Chapter 79 - Making Contact

Hours passed before night’s gloom was pierced by the first crimson rays of dawn. The sporadic rooftop patrols slowly diminished when it seemed clear that no midnight Elven ambush was imminent. Certainly no patroller seemed alarmed by there being three less musketeers than there had been, just hours ago. Most especially not the pair of humans finally slipping out of their assigned ambush nest, set up just inside the landing below the rooftop stairs, now making their way home with tired yawns. The father and son duo looked remarkably similar, no doubt due to older bodies quickly reverting to their prime when stats went from below ten back to youth's blessings and then to an Olympians 18 to 19, and then, after a couple more levels, straight off the charts, into the twenties and beyond.

Nonetheless, there was a certain ruggedness to the father’s features and a weariness to his gaze that instantly pegged him as a man burdened by responsibility and worry, not a boy excited, despite the horrors all around him, for the opportunity to level up and grow as much as any destined hero living exciting adventures in countless games and novels.

Though Linus's brooding face was the farthest from the happy grin one might normally expect to see in a boy around Eric’s age, with a powerfully built body any varsity athlete would desire, offhandedly holding shield and a brace of javelins as he gazed at the city ruins before him, his features filled with concern much like his father’s own.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Linus?”

“Do you think he’ll actually show?”

This earned a tightening of the brow, even as a stumbling orc, clearly drunk, weaved along the road, an anxious middle-aged human in rags that had once been a business suit, hurried to keep up, struggling under a clay jug of whatever the orc was drinking. “That’s a damn good question,” he said, after roaring at the orc in broken Orcish to watch his step when he came near to jostling them.

“Vorsatch Kro Doggat!”

The orc snarled, turning around, hand on the hilt of his axe, before widened eyes caught a good look of the pair of humans now standing half a dozen yards back with shields at the ready and javelins poised to throw. The steel armor-cutting points on two-foot long iron shanks were attached to five-foot shafts of wood, the weapons looking much like the pilum that Roman javelineers once made such extensive use of, perfect for piercing both shields and armor, and leaving lethally deep wounds. Tools of death that the crimson crow looking on found very interesting. Because both of those javelins pulsated with arcane energy that Eric was almost positive represented a Class skill. When thrown, they would be far more devastating than any armor-piercing javelin thrown by your typical Olympian, that was for damn sure.

The orc stumbled back as the broken man in rags fell to his knees and begged the champions not to kill his beloved master. “Please, great champions of the Vorgot tribe! This lowly one implores you to show mercy to this unworthy slave, whose sloth, weakness, and foolishness has caused your gazes to fall my glorious master's way. I can only pray for your indulgence and mercy for my unforgivable offense!"

Linus winced but kept his gaze firmly on the beady-eyed orc, even when the slave wept tears that might or might not have been genuine, ripping open the front of his suit jacket to reveal a pale, emaciated chest, begging that they expend their ire on his unworthy flesh, and not that of his beloved master.

“Apologies,” the weaving orc grunted at last, hand carefully lifting from the head of its still sheathed axe to pick a massive monster of a booger from a very pig-like snout. It then spat on the ground.

Linus and his father spat in turn, and that appeared to be the end of it, as the drunken orc weaved around with a surprising amount of agility for one of its kind, and stumbled off, the enslaved human singing his thanks and praises for the champions' restraint as he scurried off after his master.

Linus and his father exchanged hard smiles. “I fucking hate what happened to this city,” Linus admitted.

His father nodded. “But getting respect from thugs who would otherwise happily pound you to the ground without a second thought? Yeah, that part is nice. About the only perk to this shitty job.”

“That, and having a body any gold medalist would drool over.”

The older javelineer laughed. “True that, son. Very true.”

Linus lowered his voice. “But still, dad… if we could get out?”

His father flinched, gaze hardening. “Wait ‘til we get home, son.”

Which they soon did, observing dozens of spoken and unspoken social ques as they passed inebriated orcs stumbling out of a former theatre hall smelling like piss and fermented rat guts, one or more collared servants inevitably behind them, either dragging along spears or jugs of what was, if Linus’s wrinkled nose was anything to go by, was clearly noxious smelling brew.

“I can’t believe fermented rat gall is actually a thing,” Linus whispered, earning a smirk from his father.

“And from what Milson said, it isn’t just alcohol. And sure as hell it’s not good for people like us,” his father said, both of them looking pityingly at one comatose human wretch dressed in filthy rags and huddled by the theater, covered in sores and groaning in his own puke. “Not only is it addictive, it eats you up from within.” The man’s hard gaze turned pitying. “The orcs even let people who are desperate enough to escape their lives of misery to drink it, because it amuses them to see how it enslaves and destroys us, while they can drink it with near impunity. One more way for those bastards to feel superior, I guess.”

