“What d’you reckon then?” Kesla speaks in low, hushed tones, and I get where she’s coming from, this is a hell of a moment. She’s acting like she’s working with a particularly skittish horse, and that’s not too far off what this actually is, because we’re dealing with the unknown. ‘Least where Shay’s coming from …

She doesn’t say anything, far as I can tell she never even heard her. She stays where she is on the top step, her shadow not spreading far over the beach below, not at this time … but it’s clear to me now that it ain’t the sand she’s looking at, probably not even the lapping breakers as high tide rolls in. No, I know what she’s looking at right now. Her eyes are locked on that vast, endless, unbroken blue horizon.

It's a good day, not too warm by Untermer standards but given that it’s significantly warmer than Hocknar this time o’ year, the others have deferred to the heat, Shay included. Those who usually wear heavy coats have bundled ‘em up in Yeslee’s bag for safe keeping, but at least this far below the river nobody bats much of an eye at all the steel this has revealed to the elements. Shay in particular’s shed a lot of layers, but while Kesla’s lost her big duster and tunic now she kept her jack-of-plates on in deference to maintaining some armour, just in case shit were to go down again.

That said, it does look a little off with the rest of her gear. It’s a garment that’s really designed to be worn under other clothes, essentially a vest of layered, quilted linen with small pieces of steel plate woven in-between to stop stabby blades from ruining her day. It’s also a striking cream colour, which doesn’t at all match the dark buckskin of her loose britches, leather bracers and strappy fighter’s boots … although it does look very interesting indeed worn over her ubiquitous loose-fitting, poofy-sleeved white linen shirt. When she lost her coat and tunic to reveal it earlier I wasn’t the only one of the group who had to work on stifling a near-overpowering urge to laugh my arse off, but I managed to cut short of giving her shit over it. Reckon the brief look of hot-eyed murder she cast my way in particular probably helped with that, anyway.

I still reckon she looks a little like she’s on her way to a fencing match , mind. ‘Specially with her sword still strapped at her hip, although the effect’s somewhat spoiled by her handaxes and a few choice knives belted about her too. More than anything else she just looks like a walking threat right now, though I s’pose that ain’t all the way a bad thing, ‘specially given the ground we’re covering today.

We slept well in the temple, which took me a little by surprise once I thought about it some. Deferring on the offer of actual rooms, we instead opted to camp out in the lounge, so by the time Kesla and the others who left to interrogate our prisoner returned more than one of our ever-growing group had fallen asleep on the couches. So we shoved together as much of the furniture as we could, bolstered by warm fur blankets provided by mindful attendants, and settled in for the night. Yeslee, being Yes, preferred to sleep on the floor, but then I never expected anything else from her, while the goblin, Brung, was happier curled up in front of the fireplace anyway. Reckon a bellyful of overlarge, thick warm roast beef sandwiches and some impressively strong ale helped us along, but then we were all proper tired by the time the lamps were turned down and most of the candles extinguished.

There was fresh bacon, eggs, sausages, fried tomatoes and piping hot baking powder biscuits ready for us when we started to stir in the morning, and I’ll admit I stuffed my face ‘til my guts were fit to burst seeing it all laid out like that. We finally discussed what the others had learned from the boy then, since everybody was awake again, and after some deliberation decided on what, given the slim lead we actually had, our next move should be. So once we were all ready to go, we headed for the docks.

We’ve spent the morning touring the tightly-packed, slightly salt air-rotted streets clustered around the city’s massive crescent harbour, slipping between taverns and shops in search of every tattooist we can find. Given this is the territorial stomping ground of the many thousands of sailors, traders, merchants, smugglers and sellswords who frequent the port all-year-round there’s a lot. They’re a superstitious lot who like to have their litanies and mantras to various patron gods inked into their flesh so they don’t have to waste precious breath praying in an emergency, it’s one of the biggest growth industries in all of Untermer. Granted it’s the real talented old pros who really do the biggest, briskest business, but even the hacks seem to scrape in plenty o’ coin to get by every year. So there’s dozens of the places to go through.

Apparently Wull, as the captive would-be killer goes by, was convinced to allow Gael to look into his head enough for them to use a nifty little spell to capture an image from his memory of the artist responsible for the physical application of his cursed tattoo. They said it’s not a perfect likeness, since it’ll be eroded some by the passage of time and the unreliable nature of memory, but what she got hopefully should be good enough to give us a good enough impression to go on. Since he wasn’t able to get a name to go with the face we’ll just have to check ‘em all and hope we can find this venerable talent somewhere in the noise.

So the group split into two parties, each taking one end of the long, sprawling neighbourhood and planning to meet in the middle when we’re done, ‘least if we don’t find ‘em before. Gael gave Tulen the image for herself so she could go with the other group, although the young dragonhalf was reluctant to leave her friend’s side, ‘specially after the shit that went down yesterday. Urgency won the day, though, so she was convinced to go with Thel and the rest. So in the end it was just Gael set up with me, Kesla, Krakka, Shay, Big Man and Brung, Kesla insisting Yeslee go with the others.

