Fayroll [04] Gong and Chalice

by Andrey Vasilyev

  “Yep. We took out the giants and broke into the fortress, but it’s brutal in there…”

  “Are the Free Companies all dead?” I asked.

  “Who knows?” another of the wounded replied. “Some may still be alive, though it was a mess…”

  Joker looked at me and earned himself an assurance.

  “Don’t worry, they won’t forget about us, even if the officers are all dead. They’ll still find us and put us back to work.”

  His response was a deep sigh.

  “What, they didn’t finish you off over there? Falling down on the job!”

  The exclamation surprised me, though that was nothing compared to the surprise I felt when I looked around the town square.

  Through the gate, which was always open, poured warriors from the Hounds of Death. It was one of them who we’d heard, and he was ready to back up his statement with steel. In a matter of minutes, eight or so of the wounded arrivals were sent off to their next lives. They were picked up, dragged out of the gate, and butchered. The victims didn’t even put up a fight, as their experiences over the past half-hour had them in a state of shock. After getting their fill of the massacre, after all, they’d been sent back—hang in there, bro, you just relax and wait for the nurse to come around.

  And then they’d been trotted out and slammed down on their knees to have their heads lopped off. It wasn’t normal.

  The remainder stood back-to-back and got ready to fight back, though I didn’t think much of their chances. The Hounds took the five who put up the most resistance out of the gate and made an example of them. The rest were roped into a huddle and had their swords knocked out of their hands.

  I quickly turned on my built-in camera, and, judging by his momentarily glassy eyes, Joker did the same.

  One of the first people I recorded was Miurat as he ambled in through the gate. He was accompanied by Romuil, and he walked directly to the wounded, cursing Favorites.

  I wasn’t about to try my luck, so I quickly stepped away from the porch and into the shadow of a poplar. They couldn’t see me; I could see them.

  “‘Fortune’s Favorites,’” Miurat said, shaking his head dubiously. “I’ll be honest, it’s not the best name for you—I wouldn’t say you look the part right about now. Finish them off, all except for a few I can talk to. Leave that one there, and that one. Kill the rest.”

  Cries rang out immediately.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Guys, it’s just a game!”

  “What’s with the genocide?”

  “You’re dead; I’m telling you right now!”

  “I’m going to find you in real life, and you’re going to bathe in blood!”

  Their shouts didn’t last long, as the Hounds were professionals. Soon just about all of the Favorites were dead.

  “This is crazy,” Joker hissed in my ear. “I’ve never heard of anything like this happening.”

  “Are you recording it?” I whispered back.

  “Of course. It’ll go viral—I’m going to make so much money with the recording. Incredible!”

  “Take it easy, and don’t sell it without me. I know who will give you the best price.”

  Joker nodded his agreement, though a closer look left him with something else to tell me.

  “Look, that guy over there by the gate is recording, too.”

  Someone named Gronny was standing there, his head turning slowly from side to side as he tried to capture everything that was going on.

  “Well, my friends, would you like to live?” Miurat asked the last of the Favorites.

  “Oh, cut the crap,” responded one of them. “Been watching too many war movies? You’re going to answer for all this, and so is your clan. Just wait—the rest of our troops will be here in two, at most five minutes.”

  “My clan could bend the whole continent over anyway we wanted,” Miurat replied, laughing in his face. “You and all the rest of the players would be on all fours in front of us, no matter your gender.”

  Well, then. It appears I underestimated you before the battle, gentlemen. You’re still good people, though you did miss someone. Fredegar, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes…

  “This is bizarre,” the second captive added. “I’ve talked with some of yours, and even gone on raids even though our clans don’t like each other. But that’s the clans’ business, not ours. You have some great people. But this…”

  Miurat’s sword flashed twice, two cocoons landing on the dirt of the square.

  “They were right, we don’t have much time,” he said quickly. “Svirt, Knorr, Pochemuchka, watch the river and the entrance to make sure we don’t have any surprises. Rex, Nigel, Monty, Treska, Toxo, load the ones we tied up onto the raft and send them back to the other side. Once they’re on their way, go down along the river and port back to the base.”

  A few Hounds brought three or four players back through the gates, and I recognized them as Free Company soldiers who’d died on the other side of the Crisna, gotten dressed in the hotel, and left the city.

  Whoa. What Miurat was doing wouldn’t have occurred to even the nastiest clans.

  “Screw them,” Joker whispered, adding a few curses for good measure. “They’re going to see us, and we’ll be goners. I don’t care, but it would be a shame to lose what I have with me…”

  “Agreed, though it’s a shame we won’t be able to see the end of the show. Follow me!”

  I didn’t have to whisper the last phrase, as the Hounds were already turning to see me bounding toward the hotel.

  “Grab them!” Miurat barked, though it was too late. I got the key to my room, Joker hot on my heels.

  I was already halfway up the stairs when I heard the outside door bang.

  Joker wants to add you as a friend.

  Accept?

  Of course. I could tell that we had some interesting times ahead of us. But what is that bastard Miurat up to?

  I opened up my friend list to see that Milly had found the time to log out of the game.

