Stepping Up, Draft 1, CH 44 (Patreon)

The woman behind the table looked at the items Tibs’s team placed on it with bored disinterest, setting the items with an essence weave to one side, the rest to the other. Her element was fire, but Tibs couldn’t tell what kind of adventurer she was by the way she dressed. Many of the people who sat where she did today looked like sorcerers, but she reminded Tibs more of an office worker from the guild building than anyone interested in adventuring.

The items she set aside were pieces of armor, the usual amulet, which was the most common element-related loot now, a sword, a quiver that Mez had studied before deciding he wasn’t interested in. They’d reached the point where nothing with essence Sto had as loot helped them. From that. Each got four silver and six copper coins.

In the normal category were the set of clothing, a lot of meat and vegetables. Sto had already incorporated the ones Jackal brought him. Those were destined for the inn. Even if Kroseph’s father couldn’t afford all of it, it was home for them. The few pieces of armor that weren’t woven with essence were destined for Darran, even if the merchant with stalls next to the dungeon tried to convince them to unburden themselves by selling them immediately.

Jackal asked about prices and walked away. They weren’t significant enough to bother with the chance of antagonizing their primary provider. Darran gave them good coins for them, although he had no interest in the set of clothing. Nobles didn’t frequent his shop. That went to a tailor. The one who had refused their protection tried to get them to sell the set to her, but she couldn’t match the coins the other tailor had available.

After that, they went to the inn where, as part of paying for the ingredients they brought, Kroseph’s family cooked them the best meal Tibs had eaten in his life.

* * * * *

“I know you’re responsible for this,” Harry growled, waving papers with words on them too fast for Tibs to even attempt to decipher them. “All this fighting my guards have been reporting, you are arranging it.”

“You told me to stop the thieves,” Tibs replied.

“You’re lying. I told you to stop one thief, which you haven’t done.”

“I’ve forced them to slow down. They’re good.” Not only couldn’t they get into as many nobles’ houses without the eye that let them see the essence, but since they were determined to make Tibs’s life more difficult, they had even less time for easier targets.

“If you weren’t wasting your time with these fights, you’d be able to stop them.”

Tibs picked his words carefully. Not because he was lying, but because Harry’s temper was hot enough he didn’t need to end up in a cell just for angering him.

“Those new thieves have been able to work around the guards in the city, Harry. A lot of the merchants have suffered, so I asked other Runners to help protect them. We can’t throw them in cells, and if we try to hand them over to guards, they just want to arrest us too for the fight.”

“Fighting isn’t allowed off the training field,” the guard leader said through gritted teeth.

“Are you now allowing robbery in the town?”

Harry glared at Tibs.

“Then I think the fighting is the lesser of two wrong things.”

“Rogue,” Harry cursed.

“When you told me I could train, you said not to get caught. I’m applying that to this too.”

“It doesn’t make it better,” Harry growled.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better, Harry,” Tibs snapped. “I’m trying to make it better for the merchants, because I, and all Runners in town, need them for supplies and Sebastian knows that.”

“My brother has nothing to do with what’s going on,” Harry replied in a tone that sounded like he wished he did. “I’ve questioned him about it.”

“He’s lying to you!”

“He can’t!”

Tibs bit back his own snarl. There was so much he knew to differ from what the guild believed to be true it was infuriating not being able to tell them.

He let out a breath. “Harry. We haven’t started any of those fights.”

The guard leader rolled his eyes.

“I’m not lying.”

“But you’re not asking your Runners if they did start them, are you?”

Tibs smiled. “I find it wise not to peer too closely into what other people do. I leave that to the Darkness and Light users.”

“Light preserve me if you were a darkness rogue.”

Tibs kept his face impassive. This was one situation where he counted on Harry being set in his belief. Tibs had water as his element. It had been established with his audience. No one in the guild would think to question that, since it was unheard of for anyone to have more than one element.

“I’m going to tell them not to start any fights, Harry. But until your guards can stop the assaults on the merchants, I’m not going to have the Runners stop. If you catch some when those fights are happening, you’re welcome to put them in a cell.”

“I will,” Harry stated. “And the instant they tell me you ordered them to fight, I’m throwing you in there along with them.”

Tibs wasn’t worried. He’d never said that. He’d always worded everything in terms of protecting the merchants, not fighting the thieves and saboteurs, because he knew how Harry’s detection of lies worked.

