Adv Log, Session 30: The Breathstealer, Part 1

General Summary

Kynetsday, Harvest 33, 879 AFE


The Commendation Ceremony was happening on Starsday, Harvest 37, at the twelfth bell. It was a sunset ceremony, followed by a gala. Being an area with a large Orc population, many important events were scheduled at the time when both diurnal and nocturnal species would be comfortable.


Orcs, especially, had issues with the sun. They were extremely photosensitive, and suffered pain, discomfort, and weakness while in the direct sunlight. Orcs going out during the day wore lightweight robes and hats to keep the sun off of them. Dark glasses protected their sensitive eyes from the glare. Their infrared vision was susceptible to glare-blindness during the day, since most objects radiated in the infrared when exposed to visible light.


But the ceremony was still several days away.


Taid shook the last things out of his backpack onto his bed. It had been a long time since he had really gone through all of his things and packed them properly, and his old military habits couldn’t be ignored any longer. He surveyed the mess on his bed. An old, beat up purse lay next to a bag of venison jerky pieces and a small, waxed cheese.


Opening the purse, he saw some old, antique Dwarven coins that he had picked up when he and his companions had freed all those slaves from the cult that was sacrificing them to the servitor of Ghebbiloth. They were about a thousand years old, and he figured they had to be worth something to a collector.


He didn’t know any collectors of ancient coins. But he knew someone who might know someone….


“Hey, Eykit!” he called. “I have need of your street smarts!"


Ruby had been traveling for quite some time, and was running low on funds. She went into town to visit a bank; she could get access to her money there. Banks were run mostly by families, or clans. They had to; it was the only way to trust other branches in far away cities. That way, everyone knew everyone else’s signatures and handwriting, so when a message came in saying that so-and-so is due 100 marks, the branch office could give so-and-so that much money, on credit, trusting that funds to replace it would be on the way.


Ruby had money back in Adayn, but there was a branch of the bank she used in all of the major cities of the Empire. So she visited the branch of the Corbinian Bank that occupied a building in Port Karn’s Old Town district. There, she was able to get some funds, because she had an account in their bank. Effectively, she got it on credit.


She hated having to spend money, but she had living expenses that needed to be paid.


Almë, now that he knew that the Manor was his (at least, in part), could actually grow some things. And he had the spell power to grow them quickly, possibly quickly enough to sell them in a day or two. But first, he needed to know what crop would be worth it. And he needed seeds. So it was time to make a visit to some local markets.

He brought Eykit and Ruby with him; he figured the two of them should be able to figure out how the market was doing and which crop would be best to jump start his financial awakening.


According to the prices at the three different markets they visited, it looked like honey melons were the most cost effective and profitable. Almë bought honey melon seeds. He was planning on using the spell of Plant Growth on them to bring them to harvest faster. As in he wanted to grow them all up in a single day. The spell was actually faster than that. It compressed a month’s growing time into a minute, and honey melons had a one hundred and twenty day natural growing cycle.


Then it was back to the Manor, and into a field. He used the field directly north of the manor house. He knew that the ground there was essential earth, at least in part. He used the spell of Withering to get rid of the very robust weeds, then the spell of Earth Shaping to “till” them into the ground as fertilizer. The spell that had withered them had also killed off their seeds, so he wasn’t just spreading weeds about.


Almë had several sources of mana to tap. One was himself, which was the most efficient, when he couldn’t use ambient mana from the environment. The second was his wife’s staff, which had been enchanted with the Staff of Power spell. It allowed him to “fill” it with mana, and have it act like a reservoir he could use to refill his lost energy. The third was his small collection of powerstones. Each source of magic had its advantages an disadvantages.


His own power and that of the powerstones could be used to power spell casting at the time the spell was actually cast. The mana in his wife’s staff couldn’t, but it could be used to refill his own reserves. And, technically, he could use it to run marathons, if he wished, by tapping its power when he felt tired. He was reluctant to use his powerstones because they only recharged their power a little bit each day. It would be eightdays before he’d be able to use them again if he tapped them out.


So he used his own power to get rid of the weeds, in a much larger area than he planned on planting with melons. No need to have nearby weeds taking the nutrients from the soil.


He planted the seeds in an area that he was comfortable with when it came to casting the spell of Plant Growth. It was an expensive spell in terms of mana, so he was limited in how large an area he could cover, which turned out to be about a meter across. It wasn’t very large at all, and he had room for maybe three seeds.


The spell’s power settled on the area of the seeds. A moment later, three green shoots sprouted up, grew into vines, splitting and sprouting leaves, and spread into the surrounding area. Blossoms popped open, and Almë hurried to pollinate the blossoms before the spell caused them to wither and die. Unfertilized flowers wouldn’t turn into fruit, and his spell didn’t allow time for the insects to do their jobs.


Magic often made things easier. But it could just as easily make things more difficult. It had consequences. As an example, mages long ago learned how to turn earth into stone…and metal. As a result, mines went out of business; there was no way mine could dig ore out of the ground and smelt it into a purified metal faster or more easily than could a mage with a few seconds of time on his hands. That was the reason that almost all metals were dirt cheap, even silver and gold. Complicated alloys weren’t possible with the spell, nor were metals with exotic properties, like mithril, that only existed due to the existence of mana.


Almë managed to pollinate nine of the blossoms before they withered away and dropped off the plant. But those nine swelled into round, orangish melons of incredible size. Whereas the normal size of the fruit was about the diameter of a small cantaloupe, these were bigger than the size of Almë’s head.

Taid was willing to help him harvest the melons; he was still on something of a high from getting good prices on his coins. But there was no way to really carry the large, ungainly melons easily. They needed a cart, or at least a wheelbarrow.


The Manor didn’t have a cart; it had likely been sold off by Herbert to pay for something he thought was more important, like alchemical reagents or ritual materials. In a small shed on the side of the carriage house they found an old wooden wheel barrow. Taid brought it to the field where Almë sat, resting after his latest spell casting effort.

The wheelbarrow could fit the melons, in a precarious pile. At least they had a nice, cool root cellar to put them in. Almë pushed the wheelbarrow with the stack of round melons. He hit a dirt clod, and the wheelbarrow tipped, the amber spheroids beginning to topple. He jumped to get a stabilizing hand on the unsteady pile, preventing the melons from toppling.


But he made it to the courtyard and the front door of the manor house. From there, they went into the root cellar, one by one.


Jyprasday, Harvest 34, 879 AFE


Almë wanted a cart. He asked Taid, who was going into town, to buy him one.


“My money is so easy for you to use up, isn’t it?” Taid complained.


Almë shrugged; he figured that he could pay Taid back with the money he made from the melon harvest.


It had taken some time for Eykit to locate a potential market for Taid’s coins. He had talked to his primary fence, Dexon Lomas, who thought he might know someone. But, as it turned out, it was Eykit, following up on something that a fellow Skull had said, that found the buyer. Eykit still had Dexon make the introductions and make the initial contact. It helped with legitimacy, and Eykit wanted to make sure Dexon felt important and useful.


It was a relationship that Eykit wanted to keep cultivating. He hadn’t been doing much thieving lately, so he hadn’t needed the services of a fence. Besides, he missed Dexon. Get a couple of drinks in him, and he became positively lively and entertaining.


To accommodate Almë’s cart request, Taid and Eykit took Wilbur with them. Besides, Wilbur needed the exercise. They did that first.


There was a wainwright’s shop in the Southtown district, not too far from the Manor. Chrysanthe and Valtona’s Wagons and Carts was a converted warehouse on the corner of Third Street and Sarkis Lane. It was a building three stories tall, a simple pole barn with plank walls and roof. The large barn doors were open, and movement could be seen inside. Next to the building was a fenced in section with several carts and wagons parked there, all of them covered in tarps.


Entering the building, they saw that most of the space was a work floor. Two wagons were in the process of being constructed, and they were both the center of activity as several workers built each one. On one side of the space were racks and bins of materials and subassemblies. On the other was a small office. Through the open windows that overlooked the shop floor they could see two women sitting at desks. One was a Hobbit, the other a Human. The Human woman noticed them, stood, and came out of the office.


She was short, for a Human, barely above a meter and a half, dark complected, with dark hair she had dyed with some reddish streaks. She was pretty, and wore simple clothes that were well-made and cared for. She walked up to them with a smile.


“Hello, good sirs!” she greeted. “I’m Valtona. I handle sales. Are you here to purchase one of our fine wagons?”


After acknowledging that yes, they were here for a wagon, Valtona asked some questions about exactly what type of jobs they needed the wagon for, how many horses would be pulling it, weight requirements, and other things that were pertinent for their purchasing decision.


Afterward, now knowing that they were looking for a simple farmer’s cart, pulled by a single horse, that could haul agricultural products, she led them to the lot where their completed wagons were kept. She pulled the tarps off of several. Most were single axle, a simple box with a drop gate in the back, and a padded bench for the teamster to sit on. But she also showed them a two axle wagon, in an attempt to upsell them on that one. Eykit cut her short, saying, “It’s lovely, and it would satisfy our needs, but we have a very tight budget and couldn’t afford such a high quality wagon.”


Eykit wasn’t versed in wagons and carts; he wouldn’t know a good one if he saw it. He just had the common sense that just about everyone did and had at least a small inkling of carpentry quality. The wagons here seemed to be well-made, and they didn’t seem to be slapdash. The paint jobs showed clean lines, and the stitching on the seat padding was even and straight.


They picked out a single axle cart with a lightweight bamboo hoop frame that supported a canvas cover that could be removed when not required. The canvas was sewn with channels that the hoops could be passed through before being mounted in sockets in the cart’s sides. The front arched over the driver’s bench, providing shade for both the teamster and whatever was in the cart itself. The cart was painted green, with golden yellow trim and golden yellow wheels; the canvas was a paler green with golden stitching.

The cart floor was about a half meter above the ground; the cart sides were almost another three quarters of a meter taller than that. With the hoops and cover mounted, it was almost three meters tall.


Eykit even managed to get a good deal, as he usually did. The difference Taid pocketed as his purchasing fee which he split with Eykit. They hitched Wilbur to it, and brought it back to the Manor.


According to the directions given to them by Dexon, the potential coin buyer lived about eight blocks away from Eykit’s guild’s territory, in the Middlemarket district, in the territory operated by a thieves’ guild called “The Combined”. Eykit wasn’t terribly happy about that; Guildmaster Ghent wasn’t a fan of The Combined guildmaster. Eykit wasn’t certain why, but he trusted Ghent, and knew that there was a good reason for the antagonism. He’d have to make sure he and Taid were on their best behavior, and avoid any run-ins with Combined street soldiers.


The directions led them to a bakery specializing in pastries. A sign over the door said “Balgram’s Bakery” above a painted cake and pie. As soon as they opened the door they were hit by the smell of freshly baked goods, honey, and sugar. And a hint of fruits. A multi-tiered pastry case ran almost the full width of the shop, loaded with stacks of delicious-looking cakes, cookies, pies, and other delectables. Eykit’s eye alighted on a honeyed bacon fritter, and his mouth started watering.


A pale-skinned Dwarf in an apron and a hat stood behind the pastry case. He had been working on the decorations on a cake, but looked up when the bell on the door rang.

Balgram the baker


“Hello!” he said jovially. “Good day! Can I interest you in some pie?”


Taid got right to the point. “We’ve got 38 ancient Dwarven coins, no longer in circulation.”


The baker perked up. “Really? May I see them?”


“How much do you think these are worth?”


Balgram took the offered coin, examining both sides and the edges. They were in very good condition, and would make nice additions to his collection. He handed it back to Taid.


“I’ll give you three hundred for them.”


“Three hundred?”


“Yep.”


“But they are worth 418 marks!”


“That may be, but I’m only willing to buy them for 300.”


“Good sir,” Eykit slid into the conversation smoothly, “these coins were found in an ancient Orcish ruin that hadn’t been disturbed in a thousand years. Notice the detail, these haven’t spent centuries being handled.”


Balgram grunted, and peered at the coins again. He had to admit the Goblin was right. The images on the coins were indeed well defined. “Fine. I can afford 350 marks, but that’s as high as I can go.”


“Sweet! I’ll take it,” Taid said. “I also have some very rare Araterre royal gold coins, worth quite a bit to a collector.” Araterre was the name of the country that birthed Gishi Tondene, and had later became the Tondene Empire after it started conquering its neighbors. Taid held one up in two fingers, the sunlight coming through the window glinting off its bright gold edge.


Balgram’s eyes twinkled, then turned to disappointment as he realized he had just spent all of his cash on the Dwarven coins. “Yeah,” he said rather dejectedly, “those are really nice but I can’t afford any of them now.”


“What do think they are worth?”


The coin collector thought about it for a moment, then said, “Um, you could probably get a hundred marks apiece.”


“Nice. Do you know anyone who might want these? That you could get them from later?”


Balgram laughed. “As a matter of fact, I do know a guy. He’s up in the Old Town section. But we’ve traded information before about different coins. Tell him I sent you and he’ll probably talk to you.”


“Do you think he’ll give me the same price?”


The baker shrugged, and offered a smile. “I honestly don’t know what he’ll give you.”


“Okay.”


“He might give you more. He’s a historian, so it’ll be worth a lot more than just money. You never know.”


“Awesome, thank you very much!”


“You are very welcome. Hey, take this.” He held out a peach pie. “On the house.”


“Thank you.”


They moved through the crowded, narrow streets of Middlemarket until they reached Second Street, then took that northwards to the ancient wall and gate. A pair of bored gate guards stood idly by, their attention barely on the traffic moving in and out through the chokepoint. Eykit barely had to use Taid as a body shield to get through unnoticed.


Gate duty was the most boring of the jobs that the City Guard had to do. Paperwork was better. Gate duty involved standing the hot sun all day, making sure that all of the people were orderly and not suspicious. Half the time the gate guards slept on their feet. It was a position due more to nostalgia than actual need.


They followed Second Street a bit further, getting into the Old Town district and its warren of twisty streets and alleyways. On one of those twisty streets, not too far from Walters Manor near the center of the walled section of Port Karn, was a house. Stairs led up to a porch; the house was a three story structure, including the basement, which had windows at ground level. The roof was steeply pitched, and a little crooked and sagging.


Taid and Eykit walked up the stairs, and knocked on the sturdy wooden door.


“Who is it?” came a voice from inside.


“My name is Taid. My good buddy Balgram the Baker send us over because we have some coins he said that you would definitely be interested in.”


An older man, with a greying beard but surprisingly brown hair, cracked open the door, smoking a pipe. Sweet-smelling smoke wafted from it, mixing with the less-pleasant scents of a crowded city. “Really?” he asked. He looked the two of them up and down. He grunted. “Alright. What have you got? Show me.”


Taid reached into a pocket, and held up the Araterre Royal up, poised between his fingers. The sunlight glinted gold off of it. The man fully opened the door.


“Come in!” he said excitedly. The door opened on a front room, with a couch, coffee table, and some chairs. “Have a seat,” he said, indicated the couch.


Taid and Eykit sat, and Taid stated, “I’d like to sell these. I’ve been carrying them around for a bit, and would like to get them into the hands of someone who would appreciate them.”


“Okay,” the man said. He puffed on his pipe, blew the smoke off to the side. He stood up, walked over to a side table, and opened a drawer. He pulled out a jeweler’s loupe. “I’m Amaro Erramund. And you are…?”


“As I said, I’m Taid. This is my friend Eykit.”


Amaro came back over to where Taid and Eykit were seated. “May I?” he asked, holding out his hand.


“Yes,” Taid replied, handing the coin over.


Amaro looked at it through the loupe. He flipped the coin over, and checked the rim, all the way around. He looked back to Taid. “This is in really good shape. Very impressive.”

“I have seventeen of them,” Taid said.


That got the historian’s attention. “Seventeen, you say?”


“Mmhmmm.”


“Wow. Wow. Seventeen. In addition to this one, or is that seventeen total?” He thought about the coins. “I’ll give you fourteen hundred marks for the lot.”


Eykit filled in some details about the provenance of the coins, and where they were found. He also emphasized their rarity. He managed to bargain the price up to 1615 marks. And Taid still had one of coins left. He also later gave Eykit 200 marks, as a thank you gift for his trading skills.


They took their leave, and went back to the baker, Balgram. “Hello again,” Taid said as they walked in. “I wanted to give you this.” He handed the eighteenth Araterre Royal to the baker.


Balgram took it reverently in flour-dusted hands, too stunned and surprised to speak for a moment. “Thank you! Thank you very much!” He looked around. “Want a dozen cookies?”


“Ah, no,” Taid replied. “The pie is good enough. If we’re back through the area we’ll stop in.”


Balgram nodded. Taid had gotten some goodwill with a Dwarven baker.




It was still a few days from the Commendation Ceremony, and although Elitheris had no wish to be elevated or have ownership in the Manor, she was happy for her friends and wanted to be there to witness the occasion. In the meantime, however, she had some time to start working on her bow.


She gathered the materials she had collected, and loaded them up on Wilbur, once he had come back from his cart purchasing adventure. There was no way she could have carried all of it herself; while it wasn’t heavy, it was oddly shaped and awkward. She had even talked to Ekain about some glues and varnishes, which he assured her he could have ready in a day or two for a nominal price.


She wouldn’t need either for a little while, anyway. It was the beginning of the construction process, and her first steps would be designing the bow and picking materials for specific parts of it from her collection of woods, horn, bone, sinew, feathers, and, hopefully, other precious materials. A few basic techniques occurred to her as she made her way into the city: carving, of course, but also inlay, paints, stains, and gilding, in addition to the feathers she planned as decoration on the tips. Or maybe, she thought, as an appliqué on the main body of the bow? Perhaps like colorful scales? She’d have to see where her imagination took her.


It didn’t take too terribly long to get to Ander’s workshop, although it did feel that way as she made her slow way through the crowded streets pulling Wilbur along. “Woodcrafters’ Row” was a nickname for the section of Urukhem Street between Drakthar Way and Fourth Street. The Carpenter’s Guild had arisen in that area of Merchant’s Heath, like many of the old crafting guilds. One street over was what amounted to “Smiths’ Row”, and two streets over in the opposite direction was “Potters’ Street”.


The older walled part of Port Karn were where most of the crafters had their shops, simply due to history. As the city grew, more shops appeared in the different neighborhoods, supporting those customers. The original areas were too far away from the later parts of the city to fully support them. Of course, one advantage the crafters in the old districts had were that they had ready access to the wharfs and the shipping hub they represented.


Elitheris walked Wilbur to Ander’s workshop. He was in there, working on a bow, as he usually was. It was a different bow than the one he’d worked on the last time she was there; most people unfamiliar with archery wouldn’t have immediately known, but she was quite knowledgable on the subject and could tell that the bow he worked on was a hunting bow, rather than a war bow. The Hobbit and Orc apprentices were there too; Meria was busy gluing and clamping a composite bow together, while Kargath was busy shaving down branches, using the arrow shaft jig to make them straight and properly balanced.


“Hello,” she said, as she lead the laden horse.


“Hi,” Ander said. “Let me introduce you to my apprentices, Meria Swiftfeet, and Kargath Cromûsh. Meria is working on her journeyman project.”


Meria finished tightening a clamp, then looked up at the newcomer and nodded. “Greetings,” she said, in her clear soprano voice. She was short, and used a step stool to reach the workbench. She was round of face, and curvy of body, and a mop of curly reddish hair framed her pretty face.


Elitheris noted that with a voice like hers, she could have been a singer. Glancing down at the partially completed bow, she noted that it was decent work.


Ander introduced the Orc. “And this is Kargath. He’s only been apprenticed for a year or so.”


Kargath was short, for an Orc, standing only 175 cm tall. He was also rather slender, although she could see the muscles in his arms like steel springs. He was likely stronger than he looked at first glance. Most Orcs had bulky muscles, this one didn’t. He was young, and clean shaven, with prominent tusks that gave him a slight lisp.


“Hey. I’ll catch up to Meria soon enough,” he said, grinning. “She’s only got three years on me.” He pulled the draw knife down the arrow shaft, then rotated the arrow in the v-groove of the jig, and shaved another thin layer off of it.


Ander steered her over to one side, where a series of lockable cabinets stood. “This is where you can store your materials.” He pulled out a key, and opened the cabinet. “I’ve cleared it out for you.” It was split down the middle, one side being a narrow but tall place for bow stave wood, the other a series of narrow shelves, almost like cubbies. He handed the key to Elitheris.


Then it was back to the main section of the shop, where he went over all of the tools, where they were stored when not in use, and the basics of wood shop safety and cleanliness. “Although I suspect you are already aware of most of that, I wanted to be explicit. No need for ambiguity.”


Elitheris nodded. Indeed, she’d known about most of that, but Ander was also a stickler for keeping any tool not in use racked and out of the way. She made herself a note to not have anything just lying around. Besides, the shop wasn’t that big, and any tool she needed would be within three paces anyway.


“Thank you,” she said. “Do I call you Ander, or Mr. Osgar?”


“Well, my apprentices call me ‘Master’, but you aren’t an apprentice, so either will do.”


“Okay, Mr. Osgar.” She glanced at Wilbur, tied up just outside the entrance, still loaded with supplies. “I’ll unload my horse and get to work.”


Ander nodded, and went back to the bow he was crafting.


Almë spent the day growing melons, quickly. He’d plant a few seeds, then speed-grow them into maturity, scrambling to pollinate them before the blossoms died and fell off. Then it was just gather the melons, put them in the cart, and repeat the process. With all of the time he had to spend resting between the batches, he managed to go through five full cycles.


He harvested 49 melons. He moved them to the root cellar. It was getting quite crowded down there. He kept the area around the stairs clear. The lighting, provided by a single oil lantern, was good enough for navigating down there, but it wasn’t great. Unlike the Elves, Goblins, and Dwarves, Ekain the Human couldn’t see well in the dark. And they didn’t need their alchemist falling over a bunch of monstrous honey melons.




Zorion Clemens wasn’t in town, and he likely wouldn’t be for at least several days. So her quarry was currently unavailable.


Ruby wandered through the house, cataloguing the repairs necessary. She’d known that Taid had done something similar, and had gotten price quotes on the various issues, but she felt it was good for her to see for herself.


Then she went out to see what the gardener mage was doing. He was growing melons. From seed to harvest in only a few minutes. She thought about helping him load the ripe melons into the cart, but refrained. One, it was peasant work, and two, if she did help, the melons were almost as large as she was, and she had a hard time reaching the cart anyway. She’d be bench pressing melons all day, and that sounded awful.


However, her status might be able to open a few more markets up for them, like the houses of nobles or high end restaurants. The higher status areas would be more amenable to listening to her than any of the others; all of the others probably would just be turned away at the servants’ entrance and not even get to speak to anyone with purchasing power.



She figured that it was time to make contact with a local Central contact. She had been given access to a list of operatives in various cities, in case she needed backup, or access to funds, or equipment. There was no guarantee she would be able to get those things, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and the first step would be getting in contact with—she tried to remember who it was here in Port Karn—ah yes, Roland Florian. It wasn’t his real name, most likely, but an alias he used in town.


She even had an address for him: a house on a narrow street called Lavender Lane. She wasn’t sure which house was his, but she could ask the neighbors and find that out easily enough. She rode Norrie into town, people scrambling away from the huge canine even more so than they did around horses. Horses were technically more dangerous, with their bulk, strength, and hooves, but the big dog looked a lot scarier.


Lavender Lane was easy enough to find; a few questions of passersby, and she had the information. Once on Lavender Lane, she was able to find which house was his by having to ask only three people on the street. “It’s that one,” a Human child of nine summers said, “the one with the cracked chimney.”


Then he and his companion, an Orcish girl in a big hat and white cape, ran off to finish their game with a ball. Neither had been scared of Norolind, and had wanted to pet him. She’d let them, of course, it had served to bring them near enough to talk quietly to them about Roland.


Roland’s house was the one the kid had mentioned. And it did have a cracked chimney; in fact, it looked like a giant had split it with an axe. She hoped he didn’t use it until he got it repaired. She dismounted, sliding down Norrie’s side to the irregular paver walkway that led in an arc across a small lawn to his front door. The lawn was weedy, and looked like it hadn’t been tended in weeks. It was thick with dandelions, both the blooms and the puffs of seeds.


