Runner
Camp for the Order of the Golden Warriors
The stunned silence was, ironically, deafening. After dropping that kind of news, Lieutenant SHITFACE stood there quietly. Letting us stew in disbelief, Runner realized. Her teeth ground together. What the fuck even was that number? Six thousand and something something gold pieces. GOLD? Runner had not seen that much money in her entire life. The closest thing was big transactions at her old man's business. Those were for expensive bulk transports. The kind meant to fill the cargo of an entire ship. And even then, it was nowhere near as expensive as this. WHAT IN THE HELLS?!
Before Runner could piece together which words of outrage and which specific foul words to scream at this prick, a different voice spoke up. "S-sir? W-w-with all due res-respect… w-we are charging these fo-folks? F-for a service they c-could not consent to?"
The leonin knight himself looked pale, perhaps the sheer magnitude of debt affecting someone not even affiliated with it. Runner did not understand why he looked so damn concerned. He was not the one with a SIX THOUSAND gold debt.
"We are entering tough times, Sir Mathens. I assure you, this was thought out thoroughly." Thought out? THOUGHT OUT? Runner felt her heart hammer in her chest. Is this some sort of sick joke?
"But sir… th-these folk are i-innocent victims. W-why would… why d-dump the w-weight of this on them? T-that does not seem r-right?"
Lieutenant Isomeren sighed and shook his head. "I am afraid, Sir Mathens, that I cannot fully agree with this decision either. It was a serious investment on the part of the Order to fund the full recovery of these people. It would have been far more economical for them to be left to the mercy of the gods. They did have a chance to recover naturally, all things considered…" He trailed off, leaving the obvious unspoken. The idea was that without their precious magic, they were unlikely to recover at all.
Sir Mathens was still not convinced. That did help earn him some favor with Runner. At first she thought he was a spineless idiot. Now, at least, he was a kind idiot with maybe a bit of spine. "But… h-how would anyone be ab-able to pay that back? I-I must insist t-that this is u-unreasonable-"
"Enough, Mathens." Lieutenant Isomeren's voice cut through the stammering leonin's complaints. "This call is out of my hands." At that, Sir Mathen's eyes went wide. Runner could practically see him biting his tongue to stop himself further. He tried, but it seems that he is near the bottom of this whole leadership ladder.
"Then whose, if I may I inquire, call is this to make?" Yule spoke, his voice measured and slow. Runner had not seen the mage mad yet, and it was an interesting sight. A strange sort of cold, cutting anger that was opposite to the blistering rage Runner felt burning on her face. Baz looked similar, his scarred face wrinkling up in fury. His jaw was clenched and brow furrowed. If looks could maim, then Lieutenant Isomeren would be bleeding out by now.
"A-and if this is an exception, why us? If it would have been easier to let us sit, why go through the trouble?" Selm's voice was shrill and quick, offsetting the two men's barely controlled tempers. She looked more panicked than anything, the same going for Inathia. The big coward looked ready to faint.
"Why the FUCK," Runner growled, "would we pay that shit. Eshah, you have to be joking!" She spat the words out. For a brief moment after waking up from her coma, Runner had felt an ounce of security. That feeling had just been ripped up, chewed on, spit out, stamped in the dirt, and then burned by a dragon. Suddenly she was back to feeling like she was on the run, surrounded by guards and with no way out of the dead end she had trapped herself in.
Amid a storm of questions, Lieutenant Isomeran was an island patiently waiting for the calm. As each of them asked their questions in their unique manners of rage and/or dismay, he simply wrote down a few more notes on his parchment. The look in his eyes was one of calm expectation. He expected them to be outraged. That patronizing asshole!
"Silence." A voice raspy from seldom use spoke out. Mivera's voice was not quiet. It was loud and filled with bass, simply from her size. She did not shout. She did not need to. The tone of her voice held no room for argument. The same deafening silence reared its head.
