The frosty morning air stung Justin’s cheeks as he, Lila, Eldrin, and Kargan made their way through the winding streets of Windfall. The snow had stopped falling, but the remnants clung stubbornly to the cobblestones, making each step a cautious one. Despite the chilly morning, the streets were full of life. The city was still alive with the Autumn Festival, a celebration that filled the air with the scents of roasting chestnuts, spiced wine, and freshly baked bread. Colorful banners hung from every building, fluttering in the crisp breeze, while the sound of laughter and music echoed through the streets. Jugglers and acrobats performed for delighted children, and vendors called out to passersby, offering their wares of handmade crafts and seasonal treats.
“It’s the last day of the Festival,” Eldrin said, his voice barely audible over the din. “It should serve as decent cover.”
They reached the main square and Eldrin led them onto a narrow street that took them north, directly toward the main mountain looming over Windfall. The square was completely packed with revelers, and a stage had been set up in front of the clock tower. The crowd buzzed with anticipation for an upcoming announcement, while musicians played lively tunes to keep the energy high.
The entrance to Thalgar’s Tunnel was impossible to miss. Its dark, imposing archway opened into the side of the mountain. Two heavily armed guards stood at attention in front of the gate, their breath visible in the frigid air. The gate itself was massive and solid, resembling the heavy, fortified doors of a castle, with thick iron bars that ran vertically and horizontally, reinforcing its strength.
“Closed,” Kargan remarked, eyeing the gate warily.
“Perhaps it’s still too early in the day,” Eldrin suggested. “Let me handle this.”
As Eldrin approached the watchmen, Justin noted the griffin emblazoned on their black surcoats, the emblem of the city of Highcliff. The Ranger offered the guards a friendly smile. “Happy Festival, friends! We need passage through Thalgar’s Tunnel.”
One guard, a broad-shouldered man with a clean-shaven face and rosy cheeks, shook his head. “Tunnel’s closed.”
Eldrin frowned. “Closed? On account of the Festival?”
The guard exchanged a glance with his companion before answering, “There was an…incident. The Gate’s been ordered shut until further notice.”
Eldrin remained unfazed. “Well, it’s certainly nothing four seasoned adventurers can’t manage.” When the guards remained silent, he reached into his pouch, producing two five-silver coins. “I can make it worth your while.”
The lead guard looked at the coins, then shook his head firmly. “Can’t do it. Five marks are not worth my job. Orders are orders. Only the mayor himself can overrule them.”
Eldrin’s frustration was evident, but he kept his cool. He reached into his pouch as he produced twenty more silver marks, which made for twenty-five for each guard. The second guard’s eyes glazed over with greed.
“You need not open it all the way,” the Ranger said quietly. “Just a hair. No one is watching with the festivities going on.”
The first guard seemed to consider for a moment but shook his head. “The answer is still no. And if you attempt to bribe me again, I shall have to arrest you.”
“That must be a month’s pay for you,” Eldrin said. “Imagine how much it could help.”
The guard smirked. “Never let it be said the Windfall Watch lacks honor.”
“Honor or not, I’m determined to go through today. Where can we find the mayor?”
The guard shrugged. “Well, it’s a big day for the city, so he could be anywhere. He’s supposed to inaugurate the Autumn Games this morning, but after that, he’ll be up at the Harrington House. There’s some fancy event going on there today. A lot of the city’s higher-ups are attending.”
“The Harrington House,” Lila said, a glimmer of hope in her voice. “We’re in luck! We got an invitation to that just yesterday.”
Eldrin arched an eyebrow, clearly surprised. There had been no chance to update Eldrin on everything.
“Lord Harrington himself extended it to me,” Justin added. “Maybe we can ask for the mayor’s help there.”
The guard’s skepticism was apparent as he looked them over—travel-worn and clearly not in the attire one might expect for such an event. But an official invitation carried weight, and after a moment’s hesitation, the guard nodded. “You might have a shot. But don’t expect much unless he has a reason to help you.”
“We should head up there,” Eldrin said. “If we leave now, we’ll there in time to intercept him.”
The guard looked like he was holding back laughter. “You’re not getting in looking like that.”
“We’ll have to try,” Eldrin said, his tone unyielding. “You’ll be getting those orders within a few hours, I promise you that. And then you’ll wish you took my coin.”
The guard smiled, clearly thinking this was all talk. It gave Justin motivation to prove him wrong.
Eldrin turned to the others. “Let’s move.”
