Shit, shit, shit, Gunnar thought, not daring even to breathe.

The steps approached slowly, thick feet thudding on the boards directly above him. Gunnar’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to dip below the surface of the water, but it was too late for that.

A voice cut through the stillness of the night.

“Elf…”

The voice was low and gravelly and sent shivers rushing over Gunnar’s body. Were they trying to lure him out of hiding, or did they actually know where he was?

“Elf, I know you’re down there.”

Gunnar was not sure whether his blunderbuss would work half-submerged in water, but it didn’t actually use gunpowder, and it was his last chance. He pulled it from his Inventory and raised the long barrel up towards the shadow above him.

“Oh, don’t you fucking think about offing me before you pay me. I freed your princess and helped you complete whatever quest you had going. Now, you’re going to return the favor.”

Gunnar breathed a sigh of relief. He hit the orc with Scan just to be sure.

Orc of the Night

Level: 12

HP: 120/120

MP: 70/70

Disposition: Cold, tired, and pissed

Description: The big girl kink you didn’t know you needed. She may be a creature of the night, but free of chains, she’s ready to rumble in plenty of other ways. She especially hates cheap skates!

“God,” Gunnar said, “I’m glad it’s you.”

“I spent the past ten minutes dripping wet and freezing my ass off waiting for those guards to accept our escape. Now, get up here.”

Gunnar took one last look at the dead mermaid beside him. He reached over and gently closed her eyes, then, swam out from under the safety of the dock. The orc had a big fishing net thrown over her shoulder and an oar in her hand.

“Figure we best look like we’re doing something productive out here.” She handed Gunnar the oar, and together, they walked as casually as they could off the dock.

The pre-dawn gloom was just beginning to break. There was some light traffic on the main dock, but no sign of Red Cloaks or Brutish Thugs. Apparently, it was no odd sight to find an elf and an orc drenched head-to-toe on the waterfront first thing in the morning, because no sailor gave them a second glance.

“No sign of my friend?” Gunnar whispered as they reached the end of the docks and ducked behind a warehouse of some sort.

The orc shook her head.

Em had still not responded to his DM either.

“Reckon that’s not my concern,” the orc said. “I’m grateful to be free of that hellhole, but I also realize the only reason I’m here is because you needed cargo transported, and I’m a big girl, and all of that. Otherwise, I’d join the fate of the rest of those girls.”

Gunnar grimaced but nodded. “Don’t guess many of them made it, did they?”

“Caught or killed, if I had to guess. Most probably surrendered the minute they got the opportunity, though I doubt it’ll be any better for the ones who survived. Sykes en’t been getting any less cruel since you came along.”

“Since I?”

“You gonna tell me you’re not the elf who’s got it out for Sykes? Word’s getting around.”

“Nope, that’s me,” Gunnar said, tempted to check his Renown status in his HUD then and there. In some games, that was an asset, but he was beginning to worry about gaining too much notoriety in this city.

For a moment, he’d considered offering the orc a spot amongst the Cryptids, but now, he wondered at the wisdom of that. This was supposed to be a low-profile heist, and he had no idea if he could trust this orc.

“Look, if I’m gonna make a new start, I’ll be needing something to start with. All I want is some honest payment, and I’ll be on my way. I don’t want no part of your beef with Sykes or these mermaids or your chimera, or any of it.”

Well, that makes the decision a little easier.

Gunnar pulled up a window showing the money pool for the Cryptids. There was only a couple hundred coins left, despite the loot from their crypt battle. But there was no way he was dipping into his personal stores, which were plenty low themselves. After all, this was a faction quest, and hadn’t been his damn idea at all.

“How’s a hundred coins sound?” Gunnar asked.

“That’ll do, and I’m keeping this blade.” She held up one of Em’s daggers.

“Fair enough.” Gunnar transferred the coins through a transaction window.

“All right, then. Reckon I’ll be on my way.”

The orc turned and strode into the growing traffic forming along the waterfront.

Gunnar was freezing more every minute since he’d gotten out of the already freezing water. He slumped against the warehouse wall, trying to ease his shivering.

Gunnar: Where the hell are you?

No answer. He was beginning to worry about Em. Had she been caught by the Red Cloaks or something?

Dawn came slowly, and then, all at once, and in an instant the wharf transformed from bustling workers to a large crowd of activity.

Gunnar’s heart leapt when a message pinged in his HUD, but instead of a response from Em, he found a message request.

