“HELP ME!”

Screams Sir Rasdy Tofem, the Commander-in-chief of the North District 18th Regiment Skywatch. The eyes of the guards and other officials alike turn towards the fat gentlemen crashing into the lobby of the Citadel. Behind him, close in pursuit, are the party of adventurers. Durand, wraithlike, glides towards the portly target effortlessly. Cenvin, dumbass-like, waddles behind as he yawns from sleep deprivation. Lenny, feral in his concentration on Rasdy, climbs along the wall, leaping decisively for an attack. He slashes the man’s back, drawing blood. He licks the red off his claws and with a newfound annoyance, he resumes his pursuit.

The guards attempt to stop the intruders, but their higher-ranking bureaucrats, most of them paid out by Shadow’s Edge or deceived, raise their arms to stop the spears. Seeing the lack of support from his peers, Rasdy screams in dread and scrambles into a Hyperslate packed with people. Durand tries to rush in, but as he makes room for himself Cenvin and Lenny also catch up and try to squeeze in. In the ensuing chaos, Durand backs away.

“Where is he?”

He demands. He turns to the staircase to see a plump man rushing up.

“Ok… didn’t know how he snuck out, but he’s fat. That means he’s slow. C’mon!”

Upon Durand’s summoning, Cenvin and Lenny both dash towards the stairs. Cenvin gets there first, coming face-to-face with a pair of guards who had heard the commotion. Shouting, they stab their spears at Cenvin, who dodges both. Lenny coming up behind, he mimics a throwing motion and tosses out a faceful of poisonous mist. The guards choke and using this opportunity, Cenvin lashes out with his dual shortswords, one stab each to finish them off. Durand claps his hands.

“We’re losing him! Go!”

Lenny rapidly leaps up several steps at once, to see Rasdy’s packed frame pushing through the exit on the second floor.

“Second floor! If we can trap him, he will be a dead man!”

“We’re in the headquarters of Italica’s primary armed forces! We don’t have time, just kill him!”

Durand shouts from below. Lenny nods and draws his beloved scimitar, Rikki Tikki Tavi, named after a good friend. He leaps into the second floor, where a maze of hallways branches into rooms of various importance. He searches the hallways as fast as he can, peeking inside each room every time he sees one. Behind him, Durand and Cenvin are also frantically searching. A Hyperslate appears, carrying a group of the Skywatch to subdue the party. Durand notices and snatches the pair of shortswords from Cenvin’s hand.

“Hey! That’s my weapon, what are you doing?”

“I’ve always meant to ask to use these, you never gave me a chance. Just search! I’ll hold them off,” Durand’s lips raise into a confident smile. Before dashing to battle the guards head-on, he summons a hail of thorns to deal AOE damage to the guards. Bearing the pain, the lead two guards jab their spears at Durand, one of which embedded itself in his chest. Grunting from the pain, Durand slashes at them with his shortswords. Using a Ranger feature known as horde breaker, he transforms his attacks into a whirlwind of blades, tearing through the weakened guards. Some fall, but others, bloodied and determined, raise their spears for another attack. Three jabs Durand in the back and two at the front. Durand kneels, but he pops a mouthful of Goodberry and stands, pulling out the spearheads to the guards’ astonishment. They go for another round of attacks, but nothing hits except for one small graze on the shoulder. A rain of attacks by Durand wipes the rest of them out.

Cenvin and Lenny drag Rasdy into view, who’s blubbering and pleading for his life.

“Most excellent Mercs! I promise, I’ll keep a blind eye to your machinations from now on, please, my good sirs, spare me, I’ll do anything! Anything and everything! Just please let me go-”

Rasdy’s head drops limp as Durand slices his throat open.

“Thought you didn’t like killing important targets?” Cenvin playfully teases.

“Not the occasion for that,” Durand mutters back. His eyes trained on another Hyperslate’s worth of guards rushing towards them.

“Yikes. You got a lot of bruises on you. Give my shortswords back. I’ll hold them off while you guys find a way to escape,” Cenvin states, despite Durand’s objection. He grabs the shortswords and charges into the fray, instantly vanishing amongst the uniformed and orderly guards. Blood begins to flick onto the walls and the ceiling.

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

Durand watches for a mesmerizing moment, then he comes back to reality.

“Window! We’re on the second floor, we can probably tank the fall damage!”

“I know the perfect window,” Lenny suddenly yells. “Follow!”

Durand follows Lenny while looking back nervously at Cenvin’s bloody battle. They arrive at Lenny’s spot and a glowing white orb crashes in before anything else.

“Nyri!” Durand yells in happiness.

The orb does not pause. It rushes to the guards, procedurally wrapping around their necks and snapping them. In under five seconds, nearly all of the fighters are dead. Cenvin is on his knees, visibly injured and and bruised. Nyri forms a blanket and wraps Cenvin up, transporting him outside and safely onto the ground. She subsequently helps Durand and Lenny down. She then chases a black spirit into the jungle of the Skytowers.

