//------------------------------// // (26) Are Rogues Thieves? // Story: Canterlot High's D&D Club // by 4428Gamer //------------------------------// Platick's POV Townmaster's Hall Jail Cellar A Short Time Later We had been sitting in this room for a half hour and nearly everybody was suffering as a result. Every surface was gray with dust, which made every foot and handprint visible. The dust mites floating about in the air kept any attempt to cool the room off fail, making the room hotter than any other stone room in summer. It was even more insufferable when nearly all of us kept sneezing or scratching at our eyes because the dust kept settling. The appeal didn't end there. A third of this already small room was made up of cells. One was a holding cell built for five people, or fifteen if you didn't care about them, but the other was single-use. Why there were jail cells in a frontier town like this, I had no clue, but the space remaining made it cramped to sit down here. I almost felt envious for the three beaten Redbrands in the holding cell. As for the fourth punk Ricven charmed, he stayed outside the bars with us. He was sat at a round table sitting in the center of the room with Rava and Ricven taking the only remaining chairs. Meanwhile, another chunk of the room was filled up by an old clerk's desk, which the Townmaster sunk himself behind to work. As the others all finished catching myself and Glemerr up to speed, my face sat buried in my hands as I let out a tired groan. "...Okay," I spoke once my thoughts were finally together. "I'll give you this much; none of that, shockingly, was your fault." "An' 'ow's that shockin' exactly?" Rava frowned. "Ya think us a buncha bloodthirsty psychos err somethin'?" "No, but I assumed four of you six would volunteer us to solve all the town's problems. And seeing all these jailbirds, I'd say I was right on the money." "Um. A-About that." The last crook in question, Ulrich as someone tried to inform me, weakly rose his hand. "Am I getting locked up too?" No one responded right away. Instead, Vareén looked to Ricven. "How much longer is he..." "About twenty minutes," Ricven timed. "Long enough fer us ta start askin' the real questions." "You freak." The Dwarf in the cape wrapped her hands around the bars. "I dunno what ya did ta Ulrich but if ya think whatever spell ya put him under is gonna make him more friendly with you lot than he is scared a' us, you're gonna be disappointed." I don't know what reaction the Dwarf expected, but it wasn't Ricven's toothy grin. "That what ya think?" Then he turned back to his victim. "Ulrich, if by the end a' this we decided you needed your comeuppance, would you prefer the cell with that darlin' lady there, or the emp—" "Empty one," Ulrich rushed. "Please, please, don't put me in the same cell as her! Out of all the captains, she's the craziest!" "Captains plural, huh?" I crossed my arms. "Ulrich, you rat!" She started yanking at the bars. "You better pray these magic devils don't feed ya to us when they're done wit' ya! 'Cause if they do, I'm pickin' ya apart piece. By bloody—" The goliath, who I learned was named Eglath, slammed the back side of his greataxe against the bars, coming inches from crushing her fingers. Her threat became a joke when her dainty scream bounced across the room as she fought to keep from tumbling backwards. "Shut up in there," Eglath demanded. Then he chuckled darkly. "I like this job." "Glad to hear you are all delighted." Harbin Wester said from his dusty desk. For such a small, out of the way town, he had been writing and stamping documents since the moment we came in here. "One of those papers better be a tax write-off for the reward we'll be getting," Vareén told him. He scoffed. "As I recall, one of your allies told me that dealing with the Redbrands was a personal matter while another offered to fix the problem, and I quote, 'free of charge,'" he fired back. A vein pumped above my eye. "Let me guess; the Dwarf and the woman in robes?" "Very astute of you," he complimented. "Nevertheless, expect no reward from me." He scoffed again. "Justice should be its own reward. Is that not what they say?" "Wow, you're scum." "And you are all brutes," he returned, never once looking up from his work. "If you must know what I am doing, I am penning my resignation. As well as a report on the Redbrands' affairs like I intended from the very start. Then? I am taking my first opportunity to get out of this godforsaken town with my life." "Is that so, Townmaster Wester?" From the only stairway leading out of this cellar, Glemerr was walking down as she carried Stostine bridle-style in her arms. While we were here, Glemerr tended to Stostine back at the inn. She looked pretty well recovered compared to how they all described her wounds. So why was Glemerr carrying her? Upon hearing her voice, Wester sunk into his chair. "Oh no..." I feel the very same. I nodded along with him. "From how I see it," Stostine went on, completely uncaring about how she looked being held by the orc. "You assisted extortionists and murderers. By all accounts, it is our civic duty to report your inaction to either the Leodaavian Order of Commerce or the Platinum Guard. Or both." "Oh, do as you please," he fired back. "I am already turning myself in. Since they made me ignore their crimes, I had to alter the tax reports so the Order of Commerce would never investigate. After all, if they arrived, these idiots might think I raised an alarm." Then, Wester set his hand on two heavier tomes to the left of him. "All the proof needed is here." "Wait, wait, wait." Rava glared. "Yer sayin' ya cooked the books?! Now ya really are complicit ta them tarts!" "I