The Ranger led them up a side alley, which took them back to the main street where they’d done their shopping the day before. The storefronts gave way to larger, more ornate dwellings as they climbed higher into the wealthier district of the city. The closer they got, the more opulent the surroundings became. The houses were larger, more elegant, with wrought iron fences and tall, snow-covered hedges. The roads were better maintained, the snow cleared to reveal pristine stone. Fancy carriages rolled by from time to time, sometimes carrying the laughter of nobles being transported within.
Lord Harrington’s home was the largest of all, situated at the very end of the street. The manor was a sprawling, grand estate, with towering columns and wide marble steps leading up to the entrance. The windows were tall and arched, and the roof topped with elegant spires. The entire structure exuded an air of timeless wealth and power.
Justin set his thoughts upon the Ring of Hygiene, and within the instant, was perfectly cleaned and groomed. While the others wouldn’t get the same benefit, it was a necessary step for him. He straightened his new top hat. As a Socialite, this was his element, and he’d have to rise to the occasion.
A pair of black-liveried footmen stood beside a large iron gate through which they could see the manor’s grand entrance. A line of carriages was already forming as guests arrived.
Justin, Eldrin, and Lila walked up to the gate on foot, and the lead guard, a tall man with a sharp nose and an air of authority, seemed to be checking everyone’s invitations as they entered. He eyed them first with confusion; while Justin was dressed the part, the rest were not dressed as richly. Then, the footman’s expression became one of thinly veiled disdain. “The servants’ entrance is on the side.”
Justin activated his Dandy’s Swagger skill, strutting forward and puffing out his chest. “The nerve! We’re not servants, but honored guests. I’m Lord Talemaker, of the same house.”
“Talemaker,” the guard repeated skeptically. “I’m unaware of any noble house with that—”
Justin thrust the invitation right in his face, and he ensured his voice would drip with superiority. “Lord Harrington invited me himself. I will not suffer insolence from a lowly guard like you.”
The guard’s blue eyes widened as he took in Justin’s friends, and he seemed to hesitate. “Sir, there is a certain code of dress for this event, and this code is strictly—”
“My carriage tumbled over outside the city, so my morning has already gone poorly. My companions are dressed for travel, and we meant to change once we’re inside. Why am I explaining myself to a peon like you? You should know your place, sir!” Justin’s haughty tone intensified, and he tilted his nose upward.
“All right, my lord! Forgive me,” the guard stammered. “You have the invitation. Head to the front and ask for Mr. Willoughby, the butler.”
“Good riddance!” Justin said, nodding at the others and twirling his cane. With his head held high, he strode toward the house, his nose in the air as they passed through the gate.
As they walked up the marble steps, the manor’s grandeur loomed even larger. The sense of stepping into another world—one of power, privilege, and influence—was undeniable. For a moment, Justin felt the weight of their mission, the stakes of what they were about to undertake. But with each step, his confidence grew. This was his arena, for what his class was built.
“It’s showtime, baby,” Justin said, his voice laced with confidence, an affect of his Dandy’s Swagger. As he surveyed the others, they looked far less assured. “Here’s the thing: act like the most entitled, spoiled brat you’ve ever met, and then dial it up ten times further. Don’t overthink what you’re going to say—powerful people don’t bother with that. They just say whatever comes to mind because they never have to deal with the consequences. They’re so used to getting their way that it doesn’t even occur to them that someone might question it.”
Eldrin nodded, though his expression remained wary. “We got it, Justin. But what about our clothing? We don’t exactly look the part.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Justin replied with a dismissive wave. “It’s not about what you’re wearing; it’s about how you wear it. Confidence is everything. We can say we were trying to venture down into the Tunnel to take out a dangerous Vault; that can explain our dress and weapons.”
“That would create a trail,” Eldrin pointed out. “People would remember we asked about the gate.”
“The Mayor’s going to find out, anyway,” Lila said. “What counts is making it all happen. We have to push through.”
Eldrin sighed. “Seems we’re all out of options. Now, Justin, I’m going to defer to you. This is your element.”
Justin nodded as they reached the stone steps that led to the entrance of the manor. The prospect made him a little nervous, but he was also eager to use his skills.
They reached the front steps. The butler, who had to be Mr. Willoughby, was a tall, thin man with a narrow face and piercing gray eyes. His uniform was immaculate, the black coat and white gloves spotless, giving him an air of strict professionalism. His expression, however, was far from welcoming. It was a look of barely concealed scorn, as if he couldn’t quite believe that these travel-worn adventurers were attempting to enter the Harrington estate.
“Good morning,” the butler said, his tone clipped and cold. “May I assist you?”
