Sara collapsed onto the final, moss-covered stone landing at the top of the 22,222 steps leading up Mount Heruffly. Her Tiefling lungs burned like she had swallowed actual fire, and her thighs were actively vibrating with lactic acid.

“I remember explicitly adding this mountain as a throwaway piece of character backstory,” Sara gasped, clutching her chest and trying not to vomit. “I’m deeply, profoundly regretting it now.”

“It’s not that bad!” Muffin was completely unbothered, her Level 12 Monk agility rendering the brutal vertical climb entirely effortless. She wasn't even breathing hard. “People in the village used to come and go two or three times a day sometimes!”

“Up that?” Sara looked back down the dizzying, near-vertical climb that disappeared into the clouds below, and shook her horned head. “Fuck that. Never again. Now, where is your village?”

“Just around the other side of that peak,” Muffin smiled, jerking a green thumb behind her. “Let’s go. Mom and Dad will be so psyched to meet you!”

Sara was genuinely intimidated by Muffin’s sheer, boundless energy. How in the hell did she do it? Sara forced herself to her feet, leaning heavily on her knees for a moment before following the Githzerai.

“Tell me about Mister Wizard’s Untimely Demise,” Sara asked between heavy breaths as they navigated the narrow, winding ridge.

Muffin shrugged casually. “It’s nothing special, really. It used to have a lot more people than it does now. Almost everyone left to be closer to the major cities and the trade routes.”

Sara felt those words. It was something she’d encountered firsthand on her trip to Japan, seeing the sad, abandoned mountain towns on her drive back through the winding roads over Mount Hiei. “How many people are still there?”

“Seven,” Muffin responded brightly. “Including me… so six, actually.”

“Damn.” Sara followed Muffin around the narrow path and finally laid eyes on the tiny, isolated village. “How many used to live here?”

“About two hundred,” Muffin said, gesturing expansively to the hollowed-out settlement in front of them.

Three distinct levels of traditional, wood-and-paper homes decorated the side of the mountain, with a massive set of stone steps going straight up the center to a crumbling, majestic monastery at the very top.

No one was out. The streets were entirely silent. It was eerie, but undeniably beautiful at the same time. To see such a massive population drop with only six people left behind, Sara wondered if it was because they couldn’t afford the journey to leave, or if they genuinely loved the isolation. She would need to find out.

“Is it just your parents and another family left?” Sara pried as they walked up the central steps toward the middle tier.

“No,” Muffin smiled proudly. “My mom and dad, three sisters, and a brother. We’re the only ones here.”

The house they finally stopped in front of was modest, no bigger than a small two-bedroom Earth apartment. It was completely dwarfed by the massive, empty homes around them that could have easily been sprawling, four-bedroom ranches.

Muffin pulled the heavy wooden door open and walked inside, enthusiastically waving Sara in. “I’m home, everyone!”

As Sara stepped through the doorway, a cacophony of loud, joyous greetings erupted. The entire family crowded into the main room, massive smiles on their green, brown-speckled faces.

An older Githzerai man stepped forward, a warm, welcoming smile breaking across his weathered face. Sara was momentarily stunned. He was wearing a full, impeccably tailored, rusty-burgundy Zoot suit, complete with a crisp black shirt, a stark white straight-sided tie, a wide-brimmed white fedora, and shiny black-and-white wingtip shoes.

“Hi!” He extended a large, calloused hand out to Sara. “I’m Doors Top. You must be Sara!”

Sara’s hand magnetically extended to meet his, her brain struggling to process the visual absurdity. “I’m so glad to meet you, Doors.”

“Sara!” One of the older Gith women—dressed in a full, rhinestone-studded Western cowgirl outfit, complete with literal spinning spurs on her leather boots—reached out and pulled Sara into a tight, aggressive hug. “I’m Muffin’s Mom, Tube! I’m so glad you’re here! Come in, come in. Kids, don’t crowd the guest!”

Muffin bounded forward, hugging her mom and dad at the same time. As the parents stepped back, a younger woman with a massive shock of poofy, powdered-red hair stepped up to fill the void. She was wearing a stunning, historically accurate Vintage Renaissance Champagne Rococo-Baroque Queen dress, complete with a tight corset and wide panniers.

“I’m Kara!” She leaned in for a very dainty, restrictive hug due to the dress structure. “Muff has told us so much about you! Thank you so much for helping her get away from those awful bird-dudes!”

Sara, still completely awash in the sensory overload of the family's wardrobe, smiled weakly. “She actually knocked the main guy out herself. I just threw him onto his friends.”

Kara let out a genuine, booming chuckle, completely breaking the aristocratic illusion, and turned to a Githzerai woman dressed in a flawless, fringe-covered 1920s flapper outfit, complete with an impossibly long, elegant cigarette holder that was actually a functional vape pen. “Oh, Tippy. You’re gonna absolutely love Sara!”

Tippy stepped forward, extending her arm out with a limp wrist, offering the back of her hand draped downward in a classic, aristocratic greeting for Sara to kiss. “I’m sure I will, darling! Someone with a dropkick like yours is always welcome in this house.”

“Thank you,” Sara said, politely grasping the offered fingers and giving a small, theatrical bow to play along.

The family eagerly ushered her through the cozy house to the kitchen area, where the final three siblings managed to shock Sara in equal measure.

Muffin’s third sister was wearing a plain white T-shirt, standard blue jeans, and normal, worn-out sneakers. “I’m Crop. Have a seat over there by Mountain and Tube.”

