Otherlife Nightmares: The Selfless Hero Trilogy

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Otherlife Nightmares: The Selfless Hero Trilogy Page 12

by William D. Arand


  “Did you meet with Lady Brunhild?”

  “Yes. I’ve also met with, and acquired the aid of, Ernsta.”

  “I see. You’ve forsaken us for a pair of goddesses then?”

  “Hardly. I want a trio. Rike is next.”

  Thana’s fingers pinched his side and twisted.

  “Ow, for fu-ugh. No, Thana, I’m not replacing anyone. I admit I feel mildly dirty for the actions I took to get their assistance. Thankfully it took little more than honest flattery, but I’m not interested in them. I have enough problems between the four of you. I’d rather not add three more.”

  “You could always join them, leave mortality behind.”

  “Hmph,” grumped Runner. A shrug of his shoulder and he extricated his arm from under Thana. Then he stupidly wrapped it around her. “I’m already immortal. Besides, call me hypocritical, since it is, I wouldn’t want to share them with their followers.”

  Thana said nothing more. And sleep took Runner before he could think of anything else to say.

  6:00am Sovereign Earth time

  11/10/43

  Runner was awakened for a planning meeting before dawn. He managed to untangle himself from Thana and depart without waking her or the others. There would be a ticking time bomb waiting for him on his return, he was sure.

  A reprieve only. He knew there would be a reckoning. So he welcomed the planning meeting. Distractions were few and far between lately.

  He was escorted to an enormous tent that held a large circular table, on which sat a map of the surrounding lands. Breakfast was along the side tables.

  Filling out the tent entirely was a host of noble ladies, commanders, and knights. They spent some time telling him their names, but he didn’t remember a one. Names didn’t matter.

  Breakfast mattered. The scent called out to him, demanded his attention even.

  It smelled heavenly.

  While he filled up with sausages that were ranked “perfect” on quality, they nattered on about titles and accomplishments. Rather than interrupt their self-congratulations, he ate.

  Upon finishing said breakfast, Runner clapped his hands together. Conversation died away, and all turned to him.

  “First things first. All you lovely noble ladies. I’m afraid you’re auditioning for the wrong part. All the principal roles have already been filled and even the extras have been cast. If your intention was me, sorry to disappoint,” Runner apologized with a flip of a negligent hand.

  Their desires openly exposed—exposed and then completely doused—the women stared at him with cold painted faces.

  Runner paid them no mind and stood. He tapped a spot on the map. It was located ahead of the army and the listing had it named as “Highpass Crossing.”

  “This Highpass Crossing. We’ll be heading there. I know it’s full of bandits. It’s just what we need. It’ll only cost us a day to crush it. It’ll also give everyone a chance to give me an idea of their capabilities. Perhaps you’ll even change my mind on what to do with you all,” he muttered, almost to himself.

  His plans at this time left a mildly bitter flavor in his mouth. Awakening them, from the noble ladies down to the teamsters, felt like the only valid solution to get them where he wanted them.

  He had taken the liberty of checking the Wiki on Highpass Crossing while eating his breakfast, so his plans were already in motion.

  Not only was it an open dungeon, it had been listed as a raid dungeon. A truly fortuitous chance for him to test out his new soldiers.

  “So! I need—”

  The tent flap flared open and admitted five newcomers.

  Lining up before him were a Centaur, Goblin, Elf, Orc, and Beastman. They ranged in level from thirteen to nineteen. Not caring one whit for them individually, he looked for the leader amongst them.

  Interesting.

  “My name is Isabelle. This is my mercenary band,” said the Elf as she stepped forward, almost as if in response to his eyes searching through those arrayed before him.

  Standing about five foot nine, she had the lissome build that people were so fond of for elves. Pale blonde hair left long and green eyes finished the cliche. Elegant features carved from wasted fantasies gave her a wistful beauty. No one could deny that she was attractive. Runner dismissed her looks from his mind violently.