said I was turning myself in, did I not?! I never did this for my own benefit. Just my life. And whether you make any progress on them or not, I intend to serve whatever sentence Leodaav gives me. At least if I turn myself in I may get out of this with my life." Most of the others gave him predatory glares but I rolled my eyes. "So, someone want to tell me why any of this matters? The Redlads attacked you cause we're outsiders. Fine. Why are you pushing back?" "Infestation," Thorn said from her corner. The whole time since arriving, she told us about the bugbear in her own cryptic way while stuffing her face with bread. She never bothered wiping the crumbs from her face. "She's right," Vareén backed her up. "That bugbear was near their hideout. Closest lead so far." "It's not a lead." I frowned. "A bugbear was hunting a child. Now I'm not heartless, I'm glad he wasn't hurt, but that doesn't mean the bugbears and these idiots are connected." "Is that so?" Ricven kept his expression perfectly static as he swiveled his whole body towards Ulrich. Almost like a marionette doll. "Yo Ulrich? Is yer band and the bugbears connected?" "O-Oh, yeah, definitely." The man nodded. "Counting them and the goblins they got, uh, t-there's about twenty of them." "And there ya are, Platick!" Ricven swiveled back to me, his grin that much more cockier. "Doubt it now?" Applejack took a sigh of relief as she gave Rarity a happy nod. "Can't say that he does." She spent a second wiping the smile off her face to try getting as sour as her character. Sunset said they had to act like their characters. AJ hated every moment of playing this sourpuss, so she was gonna take any chance there was of making Platick play nice. "Guess I have some questions now," Applejack spoke in Platick's grumbling tone. I stared at Ulrich. "Have you ever heard the name Field Baron?" The Dwarf in the cell rushed the bars again. "Ulrich, ya better not!" Ulrich was about to say something before he stared back at his former captain. "I-I, uh..." Ricven tutted a couple of times before clearing his throat. "Ulrich, buddy, come on. Ya don't gotta listen ta her anymore! Would ya kindly answer my associate's questions from now on?" Ulrich froze up, his expression loosening for a moment before some new clarity came to him. He then looked dizzily to me. "Yeah, I've heard of the Field Baron. Boss takes orders from him." I glanced over at Ricven. "What is..." But Ricven shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout it. Just know he's your friend now. If he starts gettin' mum about anythang, just ask kindly like I did. Ya get me?" He gave me a sly wink and got up from the chair so I could sit down. "...Alright," I said, slinking over. I dragged the chair around so I was across the table from Ulrich before sitting, which put me beside Rava. Ask kindly? Like, use those words? I steadied my mind and stared at Ulrich. "Alright Ulrich. Would you kindly tell me about your boss? Start basic." As I said those words, Ulrich's mind swirled again but there was a light twitching to him. "Su-Su-Sure. Studious type. Keeps ta hisself. So untrustin', we dunno his name. Call 'em Glasstaff. He's gotta magic staff a' glass. Book too." "Ricven?" Stostine furrowed her brow, whispering at him. "Why is his tone different now?" "'Member how I said my magic makes it ta where he talks ta my standards? Well, he's answerin' ta Platick now. Must be his standards." "Works for me," I called back. "Now, he send you after us or did your captain over there make a judgement call?" I nodded over to the cell where the Dwarf barked insults at me in Dwarven. I threw a few back and she went to a quiet simmer. All fun and games until someone knows your language, huh lady? "Little a' both." He shrugged. "Anbera wanted a score on yer Dwarf's suit. Lads wanted a musician fer the Sleepin' Giant. Meanwhile, Glasstaff wants magic folk dead or gone." I knitted my hands in front of my jaw so Ulrich could only see my eyes. "Magic man hates casters?" "Paranoid of 'em." Ulrich nodded. "Thinks they're huntin' him. Meanwhile, Field Baron wants outsiders kept back. Goals align and we." He pointed to himself and the other Redbrands. "Enforce them goals. Well, us and them hairy beasts." I glanced over my shoulder. The whole group had their full attention on this. Good. I didn't want to repeat this. "You said bugbears and goblins are twenty strong?" Ulrich nodded. "What about your band? How many?" Ulrich bobbed his head back and forth for a moment. "I'd say, err...Somethin' over forty? Add them beasts and it's over sixty. Easy." Well, minus eight thugs and a dead bugbear. More like over fifty, I calculated. "Pffft! Dat's nothin'." Glemerr batted away the claim. "Back in East Alder, dey got gangs numberin' three digits! We could trash sixty bozos by da end a' da night." "Maybe if ya caught us outside the hideout," Ulrich admitted. "Inside? Different story." "Traps?" "Yep." "Everyone's armored?" "Ta the teeth." "What's the worst you got?" Ulrich leaned forward but his voice caught in his throat. "U-Uh. Well...There's monsters." "Like bugbears?" I perked an eyebrow. "Nah. They're wild but nothin' like the real scaries. Like that fissure demon and. A-And the..." "And the what?" I pressed, leaning forward. Ulrich gave me a look and started weighing his options in his mind. "...Promise you'll put me in a private cell?" "Depends how much I get." Ulrich stared back at me, then at the other Redbrands from the corner of his eye. By now the Dwarf and the other two were watching him carefully. The Dwarf was the only one with a glare. In the end, he chose us. "Glasstaff practices forbidden magic. It's why he hates other magic folk. Dunno