I made it through the city gate without issue. I spent the time passing though it looking through the quests that had popped up during the auction. With a little fiddling, I found a way to bring up the target of the judgements. It came with an image of their face, their name, class, total level, and even their current exp values.

  I’ll give the list to Calmar and do a little digging before following through on these. I thought as I stopped at a stall and bought some kind of meat and vegetable dish on a stick. As fun as it’d be to just mass punish, I think it’ll be more effective if I time the judgements right. Something public, maybe while I’m being visible?

  As I considered that, I found myself rethinking my stance on being sneaky. It was a tool, and throwing out a tool probably wasn’t a great idea. Even if the idea of slipping through shadows and avoiding detection felt like a hassle that wasn’t worth the effort, there were going to be situations that could call for it.

  I held the tip of the wooden skewer in my mouth and moved it around a little as I thought about it. I’d eaten the food without thinking about it, and didn’t want to light another cigarette as I walked. It gave me something to do as I let my mind wander, and I couldn’t help thinking about Paige, Elayne, and now Zaion being stuck in a guild holding cell.

  They’ll be fine. We’ve got a few days to do something about it. And if we couldn’t figure something out, I planned to have some rather direct words with the architect of this mess. I didn’t think it was all on Jason, though. There was a larger group responsible, and maybe it was time to pay them a visit.

  Not tonight though, I was already pretty late getting back, and someone was going to get upset with me, I was certain of it. The likely suspects were going to be Grimoire or Deacon. Calmar wouldn’t confront me and Porter would follow his lead. Geraldine might say something, but I could ignore her if I wanted to.

  As I made my lazy way back towards the manor, I wondered who would bring it up.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Danielle Rosecrest. There are courier stations all over the city and you didn’t think to send even a note? I’ve been waiting for hours to talk with you, and nobody knew where you were. Do you know how worried we were about you?”

  Of all the people, I hadn’t expected a certain elderly man in a light blue robe and tan pants to be waiting in the foyer for me. Toren had been busy for a while, ever since the party, and I actually felt bad making him wait. “Sorry…”

  He snorted, “Apology accepted, but I don’t forgive you.” Toren motioned for me to follow him and let out a long sigh, “A representative from the guild stopped by to let Calmar know what had happened. Apparently, he’d been asked to keep you out of trouble, but you disappeared on him.”

  “What?” I asked, blinking. “I didn’t know someone was trying to keep watch on me.”

  Toren opened the door to the lounge we usually met in, “I suppose I can’t lay the blame on you for that one, if that’s the case. You are pretty bad at lying, so I will believe you for now.”

  “I am not bad at lying! I just… don’t usually see the point.” I said, sitting down and leaning back in the armchair. I ran my hand through my hair again, self conscious about maybe missing some gore from the fight earlier. “I wish I’d gotten a shower. I still feel gross, even if Zaion claimed he got most of the mess off.”

  “I know the feeling.” Toren nodded sagely. “Nothing better than a long shower and a drink after a fight.”

  We sat in comfortable silence as Toren grabbed two glasses from the cabinet next to a suit of armor that looked like someone had melted clean through where the heart should be. He set them down and poured generously from his flask. “So, what happened?”

  As I told him of what he missed, filling him in on everything since we’d last met. He called me an idiot multiple times, and shook his head when I told him about the encounter in the alley. Then I started filling him in about what happened after leaving the guild.

  “Wait, so you just wanted to check on the spot you died and meet the people who helped you again? Why wouldn’t Deacon want you going? It’s a bad part of town, but that tavern is within eyesight of the gate.” Toren swirled his glass as he considered it. “You said they had a good selection of booze?”

  I laughed and nodded, “Supposedly. He just made me these really fruity tasting drinks that were pretty good. Called them a screwdriver.”

  “Oh, vodka and juice. A classic.” Toren smiled. “Supposedly, dwarven children are raised on it.”

  “That’s what Greg said!” I exclaimed, leaning forward. “I didn’t believe him, but if you’re saying it too…”

  “Ha! No, it’s not true. Well, mostly. Dwarven children can be as old as their mid twenties. They aren’t considered adults until they’ve gotten they’ve gotten their Tier 3 class.” He shrugged, “I think the oldest dwarven child I know of was in their late 30s, but he was rather indecisive for a dwarf.”

  “Could he have been getting skills and abilities? Kind of like I’m doing.” I asked, curious. I probably wasn’t the first person to consider leveling all of the Tier 1 classes, though the Tier 2 classes seemed a little more specialized.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  He shrugged, “Maybe? I never really looked into it.”

  “Not even the name?” I was surprised, since Toren seemed pretty knowledgable.

  “Nah, I was more concerned with keeping my friend from poisoning himself too severely.” Toren leaned in, “If you ever try dwarven chili, be sure to take from the non spicy pot. They need a special ceramic pot because it melts most metallic pots.”

  My eyes went wide at the mental image of chili melting through a pot. “Is it even safe to eat something like that?”

  Toren nodded, “Of course. Dwarves are able to due to natural poison resistance and a natural bonus to their physical stats every level.”

  “Wow…” I said, leaning back, “That’s pretty incredible. Must make them hard to kill too.”

