“Is this the one, fawxy?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

The dragon, Chase realized. Not Theris-whatever, but Renny's friend, the one that they'd been hoping was still around the city.

Lucky, that she'd come in response to the signal.

But then, Chase had built her own luck, forged it level by level. And even so...

“A toy,” Zenobia sneered, losing her fear as the flames faded.

A small wooden dragon flapped leather wings, hovering in midair. Renny sat on its back, hanging on for dear life. He freed up a hand and pointed at the Camerlengo. “Oh yeah! She needs a burning!”

“Raht! Get down and do what you gotta!” The dragon said, doing a neat barrel roll and swooping to the Camerlengo's side...

...and nearly catching a mace in the face as the Camerlengo did her level best to pound the interloper to splinters. “Agh! Yah fahst!”

“And you're inconsequential,” Zenobia said, moving to keep herself between Chase and the others. “I still have an army. And all we have to do is keep you here until the true dragon arrives.”

The wooden toy cursed her out, with language that made Chase's ears burn. She finished with “—witch, I AM a true dragon. Says so raht on my status screen.”

“Then he'll thank me for destroying another blasphemy!” Zenobia shrieked. “Camouflage!”

Then she was gone, just like that.

“Oh no! Um...” Renny said.

“Illusions won't work on her, remember!” Chase said. “Air! Air works!”

“Right!”

Then he was ducking, as the dragon went flying, slamming into the wall with a clatter. A red '256' rose from her, and she fell to the ground, shaking her head.

For a split-second Zenobia was visible, chain mail glistening in the light, mace at her back from the wide swing she'd used to dent the dragon.

“Manipulate Air!” Renny cried.

“Camouflage,” Zenobia sneered, and faded away as wind roared through the hall, blowing out windows and sweeping the three allies away.

“Not what I meant, Renny!” Chase said, tucking herself into a ball—

—and coming up short as a thin hand grabbed her ankle in a deathgrip.

She looked back to see the Camerlengo bracing herself against the ground, digging the spikes of the mace in while she held Chase against the wind with her free hand.

“No. No running. No escape,” The Camerlengo purred, voice just audible over the howling wind. “You're the key to this, and I'm not. Letting. You. Go.”

Chase's mind flashed back to the queen that the Camerlengo had ground under her heel.

I'm in checkmate. But..

She needs me alive. Still, alive doesn't mean conscious. Or without broken bones. I have to step carefully.

The wind died and Chase fell to the floor with a cry. Zenobia staggered back a second, then straightened up.

“You're not leaving here.” She said. And it wasn't a threat, or even in the least bit hostile. Just a simple statement of fact.

Then she touched her earring again and frowned. She turned, looking around the empty hall, past the pile of rubble that the Wizaard's entrance had made. “We're being attacked by Mercenaries,” she said, glaring back at Chase. “How many are there?”

“I don't know,” Chase shrugged. “I didn't hire them.”

“Then who did?”

Chase didn't reply.

The Camerlengo bent down and picked Chase up by her ankle. Skirts spilling around her head, Chase fought to try and keep her torn clothing out of her face. “Who. Did?” The Inquisitor ground out.

Chase let out a cry. She couldn't help it, the fear had her now.

She wanted to stay silent, but courage could only take her so far. Her willpower was still far, far too low for this sort of pressure. But as she opened her mouth to confess, nothing came out but heaving sobs.

“Weak! Useless!” The Camerlengo whipped her around so fast her neck twitched. “I know you can see me now!” the woman bellowed. “This is who you chose to follow! This is your leader!”

Then she lowered her voice. “I have quite a few levels of Chiropractor. If you don't tell me who hired those Mercenaries, I'll start with your ankle and work my way up.”

Chase sobbed harder... but the fear was starting to fade, now.

Halvens, above all, had cool. Poor willpower meant that they could be scared, even startled...

...but their high cool meant that it never lasted for long.

With the departure of fear came rational thought and control, and Chase weighed her options... and kept crying.

The tears were false this time, but they were better than giving Zenobia the answer. And the woman's skills would cut through any lie she tried. Thomasi himself had told her that Inquisitors were built to counter Grifters. No, lies wouldn't work here.

Better to stall. Better to be seen as weak. Better to be underestimated.

All those thoughts fled as pain exploded in her ankle.

You have been afflicted with the broken leg condition!

It took Chase a fair amount of screaming before she calmed down enough to make sense of the words in front of her face.