Linus’s jaw clenched. He squeezed his javelin in a furious grip while his eyes flashed with sudden heat. “First it was the pits and that damned pod. Now it's slavers, and poisoning us for fun. This has to end, dad. This shit has to end!"

But before he could glare at another pair of stumbling orcs as they quickly left the area near the theater, his father grabbed his shoulder and gave him a firm shake. “Enough, Linus. Think of your mother and baby brother! Their safety, their very lives depend upon us toeing the goddamned line!”

The boy flinched under his father's furious hiss, the shambling porcine horrors thankfully ignoring them. "Damn, boy, you're going to get us killed! What's gotten into you?"

Linus glared. “You know what.”

His father sighed. "Yeah, I do."

Linus turned back to glare back the way they had come. When he turned back to his father, it was with a determined look in his eyes. “If he comes back, I’m in.”

“Linus...”

The boy gave a furious shake of his head. “Anything’s better than this, dad. Anything!”

The boy’s father cursed softly under his breath, before finally nodding. “Yeah. You know what? So am I.”

Linus let loose a pent up breath. “Good. So when we talk to Peter and the others...”

“We’re serious about it. We only tell those we can trust.”

“Good, because Rich is in so deep with those bastards, he fucking smells like them.”

This earned a snort. “Rich is definitely off the list.” The father frowned thoughtfully as they approached what had once been an upscale high rise, now guarded by a grinning pair of orc spearmen, standing before one of the very few buildings with intact windows and a sidewalk not covered in puke and filth.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen his little gang for quite awhile. Or Jules and his crew," Linus's father said as they slipped past the grinning pair of orc spearmen before heading through the still nicely carpeted foyer to the stairwell, neither orc nor human thinking anything much of the crimson crow fluttering in the shadows, flying through an open window before joining the pair as they effortlessly ascended a good dozen flights of stairs.

“Good riddance to both those assholes,” Linus said as they continued their conversation away from orc ears. “I trust Rich’s band of ex-drug runners even less than I do Jules’ pack of wanna-be psychos. And the way Rich’s scout, Usef, would look at Peggy and smile at her… I hated them from the moment they tried to get us to join his crew.”

His father chuckled coldly. "And he could sense it, I think, leaving with his veiled threats and a smile. And you know what, son? Maybe it was for the best. It pushed us to train and learn what we could from our enemies, no matter how much we hated them. Learn and hunt those rats with a vengeance, clocking in almost as many hours as I did at my old job by rotating with three different teams we could trust, and not once stopping that pace until we were strong enough that neither orc nor asshole thug would find us easy to push around."

“And they were all happy to take all three of us,” said Linus with a hard smile. “Especially since we would let them have two-thirds of our share. Three for the price of one, you’d say, as long as mom and Jimmy could stay with David’s family, so we knew they were safe. And with that many javelins and spears, we were actually pretty safe, once we knew the layout of the dungeons and the sewers. Because big teams are teams full of survivors, as Dave put it, as long as we didn’t mind putting in the hours we needed to slowly grind those levels, almost sixteen hours, every single bloody day.”

Linus grinned, not even looking at the rapidly approaching trio of barking and squealing beasts before adroitly dodging past a pair of dogs chasing a giant rat with a degree of quickness and grace that an outsider would have found awe-inspiring, if not outright chilling, serving to emphasize just how far past human norms the teenager had already come. But even this paled with how quickly he spun around and released a javelin streaking through the air, perfectly timed to strike the rat as it raced down the stairs, the creature ripped open with a squeal before being savaged by the pair of dogs who seemed perfectly fine with Linus's presence as he jogged down and levered free the javelin that had blasted completely through the floor.

“King, Killer, good work!” Linus scratched both dogs happily rubbing against his legs like he was part of their pack as they devoured their prey, before heading back up to his father, both hardened enough that neither said anything about the blood now on his hands and javelin, save pausing while he cleaned both with a rag.

“And I would have happily shown that slimy little scout just how strong I've gotten, after catching him trying to corner Peggy on the roof, and get her to drink some of that fucking orcish rotgut." Linus shook his head. "I would have killed him right then and there, dad, if you hadn't knocked me silly when you heard the yelling."

This earned a snort. “Good. I’m glad you didn’t kill Usef, because then Rich’s whole team would have been gunning for our family.” The older man sighed, patting his son’s shoulder. “And I’m glad you trusted your instincts and checked up on your sister. Everyone knows how badly she wants to be a mage, and her practice on the rooftop with that broken toy of hers was too damned predictable.”

