Corvayne was determined as they left the Dust Man's table. This was time to prepare. Lady Blood Claw had recovered enough to wake with a start, eat and look over his notes. Leigue, the elf they had hired to scout talent, was unfrozen and spent most of the meal quiet before agreeing to assist the dust formed man with something similar. The details were vague. It also seemed like the expected vector of having Leigue do a lot of extra work to make up for eventually reselling their secret had twisted somewhat.

[[Unity]] and his own eyes now had told him that the higher tier Investigator was acting different then his too cool attitude before, one only damaged by the fact he clearly thought Lady Blood Claw was attractive. That all changed, and Leigue had explained he had figured out Corvayne was some sort of 'Young Master' that would possibly either elevate him to rejoin a powerful group higher in the tower (Corvayne did not miss that Leigue hadn't said join, and noted they needed to get that story squared away) or possibly doom him to death should he betray their trust.

“Mister Leigue...”

The man was practically tripping over himself. “You need not be so formal. You might even call me Lee.”

“Okay. Lee.... Mister Leigue. We are not high floor masters. We are clueless newbies who got lucky. I have some sort of weird connections but it's possible they are to people who are all long dead. You are probably imagining I have some golden palace on a higher floor but my dad kicked me out and I have never met my mother and I'm told she's far away-”

“You are a secret heir. A common tactic of those too powerful... you probably have a suppressed bloodline! There's an easy way to help you. Watch.”

Magic washed over him, and for a second Corvayne felt the curse reacting, vines starting to coil around his arms. They scraped him as they appeared to grow out of him, and he felt them go rigid as they tracked Leigue.

He put his own hands and shadow hands onto the thorns, using what strength he could to try to keep them from impaling the elf. While his hands were bleeding and it felt like he was ripping his arms off, he managed to slow them enough for the nimble man to roll away as the struck. The magic faded before the next set growing out of Corvayne could form, and he saw the bouncer's looming form recede. It was a close thing and he didn't want to find out what happened if he got booted.

Corvayne Level 31 Armsmaster (4)/Level 1 Alienist

(((((Do not Identify with high tier ID spells until 'Curse of System Breaker' is completely cleared.)))))

Cons: Perfect Yellow – Even Match (You are evenly matched against yourself). Level does not properly represent the abilities that this warrior has, just as their poker face rarely breaks and most people don't get his dry jokes. (((((Extremely dangerous in an entirely different set of ways then most Tower dwellers expect. Consider this your warning.))))

Self Applied Message: Remember to level 'Shadows' - Shadows.

((((error, please see System initialization notes)))) → Armsmaster

Core Traits – Cross Train, Strength of Arms, Cross Execute, Arsenal

Core Powers – Non Class Powers (((Does not trigger Invader Status post Incursion C.)))(((((to-do: Integrate if possible))))). Shadows++, Gravity+, Adept (((((Pact System and Adept abilities Permitted inheritance. Do not trigger Invader Status))))), Compass+

Artifacts: 1/3 Destiny's Scourge

Notes: 31 Unspent Skill points.

Notes: 5 Unspent Feats ((error, need initialization data, pending admin review))

Notes: 31 Unspent Talent points. ((error, need initialization data, poor connection to ????))

Notes: 12 Active Curses. 3 Cleared. (((((Intrusive System. Not generated by user. Do not trigger Invader status.)))))

Notes: [Curse Integrity 31% - Next Broken ????] [Timeline Integrity at 6.2%] [3.6 Left]

High skills: Spear 372*, Fortitude 123, Dodge 85, Stealth 60, Survival 48.

System Notes: (((((Personal Project.)))))

Leigue backed away from Corvayne, totally reasonable given that it looked like something akin to his shadow limbs had just tried to strike out. He was surprised the man hadn't run away entirely. Lady Blood Claw on the other hand, seemed to be focused on the little screen in front of her.

She frowned. “12 Curses active.... You dealt with 3, and you have... 372 skill in spears? That completely overshadows others we looked at. Someone defaced your status with notes. Hmm. The curses are all hidden save the one it names. Tch.”

Leigue on the other hand had shot to his feet. “What is going on with you? I want to know. I'll pay half what you paid me back, no, two thirds! I want to know how you have a personal System 5 note!”

He realized he was shouting between five tables that held gods who were looking at him, and lowered his voice.

“Personal project. That's a system note. I've never seen a system note.”

Corvayne looked around. Some of the tables had looked over, but most seemed busy with whatever company they had. “What else stands out to you, having seen lots of profiles.”

