Irobu's Odyssey of Deceit Chapter 4: Winds of Fate

Later that night, Irobu collapsed into her bed, too exhausted to remove her light robe. She thought back on the day. By the time the railcar had arrived in Gargam, it was already early evening. The rest of the family had still been praying anxiously when Nyo, Vikria, and Irobu entered the Vikria compound. All were ecstatic to see young Irobu alive and well. Once the feeling of jubilation had died down, her mother announced that they would have a feast the following day to celebrate the miracle Hekal had performed. Nyo promptly departed for the markets and Irobu tagged along. Unbeknownst to her mother, Irobu covertly brought the small collection of gemstones she had accumulated since she was a child.

One of the few perks of the job, but I’ll get a salary with that promotion. Or I would have, I suppose, she corrected wistfully.

Slipping away from her mother, Irobu had blended into the Sanusites hurrying to make purchases before the markets closed at sunset. Through some heated haggling, she had been able to exchange half of her gemstones for a leather pack and a couple of water skins.

A small price to pay to sate this demon. Still, I’m not going to do everything he commands without question. I’ll get the rest of the stuff if he shows some respect for me and Hekal.

When the various merchants were closing up shop, Irobu reunited with her mother. Wanting to conceal her purchases, she had donned the pack beneath her robe and stuffed the water skins inside. In an effort to hide this newfound bulge, Irobu had made sure to let her mother take the lead. Fortunately, Nyo had been too preoccupied with hauling the foodstuffs and with worrying about the feast preparations to question where Irobu had been, or to thoroughly examine her outfit.

Thankfully she hadn’t; I hated lying to mother and father earlier. They were so concerned about me, and even risked their lives by waiting in that cavern. Yet I turn around and lie to their faces. Well I’m not doing it needlessly, Hekal understands. I must take solace in that.

For someone so pompous and self-absorbed though, that demon has stayed quiet for quite a while. Maybe that was all a hallucination in that cavern and I’ll never hear his shrill voice again. Irobu went to sleep savoring that pleasant thought.

~

An explosion erupted ahead. Irobu’s ears rang as she battled disorientation; her nostrils filled with the scent of smoke and the delectable aroma of roasted meat. Taking in the chaotic scene, she observed she was on a circular walkway lined with bookshelves on one side and a guard rail on the other. A gaping hole loomed in the center of the walkway beyond the rail. There were similar walkways above and below, all housed inside a many-story cylindrical structure. Ladders connected the various levels.

A mote of light bobbed at Irobu’s eye level. Is this a dream? she thought confusedly. I’ve never seen this many books before. There were even several at her feet, though only two were open. One was about the grand deeds of Mteule the Brave and the other appeared to be an archeological report. While examining the tomes on the ground, she noticed that tendrils of smoke were billowing up through the hole in the walkway. Irobu peered over the railing and saw a fresco of Hekal at the bottom of the tower, wreathed in flames. Two black cloaked figures were lying amongst the fire.

Priests of Hekal? They’re not moving much. But what is this place? A tower with books and priests? There’s only one place in Gargam that might fit that description …the Library of Hekal? But that’s off limits to non-priests. This must be a dream, Irobu concluded.

By Diarmid’s beard that hurts! I told you to give me warning when you were going to wake up! a familiar voice roared.

So this isn’t a dream, she groaned. By Hekal, what have you done? Was this your ingenious plan?

This was a part of it. I needed to find out if Nzambt-Hok was compromised. So, I went to the one place that might have that knowledge—this pathetic excuse for a library.

But why is it on fire? And what happened to those priests?

It would seem they live here and are awake at absurd hours of the night. They spotted me reading, so I dealt with them like the indoctrinated scum they are.

Dealt with them? You cooked them alive! You killed two priests of Hekal with my body! And the explosion! Irobu recalled, panicking. She immediately started down a ladder. That was loud enough to wake me up, surely it’ll be loud enough to wake others! Have you any idea what’s next to this place?

How dare you question my methods, girl! I am infinitely wiser than you! What’s next to this place doesn’t matter, for I was about to leave. I see you are already taking my advice.

And you call me the fool! The Mlinzi barracks for the entire city is right next door, that definitely matters! They’ll be swarming this place any minute!

Mlinzi…? Ah yes, the city guards. Fear not, I have plenty more fireballs if any of them find us.

We are not killing anyone else! It was bad enough you murdered those two priests! Irobu fumed as she reached the bottom of the ladder. I just hope Hekal sees the distinction. Landing on the edge of the flaming fresco, Irobu staggered under the heat from the blaze. Only making matters worse, a madly ringing bell rose above the crackling of the flames and penetrated throughout the tower.

Now the fire brigade will be here too. We need to leave! NOW! Irobu frantically looked for an exit through the smoky haze, and finally spotted two hallways leading away from the tower. She ran to one hallway and then the other, only to hear shouts and the clinking of armor echoing down both of them. Idiot! You trapped us!

No, you trapped us since you woke up. I would have handled things perfectly. Like I said, you can still cast more fireballs.

There has to be another way! Irobu darted to the wall of the tower, and realized it was made of stone. At once, the young Vikria made the hand motions and pronounced the strange words that Thrun had taught her whilst stuck in the air bubble.

What do you think you’re doing? Using my magic without my permission? Thrun shrieked. You have no idea what you’re doing!

Irobu winced. ‘You dare question my methods?’ she mimicked. Now you know what it feels like to have your body hijacked. I’m not going to sit idly by while you wreak havoc on my home! Now stop your yammering, you foul creature, I need to focus!

You magic stealing thief! You arcane leech! You…

Ignoring the string of insults, Irobu visualized the stone wall in front of her melting away and offering egress from the growing inferno. The noise and heat drifted away as she focused on the spell. After a moment, pins and needles shot through her hand and the stone blocks softened beneath her touch. Furthermore, a wave of fatigue and lightheadedness washed over her.

Come on, come on. Irobu felt the blocks become less and less viscous as they flowed away. Did I do it? she wondered, opening her eyes. What only moments earlier had been an impregnable stone wall, now bore a door-sized hole, at the bottom of which was a large gray puddle. Cutting short any celebration for her evident success, Irobu saw a floating green orb out of the corner of her eye. What…?

It’s a side effect! Concentrate on making it not pop until we’re through the door! GO!

“Stop, intruder! Face Hekal’s justice!” someone boomed from behind, causing Irobu to jump. Bursting, the green orb subsequently showered the first floor of the tower with a bubbling green liquid. Irobu’s back and neck began to sting and screams filled the lower level of the tower.

What have I done? More pain and suffering? They…they were just doing their jobs.

They won’t die—it’s only acid. I told you to concentrate! So incompetent. At least use this opportunity instead of sulking! Seal up the hole!

Shaking off her guilt, Irobu gritted her teeth against the pain and hopped through the impromptu portal. The refreshing embrace of the cool night air welcomed her as she landed in the stone puddle. It was an embrace that was more intimate than Irobu had expected, for she felt a draft on her back and legs.

