Chapter 47

(Septham 14th Year 672 of the 4th Age)

(Nowell)

At long last, the members of the Howling Gale arrive at Nowell in Lutis, and the Krusian navy leaves as soon as the cityscape comes within view of the lookout on the crow’s nest. The Lutisian navy instead is now the escorts, and they guide the ship to an empty dock. Only points of interest Arven, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, Sylfinas, and others notice are towers that rise above the city and an enormous, grandiose, military citadel on a cliff that appears to be its own separate community. As compensation for Lorna’s service, Arven hands her the rest of the platinum before disembarking the vessel.

“Here’s the remaining amount of platinum.”

Having a sixth sense, Lorna repeatedly lifts the purse and is gratified with the result. “That concludes our agreement.”

“You plan on leaving soon?” asked Sylfinas.

“After a week at least. The first three to five days are for entertainment and resupply, and then spend the remainder searching for another job. If this city is dry, my crew and I will relocate to another settlement.”

“What about your debt to Omaz?” Kaera inquires.

The fact that she knows Orcish catches Lorna off guard, but she doesn’t inquire how. “I may have to shorten my time here then.”

“Who’s Omaz?” Merrick asks.

“A ruthless drug lord operating in the Arid Sea,” Sylfinas answers, and he glares furiously at Lorna. “Why would you work for him?”

Lorna shrugs. “Business is business. He had the coin that anyone in my line of work can’t refuse.”

“That information would have been beneficial to learn before our embarkment.”

How cute, bastard, Lorna thinks as she shrugs off Sylfinas’s comments. “Should’ve learned what Port Direrun was all about before hiring me or some other smuggler. It’s one of the havens for people in deep shit like me. You could’ve hired a person who wouldn’t hesitate to backstab you.” After throwing the coin purse into the air and catching it with one hand, she walks across the plank to her ship. “I better locate a secure spot for the money before I accomplish other matters. Unless you wish to provoke me further to the point I blast fucking holes in you, I suggest you leave with your companions and complete your original task.” 

As Arven and the other party members navigate the nearby streets further into the city, they first discover that the cobblestone pathways are wider than the avenues in Adoran. So broad that they comfortably handle horse-drawn carriages. The lane they’re currently on is home to restaurants with outdoor seating arrangements, and people are savoring their meal in the fresh air and sunlight. From nobility to commoners consuming food, walking, or riding carriages, wear fancier clothing than Adoranians to cover their olive-colored skin. As much as the party’s stomaches coerce the members to ingest the food, they resist and search for a map to guide them out of the metropolis and onward to Aeyis. Each route they take exposes more buildings, and the individual structures are fabulously aesthetic that it’s art.

The supremely majestic edifice is a cathedral out of white stone, and it’s nine hundred thirty-five feet long, five hundred sixty feet wide, seven hundred thirty-five feet wide at the crossing, and two hundred twenty-five feet tall. There is a massive dome that is five hundred twenty-five feet tall, with smaller domes circling around it on one side. On the perimeter of the primary dome are seven identical statues of a naked woman breastfeeding her infant son. Adjacent to the cathedral but not adjoining is a belfry between the majority of the building and the dome in height, and the bell tolls twelve times. 

It is in the vicinity of the imposing edifices where Arven, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas locate a business specializing in maps and select it as their destination. Inside there are various pieces of equipment: several groups ranging from basic cartography for beginners to advanced sea navigation, the most current maps of Illyria, twelve known continents, and one obscure landmass, nations, or settlements in descending order of size. In addition to the maps, there are six birdcages, with two containing a pair of bloodhawks and the rest possessing one. Even though the customer space is methodical in design, the back room is completely opposite from what they can observe from the open door. As they alert the employee, they hear objects collapsing in the back room, and a man with glasses and ink coating his body hastily walks out.

“I’m Ezone, owner of Ezone’s Navigation Emporium,” the man huffs.“How may I help you?” 

“Salutations,” Sylfinas speaks, “We’re searching for a route from here to Aeyis, and we need a map of the area.”

Ezone first points over to the known continents. “You’ll locate what you’re seeking under the continent of Myrith, and all the kingdoms, nations, and empires are in alphabetical order. There’s actually a new method of transportation that drastically reduces the travel time between Nowell and Aeyis, depending on where in the neighboring country you plan on visiting.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a train with the only route is between here and Lenehil.”