“You shouldn't have over 350 in a weapon skill unless you've just been going around fighting for thousands of years with that weapon and only that weapon.”

“That might be the case.” Was he that good? He didn't think so. “What's that number really mean?”

“It means you've fought real battles with a spear to the point that you should always connect wherever you want it to hit, or you have a good shot at hitting supersonic targets. It also implies that you have bottle-neck training completed, as there are break points where you need a deeper understanding of a weapon to pass those numbers. The number improves damage and makes your attacks more fluid, which means faster attacks. On top of that you are an Armsmaster which is known for letting you apply that number to any weapon you pick up.”

“I'm not that good with the spear, and I trained with a bunch of weapons.” Maybe wandering around for untold years he never bothered with a different weapon. But he wasn't particularly fast with his spear. Sparring, Lady Blood Claw was able to keep up with his speed now without Haste.

“Who trained you?” Leigue asked while pinching the bridge of his nose. Corvayne realized they were still in the deep bar and gestured for them to walk back, taking about three steps before they were back to the table where Grunt, Bell, and Spears were sitting with 3 dirty plates and a pie they were dividing up.

“Oh. I'm an exile from The Watchers.” Corvayne said, pulling a seat out for Lady Blood Claw who gave him a look that said 'you really did that?' with what felt like a comical level of expressiveness. She also was doing a poor job clamping down on [[Unity]], leaking a kaleidoscope of feelings. It was as if her currently malfunctioning skin took on some of the burden of feelings for her and now she was running everything all at once.

“You are a System marked person, exiled from one of the three most overused secret societies, you have the attention of deities, one of whom respects and possibly is worried about your mom, whom you've never met, putting some form of retribution on you. The system marks imply you are being given some sort of special permission to use skills that flag one as an Invader, which is a system function I've never heard of, and I've spent a lot of time learning about the system Mister.”

Corvayne had, at times, considered parts of what he had just heard, but now he felt himself sweating as he considered the arsenal of oddities packed into the last hour alone. A little hint of paranoia surfaced as. The system was watching him. A huge hand with a tiny plate holding a slice of pie thrust itself in front of him then wiggled.

“Thanks Grunt.” He took the plate. “Maybe it's a different the Watchers? It wasn't an impressive set up. They had a village in a desert full of experts at weapons and maybe a few handy with technology. But they threw me out because I was a failure.” Even as he said it, Corvayne suddenly was sure he no longer believed it. He was wrong about Spears, and Diamond had a curse in her too.

“That matches half the stories, with the other half saying that they have a billion space ships and are waiting for some sort of D-Day to rise up. I am still not sure you are deflecting me by naming a mythical organization that everyone throws in when they are buttering up stories about The Pilgrims and The Pilgrimage.”

Grunt snorted. Spears scooted her chair to be closer to where Corvayne had sat. “I'm a Watcher too.”

Leigue looked at her, and raised an eyebrow. “If I try to ID you, will you kill me?”

“It's nice to ask but rude to ID people who don't want it.” Spears countered.

Corvayne tapped the table. “It's not relevant to this conversation if we are 'THE' Watchers. We are talking about my status. I didn't think my training was that exceptional, I lost every fight pretty much when I sparred with the Masters. I can't always hit what I want to, and I don't think I do much more damage with the weapon then most people. We did tests and I hit a little harder if I say, drop my spear into a piece of foam.”

Corvayne watched the elf pat down his olive vest for a backup cigarette. He found the box and with a finger flicked it open, then sighed and tossed his pack onto the table in frustration. Grunt, gracious as he was, produced a pack of 'BIG PINE FLAVOR' brand that was about 50 percent larger then the feeble box on the table and daintily handed it to Leigue. The man took one out and looked at the extra large cigarette like it was a turd, then shrugged and lit it. He stopped, pulled it out of his mouth to look at it, then shrugged and resumed smoking, blowing a ring after a moment.

“I agree. Let's stop right there. Most of the time, any Watchers are hoaxes or a cover for some organization. It should be a fairy tale. But whomever is mistaken, your skills speak. The number that my spell returned means the system is sure you are better then almost anyone with your weapon. It might be you've literally forgotten more then most people know regarding the weapon. What sort of Weaponskills can you do?”

“I think my high end ones are [Flows-Like-Water] and [Storm Thrust]. One lets me turn to water and move and strike, the other has a strong push associated with it.”

