I had been concerned that the guard would not let me through the town gate with my snazzy new mace in one hand, but lax security came to my rescue again. Walking into Rocky Shore was a very different experience this time than it had been the first time. I appreciated, not for the first time, that the world is just a different place when you have money. For example, the stores that had been previously full of absurd luxuries I couldn't afford were now stocked with useful necessities that I could afford. The small bakeries had taken down their displays of sumptuous treats to make my own meager meals all the blander, and had replaced them with identical displays of nice things for me to enjoy. By the time I was finishing my third danish (they came in raspberry, lemon curd, and cream filled varieties) I was starting to appreciate just what the sixteen silver coins I had received from my Unseelie patron (now fifteen silver and a handful of copper) was really worth. I had the equivalent of what Digby's little shop produced in a year, at least as far the authorities were concerned. It was a time to do a bit of shopping.

I would have to upgrade my wardrobe quite a bit to even be allowed into the kind of shops that dominated the more upscale parts of time. A few coins wouldn't buy me much in those places, and it might attract unwanted attention. Still, the more modest boutiques were now ready to offer me their treasures. Soon, I found myself walking through the streets looking like an ordinary citizen of modest means. A leather goods merchant provided me with new leather boots with a fur trim, a new leather belt with a cuff for my mace and a sheath for my dagger, and best of all: a large sturdy traveler's pack that I could use to carry all my other gear. I also purchased the standard necessities that no adventurer should be without: A thirty-foot coil of sturdy hempen rope, an iron lantern, a simple set of cookware to serve as a mess kit, a bedroll, and a tinder box. With these accouterments I was ready to travel anywhere and do anything. The world was my oyster.

I really hoped I wouldn't come to regret accepting help from the Queen. She hadn't required me to make any sort of commitment in return, and I'm sure that what she had given to me did not amount to much for someone with her powers, but this made me all the more uneasy. It was as though there was a part of me standing in the corner of my mind, with arms crossed, tapping his foot disapprovingly as I made my purchases. The other shoe was bound to drop, and the fact that I didn't know when or how made it worse.

After my day of furious acquisition, I decided to do something I hadn't had the means to do since I had first arrived in this world: I went out for a drink. There was an inn near the front gates that I had passed a dozen times at least, and now that I could walk in without fear of being thrown out I decided to do so. The sign above the door had no writing, just the crudely drawn image of some kind of scrawny quadruped with sunken eyes and visible ribs.

“Good Evening. Welcome to the Starving Mule. What can I get you?”

I had to do a double take as I walked in. The waitress (actually, “barmaid” might be her actual position) who had greeted me was familiar. It was none other than Brit. Her eye widened as she recognized me, and I had to recall that I had promised to keep our original meeting a secret.

“A beer to start out, and...you have anything to eat?” I said, in a voice that I hoped came across as nonchalant.

Brit showed me to a seat at the bar and sat a mug of beer and bowl of very garlicky onion soup in front of me. I sipped thoughtfully and surveyed the inn. It was a fairly nice place. Clean tables, a warm fire, the walls coated in hunting trophies and random bric-a-brac. Half a dozen other men were seated nearby, although not a lot of conversation was happening. In fact, most of the men seemed to be focusing on finishing their drinks. I knew that I was a stranger in a fairly small town, but this degree of stand-offishness was suspicious. Had I done something that had given me a reputation? Nothing that these guys should have heard of. Brit had told me to that this town was unfriendly and that I should move on as soon as possible. Maybe she was right.

Then I noticed something. The way that the bar patrons had arranged themselves was strangely uneven. Five men, ranging in age from late teens to elderly, were sitting near the bar. Two of them were speaking to each other quietly, as though they were trying not to be overheard. The other three were silent. On the other side of the main room, sitting alone and facing the bar, was a wiry man in a very distinctive bowler hat. He wasn't tucked away in a corner, but sat front and center as though he wanted to be seen. He had an empty bowl to one side, and a notebook in front of him. I realized that I was now the only one that was looking at him. He was watching the bar patrons like a critic watching a play, and they not only accepted this, they were unwilling to look back at him. I could tell by the way their eyes and hands moved that they were bothered by his presence, but no one confronted him or even glanced in his direction. This was fear, and I had no obvious explanation for it. I immediately thought to fish out my Serpent's Egg to see if he was a Fae of some kind, but couldn't think of way to do so without looking even more suspicions than I already did. I contented myself with simply sipping my beer and listening, trying to catch what little conversation there was to be had.

