Four inquisitors stood behind me. Two of them had that mage look. The one holding me was massive, so he was probably a tank. The fourth I couldn't quite place. Some kind of support class, maybe?

  I didn't dare cast [Soul Index]. If any of them could feel me using mana, that would be the end of me. Well, maybe not me, since I had [Blink], but possibly Kasia, and since I’d grown pretty fond of her I didn’t want her to die.

  I quickly glanced around. There were several other inquisitors walking around, but none of them paid us any mind. Probably not a good idea to start shooting and attract even more attention. I might be able to handle four of them before they could harm me or Kasia if I caught them by surprise. But any more? I didn’t want to put that to the test.

  The tank looked me up and down. "What's with the ungodly mask?"

  "Ungodly?" I repeated.

  "Yeah. Looks evil."

  I needed something fast. Something stupid. Something that wouldn’t invite follow-up questions.

  "I... I have a big pimple."

  Okay, not my best.

  The inquisitor frowned. “A… pimple.”

  Before I could say anything else, Kasia stepped forward. "Oh, sir! The mask is because my grandmother is very ugly."

  Grandmother? I was only a year older than her!

  "I'm not—" I started, then caught myself. Shut up, Hecate. Just shut up.

  The inquisitor looked at Kasia, then back at me. "Is that true? Are you ugly?"

  Saying yes felt wrong on a fundamental level, but getting executed in the street would feel worse. The words stuck in my throat. I could barely force them out. "Yes... Hideous." It physically hurt me to say. Maybe I should have chanced it and shot them all.

  He pulled on my arm again. "Show me."

  "Oh no," Kasia said quickly. "You really don't want that, sir."

  The inquisitor frowned again. "Why not?"

  "She also smells very bad under the mask."

  Oh, come on!

  “How bad?” he asked.

  I sighed internally. “Very. It’s… medical.”

  “Medical,” the inquisitor echoed.

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s a very rare condition. It makes me very… ugly… and it stinks. The doctor said it’s highly contagious and gave me this mask to contain it. It’s the only thing that keeps it from spreading.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Take it off.”

  All that for nothing. Damn it. Why did we even come here? It was a stupid idea. What was wrong with me?

  Now I was probably going to die, and even worse, because of my stupid idea Kasia was going to die too.

  I looked at the inquisitors, trying to decide which one to shoot first. The tank holding my arm? He was right there. If I shot someone else he might break my arm. But what about the mystery build? Maybe he was the most dangerous. Maybe I should drop him first and hope whatever injury the tank would give me would heal if I killed someone else.

  The mystery build stepped forward. "That's enough, Kamil. Stop bothering that poor grandmother. Can't you see she's terrified?" He gestured dismissively. "What's a smelly old granny going to do?"

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  The other two inquisitors laughed.

  Kamil hesitated, then released my arm. "Yeah, alright. Fine." He shook his head. "Go on. Get out of here."

  I stood there for a second, barely believing it. Then I grabbed Kasia's arm and walked away as calmly as I could manage.

  “You going to scare a toddler next?” I heard one of the inquisitors laugh.

  “Shut up,” Kamil said.

  “Glad we have you to protect us from the big bad grannies,” another mocked.

  Kamil grumbled something, but we were far enough away that I couldn’t hear what he said.

  We passed the tavern with the mug sign and kept walking. I wanted to get far away from them in case Kamil changed his mind.

  Kasia’s quick thinking had prevented the situation from escalating, and I was glad I’d brought her along. Guess it wasn’t just her relying on me to keep her safe. We kept each other safe. Perhaps not every situation was best solved by a bullet to the face?

  It was probably also time to rethink my whole shooting a couple of inquisitors and running away really fast plan. I doubted that would work with Kasia there. Especially not if we also had sheep with us.

  Coming here may not have been my brightest idea, and I felt a little bad that I had put Kasia at risk. But since we were here now I also didn’t want to leave empty handed. Maybe Vasil’s idea of checking out a quest board hadn’t been so stupid after all. Maybe I could find a quest that would give me some levels or goodies. Preferably both.

