The Rifleman - Bk1 - Ch.15

Chapter 15

Taking Risks

“Bullshit!” Pru yelled.

Wesley had thought quite a bit about how to answer Mace’s question before he actually started talking. His first instinct, and second, and third, was to lie. 

Malia’s warning, Gem’s betrayal, and worse, a clear attempt to shove him out to a distant area to protect herself, even if it cost him his life, all argued to follow the safest and most sensible course of action. 

Which, in this case, meant lying his ass off.

He knew nothing about these people. The stories they had just told him could be nothing more than well-crafted fiction meant to portray them as they wanted him to see them. It would be a relatively simple task to fudge the details, stretch the timelines, and tell them something that was close enough to the real story as would make no difference, right?

That was the smart thing to do—the safest course of action.

Maybe.

His hesitation came from his experiences with others in this strange game world: a farmer who gave him food and a place to sleep in relative safety and a group of villagers who distrusted outsiders but went out of their way to ensure he got that strange Claim skill. An archer in the middle of a battle taking a chance to trust him when, let’s face it, she didn’t really have any reason to. Those events had been making him think for the last few days that his mindset was wrong for this world.

In the long run, he had to trust someone sometime. 

So, he told the truth.

It was crazy, stupid, and a massive risk that made his insides curl up in anxiety as he spoke, but Wes Lancaster told this strange group the whole tale, from start to finish. The only thing he held back was Gem’s name. He owed the Necromancer nothing, but Wesley had said he wouldn’t tell anyone… so he didn’t.

It wasn’t about Gem; it was about him.

“Bullshit!” Pru yelled.

Wes had just gotten to the point where he had fallen through the portal with the wisp attached to him and ended up with it as his totem. Mace waived her back down, and the grumbling Priestess settled down until he finished his story with Malia’s warning and an Officer in the Guild taking a dislike to him and assigning him to the Wyrd Watchmen before shoving him straight through the portal.

Everyone was quiet for a few minutes, each one seeming lost in their thoughts.

“I don’t believe you have a wisp totem,” Pru said eventually. “Prove it.”

Wes lifted his tunic, letting them see the tattoo for themselves.

“Fuck me,” Pru gasped. “All that really happened?”

“People do, occasionally, tell the truth,” Mace said, his voice strangely tense. “But I have to ask why you told us.”

“You told me,” Wesley said. “And I figure I have to trust someone, right?”

“I believe Mace was asking why you chose to trust us,” Pris added calmly. “We hardly seem the most likely choice.”

“You told me your story,” Wes said. “I won’t say I didn’t think about lying because I did.” He swallowed. “But what good would it do? I mean, in the long run. None of you needed to tell me anything about you. I’m just the new guy. Probably a temp. But you shared, so I returned the trust in kind.”

Silence reigned; the only sound was the wood crackling in the fire. 

“Trust isn’t something we get often,” Mace said eventually. “None of us even expect it anymore.” He sighed. “Look. I don’t know if you will fit with this team; maybe you join, maybe you don’t.” Mace shrugged, a very expressive gesture with his massive shoulders, “But you should know we won’t forget the gift you gave us tonight.” 

With that the group pretty much broke up, everyone heading off to their own little tents and sleeping areas. Pris was the last to go.

“They all miss being trusted, you know,” she said to him. “I never really had those memories to miss, so it doesn’t affect me as much.” She smiled. “They may look sad right now, but I promise you they will treasure this memory.”

Wes retreated to his own spot. It wasn’t much, just his tarp covering the ground and his trusty pack as a pillow. He stared up at the sky overhead and wondered if he had really made the right choice by telling them the truth.

The same feeling of risk that had made him hesitate before came back in spades now. Still, what was done was done. There was no going back now.

Strangely, he was quite proud of himself. Telling them the truth had felt good. He had been so on guard since he arrived here, so careful, and so often left feeling like a heel for not trusting someone. 

It had felt good to put aside his suspicious nature and cynicism for once and take a leap of faith. Maybe it would end well, and maybe it wouldn’t.

Either way, Wesley felt proud of himself and happy for the first time as he drifted off to sleep.

////////////////

They all naturally woke long before dawn, and Wesley was willing to be he was the last to wake by a fair margin. The others were all murmuring or fiddling with their equipment in the darkness while they waited for the sun to rise. 

Wes stretched, practicing his forms as much as he could in the small space he had, and then sat down to a breakfast of travel rations and water. It wasn’t the best stuff, being mostly dried meat and vegetables with some kind of hard-wearing bread that was kind of like an actual loaf of bread placed into an industrial press until it was the size of a Twinkie. 

Pris was the first to come over to talk, bringing her plate, cutlery, and a delicate lacework napkin with her.

“May I join you for breakfast?” She asked.

“Sure,” Wes smiled as she sat and began to delicately nibble at what appeared to be a plate of pickled fingers.

“I have to say I still find your ease with my eating habits strange, despite what you told us last night,” Pris admitted. “Did you work with the dead in your world?”

“Not at all,” Wesley admitted with a laugh. “However, we had a lot of movies about the dead, living dead, and similar. Movies are like plays, but pre re–” He stopped for a second, “Doesn’t matter; the point is, we had people who were dedicated to making incredibly real-looking fake versions of dead bodies and parts. The more explicitly dead, the better. I was always fascinated by it, so the sight of dead bodies, parts of bodies, and even eating of those bodies is something I have seen since I was a child.”

“You witnessed the killing and eating of people as a child?” Pris looked stricken.

“It was all pretend, and I was aware it was fake. I even knew how some of it was done.” Wesley reassured her. “In short, I lost my revolution to body parts a long time ago.”

