When Robin woke up, he was warm. A small fire flickered cheerily nearby, fed with dried mushrooms. He attempted to prop himself up on his elbow, but his arms were too weak to support his weight. There were notifications flickering at the edges of his vision, but he mentally sidelined them for now.

‘Ah, you’re awake,’ Fiamah said. ‘Would you like some porridge?’

‘Yes please.’ Robin felt like a bottomless pit had opened up in the centre of his stomach and was gnawing at his other internal organs.

Lantha pulled out the spoon and began filling a small crock with porridge. Ora-Jean was standing watch by one of the doors. Grathilde, like him, was laid out next to the fire, moving weakly.

Fiamah reached out, murmuring a prayer, and touched Robin right over the heart. He felt the sun-bright burn of her holy magic, but when the pain passed, he felt noticeably stronger.

‘You’ll probably need a few more days to recover,’ Fiamah said apologetically. ‘I can’t channel enough holy energy to restore both you and Grathilde in a single day.’

‘Thank you,’ Robin said fervently. ‘I feel a lot better already.’

‘Can you sit up and hold this?’ Lantha offered him some breakfast.

Robin accepted his breakfast and began to eat slowly. It took a lot of effort, lifting the food to his mouth. His arms trembled with the exertion, and small beads of sweat appeared at his temples. He had to take regular breaks between every few bites.

To fill the time, he pulled up his character sheet. Ah! His strength score looked different. The regular number was still there, 11, but next to it in brackets was another, much lower number, (4). Some kind of temporary score reflecting the damage the shadow had done? Very probably.

They defeated the shadow though! Which reminded him, he should have a quest completion notice to review. And possibly new level benefits!

Quest Complete! [A Shadow Awakens!]

You have returned the [Shadow of Yvon-Rael] to slumber. Permanently. And you didn’t even die and rise as its shadow-thrall in the process! Good for you!

Reward: You were promised insight, and insight you shall have! Think about those maps while you finish your porridge. Oh, and when you’re next walking through shadows, keep your eye out for the blue lights…

Right. Insight. Blue lights. Apparently it was too much to hope for conveniently-appearing chests or random showers of gold coins. Oh well. One more burden he’d have to bear with great equanimity.

Robin adjusted his coat. Mask. Whatever. At least the rewards were nice when they did show up. Even if he did have to wait and work for them a little more.

The map could wait a bit. He still had breakfast to finish. And level benefits to look at!

Congratulations! Threshold Achieved! Level-Bonuses Awarded!

Choose one Property to increase by one (1) rank!

Proficiency rank-cap raised by one (1)!

You have gained one (1) new Peculiarity slot!

Robin pulled up his character sheet. His Heritage now read Shadeling, Mature and Progress to Tier 1 now read 71%. So 67% must have been the threshold he passed. How dangerous had the Shadow of Yvon-Rael been? He shuddered. It had clearly been above his weight class. Bait class? No, that’s not funny enough.

Property increases…Robin was tempted to use the rank in Strength. He hated how weak he was feeling. That probably wasn’t the smartest move, though. He wasn’t really shaping up as a melee combatant, and it didn’t suit his nature at all.

He’d been doing pretty well with trickery and insults, so Cunning, Charisma, and Manipulation were all good options. Dexterity would probably enhance his stealth. After all, the best armour class is not getting hit in the first place!

Robin assigned the rank to Cunning, in the end. It was his highest stat, so the free rank saved him the most experience points to use it there. He didn’t have the energy to ponder further.

Grathilde was awake and eating. Fiamah was kneeling down near to the both of them, eyes closed. Meditation? Prayer? Maybe just a cheeky bit of rest. They could all use it.

It didn’t look like Lantha was going to insist that they move on any time soon, so Robin went back to considering his new options.

The biggest question was, which peculiarity did he want to choose next? Limited shape-shifting or more illusions? His new mask covered each one, to a small extent. Robin poked through his interface, searching for more information.

