The next few days involved more of the same study and practice. He learned some more about runic symbology, and managed to add another nine books to his shelf. He never found "The Skirmish of Jundal-Ful", and hoped his master wasn't planning to quiz him on it. By the time the day came for him to leave on his journey, he had managed to scribe a rune into the first page of his grimoire. It was a fireball spell, Callus insisted it was the best way for him to learn, without it getting too complicated too fast.

He took his old backpack out of retirement, and filled it with food, potions, spare clothing, and anything else he thought he might need. Uundah had sewn his own little backpack out of one of Murphy’s fanciest shirts. He may have taken the shirt from one of the room's in the tower, but he still felt he was its rightful owner. His pouch had some room, now that he'd read through so many of the tomes he was storing inside. He decided against filling the remaining space however, since he intended to gather some souvenirs on his adventure.

After breakfast, Callus led him to the room he would be leaving from. The portal door was much more subtle than the one he'd been through before. It was as simplistic as any door you'd find in a normal house, except for the fact that it stood alone in an empty stone cave. There were no carvings set into it, or numbers adorning its face. Murphy found it boring.

"Before you go" Callus said, stopping him from turning the handle. "I feel like I need to remind you of how important it is that you keep your little talent a secret."

"It's not little, and the ladies would be devastated if I kept it a secret" he responded, winking at his master.

"I'm serious, you vapid sack of stupid" the old man snapped. "You could bring the wrong attention to yourself."

Murphy sighed, and rolled his eyes. "You worry too much old man, I'll be fine."

"It's not you I'm worried about. They'll come looking for me too" he said, a serious look in his eyes.

"Who is they?" Murphy asked. The old man always had such vague threats.

"Pray to your God you don't find out" he replied, making a look of disgust at the thought.

"I don't have a God."

"Nonsense" Callus snapped. "You’re a child of Eseyrakir if I've ever met one."

"That's rude" Murphy complained.

"I'm rude" Callus chuckled. "Run along now chaos child". He opened the door for his apprentice. "Oh, and Murphy" he said, putting his hand on the young man's chest to stop him again. "Don't fuck this up". He shoved Murphy through the door, and it slammed shut behind him.

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He looked around to see an empty storage room. It was lit only by a small window near the ceiling. There were cobweb ridden shelves lining the walls, another row divided the room down the middle. There was a staircase on the other side of the room that went up. He figured he was in a basement.

The package Callus had given him to deliver was still firmly tucked under his arm, so he promptly put it into his pouch before braving whatever might lie ahead. When he got to the door at the top of the stairs, he paused and took a slow and deep breath. He could hear people on the other side, and suddenly he was a little nervous. Uundah was in his hood, looking over his shoulder. The little O'jin was excited, and Murphy could feel that. He patted his friend on the head.

"Alright then, let's go on an adventure" he said with a confident smile.

He turned the knob and pushed. The door started to open, but came to an abrupt stop quickly, so he tried again. After getting the same result a few times, he took to rattling the door as hard as he could in an attempt to move whatever was blocking it on the other side.

"Alright, alright. Keep your hat on old man" a woman's voice came from the other side of the door. There was a clicking sound, followed by a thud. The door opened to reveal a tall woman holding a key.

She stood over him, like any other Demai. She was heavy set and looked middle aged. She had a look of surprise on her friendly face as she studied Murphy in return.

"Have you done something with your beard?" She asked, smiling.

"You could say I've made a few improvements" he joked.

"I'll say" she responded, giving him a wink. "So the old crank has a pet boy now?"

"Maybe I have a pet old crank."

She laughed, and gestured for him to enter the Tavern. It was a lot smaller than the one he'd seen before. The room was boxy and only had a few tables about the place. The patrons looked less spectacular than those in Son Gonkiruun, and there were a lot fewer of them as well. By the look of the patrons there however, he decided it was still best not to stir the pot. He took a seat at the bar, and the woman joined him on the server's side. The sign above the bar read "The Giddy Griever'' in Dolmic letters.

"Are you the blood rain then?" He asked bluntly.

"Sure am dear" she replied, putting two foaming mugs of mead in front of him.

"How do you get a name like that?"

"I killed a lot of pirates. Do you want any food?" She started to slice bread on the counter.

"I can always eat" he said, sniffing at the warm bread.

"A young Warlock always can" she chuckled.

He stayed quiet, trying to think of how to respond. She saw him go white.

"Relax, no one here will care. Not as long as you have him" she said politely, pointing at Uundah.

"How did you know I'm a Warlock?" He asked, confused. He could see the colours of every aspect, but even he had trouble telling the races apart at a look. Only a few people he had ever met had some kind of aspect about their body. He did wonder about that.

She pointed at Uundah. "Dead give away when you get around with an O'jin."

The little creature crawled onto the counter and lapped at his drink. He gave the blood rain an appreciative look, and claimed himself a slice of bread.

"How can you tell what he is?" Murphy questioned. It seemed that most people already knew of Uundah’s origin. To him, the little guy had always looked just like any other monster he had ever heard of or seen. That is, that he thought his friend was essentially just an ugly animal in appearance.

"You get a sense for this kind of thing" she replied. "Comes with age."

"You don't look old" he said with a smile. "How would you have such a sense?"

"That's kind dear" she laughed. "So how long are you in town for?"

"I'm not sure to be honest" he admitted. "I've got some potions to sell, then I'm off on a journey."

"Good thing you came to the Tavern" she said with a friendly smile. "We can help you with all of that."

He smiled back, and took a gulp of his drink. "I've heard that might be the case."

He showed her the potions he wanted to sell, and she drew him a surprisingly detailed map of the town, showing him where he could sell them. He asked her if the town had a library, figuring it wouldn't hurt to see what he could find. He was really starting to enjoy books. There was no library, but she circled a house at the edge of town, and told him the resident may have something for him there. He paid two silver for a private room, the look of the other patrons had him fearing the shared lodging, then he made his way into town with Uundah in tow.