We are the masks we wear. It may seem shallow, but it’s a simple truth: people tend to believe what they see.

So while Shin wanted nothing more than to rush as quickly as possible to the formerly destroyed Oaken Elf waystation and slake his unbearable curiosity, he could not. Because Galwenlas thought he already knew, thought he was some sort of next-level puppet master. Tactical geniuses do not run. They do not fidget with anticipation. And they certainly don’t desperately ask everyone within arms’ length if they know what happened. They leisurely stroll from triumph to triumph, so that the moment of their brilliance is unfurled might be savored for as long as possible.

It was probably for the best that the Schemer was only now realizing how annoying people assuming he was a mastermind could be. Because if he’d had any idea, back when he was a mongrel? He might have just gone along with the whole pee-on-the-outpost plan.

Fortunately, there was plenty to distract himself with. He could have simply made the trip himself with minimal fuss, but moving an entire fortress’s worth of kobolds and hobgoblins was another matter. Shin wasn’t alone in his eagerness to travel north, after all; between the kobolds who had been away from home longer than ever before in their lives, the hobgoblins who had traveled so far to find their home, and the soldiers who had popped with only the instilled memories of their home to comfort them? Everyone was eager to see Shinki Itten.

Still. A garrison needed to be left behind and a basic command structure needed to be left in place, as well as plans for their resupply and relief. Regardless of what changes becoming a Level Three Tribe might bring, this fortress would remain the first and most important bastion between Shinki Itten and the hostile world. Such a shield needed to be kept in peak condition, lest they suffer the same fate that had fallen upon its former masters.

So Shin forced himself to maintain a stately pace, carefully going over guard rosters and rigorously inspecting the storerooms while everyone else rushed around him. And through it all he gritted his teeth, knowing that his clenched mouth was the only thing that kept him from screaming Go faster, you assholes! Don’t you know something interesting is happening and I’m not there to see it?!

It was unbearable, but the kobold’s show had a highly invested and intensely important audience of one. Galwenlas had completely reverted to his state of outsized courtesy ever since his conversation with Shin, all beautiful manners and elegant dignity as he made a show of helping load carts and praising his hosts. But every so often he would catch Shin’s eye, and the two men would share small smiles, knowingly tapping the side of their noses in unison.

Ugh. It was all Shin could manage to not shudder. He wasn’t going to be able to do that nose-tap thing anymore after this. Damn Galwenlas, ruining a perfectly good gesture.

The game needed to be played, however. And so Shin would continue to play it. All of this was for the good of his people, and he’d have his fun in the end. Yes he would. It would be sweet and delicious, like a juicy plom. And as annoying as keeping up appearances for Galwenlas was, the fact that the Player would never see his end coming just made it all the sweeter.

“This looks good,” Shin told Hugot, passing the freshly appointed fortress commander back his guard roster. “The village will be certain to show their thanks to these soldiers for volunteering for the first watch.”

Hugot, a rather stout hobgoblin with a deeply impressive mustache, gave a short bow. “It is our honor, sir.”

Shin good-naturedly waved away the officer’s show of deference. “Oh now, no need for that. We fought shoulder to shoulder! And besides, I’m fairly certain you technically outrank me.” When the hobgoblin began to sputter out a denial, Shin clapped a hand to his shoulder with a chuckle. “Either way, come visit me when you’re on furlough! We’ll go fishing. You’ll love it.”

The officer’s mustache twitched in a wide smile. “I am certain I shall. And if I may be so bold?”

“You may, Hugot, you may.”

“Could you send my dear wife my fondest regards?”

“How could I possibly refuse?” Shin paused, thoughtfully tapping a finger against Hugot’s shoulder. “Though, it occurs to me that I’ve never met your wife.”

The hobgoblin shrugged. “Neither have I. It simply dawned on me late last night that I have a wife in the village.” He scratched thoughtfully at his magnificent facial hair. “She’s the cook at an inn? Or maybe she owns the inn? I don’t quite know.”

