Ben stood on the palisades, watching the Simonston group emerge from the forest and step into the clearing.
With his enhanced perception, thanks to the significantly improved Mind attribute, he could see the surprise on their faces as they observed the settlement, and the Protectorate Pillar that towered over the scenery.
The group comprised seven men. Five looked like they'd spent too much time in the gym and possibly used steroids. The sixth man was leaner but still fit; he was slightly older than the others and wore a machete-style knife on his hip. The final person was Councilor Stemberger, wearing fancy outdoor clothes and, like the others, a knife at his hip. He walked beside the older fighter, talking animatedly and waving his arms as they neared the settlement.
Ben walked toward the gate to receive them with his mother and Adam. Jamal and Michael lingered in the background. As the group stepped through the open gate, Ben greeted them with an open smile.
“Welcome to the Protectorate of the Blue Mountain Forest. I hope you had a safe trip.”
“Thank you for having us. Our trip had its challenges, but my friends handled them,” Stemberger said, waving to the men behind him.
Allison stepped forward. “Welcome, also from my side, we have prepared rooms for you in the inn and a dinner to celebrate your arrival.” She pointed towards the plaza.
As they started to walk along the boulevard with the small rivulets of water gurgling on the sides, the councilor and the rest of his team looked around, trying to take it all in.
There was an interesting mix of awe and envy on their faces. The only one who showed no emotion was the lean fighter that Ben had seen talk with Stemberger earlier – he seemed more interested in the training grounds and palisades, than the beauty of the settlement.
“I must say I had expected a lot, but this is indeed a magical place,” Stemberger said. “Is it true that you can build all of this just with a thought?”
Ben shrugged. “It’s just like interacting with your Status sheet. But it’s not free—we have to work for it constantly.”
Stemberger nodded obsequiously. “Of course, of course—I can only imagine the pain you endured to build this. While the city deteriorates, you have built a marble city in the forest… quite the fairytale.”
“What are those?” were the first words uttered by Stemberger’s companion. His voice deep and rough as he pointed at the dungeon portals lining the plaza.
“Those are dungeon portals. They are the reason that the systems have provided us with the opportunity that is the Protectorate. They need to constantly be cleared so that Meta can continue to feed Energy into them,” Allison explained.
The man, whose name Ben still did not know, frowned. Before he could follow up, Stemberger weighed in. “How fascinating. I’d heard of them before technology collapsed, but to see them in real life is a different thing.”
He turned to his companion. “Would you like to explore one of the dungeons, if our hosts will allow it?”
“What is the benefit to run them?” he asked with a slightly challenging tone towards Ben.
“It is like Meta and Mesa said on Arrival Day—they are great places to grow. They are quite diverse, so one can experience different challenges and train different skills and perks. If I understand it correctly, the rate of gaining perks is increased in them as well. Some of them also offer items or other loot once completed.”
At the mention of perks and loot, the fighters’ mood shifted. Where they had been relaxed, they now tightened into focused, aggressive postures.
“We will run them,” their leader said with finality.
Stemberger flinched slightly. “What my friend here, Mr. … Smith, is trying to say, is that we would quite grateful if you would allow us access to your dungeons.”
Ben was slightly amused by the behavior of their guests. The power dynamic between them also seemed different than what he had expected. Outwardly he raised an eyebrow.
“My mother is responsible for access to the dungeons,” he nodded to Allison, “but I am sure we can find a slot in one of our dungeons tomorrow.”
“All of them!” Mr. Smith – or whatever his name was – stated.
Ben could feel how Jamal was starting to close in on them, clearly unhappy with the man’s tone, but waved him off.
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“Why don’t we start with one and take it from there?” Ben said calmly.
Before Mr. Smith could respond, Stemberger interjected, “That is a very gracious offer—many thanks!”
It was clear from their body language, that the topic was not closed to the fighters, but they had reached the inn, and at least for the moment, the smell of a freshly cooked meal changed everybody’s priorities.
***
“Good evening. What’s happening?” Ben asked Steve Taggart as he approached the man standing in the shadows by the HQ.
“It is as predicted. Stemberger is deeply in the pockets of the Warriors. The man introduced to you is a senior lieutenant with them. I don’t know the goons he brought along, but from their look I would say they are from the enforcement side of things, not the absolute core of their most violent members, but bad enough.”
Ben nodded; Taggart’s warning and the guests’ earlier behavior confirmed his expectations.
“Want to bet they’ll go run a dungeon?”
“Nah—that’s a sucker’s bet. It’s guaranteed; we can bet on the timing.”
“I’m afraid we’re too late,” Ben said, pointing to the inn as six Warriors stepped out.
