Calling All Adventurers: S2 E3 - Born to Run

S2 Episode 3: Born To Run

Intro & News

Calling all adventurers, I repeat, calling all adventurers.

I hope you're all doing well this evening. Campfires started and bedrolls laid out? Good.

No jobs today but we've got some news:

ADVENTURERS UNCOVER BARON OF HIGHMERE'S CRIMINAL EMPIRE

We've got an update on Highmere. Last week I mentioned that Baron Edrick of Highmere has been suspected of misusing taxes. Well, what began as a goodwill mission from an adventuring party to assist locals with road maintenance has erupted into a scandal, after the group uncovered a list of crimes committed by the Baron.

According to confiscated ledgers, eyewitness testimonies, and recovered letters, the baron has:

• Laundered tax gold through fake "escort contracts" with mercenary companies that don't exist.

• Accepted bribes from outlaws in exchange for lenience and "Look-the-other-way" road patrols.

• Smuggled stolen relics from Highmere Chapel.

• Run an illegal debtors' prison beneath his estate and sold forced labour to nearby lords.

The adventurers turned over the evidence to the local magistrate, though townsfolk are sceptical as to whether or not justice will be served, as the Baron has allies in the courts who are, and I quote, "numerous and well-fed."

If the Baron is somehow acquitted of the crimes of we know he is guilty of, then I'm quite sure that justice will find another way to reach him.

In other news,

BUSINESSES WITHIN THE MERCHANTS' GUILD REPORT RECORD PROFITS, CUT 30% OF THEIR WORKFORCE

The two highest earning businesses within the Elarian Merchant's Guild conglomerate proudly declared their "strongest quarter yet," boasting record-breaking profits. Controversy has sparked as this announcement comes off the back of announced mass layoffs, slashed wages, and apprentices being required to "pay their own training fees" despite labouring 14-hour days.

Meanwhile, customers are suffering from aggressive "cost saving measures," from diluted health potions to smaller loaves of bread. When asked about these measures, Guildmaster Veynar stated "the economy is facing hard times and that effects everyone the same. It's not easy out there," while climbing into his new gilded carriage.

Well, enough of that doom and gloom for now. It's story time, let's pick up a bit after we left off last session.

Story Start

[Music]

[SFX thunder and night-time nature sounds]

Host: "So, I said I'm not interested in whatever stupid boring shit you're doing. You suck, and I couldn't care less about you or it. And then he just got mad at me for no reason. He's so dramatic."

[Doug snoring]

Host: "Y'know being unconscious is no excuse for being a bad conversationalist, Doug. You should probably visit a clinic after this and make sure I didn't do too much permanent damage."

Doug, or whatever his real name was, was out cold. Probably shouldn't have cornered me alone. Should you, Doug? I looked toward a window, which let me see around the corner and down the alley through the reflection. A clear view of the clocktower. I'd been hiding there for about four hours by that point. I was bored as anything.

Host: "Are you guys gonna give up at all? How would you even know I am still in the city? I guess you're all probably watching the stations and gates. Urgh, annoying. The size of the COBALT presence here is astonishing. You guys must be the primary criminal organisation around here. This was not a fun first visit to-"

[Cobalt Agents running down the alleyway]

Host: "Wait. Shut up a second, Doug. Someone's coming."

COBALT 2: "We haven't checked down here yet. Come on."

Host: "Damn. Time to bolt."

I spun around and began climbing up some old crates. I made it onto the roof when I heard-

COBALT 2: "There he is! Alert the others!"

[SFX arrow thunk]

An arrow cracked a roof tile right beside me. Those morons were actually going to kill me. Breaking into a full sprint, I heard them climbing up the same boxes to get to the roof. I couldn't get a good look, but I saw about 15 guys there. That wasn't fantastic news.

[SFX rain begins]

Host: "And now it's raining. Of course it is."

I weaved around chimneys and bounded over firewalls separating roofs. If I stayed moving and obscured my form as much as possible, they couldn't hit me.

Though what came next was a problem.

A dead end. I was approaching a street and swiftly running out of roof.

I could turn and fight, but I didn't know if I was skilled enough to beat them without them getting me or without accidentally killing one of them. I didn't want to take either risk.

I knew what I had to do.

Host: "This is insane. Here we go!"

[SFX jump and crash]

Host: “Holy shit. I made it. What's the matter? Lost your bottle? Are those grappling hooks? Oh, shit."