Great, my robe is ruined. I’ll need to get rid of it before I head home. Then I’ll need to sneak into my bed while naked? Every minute your plan worsens.

You’ll have time for complaining later! Seal up the hole!

I wouldn’t need to complain if you wouldn’t seize control of my body whenever I shut my eyes! If I knew your plan involved killing innocent Sanusites I’d never have agreed!

That was an unintended side effect, and not a preordained part of my plan, Thrun defended.

Whatever it was, it must stop! You’ve got to stop controlling me! I must have been asleep for hours, but I feel like I haven’t gotten a wink of sleep! All because you had me breaking into libraries and spilling blood all night!

Fine, I’ll cease using your body while you slumber! Whatever it takes to appease you, puny girl! JUST SEAL THE DAMN HOLE!

Unhappily, Irobu bent down and laid her hand on the puddle. She imagined the hole closing over, and several seconds later she felt the—now familiar—tingling sensation ripple through her fingers. When the orange glow from the fire had disappeared, she stood up and studied her surroundings. While the alleyway was empty, it was anything but quiet, for the fire bell joined with the screams and shouts of the fire brigade to create a disturbing soundscape. Once she regained her bearings, Irobu slipped past the Mlinzi cordon and sprinted towards the Vikria compound.

Well did you find what you were looking for? Was it worth risking my life, and slaying those innocents? Irobu interrogated pointedly while she scampered between houses and shacks, sticking to the shadows.

Surprisingly, I found several clues among the paltry selection of reports and surely exaggerated tales. Nzambt-Hok is definitely compromised. If the maps were accurate, it appears to be the site of Hekal’s “Grand Temple”. Information undoubtedly worth the lives of a few fanatics, though your sources are devoid of mentions of the mighty Nzank.

So what will we do? You said you’d leave once we found your body in Nzambt-Hok! It hasn’t even been a day and already my life is suddenly in shambles! I need you gone so I can embrace Hekal’s role for me!

Breathe. Everything that has happened thus far can be overlooked if you stroke Hekal’s ego enough. And you seem more than willing to comply. As for leaving you, there were several more husks prepared as backups during the ascension process. One was near your capital, Sanusi. Hekal likely saw to its destruction—if your savage people did not do so first.

And the others?

One was deep in the mountain range you call the “Imperators”. It was a perilous region even when the Nzank dutifully tended the range, so I can only imagine the terrors that now call it home. The last husk was far to the south of Nzambt-Hok.

South of the Kamal Expanse…don’t tell me it’s in the Spellmarsh?

At least you remember geography. Yes, it would seem that it is.

So our options are the Imperators or the Spellmarsh. By Hekal, I am doomed! A journey there would mean certain death!

Fear not, I will come up with another ingenious plan.

Tell me what your plan is before you go through with it this time!

Fine, if only to allow you to marvel at the brilliance of my tactics. Hmmm, we may need allies…

I doubt any Hekal-fearing Sanusite would help us—which is to say all of them.

We will discuss this later. Your fatigue infects even my noble spirit.

Need I remind you why I’m so tired?

No, no, I’ve already given my word to no longer interrupt your sleep. The word of God-King Thrun of clan Nzambt is never broken. Though if your life is in danger, I will do whatever it takes to survive.

Once she was a decent ways away from the scene, Irobu took shelter between two warehouses. She shredded her tattered robe and stuffed the pieces into a nearby sewer grate. Now left only with her undergarments and the travel pack she had purchased what seemed like a lifetime ago, Irobu carried on her way.

As she neared her compound, there were ever fewer places to hide. The street lights were brighter here, and most lots were surrounded by towering stone walls. These walls connected with those of their neighbors, which meant the area was practically devoid of alleys to slink down. Adding to Irobu’s anxiety, there was even the occasional Mlinzi patrol.

This is going to be tougher than I thought.

Really? Have you forgotten where you live? Thrun needled.

Hush demon. I’ve never had to sneak home at night before, let alone almost naked. If anyone saw me they’d think I was a burglar or think I was diseased because of the acid wounds on my back.

I could make us invisible, Thrun suggested.

Not a chance. I’ve had more than enough magic for one night; I almost fainted from that last spell.

You must build up your tolerance to the flow of magic. It is the first step to becoming a proper spell caster.

Not yet I mustn’t! Something is wrong with your magic, it causes disastrous side effects unlike the priests! I’ll wait until Hekal teaches me to use His magic.

Teaches you to use his magic? What nonsense are you on about? Regardless, my plan will require venturing through dangerous areas, places where we will need to use magic. Moreover, not all of our problems will be solvable with a simple liquefaction spell.

That may be true for the future, but right now you neglect the side effects! Who knows what havoc a spell might cause on all these innocent people just slumbering in their beds?

You see innocents where I see thralls of Hekal. If you won’t use magic then so be it, but do something at least!

I’m trying! We’re almost there. Half an hour after leaving the tower, Irobu had managed to get within two blocks of her home. She was crouched in a tight alleyway between the stone walls of two mansions. Streetlamps glowed brightly ahead and behind, but the lone alleyway was still shrouded in darkness.

This is the final stretch. Hekal guide me. Irobu’s teeth chattered while she poked her head around the corner of the alley. Uniform stone fortifications went on for as far as she could see, and enclosed the straight, well-lit thoroughfare along which the Vikria compound sat. This part of the city was quiet; the silence interrupted only by the occasional cricket and gurgling of fountains behind the gray facades. Taking a deep breath, Irobu sprinted down the avenue, cool air nipping at her exposed arms and legs all the while. She held her pack tightly and focused on dulling her footfalls, her goal now in sight.

Come on, almost there! Irobu cleared the first block and neared the intersection which marked the start of the second. The sharp corners of the walls however, prevented her from knowing if anyone was walking on the perpendicular road. Saying a quick prayer, she darted across, but not before getting a quick sideways glance up and down the lane. Less than ten meters away, three Mlinzi with their backs to her, were trudging down the road.

Must have just missed them, she thought, pulse rising. Maybe Hekal is still watching over me.

I doubt it. Get inside.

Having cleared the last hurdle, Irobu arrived at the front of the Vikria compound moments later. She parted the gilded doors emblazoned with the Vikria seal and glided into the compound proper. Unlike the street, the grounds were unlit, which created a murky maze of exotic plants and statues of Hekal. Irobu relied on the bubbling of their fountain to guide her through the darkness and eventually hobbled to the entrance to her home. Out of an abundance of caution, Irobu waited on the threshold while pressing her ear to the front door.

Nothing. And no lights in the windows either. With a sweat laden hand, Irobu pushed open the portal and snuck into the vestibule. No lights on inside either, good. No one should be up anyway. She then crept through the expansive abode as the thick carpet muffled whatever tiny noise she produced. Before long, Irobu neared her room and popped open the light door. She examined her wardrobe, bed, chest and window in turn.

Everything as I left it.

Great, now sleep.

Finally something we both agree on, Irobu affirmed, fetching a comfortable sleeping robe. Happy to have averted yet another crisis, she collapsed onto her bed. Immediately pain flared in her neck and back. The acid! She grimaced, rolling onto her stomach. I’ll need to get a poultice for that tomorrow. Still exhausted, Irobu quickly drifted off to sleep despite her deepening discomfort and concerns about Thrun’s schemes.

