At its most basic level, being a Schemer was about understanding how people would react within given circumstances. Once you had that read on a target, playing into or undercutting those reactions could both yield advantageous outcomes. Case in point: there was almost no chance Prince Ceril would have ever seen the true potential in Shin’s Grand Alliance concept, so once he’d agreed to support it the kobold knew that his betrayal was all but assured.

That directly led Wren into making a disadvantageous attack, and that led directly to the kobolds and hobgoblins taking the day. Shin planned on Ceril acting in a specific way, and the fact that the elf marched arrogantly down the path presented to him was the key to victory.

That didn’t mean Shin had to be happy about it.

He hauled Prince Ceril up by his shirt collar, the elf dazed and bleeding from the mouth. “You careless lump of trash,” Shin hissed through gritted teeth, “How many of your own people would still be alive right now if you’d backed my play?!”

The prince cringed away from the Schemer’s outrage, putting up a token effort to defend himself. “Y-y-you couldn’t be trusted! The waystation! You’re a-a-a murderer!”

“You spied on us,”–Shin gave the prince a hard shake–”You demanded violence when we sued the other Rangers for peace,”–He shook Ceril again–”You conspired to attack us from behind while we attempted to ally in good faith.” At this point, Shin was practically throttling the helpless elf. “Your pride and arrogance has killed every single Oaken Elf you have ever led us to!”

Shin dropped Ceril to the ground, the prince wheezing for breath as he still attempted to marshal some defense of himself. “I, you…was a p-prisoner!” He sucked in a deep lungful, something like the old princely demeanor coming back to his eyes. “You treated me like an animal!”

“You attended our celebrations. You ate your meals alongside us. I gave you my sleeping quarters. You think that’s being treated like an animal?” Shin’s lip curled as he inspected the sniveling pile of elf once more, then turned his head away in disgust. “Well. You’ll have a chance to reconsider that soon. Believe me.”

Ceril groaned piteously as Shin turned towards Higen, amusement cracking through the blood drying on the wild man’s face. But before the Schemer could say anything, one of the feral kobolds grabbed him by the shoulder. “What are you doing, house dog?” He growled, scorn radiating from his every feature. “You think you can just barge in and–”

The kobold’s challenge died in his throat as Shin spun around, his eyes blazing. The raider attempted another growl as his supposedly tame opponent stepped directly into his space and just kept walking forward, their foreheads soon fully pressed together. Shin’s eyes bored unflinchingly into the other kobold’s as he forced him backwards, the shocked wild pup soon finding himself stumbling outside of the pavilion.

The tense standoff between the kobold raiders and the group from the fortress screeched to a halt as Shin and his challenger burst outside, ‘tamed’ and ‘wild’ alike staring in rapt attention at the confrontation. The raider tried his best to regain his footing, too hard-pressed to work up an effective snarl as Shin forced him backwards relentlessly. And then the wild kobold misplaced a step, and tumbled to the ground.

The crowd let out a low rumble of anticipation as Shin loomed over the shivering kobold, his every inch seeming ten times as tall. “You stay there until I come get you.”

The formerly defiant kobold broke eye contact with a shiver, offering a halting nod in response.

“Good dog.”

Shin straightened, taking a moment to inspect the kobolds Higen had gathered. They were of a kind alright, and clearly all Wilders like Higen. Or rather, whatever Wilders upgraded to. He glanced past the uneasy visage of Bex and the tense expression of Hilde, settling on Momo’s focused, intense gaze. “Have your priests see to the wounded. Elves too.”

Momo nodded, the kobold and hobgoblin priests and priestesses immediately rushing to the prisoners and raiders alike. “It’s done.”

“Gero.”

The big woman looked up with a start, a flush having creeped into her cheeks as she watched Shin bully the other kobold into the dirt. “Um, yes?”

“If anyone tries to stop a prisoner from being healed, or gets in our way, or does anything you don’t like, crush them.”

Gero’s face split in a wild grin, her embarrassment forgotten but her flush only getting brighter. “Absolutely.”

Without another word Shin strode back into the pavilion, greeted by the unfamiliar sight of Higen’s approval. “So you remember some of the Old Ways,” the wild-looking kobold mused, “Interesting.”

Shin offered a noncommittal noise, picking up a tatter of Oaken Elf tabard to wipe off his forehead. “So anyways. It seems as though the out-of-doors suit you, Higen. What Class are you, now?”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Higen shrugged broadly. “I don’t give the same weight to magical pages of words as you do, Shin. But it lists me as a Wild Son of Tasan Okaa.”

“Really?” Shin tilted his head to one side, considering that. “Was it strange, suddenly finding yourself dedicated to a Goddess you’d never heard of before?”

