[Lithe Build: +10 to Athletics. Cautious Spirit: +5 to Evasiveness. Obtained skill: Toxic Intuition. Status updated.]

A warm, tingling sensation passes through me. I immediately feel refreshed. The soreness in my arms is gone, the burning in my lungs has vanished. I stand, twitching with energy, eager to put my new abilities to the test. I close one eye, taking aim at the knot in the tree I’d been trying to hit before. With a sharp flick of the wrist, I send the knife spiraling toward the tree.

It hits handle-first and bounces off. Well. I guess my level up didn’t help with my knife throwing abilities.

But it was easier to hit the tree. It felt like it took less effort. I jog over to pick up my knife, then head back for the inn.

“Tell me about Toxic Intuition,” I tell Echo as I jog back. Might as well test out this +10 to Athleticism. Did it really make me stronger, or am I imagining it?

[Toxic intuition,] Echo says. [An ability which allows the user to identify noxious ingredients that can be used in spells and potions. The skill may be leveled up for further insight into what potions and effects may be produced from the combination of ingredients.]

Could be pretty useful once I get that ability to a higher level. Might as well start practicing with it now.

I scan all the plants and wildlife I pass as I walk, though there’s not much around that meets Toxic Intuition’s criteria. Still, I find a bush full of red berries at one point, which Echo identifies as a mildly poisonous plant if consumed. Pulling out the sheath which still has some of the carnivorous orchid’s dried sap stuck to the inside, I’m likewise provided with a brief description that the dried sap is mildly poisonous—info Echo already told me. Guess I’ll need to level this skill up some more before it starts providing any real insight.

By the time I make it back to the Starlight Inn, it’s still an hour or two before supper—which means it’s past time I head to the kitchen and start helping with food prep. It’s hard to care about cooking, though, when I have new abilities to explore. Instead of making for the storeroom, I tell Iski and Gugora I need to freshen up and change my clothes, and head upstairs.

I don’t head to my room, however. Using Soft Step, I tiptoe down the other side of the hall, stopping outside rooms Four and Five.

My mysterious savior was staying right next to the room where the noble died. And she was killed with the same poison I saw Cyros pocketing the day before. Not to mention Cyros and his partner—whose class was an assassin, no less—disappeared before the noble’s body was found. That’s a whole string of coincidences I find hard to swallow.

I try the noble’s door, but it’s been locked once more, and Gugora or Iski are probably holding the master key tight. I try Cyros’s door next—and it opens. That’s fair; Iski and Gugora didn’t have the insider knowledge I do to know something was up with these people. I quietly swing the door open and step inside.

The room is empty and clean. Iski or Gugora might have already cleaned it out in anticipation of new guests tonight. Too bad, I was hoping to find some clues. Even so, I poke around, using my Toxic Intuition to try to suss out any hints of poisonous materials. Either there wasn’t any to begin with, though, or the room was thoroughly cleaned, because my ability turns up nothing. I peek under the pillows. Look in the wardrobe. Glance under the bed.

Ah. What’s this? A tiny shaft of light is visible under one of the beds. It’s coming from a hole in the wall—the same wall that borders room five. I shuffle my way under until I can reach the crack, although up close it seems to be a hole, perfectly and artificially round.

I poke my finger through and give it a wiggle. Just slightly larger than my pointer finger: certainly not big enough to squeeze through, but large enough for, say, a vine to sneak through. Coincidence, or a clue?

The distant sound of thumping echoes up the stairs. I scramble to get out from under the bed and hurry to the door. Voices are drifting down the hall: the familiar rumble of Gugora, along with another voice I don’t recognize. They’re only a few doors down, and heading this way. I hesitate, my hand on the doorknob. Too late to slip out without them seeing me now. I freeze, mind racing, as I strain to catch a hint of their words.

“...understand how this looks,” the unfamiliar voice is saying.

“Completely,” Gugora says. “That’s why we contacted the City Guard as soon as it was discovered. You have our complete cooperation.”

The door next to me rattles, and the hinges squeak as they swing open. The voices move next to me, coming through the room’s wall.

