Interlude The Competition

Interlude The Competition

[The author is on an actual vacation for once, until August 20th! Ill be out of contact until then.]

In an age of ghosts and reviving legends, in a time of uncertainty after the Goblin King and Antinium had struck Izril low, it seemed as though the world was once again poised to shift.

He felt it. Like a wearisome paranoia in the blood. A throbbing prelude to a migraine in the back of his mind whenever he dwelt on the subject. He had said that same thing as a boy. He distinctly recalled it.

Velan the Kind, the Goblin King. Not that he had been more thantwenty four? Which would make him, dead gods, thirty-five years old. Where had his youth gone?

He was a boy of fourteen, then, when the Antinium Wars had first rocked Izril. And Calidus distinctly recalled questioning his tutors about that when the Antinium had begun surfacing and pushing the Blighted Kingdoms borders. Everyone acted so surprised when they left Rhir and tried to colonize a new continent. But why would a hitherto unknown and highly powerful species not invade another country?

In the same vein, Velan the Kind? Predictable. Goblin Lords became Goblin Kings. In what scenario was a Goblin company led by a Goblin Lord often challenged by unhappy parties not going to level and become a Goblin King?

The entiresituation came, historically, out of a more tempered age of complacency.

Not the King of Destruction, mind you. Nor Ailendamus, or the Meeting of Tribes, or the Walled Cities and their interminable shenanigans, or Demonsdamn it, it was perspective.

Not a hundred years or even two hundred. All the recent shakeups came out of what the Gnolls aptly termed the Waning World. Where they perceived how older institutions grew lax and unwary. Then the Forgotten Wing company appeared and destabilized the Jungle Tails company, upsetting a Great Company predating the Creler Wars.

Now, it didnt matter that Jungle Tails was back and clawing for power. History had some kind of lesson about complacency here. The cyclical nature of how the world tended to surge in levels and power after a world-shaking calamity like the Creler Wars, before entering into periods of decline, revitalization, and damned turmoil.

Calidus was about to chase down the unhappy realization in his mind that he was living through one of those shifts in history when he managed to stop his brain dead in its tracks. Namely, with the application of two shots of Djinni Essence, the good stuff, bacedelwhich was a spirit akin to rum, whiskey, tequila, or brandy, all of which he enjoyed.

Djinni Essence was just the closest bottle, and he slightly regretted taking down both shots so fast, because it cost the earth, even for him. However, then he was in a good mood.

So Calidus sat up in his bed and stretched. A happier man, because his brain no longer rememberedwhat it remembered. He looked around the rumpled sheets and felt distinctly unclean. Dirty, in fact. Positively disgusting.

Fantastic. It must have been a night to remember. And I forgot it? We have to rectify this situation

He had a languid feeling that told him he had not only been lucky, but fortunate multiple times. The lack of memory didnt really bother him. Hed indulge in some good memories as soon as he found a way to restore them. Spells, tonicsa good time should never be forgotten.

Calidus realized that his company for the night had long since departed, though. That was the only pang; they didnt stay. Not that he blamed them. Their transactions were often straightforward, even if no gold changed hands. Gold changing hands for an expert, hed found, often guaranteed more fun, but amateurs were interesting.

Help, thoughCalidus stumbled out of his rooms and knew the latest [Servant] had quit. There was just aa sheen you got of too many hands on a dirty wall. The opposite of luster; the unbuffable effect of too much sweat and germine substances between cleanings.

The carpet had things in it. Since they werent moving or large, he ignored them in search of food. Calidus found it by walking into the kitchens, naked, and having the [Sous-chef] swear at him and push a plate of a handsome breakfast into his hands.

Ingon, how was my night?

Finer than mine, Your Lordship. And finer still if you put something on. And breathe elsewhereI can smell your breath.

Calidus rather liked Ingon. He was not as friendly or gifted as some [Chefs]; in fact, he was average enough to make food taste better and provide mostly what you asked for, so long as it wasnt exorbitant. He tended to burn seafood, having accidentally given food poisoning to former clients.

But he was very loyal. Loyal in a way only a man with a loving daughter could be. A daughter who motivated him to be wealthy enough to be the doting fatherbut not three daughters or sons that might make a man look for the quick payout.

And a daughter who lived in safety under Calidus authoritywell, his noble familysfar away from Calidus himself. Ingon was a hard fellow to get and the only servant that Calidus liked.

Wheres the [Head Servant] or whomever it is I hired? CAneDorim?

Calidus couldnt remember, which was a sign the shots were going down well. Ingon replied carefully.

If you mean Master Dorim, he was in fine company last night. So fine he hasnt woken up.

Oh. Well, if hes not up in an hour, Ill fire him. Unless Ive fired my last head of staff this month?

Not yet.

Then theres time for a fine morning!

Calidus departed with that, eating the plate of breakfast without the need to use the utensils. A man could eat a fried egg with his bare fingers. In fact, he had six. Today must be egg-day.

His entire life, he worked hard to be this poor. There was room for improvement, but it was hard to get there to start, so he was happy with this.

For instance, Ingon was a good [Cook]. You had to have a good cook. Calidus had found, with experimentation, that you didnt need to have a good head-of-staff. If you fired one every month for embezzlement, laziness, or sheer incompetence, you could keep your household more or less running. They didnt have to be actual [Chamberlains] either; far from it. Your average [Manager] could do the job for one month poorly.

And poorly was good enough. They just had to manage the servants, hiring new ones who turned over almost as fast as their boss. But the system worked. The new manager, as long as they werent completely corruptand Calidus did make sure they werenthired mostly trustworthy people. Who did their jobs and tried hard to restore the mansion and holdings to a semi-decent state.

The parties, messes, and excessive workload would break their spirits within months at most. Calidus had a few servants whod been working here years, but the new ones tended to quit within a three month span.

Especially when they realized they would not become permanent fixtures of his workforce, there were no benefitsand there wasnt anything to steal.

To be precise, there were things to steal, and they were all a pain or useless. The carpets had long since lost a lot of their value, and unless you had a supreme bag of holding, good luck in rolling them up and hauling them out of here. The only bedsheets that were silk were Calidus, and he got them [Cleansed], so if you were walking out of here with them, the guards would grab you.

Oh, and his guards were smart enough to do their job. They were paid well but rather mindful of the consequences of failure. Which was generally just losing a cushy job where you could relax and steal food and drink from the parties. But if you stole something, really stole something from Calidus, said object generally returned to him within a week, a month at the most.

And the person who stole it was only seen once. Generally very pale, with a dagger in their backs or some kind of drink or food on their laps.

Reputation. Deliberation. SystemCalidus found a pair of pants and stood there, chewing as he wore them around his neck like a scarf. He had to own, he got why Ingon wasnt too happy at seeing him.

Youve gained a bit of weight, there, old fellow.

Where had his youthful, sublimeokay, he hadnt really ever been svelte. He was amiably wide, not too heavy, just like ever. And unlike his fair, famous cousin, he didnt have anyone to take his weight for him.

Which was fine. Calidus rather liked himself. Not his mind, damn the blasted thing, but his body was fine. Slovenly, but lovely. Naked was not a good look for most, though.

Buthe swung his lower half around and felt an unexpected weight there. No wonder hed been stumbling around.

Dead gods, thats a fine potion. But Ill never get these pants on.

He dropped half an egg tart, and there was actually enough surface area for him to pick it off his nether regions despite standing upright. Then a new servant came in, screamed, and ran.

And that was why the help rotated. Mind you, the servants were mostly female whereas Calidus had found his judgment worked best with men as his head of staff and so on. A good fellow could probably clean up just as well as a lady, but that was just how it was. [Maids] cleanednot that he hired more than generic [Cleaners] or [Scullery Maids] at most.

Anyways, Calidus had a good laugh over breakfast, and he put the plate down, two-thirds finished. If he were hungry and no one took it, hed come back to it, but that was egg-day. He had come up with a rotating schedule of dishes, you see, such that even if he gave no orders, Ingon would go through a ninety-day cycle calculated to appease Calidus interests. Another ninety days would pass before this particular variation on egg-day arrived, and by that time, Calidus would enjoy it again.

The menu of foods was one of those rare things Calidus worked on zealously, inebriated or not. The worst thing would be to lose the enjoyment of food by eating too much of it. Hed heard that the older you got, the less everything appealed.

Terrible thought. Calidus expected he had another thirty years in him and then hoped hed die quietly in his sleepor in vigorous activities of a fun kind, not war or anything else so horrible. Hed be quietly buried, the entire mansion disinfected, and if he got that far, Calidus thought hed die with a smile on his face.

