Eventually, David managed to navigate the social scene of the adventurer’s guild well enough to get a hold of someone who could be of assistance: An elite-ranked shaman by the name of Polium Cloudskimmer, epithet ‘The Swamp King’.

The Aviost was visibly aged, his left eye clouded over and his movements slow and deliberate. His black feathers were streaked with gray, and his beak, a long and thin kind, had a discolored patch that was clearly a transplant to repair serious damage.

He had his spirit companions, the polite adventurer term for a long-term contract that included the spirit’s physical presence, with him. There was a powerful toad-like mud spirit that he sat upon, with overgrown and muscular arms and warts so large and bulbous you couldn’t cover them with a hand. Coiled around him was a vine spirit of some kind, its serpentine body covered in tiny leaves like fur. Finally, hanging off of his shoulder was a smaller, less powerful pond spirit that wore a lilypad as a hat, looking mostly humanoid but vaguely frog-like in the face.

“So…” Polium said after he had a chance to assess the two adventurers who arrived at his shack. “I’ve heard you two are looking for a diviner that can plumb the depths of the Flowstone Mountains.”

“That’s right.” Casimir said. “This is what we’re hunting for.” He presented the Aviost with the updated quest form they picked up in town. “We can do this two ways: We could contract you for the search only, and pay you appropriately, or we could cut you in and you help us to the best of your ability. We’re all elite-ranked here, no need to quibble on ratios.” Also, the unexpected windfall from the trip to the Wounded Wastes meant that he didn’t care as much about his share diminishing.

Polium seemed to consider the upfront offer. “It seems like dangerous work… but adventuring is a dangerous career. I accept.”

“Fantastic.” Casimir said with a smile. “Now, can you find what we need right now, or do we need to track down another spirit?” Shamans were widely considered to be the best diviners, because unlike literally any other kind of spirit mage, they could productively exploit the fact that many spirits had very good mental maps of their home terrains. Contract a local one for navigational work, and you could find places that even seasoned rangers have no idea exist.

“It is as you suspect. We must commune with local spirits.” Polium replied. “Let us go.” He trilled a hidden whistle to his spirit companions. “Try to keep up.”

The mud spirit croaked, tensing its entire body before launching itself towards the Flowstone Mountains. With a single glance between them, David and Casimir leapt after him, following their exact arc before moving closer to the ground once the first leap was complete.

“So do you think this guy can handle Luci and Magnus?” Casimir asked David. He wasn’t entirely sure, but the power of his mud spirit did seem promising.

“It’s fine.” David said dismissively. “Even if he can’t, all he needs to do is point the way. He’s strong enough to be a distraction, at least.”

“Good point.” Casimir conceded. “That mud spirit could make Magnus’ unlife really difficult.”

They probably should have mentioned the possibility of fighting a dragon, though…

----------------

They found Polium in the middle of a spirit beckoning ceremony. One of the big things that separated weak spirit mages and proper shamans was the ability to beckon spirits to them. Shamanic cabals were generally very secretive about their beckoning ceremonies, but enough academics have written books on the subject that the rough process is pretty well understood.

First, you identified what kind of spirit you wished to beckon. The more specific, the better.

Second, you provided an offering of power to the spirit. The size of your offering determines how powerful a spirit will show up, and as the offering itself was payment, most spirits would be willing to do a small favor or two without any further compensation.

Third, you actually called out to the spirit. This was the longest part of any spirit beckoning, and you could be at it for hours before any deign to show up, or there could be no spirits that fit your description and you waste however much time and effort you put into it.

Polium was speaking in a shrill, screechy language that Casimir didn’t know, although given how it sounded, it was some kind of aviost tongue. Then… he set the muddy hill on fire.

“What is wrong with you?” Casimir exclaimed as he leapt up to a force barrier that David erected after leaping up himself.

The shaman ignored both of them as they gestured, stoking the flames by throwing what appeared to be potions into the conflagration. The fire grew larger and larger as Polium screeched. If there was any hope that they could beckon a spirit without getting noticed by Petranis and whatever else she had waiting here, it was gone now.

Once the flame encompassed three of the muddy hills, it suddenly started gathering in the sky. The flames completely separated from the ground, leaving ordinary flammable mud in its wake. After about a minute, the fire had condensed into a single point, which exploded into the form of a spirit. It was large and made of fire, of course, but its shape conformed to that of a boar with massive tusks, so large that you could stick a barrel on its nose and the tusks would hold it in place.

