Day Three. Morning.

After a few minutes, the watching goblins grew bored and moved off about on their business, deciding to ignore my presence entirely—which suited me just fine.

I needed less than a minute thereafter to hide.

Then I waited.

And waited.

Amazingly the searching players still hadn’t caught on that I was no longer on the wall. It took them five more minutes to reach that conclusion, and by the time they did, I was bored to bits. A little later, they gathered near the gate to confer. Sneaking closer, I stretched out flat on the roof of a nearby barracks and listened in. I couldn’t see the players, but I didn’t need to.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you! Your sneaking has increased to level 46.

“Did you find him?”

“Has he fled?”

“The bloody wretch!” another swore. “He must have. No one is foolish enough—”

“No,” a different voice declared. “He is still in the fort. I have the shaman’s word on it.”

“Then where is he?” a player whined.

“The shaman wouldn’t tell me,” the same commanding voice said again, and I marked him as their leader.

While the players speculated on my whereabouts, I considered what I’d overheard. The Howlers were not being completely neutral, but on the other hand, they were being careful about what help they extended to the hunters.

Best I avoid the shaman.

The players were still talking, the one in charge rattling off orders for the others to search the fort. Listening with half an ear, I cast mindsight.

Psi rippled outwards from me, flooding the space around me to reveal every consciousness within ten yards. The minds of the nearby goblins and players burned more brightly than that of the simple animals I’d observed before and were easily identifiable.

My attention focused on the immediate area around the gate, taking a tally of my foes. There were twenty players. Reaching out to the bubbles of awareness hovering in my mindsight, I analyzed them, one by one.

The target is Mersey, a level 48 human. She is a player and bears a Mark of Lesser Dark and a Mark of Ishita.

The target is Forsyth, a level 67 human. He is a player and bears a Mark of Minor Dark and a Mark of Ishita.

The target is Tuxai, a level 59 lizardman. He is a…

…

Your insight has increased to level 42.

The players all were between rank four and seven and marked by both the Dark and Ishita. None, though, bore a Mark of Erebus. I’d made doubly sure of that.

I rubbed my chin, measuring the odds. Thankfully none of the four red-robed mages that guarded the portal were present, but the group was both larger and more experienced than I expected. Taking them on would not be easy. Still, it was… doable.

And besides, I need the money.

“Does everyone know what to do?” The speaker was Forsyth, the one I had identified as the group’s leader.

The players were about to disperse, and if I was going to act, now was the time. Reaching a decision, I cast simple charm on the lowest-ranked player, a level forty-one dwarf. My psi flooded his mind, and I wrenched control of him.

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

Excellent. Ordering the dwarf forward, I directed him to attack his closest companion. Through the mental link binding us together, I sensed my minion unsheathe his axe and bury it into the gnome standing at his side.

Tencil has died.

Hidden on the roof, I grinned. Perhaps the encounter would be easier than I expected. Chaos ensued amongst the players, and orders were shouted.

“Goddammit, don’t forget he is a mindstalker!”

I urged my minion towards his next target, but before he took a step towards the human on his right, something unexpected happened.

You have lost control over Redbeard. Forsyth has dispelled your casting.

Redbeard dropped to his knees, and I heard him rage, “Where is he? Point me to him! I’ll kill him!”

“He must be close by,” Forsyth said, ignoring the dwarf as he addressed the rest of the group. “Remember, he needs of line of sight to cast that charm spell,” Forsyth said. “Go find him!”

My lips turned down. The players were well prepared and had reacted quicker than expected to counter my spell. They also knew about my abilities, but their knowledge thankfully seemed incomplete. With mindsight, I did not need to see my targets to charm them.

Still, Forsyth was not wholly wrong: I was close by.

The group was moving to search the area, and once more, I debated my next move. Did I try charming another or fleeing? But I suspected any charm I cast now would be countered even quicker than the first. Fleeing didn’t seem a good option either.

The players were spread out all around the barracks, and if I left the roof, I was certain to be spotted. What had seemed a secure haven was turning into a trap.

Now what?

~~~

I decided to stay put.

There were other abilities I could try using to escape, but after the failure of my charm spell, I was wary about using them, uncertain if the group had a counter ready. And who knew, with luck, no one would think to check the roof of the buildings.

Unfortunately, luck was not with me.

“You two,” Forsyth ordered, “climb that building and check above!” He muttered something else under his breath, which my sharp ears easily picked up on. “The bastard climbs about as well as a monkey.”

I ground my teeth in frustration. So much for hiding.

Moving with deliberate care, I drew both my blades. Then I readied my voice and cast ventro. Projecting my words to appear as if originating from a spot far to my left, I spoke, “You fools looking for me? Well, here I am. Come and get me!”

The hunters spun about, orientating themselves on the projected voice.

“There he is!”

“I don’t see him, do you?”

“Yes! He’s hiding behind that building!”

“After him!” Forsyth ordered.

I smiled. It was working. Straining my ears, I listened to the sounds of the players’ receding footsteps. Not all of them went, though. One pair of boots was approaching the barracks. I tightened my hands on my blades. One I could handle.

I heard another player pause. “Wizel aren’t you coming?”

“It will be easier to spot him from the barrack’s roof,” Wizel replied. “You go on, Carr. I’ll keep an eye out from here.”

Carr’s footsteps faded away as she hurried after the others while Wizel, grunting with effort, began clambering up the sides of the barrack. Blades in hand, I crawled towards him.

I could have slipped down the other side of the building, of course, but this was too good an opportunity to pass by. Reaching the spot where I expected the player to appear, I waited.

A rash of red hair appeared above the edge of the roof. Not hesitating, I rose from my crouch and plunged my swords downwards into the hapless player.

You have killed Wizel with a fatal blow.

The corpse dropped like a stone. I followed after it, landing lightly atop the body. Crouched down on my haunches, I scanned the area. None of the other players had noticed my kill. The goblins, though, watched curiously.

Ignoring them, I reached down and yanked a coin pouch off the corpse. There was no time for further looting.

Hurrying to the other dead player—the one Redbeard had killed—I patted him down and took his money too, before turning right and disappearing into the surrounding buildings.

You have acquired 2 coin pouches.

~~~

It did not take the players long to realize they had been tricked. Their faces contorted in rage, my pursuers flooded back to the area around the gate, searching for me. Finding Wizel’s corpse only infuriated them further.

From a much safer distance this time, within the shadows of a darkened entrance, I waited to see what they would do. Forsyth divided the others into groups of four, each accompanied by at least one mage. Then the teams of four spread out to search the fort. None headed in my immediate direction, and I felt secure enough to keep watching.

Only Forsyth and one other player remained near the gate. The pair approached the goblins guarding the exit to the safe zone and fell into an animated argument with them. I was too far to hear what they were saying, but it sounded as if the players were trying to get goblins to open the gate—which the guards steadfastly refused to do.

I’d seen enough. Slipping away and taking care to remain out of sight of the searching player parties, I made my way to the fort’s outer gate.

Unfortunately, it, too, had been locked.

I cursed softly. One of the hunting parties was loitering near the outer gate. They were clearly waiting for me to show myself.

I wondered what had happened. Had the shaman countermanded the orders of the squad leader I had spoken to on the wall, or had the squad leader simply lied to me?

It didn’t matter, though. I had no intention of leaving the fort just yet. Slipping back into the shadows, I began a hunt of my own.