The Rifleman - Ch.36 (Patreon)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Just Passing Through… Again.

Wesley approached the Outpost a few hours after sunrise, having released his hold on the My Domain spell just a couple of hours before. He and his sims had spent the last two hours before they left cleaning, scrubbing, and organizing the entire thing. His plan was to test if it would remain that way, having specifically left his flint and striker in the middle of the main table. The idea was to test if he could make improvements to the place as he went along. 

His flint and striker were left behind as the test simply because it would be the thing he would miss the least, given that he tended to light the fire with Improved Flare instead. 

Much of the time between his sleep and those two hours had been spent doing the very thing he had promised to do if he survived the invasion.

Making plans. 

The first of these had him walking toward the outpost rather than the nearest Zone border. It was all about unfinished business between him and Gem, really. That could be left to hang over his head forever, and he could forget about having anything to do with the Delver’s guild, or he could settle it once and for all and have at least one place to belong in this crazy game.  

His early experience of the Delver’s Guild had been a fairly mixed bag, with Gem and the Wyrd Watchmen on one hand and the receptionist Karl and the recruiter on the other. Not to mention his one bit of free advice so far from one Malia Kerr.

She had said to find her if he made it as far as Tier Six, which he now had. 

So, that was plan one: sort things out with Gem, find Malia, and see if he could build himself a place on some team or other.

Plan two was to stay on the edge and be a solo delver, living off the smaller quests and dungeons until something better came along. 

It wasn’t great as far as backup plans went, but it was something. 

Admittedly, even making medium-term plans felt like tempting fate, but it was better than nothing.

The Outpost looked completely untouched by the passing armies of the Den Mother, but it was difficult to tell if that was true or if it had been quickly repaired. One thing that was clear before he even got here was that the Delver’s Guild had teams on both sides of this thing, which was immediately confirmed by a tired laugh from a familiar mage leaning next to the outer door and chatting with a small group.

“Wolfie Wes,” She smiled and waved. “Glad you made it.”

“You too, Bitchy,” Wesley chuckled as he dodged a half-hearted mana string.

“If that name sticks,” she warned. 

“It’ll stick,” A young man next to her nodded vigorously.

“Try telling people your actual name next time,” Wesley called as he reached for the door. “Why do you think we never actually called you anything else?” He winked and stepped into the busy Outpost, leaving her with a stunned look on her face.

Inside, the place was clearly doing a roaring trade as everyone tried to get out of the zone. Most of them must have been on the other side of the fight, which made him clench his fists for a second before he remembered they probably didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. He sure hadn’t.

“No fucking way!” Hank roared across the room. “You bloody made it!”

“I sure did,” Wesley grinned. “Although it was close a few times.”

“Did you hi–” Hank stopped and frowned. “Shit, you didn’t hide, that’s for sure.”

Wesley quickly guessed the man had some way to tell Tier, which was a skill he really wanted to learn. 

“It’s been a busy couple of weeks,” Wesley admitted. “That portal open again?”

“Wait your turn,” someone called. “We were here first.”

“No, he was,” Hank called back. “Got turned back mid-transit. He paid and everything.”

“Damn,” another person muttered. “Guess we have time for another drink.”

“Tell you what?” Wesley took out a couple of silver pieces. “Have a round on me.”

It never hurts to buy a round, as every barfly, conman, or actor will tell you. 

So, instead of heading back to the portal with a room full of pissed-off adventurers behind him, Wesley left to a collective cheer. 

“Clever lad,” Hank laughed. “They’ll remember that next time you meet.”

“Let’s hope so,” Wes nodded. “Thanks for everything, Hank. Did you make it through all that okay?”

“Not in the slightest,” Hank said with a knowing look. “Just like everyone else. Good luck, oh mighty Wolf’s Bane.” He winked and shoved Wes through the portal… which this time actually took him back to the familiar portal room in the Delver’s Guild house, deep inside the Unnamed City.

