40 (II)
Stealth
Knife Proficiency > 38
Grappling Proficiency > 48
Intimidation > 45
Stealth > 32
Acting > 11
Shiv felt like an idiot. In his defense, though, he was still suffering from a constant, searing pain in his left arm. A pain that lingered while he was a Revenant and even after a few resurrections. A scar was imprinted on his arm—a scar that resembled the faces of three screaming children, as if the whole pain thing wasn’t bad enough.
At least it feels like it’s getting better, Shiv thought. He couldn’t even move his left hand earlier. Now, he was capable of using it to shape spells again. It still hurt like a bastard, but pain he was used to.
It took him the better part of two hours to finally make his way out of the maintenance tunnels in the building. He figured out he was in some kind of long-term cargo storage or impound. Most of the containers here were covered in a thick layer of dust. The absence of rats also told him there were likely no foodstuffs to consume either.
Umbral Shadowalker kept him from being noticed immediately when the hunting parties came. Confriga seemed to have at least an idea of where Shiv got blasted off to. But though the stolen skill kept him covered for a while, it was still just Adept-Tier, and more than a few of his adversaries had his Stealth beat by their Awareness. Unfortunately for them, finding Shiv was the easy part of the job. And he adapted to his enemies as well. After slaughtering the first group that found him, he ended up taking on a new Perfect Semblance and applying what he liked to call aggressive stealthtactics to the situation. Mostly, he would lure several groups between containers by misdirecting them, and while they were confused or searching, he would slam the containers together. Then, he would take on a new Perfect Semblance to keep things confusing, and then repeat the process with the survivors.
It worked out pretty great, all things considered. Really spiked his Acting and Stealth. But those skills paled before Intimidation—which was quickly becoming a double-edged sword for Shiv. It made people stop, made their morale break, and damaged their focus when Shiv was around, but it also made them go into shock.
Like what this goblin was doing.
Shiv gave her a moment to rinse out the accident staining her pants while he burned the fire mage leading her team, taking him as a new Perfect Semblance. Hugo Vetti. And… oh, this is useful. I’ve been looking for a skill like this.
Steal Initiate-Tier Skill [1/2] (Polyglot)
Polyglot 25 (Initiate)
A searing sensation rushed through Shiv’s mind as he recalled years spent learning various languages—mostly towards the end of seducing women and men at various bars or reading diaries looted off enemy soldiers across various battlefields. As a result, Shiv’s language capabilities increased. Not substantially. The fire mage wasn’t a serious learner, but he was a good bit above illiteracy.
As the flames reshaped Shiv’s body, he found himself in the guise of the fire mage. Thankfully, this one was wearing heavy armor, but his left arm still looked a bit damaged. It was strange, like Perfect Semblance could mask everything about his original self—but it had to keep some part of his injuries.
Guessing the wound might be soul-deep. Broken Moon, I’m not letting that Gate Lord asshole hit me with a whip again. Even if it does spike my Vitality Drain and Revenant. If he got me in the head… I don’t know, maybe I'd be dead for good.
Shiv noticed the goblin staring at him. Her greaves were back on, and she was back on her very shaky
feet. She was a short figure, even for a goblin. A thickly-coiled ponytail extended out from a port built into her open-faced helmet. The rest of her armor was decent quality steel, but to Shiv she might as well have been wearing glass. Hells, she might as well be made of glass.He only encountered one Master-Tier enemy in this place so far, and she was a Master-Tier at Awareness and Magical Resistance, but not Toughness. As a result, she managed to track him down pretty quickly after he ambushed and slaughtered a group of wolf-headed dimensionals. Her reward for being so astute was Shiv kicking her through a container and driving a bone dagger through her eye.
Adamantine could sink through Adept-Tier flesh pretty smoothly.
“So…” the goblin said, swallowing constantly. She looked him up and down now that he was pretending to be her former comrade. He wondered if that was going to be an issue. “I—I, uh—”
“I’m thinking,” Shiv said, watching her face.
