Dark Sand (a work in progress)

Here in his small office in one of the UAG branches, he set out the final documentation on his desk. The task before him was nearing its end. He had spent the last four hours moving back and forth between his office and various other offices in the guild as he accepted, cataloged, and delivered the documents and payments needed to register a new adventuring guild. Normally, the process took a few minutes; however, the clients before him had insisted on two things: privacy and that everything, including full approval among all guild-related territories, be completed today. That final part could take weeks, if not months. However, since they were paying everything in coin instead of credit, including all fees to expedite the process, the UAG was happy to accommodate them.

The three people sitting before him were an odd collective, but that could be said for most people in the adventuring life. This group in particular was odd not just because of their adventuring lifestyle, but because of who they were.

The first was Sariel Vexwyn, an elf and a notoriously meticulous documancer. She was a known up-and-coming force in the halls of bureaucracy as well as the halls of knowledge. She wore wizard robes, but their cut and style made them look more like a gray business suit. She was the one leading this meeting even though she was the least intimidating of the three.

The second was Tyrana Dreamscale, a dragonborn Paladin of Idunn, the Goddess of Motherhood, Youth, and Vitality. She had been a captain in the royal military, a mercenary for hire after that, and a champion of her goddess since she was sixteen years old. The higher-ups were to be informed if she came within sight of a UAG branch. Today, she had come inside to register a new adventuring guild. If her history wasn’t intimidating enough, the fact that she was seven and a half feet of solid muscle was enough to put most people on the back foot.

The third was Artaius Blackstorm, a human Archmage of The Mages Guild and head of their Chrono Arcana Studies. The man was ancient for a human. No one knew his true age. It was common knowledge that he had been the leader of the Mages Guild more than once but was never unseated due to being bested in a duel or voted out. Each time he resigned was to take a sabbatical and to “let the next generation take the lead.” Even now, in his wheelchair, he gave off an aura of power that kept the clerk on his toes.

“The Archmage will be signing the documents himself, as he has for each document so far. He needs minimal assistance beyond someone to position the document, provide a quill and ink, and then to steady his elbow, all of which I will handle as his assistant. If this is all of the remaining documentation, then we will begin,” Sariel said.

“Sariel, please be nice. He is only trying to make sure that Artaius doesn’t feel overwhelmed. It’s a common misconception among our peers that he is not quite as spry as they are,” Tyrana said. Even seated, the red-scaled dragonborn towered above everyone in the room. She looked like a hulking brute, but she displayed gentleness and grace in the way she patted Artaius’s knee.

Artaius grunted in frustration. “Hurry it along. I have to take a shit and would prefer to do it in a toilet.”

The clerk blushed.

“Artaius!” Tyrana hissed.

“Archmage!” Sariel admonished.

“Quiet, the both of you!” Artaius barked. “Get my hand to the documents so we can go. I have to shit, and I don’t plan on holding it any longer than the next five minutes. Let’s begin, Miss Vexwyn. I know the clerk has been instructed to garner information, so let the young man ask his questions while I sign. Tyrana, answer whatever you wish. I’ve been patient enough. I will not wait around any longer. Let’s get this done and be on our way.”

Sariel did as requested and positioned the final paperwork sheet by sheet before the Archmage. She handed him the quill and steadied his elbow. As he signed, she periodically dipped the quill for him. There were more than three dozen documents that needed multiple signatures or initials.

“Go on, young man, ask your questions. You haven’t pissed or shit yourself yet, so you aren’t too intimidated,” Artaius wheezed. “How about I start you off: ‘Archmage, you’re such an accomplished individual and so advanced in years, why would a 127-year-old who could comfortably retire and live off the dividends of his lifetime of arcane research want to start and participate in an adventuring guild?’ Or a better question: ‘Have you shit your pants yet, Archmage?’ Which would you like me to answer?”

The young man paled behind his desk.

Tyrana growled, “Artaius, please, watch your language.”

“Oh, stop coddling him, Tyrana. He has tried to initiate a scrying spell six times since we arrived,” Artaius huffed.

Sariel narrowed her eyes at that. “Archmage, have you been countering his attempts this entire time?”

“Yes, it’s cute. I don’t believe he is a professional caster. He has a device of some sort,” Artaius laughed.

Tyrana turned her gaze to the young man behind the desk and narrowed her eyes. “I have not known the Archmage to be a liar nor a man that drops such information without wanting it addressed. So please enlighten me as to why you would be doing such a thing when he requested privacy.”

“My apologies, Captain Dreamscale. I was told that your request for privacy would be honored but that certain precautions had to be taken. That certain questions had to be answered if possible,” he said. The poor man was trying to hide behind his desk as much as possible.

“Questions such as what?” Tyrana asked.

“Such as the one I offered. Right?” Artaius sighed.

“Yes…just as the Archmage said,” the clerk agreed.

“I’m bored. And I really need to shit,” Artaius sighed. “More ink, please, Sariel.”

Sariel obliged while Tyrana, again, admonished Artaius.

“Artaius, perhaps your outbursts are due to overstimulation,” she growled.

“I just said I was bored, so obviously I am under stimulated,” he countered. “Anyway, to answer the question I presented on the young man’s behalf: my wife suggested I get out more. She doesn’t like that I just sit around my tower smoking and drinking my life away.”

The clerk looked puzzled. “I was not aware you were married, Archmage.”

Artaius smiled. “Most people aren’t. I’m somewhat of a recluse. I got married twenty years ago, and I liked it so much that I did it again. And then again two more times.”

“So you divorced and remarried, then divorced and remarried again quite a few times?” the clerk asked.

Now Artaius cackled. “Divorced? Who said anything about divorce?”

“And that is the final document,” Sariel exclaimed as she took the quill from Artaius. She set the quill down, capped the ink, and stacked every document before handing them to the clerk. “Now we will need all of our official documents, in triplicate as the Archmage requested, our upgraded adventuring and mercenary licenses, and the discount vouchers for the guild-approved vendors. Quickly, please—the Archmage would like to be on his way to the lavatory.”

The clerk quickly checked over the documents. Then he left the room and returned shortly with all of the items and documentation. Sariel checked over everything as Tyrana began checking Artaius’s wheelchair.

“Is that everything, Ms. Vexwyn?” Artaius asked.

“Yes, Archmage,” Sariel confirmed.

“Excellent. Before we go, young man, please show me your scrying device,” Artaius said.

“I beg your pardon, Archmage?” the clerk asked.

“You heard me. Hurry up,” Artaius grumbled as he waved to the young man to get on with it.

The clerk reached under his desk and produced a scrying crystal, setting it atop the table.

“Ah. Simplistic. Activate it,” Artaius commanded.

The clerk did so, and Artaius cackled. The withered Archmage lifted a finger and muttered under his breath. A thread of dull green lightning—thin as string—arced from his fingertip into the crystal.

“Archmage!” Sariel snapped.

“Bah! Just a bit of retribution. Nothing permanent, Ms. Vexwyn,” Artaius said, waving her concern away. “Let’s go before I shit my pants.”

Tyrana turned his wheelchair, and they left the stunned clerk to his thoughts. Outside the office, they hurried to the privy.

“Sariel, what did he do?” Tyrana asked.

“Let’s just say,” Sariel sighed, “whoever was on the other side of that scrying crystal likely just had the same problem the Archmage is so keen to avoid.”

“Yep, to adventure!” Kiya clarified as she too raised her tankard.

They both waited for the third member at their table to join in. Tressa Dakota, though physically the largest of the group in all aspects, seemed incredibly small as she sat quietly, holding her tankard on the table with both hands. She was fumbling with the hood of her cloak, trying to keep it atop her head as she looked around nervously at every patron and shadow in the bar.

“Dakota!” Kiya said.

Tressa looked to her human friend. Kiya was almost three feet shorter than her own eight and a half feet but was standing tall, holding her tankard up in the air. Her combination of dark skin and dark-blonde hair, along with her black and green leathers, seemed to blend in perfectly with the cold décor of the room around them. Then there was the dwarf Bellithandra Sparklefoot—though she was supposed to call her Bellie—who was even shorter than Kiya. Bellie was only four feet tall and standing on her seat to lift her tankard in toast. Her pink hair and pink glittery fingernails, along with her black-and-pink leather jacket, stood out in contrast to everything around her.

“Sorry, I got distracted. Are you sure it’s okay for me to be in here?” Tressa asked.

“Come on, Cowgirl, raise that mug! Stop acting like it’s your first time in a bar!” Bellie told her.

“Umm… it is my first time in a bar,” Tressa mumbled.

“What?!” Bellie asked.

“Trouble, shut up. Dakota, you’re fine—you’re with me. Now raise your mug to adventure!” Kiya said.

“Okay… umm… to adventure,” Tressa said as she lifted her tankard to clink against her friends’, and they all drank.

Of course, when the tankards clinked, some of their drink spilled out. Bellie looked at the white liquid that came from Tressa’s. She tapped her finger in the spillage and sucked on it.

“Milk? You got milk from the bar?”

Tressa looked at her drink, then back up at Bellie, who was still standing on her chair.

“You told me to get whatever I wanted. I’ll pay you back if it’s too much… umm… once I get some coin,” Tressa explained.

Both Bellie and Kiya began laughing. They sat down and tried to gather themselves.

“Dakota, it’s okay. Milk suits you. Trust me,” Kiya said.

“Yeah, you’ll fit right in with this group. If you’re drinking milk, it means more ale for me!” Bellie laughed.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Kiya looked over at the sound. Some mercs were throwing knives at a target—a simple gambling game. Normally, she would have joined in, but not today. She had told Bellie to stay off the stage, as the bard had brought her lute and done her makeup as if ready for a show. None of that. They were just in the bar, staying out of trouble. So far, so good.

The food they had ordered arrived—last night’s stew and yesterday’s bread. They dug in, and Tressa started to spit it out.

“No!” Kiya told her. “Don’t. Get used to this, Dakota. This is what a good meal tastes like after we get moving.”

“But… this tastes like hot poop,” Tressa complained as she pushed it away.

“You mean barely warm shit,” Bellie joked.

“Dakota, you are going to eat that whole bowl, and you are going to keep it down. You throw up, and you’ll be carrying Bellie’s gear for the next week.”

Bellie pushed the bowl back to her. “Down the hatch—big bites, and keep drinking. Maybe jump up and down a bit too.”

“Trouble, you are not helping,” Kiya said.

“Yes I am. I’m helping me! She chucks, and I don’t have to carry my gear for a week!”

“I only said that because you pack like you’re moving into a new house. Now hush it up! Dakota, eat,” Kiya barked.

Tressa reluctantly took another bite. She cringed but did not spit it out.

“Good girl. Eat up. Like I said, this is what a good meal is going to taste like,” Kiya said as she went back to her own meal.

“It’s making my milk taste sour,” Tressa complained.

Bellie pushed her own tankard toward her. “Then drink ale like a—”

“Trouble!” Kiya snapped. She took a deep breath and ran her hand down her face. “Listen, Tressa. You signed up to go out with us and fight monsters—that’s the simple part. But the life of a mercenary isn’t comfortable when on the road. We might sleep in an open field under the rain. We might sleep in a cave during a snowstorm or flood. We might not sleep at all. The point is, the beds won’t be soft, the food isn’t going to be good, and sooner or later you’re going to use your bare hand to wipe your ass. So when you get a chance to sleep with a pillow, do it. When you get a meal that’s cooked in a clean pot, eat it. And when you get the chance to clean your ass with a wet cloth—clean it.”

Tressa looked down at her bowl. She nodded and continued her meal without complaint.

“Making speeches? You’ve been around Tyrana too long,” Bellie said as she stood up and grabbed their tankards.

“Where are you going?” Kiya asked.

“Getting refills,” Bellie shrugged.

“We don’t need refills. As soon as Tyrana gets done, we’re hitting the road,” Kiya argued.

“Didn’t you just say something like, ‘when you get a chance to get a refill, drink it?’” Bellie said as she danced away.

Bellie hadn’t been gone a whole minute before someone sat down in her seat. Tressa was surprised, but Kiya had seen him coming. Her hands weren’t on her spoon and bowl but close—just in the right position to flip the table before going for her knives. But hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.

“Hey, big fella,” said the newcomer. Kiya could smell the liquor on his breath.

Tressa looked to Kiya and pointed to herself. When she nodded back, the novice mercenary looked to the newcomer.

“Oh, I ain’t a fella,” she said.

Kiya had to bite back a laugh.

“You looking to take over?” the newcomer asked. He had completely ignored Tressa’s statement and the sound of her voice.

“Oh no. Tyrana and Kiya are in charge. If you want something, you should ask them. They’re in charge,” Tressa explained.

Tressa didn’t understand bars—she had never been in one. But Kiya did, and she understood that the innocent answer had been the wrong one. She looked to the drunk and knew that he couldn’t be the problem—just the start of it. He looked across the room to a table filled with thugs and toughs. At the head of that table was a big man with a scowl aimed right at Tressa.

“Hey Rutt! He says he’s the boss!” the drunken newcomer yelled. He had completely misunderstood Tressa’s words and reported exactly what he—and every other drunk in the bar—had wanted to hear.

Kiya watched as Rutt stood up. He was big—well over six feet. He had muscle too, and bulk besides that. He was walking over, and a few of his gang were following. Then, of course, there were the others getting up to surround them.

Bars all had rules—some spoken, some unspoken. One such unspoken rule was that if a bar had a champion, they had to defend their title against any challenger. Another unspoken rule was that challengers did not have to be willing—just big enough to look threatening.

Rutt stepped up to their table with a few of his friends, who spread out, forming a ring with the other bar dwellers that wanted to see a fight.

“So you think you’re the boss here?” he asked.

Kiya stood up. “Listen, Rutt, there’s been a few misunderstandings. First, my friend’s a woman. The second is, she isn’t the boss.”

Rutt glared past Kiya to Tressa, who still had her hood up. The crowd started booing around them. Rutt smiled and said, “Man or girl don’t matter. A person that big comes in here, then they’re looking to challenge.”

