Robin scrambled to his feet. The stone was rough on his hands, and uneven and treacherous beneath his feet. His fall had cost him too much time and now Lunkhead and a few of his friends were closing in.

He had to even the odds a bit.

He could try running, but he wasn’t in a great position to make escape that simple. If he could escape. He had to stay enough in sight that they kept pursuing him!

He could use his illusions to try and draw some of them off, but he’d be risking them doubling back when they quickly lost sight of the phantasms. It wasn’t like Robin could control them over large distances and without a line of sight.

Or he could send them on toward the next warehouse. That was the eventual plan anyway, but was it too soon? Did he dare risk the resistance job at the next warehouse, where they were also stealing supplies right out from under Basgar’s nose?

Robin didn’t have a lot of good choices. He didn’t have a lot of choices, full stop. He really needed to get his hands on an invisibility spell or a short-range travel charm.

So he had to keep playing bait, at least for a while. Which meant he needed to either gain some ground or to thin the herd. Also, he needed to get his actual self out of the direct line of fire. Which meant he needed a distraction.

‘Good job,’ he called back at the charging guards. ‘You came really close to catching me. But you know what they say…’ Robin put on a wicked grin. ‘Close only counts in a game of horseshoes or in [Fireball] spells!’

And with that, he flicked his fingers and (the illusion of) a roaring ball of flame went coruscating toward the guards. Most of them shouted in dismay, hitting the deck or throwing themselves out of the way.

Robin took the opportunity to slam himself into the wall and cover his position with the [Lesser Phantasm] of a dilapidated crate. Then, the fireball dissipating, he used [Visual Phantasm] to create an image of himself vanishing around a corner. The guards were slowly scrambling to their feet and checking for burn damage. They didn’t have any to find so they recovered quickly.

Just then, the city’s bells rang out again. Good enough for Robin. He could send some of these mooks packing.

He alternated castings of [Lesser Phantasm] to reinforce his hiding space and to send shouts echoing off the walls, fragmentary voices of running thieves and other guards.

‘This one said they’re going to hit the southwestern warehouse next!’ Robin modelled this illusory guard’s voice on the woman who’d stumbled upon his last performance at The Bell and Boar. ‘We need to get over there and stop them before they get a chance to run off with more of our supplies!’

Robin added some general shouts of agreement and a half-heard authoritative voice shouting out orders to that effect.

Some of the guards peeled off immediately. More than Robin expected, actually. Possibly a drawback to recruiting heavily from those who uncritically accept your orders. But that was tyranny for you. It was big on obedience, and the punishments for non-compliance really weeded out the original thinkers.

Thank you, Basgar!

‘I’ll catch up,’ Lunkhead called. ‘I can still sense my mark. The little thief is still around here somewhere.’

Robin was lucky it wasn’t some kind of unerring arrow. Lunkhead was probably too low-level for that kind of tracking magic, though. He kept his position and kept quiet with a watchful eye on the street around him.

Soon it was only Lunkhead and two of his friends. Because of course he couldn’t make this an easy one-on-one. Fine. Wasn’t like Robin was planning on fighting fair anyway.

He smiled. Maybe he could have some fun with this one and test out some of his illusion ideas. The mark still burning on his back might complicate things, but neither Lunkhead nor his pals seemed the sharpest daggers in the belt.

Robin conjured the illusion of himself sitting atop the crate when his opponents were busy looking elsewhere.

‘Well, well, well,’ illusory-Robin said, courtesy of [Lesser Phantasm]. ‘All this for little old me? And I haven’t even had the chance to introduce myself!’

‘It doesn’t matter who you are,’ Lunkhead sneered. ‘All you’re gonna be is dead!’

Well, if that wasn’t a perfect entrance line, Robin didn’t know what was.

‘Too late,’ the illusion said in a sing-song voice. ‘Already dead! My name’s John, by the way. Still is, on this side of things.’

‘Then I’ll hit you so hard you feel it in the afterlife!’ Lunkhead began sprinting toward him.

The illusory Robin laughed, his jaw distending and his flesh peeling back from his bones until the skeleton beneath was revealed and a grinning death mask stared out at the three guards.

Lunkhead stopped his advance.

‘It’s a trick,’ he yelled to his friends. ‘Just some stupid trick.’

Robin twitched his fingers and started [Lesser Phantasm] chaining a horrific whispered chorus of backing music.

🎶Have you seen the ghost of John🎶Long white bones with the skin all gone🎶

Robin gave the voices a bit of atonality to really up the creepy factor. Then he dipped into his spell points reserve and sent some [Whispers from Beyond] crawling through the air to sink into the ear of the guard that looked the most creeped out.

As soon as those whispers began, he screamed. His will broke a moment later, his mind quivering before the onslaught of psychic damage and fear. He immediately began to turn and run.

🎶Wouldn’t it be chilly with no skin on?🎶

The woman remaining with Lunkhead looked really spooked now. The confusion and chaos were Robin’s friends, though. They bought him time to get off another [Whispers from Beyond] for her. She may have had a stronger will than her friend, but the ambiance and the feeling that she really should be obeying orders elsewhere combined to sap her will just enough to fall prey to Robin’s magics. She, too, went screaming away.

‘Cowards!’ Lunkhead shouted after them. ‘It’s just a trick!’

