We found the town of Aptleed under a self-imposed blockade. This, for people with rumbling stomachs—like me and Val—was bad news. I understood the reasoning; we’d witnessed first-hand just how out of control the bandit menace had grown in this part of the world. If they needed to shut the gates to protect their citizens, fair enough. I just wished it didn’t come between me and a hearty bowl of stew.

The heavy wooden northern, western, and southern gates were barred shut, and the only other obvious way in—through the port on the east—was being patrolled by perhaps two hundred of the town’s guards. On the high stone walls, more guards still stared down upon the four of us, and I couldn’t help but wonder just how much of the town’s population had found employment as guards. It had to be at least three quarters of them, it felt like.

‘Any bright ideas?’ Val asked, hands on hips as she stared up at the looming stone wall.

‘Perhaps we pursue Arzak first, and return to Aptleed on a more fortuitous day,’ Corminar suggested.

‘Are you saying we’ve come all this way for nothing?’

The elven ranger shrugged.

‘No, I’m not having that,’ Val continued. ‘We’re all smart here’ — her eyes glanced to Lore, who didn’t seem to notice — ‘between us, we can come up with a way to get in, surely.’

‘Can’t you use your changeling abilities?’ I suggested. ‘I feel like we don’t talk about those enough.’

‘And do what?’ the part-changeling herself responded.

‘I dunno, pretend to be a guard? Walk us in as prisoners?’

‘So I alone am supposed to have captured a massive barbarian, the first highest levelled archer in the Tundras, and you?’

‘You can just say “highest levelled”,’ I replied, considering also picking up on the lack of complimentary description about myself. In the end I settled for grumbling to myself about it.

‘What about you? Can’t you portal us in?’ Val asked.

‘I can do within ten feet or within line of sight. So best I could manage is top of the wall, for now, and right in sight of all those guards. I’m pretty sure I know how that one plays out.’

‘Yeah, alright, fair point,’ Val said. ‘Any other ideas?’

Lore opened his mouth, and drew in breath like he was about to offer something, when a thought occurred to me.

‘Wait,’ I said, ‘I know a way.’

Three pairs of eyes looked at me.

‘I grew up around here, if you must know. Know the town pretty well. And if I’m not mistaken, there’s a sewer outlet on the northeast side of town.’ I missed out the part where I only knew about this entrance due to sketchy Thieves Guild activities.

‘Alright, good,’ Val said, at just the same moment that Corminar said, ‘The sewer? You expect us to travel in through the sewers?’

‘Got a problem with that, C?’ Lore asked, a knowing smile on his face. He shared a look with Val.

‘I am wearing suede shoes, for Hera’s sake. Suede! Fine suede, in fact, and I should not want to—’

‘And why in the hells would you buy suede shoes for adventuring, Cor?’ Val asked.

‘I would have you know that they are very on trend in Fenrock. Besides, they were on sale.’

* * *

I led our crew around to the northern side of town, back towards where we’d tried to enter originally, but this time took us off-road and into the woods that sprawl out this side of Aptleed. We pressed towards the wall, Corminar grumbling about his shoes most of the way, and eventually found—

‘Styk, there’s a whole load of soldiers guarding it,’ Val said.

Well, yes, we found that.

The four of us crouched down behind the cover of shrubbery—always good for cover, shrubbery was—and peered through. The soldiers in front of us were milling around casually within the shade of the trees, it apparently being chance that they’d chosen this spot to rest at.

But this wasn’t what other members of the team were focusing on.

‘Interesting,’ Corminar mused.

I turned to him. ‘What is?’

‘You don’t recognise the emblem on their surcoats?’ Val asked, and before I could answer, added, ‘They’re Goldmarch soldiers.’

Lore’s mouth opened seemingly involuntarily at this revelation. ‘Goldmarch soldiers?’ he asked. ‘What are they doing this far north?’

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Val shrugged. ‘Why would I know? Do I look like Queen Amira to you?’

The barbarian looked to me, unsure how to answer.

‘He doesn’t know what Queen Amira looks like,’ I clarified for Val. ‘Neither do I, for that matter, so that was a bit of a hard—’

‘I was asking rhetorically,’ the sorcerer cut in, apparently keen to put this conversation to a stop. Fair enough, really. ‘What do we do?’

‘Perhaps it is best we wait until nighttime; perhaps they will adjourn.’

‘I’m hungry, though,’ I said, and for a moment felt ridiculous, until Val aggressively nodded her agreement.