A condition! She tried to raise her hand, tried to slap Zenobia—

“Yes, I know you can transfer that. Do it and I'll remove it. Then I'll punish you more.” Zenobia said, absently.

Chase let her hand drop. The pain throbbed and grew in her leg, and she gasped as the woman let her go and she bounced off the floor. Knocking her broken ankle against the ground didn't help any, and she shrieked her pain to the world.

But even through her distraction, through the haze in her brain, her ears were still sharp.

PER+1

“Come on,” she heard Zenobia whisper. “Come on you vermin...”

Cold clarity came over Chase.

She's doing two things at once. She's interrogating me and trying to lure them out.

“Wait!” Chase shouted.

Zenobia paused. “Who hired the Mercenaries?” She turned, reached toward Chase's other leg.

She thought I was talking to her? Okay, okay, good. The Camerlengo could see through lies, yes. But she was still capable of making mistakes. Still mortal, whatever the source of her strength might be.

And she thought that time was on her side.

To be fair, it was. When the dragon came, Chase and all her friends would be lost.

But they had a few cards heading toward the table now too.

The trick was to stall just enough. But not too long.

This was a gamble. If she did it right, it would probably net her another level. But all the levels in the world didn't mean a thing if Zenobia crushed her skull.

“The Mercenaries...” Chase let her voice trail off into a groan.

The Camerlengo's gloved fingers grabbed her other foot.

“They... no! Please don't!”

“Talk!”

“Wait! You understand me? Wait!”

She hoped they understood her, because she knew what was coming in about thirty seconds. Thirty long, horrible seconds. Chase filled it with sobbing.

Then new pain exploded and she screamed, not having to fake the sobs, not with that pain added on to the new one. Two broken ankles, and she could barely see, red flaring in her vision.

You have been afflicted with the broken legs condition!

“Speranza!” Chase howled. “Speranza hired the Mercenaries!”

“Speranza.” The Camerlengo gasped. “Oh you little fool. Remove Condition.”

Zenobia Bigutanku has removed your broken legs condition!

You have been afflicted with the broken leg condition!

Chase gasped, as the pain lessened... mostly. She wiggled her right foot, found it fine. She wiggled her left foot—

—nope. Nope, that was a mistake.

It was some consolation that the howling bought her more precious seconds.

“What the hells were you thinking? You trust that snake?” Chase blinked as she realized Zenobia was speaking again.

“No, not really,” Chase said, when she could talk again. Her voice sounded ragged, her throat raw from screaming. “We've taken steps to keep from being her slaves. They might be enough to stop her. I don't know.”

“She's another reason we emptied the city,” the Camerlengo said, flatly. “We couldn't risk her getting to a fully-occupied major city. So in essence, Gnome burned because of your actions, you little worm. You drove us to this point. Their blood, the ashes of the fallen... they're all your fault.”

“Like...” Chase gasped. “Like your father beating you was your fault? That's nonsense and you know it.”

“Shut up!” The Camerlengo's arm blurred, and stone cracked, right next to Chase's head. Feather-light caresses, and Chase shrieked as a red '41' floated up above her.

Shrapnel from the cracked floor, Chase knew. Just lucky she hadn't lost an eye.

“Wait!” Chase shouted again.

The Camerlengo scowled... then paused, looking around her warily, scanning the hall. “You're not talking to me! You're telling them to wait! You little...”

“Little. Little. You keep coming back to that,” Chase said, struggling up on her elbows. Her dress slipped, and the Camerlengo averted her eyes, just for a second.

Something I can use? Maybe, Chase thought. This was war, this was far out of her control, and anything she could use as a weapon was fair. This wasn't a glorious fight like the adventures she'd read. It was a psychotic, damaged human with far too much power who could literally murder her with one good swing... and was rapidly running out of reasons not to murder her.

So naturally, knowing it was risking far too much, Chase decided to taunt her torturer.

“What does my size matter?” Chase asked, glaring at Zenobia. “You're twice my height and you don't have even a fraction of my friends.”

The woman's eyes went wide.

And then the light changed.

Both women paused, and looked around. The dragonfire had died outside, and the broken glass windows were dark.

“The signals have stopped,” Zenobia said, tapping her ear again. “Wait. Dolls?” She glared down at Chase. “You have an Animator on your side now?”

“Nope,” Chase said, perfectly truthful.

