Redundant invocation of [Appraisal] on Schrödinger's Monkey Pelt> has been denied. Invalid scenario for joint appraisal. Auxiliary objects cannot be equipped by third parties without your consent. NOTE: State and/or position of all auxiliary objects can be brought up on mental request.

He’d tried to appraise his hoodie while the brute had it equipped but he’d received those notifications instead. At least this meant the man couldn’t steal and use the hoodie for himself.

The brute with his hoodie hadn’t stuck around long after confiscating it, but even if he had, Luke wasn’t sure he could’ve taken him down head-on like that. He’d be left lying defeated on the floor, or the guard would manage to hold him off long enough for other guards to step in, but either way, he’d still be down a hoodie. Worse yet, starting an altercation would invite more scrutiny than he would like, so he settled on leaving the matter for later.

Being able to sense the hoodie as the brute made away with it had been a comfort, but no sooner had he started to ease into that comfort did a new notification come to him. It notified him of the hoodie being out of range, which was double the boon for a minor inconvenience. The inconvenience being he temporarily didn’t know where the hoodie, and by extension Brutus was, and the boons being the fact he now knew the hoodie’s connection to him had a range limit, and that he’d know of Brutus’s proximity next time before even seeing him.

With his shadow away on a reporting errant, Luke took that opportunity to clean his clothes. He could’ve fetched a change of clothes from his inventory, but that would be too obvious, so he settled on a quick wash-and-dry, curtesy of his inventory. It had the ability to differentiate between what was foreign, and what was part of an object, and in this case that would be the soapy water and the cloth respectively. With a single command, he removed the soapy water from the clothes he’d lathered, to a particular slot in his inventory, leaving his clothes ready for wear.

That done, he made his way to the common area, which had been appropriated as the dining area for tonight, and the hoodie had returned into range then. A heavy guard presence was in attendance, but he ignored this, making his way towards the table. He’d gained an escort at the door and the middle-aged nurse did not waste time on verbal exchanges, instead, she walked him to a sit near the head and directed him to seat there, near the mayor.

Unsurprisingly, the lady-mercenary sat to the right of the mayor as his guest of honor. To Luke’s surprise, a welcome face occupied the mayor’s right, and that was Gertie. The seat his escort had indicated for him was next to Gertie, which put him at a seat twice removed from the head.

Luke knew this arrangement hadn't been a coincidence, given the history the mayor and Gertie shared. Thoughts of the stout weasel deriving sick pleasure from parading Gertie sent his blood boiling, but the paranoia cooled him just as fast.

What if they suspect Gertie was the one harboring me? He thought, worried that last minute commotion might’ve designated Gertie as a suspect. If so, then placing me next to her might be a way to see how I react, he concluded.

Although such thinking wasn’t that much of a leap, he had guessed wrong, as the mayor would’ve arranged for Gertie to be in attendance regardless. It had just been the icing on the cake that her presence would serve 2 purposes tonight, chief being a buffer between he and his other target of vengeful torture, Luke.

He would’ve loved to torment the former Wind Sword face-to-face, but even with all the guards and the mercenary, he couldn’t be sure he could get away with that unscathed. Thus, he’d settled on delivering his jabs from an extra seat away.

◆◆◆

The rest of the guests trickled in for the next hour, and Luke noted where they were seated, as well as how the mayor reacted to each appearance to get an idea of where each of them stood with him.

With the exception of Gertie, Luke, and the some-what neutral mercenary, all the other attendants were in relatively good books with the mayor. How good could be estimated from how far they were seated from the opposite end of the table, where the mayor’s son-and-deputy, Richard the 2nd held the center seat. The deputy’s personal guard sat on his right, while his youngest brother occupied the seat to his left.

Unlike his father and older brother, Brian had the brawn and brains to field any of his own ambitions, making him quite the challenge for anyone who’d dare cross him. Also, unlike his family members, he refrained from antagonistic behavior, preferring the lists and quests to bullying those who couldn’t defend themselves.

