“Tovric! Get your ugly mug in that window! We got an offer you can’t refuse!”

Eric couldn’t help but grin when a dozen hot-eyed glares turned his way as he shouted in the darkness, a good 20 yards from the entrance of the fortification, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife.

Maybe the piggish eyes glittering with feral intelligence widened from his bravado. Perhaps the roaring snarl was aimed at the perceived betrayal, as Rica stood plainly by his side just beyond the barrier of thinnest rawhide, only ten feet in front of them, as much as it was Eric’s choice of taunts.

Either way, Chieftain asshole and his cronies did not look happy.

Indeed, they looked ready to spill a shitload of blood. And the deadly killing intent radiating off the Classers guarding the entrance was enough that even Eric had to fight not to flinch, knowing damn well that in anything like a fair fight, any one of those assholes would put him through his paces if not cut him down like the overconfident idiot that he was. And two of those giant 9-foot tall bruisers working together would no doubt make short, grizzly work of him in seconds.

Good thing Eric wasn’t planning on fighting fair.

But only Tovric, assuming the massive orc now glaring through the oversized arrow slit holding a mewling child with surprising care in brutish arms, was in any position to catch sight of what lay beyond the rawhide partition in the ten-foot gap between barrier and a madly grinning Eric.

But before the second-in-command, whose eyes were widening with unexpected alarm, could say anything, the would-be chieftain was roaring Eric's way.

“There is his! The Midnight Shadow! The tool of the elves! Kill him now, wench! Cut him down while he stands beside you, or my second will send your child hurtling out the window this very second!”

Eric could instantly sense the tension in Rica’s frame. He could only imagine the terrible pressure she was in, and, frankly, was impressed as hell that she hadn’t surrendered. Because the emergency card he had up his sleeve was one he never, ever wanted to pull.

Not on a girl he could so easily fall for, given just a bit of sanity and time, neither of which was in plentiful supply, sadly.

But before the blowhard could say another word, before his half dozen monstrous sentinels could begin their death charge, Eric held up a prize that froze absolutely everyone in their tracks. Even Rica, who already had a bar of her own.

"Tovric! The True chieftain of this band, I'm here to make you an offer you can't refuse!" Eric smiled into the breathless silence. "An offer you won't want to refuse. One bar of pure 24 karat gold! 400 troy ounces! With a galactic value, I'm given to understand, of about 8 million credits!”

Tovric licked his tusks, saying words that had the chieftain below roaring in fury.

“What’s your offer?”

“No!” The chieftain roared in apoplectic fury. “How dare you address my second as if he were my superior? As if I weren’t even here? Men! Get me his head! Get me that bitch’s head! And get me that gold!”

Even Rica flinched and paled as six massive berserkers charged.

And she knew what was coming.

Eric wasted enough time only to yell to Tovric. "Hold that kid tight, new chieftain!"

Before stopping the bersekers’ charge for all time.

The night erupted with the roar of cannon fire as not one, but a full battery of bronze cannons erupted at once, jolting Eric and Rica despite the thick reinforced greater lizard bulwark also acting as a brace, Eric’s ears ringing like mad as he squinted against the brilliant flashes of smoke and flame as the half dozen roaring bestial orcs and the former chieftain behind them were transformed into bloody paste in the blink of an eye.

Eric heard an ominous crack from the keep’s foundation, a sudden cold surge of dread coursing down his spine.

Would orcs actually cut corners on keep construction? The very heart of their defensive doctrine? Even if it was Interface enhanced, a fusion of magic, the System, and the locked potential of the Earth itself?

Of course they would.

He swallowed his suddenly parched throat, trying not to wince under Rica’s deathly grip, knowing damn well she had heard it as well.

So Eric wasted no time.

"This gold bar is yours, Chief Tovric, as well as free passage for you and all your men in the keep! All you got to do, if you haven't figured it out already, is give Rica back her child and grandmother and get the fuck out without killing any more civilians. With that, you and yours are free to go wherever the hell you want, along with safe passage out of elven territory, free and clear!"