Robin had just enough juice left for one more [Whispers from Beyond] but he held off for now. He should be able to handle this jackanapes with [Cutting Words] and his wits, and if not, then he had [Whispers from Beyond] for a bit more magical oomph.

Besides, there was still a chance Lunkhead’s friends would get over their fear and come back. Best to have a backup in case that happened.

No reason to drop the ruse, though. It was doing a fantastic job of distracting Lunkhead. The man was spitting with fury and screaming at the apparition. He still wasn’t quite brave enough to take a swing at it, though, no matter what he said.

Robin decided to push that a bit further.

🎶John belongs in a quaint nightmare🎶Wobbly jaw and a hollow glare🎶

‘Stop! That! Singing!’ Lunkhead was definitely unsettled.

‘Ha!’ Robin had to cause his illusory double to lip sync to his words. Tricky. ‘You wouldn’t know good music if it bit you an the ass! Of course, that might just be because you can’t tell your ass from your elbow!’

The [Cutting Words] sliced through the air and dug deep. Lunkhead had already taken several hits. His friends had abandoned him. He’d failed in his duties to Lord Basgar. Was it really any wonder that he lost it?

The man screamed in inchoate rage, gibbering and spitting at the bony apparition before him. Muscles straining, he reached down and pried a loose cobblestone up from the street. He didn’t want to attack the apparition directly, but he had no problems chucking a stone at it with all his might.

Unfortunately, Robin was concealed in the centre of that illusion. The rock sailed right through and slammed into his shoulder. It hit with a sickening crunch.

Robin screamed. He couldn’t help it. The pain was intense. The only positive to the situation was that Robin wasn’t knocked out of the middle of the illusion, and that was only because he had his back firmly against the wall.

Lunkhead took that as a sign the creature could be hurt. He hauled at another cobblestone. This one was loosened only by the absence of its mate and was harder to pry up.

Robin was panting with the pain. He didn’t think the shoulder was broken, but a lot of that flesh was definitely pulped. Bruised. [Healing Note]? No. He needed to take that guard out first. Then he could spend his last spell point on healing.

He gritted his teeth. He was going to have to sell this. Lunkhead was already pretty close to unhinged. That argued he’d taken a lot of psychic damage already. One or two more good shots should take him out.

Robin had to be quick. That next cobblestone was loosening. Think. What did he know about Lunkhead?

The guy wasn’t too bright. Hated cowards. Was way too into serving Lord Basgar—maybe there was something there. He took pride in his service, and pride was always an easy target for insults.

Call him a lapdog? No. He might like that. It implies loyalty. Value.

No. If he was going to hit this guy where it really hurt, he needed to go after how well he served Lord Basgar.

Robin grimaced and ran through another set of spell gestures.

The illusory skeletal Robin laughed mockingly.

‘Not even stones can break these bones, but I’ve got words can hurt ye!’ Robin made the apparition loose a wild cackle before going in hard with the [Cutting Words]. ‘They say the truth cuts like a razor, and boy, do I have a close shave for you! Because the truth is, my friend, you’ve failed. You’ve failed yourself. You’ve failed your lord. You really should have followed those orders earlier. By now, there will be at least five warehouses that stand empty in this city. All owned by Lord Basgar. All formerly stuffed to the brim with his ill-gotten supplies. You could have stopped us. But you didn’t.’ The illusory Robin clucked his non-existent tongue sadly. ‘With a record like yours? I think I’d die of shame.’

Lunkhead had gone white as milk as Robin’s voice cut him to the bone. When the monologue finished, the man just slumped to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been sliced through with a razor.

Robin stared at the man for a moment, not knowing if he was dead or merely catatonic. Then he shook himself. If he wanted to stay alive, he needed to move! This world was more violent than the one he was used to.

It was also more magical. That magic was as terrible as it was wondrous was something to process when he wasn’t in mortal danger.

Still, he resolved to learn that [Sleep] spell as soon as he completed his quest. Or a way to make [Command Attention] work during combat. Or some other hypnotic or enchanting ability. His lack of non-lethal options was going to become a problem. If all you have is a hammer, every problems looks like a nail in a coffin.

Robin changed his face and his clothes and slipped off to meet Lantha and the others at their agreed-upon rendezvous.

***

Robin slipped quietly into the Sisters Sharp’s camp outside of Bordertown. It was not the same one he’d tracked down when he first caught up to them. Ora-Jean liked to move around every so often, to minimise impact on the land and to make it harder to track them in case Basgar and Gis came looking.

He rolled his shoulder. It was still stiff, painful, but he didn’t think there was any serious damage. He’d used some healing magic, the last of his stock of spell points, to improve matters. He’d have Fiamah look at it, though, just in case.

There was a small and cheery fire in a pit-and-stone arrangement designed to minimise smoke. The Sisters Sharp were sat around the fire, drinking and laughing quietly.

‘Grab a seat,’ Grathilde said, gesturing with her bottle of beer.

‘We did good work today,’ Lantha said. ‘I see you made it out alright.’

‘It was a bit touch and go there for a moment,’ Robin replied, mustering an echo of his usual cheeky grin.

‘Then, sit! Sit!’ Ora-Jean gestured.

‘Indeed,’ Fiamah agreed, eyeing his shoulder, as if she could see through the layers of cloth and illusion to the injury beneath. ‘Rest and heal.’

Lantha passed him a drink.

‘It’s time we celebrate!’