The little stone was about the size of a golf ball, irregularly shaped, brown and grey in color. It actually felt like a stone to the touch, but when he held it in his hand he could feel the same sensation of power that he now recognized as the presence of magic.

Jiru had almost had a heart attack when the dead raptor-deinonychus-thingy had started to make choking, chortling noises. It's coming back to life, had been his first thought. Dinosaur Undead? Seriously?

But that hadn’t happened. Instead, the creature's eyes had remained shut, but its throat had swollen (as though it were about to throw up) and the very much still dead corpse had vomited a little bezoar stone out into the grass. Having cleaned it with a skin of water from his Storage, Jiru could see why these things were prized: not only was it magical, it was also aesthetically pleasing to the eye with a smooth shiny surface.

As per Zarhan's explanation, bezoars were imbued with mana and served as an energy source for several creatures that had magical abilities. Unlike mages, who regenerated mana from ambient magic around them (as Jiru understood it light, heat, air, etc. all had trace amounts of mana, enabling people to either absorb it directly or convert the source's energy into mana, or both), monsters could only regenerate mana through the food and water they ingested, converting it into not only energy for their bodies but also mana to be used later. This mana could usually only be stored in a physical object, namely, bezoars.

Bezoars back on Earth were accidents, small particles in the gastrointestinal system that accumulated into a singular mass over time. They either caused or were caused by health problems and could need anything between minor treatments to major surgeries. Here though, bezoars naturally formed in the stomachs of many monsters via one method or another and acted as organic mana batteries, which meant they could be used in many potions, spells and magical rituals. Enchantment stones were made from bezoars and could be used to add magical effects to items. And in a Living Lair, monsters killed were almost always guaranteed to vomit their bezoars out after death, like a dead person farting or releasing their bowels. Meaning you did not have to painstakingly butcher the carcass and root through the insides of the creature to (maybe) get your hands on it.

No wonder people risk their lives to raid Lairs.

On a hunch, Jiru pressed the stone against Darkfang's flat pommel, and smiled when he felt a tingling sensation that indicated the transfer of energy. So not only could the sword take the life force of those it killed, but the pommel's battery could absorb mana from bezoars as well. Although maybe that was not the best use for it? If the stones in question could be used for enchanting…

Jiru shrugged to himself and tossed the now-powerless stone into a pouch, in case he found a use for it later.

Walking around the boulder, he found the carcass that the three lizards had been feeding on: it was a grey-furred goat, with short blunt horns. It lay with its mouth open, very similar to the dinosaur, but there was no bezoar on the ground.

"They can feed on each other's bezoars," Zarhan said what he was thinking. "The ingested stone breaks down and makes the existing stone inside the creature more powerful. One reason why the strongest predator monsters have the most powerful bezoars."

So clearly one of the ones that had gotten away had a second stone inside it, out of his reach.

He took a few more minutes to attend to his injuries - the beast's claws had been savagely curved and sharp, and one of the scratches on his arm went into the muscle. He applied ointment to the wounds, bandaged them and wetted the bindings slightly with a healing potion (as per a book from his Storage called First Aid for Common Injuries by Master Surgeon Kirdan Banu, that had been given to him by the Guardians). Hopefully the talons had not had any venom or anything that would cause an infection.

Once again not having any idea where to go, he picked another random direction and started walking.

Three hours went by. Jiru walked slowly but steadily, through the rocky region and through a grassy plateau and then a forest, sipping water every now and then to keep up his strength. Illusory or not, the sun above him sure felt real, and progressively got hotter as it moved across the sky to its zenith. Just as he was thinking about taking a break and eating something, he spotted a clearing up ahead.

Alarm bells ringing in his head about witches that lived in gingerbread houses and cooked people in their ovens, he approached cautiously - and was right to exercise that caution.

It wasn't a small clearing - it was a large empty area in the middle of the woods, nearly the size of a cricket field. Perfectly flat, with not a single plant growing on the ground.

