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7.04
One-hundred and fifty-three. Don’t ask for immortality from the ‘Merchant of Lies’. Getting petrified into a golden statue isn’t as fun as it sounds. Actually forget that, Yoseph, I have an idea to pay you back.” - Elliot’s Enchiridion of Encounters

Johnny Joymoon feared silence.

The world that was too quiet was terrifying, the trees gone still, the animals gone hiding. As if winter had come early.

But the silence Johnny feared was not that stillness, not the world without life.

It was the world where one thing ruled supreme and stole all other life, stole their breath, stole their memory.

Stole his family.

Johnny was a child without a past, it was taken from him. As he lay shivering in the broken stones of that shattered tower, a piece of chalk still clutched tightly in his fingers, he knew the thing he feared was dead.

But who was he?

In that span of time that seemed to stretch on forever, he started seeing them again. Corpses, so many corpses. Standing in the shadows, watching him, asking him, begging him to answer. Do you remember me? Child of sorrow?

Johnny did.

So that thing of many hands, it writhed unbridled as it grasped and ripped and teared at the world around him.

It killed Utoqa.

He saw the blood drip, those reptilian eyes stare at him. Unblinking as he struggled, but was eventually ripped apart. Did it kill the replicated Utoqa or was that the original? Johnny didn’t know, he couldn’t tell for the mess of blood and gore was so real.

And the hands began to reach out, grasping, finding a target. It ripped at the corpses, tearing them apart. There was screaming, horrible screaming. It lashed out blindly, and two men were ripped apart. Were they corpses or people?

Johnny could not tell, for both seemed so real to him. Was the blood from the ghosts or from the people around him?

So he ran.

The ghost's hands reached for him. Surrounding him, covering him as he fled. Johnny tripped, yet he got up. He had to, otherwise more would die. More would die as he only watched.

He didn’t know when he collapsed. Only that he couldn’t run anymore. He curled there, hiding as those horrible, horrible hands draped themselves around him. In his hands he found that doll again. It was always there, he knew instinctively, that he could never get rid of it, never throw it away.

Johnny only raised his head when he heard footsteps.

“Oh! I found him Mr Peterson!” exclaimed a cheerful voice.

The lady who stepped into the alley peered through the darkness. She had pale white skin and wore a well washed apron, her brown hair tied back in a sensible bun. A leather eyepatch covered one eye, and the other was a dot of brownish black.

The other person wore a leatherworker’s smock, squinting into the darkness of the alleyway.

“Go away!” Johnny threw out his arm, as if trying to swat them away. “Go away!”

“Mel it ain’t looking too good,” the fishmonger said with a thick accent.

“It’s alright.” ‘Mel’, the lady took a step forward.

“Don’t come near me!” Johnny yelled. “It’ll hurt you!”

The ghost tree moved. Each of its hands springing like a coiled serpent.

And the lady waved at it.

“Hello, I’m Melinda Myers, local doctor,” she introduced herself.

The arms grabbed her, holding her face, neck. Invisible hands pushing deep imprints into her skin.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” she spoke calmly and gently, a smile ever on her face. “I just want to help him.”

The nails dug in, drawing blood. A red stream that flowed down her face.

Yet her kind smile did not waver.

The hands withdrew.

“How…” Johnny choked out. “How did you…”

Melinda put her hands to her hips, “Well, you just need to talk to him. He’s deathly worried about you.” A slight chuckle escaped her lips. She knelt down beside him, a hand extended to him. “Well?” she asked, “I wasn’t lying, I want to help you.”

“Why?” he croaked out.

“You look like you need more good things in your life,” she told him. “Everyone does, but you look like you need it more in particular.”

Johnny almost reached for it then, but his hand shied away. “No… I heard the screams, I know what the ghost did. People are dead because of me.”

And Johnny crawled back into the cage of ghostly hands. “I don’t deserve good things.”

Melinda’s hand reached in and grasped his own. “You don’t get a say in the matter,” she chuckled. “Good things will happen to you, if not me then someone else. It is inevitable.”

