Marcus stepped into the casino and instantly fell in love.

The entire first floor was covered in a beautiful carpet richly dyed in cool blues, purples, and greens. Trees dotted the expansive room—real, living trees. Their silver branches arced overhead, and shimmering glass ornaments dangled between their black leaves. Gleaming silver walkways and staircases stretched above them, and natural sunlight streamed in from the skylights above, refracting brilliantly through the tree ornaments and the colossal chandeliers.

A broad circular fountain occupied the very center. But instead of shooting up, water fell down—tinkling drops rained from above into the shallow pool.

The guard paid no mind to the breathtaking décor as he led the trio between white and black dressed servers. Marcus grinned as he caught sight of a man at one of the lavishly furnished tables raking in chips—from his position, Marcus could see that the player had successfully bluffed with a truly atrocious hand.

Swiping a ruby red drink off of a passing server’s tray, Marcus took a sip, ignoring Lilian’s judgmental glare. The cool beverage was sweet, fruity, and contained an ungodly amount of alcohol.

He gave the yellow fruit slice on the rim an experimental lick. It was intensely sour, making his lips curl. He could see it pairing well with the drink.

Upon reaching the fountain, the guard turned left, leading the group up a staircase and then through an archway to an outdoor deck. Each unfinished wooden table was capped with a red umbrella, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and Marcus caught a mouthwatering whiff of steamed seafood.

After briefly scanning the area, the guard led them straight to a table in the corner by the railing overlooking the water. A single balding, middle aged man reclined with a book and a drink. He looked up at their approach.

The guard stopped and waited for the man to speak. Gently closing his book, the man—Augustus, Marcus presumed—took a moment to study each of their faces before speaking. “Yes?”

“Miss Vinroze told me to bring these three to you,” the guard began. “New recruits.” He shifted awkwardly. “She didn’t uh, give much else instruction.”

Augustus sighed. “Yes, that’s to be expected.” He flicked his gaze between the trio once more. “Well?”

Marcus took the opportunity to step forward and introduce himself. “Marcus Vinecelli, professional henchman and part time lover, at your service.” After taking a sip of his drink, he flashed his best friendly smile. “I reckoned your organization could use a little additional help.”

Augustus beckoned for the trio to sit. The guard remained standing, clearly not quite sure what to do with himself.

“Always.” Augustus took a sip of his own creamy brown drink. “I suppose Miss Vinroze didn’t ask you much, or provide you with much information either?”

“No, I would say not,” Marcus replied.

Augustus drummed his fingers lightly on the table. “Right. Well then, it’s up to me to give you an overview, discuss the terms of your employment, and then we can get to the paperwork.”

Marcus fought hard to maintain his smile. If there was one enemy the hero dreaded more than any other, it was bureaucracy.

***

“You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

Lilian continued to sulk as Marcus cheerfully tossed the pair of dice. “Come on, think of it this way.” The dice landed on eleven, and Marcus gathered his chips to the cheer of the small crowd. “You get paid by the enemy—his money gets funneled back to your little commune—and all the while, you’re acquiring intelligence and opportunities for sabotage.”

“Okay, fine.” The warrior crossed her arms. “I still don’t like it though. And I can’t believe you’re blowing your signing bonus like this.”

Marcus shook the dice. Come on, just one more winning roll. “Hey! So far I’ve made a one hundred and fifty percent rate of return! And it’s not like Berret isn’t stuffing his face with seafood.”

“Yeah, and if you keep going you’re going to lose it all,” Lilian cautioned. “And I’m not going to bail you out when—”

The dice landed on seven and Marcus clapped his hands excitedly. More cheers erupted around the table, and Marcus bowed and waved. “So,” he said as he gathered more chips, “what were you saying?”

Lilian huffed and rolled her eyes. Before she could form a reply, Augustus approached from behind. “Hey.” Lilian nearly jumped, and the balding man slicked what hair he had left back. “I’ve got a job. It’s not much, just something to get you into the swing of things. I thought I might see if any of you wanted to get ahead.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Stuffing his chips in his overflowing trousers pockets, Marcus walked away from the craps table. “I’ll take it!” He paused. “What is it?”

Augustus beckoned him to follow. “All you need to do is accompany two others to pick up a package. You’ll drop it off at Mister Salieri’s private residence. That’s it. Should be pretty hard to screw up.”

Marcus grinned. Was that a challenge?

“Alright.” Augustus scanned the hero from head to toe. “Normally we’d put you in uniform, but this time you’re going undercover.” Ooh, a secret mission! “Let’s get you to the costumer.”

Marcus’s eyes lit up in pure joy. They had a costumer?!

After cashing in his chips, Marcus followed Augustus to the back rooms of the casino. A chubby woman with short black hair came out to greet them.