“This is how you found her?” The new voice is male, gruff.

“Yes,” Gugora says. “She hasn’t been moved.”

“I should hope not,” he snorts. “Who all has been in here?”

“Only staff. Myself, Iski, Sal.”

“Who’s the last one?”

Gugora hesitates. “A new helper. She should be in her room now. We can speak with her after this.”

“I’ll be the one to decide that,” the man snaps. “How new?”

Gugora pauses again. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to answer. “A week.”

The man tuts. “Not a lot of trust there then, eh? Now, let’s have a look.”

I’m not sure I like the direction this conversation is going. Since they’re still in room four, and hopefully absorbed with the body therein, now’s my chance to sneak past. Don’t want them to go looking in my room, just for them to find that I was eavesdropping next door.

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Slowly, I ease the door open, careful not to make a sound. The hall is empty. Using Soft Step, I edge out into the hall. I’ll have to cross the open doorway of room four to make it back toward my room, but there’s no way around it. Just going to have to make a dash for it. I take a hasty step forward—

And step on the wrong board. It lets out a loud creak, and both men inside room four whip around to look. I cringe. Guess that’s why Soft Step is only 20% effective.

I force a smile. “Um, hello.”

“Who’s this?” the man demands.

Now that I can finally get a good look at him, I have Echo Check his stats.

[Name: Enrold]

[Species: Dhampyr]

[Class: Blood Guard]

[Level: 32]

[Attack: 75]

[Agility: 15]

[HP: 120/120]

His skin is an ashen gray, like all the pigment’s been sucked out, and two fangs curl over his bottom lip as he sneers. Enrold is wearing some kind of official looking uniform striped with shades of yellow and green. He looks me over, narrowing his eyes. The feeling is mutual.

“That’s Sal,” Gugora says. “The helper I told you about.”

“What are you doing?” Enrold demands. “Sneaking about, hm?”

“No,” I object. “I was just coming to find Gugora.”

“Were you now?” he says. “Coming from the dead-end side of the hall?”

Honestly, I’d hoped he hadn’t noticed. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’re acting awfully suspicious.” Enrold stalks out into the hall, and I retreat. He still towers over me. “Where was it you came from before you started working here? Why have you settled at this backwater inn?”

“Please,” Gugora says, following him out. “There’s no need for this. Sal is trustworthy.”

“Frankly, your word means nothing to me,” Enrold says. “I don’t trust any of you. But you, human, are the most suspicious of the lot. Turn out your pockets.”

My stomach drops. I forgot to clean out the sheath. It still has remnants of the poison in it—the same poison they’ll find in the noble’s cup. Something tells me this guy won’t believe it’s just a coincidence.

“It wasn’t me,” I say, edging my hand down toward the blade. “But I know who did it!”

“Do you, now?” He steps toward me even as I scramble back.

“Yes!” I cry. “It was a couple of people who stayed here last night. They poisoned the noble.”

“Is that so?” Enrold says. “And how do you know that?”

My hand lands on the sheath. His gaze follows my movement. He lunges forward at the same time I twist to the side.

Echo, add the sheath to my inventory! I think.

[Item added to inventory,] Echo says, and the knife vanishes, sheath and all, from under my hand.

Enrold grabs my arm and yanks me around with a snarl. “What was that?” he demands. “What have you got?”

“Nothing!” I cry, raising my free arm, showing my empty palms. “Nothing.”

A giant hand lands on Enrold’s shoulder. “Enough,” Gugora says. “I don’t allow fights in this establishment.”

Enrold smacks Gugora’s hand away. “You will allow for whatever I say. This inn still falls under the jurisdiction of Fairwood law.”

I try to pull away, but his grip only tightens painfully around my wrist.

[1 point of Crushing damage sustained.]

“Please stop,” I say. “You’re hurting me!”

He turns his attention back onto me, and his eyes are filled with cold amusement. He knows he’s hurting me, and he likes it.

I feel so helpless. He’s so much stronger than me. So much bigger. It’s just like Maru all over again.

