“Alright, I think I’ve got it down now,” said Artyom, looking down at the mahogany staff on the table. “I should be able to speed through the activation chant at a moment’s notice, but it’s still pretty long.”

He and Neitra had spent the rest of the day after they’d retrieved the Yamastra from the crypt practicing the activation chant. Of course to Neitra, it was just practice. Artyom had yet to learn it, so for him it was mostly a game of catch up.

“And that took what, the rest of last night and two hours this morning?” asked Neitra with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, about,” replied Artyom with a similar expression, laden with the hint of an apprehensive glare. “But it’s not like we had anything else to do, so it was time well spent.”

Neitra nodded in response. Her eyes haphazardly gazed around the room, as if lost in stressful thought.

“What’s up?” asked Artyom, looking at her suspiciously.

“Can I be honest?” asked Neitra.

“Of course,” said Artyom, his heartbeat starting to quicken.

“I’m… I’m worried about continuing to pay for this hotel room,” she blurted out. “If we can’t get into the Sworn Enemy’s fortress and destroy whatever it is we need to in the next few days, then we’ll need to get jobs that pay at least one gold a day, and that doesn’t even include food!”

“Oh…” replied Artyom. “Well, I was able to get a job as a courier back in Brimhaven, and I was good enough at it to earn well over half a gold a day. I didn’t even use any of my speed spells, so who knows how much I can make in a packed city like this?”

“That’s a relief,” sighed Neitra. “I’m not sure what much else I could do, except help out at a bakery.”

“Bakery?”

“Yeah, I learned a lot from my mom before I decided to devote myself to becoming a rogue full-time.”

“Oh right, you mentioned she ran a bakery herself.” Artyom placed his hand on his chin and thought to himself for a few seconds. “Or you could make and sell poisons. Sae mentioned buying some from a rogue earlier, which he used on some rats. There’s also the potential criminal underworld that would love to make use of the talents of a high level rogue such as yourself.”

“Wait, criminals?!” Neitra looked up in shock. “But crime is illegal!”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s called crime,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

“Well I don’t want to get involved in any of that. It’s just wrong, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Whenever I was desperate enough, I’d usually take the more robin-hood like jobs they were offering, stealing from the evil rich and giving to somebody a little less bad.”

“Still, it doesn’t sit well in my stomach, I don’t want to do anything like that if we can help it.”

“I understand. Chances are, there are plenty of above-board career opportunities for a rogue here, so don’t worry about it!” Artyom smiled a comforting grin at her, which she soon returned. He was glad to see her calmed down by his response alone. For him, the primed RDX explosive he hid in her bag was the only thing that would do the same for him. Chances are, he’d never have to activate it and be able to dispose of it before she ever found out it was there. After remembering Cesen, he didn’t want to let something like that happen again.

“Artyom, what’s wrong?” asked Neitra? “You blanked out there for a couple of seconds.”

“Huh? Sorry, I was thinking about what kind of jobs you could get that you might like,” he replied with a straight face. “I don’t know much about what life is like here, so it’s hard to think of much.”

“Well I’m sure we’ll think of something, -”

Before Neitra could complete the thought, the duo heard a deep rapping sound coming from the window.

“That must be Rugul!” exclaimed Neitra as she got up and headed towards the window. “Maybe he already has news about getting in?”

“Don’t bother,” replied Artyom, turning to face the doorway.

“Why not? What’s wrong with having a little faith?” asked Neitra. “I mean it worked out with the riddle.”

“Not that, I mean with the window.” Artyom shifted his gaze to the space in front of the doorway. “Hey Rugul, how goes it?”

“Alright, how did you know this time?” asked Rugul, suddenly appearing from a shadow near the doorway. “Was it your dumb wards again?”

“You know me so well, I practically saw you come through the door,” replied Artyom with a smirk. “But that trick with making the knocking come from the window was pretty neat! How did you manage to do that?”

“New Skill,” said the assassin. “[Throw Sound] lets me do just that. I got it last night after sneaking back into my old boss’ fortress and mucking around.”

“Haha,” giggled Neitra. “It looks like the goddess’ own system is working against her, and Yama was right about her really being bad at managing things by herself!”

“You mean Yama from the riddle?” asked Rugul. “Whatever came about from that, by the way?”

“See for yourself,” replied Artyom, holding up the wooden staff for him to witness.

“Hmm, doesn’t seem that impressive to me,” said Rugul, giving the weapon a lazy glance. “What are you gonna do? Whack the Sworn Enemy on the head with it?”

“Sworn Enemy? You’re calling him that too?” asked Artyom with mild frustration.

