Wall walkers of Adjepbar part 2

Scribe Notes

Summary

Adventure: Wall walkers of Adjepbar Part 2
GM: Jonathan Bean
Season: TBC
Night: 4
Level: TBC

Party

• Lady Lizette Summers - Healer, Buff Mage, Courtier, Human - played by RPer 4eva
• Aurora Steelwind - Troubadour, Assassin, Scribe, Courtier, Transport, Wood Elf - played by Keith Smith
• Keshah - Mil Sci, Melee Tank, Melee Damage per pulse, Assassin, Transport, Courtier, High Elf - played by Michael Haycock
• Dae - Party Leader, Ranger, Jack-of-all-trades, High Elf - played by Gus

Employer

TBC

Mission

TBC

Pay

TBC

Wall Walkers of Adjepbar: Part Two Celebrated as newfound heroes of Adjepbar, the adventuring party steps into the lavish spotlight of the royal festival race, only to find public honors hopelessly entangled with subterfuge. While Dae and Lady Lizette Summers preside over the balcony ceremonies, uncanny omens surface throughout the city—from mechanical spy birds and hooded tails to phantom crosses weeping blue sand. Nightfall brings clamoring noble suitors duped by fraudulent sculpting tickets, while an insidious floral enchantment seizes Aurora Steelwind, compelling her toward the western wastes in her sleep. Navigating between a blind master sculptor whose empathic craft rejects Lizette's guarded spirit and the feline-guarded parapets of the Cardone Wall, the companions uncover regional conspiracies involving shapechangers, venomous smugglers, and forgotten desert guardians.

Scribe Notes

Night 1

Chapter 1: Reunion at the Guild Gates

Dae reunites with Lizette, Keshah, and Aurora at the guild gates as their rescued refugees look on.

Dae reunites with Lizette, Keshah, and Aurora at the guild gates as their rescued refugees look on.

Determined to continue our aborted mission, the three of us wandered into the guild grounds, where we came upon Dae lounging under the sun along a low rowstone wall. He was deep in conversation with a rather attractive water mage and an equally striking mind mage, the pair absorbed in discussing their respective colleges with him.

"Oh, hey, Dae!" called Lizette across the stones, noting that it had been a while. A greeting followed, remarking that it was good to see her still alive, though looking quite pale even after being out in the sun and on a boat. Lizette clarified her condition, stating that whatever rumors had spread, she was no longer demon-infested and no longer Pacted to death. The sea trip had left lingering wooziness, with the ground feeling as though it were swaying back and forth.

Attention soon shifted to the others in the courtyard, prompting a question as to whether these were traveling companions. Introductions were quickly offered, with Keshah stepping forward to present himself. The male elf stood about five-foot-ten, with dark black hair and green eyes. Over his shoulders rested a suit of handsome, ornate red leather armor, complemented by a finely crafted hand-and-a-half sword, a bow slung ready, and a stout quarterstaff etched with runes.

Beside him I stood. I introduced myself as Aurora. Standing at five-foot-seven—rather short for an elf—I bore nearly waist-length blonde hair and wore the traditional blues and whites of the Air College over sensible traveling attire. Known as well for being a reporter for the *Seagate Times*, I regarded the gathering with interest.

Dae, who had previously journeyed alongside Lizette, was recognizable as a youngish male elf with dark hair. Subtle touches of makeup were visible, used to make him appear older as a human rather than an elf, having grown up in human settlements without many elven elders around. Aurora found him familiar from guild dispatches, while Lizette noted he was also a hero of Adjepbar. When rumors were mentioned, Dae remarked that it was an accident—depending on which rumor was meant.

I prompted an introduction to the charming companions on the wall, but the two mages demurred, politely excusing themselves so as not to intrude. Bidding Dae farewell and telling him not to wander off, they departed. For some reason I felt a little disappointed.

Lizette then asked for opinions on the Red Crowns and Gold Crowns, mentioning she remembered only a little about them. Dae replied plainly that he did not enjoy their company.

About that time, a gaggle of about fifteen stragglers neatly attired in fresh clothing appeared behind us at the guild gates. Keshah explained that on our last mission we had rescued thirty-eight Ivinians who were being hunted by nasty creatures. After taking them far south and returning them safely to Seagate, the plan had been to release them, but the refugees now wished to hire on as servants.

I noted that maybe I could perhaps use some, though the choice was up to them, mentioning I had a manor house kept running by a majordomo during my frequent absences. Keshah suggested they might also be happy settling into a local village to farm, tend orchards, or care for gardens. I agreed that farms and gardens always needed care, though word was that the Western Kingdom was in turmoil. Lizette expressed a desire to keep all thirty-eight together if possible, a sentiment I shared, preferring not to split them up without their consent.

Chapter 2: Guild Divinations and Debrief

The party undergoes magical divination and delivers their unconventional debriefing upon returning to the Guild.

The party undergoes magical divination and delivers their unconventional debriefing upon returning to the Guild.

A voice assented as the group regrouped. A guild representative came by, inquiring whether they had any items requiring divination. The reply came that there were a few, and they would have a go at it. I pointed out that beyond their gear, they had a bunch of divinations to conduct on themselves as well, considering conditions had not remained static—in fact, other things had shifted, even if she was not entirely sure what had changed. Besides, I wanted to make sure there hadn't6 been some other effects that weren't picked up in the initial post-adventure divination.

Lizette asked whether she could check the items for magically cursed water intended to attract the refugees, deciding she would perform the inspection once they made land. The announcement came immediately that they were already at land.

Stepping forward, the guild representative approached once more. "Excuse me, Lady Dawn, oh, could you come this way for a divination, please?"

"Oh, okay," I agreed. Turning back toward Dae, she added before the thought slipped away, "Oh, Dae, while I remember, I'm not sure you'll be mentioned in the Seagate Times — I might have to remedy that. Not sure it's going to be this issue, maybe the next one." When someone mentioned stories, I clarified my process with some annoyance "I do NOT do fake news". Basically I do not invent stories; I interview people, listen as they told their accounts, wrote them down, and then head off to handle the journaling. It was noted that the guild representative had come directly to me, and the party agreed to check in and complete the routine.

Taking stock of their commercial cover, I reviewed my notes and was horrified to discover I had forgotten to pass on the merchant details to the local leather merchants. I had gathered a roster of names, displayed the samples, and secured viable contacts. My intention was now to simply turn the details over to the leather merchants and let them manage the trade. Lizette countered that the commercial venture had merely been a cover rather than the actual assignment, though others acknowledged that the legwork had nonetheless been carried out. When Lizette trailed off wondering whether they wanted to keep lugging around twenty-three chests of leather, or thirty-eight refugees, I clarified that I referred specifically to the twenty-three chests of leather goods, which could now be returned once the leather merchant took over the outreach.

After agreeing to report to the leather guild, I submitted to my magical reading. The diviner confirmed that her aura had indeed shifted. I had anticipated as much, curious whether any further alterations would show. The assessment revealed that she had resisted a rank-one curse approximately six times, with the residue linked to foul odors. I immediately identified the culprit: Her Magnificent, the inn's cat. Chuckling that the beast was clearly not that powerful, I mused that should we cross paths again, I might use a 'pixie prank' to dye the tips of her fur green once more—or, assuming I was now in its good graces, perhaps make her smell of violets instead. Nearby, an inquiry was raised about having the party's animals checked as well.

When asked whether a message had been left for their employer at the drop position back in Adjepbar, I explained that I was sure I had left that task to Keshah. Had it not been done? Regardless, we were now safely within the guild halls, where examinations confirmed the travelers were fine.

The formal debriefing proved less smooth. When the guild representative pressed for an explanation after hearing they had accomplished little of the original objective, Aurora explained their quandary: they had never received the specific contact or identified the targeted merchant house, leaving them stymied before extraneous crises sidetracked the entire enterprise.

"Did it really go as badly as planned?" came the question.

"Yep," came the blunt confirmation.

Asked to identify the party leader, Lizette was named. Keshah stepped in to provide the critical context: while attempting to rescue a bystander at their inn, Lizette had been struck by what amounted to a death curse. With their leader facing the grim certainty of being dead and devoured within six weeks, the mission had necessarily pivoted entirely toward saving her life.

Chapter 3: Contracts and Crowns

The adventurers debate the hidden perils of blank contracts and debts owed to the Gold Crowns.

The adventurers debate the hidden perils of blank contracts and debts owed to the Gold Crowns.

The debriefing began with grim reflections on what had transpired. "What do you think?" someone murmured, the consensus settling on a grim assessment: consumed from within.

"So that was pretty much the rest of the adventure," Keshah said flatly, summing up the conclusion of the venture.

"Yeah, well, understandable," I admitted. "So we thought we'd better come back and regroup, plus we needed some, backup."

A voice chimed in with a suggestion: backup, as in assistance—perhaps taking that nice, friendly man, Dae, along with them. I started to answer, but trailing commentary noted the grim financial reality: it was a matter of money, and they were already poor. Struggling to summarize the tangled complications, I confessed, "It sort of got a little bit—to be quite honest, it was a little over my head."

"Yes, yes, we understand," the Guild representative reassured gently. "It's alright, Aurora. Just, please just sit there and look beautiful for the moment.". So I said down and fumed for a bit.

The discussion quickly turned to official scrutiny. Word had reached the Guild representative that something was amiss regarding Lizette and the rest of the circle, questioning whether inquiries were about donations or genuine alarm over their dealings—specifically concerning their souls and signed contracts.

"Oh, those?" I interjected, ready to address the matter directly. "Yes, in that case, I will explain that. Yes, please, that's okay. Guild security would wanna know. Yes. Apparently I've got a debt to the Red Crowns. Or was it the Gold Crowns? I can't remember. No wait, it was the Gold Crowns. Because Lizette needed some assistance from them in order to sort out her little problem, so I signed a contract with them to spend six months with them."

A question was directed to Lizette: "And, Lizette, what's your situation?"

"Well, since you didn't help me, I went to talk to them about if I could absorb some of her debt to them," Lizette explained, faltering slightly over the outcome. "I'm not sure I got as well as I... yeah."

"She ended up signing a blank piece of paper," I noted dryly. "Goodness knows what she signed."

Exclamations went around the circle over whether past mistakes had taught them anything. The reminder was raised that last time had ended in a signature with death, though Lizette maintained that was unintentional. Pressed on whether she had entered another blind agreement, Lizette clarified that it had not literally begun as a signed page, but rather an understanding—a gentleman's agreement, or a binding one. Yet the Guild Rep pressed the point: this time, paper had indeed been signed. When asked what the paper said, the answer was plain: blank. It had been blank, remained blank, effectively committing to nothing on its face.

"However, I think we can trust them," Lizette maintained, appealing to the idea of Syrene's Court. Voices questioned how they fit into any court at all, describing them merely as guests. Dae countered that they were as much part of Syrene's Court as the party was.

The Guild Rep noted that, unfortunately for them, there existed something far more delectable that the Crowns would be interested in. When Dae wryly asked what could possibly be more delectable than a Lizette, Lizette acknowledged they had little interest in her. Keshah observed that they held a strong interest in Dae, but the topic soon shifted toward Dae. An objection arose against offering Dae up, prompting the tactical reminder that one does not simply give Dae away, but rather dangles Dae as leverage.

"Right!" I remarked, realizing the stakes. "I guess I got some research to do in the guild's library before we go."

Lizette recalled that the contract had contained a protective specification: I would not be compelled to do anything she found morally repugnant. I voiced no misgivings on that account, curious about what I might learn from them, though Lizette repeated the caution that Dae could not simply be surrendered.

"And besides that, you'll probably quite like their culture," Keshah added thoughtfully. "It's infamous."

Chapter 4: Briefing and the Gray Fox

Whispers of regional unrest and mysterious affiliations lead the companions from the strategy table to the archives.

Whispers of regional unrest and mysterious affiliations lead the companions from the strategy table to the archives.

Reflecting on survival and past perils, Dae acknowledged that standing there at all was owed entirely to having good friends. Keshah brought up the grueling journey once taken to resolve Lizette’s dilemma, remarking that the travel itself was nothing compared to the severity of the problem they faced. A voice nearby noted that for a time, at least, it had still been fun.

The conversation turned to lingering supernatural bonds. I inquired whether anyone was pacted. Though the answer came that there had never been such a pact, divination readings on me suggested otherwise—or at least revealed something resembling an "almost pacting." The Guild Rep countered that on their end, it registered instead as a great debt. I admitted uncertainty about whether the connection could be exorcised just yet, deciding it was an issue best tackled directly once this current mission concluded. For now, spending six months under the employ of the Gold Crowns offered a welcome reprieve from the Western Kingdom. From what word had reached her, turmoil was stirring across the west, with nobles discovering their estates slipping away due to lapsed or disputed paperwork. When the question arose of who was seizing the land, I had no definitive answer beyond mounting rumor and hearsay. Keshah observed that such dispossessions were the spark for civil war, prompting further debate over whether the unrest threatened a peasant uprising or an aristocratic revolt against the crown—a grim prospect I hoped would not come to pass.

The Guild representative weighed in, urging that Keshah be assisted in keeping the group under control, with a pointed admonition directed toward keeping certain desires in check. A defensive reply protested that magic had been the cause—specifically being struck by a magical staff—even if that explanation hardly improved matters. Regardless, the directive stood: the company was to return to Adjepbar and investigate the developments surrounding the merchant family. While old mission grounds remained in the vicinity, they were considered unlikely to cause trouble.

Clarifying the geography, Aurora asked about Syrene's Court. Was it still sixty miles down the coast, or had they moved. Dae and Keshah clarified that the factions present were visitors rather than permanent fixtures of Syrene's Court, traveling alongside Destinians and others. Meanwhile, elves had gathered in Adjepbar, actively instructing the local citizens in martial combat and healing arts, even as word spread of Destinians and elves clashing back in the Elven Isles.

With too many threads tangling at once, I announced I would be in the library, intent on sifting through scribe notes and verifying rumors about Dae's background and associates before stepping into the field, So I set off into the stacks—learning that he was, by all accounts, kin to the Gray Fox.

Chapter 5: Guild Formalities and the Displaced

The party reorganizes their ranks and responsibilities within the guild while planning for their followers camped outside.

The party reorganizes their ranks and responsibilities within the guild while planning for their followers camped outside.

A brief murmur of agreement opened the inquiry as the records were laid bare. The Guild's accounts suggested Dae descended from a line of elves believed to be in hiding from Alfheim, driven away after his parents eloped to escape an arranged marriage. For my part, I was simply sifting through the public knowledge of the day to ensure she understood her new companion.

By all accounts, Dae stood as the hero of Adjepbar, maintaining good standing there after joining the Guild as a fresh recruit out of Gugnir's Hope. His service record noted several excursions into the Fastness of Girwyllan, including ventures touching upon the Elemental Plane of Earth and a brief posting to the Plane of Fire—brief indeed for such an unforgiving realm. "Okay, no, those are the highlights," I noted, satisfied with familiarizing myself with a veteran fellow adventurer so as not to be caught unawares by someone of proper standing. The Guild had recently promoted him from recruit to full-time member. Dae acknowledged the status with a dry point of pride: "I've only killed one member, so it's good standing."

Observation turned to his affinity as a water-based practitioner before conversation drifted toward immediate domestic burdens. An entourage had gathered outside, sheltering in tents upon the commons outside the guild. It was suggested they might be transported toward an estate, perhaps requiring the establishment of a barony or a manor house. I clarified that her holding was merely a manor house reachable through her home. Keshah pointed out that housing would have to be erected if people were simply dumped there, while Dae mentioned having leads on a Runemage legacy he intended to investigate in due time.

Details of the manor estate offered little relief for a large resettlement. At eighteen hundred acres, the crop and pasture land was sufficient to maintain an upper-class standard of living for the owner and sixteen others—including four servants, two mounts, and two draft horses—providing expenses for sixteen months but generating no extra income beyond that. Furthermore, the displaced people had no desire to travel off-plane, so the Lilac manor was out as they wished to remain beneath the familiar night sky of their homeland. Though they could look for work and remain camped near the guild temporarily, the guild representative made it clear they could not stay long-term, urging arrangements to be settled within eight weeks. I offered to inquire at court to see if any households required hands. The group noted that the contingent consisted predominantly of women and children—the martial-trained women having stayed behind to face the attack—and Guild rules did not permit them membership.

Keshah offered to handle arrangements for the camp before turning back to administrative business: "We should probably do the formalities again, get a new military scientist and scribe and add a leader and stuff."

The guild representative promptly addressed the party's command. "Uh-huh, Lizette," the official remarked. "Yes, given your astounding accomplishments in leading a party on the last mission, we suggest that you pass the mantle to somebody else."

Lizette accepted the assessment, noting that the others had previously declined because of the demands of Inscribing. Turning to Dae, she asked how he felt about stepping into the position. Keshah agreed that Dae would be an appropriate choice given his strong perspective on the crowns. Dae considered the offer and agreed he could make a good effort of it. Confirmation followed around the circle for Military Duties and Scribe, with me raising no objection, leaving Lizette to settle into her responsibilities as cook and healer. With the leadership decided, the party welcomed their new leader aboard.

Chapter 6: Return to Adjepbar

Travel plans and trade intrigues converge as the party prepares to navigate the factions of the old city.

Travel plans and trade intrigues converge as the party prepares to navigate the factions of the old city.

A voice announced the shift in leadership: "Now you're in charge."

"You can try and make this party go in a straight line," Keshah remarked dryly.

The conversation turned to their destination. Adjepbar lay to the south—not excessively far, but distinctly southward. I weighed our transit options, wondering aloud whether we should take wing or use magical transit. "Wanna fly there or we gonna, rune portal or what?" I asked, briefly contemplating flight for the sake of an efficient journey before settling on the portal. It was noted that rune porting had been their method previously, requiring just two hops to cover the distance, even though both hops left us completely fatigued. Maybe I should stock up on Restoratives.

During the preparations, attention turned to Dae's unusual appearance. Dae was remarkably slim—thin and celery-like, even by elven standards. Dae himself pointed out that at first glance, an onlooker might mistake him for a human simply because he was so ugly for an elf, an appraisal met with candid agreement.

Matters of commerce also required attention. Regarding the leather trade, I explained that I still needed to update the local leather workers on the contacts I had gathered, passing the leads along for them to pursue. I intended to remain vigilant for further opportunities once back in Adjepbar.

Adjepbar was an old city possessing a unique civic structure. It was ruled by hobbits who resided in a smaller quarter of the town, while the human populace was divided into three large political factions known as "stacks." Near the center of one such stack stood Salador House, an established merchant line dealing in diverse wares, including specialty spices used in culinary rituals. Lately, the house had suffered an unexpected string of lost bids to their competitors, leading them to suspect an internal leak. Dae confirmed that the house was indeed the client for the operation.

Communication protocols were straightforward. An inn called The Hobbit's Arms served as our designated liaison point. The party could stop by at any time to deposit messages, updates, or specific requests, with the employer clearing the drops daily.

Chapter 7: Guild Preparations and Prudent Clauses

The adventurers finalize their equipment, enchantments, and travel plans at the guild.

The adventurers finalize their equipment, enchantments, and travel plans at the guild.

Enquiries regarding the local architecture revealed that the city's great houses were typically narrow and tall, standing some five or six stone-block stories high over a relatively small footprint due to their age and occasional expansion into adjacent structures. That implies that telepathy spells would be useful to find out what is going on inside.

At the guild house, final preparations were set in motion before departure. We needed to get Greater Enchantments and Lesser Enchantments. The guild representative confirmed that a rank eleven greater enchantment, for all areas, was on offer for the party, adding with dry candor that they should do their best to keep Lizette alive—though if they could not, that would simply have to do. Keshah suggested securing a couple of Strength of Stone enchantments as well. Dae quipped that they were as sturdy as a burnt out oak—albeit a very thin burnt oak. Examining our equipment, the guild representative cast an appraising eye over a set of shark leather skin armor that Dae was wearing. Keshah commented that we spent most of our last visit to Adjepbar talking to cats. Yep. That was a dig at me.

The conversation turned to operational details. Dae urged that we first do what we can with the mechanical birds we had on hand and seek assistance from the cat lady. Lizette clarified that most of the birds had little direct connection to the enchanter; he merely utilized those already present across the city rather than fabricating or distributing them himself, a point I confirmed. I'll have to do an inventory on how many working birds I can muster from what I salvaged last time. Earth Luck - another term for the Earth College Lesser Enchantment spell.

To aid their defense, the guild representative proposed that we take a couple of days to travel down to Slippery Rock and back, offering to pen a letter of introduction so Lizette might purchase a protective amulet against fear. When Lizette asked whether a rune portal could whisk them back or required presence on both sides, Keshah pointed out that while runic transit was possible, opening one directly into that vicinity—a few miles outside town—would likely irritate the locals. Flying was raised as the faster alternative, estimated at roughly forty minutes. I agreed, noting she could bestow flight upon the other three and rely on her own wings.

Before details progressed, Dae presented an non disclosure agreement for signature, insisting on our agreement before speaking further. Though greeted with mild surprise, Keshah acknowledged the measure was simply to ensure the party kept whatever information Dae was about to disclose strictly confidential.

As terms and guild provisions were settled, the representative noted the enchantments would hold for a season, although replacement guarantees were tied to an immediate window of five days, tapering down to three. The Guild Master then intervened to set the limit firmly at two days, taking the opportunity to ask Lizette whether it was true she had received awards for stupidest adventurer and best-death categories at the last Guild meeting. Lizette noted she had not been present to witness it, while Keshah affirmed it had at least been a strong effort. With business concluded, the guild representative handed the paperwork, including the letter of introduction, over to me to look after.

Chapter 8: Flight to Slippery Rock

The party glides over the Sweetwater, surveying river barges and scarred frontier ruins from the morning sky.

The party glides over the Sweetwater, surveying river barges and scarred frontier ruins from the morning sky.

A formal letter of introduction was handed across the desk, meant for the wiccans stationed at Slippery Rock. With the document accepted with thanks, the party was advised to take wing and fly down together—naturally subject to their commander's permission—with the parting wish that they return in one piece.

Before departing, questions arose regarding defenses against lingering horrors. Lizette asked whether there was an emblem capable of keeping undead at bay. There were actually two such protective items available, though Aurora noted with a dry remark that having one meant needing to be careful—and being careful was hardly her forte. Acquiring them would require considerable coin, running into thousands. Inquiring into their balance and requesting a withdrawal against the account, paperwork was drawn up. Once Lizette signed the voucher, a substantial sum was released: fifty thousand silver pieces, handed over in a massive, heavy bag that made for an astonishing hoard to carry in one place.

Setting out to retrieve what was needed, the company prepared for the journey. I pointed out that following the winding course of the Sweetwater was the most reliable path; though not a direct line, one could hardly lose their way, and the road remained visible below as a second guide. Moreover, Slippery Rock was perched prominently upon a hill, easily spotted from the river.

By mid-morning, we took to the skies together on a crisp, bright spring day ideal for flight. Warnings were passed to keep a watchful eye out to avoid 'bird strikes', while I quipped about making sure my 'little chickadees' got there safe, met with the reassurance that if anyone crashed and broke something, Lizette would fix them up.

From our vantage aloft, the Sweetwater bustled with activity. River barges plied the waters laden with hay, fodder, and fresh vegetables making their way downstream toward Seagate, while rafts and packs of harvested logs floated along the river. Keshah noted that they would need to keep clear of the barges, lest things become tricky.

Tracking the river south past a turnoff, the landscape shifted. The wooded expanse around the hill approached—marked out as Slippery Rock—dense with trees and forest. Gazing down at the broader countryside, the land appeared choked with desolate remnants: Byson Ruin, Tim's Ruin, the Thock Ruin, and others, with virtually every mapped site known as fallen save for Broken Arrow far down the road to the east. When Keshah asked whether this marked where the undead plague had swept across, it was confirmed that these ruins forming a line across the territory was indeed the Dark Wall, the last defense against the Dark Circle. The 'line' stretched all the way to Duntow Ruin in the South.

I checked whether we were sharing the air with anyone else or if it was just us. The sky around us was clear save for our own group, though far to the south a lone figure could be seen in the air near Regar's Keep. Satisfied with our approach, someone announced their descent, and the party landed easily in a pasture where a herd of goats was grazing in the field.

Chapter 9: Slippery Rock

A stop at the Slippery Rock general store turns into an unexpected summons toward Gugnir's Hope.

A stop at the Slippery Rock general store turns into an unexpected summons toward Gugnir's Hope.

The road led upward, delivering the party at last into Slippery Rock. It was a picturesque settlement—clean, tidy, and quiet, woven together with cobbled streets, raised hedges, and small clusters of cottages where nearly every home seemed to hide a private garden behind its greenery.

Yet for all its pastoral charm, the village felt sparse. Barely fifteen buildings made up the entire hamlet, and it was entirely devoid of the bustling trade signs or guilds common to larger towns; there was not even a blacksmith's forge ringing in the distance. The sole center of commerce appeared to be a large general store sitting squarely in the middle of town.

"I wouldn't have thought you'd buy amulets at the main store," Lizette remarked, eyeing the quiet building. "I thought it'd be more of an artisan thing, but I guess we can go check it out."

"Well, it's a small settlement," Dae reasoned. "Maybe they have to expand on what they sell."

Agreeing that it was a remarkably quiet village, they made their way toward the general store. As they approached, two young women rose to meet them. Lizette offered a polite greeting, explaining that she had come looking to buy amulets and had been told this was the place.

I stepped forward to present their letter of introduction. The women cast an eye over the parchment, their demeanor instantly warming. "Very welcome, this way," one said, recognizing Lizette's name. "We heard that you signed up with the Red Crowns. Is that true?"

"Oh, it was the Gold Crowns, wasn't it?" Lizette confessed with an apologetic wince, admitting how easily she mixed up the factions. "I honestly get confused. I apologize—they would probably be very disapproving of me for not knowing."

"Rumors about her body parts having miraculous healing powers are probably overinflated, if you've heard those ones," Keshah dryly interjected, prompting murmurs about whether it was mere wordplay or the truth of a growing cult.

The young women led them around the side of the main building, guiding the travelers through a narrow doorway into a smaller adjoining space. Behind the counter sat a woman who appeared hale and well, accompanied by a dog and a sleek black cat which perched nearby. Looking up, her face brightened with familiarity.

"Greetings, Lizette," she said warmly, before turning her gaze across the rest of the group. "Hello, Dae. Nice to see you. Is your mother well?"

"That's an excellent question," Dae answered candidly. "I would love to have an answer. I'm a busy guild member, and I haven't received news from her for a while. For all I know..."

The woman studied the companions and inquired who their air mage was, prompting me to introduce myself as Lady Aurora. Pleased to meet her, the shopkeeper opened a large tome upon the counter, quickly scanning a few lines before shutting the volume firmly.

"Could you see Dae through to Gugnir's Hope by the end of today?" the woman asked me. "Make sure he takes some flowers and a little bit of spending money. He needs to visit his mother."

Aurora promptly produced a small travel map, scanning across the parchment until her finger located the landmark. "Oh, it's over there," she noted, tracing the route back and down.

Chapter 10: Wares of the Gold Crowns

Negotiating for protective charms and carbuncles at the witch's counter.

Negotiating for protective charms and carbuncles at the witch's counter.

I nodded in assent, and the morning's business proceeded. An elderly witch handed over a bag, stating the tally: "That'll be fifteen thousand six hundred silver pieces."

"Cool," Lizette replied, promptly paying her. Mindful of their ongoing duties, she asked, "We are in a bit of a hurry, but does anyone here need any healing?"

"We require no assistance from you, thank you," came the reply from the witch, noting she was glad she had not said otherwise. An unidentified voice added that they were glad to hear it, mentioning, "I am married to Kilroy. Your reputation has preceded you."

"Reputation, whatever else you could... I, I assume you hear in my head these days," Lizette replied.

Keshah joined in, remarking, "Nice you heard. I then inquired about Kilroy, knowing he is a very experienced Guild adventurer. "Quietly retired, by the sound of it." Keshah replied.

The witch, Sarah, wished Keshah good luck, which he took in stride. "Should be okay. It's a quiet little adventure. Nothing much will happen."

"Touching a wooden object immediately," someone muttered against the jinx.

Lizette sought to reassure them: "Dae will make sure that we stay in the safer areas and get things done, I'm sure."

"'Cause he is a pillar of sensibility and logic," Keshah said.

Dae weighed in on his own situation: "As long as it's not avoiding, avoiding the Crown, I am." A companion countered that it was already too late on the avoiding side, seeing as they had both signed up. Keshah remarked that they didn't need barrels, while another voice noted they could dig themselves a little bit deeper in. Dae mused, "Part of me still suspects that whoever assigned me to this, like, got paid to, to, to sign me in." Someone agreed it was easy to spot the new recruit.

"I'm confused," Lizette confessed regarding the factions. "I'm just gonna claim on with the Red Crowns until I learn that I'm mistaken." She was cautioned that she shouldn't claim at all. "Well, no, I probably won't, but if anyone brings it up, I probably won't bring it up at all. I don't think I should."

The elderly witch looked at them and firmly set the record straight: it was the Gold Crowns. The party acknowledged the correction with thanks, surprised at how quickly news traveled, though she noted the matter had already been discussed the previous day.

Attention then turned to protective trinkets. "I should get a carbuncle," I said. "It's probably a very good idea, actually. Don't have one of those."

A query arose about defenses against cat curses. When asked if anyone was actively suffering from them, I explained that I was merely a frequent target, but the curses kept bouncing. Lizette encouraged keeping in good standing with the witch to avoid trouble, but the witch countered: "You know I can't do that, don't you? Each one you bounce adds to their lives. That's where cats get their nine lives from, you understand?"

Questions followed over whether deflected curses could strip away a life instead, though it was explained that speaking directly with cats was the key.

Turning back to the shop's stock, options were weighed between an Iron Amulet, or a Jet Amulet, or both. Deciding that taking both would be best—especially if paying in advance—an order was placed for one of each, along with the carbuncle I wanted. Priced at nine thousand silver pieces, Aurora recognized it was steep, but noted it decreased damage done by poison, recalling the situation I got into with the necromances.

When settling up with gems instead of coin, as carrying all those gold pieces around can be annoying, the shopkeeper agreed to accept them, though with a condition: there would be a ten percent surcharge.

"Why am I not—" I began but then paid up.

Chapter 11: Restoratives and Celestial Portents

Truscilla delivers an unsettling warning about the night sky while settling the account for restoratives.

Truscilla delivers an unsettling warning about the night sky while settling the account for restoratives.

I looked over my possessions thinking I should purchase the other amulets I don't have that could be useful.

Keshah gave a slow nod, weighing the difficulty of appraising such goods. "It's very difficult to... yeah, they don't come stamped with a certain amount of value," he observed, adding a moment later, "Yeah, I guess there isn't." I replied. I then remarked that an adventurer would obviously need such supplies, though Keshah noted the distinction: "It's just that as an elf, you're less affected by some of the items."

"The chalcedony is 4,800, so that'll be 8,800 total," I calculated. Across the counter, further figures were bandied about—a mention of another 9,200 until a compromise was struck. "Yeah, let's call it 9,000 and we'll be done with it," came the consensus.

Lizette did not dispute the figure. "Okay, I will pay the nine thousand," she agreed, loosening the purse strings. "All right." I immediately resolved to pay Lizette back at the earliest opportunity - or the Guild. Don't want the Guild Accountants on my case.

The merchant accepted the nine thousand. "I think that's everything I need". I replied before adding "Although restoratives are always a good idea." The shopkeeper then asked Dae, "Are you interested in the amulets? It appears that Lizette is carrying the bag of coins of bottomless size."

Dae demurred with quiet dignity. "I wouldn't impose myself that way on my companions."

"Oh, very good," came the reply. Inquiries soon turned to the shop's concoctions: how long the restoratives would last and what potency was available. The apothecary explained that their draughts ranged from small to large; brewed at top dollar, they would last indefinitely, whereas paying bottom dollar meant an efficacy of three months. Keshah leaned in to ask for details: "Top dollar ten point fatigue, how much would that cost? Well, twelve—ten or twelve, whichever, round about that ballpark figure, ten or twelve points." An agreement was made to settle payment for the potions with true silver, since it would amount to a moderate quantity of coin.

Then the tone shifted. The shopkeeper looked squarely at Lady Summers. "So, Lizette., What dealings have you had with Delixe Bernall" Keshah remembers her as a drow commander during the recent drow war.

"Look, I'm sorry, the name escapes me," Lizette replied honestly.

"Well, the year's running out."

"The what is running out, sorry?"

"The year," came the firm answer. A question followed about whether some impending doom loomed. "Have you looked at the night skies recently?"

"No."

"You don't believe in that, I presume?"

"No, no, I've seen it come in handy many times, but it's not one of my skills," Lizette answered.

"I see, yes." "When does the timer run out, just out of interest?" Keshah asked.