Bitterness stings through me like a wasp, and I’m filled with the sudden urge to pull that knife back out from my inventory and use it to stab him in the arm. I tremble with barely contained rage. How dare he treat me like this? He has no right. I haven’t done anything wrong!

Enrold sneers at me. “Look at you, shaking like a leaf. I knew you were guilty. Let’s go. You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not!” I object, digging my heels in. He effortlessly drags me across the floor. “This is a misunderstanding!”

I lurch to a stop as Enrold abruptly stops. Craning my head around, I can make out Gugora holding Enrold’s wrist just as he’s holding mine. Something dangerous is stirring in Gugora’s eyes. His face is hard. His jaw clenched. It’s only the smallest departure from his normal demeanor, but it’s a look I’ve never seen before, and it frightens me.

“Let her go,” Gugora says, his tone terse.

Enrold squirms in his grasp, but despite the dhampyr’s size and physique, even he’s dwarfed by the orc’s stature. He might as well be trying to push through a brick wall.

“I will do no such thing,” Enrold snaps. “This girl is a likely suspect in the murder of a high profile noble, which we will confirm back at the guild. Even if she’s not the murderer, she claims to know who is, which at the very least makes her an important witness. She’s coming with me, one way or another. And if you do not unhand me this moment, I will be forced to interpret your actions as sedition against Fairwood law.” He pauses, raising a critical eyebrow at Gugora. “Unless you could offer me some incentive to convince me otherwise?”

I blink between the two, uncomprehending. Gugora’s jaw is clenched tight, muscles standing out on his neck like cords of rope.

“All we have is in the lockbox downstairs,” he says tightly.

“What?” I say, Enrold’s words finally hitting me. “No way! That’s not fair!” I can feel my blood boiling as a smile curls over Enrold’s lips. I hate him. I hate him so much.

I angrily whip my head in Gugora’s direction. “Let him go. I’ll go with him,” I say. “We both know I didn’t do it. I’ll be fine.”

“Sal,” he starts, but I cut him off.

“I’ll be fine!” I insist. There’s no way I’m going to let Enrold use me to extort money from Gugora and Iski. I’d rather be arrested. “Trust me.”

Gugora stares at me for a long moment, teeth grinding slowly back and forth. Then, like releasing a scolded cat, he drops Enrold’s arm.

The dhampyr snorts, straightening out his crumpled uniform. “A wise decision. But test me like that again, and I won’t treat the situation with nearly so much leniency.” Even so, the glare he gives both of us tells me he’s none too pleased with the result. Seems he’d rather have taken the money than my cooperation. I return his look with a sneer of my own. I’ll take my wins where I can get them.

I stumble forward as Enrold starts down the stairs without warning and I’m dragged along after. I glance back at Gugora, who’s watching me go. That frightening look I’d seen just a minute ago is gone, replaced with a frown of worry.

“Do what they say,” he says after me. “Cooperate. You’ll be alright.”

I sure hope so. But I don’t have an abundance of faith in Enrold’s sense of honor. At the bottom of the stairs, two guards in similar attire turn to face us. Iski pokes her head around them, alarmed.

“Hey! What are you doing? What’s going on?” she demands.

Enrold ignores her. “Found what we need. Hatsu,” he says to a dryad guard, “go do your thing with the body. Jules, take the girl. We’ll be off as soon as they’re done.”

Enrold finally relinquishes his iron grip on my wrist as he hands me over to Jules, who steers me away by the elbow much less forcefully. I rub my wrist, kneading out the pins and needles, as I shoot daggers at Enrold. He blatantly ignores me, like I’m not even worth his attention, and heads over to Iski to talk.

“Come on,” Jules says, gesturing toward the front door. “It will be easiest if you cooperate.”

Yeah, I’m getting that. I cast one last glance over my shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of Gugora or Iski, but I’m unable to catch sight of either of them. Then, I’m outside.

“Your boss is an ass,” I tell Jules.

The woman presses her mouth into a line. “Talk like that will not make you many allies.”

I scoff. I’m not looking for allies, and I certainly wouldn’t want any from this lot.

Maru, I think, scrawling her name out on a mental ledger. Then, beneath it, I write, Enrold.