Rugul simply shrugged his shoulders in a casual gesture while making his way to an empty chair at the table. “Hey, it’s my job to blend in, and calling the Dark Lord the ‘Sworn Enemy’ is part of that.”

“Yeah Artyom,” added Neitra, who was headed to the last empty seat at the table. “If you don’t get yourself into the habit of calling him that soon, you’re going to slip up at the worst possible time!”

“Yeah, I know,” he said while waving his hand absentmindedly. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.” His eyes jittered around the room, passing over his and Neitra’s bags inconspicuously. He took a deep breath to calm himself down.

“You seem pretty nervous, there. You sure you’re up for this kind of job?” asked Rugul.

“Yeah, you were pretty anxious last night too, you were even mumbling something in your sleep like you were having a nightmare,” added Neitra.

“What? I don’t sleep talk,” said Artyom, indignantly. “I’ve even had others watch me in the past and none of them have said I do that!”

“I believe you, you’ve never done it before last night,” added Neitra. “But it sounded like you were having a pretty bad nightmare, something about protecting some kids?”

“Well, that’s what my job normally is,” replied the TOAL agent, putting one leg on top of the other and adopting a defensive tone. “Travel around and protect kids who get dragged into messes that don’t concern them, like with Tommy.”

“You also said something about being betrayed,” she noted. “Like how we were by the rest of the party and the goddess? Tommy’s still pretty much a kid, honestly, so I figured that’s what it’s about.”

Artyom tensed at the first part of her response, but calmed down enough to force himself to nod at the latter half.

“Just try not to get yourself too stressed out about it,” said the rogue in a caring tone. “We’ll save Tommy, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I know,” replied Artyom with a deflating sigh. “Thanks, Neitra.”

“Anytime,” she said back with a heartfelt smile.

“So if you two are done romancing, can we get down to business?” asked Rugul impatiently. “I’ve got a lot you’ll want to hear.”

“You too?!” asked Netira this time. “Why does everyone think we’re a couple?!”

“Relax, I’m joking,” replied the assassin with a straight face. “You two are obviously the farthest thing from it.”

“Thank you.” Neitra sighed out the words. “So, you were saying?”

“Right. So I’ve found the spymaster’s visitation list for tomorrow and added the names of two assassins who I know are going to be away for the next few days. He writes an entire week’s worth at a time and doesn’t bother checking them after he sends them out, so this is your chance to get close to him.”

The duo nodded, urging Rugul to continue.

“And here are the clothes and identification for those assassins,” he said as he pulled out a pair of robes and mostly matching crests. “The crest shape is what they use to determine an assassin’s identity, and wielders of any crest belonging to a nonexistent or deceased agent are regarded as enemies and killed on the spot.”

“That’s pretty smart of them,” commented Neitra. “That way even killed spies won’t leave behind anything useful against the Spymaster. But they could still use the robes and crest to sneak through the rest of the Sworn Enemy’s fortress, if his soldiers don’t check for that.”

“I guess he only really cares about his own skin,” replied Artyom. “Makes sense, if he’s the one really pulling the strings for the goddess.”

The other two nodded before Rugul continued.

“Also, the Spymaster constantly cycles the location he conducts business out of, and he’ll be doing it out of the chapel tomorrow. So that’s about it, your best chance at getting at the Spymaster is tomorrow at the chapel.”

“That’s impressive!” said Artyom, a wide grin plastered on his face. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time. But if only we had a chance to go there and prepare today itself. Confronting our target on his own home turf, especially seeing that he’s competent, is a bad idea.”

“I mean, you could go there now if you wanted to. The chapel won’t have any security since he’s not there today, but you’d still have to overcome the same hurdles of actually getting to the fortress first.”

“No security where he’s headed?” asked Artyom. “Does he not want to give away where he’ll be headed or something? Because that leaves a massive hole someone to come in and do some sabotage.”

“It definitely is,” replied the assassin. “But I don’t remember him ever sending anyone to give his future sites a cleaning sweep before heading inside himself.”

“Even better for us then!” exclaimed Artyom. “That’s what happens when you’ve got smarts, but nothing to really sharpen them on. You make all of these supposedly clever moves without the chance to ever be proven wrong, so you keep making the same mistakes.”

“Hold on, you said something about hurdles? I thought you’d taken care of everything?” asked Neitra.

“I forgot to mention, sorry about that,” replied Rugul. “But you two still need to make it across No Man’s Land between here and the fortress, and that’s going to be a real challenge. The Sworn Enemy’s army patrols the area and will chase off anyone they find. Even assassins, since they’re not even supposed to be seen. I’m sure you could sneak around them, Neitra. But Artyom here is the epitome of 'conspicuous’, if you ask me.”