//////////////////

Everything was not exactly calm in the Delver’s Guild Hall. In fact, it was far from it. All Wesley knew was that everyone was whispering and gossiping until he walked in, looked around, and waved to Karl.

“Ruddy Hells,” The recruiter dashed into the back.

“Uhh, bad time?” Wesley asked nervously as every eye in the place turned to look at him, a wave of silence emanating from where he stood.

“You made it!” Karl looked astonished.

“I wish people would stop being so surprised by that,” Wesley said nervously. “I mean, that was the idea, right?”

Any further conversation stopped as an angel walked calmly down the stairs from the upper floors. 

Wes gaped openly, and he was far from alone. 

“I see our little lost lamb has returned, apparently having slain the wolves.” Her voice was melodic, and her pure white hair moved constantly as if in a gentle breeze that gently ruffled the pure white feathers on her wings. “You really have caused a few problems, young man.”

“How?” Wesley asked, shaken out of his shock. “I wasn’t even here.”

“I’ll explain. Come upstairs,” She frowned at him, and Wesley was finally able to shake the angel image. She was certainly strange, and there were definitely wings, glowing skin, and all that, but he was pretty sure angels didn’t wear armor like that or have the calluses of weapons on their hands, not to mention a single scar running down one arm.

“Good luck, kid,” Karl whispered as he walked past the desk, “Don’t bullshit her; she’s the Boss.”

“Got it,” Wesley nodded and followed the woman up the winding stairs to a high tower, where she stood and stared hard at him from behind a desk of carved bone, the walls of the room open to the air around them.

“What do you know of the Necromancer and Guild Officer called Gem?” The Guild Master placed one hand on the desk, pushing a small note to the top of a pile. 

“I met her in Safeholme; she hired me to escort her to the Unnamed City and then became my assignment officer,” Wesley repeated his carefully crafted truth. Nothing he said was a lie; it just left out most of the essential details. “I was assigned as a temporary member of the group known as the Wyrd Watchmen.”

“Yes, you were,” the angel who wasn’t, frowned. “That is all you know of her?”

“Pretty much,” Wesley replied. “I might have forgotten a couple of things; it was a busy few weeks.”

“Indeed,” she looked at another, larger set of notes. “We will come to all that in a moment.” A heavy sigh, “Gem is currently on trial for her actions during your escort agreement, more accurately, her lying about it.”

Wesley kept a carefully neutral face.

“I see,” she gestured him to a chair, and he sat down. “I would like to resolve this with as little damage to the Guild as possible. With that in mind, I have to Ask you a question.”

Wesley heard the power in the word and swallowed. “Can I ask if it will violate my promise to Gem?”

“Not necessarily, though it does concern it,” Her skin glowed with power. “Did you tell anyone of what happened between you and Gem?”

The question wormed into his head, and the answer rose without him having even the slightest chance of stopping it.

“No, I would prefer never to mention it again. I came to see if it was possible to take an Oath of Secrecy and, therefore, put it behind both of us for good.” Wesley looked in horror at his own mouth. No part of him had any part in answering the question. 

The Guild Master made a note, “Do you believe Gem attempted to kill you with the assignment to the Wyrd Watchmen?”

“I did,” Wesley admitted despite himself, “But I overheard something just after the Watchmen tried to attack me that suggested that Gem might have hoped I would be a good fit.”

Another note, “Will you attempt to take revenge on Gem in any way?” 

“No, I just want to be left alone to make my way in the guild without having to worry about any of this,” Wesley fervently agreed with what he was saying, even if he had no part in saying it. 

“Wait here.” The command locked him to the chair as if he were nailed to it, and Wesley gritted his teeth in frustration. His two wispy simulacrums would have come in very handy here. To keep a lower profile, Wesley had released them, able to call them back if he wanted them. Not that they would have been able to do much, but they could at least have guarded him. 

