On the lower slopes of the Basilisk’s Ridge—a mountain range which stretched from the Northern Territories through the southern tip of the continent—snow crunched under Entrails’ boots as he followed a young hunter into the hamlet hidden away in these remote heights. He’d run into the man while scouting the area, and after an awkward introduction Entrails now found himself heading to speak with the village elder.
Though the sun had just begun to rise and bathe the moss and snow covered roofs with light, the entire settlement was already awake. Smoke poured from each chimney of the dozen or so cabins that formed the small community. Hunters who hadn’t yet left to track game stood around, longbows looped around their shoulders. They warmed their hands and watched Entrails with dagger-like eyes.
The warrior paid them no mind. Since players rarely bothered to visit these out-of-the-way areas, NPCs who lived in the isolated settlements usually regarded strangers with suspicion or outright hostility. Entrails knew they’d only attack him if provoked first, however, so he kept his mind focused on the goal at hand—to find the fallen Shard which had landed somewhere nearby.
When he’d asked the hunter he now followed about it, the man had been hesitant. It seemed he knew something, but refused to say anything more until Entrails spoke with the elder. Entrails was not surprised by his reluctance; in tiny hamlets like this one, almost all info was funneled through a village elder or chief.
Once they’d reached the elder’s home, the two were let in by a plain-faced woman. Inside, a few more young men learned against the walls, saying nothing, their hands upon the skinning knives in their belts. Word of Entrails’ arrival had no doubt spread quickly through the village, from one whispered ear into another until it reached the elder, who sat in a rocking chair near the fire.
The old man looked every bit the part, his aged face framed by a long white beard and wispy hair at his temples. He received Entrails more warmly than his fellows, however, offering a chair by the fire and having a warm mug of pine-needle tea brought out for the guest.
Before Entrails sat, he learned over and brought the backside of the elder’s hand up to his own forehead, a gesture he knew to be a sign of respect amongst the NPCs in these parts. The village elder said nothing, but his eyebrows raised in surprise—and perhaps approval.
After Entrails had taken his seat and accepted the tea, the old man spoke, his voice calm and measured.
“When the boys brought word of Dasein in our midst, I hope you’ll forgive our trepidation. We do not get many of your kind here. And those that have come in the past… Well. We carry bows for more than hunting goats and snow hares.”
Entrails inclined his head, acknowledging the implication, though he took no offense to the threat. He did not come here for sport and knew the old man was merely drawing lines in the snow. “Elder,” said Entrails, using the formal title. In his experience with village leaders, being as courteous as possible often paid its dividends. “I come seeking information, nothing more.”
“Please, Hennen is fine. Tell me what it is you’re after.”
“Elder Hennen, my companions and I heard rumor of a fallen shard near the village. We only wish to harvest it and be on our way. It would be a great help if any of your people have seen anything and can point us in the right direction.”
“Ah. It’s possible. Though our little community is far away from the eyes of the world, there is still much we see here in the mountains.”
Entrails had expected the old man’s ambiguity; NPCs in his position rarely made anything easy. It was clear that Hennen knew more, but Entrails knew how to play this game of indirect negotiation. “Of that I have no doubt. I would be… very curious to learn of anything, no matter how small.”
“Say we are in possession of this knowledge you seek. Why should I tell you, Dasein? My responsibility is to my people. Your kind has ravaged our village more than once. How will directing you to the fallen shard help them? How will you help heal the wounds of the past?”
“I’m sure there’s something I can do.”
“Hmm.” Hennen stroked his beard. “Perhaps. The winter has been rough. Little game, furious winds ripping the boards from our homes. We have need of much this season. New saddles for the reindeer, strong twine and tallow for our longbows that have grown brittle from the cold.” The old man closed his wrinkled eyes and sighed, as if running through a mental list of all the village’s needs. “How much would this information be worth to you?”
Inwardly, Entrails was relieved. Hennen was about to ask for coin, which is exactly what Entrails hoped he would ask for. Finding and harvesting the Shard was a matter of some urgency. Had the elder requested a side task, Entrails wasn’t sure he and his group had the time to do it. A hostile party of shardseekers had tracked them all the way here, and they’d need to be dealt with sooner rather than later.
Entrails pulled out his coinpurse and dumped a few stamped gold coins into his open palm. “A fair amount,” he said.
“Ah.” Hennen leaned forward in his chair to accept the bribe. “Yes, one of our hunters came across your fallen shard. In a copse of trees further up the mountain.” The old man offered nothing more, but had not yet retracted his hand.
Entrails poured out several more coins.
“Behind the village there is a rocky, overgrown trail, hidden by brush and snow. It will lead to where the shard landed.”
A few more coins found their way into Hennen's hands. This time, the elder leaned back into his chair, satisfied.
“Very good, very good indeed. Once we have finished with our tea, Cadderly there can show you the trail.” Still standing by the front door, the hunter who’d led Entrails into the village nodded. “Will there be anything else before you leave us in peace, Dasein?”
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Entrails was about to return his coinpurse to his belt, when a thought struck him. The NPCs in this village might be cautious, but there were also opportunistic. To survive, they had to be. “Elder Hennen, you mentioned this winter has been tougher than normal?” asked Entrails, as he jingled the coinpurse suggestively.
The old man leaned forward, interested.
“Perhaps you and I can come to... another agreement,” said Entrails.
“I’m listening...”
***
A short distance away from the hamlet, Entrails and his party had set up camp into a grove of snow swept trees. The small instanced area would’ve been invisible to anyone walking past, but since Entrails was part of the group he could see the campfire and his two companions readying themselves for the day. He was pleased to see the two had already stoked the fire and tied up their bedrolls into cylinders.
