Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)

[talien]

Silence, Silver, and Secrets: Part 3a – The Witching Hour

After a soggy, miserable day running around the city, the smoky air took on the crisp coldness of night. A light snowfall began, dusting the ground.

They ended up searching near the Vein of Sarish, the canal that linked the city to river traffic. Even though it was half-choked with ice, the canal still saw a fair amount of traffic. Men used long poles, with barbs on the end, to break the ice and push it away from their gondolas and flat-bottomed boats. Traffic on the canal was thinner after dark, but barges still continued to pull in and out of the various docks and piers.

“I just heard a splash,” said Ilmarė. “As if something heavy was just dropped into the canal.”

Her elven sight caught sudden movement from the shadows near the edge of the docks. A group of cloaked figures was moving away from the canal.

They ran to investigate.

In the icy water, was a human-sized body floating face down. It was clothed in a torn and dirty tunic and leggings. The tunic was caught on a splintered piece of wood along one of the pilings at the edge of the canal. The body bobbed back and forth in the current, a grisly buoy.

Something small and furry crawled its way out of Sebastian’s robes onto his shoulder. “Dracuul! Follow those men!”

The little bat flapped off in pursuit.

Ilmarė frowned down at the corpse. “That’s not by any chance the corpse we’re looking for?”

Beldin reached down to fish the body out of the water.

“It can’t be,” said Sebastian. “And yet…”

“You haven’t even looked at the body!” Ilmarė found all of Nishanpur to be a disgusting mess. She didn’t relish the idea of plunging back into its alleyways looking for a stray corpse. “How can you be sure?”

“Because,” said Sebastian, wiping away the hair from the back of the corpse’s skull to prove it was still intact, “Kham shot von Grebel in the back of the head.”

 

[talien]

Silence, Silver, and Secrets: Part 4a – Tale of the Body Thief

Sebastian led them northward through the Trade Quarter and toward the Street of Green Tiles. He led them through the park, which held the Shrine of Swift-Winged Salvation, and continued north, into the Barren Hills Quarter. The homes were much less affluent than those of the upper Trade Quarter and seemed to have an air of quiet efficiency.

Von Grebel’s family lived a modest home, unornamented, but clean and in good repair. Sebastian knocked on the door.

A man answered with the look of a smith, with a strongly built frame despite his graying hair. A woman stood behind him, older still, her hair unkempt and tangled, her robes frayed at the edges.

“Yes?”

“We have news about Haron von Grebel,” said Sebastian gravely.

“I am Yehumik Hatar, who are you?”

“Sebastian Arnyal, but that is not important. We’d like you to identify a body.”

“You have it with you?”

Sebastian indicated the figure in sackcloth draped over Beldin’s shoulder.

“Bring it in, please.”

Ilmarė snorted. To walk around with a corpse was inconceivable to elven sensibilities, but then they were in Nishanpur, where corpses walked the streets.

They entered. A young girl, not more than fourteen years of age, quietly seated herself on a stool next to the man.

Beldin gently lowered the corpse to the floor. He cleared his throat, indicating the women.

“It’s fine. If it is Haron’s body, his fiancée and mother have the right to see it.”

Beldin arched a busy brow in surprise. The older woman had to be von Grebel’s mother. Which meant the young girl was his bride to be. With a shrug, he peeled back the sackcloth from the body.

With lamps at hand, they could clearly see the extent of the injuries Von Grebel sustained before his death.

Von Grebel wore the undertunic, boots and trousers that belong to his uniform, but his overtunic and any armor, including his rank markings, was missing. There were no weapons on the body.

Covered in bruises, von Grebel appeared to have been beaten, or perhaps to have fallen from a height. He also had gashes on the inside of his arms, stretching from wrist to elbow.

“Bruising all over the body indicates that he was badly beaten,” said Sebastian. Von Grebel’s wrists had two long, crooked slashes. “The wounds on his arms imply he tried to kill himself and succeeded.”

