Stepping Wild (Dungeon Runner 04)

The woman sneaking through the alley wasn't horrible. Tibs only had to prevent one guard from coming across her, and it wasn't because she made a mistake, but on account of the guard breaking off from his team to take a piss. If Tibs hadn't caused a disturbance in the opposite direction, he'd have been putting himself away as she walked by.

She, and her little group, had learned the guard routes and moved about unnoticed. They couldn't move as freely as he could, but all they did was sneak to the meeting place at the back of the tailor's shop.

"Did you hear what the Roamer did this time?" a man whispered as Tibs entered unnoticed through a narrow window, opened to air the room out. "Her helped Joan escape capture."

"Stole the armor off a guard's back," another man added.

"No. Just took their sword," the first one countered.

"He had them chasing each other, instead of him," a woman said. "One of them ended up in his underclothes and he's going to be trialed tomorrow as the Roamer's helper."

This was why Tibs didn't understand bards' need to change stories. Those had already changed by the time they heard them. People were unable to tell a story the same way twice, which meant that by the time it went around a neighborhood, The Nimble Roamer, keeping guards from arresting a woman on her way to return the extra shirt she'd noticed in her purchase to the merchant, by leading them on a merry chase through alleys, had evolved into dozen different stories, none of which had elements of what actually happened.

He lowered himself from the rafters without being noticed, as the woman he'd followed stepped into the room.

"Any trouble?" a third man asked.

"They're sticking to the patrols," she replied.

"How long is that going to last?" the other woman asked. She, and two of the men, were seated at a table. "I heard a guard talk about them putting more people on the street to catch that Roamer fellow."

"Like that's going to do them any good," the one leaning against the wall said. He was the one who'd said the guard had lost his armor.

Tibs hadn't learned who these people were. They weren't his team. They were just a group of people taking advantage of the chaos the Nimble Roamer was causing and hoping to improve the lives of themselves and those around them.

"More guards mean new routes." The man who'd started the story said. "We're going to have to map them again. It's going to be—"

"We'll deal with that if it happens," the woman said. "Until then, we have work to do. Amien?"

He'd worked out she was their leader.

"The rumblings are real," the other man at the table said. "A lot of the guardhouses have had their pay drop."

"Did you find out why?" the other woman asked.

"The stories change," he answered, "but the most consistent one is that it's because they couldn't catch the Roamer. The city considers it an incentive for them to work harder."

"What about the criers proclaiming it was the Roamer's work?" the man against the wall asked.

"What do you expect the city to say?" the other man at the table said dismissively.

"Like I said. The stories aren't consistent. Neither are the results. In some areas, they're slacking off because of it. In others, they're putting more effort into finding him, so their pay will go back to what it was."

"How can we take advantage of that unrest?" their leader asked.

"I don't know," the other woman said. "Without being sure why it's happening. We don't know how long it'll last. If the Roamer's behind it, once he's caught, everything will go back as before."

The man against the wall snorted. "You really think they'll catch him?"

"This isn't a song, Stephen. He isn't here to make things better. He's just some troublemaker with flair having fun."

Tibs resisted the urge to make himself known with that.

He wasn't here to perform, or at least, not much. He was here to learn what they were planning and how he could help them.

"More reasons to act now if we can," their leader said. "Can some of the guards be convinced to help, Amien? Just a few of them helping will make it easier to move the people the city's looking for out."

"Getting a few of them out isn't doing anyone any good," the first man said, annoyed. "We need to bring the city down. That means weapons, armor and a way into the home of the council. Can your guards get us that?"

"No, and even if they could," Amien replied. "All that would do is get the other guards to hunt us down. The five of us can't topple the people in charge, and those we need to get out are already in enough trouble."

"Why are they in such danger?" Tibs asked, stepping to the edge of their light so his colorful clothing could be seen. This was the first he'd heard of specific people being targeted. If this group was hiding them, his opinion of their capability went up. In the weeks he'd followed each of them, he had seen no sign of that.

They were up and away. The only one to arm himself, with a knife, was the one advising they take up arms. He was the rougher looking of the group.

Tibs bowed. "Please forgive my intrusion, but in a city such as this, a group working against those in power couldn't escape my attention."

Their leader pushed the knife down. "What do you want?"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I would start with information. Unlike what some among you think, I am no mere troublemaker. I have a goal. I am interested to know if yours aligns with it."

"And if it doesn't?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I will endeavor not to get in your way, and hope you will offer me the same courtesy."

"What are you after?" the knife holder demanded.

Tibs smiled, not that they could see much with the shadows his hood added to the low light. "Let us say that I seek to change things and see where that takes us."

"Change them how?" their leader asked.

"Why are certain people targeted?" he countered.

They exchanged looks of varying lever of suspicion. Finally, she spoke. "Well before you showed up, people have been trying to change things. Trying to get everyone to work together so they could force the city to change how things are done. They had a lot of people, that first time they gathered before the city offices, demanding to be heard."

"None of them have been seen since," Stephen said.

"Endangering the city's wellbeing," the knife holder spat.

"There haven't been open demonstrations since," their leader continued, "but many of those gathering to orchestrate protests were discovered, and those people also vanished."

"They were taken just for wanting things to change?" Tibs asked.

"For having plans to make it happen," She answered. She looked at the knife holder. "They weren't planning a revolt, or to storm houses. They were planning protests that would show the city it needs us just as much as we need it. They were the clever ones."

"Which means," Amien said, "all you have left now, are people like us."

"People looking to protect those who are in danger," Tibs pointed out.

