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  The interior and all attending flourishes were much richer in the main building. The floor was decorated with hand-made tiles, the door frames sported detailed accents, and the walls were graced with reliefs of sporting events and fanciful fountains that spouted water. A large room which spanned much of the residence building opened before us. A high ceiling, staircases leading to overlooking halls on the north and south ends. A gargantuan chandelier made of swords and spears dominated the room at its heart. Sprinkling the walkways, and right beside us, were small fountains built into the wall. A jet of water poured from a pipe to the bowl, generating the soothing sound of a country brook.

  "How's that for a VIP pass?" quipped Kyle. "This is definitely the place." He kept his tone low because a few guards rambled this way and that. "Now what?"

  "These guys are watching the main floor and the back entrance. No one's counting on us already being inside." Indeed, we huddled beside a marble staircase that no doubt led to the quarters overlooking the stadium. "All we need to do is sneak upstairs without being seen."

  "The room's wide enough that they have a decent view, though," he pointed out. "There's no place to hide on the steps."

  I nodded and eyed the wall sconce halfway up the ascent. Without that candle, the stairway would be thrust into heavier shadow. The main chandelier in the room had many sconces, but it hung low enough to be on an equal level with the second story. The marble railing obstructed some of the light from the center of the room. If we just took out the local sources, anyone looking through the railing from the other side would see only darkness.

  "You have an empty glass arrow?" I asked Kyle.

  "Not an empty one."

  "Okay, let me see one of your corrosives then."

  He handed it over. The oily black substance inside was less likely to draw attention than his yellowish exploding cocktails.

  "Does this open somehow?"

  Kyle helped me with the tiny plug of arrow feathering. When the thin vial was open, I poured the acidic concoction into the fountain. It popped and smoked a little, but emptied down the drain. A long discolored mark adorned the marble. I grimaced at the thought of defacing something so grandiose yet ultimately pointless.

  I then collected the water stream into the arrow and plugged it off. Kyle loaded it into his crossbow and I pointed to the candle. "Think you can hit that, urban sniper?"

  "You can keep calling me that as much as you want. It's not annoying. It's actually kind of cool."

  "You're right. I'll stop. Can you hit the candle?"

  He pressed his lips together. "Piece of cake, but it seems like a stupid plan."

  "Trust me. I've done it a million times."

  "Whatever, bro." Kyle leaned forward onto the stairs, braced the crossbow, took careful aim, and let loose. The glass popped in a spray of water that doused the candle.

  "What's that then?" growled a guard from the main floor. Kyle and I froze in fear as the crusader stopped and looked around for a moment. "Eh, must've been the wind," he muttered.

  Kyle's face filled with disbelief. "But the door's closed," he murmured.

  I shrugged and headed up through the shadow. No point questioning these things.

  The two of us weren't exactly master thieves. No hide skill in sight, and while I could move silently the frat bro behind me certainly couldn't. At the same time, we weren't dealing with state-of-the-art security here. This was a residence for galas or something, and everyone was busy setting up in the main stadium grounds. We made it safely to the second story without incident and turned the corner away from the open room and balcony.

  The tiled landing led to a hall with doors leading up and down, like a hotel. It was obvious which one Tannen had moved into. Not only was his door the most extravagant—it was the only one guarded by a pair of knights. We peeked at them from around the corner, safely out of sight for now.

  "How are we gonna enter the hallway without them noticing?" asked Kyle.

  I chewed my lip. Without specialization, shadows wouldn't get us any further. I picked a silver piece from my inventory and waved it at my roommate. "Check this out." I tossed it onto the tile floor across the landing and pressed Kyle back into an alcove.

  "Oi, what's that?" barked one of the guards.

  "Huh. I didn't hear anything," said the other in a coarse voice. "You must be hearing things."

  "Right. I haven't been getting sleep lately."

  The two of them stopped shuffling and went still. I scrunched my face. Kyle chuckled but I was undeterred. I pulled out another silver coin and tried again.