~

Seemingly minutes later, Irobu was slowly roused by nearby shouting. Through cracked eyes, she saw pale light filtering through the window pane and faintly illuminating her room. Shaking off grogginess, she focused on the heated exchange.

“You’ve got the wrong person!” Irobu heard her father yell from outside, voice muffled by the closed door. “We’re faithful servants of Hekal! We do all of our mining properly! This must be a mistake!”

What in Hekal’s name? Father never yells except when absolutely necessary.

“We are here on the orders of the priests of Hekal, and Hekal through them. Our almighty Lord makes no mistakes. Your daughter is a mage and a traitor, and must therefore face Hekal’s justice,” a deep voice replied sternly.

Irobu’s eyes went wide and adrenaline surged through her veins, nevertheless she remained frozen in her bed. The Chombo? Here? NO! NONONONONO! Is this another nightmare? We escaped! They didn’t catch us! No! This can’t be happening! Irobu panicked as the full extent of the situation dawned on her. Her mind filled with images from the harvest festival’s mage executions: pyres constructed before the massive audience. Prisoners wheeled out in cages, ridiculed by the crowd. Their bloodcurdling cries as they were engulfed by the flames, and their writhing as their skin sloughed off. The raucous cheers from the bloodthirsty masses…

“Hand her over and save whatever scraps of your family’s reputation are left,” a different but equally threatening voice commanded.

BREATHE! This is no nightmare, for I am experiencing it too. The priests of Hekal must have relayed their last moments to their deity. I blame you for not informing me of that connection, I would have altered my plans. Nonetheless we aren’t in custody yet. If these are indeed the Chombo, then we must leave. Now, Thrun advised calmly.

“But how? She was anointed! And she was steadfast in her devotion!” her father continued, unable to comprehend the charges.

Okay, okay, you’re right. But my family! I can’t just leave them behind! I’ve ruined the Vikria name and they’ll only suffer more if I escape my punishment! I must turn myself in!

No. You were cast into an impossible situation the moment you agreed to enter the air bubble. It was fate that led you down this path, not your own wrongdoings. Yet Hekal would execute you with little thought to your guilt, innocence, or intent. It is a punishment you do not deserve and one that he does not deserve to mete out. Hekal is but another god meddling in the affairs of mortals to sate his lust for power. Wouldn’t the benevolent god you believe Hekal to be give you a chance to explain yourself? Why would such a holy being allow his followers to revel in the torture and deaths of others? Hekal’s image is built upon lies!

 “This is your final warning. Stand aside, or you too will feel Hekal’s justice,” the first voice demanded.

You are right that the almighty Hekal would never act so hastily and unjustly! But demon, you ignore the simpler explanation, for I know Hekal is with me. These Chombo must be lying, no doubt on the behalf of one of our rivals. Irobu jumped to her feet. Exactly like the uprising 80 years ago. We’ll flee for the moment and return once the priests of Hekal have dealt with their sinister plot.

By Diarmid’s beard, what was I thinking…Regardless, whatever your reasoning, we need to leave! Stop stalling!

“If you are truly here on the orders of our great Lord above…then I will stand aside,” her father quavered.

Invisibility, now!

Ask nicely, I am—

Not the time! Please let me use your magic to turn invisible!

That will suffice for the moment, Thrun grumbled. He recited the words and motions necessary for an invisibility spell, which Irobu hurriedly performed. Her whole body went numb; a downward glance offered no hint of her legs.

It better have worked! Irobu thought as she stepped to the window. Battling a sudden wave of nausea, she opened it and let in the cool morning air. Only a few meters to the ground, and those shrubs should cushion my fall. Her door slammed open behind her, but Irobu had already leapt through the open window and landed amongst the bushes below.

“Where is she?” the second voice boomed from above, rising over the rattling of furniture.

“Close your eyes,” the first voice instructed. Irobu heard a pop from above, and a plume of ash wafted out her window. “Must have already escaped,” the first voice concluded. A whistle pierced the morning calm. “Grab the family, Hekal will tell us if they aided the witch.”

It will only be temporary. Hekal will save them from our rival’s clutches in time, and we’ll be reunited, Irobu assured herself while disentangling her robe from a shrub.

This spell will not last forever. Make your peace and begone.

Irobu admired the lush gardens and regal mansion one last time and hustled to the compound doors. Placing a transparent hand on the family seal, she traced the contours of the pickaxe set against the backdrop of a cave entrance. The young Vikria nudged the door open.

Wait! I hear breathing on the other side of the door! Thrun warned.

A trap?

Seemingly. Shove it open but don’t go through!

Irobu complied by shoving the tall doors open and hopping away from the portal. In response, a pop resounded from the street, followed both by the sound of metal impacting stone and another sizzling, crackling sound. Blowing through the partially opened door, puffs of gray dust coated the busts of Hekal by the entryway.

They suspect we are invisible. We must wait until this dust settles before we make our escape, Thrun strategized.

Another whistle from outside the compound blared two sharp notes. Clinging to the stone wall and fearing capture, Irobu endured numerous tense minutes. From her vantage point on the inside edge of the compound, she saw the front door of the Vikria mansion burst open. Out ran several men in leather armor. These well-muscled men had iridescent nets strapped to their back, and bundukis in their hands.

Irobu shivered. So it was the Chombo; they’re even more intimidating in action. Unaware of Irobu’s presence, the three men continued through the cloud that was wafting into the Vikria gardens.

“Any sign of them?” Irobu heard one of the Chombo ask.

“The front gate here opened and we threw out powder bombs and nets. Didn’t catch anything though, and she left no trace, Sir. Must have blinked past our perimeter,” another Chombo answered.

 “Understood. Inform the rest of the corps to be on high alert, and consult the priests to see if Hekal has any more guidance,” the first voice dictated. More minutes passed while Irobu nervously watched the dust cloud thin. As she continued her vigil, she saw two Chombo walk back towards the Vikria mansion. One went left and one went right.

They’re coming back in? What for?

See those balls in their hands? More powder bombs. They’re being thorough to ensure that we’re not still hiding here. This may prove problematic.

Irobu noted that the cloud in front of the compound was hanging lower; it now rose only to waist height. Only a little more time and the dust will settle! Come on!

They know that too. Get ready to run.

Good point, Irobu admitted. Padding her footfalls, she scurried in front of the compound doors and halted several meters back. She waited until the Chombo raised their powder bombs and then flew forward like a gust of wind. Cloud’s still knee high! Not going to be a neat exit!

With that in mind, the young Sanusite hurdled through the compound doors in an attempt to traverse as much of the plume as possible before her legs were revealed. While airborne, Irobu glimpsed a Chombo standing on the far side of the cloud; sunlight glinted off his steel helmet. Vigilantly, he held his net in both hands and was scanning the area. Thanks to her running start, Irobu managed to land half a meter into the street. Nevertheless, the bottom of her sleeping robe was immediately covered with a fine film of the gray dust. Irobu crouched low while keeping the rest of her body above the dust cloud.

