Chapter 14: Subject of Whispers

SHADOW

It had been two very long weeks since Shadow had slain the Legends and earned his title. Long weeks, but not wholly without amusement.

The first five days had been the worst, as following Venom around until their contract officially expired had been an exercise in restraint. The {Defiler} had definitely been busy.

He had followed orders--technically--but the poor orphanage he had “visited” had only proven his title. Shadow had tried to scrub most of those sights and sounds from his memory, but doing such things was almost antithetical to his Path with all the skills and passives he had supplementing cognition. Truly, Venom’s Path was a mockery of what advancement should be. That the so-called gods hadn’t noticed or acted was further proof of their failings. They were so caught up in their own games that Shadow wondered how anyone could believe their “Grand Path” was anything but apathy. Common people were like sheep, he supposed, and sheep would do anything to avoid becoming a wolf’s dinner. They just didn’t realize the wolves were already their shepherds.

After that week, Shadow had been glad to go his own way. It gave him time to get used to the stares his new title garnered. By now he’d embraced them. A handful of times things went farther than mere looks, including a few challengers who thought to catch him off guard. They ended up being good practice for his [Shadow Twin]. Two had died before even realizing the Twin wasn’t corporeal. One realized just in time to glimpse two of Shadow’s daggers as they flew straight through his chest. Another two had turned into fun fights. He hadn’t even used as many skills when ambushing the Brightshield. He so rarely went toe-to-toe with anyone any more that it had been good practice, and his daggers had never been so well fed.

And then a unique opportunity presented itself. He still wasn’t sure how the envelope had appeared on his pillow that day. It was just there one afternoon, as if dropped from the ether, and none of his safeguards had been tripped or even disturbed as best he could tell. Within the envelope had been a smooth black disk marked only with a flourished “C,” and a letter. He’d known immediately what it meant, and the disbelief and excitement had nearly taken his breath away.

Christopher.

Being contacted by Christopher was a dream scenario, and no doubt another perk of the {Legendslayer} title. He used [Eidetic Memory] to see the letter again, even though he didn’t need to. He had memorized the words immediately, just prior to burning the original paper. Something he still regretted even if it was clearly needed. His focus lingered again on the most intriguing sentence: “I believe it will be as beneficial to you as your previous contract.”

Shadow didn’t know of anything as powerful as the {Legendslayer} Title. But it must exist. It was well known that Christopher was unable to lie, directly at least. It was widely debated whether that inability was because the other half of his famously half-giant lineage might secretly be fae, not human. Shadow had collected no fewer than fifteen sources weighing in on either side.

Not that it truly mattered. To be directly contacted by Christopher with an offer of a contract was not something he would ever miss.

So he headed to Rockmoor.

The city of Rockmoor would have been above average in size in any non-divine territory, but when considering that it was part of the Embrace’s domain, it was actually rather small. Supposedly it was a nice enough place during the day, not that Shadow would know. He always arrived at night, when the city flourished. The city streets were filled with fleeting glimpses of cloaked forms, their perfumes and colognes lingering long after their indecencies were absorbed by the darkness. Purple and blue lights encouraged and illuminated revelers and scammers alike, while domains of deeper darkness hid signs with directions to exactly where Shadow needed to go.

All in all, he loved the city’s feel.

Shadow thought nothing of going down back alleys while following the signs for Christopher. In the first one, he’d had to relieve a foolish level 30 pickpocket of his hand. The audacity was respectable, which was why Shadow had left the man slumped against the brick wall, bleeding instead of dead. He didn’t even need to use any stacks of [Insight]. The man would also serve as a lesson: Shadow was new to Rockmore but was not one to be trifled with. He was fairly sure that none of his original stalkers still remained, but his Perception wasn’t flawless, no matter how many skills and passives he had boosting it.

When they come, they’ll lose more than a hand.