  My internal mailbox dinged, and I saw that Joker had sent me a message.

  “What the hell is happening?”

  I quickly responded.

  Sit there and don’t move until I give you the green light. And don’t write a word to anybody about what you saw. About what’s happening, if you don’t know, you at least have a good guess, so don’t pretend like you don’t. Congratulations on picking a winning lottery ticket.

  Screw that, I’m just looking to stay alive. Okay, I’ll be waiting for you.

  I wished there were windows in the hotel—it would have been nice to see what was going on. But who should I write? Not Turok, obviously…

  Ding! It was Miurat.

  Come on down. I give you my word, nobody wants to hurt you. Well, at least, nobody wants to, so long as you come down. If you don’t… You know our clan, you know our leader, and you know what she thinks of people who get in the way of clan policy. If we’re doing something, that means it needs to be done. Miurat.

  Like I was going to take that bait. The best approach in situations like that, I’d found, was to avoid the whole thing. I did, however, need to get in touch with the Hounds—fast. Damn it, I really don’t want to do this, but…

  Elina, hi.

  There’s something strange going on in Mettan, and we have to let the Hounds of Death know about it. Please tell the Gray Witch that Miurat is off his rocker and causing major problems for their clan. I’m in the hotel, I can’t leave. Hagen.

  The reply was nearly instantaneous.

  Give me the details—what’s going on? I’m not about to write the Witch just because one of the most eccentric members of my clan imagines he saw something that may not warrant the least bit of attention.

  Elina, this is in the interests of the clan. Write her and say that there’s a problem here. Believe me, it’s true. I’ll swear by whatever you want; it’s better that you don’t know what’s going on. And please don’t
come yourself.

  ‘In the interests of the clan.’ Well, look at you. I don’t trust you in the least, but it doesn’t sound like you’re lying, especially since Miurat is involved. But I want to meet with you once everything’s done.

  P.S. I hope you won’t have any stinking beards or crazy knights with you this time.

  Well, I’d done everything I could.

  Ding!

  Judging by the fact that you haven’t answered, it looks like you’ve made your choice. See you soon—very soon. Miurat.

  If I was right about everything, the best option for me was to run South as fast as I could and only leave the company base for missions or when surrounded by fellow soldiers. The only problem was that all my fellow soldiers were dead. And everything was going so well.

  My mailbox dinged again.

  Hi, Hagen. You can come out of the hotel, we took care of everything. Turok.

  I was happy to hear the news, though I decided to leave Joker sitting in his room. It was safer that way.

  Miurat and his warriors were nowhere to be seen. The empty square that had so surprised me was also a thing of the past, however. In its place was a crowd of angry, cursing Fortune’s Favorites on the verge of clashing with fifty Hounds that showed no interest in a fight. Fredegar was trying to explain something to them.

  “They killed me! Do you have any idea how much experience I lost?”

  “You Hounds take the cake!”

  “What do you mean, you didn’t have anything to do with it? Who did? Do you think we killed ourselves? Everyone saw—it was your clanmates!”

  “Whatever you’re up to is way over the line. Something out of the Middle Ages—I’m going to report you to the admin!”

  “Oh, we’ll show you who’s in charge of Fayroll!”

  “We should slaughter them where they stand!”

  Fredegar saw me, nodded almost imperceptibly, and bellowed at the crowd.

  “Listen up, everyone who was hurt by what happened. You can lodge your complaints with your clan leaders, who will complain to us if they like. If that is the case, we will discuss compensation. As far as we’re concerned, we’re leaving the city. Open a portal.”

  He glanced at me as he said the last word. Got it. He was concerned about leaving me behind, which was both touching and scary. Whatever. Time to get out of here.

  Joker, come on out, let’s go for a walk.

  He looked out of the door cautiously before coming over to me.

  “Protesters?” He motioned with his head in the direction of the angry players, several of which were standing there in their underwear. Miurat, apparently, had grabbed their belongings.

  “Not happy. Oh, well that’s interesting!”

  A portal flashed, and some high-level players wearing gorgeous, and therefore expensive armor walked out, mad as hornets.

  “Fredegar!” yelled one named Sveneld. “Tell me why I shouldn’t slit your throat—why the hell did your clanmates ruin our raid? What’s going on? Tying players up and sending them over to the other side, so the skeletons start respawning—are you kidding me? I’ve seen some dirty clans, but this takes the cake. Put it this way: you’re finished if I have anything to do with it. Plus—and you can pass this on to the Witch—I’m going to be contacting the game admin. This is unacceptable.”

  “You’re welcome to do so,” Fredegar replied calmly as he opened a portal.

  “Time to go,” I said to Joker, following the Hound intelligence officer’s lead.

  ***

  Fredegar was waiting for us on the other side with a business-like order.

  “Follow me.”

  Once again, I traipsed the kilometers-worth of corridors crisscrossing the Hounds’ citadel, though this time, we were accompanied by Joker’s oohs, aahs, and admiring comments.

  Fredegar ran off with an apology, once he’d gotten us into the mistress’s office.

