Delve - 136: Focus
Author: SenescentSoul

136: Focus - Delve | Royal Road

Ameliah woke to the scratching of a quill.

Immediately, memory crashed into her, and she forced her breathing to remain slow and even. If she was alive, the only reasonable explanation was that she’d been captured. She dared not hope that Tallheart had been able to save them. He had said many times that he was not a fighter.

She’d underestimated them. Severely.

If I got any of them killed… If I got him killed…

The sudden upwelling of emotion was destabilizing her breathing, and she quickly clamped down on that line of thought. No. I can’t think about that right now. Deep, even breaths, Ameliah. I can torture myself for my own stupidity later.

Mercifully, the quill had continued through her distress. Whoever was writing didn’t seem to have noticed.

As she regained control of herself, details began filtering in through her senses. Firstly, she was in a bed. Her connection to the Earth was muted but still present, meaning that she’d been raised only a short distance above the ground. The mattress was soft, and the heavy blankets warm. The air, too, was comfortable against her skin.

Amazingly, she was in no pain, not even from the heightened sensitivity that would come with being healed. She HAD been healed; that much was clear. With the level of system integration she’d reached, she didn’t need something as clunky as a menu to instantly know that her health was at full. Likewise, she didn’t need a clock to tell that it had been almost a day and a half since she’d gone down. It was currently around midnight. Whatever those arrows had been, the blood-draining effect had been powerful. She had to fight off a shudder as she recalled the horrible…suction.

By any measure, she should have been dead.

There was a pause in the scratching of the quill, and she forced herself not to stiffen.

Did I give myself away?

After an anxious moment of silence, the quill continued once more.

Is it him? Is it the archer?

Ameliah’s heartbeat was climbing, but she forced herself to remain still. It doesn’t matter if it’s him. I couldn’t handle him at my best. I certainly can’t handle him right now. He didn’t kill me, which means… Shit.

Seeing with her ears was something that she’d never quite gotten the hang of, but she could tell that she was inside. The sound of the quill echoed slightly, though it was muted. That meant carpeting, or perhaps tapestries on the walls. Her perception accolade was helping, but not enough for her to determine more than that. The stillness in the air was a bigger clue, as well as the warmth. Though…if it’s a fireplace, I should feel warmer on one side… Magic? Just good insulation?

Other than the sound of the blood in her ears and the scratching of the quill, all was silent.

Depths... This is bad.

Taking yet another slow breath, Ameliah began focusing on controlling her heart rate. She would keep pretending for as long as possible while she recovered her strength. She might even switch out a skill or two like she should have done days before. Damn it.

There was one thing she could do with the skills she had now, however.

The connection formed, and it was all she could do not to melt into the mattress with relief. If the spell connected, it meant the recipient was alive.

[Rain, I’m—]

There was a sharp snap of a breaking quill. “Ameliah!”

Ameliah’s breath caught as she recognized the voice. Her eyes flew open, and she saw stars. The ceiling was glass—large, flawless panels, supported by thin metal beams.

“Ameliah, I’m here,” Rain said, his face rushing into view. “Are you hurt? How do you feel?”

“Confused,” Ameliah said, blinking again as he knelt at her bedside. “Rain…” She began to sit up, then hissed as her soulstrain revealed itself at last.

“Relax, you’re in the camp,” Rain said, reaching out but stopping with his fingers just short of her arm. He grimaced. “Shit. Don’t get up. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Ameliah shook her head, fighting through the discomfort as she forced herself into a sitting position. The room, she now saw, was one that she had made. However, it had been transformed. The earthen walls had been decorated with blankets, and a layer of furs carpeted the floor. Rather than a curtained archway, a proper wooden door had been fit snugly into one wall.

There was furniture. The bed, of course, but also a desk, a folding screen, and even a few potted plants. The light came from a pair of light bulbs set into opposite walls and guarded by linen shades. There was also an unlit oil lamp on the desk.

“I cozied it up a bit,” Rain said, sounding embarrassed. “Luckily, there was enough glass cooling for me to finish the ceiling. How’s the bed? Is the soulstrain bad? I told Mlem to get something as soft as pos—“

“Rain,” Ameliah said, stopping him. “What happened?”

Rain let his hovering hand fall to the edge of the bed, a tortured expression flashing across his face before he forced it into a mask. “The Crimson Swords are dead.”

Ameliah didn’t relax. Rain wasn’t done speaking yet, and his tone…

“I used everything I had against Hegar,” he said, looking down. “It wasn’t enough. I ran out of mana. Anton burned your wounds shut after you passed out, then dragged you over to where Hegar had me pinned. The company tried to help us, but Hegar kept them at bay by threatening to kill me. Things…devolved. It came to a head when Dozer got free and threw himself at Hegar.” Rain took a deep breath, then closed his eyes. “Hegar killed him.”

“Oh, Rain,” Ameliah said, reaching out to take his hand. That’s horrible…but… “Was anyone else hurt, or…”

“No,” Rain said. “When Dozer died, it hurt so much that I passed out. It was like the obelisk all over again. Samson says that Hegar thought the company was mocking him. He was going to kill everyone, Ameliah, but Tallheart got there just in time. He killed Hegar without warning, then hunted down Anton and ended him. He won’t tell me the details, but I can imagine what happened. I’ve known he has been hiding his strength, but the way the others described him, he was…terrifying.”

