by Charles Dean
“Then, after they find out you’re being interrogated, they will complain that questioning a lawful soldier in such a fashion is monstrous and that you should be released immediately. At which point, lucky for you, I’m going to let you go. So take a deep breath and relax.” The soldier obviously didn’t even realize he had been holding his breath since the mention of breaking the first toe. When he did, he let it all out in one loud burst. “That’s right, you’re going to go free. So you can talk to me for a moment, right?”
". . ." Still nothing. Who ever said interrogations were easy?
“What about your daughter? What’s her name?” Panic struck the soldier’s eyes. “Do you want to talk to her?”
". . ."
“It’s okay. She wanted to talk to you, and who could ever resist such a cute kid? Guards! Bring in Annabel!” The King shouted while taking some small pleasure in the soldier’s unexpected shock. One might have thought he had just killed the girl from that expression. “How old is she again? 7?”
One of the Guards entered the room holding the hands of a young girl with dark hair matching the soldier’s and an awkward gap-toothed smile. “She really is cute, aren’t you, Annabel?”
Annabel, saw her father in chains and looked at the King confused. The King stood up and walked over to the girl. “Don’t worry, Annabel, your dad is just helping test some equipment for the Kingdom. He’s the strongest soldier, don’t you know? That’s why we have to use him. He’s making the world a better place. Aren’t you?”
“Yes. Annabel, just go home.”
“Oh, don’t worry. She’ll be home soon enough. She’s just waiting on her mother. Annabel, why don’t you wait in the other room while your dad finishes his work. We want him to be home in time for dinner, don’t we?”
“Yes . . .” she said as softly as a little kid might be able to speak. The situation was obviously unnerving for her. Damn this man for what he’s made me do. Damn him and those filthy swine. Oh well, here goes nothing. As soon as she left, the King stood up and walked over to the table of tools the Guards had brought in.
“Are we going to talk yet?” the King asked while picking up a rusted saw blade “Or do I have to bring your daughter back in here and give you . . . some incentive? But don’t worry. She won’t be alone. For every day you don’t talk I’ll bring someone down here and torture them until they die. Your daughter may be first, but your wife, your friends, your neighbors. I’ll keep going until every trace of every person you’ve ever met is ripped in the most horrendous fashion possible. I’ll even let you watch.”
“What do you want?” he spat more than spoke.
“What do I want? I want 1,035 families to have their husband and fathers come home. I want those 1,035 men to live long and happy lives and never see a day of battle again. What I’m going to settle for is you telling me who you work for, exactly what they wanted you to do, and for you to do everything just as I say.”
“The . . .” he hesitated, not taking his eyes off the tool that the King was playing with in his hands. “The Council paid me five year’s wages to run messages. I carried the messages of the battle plans to the Black-Wings and White-Horns so they would double their troops and be in place to catch the resistance.”
I knew it. Dogs like them should never be allowed to show their face in public. “Good. That wasn’t so hard to say. You see, now your daughter has a chance of living, doesn’t she? But you know we’re not done.”
“What else do you want? All I did was run the messages. I don’t know anything else.”
“What I want you to do next is pen out every detail you can remember while you wait here for your precious den of scoundrels to come rescue you in an attempt to save their own skins. Then, I want you to kill the man who hired you and return to me. He’s going to try to kill you anyways since I didn’t, so my telling you to do this is a favor in and of itself. Then, I want you to report back to me if you are still alive when all is said and done. If you do everything exactly as I have told you, your wife and kids will want for nothing and live happily with me at the castle.” The King smiled again, putting down the twisted, spiked tool and walking towards the exit. He didn’t have to wait for a reply; he knew the soldiers answer. He was just lucky the soldier didn’t know that he would never have hurt anyone no matter what the outcome had been. Control what they see and you can control what they believe is true. A lesson he had never had to use in an interrogation before.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” The soldier responded as the King walked out the door, unsuccessfully repressing the grit in his voice. The King knew the soldier was smart enough to realize the wife and kids living with him wasn’t a reward. It was a punishment. They were prisoners to guarantee his loyalty. Damn these men for making me even utter these threats.
Robert:
Gravel crunched under the tires of Robert’s car as he turned his car into the driveway that led up to his home. It wasn't much in the way of houses, but it was more than enough for him and his daughter. His salary as one of the leading programmers at a major game company kept them both extremely comfortable, but he had never been one of the types of people that believed in opulence just for the sake of it. Sitting up on a slight hill, the two-story house was one that was mistakable for any other in the hundreds of similar subdivisions throughout the country. The well-manicured lawn and neat rows of nicely-trimmed hedges blended in with the house next to his, and the one next to that, and so on.
Bringing the car to a stop and turning off the ignition Robert grabbed his travel mug from the center compartment and stepped out of the car, reached into the back seat, and slung his laptop case over his shoulder. These late nights are gonna kill me, he thought as he walked up the path that lead to the front door. Behind him, the sun was just beginning to peak over tops of the houses across the street and provided a momentary illusion of warmth as the day began to heat up. "Not bloody likely. Spring is months off and it’s cold as a witch's tit," he silently grouched.
