The Missing Link: Resistance Beneath the halls of the Outpost’s keep, hidden beyond paths seldom visited and behind heavy wooden doors banded with metal against intruders, several small, isolated cells could be found. Since Hareford lacked the large civilian population of Metamor and often the strategic position to host political prisoners of any sort, these isolated rooms often remained empty. Even now many of them still sat abandoned. Only one was occupied, a prison with thick walls and a door that, unlike some others that had only open bars between their occupants and freedom, was wholly solid but for a small slot at the base of the door where food would be provided, and a few small holes just above designed so voices could travel in and out.
The prisoner sat against one of the walls, left in the silence and darkness to dwell on his own thoughts and the events of the past few days. Questions danced through his mind, and only few answers came to him. Still, even here, in so unpleasant a situation as this, he felt a comfort and security that had eluded him for years. Whatever happened next, it would be worth it. The sharp grating of metal on metal signaled that the gaoler had opened the main door of the cell block, and the sound of several pairs of feet walking towards him made his ears twitch in anticipation. He had expected visitors for some time, so the only surprise was that they had delayed so long in arriving. A heavy hand pounded on his door, and a gruff voice confirmed his suspicions. “You’ve a visitor; be a good host now, would you?” The prisoner shifted, tilting his muzzle towards the door. “I hear you. Who is there, and to what do I owe the pleasure?” Another voice spoke: “I represent the Keep’s intelligence community; I am certain you can appreciate my reasons for not providing much more personal detail.” The voice was difficult to identify for certain, likely an intentional measure as much as withholding their name was. It was a high voice, but it could have been a young man, a woman, a small animal Keeper, or even simply a practiced impressionist. It mattered little, either way. “I expected I would receive a visit from you eventually, though I admit I had begun to grow impatient.” “I offer apologies if that is truly what you wish. It is a matter of some difficulty to debrief so large a number of people in detail while also dealing with the plague within the Keep.” “I presume that means that you have left me for last?” the prisoner inquired. “Perhaps. I consider you the key player in the events of the last several days, as well as the least trustworthy among those involved. For now, you may consider this an informal interview until we can manage a more thorough interrogation. Still, you should rest assured that you will be interrogated at our earliest opportunity, and any lie you tell me now will cost you then.” The prisoner sighed. “Likewise, you can rest assured that I have no intention of deceiving you during our conversation. Ask what you will; I will answer truthfully, and in as much detail as you require.” The spy paused before continuing, but he spoke decisively when he did. “Very well. I wish to know who you are, whose interests you represent, and what your interest is in the assassin Vincent Lois.” The wolf in the cell nodded and took a few moments to gather his thoughts. “There is much to say about all of those questions,” he replied. “I can answer in simple terms in a few minutes, or I can provide context if that would better serve your purposes.” “Some context would be helpful, I imagine. Can you limit your answer to the events since you came to Outpost?” Nathan considered for a few moments and nodded. “I believe that would provide sufficient background information. If I started from the end of my preceding patrol, when first I was directed to come here, I should be able to include all of the important details.” “Begin whenever you are ready. If I have a question I will stop you.” Sighing, Nathan paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. His visitor waited patiently until he was, at last, rewarded as the wolf began his story. * * * For many years, I have been a thrall of a mysterious group of figures which have controlled me from the shadows. If I could provide more insight into the exact nature of their influences upon me I would, but all I know is that they were able to appear to me from within my mind, and I was powerless to resist whatever orders they give me. While my own will was in control for most of the time, whenever my Masters gave me a mission I was forced to follow through. Sometimes, however, I went for months without any contact with them. This was the case just before the events of the previous days. I have always been most at home in the forest, even before the Curse gave me the form of a wolf. Now, with the instincts and cunning of the beast combined with my natural ability as a scout, I could not help but enjoy the times I spent running through the snow in the forests around Metamor. In these times, I often run ahead as my patrol falls behind, so lost as I am in the freedom of the moment. That night was just such a time. Almost at Metamor, I dashed at reckless speeds through the trees. I allowed myself to hope, if just for a little while, that my Masters had forgotten about me. And just then, the world twisted around me and brought me stumbling to my knees. The trees, the snow, the stars above me – all twisted around me until I was left with only a void. I grit my teeth, trying to force out the presence before it appeared to me. I knew I could not hope to succeed, but I also knew I had to try. “Nathan, your services are required.” Panting, I raised my eyes to where the dark figure stood before me, his figure shrouded in darkness that seemed thicker than the void around him. Often, I was contacted by this figure. The Grandmaster. I stumbled to my paws, facing him with grim resignation. “Sir?” My response was automatic. “You and your patrol will head to the outpost of Hareford. We have lost contact with one of our agents in the region, and you must see to his return.” Part of me dared to