"This year," Lizette echoed, prompting the natural follow-up: "And what's supposed to happen?"

"Oh, it's not for me to just say," the merchant cautioned. "You might need to go and read the dark skies." When Lizette admitted she lacked the means, the apothecary offered alternatives: "You could return to the guild and you could get it done. You could do it, I could do it, and the guild could do it. Why don't you go return to your guild and get an astrology reading?"

"Sounds like an excellent idea. Yeah, I think we may have to," came the response. The witch pointed out that information would cost five silver. Lizette readily produced the coins. "Of course, and I'll give you five silvers. I appreciate the information."

As a parting friendly reminder, the witch noted that the Baron's Arms was a fine establishment in Gugner's Hope. Keshah took note: "We will head there immediately next. Very good. You should think about buying a gift here, potentially. There's some really nice gifts here I think you could buy."

A brief debate arose over whether to return straight to the Guild first to see what was happening or make the journey elsewhere first. "No, no, no, we can always do that later," it was urged. "Like, it's only a couple hours' flight, we can still be back at the guild for the evening, potentially. You're not getting out of this. We're flying to Gugnir's Hope."

Keshah offered to do an astrology reading, prompting Lizette to ask, "Isn't it what they send you back to the Guild for?"

"They probably can do it better than I can," came the concession. "So what are you doing?"

Chapter 12: Flight to Gugnir's Hope

Gugnir's Hope rises upon its rocky butte as hundreds of riders assemble near the stables below.

Gugnir's Hope rises upon its rocky butte as hundreds of riders assemble near the stables below.

A decision was made: the destination was Gugnir's Hope. Dae suggested we should first garner some help from the guild on the way out, noting that taking such a detour would give an excuse to check in there, instead of checking with his mother - at least that was what I was surmising. . Others felt the settlement should be the immediate goal. Keshah pointed out that word was already being sent ahead to Dae's mother, warning that failing to turn up would reflect poorly and cost far too many brownie points. While another voice mused that having a mother to visit was at least something, they admitted having no personal need for the town beyond curiosity about the place.

Looking at the hour, the morning was already slipping past—what had begun around nine was now near midday. Keshah noted there was still plenty of time, as the flight to Gugnir's Hope would take only a couple of hours, and their investigation could not proceed until the night sky arrived anyway. The town itself held a reputation for ancient stone craft; Keshah brought up its fascinating dwarven ruins and subterranean works. Dae agreed that the town held interesting things. As talk turned to the old stonework, Lizette pressed Dae on why he seemed so intent on avoiding his mother. Dae insisted he was not avoiding her, only declining to rush, preferring a healthy distance without unnecessary smothering. When Lizette wondered aloud if the pressure stemmed from talk of marriage, Dae countered that he had never heard his mother express such an ambition. A curious exchange touched on Red Crowns and whether there were suitors—hundreds of them, Gold Crowns and Red Crowns alike, but they only want him for his mind, according to Keshah.

Our course was mapped past Slippery Rock and South Gate, trailing along the river past Crystal Spring before striking straight north-northwest toward the rocky promontory. Gugnir's Hope was built upon a high butte, its foundations rooted in ancient dwarven architecture, though Dae and I recalled crypts and remnants of undead beneath the city.

Taking to the air for the roughly fifty-mile journey, the flight spanned an hour and a half. Below them unfolded the waters of Crystal Spring, followed by open fields and meadows, light woodlands, and rough high hills. To the far west rose the distant expanses of the Fastness. As we crossed past Red Tree, the rocky butte of Gugnir's Hope swung into clear view. Coming in toward the settlement, the party spotted massive stables below, where an assembly of roughly three hundred people was actively mounting up. Watching the gathering, I wondered what they were up to.

Chapter 13: Drovers of the Earth Plane

Drovers gather outside the town gates as whispers of planar trade routes and subterranean dangers are exchanged.

Drovers gather outside the town gates as whispers of planar trade routes and subterranean dangers are exchanged.

Descending toward the settlement, I looked for a place where the party could touch down safely without incident. A question arose as to whether we should put down at the base of the hill or within the town itself, though an open, level patch of ground was needed either way. While the companions were travelling via air magic rather than physical wings, Aurora pointed out that she alone possessed wings enabling true vertical takeoff and landing. Keshah suggested bringing the flight down along the road just outside the settlement if traffic permitted, noting that local guards and townsfolk generally took issue with people flying directly over the defensive walls—a sentiment I readily echoed.

The party came to rest on the promontory outside the town gates. Looking out over the surrounding grounds, we saw no vast herds of livestock gathered, but a substantial company of cattlemen and horses were busily mounting up. As the observers wondered whether a drive was commencing or concluding here, Dae scanned the gathering to see if any familiar drovers who supplied cattle toward the Plane of Earth and the rambling man were present.

Spotting activity half a mile down at the foot of the hill, Dae set off to investigate whether the portal and delivery routes remained consistent. Within five minutes, Dae located the man in question. The cattle boss was currently dressing down three young drovers still thoroughly intoxicated from their night in town and lashing them securely into their saddles. Despite the unruly morning, he welcomed Dae—calling out to Keshah—and expressed genuine pleasure at the reunion. He mentioned that Dae's mother had been asking after him incessantly, having messengers spread enquiries across Carzala.

Turning to business, the cattleman affirmed that their earlier joint venture had been fantastic. Dae inquired whether that same delivery run was still operational. The drover admitted it was proving dangerous as hell, with orcs and goblins continually ambushing the lines. Dae explained to the others that the settlement at Gugnir's Hope had secured an arrangement with folk on the Plane of Earth who were unable to raise livestock locally, requiring herds to be driven through. I admitted unfamiliarity with that plane beyond understanding it was largely subterranean and honeycombed with tunnels. When Keshah began recounting how drovers push up into the Fastness toward a great river and follow a submerged tunnel route, the drover quickly hushed the elf, warning that such paths were not to be discussed openly, though confirming a passage existed.

Dae cautioned that anyone visiting that realm should take care never to jump or fly away. I agreed that visiting sounded daunting, then brought up a past escape involving a bonfire. Dae confirmed they had been fleeing from dangerous pursuers. the Janx, as formidable threats best avoided, prompting me to note their foul reputation and ask whether they and the Senators of Decay were connected to the Lunar Empire.

Chapter 14: Detour to the Bakery

A greased pig leads a thundering chase through the cobbled streets of town.

A greased pig leads a thundering chase through the cobbled streets of town.

Conversation turned grimly to politics and the undead as I and my companions agreed that the senators were far worse than ordinary troubles. They were nasty, dead, and rightly called the senators of decay, with rumors holding that everything around them decayed.

Dae sought to steer the mood elsewhere, mentioning a great bakery in town and offering to lead the way. I suggested taking care of business after the mission and seeing him home first. Keshah voiced hope for a bounty upon delivering the prodigal son, while others wondered aloud about rewards of tea and cakes, pointing toward a fourth house on the left. Keshah urged haste before word spread, though Dae quipped that an only son was inevitably the prodigal one.

The gesture, however, had pointed not to a town dwelling but out into the forest and surrounding countryside, as Dae's elven kin lived in the woods outside Gugnir's Hope. Dae insisted that a detour to the bakery remained essential; bakeries were best in the morning, and showing up with food and presents was non-negotiable.

Entering the town streets, we found the thoroughfare bustling with children wielding sticks. Suddenly, a hue and cry echoed off the cobbles as a lone, greased pig came tearing around the corner—snorting, steaming, bristling, and sprinting at breakneck speed. Behind the beast surged a chasing mob of roughly sixty children and teenagers dressed in kilts, tabards, and simple clothes. Stepping well aside, with me choosing to float upward to avoid the stampede, the travelers let the chaos sweep past.

Continuing down the cobbled lane, past the Number One Hobbit Detective Agency and several restored dwarvish structures that caught Keshah's mechanical interest, they reached the bakery. Inside, the shop was doing a brisk trade in sliced rolls wrapped around long green spears, which I promptly and accurately identified as baked asparagus.

Chapter 15: The Holiday Bakery

A monumental order of cream buns and pastries at the local bakery.

A monumental order of cream buns and pastries at the local bakery.

The bakery shelves displayed an intriguing variety. Among the featured offerings were asparagus rolls made with red, green, and white stalks, some glazed and rolled in honey and nuts. The notion struck the company as appetizing, though I wondered aloud about the combination.

"Green and what?" I asked. "Red, green, and white asparagus?"

It was confirmed, and Lizette made up her mind to purchase something for an upcoming visit. I observed that asparagus rolls were at their best when freshly harvested—snapped straight from the earth and wrapped into bread with all possible haste. The shopkeeper agreed, noting that this was, after all, a holiday bakery.

Taking in the display, Keshah placed his order first. "I'll get a dozen green asparagus rolls for myself."

I considered taking some if any remained, though the counter was well stocked. Inquiries followed regarding whether they had diced ham, paste cream, or cream buns, and it was noted that salads were not part of their trade. When the baker made a remark about refusing cream buns to certain sorts, Dae chimed in to explain that while they did bake them, they did not sell to local delicatessens. I protested good-naturedly that while some likened my appetite to that of a hobbit, I hardly deserved to be denied. When the shopkeeper jokingly maintained the refusal, the response was a theatrical capitulation: asparagus rolls would do, appearing suitably healthy anyway.

I added that a cake was also needed to bring along to a friend's house. Lizette promptly inquired whose house she meant, joining another curious bystander. When asked about preferences, the shopkeeper explained that cinnamon rolls were a favorite, prompting the group to add them to the selection.

Lizette addressed the counter with a smile, remarking on that he had simply brought his friends along today to give the shop good business. Relenting at Dae's presence, the baker agreed that since they were accompanying Dae, they could purchase cream buns after all.

"They come in twenties," the baker cautioned.

That proved entirely acceptable. The baker settled on a baker's dozen—thirteen racks of twenty, amounting to two hundred and sixty buns in total. When asked if they had means to carry them, I felt confident the haul could be tucked into my hefty carry capacity backpack—save for one which I took immediately, eating it on the spot with the defense that there was never room for the final bun anyway. I noted that despite my elven appearance, people often joked I was hollow inside given how much I could eat.

Turning back to gifts, Lizette asked if there was something suitable to take to Dae's mother's house. The baker reiterated that she was quite fond of cinnamon buns, and offered cinnamon twists as well for variety. The group agreed on the twists. To complete the parcel, the baker recommended a crushed tea she was especially partial to, which was gratefully accepted.

Chapter 16: Provisions at the Bakery

The adventurers conclude an unusual shopping trip at the bakery, packing away specialized tea, eccentric loaves, and hundreds of buns.

The adventurers conclude an unusual shopping trip at the bakery, packing away specialized tea, eccentric loaves, and hundreds of buns.

At the counter, an unfamiliar blend caught the eye. "Tea," came the quiet remark.

"What's that?" the shopkeeper asked, before clarifying with a nod. "It's a special blend which goes in a teapot. And makes a very nice herbal drink, cup of tea."

I offered an appreciative smile. "Well, I've been a bit of a tea connoisseur, but I don't think I've ever had that." Deciding quickly, I added, "Yes, I'll get some."

"Oh, this is the Red Dawn variety," came the vendor's explanation, nodding along. "So I assume it's... I guess it's appropriate."

"Alright, well, that will come to—that will come to five hundred and seventy silver pennies."

"How much? I'll go five hundred."

"Five hundred and seventy," the vendor insisted flatly.

"Hey, the man, would you like that?"

Lizette offered to cover the bill. "Sure. I'll, I'll pay. And also the—"

"Cinnamon twists? You wanted some for you."

"Yes," the baker agreed. "So you're after cinnamon twists, yes, please. Yes, do you want also the tea, as we spoke about?"

"Yes, please. I would... yeah, I'll take the tea."

"Oh, do you want the tea as well?" someone asked.

Keshah cut in, sorting through the confusion. "As well? No, no, she wants the tea. Yes."

"Who wants?"

"I don't. She wants the tea, she wants the twists."

"Okay, well the tea will be thirty silvers, sorry about that," the baker calculated. "The tea will be thirty silvers and... and the twists will be seven."

"Okay, excellent, thank you."

"Today would you like... would you like a pre-buttered loaf?"

"Yes, please. Just as much buttering as you can get."

"Okay. Yeah, we'll bring out a pre-buttered loaf," the shopkeeper said, presenting the specialty. "Pre-buttered loaf, it's banana and hazelnut loaf, which has got honey drizzled across the top, and already pre-cut with butter sliced through it, and stuffed with fresh olives, pickles, and strawberries."

"Interesting," came the hesitant response from beside the counter.

I leaned in to peer at the peculiar confection. "Yeah, I look forward to tasting that. I wouldn't have thought you'd mix olives and strawberries together, to be quite honest. I mean, they're completely different flavors."

"We will find out soon."

"I suppose you would," the vendor conceded with a faint shrug. "Now, your... red asparagus, what? Are you going to be buying any red asparagus?"

"No, just the green ones." I replied.

"Are you sure about the red ones? These help you see underground."

"Are you sure they're not carrots in disguise?" I asked.

"I know what carrots are," the shopkeeper answered firmly.

"So do I. I think they're not. These are not carrots."

"Yes, carrots also let you see underground."

Keshah stared in disbelief. "What? Carrots also help you see underground as well? Well, that's a bit of a..."

"These are made with turnips," someone interjected, correcting the claim. "Special turnips. Magic turnips. Yes. But anyway, turnips."

With purchases settled and parcels wrapped, the companions stepped out of the bakery, loaded down with their odd assortment of rations.

"Stacked up with the... stacked up? Where are you putting the two hundred and sixty?"

I tapped her pack with a knowing grin. "I got a backpack that can take more than what it looks."

Chapter 17: Dae's Cottage

A finely carved statue of Dae stands proudly in the sunlit garden of his woodland cottage.

A finely carved statue of Dae stands proudly in the sunlit garden of his woodland cottage.

With storage sorted, we set about packing up the provisions, Keshah helping load buns into the extradimensional space tray after tray.

"Well, that was proper," someone remarked warmly, while another mused that perhaps they ought to have picked some flowers. Behind us, the shop's open sign was flipped to closed—or jokingly the other way around—having sold their entire stock and then some. Still, it was undeniably good to be back. With our business concluded, they headed out of town and down the road.

Thirty minutes later, the walk brought them to Dae's front yard. Resting right in the front yard was a startling sight: a small statue of Dae.

"What the f**k?" Dae exclaimed.

"Oh wow, you're famous," came the amused reaction from Keshah. "Yeah, famous in his own time." I added.

"How accurate is it?" Lizette asked, before adding, "Perfectly accurate."

"I was beginning to wonder whether or not it had been done by a medusa," I remarked, "but then that would imply—otherwise he wouldn't be walking around in front of us."

Past the stone likeness stood Dae's home—a lovely little cottage set among the trees in a bright, sunny clearing, surrounded by pleasant grounds.

"You know, if I didn't have the Manor, I'd like a place like this," I admitted.

"Lovely," a companion agreed. "Flowers all around, lovely grounds."

From just beyond the clearing came the tranquil sound of a running brook which I was tempted to investigate but concluded that would be rude without permission.

Night 2

Chapter 18: A Garden of Stone and Scolding

Party Summary & Adventure Summary

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Dae's mother greets the party with a barrage of weeds and garden scolding outside the family home.

Dae's mother greets the party with a barrage of weeds and garden scolding outside the family home.

The forest air carried a gentle breeze rustling through the high canopy, casting dappled sunlight across the wide herb gardens that surrounded Dae’s family home. It was a particularly pleasant time of year, yet the most arresting feature of the estate was not the foliage, but a large, newly crafted statue standing prominently in the garden. The craftsmanship was undeniably fine—far beyond crude amateurism, boasting the sort of deliberate detail and polished finish worthy of an accomplished master like Sabastian.

"Why are they making statues of you, Dae?" came the question. "So it's easier for people to recognise and hunt you?"

"Bronze statues are generally more mobile," Keshah noted.

"I love my mother," Dae sighed, warning them to stick to the road and stay out of the greenery, "but she's a little bit of a psychopath."

"So what can we tell her about you that will put her mind at ease and make her happier?" Lizette asked

Before Dae could fully explain, a figure abruptly rose from behind a dense bush. Dae's mother, an elven woman speaking in accented Common, fixed a glare upon the travellers and brandished a clutch of pulled weeds in one hand and a garden trowel in the other.

"You are bad!" she scolded sharply, advancing on them. "Moving my Dae away from me! What is wrong with you?"

She punctuated her displeasure by swatting Dae with the muddy roots and pelting the group with dead flower clippings. Attempts were made to appease her—reminding her that while a mother naturally possessed first claim on her child, it was surely a virtue that he ventured out into the world. Her indignation remained unmoved.

"Dae, come inside!" she snapped, wheeling about toward the doorway. "And leave the trash on the lawn! Quick, quick, there are things to discuss!"

Left standing on the path, the companions exchanged resigned glances. It was abundantly clear that none of the rest of them had been invited across the threshold. Taking in the garden ornament once more, I scrutinised the likeness with a speculative, magical eye, half-wondering whether it was an enchanted guardian golem waiting to animate into a miniature Dae monster. Dae muttered that if it were, it would certainly possess more endurance than he did.

Outside, we quietly conferred, agreeing it was wisest to remain outside and wait until the domestic fireworks settled before attempting an entrance.

Inside, Dae’s mother wasted no time. "I understand from my sisters at Slippery Rock that you are off to Adjepbar," she said.

"Indeed I am," Dae acknowledged.

"This is very good," she nodded briskly, noting that he was well respected there. Should trouble arise, she explained that she had an advantageous contact in the city: a dwarf named Ernest Rockfall, a lieutenant in the town guard who owed their family a favor. He was, by her reckoning, a good dwarf and a man on the rise.

Dae took note of the name. "All right, Mother. Anything else I should look out for?"

"Well, of course you know about the blue sands, don't you?"

"I've heard about it," he replied guardedly.

Without another word, she turned, fetched an empty glass jar from her stores, and thrust it directly into his hands with unmistakable intent.

"Mother..." Dae sighed.

Chapter 19: Of Blue Sands and Mothers

Dae's mother examines a sample of blue sand on her porch while tasking the party with acquiring more from Adjepbar.

Dae's mother examines a sample of blue sand on her porch while tasking the party with acquiring more from Adjepbar.

"I need this filled with blue sands," Dae's mother insisted, setting her requirements before her son.

"Mother, have you fallen to these temptations?" Dae asked, eyeing her with growing wariness.

"It's for my research, please. I'm very close to breaking five extra quantum levels of curses."

"Is this why you were missing the whole last year?" Dae pressed. "Have you become a blue sands acolyte?"

"No, of course not," she snapped dismissively. "I was discussing things with some women who dress in red dresses."

"I will keep away from them—"

"As it turns out, they'll be keeping away from us," she said firmly.

"Good to hear," Dae murmured.

"Yes," Keshah agreed quietly from nearby, while Dae added, "Us in general."

"Okay, me," she conceded with a sharp glance. "So be careful."

"All right, so one job," Dae acknowledged.

His mother's gaze flicked past him toward the garden path. "And that woman, the one with all the cleavage outside. Who is she?" That was definitely a reference to Lizette. . 

"Mother, I do not plan on having any offspring with the other races," Dae answered flatly.

"Very good. Very good," she muttered approvingly. "Yes, that's what I told the crowns."

"Now you're just making them probably try to get an elf crown," Dae grumbled. If only she knew that they were about to get one, mainly me.

"Okay," she said. Dae motioned backward toward his companions. "These people have presents for you."

Turning toward the exterior, the apothecary raised her voice. "You can come in now. You too. You can sit on the deck, Ms. Hussy." That was definitely directed at Lizette, much to my amusement.

"Thank you," Keshah offered politely as they stepped forward.

"Oh, does she have cats?" I asked, glancing around.

Sure enough, a sleek feline was perched nearby, watching their approach intently. I caught sight of the animal and discreetly prepared my *Speak with Animals* incantation, hoping merely to listen in rather than initiate a full conversation. At the threshold, Lizette presented our offerings, handing over fresh cinnamon twists before obediently taking a seat on the deck. I stepped up to supplement the gift, setting down a generous assortment of buns alongside the pastries.

The mistress of the house reappeared bearing cups and a steaming teapot for the porch. She immediately directed a sharp eye at Lizette. "No more sideways looks from you. It's very unbecoming."

"I was just going to remind Aurora that she had something else for you," Lizette explained cautiously.

"Can you use your words out loud rather than speaking out of the corner of your mouth?"

"I apologise," Lizette said, ducking her head.

Meanwhile, my magical senses caught a peculiar rhythm from the corner of the deck. The cat was mumbling an arcane incantation under its breath. I raised an eyebrow, straining to listen as the feline worked steadily through its casting. Realising the creature was already halfway through an intricate spell, I thought better of meddling and decided to leave the chanting cat well enough alone.

Lizette ventured another attempt to smooth over the frosty reception. "I apologise for the misunderstanding. I am not trying to steal your son."

"It wasn't a misunderstanding," Dae's mother countered coldly. "I heard you outside quite plainly telling him how to lie to his mother."

"No, no," Lizette protested earnestly. "I was asking him how we should talk him up the most to show you the progress he has become."

"So... anyway," Dae's mother muttered, shifting her attention toward me. "You young lady, what's your surname?"

There was a noticeable pause. "Steelwind," I answered.

"Oh, that took a while, didn't it?"

"Yeah, I don't actually use it that often," I admitted with a faint smile. "In the Western Kingdoms I usually go by Dawn, not Steelwind. But Steelwind is the family name back in Alfheim."

Switching effortlessly into elven, the older woman studied me. "I presume you are Keshah."

"I am indeed," he replied in kind.

"Your reputation precedes you."

"Hopefully not too bad,"

"It is gaining some traction," Dae's mother said, her tone measuring. "There are those amongst the clans that would follow someone of your ilk."

"I generally try to keep away from politics," Keshah replied as one of my ears twitched conspicuously toward the chanting cat as I leaned subtly in its direction.

"I understand you're taking Dae away to Adjepbar," the matriarch said, returning to Common.

"Yes, we have a few missions down there,"Keshah replied. "Hopefully nothing too violent or dangerous, but there's a few things going on."

"I understand some of your ilk learn to improve themselves," she observed, her eyes drifting back toward Lizette.

"I think a lot of—assuming you mean... okay, yes, a lot of them do," Lizette fumbled, caught off guard. "You don't consider yourself human?"

"No, no. I am human," Lizette clarified dryly. "It wasn't the first group I thought you were associating me with, and both groups try to improve themselves.

“What other group did you think I was associating you with?"

"Possibly the guild?" Lizette offered meekly.

"You're a guild member dressed like that?" the woman scoffed, eyeing her attire.

"Sorry?"

"You are a guild member dressed like that.". That made me think of several Guild members who do go around dressed more revealingly than Lizette. If only she knew.

"This is a glamour which is actually my armour," Lizette explained, gesturing at her ensemble.

"Dressed like that," the mother repeated with unmistakable disapproval.

Keshah couldn't resist chiming in. "We don't let her go out wandering on her own. She's a kidnap risk."

"Yes, I am quite grateful to Keshah for his protection," Lizette conceded gracefully. Seeking common ground, she added, "I was actually with your son the time we dealt with the djinn in Adjepbar."

"Indeed," Dae seconded.

"Right, nothing untoward," Lizette continued

 Dae's mother’s  brow furrowed. "What were you doing with my son in Adjepbar with a djinn?"

"Um, we were—"

"Who's we?"

"The guild party," Lizette explained quickly. "We were dealing with a problem that had a djinn rather upset. And it was to the good of everyone that things got solved and it became less upset."

Beside them, I had to fight to keep a straight face. The sheer potential for awful puns spun wildly through my mind, battling against an overwhelming urge to giggle as I pictured Dae, Lizette, and a runaway ‘gin’ bottle.

"You are correct," Dae broke in, rescuing the narrative. "They are very impressed with us in Adjepbar. We helped the djinn solve his problem, we are on good terms with the djinn, and travel took time, but that's all."

Satisfied or simply choosing to move past the topic, Dae’s mother produced a clear glass jar and set it firmly in the middle of the porch table. "Since you're going to Adjepbar, it would be useful to return with some blue sands."

"I think I got some of those," I said, rummaging through my kit.

Keshah promptly retrieved a small vial and passed over a sample.

The older woman inspected the grains through the glass. "Yes, this type of stuff. I'm perfecting a modification to Remove Curse using this,"

"We got a few samples down there last time," Keshah said in his steady, measured cadence. "Obviously we will collect more."

"It can be addictive," Dae's mother warned, looking up at the party.

Keshah shrugged lightly. "Well, only if you consume it."

Chapter 20: Sands of the Desert Beast

Dae's mother examines the vial of blue sand water while sharing rumors of desert crypts and subterranean horrors.

Dae's mother examines the vial of blue sand water while sharing rumors of desert crypts and subterranean horrors.

Nearby, I hid a grin before producing a vessel. 

"Oh, here it is," I said. "I don't suppose that this healing water was made of blue sand? It is blue. I was going to get that checked, but I never got around to it."

Dae’s mother waved her hand over the liquid, nodding in recognition. "Yes, this has blue sands in it. It comes from the centre of the desert."

"And so it obviously dissolves in water," I observed.

"We must go and check it more carefully then," Keshah agreed.

I nodded. "Apparently I was told that in the Blue District, partaking in blue sand makes one think they're underwater, hallucinating fish or something."

"Only if you're in the Blue District," the mother countered calmly. "They cut it with white sands to have that effect."

"Oh. So there are many different types of sands?"

"Yes, of course."

"That's actually very interesting," I remarked. "Not that I’m an expert in that. Anyway, I apologise for the interruption."

"Will one jar be enough?" Dae’s mother asked, presenting a substantial container.

"Probably, that's quite a large jar," I admitted. 

Lizette took the jar carefully, agreeing they would need to investigate its properties further, before sliding it safely into her bag of holding. 

"There are blue cultists that you should keep an eye out for," Dae’s mother warned the group. "Be wary of them."

"What is the blue cult? What are the cultists' aims?" Keshah asked.

The mother chimed in, noting she had already given Dae the name of a local family contact who might be of assistance before answering. "I think that there is a creature buried somewhere in the desert that attracts the water from the sea to pour into it. There is a rumour that the sea pours off like a waterfall into the desert and down into a giant hole."

"I think I heard something like that," I murmured.

"And the blue sand is a byproduct of this?" Lizette inquired.

"No," the mother clarified. "You asked what their aims were. There is a creature at the bottom, and they wish to free it. They kind of worship it."

"Hang on," I said, frowning. "I think that has something to do with the octopus parade”

“Some of the octopus people are involved..."

Keshah recalled old lore. "Is it the Kraken? I remember hearing something about it needing the Kraken's heart, up in the North Sea. Is it the only one?"

"There's a creature in the desert swallowing the ocean, apparently," Keshah said, pondering the mystery. "Something new to explore. The water pours into a hole and never fills—it's probably draining off-plane somewhere."

"That is what they are trying to accomplish," the mother

I stroked my chin, recalling another fragment of lore. "I was trying to remember... sunrise over the blue sands, keeping an eye out for scorpions. I did see one, but it skedaddled. There were also blue sparks around."

"The scorpions at dawn point their tails toward the crypt," the mother explained. "And because you fly, you will see red flares and blue sparks in the sky."

Lizette pressed for details: "What is this crypt you mentioned?"

"That will be where the creature or the goddess lies," Keshah guessed, while Dae’s mother reiterated that the dawn scorpions guide the path to the crypt itself.

I blew out a breath, reining in the speculation. "I should point out that we are actually on a mission. I really don't want a repetition of last season when we got sidetracked, failed to do the job, and ended up chasing everything else. We should really get the job done this time."

"It is still good to know about these things," Keshah countered.

"I know, but still," I sighed, before remembering another errand. "Oh, I have to see some leather-smiths too. I set up trade opportunities for them in Adjepbar and keep forgetting to tell them."

The apothecary turned, looking between them then looked at Lizette. "What is your name, dear? Do you have a name?"

Keshah motioned toward their companion. "Lady Lizette Summers looks as if she's a merchant. Why don't you get her engaged in it?"

"That's probably a good idea," I agreed. "I have the list from when we were posing as merchants down there to avoid suspicion."

"How did that work?" the apothecary asked.

"Reasonably well, actually," I said, "until we found cultists under the baths—no, wait, cultists in the crypts, necromancers. Things sort of went downhill from there."

With preparations winding down, the mother turned her gaze warmly upon Dae. "So, Dae. I don't expect you back for supper. But if you are going to be away for more than a month, how about you write to your mother? To me."

"Write to..." Dae blinked, then managed a nod. "I'll try."

"I can always send a message by carrier pigeon," I offered

"They could probably make it that far," Lizette added with an encouraging smile.

"Yes," Dae conceded, bowing his head to his mother. "All right."

Chapter 21: Carrier Chickens and Parting Courtesies

Dae's mother presents her carrier chickens before the adventurers take flight from the cottage.

Dae's mother presents her carrier chickens before the adventurers take flight from the cottage.

A suggestion arose to speak with avians or fasten a message slip to a bird's leg and let it take flight. Agreeing to see what could be arranged, Dae's mother promised to return in a moment and stepped around the side of the house.

While she was away, the cottage cat finished what it was doing and continued muttering away in Cat. Sensing the creature's grumbling, I gave it a pointed look. The feline was grumbling under its breath about inhumane filth being brought around the property, wondering how the mistress could stomach anything dragged in on such a day. 

Looking back at the cat, I replied in its own tongue, "And when was the last time you dragged in a mouse?"

Dae noted that the household beasts seemed to talk about them quite a bit. The cat promptly sniffed that it hadn't been talking about her, a concession I took as a compliment. Flicking its ears, the cat muttered in Cat that the other creature was like an overripe fruit ready to be plucked, overwhelmed by its own ripening state.

Before that critique could go any further, Dae's mother reappeared from around the corner carrying a brood of chickens perched neatly along a single stick.

"Carrier chickens," came the dry observation from Keshah.

"I wasn't expecting chickens," I admitted.

"I don't have doves, but these will do," the mother declared briskly. Reminded that chickens could hardly deliver letters across the province, she countered that they had just claimed magic could make anything fly, strap a missive to their legs, and bring them safely back.

I patiently explained avian mechanics: chickens were top-heavy flutterers rather than true flyers, sporting little wings that could never manage a cross-country trek. Even if a flight spell lifted one, it would likely expire halfway through. Given a distance of some four hundred and fifty miles, a chicken would simply lack the range, spell or no spell. Dae's mother wondered if another enchantment could assist, but I shook my head; I would find a suitable local wild bird with proper long-range capability later. 

Looking down at the stick, one of the chickens blinked quizzically at me, then blinked again. I licked her lips at the bird, prompting the suggestion that I simply speak with it. While I possessed the ability to converse with avians, I demurred—chickens had terribly little of interest to say, though I insisted I wasn't being elitist about it.

Calling an end to the entertaining visit, Dae's mother bade them take the fresh trash out on their way and wished them good fortune. The party thanked her warmly for afternoon tea and her hospitality, promising that things would remain safe under Keshah's watch. 

As the door shut behind her, Dae offered an embarrassed apology for his mother's lack of tact and unvarnished prejudices. I waved it off, noting that living in the Western Kingdoms meant dealing with difficult folk constantly. Besides, the woman had looked after Dae, so she couldn't be entirely bad.

Our attention turned toward the strange statue standing in the front yard. Dae explained it was a magical gift intended to eventually permit communication across vast distances, though it required blue sand to function properly. Rather than leaving it exposed outside, his mother planned to move it into the parlour—firmly forbidding Dae from giving it away to any questionable suitors or settling down with the wrong crowd. Dae defended himself against her parting gibes, insisting there had been no breeding involved and that the earlier affair was purely platonic. The companions playfully teased him about his mother's lofty expectations for an upper-class elven bride or a princess, which cheerfully ruled out company like their own.

With the visit concluded, the party turned back toward the forest path to deliver their leather and report to the Guild. With flight magic ready to lift them above the canopy despite how small it made everyone look from above, we prepared for take-off.

Chapter 22: A Notice of Disappearance

The party reviews their employer's missing persons writ in the Seagate Guild courtyard.

The party reviews their employer's missing persons writ in the Seagate Guild courtyard.

Taking a few measured steps to prepare, I sprang gracefully into the air and took flight, leaving the ground behind. Taking up the rear guard, the last traveller promised to keep an eye on things as the group set their course toward Seagate.

High above the landscape, shimmering stretches of coastline unfurled beneath them. Far to the north—perhaps forty miles off over the bay and sea—large winged creatures drifted lazily along the coastal air currents. Reassured that their flight paths were not converging with the distant beasts, the companions pressed on, completing the twenty-mile stretch.

