201 (II)

Neath [II]

"I wish," Shiv said. "But no, we got some serious heat coming down our ass. So, can you help or not?"

The goblin's expression grew pained, and he slowly turned back to the Educator, glaring at him. "Listen, lady, I... Look, Legends, Heroes, I don't know what you guys are. I'm sympathetic to your problems, okay? I don't much like the authorities either. But the Ascendants? I might be a Heroic-Tier Forger, but I can't hide you from Divinities. They'll take one look at you, Analyze you, and all my hard work will go up like that." He snapped his clawed fingers. "The shell will pop apart, and the semblance will break into itty-bitty pieces. Your real body and soul will slip out! It's just not possible."

"Then we've come to the wrong place, have we?" the Educator said, gripping the goblin's throat tighter. Custiel gave a keening wail of misery. He reached up and tried to pull the Educator's hand free, but where she was among the greatest powers on Integrated Earth, he was but a Forger—someone who masked souls and created false skins for people to wear, not even a Martial Pathbearer.

"Perhaps another recommendation is in order," the Educator said. "Someone capable of rising to the occasion."

"I tell you, if I knew someone who could do that..." the goblin muttered, his fear finally crossing over to a point of desperate anger. "But there's no one better, at least not in the city right now. If you want to find a Legend, then you're out of luck. You gotta go and wait. Make an appointment with the Dragon Brokers, and they'll send a specialist, assuming they think it's worth their time and you have the mithril. But you kill me, and they give you nothing. The Neath won't put up with this."

"The Neath will not know," the Educator answered, her voice falling to a growl. "They'll just find your body with his weapon lodged inside of you." The Educator pointed towards Irons, and Shiv realized her plan.

"Yeah, no, they won't," the Deathless said, folding his arms. The Educator's ire scythed away from the goblin, and her hateful glare fell upon him once more. He rolled his eyes. He wasn't going to deal with this messy bullshit. "Look, you want to frame someone for the murder of someone else? Great, except I'm not good with that. And frankly, you're just making more of a mess for the rest of us. You gonna let her do this, Adam?"

The Gate Lord responded by forming a Veilpiercer and drawing moisture out of the air. Irons's eyes widened as he felt the Gate Lord's Hydromancy, saw his body turn fluid, turn into a churning mass of raging tides.

"You will fight me for him," the Educator said, her voice colder than Gate Theborn's winds during Confriga's reign.

"I don't really know Irons, but Adam does," Shiv said casually. "And you're not doing shit to Adam or anyone he cares about. That's my position. Step over and we get bloody."

"I'm trying to help you escape, you fool!"

"You're trying to serve your interests and Udraal's. I know that I'm a part of that interest, but everyone else?" Shiv shrugged. "Maybe he wants Adam too? Gone, the Hydra, Irons, everyone? No, you don't care about them. Frankly, you care about me only as much as you want to use me. So that's what I'm going to propose right now." He took a few steps closer to the Educator. She didn't back away. She wasn't afraid of him, but with how she clutched her brush, she was wary. Her eyes jumped between him and Adam. She remembered what happened with the Necromantic rift last time. Shiv suspected she might have a counter, but traumatic injuries were traumatic injuries for a reason.

"Use you?" she said, her voice barely a whisper as she tried to control her boiling frustration. "Use you how?"

"You let me talk to him," Shiv offered. "You stay off to the side. You take a breather, whatever it is you need. Read through your tome, or I don't know, sketch some birds. You're clearly not into this whole 'human interaction' thing, so let me take a swing before you jump us into the murder and frame-job solution."

Shiv and the Educator held their stare of mutual loathing for a few moments, but then the Ascendant once known as Maia scoffed and stormed away. "Do as you please, then. Let's see if you can find us a way out. This one is useless, and that one's just a witness. We will need to settle this in the end, regardless." As she turned away and ripped the tome off her back, he heard her mumbling about how Udraal should have just let her paint everyone into her tome and mentally crippled the Deathless when he had the chance. Shiv wanted to spit at her feet while she retreated, but mustered a bit of self-control to bring the building animosity between them to an end.