When Entrails had left earlier, both the mage and the rogue had still been deep in their furs, stealing as much sleep as the morning would allow. He’d decided to let them slumber, firstly because he wanted to scout unencumbered, and secondly because information was valuable and he still didn’t quite trust the rogue fully. Not that he had anything against rogues in principle, but in his experience those who invested in Shadow skills were a particularly dishonest lot.
The dark, shaggy-haired man was the first to say something as Entrails approached.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s back.” Roulez often spoke with an impudent tone, but Entrails could never quite tell if the rogue was actually joking or not. “Trying to sneak off with the loot before we woke, eh?”
“You know what they say, Roulez. Early drake gets the wyrm.”
“I left out some bread and cheese,” said Daenica. The mage sat a fair distance from Roulez, wrapped tightly in her green, fur-lined robes. Though she never said anything outright, Entrails got the sense she didn’t much trust the rogue, either. “I figured you’d be back soon.”
Entrails grunted in thanks. “I scouted a little, spoke with the village elder,” he said.
“And?” said Roulez, expectantly.
“The Shard is close, up the mountain a ways,” said Entrails, being purposely oblique. This wasn’t his first time shardseeking and he’d known more than a few leeches; players who partied up to glean information, only to sneak off and steal the loot when no one else was looking. “Looks like your divination was accurate once again, Daenica.”
The sorceress inclined her head in thanks for the compliment.
Throughout the few weeks they’d been grouped, Daenica continued to prove her worth. When he’d met her, Entrails had thought she would be the least valuable party member, only bothering to recruit her due to her abilities as a Clairvoyant. She’d quickly proved him wrong, however. When they’d got into a skirmish with the other group of shardseekers, it was due to her presence that they were able to escape relatively unscathed and get a head start. Entrails often wondered what other tricks she might have up her fur-lined sleeves.
“And what of our friends down the mountain?” asked Entrails, referring to the hostile party still hot on their trail. He’d hoped the group would lose interest and cease their chase, but apparently they were still upset over having lost loot from the last shard… or maybe it was their party member Entrails had left bleeding out in the snow. Whatever the case, Entrails and his two companions had been able to maintain a half-day lead, but now it seemed another fight was becoming inevitable.
Daenica produced a crystal globe from her inventory, not unlike Entrails’ own Calling Orb, but smaller. As the mage mouthed a silent string of words, the globe began to glow with faint white light. Though there were no other outward signs of scrying, Entrails knew there were visions in the globe only visible to Daenica. Yet another useful benefit of the Clairvoyant skill-tree.
“Close,” said Daenica. “A few hours behind us, maybe less.”
The other group was larger, four in total, and thus suffered a slightly higher movement penalty during travel. Entrails had been counting on having a little more time to prepare, but they must’ve gotten an early start. The big warrior grimaced, subconsciously adjusting the straps on the front of his riveted leather brigandine. Up to this point, he still held out a sliver of hope that they’d be able to avoid a confrontation, but this altered things.
“Change of plans,” he said finally, after considering the options. “We’ll deal with them first, then go harvest the shard.”
“Hold on, hold on,” said Roulez. He pointed to Entrails, Daenica, and himself. “One, two, three. Unless I’m miscounting, we’re outnumbered. I thought the whole point of this was to find the shard and slip away before they could find us?”
“I’ve been shown the path leading to the shard. It’s hemmed in by rocks, the only way up. The other shardseekers are already too close, we'd be caught coming back down. They need to be eliminated.”
“Look, I seen what you can do, Entrails. I ain’t doubting your skill as a warrior. But, well—” The rogue gave Daenica a sideways, wholly conspicuous glance. “You know. It’s basically two on four.”
“I’m more dangerous than you think,” the mage retorted. “Who’s CC was it that kept them at bay in the first place? Answer me that!”
“It ain't personal, lady! Say you find yourself facing off against one of their warriors without me or Entrails nearby, though. What’re you gonna do, exactly? Crystal ball them to death?”
Daenica huffed. “I’ll have you know—”
“Stop,” Entrails interrupted, forcefully. They had no time for bickering. “Roulez, we either choose the battleground, or abandon the shard completely. Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“Abandon it? Hell no. I didn’t trek my freezin’ arse all this way for nothing,” said the rogue.
“Then it’s settled. There’s no avoiding it. Our advantage is a favorable battleground and the element of surprise.” When Entrails had scouted earlier in the morning, he’d found a good spot where they’d keep the high ground and reduce the other group’s numbers advantage… He just hoped there wouldn’t be any other unforeseen circumstances. “I already have the location picked out. If we strike first, we’ll have the upper hand.”
“I have no problem with it,” said Daenica. "Just tell me what you need me to do."
Roulez mussed his hair anxiously, but after a few moments, he acquiesced. “Fine. You’re party leader, Entrails. You make the call. I don’t like it, but I’ll do my part. As agreed.”
Entrails nodded, glad to have the matter settled. “The faster we get there, the better for us,” he said, gathering up the food Daenica had set out for him. If the hostile shardseekers caught them before they reached the spot he’d scouted, things would be much harder. Certain… sacrifices would have to be made, and Entrails didn’t want to be put in that position again. Not this soon, at least. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Sheesh, just my luck to get saddled up with a slave driver,” Roulez grumbled. “Didn’t even get to finish my coffee…”
“Yeah, well. Once our pursuers are dead and our inventories a little richer, you’ll be thanking me.”
“Heh, sure,” said Roulez, in his typical flippant manner. “That I don’t doubt. Not one bit.”
Entrails threw the rogue a glance, but thought nothing else of the offhand quip. To gain power in this world, one often had to work with unsavory types. So long as Roulez held up his end of the pact and put those poisoned daggers of his to work, Entrails was willing to forgive all manner of snide remarks.
Compared to the four vengeful shardseekers on their trail, a disagreeable rogue was the least of his concerns.