During dinner the men tried to extract dungeon information from Ben’s team, and Ben had largely obliged. There was little downside if they ran a dungeon or two. He’d emphasized that only multi-level dungeons yielded loot when fully cleared.
As expected, Smith checked each portal. He stopped at the mine and waved his men over. Because the maximum team size was five, one of them, he looked like the youngest of the group, had to turn back to the inn.
“Time to settle in—this should take a few hours,” Ben said.
“Do you think they can succeed?” Ben hesitated. “The mine is not the most difficult of the bunch, but… if this is the first dungeon they run… it really depends on how well they are used to working as a team. If they get reckless or overambitious, it could get dangerous for them.
“It is an interesting choice to go for the mine, I can’t imagine that they want to carry ore all the way to the city…”
“True. Maybe they will bring something back that we can use. Marcus has crafted a beautiful dagger from the very first scorpion stinger we got out of that dungeon. I believe he managed to evolve his enchanting perk upon working with it. If I were using daggers, I would buy it in a heartbeat.”
***
Four hours later, Taggart—who had far lower attributes than Ben—had nodded off when the portal lit up. Ben shook the guard captain awake.
“They are returning.”
Smith was first out of the portal, machete in hand. Quickly two of his men followed. After a few seconds, the portal dimmed. All three were bloodied; one had a nasty-looking shoulder wound.
“Looks like it didn’t go too well for them. I’ll go and talk with them.”
Taggart gripped his shoulder. “They might be in a foul mood—do you need backup?”
Ben smiled. “I’m fairly sure Michael is nearby—Jamal and Anne too. It'll be fine.”
He stepped out of the shadows of his home and crossed the plaza to the three men who were still panting heavily and examining their own wounds.
“Do you need to see a doctor?”
They hadn’t heard him arrive, so now all three turned to him, weapons raised. Smith looked at him, calculating.
“You knew we were here?”
Ben pointed at the crystal atop the portal. “The color indicates its status.
“I am sorry about your friends; with the way the world is, we’ve all been through this before, but it still hurts.”
Smith’s expression did not change. “It would be good to see a doctor.”
Ben knew this was a gang, but he was surprised at the lack of visible grief over two of Smith’s men. Nonetheless, he led them back to the inn and arranged for his sister to tend the wounded, with Jamal, Michael and Anne joining them in the common room.
***
The next morning, Ben hadn’t slept at all but felt mostly fine. He was back in the inn and the councilor joined him for breakfast. The Warriors were still in their rooms, sleeping off the events of the night.
The obsequious smile was gone; a deep frown marred the councilor’s face.
“I think we all have a problem now.”
“How so?” Ben asked.
“Before last night, I would have had a chance to steer our… collaboration into a mutually beneficial direction. Now, I am not so sure anymore. Smith doesn’t show it, but he is furious.”
“I am not sure I understand where you are coming from.”
“Don’t play dumb. You don’t get to build this,” Stemberger said, waving vaguely toward the common room and beyond, “and remain ignorant. Obviously we know you attacked the Warriors at the hospital. I’m trying to make this work for everyone, but you messed up.”
“So, let me get this straight. You are working for the Warriors and came here to negotiate something; they ran one of our dungeons without asking, lost some of their friends, and I somehow messed up?”
“I don’t work for anybody. The Warriors are a reality—they have been a reality for many years and since Arrival Day they have only grown stronger—and I am a realist. Anyway, let’s not get distracted. You messed up by not stopping them from ‘running a dungeon,’ as you call it, when they were not prepared to do so. You will have to compensate them for that.”
Ben snorted, nearly choking on the egg.
“Look, despite how much I despise the Warriors and how they prey on the weak, I have no interest in a fight with them. But I will certainly not ‘compensate’ them for doing something that I didn’t tell them to do.”
“But you do want to continue coming to the city, right? That would be much easier if you are on good terms with them. How about this: you could provide the food surplus you have to them. They would distribute it in the city for you.”
“For free?” Ben asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Don’t be an idiot. It’s still win—win—win: the city gets more food, the Warriors get income, and you don’t have to worry about them.”
Ben hesitated, ensuring his response matched his responsibilities and values.
“As I said, I have no interest in fighting the Warriors, and I’ve done nothing wrong here. If we have food surpluses to distribute, we’ll bring them to the city and have your fellow councilors handle distribution. We’ve healed your friends and will supply food for your trip back to town—but that ends our dealings.”
“You are making a mistake.”
“If you’re genuinely trying to navigate everyone, use your influence to make this look like a fair compromise to the Warriors.”
“We will see.”
“Indeed. I wish you a safe trip home.”
An hour later the group had left; Ben pushed them from his mind and focused on the foraging trip they could finally take.