Back to my feet. I had to keep running. Although I wasn't used to distance running, I was keeping ahead of my pursuers. It felt like my heart would explode at any moment. Yet my body felt light and springy, as though I could lose my tether to the ground beneath my feet with each step.

Powering on, I picked up speed. I knew I had to keep the clocktower in view. The hour hand rapidly approached 11 and I felt a slight comfort in knowing I only had to keep it up a little while longer. I was busy remarking upon the fact I'd done quite well, when the circumstances changed.

I reached the tinplate roof of what I thought was a warehouse. Without accounting for foot placement or the roof's weathered state, I tried to run across.

[SFX crashing, lots of crashing]

The roof disappeared beneath me, my vision spiralled, and I suffered several heavy blows to my body as I crashed through the roofing. Then I crashed through what felt like more roofing, then finally hit the ground in a puddle of rainwater and debris.

I laid there for a few moments, as my brain decided whether or not I'd fall unconscious. An intense pain radiated from my left shoulder, which had taken the brunt of my landing. I gripped my left bicep and rolled onto my back to look up at the cloudy night sky through the me-shaped hole in the ceiling. I couldn't help but remark on how I was still alive and largely uninjured.

Or so I thought.

[The Host yells in pain]

Pounding pain ripped through me when I tried to move my left arm.

My fingers, wrist, and elbow were unusable. That wasn't good, my entire left arm was dead.

Slowly, I pulled myself to my feet. I was back on ground level.

COBALT 2: "There he is. Down there!"

Host: "Awh, are you kidding me?"

I stumbled out of their line of sight, into the dark. There was a wooden door in my way which I swiftly kicked clean off its hinges. Jolting like that hurt my shoulder; so much I thought I'd cry out again, but I stifled myself.

Breaking back into a limping jog, I moved through alleyways and backstreets into an increasingly abandoned and run-down part of the city.

With the rain, the shoulder, and the exhaustion, I knew I needed to take a break soon and sort myself out. I turned a corner and entered another derelict building with light footsteps, unwilling to make any more sound.

Not that it did any good. Crossing the threshold, I turned toward a missing wall with a COBALT member looking right at me. He'd just stood up from a chair next to a wooden table covered in maps of the city and its districts.

He froze. I froze.

I can imagine how I must have looked. Dishevelled, soaked, limping, mask and big coat donned. Obfuscated by the dark of the room’s corner.

And he was just a boy. Couldn't yet have seen his 17th winter.

I must have appeared as a devil. So I figured I'd use that to buy myself a second to breathe, and try to talk him down.

Host: "You're going to want to scream for help. Don't."

COBALT Recruit: "Why not? If I do, you'll kill me. If I don't, you'll kill me. If I yell, at least they'll know where you are and they might get you afterwards."

Host: "If you stay quiet, I won't harm a hair on your head. Of this, you've my word."

COBALT Recruit: "Why should I believe you? You put 6 of us in the clinic."

Host: "Yet not a single casualty. Not quite the body count you'd wish to attribute to me, eh? I know it would be easier to imagine me a monster, to soothe your conscience; freeing you to enact whatever ills you wish upon me in the name of your greater good. Yet, I am no monster, and neither are you. We can both walk away from this place and forget we ever met."

COBALT Recruit: "It would dishonour me."

Host: "Dishonour you? Where is the dishonour in sparing life? You would speak to me of dishonour when your men try to sacrifice a train full of innocents yet here I seek to save two more and you hesitate? Truly bold."

Finally, and for but a second, his gaze broke from mine before locking back into place. He was thinking about something, but I could only hope it was about letting me go. When a sour expression flickered across his countenance, I knew I hadn't been so lucky.

COBALT Recruit: (Yelling) "HE'S HE-"

[The Host grabs him]

Before he could finish, my hand was wrapped around the lower half of his face. Fingers dug painfully into his jawbone, clamping it shut.

I already knew I was too late, and when the sound of jackboots rose from outside, it all but confirmed it.

Keeping his face in my hand, I manoeuvred him to act as a shield.

Seconds later, there was a gathering crowd of COBALT on the other side of the missing wall.

Host: "Stand back, or I'll tear him apart."

Swords drawn, they were showing no signs of backing down as they approached a slow step at a time. I should have known they wouldn't care about their friend. A foolish gambit on my part.