“I welcome you, Karn of the wildfires!” Polium shouted in a language Casimir did understand. It was a spirit tongue that was understood by the spirits in the Depths, although he wasn’t entirely clear why some spirits spoke that language and other spirits spoke one of four other options. Geography was clearly not the only criteria. “We seek your wisdom, learned from countless cycles of destruction and renewal!”

The spirit responded, a voice that was backed by the roar of burning hot winds, the stench of ash accompanying the words. “You have properly invoked the ancient compacts, and you have been properly respectful.” It replied, acknowledging that the experienced shaman knew how to suck up to the spirits. “Speak your questions, petitioner!” It demanded.

The tension in Polium’s entreaty was gone, as the shaman relaxed into the muddy throne his mud spirit was carrying on its back. “Within the last week, a Lich’s spirit had retreated to somewhere within your domain.” Polium gestured to David and Casimir. “My allies here are hunting this wretched existence, and we seek aid in locating the undead’s core.”

Karn smoldered at the request. “...You act in opposition to forces that are the enemy of all who draw breath in this world.” It acknowledged. “We will contract with you, shaman, in the name of destroying this blight to existence.” One thing that any adventurer knows is that spirits hate monsters. As such, shamans who were adventurers generally had a relatively easy time getting at least temporary contracts from spirits if the local area had a monster problem. Things as powerful as liches constituted a problem all its own. Getting permanent contracts, on the other hand… much more difficult.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Casimir turned to David as Polium started haggling in earnest with the wildfire spirit. “You sure this guy’s just elite?” He asked. “That’s a pretty powerful spirit he just summoned.”

David hummed. “You know as well as I do that rank isn’t everything.” He said, waiting for a beat before continuing. “...He seemed too prepared. I think that spirit was the main reason he was in the area in the first place.”

“Yeah, that fits.” Casimir said. “If he could get a good spirit like that to bolster his strength, he might be able to break into heroic rank.” Wait. “...He seems kind of old to be worrying about that, though.” Casimir added.

David snorted. “You remember that powerful spirits can extend your lifespan, right?”

Eh… “I’ve never seen anyone who could substantiate those legends.” Casimir said dismissively. “You know how crazy stories about powerful mages can get. Shamans just get more of it than most.” Advanced mana cultivation did make one age more slowly, but you needed to have developed it at a young age to get the really impressive lifespan numbers.

“It looks like they’re done.” David observed, hopping off of the force platform. Seeing as how the wildfire spirit was nowhere to be found, that checked out.

Casimir just dropped as David dismissed his spell, using a quick burst of flight to land right next to their new teammate. “We’re done here?” Casimir asked.

The aged Aviost leapt off of the mud spirit’s back, landing on his talons without a care as he flexed his arms. His black feathers were shiny and lustrous, both eyes burned with energy, and his movements had the vigor of youth. “Yes, Karn of the wildfires has joined his strength to our own. Follow me!” He gestured to his spirit companions, and they each compacted themselves into something Polium could carry: The mud spirit became a belt with an elaborate bow-thing in the back, which the pond spirit clung onto without changing shape. The vine spirit became a scarf that was much smaller than their actual body.

With a burst of flame ejecting from his feet, Polium started to leap from hill to hill, somehow not setting everything ablaze as he went. “Spirit magic…” Casimir muttered ruefully to himself as he followed the rejuvenated Aviost.

Things are starting to look up.

----------------

After about twenty minutes of jumping among the muddy hills, Polium stopped on some large stone pillar that had absolutely no business being in the middle of this terrain. “This is one of the few stable landmarks in this land.” The shaman explained. “Long ago, a castle was in the skies above this place, and a great battle occurred between the forces of that castle and the Wind-Commanding Dragon. The ruins of the fallen castle have long sunk into the muck, but this single support column, around which the entire castle was built, landed point first and embedded itself within the bedrock, remaining standing tall to this day.”

Casimir nodded, intrigued at the story. David, on the other hand… “Yeah that’s nice. What does this have to do with Petranis?”

“Patience, chickling.” The bird-man said scoldingly. “This part of the Flowstone Mountains contains many underground chambers, as the legendary enchantments were so grand, the castle has been slowly re-assembling itself within the mud over the centuries. Karn says that he sensed a disturbance in this area around the time you claimed your lich died.” He turned towards a nondescript patch of black mud. “This would be the first place to look.”