“Hey August, what’s up?”

The middle aged man gestured weakly at Marcus. “I need you to do something about… this.”

Marcus frowned. He had taken an intensive bath after the contract signing! Well, to be fair, his clothing wasn’t in ideal condition by this point…

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

Augustus nodded and turned to depart. The woman stepped forward and took Marcus’s hand. “I’m Chloe,” she said, “it’s nice to meet you, mister…?”

“Vinecelli. Marcus Vinecelli.”

She nodded, and Marcus grinned. “So, you’re the costumer?”

Chloe nodded. “Yep! That’s me.” She frowned and flicked a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Augustus didn’t really give me much to work with… but that’s okay! We’ll see what we can do.”

***

The coattails of Marcus’s blossom red suit jacket fluttered in the afternoon breeze. The same breeze ruffled the fur lined collar and cuffs, and Marcus steadied himself with the oversized cane he carried it one hand. He wasn’t used to walking in high platform shoes, and he had almost tripped over his own bell bottom pants.

As he strutted through the bustling mercantile district, the hero couldn’t help but see the city with rose colored eyes—his heart shaped, red tinted glasses made sure of that.

“So what do you think is in there?”

“None of your business, that’s what,” the man on his left grunted, averting his eyes in embarrassment. Marcus’s two companions clearly had no love for his excess of style.

The man in the middle carried a small, battered briefcase. The trio had picked it up from a run down pawn shop and were now headed back to the rich neighborhood—though their current route took them past shops and business stands.

Marcus sighed. What was the fun of being a henchman without getting in on the villainous schemes? So far, life outside of the casino had been rather dull and boring. When would something exciting happen?

A jagged glass spike erupted from his chest.

The two other men whipped around immediately. The one next to him grew spikes of his own—but they were smaller and made of metal, not glass—and the other man disappeared in a sudden cloud of smoke.

Marcus collapsed to the ground. In the corner of his eye, he saw two other people advancing—a woman wearing a wooden face mask and a figure completely wrapped in swirling white robes. The woman fired a blast of glass shards into the roiling cloud of smoke at the same time as the spiky man charged forward.

Marcus coughed up blood. He didn’t have much longer—it seemed he would soon die a death fitting for a henchman. Crawling forward amidst the chaos, he slowly dragged himself behind a now deserted fruit stand.

Peering from under the wooden cart, he watched as the spiky henchman made contact with the robed attacker. The metal covered man attempted to punch his opponent, but a swirl of fabric wrapped around his arm and twisted him off balance, causing him to drop the briefcase. If anything, the spikes probably provided extra grip.

The smoke cloud was growing, and the masked woman stifled a cough before retreating and firing off more shards. The once crowded street was now deserted of other people—as soon as the battle began, the denizens of the Riverways had made the wise decision to flee rather than to stay to watch.

As he bled out on the pavement, Marcus eyed the briefcase. The spiked man and the pile of robes were now attempting to extricate themselves from each other, and the other two were lost in the smoke.

Firing a thread, Marcus dragged the briefcase over to his position behind the cart. Unclasping it with shaking hands, he quickly inspected its contents.

A glistening, clear crystal disk half as wide as his palm sat in a packaging of fine silken cloth. The disk was perfectly cut and engraved with intricate grooves and lines, and a crossed circle was embossed upon the center. It sparkled colorfully in the sunlight.

A legendary mark.

Grinning weakly, Marcus clasped the mark to his blood soaked, torn chest. The crystal disk sunk into his flesh as he added it to his heart deck.

Instead of inspecting his new mark, he returned his attention to the fight. The smoke was now clearing, revealing one henchman’s shredded corpse—and the other henchman was currently restrained, the robed figure having clearly gained the upper hand.

The masked woman strode toward him and fired a thick glass spear into his skull, and his body collapsed as the robed figure released him.

The woman looked around. “Ah shit. Where the fuck did the case go?”

The robed man spoke in a thin, reedy voice. “I don’t know—wait, where’s the third guy? The gaudy one?”

They looked at each other before looking down at the blood trail leading up to the cart. After looking back at each other again, they strode forward in unison. “Alright, asshole,” the masked woman said, “playtime’s over.”

Marcus grinned. “Catch me if you can,” he wheezed, and the last breath left his lungs.

He respawned at the city entrance. He still had his stylish cane and suit jacket, and now a new mark as well. “Don’t mind me,” he told the shocked pedestrians. To them he had simply appeared out of thin air. “Just coming back from the other side, that’s all.”

As Marcus strode back towards the mercantile district, he inspected his new mark.

Ward of the Defier [Legendary]

Level 1

Grants immunity to the direct effects of any other mark.