Vex’sakan’ilopupanawa, a terrifying blue slaad that had spent most of its life in fighting in the chaotic battles that swept through Limbo, fidgeted anxiously with the dented crown clutched delicately in its deadly claws. While the hulking abomination twisted the damaged crown, it stared at the stone floor, refusing to look up and meet Dalthan’s eyes. Several heartbeats passed with neither figure breaking the silence that weighed on the room with a suffocating pressure.

“Does that mean I can keep my sparkly hat?” Vex croaked hesitantly, not lifting its black eyes from their study of the seamless stone floor.

Dalthan sighed and lifted his wide-brimmed hat from the table. As he spoke, the [Rogue] idly brushed his fingers across the bright orange feather tucked into the hat band.

“Yes, Vex.” The thief put his hat on and shifted it until its brim was skewed in an artful tilt. “You can keep the fucking crown. You watched me pay for the damn thing.”

Shortly after the other members of their crew, save Shale, left to take care of last-minute preparations, a certain dragoness sauntered into Dalthan’s room. Wreathed in her smokey black robe and puffing on a long-stemmed pipe, Polly informed the [Rogue] that his free time at the Pleasure Palace had come to an end and she expected him to either pay up or vacate the premises by the end of the day. The conversation had gone smoothly enough, with Dal thanking her for her hospitality and promising for a longer, more expensive, visit in the future.

Everything was cordial and polite until the tall woman noticed the dented crown atop Vex’s head. She’d then informed Dal of the impeccable craftsmanship that went into the idiotic prop as if it were an actual piece of royal regalia. Polly had bemoaned the damage done and fretted over how she could ever find someone to replace the hideously opulent accessory.

Dalthan knew a shakedown when he heard it. Instead of arguing with the dangerous dragon on her home turf, the thief politely offered to buy the crown. In hindsight, it was not the best negotiating move he could have made.

A few minutes later the polymorphed dragon happily walked out of the room with all of Dalthan’s money. The greedy fucking lizard had taken every single black coin in his pouch.

At least he’d made her throw in the fur-lined cape Vex wore as part of a package deal.

If he were a better man, he’d likely feel they were coins well spent as he watched the blue slaad gurgle happily as it shuffled around in a circle with the fake crown held triumphantly above its head. Unfortunately, Dal was still trying to adjust to being ‘good.’ Instead of being happy for his partner, his thoughts were consumed by wanting to find someone to stab.

Or someone to fuck. Either would be fine.

“I don’t have to worry about you telling anybody about this, right?” Dalthan cocked his head to the side, directing his gaze toward the silent [Stone Golem] standing against a nearby wall.

For the first time since the others had left, the construct moved. The large rock that sat atop Shale’s rounded body shifted in what could only be a nod. Dalthan returned the gesture, thankful that Zaplixel wouldn’t hear about Polly robbing him over that stupid crown.

Dal’s gaze returned to the happily dancing murder frog. “I don’t know where you’re going to keep that thing,” Dalthan grumbled sourly. “We don’t have time to go to your apartment and that damn dragon will probably charge me a storage fee if we try to leave it here.”

Vex’s awkward hopping stopped and the slaad turned quickly to face the [Rogue]. “I will keep it with me, Human Dalthan. How else will people know we’re the mighty rulers of a kingdom?”

The thief groaned and shook his head. “Vex, we’re not-”

“I’ll keep it in the darkness with the rest of my treasures!” So saying, Vex rushed across the room like a bull charging toward an overconfident wolf. Dalthan’s emerald eyes grew wide with alarm and the thief lifted his hands in an attempt to get the slaad to stop. Fortunately for the rogue, Vex’s charge came to an abrupt halt the moment the abomination touched his shadow and fell through the floor.

“Gods damnit, Vex.” Dal grumbled, leaning back against the table as he took a deep breath. “Don’t fucking scare me like that.”

The slaad’s head popped out of Dalthan’s shadow. “Why would you be scared of this blue slaad?” Vex croaked in puzzlement. Not waiting for an answer, the slaad lifted itself out of the shadow like a climber summiting a mountain peak.

Dalthan’s lips formed the beginning of a sharp reply only to press into a confused frown when he noticed that there was no sign of the crown or the cape that the slaad was wearing.