In the middle there was a throne. It was made from stone with a smooth dark surface, shining like black marble, beautiful and foreboding at the same time.

And seated on the throne was a tall figure.

The man wore a full set of heavy plate armor with a red tabard. He was hunched forward and unmoving, clearly dead, made even clearer by the fact that he had no less than five swords sticking out of his chest, each and every one buried so deep the blades were sticking out of his back.

Jiru stood at the edge of the clearing, debating to himself.

Mostly he debated how quickly he should run, and how far.

But there was this nagging sensation in the back of his head that wanted him to step forward and find out what this was all about. Was the Lair influencing him somehow?

The debate - and all its related questions - settled once and for all when the red figure moved.

It wasn't a quick movement, or an attack. Slowly, in no rush at all and as if waking up from sleep, the man raised his head.

And looked directly at Jiru.

It was a dead person, beyond doubt. The flesh of his face was pale blue, and his eyes were green with no pupils.

Jiru took a step back.

And then another.

He backed away until he was back among the trees and out of sight of the Undead, then turned and ran. He kept running until he was outside the woods, and only stopped to drink water and alleviate the exhaustion, which had left him heaving and panting.

Do I have to face that thing before I can leave this place? If that's the case, I'm screwed...

He walked for another hour before daring to stop for lunch: dried meat jerky, a large chewy biscuit with some kind of dry vegetable inside (a common travel ration - it was somehow cooked in a way that the stuffing did not spoil) and more juice. He was chewing on some dates to finish off the meal when six figures on horseback showed up.

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They were far away and small from this distance, but they were all ahorse - and they were looking right at him. A glint of sunlight from one of the figures told him at least one had a spyglass. Which meant they were not Lair monsters.

Sure enough, after a while, the riders began moving towards him at a steady trot. Jiru sat where he was, on a grassy slope overlooking a plain with lots of flowers and shrubs, watching them get closer. He made no move, and they slowed about fifty meters away to approach slowly, walking their mounts.

How did they get their horses in here? Was his first thought before realizing: Oh, those are magical mounts.

The horses in question had an unnatural quietness to them - no noise, no movements except to follow the rider's directions.

As if to confirm his suspicion, two of the mounts simply vanished, and their riders landed on the ground with a practiced ease that indicated they did this all the time.

The two now on foot were both human, a man wearing hard leather armor with a longsword and dagger on his belt, and a woman outfitted in a manner similar to roman legionnaires he had seen in movies. She wore that same skirt-like-thing, except it was black instead of red, her legs were not bare underneath but covered in tight black leggings, and instead of segmented roman armor she wore a potbellied steel hauberk - the curve of such armors helped deflect attacks, and this one was made of good steel and painted dark brown. She had a Spartan-style helmet on her head, a shortsword on a scabbard on the left side of her belt, a dagger on the right, steel vambraces on her forearms, boots with steel greaves on her feet, and a large round shield on her back.

The two of them approached slowly but surely. The guy put a hand on his sword but let the woman take lead; it seemed she was in charge.

The others still on horseback watched Jiru like hawks. One was clearly a wizard, a firasi in a robe wearing light hide armor with several pouches on his person, holding a staff embedded with a gem at the top. There was a human archer who had an arrow nocked, a dwarf woman with a crossbow whose horse also vanished to deposit her on the ground where she landed and covered Jiru with her weapon, and lastly another human with a longsword who also chose to stay on horseback. The wizard, crossbow woman and archer also wore shortswords as secondary weapons on their belts.

Jiru, still sitting on the grass, continued to chew as they closed on him, deliberately not making any movement that could be interpreted as a threat. He spat out a date seed as the lead woman and the longswordsman got within a few meters.

"The Ragged Blades?" He asked.

"Who's asking?" The steel-armored woman wanted to know.

"The mayor sent me. Which one of you is Raelia Dimar?"

"I am."

"I was asked to bring you a message."

"What message?"

He unlatched the small wooden chest from the weapon-harness - it was a relief to have the weight off of him - and held it up.