Shin tilted his head. “Do you know her name?”

“I do not.”

“Do you know what she looks like?”

Hugot shook his head ‘no’.

“Well, do you know if she’s a kobold or a hobgoblin?”

“Ah!” Hugot raised a finger at that. “I don’t, but I am confident she’s one or the other.”

“Hm.” Shin mulled over the available facts. “Well, what do you know?”

Hugot answered with the confidence that could only be born of absolute certainty. “I know that I have regards for her, and that they are the fondest.”

“My friend, you’re truly a poet. I’ll be sure to pass your sentiments along. Um, somehow.”

That seemed to be good enough for Hugot, who bent in another shallow bow and marched off to oversee the rest of his duties. Woof. Shin had thought it before, and he would certainly have cause to think it again, but the world was weird. Hugot did not exist a week ago, and now he had at least the vague approximation of a wife he’d never met who lived in a village he’d never been to. How absolutely wild.

What a shame, then, that Shin wasn’t able to properly appreciate this new display of Magica’s bizarreness. Not when he was still consumed by the mysteries of their jump to Level Three. Bluh, can’t these people uproot their lives any faster?!

Even roiling with impatience as he was, Shin sensed the familiar presence of Gero well before he heard the familiar tones of her rich chuckle. “You’re starting to turn red.”

Shin cocked an eyebrow, glancing towards the grinning woman as she leaned up against the doorframe. “No I’m not. You absolute fibber.”

“Sure you are. On the inside. It’s plain as day.” Gero languidly straightened, running a hand through her short crop of honey-colored hair. “The others may buy your whole ‘Oh, I’m in no hurry!’ act, but I see right through you.” She reached out, giving Shin a poke in the shoulder. “Not knowing what’s going on at the waystation is eating you up inside. I’ve seen you like this before.”

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Shin sniffed. “Name one time.”

Gero immediately began ticking examples off on her fingers. “That time you wanted to know what the highest spot in our zone was, that time you wanted to dig under trees to see what secrets they were keeping, that time you wanted to find out what wasps tasted like, that time–’

“Alright, well, I’m pretty sure I specified that you name just one time?” Shin tsked at Gero’s blatant disregard for the rules as stated. “Immediate disqualification, I’m afraid. You hate to see it. Another victory for Shin.”

“Uh-huh.” Gero poked the Schemer in the shoulder again. “Well if you’re going to be like that, I guess I’ll just head over to the waystation right now. You’ve got all these important boxes to move around and whatever, but I can just go find out what’s happening all by myself.”

She was diabolical. “Well hold on now! Don’t you need to oversee all the guards and the defenses? The martial defense of our territory is your duty too, isn’t it?”

“Not really.”

Not really? Okay, Shin had just been playing along with the teasing before, but now he was curious. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?”

“I mean ‘not really’.” Gero shrugged. “I’m not in charge of the fortress or city watch or any of that stuff. I’m a warrior, not a soldier.”

Huh. Now Gero had mentioned it, Shin realized that she was right. Besides him, the person most involved with the logistics of the fortress and the move back to Shinki Itten was Hilde. She was the one actually in charge of the Grand Alliance’s guards and internal security. “So you’re what, then? The figurehead of some sort of storied martial order? Dedicated to the single goal of perfecting the art of combat? A weapon to be wielded against only the direst of our foes?”

“Sure.” Gero shrugged amiably. “Let’s say ‘All of the Above’.”

“In other words, you don’t have an actual job.” Shin sighed, folding his arms. “Goddess, do I ever know what that’s like.”

Gero tilted her head, though the increased wag in her overly honest tail belied the sincerity of her coming question. “Really? Aren’t you, like, our king now or something?”

“I am not our king.” Shin was entirely certain Gero was joking, but he wasn’t about to risk some well-meaning kobolds overhearing the woman’s taunt and immediately busting in with a crown for him. “In fact, my first suggestion when we’re back home will be to form a governing council, which I will not have a vote on.”