Mask of Myriad Faces

Grants the bearer limited shapeshifting ability. Bearer is limited to shapes of the same general form (bipedal life forms cannot shift to quadrupeds or hexapeds, etc.) but can freely shift particulars of appearance (hair, skin, etc.) and biology (sex, internal organs, etc.). Physical abilities of the target form may be used, but exceptional or supernatural abilities may not. This ability has no effect on clothing or equipment carried. Chronicle of Infinite Visions

Grants the bearer the ability to use [Visual Phantasm] at will, without the need for any invocation costs or components.

Robin focused on the description of [Visual Phantasm]. No point making this choice without full information, if he could help it.

[Visual Phantasm]

Tier: 1

Circle: Illusion, Shadow

Range: Long

Duration: Concentration + 9 seconds + 3 seconds/level

Effect(s): Create an illusion of an object, creature, or visible force.

Constraints: Images created by this spell are visual only and do not include sound, scent, thermal, or any sensory effects other than visual. Images generated cannot exceed a volume greater than three 3-yard cubes + an additional 3-yard cube/level. While maintaining concentration you can cause the image to move within the bounds of its original manifestation volume and location.

Long range? That was nice. All his other options were more close-range stuff. And that was a big jump in size. The limitations were pretty harsh though. At-will, though, that sounded good. From what he’d seen of Fiamah and Grathilde’s efforts, higher-tiered magics took a lot of energy and couldn’t be used nearly as often as cantrips.

‘Grathilde,’ he asked, because Fiamah still had her eyes closed, ‘does your School of Magic measure effect in Tiers? I just realised I have no idea if that is a universal descriptor or something I’ve only seen more locally.’

‘Huh? Oh. Yes. Everyone I know uses a Tier system to measure spell effectiveness, and, by extension, general mastery-level of an individual skilled in the mystic or clerical arts.’ Grathilde seemed pleased to have something to focus on other than feeling weak.

‘Naming conventions differ,’ Fiamah added, opening her eyes, ‘but generally everything breaks down into nine levels. Ten, if you include non-tier people and effects.’

‘How common are at-will abilities of Tier 1 or higher?’ The question was out before Robin could stop himself.

‘Rare but not unheard of,’ Fiamah answered. If she thought it an odd thing he should already know, she gave no sign.

‘Though you usually don’t hear of them outside the mastery tiers,’ Grathilde added.

‘There are exceptions,’ Fiamah corrected. ‘Though they are often limited by cultural secrecy or strange circumstances.’

‘True. Having [Minor Levinbolt] at-will would have come in very handy in that last fight.’ Grathilde grimaced. ‘But I’ve heard you have to be struck by natural lightning and survive to have a chance at manifesting a peculiarity like that.’

Robin started at the familiar term. So there was some link between what he was seeing and how they saw the world here. Even though it seemed no one else aside form him had an illusory interface.

Well, no one so far.

Before he could ask any more questions, however, Lantha interrupted. She motioned Ora-Jean over and asked Fiamah to pull out the maps. Robin’s ears perked up at that.

‘We need to find our way out of here,’ the rogue said. ‘We know where we are, and we think we have two possible exits, but we haven’t found the passage we need to—’

‘We’re going to have to go through the crypts,’ Robin said. The flash of insight nearly blinded his mind’s eye. He could see it all so clearly now. ‘Look, this symbol here? I think it’s the same one on the stone the Shadow of Yvon-Rael rose out of.’

‘How do you know that?’ Grathilde asked.

‘How do you know that thing’s name?’ Ora-Jean demanded at the same time.

‘Uh,’ Robin scrambled for a moment, then sighed. ‘Legends. Lore. General—' he was going to regret this, ‘—Bardic Knowledge?’

He didn’t know if he was more relieved or annoyed that the party accepted that at face value.

‘It’s worth a shot,’ Ora-Jean admitted, studying the map.

‘I think he’s probably right,’ Fiamah added. ‘Look, if that does connect, it should bring us up via a series of galleries that match this set of lines here, and connect to the goblin map at—'

Robin let them hash it out. He knew he was right, and he knew they’d find their way eventually. It was a lot of faith to put in a possible hallucination, but so far, the quest system hadn’t steered him wrong. Steered him snarkily, yes, but not wrong.