She pulled him up, before whispering to his ear. “Let me tell you a secret, a big secret. Things will be bad, but then they’ll be good.”

She ruffled his hair, “Remember that, but keep it secret! It’s not supposed to be known. Then it’ll be too easy for everyone.”

Melinda led him, and Johnny followed. For a moment, it felt better. The ghost creature, suddenly not as threatening, the doll of the Weeping Child, suddenly not as creepy. “But if it’s a secret, why do I get to know?”

She winked, “Because you need something to look forward to. That’s why you get to find out. That’s how we all find out.”

And they left that alleyway. It was only afterwards that Johnny realised the man- Mr Peterson- was a ghost. He peeked through a wall, signalling them to hide as a few adventurers passed by.

With the help of Mr Peterson, they managed to sneak silently through the town, avoiding adventurers, until Johnny spotted someone.

He cupped his hands around his mouth, “Tai!”

Tai turned and saw them, and she jogged towards them. “Johnny!”

Tai passed through Mr Peterson, completely unaware he was there, before she placed her hand on her sword hilt. “Talk,” she demanded, “Who are you, and why should I not cut you down immediately?”

Melinda glanced at the blade.

“Because lady.” Johnny jumped as another voice suddenly appeared. Another ghost who stepped through the brickwork. “You are lacking allies in this city, and I wish to help.”

“Because lady,” Melinda began, even imitating the slightly ominous voice of the new ghost. “You are lacking allies in this city, and I wish to help.”

Tai narrowed her eyes. “Can I trust her Jojo?”

“She helped me,” he replied simply.

“Lead the way then,” she directed, gesturing at Melinda.

Melinda smiled, nodding as she walked with almost a skip in her step. She almost felt too cheerful. Noam was cheerful, but in an asshole sort of way. Melinda felt… sunny.

Her home was nondescript, Johnny would have missed it if he simply saw it from the outside.

If it wasn’t surrounded by ghosts.

A veritable crowd of them stood around her home, greeting and waving at her. She returned the favour, which drew strange looks from Tai. Johnny quietly mouthed, “She’s like me.” Which got her nodding in understanding.

The second strange thing about her house was that it was filled with corpses.


There was a squelching sound as Melinda cut open a body. Tai was more than used to the sight of blood however the operation still made her slightly squeamish. Cutting someone open in the middle of a fight was very different than on an operating table.

“I’m almost done with your autopsy Mr Peterson, it was the pancreas afterall,” Melinda spoke to the ghost which Johnny told her was around. The woman always seemed to speak with an upbeat and cheerful tone, even humming a tune as she went about her work, which was giving Tai serious whiplash knowing now that she was a mortician.

Well, at least she enjoyed her work.

There was a pushing feeling as Celine established the connection. Her magic was technically a curse. However, it was a curse in the same way a vegetable knife was a sword. Both blades that cut, but built for a completely different purpose.

“Are we all here?” Dustin said over the connection.

“Ayo,” Noam replied, his voice was a whisper, and Tai felt another push as Celine squished their dolls closer together. Once she had their dolls, Celine only had to smudge them uncomfortably close together. A sound had to be really close to the dolls for them to hear it. There was a small pressure, but it wasn’t like the force was amplified, it just felt like a cloth doll was smushed against her skin.

“Update on everyone’s status?” Dustin said. “Currently Celine and I are at the Hearth Church. I’ve set up an initial defensive perimeter.”

“I’m with Johnny, we’re with the stranger, and are currently hiding at her place,” she reported.

“Utoqa’s with me, we got tossed in neighbouring cages. I’m spent on mana, and Utoqa is still wounded,” Noam replied.

“I’m trying to fix whatever it is that did this,” Celine replied. “But it isn’t taking. Every time I fix the wound, Utoqa gets pricked three more times and a larger wound appears.”

“Tracks,” Noam agreed. “A crossbow dude is stabbing him with a bolt three times every now and again when it looks like he’s recovered.”