She knocked on his door and waited, but there was no answer.


Velisday, Harvest 35, 879 AFE


Elitheris woke early on Velisday, eager to go back to the workshop and do some more work on her bow. She had spent the time the previous day sketching designs, but had gotten hung up on some of the details. After a good night’s sleep, however, she felt she had some better solutions to the issues that had cropped up the day before, and she was excited to get back at it. Her goal for the day was to finalize the designs, and start combing through her materials to pick out the best ones for the job.


As promised, Ekain had a two pots of glue, one specialized for wood, the other for bonding sinew. He’d have a third, more general glue ready the next day. He had some varnishes and stains at his shop in town that she could use if she wanted. He had told her he’d like to whip up some specialized ones, but to do that, he would need to see the bow and how it was constructed to do that.


“That’s fine, I won’t need those for a while,” Elitheris told him. “Would knowing the specific materials I’m using help?”


“By all means, yes!” was his answer.


“Then I should be able to give you a list tomorrow, when I am done with the design.”


Ekain nodded, and went back into the lab.


Elitheris got to the workshop early, before the sun had even crept up more than a solar diameter. The city was still in shadow, the Citadel’s bulk blocking the sunlight. She was there first, and had to wait until Ander showed up half an hour later.


“Morning,” he said, yawning as he unlocked the doors. He pushed them aside, opening up the shop space.


“Good morning,” Elitheris answered.


She got to work.


Ruby decided to go back to Roland’s house. Maybe he would be there today. It could be useful to make contact with him, to at least let him know she existed, and might someday ask for assistance. But again, he didn’t seem to be home.


She looked into the windows; the place was small, with a single bedroom, small privy, and the great room which encompassed the kitchen, dining area, and main living space. In one corner she could see a spinning wheel, with some wads of material on the spindles. She couldn’t tell what the yarn he was spinning was made of in the dimness. But the place looked lived in, and there was a plate on the counter. So he must not be on an extended trip.


She shrugged; it wasn’t urgent that she see him; it was mostly a courtesy. She’d visit some other time and introduce herself.


She had other things to do in town besides get in contact with Roland anyway. She headed to the better parts of town, looking for high-end restaurants. She found a few, and had some preliminary conversations with the owners or chefs, testing to see how amenable they were to having a new food supplier. She had mixed results; some were open to the idea, others had contracts with trading factors who sourced their foodstuffs.

Then she headed to the Citadel. That was her primary goal: get a contract to supply agricultural products to the the Citadel. She thought about approaching the Archduchess, but that would have been premature, and a bad idea. She’d met Baroness Walters a few days ago; Ruby had a much better chance of getting to talk to a chef or supply purchaser for her. Her goal was to be a preferred food vendor.


She was stopped at the gate, of course, and they took her staff, and tied Norolind up under a tree near the stables. He was, like her staff, considered a weapon, and confiscated. She’d get them back. Since her name had been in the ledger a few days before, they let her in, despite not having an appointment.


The gate guards sent a runner to ask the commissary cook if he minded talking to a visitor. The runner came back with the answer that he’d see Ruby.


As before, she was escorted to the administrative buildings, one of which was a kitchen and eating area. She was met in the dining hall by a Hobbit man who introduced himself as Adelard Gammidge. He was pudgy, with an ample belly, but had an honest face framed by blonde curly hair. “And why did you want to meet with me?”


“I represent a coalition of agricultural producers that would like to have the opportunity to establish a mutually beneficial relationship with you. We can provide vegetables of outstanding quality. And we’d like to give you the first chance to purchase them. Preferably, we’d like to see you purchase all of them. We have good land, with excellent yields, have a dedicated plant mage, and we have the flexibility to offer special requests. That could be useful for celebrations, holidays with traditional foods, or if the Archduchess or Baroness wanted something special for dinner.”


“Well, we’ll need to see the produce before we agree to buy anything.”


“Sure. Is there anything specific you wanted to see? Right now we have big juicy honey melons.”


“Well, I would like to see those. Then we can decide whether we want to purchase them or not. As for the rest of what you would like, we’re going to have to see the quality of your produce before we decide anything.”


“Is there a chance we can set up a long term purchasing agreement? The quality will always be really good, because we only make good things. The land we have is really good. And we have a dedicated plant mage working the land, and a lot of dedicated, passionate people.”




“Like I said, bring in your produce, and we’ll take a look and go from there.”


“But there is a chance we can make this a regular shipment?”


“Yes, that’s entirely possible. I just can’t promise anything because we haven’t seen the produce yet.” He shrugged, and gave her a tentative smile.


“Okay. Should we make an appointment or something? Or can we come in at any time?”


“Um, an appointment would be better.”


“We can come in tomorrow, in the morning.”


“That will work. I’ll let the guards know. Someone will be expecting you.”




Taid drove the cart. Almë walked, and Ruby rode Norolind. Eykit sat on the bench next to Taid. They took the cart, filled with the melons, all the way through the crowded streets to the Citadel gates. It took them a lot longer than they would have liked, because it was daytime, and the streets were filled with people who didn’t care that they drove a cart or had a horse. Thus, their progress was a slow starting and stopping as they crept northward towards their destination.


They were stopped at the gate, as per standard protocol. The guards looked into the cart, seeing the pile of oversized honey melons. “What’s all this, then?” one asked.


“Big juicy honey melons!”


“Yeah, we can see that. But what are they here for?”


“I have an appointment. I’m Ruby Smallburrow, and I’m here to meet Adelard Gammige.”


“One moment.” He turned to the second guard, and spoke a few words. The second guard went inside the guard tower, and a moment later a young page bolted from the tower, running towards the administration buildings at full speed.


The second guard walked back out, taking his position again at the gate. “Little Andre went to go get Gammige.”


A few minutes later, Andre came running back, and told the second guard something. Then he leaned against the cool, shadowed wall of the gate.


The second guard said, “Gammige is on his way.” He glanced into the courtyard behind him, seeing a small figure in the distance, walking towards the gate complex. “Be here in a few minutes, looks like.”


“Thanks,” Ruby said to him.


Adelard Gammige walked into the barbican, where the cart had been stopped by the guards. He wiped the sweat from his brow. “Hot day today,” he said to no one in particular. “Ah, hello!” he said, when he saw Ruby. Then he saw her dog, as he came around the cart. He was almost as large as the cart itself.


“Gods! What is that?” he asked. “Some kind of nightwolf bull dog crossbreed?”


“No,” Ruby said, with a laugh. “Just my dog.”


By now, the cook had noticed that Norolind was a pretty chill dog, who sniffed at him, then moved on to something more interesting. “He’s huge. Feeding him must be like feeding a Hobbit family with a dozen kids!”


Ruby laughed again. He wasn’t wrong, and was only exaggerating a little.


“Okay, let’s check out some of these melons!”


“You mean the big juicy honey melons?”


Adelard went to the back of the wagon, chose a melon, then took out a big knife and cut into it. He made a few slices, then took a bite. His face screwed up, as if he ate something both sour and bitter at the same time. He spat it on the ground. “Aaaghh! What the?” His eyes were watering; there was something seriously wrong with this melon. “Are you trying to poison me?”


Almë was devastated. “Try a different one! Eykit! Try a second one!”


Eykit backed away from the cart. “I’m not trying it! You try it!”


The two guards became extremely alert, just in case they didn’t fully understand the cook’s tone of voice.


“You can all go now,” he said, spitting again, trying to get the nasty taste out of his mouth. “Get this filth out of here! This would contaminate everything in the area! Get it out of here now!”



“Ask him if he’ll try one more!” Almë pleaded of Eykit.


Adelard turned, shaking his head, and walked away.


The guards just shook their heads as well. One had a smirk on his face, as if the whole incident was funny.


Almë couldn’t believe it. The whole morning just collapsed around his ears. What happened to my melons? he thought. He took one of the slices. It looked fine. He took a bite. The Hobbit cook wasn’t joking, nor was it a prank. No, the melon was gross. Mealy of texture, watery yet acidic, with a bitter aftertaste that lingered unfortunately longer than anyone would like. He made himself chew, and swallow. For pride’s sake.


Mr. Wiggles sniffed at the spat out piece, turned his back, and kicked his legs as if he was trying to bury it. Even he wouldn’t eat it.


“Oof, yeah, that’s pretty bad,” Almë admitted. He grabbed a second melon and cut into it with his knife. It was gross too. He looked at the pile of melons in the cart. He couldn’t tell which melons were from which crop; he hadn’t tracked that at all. He had assumed that growing the melons was easy.


“Gods damn it! I spent 400 marks on this cart, to haul this crap all over town!” Taid wailed.


The two guards watched this play out, enjoying the show. It was a good day for them. Free entertainment while they did their jobs.


Almë dug around in the pile of melons. He was trying to get one that was likely not from the same batch. He cut a slice out of it, and tasted it. This one was fine; it was actually delicious. So the entire crop wasn’t ruined.


Ruby was pissed. Her reputation in the Citadel was ruined. She had promised high quality goods, and had delivered just the opposite. She was embarrassed. She had thought Almë was competent. She wasn’t sure now.


“Shows over, guys,” the first guard said. “Get that cart of stuff out of here.”


They turned Wilbur around, and left the Citadel.


“We can’t sell them in the Citadel,” Almë said. Ruby glared at him. If looks could maim, the Elf would have left in a basket.


“No, but no runners or messengers left the Citadel,” Taid said, “so no one else knows about the bad melons.”


“Any ideas on where we should sell this stuff?” Almë asked.


“Yeah,” Ruby said, “in the market. Far away from here.”


She thought about it for a moment, then said. “Okay, here is what we are going to do. That one,” she pointed at the third melon Almë had cut into, “tastes really good, right? We get this one, cut into slices, give out samples, and sell the rest based on that. But we will go to the lower priced markets, and sell them to the common people, but for a nice price, not a high price. They will be happy to get one, because they are not used to being able to get a good tasty melon of this size.”


“So if it’s a very good melon,” Eykit mused, “they will think it’s a very good deal.”


“And if they get a bad melon, they may get a bit angry, but they won’t want to kill us. And they probably won’t eat them right there on the spot anyway. They will take them back to their families as a treat.”


“Not wanting to kill us is important,” Eykit mentioned.


They went to a market, cut the good melon into small samples, and gave them out. Under normal circumstances, a honey melon went for up to three marks a melon. Eykit mentioned that if they sold them for three marks also, the people buying them would think they were getting a huge bargain.


“Well,” Taid said, “we’ve learned that Almë has to taste a melon from each batch. Just for quality control.”


Almë nodded in agreement. He really should have thought of that. Perhaps he had gotten a little too complacent about gardening. Although, in his defense, the plants he was used to growing weren’t the edible kind, so flavor had never been a priority.


“We can put the ones that you taste that are good down into the larder. We can’t sell them, but we can eat them. And paint lot numbers on them to keep track of them.”


They managed to sell all of the melons that day. Almë made 165 marks from the sale of the melons. They left as soon as they sold them all, just in case someone got a bad one and came calling. They got back to the Manor just before sunset.


Almë cleaned up the old vines, prepping the ground for planting the next day. He wasn’t done growing big, juicy melons. He used the spell of Earth Shaping to move the debris to a compost pile, taking a lot of the dirt with it.


Ruby’s glare at Almë didn’t abate all night. What’s worse, is that Norolind picked up on his companion person’s mood, and growled at Almë if the tall, skinny Elf got within three meters of him.


Taid, surprisingly, came to Almë’s defense. “You know, Ruby, you should be mad at yourself, too. You went out on a limb without actually validating the product. We all fucked that one up.”


Ruby had to admit he was right. It was a rookie mistake. But when was the last time she’d ever tried to sell melons? The answer was ‘never’.


“Apparently,” Almë said, “I’m such a bad plant mage that I didn’t know I needed to taste the stuff.”


Taid quipped, “Apparently, we all thought that the person with the plant magic wouldn’t fuck up a melon. It wasn’t like cooking a steak or anything. It was a gods damned honey melon!”


“I’m mad,” Ruby said, turning to Almë, “because you told me you were the best ever plant mage in the Empire. And you are so cocky.”





Ralsday, Harvest 36, 879 AFE


Almë didn’t want to ever grow anything that tasted bad to ever again, so in the morning he checked his remaining seed with the spell of See Plant Health. He wanted to weed out the bad ones before he tried to grow them. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any more nasty melons.


Using the spell, he saw three or four seeds that looked unhealthy. He got rid of those.




Eykit said, “We really should have some chickens. And pigs. Pigs will eat anything.” Eykit loved meat, being primarily carnivorous, so while growing vegetables and grains was great for eventually turning a profit, producing meat and meat products was more his style.


“I will have a problem with this,” Ruby said, “but we can discuss this later.” She knew that Goblins were primarily meat eaters, but she wanted to introduce him to a different eating style. She herself was vegetarian.


Almë started early that morning growing more melons. But first, he realized when he got out to the field, that he had to move the dirt that he had shifted out of the way with the old vines back to where it had been; he had scraped away the thin layer of Essential Earth. He could have used a shovel to tease the dirt away from the old vines and roots, but the spell of Earth Shaping was quicker and easier.


He planted the seeds, then cast Plant Growth on them to speed up their growth cycle. He got forty seven melons that day. Another full cartful of fruit.


Almë tasted a melon from each batch. All seemed to taste just like honey melons should. Sweet, juicy, flavorful, with a smooth texture that felt good in the mouth. The ones he tasted were slated to be eaten that day or the next, and he wanted to make sure he kept the seeds from them.


Starsday, Harvest 37, 8789 AFE




In the morning, Almë took the cart into town to a market. He took Eykit along to act as his melon seller. The melons even got an official name: “Almë’s Big-Ass Melons”. This time, they sold them for five marks each. Six hours later, they had sold all the melons, for a revenue of 210 marks. Almë gave 95 marks to pay off the rest of the debt he owed to Taid.


To Eykit, he gave 53 marks for his merchant services.


They had just enough time to get ready for the Commendation Ceremony. Almë spent about a half hour out in the field, prepping the soil, planting another round of seeds, and casting the spell of Bless Plants on the area. That should, over time, double the yield, which should grow more melons.


“We need to discuss what we will call this place,” Taid said.


Of course, Almë said, “Almë Manor!” But he was shouted down immediately. No one else had any intention of ever letting it be called that.


“Flower Pot Manor,” Taid said, and Ruby seconded it. Eykit, of course, hated that name, with a passion approaching that of a mother dragon protecting her eggs.


“How about a compromise?” Almë countered. “Almë’s Flower Pot Manor?”


“Nope,” Elitheris said. “No Almë.” ‘Almë’ was not going to be in the name. At all.


“Almë does not get his name on this.” Eykit said.


“After we had that incident with the melons,” Ruby said to Almë, “I will not agree with you.”


Almë changed the subject, and said, “I had a serious talk with Elitheris earlier. If she wants, I can grow a tree and treehouse on the property, where she can have her house and a workshop in the forest. It will take some time, though.”


On the Manor property, there was a significant piece of land that had never been cut down to make fields. It was still natural jungle. It was too small to support any large animals, but it was about a kilometer long and a bit less than half that wide. So there was plenty of room to find an appropriate tree to grow a house and shop in.


“That’s where I’d like to live,” Elitheris said. “I haven’t lived in a proper Elven tree in a very, very long time.” There was a wistfulness in her voice when she said that. “So if that’s an option, I would love that.”


“While this place may seem like Almë’s fever dream fantasy to get this,” Taid said, “it was earned by everybody. Everybody fought and did work to earn this place. That’s my only concern about it being named after anyone. It really was a group effort to get this place.”


“What about our initials?” Almë asked. “Can we do anything with that? E E R A T. Can we do something with that?”


“I think the ‘Flower Pot something’ is perfect because we’ve been hearing about this Flower Pot stuff throughout all of our missions. And yeah, it’s not the Flower Pot Gang, but now we can actually have flower pots. It makes sense—“


“It also means that you win,” Elitheris said, with a laugh.


“Well, yes but—“


“Yes,” Eykit nodded, not agreeing with the name, but acknowledging that were that to become the name, Taid would indeed win. Eykit hated that name almost as much as he hated “Almë Manor”. It just wouldn’t do.


“But it totally encompasses Almë’s nursery that he wants to build. We can have flower pots all over, it doesn’t necessarily tie us to any one business. We could call it ‘Flower Pot Industries’ or whatever.” Taid admitted, “I don’t care if it’s ‘Flower Pot’. I just don’t necessarily want to name it after any one of us.”


“I agree with that,” Elitheris said.


Taid got more serious. “Honestly, I don’t want the Manor to be associated with any specific names. Mostly because if any one of us gets into hot water, then the whole place gets besmirched.” He glanced at Almë. “By ‘any one of us’, I don’t know whom I’m talking about.”


“I don’t know either,” Elitheris said, knowing full well who was being referenced. Ego and impulse control could be a problem that none of them wanted to deal with.


“Yeah, but if the whole place comes under hot water now because it’s like, you know….”


Almë considered. “I give my vote to Flower Pot whatever.”


“I don’t really care; I just threw it out there because it’s just the name I had in my head. We don’t even have a name for our group.”


“No, we don’t,” Elitheris said.


“We were the ‘Ball-Busters’ for a while, because Eykit was stabby. Ball Sack Manor?” Taid laughed. Everyone else hoped that his latest name suggestion was a joke.


“Balls and Manors,” Almë said. “It’s on brand.”


“Balls and Melons?” Taid quipped.


“Melon Balls?” Elitheris offered, laughing.


“Testicle Tuckers?” Taid was on a roll.


But they were trying to make money on the place, eventually. So it had to sound like a legitimate establishment. Otherwise, people wouldn’t take them seriously, and not buy their products, whatever they might end up being.


Almë means “good fortune”, right?” Almë said. “So we can call it “Good Fortune Manor” in Elven.”


“No,” Eykit said. “Still a big no. You aren’t sneaking in ‘Almë’ that way, either.”


Taid said, “So I don’t really care what the name is. We have a lab, which is under the stairs—“


“I don’t think we want to call attention to that,” Eykit mentioned. “Too many people know about that already. We are going to need some significant security, and the sooner the better. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but the doors on alchemy shops are usually pretty tough, with good locks. Alchemy is easy to steal, and worth a lot.”


“Right, but I’m just saying that, like, aside from the farming that Almë wants to do. And Almë wants to do the farming, so that’s Almë’s thing, does anyone want to run another business out of this place? Because if they don’t, then we call it “Almë Gardens” or something. Or whatever, if Almë’s doing most of the work to generate the revenue.”


Taid had been a jeweler, before he had joined the Retreat that had trained him in magic and combat. It had been the family business, and he had grown up with it. However, he hadn’t really practiced it recently, and he thought that maybe he could set up a forge and jewelry making shop somewhere on the premises. Elitheris was thinking of having a bowyer shop, so why not a jewelry workshop?


“How about the Elven name for garden?” Ruby asked. “The root word is ‘tarwa’. Tarwa Manor.”


They sounded it out. And they didn’t hate it.




“Almina Tarwa Manor would be ‘good fortune manor’,” Almë said.


“Nope,” Ruby replied, and was immediately echoed by a series of voices expressing negation in several different ways.


“Well, I’m fine with tarwa,” Almë conceded. “It sounds good. I’m fine with that.”


“That way it’s not tied to us,” Taid said, “so there is no issues if we fuck shit up, it’s not tied directly to us.”


“And it’s not ‘Vesten’ any more,” Eykit said.


“Perhaps Karn Gardens?” Elitheris asked. “Or something like that? It doesn’t sound very pretty, though. Something Gardens.”


“What about ‘Wizard Gardens’?” Taid asked. Most of them were mages, after all. They were practically their own mage guild. “What’s the Elven word for ‘mystical’ or ‘magical’ or something like that? Or ‘fantastic’? You know, put some sort of adjective on it. The term gardens is too generic.”


“Sairina,” Elitheris said. “It means magical.”


“Well, they are magical, since Almë is using magic to make these things grow. Magical Gardens.”


“Saila is wise. That’s another option.”


“So, Sairina Tarwar, that sounds good,” Taid said. “That would be our name, and that means ‘Magical Gardens’. And Almë’s out there growing stuff magically. Literally. And gardens can encompass more things than just actual vegetation. We can have smiths and whatever and all that kind of stuff.”


“Then it’s settled,” Almë said. “It’s Sairina Tarwar.”


They cleaned up, dressed up, and made their way to the Citadel. They arrived, as requested, a couple of hours early. Technically, only Taid, Eykit, and Almë had to be there, as they were the ones the ceremony was for. But Ruby and Elitheris went as well, because something like this was rare. Ruby had appropriate clothing to wear, but Elitheris only had commoner clothing, although it was freshly laundered. She felt a bit out of place. She needn’t have worried; not only was everyone’s attention going to be on the others, her clothing was of Elven manufacture, so it didn’t look as common as Elitheris thought it did.


The Citadel sported colorful pennants, which snapped in the breeze that came in from the ocean. The air had a hint of salt tang, although it wasn’t strong because of the vast volume of fresh water that poured out of the Altasirya River.


There was purple and white bunting over the gate, and the gate guards had ribbons on their arms, matching the colors of the bunting. They were recognized at the gate, and told to wait while they got the people assigned to them.


The dogs were not allowed in the chambers, so they were placed in a fenced-off area of grass. Mr. Wiggles whined a bit at first, but once he discovered that the fenced in area also included a couple of kids with a ball, seemed happy enough. Norolind didn’t seem interested in chasing a ball, so he just laid down in the cool shade.


It wasn’t long until the people assigned to prepare the visitors came. It was a team of four servants. They escorted the group of five to some chambers prepared for their use. Once there, each of the three commendation participants each had a servant going over their clothes with a fine-toothed comb, making sure they were clean and properly fitted. A few decorative elements were added, mainly jewelry in silver and gold. Taid noted that none of the jewelry given to them to use had any gemstones in them. It was, in effect, costume jewelry, and worth very little.


The fourth servant did the same for Ruby and Elitheris. She didn’t need to spend much time with Ruby; but Elitheris would stand out like a sore thumb in the clothes she was wearing. Yes, they were of Elven make, but so worn and out of style that although they had originally been fit to be seen in court, as all Elven clothes were, they no longer were appropriate. She was able to find a blouse and pants that she could lend to Elitheris for the evening that would work.


Once the clothing issues had been sorted, all but one of the servants left. The remaining one, a Dwarf by the name of Dvalin, had been tasked with filling them in on the ceremony itself. He led them from the dressing rooms to the building with the legislative council hall, where the ceremony was to take place. But he didn’t bring them to the hall; he took them to a conference room in the same building, where he seated them and stood at the head of the table.


“It’s my job to fill you in on what’s going to be happening tonight. First, you will be led into the chambers. It will be filled with the rich and powerful, and not all of them will like you. In fact, most won’t. Try not to let their stares and sour faces get to you. Just stand there until it’s your turn.


“The baroness will say some introductory notes, then begin the Commendation Ceremony, which is where you swear fealty to her, and her to you. When it is your turn, you will approach the dias where the Baroness will be standing. Then you will kneel in front of her, your hands clasped in front of you. She will take your hands in hers, say some things, then ask you to repeat after her.


“When prompted, the proper response to the specifics of the oath is ‘I will’. Be honest, and sincere. There are people checking for such things, and if you have any doubts, now is the time to deal with them, or leave. If you don’t mean what you say, you will be arrested. Or worse. Oathbreaking isn’t something to do lightly.


“And what do you want to call the manor? Or do you want to just keep calling it Vesten Manor?”


“We are calling it Sairina Tarwar,” Taid said.

“Sairina Tarwar” in Annatar Italic, Quenya mode)


Dvalin nodded, and made some notes on a tablet he pulled out of a pocket. “Elven?” he asked.


Everyone nodded. “I’ll let the Powers That Be know.”




There were a few more instructions, and explanations of what the Ceremony of Commendation was, a bit of its history, and how it would play out. Dvalin also answered their questions, mostly about protocol and how to comport themselves. The Dwarf had been told that they were ‘only commoners’, but he would have known about three seconds after meeting them anyway.