Justin didn’t miss a beat. He stepped forward, brandishing the invitation with a flourish. “You must be Mr. Willoughby. You may indeed help us. We’re here as guests of Lord Harrington, and I expect the proper treatment, unlike your footman at the gate. Vile man! It’s already been a dreadful morning—our carriage overturned on the way here, and we’re hardly in the mood for delays. Now, if you’ll kindly stop wasting our time and show us inside.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
The butler’s eyes flicked over the invitation, then back to Justin and his companions, along with their weapons and packs. His lips pressed into a thin line. “Sir, there is a certain standard of dress expected at this event, and I’m afraid your servants—”
“Standards? Really?” Justin interrupted, his voice rising in mock outrage. “You think I don’t know that? I’m Lord Talemaker, and I’ll let you know I’m fully aware of your so-called ‘standards.’ Unfortunately, our situation doesn’t exactly lend itself to your delicate sensibilities. Now, unless you want to explain to Lord Harrington why his esteemed guests were turned away, I suggest you reconsider your approach.”
The butler’s face tightened, but he knew he was cornered. The invitation was legitimate, and Justin’s bluster left him little room to argue. “Of course, my lord,” he said stiffly. “If you’ll follow me.”
Without another word, the butler led them up the stone steps and into the manor. The warmth of the interior was a welcome relief from the cold outside. The entrance hall was vast, with lofty ceilings and walls adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of battles and grand hunts. A large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden light over everything. The murmur of voices from the adjoining rooms hinted at the number of guests already in attendance.
As they followed Mr. Willoughby deeper into the manor, Justin couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph. They were in. Now, all they had to do was find the mayor and secure his help. He glanced at Lila, who offered a small, encouraging smile. They were playing a dangerous game, but it was one they couldn’t afford to lose.
The butler led them to a smaller room off to the side of the main hall, where a servant offered to take their coats and packs. Justin preferred to keep his gear close, but toting around heavy packs would just make them stick out even more, so he consented to let the servant take those. The weapons they elected to keep; from the surrounding nobles bearing canes and swords, they wouldn’t be the only ones. They all decided to keep their outer clothing. Justin, for one, didn’t want to lose his Coat of Highcliff’s Elegance which gave him a nice boost.
One relieved of their packs, they were ushered into the main reception area—a grand ballroom filled with well-dressed guests. The men wore tailored suits, and the women were adorned in elegant gowns, the colorful fabrics shimmering in the chandelier’s light.
Lord Harrington was easy to spot, standing near the center of the room, holding court with a group of other distinguished guests. His presence was commanding with his suit and new top hat, this one with a peacock’s feather. He moved with the confidence of someone who was used to being the center of attention.
Justin took a deep breath and led the way over to him. As they approached, Lord Harrington noticed them and raised an eyebrow in surprise. But then his expression softened into a welcoming smile.
“Ah, Mr. Talemaker, you’ve made it!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying a note of genuine pleasure. He turned to the other gentleman. “This is the one I told you about, who bested me in the social duel yesterday.”
There was an appreciative murmur from the surrounding guests, and Justin waved it away with a smile. “Lord Harrington, you flatter me. I was merely trying to keep up with a man of your caliber.”
Lord Harrington chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. “Well, I’m beyond delighted. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to attend.” He turned to Lila, bowing slightly. “And of course, the Lady Lila Fairwind, Bard of Beauty.”
Justin gave a light-hearted grin, sliding his arm around Lila’s waist. “Careful, Harrington, I’ve got a reputation to maintain here.”
Harrington laughed, the sound more genuine this time. “Ah, no harm meant, Mr. Talemaker. Please, make yourselves at home! But my, it looks as though you’re off for an adventure!”
“Aye, so I was,” Justin said, his voice filled with a touch of regret. “My lady and I hired these fine professionals to venture into Thalgar’s Tunnel.” He nodded toward Eldrin and Kargan. “This is strictly between us—and these esteemed gentlemen here—but there are rumors of a Vault opening on the other side in the Everwood, and I plan to be first to claim the prize while everyone else is preoccupied with the festivities.”
A noble with a stern expression, blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes, with a longsword resting at his waist, gave Justin a cool look before offering a slight, formal bow. “Lord Bohemund Ashcroft, of the same county. Now, what’s this about a Vault? I’ve heard nothing of the sort, and I usually keep an ear to the ground for these matters. I’m no stranger to the sword myself and wouldn’t mind a sojourn into the Everwood at this time of year.”
Justin met Bohemund’s gaze with a confident smile. “Ah, a fellow adventurer, I see. But you know how it is with such information—it tends to flow through certain channels before reaching the broader crowd. A few of my sources, who owe me some favors, whispered of the Vault just yesterday. Timing, as you know, is everything, wouldn’t you agree?”
