He held up his hand to the innkeeper in an apologetic gesture. He'd received a scowl from the man when the peaceful morning was disturbed.

"How do you know that name?" He asked the ball in a hushed voice.

"Answer the damn question, you low born dog cock!" Callus snapped. He seemed particularly upset.

"I'm in Lie-Dor. And Taymon was a man who I paid to escort me."

"And why does he have your stuff?" His master interrupted.

"I was getting to that. I paid him to escort me to Creeden, but he robbed me. Don't worry though, I've got a plan" Murphy declared.

"What's that then? Are you going to chase him down and get your stuff back?"

"That's the plan. I don't even need to fill you in."

"You’re as stupid as they come boy" Callus snapped. It was almost relieving to hear the old man get cranky, after the ordeal of the past few weeks. "He would have sold it or burnt it by now."

"How would you know. I'm hot on his trail actually" Murphy boasted.

"Doubtful. You couldn't follow a conversation, let alone a thief."

"How do you know that name anyway?"

"The bastard told me it, boasted about killing Warlocks, then got rid of the talking stone I left in your bag. Since you're not dead, you can pay me back for that too."

"I never saw such a thing. If a stone was talking to me I think I'd notice."

"You don't even notice when people talk to you" Callus huffed. "The talking stone was for me to communicate with you. Do you really think I'd send a moron on a delivery without keeping track?"

Murphy considered arguing that point, but he'd already forgotten the name of the specific place he was going. Seeing the use of his master's reminders kept his lips sealed from aggravating the old Merlin further. "You know, there's a nicer way to speak to people" he said instead.

Callus sniffed, disregarding the idea. "So where is this Lie-Dor then?"

"Three days walk from Hammond."

"No, You gonban brained bore. What Tavern are you in? Those towns are all fleeting, a few thousand years of life at most. Only the Tavern stays." He reprimanded.

"That doesn’t seem very fleeting" Murphy scoffed. "That's at least fifteen generations."

"Tell me that again in ten millennia, and see if you still feel the same way."

"I won't live that long" Murphy laughed. "I'm no Demai."

"How little you know of your own kind is enough to make me shiver. But you're right I suppose, chances are you'll get yourself killed long before that day comes. Stop changing the topic! Where are you?"

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"The Hik-Cup. It's a comfy place to be true" Murphy said, trying to paint a bit of a picture for the old man.

"Is Uundah with you? Or did you fuck that up too?" Callus hissed.

"He's here. Did you know he could change his shape?"

"Everyone knows that dumb arse. It sounds like your bond is complete though. A sliver of good news at least."

Murphy frowned. "It'd do me well if people could have told me these things earlier" he complained.

"I taught you to read and gave you a library. What you don't know is your own damn fault."

"I could certainly use a library out here" he sighed mournfully.

"What about the books I gave you… oh wait, you lost them." Callus said sarcastically.

"That wasn't my fault" Murphy defended.

"Don't delude yourself boy, that was entirely your own fault. What are you planning to do about it?" His question came with a hint of cynical satisfaction in the tone.

"I told you already. I'm going to track him down and get it back."

"And how do you suppose to do that?"

"My babysitter is looking into it for me."

"And then what? You'll find the place he's at and get your revenge, is that it?"

"Something like that."

"And you're confident you'll win against a man that has already beaten you once?"

"He snuck up on me before. Won't let him get another chance like that."

"That's not a plan stupid" the old man groaned. "When your liaison contacts you about it, let me know. Perhaps I can keep you from getting shot again."

"Do you mean you'll actually teach me something?"

"I'm always teaching you things, you're just touched in the head."

They talked for a while longer, Murphy filling his master in on the details of his trip so far. The old man suggested scouring the hills around the city for ingredients, since the Tavern would have an alchemist's pot somewhere for him to use. By the time he dismissed the ball the Tavern was rather lively. Many of the people coming in looked to be common folk. Their clothing and ignorance of checking in were enough to give that idea validity.

He got a better experience of the city as he left to the outside. Most of the buildings were homes, and there wasn't a span of one hundred feet without another restaurant or pub. The people of Lie-Dor had an apparent appreciation for their food and drink. His stomach groaned at the smells, so he quickened his pace to try and earn a coin or two. The gate guards gave him a leather bangle with the town's crest on it, so he wouldn't have to pay another entry fee. The crest consisted of a depiction of a cooked fish and the phrase "rectitude and grandeur". A big ambition to be sure, though the city clearly wasn't there yet. His haul wasn't great. The surrounding tundra offered little in the way of high concentration aspect, so he had to settle for what little he could find. He ended up filling his bag with coloured yarrows and some weak nunmah roots. It would take everything he collected to make just a few potions, but it was a start.

He reluctantly sold one of his blue crystals to the innkeeper upon his return, netting himself six gold and three silver. It was painful to let go of the potentially useful crystal, but use of the pot was two silver slips, plus he was desperate for a private room. Having some coin would also keep him fed, so the benefits outweighed the downsides to parting with his treasure. While he brewed some sustaining potions, he sent Uundah off to receive his own medallion, making the innkeeper swear to secrecy on the medallion. The man was happy to oblige, recognising the need for the subtlety. Again he found himself wondering if the man was a Warlock. The luxury of a private room came with a wake up call, and the innkeeper promised to wake him in time to meet his party the next morning. With the frivolous expense of another five copper chips, he also arranged to have jugs of mead dropped to his door every hour or so. The mead was more for Uundah than himself. Throughout the past week the O'jin had developed a veracious thirst for the bitter amber, and he'd declared that he intended to drink the week's fill in one sitting. The O'jin had a remarkable ability to ignore the effects of alcohol if he so chose. A benefit of being a crystal controlling a meat suit, so the hangover or impairment wasn't something they fretted about, ensuring he had a great night. He showed his medallion to Murphy. It was made from silver, which was something the little creature had swindled from the innkeeper free of charge. The most enticing fact about it however, was the deep purple stone set into the centre.

"That means I outrank you" Uundah drunkenly boasted.

"For now maybe. I still won't do what you tell me to" Murphy defended.

"But you have to" the swaying rodent complained. "Mines a bigger number."

"How did that even happen?" Murphy said, looking deeply into the crystal.

"I'm a Sage" Uundah chuckled. "Apparently, I'm very good at magic."

"That's no fair. You're made of magic, it's cheating."

"Shh" Uundah beckoned from behind his mug. "Don't tell them that."

"I think they might already know" Murphy said, tossing the silver medal back to its owner. "So you get a babysitter too then?"

"Ugh" Uundah scoffed, just now realising that fact. "I don't want responsibilities. That's a you thing. I'm not a people."

"Apparently you're people enough. Doubt you'd have that otherwise."

Uundah studied his medallion. "Maybe I am people" he muttered, before plunging his snout into his drink.

They hid in their room for the rest of the night, laughing with each other and planning their grand and powerful future. It was a productive day in all. He'd managed to brew two of each of the basic sustenance potions. They were weak, but they would still work to save him suffering for a day or two. Along with those, he experimented a little with the nunmah root, making a potion of something he assumed would be pretty nasty. The concentration of the numbing aspect was intense in the vial, far stronger than anything he'd seen used before. He had an idea of who would make a good test subject for the brew, and he looked forward to pouring it down his enemy's throat. His bag was also stuffed with a few wild herbs he found. They were mundane, containing no discernable trace of aspect, but they smelled delicious.

The mattress welcomed him into a comfortable slumber. And he dreamed of the next day being filled with glory.