(I) Deception

- (Essential Reading for Agents of Aviary, New Albion)45 (I)

Deception

Name: Tanner “Shiv” Lowe

Age: 18

Race: Human

Path:

Deathless

Feats : He Who Rises From Ash Eternal (Unique) - Allows the Pathbearer to quickly learn new Skills and advance existing Skills through repeated deaths.

Reserve

Master of Rage (Master) - Allows the Pathbearer to infuse a skill with rage to increase its effectiveness. Consumes the Pathbearer’s anger.

Skills:

Knife Proficiency 38 (Initiate)

Grappling Proficiency 50 (Initiate)

Stealth 32 (Initiate)

Marksmanship 11 (Common)

Baking 9 (Common)

Striking Proficiency 28 (Initiate)

Barter 10 (Common)

Alchemy 2 (Common)

Acting 11 (Common)

Engineering 1 (Common)

Pyromancy 9 (Initiate)

Spear Proficiency 10 (Initiate)

Parry 41 (Initiate)

Awareness 10 (Initiate)

Disease Resistance 8 (Initiate)

Practical Metabiology 13 (Initiate)

Psychomancy 8 (Initiate)

Might of Mass 94 (Adept)

Foreshadowing 23 (Adept)

Dread Aura 61 (Adept)

Silver Tongue 5 (Adept)

Adamantine Adaption 106 (Master)

Momentum Core 74 (Master)

Woundeater 52 (Master)

The Chef Unwavering 51 (Master)

Vitality Drain 18 (Legendary)

Revenant 10 (Unique)

Blessings:

Song of the Vigilant - Allows the Pathbearer to maintain absolute focus while the song is active. The song will expand out from the Pathbearer as a web and form a Resonant Perimeter.

Curses:

Favored Archenemy - An orc will always be able to sense your presence, regardless of guise or appearance. An orc will always have a sense for where you are. Regardless of dimension, world, distance, or time, you are marked for an eternal war.

Shiv finished re-examining his own status as he waited for the Gate Lord to arrive. Oldsmith’s somewhat repaired office was quiet at that moment, aside from the ticking of a clock and the presence of four Pathbearers standing around a corpse. One of Shiv’s corpses.

Then, Shiv let out an exaggerated breath and loudly proclaimed the pride he had for his own growth. “Yeah, you know what, Heather? I don’t think I’ve done too badly for myself. I mean, I might not have gone to a nice academy or even had any actual parents, but achieving four Master-Tier Skills in around two or so weeks is respectable growth, right?”

“Stop, please,” Heather moaned. She was finally wearing the Shroud of Unyielding Jade at Shiv’s insistence, and her face was turning as green as the armor. “Shiv, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for abandoning you—after you saved us. I’m sorry we tried to escape without you. I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you for all those years. I’m sorry about my existence. So stop telling me about your skills. I’m—I want to throw up.”

Shiv nodded, and his Perfect Semblance gave off a series of mechanical noises. That was the annoying thing about pretending to be a bot. Even a humanoid bot. Most organics moved differently from machines, and the way Shiv moved meant his illusory joints and limbs whined every few seconds. Most automata were capable of holding perfectly still. Perfectly. Shiv didn’t have that kind of stillness, mainly because he still needed to breathe every now and again.

“Still, Shiv. Two feats. Four Master Skills.” Tran shook his head in utter disbelief. “This is beyond monstrous. Even a genius takes… years? Decades to get to Master. Most people get stuck at Adept. I’ve been an Adept for ten years.”

“Ten?” Shiv breathed, blinking. “Really? You have?”

Tran looked borderline offended. “What you’re doing isn’t really normal. And I mean that about more than the part where you can come back from the dead. Your skill growth is terrifying. And the way you casually mutilate your own body for parts is… Shiv, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah. Like I said, Tran, the Orcish Skill has been fused. I don’t feel the rage anymore.”

Tran winced. “No, not that. Are you traumatized at all? Does dying and getting hurt not bother you?”

Shiv was very tired of having this same conversation with a bunch of different people. “Tran. If getting killed and hurt spiked your skills really fast, would you do it?”

“I… Maybe?” Tran said, sounding genuinely uncertain. “That’s just the thing, Shiv. Even if I did have your ability to resurrect, I don’t think I would come back after dying just fine. I don’t think I would casually open my own throat or… or use my bones for armor.” The Slayer looked at the corpse and then back at the actual Shiv—still alive and in disguise. “This doesn’t bother you at all? Just using your bodies?”