what everythin' is and I haven't seen it all either. But I know about the skeletons." I heard some stifled gasps from around the room. That is, except for the Townmaster. "You what? Skeletons?!" He screamed. "For how long?!" Ulrich turned to face Wester. "Since we got 'ere. Speakin' of." He clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers. "Thanks fer keepin' the kingdom's eyes off us." "I. I-I have nothing to do with that!" He looked across all of us. "Please, believe me, I knew nothing of this! I admit I knew of their assaults and extortion, but if there was necromancy, I would have never let this lasted!" "Yet you are still responsible," Stostine told him. "So, truly. Thank you for that, Townmaster Wester." Wester started shaking and stuttering before abruptly taking his resignation letter and ripping it to shreds before reaching for a new piece of parchment to write a much more pressing report. "Hold on a tad." Rava leaned forward at Ulrich. "Ya said skeletons, aye? Not zombies?" Ulrich quickly shook his head. "It's always skeletons. I know 'cause Glasstaff has us feed the remains to that fissure demon." Rava sat back, rubbing her temples. "Oh, that ain't good." I looked to her. "Why? Are skeletons harder to deal with than zombies?" Rainbow opened her mouth but slowly spun to face Story. "Would Ah know the difference between 'em?" Story glanced down at the screen, watching as a scene of Ravathyra appeared on his side. Or rather, multiple scenes. They overlapped each other. One showed Rava paying extra careful attention to her studies while another was her goofing off in the halls of the cathedral. As Story watched, he interpreted it as the dunamancy considering every possibility. "Uh, make a religion check," he decided. It's what he would've had her done anyways. He watched as Rainbow's dice came to life before she scooped one up to let it dance on the table. Only, when it came to a halt, all her interest and excitement plummeted. "I rolled a one." Story then watched every scene on his screen vanish except for one. Now a considerably young Rava, probably just starting her lessons, was passed out over her desk. The head priest decided to ignore her, instead focused on the more promising acolytes. "Uh..." Rava's eyes widened as they darted in every direction. "Th-They, erm. They. They never taught me tha'. Oddly enough. Hehehe..." Doubt. "But the reason Ah asked'," she switched gears. "Ah 'eard about it while Ah paid a visit ta the mines this mornin'. Some prospectors were tellin' stories 'bout a tower wit' zombies guardin' the place. They chase whoever comes near." Stostine bit her thumb. "So there are now two instances of forbidden necromancy." Vareén eyed the Townmaster gripping his head in despair. "You suck at your job." "Shut up!" "Doesn't matter," I told everyone. "If this 'Glasstaff' only deals in skeletons, forget the zombies. In fact, forget the undead for now." I faced Ulrich again. "You keep saying fissure demon. What is that?" Everyone grew silent as Ulrich tensed up. "...Nobody knows what that thing is. But we've all seen it. A tall, spindly-lookin' thing with taut skin, spines out its back, and this single large, glowin', green eye. Whenever it stares at ya, it feels. Fuh-Feels like he's...in there. Ya know? In yer mind, makin' it itch and cramp 'cause of all the crawlin' around it does. Made me remember things I wish never came back." 3rd Person POV Game Room All the girls leaned back for a moment. Then, as Applejack was busy fighting off a chill going down her back, Twilight decided to take initiative. "What's it really called?" She asked, trying to keep to Vareén's voice as she readied her pencil for her notes. "No clue." Story shook his head while talking in Ulrich's tone. "But Glasstaff talks with it. Guards the place in exchange fer fresh meat n' gold." "Hold up, gold?" Rarity said, half in Ricven's voice before falling back to her own. "What does a monster want with gold?" Story cleared his throat and held up a die. "Who wants to find out?" He watched as almost every hand went up. It made him chuckle sadly. "Figured. Alright, well. Unless the magic has any objections, this is something you have to choose. What skill do each of you want to get an answer? Tell me and then roll. I'll go around the table." He started pointing at the girl closest to his left and went counterclockwise from there. "Uh...Survival's my best?" Twilight shrugged. Story gave her the okay and moved to the next girl. "Ricven has history," Rarity revealed. "Glemerr...Urp. Nope. Nothing! Whoopsie!" Pinkie shrugged with her tongue stuck out. None of her dice would even glow for her. Story gave her a guilty look and moved on. "Uh...He keeps saying 'demon,' right?" Rainbow sighed. "I'll try religion again." Fluttershy tapped her dice but when none of hers lit up either, she simply shook her head. "Could Ah do investigation?" Applejack gave this strained look. "Highest Ah got." "Uh..." Story glanced at the screen ahead of him and watched a few faint scenes of a younger Platick overlapping. "Yeah, that'll work. Finally, Stostine?" "Arcana." Sunset nodded. "Alright. Everyone roll." Story then watched as his screen have small scenes featuring their characters spurring to life as everyone picked up their dice. "Since these are all different skills, just know there's different explanations. And, since I'd do this normally," he muttered guiltily. "Some of these answers might have red herrings. Sorry girls." "Ugh. Nine." "Same," Applejack and Rainbow grimaced. "He didn't give you much to work with," Story informed them. "Platick, you don't know anything with that description and Rava, ironically, has the opposite problem. Can't