Some Sort of Glitch

by Wade Adrian

  Somehow he didn't think a partial victory would cut it with Brynjar, and at the moment Tom actually sort of kinda felt like he owed him.

  Tom looked around at all the soldiers... "You know, I kinda like this."

  Max's horse was beside Tom's. "This? This what?"

  "All of this. It's cool."

  "I guess? I have a hard time getting past the part where any misstep here could end up meaning we're brain-dead vegetables. Kind of a downer."

  "Sure, sure. But look." He pointed at his horse. "You know what these things cost? And they just gave them to us. Amazing. This gear, too. This stuff is pretty damned good. Used to be a quest would give you one piece of gear, tops. Usually just pocket change."

  "Still got the whole life on the line problem."

  "Bah. Don't be so negative. That's what they're for." He hooked a thumb at the soldiers.

  Max rolled his eyes. "I'm sure statements like that are great for morale."

  Tom dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "The place we're heading is going to be trouble."

  "They all are. These people consider them unassailable."

  "That's because they lack ingenuity."

  "And yet, if we hadn't made our way through that fort we wouldn't be in this mess."

  "Mess?" Tom scoffed. "I've got a horse. They said I can keep it. Today is great."

  "I find it odd how quickly you forget that last night you slept in a cell."

  "Pfft. Water under the bridge. You've got to learn to go with the flow." Tom snapped a few times, his hand high over his head. "Yo, Einar."

  The young man was riding ahead of them. He looked back... and didn't exactly look happy, but he slowed his mount until theirs caught up. "Yes?"

  "What's up with this fort we're going to?"

  Einar looked over the map Tom had pilfered. "The Ladder? A road built on a dry riverbed runs between two high peaks. Forts were built atop the peaks with a stone bridge between. It allows the defenders to drop stones and oil on attackers. The bridge is not but a few stones and murder holes."

  Tom tugged on his beard. That sounded bad.

  Max scoffed. "Okay, so lets avoid going under it. How do we get to the peaks?"

  Einar pointed at the map. "The paths leading up are directly under the bridge, on either side. Last anyone knows, they had blocked off one of the paths up, so they only have one side to defend. And the murder holes to help with that."

  Max rubbed at the back of his neck. "Super."

  They got close enough to see the place before night fell. The soldiers made camp on the far side of a small hill to hide their fires. Sentries waited atop the hill, watching for movement from the fort.

  Though they lacked a wagon, they did have a few tents and folding chairs. The "command" tent was really just a normal tent with a lot of the chairs.

  The map was unfolded on one in the center, while Tom and Einar looked over it.

  Max stood by the entrance. "I don't like it."

  Tom shrugged. "We'll figure something out. The scouts will let us know if we can climb anywhere else."

  Einar shook his head. "Doubtful. It's nearly sheer rock with sharp points. Even if you got a good start, a fall would mean being shredded on the way down."

  "Okay, Debbie Downer, what's your plan?"

  "I don't have one." The boy shrugged. "But I won't tell my people to climb what can't be climbed."

  Tom narrowed his eyes at the kid. "Boy, you are here to dance and be seen. You don't get to make those decisions. If you guys could have done this without us, we wouldn't be here."

  Apparently the kid got cranky when he missed his nap. He'd been getting more and more whiny the further they got from home.

  If Tom could trust the kid to not run off, he wouldn't be in the command tent. He certainly didn't deserve to be.

  Max held up a hand. "Calm down. We're all friends here."

  Tom scoffed.

  Einar's shoulders slumped.

  Max's strategy seemed to involve being nice to the kid. It would probably be a better way to get close and stab him. Too bad it was so damned irritating in the meantime.

  Morale would probably tank if he died early on. Everyone else would be afraid of Brynjar's wrath.

  One of the lightly armored types stopped just outside the tent. He was out of breath.

  "Report." Max held the flap open.

