The two bottles of ale were long and cylindrical, each half the size of a baseball bat. They were too large to fit into my pack, so I carried one in each hand as I headed toward Gorlis's house. I was nervous about being robbed, but no one in Raven’s Rest seemed to notice me. It was about noon when I rapped on his door.

“I have your ale, Gorlis! Two bottles of Lennadoc Ale, just like you asked.”

Quick footsteps sounded, and the front door flew open. Gorlis was as thin and as disheveled as before, dressed in a gray smock and filthy pants. But now there was a light in his eyes—and they started watering the moment he saw the two bottles.

“You stole Zell’s ale? By Motiacca’s cloak, that’s incredible! I heard there was a snake in her cellar.”

“You heard right. But I slit its throat, and then--”

Gorlis dashed at me with astonishing speed. Before I could react, he twisted my thumbs backward, then seized both bottles before they struck the ground. A split-second later, he ran back inside his house.

I massaged my thumbs as the door slammed in my face. I’d just been robbed by a master rogue. I considered my response. Should I make threats? Should I break into the shack and fight?

I sighed. The best thing to do was just walk away. The wizards at the Enclave needed components for their spells and potions, and there was no use wasting more time.

Before I left, however, the front door opened, and a transformed Gorlis stood before me. The madness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a steady, relaxed intelligence. He held a length of coiled rope in both hands.

“You’ve got yourself a trainer, lad. Today’s subject is rope—the rogue’s best friend. With rope, a rogue can ensnare enemies, set traps, and scale walls. Orla’s rope is barely fit for hanging necromancers, so I’ll give you this free of charge.”

I took Gorlis’s rope, but I wasn’t sure what he expected me to do with it. Gorlis unwound a second length of rope from around his waist and started tying a knot in its midsection.

“Before you throw a lasso,” Gorlis spoke with deadly seriousness, “you need to hold the loop with your palm down, and then swing in a circle. When you throw, be sure you’re pointing in the direction you want to catch. The loop will follow. Watch.”

Gorlis threw his lasso at several targets in front of his house, including tree branches, the slats on his roof, and a statue of Motiacca. In each case, the lasso caught perfectly. It was like watching a professional cowboy rope steer. Finally, he turned to me.

“Your turn. Let’s see how you do.”

I’d hoped that the game had some way to train me automatically, feeding lessons directly to my brain. Sadly, that appeared to be beyond the capabilities of a Striba suit. After tying an adequate knot, I threw my lasso at the same targets Gorlis had used. I felt ridiculous as I missed each one.

Gorlis took the rope from my hands and stepped in front of me, coming close enough that I could smell the ale on his breath.

“There are three types of rogues! Rogues of the first type don’t seek training, and die quickly. Rogues of the second type seek training but don’t take it seriously. They die quickly as well. Rogues of the third type seek training and burn the lessons into their souls. Only rogues of the third type have any chance of surviving. Precisely which type are you?”

I took a deep breath, avoiding his glare. “The third type.”

“Then act like it!”

Gorlis handed me the rope, and I spent the next two hours practicing lasso-throwing. I was clumsy at first, but over time, I could guess where and when the loop was going to close. Once I became aware of this, I focused on my throwing. I lassoed the statue of Motiacca five times in succession, and I went to throw a sixth time, but Gorlis interrupted.

“Eight years ago, the king’s soldiers came after me for stealing a necklace. Six of them chased me on horseback and forced me off the edge of a cliff. The bastards thought I was dead, but they didn’t see my rope. I’d lassoed the stump of a dogwood tree before I jumped, so they never saw me hanging off the edge! Ha!”

Gorlis tied another knot in his rope, but instead of throwing it, he set it on the ground.

“Snares are like lassos, but instead of throwing them, you let creatures catch themselves. This presents two problems: making sure your target don’t see the snare and making sure the snare doesn’t trigger until it has to.”

Gorlis explained the best places to set snares and the best ways to hide them. A badly-disguised snare would trigger prematurely and alert the target.

After concluding this lesson, Gorlis led me out of the house and tied the ends of his rope around the trunks of two trees. Then he leapt onto the rope and walked as naturally as though he was walking on pavement.

“Tightropes have saved my life countless times, and any rogue that doesn’t use them is a fool. With a tightrope, you can evade any monster that can’t fly. Need to get over a fiery pit or past a mob of slime monsters? Just secure your tightrope.”

Gorlis jumped onto the ground. “Give it a try.”

I stepped carefully on the rope, still holding onto the near tree.

“Hold out your arms and bend your knees,” Gorlis said. “Then face forward and take small steps.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I fell several times over the next few hours and I grew more frustrated with each fall. I wanted to complain, but I didn’t want to hear another lecture about the three types of rogues.

By the end of the afternoon, I could reliably walk from one end of the tightrope to the other, but I moved slowly and had to keep my arms out at my sides.

“Today’s lesson is over," Gorlis said, "but you’ll need to continue practicing. Walking tightropes is as close as we rogues get to flying.”

On my way back to the Groaning Gorgon, I checked my character sheet. My Stealth skill had risen to 2, my Acrobatics skill had risen to 3, and my Locks and Traps skill was now at 4. I was satisfied, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I was wasting my time. Was I ever really going to use a lasso?

⚔

The next day, I set out for Gorlis’s house as soon as the sun rose. Despite the early hour, he appeared wide awake, wearing the same dingy clothes he’d been in each time I’d seen him. He beckoned me inside and handed me a pair of beaten-up leather boots.

