One by one the men fell into step behind Oliver as he strode across the extinct delta. Confused and uncertain glances were shared between them as they digested his recent display of power. Without looking around, Oliver began to speak.

“There’s an old fort they’ve reconditioned on the other side of those hills, all wooden structures that have sat abandoned for years. They’ve done enough to plug the holes in the walls but that’s about it, it should be simple enough to breach.”

“Any clue as to how many are in there?” Alter asked quietly.

“Hard to say.” Oliver tapped the side of his head in thought “I think we’ve dealt with half their number, maybe a little less.”

“How long do we have to get her out?”

“Nightfall. Anyone they take gets locked up in a cage, then the evening rolls in and the drink starts flowing. Once their boss decides it’s time to have some fun … well.” He trailed off awkwardly.

“Then we make sure to get her out before then.”

Oliver slowed to a stop and turned to face them all, a mixture of tension and confusion battled for control of his expression.

“You’re all taking this very well. I just killed a man with a mythological power and absorbed his knowledge.” He spoke plainly but his eyes were searching.

“It’s …” Alter began as he shuffled his feet uncomfortably, momentarily unable to meet his gaze “It’s a concept we’re not completely oblivious to. Anyway, without what you did back there we may not have found out where they took this girl. Were you expecting us to hate you for that?” He looked back up.

Now it was Oliver's turn to break eye contact.

“A little. I mean, it scares me and I’m the one using it. When my father taught me about this power he made sure to drill into my skull the fact that using it would cause people to abandon me in disgust. I suppose I never stopped to think about it.” He admitted.

“Would you have done that to me when you did your whole ‘intentions check’ thing and didn’t like what you'd found?” Alter followed up.

“I just wanted to thank you for not running away the moment you saw it.” Oliver spoke quickly, avoiding the question as his eyes darted from person to person.

Alter looked at the young man and pondered his words. The lad was powerful to say the least, but the way he’d turned and admitted his fears to them so quickly made him come across as nervous and inexperienced. Yet he had shown little to no hesitation when dealing with the dying bandit, Alter couldn’t help but wonder what kind of life he’d led up to this point.

“Let’s just say we’re made of sterner stuff.” He shrugged.

Those who had kept pace, Riptide, Pavejack and Vangroover all nodded and murmured their agreement. Whim, still desperately sniffing anything remotely scented, Walross and Boats were steadily catching up and would be with them in a matter of seconds. Boozehound could be seen in the distance walking alongside the horse carrying Lady Lucille.

“I need you to do me a favour.” Oliver spoke softly.

“What do you need?”

“Please don’t tell Lucille what I just did. The bandit gave up the information of his own free will before succumbing to the injury. Understood? I don’t want her worrying about me more than she already is.”

“Is there a specific reason for that? Does this power of yours have repercussions when you … erm … extract information?” Alter asked.

“In a manner of speaking. I’m only absorbing the relevant memories. However an inevitable part of them, a slither of the essence of their being is always included. In a small way that man is still alive within me, sustained by my consciousness. Tonight when I fall asleep my power shall expel that slither, it’ll give me a few nightmares to force my way through as he disappears but that’s about it.” Oliver explained sheepishly.

Alter found himself unable to do anything but laugh and shake his head, it all sounded so ridiculous yet he believed it completely.

“What would happen if you absorbed too many memories? Would you get possessed and become someone else?” Asked Riptide in a sudden wave of enthusiasm as his previously grim expression melted into a boyish grin.

“I’m not sure, maybe?” Oliver seemed taken aback by the question and shuddered as he considered the implications.

Alter looked across at his lieutenant and gave him his best ‘try to act professional’ look. Riptide had already opened his mouth to ask another question when he noticed Alter’s hint and, despite his curious nature, managed to close it again. Alter nodded and resolved to continue the conversation as the second part of his squad joined the circle.

“So. We’re looking at a wooden fortification, likely in a state of disrepair. There’s roughly the same number of bandits remaining, give or take ten percent. They’ll probably have a guard or two at the main entrance but judging from their discipline so far I doubt they’d have much more. We’ve got a minimum of four hours of solid daylight to work with, likely more, that should be plenty of time to scout and observe. Am I missing anything?”

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“I don’t think so.” Oliver nodded.

“Alright, we let the horse catch up and then we move... Was sticking twigs up your nose really necessary?” Alter asked, having noticed Whim’s latest smell removal attempt.

“Yes.” Was the emphatic reply.

Alter glowered at the man as he found himself unable to reprimand his behaviour. He’d done nothing particularly wrong and, to be fair, if Alter had smelt when Whim had then he’d likely be doing something similar. He just wished his new coping mechanism didn’t have to look so silly. Finally, the horse plodded its way up to the group and Boozehound gave him a subtle thumbs up.

“How are you feeling?” Oliver called up to Lucille.

“Much recovered, thank you. What have you learned?” She replied airily as she maintained her regal composure.

“Chloe is still alive but she’s been taken back to their lair. It’s not too far away, we’ll get her back.”

Lucille’s noble and proper manner cracked at the news and her shoulders sagged in relief.

