As the morning sun rose over the city, Dellromoz and Erasmus lay on the roof of a townhouse in Stanhope’s most upscale residential neighborhood, with Erasmus taking periodic glances over the tiled peak of the roof. Two houses down, and across the street, was the townhouse of His Lordship Isnard Trevallion, Count of Kinsborough, and the highest ranking member of the peerage in Stanhope.

“I’ll admit this is an unlikely place for the Watch to find us, but you seem to have other reasons for bringing us up here.” Dell remarked.

“It is nice to have someone so observant to watch my back.” Erasmus replied, before chortling at his own joke. He continued as Dellromoz rolled his eyes, “We’re going to need at least one really good horse if we want to leave the city and not be dragged back in chains. I think it’s unlikely that we’ll be allowed to just purchase one, given the circumstances. Since Count Trevallion is the one responsible for said circumstances, I think it only right that he be the one to supply us with mounts. Besides, he’s already accused me of stealing from him, it would be a shame to make a liar of the man by letting him keep all his things.”

“What happened with him, exactly?”

“I’ve been an adventurer for a few years now, and I’ve acquired a reputation as being a deft hand with a sword. The Count fancies himself a swordsman as well, and I’m told he has spent a considerable sum on instructors and amassing a fine collection of blades.

“He saw me walking down the street, talking up my deeds to a prospective employer, and someone must have told him who I was.” said Erasmus.

“So, you were bragging to someone?" asked Dell, a knowing smile on his face.

“Nobody hires a timid mercenary,” replied Erasmus, “besides, if I’m not willing to tell tales of my my adventures, no one else is going to!” He straightened his hat, which had come loose as he told his story. He became more animated the more excited he was, swaying back and forth, and gesturing with his arms.

“Now, since I don’t own much more than the clothes on my back, and I’ve never had a private instructor, how dare I presume to think myself a swordsman? Later that day, I found myself in possession of a rude letter demanding that I meet him on the field of honor.”

“I didn’t think commoners and nobility could duel one another?” Dellromoz frowned.

“That’s a common misconception. Commoners generally cannot challenge nobles to a duel, but nobles can challenge commoners. They seldom have any reason to, and most commoners would decline anyway, unless they have some substantial training with a weapon. Technically, that makes you a coward by most dueling codes, but from a practical standpoint you don’t really cultivate a reputation for bravery or honor by challenging people to duels when they’ve never held a weapon before.” Erasmus explained.

“But you accepted, because you’re an adventurer.”

“Yes, and no.” Erasmus answered. "I don't have anyone that he can use to hurt me, not that he knows of. I don't have little ones at home who will go hungry if the Count is upset with me; I'm a widower, and I outlived my only child. Some people have responsibilities to their families that demand certain sacrifices, but I don't.

"I had the skills necessary to stand against him, which set me apart from a lot of the people he likes to push around. People who live by the sweat of their brows don't generally have the time to practice swordsmanship, or the money to afford a decent one. The best common folk usually get is some basic spear training while drilling with a local militia, and spears aren't 'gentlemanly', so they aren't allowed in duels.

Lastly, there was the issue of my own satisfaction, and how much I'd enjoy humiliating him."

“So you accepted his challenge, then.”

“Eventually. I don’t stay in one place for very long; I wasn’t sure I could find a second and a doctor to bring.”

“You don’t need those though, right?” Dell wasn’t familiar with dueling code.

“They’re required; this is a duel, not a tavern brawl. I asked around, and a tavernkeeper I’d recently met offered to serve as a second, and he knew a barber we could bring as a physician. Three is the traditional number of seconds to bring, but I thought I was lucky to find two people to stand by my side against Trevallion. Of course, His Lordship showed up with six, only the most influential people in County Kinsborough; the sheriff, the Mayor of Stanhope, a few local nobles. ”

“How’d it go?” Dellromoz asked, though he already had some idea.

“He couldn’t touch me. We circled around each other for a few minutes, and I gave him a few small cuts on his arms. Nothing really dangerous, I just wanted him to realize he was outmatched and call the whole stupid thing off. It was his challenge, after all.”

“He wouldn’t stop?” Dell was surprised. He wasn’t much of a fighter, but he’d treated enough injuries from bladed weapons to know that they changed people’s perspective on a conflict rather quickly.

“Maybe he thought he’d wear the old man out. Eventually he did wear on my patience, and I slapped him upside the head with the flat of my blade. I thought I could knock some sense into him.”

“It didn’t work though.”

“Correct. That was when realized he was couldn’t beat me, but it turns out he had a contingency plan. He pointed at me, looked at the sheriff, and shouted that he’d just been attacked by a bandit.”

“No...,” Dellromoz said, “no! He can’t do that!”

“He did.”

“Wait, but there are witnesses! Even if the ones he brought lie, you brought your own!”

“No, I brought two more of his. They turned on me faster than Trevallion’s own witnesses did. Turns out he’d hired them to ‘volunteer’, so I couldn’t back out on account of not having the required people on my side.”