  “Right then. You’re hired. Specialty?”

  Isabelle looked surprised. Apparently her expectation was not to be hired up front.

  “Ah, frontline combat, my lord…?” inquired the beautiful Elf.

  Scoffing with a smirk, he shook his head.

  “No lord here, Isabelle. Runner, Runner Norwood.” Casting an eye over the group, he could definitely see potential as a blitzkrieg force.

  “Good timing. Come stand next to me, Isabelle. Your cadre can wait outside for the moment. We’ll discuss the details and your contract after this meeting as well as options. Now,” he said, turning his attention to the table once more, “I’d like a demonstration of the abilities of this army. To do this, please put together ten groups of five people each. Each must be a self-contained unit that best shows off what you’re capable of as a combined force.”

  Setting his left hand on Isabelle’s shoulder, he held up his right hand. Four of the fingers came up on his right hand.

  “I expect you to be able to fight a group of four monsters at the same time. Please send out scouts to find suitable groups. This needs to be done by noon so we have time to plan.”

  Isabelle squirmed under the weight of his hand. Everyone else in the room stared at him like he had lost his mind.

  “You’re dismissed. Please make several messengers ready for me and a scribe,” he commanded. Flicking his fingers at them, he waited.

  Eventually the tent emptied, leaving him alone with the mercenary captain.

  Sitting back in his chair, he released Isabelle and gestured to the chair opposite him.

  “My services are for sale, I am not,” Isabelle said, refusing to take the seat.

  “Hm? And? I wasn’t aware I asked you to warm my bed. You certainly rock the sexy Elf angle, but I don’t care. Sit or be gone. Your choice, just be swift about it.” Runner raised his eyebrows at the Elf. Time was wasting. “Things to do. I might actually get to design plans for building a fort in the next few weeks, and those things don’t just design themselves, ya know.”

  Isabelle hesitated a moment longer before taking a seat.

  “Fan-fucking-tastic. Thank you. Price?”

  “A gold per quarter.”

  “First. How did an Elf end up here? You’re rather far from home. Wrong continent entirely according to the Wiki. Let alone your band of merry men.”

  Wrinkling her nose, Isabelle looked like she’d bitten into a rotten apple.

  “Wiki? I’m unsure of that term. As far as my reasons for being here”—she hesitated a moment—“I killed someone. They were guilty of a crime and deemed innocent because of their connections. I ended the problem. Hypocritically, I was banished by those who had opposed the innocence of the man instead of executed.”

  “Got it. Chaotic good, possibly neutral. That puts you somewhere between Rabbit and Kitten. Have fun with that,” Runner said, accessing his inventory.

  “Rabbit and Kitten? Who are—”

  “You’re on retainer for a decade,” Runner interrupted her and negligently threw forty gold coins into the woman’s lap.

  Coins spilled from her hands as she tried to grab them all. Thudding heavily in the grass, they lay where they fell.

  “Welcome aboard. I don’t care where you go, what you do, or even how you do it, but you’ll obey every order I give you.”

  Glancing up at the tent roof, he cleared his throat.

  “Lady Brunhild, Lady Ernsta, I offer these terms to Isabelle under your watch. I will honor the conditions given to me, which are honor their lives, do not place them in a suicidal situation, respect their persons, and respect their possessions. They own anything they discover on
a corpse that is available to them as loot and will be granted the ability to draw on funds from myself as a loan should the need arise.”

  In unison two voices sounded from above.

  “Witnessed.”

  “In return I expect the following of you, Isabelle. You will replace any members you lose with fresh recruits, you will obey any order given to you provided that it is reasonable or achievable, you will not act in a way that is perceived to be disreputable, and no crime shall be committed by you or those you oversee. You are responsible for your own upkeep, equipment, maintenance, and your own room and board. Should a violation occur, Ernsta and Brunhild will render a neutral judgment on recompense. Depending on the severity of the situation, you may become forfeit personally, Isabelle. Questions?”

