At some point in his fight with Gilead, it seemed like the rest of Lord Kel’s retainers had decided to watch — though they still blocked off the alley with their backs.

Kaius enjoyed their suppressed looks of disgust as he pulled his fingers from his arm with a wet pop. The bone had healed enough to hold, and at this point he was doing little more than stopping his flesh from sealing. He flexed it a few times, just to mess with his audience.

As Galiead pushed himself onto all fours, Kaius took the chance to check on his team. They looked at him incredulously — at this point they weren't going to be thrown by a little arm break, but he could admit it was a bit more flashy than the way he normally fought.

“I’ve never really considered stabbing someone with my bones before. Never really needed to either,” Porkchop teased, a faint wave of satisfied amusement crossing their bond.

Kaius rolled his eyes. The showmanship was the point — Galiead had to believe he had truly been outplayed and outmatched. After being held at bone-point, Kaius had no doubt that he’d won some small iota of the man’s respect. It had likely cost any remnant trace of decorum he might have once held, but Kaius didn’t care much for that in the first place.

When Galiead rolled onto his back he gave the man his full attention. After being pinned face down in the stone alley, he was thoroughly coated in a mixture of gore and mud, and his once perfectly combed hair was a wild mess. Kaius expected he didn’t look much better, what with half of his tunic and one side of his trousers being thoroughly soaked through with blood.

He offered the man his left arm — the torn up sleeve of his tunic covered his right, and there was no need to confirm how quickly he was recovering. Galiead took the peace offering, pulling himself to his feet.

The lord’s retainer looked like he didn’t know what to make of him; appraising him with a mixture of wary respect and outright disbelief.

“There’s something wrong with you guildhound,” the man finally said. “Who threatens someone with their own broken arm?”

Kaius laughed. “There are a few things I won’t sacrifice. My friends, my honour, and my word are amongst them, flesh and bone are not.”

Galiead’s eyes settled on the tattered remnants of Kaius’s sleeve.

“That much is evident.”

With a flicker of will, Kaius summoned two bulging waterskins, a handful of clean rags, and a phial of a thin amber liquid that faintly glowed with magical energy. Uncorking the skins, he carefully dripped a measure of the phial in each.

“Here,” Kaius said, passing a skin and some rags. “It wouldn’t do for a lord’s man to walk the streets coated in blood.”

“No, it would not,” Galiead replied, accepting the offering. “What’s in the glass?”

“Alchemical cleanser, cuts through blood, grease, and muck like nothing else.” Kaius explained.

Yanmi had shown it to him. It didn’t even reach the threshold of a true System-recognised item, just a cleverly brewed mix of mundane reagents and a bare hint of magic. They’d bought out her entire stock, and then stuck around Dawntown for an extra week just so that she could brew them a second crate.

After two unplanned forays into the Great Depths, he’d developed a dire appreciation for the value of cleanliness. While the cleanser didn’t match a proper bath and a bar of soap, it was a godsend when they weren’t available.

They fell into an uneasy silence as the muck flowed from them in rivulets, leaving them looking bedraggled, but no longer quite so bloodsoaked.

Once he was done, Kaius pointedly walked to his coinpouch that lay discarded against one wall of the alley. Crouching down to grab it, he saw Galiead clench his jaw out of the corner of his eye.

“I owe you an apology," Galiead said rather stiffly as he summoned the same ratty grey cloak he had worn during his earlier pursuit.

Throwing it over his shoulders, he approached — one hand held out. “Ealier, at the gates, I did not recognise you for the skilled warrior that you are. Even if decorum was broken, that deserves its own respect.”

Kaius shook the man’s hand firmly. “I appreciate it — and let me extend one of my own. We were trail-worn and irritable, and offered disrespect when we should have held our tongues. If your Lord Kel will have it in good spirits, I hope you can extend our regrets.”

As far as apologies went, both of them were half-hearted, rote things stretched thin over a skeleton of social propriety. In other words: exactly what was expected from both of them, and not one mote more.