The daggers hidden all over his body excitedly agreed, eager for more chances to fly and spill blood. Especially the biggest two at his sides. Yet they would need to wait. Shadow would not dare let them play in the domain of someone like Christopher.

The Agora was one of those places with two faces. One was for the public, where travelers could enjoy a quick bite before being on their way again. Where the bartenders poured stiff drinks to ease your burdens, and your tongue. Where budding adventurers could assemble excitedly before engagements, and then return to celebrate or mourn based on the outcome.

The Agora’s other face was much darker. Much more secure, though not necessarily hidden. It lurked just beyond curtains that were simply overlooked by anyone below tier 3. It twisted around the common room along a labyrinth of hallways and private rooms. Where brokers and contractors cracked deals rarely seen outside a capital city. Where anything could be bought, acquired, traded, or sold.

The domain of Christopher.

Shadow stepped into the bright lights of the bar, but he was bound for the darkness beyond it.

The common room had all the trappings of an overfilled tavern. Wooden furniture--mostly unbroken--a boisterous crowd, roaring with laughter as the usual savor of nearly-raw but well seasoned meat was served on basic metal plates and trays. Serving girls wearing slightly more than lingerie, usually sheer scarves that tantalized as much as they hid. An old oak bar spanning one whole side of the room was literally packed shoulder to shoulder. People even squeezed between stools, clamoring to catch any of the three bartenders’ attention.

Yet the instant Shadow raised the black disk with the script “C” upon it, he was greeted by a telepathic whisper.

“{Legendslayer} Shadow, those who called you are waiting in our most luxurious suite. If you’d please follow young Margot, who shall join you momentarily, you will find that all your needs will be met, to whatever satisfaction you may desire. Thank you for visiting The Agora.”

Shadow tried not to flinch at the intrusion. As a man with many skills related to mastering his own mind, he had always hated telepathy, despite its increasingly widespread adoption. He acknowledged its usefulness in facilitating secrecy. But his current lack of understanding about its full capabilities and limits made him wary; he sought to limit his interactions with it. He had long been searching for any item or skill that could diminish its intrusion, societal implications be damned. His [Abyssal Shroud] was the closest he’d gotten thus far.

He noticed a blonde human girl approaching with just enough eye contact that it was clear she was seeking him. Her appearance was as could be expected of The Agora: young, wide-eyed, curvy in the right places, and a smile that welcomed all. Shadow used [Identify] instinctively, knowing such appearances were malleable.

[Margot, Human, level 28, Prime Hostess]

It was a genuine surprise that the establishment had offered anyone below tier 3 the prime hostess Secondary Class. That she wasn’t even level 30 yet, and that she’d managed to replace her Primary Class with it, spoke to her devotion and certainty: this was her Path.

He took a step toward her and addressed her with quiet certainty. “Margot, I’m supposed to follow you.”

She inclined her head, only flashing surprise for the barest sliver of a moment, but Shadow caught it. Then she smiled like prey delighted to be caught. “Indeed you are, sir. This way, if you will.” She held out a pale and delicate hand, which Shadow did not take. Even though she was wearing gloves, he did not trust the touch of a prime hostess. He had read too many accounts of their abilities, and he could not afford to lose even a fraction of his sobriety.

“Lead the way.”

She gave a playful pout at the dismissal before turning, slowly, as thin strands of lace fell from hidden folds and danced suggestively across her hips with each step. Despite her display and the boisterous nature of the barroom, no heads turned at her passing, and the crowd always parted around her and Shadow.

She’s already mastered [Polite Passage] at level 28.

As Margot parted the crimson curtain that blocked sight of the rear hallway from the common room, she turned back with a wicked smile and asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you before we join the others?” Her hand lingered near the doorknob of a side room. “The Agora can be quite accommodating to guests as prominent as yourself.”

Shadow did not even entertain her insinuation and ignored it entirely. “How many others are there?”

Again, the pretty lips pouted. “Should you change your mind, the offer remains. As for your question, there are three others, and Christopher, of course.”