“But why would someone dump his body in the canal?” asked Ilmarė. “The cuts are jagged, not clean, as they would be if they were made with a dagger.”

“That’s definitely him,” said Yehumik. “Thank you for returning him to us. Please, feel free to stay until after his body is consigned to the flames of Nier’s Judgment.

A bat flapped in through the open doorway and landed on Sebastian’s shoulder. It squeaked in his ear.

Sebastian nodded. “I’m afraid we cannot stay. We have other business to attend to.”

Yehumik walked them out. “If you find his killers,” he said in low tones, “make them suffer for what they did.”

Sebastian’s nostrils flared. “They already are.”

 

[talien]

Silence, Silver, and Secrets: Part 4b – Tale of the Body Thief

“According to Dracuul, the cloaked figures’ destination was a wrecked shell of a house near the ruined Palaces of the Devil Kings.”

Beldin eyed the structure in front of him. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“That little flying rat told you all that?” asked Ilmarė.

Sebastian sniffed. “Dracuul is an excellent tracker. I suspect the answer to our missing corpse lay within.”

The place was completely deserted. No one in the neighborhood dared to go near the Palaces after dark.

Beldin kicked open the door. The house was actually built on the foundation of a much older structure. Columns covered in Nerothian hieroglyphics lay in pieces all around them. Flanking the room on either side was a pair of sarcophagi carved in the shape of the Devil Kings of old.

“Nobody’s home,” said Ilmarė.

A figure emerged from the shadows. It coalesced, revealing itself to be Haron von Grebel. Behind him stood another figure. They both had the gaunt look of those long dead.

“Do not stand between me and the ones I seek.” Von Grebel said in a low, menacing voice.

“I will take care of this, Haron,” said the woman. “You have other matters to attend to…”

“I will not harm my family.” Von Grebel tried to confront the woman, but she silenced him with a gesture. He cowered before her.

“You vill do as instructed, thrall.” The woman’s voice held a hint of amusement.

Von Grebel turned briefly to regard Sebastian. “I am ordered to kill my intended, and her family. If you kill Markeshia,” he indicated the woman, “I will no longer be bound to do so…you do not have to destroy her completely; she is weaker than I am, and I can break free of her control if you but destroy her corporeal form long enough for me to do so. Please, help me. I cannot disobey her direct command, but I will not be too swift in my task.”

With a quick step backwards, Von Grebel disappeared into the shadows again, a faint misty shimmering all that remained to mark his departure

“How interesting,” mused the female, her long, black talons clacking as she tapped her fingers against the wall. “Defiance in vord and reluctant obedience in deed. I shall have to remember dat for later. Now, as for you …” Markeshia bared her fangs, and cackled with glee.

The sarcophagi creaked open. Things long dead awoke from their slumber. Demonic, horned humanoids crawled out; their skin was drawn back over skulls, tufts of patchy hair clung to whitened scalps, patches of bone peeking through frozen, dead flesh.

Sebastian and Beldin moved back to back.

“And now we know why they call it the Palace of the Devil Kings,” sighed Ilmarė.

 

[talien]

Silence, Silver, and Secrets: Part 4c – Tale of the Body Thief

“Don’t look at them!” shouted Sebastian.

The shambling monstrosities with wicked, leering faces culled from the depths of hell, trudged forward with the patience of the dead.

Ilmarė frowned. “These are mere servants. We’ve nothing to fear from them.”

“It’s true.” Markeshia clucked her tongue. “Dese vere merely slaves. If they were truly Devil Kings, you’d all be dead by now. But I think dey shall suffice.” The barely clad vampire lifted her arms and howled.

When Beldin and Sebastian didn’t respond, the elorii looked over her shoulder. They were paralyzed with fear, eyes wide in color-drained expressions of terror.

“Oh, for the love of Osalian,” muttered Ilmarė. She pointed at her companions. “Leithia achas!”

