…..:::::|. Silver Street: Peddler’s Way .|:::::…..

The Half-Giants eyed the wolaenki as they rounded the corner. The female, golden-skinned and clad in all black wildergear thrust a tapered-heeled boot upon the edge of the chair beside her with a scathing scoff.

“They survived again.”

“They are a bit difficult to kill, Gwynerh.” The Red End stated.

“What with Exemplariat’s running around stopping time and wiping memories, I suppose so.”

She finger-combed the white of her fine wavy hair out of her face. She was being glanced at, regardless of the species or sex of the tavern patrons. This white-haired older woman’s looks sharply begged attention. The way her wildergear fit her femininity was hard to ignore.

“World certainly has changed.” One of the other Half-Giants murmured watching others watch her.

“The world hasn't changed. Buildings just got better made and everyone has an indoor loo.” She cursed.

She kept stroking at her long neck with one slight—for a Half-Giant—finger. She did so with an impatience that was bubbling quick to the surface. She leaned her head, full of fancy white waves, to one side as she wildly plotted something. She caught some of those glances with sharp amber eyes, somewhat annoyed and somewhat pleased she seemed irresistible to all those looking at her. Many didn't understand the Dicus and so she rested on that fact also.

“This is moving far too slow.” She pat a finger on her golden cheek.

“Impatient, My Queen?” The Dicus of incredible beauty, next to her, slid his calm eyes of prism to meet her gaze.

“Calculating, Tsemetso. You know how I rage.”

“And a beautiful rage at that, Highness.” Another more heinous looking Half-Giant blurted his hasty compliments. He resembled the ugly mix between troll and Giant. His name was Keifer and he was an unsubtle sort.

“You must be the dullest of us, Keifer. Your impeccable inability to comprehend your surroundings astounds me. How you reign over rock and earth I'll never know.”

“Reign.” The red of the VVarRaven’s beard and mustache spread angrily as the biggest of the group rubbed a polishing cloth on the pommel of that chunk of metal he called a sword. It had long been brought to shine but he hadn't noticed in his seething choler.

“Vexed, Ravin?” Gwynerh pricked.

“That drunk-arsed Ring has given the Agents free reign over the Universes.” Ravin's eyes popped a fiery red glow. “Reign they have no capacity to fathom. What do they know of eternity?”

“Quite a bit it seems.” Tsemetso answered, the jade etchings in his honey and grey skin pulsing low under his hood.

“There is so much more they do not know.” Gwynerh shifted. “There is AllTime to be run and those who do not know how to read it should not have access to it.”

“The Actus Agentem are also smaller in their number than they used to be.” Tsemetso offered.

“But yet still obstructive in their nuisance.”

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“We could try to kill them, again.” Keifer offered.

She gave Keifer a very hard scowl. “Since we just tried that, such attempts would be obvious and our objectives left unattended.” She calmed her mood, “Nono, this has to serve our larger needs.” Her look was distant as if she were engineering a gestalt of deadly plans.

“You could use them to tend your objectives...” Tsemetso, the wiser of the group, put forward.

“Unlike every other ruler on the face of this planet, Tsemetso, I don’t want to touch Percival.”

“I don’t mean like that.” Tsemetso had been used to others taking all his suggestions as something lascivious but his words here were farther reaching than the bedposts he was known to rule. “I meant how they hunt and their call over magecraft...and their insatiable curiosity for things they shouldn’t touch.”

“Ah, yes. Understood. The Hearthage in the north is faulty. And they don’t like the magi in the north.”

“I'm sorry, I don't follow.” Keifer blurted.

“We need to get my husband back, Keifer. Back to where he belongs, on this plane of existence. By my side. We haven't been able to find the Prime Bolt Engine at all since Glaurea was broken. The Agency swears by all of time and space they understand how those things work. So, that northern Hearthage, with its many broken links, mis-links and the what, could be used as a focus for teleportation. Once it’s fixed up a bit and we have those nuisance magi removed by the Agency and all their Villa friends, we can then use the system of voidhearths the correct way and force a teleportation.”

“What sort of teleportation?” Keifer questioned, squinting.

“A planar teleportation.”

“Whoa!” Keifer recoiled.

“I wasn’t meaning that either. Last time a planar-merge was attempted it almost broke the planet.” Tsemetso's eyes narrowed to slits.

“I don't need the planet...I only need Nezzar.”

“Gwynerh.” Tsemetso sagged with scrutiny. “He would sorely disapprove. He loves to see his subjects in abject horror. If there were no subjects, he'd--”

“Fine. Fine. But I rather like the idea of clearing out that Hearthage so we can use it.”

“Well, the Power there could be stabilized and amplified if we had Poulis’s Tear while we fixed the place enough for you to open a stable portal to where Nezzar's imprisoned.” Tsemetso's eyes caught hers and she tremored with giddy anticipation. She so enjoyed the plot and plan.

“So you're saying we need aBn-sauce for the planet?” Ravin propped a red eyebrow as he looked to his fellow general.

“Precisely.”

“We’d also need a few candles to go with that Tear so charts don’t go flying off like what happened to you.” She gave Tsemetso a once over and he rolled his eyes. “Agents hunt candles. If we could occupy them, move them around, orchestrate their movements; we could use them to pick up a few. They like to hunt brigands, rogues, ne'er do wells, in the utility of their Kings and Kadifs, but their real focus are men lost in the throes of magecraft. What if we extended our operation and make perfect slaves of those men?” She licked at her canines as she slowly spoke through her forming ideas.

“Magi fought against that once already.” Ravin rejected.

“Well, of course, Vim was an idiot. If you chain a man he knows he's a slave. If you give him free roam he'll give you his life.”

“Sympathy was all this new formula was supposed to be made for. Not magi enslavement. My brother is not going to adjust that formula.” Tsemetso hummed in slight disapproval.

“It’s no longer up for discussion. Now. Speaking of a Chain, I'll also need Rennosu to assist me in this. Considering we’ll need to tether the mountains to the sea up north. Fetch him for me will you, Ravin.” Gwynerh was solid on it all now and smiling.

“Send him. He’s a pixie. He can talk to that point-ear better than I can.”

She sighed and looked toward the beautiful one seething with anger under his hood. “Would you, Tsemetso?”

“Kyukgan don’t like people poking around in their waters.”

“You’re blended, both. He trusts you.”

Tsemetso sighed very hard. “I don’t understand why I’m always the one at the end of something pointy. Don’t you people remember I’m—oh, nevermind.” Tsemetso rose to leave with a heavy groan. “I suppose you’ll need some candles as well?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“The burden of being a genius.” He scoffed and glared back toward the table as he left.

“I don’t understand, Lady. What are you thinking of doing?” Keifer asked.

“Knitting a very...large...quilt.” And she scoffed as she eyed all the Grui hanging around.