“Of course,” Shadow said, tamping down his nerves. With three others, the likelihood of knowing one of them was higher, but still unlikely. Another opportunity to network.

At the far end of the L-shaped hallway, Margot placed her palm upon an unremarkable brick wall, which slid silently to the side long enough to allow their passage. They then ascended a gently curving stair to a wide, clearly soundproofed room. Only once he stepped onto the final landing was Shadow able to hear the conversation within.

As Margot had said, four people occupied the expansive suite, with auras that filled it entirely. Three sat facing each other around a small table that held an ornate decanter. Within it sloshed a crimson liquid that perfectly matched the color of the grand upholstered chairs.

The figure facing the door was Christopher, who needed no introduction. His half-giant stature was unmistakable. Yet despite that massive frame, he wore impeccably tailored clothes of what was undoubtedly fashionable. The fabrics were sheer, tight, and clearly expensive. Even completely at ease he was still two heads taller than the other guests.

To his right sat an older-looking man with strikingly white, shaggy hair. It was pristine, as if no other color dared blemish it. His bushy sideburns and upwardly-curled mustaches left the imitation of a permanent smile. He wore white-and-gold patterned robes with hems and stitchings that glowed, though he left them showcased rather than covered.

He emanated power in a way that seemed to dull even Christopher’s pervasive presence. It was like being buried beneath leagues of seawater, with no hope of seeing the surface.

Shadow pushed through his discomfort and was surprised to see that on Christopher’s left sat Timetwister. She looked markedly younger now than when he’d seen her only two weeks ago, but such were the ways of chronomancers, even novices. Shadow was not displeased to see the healer again, as she had definitely been more competent than most of the others on that mission. He merely worried that her presence confirmed the interest of at least one god in whatever would be discussed.

I just hope her patron won’t attempt to recruit me again.

The final guest was another unknown to him. At half Shadow’s height, the female gnome with radiantly glowing purple hair stood facing away from all the chairs. She leaned against a railing that Shadow assumed must overlook the common room. Not that he recalled seeing such a space from the other side. But that was fairly normal with powerful magic, like what pervaded The Agora.

Christopher, Timetwister, and the shaggy man were all holding wine glasses, though only the first two seemed to be drinking. Shadow noticed there were no lip marks on Timetwister’s glass, and, more interestingly, the glass on the railing beside the gnome seemed untouched altogether.

Cautious even here, Shadow thought approvingly. I can work with people like that.

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Beside him, Margot cleared her throat. “Master Christopher, and distinguished guests, it is my honor to announce {Legendslayer} Shadow.” Without prompting, she turned around and descended the stairs.

Shadow stood awkwardly for a moment, mildly displeased that all the eyes had now turned to him. He would have liked a few more minutes to observe or at least gauge the tenor of the conversation. At the least, he wished to [Identify] everyone in the room, but he was a professional and would wait until introductions. He suspected all of them would be able to detect the skill anyways, and he wasn’t one to be uncouth.

His Path wouldn’t allow it anyway. While he always sought to know more, he could also feel when it was better to lie in wait. He lived in the thin margin between preparation and opportunity. These were strong people, and he knew their type well enough. He could fit in with predators.

He began with confidence, letting the silence stretch and allowing restraint to serve as his true introduction.

Shadow was surprised when it was the shaggy man, and not Christopher, that broke the silence, as it suggested that he would be the one taking the lead. The man’s voice was soothing, and its higher pitch easily inspired confidence. “Join us, Shadow, if you will.” He indicated the empty chairs beside him in the circle. “I promise to make it worth your time.”