Lieutenant Isomeren nodded his head in gratefulness to Mivera. "I understand your outrage. You have been victims of a horrific attack and I cannot begin to imagine how terrible of an experience it must have been. However, I can assure you that this debt will not be the end of the world for you."
"Explain," Baz grunted, scowl not dissipating.
"The powers that be do not wish for your lives to be majorly disrupted. I understand that you likely have no way to pay for your debt out of pocket. The Order is more than happy to assist you in paying back the gold you owe via labor."
"Labor? I cannot see how simple labor will be able to pay off that amount of coin. By current standards, we will be working for you for years. How is that not 'majorly disruptive' to our lives?" Yule voiced.
Runner was not going to stick around for however many years it would take to pay back her fifth of the debt. No way. None. As soon as she got the chance, she would split. She was desperate for a cure for her curse, but she was not stupid. Sticking around here for years just so she could go back to doing her own thing would likely get her killed.
"Not standard labor. Mister Yule Velemure, you are a mage experienced in the school of evocation, correct?" Yule nodded. "Mister Baz, you are a cleric with experience in both battle and healing, correct?" Baz begrudgingly shrugged. "Then I am certain that with your talents combined, you will be able to hunt down varying beasts, monsters, and villains for bounties. Whether or not you can convince the rest of these folks to assist you in combat is up to you. I know not how capable they are in battle, but I am sure their skill sets will be valuable in this task, one way or another."
The fuck is he saying? I don't get it, Runner thought.
Selm echoed Runner's thought. "I do not understand. We will pay back that massive sum with… bounty hunting?"
"Correct. These forests and hills have become oversaturated by vicious entities. It has become quite dangerous for the average traveler and even more so for those living in the remote areas of Keldanis. Specifically, gnolls are the most abundant creature within a several-mile radius. All attempts at negotiation with them have been met with hostility. They seem to have lost their sense of reason, assuming they ever had one. Not only do they pose a threat to the people of Keldanis, but to her lands as well. These gnolls have been spoiling the local environment, causing untold destruction."
"Even still, there is no feasible way for us to pay the Order back simply by hunting gnolls," Yule pressed. "We would be working in increments of silver, not gold. It would take years still. I highly doubt there are enough gnolls to clear our names within a hundred miles, let alone nearby."
"You are correct. Typically, a gnoll warrior's bounty is measured in silver. Slaying one and getting proof is enough to earn a good meal around a warm fire and a drink. Slay three and you have a room for the night in addition to your nightly sustenance."
Runner's face twisted, her lips curling inward as he proved Yule's point correct. They would be there for years if this horned asshat had anything to say about it.
"But…?" Selm said, confused. Runner realized she was not speaking out against the unfairness of their situation. Rather, the dwarf was voicing the unspoken tail of what Lieutenant Isomeran was saying. He nodded towards her in acknowledgment.
"But the powers that be have given you all an increased ratio of reward. Gnoll bounties especially. A very, very, large ratio increase." He lets out a huff, almost looking frustrated by how significant the amount was.
"How much is the increase?" Selm asked, suddenly looking a bit more hopeful. She is not seriously thinking we are paying them back honestly… right?
"Ten times." That got everyone's attention. Baz blinked, shock evident on his face. Yule and Selm's jaws had dropped open, along with Runners. Inathia… was counting her claws. It might take her a minute.
Ten times? A bounty increase is typically no more than two, maybe three times, as far as Runner had ever heard. That was in special cases of longstanding bounties no one wanted or the requester needed something special done with the bounty. TEN TIMES? Absurd.
Runner was not the greatest at math, but that suddenly made paying off the debt much more feasible. Cut down from years to…
"...months," Baz spoke, giving Runner a look. A little freakish how he knew what she was thinking, but she is also not used to being around people who can read her as easily as Baz does. The man knew how to read most folks. Maybe that was why she already trusted him… he understood her. Kind of. "We ain't got months. Supplies will run out."