“I'm guessing those are alternate forms of what, [Charging Thrust] or maybe a high form of [Spear Slide]? And [Full Thrust]. Do you have [Penta Thrust] or some other barrage that does five or more hits?”

“No. I have 5 moves.”

“Young master should-”

Corvayne interrupted him. “I'm not a young master.”

“Okay, young prince should-”

Bell looked at Corvayne expectantly. “Prince?”

Spears put a hand around Corvayne's shoulder. “His father was in charge of the Watchers.”

Corvayne wasn't sure he liked watching Bell staring at him so hard. “Royalty?”

Corvayne shook his head. “Does anyone listen to me? The village had maybe a couple of thousand people. Only a handful of buildings above two stories. Leigue please continue.”

“Fine, young prince. You should have twenty or so skills. At the point you are at, I would expect a few signature skills. Well, you did say you had normal training... Even if they just told you where the pointy end is, that level should have let you stumble into twelve just from trying to do something like attacking fast, or driving your spear into the ground to change directions quickly, or stabbing out and trying to ignite something with the spearhead. [Penta Thrust], [Earth Spear], [Ignition Drive].”

Grunt looked at Corvayne's spear, then the elf, then pulled out his lighter, miming what Corvayne was pretty sure was the twisting motion one used to trigger [Storm Thrust].

“Nope.”

The Path Confidant sighed. “Fine. What are the Curses then, do you know that?”

“They interfere with certain things. They can turn your view of the world hostile, and do things like change your name, steal your memories...”

Bell chimed in. “Mine was aggression.”

“It might be why your skill is high but it's impact is low. How did you remove them?”

“Don't remember. Supposedly having lots of experiences weakens them.” He looked over at Lady Blood Claw, but showed Bell the list he had made. “I'm going to work on special skills that let me counter act it, but first I wanted to talk about the recruits I want. We are going to spend a lot of time in the Tower, and I would like to try to get an essence specialist on board. Ideally, one who we can assist with their goals. Basically, accelerate everything.”

Grunt nodded. Good idea. Bell added. “Oh, so more exp, more powers?”

Dot returned with octopus balls. The librarian sat quietly and listened.

Leigue looked around and Grunt pushed an empty cup towards him. The elf tapped his cigarette clear of ash. “There's one problem with that my friends. There's no such thing as an essence specialist. Non. Nil. Zilp. Researchers have tried just about everything and the problem is that you can't easily manipulate essence, and there's no way to adjust the gains. Even if you see the field we don't know how to interact with it. I've never seen any passives related to it.”

Corvayne looked at Bell, then back at Leigue. “Okay. If I was able endow someone with a talent that boosted how much essence was collected from a monster...”

“It's a fixed amount, you can only lower it.” He looked worried. “And I will say if you can somehow do that, you are going to get yourself and the person you imbue kidnapped and probably killed. The top groups in the Tower are willing to kill people for leaking their secrets. Even ones that should be minor.”

Corvayne thought about why Leigue had a skill to see steps in classes, and guessed it would mostly be used to copy or steal someone elses work. ID a potion, figure out where the ingredients are. Heck, if he had compass he might be able to look at a component and figure out where someone got it.

Grunt cleared his throat, then reached into his pouch, pulling out a pink piece of chalk. He mimed a magnifying glass.

Leigue nodded, took a puff of his extra large cigarette, then with a hand cast a spell.

Endless Chalk +1.

Magic Item.

Green.

This piece of magic chalk has no finite limit to the amount of dusty pink lines it can scrawl. The bonus allows drawing on surfaces one normally would not consider amendable to chalk.

“This is a pretty common Magic item. Common and nearly worthless, a good trinket to buy for a child. I assume you found it?”

Grunt smiled and shook his head, then rubbed his fingers together. He then produced a handful of them, but picked a pure white one out. He tapped a finger on it.

“Fine. I'm guessing +5.”

Endless Chalk +5.

Magic Item.

Purple.

This piece of chalk has no finite limit to the amount of startling white lines it can draw. The bonus improves writing and drawing speed and allows one to write and draw on surfaces that one normally would not consider amendable to chalk, as well as erase words written on said surface.

Leigue laughed a little in triumph. “An epic item that I could buy off an adventurer for 10 essence.”

Grunt sneered, and with a wave of his hand displayed his status screen in the open.

Grunt Slabthrust – Level 15 Heavy (2) (+12)/ Level 10 Basher (3) (+25)

Cons: Deep Green – A brute unable to leverage his considerable strength to his advantage, anyone with a touch of agility and the endurance to whittle him down will have no issues what so ever. His history is about what you would expect looking at him.

