A party of four stared the outlaw quartet down at the threshold of the cathedral door.

  The leader of the group held his shield lengthwise, forming a wedge that narrowed the functional exit space of the grand cathedral door significantly.

  Standing on Jorge’s right was…

  The team Scout. Perhaps he had recognized Calaf by name back in Autumn’s Redoubt after all. Had Gerard managed to track them across three regions? His face was implacable. What did he think about this confrontation in the church?

  The team spellcaster, and the only one matching Jorge’s sternness.

  What’s more, there was a fourth member:

  It was the first time Calaf had seen Sarah in some time. There were great bags under her eyes. It was clear her heart was not in this confrontation. If they had to talk their way out, she would be the most sympathetic voice.

  Just as the Squire had overtaken Deacon in levels and experience, so too had this party outleveled Calaf over the previous pilgrimage season.

  “Hello, there,” Jelena said nonchalantly.

  Outside, Port Town was dark. There was movement in the great courtyard in front of the cathedral; the arbitral auxiliaries were on patrol. But the cathedral was not under siege. Not yet, at any rate. It appeared the party was here of their own accord. A chance encounter, perhaps. Or perhaps Gerard had been tracking them this whole time.

  “You.” Jorge gritted his teeth. “Thief!”

  Jelena looked at the nominal lead of their pursuing party.

  “What? We’re but simple churchgoers visiting the cathedral in preparation for our conversion and Branding.”

  Jorge let out a mighty harrumph. He held his sword aloft, its point hovering at Jelena’s heart.

  Enkidu’s blade was hidden beneath his ill-fitting pilgrim’s outfit. He brandished it in turn. Jelena took two steps back, subtly reaching for her knives, likewise holstered on her hips. On the small of her back, hidden under her traveling shirt, was a flintlock. While the high-level attacking party would have staggering Endurance and defense (particularly Jorge, their tank), this ‘firearm’ as coined by Battletower scholars, was a weapon of shock and awe. Its round lead buckshot would sunder anything short of demon bone armor.

  Calaf instinctually took a step forward, standing between Jorge’s sword and Jelena. He was not expecting to test out this new kite shield so soon.

  The altercation had drawn the attention of everyone left in the cathedral.

  “Everyone. Everyone.” Deacon walked towards the doors, hands up. “Good arbiters. I say.”

  “Auxiliary,” came a quiet voice.

  Deacon stopped and held a hand to his ear. “What was that, my child?”

  Sarah shuffled about awkwardly. “We’re arbitral auxiliaries. Not actual arbiters.”

  “Well, my brave and faithful auxiliaries of the church. Is General Perarde here?”

  Flustered, Jorge shook his head.

  “Well, surely even varsity arbiters know that sanctuary rules apply to this most holy of churches.”

  Jorge and Isaac looked at each other.

  “S-sanctuary rules, your grace?”

  Deacon nodded. “Indeed. For a full hundred days, anyone may dwell on these grounds without risk of abduction or fear of being apprehended. Not a day more, but not a day less.”

  “Is that…” Jorge let out a tsk. “That’s not a …”

  “I was hoping you could bring it up with the Hammer of Faith. Surely such a long-time avatar of churchly virtue would be able to educate you on the protocol.”

  “This woman is an infamous heretic—” Jorge began.

  “Sacred rights of sanctuary make no mention of limitations for even heinous crimes.” Deacon stared the auxiliary arbiters down sternly. “It is open to all. Feel free to look the doctrine up in the church’s records, though, well, I suppose you would have to travel to Deepwood to consult the archives.”

  Jorge gave the bishop a piteous scowl. But after obvious internal debate, he put his gilded sword away.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Can we just go?” Sarah managed, exhausted.

  “Very well. We will wait outside.” Jorge said. “They can hardly wait in here forever.”

  Mercifully, Jorge barely addressed Calaf during the entire confrontation. The fellow Shielder may not even recognize Calaf any longer. Gerard, though, did give a knowing nod before turning to stand in the square outside the cathedral. Sarah failed to look at anyone at all, forlornly turning to leave only after the other three members of her party left.

