Year 31 of the rule of the Bandit King.

Chapter One: After life Comes…?

Stoning Poison!

I watched from my knees as my graveborn-son-of-a-slave known as Regus stumble away with my dagger still stuck, hilt deep, in his left lung.

My dagger, my graveborn, my life.

Granted, at 57 years old this was one of the better ways to go, however I still was not ready, especially by poison! Despite that though, I knew I was done.

I had killed enough to know that I was done for, especially once I realized that the poison was well into my blood. Even before I let him chop off my left arm, regardless of my lack of wounds, I was nothing more than a walking corpse. Not that the mana implosion technique that Regus employed had not done its damage. Still, I used some of my ever dwindling mana to creating enough of a flame to flash-burn my stub. It would slow the bleeding, even if I nearly blacked out from the pain.

Pain though was something I was all too used to.

Under normal conditions I would have tried my best to accept my loss. I was old and a fighting death would be preferable to old age. However, the poison changed it for me on a personal level. I normally prided myself on my cold, detached, intellect, however right now the best I could do was a cold rage. I wanted my revenge against my killer, I wanted death for this stoning graveborn of a coward. So I ended up sacrificing my left arm to stab him once with my off-hand.

Regrettably, the lung wound was not fatal. A collapsed lung hurt like… well, like a collapsed lung, but it could be healed given enough time. Which was why I took the liberty of casting my favorite spell, snip, inside Regus’ leg, as I embedded my dagger in his rib cage.

The young fool did not know the human body well enough to know that the growing numbness in his leg meant that he had just lost a major blood path. Even if he was, repairing such damage was even more difficult than repairing his lung could be. If he somehow survived the next few minutes, there was almost no one good enough to completely repair his blood path, the best of the near-by healers would only be able to tie off the path and risk waiting for a more experienced healer to arrive before the leg  died.

As Regus finally pulled the dagger out and desperately tried to cast healing magic on his lung I guessed that he would die eight or nine times out of ten if the situation was repeated. Still, that meant that in all probability my graveborn was already being dragged to the god of the underworld. Albeit a slow drag, I would still have to survive a little while longer it seemed. Which gave me just enough time to end the life of yet another one of my children.

Praise be to Gorith, oh great ruler of the underworld, I will be commending two souls to you soon, one of them your faithful servant.

I coughed up green blooded foam and finally realized what the brat had poisoned me with. As the blood loss raced with the teclao poison to kill me I found my thoughts wandering. I idly wondered about what would happen to my people after I died and how Regus had managed to slip the poison to me, mostly because the stuff is one of the most bitter substances in the world. It is also very rare and highly prized as it takes almost exactly three alpha days to start to take effect.

I wonder why the fool did not just kill a servant and let me die from the teclao… Ah! Was it because he thought he could kill me and claim the throne if the poison weakened me? No, wait that did not make sense, teclao works fast once it starts showing itself. Furthermore there was a standing rule that all preexisting abnormalities, including poison, were allowed, albeit frowned upon as a cheap win.

Cheap wins, while allowed, were often even more dangerous than loses, especially, when you were challenging for something important. In this case, if he managed to win, his kingship would have been challenged almost on the spot, especially with the teclao so obvious from my now green blood.

Maybe he thought that the poison would only weaken me for the fight? By the ovals, if someone switched his poison or fooled him he might not even know that I was dead going into the arena.

Someone used him, that idiot!

Ah, I moved my face to the ground in a sudden urge to give thanks to the earth goddesses.

Stones I love the earth, it was always willing to help cover you, telling you which way was down, and even helping me cover up the fact that I was almost crying from the pain now surging through my body as the poison ate my innards.

I picked myself up enough to cough violently into the dirt and someone, most likely a ranger given the distances, saw my green blood, causing a cry of ‘poison’ to go up and getting my people’s full attention.

My people, my family, my kingdom...

Some ran around trying to get into the cage that the fight was taking place in to help, but it was too late. It was also against the rules, I thought with a smile, maybe I was a better king than I thought? No, they were just loyal.

I forced myself up as best I could and concentrated. I knew how wrong this fight was and I was determined to pass on one last thing before I died. After all, I was still king until I actually lost the fight.

Focusing my relatively tiny amount of mana into my voice – wishing, as I had since I was born, that I had been blessed with more mana – I tried to speak what would likely be my last words with as much strength as I could, however it came out broken anyway.

“Combat… invalid. Osiris succeeds.” I coughed out, my mana making my words clear and loud enough that they were heard even above the ruckus.