  The young man shook his head. "Sheer rock, all the way around. If we had tools to climb it, maybe, but..." He shook his head.

  "How much farther from the top?"

  "Twenty feet or so."

  Max nodded. "Good work. Get some food and rest up."

  The scout saluted, a fist over his heart, and wandered away as Max closed the tent again.

  "So... guess I'll handle it."

  Tom leaned back in his camp chair. More of a stool, really. He almost fell over. "You? Just you?"

  Max shrugged. "Maybe not just me. I'll need the best lightly armored people we've got."

  "And you're going to... walk up the ramp and knock on the door?"

  "No. We're going to sneak up the ramp and climb the extra twenty feet or so to the murder holes. That's worked stone that will have some hand holds, hopefully. We'll pry a murder hole open and get in that way."

  Einar tilted his head at the map. "If they don't think they're under assault... they won't be manning them. It's possible they wont be nearby."

  "Once we're in, we'll unlock the gate, open the rest of the murder holes, and dump out anything they might try to throw down. Once things stop falling that's the cue for everyone else to charge up the ramp and do the heavy lifting."

  Tom tugged on his beard. "That sounds... reckless. What if you can't get in?"

  "Then we come back down. I'm saying we do this tonight. Soon. Once it's dark enough. The longer we sit here the more chance they have to prepare. So far? They might not know anyone is coming."

  "Okay, but lets say it works, and you get in. If you start throwing down rocks they're going to notice. It's going to get loud."

  Max nodded. "We'll have to hold the bridge until the work is done."

  "Throwing boulders around." Tom scoffed. "Heavy work for our skinniest troops."

  "If you've got a better plan, I'm all ears."

  Tom let out a slow breath through his nose as he leaned over the map.

  He had nothing.

  "It's crazy." He nodded a few times. The kind of assault an NPC would never expect. "I like it."

  Max narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the wall of stone between him and the murder holes. "Whose bright idea was this?"

  "Yours, sir." Eira smirked. "We've got this. Don't worry so much."

  Easy for her to say. She wasn't one slip up from being a vegetable.

  Of course... he had no idea what happened to NPCs that died now. They probably didn't just respawn anymore.

  Getting to the top of the ramp had been simple. He, Eira, and the other five scouts could all sneak just fine.

  Now came the fun part.

  He lacked climbing gear aside from a rope he tied around his waist, but... he had a decent knife collection Brynjar's people had been kind enough to return. He carefully wrapped a strip of cloth around a dagger's blade and guard before he slipped it in between two stones. The cloth let it fill the space and gave it some grip, rather than simply sliding back out.

  The game seemed to understand what he was doing, or it was really confused because it labeled each dagger as a "crude piton" when they were stuck in the wall.

  Max repeated the process up higher before carefully grabbing the highest one and planting a foot on the lower one as close to the wall as possible.

  Eira kept a hold on his left hand as he leaned out, shifting his weight off the ground...

  The dagger under his foot creaked a bit, but it held.

  He let out a breath.

  So did Eira. She was tied to him, after all.

  "Okay. One at a time."

  Eira nodded. "Don't fall."


  "Is that an order?"

  "Yes?"

  "It's a good one."

  He couldn't hold on and wrap daggers in cloth, so he handed down extras from his inventory, as well as two kitchen knives, and Eira handed them back ready to go.

  The last two were picky about how they fit and scraped a bit... but he got it done. The spacing wasn't even, and nowhere near ideal, but it would do.

  He carefully turned to reach out for the murder hole. It just looked like a wooden trap door from here, nothing special. Well, aside from being about five stories above the ground. The ones closer to the middle where even further from the ground.

  It took some pressure, but it shifted upward slightly.

  Unfortunately it stopped.

  He'd been hoping they didn't bother to latch them... but really, why wouldn't they?

  Eira was just below him. She whispered up, barely audible. "It should be a simple latch. Get a blade in and you might be able to slide it open."

  Might.

  Awesome.

