Surviving a Cataclysm and other Daring Adventures

Prologue

Sinistarius was a rock. Sinistarius cared not for people or property. Sinistarius cared not if you were of the highest nobility or a bottom-feeding sewer rat. Sinistarius cared not for livelihoods or reputations or religious preferences. Good, bad, human, orc, or something in between, no matter your race or allegiance, Sinistarius had no empathy. Sinistarius would be a destructive force the planet had never before experienced. As previously stated, Sinistarius was a rock. Not a rock in the figurative meaning. It wasn't stubborn and silent. It wasn't proud and strong-willed. In the usual sense, it could not be defined by these terms. Because Sinistarius was a flash-frozen, dense 33-ton meteor speeding towards the planet Threadim!

Edwin Byarn, an amateur astronomer, had spotted Sinistarius five months earlier and had forewarned his superiors and higher authorities, but they shamed him for being an overreactive doomsayer. It was a thankless occupation. The chance of a meteorite hitting the planet was astronomical, they joked. At first, he reasoned with them, then cajoled them, and finally, pleaded, but no one would listen. He had to accept their indifference. If only he knew for certain Sinistarius's exact destination, could he inform the right people. Sadly, it wasn't meant to be. When the meteorite inevitably collided, it would shake the very foundation of humanity. Sinistarius was coming, and they all would soon discover what would happen when an unstoppable force met an immovable object. As a result, the impact of the meteorite would kill thousands, destroy civilizations, and set mankind back hundreds of years. It would be an existential crisis that the survivors couldn't comprehend. But it wasn't all bad, for it would save seven prominent and essential lives.

Rogues Wanted

At a professional gambling hall known as the Hindalurt House, sometimes known for highly illegal activity, Juniper Raindrop entered alone. It was full of bustling activity with cries of minor triumph and a slew of foregone disappointments. A bell would occasionally ring in a far chamber while other rooms were almost too quiet. Teal had been missing for three months. She and Alex had heard the rumors of her sudden disappearance but had refused to believe that she had abandoned the City of Thirst. They searched for the little fugitive, but alas, she was nowhere to be found. Reasoning that the mission was a lost cause, she watched from afar, a game of Nine Head Hydra for a few rounds.

Reluctantly, Alexondra Pureheart investigated the halls before Jun arrived. This had been their third visit before they secured a password. It didn't matter that they were proven heroines. The paranoid guild members worried that their high profile would lead to trouble, so the two strangers were denied entry until today. And when they had learned the password -- "A skeleton key is a useful tool," she automatically suspected a trick of some sort, mayhap a sneaky ambush as they crossed the threshold. But Juniper told her that that was unlikely for what would be the objective? We were the ones searching for answers, and if they wanted our gold, all we had to do was gamble it away.

She really didn't care to spot her quarry. There was a good reason why Teal vanished. If she wanted to worship the God of Stealth, then she needed to practice what she preached. The Fearless Foursome were living a dreamer's life, and she wanted it to stay that way. Who needed the extra stress or malaise? Let others run from their problems; she would face them forthrightly.

Above her hung convex paper domes in which Strober bugs blinked in unison, giving the hall a festive atmosphere. A fountain in a corner spat out a steady flow of water through the mouth of a rainbow trout. Various coins decorated the bottom. The painted murals were an odd touch, depicting a prosaic Halfling life. Domesticity at its best, shepherding in the hillocks, tilling the land, gardening, reading, and of course, cooking in the kitchen.

A tiny man, shorter than any other Halfling, strolled about the rounded tables-- the edges shorn off in case he hit his head-- the horse racing contraption that involved flywheels and other well-oiled gears, and the fancy billiard room with matching dart boards. His physical stature belied the importance of his title, responsibilities, and handiwork. The regulars knew him fairly well, and they knew any outsiders would have a difficult time beating the house. He was sometimes hard to see when he moved around; otherwise, his presence seemed to command a room. This was Granma Uranos's Guild Leader-- Knubby Card, also jovially known as the littlest big boss.

Sadly, Granma Uranos was long gone but had left an indelible impression on the Vradenburg populace, and especially the Halfling community, of which she was a part many moons ago. She had founded the original guild, and through sheer will and determination, it has stood the test of time. The Uranos lineage survived the centuries, yet they no longer debased themselves with roguish behavior, as they had become extremely wealthy by benefitting from their name and heritage.

A short female in a hooded cloak had entered the gambling hall and whispered to Knubby about joining the players at the table. She was cordially invited, and the Kender pulled a chair out for her and ordered her a drink. He was being unusually personable towards her.

Jun sneakily wandered over to a spot behind her. Alex rushed over and sat directly across from the cloaked one and anteed up. The cards were dealt, bets were made, and bluffs were called. One successful sleight-of-hand trick later, and the mystery player won.

"Three knaves and a crown! Impossible!" griped one gambler.

"Call it beginner's luck," said the woman. Her face was hidden in shadow, but Alex didn't need to see her big ears, twitchy eyes, pug nose, and dumb mouth. She knew her well!

The Kender reached for the pot of gold pieces, and when she did, Alex jumped from her seat and pulled down her dark hood. "Hello, Halfling," she said in familiar expectation.

"Hey, I told you not to call us that," protested Teal. Her Cloak of Urban Camouflage blinked and blended with her surroundings perfectly. She could hide in the background or foreground if she was so inclined.

The boss stepped forward. "Mind your manners, Dwarf, or I will toss you out of here!" warned Knubby.

"All right, all right." She pumped her arms up and out in submission.

Teal's hair had grown long in the past few months, and she now had stylized it in a billowing topknot. Her trousers and leather vest were recently tanned. No jewelry stood out on her fingers, cuffs, or neck, but she wore Alex's anvil earrings.

Jun had wondered curiously where the lockpicker had been. She figured she had maybe fled the city. The roguish community sure was very secretive about her whereabouts. As for her new fashion, she thought it an odd choice, but who was she to judge a Kender by a look? To her, it only mattered that it was a nice change of pace. She nodded at her from the cluttered gambling table.

The self-assured rogue's demeanor wasn't the only thing to change. She was a contradiction in terms of her new position in the thieves' guild. Only a few months before, she was a nobody-- a novice pickpocket working the muddy streets, and now... well, now she was a famous heroine known throughout the city, and her name afforded respect and prestige. On the one hand, she brought in new recruits and intriguing prospects to Knubby's operation, but on the other, he couldn't use her for any missions because of her high profile. At least not within the confines of the Metropolis of Mud. Her reputation actually preceded her.

"Ye may have taken me bet, but those are mine, Nickelclipper!" Alex pointed at her cheap, custom-made earrings.

The Halfling swiveled her head to the other gamblers at the table. They all had looks of concern and suspicion. These thieves were experienced with everybody from the casual player to the high-stakes professional. If the house manager refused to do anything drastic, they would certainly take matters into their own hands.

A disguised Teal gave Alex a frustrating smile. "Here. You can have them. They're not my style anyway." She unpierced them and threw them down on Alex's side of the table.

"Sure you don't want to gamble those away?" said a dapper gentleman smoking a sweet-smelling cigar. His fellow gamblers chuckled.

Hesitating briefly, she scooped them up. Then she asked herself, Why was Teal being so accommodating? It wasn't like her. Mayhap, she was working undercover. Aye, undercover, she concluded. She wasn't wrong. But she still nudged her along. "Where have ye been, Teal?"

"Let's not discuss that right now. We'll have to talk privately." She gulped down her pint of Unlite mead, set it down on the felt, and flicked her hood. "Excuse me, my friends, I have an important matter to take care of."

"That's what ye said to us last time we saw ye," grumbled Alex.

"You cheatin' cardsharp! You're supposed to give us a chance to win our money back!" The Halfling was as ugly as his attitude. Minute features combined with a huge forehead and hairy ears flopping lazily. Unfortunately, he was correct. This was known as bad manners and offensive to all loyal guild members.

"Some other time, Pickslittle." She and Alex started to walk away, but the Halfling rose from his chair, followed by the rest of the table. The two estranged adventurers exchanged a knowing look. If it was a fight they wanted, then they were about to get it. The guild members were well within their rights. However, Mr. Card was there to run interference for his favorite button nose but was rudely interrupted before he could do anything.

An irate gambler shouted, "Hey! We want a fair game!" Teal recognized him as a member of the Abrasa Gang. A tiny dagger popped into his hand from his sleeve as he lunged toward Teal. "The Halfling is right about you. You are a cardshar--!" In an instant, ten volts shot through his body. He stood rigid and vibrated. His hair stood on end as his dagger fell to the floor. Then he followed it down.

"We heard you the first time," said Jun, holding her lightning rod out. Standing behind him, she drew everyone's attention. Now, they had second thoughts about arguing their case with the odds stacked against them.

Meanwhile, a secret knock alerted the bouncer at the door, who signaled to his boss, Dino, on the floor, who informed Knubby of the news. "Curse the moon to mud," he said. With hands cupped around his mouth, he yelled, "Incoming Vanguard!" His second in command ran to a hidden button located in a wall panel and punched it. The half domes retreated up into the ceiling with their pulsating shutterbugs.

Being forewarned, the gamblers soon forgot about their disagreement with Teal. Tables were flipped, whole rooms were shuttered, curtains were opened to replace the lost light, and most everyone snuck out the hidden exits. A couple opened a trap door, climbed inside, and fell silent. Now, the boring painted walls made sense when blended with the calmer feeling of peace and tranquility.

The Bulwark of the Coast, King Iroma, was a hypocritical man, allowing the elites to party and gamble, causing all sorts of chaos while the lowly peons, if caught doing the same, constantly suffered his wrath. He was always consistent in that way. The guild couldn't be sure if the Vradenburg Vanguard was there to shut the gambling operation down or not. They must've known about it. Knubby walked around the tables hurriedly, scooping coins and loose cards into a borrowed hat, regretting his job in this instance.

The Vanguard approached and practically kicked the heavy door down. Atlid, the masculine bouncer, slid the upper metal plate aside and asked, "What's the password?" He knew it would aggravate them, but he was only doing his job.

A helmeted man, well over six feet, said, "We don't need a password. We're the law of the land. Now open up before we start torching this pit of vice and iniquity."

"Hold that thought, kopper," Atlid said and closed the plate. He pivoted toward Knubby. "It's Captain Graphantle, Mister Card." Nervously, the guild leader waved to let them inside. The Vanguard knew the thieves' guild was a necessary evil due to the rapacious noble houses causing unchecked inequality on a daily basis. Neither the king nor his royal guard wanted a surprise revolution at their doorsteps.

Several senior guild members hurried to their seats at a long rectangular table facing Knubby at his podium. The signage above and behind him stated the place's name in bold lettering, fire-branded on mahogany. The masters in thievery started rehearsing their mock debate concerning their rival competition-- the Abrasa Gang. A mostly human organization, they were no stranger to violent crimes and were becoming a sharp thorn in the guild's side. Sure, they committed robberies and burglaries but they drew the line at assault and murder. There had to be an ethical code.

When the police force entered, the Captain had to duck under the lintel. He shoved Atlid away and strode to the low table, sizing up the Halfling gathering. He was flanked by two of the Vanguard. Having no reason to run, the three demi-humans stood next to Knubby. Whatever this surprise visit was about, they weren't afraid to get involved.