Galiead didn’t respect him. He’d said it himself, he respected his strength — and the nebulous political backing that Kaius had made sure to insinuate they had. No common ground had been found — it was a damned punch up in an alley, not a diplomat's table — but he’d still achieved his most important goal. Proving they were standing eye to eye; that he and his team weren’t common thugs that could be prodded and pushed without consequence.

Giving him a single slow nod, Galiead broke his grip and made his way to the mouth of the alley with a decidedly ramrod spine.

“Let’s go,” he said stiffly, waving to his men that still watched Kaius and his team with wary eyes.

Watching them go with narrowed eyes, Kaius waited until he was sure they were out of earshot before he let out a laugh and started tugging off his tunic. The blood might be gone, but the rip in the sleeve would get him looks.

“That went pretty well!” he said, tugging on a fresh top.

Ianmus let out an explosive sigh of relief, leaning heavily on his staff.

“And it could have gone so, so much worse.”

“It could have, but it didn’t, did it?” Porkchop replied, still grinning slightly from the excitement of the fight.

“No,” Ianmus all but groaned, “But let’s try to avoid a repeat of that again. I still have my doubts that this matter is well and truly buried."

Kaius felt similarly. He’d had low expectations for his first brushes with the blueblooded, and yet he still somehow felt disappointed. Even if Lord Kel did let the matter drop, Kaius was under no illusions that they’d garnered any sense of good faith that day.

“I hate to butt in, but should we perhaps leave the blood-strewn alleyway?” Kenva said, looking pointedly at a spray of blood that stretched a good nine strides up the wall. “Preferably before someone comes to investigate the commotion and assumes we’ve murdered some poor soul?”

That was… a really good point. They should leave.

“Lets,” Kaius said, quickly summoning a thin linen cloak to hide some of the stains he hadn’t been able to clean out fully.

As they walked out of the alley, he pulled up his Status. A few skills had leveled during that fight, and it had been more than long enough since he’d gotten a good look — especially after the odd bits of practice he’d managed to get done during their visit to Dawntown.

Status:

Name: Kaius

Dynasty: Unterstern

Age: 20

Race: Human (Dynastic, Greater Beastblooded) - +1 Con, Str, Wil, and free stats per level

Layer Reached: 29

Class: Runeblade Hellion - +6 Int; +4 Con, Str, Wil; +2 Vit, Dex per level

Level: 249

Resources:

Health - 17,493/18,240 (109.1/min)

Stamina - 17,600/18,060 (123.1/min)

Mana - 22,770/22,770 (163.9/min)

Free Mana - 3,010/3,010

Reserved Mana - 19,760

Stats:

Constitution - 1824 (875 + 150 + 78%)

Vitality - 1091 (463 + 150 + 78%)

Strength - 1806 (865 + 150 + 78%)

Dexterity - 1231 (542 + 150 + 78%)

Intelligence - 2277 (994 + 180 + 94%)

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Willpower: -

1639 (665 + 180 + 94%)

Stat Points: 0

Aspects:

Pillar Corporus: The Struggler’s Madness

Pillar Mentis: The Veteran’s Edge

Pillar Animus: The Ceaseless Warrior

Refinement:

Alabaster Foundation

Class Skills (10/10):

Infused Glyph of Drakthar (Heroic) - 271

Hellblade Investiture (Heroic) - 230

Infused Glyph of Felmenia (Heroic) - 219

Mystic’s Rend (Heroic) - 200

Latent Glyph of Vyrthane (Heroic) - 200

Sigil of Vesryn’s Pact (Unique) - 200

Latent Glyph of Eirnith (Heroic) - 200

Mercurial Reversal (Unique) - 200

Runeblade Hymnfocus (Heroic) - 171

Latent Glyph of Muthryn, Throat of VOS (Heroic) - 159

General Skills (10/10):