He let the words linger for a moment, giving the impression that he was knowledgeable, someone with access to valuable, exclusive information. Then, with a slight shrug, he continued. “But alas, I found the gate to be closed this morning, and the city guards were most disagreeable. Usually, a few silvers are enough to get what you want, but this one was stubborn, saying only the mayor could remedy the situation.”
“Ah, aren’t commoners just the worst?” Lord Harrington said, rolling his eyes. “They can be so uppity! Well, Mayor Carlisle himself will be in attendance, and soon if I understand things correctly. In fact, we have distinguished guests coming from all over Aranthia, even as far as Belmora. Tell me, from where does your noble house hail?”
“West of Mistwatch, in the Wildwood,” Justin said smoothly.
“Ah! Those lands are ripe for development. The hunting is good, I hear! Are the Forest Goblins not a problem, though?”
“Nothing a good thwack of my cane can’t manage!”
Justin mimed the action, and the nobles burst into amused, haughty laughter, their jeweled fingers covering smirking mouths and their eyes glinting with faux delight.
As the mirth cooled down, Justin indicated Eldrin with a nod. “This is my Ranger friend, Eldrin Thornwood. We go way back. A Ranger is a necessity for any adventuring party, wouldn’t you agree?” He tittered and continued before awaiting an answer. “And this is Kargan Durzag, a mage of great renown. He might look young, but oh my, you should see him in action!”
Justin gave Kargan a sly wink, and the Orc’s lips turned downward in distaste. He hoped Kargan knew he was playing the game, and if anything, he might even get a job after this from this positive recommendation.
“A pleasure to meet you all, I’m sure,” Harrington replied, taking in Justin’s companions, though his tone had grown stiff. “Well, Mr. Talemaker, it was a pleasure to catch up. Make yourselves at home. There’s food and drink aplenty, and there shall be dancing later. We also have some contests and games that might interest you—a chance to show off your skills, perhaps?”
“I thank you, Lord Harrington. You are a steadfast friend, though we’ve only just met.”
“Likewise, my good man! Well, I must go to greet my new guests. But before I leave, a bit of advice. Mayor Carlisle, in case you haven’t met him, is a cautious man, of the Diplomat class. But he’s also practical. I promise to introduce you and vouch for your need. I think there’s a good chance he’ll grant you the permission you seek.”
A wave of relief washed over Justin, and he placed a hand over his heart, though inwardly, he worried about someone of the Diplomat class. He wasn’t sure what to expect. “Thank you, Lord Harrington. That would mean a great deal.”
Harrington smiled, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “It’s the least I can do for a friend. In fact, there’s a small matter I could use some help with—a certain business venture I’m considering. We’ll speak of it later. Always good to have a friend who’s into adventuring!”
“I would be delighted,” Justin said, offering a respectful nod.
“Until later, Mr. Talemaker.”
With that, Lord Harrington moved off to greet another group of guests, leaving Justin’s anxiety easing slightly. They had a plan, and it felt like they might actually have a chance.
As they wove through the gathering, Justin couldn’t help but notice the curious glances they received from the other guests. Despite his smooth exterior, Justin felt a bit out of place. He observed other Socialites performing their skills, charming or delighting those around them with effortless grace. He even saw one guest deliver a scornful insult that had the surrounding crowd laughing heartily.
They grabbed hors d’oeuvres from passing servants—delicacies like smoked salmon canapés, stuffed mushrooms, and tiny tarts filled with rich custard—as well as glasses of champagne. They did their best to blend in, moving from group to group, making polite conversation, but really, they were just killing time until the mayor showed up. Justin got into a rhythm, spinning tales of their adventures, charming the ladies with exaggerated stories, and even indulging in a brief dance with a persistent guest.
At one point, a man commented on Justin’s attire, admiring his Cane of Valoria and his Coat of Highcliff’s Elegance. “I must say, Lord Talemaker, your fashion is unique. It reminds me of the portraits of my ancestors back home at Ravenwood Manor. Classic practicality and style—a rare combination!”
Justin smiled, twirling his cane. “I believe one should always be prepared for any occasion, my friend. Who knows when adventure lies around the corner?”
Finally, after what felt like an hour, Justin felt a light tug on his coat sleeve. He turned to see Lord Harrington standing there, a gleam of purpose in his eyes.
“Mayor Carlisle is here,” Harrington said. “Allow me to introduce you.”
They threaded their way to a group where the mayor, a portly man with a neatly trimmed beard, was engaged in conversation. Harrington approached him with the same calm confidence he had shown with Justin.
“Mayor Carlisle, a moment of your time,” Harrington said, placing a hand on the mayor’s shoulder.