Shadow found himself pulled in by the man’s words, but not naturally. He felt the pull of a skill, though his own [Discernment] could not help him identify which. He looked at the others in turn, gauging through their responses whether they’d recognized the manipulation, too. Christopher, their presumed host, maintained a perfectly blank face. He was neither worried nor surprised, which told Shadow the half-giant had known this was coming. Beside him, Timetwister had leaned forward, lifting her glass, yet she still had managed not to let the liquid lick her lips. The gnome had shifted slightly, putting one foot forward like a fencer, suddenly defensive. She clearly disliked the man’s skill as much as Shadow did. Then, with a movement almost too fast for even Shadow to catch, she emptied the contents of her glass over the balcony.

She’s properly paranoid at least. Still, it begs the question: if we’re in Christopher’s domain, why is he allowing this? Who is this man, and why haven’t I heard anything of him before?

Shadow suddenly wanted to know exactly what he’d walked into.

He made his way forward and placed his hand on the back of the chair, not yet willing to join their circle. It wasn’t lost on him that the leather upholstery was the softest he’d ever touched. Everything in the room spoke to luxury. An implied benefit of whatever job they were about to be offered.

“You have my attention. But I fear you also have me at a slight disadvantage, as you know my name but have not yet given yours.”

“Easily fixed,” the shaggy man said, taking a large drink and emptying his glass. “Do you care for wine, Shadow? Master Christopher truly has the best selection I’ve encountered outside of the Divine Capitals.” He lifted the decanter, refilling his glass first, then producing another matching glass from his own magical storage before filling it and pushing it toward Shadow.

Christopher inclined his head and spoke with a low, silky rumble. “The perks of being very selective, and well advised.”

Shadow, strangely, wanted to partake. It would be rude to deny our host, but--Oh. The shaggy man is using his skills again. Shadow tried to clear the shaggy man’s charming effect from his head by grounding himself in concrete details. The plushness of the leather beneath his fingertips. The tight woodgrain of the lacquered table. How his glass was now precisely as full as Timetwister’s and the shaggy man’s own refill.

That felt like an impressive display of control and finesse. Is every action a show for this man?

“Indeed,” the shaggy man added, gesturing towards Shadow’s glass, “You’ll never taste one finer.”

Shadow again felt himself swayed to take a sip. It would be a shame to let such reportedly phenomenal wine... Wait, no. Shadow managed to tear his eyes away from the drink, as anger began boiling up in his belly. Yet he controlled himself, and he caught the gnomish woman watching him closely. Taking his measure.

It seems she also recognizes how dangerous he is.

“Nor will you relax in finer seats,” the shaggy man continued. “Come sit, and let us discuss what brings us here today.”

The gnomish woman had moved away from the balcony, leaving her empty glass there, but not any nearer the circle of chairs. She was now standing by a bookcase, though she had yet to read a single title. “Are we all here then?” she asked with a voice far deeper than he’d expected. “Can we begin in earnest?”

As if to answer her question, Christopher beckoned her over. Only then did she finally take a chair. “We are indeed. So, allow me the honor of introducing you all, even if I only use your alias.” As Christopher spoke, introducing each member of the group in turn, Shadow used [Identify]. He was deeply curious what it would reveal.

[Christopher, Half-giant, level 118, Clandestine Broker]

The host was, as Shadow already knew, impressive. He tried not to balk at the half-giant’s level. He’d heard that Christopher was a prime example of a noncombat Path, but he hadn’t expected him to be halfway to tier 6. That made him the strongest mortal Shadow had ever met.

[Timetwister, Human, level 42, Insightful Seer]

{{Legendslayer}}

Thanks to his [Eidetic Memory], he knew that Timetwister had grown the same amount he had from their last job--but she had progressed no further since.

[Charlotte, Gnome, level 66, Shady Dealer]

{{Mistress of Plenty}}

It was initially odd that the woman used a normal name for her alias, but upon seeing her Class, Shadow was no longer surprised. Just as it didn’t bother him that he hadn’t heard of her. He didn’t see a single weapon on her body, but that wouldn’t normally mean anything. Except for her title. The only way to have that title was to get the blessing of the goddess Plenty, and for that she’d have to have never held a weapon. The goddess Plenty wouldn’t stand for it. She might specialize in acquisitions. The more Shadow studied her, the more right that felt.

