Sir Argvald fumed as he was forced to sneak past the Crimson Stars base and patrols. His plan to eliminate the threat to the young ones in the pit had utterly failed. It was not the first time he wondered if his honour was worth it. Was it more honourable to eliminate an obvious madman, or to fulfil the letter of his assignment? Strength was to be cherished, and none of the people Ander had killed were particularly strong. Sir Argvald watched as a Crimson Stars adventuring group passed by him completely unaware. He didn’t mind the personal inconvenience of having to sneak past a friendly group of soldiers. What he did mind was having to keep Ander’s secrets. It was his duty to protect Ander, but would the problem be solved if he let it slip to Cormal where Ander was? He would never do that, his honour would not abide.

He was relieved to walk back in the front gates, and gladly accepted when a few hatchlings offered to take him in an open top palanquin. He told them where he wanted to go and relaxed the few minutes it took to get there. Of course he could have flash stepped, but he was sure there were going to be plenty of headaches where he was going. Of course, a few minutes were not long, not when you needed a full night's rest for once in your life, and they stopped in front of the appraiser’s office.

Sir Argvald clambered out of the palanquin, though he did have to give himself some credit. While he was feeling every one of his 120 years he still looked like he was in his early 40’s, and was as spry as a man half that age. He walked into the appraiser’s office, his back ramrod straight and his shoulder’s square. Inside was a long desk with a half a dozen men working as receptionists. They were accepting monster parts for the most part, along with the occasional artefact, and doling out contribution points on a case by case basis. Occasionally a heated argument would break out, but it was quickly quelled by a large bouncer that sat in the corner.

“Sir Argvald! Nancer will be out to see you in just a moment. He is finishing up with a client now.” The speaker was one of the receptionists, who had looked up from his current transaction.

“Very well, I am in no hurry.” Sir Argvald said, but it was not long until Nancer came out to see him. Nancer was a small man in every dimension. He was short and painfully thin and every feature he bore was narrow and sharp.

“Sir Argvald! If I knew you were here I would have left my work to another!” He said. His over the top enthusiasm was the only thing about him that wasn’t small. No, you had to include the man’s greed in that category as well.

“It was no problem, I simply have a few items that need to be appraised. I would not have you displace another customer on my account.”

“You are far too modest!” Nancer cried as he took Sir Argvald by the arm and steered him to the back. “What is the point of being in a position of power if you don’t use it every once and a while?”

“The power is there to serve those I have responsibility over, not for my own gain.” The words came with a sigh.

“I know I know. If I have told you once, I have told you a hundred times. You are far too uptight about that honour of yours. But, what can I say. You wouldn’t be you if you gave up.” Nancer opened a door and all but pushed Sir Argvald inside. He then took one of two seats sitting across from each other at a small table. “What do you have for me?” Sir Argvald started unloading items from his pouch, and Nancer sat back in his chair as the pile kept growing larger.

“Oh, wow, that is quite the haul.” Nancer said. “I didn’t think you were helping the factions haul in their loot.”

“I’m not. This came from a single individual.” Sir Argvald said, acid returning to his voice.

“A single… wait, are you talking about that head hatcher kid people have been talking about?” Nancer asked. Sir Argvald gave Nancer a confused look before his confusion turned to pained horror.

“Please tell me that isn’t what they are calling him.” Sir Argvald said. The name was utterly ridiculous. Head Hatcher? Please. There needed to be a good terrifying name otherwise people were going to think him a pushover and try their luck. Just one more thing for him to have to fix.

“It is one of the more popular names floating around, sure.” Nancer shrugged. “I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised that he was able to bring in so much.”

“You have no idea. He made himself a hideout and has filled it with furniture and books. The books are rare too. The one I got the chance to look through talked about a subset of material science focusing on naturally enchanted wood.” Sir Argvald stopped himself when he saw the greedy look growing in Nancer’s eyes. “I don’t have to say that everything I have said is to stay strictly between us, correct?”

“Of course of course!” The two fell silent while Nancer looked through the pile of items. “I can do 42,800 contribution points for this. That is quite the haul, though I imagine his account is looking pretty low at the moment.”

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“Yeah, you need to take a look at this.” It was then that he produced the magic item Ander had given to him. He handed it over to a giddy Nancer.

“Wow! A late creation style microscope! And in such good condition! It was almost like it was newly made.” Nancer gushed over the microscope, examining it at every angle. “I never thought I would see something like this again, not since I was banished to this dark pit.”

“So you know what it is then. I thought it was going to be another piece of vaguely magical scrap.”