  “Hi,” the Gray Witch said from the threshold. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Not with the news I have, believe me.”

  “I already know the basics,” the Witch said, quickly getting down to business. “What exactly did you see?”

  “Everything that happened in the square,” I replied proudly.

  “I saw it all, too,” agreed Joker. “And I didn’t just see it!”

  The Gray Witch looked him over before turning back to me.

  “This is Joker, a friend of mine. He really did see everything,” I replied. “I figured it would be best to keep my eye on him, rather than having him run off somewhere to tell everyone what he saw.”

  “Agreed,” the Gray Witch said quickly. “It’s nice to meet you, Joker. So you saw everything?”

  “You’re telling me,” blurted out Joker. “Wow, your people are crazy! They killed them, ruined the Fortune’s Favorites' raid, and almost took us out, too.”

  “Stop, stop, stop,” said the Gray Witch. “Slow down, and tell me in order who saw what. Then we’ll have a picture of the whole thing.”

  “No point wasting time on all that,” I responded. “Here.”

  I sent her the file before continuing.

  “Joker has another version, though the only difference is the perspective. You can negotiate that with him since he doesn’t have an understanding with you like I do.”

  “Are you talking about the file I recorded?” asked Joker nervously. He was obviously thinking about what those “negotiations” might look like.

  “Okay, Joker, you know who I am and where you are, and I imagine you’ve guessed that the massacre of the Fortune’s Favorites was a provocation. One way or another, we’re going to prove that to the gaming community and, if need be, the game admin. You can sell the file to whoever you want or upload it to share online, both of which are well within your rights, and we won’t do anything to you if that’s what you choose. However, if you give it to me, you’ll have the appreciation of my clan, a reward, and my personal thanks. Think about it.”

  “What’s there to think about?” Joker was a quick thinker. “I’d be happy to give you the file, and for the sole reason that I could never refuse such a beautiful woman as yourself.”

  “Well done, you could go far if you find a good clan. Ours, for instance. But, still, I won’t let you go without a gift. Flavio!” The mistress clapped.

  The familiar young man quickly appeared in the door.

  “Take my good friend Joker to the small storehouse and let him pick out anything he wants. Joker, please don’t be afraid to take anything that catches your eye.”

  Joker assured us that he wouldn’t dream of it before walking off with Flavio.

  “Is there anything else I need to know before I watch this?” The mistress asked me.

  “Of course. There’s a third version.”

  “Who has it?” the Witch asked.

  “I have no idea—somebody named Gronny. I’d never seen him before.”

  “Gronny, Gronny…” The Witch snapped her fingers. “I remember someone with that name.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Fredegar walked in without waiting for an answer.

  “Do you have any idea what happened?” he roared.

  “Our clan got thirty or forty members smaller,” the Gray Witch answered as calmly and quietly as ever. “Am I wrong?”

  Chapter Nine

  In which the start and finish are very different.

  “No…” Fredegar responded uncertainly.

  “How do you think I know?” the Gray Witch asked the scout, a touch of indolence in her voice.

  The look on Fredegar’s face made me wonder how much he actually wanted to know. Although to be fair, I may have been wrong.

  “I guessed,” the Witch said with a clap. “Imagine that! I guessed.”

  “Your intuition has always been right on the money,” mumbled Fredegar.

  “True,” the Witch agreed. “I can’t disagree with you there, my intuition is excellent. My intelligence is awful, but my intuition i
s excellent. And I have good friends.” Her hand swept around in a semi-circle that ended in my direction, causing me to shift in discomfort. “People I can depend on, and people, you’ll note, who aren’t even in my clan. So, I have everything except intelligence. And here I thought I did!”

  “Things happen,” Fredegar said in a low voice.

  “Agreed!” The Witch nodded her head, exaggerating the gesture. “Things happen. Roosters lay eggs; you get venereal diseases from virgins; and even civil servants turn out to be honest and selfless people serving our country rather than their own pockets. Okay, so that one is a bit far-fetched. But even it happens! But for a head of clan intelligence to miss almost fifty people planning a revolt, well, that can’t happen.”

  Fredegar was stunned silent, and even I felt awkward—an unusual feeling for me. Nobody likes watching other people argue…

  “How?” the Witch asked quietly. “How could you miss it? How did Miurat even happen to be there? I gave you a clear order to make sure nobody gave the Fortune’s Favorites any trouble, and I even had you send a few people to Mettan so they could keep an eye on things and nip them in the bud if they turned sour.”

  “And I sent them,” Fredegar answered sullenly. “Miurat and his crew.”

  The Witch threw up her arms.

  “With almost fifty people?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” The scout’s voice was getting quieter and quieter. “He said that would be better, just in case anything happened.”

  “And then he put together a show like that, and now we have to figure out what to do… They could lodge all kinds of complaints, from ruining their raid to atrocities, to damages…anything!”

  Raid results

  Your participation amounted to 0.014% of the total.

  Performance: 4 opponents killed, 1 friendly killed

  Because you were killed, you receive no reward for battle or penalties for killing a friendly.