Breaking Step (Dungeon Runner 3)

Tibs sensed the guards posted around the house. Four of them, not quite hidden from view. If their goal was to catch him getting in, they were doing a poor job of it. If getting in was his intent, they were just warning him of what they were paying attention to. It would make it harder, but, just like how he'd picked a location on this roof where they couldn't see him because he knew they were there. He'd be able to get in when they looked away.

Not that he needed to be inside the house to teach those two not to take advantage of their charges.

He used air to pull the conversation through the wall to him, followed their movement through their essence. As faint as it was, it followed the same channel as it did in Tibs, so he could tell when one raised an arm and the swift motion connected with the Omega. He couldn't stop it, but he could make the following moments bad enough that person would believe luck was a thing, and that it had been stolen from them.

He used Air, and a basket tripped them. Fire made the pot's handle so much hotter than they expected. Lighting a candle caused a flame that singed their face. The bucket of water was too hot to wash themselves with, their meal always cold when it should be hot, their ale too hot to be enjoyed.

Tibs sacrificed his other work and had to apply weaves of purity over himself to deal with the exhaustion. Those weren't as efficient as suffusing himself, but after six days, neither dared raise a hand against the Omegas under their care anymore.

There were others who took advantage, and Tibs would deal with them in time, but this couple had been the worse, and when he finally slept, he slept quite well.

* * * * *

Tibs studied what the stalls lining the now fully paved path offered, as well as the Omegas passing by. This was the second day the guild let them go in. He'd missed the first one because he'd slept through it.

What he heard of the results was as he expected. Few of the runners made it out. The one difference he saw on those now waiting their turn was the lack of a confused expression that had been so prevalent in Tibs's early days running the dungeon. At least they had been told what to expect. They were called, were handed their equipment, and put on a team. They followed instructions, then waited.

Sto stayed silent, for which Tibs was grateful. He didn't want to know how poorly they were doing. Seeing the team be sent up without one exiting was enough.

The expressions he saw on the Omegas were a mix of fear, bravado, determination, and resignation. Bravado and resignation wouldn't help them survive, and Tibs hoped their failure didn't drag the rest of the team down with them.

He spied an Omega at a booth displaying swords and shields, and stepped next to her. He nodded to the man; he assisted at the Sharp Edge shop, on Merchant Row.

"Can I ask a question? It's for her," Tibs added at the man's surprised expression, "but I'd rather no one noticed."

"Me?" she asked, confused and looking at him.

"Might be best if you check the weight of the shield, Miss," the man said, handing her one smaller than the one she'd been looking at.

"What did they tell you about the rules of the runs?" Tibs asked, taking a short sword and studying its edge.

"Rules?" she held the shield with both hands and didn't seem to know what to do with it. "To help each other survive."

"Did they say anything about how far you need to go?" He sensed the metal of the blade. Like all the shops on the Row, it was good quality, but now that he had Metal, he could tell the differences that would let one keep an edge better than the other, or one that might snap under strain, where a better made one would continue to hold.