Because that meant it would be sixty or seventy years of fun. Fifty some, reallyhe hadnt gotten the memo until his teens. Then hed realized the grand secret his mind kept arguing with him about:

The purpose was to enjoy yourself. He had the means. He had the system. Let the Gnolls and Drakes kill each other. If Tyrion Veltras called for war, Calidus would send what he needed. If there were another King of Destruction, Calidus would pledge support and unhappily give some money to the cause.

But he, personally, would do nothing until a Goblin Lord was within a hundred miles of his position. In fact, Calidus worst nightmare was a huge intercontinental war. Another Goblin King, for instance.

He didnt have nightmares. He hadnt been there. But he didnt want to be there, ever. Not then, and not in the future. Calidus wanted to have a supply of that damned ice cream. He wanted to see the Players of Celumand he wanted this to continue. In no small way thanks to his favorite cousin, his benefactor, and the woman to whom he owed his entire lifestyle and class[Hedonist].

Magnolia Reinhart. The Deadly Flower Blooming in the North and all that. Leader of his house and, to Calidus Reinhart, the insane woman who was welcome to the responsibility and hassle of leadership. She had his support. Not that hed ever said as much.

Not that she liked him.

Calidus had the vague impression Magnolia Reinhart hated his guts. The clues were hard, like her never telling him what she was up to. Never visiting him. The curtailment of all his actionable authority in some senses, and the inter-family orderdo what you want in private, but dont cause trouble.

Or else Magnolias [Maids] and [Butlers]the really well-trained staff Calidus could have used some ofwould come knocking. But that was only if you were a prat. Unfortunately, a lot of his cousins were, and so they got in trouble for crimes.

Calidus didnt get into trouble. He had his parties, his affairs, and yes, even his private problems resolved in such a way that they never got back to Magnolia, so she left him alone. In return? He got a generous stipend from the Reinhart family wealth each month, added to his own holdings, and she dealt with everything.

Wonderful. Beautiful. Calidus would have kissed her quite chastely if he had the chanceexcept that he knew what his cousins like Wernel and Damia got up to in private.

Disgusting, really. Even Calidus wouldnt go that farmostly because it would have been like bedding a Creler, knowing his familys personalities. And he preferred his encounters to be pleasant, not with any long-term consequences.

After breakfast, he sat with his somewhat rumpled head-of-staff, Master Dorim, who was a former [Innkeeper]. He looked embarrassed at being caught with company and aware he was not making a good impression on his employer.

It was the first party in which hed really let himself go and realized he could lean on his position and no one cared if he was unfaithful towhatever. Calidus didnt recall if the man was married, had been married, but he knew the type.

Master Dorim had pulled the doors of libations wide open, and there would be no going back. Until Calidus fired him.

Probably six more parties. Then hell be more interested in currying favor from the guests. Calidus kept his face sternif Dorim didnt think he was upset, it would be three more parties at most.

Again, I am deeply apologetic, Lord Reinhart, and I have the staff cleaning everything up.

Lord Calidus, I said. Did myparamours of last night leave? Adequately satisfied, I trust?

Dorim hesitated. He was not on top of things, but his expression cleared after a second.

The ladies? Yes, I believe they left with yourassociates?

He referred to the friends, hangers-on, and crowd that normally found their way in each time Calidus did this. The [Lord] nodded.

Good, good. How many were there?

Ffive?

The [Lord] of House Reinhart smiled and sat back in his chair.

Excellent.

Dorim tried to hide his expression, but Calidus happily ignored him. After all, [He Felt No Shame]. One of the perks of having his class.

[Hedonist]. Some said it was a bad class, and it was trueCalidus had virtually no Skills he would have termed good for the betterment of anyone, even himself. But they did make him feel good, and they protected him from the worst of his antics.

Including headaches, which Dorim was clearly suffering from. Calidus glanced over some [Messages] and realized the shots were wearing off. At least, the initial discombobulation.

Because that damned brain of his was working again. He tried to hurry along this part of the day, which was checking on things.

Everything. Politics, the news, his holdingshe had to do it. He queried Dorim as he watched a recap on that scrying orb with the news. Something about a gardenaha.

Tyrion Veltras is back?

Eryes, Lord Calidus! First Landing. Did you wish to ride out and visit?

Calidus was not at First Landing, but a private Reinhart holding. He could, with an enchanted carriage, get there. The question waswas there anything fun there? Calidus tapped his lips.

Do I have a ticket to the Players of Celum?

His head of staff fumbled aroundCalidus had given him access to the organizational system the last [Manager] had used. It had lists of servants, every item he had to pay attention to laid out in detail such that any idiot could see what he needed to do, like check the aviary for certain messagesCalidus knew it was a good system because hed designed it himself so he could rotate managers in and out. Even so, Dorim was slow, especially since he was an [Innkeeper]. Why had Calidus hired him?

Oh yes, the <Quests>. So fascinating, but exploiting the mechanics of how they worked had seemed like a lot of work. Calidus had wondered if you could create an infinite-loop of quests that rewarded more than you put in. Maybe hed try that later today. Unless

No, Lord Calidus. No ticket.

Damn. Then, has Miss Jasi responded to my letter?

N-no, Lord Calidus.

Lady Wuvren? Miss Esbell? Erdamn. Who else? Any letters like that?

No, milord.

Calidus nodded gravely.

Any day now.

The former-[Innkeeper] nodded back, as if hypnotized. Calidus was sure, positive, that he would get lucky one day. A [Lord] was a [Lord], and he could guarantee a grand time.

He wasnt looking for a relationship unless it was very fun, and nothing like a wedding. No arranged marriages for him, no thank you. A marriage into House Reinhart was soTerandrian to begin with. Let someone else make a poor girl or boys life a misery. He just wanted

Id think about visiting the city. House Veltras must be leaving the city aflame. How fast did Tyrion Veltras leave? Anything else happen?

Dorim hesitated.

Lord Veltras hasnt left the city yet, Lord Calidus.

The [Lord] was overturning bottles on the full banquet table, looking for a drop of wine or something else. He paused, genuinely surprised for once.

No? What, did all his horses throw a shoe? Whats keeping him?

As I understand it, House Veltras is resting for the moment. Lord Sammial Veltras has reunited with his father, and they are enjoying the city in the company of the Wind Runner of Reizmelt.

Aha! So thats why hes still there. Wind Runner. Wind Runner. Shes the one who ended the Assassins Guild! So she survived Ailendamus?

Calidus was interested about that. Hed heard that Couriers name a lot of late. Seldom charitably, but he was more fascinated by Tyrions antics. Dorim showed him a few summaries of the entire affair in the newspaper, and Calidus chuckled his way through it as the table was cleared.

Etril Wellfar blasted a statue of? Wont that be funny. Upset Wellfar. Upset Wellfarinternal politicstheyre convening a Conclave of Ships? Why? Thats not for Etril to be stripped of rank. Odd. I wonder if theyve had an encounter like those ghosts that popped up everywhere.

The blank look on Dorims face made Calidus elaborate.

Revelations. Its not a stretch to assume all the Five Families had one. I heard my great-grandfather was hiding in his hole for a daybut thats unique to us. I wonder if that will change what they do. But angry Wellfar means theyll be throwing bilge water at each other from ship-to-ship. Itll hurt trade if it comes down to a leadership dispute. Make a note in the Opportunities file.

Yes, Lord Calidus. Whatever you say, Lord Calidus. Whatwhat do I write?

Hm. Opportunity, disrupted trade Wellfar squabbles if Etril stays in command. Post it for two weeks. Ill know what it means.

It was then a problem for later Calidus to decide whether he wanted to earn some money. Which would be, namely, waiting for an actual fight at sea before swooping on whatever trade goods were disrupted or supplying vessels of ships in the interim. He had all kinds of notes like that.

For instance, hed bought every bit of Eir Gel he could find the instant hed heard it was a rare commodity. Hed trade it back when supply was critical.

But that was work, and Calidus did not like how his mind was spinning. If Wellfar did have a visitation, I wonder if I could find a way to get into the Conclave of Ships? Theyll be locked down tighter than Lady Zanthias pantaloons, but I bet Magnolia will want to know. Get one of the younger [Lord Captains] talking whod been invited and they might spill it. Lord Toysh might spill it if

No, no. What was he doing? Did he need to know? Calidus looked around.

Dorim, get me a cup of wine. Anything.

The [Innkeeper] hesitated, but he was getting into the flow of things. He watched as Calidus took down the wine, then smiled.

There we go. Now, to more pressing business. Tyrionhis idea of a good time is riding about in something strenuous. Is he doing a public hunt?

No, Lord Calidus. He is meeting with some of your peers. Would you like to meet with him? I believe he may be attending at least a few public receptions in First Landing. Should I list your name on the guest lists?