Ameliah worked her jaw. “What about the mage? Did I kill him?”

“No,” Rain said, shaking his head. “You didn’t kill him, but he’s dead all the same.”

“Then, did Tallheart—?”

“No, well…” Rain closed his eyes, looking away. “No. Vanna and the others captured Brovose, but it was too dangerous to keep him, so…” Rain took a deep breath. “I ordered his execution. Tallheart killed him, but I am the one responsible. Me.”

The pain in his voice felt like a knife to the gut, overriding the surprise she felt at what he’d just said. She squeezed his hand gently, and the physical pain helped push the metaphysical away. “Rain, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I just…”

She stopped, taking a moment to collect her thoughts while Rain remained painfully silent.

“Please, let me explain,” she said, trying to hold herself together for his sake. “I know you won’t forgive me, but I want you to understand. I only did what I thought was right. We had to show our strength, or they would have kept coming back. Remember what I told you. I traveled with them for four days before we found you, and they weren’t the type to let something like this go. Hegar was prideful. Arrogant. Plus, with what Lana said and what they did to Stint…”

Still, Rain remained silent, and she continued in a rush. He has to understand. He has to. “I didn’t think it was possible that I’d lose, not against bronzeplates. Please believe me. If I’d known they were that strong, I’d have been better prepared. I’d never have—”

“Stop,” Rain said. “It wasn’t your fault.” He opened his eyes, finally meeting her gaze. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. If I’d trusted you and not held back like you’d asked, we might have been able to win. You were right about them, Ameliah, but it was even worse than you thought. They were plate hunters. That’s why we lost.”

She breathed in sharply as he said this. Seemingly on their own, her thoughts flashed back to her brief journey with Hegar’s group. To one moment in particular. Anton, staring at her over the fire with a hunger in his eyes.

At the time, she’d interpreted it as lust, all too common in her experience as an adventurer. Now, to her growing horror, she realized it had been something else entirely. It felt as if the floor had dropped out from beneath her.

They were evaluating me! The third night on the road, Brovose asked me to share stories from any lairs I’d explored. I’d already decided I wanted nothing to do with them at that point, so I told them to mind their own business. Hegar wouldn’t drop it, though, so I told him I’d never been in one. If I hadn’t lied… They might have…

Rain’s grip on her hand tightened, bringing her attention back to him. “You couldn’t have known. Don’t blame yourself.” He shook his head. “We were lucky this time. We have to learn from it, Ameliah, so it never happens again. We have to do better. We have to be better.”

Against her will, Ameliah let out a small gasp. In her hypersensitive state, Rain’s grip had become crushing.

He immediately released her, horror flashing across his face. “Shit! I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Ameliah said. Then, despite knowing how much it was going to hurt, she pushed herself forward to wrap him in a hug. Rain stiffened but quickly returned the embrace. She took solace in the pain, knowing that she deserved much worse. “I’m sorry about Dozer,” she whispered, squeezing as tightly as she dared.

“Me too,” Rain said, pressing his neck against hers. “Me too…” Ameliah felt a tremor run through her, and she realized that Rain was crying. That was all it took to shake the tears loose from her own eyes. The two of them stayed like that for several minutes, weeping softly against each other until they finally got themselves back under control.

“Thank you,” Rain said softly, releasing her. “If you had died, I… don’t think I could have… I can’t lose anyone else, Ameliah. I just can’t.”

“I…” Ameliah said, then sniffed to cover her hesitation. Just say it. “I feel the same way.” She shook her head, looking down at her lap. “Now do you see why I don’t like getting attached?”

Rain smiled wetly as he nodded. “I’ve always understood. It’s worth it, though. It’s better than being alone.”

She met his gaze, smiling back. “Yes.”

A few hours later, Rain was in his old room, sitting at a desk. Ameliah was asleep next door, safe and warm. That room would become their new bedroom, leaving this one to become his captain’s office. It was freezing cold due to the lack of ceiling, and the walls were bare save for a single naked bulb. He didn’t even have a lamp for backup if the power went out.

None of that mattered. What mattered was what lay on the desktop—numerous piles of papers, each perfectly neat and aligned.

One of the piles was the entirety of the codes as approved by the company, there for reference, though he didn’t really need it. The next stack was taller, the beginnings of his new version with numerous modifications and additions. The pile after that was work orders for the board, and the one after THAT was a collection of schematics—one of which was for a ballpoint pen.

The damn quill he was being forced to use was driving him insane, but he refused to use pencil, not for anything that was going to be final.

The largest pile by far was that of all his discarded sheets. It was just as orderly as the others, however. The smudged or otherwise ruined pages were stacked flat and uncrumpled. They could be re-used. Myth had an alchemical process for breaking down ink and removing it from paper, something Rain had yet to manage with Purify.

The height of that pile was proof of just how long Rain had been at this. He’d started after finishing with Ameliah’s room as a way to keep his mind occupied. The more he’d worked, the more he’d realized just how much further he had to go. There was just so much to do.

He had been shirking his duties for too long, though perhaps ‘shirking’ wasn’t the best term. No, he’d been doing things, but not the right way. He needed to create a proper structure for running the company, rather than just leave everything to Vanna while he got distracted. That could not continue.

Vanna had been doing admirably, it was true, but she was only one person. There was simply too much, and besides that, her leadership experience came from running a work crew. She didn’t know how to steer something this big. Rain did, or rather, he had access to the knowledge. There was a pretty big difference there—one that he was playing catchup to overcome.