In waiting for Captain Graphantle to speak, the littlest big boss looked around uneasily, pulled a handkerchief from his fancy, ruffled shirt, and dabbed at his sweaty brow. A skylight shone down, bathing him in warm sunlight. Red-headed Alexondra crossed her arms while Juniper steadied her elbow and cradled her chin, tapping one finger on her cheek. Miss Nickelclipper disappeared into the background.

Graphantle lifted his helmet and shook his wavy hair out. He acknowledged the crowded table. "A meeting of the minds, yes?" He tilted his head and looked down at both ends of the long table. None of the guild members wanted to look him in the eye. You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. He pulled a chair out, and the seated Kender squeaked like a mouse and found a shadow to hide behind. The Captain sat and stretched his legs to rest his boots on the low wooden table.

He spoke. "Greetings, Knubby Card. I trust that you and yours are doing well. No, don't answer that. I can see that you are," he said with a lopsided smile. "Anyway, the reason for my... unexpected visit is because King Iroma wants to know the whereabouts of one Yonew Krelom, the most wanted man..." The Vanguardian next to him bent down and whispered something in his ear.

Everyone had seen the wanted posters distributed throughout the city, the sketch of a slippery Halfling, Yonew Krelom (one of many identities) guilty of pirating rum, racketeering, possession of Ullod pills, assaulting officers, burglary (within Castle Serowik!), and a dozen other unnamed offenses, mostly false charges.

Fearing their prisoners would easily escape with the use of magic, the ruling class outlawed Clerics and other magicians from gaining access to Ol' Glum's jail cells. It was considered a necessary and practical law. However, a cruel policy was also developed and became the major difference between long-standing institutions. Amnuros and other like-minded businesses had (almost) no issue with the treatment of their law-abiding citizens, but in stark contrast, convicted felons would be afforded far less compassion. So, with their government manipulating the legislative process, the monarchy could claim it was in the people's best interest, as a deterrent, to treat criminals poorly-- a bureaucratic sophistry. If they weren't waiting on the weekly gallows, then they were forced into an unethical slavery, reinforcing the outer walls-- the very walls in which they were trying to flee!

Graphantle continued. "Yes, of course. The most wanted Halfling in Vradenburg. As you all know, there is a huge reward for any infor--"

A voice came from the other side of the table. "He's not in Vradenburg. Now, is that enough information to collect on?"

"Who said that? Show yourself," he demanded.

Teal revealed her face from under her cloak. "It's me, you dung beetle!" Apparently, they were acquainted at the Fearless Foursome's celebratory event after the necromancer's defeat. Since then, she'd been through a transformative realignment, and she would never be the same again.

His dull gray eyes widened. The Captain was almost unsure of what to say next, but he knew better than to return an equally nasty insult. "Teal Nickelclipper. I'm not here for you. Not yet," he added. He pointed a gauntleted finger at the three celebrated heroines. "Although I suspect the king may call on all three of you in the near future."

"They don't work for him," said the big boss defiantly.

The Captain of the Vanguard waved a hand. "No matter." He caught Teal's attention again. "You say he's no longer here, then where, pray tell, is he?"

"I seriously don't know, and neither do I care that much."

"Oh? And why not?"

"If you must know, we came to an understanding and broke off our relationship." Juniper and Alex gave a slight gasp. Obviously, they had no idea either.

"Ahh, okay. So he cast a spell and vanished into thin air?" He mimed a poof with his hands.

She scoffed belligerently. "He doesn't need a spell to avoid your inept Vanguard."

His two guards grumbled under their breath. If not for their helms, they would've had to fight their way out of the guild's ranks. "Ouch," Graphantle said.

She finished succinctly, "Anyhow, he's gone-- without a trace. He hasn't been seen around these parts in a month. Go and tell your king he's wasting his time. Yonew's dead to me as he should be to you."

"And what about you, Mister Card? Do you have an opinion on where he could be?"

"As you well know, Captain, that traitor was expelled by us after he fled with my falcon egg. That baby was priceless," he proclaimed as he raised his puny arm to the ceiling. "So let's just say that you better find him before I do!"

Captain Graphantle sighed in resignation. "We'll be heading to the Abrasa Gang next, but if we find anyone covering for him... We'll be back with the proper warrants." He stood and recovered his shiny helmet. It was an empty threat, and they all knew it because if no one from the thieves' guild could find him, then it was all true. Yonew Krelom really had vanished from sight. Not all that surprising when you consider his nickname was The Unseen!

After the Vanguard left, Knubby ordered the gambling hall closed for the day. Lucky for him, the Captain hadn't mentioned their arrangement. He would have to personally deliver a bag of coins to the Captain to keep their secret. The deal was simple-- pay Graphantle his share, and he would keep his mouth shut, and Knubby could continue his illegal activities. Now, if the other members of the Granma Uranos Guild discovered what he was doing with their profits, the punishment would be severe and swift. But as far as they knew, everything was running exemplary. Only it was Teal's job to expose him without revealing her disloyalty to the Hindalurt House.

Outside, on the street, Juniper asked, "What was that about?"

"Precautionary measures," replied Teal.

"Aye, but what happens if yer caught?"

"I'm not sure, but I know the guild will continue. We break as many laws as the authorities do, but we help the community too. We provide counsel to those who are arrested, we give to the needy, and we shelter the poor. That's more than the Vanguard does."

"Doesn't Cleric Sage and her church do the same?"

"Correct. Our thieves' guild works in conjunction with the Church of Renold, gaining information, trading favors, and retrieving valuable artifacts. And that's why the guild will survive. Follow me," she concluded.

It was the season of Aurhum, the middle of summer, and a scorching heat wave. They strolled casually on the avenues through the Rankbender district, Teal's cloak fading in and out of existence. If her two companions lost sight of her, they would have to search for her again. The streets were dry, baked mud. She led the Dwarf and Elf down Clam Loren Ave, then through No Hill Park, next across the Grindbank River over a bridge, and finally turned into an alley and stopped halfway. Fetid refuse littered the area. Alex plugged her nose. "Phew! I sure hope this ain't yer secret meeting place."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" She donned her hood and craned her neck upward to check on anyone spying from the rooftops, then she faced the brick wall, inserted a key, and somehow the wall split open. It became a six-foot doorway. Teal stepped forward and entered. "Make haste."

"How very droll. A hidden entrance," Alex said, clearly amused.

Juniper jostled past her into the concealed doorway. "Sometime today, Alex," she said impatiently.

They followed Teal up seven flights of steps and into another thick wooden door, also securely locked. "Stay here," she instructed. "I have to check my traps." She entered the domicile while they waited quietly, and after a few minutes, she returned and invited them inside. It opened into a broad living area with a comfortable couch, puffy chairs, and a lacquered coffee table over a finely woven rug. A great bay window captured the sun's rays. There was a fully stocked kitchen installed with a pot belly stove and a matching dining room. The Kender hung her cloak on a coat rack in an alcove near the door. "I'm losing too much weight wearing this thing."

She sat in her small chair and motioned Juniper and Alexondra to the couch. They settled, and Jun asked, "So this is what you've been doing since we parted ways?"

Alex drank from her waterskin, smacked her lips, then said accusingly, "Ye've been gambling and sneaking and running from the law these past few months? What a way to live!"

Teal attempted to deflect the questions. "I want you to know that it's nothing personal. Would you like some savory treats?"

"Nae right now. Answer me, Kender."

On the wall behind them and between two inner doors, glowing paintings hung-- one, of the elder Uranos, clutching her gnarled staff and winking, the other an exaggerated event of chaotic war in which the Fearless Foursome were striving to survive whilst a shower of fiery arrows and boulders fell upon them. The Cleric shot magic missiles at armed skeletons as canines bit and chewed their frail bodies, and the spirit-haunted castle in the background stood as a ­­­depressing, tainted pall over the entire battlefield. Their biggest mistake was the stars above, as if it had all happened at midnight.

"Yes, I've been hiding from everyone, keeping a low profile. Spying, shadowing potential rivals, gathering information. Tricks of the trade and all that."

"Spying for whom? That Knubby character?" asked Jun.

"No, I'm only pretending to work for him. My partner, Dino, and I want to bring him down and replace him, but he is too well-connected."

"So what? We're well-connected too. We know the king!"

Teal frowned. These new responsibilities were an indication of how much she had matured. "The royals cannot be trusted. My guild thinks they're worse backstabbers than we are. A successful betrayal must come from within our own ranks. That is our law."

"Then what is yer plan? Do ye even have one?"

"Of course we do, but it's complicated."

"First, we need to plant clues and evidence that leads a trail back to him. Second, we hire and train a team sympathetic to our cause. Third, we need that team to free all the Ol' Glum prisoners, and whilst the Vanguard is distracted, I want to rob the king's vault."

"Och, that's some lofty goals for a measly pickpocket. Ye'll never be able to pull off that type o' flimflammery, aye!"

"I agree. At least not within a fortnight," replied Jun.

Teal sighed and said, "It's a long shot, I know, but I'm a professional thief now, and I want to satisfy my patron saint."

"Okay, but you don't have to do everything at once. These are difficult tasks. Slow it down and let it come gradually. It took me years to learn how to hunt, kill, skin, and tan the hides of a menagerie of wild animals."

"But we have a reputation to uphold," she protested.

"Yer right, we do," Alex emphasized. "Nae just ye."

"That's actually easier imagined than realized when there's no opportunity to save people or defend a city. What does a heroine do when all her problems have been solved?"

"Simple. We go to where the danger lies," said the Dwarf.

Juniper leaned forward on the couch, assuming a proper posture. "Then that's what we'll do! Good thinking, Alex!"

"What? That's nae what I meant!"

"Teal? What do you want to do? Languish in this unbearable weather or go adventuring with me?"

The Kender walked into the kitchen and poured herself a flagon of ale. She thought this would have to be her decision and hers alone. Juniper had a salient point. What was she still doing here? Sweating her tail off for a minor backwater guild when there was a whole world to explore?

"I admit I do have the desire to travel more. But I want to clear up some loose ends with the guild and... others." She had a pending deal with the Abrasa Gang to fence their diamonds before the Vanguard could raid their headquarters and charge them with stolen goods. That's okay; she would keep them safe. She didn't like how they treated others not of their kind anyway. Human or not, they were trash.

The Wood Elf stood and nearly squealed. "Then it's settled. We're moving on."

"Wait a damnable second. Ye didn't ask me opinion."

"You can stay or go as you please. I'm not the boss of you."

"Very funny. Ye do ken we're a team; I've a wanderlust, too."

Juniper moved to the clear bay window overlooking the neighborhood. Alex joined her. The view gave them a panorama of the blue sky, the streaming river, and the park where children played a nascent game of Mudball. They watched the sprawling, bustling populace below: the wealthy merchants and their profitable businesses, the common workers struggling to make ends meet, and the dregs of society worsening every day. An egalitarian metropolis this was not. It accepted all economic classes within its walls. There were no exceptions.

A smiling Teal produced two more flagons, filled them to the brim, and held them out. "To wanderlust!" they toasted. It was no stretch of the imagination that each of them yearned for daring adventure, political intrigue, and personal discovery.

Feeling the effect of the drink, Jun's face contorted, and her head vibrated briefly. "Whew! That's a strong fermentation."

"Ye get used to it," said Alex, unfazed by the alcohol. "It's an acquired taste."

"Hopefully, I won't have to." The resourceful Elf chose a spot in the air, and colorful dust motes appeared. She pinched at them, dropped them into her mug, took a sip, and said, "That's better."