“I’ve got you now, witch!” the lone Chombo bellowed as he tossed his net at the escaping Vikria. It sailed harmlessly over her head and came clattering down inside the compound’s entryway. “Shit, how short are you?” he blurted, reaching for his whistle. Not intending to stick around, Irobu raced for the outskirts of the city. In turn, the Chombo wasn’t inclined to give up, which led him to chase after the ring of dust while furiously blowing his whistle.

In spite of the pursuit, Irobu continued to bolt through the waking city. Additional Chombo started to join in the chase. Meticulously establishing ambushes to cut her off, the Chombo forced the escaping Vikria to veer into alleyways and across streets that were growing busier by the minute. Her lungs burned and sweat poured down her invisible face, though she ran on. Irobu tried to tear off the bottom of her robe between strides but decided to stop after she nearly tripped.

Just take off the robe!

But we’ll freeze when the sun sets! It’ll be a repeat of last night! Don’t you have a spell that can get rid of this dust?

I’m surprised you didn’t faint when you cast the invisibility spell, now is not the time to test your magical stamina! For Nzam’s sake take off the robe!

Fine! When she started down the next alleyway Irobu hoisted the stained robe over her head. Luckily it stayed invisible, which allowed Irobu to avoid the barrels cluttering her path. Curses rang out behind her as the ring of dust rose into the air. Despite the chaos, Irobu successfully disrobed by the time she exited the alley. Darting around the corner and onto the street, Irobu let go of her dust stained sleepwear. Simultaneously however, she heard the shattering of pottery to her left. Irobu leapt away from the sound and wove through the passersby on the street. A commotion was starting around what Irobu assumed was the impact site; Gargamites were left coughing and shouting in confusion. The Chombo shouted back, anger latent in their cries.

Another powder bomb, Thrun assessed. Good instincts.

A compliment? Changing your tactics, demon?

Merely pointing out your rare adequate performance. Of course, if I were in control, I would have taken off the robe ages ago when you were only being chased by the one goon. And stop calling me demon. I demand to be called by my proper name, God-King Thrun of clan Nzambt.

Whatever you say, and I’ll call you Thrun. Nothing more, nothing less.

That is wholly unacceptable! I am tired of your disrespect! I will—

Okay, okay, we can talk about this once we’re outside of the city. I need to focus for now! And focus she did, as she dodged and weaved through the hectic avenues. Irobu evaded craftsmen and their servants carrying elegant statues or their latest inventions, workers hauling wagons carrying ore and fertilizer, and adolescents hurrying towards the heart of the city, clad in the green robes of Gargam Academy. Passing the latter, Irobu felt a pang of regret.

Bigger and better things are in my future. I must remember that. I’m sure I’ll be able to visit home occasionally, Irobu imagined hopefully as she flowed with the assorted traffic—careful to pass undetected. She also walked by several more patrols of Chombo during her flight from the city. These armed guards were diligently watching the stream of wagons and pedestrians, further heightening Irobu’s anxiety. Their intimidating stares washed over her without incident however, thanks to her ongoing invisibility spell.

The rest of her escape was uneventful; Irobu adjusted to the rhythms of the moving crowd and soon glimpsed one of the city gates over the sea of pedestrians. Merchant stalls lined the street and worsened the congestion with their wooden shops. A few had set up small fire pits over which they rotated chunks of meat. The slow cooking filled the gridlocked street with the scent of roasted oribi and ibex. Transfixed by the spinning morsels, Irobu licked her lips and her stomach grumbled.

Focus! We can get food when we’re outside!

Irobu blinked and looked away. What do you mean we’ll get food when we’re outside? There’s nothing but mines and farms outside the city for kilometers.

Even you should be able to handle the spell to create food. While I would prefer to use as little magic as possible, I do not want your animalistic urges to endanger us further. Someone almost bumped into you while you were lusting for that slab of meat.

What? Really? She looked back, saw an old man shuffling towards her, and quickly sidled out of his way. Irobu promptly turned her attention to the gates ahead. Chombo and Mlinzi lazily patrolled the checkpoint, all the while barely batting an eye at those traveling past.

Why are they so calm? Is this another ploy? Baiting me forward?

I doubt it. It would seem Hekal and his lackeys are overestimating us. They saw the havoc we wrought at the library. Who would expect a mage that powerful to run from a city on foot when he would surely have any number of transportation spells at his disposal? Your weakness works to our advantage; the priests may have spent their efforts preparing invisible barriers around the city.

Or perhaps it is Hekal giving me his blessing, she thought.

I highly doubt that, Thrun retorted.

Whatever the case, Irobu resurveyed the scene. Everything seemed normal: citizens flowed steadily in and out of Gargam while the Mlinzi and Chombo barely kept watch. They jostled the occasional passerby but were otherwise aloof. Abruptly, the travelers and guards alike froze in place. They turned their heads downward and turned their palms towards the sky.

Hekal’s sermon is starting…but I’m not hearing it, Irobu thought with alarm.

Hekal has forsaken you, as he did in the cavern, Thrun stated nonchalantly.

He would never. He likely doesn’t want you to hear his divine words, Irobu assured herself.

“Praised be Hekal,” the citizens and guards declared in unison.

“Praised be Hekal,” Irobu echoed a moment later.

Idiot, you’ll expose us!

Bad habit, she grunted. With the sermon concluded, traffic resumed its unrelenting pace in and out of the city. Gradually, Irobu approached and easily traversed the gates.

That was…anti-climactic, Irobu thought, continuing to nervously peer around for an ambush. As her adrenaline wore off, exhaustion took its place. Her calves and quads ached, and new blisters were forming on her feet. The leather straps of her travel pack had also chafed her shoulders, meaning that each step was accompanied by a multitude of pain throughout her body.

I was right again, Thrun declared. Now that we have escaped their clutches, we have other important matters to attend to. First and foremost, you will call me God-King Thrun, the shortest possible title that begins to near a proper description of my magnificence. Not demon, not Thrun or anything else. Understood?

Really? That’s the most pressing thing on your mind?

Yes, I’m sick of your flagrant disrespect. Do you agree to refer to me properly from now on?

Fine. Where are we going now?

Ahem, that was second on the list of things to discuss. We need to hide and recoup our strength. Unfortunately, here I must rely on your ‘wealth’ of knowledge about the local area.

Let me think…the foothills of the Imperators might do. Not too many Sanusites in those parts, and there’s streams and hyrax.

Need I remind you we can create our own sustenance? Apart from that error, the idea sounds decent. You’re in control, don’t tarry.

Now that the immense city walls were at last behind her, Irobu broke away from the merchants and pilgrims leaving Gargam. She walked through the fields of corn and cassava that surrounded the city while being mindful not to disturb the young sprouts or the farmers tending them.

Pick up the pace, the spell won’t last much longer. We need to be out of sight of the city.