If he was to leave, he needed to ensure that the company wouldn’t fall apart. That meant the codes had to be rock solid. Orderly. Further, he needed to structure things so he remained in control without having to do everything himself. That meant hierarchy.

The captain was the leader, master of all. The quartermaster was second in command, responsible for managing the company’s resources—both supplies and people. Below that would come the councils: administration, logistics, engineering, education, justice, and defense.

At the moment, his focus was on the second to last.

Ascension was to have judges—three of them, separate from the offices of captain and quartermaster. That separation wasn’t because he was afraid of a repeat of the Brovose situation. Such matters would remain within the captain’s purview. Instead, the judges would handle internal matters—disputes over the codes, punishments for infractions, and so forth. As captain, he could overrule them, though he would refrain from doing so unless absolutely necessary. He was setting people up to understand the benefits of separation of powers without actually giving up any power yet. That could come later, once people were ready.

For now, he would work within the framework he had created. He had been a fool to think that he could just do democracy without understanding how it worked. How power worked. He would never again lose focus on the rules for rulers.

Rule One: Get the keys to power on your side.

Rule Two: Control the treasure.

Rule Three: Minimize key supporters.

Rain frowned, dipping his quill back into the inkwell. The third rule was particularly distasteful. He would respect it, though. He would have to unless he wanted his company to break free of his control.

The new provisional members can’t vote. They don’t matter. I will see them treated well, but they can’t be my focus. My keys are Ameliah, Tallheart, Vanna, and then the full members, with the awakened and unawakened as the two major voting blocs. I need to keep them all happy without letting myself become a tyrant.

Rain shook his head. I would be lost without CGP Grey.

He frowned as he considered the subject of political philosophy once more, his quill scratching across the page independently of his thoughts. The Prince had been the first thing that had come to mind upon searching his memory for help. Unfortunately, other than the odd quote or two, he could recall almost nothing of Machiavelli’s signature work on the merits of professional assholery—or the downfalls, depending on your interpretation.

Recovering a book he’d read was possible, he knew. He’d been doing it on and off with The Hobbit for weeks now, intent on reading it to Ameliah once he finished. It took a ridiculous amount of effort, however, and that was for a book he actually liked. The Prince would be incalculably more difficult, as would The Republic, The Art of War, and that random collection of John Locke essays. Like most of the things he’d been forced to read throughout his education, he’d actively loathed all of them at the time. Now, he wished he’d paid more attention.

He needed more help than a recovered YouTube video and some snippets on ethics from The Good Place could provide.

Trust and goodwill only get me so far. If not for Tallheart and Ameliah backing me... He shook his head. I need to do better, even if I have to be a bit of an asshole to do it. Rule zero: Without power, you can affect nothing.

Rain frowned as an errant drop of ink ruined the page he was working on. No, not ruined. It’s just a small spot.

With some effort, he forced himself to ignore it and continue copying from his interface. He’d been alternating between using his word-processor and a quill, only using the latter once he was completely satisfied with what he wanted to say. For this page, at least, he thought he had everything how he wanted it. It was simply a matter of writing it out.

The scratch of the quill was the only sound as he worked. He’d ordered the watchers on the walls to keep quiet unless a dangerous monster was spotted. Ameliah needed her rest, even if he was to have none.

He had tried to sleep. Really, he had. He’d brought his bedroll into Ameliah’s room and everything, moving this desk in here to make space. Both of them were still extremely sensitive, and not in a good way. Sharing the bed was out of the question for the moment, even though it was large enough. It wasn’t a lack of comfort that had left him staring numbly at the stars. It was what he’d found waiting for him behind his eyelids.

The face of the man that he’d sentenced to die.

The judgment in his expression.

The hole where Dozer’s happiness had been and the remnants of the link that made it impossible to forget.

Rain’s eye twitched.

He set down his quill, then picked up the sheet, staring at the damn splotch. He couldn’t ignore it after all. He’d have to start again.

Setting it neatly with the others in the discard pile, he replaced it with a blank page. Before reaching for the quill again, he bumped up his Focus to forty past the cap and activated Essence Well, sending a few thousand mana to himself.

That would cause some mild soulstrain, he knew.

That was the point.

It was still mostly dark when the first notes of the morning bugle rolled over Rain’s walls, making him look up from his work. He’d closed his HUD, not wanting the clock as a distraction. Clearly, it had worked.

He narrowed his eyes, then looked back down at the page he was working on. This one wasn’t a part of the codes. Instead, it was a drawing. He’d spent more time reading blueprints than making them, but anyone could draft a building—or encampment in this case—given access to a ruler and with sufficient attention to detail.

I need to finish this so Ameliah can get started today. More recruits are coming. I can feel it.

He dipped the quill.

I’m not stopping now. I can’t.

The next interruption didn’t come until almost twenty minutes later—movement from the curtain blocking his door. He looked up as Tarny’s face poked in. Good, I can get him started on some of this. He beckoned. “Come in, Tarny. Just a moment while I dimension this wall.”

He moved his ruler, scraping the nib of his quill along its edge. It took him three trips back to the inkwell to complete the stroke to his satisfaction, as he was being exceedingly cautious about drips. Once the line was in place, he added in the number specifying the distance, then moved to the other side of the page to work elsewhere while the fresh ink dried. Once he finished this blueprint, he needed to write out a new version of the accolade pamphlet, and after that—

Tarny coughed politely.