The woman took it from him, inspected it, and then held her fist against the box. More precisely, she pressed the black stone set on a ring on one of her fingers against a metal sigil on the lid. There was a click, as though something had unlocked.

She opened the chest, took out a letter, looked at the rest of the contents, frowned, handed the box to the longswordsman, and proceeded to break open the wax seal of the letter to read it.

Jiru started to chew on another date.

She read through the missive twice. Then she looked up at him, sighed, and swapped the letter for the box with the longsword guy.

"Why would the mayor trust you with this?" She asked.

"That's between me and the mayor."

"Care to explain, Raelia?" the firasi man asked. The tattoo-stripe-markings on him created a kind of cool swirling pattern on his left forearm and right cheek. (Each firasi's miralia was different, like a fingerprint).

"We need to get back. Sarketh's making his move against Arvane."

"Now? Why?"

"Don't know. Has something to do with this one." She gestured at Jiru - "We're supposed to keep him alive and bring him back under disguise."

"Under disguise?"

"It says here he's wanted by the City Guard." The longswordsman, who was now reading the letter, looked up as he spoke. "Is that true?"

"Yes," Jiru confirmed.

"Why?"

"That's between me and the City Guard."

The man smirked. "You like to keep things close to the vest, is that it?"

"That's between me and my vest." He smirked back.

"We can't just leave," The wizard interrupted to declare. "The Lair won't simply let us out."

"I know." Raelia replied. Then to Jiru: "What's your name?"

"Jiru Vanchi Rama."

"You know how to use that sword?"

"Learning as I go." He smiled.

"Great," The crossbow woman's voice was dripping with sarcasm, "now that's confidence."

Jiru ignored her. So did Raelia.

"Well, get your ass up off the ground if you're coming along." She snapped.

"Really? We're babysitting a greenie now?" That was the other longswordsman, the one on the horse.

Jiru responded by taking the opportunity to spit again, sending the seed of the date he'd been chewing a good ten feet.

"It's part of the job - and we're not doing it for free." Raelia tossed the now-closed chest to the mounted warrior, who caught it, looked inside, and raised an eyebrow.

"Sarketh must really be in trouble," He remarked.

"He is," Jiru confirmed.

"What happened to Saren?"

"Who?"

"One of ours. He didn't come with us, so he's in Everwatch right now."

"Don't know." Jiru shrugged as he got up from the ground, dusting himself off.

"Is the mayor all right?" The wizard, apparently, was the only one who gave a shit.

Jiru shrugged again. "Might be his ego took a scratch, but that's it."

The swordsman on horseback had tossed the little chest to the crossbow woman, who checked the contents, and now passed it to the wizard, who peeked inside, nodded, and put it away in a pouch that was far too small to contain it. "All right, I say we keep going. We were already running out of time, and this makes it even more so."

"I agree." The swordsman on foot said, giving the letter back to Raelia. "I say we bring the greenie if that's what Sarketh wants. What did you say your name was again?"

"Jiru Vanchi Rama."

"I'm Arrin. That's Vakrun," (he gestured at the mounted sword guy) "This is Lira," (the crossbow woman dwarf), "Relvan," (the human archer who had remained silent so far) "and this is our mage, Zinathir."

Jiru nodded at each introduction in turn. Relvan and Zinathir nodded back, Lira and Vakrun did not.

"Quick question," Raelia said, "Have you seen a knight with five swords on him somewhere around here, by any chance?"

A long silence followed. Jiru's shock must have shown on his face, because Raelia, Arrin and Zinathir all figured it out.

"I'll be damned," Raelia chuckled. "You have, haven't you?"

"Seriously?" Arrin asked. "Where?"

"Back that way." Jiru stuck a thumb over his shoulder. "You sure you want to go looking for him, though?"

"We have to. He's the next part of the puzzle."

"What puzzle?"

"What is this, your first time in a Lair?"

Another long silence lingered. The members of the warband exchanged looks.

"Green shit." Lira snapped.

"We'll explain on the way." Raelia said. "Zin, give him a horse."