Multiple Game messages awaited my attention, and I perused them quickly.

Your insight has increased to level 26. Your telekinesis has increased to level 7. Your telepathy has increased to level 13. Your chi has increased to level 9. Your sneaking has increased to level 39. Your dodging has increased to level 26.

Warning! Your psi is at 10%. Warning! Your health is at 80% and will not recover without healing.

I had to meditate and restore my psi at some point, but first I had to loot the bodies and put some distance between me and the guard post. My health, I couldn’t do anything about, not until I found a healing potion.

I looted the two fighters first, and between them managed to put together a full and undamaged leather armor set.

You have equipped a set of basic leather armor. This item set reduces the physical damage you sustain by: 15%, and based on your current light armor skill penalizes your Magic and Dexterity by: 45%. Current modifiers: Dexterity skills and abilities limited to rank 4.

The mages carried nothing of value to me, not even a coin pouch. Still their robes and wands were possibly of use to Morin and Tantor, and I stripped the bodies of both.

Martin’s dagger and sheath I took as well, even though the weapon was of limited use to me.

You have acquired 1 basic steel dagger. You lack the proper skill to wield this item. Weapon bonuses will not be received and weapon-based abilities will be disabled. Abilities can only be used with a weapon with which you are proficient.

I added Darnell’s longsword to the items I took from the mages and bundled the pile together. Carrying the bundle on my back, I headed back up the passage and concealed myself. Then sitting down, I began to meditate.

~~~

Meditation completed. Your psi is now at 100%. Your meditation has increased to level 24.

A short while later, I opened my eyes. I had finished meditating without being disturbed and my psi was fully restored. About to rise to my feet, a patch of white attracted my notice.

It was Gnat. The familiar was back.

I turned his way, feeling sudden trepidation as I wondered about the message he carried. “The Master wishes to speak to you directly,” Gnat said without preamble. “I will act as his conduit.”

Before I could respond, a cloud of dense black formed beneath the skeletal bat’s hovering form.

“Michael,” a softly spoken voice called through the swirling darkness. It was the Master. “Gnat tells me you wish to bargain?”

“I do,” I replied, straining to keep my voice firm.

“And what makes you think I would be interested in a deal with you?” the Power asked, coldly amused.

You’re here, aren’t you? I thought, but didn’t voice the words out aloud. “I will bind myself to the Dark,” I said instead, ignoring his question altogether, “in exchange for your non-interference while I pursue my vengeance.”

“Revenge,” the Master mused. “It is a worthy goal for a Darksworn.”

“Then we have a deal?”

The Power did not reply immediately. The dark cloud from which his voice emanated pulsed ominously while I waited in anxious silence. “No,” the Master said at last.

“No?” I repeated, my heartbeat quickening. Why not? I wanted to rant, but managed to restrain myself. What would I do if the he refused to deal?

“It is not enough,” the Master said.

“Then what is?” I asked tersely.

“Your allegiance, sworn directly to me.”

Dread curdled in me. The Master was asking for more than I’d bargained. I’d knowing venturing down this path would be risky, but there was no backing out now. I had no illusions. If I didn’t manage to strike a deal with the Power, I fully expected to be dead within the hour.

“If I do as you ask, will you give me the freedom to do what I must?” I asked. This is madness, an inner voice protested. I ignored it.

“I will not stay my hand indefinitely,” the Master replied. “I will give you twelve hours only. “Will that suffice?”

A vein throbbed at my temple. Twelve hours? Would it be enough? It will have to be. I nodded slowly.

“Excellent,” the Master said, his voice still emotionless. “Step forward and place your hand in the cloud then, and I will form the Pact between us.”

I hesitated. How much did the Power want this deal? Up to this point, his manner had given nothing away. But that he was here indicated more than a modicum of interest. How much room do I have to maneuver? I exhaled softly. “Not yet,” I said.

The black cloud stilled. “Do not toy with me, boy,” the Master replied, the first edge of anger entering his voice. “I am here at your behest. If you refuse my bargain, you will not enjoy the consequence.”

“I have a counter-proposal,” I said hurriedly.

For a drawn-out moment there was no response. “Go on,” the Master said finally.

“I will accept your time limit,” I said, speaking rapidly. “But I have a condition of my own. Our Pact will only be valid while I remain in the sector.”

The Master laughed. “You think to escape the dungeon?”

There was no point denying the truth. “If I can.”

“How?” the Master asked, sounding genuinely curious. “I can see that you carry no Dark Mark. The portal will not open for you. And lest you think to purchase a Dark Class from my merchants, they’ve been instructed not to sell to you.”

So even the deal that Stayne offered me was rigged, I thought. I shrugged. “Still, I will try. Are we in agreement?”

“What of your vaunted vengeance?” the Master asked.

“I will pursue it too,” I said, allowing my determination to show.

The Master chuckled. His attention seemed to shift upwards. “Do you believe him?”

“I do, Master,” Gnat replied.

“Do we have a deal?” I repeated.

The Power was silent for a moment. “We do. Step forward and I will seal the Pact between us.”

My nerves tingling, I placed my hand in the dark cloud. A game message opened in my mind.

Initiating a Pact between the Power known as the Master and the player, Michael…

~~~

Agreeing upon the exact wording of the Pact took longer than expected.