narrow it down enough." "Fifteen?" Twilight offered. "With a fifteen in survival, it certainly isn't something from your stomping grounds," Story explained. "But with a green eye and having dwelled in an underground fissure, you assume it's nocturnal or at the very least avoids sunlight. More than likely sees well in the dark. It can apparently mess around with someone's mind so it might not be physically daunting?" He shrugged. "Although, if it's jumpy and spry, it may also be good at avoiding detection. Survival tells you physical facts but not always what something may be." "And now for the two magic folk. What do we got?" Story rubbed his hands together when he saw their expressions. "Twenty-one, darling." Rarity leaned back. "Really?" Sunset clicked her tongue. "Only nineteen." "Both are pretty great," Story admitted. "The following is a combination of your checks. This creature is known by many as a nothic. N. O. T. H. I. C." Story witnessed a few of the girls all writing stuff down, especially Twilight. "A nothic...Oof, this is topical." Story took a breath as he gathered his thoughts. "A nothic is the result of someone who wanted a greater understanding of magic that they were unprepared for." At that, Sunset and Twilight froze as tight as stone. "It can either be those seeking out secrets and abilities of the arcane arts." Sunset had a bead of sweat go down her forehead. "Or those that are born with or happen across magic too powerful for them to control." Spike put a paw over Twi's hand to keep her from snapping her pencil. "Regardless, a nothic is the result of a subject's body becoming cursed or altered permanently until they have no resemblance of what they once were. "Furthermore, they also lack all memories of their former selves; their only focus being that of want for arcane secrets and valuables they do not possess. What's worse, when someone fully becomes a nothic, there is no cure. It is said even the interventions of gods themselves will only work to a minimal extent. What's more, as they lose themselves, they gain a new talent. The ability to peer into another's mind. To pick at their brains for their darkest, most well-kept secrets. All so they can hoard that knowledge. "Now, for specifics. Rarity." Story turned fully at her. Sadly, the fashionista was too entranced in the details to notice her two friends having war-like flashbacks. "You learned of nothics not only by word of mouth. But by personal experience." Story glanced down at his screen that revealed a grungy underground auction house full of Leodaav's hidden underbelly. Up on the stage was a reptilian creature chained in place with a burlap sack covering its only green eye. "Once someone has fully succumbed, it is forever a monster. One that may be seen as valuable to the highest bidder due to its one-track mind. They're easy to control and manipulate with the right enticement and they can make for great guard dogs or interrogators, ripping the secrets out from victims." "...Stostine." Story turned to find Sunset fighting not to crawl out of her seat. "You've never encountered or seen a nothic yourself; thank goodness for that. But when your magic first began manifesting, your mentor would tell you stories. You once assumed they were fairytales to keep young mages like you from letting their magic rampage but upon hearing the description of this monster now? Your mentor was not making it up. They're real. And they look. Like. This." Story held up a page he had prepared ahead of time with a single image. That of a crouching, reptilian beast with skin peeling off as though it ripped itself out from inside whoever it was once before. All with a single green eye that seemed to pierce into one's soul. Twilight watched as the image was eventually turned towards her. She studied the picture like everyone else but froze when she watched it blink; the iris changing to a moderate violet to match with her. The grin then began widening at her reaction as it's snake-like tongue coated each jagged fang with swampy saliva. It rose one of its front limbs, the claws twitching as one flicked away a piece of it's own peeling flesh. "twilight?...Twilight?...Twilight!" Twilight's attention zeroed in on her dear pet dog as he looked up from her lap. "A-Are you okay?" Twilight gave Spike a weird look and turned back to point out the picture, but stopped. The eye was green again and the creature was only a still image on a page. Not only that, but as Twilight thought back, no magic wisped from it like everything else at the game. The picture was a picture. When Twilight saw the others giving her concerned looks, she cleared her throat. "Sorry. I got a little surprised is all." Sunset gave her this look of understanding, but Twi knew it wasn't quite for the right reason. "Is there anything else we would know about it?" Sunset brought the focus back to the game. "One last point, since Rarity got over a twenty." Story sat up and put the picture away. "Ulrich admitted his boss made a deal with the nothic. My little tale aside, nothic's still have some semblance of intellect. They can communicate. Telepathically, that is." Platick's POV Townmaster's Hall Jail Cellar "Basically, it'll read yer mind whether ya want it to or not," Ricven summarized, concluding his history lesson at us. "So that's what the brain itchin' is," Ulrich muttered to himself. "Knowin' that don't make it better." "No kidding." I frowned. "Alright. I've heard enough." "As have I." Stostine folded her arms in her sleeves. As she and Ricven explained the creature, she asked Glemerr to put her down. I could tell the spot where she was shot was still tender but she fought through the pain. "We are