As the crowd, including those who had run to help stopped moving, shocked, according to the rules, my rules, once combat was entered all methods were allowed, with the exception outside help.  I almost laughed despite the pain. I could still shock and surprise them after all these years?

Regus, of course, had no intentions of letting this last command of mine stand. He probably thought that he could prove himself worthy for once in his life... I never did figured out who he was trying to prove himself to, but that brat definitely had problems.

I sighed inwardly, my anger dropping back into the back of my head, replacing it with cold logic as I tried to figure out how to kill him.

-I could try and take another wound (little chance I would survive it though)

-If I talked to him I could try and trick him (given his state of mind though... no, just no.)

-Theatrics? After growing up in the dirt of society, begging was easy (again, with his state of mind that was not likely)

-Maybe if I countered-

Screaming, Regus rushed at me with his sword raised, only to have his leg give out and fall in front of me, the point of his blade barely a hand’s length from my leg.

Casually, I quickly grabbed his blade with my only remaining hand and pulled it out of his grasp before throwing it behind me. I loved theatrics for tricking the enemy, but sometimes there was just no need... Or was there?

Regus looked up at me and pulled himself over with a look of fury that could only be compared to the Alpha, the older, larger, of the two light givers in the heavens.

He could see weakness, he could see the man who had ripped his mother away from her soft and decadent noble surroundings and impregnated her. He could see a chance to prove himself (again, however, the who was lost on me) and stumbling almost upright for a moment he pulled out a dagger to do just that.

Then he saw my blood. Green blood was something that even this fool, especially this fool, with his healing talent, recognized. The shock overcame even his rage for a moment and Regus forgot himself, letting his legs give out again he fell next to me, his dagger falling into the ground next to us as he tried to steady himself.

I knew that he was conflicted so I took advantage of the situation without a second thought.

There could be no confusion, Osiris must succeed without challenge. So I reached forward, slowly, so very slowly, with my only remaining hand to touch my son’s cheek. A sad and painful expression on my face, combined with my rapidly paling complexion, must have given the impression of a ghost, reaching out in regret. An outsider would have called it a touching moment, one that Regus should have known not to believe.

The touch is sacred between mages because of our power and it was a sign of how shocked he was that he did not stop me before it was too late. Just before actually making contact with him, he realized what I was doing and tried to jerk away, but I leaned forward enough that my finger tip brushed his throat, my touch making his magic armor irrelevant.

I cast the snip spell twice.

The first time severed the soft area between his neck bones to paralyze him. The second one, severed the major blood path in his neck, making sure that he would die before healing his neck. Self-healing mages were always troublesome in that way.

Regus collapsed into the dirt beside me as he tried to save himself with his mana, I watched dispassionately as he fell, dying even more quickly than I was. "Fool." I grunted. I always told the others, my brats included, to keep their heads. Almost all who came here were bandits or outlaws in one form or another, there was no need for pride or dignity in our tactics, only survival mattered.

Still, my blood in particular seemed to have trouble with the idea. I had lost almost a dozen sons in challenges, I was honestly surprised that they kept trying, but when you had over a hundred children that sort of thing was bound to happen… or at least that was what my advisors told me.

I sighed pulling myself back from Regus and reflected on my fate. I was finally going to die. I felt... unfinished. My book was not complete, the self-righteous mercenaries were said to be preparing for another assassination attempt, and I had about a dozen minor problems to mediate...

I, the feared Bandit King of the Gods’ Spearpoint, had taken up the usual single combat challenge for control and had been betrayed, again. However, this time I was not going to survive.

As I felt my life leaving me I realized that for the first time I might not feel the Guilt because of a murder. Sleep sounded good and I had become really tired after using most of my tiny store of mana so, despite all the yelling from those around me, I lazily closed my eyes on my adopted people finally managed to open the cage and start rushed towards me and, for the last time, I felt the pain start to disappear.

In spite of it all I felt relaxed and a bit amused as I died, I caused so much pain and yet there were people crying my name. As my body came apart and became nothingness, my mind slowly dissipating, I wondered what Oval Gorith would send me to, probably a harsh one, no one outside this place would morn for me... well, stone them all.

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Then I felt pain.

*Shock*

@#&$! I blurted incoherently. I was going to rip the arrogant graveborn who cast that sell a new relief hole! I looked around and tried to see where I was.

There was nothing.

