"Welcome, Legend Hawgrave. I bid you—"
"Cut the shit, Stormhalt. I'm here because Kathereine asked me to be, not because you summoned me. So, what do I need to break this time? Are the Jotun coming down from the north again? Do I need to kill another Chieftain? Or maybe the Feathered Serpent finally got his head out of his ass, and now he's making a run on our southern border. That'll be a fun fight."
"Not quite so. The crisis we face is both a complicated and delicate matter."
"I don't do complicated and delicate, Stormhalt. That's Washington's business. Or Carisi's. You should probably ask them if you want a gentle touch."
"Oh, but it will be worth it. And I need you specifically. We have the go-ahead. It's finally time."
"Finally time for what?"
"We have confirmation that Roland Arrow seeks to invoke the ritual. I know that we have had a great many differences, Jessica. But on this, on this, we will both finally see a blood debt squared."
"Huh, that arrogant shit is finally going for it. Well, I didn't think I would see the day. I also didn't expect the Starhawk to let him. But wait, why hasn't he been declared a traitor by the Council? Why are we meeting so hush-hush? This seems to be a bigger deal than you're presenting it to be."
"Because the Ascendants are still divided! And because they are hesitant to stand against the Starhawk. They worry that a forceful approach will provoke him."
"But the Starhawk's already provoked. I'll tell you right now what I told Kathereine years ago. Either pull him back in the fold, redact him, or kill him. There's no other way about it. I know she still thinks he's family, but there's no chaining another god. Dammit. Family makes things fucking messy. Speaking of family… Blackedge, we're going to keep that town intact. Minimal casualties."
"Of course. I only want to see Roland brought down and delivered to justice. And also the Perch secured. The Perch and all the other sacred relics he has been hoarding."
"Right, good. Because I think I got a grandniece there, last I checked. Descended from my late husband's brother. I don't much care for that piece of shit, but you know how it is. The girl should get to live. All for family and the ones we have left, right?"
"Yes. On that we are joined. All for family and the ones we have left. But some of us have very little left, Hawgrave. Very, very little left."
-City Lord Havel Stormhalt and Legend Jessica Hawgrave
153 (I)
Unexpected
Shiv accepted Hawgrave's handshake, apprehension filling his chest. Alarm bells were going off in his mind. For the Legend to be here, hidden inside his holding cell, Stormhalt had to still suspect him.
But of all the people or ways he could have spied on me, I didn't expect her, Shiv thought to himself.
Hawgrave's grip was nothing special. She was strong, but aside from that, he couldn't glean anything else so far.
She stared up at him with a playful gleam in her eye. "That's a pretty strong shake you got there, Master-Inquisitor. What are you, a High Adept now in terms of Physicality?"
Shiv almost reactively softened his handshake, but that would have been even more suspicious. As if she isn't testing me right now. Shiv grimaced internally. What the hells does she know?
"Yeah, High Adept," he replied. Shiv let out a slight cough, framing embarrassment. "I leveled a few times, escaping from the Necrotechs. I didn't have any weapons, so I had to make do. I killed a few Deathstalkers using a makeshift club I made from a pipe and a piece of concrete. Got quite a few levels that way."
"Oh, nice." Hawgrave giggled. "You know, I miss being encircled or captured and then needing to break out of places. It's one of my guilty pleasures. But once you get to Legend, not many people can capture you so easily anymore. Life gets a lot more boring." She blew a stray strand of hair out of her eye and smiled slowly. "Or really, really exciting, when you actually find someone that can challenge you."
She licked her lips. Something was very, very wrong.
Shiv looked down at her hand and swallowed. "Can I… Is it appropriate for me to let go now, Legend Hawgrave?"
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"Didn't I just tell you to call me Jessica?"
"Yes, of course, Jessica."
"Well, you can let go of my hand now, Morgan."
He did so and took a step back. He briefly glanced at her blade and noticed how it mirrored his movements. It was hovering just behind her, and Shiv's instincts told him that if he made any sudden movements, that rusted slab of metal would likely be greeting his neck.
"I—it honors me that you—I—" Shiv stammered and tried to make it seem as natural as possible. He didn't know Morgan Hyde's personality exactly, but when a Legend showed up in front of you, some nervousness was probably appropriate.
She waved him off. "Yeah, knock that shit off too. I'm just a Legend. Aside from that, I'm like every other girl in the world. Well, every other girl who's survived over a century of combat in this nightmarish hell we call Integration. Anyway, I'm really impressed you managed to see me. I know you had High Adept Awareness as well. But still, you wanna know how many Masters just let me slip by under their notice?"
She waited for Shiv to ask her, and finally he did. "How many?"