The chieftain glared at Eric for long moments.

Before wincing when another sharp retort could be heard echoing from the keep’s foundation.

The child in his arms screamed when the building lurched.

“Seriously?” Eric muttered aloud.

“What's in it for you?" The orc said at last. "Why should we trust you?"

Eric flashed his biggest shit-eating grin. The same one he'd wear when his mother was closing a major deal, hustling the hell out of competitors who had no idea just how well they'd been played. “Because I already got multiple titles taking out your closest neighbor forts with explosives! You get it, bossman? I already claimed the title Mad Bomber! And if I can convince you guys to leave peacefully… I’m willing to bet that’s another title right there!”

He used all of his finesse to flip the gold bar so high it hovered in the air just feet from the wide-eyed Chief Tovric. "In fact, I'm willing to bet 8 million credits on that hunch!”

The chieftain gazed at Eric for long moments before roaring with laughter. "Another damn scion. And all we are is pieces on your board!"

Eric smirked and shrugged, ignoring Rica’s surprised hiss. “Pretty much. But you’re a piece that will soon be filthy rich, if you make the right call. I already made a deal with the elves. They get this territory, you guys get to walk, and I can steal whatever the hell I like. And it just so happens that this bar is part of my take. The only question I have for you, chief, is are you interested in making 8 million credits worth of gold, or not?"

Harsh shouts could be heard behind the orc who glared at Eric for long moments before turning around and roaring back while his hostage sobbed in his arms, and Eric could sense it took everything for the girl by his side to just hold it together.

“Almost done,” he whispered to a trembling Rica. And he could only hope it was true, though the new chief’s words did give him hope.

“Shut up, fool! He’s part of the Sylvan Alliance. They don’t break their damn word. Only thing those assholes are good for!”

And much to Eric’s surprise, when the massive orc turned back to the window, instead of throwing the child straight down, Eric already readying himself for a mad sprint, Tovric gave a slow nod. "We're coming out! White flag of truce! But we're not giving up our weapons. White flag, we leave out the Northern gate, and take the road to Freetown. Elves leave us alone, and we won't fire a single damned round!"

Eric swallowed, clenching his jaw. It was the worst-case scenario that still allowed for a peaceful resolution, and Lady Valorn had cursed and spat when Eric mentioned the possibility. Eventually, Lord Drevyn had talked her into it.

At least they had predicted the right gate, the northern one leading right to Freetown.

Still, steps had to be taken.

"Do I have your word that you will enforce white flag status upon your men, as best you can, on your honor as chieftain and future elder?"

The dark green orc glared hate Eric’s way, curling its lip over a single tusk, before finally giving a nod.

“So long as those Elves don’t try to cut us down, my men will keep their muskets in careful hands,” he said at last.

"Fair enough," Eric said, before pulling out a lizard-hide horn and blowing a series of low, mournful notes and quick sharp blasts. Three of one, then three of the other, their agreed-upon code for an armed withdrawal.

"But you and your personal crew come out first! Top guys on the rooftop can stay until we trade child for gold. Of course, you can divide the bar with your men however you like.”

The chieftain, no fool, flashed Eric a cold smile at his comment, but all he said was, "Done deal."

And in surprisingly short order, with only a few tense moments when a full dozen monstrous orcs Eric was damn certain were level 25 and not an iota less, and why the hell had they been held in reserve so long? Left in tandem, radiating protective shield wards even Eric could spot. Wards that radiated so much crackling potential that Eric halfway wondered if those monsters, acting in perfect unison, could actually stop at least one round of grapeshot from the bronze 12-pounders.

And something in the fearsome titan’s smiles made it clear that they wondered as well.

But before anyone could get any bright ideas, two massive cast-iron cannons filled with champion-shredding ammo, their own ammo specifically made to kill high level elves who had no idea just how potent and accurate orc artillery could be, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, earning a full dozen guttural curses and a nervous smile from Tovric.

