Corvayne had to ask himself what he wanted. That in some ways was the core of his journey. He wanted to be free of curses and he suspected that whatever else he wanted he needed to deal with the Magus at some point. That didn't get the core of what he wanted.

Did he want to be the best with a spear? To protect and heal his friends? To crush his enemies?

For sure, he wanted love. While Spears was enthusiastic about it, and Bell put up with it... he liked having lots of women who wanted him. He could have said no. But it felt like... he was making up for lost time.

That was also what he wanted. A memory. A hint to all the strange things he was missing. When he stepped out of the portal onto Cascadia, his life in some way had begun, as everything before was missing or changed. He wanted it back.

Even then, he had memories of training with everyone on just about every weapon, hadn't he? And engineering, and driving just about everything he could get his hands on... he could have dropped those lessons, but even in his twisted memories of his village and the time he spent with the Watchers masters of weapons there was a sort of madness in him that made him stick with it. And that had lead him to Armsmaster. He had sensed a hole in Lady Blood Claw through [[Unity]], but what of him?

He felt it. The edge of something in him that was empty and needed to be filled. A desire to have everything.

Something in him clicked.

[Pretty-Solidly Uncommon Class - Armsmaster has evolved to the Tier 4 Ultra-Rare-Not-Quite-There But-Near-Unique Class: Grasping Arms Master: From being able to cross weapon skills to using summoning magic to blasting foes with the unbound system powers of an alienist and also having support for divine healing powers and crafting, there's a certain madness in trying to do everything that you've embraced. Yet there's a basis for all that, a foundation that few can claim as well as you.]

[Acquired Cross Ability: You can apply your Class skills across disciplines to a limited degree. Tiering up will improve this.]

[Class Skills: Cross Train (Similar Skills get bonuses to learning), Strength of Arms (Improves all actions based on your highest skill - Spear Skill), Cross Execute (Can use known weapon skills, divine powers, crafting abilities, and powers to some degree with another category), Arsenal (Can use Cross Execute on 'impossible' categories)]

Corvayne opened his eyes to the wood beams that made the ceiling of his jail cell. He could feel the gentle tug of the inhibitor trying to fight against whatever crazy alchemy he was undergoing, his essence pacts telling him that he was shuffling himself into a weird arrangement. [[Understanding]] in particular was telling him that once more he was going to punch further above his weight class, and his own history told him he'd be needing it soon. Especially since looking past his feet he could see on the other side of the bars the acting sect leader Rio, sitting on a folding chair with her chin on her fist. A half eaten breakfast burrito and two coffee cups suggested she had been waiting a while.

Corvayne was pretty sure under the gold embroidered robes he could see a bit of pink pajama pants tucked into her black spurred boots.

"Um... good morning?"

Her pure black eyes with red rings narrowed. She motioned for the guards to leave, then thought against it and said. "Hold."

The women looked confused but returned to their posts. Corvayne saw they were wearing robes, which usually they didn't. Was the daisy duke thing only when he was awake? It was a little cold.

"I am very curious... what exactly happened that you left the main grounds of the sect... let alone that you were not here or at the stables. Explain."

"Of course Acting Sect Leader Lady Rio-Blackfist-Cumberlin."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance but Corvayne felt something like an extreme spike in joy and a sort of surprise from her. What the hell? Was [[Unity]] failing?

"The other initiates were going drinking and I was invited. I declined as I expected that to go would require a security detail to ensure I was a proper prisoner. Big-Red-Bramble felt that he would be sufficient to prevent me from escaping or getting into trouble, and I followed his order to have fun for a night, at least as much as could be had without access to my scattered friends and family."

"What exactly happened?"

He felt something through [[Unity]], something like it's link snake out from her to him. A truth detection skill perhaps? He dulled his channel of information so if she had some sort of emotion detection she wouldn't figure out he was reading her. It felt a little like sparring, which would be fun if he wasn't pretty sure if she found out what he was doing she'd crush him like a bug.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"There were a trio of other shovel initiates that were not happy with attention I got from Bombsh- Miss Hill, whom is also as far as I know one of the stable staff. They let their ire be known by throwing me out of a bathroom window. Given the state I was in, it took me a while to get back to the bar and I admit I was hesitant to go right back. When I arrived I saw three fellows whom seemed to be bullying my allies. While I am a prisoner, I understand you also are considering us as initiates as well..."

He didn't need his link to see a slight nod and that Rio was pleased that he understood that.

"So I decided that given my talent for taking abuse, I might as well try to get the three out of the bar by taunting them."

He was going to have to lie by omission in a moment, but he kept his poker face on.

"Needless to say, that did not go well for me." As he was currently in trouble because he turned the three monsters into a smoking crater. "The only reason I'm still here is that they were toying with me." He wasn't sure it was true but he suspected it. "I heard a blast, and saw that where they had been standing had turned to a crater, so I told Miss Bayou what I thought could have happened."

At this point Corvayne felt the cold link she sent tighten and start to send something, and instincts pushed him to try something.

He used [Cross-Skill: Flows-Like-Water] with [[Unity]], somehow smoothing himself out in a way that made the little jolt of omissions taper off from the link she had sent to him.

"So you didn't see the monster you reported to Bayou?" She said, and he met her eyes and saw that she looked... a little bored? Maybe disappointed.