The other two stared in disbelief. They realized Jun had learned her first spell without them. Would wonders never cease?

She recognized their bewilderment. "It's a simple cantrip. Adept Sage taught me a few." A feathered ink pen at Teal's writing desk dipped itself into the inkwell while a leaflet floated up from a drawer, and soon written were words of encouragement: Rise up! The Adventure continues, and nothing can stop us!

"Remarkable!" claimed Teal.

Less impressed with the pen and paper antics, Alex lifted her flagon high. "Aye, but how does the ale taste?"

Jun cast the spell again and changed their strong ale into a less bitter drink. They both had a suspicious sip.

"That's... uh, different. You reduced the level of alcohol for a sweeter tinge."

"Och, she watered it down!" Alex cried and dumped the liquid out of the open window.

"I rather like it. I could test myself on the whole keg," teased Jun.

"What? Oh, no! It's fine, it's good. Right, Alexondra?"

"It's yer keg, Nickelclipper," she grumbled. "I do wannae more though. One without Elven enchantments, please."

The three of them watched the eastern sunset beyond the horizon. Jun and Alex chose to spend the night in Teal's safehouse, leading to an hour-long discussion about current events, popular ideologies, and the nature of men.

A Game of Mudball

In the morning, they strolled out to the Roddam District, bordering the northern wall of the metropolis, nursing their hangovers with Inugh pills and plenty of water. If only there were another way to celebrate their unplanned reunion without suffering the consequences. Groaning, their heads spinning, they continued to walk.

As they approached their three-bedroom house built of red brick, strong timber, and terra cotta roofing tiles, Teal whistled. "Very nice." Fruit trees and green shrubbery grew in the well-manicured front yard, and a small garden of vegetables sprouted under wide windows. They entered through a white gate connected to a surrounding picket fence.

"Welcome to the Hoot Owl House. It was provided by the royal court in collaboration with the city's churches. Without them, I would still be living like a vagabond, hopping from inn to tavern."

"And I would still be living in a cheap basement!" Alex confessed.

Teal kept silent about staying in the dirty, stinky warrens of the southern end of the city when she had first arrived. Humbly, she was grateful not to be sleeping on the streets with the beggars, but her two friends had no idea what it was like to be dirt poor.

A heavy door, complete with a brass knocker shaped as an owl, allowed them inside. Furnished to the gills, the room presented to Teal a vast living area, including a huge candelabra and stuccoed walls that featured many objet d'art. As a match to her own painting centered on the far wall was another action scene, most likely by the same artist, due to its exaggerated lightning clouds. It depicted the Fearless Foursome, who stood in a tight circle, defenses up, with the necromancer flying high and throwing deadly black bolts at them. Behind them, a swirling, cosmic rift tore a hole in the sky, showing an enraged demon's face protruding through it!

If there was an adjoining dining room and kitchen, she hadn't spotted it. Teal whistled even louder this time. "Burt's Boreblast!" she exclaimed.

"Ye do nae kena what ye been missing, Teal."

Jun lit some olibanum incense. "A tribute to the sweet smell of victory," she said to herself.

There was a knock at the door, and Teal jumped up immediately and covered her head. Alex grunted, "I'll get it." She passed the Halfling, saying, "Ye sure are paranoid these days."

She opened the door to a young man standing on their veranda dressed in classy raiment, then called over her shoulder, "It's just a kid, ye silly cat."

"Greetings and salutations. I am a Royal Page sent by the King's Court, and I have mail for Joniper Raindrup and Alexander Purrhart," he said with a foreign accent. He formally presented three scrolls, one of which was royally embossed with the king's wax seal.

The Elf had snuck up behind Alex. She chose not to correct her butchered name. "Close enough," she remarked.

"Tip the messenger, Alexondra."

Until now, he had treated the household as a common recipient of his service as a page hired by the court. Then recognition set in. "Ahh... Excuse me. You are fearless?" He hadn't meant to say it that way, but his mind could not catch up with his mouth.

The stout Dwarf traded the scrolls for a gold piece. "Aye, we are." She closed the door on his shocked face. As he left, he looked in his palm and realized he had never been tipped so much, and he walked away with a smile that would last the whole day.

Alex kept the one with the king's wax seal and passed the others around. Jun recognized her seal from her forest home. They all skimmed them quickly and revealed what they were to each other. They didn't know it at the time, but this information would change their lives forever.

Juniper, clearly stunned, read hers first. "You are cordially invited to the wedding of Twigif and Thaleh." There was more written, but she just stared at the open scroll.

"So, who are they?" Teal asked.

"Obviously, Elven names," Alex said.

"Twigif is my best friend in Nature's Village. Thaleh is the herbalist. She fell in love with him?"

"Well, good for them. I'm next." Alex examined the professional chirography briefly and began to read the letter.

Greetings from Castle Serowik. I hope all is well in your household. I have spoken to my husband, and we feel it is time to put your talents to good use. We request that you cross the Summer Seas to the Badudang Island and deliver the Haloed Skein to She Who Charts the Midnight Skies. This journey is not to be taken lightly, but you may relax as befits your station. You will be compensated for your efforts. More to follow shortly.

Respectfully yours, Queen Innaud.

"That's it? She says Run and we say How fast? Sounds like she is trying to get rid of us."

"Possibly, but I had planned on leaving anyway," said Jun.

As much as they wished to visit the royal courts, they would have to settle for an epistolary communication. They felt somewhat betrayed-- good enough to earn medals for their unmatched bravery, but not good enough to attend a celebration with the elitists.

"Break yer seal, spy master," demanded the Dwarf.

The Kender scrunched half her face, unrolled the scroll, and read. Dear Juniper, Alexondra, and Teal, the Church of Renold would like to invite you to Ribrue Park as a debt of gratitude and a celebration of our historic victory over you know who, and also to continue our training in spellcraft. There will be many wholesome families, nutritious dishes, and much fun to be had in the sun.

I look forward to seeing you.

Best wishes, Adept Sage. Below her signature was a date and time.

"That's tomorrow!" cried the Elf. "I think we should do something special."

"Och, if she is willing to teach me another spell, then it will be special." All she knew was the basics. Simple cantrips to cool a beer or change your eye color. Not too earth-shattering.

"Let's pray you don't hurt yourself," teased Teal.

Arriving early the next day before the crowds, they met with Sage, and she taught them some novice spells according to their natural attributes and abilities. She told them spellcrafting was an important responsibility and not everyone could wrap their head around the mystical properties of magic. So the Adept was relieved they were fast learners and hadn't destroyed anything too important in their training. More powerful enchantments would have to wait until they mastered these beginning spells.

Alex had questions. "So, outside of an emergency, how will we know when to use these spells, and what happens when the magic runs dry?"

Jun said, rolling her eyes, "Don't you know? Use common sense, please."

"That's correct," Sage agreed.

"And if we ever lose our spells, then we fend for ourselves," added Teal.

"Och, I get it! All the better that we have these new powers and ken how to use them."

Adept Sage declaimed, "Ostensibly, it's a dangerous world. It's a constant struggle against the vices of men. The brothels, the fighting pits, the drug dens, and the secret chambers of cult worshipers will always attract the worst in humanity. My congratulations on a job well done."

"Under your tutelage, I'm sure we can do better," Teal fawned hopefully.

"I'm glad you feel that way, but your training with me is over."

"What? Nay, I have more to learn. Much more!"

"I was under the impression that this was an ongoing thing. What happened?"

Sage turned to Juniper. "Do you want to tell them or shall I? They're ready to learn the truth."

"Right." She nodded at her. "Sage is right. We don't need her help to cast or memorize spells. It's something in the core of our being. We only needed her as an impetus to get us started."

Gobsmacked, Alex stared at the Elf with her mouth wide open.

Teal mumbled, "You said she was sneaky, Alex."

The park's visitors began to trickle in, carrying casseroles, wide blankets, and other picnicking accessories. Sage said, "It's going to be a great day!" as she hurried to greet her flock. They met with a group led by Friar Lagraw, and he made introductions. Sister Margi, Sage's best friend, was nearly her equal in every way-- mature, yet witty and soulful. She had a sense of mystique about her. Abbot Slim introduced himself. He was in his thirties, fairly good-looking, square-jawed, and athletic. Very mature for his age, they concluded.

Sometime after the maypole skipping, sack races, and other children's games, the Friar started a popular sport known as Mudball, involving a flat wooden bat, a stitched leather ball, and four-foot cones placed to shape a diamond in the sward. The teenagers informed them how to play the game as they separated into two teams of nine players each.

Jun conferred with Friar Lagraw before they were divided into offensive and defensive teams. Sage, Alex, and the Friar on Team Grobe. Jun and Teal on Team Greeb. They were nonsensical words, but the children thought they were fun and silly enough to agree upon.

"How are you, Juniper?" Lardo the Friar, in plain clothes, his holy symbol resting on his shirt, was not his usual happy-go-lucky self.

"After that session, I feel like a brand new person, Friar Lagraw!"

He exhaled. "Your idealism is to be admired, but it won't work in the Metropolis of Thirst."

Unconsciously, she wrapped her sweatband around her forehead. "Why not?"

"Because the citizens are a corrupt, superstitious, and ignorant lot."

"Is that all?" She made the question sound curious.

"No. They're also crazy and desperate."

"I haven't experienced that yet."

"Give it time," the Friar warned.

A small boy named Germ was the first to bat. An older child, Braum, pitched to him underhanded. "Sawinga!" the rival team taunted. He missed two pitches, but struck the third and was thrown out before he reached the first cone. "Not fair," he cried.

"This is Mudball, Germ. All is fair," the pitcher patronized.

"Don't you worry, you'll get another chance," said Lardo, attempting to be comforting.

And so the afternoon went by with children splashing in an alabaster fountain carved of dolphins, a bevy of birds tweeting, squirrels running onto the field, plenty of runs being scored, and Friar Lardo Lagraw truly enjoying his last day.

Juniper took her turn. The underhanded pitch was thrown, and she smashed the soft leather ball high into the air. Previously, she had run all the cones and scored, but this time the Friar caught her ball barehanded, and the game was over. "Last out has to buy everyone a drink," he crowed. His team celebrated briefly before the Friar collapsed in the grass and moved no more. A respected figure of exalted religion, a pillar of the community, a former adventurer, a saver of lives, and now, at fifty-seven years old, he was deceased.

Confusion and shock swept through the players. The Fearless Foursome calmed the children as best they could and offered condolences, but the young ones began bawling when understanding dawned on them and were soon escorted away by the adults. Adept Sage sent Abbot Slim to fetch the local Vanguard. Juniper wondered why none of the Clerics predicted this unfortunate circumstance, and Sage replied, "Schools of Divination are rarely practiced because we don't want to see our own death coming."

"Oh, sorry. I hadn't thought of that."

"It's entirely okay. You're new to the ways of magic. However, it's why spellcasters withhold their arcane power before it can cause any unintended consequences."

Sister Margi inspected the dirty leather ball. It was only known as Mudball within their city walls. In other places, it would have a different name. "Nothing suspicious here," she informed Sage.

"Braum will be relieved to hear that," she said smartly.

Teal circled the Friar and began examining his body, looking closely at his face and neck. His exposed arms and legs had tanned, but nothing was harmfully obvious.

"What do ye think yer doing?" asked Alex.