Kiya was shaking her head. She had promised to keep their group out of trouble and intended to do so.

“No. We’re just leaving. Tressa, get up, we’re going,” Kiya said.

Rutt grinned. “You can leave when I throw you out!”

Tressa stood up. The crowd went silent when she rose to her full height of eight and a half feet.

Rutt, standing about two feet shorter than Tressa, suddenly seemed less enthusiastic about fighting. He looked around at his bar fellows. Some were slowly backing away, but the majority were still jeering him on. That brought his confidence back.

“Ain’t none that tall. Bet he’s standin’ on a chair,” said a man as he ran up and pulled Tressa’s cloak.

It didn’t exactly fall free of her body, but it did slip off her head as one side fell free while the other stuck fast.

The crowd all stepped back. Standing there was an eight-and-a-half-foot minotaur with red eyes, brown fur, and brown hair tied into a braid. She didn’t wear armor, but thick leather pelts for a shirt and skirt. It looked like every inch of her was solid muscle. A huge double-bladed axe rested easily on her back.

Rutt did not want to fight anymore—not against an actual monster. He also understood that Kiya just wanted to leave. So he had a way out. He tried to save face by saying, “I’ll let you leave, but you’ll buy me and my boys a pint for comin’ into my bar!”

Kiya knew the game. She held up her hands in defeat and acceptance of his terms.

That’s when Bellithandra walked up with three tankards of ale. She set them on the table and pushed one to Kiya, then one to Tressa.

“Bellie, what are you doing?” Kiya asked.

“Bellie, I don’t think I should be—” Tressa started.

“Ah! Don’t. You’re gonna want to drink that in one big gulp, Cowgirl,” Bellie explained. “Now drink it!”

Tressa had never heard Bellie sound so serious. She took up the ale and gulped it down in a single swallow. The minotaur made a face and began spitting on the floor. The crowd began to laugh.

Bellie looked to Kiya. “I heard everything. Drink your ale, and we can get moving.”

Kiya shrugged. She knew the game. She could pay for the drinks and leave. That was what any smart person would do.

“So this is what we’re doing,” she said, then she threw back her drink.

Then Bellie threw back hers.

Then Bellithandra Sparklefoot jumped up and smashed her tankard into Rutt’s face.

The big man stumbled and fell backward.

Bellie threw up both of her middle fingers, yelling, “BAR FIGHT, BITCHES!”

The room exploded into motion. Kiya backstepped, then kicked the thug behind her in his chin. She spun to throw her empty tankard into the face of another man. One of the bar thugs tried to grab her from behind, but she hammered her elbow into the space between his neck and collarbone, dropping him to the ground.

Bellie rolled over the table and dropped forward, clotheslining the drunk that was still in her seat. “Don’t ever park your ass in the headliner’s seat, ya bastard!” she yelled.

She didn’t stop there. The dwarf stomped on a man’s foot before punching him in the gut. Then she grabbed him by the back of his britches and his collar. Using him as a battering ram, she ran him headfirst into the balls of the next biggest thug in the brawl. When the big man slumped, he got a face full of Bellie’s forehead as she grabbed him by the ears and pulled him down into a headbutt.

Tressa closed her eyes, covered her mouth, and shuffled from foot to foot. “What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?” she panicked.

Rutt got back to his feet and surveyed the room. The dwarf that had sucker-punched him was fighting like a back-alley brawler. The human woman he had been negotiating with was dropping men with single strikes like a professional fighter. But the minotaur was acting like a coward. She hadn’t moved and looked like she might just bolt for the door. So Rutt grabbed the table and hefted it over his head.

“SHIT! TRESSA, MOVE!” Kiya screamed as she kneed a man in the side of his temple.

“COWGIRL, WATCH OUT!” Bellie yelled as she scrambled up after suplexing one of the thugs.

Tressa opened her eyes at her friends’ warnings and screamed when she saw the table in the air. Rutt brought the table down on her head. The big girl went down under the weight of the blow, and the table settled unbroken atop her.

The crowd cheered. Some began chanting, “Rutt! Rutt! Rutt! Rutt! Rutt!”

The bar champion raised his arms in the air and flexed his biceps. He began spinning a slow circle. He saw the dwarf looking stunned. He saw the human woman looking at him with wide eyes. Then he noticed that the cheering had stopped.

“You hit me with a table?” Tressa asked.

Rutt turned to see the minotaur standing up with the table held out in one hand. Then she swung it sideways, hitting him and sending him flying to slam into the wall. When he smacked off the stone, he landed on his feet, dazed and stumbling backward. Tressa, still holding the table in one hand, walked over to the bar champion and lifted him up. She set the table down and drove the man right through it and into the floor.

The room went silent.

Kiya took that moment to grab both Bellie and Tressa so she could pull them out of the bar. Once they were outside, the three started running down the street. When they were safely a few blocks away, they stopped and caught their breath.

“I’m sorry!” Tressa cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, but he hit me with a table!”

“Don’t apologize, girl! He was the one that picked a fight!” Kiya said.

“She can lift a bar table with one arm and cries when she beats down an asshole? Yeah, she’s gonna fit in just fine!” Bellie laughed.

“Come on. The others are probably done and waiting for us,” Kiya said as she patted Tressa on the shoulder.

“Do you think they’ll be mad that I got us in a fight?” Tressa asked.

“Nah,” Bellie said.

“Nope. Bellithandra started the fight—you just finished it. She’s the one they’ll be mad at,” Kiya said.

Bellie just laced her fingers under her chin, batted her eyes, and smiled. “Ain’t I a scamp!”

Kiya had barely removed her key from the door before Bellie kicked it in.

“Honey, I’m home!” she yelled as she pushed her way past Kiya to be the first one into the foyer of Blackstorm Tower.

Kiya and Tressa followed her inside. The foyer had no windows, so when Kiya closed the door, they were left in the dark—though only for an instant, as the sconces began to glow with magical light. Kiya and Bellie put their cloaks on familiar hooks, and Bellie even took off her boots. Tressa looked around in awe.

“Oh, that’s right, this is your first time visiting the Tower. Sorry, Cowgirl, I didn’t think about that. It’s a lot to take in. Every room has its own magical light. They turn on or off when you enter or leave. If you want them off while you are in the room, just say so. The Tower hears and will obey,” Kiya told her. “Put your cloak on a hook. It will be yours from here on out.”

Tressa removed her cloak and bent to set it on a hook. The hook moved up to meet her so that she did not have to bend. The minotaur stepped back, startled by the inanimate object moving on its own. Kiya patted her back to steady her, and she put her cloak on the hook.

“Will you two hurry up?” Bellie asked as she stood by one of the eleven corridors leading from the circular room.

“Bellie, hold your horses. It’s her first time in the Tower. Tress, leave your axe too. You are perfectly safe here, but if you feel you need it, just ask and the Tower will send it to you.”

Tressa shrugged but did as she was told, though she did hesitate the moment her hands left the shaft of the weapon. She reached for it, but Kiya took her hands.

“Just follow me and don’t touch anything.”

Kiya led them down one of the corridors to a door that was partially open, with light coming from within. She pushed it open to reveal a large sitting room. As with most rooms in the Tower, it was circular. Comfortable couches and chairs lined the walls, four coffee tables sat in the middle with loveseats spaced around them. Sariel and Tyrana were sitting across from each other at one of the coffee tables. Sariel was still in her robes, but Tyrana had removed her armor. She was dressed in a black tunic and brown trousers.

Sariel pulled out a pocket watch. “Fifteen minutes late. Better than I expected with Bellithandra in tow.”

Bellie had already collapsed into her own loveseat and was lighting a cigar. She took a healthy drag before blowing out smoke. “Ever heard of fashionably late? It’s expected from headliners, so get used to it, Princess.”

“Bellithandra, I have asked you to refrain from using that moniker,” Sariel lectured.

“And I’ve told you that I don’t know what that is,” Bellie said, then stuck her tongue out at the elf.

Before Sariel could muster a rebuttal, Kiya leaned over her chair and kissed her.

Sariel stiffened for a heartbeat, then melted into it, her hand briefly curling into Kiya’s sleeve. When Kiya pulled back, Sariel’s cheeks were faintly pink.

“Don’t get mad,” Kiya murmured. “The name suits you.”

“Still, Bellithandra should respect Sariel’s wishes and not call her by that name,” Tyrana said.

Bellie rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. I won’t call her Princess… for now. I reserve the right to call any of you by names that suit how you act.”

Kiya just shook her head. Then she stepped over to Tyrana and kissed her as well. The Dragonborn was sitting and still of height with the standing human woman.

“Welcome home, Kiya. Welcome home, Bellithandra,” Tyrana said.

Bellie blew her a kiss and then blew one to Sariel.

Tyrana looked over to see Tressa standing in the doorway with her hands folded in front of her. She stood and walked over to the girl. “Tressa, oh stars, this is your first time in the Tower, isn’t it? Come here, come here.”

Tressa was half a foot taller than Tyrana, so the paladin pulled the girl down when they hugged so that she could kiss the top of her head. She held the younger warrior at arm’s length and smiled at her. “Welcome to Blackstorm Tower, your new home whenever you want it to be. Right now, you are a guest and the Tower will respect you. Once Artaius gives you a token, this will be your home and the Tower will obey you in every way.”

“Oh, where is Arty?” Tressa asked.

“Artaius is napping, Tressa. The morning took a lot out of him. But do not call him Arty. Not on days like this,” Tyrana corrected her.

They went to sit with the others.

“Tea?” Sariel asked.

Tressa saw that both Sariel and Tyrana had a cup. Kiya had one as well, so she nodded. Sariel poured her a cup of tea, then added sugar cubes to it for her. Tressa picked up the cup and took a sip.

“Never had hot tea when I wasn’t sick,” Tressa shrugged.

“A lot of firsts for this girl. Where’d you find her? Some backwoods town in the sticks?” Bellie joked.

“Bellithandra!” Tyrana snapped.

Bellie’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Oh my gods, you did! You found her on one of those runs out in the sticks while I was on tour! You brought home a bumpkin!”

“Bellithandra,” Sariel admonished.

“Poor bumpkin has no idea what she has gotten into. Cowgirl, did you know what you were walking into, or did you follow them home like a little lost puppy?”

“Trouble!” Kiya snapped. “That’s enough. You don’t get to pick on Tressa because she is new. Let’s not forget that until she came along, you were the newest person to the group.”

“Yeah, but I have been here for three years. Plus, I’m not a hillbilly bumpkin,” Bellie laughed.

Kiya stood in a rush, but Tressa patted the air. “It’s okay, Miss Kiya. She’s right. I am a bit of a bumpkin. Never thought I was, but that’s ’cause I was around other bumpkins. I don’t know anything about the city or the kingdom other than what the farm and town guard taught me, and being here for these past few months showed me that was less than half a piss in a bucket.”

Tressa covered her mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cuss!”

Bellie burst into laughter while Tyrana hugged Tressa to comfort her.

“Cackling like a mad wizard. Music to my ears, Bellithandra,” came a voice from the doorway.

The group looked up to see Artaius rolling into the parlor in his wheelchair. Bellie jumped up from her loveseat to run over to hug and kiss him.

“Did you miss me, Baby Mage?” she asked.

“Yes, but don’t call me that!” he scoffed.

“Artaius, what are you doing out of bed? You are supposed to be napping,” Tyrana said as she rose and started over to him.

“Bah! I don’t need rest. I need a drink and a good cigar. Maybe a good fuck,” he said as he looked at Bellie. “Maybe then I might be tired. But not now!”

“Hi, Artaius,” said Tressa as she waved at the elderly man.

Artaius looked past Tyrana to the minotaur. He motioned for Tyrana to step aside. She did, which left him and Tressa with a clear view of each other.

Tressa smiled and said again, “Hi, Artaius!”

“I don’t know you,” spat Artaius.

Tressa froze.

“Why is she in my Tower?” Artaius demanded.

“I… I was… I came… with Kiya and Bellie,” Tressa sputtered.

“I don’t know her!” Artaius growled.

“But… you know me, Arty,” Tressa argued.

“What the fuck did she just call me?!” Artaius roared.

Tressa shrank back, biting her lip. She looked all around the room for help. Bellie, Kiya, and Sariel all looked pained, but no one said anything. Tyrana patted the air between her and Tressa, then she moved behind Artaius’ wheelchair.

“Okay, that’s enough. You are cranky and full of rude words, so you obviously need to finish your nap,” Tyrana scolded as she turned Artaius around and wheeled him from the room.

“I don’t need a damned nap! I am not a child! I am not a child!” Artaius argued.

Once he and Tyrana were gone, Bellie laid back down. Kiya pulled her hood back and rubbed her head. Sariel straightened her robes. Tressa just stared at the door.

“He doesn’t know me?” she repeated.

Sariel stood and rushed to her side. “He doesn’t REMEMBER you, Tressa. It’s part of his… condition. It’s why we are here. Remember that. We have all had this argument with him at some point. This was your first. It will not be your last.”

Bellie sat up and huffed out a cloud of smoke. “He cried the first time he didn’t remember me. We were… alone. I couldn’t help him. I had to get Tyrana. He remembered her.”

Kiya chuckled, “He always remembers the dragoness. But that’s a different edge to the blade. He hates her half of the time. Same with me, but not as much. Sariel is the only one he remembers and doesn’t hate.”

“So how do I get him to remember me?” Tressa asked.

“You build memories. Big ones! Small ones too. But it’s the ones that matter to him that will determine if he remembers you or not,” Bellie said.

Tressa reached for her axe—her entire posture shifting into something heavy, grounded, ready.

Tyrana collected her sword and shield. She buckled the sword to her left forearm and slipped the sheathed sword into the scabbard brace on the interior of the shield.

Sariel paused only long enough to snatch the pair of white spell-gloves from her bunk. Then she strode into the cargo bay with the clipped precision of a woman who wrote essays on efficiency. She placed a hand on each arcane carrying case. Each flashed a warning green but remained firmly locked.

“Alright, Artaius… let’s see whether you did your homework,” she murmured.

