“...Those two?”
“Correct. Now, avert your eyes.” Hrer gently pushed Stroud’s head to the side. “Most Walkers are hunters by trade, so they develop a pretty impressive ability to sense danger or that they’re being watched. They’re much more in tune with the nature of both predators and prey. The city only alters the terrain, but the dynamic of the hunt remains the same.”
“I got it…” Stroud replied quietly, leaning more casually against the balcony’s railing. “So, what’s next?”
Hrer ripped a strip of cloth from a shirt on the clothesline hanging behind them and used it to tie his long hair back in a tight ponytail. “Probe them out. I want you to tell me who you think is the more dangerous of the two.”
“And if I get caught?”
“We leave.” Hrer shrugged. “They won’t seek us out for a confrontation, but neither will we get anything accomplished for the day. That means no merits.”
Stroud inhaled a deep breath and shot another glance at the rough-looking men currently shaking down an old shopkeep further up the street. Resigned, he released a strand of mental energy.
He had to work quickly while they were in sight, so the shaping of his spiritual perception was a little rough, but he managed to thin and stretch it out, capping it off at a sharp point like a sewing needle attached to a length of yarn.
After receiving a nod of approval from Hrer, he mentally reared back and heaved the thread of will down the narrow lane as if he was casting out a fishing line.
Fortunately, there weren’t many pedestrians around as they’d mostly been scared off by the thugs, so even though Stroud’s control over the mental energy was poor at such a long distance, he made it successfully into the vicinity of the two men without accidentally latching onto someone else.
“Good work,” Hrer commended. “Neither of them have spiritual wards up, so the rest should be easy.”
Stroud grumbled internally. It would’ve been even easier if they didn’t position themselves so far away.
During their earlier practice session, he’d gotten a hang Spiritual Probing almost immediately. Given, it wasn’t any sort of complicated technique, but if he hadn't been told its purpose and how to achieve it, it was something he may never have stumbled on himself. The method essentially just involved thinning out a portion of spiritual perception to the utmost, so that when you used it to prick someone, it wouldn’t feel any different than a tiny pinch or a bug bite, and may go ignored altogether.
Whereas, in the case that a target didn’t even have any defenses up, piercing into their Sea of Nura to inspect it was almost laughably easy — at least, according to Hrer. And in this case, the scarred man’s words proved to be true.
As the needle of perception crept within striking distance of the Tundra Walker gang members, it suddenly lunged forward like a snake, full of subtle and venomous aggression as it pierced into the gut of the left-most man before departing just as swiftly.
Solely based on appearances, he would’ve been the one Stroud pegged as the most threatening. A tall and broad baldy with thick muscles and dark eyes that constantly darted around with a trace of wariness.
But the presence of magic in this world made many things unpredictable. A truth that Stroud was made aware of yet again on this occasion.
When he moved on, the gangly, short-haired man on the right’s Sea of Nura revealed significantly more potent fluctuations of energy as Stroud slipped past his defenses.
Retracting his spiritual perception, the tension in Stroud’s brow eased, but in the same moment, his stomach sunk. “The thin man should be more dangerous. Based on my experience… he’s almost reached the level of a Magus.”
“Aye…” Hrer sighed dramatically, arching his back as he gazed toward the sun. “The tragic fate of many. So close to reaching the lofty status of Magus, and yet… due to their poor aptitude — they’re designated to the role of a mere thug. Destined to never reach those heights.” There was a hint of self-deprecation in his words that Stroud didn’t miss.
“Now what? Do we just keep following them from a distance?”
“Precisely.” Not bothering to explain himself further, Hrer ducked back into the abandoned, rotting building they’d invaded while looking for their targets and made his way down the stairs.
Stroud followed him back onto the street, resisting the temptation to pinch his nose as the stench of festering waste assaulted him with greater force. The smells pervading the outer city were never pleasant anywhere you went, but somehow, in the slums south of The Bellows, it was magnified by many degrees.
“Hold up.” Hrer grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into the shade before they proceeded after the Walkers.
A generous helping of dirt and soot was then smeared all over Stroud’s face, neck, and even his clothes in the ensuing moment. Hrer handled him roughly like he was a busy mother applying sunscreen to their child before letting them run off to play.