Luke had rarely interacted with him, given the young man was squired to a knight a few towns over, but whenever they’d met, there had always been a quiet respect, and a hint of curiosity on who would walk out the victor, should a clash between them occur. Today though, there was none of that respect, only pity for the fallen Wind Sword’s state.

Luke ignored this and continued down the table, noting the vacant seats next to the deputy’s guard and Brian. The rest of the attendants were placed in pairs, with the Harrow’s occupying the next pair of opposite seats, followed by the Pinkertons, the Ashburns, and then a slew of other families Luke couldn’t identify.

The Ashburns owned and managed timber lands, whilst the Pinkertons handled general goods trade. The Harrows did a bit of everything when it came to farming, since they held most of the arable land in Rammztonn. Had he not heard from Gertie, he wouldn’t’ have guessed she and the middle-aged Harrow, her son, were related. This was the family that had robed her of over 3 decades, and there they sat, thriving, and socializing as if nothing had happened.

◆◆◆

As the other attendants were having their conversations around the table, Luke kept to himself, wishing he had the freedom to talk to Gertie again. Though they were of short acquaintance, she was the realest, if not the only real character on this table of thieves.

The mayor would verbally jab at Luke once in a while, but Luke continually refused to rise to the man’s challenges. This seemed an invitation for him to do more, given the more Luke remained stoic, the more frequent the jabs became. They had started as small jabs about the loss of his affinity, followed by references to the Vallarius’ property he’d bought for scraps, but it was as if they fell on deaf ears, with Luke refusing to bite. With dwindling avenues of attack, the mayor had eventually resorted to what Luke had assumed the man’s lowest card.

“… such a loss, and it’s a shame, you won’t get to live up to your family’s reputation.”

Luke’s ears perked at that. He lifted his head to face the small man who was fast approaching a taboo. At any other time, mayor Richard would’ve known to stop, but confident in the meat shield and the mercenary, he continued on.

“Or who knows, you might live up to at least one aspect of their memory, given your propensity to bite off more than you can chew,” said the mayor, topping it off with a cackle that grated on Luke’s nerves.

Luke made to point a threatening finger at the mayor, but that action was forestalled as a hand snaked over his and held it flat on the table, telling him there would be none of that. Luke stared back at the hoodie thief, Brutus, who’d moved to hold him back. The thief had him on the strength department, as Luke had suspected, but he doubted the man could match him in brains. Taking a gamble, he moved in to test this, whispering something he knew the man would be forced to respond to.

“Did you report the findings of your search to your master?”

The statement had the desired effect, as though it had been visually imperceptible, the pressure on top of Luke’s hand slackened, allowing him to snatch back his hand. Luke had had 2 purposes for that test, the first being to confirm the mayor hadn’t been notified of the object’s protective properties yet, and the second being to antagonize Brutus with that threat.

Seeing as the aptly named brute was yet to report the hoodie, the threat of Luke possibly mentioning it to the mayor would force Brutus to stay close to Luke, and even though nothing the man would say could excuse him should Luke tattle, he’d want to try, nonetheless. Brutus watched Luke warily, and when Luke relaxed into his seat, the guard did the same.

The mayor, who’d missed this whole micro exchange saw Luke’s relaxation as a sign of resignation. His cackle rose in pitch at the pleasure of finally having Luke on the back foot, and though Luke could guess this, he took it like a champ, weathering the cackle with great anticipation of the moment he would tug on the rug.

◆◆◆

As the mayor’s cackles drowned out every other conversation, the mercenary took the opportunity to reach out to Luke. Her message came in a muted lip sync, which she’d signaled by taking an almost empty glass to her lips for an exaggerated gulp. Luke hadn’t missed this, immediately appraising the glass and the woman’s face for insights into what she might be communicating.

‘Watch the floor for a path to the west,’ is what she mouthed. He suspected this would only become relevant at the time of his escape, but he couldn’t resist looking down, and when he did, he found nothing, as expected. A breezy laughter accompanied his head on the trip back up, causing his cheeks to color. I can never win with her, he thought, righting himself in his seat.