“Interesting trick.”

Eric smirked. “Isn’t it?”

“Those are ours, aren’t they?”

Eric flashed another too-bright grin. “No comment.”

The chieftain snorted. "You could kill us all right now, in the blink of an eye,” he said, carefully placing down the shrieking little girl who immediately dashed into the arms of her mother, swooping in like a protective lioness before sprinting in a wide arc back to Eric’s side. Then a woman who could only be the child's great grandmother abruptly sprung out of the chieftain's shadow, now hobbling at a surprisingly sprightly pace for their shelter as well.

Eric nodded a greeting as the old lady collapsed in her sobbing granddaughter’s arms. “Sure, I could unleash more charges than you could imagine in the blink of an eye, obliterating every single orc on the rooftop. A rooftop littered with a dozen of my shrapnel bombs.” He smiled as Tovric visibly blanched. “But if I did all that, what would my word be worth then?”

Tovric scowled. “No need to waste your cute bombs on us, boy. I’m sure there are all sorts of competitors a bloodthirsty scion like yourself could use them on. We’ll be leaving just as soon as I give my men the order.”

Eric nodded. “Then we will as well. I’ll make sure the words gets out. Just remember the price of breaking your word, chief, and rest assured, I will do the same.”

The orc’s snarl turned to a surprised blink when Eric and the people beside him faded into the night. Along with way too many cannons and the massive bulwark protecting them.

“What do we do now, Chief?” asked one of the guards as another roared for the rooftop men to make an orderly exit.

Tovric snorted. “Now we get the hell out of here. Elf boy could have a dozen cannons pointed at us from the shadows at any time. He made that damned clear.”

“Fucking scions from their fucking rich clans! Bending rules right and left. There’s no way he should be able to do all that!” Cursed another shield orc.

"Bah, who gives a fuck what those elites do? We're alive, that's all that matters," said another, before glaring at Tovric. "And you'd better be sharing… chief!"

Tovric flashed a toothsome smile. “With you guys, maybe. But not with the classless idiots still in the fort.”

The nearest guardian squealed with laughter. “Those fools will just be happy to get out of here alive, and will have you to thank for it. You'll make a fine chieftain, bossman!"

And whatever else was said Eric missed, their voices cut off as he, Rica, her daughter, and grandmother, whom Eric was presently carrying, raced through the sewers until finally arriving back in the bowels of the hotel. Rica's relieved smile became slack-jawed amazement when she found herself walking along clean hallways and well-lit corridors before being confronted with the unbelievable sight of a fully stocked and functioning fridge. Her wide-eyed daughter, who couldn't have been a day over two, eagerly claimed the carton of perfectly fresh milk Eric solemnly handed her.

“What do you say, Ria?”

“Thank you,” the little girl whispered.

Eric grinned. "You're quite welcome." He turned to her mother, choosing his words carefully. "Here, I know you're safe. Because whatever enchantments keep the power running and the fridge eternally stocked also make sure no one else even thinks to enter this way. And it wasn’t until I had boosted my stats quite a bit, particularly Soul Reserves and Willpower, that I even realized the oddity of my shelter having fresh food and power. But if you go any further, well, let’s just say that I found out that everything I say or do in my bunker is being recorded, so...”

Rica flushed, then quickly nodded. “No, I understand. Your inner sanctuary is sacred, and I’m guessing you have some way to speak to the elves.” She flashed a cheeky grin at his look. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious you’re connected somehow, right? And after what you did, risking so much for the sake of me and those I love...” She swept him up in a heartfelt hug, soft tender lips locking with his own for long sweet moments before she broke off a kiss that left Eric breathless.

“I’ll never be able to thank you enough,” she said, stepping back and stroking his cheek, before picking up her daughter and holding her close while the girl clung tightly to her. “You do what you gotta do. If you want, well, I guess we can wait for you here.”