“Vex,” the [Rogue] began. “Where did your cape and crown go?”

The blue slaad let out a deep, vibrating croak. Dalthan had come to associate the rumbling bass as a sign of confusion. Likewise, the twitch of Vex’s claws made it seem like the slaad was trying to shred something that it didn’t understand.

“This blue slaad put the sparkly hat inside the darkness,” Vex spoke slowly, carefully enunciating each word the way one would when speaking to a child.

In another time and place, Dal might have considered relieving the murder frog of a kidney for talking to him like that. Fortunately for all involved, the thief’s mind was flooded with a sudden deluge of questions and ideas.

“Can you put anything in the darkness?” Dal asked, slightly reeling from the storm of possibilities offered by the newest example of magical bullshit.

“Yes?” Vex replied, clearly wondering if the [Rogue] had been bludgeoned with an idiot stick.

Dal’s green eyes flickered rapidly across the room while his mind churned. He needed a target and he needed to see how this nonsense worked. It was time to test the boundaries of what his new partner could do.

“There,” the thief said, pointing at the ornate chair Vex had used as a throne. “Put the chair in the darkness.”

To his credit, Vex only waited a moment before complying, as if to give Dalthan a chance to correct himself. When the thief merely offered the slaad an encouraging nod, Vex shuffled across the room with an excited gurgle bubbling up past its lips. In moments, the hulking frog lifted the chair as if it were made from wicker instead of thick pieces of solid oak.

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“My throne!,” the slaad said as it trotted back toward Dalthan.

The thief watched with bated breath as Vex approached. The slaad stepped into his shadow, just as it’d done before, and fell through the floor as if it’d just walked off the edge of a cliff. The chair in his arms seemed to twist in a way Dalthan had never seen before. It was like looking at the flat side of a dagger and then tilting it until all you could see was the thin edge. The sight filled the thief with a queasy feeling that nearly made him lose his lunch.

“Can you bring it back out, Vex? The thief asked in a stained voice as he averted his gaze from the shadow he cast across the floor.

The words were barely past his lips when the slaad erupted from his shadow with the gaudy chair in his arms.

“Make up your mind, Human Dalthan.” There was an edge to the murder frog’s guttural voice and Dal didn’t particularly like the way its black eyes were staring at him.

“Put it away for now,” the thief said as he tried to gather his thoughts. With an irritated croak, Vex did as he was told and pulled the chair back into the shadow once more. “What about Shale?,” Dalthan continued. “Can you put Shale in the darkness?”

The golem caught Dal’s attention by lifting one of its long arms. Shale didn’t have eyes, but the thief could feel its attention squarely on him when it uncurled one stoney finger and shook it back and forth in a universal sign of ‘uh uh’.

Dalthan’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. If the golem wasn’t willing to dive into his shadow, that left him with only one choice. He’d have to do it himself.

“Vex, I want-”

The [Rogue]’s words were cut off when the door to his room suddenly swung open. Zaplixel stepped haughtily through the doorway, pausing just long enough to sneer at Dalthan before he made room for Keysha. The huntress didn’t even glance his way as she slipped down the wall to stand beside Shale. Last, but not least, Sylvia stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

The [Druid] immediately arrested his attention, shattering any thoughts of experimenting with Vex’s newfound ability.

Carrying a long staff of intricately carved wood, the nymph was dressed in a finely articulated suit of armor that looked like it was made from a giant beetle’s carapace. The thin chitin covered her arms and legs in dark green plates, though from the generous amount of cleavage exposed by the cut of the breastplate, he had his doubts about the chest protection.

The nymph’s transformation didn’t stop at her choice of attire. Her pale jade complexion had darkened to an olive tone and her vibrant green hair had shifted to a shade of black even darker than Keysha’s. The entire look left her with the appearance of an exotic beauty, but a human beauty instead of a clearly magical one.

Too late, Dalthan realized he’d been staring at the generous swath of bare flesh exposed by the shape of her breastplate.

“Like what you see?” Sylvia asked with a smirk. The nymph twisted her shoulders left and right to give him an even more tantalizing view.

“You’re such a fucking dog, Dalthan.” Keysha’s voice cut through the room like a cold razor through an undefended throat.