The odds that Tyrion wanted to meet Calidus were remote. Even if Calidus had some authority and powerwell, he could bull his way into most public events by authority alone. But the question was, did he want to do that?

Calidus put his two forefingers together and hmmed. His class whispered to him, and he listened to it with a smile. That was the thingif he were in a good mood, and he tried to be, people did like Calidus. Reinharts had their charm, and he told them what he liked, and many people got on board with that.

There is one pressing, quintessential question I need to ask you, Dorim. The only question I need to ask, and it is about this Wind Runner.

Ryoka Griffin? Yes, Lord?

How attractive is she? On a scale of one to Wuvren? Herfigure. Is it worth seeing like a work of art? And how interested would she be to a charming suitor, or is she romantically involved with Lord Tyrion?

Dorims mouth stayed open until he mustered a response.

Iwould not know aside from the scrying orb, Lord Calidus. Would you like me to find a broadcast with her? I think gossip has her involved with Lord Veltras romantically. He did join a war for her.

Calidus abandoned his train of thought at once.

Forget it, then. Im not even risking the thought of a duel. Very well, very well. Last question before Im of a mind to strike First Landings markets. What news of the new lands?

That was his curiosity of late. Calidus listened to reports of more half-Elven ships setting sail for their colony, Drakes planning expeditionsand the private movements of powers who wanted to be circumspect for the moment.

Even drunk, he was fascinated. But he was alsocurious.

And House Reinhart has said were doing? I mean to say, my cousin, Magnolia has proclaimed?

Nothing yet, Lord Calidus.

The [Lord] nodded, but dissatisfied.

You checked the dovecots? The [Messages] from home? All of them? The private?

Yes, Lord Calidus. All of them. I assure youshe has said nothing.

Calidus frown grew wide for a second, then he flicked his fingers with a sigh.

Shes probably just keeping it hidden from us. Magnolia never fails to miss her mark. She saw the sugar marketput a note for tomorrow for me to check.

Because, obviously, the new lands were a huge opportunity. A large amount of trouble, butCalidus put it from his mind. Trust Magnolia. Dont trust her to do something for him, but trust her to be intelligent. What helped House Reinhart helped him. He spent the next thirty minutes happily trying to find the most evocative shot of Ryoka Griffin as his carriage was readied for travel into First Landing.

Right up until Calidus Reinharts gloriously uncomplicated day, uncomplicated monthuncomplicated last nine years, really, suddenly developed a hitch.

He received some very unwelcome guests.

How were you supposed to say it? Oh, yes. A man has to have certainacquaintances. Who do him favors. To get ahead, one must incurdebts.

And then you added a significant pause and a wink or meaningful look. Mostly, the person got what you meant, but a few idiots still needed you to explain it.

What that all meant was criminal contracts. Unsavory associates. The underworld, in brief.

Calidus didnt really care to put a fancy name on it or make excuses. He worked with shady people. It made life easier. The Watch and your militia, if you wanted to bother with something like that, was usefulto a point. But he was no Tyrion. He wasnt going to spend all dayand a fortunemaking a private army. For one thing, Aunt Magnolia frowned on that.

For another? You could hire professionals for most problems. Yes, they were gangs or whatever, but most were reliable in their way. If you were some kind of newcomer to the scene, you might hire a lice-infested [Bandit] gang whod take your money then rat you out to the nearest law enforcement once captured.

However, if you were Calidus, you paid for a gang to sort out an issue. Mostly just an [Assassin], actually.

It had all been so convenient a few years ago. The Circle of Thorns had really messed up the Assassins Guild. Or had Aunt Magnolia? They were a useful, discreet group, and now they were gone.

Problem, that. Calidus had kept thinking how bad it was to not have them around. The Drakes had their own [Infiltrators], and foreign nations loved their spy-games. The Assassins Guild had been necessary. Not even a necessary evil for him. Just necessary; the instrument of Izrils noble families.

Then again, the Assassins Guild had made some stupid decisions of their own. He had been very unhappy to see them essentially shoot themselves in the face with poisoning Tyrion Veltras sons. So in that sensetheir collapse might have been for the best.

However, you could never stamp out a rat infestation, even if you blew up most of the bases. Calidus knew that too, and so he had guessed the Assassins Guild might return, if they found a way to reestablish their credibilityor fearand especially if they were needed.

The problem was, he realized that in lieu of a safe haven, the surviving [Assassins] and members of the Guild, not all of them practicing [Assassins] but support staff, needed a place to go. And, desperate, they might look for the nearest hospitable person of sufficient influence and friendliness to support and shelter them.

Why that was him, he didnt know. But Calidus first premonition of his coming headache was the Unmarked Coach rolling into his domain.

Nothing normal came from the Unmarked Coach. Calidus got a warning about it from a [Blackmarket Contact] he had cultivated a relationship with minutes before he felt it.

A powerful coach rolling into his domain. It didnt even try to hide, so it was akin to knocking on his door rather than sneaking in. He closed his eyes, canceled his visit to First Landing, and swore.

Dorim? Get metwo of my private [Message] scrolls, the good ones. And food; another banquet.

Already, milord? But were not even cleaned up from

Just get the food out. Tell Ingon to make good, straightforward food. Oh, and put all the silverware away. It will tarnish. We have guests coming.

Calidus hurried Dorim around, mostly just telling him to put out food and refreshments as the Unmarked Coach came in. He feltmore intrusions in the back of his mind. Probably people coming in on horseback or more conventionally.

Wonderful. Hed already figured out what they wantedit was obvious, he just hadnt expected hed be the one chosen. But Calidus just waited for them to present themselves at his mansion.

He did not bother telling the head of security to do anything. His [Guards], mercenaries though they were and decent, would be like children fighting Minotaurs. If he had a problem, there was only one solution for that.

[Message] scrolls, keyed to House Reinharts private networks. Magnolia or the real head of their family in some senses. Probably the old ghost himself; Calidus knew Magnolia had taken some of her best south.

But if he sent for reinforcements, the odds were he, Calidus, would already be dead. Or would later be dead.

No, no. That was the rare play, the unhappy one. Calidus was chewing down on some delightful fruits from Oteslia when his guests were admitted into his mansion. Watermelons from Oteslia, with salt of all things on top.

His first impression of his guests was a single Human woman, dressed all in black. So predictable. She even looked like an [Assassin], cloth wound around her limbs, a scar along her throatso it had been cut at least once. She came into his banquet hall flanked by eight of his guards, all of whom looked nervous and at their most professional. She spoke with a slight Chandrarian drawl that he wanted to place as Roshal, but might be any nation on the western coast; he was no expert.

Lord Calidus Reinhart. I hope we havent disturbed your morning?

Calidus was focusing on his wedge of watermelon. He glanced up, but he immediately nodded as he put his snack down.

Immensely. You lot know I dont like headaches. But here we are, and Im sobering upagain. Sit, sit, and lets get to your offer so I can break out the wine. Actuallylets all have some now. Pour a glass, dont wait on me!

He tossed the rind down and picked up a cup and pitcher. Calidus filled it airily, took a drink, and wished he could go straight to oblivion. But the pitcher held water, damn the stuff. He did need to use his mind.

Still, the [Lord] had some kind of effect on the female Assassin. She hesitated, and her eyes flickered to his table. Calidus pointedly ignored her. He glanced at some of the set cups and plates at his table. Hed had the room set out like a formal dinner, which he almost never had; he preferred informal parties. But he needed to prove something, so he gave one of the empty, worn-velvet chairs hed gotten from a deceased uncle or aunt or something a pointed look.

Or is wine not to your tasting?

With chuckles, the Faces appeared. And it was showy enough, even if Calidus had ruined their moment.

A shadow from the early morning sun against a drape stretched, and a figure walked out of it to sit down gracefully in an open chair. Another simply appeared, shedding an [Invisibility] spell. A third person slithered out from under the table and into a seat. Calidus counted.

Eight. Either that meant eight Faces were left and there were a few more they hoped to invite or rejoin their number, or there were less and they were inducting some of their Ranks to make themselves seem stronger than they were.

It didnt matter. He nodded as they filled their cups and sat. The female assassin, their spokesperson, caught herself and bowed.

Lord Reinhart, you live up to your familys reputation for cunning.

No, I dont. I live up to my reputation for having a fine time. I just know [Assassins]. One of you lot was my nanny. Family tradition. Old Ressa actually stuck around, didnt she?

Oh, they twitched at that. Ressa was probably not in their good books, but what were they going to do about it? She had been one of their most talented graduates back when they were friendly with Magnolia.

We have had a fond relationship with House Reinhart of all the Five Families, Lord Calidus. Bearing that in mind, we hope you will consider our offer now.