I found myself thinking of my conversation with the Unseelie Queen. She had seemingly pledged her support to me unilaterally, without demanding anything specific of me. This didn't seem like a “dark fae” way to behave, and I couldn't help but wonder what her real motives might be. She said that I would “do as my conscience dictates” and that I would feel “compelled to act”. So far, I hadn't felt compelled to act in any particular manner. There had been that incident with Kaapo and Jamil, but that had been more recklessness than anything to do with conscience. What was it they knew about me that made them interested in me? Were they really interested in me at all, or were they just trying to hire cheap dumb muscle?

I glanced around and realized that I had allowed my mind to run adrift. I had lost the thread of the conversation nearby.

“...in nearly two years, and when was the last time you saw anyone bringing anything over the road, apart from the supplies for this bar? I heard that they're thinking of setting up a brewery here in town, so that'll stop as well.” said a rotund man with a neatly combed mustache and a very bushy beard.

“That's only because of all the bandits. Overseas trade is doing fine.” said an older and much smaller gentleman with a white goatee.

“Symptom of the same basic problem. You need patrols and maintenance to keep roads in working order. Ganth just isn't interested in maintaining them. No longer a priority.”

“There's not going to be a brewery in town. You know that.”

“There probably already is one. Lots of places where they could operate out of sight.”

“Not the point. Too small a scale to make any difference. This place will be supplied by sea before too long. Mark me.”

“That'll be a serious dent in my drinking budget.”

“It's a bigger problem than that. Suppose a war breaks out and Lotterheim gets blockaded? All at once, this town would be all by its lonesome. No beer, barely any food. We'd have to pack up and walk out of here.”

“We'd still be connected to Silva.”

I could almost hear the eye-role. “You really think Silva gives a toss about Rocky Shore? They won't send a big ship here just to supply us. We eat the crumbs that fall from their lips. Nothing more.”

“So where are we then? You think Ganth will just forget us?”

“They already have. A city of a million souls doesn't care about a little town of a few hundred unless it absolutely has to. With trade opening in the east, why bother with a long, expensive road? No, we just need to forget about Ganth. The magistrate clearly has.”

“So, what will we do then? Set ourselves up as an independent state?”

“Independent? There's nothing independent about us. If overseas trade breaks down, this town will be abandoned. Swallowed up by the woods.”

“Now that's no way to talk. We have a lot here. There's the lumber mill, and all the fishing...”

The older man interrupted. “Side businesses, that's all. Lumber is mostly for ship repairs and warehouses. Sea is too uncertain to make fishing a consistent food supply. No, if I were running Garth-Morhead...”

There was silence. When I glanced over, the two men were just looking awkwardly at one another. The silence in the bar seemed to be catching.

I had a strong urge to go have a word with the guy in the bowler hat, but without knowing who he was or what he represented that would probably make things worse. The fact that the two barflies had clammed up when the conversation turned toward Garth-Morhead suggested that he was some sort of company man, maybe someone who was keeping tabs on the general feelings of the locals. I decided to pursue a less direct investigation. I finished the last of the beer and gestured to get Brit's attention.

“Do you have any rooms available?” I asked. She nodded and led me up the stairs to the second floor. There was a small landing with three doors. She opened the one in the back, and showed me a simple but decent room.

“Could we speak privately?” I muttered. Her fearful look was back, but she gently closed the door behind us none the less.

“Who is the man in the bowler hat?” I asked.

“I told you before, this is not a place for you. You need to move on. Don't get involved.”

“Don't get involved in what?” I kept my voice low, as I didn't trust the sound insulation of this little room.

“I don't know anything. The less you know, the safer you are. When I was younger, I tried asking questions too. I even left town and tried exploring the woods. That's how I lost this.” She tapped the flap of skin that had once been an eye.

“Alright. I respect your wishes, and I don't want to put you in danger. But there's something I want you to understand, all the same.”

She didn't respond. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. I wasn't sure exactly what I was about to say. I just looked into her eye, and tried to give her the message that she most needed.

“Human beings are not born to live in fear. I don't understand what's wrong with this town, but I know fear when I see it. You shouldn't have to live like this. You deserve better. I've seen what you're like in battle. I know what you're made of. Living in fear is beneath you. You're higher on the pecking order than you think. Understand?”

