Massively Multiplayer by P. Aaron Potter Read Free Book Online Page B

right back where he started – only this time he'd be weaker, and unarmed. MadHarp could simply wait at the bottom of the stairs, killing him over and over again, until he agreed to accompany the minstrel assassin to Gil's.
    And even if the guards arrived on time, or if, by some miracle, he managed to dispatch MadHarp, that would hardly be the end of it. Some people, when you killed them, considered that the end of the affair. MadHarp was the other kind. He carried grudges. He'd come seeking Druin out again, and he wouldn't just be following Gil's orders this time. He'd make it personal, and he probably wouldn’t stop killing him until Druin was back to being a first-circle thief. If then. Druin's options were limited, and all of them seemed bad.
    "Right, okay, I'm going. But this better be worth it." The protest sounded feeble even to his ears.
    "Outstanding!" the minstrel laughed more loudly. "See, I knew you were smart."
    Wonderful, Druin thought morosely, that makes one of us.
     
    The hill above the port of Bitter Edge was encircled by a low stone wall, pierced in three places by brass gates. Unlike the defensive walls which circled the town below, these inner defenses were more symbolic than effective. An experienced thief like Druin could have scaled them without effort. But the symbolism was significant. Up-Hill was the location of the powerful guild-towers. It was also the abode of the wealthy and the powerful, those Adventurers of the tenth circle and above who had accumulated enough gold to purchase a piece of permanent property instead of merely renting a room in one of the town's half-dozen inns.
    Those who managed to gain such a foothold tended to be cautious, jealously aware that their situation was a precarious one, and that any drop below the necessary rank or wealth would send them back out into the ranks of the more commonplace Adventurers.
    The house of Gil de Wraithmorte was small by Up-Hill standards, which was only to say that it was more a mansion than a palace, lacking an outer curtain wall or courtyard. The walls were of unadorned sandstone, dull next to the marble columns of some of the other houses, or the polished obsidian which made up the towers of the Binders' Guild. But the Binders were mages, and thus devoted to flashy appearances. Gil’s place was massive, but practical.
    And, like most noble houses, the place was positively crawling with guards, faceless hulks whose intimidating appearance was scarcely brightened by the blood-red tabards worn over their dull gray armor.
    "You like?" MadHarp asked as they passed unchallenged through the open front gate. He gestured to indicate the flat beige walls, the guards, the view of the city and the harbor, the upscale neighborhood.
    "Sure, great," Druin agreed, less than heartily. He was bothered by the fact that MadHarp hadn't bothered to disarm him before entering the house. That indicated that he wasn't even being considered as a potential threat, a bad sign when dealing with the paranoid Gil and his minions. "What is Gil now, anyway? Has he reached twelfth circle yet?"
    "Fourteenth," MadHarp countered mildly.
    "No way! He was just tenth during the Swamp Trek. Nobody rises that fast!"
    "Gil did," Mad-Harp corrected him, "and he hasn't even been out much on the quest circuit. Once you break tenth level, it becomes self-defeating. He's very slick. He's something of a broker these days. He fronts a lot of quests with equipment in return for a percentage of the gold. It's all training for the Heptarchy after tenth circle." He gave Druin another of his appraising looks, which Druin was getting tired of. "You should start thinking about this stuff, you know, sixth circle and all. He could teach you how the system works."
    "Thanks, but no. In the first place I play straight." Druin held up a hand to forestall the minstrel's objection. "I'm not saying Gil's hacking the system, and it doesn't matter to me if he is. I just like the questing, straight up.