“But then, then~!” Balanthora leaned over the table in her excitement, wine sloshing out of her goblet and over her increasingly loose grasp, “Regalus Vileblood began to cast his most infamous spell, Anti-Magican Doom! But before he could weave the magics that would end the world, I seized control of the threads of his sorcery and ripped them apart!”

The crowd of Anyport merchants and officials burst into appreciative applause from their tables in the crowded banquet hall, but Shin couldn’t resist giving the speechifying dwarf girl’s boast a bit of extra thought. ‘Seized control of the threads of’...so, what, she cast Counterspell? That’s, like, a Level One spell. Shin was entirely confident that with a basic book of magical theory and a few nights of study, he could have managed that cantrip.

Not that he’d say anything to ruin the Player’s big moment; the kobold had no doubt that the rosy glow to Balanthora’s cheeks was as much due to the attention she was getting from her audience as it was due to the excessive amount of wine she was downing. The dwarf had seemingly paid out the nose for her time in the glorious spotlight, and while there was something unpleasantly grasping about the girl, Shin simply didn’t have it in him to rain on her time in the sun.

Port Master Rook leaned over from his seat to Shin’s left, keeping his voice low to avoid interrupting Balanthora’s inebriated account of her own heroics. “How are you liking the banquet?”

Shin offered the man a smile and a polite bow of his head. “It’s quite splendid; thank you for inviting us.”

“Oh good. You’re enjoying the food?”

The kobold had to carefully consider how to answer that one. “It’s…a very rich spread. Very fitting for a hero’s welcome.”

Rook winced regretfully at the complaint Shin was too good-mannered to voice. “Well, I’m sorry that the banquet is so…cheese-centric.”

The Port Master had clearly not been exaggerating the size of the Anyport cheese trade, because the sheer breadth of coagulated milk on offer was staggering. Shin had never even had cheese before that night, but now he’d been introduced to more varieties than he could easily keep track of: Orange-gold cheese in massive wheels, delicate yellow cheese peeking coquettishly out from wrappings made of leaves, cheese as white and pliable as snow that spread beautifully with barely any application of force. There was even cheese studded with veins of dark blue that smelled so noxious that it had to be shifted to the other side of the room to accommodate the Enhanced Senses of the kobolds in attendance.

All of these varieties, in as many shapes and sizes as existed, and it seemed that Shin and his fellow Shinki Itten natives couldn’t eat any of them. Mimasu had proven that. The other kobolds had been a bit reluctant to give curdled milk solids a try, so the exuberant scribe had been the first to dive in mouth-first. His initial report was that it tasted fine, but ten minutes later he’d been forced to beat a hasty retreat to the privy.

It was almost an hour before he returned, completely drained of color and with the look of a deeply haunted man. Since then, the kobolds had stuck with the fish.

Through it all, Balanthora’s speech had continued unabated. “Jus’ when it seemed the Demon King might regain the upper hand, I called on my mos’ powerful magics! It was like I was one with th’ arcane itself!”

The crowd continued to ‘oooh’ and ‘ahhh’ over the tipsy dwarf’s tale of personal valor and heroism, but her fellow Players didn’t seem particularly impressed. The shield woman glanced over at her lizan companion, barely bothering to lower her voice. “What was his parse, again?”

“You mean after factoring in that he’s simultaneously pitifully underleveled and obscenely overgeared?” When the woman nodded, the lizan gave the matter a moment of thought. “Shitty. His parse was shitty.”

The woman snickered. “Is that what being ‘one with the arcane’ means? I know everyone says mages are crap, but didn’t realize they were being so literal.”

Shin shifted in his seat, wishing once again that he and his friends had been seated a bit further away from the table of honor and the three Players. He didn’t get a good feeling from any of them, particularly not these two. Particularly not the shield woman, with her calculating sneer and finger guns. But he was too close to avoid hearing what they said, and it simply wasn’t in Shin’s nature to resist sticking his nose in. “A ‘parse’? And who do you mean?” He nodded his head towards the still-orating Balanthora. “Her?”

The two Players stared at Shin for a moment, with that flat affect he’d come to recognize among Players weighing their willingness to engage with him as if he was an actual person. Eventually, the woman seemed to decide that casual conservation with Shin wasn’t too far below her dignity. “That means he sucks at fighting. And yeah, I mean him.” She tsked, carving a piece off of a wheel of cheese as she narrowed an eye at the kobold. “Don’t tell me he’s actually managed to catfish you, doggo.”