It was time. They were then led one of the major legislative council halls. It was filled with local nobility and a sea of functionaries and courtiers. Most had sour expressions on their faces, probably because they didn’t like the idea of commoners becoming peers of the realm. That wasn’t technically what was happening, but it didn’t matter; either they knew that and were upset anyway, or they didn’t know it, and hated them for their elevation.

“Maybe they all look that way because they got some bad melons!” Taid whispered to Eykit. Eykit sputtered, trying to keep the laughter inside. It wouldn’t do to laugh out loud during such a solemn occasion.


There was a loud susurration of noise, everyone was talking to their companions or neighbors, and there must have been several hundred people in the room, either on the floor, in rows, or in the mezzanine reserved for guests and witnesses. The room itself could hold over six hundred people under its domed roof. Small glass panels in the ceiling allowed the slanting sunlight of the late afternoon to paint the east side of the dome with orange light.


Light was provided by a several oil lamps all around the perimeter, and several more on metal posts on either side of the main aisle, which led down the sloping floor to the dais at the far end. The five of them walked down the aisle, led by Dvalin. When they got to the dais, he showed them to their chairs, which were in the front row.

It wasn’t long until Baroness Kyran Bethany Alanna Walters came in from a door near the dais. She was in full regalia, and despite only being a baroness, was powerful enough and wealthy enough to rival that of one of higher actual rank. She controlled Port Karn, which enabled her to have powers akin to that of a count.


She moved to the center of the dais, looking out over the sea of faces in the audience. “Thank you for coming,” she intoned loudly, her strong voice carrying all the way to the far side of the round room. “We are here today to hear some newcomers swear fealty to the Empire, and for me to formally accept them into my service.”


She paused, and after a short delay, a couple people applauded. This quickly spread, as the nobles and courtiers overcame their reluctance and realized that they should follow what the crowd was doing. Soon the applause was loud and boisterous, if forced and insincere.


“Taid Tehoredor Lasu, you may approach and kneel before me.”


Taid took a deep breath, then stood and strode over to the Baroness. He knelt, and clasped his hands in front of him. He was nervous, almost as if he was talking to the High Lord of the Army. Which, in a sense, he was.


Baroness Walters took his clasped hands in hers. “Do you, Taid Tehoredor Lasu, agree to become my liegeman and protégé, owing fealty and duty to me, saving only that you owe to your Emperor and your Manor?”


In a voice that sounded much smaller than his own, Taid said, “I will.”


“Do you swear to obey me without question, to speak the truth to me at all times, however unpalatable this may be for either of us, to work hard, striving to serve others above all else and to treat all courteously, as behoves a Peer?”


Taid’s voice was much more normal when he said, “I will.”


“Then repeat after me:”
“I promise on my honor, my life, and the gods that I will in the future be faithful to my lord, never cause her harm and will observe my homage to her completely against all persons in good faith and without deceit. Nor will I ever with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to her, on condition that she will hold to me as I shall deserve it, and that she will perform everything as it was in our agreement when I submitted myself to her and chose her will. Here do I, Taid Lasu swear fealty to the Baroness Kyran Walters. I swear to defend the Barony by any means within my power, to obey the lawful commands of the Baroness, to advise the Baroness to the best of my ability, and to act in all ways as a true liegeman ought. This I swear until I formally revoke this oath or the Baroness depart from their thrones. So swear I, Taid Lasu.”


She paused after every clause, to allow Taid to repeat what she had said. Then she smiled, and said, “In our part We swear fealty to you and serve as your shield; to protect you, our liegeman; to regard your council, to tell you the truth in all matters, to have regard to the welfare of yourself and your house as if they were mine, to treat you fairly, and promote your good works to the Empire. This we swear until we do formally revoke this oath or until We depart from our throne. So say I, Baroness Kyran Bethany Alanna Walters.”


She released his hands, and bid him to rise and face the room and all of the witnesses. And it was done.


She called Eykit Hykissi next, and Eykit had to do and say the same things that Taid had said moments before. His knees shook as he made his way to the place where he was to kneel. But his voice was strong and sure, his talent for speaking not failing him.


And he, too, was now a peer, and authorized to be in charge of land.


Almë was next. He went and knelt in front of Baroness Walters, and said what he needed to say. And he too was a peer.


Baroness Walters addressed the crowd again. “I would like to thank you all for attending this auspicious occasion.” Several faces frowned, obviously disagreeing with her adjective. “It isn’t every day that we get to inject a little new blood into the political arena.” She smiled, knowing she irked most of the nobility with that. “This concludes the Ceremony of Commendation.”


She turned, and left the room through the same door from which she had come. Several clerks were busy writing down notes, forming the official records of the ceremony.


The Manor, and everything on it, and everything associated with it, was now theirs to control. All they had to do now was get all of the repairs done, hire a bunch of people to work the Manor, get the fields up and producing, and pay off all of the debt that came with the property. With some creative agriculture and crafting, it shouldn’t be more than several years until a profit was being made. They also had all the feudal duties owed to both the baroness and their Manor. On the plus side, they could now go to the baroness and ask for help when they desperately needed it.




A feast followed, to show appreciation for their future service and to celebrate the new peers of the realm. They had been told ahead of time that just because they were “peers” it didn’t mean that they had increased status. They were still commoners, not royalty. But it was a fuzzy distinction, because they were landed, despite their lack of status and rank. In a sense, they had managed to become landed knights, without the knight part.


Baroness Walters knew that the gala would likely be fraught with insults and mean looks, and she hated doing that to her new vassals. The nobles weren’t used to having ‘jumped up’ commoners becoming important. There was something about those three that she rather liked. They were likely to add a bit of chaos to the otherwise staid existence of the nobles. Plus, they were outside the system, uncorrupted as of yet. And that, she thought, could be useful.


The feast was pretty much as the baroness expected it to be. The five of them ate, and many people wanted to talk to them. There were even a few that didn’t express their dislike of the whole idea. But the energy in the room made them feel as if the sooner they left, the better off they would be.

The room was filled with potential enemies and allies. But even the allies were likely to be so only because of some use they thought that the new gentry could be put to. There were very few people there that didn’t look either like they were inferiors, or were looking simply to manipulate them in some way.


Taid, Eykit, and Almë took the brunt of the slights. Elitheris was uncomfortable, not because she was being singled out or anything. She was just not a person who did well at feasts in general. She drifted to the edge of the room after eating, and tried to be unobtrusive until they could leave.


Taid, Eykit, Almë, and Elitheris, weren’t powerful, nor were they rich. They lacked either of the two things that might have mitigated the selfish reasons they were talked to at all. A majority of the nobles who spoke to them did so out of duty, rather than desire.


On the other hand, Ruby seemed to fit right in. She knew how to talk to these people, and she wasn’t just a commoner; she had status, albeit minor, and plenty of money. She spent some time feeling out the local nobility, getting a sense of who they were, their basic motivations, and some of their plans. They were very much like the nobles back in Adayn, although with less narcissistic superior airs.


If someone was going to do them dirty, she wanted at least a bit of warning. She made mental notes of the folks she talked to, and of those they talked about. At the very least, it would give her something to report back to Central. Although, now that she thought about it, it was likely that Central already had a mole inserted into the nobility here. She looked around for any telltale signs, but saw none. He was likely good enough to not be noticed as an agent.


It was also highly likely that the agent was also nobility.




They left the Citadel after collecting their gear and dogs.




On the way back to the Manor, Ruby said, “Maybe we can have a party at home. Yeah. Do we have friends?”


Almë laughed. “What about Nathan?”


Taid said, “Hey maybe our buddy Ekain can make us some fireworks!”


“We keep trying to make friends, but Almë keeps running them off!” Eykit said.


“Heh,” Ruby chuckled, “I believe you, no questions asked.”


“Hey, I’ve given a lot back to this group, in terms of souvenirs,” Almë corrected. “Toys, pickles for everybody, stone balls....”


Taid responded, “Thanks for the knickknacks, Almë.” He didn’t sound impressed and dripped with sarcasm.


While the party idea sounded fun, Almë was more interested in going on an adventure. But the others mentioned that now that the house was theirs, they couldn’t just go running off. They had to make sure that no one else squatted in their dilapidated house, or steal whatever they could find.


They needed at least one employee, if only to watch over the place for them. They needed a reeve to oversee the Manor, and to provide at least a bit of security while they went after the remaining necromancers.



Lifesday, Harvest 38, 879 AFE


Almë planted the rest of his seeds, which used up about an acre of the field.


Taid wanted to do something that made money. Elitheris mentioned the job boards, although the Rural Watch didn’t pay all that well.


“What about the babies?” Taid asked. “Are the babies still around for money?”


“Then maybe we should check out the blue babies in Rhades,” Elitheris said.


“We should find a job in the direction of where one of these necromancers are, and go do the job, and while we’re there go poke in on the necromancers.”


“But do we know where that is?” Elitheris asked.


Almë and Taid both said, simultaneously, “Yes.”


There were three people that they hadn’t investigated yet that had been mentioned in the letters.


“And are we so sure we know where they are?” she asked again, unconvinced.


One was “MB”. They didn’t know where he was. One was Kallia, and they thought they had a vague idea of her whereabouts. And the third was Nigel, and they might know where he was.


“But what about the garden?” Taid asked. “If we go away for a couple months, it’s just going to grow fine?”


“We’re not going to be going away for months, right?” Almë said.


“How long are we going away then? Before you have to water it. I mean, we have no one to watch over this property.”


“Well, for Nigel, we need to ask where the bridge races are. Which is something Eykit could probably find out in about five minutes by asking his guild. We know that Nigel has an underwater cave, with cliffs.”


“Is he the guy with the zombie called ‘Jelly’?” Elitheris asked.


“Yes, Jelly. He hides it in the underwater cave, and there are probably more caves there. It’s near a lake, and he’s living on the cliff, and there are servants, so it’s some kind of bigger house, probably. But there are bridge races done by the Aarakocra. But we can ask somebody where the bridge races are happening. And when they tell us, we’ll know the place.”


He glanced at Eykit. “So if Eykit asks somebody about the bridge races, we have a hint. Unless the answer is ‘there are fifty different bridge races, which one do you mean?’”


Eykit sighed. “Fine, I’ll go ask somebody.” He put on his boots. He’d liked the cool stone tiles of the floor. Now he had to go out into the hot day and walk the two kilometers to New Square Skulls territory. Although he could have asked anyone in town, he supposed. But he felt he’d have a better chance of finding out the information if he asked “his people”.




He walked to Port Karn, grumbling most of the way. Yeah, he got it. He was the social one. The one with contacts. People he could talk to. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel like an errand boy.


He went to the Pig’s In His Cups tavern. Sticks was there, playing drums with his band. It was his day job. His real job was enforcer. Eykit listened for a while, since Sticks’ band played the fast tempo, hard rhythm music he liked. But when the set was over and the band was taking a break, he went over to Sticks and bought him a drink. Well, actually, he managed to get a buy-one get-one deal from the tavern keeper.

“Aw, thanks, man!” Sticks said, taking a big sip of the ale. “How’s it feel to be one of the high and mighty?”


“What? How did you know?” Eykit said, startled, as he looked around to see if anyone heard Sticks say that. “It’s only been one day! How’d—“


“Relax,” Sticks said soothingly. “Master told us. Seemed proud, he did. Like a proud poppa.”


“Well, keep it down. It’s hard enough being anonymous without people telling me I’m special. And I’m not all high and mighty anyway.”


“You had that ceremony thing, right?”


“Yeah, but that doesn’t make you high and mighty! It just makes you… beholden. It’s like the baroness is watching all the time.”


“Aw, sorry, man. It’s not all bad is it?”


“Uh, no, I s’pose not.” Eykit said, then sipped his own ale. It wasn’t the best ale he’d ever had, but it was Pig’s In His Cups ale, and that made it special. “Hey, I’ve got a question for you.”


Sticks took another long pull of his ale, wiped his lips, and said, “Go for it, man. I’ve got an answer for you. Probably the wrong answer, but it’s an answer.”


“Ever hear of something called a ‘bridge race’?”


“A what?”


“A bridge race. I don’t know, it’s something that the skyfolk do.”


“Huh. Never heard of it. Maybe it’s a race along the bridge to Port Karn North.”


Since Eykit had never heard of it either, it likely meant that it wasn’t something that happened locally. Which meant it likely wasn’t a race along the series of bridges that crossed the mouth of the Altasirya River from Port Karn to Port Karn North.


“Well, thanks, Sticks. I have to go. Enjoy your beer. You played well tonight.”


“Thanks, my man. For the compliment and the ale!” He waved as his Goblin friend hurried out the door.


He needed a tavern on a busy thoroughfare, one with travelers from distant places. One on Second Street, maybe? he thought. Nah, at the wharfs maybe. Lots of travelers and sailors there. People who have seen the world.


He found one on the wharfs, frequented by sailors. It was called the Excited Fish, and it smelled like it. It was likely their famed fish and chips. Or it was just the air from the docks. It was hard to tell.


But he talked up a few people, and asked them questions about bridge racing. No one had heard of such a thing. Eykit was beginning to think that these races must be a minor, local thing. Which was fine, but he needed to know where they were held. He’d even asked the bartender, who must have seen thousands of people from all over the land. He hadn’t heard of it either.


He tried an inn. Their stock in trade was travelers. Surely someone there must know something. But alas, he struck out there, too. This was taking a long time, and his feet were getting sore from all the walking.


He stood outside, looking around, trying to figure out where he could try next. Then he looked up. He could see, circling above him, high in the sky, a pair of Aarakocra. He’d seen them before; the City Guard and the Rural Watch employed them, as did courier services. And the military.


Eykit really didn’t want to get the attention of those two skyfolk above his head. They were likely City Guard. “Screw this,” he said to himself, and he went back to the Manor.


Meanwhile, it occurred to Ruby that Eykit was likely asking the wrong people. If the bridge races were an Aarakocra thing, perhaps they should ask them. When Eykit came back, they set out. Eykit complained about his feet, but they fell on deaf ears.


They went to the Imperial Army base. The military employed Aarakocra; maybe they could ask one of them. They were, of course, stopped at the gate, and asked their business.


“Who are you here to see?” the sentry asked, after they had introduced themselves.


“A birdman?” Almë said.


“One of the skyfolk? Which one?”


“One. We don’t care. We need a scout.”


“Huh. Okay, I’ll see if one will talk to you.” He turned and spoke quietly to a slender Goblin woman, who listened then took off running into the base.


They waited. The minutes stretched out, and twenty minutes later they saw the Goblin come back, still running. She saluted the gate sentry. “Sir, both skyfolk are out on maneuvers and are currently unavailable.”


“Thank you, Tethys. That will be all.” He turned to Almë and Taid. “You heard? Neither are available.”


“Do you know how long?” Almë asked.


The man shook his head. “Not a clue.”


“You’re not being very helpful,” Elitheris said to him. He shrugged in return.


“We could try a courier station,” Ruby said. “They usually have skyfolk on the payroll. I have to use them from time to time.”


So the four of them went to the nearest courier station, the location of which was provided by the gate sentry. So he was at least helpful in that.


The station was not large. It was one small storefront in a much larger building made up of several storefronts. The courier station seemed to be a small area with a counter. A single clerk stood on the other side.


“Hello! Can I help you?” the man said. “What do you need sent? And how soon do you want it to get there?”


“We just need to talk to one of the skyfolk,” Ruby said.


The man looked confused. “What?”


“I would like to talk to your fastest courier.”


“Oh. Right. Just a moment.” He raised the hinged portion of the countertop and went outside. He looked up, and waved. Then waited. Coming out, the group could see, up in the sky, a raptorial form circling lower and lower. As it got closer, they saw that it was an Aarakocra, with a wingspan of over six meters.


She had golden brown feathers with white speckled spots, and she alighted on the rooftop of the courier station. She looked down with first one hazel eye, then the other. Her voice was melodious. “What is your need, groundbound?”


“Um, yeah. I’ve heard you’re really fast, and you know, I have money to spend, and I’m into bets. What do you think about it? Do you know where I can spend some money?”


She blinked, spread her wings, and used them to gesture a great circle. “You can spend your money all over the place. This is a big city.”


“Yeah, but I’m interested in some special kind of races. I love it when you guys fly so fast and I’ve heard there are races somewhere.”


“Well, that’s pretty common everywhere, really. Racing is like groundbound running. It’s all over. I do not understand.” Her feathers of her back raised up a bit, the skyfolk version of a confused shrug.


“What about your folk? I hear there are races in some places where there are bridge races. Have you heard of those?”


“Ah! Yes, I have. You are interested in that?” The feathers flattened back down.


“Yes! I am really interested in it.”


“Ah, I see.”


“But I have no idea where it is. Can you help me out with this information?”


“Yes. I can. They happen in the city of Lakekeep.”


“Gentlebeings,” the courier clerk said, “was there something you wished to send somewhere?”


“Ah, no, we just needed the information.”


The clerk looked to the Aarakocra, and shrugged apologetically at having her time wasted. She nodded at him, then launched herself into the air on strong wings. The clerk went inside, out of the hot sun.


Lakekeep was something over 900 kilometers away. It was farther than any of them besides Ruby had traveled, with the possible exception of Elitheris. But her path was only that long because it was winding and doubling back as she wandered the Altasirya River valley. So even then, she hadn’t gone that far away; she’d just gone that far.


Lakekeep was on an island in Parson Lake, located to the south of Port Karn on the other side of the Zirinibar Mountains. Even Ruby hadn’t been there.


“That’s not a ‘let’s go off and make money for a couple of days’!” Elitheris said.


“We might need to build a second manor,” Taid commented.


“Kallia’s closer,” Almë said.


“Honestly, before we can go that far,” Taid stated, “our Manor needs to be self-run at that point. We need to have employees managing it so we can go off for a while.”


“We need to hire an overseer,” Eykit said.


“Well, the blue babies aren’t that far away,” Taid said.


“Is there loot? With the babies?” Elitheris asked.


“Fingers?” Taid said. “Finger food?”


Eykit was appalled. Hadn’t they just recently stopped a bunch of cannibals?


“This is kind of a serious thing,” Taid said. “Now we have a house, now we have upkeep. We have all this stuff.”


“And this is the reason I didn’t want the gods damned house,” Elitheris said.


“So we have this stuff, and now we have to start doing some stuff that’s going to earn money. That’s just the way it is. We just can’t go gallivanting around.”


“Maybe we can go back to the board and see if we can find a better quest for more money. Or maybe we can solve the baby riddle but not take care of it. Then we can get the money from the villagers to take care of it.”


“Or we can just sell the babies,” Elitheris joked. There was, after all, a technically illegal but still thriving slavery market. “I’m just kidding. I don’t mean any of that.”


“Oh, sell the babies!” Almë said. “I thought I heard dissolve the babies, and I was like, what? In acid? That’s going completely off the rails!”


“That would solve the blue problem,” Taid added.


“The babies are already blue, I’m not sure how much they’d be worth if we sold them.”


“Maybe we can unblue them first,” Elitheris said.


“They can’t taste as bad as those melons,” Taid quipped. “I guess, without any other stuff to do, we’ve got some seeds in the ground, we can’t be gone that long.”


“Then let’s do babies. Maybe there is loot.”




“Is the Manor safe?” Ruby asked.


“We haven’t hired anybody,” Taid replied. “And so, no. That’s why I keep saying we need to hire somebody to oversee the house. Before we leave.” Especially since everyone now knew that they had control of it. It would be cheap and easy to sabotage it and make them look like incompetent buffoons, and force the baroness to take it away from them.


“So, let’s hire somebody then,” Elitheris said.


“Eykit, you think someone from your guild might want to babysit the house for us for a while?” Taid asked.


Ruby asked, “Almë, you think you could make a protective hedge around the house?”


Instead of building up the defenses around the house, Almë had grown melons instead. He needed the quick cash from the crop. “The house won’t burn down in three days,” Almë said. “We should be fine.”


“Almë,” Eykit said, “I don’t trust your opinion that the house won’t burn down. The more likely thing is that we get raided.”


“Also,” Ruby added, “we promised we won’t abandon the Manor. And we shouldn’t leave it empty.”


“I will ask at my guild if there is anyone there who is willing to stay here and watch the place.” Eykit left, walking some more on his sore feet. It was back to the Pig’s In His Cups, and he saw that Sticks was still there. He wasn’t playing; his band had finished its set a couple of hours earlier.


“Sticks!” Eykit called to him.


“Hey, man!” Sticks was entertaining a couple of women, one an Orc, the other a Human.


“Can I talk to you?”


“Sure. Speak.”


“Privately, dumbass!”


“Ah. Excuse me, girls. I’ll be back.” He rose from his seat, and Eykit dragged him over into the corner.


“Sticks, would you be interested in, uh, housesitting for us for a few days?”


“What, me in your manor house?” Sticks’ grin implied he wouldn’t mind.


“Yeah. Just for a few days. We are worried it might get raided or something. We don’t have much of anything inside yet, so there is little to steal, but there is always the chance that it’s being watched, If we leave it empty, someone might come and destroy it or something. We didn’t make a lot of noble friends.”


“Just me, or should I bring some others?”


“Others would be fine. And were is Iceman at the moment? Any idea? I want to alert him too.”


“For you, I’ll do it for a hundred marks. And I think Iceman said something about accounting over at Bakerson and Conrad.”


“Thanks, Sticks.” He handed over the coins. “You know where our manor is?” Sticks shook his head. “Okay, you take Third Street all the way to the edge of the city, then take the first dirt track on the left through the fields. You’ll see some jungle. Skirt that to the north, and you’ll reach the manor house. It still has the sign that says ‘Vesten Manor’. We haven’t made the new sign yet.”


Sticks gave him a thumb’s up and a grin. “Gotcha, boss.”


Eykit was almost out the door when he remembered a very important piece of information. He came flying back to Sticks, whispering, “And we have a guy renting out some space in the basement. It’s Ekain Julen. The alchemist. You remember him?”


“Oh, yeah. Not one for music, much. But he’s patched me up with some poultices now and again. I’ll keep track of him for ya.”


“Thanks!” And Eykit was off again to find Iceman.


Bakerson and Conrad was a commodities trading firm, dealing in agricultural supplies, pottery, and barrels. Eykit arrived as Iceman was just finishing up with some rather pale and sweating clerks in the employ of the company. They didn’t look happy. Unlike Iceman, who looked quite satisfied.


“Ah, hello, Eykit. What do you want?” Jakkit asked.


“Just to inform you, and the master, that we need to leave the Manor, and I’ve arranged for Sticks to watch over it while we are gone. Should only be a few days.”


“Leave the Manor?” he seemed surprised. “You only just got it.”


“Yeah, but something time sensitive has come up, and we didn’t want to leave it unguarded.”


“Wise, from what I’ve heard. I’ll put a few guys on it myself, discreetly. Toren thinks that some of the other rival factions that weren’t too pleased to see uppity commoners get it might do something destructive. Better that we keep you from losing it so soon, eh?”


“Thanks, Iceman.”


“Don’t mention it. Besides, we need you in control of that Manor. It would be a shame to lose out on such a potential resource.”


Eykit got the feeling that things bigger than he imagined were happening. He went back to the manor, to tell his friends that there would indeed be someone guarding the house, and to tell Ekain about the house sitters.


Almë also wanted to tell his guild that he was going to be gone for a little while. He had a different reason, though; he wanted to make sure his crops would be cared for. It didn’t have to be a mage, just someone with gardening or farming skills to make sure his sprouts didn’t wither and die.


He had farther to go; PKAC was near the Citadel, whereas Eykit’s guild territory wasn’t even in the old walled section of town. But Almë had long legs, and he was used to walking, so he made good time.


He stepped into the administration building, and asked to see someone in charge of personnel. Being a member of the guild, and an employee, it didn’t take long.


“I’m leaving my job for a while,” Almë told the personnel clerk. “Just a few days.”


“And you need someone to cover you?”


“Yep.”
“And to do what, exactly?”


“To water the melon sprouts and generally take care of them.”


The clerk leaned back in his chair, looking at Almë. “Vacation already? You’ve been with us what,” he looked at the file on his desk, “an eightday?”


