= ( STRATSIOSINA ) =

Rulis the kephalatikion of Karula looked in exasperation as one of his assistants intruded into his office. He reluctantly lowered the gossipy letter that he had just received from his sister in Marcenium.

“Please excuse me o kephalatikion, one of the patrol captains has sent us a query. I just need your signature on the reply.”

Rulis indicated his desk, and when his assistant placed the message on his desk glanced briefly at it before reaching for his pen. Then he froze. He reached for his sister’s letter. ‘Now where was that... I know I saw something about... Yes! There it is...’

Rulis read the indicated passage and broke into a cold sweat, before ripping the reply his assistant had produced into shreds. His assistant looked stupefied.

“What’s the problem kephalatikion? She’s just a beastkin, not worth worrying over.”

Rulis swallowed convulsively, “The first wife of the Emperor of the Empire of the Silver Moon on Marcenium is expecting, and that whole damn elven cesspit is crediting a new goddess. Bastet also known as Bast.”

“How is that relevant?”

Rulis stared at his assistant and resolved to get rid of the man. That kind of purblind stupidity would bite him in the ass sooner or later. “The captain showed commendable caution, priests are tricky. And one that represents a goddess that has the adoration of the ruling class elves is dangerous. The Basileius would not thank us for inciting an invasion,” he explained.

Seeing the look of blank incomprehension, he tried again, “Look, not everyone regards beastkin as smart animals. And many priestess of Bastet are beastkin.” Still no sign of comprehension, just incredulity. Rulis sighed. Time to find a replacement post haste. He grabbed a sheet of paper and started writing.

= = O = =

Captain Fraamos was having difficulty believing his eyes. He looked up from the note that came with the small package of documents and waved the messenger over to the bar. Then he rose and walked towards the adventurers. He inclined his head slightly to the leader of the band.

I have my instructions,” he noted how the adventurers stiffened slightly, as if preparing themselves for action. “The kephalatikion Rulis has ordered me to offer you a compromise. The kephalatikion does not wish to antagonise your beastkin’s goddess. He suggests that you allow the despotate to take over the property she is entitled to and sell it. The money will be sent to her goddess’ temple in the Empire of the Silver Moon.”

Brazos looked across at Natercia who nodded minutely. He looked back at the captain, “Very well, we will accept that. We don’t like it but we will accept.”

Fraamos nodded and passed over an official looking document with a copy. “Please sign or make your mark on the document and its copy, and have your beastkin witness it on her goddess’ behalf.”

Fraamos noted that all the adventurers acted as if they’d been insulted. They spoke briefly amongst themselves in yet another language, not the English that his translator had half mastered. They signed and left, much to his relief. He carefully guarded the document and went to collect his patrol after having a word with the messenger.

The patrol was mounted and ready to depart when Fraamos left the inn, their linen shirts and baggy pantaloons made for a bright splash of colour, as did the peacock feathers bobbing on their wolf fur caps. They watched the adventurers head north, ignoring the trade road and making for the wild woods.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Fraamos turned and headed off. He wasn’t looking forward to the next few hours, but at least his beastkin trooper wasn’t going to desert to go after the woman. Not when she was heading for that dryad infested wilderness. Not that the orcs weren’t bad enough on their own.

* * *

Fraamos bowed politely to the clerk manning the front desk of the bureau of religions. “I have a message from kephalatikion Rulis for the person representing the elven gods.”

The stooped ink stained little man actually looked impressed. But it still took Fraamos nearly an hour of visiting several different poky little rooms before he found himself in one containing a bored looking half elf male. It was with relief that he handed over the signed deed, and the letter from kephalatikion Rulis with explanations and instructions.

It was with immense relief that Fraamos left the government building, collected his patrol and headed out of town.

= ( ALCADAR ) =

Dee looked down from the tree she was perched in. She was thoroughly fed up with the wolves that were sniffing round her tree. They were keeping her from dinner, and they had made her miss lunch.

The biggest one reared up and placed its front paws on the tree trunk. It growled at her. Dee glared at it wishing it would just go away. But it just growled at her.

Dee glared at it with all her eyes. Something stirred in her chest, a strange warm and cold feeling rose up slowly, her eyes silvered, even as sparks gathered around her snake heads. And the wolf stilled, even as its color changed. Dee blinked in surprise at the statue of a wolf that was rearing up against her tree.

She stared at one of the other wolves, but nothing happened. After thinking about it, Dee started experimenting.

Dee walked around the statues of the wolves, patting a couple out of curiosity before making her way back to the stream. ‘I have to call that... that... magic feeling up in my chest, then I need to meet the... bad thing’s eyes and they become statues. Um... scary and fun...’ Dee grinned mischievously. ‘Gorgon’s Gaze 3. How can I have skills? I’m not old enough ’cording to Gussy. Wonder if that means I can learn how to catch things on fire like Gussy?’

Dee expertly filleted the trout she had caught and ate it while staring into the distance. ‘Tickling fish, I never used to be able to do it no matter how often Tiina showed me. Now it’s easy... I wonder, Status... Skills... um... wow... Got lots to ask Gussy... wonder where he is?’

= = O = =

Gustravious or Gussy sat in the dark leaning against the bars of his cage. He contemplated the recent past. The bandits had sold him to the charlatan father Foolanier. He gathered the man intended to use him in some show, some kind of pretend exorcism. He rather suspected he wouldn’t survive that show.

The main thing is that he could think. He regretted the loss of his familiar but he accepted those of her memories that remained in his head fondly. The result of their fusion was mostly him, Gussy. It had taken too long to finish the integration and regain his skills.

Gussy grinned nastily showing far too many sharp teeth. His biggest problem was pronouncing the words he needed for his spells. ‘I wonder where those two little mischief-makers are. I hope I can find them in time. If they use racial or class skills I won’t be able to return them to themselves. Nobody will,’ worried Gussy.

Gussy blinked in the sudden light as Fuulanier opened the door of the hut that housed his cage. Gussy watched as the man lit the lantern that sat on the table by the door. Fuulanier closed the door and strutted towards the smouldering remains of the incense block. He examined it and grinned. “Good. It’s almost time demon. I won’t need to waste more money. Be sure to scream and roar you stupid thing. Without your infernal abilities it’s all you can do.”

Gussy couldn’t prevent himself from chuckling. The fool had the key to his cage on his belt. The incense had actually helped him as it had dampened Fassy’s presence. Gussy flicked his long forked black tongue out smelling the air. “Flame bolt excelcius,” he intoned, just for the hell of it as he flicked the fingers of his right hand.

Fuulanier screamed in fright and horror as the bolt of superheated magical fire slammed into his chest.

Gussy, rose, crouching because of the height of his cage. “Fetch,” he said, and the key rose from the body of Fuulanier and floated to his hand. Gussy stepped out of the cage and stretched himself with relief. He looked at the body. “Sever,” he said. Then he bent and grabbed Fuulanier’s severed head by the hair.

The crowd of villagers were waiting for their prophet. Then the door of his hut disappeared in a sheet of fire and the demon strode out through the flames holding up the head of their saviour.

“FOOLS!” it roared, “YOUR SOULS ARE MINE!” it screamed even as it threw their prophet’s head into their midst.

Gussy laughed uproariously as he watched the villagers flee.