The old woman was barefoot and gaunt, with sallow white skin and wisps of grey hair on her balding head. She wore a dress of overlapping wooden shingles salvaged from the roof of a well-off family’s home.

And, for some reason, she was trying to beat down a door.

She muttered barely audible curses as she raised her wooden club and slammed it against the thick, black door.

The building she was trying to break into reminded me of a Sanctifier guildhall. Its walls were made of the same grey stone, untouched compared to the rest of the village's broken white clay buildings.

I raised my hand, signalling the party to stop as I peeked around the corner.

Castille dismounted, walking up behind me with surprising stealth.

"What is it?" She asked.

"You need to see this,” I said, waving her over to my position.

Castille peeked around the corner, observing the mad woman for a few moments before she spoke.

"Let me handle this."

Before I could stop her, she stepped from behind the building and walked across the street to the old woman.

"Hello, what are you doing?" Castille asked.

The old woman beat on the door two more times before she stopped and turned to look at Castille.

"What does it look like I'm doing? Trying to get inside!" The woman said.

"Why?"

"Supplies. Salvage."

She waved her club in a circle over her head.

"I already ransacked every other house in this village."

“You did all this?"

Castille swept her hand over the ruined village.

"Spirits, no, but I pitch in where I can."

Castille put her hands on her hips.

"My friends and I have goods to trade for information. What do you say?"

The old woman scratched at her chin hair.

"Friends? Like that elf around the corner? Some strange company you keep."

I pulled my head back behind the wall. How did she see me, let alone peg me as an elf from so far away?

"Aye, him and two more of my friends further back... You're one to call anyone strange,” Castille said.

"Hah! It's been too long since I had someone to trade insults with. My husband’s ashes were scattered to the wind more than two decades ago. Every other idiot in the village left the Dellends or went further north to Steeltown. Fools, the whole lot of them."

The woman spat at the mention of Steeltown.

"Come along… and bring your friends; I have tea and biscuits at my house."

I peeked around the corner.

Castille looked at me and nodded before walking away.

I got the message.

# # #

Dugan, Thor, Isla, and I caught up to the pair of women at the largest house in the village. The wall had collapsed around the front door, leaving a gaping entrance we could all walk through side by side. I hopped over the uneven rubble, finding the pair sitting at a round table. A fancy porcelain tea set was laid out on its wood surface, with the teapot full of water that smelled like it came from a chamber pot.

Castille kept a straight face as she watched the old woman take sips of the cloudy, yellow fluid. Castille's cup and a plate of moldy biscuits on the table were left untouched.

"Contaminated water," Isla whispered to me. "If she's been drinking water like that for years, no wonder she’s a little off."

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"A little?!" I said.

All eyes turned to me.

Was I too loud?

The old woman stared at me, looking me up and down like she was licking me with her eyes.

“Pretty thing, ain't you, elf. Oh, and look at that piece beside you. The Steeltowners would love to get their hands on you," the old woman said.

Isla tensed beside me, her hands tightening around her staff.

"Please, Mother Geslin, you're scaring the children," Castille said.

Mother Geslin eyed Castille with a quirked eyebrow.

"I haven't met a child that doesn't need a good scare."

Castille sighed, picking up her cup of tea and dashing the foul liquid over her shoulder.

“Isla!”

The young mage nodded, pointing at the Castille’s cup and filling it with clean water.

"Do I have your attention?" Castille asked.

Mother Geslin's eyes went as wide as saucer plates as she looked from the cup to Isla.

"Yes, I believe you do."

"Good. We need information. In return, we'll give you as much clean drinking water as you can carry. Deal?"

Mother Geslin stared at Isla with newfound reverence and nodded.

"First, what happened here?"

"The same thing that happened everywhere: the curse. We were on the outskirts of the Del, so we felt it last. It works slow. One day, you feel a bit tired. Next thing you know, babies are born wrong. Crops start spoiling. People get angry, violent, and more stupid than usual.”

“Is that why the buildings are broken?”

“Yeah! When the food shortages happened, people rioted."

She snorted.

"Like taking it out on the buildings would change anything. This used to be the headman's house, but he’s dead now, him and the rest of his family."

"And everyone left or went to this Steeltown, but you stayed here. Why?"

"Why?! Because I'm too weak to work the mines and too pretty to sell my body. Besides…”

She crossed her arms.