“Get out of here,” the guard leader said in disgust.

Outside the building, Jackal fell into steps with him. “I’m not noticing any missing pieces.”

“Harry wouldn’t do that.”

“I hear light essence can burn stuff, so you never know.”

“That’s fire,” Tibs replied. “Did you know Harry has no secrets?”

The fighter shrugged. “I didn’t meet him until I was here. All I ever had were stories of how he betrayed my family in favor of the guild. But with light being his essence, I’d think it’d be hard for him to keep secrets.”

“Maybe I’m just not strong enough to see them. I’ll ask Khumdar.”

“You think it’s a good idea to have him get closed to Knuckles?”

“He already has, I’m sure of it.” He paused. “Two alleys ahead, on the left.”

“Saw them. You think they’ll try something?”

The man and woman leaning at the entrance and who did everything but look in Tibs and Jackal’s direction wore worn leathers, the kind runners did after a few runs without upgrades. Tibs lot like that now, so they could pass as Runners, especially with the rougher convicts, but Tibs knew they weren’t. Since the attacks on the merchant escalated, he met with all of them so he would recognize them.

“This is more public than any of the other attacks.” Tibs pushed his sense as far as he could, but he couldn’t reach them yet. They wouldn’t have essence, but he wanted to be sure. At the same time, he studied his surroundings. “They’re alone.”

“My father’s going to reach a point where he isn’t going to care how visual things are, so long as they aren’t connected to him. If he can have you killed, the Runners are going to be at a serious disadvantage.”

Tibs rolled his eyes. “You can give them instructions better than I can. You should be the one doing it.”

Jackal shook his head. “Tibs, this isn’t about who gives the orders. If that was it, Don would have taken over by now. Without you, the others are going to stop. Seeing you standing up to my father and his people is why they’re all with you.”

“I’m not doing anything special.”

Jackal chuckles. “I would love for Knuckles to be here and find out if you realize you’re lying.”

“I’m not. Anyone who can see and who cares about this town would do something about what Sebastian is doing.”

“Knuckles isn’t.”

Tibs sighed in exasperation. “Harry’s blinded by his light.”

The two thugs watched them pass by, this time not bothering to hide their glaring.

“I should go around and take them by surprise,” Jackal said.

“No. We don’t start any fights. That’s how we keep out of the cells.”

“That is just no fun,” Jackal sighed. “Let’s go eat.”

* * * * *

“Don first again,” Mez commented as they looked at the posted schedule.

“His coin to waste,” Jackal replied.

“We’re low on the list again,” Carina said and looked at Tibs. “You think it’s still because of you?”

He shook his head. “Tirania isn’t like that. The first time was to tell me she understood. Now it’s just randomness.”

“It’s more time to train,” Jackal said.

“But who do we train with?” Carina asked. “You might have noticed that when we lost Pyan and her team, it became tough to get people to train with us.”

“Could we not ask some of the conscripts?” Khumdar asked. “Many of them are eager for fights.”

“And at this point,” Jackal said, “I’d like to put myself up against one of them.”

“You’re still going to be stronger,” Mez said. “I don’t know if any of them have risked the second floor yet.”

“But as hardened criminals, they are more vicious fighters.”

“Do you think Quigly would like to train with us?” Carina asked. “We could use that to give him and his team pointers on how to handle the second floor when they get to it.”

“How about you ask him, Tibs?” Jackal said.

“He’s a fighter like you,” Tibs replied.

“But you already helped him with Don.”

“Doing one nice thing doesn’t mean someone’s going to like me,” Tibs said.

“Why isn’t Knuckles ever around when I need him to catch you lying?” Jackal asked.

* * * * *

Quigly’s team looked menacing, standing before Tibs and his friend on the training field. Quigly had quickly accepted the help, but the rest looked like they weren’t happy to be here.

“I want to make sure of one thing,” Quigly said. “This is about helping us, not some need for you to prove you’re so much tougher than we are.”

“With all due respect to you and your team, Quig,” Jackals said.

“Call me that again and this is going to turn nasty.”

Jackal grinned and opened his mouth.

“Do I need to kick you again?” Tibs asked, and Jackal closed it, taking a step away. “Jackal like nasty fights, but he isn’t always smart in how he gets them.”

“Hey,” Jackal protested. “I’m never smart.”