For the record I did not meant just darkness, I meant nothingness. There were no stars, no distant lights, the direction I decided to label as up was no brighter or darker than the direction I labeled as down… In fact, my labeling of directions was fairly arbitrary as I was not standing on anything as there was no tug which would make me fall in any particular direction.

Laughter came out of the nothingness from a fair distance away. I noted with alarm that I could not tell the distance, a talent that I was somewhat a specialist at after living in the mountains for so long. I tried to use my mana, but could not reach it. My mana was gone, which could only mean... I was dead.

“You call him an ‘arrogant graveborn’ young one? You presume that you can fight gods?” The voice was high and feminine, but in a way that screamed ‘trap!’ That thought preceded a giggle from the same source.

Okay, a mind reading trap, I noted. Come to think of it what happened next? The priests always told me that I would be brought before a judge with no eyes who would see, weigh, and determine what my life's actions deserved. They were supposed to determine what Oval I was sent to... So my judge was a trap?

I did not get to hear the mind reader’s response as another *Shock* hit me.

This time I refrained from cursing, but I did bite my lip to keep from crying out because of the pain.

My battle sense surged and I tried in vain to get a better idea on what was happening and where I was, as random shock spells were definitely not said to be part of being Judged.

“Ah. He is still manifesting himself in an organic form! He cannot hear or see anyone who is not directly aiming their thoughts at him, or broadcasting them like I am.” A helpful voice chimed in.

“Ah, good catch Leo, I suppose the last shock was unnecessary than. However if he cannot see us it will work out better in my opinion.” Another new voice, this one seeming directly in front of me, despite his lack of physical presence, announced itself. The voice had a booming quality that reminded me of quite a few nominally talented and very haughty nobles I had met before. Usually before I killed them and took their wives and daughters for myself… probably not the best time to reflect on those memories though.

Wait a second, that mind reader from before spoke just fine.

There was also a multitude of voices who now sounded off in both agreement and disagreement with his comment.

The chorus of noise was especially surprising to me since there was still nothing around me.

“Well now, down to business then?” The booming voice asked to what must have been the general audience, as my opinion really did not seem to matter at the moment. The voices quieted. “Mortal soul, you disturbed our Game in your world, a grave, if impressive, sin. Indeed your bandit kingdom, which should not exist, will turn into the center of one of the most sprawling and successful empires of your world’s history as a center for commerce, scientific, and militaristic leadership.” The voice announced this with what sounded like a mixture of respect and annoyance. While I just blinked in surprise.

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Honestly, I figured that they would implode my little ‘kingdom’ within the next generation. I mostly left Osiris in charge to try and keep them from killing each other for a few more years, more in hope, than expectation.

Ignoring my internal pondering, the voice continued to speak. “Normally we would not care in the slightest about what actions you took during your life; however after you completely upset the Game in such a spectacular way we felt that we had to do something.” I decided that the voice was a he at this point and he continued to elaborate. “Explaining in a way that you would understand, we are gods who live between worlds and travel between them, playing the Game. Usually by selecting our players and then giving them various advantages while throwing challenges and curses at other players until one alliance declares victory or until only one player, be they human or otherwise, remains alive.”

He paused at this point and did not speak further so I guessed that he was fielding complaints and comments from the other gods who were clearly more like the nobles of my past experiences than anything else that I could compare them to… although if all gods could be like this and I would be none the wiser. Suddenly I felt a chill, if this game of theirs was more to resolve conflicts and form alliances, without actually going for blood, than would my upsetting this game lead to a god war?

Oh. Not good… wait, if I am already dead, why would I care?

“…Anyway.” The voice began again. “We were at an impasse as to what to do with you when you died, particularly since you would not die when one of us tried to arrange it. So we have decided to use this opportunity to restart the Game in a new world. Of course you must wonder what this has to do with you.”

So these gods had tried and failed to kill me before? I held up my hands at this point (probably a pointless gesture, but I tried anyway) and tried to politely interrupt, however the voice ignored my attempts to insert a question and continued on regardless, confirming that my both my opinion and gesture did not matter. In fact, I was starting to wonder if this was not all just a formality of some sort for them.

Regardless, it seemed that one did not simply interrupt a god… or did they?

“We have decided to use you as a new addition to the Game, an unaligned player that all of us can bless or curse as we will, albeit more indirectly than in our usual Game. The Game will begin around the time you would turn seventeen in your new life and continue until the Game has a winner. Now mortal, any questions?” The voice finished his monologue with a grand flourish that had me picturing a grand duke delivering his crowning political compromise and personal triumph… Something I could almost pity him for.