She slipped on the gloves—white leather, black stitching, immaculate—and stepped back.

“Case S1, Belt One: loose.”

A sharp click! One of the cases sprang open, and a belt satchel shot outward into her waiting palm. She buckled it around her waist, checked the spellbook inside with a small approving hum, then raised her right hand again.

“Case S1, Staff: loose.”

The staff launched into the air, spinning once before settling neatly into her grasp. The case sealed itself behind it.

Sariel turned—composed, armed, and already shifting into tactical mode.

“I wanna come!” Bellie insisted, bouncing at Tyrana’s elbow.

“No,” Tyrana said gently but firmly. “You watch the baby and Nyx. You’re my big girl today, right?”

Bellie puffed up with pride. “Yeah. Arty’s just a baby.”

Before Arty could object, Tyrana popped a pacifier between his lips with the precision of a seasoned mother. She kissed Bellie’s forehead, then tapped Arty’s.

“Keep the baby and the puppy quiet.”

The two were ushered into a lower bunk, and the privacy curtain pulled.

She petted Nyx. “Guard.”

The direwolf sat instantly, frozen like carved stone. His red eyes lit with an eerie glow.

Whomp. Whomp. Whomp. Something heavy pounded on the wagon door.

Tyrana rolled her shoulders and started toward the common room. Sariel was on her heels. “Sariel, when we get this thing outfitted, I want that last bunk area gutted. I want a safe room there.”

Sariel pulled a pad and pencil from a pouch on her belt to write the order down. “Noted.”

“Everyone behind me. Kiya—neutralize any hostiles fast. Tressa, if I charge, you charge. Sariel, support from the back,” Tyrana ordered.

“On it, Scales,” Kiya said, already grinning.

“I can do that!” Tressa said, tightening her grip on her axe.

“Understood, Captain,” Sariel added.

The battle-wagon door hissed open, the metal ramp ejecting with force. Dust swirled. The gathered townsfolk stumbled backward but did not flee. Once the air cleared, they regrouped at the base of the ramp.

Tyrana stepped forward, shield low, sword resting casually across her shoulder—relaxed, but absolutely ready.
Sariel stood just inside the doorway to the right, back against the wall, staff brimming with held spellfire.
Tressa crouched a few feet behind Tyrana, her body coiled, waiting for the word.

“Greetings! Name’s Charles!” called a man at the front. Gray at the temples, maybe fifty, dressed plainly and unarmed. The kind of harmless an amateur might trust. But Tyrana had been adventuring since she was fourteen; she’d learned long ago that “unarmed old man” often meant “dangerous.”

“Morning, Charles,” Tyrana said evenly. “Why are you pounding on my door at sunrise?”

“We saw your wagon parked here overnight,” he said.

“The road’s free. We didn’t break any laws,” Tyrana replied, knowing full well Sariel had checked the moment they’d crossed the border.

“No, ma’am. We’re just glad you arrived so quickly after the last group vanished.”

Tyrana’s brow flicked. “The last group?”

“Mercenaries. Came through a week back. Went out to help us. Never returned. So I sent a request to the Adventurers Guild three days ago. Didn’t expect anyone for weeks.”

Sariel whispered from behind Tyrana, holding a glowing scrying stone, “The UAG did log a request here. High risk, low reward. Bugbears raiding farms.”

Charles cleared his throat. “So… where’s your leader?”

“My leader?” Tyrana echoed.

“Yes. Your boss.”

“Sorry,” she said, smiling with her teeth. “I don’t have a boss. It’s me and my family.”

“Fine—your husband, then,” Charles groaned.

Kiya appeared at his shoulder like a shadow peeled off the ramp. She draped an arm over him, resting a blade lightly against his throat.

“Hi,” she purred. “I’m her husband. Right, dear?”

Tyrana blew her a kiss. “Hey, love. He wants to speak to you.”

“See, Charles, you made two mistakes,” Kiya said cheerfully. “First, assuming her husband was a man. Second, assuming the eight-foot dragoness with a sword, shield, and bunny slippers wasn’t the boss. That’s what we call poor observation.”

“Kiya,” Tyrana sighed, “sweetheart, he requested Guild help. We are not killing anyone today—not yet. Please ask where we can meet him in an hour—after I take off this face mask.”

Kiya grinned wider. “See? She calls the shots and looks good doing it. Now—where do we meet?”

Charles gulped out the answer.

Kiya held onto Charles until everyone else left. Then she let him leave and returned to the battle-wagon. Once the ramp sealed behind them, Tyrana sprinted for the bunks to check the young’uns.

Sariel, meanwhile, stormed her desk, already tearing through crates of books and files.

Tressa practically bounced on her hooves as she caught up to Kiya.

“How did you do that?! You were right next to him—nobody even noticed! I didn’t even see you leave the ramp!”

Kiya patted her shoulder. “Easy, Cowgirl. Trade secret. You’ll have your own tricks soon enough.”

Tressa settled… mostly. Her lips puffed for a heartbeat, like a child caught between admiration and frustration.

Kiya clocked it with one raised brow before Tressa turned toward Sariel.

Tressa approached the elf—who was elbow-deep in a stack of scrolls.

“Ms. Sariel? Can I ask something?”

“You may,” Sariel answered without looking up.

“What were you gonna do with that yardstick?”

Sariel froze, then slowly lifted her gaze. “…Yardstick?”

Tressa pointed at the staff leaning against the wall. “That. Schoolteacher back home had one. Popped kids with it.”

“Well, that’s barbaric,” Sariel said primly, retrieving her staff. “This is not a yardstick. It’s a staff. See the arcane inscriptions?”

Tressa squinted. “Looks like scribbles. Baby scribbles.”

Sariel inhaled sharply. “I inscribed these runes myself, and I am, for the record, not a baby.”

Tressa blushed. “Sorry, Ms. Sariel.”

Tyrana returned with Arty on her hip and Bellie by the hand, Nyx trotting behind.

“Sariel. Report. Bellie, sit here, Little Star.”

Bellie plopped onto the couch proudly. Arty giggled—still sticky with breakfast.

Sariel straightened.

“I haven’t reached the UAG yet, but the scrying confirms the locals’ report: bugbears have been raiding for months. They’ve seen up to four at once, though their true numbers could be higher. Their pooled reward comes to… two gold.”

“Two gold? That’s a fortune!” Tressa gasped.

“Not really, Cowgirl,” Kiya said, motioning for her to sit. “Come—time to shatter your worldview.”

Tressa obeyed and sat at the table.

Kiya explained gently but bluntly: “Two gold could keep your family comfortable in Mesa for years. But for mercenaries? Supplies, travel, armor repairs—two gold won’t touch it. That’s why no one else came.”

Tyrana nodded. “But we’re a new guild. This builds reputation. We help them, and it helps us.”

“So we accept the danger for social capital,” Sariel summarized.

“Exactly. Kiya, Sariel—ready in an hour. We’ll meet Charles, gather intel, and formally accept the quest.” Tyrana handed Arty to Tressa. “Tressa, you stay with the babies.”

“I ain’t comin’?” Tressa wilted.

“Not for the parley,” Tyrana reassured. “If Bellie and Arty could stay alone, I’d bring you. They need you more.”

Sariel added, “You will need the practice.”

Kiya groaned. “Leave a little mystery, Nerd.”

“What’s a parley?” Tressa asked.

“A negotiation,” Sariel began. “Exchange of information, assessment of risk—ah! Found it.” She snatched a book free and marched off to prepare.

Kiya stood. “Don’t worry—we’re not leaving you out of the fight. We’ll tell you everything when we get back.”

Tyrana cupped Tressa’s cheek. “You’re not being held back. You’re being relied on.” She kissed her warmly. “Give them a bath—Bellie smells like a tavern, and Arty… most of his breakfast is in his hair.”

“Well, it’s a… what did you call it?” Tyrana asked, squinting at the building.

“An agrarian community,” Sariel replied stiffly.

“Yeah,” Kiya said, placing both hands on Sariel’s back and giving her a shove. “Farm folk.”

Sariel stumbled forward, caught herself, then immediately tried to sidestep back past Kiya. Kiya pivoted and pushed her right back where she’d been.

“Kiya, stop! I am not going inside a barn,” Sariel snapped. “That is no place to conduct business!”

She made a break for it.

Kiya caught her around the waist and hauled her to a stop. “Well, lucky for you, we aren’t conducting our business in the barn.”

Sariel froze. She exhaled sharply, shoulders sagging with relief.

“Thank Dewey,” she muttered. “I cannot imagine trying to conduct a parley in such a filthy environment.”

Kiya’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, it’s worse. Our actual destination is the hog pen behind it.”

Sariel yelped and lunged again, but Kiya caught her by the belt and held her at arm’s length.

“Boss!” Kiya called. “We’ve got a runner!”

Tyrana walked back up the slope, took hold of Sariel’s belt, and lifted her as easily as a satchel. Then she turned and marched downhill toward the barn.

“This is highly undignified and deeply unprofessional!” Sariel shrieked.

“I can carry you on my hip,” Tyrana said mildly, “or you may walk. Those are your options.”

Sariel’s face flushed the same shade as Tyrana’s scales.

“I will walk,” she whimpered. “I will. I will not try to run.”

Tyrana set her back on her feet.

“Good girl,” she said, patting Sariel’s back.

They continued toward the pig pen: Tyrana in the lead, Sariel trailing stiffly behind her, with Kiya and Nyx bringing up the rear. At the fence, Tyrana wiped down the top rail with her sleeve and draped her cloak over it before lifting Sariel up and setting her atop the fence. It kept the elf safely above the muck that Tyrana and Kiya waded into without hesitation.

Nyx remained outside the pen, eyes fixed on the pigs with open calculation.

“Do not attempt to eat the client’s livestock, beast,” Sariel warned him.

Nyx’s ears flicked, but he did not look away.

Charles was still slopping the pigs. Slowly. Deliberately. He lingered over a task that should have been finished minutes ago.

It was a power play—one Kiya and Tyrana recognized instantly from years of military service and mercenary work.

“Should we announce ourselves?” Sariel asked quietly.

“He knows we’re here,” Tyrana said. “He’s trying to establish dominance. Kiya bruised his pride earlier, and the fact that we’re all women is not helping. Let the baby have his bottle. In the end, we hold every card, and he knows it. If we walk away, the raids continue until someone takes pity on them—or desperation forces their hand.”

So they waited.

Nearly ten minutes passed before Charles finally stowed his bucket and slogged through the mud toward them, wiping his hands on his trousers.

“Good morning again,” he said. “Well met. I’m sorry—I never did get your names.” He did not offer his hand.

“Because you surrounded my battle-wagon and disrespected my people,” Tyrana replied coolly. “I am Captain Tyrana Dreamscale. This is my second-in-command, Lieutenant Kiya Darkwalker, and her direwolf, Nyx. The elf on the fence is my third, Sariel Vexwyn. She will conduct the negotiations—if we decide to help you.”

Charles went pale. “What do you mean if? The United Adventurers Guild sent you.”

“They posted your request on the general quest board,” Kiya said. “That’s a help-wanted sign, not a guarantee. Most folks see two gold and keep walking. Truth is, that won’t buy you much more than disappointment.”

“So you’re just going to leave us to the bugbears?” Charles demanded, his bravado cracking.

“No,” Tyrana said. “First, you tell us everything you know. Then we decide whether helping you is worth the risk.”

“Every detail,” Kiya added. “Doesn’t matter how small you think it is. Start with how long it’s been happening.”

Charles sighed, shoulders slumping. “About two months. Before that, it was just the occasional bugbear—sheep, maybe a goat. Then one night four of them came. Took three cows. After that, they got bold. Cows, chickens, sheep… once even barrels of corn whisky.”

They listened as he recounted each raid, pressing him to repeat details, probing for anything overlooked.

“Did any show magical aptitude?” Sariel asked.

“If you mean magic,” Charles said, nodding grimly. “Twice I saw them throw spell-fire when we tried to run them off.”

“When was the last raid?” Kiya asked.

“Two nights ago. Took nearly half a dozen sheep.”

“From where?”

“Gilly’s farm. Two miles that way. Big blue barn.”

“We in, Boss?” Kiya asked.

“Go,” Tyrana said. “We’ll meet you there in two hours. If you finish early, wait.”

Kiya stepped out of the pen. “Nyx.”

She took off at a run, the direwolf instantly at her heels.

“She’ll pick up the trail,” Tyrana told Charles. “We’ll deal with the bugbears—assuming you meet our price.”

“Our price?” Charles scoffed. “Two gold isn’t enough?”

“No,” Sariel said calmly. “The standard bounty for a bugbear is three gold. Five if one proves to be a mage. Two gold is insufficient.”

“Then what do you want?”

“First, the two gold. Second, full rights to any stolen goods or livestock we recover. We will barter them back if you wish. Third, two casks of your corn whisky.” She pointed. “And finally, two of your hogs. Those two. Butchered for market.”

“My hogs?” Charles sputtered.

“Yes. Those hogs.”

“So you take everything and then some?” he snapped. “You’re no better than the bugbears!”

“No,” Sariel replied evenly. “We are offering you survival. Accept our terms—or endure the raids.”

Charles ground his teeth, then nodded sharply. “Guess I don’t have much choice.”

Before Sariel could respond, Tyrana stepped forward and extended her hand.

“Then we have a deal, Charles.”

He stared at her hand for a long moment before reluctantly clasping it. They shook.

“I’M NOT A BABY!” Bellie yelled.

“YOU BABY!” Arty yelled back.

“NU UH!” Bellie countered.

“YEH HU!” Arty shot back.

They kept arguing even when Tyrana walked over and asked, “What is going on?”

Tressa looked up at her and told her about the last hour.

“Well you told me to give them a bath so I did. Well, I had to find a place to put Arty while I bathed Bellie. I found a basket and set him right outside the tub. Then after Bellie was clean I toweled her off and took them to the kitchen. I gave Bellie some juice while I bathed Arty in the sink.”

“You bathed the Archmage in the sink? Where we clean and prepare our food?” Sariel asked.

