Tanar was about the most unremarkable town I’d ever set foot in. There were about thirty buildings, only one of which was an inn, and only one of which was a shop. The rest were houses, filled with happy, smiling families who waved to one another on the street, asking each other how their days were. The children played on the open road, shouting and laughing without a care in the world. Aromas of stewing broths and freshly baked pies wafted through the air, many of them coming from the local market, which—according to a particularly gregarious local—they put on every Apoday. Every face in this town was welcoming and smiling, and not a word the locals spoke suggested that this was anything but sincere.
All in all, I hated it.
Where was the drama? The fighting? The opportunities to pick the pockets of an irritating tourist? Not that I had the Pickpocketing skill any more, of course. On the skill front, I’d spent the journey here identifying every person we passed, and I’d built up enough experience to level the skill to level 6. Only a couple of weeks ago, the Identification skill had been game-changing for me, an easy source of experience that could get me levelling up fast. But, just as I’d realised as a child, it was a pretty useless skill, and boring, too.
In fact, dear reader, as it’s such a run of the mill skill, I’m sure we can skip me reiterating any experience gains and level ups of this skill, can’t we? Otherwise there’s going to be pages of +10xp here, and INT/WIS free point decisions there, and even if you wouldn’t get bored reading it, I’d get bored writing it. So, yeah—just assume I put that free point into Intelligence every time, because it’s true about 90% of the time in the story still to come.
As we walked into town, my eyes peeled for someone matching this Lore’s description—”tall, muscular, and always smiling” was about all Val and Corminar could give me—a certain elf’s eyes got drawn to the market stalls. More specifically, Corminar’s eyes got drawn to a small stall manned by a young man, and I knew exactly what he had grown hungry for.
‘I don’t think now’s the time to…’ I started, but Corminar hurried off towards the stall, licking his lips. To save the elf getting too sidetracked, I followed him. ‘I’m sorry for—’ I began saying to the young market stall owner, but Corminar cut me off; he’d seen something he wanted, and he was going to get it whether I was there or not.
‘Delicious,’ he said, causing me to raise an eyebrow at this opening gambit, but then I realised he’d been staring not at the local but at his goods. As in, you know, actual goods, rather than bodily ones. In front of the local man was a large and colourful array of… boiled sweets.
‘Delicious,’ Corminar said again. ‘And how much, may I ask, are you charging?’
‘One bag’s two copper, sir.’
Almost before the merchant had finished speaking, Corminar thumped two coins into his hand. He proceeded to fill the bag meticulously, scooping up not four sweets of one type, but three—four apparently being too many—and then two of another, one of another, four of another… Before long, the paper bag he’d been handed was not just full, but bursting at the seams and at severe risk of overflowing.
‘Got enough there?’ I asked.
‘If the stall charges by the bag, then we would be fools not to maximise our return on investment.’ At that moment, he squeezed the bag just an ounce too tight, and a couple of the wrapped sweets fell to the floor.
I sighed, then bent over to snatch the sweets back up; if Corminar did it, it’d only result in him losing more of them.
An arrow whooshed over my head, and buried itself in the swinging, creaking wooden sign on the market stall that read Ted’s Confectionary.
I stood back up, the confusion on my face matching the confusion on Corminar’s, and the market stall owner’s—Ted, presumably. Our three heads turned to face the direction from which the arrow had flown, and saw a man a little older than myself nocking another arrow. He raised the bow back up at me, and Corminar, Ted and I dove to the floor.
The elven ranger and I scuttled around the back of the market stall just as another arrow buried itself into the wood behind where I’d been only moments earlier.
‘Red Thorn?’ I asked Corminar as we cowered behind the stool at Ted’s side.
‘He was human,’ the elf responded. ‘And aiming at you. Though…’ Corminar trailed off.
‘Yes?’
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‘I’m sure I recognise him.’
‘A spurned former lover?’ I asked. ‘Wait, does he think I’m your boyfriend?’
‘Please,’ Corminar said.
‘“Please, I wouldn’t date him” or “Please, I wouldn’t date you”?’ I asked.
‘Come out, murderer,’ the archer shouted.