Without turning to her, she said, "Checking the body for any unusual marks or foreign objects. What are you doing?"

The irascible Dwarf had no response.

She searched thoroughly, but nothing could be gathered as evidence of a crime. Teal stood up. "No marks or scratches. No poison dart in his hide. In my opinion, he died of natural causes."

"But ye donnae really know. Yer nae a doctor."

"I know enough! He was a good man, and I doubt he had any enemies."

Sage said, "I'm afraid she's correct, Alexondra. He had no enemies."

"Aye, but ye donnae seem so choked up about yer boss' death," she said accusingly.

"We face death and dying every day," she said, nonplussed. "Not to mention sickness, disease, and mental instability. I shall mourn his death in due time."

While they discussed, Jun pulled from a slender silver case, put a thin splif to her lips, and flicked her thumb to produce a spark of flame. Burning cloves tinged their noses. Teal said to Jun, "You smoke now?"

"I smoked before. It helps me cope with complex issues."

"Dare I try it?" the Kender asked herself.

When the abbot arrived trailing the Vanguard, they investigated briefly and came to the same conclusion as Teal. Lardo was carted back to the Church of Renold, where his body would be placed in state. Word of his death would soon reach the whole population of the city, and Adept Sage and her fellow clergy members would need to prepare for the massive congregation about to pay their respects.

They knew not what the future had in store for them. Lardo the Friar knew, but he would take that secret to the grave. Sage could if she took a chance on more divination rituals, but she also knew that was a risky prospect. Some things weren't meant to be divulged; they were meant to stay a mystery. There was only a single individual privy to their upcoming traumatic events and death-defying, stressful escapades, and that was the God of Fate.

The women were told to pray and study the scripture by the religious flock, but they rarely did, as none of them followed Renold. They stayed late, helping with the friar's wake, setting up flowery decor and holy sacraments. Later, Adept Sage recalled his best moments behind the pulpit, and Dylhon, the famous poet, read from his book a favorite passage of Lardo's, a bittersweet tale of long-lost love. It brought tears to everyone's eyes.

Two and a half days after the service, they said their farewells to Sage, Margi, and other parishioners, hoping that they observed proper protocol, because human funerals were slightly different than what they were accustomed to doing. Accordingly, Friar Lagraw was to be buried in the small churchyard, determined at a later time.

Exiting the glorious church and feeling somber, Jun, Alex, and Teal headed back home to the Roddam District only to immediately pack necessary essentials and leave for the Dryare docks in the morn. And yet they still hadn't heard from the queen or any of her entourage about the Haloed Skein. Mayhap, she had forgotten all about it.

The waxing moon of Threadim shone brightly on the empty roads of Vradenburg. It was an eerily quiet night except for the sound of their footfalls. Flickering lampposts were at the end of every block, giving the streets a sprinkling of mystery and romanticism. Teal sensed something odd. There! Movement from the darkness, a sneaky figure shadowing them. "Don't look now, but we're being followed," she whispered.

"Who would be following us and for what possible reason?" Jun wondered.

Alex stopped and wrenched her neck behind them. "Let's find out who it is."

"No!" Teal blurted, keeping her voice low. "You'll only scare him away."

They were nearing the Hoot Owl House when out of the darkness a squad of men strode toward them, clad in motley leathers and rags. More stepped into the lamplight from their left and right sides. "Surround them," a man's voice commanded. An unkempt bruiser with raccoon eyes blocked their path. "We want our diamonds, Teal-- before you skip town." His friends assented with "Yeahs!" and stiff, coarse body language.

Teal gulped and fabricated a lie on the spot. She said, "I don't have them. They're being fenced through my go-betweens. I'm sure you understand."

He gave a derisive snort. "You've had almost two weeks to finish the transactions. Give us our recompense... " he unsheathed his short sword, "or else."

"Who are these creeps?" The Dwarf gripped her mallet in anticipation. There would be no time to cast spells without arousing suspicion.

Rudimentary wooden clubs and knives were presented threateningly. One particular gangster brandished a pair of knuckledusters. Alex thought that he was not long for this world.

"This is the wicked Abrasa Gang, Alex." She rolled her eyes around the thugs, preparing her next move. "And this is Sebastian, their supposed leader."

Sebastian ignored her personal attack on his competence. "That's right. We struck a bargain, and now it's time to pay up."

"I don't have your money," Teal admitted freely. "But don't worry, it's in a safe space." Now she was slightly regretting her inherent avarice. She had collected considerable earnings under the employ of her guild, and she had to ask herself, Was the 'worth', worth it all?

At the mention of money, shuttered windows opened, and awakened neighbors poked out their heads to watch the spectacle.

"Take us to it, then," he ordered.

"No," said Teal Nickelclipper. She would renege on the deal, and her decision was final. She had little pity for these gangsters and their disgraceful methods.

"What do you mean, 'No?" From the corner of his eye, he saw Alex crack her knuckles.

"Cut your losses, lowlife, and walk away."

Notes of mysterious flute music sprang to their ears. Now, who would be playing at a time like this? When their lives were at stake? The heroines felt their skin tingle briefly, and they suddenly noticed the gangster's eyes appeared dilated and glazed over as if they were possessed by demons.

Sebastian smiled evilly. "You must be joking. I will cut off your fingers and toes one by one, Halfling."

"That's racist, and I take offense!"

She pulled the band on her staff, and a marble from her sling stung him in the cheek. He yelped, then hissed, "Kill them all!"

Juniper drew her longsword, Birelance. Again, they were outnumbered, but only by a couple, thank the Gods, and not by a hundred. When would they ever encounter a fair fight?

"Heads are gonna get squished, my baby," Alex muttered to her old stone hammer.

"No mercy!" one of them grunted, and the others repeated it. Everybody swung their weapons simultaneously.

Jun blocked a ruffian's spiked wooden club and cut through another's short sword, but the thugs kept advancing, trying to overpower them. Alex began counting each moron clobbered over the head. Number six took a ramming to the gut. "Och! I lost count already!" Unexpectedly, Teal stepped on Alex's knee, leaped at a henchman, and stabbed at his back with her poniard. He cried in pain, attempted to reach for her, and she punched him twice more through his hardened leather before he fell to the cobblestone pavement dead.

"Gods, Teal!" Jun exclaimed in shock.

"I'm small. What's his excuse?" Teal remarked heartlessly.

In a circular movement, Juniper and Alex did their best to protect Teal by keeping the gang at arm's length, eventually disarming or knocking them nearly unconscious. The knucklehead with the knuckledusters lost a tooth. He was lucky the Elf didn't behead him! Unfortunately, they were a tough crew, and they kept on recovering. The two weren't murderers naturally, and now would have no choice but to kill them outright.

A mystery man jumped into the fray. Making strange noises, he stunned them with a single punch, and then nunchakas flew from his body, hitting what he aimed at precisely while dodging blows that would have maimed him if struck true. He fought like a wild dancer, kicking high and spinning his nunchakas with purpose and skill. Juniper couldn't help but wonder at his form and physique. There was a pause in the fight when the villains contemplated whether to flee or continue the battle.

He said, "I am in mourning, but this is where my grief dies."

When the threesome saw his chiseled face, they recognized him immediately. It was the abbot swaying smoothly in a white, loose-fitting tunic that crisscrossed around his torso and baggy trousers with black padding protecting his elbows and knees. His wavy chestnut locks bounced with every step.

"You can die along with your grief," Sebastian threatened and swung. The abbot dodged, flicked his nunchukas, and broke Sebastian's sword and hand. He yelped in unbearable pain. The brutality was over as the remaining Abrasa Gang ran for darkened alleyways, abandoning their idiotic leader. "Wait! Come back here," he pleaded. "You will regret this!"

"They chose the path of least resistance, the path of sinful cowardice."

Sebastian looked at him with cold eyes and a colder heart. "You will regret this, too, Monk." He walked away clutching his hand, kicked his dazed henchmen, and disappeared down the street.

"Where the Ayetch are the Vanguard when ye need them?" Alex wondered.

"We thieves take care of our own, Alex. We don't want outside interference."

"But when the gang gets caught ye'll be brought up on racketeering charges ere long."

"Then it's a good thing you're leaving the city," Nathaniel said.

"They should've known better," Jun said in disappointment. "Have we lost our status as famous heroines?" Her question wasn't rhetorical, but it went unanswered.

Previously, they were approached by the reputable Trio of Indoan, who wanted to offer them what their adoring public had missed-- A chance to see their Fearless Foursome in action! A daring venture, fighting against all odds, battling their worst fears, and finally triumphing over rotten, despicable evil. Shake hands, and the partnership will be complete. It seemed too good to be true, and we all know how that ends. Famous heroines being duped by hucksters doesn't make one heroic anymore. But they were endorsed and financed by the king and queen. Besides, they had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Erin, the charismatic bard, would narrate their story theatrically while Taylor, the Tiefling illusionist would recreate the scenes, and Nusqit, a Gnomish wizard, would provide the extra effects. The Fearless Foursome agreed wholeheartedly, but Sage also wanted the church's approval. It was granted without question. Her superiors realized that without her leadership and testimony, the citizenry could accuse them of telling a tall tale, not that Renold was known for exaggerating the facts! Doubtless, the rumors would start. A miraculous event in which a chosen few got to experience, and in which there were no other witnesses? After all, what proof did they have except for two separate skeleton attacks? Moreover, the heroines chose to flee the city when they learned the hospital was engulfed in flames. That did not look good on their record. And according to the Vanguard, Teal had already been arrested once. If Vincent and his Shadow Hunters decided to come forward and tell their side of the story, they couldn't confirm the necromancer's presence at the ruined castle when all they saw were numerous skeletons and dogs in a knock-down free-for-all. However, King Iroma had survived Xadof Haws' betrayal (who was now also dead, thanks to Cleric Sage burning his clone to a cinder), but nobody knows what he knows. So, not only would a good showing provide credence to their story, but also entertainment to the masses.

As their last preparation, all the magic users really needed was a description of the Shadow Hunters, who at the moment were nowhere to be found. Nevertheless, the women did enjoy giving their best (or worst, depending on how you perceived it) explanations. Within the week, they watched themselves, the Fearless Foursome (and an embellished Flyz) at the local pavilion in the park as their adventures played before a crowd of the body politic, many clearly outside the realm of Credomia. The trio's magic worked to establish tension and camaraderie in the appropriate places, and when the necromancer met his final doom, cheers erupted from the bottom of hearts. Afterward, the Vanguard were the only detractors in their portrayal, but word had reached far beyond the confines of Vradenburg, and if the Fearless Four weren't popular before, they certainly were now.

"Thanks for the save," said Teal. "You must've noticed the hoodlums before I did."

Abbot Slim nodded. "I also noticed their puncture wounds where they shot themselves with Ullod."

Jun looked confused. "Never heard of it."

Of all these past months, neither Alex nor Teal discussed the dangerous drug with her. When ingested or injected, Ullod not only caused a euphoric sense of self but also great strength and a numbness to pain. Although the side effects were numerous-- abnormal thoughts, irritability, prone to acts of violence, and most importantly, a fear of fire.

"Really? I'm shocked." He blinked. "I'm shocked because Flyz was mixing the compounds and producing them in his laboratory. Those footpads must've been empowered on his last batch.

The Wood Elf stared at him. "I'm speechless."

"That's a first! Ye've struck Raindrop speechless," Alex said gleefully.

