On the eve of half a month of completing simple quests with meager rewards, Sigurd was returning to the inn with Nia in tow—they had stopped by the market picking up a board of charcuterie for dinner—when several shadows approached them from behind.
“Finally, here you are!” the deep voice growled in apparent anger.
Sigurd dared not to turn to face his would-be attackers; he hid Nia in front of him, shielding her from any eventuality.
“We've been looking everywhere for you!" the voice continued, menacingly.
‘Wait a minute,’ Sigurd thought, relaxing his tense body. ‘This voice, it sounds familiar.’
They reached out and grabbed Sigurd firmly by the shoulder, “And now that we have you right where we want you...”
The hand pulled at Sigurd’s shoulder, turning him around to face the group. As soon as he laid eyes upon them, Sigurd’s thoughts were confirmed.
“Won't you please forgive our misdeeds?" the voice pleaded, being that of the spearhead of the group.
Before Sigurd, prostrated on the cobblestone road, was none other than the bandit group he defeated before arriving at Grimroost–or at least a dozen of them were. The leader's distinct voice and shiny bald head gave them away.
“What do you mean?" Sigurd asked, both caught off-guard by the display and confused at the same time. “What are you doing here? Have you come for revenge?”
“Not at all, brother!" one of them shrieked.
‘Brother?’
“We value strength, and there's no one stronger than you, dude!" voiced another.
‘Dude?!’
“I echo what my two goons here said. We’ve come to beg for your forgiveness, and for a second chance!" the bandit leader yelled afterward, slamming his forehead against the cold, hard stone.
Flummoxed, Sigurd held out his hand as a gesture to calm the group down. With the other hand, he kept Nia behind him, stamped to his leg. “This is so embarrassing. Please stand up," his face contorted in discomfort. “Let's back up and start at the beginning. What made you seek me out and how did you get here?”
The group of men stood up in a wave, as if synchronized. Keeping their distance, the leader once more spoke up, “While it's true we value strength, that's not the only reason we sought you out. However, you defeating me—and then leaving me and my men alive—acted as a wake-up call.”
Hesitant, Sigurd nodded, disbelief plastered over his face, “Go on.”
“Business was already in a slump—you saw how many empty cages we had, right? My defeat, receiving lessons from Master, it all humbled me," there was a glint in the bandit leader's eyes not present before.
‘There’s no way this is actually happening.’
“So I talked it out with my men, and this group here agreed. Some of the nastier guys didn't and left the old fort to do their own thing, but in opening up we came to a realization: this isn't who we wanted to be," the leader explained.
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Sigurd raised a brow, still cautious and in disbelief, but willing to hear them out, “And so, what? You never wanted to sell slaves, beat them up, or worse?”
“Look, I know how it sounds—I wouldn't trust me either. But the truth is that all of it was just business, a way of making money. When we started acting out, it was all in dumb fun; we were a bunch of good-for-nothing with time on our hands and a desire to belong to something.
“Us ruffians got together when we were younger and started a fight club. That's why we value strength. Over time, more and more people joined, and, because of how life works, eventually, we needed money. So we turned to crime.
“It was never personal, only business. At the same time, I never felt right doing those things, but I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. And by that point, I was already the leader of the troupe, so these goons just followed what I said," the bandit leader exposed.
Behind him, a couple of men cheered him on. Others spurred him on in agreement.
‘I can't believe my ears,' Sigurd thought, dizzy and perplexed.
“Which is how and why we ended up here. We want to turn over a new leaf and I figured the easiest way was by reaching out to you, tracking you down, and seeking–”
At that moment, Nia peeked out from behind Sigurd's leg and the bandit leader caught sight of her frame.
“Master!" the bandit leader yelled out, lunging forth, and dropping to his knees in front of Nia. The force with which he threw himself pushed Sigurd away. He tried to protest but decided to observe instead, at the ready.
Holding her tiny hands in his large shaky ones, the bandit leader pleaded with Nia, “Take us in, we beg of you!”