hope, but I knew there was no resisting the will of these Masters. “How urgent is the order?” I asked. “You must turn your patrol immediately,” was the response. “If they require rest you may give them some time, but be ready to move as soon as I give you the order. We cannot be certain of where your target is currently, but he must be dealt with as soon as we find him again. If you do not receive further information, ask for the man within the Outpost immediately upon your arrival.” “Who would I need to ask for?” The Grandmaster sighed, clearly unhappy with something, but he turned to direct his answer to me regardless. Though he turned his face to me, the blank void within the cowl of his cloak would not reveal to me any of his features. “You seek Vincent Lois,” he said quietly. “Neither ask for him by name, nor tell your companions it is him you seek. When you inquire, say merely that you received a call for help and are seeking the source of that call.” My mouth went dry. Vincent Lois. He was important. Even as secretive as my Masters were, that was a name that was frequently discussed. He was the victim of experimental spells more powerful than even those that held myself. If he had broken free, could that mean that it was possible for me to do the same? “Do I kill him on sight?” I inquired. “Exercise caution,” my Master replied. “You are to kill him if possible, but do not do so when killing him would put you at risk of capture. We have reason to believe that whatever event resulted in his escape from our power was catastrophic and has compromised his ability to provide others with information. That should provide you with time to plan your strike.” “Sir.” I bowed. Without another word, the man disappeared with another twist of the world. I was on my knees again, but now I was back in the forest, the snow drifting around my paws where I had fallen moments before. My fellows would be catching up to me soon. I so wished to tell them that we would continue to the Keep immediately, but I could not. Despite my desire to escape the grasp of my Masters, I had long been resigned to the fact that, regardless of my own desires, my paws would move in whichever direction I was directed. Lois… Had he truly escaped their grasp? If so, how? Oh, if only Eli would grant me a taste of that same salvation! My patrol did ask to rest that night, and I was more than happy to grant that request. While they slept, I pondered. Years ago, I might have worried that my Masters could know what I thought, but I had learned through experience that they could direct me as they wished and see their orders followed without question, but they could not detect the extent of my desire to resist. Lois’ escape dominated my thought, and it renewed in me a hope that had been long since extinguished. If he, the crowning achievement of my Master’s magic, could flee their grasp after so long, why couldn’t I? No doubt I would learn of the events that had caused his escape. Then I had only to repeat it myself to be freed! The Grandmaster did not contact me again that evening, and so we left for Hareford to seek out my target. Throughout the journey I feared that I would receive another vision with orders to kill immediately at a specific place. I could not do that, not without learning the method of his escape. Mercifully, no such orders arrived, and we entered Outpost with my original mission still intact. As it so happened, I did not even get the chance to inquire about Lois. His patrol commander was at the central keep in Hareford, attempting to speak to the commander of the city seeking help for one of the members of his patrol. It took only a few words of conversation to confirm that I had found my target, but it also made it clear that he would not be left alone when I arrived. Seeking to appear trustworthy, I brought my patrol’s mage to assist with the assassin’s plight. It was clear from our arrival that Lois would be under the watch of several very powerful and capable people. It gave me time to think and learn about what had happened, but it also made my Masters impatient. As I left the chamber later that first day, I found myself directed to a room away from prying eyes. The door shut behind me, and the stones of the walls spun in a vortex before me, the void surrounding me once more. “This mission will be more difficult than expected.” The robed man stepped out of the nothingness of the void, crossing his arms and shaking his head impatiently. “We knew Lois’ companions would be a problem if we ever needed to extract him from the Keep, but we always expected to have his expertise available to deal with them. For now, we must keep up appearances.” “What do you wish me to do?” “For now? Use Lois’ past as a weapon to give yourself more time. Express concern that he may return to being an assassin should he be restored. If you manage to spread enough doubt in their minds, they may withdraw to discuss their strategy and give you an opportunity to strike.” “Will that not also compromise their trust in me?” The Grandmaster waved his hand dismissively. “They are already cautious. You will say very little they are not thinking themselves. Do your best to make your actions seem reasonable, and even a little suspicion will pass without danger.” “Sir.” Again, the stones around me spiraled back in from the nothing. I regained my bearings enough to leave the room I had entered, and returned to my mission. Still I hoped that the mages would succeed in discovering what had happened to Lois. Even the idea of being nothing but a wolf seemed preferable to continuing to live as I did then. The next day was more harrowing than anticipated. Though I successfully convinced Balrog that my misgivings were solely due to my concern for him revealing himself, I could still feel the trust of the others eroding. Even though I hoped to avoid killing Lois by whatever means necessary, I did not wish to do so because his companions turned on me. In the end, Balrog and the mage Lucy joined together to test a hypothesis. It seemed an impossible hope, both to me and to my Masters. We were thoroughly caught