Regardless, I gathered my thoughts as quickly as I could and tried to organize them. The idea of being reborn was nice, however, I somehow doubted that I would get an option to refuse anyway. “Yes, many, starting with how I managed to interrupt the ‘game’ of beings that are powerful enough that they can travel between worlds at will.” If my opinion did not matter there was no point being polite, especially as it was not my strongest skill in any case. I also tried to both speak normally and broadcast my question, hopefully somewhat like what Leo described. He did make it sound like I should be able to do that already and that I was still using my more familiar methods of communication.

There was no answer for a moment before the voice came back sounding strained and much more annoyed than before. “Keep your voice down human, you are broadcasting your normal thoughts just fine, haughty duke indeed,” the voice seemed to snort. “You cannot even understand our shorter names, much less our identities. Now, to answer your question it would go into the rules of the Game, which you are not worthy of knowing, but you may know the short version: You were blessed by your Gorith and rejected as a stillborn to counter our influence in your world. It was so subtle and unexpected that we did not notice until you faced the Arrician army and we realized that we could not manipulate you in any way, which was the most direct result of Gorith’s blessing. A fine Game move, even if it was extremely annoying.” The voice declared.

Chewing that over, I reflected that Gorith, god of the world of death and everything else underground, had always been my patron god and the one I offered thanks to, even if he was said not to play favorites when you went to the inner ovals of the realm of the dead. I wondered if his ‘blessing’ had anything to do with that.

Even if it did not though I still had to deal with these gods and the fact that I was clearly not going to be sent to Gorith's realm.

This time I did not broadcast my thoughts and tried to just announce my question in my head.

How exactly did you try to manipulate us? I asked.

“Much better, you are a fast learner.” The voiced approved heartily to my broadcasting method of questioning. “Once again as you are not worthy of the actual Game rules, even if you could understand them, so I will attempt to interpret this issue for you. We view your lifespan as so tiny and insignificant that we can let our minds wonder and find you and your grandchildren dead of old age. To counter this we usually set up events years and even decades or centuries ahead to try and win. We try and make sure that individuals or groups are feeling irritated, calm, or content at certain times while other events happen around them. Be it by weather, gambling, sex or any number of other factors, we can change people and the factors around them to our whims."

Unless they are bless by a god I take it?

"Even then, mortal, we can manipulate them to an extent. We just have to stick to the certain rules. Which, incidentally, is why you are being allowed any explanation at all. You, mortal, were not supposed to gain any sort of power over the Jaws of Coret area, however after you managed to be random enough that things like the red ant storm a few of your decades ago, which was supposed to keep your bandits out of the hills for a while, ended up useless. Our possible interference was limited when at the time so you caused a larger and larger rift between what we expected and what happened.

“In summary, you were so annoyingly different and abnormal, especially compared to any of the other bandits, at precisely the correct time and place to throw off everything else.” He elaborated in annoyance. "From your point of view it was like badly weighted dice were suddenly mixed into our dice cups and we only found out near the end of the game."

Interesting. I thought. So gods can be fooled.

“We can only be misled by what we do not see child,  so be careful of such thoughts, for we see you now.” The voice growled.

I tried to direct my thoughts onto a less dangerous path and left how to blind gods for another day. Still, what this god had said got me curious about one thing in particular. What else did we, as humans, not know when alive? Some people said that all gods were omnipotent and they were clearly wrong. Specifically, what was supposed to happen to me after I died? Did the soul really gain weight for each sin committed?  Redirecting my attention outwards I waited for the answer of the gods.

The voice responded blandly, as if disappointed by my question. “There is no such thing as a natural good or evil. Even nature’s ‘balance’ is subjective to the area that you are speaking of. Similarly, the standards of good and evil are completely subjective to history, society, and the god you give your soul to after you die. For each god, for each world, and for each individual at a particular time period in history there is a different standard. Depending on the place and time both the gods and the individual’s ideals determine if someone is good or evil. Slavery, for example, is considered evil in many worlds after a certain point in cultural growth. Still, it originates on most worlds as a simple choice: ‘die here or live in my service,’ if not so politely phrased, and evolves from there. Does that make them ‘evil'?

“Regardless, you literally built a nation out of a bandit camp, there was no way to do that without being labeled 'evil' by the standards of others in the short period that you could live your life.” He explained all of this while sounding rather dismissive. “If you feel guilty it could also affect what response you would normally find after death. So find a god to take your soul and they will explain what happens afterwards.”