The initial phrasing was at the Master’s direction. I found it too vague and outright rejected the proposal. To my surprise, the Power did not protest my refusal and before I could blurt out a hurried explanation, a new Pact appeared in my mind, one whose revised wording I found far more palatable.

I accepted immediately.

Only for the Master to refuse the proposal.

It turned out that the process of forming a Pact was mediated by the Adjudicator. It made me wonder if I could have altered the original terms of the Pact formed between Gnat and me, but I suspected the Master would not have allowed me any leeway then.

It took several iterations, but finally the Master and I reached consensus on a Pact whose terms we both found agreeable.

You have sealed a Pact with the Power known as the Master. The terms are as follows: For the next twelve hours, all players and creatures sworn in service to the Master are forbidden from attacking you. This only holds true while you take no hostile action against said creatures and players. At the end of the allotted time, if you remain in sector 14,913, you will swear allegiance to the Master and the Pact will be fulfilled. Alternatively, if you leave the sector any time before the allotted time, the Pact will also be considered fulfilled.

This Pact may not be terminated by either party. Once the Pact has been fulfilled a 7-day non-aggression Pact will be enforced between the parties.

The non-aggression Pact had been the biggest sticking point—I had wanted a year, the Master, none—but finally, seeming to be annoyed by the entire process, the Master had agreed. Once the Pact was sealed, he vanished immediately leaving me alone with Gnat again.

“Phew,” I muttered and wiped the sweat from my brow, feeling drained.

“You play a dangerous game,” Gnat murmured. “If you somehow escape pledging yourself to the Master, he will not let you go. He will hunt you down and his punishment will be merciless.” Gnat’s luminous white eyes pulsed. “Believe me Michael, you don’t want to experience the Master’s wrath.”

I nodded wholehearted agreement. I had gotten what I was after though, even if the consequence of failure was a bit more than I had bargained for.

Twelve hours to kill Saben and Sigmar, and find a way out of the sector. It was not a lot of time, but it would have to be enough.

I rose to my feet. It was time to get to work.

~~~

I returned unseen to the safe zone cavern first, and dropped the bundle of looted items down the crater at the same spot from which I emerged. That way if the worst befell me, then at least Tantor and Morin would have something to work with.

Having done what I could for the pair, I raced through the north passage, only slowing down when I reached the gang’s camp.

Concealed in the darkness and ready to flee at a moment’s notice I crept into the cavern. Saben’s original gang had numbered about seventy, and given the two dozen in the safe zone cavern and the four guards I had just killed, that still left as many as forty unaccounted for—which was a lot for little old me to take on my own.

Of course, some of those forty had probably not been resurrected after suffering final death in the earlier battle. The problem was I had no way of knowing how many that could be, and had to be prepared for the worst.

But after long moments of scrutinizing the gang’s camp, I realized it was empty. I frowned. Where was everyone? I expected to find at least a token guard in the cavern, but it was to all appearance completely deserted. With nothing to hold me back, I slipped into the camp, passing silent rows of tents and dead campfires. At the camp’s center, I paused.

Equipment of all type and sorts had been piled high in a large heap. Where the gear had come from was no mystery. It had to have been looted from the dead. I was surprised, though, that no one was guarding it. I studied the surroundings with a wary gaze, but spotted nothing that smelled of a trap. I inched closer to the discarded equipment.

Still nothing jumped out of me.

I shrugged and, accepting my good fortune for what it was, began rifling through the pile. It became apparent pretty soon that all the gear in the heap were basic starter items, which partially explained why it had been left unguarded. Still, I managed to get another serviceable sword, and a belt with potion slots on it.

You have acquired a basic steel shortsword. This item increases the damage you deal by: 10%.

You have acquired a slotted-potion belt. This item can hold up to: 10 potion flasks.

Of course, there were no potion flasks on the belt itself, but I hadn’t lost hope yet of recovering my lost gear. Discarding the dagger I had been carrying, I sheathed my new shortsword and felt new confidence fill me now that I was properly armed again.

Straightening, I considered my next move. The tunnel to the east was where I had to go to find Bornholm’s people. Given my time limit, I needed to hurry, and my first instinct was to head directly that way.

But almost of my own volition, my eyes were drawn west, in the direction of Saben’s chambers. If my backpack was to be found anywhere it was likely there. While time was of the essence, I knew I could not afford to die again. The eight hours spent resurrecting alone would wipe out two thirds of my deadline. And more than anything else, I needed my healing potions.

Searching Saben’s chambers shouldn’t take long. An hour, no more. Then I’ll go looking for Bornholm.

Decided, I slipped into the western tunnel.

~~~

The passage to Saben’s chambers was just as deserted as the camp. Even so, when I reached the first strands of spiderwebs, I redoubled my efforts at caution. I was not about to be caught out by the same trick again.

Halting every few steps, I prodded the silk strands with my swords and confirmed nothing lurked beneath. My caution proved unnecessary though. The webs were empty. But three feet from Saben’s chamber, a booming laugh broke the silence, giving me fresh cause for concern.

