Robin padded softly into the camp, the grass soft against the pads of his feet. He had opted for stealth and used [Mask of Myriad Faces] to assume the form of a catkin. It didn’t make him much more dexterous, really, or increase his stealth proficiency, but it provided small circumstantial benefits.

It wasn’t much more than a small space surrounded by boulders, an open-air hollow more than a cave. It fit in well with the rocky terrain of the plateau that housed the Keep, and was a nice place out of the wind. It was chillier here further up the mountains than it had been down in the enchanted wood.

Searching the camp, Robin came up empty. The Sisters Sharp weren’t around. There were signs they had been, and recently, and he found a small cache of supplies that argued they planned to return, but the question was when—

‘Don’t. Move.’

Robin felt the prickle of a knife at this throat. Apparently the answer to the question of when was now.

‘Lantha?’ he guessed.

He heard laughter in his ear and the knife vanished from his throat. Turning, he found Lantha and Ora-Jean standing behind him. They must have hidden when they heard someone coming and he missed the signs, even with the training he had done to increase his perception.

‘So you’re not completely useless at trackin’ then,’ Ora-Jean said with a grin. ‘I told them you’d find us if we were still here. And you managed to escape the pixies.’

‘The dryad was a bigger problem,’ Robin said drily.

Lantha quirked an eyebrow at that. Ora-Jean opened her mouth to ask, but Lantha held up a hand.

‘Wait. Fiamah and Grathilde should be back soon. No point telling the story twice,’ the rogue said.

Robin didn’t particularly agree. After all, he needed to work on his performance skills so he could complete his bardic quest. Still, he settled in, listening to Lantha and Ora-Jean describe what had happened from their perspective.

After the pixie attack, the Sisters Sharp had realised he was missing. They searched for a while, but the forest led them out, and once out, they couldn’t find their way back in; the illusions kept turning them away.

Another thing he owed Eli for. Or probably Cherry. Thinking on it, it felt more like the dryad’s work.

The Sisters Sharp had eventually concluded they weren’t going to be able to rescue Robin, and moved on toward the Keep. They had vital intelligence to return to Noviel. What, precisely, Lantha wouldn’t allow Ora-Jean to say, but Robin didn’t mind. He didn’t have a dog in that hunt.

What followed was the usual tale of adventure and wandering monsters as they made their way to the Keep. Robin had come face to face with a couple of hairy situations himself on the way. Ora-Jean was good at describing the battles through, much better than Lantha. The woman really got into it.

Knowing Gis had seen their faces, they decided to split into two groups to investigate the town inside the Keep’s outer walls. They didn’t have much they could use in the way of disguises, so they wanted to work every angle.

Made sense. Robin approved. Not everyone could be a magical master of disguise!

‘The main issue is the pass we need to get out the gate towards Noviel,’ Lantha said, citing through one of Ora-Jean’s many tangents. ‘We’ve tested the walls, and they’re too well patrolled, not to mention warded. Basgar and Gis aren’t raging incompetents, for all their other faults.’

‘We need a pass. Stolen or forged. We haven’t yet found someone who’ll give us a legitimate one. Not for the money we’ve got. We’re doing odd jobs and collecting bounties to amass funds to get us through the gate and outfit ourselves better for the journey back to Noviel,’ the scout explained.

‘And the situation inside isn’t making things any easier,’ Lantha observed sourly. ‘Basgar still hasn’t solidified his rule, so there’s a lot of chaos inside and the petty tyrant’s forces are all on high alert constantly. It makes things…difficult.’

‘So that’s where we’re at. Trying to find a way through the gate so we can make it back to Noviel,’ the barbarous scout concluded, scratching her fingers in mid-air at about the height a massive badger might stand, were he visible.

Fiamah and Grathilde appeared just as Ora-jean was finishing up the tale. Grathilde took one look at him, broke into a wide grin, and held her hand out to Ora-Jean.

‘He made it back,’ the aeromancer crowed. ‘Pay up!’

The scout grumbled like Robin imagined her badger would grumble as she pulled out a couple of coins and tossed them to the aeromancer.

Fiamah simply walked over to Robin and gave him a brief hug. Robin hurriedly resumed his own form beneath the illusion of himself before the physical contact could reveal anything. That would just lead to several awkward questions. No need to go into that now.

‘It’s good to see you again,’ the cleric said.

‘Right, everyone’s back. I want to hear about this dryad,’ Ora-Jean demanded. ‘How did you escape the enchanted wood?’

‘Dryad?’ Grathilde shot Robin a measuring look and a smirk. ‘I’m surprised—’

‘Enough,’ Fiamah cut her off. ‘I would like to hear Robin’s story.’

‘I’ve been practising even,’ Robin said with a grin. ‘And I’ve picked up a couple of new tricks to show you.’

He held up his left hand. He’d nicked it on a stone climbing the hill but, as it wasn’t a bad cut, he had conserved his energies. Now that he had an audience, however…Robin hummed, reaching out for that resonance that his recent level-up had imprinted upon his mind, the [Healing Note].