Calidus lifted a hand, cutting off the obvious-assassin.

Before we beginIm going to be distracted all the while youre talking if I dont settle this. Are you an instructor or just a [Scribe] or something?

She was no [Assassin] proper. Calidus based that on the fact that she was doing the speaking. Proper [Assassins] sometimes lacked, uh, tact. Since they learned how to deal with their problems very directly. Secondly, she was playing into the look so heavily. The woman bit her lip and replied after glancing at the seated figures.

They were watching him. Calidus felt that wonderful crawling on the back of your spine, but he solved it by continuing to eat. If he died, well, what a waste of everyones time, eh? They didnt need to do that. They needed him.

[Instructor]. Roshal-trained.

She admitted after a second. Calidus waved cheerfully at her.

Have a seat, then! We have foodIm not sure what my [Chef]s made. Try the watermelon. So you lot want a place to stay. Im not going against my aunt. No offense to the Guild of Assassins, but I fear Aunt Magnolia more than you lot. If youre going to stay, you need to give me a real incentiveor make peace with her. Or both. But you knew that. So whats your offer?

Again, the impressively-deadly figures slowed a moment to imperceptibly communicate. Calidus just leaned on his armrest, drumming his fingers. All of this was obvious. But they went with threats. They always had to go with threats.

The Guild of Assassins does not have many enemies, Lord Calidus. Ours tend to decrease over time.

One of the figures spoke, hoodedand Calidus peered in fascination at a Gnoll, perhaps, sitting with crossed arms in their chair. Was this the non-Human arm of the Guild of Assassins?

Maybe that was exactly it. Either they had been operating too far from home to be killed or join the fighting or these were foreign [Assassins], trying to revitalize the guild and rise where they hadnt been as famous in Izril. More and more interesting.

However, the bluff just made Calidus laugh. He saw them stirring and poured himself another cup.

Oh, have another drink. Its good wine. Decent. Its wine. Im well aware any of you could kill me. The difference between you and Aunt is that she can kill a [Lord] or [Lady] of Izril and survive. Shes been our executioner, and I doubt any Face of your Guild can match her body count for my peers.

He leaned forwards, eyes glittering with amusement. If he died herewell, Calidus didnt expect any tears from his family. Except maybe crocodile tears. But there were consequences.

The [Assassins] were silent as Calidus kept drinking. He put down the cup and wiped at his mouth.

If Aunt Magnolia finds you here, were all dead. Reinharts follow her. You know shes banned us from causing trouble. So its a bribe or deal with heror both. Which?

He waited. His guess was that they wanted him to intercede with Magnolia and let them off the hook. She might go for it, but it was going to be a hassle, and Calidus suspected it still might end with his mansion in flames and her staff fighting the [Assassins] while he sat in his safe room and got rip-roaring drunk. Which was purely annoying.

However, Calidus was surprised for once by the response, and because of that, he was gratified. For the spokeswoman did not do either at firstshe just handed him a single letter.

This is for you, Lord Calidus. I trust you can verify it. It is ourcommitment we hope you will extend to this cause. As you can see, it exonerates your part in this affair. As for reward, we hoped to discuss that revolving around your contributions to our rebuilding

Calidus half-heard her. He stared at the letterand the sealand his heart began to pound as he cracked it, checked the trim of the letter, the edgework, even stabbed it with a dagger and tore the paper slightly to see the interwoven fibers. Then he uttered an oath and tossed it down.

Ah, kissing Wellfars. Kiss the Wellfars and slap a Veltras. So thats how it is?

He didnt even read the letters contents. Not really. The instant Calidus saw who it was from and confirmed the identitythough hed have to make triply sure by an in-person visithe knew.

The old man wants you back? Does Aunt Magnolia know?

Regis Reinharts letter lay on the table as the [Assassins] smiled. Calidus drummed his fingers faster. So that was the play? Regis didnt usurp power, but he could issue orders. He didnt overturn Reinhartsor did he? The family history had a lot of holes.

Either way, he probably saw the same gap Calidus did. Izrils north needed an Assassins Guild. And he had to shelter them?

The [Assassins] saw Calidus scowl, and their spokeswoman spoke quickly.

Lord Calidus, we will be an asset, we trust, in all your personal affairs. We have a number of goals as well as attention on Izrils new lands.

You and everyone else. Why me? Let Aunt Magnolia deal with it. Offer your services to her, and shell make use of you after she spanks a few bottoms.

Calidus snapped back, genuinely vexed. He really didnt want an Assassins Guild headquarters in his lands, even if they never bothered him and made it far on the borders. They lingered around. However, the [Instructor] of assassins raised her brows.

Lady Reinhart has made no overtures to the new lands, Lord Calidus. Unlike the other Five Families, she has made private pledges to Oteslia to abstainin return for their cooperation towards her peace agreement.

The reply shocked him. Calidus hand slipped, and he nearly knocked over a pitcher. One of the [Assassins] gestured, and it froze, mid-tip. He took the handle, thinking that was a nice party trick. Maybe they would make the parties better if he had to suffer them. But Magnolia?

Shes not going after the new lands? But the opportunityeven if we dont settle the damn stuff and its filled to the gills with Crelersnot one move?

Transportation, protection, new trade, speculating on eventsthe [Assassins] assured him Magnolia Reinhart had not made any moves. All for her Drake alliance.

What was she doing? Calidus wished he had a vineyards worth of wine in his cup. And as if they noticed that, the spokeswoman produced something else.

Lord Calidus, consider this a token of the Guilds esteem. If you would like to use our services or support our taskthis is but a small token of our appreciation.

She presented him with a vintage that made Calidus stir. He accepted a bottle, blew some dust from the label, and read

Silvarian Umbral, C.O.T 319.

That predated the King of Destruction. Hed have to check the dates, but he guessed it might be a century and a half old, around the time when Perril Chandler had been famous. Calidus hesitatedthen uncorked the bottle with a speed that made some of the wine-appreciators wince. He took a sniff, poured an experimental cup, and stared at the glowing white wine.

Magical wines. He took one sip, and his expression lit up. Calidus glanced over the rim of the cup at the watching [Assassins]. And thenall the worries and thoughts milling around his head went away. He sailed serenely in a world of intoxication and sighed. Then Calidus threw his arms wide, beaming.

My dear friends. Where would you like to stay?

More [Assassins], their trainees, and staff were waiting for the signal. Not to flood Calidus mansion, but to find somewhere unoccupieda field at worstand dig.

Underground protected them from scrying spells, and they had to lay low at first. But theyd be rebuilding their client lists, training up a new generationand earning money.

They had the support of House Reinhart and the Circle of Thorns. Calidus wasnt to know everything, of course, but he would be a useful ally. The man was simple, and if they kept the enticements coming and did him favors, he would probably let them conduct their business in peace.

That was their perspective on it, at any rate. Calidus did quite enjoy the feeling of magical intoxication as he walked around his mansion.

Purely delightful. He felt like he could cast some spellsdrunkwhich was the best way to do it. And he wondered if some of those lovely [Assassins] might not want to share some company when they werent stabbing people?

Ah, the possibilities. [Assassins] were sometimes more trustworthy than you thought. Good help! Hard to find. And all of thisall of this

Sounded like a whole lot of damn work. He did not want opportunity to drop into his lap. Damn the old man. Damn Magnolia for not doing what she should be doing and squeezing gold out of rocks. And damndamn

Damn the Gnolls for being the target of Drakes and raising new lands! Yes, damn them too!

Calidus kicked open a door and nearly scared to death the man sitting and working on a complex magical gadget or something. The man had white in his hairwhat he had left of it.

Calidus! Do you want to get us killed? I told youdont bother me when youre drunk! Or did you contract another disgusting disease?

Not at the moment, Zeom, old fellow. Come on, take a break. Ive got some fine wine, and we have guests.

What kind of nobility or party-loving wastrels are they? And address me with respect. Im the greatest [Enchanter] in all of Izril.

Zeomtoril, Zeomtorillook at what I have. A Silvarian Umbral.

A what? And you justwithout delicacy or even a glass togive me that.

The greedy old man instantly dropped what he was doing. He checked the bottle, then poured himself a generous cup and sniffed the bouquet before taking a sip and sighing in pure exultation. Which went to show he knew something about wine.

Then again, he was a fine [Enchanter]. Finest in Izril was not something that Calidus could back, not so close to First Landing. But Zeomtoril was good at enchanting. And alchemy. To look at it, he might be working on some gadget for the black market. Then again, he might have made the metal parts of the orb-like device himself because he could also smitheven if he didnt really have the physique for it.

