The designated rendezvous location is none other than The Shoebill. After all, it’s the only place in the city where they can really expect any privacy. People don’t just walk onto ships that aren’t theirs unless they’re drunk or breaking the rules which results in getting kicked out of the city.

“About time!” Oleander shouts out when he sees Fenrir and the girls approaching. He’s sitting atop one of the crates on the deck and kicking his legs out of boredom. “Hey, Fenny, you okay?”

Fenrir realizes that his concern his showing on his face. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… that Ull guy. I saw him, and we weren’t talking loudly enough for him to hear us, but he looked directly at me like he heard everything I was saying,” he explains.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just chance that he looked at you? I mean, sometimes eyes just meet.”

“I’m sure, Olly. I can’t really describe it. It was like… he was looking into me, not just at me. And the way he smiled – it was weird. He honestly doesn’t seem like that bad of a guy just listening to him talk, but there’s something off about him. It’s messing with me.” Serra leans into Fenrir’s side once he’s done explaining what happened.

“What makes you say he didn’t seem like a bad guy?” Oleander asks, tilting his head.

“I don’t know. He just seemed pretty… chill. I was expecting him to be some haughty, stuck-up prick, but he seemed pretty normal,” Fenrir explains. “Were you able to find anything out about those girls?”

Oleander smiles and hops off of the crate. “Who do you think I am? You think I can’t find out anything you want to know? Come on, Fenny! You know me better than that.” Oleander walks up to Fenrir with both of his hands behind his back, offering his head to Fenrir.

Fenrir places his hand right between Oleander’s antlers and pets his head. “I’m guessing the tradition of petting you before you give your reports is never going to change?”

“Of course not! I’m too much of a slut for head-patting to stop it,” Oleander says, pressing his head up against Fenrir’s hand.

Rock, meanwhile, stands up on her back two legs to paw at Fenrir and whine.

Fenrir’s other hand reaches down to pet Rock while still petting Oleander.

Now, Serra and Cassiel are the ones looking jealous.

“Don’t you have Corwin for this now?” Fenrir asks Oleander.

“I doooo, but he’s not here right now, and getting head pats isn’t cheating!” Oleander explains.

“Alright, so what’s the report?”

Oleander skips back over to his crate and hops up onto it. “The king’s harem is being kept in a mansion designated for important visitors of Blackstache. From what the guard told me, Blackstache himself doesn’t really care much about the king, but he needs the alliance for military reasons. The guard didn’t know anything about that special girl, but he said she’s probably with the rest of the king’s harem. Oh, and the mansion is over there,” Oleander points at a large, elaborate manor on the opposite end of the city. Even though it’s behind several streets and buildings, it is tall enough to reach above them all and catch the attention of anybody who looks in that direction.

“We’re back!” Tabitha declares, stepping onto The Shoebill with Corwin and Bonekraka.

Fenrir turns his attention to them. “How’d it go?” he asks.

Tabitha gives him an energetic thumbs-up while Corwin and Bonekraka both look exhausted. “Got everythin’ ready! A bit of magic and a bit of tech, and that baby will be all ours when we need it!”

“What else is in that giant backpack of yours? Oh, and how’d it look up there? Any patrols or anything?”

“Not much other than scrap now. I’ve got the remote to control my toy up there when it’s time, but other than that, nothin’ much.”

Corwin chimes in. “There were no patrols, captain. It was rather surprising. I know there is little use for the cannons when there are no clear threats approaching, but I would have thought they would at least keep a guard or two patrolling the cliffs.”

“Well, as long as nobody saw anything, there’s nothing to worry about. Was the cannon already loaded?” Fenrir asks.

Tabitha nods. “Checked a few of ‘em. They were all loaded up and ready to fire, so all we need to do is let my toy aim the cannon and fire it.”

“You’re awfully confident in it. You sure that it’ll work? Wait… you never did explain how exactly it works.”

“It’s a golem I made! It’s not a smart one, but it gets the job done!”

“That giant cube was a golem?”

“It doesn’t stay a giant cube. When I activate it from the controller, it unfolds and takes the shape of a small person, and it’ll follow any orders I give it from the controller. All I’ve got to do is activate it and then order it to aim the cannon and fire! It should have just enough mana stored in it to do that before shutting down.”

“How are we going to recover it?”

“We don’t. I made this one so that it explodes as soon as it runs out of mana.”