"Too many," she answered. "At least ten in the past few hours." She looked back at the crack she'd been hiding in and laughed. "It's a bit of a hobby of mine, you know? Shrinking down and running through Talsand's ventilation systems."
"Talsand?" Shiv asked.
And then he winced. And he realized, too late, that this was probably something Morgan Hyde would know. He tried to remedy that failure by sputtering, "I…Talsand… I'm having a hard time remembering some things because..." He gestured at his head. "They hurt me pretty bad."
Acting 14 > 15
Titansbane pressed her lips together and tutted in pity. "Ah, Psychomancers. The felling bastards. You know, of all the enemies I've run into, of all the enemies I've killed, I hate Psychomancers the worst. One thing to get stabbed to death. Another thing to be trapped inside your own body because your mind collapsed, right? Like someone forcing you to go demented."
"Right," Shiv said, letting out a relieved sigh. "The felling bastards."
"Still, it's kind of insulting that you forgot Talsand, of all people. I mean, especially since he's been carrying you out for the past week or so. Isn't that right, Talsand?"
A low rumble sounded from all around them. "It happens sometimes. No hard feelings," a droning voice spoke.
And slowly Shiv began putting details together. Apparently, Talsand was a person. No, not a person, Shiv thought. The way she was describing them, Talsand was likely an automaton. Shiv's eyes widened. Am I inside an automaton right now? Wait, how big can an automaton get? Because this feels larger than a building.
He directed a mana field against a wall and felt it bounce off. This place was warded. Shiv struggled not to clench his fists. Something was very wrong. Instinct told him he was compromised, but he didn't know how, and Hawgrave's behaviour confused him even more if it was actually the case.
The woman in question nodded slightly. "Anyhow, now that you've spotted me, I can't really do the job I was originally supposed to. It's hard to be a creepy stalker when your stalkee has noticed you."
Shiv stared at her awkwardly, and she just laughed.
"Oh, relax, Hyde, I'm not here to perv on you or anything, you're far too young for my tastes. I'm just here to see if you've been compromised in any way. In any non-obvious way."
"I don't understand what you mean, ma'am."
"Oh, the Necrotects have a lot of dirty tricks up their sleeves. And you won't believe the things I've run into before. Shapeshifters. Skinwalkers. You know, I even accidentally killed an invisible New Albion spy once. Totally by accident. Wasn't trying at all." She turned around and pointed at her sword. "Swung old Rusty here without looking and cut him in half. Tell him, Rusty."
"I still remember the blood, gristle, and bone parting," the sword said. Its voice was deep, but it had a refined quality to it. Shiv thought it was the way a scholar might sound. If the scholar was a two and a half meter long greatsword. OK. Sentient weapon. Another potential problem.
Hawgrave giggled. "I totally messed up that time because I didn't see him there, but you know, things have a tendency to work out in life, wouldn't you agree?"
Shiv wasn't sure what she was implying, but he nodded slowly. "I hope so."
"You hope so…" Hawgrave sighed. "Well, fine, since I can't just stare at you from the crack anymore, I'm going to try a more direct method. Are you actually Morgan Hyde? Last chance to come clean if you're not."
Shiv's stomach turned to lead. "What? Of course I am."
He did his best to keep his hammering heart in check as Hawgrave looked him up and down. "Well, you do look like him." Her eyes flashed with mana. "And you do have his Path. All the right skills too. But why do I still have that funny feeling, old Rusty?"
"Because of the orc," Rusty intoned.
"Right, the orc. The orc that curiously surrendered himself to us. The orc that told us all about someone interesting. His Nemesis-Beloved."
Shiv's blood turned to ice.
No. No, this is not fucking happening.
Hawgrave licked her lips. "Most people don't much like the orcs. Their response to the grayskins is usually just to kill them. I'm normally one of those people. But it's also not every day that an orc sneaks into your Fortress-City and actively surrenders himself to the Inquisition with special information on a certain Pathbearer in Gate Theborn. A Pathbearer with a mask that lets him pretend to be other people."
It took all of Shiv's willpower to stay still.
"Actually, let's consult him right now," Hawgrave said. Her blade moved a meter to her right, and its flat side flashed with the black static mana of Dimensionality. As the darkness cleared, the greatsword became a window into another place, and on the other side was a dark room, with an orc bolted to its far wall. Only his head was exposed, but Shiv would recognize those piss yellow eyes and that sadistic—yet pure—smile anywhere.
812 lifted his head, and his expression grew ever more joyful. "Ah. Deathless. We meet once again. I knew slipping out across Lone Star and getting myself interned by the Republic would raise our odds of a timely reunion. I just did not expect how soon it would be."
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