Host: "Hey, I'm not fucking around. Back off-"

[Cobalt Recruit bites]

I felt teeth sink into my hand.

Host: "Argh! No biti-"

[SFX arrow hitting flesh] [The Host grunts in pain]

An agonising pain burst forth from near my right hip. It hit so fast that it stunned me into silence. I glanced down to the arrow sticking forth from my side.

I looked back up at the foggy street, unable to see who in the crowd had even taken the shot. And watching them cluelessly inspect each other, it was clear that they didn't know either.

The confusion had affected us both, but I had to make sure I was the one to utilise it properly. I'd been shot, and I couldn't waste another second.

I stepped forward, gripped the table with my usable hand and threw the entire thing at the group. The second it had left my hand, I turned, jumped, bunched up and smashed clean through a shuttered window. I landed amongst splinters on the wet cobblestone street.

The pain in my hip and shoulder was unbelievable. Each movement was excruciating, I felt my abdominal muscles grind against the arrowhead imbedded in my flesh, but it didn't stop me. Adrenaline flooded my system and I broke into a sprint. I was determined to lose them this time.

I must have run for 5 solid minutes. There was no chance they'd be tracking my blood trail in those dark, rainswept streets.

This time, I ran in one direction, smashed a bathroom window of a random house, reached in to steal a towel from it and used it to pack my wound. I threw a loose brick into the back door of another further down, then I doubled back. I made it appear as though I was heading out of the area but I, in fact, began moving further into the belly of that same broken district.

The arrow was still imbedded, preventing me from losing too much blood, but I was still losing some. I was getting weaker, my footsteps becoming less balanced. I had to find a way to patch myself up.

Eventually, I stumbled upon another derelict house, tucked away under a bridge that connected two upper districts several meters above. Rotting wood with clear structural damage, no front door and the shutters were hanging loosely from the window frames. But it had a roof and I didn't have the luxury of being picky. I was far enough away from those hunting me that my surroundings had finally gotten quiet. I couldn't hear them shouting anymore. I still had a clear view of the clocktower at the centre of the neighbourhood: 10:55.

I moved inside.

The interior was dry and the building had all its necessary walls, even if they were bending a little under the weight. The support beam in the room I first entered was doing its best to keep the place standing.

In the middle of the space, there was a solid oak table in surprisingly good condition. There was only one good chair out of the six in the room, the rest had broken backs, legs, or were little more than splinters. Against the wall to my left sat a large stone hearth. Beside it was a large bellow with a broken nozzle and a shattered cauldron. I could only guess what the previous tenants had been cooking to break cast iron.

On the wall I had entered through, the iron curtain rod had half fallen, leaving shredded drapes crumpled on the floor, barely covering the window. To my right, there was a doorway to another room that held little more than a broken armoire and a half destroyed bookshelf.

I stumbled back to the first room. I needed to get back in control of the situation. I needed to get that thing out of me and patch myself up.

Break

We've got a job here.

BOG LIGHT COLLECTOR NEEDED

Billamore Barrows Swamp lights have been growing brighter in the region. Experienced handlers required to wade through waist-deep muck and bottle them. Pay is good, but it comes with a warning not to "join the lights."

We've also got a question from a listener.

Mirian from Ardross asks: "Are you alone at The Tower Array?"

A thoughtful question Mirian, but you needn't worry as I am not alone. In fact, it's gotten quite busy around here. Ever since I started up The Tower's broadcast, I have become slightly inundated with adventurers looking to meet me and ask about training them. I gave them permission to set up camps here, but there's talk of building more permanent homes. If things continue, this may become the first adventurers' town in time.

Wouldn't that be a sight?

Alright, enough chatter, back to the story!

Story Resume

Dropping my mask on the table, I moved over to the wooden support column and flung my limp arm round it, catching my wrist with my right hand. The pain was nauseating, but I couldn't stop now. With the newfound purchase, I pulled away from my own arm and shifted, slotting the joint back into place.

Hot pain rolled through me, then reduced a great deal as I felt the blood flow return to my arm. I took a moment to very gently flex my fingers, wrist, elbow and shoulder. I had regained painful movement, but I couldn't use that shoulder recklessly until I could get hold of that health potion again.

I hated that I needed it. I'd have given anything to heal quickly, but that was not my luck.

I could daydream about what-ifs another time, I still had work to do.