dealing with a budding necromancer and a large group of thugs at his command. Yet the Field Baron requesting Gundren's capture is seemingly stronger than even the necromancer." I shook my head, staring down at the table. "What are we doing?" "That's what we gotta decide," Rava told me. "No. I mean, what are we doing?" I glared at her. Then at the others. "Look at us! We're not a team. I trust none of you. We tried playing it careful at the cave and we ended up splitting up and alerting everything at once. Some of us almost died. And they were just goblins. Then we made a plan to scout the town and some of you almost died. Again!" "But this time we know what we're up against," Ricven assured me. "Long as we don't get cocky and play it close ta the ribs, we'll be fine." "Oh really?" I gave him a look. "How many nothics have you killed?" Ricven clamped his jaw. "Rava." I turned to her. "You ever handle skeletons before?" She grumbled something that sounded like syllables. "Does anyone here know how to handle anything we're up against? Because I can ask the right questions to this idiot." I pointed a finger to Ulrich. "But being prepared isn't the same as being capable." "Applejack, what are you doing?" Rainbow asked with a weird look. "Isn't Platick already on board?! The guy even said 'Field Baron' like that bugbear did! Why are you making this so hard?" "Yeah!" Pinkie smiled. "You don't have to have Platick be a meanie mcMean pants anymore! He want's to do the right thing like us! That's why he's after Gundren!" Well...not really. She let her Stetson lean over her face. That ain't how I ended up playing him. Heck, all I've been doing is making him more and more selfish. Sometime after the girls asked to join the club, everyone met up individually to make characters. Pinkie volunteered to meet Story first and she thought it'd be fun to roll for a class instead of pick one. Then when it was Rarity's turn, she heard about Pinkie's idea and loved it. From there it became a tradition. When it got to Applejack's turn, she was glad to play along until she landed on rogue. Or, in her mind, a thief. She would've been fine with literally anything else but since no one got to reroll their class, AJ thought it'd be unfair. So instead, Story worked with her to make a character that was nothing like her at all. It seemed like a good idea at the time at least. Now it felt like karma. "Ah'm...Ah'm sorry y'all," she surrendered while glancing down at Platick's paper. "Ah wanna help, but he don't care about anythin'." "Don't car— err, doesn't care?" Sunset corrected. "What are you talking about?" "Ah mean...Uh, th-this part." AJ picked up the character sheet and held it up to her friend. Even with all the writing garbled and shifting, it was obvious a few boxes were empty. "Them boxes sayin' bonds and flaws. Ah left 'em blank." "Well, maybe so, but that doesn't mean Platick cares about nothing." Sunset let herself smirk. "Actually, he cares about the same thing you do." "What?" AJ frowned. "Sun, me and Platick are as different as chalk n' cheese. Ah even did that on purpose." "Well, perhaps you tried to do that," Rarity insisted. "But Sunset has a point. There is one thing that is blindingly the same." "Oh, you spotted it too?" Pinkie giggled. "I thought AJ did that on purpose like I did with Glemerr!" "What are y'all talkin' about? Ah ain't anythang like him!" Sunset stiffled a giggle. "Just keep playing, Applejack. And whatever happens next, just have Platick do exactly what he'll do. No holding back, okay?" "Holdin' ba..." She gave up with a groan. "Alright, fine. Take it away, Sugarcube. Don't know what yer tryin' though." "Look. Capable or not, they've kidnapped people," Vareén stood up first. "A mom and two kids." "And we know they're still alive," Ricven informed me. "Ulrich confirmed it back at the inn. They're locked up in a cell like our setup." "And that's our problem?" I begrudgingly challenged. That's when they started glaring. "Don't get me wrong, it's messed up. But dying on the way there helps no one. And what if, on the way out, we get them killed? Would any of you trust us to get it right?" "So that would be it then?" Stostine asked from behind my chair. "You would give up on Gundren, innocent children, and a town's worth of people just like that? How despicable are you?!" "You know it's not that simple." I stared back at her only for her to narrow her eyes. "Guilt trip me all you want, we'll only make it worse when we fail. And as much as I hate him." I nodded towards the Townmaster "He was right not to risk everything." "Erm, thank you?" He scratched at his neck. Stostine didn't seem to like that answer. I didn't think she'd actually try anything but I found myself turning more in my chair so I could be ready. Although, what I wasn't ready for was to see her to turn her head and spit at the ground with a sneer, catching everyone's attention. "Just like your parents aren't you? The Dirty Fortunas." ... ... I got out of my seat. "For tuna?" Thorn Wielder spoke with a blink. "Ya mentioned that the other day," Rava told her. "Why did..." But she trailed off as I closed in on Stostine. "Platick? What're ya—" I grabbed Stostine and forced her against the wall, pulling out a dagger and setting it so far against her throat she had to resist gasping. I heard everyone shift behind me but my gaze never left hers. "Say it again. Say it one more fucking time you frail, useless, piece of godda—!" "Platick, get off 'er," Glemerr roared. "Fortuna..." The Townmaster thought to himself. Then I heard him stand from his chair. "Wait. As in the Fortuna Trade?!" No! I cringed as Stostine refused to look away from me. "Correct," Stostine