"We will provide you with lodging within this camp, general supplies as needed, and even some provisional arms and armaments. Sir Mathens here will be taking over as your reporting officer. Should you have any questions or needs to be met, you will speak to him about it. When you go out into the field, he will be with you to assist you as well as keep an accurate tally of your progress."
The leonin mentioned stiffened further, nodding quickly at his new assignment. Great. They would be seeing a lot more of each other.
"We are essentially indentured servants to the Order until our debt is cleared, then?" Yule pieced together, not looking any happier even after all this discussion. That reminded Runner of her own fury. They were no better than slaves at the hands of these fuckers. Sure, they now had an avenue towards freedom… but that is total bullshit!
"No, you are quite free to go. This debt does not accrue interest and can be paid off at any time to the Order." Isomeren clarified. Huh? But didn't he just say that we had to pay it? This had to be some sort of weird double-talk that nobles and skilled merchants use. They say one thing to mean another. "We are offering to help you pay it back here and now over several week's worth of work. Should you decide to pay it back your a different way, then you are free to leave and find other means of employment. This one, at least, offers you a modicum of control and a speedy rate of repayment."
"Eshah, this is hurting my head!" Runner complained, confused as all hells. Inathia mumbled agreement, looking positively lost.
"Essentially… we may stick around here to pay back what we… owe… in a quick fashion that they can monitor and influence. Or, we can pay it back slowly over several decades by going on with our normal lives." Yule explained although he looked a bit confused to Runner as well. It was as if something was missing. A certain question is still left unanswered.
"Why?" Selm asked. That was it, the prized question. Why? Why were they doing this? Why did they make an exception for them? Why put them into debt just to help them get out of it? Why go through all this hassle and bullshit? Why?
That drew a look of greater frustration out of the tiefling. His face screwed itself inwards as if he had just bit into a miyatchi or a lemon. It was Mivera who spoke next, however.
"Why indeed… why would the Lord Commander waste his time on you?" Her gaze returned to the group. It felt scalding, a heat comparable to a roaring blaze emanating from her golden eyes. Fuck that's scary. Runner could feel part of her squirm inside her gut, aching to be away from that look. Those eyes were searching her, certain they would find something inside that would explain who she was. Who she was and why she mattered.
"Mivera, I ask that you refrain from continuing. That is enough." Lieutenant Isomeren snapped, looking flustered over the warrior's questions. Runner made note of why as Mivera's gaze turned to the Lieutenant. The big lady had revealed just who was interested in them. It wasn't Lieutenant Isomeren, that was for sure. The guy likely saw them as a waste of resources. No… it had to be someone above him. Some person higher up on the chain of command. A lord? Is that what she had said? Lord Commander? Who was that? Selm would know.
Runner gave a glance towards the dwarf woman. Selm did not seem to catch that little tidbit. She was likely still reeling from Mivera's questions. Runner would have to squeeze the answers out of her later. If these people wanted Runner under their thumb so badly, then Runner would make sure she at least understood some part as to who and why.
"Regardless, you have been informed of the circumstances in which you find yourselves now a part of. My recommendation is that you diligently work as a team to pay off the total sum of your debt. This is a good opportunity to grow your skills on the battlefield while still having a safety net to fall back on. The choice is yours, of course." Lieutenant Isomeren turned to Sir Mathens. "Take them to their quarters. For tonight, let them rest and save any further talk for the future for tomorrow." He looked back to Runner and the group. "I am sure you will have a better grip on your situation come morning light. You are dismissed."
Sir Mathens saluted the two important individuals in the tent before turning to the group. "Cmon. I-I'll show y-you where w-we can set up you-your tent." He led the way out of the command tent, hurriedly ready to get them situated for the night. They followed, giving each other looks of uncertainty. This was all happening quite fast. There was no doubt in Runner's mind that each of them had very strong feelings about this whole shitshow.
As the tent flap fell behind her, Runner could swear she heard that deep and scratchy voice say "What in the world is he thinking?"