Dar too, and I suspect she was as happy to be leaving my company as I was to be free of hers, although I could tell that she was more thrilled not to have Driver 8 darkening her back too. Kesla insisted anyway, wanting to have at least one Untermer native in each group along with a wizard so both can get round good and quick in territory they know. Big Man offered to stay behind at the temple, knowing how conspicuous he’d be down here, but Kesla shot that down before he’d even finished speaking. After what happened to both us and Thel’s band yesterday she decided discretion can be damned in deference to our safety right now. So he's been strolling along behind us the whole time, drawing a lot of looks the whole time but also attracting a very comfortable zero in terms of trouble.

It’s been a varied collection of lower class Untermer life for us so far, venturing from parlour to salon to stall to tent, ostensibly to check out the services and flash-art on offer but mainly to get a good look at each and every artist we can. We asks what questions we feel we can get away with without running the risk of arousing suspicion, but usually we can work out within the first few minutes whether or not they’re even a potential candidate or not, regardless of if Gael gets a look. Turns out a whole lot of these guys ain’t even comfortable working outside their places of business to begin with, preferring to work on walk-ins or purely by appointment. The ones who are willing to make house-calls for special jobs get a closer look, but so far all we’ve found is a big bunch of dead ends.

Once the sun climbed to its full height into the sky and the heat in the press of the crowds and the tight streets became too much for us to bear for one morning, we broke off to find some food. Remembering my way well enough, I led the group to a vendor’s window in the wall down by the docks and, rather than asking what anyone fancied, instead ordered six servings of best battered cod and chips. Gael started to protest about not being given any say in what she’s getting, but I insisted that this is the best meal they’re gonna get anywhere on the whole Strip. I promised they’d love it, and while they gave me a pointed look over what they clearly consider my presumption, they didn’t argue further.

Once we had our order, I remembered our promise to Shay the day we arrived in the city, and led the group off down the docks to the bay beyond the end of the quay. Gael seemed a little thrown by the implied journey given the ground we’d already covered, but Kesla knew well enough what I was leading to, so she nodded her assent and the others went along happily enough. Now it’s clear enough to all I was right.

“It’s …” Shay falters, still rooted to the spot as she takes it all in. “I can’t … it’s amazing. How … how big is it?”

“Thousands of leagues across.” Gael answers in a similarly hushed tone to Kesla’s, although in their case they’re a little taken aback by the view themselves. I know this ain’t the first ocean view they’ve had, they’re well-travelled enough to have seen a coastline at least once, but it’s clearly still enough of a novelty for them too. Besides, this is the Untermer coast, ain’t none more spectacular in all Rundao, y’ask me.

The beach stretches for a quarter mile further before the great craggy white cliffs cut it off, the sand a dull gold in the bright blaze of the noonday sun, but the water’s warm and clear enough here that it’s a powerful deep azure blue. It sparkles white where the sun flashes from the rolling waves, while the breakers are dramatic enough even from here, the surf impressive even this early in the year. It’ll get a whole lot more aggressive as winter proper starts to press in and the sea becomes more treacherous from the storm season, but even now the crash and boom of the cresting breakers is heavy enough rolling into the sands. Up beyond the cliff-line, where the rocks begin to climb in jagged haphazard spires, columns and arches carved by thousand of years of brutal water and wind, the waves crash with unrelenting violence throughout the day.

“There’s islands out there too. A lot of ‘em.” Kesla’s returned to her normal, conversational volume now, happy enough Shay’s just impressed, not overwhelmed. “Too many to count, some big enough to be nations in themselves. I’d like to see more of ‘em one day, if the gods are willing.”

Now Shay finally breaks from her trance, turning to face her with real excitement dancing in her eyes. “Really? Sounds amazing. You’ve been out there, then?”

I know she’s thinking about the dozens of ships we’ve seen clustered around the piers and jetties of the quays, some are quite modest vessels but more than a few great multi-decked three-mast beasts tower over the rest. Some are heavily armoured traders that sail dangerous waters threatened by pirates and lethal monsters alike, but there’s plenty of Tektehran naval vessels moored in the harbour too. The thought of setting out on the deep, unfathomable waters of the vast ocean seas is daunting to me, but in a strangely enticing way. I get what she’s feeling now.

“Once, in my second year as a merc. I crewed security on a merchantman trading hides, ore and lumber from Hocknar to Krebet. We had a couple close calls with pirate crews and got brushed by a leviathan on the return with a hold of spice and oil, but nothing too eventful. Didn’t have to draw my sword in anger the whole voyage.”

Shay cocks a brow at that. “Well that’s no fun.”

“Oh, I dunno. Wasn’t really about that. I was there in case we ever got boarded, we just had to protect the cargo, but that wasn’t my reason for signing on. It was a chance for a little bit of an adventure, and to actually get paid for it.” Kesla grins wide. “I went for an experience, and I sure as hell got one. Turned out I got a good pair o’ sea-legs, too.”

“Well it sounds wonderful.” Shay looks out across the vast waters again, her smile growing wistful. “I want to try it someday.”

Kesla leans in and gives her a little shoulder-nudge. “Maybe once we’re done with this job we can hire out to a merchantman, get you a chance.”

