Lieutenant Sherman was behind him seconds after the threat had been made. It was as if he’d been waiting for it. Jeras jumped as he spoke, the higher attributes of the Martialist allowing the human to sneak up on him despite the armor he wore. He spoke in a tone of false respect at odds with the lieutenant Jeras was familiar with. “I must apologize for my subordinate, but he is correct. Aughal’s Council is concerned over the disaster of the Thormundz. If there was someone responsible for what happened there, they would be outside the norm, such as a rare class.” The lieutenant was polite in his explanation, having spent most of the day sitting down in the shade. He had patience to spare.

“I am familiar with the laws of this kingdom. You can’t stop me from going wherever I please if I’ve committed no crimes.” The Arcanist eyed Sherman like he was a pile of dung he was trying not to step in. “I have answered your questions to the best of my ability, but I draw the line at throwing a friend to the wolves. I will happily answer anything else, but not that.”

“Ah. That is unfortunate, for you see,” Sherman said, stepping entirely in front of Jeras and grinning slightly. “As my man implied earlier, Aughal is in a state of emergency. There have been two high profile assassinations in the last month, enough to warrant stricter measures. If you disagree with our ruling on the matter, you may feel free to raise the issue in Rikendia. Otherwise, you will not be allowed entrance into the city and will be found guilty of trespass should you attempt to enter anyway. I don’t mean to cause you trouble, but we all have to obey the law. Don’t we?”

Lograve tensed. “You would turn us away? I am carrying vital information for this city’s leadership!”

“And I am sure they are eager to hear it after you tell them what they want to know.” Sherman kept his voice controlled, but the Arcanist was shouting now.

“Unbelievable! We killed a dragon coming here. Terrifying, I thought, but little did I know the most monstrous thing I would encounter would be bureaucracy!”

“Lograve, don’t antagonize them.”

“You’re the one from here, aren’t you, Thomas? What is your full name?” The human immediately fell silent at this question. Jeras was a little impressed, he hadn’t noticed that Thomas was the only one who hadn’t given his last name. Well, besides the dusker who didn’t have one as was her people’s custom. In all honesty, he’d forgotten most of them since he wasn’t expected to record any. Sherman, seeing the Cleric fall silent under his questioning, glanced at someone on the wall and then continued in a covertly gleeful tone. “Unfortunately, due to destabilizing elements currently active in this region, I cannot just turn you away if you fail to answer these basic questions. I will either need your answers, or you will have to come with me.”

“But we have classes,” the avianoid protested. “I do not think you can make us.” From anyone else that might have been seen as a challenge or threat, but the lithe Totem Warrior seemed to be warning Sherman of something he hadn’t thought of. Incredibly, the only thing Jeras could think of was that the man was trying to be helpful.

“Of course, we wouldn’t want things to turn violent,” Sherman said in a careful tone. “But Aughal is prepared to take you by force if necessary. Not even a level 4 is above the law. We have cells capable of holding you.” A moment of tension passed between the Arcanist and Sherman, each staring the other down. As time grew on, Jeras was suddenly afraid Sherman would make good on his threat. The other guard could run for it if they sent an emergency signal for the Ironrush Ravager, but he was standing right there with them!

Fortunately, someone else interrupted the standoff. “Hey, assholes! Can you not get us all blown up today?” Another avianoid with a feather pattern faintly reminiscent of a hawk broke away from the guard who was questioning them and stormed over. Jeras didn’t recognize anything about her besides anger, or, perhaps, general distaste for the world on her face. Sherman, however-

“L, Lady Seliri?”

“Fuck no.” The newcomer glared keenly at Sherman. “Do I look like I have a cactus up my ass?”

“Wha-” Sherman blinked. “Who are you?”

“Fuck you,” the avianoid repeated. “You want to start something here? Cause I’ve got a wyvern in my pocket. Wanna see it? I’m pretty sure it could swallow you without having to chew.”

Jeras took a step back. Intensity was radiating from what could only be a Beastmaster, to the point that he considered it a power instead of just her personality. Whoever this was, she did have something over Sherman. She knew who the guard would have to call against someone as strong as the Arcanist, and why they wouldn’t unless forced to. Sherman’s posturing wasn’t entirely bluster, but in a real sense, it relied on intimidation to work. “You, are you related to House Seliri?”

“Fuck, yes, fine. Who cares? Look, let these guys through or I’ll have my wyvern eat you or something. You’re holding up the line.”

“You’re threatening a lieutenant of the Aughal city guard!”

“Yeah. You’re an annoying asshole, we get it.” Lieutenant Sherman had been keeping one of his wrists in his peripheral vision at all times. He raised it to his eyes in disbelief, a weakness this woman tore into. “Whoops. Guess I’m not lying, am I fucker? Wanna check again? Let me through, or I’ll punch your head into the ground and pour sand into the cracks.”

“I,” Sherman spluttered. “I can let you through, but these people-”

“Come on, just push him over or something if he stops you. These guys don’t have any teeth.” Sherman drew his sword when she, and the others with greater hesitation, walked forward. The insane, and possibly noble, avianoid walked right up to him. “Come on. Do it.”