By three in the afternoon, we touched down in Seagate, feeling thoroughly hot and bothered under the oppressive seasonal heat. As we landed, a guild rep approached us with a surprised expression, noting our swift return. The companions clarified that we had merely completed a brief local errand and had not yet officially set out on our major assignment.

"Ah, I understand," the guild representative remarked. "Well, there is some mail for you—or rather, sent to the Guild concerning you."

The missive was handed over. While we still planned to return our treated leather, consult an astrologer, and exchange our contacts, the letter immediately took precedence as talk turned to our standing under Lizette's leadership. Glancing over the parchment, I noticed it bore the name Selim Celadour —their contracting principal and employer. This was actually new information. The letter read as follows: To the Seagate Adventurers Guild,

I am writing with sadness to formally report the disappearance of an adventuring party present{y under my employment. The party had been undertaking work on my behalf and had remained in at least intermittent contact until recent{y. I have now received no report from them for a troubling length of time, despite attempts to establish their wherea6outs. Of particular concern is the last information I have 6een able to gather concerning their activities. The party apparent{y discovered devils in the 6asement of a building. Following this discovery, they made enquiries with several local temples and spoke3 with members of the clergy regarding these creatures. They then left town. Since that time, I have received no report, message, explanation, or request for assistance from any member of the party. I have been forced to reconstruct their movements through conversations with priests, townsfolk, and others who0 encountered them. At present I cannot determine whether they deliberate{y departed on some urgent business, encountered further danger, or have become victims of whatever circumstances they were investigating. Given the nature of their last known discovery, I do not believe their continued silence should be dismissed as simple negligence. I therefore request that the Seagate Adventurers Guild record the party as missing and make enquiries concerning their whereabouts through any Guild Houses, associated establishments, temples, messengers, or adventurers who may have encountered them. Should any mem6er of this party make contact with the Guild, p[ease instruct them to report their location and condition immediately. I would also appreciate notification of any credible sighting of the party after their departure from the town, however insignificant it may initially appear. I sincere{y hope that there is a perfectly ordinary explanation for their silence. I am increasing{y concerned that there is not. Yours faithfully, Est Selim Caladour Employer and contracting principal of the missing party

The letter made the employer's alarm abundantly clear: an official report on the disappearance of an adventuring party. Reading the lines aloud, we learned that following the discovery of devils in a building's basement, the party had made inquiries with local temples and clergy before abruptly vanishing from town. Since that day, the principal had received neither word, explanation, nor request for aid, and had been forced to reconstruct our movements through secondhand accounts from priests and townsfolk.

Given the demonic nature of our last known discovery, the employer refused to dismiss the silence as mere negligence. The letter formally petitioned the Seagate Adventurers Guild to register the company as missing, initiate inquiries across guild houses, temples, and missions, and place an urgent notice for any credible sighting of the party, demanding they report our condition at once. The notice concluded faithfully from their "esteemed employer and contracting principal."

"Great, they put out a bolo for us," came the wry assessment.

Realising their employer feared the worst, we debated our explanation. A simple truth was agreed upon: we had been thoroughly sidetracked. Between confronting cultists, dealing with a demonic entity, an emergency journey down to Delph, a spell spent sealed in a box, and escorting boatloads of refugees from Syrene's camp up north, we had neglected to send word back to our employer. Though arrangements had been made with our landlady, our contractor had been entirely left in the dark.

Looking ahead to our return to town, mention was made that Kellows would likely request Dae and Keshah stay with them, though returning to their previous lodging seemed preferable. As the guild representative listened, an apologetic dispute arose over whose duty it had been to maintain contact—the party leader or the scribe. Acknowledging that the lapse fell upon our leadership, we agreed on the immediate course of action: go face our employer immediately to explain the detour, our new recruit, and our completed training, and handle the leather afterward.

Chapter 23: A Matter of Leather and Letters

A flustered merchant courier blushes under the gaze of the adventuring company in the front sitting room.

A flustered merchant courier blushes under the gaze of the adventuring company in the front sitting room.

"Well, they did say immediately," I remarked, weighing the gravity of the summons before them.

"They're sending people for us," Lizette pointed out reasonably. "It's far better we go in ourselves than get dragged in."

"Yes," came my dry agreement. "Preferably not by Guild security."

The Guild representative scoffed at the notion. Guild security was hardly going to rough us up, not when we had Keshah in our company. Still, brute force was never the real issue. The true sting lay in the sheer embarrassment of it all—having their names paraded across the front pages of the *Seagate Times* for every Guild member in the city to read. Having read the contents of the letter, confronting the matter head-on seemed the only dignified course.

"Yes, we're going," I affirmed, checking for an address. While there was no street name written plainly, we knew they would have a contact within the Guild to track the man down once they arrived. The Guild representative confirmed the dispatch had travelled all the way from Adjepbar. Since our path led there anyway, returning immediately made the most sense. We would have to slip in quietly under serendipity, contacting our liaisons discreetly through a known halfling inn or dropping a message off at a covert drop point without exposing secret lines. And, of course, we still had to see our primary mission through.

"Let's get rid of this leather stuff first," I asked.

The Guild representative handed over the full dossier to Dae with an amused sigh. "This is what came in regarding your tricky compatriots. Please read it carefully so you understand what sort of trouble you're all in, especially since you are the party leader now."

While sending an advance runner was briefly considered, fast travel meant they would outpace any conventional courier anyway. With only our nightly affairs and the pending leather delivery left to settle, we could be ready to depart within an hour or so, leaving just the short journey from outside the city walls into the gates.

"There is a man waiting in the front sitting room," the representative noted. "Do you wish to speak with him?"

I deduced that was the representative of the leather workers. "Yes, I'll do that right now. Come on, Lizette." I replied

Before heading in, Dae clarified the arrangement. While holding onto the title of trade representative remained an option, there was no need to stay tangled in the logistics. I could simply turn over the gathered contact lists, hand off the leather goods for them to ship, and pass the documentation along to let the merchant house handle the distribution.

Waiting inside the front sitting room sat a young lad, twisting his hands nervously in his seat. I offered a polite greeting, asking if he was the courier sent for the leather.

"Oh yes, yes, I've been waiting here," the boy replied with relief, confessing that his vigil had begun yesterday—or perhaps the day before, as the hours had completely blurred together.

"I know the feeling; got the same problem," I sympathized, opening a notebook and tearing out several pages. "Here are some names and addresses—contact details of traders down in Adjepbar who want leather. Some of them might already have orders attached to them."

The lad accepted the sheets gratefully, though his gaze quickly drifted past me toward the companions, his brow furrowing with sudden curiosity. "Are... are you the healer?"

"Uh, no, that's her," I corrected, indicating Lizette.

Finding himself suddenly face to face with the stately figure, the lad looked Lizette up and down and instantly flushed bright red. Trying to cover his fluster, he stumbled over his words, asking whether what he was seeing was mere clothing or armor. Lizette explained calmly that she wore armor disguised beneath an illusion of everyday garments, explaining the soft drape over the rigid structure underneath. I was currently dressed a lot more modestly.

"It says it was important we know what it looks like as well," the lad mumbled, attempting to steady his composure before timidly bringing up a personal ailment: growing pains.

"Growing pains?" I echoed, glancing over. Hearing about such mundane aches fell well outside my rudimentary knowledge, having only just begun studying the healing arts.

"That's why I was asking if you were the healer," the youth stammered, glancing between the armour and the gentle hands before him. I reminded him that between them, I was merely an junior newly minted apprentice.

"Very good," the flustered young courier managed, ducking his head with an awkward smile. "Oh, I have a master as well. He's... well, he's not nearly as nice as you."

Chapter 24: Growing Pains and Leather Guilds

Lizette mends the young apprentice's growing pains before trade contacts are exchanged.

Lizette mends the young apprentice's growing pains before trade contacts are exchanged.

The young lad was content enough when they returned to him, confirming that the girls had kindly looked after him with oranges, biscuits, and sandwiches. The companions apologized for keeping him waiting, glad to see he had been properly tended to. Turning their attention to his condition, we wondered whether he was unwell. An empathetic check left some ambiguity as to whether he was underfed or overstressed, but the core issue soon became clear: the boy was simply enduring tremendous growing pains. At roughly thirteen years of age, he was shooting up so quickly that his bones seemed to lengthen faster than his flesh could adapt.

Considering the best remedy, Lizette realized that rather than merely soothing his pain, a spell to heal his endurance would set him right in record time. When asked if he was amenable to having the ache relieved, the boy agreed and promptly began unbuttoning his shirt. Smiling, Lizette assured him that this was non-invasive magic—a gentle technique she had learned during her earliest training—and that there was no need to undress.

As the healing magic washed through him, an audible chorus of snaps, crackles, and pops resonated from his joints as everything settled into place. The lad straightened his posture, seeming to gain two full inches on the spot. Grinning, he marveled at how much better he felt, declaring that he was bound to grow tall. He explained that his workshop fed the apprentices real food three times a day—a welcome luxury far superior to sandy bread or the notoriously fibrous C-class rations that Lim the potion maker was always advocating.

The boy elaborated that their supplies came through Arms Ferry, where lush pastures supported cattle runs providing abundant beef and quality hides for the leather workers, who maintained ties with the Sticks Trading Guild. Pleased to hear of the guild's success, the party noted that several merchants had shown interest in their leather wares and promised to return in a couple of months with further names. The lad conveyed his master's well-wishes and bowed respectfully. Returning the bow, the party handed over valuable freight and shipping contacts they had secured from sea captains while arranging their own passage, an offering the young courier gratefully received as extremely useful.

Chapter 25: A Messenger's Reward and Lingering Portents

A generous tip for nine days of waiting, followed by talk of missing-persons notices and forgotten portents.

A generous tip for nine days of waiting, followed by talk of missing-persons notices and forgotten portents.

"Well, good luck on your mystery adventures," the young messenger said warmly.

"Thank you very much. And again, sorry for keeping you waiting," I replied, genuinely apologetic for the delay.

"Oh, that's all right. I've been up here every day for the last nine days," the boy said with an earnest smile. "It's been a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Sorry we kept you waiting so long," I repeated as they spoke.

"Oh, it's fine! It's much better than moving crates back home, and they feed me lunch here. It's so nice."

"Working in a cannery—or a tannery—can be quite hard as well," remarked Keshah.

"Oh yeah," the boy agreed. "Do you know what they used to treat leather with?"

"Mhm, yes," Keshah said, nodding knowingly. "I thought you would."

"Make sure you eat properly. Get lean meat," Lizette told him, drawing out a generous pouch and pressing fifty silver pennies into his hands.

He stared down at the coins, eyes wide and bewildered. "Okay... that is very good of you, mistress. What... what does this oblige me to do?"

"Nothing," Lizette assured him gently. "Nothing at all. You've already done what you were supposed to do."

"It's for the time you spent waiting for us," Keshah explained. "A compensation thereof."

"Oh, I see! Thank you, that is very generous of you," the lad beamed, clutching his unexpected fortune. "I will be leaving now."

"Yes, we should get going too," Lizette said. "We actually have to leave today, not tonight."

Before slipping out, the apprentice paused. "Oh, there are some people looking for you. They were from the Number One Hobbit Detective Agency." "I happen to know someone in it." I replied.

"Who were they looking for, exactly?" Lizette asked.

"All of you. They said somebody reported that you were missing." "I better send them a message." I said with a slight frown.

"Yes, thank you, we're going to sort that out," Lizette told him.

"Can we go?" someone prompted as they stood in the middle of the C Gate.

As the boy skipped off, the Guild clerk gave a dry whistle. "Well, that went very well. Though paying our guests a month's wages in one hit—for a young apprentice like that, it'll probably just earn him beatings when he gets home."

"Only if he doesn't give his cut to the master," Keshah countered.

"Maybe he won't talk about it," Lizette suggested.

"Well, it's also goodwill between the Guild and the populace," I mused with a shrug. "And according to the accountants, goodwill is an asset. An intangible asset, but an asset nonetheless."

Lizette shifted her stance, remembering an outstanding obligation. "We need to find an astrologer."

"What do we need an astrologer for?" the clerk asked.

"Lizette was advised to get an astrology reading," Keshah said. "We really shouldn't wait now."

"Indeed," the clerk sighed, rifling through notes. "We've received 'be on the lookout' notices from the Number One Hobbit Detective Agency looking for you three, as well as messages from your employer alerting us to your unexplained disappearance. Is there anyone else I need to send messages to?"

"Is there a reward for us?" Keshah asked.

"Not yet. Give it a few more weeks, and your employer will probably be looking to hire a new party to compose your replacements."

"We have been traveling the whole day," Dae explained, "and there is a potential shadow lurking above that would be much better to deal with tonight."

"And get this down there in an hour," Lizette added firmly.

"As you wish. I'll go down to the whereabouts of my contact at the Number One Hobbit Detective Agency, or see if I have to fly down to Bolton Bay" I offered. "I can do that while you handle the astrology reading."

"We can get the astrology reading sorted if an astrologist can get here," Keshah noted. "I feel better having it done here where people know the right level of skill."

"Yeah, we'll help you with that," Lizette agreed.

"While you're doing that, I'll head down to the hobbit agency," I confirmed.

Keshah scratched his chin, thinking back. "I will try and remember the exact details about the reference. Lizette was warned that she needed an astrology reading, but I can't personally remember the exact reasons."

"I have a perfect memory," Dae spoke up. "It was back in Slippery Rock, from the lady at the general store."

"Did she give any hint as to what it was about?" Keshah asked, trying to piece together the prophecy before we stepped beneath the stars.

Chapter 26: Omens in the Hide

A prophetic reading from the llama-hide codex reveals strange and unsettling omens for Lizette's future.

A prophetic reading from the llama-hide codex reveals strange and unsettling omens for Lizette's future.

A lingering unease settled over the companions. "I have a feeling we're in it," someone murmured, though memories grew hazy. "I don't remember." Yet the foreboding persisted—a pressing deadline that something dreadful or momentous was about to happen to Lizette, even if none could recall the exact terms.

"If you want, I'll do an astrology reading for Lizette about important impending events," offered Keshah. Lizette wondered aloud how late into the night it would need to be, but the inquiry turned out to be unnecessary. Puzzled by the notion of waiting for a late hour, Keshah glanced upward to gauge the skies, asking what the weather was like and whether the heavens were clear.

Practical debts briefly derailed the divinations. "So we didn't give the leather back," Lizette realized. A brief, muddled debate flared—some thinking they had returned the hides, others correcting them until the cold truth settled: no, they had not, prompting a muttered "Crap." from me. Keshah insisted it simply meant continuing their good work, while I volunteered to deliver the leather myself. If worse came to worst, Lizette reasoned, they could pay for the leather outright. Keshah and I firmly dismissed that idea; it was merely an administrative matter of arranging to return it to the rightful dealers.

I initially thought the leatherworkers were based in Seagate, but Lizette reminded her they were in Arms Ferry, recalling their earlier mention. Aurora checked a mental map, mistaking a southerly point for their destination before Keshah corrected her—Arms Ferry lay up north, right beside the river. Aurora calculated the flight: a half-hour to an hour's journey on the wing, well within her capabilities. Lizette warned they would have to recast spells to sustain the journey, but Aurora pointed out that flying solo with her faerie air wings required no recasting at all. Lizette remained wary of sending her alone, recalling the sinister letters and whatever instructions had been given to haul me back. So I suggested that Dae come with me which he accepted.

Pushing that errand aside, Keshah brought forth a prophetic codex fashioned of finely tanned llama hide, adorned with intricate hieroglyphs and pentagraphs. With clear intent to divine the looming perils facing Lizette, the codex was consulted. Shortly the prophecy unveiled its cryptic verses.

The general outline took shape: Aurora and the 'Night Lights' would lead Lizette to foreign shores, culminating in an unnatural, immaculate conception that would unleash unforeseen developments over a full year of service. Shaken by the omen, Lizette pressed for more exact details. The vision revealed that the strange conception somehow intertwined with ending the bloodline of a Seagate adventurer.

"Child, were you born under the calamity of a death star?" Dae asked solemnly once Keshah passed the reading on. When Lizette doubted it, the talk turned pointedly to bloodlines. Lizette eyed Dae askance, wondering aloud why talk of blood magic brought the warrior to mind. "I haven't been considered a blood mage for years now, thank you—years," came the defensive retort from Dae.

As for the riddle of the "Night Lights," the companions pondered whether it referred to the celestial crowns, noting that the stars of the firmament were indeed night lights. Seeking further clarity on the omens cast from the little bones and the llama hide, we sought the location of this unnatural event. The codex answered in riddles: it would transpire "under the coruscade of crashing waves of life." Lizette wondered whether it signified the chasm out in the desert, but desert sands were hardly known as coruscade of living tides. Still, salt water surged within that sunken opening—and seawater, after all, was life itself.

Chapter 27: A Stone-Cold Surrender

Negotiations take an unexpected turn at the Number One Hobbit Detective Agency after Aurora is petrified on the spot.

Negotiations take an unexpected turn at the Number One Hobbit Detective Agency after Aurora is petrified on the spot.

Before turning to other affairs, a question arose regarding the impending future: was the foreseen event a good thing or a bad thing for Lady Lizette Summers in general terms? The answer came back reassuringly—it was a good thing for Lizette. There it was, then; it was her event and her future, so there was no need to avoid it. Lizette mused that she had previously considered having her ovaries removed—after all, she could always regrow them later—but if the event was supposed to be a blessing, that drastic step seemed unnecessary. Keshah pointed out that whatever might already be growing might not be ovaries at all, though that had not come to pass yet. A guild representative chimed in, noting she was not the only one capable of regrowing ovaries. Miracles did happen, and someone suggested that removing them first would certainly make any regrowth appear all the more miraculous; one might as well go the whole way and take the womb too. Still, Lizette sought reassurance that it was genuinely supposed to be good for her. It was certainly an improvement over prior reports that she had been indisposed with dark afflictions—infested, even. Perhaps the turning tide was related to that, sounding far better than last time, even if no one could say for certain what was at work. Without two trusted allies at hand to help, real trouble might have loomed, especially given that Keshah was a guild member in good standing.

Meanwhile, for Dae and I, since the astrology reading took an hour, we decided to take a trip into town. Our destination was the Number One Hobbit Detective Agency. While one could fly or walk in Seagate, carriage travel was customary for such an errand, so we hired a carriage and rode through the bustling thoroughfares of Seagate, passing street vendors selling piping-hot potatoes and locals loudly bickering over spicy sauces. Eventually, we pulled up outside the front door of the agency, and the doorbell gave a cheerful chime as they entered.

A small hobbit woman stood up from behind the wooden counter. I offered a tentative greeting, only to tense as the hobbit recognized her with a sharp, "Hello, Aurora. How are you?"

"Hi," I replied plainly. "I've just come to turn myself in."

Noting the active inquiry on her, the hobbit woman didn't hesitate: "Well, then don't resist. Stand there." She reached over to a long box, retrieved a wand, and leveled it with a swift *zap*. Aurora offered no resistance, and the magical charge took hold instantly. The wand pivoted as the investigator turned her gaze toward Dae; where Aurora had stood, there was now only solid stone.

Dae inquired why on earth she had petrified an adventurer like Aurora. The hobbit explained, matter of factly, that Aurora was wanted and carried a reward. Dae muttered that they should have gone for the bounty instead, then asked whether the bounty was for Aurora herself or merely for information leading to her. The hobbit answered that it was for both, moving methodically between storage boxes before demanding Dae's identity. Dae initially remarked that names were powerful things, but when pressed to cut to the chase, gave his proper name: Dae. The hobbit relaxed slightly, glad not to be dealing with the actual Keshah, remarking that several folks refused to bring him in.

When asked if Dae was freelancing as some kind of bounty hunter, Dae claimed the original plan had been to escort Aurora to a bar before ending up here. The hobbit sternly warned that no one was cutting in on her claim: Aurora had surrendered of her own free will, which amounted to an open-and-shut confession, and there was a full five grand on the line, five thousand silvers. Dae countered that having physically brought Aurora inside warranted a cut of the prize. Dismissively, the hobbit flicked a single silver coin across the counter, telling the scallywag to take it and get out.

Two other short hobbits suddenly scurried out from beneath the counter, low enough that they did not even need to lift the swinging flap. Dae warned them that they seemed awfully eager to make enemies of the Adventurers of Seagate. The hobbits asked if there was money in that proposition, to which Dae retorted that there was only profit for those aiming to ruin themselves against the guild. Perplexed, the hobbits asked what this talk of enemies was about, insisting they were Seagate locals themselves. Dae pointed out that Aurora was an adventurer in good standing who had simply arrived to clear things up, only to be subjected to what amounted to a blatant kidnapping.

The hobbits defended their actions, arguing they had merely secured someone wandering about who might not have been in her right mind, adding that it was fortunate they hadn't used the wand's alternative setting, which would have left a bloody mess—and a political catastrophe to boot. The younger hobbit folded his arms while the elder considered Dae's words. Five thousand silvers was an enormous sum, and Dae asked who was actually putting up that kind of coin. The hobbit explained that it came from someone connected to a door company—a maple door or barn door outfit—out in Adjepbar, seeking an employee who had gone missing.

Dae confirmed that Aurora was indeed meant to return to Adjepbar through the portals the very next day. Hearing this, the hobbits realized that handing her over to Dae would spare them a grueling month-long journey each way. They agreed to write out a note acknowledging the resolution, but turned back to the division of the purse. Dae magnanimously acknowledged that the hobbits had put in the hard work of securing the contract, but proposed a clean fifty-fifty split for handling the swift delivery.

Chapter 28: Bounties, Pastries, and Town Guards

Susie Sweetfoot and Dae face off with the Seagate town guards while Aurora shares pastries from her seemingly bottomless satchel.

Susie Sweetfoot and Dae face off with the Seagate town guards while Aurora shares pastries from her seemingly bottomless satchel.

Negotiations intensified as Dae pressed the advantage. 'Hold it, hold it a second,' the hobbit urged. 'If you can bring in Keshah, we'll give you fifty percent on both of them. Otherwise, we've got the soft one.' Dae countered with sixty percent, and offered to bring Lady Lizette Summers into the arrangement as well. The halflings quickly huddled together, murmuring amongst themselves before turning back. They agreed to sixty-forty, though they immediately scrambled over who claimed the sixty percent. Dae reminded them of all the lucrative work they could accomplish during the full month they would not spend traveling on the road. The halflings conceded the point; after all, time was money and money was time. When they asked whether Dae wanted their representative to accompany him—to hand over the targets, secure the payout, split the cut, and ensure she returned in one piece without dying—Dae insisted on drafting a formal agreement ensuring payment upon return once confirmation came from the client, alongside letters of introduction. The halflings agreed to send one of their own along with him. With another sudden zap, I snapped fully back to consciousness to find Dae warmly shaking hands with a hobbit, while two additional halflings stood in the room. Bewildered, I asked what had just transpired. The halflings chuckled that Dae was a fierce negotiator, while Dae assured me that everything was now settled and everyone was fine. Shaking off the lingering shock, I began rummaging through my adventuring bag, asking where I had stashed all those pastries. Reaching inside, she started hauling them out one by one—counting past five, six, seven, eight, and nine. Astounded, the halflings asked where one could possibly purchase a magnificent bag that spat out endless baked goods. I explained I had bought the bag in Gunger's Hope and had simply packed an enormous stock into it myself. As the count reached thirteen, the halflings called for a halt lest they all grow fat, though I reminded them I knew full well how much halflings could eat, possessing over one hundred and fifty pastries—perhaps over two hundred—that I intended to share. The halflings formally introduced Susie Sweetfoot, explaining that she would accompany Dae and myself to Adjepbar over the coming days to make introductions with a mutual acquaintance and collect the hefty bounty to split with Dae. Susie eagerly accepted another pastry, beaming up at me, but cheekily wondered aloud what they would possibly eat on the second day of the two-day trek. I blinked in disbelief, joking that I myself had often been called a hobbit in an elf's body, and quietly assessed whether the halfling companion was cute. Handed a note confirming the arrangement, we stepped out onto the street only to be confronted by three Seagate Town Guardsmen. I offered my customary friendly wave, but the guards immediately recognized me from their all-points bulletin as a wanted, high-demand fugitive. When Dae stated he was personally delivering me, Susie Sweetfoot darted forward, aggressively telling the guardsmen to p*** off and fiercely disputing who had rightful claim to me. Dae calmly cited the documented chain of control and valuable property rights, politely bid the guards a good day, and ushered me away while the guards and halflings bickered furiously and trooped away down the street. Remarking that the squabbling was worse than the Western Kingdom's Court, I urged Dae to hurry back before Guild Security caught wind and demanded a cut. Reaching the carriage station, they found a wagon laden with guild supplies—heaped with ten dead pigs—ready for transport.

Chapter 29: Bounties and Best Intentions

The party consults guild officials about collecting their own rescue bounty while Sweet Foot offers unexpected fashion commentary.

The party consults guild officials about collecting their own rescue bounty while Sweet Foot offers unexpected fashion commentary.

Hauling the livestock, we made the journey up toward the Guild in record time. Along the road, signs of trouble lingered: a few dead pigs lay discarded, and nearby stood an encampment of tents pitched across the thoroughfare. A heated argument had broken out, with a crowd of onlookers watching a woman dispute fiercely with a man—the Northerners who had been brought back. Passing the confrontation, the wagon rolled into the Guild yard, and everyone jumped down.

Lady Lizette Summers and Keshah came wandering over to meet us.

"You sort it all out?" came the question.

"Yes, sort of," I replied.

A halfling woman piped up, glancing around to ask where the party was before fixing her attention on Keshah. "I'm Susie Sweetfoot," she announced cheerfully. "You must be Keshah. Oh, I've got a running bet on you. I think that no one's going to bring you in. I'm going to get rich."

Keshah muttered, before checking back with Dae. "So it's all sorted, is it?"

"Um, sort of," Dae hedged aloud, while Susie chirped that it was indeed all settled.

Dae immediately wove a *Mind Speech* spell to link the four of them silently. Catching the mental tether, Keshah fell quiet. Over the telepathic link, Dae explained the real situation: there was an active bounty on bringing them into Adjepbar, and they could collect sixty percent of the payout simply by turning themselves in before any more complications cropped up.

Keshah questioned whether they were merely supporting Dae in this scheme, while a note of caution was raised about guild regulations forbidding adventurers from profiting off selling their own party members. Dae countered that it wasn't selling anyone out, though consulting a guild representative first seemed prudent.

"Is there a guild rep here?" Keshah asked aloud.

A guild representative stepped forward. "What about?"

"Apparently there's a bounty on a couple of us," Keshah said.

"Well, yes, of course we did warn you of that," the representative answered smoothly.

Keshah inquired if there would be any infraction of the rules if Dae collected the bounty.

"As far as I can tell, no, no—that's quite a sensible idea, really," the representative replied. Since an outside bounty hunter might deliver them to imprisonment, they could simply claim they had rescued their companions and return them directly to their employer.

Keshah remained uneasy. "I feel we may be on the hook for the amount paid as bounty, something along those lines. Probably going to rip it out of our—"

"If you've read the letter, he's speaking in sadness," the representative explained. "He thinks that terrible things have happened, and he's offering a reward to get you guys back."

"Terrible things *did* happen—especially to Lizette," Keshah said with a sigh. "But it doesn't feel morally right to get him to pay for us."

"He'd probably just take it out of our payment," Dae pointed out.

"Look, if anyone gets nasty about it, I'll just donate the whole lot to charity," I said. "Or we pay him back out of our earnings. I've got no problem with that."

"We can always just front up and pay for the reward ourselves," Dae agreed.

The guild official squinted at them suspiciously. "Are you guys using funny mind magic? You're all looking really hard at each other."

"No," Keshah and Dae chorused instinctively.

Dae winced and quickly corrected himself. "Also, yes. Because I've got a truth rune on it—I can't lie."

"Oh, it is true," the representative acknowledged with an amused nod.

Susie chimed back in, appraising Keshah with an admiring grin. "Keshah, you're very pretty for a tall person. She then turned to Lizette "And you've got really quite pronounced breasts."

"Yes, the breasts," Lizette agreed dryly. She tugged self-consciously at her attire. "Yeah, I'm thinking maybe this wasn't quite the right outfit to use."

"That's a glorious outfit," Susie insisted.

"Not really sort of street wear," Keshah murmured, "but never mind." Meanwhile I was quietly seething. Lizette's breasts again? Hey. Look over here. I'm RIGHT here. Maybe Dae's mother was right. Thank the Spirits that thought didn't get in the Mind Speech.

Chapter 30: Through the Portal to Adjepbar

The party arrives at the bustling gates of Adjepbar just as the guard commander steps forward to interrogate them.

The party arrives at the bustling gates of Adjepbar just as the guard commander steps forward to interrogate them.

A casual debate over attire lingered in the air—depending on which street one was walking, of course, though it was quickly agreed that certain styles leaned far more toward indoor boudoir wear than proper street clothes.

Taking advantage of the lull, Suzie glanced over at Dae with a grin. "So how does it feel, Dae? To be pulling all these babes like this? You being such a big upstanding elf and all, in the shadow of Keshah. And these two being drop-dead gorgeous... and then there's you and me."

"Hey, I think you're drop-dead gorgeous for a halfling," came my reply.

"No, I'm half your height, honey."

"So? I'm not a part-height."

"A what?"

"A part-height!. I can't help it. Incurable punster."

Rolling her eyes, Suzie steered the conversation back on track. "So, when are we going?"

"Half an hour," Dae answered. "In half an hour, we'll move to the portal room."

"We need six more," I declared, eyeing the supplies. Without missing a beat, six more pastries were produced and handed over. Suzie set about polishing them off in rapid succession, practically slurping them down one after the other. "Oh, you can have one if you want."

"We're going to need to exercise her," Keshah remarked dryly, "otherwise she's going to become a very fat little hobbit."

"I'm not sure I've ever seen another hobbit put it away like that. Not even—oh, what's—no, I've forgotten the name now." I said. I later remembered I meant Jay Cee

Suzie smirked. "You are half-height. You've forgotten the name, you're half-height."

"I know lots of names!"

"Oh yeah, you know all the best names, such as Shorty, Short Stuff, Stumpy..."

"Why would I want to call a hobbit those? Besides, isn't a dwarf usually known as Stumpy?"

"Oh yeah," Suzie conceded breezily, "but some people, you know, elves and stuff, they often get confused." I gave up at that point.

Preparing the portal was no simple task; it took two hours of effort to get the magic to function. Naturally, that called for another six buns. Lizette offered a reminder to speak up whenever fatigue threatened to set in. Looking at the fresh treats, Suzie marveled, "Are those really real?"

"I got them in Gugner's Hope," came my proud confirmation.

Before stepping into the swirling aperture, personal protective enchantments were raised with a fortified self. It took another hour to finish the magic and step through, making it three full hours in total to emerge outside the government of Adjepbar. Everyone ate a pair of buns, and rank-four restoratives were passed around to ward off the magical toll.

Still, the sudden transit took its toll. "How did you make the world change like that? Why do I feel so ghastly?" Suzie asked.

"Our rune magic," Keshah explained. "We just teleported five hundred miles."

I offered her a Restorative. "Drink this and you might feel better." Suzie then stepped aside, threw up a bit, and returned, groaning. "I feel as if I've been trampled by a bull."

"Yeah," Keshah sympathized. "It used to be better magic, but then the world changed and it got a bit harsher."

Outside Adjepbar, it was roughly eight o'clock at night. In the early spring dusk, the light was fading fast. Below them, a rock shelf fell away beside one of the main roads that cut through the open wastelands and broken ground surrounding the formidable city walls. Fortunately, the city gates remained wide open.

"We should head there quickly," Dae urged.

Crowding the gateway was an enormous herd of goats being driven inward through the portal archway. When asked if the herd was moving in or out, Keshah pointed out that goats rarely exit a city. That sparked a brief query over whether the beasts were simple food supplies or connected to the goat cult, though it was quickly clarified that these were very much alive, whereas the cult notoriously favoured dead goats.

"Okay, we have to go to the palace fairly soon," someone noted. "Pretty soon, or they're going to send people for us. They'll want to know when you turn up."

"Maybe we'd better deal with our accommodation first," I suggested. "Let's see if Lady Alba's place is available."

As the group approached the gate, a flurry of activity erupted among the guards. Men were frantically brushing down their tunics, straightening their gear, and jamming helmets onto their heads while a stout dwarf barked orders at them. The dwarven guard commander turned on his heel and stomped straight over to the newcomers.

"Hello, ma'am," he began awkwardly. "You're not a goat herder?"

"No..."

Catching himself, the dwarf cleared his throat. "I'm a guard. How about we try this again: Hello, ma'am. You're not a goat herder?"

Before I could answer, Keshah stepped forward smoothly. "Allow me to introduce Aurora—hero of Adjepbar!"

I flinched and hissed back, "I'm not a hero of Adjepbar, you guys!"