“Well someone's swarming us with dolls. Not that it'll do much good. Your friends are as useless as you are.”

“Useless,” Chase said, massaging her ankle. “Ahh... Ow. Useless. Right. That's why you went to so much effort to trap me. Sure. Useless.”

A glint of light from above, and Chase didn't dare look. The rafters had been exposed by the Wizaard's entrance. Someone was moving up there, she was sure of it.

For a miracle, Zenobia didn't notice.

“You don't know where the crystal is. That lowers your utility to me. You're a bargaining chip to get Thomasi to come in quietly, but we know where he is and once Barriano is committed he can't stop us from retrieving him. And Pwner... well. You're nothing to him.”

“Then why not kill me now?” Chase asked. She swallowed. Her throat was dry, dry, dry. All the screaming had taken a toll.

“Perhaps I WILL!” The Camerlengo roared! She raised her mace up...

PER+1

WILL+1

...but Chase saw the bluff.

And pushed past her fear.

“Do it!” She screamed, pushing up to her knees, ignoring the tearing pain, and pointing straight up at the woman's sneering face. “Do it then! Get it over with! Do it!”

And Zenobia's eyes widened as she realized that once more, Chase wasn't actually talking to her.

A crack.

A groan.

And Chase screamed in surprise as the floor collapsed under her. Under them both as Zenobia howled in shock and fell.

A snap.

A sudden stop.

Chase's legs flailed, and she almost blacked out as her broken ankle whipped around with the momentum.

As the air caught her, and sped her up, up and away from the rapidly-widening hole and cloud of dust where the tiled floor had been moments ago.

“Carpentry!” Greta yelled as she rose on the wooden dragon's back, brandishing a saw and a hammer. “Carpentry for the win, you sporca fica!”

“Greta!” Chase gasped at the vulgarity... and then the air carried her up, up and out the door to where Renny was gesturing furiously. Next to him the Muscle Wizaard stood, watching the dust furiously, arms spread in a familiar gesture.

The second Chase was past him, he grinned widely. “Signature Move, You Shall Not Pass!” he boomed.

And Chase collapsed with a sigh as Renny caught her, the little foot-high fox bearing the weight of a girl three times his size.

The queen was out of checkmate.

“So,” Chase said. “Tell me there's a second part to this plan,” she said, reaching for her jar of worms. “Transfer Condition.”

Oooh, oh, that felt good. Her ankle popped back into place, bones and tendons knitting as a worm doubtlessly felt a very confused feeling for a second.

“Yep!” Renny said, setting her down. “Part two, guys! Get'em!”

Dragonfire flared as Renny's friend did her job, blasting down into the hole into the cellar. Greta stowed the carpentry tools and clung on for dear life, laughing maniacally.

A small horde of dolls rushed out from the room behind them, porcelain feet clinking on the remnants of the tile as they leaped into the hole.

“The dolls are through the Inquisition guards already?” Chase asked, surprised. “Wait. Where's Corinthia?”

“Back dealing with the southern wall. This is the group from the eastern wall. They weren't needed there. He dealt with them.”

“He's here? Already?” Chase took a breath. Then she stared at the wooden dragon. “I'm sorry. It's been a long night. What is your friend's name again?”

“Madeline.”

She weighed her options.

“Is Carmina gone?”

“I haven't seen her.”

“She's a Burglar... well, she's a bad one. And not as trustworthy...”

She held Madeline's life in her hand, and Madeline was here, now, and helping. That made her decision, really. “Kick Yubai from Party. Invite Madeline to party.”

You have removed Yubai from your party!

Madeline has joined your party!

A flapping of leather wings, and a creaking of wooden joints, and the small dragon flew over to touch down. “Cahn't see worth a damn. Pretty sure we didn't get her. Hi, I'm Renny's rahd home, you'd be the halven he stuck around with, yah?”

“Yah. Yes,” Chase said. “Where is the exit from the cellar? She's probably heading for it now.”

A crackle of shattering porcelain.

A doll flew out of the dust to land before them, broken and showing bones through the holes.

“Orrrr.... she could just be killing her way out,” Chase said, staring at the twitching undead doll. “That too.”

“We boarded up the exit,” Greta said, hopping off the dragon. “But it's all burning down there and she's got those murder doll thingies to fight.”

“That will slow her down, it won't finish her,” Chase said, struggling to her feet. “But... we don't need to finish her, do we?”