  The priest snorted, “Not any harder than anyone else. Might need a few more whacks with a club, but a knife through the eye or throat will kill just about anyone.”

  I thought about that, “Is there anything that prevents that?”

  “Regeneration. A number of people with high physical stats can visibly heal from normally lethal wounds, but it’s not a guarantee.” He took a large gulp from the glass and poured himself some more.

  “I have that now. Thought it’d be a good idea.” I said, holding my glass out for him to pour more.

  “And you’re experiencing one of the downsides of it.” Toren said, pouring the drink.

  I looked at him confused before taking another drink. I didn’t know what it was, but Toren’s liquor wasn’t having as big an effect as normal. “What do you mean?”

  “Dani, how much have you had to drink tonight?” Toren asked, a small smile on his face.

  “Uh, Greg refilled my glass a couple times, and even brought a new one. That was… maybe an hour or two ago? Then this.” I said, motioning with the glass as I took a sip, enjoying the flavor.

  “And how strong were those drinks?” Toren asked.

  “Uh… I didn’t taste much alcohol, but Greg said to be careful because they packed a punch.” I said, brow furrowing. I didn’t think I liked where this was going.

  “And you know the stuff in my flask is strong, but you seem pretty good so far.” Toren observed. “Why do you think that is?”

  I frowned and stared at my glass. “No…”

  “Yes…” He confirmed, his smile growing wider.

  “Fuck.” I swore and chugged the glass, determined to prove him wrong, a little dribbling from the corner of my mouth.

  “Hey! Don’t spill, you heathen.” He reached over and grabbed my wrist, pulling my arm down. It was too late, the glass was empty. The priest sighed in exasperation. “Why are you wasting good booze?”

  I set the glass down and stood up, happily surprised at how lightheaded I was. “See! I can still get dru…nk…” I hesitated as the feeling started to fade away. “Void take me, that barely took any time.”

  Toren started chuckling. “Wait, so you didn’t believe me?”

  “The trait says injury! Drinking isn’t an injury!” I said, incredulous.

  The priest was laughing harder now, “Thats because alcohol is a poison, Dani! The most basic of them all.”

  I stared at him. “But… it doesn’t say it works on poison.”

  Toren shrugged, slowly calming down. Shaking his head, his face slowly returns to something closer to serious than amusement. “That’s because it’ll run the poison through you faster. Some are even designed to use that feature of regeneration to kill their target faster.”

  “That’s terrifying.” I said, returning to my seat. “I guess I could just turn it off.”

  The priest shook his head, “I wouldn’t. I’m not going to be here much longer, and you’re safer with it on.”

  “Please, I’m in my own home. How much danger could I be in?” I asked, not even considering it a real issue. “Between the guards at the front, Deacon, Porter, and Grimoire I’m pretty safe here.”

  “Habits start at home.” Toren said sagely. “And I wouldn’t get too comfortable with that idea. The Rosecrest name is a decent shield, but there are those who won’t respect it. The only time you’re ever truly safe is the grave, and even then it’s probably not a guarantee.”

  I frowned, “That’s a grim thought.”

  Toren rolled his eyes, “I’m not saying wear that to bed,” He motioned to the brigandine that I still had on, “But maybe keep your preferred weapon close whenever you sleep.”

  “Isn’t that a little paranoid?” I said, using Personal Armory to disappear the greaves and brigandine back to the Spatial Closet.

  “It’s only paranoia if people aren’t actually trying to kill you.” Toren said, finishing his glass and standing up. “Now, if you’ll go apologize to Calmar for worrying him, please? I have a meeting tomorrow morning and need to get going.”

  I stood and smiled, “It was nice seeing you again, Gramps.”

  Toren gave me a smile that brought a happy glint to his eyes, “You as well, Dani. I’ll try to stop by again soon.”

  I walked him out the door and watched him leave the property. With a sigh, I turned and almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Grimoire not even a pace behind me. “Fuck!” I put my hand to my chest as the door closed behind me, “You scared me, Grimoire.”

  “Apologies, miss. Was your visit with Priest Toren satisfactory?” The butler asked, stepping aside as I moved to walk past him.

  “Yes, it was.” I tried to calm my heart with steadying breaths. “Did you need something?”

  “There is a letter waiting for you in your room. It is an invitation from Lord Germaine regarding an upcoming party. Would you like me to make an appointment with the tailor, Ember to get something made?” His tone was polite, and showed no sign of irritation or anything beyond professional interest.

  “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. I promised him I’d wear the outfit I wore to the Duke’s party to Germaine’s next party.” Finally calmed down, I straightened my posture and looked up at him. “Where’s Calmar?”

  “In his room, likely a few glasses deep already.” Grimoire stated, looking up the stairs in the direction of his room. “I recommend holding any conversations off till tomorrow, though I will inform him you are home and safe.”

  I felt a little guilty, but nodded, “If you think that is for the best…”

  “Have a pleasant evening, Lady Dani.” Grimoire said, bowing slightly before heading for the stairs.

  I made my way to my room. It was a little too early to go to bed, but I did have a date with my shower. A long one. Between the slave auction and the guy’s head exploding, I felt unclean, and meant to do something about it.