Chapter 6: Pickup Game Part 1

  The dwarf, Winnie, Omara, and even Cato readjusted in their saddles. They started paying closer attention to the surrounding countryside.

  One of Cato’s hands strayed to the small crossbow slung off the side of his saddlebags so he could easily retrieve it. The lightweight weapon seemed to reassure him, or at least lessen the pounding in his head as he cocked and loaded the weapon.

  Winnie was whispering to her juvenile owl in a carrying, musical tone. The owl listened briefly then, blinking slowly at the surrounding woods to either side of the road, launched from her shoulder.

  It hooted softly and flew to keep pace with the party off to one side of the road. Nodding in satisfaction that her friend would be helping keep a lookout, Winnie leaned over and snagged the top of a small sapling near the edge of the road.

  Its roots seemed to slither free of the dirt without disturbing it. She continued to shape the sapling with her hands, the young wood of the sapling seeming to flow easily under ministrations. It shed its leaves gently as she fashioned the harmless tree into a spear with a wicked point.

  Omara put away her tome and withdrew a wand from the satchel at her side. The air around her and Nixen thickened perceptively and shimmered with a soft light as she cast some spell whose use wasn’t apparent to Brynnly.

  Brynnly strung his bow, which wasn’t easy to do when riding. Nixen removed the axe from his belt and hung the loop at its handle over his saddle horn for easier retrieval. The oversized axe hanging from the undersized horse the dwarf rode seemed comical as it almost dangled in the dirt until the full-plated dwarf was charging to swing it at your head.

  Then, nothing happened. Nothing happened for the rest of their trip down the dusty road to Red Adder.

  Nothing stirred on the side of the road or in front of them. Winnie and Omara seemed more stressed than upset over remaining vigilant the entire ride against nothing. Nixen and Brynnly weren’t bored precisely but seemed to accept that this was how business was done sometimes.

  A genuinely fearsome foe, nothing.

  Cato was displeased when they finally arrived at the village.

  “Four hours!”

  He raised his voice to the rest of the party as they drew up in front of the small local inn. Winnie fed her owl a struggling mouse she pulled from a pocket before sending the owl off into the nearby woods.

  ”We rode like harp strings for four hours and nothing!”

  He looked to the Ranger and snarled,

  “Maybe you’re an NPC ‘cause we rode the entire way here as if there was a real threat. All I see is road dust on us. Are there even mobs here?”

  Brynnly bristled before this accusation, but it was Nixen who responded with fury,

  ”Shut it, Cato! Those NPCs are the ones we’re here to protect. Everyone starts as an NPC. You still are! And so help me Jeph you will be until the guild recognizes you as worth more than you demonstrate yourself to be! Apologize, now!”

  Brynnly didn’t look entirely satisfied as Cato mumbled in what could have generously been called an apologetic tone.

  “Sorry.”

  Choosing to take the apology rather than murder the sour little shit. Brynnly nodded curtly to the dark-haired moron before turning to Nixen. He wanted his bed and supper, not to deal with this idiot rogue.

  ”Rooms are paid for. Stable your horses yourselves. There should be something left in the pot near the hearth. Mistress Cera is the innkeep and will tend to your needs till the job is done. I’ll be here at dawn to escort you to the site of the mobs.”

  Nixen thanked the tall ranger. Then, the dwarf ushered the party to the stables, where the horses were rubbed down and put up for the night.

  As they headed into the inn proper, the dwarf pulled the rogue to the side. The dwarf spoke to him in a severe tone as a wave sent Winnie and Omara inside to talk with the inn keep.

  “Get your head out of your ass. We are on a quest, and you will behave in a way that reflects well on the AG. If you can’t, I will have the after-action report show you can’t be trusted with the guild’s reputation and your uncle will get a refund for your idiocy in the form of a different favor from me. You will not be getting drunk tonight. We have a job to do in the morning. Is that clear?”

  Cato looked furious at the dressing down, but Nixen knew that the boy's reaction would have been bad had the confrontation come out in front of Brynnly. Even in front of the two young women, the rogue’s ego could have become a real problem.

  Lazy as he was when there wasn’t money or fun involved, Cato was skilled for a novice with that crossbow and his daggers. He had little inkling of the trouble he would be in if he drew on a fellow guild member, though.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Nixen would have to fix that. As Cato puffed up and opened his mouth with an expectedly stupid, shortsighted comment, Nixen interrupted him.

  “Open your ears and listen, Cato. I should have addressed this when you joined. I figured your uncle already had. Stop being an asshat and pay attention.”

  Nixen took a short, deep breath through their nose before continuing as Cato glowered at them.

  “Your parties safety, the reputation of the guild, and completing the job. Those three things, in that order, are what matters to a party member who is worth keeping alive.”