She was really crying now. She had seemed so harsh and reserved on the cart. I hadn't expected my words to have that kind of effect on her.

“The world is about to change. The old way of doing things is not going to survive. The people that you are afraid of will not be on top for much longer. Things are about to get very complicated and strange. Anything you can tell me would be helpful.”

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She hung her head in shame. She wanted to tell me, I could see that much. She didn't believe that she was really the person I had seen in the forest, the one who had rushed into danger to save Reuben. But she wanted to be. That was enough for now. I opened the door and headed for the stairs.

The bar had undergone a surprising transformation while had been absent. The bar patrons that had been drinking when I left were now absent. The man in the bowler hat had also vanished. At the foot of the stairs were six rough-looking men. They were doing their best to look intimidating, and by virtue of trying had automatically failed. It was clear that I was the one they were here to see. I had half expected bowler hat to summon the town guards if he perceived me as the threat that I clearly am. I guess he had a squad of goons to do his dirty work. I walked down the stairs as nonchalantly as I could, as though I expected them to part to let me past.

“Pardon me, gentleman.” I said as they blocked my path.

“I don't think so.” said the leader of the bunch. He had a little scar on his cheek that looked too neat and pretty to be genuine. “You need to learn to show proper respect. You think you can stroll in here and eyeball people like you own the place?”

“Well, if I've offended anyone, I certainly apologize. I was just looking for a meal and place to spend the night.” I didn't have any real expectation of talking my way out of this, but I wanted to force them to make the first move. This was probably intended to be the “scary” squad. If they actually wanted to murder me, they would be a little sneakier about it and do it where they had plausible deniability. I could tell they had lost a little of their momentum. They might think that I'm an idiot for not being afraid, but I had succeeded in making them nervous.

“Too late for that, mister. You're coming with us.” he replied.

“I'm sorry, I don't believe we've been introduced.” I extended a hand. “The name's Raymond. Pleasure to meet you.”

He glanced at my extended hand with annoyance. I wasn't following the script that he had prepared for this encounter.

“We don't care who you are!” said one of the toughs behind him. Scarface turned to glare at the offender. That part had also not been in the script. He returned his glare to me.

“This is a nice little town. We don't care for people who try to intimidate our citizens.”

I forced a guffaw. It wasn't convincing, but I didn't really need it to be. “Who in the world is intimidated by me? Folks around here must scare easily.”

Long knives appeared out of sheaths. They were upping their game. They had been sent to frighten me, to make me walk around with my eyes downcast like everyone else. They were getting desperate if they had to actually display their implements.

“I'd re-think that if I were you. Are you fellows getting paid enough to risk imprisonment?”

Scarface scoffed, and it seemed pretty genuine. He now thought that I had been counting on local constabulary to protect me.

“You're the one taking a risk here, Mr. Raymond. We're not the guys who toss you in jail. We're the ones who make sure you're never heard of again.”

He advanced up the stairs, readying his long knife for a thrusting attack. I snatched my mace from my belt and raised it above my head. Too late, the man recognized that the stairs gave me a crippling advantage in height while making it impossible to surround me. But he couldn't very well back off now after giving me his little speech. He lunged forward, and I kicked him square in the chest. He tumbled backward in pain and fell heavily onto his back, which probably hurt him more than the kick. The man behind him jumped past him and slashed at me, scoring a shallow cut on my right leg. I brought my mace down, scoring a heavy tap on the crown of his head. I didn't hit with full force. He only fell to the ground screaming in pain with blood pouring over his face. A real blow would've caved his skull in. He tumbled backward, dribbling blood over the stairs as he went. The remaining three were looking quite a bit less certain of themselves.

“Do I have to kill one of you to make you take this seriously?” I asked. I was really hoping that they would back down, but if anything their resolve seemed to harden at my words. I decided that I really needed to improve my Intimidation skill if I was going to keep trying to use it. My advantage of superior strength would not save me from getting stabbed to death, and if these fellows surrounded me they might be strong enough to subdue me.

The three men fanned out. Two positioned themselves on my right, hoping to get in a lucky stab through the rails of the staircase. The other began cautiously advancing up the stairs, crouching and using his weapon to menace rather than make an attack. I plucked my dagger from my belt with my left hand and threw it at him, but it landed pommel-first and just bounced off his shoulder. I guessed I should probably practice throwing that thing if I ever got it back. My failed attack emboldened my attackers, and I found myself being forced up the stairs to avoid the blades thrusting through the rails at my unprotected legs.