“I’ve got a group stealth Skill that could help, but not if we’re out in the open and everyone’s specifically looking for us,” added Neitra.

Artyom frowned but said nothing. Rugul was right, after all. He wasn’t that good at stealth, and didn’t have the benefit of levels, Skills, or specialized magic to help him.

“So we just need to distract the Sworn Enemy’s army?” asked Neitra. “Couldn’t we just do that with a bomb or something?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve seen his main forces before, but they’re big. And I mean really big,” replied the assassin. “And they’d still give you chase even if you took out a small portion of them.”

“So we’ll need something really big, then? Why not another army?” she suggested next.

“And where exactly are we going to get another army from?” asked Artyom impatiently, getting up to look outside the window. “It’s not like one’s going to appear on our front doorstep and-” he immediately stopped talking and looked out at the sight in front of him.

The other two, now curious, joined him at the window and shared in his epiphany.

Outside, a small patrol of soldiers part of Ironheart Fortress’ army marched across the street to the enthusiastic fanfare of the few citizens they passed. It might not have been their army, but it was an army at the right place, and hopefully would be where they needed them at the right time.

“I’m so glad you two are interested in joining the army’s fight against the Sworn Enemy,” said an older woman to Artyom and Neitra. “Now I just need your names, as well as your class and levels.”

The duo stood inside Ironheart Fortress’ army recruitment center, showing their best smiles to the attendant, a friendly old lady with gray hair who seemed to have been working her post for decades. They needed an army to distract the Dark Lord’s, so why not make use of the one he was already fighting? If they joined and travelled with the troops of Ironheart Fortress, they’d be able to stay in the back and sneak off to their destination when the time came.

“But of course,” replied Artyom, who had adopted a charming smile and a brand new persona. “You may call me Regalium Lettuceman, and this is my compatriot, Miss Bechamel Hollandaise. But you can call her Becky.”

Neitra gave him an exasperated glare, but kept her tongue still. It was too late to correct him after such a confident display, and it would only serve to poke a hole in their plan. “I’m a level 39 [Rogue],” she finally said to the attendant.

“Alright, miss Hollandaise, level… 39… [Rogue]. Excellent! That’s an incredibly high level to have at such a young age, you know! I’m sure you’ll be a great addition to our armed forces. And how about you, Mister Lettuceman?”

“Oh! Uh, thank you!” replied Neitra with a smile, trying to shield the blush forming on her cheeks with her right hand.

“Well, I can’t really say the exact class and number,” said Artyom with an awkward smile. “But it’s incredibly high as a leader and melee fighter.”

“Oh, don’t worry dear!” replied the attendant. “There’s nothing wrong with having low levels, every soldier starts small before growing strong. And I’m sure you will too someday! In fact, you can get started when you report in for training next week, right here at 8 in the morning.”

“Uh, it’s not that I’m weak but… wait, did you say next week?” Artyom was jolted out of his indignancy at the attendant’s last sentence.

“Of course I did, dear! We still need to file the paperwork and get your uniform and weapons ready, and set aside a bunk for you at the barracks, and make sure…” She continued to list a menagerie of tasks that was quickly morphing into a bureaucratic nightmare.

Artyom began to deflate. Sure, she was technically a gatekeeper who was preventing him from getting into the army that day itself, but Artyom knew her restrictions were completely understandable. He just hoped they would’ve been desperate enough to let them join that day itself. He could try to put her through the wringer like he did with Cress back in Brimhaven, but this was an innocent old lady and Artyom didn’t have the heart to put her through that. Not when it wasn’t her fault. Oh well, perhaps it was time for plan B…

“Hey Yarrow, have you heard anything about General Samphire?” interrupted another employee. “He should’ve gotten here from the capital by now.”

“He’s actually been delayed for two more days. I got a letter from him this morning,” she replied. “One of the Sworn Enemy’s roving warbands ambushed him, and they’re giving chase.”

Artyom mentally chided the two for discussing military secrets right in front of a pair of strangers, who could’ve easily been spies. If Gus were in charge of them, he would’ve chewed them out for their terrible OPSEC! Before he could curse the effects of the taint on them any further, an idea sprung to mind.

Artyom took a deep breath and threw his mind into a brand new persona, one of great confidence and power, and let the megalomania flow through him. He put on an intense grin and placed his lower arm and elbow on the table, leaning over the documents and half of Yarrow’s form.

“Excuse me, Miss Yarrow,” began Artyom in a silent yet hardened voice, allowing his aura to diffuse into the air surrounding the woman. “But I happen to be General Samphire.”

“You’re the general?” asked Yarrow, looking up at him in disbelief. “I thought you’d look older.”