The flesh knit itself back together, leaving not even the ghost of a scar. Robin smiled and wriggled his fingers, showing off the unbroken skin of his hand. The blood and dirt vanished courtesy of [Legerdemain]. It was a fantastic spell, honestly, and the best part was he needed only cast it once every hour-and-a-half or so to be able to perform any of its various effects, though there were limits on the number of minor manifestations he could perform at once.

‘Fantastic,’ Grathilde said, ‘now we won’t need to rely on Fiamah to put you back together!’

‘Enough,’ Lantha said, ‘I believe there was mention of a tale?’

‘Of course!’ Robin smiled. ‘Once upon a time…’

***

‘…and then I tracked my way here. The rest you know,’ Robin finished.

He had strategically edited bits of the tale, of course. No need to spill all his secrets (like the full extent of the tower’s resources) or dwell overmuch on the more humiliating parts.

‘So,’ he charged on, ‘what say I help you get through the gate so you can get back to Noviel with whatever vital intelligence you’ve gathered, and in exchange, you let me travel with you and get me an introduction to your adventuring company when we get to the city?’

Robin knew they weren’t likely to just accept him into the party. They were a tight-knit group, and they clearly had a cohesion that came as much from working together for a higher cause as from being friends or allies.

Grathilde opened her mouth to say something, but Robin cut her off.

‘Yes, I do get a cut of the loot. If I have to work for money, I won’t have the time or attention for helping you with your dilemma. And that would be a shame, because I can be very useful.’

Grathilde closed her mouth with a snap, suspicious. Instead of saying anything, she looked to Lantha. Fiamah and Ora-Jean likewise transferred their attention to the rogue.

Lantha, for her part, merely raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to do his thing.

Fine with Robin. She wanted a show? She’d get one.

Robin called on his [Mask of Disguise], shifting first into Fiamah and then Lantha. Then he pulled out some of the disguises he’d been practicing since he left the woods. He became a completely generic dude, so average in appearance as to be almost entirely forgettable. Then he assumed the guise of a guardsman in the uniform of the Keep’s Watch.

The Sisters Sharp had watched the show in silence. Lantha was impassive. Fiamah looked troubled. Ora-Jean and Grathilde were grinning like anything. He resumed his usual appearance.

‘I can be in a lot of places and get my hands on a lot of things you might need,’ Robin said. ‘You need to get through the gate. If we do a bit of reconnaissance, I’m sure we can find a weak spot to exploit and slip out before anyone is the wiser.’

‘I think we can work with that,’ Lantha said with a small smile. ‘Your skills are coming along nicely. I think we can reach an arrangement on something like your proposal.’

Grathilde groaned.

‘Twenty percent isn’t much less than twenty-five,’ Ora-Jean said to her in a stage whisper. ‘Besides, it goes both ways. We’ll get a cut of any money he makes performing.’

The aeromancer perked up at the thought. Robin wasn’t bothered. Either this arrangement would only last until they made it to Noviel, or he’d become a regular part of the party and could renegotiate when that happened.

It didn’t take long for the Sisters Sharp to hold a whispered discussion and agree to his terms. They shook on it, and Grathilde began to rummage up the porridge while Ora-Jean used some of the flatter rocks nearby to build a nearly smokeless fire.

They took the meal to relax and talk, mostly. Robin spent plenty of time practicing his [Lesser Phantasm], however, flavouring the porridge in various ways. It had gotten nearly twice as easy to move various flavours around the campfire as the cantrip now lasted nearly twenty seconds per cast. Mostly he kept it simple, calling up flavours like milk and honey, or roasted hazelnuts, but once or twice he dipped into savoury porridges like white cheddar with red pepper and egg.

‘I definitely missed that,’ Grathilde said as she scraped her makeshift bowl clean. ‘It’s tastes so much better, even knowing its fake.’

‘And it makes a change,’ Ora-Jean added. ‘It’s been a bit bland, really. Not many berries to scrounge up, no beehives nor animals to swipe extras from.’

‘Lantha won’t let me spend any of our money on food in town,’ Grathilde complained. ‘It’s not my fault—’

‘It’s a perfectly sensible measure,’ Fiamah cut in, with the air of one who had heard this argument ad nauseam and was on the brink of going nuclear from hearing it one more time. ‘We need the money for equipment, supplies, and bribes. The more we save on food thanks to that spoon, the less time we have to tarry here.’

‘I’ll head into town tomorrow and see what I can find out,’ Robin said. He could help out the Sisters Sharp and, with any luck, do a little bit of investigation into his own interests. There had to be more information about Rhyth around somewhere. Why not here? There had been a hidden shrine not far off, after all. If that fragment survived, maybe there were more to be found around here. He’d scried the keep a bit, but it was too large to memorise in a few viewings and he’d had much better things to do with his limited time in the tower.

‘Give me a day or two,’ he continued, ‘and I’ll figure out who can get us what we need, how much it’s likely to cost, and any weaknesses they might have. Then we can come up with a plan to get it and get gone.’

‘Efficient,’ Lantha drawled. ‘And how do you propose to find this fount of information?’

Robin grinned.

‘Easy. Head to a tavern, of course!’