“Thank Sirrithae’s mercy. Alright then, where is she?” Her shoulders straightened again as she gently spurred the horse forward, head swivelling for some clue.

Oliver turned to the distant rocks and pointed toward them and slightly to the right.

“Do you see that hill with the twin bands of dark rock? We should be able to see them from atop there.” He called.

“Then what are we waiting for, let’s go!” Laughed Lucille as she urged the horse into a canter.

Alter and his unit watched in bemusement as the horse ran towards the far ridge with Oliver racing to catch up.

“I like these two.” Riptide declared once a safe distance had been established.

“Me too.” Pavejack agreed “But man, Oliver’s power kinda freaks me out, you know what I mean?”

“Well then, don’t piss him off. I’m interested in what Lucille just said, ‘Sirrithae’s Mercy’. It sounds like some sort of local deity. That could be worth looking into later, if we get the chance.” Alter thought aloud.

“You think some sort of god did this?” Whim asked, his voice caught between light-hearted and concerned.

“I’m not ruling it out, especially seeing as we’ve got magic nonsense popping up. But it still doesn’t explain why we arrived here with our in-game loadouts, and the odd game mechanic we’ve run into.”

“What then? We head to the local church and pray really hard?” Boats asked with a hint of disbelief.

“Again, I’m not ruling it out. Come on, we need to catch up.”

The eight men fell into comfortable silence as they quickly made their way across the scattered gravel and ancient substrate of the delta. By the time they caught up to their new employers the ground was beginning its steadily incline toward the rocky heights and the sun had continued its lumbering march across the sky into what Alter could best guess as mid afternoon. Hunger panged at the outskirts of his mind as he focussed on simply putting one foot in front of the other. It had certainly been a long time since he had covered this much distance but his body was coping well, much to his relief. He’d need a refill of water soon, hopefully this fort would have a clean supply.

One by one, puff by wheeze, they all made it to the top of the hill. Again, Alter found himself poking his head over a ridgeline and looking down toward an unaware enemy. There was indeed a fort nestled inside the opposite valley. The rock itself was much more sheer on this side and it formed a cliff-lined bowl with the valley floor reachable only via a narrow pass off to their right. Not the most defensible position but bloody well hidden, you could search the badlands for months and never find this place. The fort itself matched Oliver’s description, ramshackle. He could see that this square construction would have been much sturdier back when it was first built. Carved stone foundations sunk into the dusty ground formed the bottom metre of the wall, with dry and thickly knotted wooden palisades reaching upward for a further three. From Alter’s viewpoint it was apparent where fresh timber had been inserted from the change in colour and the shards of old broken wood scattered across the nearby floor. Frustratingly however, these patchwork repairs seemed sturdy enough, no gaps or weaknesses could be spotted from this distance. Turning his attention to the fort’s interior he could count the rooves of tents scattered throughout, there was no uniformity to their size or colour. One was much larger than the others and was placed at the cluster’s centre, Alter didn’t want to assume the obvious but he was happy to conclude that it must belong to the leader. There was no obvious entry point visible at the moment but a noticeable line of flattened earth leading away from the fort to the pass told him where it must be. A rough wooden watchtower had been put together close to the assumed entrance, Alter could see one guard leaning lazily against one of the corner posts, their eyes were trained on the pass and they didn’t seem to be scanning the wider area. There was no movement from inside the fort, which wasn’t particularly surprising; this group had been greatly reduced in numbers, not that they realised it yet.

“Can anyone see a way down?” He asked.

“Nothing nearby, we may have to use the main track.” Riptide answered and pointed towards the pass.

“I’ve got climbing ropes, remember.” Boats murmured as he fished bright green cords from his backpack.

Alter clearly remembered telling him that having ropes in his kit wasn’t necessary for the Cantabria Mansion but he was glad to see he’d been ignored. Boats’ love for finding weird corners to wedge himself in was an unstoppable force as far as he was concerned.

“Do you know where this cage is?” He asked Oliver.

“Outside Murgo’s tent. I can’t see it from here.” He answered with frustration.

“What can you tell me about this Murgo character?”

“He’s a nasty piece of work, but probably not the brightest. Worst thing though is that he’s an ‘Unlimited’.”

“What?” Alter snapped, worried that another reality defying ‘simple fact of life around here’ was about to punch him in the face.

Oliver looked back at him with a surprised expression which only served to deepen his concern.

“You know, those powerhouses that are double the size of the average man, stronger than bears, etcetera. Every nation snaps them up for their militaries. You must have met a few.”

Alter turned back to the fort and swore, what other surprises was he going to be smacked with today? He hoped bullets would work on this ‘Unlimited’ man. But if that failed then an anti-tank rocket makes quite the impression.

“Alright, let’s search along the ridge and try to find a hidden point to rope down. We’ll circle around behind the fort and try to find a nice gap to squeeze through. Failing that we go loud through the front door and take them all out before they realise what’s happening.” He ordered and his squad broke off in opposite directions.

Alter kept one eye on the camp as they moved, and hoped beyond hope that these bastards didn’t feel like starting the party off early.