By the time they reached the new inn, thanks to Lila's muddled directions and too many inquiries with drunken locals, they arrived at the Five Crossings Inn, located at the intersection of five streets. Situated just a few blocks from the edges of Mudside proper, it straddled the line between safe and suspect, at least by Justin's estimation.

The common room was dimly lit by flickering sconces. Worn wooden beams supported a low ceiling stained with age and smoke. A squat hearth glowed at the far end, its coals banked for the night, while mismatched chairs surrounded thick tables scarred by decades of dice games and tankard slams. A faint smell of ale lingered in the air. Despite the hour, the place felt lived-in rather than abandoned.

Behind the bar, the innkeeper jolted upright with a snort, blinking furiously. He was a small, thickset man with droopy cheeks and a bristly fringe of gray hair. His round, watery eyes gave him the look of a startled basset hound. Without a word, he slid two iron keys forward—one for each of them—and gestured vaguely toward the rear hall.

Justin glanced at the keys, their room numbers carved into the iron. No further explanation was offered.

Justin nodded, pocketing his key. It was late, and he had little energy for speculation.

He found his door easily—Room 6—but didn't need to unlock it.

Lila opened it from the inside.

Surprised, he saw her barefoot, hair mussed, and eyes rimmed with red. She looked like she hadn't slept at all.

"Sharing again?" he asked.

She gave him a wan smile. "Not really used to sleeping alone anymore. I knew you wouldn't mind."

Justin chuckled wearily as he stepped in. "You could've picked the bigger bed, you know."

"There's two," she replied.

The door clicked shut behind him as he surveyed the small but clean room. There were two narrow beds, a single shuttered window, and a washbasin atop a chipped vanity. The air smelled faintly of lavender and pine tar, likely from the cleaning agent.

He had already told her everything via Elea's Whisper, so there was nothing left to explain.

"I'm glad you're back safe," Lila said as she watched him sit down. "But promise me, no more heroics."

"Sorry," he replied with a yawn. "I don't know what got into me."

"You've gotten stronger, but Belmora's a different game. It attracts the best and the brightest, not to mention the most ruthless. People here will cut your throat for the privilege of shaking your hand first."

He knew she wasn't being dramatic. It was good advice, albeit grim.

Too tired to argue, Justin barely managed to pull off his boots before collapsing into bed.

Moments later, sleep claimed him.

The sunlight streaming through the grimy window woke Justin earlier than he wished. He groaned and rolled over, determined to ignore it. That's when a notification flashed before his eyes:

[Jester's Gamble activated! You have gained +6 to your Power attribute for the day.]

[Random Enchantment: Wild Surge – 50% chance for any skill's effects to be doubled; 50% chance for them to do nothing.]

Justin blinked at the message and muttered, "Yeah… I can't work with that."

Sitting up, he focused on his Ring of Hygiene. He equipped the Cane of the Drake, hoping to avoid whatever chaotic energy the Jester had conjured.

But as soon as he switched canes, he saw on the interface that the Power boost was still active. Moreover, the Wild Surge enchantment remained in effect.

"What the hell?"

Another notification appeared, along with a mocking voice in his head.

[Thought you could escape the Jester's Roulette, hmm? Not so fast! It's not roulette unless you let the ball fall where it may! This cane has a hidden enchantment: Sticky. All enchantments persist for the rest of the day, even if you unequip this cane. Just thought you'd like to know!]

A maniacal laugh echoed in Justin's mind, loud and unwelcome. He jumped.

"Christ on a cracker!"

Lila sat bolt upright in her bed, her eyes still puffy with sleep. "What? What happened?"

Justin shook his head and explained everything: the +6 Power, the Wild Surge enchantment, and the fact that his shiny new cane was both sentient and sarcastic.

Lila listened, her eyes widening slightly, then burst into laughter.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, wiping a tear from one eye. "But that's hilarious. A talking cane that brings chaos? It could only happen to you."

"It's not hilarious! I thought switching it out would work. But if the enchantment sticks around and we end up in a fight, it could seriously screw us. Who's ever heard of a hidden enchantment, honestly?"

"I've never heard of that either. But it doesn't shock me. Either way, it could be worse. We just have to make sure not to get into any fights today. We'll lie low. It's supposed to be a calm day anyway." She paused, then frowned. "Do you think… if you go to sleep without equipping it, it won't trigger in the morning?"

"I hope so. Otherwise, I could wake up with something that cripples me. Or explodes. Or both."

That finally wiped the smirk from Lila's face. "Well… yeah, that'd be bad. But don't write the cane off just yet. It could just as easily give you something amazing. You've got a gambler's heart. You'll figure it out."

Justin scoffed. Easy for her to say. "I don't have much of a choice. I'm stuck with it for now. And if this thing is still attached to me even if I never equip it again..."