“Not a vacation. I have to take care of something important for the baroness.”


“Really?” The clerk didn’t sound like he bought it. He sighed.


“Can I hire somebody?”


“Sure.”


“Any normal gardeners or farmers that are working for the guild that I can use?”


“Yeah, you can pull them off of their important projects to fill in for you while you do this…thing…for the baroness.” The look on the guy’s face indicated he wasn’t impressed.


“Yeah, never mind.” Almë could just find a day worker somewhere and hire them. He didn’t need the Ag Council.


The clerk silently watched him leave, then shook his head. People were getting so lazy nowadays.


Almë looked for some migrant workers. He didn’t find any near the guild offices; being that they were in the heart of the city, this wasn’t surprising. He was able to find some in markets closer to the actual fields, though.


There were six people who looked to be waiting for work, five Orcs and a Goblin, waiting to be picked up for the night shift. He looked them over from a distance, trying to see which one or ones were not just scruffy hobos. None of them were scruffy hobos. They were just workers without a Manor, and thus without a community of support. So all of them had worn clothing, although they weren’t any dirtier than anyone else in the market.


Almë looked for the coolest guy of the six. One wore a black leather jacket. In the heat. He also wore dark glasses and a wide brimmed hat. Almë introduced himself.

“Fonzug Firerunner,” the Orc said. “But people call me ‘the Fonz’. You hiring?” The others, also in wide brimmed hats, looked at the slender Elf expectantly.


“I was wondering if you would like to work on our lands for a week or two.”


“I’d like some work, yes.”


“What skills do you have? Are you good at farming?”


Fonz cocked his head. “It’s my job. I’m a farm hand.”


“Perfect!” Almë said, grinning. “You are hired! How much do you want for two eightdays? And we could be extending that for more time. Possibly a full time job.”


“Three hundred and twenty marks.”


Almë negotiated with him, telling him that he’d be staying in the manor house, not just a farm barracks. But Fonzug’s price was firm. It was already pretty cut rate, and at the low end of market rates.


He also had to figure out what he wanted Fonzug to be doing. The Manor had a woodlot, a peach orchard, and the seven fields, one of which had some melons growing in it. Having him harvest the peaches made the most sense, and Taid had a baker contact that might be able to use some fruit. And maybe he could be convinced to go get the peaches as well.




“You might want to hire more than just me. I’m good, sure. But a whole orchard? The fruit will rot before even a small fraction of it is gathered.” He indicated the guys nearby that he was with.


Almë agreed. He figured he did need more people. He just couldn’t afford too many yet. He hired two others. The other three people were disappointed. They would have liked a steady job for a couple of eightdays.


Taid was sent to talk to his baker friend, Balgram, to hopefully be a buyer for their peach crop. Eykit suggested that maybe it might be smart to negotiate a price after the first delivery is made, just to avoid any unpleasantness with more bad fruit. “And,” he added, “there is no reason to have your urchins collecting money. We’d have no idea where any of it would go off to.”


The baker was given first choice of fruit. He wouldn’t be able to use all of the peaches picked. He was asked if he knew of anyone else who might want peaches. He knew of several people who might be interested.


The three workers cost a total of 960 marks for two eightdays. The three people he hired couldn’t possibly pick all of the peaches that were ripe before they fell off the tree. But at least they would get part of the crop in.


Ruby suggested letting people pick their own for a small fee.


Fonzug was put in charge of the two other workers, and put in charge of the self-picking area. Eykit met him, and asked him some questions. He seemed trustworthy enough. Ruby also thought he was an honest worker.


They had figured out who would watch the place, and who would pick at least some of the peaches, and where those peaches could be sold. Finally, after a couple of days, they were ready to leave.


Skysday, Harvest 40, 879 AFE


It was time to save some babies from whatever was turning them blue.


The rumors and news of the Breathstealer had come from the area around Rhades, a town about a day’s walk from Port Karn, located to the southwest. It was one of the farming towns that supplied Port Karn and its environs with food, and was the center of Sharpe County, of only because Count Alistaire Sharpe had his manor house located just north of the town.




They left shortly after dawn, walking down the dirt path to the stone-paved road that led south, to Meke Larnis, then west, to Donnington. Wilbur was carrying most of their gear, as was usual. It made traveling in the heat so much better. They were a party of five now, with two dogs.


The terrain was mostly rolling hills, separated by large flat areas, all segmented by the hedgerows that compartmentalized the fields. Many of those fields were grains, and on many of the smaller streams and rivers they could see mills, busily grinding the grains into flour of one variety or another. Some of the mills they saw were windmills, when there wasn’t a convenient river or mill pond to use.


Because of the uncertainty of the wind, those mills were primarily used when extra capacity was needed, and the wind was actually blowing. The wind was blowing northwards, towards the sea. It smelled of vegetation and humidity, and was warm and sticky. The windmills’ arms turned slowly in the breeze.


It was late afternoon, when Elitheris shouted at Taid, “Hey! Look out for--“


All of a sudden the air was filled with a loud popping noise, as if a bunch of firecrackers were going off. And it was happening under Taid’s feet. He jumped from the sudden noise, his ears ringing, and he took several steps to the side.


Almë and Ruby had seen it, and recognized it as well. Taid had stepped on snapweed. Snapweed, or hlónawelvolastë, as the Elves called it, was a defensive plant that they had developed, and often used around their settlements to deter animals or alert them to the presence of intruders. It wasn’t harmful, but the little bladders of air popped when a weight pressed down on them, such as a foot. And they made a great deal of noise. This one must have gone feral, grown from a seed blown on the wind to the side of the road.


They arrived in Rhades area in the late afternoon. It had taken them longer than necessary, because both Taid and Eykit insisted on wearing their armor in the heat. Every hour or so, they had to find some shade and rest for twenty or thirty minutes to keep from falling over due to heat stroke. Ruby was fine; her Elven silversilk, while padded, was mostly silk, and thus fairly cool in the summer heat. Almë and Elitheris had their gambesons open. They were still hot, and appreciated the shade they rested in, but they weren’t in nearly the straits that Eykit and Taid were in.


They started to see clusters of buildings along the road, little hamlets that housed the farmers that worked in the area. They were typically about a kilometer apart, or slightly more. In fact, they could see houses, barns, and grain elevators scattered all over the landscape, tucked in the spaces between fields.


They crossed a river, and they could see the town of Rhades ahead of them. It wasn’t a large town, just a main road going through the center of town, with side roads sprouting off of it, leading to residences. At the center of town was the town square, which was where the market was held on market days.


Like much of the area around Port Karn, the people they saw working were mostly Orcs. By their estimation, about two thirds of the population was Orcish, about a fifth was Human, a tenth seemed to be Goblin, and everyone else was barely represented. And, despite being daytime, many of the workers they had seen in the fields were Orcs, so they knew there were a lot more that hadn’t gone on shift yet. The ones they saw working in the sun were likely the ones that got unlucky when the working shifts were assigned.


To an Orc, working during the day was unpleasant. They had problems if their skin was exposed to sunlight, and their infrared vision made seeing anything during the day without dark glasses difficult. But they worked hard, were resilient, and made the situation work anyway. In most areas, the Orcs rotated the work shifts regularly, to provide at least some relief.


They had picked up a flyer from one of the Rural Watch stations, many eightdays ago, which read across the top in large letters, like a headline, “Rampant in Rhades! The Breathstealer! Killer of babies!” Beneath that, in smaller text, was a paragraph that read, “It’s killed a dozen babies in the last three weeks, sucking the life out of them. It’s invisible and deadly, and leaves the dead children blue. What have we done to deserve this? Please help us! Babies all over the Rhades area are dying!”


“Let’s try to find someone in charge, the local sheriff or something,” Taid suggested, “so we can find out what’s going on about the Breathstealers. Assuming no one else has already solved the problem.”


Everyone seemed to think that was a good idea, so they started looking for the local constable. They didn’t find him, but they did see a town guardsman, making his rounds.


The guardsman wore the livery of Count Sharpe, his gambeson quartered in black and gold. He was armed with spear and sword, with a shield on his back. The shield displayed the colors of the local baronet, Felson Undrite, whose colors were a dark red and buff, with a black rooster in the upper right corner.


The guard looked bored. Which was good, because it meant that there was nothing happening that he had to deal with. But there were times he wished that something in this sleepy town would happen. He had always styled himself a hero. He hoped that there would be something he could do when the Breathstealer came to town, but, being honest with himself, he just didn’t know. Whatever was killing the babies in the surrounding farmlands hadn’t done anything in town yet.


He saw the group approaching. Five people, leading a horse, a dog, and what the hell was that? As the creature got closer, it appeared to be another dog. But an immense one. Only after his mind resolved the large dog into something it could handle did he see that one of the people, the Dwarf, carried a halberd. It was sheathed and peacebonded, which was good. He wouldn’t have to accost him, and either fine or arrest him. The group looked like they could be dangerous, so he was glad he didn’t have to get “official”.


He nodded at the diverse visitors. They obviously weren’t from around town, and had to be travelers.


“Hello, good sir,” Taid intoned. “A while ago, we came across a flyer about a breath stealer, and babies dying. And so we were wondering what the status of that problem was. Is this still an issue? Or has it gotten worse, or better? Maybe you can tell us what you know of the situation, because we are here to take care of it.”


“Yeah, there have been babies dying,” Hamish the guard said. “No one really knows what’s causing it.”


“You seem pretty calm about it though. So it’s not affecting adults or anything? It’s not really worrying you?”


“So far, it’s only affected babies.”


“And is no one actively looking into this?” Taid’s tone was a bit surprised.


“Everybody is wondering. Everybody is looking around.”


“What are people doing to protect their children?”


“Keeping them indoors. Doesn’t seem to help, though.”

“Are these babies suffering from whatever this is,” Eykit asked, “in their cribs? At night? Are they dying in their mothers’ arms?”


“From what I understand, and I don’t have children of my own, yet, the babies just have trouble breathing. Something is stealing their breath away, and it doesn’t just happen in their beds, it’s happening all the time.”


The guard looked frustrated, and continued. “I don’t know. There are so many rumors about what this thing could possibly be. No one really knows what’s going on. Some people think it’s an evil wizard. There was a guy who got lynched because of it.”


“But lynching the guy didn’t stop it?” Eykit asked.


“No.”


“Of course not,” Elitheris said.


Almë asked, “What was his name?”


The guard turned his attention to the tall, slender Elf. “It was Hyram Coulter. Old guy, lived in a tent by the river. Didn’t like people much, and apparently the feeling was mutual because he was accused of being a warlock that cursed the children.”


“Do the families affected have anything in common besides geography?” Eykit asked.


“And babies,” Elitheris added.


“They are all Orcs?” the guard said, shrugging. “All of the babies that died were babies in Orc families.”


“One out of every five residents being a Human, you’d expect them to be affected,” Eykit mused. “If they were going to be affected.”


“That seems pretty specific,” Elitheris stated. “Is it simply a disease that affects Orcs? Or something else?”


“I wonder if it’s related to our Orc buddy?” Taid asked. “What was his name? Cookie? Borrok? Bogruk! You know, Lennerd’s zombie friend.”


The guard wasn’t done with the rumors. “Other people think the area is cursed. Some think it’s a strange monster leeching the life out of them. Some think it’s some sort of wraith or something. No marks have been left on the babies, except the blueness. And some even think it’s the parrots.”


“Does anyone who has lived in the area, left the area to try to avoid the problem?” Eykit asked. Seemed like a logical solution to him.


“I don’t know. Most people around here are pretty much tied to their lands.”


“So if people find themselves pregnant just cross their fingers and hope?”


“The babies have only been dying for the last couple months.”


“Is there a doctor or healer in town?” Almë asked. “Or wise man in the area?”


“Yeah,” the guard replied. “Like an alchemist?”


“Yes, something like that.”


“Someone new?” Ruby asked.


“What happened around a few months ago?” Eykit asked. “Anything interesting?”


“What’s the alchemist’s name?” Almë asked.


The guard was getting overwhelmed with questions. “Hey, now, one person at a time! The alchemist’s name is Hakna Bonesorrow.”


“When the babies turned blue,” Ruby asked, “was there any special weather conditions? Like raining, thunder, the moon, the sun? Anything?”


The town guardsman looked taken aback. “You know, no one has ever asked that before! I’ve got no idea.”


“When was the last death?” Eykit asked.


“The last death that I am aware of was about two eightdays ago.”


Ruby considered. The moon had been a waxing crescent at that time.


“What’s the time between when they turn blue and when they die?” Taid asked. “Is it quick, or is it prolonged?”


“Uh, I think it takes place over a couple of eightdays.”


“Oh.” Taid turned to his companions. “So, are we interested in when they die, or when they are affected?”


“When they fall ill,” Eykit and Ruby said simultaneously. They looked at each other. Eykit grinned and shrugged.


“Is there some special night,” Ruby asked. “such as when everyone is at the shrine, or something? Is there some regular event when this happens?”


“You know, I’m not sure. You really need to talk to the families. You are asking for details that I just don’t have!”


“Are there any babies currently ill?” Eykit asked.


The guard shrugged, “I don’t know. I know most people in town, but not everyone in the hamlets.”


“No rumors?”


“None that I’m aware of. I don’t hear everything. It’s a relatively big town.” The guard was exaggerating. It was a medium-sized town, at best.


“Can you tell us where the last dead baby lived?” Almë asked.


“Is there a midwife in town?” Ruby inquired. She had almost asked if there were a hospital or healers’ house in town, but had realized immediately that this wasn’t the city. Besides, most births were performed by midwives anyway. And the midwife would most likely be keeping tabs on the newborn and the recovering mother.


The guard didn’t know where the last baby who died had lived.


The sun was down, and the bell tower chimed three slow bongs, followed after a pause by a fourth; they had been questioning the town guardsman for quite some time and it was an hour after the midpoint of the day. They needed to get to the inn. It was near the town square, which made sense. Most towns had their main businesses in the center of town, where it was easily reachable. Especially if the town was so small it only had one, as Rhades did.


The Inn was called the Blue Violet Inn, and was a two story structure with a paved courtyard, with benches and planter boxes filled with colorful tropical plants and bluish colored violets.


“Oh look! Flower pots!” Eykit pointed out sarcastically.


They tied Wilbur to a ring mounted on the wall. He started nibbling on the flowers in the planter boxes.


The other seven of them went inside, much to the dismay of the innkeeper, who wasn’t used to having pony-sized mutts inside his establishment. Inside was dim, lit by a series of oil lamps, but cooler than the outside.


They arranged for a couple of rooms, the women and dogs in one room, the men in the other. They seemed to be the only guests at the inn. They also got Wilbur a stall in the inn’s stable.


“No one else is staying here?” Eykit asked.


The innkeeper shrugged. “The Breathstealer has frightened everyone away. No one wants their breath stolen.”


Eykit asked, “Have residents left town? Or have the people that have been here a while stayed?”


“I’m sure some must have left. No one told me they were leaving, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”


“Nobody’s come to you and said, hey, we’re gettin’ outta here?”


“No.”


“And the Breathtaker,” Ruby said, “has only taken the breath of babies?”


“So far, yeah.”


“So far. But no one knows if there are other people who have been attacked?”


“Whatever that Breathstealer is, it hasn’t attacked older children or adults. Yet.”


“What’s the oldest baby that died that you know of? Was it under a year old?” Eykit asked.


“Some were newborns, some were a few months old.”


“Thank you, kind sir,” Taid said. “I’m thirsty. Let’s go over there.” He gestured at the building across the street. The Cracked Keg. It looked like a tavern.


They went across the street. They wanted to get some food, talk to the other travelers, if there were any, and the tavern keeper. They were often good sources of information. Ruby looked to see if anyone was paying attention to them.


Of course the locals were looking at the newcomers. The newcomers were different and weird, an odd mix of races, and one had an immense black dog with a saddle on it. They stood out like the sorest of thumbs, so of course they turned heads. But no one looked obviously suspicious.


The Cracked Keg tavern was as dim as the inn across the street, and also lit by oil lamps. One was on each table, and that provided most of the light. Some ambient light was provided by a large, wheel-shaped chandelier, which must have had thirty tallow candles on it. The place smelled like meat. Ruby’s nose wrinkled in displeasure.


The room had rows of tables and benches. The room was crowded with field hands coming off of the daylight shift, but they managed to find some space at a table where they could sit together. It helped that Norolind decided that the cool stone floor under the end of the table was a good place to lay down, which cleared off about two meters of bench on either side. Ruby grinned, and sat down, motioning for everyone else to follow suit. Having a big scary dog could be useful, sometimes.


An Orcish barmaid came around, paused as she looked for the people that had been sitting where the newcomers now sat, and dropped off a pair of mugs. Then she came back, wary of the large canine.


Taid spoke up first. “What’s on tap?”


“An amber ale and a pale lager,” the barmaid replied. “And some mead. All local. Beer is two marks, the mead is four. Well water is free.”


They all ordered drinks. It had been a long hot day walking in the sun with only their canteens for refreshment. Warm water got old, fast.


When the barmaid came back with the mugs, Ruby asked about food.


“We have stew; I think the meat in it is fowl tonight. Might be some pork left in it from yesterday. That’s three marks. If you want a roasted chicken, that would be eight marks. There is also pottage with lentils, flavored with bacon. That’s two. Everything is served in a bread trencher.”


They ordered food. Ruby planned on ordering two dishes of the pottage, despite the bacon flavoring, one after the other. She just wasn’t a fan of meat.


While they waited for their dinners to come, they spoke to the tavern keeper, who was behind the bar washing mugs in a basin of water. They asked him similar questions they asked the inn keeper, and got many of the same answers.


“Do you know of any animals that had the same issues?” Ruby asked.

Tavern keeper of the Cracked Keg
“No one has mentioned that they were having any problem with their livestock,” the tavern keeper replied. “But I wouldn’t be surprised by that. If a goat’s skin turned bluish, no one would notice through the fur anyway, even if they were paying that much attention to simple animals.”


“People wouldn’t be as concerned if a foal didn’t make it,” Eykit said.


Ruby said, “If there were more than usual deaths of livestock, maybe someone would talk about it if all of their livestock died.”




“Do you know any of the families that have had the loss of a baby?” Eykit asked.


“Yes. Pug Ogthrak lost their kid. Their steading it almost due south from the town.”


“How far out of town does this go?”


“Well, the Ogthraks live about a half a kilometer away from here. Not far. Down by some lavender fields.”


Eykit turned to his companions. “Maybe the affected cases are focused around a particular area? Maybe it isn’t the town. Maybe it’s a point outside of town? Maybe it just happens to overlap with some of the town.”


The tavern keeper said, “As far as I know, no one in town has been affected by the Breathstealer. It’s all in the outer settlements.”


“Is it all around town, or is it focused in a particular area?”


“Mostly to the south. Whatever it is, it has hunting grounds to the south.”


“Interesting. Okay.” Eykit rubbed his chin in thought. “South of town…”


From the way he spoke about it, the tavern keeper thought it was an animal, or spirit, or wraith or something that actively hunted. He didn’t think it was an evil warlock or rogue wizard.


“That steals breath…” Elitheris said, softly, almost to herself.


“Some kind of cat?” Eykit wondered. “Aren’t they supposed to be able to steal your breath when you sleep?”


“Humph,” said the tavern keeper. “Hogwash. Old wives’ tale. This ain’t no cat. No parrot, neither.”


Almë asked him who and where the town alchemist and midwives were. The tavern keeper gave them the locations of both Hakna Bonesorrow and Kura Ashgalar.


The food came, and they ate.


Ruby tugged on the hem of the barmaid’s dress to get her attention. She told her that they were in town because they were interested in stopping the Breathstealer. She also asked if she knew anything about any of the victims.


“That’s good, because we are having a problem with it,” she replied.




“So, what is going on, exactly? From your perspective?” Ruby asked.


The barmaid sighed, shook her head. “I don’t know. Something—I don’t know what—is killing babies. Orc babies.”


“Do you know any of the families that lost babies?”


“Yeah. Mekuz and Chakub lost little Olgan. This was back in…” she counted on her fingers. “Warmbreeze 8.” That had been thirteen eightdays ago, or almost three months. “He was the first one the Breathstealer took.”


“And where did that happen?” Eykit asked.


“They live in the Hamlet of Dharg.” Upon seeing their questioning looks, she added, “It’s about a kilometer southward. A bit to the west, too. Small hamlet, only a few buildings.”


“The other death that we know about is also to the south, and apparently not too far from the Hamlet of Dharg,” Ruby said. “Is there some landscape feature down south? Like a swamp, a spooky forest, or circle of stones, or anything like that?”


“There are some rivers, and there is the wild jungle not very far south of the hamlet.”


“Do you know anything else about the area? Something only locals would know? Any haunted areas?”


“Well, up until recently, no. But now I’m not so sure. Obviously, some beastie is killing our babies.”




“So, a stray cat of some kind?” Almë quipped. “With hunting grounds to the south?”


The barmaid said, “That’s one of the rumors—well, some kind of creature.”


“Has anything else bad happened around there in the last few months?” Ruby asked. Something must have triggered the rogue beast, she thought. Or maybe it just wandered into the area for the first time? Woke it up? Summoned it?


The barmaid shook her head. “No, the area has basically been really nice. I mean, we are close to the jungle here, so livestock gets taken and killed, and sometimes we have to deal with griffins and stun lizards and the like. But nothing out of the ordinary.”


Almë remembered reading something about soul-stealing animals, but he couldn’t remember the details. He’d only glanced through the book anyway.


“Does anyone have cat allergies?”


The serving woman shook her head, a look of incredulousness on her face. “That would be really weird, actually. Allergic to cats? Hay fever I understand; I’ve seen it. Orcs don’t get allergies much.”


Orcs were definitely tough. If there was a race on the planet that was designed to survive, it was the Orcs. So the fact that their babies were dying spontaneously was really worrisome.


“So, should we visit the midwife, or one of the families?” Almë asked his companions.


“It’s getting pretty late,” Eykit said.


“But they are up pretty late,” Almë said. “Most folk here are Orcish.”


“They’re up overnight, aren’t they?” Elitheris mentioned.


Orcs were preferably nocturnal. Not all of them could be; things happened during the day that oftentimes they wanted to be a part of, so about a third of the Orcs in the area were up during daylight hours. They had to protect themselves from the sun, however, as they were extremely photosensitive. The sun hurt them, which was why, when they did go out under the big burning ball, that they wore hats, sunglasses, and clothing that covered their skin.


“So now would be the right time to visit them,” Elitheris.


“Ah, so this is exactly not a bad time, so we could visit,” Eykit mused. “And midwives are used to being called out at any hour.”


They left the tavern, Ruby quickly gulping down her second trencher of pottage. She winced, hating leaving the large piece of leftover bread. They noticed that there seemed to be more people on the street and the surrounding fields than there were during the day. Which made sense, once they thought about it. Most of the population was Orcish, so most of the population was active at night.


“Aren’t Elves sort of nocturnal, too?” Eykit asked.


“Yes,” Almë said.


“No,” Elitheris said. “Not this Elf. I’m up with the sun.”


“Elves often have all night long celebrations,” Almë said. “Weddings, births, general get togethers, parties because the stars are out. There is a reason the last hour of the day is ‘The Hour of Final Dancing’.”


“Well,” Elitheris said, “I haven’t had much cause to go to any weddings. I’ve been living in the jungle for the last few years.” No one bothered to mention that 80 years didn’t really qualify as “a few”.


They headed for the midwife; they had the directions to her house, and it was much closer than the families with the dead babies were.


Kura Ashgalar’s house was west two streets and north about halfway up the block. She had a wattle and daub house with a wood shingle roof, single story, but the slope of the roof implied a possible storage space. There were lanterns alight in the house, shining through the windows.


Ruby knocked on the door, her hand seeming very small indeed against the thick wooden door.


An Orc woman opened the door, and saw the crowded menagerie in her front yard. Her eyes widened in surprise, as obviously she hadn’t been expecting such a varied group of people and dogs.

Kura Ashgalar
“Hello!” Eykit said.


“Hello?” the Orc replied. “Which one of you is pregnant? Neither of you look pregnant. Must be early yet.”