“Oi, we still ain’t had any proper downtime from the last job yet.” I growl, but it’s largely in jest, I can’t quite keep the smile from my lips. Thankfully Gael spots it, ‘cause otherwise it could maybe look like I forgot why we’re actually here in the first place.

Tipping me a little wink, Kesla reaches out and wraps her arm round my shoulders, but then turns it into a loose headlock as she pulls me in close. I go along with it, only pretending to squirm and protest, and we chuckle for a few moments, our spirits suitably lightened.

After a few moments, Krakka cocks his head, regarding the rest of us with his bright-dark eyes. “Do you suppose Yeslee would be up for that kind of adventure? You’ve seen what she’s like in a large city, how do you think she’d be out there on a ship?”

Letting me go, Kesla regards him for a moment, then me, before turning to Gael. Finally she regards Shay, who simply shrugs, then she bursts out laughing, and it’s not long before the rest of us join her. Even after the laughter subsides we simply stand there for a few moments more, just enjoying the pleasant moment.

“Okay,” Kesla finally interjects “So what’s the plan, we setting down here or what?” She casts about the curving stone seawall marking the end of harbour. There are a few people dotted about its length, some townsguard on watch patrolling it and a few locals fishing off the wall with long poles, but otherwise there’s no-one camped out here with any real purpose. It’s a working port, not a sightseeing spot.

“You don’t want to sit out on the beach?” Gael enquires “I thought that was the point of this little detour.”

I have to frown at that, looking down at the darker wet stretch marking the tideline, then the brighter stretch further up, leading into the tall grass-dotted dunes mostly obscuring the hill beyond. “You’re sure? Looks like an invitation to a sandy crotch to me.”

Gael gives me a very flat look. “There are ways around that, genius.”

Cocking my head, I give ‘em a sharp look of my own, but there’s no more venom in it than their feigned reproach, and it doesn’t take ‘em long to smile again. Gael turns to Kesla, doesn’t say anything, simply raises their brows in clear enquiry.

Kesla looks to Shay now, who’s already looking down at the beach like she’s seeing it all for the first time. I gotta admit she really does look intrigued by it. Finally Kesla frowns a little, like she’s just remembered something, and turns back to Brung, who’s been pretty much silent for most of the morning.

I’ll admit, he’s too much of a novelty for me to just forget about, even if he has spent most of this time with his hood up as we’ve been making our rounds, but it’s thrown back now, has been since we broke off for lunch in fact, I realise. Like he’s finally comfortable enough in our company to let himself be really seen now. Suddenly I realise I didn’t even wonder if he might actually like fish in the first place, and I start to feel bad about ordering the same lunch for everybody …

“You cool with that, Brung?” Kesla asks it so matter of fact I feel worse. She’s accepted him into our little circle already.

He regards her for a long moment with those blazing bright eyes, and I still find myself wondering what the hell’s even going on behind them half the time. I have no more dislike of goblins than Kesla does, this unusual little sellsword is a perfect example of the fact they can be well-rounded people just like the rest of us. But about the only real encounters I’ve had with his kind have always been when they’re trying to kill me, it’s proper weird to suddenly be interacting with one in a social situation. But when I realise I’m thinking about it like that I hate myself for it.

“Your party, Mistress Shoon.” He finally rasps, his expression unchanged. “Your call.”

“No, really, I’d like to know. We’re all in this together, sure, but that don’t mean you just have to put up with what we wanna do.”

His brows raise a little at that, I’m almost surprised to see it, and maybe the slightest tick of a smile touches the corners of his beaky mouth. “Beach is fine.” He starts walking now, not even bothering to head for the shallow stone staircase leading down into the sand further up but just stepping straight to the edge of the wall and dropping the eight feet down onto the beach itself.

I turn to Kesla, my own brows shooting up through no fault of my own, and she just grins sidelong at me, shrugging with wry amusement. “Guess that’s it, then.” She pauses before stepping to the edge, then looks down, considering it for a stretch.

Still feeling a little bad about my attitude, I try to mask it with an eyeroll as I step to Krakka, who’s frowning down at the sand too. “You all right with this, old man?”

Turning my way, our cleric gives me a pointed look at the address. “Less of the lip, lad. I’m not so old I can’t still put you on your arse before you can blink.” He’s smiling despite the threat, but I know it’s not entirely idle. “But yes, I suppose I am. Not that I’m too enamoured of this route, though.”

“Allow me.” Driver 8 finally shunts into life again, startling Shay a little so she skips aside a big step as he starts to move towards the edge now, not even pausing before he steps off. It’s not a particularly big drop, but even for his ten feet it’s not exactly just a single step down, and when he lands it’s with a very loud, heavy thump that sends up a great pluming gout of sand in all directions. He looks down for a moment as he finds himself now sunk almost two feet into the beach, but he simply picks either foot up with additional little puffs before turning back to us. He raises his hand now, offering it to the edge for Krakka to step onto.

Krakka lets one of his barking, discordant laughs go seeing that, and steps into the offered palm without hesitation. “Why thank you, Big Man.” He’s still smiling as broadly as he’s able as Driver 8 start to lower him carefully to the beach below.

“My pleasure.” the golem rumbles, and I could swear he almost sounds pleased with himself.

