When she returned to Camp Drybone, she and Cocoa were stopped at the gate by the guards. They looked at her exposed cart and the three corpses still smelling as ripe as she found them. 

“Wai—wait here while we get Isembard.” One of the guards replied, covering his nose and mouth with his spare handkerchief. The older of the two walked into the camp, happy to not see the dead. A few moments went by, as Azlyn shuffled her feet awkwardly in the dirt, and the other guard was avoiding any chance to look at her. He looked fairly young, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. 

“Ni-nice night out.” The kid attempted his hand at short talk, which had Azlyn been doing anything else—literally anything else—it would have been fine. She exhaled a long, heavy sigh. Her weariness began to show as she reached to comfort Cocoa. 

“Ah. Right.” She turned to give him a forced smile. 

She could feel the tension spark, as if the wind itself had been charged with static electricity.   He swallowed the lump in his throat, finally catching on her apprehension. Whether the fates were kind to him, her, or both of them—Isembard had climbed up the hill to meet them at that moment. The other guard still had the handkerchief covering his lower face. 

“It is good to see you’ve returned. And I see you’ve secured the remains of the fallen.” He directed the two guards with a curt nod. “Go take these poor souls to the church.” The guards did as instructed, she watched the younger one give her an awkward, but apologetic look, his brown eyes daunted at their next task. 

She watched them leave, hearing the creak of the carts wheel as they went. Isembard looked to Azlyn, “With the bodies given back to the earth, the souls will find their way across to the other side. You have done a noble deed this day, I thank you.” He bowed to her. 

Azlyn decided to tell him of the two Amalj’aa scouts who were scavenging the area. “I found two Amalj’aa picking through the leftovers.” 

Isembard narrowed his eyes at the end of her explanation. “Ah, so there were Amalj’aa remaining. I feared as much. Their part in the lowborn disappearing is all but confirmed. But I sense there is more to this than meets the eye.”

Azlyn agreed. 

He crossed his arms. “The occasional Amalj’aa raiding party would not account for people going missing in these kinds of numbers. The total is too great, and the questions too many. It would not surprise me in the least to learn of another hand in this.”

She scrunched her nose upon the thought of someone doing something as vile as that. There were all kinds of people in the world—some good, and some bad. “Any idea who?” 

Isembard shook his head. “Countless travelers pass through Drybone everyday. And even if it were one among them, how would we best discover who may be implicit in these vanishings?”

She looked to the people moving throughout the town. “This might be awful to suggest, but in order to rule out everything, one must needs look within first before looking to the outside elements.” 

“Turn an eye to the common folk here first? Twelve forbid it to be so. You are correct, however. Talk to Ungust, he’s a merchant who was born here in Drybone and grew up here in the Golden Bazaar. He’s—a rough character, but he knows the people here better than anyone else.” Isembard went to think of his typical spots he’d be found. “I’d wager he’s at the inn, quaffing away a day’s earnings. Here, I’ll write a note for you to show him, else he’s not like to speak to you.”

He pulled from his pocket his small pocketbook. The tiny ink quill he carried barely had enough ink to scratch on the paper itself. It was a legible note, but a small one. He signed it with his initials, before ripping the sheet out from his book. He handed it to her with a smile. “The inn is down the hill, in the back corner of town. You can’t miss it.” Isembard pointed down to the set of doors within sight. 

Azlyn spied the sun had crept further into the mountains westward. “I’ll be on the way then Isembard.” She lifted the note with a smile. 

Isembard gave her a wave, as she ran down the hill into the camp. The inn wasn’t hard to miss, as the two large metal doors leading into the mountain itself had the name of the establishment on a placard. She entered the building, seeing the cozy interior. She saw only three to four people inside. She knew it wasn’t the bar tender she needed to talk to, nor was it the young girl waitress. There was an older gent at the table by himself, but he wasn’t dressed as a merchant typically would. Which left the only single male at the bar. As she approached, the torch light from the lanterns gave her a quick glance over at his back. She could already see the familiar fades and sleazy greased black hair. 

Her footsteps creaked on the boards as she approached, making the male turn to her. The look of shock and disgust on his face mirrored her own as he pointed a fat finger at her. “Well, gods be damned! You’re that bloody adventurer who threatened me back in Ul’dah!” His posture swayed, as if he had a bit too much to drink. He belched in her face, as she leaned away. “What in the seven hells do you want with me now?!”