Rain paused, then grimaced. Oops.

Focus soulstrain was dangerous. It helped him order his thoughts immensely, but the tunnel vision was just as much of a problem as his normal attention issues. He sighed, lowering his quill. “Tarny, sorry. Good morning.” He wiped the nib on a scrap of cloth, then Purified the stain into oblivion. That worked, at least. Something about ink belonging on paper, but not on a rag.

“Good morning…” Tarny said. “Captain…are you alright? Did you even sleep?”

“No, I didn’t,” Rain said, raising a hand. “Yes, I should have. I tried. It didn’t work.”

“Captain, you need to recover. You can’t push yourself like this, not right after being injured.”

Rain frowned, running through a Detection sequence. “You’re right, Tarny. I am fully aware that I’m being pigeon-headed.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, then let his hand fall to the desk. “I’ll rest soon, don’t worry. Can you please go get Vanna, Tallheart, Ameliah, and Romer, then come back here with them? We need to talk.” He gestured to the piles covering the table. “I’ve made a little progress on the codes, and I’d like to review it with all of you. After that, I need to give a speech.”

“I… Yes, Captain,” Tarny said, though he clearly wanted to argue.

Rain smiled. Good man. “Thank you for worrying about me, Tarny. Tallheart is in the workshop, and the rest of them are in the tavern. I’m surprised they’re not already in here to check on me. Oh, since you’re going that way, would you mind bringing me back a cup of coffee, please? Black.”

“That depends…” Tarny said, narrowing his eyes. “How much have you already had?”

“Uh…none. Why?”

Tarny just looked at him.

“Okay, maybe I had a cup or two,” Rain lied. It was easier than telling the truth.

“Captain—“

“I know, Tarny, I know. Please. Just get everyone so you can all tell me I’m stupid at once.”

“Fine,” Tarny said, shaking his head as he turned to leave. “But no more coffee. I don’t even know how you can drink that stuff, especially without milk and honey.”

Milk and honey? Rain shuddered, returning to his drawing. Heresy.

Common Knowledge: Accolades
3060-10-01
This informational pamphlet is a publication of Ascension. The Common Knowledge series is intended to provide an overview of various topics. Some background information and descriptions of experimental procedures have therefore been omitted.
The facts presented here have been verified to whatever extent possible as of the date of publication above.
This document may be copied and distributed freely, provided that no modification is made to the content or to this notice.
An accolade is hereby defined as the system-granted reward for destroying a lair. The underlying reason for this system behavior is not known, should any underlying reason exist.
According to reports and firsthand experience, an accolade is granted to all party members upon core destruction, provided that certain conditions are met. These conditions have yet to be experimentally determined, but in the typical case of a fully-awakened party, up to eight people may receive the reward. Refer to Common Knowledge: Awakening and Common Knowledge: Parties for more information.
Physically, accolades appear as metallic plates bearing, at minimum, the name of the origin lair. The color of the metal indicates the elemental alignment. Upon binding, the effect of the accolade is revealed and appears below the lair name. If unbound for any reason, the effect description will be hidden again.
Note: A comprehensive overview of the concept of the soul is not available in the Common Knowledge series, and the term ‘soul’ is used without definition. A summary of the pertinent facts regarding accolades and the soul is provided here:
To be used, an accolade must be both bound (tied to the soul), as well as slotted (equipped).
Accolades bind immediately upon core destruction.
Once bound, the physical plate may be dismissed, at which point it will vanish.
Accolades may be re-manifested with an effort of will.
Accolades will also manifest automatically upon the death of the holder.
Plate hunting is punishable by death.
A manifested accolade typically remains bound until:
It is deliberately unbound.
It is touched by another individual.
The owner dies.
Binding and unbinding is subject to will, though the effect varies from person to person.
As an example, for some, accolades unbind automatically when dropped and may only be kept bound with an effort of will. For others the opposite is true. In both cases, once out of contact, will is not required to maintain the binding.
A full discussion on this effect is beyond the scope of the Common Knowledge series.
There is no limitation on physical distance between the holder and a manifested accolade.
Some accolade holders use this mechanism as a defense against plate hunters and to otherwise preserve their inheritance. However, leaving accolades manifested allows the possibility of theft. For this reason, the practice is not common. Further, coercion remains a concern, as it is possible for the plate holder to summon a previously manifested accolade, regardless of distance.
A person may bind an unlimited number of accolades.
A person may only slot a limited number of accolades at one time.
The number of available slots is equal to one plus the individual’s level.
Stronger accolades require more than one slot.
The slotting process is automatic unless a person possesses more accolades than they can use, at which point the system will typically provide an interface.
It is not known at this time whether it is possible for an individual to deliberately unslot an accolade without unbinding it in the case where excess slots are available.
Classification
Accolades are categorized according to element, tier, and grade.
Element influences the type of bonus granted by the accolade. Some bonuses, such as extra health, can come from any element, while others, such as resistances, are significantly more common from accolades of a matching element. A full list of boosts and probabilities by element is not available at this time.
Tier refers to the number of accolade slots required to use the accolade. In general, Tier-1 accolades are said to drop from lairs under rank 10, Tier-2 from lairs under rank 20, and so forth. It is not known at this time whether this is due to probability or an absolute rule.
Grade refers to the quality of the buff, and it is largely convention rather than a property defined by the system. It uses the same terminology as classes: common, uncommon, rare, and legendary.
Accolades come in two main types: single-use and permanent.
Single-Use Accolades
Single-use accolades, also called voucher accolades, may be redeemed for a reward by the accolade holder. It is not known at this time whether any special restrictions exist regarding voucher redemption, including the effect of the accolade tier.
Common rewards include Tel, Crysts, and raw materials. Significantly less common rewards have been reported, such as magical items and respecialization effects.
A full reward table is not available at this time.
Permanent Accolades
Permanent accolades, also called true accolades, provide the holder with a buff, similar to magical equipment. Flat boosts to attributes, vitals, and resistances are common. Multiplicative boosts are rare, as are skill grants and unique effects.
A full reward table is not available at this time.
Rumors, Speculation, and Conflicting Information
Accolade bonuses stack without limit.
Accolades are physically indestructible.
Accolades allow you to exceed the resistance cap.
Accolades can be combined.
Accolades break down if unbound for too long.
Accolades can be manipulated or stolen with a hidden skill.
Accolades decrease synchronization.
Accolades do not cause soulstrain.
Accolade quality is improved by clearing a lair with a smaller party.
This is dangerous. See Common Knowledge: Lairs
Additional accolade slots can be acquired without leveling.
Single-use accolades are valued based upon the stated reward, while permanent accolades are valued depending on the quality of the bonus. Due to the high value and wide variability of accolades, they are typically only traded by auction. Refer to Common Knowledge: The City of Lights.
The following is a rough appraisal method for permanent accolades of tier-three and lower, based upon element, tier, and grade.
Price = BasePrice * ElementalFactor * Tier * Grade
Start with a base price of 1 GranTel for accolades with common bonuses.
Uncommon accolades, such as those that grant skills, should be assigned a higher base price or appraised outside of this system.
An accolade’s element influences its value only when the buff is aligned with that element.
As an example, one thousand health has the same intrinsic value, whether it comes from a Heat accolade or an Arcane one. Ten Arcane resistance, however, is forty times more valuable than ten Heat resistance, given the relative scarcity of the element and the high demand.
Refer to Common Knowledge: Elements for more information on element abundance.
For non-elementally aligned bonuses, omit the element from the calculation.
Numerical weightings for grade are:
Common → 1
Uncommon → 2
Rare → 3
Legendary → 4+
A more accurate appraisal method may exist:
For example, one could divide the numerical boost by the number of slots required. The result could then be compared to similar accolades to determine a relative valuation. This method would require an extensive database of accolades, which is not available to Ascension at this time.
Accolades are a powerful asset for any individual, but that power comes with danger.
Never reveal specific information about any accolades in your possession or in the possession of others where you may be overheard by those you do not trust with your life.
Keep it secret. Keep it safe.

