“Halt! No weapons in the presence of the King,” one of them shouted in that no-nonsense, ‘I don’t really want to be dealing with you’ tone unique to vice-principals and policemen.

    Joseph gestured at some seating just down the hall. “I’ll need to ask you to stay behind, Lady Laurelstone. And one of your companions too, Lord Roughtuff. Please leave your weapons as well.”

    I nodded. “Aye. Starshine, do ya mind waitin’?”

    “Ach, aye.” The heavily plated dwarf took Balin’s axe and my warhammer, then walked over with Lady Laurelstone to hold up the wall.

    The guard scanned us with his eyes, and probably a couple more Abilities. Then he gestured, and the doors swung open on their own. “You may enter. Please wait to be called by the Sergeant at Arms.”

    And then we were through the doors, and inside a plushly appointed room. It wasn’t too big, only about five meters by five meters. Another pair of gilded double doors sat on the opposite end.

    “This is the antechamber.” Joseph said, taking a seat on a green gold-trimmed couch. “They’ll give us a short warning before we’re due to enter. The guards will have notified them that we’re here.”

    I sat on the couch across from Joseph and stretched out my feet while Balin stood behind me.

    Joseph looked up at him. “You two are brothers? By blood or bond?”

    I smiled. “By bond. Me brother and I went through a lot together.”

    “Dwarves do take their kin and clans quite seriously.” Joseph looked oddly wistful. “Elves are not quite so.”

    “Any advice before we meet tha King?” I asked. I’d crash coursed on elven etiquette with Duke Barnes and Tourmaline, but I could use any advice my elven business partner would give.

    “Absolutely. The current King does stand somewhat on etiquette, so you’ll need to ensure you make bows at twenty meters and ten meters. Don’t approach the throne any closer than that. Just follow my lead.”

    “Aye.”

    “Make sure not to look him in the eye.”

    “Heh. Eye.”

    “And he’s going to ask you about being Barck’s Chosen. I recommend you be as cagey as possible.”

    “Ay - erm.” I blanked. Fully. Blue screen of death. I had to use a [Flash of Insight] to get things started again. I jumped to my feet, and Balin went to pull out his confiscated weapon but grasped at air. “You’re-!”

    Joseph sketched a bow while seated. “I am. Joseph Stannard, once Giuseppe Civran of the Republic of Venice. This crop’s Chosen of Tiara, Goddess of Riches. This room is protected against scrying so we have a few moments to discuss things openly here, Peter. The King will want you to swear yourself to him, but you must not do it.”

    There’d always been a possibility of this being a trap for me as a walking dungeon, let alone one of the God’s Chosen. Balin and I had discussed at length what our options would be in that scenario. They were limited. I had an emergency Commstone that would put me in contact with Duke Schist, and a heavily enchanted rock that was constantly broadcasting my location to a paired item in Kinshasa. I just had to get somewhere safe, then wait for some dwarven diplomats to come arrange my release.

    Dwarven diplomacy often involved axes.

    Thankfully, I pretty much always had a safe place to hide close at hand these days.

    “You have to ten,” I stated, walking to the nearest wall while Balin stood guard beside me. “Then I’m opening a door to Cascadia and shutting it behind me. And I’m only giving you that because I’ve known you for so long. Speaking of which, how long have you known I was one of the Gods’ Chosen Catalysts?”

    If I closed the door behind me, I’d get stuck there, but he didn’t know that. And there were always options for getting out that I could try later.

    Joseph remained seated, and crossed his legs sedately. “The King knows you’re a Chosen because the founder of Awemedinand was a Chosen. I know because I’m one myself, and you aren’t exactly subtle.”

    I began counting down on my fingers. “Ten. Why are you telling me now?”

    “A fair question. I''m constantly under watch, but the antechamber here is enchanted against all scrying. It''s important to ensure diplomats can speak frankly before meeting the King,” Joseph explained, palms out. “The King can''t move against me too explicitly, but he is my King, he can make things difficult for me. I''d prefer to stay in his good graces, so I kept quiet. I’m telling you now because His Majesty will no doubt try to trick or trap you; he wants as many Chosen under his thumb as possible.” ?A??O?????ΕS

    I dropped my hand, which I’d placed up against the wall to prepare to use [Dungeon Dimension]. “Now we’re talkin’. The Tree? The [Mother Tree]?”

    Joseph looked chagrined. “Yes. Or rather, its owner. The founder of Awemedinand. And likely the oldest of the God’s Chosen still alive on Erd. Unless there’s a draconic Chosen still walking around.”

    I gawped. “Holy shit.”

    “Yes, and she will not allow any other Chosen to come to harm. And the King is only King by her forbearance. It’s complicated, but His Majesty Ezrael cannot move against you without jeopardizing his position. So he will seek your willing cooperation or trick you into it.”

    “And you don’t want me to give it to him.”

    Joseph grinned slyly. “No! I’m quite happy with being the sole purveyor of dwarven beer and brewing materials to Awemedinand. And whatever else you invent, as the Chosen of Invention.”

    “And if I decide that a King would make a superior business partner?”

    He sighed. “Then I would be disappointed, but I would understand. I think you would be hitching your bags to the wrong Kododo though.”

    “Hmmm...” I eyed him critically. “Have you gotten any hidden achievements?”

    “You mean the one for melding my body and soul? Yes. [Mother Tree] recommended doing it as quickly as possible. Berry still hasn’t, and I can see how it''s affecting her. Harmsson never did either. You can tell; they don’t quite fit.”

    I had noticed that. Moreso with Berry since I knew her better.

    I stepped away from the wall. I was still uneasy, but...

    I’d known Joseph for about a year. He’d been a good and honest business partner, and I didn’t consider myself that bad a judge of character. Besides, most of what he’d told me wasn’t new information; ever since the reveal that Copperpot knew what I was, I’d always assumed the higher nobility had protocols for dealing with Chosen Catalysts when they popped up.

    “Fine, I won''t run now,” I growled, “but if anything suspicious happens I''m booking it. And we’re gonna talk later.”

    “You sure, Pete?” Balin asked.

    “Aye.”

    Joseph relaxed again. “You are an ambassador from one of our closest trade partners. That adds another layer of untouchability.”

    Now it was my turn to slump into the couch. “Ugh. Does Schist know?”

    Joseph pulled at his ears. “Hmm, possibly. Though he shouldn''t have before he became Duke. Has his behavior towards you changed since then?”

    I thought it over. “No, not really.”

    “Then does it matter?”

    I sighed, and raked my fingers through my beard. “I guess not. Agh!”

    There was a knock at the throne door. A moment later, the door creaked open and another mithril armoured guard peaked inside. “His Majesty will see you now.”

    Joseph rose to his feet, “Last chance to leave.”

    Eh, I had a quest. And the entire might of Crack behind me. “Eh, let''s go. Come on Balin, Let''s meet the King!”

    “Do I have to?”

    “Yes!”