  "What's that there?" barked the first guard again. "You heard that?"

  "I did. I did hear that." Their boots rapped around the hall. "I'm thinking it must've been the wind."

  The first guard stopped. "Let me get this straight. You think the sound of a small object bouncing and jingling against the tile floor is the wind?"

  "Well, the wind could've knocked something over."

  "That's right. That's right."

  "See? There's nothing to fear."

  The guard grumbled. "Yer probably right. But I think I might actually do my job for once and look into it."

  "Suit yourself," returned the other.

  Kyle and I pressed into the alcove again as a single pair of footsteps neared. The other guard began whistling a tune at the door. The first turned onto the tiled landing and marched toward the noise with his back to us. I jumped on him and began to choke him out. The guy had some fight in him, though, and tried to shake me off. That was the moment I realized the subdue skill was no sure thing. I pressed tighter and wrapped my legs around his waist.

  "H—" He tried to cry but it came out empty. I had his breath. It was only a matter of time. Meanwhile, the oblivious guard at his post continued his whistling.

  The guard tried to flip me forward, but my legs were locked tight. He couldn't get me off or draw his weapon. With a last-ditch effort, he charged backward—into the hallway he'd come from—and slammed me against the wall with a crash. My vision went blurry but I held on. I refocused and turned to see the second guard standing at the door ten feet from me, whistling up a storm. He was really into it now, tapping his foot and bobbing his head. Luckily, he was looking the other way. I continued squeezing.

  The mounted crusader could no longer keep up the fight. He staggered forward, out of the hallway and the view of his partner, and collapsed to the floor. I was too dazed to properly catch him. His helmet clanged on the tile.

  The whistling stopped. "Now that was really loud wind." He advanced toward us cautiously.

  I picked up the sleeping guard's legs and desperately looked for a place to stuff him, but there were just statues and alcoves. I dragged him toward the staircase, hoping I could quick-and-dirty stash him around the corner. Kyle ducked into the alcove as the investigating crusader emerged from the hallway to see me struggling with his buddy smack in the middle of the landing.

  "Oi there! Stop!"

  He charged straight at me. I dropped the guy's legs and backed toward the balcony, drawing my spear and keeping low. The guard came at me with reckless abandon. A single thwip plugged a crossbow bolt between his shoulder blades, and this one wasn't filled with water. The attack and ensuing DoT took him by surprise. The poor guy stumbled and tripped over his unconscious friend. Instead of outright falling, he caught himself with large bumbling hops that carried him past me and over the balcony railing. He yelled the whole way down until he splashed into a shallow fountain below.

  Several knights on the bottom floor spun to the body, a single crossbow bolt protruding from his back. Their eyes slowly rose to me.

  "Um..." I gulped. "Just the shadows playing tricks on your eyes?"

  Crusader Reputation -50

  So much for my conscience and the zero kill count.

  The knights bolted for the staircases on my right and left. Kyle came up behind and launched a large vial of sticky fluid. The glass exploded against the marble and
fire rushed ten steps deep. He repeated the same for the other side, effectively walling off our position.

  "That ought to buy us time," he said.

  I nodded and made for the bishop's room.

  0930 Circus Maximus

  Kyle broke down the locked door. I rushed inside and brandished my weapon. The suite was huge but empty. We shut the door and overturned a statue to bar access, only allowing a moment to breathe before getting to work.

  "This place will take forever to search," complained Kyle.

  The suite the humble bishop had taken for his quarters wasn't supposed to be a single room at all. It spanned the central half of the Circus grounds and was filled with fancy tables and sofas and fireplaces and fountains. Thick curtains ran along the wall, thankfully hiding our presence from outside observers.

  "This is the Roman equivalent of club seats," I muttered.

  "Must be nice."

  We initiated a hasty search, checking bookcases and drawers. There were no obvious lockboxes or trophy cases. I checked the makeshift bedroom just in case Tannen was the type of guy to stuff the Eye of Orik in his sock drawer, but no luck.