“Well yeah. When I was stayin at Tyrana’s cabin I always gave him a bath in the sink. Where else do you wash a baby?”

“A bathtub!” Sariel said.

“Sariel, let her finish,” Tyrana ordered. “Continue, Tressa.”

“Well I got him clean then went to get them dressed. Before I gave Bellie a bath I found out she was wearing a diaper. I ain’t never seen a grown woman wear one so when I got her dressed I asked why she had one. She said she always wore one. I didn’t argue. I got one from the box we keep for Artaius and got her dressed. Then I got Arty dressed. Then I brought them in here to play and they started arguing but I don’t know why. They just keep calling each other a baby,” Tressa explained.

Tyrana pinched the bridge of her snout as Sariel sighed.

“It’s because Arty sees you treating Bellie like you treat him. He thinks that means Bellie is a baby like he is. But Bellie isn’t a ‘little baby’, she is definitely a big girl,” Tyrana said.

“RIGHT!” Bellie yelled.

She stood up and pointed down at little Arty. “I’m not a little baby like him! I can read, and count and sing and I can drive the wagon and everything and he can’t!”

Arty stood up and pointed at himself, “I big! Arty big boy!”

Then he promptly fell onto his bottom then tipped over onto his side.

“Yeah Arty you’re a big boy,” Tressa giggled.

“No no no, Tressa. Do not encourage him when he is trying to say he is big like Bellie. Arty, Little Storm, you are a big boy but you are not big like Bellie and you need to understand and respect that,” Tyrana said.

“Okay I know Bellie is really an adult but so is Arty, right?” Tressa asked.

“No. Arty is just a baby. Blue flow day. No adult thoughts in his head. Bellie is different. Right now she is emotionally a child. But she understands the adult world around her. He does not,” Sariel explained.

“I’m sorry but I don’t get it,” Tressa shrugged.

Tyrana sat on the couch next to Tressa, resting a hand on her hip to steady her attention. “Okay. Think of it like this. There are… different kinds of regression.”

Tressa frowned. “You mean more than just these two?”

Sariel nodded. “Yes. Emotional, physical, and mental. Each can be caused by personal choice, magic, outside stimulus, or trauma.”

Bellie jabbed a finger toward Artaius. “He thinks I’m like him.”

Artaius sniffled, sat back up, and pointed at Bellie again. “Baby.”

Sariel continued, unflappable. “Artaius is a baby. His body and mind are both regressed.”

Tyrana added, “Bellie is a Little. Her body still that of an adult, but right now her emotions and her mental state are regressed but she still has more agency than he does.”

Tressa blinked. “Agency?”

Bellie puffed up. “I have opinions.”

“You scream about glitter theft and cry because you aren’t allowed to wear makeup,” Tyrana said gently.

“IMPORTANT opinions.”

Tressa thought it all over for a moment, “So Bellie is regressed because she is small on the inside, and Artaius is regressed because he is small on the inside and outside?”

Sariel smiled. “Exactly.”

Tressa nodded, satisfied. Then she looked down at Bellie. “So why does she wear diapers?”

Tyrana looked at Bellie as well. The little bard nodded. Smiling at the girl, Tyrana lifted Bellie onto her lap. She held the woman tightly but let her keep arguing with Arty.

“Bellie wears them because she prefers them,” Tyrana said.

“Bellithandra is always moving, dancing, singing, entertaining, and she never wants to stop even to use the bathroom. Which is why I have her on a potty schedule. I have a chart for her and stickers for her accomplishments,” Sariel explained.

Tressa smiled at the dwarf, “So… you’re not a baby like Arty but it sounds like, in your own way, you’re still a baby.”

Bellie’s mouth opened. Closed. Then she said, “I’m going to steal your axe.”

Tressa laughed, loud and delighted, while Tyrana hid a smile and Sariel quietly noted, once again, that explaining regression was easier on paper than in practice.

Tyrana set Bellie on the couch then stood and took off her cloak, “Alright, since Bellie currently isn’t allowed to drive I guess that leaves me. Grab the kids, I want each of you upfront to learn how to pilot this thing.”

Sariel scooped up Arty and Tressa picked up Bellie. In the control cabin Tyrana gave them a brief tutorial of the controls then switched on the drive engine.

Before Tressa could ask Tyrana explained, “Battle-wagons have two engines. The auxiliary engine runs independently and powers all of the features in the common area, bunks, and cargo bay. The drive engine shuts off the auxiliary and powers everything including the vehicle’s motion and defenses. That is if we had defenses.”

She took the wheel and started them down the road.

“Down by my feet are three pedals. Accelerator on the far right, brake in the middle, and clutch on the far left. Up here you have the wheel, gear shift, and the main control panel. We will get to all of that eventually. For now I want you both to watch my feet as I drive and shift gears. I want you both to know how to get us going and how to keep us moving,” Tyrana told them.

“It don’t look too complicated,” Tressa said.

“Indeed. Bellithandra seems to handle it well. I assume Kiya can also operate the vehicle?” Sariel asked.

“Better than I can,” Tyrana stated.

“Then I shall endeavor to master it quickly, Captain,” Sariel said.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination. The big blue barn really stood out. Tyrana killed the engine then led the group to the upper deck, the canopy. There she took a tactical assessment of the area.

“Sariel, take notes.”

Sariel already had a pencil and notepad out as she carried Arty on her hip.

“We’ll need this part outfitted too. It’s got a fire pit and canopy shielding. I want that reinforced physically and magically if Bellie’s contact can get it done,” Tyrana said as she looked at Bellie who was riding on Tressa’s hip, thumb firmly in her mouth.

Tressa looked at the dwarf on her hip, “She’s still a young’un.”

“Noted. Sariel I want weapons at the front, sides, and rear. Bring the railing up by another foot and solid paneling. Just in case anyone who isn’t an adult wanders up here. In fact, put a pen up here too. Right here,” Tyrana said as she pointed to the spots she was most concerned about securing.

“A pen?” Tressa asked.

“Playpen,” Sariel and Tyrana said in unison.

Tressa looked confused and all Tyrana could do was chuckle. She walked over to the railing and looked out to the hilly terrain beyond the farms. Her companions joined her. Together they looked on in silence as they waited for Kiya to return. It didn’t take long. Just short of an hour into their vigil Nyx came bounding into view. Kiya came strolling onto the scene afterwards. They met the two at the door and ushered them back onto the carrier.

“Where’s Bellie?” Kiya asked before anything else.

Tressa pointed over to the couch where she had set the dwarf down and Kiya made a beeline for her.

Bellie was looking over the back of the couch and saw the woman coming. She slipped down and tried to hide. Kiya came around the couch and saw the shorter woman trying her best to make herself very, very small. She had pulled a cushion over her head but was looking at Kiya from beneath it. Kiya frowned, took a step back, then knelt down so that she was near eye level with her.

“Hey,” Kiya said.

“Hi,” Bellie responded.

“You are not a vice. You aren’t a bad decision. You are one of the best decisions Artaius and Tyrana ever made. You are a decision I am glad I got to make for myself. I am sorry about earlier. I was a big meanie. Can you give me another chance?” Kiya pleaded.

Bellie moved the cushion to cover her face. Then she moved it back so she could see Kiya once more. She didn’t smile but she did nod. It was a quick, jerky movement but it was one Kiya recognized as Little Bellie being her genuine self.

Kiya smiled, “Thank you Trouble. Want to come talk big people business? Arty’s going to be there.”

Bellie didn’t need any more coaxing. She was happy on the couch alone because she was still a big girl. The thought of Arty sitting with the grownups as they discussed grownup business without her was nothing short of a betrayal in her mind. She was the adult and he was the baby! She scrambled over to Kiya and climbed right into her arms.

“Hey! Okay, wasn’t expecting that but I am not complaining. Come on, you can keep the squirt and goofball in line for me,” Kiya said as she rose to carry Bellie to the table.

Kiya didn’t set Bellie down in a separate seat. She kept the dwarf on her lap. Bellie looked over to see Arty in his highchair drinking from his bottle. She asked for a cup of juice and was given one. With the hierarchy established, she allowed the meeting to begin.

Tyrana had already started, “Kiya, report.”

“Trail was mostly cold. I was able to find tracks that led to a riverbed. After that, nothing. They could be anywhere in those hills,” Kiya told them.

“Four bugbears in the hillside. Sounds dangerous enough but now we are talking about a vast expanse for them to hide in and we are only assuming there are four,” Sariel stated.

“Suggestions?” Tyrana asked.

“I say we go with a stake out. Sooner or later they will raid the village again. When they do, we follow them. Nyx won’t lose a fresh trail even if they take to the river,” Kiya suggested.

“That means we have to let them come in and possibly harm villagers. Not to mention it makes us more reactive than I care for us to be, especially since we have already made an agreement with Charles,” Tyrana stated.

“We could head into the hills with the knowledge we currently have. Charles said the other mercenaries did not return. Perhaps we will find a trail that leads away from the area, signs of a fight, or even the group in distress. We can also send off to the UAG’s records on the area. There may be information on this group of bugbears as well as maps of the area,” Sariel suggested.

“How long to get a response?” Tyrana asked.

“Getting in touch with the UAG is simple and instantaneous from here. We are in their territory and they are openly accepting scryings. In the field it will be harder. The response would be immediate, however the time to provide the information we are requesting could take anywhere from minutes to days depending on its availability, detail, and current staffing,” Sariel explained.

Tyrana was already shaking her head, “Less reactionary but that puts us at the mercy of the guild’s time and concern for these folks as well as depending on chance. Too many factors out of our control.”

“They stole livestock. That means wherever they took it needs a path to walk to. If we head out to the hills and look for walkways, even minorly tended, we’ll probably find them,” Bellie said.

Tyrana leaned over to look the woman in the eye, “Well hello. Are you back with the grown-ups?”

Bellie shrugged, “I think I’m good now. Just needed some time I guess.”

“Well your timing is perfect. Just like your suggestion. We head out at once. If you’re up to it I want you at the wheel,” Tyrana said as she stood.

“Mind if I smoke while I drive?” Bellie asked.

“You’re pushing it but as long as it’s not around the baby I’ll allow it,” Tyrana sighed.

“Then I’m your girl,” Bellie said tiredly.

She started to get up from Kiya’s lap but Kiya hugged her and kissed her cheek.

“Welcome back Trouble,” Kiya told her.

“Yeah, love you too,” Bellie said as she turned and kissed Kiya.

They gave Bellie a bit of time to get herself together. While she did the rest of them got themselves set for the ride.

Kiya was in the co-driver’s seat. She had operated rigs like this all of her life especially when she was in the military. The longer she sat in the seat the more she complained about the quality of the controls, not their function but their literal quality.

“I want every panel and switch on this thing changed out when we get to a town with an outfitter. These controls are flimsy. If I flip a switch too fast it’s going to pop off, I’m not exaggerating,” she told Sariel who of course made a note.

Sariel was at her navigation station. HER navigation station. She had claimed it and wasn’t going to budge. When Bellie came up to take the wheel she noticed that Sariel’s feet didn’t reach the floor while sitting in the chair that was bolted into the wall.

“Gonna kick your feet?” Bellie asked playfully.

Sariel rolled her eyes.

Bellie sat down and her head dropped not just below the steering wheel but below the control panel and her feet were nowhere near the pedals.

Sariel leaned over and asked her, “Do you need a booster seat?”

Kiya tried to hide her laughter at both of them.

Bellie laughed to herself. She adjusted the seat from where Tyrana had left it and then adjusted the steering wheel. Once she was comfortable she opened her window, lit her cigar, and rolled out!

Meanwhile Kiya and Bellie pulled the four-wheeler off the battle-wagon. Then they took the windsail off of the other vehicle. They brought that one down as well. Kiya had Tressa lift the drop door so they could wedge the two scavanger vehicles beneath it.

“This is your idea?” Sariel asked.

“Yeah,” Kiya said.

“This does not seem at all safe,” Sariel stated.

“Its safe enough as long as we drive slowly,” Kiya said.

“So not Bellie,” Tressa said.

“Not Bellie,” Kiya and Sariel said in unison.

So Bellie navigated as Sariel practiced her driving. They moved slowly through the city, down busy avenues, past multiple artificer and mechanic shops, and through crowds. Every once in a while someone called out to them to heckle about the damage to their battle-wagon. Several times someone tried to climb on the drop gate. Kiya threw any adults off. She let the kids that tried make as many attempts as they could before she walked over and set them gently back on the street.

They crossed into a side of town that felt all too familiar to Kiya. Unsupervised kids didn’t just run across the street, they moved like they knew more than they should. There were plenty of shops and merchant carts but every so often she spotted a beggar that seemed too comfortable or a merchant that was focused more on them than their own wares. Doors to apartment buildings were missing or kicked in. The apartments that were full of life had windows that sported boarding strong enough to deter entry but not block moon or sunlight.

This was the seedy side of town. It didn’t bother Kiya. She lived in streets worse than this. She thrived in them. Before Tyrana and Artaius this is where someone would have found her. She was fine with this place, at home even. But Tyrana wasn’t going to like it if this is where they found Bellie’s “guy”.

They pulled into an open lot with a run-down mechanic’s garage next to it. Sariel hit a tree while parking. As a group they walked from the battle-wagon to the building. Even Artaius and Nyx were present. Artaius in Tressa’s arms and Nyx at Kiya’s heel. The sign on the building read “Jerry’s Rigs”.

Before they entered, Tyrana surveyed the area. She sighed, “Bellie, is this really the place?”

“Yep! Jerry’s Rigs. Good old Jer owes me a favor…or I owe him one…or he might want my first born kid. I can’t remember. But either way he can handle everything we need,” Bellie said. Then she added, “Keep Artaius under a blanket.”

Bellie led the way inside. The door swung open hitting a dented bell. It clanked more than rang. There were maybe twelve people laying about doing nothing. No one ever bothered to look up at them. Sariel noted a gnoll, two trolls, one kobold, a couple lizardfolk, three moa, and some humans. A rat ran across the floor.