  He had to shift his weight back to the wall to pull one of his real daggers, the ones he actually planned to use, as opposed to the... mementos.

  A gust of wind had him holding on tight... and trying not to look down.

  No pressure.

  He leaned out again, dagger in hand. It was simple enough to get it flat against the wood, but the pressure he needed to lift the door was difficult to impart while holding the knife.

  Unfortunately his other hand was busy keeping him from tumbling to his death.

  He mumbled and grumbled as he tried to push the door up and get the knife in.

  Max leaned out a bit further... he needed more leverage.

  The knife popped through.

  He let out a sigh of relief... and noticed he was leaning very far out. When he looked down he found Eira holding up a hand, helping to balance his outstretched foot.

  Well, he couldn't have that for long. He slipped the knife back and forth. It made annoying scraping noises he hoped no one else heard until there was finally a click followed by a metallic "ting" sound.

  He shoved the dagger up and through entirely before pushing on the trap door.

  It was still just as heavy but it didn't catch anymore.

  He took a deep breath and shoved as hard as he could with one arm. The weight of the door kept it from opening swiftly, which kept the noise to a minimum. It also seemed to have some sort of chain that kept it from opening all the way.

  Good enough.

  He gave a thumbs up to the climbers below.

  This... was the part he had been dreading. Getting far enough to climb up meant getting too far from the wall to rely on his dagger handholds.

  Just the one chance, then. And he was going to drag half a dozen people down with him if he messed up...

  No. He didn't need to be thinking like that.

  It had worked so far.

  He had this.

  Max leaned forward, reaching up and over with one hand. He felt a cold metal lip around the door. He swung his other hand and latched on before hoisting himself up.

  In the real world he had no such ability. This was some advanced athlete nonsense right here, but he did it.

  He did it in armor.

  Not heavy armor, but armor.

  Open arrow slots in the hallway between the towers let in plenty of light for him to see. Place was empty. Heavy wooden doors were shut on both ends.

  Problem for later.

  He moved away from the hatch, looping the rope tied around him around the door itself. It wasn't going anywhere. A better anchor than him.

  "Come on, coast is clear." He whispered down the murder hole.

  He grabbed the first hand that appeared, hoisting Eira up onto the bridge. The pair of them had a much easier time getting the others up.

  Max let out a soft laugh as he closed the trap door and recovered the dagger he'd used to break in. "Well, that was step one."

  Eira pointed at the murder holes and the other scouts. "Line up any stones or whatever near the doors. We'll throw it all down at once, minimize the time they have to react."

  Huh. Smart cookie. Max nodded. "Right. Sounds good." He crept to the door on the same side they had climbed. The other would lead to the side with a blocked off ramp. Not much use.

  The door was heavy, but it moved when he opened it a crack. It looked to have latches on both sides, lockable either way. Probably in case someone took part of the fort.

  It squeaked... but as he watched no one seemed to care to check it out.

  Eira appeared at his side and almost made him jump out of his silly blue armor. "What do you see?"

  "Nothing yet." He looked back over his shoulder. The other scouts were hard at work moving stones and... cannon balls? Where had those come from? Whatever, it didn't matter.

  He pulled the door open a bit more.

  It protested, but it moved.

  "I'll get the gate."

  Max ducked out, moving to hide behind an old wagon.

  "We'll get the gate."

  He narrowed his eyes at Eira, hiding beside him.

  She shrugged. "One gate, it's all they're going to be guarding. You'll need help, and the others don't."

  She probably wasn't wrong... but it was still a little blow to his ego. "You just don't want to move rocks."

  "I don't." She nodded. "Besides, I just had my nails done." She laced the words with a few pounds of sarcasm.

  They made their way to the gate quietly. She seemed perfectly capable of seeing through his attempts at stealth. He didn't know if it was a same team kind of thing, or she was just a lot better at it. He preferred to think the former, since he never lost sight of her either.