The thought was truly horrifying, but if that was the case, he would figure it out.

Lila swung her legs out of bed and stretched. "Not how I wanted to be woken up, but I guess we have a big day ahead of us. Let's try to keep things less… interesting."

Justin grunted. If the cane wanted to play games, fine. But he wasn't about to let it control him.

They gathered in the common room. Alistair was already awake, captivating the other women with stories of his adventures. Tamsin laughed openly, while Rinna listened with interest. Zira and Ilsa appeared quiet and confused, and Rita watched him closely, smiling but uncomprehending due to the language barrier.

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Justin supposed today was the day they figured out what to do next. He ordered a healthy breakfast platter of eggs, potatoes, and sausage for everyone, who dug in ravenously. He was pleased to discover the inn served coffee. Even if it was expensive, he ordered a pot filled with cream and honey. It had been far too long.

The inn lacked a private dining room, offering only a communal space near the hearth, where rough wooden tables sat beneath low beams stained dark with smoke. He chose a corner table, hoping the Aurelians were still nursing their wounds and wouldn't think to snoop around a second-rate inn like this one. Nevertheless, he kept his Jester's Roulette close.

The morning passed in a blur of logistical planning.

Zira was the simplest to address. Tall and reed-thin, with sun-darkened skin and a proper manner of speaking, she made no pretense otherwise. Her cropped black hair framed a gaunt, no-nonsense face that bore the marks of too much hardship for her years.

"I want to go back to Sunspire," she stated plainly. "I have an aunt there. She might take me in if I arrive in decent shape."

"Done," Justin replied. "I'll arrange safe passage as soon as we're secure ourselves."

Zira nodded, not thanking him aloud, but her posture softened.

Next was Tamsin, the oldest of the group. She had the wiry build of a lifelong laborer, her plain linen dress hanging loosely from hunger. Her brown eyes held a quiet steadiness.

"I just want honest work," she said, rubbing a calloused thumb over the rim of her mug. "I can sew, cook passably, clean, mend boots, and keep an eye on things. I've worked in taverns, kitchens, back rooms, and even helped watch kids. I'm not afraid of hard work. I just want to be treated decently."

Justin easily read her face and recognized her honesty and competence, which mattered more than any other quality. "I may have use for your skills. Eventually, we'll need someone to manage a permanent base of operations. That will come with responsibilities—ordering supplies, keeping the place running, and maybe even managing staff if it grows that large."

Tamsin's brown eyes widened, and Justin, observing with Insightful Gaze, saw her hope stir like embers catching a breeze. She was grounded and cautious but eager to prove herself.

"By all the gods old and new, you won't regret it, Mr. Talemaker," she said. "In the meantime, I'll work however you need me. All I ask is a fair wage and fair treatment."

"You'll have both," Justin promised. "Let's give it a week and see how it feels."

She nodded, her weathered face breaking into the closest thing she had to a smile.

Next came Rita, who sat beside Tamsin like a shadow. She was small and pale-skinned, with dark eyes that frequently darted to the door and hands that never stopped fidgeting. Her short, unevenly chopped hair gave her a nervous, skittish air.

Her conversation was conducted entirely through Lila's translation.

"She wants to stay," Lila said. "She asked if she could work under Tamsin. She says she feels safe with her."

Justin raised an eyebrow at the older woman.

Tamsin shrugged. "Fine by me. The girl's got nowhere else to go. Better here than in the streets."

"Agreed," Justin said. "Tell her she's welcome to stay. We'll sort out the details."

Rita gave a small bow of gratitude, and Justin got the impression that while she understood very little, she grasped enough to feel relief.

Ilsa was the hardest to pin down. She was striking in a cold, severe way, with sharp cheekbones, narrow hazel eyes, and lips that rarely curved into anything but a smirk. Her dark hair, which had been so unruly before, was now somewhat tamed by a tight braid, and there was a deliberate precision to the way she moved, as though she weighed every gesture. Again, Justin noticed the scabs on her knuckles.

Justin tried to break the ice. "Any thoughts on what you want to do next?"

She shrugged. "Haven't decided."

"Any skills you'd like to offer?"

"I'm good with numbers," she said. "I used to handle the ledgers for a local gambling ring. That, and people tend to tell me things."

It was vague, and something about her put Justin on edge. He couldn't explain it, but there were too many masks on that face, too many angles. He considered pressing her, but what would he even say? My gut says you're trouble wasn't exactly diplomatic. He couldn't make decisions based on hunches alone.

He noted it and filed it away. If she slipped, he'd be ready. He wouldn't discard her before she had done anything wrong. He could share his impressions with Lila and Alistair or, better yet, subtly gauge their feelings.

Finally came Rinna, the Level 6 Enchanter. She was much cheerier this morning, a petite young woman with bouncing honey-colored hair.

