‘Reveal your artifact to me once more, and I will inspect it,’ the expert said.

‘Couldn’t you have like… done that while we were busy almost dying for you and your bloody overdue library books?’ Val asked.

The expert ignored her, his eyes fixed on mine. Within them, there was almost a hunger to get his hands on the Sisyphus Artifact, and part of me resisted the idea of handing it over—even temporarily.

Lore watched me carefully as I removed the artifact from my pocket and placed it gently on the desk in front of us. If I wasn’t mistaken, he moved his hand ever so slightly closer to his sword—had he noticed the same hunger within the old man?

The expert picked up the Sisyphus Artifact delicately, almost as though afraid to touch it. ‘Hmm…’ he said. ‘Hmm… Is it? It is, isn’t it?’ He coughed, placing the object back down on the table and taking a half-step away. ‘It’s real.’

‘I could’ve told you that,’ I replied.

‘Do people often come to you with questions about fake magical artifacts?’ Val asked.

‘Not all of my customers know they hold fakes. When you said that it was this… well, I thought it couldn’t be the real thing.’

I took a seat on the one chair facing the artifact expert’s desk. Val and Lore were going to have to stay standing. ‘Go on.’

‘There is little information about this artifact, for it has been lost to the years.’

‘It’s old, then?’

The old man laughed, a raucous guffaw loud enough to make the knickknacks on his desk shake. ‘Old? Yes, you could say that. This object was made with Alterra itself, back when the Architects created our world. That even some information has survived all this time is a miracle.’

I felt a chill wash over me. That I’d been carrying around something so old, something presumably crafted by an Architect… I shivered at the thought.

‘I’m afraid that all I can tell you is… the legends say that this artifact is inextricably linked to the lives of the gods. In what way, I could not guess, but my feeling is that the only way to find out would be to…’ The old man licked his lips, apprehensive about his own forthcoming words. ‘Would be to take the life of a Player.’

Val and I made eye contact, both of us making apparent painstaking effort to keep our expressions useful.

‘We—’ Lore started, not quite on the same page as the rest of us, interrupted by Val flicking her hand to him, signalling for him to stop.

The old man considered us carefully.

‘You’re saying that this Player,’ I said, ‘this god, he fears his own mortality?’

‘I should think not,’ the expert said. ‘Alterra is just one of hundreds—if not thousands—of worlds that the Players rule over. That they might die in one of them would extinguish their touch upon it forever, true… But they have countless more lives on which to fall back. Their death in one? Surely nothing to them. Unless they have already been slain in all the others.’

‘What, then?’ Val asked. ‘Why might a Player want such a device, then?’

‘Perhaps they think it their birthright. Beyond this… I would not want to guess.’

Val moved to complain, but the man was shrewd enough to see it coming.

‘If you want more information, you might try Lillya, up north in Thistle Fort. She has access to the old orc tomes. Rumours say they hold information about the creation of this world that human eyes have never seen…’

* * *

We didn’t have time to head north to Thistle Fort, of course; this would add weeks onto our journey, and the rest of the party would have been waiting back southeast in only a few days. As a result, we parked this information—or at least I did; Val and Lore didn’t seem so interested—and journeyed back to the tavern, where we found that we were the first group to return.

So we did what any good team does while waiting for the other half: we drank. Val’s seemingly endless supply of coin bought us pint after pint—after a while I was starting to suspect there was something magic going on in that pocket she kept pulling coins from—and I was a little woozy by the time someone suggested playing some cards.

It must have been either Val or me, because Lore quickly made his excuses, saying something along the lines of “I don’t like ‘em much” before disappearing up to our shared room and leaving me and Val to it.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Val taught me a game I’d not encountered before, called Toads, which seemed to be a fairly basic trick-taking game with various drinking game rules layered on top, which pretty much made it the best game I’d ever heard of. Val got increasingly both furious and drunk as I kept winning, and both these factors seemed to improve her ability to bluff, until I was in much the same state as her.

‘Where you learn cards, anyway?’ Val asked.

I shrugged. ‘From my dad, before he passed. Always loved a game or two. Or, well, no. He loved betting on a game or two.’

