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CHAPTER 103: NEGOTIATIONS

SARAH AVERY VASILIAS, GREAT HOUSE SCION, REBORN LVL 5

CRICKET’S RV, KILDARI FEDERATION

“Now where the skhazh do you think you can go off sayin’ somethin’ like that t’me?!” Cricket exploded. “You should be kissin’ my damn toes in gratitude yer brains ain’t splattered on the mountainside!”

Rage burned through Sarah’s body like rocket fuel. There was a terrible clarity and focus for that rage: it was no blind fury. This guy was being an idiot. He had no idea what kind of opportunity she might represent, and it was because he was afraid. Contempt curdled her anger, sharpening it further: his fear was making him stupid.

“Hey man, I can’t help it that I’m being carted around by a goddamn idiot. Are you being deliberately stupid?” Sarah asked acidly. “’Cuz if you aren’t then it’s no wonder that you guys lost whatever war you fought if there were people like you commanding it. Is that really the best thing you can think to do with me—sell me?”

“And what exactly did you have in mind, Imp? What’d be better’n gettin’ rid o’ you with no one gettin’ hurt an’ us gettin’ a pile o’ treasure?” Cricket resumed his walk in the ever-shifting landscape, eyes tracking everywhere on the strangely open plain. “Any Imp’d count ‘emselves lucky and then some to come outta the Cataclysm Mountains with their fucken skin intact, nevermind the royal treatment yer already gettin’.”

“Well, for one, I don’t want to go to the Empire—”

“Yer wants count fer about piss in the wind, Imp,” Cricket cut in rudely. “I do what’s best fer my cell an’ the orcwallah, and unless you can come up with somethin’ better than ‘I don’t wanna,’ and a mountain o’ treasure, then you can do a whole lotta shut the fuck up.”

“You have a Scion of an Imperial Great House who doesn’t want to go to the Empire—would rather, in fact, hang out with an elf and a bunch of orcs assuming they don’t sell her into slavery—and you can’t find a better use for me than selling me to the highest bidder in the Empire?!” Sarah shook her head, looking dubiously at the old orc. “You did just tell me you do what’s best for your…cell? Is that like your town or your tribe or something? Whatever. Obviously, any deal you make with the Empire for me is going to be a setup.”

She narrowed her eyes as realization dawned on her. “Of course, that’s what you want. You want to see who comes to collect. You know it’ll turn south, but if your troublesome Imp gets blown up in the crossfire, any deals you made with the elf that’s going to help you as an integration architect wouldn’t be affected.”

Cricket didn’t say anything, but to Sarah, his silence spoke volumes.

“You don’t care about ‘treasure,’” Sarah said and laughed a little incredulously. She had to acknowledge the old orc’s cunning, even if it was misplaced, “especially not any treasure the Empire would offer you because you know it’d be tainted somehow.” She nodded, coming to a decision. “Okay, cool, I like your plan. But it needs some adjustment. And you’re not gonna sell me.”

Cricket chuckled. “I like yer spirit, Imp, I really do. But nah, it ain’t gonna work like that—”

“No, I’ve had enough of playing the quiet prisoner. You get to listen to me now. Cuz here’s the thing: you’re throwing away a golden opportunity.” She ignored his skeptical look and continued, “Like I said, I’m not from here, but I’ve kept my eyes and ears open, and I think I have something you want—and it’s not something you can just take.”

“Look, I’m flattered, really I am, an’ mebbe yer a looker for other Imps, but uh…” Cricket shrugged and spat off to the side. “I mean, yer fine enough here, at least ya got some muscle definition and a proper set o’ tusks, but yer way too pale and skinny fer any but a fucken pervert—”

“God, don’t you know how to shut the fuck up?” Sarah growled, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “Is there someone else I can talk to? Someone who isn’t…you? Never mind, clearly, there’s no one else. So how many of your orcwallah have an Unlimited Inventory?”

Cricket stopped walking. He turned very slowly, and the jokiness and mockery were gone from his broad green face. “Unlimited Inventory? Yer jokin’ or lyin’.”

“And Enhanced System Access. And a Great House Seal. But maybe you already knew that. I mean, I guess those kinds of things are common for Great House Scions to have? But probably not so common for a bunch of orcs and trolls and hobgoblins or whatever out in the middle of the Cataclysm Mountains.”

Cricket’s lip curled at the mention of a Great House Seal, but Sarah caught what she’d hoped for: he was interested. Better yet, he was greedy for it.

“Ain’t much use fer a Great House Seal out here…” he hedged. “And ‘sides, we a’ready got a price agreed on. Yer buddies at House Bardoul were real eager t’get ahold a’ ya.” He seemed to think that the name held some kind of significance to her, so she filed it away for future reference. When the name didn’t seem to elicit a reaction from her, he scowled and spun away, arms crossed as he tapped his chin with one finger. “And what exactly would be in it fer you?” he asked after a long moment.

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She had him. Sarah very carefully didn’t smile in triumph (though she did give a very surreptitious fist pump) as she said, “Well, I really only want one thing: I want to find my fiance. He came over with me, but I have no idea where he is. I’ve spent the last…well, it felt like years, but I guess it’s only been a month or something? Anyway, I spent a long time in a Tutorial Realm learning how to fight and use these magical powers, but it never got me any closer to finding Griffin. Now that I’m finally out of there…well, I still don’t know where he is. You’d help me find him. That’s what I want.” She had no idea how these orcs would help her, but she was seriously tired of taking a passive role in her existence. If he wouldn’t help… well, she’d worry about that if it happened.

