II-5 Infiltrate

When in deep cover, it is essential and most effective that you let those you interact with come to their own conclusions. The sign of a good performance isn’t strain or effort, but harmony and adaptation.

Even if you answer every last detail correctly, memorize the entirety of another’s life, there will be a point where you make a choice so drastically unlike them that it will arouse suspicion. This cannot be avoided. This is the nature of our existence—even with magical enhancement. Short of having a Master Acting Skill, you won’t be able to fully submerge your own ego and melt into another.

But you can sink deep enough that no one notices, so long as you keep yourself subtle. Don’t volunteer details. Don’t shake or seek to adjust what someone thinks of you. Let them define who you are and work to fit the mold. You can be active to avoid the passivity trap in these confines.

And ultimately, if things get truly desperate, it is not uncommon for one to fall ill or be impaired in a sense that makes it easier to hide whatever inaccuracy or oddity of behavior. Understand that this constrains the effective limits of your cover as well.

After all, playing the simpleton can let you go unnoticed, but no one is going to let a simpleton anywhere near a true position of power…

-The Ways of the Unseen: Aviary Training Manual

II-5

Infiltrate

Intimidation > 20

“Okay. Do the expression again.” Adam waved his hand in front of Shiv’s face.

Shiv just stared at him for a beat. Then slowly opened his mouth wide and started staring off at nothing.

“Mouth wider—eyes more distant. More distant. More distant.”

“Adam, my eyes can’t get any more distant. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Just think about a trauma moment in your life,” Adam said.

“It was kind of shit when you got back from your academy and decided to make everyone notice me,” Shiv said. “That just makes my hand shake a bit from the adrenaline, though. So does remembering how badly the War Priest and the faithful beat me.” His expression turned to snarl.

“No… no… Shell shock, Shiv. Shell shock. Horrified. Mentally spent and lost inside yourself. Not the face of a snarling dog.”

“Then we’re not going to be able to pull this off with my memories, because the worst ones just piss me off?”

“Godsdammit, you’re useless,” Adam muttered. He dropped his head and looked at Uva. “Uva can you…” He gestured wildly in Shiv’s direction.

The Psychomancer glared. “First. I can’t get to his mind when he’s wearing the mask. Second, are you truly asking me to mentally damage the mind of someone I care for so they can achieve an exaggerated expression of trauma by being actually traumatized.”

Adam considered her question. “Can you do it if he takes the mask off, briefly?”

Uva clenched her jaw tight and took a step closer to Adam. “Of course, Adept Adam. But this will require careful calibration, so he still has a mind left to perform the incredibly complex and delicate task that is infiltration. A task he is not actually trained for—and has no skills for. I must damage him just right, and to do this, I need a testing canvas first. Being the only other surfacer here—and one that shares a culture and history with him—I think you are the only viable candidate. Wouldn’t you agree.”

By this point, Adam was actively backing away from Uva as she practically loomed over him, her agitation clear with every word. Off by the side, Shiv looked on and sighed. “Broken Moon, that drives me wild.” Back when he was growing up, he never expected people caring for him, let alone getting mad on his behalf. Now, with a very attractive Umbral threatening to destroy Adam’s mind, Shiv was feeling his stomach do backflips.

“I—I think this is the most amount of words you’ve said to me at once,” Adam stuttered.

“I can say more to you. Mentally. Shall we begin, Adept Adam? This might take a while? Oh, but then the mercenaries will pass by without being infiltrated, and this whole thing will be pointless.” Uva practically had her nose against Adam’s forehead. “Adam. Do you understand how stupid, rushed, and reckless I think this operation is, yes?”

“Yes,” Adam said, creating more space between them. “You told me. A lot. All day.”

“Well. Let me tell it to you once more, and add something else: Stop overcomplicating. His goal is to get in with the group, confirm the presence of the weapon, and then, create an opening for us and Trapdoor to eliminate the enemy, if possible. If they are beyond our capacity to handle—or the situation does not lend itself to an ambush—he is to pin a mana tracker onto the weapon so we have something to offer as evidence, and so you have something to follow after they enter the gate.”

“Yes, yes, fine, okay,” Adam said, holding his hands out so that Uva would stop menacing him. “Shiv. Just… be simple, okay? You can do that, right? It’s not much harder than you are right now…”

“Sure, Adam. Of course, being the simple man I am, your next meal might end up forgotten. Because simple people can’t remember that much stuff at once.”