  Isabelle had been collecting the coins from the ground. Her eyes were now fixed on the air above them, staring at the spot the two goddesses had responded from.

  The sum she had requested was outrageous for the actual levels of her party. The fact that he’d paid it, and for a decade, was more so.

  Ernsta and Brunhild responding to him directly, personally even, would only further shake the poor woman.

  The possibility that he had already Awakened her with the contract existed.

  Isabelle began to shake her head slowly, her eyes moving down to meet his own.

  “Is that a no, no questions, or no, no deal?”

  “No questions.”

  “Then you accept the deal as it stands?”

  “If I tried to decline it, they’d leave.”

  “You need to actually agree. Need official sanction or it won’t be binding.”

  Isabelle paused to glance up at where the voices had spoken from before responding.

  “Yes, I accept.”

  “Witnessed.”

  “Good. Your first order is thus. Answer me, when was the last time you went to the bathroom? When was the last time you saw a bathroom? As you ponder that question, go ask your men the same. Run along now, things to do. People to kill. Please send in the messengers as well,” Runner said to her, making shooing motions with his hands. Setting his elbow down on the arm of the chair, he rested his chin in his palm.

  Break their programming, level them up, solid secondary force at my disposal. Now I need more.

  Several messengers and the scribe trooped in after the shaken Isabelle left. Runner moved his eyes from one messenger to the next before resting them on the scribe.

  “I need two drafts written, then posted in every inn of Tirtius and Vix. Then sent across to the mainland to the south for the same. Costs are to be charged to my account from whatever the king is paying me for leading his armies. I’m sure a leading general has a salary.”

  All eyes around the room got larger as they took that in. Runner smiled and spread his hands.

  “Do not worry, my messages are simple. There are two concepts: I’m hiring mercenaries, and I’m welcoming immigrants from all races, breeds, or creeds.” Runner paused, letting them catch up. “Mercenaries are to seek me out directly. I will either be in Vix or here on Tirtius. There is no guarantee of employment as I have rules and regulations similar to that of a military. Immigrants are to proceed to North Wood Fort, on Vix. Land is available for purchase at incredible low, low prices during reconstruction. Crazy Runner’s land emporium must sell everything and everything must be sold. Now go.”

  Runner leaned back into the chair as he considered his recent decisions. They were all calculated things, designed to enhance and build his power base.

  He felt like it was getting further from his control with every action. Soon he would be flinging soldiers into danger for the sake of consolidating his power over the Sunless and Barbarian kingdoms.

  Isn’t that what dictators do?

  Chapter 7 - Dark Descent -

  7:27am Sovereign Earth time

  11/10/43

  Runner left the tent after he had confirmed the map one more time. His own map now had several more personal notations. One did not pass up intelligence gathering if it was available.

  The sun sat low in the eastern sky, doing its best to stab him in the eyes. Frowning, he took a quick sit-rep of everything around him.

  Isabelle stood with her band perhaps thirty feet from him. They all looked a little unsure of themselves. He wasn’t a betting man, but it looked like they were experiencing the aftereffects of becoming Awakened.

  Dismissing them as unimportant for the moment, Runner trooped his way to the lead elements of the column. Hopefully they would be on the move soon.

  Waiting sucked.

  Runner.

  “What’s up, Srit?” Runner asked, his feet carrying him to where the carriages were being loaded up. The dots for his party members were there, which meant that was where he needed to be.

  What do you plan to do with Ted?

  “Nothing. He’s dead. Remember?” he grumped. He didn’t need a daily reminder of Ted.

  No, he lives. We recovered him. His brain activity is zero, yet his body lives.

  “Nothing. I plan on doing nothing. His body has been disengaged from the pod, the medical server is destroyed, and there is no way to reinsert him even if he had a brain that wasn’t an empty swimming pool. Why?”

  His suspicion had been raised. It meant they were actively monitoring the pods. Even before Srit had established full communications.