Slowly, I took off my coat, harness, and belt, laying them on the table next to my mask. I cut strips of fabric from the curtains, and threw them into the fireplace with some parts of the broken chairs as kindling; then used the dagger to shave tinder from the edge of the table.

Retrieving flint and steel from a pouch on my harness, I began lighting a fire.

Thankfully, the wood in there was nice and dry, and the flames caught quickly. Within a few minutes, a blazing fire was warming the room, and heating the tip of my dagger.

The arrow was still lodged in my stomach. I wasn't sure how much damage it had already done, but I knew I needed to remove it immediately. I couldn't risk an infection.

Illuminated by firelight, I laid back on the last good chair, attempting to ignore that one of the legs was shorter than the others.

I needed to get access to the wound. Gripping the shaft of the arrow, I braced myself.

[Shallow breaths and a grunt]

I broke off the fletching and a good portion of the arrows length.

Then, I slipped my shirt off of the broken shaft before taking it off.

I inspected the wound.

Host: "Yep, that's definitely in there."

I wasn't very familiar with the lengths of arrows at that point, so I wasn't sure how deep it had gone. I also didn't know if the arrow was barbed, but I doubted it.

I knew the right thing to do was to push the arrow through, but I'll admit, I was scared to do so. If it wasn't that deep, I'd wind up doing way more damage than when it first stuck me.

What to do?

Ainsley: "Good evening."

Host: "What the fuck?"

I turned to see a silhouette standing just outside the doorway. I didn't hear them approach, which was weird enough by itself, but what made it all the stranger was I could barely feel they were there, even while looking at them.

Ainsley: "You appear to be in a spot of trouble. Do you need any assistance?"

I couldn't make out any of their countenance. I stood up and closed a bit of the distance to inspect them.

Host: "Who are you?"

The figure stepped forward, close to the doorway, but was careful not to enter.

Ainsley: "My name is Ainsley. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

A human? Perhaps a half elf? Slender and tall, they were dressed in black and red opulent clothing with gold accents. A hat with a brim as wide as their shoulders sat upon their long brown locks. Their attire was immaculate. They clearly hadn't travelled far to be in a part of town they didn't belong in.

Their presentation appeared androgenous. I would later learn it was purposefully so.

Ainsley: "I'm here with my companions. We would like to enter your abode."

The figure gestured to three other similarly clothed figures standing behind them.

Host: "Sorry, Ainsley. This place isn't safe. Building might come down any moment. Wouldn't want you caught in that."

Ainsley: "We seek shelter from the rain. And this seems as good a place as any. Much of this city is unwelcoming."

I stopped fussing with my wound and walked closer. Just outside of arm's reach.

I'm not stupid. I knew the second Ainsley first spoke up that they were looking for me. But why weren't they just coming in to get me?

I tried to cover my obvious concern with bravado. By not barging in to attack me, they had given me a clue. I suspected I knew well what these people, and Ainsley, were.

I'd heard stories, of course, everyone has. Night creatures that look near indistinguishable from regular folk, hunting innocents to drain their blood in the dark recesses of civilisation. To the hells with my luck, I was staring down a full-fledged family of vampires.

Host: "You sent by COBALT? I wonder why you haven't just entered this abode. Perhaps, you can't? Perhaps due to ancient laws of hospitality? What's the matter, leech? Need an invite?"

Ainsley: "Not the most gracious of hosts, are you?"

Host: "I ain't hosting shit, least of all you four!"

An expression of bewildered amusement flickered across Ainsley's face.

Ainsley: "We aren't with COBALT. We are here as a favour for someone much more powerful."

Host:"…Helar."

Ainsley: "Oh, have you met?"

Host: "Never had the pleasure, but I'm sure we are going to become fast friends any minute now."

I turned away, and shuffled back to the chair.

Host: "How long have you been after me?"

Ainsley: "We were contacted earlier today but only got to work after sundown; you know how it is. Followed the ruckus you've left in your wake, and been hot on your trail since my companion put that arrow in you. Tracking blood is our specialty, after all. [deep sniff] And what potent blood it is."

No wonder I didn't see who stuck me. I thought it an unnaturally good shot.

Host: "So, what? You've been commandeered to kill me?"

Ainsley: "No. For whatever reason, it's been requested that we make you a thrall."