Thug → Heavy

Core Traits: Big Guy, Knuckle Dusting

Core Powers: Size ++, Con++

High Skills: Intimidate 32, Clubs 25, Fortitude 24, Dodge 5, Reading 2

“That's abysmal.” The elf said, then stopped. “An embarrassing... Wait. Reading isn't a skill.”

Grunt was grinning like crazy. “No, it's not. Speed Reading is. Literacy is. But Reading isn't a skill.”

Grunt took the Plus Five Chalk in one hand, using a damp paper towel in the other to wipe Reading off his list and then draw in the same pristine lettering 'Literacy 2'.

“Okay, and your levels are fake? It should put Basher first as your highest tier. Well shit, that makes me feel a lot less confident about my profiles.”

Grunt shrugged, then pointed at his eye, and pushed the screen right up in the elf's face. He tapped Core Powers, then pointed at the ++s.

“Oh! I see. You didn't draw them perfectly. It's also not a perfect match for the color.”

Spears picked up a blue piece of chalk and looked at it, then looked at Grunt. Corvayne saw and felt something like suspicion through [[Unity]], a flavor he linked with the face of a man on TV. She was feeling 'My wife didn't crash my car' very strongly in Grunt's direction. Then there was a sharp spike of 'You son of a bitch!' which was also the next face the man had.

She started to stand up and point, crying out “Oh my god, you!!!” and Grunt grabbed her watery hand put a finger to her mouth, and gestured with a sharp side toss of his head. They stepped away from the table. Corvayne gathered his chalk back into a bag and stored it.

Bell nudged Corvayne. “Do we need to check in?”

“I don't think it's that much of a deal to hide your stats. I'll talk to her later about it.” He got that he was missing something, but he didn't sense hostility. “Anyway, if I could get someone to get that sort of sight, what would be the type of base class best suited for it?”

“Bard or Researcher, maybe Arcane Engraver as your Tier 1 job if you need to get Mana Sight as a trait and evolve it to see essence. Again, the problem is that essence doesn't interact with anything. People have tried. Large groups will sometimes dust off the research they did a long time ago with a new item and set of ideals and powers to aim for, and gave up. The tools for seeing it are cheap.”

So was the chalk. At least, it was before Grunt showed the elf how it was supposed to be used. Corvayne looked around for Mister I. “Okay. Find me an Engraver. Can you barter for a tool that will let her see it here?”

The elf smirked and produced a monocle. “I tried to do what you are doing, and it might be satisfying to see if your plan to do the impossible.”

“We level someone up while watching differences in essence flowing with normal kills. Then I'll show them a way to get slightly more essence. If possible, find someone who's not squeamish.”

Leigue stood up. “Squeamish? Are you going to operate on them?”

“No, but I might need to show them something gruesome.” Corvayne tapped the table. “Can you find me an Arms Caller, but uh, not the golden princess if at all possible.”

“Planning to become a magician?”

“Lady Blood Claw I think was showing me evolutions of my class. The system thinks I can go that way, and I can anticipate what the other two she showed were doing, but I want to ask them about that class.”

“It is your choice, prince Watcher. But the pickings may be slim.” He stood up and in a few steps faded into the seemingly normal sized tavern around them. Corvayne got the next round of drinks for Spears and Bell, picking something fruity for his absent girlfriend and getting Bell an expensive wine.

Bell and Spears pick showed up to the table not long after Corvayne returned. She looked to be packing a lot of cybernetic enhancements, with some obvious engineering tricks to pull energy from vibrant blue jewels she had exposed where she didn't have chrome armor. She looked like a soldier and gave Bell a smart salute. Given the large rifle on her back, it suggested to Corvanye that Bell wanted to see what a fully all-in gun build might look like.

Lady Blood Claw looked up and smiled. “At ease. Sit and take a drink while we ready up. How long is your tour?”

“Five Floors Two bosses. Just like nature intended.”

Spears returned next, sitting next to Corvayne. She had a far-away look on her face, watery eyes looking up at the rafters holding the ceiling up. Not that Corvayne could follow them to a wall half the time, so perhaps they were just decorative rafters.

Mister I showed up with a robed older man who was tugging his beard. He gave them all an eyebrow, but said nothing. Corvayne guessed that it was either a master cultivator or Mister I had gotten scammed. Only one way to find out.