said, ignoring my rage. "The Fortuna Trade. A family-owned business that had become a merchant company. That is until their hand wa—" She let out a hiss of pain as a trickle of red traced my knife. "You're done talking," I whispered. "Ha," Wester barked, laughing as everyone turned to glare at him. "Oh, that is ironic, isn't it?! All of you throw your ire to me, claiming I was harboring extortionists! Meanwhile, one of your own belongs to a family of crooks!" Saying nothing, I took the dagger away from Stostine's neck flinging it deep into Wester's desk, embedding it through his letter as he jumped back in a scream. Then, before Glemerr could take another step towards me, I pulled a new dagger to plug up the cut in her neck as I slammed my hand against the wall beside her, blocking her escape. Story nodded. "On that note...Vareén, Ricven, and Rava? The three of you can make history checks. Each of you have different numbers to beat." The three girls obliged, counting up their totals. "Another one? Are you kidding?!" Rainbow asked. "Why do you think I ditched 'em in my saddlebag?" Gilda asked with a shrug. "I'm not better. Five," Twilight revealed. "Well it's a good thang Ricven's on the square," Rarity taunted with a New Orleans's accent. "Twenty-four." "On the ball," Twilight corrected tiredly. "Well this'll be fun to explain." Story got up from his chair, walking over to Rarity who shifted her hair so she could hear his whispers. "Platick?" Vareén's gaze burned into the back of my head. "What are they talking about?" "Ah, the Fortuna Trade," Ricven said aloud. "I remember now. It was all abuzz in the capital sixteen or so years back. Every walk a' life kept gossipin' about it." I felt my eye twitch and my breathing became unsteady. Stostine had a front-row seat to it. "You know of it?" Vareén asked. "I lived it," Ricven gloated. "I was only a wide-eyed sixty year-old back then. Fer you humans, that's pretty young fer a gnome." "Better not," I threatened. "You better not..." I felt Stostine's hand land on my arm. She was giving me this sorry but firm expression. Almost motherly. I drew more blood from her throat. "Ya see," Ricven carried on anyway. "All a' Leodaav's nobility an' merchants are made up a' old money; families and lineages that have all been in the game. Way everythang's set up, it's next ta impossible fer new faces ta become big shots. That was, 'til the Fortuna Trade came along." "That's the upper crust for you," Wester added. "I may be townmaster, but I was never fated to wield the kind of power a noble does. Being a governor is the closest opportunity one like me has." "Or my family," Stostine seconded. "Even then, Father needed the recommendation of somebody with that status." "Nobility an' politics are typical." Ricven shrugged. "It's all bloodlines anyhow. But with merchant companies, they crush whatever fool steps up ta the plate. And right when the Fortuna Trade was so close ta sittin' at the big boy's table, they were discovered ta be taken part in every underhanded deal imaginable." "NO! THEY DIDN'T!" I screamed, taking my dagger off of Stostine's neck and facing everyone. Glemerr and Rava were poised to rush me but Stostine waved them off while holding her shallow cut. "They never did ANY OF IT! All they did was good business! They never cheated people! They never stole stock! They never dealt with the black market! It doesn't matter what you heard; it's crock! All of it!" "Say that all you like," Wester spoke low. "I was a banker back then. I was among the handlers that investigated the Fortuna ledgers. Their numbers." He smacked the tomes beside him. "It is as Lady Dagarkin claimed. I altered the figures for this town to hide the extortion. Where do you think I picked up such a skill?" "Not from us," I turned my dagger on him. "Those books were fake! The. End. Our trade was cleaner than any of those companies have ever been!" "Yeah, sure. Let's believe the knife-wielding maniac." Vareén laid it on thick. "I'm telling the truth!" I gazed at her next. "And I've tried everything I can think of to prove it. But..." I lowered the knife. "But it gets me nowhere. Wherever I try digging around, people find out and treat me like garbage. Like a thief..." Applejack blinked a few times, replaying those words a few times. Like a thief. People treat him like a thief. Like I did...Huh. She glanced to Story, who motioned for her to keep going. He wasn't about to stop her. In fact, he was writing most of this down himself. Then she looked at Sunset, and then Rarity and Pinkie. All of them gave her cocky smiles. Heh. So that's what you're all playing at. The Fortuna bit, she surmised. AJ glanced back at Platick's paper, staring at the two boxes unfilled. Curious, she plucked her pencil and began to write. With each word, she watched the game's magic cement the words in place as her friends waited. "...I think I should probably ask," Stostine said after a moment, walking around so I could see her along with everyone else. "Are you a thief, Platick?" I huffed, wiping her blood off my dagger before putting it back where I got it. "No. No, I'm not. Whenever I'm trying to set it straight, I don't break the rules. That would only prove it." Next, I drew out my rapier. Rava and Glemerr readied themselves again but I held it out as if to present it. "This is the only thing I've ever stolen. It wasn't my idea. And even if the dick I stole it from deserved it, it never felt right. So I keep it as a reminder." "You didn't think to give it back?" Vareén cocked her head. "Wouldn't that be the right thing to do?" "Well sure." I grimaced. "If he was still alive for me to do it." "You killed him?!" Wester asked, earning my strongest