“I happened to have earned my position quickly through merit, not just levels, mind you. And I must ask, are you questioning my authority?” A tinge of courage and fear, to encourage belief in him but squash any question in his prerogative.

“Oh no, not at all, sir!” she exclaimed, holding out her hands apologetically. She let them down as a puzzled expression began to form on her face. “But then why did you introduce yourself as Regalium instead of General Samphire? And do you have any identification that you’re the general?”

Well they at least had some level of security if he was going to be asked for proof. Of course he didn’t have any, but he had the next best thing; massive piles of easily-bought bullshit.

“My presence here is supposed to be top secret,” continued Artyom, with the same tone, channeling his inner Patrick Warburton. “And apparently, you didn’t get my message.”

“We did get it, sir,” replied Yarrow, looking even more confused. “You said it would take you two more days to arrive here.”

“No, my other message, the secret one that was supposed to be delivered to your hands. The one that would’ve clued you in on the codewords I was using so you would know what to do.”

“Secret one? My hands? Codeword?” She was beginning to look dizzy. It wouldn’t do any good to lose her, so Artyom laid down the details on what she’d supposedly missed.

“That’s right, Miss Yarrow. The one that detailed my early arrival here to inspect the troops I would be working with, and working against.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” she all but shouted. “Let me tell the others, they’d be delighted to learn you’re here to help!”

“No!” Artyom exclaimed, stopping the attendant in place. “My presence here is a secret. The only ones who should know about this are you and the higher ups in the army.”

“Oh, I see,” she said apologetically. “But I should tell them at least.”

“I’m sure they already know, but forgot to tell you,” said Artyom, trying his best to hold her in place with his words and aura.

“But why? I’m sure they would’ve told me if they’d known.”

“You said it yourself, this place is a bureaucratic hellhole, the information probably got lost on the way to you. And they probably have much more important things to do than be reminded of what they already know.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” said Yarrow, nodding her head, deep in thought.

“It does,” replied Artyom, with a charming smile. “The information you now hold is an utmost secret. Talking about it haphazardly, even with your friends, could jeopardize national security if the wrong person were to overhear it, so it must stay secret!”

“My lips are sealed, General!” she said with wide eyes as she moved her hand across her lips. “So what can I do for you now?”

“Excellent, I know I can trust you, Miss Yarrow. You do your Kingdom proud.” Artyom nodded his head in victory. “What I need from you now is the opportunity to march with the army on the Dark Lord’s forces today. It must be in secret as another grunt so nobody recognizes me.”

“Sure, I can do that, but Dark Lord? Don’t you mean Sworn Enemy, sir?”

Artyom looked at the attendant with a frozen expression. Everyone was right about his old-fashioned insistence finally catching up with him. And in such a sensitive situation, to boot. As he thought of a way to save himself, he kept the same confident look on his face, lest he give Yarrow even more of a reason to start doubting him.

“Goodnes, General,” said Neitra, stepping forward while shaking her head. “This is why you have me around.”

The attendant’s attention shifted towards her, hopeful in getting an answer to assuage her confusion.

“Hi, I’m the general’s second in command, Lieutenant… Hollandaise.” She couldn’t think of another fake name in the heat of the moment. “General Samphire here has a bad habit of getting names mixed up. Truth be told, he usually calls the Sworn Enemy ‘the Dark Loser’ instead, so balancing three whole names for him is pretty tricky. So that’s my job, taking care of the important things while he tells the soldiers how to march.”

The others stared at Neitra as they processed what they’d just heard. They stayed still before Yarrow finally broke the silence.

“Oh, I see! Well thank you, Lieutenant Hollandaise. I’m sure being General is a very difficult job, so thank you for helping both of us so much!”

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Yarrow.”

“Oh, just Yarrow is fine! So I think I can get you where you need to go. I’ll get you a pair of uniforms, and you can head to the dirt field just outside after you put them on. I’ll let them know that you two are new recruits! Be there in about an hour, that’s when the next attack starts.”

“Thank you Yarrow, you truly are a testament to your Kingdom,” said Artyom, concluding the conversation.

He and Neitra accepted the uniforms from the attendant and made their way outside to get ready for their next adventure.

“So, Lieutenant Hollandaise?” asked Artyom with a wry grin.

“I couldn’t think of any other names on such short notice,” replied Neitra defensively.

“Are you sure you didn’t just like the name I gave you?”

Neitra nudged her elbow into his side with a smile, forcing him to jump back and snicker.

“Well, let’s just get ready,” said Artyom, settling down. “I’m sure there’s going to be a lot to do once we get into the Sworn Enemy’s fortress.”

Neitra nodded, and they made their way forwards, ready to prepare for their little sabotage.