The thought of throwing the mace occurred to me, but even on the off chance that worked, it would leave me practically defenseless. A mace is a long way from being a fencing weapon, but I was strong enough to almost be able to use it as one. The goons had captured the stairs, but I now had an even better choke-point on the landing. I watched the one in front carefully, seeing how he positioned himself, watching the muscles jerk into motion. I caught his blade on my mace and forced it aside, and at the same instant, gave him a hard jab with my left fist. It wasn't enough to finish him, but he lost his balance on the stairs and fell backward onto his comrade. To my surprise, a blade sprouted from his shoulder. He had fallen onto his compatriot's weapon. Sensing my opportunity, I charged the weakened formation and I sent my mace crashing into the tangled mass of bodies. I didn't hold back this time. Blood and brain splattered against me as my weapon slammed down. That was it. No turning back now, I was a killer, and I always would be.

There were now two armed men still in action out of the original five. If the man I had just killed was their friend, they would probably want to take revenge. On the other hand, if they had no particular love for one another, the fact that I had increased the stakes might convince them to take the better part of valor. This time, I elected to remain silent while they deliberated.

My patience was rewarded with the sight of the two men making their graceful exit from the Starving Mule. I was surprised that they didn't take Scarface or their other wounded companion with them. I was perfectly free to finish them off if I chose to.

“You need to get out of here. Now.” Brit was behind me. Her eyes were still puffy, but the hardness had returned to her face.

I glanced down at myself. The cut on my leg had been bleeding freely for a while, and my mace was coated in blood and brains. I looked like a maniac in the midst of a killing spree.

“What about the town guards? Shouldn't I stick around to explain what happened? If I leave now, I'll be a fugitive.”

She shook her head, in a “what an idiot” sort of way. That felt a bit unfair. How was I supposed to understand this town's political setup if no none told me anything?

“If the guards catch you, you'll be taken before the magistrate and then beheaded. No one is going to take the side of a stranger who has killed a local.”

“I was defending myself.” I said. I felt certain, even as I said it, that this would make no difference, but I just couldn't accept a world where I could be assaulted by five criminals and then get arrested for winning.

“Justice does not matter. Only power.” she said this like she was reciting a well-worn phrase. Maybe that was just something that parents taught their children in this world.

Within three minutes, I left the Starving Mule via the rear exit. I had just had time to splash some dirty water over myself and clean off the worst of the blood and viscera. The cold hit me like a brick as I left, the water in my hair and beard immediately froze. It was after dark now, and if I was on the street much longer, the night patrols were likely to stop me even if they knew nothing about the incident at the inn. Moving hurriedly but trying to look like I wasn't, I made my way back toward Dogberry Lane. I hoped that Digby could shed some light on who exactly I had just pissed off, and how much trouble I was now in. I headed for the disreputable southern section of town, where people seemed to be generally friendlier and the guards were less likely to patrol.

I considered simply skipping town and making my way in the wilds, now that I had the necessary equipment. It would suck having to camp during the winter months, but frankly, at that moment civilization seemed like more trouble than it was worth. But, I just wasn't willing to run away and let the assholes have everything their own way. I thought of the “Quests Abandoned” line from my character sheet. Like or not, I was on a quest now, and I needed to see it through.

As I trudged along the narrow street, I noticed the lanterns of a patrol ahead. Hoping they hadn't seen me, I turned toward the east and tried to bypass it. Before long, another set of rough-looking men were gathered in my path. An hour ago I would have just walked past them, but now people were after me, and I had no way of knowing which people or how many there were. I made another left, this time heading toward the main thoroughfare, where such gatherings should be uncommon. I felt like I was being herded further from my destination. The church loomed in front of me.

I paused. I hadn't had a chance to look at my character sheet since I left the Shrine of Initiation. That felt like months ago, although it had been less than ten days. With everything that I had been through since then, there was every chance that I had leveled up. A couple more attribute points could make a significant difference to my circumstances, and supposedly temples were one of the places I could spend them at. The church had always been closed to me during the day, but the place should be empty at night. And it had a chimney.