‘Did he win much?’

‘No.’

‘And does this explain…’ Val started, drunk but not so drunk that she didn’t know when to trail off.

‘Why he died surrounded by people stabbing him?’ I replied. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I suppose it does. And that’s why I don’t gamble.’

Val raised an eyebrow. ‘You? Not gamble? I’ve seen you take plenty of risks when we’re fighting.’

‘Mostly to save your arse.’

The sorcerer blinked. ‘I’ve never been in a situation I wouldn’t have been able to get out of. Don’t credit yourself too much, portal boy.’

I raised my eyebrows and exaggeratedly rolled my eyes to let Val know what I thought of that response, but let the subject lie. ‘Point is, I don’t tend to gamble money. I don’t like the idea that my dad’s passed it on to me. His habits, I mean. He might not have done, but…’

‘You don’t want to open that door to find out?’

‘Exactly.’

I must have passed out somewhere into the twelfth round, because at that point I seemed to suddenly feel a bucket of cold water wash over my head. I blinked myself back to reality, accompanied by a pounding headache.

Tokas stood over me, empty bucket in hand, and over on the other side of the bar table, where we’d fallen asleep, Arzak stood with another empty bucket over a gasping Val. ‘You… you…’ she spluttered, eyes wide. ‘You drowned my cards!’ She pulled her hand from the wet table and two playing cards came with it.

‘I buy new pack,’ Arzak responded.

‘You are still drinking on the job, then?’ Tokas asked. ‘And I see you’re influencing this one much the same.’

‘This one?’ I repeated.

Val shrugged, then clutched at her head, hand glowing with the pale yellow-white light of healing magicks. ‘He’s already a bad influence.’

‘Oi!’ I said, nodding at her hand. ‘You got me drunk, you can sort out my hangover first.’

Val pointed at Tokas, who sighed. ‘She can do it.’

‘You both can do it,’ I corrected her. ‘It’s a bad one.’

‘That’s not how healing magicks work,’ Tokas replied as she reluctantly placed her hands very gently on my head.

‘You can only be healed from one source at a time,’ Val confirmed. ‘If I started healing you, then Tokas tried, you’d just get my magicks. And you want hers anyway.’

Tokas smiled politely, grateful for the compliment.

Already the pounding headache was starting to fade, and before long I could think straight.

‘Not too much,’ Arzak said. ‘Deserve some pain.’

As Tokas pulled her hands away, I protested, ‘I thought you said you weren’t gonna be the boss any more!’

‘I no boss Slayers around. They just know good advice.’

I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at Arzak; something told me she wouldn’t take it in quite the same spirits as Val did.

Tokas shrugged. ‘The boss says you deserve a hangover.’

‘She’s not the boss,’ Val mumbled, at the same moment that Arzak said, ‘I’m not boss.’

The tiefling shrugged again. ‘Same end result.’

‘We should try hair of the—’ Val said.

‘No,’ the orc cut in. ‘No more drink. Serious business now.’ She glanced to Tokas. ‘Get Lore. We talk now.’

‘What’s going on?’ Val asked. ‘Did you find something out?’

‘Yes,’ Arzak replied. ‘We find our strategy.’

"Styk"

Level 8 Novice Bladespinner

Base Stats:

Vitality — 16

Intelligence — 69

Dexterity — 23

Strength — 36

Wisdom — 23

Charisma — 0

Skills:

Worldbending — Level 16

Knifework — Level 15

Identification — Level 8

Stealth — Level 5

Abilities:

Slice — Slice the enemy for physical damage worth weapon’s base damage and additional damage scaling on [STR].

Stab II — Put your weight behind your wielded blade and force the tip through tougher hides and armour. Damage scales on [STR], increased by an additional 20%.

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.

Portal Slice — Passive. Portals can now be spawned within non-sentient objects. Doing so slices through all objects that are not reinforced by magic.

Ash Husk — Convert your flesh to ash, strengthening it against flame for ten minutes. Gain 50% resistance to fire attacks.

Stealth Attack — Passive. 50% 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%