Almost a week had passed since our disastrous encounter with the Player.
I, along with what remained of the Slayers, had been keeping to the shadows, spending much of our time in the dense evergreen forests that bordered the northern coast of the Iron Sea. Here, we could stay out of sight not just of the Player and Lev, but of any locals who might jump to offer this information to our enemy.
Val, making use of her changeling abilities, had been the one to amble into a village—never the same one twice—and either purchase us some more food or steal it. We had one eye on our dwindling coin reserves, after all. But Val’s changeling abilities were limited due to her only having a small amount of changeling blood. This meant that she couldn’t take on another person’s face all that often, and sometimes it was up to the rest of us to sneak into a town under the cover of darkness, and…
Well, there’s no glamorous way of saying this, so I’ll put it frankly: we’d go into towns at night, and we’d look through bins. It was quite a fall from grace for this thief extraordinaire, I’ll tell you that.
Val and I hadn’t been wasting the last few days, however. While we’d been hiding, recovering from the deep scars that the butcher of Plainside had inflicted on us, we’d been training. For my part, I’d been working on my Knifework and my Worldbending skills, training the former up against any local wildlife—much to Lore’s chagrin, though he knew not to say anything—and the latter simply by casting portals. I’d kept these portals down low to avoid the glow attracting any attention.
Now that we’d suffered such a great defeat, I’d realised that maybe I could have been a bit less lax about my progression. Sure, I only had so much mana to cast portals, but I certainly hadn’t used all of it every day. And, as it turned out, Corminar could craft some weak mana potions from a lot of the more common plants in this area, which he’d been doing for me as and when we stumbled across any.
Since our defeat, I’d levelled up both of my key skills a couple of levels, putting Knifework at level 17, and Worldbending at 18. I’d, naturally, not unlocked any new abilities during this time, but those additions to my base stats were valuable. I’d even put a few into Vitality this time around, as I’d perhaps been a bit lucky to avoid significant damage in our battle with the Player.
I’d even considered picking up a crafting skill, but I had no tools or, frankly, any imagination at this particular moment.
Val, on the other hand, had been trying to level up a skill she’d forsaken over the years, happy to use it exclusively to cure hangovers. Now that Tokas was not in the party, we were relying on Val to heal any wounds—a fact that none of us had needed to tell her; she set about trying to progress almost immediately.
Her progression was limited, however, by the fact that we soon had few wounds to mend. Without a target, Val couldn’t cast her magicks, and therefore couldn’t generate experience. She’d settled for a very low level healing spell on the deep wounds that she and Lore had suffered at the hands of the pyroknight, though this kept her progression to a minimum. It definitely wouldn’t be enough to turn the tide on the Player—or even so much as catch up with Tokas—when he eventually succeeded in tracking us down.
It was my turn to rummage through bins for food on this particular night, and I’d done well to avoid it so far. I tried to think of it as an opportunity to level up my overlooked Stealth skill, and less as something vermin would do. I left the burnt, abandoned farmhouse we’d been sheltering in—I think we all appreciated the irony of this—as clouds smothered the full moon, casting true darkness upon this area of the Tundras.
The nearby village was small enough that it didn’t appear on any maps. There were only seven buildings, none of them a tavern—perhaps why Val hadn’t changeling-ed up for this particular evening—and the only place of business a small shop that seemed to double as a stable. I figured this was my best bet for edible food; the owner wouldn’t be able to sell food that was at the end of its life, but it would probably still be edible.
I crept around the back of the shop, keeping low. I couldn’t see anyone around, but there was no sense risking it. I was just opening the bin at the back, my eyes landing on some promising-looking potatoes, when I heard voices approaching.
‘...came through here earlier. Weird chap.’
I looked around, desperately searching for somewhere to hide, and ended up jumping into the bin just in time.
Stealth — +200xp
Stealth increased to level 6!
Base Points gained — +1 DEX, +1 WIS, +1 Free Points (DEX/WIS)
I remained deathly still while the two pairs of footsteps grew closer. It wasn’t that I was worried about these people attacking me, of course. But if they saw me, that was two pairs of eyes who might report me back to—
‘Stranger than Eric?’
‘Nobody’s as strange as Eric, you know that. Eric doesn’t walk around in burnt clothes, though, at least.’
Burnt clothes? This wasn’t promising. Had the pyroknight come through here already? Was he pursuing us with so much haste that he hadn’t even bothered to change his clothes after the fight?
‘Well, what’d he want?’ one of the locals asked.
‘Looking for people, he was. A couple of humans, an elf, a—’
‘What’s such a ragtag group doing round these parts, then?’
‘Well I ain’t saying they were round these parts, am I? Just that this bloke was looking for them.’
The less edible items in the bin, I noticed, were letting off a pretty unpleasant smell. I resisted the urge to gag.
‘Blimey, criminals around here? That’s the most exciting thing that’s happened around these parts all year.’
‘What, more exciting than that time you found that potato that looked like a rockrat?’
‘Well, no, but that’s mostly because I sold it for so much, didn’t I? Paid for my…’
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The voices trailed away, just out of earshot. I remained still for a while longer nonetheless, trying my very best to ignore the stench of the bin rising through my nostrils.
Finally, when I could bear it no more, I leapt from my hiding place and dived to the ground. I remained incredibly still, just in case one of the two men were still around, but I heard nothing. Only when I thought it was safe to do so did I rise to a crouch and begin running back to the abandoned farmhouse, completely forgetting the potatoes.