She nodded hard. “Sure! Take as long as you need.”
Yeah, sparing this one was a good idea. I was trying to find an opportunity to get myself a hostage-guide. I might be able to read some of the words now, but I still need to know my way around this place.
“What’s your name?” Shiv started.
“Siggy,” she said. “No last name.”
“Well. Siggy. We are both in a predicament. I think you understand that.”
“I won’t tell anyone—”
He stared flatly at her. “Really?”
She fell silent. “Are you gonna to kill me?”
“Not sure about that yet. You a slaver?”
“Not exactly?”
“That doesn’t sound like a no, Siggy.”
“I just do some transportation jobs sometimes. It’s business.”
“Well. That makes killing you people pleasure for me.” Shiv growled. Siggy shivered. “You wanna know something? This mess started because you people were bastards. I hate it. I hate looking at the slaves, I hate what you’re doing and who you are.”
“I was just trying to make some mithril, man,” Siggy whimpered. “I was gonna be done soon.”
“Yeah. And the slaves?”
“I—” Siggy was shaking. Shiv could almost feel the Intimidation bleeding out of his body, like a tangible aura.
Don’t know what that’s going to be like when it becomes Adept. But I am looking forward to it.
“You’re scum,” Shiv said simply. His rage flattened to his default state—which was pretty hateful when it came to slavers. “But lucky for you, I got an offer for you. Right now, I can feel your heart. I am a Biomancer—and not a very good one. But plenty good at killing. Do you understand?”
It took her a second, but she nodded. “Y-yes?”
“Alright. If something goes wrong, your heart might suddenly fail. To avoid that, you’re going to lead me out of this place and take me to the Yellowstone Republic’s Consulate.”
“The Republic Consulate? Huh? Why?”
“Because I want to go there,” Shiv said. “And asking more questions will result in heart failure.”
Her mouth slammed shut. She nodded. “I’ll get you there immediately. On the double. I know—I know the receptionist there. I got good—”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Good. Better. You stay close to me. You lead me out. And at the end… you might just live. I don’t much like your kind, but I think I’ve dealt enough sloppy death out for today. To too many people who didn’t deserve it either.” Shiv thought back to his brawl with 811 and sighed. “So. You can make yourself a very lucky Pathbearer, and I can find it in myself to offer a little mercy. Does that sound good?”
“It sounds… like the best thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” Siggy choked out.
“Alright, then, Siggy. Get me out of here. And remember—every beat of your heart depends on it.” A tear fell from her eye. Shiv sighed. “We move once you’re done crying.”
Siggy nodded—and then immediately started bawling out of stress and terror.
Intimidation > 46
***
I probably should have taken a guide-hostage earlier, Shiv thought as the elevator ascended. He held his ribs and maintained a traumatized look, trying to act the part of a Pathbearer that had witnessed unspeakable horrors rather than the one that enacted them. Beside him, Siggy wasn’t acting. She was sniffled and shaking. Someone had given her a blanket as they got through the checkpoint. She did the bulk of the speaking, telling the small group of Pathbearers and dimensionals guarding the elevator about the slaughter they just survived—she also added that the spy was wounded, but they needed more manpower.
And so, as a small army of hunters descended, Shiv and his new “friend” went up. She glanced at him every few seconds. Her heart was constantly thundering, and her body was reacting in all kinds of complex ways he didn’t fully understand. Ekkihurst said stuff about cortisol and adrenaline and hormones. Lots of chemicals. Lots of reactions. Shiv needed to review those chapters of the Odes more if he wanted to fully grasp all the little details. However, the most important one was how vulnerable a person’s heart was, and right then, Siggy understood that lesson better than Shiv.
As the doors opened, a familiar figure approached. Shiv tensed as he thought he was looking at Confriga, only to notice that they had a lighter skin tone and far fewer head tentacles. Also, they were smaller than the Gate Lord, and led an accompaniment of automata with them.