This time when I look to Kesla, she’s stifling a laugh. Gael’s still just frowning down at the drop, clearly unsure about this. “This is … um … perhaps I should just …”

“Oh come along, now.” Shay steps past her and just jumps, landing with an impressively subtle puff of sand that barely even rises off the ground, one of the most graceful things I ever seen her do, in fact. She turns straight round to look up at them. “It’s easy. You’re half-elf, this is in your blood.” She takes a step back, two, then holds her arms out. “it’s easy.”

Frowning a little, I turn back to them. “You did survive the Viper. This is a piece of cake compared to that.” Then I step back myself … and there’s nothing under my feet now. I drop fast, seeing their eyes widen quick watching me drop, their mouth dropping open too in surprise, but I keep my face cool as I hold their gaze all the way down. I got no idea of the exact footing I’m about to find as I land, but I trust my luck all the same, and when I land I let my knees fold as I take in the impact, spreading my arms a little. Inwardly I breathe a sigh of relief, but I keep my eyes on Gael even as I stand up again. “You coming?”

Gael turns to Kesla, the only one left up there with ‘em now, looking pretty nervous. “Should I … ?”

“Up to you, luv.” Kesla gives them a reassuring little nudge, then drops into a crouch, putting her own hand down on the edge of the wall. It takes me a moment to realise exactly what she’s about to do, so when she boosts herself off in a considerably more controlled jump than my own I gotta scramble aside with a little less grace than I’d like before she drops right on top of me. She bends at the knees same as me when she lands, and must not suffer any more discomfort from her own landing since she simply steps up to my side with a cocky half-smile I find more’n a little infuriating.

“Come on, Gael, it’s fine.” Kesla calls up to them. “If I can do that, you definitely can. It’s fine.”

Shay stays where she if, holding out her arms, beckoning a little but mostly just prepared to catch her if this goes horribly wrong, and I can tell that’s definitely what the young wizard’s thinking about. They take a few nervous breaths, looking up the length of the wall to the steps a good twenty yards further up, clearly considering chickening out and just running over to take that safe route down, and I can’t say I’d really blame ‘em. This really ain’t actually necessary, and none of us would actually think any less of ‘em for playing it safe like that, especially after what happened in the mountains, and then that close call yesterday. But I know ‘em too well, Kesla too, and it’s becoming clear enough to Shay too – she’s fully capable, and she’s definitely someone who wants to do all the same stuff we can, they won’t be able to live with themselves if they don’t prove they really can. So they take a last deep breath, tighten their lips and narrow their eyes, then, as an afterthought, toss their staff over the side towards me.

Ain’t really expecting that, so I almost miss it, having to lunge somewhat to catch it at the last, but in the end reckon it just looks like a cool last minute reaction instead. So I plaster a half-smile on my face to make it look like that was my plan all along, and look up at them again, broadening my smile as encouragement.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

Gael doesn’t quite close their eyes as they jump off, but I can tell they want to. They drop without any real finesse, and Shay moves forward anyway, reaching out to catch ‘em as they come down, but in the end they land straight enough and have the good sense to drop into a crouch when their feet hit the sand. The sand that’s kicked up is no bigger than what Shay set loose, and they manage to keep their balance, although they got their arms spread wide just in case, and they look pretty shook now they’re down. Shay crouches too beside ‘em, putting a hand on their shoulder, and leans close to mutter: “Hey, that’s it, you did it. That was great, Gael. Well done.”

They take several deep, unsteady breaths, but slowly a smile starts to creep across their face as they realise they actually pulled it off. Finally they raise their face to look up at Kesla, who’s stood by with her arms folded and head cocked. “Yeah, I suppose I did. I really didn’t enjoy that. Can we use the steps to climb back up?”

“Definitely.” Krakka interjects before Kesla or Shay can answer, although he’s smiling a little too. “I have no more time for that kind of nonsense than you do.”

“I most certainly agree with you there.” Gael takes Shay’s offered hand and allows her to help them stand up again. They’re looking pretty sheepish now, I’ll admit. “But Shay’s right, it’s in my blood. I shouldn’t be scared of that kind of thing.”

“You just need more confidence.” The half-orc gives her a companionable pat on the shoulder. “There’s a warrior in you, you just have to let them strut once in a while. If you have the guts to port headlong into a solo fight with a bunch of masked nutcases a simple eight foot drop shouldn’t baffle you.”

“All right, I’m fine, okay?” Gael shakes her off, but does it politely. “Can we just get on? I’m hungry.” They push through the group now, moving out into the open towards where Brung’s been patiently waiting for us all this time.

As we start after them I realise I’ve still got Gael’s staff. It’s lighter than I was expecting, certainly given how effectively I saw them wielding it yesterday, but it’s also bloody tall, way taller than I am, and it’s definitely a bit of a handful for me to move around with. I have to juggle it somewhat as I head out across the sand, following the slight incline up the beach with the others, finally leaning it on my shoulder and holding onto it with both hands and hoping for the best. As I look sidelong up at Shay she’s watching me with a growing smile.

“Chivalry can be a pain sometimes, can’t it?”

“I don’t mind, really.” I lie through my teeth.

