“You two Otyughs didn’t even come to my defense! Grubby little boy…! How rude!”

The gnome was setting a blistering pace through the wooded foothills just north of the Stonebreach as the trio put some distance between themselves and any potential pursuers from Chagrothlond. Comfortable with the terrain and fueled by her indignation, the druid effortlessly picked her way through the heavy brush skirting the eastern edge of Shardhelm – the southernmost peak of the Glimmerstones. Grym was doing his best to keep up as he pleaded their case.

“Come on Lulu. What did you expect us to do…give away our position outnumbered ten to two so we could correct them on your true anatomy? We would all have ended up in irons or worse.” Grym shook his head.

“That’s not the point!” The way her intonation rose on the last syllable made it clear he was not going to win this argument.

Glynfir, lagging his more vocal companions, had known the druid a long time and knew better than to even take up the discussion given her current state. Besides, he had several unresolved gripes of his own. The sorcerer was not fond of “outside”. It seemed every tree branch deliberately slapped him in the face as they picked their way north. One of his nice shoes was already soaked through and he had mud on his robes from three separate tumbles just in the last hour, not to mention the bugs! How could anyone prefer the wilderness to the civility of a nice cobblestone street or a warm hearth?

The group pressed on through the fading daylight of the late summer evening for another two hours before Lunish spied a small cave cut into the hillside that would suit their purposes for the night. Glynfir was less than impressed but did his part to make it more habitable, using most of his remaining reservoir of magic to clear the stone interior of the debris, scat, and small animal bones left by its previous occupants. He also raised an earthen barrier across the cave mouth to hide the visibility of their campfire. There was no way he was going to be cold and uncomfortable tonight.

Lunish put Grym to work gathering firewood and armloads of the high grasses from a nearby field while she strode off into the falling darkness in search of a meal still muttering under her breath.

Their group was flexible with leadership, allowing whoever was best acquainted with the circumstances to call the shots. In the cities and among larger groups of people, the sorcerer took the lead, and in all underground situations, they deferred to Grym’s dwarven heritage. But out here, in the wilds, no question who was boss. Lunish had given each of them instructions before departing and scrutinized their performance upon her return with a young turkey hen and replenished waterskins filled from a nearby spring.

“Well, I’ve seen worse” she stated matter-of-factly after surveying their temporary accommodations. Knowing this to be reasonably high praise, the dwarf and half-elf exchanged beaming smiles like a couple of small children who had successfully pleased a parent despite some lingering disappointment in their prior behavior. With a couple of minor adjustments to their original work, Lunish called upon her magic to ignite the fire, producing a small flame in the palm of her hand before flicking it into the constructed tinder pile. Soon the smell of roasting turkey filled the cave as the deep silence of the surrounding woodlands was only punctured by the crackle of the fire and the occasional sizzle of turkey juice on the hot coals.

Glynfir broke the silence.

“We should check in before we eat. Tell them what we found.” Reaching into his satchel he pulled out a smooth stone that had the profile of an open-mouthed face carved intricately into its surface. This was a sending stone and their primary means of communication with the Radiant Guardians. These magical items were made in pairs and delivered messages, constructed in thought, between the two parties that possessed them. Regardless of distance and even across planes of existence, the stones were effective with only a couple of limitations. Each stone could only deliver a single message each day, limited to twenty-five words or fewer, making linguistic efficiency critical.

“Do you know what you’re gonna say, laddie?... I don’t even know what we found!” Grym replied. They hadn’t discussed their mission’s outcome since escaping Chagrothlond. The conversation had been limited during the walk, and what little there was had been dominated by the slight on Lunish’s femininity and various forms of apologetic groveling.

“Well, we were asked to locate Duvall’s current will and testament and confirm if the beneficiary was someone other than his son. If so, they wanted the new name along with the solicitor that drafted it, and to confirm any strange symbols notated on the document…”

“I’m aware of the mission” Grym interrupted. “So?”

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“It named his new wife – Denora – to inherit all his land, wealth, and chattels”

“That’s unusual among humans, though not unheard of in recent times” Lunish noted in a curious tone.

“What about the rest?” prompted Grym.

“It was drafted by someone named Garret Ferrier”

“Also curious given we checked beforehand, and there are only two solicitors in Chagrothlond, and he wasn’t one of them” Lunish added.

Glynfir pursed his lips, raised his eyebrows, and nodded in silent confirmation.

