Mid Sun had arrived. Winter, as the Storn called it. In Goldfrucht, a hot, desert kingdom, there was neither snow nor frost so the term still hadn’t caught on. Here, clouded skies were the season’s only real marker. To many, the season’s defining quality was simply that it wasn’t the other two. To Kaiz, it was his favorite time of the year. The brief part where nothing pelted or cooked his skin and the weather was actually decent.

Today was particularly good. The last few remnants of High Sun had yet to recede so the clouds were only scattered, but the temperature had already dropped and the winds picked up. Just how Kaiz liked it.

The breeze seeped into his mask as he cleared his mind.

We can largely ignore the inquisition. Doubt they’d go through with it, this Zone is as poor and inconsequential as it gets.

The slums were divided into twelve zones, generally marked by their direction relative to Waldaun. North West was the least valuable of the lot. The complete lack of interest in it by larger forces was a big reason they could rapidly, and quietly, build their power and influence. Even Snake didn’t care for the Zone, Conan was just greedy and too meek to try his luck anywhere else.

I can’t imagine they’d waste the resources. But. Even if they do, we’ve pretty much gotten rid of all of our so-called ‘backers’. Pits, it could even be a good opportunity to remove any lingering strings. We can use them as contacts if we ever need to, but they should have no say in or pay from what we do. As for Crypt… I just don’t buy it.

Crypt made much of his early money feeding the city drugs. Dreamer’s dust, to be specific. It was a horrendously addictive hallucinogen, pushing its user into a state very similar to lucid dreaming. Their bodies would lay unmoving while their wildest fantasies played in their heads. With full control of themselves within the dream, it was pure paradise. The physical cost, though, was paralyzation. The first few hits would leave a man limp for only an hour after they woke up, but by the tenth, even a level [30] Blue Shield would lay immobile for days.

The king cracked down on it fairly quickly. Its effects on productivity were immediately apparent. Throughout that crackdown, Crypt remained completely untouched. Kaiz didn’t buy the idea that he was even remotely worried. His goal must have been something else.

The bigger issue here is what is Conan going to do and how will Snake respond? Could we keep the heat on him? If we leak that Conan fought some titleds, the council should view him as just an overambitious thug. No need to get us involved. But then that ran the risk of the Nightwatchers getting curious. They’re too prideful to consider that any of their number could be bested by tanlars right now, but leak enough and they could start piecing things together… Even if they didn’t, Snake would hear the rumors and almost certainly know it came from us. What would he do?

Distracted by his thoughts, Kaiz almost failed to see the distinct flash of a spell being cast. Almost. He immediately lunged to the side. As he moved, he watched two mana arrows puncture the sand and disappear into the ground. His eyes went wide.

Piercing!? Not good.

He swiftly vetoed his initial plan to hide inside the nearest shack, but he didn’t particularly like his backup plan either. So he took the third option, and simply ran.

Even in his aimless wandering, he’d been careful with where he walked. He was currently deep in their gang’s turf, something that should have brought him security, but considering his wouldbe assassin could shoot piercing mana arrows he knew no one on patrol would be anything other than target practice. He couldn’t rely on reinforcements, he had to either escape or…

He darted behind a building as more arrows flew. Zigzagging through the mess of homes scarcely seemed to help, they found him regardless. The archer, unsurprisingly, was a sure shot. Kaiz wouldn’t be shocked if they had a way to adjust the arrows mid-fight. If not for the fact he could see exactly when they shot, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to dodge them. He barely dodged them now.

One scraped his shoulder.

Damn it!

He didn’t have his boots on and his mask was only enchanted for physical attacks, a feature he wondered if they knew about. Fighting at range was already his weak spot, without the proper gear it was a gaping hole. Another feature he wondered if they knew.

Another arrow grazed him.

He was running in the direction of Waldaun so each step brought thicker, sturdier buildings. None of them would block piercing, but they did block line of sight. That should give him some opening to get away.

It didn’t.

No matter how many feints, misdirects, double backs, and jukes he deployed, they never lost his trail. Even when he knew that he’d broken line of sight for a good ten seconds, it didn’t seem to affect them. Or their accuracy.

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A second shoulder scrape.

Things were no longer 'not good’ and firmly ‘very bad’. Despite the three close shaves, Kaiz was actually getting more confident in his ability to time his movements and evade lethal or debilitating damage. That meant little though, he was now certain that escaping via cover wasn’t an option.

He couldn’t run forever either. While his endurance was second to none. That was among untitleds. A titled, likely above level [25], likely a ranger, would more than likely have him beat. Then what?

Plans had to change.