“They’re lucky to have you, Art. And I’m glad you’re both in a good place again. I was starting to wonder what’s been up between you two since yesterday morning.”

“Has there been … I dunno what you mean, I hadn’t noticed –”

“You know, for such a sneaky little bugger there are times when you can’t lie for shit, you know that, right?” She gives me a proper sly, toothy grin now.

Frowning deep, I give her a hard glare, but she just smiles right back, oblivious. Up ahead Gael’s fishing through their pockets, final shrugging before drawing out one of their now rarely used handkerchiefs and shaking it out. They stop in a likely spot halfway up the beach, a decent stretch back from the high-tide line, where there’s a decent sized gap between the scattered driftwood and other detritus that’s built up on the sand, and raises it in front of them. Muttering under their breath, they blow out across the handkerchief, a long, full lungful, then start stretching the square of light white linen between their fingers. And it obeys them, genuinely seeming to grow larger as she pulls. Larger and thicker too, I can see.

Finally they got a piece easily long as the span between their hands held wide, but instead of stopping they take another breath and blow through it again, snapping it out in front of them in the same moment. As it whips out I see it expand outwards a good deal more dramatically now, and when they finally stop blowing there’s an easy twelve-by-twelve square foot overlarge handkerchief in their hands. They snap it out one more time and this time let it settle down on the sand in front of ‘em, and seeing this seems to snap Kesla out of her impressed reverie enough to help smooth it out in place.

“Bloody hell, Gael.” I manage to choke out after a baffled moment. “How the hell did you … um … what?”

The look they give me is sharp, but it doesn’t stay that way for long, a surprisingly sly smile spreading across her face soon enough. “Just go along with it for once, please. It’s magic. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

Ignoring the urge the glare back, I Instead hoist the staff off my shoulder and pass it back, then step up to this miraculous new blanket now spread out in front of us. Crouching, I give it a careful, light-fingered poke, and I’m surprised to find that now, somehow, it feels more like some kind of waxed, waterproofed canvas. That makes me frown some, and when I look up I see their smile’s grown positively gleeful now. I can’t help responding in kind seeing it, even if mine still feels incredulous. “Cute.”

“C’mon, then. Gael’s right, I’m starving.” Kesla starts unbuckling her swordbelt. “Shall we?”

Nodding, Shay steps forward onto the brand new blanket and sets the canvas bag she’s been toting since we set off in the middle before sitting cross-legged on one of the empty corners. Gael sticks her staff into the sand behind her and unbuckles her own sword before settling down beside her, and I’m quick taking up the place on her other side before anyone else can take it up. I see Shay give me a look when she sees this but I try real hard to ignore it.

Hunkering down on Shay’s other side, Kesla sets her sword down and reaches forward to open the bag. The moment she does the smell of warm, freshly-fried battered fish and vinegar-splashed chipped potatoes wafts out of it, and my mouth instantly starts watering. Reaching in, she starts passing out each parcelled meal, holding the first out to Brung as he settles down on my open side.

Before unwrapping my own, I reach into the satchel of odds and ends I brought from the temple after taking them up on their offer of a few little takeaway bits and pieces before we set out this morning. I find the flasks with ease, taking one out and unscrewing the cap, taking a little whiff to check its contents, then frown. “Um … okay, I forgot I don’t know how this works. Gael, which is it that goes with fish again?”

Gael pauses with a chip hovering just shy of their mouth, cocking a brow my way. “Hmmm? You mean the wine?”

“Of course the wine. I didn’t reckon we’d wanna hit the spirits this early in the day.”

Their brow quirks a touch higher as they pop the chip into their mouth and start chewing, but they don’t rise to the bait. “Red, obviously.”

“Ah yes.” I screw the cap back on and drop the flash back in, recovering another and checking it. Bingo. I seal this one again too but leave it set out next to the food bag. “Obviously.”

“Oh my gods …” Shay quietly exclaims, drawing everyone’s immediate attention. She’s chewing slowly, a look vaguely close to ecstasy on her face now, and I see she’s torn off a little piece of fish already.

“Gorgeous, ain’t it?” I grin now, finally starting to unwrap the paper bundle so I can start on my own. “I told you, best fish and chips in the world, that place does.”

“Reckon I might have to agree with you on that score.” Kesla chews her current mouthful slowly, almost reverently, then when she does swallow she simply raises her hand and licks her fingertips clean one at a time before going back for another morsel. “This is really something.”

“It’s something else, I agree with you there.” Krakka picks through his own lunch with those strange long-fingered hands of his and considers for a moment before picking out a couple of chips. “There’s … it’s something about the batter, I think. They’ve done something different than usual.”

“The beer in the batter.” I beam him a smile. “They got a deal with one of the upscale breweries in Tabaphic, so it ain’t just your ordinary ale. That’s a special one, proper secret ingredient stuff.”

“Well it’s extremely good, you made the right call.” Gael finally admits as they nibble on a piece, although I can see their cheeks are a little flushed again. Gods, Gael, you really can’t bluff for shit, can you? They see me watching after a moment, see how thoroughly incredulous a look I’m giving them, and they roll their eyes. “Oh all right, it’s gorgeous. My congratulations to the chef, or whoever it was.”

