Glory to the Brave (Ascend Online Book 4)

by Luke Chmilenko

  “Little change,” Stanton said by way of greeting, a faint hint of emotion entering the otherwise stoic noble’s tone as he spoke. “His color has cleared over the last few days, but beyond that, he has yet to wake.”

  “I see,” I replied with a sigh, having hoped, but truthfully not expected, better news as Amaranth and I fully entered the room, the cat making a beeline for the open window at the foot of the bed.

  “Yet we must continue to hold faith,” Stanton told me in a firm voice as I moved to sit in a second chair by the side of the bed. “In my years, I have seen countless others pull through battle shock much worse than his. He just needs the time for his mind to heal.”

  “I hope so,” I said, turning to look at the sleeping form of Samuel, the man’s face having visibly lost a substantial amount of weight since his injury. “We’ve suffered enough losses since this all began.”

  “That we certainly have,” Stanton said softly, the room falling silent briefly before he continued. “It is my hope that once Samuel wakes again and we tell him of our more recent successes, that it will help change his mood for the better.”

  “I have no doubt it will,” I agreed, the pall that had been hanging over the room fading away in light of Stanton’s optimism. Sitting silently, I stared at Samuel for a few moments longer before turning my attention towards Stanton. “Speaking of successes though, the others and I have come up with a tentative plan moving forward. However, there is one piece of it that I was hoping to talk to you about.”

  “Oh?” Stanton queried, eyebrow raised as he turned to look back towards me. “What is it?”

  “Lazarus and his group,” I said, readying myself for resistance from the masquerading spy as I brought up the subject. “It’s no secret that they are…less than enthused to be here.”

  “I believe that they have made that opinion fairly clear on multiple occasions, yes,” Stanton stated, the tone of his voice betraying nothing to me about what was on his mind. “What about it?”

  “Well,” I said, pausing for a moment to collect my thoughts. “In light of that, and the recent lull we’ve found ourselves in, we’re considering taking advantage of this opportunity and sending them back to Eberia, or more specifically, to Coldscar and then Eberia. However, considering that they arrived with you under, let’s just say, extenuating circumstances…”

  “You are concerned that I would take offense and resist you attempting to send away what you or others perceive as being my cover’s bodyguards,” the spy finished, his tone completely even as he spoke.

  “Essentially,” I replied, the man having expertly summed up my concerns in an instant.

  “Then rest assured that you have nothing to worry about,” he continued, glancing briefly over at Samuel before turning back onto me. “As I outlined in our…discussion weeks earlier, my service has been pledged to Aldford for the next few months. As difficult as it may be to believe, given my earlier deception, that service comes without any strings or attempts at misdirection attached. In essence, I am here to assist you in any way possible for the duration of my stay.”

  “Then you have no objection with them leaving?” I asked, a little surprised by how easily the agent had taken the news. I’d expected that I’d have to work at least a little bit to bring him around to see my point of view, not to just have him nod in acceptance.

  “How could I?” Stanton asked, clasping his hands together in his lap. “With the ley line repaired, the task that House Denarius has assigned to them has been fulfilled most satisfactorily, I have no reason—or ability, for that matter—to keep them here any longer. I suspect they will be quite eager to return to Eberia and see to the release of their guild members as was originally promised.”

  “Well, uh, that’s great then,” I said, unable to help but feel a little silly with how easily things had gone. The problem I and everyone else tended to have with Stanton was that he was impossible to read or trust with any confidence, his shadowy profession always at the forefront of our mind. “We’re still working out details on when they’d leave, likely tomorrow or the day after depending on how fast they can get ready, but part of the reason why we are looking to send them to Coldscar is to see if they can entice a core of adventurers or even entire guilds to make their way towards Aldford. Not to mention warn Marshal Tarius about the presence of the orcs that we’ve seen, too.”

  “I suspected as much the moment that you mentioned the city, and I must say that I am in favor of both goals,” Stanton commented as he gave me an approving nod. “Another legion or two of…amicable adventurers would go far to securing Aldford’s authority in the region and turn any future conflict with either the Dread Crew or this hidden orc tribe sharply in your favor.”

  “That’s what we’re hoping,” I stated wistfully, silently hoping for what was easily the hundredth time that we weren’t inviting even more problems into the area. After all, I knew firsthand just how hard it was to predict what other players would do, let alone control them. “We need the manpower if we’re going to keep growing, and whatever window we have to recruit more adventurers to our side will only last until the Ascendancy openly attacks Coldscar.”

  “Assuming they haven’t already,” Stanton pointed out in a quiet voice.

  “Hopefully, they haven’t,” I agreed, knowing full well from a meta-perspective that the Ascendancy hadn’t made any such move yet but unable to tell Stanton that without the game filtering it from his memory and defeating the whole purpose of the conversation. “But that’s another thing that I’m hoping Lazarus and the others can confirm for us. Because if the war has already started, then we really need to know about it. Our existing problems here notwithstanding.”