Of course, Zeomtoril could have bought the metal himself since he could haggle. And read every written script every species had invented. He could speak Drathianmultiple variantsand Goblin, which had really interested Calidus when theyd met, years ago.

Zeom was, in fact, very good at a lot of things, which was why he had rooms in Calidus mansion normally locked and warded from the parties Calidus threw. Only the [Lord] could gain access here, as part of his sponsoring of Zeoms everything. It was a good deal, even if Zeom complained about making Calidus potions to increase his libido or curealls for nasty venereal diseases.

Zeom was a [Polymath]. In fact, he was a [Genius Polymath], which Calidus suspected made him practically unique. Why he wasnt a [Sage] was probably because Zeom had had bad gambling debts and other problems he got himself into. Wisdom and Zeomnot exactly bedfellows.

Intelligence, however? Zeom was, like Ingon, one of only two members of Calidus entire employ the [Lord] felt should remain permanent. Not for loyalty in Zeoms case, but unrivaledif tricky to managetalent.

This is fine stuff, Calidus. It almost merits you interrupting me. Who are my guests, and what do you want?

Oh, just a bit of research, Zeom. Weve got the Guild of Assassins setting up shop here. Youve done work for them.

The [Polymath] raised his brows, not afraid, just surprised and intrigued.

The Guild? Theyve hired me before, but they dont like paying my rates, and their jobs were boring. Are you consolidating your power? That would be interesting. I thought you hated entanglements, though. And the Guild isnt always trustworthy.

Calidus heaved himself into a chair and sighed as Zeom glared. The [Polymath] would throw a fit and [Cleanse] it later, Calidus was sure. He hated unclean things and had built everything in this room, from the door to the chair. In fact, hed even hand-sewn the spider-silk robes he wore. And he wore no underwear, an unfortunate fact Calidus had learned.

I know. I dont trust them. I want you to check for poison or manipulation spells.

And here was the thing. Zeoms face instantly turned hostile. He hated being given orders or work he considered beneath his time. Which was everything.

Why should I do that? Its none of my business if you keel over. How much are you paying me? Give me a number and Ill think about it. I could use some more materials.

Calidus smiled broadly.

Thats no Drake ship. Those arent Drakes. Or Dullahans.

Now, why would he think they were Dullahans? Gaoelos head spun around, and he fixed on the small ship.

He would have barely paid attention to it regularly. Only to avoid smashing it; hed never have to worry about such a ship unless he was doing a sailby of the land or heading into port.

It was barely seaworthy. Essentially, it looked like some kind of coastal fishing boat. A bad one. It had poor lines, and whoever had built it had made it almost as squat in the water as Shifthold. Perhaps theyd tried to make it circular in the hopes that that would spread out the mass and float? That wasnt how the sea worked, but it still had some basic nautical design.

What made Gaoelos do a double-take was the crew. The ship could barely hold thirty figures, and they were all clinging to the sides, those not rushing around and trying to adjust the sails and rudder in the choppy waters. They had oars out, too.

And they were Antinium. The half-Elf stared as his horror became disbelief. Antinium didnt sail!

But they were sailing. Against all odds, a terrified Antinium was gripping the wheel. He hadto Gaoelos compounding confusionan equally terrified Drowned Person standing next to him.

Mostly because of Shifthold. But the Antinium vessel didnt even seem nervous of Shiftholdmore of capsizing. The winds the [Mages] had called were blowing them in a circle; they had no idea how to tack into the winds, and the Antinium were visibly panicking as their Drowned Person tried to tell them what to do.

Irurx hadnt seen them. He was coming in for a full-on collision between the ships. Gaoelos tore himself away from the strange sight. Then he felt his skin, already burning with faint acid and sweating with cold fear and wet with the sprayprickle.

The shriek in the air overrode the chittering of insects. It drowned out the buzzing, the roar of blood, even Irurxs laughter. The fleeing half-Elves and the crews of both ships looked up, and the buzzing? It grew into the thrumming of wings. The insects in the sky, buzzing from Shiftholds decks, turned as one. Then they began to flee back to Shifthold as fast as they could. For here came a shape, dropping out of the skies faster and faster, half as large as Waterlily. Such a monster that even Irurx froze up a secondwith delight and horror.

Gaoelos just felt the horror as Wrymvr the Deathless of the Antinium came soaring down the coastline. The Centenium had been in the air, tracking the Antinium vessels maiden voyage. Nowit was headed straight at Shifthold.

Alchemist Irurxs look of delight at once turned to one of concern. He slowed his advance as Gaoelos seized the wheel and spun it away from both Antinium and Irurx. The [Alchemist] stood on deck as Waterlily began to flee.

Hail, great Antinium! I come in peace before your Queens and beg

Wrymvrs mouths opened widerit had so many mouths! So many limbs! Itopened two shrieking maws, and the scream that was making Gaoelos inner ear vibrate suddenly turned into a rippling that was physical.

Instantly, one of the [Storm Sailors] puked. Gaoelos looked up and thought he saw the air shimmering. Or maybe it was the insects of the [Alchemist]. They dropped out of the air like rain, dead, splashing into the ocean and raining across both decks.

What was it doing? Some kind ofsound attack!

It was extremely effective. Half of Irurxs crew fell, shrieking, clawing at their heads. The [Alchemist] himself clapped a hand to his ears, but he threw somethingand a void of sound swallowed whatever the Antinium was doing. Wrymvr passed overhead, mouths still shrieking, but Irurx had neutralized the sound.

So the Centenium opened another maw and spat blue liquid straight down onto Shiftholds decks. Gaoelos saw it cover the horror with eight arms. The creature keeled over as the blue liquid froze in seconds, literally melding it with the deck.

Great Antinium!

Irurx ducked as a second glob of the frozen spit came his way. He threw something, and the fiery explosion turned into steam as he defended himself. Then he stopped talking and threw his wheel around.

Shifthold turned as the Centenium banked, turning for a second attack run. Wrymvr passed over Shifthold and then Waterlily, but watched both vessels fleeing the Hivelands shore without attacking. Gaoelos stared up as Irurx fled and felt disbeliefand even gratitude.

Were they alive? He had never heard of a [Captain] being assailed by Wrymvr outside of the Antinium Warsbut no one had been stupid enough to land on the Hivelands! Were the Antinium patrolling their shores now? They had boats?

Then he realized he had just sent his people to their deaths. Because the Centenium was heading to shore where the half-Elves had disembarkedjust in time to meet the Antinium vessel and the Centenium. Gaoelos ran to the railings as Irurx fled.

The [Alchemist] had disappeared into the ocean, swearing vengeance, by the time the half-Elven navy and Wellfar ships arrived.

Vengeanceupon his kin. Not the Antinium. He would be back. And so long as he was there, any half-Elf in Izril or at sea was in grave danger.

Monsters at sea. The half-Elves were terrified of Irurx, the [Alchemist] of Horrors. He had slaughtered the crew of a powerful ship, and despite Waterlily and her people surviving mostly unharmed, his people feared him more than they feared even the Antinium. A master of insects and bodily horror who held a grudge against his entire species after they had failed to burn him to death. Multiple times.

Anand thought that was fascinating. At least, he did after he stopped throwing up.

That was something Anand wished the Antinium were incapable of. Why could they throw up but not weep? After lying on the wonderfully solid ground and expelling all his breakfast and lunch for thirty minutes, he got up and saw all those amazing ships.

Wellfar ships. Half-Elven colony ships. Anand began taking notes. He had a really good view of their broadsides, and he decided they would be the next iteration of the Antinium ship experiment.

Torthe, his Drowned Folk instructor, looked like she might want to jump into the ocean and swim to one of the ships. But she had remainedpossibly because, as a Drowned Folk [Pirate], Wellfar or the [Storm Sailors] might well have executed her sooner than give her shelter.

There was also Wrymvr to consider. He stood, watching the Humans and half-Elves beat a fast retreat. The Centenium didnt pursue them, nor did he slaughter the half-Elves whod landed on shore as they rowed back to Waterlily and fled.

Centenium Wrymvr, you are showing diplomatic tact? But you chased off Shifthold. I thought you might insist on taking the half-Elves prisoner. Or letting the Flying Antinium kill them. Which I would have objected to.

Anand looked up from his rapid sketching. Indeed, one of the reasons the non-Antinium peoples were fleeing so fast was because of the thousand Flying Antinium who had come leap-flying their way as the Queens detected the intrusion. Wrymvrs reply was, as always, a mixed-voice reply, staccato and brief.

Half-Elves. Non-neccesary conflicts. [Alchemist] danger. Half-Elves danger.

Ah, to you? It would be risky to fight so many high-level half-Elves and their wonderful ships.