“Consider this your first real test,” the man continued as he held Stroud at arms-length to inspect him. “You’re going to take the lead.” A pointed look cut off any protest. “Your job is simply to take note of where they stop and who they speak with. Consider any extra information you manage to glean as a bonus.”
“You’ll have to take care of tasks like this on your own in the future. Plus…” Hrer gave his best attempt at what Stroud could only assume was a dashing smile. “Someone as handsome and recognizable as me has much less freedom to stroll about as I please in Frostrane. There’s a reason I have to spend most of my time hiding around The Bellows… Take this with you as well. Just in case.”
Hrer pressed a small dagger into his palm before he departed, diving into the deep shadows that stood in stark opposition to the tall and densely packed white buildings. The man was wearing dark leathers, so Stroud was only able to follow his movements for a few short seconds before he seemed to blur and fade from sight.
Left standing alone on the ramshackle, tiled street, Stroud slouched dejectedly. Though not as an open display of his emotions, but rather, to adapt to the caricature he’d been so abruptly disposed. A dirty, downtrodden vagrant of the slums.
Hunchbacked and half-limping, Stroud dragged himself up the road toward where they’d last spotted the two Walkers...
A few breaths later, a muted sigh of relief escaped his lips. They were still there, engaged in their heated argument with the vendor.
Stroud cowered and stumbled into an alley like a drunkard when he entered into their range of vision. Back pressed against a partially crumbling wall, he dared not look. Instead, he strained his ears, listening carefully to the undulating pitch of their voices.
“...God’s sake, Ralf! Was the first time Trelti broke your hand not enough!”
“Course it was, you idiot! But it took me near the whole winter to recover... And if I didn't have the money then, what makes you think I’ll suddenly have it now!” Rough, heavy breathing followed the shopkeeper's indignant cry.
“Look, old man… The rules have always been simple. You cooperate with us and pay the fee for doing business on our turf — or we have fellows like Trelti take the fee anyway and leave you with a gift. It’s not hard to figure out which of the two is less painful.”
“Gah—! Curse you! Curse you two godsdamned disgraces to our ancestors! May you forever burn in the flames of purgatory alongside The Deseras'—!”
A shiver crawled up Stroud’s spine as he heard the skinny thug who had been speaking with Ralf issue a cumbersome sigh. The sigh was shortly followed by a loud, sickening crunch and an anguished cry.
“...Have the money ready next time, Ralf. What we’ve taken today isn’t enough. The boss has less and less patience for any holdouts, and we’d rather not have to ask your son washing dishes over at Margo’s to make up the difference.”
“You better leave Sid out of this! I swear if you two lay a hand on him—!” The man was cut off by the crisp sound of palm striking flesh.
“Enough, Ralf! You better learn how to hold your tongue or next time we’ll be taking it… C’mon Trelti, we’ve wasted enough time here…”
Realizing the two were about to take their leave, Stroud peeked around the corner and sent out another sliver of his spiritual perception. He swiftly latched it onto the burly man and ducked away again.
Seeing as they hadn’t noticed his probing the first time, he surmised that moving through the alleys running parallel to the road the safest way to trail the men unnoticed. He could maintain a good distance from them by following this thread, then sneak try and closer whenever they came to a halt.
Sure, he’d been given a disguise, but that didn’t mean he had to make thorough use of it.
'Out of sight, out of mind,' he murmured. And so it began...
Shit and indiscernible muck caked Stroud’s boots in no time at all as he ran lightly through the tight passageways. His two targets had been moving through their rounds at a fairly decent pace. They mostly stuck to the main thoroughfares through the slums, whereas his chosen method of tracking caused more than just the occasional detour around certain clusters of buildings when he came upon dead ends or diverging offshoots. He discovered early on that he still knew too little about the area; the network of alleys and paths was more complex than anticipated.
And ultimately, this roundabout method of chasing them around quickly left him exhausted — even though he was afforded relatively frequent breaks whenever the two men stopped for one of their shakedowns.