I glanced around to see if anyone was watching. The streets were mostly deserted, and no patrols were nearby. I attempted to free-climb the corner of the structure. The bricks were somewhat uneven, giving me plenty of handholds to work with, but I still struggled a little before I got the hang of the climb. I would have to add this to the list of skills I needed to work on. I didn't see a career in burglary in my future, but being able to shimmy up trees or building to escape enemies would be very practical. Giving thanks for the dim moonlight, I finally reached the chimney. It was large enough to accommodate me if I removed my pack first, so I tied my rope around it and slowly lowered myself toward the hearth. I stopped and listened to see if anyone was in the church. All I heard was the scampering of tiny feet across the floor, most likely a rat.

It took a lot of adjustment to actually escape from the hearth. I wasn't as flexible as I would like to be. I'd hate to have to to this with a time constraint. The interior of the church was almost pitch black, with only the dimmest moonlight penetrating through the stained-glass windows.

My newly purchased lantern was, of course, safely stowed away in my pack on the roof, and I was in no mood to retrieve it. I simply had to wait for my eyes to adjust to the very dim light. After a couple minutes, I was surprised at how much more manageable the darkness became. Of course, this rather plain-looking chapel had nothing as impressive as the dragon sculpture from the shrine of initiation, but I guessed that the main podium was the most likely place for the game to stick it's access point. I placed my hand on the simple wooden lectern.

***Congratulations! You have discovered the Rocky Shore Chapel!***

This temple is not dedicated to any deity or concept. All services that require Piety are currently unavailable.

Services currently available from the Rocky Shore Chapel:

View Character Sheet (0 Piety)

System Query (3 Remaining)

Fantastic. The interface at of this boring semi-church didn't have any of the bells and whistles that the Shrine of Initiation had, but that's what toothless, undemanding psuedo-spirituality gets you. It still had everything I needed. A place to heal up would have been a major asset, but the small cut on my leg had stopped bleeding anyway. I opened my character sheet.

Raymond Garrison

Level 4 Human Wanderer

XP: 11/50

HP:26/28

Stamina: 24/32

Strength:15 -Staggering Blow

Dexterity: 10

Constitution:12

Intelligence: 12

Wisdom:15 -Iron Eyes

Charisma: 8

2 Attribute points unspent

2 Specializations ready for selection

As I had hoped, I was now level 4. That meant I had important choices to make. First, my attributes.

You have 2 unspent attribute points, which you can spend in the following ways:

1. Increase you Strength from 15 to 16. (2)

2. Increase your Dexterity from 10 to 11. (1)

3. Increase your Constitution from 12 to 13. (1)

4. Increase your Intelligence from 12 to 13. (1)

5. Increase your Wisdom from 15 to 16. (2)

6. Increase your Charisma from 8 to 9. (1)

7. Open the First Gate of Destiny (2)

I decided I didn't want to succumb to choice paralysis. There were plenty of worthwhile options of how to spend my points, but what I wanted to do now was shore up some of my moderate stats. One more point of Strength or Wisdom probably wouldn't make an enormous difference, so I chose 1 point of Intelligence and 1 point of Constitution.

You have increased your Intelligence from 12 to 13!

Cognitive Speed: 115%

Cognitive Capacity: 115%

4 Skill Talents (+2)

1 Major Skill Talent (+4)

Training Cap 3

+1 to Knowledge and Lore Abilities

Learning 4/10

You can now acquire skill in Disciplines, such as Occult, Physics, and Engineering.

One of your skill talents has upgraded to a Major Skill Talent. Please select the skill you wish to improve. Your options are: Reflexes, Endurance, Focus, Awareness, Insight.

The familiar buzzing feeling swept through my brain as my thoughts picked up speed. Which skill to improve? I shifted tabs to my skill section. As expected, there were now a list of Intelligence-based skills there where once there had only been Medicine. However, what I was really interested in was gain a new skill specialization. Odd though it was to choose for an Intelligence improvement, there was only one skill that was close to that threshold.

You have increased your Endurance skill to +6! At skill level 5, you may choose your skill specialization. Choose carefully, as you may not have the opportunity to change your mind later. Your options are:

Opera Lungs- Hold your breath twice as long.

Desert Wanderer- All effects caused by heat or light deal half as much damage and last half as long.

Ice Walker- All effects caused by cold or wind deal half as much damage and last half as long.

Marathon Runner- Running costs half as much stamina.