“Well met,” the demonic being said. This one sounded female, and her vertical lips barely moved as she spoke. “I have received reports of the spy being contained? Is this true?”
Shiv just stared. He prodded Siggy from behind.
“Ah! Y-yeah! B-but it’s bad down there. He’s—we’re the only two survivors across several floors. He’s killed everyone else. And he is injured. The others are going after him but—”
“I understand.” The demon nodded. “You have served the Gate Lord and your contracts well.” She looked at their bloody, miserable forms and waved for the automata to enter the elevator. The bots were all holding huge crystal staffs in one hand and carrying strange torches in the other. “Go see treatment, if you require it. Should the spy be captured, I will ensure bonuses for both of you.”
“T-thanks,” Siggy said. Again, it wasn’t hard for her to fake trauma and terror. Not when the source of both was standing just beside her.
As they got off, the demon and her fire magi team got on. She eyed Shiv one final time as he made for the front door with Siggy, and he felt—
Foreshadowing: She was but twelve years old when she watched High Captain Confriga murder her clutch brother. It was an absurd thing to witness—a duel between a mature warrior in Lord Scorn’s army and a boy who only recently stopped being a tadpole.
Their siress had begged, but Confriga wouldn’t accept it. The boy had dirtied his cape. And so the boy had to be punished. Murder was illegal, and peasants weren’t allowed to duel. So her clutch brother was marked as an ascended noble and loaned a blade.
The fight lasted less than a second. The torture went on considerably longer.
After the fight was over, Confriga took her brother as an effigy—she wasn’t even allowed to keep his body.
That had been three full centuries ago. Now, she was finally close. After burning her old name, her old identity, she was finally close…
Foreshadowing > 21
“The world is just full of godsdamned bullshit,” Shiv mumbled, chuckling.
“What?” Siggy said.
“Nothing. Consulate. Walk. Good job.”
The goblin nodded. And did as he asked.
The streets and bridges were devoid of people now. Floating eyes drifted above—dimensionals that projected their mind magic at various people and corners, scanning for anything out of place. As one turned to gaze upon them, Shiv tensed. He had a Mind Shield, but Siggy—
She held up a stack of bills, waving it. The floating eye blinked and then looked away.
“What’s that?” Shiv asked.
“Bribery,” Siggy said. “I know some of them. That one's name is Floats On Honestly. They’re kind of a greasy shitbag but… they’re greedy. I smuggle some contraband through the gate sometimes, and I give them a cut. They probably think I stole something from a container or whatever.”
Shiv grunted a laugh. “Nice job. You’re really looking out for your heart.”
“Doing my best,” Siggy whimpered.
The Yellowstone Republic Consulate turned out to be pretty far away. After a good deal more walking and a few tense words exchanged with a Pathbearer team that recognized Siggy, Shiv found himself staring at a large building in the shape of a black oval. It had a chain connecting its summit to the gray sun floating at the center of the realm as well. Shiv still didn’t know what that was all about.
As Siggy let him inside, they passed through a series of wards, and a brief alarm went off. An armored guard approached. Shiv balled his fists—only to relax as the guard let out a dismissive snort.
“Siggy? What are you doing here?”
“Mira,” was all Siggy said.
“Really? You want to sell her some Drift now?”
“Yeah. Easier to do when half the city’s on lockdown and there’s no one watching.”
The guard sighed. And then looked at Shiv. “Why’s he with you this time?”
“Debt. Drinking. Whores.” Siggy shrugged.
The guard laughed. “Now there’s an old song. Well. Welcome to the business.”
Shiv didn’t quite understand what just happened. As Siggy got them into a new elevator, the guard swiped a crystal of some kind over the controls and tapped an icon. A few seconds later, they were going up.
“What just happened?” Shiv asked. “What’s Drift?”
“Serious?” Siggy asked.
“Yeah? What is it?”
