Chapter 6- Mercs and Holy Men

A hen’s call woke Gane as the sunlight began to pulse through the curtains of his room. He rolled out of bed and began shuffling his clothes on and stuffing what else he had in his bag. Had he added a hen to his notebook? Surely, they were everywhere in his hometown of Blistle. His mind had turned back to home before this, but always in the overly broad sense. He thought of Nierlyben, the great peninsula of the southwest, the land of the clockmakers, a land of more than one kingdom. As an outsider, he embraced far more about his home than was actually true of him. The stereotype was that Niern were punctual and prudent, yet domineering. Gane was none of those things, and yet he would play up the expected features to appear familiar when it was required of him. In reality he came from a small town in the region. Blistle was a little hovel at the foot of a hillside. The hills weren’t holy lands that monks would travel to to meditate on. The river that ran by town wasn’t some roaring vein of an empire named for a great king. The town was named after blistle grass, a soft and minty smelling variety that is found all across the Southwest. There was almost nothing unique about it at all, but that didn’t make it any less pleasant of a place to live. 

Romping through the woods and having faux battles with sticks and toys, he had a worry free youth. Growing up an only child had forced him to find friends around town. Their group would meet every day after their chores were finished and have little adventures across the neighborhood. Gane pictured his childhood home, which was to say, his only home. He had lived there until setting off for this journey, it stopped being a childhood home when he stopped being a child. Gane pictured every room, the wooden stair railings, hand carved by the man who lived three houses over. He pictured the study, where Gane’s grandfather Rojon had taught him how to read. It was a pain at first, but he had turned into something of a bookworm afterwards. He was lucky, one of the only kids in town to learn to read. It gave him the feeling of uniqueness that he got from nothing else. That Notebook wasn’t the first that he’d had, but was the most meaningful by far. He had started it back home, spending days picking flowers and writing about them while the other kids played. It had been his legacy for the trip as well, he had hoped to bring it back after completing the Restoration as something of a town relic. Not to mention that it was something that Gane just loved to do, he would have made it regardless of being chosen for some great journey. Speaking of, he didn’t know how he was going to complete his mission at this point. He only remembered snippets of the instructions on page 138. Go to Sohouta… some sort of institute...beneath the floor. These disparate chunks of instruction struggled to make sense without the page’s guidance. Gane’s stomach demanded an end to his self pity session. It seemed breakfast was in order. 

Gane walked downstairs to the bar area, the Albatross had bounced back fast after the attack the previous night. It seemed almost busier in the wake of the Jaarekins. Gane sat down at an out-of-the-way table. The one beneath the bullmoose head. Oswain and Lycce were busy bussing tables and pouring drinks for the wealth of customers. Yhora was nowhere to be seen, it's not like her to sleep in. Oswain tapped on his shoulder. 

“Wadda ya want?” He asked. 

“Egg bowl and a grog water please, err, how much is that? I’m running low.” Gane pinched through his pocket feeling what remained of his money. 

“On the house. Ya really think I’m gunna charge you after last night. Wadda ya take me for? Not to mention I owe you for the week of work.” Owsain took down his order and went back into the kitchen. 

This was good news, money was going to become a limiting factor on how much further Gane could get with the mission. Gane fiddled with his pockets while he waited. The customers were a veritable circus of people, Roni traders with colorful ribbons and brass bells hanging from their antlers, Niern men who argued loudly while pointing at a map, a pair of shrimpy looking fellows with long red hats that dragged across the floor behind them. The fireplace was full of people conversing, probably about the fight last night by the sound of it. 

About thirty minutes later, Oswain returned with the meal. He apologised for the wait, Gane understood. They were swamped right now. He offered to help in the kitchen, but Oswain insisted that he should rest for the day. Gane was quietly relieved at this, he didn’t really want to spend the day in and out of the kitchen. Gane dug into his meal, a thick green mushroom turned on its head with scrambled egg and broth on the inside of its ridge. It was very tasty, and since the mushroom was the bowl, you got to eat it after finishing the first part of the meal. After finishing, Oswain came back to take the tankard and silverware, he told Gane to head outside, apparently there was a surprise for him.

