Whispers began to circulate among those in the lobby. From what Red could gather, the woman with the oversized hat went by the name of “Joker.”

Upon seeing Joker, the onlookers grew wary, and some outright left the lobby with looks of contempt. It was evident to Red that this mage had a reputation. As she stumbled and ran into him, the blind woman squeaked in pain, feeling as if she had collided with a wall.

Rubbing her aching nose, Joker muttered, "Ouch," before quickly recovering and saying with enthusiasm, "Do my eyes deceive me? Is this the new recruit?" Her hand flitted up and down Red's chest and abdomen, feeling every muscle individually. "My, what a strong man you are," she continued, becoming silent as her hand continued to roam over Red's body. "So strong..." she murmured to herself, a grin forming on her face, and her mouth beginning to water.

After a moment, Red had to back off and said warily, “I’m Red. It is, um, good to meet.”

“Don’t be so distant to your guild mates,” Joker chided with a pout and glided back up to him to feel around his face with her hand. “Don’t mind me, I’m only checking if you’re handsome or not.” She suddenly let out a squeal of joy sensing how his face looked, “Jackpot!”

Rose, and much of the lobby, watched the interaction. She felt her brow scrunch up seeing Joker, a mage who was also known as the Blind Witch. Joker was one of the four members of the Royal Suit, a Hunter group famous for killing monsters that threatened whole cities. Despite their feats, two of the four Royal Suit members had infamously odd personalities, one of which was the Blind Witch, a woman from a fallen noble line who shamed the other nobles with how she behaved.

Some speculated that Joker's attitude was fueled by resentment towards the other nobles, who had mistreated her family after their fall from grace. Others attributed it to her special trait, known as "Mana All-Sense," which some claimed had been bestowed upon her by a trapped deity in an ancient ruin. Such a trait had given her the ability to accurately sense everything around her, even the quality of the air. Despite being blind, Joker had no need for assistance, as she possessed Mana All-Sense allowing her to "see" or sense things better than most people. She could even sense objects behind barriers, making her a formidable opponent in battle.

“Did you happen to say your name was Red?” Joker suddenly asked, wiping her mouth. Red nodded and became surprised to see she acknowledge his silent answer given her blindness. “Do you happen to know a dwarf by the name of Dwittle? Or was it Diddle?”

“Dwindle?” Red asked, surprised someone here knew his dwarf manager.

“Ah, yes. That’s the one. Good ole Diddlywinks and what not. He searched high and low for you, he did.”

Red smiled to himself hearing her. He was glad he chose to return from the Vitelwood instead of going to the Badlands. His friends must’ve been worried sick. Now he would pay them back by finding Poly.

Two smooth hands began to pinch his cheeks. “If I knew you were this good looking,” Joker cooed, “I would’ve stopped at nothing to find you!” Red had to retreat another step from yet another of her strange antics. Joker then put a hand forward in the wrong direction. “I am Joker. A pleasure to meet you.” Red stepped to the side in order to shake her hand correctly while trying to keep his distance as best he could.

“Who is this woman?” a voice asked.

Red saw that Nasset had joined them. Before he could introduce her, Joker stepped up to her and began to touch Nasset’s toned muscles the same as she had done with Red.

The Blind Witch began with excitement, “What luck! Yet another strong man…” Her voice faltered feeling a squishy chest. “That’s not right…” she murmured. Joker continued to inquisitively squeeze the area until Nasset kicked her away.

“Damned heathen,” Nasset growled, flushed. “Father told me of such jewel city perverts.”

Having fallen on the floor, Joker cried out, “Red, help me! I’m too blind to get up!”

Red didn’t understand how her eyesight affected her legs, but he nonetheless helped her up and that’s when she hopped into his arms. “I hurt myself, Red,” she pouted. “Carry me.” Red’s face grew weary. This mage’s personality was difficult to keep up with.

“I’m not sure if you’re in jest,” Red admitted. “But I have business of my own I need completed…”

“Is this about raiding that white worm gang hideout I heard you talking about earlier? Well, you can count me in!” Red didn’t know what to say. Before he could say anything, she began to feel around his shoulders then his face. “No need to thank me,” she said, seeming as if she were enjoying herself.