“Oh?” Gero raised her eyebrows. “Will you moderate the Council’s meetings, though?”

“Well, I was going to offer–”

“And what if there’s a tie in a vote?” Gero theatrically pondered this theoretical dilemma. “Someone impartial should be available to break any stalemates. Someone even-handed, someone with clarity of vision.” She furrowed her brow thoughtfully, her tail whipping back and forth in utter glee as Shin began to sweat. “Who could that be, though?”

“Um, I mean, if it happened that there was, er, an even number of seats, maybe I could, that is, in that event I could always…” Shin trailed off as Gero broke into peals of laughter, the Schemer unable to resist a sheepish grin. “Yeah yeah. My civic mindedness is extremely hilarious.”

“It really is.” Gero sighed happily, draping an arm over Shin’s shoulder. “I’ve missed this. You’ve been so damned impressive over the last few weeks, I’d almost forgotten what an absolute dork you are.”

Guilty as charged, no question about it. Shin scoffed all the same, quirking an eyebrow at the woman. “If you’ve managed to nearly forget something like that, you only have yourself to blame. I feel like I never see you anymore, sometimes.”

Gero twitched, her teasing smile fading away. “I…you’ve been doing your Schemer stuff lately. I’ve been trying to stay out of the way.”

Shin raised his eyebrows. “What! Stay out of the way?”

“Yeah.” The woman frowned, averting her pale brown eyes. “I don’t know. I can’t help you with this stuff the way the others can. Sometimes I feel like I’m too many steps behind.”

“Gero, you listen to me.” The big kobold reluctantly turned her eyes back, and Shin firmly held her gaze. “You have never once been in the way. Nothing that we’ve accomplished could have been possible without you. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

The woman’s drooped ears began to perk back up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And if I ever come up with a plan that would somehow be ruined by the presence of an amazing woman who can beat anyone who disagrees with me to death? I would retire from my Class in disgrace.”

The sheer force of Gero’s wagging tail as it smashed into the back of Shin’s legs nearly sent him toppling to the ground. “You could probably find an opening in the Bard class. You’d be a great fit.”

Shin grinned, his intense curiosity and even the worries of his ongoing schemes temporarily forgotten. Every day since they had encountered the Oaken Elf army had been a breakneck marathon of plotting, fighting and planning. How long had it been since he’d been able to enjoy a back and forth like this with Gero? It wasn’t so long ago that Gero was very nearly the only person he ever talked to, and while there was very little Shin missed from those mongrel days he was beginning to realize that was absolutely one of them.

He blinked as he heard Gero cough, her neck lightly flushing as she spoke. “Hey. You’re staring.”

It was true, he was. And he wasn’t certain he wanted to stop? “Hey Gero?”

The woman swallowed, her blush intensifying. “Um, yes?”

“When we get back to Shinki Itten, and get things settled, do you want to…do something?

“Do something?” Gero’s ears twitched. “What’s that mean?”

Shin had no idea. “I don’t know, um…food? You’ll probably be hungry in a few days, right? I probably will be too, so…”

“We eat food all the time, though. How is that–” Gero cut off mid-sentence, her ears pressing themselves flat. “Wait. Do you mean like a d–”

“Daylight’s burning!” Hilde boisterously called from outside the room. “We’re all set and ready to go, unless you two have some more palaver to wade through?”

Gero slipped away from Shin so quickly that it seemed possible she’d never been near him at all, the woman stammering through a jumble of words that hinted at the outline of a cogent farewell as she all but sprinted out the door. Shit, wasn’t that just typical? You spend all day desperate to leave, but the moment you’d like to stay a little longer it’s nothing but hurry hurry hurry.

On top of that, Shin had another mystery gnawing away at him now. And while he was confident that he’d soon receive an answer as to what was going on in his home territory, he was less certain that an answer on why he felt ways about things and about specific people was forthcoming.

Whatever. It was time to put the Mask back on. Because in addition to everything else, masterminds certainly didn’t get flustered from talking to girls.