The next day, early in the morning, Brandt went into the woods and after finding a little stream he followed its route to a small waterfall with a sizable pond beneath. He undressed and dived into it to do as he promised himself, to refresh as well as possible. The water was, as was to be expected at this time of the year, almost icy cold. Despite this, scrubbing off days of sweat and grime felt good. So much so, he intentionally remained in the water longer than necessary and dreaded the need to dress back.

The last time he had a chance to take a bath was back in Katzburg. Ever since they were on the run he merely cycled through the few pieces of underwear he had. To keep at least a semblance of being cultured. Which worked to quell his judgmental self, but didn’t go as far as his appearance or body odor were concerned. Both of which could be seen in the state of his clothing.

His tailor-made breeches and jacket, almost new when they left Sheridawn, were both in a pretty sorry state, all crinkled, crimped, and muddy. Irregular patches of rough leather developed below the armpits, at the elbows, on the inner thighs, and almost everywhere else where the material met friction, be it because of horse riding, dirt, or bad weather. It was a testament to the quality of the apparel that it didn’t fall apart.

When it came to the shirt or just about any other undergarments… As he was browsing through them, he was debating whether to try to wash them at least a little. All of these were in varying levels of ‘terrifying’. They smelled horribly, and were caked in dust, grime, sweat and… it was best not to think what else. Except there wasn’t a way to deal with any of it. Reluctantly, he dressed himself and marched back to the compound, cursing the

It was nearing noon when he returned to the Dlooa proper. When he emerged from the woods, he noticed that the wildmen were busy building what he could, at a distance, judge as a burial pyre. Among the working ones were also the two Maargardian captives. He briefly considered whether to join in and help, but decided against it. He preferred to just … do nothing. Maybe climbing onto one of the roofs and tinkering with those weird ‘mirror-on-stick’ things was an option?

Did it matter?

The last few weeks were a Feot of time. One that he hasn’t been in his recent memories and this sudden lack of urgency dulled his usual focused drive towards … all of which needed to be done. It was a warm, pleasant day at the end of blommer. The woods were brimming with life, birds were chirping, trees were rustling, and a delicate breeze was coming from… north, or maybe a little northeast. Brandt caressed the stubby beard that had taken residence on his face ever since they fled Katzburg. He took a long gaze at the working wildmen.

He sighed. Despite an early candle, felt very, very tired. He chose what seemed like a cozy spot below a tree and took a nap.

Brandt woke up a couple of candles later, in the late afternoon and the main reason for this was hunger. He stood up and stretched a little. The tree wasn’t a comfortable bed by any metric, thus he felt a little rough. It was also getting a little cold, although just a little. He headed towards the compound to search for food.

Not a triskol later, he entered the central place and found it in the same state as he left it in the morning. The makeshift lazaret was still there with all of its five patients. The precursor machinery was still where he left it. The prisoner cage was missing the two Maargardians, although probably because the other captives were wounded, and thus unable to work in a meaningful capacity. Guarding them was no one else but Olaff. The wildman waved and grinned like a fool at Brandt as a greeting then returned to carving a piece of wood.

Near the fireplace, the scarred cook set up his shop. Two deer were roasting over the lazily burning fire, and on a treated skin below laid pieces of already cooked meat, along with piles of, presumably, herbs, and some knives of varying size. Gustaf? Was his name Gustaf? He was not around.

Apart from Olaff, a few other wildmen were doing various things, like chopping wood or, presumably, repairing and maintaining things. Of people who Brandt already recognized, he found the Nord-looking one somewhat to the side of the camp. That one sat on a deer fur and was sharpening a sizable collection of swords spread over another deer fur before him. He seemed to be two-thirds through his job and considering how angrily he was doing it, he wasn’t enjoying any of it.

Brandt found Gustaf on the camp’s outskirts. He and two other men were chatting solemnly about something. Considering it was near the chest-high pyre upon which two bodies wrapped in linen were laid, it seemed justified and Brandt felt a ping of guilt for wanting to interrupt them. At the same time, he was looking for the cook for a reason. One that he was consistently reminded of by the rumblings from his stomach.