“Pervert…” Nasset muttered.

“Do you know others who would join us?” Red asked Joker, hopeful.

The blind mage answered with a matter-of-fact tone, “No, the City Lord has banned all of us from accepting quests within the city’s walls. They say he is waiting for a Hunter to break the prohibition in order to shackle more laws onto our guild to limit us further.” She then smiled mischievously, “We’re going to have to be very sneaky attacking the white worms’ business.”

Red sighed, watching as the woman began wriggling in his arms as if she were getting comfy on a lounge chair. He could not keep up with her, but he was glad they at least had her help. Red only gave a few tries more to recruit others only to fail. Taking what he could get, being only Joker, he went outside to wait until Rose rejoined them. When Rose emerged from the guild, she had exchanged her silver armor with armor made of steel that did not exude an aura. Her face was completely hidden behind a helmet.

“You look different,” Red commented, seeing Rose appear with the look of a generic knight.

“I can’t let people see me,” Rose sighed. “My family is too strict sometimes. But that’s beside the point. Let us go now and save your friend, Red.” Her blue eyes fell to the mage next to him.

“Rose Verdinant,” Joker smiled, sensing Rose focus on her, “I thought you looked familiar.” Her blind white eyes were open but were looking off into the distance.

“It is an honor to meet the Blind Witch of the Royal Suit,” Rose said respectfully. They had never run in the same social circles, her and Joker, and they had different Hunter rankings. Also, Rose found Joker’s “jokes” a bit too crass to be around.

“I didn’t take you for one who would break the law, princess,” Joker stated, prompting a snorting laugh from Nasset. They were bound to illegally raid an established business of the city. Seeing Rose Verdinant with them, Joker was more than surprised.

“I resent being called ‘princess’, Miss Joker. And I am simply helping a new member of my team.”

“Watch this one,” Joker warned Red. “Some powerful entities swim around her, dangerous ones. She might not mean to, but those powers may lead to your undoing.”

Rose became disgruntled but couldn’t speak before Red replied, “Rose is a friend and my new party leader. I’m with her now for better or for worse.”

Rose stared at Red for a long moment. She hadn’t heard such words from anyone yet, and didn’t know she needed to until now. Her whole life everyone has only ever spoken about her status and how important she was. Red was her first real team member and she graded him highly after hearing him.

“Who’s that?” Polopp asked, pointing at Rose’s carriage parked nearby.

They looked to see a young woman leaning against Rose’s carriage. The young woman wore simple clothing, yet even with their simple design, they still accentuated her curves. Her skin was tan and her eyes were a strange golden color. At her hip hung a sword with a jewel encrusted hilt. What struck out the most about her was that her face held a bored expression, as if she had done everything possible in this world and had run out of things to do.

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Darkness clung to every corner and no light could be seen. Down and down a flight of stairs he went without the ability to see what was in front of him, and still he did not slow his pace. No sound could be heard, not even his footsteps, as if the darkness that flooded this place was impenetrable by both light and sound. The absence of light proved beneficial for him as it mitigated the stinging sensation of his burns caused by holy magic.

He didn’t know how long he went but when he came to the bottom of the stairs, he was confronted by a door. A croaking voice from beyond it spoke, “Who dares come to the Sacred Absence without invitation?”

"My name is Vizini Sawn. I hail from the mid-eastern regions and practice the art of necromancy. I seek refuge from the light."

“I’ve never heard of you, brat,” the voice spat, hearing Zini’s young voice. “This isn’t a nursery, boy. The gall of you to come here. I have half a mind to turn you into a thrall and hang you by hooks from the ceiling where you will stay for all of eternity.”

Zini held up his hand and produced dark magic which grew as flames around his hand before forming into a symbol of an ancient hieroglyph.

The voice sputtered, “The Darselum signet!? B-but that kind of necromancy is no longer around. These are tricks, they must be!” Most necromancy had a symbol of their magic inlaid into its foundations that couldn’t be reproduced or faked in front of another practitioner of dark magic. Like all things, the very nature of an individual’s necromancy had a history.