Shin tilted his head at that. “Catfish?” He glanced towards Bittercup, hoping the elf’s greater experience with the ways of the world might be of use. “What do fish have to do with anything?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s saying that the dwarf is actually a man.” Bittercup reconsidered as she poured herself another glass of wine. “In the Players’ world, I mean. They can look like whatever they want here.”

“Spoiler Alert,” –The lizan hissed out a fake conspiratorial whisper–”I’m not actually a lizard person. The crowd gasps!”

Right. Shin still recalled the way Bex had shifted her own face during their first meeting. He’d have been quite interested to tinker with whatever aspect of the System gave the Players that ability, but in the deepest parts of his heart Shin knew he couldn’t be trusted with such power. If Shin had been fully in control of his own appearance, he would have absolutely been unable to resist making himself significantly taller. And a very tall Shin? Or even worse, a very tall Shh?

The world would have never survived.

“Yeah well I am a real woman,” Shield grumbled, “And Lil’ Gimlina over there is just some dork with a pigtails fetish.” She abruptly hurled her hunk of cheese at Balanthora, causing the girl to choke on her words and slop wine all over herself as it splatted into her shoulder. The dwarf spun her head to stare at Shield, her eyes wide with confusion, only to be interrupted before she could stammer out either question or complaint. “Hey, when are you gonna give one of us a turn?! We’re the Saviors of Magica too, you know! Don’t be an attention hog, dude!”

The parts of Balanthora’s face not already flushed from drink quickly bloomed in embarrassed red as the dwarf dropped down into her seat, sheepishly fumbling for napkins to mop up her spill. “I, um, sorry; it’s your turn.”

“Finally.” Shield huffed in continued indignation, holding her glare on Balanthora until the dwarf had sufficiently shrunken in on herself. Then she turned to Lizan, offering the reptilian man an unnecessarily grand wave of her hands. “After you. I insist.”

“Oh if you insist.” The man rose from his chair, cleared his throat, and then addressed the crowd in a clear voice. “I decline to give a speech!”

The merchants and officials immediately rewarded his non-oratory with a round of hearty applause as Lizan slipped back into his seat, returning Shield’s gesture back to her. The woman smirked, snatching Rook’s wine glass as she stood. “Well then.” She lifted her pilfered cup towards the still-embarrassed Balanthora, raising her voice to a near shout. “I’d just like to say a few words about Balanthora, and about all her contributions to the Demon King’s fall!”

Balanthora quickly poured herself more wine, a look of hopeful excitement flashing across her face as she anticipated the toast that was about to be given in her honor. But then, rather than say another word, Shield drained her glass, smashed it to the ground, and pressed her palms to her mouth to produce the loudest fake fart noise Shin had ever heard.

The dwarf’s face fell as the other woman’s rude ovation droned on and on, the banquet crowd shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Shin shook his head, a quick glance in either direction confirming that Momo and Gero felt the same way as him. As much as he’d come to experience the casual cruelties Players were capable of, the Schemer had somehow neglected to consider how cruel they could be to one another as well.

Lesson learned.

Shield held the noise for an astonishingly long amount of time, testament to either her lung capacity or her sheer will to be an asshole or perhaps both. When she finally relinquished her taunt, she dropped her hands to her hips and smirked at the silent crowd. “Well?” She sneered, her eyes going hard, “Didn’t you all like my fuckin’ speech?”

The Anyport natives immediately broke out into the applause that was expected of them, prompting Shield to lean over and give Balanthora a smug little pat on her arm. “You hear that? Sounds like they liked my speech just as much as yours.”

“Um, y-yeah,” the dwarf managed. “G-good speech.”

“Well then!” The woman shouldered her shield onto her back, glancing meaningfully over at Lizan. “We’re getting out of here.”

Balanthora blinked. “Oh, um, but isn’t there more? There’s more ceremonies, and we’re supposed to get the Key to Anyport tomorrow, and–”

Lizan scoffed, slinking up from the table as well. “Been there, done that, my guy. S’boring. We’re gonna skip it.”

“But…” The dwarf’s lip began to tremble. “You’re my ride.”

Shield rolled her eyes. “Then I guess you’re gonna skip it too, aren’t you?”