Azlyn held the note from Isembard. “Please tell me you’re not Ungust.” 

“And what if I am!” He tried to point at her face again, but he kept shifting his fingers to in front of her and slightly away from her. “Damn it...quit moving.” 

She swatted the finger away. “Knock it off you monkey.” 

He staggered back into the bar, but before he had time to react she had held the note from Isembard up to him once more. He snatched the paper from her hand, as he slurred. “Dear  friend—missing people—please help—yours Isembard.” For good measure, he lifted his face up from the note, before he belched loudly in her face once again. Rewarded with a thoroughly disgusted look, he smirked. “Folks around here are as wary as they come. They’ll turn tail and run if you so much as pass wind nearby. Played them all for fools and coaxed some hard labor out of them, I did.” He sneered, looking to the bartender. He then slapped an unsteady hand on the counter. “Another stout ale!” 

The bartender poured another, pounding the glass in front of him. Isembard lifted the tankard in cheer. “So you’re admitting you’re a swindler?” Azlyn remarked, as she decided to step up to the counter. She made sure to stay one person’s space away from him as he reeked of alcohol.

Ungust nursed his ale, swigging it back before he belched loudly in her direction. “If anything they’re asking for it. The more timid they are, the easier. Just like these folks here—they’re more timid than before, what with all the disappearances. You can go talk to ‘em if you don’t believe me.” He smirked, cheering her with his tankard. “Talk to the poor misguided fools. You’ll see.” He laughed into his drink. 

Azlyn narrowed her eyes, before she obliged his request. She left the inn, traveling out to the Camp to find someone who would talk about the disappearances with her. After all of her hard work that day, they’d probably be more inclined to chat with her. 

There weren’t many folks out this time of night. Whether it was due to the disappearances, kidnapping, or the Amalj’aa—many folks hid indoors as soon as the sun started to set. The only major light that illuminated the central area had been the large aetheryte crystal that acted as the point of teleport contact. She looked around, her eyes slowly adjusting to the cover of night.

She could see a few people still out. A lone Lalafell man sitting on a work bench. A woman merchant. A beggar looking for food near the stairs. Azlyn approached the beggar, she pulled out a small ration from her bag. “Good evening sir.”

He looked at the food she gave to him. “Th-thank ye miss.” He ate it immediately, and Azlyn pulled out a small canteen of water she had as well. Giving him a drink of water, she waited until he had finished. When he had, he grabbed her hands to shake them earnestly. “Thank ye. No one’s been this kind in a long time miss.”

She shook her head. “What ails you friend? Hard travel or hard luck?”

The man grumbled, kicking the dirt. “Can’t hold a job to save me life. What can I do if I can’t work?” She could tell he was a bit frustrated by it all.

She tapped her chin. “If you’re not opposed to working, the Copperbell Mines has opened back up. I’m sure they’re looking for people to help in bringing materials from within.”

He widened his eyes at the potential prospect. He looked down to his hands, already callused from days at trying to till the dry barren desert with no luck. “Mining…I suppose that is something I hadn’t considered.”

Azlyn reached out to pat him on his shoulder. She smiled. “I’m glad I could be of some help. Oh—would you happen to know anything about the recent disappearances?”

The man who had started to open up to her, immediately went pale. The color washed away as he tried to take a step away from her. “J-just leave me b-be. I mu-must be on my way. Thank you miss.” He ran before she could inquire into his strange behavior.

Feeling like she’d run into a dead end, she sighed before walking over to the work bench. The Lalafell had been enjoying the tail end of his dinner when she asked. “Good evening sir, I’m looking for some information regarding the disappearances.”

The Lalafell started to stuff his belongings into a bag, a sour expression on his face. “I’ve nothing to say but this: Thal take who—or whatever’s been feeding off us low folk.” She could see the vein bulging in his throat as he slammed his satchel shut, hopping off the bench, and angrily stomping off into the distance.

“Oh-okay.”