“Know what it is! Sir Argvald, you wound me. I wouldn’t be the best trader in the Oritol Kingdom if I couldn’t identify this beauty.” Nancer finished his examination and set the microscope on the table next to the other items. “The big deal is that it is almost entirely without any signs of ageing. Which means that it came from one of the Creator’s old research bases where a regenerative field is still in effect.”

“Wait,” Sir Argvald said, looking concerned now. “None of this makes sense. He never had time. He never had enough time for any of it.”

“I was going to ask you about that. Not just anyone can escape Cormal much less kill over a hundred men in one go. Do you know how he did it? He must have gotten some crazy levels somewhere.”

“No, I don’t. When I met him for the first time after killing two of Cormal’s men, I felt his strength. It was high, right behind Cormal, and above everyone else in the room save me and the proctors. Thing was, he didn’t have a class then, and when I just met him, he did. He didn’t make a trip to the town’s relay node, his class hasn’t been registered. Which means he took on a dungeon, solo, and survived. At level 25. I have no clue how long he has been bottlenecked by the need for a class, but he could have immediately shot up to 35. That matches the kind of power I felt from him.”

“Wow, that is, quite interesting.” Nancer said, playing with the items on the table nervously. “You realise that there is only one explanation for someone gaining so much power so quickly. I just can’t believe that the High Lord would go through with something like that.”

“I didn’t want to believe it. But the more I see, the less I can ignore the possibility of blood magic. Do you think that is how the men in the caves were killed?”

“No,” Nancer said. “Blood magic requires large rituals to perform with the Creator’s ban, and he has no females to perform the chant. Those were just odd murders. Any idea how he got away with those bodies?”

“He has some kind of high quality spatial tool, though I didn’t see it. He had no rings or bags, and if it isn’t one of them, I don’t know what it could be.”

“Was he wearing an amulet?” Nancer asked. Sir Argvald stopped and thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“He wasn’t wearing one that I could see, unless it was masterfully disguised.” Sir Argvald shook his head. “How much for the microscope then?”

“150,000 contribution points. If it were a weapon or armour it would be more.” Nancer said.

“So what is his final point balance?”

“73,280 points, though technically I am not supposed to share that with you.”

“Hmm. I forgot. That is so many points though. And he had only been here a handful of days.” Sir Argvald stood up. “I have work to do. It was good to speak with you Nancer.”

“You as well. Be sure to keep me posted about the Head Hatcher.” Sir Argvald grimaced, but nodded and left the room.

Sir Argvald was troubled as he made his way toward the main administrative building of the pit. There were too many unanswered questions about Ander. He would love nothing more than to go back to his hideout and throttle the answers out of him. While he was still strong enough to pull that off. If it wasn’t blood magic that made him so powerful, he had to have some terrifying abilities. He at least had a regeneration ability. Regeneration! That was so rare, that it was believed that to get it you had to be blessed by the creator himself. But Sir Argvald wasn’t going to discount anything. He opened the door to the admin building and walked up the stairs to his office.

“Welcome back Overseer!” It was Jacks, his secretary. “Need anything from me?”

“Yes, Jacks. I need to make an edit to the rosters.”

“Yes Overseer.” And Jaacks immediately ran out of the room. Sir Argvald proceeded through the final doors into his office. It was a plain, utilitarian room. It had drawn more than one comment about how bare and bland the place was. In his position, furnishing the place would have been easy. But it would have required him to steal from High Lord Torden. He knew others, High Lord Torden included, didn't really consider it stealing to syphon a little of the wealth that came from the pit to make their own lives a bit easier, but Sir Argvald did. His life was one of honour. He had made that decision the day he had entered training as a new hatchling, and had kept it. If he had some way to commemorate that, maybe he would put that on his walls.

Jacks ran in and slammed a giant tome onto Sir Argvald’s desk. It was on the older side, and the book had flags and papers sticking out to a point about halfway through. It was at that point Jacks opened the book.

“I assume you are looking at one of the recent batches of newcomers?” Jacks asked.

“Yes, the most recent. I am looking for a hatchling named Ander.”

“Ander, Ander, here!” Jacks said, pointing at a line where the name Ander as well as a basic description resided.

“I need you to add a surname to that entry.” Sir Argvald said.

“Oooh, someone has earned a surname already? Wait, is this the Head Hatcher?” The question made Sir Argvald grind his teeth.

“Nightshade. That is his new surname and I will have you spread that around.” Sir Argvald replied.

“Oooh, you got a poison in there as well as the feel of an assassin. I absolutely love it.” Jacks gushed. The man was a suck up, but he really seemed to be overdoing it today.

“Just make the change, and then sign him up for the championship. Just give me the notice of acceptance and I will make sure it gets to him.”

“I should put your name down as reference?” Jacks asked.

“Of course, now leave me be. I have to write a letter to the High Lord.