  Cato opened his mouth angrily to interrupt.

  “No, shut your mouth and listen. I am trying to teach you how to make money.’

  Cato closed his mouth. His shock at the change of what he had thought Nixen was going to say plastered over his face like a cranky pet being sprayed in the face.

  “That got your attention. Shiny bits get your love, eh? So, who gets the best-paid quests? Parties that are alive to do so with a good rep.”

  Anytime you let a party member get hurt, it gets out. Anytime you piss off or slander an NPC, civilian or otherwise, it gets out. Anytime you fuck up a quest, it…gets…out.”

  “I thought paladins weren’t allowed to swear?”

  “We can, for the right cause. Now, don’t fucking interrupt anymore. I’m not fucking done.”

  If you do those three simple tasks, you will get better and more lucrative quests, and the cycle repeats. .”

  Advance in rank? Get to apprentice? You can then be in a party without a journeyman if you want. Having no journeyman around gets you a bigger share per member if you’re willing to take the risk. So, more money. Faster advancement if you show you can be trusted without someone babysitting you. Partial voting rights on guild policy.”

  Get to my rank? You can then start multiple parties if you want the headache of managing more than one. This means a kickback from the guild on top of a share of any successful quest rewards any of your parties gets. Get a better say in the guild’s policies and full voting rights. You get the rights to more significant headaches but bigger rewards too.”

  Nixen rubbed their temples. They were trying to cram an incomplete overview of guild policy into a single conversation, which usually took months or even years to sort out the finer details and etiquette. Finally, Nixen stopped rubbing their temples, almost finished with the lecture to the obstinate boy.

  “Master? Well, they have far more duties required of them. You don’t need much detail beyond knowing you can directly sponsor newbies at master. The guild will give you more kickbacks if they keep advancing. And you are more than a few decades away from that, so focus on now.”

  If you live, you make money. Does your party live? You make money.”

  Get a bad rep for yourself or the guild? No money! Jackass! No one will work with you, and your quests will never again go beyond cleaning stables because you…won’t…be…trusted.”

  Nixen fell silent, glowering at the boy.

  Cato wasn’t a lousy adventurer for a novice. But that chip on his shoulder and the bad habits he had started to portray would get people killed. So it was better to address these issues now.

  The other skills of the rogue Cato wanted to be were being worked on. Some of Nixen’s tips as an experienced adventurer were helping him learn the very basics. His uncle had taught him some of the sneakier stuff before asking Nixen to take him on—a kind of informal sponsorship deal as a favor.

  Cato recognized, surprisingly, his fault as he thought to himself,

  The lilliputian’s right. They are being an ass about it, but how can this help me?

  His mental hamster wheel visibly grinding away with squeaky noises as it turned, Cato responded to Nixen’s lecture,

  “Alright. I’ve been an ass today. I’m sorry. Won’t make excuses neither. We get back to the outpost. You dock my pay half and set me up with Master Clemency for punitive training.”

  Nixen stroked the beard flowing over the breastplate protecting the robust but short frame of the dwarf and replied,

  “Now, why would I reward you with something you want for bad behavior? Even if it were for punishment, Master Clemency’s training would still be an introduction to a guild master with an endorsement for you to be trained directly by him. Other journeymen have turned down piles of gold when asked to do that.”

  I can arrange it… If you can keep it professional on this job. For full pay docked, not half. And you’ll pony up at least another seventy-five gold I’ll need to pay Master Clemency for his time.”

  Cato paled at the cost but considered this and then asked,

  “And if I can’t?”

  Nixen grinned in a way entirely inappropriate for a paladin,

  “ You’ll get an introduction to a master still, and your pay will still only be docked half, but punitive training will be with Master Ian. His payment will be your despair.”

  Cato blanched,

  “That’s not fair! He’ll murder me!”

  Nixen responded calmly with a sweet tone,

  ”Then do what we both want, sugar. Try to stay sober tonight. Master Ian can be a bear of a teacher.

  Remember that our members are supposed to protect each other at almost any cost.”

  The dwarf and the rogue headed into the inn, with the rogue loudly pleading for mercy and the dwarf with the air of a judge who has passed a sentence and will not allow further evidence to sway them. Or precedence, or even the heartfelt plea of requested clemency from a penitent poerpatrator. As they entered the inn, the door swung shut behind them, and the sounds became muffled from outside.

  Several miles down the road, the way the party had come from, the underbrush for hundreds of yards rustled. They swayed like many bodies were brushing against them, moving towards Red Adder County much slower than the adventuring party that had passed them earlier in the day.

  Tomorrow would bring what it would bring for all involved, as for the job that awaited them in the morning. The consequences, short-term and long, would be determined. A majority of them nasty, entirely unforeseen by most of those involved.

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