She decided to try her luck with the woman merchant. She walked over, raising her hand in greeting. “Good evening, do you mind if I ask you some questions about the disappeara—”

The woman started to gather her rug out from underneath her, her eyes darting as if she saw something that would spirit her away. She gave Azlyn a wide-eyed horrified expression as she shook her head. “I-I don’t know anything, I swear! Please don’t kill me!”

She was shocked that she would end their conversation with such an explicative as that, and all she could do was watch the woman merchant start to sprint away from her selling spot. Azlyn could see that some of her wares hadn’t been gathered probably, just laid in odd places.

“What the hell just happened?” Azlyn muttered to herself, shaking her own head from all the craziness she just witnessed.

She found herself walking back to the bar, more astonished at the fact that Ungust had been right about the commonfolk. She could even see it in his smug face when she entered back into the establishment, his back already leaning against the counter, his glass raised to her at her entry. He laughed at her expense.

“Just as I told you, wasn’t it! The whole lot of them are terrified!” He took a long swig from his ale. He finished his whole cup in that single moment, slamming it down on the counter. He sneered to her, and lifted his finger up to point it at her. “There’s been talk of folk getting abducted, but if you ask me, they simply up and moved on to a better place. This place isn’t exactly Costa Del Sol, if you know what I’m saying.”

Azlyn narrowed her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest feeling the challenge in his tone. “No. I don’t know. Why don’t you elaborate it further for me Ungust?”

Ungust snarled, pushing himself off the counter. He made sure to bump into her shoulder on his way out from the establishment, the look of pure contempt on his face. Azlyn stared him down, and released the shaky angry breath that grew in her lungs.

The bartender heavily sighed as well, his bar maid started to visibly relax as she began cleaning the area he was holing himself up at. Azlyn pulled out two gold coins, one for each of them, and thanked them for their time. With the little amount of evidence she received, she might as well check back in with Isembard. Maybe he had better luck.

She left the inn, finding the man she was looking for by the water well of the camp. He was sitting on the mortar circular bricks when she arrived, a lit cigarette on his lips. When she was within six feet of him, he removed the stick from his mouth, and rubbed it out on the bottom of his boot. “Welcome back Azlyn. Have you learned anything of import?”

She frowned, shaking her head. “Only that Ungust oddly rhymes like dirtbag disgust.”

Isembard sighed. “I see. I suppose I should have expected as much from Ungust. Well, another thought occurred to me in your absence. The commonfolk are nothing if not fervent in their religious beliefs. Perhaps if they speak freely to their gods, then the clergy may know something of use.”

“That’s the church you mentioned?” She pointed to the structure to the northwest up above the ridge. He nodded when he spotted what she was pointing at.

“Aye, that’s the one. Church of Saint Adama Landama. It’s a small and humble church. And since you’re headed there, might I ask you to take this urn of cremated ash to them. A morbid request, I grant you—but it must be borne to burial, and I trust none more than you to see it done.” He found the urn that had the ashes within, carefully handing it over to her.

Azlyn was relieved that it was an urn, and not an embalmed corpse. She didn’t want to see another corpse for a long time after that day.

Isembard nodded to her. “Seek out a man named Marques—he tends the graves of the lichyard. He will tell you where the urn can be interned.”

“Marques, got it.” She walked up the northern winding path out from Camp Drybone. She only had a short walk over, as the path had led straight into the lichyard and to the small building. She looked around for anyone dressed as a clergymen. She could see some parishoners praying in front of large stones, and in the far corner stood a man cloaked in his robes. He had a single lantern by his side, checking the tombs that he walked by.

She approached him. “Excuse me, I was sent to find Marques—is that you?”

The man, a Midlander Hyur by his shape and height jumped at her sudden presence. She couldn’t quite see his face, but she could tell he had a bit of a white beard setting in. “I am Marques.”

Azlyn lifted the urn with care. “I was asked to deliver this urn of ashes. Isembard said they should have a proper burial.”

Marques took the urn, and almost buckled from the weight of it. He must have seemed surprised by the strength she had. “How on earth did you carry such a heavy urn up the path?”

She shook her head. “I travel around, people ask me to carry things for them.”

Marques frowned, looking down at the urn in his hands. “There’s –there have been so many bodies as of late. Then if you don’t mind carrying it, I can show you a place where we can bury it. There’s an empty grave atop the ridge.”