The door swung open and a man with a hunchback, a misshapen face covered in warts, and gangly teeth protruding out of his mouth, limped out hurriedly while carrying a sage symbol lantern that shone with dark light.

The light was violet and it shined on Zini’s pale face as the hunchback man examined him. “Speak, boy! Tell me where you found such old magic? Whose dark line do you follow? Who is the master who taught you your dark arts?” He wanted to know if there were others capable of the same old magic. If there were, it would upturn the world of dark arts.

“I am my own master. I found the Darselum signet in the ruins of the Magitarius,” Zini answered, his expression blank, though behind his eyes there was aching. The irony of being a necromancer from a dead place was not lost on him.

“Ancient school that is,” the hunchback commented. “I heard it was blown up by its own students who tried to bring back his highness, King Lighteater.”

Zini would’ve scoffed if he wasn’t in an unknown place and not wanting to arouse the wrath of anyone. But clearly the man before him didn’t know history well. Zini would know what happened to the Magitarius since he was once a part of the school. He was also there when it blew up.

“I am Azter,” the hunchback said, drool dangling from his lips that couldn’t close due to his teeth. “I am gatekeeper here in the Sacred Absence. Please, come in.” He attempted a smile that brought about more drool to stream down his chin. “It is an honor to have such a young and talented necromancer visiting the Sacred Absence.”

He then guided Zini down a narrow stone bridge where only darkness could be seen below it. They traveled for a few minutes before arriving at a rocky outcrop that grew to form a jagged wall. There seemed to be nowhere to go beyond it.

Azter drew a sage symbol in the air in violet light. A similar symbol then appeared on the wall and the wall began to dissolve as if made of dreams. It reduced to dust that floated away, revealing a city filled with buildings of dark stone, flooded with violet light. Sage symbol carriages drove down streets, pulled by creatures belonging in nightmares, some pulled by zombies or skeletons.

“Welcome to the Dark Jewel city,” Azter said, making some kind of joke he thought was funny, “Escorna, the city of the damned!”

Zini couldn’t hide his shock. Escorna was as large as any district above. How had he never heard of this place? He could only guess that because he relied on books mostly to learn, not communicating with other dark magic users had kept him away from certain knowledge.

He stared up but couldn’t see a ceiling. He couldn’t guess as to how far below the city he had traveled, though it felt like only a few minutes’ worth of traveling. When he first entered The Hole, he had followed traces of dark magic until he found a building with runes of a time past. Necromancers often used ancient writing to communicate, each of them a historian in their own right in regards to their preferred period in time they studied. He then found a stone staircase that led downward until he came here.

“It’s a marvel,” Zini stated, looking over the city bathed in violet light.

“Truly it is,” Azter said, and turned to walk away. “I will return to my post now. I’m sure with your abilities, you won’t have trouble in this place.”

Zini began to move toward the city as he admired its structures. Everything seemed to be built similarly to the upper districts with buildings built high and streets wide enough for carriages the size of houses to move on. It was like a Soalde district had sunk underground.

As he traveled along one of the wide roads, almost there to the city of Escorna, a voice shouted at him. He looked up and saw a black sage symbol carriage speeding toward him. The driver was shouting at him to get out of the way. Zini moved off the road to let it pass. As he watched the carriage, he noticed through one of its windows several captives with hands clasped in iron chains and horror stricken faces.

One of the faces Zini could make out was familiar. There was a man who seemed middle aged that was squinting as if he needed glasses.

Isn’t that one of Red’s companions? Zini thought. Wasn’t his name Euness?

Dwindle slapped his face with both hands, attempting to get his blood flowing and his mind ready. He stood in front of a two story building with a sign reading, “Gorune Gadgets and Gizmos”. The name “Gorune” was the dwarven tribe he and his family came from. They didn’t have much of a name back in their lands but they made their presence known here in Soalde.

Every one of his cousins here had made a name for themselves. The only one out of their family that didn’t stand out was him.