  “I suppose if the world started to fall down around our ears, it would be prudent to know,” Stanton mused, going as far as to offer me a thin smile. “In either case, however, please let me know how I may assist. I would suggest sending along a report informing Marshal Tarius of our recent success with repairing the ley line and the current situation that we find ourselves in as well. The same for the matriarch as well. Given the role æther is expected to play in mustering Eberia’s defense, they should know that we have been successful with our original mission to repair the ley line. Not to mention it may be our last chance to send any sort of communique before we are cut off.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, completely understanding the need to report our success as well as the potential troubles affecting us. Based on everything that Stanton had told us earlier, Eberia was counting on the restoration of Æther to the city to help fuel the multitude of weapons and artifacts that they had recovered from the Nafarr ruins the city was built upon.

  “Very good,” Stanton replied, inclining his head towards me. “Then I will prepare a draft of letters for both your and Fredric’s review by the end of the day.”

  “Great,” I said, happy with how easily everything had gone with Stanton. “That was really the biggest thing that I wanted to bring up. The highlights of our plan afterward calls for Hallowguarde to resume rebuilding Shadow’s Fall, at least to the point where we adventurers can use it as an anchor for our souls should we die. Then for the rest of us to continue onwards with aggressive scouting activities, barring any new information from our…guests.”

  “Ah, yes,” Stanton mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Have you had a chance to speak with any of them yet?”

  “I haven’t,” I replied, shaking my head. “I wanted to let them stew and get used to their surroundings a bit before I started any interrogations.”

  “A valid tactic,” Stanton stated, offering me a nod. “However, the usefulness of that approach will depend much on what style of interrogation you choose to follow once you are face to face with the prisoner. Might I ask what your plan was once you were in a room together?”

  “Uh, well,” I started, then immediately paused to collect my thoughts. “I was going to have them escorted into a room with a pair of chairs and alread
y be waiting there when they came in. At that point, I’d invite them to sit down and try to open a discussion with them. Start with minor questions such as how they were enjoying their stay and the like. From there, I—what, what’s wrong?”

  I cut myself off as Stanton began to shake his head from side to side.

  “Lyrian,” he said flatly, his face not betraying any emotion. “Forgive me for saying this, but you are too…kind.”

  “Uh,” I grunted, staring back at the spy blankly. “Thanks? Or is that a bad thing?”

  “For your chosen tactic, it is, how can I say? Inconsistent,” Stanton answered gently. “By delaying any questioning or interviews for several days, you have forced the prisoners to acclimatize to their surroundings, to get used to their loss of freedom and their powerlessness. In effect, you are setting yourself up as an iron authority figure in their eyes, able to control their destiny with a mere thought.

  “To invest your energy in doing such, and then to present them with a soft, relationship-building interview as I surmise your intentions were, will run counterproductive to that,” the man continued, his eyes focused intently on mine as he spoke. “You will confuse them as to what their place is, and most likely make them see you as being weak, regardless of your actual physical prowess and combat ability.”

  “Okay…” I said slowly, feeling a little caught off guard with the switch that the conversation had taken. “What would you suggest?”

  “Maintain your dominance,” Stanton stated.

  “And how do I do that exactly?” I asked, the spy’s advice sounding useful in theory, but giving me no clue of how to actually put it into practice. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience when it comes to this sort of stuff.”

  “I am aware,” Stanton replied. “That is one of the reasons why the matriarch offered Aldford my service for a time. There are substantial gaps in all of your educations when it comes to the more subtle arts.”

  “To be fair, there hasn’t been anything exactly subtle about the last two months,” I grumbled, not a bit petulantly.

  “No, there certainly hasn’t,” the man allowed, conceding the point. “However, given the challenges you have before you now, it is time to begin remedying that when opportunity allows.”

  “Well, I’m all ears,” I said, glancing over at Samuel who was still asleep, not having so much as twitched since our arrival. “But do you want to go somewhere else for this?”

  “No, we should be fine here, and I do not expect this particular lesson to take long,” Stanton said, glancing briefly at the sleeping mage before shaking his head. “I tend to favor practical experience in my teaching, which given the number of captives we have, we conveniently have plenty of opportunity for.”

  “That’s one way to look at it,” I said hesitantly, wondering just what I might have gotten myself into.

  “It is the only way to look at it,” Stanton affirmed. “Now, before we get into too much detail of actual interrogation tactics, there is one extremely important attribute that I wish to highlight that will serve as the foundation of this lesson.”

  “And what’s that?” I asked, suddenly curious about what the man was going to say.

  “Reputation,” the spy answered. “This is possibly the greatest weapon that you might have in your arsenal, but one that can be quickly damaged or even rendered useless should you not take proper care of it. Now while I trust you understand the role of reputation in its broader sense, such as personal virtue and the consequences of your actions, what I mean by it, in this case, is the presence that you subconsciously bring into a room with you.”

  “I wasn’t aware that I exactly had a presence, at least not consciously,” I said to the man, seeing him nod his head in response.