“We’ll keep it in mind. Appreciate it.”

Curious as to where Lenehil is, the group members investigate Aeyis first. Including Lutis, there are five countries that Aeyis shares a border with. Directly to the west are Canir and Krusia, with the former above the latter, and Lutis is below them. Straight north is Novik, and sharing the largest border in the east is the Saiçaran Empire with the bantam country of Turia, the only reason why the boundary line isn’t continuous. As they locate the city of Lenehil, Sylfinas moves his finger over to the border of Canir, and they come to a conclusion.

“It’s near Canir,” Kaera utters first in a low but excited voice. Her tail wags.

“It’s only a day away by foot from there and probably half a day to Kelna,” Sylfinas responds. “Depending on how fast the train travels, our journey may last weeks instead of months.”

“I have zero complaints on reaching home faster."

“It’ll leave me with extra time to spare before my tryout for the Ebony Legion,” Arven speaks.

Believing there is merit to the locomotive, Sylfinas questions Ezone, “How much time does the train take to arrive at Lenehil?”

“Four days, nonstop,” Ezone answers.

“When is the earliest time for departure?”

“Earliest departs tomorrow at ten in the morning, so you still have time to purchase tickets if you’re interested in hitching a ride.

“You have my gratitude. Also, we would like to purchase a map of Aeyis.”

“That’ll cost eight silver.”

“Deal.”

After the acquisition of the map, the party members begin to exit, excluding Merrick. “Wait for me outside. It won’t take me long.”

“We will,” Arven replies.

Now that he has privacy, Merrick inquires Ezone about the bloodhawks and gestures towards them. “You’re in the postal business?”

“I am. Is there someone you wish to send a letter to?”

“Yes. Her name is Myriani Balceran, and her location is Illrus in Crisea.” Next, Merrick acts like he’s familiar with the crucial steps; he reveals a letter and a coin purse containing most of the money from his pockets. “The letter is for the imprint, and the coin purse is the package. Just leave ‘From Merrick,’ and she’ll know immediately what it’s about.”

“Initial price is fourteen gold, and I require something from you to imprint another bloodhawk in case you owe more or for a refund.”

Merrick reveals a dagger, slices a tiny portion of his shaggy hair, and hands it to Ezone along with the payment. With the mandatory checkboxes filled, Ezone attaches the coin purse to a bloodhawk, presses the letter against its head for several seconds, returns it to Merrick, and unleashes the bird out the window; it flies towards its target. And now I’m broke, again, Merrick thinks as he exits the edifice. Only ten gold to my name. Still a tiny amount to pay my debt.

“Done with your errand?” Arven asks when Merrick arrives.

“Yes,” Merrick answers. “Any ideas on how to spend the rest of today in the city?”

“Food, for starters,” Kaera responds though her stomach makes the reply first. “Those restaurants had some delicious food by the smell of it while we searched for a map.”

“I’m hungry, too,” Myla adds.

“It appears it’s settled,” Arven responds. “Let’s grab some food.”

Arven, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas decide to dine at the Aroma Angel and opt for the outdoor seating. After scouring the menu, Arven selects pigeon on top of flat noodles in an alcoholic broth, and Kaera has veal in a golden-brown crust with tomato sauce and melted cheese on top and a side of bread balls stuffed with black rice and cheese. Myla decides on gnocchi with flakes of crab meat. Sylfinas settles for a personal pizza with spinach and pancetta drizzled with spicy olive oil. Since every selection is expensive and not wanting to alert the group to his situation, Merrick orders a six-pound lasagna for a challenge to obtain a free meal and two platinum if he’s triumphant. He has an hour to complete, but he astonishes the crowd by surmounting the challenge in twenty minutes, setting a new record as a bonus.

After surfeiting at the Aroma Angel, the party members then tour the megalopolis together. From the advice of the natives, they navigate to an art museum at Azacce Square across from a water fountain with four levels of circles that collect the water, and the containers shrink as they near the top. The fountain also is home to multiple metal statues of naked men and women covered in avian feces, and water flows directly from their mouths.

