The Arbiter
Copyright© 2025 by James Girvan
Chapter 37
“It’s like they’re off-grid hippies or some shit.” Robbie finally made his way back after two and a half fucking hours to report. “They got travel trailers and a doublewide and shit. From what I could hear they wanna trade their ‘dungeons’ between groups and have been cycling through them for about a year. Some of the fighter-class guys are level three but none of them seem all that militant. They smoke a lot of weed, poach some deer or fish from the area around camp and otherwise just rent the land from some farmer and generally live off the Silver they earn.”
“You think we should go meet them?” I asked, pretty sure that he’d be all for it, this sounded a lot like my original ‘Stoners’ team, just a bit more organized.
He smiled back. “Already done. Spoke to every one of them and they are all like: ‘sure man, got any Silver?’.
“So we’re buying our way in?”
He looked about dramatically. “Got any better offers recently?”
We didn’t but I hardly wanted to admit that my escape plan essentially consisted of me running away from my minder and forcing/bribing others to help me. “Alright then, as far as they know we’re just some travelling Hunters looking for a place to rest-up for a while. What’s the story with Sarah here?”
“Ummm ... injured Weapon we happened upon and took along with us? They don’t have a Healer, and her weapon isn’t a staff so they shouldn’t recognize her as one.” Robbie looked sheepishly at me, while (not discreetly) facing his mouth away from his pack mate.
“Alright, you two have trauma-bonded and are a couple. If she puts up a fuss we can blame it on that and you can try to calm her down. If she runs I’m stripping her stuff from her and letting her go. You wanna chase her go ahead but you’ll do it without that collar.” I warned him. This ‘Sarah’ girl might be a great addition to Robbie’s pack but if she puts up a fuss and won’t work with us I’m going to clean her out and turn her loose.
The guy frowned, “I’m sure she’s comfortable with me, she’ll stay with me.” It didn’t sound all that convincing.
I drove the shitbox down the road, Robbie pointing a hole in the trees with a few spots of gravel that could charitably be called a driveway. Interested faces under braided hair turned to follow our approach. I parked next to a few cars and one van that all looked to be the same vintage as the what I was driving. If the shitbox had feelings, I’d bet it’d feel like it was coming home.
I unbuckled and opened the door, stepping out with my best ‘big-dumb’ smile. All eight of them were visible, nobody had their weapons out yet and I took that as a good sign. Turning back I opened the door for Sarah and offered my hand, attempting to portray a caretaker to everyone watching this particular dance. She took it reservedly and I gently pulled her upright once both her bare feet were on the trampled grassy ground. “Who’s the treasurer?” I asked with exaggerated formality, guessing it would be the short blonde with short-cropped hair. She had more Silver than the rest of the divers combined at 41 but a far cry from my balance.
“I’m Grace, and we each share the Silver we earn in the portals equally.” A taller blond with brown eyes and twin braids said, extending out her hand. She was some sort of mage since she had a staff. From what Robbie said earlier I’d imagine she was a fire mage. The difference between what she just said about sharing and the Silver in the other blond’s inventory was information I’d use when it suited me best.
“Albio,” I shook the offered hand. She went a for ‘firm, but not trying to crush your hand’ and I immediately pegged her as confident hetero.
“Anna...” the shorter blond said, trying to break fingers with her grip like an angry bull dyke before stepping back. I ignored the signal and shook hands with the other six, three more girls and three more guys. The men were the frontmen, or ’grinders’ as they called it (long sword, short sword with shield, and flail) with the women as ranged weapons (two archers and another damned fire mage). The short angry blond I’d pegged as a thief straddled the line, having a spear which could do either grinding or support. The balance was wrong in this group though, not enough ‘frontliners’ and they didn’t break into two teams well.
It was too early to ask them about their dead friends, so I went the other route and pulled out seven of my (and one from the thief) Silver and lobbed one to each person.
“I know it’s a chore to have us just drop in here, but I want you to know that we appreciate it.” I used my best I’m sincere voice. That Silver was worth about three or four grand, we would see what it bought me.