I’m not exactly running at maximum capacity, she thought back, though she sped up to a brisk walk. The sun bore down on Irobu’s unseen form as she hustled south towards the Imperator Mountains. They loomed over the flat farmland, a maw of snowcapped teeth on the horizon.

Still the same breathtaking view as when I was a boy.

I didn’t know gods had childhoods. But indeed, another one of Hekal’s great creations.

The ‘God’ portion of my title is preemptive, but will be accurate soon enough. And did you say the Imperators were one of Hekal’s creations? Surely you jest? No? I should have expected as much from a fanatic, foolish Irobu. Aonachd the Grand Creator created the Imperator Mountains, along with the rest of the world. Aonachd also created the other gods, Dioh and Hekal, Móhuàn and Buain and all the rest.

Cease your endless attempts to turn me against Hekal! You waste your thoughts spouting that propaganda. Hekal created the other gods to witness his grand power, and then he created everything and everyone in the world.

Your ignorance is staggering. Where did you learn that? In Hekal’s scriptures?

Of course, every Sanusite commits them to memory by their tenth year. For a de—God-King—you’re awful poorly informed.

Thrun groaned. I see this is a pointless endeavor.

Yes, my faith will not be swayed, Irobu declared, continuing to plod through the fields. Gargam was shrinking behind her, its walls and towers blurring into a blob of stone and brick. A short while later, her limbs grew increasingly opaque. Noticing the transition, Irobu crouched low between the rows of crops and spun around. The surrounding fields were empty and the closest farm seemed several kilometers away. Besides the rumblings of far off tractors, the field was quiet. Notwithstanding the apparent safety, Irobu felt unsettled.

It’s too quiet, she remarked. Irobu then looked down at her exposed arms, legs, and torso, and blushed. And walking around like this in broad daylight borders on breaking a Commandment.

No, this is what you’d expect from an empty field. Hekal and his priests have bigger things to worry about than what you’re wearing. Keep moving!

She hunkered down until she was completely visible, still clad only in her pack and undergarments. With the coast clear, the young Vikria rose and maintained her southerly heading despite concerns about her own immodesty.

After numerous hours, the exhausted pair arrived at the rolling peaks and valleys that marked the border of the foothills. A verdant covering of deciduous trees draped these remote hills. Venturing forth on aching legs, Irobu took shelter in the expansive forest. She picked a spot at the base of a hill to set up her camp and collected leaves for bedding. Once she sat down, Thrun taught her the spells to create food and water. Following his instructions, Irobu made three yellow bars materialize in her hands and filled the water skins in her pack. Her feet tingled, although no other side effects obviously manifested themselves.

What are these things? Irobu wondered, taking a whiff of the dense rectangular bar. It smelled faintly of honey.

The chulp bar, one of many of the Nzank’s great creations. Three a day provide enough nutrition to live off of indefinitely. They were intended for servants, nevertheless they will suffice for now. Eat them so your stomach stops groaning. Not needing to be told twice, Irobu devoured the chulp bars. While bland, they did sate her lingering hunger. She washed them down with the freshly created water in her water skins.

How about another robe? It’s already getting chilly in the shade here.

Fine. This will be good practice for growing your stamina anyway. Thrun again recited a set of instructions that Irobu followed closely. With a “poof”, a thick woolen robe instantly appeared in her hands. Simultaneously, a fist-sized ember also appeared before Irobu, and rapidly floated deeper into the woods.

Get down! Thrun shrieked.

Without hesitation, Irobu dove onto her leaf bed. Heartbeats later, an explosion rocked the forest that buffeted the young Sanusite with a torrent of hot air. A fireball? Irobu inquired as she got back up on her feet, quickly spotting the devastated area. Five meters away, a ring of trees had been reduced to smoldering husks; small flames jumped to adjacent trunks.

Obviously, what else erupts in an explosion of fire and heat? Curse this stupid enchantment. But don’t stand around, go put out that fire or all of Gargam will know where we’re hiding!

Remember, this wouldn’t have happened if I had kept that robe, ‘God-King’, Irobu complained as she stamped out the nascent fire.

And remember we’d be strung up by now if you hadn’t gotten rid of it.

Using her remaining water, she successfully put out the flames. Irobu then looked towards the sky through the newly formed clearing, and noted the trickle of gray smoke rising into the air.

Either way, constantly using all this magic is reckless. Simply because something can be done with magic doesn’t mean it should be done that way. We’ll need to move our camp because of the smoke, might as well move somewhere sustainable. There should be tributaries of the Utulivu River nearby, Irobu informed.

You’d have us drink river water? Have you savages not realized what could be living in there, especially this far downstream?

If the alternative is burning the forest down, we’ll drink it. Hush ‘God-King’.

At least boil the water before drinking it! It’s bad enough your mind is infested with delusions, let’s keep your body infestation free. With them both in agreement, the pair hiked further into the foothills. Green light filtered down through the foliage and birds chirped happily from above, like colorful ornaments providing a warm welcome. Small groove-toothed rats chittered and retreated to their dens as she hiked between trunks. Continuing on, Irobu finally heard the babbling of a brook. She followed the noise until she came upon a small stream that wove through the serene woodlands. Choosing a nearby depression to make camp, she crafted another bed of dry leaves to sleep on. Once her makeshift camp was assembled, Irobu promptly laid down, thoroughly spent from the overwhelming day. The calm atmosphere and bubbling of the stream quickly sent Irobu to sleep.

When she awoke, the forest’s verdant glow had departed; the sun’s warming rays now fell only on the branches of the tallest trees. Using the last of the light, Irobu scoured the forest for flint and dead wood, fortunately finding both before darkness descended upon the sloping groves. She returned to her camp, started a fire, and used Thrun’s knowledge to summon a small cauldron to boil the river water. Despite Thrun’s continued grumbling, she quenched her thirst with the river water and returned to her much needed slumber.

The next several days passed excruciatingly slowly for Irobu, who was plagued with worries about the fate of her family. On top of that heavy burden, her anxiety intensified due to the ongoing absence of Hekal’s sermons. It had been two days since she heard her Lord’s voice— already the longest gap she could remember. She wandered through the woods by day to keep herself from losing hope. Her wandering also allowed her to look for the hyrax Proctor Fassil had taught about. Here her luck ran out, for in spite of many hours spent hiking about, Irobu had yet to lay eyes on one of the small hairy creatures.

After going to bed hungry two nights in a row, Thrun discovered that Irobu’s schooling hadn’t covered how to actually catch a hyrax. This revelation led to another fierce argument. In the end, Irobu relented and agreed to create more chulp bars; this time enough to fill her travel pack. The casting went off without a hitch. Irobu persisted in her routine of wandering and sleeping for two more days until she grew too antsy to wait any longer. On the fifth morning, Irobu grabbed her pack and started heading north.

What do you think you’re doing?

We’ve waited around long enough. It’s time to return to Gargam and check in on my family. The rebellion should have ended by now; five days is plenty of time for reinforcements to come from Sanusi.

My plan is that we travel west and away from the Sanusites. Nothing good awaits us back there.

We can continue with your plan as soon as I know my family is okay.