There are two bronze statues of a man with an unsheathed sword riding a horse at the steps leading to the museum entrance, and the steed is on its hind legs. Beneath it is an inscription about the statue’s representation when Sylfinas inspects it. “Tazio Sammarco. Liberator, Founder, and First Emperor of the Rumarthan Empire, Year 347 of the 1st Age. Conqueror of Ten Lands.”

Arven, Kaera, and Merrick spend two hours inside the museum looking at paintings, sculptures, and other art forms. Due to an abundance of nudity in the pictures, Sylfinas shields Myla’s eyes, and they wait outside after four minutes. As they wait for their friends sitting on the steps, Myla determines it’s the best time to talk to him about a topic she wants to discuss for days as he feeds the birds.

“I need to talk to you, Sylfinas.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about Merrick.”

“What about him?”

“He’s in pain, and there’s nothing I can do to help him.”

“I don’t notice any injuries on him.”

Myla shakes her head. “It’s his heart, and I’m angry I can’t fix it.” She deliberately cuts Sylfinas and utilizes her talents to heal him quickly without leaving a scar to get her point across.

“Ow! What did you do that for?”

“To show you what I mean. That pain I can help anybody with, and I can calm people down. The only help I can give to Merrick is calming him, but it only slows the pain in his heart. I want to know the reason, or else it will win.”

“You’re just a beginner, so it’ll take time before you’ll learn. As for the reason behind his pain, Merrick has a horrible past of people hating him. He has scars from back then that require time to heal. Besides, he knows Arven, Kaera, and I are here for him whenever he needs it, and we have his back in case of people gang upon him.”

“It may be enough for now, but not for long.”

Speaking of bonding, I should do it with my Spirit so we can grow in power. “I wonder how Sariel’s feeling? Hey Sariel!”

“What is it, Keeper?”

“I was wondering about the academy you and Usse graduated from. What’s it all about?”

“It’s where Spirits of each Nature of magic gather to learn and eventually infuse into a random item to make it magical. Think of it as your typical educational institution in this world, but more focused on monsters and magic instead of mathematics and literature of humanoids. Still the exact drama, though. Once we graduate, we infuse ourselves into an object and wait patiently for some creature with enough intelligence and enough arete to wander by and discover us. Students at the top of the class have the option for sentience in their items. An example would be me, Usse, and Firmis, although Usse's an enigma.”

“So that’s the true reason for magical items existing?”

“Partly. Dragons are responsible for a substantial amount by creating their own items, and humanoids manufactured some too. They infuse part of their own power if they possess enough mana and are skillful enough to not result in their suicide though I never heard of a dragon accidentally killing itself during the creation.”

“Can someone create a magic item with sentience?”

After the question, Sylfinas detects hesitation from Sariel before she responds. “Outside of the Academy for Spirits, it is a forbidden technique in the Art of Abjuration that will send you to prison by Magic Council members if they catch you, and that’s everything I’m willing and able to discuss.”

Out of respect and wanting to remain within the law, Sylfinas switches to a different topic, one that will surely coax a reaction from her. “From the way Usse was acting, it appeared that he adored you. Ever thought of-“

“NOOOOOO!” Sariel yells, and the residents or tourists pause and turn at Myla and Sylfinas. All he can do is wave and smile embarrassingly at them.

“It’s alright, people. Everything is under control.” After several minutes pass, the atmosphere reverts back to normal. “You didn’t have to shout that deafening,” he chides Sariel.

“Then you shouldn’t even have thought of that question,” Sariel retorts. “There is no way in Nine Hells I would consider dating him.”

“Why not?”

“He is too hyper and jejune for my tastes. His fighting style doesn’t mesh with mine.”

“Fighting style?”

“It is reserved for Spirits that choose to be a sentient item, and they select one from the available options that match their personality. There’s a variety to pick from. To utilize my full potential, you need to be up close and personal, or else my healing ability isn’t maximized.”

“You mean I have to be more violent?”

“Sometimes you have to be to protect those you cherish. Plus, you made an agreement that you would be more vicious should it be the only way. However, you don’t have to land the final blow and have someone else do it if it mollifies your belief.”

“Just enough. You may slumber now.”

“Give me a holler when you need anything.”