"I assume that wasn't us boosting ourselves?" the Kender queried.

"No," he patted the wind instrument in his pocket, "my Flute of Triumph gave you a boost. By the by, you could've used your new magic. Don't be afraid to try it."

"So, you were the one making music."

They gradually came to the realization that this man was much different than the one playing Mudball. That man was jovial and carefree, and by comparison, this one was all business. Contrary to his former juvenile humor, he now exuded machismo, and they discerned the toned contours of his musculature through the fluidity of his battling prowess.

"Yes, I was. And please call me Nathaniel." He secured his nunchakas in a handmade holster tied at his thigh.

"I don't suppose you teach that fighting style to others?" Jun wondered curiously.

"No, not I. But there is a temple far to the west that will."

"Oh? I know a boy who could use a lesson," Teal said.

"Then send him my way," he offered in a deep voice.

Jun spoke. "Excuse me, Nathaniel."

"Something else, dear Juniper?"

She nearly lost her train of thought. "It's not that important, but do you perform wedding ceremonies?"

"Unfortunately, no. That was one of the Friar's duties. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, my best friend is getting married soon."

Now Alex spoke up. "Aye, in a trackless forest miles upon miles away! Why even bother the man?"

Sometimes Dwarves were as clueless as a killdeer thought Juniper.

The Monk reached into a small pouch and held something shiny out to Teal. A golden bolt of fabric. "This is the Haloed Skein. It slipped my mind earlier. I'm sorry. It fell into my hands on account of the Friar's passing."

"I wondered what was going on, Nathaniel." She twirled it whimsically. "Can you tell me why it's so important?"

He smiled. "It's been enchanted multiple times by the She Who Charts the Midnight Skies' request, but don't ask me why. I guess whatever she fashions from it is to be her secret. Anyway, it's your responsibility now."

"I will take good care of it." She pivoted toward the Hoot Owl House and said, "Uh, would you care for a cup of tea? We live close by." There was still that mental block in her mind that refused to trust strangers.

He acknowledged the other two and smiled again. "No, thank you. I have other priorities, and I must rise early at the monastery."

"Ah, okay." She was tapping at her temple out of habit. "You will let Adept Sage know what has transpired tonight and that we are in good health."

"Of course, Teal." He clasped his hands together and bowed low. "Safe journey and may luck be with you," he wished them and walked out of their lives.

"Fare thee well, Nathaniel," Jun wished back and thought about how he would look with his tunic off.

Sailing the Summer Seas

Adept Sage McCarty dreamt.

All was fog. Foggy thoughts. It began to clear. Slowly. Things took shape in the murk. She swayed on her feet. The air tasted salty. Rigging creaked. Continuous waves lapped at the hull. Ocean. A ship surrounded by cerulean. A main mast stretched into the clouds. All was calm. Then somebody cried from the crow's nest. What did he say? Storm ale? Figures rushed to starboard and pointed. Shocked faces. A rare, yet natural phenomenon of epic proportions occurred. Was occuring? Time within a dream is abstract. The water spun and spread open like an unplugged drain. Down it went. The haggard, wild-eyed captain appeared and shouted orders. The crew ran to their posts. Sails were drawn. The first mate leaned on the wheel. Extra weight was thrown overboard. The anchor was released too late. A deckhand claimed it was no use. "You've doomed us! Doomed us all, King Zungal!" So... the sea captain was actually the Mad King Zungal! The same King who abdicated his throne and fled across the world for parts unknown. She was witnessing the last voyage of the Ark of Kald. Good riddance, thought she.

The antediluvian galleon swirled into the maelstrom as her disembodied form floated above. Thinking the dimensions within a dream were a nebulous, hazy experience where your own thoughts could sometimes wander uncontrollably... but then the scene sped up rapidly. The sky brightened, and the sea became clearer. The King's shape shimmered and changed into someone she didn't recognize. He wore a patch over his left eye. Perhaps a true captain, not a king pretending to be one. The vessel also lost its bulk and mass. It had become a junk trawler. Most of the crew disappeared, leaving few and far between. These she did recognize.

Three fearless demi-humans. Aboard the trawler, they struggled to keep their balance. The storm attempted to drown them before they were cast into the seas.

"What do we do?" a female voice yelled.

"Say yer prayers, Juniper, for thar's nothing to be done. We're doomed!" A tiny Halfling screamed maniacally as the unstoppable maelstrom swallowed them into oblivion and a deep watery death.

"NO!" shouted Sage at the top of her lungs. She awoke in her modest dormitory at the Church of Renold. Her heart thumped, and her whole body was covered in sweat. Why would her three friends be in danger now? They were relaxing on vacation. Obviously, this had something to do with Castle Zungal. But if it was cursed, she would've known.

Nevertheless, a wise Cleric didn't believe in coincidences. "There must be something I can do," she told the empty room. It was the middle of the night, but she was determined to discuss her dream with Sister Margi and Abbot Slim. Sage donned her purple robe and her magical ruby talisman and hoped she was not already too late. If she were, then there would be no more sleep this night.

At Castle Serowik, when King Iroma held arms against his two-faced, sly wizarding imposter, the weaselly Xadof Haws and his threat to spread pure chaos with his amorphous shadow creatures (something that proved faulty when he and his elite bodyguards finally dispatched him), he knew it was time for some changes. It became clear that he had an important decision to make-- a political crisis concerning his Vradenburg Vanguard. Before the demonologist's treachery, everything ran smoothly. His guards had kept the creeping swamp monsters at bay and the people relatively safe, but now, the reports were that his forces had become too lenient and lazy. The proof was substantiated by letting a necromancer loose upon the city. He realized that one wrong move, the walls would crumble down around him, figuratively speaking. It was his job to delegate authority competently.

He knew the corruption ran deep in his force, but would he turn a blind eye while they broke the rules? He would have to choose whether it was worth upholding the laws, bad as they were for the citizens, or to start changing some unfair policies. He spoke to his advisors and they suggested he keep things plain and simple before he decreed anything too drastic into the books. After all, why break something that isn't broken, they said? They debated back and forth about the hypocrisy of it all. He argued it was his magnificent countenance on the money, his legacy to be remembered. What he ultimately proposed would satisfy everyone from the ruling elite to the indigent commoners. As a result, the laws would stay the same, but he had to hire a multitude of new recruits after firing many of his precious Vanguard. Mayhap, he thought, some changes were better than no changes.

Furthermore, King Kaj's tyrannical encroachment on his border caused other problems and was considered an extreme concern. Skirmishes with Calleton's barbarian hordes were becoming more frequent, and he had nearly lost an outpost in the Ithorn Forest to the north, but as long as Kaj and his fanatical armies stayed on their end of Credomia everything would be fine as Enerf silk.

After their adventure on the outskirts of Vradenburg and the ultimate defeat of the resurrected Flyz Grimgland, the three demi-humans-- Juniper, the Elf, Alexondra, the Dwarf, and Teal, the Halfling, began to celebrate their burgeoning fame by vacationing on the islands of the Summer Seas, far southward in the Contradictory Ocean.

Their de facto leader, Cleric Sage was obligated to stay behind, for there still was a minor threat of a plague spreading throughout the city-- an intentional consequence of allowing a Necromancer to wander aimlessly about and conduct his awful business without repercussions. Not to mention her newfound popularity amongst the entrenched citizens. Religious or not, they visited the Church of Renold in droves. It brought more responsibilities, but also more respect. Long before his demise, she was instructed by Friar Lagraw to study and practice her very own sermon while he oversaw the staff and maintained order in the church. She was the youngest ever to be promoted to Adept, and the honorific swelled within her, and the people couldn't be prouder.

At the Kippo Point Harbor, a four-masted galleon docked on the wharf awaited them. Uniformed marines in tan strained muscles on ropes, hauled equipment, shouted orders at each other, and generally caused a ruckus, sorting order from disorder. The ship loomed above them, fully armed with cannon and a long-range harpoon. It was a sight to behold.

They walked down the pier lugging their gear, dodging swinging cargo, and were halted at the gangplank. On the deck above, a tall man in a naval hat and a groomed chevron mustache with plenty of medals pinned to his double-breasted coat greeted them. "Bootiful day, innit?" He smiled, showing clean teeth.

"You're the captain, I presume?"

"Indeed, I am, fair Elf maiden! Friendly passengers call me Captain Kelly."

"Big crew," she remarked offhandedly.

"The U.N.C. Oscar is a sturdy military vessel posted with one hundred and thirty seasoned men ready to fight for your honor, ladies."

He was as handsome as he was charming, but she couldn't quite put a finger on his accent. "We're the Fearless Foursome. Well, I mean to say, we were. There's only three of us now. Adept Sage had other priorities. She came up with the name."

Alex and Teal shot a look at each other, realizing their friend was rambling like a school kid who had forgotten the assignment.

"No worries. Everybody knows who you are, Juniper," said Thomas Kelly.

Teal had heard enough. "Permission to climb aboard, Cap?"

"Aye, permission certainly granted." He removed his hat and bowed respectfully.

As they struggled with their heavy leather sacks, the Captain called loudly, "Gopher! Gopher! You there. Where the blazes is Gopher?" Before the stevedore could answer, Gopher appeared, seemingly from nowhere. "Here, skipper! I'm here!" He saluted.

The threesome was surprised by what they saw. A furry, pudgy, bewhiskered rodent wobbled into view. He wore shortened pantaloons and a shorter sword. It was a sentient, bipedal half-beast!

Thomas saluted back. "Help them with their bags and show them their room, will you?"

"Aye, aye, skipper." Gopher quickly recruited two burly men to aid him. Alex began to argue, but eventually relinquished her backpack and bedroll.

"We disembark within the hour to gorgeous Badudang Island. If you need me, I'll be in my cabin." He watched the demi-humans ascend the gangplank, pivoted to overlook his crew, then marched away to fill out ledgers and other tedious paperwork. Being the captain of a military vessel wasn't all fun and games.

Birchseed Hyacinth turned a corner and scanned the boardwalk for the U.N.C. Oscar. He had to catch it before it set sail, or he would lose the bet he wagered at Irutide Inn, half a world away. He noticed a full-masted galleon was unmooring from the dock and starting its journey on the open sea. That must be it! He sprinted down the pier, avoiding muscly stevedores, swarthy mariners, and awaiting passengers alike. He nearly tripped, fell over a child, but caught his balance, and kept running. He jumped over rolling barrels and spun around a clumsy oaf carrying luggage awkwardly. "Wait! Wait!" he shouted. It was all for naught as he reached the empty dock that had held the ship only moments before. Too late.

"Devil's daughters," Birchseed cursed. He craned his neck, shielded his eyes, and looked to the sky. "Where is that birdbrain? T'wano?" He knew that without him, there was no chance of boarding the drifting Oscar. "T'wano!" he yelled.

Birchseed despaired as the galleon sped further and further away. He bellowed as loudly as he could. "T'wano!" He was about to sound off a third time when a noisy response-- a sing-song tweeting came from above. Descending over the warehouses flew a big bright bluejay with a shiny yellow beak that clutched his shoulders in its claws and began to wing him over the waves of seafoam.

The Elf pumped a fist in the air in triumph. "Go! Go! We've got to reach that ship!" The birdman swooped and dipped clumsily toward the puttering galleon. At the highest tip, their Arin flag whipped lackadaisically.