I smile at that, tearing off a big piece of my own fish and then halving it before selecting a couple of chips and popping both together into my mouth. It’s a been a while, so I really relish it, finally remembering just how this was one of the things I most missed when I left. The others are clearly enjoying their own meals as much as me, I don’t even need to ask after Brung the way he’s quietly chewing away, again smiling that subtle half-smile of his. So I just munch away happily for a while, and the others seem similarly happy to just shut up and enjoy their meal for a while too.

After a few, Driver 8 finally stirs from his quietly contemplative observation of the beach around us and turns to the water, seeming to consider it for a few moments. Then he just starts walking, moving with slow, implacable steadiness across the sand, and when he reaches the lapping surf he keeps going. I watch him wade in un to his knees, this hips, then when he’s up to his chest and still stepping I arch my brows, turning to Kesla. “What the hell?”

“What, you worried he might drown?” she chuckles a little as she regards me for a moment before turning back to watch him continue until he’s up to his neck.

He stops for a moment now, and I begin to think that maybe that’s it, that’s as far as he’ll go, but then he takes another step and suddenly he’s just gone under the waves, and I hear Kesla mutter something unintelligible, low under her breath. She catches me watching her again and just rolls her eyes, returning to her meal. “Let him have his adventure. Ain’t like any of us can do that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I pick out another scrap of fish and pop it into my mouth. I contemplate further for a moment while I chew it. “So …” I finally venture after swallowing. “What’s the plan with the boy? Wull or whatever it was.”

“Shul said they might be able to do something about the tattoo, given enough time.” Kesla answers after a moment. “Might be they can reverse the enchantment eventually, but it’ll be tricky, looks like. Meantime they’ll give him a room in the back, look after him. Under guard, obviously, but … it’s more for his own good than anything else, really. For all we know poor bastard’ll choke to death moment he sets foot outside otherwise.”

The thought of that makes me bare my teeth, I can’t help it. Don’t ruin my appetite, but I still have to take a moment to suck my fingers cleaner before I pick up the flask and unscrew it, then take a quick swig. I swill it for a moment before swallowing, and I have to admit it works really well with the fish. Certainly I feel better after.

After a moment I notice Brung eyeing the flask with something that might be curiosity, so I offer it up. Then I notice Gael watching me and I have to smile, which she returns.

“What’d Yeslee say?” Shay ventures now, picking the flask up herself after Brung sets it back down in the middle of the blanket. “You know, about that woman he described. Ventriss, was it?”

“Vandryss.” Kesla corrects her, not even looking up from her fish as she picks over what little she now have left. “She … wasn’t sure. She said it sounded like it could be a few different things, all of ‘em troubling, but couldn’t narrow it down on what she had to go on.”

“Then … what could she be?” I wonder aloud, though I’m not really sure if I really want to know. “Potentially?”

“Might be she has some dark elf blood in her. Maybe. But she said the description sounded off, like if she was then she definitely ain’t pure, there’s something proper wrong in the mix.” She finally looks up, turning to me as she pops another morsel of fish into her mouth. “The way her eyes were … weird. That threw her. The teeth too. That ain’t an elf thing. Or the nails.”

“Dark elves, though … that’s far north, ain’t it?” I pick out a few more chips, but don’t bite yet. I’m still ruminating. “Tektehr, mostly. Heard they pretty much run the Empire.”

“Does that mean it’s them, then?” Shay wonders “This is Terror bullshit after all?”

“I don’t think so …” Kesla lets out a weary sigh. “No, the way the boy described her, the rest of it, the way this is all set up … this ain’t them. There’d be no reason for it. They got control already, why would they need to be so quiet about it?” She picks out the last of her fish and a couple of her dwindled chips. “No, this is something else. The way they’re avoiding fucking with the Terrors, that’s them being smart, just like with the Guild. And the way they’re using these disparate crews, non-affiliated, just common thugs? That’s smart too. Compartmentalising who knows what, and making it so whatever they do know, for what little it's actually worth, don’t get out. Terrors don’t need to do that shit, not since they already run everything they need to.”

Krakka pisks up the flask now. “But if she is a dark elf, even just half of one …”

“I’d say the fact they seem wrong is the key, then.” Shay counters “Together with that odd stray wizard, and especially the orc … Kesla’s right. This is a whole lot more complicated than it seems. Like it’s supposed to seem, even.”

I have to scowl at that. “I swear, this shit gives me a headache sometimes.”

“Reckon it’s meant to.” Kesla smiles ruefully now.

There’s another thoughtful silence as we draw to the close of our communal meal, and once I’ve wolfed down every last scrap of my own fish and chips I find myself casting longing looks at the remains of others’ meals. Shay catches me watching what’s left of hers as she takes another swallow of wine and cocks a brow, giving me a somewhat sharp smile as she screws the cap back on the flask. Instead of calling me on it she turns to Kesla. “You’re sure going after this tattooist’s the smartest play, then? We’ve already got the name of this gang leader, what was it?”

“Vik.” Gael puts it, licking their fingers clean after finishing off the last of their own fish, although I can’t help noticing they still got a few chips left. “And the one I fought in the alley was called Tog. He was quite good, I’m not sure I could have beaten him.”