When Arven, Kaera, and Merrick return from the museum, they decide to spend the remaining part of their day at the beach building sandcastles, playing volleyball, and enjoying other activities that don’t involve swimming. Kaera wishes there is a secluded spot to partake in her Fenri lifestyle. They hear rumors of a prominent pundit's untimely demise but believe it'll be too long to investigate it. As the day transitions into the evening, they locate an inn. Inside, Arven notices a party of Dwarves playing a card game with the cards having the art of monsters and others instead of traditional playing cards and walks over in interest with the rest of his companions behind him. One of them shouts, “Rytt geðtun,” angrily after losing his match. 

“Interested in Champions of Noß?” One of the Dwarves inquires after he notices him.

“Had army friends that were avid gamers, including my brother. It looked interesting, and he taught me some of the basics, but I never had time to learn.”

“If you want, I’d be more than willing to teach you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Arven sits with the Dwarves after one of them pulls up a chair.

"The objective of the game is simple, eliminate the opponent’s three main monsters, have the most remaining monsters by the end of the clock, or the opponent has zero cards in their deck. The standard size is thirty cards, and the absolute maximum is thirty-five; the card categories are monsters, terrain, spells, and equipment. The monsters are either Primary or Support. The Primary monsters start out as babies, but you can evolve them during the match. They will always have three evolutions. Support may also develop once, twice, or none at all, and it provides a defense to the Primary monsters by being the first target or lowering the opponent Primary’s power." The Dwarf points at a Support monster. "Support can shift in any direction indicated by these arrows here, the numbers telling you how much space they can move. The secondary numbers and arrows represent their range of attack. The evolution card must explicitly state the lesser Primary or Support version it connects to use it, and the player must do it in increments, not a massive leap. 

"The terrain cards alter the environment, provide some mana to the pool, and may kill the monsters entirely if they don’t have the suitable adaptations for it, and no more than two can exist in the entire deck. Equipment cards are for buffing the player’s Primaries or providing more mana, emphasizing boosting while spells also collect mana but focus on weakening the opponent's Primaries.

"Each player’s turn has three phases: Draw, Main, and End. During the Draw Phase, the player can only collect one card. The Main phase is where the player spends most of its turn. They can summon support monsters, evolve creatures currently on their side of the field, cast spells, change terrain, or add equipment as many times they have mana remaining. They begin with six Mana Points to spend as they see fit, and each Primary provides two starting off as a Baby. The player collects mana during the Draw phase from all of its sources to do as they wish. Players can also use their Primaries to attack their opponent's Primaries or Support, but it forces them to end their turn even if they want to do additional maneuvers. Monsters have their own health bar, and it lowers once it reaches zero, it perishes. The difference in power level is the only way to damage the opponent Primary’s health, and if the difference is negative, the attacker loses health instead."

After listening intently to the rules and observing a couple of rounds, Arven joins the game, and the Dwarf lends him a deck. Watching the game fills Kaera with maudlin memories of her adopted brother, secretly wiping a tear away. The first three attempts end terribly for him, but he steadily improves until almost winning one time when it is dark outside and the majority of the tavern is vacant. Waving goodbye, he and his friends retire to their rooms, with Kaera looking forward to finally sleeping the way she and her race are comfortable.

(Howling Gale)

After Arven, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas escape her view, Lorna deposits her payment in a secret compartment in the captain’s quarter of the Howling Gale, and she, along with Bolts, walk back onto the docks; they run into Egobert along the way. “Spread the word to everyone on the ship,” she orders. “Consider it my treat when you reserve rooms for a couple of nights at the Midnight Rose.”

The Gnome eyes his captain with interest. “How magnanimous of you?”

“I know it’s inconceivable of me to spend outside of necessities, but you and the rest of my crew earned it. Now, alert the others.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Egobert replies with enthusiasm.

I know they’ll be glad when word reaches them. My crew is considered one of the regulars, but they couldn’t entirely experience everything it has to offer due to money constraints. My team will be too occupied fucking the whores there with brand new options available to notice my plans. To start, Lorna traipses the path along the beach to a tavern called the Freezing Shipwreck and is delighted at the lack of customers so far. A female Half-Orc greets her when she sits at the bar.

“What are you having?” She inquires in a rough voice.

“I’ll have the Bloody Nightingale,” Lorna answered.