Chapter 31: Audience at the Palace

Hobbit courtiers at the palace receive the party, settling bounties and offering courtly reprimands.

Hobbit courtiers at the palace receive the party, settling bounties and offering courtly reprimands.

The guard squinted, taking in the group and realizing just who was approaching. Keshah was quick to point out that two of our number were celebrated heroes of Adjepbar, offering to introduce them properly. The guard took notice of Lady Lizette Summers, his eyes wandering unreservedly toward her exposed midriff and bodice as he tried, with no subtlety whatsoever, to evaluate her attire. Lizette admitted to her companions that it was a fine dress, though I noted, still slightly annoyed, it was hardly practical streetwear—especially around these parts. While Lizette remarked that one might see similar gowns at court, the guard made it clear they were nowhere near court.

Informing Lizette that she and her revealing ensemble were coming along since she was wanted, the guard stepped in to escort them. When we confirmed that being brought in was precisely why we were there, the guard seemed pleased. Aurora explained that Dae was turning us in, shepherding the lost lambs as it were, and the guard readily agreed that they should proceed to the palace at once. Though Lizette voiced quiet reservations about whether this scheme was entirely sound, we were led on their way.

At the palace, a handful of guards stood watch who were not dwarves, while half a dozen remarkably well-dressed hobbits—draped in pearls, gems, and fine courtier finery—descended the stairs. One of the courtiers recognized Dae with warm familiarity, greeting him and remarking that it had been perhaps two years since their last meeting. Gesturing to the entrance, the courtier pointed out that the doors had been rebuilt and were back on their hinges, asking about the incident where someone had been hurled through the wall. Keshah recalled the jinn that had smashed its way in. Greeted politely, the young hobbit who accompanied the party looked on in absolute awe as the courtiers promptly turned their attention to her, speaking in a rapid flurry of hobbit-ese that I only partially understood.

When the chamberlain indicated that formal custody would not be necessary and assured us that no one should be out of pocket—promising to cover the sixty percent—I tried to interject to explain their side to whoever had sought them. The courtiers paused, firmly requesting silence while the hobbits were speaking, before resuming in their mother tongue. Once satisfied that expenses were accounted for, the chamberlain clapped hands, summoned attendants to draw the necessary funds, and inquired about the bounty owed to the companion. Dae clarified that he owed Suzie nothing. Acknowledging that the party had rescued and brought them back, the officials declared it excellent work, delivering two large sacks of coin: a smaller one for Suzie and a larger sack containing six thousand for Dae, who spat on his hand and sealed the agreement with a handshake. Before concluding the business, Suzie awkwardly conveyed her superior's request to know if they could banish her; upon hearing the affirmative, she gave her thanks.

With business settled, we was told we were free to enjoy the city, and Dae expressed his gratitude for the court’s hospitality, with the courtiers reassuring him that he was ever welcome at the palace. Before we could withdraw, however, Lizette was directed onto her knees as an attendant brought out a cushion. Kneeling down to hear what was required, she listened as the courtier patted her knee and chided her gently. The guards had reported her manner of dress, and the court had not forgotten a previous incident involving consorting with undesirables. Though Lizette defended the past incident as magic, the courtier noted dryly that their magic seemed to attract magic, questioning her current presentation. Accepting the critique, Lizette promised to change. When asked where we intended to stay, Lady Alba’s residence was mentioned, and the courtier assured them there would be ample room. Lizette confirmed that this appearance satisfied the requirement for visiting heroes to report to the palace. With business concluded and the hour advancing to nine we headed toward the De'Rulio house, the companions prepared to take their leave.

Chapter 32: A Misguided Rescue

A well-intentioned ambush goes awry in the Blue District as rat-men attempt to 'rescue' the party from their own guards.

A well-intentioned ambush goes awry in the Blue District as rat-men attempt to 'rescue' the party from their own guards.

By nine o'clock in the evening, dusk was settling fast over the city, and the companions agreed it was time to head back to the inn before darkness overtook the streets. The halfling authorities arranged for a contingent of guards to escort us safely on their way. Walking alongside the company, I leaned toward Keshah and whispered in hushed Elvish, admitting I felt like a chastised child told to keep quiet while the adults were speaking. Keshah reminded me that halflings held absolute authority here as the nobility and ruling elite—a reality I ruefully admitted she had momentarily forgotten.

To their surprise, the captain of the escort piped up in flawless, elegant Elvish, assuring me with a polite chuckle that she would be forgiven. When I asked in shock if he understood the language, the captain proudly declared himself a cunning linguist who knew many tongues. He then noted that a reward had been posted for their tutor, who had been implicated in our mysterious disappearance and brought in for questioning several weeks prior. In fact, the poor scholar was still being held in custody. Alarmed by how much confusion their absence had caused, Lizette and I urged that he be released so their lessons could continue, noting he had done no harm. Lizette checked with Dae, who agreed that securing the tutor's immediate release was more than acceptable.

As the company made our way outside the Citadel toward the inn, casual chatter filled the evening air. The conversation drifted from cultist tales of fabled fallen lands and lost cities to constellations. I mused over the Seven Sisters—a stellar cluster that marked the start of the new year in distant Pasifika, recalling the beaches she had visited there, from pale white coral sand to the dark volcanic sands found further south.

Soon our path led into the distinctive Blue District, where rows of buildings were painted in vibrant azure, their second stories sculpted with unusual shell-shaped reliefs. The tranquil stroll shattered when Dae suddenly called out a warning of immediate danger. Scanning the shadows, we caught sight of a small rat-man hurling a glass bottle straight into the escort. The vial shattered on the paving stones, bursting into a cloud of pungent green vapor.

"Gas grenade!" came the urgent cry. Though I noted the mist would not linger long, three-quarters of the guards were instantly overcome, staggering to their knees before collapsing unconscious into the street. The companions drew their weapons and prepared for battle as half a dozen tall rat-men armed with belts, small bucklers, and curved falchions advanced out of an alleyway.

Stepping forward, their leader addressed the party in rough, broken Elvish: "Make a run for it! We have freed you from these foul guards. Our debt to you is paid!"

Stunned by the misunderstanding, the companions quickly set them straight. "They're our guards! Our escorts!" we called out, explaining that they were entirely friendly with the palace. Realizing their disastrous blunder, the rat-men froze in mortified panic. When Lizette urged them to make a run for it themselves, the creatures wasted no time and promptly scarpered into the alleys.

Chapter 33: A Concussed Escort

The party revives the concussed guardsman following the knockout gas incident.

The party revives the concussed guardsman following the knockout gas incident.

I created a sudden gust which swept through the street as the lingering green vapor was blown away, clearing the air. Lady Lizette Summers, having briefly dropped to her knees under the haze, rose swiftly back to her feet and immediately moved to inspect the fallen guards.

While her companion peered at the stricken patrol with mystical visions to discern the extent of the vapor's effect—noting aloud that knockout gas was rarely ever green—Lizette channeled her magic to cure the poison coursing through them. Within a couple of minutes, and with the hurried assistance of a few passing townsfolk, the guards began to stir. They sat up in bewildered surprise, blinking through the remnants of the mist. All but one managed to stagger upright; a lone soldier remained sprawled on the ground, having struck his head and neck hard against the pavement in his fall.

Seeing him inert, Lizette prepared a deeper diagnostic effort, remarking that the guard would likely need time to recover. Before they could fret further, the captain of the watch brushed dust from his tabard and cleared his throat with official gravity.

"We're not entirely sure what that was," the captain announced, sounding as though he were reciting a standard report rather than truly claiming credit, "but it appears you were attacked. Just as well we were here to protect you."

"Right, well... it sorted out the problem," Keshah replied politely, humoring his bravado. "I'm sure it won't happen again."

"Indeed. Let us get you to your inn before things get entirely out of hand," the captain offered, to which the party readily agreed.

First, however, there was the matter of the soldier still on the cobblestones. Though his comrades propped him up, he remained semi-conscious, giddy, and unsteady on his feet from a severe concussion. Determining that a restoration of endurance was needed, Lizette worked her healing art to mend the head injury.

I leaned in to test the guard's recovering senses, holding up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Twelve," the guard muttered groggily.

"Okay. You just lie there for a little bit."

"Why don't you lean down?" the soldier slurred, peering up with squinted eyes. "If you kiss me on all the cheeks, then I will be cured."

Lizette chuckled at the bold bedside request. "A new healing method! Go for it, Lizette," her companion teased, before Lizette pointed out that the soldier had been staring straight at me when he made his plea. The guard weakly confirmed he was speaking to the one who had asked about his fingers.

Dae hastily cast a sleeping spell to shut the man's advances down, prompting an exasperated look from Keshah. "Why are you knocking him out again? Now we'll have to carry him! He's a human in full armor and he's heavy—just kiss him and make him happy!"

The rest of the patrol pointedly turned their faces to examine the architecture down the street, pretending not to hear a word.

As they steadied the soldier, the banter drifted to the potent aura of physical beauty Lizette had been projecting. Her companion joked that keeping such an overwhelming presence active might actually do a favor by distracting Ernest whenever he caught up, but Lizette insisted she would have to tone it down if they were to walk the city streets safely. The two traded dry suggestions for disguises—ranging from foot plates and chainmail to slipping an ankle-length sack over her head with eyeholes cut out—before wondering aloud whether any local desert customs or modest veils might serve the same purpose without looking quite so ridiculous.

Chapter 34: Return to the Courtyard

The warm, mosaic-tiled courtyard of the inn welcomes the adventurers back from the night's troubles.

The warm, mosaic-tiled courtyard of the inn welcomes the adventurers back from the night's troubles.

The party finally arrived back at our inn after the long night's ordeal. Turning to their guard escort, Dae offered their gratitude, but the guard commander shook his head, insisting that the guards should be thanking them instead. Lizette apologized for how things had turned out, adding that they had felt far safer having the companions around. Dae smoothly reassured him that not another word needed to be said—as far as anyone was concerned, nothing had happened tonight. The guard commander gratefully took his leave, thanking Dae in return.

Before the escort departed, Lizette checked on the guard who had suffered a concussion. The man remained mildly concussed and pleasantly charmed, still glowing from affectionate kisses on his cheeks. A touch of healing mended the head injury, leaving him alert and well. After Keshah thanked the human guard, Rutherford, for his service, the guards took their leave.

Stepping inside, the party was greeted by Marian, Lady Alba's daughter who was sixteen or seventeen, who was thoroughly delighted to see us return. She rushed over and threw her arms around Keshah in a tight hug, catching a mild electric zap in the process. The lively innkeeper, a well-presented woman in her late thirties wearing an apron dusted with flour, was flanked by household staff and her two teenage children—the daughter, and a twelve-year-old son. The three of them clucked and fussed over the arrivals in the spacious entryway.

The house opened up grandly around them, rising an entire floor on both sides with balconies overlooking an interior mosaic courtyard complete with long dining tables, a fountain at its center, and mechanical birds roosting in the courtyard trees. As the hosts chattered rapidly in their halting Common, Keshah worked to follow along and make proper introductions. When Mariam asked whether Dae was Lizette's husband, the notion was quickly dispelled; he was simply a companion of our adventuring party. Dae quipped that he might be as ugly as a human, but he remained an elf, to which Mariam warmly replied that elves and humans lived together in harmony throughout their city.

I inquired whether there had been any further incidents at the bathhouse—specifically whether anyone had heard sirens singing after their sudden departure following the necromantic cultist affair in the basement. Mariam assured them that no singing or further troubles had arisen.

With the visiting dwarves having vacated, Marian led us across to the premier quarters on the opposite side of the building: a grand common hall framed by large mosaic windows, flanked by four private chambers. Marian bid us rest, wash up, and come downstairs whenever we were ready for supper and dessert.

Left to our privacy, the companions retreated into our rooms, the main rooms this time, to change our clothes and tidy ourselves up. Once settled, we brought out the heavy bag earned as their reward for bringing everyone back safely. Untying the pouch revealed several pounds of coin—a generous heap of silver, glints of gold flakes, and copper—ready to be tallied and divided four ways.

Chapter 35: Eyes in the Service Cupboard

Mace brings warning of mechanical spies hidden in the inn's service cupboard.

Mags brings warning of mechanical spies hidden in the inn's service cupboard.

A persistent scratching sounded at the door, soft wood rasping under determined claws. That had to be 'Her Magnificence', the local cat. Another brisk *scratch, scratch, scratch* followed until I cracked the door open. In sauntered Mags. The large, fluffy cat entered with imperial poise, taking in the room with an aloof sweep of her whiskers before deigning to acknowledge its occupants. Fluttering her eyelids, she raised her head, gave the air a deliberate sniff, and headed straight for my quarters, pushing the door until it swung completely wide. Inside, I was half-dressed, caught mid-motion in pulling on the familiar kaftan she had acquired during our previous stay in the city. Seen from behind as she struggled into her robes, she froze at the sound of the swinging door and the demanding meow that accompanied it.

“Hmm. Oh no,” I murmured, hastily weaving a spell of animal speech before turning. “Good afternoon. Good evening, Mags.”

“I have been missing you so much,” the cat declared, her voice settling into my enchanted perception. “You are the only one I can talk to at the moment. There has been so much going on.”

“Oh?” I coaxed. “Jump up on the bed and tell me all about it,”

The cat seemed to imply—or rather, demanded the space to do so herself. With brisk familiarity, Mags scrambled up my leg and across her back—drawing a sharp, pained “Ow!” before landing squarely on the bedding in front of her.

Shedding any pretense of ordinary feline business, Mags shared what she had gathered. Strange currents stirred across the city: the mage in the blue tower was visibly growing in power, and ever since the party had liberated the street rats from their prior servitude, the rodents had been roaming the thoroughfares in an unsettled frenzy, hunting down old bones.

“Does Lady Merda have any news?” I asked, curious about the eccentric cat lady.

“You must follow me,” Mags insisted, ignoring the inquiry entirely.

“What, now?”

“Yes, it is very important.”

I cast a longing look toward the hall. “But so is dessert.”

“Put on some clothes and follow me,” the cat ordered flatly.

Resigned, I finished smoothing down my kaftan and followed Mags into the corridor. The cat paused outside a door and commanded, “Open this door.”

I reached for the handle, drawing immediate questions from her companions. “Wait, where are you going?” Keshah called out.

“I don’t know,” I replied, gesturing vaguely downward. “I’m following the cat. She just told me to open the door.”

“Don’t go wandering by yourself, remember?” Keshah warned. Lizette chimed in with a stern reminder to alert everyone if she intended to step foot outside the inn. I countered playfully that, technically, accompanying a cat meant she was never unaccompanied, to which Keshah dryly retorted that kidnappers would surely respect that distinction.

Heeding the warning not to leave the building, I followed Mags inside a service cupboard.

“Look,” the cat instructed. “Duck down.”

Crouching low into the cramped space, I peered past the shelves. At the rear of the cupboard, a section of the wall had been subtly shifted outward. Tucked into the hollow was a cluster of half a dozen broken, twitching clockwork birds.

“Be careful, they are not dead,” Mags warned softly. “They have been trying to keep an eye on this place.”

“Oh, have they?” I murmured. I carefully began gathering the mechanical surveillance relics, passing them out into the service area where the others could examine them and inspect their auras. Mags noted there were likely a few more positioned along the opposite face of the structure.

Beyond the hidden nook, the inn proved exceptionally comfortable for Dae and the rest of the company. More akin to an upscale private guest house than a standard tavern, the well-appointed suite boasted soaring ceilings, intricate stone mosaic floors, fine woodwork, and plush cushions. Large windows promised to catch the warming morning sunlight, while the split-height furnishings—low and intimate on one flank, full-sized on the other—were crafted to accommodate taller guests, dwarves, and hobbits with equal ease.

As the clockwork birds were stacked away, Marian approached the parlor with a gracious smile, asking if the travelers were ready for supper and dessert.

“Always,” I declared.

Chapter 36: Of Clockwork Birds and Rolled Pancakes

Supper and town gossip downstairs after a long day of intrigue.

Supper and town gossip downstairs after a long day of intrigue.

Lady Lizette Summers blinked, letting out a soft murmur as Dae looked over at her.

"Where are you?" Dae asked. "What? Are you back with us?"

"Yeah, I brought back a whole lot of mechanical birds for you to have a look at," I explained, laying them out side by side. "One, two, three..."

"Okay, I can magically analyze them," Lizette offered.

"I was going to say, examine them for the last spell that impacted them," I said. "Things like, I don't know, Wizard's Eye, Wizard's Ear, Wizard ... whatever they're called."

"Okay, we can," Lizette agreed.

Before we could begin, Mags the cat padded into our midst, brushing against me and rubbing her scent along my legs. Lizette noticed the cat caressing something, and I leaned down to pet the feline very gently, just as instructed. Content with the greeting, the cat clambered up my side and settled onto my shoulder.

"I hope you got armor," Dae teased.

"Everybody's got armor," Keshah replied with a shrug.

I chuckled softly. "I'm quite happy with that if she wants to sit there."

The cat perched proudly upon my shoulder, surveying the room from her elevated vantage point before bounding lightly back down to the floor.

Marian peered over at the table, taking in the strange metal remnants. "What are these? They are broken,"

"More of these mechanical birds," I noted, turning toward Mariam. "Are they yours? You're not missing any, are you? You had nine of them last time I knew."

"I think six," Marian corrected.

"Six? Oh, I thought there were nine," I mused.

"I saw them still on the trees downstairs, didn't I?" Keshah pointed out. "Now, these are foreign spy birds. Why don't you just put them in her bag of holding and we can deal with it after dessert?"

"Yep, all right. They'll be preserved in there," I agreed cheerfully. "Okay, we'll head down for dessert."

"They can all break in there," Lizette added wryly.

"There were those dwarves coming by asking for you guys again as well," Marian mentioned as they gathered their things.

Deciding their investigations could wait, they followed Miriam downstairs to the common hall. A magnificent spread greeted them: rolled-up pancakes heaped with fresh fruits and glistening syrups, cooked fresh right before the patrons. I scanned the warm dining area, wondering if Mags the cat had followed them down.

Half a dozen cooks bustled around the griddles, serving the party alongside three other elves and about four humans. Among them was an older man in his mid-thirties accompanied by three sons, all of them reasonably well-dressed in stylish local town attire. Dae and Aurora had already changed into loose, comfortable local kaftans suited to the lingering warmth of the evening, while Keshah remained clad in his Seagate clothes, maintaining her persona as a traveling bodyguard.

The hall buzzed with evening chatter in Common interspersed with Elvish as guests traded rumors of recent city events. Much of the speculation centered around the so-called "Blandor cult."

"Blandor cult?" Keshah echoed, catching the term.

It was explained that the moniker had arisen after the granary belonging to Blandor and Sons was burned to the ground during an incident involving the octopus people; locals had derisively dubbed the perpetrators the "Blandor cult" ever since.

"So the octopus people are called the Blandor cult now," Keshah murmured. "Does anyone know why they did that?"

"Lots of people have been trying to investigate. Nobody's sure," came the reply.

"But there are lots of rumors," Lizette pointed out.

"Conspiracy theories," I added with a nod.

"Oh, I bet there are plenty of those," came the knowing agreement.

Keshah considered the implications, looking thoughtfully at the lavish food spread. "Has it affected the grain food supply?"

Chapter 37: Tidings at the Table

The companions trade pastries, tales, and troubled city rumors over a crowded tavern meal.

The companions trade pastries, tales, and troubled city rumors over a crowded tavern meal.

Late winter held the town in its quiet grip, a notoriously lean season when larders grew thin. While the lower town wondered where its next bulk stores might come from, the hobbits still managed to keep themselves fed. Fortunately, they were hardly oppressive overlords; to any hobbit hierarchy, securing the food supply was an article of utmost importance.

Attention in the dining hall gravitated easily toward the companions. The townsfolk were well familiar with three of them, but the unfamiliar face drew a steady stream of curious eyes and casual conversation. Seeking to return hospitality, Lady Alba was presented with a fresh assortment of pastries fetched from Carzala earlier that morning. At her mild, teasing query as to whether her own cooking was found lacking, she was swiftly reassured: the delicacies were merely an appreciative offering of local fare, especially since the parcel had to be shared around to whittle the generous stash down from forty. Asparagus rolls and other selections still sat nearby, complemented by a sweet assortment of candied fruits that the elves readily enjoyed.

Across the crowded room, where patrons were seated together enjoying their meal, Lizette sought out Marian. Reaching out with an empathic touch to ensure the innkeeper was holding up, she drew an arched brow from a nearby elf watching across the table. Lizette promptly clarified in Common—and, when met with a prolonged stare, repeated in Elven—that they had helped rescue Marian from necromancers some time back and had departed the city too abruptly to check on her wellbeing. The elf dryly noted that he had understood perfectly well the first time, while remarks passed around the table that having their host unsettled or floating off into trouble would be distinctly bad for business.

Aside from a father and his sons who had traveled in from the west to purchase supplies in town, no visiting merchants were present. Dae leaned into the atmosphere, passing the time by spinning grand tales of past exploits to out-of-towners and anyone willing to listen. He calibrated his heroic embellishments to his audience—building up Lady Arcadia before elven listeners, and praising companions like Ruby to the humans—while others listened in. I was ready to jot down a few notes.

Through easy conversation and courtly probing, darker currents of city gossip soon surfaced. Whispers spoke of a bizarre half-doppelganger god wandering the alleys of the Blue Sector, manifesting as a swirling green mist that caused folk to vanish without a trace. Stranger still were conflicting rumors that doppelgangers enjoyed the discreet protection of the palace—a claim scoffed at by loyalists as scandalous rubbish.

Down along the water, further unrest stirred. The usual schools of fish had failed to arrive, leaving the fisher folk deeply uneasy and worsening the season's scarce food outlook. The companions debated whether the shoals had merely altered their migration or had been pulled into the mysterious hole in the sea. Though a quick aerial reconnaissance over the desert or the open water was tempting to me to spot where the currents might be swallowed down, urgent business called us elsewhere.

Inquiring after Tudor, they received troubling news from Lady Alba. About two weeks prior, the cultured bard had been taken into custody. Rumors had spread that the party had been driven from port and put to sea in tremendous haste; looking for answers regarding their sudden flight, the palace guards had brought Tudor in for questioning.

Chapter 38: Sauce, Stones, and Festivals

A jar of spicy, stone-percolated sauce from the kitchen brings local flavors to the table.

A jar of spicy, stone-percolated sauce from the kitchen brings local flavors to the table.

The party settled in to catch up on what had transpired during their absence. They expected their contact should have been released by now following their request, noting they wanted to hear the moment he returned so plans could proceed. A quick explanation followed: after the necromancer incident, an urgent problem had forced us away for about a week. It had been handled in haste, though an apology was offered for not sending word sooner.

The world had not stayed still, however while we were gone. Dwarves had been sniffing around, prompting me to recall owing one of them a drink and a bath, even if I could not remember which dwarf it was. Worse still, a local artist had come by multiple times claiming someone had promised to pose naked for a statue. He had even approached young Mariam, though he was promptly warned off on account of her age. When the question of the statue was raised, Lizette hastily demurred, explaining they might have misconstrued things earlier and were certainly not keen on naked modeling. I shrugged and offered to take her place, joking that the sculptor had merely insisted on catching the figure in a very particular light.

Local politics were equally fraught. Word in the city indicated mounting pressures and quiet rumors circulating against the Elven academy, driven by powers that be and disgruntled trading houses unhappy with their dealings.

Seeking lighter news, we asked about upcoming festivities. There was the Festival of the Three Feet, associated with hobbits. While some guessed it might involve tying legs together for a race, it was described more as an elaborate festival and dance. Streets would be packed with unfathomable mounds of tomatoes—more than anyone would see in an entire lifetime—and people were expected to make their way through the slippery mess without falling, much to the amusement of onlookers. When concerns arose about dirt and waste, it was explained that water mages scoured the avenues beforehand to ensure cleanliness, and the mashed produce was gathered up afterward rather than thrown away.

Once crushed, the harvest was bottled with olives and special blue stones gathered from deep in the desert. Though questions immediately arose regarding whether these were related to blue dust or sands, they were assured it was a completely different phenomenon. The stones lent a rich, fiery heat to the mixture. Mariam fetched a jar from the kitchen to provide a sample. Bottled the previous year and fully preserved, the sauce sat over the blue stones beneath an unsealed, vented cap that constantly percolated air. A small pour confirmed it was intensely spicy—perhaps a bit too hot for some, but undeniably flavorful.

Attention then turned toward breakfast sweets. Marian was asked, by Lizette, if she might prepare three blue biscuits for the following morning. The restriction was deliberate: once you reached five biscuits, it was notoriously hard to stop eating and even harder to keep count. Limiting the plate to three was the only certain way to ensure nobody accidentally devoured seven, especially for Lizette.

Chapter 39: Rumors, Ogre Runs, and Exhaustion

The companions wind down in the sweltering courtyard as rumors and exhaustion take their toll.

The companions wind down in the sweltering courtyard as rumors and exhaustion take their toll.

A lingering debate over sweet provisions drifted across the table—how one could think they had only four biscuits when they actually had ten, and the sudden realization of being hopelessly addicted. When asked if the confectionery was tied into the strange blue dust affair, the consensus was an easy affirmative.

Turning back to their hostess, the party pressed Marian on a matter of greater concern: what she might know about Tudor. Word had reached them that their language tutor had landed in serious trouble on their account. Marian initially wondered if we meant the house, but once clarified that they spoke of the teacher, she confirmed grim tidings. Tudor had reportedly been arrested, caught up in wild municipal gossip claiming he had conspired with pirates to dispatch them to sea. Other whispers alleged that Ivinian sailors had embarked on piratical ventures with them, or that fur-cloaked northern bandits had ensorcelled us into taking ship.

We quickly set the story straight: the supposed bandits were merely refugees whom we had rescued from an ogre and other foul pursuit far to the north before magicking them to safety. The mention of ogres prompted Mariam to bring up the city's notorious ogre run festival. In response to questions about the event—whether an ogre was greased in oil to be caught, or if it chased bystanders—the lethal reality was laid out. An ogre armed with a colossal mace was turned loose in the city streets, free to wreck anything and smack down anyone in its path. City custom forbade bladed weapons entirely; contenders could only bring the beast down with darts or arrows from ordinary bows. When asked if any aid was offered to the unlucky citizens splattered by the brute's club, the answer was blunt: those struck normally just died. The sole reward for bringing down the monster was civic renown—several days of raucous celebration, especially prestigious for a scion of a noble house. Still, the prospect of taking to the air with flight to spot the rampaging brute held a certain appeal, at least to me.

Steering back to our jailed tutor, Lizette sought Marian's advice on how best to apologize to Tudor and make amends. Marian cheekily asked why we didn't simply ask him in person, dissolving into giggles. She added that the standard approach was either vast amounts of money or feminine wiles. Flustered, Lizette quickly insisted that gold would have to suffice, apologizing for how the inquiry had sounded, which only caused Marian to blush bright red and giggle all the harder.

With snacks finished and rumors gathered, I secured a doggy bag packed with candied fruit for the night. The courtyard remained stiflingly hot—a true scorcher of an evening—though the air promised to turn refreshingly cool in the depths of the night. With every window already propped wide in hopes of catching a draft, Lizette stripped off her outer caftan for sleepwear and took a moment to cast empathy upon Dae.

The magic confirmed what was plain to see: Dae was utterly spent. Passing through two rune portals had stripped his fatigue away, followed by miles of marching up to the palace without food or drink. Reminding one another to speak up before collapsing so restorative magic or costly potions could be shared when needed, the companions conceded that the grueling day was finally at an end, and yielded to sleep.

Chapter 40: Nightfall Whispers and Feline Tidings

Under the quarter moon, Mags reveals both uncanny shadows and dire news from the city below.

Under the quarter moon, Mags reveals both uncanny shadows and dire news from the city below.

Tracing paths across their memories—from the Guild to Slippery Rock, flying all the way and back again, then from the Guild to the Seagate and beyond—we finally paused to catch their breath. We were in a secure spot, safe enough that posting a formal sentry seemed unnecessary. Even so, caution prevailed. Warning stones were carefully placed and attuned, instructed to ignore the two children and their mother while sounding an alarm should any intruder attempt to breach the room. A brief adjustment had to be made for the feline resident, who was notorious for vaulting straight through my bedroom window. Settling the matter of elevation, we confirmed they were up on the third story, high above the ground. Lizette suggested sweeping the perimeter once more to ensure no lurking shadows remained, but exhaustion won the argument; it was late, and sleep was sorely needed.

From the high vantage of the third floor, the view opened wide across the city's slanting rooftops. The urban expanse tumbled down a long valley toward a bustling harbor roughly a mile distant. Faint singing drifted up on the nighttime breeze, carrying across forty or so vessels anchored beneath the pale glow—a quiet armada of sailing crafts and fishing rigs. It was just past midnight, slipping into the early hours of the second day immediately following the guild meeting. The moon hung in its first quarter, precisely the moon phase required by their patron, despite how unusual it seemed to prefer that specific light over the full or new moon.

A spell hummed into place just as Mags the cat took an interest, peering about greedily before marching forward and perching directly on my head. She demanded food with insistent, repeating urgency. With no bacon to offer and an outright refusal to part with candied fruit, a generous solution appeared: a travel platter stocked with enough fish to feed two dozen people. I wisely chose not to stand between the ravenous cat, and the platter, while I placed the feast directly on the floor. Mags immediately darted in and set to devouring the meal.

In the silver moonlight streaming across the floorboards, an eerie trick of vision unfolded. Out of the corner of the eye, Mags appeared to swell to five times her ordinary size, tearing into the fish like a monstrous shadow beast. Yet whenever anyone turned to look directly, she was merely an ordinary cat, thoroughly engrossed in her late-night banquet.

Once her appetite was somewhat appeased, Mags turned her attention to local gossip and warnings. Being high up on the third story was remarkably clever, she noted, because neither the spiders nor the snakes would ever reach us. She revealed that the Blue Tower had begun unleashing blue snakes and blue spiders into the city below. Furthermore, an enigmatic cat woman, Merda, had been making inquiries about our status. Finally, she vented about a troublesome tomcat up the street named Tommy, who persisted in improper advances. When a dry suggestion was made to shove the tom off a fence—recalling a prior encounter that had ended in nasty scratches—it was countered that protective wards against claws were now firmly in place.

Chapter 41: Breakfast and Bespoke Garments

Miriam assists Dae with his wardrobe before serving a clarifying, fiery breakfast of roasted goat.

Marian assists Dae with his wardrobe before serving a clarifying, fiery breakfast of roasted goat.

Morning soon rolled around, heralded by a rap at the door before Marian breezed inside with an airy cheer. She announced good news: the tutor had arrived for the morning lesson, and down below they were already feeding him breakfast while catching up on local gossip. It was definitely time to rise. When it was noted that dressing was overdue, Marian gladly offered her assistance, promising to help ensure everyone was turned out in sensible attire.

Marian went across to help Dae, giving a quick knock on the wood. When Marian stepped in to join him, she eyed his appearance and asked if he planned to wear those fancy foreign garments again today, remarking that he looked remarkably dashing in them before repeating that our tutor had arrived. Dae blinked, asking what kind of tutor had shown up, only to be reminded that the language tutor was there for all of them.

Looking over what to wear around town, Dae noted that he needed to purchase more clothes. Airing out and thoroughly cleaning the leather garments he had worn the day before would take time, and a proper town outfit was needed. Marian took one look at Dae's efforts to clothe himself and told him flatly that he was doing it all wrong, looking entirely odd, and desperately required assistance. Accepting the critique, Dae worked with her for ten minutes while she explained what was amiss and helped him correct it, earning his heartfelt thanks.

Marian then proposed that at nine o'clock, right after our lessons, she would personally escort him to Sandor's—a fine clothier whose wares were top quality, reasonably priced, durable, and particularly adept at keeping the desert sand out. She inquired whether he preferred something that repelled sand or fabric designed to keep him cooler. Dae replied that Sandor's sand-resistant clothes sounded perfect, as he didn't mind the heat at all.

With attire settled, Dae asked what was on offer for breakfast. Marian explained that because we had slept in so late, she hadn't wanted to disturb them, but offered to bring up a meal of goat peel: delicious roasted goat that was peeled, marinated, and served kebab-style. Reassured that genuine meat was involved, we eagerly asked for it to be brought up.

Servings were delivered in bowls, revealing the succulent roasted meat garnished in the center with small, elongated red fruits. Eyeballing the bright red garnish, suspicion immediately arose that it might be a fiery chili or a red pepper. Pulling one out to inspect it and seeking its true generic nature, fingers began to cast a faint glow upon handling the pepper.

Curious about the taste, we found it unexpectedly delicious. Keshah ate a couple of the peppers and found that they staved off hunger while leaving him feeling distinctly more alert. The heat was sharp and intensely clarifying, swiftly clearing out sinuses, ears, and eyes—prompting memories of a spirited court competition held a while back to see who could endure eating the hottest chili.