Anand nodded. Wrymvr made a krtching sound.

No. Danger to each other. Alchemist hunted. Half-Elf colony. Drake conflict with half-Elves inevitable. Divide them.

Oh. Oh. That is sound strategy. I did not realize that youunderstood strategy on this level.

The Centenium shuffled around so he could stare at Anand. Torthe hid behind the [Strategist], but Anand was fairly sure Wrymvr wouldnt do anything. If anything, he suspected the Centenium was most amused by his replies. And the most relaxed of the three Centenium, compared to Klbkch and Xrn. He did not kill irreplaceable assets.

No. Yes. I am not Queen. Same strategy. Demons. Blighted Kingdom. Opportunity.

Wrymvrs tone was amused, just as Anand suspected. Or was it hismental tone? He didnt exactly act like a Queen, but Anand kept picking up emotional tones that werent there in Wrymvrs voice. Maybe that was what the Centenium was so excited about? Birds big discovery?

The new lands of Izril meant a new chance for everyone, it seemed. Anand shuddered as he gazed southwards.

Maybe we can go there instead of building boats? After being in our ship, I do not know if this is a sound strategy.

Keep building boats.

Anand sighed and lowered his head.

Yes, Centenium Wrymvr.

The longer he stared, the more offended he became. And he had woken up furious at everything and everyone. But the Antinium were especially indelicate. If they were truly a worthy people, warmongering aside (and that was by way of being one of their few redeemable features), they would have surely produced some art.

Some culture. Perhaps they had lost that too. But if they had any worth, they would have ended up in regal Khelt as citizens, for all true peoples aspired to that paradise as the worthiest end-all.

The Vizir Hecrelunn was angry at them. However, he was also enraged at Fetoheps weakness, at the contemptible flaws in the modern nations

And enraged at his own weakness.

Khelta was gone. Heris likewise. Hewas alone. And they would never be brought back, in an era where a [Necromancer] to surpass even Khelta might bring all back to a world where the dead and living had no distinction or end.

Now, even the wearisomebrave and brokenSalui had chosen oblivion over existence. Khelts lineage of rulers was gone. The ghosts of their people, devoured.

And he did not even know by whom.

So, Hecrelunn was mad with grief and loss and indignation

Because they had forgotten about him.

[Vizir] Hecrelunn. The same man who had made Khelt a superpower in Kheltas day. The treacherous dagger to the undead hordes that had plunged into nation after nation! The unpredictable schemer, the

[The Vizir of Treacherous Majesty].

His magic matched the so-called Archmages of this age. And that was but his magic. He could ride a horse, dictate law, and compose poetry while conducting himself in a duel with a [Blademaster].

And he refused to serve Fetohep. Khelt, the old Khelt he knew, had gone the moment Hecrelunn went to sleep. Now Khelta was gone

There was nothing to protect. Yet I am Khelt. So: rejoice. For Khelt shall always be made anew. If I must carve it out of the very sands, we begin again. And that poor fool on his throne will acknowledge me.

He monologued, addressing his new subjects as they stared up at him. Hecrelunn floated past the screaming attendants of whatever local noble-king had just been sitting on the dais.

Yes, a more bountiful nation, here. Too exposed to the coast along Chandrars east, but far enough from that King of Destructions influence and Khelt itself for him to build something worthy.

Hecrelunn stared down distastefully as the mortals gazed up at him. One raised a bow, and he turned his head slightly as an arrow froze, quivering in midair.

I forgive trespass once. As a ruler does to servants yet to learn their place. Mercy, temperance, kindnessKhelta was always kind. She chose a land, you see, where no one would contest her. Worthless land. New Khelt shall be made on richer bones.

The coastal province had lovely roads. It was clearly a minor trading hub; affiliated with larger nations, but easily conquerable. The proof was, after all, the lack of anyone over Level 40 in the entire worthless state.

Surely, the other city-states would object to their neighbor and Hecrelunn himself. He would need to instill the appropriate amount of awe and fear in his subjects. But he didnt worry overmuch.

He had his levels. And an army without champions was an easy target for meteors. The Vizir took his seat on the throne at last and adopted a regal pose. He spoke to the mortals kindly. As kindly as he could.

I am Vizir Hecrelunn. I remain the [Vizir], though I shall be regent and ruler of New Khelt. For my [Queen] could never be surpassed. Rejoice, for you will never want for anything once this land has reached its true potential. If you would squander this moment, bear arms against me, flee. Flee and grovel before any power. For my armies and my reach will come soon enough. I am Hecrelunn. AND I WILL NOT BE IGNORED.

He waited for applause. An arrow was his only reply. Hecrelunn looked pointedly at a pillar, and his eyes flashed. The [Archer] keeled over with a cry. Then the first of New Khelts undead protectors began to rise. Hecrelunn sighed faintly.

He had to admitKhelta had always been slightly more charismatic.

Undead had a long life-span. Well, a fascinating one. Even in the deeps of the oceans, they could spawn. From whale carcassesand that was a horrific zombie to face.

However, they had an actual ecological place in nature; undead tended to make enemies of the living, so they were, often, held in check by other forces. Much like an invasive species, they could become a horde, but they evolved, changed, even developed sentience.

Wasnt that fascinating? Were they a new kind of life in a paradoxical sense? A zombie could become a Ghoul, Wight, then Crypt Lord, and even progress from there. They either subsumed themselves into a gestalt will or grew stronger individually.

Revenants were, if anything, the aberration in the process, binding a soul to a body. Howevershe had heard even Revenants could change.

Undeath fascinated Silvenia, and she had thought many times she might well be served by letting herself die and reanimating as one of them.

However, she only dabbled in necromancy. Silvenia giggled as she popped into existence. [Greater Teleport] spells took a while, and she noticed the other plane they travelled through always seemed subtly different.

This time, it had beenodd. But the world was odd. The half-Elf, the Death of Magic, let the rest of her contingent spread out warily and dowell, the things a non-flying, non-all-powerful being would do.

Set up camp. Secure the area. She just flew off in search of the closest thing that interested her. Which was undead.

There were some zombies, rotted and infested with seaweed and actual life, shambling about. How long had they been wandering the seafloor before magic had brought them up into the new lands? They were practically unique; were those mushrooms filled with death magic? Had she found a self-sustaining creature that generated more death magic than it consumed?

Deathless, please, stay near the camp.

Someone came after her. She rolled her eyes as the anxious Demon implored her to run protection.

This is why I said to bring Czautha. She has time for this. Hold on. Let me just[Stasis Box]. There. I am adding these to my collection.

The zombies froze mid-shamble towards the Demon. Not her; undead sometimes seemed confused as to whether she was alive. She didnt blame them.

Her face was semi-transparent, magical flesh replacing wounds yet to heal. The same for part of her stomach, her right arm, and numerous other parts of her body.

And shed gotten off lightly! Czautha couldnt rely on magical prosthesis as a Djinni. As for the Death of Wings

Well, they were alive. So Silvenia chuckled, because the Blighted Kingdom was trembling at them not yet back to their health. But she was also annoyed.

Annoyedbecause of all the people taking up her time.

Silvenia, can you teach us how to make better healing potions?

Silvenia, can you construct new buildings for us to live in?

Silvenia, something about saving lives instead of erasing them

Which she understood. When you had an actual [Archmage], you tended to want to use her for the betterment of all.

But she wanted to see what Wistram was made of. Especially Archmage Amerys and Archmage Eldavin. They might be interestingchallenges.

Especially Eldavin. Silvenia had some pride in home left, despite having long-since been exiled and her rank stripped for the crime of allying with Demons. Eldavinshe was bothered because she felt like she remembered an Eldavin.

And that would completely skew the numbers he claimed. She suspected trickery. Either he was part of damned Ullsinoi or he was one of them. She had her bets on him being a Dragonor an actually semi-immortal [Mage] like herself. A half-Elf benefited from time spells.

She hoped he was a Dragon. That was a foe that might be better than her, yet.

Vizir Hecrelunn. The King of Destruction. The Titan, the Stalkerand now she got to add Actelios Salash, the new lands of Izril, and all the rest of this to her fun.

Silvenias smile knew no end, but it soured soon enough. She couldnt stay in Izril. Every second, even concealed, was like trying to hide a lighthouses brightness.

She was old. Too powerful. She couldnt fly off and conduct her own affairs without abandoning her role entirely. So Silvenia flew back, sighing.

Damn it. Yes, yes. Im watching. No ones been eaten, have you?

Demons. That was what they called the many species in Rhirs other kingdom. Demonsjust because of the horns? Because of the mutations of the blight? Demonswhen some had belonged to Izril before Drakes.