A hush fell over the tavern as Rain climbed the stairs to the newly-constructed stage. Ameliah had built it a few hours ago, but it looked like it had been there forever. She’d raised several huge chunks of dark rock, then molded them together with the stone tables and benches, clearing the room in the process. She hadn’t stopped until it was all one piece, though a few sweeping lines where different types of stone had been melted together remained—proof of its supernatural origin.

Rain hadn’t wanted her to spend mana on something as simple as a place for him to stand, not when there was so much work to do on the camp, but after seeing the result, he’d changed his mind. It had been worth it. It would be useful in the future, and the impressive construction could do nothing but add to his authority for this address.

That was also the intent behind the clothes he was wearing in place of his forceweave—a clean blue shirt with brass buttons and a pair of dark linen pants. Nothing fancy, but the fabric was new and of high quality. Mlem had taken his measurements this morning, then made a special trip to the city to visit a tailor. Rain needed to look respectable for this, not like a hobo in long underwear. The outfit was completed by a pair of black leather boots, plus his white Ascension cloak. It was the equivalent to what a commoner might wear to a wedding, Mlem said, which suited Rain just fine. Some amount of formality was called for here, but not so much that it looked like he was pretending to be a noble.

Walking to the center of the stage, he turned to face the crowd, ignoring his throbbing headache. It was approaching three in the afternoon, and he still hadn’t slept. This couldn’t wait until tomorrow, though, no matter how much Tarny was clucking over him like a mother hen. What he had to say was too important. He needed to deal with this now, and Ameliah and Tallheart agreed. The longer he delayed, the worse it would become.

There were exactly fifty people present in the tavern below him—every full member of Ascension, not including himself. They were seated in neat rows of uncomfortably-mismatched chairs, except Tallheart, who was leaning against the wall, leaving his chair empty.

Rain was getting a lot of work out of Mlem today. There was a limit to what he could do on short notice, though, barring access to a discount furniture warehouse. Even getting this many chairs transported from the city in the space of a morning was a minor mercantile miracle. The mustachioed merchant had gone door to door, asking people to sell the contents of their living rooms.

Some of the chairs were stools, while others had ladder backs, arms, or rockers. Some were fancy affairs, with carvings and decorations, but the majority were plain. There were many different trees represented by the wood. Pine, birch, the one that he was pretty sure was elm, oak—

Realizing that his thoughts had snagged, Rain nudged them back to the subject at hand. Overfocus was becoming less and less effective as the day wore on, the side effects starting to outpace the benefits. He knew he’d be fine once he got going with his speech, as he’d planned it out completely. It was letting his mind wander that was the danger. Once off track, it tended to get stuck there.