“Oh Dewey it’s the barn all over again,” Sariel said. She turned to leave.

Kiya had her by her waist before she could even finish her turn. This time she just picked her up and carried her on her hip.

“Lieutenant Darkwalker I will not be handled in such an undignified–” Sariel started to say but then a much larger rat walked lazily by the group. She clung to Kiya. “Do not put me down!”

Tyrana, already annoyed, loudly asked, “Is anyone here working or capable of working for that matter?”

One of the moa, a gray feathered one, and the kobold stood up and walked over.

“We can work. We gots no work to do. You got work?” asked the moa.

“That depends,” Tyrana said. “Bellie is one of them the person we want to speak to?”

“Nope. Hey, where’s Jerry?” Bellie asked.

“Jerry’s in the office”, the moa said. He pointed his winged arm toward a shed, an actual garden shed, in the corner.

Kiya chuckled, “Of course.”

Bellie marched over to the shed and knocked on the door. There was no answer so she knocked again.

“It’s not quittin’ time so leave me alone and get back to work,” came a voice from inside.

“Sounds like Jerry,” Bellie said. She knocked again just to be sure.

“Earl I swear to Hacks if you knock again I am going to put a wrench so far up your feathered ass that–” Jerry was saying but that was when Bellie kicked the door open.

“Hiya Jerry you old dog! Do I own you a favor or do you owe me one? I can’t remember and you can’t have my first born either. It’s really complicated but his other moms might kill you,” Bellie said.

“Will kill you,” Kiya corrected.

“Yeah no questions on the killing part,” Bellie agreed.

Sitting there in a folding chair behind a desk that was obviously stolen from a schoolhouse was a short and lean looking lizard-like creature. His skin was so black that if it weren’t for the fact that it was scaled he would look like a solid blotch of darkness. He had a wide mouth filled with sharp teeth. In fact they were all sharp, not a single flat. His nose was long and crooked. He had a mullet of white and red striped hair. His ears were long and pointed. Each of his fingers had four knuckles instead of three and ended in a thick forked claw.

Tyrana inhaled. She had heard of such creatures but in all her years and all of her travels she had never seen one.

“Scales is that guy a–” Kiya started to ask.

“Bellie? Bellithandra Sparklefoot?! Hacks be broken it is you!!!” Jerry said as he leapt to his feet. He was around her height. He ran over to hug Bellie and the two danced around as they embraced.

“Yes, Kiya. I believe it is,” Tyrana said. On a whim she turned her head to Artaius without taking her eyes off of Bellie and Jerry. “Artaius. Have you ever seen one?”

Artaius was drinking his bottle. He didn’t stop. He too kept his eyes on Bellie and this new person. Eyes that were too wise for a baby. But suddenly he turned his head and caught sight of Sariel being held by Kiya. He glared at her.

Sariel saw him and narrowed her eyes, “Not a word, Artaius.”

“Hush,” Kiya said as she adjusted Sariel and gently tapped her thigh.

Sariel kept her eyes on Artaius who finally looked away. He turned his attention back to Bellie. Then he said something but forgot to take the bottle from his mouth.

Tyrana sighed, “That tracks.”

Artaius didn’t stop drinking from his bottle but he did start enthusiastically pointing at both Bellie and Sariel. Tyrana just smiled at him for the effort. Kiya however, burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that she had to step back to keep her balance.

“Lieutenant?” Tyrana asked.

“Scales! Don’t you get it? He really is a genius!” Kiya laughed.

Bellie and Jerry stopped dancing around. Bellie turned to the guild and said, “Ladies and gentle-baby, this is Jerry Rigs. He is a master artificer, engineer, and mechanic. In case you have never met one, Tressa, he is also a gremlin.”

As soon as the word left Bellie’s mouth Tyrana turned to look at Artaius who was still pointing at Bellie and Sariel with both hands. This was forcing Tressa to hold his bottle for him. Tyrana slowly looked over at Kiya and took a steadying breath.

“You call them–” Tyrana started to say.

“GREMLINS!” Kiya laughed.

“Did I miss a joke?” Bellie asked.

“Nope,” Kiya said.

“Well then this is my guy, Jerry! Jerry, this is my guild, The Dark Sand,” Bellie said.

Jerry walked up to Tyrana and held out his hand. She bent down and shook.

“Any friend of Bellithandra’s is a person that understands my great pain and annoyance. You have my sympathy,” Jerry said.

“Hey!” Bellie said.

“Bellithandra I love you like a sister. But if these people are truly your friends then they know that I am neither joking nor without cause. The last time I saw you I was on my way to the clink and you were high tailing it out of town on that tour bus of yours,” Jerry said.

“That’s not my fault. You sold me stolen speakers,” Bellie argued.

“THAT HAS YET TO BE PROVEN BY THE MAGISTRATES,” Jerry shouted.

Bellie shrank back and held her hands up in surrender. “Whoa whoa whoa. Someones touchy,” she said.

“I did not sell you stolen speakers. I sold you speakers that we found…in a dark alley…behind some boxes. But that’s not the point. I told you not to use them in the city limits,” Jerry said.

“And I didn’t,” Bellie said.

“You drove down two blocks and put on a concert in the middle of the street,” Jerry said dryly.

“I’m not seeing an issue. My fans saw the bus and wanted to have a show,” Bellie shrugged.

“The issue is that it’s illegal to have spell amplification speakers on a civilian vehicle and you told everyone that your new sound was courtesy of Jerry’s Rigs!” Jerry yelled while jumping up and down.

Bellie smiled, “Free advertisement?” she chuckled.

Jerry stared at her and said, “They were beating down my door before you started singing.”

“Well I do know how to please a crowd,” Bellie bragged.

“You started a riot!” Jerry growled.

“Eh, tomato tomoto,” Bellie said.

Jerry just laughed to himself. He turned his attention to Tyrana and asked, “What can I do for you?”

Tyrana straightened, “I have a battle-wagon I need repaired, outfitted, and updated. Bellie called you a master artificer, engineer, and mechanic. Can you do all of that or do you not live up to Bellie’s hype?”

A bark of laughter escaped Jerry. Then he threw his head back and laughed as hard as Kiya had done earlier. Once he sobered he wiped a tear from his eye and took a deep breath.

“Ms. Dragon Lady, not even the gods can live up to Bellie’s hype. How about you show me yours before I show you mine? Show me what I’m working with,” he said.

They went outside to the lot to look at the battle-wagon.

As they walked Kiya whispered to Sariel, “You good?”

“Yeah,” Sariel said.

“No you aren’t,” Kiya said.

“I said yeah,” Sariel argued.

“That’s not a word you use. I got you,” Kiya said.

“I didn’t like the rat,” Sariel said.

“I know,” Kiya said as she patted her thigh.

As they approached the battle-wagon Tyrana noted the many dents, scrapes, and holes in the hull and the armored roof of the canopy. She saw that part of the back tread was busted but it was holding on. Of course the drop gate to the cargo bay and the damage to the cargo bay itself. She tells Jerry that it is worse on the other side where they hit the city wall.

Jerry stopped about twenty yards from the battle-wagon. His bright pink eyes darkened the moment he stepped into the sunlight. They now looked like obsidian glass. He lifted the brim of his cap and whistled.

Tyrana nodded knowingly. This was more than they could handle. But this was Bellie’s friend so she was polite about asking. “As you can see the damage is extensive. Do you think its something you can handle or should we–”

“How the hell did you get your hands on one of these?” Jerry asked cutting Tyrana off mid sentence.

Tyrana shook her head, a little perturbed that the diminutive gremlin had interrupted her, “Bellie purchased it from–”

“From the Sparkcrank Clan?! Wow! You must be loaded, connected, and made by the guild! This is a Sparkcrank Tomb Raider 1!” Jerry said.

“I’m sorry but who?” Tyrana asked.

“Sparkcrank. A Gnomish engineering clan. They are famous for their siege weapons. The UAG has wanted them to build raid class vehicles for some time but they never did,” Sariel said.

“Thank you,” Kiya told her.

“And they sold you one direct? Wow!” Jerry said.

“No. Bellie purchased this from a dealership just two days ago actually,” Tyrana informed him.

“Impossible. This thing doesn’t hit the market until Winter Solstice. They sent out maybe five of them as display models to build interest. I went and saw one about a month ago and the thing was locked down harder than a dragon in a dwarven mine. Couldn’t even give me a price because those gnomes are so secretive. No way any dealer that got to display one of these babies sold it,” Jerry said.

Tyrana turned to Bellie only to find the dwarf trying to hide behind Tressa. Artaius pointed her out just in case Tyrana somehow missed her.

“Bellie, please tell Mr. Rigs how you purchased our battle-wagon,” Tyrana said.

Bellie blushed as her face cringed. She tapped her index fingers together before saying, “Yeah about that. Tyrana, Big Mommy, I may not have exactly purchased it in a traditional way.”

Tyrana narrowed her eyes as she spoke very calm and low, “What does that mean?”

Bellie stepped back, “Well. I knew we needed a wagon and I knew you meant a horse and cart but that just wasn’t doing it for me. So I asked what the biggest guilds were doing. The merchant showed me the battle-wagons and I asked which one was the absolute best. He showed me this but then told me it wasn’t for sale.”

Tyrana pinched the bridge of her nose, “So if it wasn’t for sale how did you get it?”

“Like I said, for a song. I sang him to sleep in his office, lifted the keys, and here we are. We got a battle-wagon!” Bellie said.

“I should have known. I should have trusted my instincts. But no, I didn’t want to think the first part of this journey would involve you stealing our battle-wagon,” Tyrana said.

“I know you don’t approve of stealing but we needed it. To save–” Bellie began.

“Shut it Bellithandra. We could have bought a battle-wagon. All you had to do was tell Sariel and she would have given you any amount of coin you needed. Instead you stole something that wasn’t for sale!” Tyrana shouted.

Bellie shrank back.

Before Tyrana could continue Kiya stepped between them. She still had Sariel in her arms. The assassin met the paladin’s eyes and held her ground. Tyrana huffed a gout of flame then took a deep, steadying breath.

“What’s done is done. We will talk about this later,” Tyrana said.

Jerry began laughing, “Oh boy. You guys got it worse than I did. Bellie screwed me over but that happens in business. Y’all are together everyday! I can only imagine the headache that is.”

“Oh she’s a headache alright. But I still wouldn’t change a thing about her,” Tyrana sighed.

Bellie visibly relaxed.

“Agreed! Tell you what. Let’s go back to the office and figure out what you need done. If you got the coin, I’ve got the skills to make it happen,” Jerry said.

Inside of his office Jerry sat behind his desk. He had chairs brought in for everyone.

Kiya whispered to Sariel, “Want to sit in your own chair?”

Sariel buried her head against Kiya’s shoulder. “I am a professional. We will be discussing financial matters. That is my department. I can do this. I will do this.”

Kiya stood the elf woman on the ground and patted the chair next to Tyrana. Once Sariel moved to the chair she sat to her left, sandwiching her between Tyrana and herself.

Tyrana looked at Sariel and nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Vexwyn.”

“I will perform my duties. I will not falter. Once this is done I request some time to myself to recenter,” Sariel said.

“Granted,” Tyrana said.

Once everyone was seated, Jerry took out several large pieces of paper. From memory he began sketching different areas of the battle-wagon. He even added accurate measurements. It took him around fifteen minutes to create several different drawings. Over each he placed a piece of stiff plastic. He set down several ink wells and quills.

“Now before we get down to the bare bolts we have to establish two things. First, time frame. How much time do we have to work with?” Jerry asked. “Before you answer, I already sent out a couple guys to find out what the word is about your battle-wagon. The Sparkcranks want it back but don’t have a solid lead on you yet. I say within the next seven to eight days they are going to track you here and then send someone to confirm. Then they will be after you.”

“If that is the case then I want to be gone in six days. Seven if you must,” Tyrana said.

“Seven is more than enough time. We may be able to do everything in six. But definitely seven,” Jerry said as he marked out seven days on a chart. “Next is coin. How much are we working with? Once I know that I will make my recommendations and you can pick what you want.”

Sariel took a runestone from her satchel. She set it down on the table for Jerry to inspect.

“A bank stone? We have access so you can definitely assign funds as needed. But I need to know how much you are willing to spend,” Jerry clarified.

“This stone is keyed to one million gold coins. I will authorize more as needed,” Sariel said.

“Ladies, are you saying that money is not an issue?” Jerry asked.

“Our benefactor is an Archmage of some renown. He has made sure that we have access to a portion of his fortune that should more than cover outfitting a single battle-wagon,” Sariel said.

“Might I have the name of this Archmage?” Jerry asked.

Sariel did not respond. All eyes turned to Tyrana. All eyes except for Kiya.

Kiya shrugged. “Blackstorm. Artaius Blackstorm. My husband. If you contact the bank you will find my name on the vault this is pulled from. So no, money is not an issue.”

“Blackstorm? The time mage? Bellie you run with some interesting company. Okay. Let’s get to it!” Jerry said.

He set a large catalog on the desk. Then he took out a piece of paper and drew three columns.

“Weapon systems, utility fixtures, or defensive features? Where would you like to start?” Jerry asked.

“Before we get started on your main area of expertise, we have some interior work that we want done. Can you handle it?” Tyrana asked.

“Such as?” Jerry asked.

Tyrana nodded to Sariel. The elf produced a detailed list of changes they wanted made to the interior of the battle-wagon. She handed it to Jerry who looked it over.

“Nothing too extreme here. We can handle it. The renovation, I mean. The furniture…tell you what: you buy it, we will install it. Either have it delivered here or tell me where to pick it up,” Jerry said. “Now where do you want to start?”

“Weapons please,” Tyrana said.

Jerry pulled out a schematic and handed it to Tyrana. Then he started drawing on the plastic over the picture of the battle-wagon. “Let’s start with the forward mounting. I suggest a dual-barreled mana cannon. It’s not as refined as an arcane bolt caster but it uses less energy and packs the same punch. It’s retractable and doesn’t turn enough to shoot the tires,” Jerry said.