“Is he for real?” the woman to Quigly’s left asked. She had leather armor on her left arm and right calf, pieces she’d found in the dungeon. The rest were a mix of clothing of good enough quality Tibs thought they were also from the dungeon.

He looked over everyone three men and two women, and they each had something that could have come from the dungeon. Tibs would have to ask if Sto was giving out more clothing on the first floor. They couldn’t all have done that many runs since they’d arrived.

“He is,” Carina answered. “Every team needs an idiot, and no one else wanted the role.”

“And he’s your team leader.” The woman asked suspiciously.

“Not willingly,” Jackal said. “I was tortured into the position.”

“How the—”

“Enough,” Quigly said. “It’s something of an act with him and his team. The goofy idiot everyone underestimates. The team that doesn’t quite take anything seriously enough.”

“Okay,” Jackal said, “That’s just hurtful. No one underestimates me. Do they Tibs?”

Tibs didn’t answer, watching the fighter before him. The man was observing them, but not letting the antics distract him. Not enough to say he hadn’t lied with he told them why he was here, but enough for Tibs to decide not to underestimate him.

“Tibs?” Jackal asked, sounding worried. “I need my confidence boosted here.”

Tibs shook his head.

“Okay then, onto the main event,” Jackal said, the switch causing the woman and a man Tibs thought was the sorcerer, even if he had leather armor over his left arm, to stare at him. “I’m Jackal. You all know Tibs. If you don’t, shame on you. That’s Khumdar, Mez, and Carina. Quigly, if you’d make the introductions.”

“I’m Quigly, warrior.”

“The guild,” Mez began.

“I really don’t care what those people want to call us,” the warrior replied. “I’ve fought a king. I get to decide what I am.” The confidence with which Quigly said it and the faint glow that accompanied the words led Tibs to think he was saying the truth. “That is Ma-Nim,” he indicated the woman who had questions Jackal’s leadership, “another fighter. Next to her is Stabby, archer.”

“Stabby?” Jackal asked, barely containing a grin. The archer nodded but said nothing. “Who names their son Stabby? My father hates me and he saddled me with something better than that.” He looked at the archer expectantly.

“Stabs doesn’t say much, so don’t bother waiting for an explanation.” Quigly pointed to the woman to his right. “Jabba is an assassin, and on her right is Ren, War Mage. Don’t ask, as far as I know, he didn’t even know magic was a thing until he had to pick one of the classes the guild wants to force us into.”

The man grins. “If I’m going to kill people. I want to be it as easily as I can.”

“You’re not going to get to kill anyone here,” Mez said, tone hard.

“That’s okay. I’m a patient man,” Ren replied with a smile Tibs didn’t like.

“Ground rules,” Quigly began.

“I think you don’t know how this goes,” Jackal said.

“Ground rules,” the warrior replied, eyes fixed on the fighter. Jackal’s hands slowly closed into fists, but he nodded. “Any of you do something that normal people can do, and this is going to end badly. Light Fingers said training for the dungeon, not getting our asses handed to us. We’re not here for your entertainment. Is that clear?”

“Is it,” Jackal said, words clipped. “No essence except for the sorcerers. Yours tries anything untoward, and Carina will do more than hand what’s left of his ass to you. Is that clear?”

“It is,” Quigly replied with a chuckle. “How about you and me take this training to the side, so no other than you gets hurt?”

“Pair up,” Jackal said. “Don’t let the Omegas try to intimidate you.”

“Lady Ma-Nim,” Khumdar bowed to her. “If you would do me the honor of sparing with me.” She eyed him and his staff, then nodded.

Jabba stepped before Tibs, looking down at him while the archers moved to the area with targets and Carina escorted the war mage to an open space.

“So you’re Light Fingers.”

“And you’re Jabba.”

The woman reached for Tibs and he stepped out of the way, then under the next attempt at grabbing him. When Tibs stopped moving, he was close to her, knife pressed where a man’s most precious part would be.

Jabbas smiled. “I don’t have a weapon, yet.”

“So?” Tibs asked.

“Wouldn’t it be more fair of you to fight without one?”

“If I cared about fair, I wouldn’t be a rogue.” Tibs stepped away, watching for sudden movement.

“Too small for real weapons?” the woman asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I haven’t gotten much training with a sword yet and Quigly said no essence.”

She raised an eyebrow. So, after looking to make sure the warrior was busy, Tibs made a sword out of ice. Again, it had a jagged edge.

“That’s…” Jabba trailed off. “I didn’t know magic let you make things.”