The party brushes aside confused pedestrians and stumbles into a dark alleyway. They turn blindly with no destination in mind with the fear of the universe. The rays radiating from the veiled sun thread through the Skytowers above to reach a small square, spreading a layer of snow onto a small urchin. The little girl sits with her head in her lap, covering herself, and protecting her face from the otherworldly public. Upon hearing the ragged heavy steps of the party she raises her naturally clean face, an uncanny contrast with her dirtied body and tattered clothes. She adjusts a small viridescent scarf on her neck and stands up to greet the adventurers. Her freckled face is innocent in its awe at these grown, bleeding adults who pay no heed to her little frame.

“So you guys do bleed!” She yells as the party dashes past.

Durand stops and holds his hand, silently ordering Cenvin and Lenny to follow suit. They crumple on the ground. Huffing through their painfully dry throats, Durand takes out his flask and drinks a large gulp of water. He passes it to Lenny and Cenvin, who each ravenously drink the elixir. Retrieving his flask from a reluctant Cenvin, he turns to the urchin.

“What was that?”

The urchin limps toward a long stick. Her left leg is visibly skinnier than normal, both in terms of skin and bones.

“Now we know that the big grownups can be beaten, we will figure out their weakness!”

She yells triumphantly. Cenvin and Durand exchange glances in confusion. Lenny speaks up.

“Little girl, us adults, unlike you little midgets, have no constant weakness. One man’s fear is the source of courage for another man. Now, tell us who you are and what are you doing here?”

He looks around the square. It’s a mundane spot, perfectly average. There’s a little closed-down antique store on one side, a door to the other, but nothing more. The square lacks sunlight in most spots, except for the center. There, the urchin limps back and forth on her stick, humming like a performer under the spotlight(she’s out of tune).

What I am doing here is my own problem

Your business here is bankrupt, so go away

I was relaxing in my den

Then you knuckleheads come crashing in

And begins spouting nonsense

What pathetic roleplay are you guys attempting to do, are you dense?

She stops as a grizzled old man enters the square and unveils the small antique shop. The urchin smiles sheepishly at the party and goes to help.

“Heya Nota Nyfun!”

The old man looks down cheerfully at the girl. His neutral expression melts into a gentle smile.

“Ah, hearken here, Shyn, me old friend!”

The party watches silently as the two unload the goods from a box and carefully set them on a moldy shelf. Shyn leans down to grab her stick and points at the party.

“Customers!”

The old man turns as if he has just noticed them.

“Ah, well met, good sirs! Be it me wares ye seek this day? And by the saints, thy beastie is a right charming creature, he is!” he ruffles Lenny’s fur pleasantly. Lenny rapidly steps back and bares his teeth. “Pray, cast thine eyes upon the treasures I’ve laid out for thee!”

“God, finally Diem inserts an NPC who actually speaks medieval,” Cenvin steps forward to observe the wares, his injuries temporarily forgotten.

The old man’s little stand, truth be told, barely qualifies as a shop. The few trinkets laid out are dusty and pitiful so no logical customer would ever buy these for gold.

After carefully blowing the dust off a silver ring encrusted with a cheap-looking gem, Durand carefully slides it on his pinky, and it matches perfectly. He lets out a breath in satisfaction.

“I’ll take this…?”

“I be Foas, keeper o' this fine shop.”

“Right. Well, Foas, how much for this wonderful ring?”

He tilts his head and Shyn, standing on a stool, whispers into his ear. He nods and announces his price in a show-and-tell fashion.

“That'll be two silver, if it please thee, good sir! A fair bargain, I reckon!”

Durand searches in his pouch and produces a single gold coin apologetically.

“I hope you offer change?”

“Ah, pardon, but I’ve no small coin to spare for change, good sir. Mayhap thou hast the exact sum?

Durand paces awkwardly while Cenvin draws back, shaking his head disappointed at the lack of merchandise. Shyn quietly consults with Foas. He offers the party an offer.

“Ah, thou look'st worse for wear, good sir! How to say ye I make amends for lackin' change by offerin' thee a bit o' me humble hospitality?”

“Okay, now I see why Diem doesn’t put these characters in the campaign. They’re not easy to understand.”

Durand bows.

“We will be incredibly grateful for that.”

Foas opens the other door in the square.

“Ah, come then, follow me to where I dwell. I'll see ye right, I shall!”

The party scrambles to follow Foas’s inconsistent pace, occasionally tripping and occasionally running, based on what Foas feels like doing. Shyn, who falls behind quickly because of her leg, yells and whoops happily as she rides on Lenny’s back as he runs quadrupedally. Cenvin pretends not to notice, while Durand plays with her as she hangs on to Lenny’s thick fur.

Finally, Foas announces that they’ve arrived at his abode.