“I’m just glad it never got that far.” Kesla breathes, finally picking up her now empty food-wrapper and crumpling the greasy paper into a ball. “Vik ain’t a viable lead, ‘least not yet. Darwyn said she didn’t recognise the name herself, but if he is in charge of these freelance gangs then he’ll be real hard to find, and we sure won’t get nowhere just wandering round the bad part o’ town asking after him.”

Kesla’s right, the kind of circles that lot move round in won’t take too kindly to that at all, we’d be as likely to get out collective throats cut as just shown a good run-around. There are plenty of non-affiliated gangs that operate on the fringes of most cities, scraping together thoroughly criminal livings through petty theft, burglary, extortion and general unpleasant behaviour, as well as the occasional sideline in smuggling. If they steer clear of anything the Guild themselves are involved in, they’re permitted to operate, so long as they keep their noses “clean” – which essentially translates to leaving alone anyone who pays the guild for protection, or they’ve otherwise deemed off-limits. As a result for the most part they just scrape by living off the scraps, the shit work that nobody looking to make their fortune would consider, and as a result their most lucrative enterprises tend to be hiring themselves out as freelance muscle, essentially paid thugs. They’re dangerous, and they don’t like outsiders poking their noses into their business, as much because that might just get the Guild looking where they ain’t wanted.

“Tattooist it is, then.” Shay finally allows as she picks up the last scraps of fish and bundles them together, popping the pieces into her mouth and making a clear effort not to look my way while she’s doing it. She can’t help a slight smile at the thought. I try not to let it get to me, seeing it.

To distract myself, I look out to the water again, where Driver 8 disappeared … just in time to see him emerge again, his head slowly cresting through the rolling surf. It’s a slightly eerie sight, seeing his red eyes blazing through the prismed water before he breaks surface, but I guess I was at least half-expecting it so it doesn’t give me the start I suspect it’d inflict on a passing stranger. The first I realise Brung, who already finished his meal before me, is watching too is when he hisses like a startled beast, and I realise he’s tensed beside me as he watches Big Man rise from the sea. I manage the resist to urge to reach out and rest a calming hand on his shoulder, genuinely unsure of how he’d actually react under the circumstances.

“Bloody hell … golem. Damn it.” The goblin sits back, flexing his claws for a moment as he looks away, shaking his head, eyes narrowed. They meet mine and for a moment he just watches me, almost seeming surprised at being caught out.

So I smile, the warmest I can muster, hoping it’ll calm him. “Big Man’s harmless, I promise.”

“How’d you end up with Thel and Dumoli, if I might ask, Master Brung?” Gael asks him, seemingly out of nowhere. When I look at them they’re regarding him with simple curiosity.

Those bright yellow eyes widen now, seeming genuinely surprised to have been addressed the way he has. “Master? Bloody hell … not master. No. Brung only. Please.”

Gael arches her brows, but doesn’t seem offended. “Forgive me. Brung. I just wondered –"

“Rescued me. In Tabaphic. Was in a cage, after uprising. What they called it, anyway. Bollocks. Never killed any man before they tried to kill me. Miners wanted my home, thought there was iron. Pretended we were a threat so soldiers would clear us out. Family got cut to pieces. Only one left. Took me alive, put me in cage. Paraded me, made example.”

“Minerva …” Gael breathes, looking a little paler than usual. “Brung, I’m … how could …”

Brung bares his teeth in what could approximate a grin, but there’s no real humour in it. “Last laugh, mind. No ore in our hills. All that for nothing.”

“But that’s worse.” Gael protests, looking genuinely offended. “How could anyone –”

“People are greedy, and they don’t know any better.” Kesla growls, clenching her fists as she looks out towards Driver 8 now as he finally clears the surf. “We’ve run into that enough ourselves, remember?”

Gods, I do. We’ve run into would-be employers in the past who’ve tried to get us to go into a forest lair or rocky valley or prospective mine to clear out a band of unruly goblins or a horde of rogue orcs who’ve been stirring up trouble. Kesla’s pretty good at weeding out the genuinely needy from those looking to exploit established prejudices for their own benefit, and more than once we’ve sent opportunists packing for trying to fool us into murdering innocents for personal gain. If they can’t prove these goblins or orcs are a genuine threat with blood on their hands we ain’t interested, but there’s plenty other merc crews out there ain’t anything like so discerning.

Worst thing is, half the goblin or orcish uprisings Rundao’s seen in the wilds over the years probably started with folk trying to take what wasn’t theirs to begin with. There’s been times we’ve hunted down and killed genuine threats that ultimately turned out to have been riled up by somebody trying to earn a fast fortune in the Reaches or some of the other wilderness territories we ply most of our trade in. So even though we’re justified in killing to protect innocent farms or villages, it still leaves a nasty taste in the mouth after.

It'd be instantly understandable for Brung to be angry about it, to want to inflict horrible damage on those he felt responsible, but instead he’s so calm I’m left a little beside myself seeing it. Moreover the fact he’s clearly gone on to ply his own trade in the company of the very kind of people who would’ve been hired to do that sort of thing … it’s hard to fathom. He catches me watching him now, and I can’t begin to guess what my face might be telling him, but he simply shrugs.