“Fine, just… do what I showed you, okay?” Adam scoffed. “You two are nightmarish together.”

Shiv and Uva shared a look. They might not be able to communicate via mind magic right now, but their eyes said enough.

“Adept Adam. Is Master Shiv ready?” Still Water’s voice echoed from Adam’s brooch. “I have eyes on the secret convoy. They’ve encountered some of the… decorations you left behind from last night. A few of them are actively arguing about asking for increased pay.”

Shiv grinned. That explained why his Intimidation went up without him doing anything earlier.

“There are twenty mercenaries in total. At least ten Adepts. Two are Masters. One… One I’m not sure about. They glanced out my way a few times. Bloodspawn. Might have some kind of Heroic Awareness. Or they’re just paranoid.”

Adam stared at Shiv. “Let’s hope the latter.”

“I hope the former,” Shiv muttered. “I want to fight another high vampire. It’s been a while.”

Adam gritted his teeth. “Keep your bloodlust in check. You can level any other time.”

“Not without good enemies, I can’t,” Shiv muttered.

“Shiv, system help me,” Adam said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Shiv grunted. “Fine. I’ll do what I can.”

“Before that,” Uva said. She walked over to Shiv and traced his jaw with an armored finger. The act looked weird against his Perfect Semblance, but Shiv understood. He pulled off his skull helm and lifted the mask for a moment, revealing his true self. He was about to ask her what she wanted. Only for her to pull him in for a taste of her lips.

For a few heartbeats, Shiv didn’t do so much thinking. He was just a happy animal. A simple man. As she pulled away, he stared on at her and she smiled slightly. “Remember. Careful.”

“Yes, Sister Uva,” he breathed. He put the mask back on and locked his helm back in place using his Biomancy. But the floating feeling of euphoria lingered inside him for a few moments longer. Shiv breathed out, completely relaxed despite the coming mission.

Adam blinked at Shiv before he turned to Uva and laughed. “Well. Looks like you did it anyway!” He grinned at the happy Shiv who managed a perfect, absentminded expression while using the slaver’s face. “That’s the exact expression I want. Now. Let’s get some more blood on him. We really, really need to sell this…”

***

Approximately an hour later, Shiv was staggering out from the woods, clinging to the memory of Uva as he tried to keep his expression consistent. The mercenary transport team was loud enough that even he could hear them—and to make matters more interesting, he felt his mask-hidden mana splash into a much larger Biomancy field almost six minutes before the group actually arrived.

Must be a Master Biomancer among them. If this goes bad, I better kill them first if I can. Meanwhile, just keep doing the face, Shiv…

The mercenary transport team arrived just as his face was about to start cramping up. He counted eight on the road, dragging a large trolley containing what he assumed to be the Animancy Core behind them. If the others weren’t there, Shiv guessed they were spread out in the woods to prevent someone from managing an easy ambush. They were already looking more professional than the outfit Shiv and the others hit last night.

The one pulling the core along was thrice Shiv’s height and muscle. The skin he left exposed was a rough and ugly gray lined with scars, while the rest of him was layered in dense chunks of obsidian. A fanged mace hung from the brute’s side, and it was a bit bigger than Shiv’s true body. The big beast stopped as other members of his group noticed Shiv. The Deathless watched as the brute regarded him with two beady eyes of piss yellow, no nose, and a jaw filled with rows of jagged teeth.

That must be an orc. Damn, they’re big. Is this how Adam feels when he looks at me?

The orc drew in a breath and declared: “Contact.” His voice rumbled out far and wide as he extracted his fanged mace with a sigh. Rather than hurling threats or responding like a savage, the orc took a measured step forward, leaned down, and placed his massive paw on the shoulder of one of his companions in the vanguard. This one was obscured by a veil of swirling shadows, and Shiv sensed they were at the epicenter of the Master-Tier Biomancy Skill.

And there might be a high vampire. Shit. If they have Heroic-Tier Awareness too, I might end up having a short night.