The Hobbit spoke up. “Hi, I’m Ruby, and this is Elitheris, Eykit, Taid, and Almë. And Norolind and Mr. Wiggles. None of us are pregnant, by the way. That isn’t why we are here.”


Kura narrowed her eyes, but said, “Go on.”


“We are here because of the Breathstealer. We’re trying to stop it, whatever it is. We heard from folks at the Cracked Keg that there are several families that have lost children—babies—to it. We even know where two of them are, which is were we are headed eventually. But for now, we wanted to talk to you, the midwife. We figured that you would have the most information.”


Ruby was also suspicious of the midwife, although she kept that from showing in her expressions or tone. Kura had access to all of the babies. It was entirely possible that she was poisoning them or giving them a disease. Perhaps she was an evil witch, disguised as the friendly, neighborhood maternal health provider. She hadn’t mentioned this to anyone else; she was keeping her suspicions to herself. Besides, her current companions were naive, unused to the cut-throat political maneuverings that she was used to seeing. So it was entirely possible that none of the others had contemplated that the midwife could be the problem.


It was shortsightedness on their part, but they weren’t used to operating in a paranoid space. Which was good, for them, and likely healthier, from a mental standpoint. But someone had to be the one to think the worst of people. And she was likely the one with the most professional experience in that realm.


“Good!” Kura said, when the group’s mission was explained. “I’m glad someone is finally stepping up. Finally someone is trying to help us!”


“We need some more information.”


“Want to come in?” she asked, stepping back out of the doorway and inviting them in. Dogs can stay outside, though.”


Her house wasn’t big; a main room, with a pair of bedrooms and a small privy. Her furnishings were plain, except for some minimally carved scrollwork on the arms and legs, but well made.




An Orcish man was at a basin in the kitchen, washing dishes. They presumed he was her husband. He glanced over at them, and he seemed a little surprised that there were so many people in his house all of a sudden. The smells of an egg and bacon breakfast were still suffusing the room.


“I’m Kura,” she said, “and that’s my husband, Rend.” Rend waved a soapy hand when he heard his name, barely looking up from the breakfast dishes he was cleaning.


The great room took up about two thirds of the structure; the two bedrooms were on one side, with a narrow privy between them. They could see a window and a door on the back wall, leading out to the back yard. Almë wandered over there, looking out the window. He saw a little plot of land, furrowed, with rows of plants growing there. Most were herbs.


“Kura,” Almë said, “I’m a plant mage. Would you mind if I did some work in your garden? Is there anything you need right now?”


The midwife looked pleasantly surprised. “A plant mage? Way out here? What a nice surprise! Yeah. Go ahead. If you wouldn’t mind making the candaran grow a bit better, that’d be great.”


Candaran was a medicinal herb that, when the new leaves were made into a tea, acted as a stimulant and helped with fatigue. It grew as a low ground cover.


“Sure thing.” He went out the back door and out to the garden. He looked at the plants, and didn’t see anything out of place. He also looked for a flower to transplant into a flower pot. He wanted to put it inside the house. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of light inside the house; during the day they likely closed their drapes, and when they were awake, the light was only lamplight. Being Orcs, they didn’t need a lot of visible light anyway.


He wanted to use the spell Spy Blossom to eavesdrop on them after they left. Then he used the spell of Blessed Plants to improve the garden’s growth and yield. He was able to find a pot, and dug up one of the plants and put it in the pot. And then he used his Spy Blossom spell on it.


He spent some time getting reacquainted with gardening, and feeling the rich earth between his fingers. He did some weeding, and some modest pruning.




While Almë was outside, Ruby asked, “What do you know about the baby deaths?”


Kura sat down at the table. “I know quite a bit, but not enough. I’m the midwife for the area. Pretty much the only one, barring some occasional assistants. Mostly housewives with more desire to help than actual skill. So I was there when they were born, and shortly after every baby died.”


“Can you tell us where these babies were located?”


“I can.”


“Actually,” Eykit said, “learning about ones that have survived so far would be interesting as well.”


“Literally not all of the babies have turned blue, right?” Elitheris added.

Kura got a thoughtful look on her face. It seemed that Eykit, and Ruby, were trying to figure out what the commonalities are; if there were babies that were not affected, maybe there is something different about them.


“Of the area affected, all of the newborns are dead.”


“All Orc babies?” Eykit asked.


“No. It wasn’t just Orcs. It was at first, but there was one Human baby that died, too.”


“Wait, a Human baby? We thought it was just Orcs,” Taid said.


Eykit looked at him, saying, “Yeah, but that was just the town guard. He wouldn’t know.”


“Gael was the most recent victim. He died on Harvest 19. Almost three eightdays ago.”


“And where was it?” Ruby asked.


“The Hamlet of Horbog. West southwest of here, and about a kilometer and a half away.”


“And the other babies that died? Where did they die?”


Kura took a deep, almost shuddering breath. What had happened didn’t seem to sit well with her, and tears welled up in her eyes. But her determination and willpower kept them from doing anything more. She called off the names from memory, almost like a chant.


“Ulgan, son of Mekuz and Chakub, died on Warmbreeze 8. In the Hamlet of Dharg.
Ragash, daughter of Bagabug and Goroth Gruk, died on Warmbreeze 15. Also in the Hamlet of Dharg.
Tuka, daughter of Mormog and Názkûga Nampat. She died on Warmbreeze 26, in the steading of Ratlûg Bagul.
Ogrut, son of Ushak Dulug and Heddrak Arba, died on Warmbreeze 37. In the Hamlet of Azgrom.
Ukbûk, son of Durrot and Kardegh Horbog, died on Heatdaze 5. In the Hamlet of Horbog.
Bagga, daughter of Felgrat and Gubu Grom, died on Heatdaze 20. At the steading of Felgrat Grom.
Varkgorim, son of Pûg and Saga Ogthrak, died on Heatdaze 23. That was at the steading of Pûg Ogthrak.
Pergu, Ogrut’s twin and other son of Ushak and Heddrak, died on Heatdaze 33. Again, in the Hamlet of Azgrom. Losing both twins devastated Ushak, and she hasn’t been the same since.
Gael, son of Padraig and Maiwenn Malo, died on Harvest 19. In the Hamlet of Horbog.”


She also gave them directions on how to get to each location. All of them were south of Rhades, and all were between the two streams that passed on each side of the town.




“Hopefully they didn’t eat some bad melons,” Taid joked. Of course, it couldn’t have been Almë’s melons; this had been happening a lot longer than Almë’s melons had been around. But it was still amusing to tease the tall Elf about his nasty big ass juicy melons.




“All of the deaths have occurred to the south of the town. There is a Goblin baby up to the north that I am worried about as well, but so far, Ekkimi seems fine. Her mother, Rikkila, is very worried about her if the Breathstealer isn’t stopped.”


“And how old is this infant?” Eykit asked. He was protective of Goblin children, having grown up on the street. No child should have to suffer that. But the empathy he had to little kids extended past simple homelessness, and wasn’t limited to Goblins, either. When it came to children of all kinds, Eykit was just a big softie.


“Ekkimi is about three months old,” Kura replied.


“What’s the oldest infant that has died?”


“The oldest one might have been almost five months old.”


“So, under half a year, then.”


Kura nodded. “Whatever it is, it targets the most vulnerable.” She seemed angry and disgusted, as if it were the most dishonorable enemy one could fight.


“How have you tried to treat the babies?” Ruby asked.


“Various herbal remedies, teas, and tinctures. Cloths soaked in beneficial herbs laid over their faces to help them breathe. Expectorants, in case there was an obstruction in the airways. But there didn’t seem to be any obstructions. And none of my remedies worked.” Now the tears did fall. She wiped them with her sleeve, and almost angry gesture in its abruptness. “Healing potions seemed to help, but only worked for few days, and didn’t solve whatever the underlying problem is.”


“How is it when they get sick? How does it work? They are getting blue, and they can’t breathe. But how does it start, how does it go on, and how do they die?”


“They start off having trouble breathing, and panting a lot. Like the air they are breathing doesn’t work. Then they start turning blue, and then they just die.”


“Over what period of time? Minutes? Hours? Days?” Almë asked.


“Several days, occasionally as much as an eightday and a half. Basically, eight to twelve days between the first symptoms and death.”


“Do you know where they get their water supply from?” Ruby asked.


“Wells. There is one at every steading and hamlet. There are several here in town.”


“Different? Not just one well?”


“Multiple wells.”


Ruby asked if Kura had any children. She had, but they were all grown, and had families of their own. One was a tailor, and lived in Donnington. The other one fixed wagons in town.


“How do you get paid?” Ruby asked the midwife.


“Money, mostly. Sometimes I get paid in vegetables or livestock. Sometimes in trade for services, like fixing the roof.”


“And those kids in this area. What kind of area is this? Are there poor people, normal people, just farmers, rich people?”


“Just about everyone in the area are farmers, or people who support farmers. There aren’t very many rich people. There are a few rich families in town. But all of the people in the steadings and hamlets are all just farmers, most of them pretty poor.”


“Do you know what time the kids got sick? Is it on full moon, half moon, specific weather conditions or something?”


“The phase of the moon didn’t seem to have anything to do with the deaths. The weather was mostly warm to hot, occasional rain. And the kids died at all times during the day. It wasn’t just at night. So whatever is hunting them isn’t just nocturnal. Assuming there is only one. But there have only been deaths one at a time.”


“So one child got sick and die, and then the next one got sick and died?”


Kura thought about that for a moment. “Yes,” she said, “but there were some times where there was some overlap. Some of the kids started having symptoms before the previous one died.”


“Were they siblings, or were they living in the same house?”


“In one case there were twins, but they died on different eightdays. That family is just devastated. They lost both their babies.”


“How far apart?” Eykit asked.


“That was Ogrut and Pergu. They died about a month apart. Ushak’s kids. She’s young, and only 23. She hasn’t recovered and spends most of her time in bed.”


“How long are the kids sick? Are they sick for a specific number of days?”


“No, it seems to vary. But it seems to be between eight to twelve days.” Kura’s husband placed a mug of mead in front of his wife. She gazed up at him thankfully. She’d been talking a lot. She took a long drink.


“Do they get worse in steps, or just gradually over time?”


“It seemed to get worse pretty consistently. So, yes, they steadily got worse. From what I could tell.” Kura hadn’t been with a specific baby the whole time; she had come and gone. But from what the parents of the babies had told her, there didn’t seem to be any spiking of symptoms. It seemed like a steady decline. Whatever it was seemed like a constant, low level draining of life.


“Do any of the families have anything in common? Like the same boss, or the same work, or the same tavern? Something they have in common?”


“They don’t have the same boss, because they are pretty spread out. And they all have different foremen. Some are the local bosses. And there is only one tavern in town. The Cracked Keg. Although some people brew their own beer, and sell it out of their houses. Usually when they have more than they can drink in the next few days. Better to sell it than to let it go to waste.”


Elitheris asked a question. “Are they all in the same industry?”


“They are all pretty much farmers.”


“Are they farming the same crop?”


“I don’t think so,” Kura replied, “they are farming all kinds of different crops. Mostly grains, I suppose.”


“Do they all use the same fertilizer?”


“No, but there was a fertilizer mine…a bat cave…that was found a little while ago. To get the guano, and that’s been fertilizing our fields.”


“So when you say ‘not the same fertilizer’, what do you mean?”


“Not everybody uses it.”


“But?”


“But most people are. It’s convenient and easy.”


Is this something they recently started using?”


“About six months ago, maybe?”


“Bat guano,” Elitheris said.


“Bingo,” Ruby agreed.


“They found this bat cave about mid Latespring.” Latespring was the month before Warmbreeze, which was the month the babies started dying.


“Oh!” Almë exclaimed, “The bat cave! Someone mentioned that to us before.”


“I think we need to investigate the bat cave,” Elitheris stated.


“Is there a child sick right now?” Ruby asked.


“Yes.”


“Where is it? We’d like to visit the family.”


“You want to visit the family, huh? Well, okay. He’s very sick. Bolar is Ugluk and Otha Almurg’s child. They live at the steading of Felgrat Grom.” She gave them directions to Felgrat’s steading.


Almë came in from the garden, holding the candaran plant he had transplanted into a pot. “Here you go,” he said to Kura. “I’ve blessed this plant, and your whole herb garden.” The candaran sported tiny pale blue flowers that were almost white.


“Thank you,” she replied, taking the pot from the Elf. “Is it safe for me to put this—“


“Yes, put it in the window so it gets enough light. You’ll need to water it a bit more often, so keep it in the house and water it.”


“Glad to know that. Thank you very much. I imagine you’re pretty handy to have around.”


Almë grinned, enjoying having his ego stroked.


They had no more questions for the midwife, so they thanked Kura and Rend for their hospitality and left. Their next stop was Felgrat’s steading.



They walked down the street to the corner where the Main Street intersected it. Almë wanted to listen to his plant, and see if the midwife said anything questionable. Ruby, too, expressed her suspicion of the midwife.


Eykit cocked his head, frowning. He hadn’t noticed anything strange or suspicious about Kura; she definitely seemed distraught that the babies were dying. But he shrugged, and let it go.


“I think the midwife is a little bit suspicious,” Ruby said. “It’s good we have an eye on her. She’s close to all of the babies, and tried to treat them, so maybe we just not focus on her, but keep an eye on her.”


“Fair enough,” Elitheris said.


“All right,” Taid said as well.


Almë listened to what his plant spy heard. “Well, that was strange,” Kura said to her husband. “But hopefully they can do something about it.” Other than that, she didn’t say anything out of the ordinary.


“Did she mention how weird we must seem?” Eykit asked. “Two Elves, a Dwarf, a Goblin, and a Hobbit? And two dogs.”


“Only that the whole situation was strange.”


“All we are missing is a Human, Skyfolk, and and Orc. We are our own parade!”


They headed southwards, towards where they were told Felgrat Grom’s steading was.


Almë eavesdropped for another few minutes, although the ensorcelled flower was also sending visual and olfactory information as well. Almë could see, hear, and smell what was happening in Kura’s kitchen.


He saw Kura’s husband walk over to her, and put his arms around her as she sat at the table. He just held her as she sobbed, the floodgates finally allowed to open now that the odd group of strangers were gone.


Almë almost stumbled on a raised tree root; his visual field was obscured by that of the flower he was using to spy on Kura. Fortunately, he didn’t trip, catching himself handily.


After a short while, Kura wiped her face of tears, then stood and helped her husband with the dishes. She dried the dishes as her husband washed them. “They were a strange bunch,” she said, “but I’m hoping they can help out. And that they are actually going to do something about this. I’m at my wit’s end. I’ve got no idea what’s causing it. And if they can kill whatever is that killing these kids, that would be really great.”


“She seems to be all right,” Almë told the others.


“Good to not just go in there with the staff,” Eykit said. “Or choke out the people we are trying to question.”


“Well, this time I used a plant spell.”


They walked on for a while, following the cart tracks between the fields. As the night wore on, they started seeing more and more Orcs working in the fields.


“Hey,” Eykit said. “You think someone might be targeting Orcs specifically?”


“Lennerd seemed to have a bug up his butt about them,” Taid mentioned.


“And Orcs can be rather intolerant of non-Orcs,” Eykit admitted. “At least until they get to know you.”


The Tondene Empire had always been broad-minded about the different races that made up their population. They had worked very hard, ever since the beginning, of trying to emphasize that they valued everyone, no matter how pointy their ears were, or whether they had tusks or facial hair. And after 800 or so years of beating it into everyone’s head, they had made some progress.


There was no institutionalized racism, but there were still racists. That, unfortunately, was inevitable. The population was too varied to not have individuals who valued some people more than others.


Elves tended to not fully value what they called “ephemerals”. Those were people with, to them, extremely short lifespans. It’s often difficult to take a person seriously who is there one moment, and only a vague memory the next. To the so-called ephemerals, Elves seemed out of touch, and lousy friends unless they were there with you. If an Elf wandered off on their own business, it might be decades before they visited again. The Elf wouldn’t notice the passage of a mere several decades, but that was an entire lifetime to all of the other species. Goblins rarely lived longer than forty or fifty years, and the Aarakocra rarely lived past thirty.


Dwarves tended to not like non-Dwarves in their under cities. They were polyandric, which was strange from the other races’ points of view, because most species tended towards monogamy. Dwarves didn’t have that luxury, since only about a quarter of their population was female. And it was a luxury; only the rarest of Dwarven men got to have a wife all to themselves. It was considered one of the most selfish things a person could do.


Orcs tended to think the other races were weak, with the exception of the Dwarves, who were almost as resilient as Orcs. Orcs also were rather intolerant of others because most of those others considered Orcs to be stupid and bestial. Some of that was deserved, since Orcs tended to be the most emotional of the races. They fought hard, played hard, and loved hard.


And just about everyone made the mistake of assuming that the Aarakocra were simpletons. They weren’t. They just had a very different culture that valued things differently. They were pretty naive, and because they didn’t require a lot of the luxuries that the other races had gotten used to, people just assumed that since they lived like simple hunter/gatherers, that’s all they were. It didn’t help that Aarakocra didn’t really have a sense of property ownership. They shared everything; if someone wasn’t using something, they saw no problem in using it themselves. It got them into trouble all of the time, and most people thought they were thieves.


And Goblins had the problem with the rumors of cannibalism. Their sharp teeth didn’t disavow them of this reputation, either. And neither did cults of Kalshebba, who was the goddess of food and drink, and not just cannibalism, although the cannibalism myths surrounding her were colorful indeed.


Even Humans occasionally had reputation problems, with many people thinking that Humans were all social climbers who were only interested in power. They weren’t particularly good at any one thing, but they were certainly capable generalists who could fit themselves into almost any job or role. That flexibility was often considered a threat. And Humans were very good at taking over large swaths of land, economic opportunities, and power structures. They were everywhere, and often could outcompete just about anyone else. Not by being better, but by not being worse. They could be good at anything.


Racism wasn’t gone, no matter what the official line of the Empire was. People were people, and there would always be in-groups and out-groups.


“With the blue babies thing, if someone is deliberately targeting Orcs, is there the possibility that this is racially motivated?” Eykit asked.


“Maybe the Orc babies are more juicy!” Almë said, grinning.


“Not funny, beanpole!” Eykit said. Being a civilized Goblin, he didn’t like any references to eating sentients. “Maybe they are focusing on an area that is predominantly Orcish, and if some Humans just happen to be in the crossfire, so be it. Whatever. But they are targeting newborn Orcs to strike fear into their hearts, or to stunt the growth of their population, or whatever.”


It didn’t take them long to get to Felgrat Grom’s. It was a large house, with an attached barn that was large enough for a cart and two horses, although only one horse was in the barn. The other stall was empty, and looks like it had been for a while. The house and barn were made of wooden planks, with a wood shingle roof. The whole thing was painted a faded red, with whitewashed trim. Oil lamps were lit in the rooms, the light visible through the oiled paper windows.


They could also see that the iron plow sitting just inside the open barn door had traces for two animals, not just one. At some point, it looks like the second horse was lost somehow.


They knocked on the door. It was opened by a young female Orc, holding a baby in her arms. She was maybe nineteen years old, with long black hair, bloodshot, tired-looking, hazel eyes, and delicate tusks, She wore a simple farmer’s dress, with an apron. Her skin was a beautiful dark brown color.

Otha Almurg
This was contrasted by the infant in her arms, whose skin, while brown, had a distinct bluish cast to it. At the moment, the baby was panting, and having trouble breathing.


Ruby introduced herself, and was followed by everyone else giving their names. “We are here to investigate the Breathstealer, and hopefully help.”


“I’m Otha,” the Orc woman asked, hope lighting up her face. “This is Bolar.” She indicated her baby. “Are you healers?”


“No, we are not.” The look of hope fell from the young woman’s face. “But, I am a mage. Maybe I can help.”


“Well, that would be good. Please help.” She held out her baby, as if saying “fix him”. The baby coughed, and panted, a slight wheeze in its breathing.


Ruby cast the spell of Countering. She didn’t expect it to work; countering a spell requires knowledge of not only on how to counter spells in general, but also requires knowing the details of countered spell, in order to unravel it. And the only way to know those details is to actually know the spell.


Ruby knew a lot of spells, many of which could, in theory, cause similar symptoms as whatever was causing the poor little ones to turn blue. So she took a chance, expecting nothing to happen.


And almost nothing did. But as she subconsciously felt the tendrils of mana encompassing the baby like fingers, she realized that whatever it was that was affecting the baby wasn’t any spell she had heard of. She got the impression that it wasn’t a spell at all, but more likely some magical effect, like the madness of a lunefish, or the mental blast of a stun lizard.


Magic use evolved in many of the animals of Velyri. While explicit magic manifested mostly as spell casting ability in sentients, many creatures and plants had instinctual abilities. Many were subtle, and not even recognizable as “magic”; it was just how they were. A snapweed’s noise was just loud; a mantrap plant was just a plant with mobile stems and leaves.


“I tried something,” Ruby told Otha. “It told me that what is affecting Bolar is not a spell. So we can rule out evil wizards and witches. Now, have you been using the fertilizer? The guano from that mine?”


“And how long have you been using it,” Eykit added.


Otha’s face creased in a frown as she thought. “A couple months?”


Bolar looked to be about four months old. He had been born before the fertilizer was used.


“So the baby was healthy,” Eykit said, “then you started using the fertilizer, and the baby got sick.”


Otha’s eyes widened. “Yes!” Could the fertilizer be poisonous? “But Bolar hasn’t been near the fertilizer.” Now she was confused. She didn’t understand how Bolar could be affected, he hadn’t touched the fertilizer, and none of the crops from the fertilized fields had been harvested and eaten yet. Most of the guano had been spread on fields after this years’ harvest, for next seasons’ plantings.


“How is the fertilizer being spread?” Eykit asked. “Skyfolk carrying it around and dropping it from on high? Maybe they eat the bat poop and fart it out all over the fields.”


Otha laughed. The image of the skyfolk dumping bat shit from the air amused her. Then she thought about hundreds of Aarakocra pooping on the fields, which amused her even more. “No,” she said, between deep throated laughs that, she realized, she needed. She hadn’t laughed in a weeks. “Wagons and shovels and a lot of hard work.”


Ruby thought of another trick to try. She cast the spell of Lend Energy, which would allow her to give the infant some of her own energy. She hoped that maybe then the baby wouldn’t be so exhausted and be able to breathe easier.


It seemed to work. The baby did seem to be breathing easier.


Eykit reached into his pack, and pulled out a small vial. It was a healing potion. He thought it was a good idea to give Otha the potion if she needed it. She could give it to Bolar if he started to become too sick, and maybe it would keep him alive longer. “Here,” he said, “take this healing potion. You can give it to your baby if you think he needs it. Might at least buy him some time.” He had a big soft spot in his heart for kids and babies. They were the only things that somehow managed to bypass the greed center in his brain.


Bolar was, as far as they and the midwife knew, the only baby that was sick at the moment. So he was the one in the gravest danger. And they were just beginning to investigate the problem. They didn’t know where their path would take them, and they didn’t want the baby to die while they were off hunting down the beastie.


Almë said, “We can heal the baby as well, with the extra stamina and the backup healing potion, that should buy us several days.” He hoped.


Elitheris cast a spell of Healing, and magical energies flowed through her fingertips into the baby. The discoloration of the baby’s skin faded a bit, turning more brownish, and losing the underlying bluish-purple hue.


Bolar started crying. “Hush,” Otha said, rocking him. The baby pawed at her, his little hands bunched up into fists. She pulled out a breast, and he latched on, sucking greedily.


His breathing difficulties had made feeding problematic, but now that his problem had been alleviated, however temporarily, he was trying to make up for lost time. Otha looked down at her son, sucking away. “This is the best he’s eaten in a while. Because of the whole…thing…he’d eat for a while, then stop to breathe, then eat again.”


“This is now our goal, this child,” Eykit said. “We need to keep him alive.”


“Thank you,” Otha said, tears in her eyes. “He looks better than he has in days.”


“This isn’t a cure, but it’s at least a temporary solution.” If it had only taken a healing potion to cure, the Breathstealer wouldn’t be a problem.