Walking through the house and into the kitchen, Robert dropped his computer case in a chair next to the kitchen table and hung his keys up on the hook right above his daughter’s. He rubbed his weary eyes and started across the room to make a fresh pot of coffee, picking up a bowl crusted with what appeared to be leftover ramen from the table and dropping it into the dishwasher. He had gotten used to living alone while his daughter was away at college, but now that she had graduated and was home again, he found himself getting slightly annoyed at having to pick up after her.
Walking over to the staircase he shouted, "Kass, you awake yet?" When he didn't hear any response he started up the stairs and was halfway up before realizing that he could hear the sound of the shower running and the small radio she kept in the bathroom burbling some annoyingly upbeat pop tune that was mercifully muffled through the door. Turning back and going down into the kitchen, Robert poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot that wasn't even nearly finished brewing yet and pulled his laptop out. He usually spent a little time reading through the mechanics and feedback forums on the game's website before crashing out for a few precious hours and heading back to work. His bosses usually understood when he was up all night working and would allow him to come in for a half day of work after pulling an all-nighter so he knew he didn't have to be in before noon. He really didn't expect to find very many bug reports. Since implementing the new AI, the flow of bug fixes had dwindled off to almost nothing. Generally, it was just someone complaining about accidentally losing an item that was really in their backpack or equipped all along. As hard as he sometimes found it to believe, the new programming was running flawlessly.
He had slouched back in the chair and was sipping on his coffee when he heard the shower shut off and the door to the bathroom open momentarily, emitting a loud blast of music before it was shut off and and followed by the sound of his daughter starting down the stairs.
"Oh, hey, Dad, morning. You actually made it home before lunch today, huh?" she
teased in greeting as she pulled a cup from the cabinet and began making herself a cup of coffee. "Late night again?"
"Yeah," he said as he looked up from reading an unusual post from someone complaining about being killed after having a soup spoon thrown into their eye. "Ever since I put in the new AI, it really isn't necessary for me to be at the office till all hours, but I somehow manage to find something that seems to take forever to fix anyway. Looks like you had a late night as well, huh?" he said, noticing the slightly dark circles under his daughter's eyes.
"Haha, yeah, I guess so," she laughed in reply, knowing she was being called out. "I was up most of the night trying to kill this group of minotaurs in the game. You've seriously got to change the aggro range on those things, Dad. They want to chase you forever."
Robert just shrugged in reply as he took another sip of his coffee. "They're minotaurs. They're supposed to chase you forever; otherwise, it would be too easy. You can't just expect to walk up to an angry, two-legged bull with a giant battle axe and expect to milk it, can you?"
"Milk a bull, Dad? Eww . . ." Kass laughed back in response.
"Hey, have you noticed anything in-game worth reporting lately? The feedback at this point is so good it's almost too much to believe. I can't believe how well the AI paired up with the pre-existing architecture. There's almost nothing noteworthy bug-wise at this point."
"Not really. Everything's been running super smooth lately. I was in-game all night and I didn't even lag once. I'm so glad. I don't think I could handle getting the spins again. It was almost as bad as a night out drinking. I remember this one time when I came back from the bar with this guy--"
"Seriously, kiddo?" Robert interjected. “Telling your old man about nights out on the town when you were in college?" He just shook his head to cut her off.
"Alright alright. I guess you don't need to know the details, but you get the point."
"Yeah, and some things a father should never have to hear. Even if his daughter is grown up now with a college degree. Shouldn't you be spending a little more time looking for a job instead of playing in a virtual world, anyway? And how did I manage to pay a hundred thousand dollars for a college education and them never teach you how to do dishes?"
"You didn't pay anything for my tuition, Dad" she shot back. "I was on a full ride, and you know it. And I did very well, thankyouverymuch," she said matter of factly.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. I'm gonna try to get a little sleep before heading back in," Robert sighed as he stood up closing his laptop and rubbing his eyes again.
"Okay, Dad. Sleep well. By the way, when did you guys decide to put bathrobes into the game instead of starting armor for warriors? That was pretty funny."
Robert looked up over the hand that was rubbing his eyes. "Bathrobes . . . ?"
"Yeah. I came across this guy last night wearing a bathrobe. It said he was only Level 5 and didn't even have armor. But he still managed to kill those minotaurs I was telling you about like it was nothing. It must have had a +5 Bull's Eye stat because he sure made it look easy."
"Bathrobe?" he repeated, still not quite understanding.
"Yeah. Bathrobe. Like the one I'm wearing," she said waving her hand down towards her fluffy pink robe.
"Bathrobe."
"Yes, Dad. A bathrobe. And I think he was carrying a spoon with him as a weapon. You guys at the office really do have a sense of humor, huh?"
"Bathrobe. And a spoon." Robert blinked twice and stared, his mind foggy with lack of sleep and not quite able to grasp the concept. "Can't tell if trolling . . . ?"