 Gane compiled and left the building to find Yhora loading supplies into a large cart. Though, it really looked like two thinner longer carts that were joined in the middle by a latch. This was so it could weave through the thicker areas of trees without the need of roads. Instead of wheels it stood on several pairs of centipede-like legs. The front was hitched to one of the elk from last night. Gane marveled at this thing. He climbed inside and asked Yhora how it worked. 

“It’s a standard carriage out here in Kellylin, the real surprise is that Oswain and Lycce are letting us take one of the elk to pull it.” She responded with a bit of confusion as to why this had got him so excited. 

“But the legs! How do you pull such a thing?!” Gane wondered. 

“It’s powered by magic like anything else, it’s not some god-forged relic.” Yhora said dismissively. She heaved up a jar of magenta liquid, which she attached to a pump in the front of the carriage. 

Coming down from the high of discovering this thing, Gane began to wonder about their plan going forward. “But we lost our one lead on the mission. What use is this thing going to be to us now?” 

“Lycce and I asked around in the bar. Apparently there’s an oddball guy in the next town over that’s known for his wisdom on the subject of religion and myth. Seems worth a shot. And if he doesn’t have anything, we can just push on to Sohouta and see if we can pick up a new lead from there.”

Gane thought about it. “I suppose that’s all we can do at this point.” 

“Oh and also…” She rifled through some supplies in the cart. “You lost your spear last night. You should keep a weapon on you if we’re travelling through the woods.” She tossed a large walking stick into Gane’s hands. “It’s a bo staff. Inconspicuous and not too dangerous, but still useful to defend yourself.” 

Gane felt the large thing in his hands. This thing was pretty far out of his league as a weapon, but it would make a nice walking stick. He thanked Yhora for it.

She sat down next to him on the seat of the carriage. “It’s alright Gane. We got a little roughed up last night, but in the big picture we didn’t lose too much. We don’t need some set of directions to find this thing.”

She clearly didn’t understand what they’d really lost. Gane pretended to cheer up at her remark. Getting back on the road and having a change of setting would probably help.

“We should at least say goodbye to Oswain and Lycce before we head off.” Yhora said as she led him back inside the Albatross.

They made their way past the bustling hall of customers and into the privacy of the kitchen. Yhora hugged her aunt. “Goodbye auntie Lycce, I’ll send you and uncle Oswain a letter when we get to Sohouta.” 

Gane thanked Lycce for her Smoke Heart. She made him promise not to lose it, which he agreed to. Oswain pulled out a large wad of essers and handed it to Yhora. 

“This you two’s pay for the week. There’s quite a bit more than I had promised ya before. But seeing as how you’re off to complete some kinda magic ritual, I think I can spare it.” He hugged Yhora and led them out back to their carriage. “You two should use some of the money to hire mercenaries. There are tons of them out here, and you wouldn’t want to be caught without support. Especially with a Cu’maru out there lookin for ya.”

They thanked Owain for the advice and set off to leave. Gane hopped in the seat of the carriage and waved goodbye. Yhora sat up front and grabbed the reins. Their elk set off and the jug of magic bubbled as the legs of the carriage lurched forward and crawled into the woods and away from the Wreck of the Albatross. Oswain finished waving back and headed inside to help his wife with the customers.

The trip went on with little excitement. Yhora was content to drive the carriage and listen to sounds of the woods as she navigated them over dead trunks and around massive brickwoods. Gane sat in the far carriage and laid on his back staring up at the canopy. The treetops were starting to look full again. He liked that Yhora was happy to let them sit in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t often that you could sit in total silence and still be very comfortable to enjoy the passing sights. Though Gane was still tormented in the back of his mind by his absent notebook. He’d see a beautiful flower or vine and think to write it down, before remembering that he couldn’t. He could remember most of the things he’d seen from the trip so far, but what was the point. Having something in ink made it real, having it packed up in some old attic of your mind wasn’t worth anything. 

They traveled on in their carriage for around half a day before reaching the Aggano River. It was a relatively large river that traveled from the mountainous border regions of Nierlyben through the Kellylin valley and eventually pouring out into Lake Sey’Chey. They would travel by its side to reach the small village Yhora had heard about earlier. This village was on the way to Sohouta, and so wouldn’t be much of a detour. By now they had passed from the border regions where Nierlyben and Kellylin mixed, from here on out they would be delving into the heart of Kellylin. 

