“Go ahead and kill me, you traitorous bastard! I’m not telling you shit!”

Katana squirmed, but Sheira had bound her well, and the Rogue was no match for Grippa’s brute strength.

“Coming from the one who just sent a damn monster to kill our own Grand Master?” Gunnar demanded.

“Our master? Please! You’re no Nighthawk.”

“I may be the last one who hasn’t lost their damn mind.” Gunnar gripped the collar of the Rogue’s cloak and pulled her close so Katana was forced to look him in the eyes. “Where’s that thing going?”

Katana’s eyes were ablaze with bitter hatred. “You already said it, asshole.”

“Where?!” he roared.

Gunnar didn’t wait for an answer. He jerked Katana away from Grippa’s hold, and dragged her toward the edge of the stream of sludge and fecal water at the center of the chamber.

Katana met his gaze with an animal ferocity. This only strengthened his resolve. Gunnar shoved the woman down into the flow, submerging her entire body in waste. The flow was shallow enough, he could hold her down against the bottom without going under himself.

A blue Breath bar appeared over Katana’s body, slowly depleting. For the first thirty seconds, she held defiantly still, but as the bar neared zero, she began squirming under his grasp, eyes going wide. When the bar was moments from zero, Gunnar jerked her out of the flow.

Unlocked Skill: Interrogation

Skill Type: Mental

Linked Attribute: Charisma (+70% Development)

Affinity Level: 13

Cost: A little bit of your soul

Effect: Increases the likelihood that others will spill their secrets to you.

Description: Use Interrogation to find out vital information, by any means necessary! This is war, man!

The Rogue gasped with desperate breaths, and the bar replenished quickly. Katana opened her mouth to speak, but Gunnar immediately shoved her back under. The second time, she met the brink of death more calmly. The third, she flailed like a creature caught in a trap. When Gunnar pulled her out the fourth time, she screamed as she took in painful breaths.

“Doesn’t matter anyway, you’re too late,” Katana whimpered.

“Then, I guess, I’ve got all night for this,” Gunnar said. He seized her by the collar again, when a notification appeared.

[You have received a location marker from Katana. Do you wish to receive directions in your MiniNav? Yes/No]

Gunnar accepted and shoved Katana aside.

[Congratulations! You have completed the quest, Hot Pursuit! You’ve successfully tortured—er, interrogated—a prisoner, and retrieved vital information about the whereabouts of the Grand Master of the Nighthawks. It won’t do you much good if you don’t make it there in time. But here’s 50 XP, because we’re all about participation trophies around here, apparently!]

[Congratulations! You’ve reached Level 18 in Endurance. You’ve reached Level 13 in Enhanced Blow. You’ve reached Level 13 in Slashing Blow. You’ve reached Level 20 in Basic Word of Healing. You’ve reached Level 11 in Dark Sight. You’ve reached Level 14 in Interrogation. You did it! You accomplished something for the first time in two days! Whoopdeedo!]

[You’ve got a little dark side to you after all. You’ve earned the Guatanamo Badge! Doesn’t matter how you do it, so long as you get the information: +1 to Strength, +1 to Charisma, +1 to Constitution.]

[Congratulations! You have reached Level 23 in Glory!]

The world froze for a moment, and Nymoria appeared before him, her fine gown and glowing brilliance a bizarre contrast to the grimy darkness of the sewer chambers.

“Well done, faithful servant. You have taken another step on the path to greatness. You have received one attribute point, which can be distributed at any time. But remember that every choice you make will echo into eternity. Choose wisely.”

The chamber went dark again.

Then, a new quest prompt appeared in Gunnar’s vision.

Quest Alert - Like a Blizzard

Quest Type: Rare

Description: A clue. And then, another clue. And then, another clue. And then a… quest to save your last hope in this game. Save Faraday before he gets slizzarded. Slizzar-dead! Do you get what we’re throwing down? This is your last chance!

Objective: Save Faraday before it’s too late.

Reward: A small hope the Nighthawks don’t get hoodwinked by a crazy witch!

Do you wish to accept? Yes/No

He assented.

Still bound, Katana sat on the side of the sludge river and panted. Gunnar’s cloak was already torn from his tussle with the drunken master, so he ripped a strip off and tied a gag over her mouth.

“Alright,” Gunnar said, pulling up his MiniNav, “the Grand Master is in some house over in the Heights district of Thailen.”

Grippa fired off a message to the rest of the Cryptids, but Gunnar feared it was too late. They didn’t have anyone closer to that part of the city than they already were. They’d have to be quick, and hope the monster would be slowed by an attempt at Stealth.

Assuming, of course, that Leilani cares whether her monsters wreak havoc out in the open.

Gunnar applied his attribute point immediately to Constitution, giving him an extra bump to Health, and more importantly, Stamina. With his new map marker set, directional arrows appeared before his vision, directing them back out of thee sewers the way they’d come.