There are other ways to glean that information. Might I suggest that instead of traipsing down to Gargam, we spy on the city? We barely made it away last time, it would be much safer to use a spell to remotely check on your family.

Irobu wrinkled her nose and slowed her pace. Another spell? I’ve already cast what, three or four while we’ve been out here?

Four. Think how many more you’d need to cast if we get into the city and the Chombo are waiting for us, foolish Irobu.

Fine, she conceded. What do we need for this spell?

We need a calm pool of water. I trust even you can handle the menial preparations.

Irobu backtracked to her campsite and picked up the cauldron she had left behind. Biting back retorts, Irobu filled it in the stream and set it on a level patch of ground.

Here you go, your magnificence, your eminence, your royal god-kingliness, she thought sarcastically, staring at the reflection captured by the cauldron. Gray tree trunks held aloft an emerald sky that rippled with the wind.

That should suffice. The cauldron that is, but not my title. That still needs work.

            Tell me how to cast the spell so we can get a move on.

Thrun proceeded to rattle off the gestures and incantations, directions that were notably longer this time. There. This will be the most difficult spell you’ve cast yet, so don’t faint. I refuse to suffer through that painful process once more. Submerge both of your hands and begin the recitation.

Slowly, Irobu punctured the green veil captured by the cauldron; the calm water was cool against her grimy hands. With mounting nervousness, Irobu carried out the arcane ritual, eager for updates and at the same time afraid of what she might see. She bent low over the cauldron as she completed the spell, both from sudden lightheadedness and from a desire to see the images on the water. Irobu paused while the feeling faded. Out of the corner of her eye however, she saw a dense plume of dark smoke. Raising her head revealed that it was a tractor-sized cloud, hovering half a meter off the ground. Propitiously for Irobu and Thrun, it was drifting away on the wind.

Is that supposed to happen? Irobu inquired as she kept her hands submerged. The plume glided away; trees were withering in its wake and creaking alarmingly.

No, but it doesn’t matter. Just don’t breathe that in, whatever you do. Now think carefully of where you want to observe.

Well I’ve been gone five days…so today must be the day of rest. My family should all be at home if everything is normal. Her mind made up, Irobu concentrated on the Vikria compound in Gargam. She imagined the protective stone walls, the well maintained gardens, and the familiar mansion where she had been raised. Irobu stared down at the pool of water, and moments later, her reflection gradually shifted into a view of what she desired.

Now coating the water was the gray Vikria compound, surrounded by the lush foliage and statues that Irobu had sprinted past five days earlier. Faint bubbling emanated from the cauldron. As the image came into focus, Irobu realized the view was that from the ornate compound doors. She could practically smell her mother’s prized orchids. Next, footsteps filtered through the view, and soon Irobu saw the backs of her family as they strolled towards their mansion. They were wearing their finest robes: the ceremonial onyx garments only worn during services honoring Hekal. The other Vikrias were speaking softly to each other.

I see father and mother, Desta and Ora, there’s Tibra too, and…that’s Sebele. Whole family is there, and they look okay. Irobu’s heart stopped racing. But what are they saying? She turned her ear to the cauldron.

“See, I told you all everything would be alright. Hekal would never let the Chombo take over,” her father reminded.

“But to think Proctor Fassil and our very neighbors were in league with them! Framing Irobu to ruin our reputation. What a strange twist,” her mother added.

“That’s right mom, strange indeed. The other proctors were saying it might be months before they find a replacement. Irobu’s studies will have to wait,” Desta confirmed. Did Desta just call mother, “mom”? No, I must have misheard. Can’t you make them sound louder?

No, I’m afraid not. Listen.

“Same as the rest of us. Sebele and father will have to go out scouting for more veins, and with Hekal’s guidance, they should find some soon. It’s a shame about the cave-in at our last mine though, they always take so long to establish,” her mother remarked.

“Irobu isn’t missing much then. She’ll have a boring few months when she returns. May Hekal watch over her and guide her back to us when He is ready,” her father declared.

The rest of the family nodded as they ventured inside. Irobu basked in the sight of her home a minute longer and then took her numb hands out of the cauldron.

Perfect! Our reputation has been saved and the Chombo plot has been stopped! Despite your intrusion, it looks like everything will turn out alright for my family. Let’s start our journey, Irobu thought excitedly.

Perhaps there is still hope for you yet, foolish Irobu.

Where would you have us go? To the Imperators or the Spellmarsh? Both seem like death sentences.

As I mentioned when we last broached the topic, we will need allies. Through my studies in the ‘Library’ of Hekal, I discovered a group called the ‘Esteemed Sodality of Excursionists’ that once conducted contracts in the Spellmarsh. They are supposedly headquartered in the town of Duncaster.

I’ve heard mention of this guild in some of Proctor Fassil’s lessons. At one point they were powerful enough to make the Mages of Qert jealous—not easy by any measure. They may be able to provide the assistance we need. Though if anything that scoundrel Fassil said is true, Duncaster is a backwards, godless, garbage heap of a city. They still use horses. And the city is notoriously corrupt.

We should investigate this Sodality no matter how vile its surroundings; otherwise we will never part. The best path would be to head northwest to circumvent the Imperators, and once we reach the heart of the Ugboku jungle, to head south into the Duncaster Free State.

Alright. While I’m not thrilled about nearing the jungle, it’s definitely better than passing through the Imperators. Altering her course, Irobu turned away from Gargam to follow the edge of the foothills to the northwest.

Over the span of several months, Irobu and Thrun followed their extensive route around the vast mountain range. While she still hadn’t received any of Hekal’s sermons since finding Thrun, the rhythm of hiking during the day and foraging at dusk distracted her. Finding kindling for a fire and water to boil in her cauldron was another part of her new routine; Thrun’s routine consisted of vociferously complaining. The young Vikria had yet to improve at hunting, and so every week she created more of the chulp bars with Thrun’s permission. Side effects materialized numerous times, the worst of which was when an enraged rhinoceros was summoned in their camp. Through quick thinking and quicker reflexes, Irobu escaped up a tree unscathed. Fortuitously for her progress, the beast vanished an hour later and she went on her way with her pack full of chulp bars.

The days grew longer and hotter as they skirted the border between the foothills and the jungle. Upon cresting a bare hillock, Irobu caught her first glimpse of the jungle proper. Majestic birds flitted between towering trees; their exotic calls drifted up to her. Several small animals swung among the branches as well. These energetic creatures emitted shrieks of their own, though much less pleasant than the birdsong. Beneath the towering giants sat dense underbrush, with bushes and vines sporting expansive leaves to vie for every last ray of sunlight.

What a strange and beautiful place, Irobu remarked as she savored the vantage point.

Beautiful? You find all that chaos beautiful? This jungle is an affront to progress and another insult from the gods above! All the rich mineral deposits lying below that mess are practically impossible to mine. Trees that produce toxic gas when you chop them down? Soil that houses legions of antagonizing insects? What is the purpose of land and trees if not to be harvested and used?

Hekal did not make every mountain to be mined, or every tree to be chopped down. There’s plenty of other minerals in the world and likewise for timber. Are you unable to enjoy the splendor that the almighty Hekal has created? Or has greed clouded your vision?