“No,” Shiv said, tone flat and certain. “I get stuff from the bodies. They’re pretty useful for a variety of things, and I didn’t grow up being wasteful. A wasteful street rat was a dead one. But you know that about me. Better than most.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Tran bit his lip. The Slayer felt bad about trying to flee and leaving Shiv in the penthouse to work out his issues alone. On a logical level, Shiv could kind of get it. He'd been rapidly devolving into a violent rage monster that neither of the Slayers could stop. His last interaction with Tran before he exiled himself to the kitchen danced on the borders of violence. Pair that with all of them being petrified by his very presence, and yeah, he could see why they took that chance to run.

Not so rationally, they were all cowardly rat bastards, and he would never let them forget that. Shiv eyed the sword that was currently hanging from Tran’s hip. “Hey, Tran?”

“Yeah?” Tran said nervously. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ N0veI.Fiɾe.net

“Tell me again why you left the sword and why Heather left the armor when you guys tried to run earlier. I want to laugh again.”

Tran looked like he wanted to run himself through with the sword. Heather looked like she wanted to wrestle the sword away from him and do herself in first. “Shiv, come on, man,” Tran said.

“Tran. I want to laugh.” Shiv’s declaration was final.

The Slayer gave a miserable sigh. “We were afraid that since you thought those items were valuable, there might’ve been a chance of you coming after us at some point if we took them with us. Out of revenge.”

“We… also felt bad,” Heather added, trying to make their motivations seem more sympathetic.

Shiv laughed. It was the fakest laugh in the world. It was so fake that Shiv briefly worried the System might take away one of his Acting levels in retribution. “Ah. Classic. Another great bit in our relationship. Right next to you spying on me for Roland Arrow. And right after I rescued you two from torture and healed all your wounds! Hahahaha!”

Siggy, who was assigned to guard the door, started laughing with him out of raw sycophancy. Poor idiot didn’t even notice he was doing it sarcastically.

“I’m sorry,” Tran croaked. The man’s expression was one of pure self-loathing and regret. And being able to do that to him and Heather brought Shiv no small amount of joy.

“But that’s okay, Tran,” Shiv said, sighing. “I you. You more than Heather because it was her idea. But I forgive you both because I am just so, great and powerful. Because it's just what Master Pathbearers do.” He sighed again, even deeper this time. “Real Masters. The ones with four Master-Tier Skills. And two Feats.” As Shiv watched both Heather, Tran, and even Siggy shudder in absolute disgust, he chuckled genuinely this time.

“But… you can’t slot the second Feat yet, right?” Siggy asked.

“Oh, right,” Shiv said, remembering that he wanted to ask someone that question earlier. “How the hells does someone get another Feat Slot?”

“Five,” Heather breathed. It sounded like every breath she took caused her pain. “Five Master-Tier Skills. Or two Heroic.”

“One Legendary-Tier can work too,” Tran added. “But I think that was obvious.”

“Oh,” Shiv said, developing a beaming smile as he looked at his Might of Mass. “Well. Ask me again in about a week or less, Siggy. If you’re still alive by then, I might just have two functional Feats.”

“Absolute monster,” Heather choked.

“Right. And never forget it, Heather.” Shiv grinned. Then, the smile vanished from his face as he felt a powerful presence enter the building. A second Biomancy field crashed against his own mana. It was larger than his by a bit, and the nature of the other field felt a little different—like it was more layered than his was, but also weaker on some level. And then Shiv sensed an presence entering his Biomancy field. Shiv recognized it as the Gate Lord in an instant.

No one else was that impermeable.

He looked at the others in the office and rolled his shoulders. “Alright, Inquisitors. Confriga is on the way up. And he’s got… maybe eight other people with him. One Master Biomancer as well. I expect they’ll have a Psychomancer too, but I’ll keep an eye on them. It won’t be wise for them to try to scan the mind of an Inquisitor regardless. That’d bring . But keep your damn helmets on, even if you're sure nobody saw your faces during your little . We don't need one of Confriga’s underlings recognizing you.”

Heather and Tran grimaced before slotting down their visors. Neither looked overly pleased to play the part of the ones who were torturing them earlier, but they put up with it. Especially since their failed attempt at an escape got them demoted from co-conspirators to minions. Now, the only person beneath them on the totem pole was Siggy, who assumed the vaunted position of expendable henchman.

Speaking of which… “Siggy,” Shiv said. The goblin Pathbearer nearly leaped out of her skin. “Go tell Mira to get ready. And make sure she doesn’t snort anymore of that stuff. It’s bad for her. I felt it in her blood when I came in. We can’t be greeting the Gate Lord with a drugged out secretary.”

Siggy nodded vigorously. “Yeah, sure, boss. She’s just stressed out because… you know.”

“Because she was one of the many people I threatened with violence during my orc-tainted rampage?”

“Yeah.”