On and on they continued for the better part of the late afternoon hours, winding in a circuitous loop through the slums…
***
“...Alright then, Druum. Originally, you were short this time, but with this... we can let it go. Consider yourself fortunate that your wife is so capable as an herb-gatherer. Our boss will like these Srodgess leaves. Make sure to save any you find in the future for us.”
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Stroud crouched listlessly in the shadows nearby; it was just another standard shakedown, and the burden on his knees and his concentration had grown increasingly heavy due to the constant repetition.
However, a sudden jolt ran through his mind when the Srodgess was mentioned. His ears perked up eagerly. To think these goons would get their hands on Srodgess… Fuck!
Not only was Srodgess probably worth a few gold, but it was also another one of the main ingredients required for Blood Steeping. Stroud’s eyes blazed with a hint of desire, but only for a moment. For now, he could only mark this particular vendor and location as important in his mental notes.
After restraining his breathing and surging emotions alike, Stroud straightened himself up to prepare to leave.
“Of course, of course, Eira…” the current victim hurriedly replied. “My Rundr knows all the best spots in the Crosspar Mountains. I’ll make sure to give her a reminder when she returns.”
“Good. See that you do.”
The steady plodding of two sets of footsteps faded around the corner as the string of spiritual perception extending from Stroud slowly stretched taut. “Gods… how much longer will this continue…” he muttered to himself as he spurred into motion.
The subtle chill in the air had grown significantly more pronounced, seeping into his clothes damp with sweat as the sunlight drained from the clear blue sky, leaving behind vibrant trails of orange and pink.
Hrer hadn’t given him any indication of a timeframe, nor had he made another appearance since they separated, so Stroud could only continue on.
His only glimmer of hope that this very... very long day was finally nearing its end — was a few familiar landmarks. It appeared that Eira and Trelti were nearly back to the original location where he'd begun the pursuit.
“Whad’ya think, Eira? We got enough?” Trelti’s deep voice carried across the empty street and into Stroud’s waiting ears.
“...Should be,” Eira mused, slowly. “Though, we’ve been getting more and more holdouts. If it wasn’t for that coward, Druum, handing over the Srodgess at the end… we might ‘av had to creep near the Verum to make up the difference.”
Trelti rumbled some form of non-committal agreement that Stroud couldn’t make out, but it was Eira’s follow-up that subsequently set him alight with both interest and joy.
“Let’s head back and dump it then…”
“Mhm.”
Finally! This is it! Stroud was elated. This was his chance to make a contribution.
With his heartbeat echoing loudly in his ears, Stroud waited for a short time, then crept after them. Shivers of anticipation and nervousness swept through his body like little snakes of lightning; the adrenaline brought everything into a crystal-clear focus in his unblinking eyes.
Opportunity was abound, but he also knew that this was also when his mission had become the most dangerous.
No longer was he alone in the darkness as the two Walkers now also traveled off the beaten path. And it was because of this that Stroud decided to maintain an even greater distance, paying close attention to the tautness of the strand of mental energy attached to Trelti.
Back and forth the spiritual probe went. A solo game of tug o’ war commenced in a state of fragile balance. Because just as he was, the two thugs were much more alert and cautious than they’d been out on the street.
There were occasions when the Walkers suddenly doubled back or waited for brief periods around a corner... Stroud thought he'd quickly grow accustomed to it after a while, but every time that length of spiritual perception slackened — his heart would leap into his throat.
However, what eventually grew even more concerning was that the game still had yet to come to an end.
At first, he’d assumed that Eira and Trelti were just walking through their standard procedure — employing tricks they were taught to throw off any pursuers and disguise the location of their safehouse.
But now, real darkness was beginning to settle, and Stroud could see the faint outline of the twin moons emerging. They were set wide apart in the sky at this point in the season, but a very similar glint of mischievousness was still present in their burgeoning light as they looked down upon the world.
Should I turn back? Also, where the fuck is Hrer? He had confidence that the man was lingering somewhere nearby… And test’s aside, this seemed like an appropriate time to reconvene. Something was evidently not right.
Another gust of evening air blew by and Stroud shivered.
