“The Guild hardly deals in mercy. It’s never been something we do very convincingly.” The man who had introduced himself as Sef leaned back in his chair in a well-appointed office in the No Qualifications Needed Guild.
At least that’s where the murderer assumed he still was. He had been left there by the Freelancers who had found him. He should perhaps have given them more resistance, but he was exhausted and sickened by his own actions. The murderer looked at the man across from him and was surprised he was still drawing breath. It didn’t make sense. He was still shackled and bound to the chair. “What do you want?” Eli asked.
The man grinned and leaned on the desk towards him. The mirth in his eyes seemed genuine and not cruel, and it confused Eli. He had been kept in a tiny basement cell with no light, and the sun streaming through the windows now still hurt his eyes. He didn’t know how long he had been there. A week, perhaps? Maybe only a few days? It had been dark. He’d slept. Listened to the background of painful screams and wails in his thoughts and let time pass.
“You have many years’ experience in logistics and leadership under harsh circumstances. That’s good,” the man said. “If you make your way through our tests, we might have a very specific use for you. You don’t mind, do you?” he asked conversationally. “After all, It’s better than dying, right?”
Eli was not sure about that. “I don’t know that it is. I have never been dead,” he responded in an empty voice. Life meant knowing either that he had failed, and the screaming plague still spread, or to know that he succeeded and was now a useless man with innocent blood on his hands. His victims had been innocent, however much the bloodshed might have been of necessity. Neither option thrilled him. The Guild’s judgement would be preferable.
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Sef gave him a bright smile. “Don’t fret,” he said and got to his feet. As he went to the door, he continued, “We all die sooner or later. You’ll get to experience it soon enough. Until then,” he said and opened the door, gesturing for a group of three people to enter, “maybe you can concentrate on surviving. As I understand it, you have a rare ability to detect a specific magical frequency, and as it happens, the Guild needs someone to locate a certain powerful psionic. An undead, powerful psionic that cannot be scryed upon or tracked by conventional magic, to be exact,” he added, giving the three women room to approach.
They were quite severe looking, all of them. One was young, probably no more than sixteen though she carried herself with a natural authority. She had thick copper hair in a braid over her shoulder. The other two were middle-aged with grey strands in their dark hair. They looked like sisters, same build and height. All three dressed in dark clothes, leather armour and indifferent attitudes.
The redhead nodded at the owner of the office who was looking at her inquisitively. “Thank you, Sef,” she said. “We will test him. I’m grateful for your help. Whether he will be of use to me or not, Tribe now owes the Freelancers’ Guild a favour.” She bowed her head regally.
Sef smiled and returned the gesture. “It was our pleasure, Queen Cypokrifee. I hope you can use him. We are as invested as you and the Administrator are in apprehending the monster.”
Sef left and Queen Cypokrifee nodded to the sisters. “Test him quickly,” she said. “We don’t have much time before the flayer strikes again.”