The dark-kin and dwarf snapped out of their paralysis, gasping for breath.

“Now,” said Ilmarė, “do something useful!”

Sebastian stumbled backwards as one of the Devil King servants stretched a hand towards him. “Don’t let him touch you, they have the plague!”

The crumbling fingertips reached for Sebastian’s cheek but then stopped. The Devil King servant hesitated. It recoiled, confused.

Before the Devil King servant could gain advantage of its position, it was smashed sideways by Beldin’s axe.

“Get a hold of yourself Sebastian!” shouted Ilmarė. She knocked an arrow with her serpent bow and fired at Markeshia.

The vampire snatched the arrow out of the air. “You’re not fighting a mere human, elf. I have lived longer dan you.”

Behind them, near the doorway, a pack of wolves bayed. Beldin slammed the door shut with one foot, sweeping an arc before him.

“And,” Markeshia’s full lips split into a devilish grin, “I have many tricks up my sleeve.”

“That may be,” said Ilmarė. “But I have something you don’t have…” she ducked low. “A sorcerer!”

With a shout of “Incendiaries globus!”, flames blasted forward, engulfing the Devil King servants and the vampire.

The undead servants silently writhed in pain, their features even more hellish as they smoldered and crackled. They collapsed into ash.

“You vill pay for that!” Markeshia shrieked in rage. Her own burnt flesh was restoring itself before their very eyes. “Children of de night, heed my call!”

The door wracked as angry wolves threw themselves at it over and over. Then it broke open.

Four large, silver-backed wolves growled in the doorway.

“The only children those wolves belong to is Osalian.” Ilmarė pointed at the wolf pack. “îdh!”

With a whine, each wolf lay its head down, one by one, asleep.

Before Markeshia could react, Beldin charged forward, axe raised. He swiped it through the air where Markeshia’s neck had been.

“She’s escaping!” shouted Sebastian. The vampire transformed into a mist. A red vapor snaked along the ground. “There!” It disappeared into a crack.

“We must get through the floor to her lair,” said Sebastian. “We haven’t much time!”

Beldin looked around for a splint and found it in the shattered door. He dragged the heavy piece of wood over to the crack.

“Much time before what?” asked Ilmarė.

Beldin took out his morning star. With a mighty heave, he slammed the morning star into the splint. The crack in the floor widened imperceptibly.

“Before she wakes up!” said Sebastian.

“I’m not sure that this is a good idea,” said Ilmarė. “Didn’t Haron say that we only had to weaken her?”

Sebastian looked at Ilmarė with a mixture of disdain and surprise at her ignorance. “Markeshia is immortal. She will never stop. Perhaps you do not worry yourself about such things, but if we do not stop her now, our children and our children’s children will be haunted by her for the rest of our days.”

Ilmarė looked around. “I’ll help.”

 

[talien]

Silence, Silver, and Secrets: Part 4d – Tale of the Body Thief

“Got it!” shouted Beldin. “Stand back!”

With another mighty blow, the splint shattered the spider web of cracks that marked the entrance to Markeshia’s tomb. The floor collapsed and gave way.

Ilmarė hopped down into the hole. It was a small chamber with a sarcophagus in the center. Markeshia’s likeness was engraved on the top, a peacefully slumbering form that belied its owner’s true nature.

Beldin grunted as he pushed against the heavy stone lid. “This will only take a minute.”

With a heave, he shoved the lid off of the sarcophagus.

Sebastian had his hands up. Beldin stared down into the sarcophagus. Nobody said anything.

“Well?” Sebastian edged closer to peer into the coffin. “Beldin?”

Markeshia sat straight up. “Defend me!” she shrieked.

Beldin, his eyes glazed, turned and slammed Sebastian sideways with his axe. The dark-kin collided with the wall and slumped to the ground.

“Praeumbro caliginosus!” hissed Markeshia. The room was engulfed in an obscuring mist. When it cleared, she was gone.

