within. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were planning on doing just that!”

Ron’s eyes lit with growing intensity as he glared Eric’s way.

“Isn’t that right… Sylvan Spy?”

Eric blinked and had to suppress a groan as the man’s paranoia brought what had almost been in the palm of his hands spiraling right out of his grasp. “Seriously? You assume I’m a Sylvan Spy? Where? Just… how?” He peered intently at Ron. “Are you that anxious to kill me when the only thing I did wrong was risking my ass for strangers in a world as fucking cold and ruthless as this one is turning out to be?”

Richard flinched at that.

Yinzi sighed. “If he’s a Sylvan spy, or works for the Confederate States, then yes, you’re right. He’s lower than dirt, and I’ll hate him for lying through my shadows more than anything else. But if you’re wrong, Ron… the debt of karma we’ll be paying if we strike dead a nameless soldier who fought by our side with no promise of recognition or reward? That will be a pretty fucking steep price to pay!”

Jack frowned, glaring at the giant corpses slumped over in death, shaking his head before turning to meet Ron’s gaze. “You do know Emily owes this cat a handshake at the very least, if not her life, don’t you, Ron?”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Bullshit. I had things covered. We had things covered!”

Jack grit his teeth, but slowly shook his head. “No, man, I’m afraid we didn’t. I was out of position and you and Richard were busy just trying to survive the second minotaur’s onslaught.” His gaze grew solemn. “I’d never been so afraid in all my life, desperate to twist and THROW this javelin before it was too fucking late. But by the time I cast, the stone floor had already cracked and broken.”

He flashed a relieved smile. “But not the stone where Emily lay. Because this crazy cat managed to unleash a hail of arrows right into the fucker’s face!” He then smirked. “Even if most of those arrows barely scratched the creature’s skin, at least one managed to pink it’s eyes, and it was so busy bowling, roaring, and squinting that it had completely forgotten about Emily. That, of course, was when I stepped in, lancing it’s kidneys and liver.”

“But not a heart shot,” Ron noted.

Jack’s pleased smile hardened. “No. Not with my first fucking throw. Because strikes that are harder than you think, and my positioning was shit.” He crossed his arms, glaring at Ron. “And just so you know. Second shot? I burst his heart like a fucking melon.”

Ron smirked. “Considering that you invested two full nodes into throwing that thing, I’d expect nothing less. It’s all that makes you worthy of Phoenix Company.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Sure, Ron. Whatever you say.”

Eric blinked, gazing at the blushing youth speculatively. “You invested two nodes in Javelin throwing?”

“Yes!” Jack snapped. “I invested two nodes to a skill aligned perfectly to this class I’m stuck with after getting my skill rank up to Elite rank one! Problem with that?”

Eric solemnly shook his head. “Not at all. You took out a sixtieth level fucker with Vitality I’m pinging at around 150 and who knows how many high powered damage resistance skills. That was some anti-material rifle firepower right there, no fucking doubt.”

Jack snorted, tightened features softening in a good-natured smirk. “More like I’m approaching the power of 12 pounder cannon with every javelin I throw. And that, if you couldn’t tell already, is pretty fucking badass.”

“Oh, I know,” Eric said with a perfectly straight face. “So, does this mean I get to live?”

Richard grinned, a warmhearted twinkle in his eyes. “Live and thrive! Honestly, Eric, it seems like you’re a victim of circumstances just as much we all are. Though I’d love to know more about why the goblins had such a hard-on for you… you did come to our aid right when we needed you. And though some would argue that your appearance was a bit too convenient...” he said with a pointed look Ron’s way. “The fact remains that your fire arrow that struck and killed a fifteen-foot minotaru in a single shot, right through the eye. An arrow that could have been aimed for any of our backs, all but assuring our doom.”

He flashed a warmhearted smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, reaching out to clasp Eric’s hand.

“I propose a temporary alliance! Just swear that you have no intentions of injuring, disabling, impairing or killing us at any time from this moment forward, most particularly while we’re in this dungeon and the period we’re vulnerable heading back to New York...”

“And that you’re not affiliated with the Sylvan Alliance or the CSA!” Ron interjected, earning a chuckle from Richard.

“And that you’re not affiliated with either of those two organizations, then we’d love to have you on board.”

Eric clenched his jaw with those final words. Because of course they had to bring up that wild accusation, Eric knowing all too well just how pertinent it was, with Yuki’s naginata suddenly tense against his throat.

And none of them were fools, Eric doubting a single one had a quickness under sixty… because they would have never survived this long, had been otherwise. All of them were survivors, instantly picking up on Eric’s sudden tension.

Warm smiles immediately turned to the ice-cold miens of experienced killers. Even the mask of Richard’s bonhomie dropped to reveal the ruthless soldier who would do whatever it took to survive.

“Fuck, he’s one of them!” Yuki hissed with a curse.

Jack’s earlier smirk turned hard and cold. “Fucking asshole! So what faction do you serve, you fucking spy?”

Ron flashed Eric a malevolent smile, eyes glittering with bitter satisfaction. “I knew he was nothing more than a goddamned spy. Asshole probably killed Chuck and Zane. I think we all know what we need to do now.”

Eric’s Danger Sense shrieked sudden warning, in perfect sync with Nose For Trouble and Know the Score. And goddamned did he hate Ron for his paranoia being right on the mark, even though it couldn’t have been more wrong. It would still end in a bloodbath, which would only make their enemies laugh with to no end.

“Hold the fuck up!” Eric snapped.

Quickness check made! Finesse Check made! You manage to claim your prize without fatally jostling your neck!