While they debated, he opened his interface and filled his open peculiarity slot with [Chronicle of Infinite Visions]. He’d have the chance to take the other one soon enough, he hoped, and for now this just seemed to offer more versatility.

‘We go through the crypts,’ Lantha said, decisively ending the debate. ‘We go quick and we go careful and we go now. I think we’ve spent long enough down here, and if this turns out to be another dead end, I want to know sooner rather than later.’

The conversation wrapped up quickly after that. The party gathered their supplies and headed back to the crypt entrance. When they arrived, Ora-Jean easily shifted the large pieces of cracked stone and cleared the way down.

Lantha sent a magelight drifting ahead of them. It painted the walls in faded golden light. The stone here was less worked than in the outpost above, more natural, and the walls dripped with condensation.

Down and down they went, following a spiral stair. At the bottom, it branched off into several tunnels, but each was marked in some kind of script. Robin was able to read it with [Tongue of the Fallen Tower] and directed them along the path he and Fiamah thought most likely to lead them to their destination.

Along the way, they passed through what had clearly been the tomb-turned-lair of the Shadow of Yvon-Rael. Blue lights sparkled at the corner of Robin’s vision, and he called out for the party to stop.

‘You’ve got good eyes,’ Ora-Jean said approvingly, hauling out several pieces of equipment.

It looked like the shadow had been bringing back trophies of its conquests. Moreover, the catafalque was cracked, revealing yellowed bones and the glitter of gold inside.

‘We don’t touch the grave goods,’ Fiamah said firmly.

Ora-Jean and Grathilde looked like they might argue, but a look from Lantha silenced them. Robin was just glad he didn’t have to weigh in on the moral ramifications of the whole situation. He had enough mental stress to deal with in this new world as it was.

There was still plenty of equipment scattered about the tomb. While it was not enough to completely outfit the party, they were in much better shape in terms of weapons and armour than they had been.

While the rest of his companions were searching the room for usable equipment, Robin followed the blue sparkles he had noticed to a simple silver ring inlaid with blue enamel in a knotwork pattern. When he slipped it onto his finger, it felt right and refreshing.

‘Good find,’ Grathilde said when he returned to the party. ‘Well-earned.’

Robin had worried she’d insist he surrender it to the party, that he would still be denied a cut, but it looked like he was even more accepted than he thought.

Fortunately, encountering Yvon-Rael’s lair was the last bit of excitement Robin and his companions faced beneath the mountains. They had a few close encounters with goblin sign, but of the kobolds there was nary a yip. They followed the map and eventually found their way out of the deeps of the mountain.

Robin stepped out into the fresh air, blinking in the bright light. The taste of it. It was so clear, so pure. Grathilde must be ecstatic. They were on a small outcrop overlooking a vast, deep forest, though across the valley Robin could just make out the signs of some sort of fortifications.

It was breathtaking.

‘T’ressha’s tits!’ Lantha swore. ‘We’re on the wrong side of the bloody mountain!’

Here Endeth the Tale of the Unexpected Depths!

ROBIN PARKER Heritage: Shadeling, Mature Profession: None Tier: 0 (Progress to Tier 1: 86%) Properties

Free Ranks Available: 1 Physical Mental Social Strength: 11 Intelligence: 17 Charisma: 15 Dexterity: 14 Cunning: 19 Manipulation: 13 Fortitude: 11 Resilience: 14 Poise: 15 Proficiencies

Free Ranks Available: 3 Physical (7/9) Mental (8/9) Social (7/9) Athletics: 1 Arcane Lore: 1 ??? Brawl: 0 ??? Deception: 4 Dodge: 4 Concentration: 1 Empathy: 1 ??? Crafting: 0 Expression: 4 ??? Healing: 0 Gossip: 0 Ranged Combat: 0 Insight: 3 Intimidation: 0 Sleight of Hand: 1 Learning: 1 Persuasion: 1 Stealth: 4 Natural Wisdom: 0 Socialise: 1 Survival: 1 Perception: 4 ??? Peculiarities Blessing of Rhyth Tongue of the Fallen Tower Mark of the Trickster Chronicle of Infinite Visions