He cleared his throat, and the last of the scattered conversations died away.

“Thank you, everyone,” he said, clasping his hands in front of himself. “I’ve asked you to gather here so that I can make some important announcements. As you’ve probably figured out by the fact that I sent everyone else back to the city, this conversation is for full members only. More than that, though, I am ordering you not to discuss anything I am about to say with anyone once we are done here, including each other. This goes beyond mere secrecy. The term is ‘operational security’. I will fully define this for you later. For now, it means that there are certain things that we will not speak of out in the open, not where there is any possibility that we will be overheard. Ever. Always ask yourself: who might be listening?” Rain gestured. “And on that note, Tarny, go ahead.”

Tarny nodded from his position in the back of the room. He reached into a bag and removed a handful of the small pink pellets that they’d found in Hegar’s belongings, then tossed them into one of the hearths. The flames swiftly took on a pinkish tinge, and white smoke began curling through the room. The smoke would fade once all of the moisture was baked away, but the protection it offered would remain for as long as the smell did. Rain knew this because he’d enlisted Ruce to help him test one of the pellets earlier. It had worked as expected, blocking Eavesdrop completely in the protected area, at least at the level of power Ruce could put into the spell.

Rain watched silently as Tarny walked down the line of hearths, adding more pellets to each one as he went. It was a big room, so it would be better to be safe than sorry. Coughing and mutters of discontent followed the smoke’s spread through the room, and Rain smiled at some of the more colorful reactions.

Those things are worse than the damn scented candle aisle of a gift shop.

Once he was satisfied that the room was fully saturated by the floral stench, he cleared his throat again, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “That should shield us from Divination magic, especially at a distance. Sorry about the smell. Awful, isn’t it?”

Taking on a more serious expression, he raised his hand with his palm facing the crowd. “Let’s get to it, shall we? I have several things I want to talk about today.” He closed his hand, leaving one finger elevated. “First, I will now share the entirety of what happened with the Crimson Swords, starting from my initial encounter with them months ago, up until now.”

With that, Rain launched into the tale, reciting his prepared summary from memory. He’d reviewed the narrative with both Ameliah and Tallheart, and it was as accurate as he could make it. There was no embellishment, though he glossed over the very beginning. People generally knew by now the story of how he’d appeared in the forest, though obviously not where he’d come from. He’d only retold that part to provide background on the type of adventurers that the Crimson Swords had been.

When he was finished, he frowned slightly, then pointed to Kettel, the first of several people who’d raised a hand while he’d been speaking. “Yes?”

“That’s quite the story, Rain,” Kettel said, getting to his feet. “It’s jus… there’s this one bit in the beginnin’ that’s botherin’ me.” He grinned. “Did ye really not know better’n lightin’ a Slime on fire?”

Scattered laughter broke out at this, and Rain snorted. “You know I didn’t, Kettel. Sit down. You can stop bringing that up any time.” He shook his head. “Please, everyone, stay on topic.” He pointed again. “Jamus, you have a question?”

Jamus stood. “No, not a question. I just wanted to add that the Crimson Swords showed up in the Guild for the first time about a month before you did. There was some discussion among the regulars back then, and we think they came from somewhere in the DKE. They stood out, and not in a good way.”

Rain nodded as Jamus sat back down. “Thank you, Jamus. That helps.” He pointed to Mahria next, as it looked like she was about to explode if he didn’t. “Yes, Mahria?”

“What are you planning on doing with the accolades?” she asked, barely even waiting for his acknowledgment.

A murmur ran through the crowd, many hands falling. Rain nodded, having anticipated this question. “Good segue, Mahria. That is the second thing I wanted to discuss.” He paused, pulsing Detection at maximum range to verify that nobody had crept up on them. Satisfied, he continued. “Between the three of them, the Crimson Swords had acquired ninety-three plates in total.”

After a moment of stunned silence, the room exploded into chaos. Rain had been fully expecting this as well. He raised his hands for quiet, intent on waiting it out. After thirty seconds passed, however, he lost his patience.

“QUIET!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, regretting it immediately. His throat had been more than happy to inform him that, yes, he was indeed still suffering from soulstrain. His shout did have the intended effect, however, cutting off most of the noise immediately.

“Ninety-three accolades,” Rain croaked once the silence had fully returned. He coughed lightly, then rubbed at his throat. I’m gonna be feeling that one for a while. Pushing through the pain easily, he made his voice firm and clear once more. “By now, all of you should have read through one of the updated pamphlets I sent around this morning. Thus, I’m not going to explain the mechanics of accolades here. Be thankful. Instead, I’m simply going to read out the list, including the valuations that I have assigned to each one. Once that’s done, I’ll tell you what we’re doing with them.”

Excited whispers had started up, but Rain ignored them. He looked directly at the center of the crowd. “Certain people,” he said loudly, “would be very unhappy with me if I didn’t read this list, but that’s not why I’m doing it. I’m sharing this information because I believe in transparency. As members, you need to know what resources we have available to us, both now and for the future. With that said, please, no interruptions until I’m finished. And remember, no writing this down or talking about it later.”

Ignoring the excited fidgeting of the crowd, he summoned a window, pinged once more with Detection, then began to read.