-”Iten?” - Brandt asked after he approached Gustaf and his companions after exchanging awkward smiles as welcoming pleasantries. The cook nodded and gestured to follow him. They returned to the fireplace, where Brandt was given a roasted and seasoned rabbit’s leg and a few strips of what could only be described as bacon. All wrapped in a thin sheet of leather. How did the wildmen get ‘bacon’ here, and what animal it came from perplexed Nord for a bit, but he thanked the cook and went out to find a place to eat in peace. After a brief search, he settled for a spot behind the cabinet Trawins had picked through the day before. He sat on the ground, propped himself over the device, and began devouring his meal.

Strettar approached him when he was about halfway through.

-”Mizter Zerzter. I’m glad I found you! Do you know where Mister Trawinz iz?”

Brandt hastily finished a bite of the rabbit drum. He gazed upon the elder without standing up.

-” I have not the faintest idea” - he said when he finally swallowed - “He is probably rummaging through. This is a carnival for him. What is the problem?”

-” One of our wounded needz mizter Trawinz’ help.”

Brandt stood up.

-” We’ll need to search for him. I’m sure he is somewhere around, digging through things.” - he looked around, trying to discern which of the nigh identical grey buildings to start with. He had chosen one randomly - “I’ll start with this one, with these horizontal slats as a gate. ”

-” We would appreciate that.”

-” Once I find him, I will send him your way.” - said Brandt. Then set off toward the chosen structure, while still nibbling his food, without paying further attention to the old man.

The slatted front gate, from the looks of it, seemed to be unmovable, although there were signs of it being opened in recent times. There was no overgrowth or corrosion. But there also wasn’t any sort of a handle and the slats were quite substantial.

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-” If Trawins is inside of this one, he didn’t get there through here” - he mused - “so unless he flew through the roof… there must be a door somewhere…” - Brandt paused for a split drip - “...or a hole in a wall.”

He went around the building, and not far off, he found a half-open and weirdly oversized door on the side of the building. The doors seemed hoomin-sized but were slightly oversized, as if they were for persons standing at least two meters tall. Their location didn’t justify this size for logistical or representative reasons. After pondering this a moment, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to be met with darkness.

-” Trawins! Anh! Are you here by any chance” - he shouted into the void. There came no answer other than an echo, despite his waiting for it for quite a few moments.

He stepped into the dark abyss and was suddenly bathed in a blue-tinted glow that emanated from an uncomfortably bright point on the ceiling. It was oddly similar to the lumehex, although its having a discernable source was odd. He turned his attention to where he found himself. It was a room three mers in width and, from the looks of it, seven in depth. It also was at least two and a half in height. A door similar to the one he entered through was in front of him and on the left of these was a dimly lit staircase. The walls were oddly grey and flaking and there didn’t seem to be anything left after any decorum, provided there ever was any. The polished, grey, uniform floor was surprisingly clean. Someone must have swept it not long ago, weeks at most, and certainly not a millennium.

-” Since these are closed, he must have floated upstairs.” - Brandt mumbled to himself and entered the stairs. As he did so, the dim glow brightened substantially, and immediately the light in the lobby behind him dimmed - “Weird and kind of spooky” - he said into the air -” but also quite nice to watch”.

He climbed the stairs to the first floor. Before him was a corridor which, as he had gotten closer to it, was lit by the same dim glow he had seen so far.

-” Well, that’s quite inviting” - he said, and headed into the corridor. Just like it happened when he went into the stairs, those dimmed and the corridor suddenly became flooded with the same glow from bright points on the ceiling.

The corridor was unlike any other he had ever seen. On both sides were large windows and a door leading to what could only be an office. The windows were glassed with an enormous panel, which in turn framed with a dark grey… thing. The doors were made entirely out of glass as well. In each room, there was a desk and chair, both unlike he had ever seen. The chairs especially, were propped on a slender single ‘leg’ rooted in a five-pronged spider form with tiny wheels. Each piece was heavily deteriorated, but polished, and quite clean. There were no documents, files, or other furniture in any of the rooms he passed.

-” Trawins! Anh! Are you anywhere here?” - he shouted into the corridor.

There was no immediate answer, but eventually, the tanai responded.

-” Mister Zerster! Come here! You need to see this!”