  “And that is why it is going to be the crux of this lesson,” Stanton told me. “Think for a second if your positions were reversed between you and your captives. How would you feel the moment that you saw yourself? Or better yet, let’s use Carver as an example. What would be your reaction if you were his prisoner and he entered the room?”

  “To be honest, fear and a lot of anger,” I replied without any hesitation. “It would depend on the exact circumstances and what he did.”

  “Precisely,” the spy said. “And I imagine that if he entered the room wearing a flowery bonnet and invited you for a cup of tea, it would shatter that particular perception of him.”

  “Well, yeah, of course it would,” I grunted, shaking my head at the rather ridiculous scenario. “That wouldn’t be in line with what I’d expect out of him. I’d probably be confused, if nothing else.”

  “Which would be precisely what the prisoners would feel if you attempted to befriend them or have an excessively cordial conversation with them as you’d planned,” Stanton stated, highlighting his point. “First and foremost, when dealing with an enemy or rival, you need to consider what their perception of you is, and how they may react to it. If they are afraid of you, then they will act differently than if they were envious of you, and even more so if they are indifferent to you.”

  “I think I understand what you’re getting at now,” I said to Stanton, slowly nodding at him as I processed everything that he’d told me. “In their case, they’ve always seen me as an enemy, one that’s caused them a ton of trouble.”

  “One that despite their best efforts they have never been able to truly beat,” Stanton added, his eyes fixating on mine. “Do not sell yourself short, Lyrian. Given all of the major conflicts that you have been involved in with these prisoners over the last two months, you have crushed them utterly each time. Think of what effect that might have on their morale and thinking.”

  “I…I didn’t really think about it that way,” I said slowly, thinking over all the battles that we’d had with Carver and the Dread Crew. In every case, save perhaps the ambush near the Irovian tower, there’d been a clear-cut victor in the end, with that particular battle ending in a draw at best for them.

  Maybe not even that much, considering we managed to take down a few of their NPCs, I thought, thinking through the entirety of the battle. And all they managed to do was send a some of us for a respawn.

  “But I can see that you are now,” Stanton said, no doubt seeing the realization in my eyes. “How does that change your perspective of the situation now?”

  “Substantially,” I stated, re-thinking everything about the original approach that I’d planned for interrogating the prisoners.

  “Good,” Stanton stated, leaning forward in his chair towards me. “Now we can start the lesson.”

  Chapter 12

  “I have the prisoner you requested here,” Dyre stated, his voice echoing throughout the main hall of Aldford’s prison as he strode up towards Amaranth and me with a dark-haired dwarf dressed in a plain burlap shirt and pants by his side.

  “Thank you, justicar,” I said, nodding once at the armored man before turning to look towards the dwarf and meeting the angry expression on his face. “Hello, Phillion, long time no see. I hope you’ve been enjoying our hospitality here so far.”

  “You fucking know I’m not,” the dwarf spat by way of greeting, his expression not changing.

  “Really?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know about you, but four walls and a place to sleep has to beat that ash-covered field we’ve spent the last week fighting over.”

  “Then maybe we should trade places if you like it so much,” Phillion grunted acidly.

  “Ha, very funny,” I replied, offering the man a smile. “But as luck turns out, I already have a room, one that I’m able to come and go from as I please.”

  “Fancy that,” Phillion said through clenched teeth. “Now what the hell do you want from me, Lyrian? Because the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can tell you to piss off and go back to my cell.”

  “Are you really that eager to go back into your box?” I asked, letting the dwarf’s anger wash over me without flinching. “Because I actually came here after realizing
just how rude I was in dragging all of you into town and throwing you straight into here. It didn’t occur to me until today that I should probably give you all a proper tour of your new home.”

  “A…tour?” Phillion said slowly, his anger vanishing, replaced by confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “A tour of Aldford,” I clarified, purposefully smiling wider at the dwarf. “I’m sure you could use the walk too. We tried to make those rooms as comfortable as possible when we built the place, but I’m sure they’re getting pretty cramped by now.”

  Phillion looked at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted two heads, his mouth hanging open as if he were unsure of what to say. “Uh…”

  “Well, that wasn’t exactly the enthusiastic reply I expected, but I suppose it’ll do,” I said, glancing over towards Dyre, the man having been waiting patiently until this point. “Justicar, I would like to request temporary custody of this prisoner for a short while to show him the town, if at all possible.”

  “Hang on a sec—” Phillion started to say before being cut off by Dyre.

  “Granted,” the man stated. “I trust that you will be responsible for both his safety, as well to ensure that he does not escape?”

  “Of course,” I answered confidently, inclining my head towards Amaranth, whom until this point had been sitting beside me peacefully. “That’s why I brought my familiar with me. He’ll make sure that nothing untoward happens during our excursion.”

  As if on cue, Amaranth took that opportunity to lift a paw off the ground and lick it, revealing a series of wickedly sharp claws.

  “That will be more than sufficient,” Dyre said, completely unperturbed by the cat’s display. “Please return him in good time. He is still a prisoner, after all.”