He was cold, and his fear was using that chill to creep it’s way back inside. But at the same time, an unwillingness he hadn’t felt in a long while burned deep in his chest. The two opposing feelings battled for control.
...Isn't this just what it takes? Stroud was frustrated. Not with the situation, but himself. After hearing from Hrer I knew what this job would entail! Dowd isn't wrong to suggest I prioritize safety, but my circumstances are very different from others.
Ten years at best... I have to overcome the deficiencies of this body and become a Magus. And I'll never get anywhere close if I don't accumulate merits.
As the two men up ahead suddenly disappeared into the denser shadows of an offshoot of the long alleyway, Stroud clenched his jaw and reached into his coat to procure two items.
In his left hand, he clutched one of the Spark talismans while he raised the vial in his other hand up to his lips. Using his teeth, he ripped away the cork stopper that was sealing the potent raw Nura inside the glass and spit it into the dirt. He poured the remaining liquid into his mouth and squirreled it into his cheek.
Then, with the vial back in his coat and a dagger now clutched tightly in his right palm, Stroud slid forward, pressing himself closer to the nearest wall.
The mental link with his target showed no signs of movement, but the sharp sound of knuckles rapping on wood let him know the moment he had been waiting for had arrived.
They're here...
Stroud’s adrenaline that had been constantly surging up and down in waves for the last hour or so, suddenly roared back in a more forceful torrent than it ever had. He captured everything around him in excruciating detail.
The sequence of knocks...
The offshoot’s relative position to the main streets nearby...
These were all the particulars that were crucial for him to memorize.
But in the end… one also needed to be alive and present to eventually make that report.
A sinister voice sounded behind him and it pierced Stroud’s body with a biting chill that the wind could never achieve. “Well, well… It looks like we finally caught the rat that’s been scurryin’ around all day.”
Eira’s broken-toothed smirk met Stroud's gaze as he whipped around to face the man.
Goosebumps emerged on his skin, and though he knew it was of little use, Stroud still held his dagger out threateningly. At the very least, it would distract their eyes from the talisman held closely against his side.
“What’re you after, Rat? Don’t tell me yer actually one of them little chicks always squawking for morsels from the big mother bird atop the mountain…”
Stroud didn’t respond. He couldn’t, in fact. The left half of his face had gone almost completely numb from holding in the Nura for so long. He needed to take action — and quick — because the loss of sensation was even beginning to affect his vision.
All around him, he saw the drawn-out shadows drifting around the area with sadistic glee — their stillness disturbed by the competing ripples of amber and silver moonlight... and Trelti’s large frame that approached from behind.
Rough surges of spiritual perception charged at Stroud from either side, but he swiftly blocked them off by wrapping himself in a Ward. His grasp of the technique was barely passable, but he didn’t need much more than that to fend off these two.
Unfortunately, that would not be enough of a deterrence. Eira’s confidence was gone, replaced by a thin frown, but he remained rooted in place.
The man’s fingers twitched, eliciting a flinch from Stroud and a step forward from Trelti. They were currently locked in a tense standoff, but the gap between all three of them was slowly and subtly closing.
I haven’t even begun… Faded memories of the Chasm of Souls flickered through Stroud’s mind. The endless void of inky despair that dyed even the brightest of souls its color… There was nothing else like it, and it was waiting for him. Again. The twisted beast was still lying in wait with its maw opened wide, and this time — he cut a much more appetizing meal.
But even as the thorns cutting into his heart writhed in agitation, Stroud’s mouth spread into a precarious smile, almost causing the Nura to spill from his lips. Self-mocking laughter echoed through his mind.
Truly, how can the darkness of this world even compare…? Have I really become so weak that I can’t even confront these paltry shadows?
I'm still so caught up in what I left behind that I haven't taken a close look at the obstacles ahead of me.
Stroud breathed in deeply through his nose as his thoughts cleared. And in his vision, lacking as it may currently be, it appeared as if the light spilling from Naleen would be much brighter than her sister's on this night.
In this piss and shit… This will not be where I fall.
A blaze of warmth spread outward from the depths of Stroud’s soul as he adjusted his grip on the dagger. He knew he needed to make the first move or it would already be too late if Eira or Trelti got jumpy and cast a spell.