The surrounding foliage began to thin as they neared the shore of the Aggano River. It had slowed from its whitewater form to a deep and mellow pool. The rough terrain of untouched woods leveled out into land that looked to have been tapped by the hand of civilization. Yhora drove their carriage further down until catching the telltale signs of a nearby settlement. Sounds of voices and smells of the fires used to heat huts. She directed her elk towards these signs with the reins. They rounded the last tuft of trees, and she spotted the small town that she had been told of. This was Req’su, it was a relatively smaller farming settlement. Built just off the path of the river, the city center rippled out from a large Sapphire Tree in the middle. A wall grown from tree trunks surrounded the inner part of the town, separating it from the outskirts. The arms of farm houses stuck out in all directions from the wall. These farmhouses each stuck claim to vast fields of decomposing tree trunks and other such compost. Their bounty was thousands of cool colored mushrooms that sprouted from the fields. This was a fairly standard looking Roni settlement. The most unique sight to be found was what looked like the tops of tents from her vantage point. Perhaps a faire was in town. As they neared closer to the town’s main gate, Yhora looked up at the banner that hung from it. It flapped in a confident red and bronze. This town belonged to the Ealmeni Clan, not to worry, they were friends of the Nohanja. 

Yhora drove their carriage up to a hitch on the side of the town street. She took ropes from behind her seat and began tying up the carriage and elk’s saddle up to the hitch. Gane awoke from his nap in the back carriage and poked his head over the side of the wooden railing. 

“Well this place seems quaint. Are all Roni towns so well decorated?” He inquired aloud. After such a relaxing ride through the woods, Gane was beginning to feel his enthusiasm for exploring the vast corners of the world again. Ribbons hung from the roofs of buildings in town. The outsides of structures resembled bark, and were held together by solid white fungus. Shops lacked signs and windows, rather they were kiosks built into the sides of walls or other large buildings. The buildings were just the slightest bit taller in almost every way from the buildings in Nierlyben. Gane hopped over the side of the carriage and sunk several inches into the mud street. 

“I’m afraid you might be disappointed. This place is no Tiralgo, when it comes to cities, Kellylin probably can’t stack up to what you’ve seen.” Yhora replied as she finished hitching up the elk’s harness. 

Tiralgo was the largest city in Nierlyben, and known throughout the world as a place of sophistication and high culture. Gane had never been there before, it was on the opposite side of Nierlyben. 

“I’ve never been, I’ve only met one person from Tiralgo, and he was a stuck up jerk. He was a royal bureaucrat who had to stay over in our town for a little while. He could only understand Upper Niern and had to communicate through a translator in his entourage. We held a local feast when he arrived to welcome him, and he laughed at our offering. I would much prefer to explore a friendly little town like this.”

Yhora felt a strange little bit of pride hearing that. “Well then let’s ask around a bit for this religious master. I’m sure we’ll get to experience a bit of local color.”

“Where are we going for that?” Gane asked as he pulled one foot out from the deep mud.

“I suppose the temple is the obvious choice.” Yhora suggested.

Gane grabbed his backpack and Yhora attached her tsuk to her belt. They made their way down the mud ridden road. Passing down the main street of the lightly populated town, they received some looks from the town’s people. Gane in particular, small farming towns in Kellylin saw very few outsiders. Yhora received some as well, many people assumed she was a ranger by the bombs and bandolier. Rangers were always an exciting spectacle for the bland and peaceful town. They were an overall strange pair in a town that was not accustomed to strangeness. 

They arrived at the temple, which was grown into the side of the massive sapphire tree in the center of town. Surrounding the main tree were nine barkwood towers. From these towers hung banners that were woven with a symbol of a sleeping lady’s face. From her inferred head came waves of flowing hair that swept to the side. They approached a massive brass door. It was the only metal structure that either of them had seen since they’d entered town. On the door were carved images of leaves and floral patterns with imagery of elk and humming hawks mixed in. Gane held his hand out to knock on the door. But Yhora quickly blocked his hand from doing so. 

“This is an Asdacist temple. You are not supposed to touch the door. Thresholds are very important in our religion.” Yhora told him. “They’ll let us in.”

