Chương 64

Goodbyes After my meeting with the Lord of Stonehaven, I began the journey back to the outer city to find the rest of the gang. The outer city was what the citizens of Stonehaven – the Stonehavians? – called the buildings and houses beyond the city walls. I suppose that's the problem with building a wall around a thriving city – eventually you run out of space inside. Still, they'd made the best of the situation, and apparently there were now almost as many people living in the outer city as in the inner city.

As you'd probably expect, the wealthiest citizens of Stonehaven lived within the walls, with the Lord's residence sitting at the very peak of the incline the city was built on. As I made my way down the winding roads that cut through the city, grand, walled estates quickly gave way to large but functional buildings, which in turn gave way to simple homes and businesses. In many ways, the inner city had suffered the most under Lokta'Inif's reign.

Many Trialists – being the arrogant asshats that they are – deemed the peasants in the lower city beneath their notice, and so spent most of their time wreaking havoc within the walls. Not only that, but Lokta'Inif had tasked her minions with ransacking homes in search of anything valuable that might boost her position on the leaderboard for acquired wealth. There wouldn't have been much point doing that in the poorer districts of the city.

* I returned to the battlefield to find Rel, Kaelis, Voklum, and Allaria still sorting through the loot. Over thirty of Lokta'Inif's guild members had died in the fight, which meant there was a lot of it. There were the weapons and armour the Trialists had worn into battle – though these had been somewhat diminished by Pete's Peasant Patrol taking their pick – but there were also the inventory pouches they'd been carrying.

And judging by what we'd found, some of the dead Trialists had been enthusiastic little hoarders. Their pouches were crammed with assorted quest rewards, armour, weapons, potions, and scrolls. The gang had clearly been busy in my absence, because around forty pouches had been arranged into neat rows on the ground.

"We've almost finished taking inventory, Master Pete," said Kaelis, rising to his feet as he noticed my approach. He held a notepad in one hand, and judging by the scribbles covering the page, it looked like he'd been the one managing things.

"Would you like me to give you a brief summary of what we've found?"

"Absolutely," I said. Kaelis nodded, then pointed to two inventory pouches that'd been set aside from the rest.

"Those two contain all the items we think are worth holding onto for now. They might prove useful for members of our party in the future." He gestured to the pouches that had been arranged into rows.

"And these are the items to be sold on the auction house. We've tried to organise them based on what we think they'll be worth, but the estimates rely purely on our own knowledge, so we'll have to see what the auction master says." Forty pouches of items to sell on the auction house? Maybe my time at the top of the leaderboard for acquired wealth was not going to be short-lived after all.

"Excellent work," I said, trying to suppress the shit-eating grin threatening to break free.

"Out of interest… what do you think the total value of all the items is?"

"It's hard to say, Master," Kaelis replied.

"But it's not unreasonable to expect at least eight million gold if we sell everything." Eight million gold… Fuck yes. I started to chuckle.

"Are you okay, Master?"

"I am," I said.

"I was just thinking about how absurd a number that is. It only feels like yesterday that Rel and I first arrived in Oakreach. Do you remember? You hired us to carry your shit in the Tower. It's just crazy to think that, back then, I was so excited at the prospect of being paid one gold a day, and now we're throwing around numbers like eight million as if it's no big deal."

"Ah…" Kaelis said, clearing his throat.

"I do vaguely recall that, yes." I glanced over to Rel, who was sat on his own a little distance away. He had an open inventory pouch in his paws, and, judging by the distant expression on his face, he was examining the contents.

"What's he up to over there?" I asked.

"The Grandmaster is examining the scrolls," said Kaelis.

"We found four of them in the pouches." The news was both incredibly exciting and a little terrifying. I clapped Kaelis on the shoulder, then wandered over to stand over Rel.

"You know," I said, "Lord Thargorn told me the strangest thing…"

"Hmm?" mumbled Rel, his attention still on the contents of the pouch.

"Yeah. He said that, since being released from the dungeon, he's heard several rumours about me. Some of them were pretty outlandish, but one in particular stood out. Something about me being the bumbling manservant of a great and powerful archmagus with a majestic hat."

"And robe–" began Rel, before catching himself. He finally pulled his gaze away from the inventory pouch and shot me a look that I assumed was meant to convey ' oh wow, I'm just as shocked as you are by that ridiculous rumour'. It was not convincing.

