With a yelp, Callan sat upright. Then immediately regretted that decision. Pain wracked his body, which made him suck in a sharp breath, which in turn left him in a fit of coughing. Several minutes passed before he managed to rein it in.

Only then did he notice his surroundings. He was in a dimly lit room, the air cool but not uncomfortably so, with a few cracks of light coming through the boards over his head. A thick rug lay between him and the packed dirt floor. The walls were also dirt, and several had shelves full of plain crockery on them. Bags of some rough material were stacked in a corner, and across from him, a simple wooden ladder reached all the way to the ceiling.

Of other occupants, he could see none, but a creaking from overhead made him think someone must have heard his wheezing. The creaks steadily moved in the direction of the ladder.

A moment later, the wood paneling above the ladder pulled away, and a burst of light showed through, almost blinding him. As Callan squinted through his fingers, a figure rapidly descended the ladder and approached him.

It was a young girl, close to his own age. Callan thought she might have been the same one he’d seen before he collapsed, but he’d been so out of it at the time he couldn’t quite recall. Her hair was black and straight, and her skin was a dark olive color. When she smiled at him with a mouth of dazzling teeth, he couldn’t help but smile back.

Then he realized that the girl also had four arms. He blinked, but they didn’t disappear. At least she only had one head, so that part must have just been his imagination.

“You’re awake,” the girl said at last.

Callan tried to speak, but the words just came out as a rough cough. The girl turned and pulled an earthenware jug from a shelf, uncorked it, then handed it to him. “Here, drink.”

Taking a hesitant swig, Callan was pleasantly surprised to find it was just ordinary water.

As he drank, the girl watched him warily. She started to back up. “I need to alert the elder. Don’t... Stay here. Please?”

With that, she darted back up the ladder and disappeared. The trapdoor swung shut behind her with a bang.

Well, that was interesting, Xeph said, surprising Callan and almost making him spill his water. She seemed nervous. Although I doubt it is directed at us, it is difficult to say for certain. I wonder why?

Callan finished drinking and set the empty jug down. “Hey Xeph. I’m so touched by your concern over my condition. I mean, it’s not like I almost died fighting that dvorak, or anything.

Yes, yes. I am glad you have recovered as well, mortal. It would have been a tragedy for our journey together to have ended so abruptly after it began. Now, we have important matters to see to.

“Hmm.” Callan twisted about to study his surroundings a little better, and only then noticed his left arm was tied up in a sling. There were also bandages wrapping most of his chest. Of his new shirt he saw no sign, but at least the girl had left him with his pants.

And I just got that outfit, too, he thought, chagrined.

“Do these important matters involve explaining why I just saw a person with four friggin arms?” he asked, pushing the rug covering him aside and rising to his feet. His vision swam for a moment before steadying.

What, you mean the girl? She’s one of the lud, obviously.

“Oh, right. Obviously.”

There was a moment of silence, and then a jolt of excitement ran through Callan’s body. The lud! They were the first race that my fellow gods created from humanity. It’s all coming back to me now. The lud, created from mud, we used to say. They’re incredibly hardworking and dedicated. Worthy followers for a god of stone and mountain, wouldn’t you say?

“Sure.” Callan knew he should have been growing accustomed to the gaps in the god’s knowledge by now, but apparently it was still taking some getting used to. “Wait, did you say you created them from humans?”

Of course! All of the elevated races were formed from human stock, to better serve the needs of my fellow deities. After all, if there is a task that one desires to be completed, one needs the correct tool to properly accomplish it.

“Not entirely sure how I feel about you calling me a tool, Xeph." Callan shook his head. “Any other races I should know about?”

Hmm. There are the veloom, the rutain, the lilish, the... ah... hmm.

Callan waited a moment, but when the god lapsed into silence, attempted a gentle prompting. “Remember anything about them in specific?”

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Give me a moment, mortal. Let me see...

Before Xeph could further uncompress his memories or whatever, Callan heard footsteps overhead again. He thought about covering back up with the blanket to feign weakness, then decided against it. Whoever these people were, if they meant him ill, they’d had plenty of opportunity to do far worse than locking him in a basement.

The trapdoor lifted again, and the girl began descending, followed this time by an older man with a white beard. Like the girl, he also had olive skin and four muscular arms, which he used to quickly reach the basement floor.

Only once they were standing in front of him did Callan realize how short they both were. The girl only reached up to his hip, and the older man not much further.

The older man studied him a moment before turning to the girl. “Where did you say you found him again, Kivi?”

“On the edge of the village.” The girl, Kivi, studied him as well. At least her expression was no longer nervous. More... hopeful? Callan couldn’t exactly say why, but that was the impression he got.

“Hmm. And how do you know his injuries aren’t from the cult? They might take offense if they find out we’re sheltering him.”

“The thought did occur to me, elder Tervak, but does it matter?” Kivi’s expression hardened. “If he’s their enemy, then that makes him our ally. Sheltering him is the least I would do to oppose them.”

