3 — The Three of Knaves

Before we go any further, you ought know a bit about Dragonmaw. It’s the largest city on the Crooked Spine Bastard Vomiting (which is what you get when you let orcs name a continent, of course), nestled right at the Bastard’s naval in the Sungate. It’s about two weeks south of Kalash by the salt road, and boy did the golden elves probably wish it had been further.

You see, even though this overcrowded town is packed in tighter than sea rations, nearly a quarter of the city is completely uninhabited—by the noble races, at least. That’s because when the orcs finally came down from the cauldron and chased the golden elves into the sea (some of them might have even had boats under ‘em), they unsheathed glow steel swords at four points in the city: once in the upper city, once in the middle city, and twice in the downs. Quick as spit, the elves were dead or gone. So fast, even, that their ghost dragon gods still twisted in the air above the city each night, looking for their lost kits among the bustle.

To this day, the Unsheathings still carry the glow-steel sickness. You don’t go deep into the unsheathings without powerful constitutional spells or paladins. Unless you’re an orc, who are immune to the sickness and the only ones who live in the unsheathings. You also don’t linger within them (or the undercity) without some serious muscle.

Which made my destination foolish on two counts. But I had to see for myself.

I made my way down from the heights, through Queen’s Reach, south past the caravan fields, and to the edge of the first unsheathing. Now, people might not make their homes in the burnt husks of the elven structures, but beasties and monsters aren’t quite so clever. The sickness takes them all, eventually. But first, it twists ‘em, drives ‘em mad. Master Hedwin once explained to me that the glow-steel sickness breaks down what makes you you. Your body forgets how it’s supposed to go together. The adventurer’s guild sends tin and bronze-ranked initiates to the outskirts to cut their teeth and cull any beasties that get the notion that people make for good eating.

That was the same reason I headed to the outskirts, on the lookout for a minor monster to try the card on. The cards manifest a little bit different for each soul seeker. I’d already had the three of dragons, which was a spell that could bolster my stamina and awareness. Ironically, using it was both exhausting and distracting. Go figure. But that would change (I hoped) as I became more in-tune with the suit of dragons, which now seemed slightly less of an insurmountable precipice.

The two of knaves, the blade, was a straightforward shimmer of shadow that keened the cutting edge of any weapon, making it beyond razor sharp. But, the enchantment dulled quickly if it encountered metal or really hardened defenses of any kind. It would be fantastic if I could get around to an enemy’s rear and hit where armor was thinnest. But having no friends, everyone I’ve ever fought focused solely on keeping their front towards me. It could also work on your hand, in a pinch. But honestly, knives are so practical, why would you not carry one?

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I wasn’t sure how the three of knaves, the shadow would work for me. The card dealt in deception and misdirection, so maybe it would let me sneak up on unsuspecting beasties and actually use the lower-suited two of knaves.

I trawled the outskirts, circling east and not daring to venture deeper. I finally found what I was looking for in the form of something I think used to be a cat, but had grown an extra set of claws and teeth. It’s fur was mostly fallen out on its left side, and weeping sores dripped ichor on the cobbles. It had something clutched in its mouth. A rodent, I assumed at first. But when it turned its head, I realized two things at once. The first was that some poor lady had lost her dog. The second, was that this cat was much bigger than I initially realized.

I swallowed, stepping lightly. I’d honestly be doing the city a public service, but this suddenly seemed like a very bad idea. At least the cat wasn’t wearing armor. With my left hand, I fanned out the Deck of Wills and connected immediately with the two of knaves. A black edge gleamed on my knife, dripping shadow on the cobbles.

I saw the cat’s ears twitch, and I froze. It whipped its head around and stared at me, droppings its prize to hiss and spit. Its back arched, and it’s tail puffed out at least three times the size. Hell, so much for surprise.

I dashed at the little beastie as I pushed my will into the three of knaves. The cards spun around me, and I felt my energy drain into the deck. But I felt no different and certainly saw no change. The cat pounced, and I ducked, but needn’t have bothered.

The feline soared through the air, claws and teeth flashing—at a Darcent-shaped shadow mid stride behind me. It didn’t move. It just hung in the air. But it fascinated the cat, who had turned its furry behind toward me. Amazing. A shadow facsimile to deceive others. The possibilities were endless, but right now I was only interested in one. I angled my knife up and prepared to strike down.

Before I could slam my knife home, my focus on the deck wavered, my connection with the three of knaves snapped, and the shadow disappeared. The thing about cats, is that they are made with equal parts lightning and hatred for humanity. This one, being no different, immediately turned and latched on to my knife arm with claws and teeth.

I shouted, trying to shake the little bastard loose as it clawed and bit at my arm, drawing blood and turning my sleeve to so much black ribbon. I punched it, but it continued its assault. Desperate, I flooded my will into the two of dragons, the thirst, briefly calling on constitution above my limit, but calling three cards in such quick succession made my head hurt almost as much as my arm.

I shook frantically, spinning in circles and eventually tripping over loose detritus. As soon as I hit the cobbles, the cat was off and yowling as it ran back into the unsheathing.

I don’t know what part of me thought that had been a good idea. Punching above my weight class seemed to include feral, mutated cats. Go. Figure. Keep to cheating gullible buggers out of their silver.