"You shouldn't listen to rumours, Pete," he continued, before excitedly handing me the inventory pouch. I stared at him for a few moments, considering all the things I could do to his 'majestic hat', but then I shook my head. Revenge was a dish best served cold. Besides, I was very curious about the scrolls. Cast Spell: Frostbolt Launches a bolt of frost at a target. The bolt deals cold damage and chills the target, reducing their movement speed for a short duration.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Damage and slowing effects scale with the caster's intelligence. Cast Spell: Rejuvenating Touch The caster applies a heal-over-time effect on themselves or an ally. Heals injuries of the flesh and gradually restores the target's health over a short duration. Healing and duration scale with the caster's intelligence. Cast Spell: Summon Earth Elemental Summons a hulking elemental of stone.

The elemental possesses extremely high durability, but deals minimal damage. It has a taunt ability that forcibly draws the attention of nearby enemies. This effect may be resisted by enemies with sufficiently high intelligence. Taunt Cooldown: 30 minutes Cast Spell: Polymorph Transforms a target into a harmless creature for a short duration. While transformed, the target is unable to attack or cast spells, and its abilities are suppressed. Any damage caused to the target will break the effect.

Polymorph can only be used on one target at a time. Duration scales with the caster's intelligence.

"Damn," I said.

"These are awesome."

"Indeed," replied Rel.

"Allaria has proven to be an able student this past week, so I intend to help her learn how to cast Rejuvenating Touch. It may take several weeks, but I think she'll prove to be a quick learner." I nodded thoughtfully. It was a great idea. Based on what I'd learnt about the Expedition Centre, it was very unlikely that Kaelis, Voklum and Allaria would be assigned the same Tier as me and Rel.

The chances were they'd be heading off on plenty of adventures as a little group over the next few months, so it made sense that one of them learned how to use magic. Seeing as they wouldn't have me around to act as a human shield, a healing spell would be especially useful. * Pete's Peasant Patrol stood assembled before me, every member looking splendid in their tunics and new equipment.

As they were not Trialists or summoned minions, they didn't benefit from the magic that caused armour and weapons to change size to match the user. This meant they'd had to scour the battlefield for equipment that actually fit. Some had managed to loot entire suits of armour, whereas others had to piece together a bunch of mismatched parts. In the case of absolute beasts like Dekrek, who couldn't find anything that actually fit, they'd ignored the armour entirely and opted for weapons instead.

Dekrek had found some particularly nasty knuckledusters that had impressive spikes jutting out of the metal. When he'd seen me return, he'd ran over like an excited puppy to show them off. He then insisted that I watch him demonstrate how he was going to use them to protect all of the villagers in the forest. This involved several minutes of enthusiastic shadowboxing, with Dekrek bobbing, weaving, and throwing together some incredibly impressive combinations.

It also involved him shit-talking his imaginary opponents.

"This is what you get for being a bad person, bitch!"

"Next time, maybe you'll think twice before robbing someone, bitch! Too late… you're dead!"

"Stay down, bitch! Actually, get up. I want to hit you some more!" As I watched the slightly disturbing but very impressive display, I felt rather bad for any bandits who would be unfortunate enough to cross his path. They were going to have a shit time. Once Dekrek had worn himself out and rejoined the others, I cleared my throat and studied them for a few moments. Their voices trailed off as they turned to face me.

One, entirely oblivious, attempted to continue his conversation, but it was cut short when the person beside him jammed an elbow into his side. He spun indignantly, his face twisting into a snarl… and then he realised everyone had stopped talking. He followed his companion's gaze, and his eyes found me. He fell silent.

"Right," I said.

"First of all, I want to thank you again for your help in the battle. I really do appreciate it. Not only did you help me – you helped every single person who lives in Stonehaven and the surrounding forests." I began to pace back and forth.

"As far as I'm concerned, by helping in the fight against Lokta'Inif, you've made up for all the shit you did as bandits. If you want to leave now, you're free to do so. However, I spoke to the Lord of Stonehaven earlier, and he told me it'll be at least a month before he can send out patrols to tackle the bandit problem – which means Pete's Peasant Patrol's work isn't quite done yet." A rather chunky bag of gold appeared in my hand, drawing a few excited murmurs from the ex-bandits.