The bartender casually prods further into the Wood Elf's request to deduce her purpose. “Shaken or stirred?”

“Whatever makes the Diorno Family sleep at night.”

When the coast is clear, the Half-Orc escorts Lorna to one of the back rooms and uncovers a trapdoor before lifting it to a dark passage and ladder beneath. To her Elven eyes, she discerns round stones for the floor and walls, and the smell of stagnant water assaults her nose, but her experience lessens the impact. She’s also not afraid of her footsteps echoing down the hall as she walks down it to a circular chamber. The only noteworthy object is a thirty-foot-tall and forty-five-foot long statue of a woman with two pairs of tits, long hair, and a lower body spider with the arachnid consuming most of the material.

Saying simple salutations to the people she comes across along the way, Lorna travels down a hallway where three different water paths merge and flow in a single direction and enters the first door on the right. Inside the odorous room from garlic, a blue-skinned male Shaidun with mini bull horns on his head and two abnormal-sized earrings dangling from his ears is entranced by opening mail and paperwork. The squeak from the door alerts him, turns his head slightly, and moves his eyes up at her.

“There is one person in this world that I know of that doesn’t bother knocking prior to entering one's premises.”

“That’s one way of greeting me, Aezzar,” Lorna replies.

Aezzar pauses his writing with a poke of the quill, places the quill into an ink bottle, and sets aside his documents. “You finally manage to return. I thought of sending a search party for you several times but decided against it.”

“Sorry about that. Had some unexpected fuck ups that required more time.”

“Could’ve sent a letter or two to reassure me.”

“There was no secure line of communication where I was. Besides, I thought I proved to you by now about my unwavering loyalty.”

The screech from Aezzar’s chair rubbing against the floor as he stands up forces Lorna to cover her ears. “You’ve been nothing but a major asset for someone who isn’t risk-averse.” He then meanders slowly, inspecting the paintings he has.

“Life would be fucking boring if there isn’t spice.”

“Too much spice can ruin a dish,” Aezzar retorted without breaking eye contact with the art. At Lorna’s left side now, he unsheathes one of her cutlasses and gently slides his left hand down the flat side of the blade. “Such a fine weapon, this is. Ulruth knew how to maintain her weapons. The history of this sword and her sister go way back, and now they’re yours.” 

“Anybody in her hunting zone knew about her.”

“For someone who worked under her before she became ruler of pirates, I expected more.” Aezzar then returns the cutlass back into the sheath and walks back to his chair. “I’m sure the fuck ups took their toll on you, and you desire a couple days of rest. If you don’t mind me asking, what went wrong?”

“It’s the Phehans. The Dark Elves are expanding aggressively into Kerithian and Meriderthan Seas. I had to hide for a few days until it was safe to sail on some occasions.”

Aezzar sits back in his chair; it creaks from his weight and taps two fingers together. “Damn Dark Elves. I don’t need those fucking Ash-Faces affecting my operations. I’ll focus on them later. Right now, I have other matters to tend to, and there’s one I’m looking for a certain someone with your talents to accept it.”

“I’m sure this someone would accept if they didn’t have Ormaz breathing down their fucking neck, and they finally have the money to settle the debt.”

“And it would be detrimental to a business if it declares war against him all because of a debt. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting any longer than he has to, so I’ll conclude our meeting for now, and I’ll check out my Cerberus and Dragon Turtle and see how they’re doing.”

After parting ways, Lorna and Bolts return to the chamber and turn right until they reach the second door. The other people are engaged in an archery contest with a humanoid corpse, and its head falls off from the impact. The sight of the weapons makes her feel ecstatic, like a child in a toy store upon entering in. Anything she desires is here though she zeroes in on the firearms and a male Majakaal with tattoos on his body cleaning a fresh delivery.

“Mekhet, I’m back,” Lorna utters with enthusiasm.

“Clink-clank!”

Mekhet appears delighted to hear her voice and smiles when he stares at them. “It’s good to see you again, Lorna.”

“Clink-clank.” Bolts sounds irritated.

“And you too, Bolts,” the bipedal jackal responds.

“I need to restock on ammo. Do you have any and any new firearms available?”