Tervak reached out and squeezed the girl’s shoulder in a fatherly way. “Your dedication is admirable, Kivi, but it does us no good if you get yourself killed.”

“Um, excuse me.” Both of the lud glanced back at Callan when he spoke. “Hi, sorry, I’m afraid I’m not from around here. What is this cult you’re talking about?”

“Ah, forgive our rudeness, honored stranger.” Tervak bowed lowed, and a moment later Kivi hastened to follow. “We are referring to the priests of the goddess Zavastu, she who rules the western Badlands.”

Hmm. Xeph’s voice rumbled in the back of Callan’s head like a small rockslide. I do not recognize the name of this divine. They must have risen to power sometime after I withdrew from the Outerworld.

Callan frowned at that. “Another god?”

It would appear so. This village, and much of the Badlands, appears to be under her sway. We may find it more difficult to recruit followers than I hoped.

That also sounded rather discouraging to Callan. They needed at least a few more followers pronto, to head off any further symptoms of his cancer. Still, that wasn’t reason to give up hope yet. If nothing else, it didn’t sound like these lud were on particularly good terms with the goddess. There might be some recruitment opportunities yet.

“Forgive me,” Tervak said, interrupting Callan’s train of thought. “Did you say ‘another’ god? Are you not a follower of Zavastu?”

Before Callan could answer, Kivi grabbed him by the shoulders, a frenzied light coming into her eyes.

“Which god or goddess? Is it one opposed to Zavastu’s rule? Is that why you are here? Are you a priest looking to foment rebellion?”

“Uh, yes. I mean, no. I’m not a priest, and I’m not here to start any rebellions.” Kivi practically deflated at his words, so Callan added, “I’m an avatar.”

Careful, mortal, Xeph cautioned. We should not reveal too much until we better understand the situation.

“Little late to tell me that now,” Callan muttered. He watched the two lud. Kivi’s frenzied expression had returned, but Tervak was watching him warily, as if Callan were a strange dog who might either lick his hand or try and bite it off.

“Pardon the boldness of this request, stranger, but can you prove that you are what you say you are?”

“Umm...” Callan glanced between the two lud. Lifting up his good hand, he activated Mountainform. Immediately a layer of stone formed, spreading out of his palm until it wrapped all the way to his wrist. Interestingly, he didn’t sense anything forming on his bandaged hand. Apparently, the ability was clever enough to know not to interfere with his healing.

Tervak’s eyes went wide. “I see. That settles it, then.”

“It’s an answer to our prayers, elder!” Kivi grasped the other lud’s hand and crushed it in her own. “Finally, we have a way to stand against the cult, to chase them from our village forever! I knew there was something special about him.”

“Hold on, Kivi. We don’t know if the avatar would even want to involve himself in our village’s problems.” Out of the corner of his eye, the elder glanced at Callan. “Something tells me he isn’t out here in the Badlands merely for our benefit.”

“Actually—” Callan began.

“In any case, even if he were willing to aid us, the price might be higher than the village can bear. What is the point of resisting if we merely trade one shackle for another?”

“Any shackles would be better than those Zavastu has chained to us!” Kivi countered, releasing the elder’s hand. “More children will starve if we continue to do nothing. More elders like yourself will be beaten and left for dead. I refuse to spend the rest of my life toiling away merely to line the pocket of some goddess I’ve never even seen before!”

“Excuse me, could you—” Callan tried again.

“We need not endure this forever. Eventually the cult will leave us in peace.”

“And how many of us will they take as slaves when they do? You speak of shackles, but we might all soon wear them in truth. Whatever this avatar asks of us, it cannot be worse than what we have endured already!”

“You don’t know what you are speaking of, Kivi. You have never witnessed the depravities of the north. Some of the gods that dwell in the green lands would make Zavastu seem like a saint.”

“Which is why we need to strike now! While we have the advantage of familiarity and distance! Speak with the other elders, call a vote if you must.”

“I will not argue village politics with—”

“Enough!” Both lud went silent and turned to look at Callan, who was surprised enough himself at how forcefully his shout came out that it took him a moment to collect himself. He gave a quick cough, then said in a more normal voice, “Look, I think you two had better explain what’s going on here. You said this goddess controls this whole area. Are you not her followers too?”

Kivi and Tervak glanced at each other. Eventually it was the girl who spoke. “The cult of Zavastu has ruled over the western Badlands for nearly twenty years. Did you... not already know that?”

“I’m, ah, not from around here.” Heeding Xeph’s advice, he decided to keep the particulars of both his and the god’s origin secret for the moment. “I know that I’m in the Badlands on the southern end of Urslang, but that’s about it.”

“I see.” Kivi glanced at the elder again, and after he gave an encouraging nod, continued, “Then you should know, honored avatar, that we are not followers of Zavastu. We’re her prisoners.”