Both the orc and the supposed vampire eyed Shiv as they exchanged a few words. They were far enough away that he couldn’t hear them—-but Shiv was pretty sure Adam got every word. The Deathless added a brief stumble as he kept the shell shocked look on his face, opening and closing his mouth a few times. It might not be much but…

Skill Gained: Acting 1 (Common)

It was enough.

The orc patted the vampire on the shoulder twice more before stomping forward. Shiv noted the other members of this ensemble. They were all clad in heavy armor—except for an Umbral. Her armor was, in fact, extremely heavy, seeming more like a small fortress built around her body than anything. Even her open visor looked liked a drawbridge leading into an old castle.

The orc walked out alone, his footsteps hammering hard and loud as he approached Shiv. The ebony road was wide enough to accommodate an adult cave biter that made the orc look like a spec. Yet, there was something colossal about the orc—far greater than his obvious size. Shiv felt it in the way the orc’s footsteps made the very ground tremble. It was like the earth below was roused to agitation by the orc’s approach.

The orc came to a stop with five meters between him and Shiv. The brute clicked his teeth together and hummed, looking what he assumed to be a bloodied slaver up and down. “You are a flesh runner?”

Shiv didn’t know the exact nomenclature for slavers, so just he continued doing the look instead of saying yes. That was the recommendation everyone gave him: Keep it simple and sell the trauma.

An uncomfortable silence followed. The orc breathed in deep. And then made a low, clucking noise with his tongue. “Yes, I think. Hmm. Rather traumatized too. Tell me, were those your compatriots a few kilometers away? The flayed ones hanging from some of the mushrooms by the roadside.”

This time, Shiv nodded with a shaky slowness. He hoped that he sold it well enough.

“Ah. Unfortunate. Unfortunate indeed. But that is the nature of the trade, no? We move things people want, and they pay us much for it. But never more than what the item is worth. So there are always dangers. Dangers hidden in the dark.” The Orc looked into the woods—and Shiv spotted a flash of metal in the distance. “And dangers in our hearts. For greed plucks at us so easily. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Shiv opened and closed his mouth. Simple. Traumatized.

Acting > 2

He was going to be a theater star in no time.

The orc let out a heavy breath that washed over Shiv. He was expecting to smell something rancid, but to his surprise, the orc came with the taste of mint. His teeth are oddly clean, too… Dammit, is the bestiary right about anything but lesser vampires? Why does the Republic lie about practically everything?

“Well. You have nothing to fear from us, little flesh runner. Nothing at all. Because we do not have the time for you.”

“Gate,” Shiv managed, trying to sound as vulnerable as he could. “Take me there… please…”

The orc observed him. “Hmm.” Blinked briefly, turned to stare at the vampire, and—Shiv caught the vampire rolling their eyes. When the orc faced Shiv again, he was smiling, and that look was triggering Shiv’s fight and fight harder response. That was not the face of a herbivore at all. But so far, the orc was oddly pleasant. Even rather affable. “My name is 811. You wish to go to the Compact gate?”

“Gate Theborn?” 811 asked further.

Shiv was about to agree again when he paused. He didn’t actually remember what the gate was called. Ikki mentioned it at some point, but he just let it slip from his mind. “I… I think… I don’t know… There was… so much blood. The attack is… My memory is bad right now.”

811 nodded. “Understandable. Trauma does this to a human mind. Ah. Come along, then. Let us take a walk. You may tell me what happened to you, if you so wish. I understand this makes your race feel better—you are social animals, correct?”

Shiv suddenly felt like he was an animal on exhibition. The orc walked next to Shiv and placed a hand against his back—a hand that covered his entire back. Shit, I was hoping he would take me closer to the transport… Now he’s moving me along faster.

Shiv looked over his shoulder when he heard a few of the mercenaries laughing. Someone said something about an itch and the shrouded vampire was still shaking their head.

Something wrong in Shiv’s stomach. Very wrong. But so far, the ork was behaving very kindly—too kindly. If they just told Shiv to piss off, that would have been a failed infiltration, and they would need to do something else, but now he was being led ahead of the group—practically made to jog to keep up with 811’s every step.

“Do you know why they call me 811?” the ork asked.

Shiv looked up and tried to keep more fear than curiosity in his voice. “I’m afraid I don’t know too much about orks.”