I froze.

The laughter was shocking loud, and appeared to be coming from within the chamber. “You idiot! Stop fooling around!” a voice growled.

“You should have seen your face,” another said.

I frowned. The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“That was childish,” the first protested.

“It’s your own fault,” the second pointed out. “You shouldn’t have dozed off.”

My eyes widened, finally recognizing the speaker. It was Markus. My lips tightened in an unpleasant smile. It was time for payback.

“I was not sleeping!” the first protested.

Bracing my back against the chamber’s entrance, I peered carefully around the edge of the wall.

“You were!”

Markus and another gang member I didn’t know were alone inside. They were guarding a small pile of looted equipment and appeared oblivious of my presence.

I took my time and rechecked the cavern. I still didn’t detect anyone else. I tightened my grip on my swords, wondering if this was some sort of trap. But a trap here didn’t make sense. For all Saben and Sigmar knew, I was still stuck in the safe zone.

I slipped inside the room, exploiting the thugs’ distraction. Given that there were only two enemies, I didn’t bother with charm. Drawing on my psi, I cast one-step as I closed the distance.

I was still a few yards away from the pair, when Markus spotted me out of the corner of his eye. His head whipped around and his eyes widened.

“You should see your face,” I murmured in mockery of his earlier words. I didn’t give him time to react though and dashed forward.

The gang member fumbled for his still-sheathed blade, but before he could draw it, I lunged and buried my sword in his throat. I withdrew the blade, and Markus fell lifelessly to the floor.

I sensed a weapon rushing down on me from my right. I sidestepped, evading the blow. The thug attacked again, swinging his broadsword in a mighty arc. I dodged the second attack just as easily, but instead of darting in to seize the glaring opening my opponent had left, I stepped back. “Can we talk?”

The thug snarled and lunged at me in response.

I slipped past the blow with laughable ease. “Look, if you tell me what I want, I’ll let you go.”

Once more, I was ignored. Hefting his broadsword above his head, my foe brought it crashing down—on empty ground. I was long gone.

I sighed from behind the fighter. He really wasn’t any good, and even though he was in full chainmail I foresaw no problems with disarming him. But given the thug’s reticence, I suspected I would have to question him quite harshly to get the information I needed.

Thinking about what I might need to do made me a little queasy, but I didn’t let it deter me. If I was going to take down Saben’s gang, I needed to know more about their numbers and whereabouts. I had other reasons too. Reasons less certain, but no less important.

Enough of this, I thought. Dashing forward, I touched one of my blades to the fighter, crippling his arm and causing him to lose hold of his sword. Dropping my second blade, I stun-slapped the thug, then rammed my shoulder into him.

The fighter stumbled, but didn’t fall. I repeated the maneuver and this time, he fell face forward. Before he could recover, I straddled my foe’s body and proceeded to beat at his skull with the pommel of my sword, only stopping, when he fell unconscious.

~~~

The fighter—his name was Jorin—came too to find he had been stripped of his armor, and that his hands had been tied together.

“Ready to talk now?” I asked, from my position across him.

A hard stare was my only response.

“Where is the rest of your gang?”

He glared back silently.

“How many men does Saben have?”

No response.

I sighed. “It’s better if you cooperate. Don’t doubt that I won’t resort to harsher measures if necessary.”

“Do your worst,” Jorin spat. “Hurt me as much as you wish, I won’t talk!”

“Oh, I’m not going to hurt you,” I replied evenly. “You’re going to do that all by yourself.”

A frown flitted across his face, before he replaced it with a sneer. “You’re some sort of fool, or what?” he mocked.

“Maybe I am,” I murmured. Forgoing further banter, I drew on my psi and cast simple charm.

Jorin has failed a mental resistance check! You have charmed your target for 10 seconds.

Yanking on the mental leash I held around his mind, I directed Jorin’s attention to one of the chamber’s walls. “Run,” I ordered.

The fighter staggered to his feet, and obedient to my will, ran full tilt towards the solid, rock wall. He hit hard, and I winced at the impact. As Jorin collapsed to the floor, the expected Game message dropped into my mind.

You have taken hostile action against your minion! Control of target lost.

Rising to my feet, I approached the dazed fighter and knelt by his side. He gazed up at me, his eyes still unfocused.

“Now,” I said gently, “if I can make you do that, imagine what else I can force you to do.”

It was all a lie of course. The simple charm spell didn’t allow me to direct my minions to self-harm. The imperative for self-preservation was too strong to be overcome by such a basic spell. The best I could manage was to make Jorin indirectly injure himself. But I was betting Jorin knew none of this.

Jorin blanched, finally comprehending my threat. “W-w-what did you do to me?”

“Mind control,” I said succinctly. “Shall we find out what else I can do?” I asked, letting a cruel smile dance on my face.

The fighter just stared back at me, his face white.

“Still won’t talk? Oh well.” I rose to my feet. “Let’s try this again.”

Jorin’s eyes bulged. “No! Wait, please! I’ll tell you whatever you want. Just don’t do that again!”

I smiled coldly. “Good, then let’s begin.”