“This is essence; not magic.”

The woman rolled his eyes. “What’s the difference?”

Tibs went to answer and stopped. “I don’t know.” He frowned. Had he never asked that question? “My teacher always calls this using essence, and the few times he referred to magic, it was in relation to what sorcerers did.”

“Ice isn’t that hard. It’s not going to be a good weapon.”

“It’s not ice, it’s essence. It’s as hard as I want it to be. I cut through rat, Ratlings, Bunnylings, and golems with it.”

“Ratlings?”

“They’re like the rats, but bigger, stand on two feet and use weapons. They’re on the second floor.”

“So the Bunnylings are like that, but for the rabbits. Still made of stone?”

Tibs nodded. “Everything’s made of stone. I don’t think the dungeon can do anything else.” Something else he realized he never asked.

“Alright. That’s good to know. Thanks for the information. Now, how about you put the sword away, or however you get rid of it and lent me a knife so we can have a proper fight?”

Tibs absorbed the essence, and the sword melted back into his hand. “I’m going to keep the knives.” He stepped back and crouched.

Jabba crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you want this to be a fair fight?”

Tibs smiled. “You’re a lot bigger than I am. I think that makes it fair enough. Don’t you?”

She smiled and crouched, too. “I like you, Light Fingers. But I’m not going to be any easier on you.”

“My name is Tibs,” he replied, “and until you start calling me that, you can expect to get cut.”

Jabba’s smile turned into a feral grin.

* * * * *

Tibs limped into Tirania’s office, and she raised an eyebrow at his state. He had a black eye, his lip was cut, and had only stopped bleeding as the guard had escorted him into the guild house. On top of the limp, of the injuries she couldn’t see, he had a sprained wrist, sore shoulder from having been dislocated, and at least three cracked ribs.

“Training,” he told her, motioning for a seat.

She nodded, and he carefully sat. He didn’t dare wrap his injuries in his essence while a cleric could pass him. He didn’t know if they could sense how it accelerated his healing.

“Do you want me to call you a cleric?”

“No, I’ll rest and one of them can heal me if I’m not done before I go in the dungeon.”

She smiled. “Then you might want to let me get you a cleric. The dungeon closed its door a few minutes ago. It’s going to graduate.”

Tibs nodded. If Sto was graduating, it meant it was time for him to prepare for his trip to the purity dungeon. Being in top form would be to his advantage. Tirania took the messaging crystal from her desk and Tibs sense it and the room. There were a lot of essences in the walls. The seven he had, as well as many others. He was confident some were nothing more than triggers, probably to alarms, but others were too complex for that. The desk itself had so many essences in such tight concentration Tibs thought it might be a construct of some sort.

As she placed the crystal back in, the door opened and a young cleric entered. The man placed a hand on Tibs’s shoulder and at once, all pain vanished. When the cleric left, Tibs felt as if he’d just gotten out of bed.

Tirania took a bracelet with a yellow gem on it out of a different drawer. “I know you don’t like having your status acknowledged, which is why I’m doing this here.”

“That’s the bracelet we get so we can leave the town.”

“Yes. And when the dungeon is ready for Runners again, it will turn red. But unlike those that will be assigned to anyone else how has earned the right to leave, this one till not turn black. It will turn green.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that instead of the guild paying a reward for your body, we will only do so for your safe and unarmed return.”

Tibs wanted to protest, but he needed to keep in mind he was heading to a dungeon. How long would it take him to go through all that was needed to get his audience? Carina said she had a way to get him into the dungeon, but she didn’t know what would happen then.

“Understand Tibs that this is a show of trust I’ve never given any Runner,” she said. “But you have demonstrated you want to protect the dungeon, beyond anything a guild member would be willing to sacrifice. And because Harry is often complaining to me about your actions in the city, I know that you also care for it and the people here. I see a great future for you as an adventurer Tibs, but I also understand the temptation freedom represents. If you run, you will be punished. I will see to it myself, and you can expect that this trust I am showing you will never be shown again, not even if you nearly kill yourself for the dungeon again. So treat this with the care it deserves.”

Tibs nodded and took it. He placed it around his wrist and didn’t hesitate to close it. This time the pain was immediate as he resized itself until it was tight against his skin.

She smiled. “Now, keep it covered for a few more hours and stay at the back with the gathering is called, then you’ll be able to travel as you want until you are recalled.”