[Execute: Absorb, Ext ‘Fire Hands’]

He activated his trump card, bathing his hands in white flames.

When the next pair of arrows arrived, Kaiz caught them. More accurately, blocked them, but as they touched his palms and his spell began to drain them of their mana, the difference was immaterial. They stayed stuck to his hands, slowly dissipating, as he pivoted and dashed towards their origin.

For a moment the assassin paused, whether they were shocked by the spell or his aggression, Kaiz couldn’t tell. What he could tell was the fact that they were a woman, and she was running.

Oh no you don’t!

He gave chase, but it only took a few seconds for him to find his speed lacking. Instead of gaining ground, she was just getting away. She weaved through the paths and alleys with even greater ease than Kaiz could manage with his boots on. When she vaulted onto a two-storey roof in one bound, he gave up. There was no chance he’d catch her.

As he watched her disappear towards the city, all he could do was wonder. If she was that fast, why let him run to begin with?

[Execute: Reset]

The flames receded, making way for a massive headache to form. He could feel his pulse in his skull. The sprint obviously played its part, but the weight of his worries was not light either. Too many things were going on at once.

Was it the girl from before? The gear seems different, but their sizes seem similar. What’s her goal? Learning more about me?

His runner persona was as shrouded in mystery as it could be. Until recently, he’d never run a major job for an outside client and when he ran one for the crew he was meticulous about running it silent. No one with the power to unmask his secrets ever had a reason to.

It would seem that was changing.

Kaiz took a seat at a bench and flowed into his recovery breathing.

After the brief chase, he’d ended up close to one of the only three wells in the North West Zone. There weren’t many people around, night time approached, but he did spot a few people moving around listlessly.

He scrutinized them for a moment, not discounting the prospect of being intentionally led to this position, but he soon found himself shaking his head. There was no second attacker here, only beggars.

I thought I’d have more time.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep all his secrets forever, he didn’t have that kind of power, but he’d hoped he could keep them for a while yet. Revealing the existence of his trump card stung. There were enough layers of misdirection that it wasn't a total loss, but the element of surprise was gone. That was the greatest tool in battle.

A potential upside could be ‘confirmation’ of the rumors that he’s titled, but the benefits of that came with their own costs. In the wake of Conan’s losses, it could affect how the council saw them. It wasn’t an impossibility that the council sent her for that very purpose.

Kaiz eyes went wide.

Crypt?

He paused. He was being hasty and paranoid. Crypt stood to lose way too much in that betrayal. There were much better ways to orchestrate the ambush anyway. Kaiz was dressed as Kaiz when they talked, Crypt had no reason to believe he’d be out walking around the slums. No, the answer wasn’t going to be that simple.

I need to stay hidden for a while. Let this all simmer down. Viz can handle it.

That was what Viz excelled at anyway, scheming and counter scheming. He’d figure it out. Kaiz, on the other hand, would get back to his runes. He…

He sighed.

Even as he was recovering and jumping to conclusions Kaiz kept a casual vigilance, he never didn’t, but in doing so the beggars had never left his awareness. They were a pitiful sight.

Watching them wallow around the well brought unsettling emotions. Dirty, disheveled, and disheartened, they were dregs through and through. A fate they did little to deserve. If they were just born with titles they wouldn't have to stoop so low, praying people were kind enough to drop them enough food or money to simply scrape by.

Most had glanced his way, but whether they had seen the ‘fight’ or were merely intimidated by the mask, they all looked away. Kaiz hadn’t and the more he observed them, the more his pity grew. They looked lifeless. As if their minds were long gone and they were merely waiting for their bodies to follow. He was in a not too dissimilar place only a handful of years ago. Before he arrived in Waldaun, a good meal was rarer than snow. He’d come a long way since those times, but he’d never forget them.

This’ll cost me.

Against what most would call better judgement, he brought out his coin purse and handed everyone he saw two bigsilver coins. It wouldn’t change their lives or anything, but it’d pay for simple food for a week.

He didn’t like giving strangers handouts, he’d seen too many who’d already given up on themselves squander golden hand after golden hand, but he also knew how hard it was to prove you had the talent and drive to be successful when no one gave you the chance.

A few bigsilver wasn’t quite ‘giving them a chance’, but it was better than being completely callous. He would always struggle to ignore suffering right in front of his eyes and he was okay with that. While there wasn’t enough boldness in his chest to call himself a philanthropist, he made impacts. As long as you were alive and fed, you had opportunity. Hopefully, one or two of them made something of it.

After ten minutes of receiving heartfelt ‘thank you’s, and warding off a few pickpocket attempts, he continued with his plan to get back to his runes. The long way.