She accepted the urn from him, and followed his lead up the path. It was a short walk, and with his light to brighten the path, it made it easier to navigate through. He pointed to the empty plot when they arrived, and she knelt to place the urn safely in the boughs of the earth. She closed her eyes, clapping her hands together in a short prayer to the god that person may have believed in. She named as many as she could remember from her history books, and then she started to shift the dirt and rock over to complete the burial.

Marques observed her quietly.

When she finished burying the urn, she pulled herself up from the ground. She smiled to Marques, a mixture of feeling happy and saddened at the same time.

“May they all walk in Thal’s realm.” Marques too offered his prayers, holding a set of beads in his one hand, the lantern in the other.

Azlyn decided to best to start asking questions since she got him by himself. “Marques? Can I ask you about the missing people and disappearances of late? I’m afraid it may lead to more death if we don’t do something.” She had a feeling that with this, she might get a better scoop.

The man stowed his prayer beads in his robe pocket. “Missing people? I-I’m afraid I cannot help you.” And just like that her luck seemed to be at its worst. Would she even be able to complete this task tonight? Or would this carryon into tomorrow? Marques must have seen her evident frustration, as he offered. “But maybe Sister Ourcen can. She has been kind to me. Everyone—everyone has been so kind. I don’t know why, though I—” He stammered to a halt, unsure of his words.

Azlyn nodded, reaching out to grasp his free hand in hers. She smiled brightly to him as if he had reignited her continuation. She was excited there might be a brand new lead to follow. “I understand. Thank you so much for your time Marques!”

He gave her a small smile back, at least from what she could tell. “You’ll find Sister Ourcen within the church walls.”

She grinned wide, her legs wanting to sprint their way down the path. However, he called out to her before she left. “What is your name traveler?”

Skidding to a stop, she pointed to herself. “Me? I’m Azlyn.” She gave him a cheeky grin. “Thank you and see you later Marques!” She waved, and then ran down the path they’d just climbed.

She ran straight to the church building and found several clergymen and women inside. It made it easy to find Sister Ourcen, because out of all the people present—she was the only sister there.

“Are you Sister Ourcen?”

The woman smiled, and bowed in greeting. “I am. I hear you have done us a service of finding, and burying a fallen soul. Please accept our gratitude and extend it to isembard when you next see him.”

Azlyn agreed. “I shall. I come on Isembard’s request for information. I’m investigating the disappearances of the folk in Camp Drybone, and was wondering if you could help shed some light?”

Sister Ourcen licked her lips, and tapped one of her sandals on the church floor. She was thinking of anything that might seem like something to share. “It is true I am closer to the people than any other of the Order. I confide in them, and they confide in me. When they wish to speak to their keeper, Thal, I am the medium through which they speak.”

“Does that mean you’ve heard something?” Azlyn pressed, hoping not to break their cordiality.

She shook her head, a frown evident on her plump lips. “Unfortunately not, I’m afraid. Should I learn anything pertinent, I will be sure to share the information with you.”

Azlyn felt her shoulders droop at another dead end. “What is your opinion on Marques?” Deciding to ask about the other clergy now, she hoped to see what other angle she could get.

Sister Ourcen sighed, cupping her cheek in her hand. “I wish Marques would be more helpful in the matter. I pray he did nothing to offend you. He saw—terrible things during the Calamity. His scars run deep. Indeed, he seems to no prefer the company of the dead over the living.”

After that explanation, she didn’t blame him either. She had seen the Calamity from malms and malms away—if he was near when it happened. “That must have been quite a life changing event. I understand.”

The woman nodded. “Everyone was affected, and still to this day, we see all kinds of people trying to make ends meet. It’s truly unfortunate.” She clicked her tongue, looking down to the ground. “However reasonable or not, I fear such behavior ill befits the church. I received word not long ago that one of our recent visitors—a man called Thancred, I believe—took offense at his conduct. I must have words with Marques, and soon.”

Azlyn blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected his name to drop in the conversation. “Err—well, with me he didn’t seem off. He actually walked me through the graves to where I needed to go.”

The sister widened her eyes. “He walked with you?”

The Au Ra nodded, “and accompanied me. He even offered a prayer. I hope you won’t be too strict with him.”

“I will take your words into consideration. Thank you.”