  The Lockpick of the Scout remained safe (and hidden) in Zilara’s inventory. So long as they were not suspected of stealing from the reliquary, there’d be no reason to check the vault. No reason to suspect an act of thievery had occurred on this night unless Zilara pulled the item out for whatever reason.

  “Thank you,” Calaf said, feeling an uneasy malaise in his gut.

  He had to lie to Deacon again and maintain plausible deniability.

  “Anything to keep the peace in the main hall,” Deacon said with a glib grin. “In truth, I’ve heard tell of these auxiliary arbiters harassing the flock at smaller churches and wayshrines across the land. Accusing lay-folk of heresies and even dragging them out mid-sermon.”

  Calaf hadn’t heard of any of this. Why, that chance confrontation that nearly ruined the Autumn’s Redoubt heist was the first time he’d encountered these junior varsity arbiters. Since shacking up with Jelena, Calaf was, as they say, out of the loop.

  Outside, Jorge and company paced around in the town square. Calaf and Jelena wouldn’t be leaving out the front door.

  “Well, unless we want to run out the clock for three months here, we’ll need an alternate exit.” Jelena nudged her eyepatch into position. “Maybe we could run a rope across town from the belfry… or sneak out a monastery window… I happen to have a lot of experience sneaking out of monastery windows. Few nunneries to. Because of, y’know, reasons.”

  “Reservoir,” Calaf said. “That old entrance. We – ah, you – can leave through the aqueducts.”

  Jelena nodded. Her, Enkidu, and Zilara returned to the statuary hall.

  “Thanks again,” Calaf told Deacon.

  “No matter. I do believe the Cathedral at Port Town is still in both her and your debt after last season’s reservoir crisis.”

  “Right.”

  “Go ensure those unknown saviors get off cathedral grounds and out of harm's way. After all…” Deacon gave a knowing smile. “… I’m sure an upstanding Squire such as yourself simply can’t resist escorting a fair, unbranded maiden to safety.”

  Calaf resisted the urge to tell the Bishop that Jelena was no maiden and had not been even before her first pilgrimage. He wisely stopped himself and went back to the statue hall.

  He could hear the auxiliary arbiter corps’ drills wafting through high windows. They remained unawares of the wanted fugitives hiding in the church; the confrontation was entirely Jorge and company's doing.

  "As the Martyred Paladin lived and died, upholding honor and chivalry," barked a sergeant.

  "Defend the faith without hesitation," answered the common soldiers. "Slay enemies of the church without reservation."

  "As the holy priestess decreed, love and protect your neighbor..."

  "... cast utmost suspicion on outsiders. Maintain vigilant eyes on the unbranded foreigner."

  They were a force made of out-of-towners. It was obvious based on how they did not have a special place for the Scout in their mantras. While they did move on to an exultation to go explore the far-isles and Brand the natives under the Menu, they did not do so using direct scriptural accounts of the Scout's words.

  Calaf noted with no small amount of consternation that he could have wound up amidst the arbitral auxiliary. If he'd successfully apprehended Jelena. If the crusading action at Fort Duran had gone a little differently. It could be him out in the courtyard. He'd probably be Paladin by now, he happened to think as he walked by the martyred Roland's shrine. There was, technically speaking, no ideological component for ranking up. Any Squire who had the coveted key item, Fort Duran Rampart Rubble, could ascend to Paladinhood as a class at a shrine. Still, was Calaf even worthy at this point?

  The narrow wall behind the Cleric’s shrine was already disassembled, courtesy of Enkidu, when Calaf arrived.

  Once in the aqueducts escape was assured; they could pop out at any point in the city in a manner nigh impossible to track. And with that brief foray into the former thieves’ guild earlier in the day, Calaf was less daunted at the prospects of venturing through the tunnels.

  A pile of bricks sat on the floor, having been pushed in with a mighty kick.

  The sanctuary rule applied for fifty paces around any church or holy site’s exterior wall, if Calaf’s lessons from Riverglen were still applicable. It was a rule that upheld the spirit of sanctuary laws by preventing targets from being sniped with a crossbow through a window, or poked through the church doors with a spear. They would not be perturbed in this tunnel.