“This is my home."

That made my chest hurt. Whether it was a toxic farming village or a burned-out mansion, home was home.

Dugan walked up to the table, sliding off the moldy biscuits on the plate and laying out rations from Thor's saddlebags.

Mother Geslin licked her lips.

"And what’s home called?" Castille asked.

Mother Geslin frowned.

"South Run. No…”

She rubbed her temples.

“Southsun."

Castille nodded, taking a moment to sip from her cup. She scrunched up her face, the bottom of the cup still had residue from the foul water.

"What can you tell me about Steeltown?"

"Hrmph. It should be called Stealtown."

Mother Geslin reached for a piece of hardtack from the laid-out rations.

"In the old days, Steeltown was the place where they made steel from the iron mines under Brimspoke Mountains. Nowadays, steel is old news. It's all about gold. They say the mountains are filled with the stuff and every other kind of ore you can dream of. It’s terrible work, disturbing the spirits of the land like that—attracts all kinds of unsavoury types.”

Castille bit into her piece of hardtack.

“You're well informed for a woman in the middle of nowhere.”

“Caravans sometimes come this way. They trade supplies for good salvage.”

Castille nodded.

"Do they bring word of any big players in Steeltown?"

Mother Geslin frowned in concentration.

"They whisper about a few names: Lagos, Harwick and Kateen. The Lagos brothers are smugglers from Dahlgesh who smuggled themselves into Luskaine. Tiny Tom Harwick is a giant of a man. People say he can crush stones and skulls with his bare hands. And then there’s that Lady Kateen. She has deep connections with the merchants."

"And the nobles?" Castille asked.

"About as weak as a stream of piss. This land has belonged to the Vangraves for as long as I can remember. The current head of the family is a boy who never leaves his manor house. Smart kid. No one has respect for nobles that can't be mages."

Castille nodded before turning to the rest of the party.

"Do any of you have questions?"

Dugan shook his head.

I stopped to think. Castille had made the right move, gathering information before we reached Steeltown. Now I knew how dangerous this mission was.

Each player in the Dellends was benefitting from the curse. The lawlessness of the area allowed two Dahlgeshi, enemies of Luskaine, to operate in the open. The toxic environment allowed Lady Kateen to sell food, water and other essentials at whatever price she wanted. I didn't know what to make of this Tiny Tom, but he sounded like trouble.

Our only ally was a noble who was too weak to govern their lands. The Vangraves had to be the ones keeping the job request active. Becoming mages was the only way of evening the odds against the town’s other factions. If we wanted to break the curse, these factions would try to stop us. That was the angle that I didn't see back at the capital. For our quest to succeed, it had to be kept secret.

I had questions that could only be answered by going to Steeltown and seeing the place myself. I shook my head.

After a moment, Isla spoke barely above a whisper.

"I may have more questions for her later."

Mother Geslin’s stare lingered on Isla as she spoke to Castille.

"Word of warning. Make sure no one sees that one use magic. If they figure out she's a mage, they’ll kidnap her… and worse."

Isla's face turned a sickly green as she retightened her grip around her quarterstaff.

The act of kidnapping nobles and making them bear illegitimate children was highly illegal in Luskaine. It was a direct threat to the ruling class as these children, known as foulborn, diluted a noble family’s magical potential by adding more members to their bloodline. In a place as lawless as the Dellends, it made sense that this type of crime was more common.

While Mother Geslin stared at Isla, Castille and Dugan looked at me.

They didn’t need to tell me; I already knew. Mrs. Dulldrey gave me the talk when I became “Lady” Sin’s heir. The ideal targets to kidnap were young men. A male victim could create multiple foulborn in a short time and, more importantly, didn't need to be around for their births. Disposing of the male victim immediately was less risky than keeping a powerful mage captive for nine months. It also balanced out the number of family members in a bloodline.

From now on, Dugan, Isla and I could not be seen using Landbound magic. This quest was getting harder by the second.

Castille took one last sweeping glance over her party's mages. If she was concerned, it didn't show in her grey eyes.

"We look after our own, and I expect you not to share this information."

"Of course, do I look like a rat?"

Castille didn’t answer. Mother Geslin gave her a bitter smile.

"Oh, I like you. You can stay here for tonight. It's big enough, and there are stables at the side of the house."

Castille gave her a slight smile.

"Very generous of you. We accept."