The Legend of William Oh

Dispose of him.

• A note wrapped around a windrider’s ankle.

“Say it right.” Will said, prompting Loth to prod their priest with something sharp.

“Gods, I’ll say it-“ Steve was interrupted by a hacking cough. “I can barely see. How are people supposed to hold this pipe without cutting themselv-ow!”

After another poke, he caught his breath and read the script.

“I will tell the truth to William Oh’s party. I will not attack, abandon, nor endeavor to mislead them into danger. I will not deceive them with half-truths or misrepresented facts. I will support them to the best of my ability, and guide them to my most monetarily valuable assets that I have hidden away. I will allow them to leverage these assets.

“In return, William Oh’s Party will refrain from killing Steve, and leverage his assets with the express purpose of paying his Corpse Fine. We will attempt to pay this fine in a timely manner, and only kill Steve should we be blatantly unlikely to succeed at raising the capital required within thirty days.”

“Should my assets not prove to be valuable enough, I will – do I have to say this part?-

“Yes.”

“Should my assets not prove valuable enough, I will willingly submit myself to death at the hands of William Oh’s Party.”

“I agree to these terms.” Will said, a tendril of smoke escaping from his mouth, the words drawn involuntarily out of him by the Ability.

“I agree to these terms.” Steve said, his face contorted into a deep scowl.

The two streams of smoke mingled in the air before returning to them, sealing the contract.

The twelfth one.

(6) Contracts active!

“There,” Will said, standing. “Now, if you break the contract, you will literally keel over and die.”

“Thanks for that…” Steve said sourly.

They’d had Steve agree to the exact same thing twelve times as soon as Will had realized that a person could have more than one contract active.

Meanwhile, Will had only agreed to not kill Steve six times, as had Loth.

So they wouldn’t die if they tried to kill him prematurely, but they definitely wouldn’t succeed, losing more than half their stats.

“You could’ve told me you were William Oh,” Steve said pouting.

“I didn’t think it was important,” Will said, motioning for their priest to lead them to his stash.

“Ugh, fine.” Steve said, turning and walking away.

“He seems quite petulant when driven into a corner.” Loth said, falling into step behind the priest

“I heard that!” Steve said, glaring back at them.

“Yes, you did.” Loth said with a shrug.

A few hours later, Steve stopped at a nondescript cliffside, kicked over a rock and found a coin.

“We’re here.” He said.

“Where is here?” Will asked, glancing around the rocky hillside.

“This is where I incurred most of my Debt, abandoning a group of noblesons, covered head-to-toe in expensive relics bought and paid for by Daddy Dearest.”

Will’s brow raised.

“And their gear is your stash?”

“Their gear is the icing on the cake,” Steve said. “Metaphorically.” He hastily corrected.

“Well, you’re not dead, so it seems like the contract to tell the truth is more intent-based than literal.” Loth said. “Which is good for our purposes.”

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Will narrowed his eyes. “Less wiggle room for you. Plus you still get to complain.”

Steve grunted, peering over the edge.

“The ‘cake’ in this instance is a route down through the side of the mountain that leads to a Spawning Ground. One that isn’t on anyone’s map.”

“Yetis. Lots of ‘em. Enough to surround and kill a party of half a dozen over-equipped noobs. They had fancy gear, but they were stupid as hell, bickering, fraternizing, treating me like a porter and chef, as if The Tower was a leisure walk.”

He glanced up at Will and Loth. “I think you two would fare much better than a bunch of noobs did, and since you don’t have to share the spot with others, fifteen thousand gold is only a matter of time. Maybe two weeks? After we pay off my Corpse Fine, we could get rich down there in a matter months.”

“Do we look like we’re not noobs?” Will asked, gesturing between the two of them.

“You guys…are level thirty-ish, right? Late twenties? Gearing up for the 6th Floor…At least?” Steve asked, his voice becoming faint at their expressions.

“Join our party.” Will said.

Grumbling, Steve did so.