Intrigued, Brandt hastened his steps. The corridor turned to the left, revealing a row of offices on its right side a wall with windows on the left, and a brightly lit room at the end of it. As he progressed sections of this corridor before him were first lit by a dim glow and then, as he was getting closer, flooded with a bright bluish light. Subsequently, behind him, the lights first dimmed, then entirely turned dark.

In the end, the corridor widened and terminated with two wing glass doors leading into a room with an elongated table sideways to the doors. There were several of these weird, one-legged chairs inside. On the table lay a row of pamphlets in very thin, black, and opaque covers. Anh was floating cross-legged above the table, with two of those floating before him. Both were opened and he must have been reading them.

-” How long?” - said the tanai when Brandt entered the room. He didn’t seem it fitting to interrupt his studies.

-” How long… what?” - replied confused hoomin.

-” How long were you looking for me?” - Anh didn’t take his attention away from the books he was studying

-” In all honesty, I just started. Strettar is looking for you. Some wildmen need your attention.”

-” What I’m doing here is more important.”

- ”I’m sure it is. But you’ll have more time to indulge in it. Unlike those men down there.”

-” I understand.” - replied Anh after a short pause. He floated off towards the hoomin and when he was, he gestured towards the table - “ These books here. You have seen them before.”

Brandt headed towards the door and not a moment later, both men were back in the corridor. The tanai was first, with two of the books in tow, and Brandt right after him.

-” Really? Have I?”

- ”They are the same manual I translated for you in Sheridawn.”

Brandt stopped, awestruck, then quickly grabbed one of the tomes. It was maybe fifty or so pages thick. The covers were made out of material he could not name. His immediate impression was that it was very similar to the touch to the base material of the board he held earlier in the morning. He turned the cover and froze.”

-” Model DL Nanoforge Maintenance Operator’s Manual. Edition 173. Site OOA” - he read and subsequently slowly raised his head to meet the expressionless gaze of his employee - “but this is printed is in Cammona.”

-” It is. In the room over there” - the tanai tilted his head towards the place they just left -” are versions in just about every language or dialect I know of. With a few I don’t as well.”

-” But… this looks like it was recently printed.” - Brandt flipped through the pages of the document - “And what is with those redactions” - he pointed, curiously, at black bars at the bottom and top of a random page somewhere at the middle of the book.

-” I skimmed through both. Kherrid version I have here…” - the tanai wiggled his eyebrows in the direction of the second floating copy - “...and the Cammona you are holding. From that… well, and judging from what we already know. This place was a fabrication facility and these were printed here not long ago for a reason I can only hypothesize about.”

-” Well, you have a lead in reading this. What is it?”

-” It is called Dee-El Oh-Oh-A. Deel Oooa alternatively, Dee, El, Zero, Zero, A.”

-” Dlooa. Yes. It glimpsed at it on the title page.”

-” It was making, birthing these critters the ordos murdered out. For what purpose it was making them, I don’t know, obviously. But the facility can fabricate much more.” - tanai gestured towards the books - “like these books.”

-” Speaking of which.” - mused Brandt, unfazed by Trawin’s revelations - “What do you think it was under these redacted parts?”

Anh shrugged.

-” The entire booklet is anonymized. No insignia of its authors, no original printing house or editors. Nothing. I think it is safe to assume that whoever authored this, doesn’t want ‘us’, the readers, to know who they are.”

-” So, who are ‘they’”

Tanai didn’t respond, instead, he returned to the trek towards the outside. Nord followed closely.

-” In conjunction with what we already know”- tanai spoke after a moment -” from the testimony of Strettar. I think…”- he paused again -“...excuse me if this sounds far-fetching, but I think this machinarium… This is a vessel of or a temple to one of Vhirs’ daemons.”

-” What do you mean?” - hoomin said, unsure how to respond.

-” Strettar said that he spoke to it, and it asked for help.”

-” Did he? I vaguely remember.”

-” I think so.” - Anh said with less conviction than a moment prior - “ I’ll ask once I find him. Regardless. The entity living here fabricated these booklets because it needed assistance. Something that it couldn’t do on its own.”

-” …and the Ordos killed it.”

-” Exactly.”

Brandt was just preparing to exit the building but before he stepped out, he stopped and spoke directly to Anh.

-” With these instructions. “ - he raised the booklet in his hand - “Do you think it’s possible to repair it?”