Rapid Adaptation (Heroic) - 256

Liturgical Bladeform: Primus Ordo (Heroic) - 295

Sergeant’s Insight (Unique) - 257

Tempered by Dissonance (Heroic) - 238

Truesight (Unique) - 242

Tonal Weaving (Unique) - 264

Spellblade’s Harmonic Control (Heroic) - 252

Greater Regeneration (Heroic) - 267

Moment of Flow (Heroic) - 241

Brotherhood of Ichor and Animus (Heroic) - 265

Hymnbook:

Glyph of Drakthar - 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Glyph of Felmenia -

Glyph of Vyrthane -

Glyph of Eirnith -

Glyph of Muthryn -

Formationbook:

Sigil of Vesryn’s Pact -

Honours:

Born for Slaughter (Bonus)

Sublime Prodigy - Glyph Binding (Bonus)

Birds of a Blood Soaked Feather (Bonus)

Persistent Survivor (Minor) (Bonus)

Kingslayer (Major) (Bonus)

Ruthless Underdog (Bonus)

Ruthless Underdog II

Trailblazer II (Bonus)

Hordebreaker

Ruthless Underdog III (Bonus)

Persistent Survivor IV (Minor) (Bonus)

Paragon (Major) (Bonus)

Daring Challenger (Minor)

Triarch (Bonus)

The Wheel Turns

The Paver Of Ways (Bonus)

Hordebreaker II

Massacre II

When Killers Meet

The Mighty Stand Alone

Spellchain II (Bonus)

Trailblazer III (Bonus)

Tyrannomachia (Bonus)

Bound Artefacts:

A Father’s Gift - Growth Longsword (Epic, T1)

Ready for Advancement! Material Required! (0/1, T2 Epic)

….

An hour later, they’d put at least two leagues between themselves and the site of his impromptu duel. Following the map they’d purchased earlier, they’d wound their way through the streets of Baanswell, snaking through the outskirts of the city until they were solidly in the northern quadrant of the city.

It was similar to the section they’d left. The buildings were a little bigger, and some of them were built out of a strange, almost glazed, blue brick that Ianmus said was in vogue a hundred years prior. Other than that, it was still a dense mash of towering terraces that cut off his view to all potential landmarks in the city — including the few hills he could see on the map.

It made navigation annoying; forced them to rely on charting a route by constantly comparing the tiny placards on street corners with the names on their map. He, Porkchop, and Kenva found it totally disorienting. All of them were used to picking a few memorable waymarkers to navigate. Ianmus was better off, being used to the warrens of Mystral, or so he said.

Still, they’d started to make their way deeper into the city, in the direction of the Workingman’s Plaza. On the map, it looked like a massive open square on the outer rim of the central district. A central location that held the Baanswell branch of the Delvers Guild, some sort of subsidiary mage Spire, and a dozen other chartered organisations besides.

There was even a branch of the Runewright’s Collective — a place Kaius was eager to investigate for himself once they’d gotten settled. He still needed to deliver them his notes on the Imperial script, and the fundamental tenets of glyphbinding. That, however, was a task that could wait until later in the day.

They’d really only had a few goals they needed to deal with, recent derailment not withstanding. Make their presence known to the guild, as Rieker and Ro had strongly suggested they do, and find some sort of lodging. The first should be quick and easy, though they’d been warned that Guilewind, the Baanswell guildmaster, would want to meet them personally.

Kaius assumes that in a city this big, Guilewind would be a busy man — but he couldn’t see how they would have to wait for more than an hour or two, even in the worst case. Their lodgings, however…

Porkchop was large, even when he used his natural magics to stay a more manageable seven strides at the shoulder. Most of the buildings here were…narrow. His brother would fit, but Kaius had a sneaking suspicion that most innkeeps would take umbrage at the risk of damage.

There was no way in all of the forsaken hells that he was going to ask Porkchop to stay in a bloody stable, so for now he just hoped that someone in the guild could point them somewhere more accommodating.