I ran across the road, keeping low, rising only once I was confident I was hidden by the dense trees. From there, I ran as fast as I could, the sprinting draining my stamina—a power bar that I didn’t usually have to worry about—and I burst back into the farmhouse, sparing little concern for making too much noise.
‘Where’s the grub?’ Val asked, looking at my empty hands and not my pale face.
‘Someone in town was looking for us,’ I said, ignoring the sorcerer.
Corminar rose to his feet, his bow suddenly in his hands. ‘At this very moment?’
‘No. Earlier. But that doesn’t mean we’ve escaped him, does it? Means that he could be in the woods, closing on us right now. We should go, we should get moving, we can skip dinner this once. We can—’
Our heads turned as a branch snapped beneath foot outside. We remained still, quiet, barely a breath heard in this silence. Corminar, slowly and steadily, nocked an arrow and prepared to fire.
Another footstep. Closer, now.
Corminar held his bow with perfect focus, his eyes on the doorway.
A figure stepped into it, silhouetted by the moonlight.
‘No,’ I breathed, preparing myself for the inevitable flames, for the pain, for the torment.
But then the man stepped forward, into the light of the dim fire. A bow over one shoulder, a satchel over the other, Lambkin looked at each of us in turn. His clothes were torn, were burnt, and it was only at this point that I realised that it hadn’t been the Player asking for us in town.
‘You!’ Corminar shouted—louder than was wise, considering the circumstances. ‘We’ve had quite enough of you.’
Lambkin thrusted his hands into the air in surrender, seemingly just in time to avoid taking an arrow to the head. ‘I’m not here to fight!’
‘Then why here?’ Arzak demanded. These were some of the first words she’d said since Tokas’s betrayal.
Lambkin paused to consider his words, the silence stretching seemingly into infinity. And then, finally, he said, ‘I’ve seen building burned to the ground. I’ve seen Goldmarch soldiers in the Tundras. And, worst of all, I have seen Players doing evil. All with you lot at the centre of it. I suppose I’m here to learn just what in the hells is going on.’
* * *
Lambkin came bearing food, and for that reason alone, I think, Corminar allowed the man to join us at the fireside. As we ate, taking care to nibble only a little at a time on the provided bread rolls, we told Lambkin the truth of what had happened over the past month and a half. Where before, the ex-captain of Umlok wouldn’t have put any trust in our story, he now listened carefully, asking clarifying questions here and there, but seemingly taking our word as fact.
When finally we finished, Lambkin spent some time staring silently into the dwindling fire, and both myself and the Slayers joined him in this moment of reflection. The flames grew dimmer, and for a moment I considered waving my hands through it, testing the limit of Ash Husk while I was at it.
‘I have something,’ Lambkin finally said, pulling forward his bag and flipping it open. ‘A gift. For all of you. Think of it as an apology.’
We watched at the man pulled out a number of items: a blade that I could not yet effectively wield; a collection of small potion vials, of varying colours; and an array of unmounted arrow heads.
‘I borrowed some supplies from the Barony of Umlok,’ he explained.
‘When you say “the barony”, do you mean the castle or the lands at large?’ Val asked.
‘Yes,’ the ex-captain replied, before picking up two of the vials that glowed the brightest. ‘These are the strongest healing potions you’ll ever set your eyes on. They’re the Baron’s, really, to be used in case of dire emergency, and of a quality that only the richest and most powerful could ever afford.’
Corminar took the vials in his hands, inspecting them against the light of the fire. He nodded his approval.
‘They good?’ Arzak asked.
‘I admit that they are of a higher quality than I myself could craft.’
‘They’ll automatically heal whoever drinks them very quickly,’ Lambkin said. ‘If for a fairly limited time. But I only have two. If you are to use them against this Player, then—’
‘Who says we fight Player?’ Arzak interrupted.
Lambkin blinked at the orc, confused. ‘Is that not the only way that this ends? Or do you intend to run forever. Surely you must realise that either he dies… or you do?’
Arzak said nothing.
‘We will fight the Player,’ Corminar confirmed, handing the two vials to Lore. ‘In our own time. Lore?’
‘Yes?’
‘Give one of the vials to Arzak. If we are to fight again, it is the pair of you that will be receiving the most damage.’
I nodded my approval; I would’ve suggested the same.
Lambkin began to hand the knife over to me, but I held out my hand.
‘I can’t use it. Not yet,’ I said. ‘Not for a long time yet.’
‘Hold it until you do?’ the captain suggested.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to weigh myself down more than I have to. Think we’re gonna need to move fast, when the time comes.’
Lambkin nodded. ‘Alright. It’s here when you need it. Consider it my atonement.’ He handed over the arrow tips to Corminar. ‘And these, I should’ve equipped back when I came across you. But how was I to know that…’
‘I know what to do,’ Corminar said, more snatching than taking the arrow heads.
Lambkin didn’t say anything about the snatching, but considered Corminar—and the group at large—carefully. ‘I wanted justice. Not for those who died, but for myself, and what I lost. I wanted the right thing, but for the wrong reasons, and that I took for granted that it was you instead of a Player… I am sorry. But, perhaps, if I might make a suggestion? Hate me for it later. For the time being, we could fight alongside one another.’
"Styk"
Level 9 Novice Bladespinner
Base Stats:
Vitality — 20
Intelligence — 77
Dexterity — 26
Strength — 38
Wisdom — 25
Charisma — 0
Skills:
Worldbending — Level 18
Knifework — Level 17
Identification — Level 8
Stealth — Level 6
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%