  "Uh, Talon," called Kyle from the main room. "You need to have a look at this."

  Hopeful that he'd found it, I hurried from the bedroom to see him peering through the window curtains. Before I had time to figure what he was looking at, men banged on the closed door. A key clicked in the lock and the door jiggled, stuck in place due to the downed statue.

  "Damn," I said. "We're out of time."

  "That's okay." Kyle tore the heavy curtain from the hooks and dramatically twirled it to the floor behind him. Sunlight flooded the room. "I found it."

  With the guards scratching and clawing their way in, I strolled to the window and my jaw dropped. From up here we had our first view of the stadium grounds. Crowds filled the seats, with more filing in. Crusaders covered the main entrances and kept residents in place. Bishop Tannen stood on the large wooden platform they'd worked through the night to build. A large deck with a high frame. It wasn't just a stage, it was a gallows.

  "That can't be good."

  "Look," said Kyle, pointing to a podium in front of the bishop. The Eye of Orik sat neatly on a pillow, on display for all of Stronghold to witness.

  "The bastard's taunting us."

  "And he's not done, bro."

  Two priests marched along the main walk leading a horse with a prisoner slumped over the saddle. Izzy wore a hood over her head and had her hands bound behind her back.

  "What the?" I switched to party chat.

  Talon: Izzy!

  Talon: Izzy!

  "She must be knocked out," said Kyle. "That's why she can't talk."

  The priests led the horse up the platform steps and straight to one of three waiting hangman's nooses.

  "No way," I muttered.

  The door to Tannen's suite was forced open slightly. The guards yelled and stuck their arms through the opening, trying to push the statue away.

  "What do we do?" asked Kyle.

  I gritted my teeth and stepped onto the outdoor breezeway, holding my spear high above the unsuspecting army. "Kyle," I said plainly, "we're going to fuck shit up."

  The door burst open. The brewmaster heaved a fire potion at the entryway. The knights shied away but they'd be inside in no time. I hopped onto the stone railing overlooking the Circus grounds and walked to a rope tied above. There were a bunch of them, with white flags along their length, running from the Circus walls to the central gallows. More of Tannen's flourish.

  "Oh no," said Kyle. "You're not doing what I think you're doing."

  "I totally am."

  I hooked the dragonspear above the rope and leapt off the railing, zip-lining toward the center of the Circus. As I sped along, white flags ripped away one by one and fluttered down like leaves behind me. As I gained speed a buzzing sound, like a zipper, filled the stadium. People in the stands pointed my way.

  Bishop Tannen stood in the center of the deck, hands raised mid speech, facing away from me. As I rocketed toward him, he felt the eyes of the crowd leave him. His speech faltered. He looked to his side. Then he turned around and widened his eyes at the death machine zipping toward him.

  Too late. I unhooked my hold on the line and lined up the dragonspear. The poor bishop didn't have a chance. I crashed into him like a cannonball. We fired clear off the deck and landed on the dirt below.

  Charge!

  Surprise!

  Savage!

  You dealt 177 damage to [Bishop Tannen]

  Agility Check...

  Fail!

  Fall damage!

  22 damage

  I tumbled and groaned. The fall damage was a small price to pay for the devastating hit on the bishop. I'd never even seen a savage notification before.

  Crown Unlocked: Human Cannonball

  Become one with the projectile.

  1000 XP awarded

  Amazingly, Tannen had somehow avoided a stun. As he struggled to his feet, I triggered dash and hit him again.

  You dealt 42 damage to [Bishop Tannen]

  Crusaders closed in from the walls. I spun in a circle, fending them off. Crossbow bolts warned a couple of them off. My head swiveled to Tannen's suite. Wow, Kyle had nailed two knights in the neck from the other side of the Circus. I wondered if the potion gave him an accuracy bonus. More black tunics advanced, wary of the sniper.

  "Wait!" cried the bishop. He stood uncertainly, wiping blood from his mouth. "You wish to challenge me to one-on-one combat, Talon?"