Then it was Shadow’s turn. He felt two very different probing styles of [Identify], one that felt nearly textbook, with only a few subtle additions and tweaks. That obviously originated from Charlotte. The other, however, was overwhelmingly more refined and might not have even been [Identify]. He suspected this advanced of a skill would reveal anything he tried to hide, so he didn’t try. This must have come from the shaggy man, whose smile only grew once he was announced.

[Brightside, ?, level ? , ? ]

{{Lord}}

The man of mystery, whose alias was eerily reminiscent to the slain Legend. It had been a while since Shadow’s highly advanced [Identify] had been basically blanked. His fingernails all but dug into his knee as his Path balked at such an outright denial of information. So, the hard way it is.

Behind the mask of his smile, Shadow began prying into the man’s facade. First, [True Sight] revealed the man’s appearance and aura weren’t bluffs. Power radiated from him in a way that was clearly above tier 4. Unfortunately, the man’s robes glowed with such brilliance at this tier disparity that Shadow had to drop the skill before it blinded him. Next, he used [Pierce the Veil] targeting the man’s Status, specifically the blocks denying outside eyes. But even pumping extra effort and mana into it, all he got was a headache.

Given Christopher’s deference--in his own domain no less--how strong is this man? He clearly dealt in social skills, mental manipulation, and the like. Was he also capable in combat? Shadow wanted desperately to find out, but he shot down his daggers before they could begin asking to taste his blood.

The man called Brightside began to swish the wine in his glass. “I must apologize that I reveal so little, even to one with your Path, Shadow, but alas, my secrets are too valuable to just be given out.” He took a sip of his wine, smiling vaguely.

Shadow was not amused and instead went even more on guard. “I don’t like it when someone wants to hide all their cards but deals mine face-up.”

“We are only plausible partners at the moment, my inquisitive assassin. I’ve yet to read our futures together. And it would be foolish not to guard myself in such company.”

Shadow’s gaze turned to Timetwister, as the talk of reading futures sounded like something the woman had said once. She was more than a little obsessed with the idea of destiny, especially mapping out her own. It was no surprise she had moved to the edge of her seat. “Have you skill in prophecy?”

“Not in The Agora.”

The four words boomed out of Christopher with a nearly-divine certainty, diminishing none of their normal silky rumble. Shadow felt the words slide into the truth of their surroundings with an unpleasantness Shadow usually strove to avoid.

But, genuinely, Shadow didn’t mind this time. To prophesy was to call divine attention, and he didn’t want such attention anywhere near him ever again.

Brightside’s eyebrows rose playfully as his smile spread. “Of course, Master Christopher. We had not discussed before what skills I would or wouldn’t use. So please forgive my false step; breaking any of your rules was not my intent.”

The half-giant reclined back into his chair, lifting his wine glass again with one hand as a new bottle appeared in the other. He poured calmly, deliberately, still saying nothing as all eyes watched him. Shadow appreciated the growing tension around the table as Christopher kept his face neutral, making a show of reminding everyone that this was his domain.

As he stopped pouring and the bottle disappeared again, the half-giant inhaled the new wine’s bouquet. “You’re forgiven,” he said, sipping delicately. “Please, continue.”

The subtle tension left Brightside’s shoulders immediately, as he returned his attention to the rest of the circle. “I come with an opportunity that may prove as difficult as it will be rewarding. If successful, each of you will acquire more in one year than you’d have earned in ten. This is the kind of growth that could make your entire Path toward divinity swifter.”

“A bold claim,” the gnome began, “but how can one reward help all our Paths like that? I’m not a thief, he’s no dealer, and she...” She paused as her hand moved from Shadow’s direction toward Timetwister and hung there. “I don’t know what she even is.”

