“When the wise man stands still, the world moves for him. When the fool rushes forward, he collides with everything in his path.” — The Tao of Idleness, Book 4, Verse 9.
With the various deadlines fast approaching, Scar’s crew picked up their work even further. Watching them, you wouldn’t guess they’d been out in the wilderness for however long they’d been wandering; they were too smooth, too purposeful. Basically, they were more like wolves than actual people.
Idle Gains: +50 XP for the joy of watching jobs well done
Loot Leech: Activated +28 Gold
I know it doesn’t say anything good about me, but seeing my numbers tick up again without actually having to do anything myself was pretty cool. The more Scar’s people gathered, the more I collected, though - clearly - I wasn’t about to advertise that to them. I might be a comparable Level to most of them, but as all my Freeloader Abilities were passive, I was pretty sure the weakest of them could kick my arse every which way and back again. No one in Scar’s crew needed me to tell them I was progressing just by standing around looking vaguely helpful. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt me.
Scar was leaning against a newly felled tree, keeping a watchful eye on proceedings. His approach to leadership wasn’t so much command as it was predatory observation, like he was always ready to spring into action and smack them back into line if the situation demanded it. Right now, his intervention wasn’t much needed as Gareth, a hulk-like man who made me want to apologise to him just for stealing oxygen that might be rightfully his, was splitting logs a few feet away, each swing of his axe sending massive splinters into the air.
"Your crew seems well put together," I said, walking up to Scar. "I can’t imagine there are this many outlaw groups that work together this smoothly, especially after being on the run."
The man gave me a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ve had far too much practice, I’m afraid. Imperials and Rebels alike have given us plenty of opportunities to get good at staying alive.”
“So… how does it work with you guys? I mean, you all seem to have distinct roles . . .”
"You’re trying to figure us out, are you?”
“Just curious. You must admit, you’re not exactly a standard-issue group of survivors.”
“And you, ‘Rogue of Eldhaven’, are precisely what you say you are? A Rogue who, I notice, appears to carry no weapon? There’s a metaphor in that choice, I’m sure.”
My mouth ran dry. Suddenly running a scam – albeit an entirely benign one – on this man did not seem to be one of my greatest ideas. However, just when I feared he was going to call me out on it, he started pointing out various members of his group. “Dema’s the scout, naturally. She’s out there right now, making sure no one’s sneaking up on us. The ‘fog of war’ village upgrade would be very helpful for her; she asked me to pass that on. Girl is a good hunter, but she’s not got a Hunter build, if you take my meaning.”
I didn’t, but it didn’t seem like the moment to seem overly inquisitive. A Hunter who wasn’t a Hunter? Sure. Totally on brand.
“Then there’s Gareth, he’s the team’s muscle. Never saw a Progress Point he didn’t like in the Constitution. And Mabel over there, well, let’s just say she’s good with the kind of poisons that make people disappear without a trace. I think she started as a Cleric once upon a time. But you know what they say. Once you go Dark, you never get Holy Nova back.”
I laughed, then stopped when I seemed to be the only one. I found it fairly noticeable that Scar hadn’t given me any breakdown about his own Build. “Sounds like you’ve all got a talent for something more than just staying alive.”
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“You could say that.” Scar said. “Each of us has our own . . . little specialism. We haven’t survived this long by accident.” He went quiet for a moment before seeming to come to decision and pressing on. “Both the Empire and the Rebellion affect a lot more than just who you fight for. Their influence runs deep. I’ll tell you this for nothing, if you side with the Empire too long, you’ll start seeing things their way. You must feel it?” Scar raised his eyebrows at me at that.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I really didn’t.
Scar snorted. "Look, kid, you're ‘Neutral’ with those fuckers, so you’ve got to know what I’m talking about. The longer you have a relationship with them, the greater the danger you have of seeing things their way. As in, 'follow the rules, or else.' And those rules? They're all about keeping the little guy in line while they squeeze every last drop out of them. They love order, sure—but it's their order. You step out of line, and suddenly you're the one getting chopped up by a cute little Warrior with nice bouncy tits. It's not about 'justice,' it’s all about control. And the longer you stay in their shadow, the more chance you have of just becoming another cog in their well-oiled war machine. And let someone who knows tell you, those cogs really don't last very long."
I gulped at that. I mean, I didn’t exactly need to be talked out of siding with Wanker, but it did make me a touch worried about what I was going to do about Lia when she woke up. I didn’t think I’d actually seen her do much ‘evil’ in the time I’d known her. Everything she did seemed to have a decent enough motivation, didn’t it? Mind you, Level 15 seemed a pretty fucking high level to have reached only doing morally grey things . . . “Sounds like you should be on the side of the Rebellion then?” I said, to try to move the conversation along.
"Nothing father from the truth, I’m afraid. Sure, they talk about freedom, about shaking off the shackles—but don’t get it mistaken in your mind. What they’re selling isn’t about liberty for everyone. It’s about their version of it, and if you're not on board, you're just another 'enemy of the cause.' They'll burn villages, take hostages, blow up a marketplace, all for 'the greater good.' And trust me, their 'good' leaves a lot of bodies behind. Some people on their side might think they’re fighting for something noble, but they’ve really just swapped one set of chains for another—only the new ones come with bloody hands and no mercy."
Yeah. Balethor and Berker fit into that description pretty nicely. “And between both of them, you and your crew are the ‘good guys’ then?”
Scar’s grin was rather too wry for comfort. “Let’s just say we’re… flexible. We’ve experienced the worst of both sides. Neither one’s clean.” He paused. “No. We’re not the ‘good guys’.”
Despite the morose turn of the conversation, I found what Scar was saying was pretty interesting, to be honest. If belonging to the Empire or the Rebellion could shift someone’s personality, that meant the warring factions weren’t just purely political—they were . . . what, spiritual? Metaphysical? If so, I wondered what effect being a part of the Empire had had on me so far? However, before I could ask, a notification pinged in my head.
Alignment detected.
Classification: True Neutral.
I blinked at the sudden input, and then a familiar, wholly disinterested voice made itself known.
"Don’t bother thinking too much about it, grasshopper. You’re just as lazy when it comes to moral choices as you are with everything else. You’ve managed to avoid picking a side, haven’t you? True Neutral suits you fine."
Great. Even the Great Slacker thought I was beigely noncommittal.
Scar was shaking his head, oblivious to the Great Celestial Being telling me I was a colossal fence-sitter. “Me and mine have sworn not to follow anyone’s banner. We’ve all seen what happens to those who do. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have to deal with the consequences: the Empire wants order, but it’s their version of order. You break their rules, you die. Simple as that. The Rebellion? They want freedom, but their idea of freedom is just an excuse for chaos. And if you’re not with them, you’re against them.”
“Doesn’t sound like that leaves a lot of good options.”
“No. No, it doesn’t,” Scar said. “And that’s how we find ourselves in the middle of nowhere helping out random ‘Rogues’ build villages. It’s not an obvious way to make a living, but we figure it’s an honest one.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s about to get a lot harder to stay neutral around here.” I pointed over towards the sounds of a commotion. The upgrade to the Medical Hut was complete. Lia was – finally - beginning to heal.