“What's this about being too damned predictable?" Said a young feminine voice as the triple-locked steel reinforced door father and son were standing outside abruptly burst open, revealing a girl dressed in boiled rawhide much like her brother and father, whom she clearly resembled, though her sandy-blond hair was tied up in a bun, revealing a slender neck complimenting her coltish build, in contrast to her father and brothers' powerful frames.

Presently she was flashing a devilish smile at her brother’s startled expression, when she held a wand of leather and bone.

Linus grimaced. “What the hell is that in your hands, Pegs?”

Peggy’s light green eyes shown with sudden heat. “This, Brother, is proof that my destiny is not to become a spear maiden, whatever David thinks.”

Linus frowned thoughtfully. “Doesn’t look like the shocker you and Professor Stetson were working on. Did you give up on fixing it?”

"Hardly. That's now my backup stun gun. This, bro, is even sweeter. Watch, and be amazed!” Her eyes lit up with excitement as she slowly whispered into the ether.

“Voco mus!”

And it said something, the passenger in the crimson crow thought, that the girl who couldn’t have been more than eighteen looked almost as awed as her brother when a massive 3 foot rat popped into existence by her feet. Before promptly scurrying off.

“I did it. My invention actually worked!” she hooted in triumph before abruptly stumbling, her brother giving her a worried look as he caught her.

“Peggy!” her father roared.

“It’s okay, Peter.”

The man sighed. “Peggy, how many times have I asked you to call me dad?”

“Sorry… dad. Anyway, it all sort of clicked, after our latest hunt! That’s why I’ve been gathering all the organs that looked particularly juicy in mana these last couple of runs, and this is my latest invention! I’m still learning how to use it after figuring out how to tie all the strands together… But even after boosting the fuck out of it, it taps into my Mana Pool something fierce!" She chuckled softly. "But once I get a few skill ranks under my belt, I should be able to summon at least three to fight by my side in the sewers!"

“Wait, you actually made that thing?”

Peggy positively beamed, before her eyes widened with alarm. As did Peter, spinning around with superhuman speed, guarding his sister with shield and pilum at the ready.

Because the crow’s voice had echoed Linus’s own words of surprise, and Eric was surprised to find himself in the mental front seat of a very shaken and pissed crow, now cawing and raising his wings at the glaring pair of humans staring up at him as he struggled to perch on a decorative door lintel, since he wasn’t really in full control of his wings.

He couldn't help but notice the way the javelin heads seemed to glow blue and vibrate, knowing he was a sitting duck. Or... crow.

“Wait, I come in peace!” Eric desperately cawed.

Words which earned a surprised snort from Linus, a scowl from the father, and an awed smile from Peggy.

“Wait, wait, are you Professor Stetson’s familiar?”

Eric shook his beak. "I'm afraid not. But I am a friend, and I do come in peace, as they say."

“Why are you here?” The father, Peter, snapped in a no-nonsense tone.

Eric took a deep breath. “I’m here to offer you a way out.” He took in the curious woman now at the doorway holding a little baby boy in her arms, beautiful despite the faint lines of worry and care that marked nearly everyone in this post-apocalyptic era who hadn't dared the pods. "I'm here to offer you all a way out."

The woman's eyes widened, and Eric wasn't blind to the sharp, decisive look in her eyes when she turned to her husband.

“Peter, invite our guest in.”

“But honey, we don’t know...”

"It knows where we live already, dear. Its master has areal reconnaissance capabilities in a world without any satellites, planes, or cameras. Whoever this is, I'm interested in hearing whatever he or she has to say."

Peggy grinned. “Momma’s in captain mode, so better listen, sarge.”

Her father rolled his eyes, though his hand never left his javelin. “Alright… crow. We’ll listen to what you have to say, providing you promise to leave us be, if that’s our wish.”

The crow bobbed his head. “Of course.”

And within moments, Eric found himself comfortably perched on a table with a handful of still packaged crackers he was happy enough to devour… the family gazing at him with curious smiles but saying nothing when he waddled in, still not sure how to use the wings, but sending reassurances to what he now sensed was a bemused Morlekai's psyche that his friend could take over again whenever he liked.

For some reason, Morlekai chose not to.

“So what do we call you?” Asked the mother.

Eric grinned. “Eric, if you like, Captain.”

The woman flashed a tired smile. “That was a long time ago, I’m afraid. You can call me Samantha. Or Sammy, if you like.”

“But you were, Mother, and a damn good one at that,” Peggy insisted.

Her mother grinned at that, rubbing her daughter’s hair while comforting the little boy in her arms. “What I am mostly is very curious about how we can help our little friend here. I think perhaps an exchange of information might be in order?”

Eric gamely bobbed his beak. “More than fair, Sammy.”

“Do you work for the elves?”

The entire room went silent, everyone staring at the crow.