The mayor turned, smiling when he saw Harrington. “Lord Harrington! To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Talemaker. He and his companions have run into a bit of trouble with Thalgar’s Tunnel, and they need your help.”
The mayor’s expression became more serious as he turned to Justin. “What sort of trouble?”
Justin inclined his head respectfully, fully aware of the delicate situation. He had to tread carefully—Mayor Carlisle was a man who owed him nothing and convincing him to grant access to the tunnel would require finesse.
“Mayor Carlisle, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Justin began smoothly, his tone respectful but confident. “This morning, my companions and I discovered that Thalgar’s Tunnel has been closed because of an incident. We were hoping to make use of the tunnel to reach the Everwood Gate, as we’ve received word of a dangerous Vault that has recently opened that threatens the trade of the region.”
The mayor’s expression remained serious, his gaze sharp as he listened. Justin continued, carefully choosing his words. “I understand that the closure is for good reason, but time is of the essence here. If left unchecked, this Vault could become a significant threat. My party and I are prepared to manage it before it becomes an issue, but we need access to the tunnel to get there quickly.”
Mayor Carlisle’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Justin could feel the weight of his scrutiny. The mayor was clearly assessing the situation, and Justin suspected that one or more of Carlisle’s Diplomat Class skills were at play, subtly probing for any signs of deceit or weakness.
Justin maintained steady eye contact, keeping his posture relaxed but purposeful. He couldn’t afford to show any hesitation. He had to convince Carlisle that this was a legitimate concern and that his group was the best option to deal with it. Never mind that there was no Vault, at least as far as Justin knew.
After a moment, the mayor spoke, his tone measured. “Mr. Talemaker, I appreciate your concern for the region’s safety. It’s wonderful—and quite rare—that an outsider has taken such a keen interest in Windfall’s safety. However, the closure of Thalgar’s Tunnel was not a decision made lightly. There are risks involved in reopening it, especially given the circumstances. What assurances can you provide that your expedition will not only succeed but also prevent any further danger?”
“Mayor Carlisle, I understand your concerns, and I respect the decision to prioritize the safety of Windfall and its citizens,” Justin replied, his voice steady. “But my team is well-equipped to handle this situation. Together, we’ve faced similar threats before and emerged successful.”
Mayor Carlisle considered Justin’s words deeply, his silence stretching on, making Justin increasingly uneasy. The quiet scrutiny was unnerving. It was easier to navigate conversations filled with words, where he could play on nuances and manipulate the flow.
But this silence—it was hard to work with silence.
Justin cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. “Our goal is to neutralize the Vault and ensure that whatever dangers lie within do not spill over into the surrounding areas. By granting us access to the tunnel, you’re not just opening a gate—you’re ensuring that this potential threat is dealt with swiftly and effectively. We’ll move quickly and discreetly, and we’ll report back with our findings.”
Carlisle’s gaze didn’t waver, his expression remaining inscrutable as if he were carefully weighing every word. The silence hung heavy in the air, and Justin could feel the pressure mounting.
Finally, Carlisle nodded slowly, breaking the tension. “Very well, Mr. Talemaker. I will arrange for the tunnel to be opened, but I would like to have a discussion with you first.”
“With me?” Justin asked, a note of unease creeping into his voice. “What for?”
For the first time, the Mayor betrayed a slight smile, which was quickly erased, leaving behind the same unreadable mask.
Something, at that very moment, told Justin to run as fast as the wind. An instinct, deep and primal, screamed at him to get out of there. This feeling was only reinforced when Eldrin tugged sharply on his sleeve.
“You know,” Justin said, his tone light but hurried, “I just remembered something. I thank you for your help, but we really must be going.”
He turned to leave, trusting the others to follow his lead without question. His heart pounded in his chest, and the sense of impending danger grew stronger with each passing second. But as they moved toward the exit, Justin’s worst fear materialized.
Standing at the entrance to the grand hall was the last person he wanted to see.
Baron Valdrik, dressed in an elegant black waistcoat, blocked their path. His tall, slender frame was accentuated by a tailored black velvet coat, and his pale, narrow face was framed by slicked-back hair that revealed a pronounced widow’s peak. A thin beard traced his sharp jawline, and his piercing gray eyes, like those of a predator, seemed to see right through them, while his long fingers, adorned with silver rings, drummed a slow rhythm on the dark wood of his polished staff.
“What?” Valdrik asked, his voice smooth and dripping with barely disguised malice. “Leaving so early? The fun has only just begun!”
Justin’s stomach churned. The man’s cold, calculating eyes were locked onto him, and the faint smile playing on his lips sent a shiver down Justin’s spine.
This was bad. Very bad.