  Are there no burial rites for your people?

  Ah. There it is. They want his body.

  “Srit, I’d like to offer you Ted’s living, yet dead, body. Please consider it a token of my appreciation to you personally. I hope that we can continue working closely together.”

  Am I so transparent?

  “Only because I love you, Srit. If there’s anything else…?”

  Nothing to re—nope.

  “Fantastic. Good response,” he concluded. Stepping up to the carriage window, he peered in. Everyone was already seated. The only open seat was between Katarina and Thana today.

  All eyes turned to him, and the conversation they were having went dead. Quirking a brow, he grinned at them.

  Inside of him, though, his heart quailed. Such a response to his arrival could only mean the end. Either of him or this lifestyle he had come to enjoy so much.

  “In or out, fuckstick. And wipe that shitty grin off your face. You look like a jackass.”

  “Come on-n-n then.” Nadine popped open the door. Runner was made to step aside to let it swing free. Sparing a glance for each woman, he clambered inside. Sitting between Katarina and Thana, he felt hard-pressed for space. His arms were nearly looped into theirs.

  At least Katarina isn’t wearing her armor.

  “Where’d you get off to this morning? Did you forget you don’t need to shit anymore? Go scurrying off looking for a toilet?”

  “Ha, that would’ve been easier, Hanners. No, planning meeting. I let our dear noble companions know that I wasn’t on the market so they could end their little plots and plans, told them to put together a demonstration for me, hired a mercenary captain by the name of Isabelle, and told them we’ll be attacking Highpass Crossing. The usual.”

  Katarina nodded firmly. Clearly it met her approval.

  “Valid choices, all around. Though I wonder, a mercenary captain?”

  “She’s got a band of front liners. I bought them completely. Should they fail the contract she could become a slave. Good times. Maybe I’ll make her warm Hanners’ bed if it happens. She’s also required to fill any gaps in her group. I figure I break her, level them up, use them as a tool.”

  “Cold of you, Run-ner.”

  “Life is cold. I’m giving them better odds than many would.”

  “That’s n-not right, Runner. You’re n-not acting like yourself.”

  “Myself? Apparently myself is the one who kicked off this whole thing. Myself is the one that has placed four hundred and ninety-nine thousand soldiers into a situation where it’s likely they’ll end up in a zoo.
Myself is the same person who is the only officer of any rank with the skills or ability to get them off. Myself is the one they blame and detest more than anyone else.” Runner took a breath. The stress of the last few days was overwhelming him. There were so many problems, so many issues. And he had to solve them all. Every single one.

  “Myself is the one trying to work out a deal with the divine to protect those I love. Myself is the one who is desperately trying to hammer out any sort of agreement with an emergent AI overlord comparative to some of the worst doomsday scenarios my people could write. Myself is the one thing that I have any control over, except to dance to everyone else’s tune. Gods damn me but myse—”

  Runner felt like he had been suddenly struck mute and paralyzed. His HUD flashed white.

  Brunhild or Ernsta had smashed him with a deity-level curse. Unable to keep himself upright, he gradually slumped over and fell into Katarina.

  “Take care of him,” Brunhild said from thin air. “He pushes himself too hard. We need him.”

  Katarina’s arm wrapped around him tightly and pulled him in close. His head dipped into her shoulder where it met the top of her chest. There his head remained. Pillowed on her and his body cradled against her side.

  She lightly patted the top of his head with her left hand. Then her fingers began to smooth his hair backwards and rub lightly at his temples and crown. Her right hand remained pressed to his shoulder, keeping him tucked in close.

  Runner could only stare at Hannah across the aisle. Her eyes were wide, watching him as if he had lost his mind.

  When it happened, he had coiled up mentally, barricading himself emotionally from Katarina’s careful fingers and care.

  After a moment of reflection, he gave in. It’d serve no purpose and would only make the situation worse. Instead, he closed his eyes and let Katarina do as she willed. Besides, it did feel great.

 

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