“Everything that has ever happened to any of us has been strange. That was the only one that felt right.” Higen smiled, his grin very white through the black of his beard and the red of the blood on his face. “We only have three things in the wild, Shin: Our pack, our teeth, and The Great Mother. Anything else is just luxury for house dogs.”

“Ah. ‘House Dogs’. So, me.”

Higen cocked an eyebrow. “Of course you, Shin. Don’t tell me you’re ashamed of that all of a sudden. Make no mistake; I know better than the youngbloods. I know that wearing nice clothes and taking your shoes off inside and putting on airs doesn’t mean you’ve lost your bite.” He smiled again, a slice of ivory cut through crimson. “You’re already teaching them that, I see.”

“Hm. Maybe.” Shin tossed the scrap of tabard onto Ceril, the prince still cowering in the corner. “While we’re talking about teaching. You were sloppy at the fortress.”

Higen’s smile vanished as if it had never even existed. “Fuck you I was sloppy.”

Shin frowned. “You and yours left your scent all over the grounds.”

“Like hell we did.” Higen growled, leaning forward. “We always cover our tracks. After we were done, even I couldn’t pick up a trace of us anymore. So what, your nose is that much better than mine, is it?!” Shin opened his mouth to respond, only for Higen to throw up a halting hand. “Wait. Shit. You’ve got that Aura that further boosts racial traits, don’t you. Fucking shit.”

“Sloppy. Like I said.”

Higen spat. “Yeah yeah yeah. I get it.”

“Anyways.” Shin took a moment to glance back outside, inspecting the line of sitting Oaken Elf prisoners. “We need to have a longer discussion soon. But for right now, let’s get this sorted out.”

“Wait.” Higen cocked his head to one side. “Where’s the pious speech? About our values and morals and shit? I was so prepared to laugh at you.”

Shin scowled. “Like I said. Longer discussion soon. But if you want the short version now, here it is: I can achieve in the daylight the things you make possible in the middle of the night.”

Higen flattened an ear, his brow furrowing. “Not following. But fine, whatever. Until later.” He rose from his crouched position, taking a moment to stretch his back before waving a finger towards the elves assembled in the pavilion. “These are the leaders. You always have to deal with the leaders first.”

True. So that meant Ceril, Wren, the two other nobles and a female elf that Shin supposed must be the oft-mentioned ‘Lady’. Might as well start with the easy ones. “Wren should be with his men.”

“I agree.” Higen caught the eyes of a nearby Wild Son, the kobold moving forward to remove the still-unconscious general. The lady elf made a strangled noise as Wren was dragged away, looking lost and helpless as she watched him go.

“Him I’m keeping.” Shin pointed towards Ceril. “I can still squeeze some use out of him. But these two…” Shin tilted his head at the quivering Elmbo and Margold. “Hm. Did they fight?”

The ghost of Higen’s smile returned. “I asked the same thing. No, they didn’t. They did force their men to fight after the battle was already lost, though. Maybe fifteen, twenty of them died for no purpose?”

Elmbo, amazingly, decided to take a shot at defending himself. “T-t-their duty! It was their DUTY to–”

Shin and Higen snarled at the same time, both elves managing very small squeaks as the canine sound of intense displeasure echoed through the pavilion. The two kobolds stared flatly at the prisoners for a long moment, eventually straightening up to resume their conversation as if nothing had happened. “So, no.” Higen shook his head. “They did not fight.”

“So why are they here?” Shin made a face. “They’re shit. Shit gets buried.”

At that Higen burst into a barking laugh, slapping his leg in approval. “You do remember the Old Ways! Good!” He whistled, four more Wild Sons and Daughters stepping into the tent. “These two.”–He pointed towards Elmbo and Margold–”Bury them.”

As the blubbering nobles were dragged off into the night, never to be seen again, Shin considered the final fate they had to decide. The Lady sat ramrod straight, her eyes squeezed closed and her mouth held tightly as she forcibly controlled her breathing. Interesting, is she meditating? Why had this elvish noblewoman developed such advanced mechanisms for working through high-stress situations?

Honestly, Shin had been close to calling the Oaken Elves a complete wash. Wren would never surrender to him, he knew it. And the soldiers wouldn’t either, not after they’d seen their general executed anyhow. But now he had a potential new tool at his disposal.

Scheming, after all, was about understanding how someone would react within given circumstances. And this elven noble, smart enough to know she’s beaten but strong enough to will herself not to break? Shin was willing to gamble that he knew how someone like that would react when everything was on the line.

“What is your name, my Lady?”

The elf let out a careful huff of air, giving herself a moment to banish the quaver of fear from her voice. “It’s Bittercup.”

“Bittercup, I need you to do something for me.”

She took in another steady breath, visibly steeling herself against whatever was coming. “What is it?”

“I need you to help me save everybody's lives.”