On board, the crew watched and pointed at them. Someone asked the Captain if they should shoot them out of the sky. "No, that won't be necessary." He added, "Hold your fire, everyone!"

"Land on the main deck, T'wano. Next to the captain, there. That's a good bird," he coaxed.

As T'wano set him down, he pumped his wings once more and landed next to his Elven friend. It said in a childish voice, "I demand gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!"

"Don't shoot. We're on the manifest," promised the Grey Elf. His hair was parted in the middle, and a lengthy braid ran behind each pointed ear. Around his torso flashed a cream colored and crimson jacket with decorative chain loops and epaulets about his shoulders. Matching trousers and buckled boots complemented the ensemble. Firmly attached to his belt, a scabbard held his lightweight rapier, set with a purple gem in its hilt, and holstered at his left hip, a recently polished firearm. A cord around his neck supported an ivory rhino horn full of gunpowder.

"We won't shoot unless you give us a good reason. Now, who are you? And kindly state your business aboard my vessel."

Birchseed adjusted his backpack. "Greetings, Captain..." he let the introduction drift, giving Thomas a chance to answer.

Because it was basic information the Captain knew who he was by the initial registration when he booked the voyage. After all, what kind of passenger would trust an inexperienced Captain? He had been sailing for 25 years. "You know who I am," he said gruffly.

"Ah, yes, of course. And I am Hyacinth Birchseed, and my flying companion here is T'wano. He's a Kenku." The blue jay was seven feet tall and darted its head about, studying the mariners. "As I said, we're on the manifest. Check your logbook."

In a shrill female voice, T'wano said, "You parasitic... spineless... disrespectful traitor!" The surrounding crewmen snickered.

"Gopher, fetch me the book," ordered Captain Kelly.

"I do apologize, Captain, the Kenku is a bird of limited vocabulary. He can only repeat words or sounds he hears in perfect mimicry."

The petty officer was present, read from the ship's log, and confirmed the two newest oddball passengers. "Aye, aye. Birchseed and T'wano. Better late than never, Captain, sir."

Kelly wondered what was so important that they would miss the ship's disembarkation, but thought twice before asking. Another smart remark from the bird, and he would throw them both in the brig. Nevertheless, they would be given a tour of the U.N.C. (Under Naval Command) Oscar by the first mate, Gopher, in the afternoon. Finally, with their differences settled, they were shown their lodging and served iron rations and birdseed.

The women's quarters were decorated with an oversized fluffy bed, an economical closet, a comfortable chair, and a hanging wall mirror. After dropping their luggage and getting comfortable did the trio begin to feel at ease. Leaving the City of Mud and all its problems behind was a humongous weight off their shoulders. Assuredly, they could look forward to the sights and sounds of a voyage into unexplored territory. It would be an exciting time, they mused.

Jun said, "It's too bad Sage couldn't join us. She doesn't know what she's missing."

Alex replied, "Aye, seasickness. Me constitution is fine on land, but nae on a boat." She fished a ginger root out of her pocket and bit into it, then proffered it to Teal. She knew better than to offer any to Jun, who had plenty of experience on the sea.

"No thanks, I don't get sick," said Teal.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Tell me why we're doing this again." Suddenly, she felt regretful that she was back on a ship for the second time in her life.

Jumping on the bed, the Kender said excitedly, "Because, just like you, we're born explorers!" She raised both arms as high as she could.

"She's absolutely correct," Jun said.

"I'd rather be exploring caves a thousand feet down."

"The ocean can drop thousands of feet," said the Elf.

Alex spun her head comically. "You're nae helping me cope, Juniper."

"I apologize, Alexondra."

Teal spread her arms out from her chest. "You do realize this will be a looooong voyage."

"I do nae need reminding. Gods, I'm just a woman bored with blacksmithing and wanted something new." Her despondency was deepening.

"Well, good for you. Exploring is about discovering new things."

"She's right, you know," agreed Jun.

"Stop agreeing with her," Alex grunted.

A knock at their door stopped the subject of Dwarven inspiration when they were invited by a ship's steward to meet Gopher on the main deck and take a formal tour of the massive galleon.

When they approached the crowd of passengers, ostensibly, a group who could afford safe passage across the Summer Seas, Gopher greeted them and asked the others to introduce themselves. They were met by a Blair, a wealthy merchant, his eccentricity and arrogance on full display, and whose girth stretched many a belt to its limits; Eel Barind, a shifty tradesman who talked too much and haggled too little, as evidenced by his selling of candied sweets on them; Ajax, a gruff Dwarven engineer whose only reason for this trip was to rendevous with another of his kin to receive an urgent and secretive message. Only one passenger, Patrice, was absent because he wanted to get to work as soon as possible. For him, this was no voyage of leisure, though he refused to say who had employed him and what work he was hired to do.

Then Juniper was introduced to an Elf and his avian pet. "Birchseed, at your service, milady." He stepped toward her and kissed her hand. She demurred but did not blush, for she had experienced this type of friendliness before.

"Nice to meet you," she responded very properly.

The mercurial Kenku said, "Are you any good at geometry? Because if you were, you'd be a cute triangle," in someone else's voice.

Birchseed grimaced. "T'wano! Naughty T'wano." He apologized in sincerity. "This is my trusty companion, T'wano. He's a Kenku."

"He sure is flirtatious," Alex teased and reached to tousle his feathers. Teal did the same. The Kenku hummed contentedly.

"I love him," squealed Teal, losing her hardened composure in the moment.

As the tour began, Gopher described amidships, the crow's nest high above their heads, the rigging and sails in detail, all the while watching the crew perform the required tasks to keep the ship running. Answering their curious questions, they ventured to the decks below, where he shushed them as they saw the night shift currently asleep in their hammocks. He then showed the barrels of gunpowder, cannons, and stacks of sixteen-pound balls, and his own pistol. He led them from stern to bow, pointing out the keel and rudders in the former, the massive anchor, harpoon gun, and the beautiful maiden figurehead with strategically placed seashells in the latter. "She is Peyton, the Goddess of Safe Voyages," Gopher explained. Finally, he instructed that the Captain's cabin was a bastion of privacy unless invited. Above the cabin, on the bridge, the tour ended as they watched Captain Kelly steer the Oscar through endless salty waters.

There was an eloquence of mystery in the air. Time seemed to be at a standstill. Everything from the clear cerulean skies to the stinkiest boatswain was perfectly immaculate. The sun, Everbeid, gave them hope for better days ahead.

They left the bridge and watched a group of young mariners train and hone their nautical skills whilst under pressure from a master sergeant shouting constant orders. In a slow, aimless daydream, they walked from stercastle to forecastle, taking in the sights, as the galleon rocked gently across the Summer Sea.

"Where do you hail from, Juniper?"

"I come from the illustrious city of Lemirn, a hundred leagues away, centered on Lion Isle, the biggest and greatest island on all of Threadim." Across the Contradictory Sea, the capital city was a hub of activity. Commerce, politics, fashion, art, food, and entertainment- a cornucopia of splendor!

"If it's so great, then why did ye leave?"

"I had to discover my independence, Alexondra. Where do you call home, Birchseed?"

"Please, Birchseed is fine. Far to the southeast, there is a place called Jornmil, a series of hamlets off the beaten path. It's very primitive. I didn't fit in, so I set out to seek my fortunes in distant lands."

"Oh, and what about T'wano?"

He flapped down when he heard his name, mostly out of curiosity. "The bird rescued me from a Hanging Tree in Savage Oflay almost a decade ago now. Yeah, I was caught in its noose of vines, being strangled and losing consciousness when T'wano bit through them and saved me the embarrassment of dying from a stupid sycamore tree."

"Och! We know a Dwarf with a special axe that could've helped you."

Birchseed politely acknowledged her. "Well, anyway, I set fire to it and we used it as a fire camp that night."

"Yum, yum. Roast mutton. Yum," said T'wano in a baritone voice.

For the remainder of the day, they discussed their past, and Birchseed was shocked to learn that they were members of the Fearless Foursome, as he was far too busy with his own livelihood. So they reminisced as they tanned under the summertime sun, Juniper and Birchseed bonding over their rich Elven ancestry.

When they finally retired for the night, they were pleasantly surprised to see a beefy, well-armed man stationed at their door. He informed them that he was there to protect them as a precaution. "Captain's orders." Understandably, they could appreciate the concern, but they felt that if danger came calling, they could protect themselves. After all, none of U.N.C. Oscar's crew battled an army of relentless skeletons and their necromantic master to the death!

Assassin!

Somehow, the four-hundred-ton galleon was losing its propulsion and had slowed to a crawl. Naturally, with the darkness came a quiet time, when a third of the crew manned the ship at night. But noise on the main deck, below deck, passengers' quarters, and even steerage was nil. There was no light conversation heard, window ports slammed, drunken sea shanties being sung, or sailors dragging chains under a lantern's glow. Only the sound of masts snapping in the winds of uncertainty. It was an abnormality, an eerie quality, as if the ship were being sabotaged on purpose.

Teal, a light sleeper, awoke to the unmistakable sound of an argument. Two men yelling at each other, then a loud cry. She arose from a double-wide, lofty bed, yanking the duvet off Juniper and awakening her.

"What's going on?" asked Jun in a haze. Alex lay at the foot, snoring lightly.

"Something happening up top. I'm going to investigate."

She dug frantically for a shaved licorice root (one of many) in her pocket, bit into it, and said, "Shredbice." The root disappeared almost before she could taste it. In double time, she dressed, wrapping her cloak around her neck and snapping the opal clasp at the last.

Jun spun on her backside, clutched her headband on the bedpost, and tucked it over her ears. "I thought I was dreaming that noise."

"Well, you weren't," was the curt rejoinder as the Kender armed herself with the Hoopka and bolted for the cabin door, feeling proud that her spell worked.

"Hey, wait for me," pleaded Jun. She quickly donned her leather jerkin, grabbed the Birelance, and paused to consider the ailing Dwarf. She whispered, "Poor baby," then rushed for the door. She instructed their bodyguard to keep watch over Alex before chasing after Teal. He could only answer with a yawn.

When she reached the deck, Teal was out of her sight. Before she could take another step, a splash came from her left. Her point of view was starburst-- meaning straight ahead. In the palest moonlight, she dashed towards the commotion, the sea breeze sweeping her lengthy curls over her eyes.

The Oscar moved over a calm sea, the waves lapping softly against the prow while an overtired crew helmed the operation. A green lantern lit the starboard side towards the bow. Two men met under the cover of a black moon. Threadim's moon, Omalark, happened to be in its new phase and would not be seen til tomorrow night. The larger, dressed in a finely woven doublet and matching puffy pantaloons, seemed to be made of money. His lopsided face and body were quite noticeable, likely due to years of inbreeding. The other, of an average height and weight, wore a jack, trousers, and gloves that were jet black with silver trim. His sandy blonde hair contrasted with the leather. He also carried a rapier on his right hip. The ocean spray misted about them.

The wealthy councilman clutched at his belt in smarmy confidence. "Silly man, what is the meaning of this meeting? I hope your master knows what you--"

Usually, the political discourse was structured in ethics and scruples. This man had none. "Blair, you fat whale!" He took offense that his possible slavery was rudely insinuated.

The obese aristocrat chuckled. "I've been called far worse. Now, who are you?"

"You may call me Patrice." It was a throwaway alias, but the man still hated the name. The Badudang tribes suggested it when they arranged the meeting. Perhaps it was a name from his past, long-buried.