Chapter 42: Lessons, Rumors, and Stuffed Chilies

A unique local breakfast served alongside the ritual bowls of a language lesson.

A unique local breakfast served alongside the ritual bowls of a language lesson.

Breakfast arrived with an elaborate spread of stuffed chilies arranged with care. Each chili was packed with salty black fish and olives at its core, wrapped tightly in a thin strip of marinated goat meat with savory sauce coated along the inside. Left whole as neat, savory logs rather than sliced, they proved easy to handle and surprisingly delectable.

"This is interesting," came the satisfied murmur around the table as they ate. "Very nice."

"Right, where are we off to today?"

"We need to start working."

Before we could venture forth, our language tutor arrived for our scheduled instruction. For an hour, he guided our recitations, having us repeat phrases and sounds. As he worked, he set out a collection of strange silver bowls filled with shimmering liquids, methodically explaining each step. Through ritualistic magic woven into the instruction, the tongue was subtly imbued into our minds, leaving a faint, tingling impression by the time the hour drew to a close.

Preparations for the street followed. The question arose whether to use the enchantment of Lizette's belt to adjust the temperature gauge for everyone, and whether Alba and her children should be included in its protection. The idea was set aside; as locals, Alba and her family were already attuned to the climate, and shifting their gauge by two notches would feel unnatural to them. Though modifications to air affinity could last a full day, we decided to manage our own protections.

While the tutor packed away his silver bowls, the conversation turned to his recent absence. Asked how the past two weeks had treated him and what had transpired, he offered a wry sigh.

"I was a guest at the palace," he explained. As a man of substance, he had been treated with respect and as well as could be expected, which had been a profound relief both to him and to his wife. Nevertheless, his stay had been an enforced detention. Word had circulated through the court that he had used enchantment to prompt the party to recruit Ivinians from the north and embark on a piracy campaign. Nobody had offered him a direct explanation, but now that we had returned alive and clearly unsold into servitude, his reputation and name were poised to be cleared.

By the time the lesson concluded, the day outside was already hot, the surrounding city humming with the sound of merchants and laborers who had already been hard at work for hours. With breakfast finished and our minds fortified, the adventurers stood ready to step out into the bustle of the town.

Night 3

Chapter 43: The Tutor's Departure

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The tutor bows and excuses himself profusely after the companions finish their training and meal.

The tutor bows and excuses himself profusely after the companions finish their training and meal.

In the chambers, the training session has just drawn to its conclusion. Having completed our lessons and shared a light meal up in our rooms, the moment comes to part ways. Our tutor thanks us kindly, excuses himself profusely, and heads out into the corridor. With the door closed behind him, the companions are left standing around together in the quiet room. I was determined that we should, at least, drop off a note to our employer to let them know we were okay.

Chapter 44: Messages at the Hobbit Arms

A hobbit clerk checks the secure message boxes in the back room of the Royal Hobbit Arms.

A hobbit clerk checks the secure message boxes in the back room of the Royal Hobbit Arms.

Keshah estimated our destination was less than half a mile away, but before we could depart, a knock sounded at the door. Mariun stood in the hallway carrying fresh towels and linens to spruce up the quarters. Seeing the travelers stirring, she asked if we were making preparations for the day's festivities, clarifying that she meant the "tree"—the three-foot race, rather than the Ogre festival. Her mother forbade her from attending that one, deeming it far too bloody. Instead, the girl explained the city's three-foot festival: an unruly contest where pairs had their legs tied together, racing roughly two miles from the docks up to the palace for a winner's purse. The run was slated to begin at midday today.

Leaving the girl to finish tidying the rooms, we slipped down to the front door. We took to the street, winding down the road, cutting around a corner, and dipping down an alleyway until we were well out of view of the main thoroughfare. As we paused, we spotted a nervous-looking lad slip around the alley's bend. The youth stopped to peer back down the street toward the direction we had just come, feigning nonchalance by whittling a piece of wood at the corner while keeping a watchful eye.

Slipping past unnoticed, we navigated through the blue district until the surroundings shifted into a distinctly more affluent quarter. Around ten o'clock in the morning, the clean, cobbled streets were bustling under a tranquil routine. Roughly twenty workers were tending the greenery, watering roadside trees and trimming flowerbeds in the early daylight. Shopkeepers readied fine storefronts, and a good dozen city guards patrolled the handsome, upper-middle-class enclave. Soon, a painted signboard came into view outside a respectable establishment: The Royal Hobbit Arms, an inn and tavern well regarded as a discreet exchange point for messages. This was the ‘Hobbit Arms’ we were looking for, but not realising that it was prefixed by the word ‘Royal’.

Stepping inside, we found the tavern bright and capably staffed. Half a dozen attendants moved about the common room, three of them bustling with platters of food and restocking coals in the hearth. A dozen patrons sat scattered at tables, dining on various morning meals consisting largely of eggs. An attractive hostess approached with a welcoming smile, greeting us and asking if we required a table for four for second breakfast.

She guided us to a pleasant table, set down four glasses, and poured water before asking if we cared to hear the morning specials. She recited an array of calamari—grilled, spiced, and deep-fried—alongside seaweed dumplings and an exotic northern oxtail stew. Remarking that we looked like newcomers visiting on business, she took an order of four oxtails and noted the kitchen's Ground Duck, their lunch special, would be ready in about an hour.

After stepping to the back to pass the kitchen order and speak with someone, staff returned to inquire whether we had come to drop off or receive a message. Confirmed, the hostess ushered me past the dining hall into a tidy rear room. Behind a counter, a hobbit clerk was occupied sorting through stacks of small wooden letter boxes. The clerk glanced up at my arrival with a bright greeting for the pretty lady and asked how he might assist. The hostess excused herself, citing duties in the front, and left us in the private office. Nodding knowingly, the hobbit pulled out a compartment box that slid exclusively toward the interior counter, remarking cheerfully as he checked the contents that a few messages were waiting for us.

Chapter 45: Letters, Apologies, and Lurking Eyes

Suspicious patrons keep a close watch across the tavern floor as letters are drafted.

Suspicious patrons keep a close watch across the tavern floor as letters are drafted.

At the counter, the clerk asked for a name before agreeing that everything needed to be properly processed. Agreeing to swap items, the attendant traded one document for another, popping the received piece inside and sliding it back into the container. When I lingered, to reply to the messages I had just received, the clerk clarified that whatever needed to be written up and sent could not be drafted right at the desk. Instructing me to return to my table, the clerk offered the quill for borrowing. Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and a dwarven face peered inside with a muttered excuse before shutting the door again. The clerk reiterated that the counter was strictly meant for drop-off and pickup, suggesting I take the paperwork back to her seat and perhaps order a beer to deal with correspondence known to get reasonably feisty.

As the dwarf passed by, taking a cautious step back from me, party members caught sight of the exchange. I made her way across the floor, returning to the pub table clutching a fistful of papers, five in all, which I read to the others over the Mind Speech.

The first one read: To my contracted agents. I trust this letter finds you well and that your recent affairs have concluded satisfactorily. I write simply to remind you that there remains the matter of your employment with me. As agreed, there is work awaiting your attention, and certain preparations have already been made on the understanding that you would undertake it. I appreciate that capable people are rarely without demands upon their time. Nevertheless, I would be grateful if you would now make your way to me so that we may proceed. I look forward to seeing you shortly. Your employer, Est Selim Celadour

The second one read: To my agents, I confess myself somewhat puzzled. My previous correspondence appears either not to have reached you or, for reasons I cannot presently understand, has not resulted in your arrival. The work for which you were engaged remains undone. People are waiting upon you. Resources have been committed. Questions are now being asked of me which I had expected, by this point, to be able to answer. I have assured those concerned that you are dependable and that there must be some reasonable explanation for the delay. Please do not make a liar of me. Come as soon as you receive this. Est Selim Celadour

Letter 3: My apparently very distant employees, I am beginning to wonder whether I have somehow misunderstood the meaning of the word *employment*. I had always taken it to mean that one party provides remuneration and the other, at some stage thereafter, undertakes the work for which that remuneration was promised. Perhaps customs have changed. I have now sent messengers. I have written twice. I have postponed arrangements, made excuses on your behalf, and assured increasingly skeptical people that you are, in fact, coming. You are not coming. At least, there is no evidence available to me that you are coming. The matter has not gone away while you have been elsewhere. Quite the opposite. It has become considerably worse. I would therefore ask-beg, if necessary-that you remember who employs you, why you were employed, and what you agreed to do. Please come. Est Selim Celadour

Letter 4: This one was simple The Despairing Employer. My dear employees, Are you alive? I ask this sincerely. It is now one of the more comforting explanations. Est Selim Celadour

Letter 5 actually stung To my absent employees, I have received a most disturbing report concerning your recent activities. It appears that you discovered devils in a basement. I would have thought this, of all things, might warrant a message to your employer. From what I have been able to establish, you discovered the creatures, made enquiries with several of the local temples, spoke with members of the clergy concerning the matter-and then left town. No report was sent to me. No explanation was provided. I do not know whether the devils were destroyed, driven away, imprisoned, summoned deliberately, or are presently sitting comfortably in the basement wondering why everyone has stopped bothering them. More importantly, I do not know whether their presence has any connection to the work for which you were employed. I am now receiving this information second-hand from priests and townsfolk, which places me in the rather embarrassing position of knowing less about the activities of my own employees than apparently half the town does. I understand that circumstances in the field change. I understand that dangerous discoveries sometimes require immediate action. What I do not understand is why, having discovered something as significant as devils beneath a building, you apparently decided that the appropriate next step was to leave town without telling me what happened. Please send me a report. Preferably before I have to ask the temples what my employees are doing again. Your increasingly concerned employer, Est Selim Celadour

The documents proved to be a stern, perplexing reproach from their employer. The sender confessed confusion over why previous correspondence had yielded neither progress nor results, observing that while tasks had been assigned, people left waiting, and resources submitted, questions were now being directed upward that the employer had expected to answer personally. One question in particular turned on the definition of employment itself, typically understood as one party providing remuneration and the other receiving lawful compensation.

Addressed pointedly to their "absent employees," the message conveyed grave alarm over reports that demons had been discovered in the basement—an occurrence one would have expected an employee to promptly report. Instead, we had reportedly grown defensive, questioned locals, and left without offering an explanation or apology. The employer had been placed in the humiliating position of learning about their own operation from half the town, noting that while field conditions shift and travel can be perilous, leaving a principal in the dark was intolerable. Seated right there in the pub, I put a pen to paper to formulate an apology and status report: "The people from the basement were indeed taken care of. However, during the process, one of our party was infected with an alien demon spawn, and this had to be dealt with immediately before it could rip out of her like a chest burster. We then had to take a detour to go down to the Island of Delph and address the situation with all due haste. I deeply regret the inconvenience to you and your associates, and would like to make a time and place for us to meet at your earliest convenience. Again, my most sincere apologies from your most apologetic and extremely late, but we are taking over the job, employees."

Before the ink could even settle, Dae caught sight of a troubling development across the room: the shifty dwarf who had earlier brushed past me was huddled with three humans. Standing with his back turned, the dwarf gestured over his shoulder directly toward our table, while the three men attempted to discreetly glance our way. Moments later, one of the men slipped outside into the street. The remaining two humans and the dwarf crossed the floor and took seats at an adjacent table, keeping only a single empty space between themselves and the party, quickly bringing them onto Keshah's radar as well.

Chapter 46: A Ring of the Cord

Two disguised ruffians confront Aurora at the doorway after the alarm bell sounds.

Two disguised ruffians confront Aurora at the doorway after the alarm bell sounds.

A pair of ruffians with ink inked in sprawling tattoos up their sleeves and supple leather-wrapped armor hidden beneath ordinary town garments settled down a couple of tables away. It was difficult to tell whether they had taken the seats to admire the room or to watch for an opportunity.

When I rose from my seat and wandered past, I immediately drew the room's attention. Two figures moved away from the bar, apparently intent on keeping an eye on my every step, though they were also unmistakably checking me out. The two rough thugs and the dwarves remained planted at their table, while two of the more respectable, upper-class patrons hastily stepped aside to let me pass, lingering only to admire the view. I just ignored them, more intent on delivering the reply.

For now, I wore a flowing blue kaftan that accentuated every curve and contour with regal magnificence; at the moment, it seemed I could make even an unadorned sack look stunning. Around the hall, the common patrons carried ordinary, plain looks, distinct from the serving staff who bore practiced, bored smiles and polished attractiveness.

I slipped down the discreet little corridor running around the kitchen to the quiet drop box room. At the counter, the hobbit greeted me with a polite smile.

"Very good," the hobbit said smoothly. "Now, a few weeks back, there were some people offering to pay me to keep an eye out for whoever was collecting missives. So, I think they were looking for you."

"I think they were looking for anyone communicating with those people that we're communicating with," came the reply. "Is that what you're saying?"

The hobbit looked round with a conspiratorial glance. "I think we understand each other but are you alright? You seem... well, my sister's cousin suffers from the same sort of thing, like a slow stutter. If you take chillies in the morning, it speeds you right up so you can think and act normally. You don't have to be a ditz." I was actually in Mind Speech communication with my companions but I wasn’t about to tell him that. "Oh, I see," I replied evenly. "Yes, I think that might be better. Although I did try that once and concluded that the cure was worse than the disease. But, sometimes, acting like a ditz can be an advantage as people tend to … erm … underestimate you.

Before another word could pass, a bell chimed with a light singing tone. The hobbit looked startled, glancing toward the counter while filing my new massage. "Oh, something's going on."

Out in the main room, about nine humans had entered, their forms draped in voluminous robes that discreetly concealed suits of leather armor beneath the wide sleeves. Two of them stepped to the counter to order waters for the entire company. Sensing trouble brewing, a serving attendant behind the bar pulled firmly on a heavy cord bell. A resonant ring echoed through the back corridor.

"Something's going on up front," the hobbit murmured, glancing nervously toward the doorway. "I think you're welcome to wait here if you want."

"That may indeed be wise," I countered as I started preparing a Knockout Gas spell. Casting in such tight quarters required delicate control, adjusting the spell's magnitude to avoid catching everyone on the floor above within an expansive thirty-five-foot circle. Out in the common hall, a couple of waitresses hurried across the floor to rapidly clear dishes, while patrons picked up their drinks, inkpots, and quills, hastily abandoning the central tables.

Stepping forward to pull open the room's door and see what was unfolding, while casting the spell, I found two broad-shouldered men directly on the other side, their hands already reaching for the latch. One blinked back in sudden surprise, but the second curled his lips into a wide, toothy grin and lunged across the threshold. Just as they crowded the doorway, a heavy clunk sounded from right behind her. That was the hobbit clerk passing out.

Chapter 47: Bounty in the Taproom

A brawl breaks out in the gas-filled taproom as bounty hunters move to claim their prize.

A brawl breaks out in the gas-filled taproom as bounty hunters move to claim their prize.

In the corridor, one of the men suddenly slumped to the floor, overcome. His companion reacted instantly, hurling a pot of black sand violently across the boards; it swooshed through the air, spraying up the walls before cascading back down to blanket the floor in dark, scattering grains.

Inside the taproom, the spell's magic took full effect. The hanging lamps guttered in the sudden, malignant haze as the knockout gas drifted through the room. Patrons and waitstaff succumbed in droves, dropping limp across tables and benches. Behind the counter, the barkeep collapsed alongside four thugs, leaving only three standing upright at the bar. Between the bar and the party's table, three more men remained on their feet, while two ruffians at an adjacent table pushed back their chairs and stood. Nearby against the wall, the fellow with the quill slumped motionless to the floor. With nearly a dozen people unconscious, the taproom floor was crowded with sleeping bodies.

"Yes, there's a bounty on your head," one of the remaining thugs announced, stepping forward. "Come with us quietly. We intend to capture and collect it."

"I don't believe so," came the steady reply from Dae.

The thug held up a crude picture depicting three faces, scowling before lunging straight ahead. Dae shifted his weight, smoothly sidestepping the strike as the ruffian stumbled through empty air.

"You guys should come in quietly," the man pressed, recovering his balance. "You're worth a lot of money, and we have more people coming all the time."

From across the room, another voice cut in toward the intruders addressing Dae: "Actually, you're free to go. Why don't you piss off and leave those ones to us?" “I already collected the bounty. From the Hobbit Detective Agency” Dae countered.

"Ha! Out-of-town hobbits? I don't think so," the thug sneered, glancing over. "It's still an outstanding warrant. We'll sort it out with the bailiff, but I'm not missing out on this money, pal. Accompany us quietly, otherwise you're going to get more of that gas stuff!"

"Well, I wouldn't be the first," came the retort.

"Come with us," the bounty hunter insisted. "I don't think so! You guys have a warrant out for your arrest—you've been bad individuals. Apparently you killed some sort of tutor, or were involved... some sort of pregnancy. He was arrested because some lady got up the duff!"

Through the taproom windows, the threat multiplied. Four more figures were gathering out in the beer garden, while three others loitered in the street just beyond, methodically strapping on arm guards and tightening gear. Near the bar, the three thugs braced themselves, stunned that Dae had so effortlessly avoided a well-aimed jab without taking a scratch. Another ruffian took a swing at Dae, who easily drew his attention and diverted his focus while calling out to bring the party up to speed.

Dae's agility kept him a step ahead; the thug swung again and missed completely. Across the floor, Keshah assessed the chaos, looking up and watching shimmering wind powder float an inch or two into the air before announcing it was time to move. An attacker closed the distance with startling speed, lunging directly at Lizette and landing a heavy punch to the chest.

Chapter 48: A Matter of Bailiffs and Blackout

Keshah's sudden magical darkness blinds the bailiff squad as a brawl breaks out in the garden bar.

Keshah's sudden magical darkness blinds the bailiff squad as a brawl breaks out in the garden bar.

Two of the intruders who rushed into the area collapsed instantly to the ground, but the rest were already vaulting over the low fence outside in the garden bar section. Slipping past the railing and moving toward the open French doors just a few tables away, a squad of about nine men fanned out across the room. They carried themselves with menacing intent, clearly on the job rather than acting like common dungeon ruffians. None of them held bladed swords or lethal arms; instead, they bore flat binding ropes meant for securing prisoners.

Their leader, stepping forward while ducking and weaving side to side, sized up Dae. Though built like a seasoned brawler, Dae could tell this man was roughly on par with him in sheer physical strength, perhaps only a fraction heavier. The others prepared their gear as the spokesman delivered his ultimatum: "This'll go easier on all of you if you come with us. You're coming to the bailiffs whether you like it or not. Apparently there's twenty-five thousand silver resting on these three heads—and in your case, I'm willing to bet there's something riding on your head as well, so you can come along too."

Violence followed swiftly. An uppercut crashed into Dae, though the bailiff looked visibly surprised when the strike failed to drop him to the floor. Closing the distance, the man locked Dae in tight and twisted an arm up behind his back with practiced grappling technique.

Before the enforcers could secure their quarry, Keshah rose to his feet and cast. Instantly, an unnatural magical pitch black filled the air, plunging the entire building and the outdoor tables into total darkness. One of the men had already splashed a bucket of sticky, tar-like black griffey substance near the front door, coating the floor and spattering the walls. With Dae grappling and rolling in the dark amidst the grimy slick, the brawler still managed to keep an arm pinned behind his back.

Amid the sudden blindness, confusion rippled through the bailiffs. Some ducked down while others bounded upright like pogo sticks, frantically guessing whether the dark effect had an upper or lower boundary. They cautiously swept padded bully-boy sticks—heavy truncheons wrapped in thick leather designed to knock bounties senseless rather than kill—through the empty air. Voices murmured in shock, with shouts of "It's gone black!" and "I've gone blind!" punctuated by a gruff order that it was magical darkness. Yet none of the disciplined men truly panicked; only a few were bewildered, while three kept their wits about them, searching high and low. The man wrestling Dae stepped back against the edge of a table, feeling along its surface to orient himself in the pitch black. Through the gloom, four or five stealthy escape routes out of the room remained open for anyone quiet enough to slip away.

Chapter 49: Iron Sand and Shadows

The party ambushes Aurora's captor in the darkened, sand-slicked hallway.

The party ambushes Aurora's captor in the darkened, sand-slicked hallway.

Had I devoted any training to unarmed combat, I might have stood a chance. Instead, I was acutely aware that the burly thug in the shadows completely and utterly outclassed me in close-quarters grappling. So I decided to surrender. With rough efficiency, he wrenched both my arms behind her back and securely latched them fast.

When the rest of the party rounded into the hallway, they found me standing bound in the gloom with the thug looming close behind her, firmly holding her captive. The pair was inching along the wall in the dark, feeling their way step by step back toward the party. I was quite happy to go along with this as I was wanting to talk to their leader, Behind them, shifting within the shadows, rolled a disturbing spectacle: a strange, animated black substance poured and lapped across the floor like water, crawling up the plaster walls and sliding back down again. Resembling an ebony pond of rippling fluid, the animate matter was composed of dark liquid iron sand, spreading from an open cubbyhole room at the far end of the corridor.

The ruffian leaned down, his voice a tense whisper in my ear. "Don't you try anything in this darkness, missey. I don't want you to get hurt. I’ve got a boss who’s quite respectable, of course. This way—we'll just get out of this." Muttering about the magical substance, he added, "We used sands, but it must be one of those that takes all the light out of an area, too. Yeah, liquid iron sand." “I’m just glad it’s not cold iron." I replied matter of factly. “You see I used to be a faerie.” Glancing at her captive form, he faltered awkwardly. "Fairy? Okay, okay, I'm sorry about the iron sands. I didn't mean to take your fairyness away”. “It's all right." I replied smiling. “Let’s just find your boss and sort this out shall we?”

As he kept muttering, the other three moved into position. Waiting by the corner, they struck out at the kidnapper. Caught completely flat-footed, the man collapsed like a house of cards, dropping me as he hit the boards with an astonished grunt. "Who did that?” I called out. “It's dark around here!"

Further down the hall, other voices began shouting into the gloom: "Shut up, everyone! They're moving in this darkness! Listen for where they are!"

Moving fast,we outmaneuvered the unseen pursuers through the suffocating gloom, slipping past the searchers and bursting through the inn's doors out onto the open street. Escaping into the light of the prosperous quarter, they found themselves among upscale storefronts. Private guards hired by neighboring jewelers and bakeries were huddled in discussion with four hobbits, while another half-dozen patrol guards had gathered across the way.

Working quickly, they freed me from my ties. One of the nicely appointed outfit guards strolled over, scrutinizing the group. "No, I'm not gonna have any trouble out of you four, am I?" he challenged, though after looking closer, he stopped short and backed right off, deciding the fallen brute back inside posed no immediate threat to his watch.

Commotion still echoed from the upper stories of the surrounding buildings, where startled residents cried out in terror as creeping darkness billowed toward their windows. Out on the cobbles, a guard shook his fist toward the shadowy mass: "If that's a person in there, you better turn that off, otherwise you're gonna get the town guard down here!"

Spotting an adjoining alleyway, we ducked into the side street. There we quickly cast a counterspell against the gloom, clearing the unnatural pall before swiftly continuing down the thoroughfare. Along the way, half a dozen terrified onlookers ducked low against the walls, fearing some colossal black monstrosity had swooped out of the sky. Pausing near the water's edge, our hands still slick and grimy with residue from the iron sand, the party caught their breath, already wondering who had taken out the bounty on them in the first place.

Chapter 50: Iron Sand and Silver Trays

Master Dae and his companions are warmly received by the palace guard and attendants outside the royal gates.

Master Dae and his companions are warmly received by the palace guard and attendants outside the royal gates.

Shrill screams echoed from the building adjoining the jeweler's shop as the party slipped out into the open air. While one of our number remained completely free of the strange residue, both Lady Lizette and I were visibly contaminated. A minor dusting of the substance washed ceaselessly up and down Lizette's left arm, moving with the same uncanny, animate rhythm that had crawled along the interior walls. On me, the affliction was far worse: heavy tides of iron sand surged up and down her my legs beneath my caftan. In the pitch darkness it had been nearly impossible to see, but as the gloom receded, the true state of the street and their clothing became plain. Any brush against the coated stones had transferred the animated grit distinctly onto flesh and fabric, leaving me coated in copious amounts.

We quickly made their way down the avenue. Rounding the corner at a brisk trot came six dwarven guards, their cloaks emblazoned with large diamonds upon the shoulders, rushing directly toward the jeweler's shop they had just vacated. Pausing along the street, we kept our composure, well aware of the strict, organized guild processes governing commerce and merchandise in the district. Sticking together, we hurried through the lanes.

Touching the afflicted pair directly risked spreading the living grit, but knowledge of magical philosophy suggested that proper medical cleansing fire or a meticulous magical purge by someone unaffected would dislodge the iron sands. Drawing upon our arts at the cost of mounting fatigue, the purge was cast. From Lizette, the sloughed sand gathered on the paving stones into a droopy, donut-shaped mass. A few more exhausting efforts cleared my legs, leaving pretzel-twisted knots of black grit writhing upon the ground. Using a stick, we scooped the substance into an open jar. At first, the stubborn sand refused to yield, sticking out the top and stiffly waving about like a rigid rod. Handled with care, it eventually relaxed and collapsed into an inert heap at the bottom of the container. As the last grains fell away, the world's dull, washed-out tones abruptly vanished, and vivid color snapped back into sharp focus.

Ahead, half a dozen dwarven soldiers double-timed down the thoroughfare. Keeping their heads down, the travelers blended into the flow of traffic—drifting alongside merchants, bustling townsfolk, a long caravan line of camels, and sweepers clearing dung from the paving. Without anyone stopping or accosting them, they emerged into the sunlit expanse of the square before the palace.

Outside the palace gates, we spent thirty-five silver pennies for wine and snacks to recover from the sweltering heat. An attentive attendant came forward, snapped his hands, and reformed broken kindling into sturdy chairs and a table in a seamless flourish. With another flick of his wrists, a vast white tablecloth billowed six feet in every direction before settling immaculately across the wood. "Well of course, please," the man beamed, noting their foreign garb. "Oh, Western kingdoms, oh, so!"

A dwarven guard straightened at the approach and scrutinized the newcomers. "I do not recognize you. Could you step into the light?" Peering closer, his stern demeanor melted instantly. "Oh, Master Dae! Please come this way. Guards, guards, these two need refreshments!"

Within moments, servants circled around bearing silver trays laden with cold glasses of water against the midday heat. "Nothing is more important than serving you water right now. Please, have a drink!" A figure in blue robes clapped his hands together with a soft chime of power. In an instant, every trace of street grime, dust, and dried mud dropped away from our garments and the guards, leaving us thoroughly refreshed.

"Oh, great heroes, please, it is our honor to receive you," the robed man declared, bowing Dae and Lizette toward the palace threshold. "It is never a hassle for the Chamberlain to speak to someone so august as yourself. Please come this way, let us refresh you."

Chapter 51: A Hospitable Summons

A dwarven noble welcomes the party in the palace courtyard, revoking the exorbitant bounty on their heads.

A dwarven noble welcomes the party in the palace courtyard, revoking the exorbitant bounty on their heads.

“Do you wish to take a bath before entering the palace proper?” their dwarven guide inquired politely, his eyebrow arching with mild amusement. A slight twitch pulled at the corner of his cheek in a suppressed smile. “It is only required that I watch you, then. No, please come this way. I just…”

Turning, he led Dae and Lizette across a breathtaking mosaic courtyard. Along one side of the open space, some seventy-five large birds were arranged, bound in some gentle manner. Whether truly living creatures or cunningly wrought facsimiles, they filled the air with song as guests passed. Stopping to concentrate on the melody, one could feel themselves drawn completely into its poignant, otherworldly beauty, enough to bring a faint tear to the corner of an eye.

Moments later, a dwarf came down the stairs, carrying a helmet tucked securely beneath his arm. “Greetings Dae,” the lord announced, coming to a halt before them. He explained that he had put out word earlier that morning regarding their situation. “Have I read the situation right?”

Without waiting for an answer, he clapped his hands. Attendants promptly emerged bearing platters of refreshments—light pastry-wrapped club sandwiches and savory twists. “Please have some refreshments,” the dwarf urged warmly. “You are most welcome. Please, let us sit in the shade.”

With a sharp snap of his fingers, he summoned an aide: a younger, impeccably groomed dwarf clad in ornate, gleaming silver armor clearly tailored for ceremonial display rather than the rigors of battle. “I need town criers on every street corner within the hour to announce that the reward has been removed for the rescue of the heroes,” the lord commanded.

“I understand, my lord,” the armored attendant replied before departing.

Settling into the shaded veranda, the lord explained the misunderstanding. Months prior, word had reached the palace that lowly ruffians were hunting the adventurers for a petty reward. Deeming such a paltry price an outright insult to their renown, the palace had immediately declared a bounty of fifty thousand silver coins on each of their heads. “Because you are worth it,” he said with grand assurance. “Being heroes, we decided that we would safely have you back.”

“Thank you,” came the bemused reply.

“So, do you wish lodgings at the palace while we sort this kerfuffle out, or do you have pressing business that you wish to attend to this evening?” the lord asked. Seeing they intended to move about, he immediately offered protection. “Can I offer you an escort? We have a couple of elves that work for us that could accompany you. Or, of course, I can give you a dozen men if you would prefer.”

He clapped his hands once more, and roughly fifteen heavily armored dwarven soldiers stepped promptly into view. “Will these do, or would you prefer something else?” When alternative scouts were discussed, he nodded readily. “It would be a pleasure, of course. I will give you one of our fastest hounds. They are sleek of foot, good companions, and will blend in with your company.” He paused, casting a pointed glance their way. “And try not to get these ones pregnant like the last ones. I was talking to you,” he muttered.

Remembering their absent allies, he looked around. “Oh yes, where are your two comrades? Are they missing? Do they need rescue? Are they safe?” Reassured that the pair were unharmed and attending to other matters, he nodded with relief. “Very good. I will relax, then. I am sure it is in capable hands.”

His thoughts turned swiftly to the evening's entertainment. “Will you be joining us for the awarding now that you are in town? It is the Festival of the Three Feet—very prestigious. We can have you tonight! Please come back at dusk, or maybe an hour before. We will get you cleaned up and you can hand out the rewards. People will be so pleased to see the very heroes of Adjepbar.”

“Thank you, that will be most appreciated,” the party agreed.

“Now, also, the day after tomorrow will be that very unfortunate festival,” the lord noted, his tone shifting toward solemnity. “Will you be participating in it? Partaking?” Upon hearing their intent to enter, he shook his head slightly. “Yes… that is quite dangerous. I understand. I understand. But you and I have a different understanding of engineering. Those that fall…”

Chapter 52: A Taste of Crystal and Intrigue

A whimsical crystal entrée gives flight to butterflies as Melody prepares to guide the party through the city.

A whimsical crystal entrée gives flight to butterflies as Melody prepares to guide the party through the city.

Talk turned to the upcoming festival, where acts of charity would be seen as a noble blessing to the city. A suggestion was offered that those who were maimed and had carried their wounds for years might best be approached discreetly afterward, as was often the custom.

More pressing matters soon came to the fore. Word had reached the host that the group was employed with a delicate matter in town. According to the spymaster, there had been great ado a month earlier when individuals attempted to frame Lady Lizette’s tutor. Palace officials had seen through the scheme and kept him as an honored guest within the palace walls—a far better fate than being roughed up in the streets over rumors claiming he had gotten Lizette pregnant, or worse, with some manner of evil devil spawn. As noted with a wry shrug, the tutor possessed a rather difficult personality at the best of times.

Meanwhile back at the cafe outside the palace, Attendants poured fine wine and served me a spectacular culinary display poured straight from a bottle. The concoction shifted into sand before reconstituting into food, finally cracking into a delightful crystal from which fluttering butterflies took flight into the air. The server presented it as my entrée, noting it could only be eaten with freezer utensils. It seemed the hosts were truly pushing the boat out to impress me, offering an extensive, if slightly snarky, array of drinks.

While town criers were sent on their rounds, the host suggested the guests either remain at the palace for a couple of hours or venture out with a guide. With that, Melody was introduced—an exquisitely charming hobbit woman who stepped forward warmly. She greeted Dae, remarking that her father had spoken highly of him, and turned to Lady Lizette Summers, expressing delight at meeting after having been indisposed during Lizette’s prior visit and thanking her for her great service to the palace.

Melody explained she had been tasked with accompanying them around town. She suggested a stroll through the gardens where they could converse discreetly about their machinations, playfully cautioning them not to whisper over certain substances. Looking at them with a questioning eye, she asked if she should send a runner for their companions. She teased that her grandfather believed they were in league with the elves at the school plotting to overthrow the city, admitting she was almost disappointed to hear they possessed no such scheme.