“Thanks,” she said again. “The town’s alchemist ran out of healing potions a while ago, and it’s the only thing she’s been making since.”


“We are all on your side.” Eykit said. “We are trying to keep your child alive, for you. And figure out what’s going on.”


“Then I hope you figure it out. And soon.”


“So any help that you can give us as far as information would be helpful. But we want your son to live.”


“Then ask. I’ll tell you anything you need to know.” She paused, then added, “That I know, anyway.”


“How long have you lived here?”


“My whole life.”


“In this house?”


“In this house, yes. Nineteen years.”



“What about your husband?”


“Ugluk? He’s twenty two, from across the county. A more northern steading.”


“Any problems from his home town?”


Otha smiled, embarrassed that she had misled the Goblin with her answer. “Oh, his home town is Rhades! He’s just from a steading to the north of the town.”


“But no reports of issues from his family? As far as the blue babies?”


“Not that I’ve heard. The problem seems to be around here.” She used one arm to gesture around the area.


“Have you thought about relocating to their area?” Eykit asked.


“Thought about it, but this is our home.”


“Understood.”


“Can’t afford to move to another house.”


“And this is where your livelihood is. So, okay.” Eykit knew that street urchins like himself moved to wherever they needed to. People tied to the land didn’t always have that ability.


“These are the fields we are used to tilling, and this is where we live. We thought about leaving for a while, but there is just too much to do during harvest.”


“We can relocate all of them!” Almë said. “To our fucking farmland! They’ll be safe from the bat poop!”


“We will employ all of you!” Elitheris said, sarcastically.


“The baby’s never been near the bat poop,” Otha said.


“Well, that we know of,” Eykit said.


“Maybe your baby hasn’t, but what does your husband do?”


“Farms. Out in the fields. With…the bat poop.” Otha didn’t like where this was going. Could Ugluk be poisoning their child?


“Exactly,” Elitheris said.


“So he’s touching it, he’s bringing it home,” Eykit said.


“Or it’s in the food.”


“Maybe we can offer her the option, because the child is sick, maybe she can—“ Ruby started to say.


“Yeah!” Almë interrupted. “They can live at our place and he can rebuild one of the farmer houses. And they can live there, for free.” He seemed very excited about the idea.


“Yes, we can offer that,” Ruby said.




“Maybe if we figure out the solution, they will be ingratiated to us, meaning that they feel like they owe us…” Eykit mused.


“Yes, but also we could save them right away,” Almë said.


“We can move them,” Ruby said.


“The question is,” Elitheris asked, “would removing the baby from the area change anything at all? Or is it too late already?”


“We can try!” Ruby said.


Almë spoke up. “Also Eykit can write a letter so if it gets worse and we’re not back yet they can go to the New Square Skulls to the healer guy. He could heal the baby or whatever.”


Eykit thought Almë was being a bit free with thieves’ guild resources he had no claim to, but he’d do it anyway. The worst thing that would happen would be his guild would say no. “Or our own alchemist dude in the basement.”


“Yes!” Ruby exclaimed.

“He can make healing potions for as long as we need him to.” Well, for a price. Discounted, of course. “It’s what he does. And he seems to be having a lot of fun doing it, too. Looks boring as hell to me, but he seems to really like it in there.”

Eykit rubbed his chin. “Well, we can definitely offer it to them.” He turned to Otha, who had seemingly gotten a bit confused as the people on her front porch spoke rapidly about things she didn’t understand. “We don’t know if what your husband works with everyday is part of the problem. And maybe getting all of you out of the area might save your baby’s life. The entire area south of the town might be the problem.”

Ruby said, “May we come in?”

Otha nodded, and moved out of the doorway, allowing them entrance. Ruby took Otha’s strong arm in her tiny hand, and tugged her towards the chairs in the living room, sitting her down in one before taking another, turning it to face her.


Ruby told Otha about Sairina Tarwar Manor, about how it was neglected for a long time, and that it’s now under new management. She told her about how they needed people to work on it with them. She also said that she thought that the problem was the bat guano. It seemed to be the common factor in all of the deaths, and the area in which the deaths happened all seemed to be using the fertilizer.


She actually didn’t know this for a fact; she and her companions had pieced it together from what the guard, tavern keeper, and midwife had told them. But it made sense. If the bat guano had some kind of poison in it, then it might only affect the weakest members of the community.


Elitheris knew a bit about poisons, but this one she’d never heard of. It was new to her. Whatever it was, it must be a pretty weak toxin to only affect newborns, especially if the farm hands were getting such a much larger dose of it. And the baby had never touched it. Something didn’t add up. But she held off mentioning that, for the moment.


Ruby was still talking to Otha. “You’ll need to work at the Manor, but you can stay there, for free, harvest what you need, and also get paid for the time you work. We also have access to an alchemist.”


Otha moved Bolar over to her other breast.


“Talk to your husband, and see what he thinks. The offer is there, in case you want to take advantage of it and move to a different manor. And get your baby away from the possible threat.”


“You’ve got the only newborn who’s having problems,” Eykit said. “And we don’t want it to get any worse.” He thought of something else to ask her. “Are there any pregnant women in the local area at the moment?”


“I don’t think so,” the young Orc mother replied. “I don’ know of any.”


Almë hoped that she, and her husband, would take the offer. He wanted a work force for the manor.


“What’s the situation here, on the farm?” Ruby asked Otha. “It’s you, the baby, and your husband. Are there other people here who can take care of the farm? While you, the baby, and your husband are gone?”


“There are nine of us here, actually. There are two families that live here in the house, one on each end. We share the common areas, like this room and the kitchen. Felgrat and Gubu live on that side,” she indicated with a finger. “Their kids are Akoth and Feldûsh. Bagga, their baby, died several eightdays ago. Ugluk and me, and little Bolar here, live on that side. Along with Quinten and Jokise. They share the other bedroom on that side.”




Felgrat Steading, and the nine people who lived in it, were part of the barony that was run by Baronet Felson Undrite. He technically owned the steading, and the lands around it. Everyone living in the house were tenant farmers, given the house to live in and a food allotment, in exchange for some of the agricultural products and the taxes owed to the Baronet.


The farmers were able to make a small profit on their labors. Most of the money made at harvest went for next year’s seed, labor costs, maintenance costs for tools and structures, mage fees, payment for the Baronet, and taxes to the Empire. What little was left went into their pockets, although it wasn’t much.


“I’m wondering,” Eykit said, “if Baronet Unwrite is hiding something, using the bat poop as a scapegoat. Maybe he brought in the bat poop.”


“Is there somebody that works on the farm who’s moving between the houses?” Almë asked. “Somebody who works there and then is at this house for a while?”




“No,” Otha said. “It’s not like that. There are drayage companies that move around, but they don’t stay overnight or anything. We put all the harvest on the wagons, and then they go wherever wagons go. To the mills, or markets, or the city.”


“Are they coming in and doing that and staying for a few days or something?”


“Mostly they come in the morning, we load up the wagons, and they leave in the afternoon when they are full, or however fast we fill them.”


Almë looked around at his companions. “Do we know where the bat cave even is?”


“Uh, no,” Eykit said. “No one has asked.”


“Okay,” Almë turned back to Otha. “Where is this bat cave?”


Otha shrugged. “I don’t know. Not far, I think. Somewhere to the south of here. And about your offer: I’ll need to talk to my husband before we make any move.” Otha seemed sincerely interested in getting her baby away from whatever was causing it to turn blue.


Elitheris had noticed a pile of red, blue, yellow, and green feathers by one corner of the house. They looked like parrot feathers. They were a common enough bird around the area, but she had never really seen a pile of the feathers before. They were blowing away in the light breeze that gusted every now and then.


Eykit had noticed it too, but he wasn’t used to the rural habits, so he assumed it was normal. Perhaps a cat had gotten one for dinner.


Elitheris asked, “Uh, excuse me, where did those feathers come from?” She pointed at the corner of the house where the feathers were strewn on the other side of the wall.


“Oh, the pile out there?” She shrugged. “The kids have been capturing parrots and pulling their feathers off.”


“Parrots?”


“Yeah.”


Eykit looked aghast. “Plucking them off of them?”


“Yeah, killing them and plucking their feathers off.”


“Killing the parrots?” Elitheris asked. She was as shocked as Eykit. “Why?”


“Wait a minute!” Ruby interjected. She loved animals, and she didn’t like any kind of animal cruelty. It was why she was vegetarian.


“Were they eating the parrots?” Eykit asked. He’d had parrot. It tasted like chicken, if a bit gamier.


“Do you eat these birds, or is this just something the kids do for fun?” Elitheris asked. Parrots weren’t terribly different from chickens, after all. Prettier, maybe, and likely scrawnier.


“No, no,” Otha replied, “it’s because parrots eat souls, and so they were thinking they were trying to save the baby.”


“Oh gods, okay,” Eykit said.


“Oh boy,” Elitheris said.


Almë remembered something that he had read in a book of fables that he had found in Herbert’s study. He told them the fable.


Once upon a time, the colorful parrots were silent. They had no voices, unlike all of the other birds in the jungle. They could hear the beautiful cries of the other birds singing to one another, and felt very sad that they could not join in. Their gift had been their colorful feathers, which was more beautiful than any of the other birds, who were drab in comparison. Their raiment was glorious, and while other birds were envious, the parrots didn’t think it was enough.


One parrot devised a plan to steal the songs of the other birds, so that the parrots could sound like any bird they wanted. She took stalks from the tendril fungus to catch the birdsong, seeds from the bloodtree to drain the birdsong out of them, and leaves from the trapping plant to imprison the birdsong, and wove them into a spell. She then cast this spell on the whole jungle, and the enchantment spread like a wave on a pond. But there were more than just birds in the jungle, so the spell was cast on all of the animals in the jungle. All of the animals that felt this wave shuddered as they felt their souls shaken, and a small part of it removed.


And parrots gained their voices. But not having been born with them, they didn’t know how to use those voices, and so they had to learn, and this took time. More time than many parrots had, so not all of them were able to speak like the other birds. But some could learn, and they were able to sound like other birds, or antelope, or cats, or lizards. Some could even sound like the two legged animals that used sticks and stones.


Because they could sound like other animals, parrots were coveted by the Two-legs. They put them in cages, and made them say the things they wanted them to say. Some think that this was punishment by the gods for stealing the voices.


And that is why parrots can speak.


“So when they see a parrot, they kill it?” Ruby asked.


“Yes, whenever they see a parrot they kill it, because it’s trying to suck out the soul of the baby. They want to save the baby.”


But parrots sucking out the souls of the living was just a fable. Elitheris had never heard of parrots sucking out souls, but she wasn’t very conversant with ephemeral myths. She hadn’t really been interacting with them too much, until recently.




Almë brought the conversation back to the bat cave. “Do you know anyone who knows where the cave is?”


“I think my husband knows. And some of the other local farmers know.”


“When will he be back?” Ruby asked.


“He’s out in the fields. Not too far, if you want to go ask him.”


“What was his name, again?” Almë asked.


“Ugluk.”


They left Otha, reminding her that the offer still stood, and that she would be welcome at their new manor. It was fully night, the sun long gone, and barely a lightened area in the western sky. The stars were out, as was the remaining moon, Kynet. High altitude clouds moved slowly from west to east, filmy veils that obscured the bright stars but turned the moon into a fuzzy blob.


Almë and Elitheris both remembered that for years after it exploded, Jypra, or Calinorië in Quenya, had also appeared as a fuzzy blob, slowly dissipating over the years until it was impossible to see any remnants at all. The past seventy or so years had seen a marked increase in falling stars, however.


Of the five of them, everyone but Ruby could navigate fairly easily in the dark. To Ruby, however, the scant moonlight illuminated the wide open spaces of the roads, tracks, and fields, but the shadowed areas near buildings or under trees were impenetrable voids. Fortunately, she knew the others could see at least fairly well; the Goblin and Dwarf the most easily.


They could see figures moving in the nearby barley field. As they approached more closely, they could see teams of people, some scything, some bundling, and some tying and stacking the sheaves. It looked efficient, tidy, and practiced.


Scanning the workers, they saw a young Orc about the same age as Otha, working with a Human, who was gathering the stalks, and a Goblin, who was bundling and tying them into sheaves. The Human seemed to do all right using only the moonlight, but he wouldn’t have been able to use the scythe in the dark. Not and be safe.


Eykit noticed how fast the Goblin’s hands were as he whipped a stalk around the sheaf of stems, tying it into a quick knot before doing it again to another sheaf. Man, he thought, that guy has really quick hands. He could pick pockets really well with those. He watched his potential protégé work, imagining the coins and jewelry that would be lifted from unsuspecting passersby. Part of him sort of missed the teamwork of a pickpocketing team. Not much of him, granted, but a small, nostalgic part.


Joelle, the “Bump”, was a marvel at distractions. The “Dip” was the one who actually did the pickpocketing. That had been Eykit’s job, before he “graduated” to second story work. The “Bag” was the person who received the stolen goods moments after they had been filched, in order to give the dip the ability to legitimately say “I don’t have your stuff, here, search me.” Meanwhile the bag disappeared into the crowd, nonchalantly walking away on their own business.


They figured that the burly Orc swinging the scythe in smooth, even motions must be Ugluk. They watched him work for a little while. He’d cut down his two and a half meter wide section, and every few minutes he’d pause, take out a whetstone, and run it along the blade a few times. Just to keep it honed. Then he’d do another several meters of this track. There were two people using scythes, offset by about three meters to prevent them from accidentally cutting each other’s legs off. Staggering the workers kept them out of each other’s way.


“Hey, Ugluk!” Almë said, one farmer to another. “How’s it going?”


“Hullo,” the Orc said back, not turning his head, focused on the stalks ahead of him. He didn’t pause in his cutting work.


“We just finished a nice chat with your wife, and we are trying to save your baby. We made him better, but we couldn’t completely heal him. But we are trying to get to the root of the problem. And to do that, we need to know where the bat cave is.”


As Almë was telling him this, he stopped harvesting. “Ah! The fertilizer! The cave with the fertilizer in it. I know where that is!” Then he gave them directions. “You take that cart track south, past the lavender field, then take the trail between the unharvested corn and the pumpkin field, then go right when you get to the beans. Follow the edge of that field around to where the trail would have emerged had it gone straight through the beans, then take the more southerly track until you get to a field with some carrots in it. You should see them. Big crane, and wagons.”


Eykit also wanted to know where the baronet lived. Somewhere in his barony he had a house.


Ugluk held up an arm, pointing out in a northerly direction, then he rotated it to the east. “Ummmm, over that way, somewhere. I don’t get out that far way usually.”


“Thanks, we’ll need to talk to him eventually.”


“We are thinking,” Almë said, “that the problem is a local thing, centered somewhere in this area. Since we are worried about the baby, we have offered our home, a manor closer to Port Karn, where you and your family could move. You can renovate one of the farm houses. We have food there, and we have contacts in the city in case you need a healer. So, if you want, you can move there, and stay there. Until we figure this out and solve the Breathstealer problem.”


“You should speak to your wife about it,” he continued. “If you decide tonight, you can meet us at the inn in the morning and we can figure out more.”


Ruby added, “And you can bring whoever you want.” The Human glanced at the Goblin and nodded. It seemed as if they might be interested as well.


It wasn’t a bad idea; they would still have jobs, they’d still be working the land, they’d have lodging. They’d be closer to Port Karn, with all the markets that provided, as well as access to specialty goods and services that were simply not available in a smaller town.


“And if you do a good job, there might be better job offers in the future,” Ruby mentioned.


“We are just starting to build this place up,” Eykit said, “so we are looking for people that are reliable and trustworthy.”


“You guys are manor house owners?” Ugluk asked, finally getting a word in edgewise. They didn’t look like the owner class. Certainly didn’t dress like it, except maybe the Hobbit, although she rode a big dog, so who really knew? He’d never heard of any nobles riding dogs. It was all purebred horses of exacting lineages and fine breeding. Not monstrous mutts with slobbering issues. “I will talk to my wife.”


“We’ve got Essential earth in our fields,” Almë said.


“And peaches!” added Eykit. “And big ass juicy honey melons!” He followed that with a yawn. It had been a long day.


The cave could wait until morning; they headed back to the inn, and their rooms.


It didn’t take long to get back to town. When they got to the main street, they saw an Orc kid running pell mell down the street towards them. He looked terrified. As he got closer, they could hear him crying, “I saw it! I saw the wraith! I saw the wraith!” He appeared about twelve, although he was a big, strapping lad. At twelve, he was likely already working in the fields, at least at the sowing and harvest seasons.


Hearing this, the people in the street panicked, running into buildings and shutting doors behind them. Parents screamed for their children, trying to get them corralled before the wraith got them.


Eykit ran up to the kid. “It’s okay, it’s okay!”


“We’ve got this under control, people of Rhades!” Almë yelled helpfully, knowing they had nothing at all under control.


“It’s okay!” Eykit said again to the kid. “Tell us what you saw.”



“It—it looked like a glowing light! It was floating!”

“Where?”


The kid snuffled, and pointed back the way he came. “About three blocks that way! And then a block over!”


“Was it someone’s house?”


“Yeah.”


“Whose house?”


“I don’t know who lives there. Some old guy.”


“Where was it?” Ruby asked.


“In his front yard!”


Eykit asked, “Can you describe the house?”


Ruby hopped on her dog. Norolind, even carrying her, could be faster than she was on foot.


The kid pointed at a couple of houses. “It looked a lot like this one, or that one.” Both of the houses were ordinary peasant dwellings, made of wattle and daub with a thatched roof. They were single story structures, with small yards in front.


“Is there any way you can tell us what the place looked like without you needing to go there with us?” Eykit asked the terrified youngster.


“Uh yeah, it looked like a house, with red painted shutters on it, and there were two trees in the front yard.”


“And you said it was this way?” Eykit asked, pointing down the street in the direction that the kid had run from.


“Three blocks this way, one block that way,” said the child, pointing in turn. “Red shutters, two trees in the front yard.”


“Okay. If we have any questions, we’ll come back. Alright! Good,” Eykit said. “You go get inside. Stay safe.”


“Okay.” The kid wiped his nose on his sleeve. Then he ran to the nearest building, a chandlery, and pounded on the door. The residents opened it, and he went inside, despite the owners’ look of shock and disbelief.


Eykit relayed the directions and description of the house to the rest of his companions, just in case they hadn’t heard the Orc child.


Almë cast the spell of Haste upon Norolind, to make him faster. She took off, out running everyone else, who were on foot. They jogged after the dog, who rapidly outpaced them.


They turned the corner, and Norolind ran up the side street, and Ruby saw very quickly the house that the kid had described. Like the other houses, this one was small, wattle and daub, with a thatch roof. In addition to the trees, there was a shrubbery growing next to the tree on the right side of the yard.


The shrub had a lot of tiny, wispy blue flowers all over it. There was an oil lantern hanging from the branches of the tree above it, providing a bit of illumination for the street. The light shone onto the flowers.


Behind her, she could see her companions finally coming around the corner, heading her way. She waited for them. Looking at the house in front of her, she could see that there were lamps lit inside. She could also see footprints at the base of the tree.


Everyone else arrived. No one saw anything out of the ordinary.


Ruby hopped off Norrie. He parked himself on the weedy, sparse lawn, a large black lump in the night. The space in front of the whitewashed cottage with red shutters was not large; Norolind, stretched out, could almost touch both the street and the row of shrubs planted just in front of the front wall of the house. She walked up to the sturdy wooden door and rapped on it with her knuckles.


An old Orc opened the door. He was missing a tusk, and his hair and unkempt beard were white. His rich brown skin was wrinkled with age, but his amber eyes were clear and bright. He wore simple homespun garments; old, but clean and well cared-for. He seemed to be the only inhabitant of the house.


“Hello, is everything okay?” Ruby asked him.


“What?” the old man said, putting a hand cupped at his ear.


“I said,” Ruby said more loudly, “Is everything okay?”


“As far as I know, everything is fine.”


Eykit described the child to the old Orc. “Do you know who this is? Is he yours? Son? Grandson? You know him?”


“Yeah, I know of him. He’s a neighborhood kid.”


“Ah, neighborhood kid. Okay. Does he have delusions?” Eykit spun a finger at the side of his head. “Is he totally doo-la-loo?”


The old man frowned in confusion. Why were these strange people asking him these sorts of questions? “Nah. But he can’t see too well.”


“Oh, really?”


“Sometimes he runs into things.”


“Oh-kay.”


Eykit wanted to knock on the doors of the houses up and down the street, to see if anyone could corroborate the kid’s story. He made a circuit around the small peasant house, just to be sure that there was nothing hiding around back. He didn’t find anything besides a hammock in the back, stretched out between a tree and a post pounded into the ground.


Ruby asked the Orc, “Have you seen anything magical or suspicious?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Ruby could tell he was sincere.
Whatever the kid saw, it was gone now. They went back to where the kid had run into the chandlery. No one was in the front part of the building. They entered, following after the kid. Candles hung on racks, and pillar candles were stacked on tables in pyramids of wax and tallow. The place was filled with the smell of scented candles. Along the back wall were shelves with various kinds of candlesticks, candle holders, and other candle-related items.
Eykit looked around the unlit shop; the only thing of value were some beeswax candles. “Hello? Anyone here?” His hand crept out, apparently of its own volition, and snitched some beeswax candles, pocketing them. It was an empty storefront. He had to take something. It was a professional courtesy.


A voice came back from the back. “Yeah! We’re here!”


Eykit peered around a rack of hanging candles. At the back of the storefront, he could see a door. It was cracked open, and two heads peeked out, one on top of the other. One was a man, presumably the owner. The other was the kid.


“Hey, so glad to see you!” Eykit exclaimed.


“Is it safe?” the kid asked.


“Yeah, as far as we could tell, it was never not safe. It’s all good.”


The kid walked out, brushing up against candles, which swayed back and forth after his passage. He shuffled out into the center of the aisle between the racks and tables to avoid knocking over the racks.


“So,” Eykit told him, “whatever you saw, it’s gone now.”


“Good!” the kid replied.


“What did you see?” Elitheris asked him.


“We’d like more information about what you saw,” Eykit added, “because we didn’t see it.”


“I don’t know what it was. It was a blue hazy blob!”


“Okay!” Eykit said. “This is good information.”


“Are you fucking blind?” Almë asked the child.


“Hey,” Eykit addressed Almë sharply, “I’m thinking don’t lead with that!” The kid didn’t seem to be blind. He seemed to navigate through the shop just fine. He frowned up at the tall, willowy Elf.


The Goblin turned back to the child. “Can you describe to me what you experienced?”


“I was walking down the street and I saw the Breathstealer. It was there, and I ran away.”


“How did you know it was the Breathstealer?”


“Because it was glowing and blue! Just like a wraith would be.”


“How big was it?”


The kid held his arms out, as if hugging an large imaginary beach ball. He shrugged, and his expression was as good an embodiment of the idea “I don’t know” as anyone had ever seen.


“Two feet across?”


“Yeah, about that big around.”


“Was it floating, or was it on the ground?”


“It looked like it was floating along the ground.”


“Can you put your hand out to show me how high it was?”


The Orc kid put his hand out, at about waist height.


“And was it moving?” Eykit asked.


“Looked like it. I didn’t stick around to find out.”


“Was it moving away from you?”


“I don’t know. I just saw it and ran.”


“Oh, so it may have been standing still.”


“It may have been. I wasn’t going to stick around long enough for it to get me.”


“It’s cool, if it was standing still. I don’t blame you for getting away.”


“I don’t want by breath stolen!”


“That’s a good instinct! But it may have just been hovering and waiting.” Eykit prompted, “Maybe?”


The kid shrugged. “Maybe. It could have been.”

“It may not have been moving at all. Maybe it was waiting around.”


“I wasn’t going to stick around and find out,” the kid repeated.


“Ah, but you didn’t see it moving in any particular direction! You saw a glowing blue shape. It may have been moving, but it may have also been sticking around, waiting for somebody.”


“Maybe.”


“You don’t know, and can’t tell. That’s fine. Your best decision was to get away. And you also told other people. You did the right thing.” Eykit looked into the kid’s eyes, and waved his arms at about the size and shape of the wraith. “So, you saw a thing about this big, about this high.”