“Ah. That is because our races rarely have conducive discussions. Well. Conducive to understanding, that is. When it comes to killing each other, our kinds do that rather well. That is why I am 811. I am the 811th clone of my spiritual line. The memories of my predecessors’ still echo in my mind. They have been to many places, killed many people, but most of them died here. On this planet. Against you. Humans. So small. So fragile. Yet so vicious and cruel.”

811 looked up and smiled. “We appreciate that in you. My kind was made for bloodshed. Yours was born to it. Ah. If only yours could have committed more. System. You are so broken it makes me happy.”

Okay, what the hells is this conversation, Shiv wondered. He heard stories about orcs being monsters, but he had no idea if this thing was about to cry in sympathy or eat him. Shiv’s disturbed confusion played on his face as the orc just smirked.

“Ah. Ignore me. I am of the sentimental kind. Even for my race. Now. I have spoken enough to get something from you, and I have been kind. This is a social behavior that should be rewarded, yes?”

Shiv blinked. “I guess?”

“Tell me your name, then?”

“I—” Shiv nearly told the damn orc his actual name because of how weird this conversation was. “I’m Mark. Mark Speeirson. I’m… I’m no one. Just a slaver… Oh, go–uh, Great One, they’re all dead.”

“Hm. Right. The survivor's guilt. Your minds are so odd. Why are you punished for surviving? For proving your effectiveness? Such a poorly designed organ. Such a wonderful organ.”

“You don’t get bothered when your kind dies?” Shiv asked, genuinely curious.

The orc shook his head and sighed like a parent about to correct a child. “You truly don’t know much about my race. It is so sweet. The ignorance. I could pull you apart right now.”

Shiv’s basic instincts screamed for him to attack the orc first. His desire to see if the orc actually could rip him in half made him keep this act going. The rest of the group was getting further and further behind. Yet, to Shiv’s surprise, the shrouded vampire was following them—only two meters behind.

Yep. Something is absolutely about to go wrong. Not great for the infiltration effort, but the orc’s might just be able to put me down…

Whatever the case, Shiv was going to be getting something out of this.

“Who were you contracted to?” 811 asked. “Is it Scorn? Or Belalu. Or Liu?”

Shiv didn’t know any of these names other than Scorn. That was supposed to be some kind of demon lord or something. He continued playing the ignorant. “I’m not much of a reader, man. I just… I owed some stuff and I had skills. That’s how I got into this work.”

“What? You weren’t curious at all? About your own life? About who owns you?” For the first time 811 seemed mad.

“I… I…” Shiv grimaced. “I’ll need to find out. Just give me a break. I’m stressed, I’m tired, everyone I was with got butchered and flayed by some kind of… Skintaker—”

“Skintaker?” 811 blinked. He leaned down. “Tell me. What is that?”

“There was a… creature that attacked us. That slaughtered us. He—uh, it was powerful. And large. And… He tore us apart. We couldn’t do anything to stop him.” Internally, Shiv was cringing. It wasn’t his intent to lead the conversation down this way, but he ended up trying to tap into more of the traumatized fool character, and now he was basically praising himself for the violence he committed. He kept going on for a bit, trying to make himself babble and even tried to whimper. Shiv regretted that. He didn’t have the voice for whimpering.

“Truly,” the orc breathed. 811 shouldered his mace and looked joyously into the woods. “I think I will take a walk here after having a brief set of libations at Little Gomorrah. I hope you are not lying to me, Mark. Because you shouldn’t lie to your friends. You really were attacked by a Skintaker, yes? You are sure?”

“Yeah, I am sure!” Shiv said, trying to act offended. He was going to keep up the act when the orc suddenly pulled him off the road and into the woods. Shit. He’s about to do something soon. Shiv’s mind tremored with anticipation and excitement. They had been going long enough that the rest of the group was beyond their sight—the rest of the group aside from the vampire. 

“W-where are we going?” Shiv said, doing his best to sound scared.

“Taking a look,” 811 said, staring off into the darkness with his beady yellow eyes. “Perhaps we might even get lucky right now. I could break two things out here, and you can die knowing that your people have been avenged.”

“Die?” Shiv asked, blinking.

811 stared at him with so much pity that Shiv realized it was genuine. “Ah. You truly know nothing about me or my kind. I will miss you, little victim. But… despite my fascination with your culture and my determination to understand you better, I am still an orc. A war-born, war-bred, war-fed. I am… feeling the itch. The Black-Hunger. And I have not maimed, broken, or killed anything in two days and two nights. This is not your fault. I am merely starved, and the others with me I cannot afford to kill per the conditions of my contract.”