  He almost bit off a curse when the gate came into view.

  It seemed like the happening place to be. There was a guard house just beside it which seemed to be where the bandits hung out. They had a large bonfire going out front and about a dozen men with mustard yellow scarves were laughing and singing around it. They had quite the supply of booze, a crate they had busted open showing several more bottles packed in straw. It was not the only crate.

  He could sneak past them, maybe, but opening the gate, or even just unlocking it, would remove him from stealth and was sure to get their attention.

  "Hmm." Eira watched from beside him. "Think they'll drink enough to pass out?"

  "If this is a nightly thing? No."

  "Maybe we should have broken in during the day after all. They'd be sleeping it off."

  "Hindsight is twenty twenty."

  "What?"

  He sighed. He'd almost forgotten she was an NPC.

  16

  Max eyed the inside of the gate as well as he could from his hiding place. It had giant iron hinges he hoped the bandits oiled occasionally. It looked heavy.

  But it also had a latch that one man could throw.

  Well, a simple enough plan, then.

  He pointed his chin back at the door to the bridge. "Come on, change of plans."

  The door was still standing open just enough for them to slip back through. He waved for the other scouts to circle up.

  "Okay. Gate is a problem. You all," he swept his hand, pointing at all of them, "are going to stay in here. Bar that door after I go out this time. When you hear them get upset, you toss everything down."

  Eira crossed her arms. "And how are you going to get that gate open alone? There are a dozen of them out there. Maybe more in the other buildings."

  "I'm going to open it, get their attention, which shouldn't be hard, and lead them out onto the ramp. When you," he pointed again, "do your part, it will signal everyone else to charge in. I'll be heading right at our people, so they'll back me up."

  "If they get up here in time, and if the bandits don't have bows. If they do you'll roll down the ramp like a pin cushion."

  Max shrugged. "I can hold my own, but I won't need to. I'll lose them." He didn't know if NPCs would understand con
cepts like vanishing by hitting a button.

  Probably not. This was all supposed to be real to them.

  He wasn't sure if that was better or worse, really.

  "Either way, you'll all be safe in here. Make sure it's shut tight on both sides, just in case." He turned and looked out the slightly open door.

  He didn't see any more bandits... but that didn't mean much. It was well into the evening. Sensible bandits, if such a thing existed, might well be asleep by now. Or any bandit that couldn't hold their liquor.

  Max ducked out and returned to the same wagon he had hid behind before, watching the dark doors and windows for movement...

  He heard the large door to the murder bridge shut and lock behind him.

  Good. He didn't need anything else to worry about.

  "For the record..."

  He scowled at Eira as she appeared next to him.

  The young woman shrugged. "My lady made her wish that you not die rather clear. You have a job to do."

  Max shook his head. "No, I have two jobs to do. And I know what I'm doing, damn it. Go back."

  "Too late. Door is locked."

  Idiot.

  Stupid goddamn idiot.

  Max sighed.

  She didn't understand. She couldn't.

  He rubbed at his temples. "Fine. Whatever. But do what I say from now on, okay?"

  She shrugged.

  "No." He pointed at her, almost touching her nose. "You can either listen, or you can go hide somewhere and wait for this to be over. I won't have insubordination when lives are on the line, which they are."

  Eira held her hands up and leaned back a bit. "Okay, fine. Yeesh."

  Bloody rogues. No discipline.

  He was truly alone in this profession.

  Depressing.

  "New plan, since there are two of us. I distract them by opening the gate and run through, making a ruckus to get them to follow. You hide inside and make sure they don't have someone close it, and if needs be, open it again."

  She gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir!"

  Max wondered how he'd gotten himself into this... probably Yar's fault. This was all pretty damned crazy.

  He held a finger up to his lips when they neared the little party in front of the gate. He didn't know if she understood the "quiet" gesture, but he didn't stop to consider it until after it was done. Some things are just natural, whether the game understands or not.