Ah, the fresh ocean breeze… when isolated on a floating funeral pyre with two violent lunatics and a paladin… nothing like it, fortunately.

We understand that Uldran Underwaves is beautiful this time of year and we are considering going there. Any information you could give us in advance would be appreciated, but you are undoubtedly very busy.

For now, our travels have taken us to Rasheed as previously reported. We will go see the sights and visit the Family and report back within the week.

I attach this lovely gift I saw at a marketplace. It’s tarnished silver and made me think of you because of both the faint reek and the fact that it is literally sharp all over. I have no idea what it does other than look interesting.

See, that’s the great thing about having lost everything. There’s a single-minded focus that goes along with that state of being; having nothing left to really worry about.

I will let you know how things progress when they do.

Arne quickly reread the report to The Vampire and felt it was perfectly fine, so he folded the paper up around the bizarre object which he then threw into a small bag and handed to the courier clerk who sealed the package with a wax seal and gave him a signed paper copy of the mark in the wax. Arne paid with some of the money he had spent the morning stealing. The report would be sent with a caravan and be in Arabesk in roughly four weeks’ time at the fastest, but that was not really in his power to have an opinion on. The Vampire had known that distances might be an issue, hadn’t she? And yet she had given them no means of communicating with her directly.

Rasheed, the city they were in, was surrounded on all but the ocean side by thick forests of creeping vines and dark green trees that weren’t palms like he was used to from Arabesk. He was used to the soft, droning din of the ocean heard as the backdrop to everything happening in the city back home, but here the ocean was not alone in din’ing. Something buzzed in the lush trees surrounding the city. Incessantly and loudly. And then there was the rain he had gotten caught in just before coming into the store.

In a matter of minutes, a blue sky had turned a threatening shade of yellow and lead and then heavy rain had pelted the city of Rasheed with its tall wooden towers and oddly carved buildings. And everyone had gotten off the winding, peculiar streets to huddle inside. It had taken Arne by surprise, and he happily stood in the middle of the street in the warm, still air and let the rain soak him as any sensible Arabeskian would during the few moments of rain the city got.

It was a welcome luxury in the constant uncertainty of being out of his element in foreign places where he knew no fences, had no contacts, didn’t know the rules or the layout of the city, had no safehouses or known routes anywhere… and he had nothing to go home to.

The rain had abruptly stopped as he slowly made his way back to the grotty tavern at the docks where they kipped in separate rooms; Dia and Arne had both been desperate for time alone, but Toog was completely serene and unaffected by the long journey and close quarters at sea.

When they had arrived at Rasheed yesterday morning, Garrett had been met at the docks by a representative of the chapterhouse of Justice, and they had quickly departed for the better end of town after Garrett promised to send word as quickly as he was able. Arne had just nodded, exhausted from the long journey and from having had to risk letting Dia drain him of energy almost to the point of collapsing three times underway in lieu of murder to keep Chuckles silent for a brief period of time and keep Dia’s fury at her hobo-free confinement in check. …And of course, twice-cursed Sir high and mighty Garrett of Justice had to go find him when he was flopping around and could barely breathe.

Just thinking about it made Arne want to kick himself, or rather, kick Dia for needing the rush to silence Chuckles and kick Garrett for being a paladin whose help they needed so they couldn’t just risk bringing a damned hobo or two onboard. Frustrated, and still feeling the sting of the humiliation, he decided to pickpocket his way through the marketplace nearby to divert his attention from grinding his teeth in annoyance. Embarrassing as it still was to have to pick pockets like a common street thief, at least it beat having a mystified paladin feel sorry for you.

Arne returned to the tavern just as an oppressive, moist midday heat hit the city, as vile and thick as the post orgy funk at the temple of Debauchery. When he came up to the narrow hallway running the length of the building, he saw that Toog’s door was open and slowed his step on instinct.

“Oh, thank you, yes, I’m just organising them for later. I was so busy on the ship I didn’t get around to it,” Toog’s voice sounded.

There was silence for a moment. “So this…” Garrett’s voice faltered.

Arne frowned. The man was supposed to send word at some point, not just show up, and certainly not a mere day after their arrival. Couldn’t he just give the ‘proven scoundrels’ some time to themselves? He suppressed an annoyed sigh.