Eric swallowed thickly, quickly nodding. "Totally! I mean… this is the perfect place to lay low and shelter until everything blows over topside, and things are stable, and you don't have to worry about… you know."

She nodded, and Eric quickly led them to an already prepared conference room, with bedding and snacks conveniently laid out, before showing a bemused Rica to the restroom. "So high-end, there's even a shower stall inside! Seems to auto clean the same as my bunker so… yeah, really, with that fridge? No reason not to stay here pretty much indefinitely."

“Either that, or dress up like any other survivor and slip out to Freetown that way.”

Eric nodded. “Exactly. But you should be safe, from any sort of Elven retribution, I mean. That part was promised in particular.”

“Glad to hear it,” she said with a smile, tears flowing freely from her eyes as her daughter sobbed and hugged her tight, the grandmother squeezing Eric’s hand with heartfelt gratitude as well.

"Thank you so much for rescuing my great-granddaughter… and my granddaughter as well," the woman said in broken English.

Eric smiled and wiped his face, momentarily too choked up to speak. Instead, he dipped his head. "I'm happy to help, grandmother. Please rest and eat whatever you like from the fridge."

With a final glance for Rica, now looking his way with soft amber eyes that made his cheeks blaze, he quickly darted out of the conference room and made his way back to his private bunker to give a rather breathless report to a hard-eyed Lord Drevyn, who nonetheless cracked a satisfied smile.

“Well done,” he said at last. “Lady Valorn has been informed, and contact has just been made. The tribe you negotiated with will be allowed free passage out of Gilton, so long as they don’t seek to engage or return.”

And before Eric could do more than smile and nod, his Interface was blinking with a new message.

Congratulations! Negotiation and Acting have both gone up 1 full Rank!

Because if it’s a choice between hundreds of hours of safe studying under a master actress, or gleaning perilous insights into the nature of man and beast under the iron sights of a hundred muskets, of course you’ll choose to dance with the fox!

For successfully negotiating both a hostage release and the withdrawal of over 100 enemy troops from a fortified keep, you have earned the lesser title:

Negotiator.

Title Boon!

Social Perception! - You may now use Perception in addition to Charisma to sense the meaning behind words and actions like never before!

What The Other Party Wants. - Above all else, you’re able to sense what others truly want in any negotiation!

Additional non-combat Professions will now be available to you! (You have declined to peruse the list at this time.)

Eric blinked, surprised despite himself to find that his bluff had actually worked. What he had said to provide the cover of self-interest, when his concern really had been saving Rica and Ria, turned out to have been an actual thing.

He really had earned a title for his feat, even if it paled in comparison to any of his other titles.

At least in terms of stat-boost rewards, not giving a single point, and any classes it might have opened were only non-combat professions.

But in terms of awakening an incredibly useful sixth sense? The ability to use his exquisitely high Perception to help read social cues and hopefully better sense the motivation behind people’s actions?

Priceless.

Because when Eric next glanced at the monitor displaying a concerned-looking Lord Drevyn, he sensed the tension in the man’s gaze like never before, just knowing that something wasn’t going according to plan.

More than that, that something was disastrously off.

Social Perception skillcheck successful!

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Lord Drevyn gazed at Eric for long moments, sweat visibly beading on his brow. Yet all he said was, "Let's just hope the final part of this operation goes smoothly, Eric. Our people could really use some good news, right now.”

Eric winced. "I claim no tribe," he reflexively said, as much a charm against losing his sweetest, deadliest perk as any real desire to avoid his family, who he actually missed quite a bit.

This earned a tired snort. “Of course not. So what are your plans now… Free Agent Eric Silver?”

Eric shrugged. “Take out a few more orcs. Then it's time for the biggest heist this world has ever seen."

Lord Drevyn’s snort turned to laughter. “What glorious moxie you have, boy!” He then furrowed his brow in consternation, because Eric was already gone.