The man shrugged. "What else are we going to do without smarts?"

"Those people seeking to escape?" Tibs asked. "If they have better resources, ways to plan and act without being caught. Do you think they'd fight for the people here? Or would they still want to flee?"

"No one smart wants to stay here," the knife holder said.

The other woman looked uncertain before speaking. "I think he'd stay."

Tibs caught the emphasis.

"And you prove my point."

Their leader studied him, eyes filled with suspicion. "You're going to want to meet them, aren't you? To make sure they're the right kind of people to help."

"No. All that would do is put everyone at risk. I'm not looking to take over; this city or this group. I'm only seeking to help, since our goals do align."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" the knife holder asked defiantly.

"It might surprise you to learn," he said, acting bashful, "that I have accumulated a significant sum of money since arriving. I am also skilled at getting into places, as well as making a nuisance of myself."

"And you're willing to give us some of that money?" the leader asked, hope fighting with suspicion. "To work with us?"

"Yes, to the money. Working with you is more…fluid. Our goals might align, but they are not the same. I will also not remain here. My schedule is my own," he added before she asked. "But while I am here, I am willing to help you achieve your goals. Please pass along that information to those who can make use of it."

"How do I let you know what they decide?"

"You can tell me next time we meet." He stepped back into the shadows. "I know how to find you, after all." He wrapped himself in an etching of Darkness and was in the rafters before the man with the knife had the lantern in hand and stood where Tibs had been. He raised it, looking into the rafters, but by then Tibs was against the wall and all moving the light did was move the shadows about, not remove them.

"We need to go," he said.

"I don't think he's going to betray us," their leader said. "He'd have brought the guards if that was his plan."

"I'm with Rulan," Amien said. "We leave and find a different place for the next meeting."

"And you have one?" she asked.

"Maybe we should end the meeting," the other woman said. "And think about what he said. We definitely need the help, but he said that it depends on what he'll do."

"He didn't mean him specifically," Stephen said.

"Who else is going to take him up on the help?" she countered.

Tibs felt the tension rise.

"Alright," their leader said. "Pass the information along and he can decide what happens."

"About the next meeting?" Amien asked.

She looked into the shadows. "He said he knows how to find us. He can let us know and we'll figure something out then."

They left, one by one, the leader last.

She looked worried, lifting the chimney off the lantern, eyes on the shadows, before snuffing the light out and leaving.

He stayed in the rafters, thinking over what he'd learned.

Someone with a plan was better than hoping his chaos would end up helping the cityfolks.

When he left, it was by the window he'd entered.

Hopefully, this would speed things up.

* * * * *

Tibs nearly decided against his performance when he sensed the muddled essence in the crowd. He was already closer than he'd like to her, since by its nature, the green stone's effect was difficult to notice until close by. Unlike what he'd expected, she wasn't shopping. She stood with guards looking over the plaza.

Chance that she was where he planned on this performance? And planned on bringing the people here into it? Or did she have other magic items that clued her in? Her teacher maybe?

He grabbed the hem of the well-appointed cloak, its hood up, that covered his performance clothing. Regardless of her presence, he had a show to put on. With a spin, he pulled it off and sent it in the air, along with silver coin and an etching of air to disperse them.

"Today is a good day to enjoy life!" he yelled with a laugh. "Take what the elements rain down on you and improve your day, your life, that of your fellow citizens!"

People hurried away from him, looking scared, then perplexed as they noticed what fell on them.

He threw another handful. "Silver is always good to raise the spirits. Get your special someone something that will make them smile. That will make them remember there are good days, along with trying ones."

The guards yelled. For people to move away. For them to drop the coins. For them to go home. For them to do what they were told.

"Remember," Tibs yelled over theirs voices, turning for an alley. "You decide how good your lives are." He ran around people scrambling for coins, while cries of distress accompanied the guards' movement.

He jumped to the roof as soon as a second turn took him fully out of sight of anyone in the plaza. He sensed the guards enter the alley, make the turn, and run past where he was. They'd run themselves to exhaustion looking for him. They were too reliant on the people watching the roofs keeping anyone from running them, but he'd picked this plaza because the varying height of the building blocked this roof from the watchers' sight.

He turned to run, and stopped.

A look over his shoulder showed him a hand grabbing the edge, three roofs over. A second joined it, and he focussed on the muddled sense of the girl pulling herself up. Vibrant copper hair became visible as she reached for a further handhold. A leg went over the edge, and she rolled herself onto the roof, immediately getting to her feet, looking around. She grinned at seeing him.

She pointed and said something that didn't carry. Something to the effect of having outsmarted him, he expected. But the only reason she'd thought to check the roof was that she couldn't know about the watchers.

Now was a good time to introduce her to them.

He ran for the closest watch post, making her work to keep up. She managed that with the ease of someone used to chasing people; or being chased. And he wondered how much of either had happened and why. Did her teacher have her do all the work and taking the credit? Had she had to run for her life on the Street as he had? She didn't seem Street, but maybe she'd been taken out of it and had been taught to act differently.

Jumping, however, was not her strength; not with all that metal in her armor.

He even had to keep her from falling once, the muddling of his essence from the stone causing his attempt to grab the metal in her armor to slip uselessly, so he had to resort to an etching of Air behind her to shove her forward.

She didn't take the time to marvel at not dying, and picked up the chase, right into the line of sight of the guards Tibs had avoided. They jumped out and caught her. Tibs grinned at her as she struggled and argued. He waved as she pointed in his direction, and gave a bow before the guards turned, then hide behind the chimney.

That would take care of her.