The Longest Road, Part 24
Watching the assassin from the shadows, it reminds you of when you first learned her identity. Back then you also observed her in secret, though at the time you chose not to take direct action against her. And now the odds seem even worse now, considering all the muscle she's hired.
That's only how it seems, however. In reality, for a demon of your particular skills, you have much more to work with now than you did back then. She thinks of those men as assets... but the way you see it, such unreliable "assets" might as well be blades pointed at her own throat.
Just waiting for you to wield them.
You slip silently back through the trees, returning to where Marta and Greta still stand. "Listen carefully," you whisper into Marta's ear. "The assassin who took a shot at the caravan is up ahead... and she brought friends. They're planning to attack one of the guards and take him hostage. But I'm going to trick them into taking me instead."
The woman sucks in a tiny gasp, but you just continue. "Hide in the bushes until you hear us leave, then get Greta back to camp. After that, find Khaytala. Tell her... tell her I was talking with you about the caravan route, but that I heard something in the forest and went to investigate. Tell her you followed me... and that you saw me get grabbed by the assassin and nearly a dozen men. Tell her you overheard that they were going to use me as a hostage."
Both Marta and Greta's eyes are wide, but Marta nods once, swallowing hard. It's the best you can do. This should give Khaytala time to prepare, stacking the odds against the assassin as much as possible. You're not sure exactly what Khaytala will do with the time, but you know she's resourceful. She'll think of something.
Next, you stash your coin-purse in a place you can recover it afterward, though you tuck several of the highest denomination coins into your shoe. Then—after Greta and her mother finish hiding—you set out in the general direction of the enemy again.
This time, however, you move without any stealth at all. Carelessly stepping on branches, grousing to yourself about getting so lost when all you wanted to do was take a piss away from the caravan. The very picture of a bumbling city-dweller out of his element in the wilds.
The whispered conversation from the assassin's group ceases, and soon you detect several of them coming toward you from behind. You don't let yourself tense, keeping up the oblivious facade until one of them actually jumps you, clamping a big hand over your mouth and holding a dagger to your throat. You struggle a little, making "terrified" noises into the man's sweaty palm, but he drags you back, away from the caravan. Soon a gag is stuffed in your mouth, a bag tied over your head, and your wrists bound behind you as you're dragged deeper into the woods.
You play up your stumbling lack of grace for the whole trip, which takes a great deal of time. Finally they shove you to the ground and rip off the bag, revealing a campsite with a small fire burning in the center. You look up and see the young assassin doing her best to loom menacingly over you, though it's not an easy task given the girl's unimpressive height. Still, her glare is furious as she studies your face, getting a good look at you for the first time. "You..." she says. "You're the one who warned that bitch."
She may be young, but you wouldn't know it by the raw, aching hate you see smoldering in her eyes. If you ever had any suspicion that she might have been simply hired by someone else, you entertain it no longer.
This is no contract. This is personal.
You make muffled noises behind the gag, but she doesn't show any interest in talking to you. Instead she turns on her heel, pacing back and forth on the outer edges of the camp. Occasionally glancing at you, occasionally glancing back in the direction of the distant caravan. She seems agitated, impatient, but she's holding it in check. Barely.
It doesn't surprise you that she's waiting until tomorrow to make her demands. She doubtless wants to do the exchange in broad daylight, giving Khaytala less cover for any kind of trickery or rescue attempt. Nor does the assassin know about the message you sent through Marta, so she doesn't realize just how much time she's giving Khaytala to plan and prepare.
Soon she starts barking orders again, picking out a rotation to stand watch before returning to her own tent. The other men not on duty soon settle down for some sleep as well. You listen carefully, waiting for the sound of their breathing to even out. Then you make your move.