Gane was startled by the sound of metallic scraping as the metal beneath the door leaned forward at an angle. Tilted slightly towards them, the doors began to creak open through sheer force of gravity. A Ronic acolyte donned in a white robe ushered them in as they stepped past the door. As they stepped past, the bronze door frame tilted back and the doors slowly slid closed.

 The inside was vast and hollow. Despite said hollowness going almost all the way up the tree trunk’s insides, the tree itself seemed to still be alive. Nine Cobalt blue lanterns hung on chains that stretched up as far as the eye could see to reach the top of the hollowed portion of the tree. They were brought through the main foyer to a raised platform with nine stairs leading up to it. Nine was an important number in Asdacism and Roni culture in general. It was an uneven body of uneven bodies, and thus represented the perfect chaos that life was believed to be. If you commited a crime, you would be put before nine different judges from three different clans. Thus there could be no deadlock on any level. Atop the platform was a Roni priestess draped in a seafoam green robe. She looked to be middle aged and had long flowing hair coming down from her head. After stopping in front of her. The acolyte broke off and walked back towards the door. Yhora looked at the priestess and spun clockwise in place before standing still again. All attention in the room turned to Gane. He stood dumbfounded for a second before nervously spinning the same way Yhora had. The priestess raised an eyebrow and Yhora slightly snickered at him. The priestess spoke out in Ronic with a soft and soothing voice. Yhora understood her but Gane struggled to interpret.

“You are newcomers. Foreigners and Nohanjas. Have you come to seek the wisdom of the Beyaliss?” She inquired.

Yhora responded in Ronic. “We already glimpse at the Root Mother. We have come to seek knowledge on an ancient religious practice.”

“What practice do you seek?”

“We seek knowledge of the Restoration.”

The priestess considered this for a second.“Your request is not a usual one. I must admit I barely know the ritual. It is not of Asda origin, moreso it is a general myth, told in some form by every faith.”

Yhora tried to move things along. “So you don’t have any information on it.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Do you know of anyone in town who does?”

“No I do not.”

“Then we will respectfully depart. Thank you for your time. Vul’asda hpon yi.”

“Vul’asda hpon yi.” She responded.

Vul’asda hpon yi is the traditional asdacist farewell. It means “good dreams be upon you” in Ronic. 

Two more acolytes moved in from their flanks and ushered them back out the way they came. Back through the magnificent trunk and through the strange tipping bronze door. After going through it two times, Gane was already convinced that it was a hassle. How could a tradition that inconvenient stay in use for hundreds of years?

After they were out of the temple Yhora apologized.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to cause any tension in there, I told her that we both followed Asdacism. I assume you don’t, but I don’t mean to make such assumptions.” She admitted.

“It’s no worry, I understand.” He had only heard of Asdacism a few times before, he knew it as the religion of the Roni. Come to think of it, he didn’t even really know what faith he belonged to. He was born and initiated into the Orderbound faith at birth, but it wasn’t something he thought of often. “So what else happened in there?” He asked.

“Well for one thing you turn-in-respected clockwise.” She smiled tauntingly as she recited it. 

“That’s what you did. I don’t know what manners I’m supposed to use here.” Gane fretted.

“Men are supposed to turn-in-respect counterclockwise. It’s a harmless mistake.” She chuckled.

“Well what did you actually find out?” Gane asked, changing the subject from his ignorance.

“Sorry about that. I should have told you that Ronic is the only language permitted to be spoken in an asdacist temple.” Yhora stated. “She didn’t have anything on the Restoration. We might have gotten a bad tip.”

“Come to think of it…” Gane questioned. “Why is this the first time I’ve hit the language barrier out here?”

“You didn’t know? Niern is widely spoken across the world. It's the language of trade and high literature. Most people in Kellylin speak it.” She assured. 

This was surreal to hear. Gane knew that his people were very successful, especially in the past few hundred years. He felt almost bad for being preceded by his language. Blistle was closer to Kellylin than the great capitals of Nierlyben, but he had never learned to speak very much Ronic. They walked in silence for a few moments while Gane contemplated this.

“Why don’t we take a break from our search.? We could take a look at this carnival that’s come to town.”Gane suggested. He has spotted the telltale tents and smells of pastries. 

Yhora concurred. “I suppose a little reprieve could help us in our search. Why don’t you take in the local flavor and I’ll ask around about our guy?” 