“Let them through. But I will be informing House Seliri of this, and you better pray you are who you say you are.” Sherman growled, his human voice able to more accurately mimic the sound as he dropped any pretense of civility. “Don’t think this is over.”

For some reason, the woman raised one of her fingers at Sherman and said, “Thank you for your fucking service.”

“JERAS!” Sherman shouted as the group walked through the gate behind them. “I want you to follow them. We can’t stop her, or anyone she vouches for, but they can’t stop you from following. If they kill you, that’s reason enough to take them in.”

“S-sir?” If they kill me? “What should I do at nightfall?”

“You have your orders. Send word when they settle for the night and a replacement will be sent to monitor them. Go!” Jeras caught up to hear most of what the others were saying.

“-you Tlara. But, why intervene?” Lograve asked.

“Gadriel. Leave it to him to keep fucking up my life, but he promised me something, and that gets harder if he can’t get into the city.”

The Arcanist looked blankly at her. “Tlara, Gadriel entered the city ahead of us.”

Tlara did a head count. “Fuuuck! Are you kidding me? Hey wait. You, asshole, what are you doing?”

Jeras had made no attempt to hide his movements. He didn’t have anything in the way of stealth proficiency, but did have a giant sword and armor which stood out. “Lieutenant Sherman ordered that I follow you,” Jeras answered evenly, with a hint of respect even though he had no idea what was going on. The adrenaline of the moment was blotting out his earlier exhaustion, something he hoped carried on longer than it took for these people to rest. “If you’re looking for the camp, there’s yellow signage-”

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“Fuck off.” The woman gave him the curious hand sign again, the middle talon on her hand extended. The meaning of that Jeras could guess from context even if he didn’t know exactly what it was. “Wait, fuck you guys. I’ve got my own business. See ya.”

Jeras watched as she immediately split off at the next intersection, passing down a narrower road between the low buildings at the city’s exterior. Compared to the thoroughfare that led to the base of the Spires, that one could easily dead end in a block or two. She was just trying to get away from him, and Jeras let her go.

“Jeras, right? She’s a Seliri?” The Cleric almost got up under his armpit as he sidled next to him. “Really?”

“I just met her. You didn’t know?”

“No! You’re kidding me, all this time,” he shook his head, giddy with the news in contrast to what had just happened. “But you can’t blame us, can you? Is Silver Eye still heading up that faction?”

“When did you last leave Aughal?” Jeras asked instead of answering, taken aback. The Cleric in front of him was mid-20s at best, meaning he had to have been young if he’d left during the initial settlement wave. Not that he minded the questioning. Considering how chatty the Cleric was, if he could somehow get him to slip up and reveal the identity of the Artificer he could take that information to Sherman and get the rest of the day off. Or, more likely, get put back on the wall.

“Oh, eight years or so. The name’s Thomas, by the way. Think I might have already said. Threst was doing that thing with resonite tariffs that was getting Smiths up in arms. I think Ytaya of, well, her house took over then for the bugs too. Which one of them got their throats cut?”

“Rodreick and Ytaya, within a couple of weeks of each other. Ytaya was last week.” That was common knowledge and Jeras didn’t feel the need to hold back. If he had known exactly how either had died or the details of the investigation, that would have been a different matter. Fortunately, both deaths had occurred in the spire guard’s jurisdiction and weren’t his problem. In this case, there was an eagerness to this Thomas that seemed to pull the answers from him.

“Damn! And you guys think it’s the Mirage? I thought they were just a fringe thing.”

Jeras shrugged. “They’ve been getting bolder, but I don’t know and couldn’t tell you if I did.”

“Ah, makes sense. Active investigations and everything. Say, is the bakery two blocks from the main guardhouse still doing that thing with flour from Kallical? I know everyone says Threst stuff is better because of the Shattered Falls, but they’ve got special stuff too. I never knew I wanted bread with a nutty flavor until I ate there. Makes you wish there was a farmer class, just think of the kinds of things that could do.”

“Uh,” Jeras scratched his head as he tried to remember what Thomas had originally asked. “I think so.”

“Great! I’ll have to see if I can get there before they close. You won’t believe what we’ve been eating the past few days, and not in a good way. Tag along if you want.”

“Thank you, but I have to follow-” Jeras looked up from the Cleric and came to a heart-stopping realization. He’d been talking to the man for four, maybe five blocks now! In that time, the others had split off without him noticing. “Where did they go?”

“Sorry, can’t help you there. You might catch up with them if you stick with me though. I’ll buy you something and, hey, I’ve got a ton of things I’ve been itching to talk about. Did you know one of the Heroes in the Thormundz went Tyrant? We put him down.” He stomped his foot on the ground for some reason. “But it was a close thing. Well, bread?”

Jeras thought back to the last time he ate, the morning meal, and then asked himself how likely it was he’d find the others on his own. More than likely given they were traveling with a glowing ringcat. On the other hand, this Cleric was talkative. “Could you tell me what the Arcanist couldn’t at the gate?”