“I was surprised at how much she’d changed.” Dalthan bristled as he turned to the [Sharpshooter] to defend himself. “I didn’t know that nymphs could alter their appearance like that.”

“Nymphs lure men into positions of vulnerability,” Sylvia replied, adding extra emphasis to the word positions. “It’s easier to do that if we can change our looks enough to offer them what they want.”

Zaplixel waved a hand, filling the air with the rattle of the numerous bracelets he wore on his scrawny wrist. “Yes, yes. The [Rogue] is an idiot. We all know this by now. Why don’t we focus on what we don’t know.”

Before Dalthan could interrupt, Zap turned to Syvlvia. “What did you find at the guild?”

The nymph shook her head, plush lips pressing into a thin line before she spoke. “There wasn’t much. I didn’t find anything about this Fortress of Scorched Stone or Quartz Valley.” Sylvia sauntered further into the room, her boots clacking rhythmically against the stone floor before she came to a stop at Dalthan’s side. “The only thing I found about anyone named Rimewyrd was in an old text that detailed the fall of the first Hub.”

Keysha’s dark brows shot up. “You mean when Balerik bestowed the first System on the city?” The huntress let out a low whistle that sounded like an arrow plummeting toward an unsuspecting target. “I didn’t know anyone that was around for the first System was still alive.”

“Besides the Ur-Priest,” Keysha quickly amended.

“There are a few of the ancient ones still around,” Zaplixel said, his pale blue eyes staring off into the distance as he contemplatively drug a palm across his bald head. “Oculus, the Eye Tyrant would be an example. If this Rimewyld is someone of similar stature, I cannot imagine what kind of power it would take to hold it captive.”

The grim look on Sylvia’s face did not improve Dalthan’s suddenly plummeting confidence. “He’s right,” the nymph said. “We’re low-tier adventurers. The lowest. Normally, we’d be contracted for the simplest work available.”

“Like selling magic beans,” Keysha said dryly.

“Like selling magic beans,” Sylvia repeated. “That’s why I think the name must be a coincidence. Dealing with someone like Oculus or, Balerik forbid, Ancev would be well above our pay grade.”

“I don’t know what all of you are so worried about,” Dalthan said, lacing his fingers together to loudly crack his knuckles. The sudden series of pops drew a scowl from Keysha and a roll of Zap’s pale blue eyes. “This quest was picked out specifically for us. I bet it’ll be a vacation. Probably some seaside resort with sun and surf and sand as far as the eye can see.”

As if on cue, the quest timer ticked down to zero. A hiss like the quenching of a newly forged blade filled the air as a line of darkness sliced through the air in front of each of the adventurers. The line twisted, oddly reminding Dal of the way he’d felt when he watched Vex’s chair disappear into his shadow. The shift took only a moment, then the black line seemed to eat away at the very edges of reality, devouring everything it touched until a portal of writhing darkness silently beckoned him forward.

With one last look at his crew, the [Rogue] stepped through.

*****

One moment Dalthan was in the comfortable confines of his room at the Pleasure Palace. The next, he was standing ankle-deep in hot sand. The thief spun about, quickly taking a head count of his team as he tried to get his bearings.

An angry red sun, easily twice as large as the sun in his homeland, blazed down from its perch above the cloudless sky. Beneath its rusty light, the thief could see nothing save a sea of sand dunes that stretched out in every direction. Waves of shimmering heat rose from the golden sand, filling the air with a suffocating warmth that left his mouth parched and his eyes dry.

Otherwise, the land appeared featureless, as if everything had been ground down to nothing by the howling wind and the ever-present grit it carried.

Dal turned and spat out a few grains of sand. “This,” the [Rogue] said, “is not what I had in mind.”

All but one of his companions cast an accusatory look toward the thief as if their current plight was somehow his fault.

Vex was the only one who was reasonable enough to not blame him for being tossed into the middle of a desert. The slaad’s nostrils were flaring as it turned first one way, then the other. A moment later, it lifted one of its thickly muscled arms to point with one wickedly curved claw.

“I smell humans,” the abomination gurgled, licking its lips with a slick, ropey tongue.

“Well then,” Dalthan said, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Let’s go pay them a visit.”