The soldier woman broke out a deck of cards and Corvanye joined in. The catch was that Lady Blood Claw told everyone to use whatever means they could to cheat without getting caught, so Corvayne abused compass to check hands, Lady Blood Claw seemed to also be marking cards with fairy fire based on her eyes, Mister I seemed to just have excellent luck, and the soldier had a cybernetic eye and was counting cards, possibly marking them with her fingers as Corvayne was pretty sure they smelled a little like vinegar when he handled them.

Leigue came back. He had two figures and they cut quite the difference. First was the rune carver. A skinny girl wearing what looked like torn clothes. Her skin was a bright red, and her eyes were black with glowing blue irises. The red skin had white spots were scars had happened, and Corvayne suspected it wasn't because she was in a bar fight. She was missing an arm, the stump bloody and wrapped up in cloth. Demonic Corvanye couldn't imagine her being older then 15.

Peshe – Level 1 Rune Carver (1) / Level 5 Slave (0) (Free, Cannot level this class)

Cons: Extremely Green – Low levels, limited skills, and no powers combine to make her incredibly weak. As part of a slave caravan that wandered into an unknown portal, Peshe was meant to be sold to a mages guild. Her escape left her stuck on floor 5 with no money.

Core Traits: Mana Sight, Call of Freedom.

Core Powers: None

Artifacts: Steelheart Bloodline 0/3, Fortunes Fool 0/3.

Notes: 5 Unspent stat points.

Notes: 5 Unspent skill points.

Notes: 1 Unspent Feat ((error, need initialization data, pending admin review))

Notes: 5 Unspent Talent points. ((error, need initialization data, poor connection to ????))

Condition: Starving, Poisoned, Bleeding, Mana Sickness

High Skills: Fortitude 10, Stealth 7, Daggers 6, Survival 4, Dodge 3.

“Leigue, a word.” Corvayne gestured the elf to come over, and internally winced when the girl cringed.

“Young prince, I am sorry! There were no other choices.”

“No, I don't care you brought the gold princess. I knew as soon as I saw her she'd become my problem in some way. I want to ask you, and please be honest, how long has an escaped slave girl been sitting at a table slowly dying?”

“As long as you sit down, it will keep you alive. Someone gave her good advice. She is useless however, and most people looking for mercs will not pull useless people, and REALLY wont pull someone who is a level 1 crafter on deaths door.” He took a cigarette out. “The answer of course is five minutes. If you cannot help her, I will risk Falenti's wrath and drop my contract.”

Corvayne felt a spike of feral fear coming from the girl as Mister I approached, and so he used [[Unity]] to help offload some of that fear until Mend kicked in. Mister I guided the girl to the table, his eyes stern. He strode to the bar, and returned with soup.

A shrill voice asked “You dare address her before me?”

Corvayne shifted his attention to Buh'Bo Truegold, the Arms Caller. He gestured for an open chair with Bell as a buffer between her and the crying girl nearly trying to swallow a bowl of soup whole. Despite the difference in attitude, Corvayne felt more fear and anxiety from Babs. He saw that yes, for as impressive as her tier was he got the distinct feeling she was young. Kind of reminded him of Nyxion and Bell rolled together. He liked Bell, and so at least would throw the woman before him a rope.

She stared at Corvayne, and he opened [[Unity]] passively to feel horror and embarrassment as she realized that he wasn't going to stand, bow, scrape, or do anything but placidly wait for her to sit at his command.

“I want to greet both of you. My name is Corvayne. I am looking to hire assistance on the boss and next five floors, as well as the floor 10 boss. I don't need the help to actually slay two bosses, but because I have questions about classes and you two are going to be compensated well to answer them. After we are done... we can discuss what you want to do.”

He looked at the wounded girl first, and he tried not to smile or frown. Neutral. Boring. Dependable. He could feel distrust. “I'm going to be developing what might be a new class. New, as in the system requirements may never have been met. A class we suspect exists.”

The starving girl shrank in her chair. He kept going, steady. Dependable. “This will not require you to do anything painful, but you might have to watch something violent with a magic item on to try and upgrade your current trait. If we fail or even if we succeed, you are free to hitch a ride with us back to our home, or return to your world with payment for your assistance. 20 gold even if you say no, right now. 400 green essence crystals pass or fail after the next few floors, and a ”

He turned to Babs. “I wanted to know more about your class, as it may be an evolution and I don't have access to fancy books covering Tier 5. I'm going to offer you 200 green essence crystals after the first boss provided you show off your class skills, and this if during the next 5 floors you give me a run down of how your class is intended to work.” He produced a black shard, and clamped an arm on it when she nearly jumped across the table at it.

