That night, Pike conquered any apprehension among the men, any idea that they might have seen him as ‘The Machinist’ and an outsider.

Grunts. Grunts, it turned out, were universal.

The guards Pike at with, drank with, and arm-wrestled with were the same idiots he’d left behind, more or less. They talked the same way, dreaming of distant foods and girls they’d probably never see again, talking just to fill the space, really, to weave memories and stories of home in the air as the clamor and buzz of the mess hall surrounded them.

They also had the same idea of what to do with fresh meat. Pike found himself sat down at a table, dealt a hand of cards, and shown a variety of yellowed, happy grins from the rest of the players, already looking forward to taking his money. He examined his hand slowly; the cards were printed with fantastical beasts, seven-headed serpents and lions with stars tangled in their manes.

The game was a rather simple one, draw and discard until you made a matching set, trying to whittle your hand down to zero. They happily informed him he’d lost, and roared in disappointed when all he had were foreign coins.

As he ascended back up the stairs with Hesperid, a window blipped into existence.

Learn Skill - ‘Carousing’ ?

2/8 Slots Filled

Carousing - Improves social intuitions, storytelling, and alcohol tolerance.

He laughed drunkenly and dismissed it. As useful as ‘social intuitions’ might be, the rest was nonsense. With one slot taken up by the language skill he didn’t have any to spare on throwing wild parties. Mostly he was interested in trying to find his other Class Skills. Hesperid had informed him that most classes had four, but his was rare enough that it might have five.

Better yet, he was hoping to find an encyclopedia or a codex of known skills. The windows gave a suggestion of the base abilities, but that was like looking at the base of a tree. As the skill improved, it would branch and diversify, offering more and more options to be purchased with talent points.

They came to the door to his room. Hesperid disentangled her hands from his arm, slightly tipsy, watching her feet. He reached out and grabbed her hand.

Before he knew it they were kissing. Not passionate, purposeful kissing, but drunken, hedonistic, grab-ass kissing. The kind that had them stumbling against each other, bodies pressing up in interesting ways.

She pulled away first. He sighed, resting his hands on the wall to either side of her face, leering at her hopefully.

A hand delicately planted against his chest, slim fingers exploring the hard set of his muscles that were framed so nicely by the black scaled suit. “You need your rest, I think. Tomorrow you will be fighting for your life.”

“What did that kiss mean? That first one?” He pressed, leaning forward, cupping her face in one hand with his thumb on the delicate, high and haughty rise of her cheekbone. She nipped him, a bright little flash of teeth.

“It meant… Oh… That being in your mind all day is somewhat intimate, no?” Her eyes were refusing to meet his, so he let his gaze wander down her body. “We either fall for or learn to hate most of our clients. It is annoying.” She huffed. “It does not give us the best of reputations.”

“Uh huh. So what if I take you out somewhere, when I get back…” He stayed back, letting her hand gently suggest to him the precise distance she wanted him at, while his fingers cupped her chin.

“You know I can read your mind…”

He grinned, and thought something. She laughed, covering her blushing face, and pushed him away.

Waving to her, Pike stumbled into his bedroom and collapsed atop the sheets.

You have achieved a Breakthrough in Riding

(1) Free Talent to spend awarded

When he awoke, it was to the clank of armored feet, to the rattle of weapons. By the time he made it down the stairs the courtyard was full of men clambering into heavy armor, weapons being checked, mounts being harnessed.

A team of smiths surrounded a ‘war buggy’ - a three-wheeled vehicle that tapered to a narrow seat like a motorcycle at the front, and at the back expanded out to accommodate an enormous turret, a round dome with a pair of twinned guns that stuck out over the driver’s head. Pike winced as he realized the set-up would leave the pilot half-deafened with every shot fired by his gunner.

Hesperid met him on the balcony, silently wrapping her fingers around his and beginning to translate.

It was a storm of war-chants, orders, nervous chatter. As he made his way down, a team of archers called to him. They were lead by the very first person he had met, the eyeless elf who’d shot him and stolen his knife. She smirked as she saw him.

Pike groaned internally. It looked like he was riding with them. The fox growled in greeting as he strode up, nodding to the crew of archers. They looked at him with apprehension.

“Machinist. We’ll be your escort. You’re to stay out of trouble, and help us strip the machines afterwards. They have Knights and Sentinels, so we’ll be staying out of the action and letting our own machines lead.”

“Knights and Sentinels?” Pike asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Big armored men.” The elf rolled her eyes.

“Okay then, listen to me for a second. We got off on a wrong foot. I seem to recall you shooting me in the stomach for next to no reason. But we can get past that.” He stuck his hand out, shining his biggest, dumbest grin. “I’m Pike. What’s your name?”

“Jashal-” She said, scoffing as she casually reached for his hand.

And that was all she got to say before he let go of Hesperid, grabbed her wrist and judo-threw her over his shoulder to the ground.

“There! Now we’re even!” He declared as she rolled up onto her feet, the dust of the courtyard clinging to her rough, rustic clothes. The other archers openly laughed, turning her initial shock into a bloody-minded, furious glare.

And just as she was about to deck him, Hesperid stepped forward, laying her hand on the woman’s shoulder. The elf froze.

Pike knew exactly what his translator was saying, because he’d given her the message to deliver.

“You know that treasure horde you were hoping I’d lead you to? It exists. And you won’t ever see it unless you learn to play nice.”

Slowly, the anger slipped off Jashal’s face, replaced by a greedy cunning. No doubt she’d be planning to betray him the moment Hesperid let her go. But for now, she stuck her hand forward, shook his, and grinned. “Urha.”

He was betting that meant ‘Deal.’