Melody assured them they could send word to their companions wherever they might be, insisting she would accompany them. Bearing the keys to the city, she was perfectly safe, commanded obedience, and would require no protection should trouble arise. Excusing herself to change out of palace attire before stepping outside, she returned five minutes later in a gorgeous dress. Radiating a wholesome, stunning charm in her early twenties, she joined them, ready to take to the city streets.

Chapter 53: A Mountain of Cake and Courtiers

Aurora carves her way down an eight-foot tiered cake outside the building as Melody covers her eyes in embarrassment.

Aurora carves her way down an eight-foot tiered cake outside the building as Melody covers her eyes in embarrassment.

She was dressed in ordinary town clothes, though the cut and fabric were clearly of superior quality. Reaching out, she offered a set of ordinary-looking coins to the party.

"Could you each carry one of these coins for me?" she asked. "They look like a coin. I have studied each of them and will be able to find it. But I will not lose track of you while you carry it. If you wish to become anonymous amongst the crowds and your whereabouts are known by me, you are welcome to cast it to the ground, and somebody else will pick it up."

She looked toward Dae, offering a frank appraisal. "Likewise, Dae. You are a very unusual woman for a hero—someone who skirts the edge of inappropriateness regularly." The conversation turned curiously toward other realms and curiosities. "What do you know about the dimensions? And you have such a thing? And where do they come from?"

Settling the matter for the moment, she offered her companion a polite invitation. "Please, Dae, lead on. Perhaps you could take me by the arm."

As they walked, old rumors surfaced. "Oh, yes, I've read that. You've got a thing going on with the Red Crowns. That's delightful. Apparently my great-great-great-uncle—grandfather-uncle, I'm not too sure—had a thing with the Red Crowns as well. They wanted him, but..."

"We won't be having anything more to do with them than the ones that you brought into town and left with?" the question came sharply. "Or have you brought more into town? There's no need to deny it, I know the truth of the matter. Some months ago, you brought some Red Crowns into town with you when you came with those refugees from the north. But you're not smuggling or bringing any more into town? You don't want their kind of mischief here? Just the ones that you brought into town. It was discreetly swept under the rug. What was that what they call it?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I see. Was it the same..."

Their path brought them before an imposing, beautifully kept structure. "Is this the place?" she asked, indicating the fine building.

"Yes."

Right out front, the rest of the company had already made quite a spectacle of themselves. I stood before a towering, eight-foot cake. She had begun devouring her half straight from the top down. The confection rose in grand tiers, with thick ribbons of fudge cascading from level to level like little rivers. By the time Dae and the others arrived, it was quite clear I had already conquered three or four feet of the mountain, fudge pouring like waterfalls off the pastry in a simply magnificent display.

Nearby stood Melody. Though widely known as the daughter of the palace—or perhaps a niece or cousin among the ruling hobbits—she held no clear royal title, though her presence had been felt ever since the palace was previously rescued during a chaotic time when her hands were entirely full. Someone stepped clumsily on a foot, and Melody covered her eyes, hanging her head in sorrow at the sheer brazen rudeness of it all.

"And yet, somehow you frequently manage," came the dry observation.

I immediately crouched down on one leg to drop to hobbit eye-level rather than looking down on her. "You can ask her if you wish, and, hello."

"I am Melody," she said, composing herself. "Oh, I have read about you. You are the one that is... that has interesting... is interesting. Oh, yes, I should tone this down for you. In the palace I have a bit of an aura, yes."

"Oh, mine's not like that," came the reply, "but I am going to do that when I'm in court."

"Right. Well, you're the courtier who's been interested in the enchanted birds. Now, you've made inroads into the blue tower."

Chapter 54: Whispers at the Sultan's Cakes

A quiet table at Sultan's Cakes becomes the stage for warnings of shapeshifters and sabotage.

A quiet table at Sultan's Cakes becomes the stage for warnings of shapeshifters and sabotage.

A guide was tasked with edging a path through Edgwick Park, steering the way through the milling thoroughfare. As we walked, a couple of royal town criers came striding past, screaming at the top of their lungs. A crowd swiftly gathered to catch the palace's latest decree: over the ambient clamor of the streets, the heralds proclaimed that the reward had already been collected for the safe return of the heroes of Adjetbar. The palace was officially pleased to announce they had returned safely and were no longer being sought.

"Oh, I wish, yes," our companion remarked with a wry sigh as the onlookers dispersed. "We have lots of mysteries." She glanced sideways. "Do you know about the Ogre Festival? Or do you not know about it?"

When met with curiosity, she explained the brutal civic spectacle. Four months ago, a notorious band of sea pirates had been captured and sentenced to death. While two of their ogre magi had managed to escape, two remaining ogre magi and four sailor ogres remained firmly in chains. By longstanding custom, because they were ogres, they were granted a perilous trial: allowed to run full tilt from the docks to the palace, they would earn their freedom if they survived the crossing. Under the rules, no citizen was permitted to strike them directly with a hand weapon.

Instead, people attempted to bring them down with volleys of arrows. "They are nasty, nasty brigands," she warned. Four or five years back, another batch of condemned ogres had slaughtered around forty-five citizens before finally making it to the belt. They were certainly not pushovers. Surviving the gauntlet earned no prize save for the respect of the city—though in Adjetbar, that respect carried immense weight.

When taking to the air above them was mentioned, she shook her head vehemently. Trying that risked being struck down; if an ogre bolted someone out of the air, the violent impact of a skull splashing across the cobblestones at high speed would probably drown out the crowd's cries. Indeed, four years ago, people riding an enchanted flying carpet had been incinerated clean out of the sky by a roaring ball of fire. Moreover, anyone who perished to the ogres remained dead, and if the monsters reached the city walls, the grim aftermath remained a permanent scar upon the quarter. She added that two of their compatriots—celebrated as local heroes—had agreed to preside at the palace at sunset today, bestowing garlands, flowers, and kisses upon the winners of the festive three-legged race.

Steering clear of the growing street bustle, she gestured toward an elevator off the thoroughfare beside a grand prospective property. "Do you mind if we just have a quiet word at this elevator here off this street?" She noted the potential building and the renowned Sultan's Cakes—an enterprise valued at a staggering nine hundred and fifty thousand.

Stepping inside, she sat down at a table to speak in earnest. "Now, it occurred to me that when I heard you were here—and we were discussing this earlier this morning—that you might be back in town to fulfill some unfinished business. Would that be a safe assumption?"

Leaning closer, she revealed that her father employed people whose maids had sent discreet inquiries throughout the markets, uncovering that something was deeply amiss. Salvador, their employer, had inexplicably lost out on three lucrative merchant deals that by all rights should have been won. To dig deeper, she had consulted their house watermage, a diviner who cast polished stones and multicolored pebbles into a wide basin resembling an ornate bird bath. Through the swirling waters, the stones unveiled visions and pertinent portents. Though the scrying had not produced a distinct name, the mage determined the sabotage was intertwined with those who could change their skin.

This revelation had thoroughly alarmed her uncle, who had grown wary of several shadowy undercurrents in the city. Distant reports spoke of a very small band—of wear out—active in the docks, though rumors remained muddled and nothing certain was known regarding the boats. Mentioning the imprisoned giants, she noted that one of the ogre magi possessed only one eye, drawing a relieved sigh that identifying the brute would at least be straightforward.

Yet another disturbing matter loomed. When the conversation turned toward inquiries regarding a cat lady, she pivoted to persistent gossip that had circulated over the past year. Admitting she possessed no hard evidence beyond whispers, she warned of elusive nocturnal creatures capable of reading thoughts in the dark and flawlessly assuming a person's exact appearance. When the party recognized the description and supplied the proper term, she nodded with a sharp, assessing look. "Yes, that is the word that they used. Okay... you are quite well informed then."

Chapter 55: Statues and Strolls in the Merchant Quarter

A prosperous merchant estate and workshop along the tree-lined promenade.

A prosperous merchant estate and workshop along the tree-lined promenade.

The discussion turned back to the mysteries of shifting form. As the water mage had observed, the phenomenon seemed tied to those whose skin shifted or turned cold—a distinct transformation altering their very appearance, whatever the expression for it was. Once the shift took place, they were no longer magically altered; the dweomer was only briefly present during the change itself.

Such physical grace was acknowledged as a natural racial aspect, paired with a natural gift for dancing far surpassing other peoples. Yet the recent revelries had clearly taken their toll; the dwarven guard captain had noted that Lizette was an absolute wreck when she was finally dragged out.

Official paperwork soon brought another matter to light: an approved contract for a pair of cast statues. Patriot had been commissioned by the palace to the tune of thirty thousand silver pennies to craft two nudes depicting myself and Lizette. Having received the city's formal blessing, the civic authorities decided to overlook any impropriety and place the bronzes in a prominent new square. After all, they were not sculpted to look like matrons, and in a major merchant quarter already adorned with truly magnificent nude monuments, they would be in good company. An offer was even made to commission another piece if desired, though such masterworks were far from cheap.

Setting out into the newer district of the city, the companions walked for an hour through quarters devoted to daily living. Here, dense four- and five-story human residences crested the hills in sprawling blocks of working folk. By one o'clock in the early afternoon, the thoroughfares began to quiet for the midday rest. Navigating through narrow alleyways that cut behind towering walls and grand manors, they eventually emerged onto a major promenade.

A substantial merchant estate spread over roughly half an acre, its upper levels dedicated to living quarters while the lower floor hummed with the clatter of a working blacksmith. Along the wide, cobbled boulevard—lined with a leafy central median of trees dividing double lanes of two-way traffic—prosperous urban estates displayed their craft. Visitors could inspect the smithy’s metalwork or browse next door at an establishment finishing luxurious cloth finery. These grand, multi-storied dwellings belonging to the wealthy were hives of refined industry, replete with interior courtyards and open light wells basking in the afternoon sun.

Chapter 56: A Hive of Stone and Mind

A bustling merchant estate prepares its pack train under the watchful eyes of guards and covert observers.

A bustling merchant estate prepares its pack train under the watchful eyes of guards and covert observers.

With the stakes mounting, our ally offered a practical warning. While he could serve as their get-out-of-jail-free ticket if disaster struck, the risk of recognition was too great—the master blacksmith or the lords and masters of the house might spot him if he lingered in the open. Deciding it was wiser to maintain a discreet distance, he instructed them to stay out of trouble, promising to wait just down the path at the first inn on the right.

Left to position themselves, the companions considered their vantage point. In this quarter of town, ordinary birds and cats were nowhere to be seen among the rooftops, leaving little natural distraction. Turning our attention to the target block, the primary building dominated the surroundings with a commanding view over every neighboring structure. It was easily the finest architectural work in the area, boasting three massive arched garage entrances along the main street side wide enough to allow two wagons to pass abreast.

Outside, the street was alive with preparations for a modest caravan. A dozen automated camels and roughly twenty mules stood by the gates, burdened with bags and cargo under the casual watch of a dozen guards. While most of the humanish sentries appeared utterly bored, a couple eyed Lizette and I with faint suspicion—one guard visibly puzzled as to why I seemed to wander about with her gaze fixed endlessly on the sky.

The broader neighborhood was primarily residential, arranged around central trees and watercourses where frogs croaked steadily, yet each block harbored its own core of family-run industry. Inside the grand building's archways, the air grew noticeably cooler, granting relief from the heat and exhausting work. Within that shaded lower interior, roughly twenty minds busily labored, the ground floor bustling as a hive of focused commerce across its broad footprint.

A deliberate psychic sweep extended upward through the sprawling compound. By the third floor, the count of active minds thinned to around twenty, while the upper tiers collectively held another forty-five individuals. High above, several sharp, animalistic consciousnesses stood out, marking a kennel of trained guard and hunting dogs on the third floor. Nearby, the faint tension of tense negotiation trickled through the ether—a few figures struggling through an uneasy conversation, fraught with anxiety over its eventual outcome.

Sifting downward toward the second floor, the probe encountered something far stranger: two minds that offered no resistance, yet were unmistakably non-human. Their mental landscapes defied the frantic cadence of the ninety other souls occupying the estate. The first mind was shockingly, unreasonably calm—possessing not a shred of the deadlines, tasks, or emotional anxieties gripping everyone else. Serenely engaged in quiet discussion, it felt akin to an ancient elf who had spent centuries in contemplation, utterly unbothered and in the zone. Beside it, the second mind shared the exact same peculiar signature, matching its elder's profound tranquility, though distinctly more juvenile in thought.

Chapter 57: Currents Beneath the Cobblestones

Aurora observes the sprawling merchant estate from the street beneath grey trees.

Aurora observes the sprawling merchant estate from the street beneath grey trees.

Sitting in the middle of the street beneath the shade of pale grey trees, Keshah opened his senses to the towering estate across the way. Beneath the soles of his boots, he could distinctly feel the tremor of subterranean running water flowing beneath the stone thoroughfare. Cats dozed near the walls, and high above, flying squirrels darted from one floor of the sprawling mansion, gliding wide arcs through the warm air before banking back to alight upon an open terrace on a different level.

Reaching inward, he caught the brush of thought. Two distinct presences occupied a room above: a juvenile mind, restless and frisky, alongside a far more mature, calm, and firmly established intellect. The tranquil mind was buried deep in concentration, working through tactical scenarios in a cold, systematic, and calculated fashion. Joining the train of thought mid-stream, Keshah pieced together what it was formulating. The figure was plotting how to exploit the approaching Festival of the Ogres and the chaos of the Ogre Run.

In the schemer’s mind, it was treated as a settled certainty that a layer of reflective magic would be cast upon the ogres. The spell would fortify the creatures, rendering them far more resilient while ensuring that whoever contested or attacked them would suffer grievous, redirected wounds. By manipulating this magical splashback, the plotter intended to unleash black sands upon an opposing merchant house, systematically pinning the resulting carnage and multiple deaths on a rival faction. A sharp, vivid image surfaced in the planner’s thoughts—the distinctive architecture of the target compound and the clear coat of arms emblazoned across its heavy gates. So absorbed was the mind in these lethal equations that the squirrels flitting past the windows went wholly unnoticed.

Drifting further through the vast compound, Keshah took the measure of the bustling life inside. Near the kitchens on the second floor, a busy collective of twenty people labored over elaborate food preparations. Elsewhere on that same second floor, above the ground and first levels, moved a very different group: guards navigating the northeast corridor. Instructed with rigorous military science techniques, the patrol moved with acute caution, actively checking for and evading lethal traps. It was not a panicked fear, but the grim sobriety of entering a lion’s den—navigating a corridor guarding what appeared to be a heavily trapped treasury. One guard strolled through with calm nonchalance, while the others remained visibly fretful.

These guards and the scheming mastermind inhabited separate paths within the house, never interacting. Throughout the rest of the three-story estate, another forty individuals moved through their routines. People sang, while others studied and debated. It was not merely a private residence, but an entire compound sheltering roughly a hundred people—an extended merchant family with cousins, retainers, and servant kin, all living together beneath one roof. In this city, such merchant dynasties banded together into political alliances known as stacks, five of which held sway over the realm's wealth and influence. Down in the courtyards, stables stirred with an abundance of beasts: camels, mules, donkeys, horses, and dogs.

"Aurora, do you have any crystals of vision?" came a companion's quiet query, pulling my focus momentarily from the estate's inner workings.

I remained grounded upon the street beneath the grey boughs, watching the squirrels and cats as the cold rush of the underground stream pulsed rhythmically beneath my feet. I then pulled out my multi-hop Crystal of Vision.,

Chapter 58: Whispers in the High Chambers

Planners recline around a parchment map as serpentine vapors drift from ornate bottles.

Planners recline around a parchment map as serpentine vapors drift from ornate bottles.

Along the street outside, stone statues nestled among the greenery served as ornate bird baths, their sculpted figures pouring water that trickled down into stone ponds and soaked deep into the earth. The masonry boasted lions, winged beasts, and serpents imported from far-off lands, alongside carvings of hobbits wielding tridents. Notably, there were no human statues to be found along the lane—every sculptured face belonged to a hobbit.

After searching for Keshah's location, the companions oriented themselves across the sprawling manor. The floor above stretched across an astonishing expanse, some one hundred and twenty feet by two hundred and fifty feet. Working together, they managed to gain the correct level, slipping first into what served as a kitchen. Rows of racks lined the room with curious culinary implements and stores. Most striking of all, barely six paces away in the far corner, a stream of vivid blue water ran vertically upward along the masonry, defying gravity as it flowed smoothly into an opening in the ceiling.

Venture further brought them to a high vantage looking diagonally down into an airy sitting room. There, four humans and an elf reclined upon soft cushions around a low table. Beside them rested strange, two-foot-tall twisted bottles. Out of the bottles' openings emerged creature-like necks that swirled into the air, drifting lazily across the room like serpent heads while the occupants paid them no heed. The four women at the table remained unnaturally calm and focused, completely in the zone as they scrutinized a small parchment map depicting a cluster of buildings. The group listened intently, taking their instruction from a slightly older human woman who directed their planning.

Slipping away, the infiltration led into a dim servant's corridor. In the near darkness sat two figures, quietly conversing in a hushed, unsettling cadence. Only the younger of the two betrayed any hint of feeling; the elder remained utterly, impassively calm. Lingering to listen, I caught the rasp of their speech. The guttural, gravelly tones grated like nails dragging down a slate blackboard, sending a shiver through me and raising every hair on the nape of my neck. Though the figures spoke in quiet murmurs, the language was ancient—one of the archaic giant tongues, though precisely which dialect remained elusive.

Amid the quiet deliberations, an agreement was reached. An assurance came that an introduction could be made to an appropriate contact, accompanied by a firm promise that it would be done. Across the chamber, a discarded pile of empty bags lay stacked in the shadows, ready for use as we prepared to catch up on documents and track their target once the spy's movements were uncovered.

Night 4

Chapter 59: Dispatches at the Royal Hobbit's Arms

Aurora drafts an intelligence report on parchment at the Royal Hobbit's Arms while festival crowds fill the street outside.

Aurora drafts an intelligence report on parchment at the Royal Hobbit's Arms while festival crowds fill the street outside.

Assessing what they had accomplished and the formidable resources they now have, the companions were quite happy with that standing—yet a tumultuous series of trials had brought them to this precarious hour. Led by Dae, the astute high elven ranger and versatile party leader, the company relied equally on the tactical discipline and heavy combat power of Keshah, the restorative arts and courtly grace of Lady Lizette Summers, and the sharp wit, espial skills, and transport talents of Aurora Steelwind. Following the completion of their training and the quietening of their quarters, Lizette's tutor had profusely thanked them before taking his leave. Left alone in the room, they had pursued leads across the settlement: learning of the midday festival race from Miriam's daughter, navigating the city, and weathering employer missives that prompted armed showdowns in Seagate Close after Aurora caught the gaze of watchful patrons.

They had endured lockout gas and strange black sound that dropped half a tavern into slumber, violent brawls against local ruffians, and bounty hunters storming the garden bar until Keshah blanketed the entire building in magical darkness. After escaping through guarded city streets and purging the creeping iron taint from Lizette and Aurora at a jeweler's shop, they reached the palace square. Recognized by the palace guard, Master Dae and his companions were warmly received with hospitality and summoned to audience with the chamberlain. In the palace courtyard, a northern lord hosted them with refreshments despite the extravagant bounty once placed upon their heads, inviting them to preside over upcoming festivities. Rumors concerning Lizette's tutor were addressed over a magical feast meant to impress Aurora, followed by an introduction to a charming hobbit courtier lord.

Their travels through enchanted grounds saw them recounting past accomplishments of the Red Crowns before marveling outside a grand building where Aurora tackled an eight-foot-tiered fudge cake as an introduction to court. Along the park's edge, they heard grave cries announcing the harrowing Ogre Festival and their own safe return. Slipping into a cafe, they absorbed warnings of lost merchant contracts, shapeshifters, and mind-reading imposters, and traded observations on the magical physiology of dancing and the palace's artistic ambitions. Taking an afternoon walk to survey the bustling workshops along the Grand Promenade, their contact lingered at an inn as a discreet veil while Aurora and Lizette surveyed an imposing merchant estate crowded with pack animals, guard hounds, and gravity-defying waterways. Beneath the grey trees, Aurora psychically probed the sprawling multi-story complex, uncovering focused conspirators, an unsettling giant tongue spoken by dark powers, a cold conspiracy surrounding the upcoming Ogre War, and two non-human minds steeped in an eerie, profound tranquility.

“In that case, we might as well go back to the Hob,” came the verdict.

Returning to their message drop at the Royal Hobbit's Arms felt like the most prudent course. Aurora intended to write a comprehensive report detailing what they had uncovered, complete with diagrams, and leave it in the drop.

“We haven't... well, the bounty on us is gone,” Dae noted. “So we should be able to just walk in there and do our thing.”

“Well, you've already walked in there once with the bounty.”

“Yeah, yeah, but now we're going to walk in again and deliver this message. And check to see whether or not there's been any responses to our groveling apology.”

They reminded themselves to remain cautious and avoid provoking local powers as they slipped inside the Royal Hobbit's Arms. Setting up at a table, Aurora prepared her ink and parchment, prompting Dae to lean forward.

“Aurora? What are you going to report? Give me a summary. Think about it, and then engage your mouth and speak the words aloud.”

“We mentally scanned the building,” Aurora answered steadily. “We discovered some minds that were... do you want to tell them about the two minds that look giantish?”

“Just a summary,” she was advised.

“Okay, yeah. I'll have it on a piece of paper. Incredulous enough things.”

“Start writing,” came the GM and Dae's urging, and her quill met the paper.

While Aurora drafted the intelligence summary, the others took stock of the city beyond the tavern windows. It was half past three in the afternoon, and the streets were packed with more people than they had ever seen before. Under ordinary circumstances, the walk between the Royal Hobbit's Arms and the palace took a modest twenty minutes. Gauging the impenetrable sea of festival-goers choking the thoroughfares, they grimly agreed they would need to double their travel time to forty minutes.

Chapter 60: Finery for the Palace

The party draws the eyes of the city crowd as they march toward the palace in their courtly finery.

The party draws the eyes of the city crowd as they march toward the palace in their courtly finery.

The hour had slipped past half three, then four-thirty, and perhaps even later. Returning had eaten away a considerable portion of the afternoon, and lingering any longer meant risking being late. They agreed that the moment Aurora finished penning her note, they would set out directly for the palace.

A visit to court demanded proper preparation, prompting the group to lean on courtier decorum rather than arriving in common street clothes. Turning to Melody for guidance on what to wear for the evening, they were advised to dress in garments as richly adorned as possible. Melody lowered her head with a modest flush of embarrassment, self-conscious about her own impoverished appearance.

When asked whether specific colors represented the city, the response was clear: as outsiders, they ought to wear their own house colors rather than feigning local allegiance. Lizette settled on blue. Though Melody warned that courtiers would scrutinize every dye and shade to deduce loyalties to rival houses or stacks, she added that no single house owned a color; others wore blue as well, and comfort should prevail.

Keshah inquired whether wearing armor would be acceptable, pointing out its ornate, distinguished craftsmanship. Melody inspected the suit, observing that it looked like potent, valuable magical armor. Since Keshah was serving as the party's bodyguard, Melody encouraged keeping the armor on, provided anything that passively harmed bystanders was stowed away. Keshah assured her that the hazardous gear—such as an inactive bucket capable of harmful ambient magic—was safely disabled, as weapons and armor were only occasionally drawn. Melody noted that nobles at court would likely carry alien or ceremonial swords of their own. A fine griffin feather cloak was also brought out for the occasion.

Suitably prepared, the party pushed out into the busy city streets toward the palace. In the distance, the voice of a town crier rang out, proclaiming that the heroes of Edgefar had been recovered and that the bounty had already been paid.

As they made their way through the thoroughfares, Aurora and Lizette turned more than a few heads. Beneath Lizette’s armor lay an illusory projection of an elegant, high-ranking blue gown patterned after an Aquiline cut from two centuries prior. Meanwhile, her companion walked in a standard caftan—a garment that notably lacked pockets, prompting questions about how their hand luggage would be carried.

Chapter 61: A Swarm of Sweet Teeth

A supposed ambush dissolves into chaos as the youth swarm a toffeed apple vendor.

A supposed ambush dissolves into chaos as the youth swarm a toffeed apple vendor.

Stowing their gear proved a delicate puzzle of attire and extradimensional etiquette. One of the garments did not come with proper pockets, which would prove thoroughly inconvenient if left unattended. With backpacks and quivers already slung, the portable hole—packed tight with leather goods—needed a bearer.

"Keshah, you're happy to carry the portable hole with all the leather stuff in it, right?" came the request.

"Why aren't you carrying it?"

"It folds up to the size of a handkerchief. You could tuck it up your sleeve. Or in a backpack, though I don't really have pockets—well, I guess I do, but ladies are allowed to carry handkerchiefs, unless your clothing is completely skin-tight. Tuck it under somewhere to match the aesthetics."

There was also the ever-present wariness regarding carrying sensitive dimensional equipment, mindful of the perilous rules governing overlapping pocket dimensions. With the folded cloth securely tucked away without spoiling anyone's silhouette, they continued their trek.

About halfway back to the palace, Keshah’s instincts prickled. Her internal scallywag detector flared: they were being followed. Glancing casually, she noted a knot of youthful pursuers. They appeared to be well-appointed young men—perhaps merchant sons or well-dressed scions—though given the festive atmosphere, crowds of citizens throughout the district were similarly turned out in their finest finery. Watching their subtle movements through the crowd, she noted the telltale signs of deception, distinguishing illusory appearances from reality. The youths signaled subtly to someone stationed farther up the thoroughfare.

Determined to warn her company, Keshah checked for a mind speech link. Finding none active at that moment, she leaned close to whisper. "Those young nobles behind us just signaled ahead. Something might be about to interfere with our passage."

Sure enough, forty to fifty feet ahead, a horde of perhaps twenty youths came surging down the street directly toward them. Strangely, the approaching crowd was completely unarmed.

Keshah stopped in her tracks, preparing a darkness spell just in case violence erupted.

"Melody, have these children taken a peg or something?" someone muttered, trying to recall local customs. "I think I remember hearing about that."

"A peg?" Melody replied in confusion. "What? There's no peg!"

"Then what are they expecting? I think we're about to be robbed."

"Or one of you carried off," Melody suggested dryly, considering the striking presence of drop-dead gorgeous women walking in their party—three, in fact, counting Melody’s own undeniable charm.

"I don't think we need to worry too much about her," came the retort, "but I'll take hold of you so I don't lose my backpack."

Bracing for an impending assault, they watched the pack of youths close the distance. Calling the charge "running amok" was generous. Dressed in assorted finery, the mob bore down on their position—only to barrel straight past them.

Barely six to eight feet in front of the party stood an unfortunate street vendor. He carried a six-foot wooden pole balanced across his shoulders, strung thick with glistening toffeed apples. The ravenous horde swarmed him instantly. In a wild flurry of sticky confections and shouting, half the youths clamored to thrust coins into the vendor's hands while the rest boldly snatched apples right off the dangling strings.

Chapter 62: Strings and Sweetmeats

Urchins swarm the toffee-apple vendor as phantom crosses drip eerie blue sand over the street.

Urchins swarm the toffee-apple vendor as phantom crosses drip eerie blue sand over the street.

Along the thoroughfare, buildings and stoops stretched out for hundreds and hundreds of paces in either direction. A scattering of guards moved through the crowd escorting their charges, keeping strictly to their own responsibilities without favoring anyone—lest taking sides invite unwanted trouble. Looking over the signs advertising toffee, one of the companions demurred, having indulged in far too much cake already, content that they would be fed when the bells rang. For now, magical preparations were held in reserve, waiting to see what the bustling street might yield.

Ahead, commotion erupted around a toffee-apple vendor. Twenty-five, perhaps thirty youngsters swarmed him. A few dutifully attempted to shove coppers into the satchel strapped to the vendor's chest—for silvers were far too hefty a sum for simple candied apples—while others simply snatched at the sticks. The vendor raised his wares high out of reach, but one nimble urchin clambered onto a comrade’s shoulders, caught an edge of the tray, and dragged it down, unleashing absolute bedlam.

Sharp eyes caught the wider game at play. In the distance, two figures made discrete hand signals toward someone behind the party. Up above, three cats patrolled the ledges of the second and third storeys, and an elf crouched watchful upon a rooftop to the right. Suspecting the riotous children were merely a screen, someone glanced backward for the second wave. Sure enough, a commotion spilled from a shop displaying fine containers and ornate teapots. Youths burst from the entranceway, scattering across the street in all directions, one of them hastily tucking an elaborate stolen teapot beneath his shirt.

At that moment, Lizette caught sight of an unsettling vision and began describing it to the others. Hovering in the air above nearly half of the rampaging children were strange floating crosses. Invisible cords trailed down toward the youngsters, along which trickled streams of glowing blue sand that poured onto the cobblestones, leaving spreading puddles and stains.

Seeing the vendor being overrun, Aurora reached into her pockets for loose silver and coppers, aiming to slip past and reverse-pickpocket the man by secretly tucking coins into his satchel to cover the stolen fruit. Another thought to forgo trickery altogether, stepping forward to hand him ten pieces of silver and offer thanks for letting the children have the treats. But the vendor was entirely consumed by rage, blind to the offered coin as he hurled curses at the tide of bodies. Urchins slammed past Aurora, and another plowed straight into Keshah as the two companions waded into the thick of the fray.

Chapter 63: Chaos on the Cobblestones

Keshah assists a fallen bystander amid the chaos as Cleo watches from the rooftops above.

Keshah assists a fallen bystander amid the chaos as Cleo watches from the rooftops above.

It began with a misunderstanding, quickly smoothed over by depositing a bit of coin, but that did little to quiet the furious vendor. He screamed obscenities and shook his fist furiously at the fleeing children as they tore down the thoroughfare. Onlookers watched askance at the unfolding bedlam. One indignant young man shouted after the scurrying pack, declaring that they would not get away with it because he recognized Tom Doolin among them.

Shouts of "Guards, guards!" echoed down the street as shop doors were slammed shut and watchmen took up defensive positions in entryways. Wealthy pedestrians, escorted by men of substance, sheltered their companions in recessed alcoves. Keshah peeled off two youths who had collided into him and helped an elderly dwarven man back to his feet after the crowd knocked him over. The children, utterly delighted with their sticky prizes, scattered in all directions. Taking the sensible cue from the surrounding locals, the party put their backs securely against a wall, Keshah holding his ground in front to shield the others as the commotion took over a minute to pass.

Looking upward, they spotted half a dozen birds nimbly evading alley cats, fluttering and hopping along building façades to match the children's frantic pace. They debated the creatures' nature—noting they were neither the mechanical wind-up singers seen at the inn nor the ominous blue spy birds of majesty, but something else entirely. Across the tiles, an elf perched discreetly on a rooftop caught their attention and offered Keshah a subtle wave. Aurora's heart skipped a beat as she recognized Cleo, the fair-haired rogue who had flirted with her before, and returned the quiet gesture.

As the group pressed onward past the protesting crowds, a strange, metallic clattering arose from the street to the west. It sounded unmistakably like a heavy stampede of hooves rattling over cobbles. While the festival route was known to feature diverse challenges that changed year to year—and was never meant to be lethal—livestock had no place running wild through such an affluent neighborhood. Agreeing that whatever was barreling toward them was not something they wanted to meet head-on, they kept their ears open, ready to duck into the nearest shop should the rumble head straight for them.

Chapter 64: Arrival at the Palace

Lady Lizette and Dae are formally received by courtiers inside the palace waiting chamber.

Lady Lizette and Dae are formally received by courtiers inside the palace waiting chamber.

The noise from the side streets ebbed and flowed as riders and citizens bearing festival tokens bustled past. Picking their way through the commotion, the companions made their way toward the grand plaza fronting the palace. The square was a sea of roughly a thousand spectators beneath a canopy of colorful banners, raised poles, pennants, and flowing tabards draped from the stone ramparts. It took another twenty minutes to cross the crowded expanse. Recognizing the renowned travelers accompanied by Melody, the palace guard dispatched a patrol to part the crowd, ushering them across the final fifty feet. Amidst cheering citizens who sang and threw their hands into the air, the group spotted dozens of sacks filled with aged, soft mandarins—ammunition readied by the crowd to pelt runners or unfavored teams during the festivities. Once safely past the gates, dust and grime were swiftly magically tidied away before changing into proper court attire. Escorted into a well-appointed waiting chamber attended by a dozen courteous dwarves and halflings, the background companions stepped aside as proper court etiquette dictated. All eyes turned to Dae and Lady Lizette Summers as formal introductions commenced. With a nod from the Captain of the Guard entrusting the situation to their care, an attendant greeted them in the refined, cultured cadence of the Five Sisters: 'Greetings, heroes of Ajbar, Lady Lizette Summers of the Childless, and Dae...'

Chapter 65: Ceremonial Petals and Butter

Children arrive bearing wicker baskets of desert petals to be cast over the victors from the gallery.