"Nope. Seriously cool idea, Dad. I laughed so hard."
"Bathrobe. Spoon." Robert sighed as he turned and grabbed his keys off the hook and, instead of heading up to his room for some much needed sleep, began walking back towards the front door and the office again.
Chapter 2: Town Trip!
Maddock:
There was no warning before the attack came. The Scouts had grown complacent in their job. Overconfidence and the belief in the safety of numbers had lulled them into only occasionally bothering to do the one and only task assigned to them--making sure that no one was around who wasn't supposed to be. Securing the safety of everyone and providing an early warning of any impending attack that would threaten their efforts was, arguably, the most important task assigned to any of them that day. Unless, of course, one considered that it was also their primary defense for protecting their hard-won loot--what precious little of it there was to go around.
Most members of the group were far too low in level to justify even attempting the camp alone; but, they had begun their day with high hopes and in good spirits, eager to gain some desperately needed experience and advance themselves in the world. The Midwinter Festival had just passed and many members of the party still sported brightly colored hats of various odd shapes and sizes they had received as gifts during the holiday. Jovial spirits and all, the band had collected themselves and set out at first light hoping to make a day of it adventuring. The day had started clear and bright, and making progress into the mountains had been fast and easy. Snows during this time of the season were expected to restrict most from traveling too far into the north, but the weather so far had been unreasonably amiable. Paths farther into the mountains were often narrow and treacherous, covered with debris and fallen trees, but the one the group followed upward was well-worn and often used by other travelers.
The small band had been struggling for hours to dispatch the large brutish Ogres that inhabited a small frozen cavern on the outskirts of the northern reaches. It was slow tedious work with few rewards. Because of their nature, the brutes carried very little gold upon their person, and the only real rewards were the large Mauls they carried as weapons. Although they were far too large and heavy to be of any real use to anyone present, the crude weapons would fetch a decent price when they were hauled back to town and sold for coin to the merchants there. The metal and wood weapons were barely worth more than the scrap and petrified lumbar they were used for, but the materials could be salvaged and repurposed for other tasks. Fence posts and nails perhaps. It seemed ironic when one could imagine that's probably where many of them had been taken from prior to being fashioned into the rough weapons they were being used as now. Regardless, they would fetch a decent price, and the group desperately needed the resources to justify the time and effort they had invested into farming the camp.
The beasts were slow, but they had a massive reach and hit like a truck. Typically, if lucky, newer players such as themselves would be able to party up with some stronger adventurers and hope to leech a few levels before attempting the feat on their own. The party as it was, however, was struggling under the task. They had all approached the large caverns just west of where they were now and had unanimously been turned away finding a much higher-leveled group from their town already there farming. Everyone was desperate for resources. The campaign against the White-Horns and Black-Wings had been going badly and everyone was pressed to contribute as many resources as possible. The men there had promised to include them later on if the opportunity became available, but the smaller band had no desire to wait and were itching to make some progress.
As a result, they now found themselves frantically scrambling to avoid the sluggish swipes of the Ogre’s Maul. Even though the attacks were slow, their massive reach made it impossible to completely avoid being hit. And it hurt. A lot. The brutes may have been strong, but they were also equally as stupid. They trickled out of the camp one by one allowing the party to pull them out of position and prevent the other Ogres from drawing aggro. The lead tank, in a battered suit of Studded Leather Armor that had surely seen better days, labored under the blows struggling to deflect them while the other members worked on attacking the beast from behind. Unable to manage any of the fancier and better-crafted weapons available at the local merchants in town, the process took time. Their dull blades and short Swords barely seemed to knick the thick hide of the monste
r as they hacked away at its flanks. The mage, who had long since given up even trying to cast his inefficient spells, simply stood off to the side of the clearing staring blankly, sometimes throwing a random fireball upwards into the air to watch it fizzle and disappear.
The Ogre before them fell to the ground with a great 'harumpf,' finally giving up the fight and rewarding them with the chance to loot the meager items from its corpse.
"Are you kidding me? We've been out here for hours and these things are taking forever to kill," the mage sighed.
"It's hard to kill something when all you can be bothered to do is attack the clouds," the rogue cut in, clearly not ready to hear it.
"Yeah, man, seriously," the tank replied, wiping the sweat from his brow, "I can't believe the drop rate on these things. You'd think by now we would have at least seen a few rare item drops or something. But there's never anything here but a few silver pieces and another crummy Maul to sell back in town."
"Well, at least we should be able to make some profit once we sell those. Every little bit counts when you're starting out, right?" The mage sounded hopeful.
"Yeah, and when you're trying to wage a war at the same time," the rogue snidely remarked.
"I can't believe how much gold the King decided to sink into NPC fighters during that last battle. I heard it was over two thousand pieces. It could have been used to build up the town but instead he just threw it away," the tank lamented, flopping to the ground in a great huff.
"Awh, man, where'd you hear that? Have you been listening to gossip down in town from those bar Whores again? They'll say anything to get you to open up your own purse."