He heaved out a heavy breath and went through the door.

Hammering metal was what he was met with first. He saw a sizable shop with tall shelves filled with contraptions. Some seemed to be made for the convenience of home life while others seemed more suited for breaking things. Tables were arranged over a wooden floor that was also filled with contraptions, with a few tables dedicated to hand tools. A wave of nostalgia wafted over him as he saw everything was as it was when he left this place.

“Well, twist my head into a screw,” a gruff voice said.

Dwindle looked to the end of the shop and saw a dwarf cousin of his. “Lorbrite, it is good to see you, cousin,” he greeted, walking up to a red haired dwarf standing behind a counter, wearing a leather smock and covered in soot.

Lorbrite clasped hands in greeting with Dwindle and guffawed, “Your lack of beard still gets me going, Dwindle!”

Dwindle rolled his round eyes and responded, “Beards are for dwarves still a part of dwarven life, which I am not.” He had chopped off his beard the moment he put down the hammer and picked up a Hunter’s badge. Cutting off his beard was for respect to the life he once lived.

“You look like a babe!” his cousin teased, rubbing his own full red beard.

“That’s enough,” Dwindle chided, “I need help again. A friend has gone missing.”

“We know, cousin. Red, was it? We haven’t received word from any of the Gorune in other cities about him.”

“No, Red has returned, thankfully. My elf friend I told you about. She’s been taken this time.”

“Hammer and wrench,” Lobrite said with exasperation, “keep better track of your friends, Dwindle.” Though he was only teasing, Dwindle did not find it humorous. Seeing his cousin’s seriousness, Lorbrite coughed awkwardly and said, “Well, you came in time. Glick happens to be in today.”

Dwindle hesitated and let out a cough of his own. He did not want to run into his eldest cousin today. “Perhaps you can just pass on the word…”

“Dwindle,” a voice spoke from an open door.

Dwindle and Lorbrite looked up to see their eldest cousin, Glick, with his black and gray beard and strong features of a low jaw line, thick neck and rounded brow. Wiping his stained hands on his smock, Glick said with reproach, “Do you only ever come to family when you need something?”

Here we go, Dwindle thought.

“I’ve been preoccupied, as you know,” Dwindle explained, “trying to keep my friends from disappearing.”

“You always have an excuse, Dwindle,” Glick grunted. “Only when your back is against the wall do you ever talk to us, your family.”

Lorbrite’s eyes gleamed as he looked from one cousin to the next, anticipating with excitement what seemed to be an argument brewing. Dwarves loved arguments. Dwarf debates were a pastime in their culture and there was even a sport where one person would be hit in the head by a club if they were found lying, being misinformed or pandering to the crowd watching. Insults however, weren’t against the rules and often spiced things up.

“I’ve been trying to make my own way without relying on you all,” Dwindle responded to his eldest cousin.

“You live in the slums, Dwindle. You’re doing what you’ve always done. You’re acting out,” Glick dismissed with a wave. “It always has to be something special with you. You’ve made your point. Come home.”

“Well, it’s always so simple for you, isn’t it? If it isn’t in your calculations, Glick, you think it is not worth considering, even when it has to do with a dream and wanting something more.”

“There you go, thinking ‘special’ things again. So what no one wanted your inventions or wanted you to repair their things? You still had a good job here dismantling and you threw it all away to go be your own dwarf.” Glick got face to face with Dwindle. “Well, I’ve got news for you: no dwarf is his own dwarf. We stick with family. That is the dwarven way and the way of the Gorune.”

“You don’t know how it is to dream,” Dwindle accused, pointing a stubby finger at Glick’s chest. “You and your history of success and being an elite arcane smith has granted you a place above others. What you do isn’t trying to keep the family together. What you actually want is to keep everyone under you in order for us to praise you for all that you’ve done. You want sycophants, not family!”

Glick’s round cheeks reddened as his face contorted with indignant fury. He hated being misrepresented. In contrast to him, Lorbrite’s eyes shimmered as a bright smile grew on his red bearded face. This argument was going to be a good one.