Sara crossed the room to sit next to a male Githzerai who looked, in every conceivable physical way, exactly like the towering strongman Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson.

Sara reached out and met Mountain's mighty paw as she sat at the wooden table next to him. The table wasn’t set with any food or plates—just six unopened cans of Bang Energy drinks that hadn’t sold back at the shop, which Sara had let Muffin bring home the day before.

Sara took a beat, looking at the heavy aluminum cans, thinking of those 22,222 steps. Muffin carried a case of energy drinks up that mountain? Twice? In two days? Monks were terrifying.

“Howdy!” Mountain met her grip with a surprisingly gentle, highly controlled touch. “Muff said you wrestled. Can you show me how to correctly execute the Last Ride powerbomb?”

Sara chuckled as the rest of the eccentric family took their seats around the cramped table. “Absolutely.”

“So, Sara,” Doors started, his Zoot suit shifting as he leaned forward, his tone turning serious. “Muff tells us that she wants to stay with you down in your city. Are you actively aware that there are severe, systemic prejudices against the Githzerai among the common people? Having our kind residing in your settlement could bring a lot of unwanted, hostile attention to your business.”

Sara took a careful, measured moment to consider the gravity of the question before responding. “I want all the attention.”

The family's faces collectively soured at the seemingly arrogant answer, but Doors didn’t flinch. He narrowed his amber eyes. “You aren’t vain. I can see that. So why do you actively want the hostile attention?”

“To show the rest of the world exactly how people treat you,” Sara was resolute, her managerial spine locking into place. “Let them come. Let them hate. Muffin can take care of herself physically. And emotionally? She’s going to be surrounded by family.”

“That’s all I need!” Muffin wiggled happily in her wooden seat, beaming at her siblings. “I get to see both of my families any time I want now!”

“Hold on, just a minute, Muff,” Tube reined her daughter's enthusiasm in, adjusting her cowgirl hat. She looked sharply at Sara. “Why do you actively want to show people how they treat us? That will just make more people hate us loudly. That’s exactly why we retreated up here to be happy by ourselves.”

Sara folded her hands over her plastic clipboard, looking at the spaces between the family members, seeing far beyond what they were asking and straight to the heart of their generational concern.

“My world—Earth—went from no one knowing what happened beyond a hundred miles of their home, to knowing absolutely every dark, horrible secret the world was hiding, almost overnight. In my own lifetime.” Sara paused for a moment, taking a deep, ragged breath. “It’s terrifying to think about… putting it like that.”

“Then, why do it?” Mountain asked, his deep voice rumbling. “Why risk exposing vulnerable people like us to that kind of spotlight? There are less than ten thousand Githzerai remaining in all of Tawagoto.”

Sara snapped into corporate overtime mode. “Because the people who spread the news and controlled the narrative on my planet were exclusively people who were reaching for power, dominance, and control over minorities. I’m going to beat the King to it here. We control the narrative. We control the exposure.”

Doors looked at Tube for a long, calculating moment before shifting his gaze to Crop, Tippy, and Kara in the corner, finally landing on the massive Mountain. “What do you all think?”

A long, heavy silence hung in the kitchen air as everyone silently communicated through a series of subtle nods and glances. Muffin practically hummed with excitement in her chair.

“I say yay,” Mountain nodded slowly.

“We agree,” Tube, Crop, Tippy, and Kara chimed in perfect unison, clearly sharing Muffin’s rising energy, just waiting for Dad to give the official go-ahead to celebrate.

Tube nodded her cowgirl hat firmly.

Doors took a deep breath, composing himself, and smoothed the lapels of his Zoot suit. “Sara, I would like to officially ask if you have room for all of us to come to your town. We offe—”

“Of course,” Sara cut him off firmly, not needing a bribe. “You don’t need to offer anything more than your cheer and your company.”

Doors was visibly taken aback by the unconditional acceptance. “Sara, we operate the Shart Oubliette.”

Sara froze. The tactical gears in her head spun wildly, accessing deep, buried tabletop lore, until it finally clicked. Her eyes pulled incredibly wide. “Wait. You’re… you're Shet the Shitman Shart?”

A beaming, incredibly proud smile broke across Doors' face, and the tension in the room instantly evaporated. “One and the same!”

Sara couldn’t believe it. She was literally sitting in the presence of Tawagoto wrestling royalty. The Shart Oubliette was the most legendary, brutal wrestling training dungeon in the entire lore. “You can actually teach me the mechanics?”

“And anyone else in your camp who is interested,” Tippy wheezed happily through her long vape pen. “We all train daily.”

Sara's mind raced with the logistical possibilities. To have an entire family of high-level Wrestler-class trainers permanently residing in her city would be an amazing martial boon. And to have the biggest historical star as the head trainer? She could actually start broadcasting live matches if they ever got the technological infrastructure down beyond the Forest of Nihilism.

“I can even show you something I’ve been actively working on, based entirely on the fighting style you used to spar with Muffin,” Kara said, smoothing her Renaissance skirts. “I can show you how to seamlessly blend your Krav Maga strikes into the grappling.”

“You can formulate a curriculum for that from just a couple minutes of sparring that Muffin relayed to you verbally?” Sara asked, highly interested.

“Yes,” Kara responded plainly, with absolute, unwavering confidence.

“Well. Okay, then.” Sara clicked her pen and began furiously scribbling notes on her clipboard. “Let’s build a fucking empire.”

She underlined her final note three times so she wouldn't forget the ultimate goal: Figure out how to become ethical Vinny Mac.