“Let’s go!”

Grippa and Hank made to follow, but Sheira shook her head.

“There’s a quicker way.” The dusk elf gestured to a tunnel across the chamber.

“Directions say this way,” Grippa said.

“You gonna trust the damn GPS? Or the Rogue who’s practically lived in the underbelly of this city?”

Gunnar grinned. “I’ve been led astray by a GPS one too many times.”

“Is GPS some dumb elf code?” Hank asked.

Right, NPC, Gunnar thought.

“Yeah, something like that,” he said aloud.

“I know a way that will lead us real close,” Sheira said.

“So, you’ve been down here before?” Gunnar asked.

Sheira shrugged with a grin. “I get around. Good news is whoever gave that beast directions, sent it the long way round. More opportunity for Stealth I’m sure, since those drain pipes’ll take it to the outskirts of the harbor. But this one will take us straight to the Heights.”

They took off at a sprint.

***

They went as fast as they could down the winding tunnel, sloshing through slick sewer sludge, no longer worried about going quietly. Gunnar wasn’t sure if the stench was getting better or if his nose was just growing numb to the smell of raw waste.

But it offered his mind a little clarity to strategize.

In the past couple days, Gunnar had attempted to contact the Nighthawk Grand Master multiple times. But each time, the same message came back in return.

[Ah, geez, we’re sorry! Grand Master Faraday must accept your DM request in order to send and receive messages.]

Did that mean Faraday didn’t see the messages at all? Or that he had seen them and dismissed them? Gunnar had no way of knowing.

He knew the chances that Faraday was reading these messages was low. Probably, he’d blocked Gunnar after the first one, like he’d done himself after the Nighthawks blitzed him with hate messages following his supposed betrayal.

But there was also a damn good chance they weren’t going to make it in time. Gunnar fired off one last desperate warning.

Gunnar: Grand Master Faraday, Leilani’s a traitor. She’s got monsters doing her bidding, and one’s heading to your place in the Heights right now. Get out, or find someplace to hide! Quick!

The fact that Faraday was still in hiding showed that he did not trust the remaining Nighthawks. Or at least not Leilani. Gunnar was sure the mistress was spinning all sorts of lies to the other guild members to explain why the Grand Master had not returned. He doubted many of them would be down with this assassination of their own master.

But with her monsters, she only needed a few in on the job. And once Faraday was gone, Leilani would be the only master left, and she could rig her own kangaroo court to back all her moves going forward.

Damn, I wish Em was here, Gunnar thought.

Every day he didn’t hear from her, he worried more. Em could look after herself, and if she’d gone silent, there must be a reason. But he sure would’ve liked to know what that reason was.

For now, he had to stay focused.

They emerged from the sewers through a grate near the eastern city wall. This part of Thailen was set on a series of knolls that looked out at the sea, the buildings were all short, and most looked like dwellings—freestanding, though cobbled close together. The citizens of the Heights were wealthy enough to have private dwellings and small gardens and courtyards, but they were lowly in comparison to anything in the Golden Hills.

They had a good view, though. Light began to tease at the horizon, hints of color slowly seeping up from the depths of the sea to dispel the murky gloom engulfing the city.

The streets remained dark and empty. Down in the harbor, Gunnar knew the lower class was already hard at work. The Heights waited for morning, but Gunnar doubted it would be quiet much longer.

Sheira led them down a series of grid-like streets, turning several corners before they reached one of the larger homes in the area. From the outside, everything looked to be in order. Gunnar had been anticipating ruptured walls or something. The slizzard was large enough to wreak some real havoc.

Everything was still.

Almost too still.

The home consisted of half the city block, with crenellations lining a wall walk at the top. Gunnar spotted the top of a cloak up above, facing the other direction. He quickly motioned the others toward a side street.

Sheira led the way up the side of the wall. For Gunnar, the climb was relatively easy. The stones were formed of mediocre masonry, with ample space between most of the stones allowing for decent handholds. Grippa struggled to find his first few holds. Though large, the mountain orcs knew their way around rocks, and Grippa ascended quickly once he got going. Hank scurried up behind him no problem.

They eased over the top onto the wall walk. The home had a hacienda-type set up, with a large courtyard in the center, and dozens of doorways and halls leading to various parts of the house. There was a small parapet nearby, and Gunnar’s heart quickened at the sight of a guard hunched over the side of the wall, on lookout. The parapet was also the only way to reach the stairs down to the courtyard.

Hank drew a throwing axe, but Gunnar waved him off.

He had no idea whose house Faraday was hiding in, or whether the guards knew anything about their secret guest, but he was not about to take out an innocent guard needlessly. He motioned toward the rail and began to ease himself over, but Sheira stopped him.

The dusk elf pointed at the stone floor of the wall walk. A dark liquid was pooling from the parapet and seeping along the walkway.