“Ah, sorry, but that’s one of the things I can’t. Guy’s my friend and I, uh.” Thomas shook his head. “Anyway, bakery. You in?”

Ha, already got the first name. Sherman wouldn’t mind if I could get him to slip again, Jeras thought. “Fine. But if you don’t lead me to them at some point today, I will have to take you in for interfering in an active investigation.” If Sherman was here his stone would show the lie. Not that Jeras wouldn’t arrest Thomas for distracting him, but he’d have to get creative with the reason. Kelra could probably help with that.

“No worries! Want to hear about the Upswell? I was actually in the middle of healing this woman who’d gotten too close to a-” Amid his retelling, Thomas continued what in settled society was considered a faux pas by sending a thought towards Lograve. Alright, he’s hooked. I’ll probably have to meet up before nightfall, but you’ve got a few hours.

Thanks, Thomas. I don’t think we could have counted on Tlara again.

No worries! Just tell Guy he owes me one.

Nearby, the group stepped off the main road for a moment to allow their last member to exit from where he’d been hiding. “What happened?” Daniel wheezed, stepping out from inside Khare. The gestalt had an interior space that functioned like a bag of holding, including that it didn’t allow free air flow when it was closed. “I almost ran out of air. Not that I’m not grateful, Khare, but you need air vents. Wait where’s Thomas?”

“Problems at the gate,” Lograve answered, waving his arms wildly.

“Is that supposed to be a spell?”

“No,” Lograve answered, continuing to wave his arms for ten more seconds before letting them fall. “It’s just supposed to look like one.”

…

“What do you mean you lost them?” A shrill, demanding voice asked.

Silora, resting on her throne, winced. “That Arcanist cast something. Someone of his level probably knows about me.”

“You’re level 5!” Claret brought a hand down hard onto her armrest, one of her many rings putting a dent in the wood. Whether it was just the nature of her Legacy or her preference, most of the magic items Claret had were worn around her fingers. “Find them.”

The Fate tried but frowned after a few seconds. “This close, it shouldn’t be a problem. Something’s blocking me. I’m trying the area where they were last, but there’s nothing. I still see the street, but I can’t find them.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know!” Silora cried defensively. The presence of the remaining Council members, and the heavy guard in her parlor, was making her very nervous. “This never happens! Not unless you’re having me scry on the outlying regions and I hit a location that’s warded, but that’s a gap in my sight instead of people vanishing from it.”

“We shouldn’t have pressed at the gate,” Bennar commented, though there was a note of disinterest in his voice. It was more like he was commenting on the results of a game to his friends than reacting to matters of state. “They wouldn’t think to protect themselves if we hadn’t tipped our hand.”

“We wouldn’t know to follow them if we hadn’t,” Aucrest retorted. He had his reasons for being invested in this, though he feared they didn’t align with Claret’s. The results of the inquiry into her dealings with Rikendia were projected to be quite costly, which would make her no doubt even more desperate. Worse, they were now known losses. “As it stands, we know enough to keep track of them.”

“This is quite a lot of trouble to go through for what sounds like one Artificer. And your daughter,” Claret laughed as if the foundations of her family’s power weren’t crumbling. “It seems the chick that flew the coop had come home to roost, Aucrest. And, taken a class.”

“I bet you're ecstatic,” Bennar mumbled around a scone.

“That does make things easier, though I will need to reign in her behavior.” Aucrest sighed. “I doubt she would tell me what we want to know and I’m not inclined to try asking, either.”

Claret pointed an accusatory finger, and considering what was on it the gesture also served as a threat. “Like you’d pass on the information! You’re not monopolizing this Artificer, Silver Eye.”

Because you want to? “Claret, I’m hoping to recruit him for the city, perhaps as an apprentice for Arpan.” He saw the disbelief in her eyes but continued, wondering if his reasoning would make any difference. “If the Mirage targets him next we will have truly suffered a loss, if only for the formulae he knows. Redundancy, and the hope we could negotiate more wisely with this one, are our aims.”

“Do you want me to go back to the gate?” Silora asked carefully, more to remind them of her presence before one of them said something they shouldn’t have in front of her. Not that Silora minded, it was them knowing she would hear that was the problem.

Aucrest exhaled and stood, leaving the wide wine glass meant for his kind on the table. “No. I’m leaving in case Tlara is inclined to cause more trouble tonight.”

“And to tell your wife,” Claret jabbed.

Aucrest glared back. “You would do well to prepare for the results of the supply contract investigation, Claret. Feel free to call upon my house for aid if the penalties are too onerous.”

The older woman’s nails dug into the furniture and Silora winced to see further carnage playing out. But, these were her direct employers who’d trapped her in a cage of fine print. Soon. He was somewhere down there, she knew, and he’d escaped their notice. All she needed now was the right opportunity. She returned covertly to view the key to her cage, who by this point had made it to his destination and was munching on a bagel with a bemused guardsman.