“Well, that didn’t go well,” said Ilmarė.

Beldin looked around, blinking in confusion.

“She ensorcelled you, old friend,” said Sebastian. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Not to dark-kin.” Beldin helped Sebastian to his feet. “I’m sorry.”

“No apology necessary,” said Sebastian. “I’m afraid I have bigger problems.”

Ilmarė arched a delicate eyebrow.

“The Devil King servants,” Sebastian leaned against Markeshia’s sarcophagus. “They would not touch me.”

“Perhaps they knew you were a sorcerer,” said Ilmarė. She didn’t believe it.

Just then, a figure walked out of the shadows.

 

[talien]

Silence, Silver, and Secrets: Conclusion

The figure of Haron von Grebel stepped into view. Oddly, however, he moved no further.

“It seems I owe you a debt,” said von Grebel. “You have defeated Markeshia, the one who made me. In doing so you have released me from the servitude I would have suffered under her.” The stoic Nierite, now become something he never intended to be, looked over Sebastian with an appraising eye. He then retrieved a holy symbol of Nier from beneath his tunic. “Give this to Ashrem val’Virdan at the Temple of the Everlasting Flame. Tell him what has happened. He will heal you. Our debt is cancelled.”

Sebastian took the symbol. “And what of your bride? Will you leave her be?”

Haron paused as he turned to leave.

“Tell my family I am sorry. I will not see them again. They will believe if you say that I have been destroyed. Better that they think me dead – at peace and consigned to the eternal flames of Nier. I would ask that you tell them that, rather than the truth.”

“We will,” said Beldin. “I swear on it.”

There was a hiss of air, and von Grebel disappeared as quickly as he’d come.

“It doesn’t add up,” said Sebastian. “Markeshia was most assuredly created by the Akali. Why go through all this trouble?”

“A commander like von Grebel must know much about the Nierite occupation,” said Ilmarė. “She was undoubtedly a pawn in a bigger plan.”

“Like us,” Beldin began climbing out of the hole.

“So the Nerothians get their spy, the Nierites get their body, and Vlad and Kham can no longer be tried for kidnapping or murder.” Sebastian gestured for Ilmarė to climb ahead of him. “We saved more than one life today.”

When they were both out of earshot, Sebastian succumbed to a fit of wracking coughs that nearly brought him to his knees. He spat up something black and viscous onto the floor of the chamber. The dark-kin had more in common with the Devil King servants than he liked to admit.

“Now,” Sebastian said to the likeness of Markeshia, “If I could only save my own.”

 

[talien]

Chapter 40: A Game of Fox and Geese - Introduction

This is a Year One Living Arcanis Nishanpur adventure, “A Game of Fox and Geese” by Kimberly Wajer-Scott, set in the Arcanis setting. You can read more about Arcanis at Onara Online. Please note: This adventure contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

• Dungeon Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
• Beldin Soulforge (dwarf fighter) played by Joe Lalumia
• Kham Val’Abebi (val rogue/psychic warrior) played by Jeremy Ortiz (http://www.ninjarobotstudios.com)
• Sebastian Arnyal (dark-kin sorcerer) played by George Webster
• Ilmarė Galen (elf bard/fighter) played by Amber Tresca

This adventure really depends on the kindness of PCs. Since the main characters are “The Touched” (basically, mentally deficient NPCs), it’s questionable if your traditional adventuring party would give two figs about what amounts to a babysitting job. So I had to tweak the adventure to include a character we haven’t seen in awhile.

This Touched character ended up providing plenty of motivation for the party. In fact, he was almost too much motivation, as the PCs focused on him to the exclusion of the other Touched. It worked out fine in the end though.