Brightside’s smile did not waver at all. “Firstly, I have employed them before,” he said, indicating Shadow and Timetwister, “and as their equipped titles can attest, I provided a substantial boost to their Paths.”

It was all Shadow could do to keep from growling. Brightside had been the mysterious contractor that provided the {Legendslayer} job? Is that why he chose this moniker? He pulled up the previous contract and saw that where the Employer entry had previously just displayed a “?”, it now showed “Brightside.” The reveal did not make Shadow happy. He’d been tolerant of the nameless, faceless, employer because the promised payout had been ridiculous. But to have the identity revealed this way made his Path scream. Combined with the man’s previous manipulation... if any more barriers went up, it wouldn’t matter what was offered. Shadow hated the way this man did business.

Yet he did not let himself scowl, and he did not pull his hood tighter over his face. He avoided using [Calm Emotions] considering the company he was in would likely sense it, but still managed to pry his fingers from the pits they’d been digging in his knee. This could still be a profitable contract. Especially with Christopher being involved.

“Secondly,” Brightside continued, “Given your title, I believe you’ll acknowledge that both of your recent, shall we say, connections into the realms of the Divine were facilitated by a much more familiar name. When anagramed.”

The gnomish woman tsked angrily. “Anagrams are bloody childish.”

“And uniquely suited to some of the finer points of our jobs, including infiltration,” Brightside said, twirling his mustache auspiciously. “Weren’t those two contracts exceptionally useful to your business?”

Charlotte stared daggers at the man. “And now, what, you think we’ll just overlook your casual misuse of charm skills because of a few pretty words, some past successes, and the promise of a ‘swifter’ Path?”

Brightside spread his arms wide, as if to encompass all gathered around the circle. “Nothing of the sort! I just thought those assembled here would be a bit more tolerant, a bit less squeamish about such things. At my level, it’s almost harder to turn off the charm than it is to use it. Master Christopher assured me--"

“Careful,” Christopher said.

Brightside nodded, lifting a hand as his smile never faltered. “I was merely calling your attention to the golden opportunities I presented each of you, that you each brilliantly grasped in the most excellent and proficient ways!”

“So then what is it you offer now?” Timetwister asked. “From the moment I entered this room, my [Foresight] has been a hazy blur. Since you began speaking, it has been entirely blackened out, leaving the future unreadable.”

Brightside’s face became starkly serious. “When you deal with the gods, my dear Timetwister, one leaves nothing to chance. One’s plans must be perfect.”

Shadow stood up. “I’m out.”

It was so sudden, all of the others actually showed surprise. Even Christopher.

“My dear Shadow,” the shaggy man tried to rebut, but Shadow cut him off.

“I’ve already had too many gods in my life. I won’t be involved with them again; I don’t care what you can offer.”

Brightside raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? It is precisely that caution and animosity that would provide you the biggest gain from this endeavor. Just hear me out before--"

“Nope,” Shadow interrupted again. He had been letting the man talk far too long, and his words had almost sounded good again. “There are some things even I don’t want to know. I wish you success, but in my experience, gods are irrational, spiteful, and vindictive. I’m no doubt offending one just by saying this, especially with her here,” he said, pointing at Timetwister, “but I’d likely offend more by going along with you. So I’m bowing out now. Divine shit isn’t in my Path. I will not be squashed like a bug.”

Shadow tuned the man out and, not wanting to seem rude to his actual host, bowed. “Master Christopher, I do apologize. It’s been an honor just being called to your presence.” He sighed. “Please, consider me again in the future if anything--anything else--should arise that you believe I’d fit.”

He waited just long enough to see the half-giant’s head nod. Then Shadow leapt over the balcony and disappeared from The Agora.

He didn’t care what happened to the rest of them. As far as he was concerned, he’d dodged a potentially lethal pitfall. He knew his Path, and he didn’t need any job so badly as to mix with gods. Never again.

Which was how Shadow found himself removed from the conversation and plans that would become the subject of whispers for centuries.