Blair was more than a profitable merchant. As a politician, he was a warmonger and slave trader known for his rapacious tactics among his fellow council members. But when he started to betray their trust, that was a violation that couldn't be ignored. "Again, I ask--"

"Don't bother. You cannot blackmail your colleagues, threatening to reveal all their secrets. The Budadang tribes will not stand for it."

"Excuse me, but you don't seem to understand how politics work," he said with a playful pout. He was sweaty, and his breath smelled of fresh tuna and caviar.

"On the contrary, friend, it seems you are the one who doesn't understand politics."

Next to them, a thick, corded rope lay in an organized pile. All at once, his arms danced rhythmically, and he invoked the words, "Udarblirmy!"

The strong hempen loosened, began to move like a snake, and the overdressed "whale" turned to run. He screamed for help before the rope unraveled, swarmed him, and lifted him into the air. Patrice hadn't counted on how loud his victim would be. If their casual conversation didn't attract attention, Blair's loud mouth was bound to awaken every seaman on board, and it would've if he hadn't the wherewithal to spike tonight's clam chowder with a sleeping powder.

"It's nothing personal, you understand. This is business," he said in a callous tone. This was to be his first contract hit as a professional assassin. He was trained to be inscrutable, to make no mistakes, and his cold heart complemented his new vocation.

Fully coiled, the diplomat levitated high above the deck, begging for his life to be spared. He blubbered between salty tears, "What do you want!? I'll do anything. I'll do whatever you want."

"Anything? Anything I want? That's sweet of you, but there's only one thing I want from you."

"What is it? I'll do it! I swear!!" Spittle flew as his face turned blue.

A foreboding grimace spread across his face. "Mister Blair Fochgripe, Esquire, I want you to die."

Heavy-set Blair yowled under the tightening pressure of the rope, but he would not expire. This was a big problem for Patrice. Fortunately for him, he had a backup plan. Not wanting to dirty his hands, he threw a thin dagger at the fat man's heart. It struck true, and he gasped his last breath. Then he threw another at his distended gut out of disgust. How could somebody let themselves go so far without realizing how stupid they looked? The dead man went over the side and into the sea. Good riddance on behalf of my employer, he thought ruthlessly.

His nefarious deed finished, he cast a Disguise Self spell just to be extra careful of any hidden eyeballs and began to return to his sleeping quarters. In a second, he changed. He was a foot taller, a bit wider, and was adorned as one of the crew, in a tan cap, tunic, and flared pantaloons. Also, his oval-shaped face became more rectangular. A cleft chin appeared, and his button nose thinned, became longer, and his sandy blonde hair became curly, darker, and shoulder-length.

By manipulating events in his favor, Patrice personally guaranteed assurances that his plans would succeed by a large margin. Henceforth, the illusion he generated was of the sailor who had pranked him throughout his formative years when they attended school together. And as providence would have it, he was also consigned to the Oscar. He hoped that he would be the one blamed for killing Blair, the councilman, whilst appearing as a man he felt deserving of a grudge not to be forgotten. So, the newly altered killer gained the countenance of a cowardly seaman and casually walked away from the crime scene. Now, he thought clinically, if there were no witnesses, then he was a free man.

If Teal hadn't increased her speed, she would never have seen the councilor's body drop. "Man overboard!" she shouted. High above in the crow's nest, the lookout started to awaken from his stupor, but he had also eaten the soup and could not recover.

Patrice thought he had an exit strategy. He was wrong. Who was this kid, and why was she trying to play hero? Under the cover of darkness, she looked like a child. He regretted his awful luck.

"Stop right there!" Teal ordered, brandishing her Hoopka, spear end pointing at him. "Hands where I can see them!" She tried to sound intimidating.

"Nice stick, little girl." He placed a hand on his fencing foil but didn't release it from its sheath. "You should put the toy down and let the adults handle this."

"Not a chance."

About twenty feet away, the leftover stack was still uncoiling as the tense palaver continued, but would soon be gone as the susurration of the rope against the railing insisted. The patronizing sailor seemed not to have a care in the world.

"Okay, but ask yourself, 'Do you want me, or do you want the councilman?"

The Kender eyed the dwindling rope and the suspected assassin. She calculated that she would have enough time to attack and save the nobleman. As she lunged forward with the Hoopka, Patrice miraculously dodged the stick, jumped behind an empty barrel as she lunged again, and she had to yank on it twice to loosen it. "You're faster than you look."

He laughed in jest. "Someone is always faster, stronger, smarter than you. Remember that."

"I'll remember your face," she warned. "You won't get away." She turned and ran for the end of the rope.

Jun ducked to avoid a swinging winch and bumped into a man wearing a typical sailor's uniform. He stood taller than her and focused on her with his steely eyes. He seemed confident in his movements, and yet there was something off about him. Mayhap because she was the one with a drawn weapon. "Watch it, you clumsy Elf," he insulted.

She held her tongue and thought it best to appraise the situation first. "Have you seen a Kender running around here?" Behind stacked crates, Teal was out of their view.

He could've held his tongue and kept walking, easily making his escape, but he said, "I believe she might need your help over yonder," and pointed past stacked wooden crates.

Her brow furrowed, and her eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you give her a hand? You must've seen her."

Good question, he thought. "Damn. Everybody's so suspicious." Patrice unsheathed his sword and prepared to fight. He twirled it in circles and began to dance around her. He acted as though he were a proficient swordfighter.

"We'll have to make this quick," said Jun. The Birelance countered his thrust, and his rapier melted, leaving the cad with a broken dagger, more or less.

His left lip contorted into a wicked grimace. He grunted in disgust and threw the dagger at Jun, where it struck her chest. Jagged though it was, it didn't penetrate her jerkin. True that she found herself late for the action, but it was quite literally the armor that she couldn't live without.

So now he was as harmless as a field mouse. She imitated his swordplay and asked, "Do you yield?"

"Yield? No, we're not done yet." He raised his left arm high and said, "Gnuhin dif Luminar!" A dark sword of crystallized energy apparated in his hand. "This is my Shadow Blade. An equal, if not better compliment to yours."

She gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Impressive, but do you know how to use it?" She took the initiative and attacked.

Teal was on her backside, leveraging her legs against the gunwale, with the rope playing tug of war over the railing and into the near bottomless drink. She strained her muscles, but the man weighed too much, and she was fighting incessant, choppy waves. With all her strength, she struggled to pull the body aboard. He would be lost forever if she didn't get a helping hand. She craned her neck back, looking upside down, and caught sight of Juniper and the man readying for a sword fight!

Thank goodness the knots in the rope were at regular intervals, or otherwise her palms would be shredded. Teal slipped, and the rope dropped further into the sea. She wouldn't hold much longer. "Cheese curds! I'm a wily thief, not a muscle-bound--"

Suddenly, the rope lightened in her hands, and she heard tweeting. Someone sang a jaunty tune, a cappella. "Rhyme, rhyme! Rhyme on time!" A bright blue figure appeared above the ship, flapping hard, rising and serenading the expanse of starlight, wings spread wide.

She relaxed her grip and got to her feet. "T'wano!" she breathed out in elation. The little Kender watched as the Kenku rose high in the night sky, the heavy body clutched in its talons, ropes still dangling. "Cuckoo clocks chime. Cuckoo clocks fly on time!" the bird man sang and transitioned into vocalizing as he descended and hit the deck.

"Stay and watch the body, T'wano." Teal would have to inspect it later. This was becoming a habit; two dead bodies in as many weeks. Being an adventurer, she had to accept it as part of her job description. "It's a living," she complained, shrugged, then ran to help Jun and join the fight.

"Your left, your left is right. The meaning is sublime," T'wano finished his nonsensical verse, step dancing and swiveling his beak as an avian should.

When T'wano began singing high above the deck, Jun became distracted. When she saw the fat, dripping wet, dead body in his claws, it reminded her of Flyz the Necromancer. What a nightmare to relive!

Immediately, Teal saw Jun struggling against the stranger, their swords sparking blue on black, creating a smell of raspberries mixed with indescribable ozone. He attacked low, but Jun jumped and somersaulted safely. She switched the Birelance to her right hand, hoping that would trip him up somehow.

"I like your style, Elf. Someday, we will meet again."

Jun scoffed. "In your dreams, sailor."

"Exactly," he promised.

Losing her cool, she lashed out. The villain feinted a defensive posture, stepped to her unarmed hand, and swiped. He hit her under the arm, in the ribs.

"Watch out!" Teal yelled, but it was too late. She ran to Jun's side to protect her from the sailor's dark sword.

"Ah. The child returns," he stated disdainfully, not really paying attention to her, but rather watching Jun writhing in agony. He reached smoothly into his trouser pocket.

Teal was speechless. Her face reddened with anger as she screamed at the top of her lungs. She knew she had the advantage when she cast the Haste spell within their cabin. Two or three jabs with her Hoopka and the man would be severely injured, at the least.

Not only had the darkened sword cut Juniper deep, but her brain was dealt a multitude of pinpricks as she reeled backward. She was in shock. It was a full minute before she could put a thought together. Her magic headband was supposed to protect her from different types of mind control. But this wasn't mind control. It was a headache to end all headaches! Some kind of painful psychic attack to nullify all counterattacks.

Her stamina faltered, and she fell to her knees, the Birelance's tip cutting a nick in the wooden floor as she steadied herself on the gifted weapon. She clutched her ribcage as blood began to trickle from her wound. She groaned and counted her blessings, for if Teal hadn't appeared, she certainly would've died.

As the sailor's clenched fist withdrew from his pocket, Teal struck with her Hoopka again. She swung across his midriff and stabbed the tall man in the gut. He barely noticed. She was surprised when his wounds started to leak sand. "What are you?"

"Tribelfi." He opened his fist and blew red, yellow, and blue sand from it. Teal instinctively covered her eyes. More deleterious magic she would have to learn to dispel, she thought. Her eyes opened. She blinked. There was nothing to see. She blinked several more times. Nothing. She was blind!

Patrice grabbed her Hoopka. "Your bident, please and thank you." Balancing the Shadow Blade and the pig sticker was too much. He dropped his concentration, and the blade dissipated. Then, like a professional discus thrower, he swept an arm back, pulling Teal along until she lost her grip, and tossed it over the edge.

From the slight grunt he gave, she knew what he had done. "My Hoopka!" she cried. How was she going to defend herself now that she had been disarmed? Quite frankly, she really wasn't disarmed. She had a dagger on her hip, but what good was that against a magical sword?

"What is happening?" Juniper screamed in a panic. How could this knave be exploiting their weaknesses so easily?

She said Hoopka. Now, where have I heard that before? Patrice flashed through a memory of a shire he had wandered through. Shire Grimbar! The Kender race used Hoopkas. "That'll teach you to interfere in my affairs. Good evening, Halfling." He tipped his imaginary cap and began to walk toward the hatch leading below decks. When he reached it and turned back, the Halfling was helping the Elf drink a Healing Potion. Let them lick their wounds while I escape. My job is done, he reasoned.

Then a shot rang out.

His upper torso jerked. Specks of sand sprayed from a hole in his chest, followed by wisps of dust. Patrice clutched at his heart with both hands and fell through the open hatch and down the companionway. It was that straggler from earlier, the Grey Elf Calbirchkod! Firing a pistol at me! At me? Outrageous!