“Yes,” Speranza said. “Yes we do.”

The woman strode through the blasted remnants of the front door.

And behind her, a pack of halven-sized creatures surged in. Chase's breath caught in her throat as she realized what she was looking at.

Some were the Mercenaries that Speranza had hired. Some wore green chainmail, and bore miniature halberds.

But all of them were twisted, shrunken, almost-withered-looking. And they poured in like water through a sieve, spreading out to form a solid wall of flesh and armor between Chase and her friends and the player.

“Speranza?” Chase asked, her voice rising. “You used your song.”

“I had to,” Speranza snapped. “We were losing. And it doesn't matter now anyway.”

Another crash, and three more dolls sailed out of the settling dust.

Speranza ducked a flying tiny limb, then stood, gazing at them with cool contempt. “You have a chance to finish this, and you want to run. No. No, we're not doing this. I'll see her dead for what she's done to me.”

“Who is this?” Madeline asked. “Should I bahn her? She looks like she needs a good bahning. Sounds like it too.”

“”No!” Chase shouted. “No. No burning. Look. I understand. You want to settle this. I can't fault you. Let us go and run out of range before you sing. Please.”

Speranza lowered her head.

When she raised it again her face was a mask of sorrow. But her eyes gave it away. Anger, resentment, scorn... “No. I'm sorry. My minions won't be enough to hold her off alone. I need her to chew her way through you first, to give my song time to work.”

“You jerk!” Renny said, pointing at her. “I'll—”

And instantly found himself staring at twenty small crossbows, as the Mercenaries took aim at him simultaneously.

“Do it and you die,” Speranza said. Then she tapped a broach. “And even if they all somehow miss, the items I bought to get through her defenses should handle your parlor tricks. I bought themwhen I hired my troops. You shouldn't have left me to my own devices, dear.”

A last crunch of porcelain.

Silence.

Then a creaking, a final crack, and Zenobia came up out of the hole, hurtling upward to land on the edge of the hole.

BLAM!

A red '98' rose from her head, but she shook it off. From across the way Cagna cursed and retreated—

—not that it mattered. The Camerlengo set her eyes on the Speranza.

“Oh you fools,” she whispered.

Then she was charging...

...and Speranza sang.

Chase closed her eyes. All her planning, her biggest gamble, her ace in the hole; It all came down to this, here and now.

The song echoed through the hall, beautiful and haunting and ethereal. It rose like an angel's cry, beckoning Chase's heart along with it. It spoke of love and acceptance and loyalty unto death.

But it was just a song.

A tugging at her hands, and she opened her eyes to see Renny dragging her back, saw The Muscle Wizaard pivoting to slide his invisible wall around and let the Camerlengo through.

Madeline looked confused, but followed. Greta scrambled back with her.

And Speranza's eyes were wide with shock but she kept singing, pointing at the weeping, charging Camerlengo with a silent command.

Crossbow bolts sheeted into Zenobia, piercing her armor. She stumbled but didn't break stride.

Halberds snapped down, points glittering as they formed a wall of steel between her and the player.

She snapped them with a sweep of the mace, ignored the few that jabbed into her unarmored limbs, gouging flesh.

Halberd blades and longswords hissed as they cleaved air, slashing her armor, tracing lines of blood where they cut through.

She ignored them, howling in fury and despair, chopping with her sword and smashing her mace like a demon driven.

But even as Chase watched, she could tell the Inquisitor was in trouble.

She was shrinking.

It was barely noticeable at first. Just a trick of the firelight she thought.

But no. After the second group of Mercenaries fell, she was sure of it. She'd lost inches in the time it had taken to slaughter Speranza's first pack of minions.

By the time the second pack had fallen, she was down a full foot, at least.

And her strength was flagging.

The mace fell to the ground, cracking tile and splattering in the pools of blood she'd left.

The Camerlengo staggered, taking her sword in both hands.

Though small, though reduced, she still had her immense strength and she shoved the last few Mercenaries aside. Speranza stood before her, alone and unguarded... but still singing.

Sweat stood out on the player's face, making it shine wet in the firelight.

A step. Two. Three. The Camerlengo lost another foot of height, raising the blade above her head, readying the killing strike...

Chase saw it. Saw the moment she was lost. Read it in her body language as the Inquisitor's heart finished turning.