 

[talien]

Fox and Geese: Prologue

The bitter winter was giving way to a mild, wet spring. With the midday sun blazing above, Kham found himself in the heart of Nishanpur; the Bone Market. Despite scattered damage throughout the city from the massive earthquake last winter that was still being repaired, life goes on. The most prized and expensive items from all over Onara could be obtained in the Market, from silks to swords, so long as the swords were of Sarishan Steel.

“I’m telling you,” said Kham over his shoulder. “It was him. I saw him with my own eyes.”

“Was this before or after you lost Vlad?” asked Beldin disapprovingly.

“After.” Kham’s head snapped back to address Beldin. “And no, I wasn’t that drunk. I know what Quintus looks like!”

“It can’t possibly be him,” said Ilmarė. “There is no reason for Quintus to be here. In fact, it’s the last place on Arcanis he would want to be.”

The Bone Market was packed with folk of military bearing. Nierites from all over Canceri have had gathering at Nishanpur, as well as Hunder, Vrain, and other sites where temples to the Lord of Battles were prominent, for weeks now. Within days the holy festival of Kindling Dawn would signal a celebration of renewal for all who follow the Judge of the Gods.

In preparation, many were buying imported foodstuffs for feasts, incense and animals to offer in sacrifice, and even extra slaves to help tend to guests during the annual gathering. Unfortunately, the festival happened to be the same week as the Burning Man festival of the Nerothians.

“Well, I know what I saw. And he was just shuffling down the street around here.” Kham peered through the crowd. “He looked terrible; beard and everything. But it was definitely Quintus.”

“Maybe you should spend more time worrying about the friends you got imprisoned,” snapped Sebastian.

“Oh, I’m not worried about Vlad.” Kham shoved his hands in his overcoat pockets. “The Nierites wouldn’t think of executing him now. It might cause a riot.”

The locals were less than pleased with the overall arrangement. The hushed whispers often descended to deadly silence when Nierites entered the vicinity, and many Nierites found that prices for even the simplest items tended to skyrocket when they entered the market. Incidents between the Swords, especially, and members of the local population had definitely increased.

“Besides,” Kham addressed Sebastian, “you bought four of the best barristers money can buy.”

“I hope it’s enough,” Sebastian said somberly.

Ilmarė froze in her tracks. “I don’t believe it.”

“What?” asked Beldin. He couldn’t see over the crowd.

“Quintus!”

 

[talien]

Fox and Geese: Part 1 – Voices Carry

A group of men in the garb of Sarishan priests were arguing with a group in the accoutrements of warriors of Nier. Their voices rose steadily, and many people moved away from what promised to become a fight. No one had summoned the guards; in fact, they seemed to be intentionally ignoring the affair.

The point of contention was a group of plainly dressed folk standing idly behind the arguing men.

“Dese men are not your property, warrior,” said one of the Sarishan priests. He was easily identified by the Mark of Sarish on his forehead, an inverted triangle between two parentheses. “You have no claim over dem. Leave us.”

“Neither are they yours, priest,” replied a Sword of Nier. “You have no more right to constrain them. And I will not see them led like calves to slaughter.”

“They don’t have any of the typical caste markings of Nishanpur,” said Sebastian. “Who they are, whether foreigners or field hands, is impossible to say.”

Some of the six people look fearfully at the arguing group; others stared vacantly, or were preoccupied with small objects. They consisted of a human female, a dark-kin female, and the rest were all male.

“Quintus,” whispered Ilmarė.

One of the men, with a slightly more muscular build than the others, had a tattoo on his left arm, partially covered by the sleeve of his shirt. It read “Legio Occultus…”

“The Legion of the Triumphant Rays of the Invisible Sun,” said Ilmarė in disbelief.

“You accuse us of slaughter?” continued the priest. “It is your kind dat have bathed our land in blood and fire!”

“Yours have been bleeding the land for centuries,” the Nierite replied. “We seek only to cauterize the wounds before this land bleeds to death!”

Kham walked over to the legionnaire and stood in front of him. He didn’t respond.