Orange creamsicle-colored clouds scudded across the lemon-yellow sky, but even with the psychedelic colors, it had a feeling of evening. Indistinct bat-winged creatures were landing amidst the constantly transforming flower trees that now resembled grasping hands more than plants. Sarah waited for Cricket’s response, but he was quiet for a lot longer than before.

They stood on the ridge in silence, watching what passed for night descend on the twisted obsidian structure. Sarah didn’t press the point. There were things she didn’t know about the situation, but she’d given the orc something to think about. Of course, she’d laid all her cards on the table—she had nothing left to offer. If they still decided to sell her to the highest bidder, she’d just have to deal with it. Maybe these Bardouls would help her find Griffin when the orcs wouldn’t.

“Be a damn shame to lose out on that sale,” Cricket eventually muttered. “But yer right, they wouldn’t deal in good faith. We always knew that.” He sighed and made a throwing gesture before looking back over at her. “You’d be willing to share yer gifts with us? We got ways o’ makin’ yer oaths unbreakable. We’ll use ‘em.”

Sarah looked nervously at the twisted black obsidian tower in the semi-distance (it was impossible to judge how far away it was: it both loomed right over them and lurked on the distant horizon), wondering what exactly she was getting herself into. I’m taking my fate into my own hands, she thought. To whatever extent I can anyway.

“Yeah, I bet you will,” she said. “But I mean it. I don’t like you very much. I think you’re an asshole, and I know you probably feel the same way about me,” she didn’t miss the wry expression on his face as she said that. “But that doesn’t mean that we can’t work together. You guys have to be doing something pretty fuckin’ incredible if you’ve fought the entire Empire to a standstill in the grave of your former country. If nothing else, it’s about the most metal thing I’ve heard.”

“If you’d a told me this mornin’ when I woke up that I’d get an Imp to agree to an open-ended alliance without us pulling their fingernails out or some kinda blackmail or somethin’…” Cricket shook his head in disbelief. He seemed to be doing that a lot. Finally, he looked over at Sarah and held out his left hand. “I know I’m gonna regret it, but fine. Yer right that it’s too good an opportunity ta pass up. I guess it’s time fer you to meet ‘er. If nothin’ else, if she says ‘no,’ yer gettin’ sold to the Bardouls no matter what—them’s just the breaks.”

“Who? Who’s this ‘she’ you’re talking…ab—” she trailed off as he pointed at the twisted obsidian structure. “You mean there’s someone in…there? That has the final say?” She squared her shoulders and hefted the sword in her hand. “Fine. Sounds good to me, let’s meet ‘her’ and get this over with.”

Cricket chuckled. “We’re already outside the main gates… We’ve been traveling this whole time.” He gestured around them, and Sarah was shocked to find that they were standing at the foot of the enormous twisting spires of the obsidian structure. This close, Sarah could see that it wasn’t obsidian that the structure was made of, but some kind of…metalized flesh. It pulsed slightly with odd veins and wires, and she could feel the animal warmth radiating from it.

They had gone from standing on a ridge which gave them a dramatic view of the structure to standing right in its shadow. It was as big as a mountain, and the gates that they stood in front of were equally as impressive. The front gates were three stories tall, made of more black metallic substance that looked oddly organic. As they approached, the gates opened silently into utter blackness beyond. Sarah hesitated as Cricket disappeared into the dark. She looked around at the bleak vestibule, trying to make a connection she knew she was missing. Who is ‘she’? Guess there’s only one way to find out…

She followed, feeling the urge to swallow in a suddenly dry mouth. The urge quickly passed, replaced by wonder as she passed through the doorway. The effect was not unlike a video game portal: one moment she was in one place and the next she was in a completely different place with seemingly no real transition. The new space was vastly different from the mind-melting world she’d been traveling in. She’d gone from the psychedelic, color-shifting, dynamic painterly world into…a crowded terminal like you might see at a bus station or at an airport.

They were standing on the landing of a wide set of polished stone stairs. The stone was of a kind Sarah was unfamiliar with: it was deeply blue and had little flecks of something very reflective or even luminescent. Brass rails gleamed in the strong sunlight streaming in from a massive circular stained glass window directly above them. The window showed the world outside as Sarah had just experienced it: constantly changing and shifting. Once she saw the window, it seemed to catch her, not letting her go. The strong flavor of fermented grapefruit surged through Sarah’s mouth, and a wave of nausea allowed her to finally break her gaze, double over, and gag.

She stumbled over to a decoratively wrought iron bin half full of garbage and threw up noisily. When she finished, the taste of bad grapefruit was thick in her mouth. She straightened, spitting to get the taste out, and shuddering. She hated puking.

Someone handed her a glass bottle, and she took it without thinking, tipping it into her mouth and swishing it around before spitting it out. Thankfully, it was water, and Sarah found that she was desperately thirsty. She drank the rest of the water in the bottle in one long swallow, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand when she was done. Finally, she had the chance to look around at her surroundings.