Steve Holland

Itinerant Charlatan Level 35

Strength 35

Kinesthetics 35

Resistance 105

Focus 105

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Acuity 70

Charges: 5/105

Free Points:

Primary Abilities: Smooth Talker, Wandering Feet

Secondary Abilities: Blessing of Andover, Confusion

Tertiary Ability: Feign Death

“You’re level EIGHT!?” Steve exclaimed. “How are your stats so high!? You don’t have a counterspell ability at all, so how…” The priest clapped his hand over his mouth until he could regain his composure.

He cleared his throat, shifting in place, his posture and tone becoming instantly obsequious.

“None of us are even close to full on Charge, so I diligently recommend that we return to Skyhold for a week of rest and attempt the descent while topped off, Milord.”

Steve gave a flowery bow.

“And if you wish to continue to employ me after all is said and done, I charge a very modest fee of one percent.”

Will was tempted to laugh in Steve’s face at the sheer speed of Steve’s attitude change, but his paranoia was beginning to cry bloody murder.

“Explain your thought process just now, in full.” Will demanded. Steve was contractually obligated to tell the truth, in full, or die, and Will was more than willing to take advantage of it.

“I think you’re going to be a very successful Climber, and I want to benefit by association.” Steve admitted.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’re earning three extra stat points per level! and…I’m assuming you’ve been using that Phantom Hand effectively as a Counterspell, with no Charge cost? That’s how you countered my Confusion Ability… That ability is…”

Steve shook his head. “Climbers would give a lot more than a hand for that. You’re going to be a Lord, William Oh, as long as another Lord doesn’t find you first.”

Will frowned.

“What do you mean about another Lord finding me?”

“Well…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “New Lords are very rare.”

“Right,” Will said, nodding along.

“There’s no direct evidence for this, but believe me, I’ve been hanging around the first five floors for a long time,” Steve said. “And promising noobs are always disappearing or dying. Especially ones without the backing of a powerful family. You’d think talented Climbers would die less often than untalented ones, because, ya know, talent, but for some reason being exceptional is exceptionally hazardous.”

“Now, I know people, and it would not surprise me one bit if Lords have their Vassals stationed on the lower Floors, keeping an eye out for ‘talent’.

Steve made a ‘snatching’ motion.

“They drag these talented young men and women up to their Stronghold and force them to agree to become their Vassals, effectively ending any possibility of Lordship. Or kill them.”

“Or at least, that’s my theory.” Steve said with a shrug.

“You can just force someone to become a Vassal?” Will asked.

Steve glanced down at Will’s tomahawk, which they’d just used to force a somewhat lopsided arrangement with the Healer.

“Point taken,” Will said.

“The Tower is very…loose about ‘fairness’.” Steve said, waggling his hand. “Anyway, once you become a Vassal, that’s it. You can switch Lords under the right circumstances, but you can never become one yourself.”

“What do you get from being a Lord?” Will asked.

“Other than land and money…I’m not sure.” Steve said with a shrug. “They’re not exactly the sharing type, and I don’t know any of them personally, either.”

“I can however, make a few guesses.” Steve said. “It’s thought that the Lordship system was meant to propel a select few up to the top of the Tower, by gathering the powerful beneath them and focusing that power into individuals who can then punch above their weight class and tackle and claim the upper floors, with a solid supply chain behind them.”

“This is supported by the fact that the most powerful Lords seem to have the most Vassals. Although whether this is because more people are attracted to the powerful, or because more Vassals equates to more power…nobody knows for sure, except the Lords, and again…they’re not telling.

“Huh.” Will grunted.

“Anway, as long as you haven’t caught the attention of a Lord or their Vassals, you should be fine…you should probably quit with those rumors about you that’ve been going around the taverns and stuff, though.”

“I couldn’t stop that if I wanted to at this point,” Will said. “It’s taken on a life of its own.”

Will thought for a moment about what question he should ask next, given that Steve was sworn to assist them faithfully for the next month.

“Hey, Steve.” Will asked as they were heading back to Skyhold. “Hypothetically, what if I was kidnapped earlier by four high level veterans and just barely managed to escape by the skin of my teeth?”

“Oh, well then you would want to lay really freakin’ low, because their boss is going to want you dead.”

Will nodded, continuing to walk, but Steve caught his shoulder.

“Like, not returning to Skyhold and camping out on the underside of a troll’s asscheek low. Tell me that was just a hypothetical.”