Like the Harpies. Not that there were any here. Nor the more obvious demons like General Bazeth, who was practically a new species in appearance, with his horns and red skin, like a Minotaur crossed with a Human in some respects.

These Demons looked like, well, the other species. Humans and Drakes and Dullahans and so on. If they hadpeculiaritiesyou could put that down to magical quirks in their ancestry. Right now, they were working hard at securing their spot. There was some wiry shrubbery one of the big Dullahans was trying to yank up.

Base camp looks rough.

Silvenia floated overhead. She pointed idly, and the earth sank in a huge circle around the base. Stone began rising upwards until a Demon begged her to stop.

Deathless! Please! We would like this to look naturalif anyone so much as detects your magic

Oh, fine. I suppose you dont want any magical food, then? No scouting? I just get to fly on back and let you lot have all the fun.

Silvenia scowled petulantly, but she knew it made sense. She looked around longingly.

New lands. Cant I just fly over there? I see this wonderful valley

Deathless.

Silvenia actually pouted. But the point was that the few thousand Demons here were regular folks. She lingered because the moment she went back, shed have to teleport an entire ship, put another group on Chandrars northern shoresthat was a tiring amount of spellcasting, even for her.

But if it worked, they got to spread outside of Rhir. Perhaps even find allies, which would be a diplomatic coup unknown to the Demons. The Blighted Kingdom was very good at keeping them contained, but this land-rush

Every single Demon here might be dead within the month, and that was excluding their identities being revealed. So Silvenia praised their courage and envied them like hell.

She gave their leader an idle salute as she rolled over in the air.

Fine, fine. But youre taking a mighty risk. If I were youId worry more about your comrades here. You think Im impetuous? Czauthas kin dont play at being slaves well after being freed. Stay away from Chandrarians.

She cast a glance over her shoulder, and a few figures who glowed with magic straightened and watched her impassively.

Djinni. They wore chains, collars, and bracelets that looked quite realistic. But they were no longer slaves. Now, whether that held up when they met more of their kind

Well, it was inevitable. Not all the Djinni wanted to stay and fight the Demons eternal war, so theyd volunteered en masse to join this. EspeciallySilvenias eyes flickered to the most interesting being of the lot, who had spoken with her at length.

Coutei gave Silvenia a fine salute and grinned. He had a near-perfect Stitch-folk guise, so much so that she could barely tell he was a Djinni.

Ah, great and lovely [Archmage] of old, I, Coutei, will teach my kin how to blend in such that they wont need to even act in time! Never you fear.

Flatterer.

He actually called her [Archmage]. She blew him a kiss and then began to teleport back. She thought this entire idea was foolishnessbut the Djinni were adamant. Everyone wanted a part of the new lands. Everyone wanted hope.

Silvenia couldnt fault them on that. She watched the colony begin to lay down new roots. And privatelyshe wondered how long theyd act as a distraction. Once they were uncovered, the Blighted Kingdom would wipe them out.

She gave them five months. Five months of buying the Demons time. Ora new Deathless might emerge from their ranks. And that was a bet Silvenia could get behind.

One last group of schemers was hatching a plan in light of recent events. However, this last group did not care about the new lands, for once.

The new lands seemed damned dangerous, and they did not do dangerous, as a species. Unless said danger was a calculated risk. Even thenthey tended to outsource their problems.

Nor, contrary to some peoples beliefs, were they that organized. They had beenat timesbut despair had ruined their species more than once.

The Goblins could emphasize, if the hungry bastards were able to understandor were amenable to persuasion. They were one of the few species not infiltrated, and frankly, they didnt have much value either.

No, it was safe to say that they were justexisting. Just scraping by, in a hostile world. It was then rare for a call to be put out. But when it was put outtheir kind would listen.

Listen, and make use of a tool that had fallen into their collective laps. They had tried, again and again and again, to make something for all. And failed. However, this time might be different. And yes, their oldest minds recalled that being said before. But this time

Ghosts, a rising of new lands, all of it was portentous. None of their ghosts, mind you. They were not worthy. Yet. But perhaps

Perhaps she could help. Yes, her.

Ryoka Griffin.

She wasnt just a Courier, already useful. She wasnt just unusual or lucky. She had the representation of multiple powers. The Wyrm-King of Ailendamus. A mysterious Faerie King. The [Emperor] of Riverfarm. Even the Archmage of Memory and the Lucifen and Agelum.

More than that? She was a useful proxy. A willing dupe. She had all the qualities of the perfect agent, if they could put a hold on her. Sothe call went out.

Very, very carefully, the group who had decided to gamble once more secured a communication method to their comrades abroad. They had a contact in First Landing, so one of their number carefully relayed a message.

Baah. Bah. Mrhn. Maaaah. Baaaaaah.

The Sariant Lamb mewling into a speaking stone repeated itself twice before a pair of hands picked it up. It wiggled furiously, but then relaxed and smiled innocently upwards as a [Servant] recovered the speaking stone.

Lord Uziel, I found your speaking stone! Lady Sarathine had it, the little rascal.

Did she now? Those little lambs love all kinds of artifacts.

A chuckling Agelum wheeled over, followed by a herd of other lambs. They stared up at Lady Sarathine and got the wink. The lambs dispersed as Uzine recovered his stone.

The message was out. It was no longer their concern unless Ryoka came back.

First Landing. A Sariant Lamb in one of House Wellfars noble houses shot to its feet and clattered across the floor with tiny, ornamental shoes. Ryoka Griffin? They were trying again?

The futility of it all! But if Ailendamus herd vouched for herthen they had to make waves. Which went to show how Sariant Lambs took on some of the idioms and personalities of their owners.

The Sariant Lamb herself couldnt leave this self-adopted prison, of course. But she didnt need to; she had access to speaking stones, and she knew there was a group with a lot of mobility with that [Emperor].

All she had to do was tug at the hem of a young [Lady] who saw her burst into tears. And with a few nudges, the lamb would get a playdate with her friends because she was lonely, the poor thing.

There was a [Merchant] with two Sariant Lambs in his household. One could cover for the other, and the other would have to make the perilous journey outside. If caught, he might be returned or sold, but all he had to do was contact more of his kin in pet shops or a [Beast Tamer]s employ.

Word would reach Riverfarms herds in time. Or any Sariant Lamb group. And thenwell, then theyd see. Ryoka Griffin, eh? She didnt look that intelligent. But she might do nicely after all.

It was almost funny. Almost. But while it was true they communicated, they had a willno one really knew what drove the Sariants. And that was a desire that had seen their deaths by thousands. A despair not unknown to other creatures. From Gargoyles to Trolls tomany species. The Sariants were just the newest to struggle in vain, and hope hadnt yet been ground out of them.

All species like theirs ended up this way in time, if they lived long enough. Except for maybe Eater Goats.

They were just insane. But if they ever rose above itwell, then they would know true despair.

Calidus Reinhart.

Alchemist Irurx.

Vizir Hecrelunn.

Silvenia.

Lambs.

Heck, even Grand Magus Eldavin, and the Blighted King of Rhir. Any number of people, including the Emperor of Sands, the King of Destruction

Did you know what these people had in common? Among other thingsif you said the name Erin Solstice to them, they would know it.

Not directly, necessarily. But even Silvenia of the Demons knew that name. Because of <Quests>. And other rumors.

For instance, Calidus Reinhart came up with Erins name as he did his due diligence researching the new lands and the Assassins Guild. Erin Solstice was a persona non gratabut a difficult target. Plus, shed already died.

Alchemist Irurx knew The Wandering Inn as Ceria Springwalkers current residence and Liscor as a home of the fascinating Antinium.

Now, how many of these people considered Erin Solstice a threat? Silvenia, for instance, regarded Erin Solstice more as a targeta probable Earther. As a threat, she might laugh until she threw up part of her stomach.

But then againshe was different from being an unknown. She was, perhaps, if not a player on the board, a rather curious piece. Someone to reach out to or consider an enemy.

The age of the unknown [Innkeeper] was over. Only a complete fool would discount her; you could no longer rely on ignorance as an excuse.

Of course, even then, there were people who still didnt care.

It was all about ego. When you had been called [Archmage], you developed an ego, especially in the Waning World. That explained the attitude of the Death of Magic, for instance. Levels beyond all. More than that?

Watching your foes turn to dust. Laughing over their graves. And yesactually laughing over their graves or digging them up to mock them did something to the ego over time.

When you held the world in the palm of your hand and crushed armies sent against you like glasseven for something new like <Quests>, the [Innkeeper] was inconsequential.

This entire world was. A fragment of how it had beenand there was some irony in that, because even thousands of years ago, the old guard had said the exact same thing.