For a moment, my mind went blank and a molten core of white-hot fury formed in my chest, clawing its way up my throat.

I could handle the threat of death, but making me a thrall?

I couldn't handle the thought of losing myself. Losing my mind. Becoming a husk for the will of others. It filled me with such painful, desperate hatred that I couldn't breathe.

Ainsley: "Oh, by Ylios' fire! I can feel that, you know? Don't like what I have to say?"

No! I had to keep control of myself. Stay calm, keep learning.

Host: "Why enslavement? Why not death?"

Ainsley: "That's not for me to know."

Host: "Well, why don't you take a fucking guess?"

Ainsley: "Hmmm. If I had to, it would probably be to teach you a lesson. Can't learn a lesson when you're dead. Also, from what I've gathered, you've proven quite a clever boy. So, why waste the resource?"

Fuck that sky high. I'd die before becoming anyone's slave. I needed to buy time.

Host: "I have laid claim to this house under the Law of Temporary Abode. Upon lighting of the first fire in an unoccupied house. I am the legal tenant until morning, and you aren't getting in without an invitation."

Ainsley: "Oh, quite familiar with the ancient edicts are you? Well, I hope you are interested in the specifics. It's only night until 11:59:59. The second the clock strikes midnight-"

Host: "It's morning again."

Ainsley: "Exactly. You have—" 

Ainsley retrieved a timepiece from their waistcoat pocket with a gloved hand and glanced at it.

Ainsley: "-approximately 55 minutes. I wonder how you expect to get out of this in the shape you're in."

I looked toward the clocktower. Ainsley was right, I had 55 minutes to think of something, or they would get inside and as strong as I was, I didn't think I'd stand much of a chance against four full-bloods.

I'd have to start thinking about that as soon as that arrow was out of me. Back to work.

I leant back in the chair and gripped the arrow shaft.

Hesitation is death.

[Host’s shallow breaths]

[Host cries out in pain]

Ainsley: "Hey, don't waste that."

I packed a clean part of the towel I'd stolen against the wound and inspected the arrow. It appeared to be intact. No broken parts lodged in my gut and I was thankful. I didn't have the tools on hand to fish it out.

I had been right in thinking it hadn't gone far in. Dense muscle must have stopped it short but I'd still been lucky where it hit me, very low chance of internal bleeding or any punctured organs.

Taking the dagger I'd left in the fireplace, I prepared myself.

The glowing tip of the blade hung over my open wound, the dread of what I was about to do made me nauseous.

It had to be done, or I'd never make it out of there.

[Host’s shallow breaths, SFX hiss of burning flesh]

[The Host yells]

[Dagger dropping to the floor, heavy breathing]

It took legitimate effort not to cry. I was exhausted, wounded, frustrated, and that was one of the most painful things I'd ever experienced. It wasn't so much the heat, as I'm pretty sure the top nerves melted almost instantly. It was pressing into an open wound that really sucked.

Ainsley: "That looked like it hurt."

Host: "Nah, no problem."

Ainsley: "You're tough, aren't you? I can smell the strength in your blood, fresh and youthful. But there's—

[Ainsley sniffs] 

—something else in there too."

My eyes flickered to my wrist. Could they smell the Black Dog? Impossible. It's not like the blade was actually inside me.

Host: "What are you talking about?"

Ainsley's lips parted into a broad toothy smile.

Ainsley: "Your blood. When you get to my age, you can tell what heritage blood belongs to and you, for all intents and purposes are a mongrel."

Host: "Rude."

Ainsley: "Hey, don't feel bad. You're an interesting one. I'm getting, mmm, rich with a deep and complex flavour profile. I'm detecting hints of Dwarf, notes of Elf, and something else that I just can’t pinpoint."

I had no idea what they were talking about but I will not pretend to you, dear listener, that I was not absolutely shitting myself. Ainsley was successfully getting in my head about it all. Things were starting to feel bleak, and I was running on a high of success at that point. If my confidence in my survival was knocked, then I'd lose momentum and be all but got.

I needed to focus. I needed to prepare, and try to get in their heads in return. I put my shirt back on and started gathering wood and fabrics from around the room.

Host: "So, I read that vampires aren't easy to kill."

Ainsley: "People wouldn't tolerate us if we were."

Host: "You couldn't have travelled far to get on my trail on such short notice, so you must be locals."