Children arrive bearing wicker baskets of desert petals to be cast over the victors from the gallery.

The official overseeing the day's ceremonies stepped forward to address them. "I am in charge of the ceremonies today," he explained, looking between them curiously. "You and—is it Dae who they are making statues of, or someone else?"

"This one as well," came the confirmation.

"Very good. I expect you to come out onto the lower gallery and cast petals from these baskets here." Keshah gave a wave, ushering in three hobbitish children who bustled into the hall bearing wicker baskets brimming with fresh blossoms. "If you could cast these upon the victors and make some decree about the blessings of Adjepbar upon them—and announce that they have free meals and free drinks for a year and a day, or until the next race is run. That would be good."

Aurora leaned forward, inspecting the baskets. "I'm just curious to see what sort of petals they are."

"Probably a mixture of all sorts," someone offered, and indeed they were. Keshah observed that many were harvested from desert cacti—bright, colorful, and resilient, lacking the dainty fragility of common garden flowers. They held abundant moisture, keeping their vibrant shapes intact. To test it, one of the thick petals was plucked and crushed between fingertips, releasing cool dampness.

Dae was handed a griffin feather cloak, draped over his shoulders to give him a grander appearance fitting for the coming proceedings. The official noted approvingly, "I understand that the town criers have announced to all of the city that you have been recovered and are no longer being sought as heroes of Adjepbar. So your troubles from the people concerned for your welfare should be greatly diminished now."

"I would like to know how much was paid for us," came an earnest inquiry. "I'd like to repay my portion of that."

Keshah raised an eyebrow at the offer. The organizer waved it off as a small token of gratitude, though the companion pressed that reimbursing it would feel right. "We will discuss that later," the official answered smoothly. "If you are wanting to discuss trade, then we certainly can as well."

Turning back to Dae's presentation, Melody was consulted on whether his attire was suitable or if more emergency grooming was necessary in the brief time remaining. Melody asked if they knew what yak and goat butter was like. When met with quizzical looks, she explained that it possessed a rich, oily quality that would make Dae glisten and look far less dire if rubbed into him, so they set about getting him as ready as possible.

Before they stepped out, the master of ceremonies turned specifically to Aurora. "Now, Aurora, I understand that you are able to fly on the winds. If you fly in the city, I suggest you draw with a cloak of invisibility."

"That is probably a good idea," Aurora agreed, mindful of the enchanter dwelling within the Blue Tower.

Chapter 66: Robes the Size of Tea Towels

A halfling messenger presents the master sculptor's minuscule robes to Aurora.

A halfling messenger presents the master sculptor's minuscule robes to Aurora.

The assembled company exchanged glances across the gathering. Noticing the unease, a young man spoke up, asking if that enchanter had been causing grief and promptly offering to accost the fellow and have him arrested if necessary.

"No, no, no," came the hurried reply. There was no need for guards or arrests; it was merely street gossip that the enchanter had been seeking someone capable of flight to retrieve something. Still, whether one truly wanted to become embroiled in the eccentric caster's fertile imagination remained an open question.

Before the matter could spiral further, a young hobbit woman stepped forward, carrying items bundled in her arms. Addressing Aurora, she announced that she bore gifts from the master sculptor: the official robes to be worn for the turning out, tailored for the measurements when posing took place tomorrow.

"Tomorrow?" Aurora echoed.

"Yes," the halfling confirmed, assuring her that she would be accompanying Lisette. She produced the garments intended for Lisette as well—modest, newly made small robes. Recognizing that Lisette had been terribly reluctant about the prospect of baring all, a compromise had evidently been struck. Yet when the fabric was held up, it proved to be barely the size of a tea towel, drawing immediate disbelief and flat denials.

Nevertheless, the arrangements were laid out. The sculptor maintained a building in Midtown, and a carriage would arrive to collect them at half past eleven in the morning, provided they were still staying at their current quarters. Reassurance was sought that the transport could accommodate their entire four-person company. For practical and operational security, while Aurora and Lisette posed, their companions intended to remain discreetly in the background. The messenger confirmed that a carriage would convey the whole group across town.

Some mused on whether the master sculptor might insist on working under the light of a full moon, knowing his strange, particular temperament. Master sculptors were exacting artists, after all. Someone entertained the notion of asking for a miniature replica of their likeness to display back home, though it was acknowledged that such craftsmen rarely cared to fashion the same subject twice.

Nearby, someone was caught blushing—and blushing rather unevenly at that. After a muddled apology and an awkward defense that cosmetic quirks were perfectly fine just as they were, a snigger rippled across the room. Murmurs stirred among the onlookers, wondering how such an uneven flush could even be possible. Around them, guests continued eating, while several surreptitiously crushed flower petals between their fingers, bringing them to their noses to sniff the intoxicating scent.

Chapter 67: A Fragrant Promenade

From the palace promenade, the companions look down upon the bizarre costumed champions leading the city race.

From the palace promenade, the companions look down upon the bizarre costumed champions leading the city race.

Examining the handful of fragrant petals, the companions realized the scent was unusually alluring—perhaps distilled into perfume, or, as Keshah recognized with a wary nod, laced as some kind of charming aphrodisiac. Deciding it best not to give anyone in attendance any wilder ideas, they turned their attention to the upcoming ceremonial duties. Beyond showering the victors with petals and presenting a formal speech, there was little else required. With the winners expected to arrive in roughly half an hour, final preparations were coordinated with Melody.

The protocol called for grand, flattering declarations: praising how the champions had brought honor to their families, hailing them as the very finest representatives of the city, and decreeing that all should cherish them for a year and a day. When offers were made to assist Lady Lizette with drafting the address, Melody politely remarked that such advisors would be standing silently in the back. Given Dae’s reputation for bizarre proclamations—and Lizette's own unpredictable flourishes—some guidance still seemed prudent. It was also noted that truth-telling runes and enchantments were actively hindering diplomatic grace; since courtly flattery often required bending the truth rather than blunt honesty, the truth enchantment was dispelled before the ceremonies began. Unlike Lizette, Aurora and Dae carried no such magical honesty, keeping the troupe’s diplomatic latitude intact.

Time ticked down, and Lizette confirmed she had her lines prepared. The party stepped out onto the promenade, the expansive balcony gracing the front of the palace. Looking out over the teeming streets below, the onlookers' eyes were fixed down the main thoroughfare where a commotion heralded the approaching racers. Leading the pack were grotesque, horned figures resembling goat folk adorned in mottled hides, vibrant pigments, and towering antlers, bounding forward on three legs. Squinting from the balcony, Aurora recognized the strange beasts not as monsters, but as racers lashed together in an elaborate three-legged costume, surging decisively ahead of the pursuing crowd.

Chapter 68: A Shower of Petals and Mandarins

The victorious runners cross the finish line amid flying fruit and falling flower petals.

The victorious runners cross the finish line amid flying fruit and falling flower petals.

The racers drew close, battling their way through the roaring crowd while being pelted with bruised old mandarins until the stone beneath them turned bright orange. Twenty feet before the line, city guards shoved back the pressing throng. Tossing off their elaborate headdresses and heavy goat skins, the leading pair emerged into full view: two sturdy yet impoverished lads bound tightly together by one leg.

Before they came too close, a quick spell of detection probed the aura of the nearest runner. Once the pair crossed the finish mark, the spectators hung on every word as the ceremonial tribute began. With a word of confirmation that the runners were within range, a shower of flower petals scattered across them. Delivered in the tongue Melody had advised beforehand, the proclamation rang clear: congratulations to the victors, who had done themselves, their kin, and the whole city proud, earning the grand prize of food and drink for a whole year until the next games.

A brief pause hung in the air before the assembly answered with polite applause and hearty cheers. A few onlookers surged forward to snatch fallen petals from the flagstones, only to be firmly shoved back by the guards. Taking the floor, the master of ceremonies brought the formal proceedings to a close, directing the crowd down toward the port where free fish awaited at the market stalls. Hearing the call, the bulk of the crowd began filing away toward the docks.

Even so, other runners continued to trickle across the line. In all, six teams reached the podium, welcomed by polite applause and the remaining handfuls of petals until the supply was entirely exhausted, leaving children and spectators to gather what scraps lingered on the ground. By the time twilight fell, an army of sweepers had already begun clearing the courtyard.

Though a passing thought arose to ask Melody about meeting the victors, the party decided it was best to return directly to their inn. Melody would not be accompanying them; she assured them the safe reward had been well worth the effort and promised to send an escort around eleven-thirty to fetch them. The Captain of the Guard escorted them toward the exit, noting that Keshah would see them safely home. Setting off into the evening, they faced a forty-minute trek through lively streets choked with carousing revellers, occasionally brushing past knots of citizens cheering and applauding their own local heroes.

Chapter 69: Festival Fare on the Road Back

Roasted and puffed marmots seasoned with desert spirits, prepared as festival food.

Roasted and puffed marmots seasoned with desert spirits, prepared as festival food.

Reflecting on the encounter, the empathic impressions lingered clearly: she was a long-lived sentient elf, and the unmistakable sense of arousal still hung in the air. A cold bath upon returning was deemed a wise precaution, given everything that had stirred down below.

Setting off for the inn, the journey promised a forty-minute trek through the streets. Thoughts turned to finding food for Max along the route. Fish was briefly considered, but detouring half an hour toward the port was far too out of the way. Seeking whatever meat might be on offer nearby, they came upon a vendor displaying curious festival food: creatures resembling bluish beavers or formerly living marmots that had been gutted and roasted, then puffed up like taut balloons.

Assuring themselves the meat was certainly marmot and not cat, they inspected the strange delicacies. Roasted crisp and tautened to the size of a swollen cat, the creatures were pumped full of rich juices, meats, and what smelled like a marinade of desert alcohol. Debating whether the alcohol had simply seasoned the meat or remained potent enough to intoxicate, they decided to purchase two—one for Max and another to test themselves—at sixty-five silvers each.

The puffed delicacies were bound with twisted copper bands around their legs to prevent them from bursting, providing convenient handles. Hot to the touch, a swooshing, slushy liquid of rich sauce and desert spirits sloshed within their roasted skins. Carrying the piping-hot provisions, the party continued toward the inn, agreeing to investigate the contents further upon arrival—and hoping they wouldn't find themselves in trouble with Melbourne.

Chapter 70: Suitors at the Inn

Rival suitors jostle for Lady Lizette's attention as Chloe and the innkeeper look on.

Rival suitors jostle for Lady Lizette's attention as Chloe and the innkeeper look on.

Before taking to the open streets, the companions paused to consider their curious cargo. Uncertain of what might await them once they returned home, they agreed that carrying such items openly in public would prove far too difficult. Instead, they carefully stowed them away into the bag of holding—the curious void-space pouch—mindful of the hazards, as an incautious shove into the depths might leave grasping limbs clawing right back at whoever held the brim.

With the oddities secured, they turned their steps back toward the inn.

Upon arriving, they discovered a lively commotion gathered at the entrance. Half a dozen well-dressed young men—dandies and prospective suitors by every measure—loitered alongside mysterious ladies, all eager to impress. Amidst the crowd stood a petite blonde elf woman flanked by two elven men. As the party approached, the three elves offered nods of greeting, and Chloe stepped eagerly forward, wrapping them in an enthusiastic hug.

No sooner had the greeting passed than the posturing began in earnest. One of the young men pushed his way to the front and addressed Lady Lizette directly, breathless with affectation. He proclaimed his utter delight at finally meeting her after weeks of anticipation, extolling his good fortune in securing a premier seat for her grand revealing on the morrow. With grand gestures, he spoke of how flattered he was that she had accepted his house's invitation to tomorrow night's dance, even as muttered complaints rose from the crowd about barbarian elven voices cutting across proper speech.

When curiosity turned toward what refreshments were being offered and Lizette was urged to speak up, the young noble seized the opportunity. Delighted, he begged her to step inside so they might share supper while he explained everything. His pitch was abruptly cut short when a rival suitor shoved his way in, loudly dismissing him as a scallywag. The second youth announced that his own family had purchased one of the coveted orange sets and wished to sponsor a commemorative silver plaque upon the statue, insisting they must discuss the arrangement over dinner.

The two dandies began physically jostling and shouldering each other aside to hold the lady's eye. Stepping in before the scuffle could escalate, Lizette proposed a sensible compromise: everyone would share a meal together in the communal dining room, allowing her companions to learn more details over supper.

Miriam emerged from within, taking in the spectacle with a stern shake of her head toward Peter, silently reminding him of his chaperone duties. While consenting to arrange a table large enough for the party and the flock of young men to dine together, the proprietor made her establishment's boundaries perfectly clear: she would brook no nonsense, and under no circumstances were these fluttering dandies permitted to escort Lady Lizette upstairs to any private rooms. A firm reassurance was promptly given, settling the matter as arrangements for the shared table were made.

Chapter 71: A Gathering of Rival Houses

Miriam and the staff swiftly prepare accommodations for the wealthy merchant and his entourage.

Miriam and the staff swiftly prepare accommodations for the wealthy merchant and his entourage.

"Good. Very good," came the firm assertion. "I have no interest in having a house of disrepute."

Attention turned quickly back to the ongoing investigation. "Do we have any culverts at the stack that we're actually supposed to be investigating? I'm just wondering whether or not to check to see if any of these guys are members of that stack."

Scanning the gathering outside revealed a familiar sight. Toward the rear, a noticeably polite gentleman stood waiting. His attire—blue with white stripes—mirrored the people inspected earlier in the day. While difficult to say for certain if he belonged to that specific stack, he remained patient and well-mannered, waiting quietly for the boorish ignoramuses blocking the path to clear away.

There was a brief, confusing scuffle of movement as arms were taken, with someone attempting to escort them upstairs while others spoke of heading down toward the dining room. In truth, the encounter had begun when the party was accosted out on the street by a noisy gaggle of people. Inside, Miriam and the rest of the staff sprang into action to bring order to the chaos, swiftly erecting tables, adjusting the lanterns, and laying out cushions to accommodate the sudden influx.

Miriam leaned in with a quiet warning about the man in green, noting that he was exceptionally wealthy—easily worth five or six times the value of the entire building itself. His immense stature explained why a young woman was attending him and his entourage, and a discreet glance along the street revealed half a dozen well-appointed bodyguards positioned vigilantly up and down the avenue.

When asked to recall the prominent faction connected to the statue, Aurora Steelwind provided the name: the Kalbars. They were undeniably one of the top merchant houses, and it was exceedingly likely they were reaping the profits from their employer's recent setbacks.

"Do we know who has been benefiting from the losses?" someone asked. "In other words, who's been scared? The merchant house will know, because somebody always comes out on top of these deals, swooping in to make the profit."

Their employer, however, had deliberately refrained from coloring their perspective. He had harbored his own suspicions, but without concrete proof, he wanted the party to reach an unvarnished conclusion on their own. After all, when one stack collapses and a rival stack ascends, it might seem obvious who is responsible—unless the rising faction is merely an unwitting dupe in a larger setup. Much depended on the sheer scale of coin changing hands, leaving plenty of threads yet to unravel.

While they had uncovered the motives behind the recent strife, uncovering the precise culprit remained the crucial next step. Strong suspicion still rested upon the two shapeshifting doppelgangers—the ones with the strange, unreadable minds—or "Jamesons," a detail that had not even made it into the written report yet.

As the gathering settled, the political landscape in the room took shape. The crowd around the table, numbering about ten people, broke into three distinct factions: the Delldates, the Kalbars, and a third group that appeared noticeably more conservative and respectable. This last party belonged to House Salomon—their employer's own house—though the representative showed no outward sign of recognizing them. Beside the assembled patrons, attendant elves stood watch, keeping a careful eye over the tense, high-stakes assembly.

Chapter 72: A Matter of Etiquette and Stone

Keshah's eager admirers vie to outdo each other with extravagant proposals for his upcoming sculpture.

Keshah's eager admirers vie to outdo each other with extravagant proposals for his upcoming sculpture.

Nearby, a quiet murmur of Elvish drifted as Aurora engaged in hushed conversation with a young woman. For Keshah, however, the dialogue took on a rather different tone. His companions spoke in rapid bursts—a peculiar hybrid of the Five Sisters tongue laced with barbed, snarky undertones that bordered on a dialect he could scarcely parse, prompting him to keep his own replies measured.

Beneath their veneer of formal pleasantries, the two figures hovering around Keshah were locked in petty rivalry. One vigorously championed upgrading his commissioned statue, while the other insisted on affixing a lavish plaque. Both competed openly for his exclusive attention for the coming evening, leaving the party to wonder whether everyone would need formal arrangements tomorrow night.

"At the moment, despite having done things in this town, I am still learning its etiquette," Keshah said carefully, seeking to calm the simmering contest. "I would not wish to snub or offend any of the staff, and I fear that paying too much attention to any one group will offend the others. I would greatly appreciate it if you would help me avoid causing unnecessary complications."

His diplomatic appeal did little to extinguish their ambitions. Determined to outdo one another, their offers escalated—by the end of the evening, one offered to adorn the statue in delicate silver filigree, while the other pledged a plaque of gold over marble.

"I am not too sure about the statue," Keshah admitted with quiet reservation, "and would perhaps rather not too big a deal was made of it."

His admirers simply dismissed the concern, eager instead for tomorrow's public viewing. When Keshah asked what this viewing entailed, they blithely explained the procedure: he was to attend the master sculptor—his name brushed aside as entirely unimportant—who would strip him bare and spend roughly three hours carving his form into stone. They had already purchased tickets to observe the entire proceeding, relishing the chance to admire him without a shred of cloth.

"I don't think it will be quite what people expect," Keshah remarked.

Perplexed looks crossed their faces. When they pressed him on what he meant, he noted that his own culture's customs regarding nudity differed markedly from local expectations. Unfazed, they cheerfully assured him they were entirely comfortable with viewing him in the nude, and looked forward to the spectacle.

Chapter 73: Eyes in the Steam

In the sheltered steam of the bathhouse, Chloe warns her companions of the three shadows tracking their movements across the city.

In the sheltered steam of the bathhouse, Chloe warns her companions of the three shadows tracking their movements across the city.

The impending commission sat uneasily on Lady Lizette. "The problem is, I am less comfortable with being naked around other people," she confessed. Reassurances followed that it would be fine—even if her cheeks flushed bright red for a moment, and they saw what Melissa Vale was set to depict.

Miriam interrupted the uncomfortable talk, clattering plates as she cleared the remnants of the meal. In an uncertain but firm voice, she offered a brisk ultimatum: this was their last chance for dessert before they would be shown the door.

Before the lingering guests could presume too much, Chloe stepped forward to intervene. "If anyone is pestering Lizette at the sculpting tomorrow, I will take it as a great affront," she warned, fixing the young nobles with a piercing glare. "I am sure it would also upset the palace greatly if you young men, in your foolish ways, were to get in the way of a town-commissioned statue."

Though they looked only faintly abashed, the visitors took the hint. Murmuring that they looked forward to seeing everyone on the morrow, they beat a retreat. Miriam briskly swept away the last dishes before they had even finished their business, parting with a cool farewell.

Once the room had emptied, Lizette turned to Aurora without bothering to use their mind link. "Aurora, tomorrow apparently there is to be a viewing, and people intend to watch us while we are naked for three hours. I think somebody sold these tickets and lied to them."

Chloe gave a sharp shake of her head. "There will be no public viewing of this. Somebody has scammed those young nobles." She glanced toward Keshah. "Keshah, do you have a few good men you could call upon? Let us hope it does not come to that, though—it would be terribly messy if a large pack of young lords and their bodyguards besieged the sculptor's residence."

With Lizette’s mind somewhat eased, Chloe shifted her focus, noting she would not mind sharing some time together. She invited Lizette and Dae down to the bathhouse to wash off the day. Soon settled into the warm steam and roped enclosure of the bath, the mood turned serious once more.

"For your information," Chloe murmured quietly, "there have been three quite proficient spy-assassin types following you all day. You should be aware that you are being carefully pursued, and there is clearly danger about."

When asked about their origins, Chloe admitted they were still working to trace who employed them. "They have kept their distance and haven't tried anything yet. They value their anonymity over confrontation. We don't believe they come from the palace, nor are we certain which family they serve—though it could easily be one of the young house lords."

Keshah pointed out that Adjepbar carried a storied reputation for the kidnapping of women. Aurora agreed that high stakes surrounded their presence; as recognized heroes of Adjepbar, they would fetch a handsome ransom from the palace—or perhaps from whatever old enemies they had thwarted the previous year.

Chapter 74: Suspicions and Sculptures

The companions weigh the threat of well-equipped stalkers while discussing the controversy surrounding the palace sculptor.

The companions weigh the threat of well-equipped stalkers while discussing the controversy surrounding the palace sculptor.

The conversation turned back to past encounters and unresolved dangers. "What was it the year before?" someone mused, recalling a powerful creature from the Plane of Air and the matter of his daughter. It seemed plausible that whoever was tracking them now might intend to sell someone off to that very planar creature. Yet, as another pointed out, they had parted with that entity on reasonably good terms—though whether their pursuers were aware of that fact remained an open question. Their stalkers could simply be foolish, young, arrogant, and excessively rich men.

Foolish or not, they were undeniably capable. They possessed formidable training, honed skills, and gear suffused with magical ores, marking them as far more than common scallywags. Preparation was clearly needed. One companion explained that the money had deliberately been carried in a separate pouch so that, in the worst-case scenario, the coin might serve as ransom rather than merely being looted alongside their captive.

Aurora Steelwind and the others were far less keen on entertaining ransoms. Rather than paying anyone off, Aurora favored organizing a strike force and simply paying the legal fine for slaying whoever stood in their path. When another suggested that the pursuers might not intend harm if they had not yet struck, the tactical reality was laid bare: going after their assessors or escalating violently was dangerous, as these opponents moved through the city with sharp precision. Whenever anyone attempted to draw near enough to question them, the stalkers vanished like smoke.

They were not mere street urchins picking pockets, nor ordinary thugs chasing a bounty. Carrying hundreds of thousands of silver pieces alongside high-grade magical items pointed to far deeper ambitions. While carrying wealth and dangerous weapons was not inherently a crime, the warning was brought squarely to Keshah’s attention, who acknowledged it with quiet appreciation.

The talk shifted toward more immediate city happenings. By tomorrow, the swollen crowds were expected to thin back to normal following a commotion at the sculptor’s yard. Someone had been running a ruse, selling fraudulent tickets to view the work that would never be honored, all without the sculptor's knowledge.

Keshah noted that an artisan would normally keep his workshop private to work undisturbed. The sculptor, however, was new to town without a personal residence of his own; the palace had named him a guest of the city and put him up directly in the sculptor's yard. His work had been commissioned by the court so the authorities could maintain tight control over the design. If the piece turned out too lewd, it would never be displayed, but if it proved of sufficient quality to stand as a heroic monument for the city, the palace would unveil it—though there was always the half-humorous prospect of simply draping clothes over the stone if modesty required.

Chapter 75: Fittings and Forethought

Dae inspects six completed outfits delivered by the tailoring guild.

Dae inspects six completed outfits delivered by the tailoring guild.

The discussion turned to the peculiar practice of clothing statues. While some wondered how such a thing worked and whether it involved literal garments, it was confirmed that real attire was indeed used, whether for an indoor piece or outdoor monuments. Melody had mentioned the custom previously, noting the scenic courtyard—a stroll reminiscent of a lovers' lane in the cool of the evening. When the subject drifted to whether anyone had visited the beach yet, it became clear they had not; that quarter of the city remained unexplored, sitting roughly twenty minutes away. Dressing the figure properly beforehand, however, remained key so the sculptor could replicate the exact drapery in stone.

Attention soon shifted to coordinating the morning itinerary. Lessons would claim about an hour, followed by the necessary conditioning. Going beyond the city walls to handle the exertion risked complications, but using gut busters within the lodgings offered a tidy solution, avoiding the hassle of passing back and forth through the gates. A quick healing boost afterward would spare everyone the need to drink healing draughts. Allowing half an hour for a brisk breakfast would leave ample time to finalize clothing choices and return by eleven-thirty for their escort to the scholars.

Their planning was pleasantly interrupted when the daughter of the house descended the stairs with news for Dae: a delegation of tailors had arrived bearing six distinct outfits tailored from his morning measurements. The garments required no last-minute adjustments, draping flawlessly. Drawing on the collective might of an entire guild, the seamstresses had executed the work with remarkable swiftness rather than the frantic rush of a slapdash commission. For a total sum of seven thousand two hundred and twelve pence, Dae found himself furnished with an entire wardrobe—a remarkably fair bargain for craft of such caliber.

Chapter 76: A Questionable Confection

Inspecting the street-bought dessert marmots to uncover their magical effects.

Inspecting the street-bought dessert marmots to uncover their magical effects.

Noting the shock at the price, the group agreed to front the coin and recoup it later from the party funds out of his final share. It was the very same rate once paid for Rancate long ago, seemingly the going standard. Though it seemed time to sleep, a cat promptly leaped onto shoulders, turning attention back to the marmot brought from the street. Mary was asked for plates to serve what had been brought back for Magnificence, and she returned with a large bowl and six side plates to see if they would suffice. They were plenty; two had been bought so one could be tested first to ensure it was truly safe. When Mary realized dessert food had been purchased off the street, she looked horrified. Despite the reaction, the delicacy was supposedly very tasty and known to impart temporary abilities. At sixty-five silver, it was a minor expense whose effects would vanish within twenty-four hours. Before preparing one for Megs, a single inquiry was made to discern its effect upon eating: the formerly living marmot caused jello skin. Miriam was asked what that meant, explaining that one's skin fills out with fat and turns into blubbery, gelatinous lumps that stand out prominently. An offer to use it for statue making was swiftly declined, prompting the group to examine the second marmot to see if it carried the same fate.

Chapter 77: A Meal for Mags

Mags enjoys her portion of goat meat while recounting sightings of the strange, multi-eyed visitors.

Mags enjoys her portion of goat meat while recounting sightings of the strange, multi-eyed visitors.

Aurora inquired about the curious provisions they carried, asking what advantage the gelato skin offered. The unusual delicacy served as a versatile disguise, capable of reshaping the bearer's appearance several times throughout the day. When questioned about its direct effects upon consumption, the answer was levitation accompanied by vivid shifts in hue.

Contemplating whether it could be shared, someone suggested testing it on Mags, pointing out that floating and cycling colors might be preferable to turning into a plain yellow cat—a fate sure to leave any feline miffed. Uncertain whether a cat would appreciate yellow skin or unpredictable transmutations, they turned to Miriam to ask which of the two rations was safer for the house cat.

Miriam looked at them incredulously. "Do you wish Mags to be gold? Neither. Do not feed either of these two to Mags."

Heeding the warning, the rations were quickly packed away. Instead, they asked Miriam if there was any ordinary meat left in the kitchen to offer the cat. Gracious as ever, Miriam agreed and brought out a small helping of goat before hurrying back downstairs to attend to the dwarves gathered below.

Reaching out through mindspeech as Mags vocalized a string of inquisitive meows over the goat meat, they sought to understand what the cat had observed. Mags wasted no time sharing her grievances: the strangest things had been happening around the house. When pressed for details, the cat claimed that men with six eyes had been visiting.

Skeptical, they noted they had never seen such creatures, prompting Mags to snap back, asking if they were blind and questioning their supposed gifts. Describing the visitors further, Mags explained they were humanoid figures bearing an eye in the center of their forehead, two standard eyes on their face, and an eye embedded in the palm of each hand.

Keshah and the others paused to consider what mythical creature might possess such an anatomy. As they tallied the features—one on the brow, two on the face, and two on the hands—they realized the count came to five, unless the intruders possessed three hands. Mags conceded the count: five eyes, peering from face and flesh alike.

Chapter 78: Vigils and Black Sand

A jar of animated black iron sand rests beside warding stones as lightning flashes over the bay.

A jar of animated black iron sand rests beside warding stones as lightning flashes over the bay.

Talk turned warily to five eyes and the unsettling thought that their pursuers might be doppelgangers concealed beneath ordinary disguises. To secure their rest, word was sent ahead to the setup room to tell Sophie that things would be opening up. Quarters were taken across half of the third floor—an elevation reputedly high enough that spiders and snakes could not reach it, with a main room suitable for keeping watch.

Protections were laid out meticulously. Magical ward projection stones were set to sound an alert if an intruder crossed the threshold, and a defensive barrier was arranged before sleeping. In case trouble stirred during the night, defensive enchantments and dampeners were woven early so the casters could sleep off the strain before morning, along with spells for breathing.

Before the night settled, Mags appeared carrying another crunched-up bird—the same sort tied to blue mage trickery. In return, a trade of goat meat was offered. The exchange prompted a puzzled exchange over whether eating goat meant alignment with goat people, quickly laughed off as a mistranslation. Preference leaned toward lamb, mutton, or bacon, though pork was deemed ill-suited for their needs, leaving lingering questions about what effect eating goat might actually bring.

A discreet bath offered brief respite from prying eyes, accompanied by a sobering reminder: at least three people had been shadowing them across the city all day. The lodging's massive arched windows—nine feet wide and twelve feet high—offered an easy breach for large intruders. Yet being perched so high also had its graces. The melodious singing from the temple district drifted up through the evening air as nine o'clock arrived and darkness blanketed the streets. In the distance across the bay, lightning flickered within an approaching storm that skirted mostly around the city walls.

Within the room, attention turned to the glass jar containing the captured black sand. It was identified as animated iron sand, categorized as lesser undead. Wondering whether it was safe to stow in a backpack that functioned as an extradimensional bag of holding, the consensus cautioned against putting an anti-magical, necrotic substance into an enchanted space. Speculation lingered over how such a thing existed at all—perhaps born from a living creature that had consumed iron sands, hardened, and perished, leaving animated grains behind in its wake.

Chapter 79: A Midnight Compulsion

Lizette analyzes Aurora's glowing aura after the troubadour is caught sleepwalking toward the window at three in the morning.

Lizette analyzes Aurora's glowing aura after the troubadour is caught sleepwalking toward the window at three in the morning.

The conversation turned to the peculiar nature of the undead, specifically how elemental sculpting and petrification could reduce animated remains into fine sand. Theories circulated about mind-magi manipulating the essence of matter, perhaps transmuting bone into iron sand that remained animatable through the lingering resonance of its former life. For nearly an hour, philosophical and magical musings held the floor, weighing whether such a remnant could ever truly be laid to rest.

Attention briefly shifted toward the coastline, where observers noted figures riding under the cover of clouds and darkness. Six humanoid figures—neither trolls nor giants, standing between five and six feet tall and bearing the unmistakable look of adventurers—landed at the port docks without apparent interception.

Yet the immediate dilemma remained the peculiar jar of sand in their possession. It was burdensome to haul around, raising the question of whether it ought to be destroyed or kept. Keshah and the others scrutinized the vessel, wondering if the substance within might attempt to envelop anyone it struck. For now, the jar looked entirely stable, showing no signs of scratching or forcing its way through the glass.

As the hour grew late, thoughts turned toward rest. While Cleo had duties to attend to before dinner, she warned the companions that high-class thieves might attempt to rob the palace over the coming two weeks—a warning Aurora noted they should pass along to Melody. Max settled in for the night, and with quiet settling over the quarters, the group finally went to sleep.

Peace was short-lived. At three in the morning, stirring in the room woke the party. Aurora had risen from her bed and was sleepwalking, drifting silently and deliberately toward the window. Quickly intervened and gently steered to keep her stationary, she showed no conscious awareness, moving as if answering an unseen call of the desert.

Suspecting compulsion or outside control, they roused Lady Lizette Summers to examine her magical state. Lizette prepared to read her condition, questioning whether an enchantment had taken hold before their wards were set. Kept firmly in place, Aurora's aura was laid bare for analysis—revealing her elven lineage laced with faint fey resonance—as Lizette began cataloging every spell and lingering aura clinging to the sleeping troubadour.

Chapter 80: Call of the Desert

Soft padded restraints keep Aurora safely bound until dawn breaks across the city.

Soft padded restraints keep Aurora safely bound until dawn breaks across the city.

A closer assessment revealed the strange root of Aurora’s behavior: she was under the lingering influence of the 'call of the desert,' an effect brought on recently by the petals. In her sleep, she could scent the distant sands and would blindly wander toward them, her senses thoroughly stirred. When asked how long this compulsion would persist, the answer was straightforward—it would last until she actually visited the desert.

Deciding they would have to journey out there in the morning, they woke Aurora to explain the predicament. Blinking awake in the middle of the room under their intent stares, she learned that the floral petals had imparted an enchantment that would only abate once her feet touched the arid wastes. In the meantime, the night was far from over. If left unattended, she might slip out the window and fly off in her sleep, as she clearly had been about to do.

