CHAPTER THREE-HUNDRED NINETY-TWO

Jana

Where Noynur likes to go over his book while he thinks, the foxkin woman prefers to go over her gear. While she knows every speck of her equipment as well as Noynur knows his book, it soothes her mind to go over everything, and her mind could use some soothing right about now.

She can’t believe the orc actually wasn’t paranoid enough about Thedeim! Sure, he was wrong about the dungeon’s intentions, but to underestimate the dungeon’s ability is another thing entirely. That it could have read his book as soon as he entered its territory was already concerning, but that it refused to do so to be polite was a whole new variety of confusing.

Still, she had hoped them giving it the warning would be enough and they could wash their hands of it, but that appears to have been too optimistic of her. At least Noynur seemed to see this wrinkle coming. She sighs as she notices a burr along the blade of one of her knives, and settles in to hone it out as she thinks, wondering how it could have come to this.

If she was as good as Noynur at putting pieces together, she’d have probably expected something like this from the day they met. She had joined the local thieves guild young, but not because she wanted to. Her parents were simple laborers, and looking back now, they probably only stuck together because each could only afford half the rent.

And maybe because of her. The two never really fought, but she still thinks it was because the two were always so tired after coming home. They’d eat some simple meal together, make exhausted efforts at asking about her day, then stagger off to bed, when they didn’t just fall asleep at the table.

Then one night, they didn’t come home. She never did get the full details. She’s pretty sure Noynur knows, but she’s never had the courage to ask him. All she knows is they were loading something that someone wanted enough to kill for. She doesn’t know if she’d prefer it was something simple like food and the murderers were just desperate, or for it to have been some incredible treasure. Considering how it ended, probably the second, but neither would be worth the loss of her parents.

She examines the sharpened blade for a moment. Maybe that’s why she never got the details… they wouldn’t change anything. She resumes going over her many knives as her mind continues down memory lane. Driough would call it a form of meditation, but she’s not the sort of woman for that kind of fancy stuff.

She’s the thief daughter of murdered laborers, partially responsible for taking down thieves guilds all across the continent. The one responsible for her parents was the first, and how she and Noynur met. She joined the guild on her own, an empty belly a greater arguer against her morals than anything else. But she nursed her hatred, prepared her vengeance, sharpened her blades and her perception.

And noticed an orc subtly gathering information. Was he from a rival guild? Maybe with the guard? Either way, he might get in the way of her revenge! She shakes her head at her old self, hindsight showing she was sprinting down the path to become what she hated, and didn’t realize it until a certain hulking orc met her eyes without fear in that alley.

He wasn’t exactly hulking at the time. He doesn’t talk about his past much, but she thinks he was a scribe or maybe an apprentice investigator for the guard before he learned he needed to be able to protect himself if he wanted to keep sticking his green nose where it didn’t belong. Dual hatchets versus dual knives. She was faster, but he could read her like the huge book at his hip. Her feints were ignored and he moved to intercept her attacks even before she knew she was making them! His own counters were simple and easy to spot, yet still difficult to dodge as he’d try to strike when and where she was least prepared to handle it!

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It was like playing chess with blades. She’s not much for the game, not least of all because Noynur’s so good at it. But that day, they were a match for each other, and eventually they were both barely standing, gasping for air, barely able to hold their weapons. She actually dropped one of her daggers when he spoke.

“They were your parents, weren’t they?” He may have asked it like a question, but his eyes showed he already knew. “If you want to stop the ones who did it, why are you trying to stop me?”

“You’re in the way!”

“Of what? Your revenge? Do you even know the name of who did it?”

Her grip on her last knife tightened, knowing he was right, but she couldn’t admit it. She wasn’t even positive she was in the same guild that killed them!

“Because I do.”

She gaped at him then. She sometimes still does, when he manages to pull an answer out of the air. He’s not always right. In fact, he’s wrong more often than not, but Jana knows it's because he goes after the most challenging mysteries, not the simplest ones.

“How?” she had whispered, and was surprised to get an explanation. A very detailed one, in fact. How some orc she’d never seen before could know so much, she couldn’t fathom, but she could understand one thing: anyone who could piece that together, they could help her get justice for her parents.

She smiles at the memory of taking down the guild, gathering information, gathering evidence, slowly yet surely following the trail to expose not only the murder, but the ones who gave the order to get whatever was in that box by any means necessary.

She watched them hang after they gave the guards all the evidence. If it had just been her, if she had been able to plunge her daggers into their hearts, claim their lives herself… she probably would have never stopped. But with them executed for their crimes, for all the world to see? She stared until their bodies were cut down and carried away. She didn’t feel good… but she did feel better. Like she did something right.

After that, she stuck with Noynur, did some delving, met Driough while investigating something about a pumpkin that granted wishes (which turned out to just be a scam), toppled more guilds, investigated more crazy conspiracies, and now they’re here. Now they’ve agreed to find evidence of an Earl working with the local thieves guild.

And if anyone is going to be able to snoop through the Earl’s stuff to find said evidence, it’s going to have to be her. If it was just the Earl, Jana would be in his room right now, not going over her gear. Even with the Calm Seas on his side, she’s confident in being able to get into his chambers without anyone noticing. ɽÄＮộ𝔟Êṧ

But it’s not just him. He has his maid. Civilians and even a lot of adventurers like to joke about servants secretly being masters of security, but reality is a lot closer than they might imagine. Oh, not all maids and butlers are so strong, but some of them definitely are. She’s spotted the maid in the Earl’s shadow, not literally of course, and seen how she moves, how she observes. Cleaning up a room and cleaning up misdeeds are not so different, at the end of the day.

The maid is going to be her main obstacle, and not one she’s sure she can deal with on her own. Someone like the Earl isn’t going to settle for simply good. No, he’s going to want the best he can afford, and with his pockets, he can afford the best. Which is why she’s going over her gear right now. No, she’s not just going to go and attack her, no matter how much that impulsive little voice in her head urges her to.

No, if she’s as good as Jana suspects she is, she’s going to need her party, and probably a bit more. She nods to herself and gets into her leather armor, her knives gleaming as she moves. She’s not in her kit for the maid, but for Gerlfi and his party. They need to work together, and they’ll need to fight together if they want this to work.

She smirks and rests a hand on her hip, looking at Noynur. “How do I look?”

He glances up, and her smirk widens just a fraction as he holds his look a hair longer than strictly required, before it returns to his book. “...Distracting.”

“Perfect! I’m looking forward to seeing what those three can do! Do you think Gerlfi has any fey that can make me even more ‘distracting’, as you put it?”

Noynur keeps his gaze on his book, even as Driough quietly laughs at their banter. “I hope not,” answers the orc. “Otherwise, it’ll make working together in a fight even more difficult.”