“Quintus? Hey, Quintus?” Kham waved his hand in front of the legionnaire. “Yep, it’s Quintus all right.” He pushed Quintus with one finger, but the man’s expressionless features didn’t change. He merely moved slightly.

“Hah!” snarled the Sarishan. “Leave us before you find yourself food for demons!”

The Nierite put one hand on his two-handed greatsword. “We will not leave until you give over these blameless folk to us!”

“Uh, I think a fight is about to break out...” Beldin reached for his axe.

“Up we go!” Kham bent over and lugged Quintus over his shoulders with some effort.

“Hey!” shouted the Nierite.

“Leave him be!” shouted the Sarishan.

The Nierite stepped forward, only to find the Sarishan priest in his path. He backhanded the priest without thinking.

The priest fell. The Sarishan wiped his face with the back of his hand. Blood was smeared across it.

The Mark of Sarish on the priest’s head began to glow. “You’ll be sorry you did that.”

“Uh oh,” said Sebastian.

“Uh oh, what?” asked Kham. He was having difficulty keeping the heavy man aloft.

“Marks of Sarish bind those branded with them to not commit violence or have violence committed against them,” said Sebastian. “The Nierite just violated the priest’s Mark. That means—“

There was a popping, hissing sound. Four shrieking winged devils appeared in a puff of brimstone ahead and behind them.

“Vorlerath Demons,” sighed Ilmarė.

The Nierites drew their two-handed swords and arrayed themselves in formation as the demons advanced.

“That’s not what I’m concerned about,” said Sebastian.

“There’s something worse than Vorlerath Demons?” asked Kham. He whirled around, trying to keep an eye on the demons, the Nierites, and find a way out of the crowd.

Sebastian pointed skyward as a pair of huge winged shadows passed over them. “Yes.”

 

[talien]

Fox and Geese: Part 2 – Sympathy for the Devil

Knights of the Red Fist, mounted on screeching red monstrosities, crashed into the Bone Market. People ran screaming, scattering to the four winds as Vorlerath Demons, Sarishan Priests, and the Swords of Nier

Kham ran as fast as he could. “What the hell are those?” he shouted over to Sebastian.

“Melatorn Devils.” Sebastian was sweating from the exertion. “Demonic mounts. For the Knights.”

“Yeah I figured that out,” said Kham.

“Can’t you run any faster?” shouted Ilmarė, who had easily pulled ahead of them.

“Do YOU want to carry him?” Kham shouted back.

A veritable melee of spell and blade broke out. One Vorlerath demon was skewered on the end of a Knight of the Red Fist’s lance, while two Volerath’s sunk their teeth into the other Melatorn’s haunches. One of the Swords of Nier cut down a Sarishan priest; another priest retaliated by paralyzing a Sword.

They turned a corner, finally out of the eye of flying Melatorns. Kham dumped the legionnaire, who stood motionless, and tried to catch his breath.

A Sarishan priest rounded the corner a second later.

Kham had both pistols out, aimed at his head.

The priest put both hands up. “Be at peace, brothers! I only came to thank you for your timely assistance.”

“Kham,” said Sebastian. “He’s still got his Mark…”

“Right, right.” Kham slowly lowered his pistols. “Okay old man, what do you want?”

“I am Treterses, priest of our lord Sarish. It seems dat our attempt to be obsequious has failed. I fear ve may again need assistance before de day is out.”

“Yeah, I could use some answers too,” said Kham. “First, what are you doing with Quintus?”

“I’m sorry?” asked Treterses. “How do you mean?”

Kham patted the dazed legionnaire on the shoulder. “This guy: Quintus Aurelius Ignatius, Signifer of the Legion of the Triumphant Rays of the Invisible Sun. He wasn’t always like this.”

Treterses blinked. “Ve found him vandering randomly through Nishanpur. Ve swept him up with de other Touched.”

“Touched?” asked Beldin.