“A drug. Makes you have really nice dreams.”
“You’re a godsdamned drug dealer too?” Shiv hissed. “Is there anything terrible you don’t do?’
Siggy stared at him. “You… tore a bunch of people apart. Mangled them… This bothers you? Some drugs?”
Shiv stared at her. “Yeah. It kind of does. I’ve seen what that does to people. Especially the ones who don’t have much to begin with.” The lower streets of Blackedge held more dangers than the obvious. There were dealers everywhere. And there were the poor and vulnerable. “First person I ever killed was a dealer. He was a goblin too.”
Siggy started shaking again. She kept shaking all the way to the front doors of the consulate.
As they entered, Shiv found himself staring into a luxurious space drenched in pleasant flavors, with nice and warm floorboards, and a row of cushioned seats for people to use while waiting. A single woman manned reception, and Shiv noticed she had a bit of Psychomancy—about comparable to his own. She wore a navy blue hat to go with her extremely form-fitting dress. It suited her dark, auburn hair, sapphire eyes, and red lips well.
“Good afternoon, but I’m afraid—Siggy?” the secretary blinked.
“Hey, Mira,” Siggy said, swallowing. “Listen—”
Shiv looked around. He didn’t see anything or anyone. No other mana fields either. He was tired of this stealth shit too. He reached across the desk and snatched the secretary off her feet. He clamped his hand around her mouth as she tried to scream and snarled for Siggy to watch the door—and mind her heart if she tried to run.
“Listen,” Shiv said. “I have an appointment with Master-Advisor Maxwell Oldsmith. I’m probably not on the calendar—but I’m about to be. Either you put me on, or I’ll find a way to do it myself. Do you understand?” Mira’s eyes widened in absolute terror, but she nodded quickly. “Good. I don’t think you’re an Adept in Toughness—maybe not even Initiate. Scream, resist, run, or use your mind magic on me, and I’ll pull your head off and show you your body from a new angle before you die? Got it?”
He didn’t actually mean that with her. As far as he knew, the secretary didn’t do anything that deserved death. But he needed her quiet and compliant until he got what he wanted, and right now, Intimidation was his best tool.
It was also… too good of a tool.
Mira blinked twice and then, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Shiv blinked. The secretary was out cold.
“Oh, shit, oh felling shit, oh tainted felling shit!” Siggy said, clutching her head. “Is she dead? Did you kill her? Is she—”
“She just passed out,” Shiv snapped. “She’ll be fine.”
And then, from around the corner, a voice came. A voice Shiv recognized as the automaton that was beating the child slave earlier. “Mira? Mira? Did the new servant arrive? Has this one brought the right pair of gloves this time?”
Shiv growled as red crept around the corners of his vision. “But the Master-Advisor won’t be.” He picked Mira up and advanced with her like she was a shield. As he dipped her shoulder around the corner, he heard the Master-Advisor speak again. “Ah. Mira. There you are! Wait, Mira?”
Shiv pulled the secretary away from the corner and waited. He listened to the sounds of the Master-Advisor’s limbs whirring as he approached. No one in the consulate today, it seems. Probably somewhere else because of the lockdown. Looks like I finally caught another lucky break.
“Mira—”
Shiv grabbed the automaton by the head as soon as they appeared. The machine tried to struggle, so Shiv lightly bounced their head off the wall once and called for Siggy to catch. He chucked Mira at her, and he heard both women go down in a heap.
“What is the meaning—” Master-Advisor Maxwell Oldsmith stopped talking as Shiv dismissed his Perfect Semblance. Shiv saw his skull-helmet reflected in the automaton’s visor. “O-oh, B-broken M-m-m—”
“Hello, Oldsmith,” Shiv said. “We met earlier. But you might not remember me. Not with this face. But you were beating a child earlier. He’s dead now. And unless I’m very, very satisfied with the conversation we’re about to have, you will be too.”
Intimidation > 47