"Alright," Shiv said, looking down at Custiel. The goblin was still terrified, but there was a slight hint of relief in his eyes now that he wasn't dealing with the Educator's anger issues anymore. "Custiel, is it?" Shiv said. "You might be glad to know that the people in the wine cellar aren't dead."

Custiel blinked twice. "They're not? Oh, oh, okay. What do you want for them?"

"Don't want anything. They're currently just sleeping off a few bad knocks. We got people there. They're hiding out for now. But I want to know a few things. I want to know what services you can provide and what you'd recommend for us to do."

"Recommend?" The Educator laughed out loud from where she was leaning against the wall a few meters away. Her voice was a scornful hiss. "You're treating the goblin as a consultant now, are you?"

"Hey, how about you paint quietly?" Shiv guessed, with more than a little bark in his own words as well. "I'm gonna try to figure out what we can get by having an actual conversation instead of just spitting orders at this guy. You can shit-talk me if it fails, but for now, shut the fuck up and go back to your book." He turned away from her before he could get the stink eye again. The relationship between them likely wasn't going to last. Sooner or later, one of them would take the first swing, and after that, it would be on. With that in mind, Shiv decided that he wanted to be the one who took the first swing, and he wanted to be the one who got rid of the Educator instead of the other way around.

Not waiting to get my throat slit, the Deathless thought to himself. He looked back at the goblin expectantly as the Educator started aggressively drawing in her book while continuing to mumble.

"Alright, so I'm a forger, right?" Custiel said. "I can provide falsified aesthetics and a fake soul for you. Let's you get into certain places and do certain things you might not be able to in your everyday life." He cocked his head in Irons's direction. "Did just that for that guy there. Made him a special identity. Malcolm Turner, a Hero-Inquisitor. That shell and semblance were real pieces of art. Not many semblances and skins can get you into Flamecrown Castle, but that one did."

"It also broke apart," Irons said with a growl. "It broke apart when I ran into one of the Ascendants."

The goblin threw up his hands. "Yeah, of course it did. They're Divinities! I told you there would be a limit!"

"No, you claimed that even if one of the Ascendants laid eyes upon my semblance, it would endure without suffering any harm at all."

"I was boasting!" the goblin shouted. "I was boasting! I was trying to sell my work. Don't you ever sell your work?"

"My work speaks for itself," Irons said, and the implication was clear.

The goblin just scoffed. "Yeah, great. Killing a bunch of people is just the same as making a work of art. Totally."

"Alright, alright," Shiv said. "So, you can't make a false semblance good enough to fool an Ascendant, but you can make something that can let someone get past a Legend?"

"Sure," the goblin said without a moment's hesitation. "That's easy. Legends, most of them don't have very good Awareness, let me tell you. And people with Legendary Awareness, they usually don't have a Legendary Analyze skill."

"Most Legends may be easy to fool, according to you, anyways, but what about those rare Legends with the right Analyze skill?" Adam asked.

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"Well," the goblin coughed, "it'll survive the first glance, at least. I can tell you that much."

"Alright, so not a long-term solution for them either," Shiv said. "Will it work for those Observers outside, though?"

"Yep," the Custiel replied. "They're pretty easy. Sure, they got Divination, but Divination's pretty stupid if you know how it works. See, the System likes to tell people specific details, but it's real messy about how those details are delivered. And ultimately, the System wants you to fight each other, but it really doesn't specify how. A clash between a good disguise and an inquisitive eye is also a fight in the System's eyes. So, if I build the semblance a specific way? No problem. Not even a little."

"Alright, so how fast can you make a semblance?"

"I don't know, big guy. How fast can you make a piece of art? I mean, if you're capable of making art."

"Well, that really depends on what I'm cooking. Couple of hours, usually. I wouldn't call what I'm doing now true art yet, but we'll get there." Slowly, the goblin's gaze fell to the frying pan Shiv carried.