Kiya was looking over the schematic. “Where would the control be?”

“Installed into the dash of the control cabin. One control in the shared console between the driver and co-driver seats,” Jerry said.

“Now while we are up here, let’s replace the front bumper with a reinforced plow shield. This baby sits upfront as a normal bumper so the cannon just runs under it as normal. But it can be raised as a defense to protect the control cabin. It can also be lowered to act as a plow. Now in that position your cannon would be locked out to keep you from breaking either unit. The upper part of the plow can also extend three times. This means that when in the plow position the upper shielding can go into ‘tower’ mode to protect the cabin while plowing through your enemies,” Jerry said as he drew and handed them another schematic from his catalog.

“And it won’t hinder our vision?” Tyrana asked.

“It’s constructed with glassteel normally but I suggest the titanglass upgrade. It’s expensive, quadruple the price, but it will maximize visibility and withstand magical assaults better than glassteel,” Jerry explained.

“Why does it sound like we are gonna take the wagon into dungeons?” Tressa asked. Artaius was asleep in her arms.

“Because that is the point of a battle-wagon, my dear. Some dungeons are large enough for them to travel through and some even require you to bring in siege equipment. Battle-wagons were made to give you crazy adventuring types a mobile home and a mobile weapon to aid in your dives,” Jerry explained.

“I am also going to upgrade your windshield wiper system, free of charge. I just don’t like the current setup. It’s stupid. Fuck it. Don’t argue. You will love the one I install,” Jerry said.

“But our battle-wagon ain’t even on the market yet, right? Is this stuff gonna work?” Tressa asked.

“Oh I like this girl! Yes it will. The Sparkcranks designed most of the equipment in this catalog. They just never made their own vehicle. Everything here is going to fit on your wagon like a brand new coat of paint. Which, by the way, is my next question. Do you want a new coat of paint?” Jerry asked.

“Oh yes! Pink and purple with glitter in the name: Sparklefoot Express!!!” Bellie said.

“No!” Sariel and Kiya said in unison.

“Rude. I got the damn thing,” Bellie pouted.

“Trouble, hush it,” Kiya snapped.

“Would that take up much time?” Tyrana asked.

“Yes. In the case of a full body upgrade like this, yes,” Jerry said.

“Another time then. Just our logo will do for now,” Tyrana said.

Sariel handed him an image of a black hourglass with black sand.

Jerry looked over the image, then he drew it on several parts of the battle-wagon image.

“Tell you what dragon lady. You bring this back someday when you aren’t under a time crunch, along with any other vehicles you have, and I will paint them for you. No charge, and before you ask why, it’s because I have feelings about you lot,” Jerry said.

He did a few drawings along the left side image and right side image of the battle-wagon. He set several schematics in front of Tyrana and Kiya. Then he made a few additional drawings.

“That’s the potatoes, let’s do the meat. You want weapons and have two mount areas here for folding drop mounts. I measured and figured out the best features you can do. Again they are expensive and will bring us well over what you have allocated so far. Right now we are sitting just under that amount,” Jerry said.

He handed a tally sheet to Sariel with the upgrades they had agreed on so far. Sariel took it and then produced her own ledger.

“Let me know the final total. Again, money is not an issue as long as you have access to the banking system,” Sariel said.

Jerry nodded and said, “Then my next suggestion is twin mounted assault batteries. Most guilds would put four different weapons here. One different standard assault battery on each side and one specialty weapon on each side. That’s stupid if you have a good caster. One that knows how to write a spell, not just throw it. You got one?”

Kiya looked at Sariel and Tyrana patted her on the back. Sariel cut a look over at the sleeping Artaius. But she looked at Jerry and smiled.

“What kind of caster are you?” Jerry asked.

“A wizard. A documancer,” Sariel said.

Jerry’s grin grew wider. “A documancer? They call you the spell thieves of the wizarding profession. Is it true that you don’t have to master a spell? You just have to write it down?”

“That is not how it works, nor is it pertinent to this discussion,” Sariel said.

Jerry pursed his lips. “Do you have one? A caster?” he asked.

“Again, that is not pertinent to this discussion,” Sariel said.

Jerry reached into his desk and produced a business card. He handed it directly to Sariel. She examined it then nodded as she quickly pocketed it.

“Thank you,” Sariel said.

Kiya narrowed her eyes. Before she could say anything Jerry continued.

“You have a mage worth her salt so I suggest two weapons instead of four. Two repeating siege bolt launchers. One on each side. They are basically giant repeating crossbows. They shoot three-foot-long, two-inch-diameter bolts at your target. You currently have fifteen of them sticking out of your battle-wagon,” Jerry said as he set one of the bolts he had retrieved on the desk.

“If it couldn’t take down our wagon then what’s the point?” Tressa asked.

“The guys that came after you probably had homemade or third-party rip-offs of the launchers. Not even repeating from what the damage tells me. The ones you will have will have five times the power behind them. They will bury a bolt in a castle wall, crack a mage’s spell wall, and piss off a dragon that isn’t covered in one-hundred-year-old scales,” Jerry said.

“No heads?” Kiya asked as she inspected the unbroken bolt.

“These were likely homemade as well. The heads can be standard sculpted or customized. I’m guessing you have a head in mind,” Jerry said.

“Yes,” Kiya replied.

“Get my guy a sketch or if you have one already just hand it to him in the next two days. We’ll have two thousand for you by the time you’re ready to leave. The bolts are typically iron and I don’t suggest upgrading to steel, no point really. Yes it’s more reliable but honestly you’re running and gunning, you aren’t looking to retrieve these. The artillery case holds fifty bolts and fully loaded weighs about eighty pounds. Typically it takes two people to operate the launcher in a prolonged battle. But looking at you two I am thinking you can reload on your own,” Jerry said as he looked at Tressa and Tyrana.

“Save the cases, they are reloadable. Gonna reinforce your storage too and add a rack on the drop gate. It’s not too expensive but you’ll have five artillery cases in arm’s reach. So six total for three hundred shots each. If you can’t end a fight in six hundred shots then normally I would say you are fucked, but you have money. So we are adding an arcane bolt caster cannon on the drop mounting. We integrate the controls and one person can operate both. It is just the five of you, isn’t it?” Jerry asked. “Well six if you include the direwolf hiding in the scary lady’s shadow.”

Kiya smiled at that. “You can see what’s in my shadow?”

“I’m a gremlin. We are shadowtouched by birth. I see him. Still a pup but damn he is scary,” Jerry said.

Kiya nodded. “Just the five of us, the direwolf, and the baby.”

“Okay so I will integrate the controls. The cannons fire arcane bolts, same as wands, staffs, and casters. But they can be charged to levels two, three, and four. The higher level you charge to and fire the more damage it can inflict but it will need to cool down. You can fire level ones for about one bolt every three seconds for three minutes straight before it needs to cool down. Cooldown takes about a minute and you can charge up to a level two while it cools down. If it overheats it won’t blow, well not with the safety ports we are adding. Those will shut it down and force a magical cooldown. It will actually ice parts of the cannon. The ice will break once it’s fully cooled down. You will need to recharge the mana battery for this manually once a month. It will then run off of the mana battery of the cannon to actually cast its cooling spell but its detection doesn’t so just recharge it once a month or best to get in the habit of doing it once a week. It won’t hurt to try to charge it when it’s full,” Jerry said.

“That pretty much covers the main weapons, right?” Kiya asked.

“Sure does. The setup you have on the canopy I can do better: mounted launchers, fixed storage cases, proper safety rigging, and of course I can get whatever ammo you want. But defenses are the next thing. Nothing major here. I can reinforce the plating along the hull, around and above the canopy. Then I want to switch out your front tires for reinforced steel-belted ones. If you get a flat you won’t notice until the entire wheel is destroyed and ripped off. Your treads need repair but they are already top of the line. I have a guy that can magically reinforce both the wheels and treads. I will get your documancer a copy of the spell to reinforce it once a month,” Jerry said.

“I can have ward arrays etched into the interior and exterior. You can bespell them anyway you want. Each array will hold three enchantments at a time. I will have one active when you leave, a magic warding that will protect from magical attacks as well as targeted non-attacks like scrying. Again I will get you a copy of the spell but you probably already have your own. Before you would have to go to each array to cast the spell but we can add a spell relay console to the control cabin or wherever you want it. Just sit there, pick the array from the list, cast, and repeat.”

“Then that covers just about everything,” Tyrana said.

“No. You have a bard…THE Bard if the top ten charts mean anything. Might as well weaponize her. I can redo your interior speakers, they are crap anyway. I’ll keep the handset but add a headset for her that will activate the magical relays. It will amplify her voice inside and outside of the battle-wagon. Whatever magic she puts into that voice of hers will be amplified. And yes, before you ask we can get the headset in pink,” Jerry said.

Bellie was bouncing in her seat. Kiya was shaking her head. Tyrana nodded in agreement.

“I also suggest an arcane defense dome. It will shut down everything we have talked about but it’s meant for you to be safe while you run like hell. It will create an arcane barrier that’s been tested against a red dragon. Think of it like a turtle shell. It’ll hold long enough for you to get away…probably,” Jerry said.

“Probably?” Tyrana asked.

“Hey they tested it against a red dragon. It says that on the item description. It doesn’t say what happened during the test. Sorry,” Jerry shrugged.

“Fair enough. Anything else?” Tyrana asked.

“You are dungeoneers. Do you have an excavation team?” Jerry asked.

“Only Kiya if she feels like pointing out something for me to load back onto the wagon,” Tyrana said.

“Ah…so really just getting your feet wet. Well you’re more equipped than most. More organized too. Plus you have the best resource there is; money. So my final suggestion is an excavation tool but it’s something every battle-wagon should have. Grappling chains. Launchers mounted on the sides, the undercarriage of the front, and the undercarriage of the back. Eight total, two hundred feet of spell-reinforced dwarven steel chains. Each attached to a spear-headed grapple. Rune-etched to release on your command from the control console but other than that it should lock into anything it pierces,” Jerry explained as he drew on the battle-wagon pictures again. He then produced another schematic.

“Of everything it’s going to be the least expensive individual item assembly but you want two on each side so a total of eight. This alone will hit the one million mark. I have a total here except for the three auxiliary vehicles you brought in. You want them outfitted too?” Jerry asked.

“Those aren’t ours. They were the raiders that attacked us. Scrap them, sell them, whatever,” Tyrana said.

“Hold up. Spoils of war. You got any schematics for them?” Kiya asked.

Jerry slid her another catalog. This one of smaller vehicle upgrades and accessories.

“I think that covers everything, except whatever my lieutenant has in her head. There is only one other thing I need from you for all of this,” Tyrana said.

“What would that be Captain Dreamscale?” Jerry asked.

“Childproof everything. If it’s something we have to move around every day and easily seen, it needs to be childproofed,” Tyrana said.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Jerry. The gremlin scratched his chin as he looked over the group. His eyes settled on Artaius, sleeping in Tressa’s arms.

“An odd request for a group of adventurers but an easy one. There are childproofing features. Again, expensive, but you have the coin,” Jerry said.

“Kiya, Sariel finish up here. Bellie and Tressa with me. We will gather our gear. We need to find a place to stay for a few days,” Tyrana said as she stood.

“What about all the stuff we wanted to buy?” Tressa asked.

Tyrana turned back to Jerry. “Do you offer upgrades that aren’t tactical? Couches, tables, beds?” she asked.

“No, but if you buy the items in the city and have them delivered here we can adjust and install them. It will be an extra charge but I have guys that are here just for such things. Everyone has preferences, we just don’t keep a catalog. So instructions will be needed,” Jerry said.

Tyrana nodded. Bellie hugged Jerry. Then Tyrana led her and Tressa to gather their things.

Jerry tallied up everything and added his labor costs, as well as his “Bellithandra brought trouble to my door” cost. He handed the current total to Sariel. Sariel corrected his math. Then they began haggling.

Kiya interrupted when she found what she wanted done with all three vehicles. Jerry was quick to tally up a price. Sariel however had a few things to say on Kiya’s choices.

“Lieutenant Darkwalker you cannot be serious,” Sariel said.

“Sariel it’s my money. Pay the man,” Kiya told her.

“Want them painted?” Jerry asked.

“Yes! Dark Sand logo on each. On the sail of the third one. Something to blend in in most dungeons for the bike and four-wheeler. Bright red for the third. Black trim though,” Kiya said.

“Got it! Is there anything else that we can do for you ladies?” Jerry asked.

“I think that will be it,” Kiya said.

“Lieutenant Darkwalker, would it be too much for me to request a cosmetic addition?” Sariel asked.

Kiya looked at the elf who was still seated. Her legs were bouncing but Jerry likely couldn’t see that. Kiya didn’t think urgency was an issue. But she was definitely struggling with something.

“Say-Say?” Kiya asked.

Sariel beamed at her then blushed. She turned away.

“Magus Vexwyn,” Kiya corrected.

Sariel snapped back to attention. Her embarrassment gone but still, Kiya saw more in those eyes than should be there right now.

“What would you like to add?” Kiya asked.

“This,” Sariel said as she handed a sheet of paper to Kiya.

Kiya’s eyes lit up. She passed the paper to Jerry with a grin and said, “I want it gold-plated and big enough to be seen from a wizard’s tower. Right on the back drop gate!”

“This I can do!” Jerry said. He totaled everything up and handed the detail sheet to Sariel.

Sariel corrected his math once more. Then she used her triplicate spell to make copies. Finally she keyed the necessary amount into the bank stone. Jerry was grinning when she slid it over to him.

“Ladies, in six days you aren’t going to recognize your battle-wagon. See you in a few days,” he said as he stood to shake their hands.

Kiya and Sariel went up the entry ramp so they could gather their things. Kiya just grabbed one of her “go” bags. For herself, she just needed a tee shirt to sleep in, items to clean herself and her weapons, and her brass knuckles. She carried everything else she considered necessary on her person: her boots, her swords, her daggers, her bow, her poisons, and her cloak.

