Del’vhario members spent the next several days resting and preparing for the day when their grand plans would be set in motion. 

Thanks to Khratzika’s influence, X got along better with the vawykins. The lower caste vawykins inhabiting the ruins held the female chit’tan in high regard, and she devoted most of her time to conversing with them and immersing herself in their everyday lives. Occasionally, the elf would join her in her interactions with the vawykins, discovering in them an uncomplicated existence much like Khratzika’s. The dregs’ minds focused on immediate tasks, devoid of concern for elaborate overarching plans or future endeavors. Instead, less profound matters occupied their fledgling consciousnesses. 

The klikules relished their new homes, leading to an uptick in their reproduction rates. Simultaneously, the production of royal jelly also surged and vawykins began to store it in the wine barrels of the cellar. Through X’s efforts, the stench plaguing most of the ruins was alleviated, confining the vawykions excrement and purple goo to a single room. This accomplishment elevated Del’vhario’s members standing in the eyes of the vawykins. 

It was on one of these wet days that X developed a newfound respect for those parasites. One morning, as Del’vhario members struggled to stave off boredom, the elf rested alone in one of the dry rooms. Suddenly, his senses were jolted by noises in his chamber. Countless little feet scurried across the rocks, bricks and rotting wood. A shadow crept swiftly over walls, too fast for X’s sight, but the creature twisted, its prey within sight. From above, dangling on the celling, it pounced. The redheaded elf redirected his gaze upward and saw a mouth with rows of teeth, layer upon layer, extending all the way to the rear, coming down on him. In a swift intervention, a vwaykin pierced the parasite with his claws and then offered a portion of the meat to X, who declined. Later, the elf learned that the klikules’ birthing season had begun several days prior, and this particular parasite had escaped from its confinement. The klikules, beginning to pop out from their gooey eggs, also heralded the onset of the rainy season.

Beyond the crumbling ruins, a storm had been brewing. Thick, black clouds swept in accompanied by thunder and forceful winds that ravaged the region. Del’vhario members took shelter on the mostly dry second floor as they patiently awaited the rain to subside. 

Two weeks had passed since their arrival at the ruins, and the strong winds and never-ending rain threatened to leave them holed up with the vawykins for much longer. 

“I’m bored to death. Fucking hell,” Mau threw his hands up in the air.

“Will it ever stop raining?” X asked both gnomes.

“Can’t even take two steps outside without getting your knees stuck in mud,” Nila sighed after remembering how they had tried to walk under the rain, but the whole valley had turned into a marsh, making any any progress almost impossible. 

“Look on the bright side, it has given us plenty of time to plan and, most important, to lay low,” X kept his spirits.

“Well, no shit. We’re also forced to live with the vawykins. And don’t get me wrong, they’re simple-minded and decent creatures, and they do keep their word,” Nila’s usual remarks began. “But that doesn't negate this fact: it’s hellishly boring! And some parts of this place still smell like shit. Oh, and I’m not taking another single bite of their puke of a food!”

“Then don’t go where it smells, and we’ve improved our rooms. They are habitable now. And who says no to free food? Come on... That said, I understand you both. So be prepared, at the first sign of the storm subsiding, we put our plans in motion,” X said.

Nila and Mau had seen the redheaded elf’s vision. On one particular day, after taking another bite of the vawykins’ gourmet food, they even tasted it. A vision so profound that they dared to venture out in the storm but were forced back into the ruins.

“What we saw, Ekk’s... seems unbelievable. So fucking much I don’t know if we can accomplish half of it, to be honest,” Nila remarked.

“And me neither, but that won’t stop me from trying. Come on Nila, half the fun is the path there,” X said to her.

“You do know what you’re trying to accomplish and how?” she asked.

“It’s like you just met me yesterday.”

“Yeah! I’m with you all the way! And anyway, what else are we to do? Carve out a vawykin-like existence? Fuck no!” Mau’s excitement seeped through.

“Hey, I’m just testing your resolution, you assholes. Bring it on then!” Nila shouted.

“Glory or death! For the gnome race!”

“Eternal!”

“And Nila,” X’s words quieted them down. The gnomes waited for further details on the matter. “Maybe we don’t have the faintest idea what we’re getting into, but let’s at least act like we know what the hell we’re doing.”

“That’s the gnome spirit we love!”

However, X’s restless spirit couldn’t be contained, much like the gnomes’. He had glimpsed a potential future in those drug-induced visions. He swore that he could touch and smell whatever he saw in those revelations. Unlike anything back home, a new reality unfolded within him. The redheaded elf understood the magnitude of what he held in his hands, in his soul. After mulling numerous ideas over several weeks, he approached Nila and Mau to discuss the feasibility of the elaborate scheme in his criminal mind. Mau replied that, in theory, his plan was possible. Armed with this confirmation, X solidified his resolve to guide Del’vhario’s destiny. 