“A rogue’s boots must strike a balance. They need to hold fast to walls and the ground, yet never make a sound. Try these on.”

I put on the boots and walked in a circle like a child testing out a new pair of sneakers.

“The toes feel strange.”

“There are tiny iron hooks under the front of each boot. When you need silence, raise the toes. When you need grip, push the toes down. Now practice walking silently.”

I strode through Gorlis’s tiny house, avoiding the mess. Once I got the hang of raising and lowering the hooks, I could move without a sound. According to my character sheet, I was wearing +1 Boots of Stealth.

“Good,” Gorlis said. "Let’s say that a squad of the King’s Guard is chasing you down a corridor, but when you turn the corner, you see another squad coming. What do you do?”

“Fight the weaker squad?”

Gorlis closed his eyes. “No. You climb the walls and press yourself against the ceiling. Like this.”

Despite his hands and feet being bare, Gorlis leapt onto the wall and scrambled up like a spider. He pressed himself against the ceiling and smiled down at me.

“The guards will look left and right, but it’s a rare guard—and a much rarer monster—that looks up. When in doubt, climb. If you remember nothing else I tell you, remember that.”

“When in doubt, climb.”

Gorlis lowered his head, tucked in his arms, and executed a flawless backflip, landing right in front of me. “Now it’s your turn.”

Pressing down the toes, I drove the hooks of the boots into the wall and pulled myself upward. I did my best to climb farther, but I felt awkward and ridiculous.

“Keep your eyes peeled for cracks, nails, and other handholds. With practice, this will be second nature.”

I swallowed my unease and climbed up and down the wall. I fell on my back twice, but after nearly an hour, I could coordinate my fingertips with the hooks in my boots. I couldn't climb quickly, but I could stay on the wall without falling.

“That’s acceptable," Gorlis said, "but only barely. You need to practice much more, and work on climbing silently. There’s no use hiding when you move like a pregnant yak.”

After another hour of practice, I dropped from Gorlis’s roof and landed on my feet. I wasn't an expert yet, but it was only a matter of time. According to my character sheet, my Acrobatics skill had risen to 5 and my Stealth skill was now at 3. I wasn’t just becoming a rogue. I was becoming a ninja.

"Could you teach me how to do a backflip?" I asked. "Like the one you did?"

Gorlis shrugged. "Nothing to it. Just a matter of getting your knees, arms, and back to move together. Stand in a squatting position and I'll show you."

I spent the rest of the morning learning the backflip—squat, swing, leap, and tuck. To my surprise, I didn't break my back.

Gorlis looked mildly pleased. “Now it’s time for field work. The Enclave asked you to slay beasts, is that right?”

“Owlbear eyes and wolf fangs.”

“Excellent. The Northern Forest isn’t too far away. Grab a spade.”

⚔

In the early afternoon, I approached an owlbear as it enthusiastically devoured the remains of a deer. The beast weighed at least three times as much as I did and stood two heads taller. When I came within throwing range, I struck its beak with a rock the size of a golf ball.

"Hey ugly!" I called out.

The owlbear glared at me with giant, hate-filled eyes. SQUAWK! SQUAAAAWK!

I turned and sprinted away, out of the woods and toward a nearby hill. The ground trembled as the owlbear chased me, and even though my Acrobatics skill had risen to 7, it was faster than I was.

Reaching the hill’s crest, I saw Gorlis standing further down, nursing his second bottle of ale. He was enjoying the sunshine and didn’t seem concerned about the owlbear, which was so close behind me I could smell it. Before the monster could strike, I jumped onto a tree trunk and leapt into the air.

If I’d been able to long jump twenty feet in high school, I could have gone to any college in the country on a full scholarship. But now, given my Acrobatics skill, the jump didn’t seem impressive. I landed at Gorlis’s side and gasped for air.

“Took you long enough,” Gorlis said.

I looked back to see the owlbear run on top of our camouflaged trap. It gave out a loud SQUAAWK! as it fell into the pit, and then it became as silent as the two other owlbears we'd caught. +700 XP!

Gorlis and I walked to the edge of the pit, where the three beasts lay impaled on wooden spears. I unsheathed Ebonclaw and started cutting out the eyes of our latest victim.

"Mind if I ask you a couple questions?" I asked.

Gorlis looked at his bottle of ale, which only had a few gulps left. "Go ahead."

"Ever heard of Darnok or the Medallion of Darnok?"

"Nope."

"It's supposed to be valuable. Immensely valuable. Is there someone else I should ask? A senior rogue, maybe?"

Gorlis snorted. "I'm the oldest rogue I know by a decade, and I've never heard of it."

I sighed as I placed the owlbear eyes into my pack. I was no further along the main quest than I was when I'd started the game.

"Would you like to take up adventuring with me? I'm searching for this medallion, and I'd be grateful for the company. Between the two of us, we'd—"

"Not interested," Gorlis interrupted. "I spent years on the road and I didn't care for it. Besides, once Galliel's forces arrive, they'll destroy everything in their path. If you want my advice, flee to the north, up around Zhulla, and live off the land. You’ll stand a better chance against the trolls and yeti than you will against Galliel’s soldiers.”

“Is that what you’re going to do?”

Gorlis shook his head. “I’m going to stay in Raven’s Rest. When Galliel comes, I’ll kill as many of his soldiers as I can. Then maybe—just maybe—the ghost of my wife will stop haunting me.”

Before I could say anything, Gorlis threw aside the empty bottle of ale. "Training's over, lad. Best of luck."