Sariel had to pack her things. Kiya moved to her bunk, where she was trying to organize a bag. Kiya watched for a moment as Sariel fumbled through a few essentials. She kept putting things into her bag, then taking them back out.

“Need a hand?” Kiya asked.

“No, thank you, Lieutenant Darkwalker. I am capable of packing my own bag,” Sariel said. Then she put a book into her bag. Then she took it out and threw it across her bunk.

“Say-Say,” Kiya said.

Sariel froze.

“Say-Say,” Kiya repeated, less forceful than before.

Sariel turned to Kiya. Tears rimmed her eyes. Kiya moved to her, but Sariel recoiled, and Kiya stopped. Ever so slowly, Kiya resumed her approach, arms out. She reached Sariel and hugged her.

“I’m sorry! I was a burden at the barn. I froze and flummoxed my spell in the fight in the hills, and I regressed at the sight of a rat! A rat!” Sariel sobbed.

“Shush. I know. But we are here. You contributed. You stood up and did your part. Thank you for that,” Kiya said.

“Artaius would never have flummoxed a Light spell,” Sariel cried.

“You can’t compare yourself to the old man. You shouldn’t. He was an adventurer through and through. You were just trying to pay rent and tuition,” Kiya joked.

“The Archmage would be a far better wizard for the guild,” Sariel said.

“The Archmage is being breastfed by our wife right now and will probably throw up on her shoulder when she burps him. I think I will take his apprentice as my wizard. Let’s get you packed,” Kiya said as she started organizing Sariel’s things. “What do you need?”

“I am not like Bellithandra,” Sariel snapped.

Kiya looked at her and nodded. “No, you aren’t like Bellie. She’s a baby. I know you aren’t a baby all the time. But it is okay if you are sometimes. Not now! I know you aren’t right now. So let’s pack for Sariel and for Say-Say, who is definitely not a baby. Okay?”

Sariel bit her lip. She looked away, then back at Kiya. Finally, she nodded. Kiya smiled back at her, and they began packing Sariel’s bag. Kiya began packing. Sariel stood there and said yes or no to items that Kiya asked her about. Kiya did not ask about clothing, spell books, or shoes. She made those decisions for Sariel. She did, however, ask about a stuffed bear, several reading books, a small box that she knew contained a very babyish item that Sariel was convinced no one knew about, and two glasses cases that had glasses that would look completely juvenile on a child, let alone on Sariel.

Tressa walked up from the cargo bay. “Tyrana sent me to check on you guys. Need any help?”

“Nah, just finished packing the Nerd’s stuff. Is the old man fed?” Kiya asked.

“Yeah. Tyrana nursed him. Said she wanted him milk drunk so he wouldn’t blow his own cover in public,” Tressa shrugged.

Kiya held Sariel’s shoulder before asking, “Did he spit up on her when she burped him?”

“Yep. She’s changing her clothes. It was a lot,” Tressa said.

Sariel laughed. She laughed so hard that it hid her sobs enough that Tressa didn’t ask. Kiya knew. She hugged Sariel and whispered, “See, you’re our wizard. Even when he is big, you are our first choice. You aren’t filling in for the old man. I will find a way to get your head in the game. Just relax for now.”

Kiya ran back to her bunk and rummaged through the mess she had already created. She found something and tossed it into her go bag.

“Okay, let’s roll,” Kiya said.

“What was that?” Sariel asked.

“Nothing. Let’s go,” Kiya said as she took Sariel’s bag and threw it over her shoulder.

Out in the cargo bay, they found Bellie with her rolling trunk. Tressa picked up her duffle bag and her axe. Tyrana had changed from her under-armor to a gray blouse and black leather pants. She still wore her emergency weapon belt and was shrugging into her military coat. Beside her, she had two bags. She had a rolling trunk as well, but it was far larger than Bellie’s. She also had a nondescript satchel filled to the brim with supplies for Artaius.

“A diaper bag? Really?” Kiya asked.

Tyrana smiled at her. “Mad that you didn’t think to grab yours?”

“Shut up,” Kiya said. She had a green one for him. It had little daggers on it.

Kiya had Tressa put her duffle on top of Tyrana’s trunk, then she strapped them together. She told Tressa to pull the rolling trunk for Tyrana. She herself took the diaper bag because Tyrana had enough to deal with. Because she had a milk-drunk, half-conscious, regression-fogged archmage trying to climb out of his baby pram.

“I can walk, Tyrana,” Artaius said.

“You CAN toddle. Walking is a stretch. Also, it’s ‘Mommy.’ You have your adult mind, so let me know what you need to say when speaking to us,” Tyrana lectured.

Artaius huffed. “Mommy Tyrana, Mama Kiya, Mommy Sariel, Mommy Bellie, and—”

Artaius paused. He looked up at Tressa, who looked away nervously.

“Tressa, do you have a preference?” Artaius asked.

“Arty, you don’t have to call me anything but Tressa,” she said.

“He does. To keep him safe, he needs to act and respond like a baby. So what name do you prefer, Tressa?” Tyrana asked.

“If you’re nervous, ‘Auntie’ is acceptable too. I was an Auntie for a while,” Bellie said.

Tressa shrugged. “I ain’t never thought about it. When he is really a baby, he just calls me Tressy.”

“Ooo, Tressy. I like it. It’s giving big sister vibes.,” Bellie said.

“It gives him some leeway, like he can rope you into trouble. You would need to be firm with him or immediately tell us when he is up to something,” Tyrana said.

“It’s cute. It fits you, cowgirl. You’re a bit young to have a rugrat anyway,” Kiya said.

“I am not a rugrat!” Artaius said.

Kiya looked around. “Does anyone else hear squeaking?”

“I think it’s a good name for Tressa. Artaius has five adults that act as his parental figures. It stands to reason that one or two are the central figures, Tyrana and Kiya. The rest of us are extensions of their structure. Bellie is the ‘fun’ one, I am his instructor, and Tressa, as the youngest, does seem more like a big sister than a mother right now. That may change, but for now it’s a solid view of our group,” Sariel said. She was looking down at the floor the whole time.

“Then Tressy it is,” Artaius squeaked.

“Well, that’s official. Cowgirl, start figuring out if you want a ring or whatever for the ceremony. He’s flexible,” Kiya said as she took Sariel by the hand to lead her down the ramp.

“He has two rings already,” Tyrana said as she pushed Artaius back down onto the pillowy bottom of the pram. She followed behind Kiya and Sariel.

“You could do like me!” Bellie said as she hurried after the group.

“No!” Kiya, Sariel, and Tyrana all said in unison.

Tressa followed behind the group. She still wasn’t used to the whole group. She had spent time with each of them, had fallen in love with each of them, but individually. This group acted like they were all supposed to be together at all times, and that was not something she was used to. Not yet.

“Why can’t I do whatever it is that Bellie did?” she asked.

“Because Bellie is a juvenile delinquent with no filter, no sense of self-preservation, and no regard for Artaius’s health or safety,” Tyrana said.

“I care about his health and safety,” Bellie said.

“We just got you to stop letting him smoke when he is like this,” Kiya said.

“He likes his cigars,” Bellie argued.

“He has the lungs of an infant, Bellie. That’s why we don’t smoke around him at all. So he won’t want something he just shouldn’t have anymore,” Tyrana said.

They left the vicinity of Jerry’s Rigs and walked down the road perhaps two blocks before they found an inn. It was nothing fancy or out of the ordinary. There was an open area with tables and chairs spaced out around the room. Two opposite walls each had a large fireplace to keep the place warm. There was a bar at the far end.

Tyrana didn’t like it. There were already bar flies gathering for the evening. Some looked to be drunk already. She would have preferred to find something less typical, but she wanted to stay near the battle wagon.

Kiya, still leading Sariel by the hand, walked up to the bar. The barkeep was a burly woman a few inches taller than herself. She eyed Kiya and her crew.

“I’d say Mercs, but you got a baby. You steal it?” the bartender asked.

“I should have! That would have been easier than popping him out,” Kiya chuckled.

The barkeep laughed and slapped the bar. “Ain’t that the truth?!”

Kiya laughed with her, and Sariel covered her own mouth to hide her chuckle.

“Adventurers then. The name’s Franne. Welcome to The Left Boot,” Franne said as she set two mugs on the counter. “What can I do for you?”

“The Left Boot?” Kiya asked.

“The imprint that’ll be on your ass if I have to kick you out,” Franne said.

“Noted. Beer for me and the ladies behind me. Do you have milk?” Kiya asked.

“Yeah, for the baby?” Franne asked.

Kiya thumped her own breast. “Nah. He brought his own. For this elf. She can’t hold her liquor.”

Sariel blushed.

Franne poured the drinks. Kiya sent Sariel to serve the others but stayed to speak with Franne.

“You got open rooms?” Kiya asked.

“This is my place, and I stand by it being a good place for adventurers and mercs to rest their heads. But with a baby? You might want to find a place on a nicer side of town,” Franne said.

“Nah. Here is good as long as the beds are clean and we can get some hot water for a bath. How about that?” Kiya asked.

“Open rooms we got. Clean beds with no bugs, we got that too. I can get you hot water for a few baths,” Franne confirmed.

“How much for three rooms with tubs?” Kiya asked.

“With meals?” Franne asked.

“Yes,” Kiya confirmed.

“Three gold per night, per room,” Franne said.

Kiya pulled a bag of gold from a pocket and tossed it on the counter. “That should be enough to cover a few days. A little more actually,” she said.

“Not going to haggle?” Franne asked.

“It’s not my job. Plus I’m old hat at this. You charge what the mercs expect. Really, you could get by charging probably around a silver for a room. Mercs like a simple number like one, two, or three. You say copper, you’re cheating yourself. Silver, the mercs complain that you’re robbing them. Never understood that. Now you say gold, and they get suspicious, but they pay. Why? Because they want to prove they aren’t newbies or failures,” Kiya explained.

“You are old hat. Military?” Franne asked.

“That extra gold is for you to not report us to the bar gangs,” Kiya said. When Franne nodded, she added, “Most of us are ex-military.”

Kiya pulled out a cigar. Franne handed her a match, which Kiya thanked her for. Kiya struck the match across the bartop, then lit her cigar. She drank her beer and smoked as Franne got the keys to the rooms together. Kiya never looked over her shoulder toward the table where her family was sitting. Her eyes scanned the area surrounding them. There weren’t many bar toughs here today, but their scouts were here. The flies would sniff out targets, then buzz around an ass when they arrived.

Kiya knew that Sariel and Tressa didn’t recognize things like this yet. Tyrana and Bellie did. Tyrana wouldn’t deter anyone from acting as they normally would. It was the natural order of things, and as a paladin, she respected that. She would break anyone that threatened her or anyone under her protection in half, but she would not deter them from trying their hand. Bellie would welcome it. She was the smallest of the group, but she was a fighter. Most dwarves were, but Bellie loved a good brawl more than most dwarves.

“Here are your keys. We start serving dinner at sunset and keep the kitchen open until high moon. After that it’s just drinks, dried foods, and leftovers. Breakfast at sunrise until full rise, and lunch at high noon until three in the afternoon. Still got some of today’s lunch if you want it. Or if you need anything else, I’m listening,” Franne said.

“Does Jasper have a local dungeon?” Kiya asked.

Kiya walked over with another sandwich. This one had mustard. She set a tray down with four other sandwiches. She had put out her cigar before approaching. Sariel, Tressa, and Tyrana sat at this table. Bellie sat at one close by, smoking her own cigar. Artaius was in the pram, awake but fighting a losing battle against sleep. Kiya passed out the sandwiches. She set Sariel’s down last and began cutting it with a knife.

Tressa watched Kiya for a moment. Then she looked over at Bellie. Then down at Artaius. “Is Sariel—” she asked.

“No!” Sariel snapped.

“Yes,” Kiya said.

Sariel started to respond, but Tyrana held a finger to her own lips and shushed her. Sariel pursed her lips and held her tongue.

“Everyone eat. Then we are going up to our rooms. You did get rooms, correct, Lieutenant?” Tyrana asked.

“Yes. How’s the little prince?” Kiya asked.

“Groggy and due for another feeding,” Tyrana said.

“You really want him milk drunk,” Bellie said as she grabbed a sandwich.

“If he wasn’t, then he would be talking up a storm. Some things are better kept quiet,” Tyrana said as she looked over at Tressa.

Kiya pulled meat off of Sariel’s sandwich until it was basically bread, lettuce, and cheese. Then, and only then, did Sariel eat. Once she was eating, Kiya sat down to finish her beer. Her eyes scanned the room. They were being watched. Two of the runners she had spotted earlier were gone, their food and drink abandoned. She felt the gaze of someone looking over them for magic. A man in the corner fell over onto the floor. No one moved to assist him, but two people looked in his direction.

“Yeah, we need to go upstairs and have a talk,” Kiya said.

The Aether.

She ran her hand across the haze, and it sparked with mana like a piece of metal being dragged across the ground. The water flowed beyond the haze, but Kiya knew better than to push too hard against the dark barrier. The Aether was another world, the world beyond the dungeon where even more monstrous things lived. Where they hunted those foolish enough to step beyond the offered worlds of the dungeons and into the hellscape that was oblivion.

She returned to the portal. There, to the left of the portal, stood the oracle stone. Kiya pulled a purple and black stone from her pocket. She set it on the oracle stone. It glowed with brown and red energies. When the energies stopped surging into the stone, she retrieved it. The stone relayed to her general knowledge about the dungeon. Nothing groundbreaking, but this world was no longer foreign to her. It was just another place to explore, as though she had lived in this world her entire life but had only seen this place from a distance. She knew what the city above looked like, the time of day it should be, and the weather. She put her key stone back into her pocket just as Tyrana stepped through the portal.

Tyrana splashed down as Kiya had, but instead of surveying the area as extensively as the rogue, she instead turned to Kiya. “Anything in the area?”

“Bugs and frogs. Maybe some snakes up ahead. Sariel is going to lose her shit,” Kiya said. “Oracle’s right here.”