The local merchant looked from me, to Corminar, and back to me again. ‘Well, he could be talking to any one of us, I assume.’
‘Who did you…’ I started, then shook my head, cutting myself off. ‘Forget it. That’s not important.’
We paused, before Corminar finally stuck his hand up in the air, into sight of the archer. He didn’t leave it raised long enough to risk an arrow piercing it. ‘Excuse me?’ the elf ranger called out. ‘Excuse me, which murderer?’
There was a pause before our aggressor spoke. ‘Which… what?’
‘Which murderer,’ Ted clarified.
‘Yes, I heard you, it wasn’t that kind of “what”. What do you mean, which murderer?’
‘The confectionary industry is a cut-throat world, sir,’ Ted responded.
‘Did you massacre hundreds at Plainside?’
Ah. It’s me he’s after, after all.
‘No…’ Ted replied.
‘Then you can go.’
‘Are you sure? I don’t want to stand up and get an arrow to the head.’
The archer sighed. ‘Do you know the man they call “Styk”?’
‘That’s not a very good name,’ Ted replied. I shot him a dirty look, and he shrugged. ‘Sorry.’
‘Step out from behind the stall, confectioner. On my honour as a guardsman, I assure you that you will come to no harm.’
Nervously, Ted pushed his hands into the air, and then stepped out slowly from behind the stall. No arrow came; our attacker was a man of his word, at least. But who? A bounty hunter? No, he called himself a guard. But what guard would be so interested in the matter of Plainside that he pursued me halfway across a region?
Ted pointed to the pair of us still hiding behind the stall. ‘There’s two of them,’ he said.
‘Oh, thanks Ted,’ I muttered, then fixed my attention on someone who deserved my irritation a tad more; the man who’d tried to kill me. ‘What do you want?’
‘To capture you. Dead or alive. I assume the person with you is your sorcerer accomplice?’
I glanced over at Corminar, who seemed shocked to have been confused for a human woman, though his long hair and delicate features were perhaps partially to blame for this. ‘You’re collecting the bounty?’
‘I’m getting my fiancée back.’
I screwed up my face. ‘Getting your fiancée back? What do I have to do with that? You sure you have the right guy?’
‘You escaped from Umlok,’ the man called back. ‘Did you think this wouldn’t have consequences? Your escapes lost me my job. And my employer, my future father-in-law, took Sae from me. Rescinded his blessing. My name is Captain Lambkin, and I will not rest until I have you in my custody. What is it to be, Styk—will I take you into my custody dead, or will I take you alive?’
‘I would choose “alive”,’ Corminar suggested.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘Though perhaps there is a third option.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘You got any ideas?’
‘Just one.’
‘Am I going to like it?’
‘Do you have any choice?’ the ranger replied.
I shrugged. ‘Suppose not. OK. Do it.’
Corminar nodded glumly, then raised his hands to his face. Was this some hidden ability? Some trick of the elves of which I wasn’t aware? Did Corminar have magicks within him, ones he played close to his chest? My questions were answered when he used his cupped hands to shout, ‘Val! Val! We need help!’
‘That was your plan?’ I asked.
‘I did suspect you would not like it.’
"Styk"
Level 6 Novice Bladespinner
Base Stats:
Vitality — 10
Intelligence — 29
Dexterity — 15
Strength — 27
Wisdom — 11
Charisma — 0
Skills:
Knifework — Level 12
Identification — Level 6
Worldbending — Level 5
Stealth — Level 2
Abilities:
Slice — Slice the enemy for physical damage worth weapon’s base damage and additional damage scaling on [STR].
Stab — Put your weight behind your wielded blade and force the tip through tougher hides and armour. Damage scales on [STR].
Closed Reach — Bend reality to narrow the gap between blade and target by up to 8 inches. Uses mana.
Local Portal II — Create a portal to another location within current range of sight or within a ten yard radius. Uses mana/second.
Basic Stealth Attack — Passive. 10% boost to damage when unnoticed by enemy.
Basic Identification — Discover basic attributes for a particular object or person. Ability scales with [WIS] + [INT].
Active Effects:
Legacy of Sisyphus:
XP gain increased by +400%