glare yet. "No," I said blankly. "Not directly. It was the scum that broke in the same night. This was how he would've defended himself, had I not swiped it." "Hmm. Well everyone?" Stostine turned to the others. "Do we believe him?" "Ya mean about the Fortuna Trade being in the clear? Oh, pfft, obviously!" Ricven scoffed. "Them high an' mighty merchants would definitely set 'em up. They've done so much worse, it ain't a far leap a' logic." I gave him a look. "Sure, but that wouldn't prove my theory. What says I'm right?" "As I said earlier, all walks a' life were talkin' about it. Even the seedier ilk." Ricven frowned. "I was in Agix when it happened. And I wanted all that juicy info. So, I paid a visit ta one a' the black markets and asked around. Despite the Fortuna Trade supposedly havin' fingers in every cake, no one admitted ta any dealin's with 'em." I rolled my eyes. "And why would they admit it?" Ricven chuckled. "Lemme try that again." He stepped next to Ulrich and waved his fingers sarcastically. "I asked around. And no one admitted it. Ya hear me now?" "Ah. How silly of me," I said robotically. "Also, you've been to one of the black markets?" "There are multiple black markets?" Stostine's tone matched mine. "Agix: The Capital of Commerce." Ricven waved his hand as though reading a banner. "A place like that; they probably got more than ten black markets. Sadly, I only knew three." "Not bad." I shrugged. "I know eight. Plus the speakeasies." "Oooh, you can find the speakeasies?!" Ricven's face lit up. "I only got in when a friend err two led me. They move too much ta keep up." "Heh. Sound like the Hydra Pits in Cragen," Rava remarked. "Or da fight clubs in Alderstone," Glemerr tacked on. "Does everyone here know crime?" Stostine asked incredulously. Vareén coughed into her fist and turned away while Thorn just blinked. "I'll give Platick this," Vareén moved on. "He can't sneak around to save his life. If he was a thief, he'd have been long caught by now." I narrowed my eyes. I'll choose to take that as a compliment. When no one else said anything, Rava approached me. "Platick. Ya said ya tried diggin' around fer the truth all legit, aye? Provin' yer families clean an' such?" I gave her a short nod. "Ah might 'ave no clue 'bout yer kin's history, but Ah know what a family's worth. So how's 'bout an offer?" She held a hand out for me to shake. "Work with us. Help overthrow these Foolbrands, save the mother an' daughters, and go with us ta rescue Gundren. When that's all said n' done, Ah'll do everythin' Ah got in my power ta back ya up." "Back me up?" I put my rapier back. "What do you mean back me up?" "Yer only doin' everythin' above the board. Ah respect that. But mah clan's name has some sway to it outside a' the Drakehead. Ah can help get ya an audience err two while stayin' fully in the lines. Maybe drum up some support. What say you?" I frowned at her. "Please. You said it yourself. I don't even know you." "True." She nodded. "But Ah get the intent...And, if ya think Ah'm lyin'." She took off her gauntlet and then removed a ring from her hand. "This is a symbol a' mah clan. Ah might 'ave the papers, but this is the real proof a' me heritage. Me Da even made it 'imself. Without it, it's hard ta prove Ah'm even really a Dagarkin. 'Ere ya go." Without hesitation, she flicked it at me, watching as I caught it between my fingers. "Take as long as ya need ta keep me at me word. An' don't give it back 'til ya do. 'Kay?" Rava held her hand back out to shake again. I stared down at the ring, turning it towards me. At the top was a Dwarven family crest stamped into a pure gold surface with a thin silver edge tracing around it. Both real and sentimental value. I licked my lips and tapped my heel a few times. "Even if I did give this back, if people find out you sit with me it'll drag your family's name down too." "Never crossed me mind," she told me with a grin. ...Delusional, I determined. With a roll of my eyes, I shoved the ring into a deep pocket and kept it there. Then I begrudgingly took her hand. "Don't expect me to die for any of this. If things go wrong, I'm out." "Then may that ring weigh as much as a rapier," she proposed. As Rava kept my hand engulfed by hers, Stostine reached over and placed her hand on top of ours. I glared at her and she gave me a modest nod. "I know you do not trust me either, but I want to offer the same. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps. To become something of a politician myself. I can use that to get myself into a few archives and the like. Perhaps I can help find proof. If you stay with us." Sure. You just want to make sure I don't run. "Oh, oh! Is dis one a' dem 'all hands in' sorta things?!" Glemerr stepped up and slammed her palm on the pile, crushing Stostine's petite fingers as she fought not to scream. "Count Glemerr in too! Ah got no clue what's goin' on but if anyone messes wit' ya Ah'll punch 'em in da mouth!" "How...thoughtful..." Stostine spoke through her teeth. Ricven joined in too, electing to put his hand underneath the initial handshake. "Someone's gotta back up these pretty ladies and I don't think yer up to the task yet, Platick. Guess that forces my hand." "Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically. Then I watched Thorn Wielder walk up and fill the empty space, adding her hand. "Do you even know what's going on?" "No." She shook her head. Her hand stayed. "That only leaves one more." Rava turned around. "Well Vareén! Come on now, everyone in!" "Not a chance." She crossed her arms. "Come on, even Platick's doin' it!" "Technically no," I corrected. "I shook your hand and people included themselves." "Shush, Ah want