“Can we walk you back over and have you look at something real quick?” Elitheris said, after a short sub voce conference with Almë.


“Is it still there?”


“Well, maybe,” Elitheris admitted.


“I don’t wanna go there! I don’t want my breath stolen!”


“No no, it’ll be perfectly safe. We’ll go with you.”


The kid squinted up at the taller adults, and the two that were his size, assessing their strength. He seemed to think they would protect him. One even had a polearm. Even the little Hobbit rode a big dog. That had to count for something.


“Come with us,” Elitheris said.


The kid considered. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”


They left the shop, and made their way back towards the house with the red shutters. As they walked up to the house, the kid peeked around Elitheris’ side, making sure that the Breathstealer was gone. He squinted, trying to see.


Elitheris noticed him peeking around her. “Can you see the wraith right now? Do you see anything?”


The child shook his head. “No, I see a blue bush, and a light.”


Eykit went back around the house. “Hey kid! When I come back around the house, call out when you see me!”


“All right,” he said. As soon as Eykit came around the corner, the kid said, “I see you!”


“How many fingers am I holding up?”


“I don’t know.”


Eykit held up a different amount of fingers. “How many now?”


”I don’t know.”


Eykit closed his fist. “How many fingers am I holding up?”


“None.”


“Okay, not a detail guy.”


Ruby went up to the house’s front door, and knocked on it.


The old Orc came to the door. “Hello, again,” Ruby said. “How long have you had the lantern out on that tree? Is it new?”


“It’s not new. I put it out every now and again to light up the road for those who can’t see in the dark.”


“Do you put it out often?”


“I forgot to put it out last night. But it’s been out all night tonight, ever since sundown.”


“Does your lantern flicker sometimes when the wind catches it?”


“I imagine that would happen, although it hasn’t been all that windy tonight. I suppose it’s possible.”


Ruby went over to the bush, examining it. It didn’t seem out of the ordinary; she saw leaves and twigs and flowers. There weren’t any telltale signs of anyone hiding in it either. No broken branches, although her moving through the shrubbery and shifting the branches around caused some of the flower petals to fall onto the ground. There were adult sized footprints, likely made when the old man put up the lantern.


“Almë, can you take a look at this bush?” she asked.


“I can just kill it, right?” Almë said. He was tired, wanted to go back to the inn, and thought this was a waste of time.


“You don’t have to kill it! Just examine it!”


Almë cast the spell of Plant Sense on the bush, which would allow him to get a sense of what kinds of animals and creatures had been around the plant in the recent past. He got the impression that someone walked up to the plant, walked away, someone walked up to it, ran away, then a confusing mass of things walked up to it and around it, and, finally, someone rustled its branches.


Almë related the minimal information he got from the bush. “Is that enough for you, or should I ask the tree as well?”


“Ask the tree,” Ruby said.


Almë rolled his eyes, sighed, and shook his head. He knew what the “Breathstealer” was, and was getting mad that no one else seemed to be getting it. He could feel his anger stirring, but he clamped down on it. He cast the same spell on the tree. He got pretty much the same information from the tree, with a little more detail. Again, no indication of anything abnormal, fantastic, undead, or magical. No evidence of a wraith.


“We think you saw the lantern, kid,” Ruby said.


The Orc child squinted at it, tilted his head, stepped to one side, then started walking around the tree. “Ahhh!” he said. “It was just a bush! I feel stupid!”


“Don’t feel stupid,” Ruby said.


Almë just laughed. Finally, he thought.


“From over here, it looked like a wraith,” the kid said, while standing in the shadow of the tree cast by the lantern. The light from the lantern shone through the wispy blue flowers, appearing like a fog of bluish light in the child’s nearsighted eyes.


The problem solved, Ruby headed back to the inn, and a bed. Almë followed. “We just spent a half hour with a stupid child,” he said as they got out of earshot.


They went back to the inn, once they were sure the kid would be okay. He would be, he said, once he got over how dumb he felt.


Kynetsday, Harvest 41, 879 AFE

They had an uneventful night, and woke at dawn the next day. It was time to explore the bat cave. Almë was disappointed that the farming family wasn’t waiting for them at the inn that morning.


They followed cart trails around fields, heading to the south. They could see wagons up ahead of them, moving south as well. One moved north, laden with a low pile of grayish sludge that smelled of ammonia. They caught a whiff of it from thirty meters away, the sharp smell making them want to close their nostrils. It was guano.


They gave the smelly wagon a wide berth as it passed them; they had to flee into the field of wheat to avoid the worst of the stench. After a few moments as the wagon trundled down the track, they got back on the trail and continued. It wasn’t long before they came to a field that looked fallow. At the far end were the two wagons, the teamsters backing them into position near a crane-like winch assembly. It was sturdily made of lumber, and was suspended over a rift in the ground. The top of a ladder could be seen at one end of the hole.


There were two people working the winch device. An Orc manned a large crank, another guided the rope and manipulated the bucket, and a Human waited with a wheelbarrow. The man at the crank would raise up a large bucket, then his companion would dump it into the wheelbarrow, sending the bucket down into the hole again. It took three buckets to fill the wheelbarrow, at which point the guy manning it would run it up a ramp into the back of a wagon. Then he’d dump it, and repeat the process all over again.


Nearby was a tall bamboo pole with a red flag on the end of it, stuck into the ground. A slight breeze moved the flag, but it wasn’t strong enough to unfurl it. Next to it was a two meter tall torch. These were Rural Watch signaling devices, used to call the Rural Watch in case of emergency. Waving the flag or lighting and waving the torch would hopefully be seen by the skyfolk on patrol, who would then get help. Or, on some occasions, they would come streaking in and strike whatever it was that was the threat.


The men, and it was only men at the moment, not a one was female, all wore handkerchiefs over their noses and mouths. Likely filled with herbs to cut down on the guano’s smell.


Norolind and Mr. Wiggles stopped about fifty meters from the pit and wagon. They didn’t seem to want anything to do with the area, and neither Elitheris nor Ruby could get them to move any closer. The two women shrugged, then hurried to catch up to the men, who hadn’t bothered to wait for them while they tried to get the dogs to move. Mr. Wiggles whined, but made no effort to follow Elitheris. The whole area smelled of ammonia, rot, and filth.


The men up top would occasionally shout instructions or comments down into the pit. Which meant that there were people working down there. In the bat guano. Which they used as fertilizer.


The three guys looked up from their work when they realized they had a group for company.


“Oh, this is not good,” Eykit said, not liking the prospect of a pit full of bat poop. He addressed the men working. “So, whatcha doin’?”


“Getting fertilizer,” the Orc said gruffly, although not unkindly. His voice was just rather gravelly.


“Poop, right,” Eykit muttered. “Yep, it’s poop.”


“Well, yeah, I suppose,” the Human said. “Guano. Yeah. It’s fertilizer.”

The smell of guano was strong near the pit and the wagon that was being loaded with it. The pit itself, now that they were close enough to see it, was more of a rift than a round hole. The pit looked like it had been a sink hole; the field was on a slight slope, and it was likely that the spring rains had collapsed the ground in this area, opening up what amounted to a fertilizer mine.

Almë looked at the pit. It was dark, and he couldn’t see anything. He’d need to put his head down into the hole to shut out enough daylight for his eyes to adjust to see anything down there.


Ruby introduced herself and her companions to the three workers.


The Orc at the winch said, "I'm Dugbûrz, that's Burzum, and the guy pushing the 'barrow is Merten."


She then proceeded to tell them of their reason for being there. “We are here trying to stop the Breathstealer in order to save your babies. We’ve talked to the midwife, and one of the families that has a baby with the problem.” She glanced at the winch mechanism. “And we think that the fertilizer might be the problem. We are here to investigate the source. We had heard that the children of some of the workers here had turned blue and were dying.” She addressed the workers directly, “So, what do you guys know about what’s been happening? And have any of you had any health problems?”


The three men looked at each other, confusion on their faces. None had any health problems that they knew of.


Eykit asked, “Have any of you lost babies?”


All three shook their heads.


“Do you know anyone who’s lost a baby?”


All three knew families who’d lost children to the Breathstealer. It was a fairly close community; most people new all of the local families, at least a little.


“No one here in the guano mine has lost a baby?” Eykit asked.


None of them had pregnant wives or newborns this year.


Ruby asked Merten if he had anyone living with him, to which he said, “Yes, of course. But there weren’t any babies that died in my steading.”


“We are looking for families that have had babies who have died,” Eykit told the three workers.


They had gone back to work, listening to the set of people that had come to question them. Being social and talking with the strangers was all well and good, but the work still needed to be done. The fertilizer wasn’t going to load itself onto the wagons.


The three workers rattled off several names of families, although under most circumstances they couldn’t remember the names of the little ones that had turned blue and died. They had never even met most of the babies that had died, so there had been little incentive to learn the children’s names.


“Were they people that worked with you? Friends? Neighbors?” Eykit wondered.


“In a sense, they were neighbors,” Dugbûrz said between turns of the crank. “We’ve occasionally worked on the same fields, especially during sowing and harvest. Mostly harvest.”


“How many, would you say?”


“Two or three, maybe,” the Orc responded. “I haven’t worked with everybody.”


“And how long has it been?”


“Uh, maybe the last couple of years or so.”


“Years?” Eykit asked. “Since they’ve lost their children?”


“Oh no, we’ve only been losing children for the last couple months.”


“Are they close in proximity? From their home to yours, how long would it take to walk between them?”


“Twenty minutes, maybe? Probably quicker if I hurried.”


“All right. Maybe a kilometer and a half or so.”


“Call it that.”


“So, they’ve lost children recently, but you haven’t worked with them that recently?”


“No, I’ve pretty much been working here, at the ol’ fertilizer mine.” Technically, it was a new fertilizer mine.


“At the poop mine. Got it. So can you give us some names? We’re trying to solve the problem and find out what’s going on.”


He shrugged and said, “Sure.” He then rattled off a few names that the midwife had given them.


“Do you know where those guys are working these days?”


“Probably on the fields near their steadings.”


“But they don’t work in the mines?”


“Nah. It’s just us, and Drakthar and Zoranna; they're down there filling buckets.”


“Is there some other access to the cave?” Elitheris asked. She’d been quiet, simply listening, her eyes flicking around the men, the winch, the surrounding fields, and the stretch of jungle to the south. They were at the edge of civilization.


“We don’t think so. We haven’t found any other opening.”


“So it’s a cave where you cllimb into a hole in the ground.”


“Yes, the bats come in and out all the time, and we have to stop work when they do that. We don’t want to bug them too much, because we need to have them keep making that fertilizer. And we want it to last. We need to keep them living there, and if we scare them all off, we won’t have enough fertilizer.”


Ruby peered into the darkness of the hole. “How did you find the fertilizer?”


“We stumbled upon it, really,” Merten said. “When the rift opened up. It had been just a small hole that the bats used. The ground fell in, an made a larger hole. We went down, and found the fertilizer down there. And it’s been making our crops grow really well!”


And he was right. It was a bumper crop, given that PKAC didn’t get out here very often with its mages to bless the crops and double the yield. The farmers this far from Port Karn had to grow food the old fashioned way—hard work and fertilizer. And the sink hole, with its cheap source of nutrients, was a blessing from the gods.


“These bats,” Ruby asked them, “have you seen that kind before?”


The three men conferred. “Well, yeah,” Merten said. “All the time. Even before the sink hole opened up. We’ve always had bats.”


“And you didn’t use the bat poop before the sink hole?”


“No, we had no idea the caverns were there, or how large a cavern complex it was.”


Burzum, manning the bucket, spoke up. “We couldn’t have fit through the original opening anyways. It had only been about thirty centimeters wide.” He dumped the full bucket into the wheelbarrow.


“Well,” Dugbûrz chuckled. “Judging from the depth of the guano, those bats have been busy down there for a long, long time.”


A voice called up from below. “Yeah, and it’s just about your turn to come on down here!”


“And my wheelbarrow is full,” Merten said, “and I need to take it where it needs to go. The wagons aren’t going to load themselves.” He pushed the wheelbarrow up the ramp and into the back of the wagon.


“I don’t think it’s the poop,” Almë said. “I think it’s something that escaped from the cave when it opened.”


“Oh, you think there’s something living in the cave?” Eykit said.


“Maybe it’s not even living in the cave any more, maybe it’s living out in the area somewhere, and hunting the babies or whatever. It’s living on the babies.”


“It would make sense that it was something that got out when he cave opened up.”


“Yes! Yes! That’s how it started! It escaped the cave!” Almë was sure he was right.


“So they like opened it up, and a crack happened in the earth, and a hell creature came up. So there are the bats, but there is also this hell creature. And the bats are all ‘oh look, bugs’ and the hell creature is all ‘oh look, babies’.”


“If it’s still going back to the cave, it’s very unlikely since there are workers. There are likely Orcs at night, so somebody would have seen something. Maybe there is bat poop and I don’t know, big troll baby-eating poop or whatever. In any case, I don’t think it’s the poop, I think it’s something else.”


While they were discussing the rampaging monster that had emerged from the cave, a large two-horse wagon pulled up. The wagon that had been there was almost full, so the larger wagon came at an opportune time.


The teamster backed the wagon up, guiding the horses as they moved backwards. Then he dropped the tailgate, and the ramp was moved from the smaller, full wagon to the empty large one. Merten ran the wheelbarrow up the ramp and dumped his load of crap in the back of the wagon.


“Hey,” Eykit asked Dugbûrz. “What’s the farthest you folks take the poop?” Eykit wasn’t ready to let go of the “poisoned poop” theory.


“Depends upon who is buying it,” the Orc said.


“Well,” said Merten, “most of the fertilizer has gone to the closest fields, because the teamsters get paid to ship it around. The closer it is, the cheaper it is.”


“But a few of the more well-off farmers and landowners have had wagonloads of it shipped all over the Rhades area. Although Merten here makes a good point.”


Merten ran another load of guano up into the wagon.


Ruby asked, “Ever have any problems with the horses?”


The Orc chuckled again. “Oh, they don’t like the smell any more than we do. So every now and then they’ll give the teamsters some trouble.”


“How about colts from these horses?” Eykit asked. “Have these two horses foaled recently?” He pointed at the two horses hitched to the large wagon. He could see that they were both mares.


“Not these horses in particular, I mean, Ukshok had a horse that foaled, but the foal didn’t make it.”


“When was the last time you had a foaling?”


“The previous year.”


“So nothing this year?”


“No.”


“Okay. So this could have been affecting animals.”


“Please let go of the poop theory,” Almë requested. He thought something nasty had come out of the cave and was killing the babies. He didn’t think poop was doing it.


“It will definitely affect animals,” Ruby agreed.


“How do we want to approach investigating the monster?” Almë asked. He was still convinced it was a rogue monster of some kind.


The pit was there, before them. And no one wanted to go down that ladder. It was smelly and gross. The fact that waders were being used implied that the poop was deep. Not ankle deep; boots would have been sufficient for that. No, waders were being used, which went up to chest height.


Ruby lit a lantern, and started climbing down the ladder. No one else was willing to do the hard, disgusting work of climbing down into the sea of bat poop. There were a couple of lanterns down there, so it wasn’t completely dark. Just dim. Hobbits didn’t have great night vision; in fact it wasn’t any better than Human vision.


But she held the lantern as she carefully climbed down the ladder. The rungs were slippery and covered in filth, carried up by dozens of feet going up and down the ladder. Her gloves were a mess. It would take hours to cleanse them.


Below her, she could see two people. They would alternate using the bucket as a big scoop before letting the Orc at the winch raise it up. They were both Orcish, and both wore waders. And the poop was up to their waists.


Ruby had already ruined some of her clothes just by starting down the ladder. She really didn’t want to ruin any others. “Hey, do you have any extra waders up there?” she called to the topside workers.


“Naw, little lady,” one of the workers in the pit said, “we just have the two pair. I can take a break and let you borrow mine, though. Won’t fit very well!” He chuckled at the image of the small woman swimming in his large pair of waders, the sleeves and legs all bunched up.


The roof of the cavern she could see from the ladder was about four meters above the level of the guano, which meant the the ceiling was about five meters tall. It was a pretty large space. The light wasn’t sufficient to let her see much of the walls with any clarity, so she wasn’t sure how big the cavern actually was. Judging from the echoes her voice made, however, indicated it was rather large.


Ruby went back up the ladder. The air was noticeably fresher. She related what little she saw to the rest of her companions.


“I am not going down there without protective clothing in my size. But I might be able to get around that. But I will need light. I’ll need to be able to see down there.”

“I can help with that,” Taid said.


Ruby held out her stone necklace. It was a simple thing, basically a pretty rock on a leather thong. It wasn’t very valuable, but Taid assumed it had some sentimental value. It looked very much like a necklace a child might have made with a polished rock.


He cast the spell of Continual Light upon it, at daylight level. It was bright, and he wasn’t able to look directly at it comfortably.


Ruby walked over to where Norolind was lying on the ground. She dropped her pack, and left her staff with him. Then she mounted the dog, standing on his back. She put the necklace down in front of her.

She cast the spell of Shapeshifting. Her form shrunk, her nose and mouth formed into a beak, and feathers sprouted all over her body. In a moment, a small falcon stood on the back of the big, black dog. Then she took the necklace and tied it around her leg, the stone a glowing beacon even in the morning light.

Eykit gaped, his jaw slack. He wasn’t a magic guy. He certainly wasn’t used to magic of this type, at all. Yes, he hung out with mages. Four of them, as a matter of fact. But the magics he was used to were of the more subtle variety, the utility spells that everyone used to make their lives just a little bit better.


He had never, ever, seen someone who could turn into an animal. Elitheris placed her forefinger under his chin, and pushed his jaw closed. But even she hadn’t seen that kind of magic too often. She’d heard of it, and knew it could be done, but she hadn’t known anyone who could do it. Even Almë, who came from a larger town, with, she assumed, resident mages, seemed surprised.


Taid shrugged. His studies in the monastery had prepared him for this kind of thing, and if they hadn’t, the military had a few mages that he’d heard of through the grapevine that could do something like that.


It was still impressive. And inherently risky. There were tales of mages turning into animals and then being unable to turn back.


Ruby the bird circled around, getting used to her wings. Then she dove into the pit. The smell was like a wall of ammonia. The light emanating from her necklace filled the room with light and dancing shadows, and she was able to see that there were three openings in the crescent-shaped cavern.


She couldn’t soar in the cave, so she had to flap her wings, a lot. She went through a narrow, twisting passage barely wide enough for her wings, with then opened up into another large, oddly shaped cavern. This chamber was also filled with guano. Above her, she could hear the rustling of bats, agitated now that there was an avian predator in the area. There were two other openings.


“Wait,” Eykit said, “she’s a bird? A Hobbibird? A Hobbird? Fuck it, I’m out.” Magic could do some weird shit, and it made him uncomfortable. Even though he lived in a world where magic was common. At least, the “mundane” magics were common. He wondered how she fit inside that bird costume. That bird only had a half meter wingspan! Where did the rest of her go? It was unnatural.


Ruby went into a twisting corridor. There were several branches, but she kept going as straight ahead as she could. The space widened again, into another chamber. She kept having to work hard to stay above the soupy, chunky, disgusting ground. It was so much easier to fly in open air, where the sky did the work for her, and she could just spread her wings and have the air hold her up. Here she had to work to keep up her altitude, and the stench and thick ammonia fumes made breathing difficult.


In these caves she was having to act like a hummingbird in order to remain aloft, and she could feel the fatigue starting to build up. She reached a dead end, but the passage leading to it had sloped up, so there was less guano. She could actually see the ground here, a rocky, uneven slope of stone. She turned around laboriously, then continued onward through the other passageway leading out of the room.


The falcon tried to make it through another narrow, twisting tunnel. She almost made it, but couldn’t quite make the turn, and slammed into the wall. Fortunately, she wasn’t flying very fast, so it was more of an embarrassment rather than an injury. Still, she almost fell to the ground before recovering, missing falling into the guano by less than twenty centimeters.

She flew through several more passages, finding dead ends, and having to turn back. It was very confusing, and she had no idea which cardinal direction she was facing. The passages also didn’t stay at the same level; they went up and down as well. She was well and truly lost. And she would eventually get too tired to keep flapping her wings so much.


She kept moving, from passage to chamber to passage. Sometimes she flew through them without trouble, sometimes she barely made it through without banging into a wall. A few times, she wasn’t able to make a tight corner, and ended up bouncing off of the wall. She was going to shapeshift back to her Hobbit form and be covered in bruises.


She saw some chambers, filled with guano, but there were some striations in the guano, as if someone had moved through it, and it filled back in behind them, but not quite perfectly, leaving ridges.


She kept going, and flew through a chamber with a chalk arrow drawn on the wall. It appeared as if someone had come through here, marking their way so as not to get lost.


She entered a chamber that maybe she had been in before. If so, she was seeing it from a different angle, so she couldn’t be sure she’d been there before. But it gave her hope; it meant that the caverns were connected in a loop.


There was another tight curve, but she couldn’t quite make it. She slammed into the wall, fluttered down in a daze, and fell into the guano. She didn’t sink, she was pretty light and the guano was denser than water, so she wasn’t in any danger of sinking. It took her a couple of spastic, flapping attempts to get airborne again, but she managed.


She reached a chamber, and there were several openings. From one, she could hear voices. She went that way, through another twisting passage that she pinballed through. She emerged into the first chamber, where the two Orcs were filling buckets.


She flew up out of the hole. Her emergence startled the two Orcs working the winch, and both exclaimed their surprise.


She gained altitude, flying higher. She sought fresh air, and water. She needed a bath. Seeing a river, she headed that way. It wasn’t far for someone who could fly as fast as she could. She found a shallow spot, and cleaned herself. Then she flew back to her companions.


She went to Norrie, who was laying in the shade of a tree. Mr. Wiggles was hanging out with him, panting in the heat, even though it was only midmorning. She landed on her dog, shifted back into Hobbit form, and retrieved the items she had left behind.



“What the freakin’ Aheru-Mazda was that?” Taid asked. “You could have told us you could do that!”



“Hi guys, what’s up?” Ruby asked. She giggled at their reaction to her falcon form. When her amusement at their reaction was under control, she told them what she had seen. Not much, except that the cavern complex was large and extensive, riddling the ground beneath the field they were in and probably several more of the surrounding ones. She also mentioned that someone had chalked out some arrows on the walls, likely to prevent getting lost. With all of the small, twisty passages, that was a real danger.


“That’s all fine, but what the hell was that?” Taid asked. “What are you?”


“A falcon,” Ruby replied, “when I want to be.”


“I thought you were a Hobbit!” Eykit stated.


“I am.”


“Wait! You’re a Hobbit and a falcon?”


“I’m a mage.” Ruby thought this was self-evident, but she was used to the sophisticated types in Adayn, who’d seen it all and never seemed surprised about anything. But then, the wealthy attracted mages, since they were the ones that could actually afford magical services.


“So, how many things can you shift into?” Taid asked.


“Just the falcon.”


“That’s still pretty cool. And you can poop on things?”


Ruby thought that was a rude question, but Dwarves could be pretty blunt. “Maybe I can, but…that’s sort of rude.”


“That’s a nifty tool to have in the kit.”


“So, back to what you saw in the cave,” Taid prompted.

“There was some evidence of something large that had moved through the guano,” Ruby said. “I saw what appeared to be a track. Like a wake that never fully smoothed out. Plus the arrows, likely put there by the people first exploring the caves.”


“Well, that’s disappointing,” Elitheris said.


“Do you have a rough idea of the layout?” Almë asked.


“Only the most vague idea. I can mostly remember which way I turned, but what directions those actually were, and at what depth, I can’t say. It was very twisty and turny.”


As they spoke with Ruby, they noticed that she was covered in bruises. “I didn’t want to stay down there too long, I was getting tired. Falcons aren’t built for hovering.”


“So,” she said, after a moment, “what should we do now? Should I fly down there again, or should we all go down?”


“Back into the shit hole?” Eykit asked.


“It’s a good question,” Almë said.


“Maybe there is a big thing down there,” Ruby said.