“Oh come on. We can take a little time to have fun. The Restoration can wait an afternoon.” Gane said as he pulled her along towards the carnival. 

Orange and blue carnival tents were set up all throughout a small park that sat near the center of town. It seemed like most of town had come out to participate. Children carried roast beatle kebabs, and adults drank fine ale. Small crowds gathered around men dressed as jesters who performed traditional carnival tricks. Some swallowed swords, others swallowed axes or cannonballs. There were stands where old ladies would infuse your hair with shifting multi colored dyes. Giving your hair the look of oil in the sunlight. One shifty looking fellow held a crackling spark of rainbow lightning in a jar. It would snap and buzz inside and give the impression that it was about to explode. All the village people found these strange and exotic tricks enthralling. Gane was pulled into the excitement as well, and was all the more happy to see that this carnival didn’t have any animals forced to perform. Yhora was less compelled, all these astounding feats were pretty basic uses of magic, fun to look at but not all too engaging. She wasn’t going to spoil anyone’s fun though, and decided to sit down on a bench and have a drink while Gane had a look around. 

As she drank, she looked across the way to see a stall where several people were playing a dart throwing game. The sneaky looking carnival tender would hand three darts to an unsuspecting child in exchange for five esser. That price was a little excessive. Yhora watched as several kids paid up only to miss every shot. It was odd, these kids all seemed to be decently accurate, but not one earned a prize. Yhora felt bad for them but before she could think to do anything about it, she watched as two strange figures approached the stall. One was a tall Niern-looking man dressed in chainmail armor with a white and yellow robe draped around it. He had long black hair tied up neatly on his head and a sword sheathed on his side. Next to him was a figure wearing a long violet cloak and a hood that covered the back of his head, preventing her from seeing any distinguishing features. The black haired man offered to take a shot at the game and win a prize for the group of disappointed children. He paid and received three darts. The man wound up and carefully tossed the dart directly at the target. It landed just off center. The game tender chuckled a bit to himself. “Ooh ye just missed it.” The black haired man threw his second dart, again with perfect form only to barely miss again. He looked to the group of kids, whose excitement was turning to disappointment again. The man stepped back and then lunged forward, throwing the dart as hard as possible into the target. The sharp dart pierced so deep into the target that its colorful stripes began to flutter and twitch around. 

The black haired man thrust his finger toward the game tender in an accusatory manner. “You sir have been using a magic target! I demand you give back your ill gotten earnings to these innocent children!” he yelled. The children laughed and cheered when he spoke. This commotion drew a large crowd and many people in line for the game began to get rowdy. 

“Hey! What the hell do ye think yer doin’?! “If you don’t like the game, move along!” The tender yelled back as he slammed his hands on the stall table. 

“T’would be easy for you to undo your misdeed now. And if you leave your fraudulent ways behind, you could even be redeemed.” The black haired man retorted. The people in the crowd were still on his side. More still piled up to see this scandal.

“No refunds! Get the hell outta here!” The tender responded, scowling at the children to run off. His attitude caused the line for his game, and many of those around to disperse. 

The black haired man stared down the tender with disgust. Seeing the tensions rise, the hooded figure put his hand on the black haired man’s shoulder and slowly pulled him away. The black haired man resolved to give each of the three kids who’d been scammed five essers out of his pocket. Many people from the crowd booed the tender and most of the group elected to leave the carnival outright after seeing this scam.

“I’m sorry children. I would have fought to get your money back but scum like him aren’t worth it. Worry not, justice will come and give him what he deserves eventually.” He consoled as he handed out the money. The kids thanked him and ran off. 

As this strange pair began to walk off, Yhora caught up with them and thanked them for helping out.

“I saw the way you helped those kids.That was very noble of you.” As she spoke, she tried to get a closer read on these two. The black haired man was well groomed. His armor and weapon were intricately crafted and appeared to carry some sort of holy symbology. She could still make out very little of the cloaked figure, only seeing the glint of his eyes staring at her from behind the hood’s shade.

“It was simply the virtuous thing to do. I am appalled by the way some of these people will exploit the young and innocent.” The man spoke with a hardy self confidence, every word was spoken from the chest and came out through his smile.

“I agree. Say… My name is Yhora Va’Nohanja, and I noticed that you wear the trappings of a holy knight. Do you happen to know of any local holy men around here?” She wanted to see his response, this man was so far the most likely suspect.

