We accompanied Aiwin back to their home on the south side of town, them and Corminar striding far ahead of us and engaging in conversation that the rest of the team weren’t privy to. Aiwin’s hand, I noticed, often touched against Corminar’s arm, and made it down to his bottom a couple of times too.
‘Do you think those two—’ Lore started.
‘Yep,’ I replied, at the same time as Arzak grunted her agreement.
‘When Cor’s involved, is it ever really a doubt?’ Val asked.
‘S’pose not.’
The kettle was boiling over a magick-induced flame when we entered Aiwin’s home, and the old man and the young elf hurried to embrace one another.
‘You succeeded!’ the man said to Corminar, once the embrace was over, and he then moved to hug the ranger as well.
‘I don’t suppose you really thought we would fail?’ Corminar replied. ‘Being that you do have the kettle on, ready for us.’
The old man smiled. ‘Always plan for the best outcome, I do.’
Lore nodded. ‘Me too!’
We settled in various seats around the room—Corminar and Aiwin on the sofa, Lore leaning against the wall, Arzak on the floor with legs crossed, and Val in one of the armchairs scowling at me for perching on one of the arm rests. A few moments later, the old man—who, it had turned out, was just an old friend of Aiwin’s—returned with a tray full of cups on saucers, each of them clattering slightly in his shaky hands. He passed them out one by one, and when I took my own, a pungent wood smell filled my nostrils.
‘What is it?’ Val asked, staring into the red-brown liquid.
‘The bark of the saltash tree,’ Aiwin replied. ‘It is no surprise that you haven’t come across it before; there is little demand for it outside of the Dawnwoods. But for me, it is a taste of home?’
Corminar murmured his agreement.
‘My birthseed was a saltash, you know,’ Aiwin said.
Arzak leaned forwards, tiny teacup in giant green hands, pinky finger pointing out stiffly. ‘What is birthseed? Corminar not tell us this.’
‘It was no secret,’ Corminar clarified. ‘Only a matter I did not share.’
‘And why not, Cladenor?’ Aiwin said, knocking at Corminar playfully with the back of their hand. ‘Always so secretive, this one.’ They turned their head to the orc. ‘Arzak, was it?’
Arzak nodded, her face betraying no emotion—as ever.
‘For an elf, a birthseed is a seed plucked from the land where you were born. If planted in the Dawnwood, the wood of the resulting tree will be enchanted with properties tailored towards your class. Supposedly it is intervention from Gaia herself, plucking at the strings of reality, that enchants the plant in this way.’
‘Is powerful?’ Arzak asked, her eyes on Corminar. ‘Why never plant it?’
‘To plant it… to nurture it… this would require me to reside in the Dawnwood. You know I do not return there.’
‘You never say why.’
Aiwin gasped. ‘Cladenor! Have you really changed so little?’ The elf turned their attention to the rest of the room. ‘This man will simply not talk about his demons. When we were together—’
Lore gasped. ‘You were together?’
Aiwin and Corminar both shot the barbarian a curious expression, and then the former shook their head and got back to their story. ‘When we were together, this man would not tell you if he had so much as a headache. Ever the lieutenant, always seeking to lead his men by appearing untouchable.’
‘Wait, what? You were a lieutenant?’ I asked.
Val elbowed me in the side. Hard. ‘Styk.’
‘What?’ I replied, upturning my hands. ‘What did I do?’
‘I am assuming that your friend knows Corminar does not much like to talk about it,’ Aiwin said, which earned a nod from Val. ‘Unless…’
Corminar shook his head, and an awkward silence fell over the room. To fill it, I sipped at my tea and took a slightly too pointed breath afterwards.
‘I never asked,’ Aiwin said, turning to Corminar. ‘I suppose you are here to… reconnect?’ Though they’d phrased it carefully, I think everyone in the room—except maybe Lore—knew exactly what they’d meant. ‘I’ve never had a man put together a team to save me before…’ Aiwin’s hand stroked Corminar’s long hair—luscious enough to rival even their own.
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The ranger smiled at them. ‘As much as I’d like to… reconnect, my dear, I am afraid we sought you out on rather urgent business.’
Aiwin’s hand paused mid-stroke, then surreptitiously moved it away from Corminar’s head. ‘Oh?’
‘Difficulty with the Thorn,’ Corminar explained. ‘A matter of an unpaid debt. We seek the depth raider that you mentioned in your letters.’