“He has some kind of bonus on his third crossbow strike,” Dustin muttered. “Not just with crossbows? Seems like it must be on the same target.”

“Why so?” Tai asked.

“If it can be stacked with different targets, then they would be stacking them on dummies and unleashing the third more deadly shot on actual targets,” Dustin replied with his reasoning.

“Just to be clear, by dummies he means carrying around small animals which you torture,” Noam replied.

“Gee, you didn’t have to say that part out loud,” Dustin replied drily. “Noam, any idea of where you are?”

“Dark, stone bricks, kinda musty.” Tai felt Noam’s doll shrug beside her. “Unfortunately I was knocked out for real. So no idea on the way here.”

“A castle or dungeon of some sort, can you escape?” Dustin asked.

“By myself? Probably, at least I can suicide, but Utoqa’s a different problem.”

“A concerted rescue effort is needed then. We’ll-” Dustin suddenly paused.

“Do you see them?” Celine asked.

“Yellow does,” Dustin replied.

“See what?” Noam asked.

“A contingent of combatants have arrived, several match the description of the Traveler’s we have engaged in. The city guard as well,” Dustin reported. From the feeling of his doll, it seems like he stood up.

Tai jumped up as well, hands grabbing her blade, “Should I come?”

“You are too far. Noam, gather more information about your prison. Tai, keep Johnny safe and figure if that lady can assist us,” Dustin quickly shot off. “Our position is fortified. We will not be taken easily, even against Travellers, however we should in general avoid any such conflict.”

“Why not?” Celine asked.

It was Tai who answered. “Immortal Wars.”

She had heard from her grandmother, who was old enough to be alive when gems and diamonds were a lot more common. The why of the conflict didn’t matter, when resurrection magic was in play the greatest combatants would be constantly brought back to continue fighting.

“Indeed, our builds are suited for being outnumbered, but when both sides can respawn it’ll just drag on and escalate.” Dustin’s voice became fainter. “Sister Glascoin, what do you plan to do…”

Celine was speaking as well, but her voice was also becoming fainter. Until neither of them could be heard. The communication had ended.

Tai was still gripping her sword. Holding it so tightly her hand almost bled.

Once again she couldn’t do anything.

“Hello!” Melinda’s cheerful voice called out. Tai raised an eyebrow at her, to which the mortician smiled and held out a tray of snacks. “Don’t worry, I washed my hands before preparing tea.”


We weren’t surrounded at least. They were also bunched up, which was a good sign. I could theoretically take them all out with a single Rot Spores.

Sister Glascoin walked out first, meeting them on the grass, I followed behind her. Celine stayed back. She wasn’t durable, nor was she any good in a direct combat scenario. Sister Glascoin as far I could tell was a pure priest, no combat capability.

If it turned into a fight, I would be alone.

“Governor Hye,” Sister Glascoin greeted the woman in the lead. “What brings you here?”

“It has been a while since our previous meeting,” the woman was older, dark haired and light skinned. Her eyes were sharp, as if considering us, more importantly, analysing me. “I have come to discuss the child care regulations of the Hearth faith. It has dropped considerably in quality. I’m not sure if you are legally allowed to continue on your work in this current state.”

Glascoin was shaking. She hid it well, but she was next to me, and my manasense picked up such things. “What would you have me do?”

“Raise the standards,” Hye simply replied, handing her a paper list. “Previous incidents have shown that you require an emergency fund, as well as have insurance. The Hearth Church here does not respond well to crisis, that is a fact that must be rectified. If the Hearth cannot care for itself, who can trust it to care for children?”

She was civil, calm and collected as if she were merely an inspector pointing out some safety problems. I would’ve been more inclined to accept the act if she didn’t show up with ten armed fighters. A fight would be difficult, at the back was the katana man Noam and Utoqa faced. If Noam’s description was right, we were already within his range. There was a low chance I could survive his attack, but Glascoin was a different story. If I did attack, we had long lost any initiative. They were slowly, but noticeably spacing themselves out. My AOE attacks would have less effect.

