CHAPTER 3: THE CONTRACT

“You have like eighty runs in less than three solars, Norrin. You have been doin’ way above the minimum. That’s a good look for you. You’re one of the best Chasers out there.” Bron, the boss working the Northwest Chasers guild, said a few days before when Norrin paid a visit to Bron’s office.

“I’m trying to hit the pay-off. I can’t just wait around until the end of my service. I gotta keep doing runs before it’s too late y’know.” Norrin answered with a humble shrug. He wasn’t used to taking compliments. “But these blue routes the Triton Realm approved are killing me.”

“Well, then this is your lucky day, Norrin,” Bron answered with a large grin. “I gotta special contract just for you. Now where’d I put it?”

Bron was one of the more enthusiastic Chaser guild bosses. Norrin watched him search his office with amusement as he sat back in the cushioned, but still uncomfortable chair Bron set up for him. The balding older man was a whirlwind of activity, even though his pace was hindered by his missing left leg, arm and eye, each replaced with crude mechanical prosthetics that squeaked with every movement. The office space he shuffled around in sat on the second floor of a nondescript barrack and tavern exclusive for Chaser guild members and the room itself was a cramped monument to organized chaos. Giant ledgers were stacked on the floors filled with the names, rankings and the known status of active Chasers. The desk was covered by scrolls of various lengths and thickness, detailing reports about the journeys that were completed and those that were not. The walls were covered in various maps, charts and job information. Also scattered about were postings about various new creature sightings and dangerous area alerts issued by the Realm.

“Yeah, those blue routes are cutting into our work for sure,” Bron said while digging through papers. He knocked on the firelight fixture next to him, that served as a source of light and heat. It was a vain effort to squeeze the last few drops of power out before having to replace the kinetically charged crystals. “People don’t mind the extra tax they’re payin’ on top of the other travel fees because they think those routes are safe.”

“But I am still taking those runs, even though the pay is shit. I will admit though, the routes are reasonably safe,” Norrin added. “I mean, I did run into some creatures, but they were only small and annoying things like monkeyfoxes. Once I saw a saber-rat that got separated from its pack. But I kinda just shooed it away.”

“That’s what I’m talking ‘bout,” Bron huffed as he finally took a seat. “The travel companies are going to start thinking they don’t need us anymore because of the Blues. Hell, to be honest the Chasers aren’t needed like they were back in the day. Most roads are known and camping spots are set. With beast sightings down, companies are just adding us on to give folks peace of mind and absolve themselves from any claims.”

“True, but it is what it is. I’m not paid to fight with the creatures. I’m paid to avoid them. So, that is exactly what I do. The Chasers are a symbol of safety. We lead people away from hazardous situations not into them. If there is no danger to be found it’s a win-win.” Norrin stated as he reminisced over the multitude of his missions.

In his early solars as a Chaser, he rushed headlong into threats trying to prove his worth. Chasers are not allowed to carry weapons by tradition and by law, which means they have to rely on speed and skill to defend themselves. So, the Chasers that survived multiple incidents and encounters held a near legendary status amongst the guild. Norrin craved that recognition early in his career. He enjoyed running off the malicious harpies, outwitting the packs of lizardmen, and toying with the slow and clumsy ogres. His copper-colored skin bore many scars from those battles and more. The danger gave him a rush, and coming out on the other side of it made him feel invincible. But now, he was a few solars older and his reputation as a Chaser was secured with the marks to prove it. So, now he was more content to use his brains and experience to travel the safest way possible, instead of pursuing glory.

“I know the contracts aren’t paying as well anymore,” Norrin continued, “I am ranked as Chaser prime class and I’m still barely making it day to day in the Realm. The Trapsman crews are offering us more coin to lead their hunts into the wilds. But that coin does not outweigh the risk for me to make those runs. I’d rather leave the high-stake stuff to others and take the easy jobs as they come. Life is hard enough now and will be even harder as a former Chaser with a missing limb or two. No offense.”