  “Vasil,” I whispered. “Where would the quest board be?”

  "Some inns have them," he said quietly from the satchel. "The bigger ones, usually. More traffic means more people posting quests and more adventurers looking for work. It's a natural meeting point. Travelers need rooms, food, and something to do while they're in town. The larger the inn, the better the board tends to be."

  "Makes sense."

  "Though sometimes the rougher establishments attract more... combat-oriented clientele. Mercenaries, sellswords, that sort. Those boards tend to have higher-paying work, if you don't mind the company."

  I nodded. "Okay. So biggest inn, or roughest inn."

  "Essentially."

  I turned to Kasia. "Ask someone where the best quest board in town is."

  She blinked. "Me?"

  "Yeah. You're less suspicious. Go ahead."

  She hesitated for a moment, then nodded and walked up to a woman inspecting carrots outside a shop. I stayed where I was, while Kasia asked her question as politely as possible.

  The woman pointed down the street, and Kasia came back a moment later.

  “She said The Lemon Fiddler is the biggest inn in town. It has food, rooms, everything. It’s down that way, past the blacksmith.”

  The Lemon Fiddler? What a stupid name. Someone obviously was trying—and failing—to be funny.

  I shook my head. “Alright. Let’s try that one, see if we can get a room and some food. Check out the quests. And let’s stop by the blacksmith on the way.”

  I started walking again, keeping my pace steady and my head down. If there was a quest board waiting for me, I wanted to see it before someone else decided my mask looked “ungodly”, and if I was going to have to use the ugly grandma excuse again I’d better move like one.

  “We should get me a cane or something,” I said.

  “Why?” Kasia asked.

  "Because I'm your hideous, smelly grandmother now. I need to embrace the character. Method acting."

  "Not all old people use canes."

  "This one does. This particular ugly old granny is very decrepit. Probably has a hunchback too."

  "You're not hunched."

  "I will be. Watch." I hunched my shoulders slightly. "See? Crone mode activated."

  Vasil sighed from the satchel.

  "What?" I asked. "This is a good cover. No one suspects the elderly."

  He didn’t respond.

  I leaned harder into it, letting out a dramatic groan. “Ohhh dearie me. Me old back. Me hip. Cursed by the gods and abandoned by youth.”

  Kasia pressed her lips together, shoulders shaking, clearly trying very hard not to laugh.

  I pointed a finger at her. "No respect for the elderly! Laughing at your poor old, feeble grandmother. I raised you myself after your mother abandoned you, and this is how you repay me? Ohhhhh..."

  She lost it, covering her mouth as she laughed.

  "Ungrateful child," I muttered, hunching even more dramatically. "In my day, we respected our elders."

  “Is this your way of not attracting attention?” Vasil asked.

  I pretended not to hear him. “Go on dearie, give your malodorous old grandma an arm so we can head to the blacksmith. Help me cross the street before my bones turn to dust.”

  I let out a long, theatrical wheeze. “Back in my day, children rushed to help the elderly. Now they just laugh and let us crumble. It's a blessing my dear departed husband isn't alive to witness such disrespect. He'd be rolling in his grave. Rolling, I tell you!"

  Kasia, still snickering, slipped her arm through mine. "Come on, grandma."

  We started down the street at an exaggerated shuffle. I made sure to hunch a little more with each step, really selling it. Sometimes I’d even throw in a grandmotherly “owwww” for authenticity. After what felt like an eternity of hobbling, we reached a sign with an anvil wearing what appeared to be leather pants painted on it.

  I squinted up at it. "Is that... are those pants? An anvil with pants… that’s a new one."

  “Looks like it,” Kasia said.

  Vasil peeked out of the satchel. “Maybe they also sell leatherworks here?”

  A blacksmith selling leatherworks? Was that even possible? That would be like a baker selling shoes.

  “My curiosity has been piqued,” I said as I shuffled up to the door.

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