  “Hold on.” Calaf knelt down and scooped up the bricks into his Inventory. He pulled them back out one after another and painstakingly, manually stacked them back into place.

  When it was done, the cathedral and the aqueduct network were sealed off once more. The masonry was nothing to write home about. But it functioned as a wall.

  Enkidu had lost patience with the endeavor and escorted Zilara ahead. Jelena remained behind, having watched Calaf as he worked.

  “Look at you,” she said with a smile. “Still the gallant, upstanding do-gooder.”

  Calaf sighed. Yes, yes, she’d seduced an upstanding chivalrous Squire and was admiring him as he continued to do his good deeds despite bunking up with a known relic hunter.

  Still, Jelena appeared charmed at the act. She took Calaf’s hand and they took off through the newly-cleansed aqueduct.

  The group advanced some hundreds of paces, boots trudging through ankle-deep aqueduct water.

  "We tend to make a habit out of missing the rainy season," Jelena said as they walked. "Believe it or not, Metz had a whole upper catwalk system that could be assembled within an hour to keep everything high and dry. Doubt any of it survived the ol' arbiters. Still, kind of impressive, just, logistically."

  Already, the agility-based blessings of the Scout's Lockpicks paid dividends.

  "Someone comes," Calaf said.

  There were indeed footsteps rushing to meet them. Calaf and Zilara's souped-up hearing identified the exact tunnel the din was coming from a hair's breath before even Enkidu's superhuman ears tuned in. The group was able to meet their new assailants at a drained, wide-open reservoir of their choosing. When the attempted ambush occurred, Calaf was waiting, blocking their path with his brand new shield.

  "How'd they hear us coming?" came a voice from deep in the aqueducts.

  "Your armor clanking around could be heard from the other end of the city," answered Calaf.

  Though the channel beyond was lightless, relic-enhanced vision could quite clearly make out the silhouette of a Paladin in full armor and mage robes.

  "Where are the others?" Calaf asked.

  Rather than respond, the figure in the channel opened with a rush and a shield bash. Shield met shield. Stats and substats resolved themselves within the Interface, and the level delta proved insurmountable. Calaf was pushed back into the reservoir, landing on his back in a heel-deep carpet of water.

  Jorge and Isaac rushed into the chamber as Calaf struggled back to his feet. The former wore his full battle armor, including a helmet that offered only two narrow slits to see through.

  "Where are they!?" Jorge's voice boomed in his full varsity-arbiter armor.

  Immediately, it was obvious that Sarah had bowed out of this tunnel-crawling expedition. Gerard, too, was nowhere to be found. He may have lent his knowledge of the Port Town aqueducts and drainage tunnels to help the other half of the party plan their route, but he was yet-unwilling to help track Jelena and company through the maze.

  The reservoir - one of a half-dozen the posse had slunk and fought through the previous year. Stairs and multiple floors of drainage passageways came and went in all directions.

  "Looking for me?"

  Jelena stood on a far ledge, having claimed the high ground. Zilara peered out from a passageway behind her; they'd already picked their escape route. Enkidu, meanwhile, prowled along the high walkway, sword out.

  There was no doubt that Enkidu could just kill the two auxiliary arbiters and be done with it. He'd held his own against every full-ranked Arbiter they'd come across, after all. While they were high level now, and Jorge in particular too far gone to be reasoned with, Calaf still felt some responsibility for the low-level pilgrims he'd escorted so long ago. He made a hand signal behind his back, directed at Jelena, urging her to avoid open conflict.

  Even so, open conflict was upon them.

  Jorge cast a Paladin buff and then a spell, first increasing the party of two's defense then casting their weapons with a bright golden light. Holy damage infusion.

  "Have at thee!" said the Paladin.

  With twenty levels between them, there was little Calaf could do in a straight fight. So he'd just have to fight dirty. Fight like his girlfriend.