We got a tour, five motor homes and a large double-wide that looked like it could have been part of a construction site once. The communal kitchen and eating area were in there with very utilitarian tables and chairs. I expected trash and waste piling up around the place, but oddly there was only a neat lineup of bags behind the ‘canteen’. “We have chore a rotation, if you’re here; you’re in it. It’ll be nice to share the work about more hands.” Our diminutive tour guide ‘Amy’ said. This one was a brunette archer, young and gave off the air of being clueless. Probably assigned to tour us so that the others could talk about us privately.
“Sign me up for the worst job, I want you to know I’ll pull my weight while I’m here.” I said with a smile. There couldn’t be anything here that was worse than what I’d dealt with at Xavier’s, and it’d buy me some credit. “I promise I’ll wash my hands as best as I can.” I directed toward the girl, she had no rings on and it’d been a while for me so I started laying some groundwork. Amy smiled and I started to like my odds here.
We moved our meger possessions into two spare rooms and had a nap. I was under no illusions that we were ‘safe’ but until they got what they wanted from us nobody would try anything. My room was basically a closet at the end of one of the trailers but with any luck I’d spend my nights somewhere else. If they had planned on hiding the fact that they’d lost teammates, then they did a brutal job of it. Everywhere there were empty spots that we just slipped into. Unused lockers with extra coveralls and boots (both way too big for me), empty seats in the canteen and of course those empty bedrooms. Surprisingly it was Robbie who brought it up.
“Eight seems like an odd number of Weapons to be camping out near a portal.” He dropped into the middle of a campfire conversation. The eleven of us had toasted hotdogs on sticks like we were at scout camp and roasted potatoes in tinfoil. Not exactly high-class but I liked how it reminded me of the times my family had attempted camping when I was young. It always seemed to rain whenever I was under a tent though, so the practice never really continued once I got a say in it. I’d always liked the campfire bit though.
Robbie had already mentioned that this group was a mixed-bag with respect to their level. I recalled him saying that some of the frontliners were level three. Silence reigned, the snapping and hissing of the fire pit the only sounds for a few moments.
“This some sort of training program? You ‘Power-levelling’ Weapons here?” Robbie asked into the silence, “You five look like high-level fighters while these three don’t.” I couldn’t tell if he really believed that or he was just giving them an ‘out’ if they didn’t want to discuss it. It was a pretty slick move actually, I wouldn’t have expected it from him.
Two of the guys actually laughed. Jimmy and Bryan were the Greatsword and Flail, and Robbie had pointed them out as the Level three guys in the group.
“Nah,” Jimmy commented. “Wish it was like that but it ain’t.”
“There places like that?” Bryan asked, basically at the same time as his partner.
“Oh yea, rich folk with their new, perfect little Weapon. Johnny or Barbie’s mommy and daddy pay big bad dudes like you to drag the little brat through portals to level them up. Throw a few points into their Intelligence Stat and it basically guarantee the little shit will get the ivy-league education and the family business, or bank, or whatever continues to dominate their rivals and their employees for another generation.” I threw in there. This was all rumour and speculation and the Norms were furious about this, but then again there was fuck-all they could do about it.
“Far as I can figure it, the only ones that should get that sort of treatment is the Healers.” Jimmy spat, and I’d bet that there was a story there. He had lit a joint and held out an arm to pass it over. I fought the urge to steal his weapon as he leaned well into striking range though not in a threatening stance. We didn’t know these people well, and I was still on guard even if Rob had given them his personal blessing. Taking the hand roll, I pulled in a medium drag and held it, unsure of how strong this stuff would be and caught an approving nod from Jimmy as I passed it quickly on to Ellen. She sniffed it and passed it on silently.
“So you’re not into levelling noobs, you look like a cross between transient campers and a commune. What exactly is this group about?” I asked, blowing smoke out and looking about as the joint made its way past Robbie (who passed, I noted).