Again with the Hekal nonsense! Aonachd created this world and threw us mortals into it to ogle at his creations! He wanted us to praise him like sheep before we expire, and have our progeny fill our places in a perpetual cycle to feed his ego…

Irobu tuned out Thrun’s tirade; she had grown accustomed to such outbursts during their many weeks together. From her perch on the hill, Irobu spotted unusual stone formations rising up from the rainforest far to her right. These smooth stone protrusions were stained with white splotches that sparkled in the afternoon sun.

What are those? Irobu inquired, interrupting Thrun’s rant.

Those shameful excuses for towers? They’re ruins from a civilization that predated even the Nzank. They were in decline as we rose to prominence, though they didn’t have much room to decline since they lived in undeveloped jungle. An additional unremarkable culture lost to the sands of time.

Truly? They roamed the land before the Nzank, and the Nzank long before the Sanusites? What were they like?

Of course, why would I lie about a bygone civilization or basic chronology? What are you getting at, foolish Irobu?

The priests of Hekal teach that our ancestors built buildings in the Ugboku jungle, proof of our ingenuity from antiquity. The priests say it was one of the reasons Hekal first noticed the Sanusites, and decided to guide our technological advancement.

More lies, Thrun scoffed. The creators of these structures were beast-like; hulking giants covered in fur. They…became extinct. The jungles were uninhabited when I began my ascension; no one was stupid enough to try to live there.

Scrunching up her face, Irobu tried to make sense of the contradiction. But why would the priests make that up? Aha! Irobu exclaimed after a moment of confliction. Another trick to turn me against the great Hekal!

Oh please, foolish Irobu. I don’t care what you believe as long as we end up in the Spellmarsh and retrieve my new body. If you are too feeble-minded to accept the truth, then so be it. I will not lie to fit Hekal’s revisionist historical narrative. Proceed onward. We’ve tarried long enough.

Along with her uninvited guest, Irobu proceeded down the hill and left the scenic vantage point behind. Moving forward, the pair stuck to their camping and foraging routine as they slowly trekked about the western edge of the Imperators. In spite of Thrun’s best efforts, the jungle still captivated Irobu, and she savored any glimpses she gleaned through the foliage. Not even darkness could stop Irobu’s curiosity, for the calm foothill nights were pierced by roars and screeches that intermittently burst forth from the rainforest below. Though eventually after months of travel, it was time to turn south, much to Irobu’s disappointment.

Such a picturesque place deserves to be experienced up close. I’ll return once my life is on track, she promised.

That cursed jungle is certainly not going anywhere, Thrun bemoaned.

Good, everyone should have the chance to see this creation of Hekal.

Irobu subsequently descended from the foothills while Thrun grumbled about her ignorance. Incrementally, the forest coating the hillocks thinned. The trees made way for small shrubs, and they in turn for thick tufts of grass. This grass extended as far south as the eye could see, a vast, flat ocean of green and beige that rippled under the continual winds of the steppe.

It’s so…empty, Irobu thought as she appraised the new environment. Like the savannas around Sanusi in a way.

Yes, another vast waste of space devoid of proper civilization. Horses once roamed these barren lands. One would undoubtedly shorten our trip, no matter how backwards the idea seems.

Scanning the breezy steppe in front of her, Irobu noted faint lines of smoke on the horizon, and little else.

I thought you said these plains were devoid of civilization? Irobu queried, eyeing the dark lines in the distance.

Devoid of proper civilization. Likely simpletons who are barely intelligent enough to raise livestock, let alone accomplish anything of value. Ignore them, we must press on.

A shame, Irobu replied disappointedly as she plodded further south along the dense turf.

And south they headed, bombarded day after day by the summer sun and the constant breeze. There was nothing to forage in the sweeping plains, and only the occasional pond for water. Consequently, Irobu had to rely on magic for sustenance. While this arcane nutrition worked for a time, eventually a mishap while creating the chulp bars left Irobu wreathed in flames. Luckily, vigorous rolling smothered the fire, but the pair decided they’d pressed their luck long enough. With Thrun’s assistance, Irobu recited a spell to attract animals in the hope of finding a mount to shorten their time on the steppe. First came a horde of sheep—their arrival heralded by a chorus of “baahs”. Several hours later, a brown horse approached. It was uncannily friendly, so much so that it waded through the flock and nuzzled up to Irobu. She rubbed its side and ran her hand through its silken mane; the horse neighed in delight.

It may be slow and inefficient, but it is does have a certain charm, Irobu smiled.

That’s the spell. Otherwise it would have bitten your hand off and defecated all over you by now.

Good to know, Irobu replied, retracting her hand. With a concerted effort, Irobu was able to mount the wild horse, but not before tearing slits in her woolen robe to allow her to part her legs. The horse proved a trusty steed along the last leg of their quest. Either the horse genuinely liked Irobu, or the spell lingered for a few weeks, for it stayed by her side even when she slept. Irobu’s new equine companion allowed her to travel twice as far each day. Her battered feet appreciated the respite; however the bareback riding caused her thighs and rear to blister. Notwithstanding the pain, Irobu didn’t relent in her aggressive pace southwards. When Irobu was hoping to never see a horse or a blade of grass again, she discerned a large keep on the horizon.

At last! Irobu thought. We’ve almost crossed this awful place!

Yes. And now into an entirely different, but equally awful, place.

We shall see, ‘God-King’.

A number of excruciating days of riding later, the young Vikria neared the resolute fortification that marked the borders of the Duncaster Free State. It was even more striking up close, bathed in the afternoon sun. 40 or 50 meters tall, the keep was a massive cube that rivaled Hekal’s finest temples in size. At the center of this unsightly keep rested a rectangular tower; it soared over the cube below and undoubtedly gave an excellent view of the plains to the north. The complex was surrounded by a high curtain wall of roughhewn stone. In turn, this curtain wall was surrounded by a smattering of wooden buildings, and wooden palisades had been erected surrounding these outlying structures.

This ‘stonework’, if you can even call it that, is abysmal! Look at how lazily those stones were cut! Any Nzank who did such sloppy work would be hanged! And the architecture! A giant gray cube? How hideous!

Another rare time when we agree. Any craftsman who designed such a hideous fort would be disowned by their family and peers. Have these ‘Freestate-ers’ no consideration of aesthetics?

Or perhaps these savages are all blind, otherwise I know not how they could stand the sight of this eyesore.

Their complaining continued as the horse trotted the final couple kilometers towards the keep. Irobu noted the gates of the palisades part and witnessed three mounted soldiers funnel through them. The trio were adorned in garish outfits of mismatched armor pieces and were heading in Irobu’s direction. They all bore a green symbol on their chest. Resolutely, the band met Irobu a kilometer from the looming keep.