A very long few minutes later, Wesley felt the power holding him wane as the Guild Master returned, Gem trailing meekly in her wake. Seeing Wes and his sweat-streaked face from struggling to move, she paled slightly. 

“Officer Gem, you seem to have a knack for causing problems, and yet again, your poor judgment has nearly lost you not only your position here but your head!” The Guild Master slapped the desk with evident irritation. “Whatever happened in that swamp is clearly something your initiate has no desire or need to talk about,” Gem’s eyes snapped to him, clearly shocked as the angel went on, “He has told me of his belief that the assignment to the Watchmen was not the assassination attempt we all believed it to be, but that is not enough for me. I shall Ask, and you shall answer in his presence.”

“No, please–”

“Did you attempt to kill this man with his assignment to the Wyrd Watchmen?” 

“No, I thought he would be good for them, and with them, he would be unlikely to make trouble for me,” Gem answered, and he could see his own horror at the experience mirrored there. “I was panicked. I can not afford to lose my place in the Guild.”

“Will you make further attempts against this man, be it to remove him from the guild or any other way?” The Guild Master asked mildly.

“Not unless he is a threat to me,” Gem answered and paled as she went on. “I must retain my position here for my sister’s sake; I’ll do anything I have to do to ensure that.”

“Ah, yes,” The Guild Master examined another piece of paper. “She requires the Guild Healers, or else the curse will take her completely.”

Gem nodded mutely.

“He has offered an Oath of Secrecy in exchange for no further actions against him. Will that secure your belief he has no ill will towards you?”

“It would; I know I made a mistake, and I am sorry for it and how I treated him. If I had any warning or more time…. I tried to get through the portal the moment I heard about the invasions. I wanted to help him. Undo what I had done.” Gem was actually crying by this point. 

“Then I consider the matter sorted.” The Guild Master smiled a cold, distant smile. “Please, do not let us have another little chat. My patience is limited.” She looked down at her papers for a minute before looking up. “Get out?”

Wesley and Gem fled for the stairs.

///////////////////

“What the hell is she?” Wesley whispered to Gem once they were back down the stairs and safely nestled in a corner. The place had cleared as if a bomb was about to go off, which, given the Guild Master, he understood. 

“She’s something,” Gem shrugged. “No one has ever dared ask what.”

“So….” Wesley said after a minute. “Want to do that Oath thing?”

“Please,” Gem nodded, and a prompt scrawled across the table, which he read carefully before accepting. It was as basic as you got. He would never discuss what happened in the Marsh ever again. “Thank you,” Gem seemed to slump in her seat. 

“Why the hell didn’t we just do that the first time?” Wesley hissed.

“You never mentioned it,” Gem shrugged apologetically. 

“I’d never heard of them!” Wesley protested. 

An awkward silence settled over the table. 

“I heard about the invasion,” Gem said eventually, “I’m sorry you got caught up in that.” 

“Speaking of which,” Wesley said, “I have a letter from the Mayor, Miles Earnshaw; who do I give it to?”

“Me,” Gem held out a hand, and Wes handed it over after a slight hesitation. She read it over and then sighed. “I need to show this to a senior officer. Will you wait here, please?”

Wesley nodded, feeling somewhat anxious as the woman vanished with the letter. If she did something to it, at least he knew where to get a replacement. 

“You alright?” Karl whispered as he brought over a fresh drink. “The Guild Master do her thing?”

“Creeped out, and yeah, she did,” Wesley whispered back. 

“Well, you did good, kid.” Karl flashed a smile as he turned to go.

“How do you know?” Wesley asked.

“If you hadn’t, you never would have come back down the stairs; lots don’t.” Karl hurried off as Gem came back downstairs with a stone-folk man in leather armor. 

“Badge?” The man held out his hand. 

Wesley handed over his badge. The man pressed his own silver badge against it, as did Gem with her own.

“Congratulations on reaching Iron Rank, recruit,” The man tossed it back. “Now you get to do the really nasty shit, like the rest of us.” He shrugged. “You make it to silver, come and see me. I can always use a good ranged attacker.”