this ta be a group moment." Rava grinned at me. "Vareén, come along! I will hug you!" "And I will stab you." "Oh, Ah got it!" Glemerr gave us a look. "Group shuffle!" Rava tightened her grip on my hand, dragging me along as everyone awkwardly waddled towards Vareén. Despite my complaints, and Vareén trying to get away, they cornered her in the back of the cellar and stared at her with a determined gaze. "Are you really this childish?" She then look between each of us. "And why are you dead set on this?" "I didn't ask for this either," I pointed out again. "Just do it so they can let me go." "Yeah, come on Vareén. Be cool, like us," Glemerr begged. "Or be assimilated inta the madness," Ricven offered. "We can be very convincin', ya know." "Hand," Thorn demanded. Vareén steamed for a few seconds, meeting all of their stares and my tired groan before finally caving. "...Fine." She stepped forward and brought her hand near ours, only to stop short and give a thumb's up to the pile. "This is as close as you're gonna get." "Yay for peer pressure," Glemerr cheered, earning a few eye rolls. "Alright, whatever," Vareén groaned. "Where do we start? There's sixty of them and they're held out in a lodge out of town. Are we really fighting them tonight?" "No." I shook my head. "They have too many numbers for that. If we're clearing them out, we need to do it in steps. Not to mention, we put a few of them down and caught a captain. If they were out for blood before, they'll want the whole hog now." "Oh?" Stostine smirked. "Sounds as though you have a plan." I shrugged. "I don't know. From what I've seen, none of you care about plans." When Rava loosened her grip, I pulled my hand out of the pile and took a second to shake the stiffness out of it. "Normally I would argue against that." Stostine folded her arms into her sleeves. By now I was starting to get a good idea what that habit meant. "However, given our recent actions over the last few days, you may be correct." "Yeah, I am." I nodded, ignoring her half-hearted scowl. "So instead, I'm going to try giving you a plan you'd have to actively try going against. Namely, we're hitting them first." Ricven perked up an eyebrow. "I thought ya said we were doing this in steps." "We are. Step one is the second wave they're bringing tonight. If the four idiots here are any proof, they're all prideful and quick-tempered. If they somehow find out a bunch of their own were embarrassed by outsiders, It'd be safe money that they'll want revenge." "Oh, they know already," Vareén revealed. "One of those Fleebrands storming the inn got away from us. I pegged him running for safety in the direction Thorn said the lodge was." "Pegged 'em how?" Rava blinked. In a rare moment, Vareén let herself give off a winning smirk as she tapped the temple of her mind. As though on command, the veins around her eyes popped out enough to become visible. "You think Ricven and Stostine are the only ones with magic? I have tricks too." "Woah," Glemerr hummed. "Ah thought ya only had dat Zephyr Swing thingy!" "Zephyr Strike," Vareén corrected. "But no. This one's called Hunter's Mark. Makes it easier to track a target. But." The veins sunk back until they were no longer visible. "It's still active too. If not for Thorn finding their hideout, I would've actually used it." Stostine looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you know his exact location? How well does it work?" "Nothing that strong." Vareén shook her head. "It makes it easier to track him and I'd know if he died at any point. He's still alive and he ran towards the lodge. You nearly shredded him to pieces though." "Then the criminals up in the lodge know about the inn." I folded my arms. "And when captain Dwarf over here fails to return, they'll probably realize she failed too." "Hey!" The Dwarf thug in question slammed against the bars. "How's about ya say that this side a' the bars?!" "And when they do, they will most assuredly bring a larger force." Stostine frowned. "There is also the matter that the escaped Redfan saw my and Ricven's magic directly. If Glasstaff thinks proficient practitioners are present, his paranoia will peak." "Which means either the gang won't tell him and try to deal with it themselves, or they will and he'll mount an assault against us. Either way, they're likely coming tonight," I concluded. "Then what do we do?" The group looked to me as I ran a few things through my mind. "You listen up. If you want my help, you'll get it. I might not know nothics or magic people, but I know thugs on a street. So what're you gonna do? Rush them like idiots or stick to the plan?" The group all had a silent discussion between one another. Maybe I didn't sell my advice with the insult but it was all true. "Well, Ah'm in," Glemerr of all people spoke first. "Dis is da first time Ah've seen ya get serious 'bout a good fight! Ah wanna see where dis goes. Not ta mention, Platick's right. Takin' on a gang can get bloody if ya just break inta deir hideaway. Pretty fun~ but a few of ya ain't ready fer dat yet." "That is surprisingly profound a' ya, Miss Glem," Ricven admired. "And I couldn't a' said it betta myself. Screw it, I'm all skin." Vareén facepalmed. "Should I even bother correcting that?" The others quickly admitted to sticking to a plan for once. And once every single one of them were on board, I nodded. "In that case, let's start with getting some more help. Ulrich?" I turned around and watched the simpleton give me an expectant look. Good. He's still charmed. "Let's get into the real questions. Those other captains." I walked over and turned the chair around, straddling it as I stared him down. "Would you kindly start talking."