Chapter 16: Chapter 16.

Arina and I rummaged through the leaflets on the bounty board in the Adventurer’s Guild. There were near a hundred of them. They were piled on thick over time. Dandee and Summer had decided not to come along. He wanted to practice his forms, and Summer decided to bake some bread.

“Who puts up these bounties?” I asked Arina. “Who pays them out?”

“Most often it’s the Brotherhood.”

“And are they reliable when it comes to paying up?”

Arina nodded. “Sure, they pay.”

“It sounds like you have done some bounty hunting then?”

“No, but I know a few who do it. It’s good coin if you have the guts.”

I glanced back at the board. “They really can’t find these guys?”

“Well, if they really wanted to they could. But either it’s too dangerous, or it’s not worth their time. It doesn’t help that all the good bounties get snatched up before they even make it to the board.”

“Yeah, that’s how it is,” I said.

Arina knocked on the newest looking leaflet on the board. “We should try the more recent ones, the older they are, the more time the villainous scum had to hide, and disappear.”

“Perhaps, but the older ones also get complacent after some time. They stop looking over their shoulders. They venture outside and get seen.”

I needed help with this bounty business. So, I gambled and spent 20k Essence to upgrade my Bounty Hunter profession to the second tier.

[Passive skill unlocked: Body Count]

[Body Count]: Over a duration of 60 seconds, lists the target’s sentient kills over the past one year.

I groaned. That didn’t help at all. But at least it would let me confirm if the perps actually committed the murder or not. The passive skill had upgrades to increase the limit from 1 year to 2. And another upgrade to reduce the duration from 60 sec to 50.

Afterward, I had 35,591 Essence in reserve and was left with a burning question. Do I gamble again and hope that whatever I get from the Bounty Hunter profession would be helpful, or not? Tier three was 30k, and would use up almost all of my essence. Alternatively, I could upgrade the spells I had, or my other two classes. In the end, I let the Essence stay in reserve. I liked how I was able to upgrade a needed spell in the midst of a Burst of Clarity. It gave me a certain versatility.

There were plenty on the board wanted for murder. Which meant that I would need to somehow touch the victims in order to activate [On the Hunt.] Digging through graves wasn’t something I looked forward to. Maybe they had a morgue that used cold magic to preserve the corpses for a time? I had a sinking feeling they didn’t employ a coroner to do autopsies.

“All these victims, where would they be buried?” I asked Arina.

“Buried? No, there’s hardly any land for that. They’re cremated. Why do you ask?”

“Are the ashes scattered?”

Arina shook her head. “The family keep them in an urn.”

That was very fortunate, and it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with rotting corpses. The next problem was that the leaflets were short on details as to who was killed, where, when, and why. No addresses were listed either.

“How do we find out more about what happened? If we’re going to track down the killers, we’ll need all the information we can get.”

“The Brotherhood would know. They keep better records. Probably half of these aren’t active any longer.”

“Is that right? So, why didn’t we just go to them first?”

Arina grinned. “They don’t serve beer over there.”

The walk to the Brotherhood headquarters was short. They were housed in a fortress on the eastern wall. Rectangular in shape. About five stories tall with many towers around the perimeter.

The fortified gate was wide open. We walked into a spacious courtyard. I could hear grunting, shouting and clang of metal. People were training with swords and archery using dummies and targets. Up against one side were the gallows.

We followed a sign to an entrance. Inside, the space was crammed with crates filled with account books. Behind a rugged writing table, a man with gray hair scribbled in dim light, facing the window with his back to us.

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He straightened up as we entered. “Collecting a bounty?” he said without turning.

“No,” I said. “I’d seen a few leaflets on the bounty board in the Adventurer’s Guild, and came looking for details on a few murders.”

“Which ones?”

“Oh, how about the ones committed by the Datby brothers?”

He stood up from his chair, turned and paused to look us over. He was about my height, and similarly built. He wore glasses, and had a gray beard. A veteran?

“Datby brothers?” he asked.

“Yes. I wanted to speak to the victim’s family. I believe it would shed light as to the whereabouts of-”

“There’s no family,” He said with a hint of pain in his voice. “They killed them all.”

“And their ashes?”

He tilted his head ever slightly, blinked. “The Brotherhood had taken care of their remains.”

“Took care of them how, if I may ask?”

He narrowed his eyes, paused before speaking. “In the crypt below. Would you like to see them?”

His question threw me off. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Yet, I could smell it by his mannerisms. The man radiated confidence. He exuded danger. Not of a mad-man, but more of honed assassin.

A minute had passed since we entered. A long list of his kills blinked into my view. This man had lead a very busy life. I assumed that [Body Count] didn’t distinguish cold-blooded murder from self-defense, just execution, accidental, or killing in the line of duty.

I scoffed. “Nah, what good are the ashes now? Dead is dead.”

He furrowed his brows for a moment, then gestured to a tome lectern by the side of the wall. “I believe that should satisfy your need for information. Be gentle with the pages. And if you need a notebook, they are ten silver a piece.” He pointed to a stack of them. He turned around and resumed his writing.

The records book was as thick as a brick and as large as a newspaper. It was opened to the last entry, somewhere half way through. With great care, I leafed through the large pages. The entries had the details I was looking for, and even more than I had expected. I found a few that piqued my interest. I wanted something local, something I could start and finish in a few moons before this place turned cold and dark. With luck, also something easy and well paying.

I needed to write the information down. I walked over and placed a stack of ten silver by the notebooks. Grabbed a pencil too. The man at the table didn’t get up to check, or even turn his head. Trusting fella. I copied down two entries, just in case the first one would fall through.

“Alright,” I told Arina. “I think I got what we’ll need. Do you have a map?”

“No, but there’s one by the city hall.”

“Great. Lead the way.”

*** Commander Brent ***

Commander Brent wrote down five names in a hurry lest he’d forget. It wasn’t often that killers walked into the Brotherhood headquarters willingly. The five names sounded vaguely familiar, but he didn’t recall from where. Something recent perhaps? His memory wasn’t what it used to be, but he was thorough to a fault. He’d check and find out.

Commander was also a man of patience, so he waited a good minute. Then another. With nobody to watch, he stood up slowly and winced. He didn’t like to show it, but his back hurt something fierce. Years of chasing villains had finally taken its toll.

He noticed that a single notebook was missing, and a pencil too. But, the coins were there. All ten of them. He didn’t trust the stranger’s eyes and horns. Still, there was something different about the man. They way he held himself, the way he spoke. He hobbled over and looked at the entry opened in the records book. He sighed. It was turned back to the last entry as before.

Clever.

The stranger must have guessed that the commander would check, and didn’t leave anything to chance. Also, he wasn’t a local. Not likely anyways. The commander would have spotted someone like him. Then again, the eight portal cities of the Arboreum held .. millions? Maybe he was from another kingdom?

And what was she doing with him? None of it added up. Still, he hoped that his hunch was correct. The killings of late had gotten out of hand.

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