Roaring blared so loudly, it parted the blue fog for an instant in time. A beast’s head with grainy crystalized skin thrashed as it reluctantly marched onward, and an army of soldiers patrolled underfoot, wearing banners from a realm Alan didn’t recognize.

Then the fog converged once more.

The group tensed, feeling blind and surrounded.

Damn. They probably have the fog cleared… which means, they can see us!

Flint realized Alan’s thought immediately. “This way, everyone.” He crouched, heading toward a group of boulders barely visible beyond their sphere of sight.

“A mobilized army so soon?” Alan gritted his teeth. “It’s only been hours since the declaration of war.”

Lucius huffed under his breath. “Jaeger has been planning with his Red Pact for quite some time. My stay in his domain was brief, but clear… He only cares about one thing.”

Alan turned to face his prisoner, knowing Lucius was playing him. He wouldn’t give him anymore of his hope.

“Sir Alan,” Durger whispered as Neesha peered around the side. “I have lived through a war. My team was sent to a faraway fog before Junos manifested, to complete a grand quest in defense of Hightower. It was a turbulent time, indeed. Portals in and out of Ojin become hectic due to outside realms attempting to close their gateways. If we’re to enter Hightower Brack, it is best to convene with Madam Mar before we enter. They may already be under siege.”

“It’s weird. I imagined a race to take over realms, like Jaeger tried on us. But these troops don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to leave,” Alan commented. “It’s a good thing we left Strangey Town when we did. Flint, you should warn Mujungo the state of things here.”

“Wise thinking. I’ll convene with him as soon as we’re in the clear. I don’t need any Wizards intercepting messages at a time like this.” Flint grimaced.

“My friends, many horrid memories are coming back to me. The rules of the universe change in war times. Realm communications can become staticky too since the gods have been summoned into existence,” Durger cautioned. “Perhaps we should go back and fortify around Mujungo.”

“Then the other realms would be overrun, Durger,” Alan said.

He thought back to the owner of his old pawnshop. A chain franchise threatened to shut him and the rest of the neighborhood mom and pop shops down by buying out the block of real estate and cancelling their leases. The idea made Alan’s blood boil then. Taking it upon himself to negotiate with the incoming landlord – even knowing he didn’t have much in terms of leverage – proved to be a horrible failure.

Remembering the shop owner’s sunken eyes and heavy brow strains his heart to this day.

Now, however, he had the means to do more.

“Primary goal changed. It’s not just about dumping our prisoner. We’re going to get Junos of Hightower Brack to acknowledge the gravity of the situation. There’s no choice. He will accept alliance with Strangey Town as he promised on my last visit there, and we will defend our homes.”

The next few minutes were frantic as the army patrol sounded like it was coming from all angles, as if more troops were spawning from god knows where.

Neesha hissed and sat flat on her backside, feet in a muddy puddle. She magically pulled stone slabs from her bag and sorted through them. They lined up like oversized cards with a faint green glow. “Never wanted to skim through these again, if I’m being honest.”

“Question stones?” Alan guessed, sliding to a seat beside her.

“War-time ones, yes. If I equip one, the voices will start racing—”

“Then don’t, Neesha. We need you lucid.”

She settled on a stone and stuffed the others back into her bag, shrinking the pouch to normal size. “When I died my first death, I became obsessed with war and the reasons for it. You know. I told you.”

“Mhm.” Alan rested his arms over his knees.

“Well, that quest led me down some dark paths of this universe’s history. There are times of old when armies marched like this, Alan. We need to understand why.”

“But you just came to an answer stone, didn’t you? About this very topic.”

She smirked. “I did. And from what I found… what I saw in that frog’s vision… all the more reason to dive in again. I need you to trust me on this.”

“I do.”

Thdd. Thdd. Thdd.

The marching grew louder as more soldiers passed by.

Alan thought back to everything he’d encountered so far in his short time. Warriors can clear fog, but they can’t stake claims on land, except in the case of neutral territory for Merchants like the city of Sharas-da. So why the heck would an army be patrolling?

“They’re looking for something,” Alan realized.

As Neesha hugged her war stone, she shut her eyes, a green glow syphoning between them. “It is possible. There are many theories why an army would march. Valuable minion spawns can be monopolized for Title farming and loot.”

“I thought the universe had rules against that sort of thing.” Alan got back to his feet. “Wouldn’t Ojin just overwhelm the raid with unbeatable minions?”

“Not during war.” Durger frowned.

“Great. What else?” Alan asked Neesha.

“Visibility. Keeping warriors in key fog areas can prevent portal hopping between realms. A god may not be able to claim territory in Ojin, or enter the realm for that matter, but it can position its warriors strategically.” Neesha hugged the stone tighter, pulling more from it.

“Who would’ve guessed a stone chaser would be good for something besides mindless philosophy,” Lucius growled.