If it came down to a fight, there was almost no chance of success. Hye had yet to acknowledge me, despite the fact her bodyguards fought me not long ago. Why was she being this civil?

“Hearth bless me,” Glascoin’s voice shook as she read the list.

Realisation came swiftly. The Hearth was of Lorn and Gwaina. Leaders of the Elder Pantheon. They were old gods, declining gods, weakening gods.

But still gods, and who knew what would happen if you attacked their priest in front of their house?

“It will be difficult to meet all the regulations, but I will be able to do it,” Glascoin replied as she handed the paper back.

To which Hye waved her hand away, “Keep it as a reference. I do hope you successfully meet all the standards. A lot of people are relying on you.”

She turned to walk away. Was that it? I didn’t obtain nearly enough information through this encounter. The Hearth remains a safezone, as I already knew from Tilt’s church. This shakedown barely revealed any of her intentions, nor did I gain any more knowledge on combat capability.

I drummed my stuff, do I go for it? A fight was out of the question, even with homeground advantage, it would be an immense slog and the victor would not be clear. I was essentially a mass chemical weapon, the collateral I could cause was enormous. Do I dare incite conflict so close?

As her bodyguards turned away, I made my decision. “Earlier today there were some signs of fighting in the city.”

A pause.

“Some roughian mercenaries entered the city, it is what should be expected,” Hye replied.

Still so indirect? Was she afraid of fighting me, or the Hearth behind me? If Noam was here, he would’ve called her out by now. That would’ve made things simpler. Maybe not easier, but definitely simpler. Still, there were far too many things to consider, I couldn’t take the brash approach-

“Gah! All this stupid, let’s just fight here and see who wins!” a man yelled out. I don’t recognise him, he was not part of the adventurers I encountered. My first thought was a monk, and I quickly matched him to a player Noam had killed immediately upon their first encounter.

“My name is the World! I am of the Scarlet Samsara guild!” he proudly declared as he stepped forward. “Let us engage in one on one combat, and let the winner decide all!”

There were looks of disbelief across the other adventurer’s faces. Noam’s swiftness in dispatching him meant I had little information on this person, but if he were a constitution build then I was fucked.

But there was a chance.

“On what authority can you make this bet?” I asked him. “I am interested, but if you cannot give me what I want, then I’m afraid that it’ll be a fight for nothing.”

“I am the vice-leader of Scarlet Samsara, I hold sway within the guild. If I ask to withdraw then we will!”

“I don’t need just your withdrawal, I want my imprisoned allies returned.”

“That too will be simple!”

“Then I shall lay out the terms,” I said as I slammed my staff down. Mycelium spread out on the ground, threads weaving out words.

Dustin of the Toy Dragons will battle The World of Scarlet Samsara immediately, using all means available to them, until their first death or surrender.

On the occasion that The World loses, Scarlet Samsara will release Noam the Skald and Utoqa the Tribeless, along with withdrawing from future conflicts with the Hearth Church and Toy Dragons.

On the occasion that Dustin loses, the Toy Dragons will withdraw from any future conflicts with Scarlet Samsara.

This agreement will be held with all watching members and their gods as witnesses.

“Do you agree with these terms as they are stated, The World of Scarlet Samsara?” I asked, my voice leaking with power. I had to get him quick, before he had time to reconsider.

Hye shook herself out of her shock, “Don’t! He’s a contract mage, it could be-”

“I do,” the World declared.

“-rigged!”

I got him.

There was a click, the mycelium words glowed and burned themselves to the ground. I briefly felt a connection being made. “Mediation of Mutualism,” I declared. “This contract is now in effect. Sister Glascoin, stand back.”

Slamming my staff into the ground again, I yelled, “Fairy Circle!”

I had already surrounded the entire building with mushrooms.

“Hah! Not enough!” The World slammed his hands together in a loud clap, “See my Path, the way of Hospitality! Be my Honoured Guest!”

Our respective domains slammed out. Mine changing the world and his pushing away all others.

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