So perhapsthis was what it meant to be old. This was what it meant to be humbled, as well, to have all that earth-shattering power and stilllose.

To still be bereft, to still grievethat was immortal hubris. After aeons, humility snuck up on you and gave you a tap on the shoulder.

So, arrogance and humility tempered by loss. Despair, for the days that might never occur again. A very immortal perspective. Was he immortal? Hed never really thought of himself like that. A servant, yes. Now, a foe, but a poor one compared to the true master of magic and all things.

But this servant, this remnant of glory still exceeded everything and everyone who had come before. More than this Archmage Eldavin. More than even some former [Archmage] gone towhat? Demons?

He predated Demons. He had walked the time of Dragons and sucked the marrow from the bones of the ones hed killed.

He was named Tolveilouka Vedelina Mer. And he knew arrogance well. He breathed it. And yethe could recognize how arrogance had killed his master.

His arrogance. He shouldnt have toyed with the Putrid Ones guests. He haunted himself, tortured himself with the memories of them.

Pathetic adventurers. Hed assumed Silver-rank at most, lucky to reach the center. How it had outraged him to learn they were called Gold-rank in this day and age.

A bug-person, aa half-begun Woman of Metal, a half-Elf too incompetent to even restore her hand, and a [Necromancer] on the first steps to true power. A toddler, no, a newly-born infant in the face of the Putrid One.

And yetthey had broken the stasis. Murdered his master

No. No tears.

The half-Elf caught himself. And he was a half-Elf, when he chose to be. When he wanted, his body was fair, even nudethough he had dressed himself in robes the color of blood. They blew, now, and he lifted one finger and dabbed at his eyes. The first streaks of wetness were absorbed by the black fur of the towel he was using.

He ignored the sounds and commotion around him. The air whipped at Tolves hair and blew across his robes as he stood casually amidst the rocky terrain on a peak of stone exposed to the elements. His eyes sought the sky, and he stared up at the High Passes. His flaxen hair blew behind him in a single ponytail, like a field of wheat over a river of blood, his clothing. His robes blew around him, exposing his bare chest.

Never let it be said that Tolve didnt know how to look good. Once again, Tolve dabbed at his eyes. His towel made a faint baahing sound, and he regarded it.

Oh, yes. Arrogance. He saw it in front of him. Two slightly-wide, rectangular pupils. Slightly orange irisesand beautiful, black fur. Midnight fur, in truth, so unsullied and pristine compared to most of the animals which scraped on by with blood and tooth and claw.

Like the Eater Goats, who surrounded him, bleating in terror but frozen in place. Most had scars all over their tough bodies, and their mouths of incredibly sharp teeth had holes missingthey ate and reproduced like the savage things they were.

The same for the kneeling, trembling Gargoyles, led by their huge leaders, the Bossels. Superiority was embodied, for them, in size, viciousness.

But true death in the High Passes changed the higher you went. In some, it was sizebut look at this.

A rare species. The product of all-consuming hunger. Something you had to work for. You ate, and ate, and were so lucky and talented andeverything that you transcended the rest of your kind.

Then you shed your size, your teeth, even the defensive hide and skin. You became cute, almost as much as a Sariant Lamb.

But the hungerthe hunger remained. And if you became the height of consumptionat least in your mindyou learned how to eat not just just flesh, not just grind bone, but everything.

The Void Eater Goat kept trying to open its mouth. Create a void into which it would suck everything. It baahed again. Tolve patted it on the head, and it squirmed, confused. Fearless like its kind, but confused as to why it couldnt eat this strange prey.

You are such a lovely, stupid creature. I am almost tempted to pull out an eye to give you something to remember me by. You know, each part of you is prized by [Alchemists] and whatnot? Look at you. You think youre untouchable. But what about this?

He lifted the Void Eater goat and flicked it on the nose. It recoiled, confused by the unexpected pain, and tried to bite him manually. He laughed and held its mouth shut.

Now there was a look of faint outrage in its eyes. Like that yapping Silver Dragon when he was bested. Oh yes, you see? Youre not the greatest.

One of the Bossels moaned in fear. Tolve glanced to the side, and they froze up.

They were kneeling, and the Eater Goats, despite the dead corpses of Gargoyles and their kin, werent devouring the dead. They were too afraid to.

Dead bodies got up sometimes, yet Eater Goats could eat zombies or even Crypt Lords. But these undead?

A goat with blazing black eyes was noisily devouring a corpse. The undead Eater Goat looked up as Tolve mocked the Void Eater Goat.

Yes, youre such a terrifying monster. Oh yes you are! You have no notion in that mind of what lies above, do you? But youll all do.

He looked around at the Eater Goats. Thousands of them. The Void Eater Goat, their advanced kin, was a kind of spiritual leader to them. A terrifying omen of death who would happily eat them if it got hungrybut they respected it as a symbol of power.

The same with the Bossels. They led their clans of Gargoyles. Now, the leaders of every group he could find knelt in front of him.

It was, in fact, the fault of the Frost Wyverns. Because of their fight with the Lightning Dragon, they had destabilized the balance of power. Bossels had begun fighting Eater Goats, and everyone had fled the Void Eater Goat, and the Frost Wyverns had been occupying the territory theyd seized after coming down from the higher areas and losing to the Goblins.

Territory. Foodthe High Passes could not support too many. So what did live here was very dangerous, but seldom organized. Tolve patted the outraged goat on the head again, then withdrew something from his bag of holding.

The collar went click around the Void Eater Goats neck, and he put it down. Instantly, it tried to open a wormhole again and found it couldnt. Tolve attached a leash to the goats neck and turned.

Then, to the disbelief of the largest, shaking Bossel staring at the corpses of its kin that Tolve had slaughtered when he first arrivedthe half-Elf handed him the leash.

A present for you. Go on, take it.

The Bossel stared at Tolvethen grabbed the leash in terror. Tolve smiled.

They will follow it. I know youve leashed Eater Goats before. This one will go wild when you release it. I would save it for later.

GrGrdsh? Kethn.

Tolves head tilted left and right. Was that language? The Gargoyle was intelligent enough to make itself a club and lead a clan. The undead didnt really care.

Yes, Grdsh. Or whatever. Now, listen closely. Take your clan and head down the mountain. Down the mountain. And killoh, everything.

The Bossel listened, uncomprehending. But it got the message as Tolve did a visual diagram. Its eyes, orange, focused on Tolve with curiosity.

But why? Why are you sparing me? Why give him the Void Eater Goat and?

It had no perspective. Tolve made a shooing motion. But he did tell the Bossel why, as it backed up warily and the Gargoyles made sounds, corralling the Eater Goats, forcing them down the slopes.

Its because you do things in order. You test yourself. How fast can they beat you? Mortal armies? The Humans of the north? Are they as organized as the Drakes? If theyre nothow many cities burn? How many the first time? How many the second? How fast can you raze a city, and how fast can they build them?

He stretched, laughing to himself at those old questions.

Its a game. And if that team comeshow will they die if they meet that lovely little goat?

What could stop that arrogant goat? And if this failed, so be it. Tolve dangled his legs off the cliff as he sat.

Nothing and no one remains worthy of my respect. No one remembers his name, even. There is no reason to stop, but slowly. Slowly

He raised his hand, and his fair skin mottled. A plague, living mushrooms, sprouted along his arm. Growing out of flesh, rotting, buzzingTolve blew it over the Eater Goats, who looked up blankly as the spores grew on their coats. The half-Elf chuckled.

Oh dear. I think theres a monster plague. A plague of monsters, I mean. Send adventurers.

They streamed downhill as Tolve looked for another location, another opportunity. He stood and stretched and walked off. A day later, the alarm was sounded.

The High Passes were unleashing monsters. Thousands of monsters.

Authors Notes: If this is a shorter chapter, then I apologize, as well as the longer break, but as mentioned, Im going on a vacation.

Although, and Im going to complain for just a secondthe airline canceled my flight the first time. Then changed the date of my flight yesterday. Its been delayed a bit.

Travel sucks. However, I hope Ill have fun when I get there and the getting there and packing is the hard part. Which is what Im going to do right after this.

I hope you understandits one of the first big vacations Ive had for a long time since something about a pandemic. I dont know how restful it is since Im going to that wild, untamed land of Canananada. But I wont be doing much writing (I think), and Ill hopefully come back ready to write!

Thanks for reading and waiting until then. Wish me luck and a non-cancelled flight. Or rain. Or forest fires. Oryou know what? Just wish me not an Eater Goat attack. Thanks!

Azkerash Family Dinner and Treys Homecoming by Lanrae!

Grumpy Boba Tekshia by /Brack_Giraffe

Solstice Crest, Foliana, Cire, and more by Gridcube!