Will relayed the story of his kidnapping.

“Right! The bounty the other day!” he exclaimed. “That was you! There were three more, and they got away!?”

“If by ‘they got away’, you mean ‘decided not to finish me off because I was surrounded by other Climbers’, then yes.”

“Dear gods! You’ve already got one’s attention and you killed one of his vassals!” Steve said, clutching his head, eyes wide.

“I didn’t see any Lord’s insignia. Honestly I thought they were Eaters until we killed one. He did say something about my ‘new owner’, but I thought he was talking about selling me at an auction or something.”

“Oh, of course! I’m a Lord doing highly illegal bullshit, let me just put my insignia on it! Of course they looked like Eaters!” Steve said mockingly, throwing his hands up in the air. “By the gods, you’re in more trouble than Iam, and I’m stuck with you for another month!”

Steve gasped, clutching his heart.

“I can’t leave. I can’t leave without dying! Your blasted ‘deal’ has killed me! Dear Andover, whom I’ve always been faithful to, why must you test me so?”

Guess he doesn’t trigger the ‘no lying’ thing for whining to the universe at large.

“Your Blessing of Andover is a Secondary Ability,” Will pointed out. No one would have passed up undeniably lucrative healing abilities offered as a primary, therefore…

“Faithful since I found religion, anyway.” Steve clarified. “I may have…shopped around a bit for a religion with…eh…low barrier to entry.”

Will raised a brow. “No, really?”

“Do you realize how hard it is to get gigs as a ‘charlatan?’” Steve demanded. “If I couldn’t heal, I’d be long since cast out of the Tower, committing petty fraud to get by.”

“And faking your own death to saddle us with your Corpse Fine isn’t petty fraud?”

“Anything above ten gold is Greater Fraud, and anything above ten thousand is Grand fraud.” Steve pointed out.

“Right. Of course. Good to know.”

“Ooh…I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” Steve crouched down beside a boulder and bemoaned his fate.

“If I’m already dead and it looks like they’re gonna kill you too, you’ve got my permission to trip and break your neck again,” Will said.

Steve looked contemplative.

Will gave a sharp inhale of breath as a thought occurred to him.

“Actually, can the Feign Death Ability work on other people?” He asked.

Steve looked up at him, then glanced at Loth, then back to him. A moment later a hint of understanding glinted in his eye. “Indeed it can.”

Will took out The Serpent’s Tomahawk and twirled it like a baton. “Would you be interested in adding some terms to our agreement?” Will asked.

Steve’s posture filled with confidence.

“My rates just went u-“ Steve’s eyes bulged, and he sank to his knees.

“Aww, is raising your prices not ‘supporting my party to the best of your abilities’?” Will asked, squatting beside the priest as Steve gave up on the scam and drew a ragged breath instead.

“This thing even gives warning nudges,” Will said, marvelling at his weapon. “Neat.”

“Oftentimes things have effects that don’t show in the description,” Steve gasped. “Why don’t we sell that weapon? It’s worth as much as me, at least.”

“No thanks,” Will said. “I’m not selling my first Relic to settle your debt. We either get the money we need from your secret stash of dead rich kids and yetis, or you die. There is no in between.”

“Then I won’t-“ Steve began strangling again as the weight of twelve identical pacts began weighing down on him, for a grand total of 108% stat reduction. Negative stats weren’t a thing, and typically if someone’s stats dropped to zero, they would just die.

Some people thought it was because the body had fully integrated with the system, others that stats reduced to zero de-acclimated a Climber. Whatever the cause, it was often lethal.

“How much time do we have?” Will thought aloud. “If it takes a messenger an increasing amount of time to stay on one level, before moving on to the next, and the exact same amount of time on the way back, we should have…like a month? At least?”

Steve shook his head and cleared his throat.

“There are teams who specialized in moving mail quickly. They have manned stations on every floor, where they pass the mail from one person to the next. A letter can get to the fifth floor in a day, for the right price.”

“A day up and a day back?” Will mused.

Steve nodded.

“So word could get back to the men who tried to kidnap me about what to do as early as…tonight?”

Steve nodded. “They’re definitely going to be ordered to kill you.”

“Steve, I need your help faking my death.” Will said.