off guard when their attempt succeeded, and we did not learn of it until Lois had regained his senses. Thankfully, though the frustration of my Masters bled through the spell by which they tried to control me, I managed to remain somewhat composed and not be spitted on the moondog’s sword before the end of our meeting. At the very least, we learned that Lois had lost his memory, limiting the damage he could do in the meanwhile. I left as the rest of them went to see Lois in hopes of recovering his memory. Again, my steps were directed to an abandoned chamber, and my return to the void now sent me reeling against the wall, even as the stone fled from my vision. I pushed away from it as my Master again appeared, stepping quickly towards me as though to strangle me. “How could you have let them restore him without your knowledge?” he asked. I only wished that another could have heard him and realized I was not my own. “No damage was done,” I replied, still bowing my head in deference as though to a respected teacher. “Vincent Lois has lost his memory. For how long? I know not. Still, it presents an opportunity.” My heart began to beat. Even as the conversation with the others had set me on edge, the small part of me that still dared to hope was inspired with an idea, and now I could only pray that speaking out of turn would not reveal my attempted subterfuge. My Master looked at me, cowl still hiding any detail from my eyes. “What are you saying?” His voice revealed both interest and suspicion. I could only continue speaking and hope he would see the sense in it. “Sir, Lois is ignorant of his past. That means that he will likely be easy to manipulate. If I convince him that he is in danger and that he needs to flee Hareford in my company, we may be able to bring him back into your grasp rather than being forced to kill a valuable agent of our organization.” My ploy was set, and I could only think to myself of every reason it should not succeed. It was more dangerous than simply killing Lois, it had so many more ways that it could possibly go wrong, and if it did fail it would result in not one, but two agents becoming compromised. Surely it was a suggestion that could not be honored… “Yes… Lois is a valuable asset.” I had to consciously control myself to avoid visibly expressing my disbelief. “It could be risky, but the reward for success would certainly be worth the trouble. If you use the Dream, perhaps we could avoid most of the added risk.” “The Dream?” I was aware of the tool that had been used by my Masters on occasion. I am uncertain of whether it is truly part of Nocturna’s realm, or whether clever mages discovered a way to convince men that they were dreaming while trapping them in an illusion which they controlled themselves, but the effect was the same. My Masters could craft a dreaming world to accomplish whatever purpose they desired, and in many cases the victim never fully separated reality from fiction. “With him beyond our grasp, you will have to construct the dream for us,” my Master continued, barely paying me mind. “You have enough magic to perform the task yourself, and our guidance should ensure that your casting is successful.” He turned fully to me, again fixing me in his unseen gaze. “Your task changes,” he announced. “You will return Lois to us. Using the Dream, you will gain his confidence, and then you will bring him to us. We will tell you where to go once you have succeeded.” While my surprise that my suggestion had succeeded remained, my heart sank as the Grandmaster spoke. I had hoped that attempting to convince Lois that I was trustworthy would give him and his party time to see through my ruse, and being given the order to use the Dream caused me to doubt. The Dream would protect him from me, true, but it also meant that I would also be safe should I fail, and still able to execute my orders as originally delivered. Hope dwindled, but resolve grew where hope was lost. I had to escape their grasp, and this was my chance. “Sir.” I made the bow robotically, with barely a thought, and the robed figure was once more hidden by the void. Now I had only to wait for the night, and I would find some way to break free. I had to. Night fell, but not before a more eventful day than anticipated. Before my conversation had even ended, the lynx and his fellows were ordered to perform a patrol on short notice. The quarantine meant that the Keep had to make due with few men on short rest, true, but the order was unchanged even after the situation had been explained. It meant that my chances of success were only increased, and I could feel how pleased my Masters were by this development. It made me sick. When I sat down within the abandoned room that night to weave together a Dream, I felt certain that Lois would be fooled and I would leave Hareford in his company before morning. At my Masters’ command, I built a dream that would draw Lois out, convince him that I was trustworthy, and convince him to seek me out when he awoke. All went as expected, and Lois agreed to follow me, convinced that I was sent to save him from assassins who wanted him dead. Then… one of my Masters appeared in the Dream without warning. At least, that is what I supposed. It was not the Grandmaster, but the manner of approaching me was the same. He was furious, demanded to know why I had not killed Lois. And then, my true Masters alerted me to the deception, and I realized Lois had turned the tables, somehow confronting me in a form similar to their own. I cannot say how I felt then. Some part of me was grateful that I had not been forced to lead Lois back to be dominated once more by our Masters, but my hopes of escape seemed now further away than ever. Hopes dashed, I turned to rage, and I felt my Masters’ anger as well. It boiled within me, filling me with rage. And then Lois offered to meet somewhere and face me in a battle for his life. It was an offer only a fool would make; Lois could, no doubt, have found a public place within the Outpost where he could reveal my treachery before I could kill him. It would not guarantee his survival, but it would make