No bigger than Chase now, if that. She let the blade fall from nerveless fingers and knelt there before her new master. Bleeding from hundreds of wounds, torn and battered and weary, the black-armored woman kissed Speranza's feet.

Triumphant, the Siren raised her gaze...

...and halted, staring at Chase.

“How?” Speranza asked.

“We knew you were going to betray us,” Chase said, simply. “We prepared for it. We planned for it. You can come out now,” she said, glancing upward.

The figure on the rafters shifted. But the response came from across the way.

“Yo,” Dijornos said, armored boots clanking on the floor as he walked out of a side-passge. “How they hanging, Spazzy?”

His armor was forged anew, the glowing blue eyes of the lion breastplate cutting through the settling dust, and his open-faced helm revealing his scarred, grinning face in all his glory.

“How... no! This doesn't make sense! You betrayed her, then you threw a fit and left!” Speranza shouted.

Dijornos just laughed.

“Yes.” Chase smiled. “That's what we wanted you to think.” Then she shook her head. “Wait, if you're there, then who—”

She snapped her head skyward, at the shadowy figure above threw its cloak open, and bandoliers of vials gleamed in the firelight.

Pwner! She realized. He's been here all along!

And she watched, helplessly as he gave a little wave, lit a match, then touched it to a bundle of strings. With a hissing noise the fire raced up the fuses, as he spoke for the first time. “Activate Teleport.”

The world turned white.

CHASE'S CHARACTER SHEET

Spoiler: Spoiler

Name: Chase Berrymore

Age: 15 Years

Jobs:

Halven level 12, Cook level 5, Archer level 9, Gambler Level 7, Grifter level 14, Medium level 8, Oracle level 17, Painter level 2, Teacher level 6

Attributes / Pools / Defenses

Strength: 75 Constitution: 44 / Hit Points: 119 / Armor: 10

Intelligence: 73 Wisdom: 134 / Sanity: 207 / Mental Fortitude: 60

Dexterity: 144 Agility: 70 / Stamina: 214 / Endurance: 0

Charisma: 233 Willpower: 61 / Moxie: 294 / Cool: 72

Perception: 130 Luck: 269 / Fortune: 399 / Fate: 51

Generic Skills

Archery – Level 1

Brawling – Level 8

Climb – Level 15

Dagger – Level 2

Dodge – Level 13

Fishing – Level 14

Ride – Level 10

Stealth – Level 19

Swim – Level 7

Throwing – Level 31

Halven Skills

Fate’s Friend – Level N/A

Small in a Good Way – Level N/A

Cook Skills

Cooking - Level 20

Dishwasher – Level N/A

Freshen - Level 12

Archer Skills

Aim – Level 9

Demoralizing Shot – Level 6

Far Shot – Level 1

Missile Mastery – Level N/A

Quickdraw – Level N/A

Rapid Fire – Level N/A

Razor Arrow – Level 8

Ricochet Shot – Level 21

Gambler Skills

Ace in the Hole – Level 2

Ante Up – Level 8

Assess Challenge – Level N/A

Cardsharp – Level 9

Deadly Dice – Level 1

Double Down – Level 1

Gambler’s Fortune – Level N/A

Hold’em – Level N/A

Grifter Skills

Feign Death – Level 7

Fools Gold – Level 4

Forgery – Level 11

Master of Disguise – Level 15

Old Buddy – Level 7

Pickpocket – Level 21

Silent Activation – Level 36

Silver Tongue – Level 34

Size Up – Level 9

Unflappable – Level N/A

Medium Skills

Bad Fortune – Level 17

Crystal Ball – Level 10

Focus Vision – Level 5

Fortuna – Level N/A

Good Fortune – Level 18

Palmistry – Level N/A

Séance – Level N/A

Stack Deck – Level N/A

Oracle Skills

Absorb Condition – Level N/A

Afflict Self – Level 1

Diagnose – Level N/A

Divine Pawn – Level N/A

Foresight – Level 46

Grant Vision Level 7

Influence Fate – Level 14

Lesser Healing – Level 51

Omens and Portents – Level N/A

Random Buff – Level 9

Short Vision – Level 17

Transfer Condition – Level 15

Painter Skills

Fast Dry – Level N/A

Painting – Level 5

Teacher Skills

Lecture – Level 24

Red Ink – Level 3

Smarty Pants – Level N/A

Unlocked Jobs

Farmer, Herbalist

Gear

Enrico’s Last Hand

Light Leather Armor