By the sixteenth day, boredom had taken root in all of them. Despite the persistent onslaught of heavy winds and rain, the members of Del’vhario and Khratzika embarked on a journey to Guerlin, the nearest feralis town, in search of supplies. As they had anticipated, the trip took three times as long due to the treacherous weather and terrain conditions, which offered them a unique experience. Midway through, the storm had abated, but the muddied ground remained a challenge to traverse. Soaked and coated in mud, they finally reached Guerlin.

Guerlin welcomed X to the world of the feralis in all its raucous glory. While he had encountered these furry creatures during his travels, it was in this town—redolent with the scent of wet dog and a mixture of beast waste—that he witnessed a myriad of other feralis races. Many of them nested in homely burrows that, as the elf quickly pointed out, were nothing more than holes in the ground.

With the rain granting them a temporary respite, the town burst into vibrant life as younglings and adult feralis roamed the muddy streets. Aside from burrows, structures were fashioned around trees, designed to accommodate the other types of feralis. Some nested under dense foliage, while others hung from the sturdiest and oldest branches of the trees. 

The feralis had only one concern for the visitors: to sell the newcomers whatever refuse they could. However, the outsiders’ attention was captured by the town’s shaman. Del’vahrio members engaged in an extensive conversation with him, presenting a business venture—a risky endeavor—along with visions of glory and wealth. Eventually, Kratzika and Nila departed from the shaman’s burrow to explore the town, leaving X and Mau to deal with the old feralis shaman. 

“Gargar, what we told you, do you think it’s possible?” X asked.

“I could dooo it in a week,” the old baakin feralis shaman replied.

“The problem being?” the elf inquired.

“I dooon’t trust you, nor your gnooome companions, and that dreeeg... ugh,” the feralis responded.

“Really? A feralis shaman, locked in this hole, not even a well-made one, but a crooked one at that, selling what? First level...” X said.

“As I told you Ekk’s, only first and second level of the most elemental magik possible,” Mau interjected.

“Our hoooles might be crooked but theeey’re solid! Try them out sooometime!” Gargar proudly cried out.

Mau and X laughed at his expense. “What, starting with yours?” Mau smiled.

“You should watch what you say, old feralis, or some beast might take you at your word. But you know what? I don’t think you can do it. I don’t even think you have any idea how to approach our request,” X dared the old feralis before him, using his race’s lack of magik prowess against him.

“It’s baaasic stuff, not for the likes of myyy reputation. Feralis shamanism is especial, reseeerved,” the old feralis retorted.

“You damned feralis. What you so proudly call feralis shamanism is indeed well known throughout the continent. Because it’s shit, unreliable shit. Not even reliable in its shittiness.” Mau faced X. “What feralis call their magik is a semi-working, low-level group of spells, mostly universal in function, with a selected few spells tailored for the feralis themselves. But nothing of renown.”

“You fooool! You want a taste of feraaalis magik?!” The baakin gave them several exasperated glances. But the elf and gnome before him didn’t even frown. “Aren’t yooou two late or something? You’ve haaassled me long enough!”

“Oh, come on Gargar, old crooked baakin, you know us gnomes, we can’t get a no for an answer,” Mau smiled.

Gargar deeply exhaled. “Alright! I’ll teeell you what we can do... and you’d beeetter leave after. I’ve got a lot of wooork to do.”

“You’re going back to that bottle of arreci I saw back in your workshop? Nice smell, but a little on the strong side. Do you really work on your scrolls wasted the fuck out?” Mau kept teasing the baakin.

“Of cooourse not! That’s.... a .... an ingredient! A maaajor one for the scrolls’ final closure,” Gargar exclaimed.

“Sure it is,” Mau didn’t press the issue.

“Anyway, you were saying, a solution to our problem. And we’ll leave you to yourself.” X went back to business.

They spent two days in the town. During this time X found himself exposed to peculiar lodgings and unfamiliar cuisine, though little could surprise him anymore. After wrapping up their affairs in Guerlin, they hastily returned to their ruins. The skies once again opened up, unleashing torrents of rain accompanied by fierce winds whipping through the region. But Del’vhario didn’t return alone, they came back with an additional member—a wild feralis sorcerer apprentice.

Gargar’s solution was none other than gifting them one of his most ‘dear and skilled apprentices’—a self-proclaimed feralis sorcerer. A disturbed individual, whose dreams reached beyond becoming a mere shaman, he aimed to ascend to the rank of a full-fledged sorcerer. As with many other races, magik did not come easily to the feralis. Few managed to rise to bona fide shamans, and when compared to human witches or elven magik, it was akin to compare a dog bite with a shark bite. Both caused damage, but certainly on vastly different scales. This young and wild feralis’ mentor had grown weary of his apprentice’s ceaseless, nonsensical chatter, thus, he eagerly offloaded him into Del’vhario’s care.