Neesha’s eyes sprung open. “Where do you think knowledge of the Pegs came from, prince?”

“Shh.” Alan quieted them.

Thdd. Thdd. Thdd.

“Halt!” a magically amplified voice rang through the land, and all the marching stopped. “Talvuld senses something. Half klick southeast. Inspect!”

Alan tensed. The voice sounded like it could’ve come from about that distance away. About a quarter-mile.

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Does their beast sense us?

Using some quick thinking, he Title swapped to Forbidden Merchant to bolster his abilities, and summoned his Five Pearls to orbit around him. He knew the item had a presence of its own and would call attention, but by his approximation, it was the only way to escape.

He thought back to his first day in Strangey Town, when Lucius turned them both into a shade. Wading through an entire hostile crowd as an ethereal wisp was a handy get-out-of-jail-free card, one worth bringing back to life in his orbs. Recalling the rules of the five pearls, he knew the memory was noncurrent, which meant a less potent magic, but he had to risk it all the same.

One by one, the pearls orbited orange and black like a Halloween wreath as Alan shoved the same memory into each.

“Alan,” Flint whispered, scrambling up to him and clutching his arm. “We must grab a slipstream and fly like the dickens.”

“No.” Alan drew his soul collector as the marching army became clear in their sphere.

“Sir! It’s warriors of Strangey Town!” A soldier called back.

How do they even know that?

“Seize them!”

“Uncuff me, Alan.” Lucius held up his arms. “You’ll need all the muscle you’ve got.”

Alan tugged the chains, dragging Lucius down like a bad dog. With a twist of his wrist he conjured a Saro gag to seal his mouth for good measure.

“Guards!”

Alan stepped up to the disturbed soldier. “We don’t want any trouble, sir.” Alan held up his hands innocently, commanding the pearls to circle his back. “Please, we seek council with your leader.”

Enchanted swords unsheathing echoed so far back that blood drained from Alan’s face. How would he be able to slip away from such a large force? Surely they have Wizards and Dreamcatcher’s in their midst to shackle shades down.

“The time for talk is done.” The front soldier marched forward, long beard and big brown eyes peeking through his black onyx mask. “We are at war. And now you are prisoners of it.”

“It is not too late to be rational, soldier. We only seek passage through the fog, and can pay handsomely for your protection.”

The soldier’s grip tightened around his hilt. Alan could see his jaw shifting under his mask. “Sir!” he called back, keeping eyes firmly on Alan. “He seeks word, and wishes to pay for passage. I think you’ll want to see who’s in their custody.”

“Hm. Make way.”

Armor clinking resounded far behind them, as the continuous thud of something huge stomped forward. A giant beast’s hoof sent shockwaves through Alan. Hard metal clamps worn like boots led up a furry white leg that bent the wrong way at the knee. The further up it went, the more disturbing the creature became. Its head curved like an awning – jangling jewelry outlining the square where a face like an angry stingray bore down on him.

A man with a high ponytail sticking out of his black helmet reared his head from his tall view, then kicked his beast to lower. He scoffed as he dismounted from a wooden box atop the beast, and unhooked his orange-tipped whip. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the prince of Cerrain, in the flesh.”

Lucius jangled in his chains, begging to talk. But Alan knew if he let that happen, the prince would wind up free somehow.

Fool me three times… I don’t think so.

“Word is you stabbed the ranger of the black, and betrayed Jaeger.” The head soldier lifted his visor to reveal a crooked smile and an unkempt unibrow.

“Word travels fast,” Alan said, regaining the soldier’s attention. “You are allied with Jaeger’s cause?”

“We are. Bubbin Chiles, head Knight of this patrol squad, loyal to the realm of Royal Hoard, newest member of the Red Pact.”

Alan’s mind raced. If Jaeger had been planning this war for some time, then he probably only kept his closest allies in the loop. Now that the war is open, he needs to rally the other realms, fast.

“Jaeger gave us no invite, so we were forced to defend ourselves,” Alan said smoothly. “Still, we hold no ill will since we think this great war can benefit all realms. Or at least, those victorious.” Alan commanded the five pearls to orbit his back. He then took a step closer and bent so only Bubbin could hear. “What if I told you another alliance already rivals Jaeger’s in army and in wealth? Wouldn’t it be prudent to pass the offer to your god, in case he or she wants to hedge their bets?”

WAR-TIME OFFER INITIATED

Note: War-time trades are not governed by ordinary universal trade laws, and are bound only by the word of the participants.

Note: Fulfilling such offers can yield great rewards.

Bubbin lifted his chin, considering Alan.

Alan knew he was overpromising, but if he didn’t have to put his group at risk by turning into shades, he might as well try.

“I have not heard of such an alliance?” Bubbin tilted his head the other way, pacing.

