The party quickly devised the plan based on the presumed structure of the interior, alongside a sequence of actions once they were inside. That took another fifteen minutes.

  After they were done, Ducaz tapped on the wooden side of the wagon and said, “Good luck, guys. I’ll stay behind and make sure the wagon is still in the same place and Mr. Horsey here is well fed.”

  “I’ve wanted to ask… what’s your part in this besides enchanting Blorbo?” Lena raised a brow.

  “You paid me 287 shillings. You expect me to break the Watcher’s spell for you and break into a mansion that looks like a castle? I’ve done my part. Masking magic, the enchanted inlays, and my personal touch.”

  I mean, he’s right.

  Nobody argued further. Time was of the essence.

  Rob and Lena climbed off the wagon. Lena adjusted her slightly magical cloak (which she didn’t have on her and borrowed from Ducaz) and gave Blorbo a side-eye. “You better not fall apart on me, or you’ll be the one cleaning up this mess.”

  Anders said, “Remember, Lena, you’re just pretending to be a servant. Don’t get too ambitious.”

  Lena shot him a wink. “I know, I know. I’ll just stay charming and play it cool. Servants love to gossip, so they’ll know for sure I’m a servant the moment I run my mouth.” Rob sighed even before she managed to finish the sentence.

  Servants don’t do anything, Lena! They just work.

  They reached the gates where a pair of guards stood in full armor, eyes scanning anyone who approached. The tall stone walls of the barony loomed behind them, and the sound of expensive music drifted from within.

  With his best “trust me” smile, Rob stepped forward and raised a hand to the guards. “Hello there! We’re here to deliver this fine piece of furniture,” he said in a voice that probably sounded way more confident than it should have.

  Lena, standing behind Blorbo with absolute nonchalance, added, “Yes, the finest piece of furniture. A table of incredible value, of course.” Her version of nonchalance included a dramatic eye roll and a weird-looking wave.

  The first guard, who looked like he could bench press a wagon, squinted at Blorbo, then up at Rob, then back down at the table. “A table, huh? Looks a bit... fancy for just some delivery. I didn’t see this in the Baron’s orders.”

  Lena, quick on her feet, straightened her back and waved a hand dismissively. “Because it shouldn’t be! The Baron has ordered it in secret because is is no ordinary table! This is the latest piece in the Baron’s collection, hand-crafted by the finest artisans of the north.” She raised her chin. “Made of the rarest woods, enchanted by a top-tier mage... it’s practically a family heirloom.” Good, good lie. Don’t go into too much detail that they can pick apart. “This is comparable to the hand-crafted table of the House of Muzin themselves.” She then went into too much detail that they can pick apart.

  Both guards AND Rob turned to her.

  Lena’s smile was as smooth as butter. “The House of Muzin. Yes, you’ve heard of them, right?” she began. “Oh, you haven’t? You know, one of the most prestigious family in the north. House Muzin, makers of the finest furniture, renowned artisans of centuries! Their reputation precedes them, as you would expect.”

  Rob blinked at her. “Lena—”

  “No, no,” she continued, her hands moving in extravagant gestures. “The House of Muzin, for generations, was known for one thing: their impeccable taste in furniture. And, of course, they’ve always had a secret. It’s an heirloom collection they’ve kept hidden from the world. The collection of Really Good-Looking Furniture, it’s called. This table,” she pointed dramatically at Blorbo, “is the last remaining piece of that collection. Only the highest of lords are allowed to own such a piece. They only come out during... well, special times. And, naturally, the Baron has just commissioned it. It’s his latest acquisition.”

  “We have never heard of such a House,” guard number one said. “Have you, Sebastia?”

  “No,” guard number two shook his head.

  “Do you know the story of the first Lord Muzin?” she asked, her voice filled with an almost sacred reverence. Rob’s face dropped.

  She forged ahead. “Lord Muzin was a great patron of the arts, and in his will, he made one request: that the greatest tables in the land be made from a special wood called the Silver-Fir, only found in the lost woodlands of the Lumnith Forest. This table is made from that very wood, and only a select few have ever seen one.”

  I don’t think any of these names are real.

  The guards were now visibly shifting, their eyes narrowing as they tried to keep up. A Quest icon showed up atop her head. Blorbo could not click on it in time before Lena started speaking again.

  “But, ah, let me tell you more,” she pressed on with fervor. “The Silver-Fir wood is not just rare! Calling it rare is an insult to its rarity. Its sap was believed to be imbued with magic, and it was said that only those with pure intentions could carve it. Now, a special commission for the Baron had to be made because the Lord Muzin had made a request upon his deathbed. He wanted this piece specifically to pass on a legacy of power to whoever sat at it.” She paused, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper. “I’m not sure if the Baron even knows the true power of this table, but I am certain it’s what will make his reign unshakable. We’re only delivering it under strict orders. I hope you understand the importance of this piece.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  QUEST AVAILABLE: The Babblemaster

  Oh, good, good! Let me shut her trap. I can’t have her ruining our mission before we enter the gate.

  Then he read the objective.

  Objective: Convince everyone of Lena’s lies.

  Reward: +100 EXP, +27 Proficiency for Forked Tongue

  Prerequisite: Must have Forked Tongue (You can accept this quest).

  Failure: You all look like idiots.

  Accept: YES/NO

  I have to FURTHER her lies? HOW? I am not a creature of lies; I am a creature of dignity. I have never, and will never lie once in my life.

  A quest is a quest.

  As long as it did not have a real failure condition, Blorbo would accept. Also, Proficiency? That pretty much confirmed that there was a hidden, potentially trackable grinding system for separate skills. Blorbo just didn’t know where to look for it.

  The first guard stepped forward, hands on the hilt of the sword on his belt. “Okay, Miss. You’ll have to—”

  An elegant voice rang out from behind them, “That’s a damn good-looking table. Why are you standing here with it?”

  All three of them froze, and guard number two nearly fell over in surprise. Turning around, they saw a woman walking past—tall, dignified, with an air of royalty about her. She was dressed in rich-looking robes and so much jewelry on her that te whatever sunlight it had caught from the dying sunset turned her into a living candle.

  “First Lady of the Baron!” Guard number one immediately called out.