Azlyn bowed her head to the sister. “Thank you, I shall be heading off. I should find proper lodging before it gets too late.”

Sister Ourcen smiled, “If there are no beds available in Camp Drybone, come back here. I do have a spare cot that you may use.”

She waved goodbye, as she walked out from the quite church building. She could see the moon starting to peek out from the clouds. With the sun gone, it had gotten colder. The crisp cold bit on to flesh of her skin as she ran back down the path to Camp Drybone. One thing was for sure, it was that Thancred had been there already—and if she didn’t find out anything—neither did he.

She sighed, what a day it had been. And nothing really to contribute to all her hard work. She found Isembard where she had left him before—by the water well by the center of camp. He wasn’t smoking like last time, but he seemed eager for her report. He stood up as she stopped several feet away from him. She slowly walked up, trying to catch her breath from her sprinting marathon.

“Thank you Azlyn. A burial is no easy thing—even when the disposed is a stranger. Were you able to learn aught of the missing commonfolk?” Isembard started the conversation this time, to which Azlyn shook her head.

She would have answered him back, had someone not dropped a hand on top of her head. She felt her head lean forward from the pressure, as she saw Thancred stop beside her. He gave her a smirk before turning to Isembard. “You’ve been keeping fairly busy this late into the night Azlyn.”

Azlyn moved out from under Thancred’s hand, and gave him a roll of her eyes. She still smiled to him. “I like to finish what I start.”

Thancred reached out to pat her on the shoulder, and then looked to Isembard. He gave a courteous bow to him. “A pleasure, my dear Isembard. The name is Thancred, and I share a passion with you and our mutual friend here for learning what has become of these missing persons and why.” Thancred started to list off everything that he’d done within the past twelve hours, which seemed fairly similar to her current standing on where things stood. “I spoke with Ungust, more times than I care to count. There seems to be some truth to this notion of the commonfolk speaking their secrets  only to those in service to the gods.”

Azlyn crossed her arms, “Yet Sister Ourcen spoke to me mere moments ago, informing me that she’d not heard such things from their lips.”

Thancred pointed to Azlyn, as if she was missing a point. “Prostration, prayer, penance—Abject deeds done behind closed doors, away from prying eyes. Who better to take the pious unawares than she who takes confession?”

Isembard seemed shocked by the notion. “Ourcen?! She wouldn’t…she couldn’t!”

Azlyn shook her head, as something didn’t seem right. There was something that wasn’t adding up in her mind, yet she couldn’t find the words to place it.

“Even the most beautiful roses have thorns, my friend. And you would be wise to keep an eye to this rose.” Thancred advised. Then he raised his hand to his chin, thinking deeply. “Still, the lichkeeper Marques. I’d swear to the Twelve I’ve seen that face elsewhere before.”

Isembard seemed to be in his own sense of dilemma as he was looking to the side wrought with worry. “Sister Ourcen. It cannot be. Though she is wont to travel to the Golden Bazaar on her own. It is not uncommon to see her speaking to the children—but no—it could not be she—could it?”

Azlyn decided to reel the two of them back from their spiraling internal cycles. “Gentlemen, please.” She waited for both to look to her. “Look, if you’re this worried about Sister Ourcen, then let me go to her. If she’s truly someone that is behind the disappearances, I’ll be whisked away in the night and you’ll have your answer by morning.”

Thancred seemed appalled by her sudden suggestion. “What? No, that’s out of the question. Isembard, you said something about the children. They seem more likely to talk—can you not think of one?”

The De Facto Leader of Camp Drybone nodded. “I know there is one child that she is fond of. Pray seek out the boy and see if you cannot glean something from him about Ourcen’s activities.”

“It’d be quicker if I just went to the church though.” Azlyn pointed out bluntly, but Thancred shut down her plan with an immediate stamp of refusal.

“No. Go to the Golden Bazaar, you’ll find it located just to the northeast of here.” He shook his head. 

Azlyn rolled her eyes. “Alright, but if I don’t find out anything of import I’m going to the church. Just letting you know.” She retreated before Thancred could stop her. She supposed that he could have easily tried to if he wanted, but he seemed to shake his head at her in a disapproving manner. It was already late, so she may not even find the boy out and about.