The trio halted their horses only meters from Irobu. “‘Oo goes there?” one of the horsemen asked through a winged great helm. Reverberating inside his headwear, his deep voice sounded tinny and mechanical. Flanked by his two companions in less flashy helmets, the speaker clearly seemed in charge. Irobu didn’t miss the fact that their hands rested on the hilts their weapons. Having closed the distance, she also caught a better look at the emblem on their chest. Inside the green circle was a small white bird that sported a black head and crimson feet. “Milady? Can you speak?”

“Yes. I am Irobu Vikria of Gargam,” Irobu replied haughtily as she stared into the slits of the great helm. “And you?”

“I am Ser Robyn of Jarren’s Outpost, and these are Sers Pickett and Moss. And you said you’re from Gargam? Well…you do look it. What’s a Sanusite doing all the way down ‘ere? And bareback on an ‘orse no less?”

“I have important business to attend to in Duncaster. Where is the closest place where I could secure lodgings?”

“What kind of business?” Ser Robyn prodded.

Tell him. He won’t let us in otherwise, and we desperately need a bath and a real bed.

“I seek to join the group: ‘The Sodality of Excursionists’,” Irobu divulged after a moment of deliberation.

Ser Robyn turned in his saddle to look back at his companions. “You ‘ear that? She wants to join the Sodality!” Ser Robyn repeated and the three men erupted into laughter. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve ‘eard this year! I didn’t know Sanusites could make jokes!” Their laughter continued until Ser Robyn turned back around and met Irobu’s cold gaze. “Oi! Enough of that men,” Robyn commanded. “Wha…? You’re serious? We meant no offense milady, it’s just that…volunteers are rare now-a-days.”

“And why is that?” Irobu quizzed, maintaining her stare at Ser Robyn.

“Ah…it’s just that…well why don’t you see for yourself once you reach Duncaster. You’ve traveled so far to get ‘ere, ‘oo am I to dissuade you with my opinion. There’s an inn back at Jarren’s Outpost where you can stay for the night. We’ll show you the way, Miss Vikria,” Ser Robyn offered as he yanked on his reins and made for the palisade gate.

“That will suffice,” Irobu replied, and followed the riders into the outpost. As she passed under the wooden gate, Irobu observed another trio of knights immediately on her left. They were clad in similarly mismatched armor, and were eyeing her curiously from beneath their steel helms. She brushed off their attention and kept trailing Ser Robyn. The outpost consisted of a single roadway that led from the palisade gate to the curtain wall of the keep. Wagons and troughs lined this thoroughfare, further congesting an already narrow corridor.

“The inn is right over there,” Ser Robyn informed after a brief ride down the cluttered street. He pointed to a two story building on the right. “Tie your ‘orse up …ah how foolish of me! You ‘avn’t a saddle or reins!”

“It’s fine. This beast is not mine. See to it that it returns to the plains,” Irobu ordered dismissively as she dismounted. Grimacing, she walked bowlegged towards the inn without looking back or waiting for a reply.

Irobu took a deep breath at the precipice of the inn, a preparation she immediately regretted as her nostrils were inundated with the stench of horse manure. Suppressing the urge to gag, she confidently pushed open the door. Inside was a smoky parlor crammed with a rough group of frontiersmen, hunters, and other, more unsavory individuals. They stopped their conversations upon hearing the door creak open.

Look at this sty! They still use torches for light! How filthy! Thrun griped in disgust.

Shut it. This place is bad enough without hearing your constant whining.

The other patrons watched her every move as she traded the last of her gem collection to the innkeep. In exchange, she received a room for the night, several lamb chops, and the use of a small tub to bathe in. While the lamb chops were overcooked, the bed was hard and the innkeep had only cold water of questionable quality and tidbits of soap, all were welcome comforts after the endless nights in the wilderness.

Irobu, having once more tasted the gifts of civilization, felt like a new woman the next morning. Rising at the crack of dawn, she was eager to leave the dingy establishment and be on her way. The innkeeper stopped her as she hustled out the door however. Wordlessly, he handed Irobu a small coin pouch and a note from Ser Robyn. In sloppy, meandering script, Robyn wrote that he had decided to keep the wild horse, and felt the coins were a just payment for the steed. He wished her luck on her quest. Carelessly, Irobu tossed the note away and stashed the coin pouch in her undergarments. She subsequently braved the deserted street outside the inn and was forced to wade through the mud on her way out of the outpost.

Back on the road, Irobu followed a cobblestone highway leading south and passed the occasional knight or hunter. Much to her annoyance, these passersby were intrigued at the sight of a foreign adolescent, and consequently stopped to talk to her. They too showed incredulity at her desire to join the Sodality. Irobu paid them little mind and would quickly carry on her way. Later that day she crossed a stone bridge over a river, whose construction received harsh criticism from Irobu and Thrun alike.

Hopping from inn to inn, Irobu persisted on her trek down the road. She was met with the same curious stares and questions that she was growing irritatingly familiar with, though she did her best to remain civil with these perceived simpletons. Eventually the roadway led Irobu to the heartland of the Free State. Apart from a river abutting the road, vibrant crops filled her vision. They rustled softly with the wind. Unsurprisingly, Irobu’s superiority complex roared to life when she walked by a team of farmers planting seeds by hand.

How inefficient, she critiqued. I bet one Sanusite farmer produces more crops than their entire village.

And a Nzankian mage could create that much food in an instant.

Irobu traveled onward. Her feet ached anew and she longed for the railcars of her home. Her coins ran out on her seventh day in the Free State, right as she was nearing Duncaster. From afar, Irobu examined the sprawling capital. It straddled a river and sat on the coast, surrounded by a network of busy roads that sloped down to converge on the low lying metropolis. The city itself was a splotch of black and gray interspersed with marble highlights, the largest of which was a towering castle in the center of the city. This castle’s elegant towers and spires soared over the uneven buildings of the rest of Duncaster.

That must be the Sodality’s headquarters, Irobu reasoned.

If they constructed that, they may not be as bad as the rest of these imbeciles.

Irobu also observed that the city was segmented by a series interlocking walls of differing styles. Similar to Jarren’s outpost, a series of shantytowns and destitute villages ringed the outermost stone wall.

Praised be Hekal for preventing Sanusites from having such a miserable existence, Irobu thought as she trod through the downtrodden villages.

It doesn’t take a god to prevent poverty; any intelligent leader can achieve the same results, Thrun asserted. None of the Nzank lived like this.

Well perhaps if the Nzank had worshipped a god, Nzambt-Hok wouldn’t have been compromised and we wouldn’t have to be here, Irobu replied heatedly. Thrun grumbled momentarily but soon went quiet.

Having traversed the outlying hovels, Irobu finally reached one of the city’s gates. The guards posted there were too busy ensuring the steady flow of traffic to ask Irobu—or anyone else for that matter—any questions. Once inside, she wove between the wagons and handcarts that clogged the byzantine streets in an attempt to head straight for the castle. Unfortunately this cityscape was a far cry from the orderly Gargam, thus Irobu repeatedly hit upon dead ends and gridlocked roadways. In an ill-fated effort to bypass one of these traffic jams, Irobu turned down a shadowy alleyway. She crept a few meters further before she heard footsteps close behind; spinning around exposed that two rag adorned paupers were shuffling towards her…

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