"I'm going to make you what I think is a very generous offer. If you agree to continue protecting the area for six more weeks, I will make it worth your while. What was it that I was paying you before? Ten gold a day? If you continue to help, I'll bump that up to two hundred gold a day. Now, I'm no mathematician, but I'm fairly certain that means you'll earn 8, 400 gold over the next six weeks.

I asked around while I was in Stonehaven, and I was assured that'd be enough money to let you live a very comfortable life without ever having to work again." The excited murmurs erupted into cheers, along with several very enthusiastic discussions about what they were going to spend the money on. I grinned, then raised a hand to quieten them down. It took several more elbows to the ribs, but eventually they turned their attention back to me.

"But let me be clear about one thing." My grin evaporated.

"If you take me up on this offer and I find out that you've been fucking around, taking advantage of the people you're supposed to be protecting, or slipping back into your old bandit ways, you'll have me to answer to." I raised a hand, fingers perfectly straight, and studied it for a few moments. I was going for dramatic effect, and judging by the stunned silence and looks of horror – no doubt inspired by a trip down memory lane – I'd nailed it. Just to make sure I'd really gotten the point across…

"I'm sure I don't need to remind you what happened to Bok'than?" I did not. * I was very pleased when every single member of Pete's Peasant Patrol took me up on the offer. As they broke off into little groups to talk through their plans, Dekrek made his way over to me. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words failed to emerge. He reached up to scratch the side of his head and took a deep breath.

"What's up, buddy?" I asked.

"Mister Pete…" he said quietly.

"Everyone thinks I'm stupid… and maybe I am. Sometimes people pretend to be my friend, like Bok'than, but they don't really care about me. They only care that I'm strong. They want me to do bad things for them. To hurt people. I know it's wrong, but… I just wanted them to like me." He pinched the fabric of his tunic, his fingernails creasing the silver lettering that read 'PPP', and his lips slowly curled into a small grin.

"But you're different, Mister Pete. You don't make me do bad things. I get to help people now. Before she died, Mama used to say to me, 'If you can choose, choose to be kind'. I think she would've been very sad if she'd known I'd helped Bok'than. But now that I'm part of Pete's Peasant Patrol and helping people?" His grin transformed into a beaming smile.

"I know she'd be very happy."

"I… that's… I mean…" I tried to respond, but I was a little lost for words. I shook my head, then returned his smile.

"I'm proud of you, Dekrek." He stared at me for a few moments, his eyes glistening, then lunged forward and scooped me up in a big hug.

"Thank you, Mister Pete," he said.

"You're like the father I never had." Wait, what? He put me down, then reached up to wipe his eyes.

"What happened to your father, Dekrek?" I asked.

"It's a very sad story, Mister Pete," he said, shaking his head gravely.

"One day, when I was a young boy…" He raised an enormous hand to waist height to show how small he'd been.

"I was helping Papa on the farm, and he turned to me and said, 'Dekrek, I'm going to head over to Old Menlam's farm to get some fresh milk. Make sure you're a good boy and take care of your mother.'

"I was a bit confused, because we had cows of our own and plenty of milk, but my Papa was a very smart man, so I didn't think too much of it. I carried on planting the seeds, waiting for him to return. I remember I kept glancing up at the forest, expecting him to appear between the trees at any moment… then it started to get dark. Mama came back from the market and asked where Papa was. I told her he'd gone to get milk. She didn't say anything for a while. Then she just nodded and said, 'Alright.'"

Dekrek sighed sadly.

"He never came back." I stared at him for a few moments. His father went out to get milk… and never came back. Who knew deadbeat dads were a thing in orc society too?

"That is a sad story, Dekrek," I said, not entirely sure how to respond to something so absurd and yet, somehow, so tragic. Dekrek nodded, his face grave.

"Mama said sometimes people got lost on the way to Old Menlam's farm. It was a very confusing route."

"That makes sense…"

"There were a lot of trees," he added.

"Well, maybe he'll find his way home one day."

"Or I'll find him," Dekrek said, brightening.

"Once Pete's Peasant Patrol has finished our important work, I'm going to see if I can find him and help him get home!" Oh, you big, sweet, oblivious bastard. * A short while later, I watched Pete's Peasant Patrol march back into the trees, eager to return to their work. It turned out that the promise of two hundred gold a day was excellent motivation.