Mekhet places two containers of bullets. “I possess as much ammo for your two revolvers and your trapdoor rifle as you desire. I have new firearms that are an improvement, but they’re already under contract for someone else, so I can’t hand them to you. However, I can make a slight modification to your revolvers from single action to double action, meaning you simply squeeze the trigger to cock the hammer and fire in one motion instead of manually cocking the hammer before firing. Allows for quicker follow-up shots.”

“And whose’s the cocksucker I have to kill for the adjustment?”

Mekhet acknowledges that Lorna’s still not interested in haggling, pulling out a list of names. It is long enough to roll off the counter. “It’s a simple job for a simple modification. The Night Reaper gave another list of targets to his children, and one just so happens to exist in Nowell.” He pulls the paper back till he locates the name, pointing at it. “He’s a food critic named Aturo Vanni, and the Night Reaper himself wants him dead. Kill him, and I’ll modify your revolvers.”

“Deal.”

“Excellent." The bipedal jackal hands Lorna a picture of her target. "Here’s what his figure is, and I’ll wait.”

“Any stipulations? Can I just blast the shit out of him, or do I need to be discrete?”

“Since this is the Night Reaper’s contract, he would prefer zero collateral if possible, so the more discrete, the better. Word on the street is he can’t handle spicy food, but you can dispose of him however you please. He’s not under heavy security.”

“I’ll restock on my ammo and purchase some gear before completing the contract. Then I’ll come back for the modifications.”

Lorna’s complete purchase consists of ammo enough to raise her revolver supply to sixty and her rifle stock to twenty-five, twenty throwing knives, and three vials of poison. Back on the streets of Nowell, she and Bolts begin their search for Aturo in an area with the most popular restaurants and taverns first. At the Marinara Queens, a brand new restaurant only five months old and spreading like wildfire, Bolts locates him first, jotting down his notes and reading the menu.

“Clink-clank.”

“I see him, Bolts. Wait here and act natural while I silence him.”

“Clink-clank?”

“I don’t know. Read a fucking newspaper or something else that is typical for humanoids. You stick out like a sore thumb and risk blowing my cover.”

“Clink-clank.”

“I didn’t say you’re hideous.”

“Clink-clank.”

While its master movers towards her target, Bolts notices a fashion store for females and decides to hang out there to act normal. Its equivalent of a heart is elated at the sight of fancy to standard dresses and plain underwear to sexy lingerie though its face can’t express emotions. There’s a section to try out the clothing, and one room is available, so it gathers numerous dresses, bras, and panties before locking the door.

At the Marinara Queens, Lorna enters stealthily through the back door into the kitchen and scouring the dishes for Aturo’s order. The sound is an amalgam of food cooking, roaring flames from alcohol, commands from the head chef to the cooks to maintain the pace or accelerate, plates making contact on the surface for the waiters to retrieve for the customer, and others reveal a hectic scene. The smell of various fruits, garlic, herbs, and spices coerce her to salivate unconsciously, and she has to suck her drool in two instances.

“I need the Lobster-Stuffed Swordfish with marinara this instant,” the chef orders urgently. “Customers don’t pay for slow service, particularly him.” Lorna scours the tickets for anything unique, and there is only one ticket with the word “urgent’ on it.

More flames roar intensely from a pan with two fish filets wrapped around lobster stuffing after a cook pours white wine into it, followed by two ladles of tomato sauce. The cook then places the food on a plate and tops it with cheese and herbs before grabbing the crucial ticket. To further confirm Lorna’s suspicions, it travels across the restaurant to the outside to Aturo, and she grits her teeth. Dammit!

Lorna’s new opportunity to silently assassinate her target arrives when he requests another refill of his wine glass. Her eyes follow intently at the waitress tending to him as she scurries quickly to the wine stash, disposing of an empty bottle, and opening a new one, a Year 600 Céndric Charatto. A major accident from a sudden collision between a customer and waitress spills empty, filthy dishes onto the floor, shattering the glass. The clangorous noise causes everybody to divert their attention before reverting back, and Aturo’s waitress lends a helping hand. With his inebriant unattended, Lorna seizes the opportunity and successfully poisons the beverage, leaving the scene and snagging a bottle of wine off a table along the way. She observes from afar in safety as Aturo eventually sips the toxic drink. The first three minutes have zero effect on him, but he then commences to cough and quickly progresses to act like he’s choking. His eyes turn red and bloodshot, and blood pours through as he convulses on the ground gasping for air in vain. Satisfied with the results, she begins to search for Bolts.