She ran back up the path, running down the eastern path instead of the western one, and found herself climbing the steep hill to a very small community tucked inside the mountains. The torches were lit at the guard, guiding people inside from the mountain path. She walked inside, keeping to herself. It was then that she found a crouched boy by one of the fires. He was keeping warm, clenching his hands into tight fists.

“Might be worth a shot.” She pumped herself up, and walked over to him. She pointed to the fire he had. “Mind if I join you? It got really cold suddenly.” She shivered as the wind picked up. The boy eyed her cautiously, but nodded to the seat next to him. Azlyn gratefully took the seat he offered, and then opened her satchel. She had some leftover bread, meat, and lettuce for a quick sandwich—and noticed the boy’s eye on her food. “Would you like something to eat? I don’t mind sharing.”

He nodded immediately.

She started to prepare the food, and when she was finished, she handed him the first one. “If you want anymore, let me know.” The boy urchin gave her a smile, and she could see that one of his teeth had fallen out. Possibly a baby tooth. She’d remember losing her teeth around his age. “Did the tooth fairy leave a bronze piece under your pillow?” She asked him.

The boy blinked mid-bite. His mouth still full of food, he spoke. “Toof ‘Airy?”

Azlyn nodded, pointing to her teeth. “Yes, sometimes the tooth fairy comes by and leaves a bronze piece for a tooth.”

His eyes brightened with joy. “Wow!” And then he sighed. “Buf I don’f haf a pillow.” He got sad right away.

The girl snapped her fingers as if she remembered something. “Oh! You know what, I passed by a fairy not too long ago. They said they couldn’t find the child they were looking for, and were distraught by it.”

The boy widened his eyes, his mouth dropped in shock. “Really?”

Azlyn pulled a silver piece from her pocket. “They said there was a child here that lost a tooth, so I said I’d deliver it to him myself. So when I saw you at the fire, I thought this might be the boy! I was right.” She gave him a cheeky grin. “For you. Congrats on losing one of your baby teeth.”

The boy smiled widely at the silver piece, and then looked to Azlyn with a curious look. “Didn’t you say they give bronze pieces though?”

She thought up the answer immediately. “The fairy said you’d be hard to find, so she considered the price of all the teeth you’d lose as you grow up.”

He seemed to accept her answer, as he placed the silver in his pocket. “Thank you miss.”

She nodded. “Anytime. Oh, would you happen to know a Sister Ourcen by chance?”

The boy lowered the last half of his sandwich, a look of worry on his face. “Oh—well you see, she came by earlier—just before you showed up—and I mentioned to her I lost one of my precious belongings. I told her where I left it, so she went in search of it in my stead. I’ve been waiting by the fire for her—but she’s been gone a long while now.”

Azlyn scanned the area, “Which way did she go?”

The boy pointed sadly to the side entrance. “Out there. I’m scared—what if she doesn’t come back? Will she no longer be able to tell me about Thal and the order and the other side? Will I not hear her read?” His eyes started to prickle with tears. They ran down in silent sobs, and Azlyn reached out to comfort him.

“It’ll be alright. I promise.” She reached a pinky out to him. “I’ll find her, and make sure she’s safe and sound.” He sniffled, slowly reaching one of his small pinkies to hers.

“But there’s a lot of monsters out at night.” He sniffled.

Azlyn smiled, shaking his hand with a pinky promise. “Don’t you worry about that—they don’t call me the Bloody Princess of the Sea for nothing.”

His eyes widened. “Wow—I heard of you. You took care of an entire fleet of pirates with laser beam eyes!”

“Alright, I think that rumor’s gone a bit too far.” She sourly noted but stood up from her spot. “I’ll be back, eat your meal and stay warm.” He nodded fiercely to her, a shine in his eye that made her suddenly wish she hadn’t of said she was that princess.

She ran out from the Golden Bazaar, heading in the direction the boy pointed. She ran along the dark paths, jumping and weaving through the desert fauna, and avoiding the local wildebeests. Something white caught her eye in the distance, close to the edge of the mountain further south. She broke into a full sprint, thinking of her sword and shield to come into her hands. As she got closer, she could hear the familiar voice of Sister Ourcen as she yelled. “Lord Thal please save this poor soul.”

She could see two men lumbering to her downed form, she clutched a toy to her chest like a protective charm against evil.