The gunshot was sure to attract a seaman or two. Stealthily, he wandered around, finding the crew still asleep, hoping that he had convinced the demi-humans of his clever disguise. What fun it will be when they lock up the wrong man! Incidentally, he was that man and dissolved the illusion about himself. Now, in his true form, in his black leathers, he needed to find another route out of the lower berth.

Birch ran to the hatch, peered down, and harrumphed. Empty. How had the man survived a bullet to the heart? He leapt into the companionway, strode through the hanging hammocks, and searched for the missing villain. It was no use; either he had found an exit or was pretending to be asleep with the others. He failed to jostle the crewmen awake. Enraged, he shouted as loudly as he could. Five or six of the crew shouted back unconsciously. One fell out of his hammock. He felt like aiming his pistol at the roof and pulling the trigger once again, but he knew that could be dangerous. Without any clues, he concluded this manhunt to be a lost cause and clambered up the narrow stairs to the main deck.

"Wow, Teal! The potion healed me completely. Thank you for that."

Blinded, she stored the empty flask away in her traveling pack. "You're very welcome, Juniper. A rogue unprepared is worth less than the artwork..." Teal's vision began to return, and she couldn't help but blush at what she saw. "..she is stealing."

Birch held his hand out to Juniper while she stared up at him momentarily, accepted his hand gratefully, sheathed her long sword, and turned her attention to Teal. Donned in nothing but an animal's loincloth and his holster, stood the statuesque Grey Elf, in all his naked glory.

"Are you able to see yet?" he asked.

She thought about saying no so she could stare a little longer. "Umm, yar. I mean, yes, I can see you. I can see both of you." Internally, she had to tell her brain to stop her mouth from talking.

Jun was saying, "I think we should inspect the body."

Teal had to tell her brain that she would never get another chance to say it. "I am inspecting the body."

The Elves smiled at her comment. They figured that Kender don't walk about half-nude in their shires of innocence and wholesomeness. In retrospect, forest Elves have no such allusions. They were not prudish. A tribe of Elves considered their nudity a sense of accomplishment, not an embarrassment.

"Sorry, I didn't have time to dress." Birch tilted his head towards the big blue jay, T'wano, and the two Elves marched away, speaking in their Elvish tongue. "I hadn't realized there was a body."

"There would've been two if your shot hadn't missed," scolded Jun.

"I never miss, Juniper," he said between gritted teeth.

Teal was at their side instantly. She understood some Elvish and Dwarfish, but she was also studying one other language, Goblin. She wasn't quite fluent in any of them... yet.

"His weapon. He conjured his weapon from the shadows."

In Elvish, Teal said, "Definitely evil. Possibly a thief, like me."

The Elves dropped their little charade and spoke Common. Teal was becoming too smart for her own good, thought Juniper. One day, she will outshine us all.

"Weren't those Shadow Hunters after an illusionist?"

"That was their story," Teal confirmed the so-called tale.

"What's a Shadow Hunter?"

"Never mind," said the Wood Elf. "You had to be there."

At the site of the murder, Teal conversed with T'wano. She had asked him if he could find her Hoopka. It was wood, and wood floated. Usually, the ship traveled anywhere from four to eight knots, but the problem tonight was that the U.N.C. Oscar had come to a standstill. No one was manning the oars, sails, or steering. It had become a ghost ship. Mayhap the Kenku could find a Liche's phylactery in a dragon's treasure room.

T'wano imitated Gopher's squeaky voice. "If you look over the railing, you'll spot our emergency dinghy. I believe we call it a dinghy because it can be stingy. It only seats twenty, or twenty-five if you're desperate. Of course, there's an exact twin on the port side, but holding only fifty passengers out of 150 crewmembers is a disaster of numismatics that I don't want to be party to. In other words, Captain Kelly and I will be sinking with the ship."

"It fell into the dinghy? That's great news! Oh, do be a dear, and retrieve it. I hope it's still in one piece."

"Better late than never, Captain, sir." His beak dipped as one wing extended into a salute, then he flew off.

Bloated Blair's wet body was cold. A knife hilt protruded from his chest. She thoroughly searched his body and found shipping documents, expensive rings, and a moneybag. She correctly deduced that this wasn't a robbery. The sailor was a murderer, an assassin yet to be brought to justice. "Why would he risk killing a politician out in the open, in such tight quarters?" she wondered aloud.

"He did have the moonless night to operate," offered Birch. "What better time to act?"

"That's correct. Unlike us, humans cannot see in the dark. Therefore, he must be an experienced assassin," Jun concluded.

"He was under contract, and he fulfilled it."

"So supposedly, we know the how and the why, but not the who," Teal said. "We'll have to identify the suspect in the morning."

"You mean if he's still here. We don't know how powerful a magician he could be. I put a bullet in his chest, and he disappeared! These tricksters can teleport, they can breathe underwater, they can even transverse dimensions... so I've heard."

"Be that as it may, there's not much we can do until sunrise," Jun said.

The Kenku returned with Teal's precious Hoopka in his claws. "There it is! That's a good bird!" T'wano trilled.

Teal spun the Hoopka. "What's this then?" She slid a hand along the sharpened end and plucked a fragment of black leather. "A clue!"

"Black? He was in a tan uniform."

Juniper was great at stating the obvious, thought Birch. "Yes, yes, very curious," he said impatiently.

"What about the dea.. dea.. dead body?" stuttered T'wano. They had no idea whose voice the bluebird was imitating now.

"Stay and protect the body, T'wano. I'm going to wake the Captain, that is, if he hasn't been poisoned yet," he grumbled.

Atop the main deck, at the stern, were the Captain's quarters. Birch pounded on the door. "Captain Kelly! Captain Thomas Kelly!!" he shouted. "If you don't answer in five seconds, I'll break this door down!"

"Not everyone can be asleep. What did they eat for dinner?" said Teal.

"You think the killer spiked the crew with a sleeping powder?"

"Anything is possible, Juniper."

"....Three crocodile! Four crocodile! Five crocodile!" He said the number five with emphasis. Birch yanked his pistol from his holster and fired a shot into the door's handle, then he proceeded to crash it in with his shoulder. The entrance shattered.

Thomas had jumped out of his bed and was loading gunpowder into his pistol. He pointed it at Birch, though it wasn't ready. "What is this!? A mutiny?" he yawped at them. He was clad in long underwear with little red-printed hearts.

After a couple of surely inadvertent laughs, the situation was explained to him. They came to the same simple answer that it must've been the clam chowder soup that was the culprit, because they and the other private cabins were served roasted vegetables, tuna, and salmon. Captain Kelly said, "I was so exhausted I forgot to eat. I fell right into a deep sleep."

They discussed the victim and how he was murdered. Thom wanted to know every detail and requested Gopher to be present to write them down. Next, they debated the murderer and his battle with the heroes, how to capture him, and what to do with him when they did. "If he's a construct made of sand, as you say, then we should keep that quiet. I don't want to cause a ruckus. In the interim, we look for evidence pertaining to his real identity."

They tried to convince the Captain that the mystery sailor was not a doppelganger or any other kind of shapeshifter. Teal showed him the torn swatch of black leather, but he had his doubts. A single shapechanger in a position of power could topple a government or instigate a war between peaceful countries. Two or more could work even faster, causing misery, despair, and chaos for centuries. Currently, as none of them had the ability, they would have to search far and wide for a scroll or glass that could see through illusions, and even if they happened across such an item, it would be too late, for the sailor would be a shadow hiding underground. Whether a master of illusion or a doppelganger, he was an existential threat to powerful empires and their landowners.

Presently, they were not at war. Otherwise, the Captain would be worried about his responsibilities to the naval command, the trade with the surrounding islands, and his status in the Merchant Guild was of grave concern. "Excuse me, once I get dressed, I have a lot of work to do."

Afterward, they attempted to recruit the elite passengers, most of whom were unfamiliar with nautical duties and were, for all intents and purposes, more of a danger to themselves than they were a boon to the ship. Teal was tempted to coax Alex out of her reverie, but her snoring scared her away. So a skeleton crew was put to task. They worked the early morning shift, and except for the fiery red comet lighting the starry sky, it was an uneventful night.

In the brig, Elmer the sailor was interrogated, and he nervously proclaimed his innocence. The respected Captain knew most of his crew well enough and didn't think the man capable of any magical shenanigans. Besides that, Teal went through his belongings and found a scarcity of black leather. He owned no weapon, for they determined he was a danger to himself and others. Only tools of the trade allowed for silly old Elmer. They recognized his speech pattern, and his voice was off.

Moreover, his gait and mannerisms didn't match. And he smiled too much. An illusion could only cover what was perceived, for the one casting the illusion, your physical attributes were your own. Finally, Teal poked his earlobe with the tip of her dagger, and blood dripped out. She said, "It's not him. There's no sand." Thom kept him there as a precaution, but if he proved to be as powerful as the real perpetrator, then the ship's brig was unlikely to hold him.

Being the middle of summer, the councilman was placed in a steel box belowdecks so his body would be protected from the warmth of the sun. His body had become turgid, and his skin was turning blue. Alex was tasked with preserving the body with a minor cold spell every night as the ice would melt within hours.

When they finally arrived at Budadang Island, the Captain would have to face the consequences for not keeping his passengers safe or his crew from succumbing to tainted food. Moreover, a killer was still on the loose, their pool of suspects was a hundredfold, and the only evidence they had was eyewitness testimony and the two daggers they recovered from Blair's dead body. He silently prayed there would be no more death on his galleon before he docked at the Island of Ritual Delights. Almost ten days had passed without further incident.

When Alex acclimated to the swaying of the ship, they started to participate in daily activities, learning to mend the canvas sails, tying complicated knots, and testing their strength on the oars. They also practiced firing the harpoon and loading the cannons. Thom personally taught them deep-sea fishing. On one occasion, they watched as the crew raced up the shroud to the crow's nest, and the first to reach the bell was declared winner. The fastest was Joss, who, as a reward, had a day's reprieve and spent the evening with the Captain and the three semi-famous women.

Everything went perfectly. Out on the deck, the mood was still tense, yet the decor and lighting within the cabin were classy, and the feast remarkably delicious. The young man, Joss, was tall for his age and well-marbled. Additionally, he was very charming and popular with his crewmates. Thom congratulated him on winning the competition, and he accepted it all in stride. He was an exemplar of dedication, loyalty, and truth. One day, he would grow into a leader of the people. The ladies were impressed with the respect he showed them. Eventually, the conversation turned to the murder, and the Captain wanted specifics held to a minimum, at least until he could report it to his superiors. So, to quell his fears, the sailor only learned that the killer's agenda was fulfilled, but that he was possibly still aboard. An intriguing situation, he gathered. Joss let them know the outrageous rumors the Oscar crew had cooked up about the assassin being a shape-changing merman or, as Teal was overheard saying, that he was a man made of beach sand. They reassured him that Blair's killer would be brought to justice, given time.

Joss said, "Once we reach the island, I'm afraid we'll never see him again."

"We'll know who he is at the next roll call when a sailor is found absent." Thomas sighed heavily, "But by then it will be too late."

They had almost no experience with murder and were ill-equipped to deal with a rule of law procedure, so they hadn't considered questioning any likely suspects individually or gathering any evidence other than what had already been discovered. What they needed was an official, a politician, but unfortunately, that was their victim! What's worse is that they thought their murderer was a sailor when the real culprit, Patrice, meandered about the ship carefree and proud of his accomplishment.