“Dey are Touched by the gods. Dey are de vay dey are because deir souls could not bear revelation. In shock, dese souls migrated back to newborn bodies, and are trying to either understand, or forget. Though in some places, dey might be considered no better than slaves, or animals, here dey have a special status. Dey are ‘ritually pure’ beings. Many are cared for by deir families, and are tolerated vith great forbearance even by strangers as dey vander about.”

“I’ve heard of these people,” said Sebastian. “They are untouchable and casteless.” He was about to continue when he was overcome by a fit of coughs.

“Surely you must have noticed de castes of Canceri?” asked Treterses. “Dese folk are souls who have almost achieved paradise…How can ve not feel dem vorthy of respect? Yet dey cannot function here in de earthly realm. Dey are therefore considered freemen, and cannot be slaves, but yet dey cannot conduct business as freemen. Dey are unable to comprehend de necessities of earthly laws, and so are considered beyond dose laws. Most folk merely let dem live out deir lives simply, make sure dey do not hurt themselves, and try to leave dem alone to seek their peace vith the gods.”

“Yeah, well, I think Quintus only cares about one particular god,” said Kham. “What were you planning to do with him?”

“It is becoming increasingly dangerous for dem here,” snapped Treterses. “Can you not see a civil var is looming? Ve seek to send them to a community to de east of here, vhere dey will be velcomed. Dose who have families have agreed to let us do so.”

“I don’t think Quintus has family,” said Kham. “So I’m guessing you just decided for him.”

Treterses looked offended. “Dese folk are untouchable. It vould be dishonorable for us to harm dem. You can see for yourself dat ve have allowed no harm to befall dem. Ve seek only to avoid dem befalling random harm here in de future!”

Ilmarė peered at the legionnaire. “I don’t believe this is Quintus. He shouldn’t be in Nishanpur. He was on a farm…”

“You seem quite capable, certainly moreso den I,” said Treterses. “Escort your friend to the Corpse Gate. By de Vein Canal, dere is a warehouse, vith a gargoyle above the door. Dere ve are meeting with a group dat vill escort us out of de city. I myself must go back to de Temple of the Keeper of Mysteries and report. It vould be safer for de Touched, though, to be taken straight to de Gate and to wait dere…”

“And what of the other Touched?” asked Beldin.

“Dey are likely being taken to de Menagerie of the Red Fist. Ve haven’t seen dem holding anyone at deir temple here in de Quarter. Deir temple here isn’t dat large anyhow...”

“What would Nierites want with a bunch of morons?” asked Kham.

Sebastian finally stopped coughing. “They take them north, to Hunder…to be ritually sacrificed to Nier in their ‘sacred’ flame.”

Treterses nodded. “Dere is a movement among them, especially de Swords, to return to the old vays in de vake of recent events.”

“You mean after the Nierites lost the war against Milandir,” said Kham, thinking of Vlad.

“Yes. Vith the disappearance of deir leader Leonydas, and de great earthquake last winter, many rumors surround deir activities. Many of dem fear dey are forsaken by Nier, and seek to make amends by offering sacrifices in de old ways. Since de Touched are pure in spirit, deir souls vould be considered vorthy sacrifices…”

Kham rubbed his forehead. “Okay, okay. We’ll think about it. Go back to your temple or wherever it is you cultists go to.”

Treterses bid them farewell and disappeared into the winding alleyways of Nishanpur.

“If this is Quintus,” said Beldin, “You can’t seriously consider…”

“Of course not,” said Kham. “Quintus just needs to have his memory jogged, that’s all. Let’s get back to the Velvet Glove and clean him up. Then we can figure out what to do next. Isn’t that right Quintus?”

Quintus stared, glassy-eyed, into space.

“Sounds like a yes to me,” said Kham, answering his own question. He pushed the legionnaire ahead of him as they walked.

Ilmarė stood for a moment, hugging herself tightly as she watched them go. Then slowly, reluctantly, she followed after them.