“Hey!” Azlyn shouted, hoping to draw the two’s attention. Both stopped, their bodies jerked in an unearthly way. One of them snapped their head in her direction and the smell of rotting flesh soon permeated her senses. She looked at the state of their being, their torn clothes, ripped and gnarled from heaven knows what. Stains of putrid green, browns, and red on the fronts of their lapels. They both carried pikes with them, ambling slowly to her now that she garnished their attention. She laughed.

“Great, zombies.” She charged into them, using her shield as a battery ram. When her shield impacted the first zombie, she then started to jab several heavy blows into the flesh of the zombie’s neck, she could hear the sickening crunch of brittle bone with each thrust and stab she could muster. She pushed it off, only for the other to tackle her. She slammed into the ground, her shield was up to protect her as it tried to gnash on her with his rotted teeth. She curled her feet up to her waist and kicked both of her feet up into the zombie’s lower abdomen. She felt it fly off her, knocking it back five feet.

The scream of the sister grabbed her attention, at the other zombie she’d stabbed numerous times had tried to attack her. Azlyn rushed in, she brought her sword up high to swing it horizontally at the zombie’s neck. With one quick swing, the zombie struggled as its head toppled off. It rolled in the grass in front of the sister, while the body unnaturally twitched and fell to the ground behind it.

Azlyn ran over to the last one. “Go back to sleep, you dead fool!”

The zombie tried to skewer her with its pike, but she deftly blocked it with her shield, deflecting it away. For good measure, she swung her sword swiftly cutting off its hand holding the weapon and then when it tried to bend down to pick it up, she decapitated it the same way she did the first.

With the battle over, she heaved a long sigh of relief, and then ran over to Sister Ourcen. She knelt beside her. “Are you alright Sister Ourcen?”

The woman nodded. “Thank goodness you arrived when you did. It seems my gratitude is yours yet again.”

Azlyn explained about the boy waiting for her back in the Golden Bazaar. “A young boy said he lost something, and you went to go get it. He was getting worried about you.”

The sister grimaced at the thought. “You spoke with the child? Yes, well, I was able to find his trinket. It is a ring given him by his mother before she passed. I will see it safely back to him.”

The Au Ra asked, “Would you like some company back to the Golden Bazaar?”

“That’s alright, but if you require a place to stay for the night, my offer still stands at the church. Thank you Azlyn.” The Sister bowed to her, a soft smile on her lips. She waved goodbye to her, and watched the sister until she was almost to the Golden Bazaar’s entrance.

Thinking she’d clear the Sister’s intention with this sudden situation, she decided to best to head back into Camp Drybone and explain to Isembard that the sister seemed to have no dealings with the abductions. She thought of the Aetheryte in Camp Drybone, and let herself get whisked away in the night sky.

Azlyn found herself back in Camp Drybone once more, the darkening clouds rolled through with subtle graces of potential rain in the coming day. She took a step forward, only to feel her vision blur. This wasn’t a vision as she felt the strange sensation of numbness run through her entire body. Her head felt woozy, almost as if she couldn’t orient herself. Slowly, she gathered her senses, regaining her sight of the camp around her. The quiet cicadas were chirping, a slight chill blew through with the clouds above, she shook her head from the vertigo. 

Her footsteps were unsteady for the first couple brisk strides, but she pushed through it as she walked back to the watering well. Isembard had been by himself, tapping his knee repeatedly. When he noticed her coming up, did he stand up to greet her. 

“Sister Ourcen was attacked outside the Golden Bazaar.” She weakly stated. 

Isembard went pale with worry. “Gods forfend—I will secure a room at the inn for her should she require any rest.” 

Azlyn nodded, “I don’t think the Sister is behind these abductions. If she was, why would she risk herself over a child’s possession in the dead of night?”

The De Facto Leader nodded in agreement. “Certainly not the dastardly deeds Thancred would have us believe.” The male seemed more at ease with her report now that Sister Ourcen had been cleared. She could tell from his posture, and his relaxed shoulders how relieved he was.  “I need to go and secure that inn room. Come, I’ll see if we can get you a space to retire in for the night. You’ve done so much for us as well.” Isembard gestured for her to follow after him, and together they walked into the Inn.