“How did you find that out?“

“I asked around after the fact. Our brave little lord has been the victim of several ‘bandit attacks’ that happened at dawn around popular places for gentlemen to settle disputes.”

“How did you get away?

“A little bit of dirty fighting, a little bit of property damage, and an abundance of horse theft. I seem to be doing that last one a lot, lately.” He sounded slightly troubled by the development. “Anyway, I cut a few sets of reins and some saddle straps and then took off, and I’ve been in hiding since.”

“I heard a few of the watch talking about your duel, they seemed aware of the fact that Count Trevallion was lying about what happened.”

“Yes, well, people won’t keep secrets for someone they don’t respect. It’s probably somebody in his own party. He’s not well liked, I think he’s out here rather than in the capital because no one of his own rank can stand him. It doesn't do me any good though, if they were going to break ranks they would have already done so. A few crowns for their silence is nothing to Trevallion.”

“What if you write him an insulting letter? Could you get him to challenge you again and clear your name somehow?”

“No, now that I’m not some elderly vagrant waiting to be put in my place, he’ll insist that dueling me is below his honor as a member of the peerage, and that the watch or the sheriff are the proper ones to handle common bandits.” the swordsman sneered.

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

“Are you sure we need the horses? Couldn’t we just sneak over the wall after dark and vanish into the forest?” Dellromoz asked.

“A man I could well have killed in a lawful duel, a man who I had done nothing to, and who I spared even though he was consistently rude, has thanked me for my consideration by accusing me of banditry.

"I could wait until nightfall and slink away with my tail between my legs, and I’d probably get away safely. But why? To save my own life? It's much too late for that. I know what it's like to lie on my deathbed and not be satisfied with what I see looking back over my life, and I'm not going to do it twice.

"No, I’m going to leave on my terms; in broad daylight, on one of Trevallion’s horses.” Erasmus asserted.

“Wouldn’t that just prove that you are a bandit?” Dell asked.

“That’s the best part. Do you remember how I told you that generally commoners can’t challenge nobles to a duel?” Erasmus asked. Dellromoz nodded in the affirmative, so Erasmus continued, “the exception is if the individual of common birth happens to be recognized as a master swordsman by a school with a royal license, in which case they are a member of the gentry, because swordsmanship is a 'gentlemanly art'. It wouldn't be proper for a master practitioner to be a commoner, they can't be more gentlemanly than the gentry! Sure, the gentry is the bottom rung of the peerage, but it counts.

"When I leave here, I’m going to Ostron, where I will obtain recognition as a master. Then I’ll come back here, call Count Trevallion a liar, and challenge him to a duel over his accusations. Whether he fights me or not, in the end, he’ll have to retract his statement and insist that I never attacked him, and that I didn’t steal anything from him, after the whole city sees me riding around on his horse!” the skeleton proclaimed, gesticulating excitedly.

“Wouldn’t the watch still be able to arrest you for taking the horse?”

“A duel in a situation like this is a trial-by-combat. He says I’m a bandit, I say he’s a liar, and the law says whoever emerges victorious is right.” the skeleton explained.

“But then whoever’s the best at fighting is always right!” Dell exclaimed. “Whoever is the best fighter could do whatever they want!”

“And that’s what they do, unless they’re outnumbered or it’s just not worth the trouble. Then you get politics.”

Dellromoz didn’t know what else to say, so he just sat and thought about it for a while.

“So how did you get mixed up with the Bullhides?” the adventurer asked a few minutes later.

“The who?” Dellromoz asked.

“The Bullhides, Stanhope’s City Watch. There must be an entire cow’s worth of leather wrapped around each of them, maybe more. I know watch uniforms are a little less austere in most places, but Commander Breakspear is a man of strong opinions.”

“They caught me at the gate using counterfeit papers.” Dell answered.

“Poor quality fakes?” Erasmus inquired.

“No, they were great, but...” Dell hesitated.

“Hmmm?”

“I gave them the wrong ones.” Dell admitted.

“What do you mean, ‘the wrong ones’?” Erasmus asked.

“I had several different identities prepared, but I gave them the wrong papers for the name I was using.”

After Erasmus finished laughing, he asked, “Why did you have those papers at all?”

"Well, besides the fact that I was treating some dangerous people, a private physician can usually make trouble for a barber or herbalist who they think is encroaching on their business. They treat wealthy influential people, after all. What would they do to someone like me, who's not just an herbalist, but an actual physician? I thought I should probably be prepared for the possibility that I might have to skip town."

“That’s a difficult position to be in," replied the adventurer. "Hey you must have left about the time of the fire! That's great timing actually, easy to leave unnoticed in the chaos, and a good chance they think you're dead!”

He was hunched over, coughing and choking. The flames roared around him, he looked up to see the support beams overhead charring. The ropes around him had burned away, and he crawled up the stairs on his hands and knees. The door was closed, and he reached up with his right hand to push it open, but the hand he saw wasn’t one he recognized. It was black and covered what appeared to be ash. The fingertips glowed like hot coals and fine trails of smoke rose off them. As the hand touched the door, the wood immediately blackened, burned, and collapsed into a powdery gray ash.