First you twist your bound hands, managing to dig a coin out of your shoe. Then you call out to the nearby guard, making soft, muffled noises until you attract his attention. He walks over to check on you, growling down in annoyance. "Shut it, hellspawn. I don't have any time for your—"
He's interrupted by the unmistakable ping of a flipped coin as you send it spinning toward him with your thumb, hitting him on the chest. He hesitates for a moment, then drops to his knees, scrambling until he finds it. He holds it close, looking at it by the dying embers of the fire... and then his eyes bulge as he realizes that it's a Nelin Gold Aureus, probably more money than he's ever held in his hands at one time.
The outlaw looks down at you, stunned. You grin back up at him, and carefully enunciate a single phrase, understandable even around the cloth gag. "Yuuu wnnnt mrrrr?"
Slowly the man crawls over to you, his hands trembling. He licks his lips, then loosens your gag. "What do you mean?" he whispers. "How... how much are we talking about?"
"That coin is all I have on me right now," you lie. "But I'll double that if you play along. Does that sound better than going on a suicide mission for whatever loose change the girl over there is offering?"
Really, all you needed was for this idiot to take off the gag. The coin was just the quickest way to manage that. He regards you for a moment, uncertainty and greed warring in his eyes. "Suicide mission?" he finally asks. "We're just shaking down a caravan, that's all."
"What... you mean she didn't even tell you?" you ask, pretending to be surprised. "You don't know who her actual target is?"
"What are you talking about?" The outlaw puts up a brave face, but you can hear worry seeping into his voice.
"This isn't a shakedown," you say. "It's a murder attempt. That girl is going after Khaytala. You know, one of the heroines of the last war? The one-woman army? Also known as the 'Reaper of Lithenvale', I believe?"
"Y-you're lying..." the man protests unconvincingly. "There's... there's no way she'd be that stupid!"
"Think about it," you say. "How much do you really think a caravan would pay for a guard that got themselves captured? Your friend with the eyepatch even pointed out how little sense it made, back when you were still preparing your ambush."
"You're right..." the outlaw murmurs. Then his eyes widen. "Wait! How do you know about—?"
You chuckle, putting as much bone-chilling malevolence into it as you can. "Because I was watching you fools the entire time," you say. "You have no idea how much trouble your little group is in, do you? Did you think I stumbled into your group by accident? Did you think heroines like Khaytala wouldn't have covert protection? This has been a setup from the very beginning... and I am exactly where I want to be."
You lean in closer, your demonic visage now less than an inch away from his face as you watch the fear you're instilling in him. Your detailed knowledge about a conversation you shouldn't have heard has convinced him that you're telling the truth... and you leverage that for all the menace it's worth.
"The only reason I don't snap my fingers and have my backup kill every last one of you is because there's something I want to trick the girl into revealing when she tries to make the trade," you whisper, your breath hot against him. "But that means it's your lucky day. Because I have no interest in you. That girl is the only one that's important here, and I'm willing to pay to make sure that my plans for her go off without a hitch. So you scum are going to get one chance to get out of this with your hides intact. And if you don't..."
You don't finish the sentence, just ending with another blood-curdling chuckle. Taking a moment to appreciate your handiwork, you observe the raw terror that you've instilled in him. "I-I'll let you go," he stammers. "I'll do anything!"
"No, no," you say, shaking your head. "I've no intention of leaving yet. But you can untie me, temporarily. Then wake one of your friends up for me, and bring him here so I can... explain the situation."
It gets a bit repetitive after that, but one by one you terrify the outlaws into the belief that this is even more of a setup than it actually is. With each subsequent one you bring around, the group mentality makes it easier, and soon you have them all in the palm of your hand.
The question now is how you're going to play this. Khaytala is doubtless making her own preparations, and you sent her the message through Marta so you could include Khaytala in the final showdown, possibly even exploiting it toward winning her over. But what about these outlaws?
Should you order them to flee now? That would get them out of your hair immediately, making it more of a direct interaction between you and the assassin as you manipulate her into the trap. Or, you could tell them to wait, playing along until they abandon her at the crucial moment.