The Ice Cavern
+20Strength
Blackfoot Trench
The Halls of Corruption
The Fire Well
+5Recovery
Snow Sprite Lair
+5Endurance
Badlands Cold Lair3060 1 4
+3Endurance
Nerek’s Point
The Fire Fields
+3Recovery
The Bottomless Well
Oh Gods!Not Another Chem Lair!
The Icy Cellar
+500Health
The Solar Temple
+200Stamina
Sharpton’s Delving
+200S.Regen/day
+200M.Regen/day
The Shifting Sands
+100Stamina
The Pride of Eker
+100Health
The Everburn
+100S.Regen/day
The Gravel Pit
+50H.Regen/day
The Lair of Embers
We Can’t Just Call It‘The Lair’
Raining Fire Cave
The Dunch Pit
Badlands Heat Lair3059 3 8
Frost Hollow
The Sunken Arena
Badlands Cold Lair3040 11 24
Burrik’s Abode
Soften Steps
50% stronger grip when climbing
The Winter Tomb
Cold does not cause discomfort
The Broken Fields
25Force Crysts
Hollow Gate
25Heat Crysts

When he was finished, he dismissed the window, then chuckled as he swept his gaze across the room. The reactions had been a sight to behold. At first, each new accolade had sent a wave of excitement rippling through the crowd like a boulder dropped into a pond. As the list had gone on, however, that excitement had faded, replaced with stupefied silence.

After leaving them to digest for a moment, Rain clapped his hands, breaking the spell. “So, that’s the list. Before I move on to the implications, was anyone adding up the total value?”

A few hands went up, but before Rain could call on anyone, Carten lurched to his feet.

He waved a hand over his head, staring intently at his other one, counting on his thick fingers. “Wait! I’ve almost got it!”

“Sure you do,” Staavo said sarcastically, grinning when this got him a few laughs.

“Ha!” Carten shouted, snapping his fingers. He puffed out his chest as he planted his hands on his hips. “Four hundred eighty-three thousand eight hundred twenty-five Tel.”

Silence spread across the room as faces turned to Rain for confirmation.

Rain blinked. Then he blinked again. “That’s…right. Good work, Carten. Have ten credits.”

“Yeah!” Carten roared, pumping his fist in the air. He pointed at Staavo. “In yer face!”

Rain smiled at Carten’s use of the expression he’d taught him, then raised his voice to keep things moving. “I realize that this sum is too big for most of you to visualize. It certainly was for me, so here is a comparison that I came up with to help. As far as I am aware, the going rate for a decent house in Fel Sadanis outside of the hill district was around fifty silver. At fourteen copper to the Tel, these accolades would be enough to buy more than a thousand such homes.”

Rain smiled, picturing gears silently turning inside heads as the crowd checked his math.

“Fucking—fuck!” Mollo finally swore, breaking the spell.

Rain smiled. It was telling that Mollo wasn’t able to come up with a more creative curse. The relatively low property value in the city—or perhaps the world—helped things, but still. Accolades were expensive. If anything, Rain felt he’d been conservative in his estimates. The sum was enough that it would completely break Ascension’s credit system, but that was a problem he’d scheduled for tomorrow after the logistics council had been formed.

“A few last things,” he said, “First, you might have noticed that a few of the accolades had some peculiar names.”

There were a few chuckles at this, and Rain clenched his fists. I will NOT spread The Game to this dimension. I refuse.

Shaking his head, he continued, adopting a more serious expression. “Recall that it is the first group that discovers a lair that assigns the name. I’ve experienced this myself, though I don’t know all the details of how it works. Anyway, setting aside how silly some adventurers can be for the moment, there is something important to notice in this list.

“In case you weren’t aware, the Watch always names lairs the same way, listing the location, element, and date. The Crimson Swords had several accolades named in that manner, and this is yet more evidence of plate hunting. The Watch does not sell accolades, nor do they tolerate them on the open market. As a Custodian, I feel that it is my duty to return these plates to the Watch, and that is a duty that I intend to fulfill. However, the nearest stronghold is in Fel Sadanis, and as we have no intention of going back there, they are ours to use for the moment.”

He nodded to himself, not waiting for the crowd’s reaction. “Also, there are the duplicates to consider. For bronzeplate Guilders, any permanent accolade is essentially priceless. While specialized equipment might provide a greater boost, it can be equally expensive, if not more, unless you happen to be friends with the world’s best smith.” Rain nodded at Tallheart, getting another chuckle or two out of the crowd. “It also requires maintenance,” he continued. “Accolades do not. Only in extreme circumstances would most people sell one.

“If you are buying accolades, on the other hand, it makes much more sense to purchase a single tier-two rather than several tier-ones, due to the nature of the scaling. For this reason, full sets are considered a sure sign of plate hunting, or at least, a sign of having discovered a fallen party.” Rain sighed, running a hand through his hair. “One full set, I would believe, but two? And with the Watch accolades on top of it?” He shook his head. “Not likely.”

He raised his hands, sensing that the crowd was getting restless. “Anyway, I’m not trying to justify my decision to you. I’m well past that point. I just want to make it clear what having all of these accolades means. There are implications, particularly if the full list becomes known. One day, Ascension, too, might be accused of plate hunting, simply for having these.” Rain sliced his hand through the air. “This is why we will NOT discuss it. Not with outsiders. Not with provisional members. Not even with each other without wards to protect us.”