The laughter eventually died down and the chatter continued for a brief spell before the courses were introduced, bringing with them clinks and smacks to replace the chatter. All the food looked good, but Luke wouldn’t be lulled into just accepting it by its appearance alone. Luke had initially planned on forgoing all meals, but with many eyes at the table, he couldn’t avoid eating altogether. He’d remembered the mercenary’s warning to watch what he ate, so with this in mind, he called his appraisal on the food.

[Advanced Appraisal] has been activated on the target, … Minor sedative has been detected in .

The appraisals went on like this, with hits and misses on the dishes for the sedative. Though he’d had a hit here and there, there hadn’t been much to worry about if he limited the portions he ingested, and so he approached the problem like this.

This had gone on until they got to the gamey stew in the red pot. There was also a selection of breaded vegetables, a thin sauce, separate shakers of seasoning and some rice for the accompaniments, so he could always get away with choosing the others if he got a bad hit. He’d appraised the stew once on arrival, and then again due to the scan returning ‘inconclusive’. When the second scan had returned the same result, he’d chosen to refrain from partaking until others had done the same.

It hadn’t taken long for mayor Richard to ease his worries as the man had dished up a generous scoop into his bowl, forgoing the starch. Brutus and the mercenary had followed suit, leading Luke to believe it would be safe to do so as well. ‘Inconclusive’ begged for him to exercise caution, but it might very well be stemming from the fact he wasn’t sure of the meat used for the stew.

He appraised it again, but this time with the question of the meat close in thought, and the results told him all he needed to know. Venison. Strictly speaking, it was from a thistle-horn stag. If this weren’t the source on the inconclusiveness, then he’d just gotten more reasons to doubt the stew.

Gertie, as if clued into Luke’s dilemma, chose this moment to make a show of dishing out some of the stew for herself, bringing the bowl close to her face, and then continuing to eat it once she’d confirmed it was free of any of the toxins she’d been fed over the years.

Although her intentions were unquestionable, her acting skills had been anything but, with the way she’d scrunched her nose during her inspection. Brutus and the mayor exchanged glances at this, and an unspoken communication passed between them. Nothing came of this though, so Luke dished out some for himself, now confident from Gertie’s showing.

With the stew being a bit bland, he chose to remedy that with a bit of seasoning. He was just about to take the next spoon when Gertie interrupted him. She threw him a warning glare that quickly moved from him to the bowl and spoon in front of him. He was a bit confused at what Gertie was implying, since appraisals of the seasoning and the stew had turned up nothing. To remedy this, he appraised the bowl again before turning an accusatory glare towards the mayor.

“Is the stew not to your liking,” the mayor asked, loud enough for all at the table to hear. This surprised Luke as he would’ve thought the mayor would want to steer clear of discussing the stew, but the mayor had something else in mind. As Luke considered the best way forward, Gertie went ahead, responding for him.

“Yes, I think Luke’s plate has been tempered with.”

That sent whispers up and down the table, but the mayor didn’t seem rattled by this. To the contrary, he welcomed the statement, responding with a question of his own.

“Ho? And did the Wind Sword temper with his own stew?”

It seemed the mayor planned on putting all this on Luke now that the jig was up. As Gertie made to respond, the mayor lifted his hand to forestall her response, making a proposition that would put Luke in a tight spot.

“Can’t let such statements fly without challenge, and since I’m the host, I’ll have myself and one other from my house taste this stew, and the Wind Sword can taste it after us. Will that be acceptable?”

As soon as the mayor had said the first part, Luke could see how this might end, and it had gone as he’d expected. The man and whoever he’d invite likely already had a counteractive for the sedative earlier, so it wouldn’t take effect on them. Luke had also thought to propose someone of his own, but the counter agent would’ve likely been supplied to them as well, albeit without their knowledge. Any except he who tasted the stew wouldn’t be affected by it, and it wouldn’t do well for Luke to refuse the stew after the host and others had tasted it before him.