The man was taken aback by her question. He quickly glanced down at his armor and then back to her. “Well ma'am, my name is Kayseri Allaki, and my compatriot here is named Zoll.” He gestured to the hooded figure next to him, who stayed silent. “We’ve only been in town about a month now, searching for work, and I’m afraid I haven’t met any holy men around.”

Yhora noticed that they seemed to raise their awareness sharply after hearing her question. Zoll, the cloaked one, began walking at a slightly slower pace to fall slightly behind them. She snuck a glance at Kayseri’s hands, and was relieved to see that he wasn’t reaching for his sword yet. Yhora decided to push further. 

“You know, it’s strange… I haven’t been able to find any either. However, you seem to fit the description quite well. I was wondering if you knew anything about the Restur-” Kayseri stepped forward and planted himself in front of her, stopping Yhora in her tracks. 

“So you’ve come to finish the job have you!?” Kayseri bellowed. 

Yhora glanced to see that Zoll had positioned himself behind her. His arms were hidden beneath his cloak and she couldn’t tell if he held a weapon. She grabbed the handle of her tsuk, and after seeing this, Kayseri grabbed the hilt of his blade in turn. She desperately tried to reason with them before this got any worse. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’ve just come to ask about the Restura-”

“Typical of your master to send a crony to do his dirty work! And after hunting me for so long! You’d think he’d at least have the dignity to ambush me himself!” Kayseri still held the hilt of his blade in its sheath. Before he could fly into a dramatic monologue, Yhora tried again to reason with him. 

“You don’t understand! I have no idea who this nemesis of yours is. I was told that you were wise in the ways of religion. I only had a few questions about the ritual of Restoration.” Yhora slowly took her hands off her tsuk and let the tension drain away. Kayseri stood down as well and Zoll circled around to his side. 

“My apologies. We are accustomed to being hunted and attacked by suspicious strangers, not asked for trivia.” Kayseri assured. “I would be happy to answer any questions you have.”

“Thank you very much, but I’m traveling with a friend, and we should find him before we discuss this.” She suggested.

The sun was beginning to set, and many of the villagers were winding down and leaving for home. Yhora and her newfound oddballs found Gane enjoying a pastry roll by the water fountain. Around them the carnival workers were beginning to take down their tents and store their acts in preparation for moving on. Yhora introduced Gane to Kayseri and Zoll and the four got talking. 

“So we heard that you have much knowledge on the subject of religion, and we wanted to ask what you knew about the ritual of Restoration?” Yhora inquired.

“The Restoration… Yes I’ve heard of it. The monastery I grew up in had records of its beginning, as well as the details of the last two to complete it.” Kayseri answered.

“Would we be able to see these records? Is this monastery near here?” Chimed Gane.

“No, I'm afraid not. Even if it were near here… It wouldn’t be much help to you now…” Kayseri trailed off. “Why do you two inquire about this ritual?” He asked.

Gane flipped through his thoughts for an excuse. He had never been this obvious about his quest before, his search was interrupted with a pang of anxiety as Yhora answered. 

“We’re tasked with completing the ritual and we need to find the Gourd of Nestra.” She stated bluntly. 

Kayseri raised an eyebrow. “Truly? Then were you not given some instruction?”

“We were given instructions to go to Souhouta, to an institute in Souhouta. But we lost some of the finer details and aren’t sure how to go about it. Do you remember anything mentioning that city? Perhaps the Gourd of Nestra was stored there?”  Gane fumbled. He didn’t bother hiding detail, the bees were out of the hive now.

“No. An item as valuable as the Gourd of Nestra would not have been stored in a populated city like that. The final part of the ritual is to seal away the Gourd for the next thousand years. It is done with the utmost secrecy.” Returned Kayseri. “You mentioned that you had more details at one point. Did you ever have a map or description of where the Gourd is hidden?”

“No. Only a vague set of directions pointing me to Sohouta.” Gane assured.

“Wait a minute... An institute in Sohouta? There is an esteemed library in Sohouta, maybe they have the directions we need to find the Gourd?!” Yhora realized. She had lived in Sohouta during her training as a ranger but never visited said library before.

“I’d say that’s the best bet you’ve got.” Kayseri landed.