“But there’s more…” he continued. Picking up a nearby stick he drew a line on the ground and placed a small circle underneath it. “Both of their names had this underneath the first letter.”

Grym rose and circled behind the others to peer over their shoulders at what Glynfir had scrawled into the dirt floor. He furrowed his brow.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“I have no idea” Glynfir shook his head. Lunish reached down to touch the symbol as if the connection might spark recollection somehow.

“I’ve never seen that before either. Was there a date on the document?”

“The eleventh of last month” Glynfir nodded.

The wizard began constructing the message he would deliver, playing with the words in his mind to ensure both clarity and conformity to the Sending Stone’s limitation.

“I hate that we never get the whole picture for the work we do.” Lunish idly remarked.

“Aye. That’s the job though, isn’t it?” Grym said dismissively. “We are the blunt instrument that gathers and relays, kept in the dark and then pointed at the next need. But you must admit the pay is damn good – one gold each per task. It makes me wonder how much The Hub charges for it on the other side.”

“I would bet a lot, and they probably sell it multiple times. These days, information is power!” Lunish speculated as she released her pile of long red hair from under her hat and began straightening it out and gathering it into two large bunches. “Do you think I should wear my hair in a couple of braids?” The guard’s earlier mistaken gender identification still tormented her.

The wizard, lost in his thoughts, rejoined the conversation.

“Okay, I think I have the message. What do you think of this: Document confirmed, new wife now sole heir. Beneficiary and Garrett Ferrier’s signatures both had a line with a circle below it under first letter”

Grym repeated the message to himself while counting out word totals on his fingers.

“Twenty-four” he concluded.

“Don’t forget to add the code word” Lunish reminded “But otherwise I think it’s fine”.

The Radiant Guardians was a largely anonymous enterprise and none of them had met, or directly spoken to anyone at The Hub. They were originally recruited by another collector like themselves. Their names were enough to collect any monies due, usually from a specified business or individual within whatever town or city they found themselves. Since the sending stones delivered messages back and forth as direct thoughts, they too were absent of any recognizable vocal cues. As a result, the group had no idea who was on the other end of their reports, and their counterparty had no idea who was delivering the message. Such a system needed some security protocol to be deemed reliable. For this reason, the Radiant Guardians used a code word at the beginning of each message to confirm the participants were the intended parties, which then meant the message could be trusted. Their code word was “snuggles”. Likewise, every message from The Hub would begin with the word “sweetheart”. They were told emphatically in their recruitment that to forget their code word, even once, would mean an immediate end to all communications from The Hub and direct termination of their employment. Similarly, any incoming message that didn’t begin as expected was a signal to jettison their stone and abandon the arrangement.

“Aye, don’t forget snuggles!” Grym giggled

Glynfir sighed and shook his head “Yes, that was assumed, making it twenty-five total. I wish we could change our code word to something a little less cringy, though it is nice to be regularly referred to as sweetheart.”

“I’m not sure I ever want to know who is on the other stone. Probably a huge letdown compared to the image I've created for Snuggles in my mind!” Grym chortled and the others joined in.

“Okay, I’m sending it.” Glynfir squeezed the sending stone between his thumb and forefinger. Closing his eyes, the others went silent momentarily allowing him to focus.

“Done.” He held the stone out to Lunish. “I expect the reply will be directions on where to go next, and given where we are, it’s probably best for you to receive it.” She took it from him and slid it into her pocket.

“So, you’re admitting you can’t find east on a sunny morning?” she smiled back at him.

“Perhaps not as bad as that, but you are the druid.”

There was no way to know how long it would take for a response, though they usually arrived within two to three hours. The trio had found sending their updates before retiring to be the most efficient approach as they almost always had a reply before beginning the next day’s activities. The official business concluded, they settled in around the flickering glow of firelight dancing off the cave walls, enjoyed a meal of wild turkey, and idly speculated about the next destination. By the time evening had run its course, Grym had doffed his chainmail shirt, and Lunish had finished putting her hair into two slim braids that began on the top of her head and fell just below her shoulder blades. Even Glynfir’s previously sodden boot was now only damp, thanks to the warmth of the dwindling fire.

As he stretched out on a deep layer of the high grass they had gathered, the wizard twirled his mustache and admitted to himself that perhaps this outside life wasn’t as bad as he had feared. Whether it was the fresh meadow scent of their bedding mixed with wood smoke, the white noise background of summer insects and hissing coals, or simply the day’s busy activities, he was comfortably asleep in minutes.