The orc came to a stop, and so did Shiv. This was a hell of a way to find out that orcs literally had to hurt and kill someone to keep themselves fed. By this point, Shiv didn’t have the urge to keep on playing the scared victim. It was time to drop the pretenses and have some actual fun.

811 rolled his tree-trunk arms and gripped his mace tighter. The vampire leaned against a nearby tree and sighed. “Come on, 811,” the vampire said, his voice a deep rasp. “Get on with it. You feed first. Then I do. And make it quick. We don’t want that bitch, Uveda, writing us up for indulging on the job again.”

And that explained why the vampire was here. Great. Instead of them taking him into their group and letting him infiltrate their number, he got led off to be butchered and devoured in the woods. What charming people Vicar Sullain hired to transport his weapon.

“Ah, there it is,” 811 said, looking down into Shiv’s eyes. “The coward has died. You have accepted your fate. Now is the time the ape ascends to die screaming! Die clawing against the soil of its grave. Beautiful. So beautiful.”

“Of all the bloody orcs I get stuck with, this one’s a romantic,” the high vampire muttered. “Get on with it! Hurry!”

“No,” 811 said, grinning. “He must fight. I want to see him fight. One last time. Perhaps for the first time in his life.” 811 held out his arms and gestured for Shiv to come. “Make this memorable, Mark. It is the last moments of your life. Scar me, and I will carry you in my mind. And those who come after me will remember you as well. That is an immortality. That is the only consolation—”

Shiv decided this was a good moment to test his stolen Blade Whirlwind skill. He flicked a bone dagger into his hand and slashed out at the orc’s exposed skin. He didn’t use his Biomancy because he needed to conserve his mana field for when the vampire tried to turn his body against him. That, and 811 had such a strong Magical Resistance that an easy kill through heart failure was impossible. So, for now, Shiv kept his Perfect Semblance as a layered surprise—the orc expected to be fighting a weak, desperate slaver, not another Master-Tier in disguise.

As a result, 811 bled. The orc grunted in surprise and flinched back. The vampire shot off the tree. Every one of Shiv’s attacks turned into a blur of cuts by the end—his arms becoming afterimages going in different directions, delivering several cuts at once. Blade Whirlwind wasn’t a bad skill for fighting groups of foes, but on its own, it wasn’t that impressive either. It just let someone cut in more directions at once. Without strength, speed, and a decent cutting tool, it wouldn’t do much.

But Shiv was strong, fast, and—

He jerked in surprise as a massive pressure clamped hard around Shiv’s legs. Beneath his Perfect Semblance, he felt his bone armor crack slightly. A brief glance down revealed a maw of stone had clamped down around his legs. Geomancy, Shiv realized. Then, 811’s mace came for him.

Compared to Harkness, the orc might as well have been fighting in slow motion. But that didn’t matter when Shiv was pinned in place and couldn’t move. So, Shiv took a direct approach to solving the problem: He parried the orc’s massive weapon down into the stone fangs holding him in place. It was a near thing. Even with Might of Mass, Diamond Shell, and Momentum Core draining just enough of the blow’s momentum to let him redirect the mace downward.

Parry > 34

The orc let out a surprised gasp as his weapon broke through the stone holding Shiv. That gasp became a grunt of astonishment as Shiv shot off the ground and dragged his bone dagger along 811’s neck. Yet, despite splitting skin and drawing blood, Shiv watched as the inner flesh of the orc turned to stone. He reached out to catch Shiv before he landed. Shiv launched himself over the orc’s back by kicking off the grabbing hand.

But the moment Shiv landed, the earth beneath him gave way. He sank down into the suddenly softening soil and a second later everything around him solidified, fusing back to stone. A crushing pressure rattled and clenched his armor. Shiv let out a wheeze of pain and growled. Godsdamned Geomancy. Evolved Geomancy at that. What is this? Did he fuse his Geomancy with his Toughness too?

