"Perfect! Snake people." Berthold called out, looking down on the encampment that surrounded the city.

Trekking through the desert proved slightly more manageable than expected. I crafted a fabric blend using the tundra-silk to keep myself and Berthold cool through the desert climate. Unsurprisingly, Nev wasn't interested, opting instead for what could only be described as a tube top made entirely of cactus. I questioned their comfort, but it didn't bother them, so I left it alone. Bert was far more interested in Nev's fashion choices and, despite their rebuffs, continued to compliment their appearance.

A small scrap of tundra-silk woven into my food bag kept my goods from spoiling. But the pièce de résistance had to be our living quarters. At about midday, I would assemble a tent when the sun was at its highest point. An outer layer with heat resistance kept the sun from getting to us. While the inner sanctum was crafted with the bulk of our tundra-silk, creating a perfectly cooled environment. Any world was garbage that didn't have central air. I was glad to fix that problem early on.

But as it turned out, the elements weren't our biggest obstacle. People were.

Specifically, thousands of people gathered around the city of Dulcrois to worship the God Aramaz. Who, apparently, our newest party member did an incredible job of pissing off.

"You guys have to sneak me in." Berthold requested.

"What? I know they're looking for you, but do they even know what you look like?" I replied.

"Some people, maybe? I don't know, but I'm not trying to risk it either."

"Just put your hood on. I doubt anyone will even talk to us. You'll be fine." Nev said.

We struggled to find a break in the crowd and eventually decided to simply cut through the encampment. Strangers changed from telling stories, laughing, and celebrating with one another to alert, focused on our very presence.

"Halt friends," a voice called through the crowd of gatherers.

She was a large woman, wrapped in green and black leather, with a sword larger than my entire body strapped across her back. We stopped as she approached, unsure of our expectations.

"I assume you have an offering prepared?"

"Of course," I replied. "How else would we get in."

"Right, right." She laughed. "Then hand it over."

"No," Nev replied.

"I get it. You're new here, so I'll let that one slide." She slid the massive blade off her back as it sunk slightly into the sand. "See, there used to be only one payment to get into the city. But that changed recently. Now you have to make an offering to the city of knowledge and the God of knowledge."

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"Or?" Nev asked.

"Or," the giant replied, gripping the hilt of her blade.

The onlookers seemed no longer content with just watching. Some had formed a tight circle around us while others still focused intently from a distance. Several others drew their blades while I attempted to think of a solution. I could see Nev's fist clutching in anger, knowing that her fuse would run out shortly.

"Follow my lead," Berthold whispered from behind us both.

He jumped atop a table several children were tossing dice onto and shouted to the crowd surrounding him.

"Attention all! Aramaz be praised on this joyous day!" His intro seemed to lighten the mood of a few in the crowd.

He received a few murmurs in response.

"Excellent!" He said, fishing something out of his comically large bag. "I hold a genuine copy of Brief Records of the Early Cycle in my hands. There were only three in existence. One was burned at the start of the Delian Wars. One is kept in the Serpentine Tower, a vast distance away. And one was stolen by a thief ten years ago. With respect to sharing knowledge between followers of Aramaz, I have this to say..."

The crowd gathered around as the circle around us tightened. The anger and suspicion had left the faces of the group, replaced unquestionably by greed.

"Fetch," he said while limply throwing the book back towards the direction we entered from.

The crowd panicked immediately, everyone lurching forward to get their hands on this precious piece of history.

"Aw, I hadn't finished reading that yet," I said before Nev pulled me deeper through the crowd.

Berthold had jumped from table to table quickly, making it past the gaggle of devout knowledge seekers. He landed at the end of the encampment, closer to the gates of Dulcrois, with a massive shit-eating grin across his face.

"Hurry up!" Berthold laughed, watching us push against the crowd of people.

"Look out!" Nev shouted back, but by then it was too late.

The giant had shoved him back first onto the ground.

"You would certainly know about a thief taking one of our most prized texts, wouldn't you? Berthold Lauer."

"I was hoping you wouldn't recognize me," he said clutching his side.

"Even if I didn't, you think I would've let someone who handed over this lost text just run away?" She laughed, bringing her massive blade high above her head.

Berthold grafted another leg and kicked futilely against the sand. Even with a third leg he struggled to gain any traction against the ground's fine particles. As the giant dropped her blade it gained momentum with every inch it traveled until finally sinking into flesh, blood spattering against the ground.

Nev stood between the two arms uplifted and completely coated with layers of cacti from the surrounding area. The pins jetted up, puncturing the giant's stomach and arms. The follower of Aramaz seemed unbothered, however, as she continued to lean into the strike.

"Mercy, I need you!" Nev called out.

"Right!" I replied as their words broke through my daze of indecision.

I slipped to the side of Nev and the giant woman, placing my hands along her massive blade. I focused, knowing that any failure meant certain death. Following my instincts, I broke down the weapon into long strands of grey wire, then offered them guidance. They moved slowly, wrapping themselves first around the giant's hands, clutching them to the hilt. The cable wrapped itself around her until she lay utterly immobile in the sand.

"Hey!" She shouted out to her fellow followers. "Help me! Hurry!"

A grouping had formed where the text had landed. An older man sat atop a chair stacked on top of tables while a crowd gathered patiently around him.

"Eons before the modern age, one hundred Numina clashed for supremacy-" the old man started.

"Hush now, m'lady. Don't want to ruin our offering." Berthold said to the restrained woman while feigning a curtsey.