Iron Body- Take half damage from explosions and blunt impacts.

Feel no Pain- Immune to physical or magical pain.

These effects were really insane. Any one of them represented a major advantage verging on a superpower. I wanted to pick all of them, but I recognized that just by beefing up my Endurance skill I would get a taste of all these abilities. What I really wanted was freedom from this town full of violent assholes. I had been loathing the idea of striking out into the dangerous wilderness just when winter was rearing it's ugly head. Well, I wouldn't have to worry about that if I were an Ice Walker. And why not top it up with another hit of Constitution?

You have increased your Constitution from 12 to 13!

+1 attribute bonus to Endurance, Instinct, Immunity, and Acuity

13 Health plus 5 per level.

13 Stamina plus 3 per level

I luxuriating in feeling of being hale and hardy. The church suddenly felt faintly warm. Glancing at my character sheet, I discovered that 1 point of Constitution had raised my hitpoints by 5. The cut on my leg had only taken 2 off. I wondered for a moment what kind of hideous injuries I could now survive. Turning to more pleasant matters, I opened the two skill specializations that had already been waiting.

You have increased your Insight skill to +5! At skill level 5, you may choose you skill specialization. Choose carefully, as you may not have the opportunity to change your mind later. Your options are:

Spook- Improved ability to identify the fears of others.

Cynic- Improved ability to sense the dark side of the character and motives of others.

Talent Scout- Improved ability to sense the abilities and skills of others.

Salesman- Improved ability to sense the desires of others, as well as what circumstances will bring them happiness.

Compassion- Improved ability to sense pain and sorrow in others.

Introspection- Insight skill is more effective when used on one's self.

My first instinct was to go straight for Cynic. Being able to see into the dark side of of people's hearts would be tremendously useful, especially given my current circumstances. But I stopped myself. I thought of the people I had met in Rocky Shore so far. In most cases, I had seen plenty of the ugliness of human nature. Maybe I was already too prone to see the worst in people. I needed a way to see the good in others. I selected Talent Scout. Knowing the strengths of others would help me to find allies, as well as size up opponents.

You have increased your Awareness skill to +5! At skill level 5, you may choose your skill specialization. Choose carefully, as you may not have the opportunity to change your mind later. Your options are:

One Eye Open- Remain aware of surroundings even while asleep.

Stone Sense- Improved chance to find hidden traps, containers, and passageways.

Combat Prescience- Ability to read and predict the motions of a figure that you can clearly observe.

Echolocation- All abilities that require you to see the target are satisfied if you are able to hear the target.

Seeker- Searching for an item or resource always yields its object if it is available.

Scout Leader: Leadership bonus grants improved Awareness to all party members.

Another good spread of abilities, but only two really worked with my current build. Echolocation would make me a beast to deal with in darkness, while Combat Prescience would improve my combat abilities whenever I could see the enemy clearly. Knowing I would come to regret whatever I left behind, I reluctantly went with Combat Prescience.

I was amazed at how much improving my abilities also improved my mood. I had been feeling so much anxiety and frustration, I had almost forgotten that I was a player, and whatever else may happen to me, I was heir to everything this world had to offer. Suddenly curious, I shifted tabs to my “Assets” page.

Piety: 0

Karma: Unknown

Reputation: 125

Wealth: Poor

Titles Earned: None

Relationships: Limited

Knowledge: Limited

Languages: English (Eloquent), Oesteskommen (Eloquent), Dark Fae (Fluent) Spanish (Simple),

Well, I had come up in the world, if only a little. I was a little curious about how exactly my reputation was calculated to exactly 125. I mentally right-clicked on the number.

Your Politics skill is insufficient to access this information.

I hadn't even known that there was a “Politics” skill. Then again, if a skill could exist, it probably did exist somewhere in the system. My own skills list had become noticeably longer as I either read about them or tried new things. I supposed that if the system listed every skill I could have, the list would just go on and on. Still plenty to work on. I close the interface.

Although I now felt much warmer in the unheated darkness of the chapel, I wasn't looking forward to facing the icy air outside. I began to consider just spending the night here. After all, returning to Digby's shop would mean trying to avoid all the guards and random goons that were after me, and then try to sleep in a place where they probably knew to look for me, which also happened to stink. As long as I was gone before sunrise, this would make an ideal hiding spot. I found a relatively comfortable spot near the fireplace and tried for a few hours sleep.