my mission extremely difficult and at least give him a passing chance to live. Facing me alone meant he would certainly die, or worse. The Grandmaster did not contact me within the void this time. In the Dream, his voice simply echoed in my mind as clearly as though they stood beside me. “You must accept.” The voice sounded as though he spoke through gritted teeth. “Though I am certain he lies, whatever small chance remains that he may truly be so foolish as to meet you alone in battle must be accepted.” I looked at Lois, seeing him as though time was frozen as I spoke to my Masters. “Where should we meet?” I asked them. “Somewhere beyond Hareford. It matters little. You will defeat him and bring him to us.” The connection to the Grandmaster ended here, and a final, desperate hope welled within me. They had given me more than enough liberty to venture one last gamble for freedom, even if success depended on a desperate shot in the dark. I told Lois to meet me at a certain lumber camp, a place I myself would not have known but hours before. Alex had confided his patrol schedule with Balrog that afternoon, and I had been near enough to hear his words. The lumber camp was meant to be the site of the party’s daytime campsite. I could not be certain that they would even reach the area before all was lost, but it gave me a reason to fight. Lois honored his agreement to fight me in the lumber camp despite his certain defeat. Our battle was short and brutal. Without his memory, Lois had lost his combat prowess as well. I taunted him, pummeled him, delayed as long as I felt I could. Desperate, my opponent even resorted to fighting like an animal, coming at me on all fours with claws out and teeth bared. For a few moments, I thought he might actually overcome me, but my training overcame his desperation. Hope faded, and I prepared to bring him back to my Masters as agreed. Then, the impossible happened. Alex arrived with his patrol, stopping me before I could incapacitate the ermine. The Grandmaster bellowed in my mind, demanded that I kill Lois and escape immediately. Close as they were, I knew that Alex and his patrol would not be able to stop me from following that final order. Still, it was an order I could not refuse, and I prepared to strike the killing blow. Hope faded as I looked down at the helpless man at my feet, but Eli had guided him by means I do not understand. He held in his grip a fetish stone, the very same object that had granted him freedom though intended to cause his downfall. He turned its power towards me. If I had been any other man, the stone would have been ineffectual. Fetish stones have little lasting power on most Keepers unless affixed to the victim. To men like myself and Lois, however, the brief resurgence of the Curse is enough to break the connection that binds us to perform our Masters’ will. For the first time in a dozen years, I felt freedom, and then everything faded. * * * Nathan slumped in the cell as he finished his retelling of the events of the past several days. To him it was the culmination of years spent under the power of unknown forces, but to his visitor he supposed that it sounded like foolishness. Whether his words had been well received or not, he still felt untold relief at being able to speak openly of what had happened at all. “Both of you remained as animals for some time after the stone was used,” his visitor asked at length. “Why was that?” “The connections that had held sway over both of us went deep,” Nathan replied after a few moments’ thought. “To sever that connection was to lose a large part of ourselves in the process.” Nathan paused to consider once more. “I suppose it was not really part of ourselves that was lost, but rather something forced upon us that we could not help but depend upon for how deeply it influenced us. When it was removed, only confusion remained. With time I have remembered much, but at the time when I faced Lois it had been a full day and he still remembered little. It reinforces my belief that he had spent many more years than I under their sway.” “Lois still recalls little, though if what you say is true I hope he will begin to remember more useful information as time goes on.” The spy waited for a few moments before prompting Nathan once again. “Is there anything else you wish to say?” “I doubt there is much else that will be of use to you. With my connection to my Masters broken I cannot say much more regarding their nature. Unfortunately, one part of their aim with controlling me was successful; I cannot tell you who they are, nor can I now tell you how they might have reacted to the loss of two of their agents. And, following the encounter with Lois, I have spent the hours since recovering my mind sitting in this cell in self-reflection.” “I imagine,” the spy replied. He spent a few moments in silence, with a dull scratching sound from beyond the door making it clear that he was taking some sort of note. “I appreciate your willingness to cooperate,” he said at length. “No doubt the Spymaster will have questions for you regardless, but his interview should be much more agreeable to you than it might have been if you were hesitant to speak. I will put in a good word for you, but with the quarantine in effect it will be some time before you can be interrogated more officially, and I see little chance for you to be released until that point. Are there any messages I can take for you in the meanwhile?” “Tell my patrol not to worry.” He chuckled. “Come to think of it, they likely don’t need the reminder, but they will still enjoy hearing from me I imagine. Beyond them I don’t… well…” “Yes?” “Take a message to Lois for me, if you can.” “Of course. What should it say?” “Tell him, ‘Thank you.’” I hope you have enjoyed this story. It took far too long for me to finish, but I hope that it’s worth a read now that I have finished. If all goes well, the next story in the arc should follow in short order. -LurkingWolf --- This email has been checked for viruses by Avast antivirus software. https://www.avast.com/antivirus
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