[You have received a DM request from Keto. Do you wish to accept? Yes/No]

Resisting the urge to audibly groan—a fruitless act, since no one would hear it but himself—he accepted the message.

Keto: Brosef, where you two at? The ship’s leaving soon.

Brosef? Gunnar thought. Who the hell talks like that?

Gunnar: I don’t know where Em is. And I don’t know where the ship is either.

Keto: Ah shit, I thought you were two peas in a pod. Figured you must both be enjoying one last… Ha! Never mind… I’ll send you the location.

[You have received a Map Marker from Keto. Do you wish to accept? Yes/No]

The moment Gunnar accepted it, a red dot appeared on his MiniNav. The ship was across the harbor, nearly as far away as it could be on the same waterfront.

Keto: You sure you don’t know where she’s at?

Gunnar: I’ll let you know if I find her.

Keto: Alright bro! We embark in thirty minutes.

With a sigh, Gunnar set out into the crowd, the translucent arrows from his navigation system guiding his way. His clothes were still damp, and the sun was largely blocked out by sails and buildings at this hour, but at least he wasn’t dripping anymore. He drew his hood up and lost himself in the crowds, moving as quickly as possible without drawing any undue attention to himself.

He half expected some fancy warship, but the Nighthawk vessel looked to Gunnar to be no more than a rundown trading vessel.

Of course, a warship would be too cool for this game.

The sails seemed to sag as though the rigging could barely support their weight. No one on the docks so much as glanced at the disheveled dusk elf plodding up the gangway.

To Gunnar’s chagrin, Keto greeted him on deck. And there was still no sign of Em.

“Hey man, Niall’s jocks are riding halfway past his waist waiting around for you!”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Gunnar asked.

“He en’t happy. We leave, like, right now.”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Sure, and what about Em?” Keto asked.

“Right behind you, Big Keet!”

The man jumped as Em sidled up beside him, appearing suddenly from belowdeck.

“God! When the hell did you get here?”

“Yeah,” Gunnar said. He could have laughed at the expression on Keto’s face when she practically yelled her greeting in his ear. But he was not in the mood. Why hadn’t she returned his messages if she was safe?

Em, on the other hand, shrugged casually and grinned. “Just got here.”

“I’ve been keeping an eagle eye out for you two the past hour.”

“Well, you might want to get those eyes checked,” Em said, patting Keto on the shoulder.

The crew began hoisting sails and pulling planks back on board.

“Right,” Keto said. “Well, keep out of the way. We’ve got a meeting with the big man once we’re safely out at sea.”

“Big man,” Gunnar asked.

“Niall,” Em muttered.

Gunnar grimaced, recalling the man’s clear disdain for him.

“You got it,” Keto said. “I’ll see you two around.”

The man sauntered off with his best imitation of a strutting bird, at least from Gunnar’s point of view.

Em led the way belowdeck. “Saved you a hammock next to mine.”

Gunnar stopped her the moment they were down below. “What the hell?”

“What?”

“You disappeared for hours. I was worried you got caught or something. You made it all the way here, and you couldn’t send me a message saying you were okay?”

Em pulled up her HUD for a moment, apparently taking note of his multiple attempts at contact. “Sorry about that. I was kind of running for my life most of the time. And swimming. I dismiss all that notification shit during combat.”

Gunnar sighed. “Even the goddamn orc came back—granted she mostly just wanted to be paid—but you just disappeared.”

“Who do you think drew all those guards away, while you were hiding, huh?”

“I got shot. My mermaid died!”

Em didn’t immediately respond, but her gaze softened. “We completed the quest, and we didn’t get caught. That’s all that matters.”

“You think so, huh?”

They both spun at the voice.

Niall glowered at them, arms crossed over his chest. He wore a dark cloak and dark clothes with blades slung over his back, looking like he was heading out for an assassination, not a trip across the Altaean Sea.

“Can we help you?” Gunnar asked.

Niall rolled his eyes. “There was a break-out attempt at the Mermaid last night. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“A guy like Sykes has to have a few enemies,” Gunnar said.

“Not as many as you might think, Mr. Ashwood.”

Niall motioned toward what appeared to be the only separate room on this deck.

“We need to talk, both of you.”

The ship groaned and shifted as they eased away from the docks, and Gunnar’s stomach twisted as they followed Niall into his chambers.