“What is that? No, that one,” Garret clarified.

The sound of papers rustling followed. “Oh, that’s part of twinned Dia’s inner reproductive organs. Unsurprisingly, those are normally outside the scope of my studies, since people can easily live without them, and they definitely do not tether life. Odd, when you think about it, that the organs that allow us to perpetuate our kind aren’t actually important to sustained life…” Toog mused. “Of course, the twinned death crab versions of people only had nominally functional reproductive organs, I assume they might be capable of engaging in sexual intercourse to seem more lifelike if they had to, but I’m honestly not sure. Oh, and the other organs were just a jumbled mess. Look!”

More paper rustled and Arne assumed Toog had shown some more sketches to the paladin.

“Ehm…” Garrett said.

“Yeah… that’s what I said when I opened the first one up, too. It’s just a mess, and I can’t help wondering why they were made this way. I mean, people die all the time and get opened up for a variety of reasons, not just scientific ones. It’s a dead giveaway, right? It’s almost like the Primordials want to be caught with their sloppy work.”

Arne tiredly shook his head. He would have to go in there and figure out what was going on. He sighed and gently tiptoed to his door just before Toog’s, so he could lock the morning’s acquisitions away before meeting with the damned paladin. He had just checked the small string he had left in the clunky lock to see if anyone had broken in in his absence and opened his door when Dia’s door down the hall was torn up.

Dia stomped out, clearly annoyed. She wore what Arne assumed was a white funeral dress, or at least what would have been so in Arabesk. It was remarkably well suited to her lithe frame and complemented her dark skin beautifully. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him. “You are making stupid-noises in my ears and also, Arne is eavesdropping,” she snapped loudly and stomped into Toog’s room.

Arne sighed tiredly. Not even a whole, uninterrupted day to himself. Not even one…

He put his skill-gotten gains in the small clothing chest and rearmed the ink trap before closing the lid again. Then he went into Toog’s room.

Dia was loudly letting Garrett know about …some Dia thing, and Toog was sitting cross-legged on the floor sorting through a huge mass of anatomical sketches, text and pictures of animal masks and altars. Garrett looked almost relieved to see Arne.

“I understand how you feel, believe me, please,” Garrett told Dia. “But I am here as a courtesy, since I have an appointment with a scholar in about two hours and I thought you three might have a lot more to ask him than I will alone.”

“What is this scholar supposed to help with?” Arne asked as Dia, exasperated, threw her hands up in the air and dropped down on Toog’s bed, ignoring them.

“Commander Teya of the Rasheed Chapterhouse thought we needed outside expertise on the …Primordial Powers, since apparently there are some stories here in Rasheed, that we don’t know of in Estrin. This scholar is supposed to be knowledgeable in some ancient languages and texts that might be relevant to us,” Garrett said.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Arne sighed. “Do paladins get paid?” he asked.

Garrett raised an eyebrow quizzically and Arne refused to elaborate and crossed his arms.

“Why do you ask, exactly?”

“Because you are going to feed us first. Or me, at least. We used all our money on the journey here and we have no means of sustaining ourselves.”

“I didn’t,” Dia commented, still staring into the ceiling from her place on Toog’s bed.

“I never got paid for the job with the rats, actually,” Toog added, still sorting sketches and diagrams.

“See,” Arne said. “We’re poor.”

“I see,” Garrett sighed. “So, your rooms here, I assume the proprietor lets you stay here for charity?”

“Nah, that’s because Dia threatened him,” Toog said conversationally, still not looking up.

“I can eat,” Dia added.

Arne grinned at Garrett. “We have to make a list of questions we need answers to before we go meet wi–“

“Oh, gods, not another list!” Dia groaned.

“It didn’t work anyway, remember?” Toog added and held up a sketch of a wooden wedge driven into an exposed bone to remind Arne of the torture session with the death crab twinned priestess.

“It did work! We got the information we needed because we weren’t just making it up as we went along!” Arne snapped. “The situation around the list of questions changed, but what we needed to know didn’t!”

“I am, surprisingly, in favour of a list as well,” Garrett said.