“I still kind of feel bad about that,” Shiv said. “I’ll leave her some money or something, I guess. Explain things to her if this whole thing works out. Just tell her to get ready and pretend she isn’t scared.” He grunted. “I still can’t believe there aren’t any other employees. I thought the reason why there weren't any people here was because of the lockdown I caused keeping them somewhere else. No, I guess this consulate is just running a skeleton crew.”

So much of a skeleton crew that Shiv found Mira still trapped in the same rebar binds he left her in after two whole days. Thankfully, even someone with Initiate Physicality could go a few days to a week without water. That didn’t mean it was healthy for her.

“Shiv,” Heather said. She sounded a bit apprehensive, like she wasn’t sure about the question she was going to ask.

“Just spit it out,” Shiv replied.

Heather turned slightly to Tran before speaking further. “So. Well. I’m definitely not criticizing your plan, and I'm not saying it’ll go bad, but, like, what if this thing goes bad? What if their Psychomancer does try reaching into one of our minds? Or if one of them has Foreshadowing too.”

Shiv clenched his teeth. He had not considered that. He probably should have, seeing how he'd run into that exact problem once before already. The automaton assassin pretending to be a member of the Arachnae Order had the Foreshadowing Skill as well. From what Shiv understood, it was a very rare skill for non-Diviners to have, but Confriga probably had a Diviner in employ. And a small army of other specialized Pathbearers to support him.

Such were Shiv’s sage thoughts after considering the problem for a few moments.

What Shiv required was more information. Or a chance to catch the Gate Lord off guard. Maybe if he could hit the bastard when he was resting or without his armor, there was a better chance. Frankly, Shiv was even considering figuring out how to use the Animancy Core on the Gate Lord—but he didn’t have the first clue on how to do that, either. No clue about Animancy, no clue about how this place worked, no clue about much at all, actually.

Confriga was now exiting the elevator. And there were about eight others with him. Shiv coughed. “Tran. Heather. You know I’m mostly making shit up as I go along, right?”

“I kind of got the feeling,” Heather replied, sounding more than a little worried. “I still think we should focus on escaping rather than fighting this Gate Lord. There are only three of us against…”

“Siggy, how many people does Confriga have?” Shiv asked.

The goblin blinked twice. “I—I don’t know, I was just a merc, man. They don’t tell us this type of shit.”

Shiv looked at Heather and nodded. “We don’t know. We’ll find out. One way or another. And really, ‘we’ should focus on escaping? There’s a ‘we,’ now? And how’d it work out for you last time?”

“Last time, I was—I understand the mechanics of this dimension now. I can probably open it this time. I had to jump us out because the guards came for us. We weren’t strong enough to fight them. But you—”

“Will probably end up dead after running into a few groups of magi or a trained Master in a lore I don't understand. I don’t have any Magical Resistance, guys. Physical damage I can probably soak all day. With the mask, I can comfortably ignore most mind mages beneath Master. But I’m sure Confriga has more than a few Biomancers under him. Enough to strain my field and pull me apart if some other Master doesn’t find a way to kill me first. When I die, I’ll lose my mask’s protection, and they’ll smash through my meager Psychomancy and make a vegetable of me.”

Shiv’s summation of events left Heather and Tran silent. “I might be making this stuff up and planning by instinct, but I’m not stupid. Or delusional. Or desperate. I think you and Tran are the latter, Heather. I think you guys want out of here and will take the chance to run the first opportunity you get. I want you to understand that I don’t think that’s possible until we deal with the Gate Lord somehow. This is the best play I can think of, and I don’t trust either of you anymore after what you pulled. Just stating this openly before whatever’s about to happen so you can get your heads on straight.”

Shiv rolled his neck. Confriga was in the consulate, striding past Mira. At the speed the Gate Lord was going, he didn’t even stop to check in with the secretary. Or greet her.

Shiv thought.

“But if things go wrong, just run,” Shiv said as a final statement. Heather and Tran looked at him. “You’re two traumatized Adepts who don’t want to be here, and my Momentum Core really doesn’t care about collateral damage.” Tran swallowed. Heather paled. “Yeah. That’s probably appropriate. Now, try to be imposing. Who knows. This might just turn out better than we think.”

A few seconds after Shiv finished saying those words, Lesser Marshal Confriga practically smashed through the front door with a small entourage in tow. It was a good thing the room had sound-suppressing wards. Shiv found himself suppressing a smile when he took in the enemy. Eight biological people with Confriga exactly—plus an automaton. Shiv’s Woundeater field covered practically the entire building and didn’t lack for detail when he focused. A pretty cool Master-Tier Evolution. Pretty good indeed.

“Where is he?” Confriga snarled. “Where is that