For four months, Roland was a faithful Shackled with a spotless name among the deft-delvers. The gathered twice the quota of hewn stone each shift, though there was no prize or pay for reward. Indeed, the only trace of his past stubbornness showed when he still let Mia have the bed to herself and went back to sleeping on the stone seat as soon as his body was whole enough to do so.

  At no time did the knight share reasons for why he took so earnestly to their set task in the mine. It was a zeal well beyond a mere wish to dodge another thrashing. Nor did it fit one who yet held out hope to see the surface.

  All the while, Roland remained level one. As was usual among new captives. Only the oldest of those born in the pit ever reached level five—below the might of their weakest keepers. And without any gear, even a full prison uprising would never be able to drive off nine watchmen and the chief keeper.

  Roland mined. Mia tended to any wounds and performed her various other tasks between shifts. The guards cordoned off all floors sixth and hire, that sturdier wooden barricade now out of reach of anyone.

  Then, four and a half months after that fateful beating…

  Mia was tending to the dire-scorpionbee nests, gathering their honey to help feed the gaol, when Roland came in to find her.

  “Good morrow, m’lord.” Mia dipped her head, as was usual. “You seemest…” The healer’s voice trailed off softly. The former squire’s stats were laid bare by the Menu:

  “Oh, by the Demon Lord!” Mia swore. “To have risen so swiftly… have there been many dire-cockroaches down in the mines?”

  Roland shook his head with a gleaming toothy grin. He pulled out a whispy trinket alight with a dull white glow…

  … and right after Mia registered this description in her Interface, Roland smashed the Bauble.

  One more item like that and this initiate Shackled would be level three. Almost caught up to long-stayer Mia already!

  "You... you shouldn't have brought that," Mia said. "You shouldn't have even left the mine without turning in your goods. They can see your goods in the Inventory. You... you should go back."

  The Shackled grenzritter said naught, simply called forth his Inventory and drew out another trinket:

  Fifty experience points. Fifty. Experience points. Enough for even Mia to level up with just one use.

  “Trade. It’s yours.”

  Mia glanced about. No demon gaolers were here. Their jailers wouldn’t know. Unless…

  “You’re… so close to leveling up again,” she said. “Too much, and the Demons will notice…”

  “But they won’t notice a nearly twenty-eight-year-old healer rising from level three to four.” Roland held the Bauble aloft. “C’mon. Take it. It’s yours.”

  Tentatively, with some small amount of built-in guilt, Mia opened her trade window.

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  Roland grinned madly.

  “Go on.”

  “I’ll… I’ll do it.” Mia pulled her Interface up once more.

  Stat spread was dull for a healer. But experience rushed through her nonetheless. It would have taken another year and a half to gather the remaining fifty experience with her current tasks.

  "Oh…" Mia stifled a groan. "That feeling. I’d forgotten…"

  It had been four years since she’d gained that third level. The feeling of newfound might coursing through her blood hit her all at once. She ended up hugging Roland without a word from the Menu.

  “Thank thee, good sir,” she said, breathless.

  “I’ve got a dozen smaller ones in my Inventory right now.” Roland flashed coffers full of level-up Baubles and hewed stone. “Want to go for level five?”

  Mia looked at the treasure horde with great longing. Temptuous sensations of a new stat boost lured her in. Yet still she turned.

  “You… shouldn’t. One level here and there can slip under the notice of the Demon Sentries. But the Warden will notice more than one in a single day or even a month. You need to… seek ways to conceal them, at the very least. Or turn them in…”

  How would their Demonic jailers react to this find? All Inventories were to be traded to the sentries at shift’s end. All discoveries were to be shown to the demons immediately.

  “About that.” Roland began. “I have an idea. But I need your help.”

  Squire Roland elicited his designated healer and paired cellmate’s help finding someone to assist with their new treasure hoard.

  There were another two hours until the next shift. Two hours more before it came time to trade in the quarry of stone. Roland had worked fast, more than meeting quota, so at least his sneaking out of the mines would not bring about another disciplinary beating.