“Ass-lizards,” Dia interjected and got off the bed. “If I can’t have silence, then I will at least have food.”

o-0-o

Garrett knocked on the heavy wooden door with the carving of an octopus at the end of the corridor.

“Piss off!” came a low, rumbling voice from inside.

Toog laughed.

“Hey, we are here to talk to you!” Dia snapped loudly. “We don’t want to be here either.”

Arne gently retreated a few steps down the hallway. There was a short sprint to an alcove that might offer some protection in case Dia happened.

“I’m Sir Garrett of the temple of Justice. I was told the commander of the chapterhouse had made an appointment.”

“No!” the voice from inside bellowed angrily and heavy footsteps were heard before the door was torn up and a tall human man with a large greying beard and severe dark clothing stared angrily at them. “If Teya thinks she can just send me a message and call that an appointment, then fuck off and tell her it doesn’t work like that! I’m not one of her little toy soldiers, she’s not in charge of my godsdamned time and she never has been!” he bellowed.

Garrett stood completely calm and unflinching while the man yelled. “I will let her know, perhaps in less colourful language. But before we go, we really need to speak to you on an urgent matter, please.”

“Shuku ayi tsobet penga gol husheh!” the angry man exclaimed and slammed the door in the paladin’s face.

Arne burst out laughing and Dia whirled around to stare at him. “You understood that?” she asked, almost without her customary annoyance.

“Sure,” Arne grinned, as all three of them turned to stare at him. “You did too, right?”

“Then what’s penga?” Dia asked suspiciously.

“Male genitalia, erect,” Arne explained and grinned at Garrett. “And I’m putting it that politely because we are at a house of words, which the Khemmen honour. He was telling you what your mother does in her spare time, in case you don’t speak Kaian,” he added for Garrett’s benefit.

“Well, where the paladin fails, Charm has us covered,” Toog said with a shrug and pointed at the door.

Garrett gave him a small bow and moved aside, and Arne couldn’t figure out if he was being deeply sarcastic or just enjoying the situation somewhere deep and clandestine in the glaring light of his secret paladin soul. Maybe both.

Arne knocked again, just once. “The race of beings known as the Primeval Powers are about to break out of their prison and we need to know as much about them as we can,” he said in Kaian, the language of the elves who termed themselves Khemmen.

“Kittleshit!” came the bellowed reply from inside.

“Nope. You honestly think I’d stand here and try to appeal to the angriest man in the world if I had options?” Arne asked and sidestepped to stand next to the doorway in case the angry scholar was going to rip the door open and headbutt someone, which seemed a distinct possibility. “I ask you in Kaian’s name, speak with us, the paladin will buy drinks. At least tax their expenses account if you won’t do it to help save the world.”

Next to Arne, Dia giggled. The sound upset him deeply, but then the door was torn up and the scholar stood there glaring angrily at them. He was considerably smaller and thinner than his booming voice had suggested. But no less angry. He pointed at Arne who pushed off the wall and brushed his sleeve off. “So, what about it?”

“Not many people speak Kaian. Where did you study?” the man demanded.

Arne considered the truth for a shocking moment, but decided on: “I’m from Arabesk, the city of the five academies. All kinds of languages can be learned there for the right price.”

The big man swivelled his gaze to Dia with her pointed ears. “So not from her?”

“What, you think I’d find me an elf for my pillow to help me practice substantive prefixes?”

“You are aware I actually understand you, right?” Dia snapped.

“You’re right, I apologise,” Arne said and looked at the scowling scholar.

“You are buying the drinks!” the scholar snapped at Garrett, switching back from Kaian. “And you are telling Teya to come see me in person if she ever wants anything from me ever again.”

“Agreed and agreed, thank you,” Garrett said with a polite nod.

o-0-o

“So, to summarise the angry man with the very specific knowledge,” Arne began as they walked back towards the tavern in the gathering dusk.

“I liked him,” Dia stated with a slight slur to her voice.

“I’m used to a lot of alchemical drugsies, as you know,” Toog added, unbidden. “But not really that used to alcohol.”

“Our paladin probably just kept paying for the rounds because he’s hoping we’ll get drunk and tell him something we shouldn’t,” Arne said conversationally, smiling at Garrett.