“Thel and Du … understand. No hunting work, no purges. Mostly just security, odd necromancer, warlock, etcetera like. Careful about who hires us.”

That makes me nod, lets me breathe out again. “Us too. Too many arseholes out there.”

“Amen to that.” Krakka growls, done with his own meal too and now cradling Bloodmoon in his lap as he frowns over this turn in the conversation.

Shay swallows the last of her chips, but leaves her paper laid out as she regards her greasy fingers for a moment. “So when you said that they rescued you from a cage …”

“Literally.” Brung nods once, almost more punctuation that affirmation. “Was complicated.”

“Like a breakout? From prison?”

“After fashion.” I’ll admit his clipped, simplistic responses tell a story while revealing very little, it makes it a little baffling trying to follow his story sometimes, but mostly you catch the gist. I think I got it this time.

“Well surely that was … I mean really …” Shay’s frowning deeply now. “Didn’t they get into trouble for that?”

“Ain’t been back to Tabaphic since, so hasn’t come up.” There’s the subtlest smile touching the corners of his mouth again.

“Yeah …” Kesla breathes after a moment, and no-one else seems to know quite what to say to that. I can’t help smiling a little, mind. I dunno why, somehow that’s just the funniest shit to me right now. It’s all I can do to keep from bursting out laughing.

“None of us are perfect either.” Driver 8 says now, breaking the silence at last. He’s stood a few feet away from the edge of the blanket, which I suppose is him trying to be considerate since he’s still dripping wet. “We have performed acts in our time together that might be considered by some to be problematic.”

“Ain’t sure you oughtta really lump yourself in with that, Big Man.” I admit “But yeah, you got a point there. Still, most of us ‘least had the good grace to do it outside earshot of anybody’d actually be in a position to start any shit about it.”

Kesla grins wide, reckon she finds the sheer irony in my statement in her regards in particular a little hilarious. Technically she’s a wanted enemy of the whole Tektehran Occupation, they just don’t know it. She should have one hell of a price on her head.

Brung must pick up on it, given the way he regards her for a long, watchful moment. “Troublemaker yourself?”

“You could say that, yeah.” Kesla admits with a wry chuckle. “In my youth.”

He cocks his head. “Resistance?”

Her smile narrows, but doesn’t fade entirely, her regard of him becoming more shrewd. “Yeah. Freedom Legion.”

“Makes sense.” He nods, again just once. “Rest of you?”

That makes me blink. “Gods no, I was just a kid. And I was in the Guild, so …” Coming up short with more to say, I just shrug. “Y’know. Never really came up.”

“I was still in school.” Gael agrees.

Krakka simply shrugs. “I largely stayed out of it. My Lady didn’t take sides in that, so I had no right to behave any differently.” He still gives Kesla a shifty look as he says it, and she gives another knowing little half-smile seeing it.

“Up in the mountains we mostly just stayed out of the Terrors’ way.” Shay’s having trouble meeting anyone’s eyes now, I notice. “We had other concerns.”

Brung studies her for in particular for a long moment, no suspicion in his regard, but I see her shying all the same. Finally he turns to look up at Driver 8, who’s a little while answering.

“In truth I could not say. I was still asleep.”

Brung frowns at that, and I just wouldn’t know where to start. It’s a hell of a story, too long for a lunch that’s already over, but I guess we’ll get to it eventually. For now he just looks up at Big Man for another long moment, face still unreadable, before finally shrugging once again, like he’s content to wait on that particular revelation.

Everyone seems to be finished now, the flask making one last round as we wash it down, and that pretty much drains it now before it comes back to me. I suck down the last mouthful, giving it a swill to clean my teeth before swallowing it down, then cap it again and stuff it away while I lick my lips. The atmosphere seems to have finished mellowing again, and we’re generally pretty contented after such a good meal anyway, so no-one seems particularly inclined to move just yet. But we’ve got a job to do all the same.

It occurs to me now, as we sit here, that on the subject of the resistance against the Occupation at least, Yeslee’s never really spoken about what she was doing, and none of us ever felt inclined to press her on it. I’ll admit I’m curious about it now, mind. I wonder if she might think me too bold if I tried to probe her on it next time we’ve got a moment together.

“Reckon we oughtta get a move on, yeah?” Kesla finally ventures, giving her knees a quick little brush off before shifting her legs about and pushing herself to her feet, picking up her sword as she rises. “Best not waste the day if we can help it.”

“Why not?” I scrape up the rest of the rubbish now and start stuffing it all, screwed up or not, into the bag. “Still a lot of ground to cover. You never know though, might be the others already lucked out on their end.”

“Doubtful.” Gael interjects as she passes me her own bundled-up paper. “Tulen would have contacted me as soon as they found him.”

“Ah.” I grimace a little as I accept her rubbish. “Yeah.” I stuff it away with the rest before finally starting to work my way to my own feet, catching Kesla’s eye as I do.

Her smile’s subtle again, but bright with amusement, and it’s all I can do to keep from snapping in response to it. Finally she gives a little shrug as she straps her sword back on. “Guess we’ll see.”