  Calaf knelt to pick up a clod of mud from the reservoir's floor. Normally part of an elaborate filtration system, now it would serve a different purpose. The Squire flung a clod of dirt at the higher-ranking knight. Mud covered Jorge’s helmet, and sunk into the narrow eye-slits.

  Blind! The status appeared in Jorge's Interface. He swung his sword in mighty arcs, missing everything but humid aqueduct air.

  Next up, Calaf rushed Isaac before he could conjure up a spell and let out a shield bash. Even with the twenty-level gap in experience, the bash sent the squishy mage down into the water.

  "Use lightning!" Jorge ordered, wiping muck off his helmet in vain.

  "It'll fry us all!" Isaac said, mouth gargling on water.

  Calaf ran up the stairs as fast as his new armor would allow.

  "Ah, out of smoke bombs," Jelena said from her perch. "But I do have a few more of these."

  The relic thief threw out a bundle of three small shells tied together in a net. The net unfurled as it reached the peak of the thrown arc. While this item had an Interface designation, Calaf instinctually looked away rather than dare try to read it.

  The trio of bomblets landed in the shallow water and immediately burst with a blinding flash and a deafening crackle. The cluster flash-bangs continued to light up the reservoir basin with delayed timer secondary explosions.

  The posse rushed out down a west-facing channel. Their pursuers were left with the Discombobulated status, preventing pursuit. Jorge was left in the unenviable position of being both Blinded by mud lingering in one eye and Discombobulated, ears ringing and head spinning.

  By the time either recovered, Calaf and Jelena's group would be untraceable without the aid of a master Scout. The web of sewers and aqueducts running through and under Port Town served as a labyrinth to both get lost within… and to disappear, if you knew where to hide.

  The posse emerged on the far side of Port Town near a west-facing gate. No further pursuit was detected.

  “Pity all the thieves’ guild stashes got wiped out in the cleanse,” Jelena said. “Could’ve used some more spoofing rings or smoke bombs.”

  A handful of generalist merchant emporiums catered to incoming and outgoing pilgrims. In the off-season, they would be desperate for business—and notably closing soon with evening winding down.

  “If anyone needs any last-minute supplies you should get them now,” Calaf said.

  “Heh.” Zilara grinned cheekily. “Already got equipped while you were out replacing your armor.”

  Jelena cocked her head. “Why did you have to replace the old set anyway? I thought you looked quite fetching in desert armor.”

  The Piper-induced brain fog had yet to abate. She hadn’t even noticed that the armor was rent, ruined in battle while she sleepwalked. Calaf grimaced, wondering how long his beloved’s cognition would be altered, and what lasting effects being a demon’s thrall would entail.

  “Well, the whole Paladin getup is fetching enough as well.” Jelena looped her arm through Calaf’s. She leaned in and whispered. “Just promise we’ll find the time to do it without unequipping the armor sometime, okay?”

  Zilara scrunched her face up and looked away. Evidently, Jelena’s whisper was too loud.

  “Anyway,” said the holy brat. “I’ve got a whole bevy of spells that ought to help. Skimped on lockpicks, but we’ve got an unbreakable one now.”

  Accentuating the point, Zilara summoned forth their bounty from the cathedral heist:

  The bonus to perception and stealth had proven invaluable during the last pilgrimage season. Calaf had acquired the relic during his hunt for some relic thieves. By happenstance, the relic helped defense-minded Calaf identify traps and engage in stealth well beyond anything a Stalwart-class could otherwise hope to utilize.

  Now it was back in their possession. The +5 bonuses already appeared on Calaf’s menu, though it would not factor into any level-up stat calculations.

  Ye Olde Docks awaited – a silted-up borough full of traps and rife with ambush points. This was the patron stomping grounds of Scouts, which their posse notably was running short of. But the Scout’s scribblings pointed to treasure or somesuch deep in the old, forgotten district. While it was a high-risk proposition, the dungeons promised a trove of high-tier loot even discounting any hidden treasure vaults left by the Scout.

  The quartet walked out of the west gate, following Calaf’s lead as he traced his steps to the entrance of the region’s major dungeon.