Hrer… Don’t let me down.
With a swift swing of his forearm, Stroud flung the dagger forward. He cared not if it even connected with his target; all he needed it to do was provide a momentary distraction.
He spun around to face Trelti in the ensuing breath, ducking low as he charged toward the large man. The strand of mental energy was still pierced solidly into his opponent's Sea of Nura, so he could clearly feel its stirring as the Walker reacted to his attack.
But spell or not, the man could crush him easily with his bare hands, so he had no intention of confronting him head-on.
As his surroundings distorted further due to the sudden burst of motion and the ever-growing numbness of his face, Stroud slackened his jaw and spit out a portion of his burden onto the talisman still clutched in his other hand.
Thanks to a single round of testing before his meeting with Dowd in the morning, he knew he only had a second or two before the spell activated once the parchment was saturated with Nura.
So with arms-outstretched, Stroud dove to the right of Trelti and slapped the talisman onto whatever part of the man’s body he managed to come into contact with.
The maneuver was successful, but Stroud landed hard on his shoulder. Pain shocked his system, and he could only do his best to ignore it as he rolled to the side with all his might, just managing to avoid the massive gauntleted fist that smashed into the ground at his previous location.
Chunks of stone and mud scattered through the air from the massive impact, followed by a blinding flash of vivid blue light.
Trelti’s pained groaned sounded out like the suppressed growl of some massive beast, and as Stroud recovered his feet, he saw the man sink heavily to one knee.
The results were better than he had anticipated. Stroud hadn’t expected much from a tier 0 spell, but he was more than happy to be proven wrong at this moment. And he also knew he couldn’t allow his surprise to ruin this opportunity.
Hrer still hadn’t made an appearance, and he would need to do more than just temporarily stun one of the two thugs in order to escape.
Stroud fished the last talisman from his coat as he crouched down and positioned Trelti’s body between himself and Eira. The last bit of Nura spewed from the active corner of his mouth and in rapid succession — he smacked the damp talisman onto the struggling man’s exposed scalp.
However, the burly Walker was unwilling to go down so easily.
Rope-like muscles and blue veins bulged from Trelti’s neck as he grit his teeth and struggled mightily against the discharge of lightning that had paralyzed his nerves. His mountainous aura surged while he unleashed a primal roar and swung out his fist that was covered in a thick layer of stone.
Stroud had dodged backward, but he was still clipped by the blow.
All the air left his lungs as he was sent flying from the impact. But in such a narrow alley, his flight didn’t last long. He smashed into the worn white wall, sinking back slowly as a metallic taste filled his mouth.
Blue light flashed again, revealing a bloody smile of satisfaction as the final notes of Trelti’s cry were sharply cut-off.
“No! Trelti—!” Eira’s shout pierced through the still air, and the silence that followed trembled with uncertainty.
“You little fucking rat!” Eira stalked past his partner’s fallen form, a hazy green mist condensing in his hand. The man’s scowl shifted back and forth between intense rage and sorrow several times in a matter of moments. “I swear… I swear to you...”
Stroud tried desperately to distance himself from the oncoming storm of anger, but the sharp pain in his ribs caused his breath to hitch with every slight twitch of his body. And the remaining strength in his arms and legs would not carry him far, regardless.
“...If Trelti is dead… then I swear I’ll—!”
“Then you’ll what?” A composed voice interrupted, drifting past Stroud’s ears like a warm summer breeze.
Eira’s body stiffened and the vaguely shaped green blob in his palm fell apart. It seeped through the cracks between his fingers, hissing angrily as it dripped onto the ground…
The man looked down at the thin throwing knife lodged in his chest with wide eyes. But when he looked back up, there was actually a hint of mockery lacing his red eyes.
“Ha! Poison! You think poison can—”
Lifeless, Eira slumped forward, his head landing just short of Stroud’s boots.
A splash and a deep sigh arrived behind Stroud as Hrer jumped down from the roof where he'd been perched.
“Well, kid. Boss ain’t gonna be too happy about this one…”
The disappointment in his tone was heavy, but as Stroud and Hrer made eye contact, two wolfish grins flashed through the dark all the same.