“I see,” Pris said. “So my eating habits remind you of that?”

“Not at all,” Wesley smiled warmly, “Your manners and eating habits are impeccable.” He winced, “The ones I saw were more… visceral?”

“Thank you,” She smiled, “Putting my habits aside, I realize my promise to eat you if you die must have seemed strange.”

“A little,” Wesley admitted. “But your tone was clearly kind.”

Pris preened slightly.

“Do you know what happens to your body if you die and it is looted?” She asked.

“No idea,” Wesley admitted. It had never occurred to him to wonder.

“It is put into a pool of corpses to be randomly spawned for the use of Necromancers, undead, and the like,” Pris said carefully. 

Wesley saw visions of his own body in a pile of the dead, raised by someone like Gem. It was not a pleasant idea. Neither was his own face stretched and bloated over some behemoth like he faced in the dungeon.

“I see,” Wesley swallowed. “Thank you for telling me, and if I do die, I would definitely appreciate being eaten before that could happen.”

Pris nodded and returned to her meal. The two of them ate in companionable silence for a while. 

They were all packed up and ready to go the moment the sun, or rather light, rose. More hours of climbing narrow carved stairs led them to about halfway up the massive cliff face and another outcropping. A long, wide tunnel was dug deep into the side of the cliff, and the group stopped to get their weapons ready before entering. 

“Everyone knows the plan?” Mace asked.

“I don’t,” Wesley said apologetically. “I was assigned, then shoved through the portal.”

“No problem,” Mace said. Thank you for speaking up. I’d rather answer a hundred questions than put someone unprepared in danger.”

Wesley nodded his understanding.

“We were hired to clear a dungeon in this zone. It is a new one, so we have no idea what is inside, but from the others in the area, we expect challenges to overcome. Small-scale battles and the like. We were waiting for someone who could hit ranged targets, just in case.” Mace put his hands on his hips as he spoke. Wesley tried to pay attention as Pru copied his every move with added hip thrusts. “This tunnel will take us to the entrance, but we don’t know if there are enemies between us and it. I go first, Pris and Alber come next, then you. Pru takes the rear.”

“Only if it’s cute!” Pru added, getting a collective sigh from the others.

“Try not to hit us, and try to hit anything else you can,” Mace finished. “If we get swarmed, Pru will put out a healing aura, so try to stay inside that while we fight.”

“Isn’t the healing energy a problem for Pris?” Wesley asked.

“Not Prus’ healing,” Mace said, “We don’t know why, but it seems to completely leave her out.”

“I only have two charges on my Regrow Limb a day,” Pru added as an afterthought, “So try not to get anything bitten off more than twice.”

“That only happened once, Pru!” Mace said defensively. “Don’t ask,” he said as soon as Wesley opened his mouth.

With that, they entered the tunnel and headed into the dark.

The light from the entrance vanished quickly, and Pru summoned a pair of pale golden orbs of light that floated above them. It was not bright, but it was enough for them to see what was ahead of them. The group moved slowly forward, Mace’s maces held out in front of him and ready. Pris had unfolded a bone staff of some form like a blind person unfolded a cane, but it seemed more a focus than a weapon, being thin and almost fragile looking. 

Everybody was tense, the usual bickering and good-natured feel of the group vanishing with the light. 

About thirty feet into the tunnel, the floor ahead seemed to move slightly as they approached. Mace clinked one of his weapons against the floor, which burst upward. A massive beetle, its shell the same color as the stone they walked through, revealed itself, darting forward at Mace.

The group didn’t need to react much as Mace growled and slammed both his weapons down on it in twin overhand blows that shattered the carapace and killed it instantly. 

Two more were waiting around the bend in the tunnel, but again, he had no time to do anything before they were dead. Mace took out one in the first hit while the other sprouted a dozen bleeding wounds as Alber vaulted over it and then back. It stumbled, bleeding a thick yellow blood, and a mace smashed its head in a split second later.

After another three turns in the tunnel, Wesley finally got a chance to do something. Four of the things were approaching, their backs illuminated by the light from a portal arch behind them. Finally having a chance to act as the beetles rumbled forward, Wesley fired a pair of bullets into the head of each beetle before activating Reload. The second shot was unnecessary; his improved M1 was tearing through the carapace easily, but he was trying to be thorough. 

“Fuck, that’s loud,” Mace said while patting at his ears. “We got to get the new guy a silencing charm.”

“Sorry, I forgot you guys aren’t used to firearms,” Wesley said with a mental wince. It was not exactly a great first impression of his skills. Even his ears were ringing in the enclosed tunnel. 

“You attacked; they died,” Alber said simply. “All else is a matter of refinement.”

“Subtle and quiet was never our thing anyway,” Pru said with a smile. “And in the dungeon, it won’t matter.”

“Thanks,” Wesley said, but he made a note to look into a silencing charm as soon as possible anyway. It had honestly not occurred to him before, but it was possible there were other modifications he could make as well. He had already seen the M1 upgrade through a token; what was to say that charms and the like couldn’t do even more?

The party made it to the end of the tunnel without further incidents, with Pris having gathered all the loot as they passed. It hadn’t looked like they had dropped much, and Wes had no idea where it was all going, as her pack didn’t look all that big.

Maybe it was magic? 

Now that he thought about it, the amount she pulled out yesterday was suspicious in the extreme. He had simply not noticed before as he was too busy trying to make a good impression.  

“Everyone rest for five minutes,” Mace called, “Then, we are going in. Four days and five hours until the contract expires, and we lose out on the payment.”