‘The Thorn?’ Aiwin asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘I was under the impression that you had sworn off all affiliation with our fellow emigrated kind?’ There was a pointed look that accompanied this question. Aiwin knew something about Corminar that we didn’t. A great many things, perhaps.
‘I assure you, no affiliation was intended. For all their great many sins, the Red Thorn do pay rather well.’
Aiwin held the ranger’s gaze, as though silence might break him. They couldn’t know him that well, then, if they thought that was going to work.
‘Corminar…’ I said, able to hold back the question no longer. ‘Have you been… exiled… from the Dawnwoods? Like the Thorn?’
The elf glanced over at me. ‘Exiled? No. Do not categorise me with those criminals. I am only…’ He searched for the word. ‘I am discouraged from returning. They could not exile me—certainly not after all that I did for them.’
‘I don’t suppose you have told them?’ Aiwin asked.
Corminar shook his head—a single, definitive movement.
It was Val, of all people, who saved Corminar from what was clearly an uncomfortable conversation for him. She turned to Aiwin. ‘You can tell us where the depth raider is?’
‘Certainly. The depth raider is no complicated matter; it is being kept as a pet by a young family not two days’ travel from here.’
‘As a pet?’ Lore asked. ‘Is that safe?’
Aiwin nodded. ‘The depth raider is a small beast—one that many mistake for being harmless. “Cute”, I believe is the word most often used. In most situations, they are, in fact. It is only once the raider moves into the vicinity of someone with immense power that the trouble begins, for immense power it can use. Immense power it can adopt as its own, if only for a short time, but a creature such as this only requires a moment to reap great destruction. But you know all this.’ Aiwin glanced at Corminar, who gave no indication of his own feeling of the matter. ‘Or at least Corminar does.’
‘Good,’ Arzak said, putting the empty teacup down as carefully as she could manage. ‘We get your hair out, then.’
‘“Get out of your hair”,’ Lore whispered to her.
‘We get out of your hair, then,’ Arzak corrected herself. ‘Tell us where is. We pay.’
‘Pretty sure getting you out of prison is payment enough,’ Val added.
Aiwin glanced at the sorcerer, and if I wasn’t mistaken, a flicker of annoyance flashed across their eyes.
Val, sitting on the chair next to me, tensed slightly—she’d noticed it too.
But Aiwin didn’t refute Val’s statement, instead saying, ‘The depth raider is the least of your concerns. Simple, in fact, is the retrieval of such a beast. The true value exists in knowing how to control it, and for that, you will require—’
‘A witchfinder’s clasp,’ Val said, voice low.
Aiwin turned to Corminar. ‘Oh, so that you have told them? Just which of our platoon’s excursions have you spoken about, and which have you not? I will need to know, if I am to travel with you.’
The ranger remained silent for a moment. ‘They knew of the clasp regardless of context—context that I had not shared.’
‘And what makes you think you’re travelling with us?’ Val asked.
‘You want a witchfinder’s clasp?’ Aiwin replied. ‘This is no small feat. The witchfinders know their value—the blood of a witch is oh-so rare, these days—and they will not part with one for just anybody. Fortunately for you all, I have contacts in the Goldmarch. The right word in the right ear, and anything can be yours.’ They turned to Corminar. ‘I learned that from the best.’
Val opened her mouth to speak, but Arzak suddenly—wisely?—leapt in to speak before she could. ‘OK. You come with. We get clasp first.’
"Styk"
Level 12 Bladespinner
Base Stats:
Vitality — 26
Intelligence — 115
Dexterity — 44
Strength — 50
Wisdom — 32
Charisma — 8
Skills:
Worldbending — Level 27
Knifework — Level 23
Identification — Level 10
Stealth — Level 9
Needlework — Level 4
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.
Mana-Fuelled — Passive. Optionally, use mana in place of stamina to activate Knifework abilities.
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.
Shrill Perimeter — Create a perimeter wall of 20 foot radius, invisible to all but those adept in magicks. If an enemy crosses this perimeter, this spell releases the shriek of a banshee.
Warped Shield — Passive. If an enemy strikes you with a low-level melee weapon, Warp Shield automatically activates to open a portal that deflects this attack. You must not have any portals currently active. Uses mana on activation.
Stealth Attack — Passive. 50% boost to damage when unnoticed by enemy.
Stitch — Create a basic stitch in common fabrics. Ability scales on [CHA].
Active Effects:
Legacy of Sisyphus:
XP gain increased by +900%