"It fits what we have on the floor, but I also admit that while I suggested those three would be heroes if they destroyed said monster, my assessment of their personality and demeanor towards the initiates suggest at best the motive for their demise was not a sense of duty nor desire to protect innocents."

Once again he used [Flows-Like-Water] with [[Unity]] and Rio raise an eyebrow but nodded as the bullshit detecting link went still.

She looked at the guards again. "I'm taking the prisoner for a walk."

With that she stood, grabbing both coffees and her breakfast as well. The guards opened the door and he walked out to follow Rio outside. He watched her and noticed she was holding both coffee cups and the breakfast burrito each in a hand, but she only had two hands every time he looked. Fair enough, everyone had their own reality bending powers he guessed at high levels. They walked a direction towards where Corvayne had seen parked trucks, not quite as big as Brambles. The morning mist meandered around scrub grass and numerous rustic structures. He could see the central mountain of the sect catching light around a swirl of clouds.

Rio was quiet. Corvayne assumed she was taking time out of her day for a reason, as given the size of the sect she was busy.

“So... I don't know how you took out the cameras, or if it was you or an agent or your boss or whatever, but if it wasn't related to you I'm an armadillo's uncle.”

She hissed a little as she spoke, which made Corvayne almost laugh at the last bit.

“On the flip side, I know exactly why those three were here, and it certainly wasn't about saving anyone. So I'm stuck sticking to your obvious lie. Thankfully, you cheated, and cheated for us.”

Corvayne felt the pause.

“But... I need to be pissed about it. So you've got some hard work ahead of you. Real punishment duty. You and most of the shit slingers who were there.”

[[Unity]] was telling him there was more. Why not? He was tempted to use [Juxtapose] with it, but he figured it might swap bodies or something. He needed a practice partner. How could he get Rio to let him reach one of his allies?

“... My question is, why not kill those three yourself if you knew what they were planning to do to your sect members.”

Anger, a little at him, a little at herself, and some at the world.

“ Look, I know you sure as shit ain't really level 30, so you can't be that stupid. There's an order to the world. You get too big, someone bigger takes you down. We give the Red Liners a few promising students, and whatever else they want, and they keep us from getting smashed by the Three Kings.”

As she spoke she looked to the mountain, and Corvayne followed her gaze. Sadness, longing, duty, hope, and a stirring of puppy love. He'd bet a thousand black crystal shards that's where the sect leader was.

“You're carrying weight.” Corvayne said, turning away so she didn't see he had been watching her. He was starting to see how people got into the Cowboy spirit. He focused on something on the horizon. Weird complicated emotions pressed into the link. What was certain... was she wanted something.

Another flare of negative emotions, buffeted by calm.

“I can smell your planning something, Corvayne. The system put a warning label on you. A rattle on a snake. But... I don't drag people into this sect to just let them rot. The Red Line sect are looking for someone like you.”

“Like me, or me?” This was not what he wanted to hear.

“They are looking for someone like you. Under leveled but over skilled. People the System put odd flags on. I doubt for any good reason.”

“Yet I'm here.”

“Fistful of Dao seeks to ride into the sunset of heaven forever, to become immortals. To better become perfectly free. Yet we sit on floor 40, stuck to the past.”

Corvayne tried not to let [[Unity]] simply tell her what she wanted to hear. It didn't seem right. He had to grow.

“You're stuck waiting on the Sect Leader, and everyone else is stuck too. You can't kick yourself over it. You're not him. Or her.”

“Him.” She said with a point, looking daggers at him. Projecting danger, unpredictability.

“Okay. And you have a problem. Well, you have lots of problems, and I don't think you want me to try to deal with the Red Line sect as I'm miles under your level.”

Rio looked at him. Something she did let her stand taller so she was looking down. “I know you have a talent for finding things. Your friends keep their mouths shut, but your enemies spoke volumes of it. So... I want you to find out what's killing my sect. Literally, figuratively. Yes, I suspect the Red Line are involved, but I need proof, or to uncover whom is doing it.”

“You don't think I'm an agent?”

“Not of either them or the kings. You met with the kings, but I do not think they control you. Not the way they operate.”

[[Unity]] and [[Understanding]] was trying to tell him he could accept, have her set up terms to come and go freely, then used that to orchestrate his escape. The easy way out. However... he wanted more. Grasp at more. He had a slight urge to grab her ass, that he shut down. Too many girls with daisy dukes. Stay in the moment. Don't get your neck ripped out.

“So why do you trust me to do it? We're still enemies. I want something different then what you want. Give me something more.”

“I have lead this sect for hundreds of years. I have cultivated the image of a distant and kind leader to some, a ruthless task master for others, and a cold calculated killer to those who threaten my Sect. I could bribe you, I could crush you, I could lie to you, I could hold your friends hostage.”

She started walking on a path towards a pond with ducks that moved over to greet her. Corvayne waited as she flicked a bit of uneaten tortilla at one. A rooster somewhere announced it was morning, and was answered by some monster likely a hundred times its size.

“You look like him.” She pointed at the mountain. “You are the spitting image of our Sect Master, Dusky-Creekwood-Tables, and like you he carries a jet black crystal weapon.”