“Oh. Alright.” Fenrir wasn’t expecting it to just explode once it’s done with its job. He feels kind of bad for it. More importantly, he’s worried if she’d be fine with just exploding The Shoebill.

Fenrir tells the latest trio to arrive about what they learned from listening to people at the festival and seeing the king up close as well as what Oleander told them.

“Now we just have to win the tournament,” Cassiel says.

“We can do it,” Serra says as her finger sneakily approaches Cassiel’s side. Unfortunately, Cassiel spots it and swats it away.

Fenrir doesn’t even realize that he’s still petting Rock’s head.

“You know plan probably not work,” Bonekraka says.

“Since when are you a pessimist?” Fenrir asks.

“You not think clearly. What if lose tournament? If we lose tournament, you will not get meeting with pirate and king. Even if win, have to sneak many girls away while causing distraction. I do not like this plan.”

“Relax, Bone. We’re going to win the tournament, and the cannon up there will cause a great distraction. That thing will tear right through the king’s ship, and Ull’s followers seem like they’re just waiting for a fight to break out. What do you think they’ll assume when one of the main weapons of the city they’re visiting attacks their king’s ship?”

“So, you wish to potentially cause war between the Free Sailors and Northern Wardens? What of those caught between them? There are many families who live in this city that will be at risk, and if the Northern Wardens turn against the Free Sailors, then that will be three of the world’s largest factions against one,” Corwin asks. It is only now that he's truly realizing the consequences of Fenrir's plan.

Fenrir’s immediate thought is that it doesn’t matter. This is just a game. NPC “families” dying isn’t a big deal, but when he remembers just how realistic and sentient many NPCs are, he has doubts.

What would happen to Morven, his wife, and daughter? They seemed like such a happy family together. “Hey, any of you know what happens to NPCs when they die?” Fenrir asks.

“They die,” Cassiel answers. “They don’t get to respawn like we do. Even elite raid bosses only have single lives. Some other boss comes and takes over whenever the one before it dies.”

This whole game just got far more complicated. Fenrir knows that most wouldn’t care about the lives of NPCs regardless of whether they are controlled by sentient AIs or not, but he does. He doesn’t want anybody innocent potentially suffering for his actions.

Just the thought of permanently ending a life, even if it is the fictional life of an AI in a video game, is enough to turn his stomach.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bonekraka says. “Just NPCs. Who cares if they die? Is only a game. NPCs die. Their lives don’t matter.”

Corwin steps up to Bonekraka. “What do you mean their lives do not matter? Are you so selfish and brutish that you cannot respect life? How would you feel if death was permanent for you?” Corwin interrogates him.

Bonekraka glares down at the smaller man. He raises his hands and grabs onto Corwin’s shirt to lift him up off the ship’s deck, but a few vines wrap around the orc’s wrists that pull him off of Corwin.

Fenrir looks at where the vines are coming from.

In Oleander’s hands are a couple of roses with their stems sprouting the thorny vines.

“Do not talk to me. I do not care what you think,” Bonekraka explains to Corwin before tearing the vines off of his wrists.

“I will not stand back and let you so easily dismiss the lives of others. This world means far more to them than it does to you,” Corwin says, straightening out his shirt.

“I’m with Corwin on this one. They might just be NPCs, but they’re sentient. They have feelings, emotions, dreams, lives – they actually live in this world. We’re just visitors,” Fenrir says.

“Thank you, Fenrir.”

“Of course you agree. You just want to fight against me and not take my side like usual. You never agree with me!” Bonekraka shouts.

Oleander places himself between Bonekraka and Fenrir before another fight breaks out. “Alright, that’s enough. Fighting again isn’t going to do anything, and we have a tournament tomorrow. We only have to get along for a few more days, alright?” Oleander says.

Bonekraka pushes past them both and heads below deck to claim his usual hammock.

“Thanks, Olly,” Fenrir says, untensing his fists. “By the way, when’d you learn that trick with the roses? I almost forgot you wanted to go for the whole nature magic theme.”

“You know me! I’ve been sneaking away to get some private practice in. I’ve got other tricks to show you, too. Plus, I thought getting better at using vines to bind people would be useful with a certain somebody,” Oleander explains, running a finger up along Corwin’s back.

Fenrir, Serra, and Cassiel all look at Corwin’s face as he turns red enough to rival Cassiel’s usual blushing.