“I travel with the hand of Mujungo, and as you pointed out, a prince,” Alan said, cringing inside for how he was about to sell this next line. “My claims are not of common folk dreams.”

“Yes, I see that.” Bubbin continued to pace. “However, if I strike the lot of you down now, I return a hero for destroying a god’s hand in the first day of war.” His beast growled on cue – the giant face under the awning scrunching angrily. “Momentum would be ours. Treasure, reward… would be mine.”

“What good is treasure without the means to use it?” Alan countered. “We have big plans, Bubbin of the Royal Hoard. Find equal reward by allowing a Merchant and his band to live. Give us aid, and you may even tell your god you’ve won favor in the alliance. Flint Degoba of Strangey Town speaks on behalf of a founding member.”

Alan was really getting in over his head, but he started to believe this path the best for the universe if he could secure allies. Two sides of the same coin – rushing to realms to convince gods, and traveling through Ojin to gain favor of their messengers.

“What would you require of us?” Bubbin lifted his chin higher.

“Aid in clearing the blue fog, and safe passage west.”

“That all?”

“In exchange for admittance into the Unlikely Goods alliance, yes,” Alan said, watching Bubbin turn his back in thought.

“Unlikely Guds, Alan?” Durger whispered to him.

“Name of the old shop I used to work at. I don’t know. Play on words too. Unlikely Gods. I got it from your nickname!” Alan whispered back.

Bubbin turned after talking with some of his soldiers, staring directly at Flint. “You, hand of Mujungo. What say you? Is everything this Merchant says true?”

Flint held his hat and waved his staff, unleashing a line of oversized snowflakes over Bubbin’s head. “Every bit of it. We are striving to defend the universe, good sir. Alan is a near god himself, yet nobly sacrifices the great opportunity so that he may preserve the ways of the free, and thwart conquerors.”

“A near god, you say?” Bubbin sniffed.

“Sir, you may lose your head if Gosfor disapproves,” a soldier calls from behind, who Bubbin waves away.

“Gosfor values opportunity, Sloggen,” Bubbin spoke like he was already sold. “And you.” He pointed to Lucius. “What say you, prince – traitor of the legion, and apparently, in no favor of your own?”

Alan’s entire body went cold like Flint just cast a spell down his spine. “He is incapacitated.”

“Nonsense. Untangle his Saro gag.”

Shit!

Alan side-eyed Lucius, willing the five pearls to circle him again in case…

Here goes nothing.

He twisted the magical chain to undo Lucius’ gag.

“Screw off god groveler.” Lucius spat at Bubbin’s feet. “You’ll get nothing from me.”

“Hmph. Acting like the true scoundrel, Stalker that you are.” He kicked dirt Lucius’ way. “Did you offer fealty to this… Unlikely Guds?”

“Pretended to. They caught me.” He jangled his chains, exaggerating his prison persona. Alan guessed Lucius didn’t want to be taken by the Royal Hoard either. It made him wonder what kind of folk he was dealing with, really.

“That’s enough.” Alan took the reins by activating the gag once more. “What’s it going to be, Bub?” He felt like Wolverine for a second.

Bubbin licked his teeth. “I’ll bring your message to Gosfor, but I’m leaving one of mine in your presence ‘til I do. Those are my terms.”

Alan glanced at Flint, then Neesha and Durger, who all offered curt nods.

That means we’ll have to be extra careful.

“Deal.” Alan held out his hand, which was met by Bubbin’s.

WAR-TIME OFFER ACCEPTED.

If Gosfor, god of the Royal Hoard realm, accepts your terms into the alliance “Unlikely Guds,” unique war Titles will be bestowed to your party.

War Titles? Sounds like that could be plenty useful.

Bubbin clenched his hand tighter. “Itsy! Let’s go, soldier. You’re up!”

A barefoot lady with one wrist-guard and short-shorts strolled up to them, biting into a drumstick. “Mph. Putting me with the stupids, yeah? Hah.” She wagged the meat at Bubbin. “Maybe if they convinced you to help ‘em instead of kill ‘em, you’re the stupid.”

Oh jesus!

Bubbin pulled me close. “Been trying to get rid of her for ages.” He slapped Alan’s arm once. “Gesture of good faith, eh?”

This was a to-the-moon gamble. If he could somehow broker Junos and Mujungo together, this crazy woman would see that Unlikely Guds has traction. It could work.

“Welcome aboard, Itsy.” Alan motioned.

She nodded at Alan and winked at Flint. “I like me a long beard.”

“Aha! I can make it longer in a jiff.” He waved his staff, elongating his mustache into whiskers that hung to the floor. “These babies help me float better in Strangey Town. Maybe I can take you one day.”

Alan rolled his eyes as the two yapped in the background. This was not how he expected his first interaction with a war-torn army to go. “Alright, then.” He motioned for Bubbin to lead the way into clearing the blue fog. “Shall we?”