‘Why don’t we—’ Lore started.

‘Changeling abilities?’ I suggested.

‘Why are you so keen on me shapeshifting?’

‘I just think it’s cool. Got a problem with that?’ I replied.

Lore tried again. ‘We could just—’

‘No, I haven’t got a problem with that, but it’s a bit weird, is all. I don’t obsess over your… your…’ She searched for something equivalent.

‘Sad eyes?’ Corminar suggested.

‘Not quite what I was going for, Cor.’

‘Why don’t we…’ Lore said, then sighed, and stood up from behind the bush. He waved to the twenty or so Goldmarch soldiers in front of us, and cried out, ‘Hello!’ with a large smile on his face.

Val and I looked to one another, horrified.

‘Perhaps we put him on a leash?’ Corminar suggested—the second unhelpful suggestion in as many minutes.

‘Who goes there?’ one of the soldiers, an older man with a finer sword, replied.

‘Just me!’ Lore said, and stepped out from the bushes.

‘At least he didn’t—’

‘And my three friends,’ the barbarian continued. ‘They’re just hiding behind the bushes.’

Corminar sighed, but ultimately was the first to stand and reveal himself. Val and I soon followed suit.

‘Hi,’ I said, copying Lore’s wave, though more timidly.

‘Yeah, hi,’ Val added.

‘We were just wondering,’ Lore pressed on. ‘What are you all doing here? Are you lost? Goldmarch is fifty miles south, I thought, though I’m bad at directions. I once got lost between my house and the pie shop, and I eat a lot of pie.’

‘That’s no business of yours, citizen,’ the older soldier—the one in charge, it seemed—replied.

‘Alright, yeah, fair point,’ Lore said. ‘Could I ask, though: do you see that sewer pipe behind you?’

The soldier turned, looked at the metal grate and then back to Lore. ‘I do.’

‘What would you do, say, if four people tried to get in it.’

‘We are not here to interfere.’

Lore narrowed his eyes. ‘Right, but…’

‘He’s saying we’re going to go in there, and we don’t want you to attack us,’ Val said.

‘Yes, madam, I understood. I reiterate: we’re not here to interfere. We’re only on hand to help Duke Cambelny with his bandit problem, should he allow us to.’

‘Duke not get on with Queenie?’ Val asked.

‘That’s beyond my pay grade, I’m afraid,’ the soldier replied. ‘Though I don’t think you should be calling her “Queenie”.’

‘Do you think she looks like her?’ Lore asked.

The soldier blinked at him, the burly, towering man with the wide grin on his face. ‘Who? Looks like who?’

Lore pointed to Val. ‘Her. Do you think she looks like Queenie?’

‘Queen Amira,’ the soldier corrected him.

‘Do you think she looks like Queenie Amira?’ Lore tried.

‘I…’ the soldier started, shaking his head. ‘I don’t know. Sure. If you want.’

‘So you don’t know what she looks like either?’

‘I know what she looks like, it’s just—’ The soldier caught himself, holding his hands in the air in defeat. ‘Look, if you want to sneak into Aptleed, then it’s no skin off my teeth.

‘I don’t think teeth have skin,’ Lore said.

The soldier didn’t bother hiding his sigh. He stepped aside, and gestured towards the sewer pipe that was slowly oozing… material… into a small pond. ‘Please, be my guest,’ he said.

‘Great!’ Lore said, and turned back to the three of us still standing at the edge of the woods, before his face dropped.

‘No time like the present,’ Val said, moving towards the sewers with a spring in her step that probably didn’t befit the task before us.

‘Guys…’ Lore repeated.

‘Does anyone have a change of footwear I could borrow?’ Corminar asked the soldiers.

‘Guys!’ the barbarian tried once more.

‘Yes, Lore, whatever is it?’ Corminar replied, still eyeing up the soldiers’ boots.

The barbarian gestured towards six bandits stepping out of the trees behind us.

‘Gods, not again,’ I mumbled.

At the same moment, Val turned to the soldiers, and nodded towards the bandits. ‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘You won’t interfere?’

The captain nodded. ‘We will not interfere.’

‘Great,’ Val said, and Lore reached for his sword.

"Styk"

Level 7 Novice Bladespinner

Base Stats:

Vitality — 10

Intelligence — 37

Dexterity — 15

Strength — 27

Wisdom — 15

Charisma — 0

Skills:

Knifework — Level 12

Worldbending — Level 9

Identification — Level 6

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%