Mouth agape at the surreal scene that unfolded in front of Sigurd, Joyce thought, “This is something straight out of anime. What is even going on anymore?!’
Nia turned to face Sigurd and, with her usual expressionless face and deadpan tone, asked, “Can we keep them?”
Sigurd stared at Nia, on the brink of breaking down, “What are you saying? These are the men that hurt you and Mia! They're not stray dogs!”
“But they’re apologetic," she countered.
Tears streaming down the group's faces, they nodded in unison.
“You can't put your trust in them like that!" Sigurd argued. “They could be lying to hurt you again!”
“Please, brother," the leader turned to face Sigurd, still clasping Nia's hands. “Give us a chance, we're begging you! With your strength, you can take us down if need be. Or you can hand us over to the town's guard. But we want to prove ourselves, do right by our Master!”
Sigurd shook his head, “And why do you keep calling her ‘Master'?”
The bandit leader cocked his head in confusion, “Because she's a master at what she does, she's my—our Master. She proved it when I let her instruct me on the error of my ways!”
“OK, stop. I need a moment," Sigurd replied, again shaking his head, and holding out his palm.
‘This is illogical, but let's rationalize,' Joyce thought. ‘Against my soldier's—nay, my woman's instinct, let's assume I give them the benefit of the doubt. What are the risks?
‘For one, they could abduct, maim, or kill my precious girls. They could also wreak more havoc on Grimroost, or they could even attempt to snare me in a trap and murder me as well—not that they could.
‘Even assuming they really have turned over a new leaf, as they claim, what happens next? If I reject them will they insist? If I accept them, what will they ask of us? Trusting a bunch of adult men—and known delinquents at that—with two young girls is far too careless.
‘Not to mention I'm busy every day with these blasted quests. They'd have no one to keep them safe or aid them in the worst eventuality. There's so many red flags here, and yet,’ the cogs in Joyce's head stopped turning. ‘Nia seems so sure of them.’
“And if I were to give you a chance,” Sigurd spoke up after those long minutes of silent rumination. “How exactly would you redeem yourselves?”
“We can't do much, but we were hoping to be your bodyguards,” the bandit leader stood to face Sigurd at his height. “If not yours, then theirs." He patted Nia on the head, ruffling her hair.
“You don’t need to pay us!" one of the men in the group said.
“You don't even need to feed us!" another chimed in.
“What they said,” the bandit leader agreed. “We're resourceful, so you don't need to worry about us. We just want a chance to mend our ways.”
Sigurd expressed doubt, shaking his head quietly. Upon noticing that, the guild leader began sweating nervously.
“I can see you're not convinced. What about information?” he stammered, bordering on despair. “We operated independently, so we don't know any of the groups in town personally, but we still know of the hierarchy here. I even know of a reputable information broker that deals with all the big shots!”
Sigurd's expression lightened. ‘Damn it, that's the in I need, but can I trust them..?’ he thought. ‘Or rather, do I have any other choice? Should I reject a golden goose?’
“You've got my attention now," he said softly. “I'll give you all a chance, if only because Nia seems to think you'll do good, but I have conditions.”
“Name them!" the bandit leader blurted with a relieved smile.
“You'll fully clean up, that means no crimes, whatsoever. I'll also need to make good on your alleged information broker,” the baron announced, sweeping his gaze across the group. “And lastly, if you try to betray me, or hurt the girls in any way, forget prison time: you're dead. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!" the entire group voiced in unison.
Sigurd nodded and gestured at Nia to take his hand. The decision still made him feel unease, but he stood by his word.
“Now then, accompany us to our lodging. And while we walk, talk to me about that broker," he told the leader. “And before we continue, let's stop with all the cutesy nicknames. My name is Sigurd, your Master is Nia–”
“But you can refer to me as Supreme Overlord Master,” Nia interjected.
“Yes, Master!” the bandit leader yelled.
“Don't play along!" Sigurd protested, flustered. “And your name is?”
“Barry! Nice to acquaint you properly!”