Gertie gave Luke’s hand a comforting squeeze, interrupting him from his thoughts. When he lifted his gaze, she beamed him a confident smile before turning to nod at the mayor. Unexpectedly, the mayor made his choice by selecting a seat number instead of an actual person. It fell somewhere in the middle of the table and seated there was a visiting cousin of the Harrows who wasn’t directly affiliated with his house, as far as people knew. This told Luke the man was going for maximum believability. Had he chosen Brutus, it would’ve been easy to suggest conspiracy.

The mayor and his selected taster both took a single spoon, one after the other, and nothing happened, as Luke expected. Everyone at the table turned to face him since it was now his turn, but Gertie took the spoon and tasted instead.

She placed the spoon back on the table and turned to face the mayor with a triumphant grin, before turning to whisper to Luke. She only managed to say, “My own t-,” before coughing up blood.

She began falling to her side, but Luke was fast enough to catch her before her head hit the floor. She wiped her mouth before trying to whisper to Luke again. When her voice failed her, she mouthed her wishes to Luke. She warned him not to make a move in front of prying eyes and told him where she wished to be at the moment. The commotion arose around them, but Luke blocked it all out in his rush to oblige Gertie’s request. He hoped it wouldn’t be too late to save her life by the time they got there.

◆◆◆

Luke rushed Gertie to her room, as per her request. The mayor had tried to intervene, ordering Brutus and the rest of the guards to intercept them, but the deathly glint in Luke’s eyes had caused the guards to second-guess the order. This afforded Luke the opportunity he needed to rush Gertie to her room, leaving a quaking detail in his wake. The guards had been cowed by the threat in Luke’s demeanor but seeing their beet-faced employer in fits from their showing, they grew back their spines and followed in Luke’s direction.

He hadn’t bothered closing the door, seeing as that would invite a confrontation between him and the guards, which he wouldn’t want for Gertie’s final moments.

“Don’t forget the necklace,” had been the first thing she’d whispered to him when he’d laid her on the bed. “Don’t feel sad, this was as good a time as any,” she’d said after. Although the words came out low and gravelly, they did manage to comfort Luke. “This way, its on my own terms. The smart ones will understand what happened, and hopefully some of them begin to question if they’ll be safe for long, with a snake as a bed fellow.”

She took a long pause after this, and Luke could tell she was in pain from the way her face was twisted. When she finally spoke, it was in such a low voice that Luke had to strain to hear her. “Best of all, I get to have a kindred spirit by my side in my final moments.”

Gertie closed her eyes after this and relaxed into her departure. She’d been visibly in pain while she spoke, but now that she was quiet, she seemed at peace, so much to the point that Luke would’ve thought she was already gone, were it not for the feint pulse beating in her shaky left palm.

’s spirit has departed her fleshly vessel.

She passed on a few seconds later, and the notification was there to refute any doubts he might have. Her hand slackened with her departure and the necklace she’d been clutching slid from her palm. Luke immediately placed his hand over it, stowing it away before anyone else could see it. A notification popped up on contact with the necklace, but Luke dismissed it, resolved to only consider it once arrangements had been made for Gertie’s remains.

You’ve had your moment with her, came Brutus’ voice. He’d been standing at the door, watching, and Luke hoped there was hoping he’d missed the necklace and Luke’s actions. The other man eyes him suspiciously before ordering a few of the guard to tend to the body.

“Shall we escort you back to the dining hall,” he questioned, to which Luke responded, “No, I’ll find my own way back to my quarters.”

“No, you won’t. We will show you to your quarters,” came Brutus’ response. Deep in his grief, Luke wanted nothing more than to strike at the man for telling him what he could and couldn’t do but he thought better of it, controlling his emotions so as not to derail his future plans. Instead, he nodded his acceptance of the situation to Brutus.

Brutus threw him a smug grin before ushering him forward. It seemed the man thought him cowed, but to Luke he’d only assented to the highest priority of the moment, which was to keep his head down until the right moment. He now had 2 souls to abscond with after all.