Ainsley: "Solumm native from day one. Born here, died here, reborn here. What of it?"

Host: "You kill a lot of people around here when you feed?"

Something about Ainsley changed for a few moments, as they answered the question. A lot of the façade dropped for a second as they gave a surprisingly sincere answer.

Ainsley: "I know this is going to be hard for you to believe, and why would you given your situation? But no. It's not exactly altruism that stays my hand. People are far more likely to tolerate your existence when you aren't killing them. Besides, we have enough wealth to pay for blood fairly."

Host: "Pay for it fairly? That's a joke, right? This isn't a fair trade, you're draining their very life force."

Ainsley: "Clearly you've never worked a retail job."

Host: "That's not the same."

Ainsley: "Isn't it? Both trade life for pay? The only difference is a shift with me is barely an hour."

It's not like I couldn't see it from their point of view, I could have had a problem with the need for trading blood for money but I'd be somewhat hypocritical given my current profession.

I'll confess, I was attempting to dismiss them out of hand to embolden myself. I knew there was a chance I'd need to take at least one of their lives to get out of that situation. The more I could remove them from rational, sapient beings, the less guilt I would have had to suffer.

But it was proving difficult when they gave somewhat rational answers. I could pick a fight with their methods, but I didn't have time to unpack the innate unfairness of a system that drives people to make those choices.

I had to move on to other means of a solution. Next on the list was attempting to scare them away before a battle even broke out, but I really didn't have much hope of that succeeding.

Host: "As magic creatures, you have advanced regenerative abilities and resistances to mundane weapons. You can turn into mist for very short bursts granting temporary invulnerability. You're faster than most creatures with astonishing strength despite your small frames."

Ainsley: "Are you listing the reasons it's hopeless to defy us? What's your point, child?"

I picked up a portion of the cracked cast iron cauldron and placed in on the table.

Host: "My point is that you're nearly perfect predators. Nearly. You've still got that pesky weakness to pure silver."

I pulled the half hanging curtain rod from the wall and leant it against the hearth.

Ainsley, who had been still as the grave till that point finally moved, shrugging their shoulders.

Ainsley: "Yes. The silver thing is an issue when picking out cutlery. But I fail to see how that's relevant. Unless that sword is silver, you're shit out of luck."

I retrieved the 9 silver pieces I'd gotten at the Pelsted train station from the pouch on my harness, and dropped them on the table.

Host: "A little titbit that my village smithy told me. Did you know that the Elarian Silver Drake has recently been re-minted by the Royal Treasury? Unlike the pure Gold Drake, the silver was actually a silver alloy containing zinc and tin for durability. However, foreign nations were upset due to inequitable exchange rates. Why should a Dev'aas Dominion's Silver Sovereign be worth the same as an Elarian Silver Drake if the Drake is, by definition, less valuable? Well, in a bid to appease international trade, the King ordered the aforementioned reminting, and now-"

I held up the silver coin to inspect it.

Host: "All Elarian Drakes in circulation are pure silver. Which also made its physical value closer to its purchasing power but I'm sure the crown never cared about that."

Ainsley: "Look, friend, if you're planning to throw those at us until we die, I think you're going to need a bigger coffer."

Host: "I wouldn't be so wasteful. I'm going to do something much more impressive. I'm going to forge a silver blade, right here, right now."

Ainsley: "Forge a weapon? In a dilapidated house with no smithing tools? Now, that is a sight I truly wish to behold."

I confess, Ainsley's goon had wounded me badly. But if it was the last thing I did, I’d make sure they'd rue the fact they hadn't taken the kill shot when they had the chance.

They'd given me time to prepare and that would prove to be their biggest mistake to date.

Outro

We'll leave it there for today. I know, I know, you would very much like to find out how I was able to get out of that. Well, through considerable effort is how. But you'll have to wait for the details, I'm afraid.

Don't you worry, it's a hoot.

Got enough firewood for the night? Got your watch order sorted? Good. It is once again time to sleep.

Rest well, adventurers, and good hunting.

Credits

Calling all Adventurers is a production of The Tower Array, written and directed by Gray Smith.

The Host is played by Gray Smith.

Valuin Emmaris is played by Ivy Smith. 

Ainsley is played by Ian Kay.

The Cobalt Recruit is played by Jason Francey.

And the Cobalt Agent is played by Hannah Pratt.

You can find out more about the show at thetowerarray.com