Custiel clearly considered saying something cute but held himself back.

"Smart," Shiv commented under his breath.

"Yeah, I sure do save my own ass sometimes," the goblin lampooned. "Probably the only reason my ass is still alive after so long, really. Look, to answer your question, um... What's your Tier?"

"Legend," Shiv said casually.

"Legend?" the goblin choked out. Irons narrowed his eyes; he didn't believe Shiv. It didn't matter. "Well, if you're not bullshitting me, that's gonna take, I don't know, a week to be complete?"

Both Shiv and Adam groaned.

"I'm not waiting around for a week." Shiv sighed. "And we have a hells of a lot more than just one Legend that needs to be disguised."

"What a pointless waste of time," the Educator snapped off in the corner. "He has the means. And if not him, then the Dragon Brokers can provide. This I know. Where is the Whistler? Speak, goblin!"

"Whistler? Wha—He's dead, lady!"

She scowled. "Dead? Since when?"

"Since Chestnut Hall got raided by a group of Inquisitors in the middle of the night. After Whistler decided to get a little cute about his working arrangements and start skimming some mith off by the side." Custiel sighed. "They arrested everyone else in the parlor but left his beaten corpse shackled to the bottom of the staircase. Shackle had an insignia of a dragon on one end and the Republic's emblem on the other."

"Ah," the Educator said. "A Neath-sanctioned execution?"

"Neath-allowed," Custiel said, shuddering. "The Dragon Brokers probably tipped the Inquisitors off. Just because you get to be a Legendary Forger doesn't mean you're good enough to be a free agent. Told the dumb bastard that so many times. But he never listened. Not once. Stupid shit…"

Shiv rubbed at his face. "Was that your main backup plan, Maia? The dead guy?"

"The Brokers must have another," Maia declared, seemingly too offended by his implication of her lacking foresight to remember to be offended at the casual use of her name. "They owe me grand favors."

"And you'll get those grand favors paid once the Midnight finally lifts his veil, because no one is coming in or out without him noticing," Custiel replied. "Or the other Ascendants, for that matter." He whimpered thereafter, clutching his head. "Oh, oh, this is baaad. Lockdown… My business is going to be so felling jacked up. I need my meds too—how am I going to get the Ragiff now…"

"What?" Shiv said.

"It's a drug," Adam explained. "Specifically for goblins that develop mana allergies. It's grown only in Gate Hoidvest in Lone Star."

The Deathless mulled over everything just said and stared at Adam. A few unspoken things went between them. Radio was still in Shiv's cape. And if they were desperate, they could see if the orcs had any ideas too. On top of that, there was still Veronica and Udraal in play—but Shiv really didn't want them to be involved in this final escape any more than they already were.

The Educator waved her brush dismissively. "Enough, goblin. Begin your work. Start by creating a shell and a semblance for the Deathless. You have a day." She was spitting commands again, and Shiv was all but certain she'd been degenerated by her own godhood as well. The way she spoke to everyone was like how a ludicrously strict headmaster spoke to a pupil that wouldn't listen. He was quite certain a Pathbearer on her level couldn't possibly be this unreasonable unless something was genuinely wrong with their mind.

"A day?" Custiel sputtered. "Hey, listen, do any of you know how hard it is to forge something? To create a perfect disguise for someone's soul without damaging their mana? To make them a proper physical shell that looks like it fits and moves in accordance with their biomechanics? No? Okay, then, less complaining. And before you keep going, yeah, I meant what I said earlier. I'm your only choice. Now, unless you're willing to wait several months for a Legendary-Tier Forger to pop into the Republic—which probably isn't likely going to happen now since the capital's in lockdown—I'm the best you're gonna deal with."

"I suspect all Forgers might say that," Adam said. "What did you tell Captain Irons earlier, that you were 'boasting'?"

"Yeah, about my work, not about this. There's a reason you came to me, Irons, vouch for me!"

"Your semblance failed," Irons said from between clenched teeth.