“None taken, asshole,” Bron replied with a snort. “Look, I know you have this dream of buying out your contract while you’re still healthy. So, you’ll thank me for this one ya bastard!” He said as he handed a mission contract from a case bearing the High Governor’s seal over to Norrin. “The Governor’s office asked for the best Chaser I could find. I didn’t even know you were in the vicinity, until I saw your name on the job board. They’re payin’ ten times the cross-continent rate guaranteed, plus a double bonus for completing the run!”

“I was just headed out from Citadel Snowall after I took care of some personal business, and thought of taking on an easy route on the way out. Not some high profile mission from the Governors,” Norrin replied while giving a perfunctory glance at the contract. “Why not give it to one of the younger Chasers? The new kids are always up for an adventure.”

“Naw, those kids get on my nerves. They’re barely sixteen solars walking around like they know everything about the world cause their little boyfriend got eaten by a Deathstalker on their thirteenth birthday or some shit. They don’t have the right mindset for this type of mission.” Bron said, shaking his head. “Hell, these kids didn’t even want to be Chasers, unlike us old timers. Half of the new Chasers are bein’ punished for something and not taking their runs seriously. The other half are just some of the saddest folks I have ever met. I think they joined up because they don’t know what else to do with their lives and are hoping to be eaten by some beastie so they can be put out of their misery!” Bron stated only half-joking. “Listen Norrin, the Governors asked for someone with experience and discretion. They need to move fast and efficiently. I think you are perfect for this mission, because I know how well you work.”

A smile masked Norrin's face hiding his suspicion as he mulled over the mission details. He is obviously trying to flatter me into taking this contract, Norrin thought. He has always set me up with good runs. But he never pushed this hard for a job.

“Interesting,” Norrin said, as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed against his chest. “And can I ask, what’s your commission on this contract?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Bron grunted, shifting his good eye away from Norrin’s glare. “Tell you what though, if you take this one, I’ll waive the finder’s cut you pay to me and drop the guild tax.”

“I don’t know…” Norrin said, now eyeing Bron with even more suspicion and skepticism. “This route they have planned is wild. Something about this is off.”

“Off?” Bron grunted again, “The only thing off is your brain if you pass on this! Did you not hear me say they’re payin’ ten times the rate! You’re a good guy Norrin, ya take care of people, but this work is hell. Ya could do good things without the risk of getting devoured by some horror. Imagine finally being able to give up your lonely life on the road and being able to settle down and really start enjoying things.”

“I do enjoy things,” Norrin said, unable to hide the defensive tone in his voice, “and I’m not lonely, I’m alone. There is a difference.”

“Hmm, if you say so,” Bron said with a huff, “all I’m saying is you could do better. Don’t worry about their plan, because you know better than most that the routes aren’t set in stone. Take this mission and thank me later. This is the one that changes everything!”

The pay was good, too good in fact and in his gut Norrin still knew something was not right. But what Bron said made sense, he just could not let the coin pass him by. There weren’t many missions to choose from in the first place. Plus, food and lodging expenses across the Realm were only rising. A Chasers’ life is, by creed and by law, one of service and self-sacrifice. Norrin chose this life after his service as a Scout for Citadel Firstview’s army. At the time, acting as a decoy to divert threats from a caravan's path with the skills he picked up from scouting, seemed to be the best way he could see the world beyond the Citadel's walls and get paid for it. Unfortunately, it was usually a hard and short life for many who thought the same. But, by completing this mission, it would be a life he could put behind him. With the coin he stashed away from previous missions, the pay he would get from this run should give him enough to buy out of his service contract for good. It was rare for a Chaser to have the opportunity to earn out their contracts early. Plus, since he was free of any major injuries, he could use his knowledge and experience to become a Chasemaster, or even run his own Guild house. In the end, Norrin reasoned this mission was his way to become a part of the very exclusive club of retired and healthy Chasers.

“Okay, I’ll take it.”