The voice sharpened a little as he came back to a subject that seemed more important to him. “Not, that is should be noted, that we either approved or disapproved. The greatest arrogance of you mortals is to think that everything can be neatly divided up into abstract groups like good or evil. If you kill ten thousand children and rape your way into half the world’s heritage, it makes no difference to us or to your world. Good and evil are artificial constructs. Your gods might care, your society might care, you might even care, but we do not.”

By the time the voice finished speaking I felt fully aware for the first time since I died and was able to start really understanding just how different these voices were from humans. Even without the Guilt that plagued me I would I knew what I was doing was ‘wrong’ by almost every standard that existed. I did what I needed to in order to survive and thrive in my own way. Granted there were periods when I got carried away and became arrogant, however it was never to the extent that I simply dismissed the pain and suffering that I caused so many.

As a result, it came as a surprise, even to me, to hear such cold, detached, and almost impressed attitude of these foreign gods about what they thought of my selfish, sometimes cruel, actions as irrelevant to them. Which brought up the subject of what and how other gods thought.

The quiet stretched as I took in what the voice had said up till this point. Although I had not asked directly I was more than sure that these gods were only even talking to me out of a sense of bureaucratic sportsmanship, otherwise they simply would have reincarnated me without warning and let me play their game just by surviving.

Apparently my silence pensiveness meant that the question and answer period of our conversation was at an end.

“Well then Leo it seems that it is finally time to begin.” The voice said cheerfully.

The bookish voice from before reappeared. “I will-

A thought jumped to the front of my head.

What did you mean ‘give my soul’ to a god after death? Why should I have to give my soul to anyone if I have a choice? I broadcast.

“Shouting again.” The voice noted. “How disappointing, I had thought that you had gotten over that. Now, you will be reincarnated by Leo so do remember that killing yourself or dying too early will not leave you in friendly hands afterwards. Now then, goodbye.”

The next thing I knew, it felt like I was being swept far away by a rapid moving current of strange energy.

I shouted and struggled, still having far too many unanswered questions, but then I remembered, I never mattered to begin with.

Stoning gods!

* * *

In the Public Game Room between dimensions:

Leonardo sensed the former Bandit King’s anger and felt a flash of guilt, even as he knew that this was a second chance for the human. The Game that he had set up was going to be one of the most dangerous and complex ever with hundreds of problems coming to a boiling point all at once. Now he was also supposed to watch over a reincarnated human? There would be no way to both monitor the whole Game for rule violators and keep part of his mind on this human.

Despite what they might have said, the truth was that no one looked forward to the human surviving for very long once the Game Play actually began. He would be alone, fighting off others who were blessed beyond any abilities the mortal could possibly be reborn with.

That was not even considering what happened the last time they had reincarnated anyone. Remus died before he knew the real reason behind his brother’s betrayal.

Regardless, Leonardo was proud of his Game set up and looked forward to the start. However, his status as an officially neutral party obligated him to keep an eye on anything that could hurt the balance of the Game too much before Game Start. Now there was a new element to balance along with everything else. Not that he would end up as the human’s backer, but he would be the one responsible for making sure that the Bandit King at least had a chance to win.

The Bandit King would not win of course, but he was owed at least the opportunity to dream.

As the existence, known to many energy and matter based being simply as Leo, allowed himself a moment of mixed pride and concern he took note of the plays some of the Backers were making, now that the official set up had begun.

One official player, one formal backer, one endless Game, The Game.

Or that was the way it used to be...

For the next two decades before the Game began in earnest they would make plays that would begin to affect the chosen world. Despite the occasional flood these were usually small changes as their deal of neutrality with the resident gods would not allow too many meteor strikes, mass revolts, and nation toppling earthquakes.

The others would also notice more obvious moves and move to counter them. The number of different possible moves and schemes was how the Game kept Leo’s people, these energy based gods, preoccupied in eternity.

‘More complicated than 7 dimensional Kogu’ Leo thought proudly to himself.

Then, some of the others formed a conclave, individuals who agreed with the proposed play rapidly loaned their energy as a sign of interest and approval to the new change to the Game.

…Leonardo immediately began processing the possibilities and did not like them at all. Gathering himself and his energies he broadcast a message to the others. While he could not actually stop the play with it having this much support he could use his position to modify the scenario.

If he did a good job, everyone would be slightly annoyed and very intrigued.

Of course, that would leave the former ‘Bandit King’ as a female, but that could be dealt with later…

Maybe.