"Yeah, 'cause you ran into someone that was too damn powerful!"

"See if he can do anything with some of that added help," Adam muttered to Shiv. "Show him the mask. If someone in the Neath can get that fixed, it will at least spare you from being noticed by everyone on the street when the System screams for them to rip your head off in exchange for almost a dozen Legendary skills."

"Yeah, I know." Shiv hesitated slightly before he pulled out another thing from his cape: his broken Mask of False Paths. He held it out to the goblin.

"What the hells' this?" Custiel asked.

"Just take it. You might know what it can do once you see the notification pop up."

The goblin did, though he accepted the mask's pieces apprehensively. A second passed, his breath hitched in his throat. "Holy shit. Perfect Semblance? Do you have any idea how rare this thing is? Heroic-Tier." The goblin smacked his lips together. He pressed the broken halves of the mask and aligned the cracks along the middle. "Still won't be strong enough to survive an Ascendant or another Divinity, but this thing will give you a free pass against practically anyone who isn't a god, assuming they aren't already suspicious. And if a deity is suspicious of you, you're fucked either way."

And that's not too bad, since the Educator can help us blend in, Shiv mused. Cripple's also available, so we have some cover from the others at least. Still doesn't solve the problem of escaping the Republic entirely, though. And we do need to get out. We need to find Blackedge again.

"Right," Shiv said. "You know anyone that can fix it?"

The goblin paused. "Well, maybe. But we don't really work for free, if you catch my drift. And I might be forgetting a few things from all the mistreatment I've suffered so far."

"The goblin thinks he suffered mistreatment?" the Educator snapped. "He doesn't know what mistreatment is."

"Ignore her," Shiv said. "Say we can pay for it. Say we have mithril or another way to pay. How fast can they fix the mask? And, uh, can any living arrangements be made in the meantime?"

"Hells, everything's possible through the Neath, but the entire Ascendancy coming after you? That's a pretty big bill for you to foot. Not saying it's impossible, though." In fact, a slow smile crawled across his face, and he started looking at Irons once more. "I think everyone in this room can help each other a bit."

As the goblin smiled, the captain frowned.

"How's that?" Shiv asked.

"Well. Fixing this thing is going to take a Heroic-Tier Crafter and a Heroic-Tier Enchanter to make sure everything works right. And if you're just looking for a way out of the city, I might got an idea."

Both Shiv and Adam leaned in. "Right. We're listening," the Deathless said.

"Well. There are two people known to provide circumspect services at a certain Academy…"

Adam flinched.

Irons groaned. "Hero-Smith Concelhaunt and Hero-Enchanter Merrielmel?"

The goblin laughed. "Familiar with them, are we?"

"I always did think they lived a little too lavishly. Even for nobility. Even if they are tenured."

Custiel grinned. "Yeah. Well. See, they contacted me about finding people desperate enough to be subjects in a new project of theirs. Something about making a device that will let someone briefly slip to, uh, some place Outside before dipping back into reality as a means of travel, if you catch my drift. Good, High-Tier warriors that are desperate at that. Their last batch didn't quite make it back."

Shiv and Adam looked at each other once more. The Gate Lord shuddered. The Deathless felt a sense of wariness and hope flicker inside him.

"Listen," Custiel said, holding up his hands. "I can make a few arrangements. You let me go, we head outside like reasonable adults and discuss this, and I might be able to get you all into the academy. City might be under lockdown, but there are still plenty of ways to get around inside. And the capital's a big place."

Shiv breathed out and nodded. "Well. I did always want to go to an academy. Irons? Is school still in session?"

Adam creased his eyebrows in thought. "It's… What, the end of week three?"

"Too late for me to get enrolled?" Shiv asked jokingly.

"Not unless you steal the identity of some poor, dead student with your repaired mask." Adam chuckled. Then they both fell silent. Their mirth faded. The idea stayed. "Say, Captain," Adam muttered. "Have there been any… unfortunate fatalities so far?"

For the first time, Captain Irons's face tightened with discomfort.

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