“Hello? Son, are you alright?” Erasmus waved his hand in front of Dellromoz’s face, which was now pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. Dell’s breathing was heavy, and his hands shook.

“I,” the gnome began before he paused, “... I don’t really know. I got out during the fire, it’s how the outfit lost track of me, but something happened. I don’t know what it was, and I don’t...” He paused again. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet.

"I did try to make them think I'd died though, I didn't go back to my office at all, my gear was stashed in a safe location, so I just disappeared without touching any of my things. How did you know about the fire?” He put his hands in his pockets to hide the way they shook.

“It’s been the big news coming out of Drumlummon for the last couple of weeks. A couple of blocks went up in the slums, burned right up to the stone wall around the University District. What's your plan now?”

"I really have no idea," Dell admitted. "I can't go to my cousin's house now, the watch will just find me and put me back in that cell. I don't have any more family, and the friends I have are back in Drumlummon, so that's no use. I guess all I can do is try to get out of Stanhope so Breakspear can't arrest me, and then go somewhere far away enough that Goswin will never find me. I'll start over when I get there."

"Spillway is out of the question, then. I suppose Osaz is still too close to really disappear," Erasmus commented, "it takes more effort than just floating down the river to the sea."

"Yeah," Dell sighed.

"Ostron isn't far enough either, but it does have a great harbor," Erasmus pointed out. "You could hop a ship to anywhere; Winam, Nunank. Jani Ci, Kee Ceke. Probably even Pustinjala or Agathocles, if you really wanted."

"That's a good point."

"I happen to know someone going that direction. Handy with a sword, or so they say," announced the Popinjay.

“Really?” Dellromoz asked, "That would be great!" For the first time since he'd arrived in Stanhope, he felt like he had a direction, like he was working toward something instead of just reacting to the situations he found himself in.

"Of course! Good company makes for a good journey."

"Hey, I have a question," said Dell, "How is it you can mimic voices and run while balancing on top of a fence?”

“Well... I’m an adventurer! Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Daring feats, plucky schemes, and the like?” the Popinjay asked, puffing out his chest.

“Yes, but how? Most people can’t balance like that, or sound exactly like someone else.” Dell pressed.

Erasmus rubbed his forehead and sighed. He took off his hat, and set it on the roof next to him, staring off into the sky for a moment. “You’re sworn to secrecy, right? You won't talk about,” he paused and gestured at himself, “my condition?”

“You don't tell anybody I'm alive, and I won't tell anyone you're dead," the gnome replied.

Erasmus laughed and looked off into the distance again. “I’m not really sure how it works, I haven’t ever encountered another like me, not here in the world of the living. There were some other people in the mists between here and the next world, trying to do what I did. I don’t know if any of them made it, I only saw one successfully navigate through a thin spot in the veil, but whether it was into this world or a different one, I couldn’t say.

“That’s a story for another time though. After I came through, I became a mistwalker, which is sort of like a ghost haunting their own bones. They’re part of me, but I’m also around them, in a sort of incorporeal way. Moving them around in a convincing manner is surprisingly difficult, when you’re not really using them to walk around. The whole thing is a sort of marionette show I’m putting on for the benefit of the people around me, but I’m both the puppet and the puppeteer.

“There are advantages, though. I don’t sleep, I don’t even get tired. I’m pretty much impervious to cold weather, or dehydration. I think most people know that about the undead, but there are a few tricks I have that are more unusual.”

“What tricks?”

“Well, there’s whatever it is that lets me walk around without muscles or tendons. Or see without eyes, or balance without... whatever it is people use to balance. It’s not a bone, right?"

Dell shook his head. “Not entirely, there’s a bunch of fiddly little bits in your ear.”

Erasmus nodded, “Right, so I realized that if I’m doing something without an organ that should be necessary to do it, then it’s magic, and maybe I can influence it a bit. Not losing my balance, changing my voice, then eventually I got so I could sometimes influence small objects I was in contact with.”

“Like what?”

“I keep my glass eyes from falling out, or my stockings from falling down. My wig doesn’t come off my head if I don’t want it to. I used to have to tie my clothes on with twine!

“I can pretend to eat, and sort of ‘hold’ the food so that it doesn’t just fall onto the floor. It floats inside my ribcage until I can go to the privy. I’m excellent at sleight-of-hand tricks for the same reason, since things basically fly up my sleeves without my hands touching them.”

Dell was about to ask another question, but Erasmus motioned at him to hold it. A carriage bearing Count Trevallion’s heraldry had left the townhouse, followed by a small entourage of riders. The procession passed by on the street below and moved off in the direction of the watchouse.

“I almost wish I could be there to hear the fit he’s going to throw.” Erasmus chuckled.

“What do we do now? There are still guards watching the house.” Dellromoz asked.

Erasmus looked at the house across the street from them. “I’m sure the gods will provide.” he said.