Eykit shook his head. He wasn’t going down there. “You do you. But what are you getting down there? Besides an aching nose?”


“Right now, nothing. Just that there may be something down there, in the poop.”


“Have we gotten anything out of this?” Eykit asked. He really did want to get away from this stinky place. He was starting to not notice the stench, which made him nervous.


“Maybe,” Almë said.


“Yes,” Ruby said. “We did.”


“I don’t think the thing is still down there,” Almë said, referring to the wake mark. “It seems too big to go out unseen, unless she was unfortunate and missed a second exit. Which is possible, since she lacked any ability to mark what rooms she’d been in.”


“There were what seemed to be loops that connected to places I’d been before, but there were also a lot of dead ends. It’s a maze down there.”


Almë sighed. “So, two ideas. One is that she could fly around and see if she can find a second entrance or something in the area. Second one is we go down and do the whole ‘solve the labyrinth’ whatever thing.”


“When he says ‘we go back’, he means you,” Eykit said, indicating everyone else. He had no intention of going into the shit hole. He’d guard the entrance from up top. He was short, and couldn’t turn into a bird, so if he were lucky, he’d only be up to his neck in it. But it was highly likely that it was deeper than he was tall. And he didn’t relish drowning in guano.


“Can she fly around and sniff out the guano smell?” Elitheris asked. “Maybe it’s coming out of a fissure in the rocks or something.” Although, she thought, the dogs could likely do it much more easily.


“I don’t think I’d be able to smell it from the air,” Ruby said.


“The dogs could do it, but would they be able to tell us when they smelled it?” Eykit asked. “Mr. Wiggles, I certain, could smell it, but he’s likely not that good at telling us when he did so. He hasn’t been with us for very long, and we haven’t put him into any intense training yet. He’s a very good dog, but can he alert us to any of this?”


“I can control a bat, and have it lead me to another entrance,” Ruby said. “With me in falcon form, once I tell the bat what I want it to do. I’ll just have to somehow keep up with the bat down there.”


It was going to be sort of tricky. She would need to cast the spell of Mammal Control on some bats, have them wait for a few seconds, then go find another entrance. She had to transform herself into the falcon, then follow them, hopefully keeping up with them as they flew through the tiny, twisting passageways. They had some advantages there; they were smaller, had sonar, and home field advantage. They knew the place, since they lived there. They could anticipate the turns much better than she could. She saw more bruises in her near future. Hopefully no broken wings.


This difficulty was compounded by the energy cost casting those spells would take on her. It wouldn’t do to exhaust herself, only to fall unconscious and drop into the sea of bat shit. She needed to be able to tap into her powerstones, without dropping them into the guano.


Her staff had a pair of dedicated powerstones, both quite large, although they only worked for spells cast through the staff. That wasn’t a problem for the spell of Mammal Control, she’d want to use the staff for that anyway, just to reduce the distance from her to the targets of her spell. It wouldn’t work for the Shapeshift spell, though, since that was on herself, and she couldn’t use the staff for that.


Her staff was also a staff of power, which acted as a mana battery. She could tap that to refill her reserves of mana. But she needed someone to hold the staff for her. She didn’t want it dropping into the poop. Almë volunteered.


Ruby climbed halfway down the ladder, Almë just above her, with her staff. She summoned some bats, refilled her mana, then transformed into a falcon and landed on the staff that Almë held out. She refilled her mana again, and grabbed her glowing necklace, which she had draped on the ladder rung. She quickly wrapped it around her leg. The bats were already flying towards one of the passageways, so she leapt off of the ladder rung she had been perched on and followed them.


Almë climbed up the ladder.


Ruby followed the bats, bouncing off of the wall as she missed making a tight enough turn. She flew on, the bats leading her through chambers and passages. As she flew through a chamber, she saw another arrow, chalked on the wall. It pointed back the way she had just come.


She was flapping hard, keeping up off of the poop. The bats flew on, and she followed. She sped up; she couldn’t let them get far enough ahead that she couldn’t see them. This caused her to slam harder into a wall than she would have liked, and she tucked her wings in just before she hit. Fortunately, she didn’t think she broke any of her hollow bones, but her leg hurt, and she could feel wetness seeping through her feathers.


She hit the ground before she could recover enough to fly. The guano here was only a thin layer, barely past the tops of her tiny talons. She hurriedly launched herself into the air again before the bats got too far ahead of her. Her haste made her have to speed up again to stay with the bats.


A little while later, the bats flew into a smallish chamber, then up through a gap in the wall. It wasn’t very big; maybe forty centimeters wide by twenty high. Barely enough room, if she was careful, to fly through. She lined herself up with the gap, and didn’t quite clear the opening on one side, whacking her wing as she flew out. It spun her, and she crashed into the roots and branches that nearly covered the hole. She rolled down the slope the hole was on until she could recover her balance.


She checked her wing. It seemed fine, albeit sore. Like stubbing a toe on a piece of furniture. She looked back at the hole, which she could barely make out, covered as it was by the brush. She was in a section of hedgerow. The hole was too small for a person to fit into.


She flew up, circled the area to get a good idea where it was, and flew back to the rest of her companions.


Taid cast a spell of healing, once he had realized that the falcon was wounded. She transformed back into a Hobbit, and told them what she had found.


“The opening is too small for a person to fit into it, but maybe we can make it bigger,” Ruby said.


“I could do it,” Almë said, “but it might be difficult, time consuming, and mana-intensive.”


“Could you make holes in the ceiling, like skylights to provide light?”


“I suppose, but the same issues apply.”


“And that would make a bunch of dangerous holes in fields that people are trying to farm,” Taid mentioned.


The large wagon started moving off, its bed full of guano. Taid asked the guys at the winch, “Where is that wagon going?”


The workers shrugged, and one said, “To a field to be spread on the ground. One of the ones that’s been harvested.”


“So this stuff is getting absorbed by the food that is getting fed to the babies?”


“But the babies all died before they were weaned,” Eykit said. “They hadn’t eaten any solid food.” All of the dead babies had died before being weaned off the breast.


“It’s not the poop,” Almë said again. Ruby nodded in agreement.


“We don’t think it’s the poop? Then why are we here, exploring the caves?” Taid asked. It was a good question.


“To find if there is a nest or something,” Almë explained.


“A monster or something,” Ruby said.


“There’s a shit monster down there. And it’s going to eat through my armor!” Taid said. “This is just great.”


“Do we know if the poop monster needs to breathe?” Almë asked.


“I don’t know,” Taid replied, “I’m not up on my poop monster anatomy.”


“Me either,” Eykit said.


Apparently, their conversation was overheard by the workers, because one asked in alarm, “Do you think there is a poop monster down there?”


“Yes,” Eykit and Taid both said.


Burzum turned and looked into the hole, calling to the workers down below. “Guys? Have you heard anything about a poop monster down there?”


“What? There’s a poop monster down here?” came the reply back. “Fuck! C’mon!”


The two workers immediately climbed the ladder, emerging into the bright morning sunshine. They were covered in filth up to their armpits. They were wearing waders that almost reached that height, but fell short several inches.


They shaded their eyes as the Human grabbed their hats and ran over to them. The two unprotected Orcs slapped their hats on their heads with a sigh of relief. The sun did bad things to Orcs.


One of them yawned, he was up past his bedtime. He’d been part of the night shift, but was working late.


“I don’t want to go down there again! Not if there’s a poop monster!” the other one said. He got a look of absolute horror on his face, and he started hurriedly stripping off the waders. His body and legs were covered in guano; the stuff had overtopped his waders during his exertions down below and filled the inside of his clothing. “Oh gods! It can’t fit in here, can it? I think I can feel it on my legs!”


The other one started stripping hers off as well, just in case. She didn’t feel anything in her waders, but that didn’t stop her from stripping them off.


“Have you two seen anything moving down there?” Taid asked.


“No, just bats!” the Orc said, as he peeled the soiled waders off of his legs. The Orcish woman shook her head.


“So, Ruby saw some channels or wakes in the poop. Have you noticed any of those down there?”


The two Orcs, now without waders but still filthy, looked into the hole. They pointed, and Taid looked down into the hole, shading his eyes. He could see several where the two guys had been working.


“You guys hadn’t noticed those before?” Taid asked them.


“Just the ones we made.”


“Oh, you make those.”


“But I saw them in a distant chamber, not the one you were in,” Ruby said.


“Well, we have done a bit of exploring, mostly at the beginning. Just to get an idea of what the place is like. We put arrows on the walls to keep from getting lost. It works, mostly. Still a confusing mass of tunnels, though. And some are too small for us to fit.”


“I think we are done here,” Ruby said. “I think we should go back to Felgrat Grom’s since the family didn’t show up at the inn. A smart mother would run away with the baby and get out of the area. Especially if there’s some demon that is sucking out its life.”


“I’m curious to know if getting the baby out of this environment will fix the problem,” Eykit said. “That’s why I asked earlier if anyone had left the area. Why has no one left?”


“Because they are living there,” Ruby said. “It’s their home.”


“And maybe they can’t afford to leave,” Elitheris added.


In most cases, tenant farmers would need permission to leave granted by their local lord. Unlike people in cities, these farmers had an agreement to work the land in exchange for a place to live and food to eat. In most cases, the lord didn’t care where they went or who they visited, but it was still required for them to ask.


They went back to Felgrat Grom’s steading, a walk of maybe a half hour. Through the window, as they approached, they could see a lot of people seated at the big table in the kitchen. They were eating breakfast, or dinner, considering their working hours.


They knocked on the door. Otha saw them through the window as they walked up, and rose to open the door for them, but Ugluk beat her to it. The baby, Bolar, seemed like he was still in fair shape. He didn’t seem any bluer than he did yesterday, after they had used healing magic on him.


“Come on in,” Ugluk said.


Ruby, Taid, Almë, Elitheris, and Eykit entered the house. Along the wall by the door were some bundles. It looked like they were getting ready to take a trip.


Ruby saw the bundles, and asked, “Why didn’t you show up at the inn this morning like we told you? What’s going on?” Ruby was used to the lower classes following her instructions.


“Had to get stuff together, pack, and figure it out and make decisions. Takes a while to do that kind of stuff.”


“Do you want to leave? And come to our manor?”


“Yeah, we’re thinking that might be a good idea. Get the hells out of here.”


“Good. That’s great. How’s the baby?”


“He seems as fine as he was last night. We’re hoping that he stays that way.”


“That’s good. How many of you want to go?”


“All of us, if you’ll have us,” Ugluk said. The rest of the residents nodded. Two of them, Quentin and Jokise, the Human and the Goblin, looked unsure, as if they weren’t sure they were invited. But they looked hopeful.


“Yeah, all of you are invited,” Ruby said.


It was time for introductions. They had really only spoke at any length with Otha, although they did ask Quentin and Jokise for directions to the bat cave.


Felgrat Grom was the headman of the steading, and was a large, strong man with a solid look to him. He spoke slowly, and deliberately, when he spoke at all. He was still fairly young, not even thirty summers, and he was married to Gubu and had two children, a daughter Akoth and a son, Feldûsh.


Gubu was a bit older than Felgrat, and just about as strong. She looked like she could lift a horse. She looked like she could have a fearsome scowl, when she chose to, but her natural demeanor was one of joviality, except when she thought about her dead infant, Bagga.


Akoth was eight, and, like her parents, strong. She was actually as strong as an adult Human male. She sat quietly at the table, playing with a rag doll.


Her brother, Feldûsh, was four. He sat next to his sister, kicking his dangling legs against the bench, humming tunelessly. He sucked on his fingers.


Ugluk seemed to be nervous, but it wasn’t because he was contemplating moving. He’d been convinced that the Breathstealer was going to kill his son Bolar. He’d taken to sleeping with a knife nearby for defense, not that he thought the knife could actually harm the Breathstealer. But it made him feel better all the same.


Like Felgrat, he was muscular, and, like Felgrat, wasn’t really bright. But that was fine, he was a good farmer, and a hard worker. He knew what he needed to know, and it didn’t matter that he wasn’t a scholar. He was a young man, barely past twenty summers.


Otha they had met already, and she cradled Bolar in her arms. He was feeding again, and she rocked him gently as he suckled.


Quinten Kameron was a Human farmhand. Obviously not part of the family by blood. But he was an older man, at forty, and was a well-seasoned farm hand. He knew his business, and did it well. He had a sort of worldly wisdom that age and a keen perception had given him.


The last of the eight people was Jokise Ukiidi. He was a Goblin of twelve summers, so he was a young man of an equivalent age to Ugluk and Felgrat. Like most Goblins, strength wasn’t his strong suit, but the rest of the steading had that in spades. He was smart, and agile, with quick fingers. He was usually the one cracking jokes and wisecracks.


Ruby wanted to make sure that the people of the steading were very welcome at their manor. But she also wanted to make sure that they knew that just moving away from the area wasn’t a guaranteed cure for what ailed little Bolar. They weren’t entirely sure they knew what the actual problem was yet, so there was no way they could promise a cure. She wanted to make sure they had realistic expectations.


“We understand,” Otha said. “At the very least, it will be a test. We also understand it may be temporary. Maybe someone will kill the Breathstealer while we are gone.”


“This place,” Ruby said, meaning the steading, “has nothing for you but bad luck. All your babies will die, maybe. But you can make a new life in our manor, and be free in a new city, and leave all this behind.”


“And we’re not requiring you to stay,” Eykit said. “If you want to come back here, you are free to do that.”


Quinten cocked his head, looking at Ruby. “But we have jobs there? Places to stay? Roof over our heads?”


“Yeah,” Jokise said, “I’m all for leaving and starting a new life and all, but what, exactly, does it entail and what are we getting ourselves into?”


“And if we work, do we get paid?” Felgrat asked. “What kind of crops will we be growing?” There were several other questions related to their future jobs and lives.


The group did their best to answer their new potential employees’ questions. They would have a roof. In the short term, they’d be living in the manor house, until the farmhands’ houses could be refurbished. They would be working first to get peaches picked and fields cleared of weeds in preparation for fall planting. They would be paid a fair wage. They would need to take their tools with them, as the manor was new, and lacking a lot of the basics.


“Like furniture,” Eykit said. “The previous owner sold just about everything that wasn’t nailed down, and sold those too until he had to sell the hammer he used to pry them up.”


After the myriad of questions had been answered to the satisfaction of all, Felgrat said, “I’ll need to go talk to the Baronet. I would like you to come along and tell the Baronet that we’re not just escaping.”


“Are we going to have to pay some sort of release fee, or something like that?” Eykit wondered.


“I don’t know. It’s depends upon his mood, I guess.”


“Are you owned? Because that’s not cool.”


“I suspect that he’s going to let us go, because we’re just farmhands, and he could get new ones, even during harvest. Our duty requires us to tell the Baronet that we are revoking the oath.”


“Okay, yep, I get it,” Eykit said. He was glad he wasn’t a farm hand. He wasn’t the type of guy who liked a lot of rules on his behavior and actions.


Felgrat didn’t expect there to be too much trouble getting permission to leave. But having the owners of the manor he was going to vouch for him would go a long way if there was any trouble. Plus, there was less chance of the Baronet or his staff convincing him to stay than if he had gone alone. He knew he wasn’t a fast thinker. He didn’t want to find himself talked out of his decision to go.


Almë whispered to Eykit, “While we are talking to the Baronet and asking permission, you can snoop around his place.”


Eykit just eyed him. Just what I need, he thought, get caught creeping around some noble’s house.


On the way to the Baronet’s manor house, they came up with an explanation for why they wanted to move an entire household. They were doing it as test, to see if the sick baby gets any better while away from the “cursed area”.


Almë turned to Eykit as they traveled. “Can you borrow me a flower pot?”


“What, steal one for you?” Eykit asked.


“Would you mind?”


“That’s some low level theft, right there.”


“Think anyone would notice?”


“No. Low level theft. Of course they won’t notice.”


At the next set of houses, next to a series of fields filled with the stubble of harvested crops, Eykit picked up a clay flower pot from a stack at a corner of a barn. “Here,” he said, handing Almë the pot. “You could have done that as easily as I did. Just with less style.”


A little while later, Almë found a suitable flower, a wild plumeria, which he transplanted into the pot. He worked a bit of magic on it to prevent it from wilting due to root shock.


“Another peeping tom plant?” Eykit asked.


Almë just grinned.


Baronet Felson Undrite’s manor was situated behind a gate, at the end of a row of cherry trees. All around the house were jungle plants, left as a screen between the manor and the surrounding tilled fields. The manor backed onto a river. It was very lush, and almost seemed like an oasis in the middle of the farms.


There wasn’t anyone at the gate, and the gates were open. They walked in, going past the cherry trees, which still had a few cherries on them, even though their peak of ripeness had been several eightdays ago.


They got about halfway down the row of cherry trees when they saw a group of six people coming towards them from the manor house. They were uniformed, and armed. They were wearing the livery of the Baronet.


The Baronet’s security forces, his knights, were coming forward to meet the visitors.


They stopped the motley crew. “What are you doing here?” one of them asked. “This is the property of Baronet Undrite. State your business.”


Ruby stepped forward. “Greetings, honored sers,” she said, in courtly tones and giving a curtsy. “We humbly request a meeting with the Baronet to discuss the current health problem plaguing the area, known as the Breathstealer.”


The guards listened, although they seemed noncommittal.


Ruby continued. “We got word about the Breathstealer from the Rural Watch. We are here investigating the problem, and trying to find a solution. One of those potential solutions is to take the family with the sick baby and relocate them away from the area, and see if the baby recovers. If someone in the family is a carrier of disease, then the baby won’t recover. But if it’s a curse, or a hunting creature, then the baby should be safe. And we humbly seek the permission from the Baronet to finalize our plans. ”


The thought occurred to Ruby as she went through the flowery language of the noble classes that maybe the Baronet had something to do with the Breathstealer. People in power often abused it; if there was one thing she knew from working at Central, it was that power corrupted. It took a strong person to have power and not let it go to their head. Few people were capable of it. Most of the time, the systems in place prevented the worst of excesses. Most of the time.


The head guard turned to an underling. “Go relay the message that these people want to talk to the Baronet.” The soldier ran back to the manor and disappeared inside. The commander turned back towards Ruby, although his eyes flicked over all of their faces, paying attention to the big dog and the tall, burly Orc who wore peasant clothes under his hat and lightweight undyed robe. “And this family you mention. Who would that be?” His eyes went back to the Orc, who stood behind the other people.


“That would be the steading of Felgrat Grom, who is here to request release, per the charter,” Ruby stated.


Felgrat stepped forward. “Yes, sir,” he said, bowing. “I’m here because it’s my duty to make such a request of the Baronet.”


“I see. But it’s not up to me. We’ll wait here until we get word back.” The other four armed men stood at parade rest, but were alert and ready in case the visitors tried anything.


It was a long ten or fifteen minutes later before the soldier came jogging back. He addressed his commander. “Well, the Baronet isn’t interested in talking to these guys. He delegated it to his local reeve. His seneschal will come out and talk to them.”


The head guard turned back to his visitors. “The Baronet is busy, but his seneschal has full authority to talk with you.”


As if on command, the front door of the manor house opened, and a well dressed man walked out. Human, about 1.75 meters tall, and slight of build, with brownish hair greying at the temples and a well-trimmed beard and mustache. He walked down the row of cherry trees towards the visitors.


“Okay, most of you I don’t recognize. You,” he said, pointing at Felgrat, “look a little familiar.”


Felgrat stepped forward, hands nervously held together in front of him. “Hello, good ser, I would like to take my family and leave the lands that we got and move to other lands.”


“Well, who is it who is leaving, and where do you think you’re going?”


Felgrat listed the names of everyone in his steading.


“Okay, but where do you plan on going?”


“With them,” Felgrat said, pointing at the two Elves, the Goblin, the Dwarf, and the Hobbit.


The seneschal looked at Felgrat’s companions. “So who are you all? And why would you want to take people off of our lands?”


Ruby introduced them all again. “They have a sick child, and we have the resources to help them. We are mages, and aren’t far from Port Karn, so we have ready access to the services of the city. We are offering a place for them all to stay until the child is better.”


“Oh, you’re those people. Vesten Manor, right?”


“It’s not Vesten Manor.”


“Okay, whatever. Felgrat, you may go, with your family.”


“Thank you,” Almë said, and he handed him the potted plant. “It’s a gift for the Baronet.”

The reeve took it, holding it out away from his clothing. “Thank you for this…wildflower.” He peered around, and saw several plumeria growing along the edges of the undisturbed jungle that acted like big hedges.


Almë quickly cast a Blossom spell, and even more blossoms opened up on the plant. The reeve seemed only a little surprised; Ruby had mentioned that they had access to a plant mage. He turned and walked back towards the manor.


Almë had also wanted to cast the spell of Spy Blossom on the flower, but the reeve would be too far away by the time he’d finish casting the spell. He was a bit disappointed about that. He had been hoping to find out what the Baronet was doing.

Rewards Granted

4 CP
Goodwill of a baker, who became a customer

Character(s) interacted with

Kura Ashgalar
Otha and Ugluk Almurg
Rhades Town guardsman
Tavernkeep of the Cracked Keg
Several farm hands

Report Date

28 Jun 2023

Primary Location

The City of Port Karn

Secondary Location

The Tondene Empire

Related Characters

• Almë
• Elitheris
• Eykit the Eel
• Mister Wiggles
• Norolind
• Ruby Smallburrow
• Taid Tehoredor Lasu

Due to swearing fealty to Baroness Walters, they picked up Duty (Baroness Walters, 6- Duty (Manor Holdings, 9- and Patron (Baroness Walters, 6-, SocioPolitical Power with Minimal Interventions). What this all means is that they may occasionally be asked to do something on the Baroness' behalf; that they have certain duties owed to the Manor (basic day to day stuff to keep the Manor running smoothly and, in some rare instances, they can ask the Baroness to intercede on their behalf.
Regarding the Commendation Feast, I really should have role-played this feast out. It would have been interesting to see what would have happened if a guy tried to pick Elitheris up. Might have also given Ruby a chance to make some connections with the local nobility.
GM Notes: As Sebastian guessed, this adventure is based on a condition known as Methemoglobinemia, which I learned about in one of my home inspection classes. It occurs when there are too many nitrates in the water supply, and newborns ingest them. It interferes with the ability of their blood to carry oxygen, which is why they turn blue and can die. After about six months, the babies develop enzymes that can deal with the nitrates, and they no longer can suffer from the condition. I tried very hard to avoid using a fantastic source for the blue babies. But I couldn’t figure out a way for the PCs to figure it out. (This was the primary reason that I didn’t want the players doing this adventure the first time it was mentioned…I needed more time to figure out how they could figure it out.) There had never been industrialized farming over enough time and rigor to cause those nitrates to build up enough to cause the problem. Even the Elves, who once had an industrialized society, never needed to do that much intensive agriculture. Their population never got high enough to warrant it. Thus, the condition had never occurred on the planet before. Plus, even if the farmers had excavated and dumped all of the guano onto a single field, there still wouldn’t be enough to contaminate the water table such that methemoglobinemia was a problem. So, it was off to Plan B. A wraith that drained the life out of babies. Which, for those Witcher fans, was very loosely based on the Baby quest in the Red Keep. And yes, I am still disappointed that I couldn’t make the chain of evidence work for methemoglobinemia. It’s always nice to have a mundane twist to something that seems fantastical in a fantasy game. But I guess it’s for the best; google “blue baby” and the syndrome pops right up, giving it all away. And even if they pretended their characters didn’t know it (which would be good roleplaying), the way they would approach getting evidence would be guided by the fact that they know the solution, and it wouldn’t be the organic way that evidence was collected.
“Reading the Room” is a PER based Sociology roll, or its own skill, Read The Room (PER/A)
Shapeshift Note: The IQ loss during Shapeshift will make it harder to do “intelligent” things while in that form. But unless the “intelligent thing” is very sophisticated, it won’t really matter until IQ drops to 7 or less. Due to the IQ roll, this loss of IQ accelerates as time goes on, but it’s not really a problem unless the mage is forced to stay in that form. Once they transform back, their IQ goes back to normal (unless, of course, the IQ dropped to 5, in which case they can’t transform back).