Well, that sounded grand. “Let’s go, then.” Flying castles used to be popular grand projects about two thousand years ago, but then they all ended up getting destroyed for one reason or another. It was far from the first time he’s heard a similar story… although the re-assembling part was new. It did explain why some of those other ruins were in such good condition...

“Siza, descend!” He commanded, and his mana surged into the aspect mix of his mud spirit, which seized control over the black mud and created a pit of nothingness in the middle of the muddy ground. “The entrance is here. Come with me.”

“Now we’re talking!” Casimir said with a savage grin as he jumped down into the pit. The bottom of it was a stone door, and a pulse of mana revealed the mechanism. Casimir gripped the handle, twisted the section, then pulled it open. David and Polium entered the door, and Casimir closed it behind them.

“Let’s move!” Casimir said with conviction as he started to attune his senses. The castle’s hallways were thick with mana, appropriate for the enchantments this place supposedly had. But if he tuned out the enchantments, the mud, and his teammates… All that’s left is the shit he needs to know about.

Nothing, nothing… there! “I got something.” He said as he turned a corner; his teammates silently followed his lead now that they were back in his comfort zone. “...a lot of somethings.” He added as he kicked open another, less locked door.

“Monsters!” David announced as his mana surged in readiness.

“Of course there are monsters!” Casimir shouted as he started channeling mana into his curses. “It’s a Dungeon!”

“Pirie! Loam!” Polium announced, the vine and pond spirits readying themselves as well. “Protect us!” He added.

The room appeared to be some kind of ballroom: large, mostly empty, and somehow intact despite the mud visible through the many windows. Within was a motley collection of monsters: dozens of gargoyles, the stone birds already preparing to take off into the sky to start dive bombing the adventurers, somewhat over a dozen Armaxes, chitinous monsters that resembled armored knights with mantis claws, on top of what was frankly the largest minotaur that Casimir had ever seen.

Unlike most humanoid monsters, minotaurs were solitary beasts that did not speak, merely hunting down adventurers with their fantastic senses and cruel cunning. They were normally only a veteran-ranked threat, but between this one’s size and what was no doubt an artifact spear in its hands… It was probably a much more even fight than Casimir would like to admit.

“Stand back!” Polium said as his hands burst into flame. Intuiting his intentions, David and Casimir remained at the shaman’s side as he summoned a fraction of the massive presence of that wildfire spirit. “Cataclysm!” He announced as he released a huge tornado of flame at the gathered monsters. Loam the pond spirit created a thin barrier of water, which boiled but did successfully shield the group from the oppressive heat of the spell.

“Thank you, Loam.” Casimir said, just to be polite. Casimir could handle even this level of collateral heat without trouble, but it was quite considerate of Polium to think about his teammates before unleashing that level of magic. “We got it from here, Polium. Save your mana.”

Indeed, Polium’s fire magic had halved the number of armaxes, and killed two-thirds of the gargoyles. David leapt into the sky, engaging the gargoyles without a shred of concern for their diminished numbers.

“Yes…” Whispered Polium. “This is the power of Karn… It’s exquisite.” Yeah… that’s not concerning at all… nope.

The minotaur had escaped the flames without too much trouble. Casimir suspected that the artifact he was wielding was responsible for that. Hopefully, it only could protect it from physical dangers, but that’s something Casimir’s going to have to find out.

Casimir ran towards the Minotaur’s group, slipping through the wild swings of the armaxes as he drew his stiletto. “Come on ugly! Let me show you why they call me…” Casimir leapt to avoid the spear thrust of the massive minotaur. “THE LAST GASP!” He shouted as he drove his stiletto straight into the throat of the massive beast.

For the first time in too long, Casimir started his signature sequence of curses. He managed to lay three choking curses on the beast before the minotaur grabbed him by the leg and threw Casimir off.

The minotaur hacked and coughed, removing Casimir’s stiletto before negligently tossing it aside. After a beat, Casimir managed to heal the minor fracture in his leg and shoulders and the minotaur, breathing heavily and laboriously, started to approach Casimir once more to attack.

The Armaxes had decided to go after Polium, so…”It’s just you and me, ugly.” Casimir taunted. “Come and get me.”

He missed this.