“Oh! YES! My fortune is coming back! Hmm. I will accept your offer. But be warned, crossing me is an affront to the heavens, and I bear the seal of one of the great floor 80 clans.” For all her bluster, there was denial and fear. Frustration too. She was angry at him, herself, and the bar. Probably the universe.

Bell squeezed Corvayne's leg under the table, pushing a little bit of mental support through the link.

“I suspect, Buh'Bo, that you are currently having difficulties. Perhaps dwindling funds and frustrating encounters with people who are unaware of your potential? Let me be clear. I am employing you. If you need the money I am offering, of which my down payment will be generous, then all you need to do is give me information on your class. I don't care about if you think you are better then anyone, nor your secret bloodlines, nor anything past tier 5. If anything about Arms Caller itself is a trade secret not worth the black shard, then stand up and walk away. I can try again on floor 10.”

He sat back, and saw that just about all the girls at the table were focused on him like a hawk. He pushed embarrassment down.

“This will require some meandering. We will compensate you for each day spent with 100 green crystals. This rate seems fair for experts on this floor. If it not sufficient, we will go looking for allies again.”

The old man Mister I had found raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Corvayne really wasn't sure if the guy could talk. Maybe playing dumb to avoid giving away he was clueless? It did at least make him seem mysterious and wise. He then coughed. “A suitable sum for drinking while working incognito. I will instruct your uncle then. If I need to step in to save you all, it will be a days wages per blow.”

“Fine, but that's only if we call for your help Mr. Oseem. Start trying to rack up free money by claiming we are threatened by goblins and the deal is off.” Corvayne had a window telling him the guy's name as he started to speak and manged to make it seem smooth.

The cyborg saluted. “Yes sir Corvayne.”

Preshe nodded. “I... I accept. But-”

Corvayne held up a hand. “I am aware of your classes, levels, and skills. I trust my agent who found you of your potential.”

He inwardly made a note that he would have to see about running the tower a few times just to help people stuck on floor 5 out. He recalled Grunt helping the miners out, and shot a small smile at his friend, then turned to the last member of the table.

The gold mage started speaking. “If you expect me to submit to your humiliating terms-”

Corvayne waited her out. He had read her tirade before, and heard parts of it from Bell. A lot of it was how powerful a Tier 5 was on this floor. He waited for her to say 'If you knew who I was' which was close enough.

“Do you have a lot of money right now? Do you have any allies? Do you have more allies then enemies?”

She was silent, staring daggers at him. The fear in her was now boiling rage. Corvayne folded his hands, and suddenly he knew who he was emulating. Wasn't this what was across from him at the dinner table every night as a Watcher? Or even the council meetings. But he wouldn't be cruel. [[Understanding]] and his own experience wouldn't let him.

“I'm offering you something too. Someday, you intend to retake your kingdom, correct? You need help. To get that help, you need to decide, in the next minute, if you are going to continue be the princess that lost it, or the queen who can take it back.”

She covered her face. “You fiend! You know I have no choice but to accept. Know this, even as you take me as your third wife, I will not passively-”

Corvayne bolted out of his chair. “Stop right now. That was not a proposal.”

She sniffed, but Corvayne was getting alarming feelings from [[Unity]]. “You are a prince. There's only one way princes make queens. And I will resist you every step of the way.”

Fuck fuck fuck abort abort. Bell! Corvayne looked over at his backup. She wasn't paying attention? How? Spears, on the other hand, looked amused.

“Okay. Resist away. I'm not actually royalty. I will make you a leader, then break our engagement when you fall in love with my handsome right hand man.”

Grunt started acting bashful. Corvayne cleared his throat. “Other right hand man.”

Grunt nodded, and mimed floating and sticking his chin up.

Buh'Bo wasn't paying attention to Grunt and jutted her gold chin up. “I doubt you-”

“He is the heir to an empire that was taken by a man who killed his grandfather and father and has sworn revenge.”

Her hands broke splinters off the table, one of them shooting out to shake his. “Don't get angry when you fall for me and lose me and him at the same time!”

Mister I's eyes were twinkling. He felt through unity pride in him, which was as embarrassing as nearly getting engaged. What was with princesses and him?

Corvayne shrugged. Nyx was either going to love him or kill him for this.