  Instead, the healer and squire journeyed to a forsaken wing of the oubliette. The stone here was too sturdy for prisoners of such low level to break through in a quick manner.

  Dull cloth blended in well enough with the walls. And it was paltry enough not to warrant designation under the Menu. A natural camouflage. Mia pulled the curtain back.

  Hiding in a natural divot in the wall sat a slovenly-looking fellow. He had not shaved since the day he was thrown into this hole.

  “What’re you buyin’?” the smuggler asked. He had a gleam in his eye. “Oh, one of the capos? Is this a raid? Or are you desperate for smuggled goods now?”

  Gustavo was a thief and conman from a distant land. He was caught trying to deliver unauthorized, Interface-compatible wares into the oubliette with a cunning, uncrewed glider. The first try struck the side of the spire and fell to some far cliff, lost. The second glider managed to ferry contraband goods into the gaol. And the third one was caught by a flying demon in midair and Gustavo was Shackled and thrown into the oubliette by nightfal. All who accepted this contraband within the prison were executed. This was back when Mia was about eighteen, and she’d scarcely seen Gustavo since.

  Not to fall into dismay by being bound through the Shackles and thrown into a gaol none ever returned from, Gustavo had simply taken up the newly-vacant role of a smuggler from the inside. A humble pile of contraband, and things not provided by their demonic gaolers, sat around his abode.

  “We’re hoping you could take a little something off our hands,” Roland said. “At least for a time. I need to hide it from the jailers.”

  “Oh?” Gustavo called up his trade menu. “Hand it over for appraisal.”

  “There’s eleven more where that came from.”

  “Oh. Well, I’ve found a few of these in my time.” Gustavo ‘used’ his Particularly Heavy Flagon, taking a big swig. “They seem to form embedded in harder grades of rock. Demons will pay for even one with triple the monthly rations.”

  Mia gasped. “Is that so?”

  Their gaolers were seldom so generous. These must be truly precious to warrant triple rations.

  “Will you take most of them into your inventory? We’d appreciate it if you don’t pawn them out,” Roland said.

  Gustavo chuckled. “Oh, would I deceive you? Just let me take my parts and labor fee…”

  “Ahhh. Tastes like poultry.” Gustavo licked his lips, punctuating the demonkin loanword for a rare prison delicacy with a smack of the lips. “Hand over the goods. I’ll keep perfect care of them.”

  With a grimace, Roland opened, then completed, the trade.

  “Eleven little baubles, all in a row…” Gustavo halted. He looked at his interface, the brand on his left cheek glowing. “Hey. What is this?”

  He presented his Menu:

  “Oh? Didn’t know?” Roland said with a faint grin.

  “What’s this? How’d you do that?” Gustavo said, fiercely jabbing at his Interface.

  “While on the mend from various beatings.” Roland gave Mia a warm smile. “I discovered you can personally lock items set aside for private use. Even when traded.”

  “That’s cheating!”

  “It’s part of the Interface. Would be an important part, but I suppose our demonic captors don’t want us learning too much about how these Shackles work.” Roland rubbed at his neck brand. “Keep them secret. Keep them safe. I’ll be bringing more of them daily, or trading with Mia here so she can do it.”

  Gustavo glowered at the healer, but still addressed Roland: “You trust this capo?”

  “Stockpile. Hoard…” Roland began.

  “What are you, a dire-dragon?” Gustavo laughed, more jocular this time.

  “… Organize. Distribute. Level up.” Roland’s lips angled upward.

  “Make a play for the outside?” Gustavo leaned back in his chair. “Need hooks to reach the oubliette trap door. Unless you want to jump out of that hole on floor six again.”

  “There’s a guard entrance,” Roland said. “Just need the keys before our jailers lock the place down.”

  A tingling feeling flittered at the edge of Mia’s slave garb. Too late, she swatted at the cause.

  “Eek!” Mia held her hand aloft.

  “Naught that a Basic Heal won’t mend.” Mia smiled grimly.

  Roland struck back with a Unique Skill: 'Swat', utterly smashing the dire-wasp.

  “Together, we can beat them,” the squire said, punctuating the attack.