“Whoa! You live in these ruins? Damn it, I can feel this ancient structure’s power coursing through my sorcerer veins already, caw-caw!” The young feralis sorcerer, baptized as Sikue by Del’vhario, spun around. “Was this an elven heretic’s wizarding palace? Or a human witchlord’s resting place, caw-caw? No, no, wait, I’ve got it! A most powerful...” The young feralis noticed the vwaykins inside, scurrying about. Some carried the purple jelly. “Dregs! What foul concoctions have you brewed! Caw! Oh, these poor beings. Are all these your grand experiments?”

“You sure he’s okay? Up where it counts?” Nila asked the redheaded elf.

“At least he is cheap,” X replied.

“And we can understand him. That’s important. Gargar told us this young cawinak feralis was born in a human household and speaks, well, like a human,” Mau added.

After a brief introduction to the vawykins, they ushered the feralis sorcerer into the room that Mau had transformed into his workshop. The gnome had discovered this semi-dried storage room of some sorts on the left flank of the ruins. Space within the ancient structure was hard to come by, and while the gnome wasn’t thrilled to share his workspace, the feralis displayed an overwhelming delight. Once the trio had shoved the feralis inside, they allowed his mind to tinker with their special request.

The stormed raged on for another week, providing X with an opportunity to delve deeper into the realm of alchemy under Mau’s guidance. The elf combined dusts filled flasks and casings with an array of mixed compounds, then tested them outside the ruins. X learned about the necessary ingredients—whether from plants, beasts or minerals. The elf also grasped the importance of catalysts, which were an essential component for achieving successful and enhanced reactions.

The elf also conversed with the young feralis sorcerer, who found his new abode fascinating and the dregs around him ready for experimentation. Sikue swiftly settled into the room that had been transformed into a workshop, where Mau had claimed a table for his dust-mixing endeavors. On the opposite side, another table had been set up to serve as the sorcerer’s workspace. Here, the feralis developed spells, immersed himself in his books, researched Del’vhario’s request, and diligently produced the scrolls that X had assigned him to create. In exchange for his labor, Del’vhario ensured Sikue had a place to rest, a steady supply of food, and the necessary ingredients to tinker with.

“What did you call it, Mau?” The elf asked.

“Magikal-powdering,” the male gnome replied.

“That exists? You didn’t make up that tittle?”

“It does. And while Nila and I are Explunners, I’m the one that dabbles with the dusts. She can too, but prefers not too, if she can help it.”

“Huh.” All these titles and terms the creatures around him kept spouting meant nothing to the elf, though he tried to commit the ones he found useful to memory—like the spell triggers, all in elven, a powerful language for magik as the gnomes pointed him out.

The elf walked to the other side of the magikal workshop.

“Have you finished that one?” X signaled to a piece of parchment.

“Yes indeed! My most recent masterful creation! A firebolt spell! Caw-caw,” Sikue answered.

“Whoa, great! Fire.” X’s eyes shone. A malicious smile colored his face as well as his thoughts.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Mau interjected. “That’s the basic form of fire magik.”

“Just you wait, Mau! Caw-caw. You’ll see my powers ascending before your eyes!” the feralis scoffed at the gnome’s comments.

“Then you’d better do it quickly before we’re out in the open and really need your shit to work,” Mau shot back.

X studied the parchment. “Well, Sikue, for me, this is better than nothing,” he remarked with a smile, holding the warm piece of paper in his hands. The elf also interrogated the feralis, bombarding him with a barrage of questions. They dissected each theory, blending ideas with fantasies. Each spurred the other on, weaving dreams in the air, crafting bigger and grander castles with each word.

At long last, after twenty-five days, the rain ceased its relentless downpour. The skies cleared, but the mud took an extra couple of days to dry out enough to enable extended walks. As the storm subsided outside, an inner tempest began raging within the Del’vhario members who finally stepped out of containment. Their minds fixated on one singular goal, a specific outcome. Khratzika remained behind, standing sentinel with the vawykins and the sorcerer; all parts of a grander whole. The chit’tan would oversee Delvhario’s section of the ruins and deal with their inhabitants.

The crazy creatures, brought together by an unexpected twist of fate, converged around a bonfire of violence and excitement. Their demented minds grinding too closely to each other not to create sparks. A new chapter was unfolding. After discovering a suitable location to serve as their temporary lair and convincing the inhabitants to share their space and amenities, the Del’vhario members were ready. 

Inside them, a thunderous rumble rose—an expanding darkness that they were compelled to share with others, with the world at large. They would not cower. They would sneak, steal, lie, kill, and party like they had never done before in their lives. 

Del’vhario was ready to be set free upon this unsuspecting world. Their time had come.