  I looked into his eyes and snickered. "Not really. I just want you dead." I activated deadshot and sank the dragonspear right into his heart.

  Critical Hit!

  You dealt 57 damage to [Bishop Tannen]

  The proud man's eyes went wide again. Not fear this time. Not surprise. This was straight disbelief. The bishop couldn't fathom how a noob like me had gotten the better of him.

  "Sorry, Tannen. I'm sending you back to Oakengard."

  The crowd went quiet as I twisted the holy weapon from his chest.

  [Bishop Tannen] is dead

  He folded to the ground.

  The crusaders closed in fast. Kyle fired at them, but a rear guard held shields high and deflected the bolts. I was surrounded in seconds. Tornado spin kept them at bay, but I was cashing all my checks, one by one. Everything was in cooldown. I had nothing else to do. Instead, I saw the uncertainty in some of the crusaders' eyes and played off that.

  "I am the Protector of Stronghold," I declared, loud enough to put on a show for the entire city. "I will not stand idle while Oakengard seizes our city!"

  Mixed cheers came from the stands. Stronghold was a town divided, and not just because of the wave of Shorehome immigrants. While I'd been on my multi-day quest in the east, Tannen and the crusaders had been sweet-talking anyone who would listen. Who knew what he'd promised them.

  I scanned the edges of the grounds. Men of the city watch were posted at various locations. They were here. They could help. I turned my head. Over the wall of crusaders and their flailing weapons, the Eye of Orik was nestled atop the podium. It needed to be returned to saintly control.

  "Ready or not," yelled Kyle, "here I come!"

  He slid down the same rope I'd used, hooked with his crossbow. I wondered why he'd abandon such a great sniper perch until crusaders stormed the breezeway behind him. They'd broken down the door. The knights paced the breezeway, afraid to follow on the zip line. The rope sagged under Kyle's weight, but it held. He was making a bee line to the deck. To Izzy and the soulstone.

  Behind him, the knights sliced the rope away from the wall. It went loose and Kyle careened to the ground, short of the platform by fifty feet. He took fall damage and scrambled to his feet as more crusaders converged on him.

  Shit. My eyes snapped back to the Eye of Orik. We were surrounded by an army. That was the only thing that could save us now. Still waiting for my skills to cooldown, I charged the
line of crusaders between me and the platform. Their swords pointed my way. I planted the spear and triggered vault. Flew right over their heads, their blades skimming a little too close for comfort, and landed on the deck. With a smooth roll, I shot to my feet and reached for the Eye of Orik.

  The red gemstone glimmered and twitched. All by itself, it lifted off the pillow and rushed past me. I twirled around to see it land in the grip of Bishop Tannen's glove.

  I froze in momentary panic. The gold cross atop the bishop's helmet glowed with shining light. Through the cross-shaped hole below, Tannen's eyes burned with rage.

  "And now," he announced with menace, "Stronghold witnesses the true power of the White King. I cannot be killed. I am the protector the city deserves. Not a simple scoundrel like yourself."

  I backed away on the platform. Kyle, unable to engage in close-range combat, was beaten and subdued by the army. Beside me, Izzy stirred awake, still bound and under guard.

  Tannen's nasally voice rang out. "There is only one way out of this, Talon." My eyes met his. "You will hand over the dragonspear and your mantle."

  "I won't."

  "Yes, you will. It is a burden for one such as yourself." The bishop stepped closer. "Look at what it's made you do. Perhaps you've attempted good works, but you've only been met with failure. Hand over the dragonspear and I promise: you'll be absolved of your crimes."

  I took another step away. I didn't get it. Cleric Vagram had shown amazing healing powers, but Bishop Tannen had been dead. I'd triple-checked the death notification. It was no trick, like Izzy's ice double. It was plain as day. I'd killed him. Yet here he stood.

  Bishop Tannen was invincible.

  "You're not getting the dragonspear," I growled.