“Bolts?”

“Clink-clank.” The sound comes from behind Lorna.

“There you are, and you’re not in deep shit. I’ve completed my objective. Let’s return to Mekhet, obtain my modified revolvers, and rest.”

“Clink-clank.” Bolts's neutral expression masks that it is in trouble though the robot and Lorna will be far away when it manifests.

Per the agreement, the Majakaal adjusts Lorna’s revolvers within an hour to where they cock and fire with one squeeze of the trigger instead of manually cocking it before ejecting the bullet. Since she’s in warm relations with the owner of the Freezing Shipwreck, she reserves a room for herself and Bolts at a discount and hurries to it when she notices Arven, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas enthralled by a card game. Instead of allowing Bolts to greet them, she drags it away under muffled protest. Under the privacy of their room, clothes of an even mix of dresses and underwear form a pile after Bolts opens its chest compartment.

“Clink-clank,” it acts exultant at its loot.

“Where did you acquire these?” Lorna demands

“Clink-clank.”

“You need to watch how much you spend. In case you forgot, we’re in a hole, and it’s a deep one to one serious motherfucker.”

“Clink-clank.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Clink-clank,” it replies with a slap to its forehead, gesturing to the bottle.

“It was abandoned. I can’t allow a good bottle of wine or hard liquor to go to waste.”

“Clink-clank.” It ignores Lorna and focuses on her treasure, acting agitated when she steals from it.

“You can have one complete set.”

“Clink-clank.”

“Two then.”

“Clink-clank.”

“Three, and that’s as high I can yield.”

“Clink-clank.” It gives up on arguing with Lorna and selects two fancy dresses, one regular, and three erotic sets of bra and panties. The rest they’ll sell, and Lorna is determined to turn a profit.

The night is peaceful and temperate when the occupants succumb to their fatigue. Light directly from the moon and its reflection off the water’s surface flood Lorna’s room as she and Bolts are in a trance. An orange color mixes with the current color before it dominates the other, and Bolts is aware of the change. The metallic construct's vigorous shaking wakes her with a groggy sound, and when she questions, it points out the window. The more her mind clears and smells smoke from the open window, the more horror fills her as she realizes what’s happening. Fire, and it’s from the brothel her crew is staying at.

Lorna’s eyes detect sparks below her from a shadow figure, and she lands directly on it, fatally stabbing it in the head with her dagger as it ignites a fuse. Her quick thinking results in the water erupting with sounds of a boom and liquid particles falling following the explosion. The additional shock causes her jaw to drop when the assailant’s identity is one of the night crew with Laz. Holding on to the hope, she bolts towards the inferno into a legion of people interested in the event. As hard as they try, the buckets of water can’t quell the fire, and she knows that it’s most likely her crew is dead.

Another thought materializes in her head, and she charges back to the docks. The Howling Gale, her precious ship, and the valuables on it are nowhere in sight. Each piece of the picture she gathers only adds more fury till she snaps back at the docks.

“Laz, you fucking cunt-shitting, son of a bitch!” Coinciding with her profanity that the hardest of sailors dare to spill, Lorna pounds furiously at the floorboards. 

“Quite an exciting night, this turns out to be,” Aezzar says as he strolls down the wooden docks with a grin.

“What do you want, Aezzar?” Lorna demands irascibly. “You can see I’m not in the fucking mood right now.”

“Since it appears you can’t repay your debt to Ormaz currently, I still have that job that you just so happen to have time for. I guarantee the pay is overkill to what you owe even if you add extra to make him like you more.”

“What is it?”

“There’s a monster in Canir that is threatening a distribution network of my products to nations up north. I’m sure you can guess where I’m going with this.”

“I do, and I accept.”

“Splendid.” Aezzar flees casually when he notices Bolts running closer towards them with Arven, Kaera, Merrick, Myla, and Sylfinas right behind it. Believing he has ample time left, he turns around at the point where the wood transitions into stone. “In case you forgot, your blood has just as much at stake as everyone else.” The darkness then swallows him as he walks away.