Garrett smiled back. “I kept buying the rounds because that was the agreement with both our venerable scholar and you thee charming people.”

“Nah, it’s only Arne that’s charming,” Toog interjected. “After his lizard died.”

“So, to summarise,” Arne said, raising his voice. “Things like the Primeval Powers are old and nasty, but they cannot be present anywhere in any other realm than their own without a tether.”

“Originally, when they were here, they were beaten back by a coalition of elves and dwarves and a handful of deities,” Garrett added.

“Yes,” Arne continued. “We don’t know exactly who anymore, but a prison was built for them, and they were banished from the material realms, which is here, because their tether was broken.”

“So in case you are really right and this is our problem, we need to find their tether and destroy it,” Garrett stated. “Whatever it is that is enabling them to gain a foothold in this reality.”

“But wasn’t that what the cultists were doing?” Toog asked. “I mean, they are doing the whole twin death crab thing. Isn’t that sort of rather tethery?”

Dia snorted. “Told you we should have just killed them. Tether… pfff.” She stopped in her track as the group passed a dark alleyway. “Well, I will go get mugged now, don’t wake me up tomorrow or you will suffer my wrath.”

She began walking into the darkness of the grubby alleyway and Arne shrugged, deliberately caught Garrett’s gaze and quickly walked on. “No, trust me, Dia needs her private time.”

“She’s going to–“

“No, of course not. That’s a ridiculous thought!” Arne dismissed.

“Completely,” Toog confirmed as they walked down the street. “She just needed to pee.”

“Ah, is that why she said, ‘I’m going to go get mugged now’?” Garrett asked sceptically as Arne pressed him forward with a hand on his back.

“Sure, yes. That’s how Dia is, you know her,” Arne said casually. “So anyway, we should probably sleep on all those interesting facts about tethers holding the creatures on our …realm of existence and prepare to infiltrate the Family and meet its tentacles here, what do you say?”

“I say nice try to divert the paladin’s attention from the dodgiest person among you.” Garrett sighed. “We will meet tomorrow at sundown at your charity tavern and then I hope you have a plan for the Family. I will go and report to my superiors what we have learned.”

The paladin turned to walk back the way they had come from towards the better end of town.

“Garrett?” Arne asked.

Sir Garrett stopped in his tracks.

“Dia needs some time to herself. Please don’t go looking for her.”

Garrett just nodded. “I really shudder to think what could have scared all three of you so badly that you are all here together,” he just said and walked away.

Toog and Arne stared after him for a moment, then they both shrugged and kept walking towards the tavern by the harbour.

“So, you know how to speak an elf language? Do you know any elves then?” Toog asked. “I mean, Anger Guy did say we should ask some of the older races.”

“Nah. Nobody I can ask. Dia is somewhat elven, right? Would she say it if she knew it?”

“That would be a resounding maybe not,” Toog shrugged.

They fell silent for a while, as they passed a group of drunk sailors.

“Elves, right?” Toog finally said.

“Yes?”

“I mean, sure they live longer than humans tend to, but a couple of centuries aren’t that impressive. And we also don’t know any.”

“So what are you thinking?” Arne asked.

“Who is the oldest thing in the world that you can speak to?” Toog asked.

“Is that a sort of challenge or a joke or…”

“No, no. Just reality, for real.”

“Ehm, trees?”

“Right. I didn’t think about that. Except I don’t think trees talk a lot.” Toog looked at him, clearly puzzled.

Arne shrugged. “Then I have no idea.”

“Demons,” Toog said, matter-of-factly.

“…Demons.” Arne confirmed. “How do we get to talk to one of those, then?”

“No clue, but I have worked with enough death cult to know it can be done.”

“Interesting work experience. Does torturing for death cults pay well?” Arne asked conversationally.

“Surprisingly less so than one would think, actually. Most people don’t really think about revenue when they establish a death cult. It’s a real pity. A lot of them just sort of fizzle out in the first year.”

“I didn’t know that.” Arne sighed. “But you know what, I’m at least pretty sure the paladins aren’t going to go asking a demon, so at least we get to keep our information separate.”

Toog gave him a big smile. “Now we just have to find a summoner. How hard can that be?”