Satisfied with their deductive abilities, Gane finished the last bite of his pastry roll and prepared to stand up when he noticed Zoll shoot up quickly. Zoll stared at a group of eight or so carnival workers that were approaching them. Yhora recognized the one in front as the game tender from before. He held a metal pipe in his hands, the others were armed as well and seemed to be fanning out to surround them. Gane could clearly see that trouble was coming and feigned ignorance. 

“We’ll be out of your hair in a minute fellas, just finishing up our conversation.” He chirped. 

“None’a yew ain’t goin nowhere after the stunt he pulled.” The tender snarled as he pointed at Kayseri. “I’ve gotta profit to make and I won’t let you cut into it. 

Seeing the way things were progressing, Gane pulled his bo staff off his back, Yhora took out her tsuk, and kayseri put his hand on the hilt of his sword. 

Kayseri boomed over all their voices. “Now hold on one moment. Your quarrel is with me, not any of them. You and I can settle our differences one on one.”

“That’s too damn bad isn’t it?” The tender said as he charged towards Kayseri with his pipe in hand. Before he had cleared more than three steps forward Zoll stepped in front of the group and threw open his cloak. The hood came off from his head revealing a bald indigo colored head. He had no features on his face besides a pair of pupiless yellow eyes. The group of carnival workers gasped and growled as they witnessed his true form. Zoll caught the tender’s pipe in his hand and began struggling with him in an attempt to disarm the man. Several furious carnival workers descended on the rest of the group. A large man grabbed onto Gane’s bo staff and attempted to rip it from his hands. Gane held on tightly but his sweaty grip was beginning to give. One goon attempted to grab Yhora from behind, noticing this, she swung around and bashed him in his gnarled face with the blunt end of her tsuk. 

Gane and Yhora struggled against these ruffians, however Kayseri and Zoll fought with significantly more experience. Kayseri dualed two knife wielding men with his broadsword. Parrying their strikes with a military level of skill. Grabbing one assailant by the arm and swinging him over his head into the other. Kayseri did not stop talking either. 

“Haven’t you the slightest sense of honor!? Attacking an outnumbered party by surprise! You aren’t fit to rot on these very streets!” He bellowed as he crossed blades with multiple men. His ceaseless grandstanding enflared the temper of all the attackers. 

Gane’s balance was broken by a sweep to the legs from the larger man. Gane slipped and coated his back in mud from the street as the large man glared down at him, with Gane’s bo staff in hand. The man lifted the staff above his head and welled up to swing with all his might. His expression of giddy cruelty was shattered as he watched Zoll step into the fountain. Zoll sunk into the water until all that was left was a cloak gently floating. The waters of the fountain slowed and ceased flowing, turning a dark shade of indigo. From the fountain, the water took the shape of a massive torso with four arms and the head and eyes of Zoll. His arms extended out and lifted several of the men high into the air, including the man about to bludgeon Gane. The massive swirling giant squeezed the men in his hands. They dropped their weapons, and Gane grabbed his bo staff again. Zoll stared with an ominous grandeur into the hearts of all the remaining carnival goons. They looked up at him in utter terror before taking off in all different directions, disengaging from any fight they had hoped to win. Zoll hung his immense hands low and dropped the men he held into the mud. They too hastily picked themselves up and fled. Gane, Yhora, and Kayseri put away their weapons as the threat averted and turned to watch as Zoll bent over back into the fountain. The indigo color drained from the water until only enough remained to reshape into the normal sized form of Zoll. Who stepped out of the fountain and carefully wrung out his cloak. 

Kayseri gave him a mighty hug and shouted out. “Huzzah! You really showed them, my contorting companion!” 

Zoll turned to Gane and Yhora, speaking for the first time in front of them in a light yet raspy voice. “I’m sorry if I startled you, but they’d been staring us down for a while.” 

“It’s us who should be thanking you. You both fight exceptionally well.” Yhora admitted. She looked to Gane who nodded knowingly. “Would you be interested in working as mercenaries for us while we complete the ritual of Restoration?

Kayseri put his hand on his chin. “Well we’re not technically mercenaries per say…” When Zoll interrupted him. 

“Yes, we will.” He stated. 

Kayseri looked at him, then back and Yhora and Gane. “I suppose that means we will.”