To keep her safe until dawn, they secured her to the bed using soft, padded restraints so she could not use her hands or feet to escape. Amid teasing remarks that she might have preferred Chloe tying her up, a silent, pointed 'no comment' look was exchanged. While restraining patients might ostensibly be part of a healer's practical training, Lisette’s particular knack for gentle bondage drew its own quiet amusement.

Aurora returned to bed securely tethered, and the night passed without further wandering. Dawn broke across the city to the sound of morning songs. After concluding their language lesson over an early breakfast, the companions gathered their gear around eight o'clock and made haste through the streets. A twenty-minute trek brought them to the North Gates. Stepping just outside the city walls, flight spells were cast across the company. Taking bearings beside Dae, Aurora caught the enticing, fragrant pull on the breeze, leading their flight toward the northeast.

Chapter 81: A Distant Disturbance and False Tickets

Palace guards react outside the inn upon hearing that counterfeit tickets have been sold to the nobility.

Palace guards react outside the inn upon hearing that counterfeit tickets have been sold to the nobility.

From the air above the desert, the terrain stretched out in sunlit ripples. Below, the hues of the desert sands shifted toward the horizon, and discussion turned toward whether the rare blue dust or the desert cacti were the true origin of what they sought—or if the cacti themselves drew power from the blue dust grounds. Looking west toward the Cathar Depression, their eyes caught something far more alarming: deep in the northwest desert, perhaps seven hundred miles away, the air shimmered with an immense disturbance.

Yet duty and timing pulled them back toward Adjepbar. There was still a compelling magical urge to reckon with—an unnatural pull rooted in exposure to the desert core through a magical petal. While such petals could grant potent resistance against outside magic, they also exerted an insidious attraction toward the wastes. Though briefly indulging in a flight in that direction, they knew they could not chase the mystery into the deep sands yet. The palace and the sculptor were expecting them, and missing the appointment would leave far too many people disappointed. Noting the distinct color of the sands below, they wheeled around and walked their way back into the city.

As they moved through the streets, one of the party, cloaked in black and viewing the surroundings through the power of an active truth rune, noticed something amiss. Twice, a figure lingered several hundred feet back, tailing them. While ordinary onlookers were oblivious, the rune pierced the stranger’s disguise, revealing concealed weapons hidden beneath their garments.

By nine o'clock, the party arrived back outside their inn to find a sizeable delegation languishing in the street: around twenty dwarves accompanied by a pair of halflings from the palace, all clad in light leather armor.

Aurora stepped forward to broach a troubling rumor. "Have you heard about nobles that apparently have been sold tickets to the sculpting?"

"No, we don't do this," the palace guards replied, their posture stiffening intently. Recognizing that an unauthorized scam was unfolding and that an ugly altercation might erupt when duped nobles arrived for a private event, an officer immediately dispatched a runner to report the fraud to the palace at double pace. The guards affirmed that the sculptor had certainly not sold viewing passes and that any public unveiling of the finished statue would come much later.

As they prepared to head to the sculptor's workshop via the statue pathway to see the situation firsthand, one of the dwarves squinted at them, noticing a lingering enchantment. "Hey, your friend is under some sort of magical control."

They explained the brief flight out toward the desert, mentioning the petal and the strange compulsion pulling them west. The dwarf looked surprised, marveling that they had felt the pull of the deep wastes and still managed to turn back. With an escort and a looming confrontation at the workshop, they set off toward the sculptors.

Chapter 82: A Walk Down Lover's Lane

The companions walk Lover's Lane, where dozens of masterfully sculpted statues radiate powerful enchantments.

The companions walk Lover's Lane, where dozens of masterfully sculpted statues radiate powerful enchantments.

Talk turned to rumors of distant lands and strange disturbances beyond the borders. It was said that venturing out toward the desert carried the grim possibility of never returning—a desolate expanse marked by wonders, including a peculiar place where the sea poured straight into the sands. Strange as such visions sounded, immediate matters weighed closer to home.

Keshah inquired about the lingering affliction of the petal and whether there was any other remedy for the caller, or if it behaved strictly like a curse. While young nobles swore by various remedies that came easily off the tongue, the draught had never truly been meant for mortals. Lizette had cautioned that the effect would not fade until the caller was answered; only fulfilling that peculiar pull would dispel the charm.

"So you have a mission," came the teasing verdict. The cure, blunt and simple, was to pick out an agreeable suitor, take them to bed, and break the charm by indulgence—a far swifter release than ordinary curses allowed. The recipient of the advice demurred, pleading duty and keeping private whatever faces had crossed their mind.

By nine-thirty in the morning, the group agreed to let the hour pass before setting out. Waiting until ten-thirty, they finally took a stroll toward the promenade known as Lover's Lane. Forty masterfully sculpted statues lined the walkway, roughly ninety percent of them rendered in the nude and depicting all manner of figures. Aurora lingered to circle one of them, studying its contours with thorough curiosity.

The promenade offered more than mere artistry. An overt, undeniable magic clung to the stones, intensifying with proximity. Drawing close brought an involuntary surge of emotion tailored to each passerby: one figure might evoke profound hope, another stirred overwhelming tragedy and loss, while others kindled creeping avarice. Moving down the lane, the party felt the weight of those carved passions pressing thick in the air.

Chapter 83: Virtues in Stone

Statues depicting the historic virtues of Adjepbar flank the central thoroughfare.

Statues depicting the historic virtues of Adjepbar flank the central thoroughfare.

The morning party counted about twenty in all—eighteen dwarves and two hobbits—though the young hobbit lass, Melody, was not with them this morning.

A central path guided their way between rows of monumental figures. These monuments embodied the virtues of the city, sculpted from past heroes of Adjepbar to inspire the citizenry toward greatness. Each statue carried a tale, many bearing detailed plaques mounted upon their pedestals. Pausing to examine too many of them risked losing oneself in a blur of gibbering myths, especially given how challenging it proved to read each plaque to its end up close.

Yet the emotional pull of the avenue was unmistakable. Along the way, young couples wept openly before certain effigies, while others looked upward with joyful smiles. Even Aurora and Lizette found themselves touched and uplifted as they moved between the differing figures.

"If they make a statue of us, are they going to have this kind of effect too?" came the question.

"Yes, of course," came the reply. Such impressions inevitably mirrored the subject's distinct nature. For Lizette, it would likely capture giving, helpfulness, or profound empathy, whereas for Aurora, suggestions drifted toward purity, innocence, or endurance—though much of that ultimately rested in the sculptor's hands.

"Bad news, people," someone observed, glancing along the rows. "Looks like most of them are nudes."

"That’s three of them. Three out of fifty," came the quick clarification among the dozens lining the avenue.

When asked about those three particular figures, the details were distinct: one was a long-eared figure whose cascading hair swirled all the way down to her ankles, while the remaining two stood posed with their arms crossed over themselves in discrete placements. As Keshah and the others reasoned, such calculated modesty was simply part of the sculptor's intended effect, cloaking them in virtue even without robes.

Chapter 84: Through the Emotion Statues to the Sculptors

Dwarven escorts form a wedge to guide the party through the crowded street outside the sculptors.

Dwarven escorts form a wedge to guide the party through the crowded street outside the sculptors.

None of the choices were particularly polite. Looking over what had been handed to them, the party examined their options. "What about this thing they gave us, this rope?"

"What, you mean a tea cloth?"

"Yeah. It is. I'm sure we can improvise something with that. Just fold it in half, and we're gonna need some string."

They considered it, checking over fasteners and buttons for a few seconds to verify that all the other ones were working properly before venturing outward. "We're just gonna go check on the square," came the word. "We'll be back in a second."

Even a brief look prompted a reminder of their obligations. "We cannot abandon our missions. We've been hired."

"You're not particularly serious about that,

"I want the city and they like me."

"You are hero."

A practical concern arose about whether anyone had stepped in anything unpleasant. "I don't know, I didn't run into him. So I don't think there's anything on the bottom of my shoes I could check. I'll ask him." It made sense why someone would want to be certain.

Stepping out, they surveyed the plaza where the statues stood. Having examined them and finding no place to linger, they prepared to move on toward the school. The passage required careful pathfinding, and Keshah had to weave backwards and forwards through the intricate street network. The escorting dwarves preferred to keep to the side street, watching from a distance rather than treading the flat thoroughfare alongside the carvings.

"So I would be affected by many of the statues," someone realized. "Is there anything I need to know? Will they last long? Do they have any specific effects?"

"You'll probably end up a bit of an emotional rollercoaster wreck by the end of it."

A nearby section lay overgrown, deserted, and undisturbed by passersby. In all likelihood, those unattended figures were the ones projecting melancholy or anger, leading travelers to steer clear. Even the groundskeepers were unable to work near them. "You have to train goats to keep the grass down, I assume," ran the remark. One of them ventured briefly closer with a mechanical device to take a reading, only to catch an abrupt flare of anger. "Maybe I'll back up after that. Let's get on with it. We were only here to see what the clothing level was, and we've seen that."

The craftsmanship was remarkable. The monuments portrayed hobbits, dwarves, and humans, with only a couple of elves visible. Orcs and minotaurs were entirely absent—hardly surprising in a city governed by hobbits and employing dwarves for woodworking.

By around half past eleven, the group arrived outside the sculptors' quarters a couple of blocks away. A massive crowd packed the street, with a vocal discussion unfolding near the entrance. Rather than push through unaided, they asked the dwarves to close ranks into a flying wedge. Though the soldiers joked about trampling everyone, they had the clear authority to gently nudge people aside and guide the party through.

Chapter 85: Stone and Sight

Six massive marble blocks await carving in the sunlit promenade courtyard as the sculptors prepare their molds.

Six massive marble blocks await carving in the sunlit promenade courtyard as the sculptors prepare their molds.

Guards shoved their way through the press of the streets, barking harsh commands for everyone to clear the path. A few sharp prods and the threat of force were enough to send onlookers scattering, abruptly dampening a commotion unfolding near the entryway.

Escorted past the quieted dispute, the party stepped inside a grand promenade. Sun poured down from the open sky into a cobbled interior courtyard, enclosed by walls of intricately carved marble. Resting at the center stood six colossal blocks of marble, each roughly nine feet high and partially hewn down to human proportions above broad bases. Each plinth bore an 18-to-24-inch space intended for an inscription plaque, finished with a sturdy two-foot square stone peg jutting from the bottom to anchor the monuments firmly against earth tremors.

A scan of the open expanse revealed no surveillance birds lurking overhead, confirming that the spy construct from the prior evening remained inactive. Within the courtyard lingered half a dozen craftsmen, alongside the master sculptor and an elderly man being guided across the cobblestones, apparently sightless.

Lady Lizette inquired how long the man had suffered from blindness. The master sculptor translated the query into a Western Kingdom dialect, a tongue familiar to the party.

"All of my life," the elder replied. "Why do you ask?"

Lizette offered to see if her healing arts could restore his vision and reached out with her empathic senses. The man possessed a remarkably vigorous constitution and flawless physique, yet her diagnostic probe uncovered an insurmountable obstacle: he had no eyes at all.

Turning back to the work at hand, the conversation shifted to the modeling process. Looking over the subject, the sculptor observed that the adventurer appeared to be operating under some manner of charm or control enchantment. When informed it was the "call of the desert," the master admitted he was unfamiliar with the spell, but was content so long as the subject remained aware of it and in full control.

Directing the model toward a modest plinth, the sculptor outlined the initial steps: being undressed and washed down before soft stone casting molds were pressed closely to capture form and proportion—paying particular attention to the arms—before the final chiseling could begin over the course of several hours.

Chapter 86: Stone, Skin, and Modesty

The blind master sculptor explains his craft as the companions prepare for the arduous casting process.

The blind master sculptor explains his craft as the companions prepare for the arduous casting process.

To coax stone into life and capture a surface that faithfully matched the texture of living flesh, the sculptors needed precise molds cast directly against the body. It was an art governed as much by spontaneous inspiration as by the emotions felt at that exact moment. Preparing for the casting, black skin-tight armor was unfastened and stripped away.

For modesty’s sake, two of the companions withdrew to the side of the hall, settling down while young servant girls tended to them with hospitality. The attendants brought cool mint- and lime-flavored drinks alongside platters of bacon-wrapped stuffed dates and cashews. Recognizing that the entire appointment would easily stretch across six hours, one of them arranged for a slightly private nook—still within sight, but tucked away—to spend three hours performing purification.

Meanwhile, inquiries turned toward the artisan overseeing the work: one of the city's blind master sculptors. When asked about remedies for his lost sight—noting the two paths of organ repair versus complete regeneration—the craftsman held up his hands and gently deferred. He explained that his sight had once been restored for a brief period in his youth, during which he had carved a famous Medusa that brought him great renown. While content to remain as he was for now, he suggested they discuss the matter further after the work was done.

The tactile demands of the process raised hesitation regarding the extent of contact required, as cultural customs made such physical exposure uncomfortable. When asked if sedation or intoxication would be preferred, the subject asked only that the hands-on work be kept as brief as possible, accepting that modesty, if not empathetic warmth, was an acceptable concession to their standing. Aurora assented, and with Pisha tending to the preparations, another companion opted to spend the intervening three hours in purification as well.

The artisans outlined the impending procedure: the subject would first be bathed clean of street dust, anointed in oil, and layered with thin metal sheets. Stone would then be applied and softened around the forms to imprint the exact texture of skin, allowing the masters to animate and carve the rock with remarkable speed into a true likeness.

Chapter 87: Aspects of Stone

The completed sculptures reveal a striking divide between Aurora's vibrant joy and Lizette's stiff resentment.

The completed sculptures reveal a striking divide between Aurora's vibrant joy and Lizette's stiff resentment.

Rather than slowly chiseling the raw rock, the artisans animated the stone directly, shaping the material with fluid speed and leaving a polished, seamless finish. As the work began on the figures of Aurora and Lizette, the models settled into their long vigil. Through the simulated motion of posing, a distraction caught the eye: odd silvery puffs rising from below, reflecting against the low clouds roughly half a mile in the distance.

Before the long hours slipped past, Lizette made a quiet plea for decorum, requesting a sculpture far more modest than the city's usual daring monuments. The artisans obliged with slight compromises, draping stone hair across her shoulders and advising her to pose her limbs strategically—one hand settled upon her hip and the other resting thoughtfully beneath her chin. To their aesthetic sensibilities, the posture carried sensual intrigue meant to inspire, though her companions whispered amused advice to drop the dramatic hand from her jaw.

Six hours turned beneath the sculptors' craft until two towering statues stood completed. When Keshah stepped forward to inspect the emotional resonance captured in the stone, the contrast was unmistakable. One figure radiated effortless joyfulness, while the other was cloaked in an aura of sheer resentment.

Lizette protested in disbelief, but the sculptors remained unswayed. She had stood like a wooden post through the entire sitting, clearly unaccustomed to posing and projecting a stiff, begrudging reluctance. They declared the flawed effigy unacceptable. Fortunately, four blank blocks remained, and Aurora’s radiant statue was already perfectly suited to inspire the city. Her own attempt, however, would have to be repeated the following day.

Taking Keshah aside, the sculptors gave candid counsel, urging him to drag the stiff noblewoman out dancing or drinking to help her embrace life. Knowing Lizette's true temperament, the party reasoned that merriment would not come from tavern carousing, but from purpose: Lizette was happiest when healing. Rather than tending to reckless young brawlers whose noble drama might breed complications, they resolved to find impoverished citizens in desperate need of aid. An afternoon of charitable healing would lift Lizette's spirits enough to carry genuine warmth into tomorrow's stone.

Chapter 88: Brawn at the Doors and Missives by Dusk

A solitary dwarven guard reports how an arm-wrestling challenge sent unwanted nobles packing.

A solitary dwarven guard reports how an arm-wrestling challenge sent unwanted nobles packing.

Aurora pondered the effort required for such artistic endeavors, remarking on how long one would have to hold a pose just to make it look convincingly like healing someone. Keshah agreed it was an interesting thought, though practical concerns soon took precedence over aesthetics. When the question arose of what would become of the offensive statue and its accompanying banner, the answer was decisive: it would be destroyed. A wave of relief followed, even as someone dryly suggested it might just as well be mounted on the northern gates to terrify approaching barbarians and warn intruders away from the city. Ultimately, pulverizing the thing remained the favored plan.

With the hour nearing six o'clock, the companions resolved to return to their inn for dinner before night fell completely. Before dining, however, they agreed to make a detour to the hobbit-run messaging station to check their correspondence. Exiting the workshop—a sculptatorium, for lack of a better term—they found a lone dwarven guard still posted outside, the rest having already marched back to the palace.

Careful not to have disturbed the party earlier, the dwarf offered a cheerful report on the unruly nobles who had clustered outside. The guardsmen had settled the dispute through martial hospitality, challenging the wealthy interlopers to arm-wrestling matches with entry as the prize. Not a single noble had won; several had instead departed in search of healers for their bruised limbs and bruised egos. While the haughty visitors had not divulged the name of the rogue who sold them bogus admission tickets, they had stormed off in pursuit of the swindler once the dwarves made it abundantly clear what fools they had been.

Adjusting attire—slipping back beneath sturdy armor and ensuring illusory garments offered far more modest coverage than before—the party proceeded toward the messaging post. Aurora slipped inside and retrieved a waiting letter. The sender expressed relief at finally receiving word, delighted that the company was alive, well, and actively engaged in the work, while anticipating a swift conclusion to the affair. The dispatch also touched on concerns regarding potential changelings, prompting the party to draft a reply seeking a face-to-face rendezvous with clear details on when and where to exchange further information.

Reaching their own inn at last, the companions settled in among the evening crowd for a hearty meal. Over supper, they took stock of their unresolved duties. With another sculpting matter lingering and tying up their progress, their other missions remained stalled. Still, a path forward began to take shape, beginning with the prospect of paying a visit to the Cat Lady in the morning.

Chapter 89: Plans Laid in the Evening

A secret circle of runes is scribed beneath the floor rug as wards are laid for the night.

A secret circle of runes is scribed beneath the floor rug as wards are laid for the night.

Back at the inn over dinner, the companions began to untangle their priorities for the days ahead. At the forefront of immediate concerns was Aurora’s lingering affliction—the call of the desert.

"So I'm supposed to make mad passionate love to somebody?" Aurora asked, raising an eyebrow at the suggested cure.

That had indeed been the gist of the remedy proposed to scratch the itch, and the consensus was that she truly needed to touch base and see what could be done. Finding Cleo remained the obstacle, though she was believed to be staying at the elven quarters. They agreed that visiting the elves in the morning was sensible. Aurora could remain there in safe company for the afternoon to see if she could rid herself of the desert’s pull, while the others set out toward the sculptor's workshop.

Separating meant that Lady Lizette, Dae, and Keshah would be walking the streets on their own, a prospect that demanded caution. The group had clocked watchers trailing them from a couple of hundred feet away—figures who appeared remarkably capable, magically well-appointed, and well-versed in tradecraft far beyond standard surveillance. Catching such skilled spies would prove difficult. Before bidding farewell to Molly and the dwarven guard for the night, they asked whether a couple of lads could be spared from the garrison to escort them to the statue place tomorrow. The dwarf assured them that the commander would readily send guards to deter the unwanted attention.

The timeline for the following morning fell into place: an early visit to speak with the Cat Lady, rendezvousing with their dwarven escort at eleven-thirty, dropping Aurora off at the elven quarter where Cleo stayed, and continuing on to the statue workshop.

Anticipating the tension of the coming day, Aurora asked if some strong alcohol could be procured to take the edge off. While local aniseed spirits were offered, their acquired taste held little appeal; she favored red wine or rosé. Soon enough, the staff brought up desserts along with three bottles of red wine.

With evening settling in, precautions were made inside the suite. The question arose whether a temporary portal could be placed in the rooms, taking into account the gate tide depression. It would take a mere quarter of an hour to lift one of the large floor rugs, scribe the magical runes directly onto the floorboards, and conceal the circle beneath the carpet once finished.

Between sips of wine, the party reviewed what their inquiries had uncovered: scanning minds within the premises, staying alert for potential changelings, and deciphering two figures who had conversed in an ancient giant tongue while trying to arrange a direct, physical meeting. Someone inquired whether Miriam would be bringing blue biscuits for breakfast along with Walter's morning deliveries, but it was confirmed that no blue biscuits would be arriving.

Before retiring to sleep, Lady Lizette cast Dampen Pain spells upon the companions to soothe their fatigue, leaving herself unshielded. Finally, the warding stones were laid out around the chambers. Primed to let the party rest undisturbed, the stones stood ready to sound an alarm should any intruder cross the threshold in the dark.

Chapter 90: Mosaics and Morning Tea

The eccentric artisan greets the party beside his prophetic mosaic on the Cardone Wall.

The eccentric artisan greets the party beside his prophetic mosaic on the Cardone Wall.

In the dead of night, around two o'clock, the wards were triggered. Aurora was up once more, having deftly managed to slip out of her confines.

"We will wake her up, put her back, and triple-tie her," came the practical consensus. The softly-softly approach clearly wasn't cutting it against someone with her particular skill set, though nobody wished to resort to extreme measures. Still, if her wanderings persisted, someone suggested the prospect of casting *Control Entity* focused right on her forehead. For now, clear instructions were given for her not to leave the bed, and they resolved to see how she fared.

When morning arrived, Aurora was safely accounted for. The companions spent part of their day engrossed in language studies, practicing Five Sisters alongside common and trade tongues. While the courtly dialect of Five Sisters was seldom heard spoken casually in the rough-and-tumble streets, it permeated every hall of state and law.

After breakfast, around eight-thirty, they set out across town to visit the Cat Lady. Confident they were not being followed, they reached the Cardone Wall, which loomed twenty feet into the air. Climbing up, they hauled themselves onto the upper landing.

Half a dozen cats lounged lazily around the stones, where a vast, intricate mosaic was laid out across the floor. To their astonishment, the tiled work depicted Aurora, Lisette, and their companions locked in combat and defeating a grey-faced, nearly featureless humanoid figure.

Before they could dwell on the eerie portrait, an elderly man emerged. Strung with several bags and dusted in a kaleidoscope of colored powders, he held a staff fitted with a huge magnifying glass. He blinked at them, looking alarmed yet pleasantly surprised.

"Oh, greetings, greetings! Good morning," he said, adjusting his spectacles. "Did you come for tea?"

"Well, I wouldn't say no to a cup," came the reply. They also noted they had come seeking any news from Magda.

"Yes, come this way! Please come in, come in," he chirped.

Glancing cautiously downward, one of them asked, "Is it okay to walk on the mosaic?"

"Oh, yes, it's all set—has been for several days," the artisan assured them as they complimented the craftsmanship. He led them up toward the top section. "I still have this bit to finish, yes... and then I must start again. There are new entrants, you see. New figures to be introduced to this! I will carefully zap those over... six mysterious figures who I have to add."

Chapter 91: Twisted Biscuits and the Tower of Cats

The fourth-floor sanctuary of the cat lady, where dozens of felines rest in the tower light.

The fourth-floor sanctuary of the cat lady, where dozens of felines rest in the tower light.

The artisan explained that he planned to introduce the remaining figures across the mosaic over the next five days. Watching the intricate work, someone remarked that they would have to drop by and see how the composition turned out once completed.

"Well, very good, very good," came the reply.

"What are we wearing in the mosaic?" one of the companions inquired. "Adventuring gear?"

"Yeah, adventuring gear. Armor."

"Not the caftan?"

"No, no, only my drow robes, actually," Keshah clarified regarding what might actually be worn today.

"You can always put a light cloak or something like that over it."

"Yeah, I should do that."

Out on the terraced deck, the morning was already hot. It was not yet scorching, but the ambient heat pressed down heavily all the same. Retreating indoors brought welcome shelter, where the host graciously served a pot of refreshing tea alongside hard biscuits. The pastries were long and pulled into spiraling braids—it seemed nearly everything here was twisted rather than rolled flat—and seasoned through with fragrant cinnamon.

"Oh, that's rather nice, actually," Aurora Steelwind noted, savoring the pastry.

"Yes," their host agreed, pouring the restorative brew before nodding toward the stairs. "Well, in that case, you should head upstairs. I'm sure you know the way by now."

"Yes, thank you. Will do so." They thanked him kindly for the tea and the cinnamon twists.

"You're most welcome," he replied warmly. "And we look forward to your new sculpt."

"Yes, yes. I'm sure I'll be rather enlightened, maybe."

Someone asked if he had determined who the six mysterious figures were intended to be.

"Not yet," he admitted. "I have to sweep my lecture board of inspirations. There is a cat I have to add over this section, too."

"Is Dae in the mosaic here?"

"There's four—all four of us there. Yep."

"Well, have a very nice day," the craftsman said, turning back toward the terraced deck with his magnifying glass and pouches of colored powders. Outside on the surface, the nascent design clearly showed a great cat leaping down toward the river. When asked if the beast was white, he merely noted that it was not finished yet.

Leaving the artisan to his colored dust and lenses, the companions began their ascent, winding up the spiraling stairs of the tower. They climbed all the way to the fourth floor, where the landing opened into a quiet room. Clustered across shelves, rugs, and furniture were a good twenty cats, loungeing lazily around an old woman settled in a rocking chair.

"Yeah, I might as well get my speak with animals spell running," came the murmured plan, "so I can listen in to the cats as well."

Chapter 92: Whispers of the Feline Council

The Cat Lady confers with the party, her feline familiars watchful and quiet.

The Cat Lady confers with the party, her feline familiars watchful and quiet.

A flurry of silent contention rippled among the cats gathering in the chamber. Their thoughts were split by a sharp difference of opinion: several of the felines counseled total silence, insisting nothing should be told until the readings were fully finished, while others argued that the adventurers needed to be warned immediately.

At last, their keeper turned a sober gaze upon the group. "Good morning," she said calmly. "This is an unexpected visit."

"Yes," came the reply. "We thought we should—well, this was Meg's idea, actually, but it's a good one. Just wondering if you had any news, anything?"

"Oh, much news," she answered, a subtle knowing in her voice. "I have many knowledges from many minds make it to my ears. Yes. I understand that you have been affected by some sort of charm magic."

"Yeah, Call of the Desert," the afflicted adventurer admitted. "I'm going to see if I can get rid of it today."

"Very well," she acknowledged. "Other than that, my counsel tells me that I should remain silent in your presence until things have settled and resolved themselves some more. The speculation would not be wise."

"So, I think you're investigating that event that you wanted us to potentially investigate?"

"Yes, I have," she replied. "Since then I have followed up some leads of my own and resolved things to a greater extent. I have more information, if that would help. But... well, I do require the assistance of more robust people than myself. There are some smugglers in the desert to the northwest of here, inland, and they have been trading in blue sands. My compatriot—my apprentice, if you will, or friend—ran afoul of them."

She paused, her gaze distant as she recounted her inquiries. "Yes, I found through speaking to things that we came to an understanding that the scorpion men in the depression to the north would interfere. That I myself would leave them alone, and they would reveal and list the confrontation that occurred between the smugglers and my accomplices."

"Northwest, huh?" the adventurer noted, exchanging glances with the rest of the group. "That's the same direction that this Call of the Desert was pushing me. We did a bit of a flight out in that direction, apparently, out in the..."

Chapter 93: Secrets of the Crevasse and Sculptor's Stone

The dwarven escort arrives outside the bustling fencing academy under the bright midday sun.

The dwarven escort arrives outside the bustling fencing academy under the bright midday sun.

A journey deep into the heart of the desert would lead to the maw of the earth, the jagged expanse where the arid dunes meet the ocean. The smugglers were based well short of that distant shore, camped less than twenty miles beyond the city walls. Beyond their hideout lay the crook of the earth—a deep subterranean crevasse carved by a flowing river or stream.

Within that chasm dwelled the scorpion men, sentinel beings born of animated magic rather than nature. Sentient and bound to an ancient vigil, they guarded an underground temple dedicated to a long-lost hero that opened paths to other worlds. It was from these guardians that word had come of a violent clash involving the lost apprentice. When asked what should be done regarding the smugglers, the request was grim and direct: bring back the smugglers' heads so they could be questioned in death to reveal where the slain apprentice lay, ensuring the youth received a proper burial. A sharp warning followed: the smugglers were humanoid brutes with forked tongues capable of spitting deadly venom, bearing snakes and fighting sticks.

When discussion turned to payment, the party asked what reward might be offered without overstepping. In exchange for the deed, an offer was made to share intelligence gleaned from an extensive network of cat agents—eyes and ears scattered throughout the city that could aid their broader, secretive missions. Acknowledging that the companions were not merely heroes of Edge but operatives with covert tasks of their own, both sides agreed to revisit the desert expedition on the morrow.

With midday fast approaching, the party returned to the inn for their eleven-thirty pickup. A pair of dwarves greeted them with customary morning pleasantries, assigned to escort them safely through the streets to the sculptor's studio. Before departing, someone paused to pour a glass of wine, taking the advice to bring a bottle along for the journey.

The carriage first detoured toward the fencing academy to drop off Aurora. Arriving at the school amidst the clatter of an ongoing fencing competition, they arranged to return for her around four o'clock. The escort then proceeded under the blazing midday sun, pulling up at the sculptor’s workshop right at noon. Stepping inside to undergo the familiar stone-shaping process once more, banter arose urging proper modesty, before the craftsmen cautioned that only four stones remained, asking if they truly wished to proceed.

Chapter 94: A Matter of Disposition

Keshah and the artisan survey the flawed stone after hours of strained effort.

Keshah and the artisan survey the flawed stone after hours of strained effort.

The stone continued to reflect the subject's unresolved inner tension. The lingering resentment and clear unwillingness to be there were plainly visible in the emerging work. Questioning whether such feelings would genuinely disrupt the process, the suggestion was made that a bit of wine might actually help loosen the tension, relax the mind, and render the overall mood more acceptable. Though met with skeptical surprise, a cup of wine was poured in hopes of easing the strain.

Yet the artisan remained doubtful. With four usable stones still remaining, the sitting dragged on. Two and a half hours into the agonizing session, the attempt had to be called off. The artisan stated plainly that they would have to stop and return tomorrow. Rather than rushing back the next day, a delay of a couple of days was proposed, which the artisan agreed might be a far better plan. The fundamental problem remained clear: the subject's attitude had to be addressed.

Protesting gently without wishing to cause trouble, it was pointed out that such display was deeply unnatural according to their own culture, leaving them unsure of how to cope with the demand. The reply was uncompromising: one simply had to come to terms with it. Uncertainty lingered over whether the endeavor should simply be canceled outright. Two stones had already been spoiled, leaving only three behind, and neither party wished to waste any more precious material.

When asked for constructive suggestions, the artisan advised finding something truly rewarding to do in the intervening days. A check of the current piece confirmed that it, too, betrayed obvious marks of resentment. Conceding the point, Keshah agreed to step away, return another day, and pursue an activity that was morally and emotionally rewarding to restore balance. Apologies were offered for prolonging the effort, though Aurora observed that such undertakings sometimes dragged on for months, given how uncomfortable subjects inevitably felt in such a vulnerable position.

Recalling three other statues nearby that appeared noticeably more modest than the rest, a question was raised about whether a similar subdued style could be attempted. The notion was dismissed immediately; those pieces had been absolute failures. When asked if the flaw stemmed from projecting the wrong emotions, the truth was even simpler: they projected no emotion at all. With a final apology, the party accepted the delay and prepared to step away.

Chapter 95: Sticks of Willow

The activator and willow sticks, paired to stave off sorrow and bolster spirits.

The activator and willow sticks, paired to stave off sorrow and bolster spirits.

Aurora agreed that she would prepare herself for next time, taking the care needed to ensure she was in the right frame of mind. It was acknowledged that postponement remained an option if that readiness had not yet arrived.

To aid in the endeavor, an offer was made of a protective charm: an item designed to shield its bearer from sorrow and render them cheerful even in the face of adversity. The exact degree of the charm varied depending on its pairing, but the prospect sounded exactly like what was required. The woman in question was described as almost utterly joyless, and with the afternoon still ahead, questions turned to what the talisman looked like.

The item was explained as a pair of sticks, roughly eighteen inches long and weighing about a pound. One served as the indispensable activator, while the second provided the specific aspect. While the complete set contained roughly a dozen sticks offering various split effects if carried in combinations, taking a single paired stick yielded the maximum focused effect. Among them was willow, the specific piece crafted to instill cheerfulness despite hardship.

Finding the arrangement sound, the two sticks were handed over. A passing remark wondered whether it might alleviate mental pain, though the notion was dismissed with a dark quip that such suffering was rather a matter for their victims. With the sticks exchanged, thoughts turned to retiring for the night.

A young doctor interjected with a pointed observation, declaring that courage had to be uncovered somewhere and suggesting that a lack of bravery was the true obstacle. When countered with the inquiry whether they had heard of an effect that banished fear, the doctor retorted that fear and bravery were different matters entirely, suspecting that resentment over having to undertake the task was the real root of hesitation. It was precisely for that reason, came the reply, that hope had been placed in the sticks.