“But–”

“Look, we’ll give you thirty minutes.” Shield yawned as she started off, casually allowing her shield to bump into Balanthora as she passed carelessly by. “Be there or don’t. We for real don’t give a shit.”

The lizan waggled his fingers at the downcast girl as he followed his partner. “Toodles~!”

Shin watched as Balanthora quietly dabbed at her wine-stained fineries, utterly quiet beyond the occasional sniff. He really did not want to further involve himself with specific Players, but...he should say something, right? Say what, though? ‘Sorry that entitled monsters are frequently unkind to their own’? Somehow, the kobold doubted that would make her feel much better. It seemed much more likely to be the prelude to him getting blasted in the face with magic.

Perhaps one of his companions had a better idea. He glanced hopefully over at Gero, who only offered a regretful shrug. “Yeah, don’t look at me. I have no idea how to best spring the reveal now.”

“Yeah. This sort of thing is…wait.” Shin tilted his head. “The ‘reveal’?”

Gero nodded. “Yeah.” When Shin just continued to tilt his head at her, the warrior tilted her head back. “The reveal about Balanthora?”

Shin was afraid that if he tilted his head any further, he’d snap his own neck. “We were going to do a reveal on her?”

“Um, I figured? You weren’t going to?” Shin’s blank gaze began to sink in for Gero. “Wait. You mean…you don’t know?” Shin could only shake his head, prompting Gero to quirk her ears forward. “For real? You really don’t remember.”

Shin pressed his hand to his heart. “Gero, I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” The Schemer turned towards Momo, Mimasu and Bittercup in turn, seeking out their input. “Do any of you?”

When all of her other companions had indicated they didn’t, Gero leaned back in her seat. “Huh.” An almost giddy look crossed the woman’s face. “I figured it out, and Shin didn’t. That’s really embarrassing for you.”

“Gero…”

“No, Shin, this is a problem!” Gero grinned at the other kobold, her tail whipping around with such glee that it ran the risk of smashing her chair’s legs into kindling. “If I’m the muscle and the brains, then what the hell are you supposed to do?”

Shin couldn’t resist a smile, unable to stop himself from indulging Gero’s gloats. “I guess I’ll just have to sit here and look pretty until you deign to grace us all with your brilliant deductions.”

“Hm, that works.” Gero gave Shin a weighing look, her tail still a frenzied dervish. “Okay, yeah. You just handle the smiles, and I’ll take care of the Scheming from now on.”

Momo pursed her lips. “Are you two done? Can we move this along?”

Gero made a show of considering that before casting an imperious look down at Shin. “I’m not sure. Can we?”

Shin fluttered his eyelashes as coquettishly as he could manage, leaning forward to drape his hand over Gero’s. “Please?”

At that Gero quickly coughed, lifting her hand before her mouth slightly too late to hide her flush. “Right, well, I mean. It’s really not that impressive, but…” She raised her eyebrows at Momo and Shin. “You two remember the logbook we found in the elven waystation, right?”

Bittercup interjected. “You mean the waystation that you burned to the ground, after killing a bunch of my people?”

Gero nodded. “Yes, that waystation.”

“Okay, just checking.” Bittercup took another sip from her goblet. “Carry on.”

Momo hesitantly spoke up, her ears flattening slightly as she did best to recall those early days. “You mean the one that was full of bad poetry?”

“It wasn’t just poetry though?” Gero peered sidelong at the still-despondent dwarf. “Don’t you remember? It also had the names of the last two Players to pass through the zone.”

Shin furrowed his brow. “Right. Leathers and Robes. But those weren’t their actual names. Leathers was…something about Ass Blasting. And Robes was–”

Momo gasped. “Balanthor. Robes was Balanthor.”

Gero beamed in triumph as her revelation was finally revealed, Mimasu offering a quiet whistle as he shuffled to the beginning of his notes. “That can’t be a common name, right?” He eventually found what he was looking for, shaking his head in amazement. “Wow. A young dwarf girl. Leathers even got the part about pigtails right.”

Shin stared at Mimasu for a moment, allowing all of this information to sink in. So the sad dwarf girl seated just a few places away from him right now was originally one of the two No Ones who directly brought about the mongrels’ ascent from the bottom of Magica’s barrel to the rarified position they now held. What were the chances?

And more importantly, what was he going to do about it?