He sighed, taking the next corner when Ianmus signaled them to turn. At least it was only midday, they had plenty of time before it got dark.

“Kaius,” Ianmus prompted, drawing his eyes away from a cart drawn by some sort of bear creature that was approaching down the road.

“Hmm?” he replied

Ianmus seemed to hesitate for a moment. “How did you do that, back there in that alley. You played off Galiead’s pride and honour perfectly. I was dead certain we were going to end up in a blood feud before lunch, and yet we somehow threaded the needle.”

His friend's question brought back old memories.

Father reached deep into the gut of the strange deer, blood coating his arms and bare chest. He was taking his time, carefully breaking down the creature that had to be thrice the size of any other buck Kaius had seen.

It had to be special, for Father to just run off like that in the middle of his weekly rant about nobles being ‘little more than serpents with delusions of finery’.

“Father,” Kaius said, leaning against a tree.

He took Father’s grunt as he tore the buck’s stomach free for an invitation.

“For all you complain about them, you’ve never actually explained what I should do if I run into a noble.”

“Don’t, boy, that’s my first and largest piece of advice,” Father said, setting aside the stomach before he dived back into the carcass. “They’re all the bloody same.”

“You make it sound like some sort of curse — they can’t all be bad.”

“It is: a curse of circumstance. Strip away the money, status, and Skills? It’s easy to see the truth of it. There’s nothing special; no quality of spirit or blood that defines them. Just circumstance. Put a common man in their place, and you’ll get more nobles. Maybe not straight away, but their children, or their children's children will be just like the others. Take a noble from the nobility?” Father paused for a moment, grunting as he cut the buck’s heart free. “You get something broken, forever floundering for the trappings they’ve lost.”

Kaius rolled his eyes. Outside of training, Father said a dozen words on a good day, but get him on a rant…

“That still doesn’t explain what I should do if I’m unlucky to catch one on a bad day.”

Father sighed, and sat back onto his heels as he buried his knife tip first in the bloody dirt.

“Fine,” Father said, turning to skewer him with his piercing emerald eyes that were half-hidden behind his thick brown hair. “The truth is you’re fucked unless you’re Silver and have some semblance of backing — a member of the Guild in good standing or some such. Even then, it’s tenuous. You’ve got to mirror their arrogance and audacity. I recommend punching them in the throat and then demanding an apology for dirtying your fists. You do it privately, because perception is the root of their pride, and then you give them a way out — some paper thin narrative that it was all some big misunderstanding that can be pinned on two people of equal status failing to recognise each other.”

Kaius had hoped for advice that was a little less extreme.

“That’s it?” he said, one brow arched.

“That’s it, boy. Just know you’ll inevitably become a curiosity. Decide for yourself if that’s better than just gutting the bastards and hiding the bodies. That’s the other reason to do it somewhere private.”

Kaius blinked, swallowing a knot of…something that rose in his throat. He hadn’t thought of that conversation in a long time.

Come to think of it, it was strange how much of that had shaped his goals after Morton’s fateful ambush. His maniacal focus on reaching Silver, and the work he’d done with the guild.

More than that, it was suddenly very bloody clear who Father had been referring to when he’d mentioned taking the noble out of the nobility. Gods, how had he missed that one. Too busy being a smarmy prick by half to pick up on the hints dangled in front of his nose.

“Kaius?” Porkchop asked, stepping a little closer.

Looking up, Kaius noticed his friends were watching him with small frowns of concern.

“Sorry,” Kaius said, giving them a half-hearted smile as he squashed the complicated mess of feelings boiling in his chest. “Got a little lost in some memories. Father had…opinions about the nobility. That ploy was one of his suggestions.”

That, it seemed, was enough of an explanation for his friends. Thank the gods. Their chatter drifted into another lull as they made their way deeper into Baanswell.

Kaius focused on their goals as he balled a fist in Porkchop’s fur and rode out the familiar ache of his loss.

Guildhall and lodgings, he could manage that.