811 turned. The vampire was approaching to support when the orc held out a hand, halting the bloodspawn. He regarded Shiv with a new expression, the yellow dots that were his eyes flashing briefly with mana. A moment followed. The orc just sighed. “Well, now that doesn’t make much sense. Only one Adept Skill… No Feat. No Blessing. Just… nothing. How did you do that?”

Shiv offered the orc a mocking grin. “You told me to make this memorable, didn’t you?”

The orc paused. The orc thought. And the orc laughed, and laughed, and laughed some more. By the end, he wiped yellowish tears off his face. “You… You are truly a gem. I will miss you. And I will remember you. Well done. But alas, one must still feed.”

The Deathless spat. “Well. You best make this memorable for me too?”

“Ah, your true nature discovered too late?” 811 sniffled. “I will weep for you in private.”

And then he brought his fanged mace down on Shiv. The Deathless parried again, and snarled as something in his hip fractured from the transferred torque. The ground was holding him in place at the waist, and he didn’t use Momentum Core this time. Mainly because he had another goal right now. A selfish goal.

Alright, you big felling bastard. Come and earn my death. Let’s see how many levels you can get my Diamond Shell to advance in the meantime.”

Shiv parried. And parried. And felt his dagger shatter apart by the third. The biggest problem wasn’t Toughness but strength. The orc was monstrously strong, and Shiv could feel something from the land surging up into 811 every time he swung. Whatever weird mix of Geomancy and Physicality or Toughness, it made 811 hit like a godsdamned avalanche.

When Shiv blocked the fourth blow with his arms, both shattered immediately. The fifth saw them rendered mangled stumps. The sixth blasted apart most of Shiv’s chest armor. The seventh speared his broken armor deep into the flesh it was meant to protect. As Shiv gagged and coughed blood, he managed a laugh. Might of Mass, Parry, and Diamond Shell were going to be shooting up today.

The orc let out a slight huff and Analyzed Shiv again. “How are you not dead?”

Shiv spat blood all over the orc’s dense obsidian boots. “Hit me like you meat it!”

811 blinked. Chuckled. And did as Shiv asked.

“No, wait!” the high vampire said—but they were too slow. 811’s mace trembled with so much power Shiv felt it crack the land before it even landed. When the weapon struck Shiv’s chest, most of his body ceased to be. But the blow kept going. Deeper and deeper into the earth, until a literal earthquake shook the forest and tore an expanding fissure that went on and on for kilometers. Huge chunks of stone were launched into the air and began to fall from above.

It was a small miracle Shiv managed to pop his corpse’s head off and get his mask into his cloak. It was another miracle that he respawned as a Revenant in the right direction, because if he ended up behind his corpse, he would be plunging into a deep and black pit. Judging by how the high vampire was screaming at the orc, the bloodspawn was too distracted to notice Shiv’s subtle Biomancy. That, and all the smoke shrouded his cloak.

Despite how off-course the infiltration went, this death was pretty good.

Diamond Shell > 84

Might of Mass > 75

Parry > 38

Knife Proficiency > 33

“What were you thinking?” the high vampire hissed. “Are you trying to get everyone to notice us? Are you trying to betray our position?”

Thunderous impacts sounded in the distance as massive chunks of earth achieved touchdown. Slowly, the parted land rumbled and closed as 811 made a casual gesture. Shiv noticed how the orc’s body lit with spell shapes like he was part of the spell. Yeah. Definitely a Skill Fusion. Carefully, Shiv maneuvered closer to his two enemies. They were both powerful, but with a bit of strategy and maybe—

“Back!” the vampire hissed. “You go back, now! And explain what you did to Uveda before she blames me for your mongrel behavior. I will not be penalized for this. Not again! Tell her this is your doing! Yours alone!”

The orc laughed. It was the sound of grinding rocks. “Ah, Isaiah. You really should relax more. What is the point of being a creature of the higher blood if you are so—”

“Go!” the vampire cried.

“Very well,” 811 said. Then, with a grunt and flex of his legs, he launched himself from the ground—and Shiv felt the earth itself give the orc a helpful boost. With a casual hop, the orc shot far over the land and returned to the rest of the mercenaries. Alone, the high vampire looked down into the mess of ruined earth where Shiv once was.

Suddenly, the Deathless realized his little infiltration attempt might not be over after all. Inching closer to the vampire from behind, Shiv prepared to show the bloodspawn just what it meant to be properly drained.