"I want to work with you," she said brightly. "You're clearly going places, and I don't want to miss this opportunity. If you're considering setting up shop, space is cheap in Mudside. It may not have great visibility, but it's a start. Many of the big families and guilds avoid that area."

"True, but it's rife with gangs," Tamsin replied sagely. "If I were you, Mr. Talemaker, I'd establish a shop somewhere closer. Good folks with money will be too scared to venture into Mudside."

Justin nodded. "Good to know."

He turned back to Rinna. She reminded him of every salesperson he'd ever encountered: enthusiastic, opportunistic, and tireless. But she was also skilled and already had a few levels under her belt. She wanted in, and he would be a fool to turn her away without finding a way to utilize her.

The women, sensing the conversation was winding down, had their own questions. Most were innocent: Where was he from? Did he have family in Belmora? From where did House Talemaker hail? Was he truly a noble, or just lucky?

Justin answered their questions as best he could. He kept his story vague but consistent, portraying himself as the younger son of a minor noble house from the Wildwood, one that had fallen on hard times. With little inheritance to speak of, he'd come to Belmora to forge his own path.

Alistair sat beside him, silent but watchful. Justin could feel the weight of his gaze—steady, assessing, impossible to ignore. Behind those blue eyes, questions were forming like storm clouds on the horizon.

He always knew this moment would come; he just hadn't expected it quite so soon.

Eventually, the gathering wound down. Zira excused herself to pack. Tamsin, Rita, and Ilsa took it upon themselves to tidy the rooms. Rinna, still energetic, had already darted off to scout potential shop locations.

Justin was starting to relax—if only slightly—when Alistair cleared his throat.

"Justin," he said in a carefully measured tone, "might we speak?"

Justin stilled. That tone never indicated anything simple.

"I have a feeling I know what this is about," Lila said, slipping in smoothly. "Mind if I join?"

Justin nodded, grateful for the backup.

Only the three of them remained now. A decent murmur filled the common room, but most had left after breakfast.

Alistair folded his arms and fixed Justin with a thoughtful look.

"I don't know much about you," he said. "We only worked together for a few days, after all. But I've seen enough to know you've changed."

"Changed?" Justin arched a brow. "In what way?"

"In a good way," Alistair replied. "When we first met, you were like a fawn on the highroad. Wide-eyed, vulnerable, unsure of your own legs. Now? You took command of a dangerous situation. You made decisions. You saved lives. That kind of growth in just a few months…" He shook his head slightly. "Few rise so quickly. And reaching Level 20 so soon... well, it tells me you're no ordinary man. Neither is Lila, for that matter."

He paused.

"I suspect the Creator Himself has a hand in your path."

Justin leaned back, sighing. "So you already know. About… that."

"I assumed," Alistair said. "I'm guessing Eldrin filled you in?"

"Everything he knew," Justin replied. "But I don't know what he told you."

"Only that your story was worth hearing. And that it should come from your lips."

Justin's tension eased just a little. He owed Eldrin a drink for not saying anything more than he had to. Alistair's expression revealed no deception. Perhaps he suspected something about Justin's past, but he couldn't be sure.

"I trust you," Justin said. "You nearly died for us without knowing half the story. You sensed the danger and acted. That means something. That means a lot. And I want to tell you the full truth. But I need your word: what I say next cannot leave this room."

Alistair raised a hand. "Justin… truly, there's no need."

That said everything. He suspected. And he didn't want confirmation. Because if he knew for sure, he would be forced to act.

Justin almost let it go.

Almost.

"We're working together," Justin said. "You deserve to know who I really am."

Alistair opened his mouth to object again, but Justin cut him off.

A shimmer of golden script flashed before him.

[Gentleman's Agreement Proposed!] For the next hour, any information imparted by Justin Talemaker or Lila Fairwind to Alistair of Drakendale may not be revealed in any form whatsoever to anyone, outside parties already privy to this information, unless permission is explicitly granted by the aforementioned parties. This agreement is vouchsafed by the Creator Himself.

Alistair blinked. "You don't trust me."

It wasn't a question.

"I do," Justin replied. "That's why I'm invoking this. I trust you enough to tell you the truth, but I need to protect you from it."

Alistair looked like he wanted to argue. He contemplated for a long time, no doubt wondering if it was morally correct to agree.

But curiosity, it seemed, was enough to break down even Paladins.

"I accept. If we don't have trust, we have nothing."

Justin smiled faintly. "Exactly. But let's not talk here. Better safe than sorry."

The three of them rose and made their way to Alistair's room. Once inside, Justin gently closed the door behind them.

It was time to tell him the truth and finally lay the foundation for something more solid, not based on false assumptions.

Justin steeled himself and began his tale.

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