Rain looked over the crowd, which had become deathly silent. He continued, passion creeping into his voice. “My goal is for our organization to be a force for good in this world. A force for change. We must be better than the Watch. Better than the Guild. Certainly better than the Bank. Our character must be beyond reproach, and our reputation unstained. Pure. Even then, that is not enough. We are nowhere near the level of these organizations, and the world is not a safe place for the weak. We must build our strength until we are able to defend ourselves. We have to get stronger. These accolades will help us do that.”

“Yeah!” Carten yelled, clapping. After a moment, a few others joined in, then a few more. Rain raised his hands once more for silence, watching Ameliah in the corner of his eye. She nodded to him encouragingly, bolstering his confidence, and he nodded back. Here we go.

“Now we come to the crux of the matter,” he said, increasing his volume, though the complaints from his throat were becoming hard for even him to ignore any longer. “The codes are not set up to deal with the distribution of these accolades. There are some preliminary rules covering lairs cleared by the company, but nothing for combat against people. The closest thing we have is the provision for unexpected monster encounters while not on company business. The codes state, simply, that everything goes to the party involved. Therefore, as I see it, the accolades belong to Tallheart, Ameliah, and myself, to do with as we please.”

“So give ‘em ta the company then!” Kettel yelled, jumping to his feet. “Share, like ye said ye would! Besides, I helped, didn’t I? I lobbed a Firebolt at ‘em! I should get, like, two for that! At least!”

“Kettel, depths take you, sit down!” Vanna shouted, suddenly pushing herself out of her chair and whirling to stare at him over the heads of the crowd.

Kettel shifted his gaze to her, balling up his fists and opening his mouth, but she cut him off.

“Stop acting like a child,” she snapped.

“Wha?” Kettel shouted back. “Say tha’ again!“

“Sit. Down.” Vanna’s voice was arctic. “Rain isn’t finished yet. Stop interrupting.”

“I gotta right ta’ talk,” Kettel said hotly. “I’m jus’ sayin’ what everyone’s thinkin’.”

“That’s it,” Vanna snapped. “Sit down, or I’m fining you a thousand credits.”

Kettel snorted incredulously. “You can’t do that,” he said, crossing his arms.

“She can, actually,” Rain said forcefully, attempting to regain control. He softened his tone, conveying disappointment. “Kettel. Please.”

“Fine,” Kettel said, dropping back into his seat with a huff.

“Anyway,” Rain said, shaking his head. That kid is a lot of work. He cleared his throat again. “We do intend to share the accolades with the company eventually; however, now is not the time. We have another plan for them. As I said, Ascension is not strong enough to defend itself against the threats we face. Because they were plate hunters, the Crimson Swords were silver level. Other than Ameliah and Tallheart, we are all bronze at best. We need more silverplates. Two are not enough to keep the rest of us safe.”

Rain spread his hands in front of him. “We’re working on it, obviously. Awakening our members is the purpose of Ascension, after all. However, it is going to take time for us to get there. Time we don’t have.” He sighed. “In all honesty, we have been lucky to have done as well as we have so far. This company is barely a month old, and already we have added fifteen new awakened to our midst. Now, with access to the depths, we have the opportunity to awaken many more. We will do this, but it is not going to be nearly as fast as some of you are expecting.”

He paused. “Unless some of us skip the line.” He held out his hand. “What I am proposing is this. Ameliah, Tallheart, and I are going to take these accolades, and we are going to use them to delve. Just the three of us. Where we are going, it will be all that the two of them can do to protect me. Bringing more people is out of the question, let alone a full party. With these accolades, I just might be able to survive long enough for them to get me to silver.” Rain closed his fist. “I will gain the strength required to carry you. That is my promise.”

The reaction of the crowd was mixed. A few people clapped, others cheered, and some looked unsure or even angry. Rain hid his frown as he waited. Eventually, things died down and a single hand went up, though not one that he’d expected.

Rain pointed. “Yes, Meloni?”

She rose, glancing at Jamus, then cleared her throat. “I…don’t like this. What if…what if you get yourself killed?”

A deep rumble stopped Rain before he could reply, and he turned to see Tallheart push himself up from the wall.

“Rain will not die,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I will not allow it.”

“Well, you heard Tallheart, so that’s that,” Ameliah said, clapping her hands as she stood. [Sorry, Rain. I know you didn’t want us to interfere, but enough is enough.]

She lithely hopped up onto the stage, casually spinning in mid-air to land beside him before laying a hand on his shoulder. “Rain is a better person than I am,” she said, addressing the crowd. “He insisted on trying to make you understand, rather than just telling you how it was going to be. We’re doing this. If you have a problem with it, you can direct your complaints to Tallheart.”

Tallheart rumbled. “No. You can not.”

A barking laugh from Carten broke the tension, and then, amazingly, the majority of the room joined him. Ameliah squeezed Rain’s shoulder lightly, and he felt the anxiety drain out of him. “Come on,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

“Hang on a second,” Rain whispered, running through his plan in his mind. “I still need to talk about the equipment we recovered, and then the changes to the codes, and then—Ameliah, that’s starting to hurt.“

Ameliah loosened her grip slightly. “You don’t have to do everything in one day, fluff brain,” she whispered. “You got through the hardest part. Take the win.”

“I…” Rain paused, then smiled. No, she’s right. “Okay.”

“Good,” Ameliah said, as he allowed her to guide him from the stage. “Nice work, by the way. For you, that was a really good speech.”

Rain blinked. “What do you mean, ‘for me’?”