With that, he turned and ambled back up the stairs.

After he left, Gem and Wesley talked for quite a while. It was clear that she had simply acted out of panic, and while Wes couldn’t be sure what exactly was wrong with Gem’s sister, he could tell it was why she had acted the way she had. Not that it made it any less shitty, just more understandable. 

They tried to relax and talk like they had before, but it just wasn’t there anymore. The two had been on the first steps of the road to a good friendship, but there didn’t seem to be much of a chance of salvaging it. 

The one good thing to come out of the chat was that he was able to find out more about Malia and her group, the Errant Rangers. They seemed to be more of a small guild than an actual team, with member numbers normally ranging from fifteen to twenty, but many of them operated in small groups. 

As with everything in this world, every bit of good news had to come with at least one massive helping of bad news to go with it. In this case…

“Yeah, Malia and the other two were sent to the ass end of the outer hexes to sort out a traveling something or other,” The drunk man said. “Can yer believe that? I coulda done that job.”

“Is there anywhere specific that I can head for?” Wesley asked, gently nudging the man’s drink out of the way of his reaching hand. He couldn’t answer if he passed out.

“I dunno, ask Karl, ya dick,” The drunk grumbled and snatched his drink back. 

So Wes did. 

The news wasn’t great. 

Malia and her team were sent to the very outer hex, just inside the Great Wall that kept everyone away from the outer edge. To make matters worse, they were moving fast, chasing after something, but Karl didn’t know what. They had last checked in at an Outpost the day before but were due to leave within the hour if they kept to their reported schedule.

Wes banged his head on the reception desk while Karl grinned.

“One day, I’ll actually get to spend more than an hour or two in this place,” Wes sighed as he hoisted his gear onto his back.

“Here,” Karl said with a grin. “I’ll see you off.”

Once more Wesley was walking down the same corridor, yet again passing out of the Unnamed City with less than a few hours inside it. 

“Hey, Bernice,” Karl called, and the ever so attractive recruiter turned her beaming smile their way, “Look who’s off again.”

“What’s wrong with here?” Bernice joked. “You think we smell funny or something?”

“Not at all,” Wesley said. “Just got to try and catch a friend before she goes off into the wilds again.”

“Well, take this with you,” Bernice gestured, and several wrapped rations appeared in her hands. “Say, could you do me a favor?”

“Bernie, not now,” Karl sighed. 

“Oh, come on now,” Bernice shushed him. “It won’t cost him a thing.”

Wesley immediately tensed. If anyone ever tells you that something won’t cost you a thing… they’re about to try and rip you off.

“See,” Bernice looped her arm through his after handing him the rations. “I get a reward every time someone I recruited to the Guild reaches Iron rank.”

“And I just got promoted,” Wes said with a smile.

“Exactly,” Bernice grinned. “Now, if I could say… put you down as a bit of a no-hoper who I saw something in… say from a year ago or so?”

“Damn, Bernie, that’s cold,” Karl chuckled. “You really gotta say he was a no-hoper?”

“I’m guessing it comes with an extra bonus?” Wesley asked.

“You catch on quick,” Bernie nodded. “So, how about it?”

“Sure, why not?” Wesley shrugged. “How about a year back, and I was basically a copperless beggar, but you decided to give me a chance?” 

“Ooh,” Bernie trilled, “I like it.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and dashed off to go and forge some paperwork.

“Damn,” Karl laughed. “She sure got you. Now, everyone will think that shit was true in five minutes.” He shook his head. “No wonder she’s always rolling in gold.”

“Eh,” Wesley just waved it off. “It doesn’t matter much to me.” 

Of course, that was complete bullshit. Given Malia’s warning when he arrived here the first time, Wesley was willing to bet that little favor had just bought him a lot less attention in the future. 

Wesley waved goodbye to Karl and stepped into the portal, heading for a new zone and, hopefully, some new friends.