Tyrana walked up to the oracle and pulled her own key stone from her pocket. It was green and red. She set it down and let the oracle impart the familiarity of this world to her. When she picked up her stone, she, like Kiya, now felt that this dungeon world was no longer as foreign as it had been moments before.

Bellie was the next in. She was pissed that they had entered in a sewer. She voiced her opinion, cursed, and then took out her key stone. Hers was gold, solid gold. Neither Kiya nor Tyrana said anything. A key stone was rarely a single color. Neither of the two veteran dungeoneers had ever seen a key stone mixed with gold, let alone one that was solid gold. Bellie never spoke of how she got it.

Sariel was the next into the dungeon. She started screaming the moment her feet hit the water. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she started frantically moving to and fro as she tried to find somewhere above the water to stand. She kept screaming, cursing, and crying as she got louder and louder.

Kiya moved toward Sariel, but Tyrana stepped ahead of her as she removed the gauntlet from her right hand. Tyrana slapped Sariel across the face. Sariel froze and looked at Tyrana with surprise.

“Magus Vexwyn, get ahold of yourself. You are not some mewling child, and I will not treat you nor allow you to behave as such. You are the apprentice of Archmage Artaius Blackstorm. You are a Documancer and a Chronomancer. You are the official magus of Dark Sand. You will act like it! Now shut your mouth, stop your crying, key yourself to the dungeon, and stand ready. You may have given away our position,” Tyrana ordered.

Sariel looked at Tyrana’s bare hand. She had slapped her. Tyrana rarely used physical force to solve any noncombat situation, but she had just slapped her. Sariel touched her face where the blow had landed. Not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough so that the sting would last. Magus Vexwyn took a deep breath, immediately regretted it, then started coughing. Eventually, she apologized to Tyrana and did as she was told. Her key stone was white and lavender.

Tressa splashed onto the scene. She walked over to the group, completely unbothered by the muck and filth.

“Tressa, doesn’t this swamplike environment bother you?” Sariel asked.

“Nah. Just a big old pig pen to me,” she said.

“Come here, Baby Bull,” Tyrana said. Her motherly demeanor had returned, and everyone except for Tressa knew why. Tyrana guided the younger warrior to the oracle stone. “This is an oracle stone. They are usually found near the dungeon’s entrance, either outside of the portal in our world or inside the dungeon world, though usually inside. Put your hand on the stone.”

Tressa didn’t argue. She pursed her lips, shrugged, and put her hand on the oracle stone. Brown and red energies lanced through her. Tressa’s body jerked as red and brown light radiated from her body. Ethereal versions of Tressa at all ages, dressed in different armors and fineries and carrying various items and weapons, stepped from her body and vanished into the dungeon world. Then, in an instant, they all came surging back into her body. Tressa fell forward, but Tyrana caught her.

“Wha…what was…what was that?!” Tressa asked.

The oracle stone began to glow. The light radiating from the stone rose up and gathered before Tressa. It compressed and solidified into a brown and red stone that hung in the air before her.

“That was your awakening. Go on, take it,” Tyrana told her.

Tressa took the stone in her hand. It was the size of her palm. She looked to her left, then up. Her ears twitched. She looked at the calm faces around her and did not understand. She stood up and looked all around.

“Why do I feel like I know this place? Like I have been here before?” she asked.

“Because you are now attuned to this dungeon. It means that the most basic knowledge of this dungeon world is yours now. That stone, it’s your key stone. It’s the conduit between you and all dungeons. It’s yours! In every dungeon you enter after this, you are going to want to touch your key stone to every oracle stone you encounter. Don’t worry or panic if you ever lose it. Just come to the oracle stone of any dungeon, and it will resummon it to you. If it is destroyed, it will recreate it exactly as it was before. This is the symbol that you are officially a Dungeoneer, Tressa. Welcome!” Tyrana said. She hugged Tressa, then kissed her full on the lips.

“Congratulations, Tressa, you are officially part of the family business,” Kiya said. She pulled her down into a kiss.

“Here. A key stone pouch. I already enchanted it to seal itself once you place your key stone inside. I thought brown leather a good choice for you. I love you, Tressa, and I am so happy I could share this experience with you,” Sariel said. She placed the pouch in Tressa’s hand. Then she waited. Tressa caught on and knelt so that they could share a kiss.

Bellie wrapped her in a hug before she could stand up from kissing Sariel. She kissed her more deeply than the others and held her lips to Tressa’s as she said, “You and I are going to make so many stories! So many songs! This is your first performance, and girl, I am going to make sure the world knows about it!”

Tressa stood and stepped back. She looked around at all of them. Tears ran down her face. “Thank you. Thank you all. I just wish Artaius was here,” she said.

“We all do, Baby Bull. We all do. But he is with us in spirit. And remember that we are here for him. Now the time for sentiment is over,” Tyrana said. Then she turned from Tressa and started marching ahead through the filthy water, the bugs, and the toads. Her expression and tone changed as she said, “Dark Sand, form up! Kiya, scout ahead. I’m taking point. Tressa, bring up the rear. If you have your own buff spells, manage them. Bellie and Sariel, get us buffed and ready.”

Bellie began humming and snapping her fingers. She sang of climbing mountains and shooting stars. She and Sariel’s bodies began to glow with pink energy.

“Okay, Nerd, we are casting in stereo. Anything you cast on us is going to be twice as strong and last twice as long. Sorry, ladies, but I can only hit two with this spell,” Bellie told them.

“I borrowed a few of Artaius’s spells just for this,” Sariel said. She summoned a red spell array before her. She aligned the arcane symbols for the spell she wanted, and each of their bodies glowed with red energy. Then she summoned a blue array before repeating the process and effect. “Your senses are now heightened. Your reactionary speed is now increased.”

Bellie sang of rushing rivers, charging bulls, and hunting cats. She danced, bobbing her shoulders and rocking her hands before her. This time, pink energy overtook all of them.

“I amped up our endurance, strength, and agility. Kiya, I threw in a bit of stealth for you, not that you need it,” Bellie said as she blew Kiya a kiss.

“Can everyone see in the dark?” Sariel asked.

“Dragonborn can see in the dark at will, dwarves and minotaurs have darkvision, you have those glasses, and even if you didn’t, you’re an elf, you can see in the dark at will. I am the only one that can’t, and that’s what the goggles are for,” Kiya said as she pulled her goggles up along with her half mask. She stepped beyond the light of the portal. “Five-minute lead, then follow me.”

Kiya vanished into the darkness far down the corridor. Tyrana was already counting the seconds. The moment she reached three hundred seconds, she started forward, shield up, sword drawn and resting on her shoulder. Sariel followed her, staff at the ready. Bellie grooved behind Sariel, her motion weaving a spell to keep them focused. Tressa was in the rear, ready to rush forward on Tyrana’s signal.

They walked for ten minutes before the ground rose out of the murky water. Now a stream of water flowed back the way they had come. Four feet across and a foot deep, a stoneworked walkway sat to either side of the stream. Tyrana led them along the left-hand wall, in single file.

A body came floating down the stream. Tyrana stopped it with her tail. It was a humanoid. Its pointy head sported a face with a long snout. Its body was covered in short fur, and it had large ears, sharp teeth, claws, and a long, thin tail. These were the features of a rat man.

Blood stained the front of the creature’s shirt from two neat slits in the middle of its chest but flowed freely from beneath it. Tyrana flipped the body. Two identical holes were there. Kiya had run it through.

“Bellie, show Tressa what to do,” Tyrana said.

Bellie pulled Tressa down over the body. “Take out your stone,” Bellie told her.

Tressa pulled her brown and red stone from its new pouch. Bellie pulled out her golden one. Together, they held their stones over the corpse.

There, above both stones, text appeared. Tressa watched in wonder.

“Report,” Tyrana said.

“Read it, Cowgirl,” Bellie said as she nudged Tressa with her shoulder.

Tressa smiled and read the text aloud. “Ratkin Scavenger. Ratman. Fighter. Killed by Kiya Darkwalker,” Tressa read.

“You’re a novice. The more you practice analyzing dungeon beasts, especially living ones, the more information you will glean. That is, however, everything important about this corpse,” Sariel said.

Further up the tunnel, they found several more bodies with similar wounds. Some were slashes on the chest, while others had their throats cut.

Bellie picked over the corpses. Each had been looted for coin, but their gear was intact. They wouldn’t take anything nonmagical or that they couldn’t use. They would leave everything for Jasper’s excavation team. Bellie nodded to Tyrana, then fell back into line.

The four of them came to a large circular room. The two stone paths along the stream widened into open floor surrounding a large pool of stagnant water. Several columns of water fell from the ceiling into the pool.

There were dead ratmen scattered around the walkway. On the wall opposite the mouth of the stream was a stoneworked ladder. Kiya was there looting the last of the ratmen.

They started walking over to the far side of the room to join up with Kiya.

“Girl’s been busy,” Bellie said.

“Find anything worthwhile?” Tyrana asked.

“Nothing so far,” Kiya said. She stood up and checked her blades. “They can fight, but nothing we can’t—”

Water exploded from the pool. Muck and filth went all over the group. The rain of liquid filth had them covering their eyes and mouths, blocking the true danger.

Kiya was already moving, screaming over the cacophony of the displaced and crashing water. Even with her speed, she wasn’t going to clear the distance and power through the tide of water in time.

A giant maw lunged sideways at Tressa. Each of the teeth closing on her left and right were half her height. Blinded by the wave of filth, she never saw the jaws snapping closed around her.

But Tressa did feel Tyrana’s foot kick her hard in the chest. The paladin dropped into a slide, her right leg leading, her shield high. Then she turned and kicked Tressa out of the way. The teeth closed in around her, and she wedged her shield into the maw. The metal warped but held against the press.

The last of the displaced water fell around them, revealing Tyrana crouched with her shield holding back the press of the maw of a giant albino crocodile.

“Dewey, that is not in order!” Sariel whispered.

“Tyrana!” Kiya screamed as she charged in, unable to see her lover beyond the mouth of the monster.

Bellie’s eyes went wide as she took in the scene. “That thing’s the size of my bus!”

Tressa was working her way back to her feet. “Tarnation, that thing is big.”

“Ladies, if you aren’t too busy gawking, I would like to not be eaten by this thing!” Tyrana growled.

Kiya sprinted in with her swords at the ready. The crocodile saw her. It lifted and turned its massive head. Tyrana rotated her shoulder to maintain her grip on her shield, but now she was standing inside of the monster’s mouth. The crocodile swung its head around at Kiya.

The rogue saw the attack, saw her captain, and pushed down her relief. She leapt forward through the monster’s swinging jaws, passing behind Tyrana and slashing the monster’s gums with her swords.

The crocodile arched its head in pain as Kiya flipped free. Back with the group and with Tyrana occupied, Kiya took command.

“Bellie, give us a beat and heal Tyrana every chance you get! Sariel, armor up Tressa, then light this thing up! Tressa, with me. I hit it fast, you hit it hard, and don’t go in the water!” Kiya yelled.

“I can heal myself! Bellie, focus on the others and the fight!” Tyrana yelled.

Bellie’s guitar rolled into her hands, and she struck a chord of power that radiated across the party.

“YOU GOT IT, BIG MOMMY! MY OPENING NUMBER IS DARK RIVER NIGHT! LADIES, LET’S ROCK THIS CROC!” Bellie yelled.

She began playing while skipping back out of the monster’s range.

Sariel summoned a green array and sent two spells at Tressa. One hardened her skin and bones, while the other gave her an ethereal suit of invisible armor.

Kiya pulled what looked to be a bar of green soap from her alchemical pouch. She quickly ran it down the length of each of her swords. Then she charged in, angling for the crocodile’s foreleg.

Tressa charged in as she felt the new spells landing in her and Bellie’s song spurring her legs to move faster!

“Kiya, I fought a crocodile down in the swamp. Stay on its side and go for the belly or spine!” Tressa said.

Kiya was already striking the monster’s foot. It slammed its open maw down at her, but she darted under the blow and was on the other side of the crocodile, striking at its other leg, when its head crashed down. The wounds from her poisoned blades brought a purple-green color to its white scales.

The tip of Sariel’s staff began to glow as the arcane symbols of the spell she called forth flared to life. She angled it at the crocodile and loosed a bolt of bright orange fire. It struck the monster’s jaw. It singed the monster’s face. The spell had been more light than heat.

The crocodile surged forward, coming fully out of the water. It spun, sweeping its tail across the battlefield. Tressa dropped into a sidelong roll, letting the swinging tail pass over her. She pushed up to her feet once she was clear of the blow and leaned into her charge.

Sariel saw the tail coming. Her mind raced. She had cast defensive magic on Tressa and fired a bolt of flame. But she had forgotten her own magical defenses. She turned to run and got a few steps before the tip of the tail struck her and sent her flying across the room. Sariel hit the ground hard, skipping off the stone, dropping her staff, and finally sliding across the water-slick ground to a stop just a few feet from Bellie.

Bellie didn’t skip a beat. She kept singing her song as she wove healing magic into her voice. The strings on her guitar glowed with pink energy, and musical notes floated over to Sariel to dance above her and sprinkle healing magic onto her in the form of pink glitter.

Sariel was holding on to consciousness as Bellie’s magic eased her pain and repaired her wounds.

Kiya stabbed her blades into the crocodile and used them to begin climbing toward the creature’s back. Up she went to where the monster couldn’t strike out at her. Every stride upward left new poisoned wounds in the monster’s hide. Once she was atop the monster, Kiya began hacking and slashing with abandon. The more she cut into the beast, the more poison she put into its system.

Tressa leapt and brought her axe down on the monster’s hind leg. The ancient blade slashed into the monster and kept going. Propelled by Tressa’s strength, the fine edge parted the hide and muscle like it was a simple hay target meant to test an edge. The beast howled and kicked out at Tressa. The young warrior braced with her axe, accepted the blow, which knocked her back, and took another swipe as she skidded away.

She took one of its toes clean off.

The crocodile turned back to face the group once more and slammed its head down at Tressa. She leapt away. Her eyes saw Tyrana, crouched and holding fast to her shield. The paladin was stabbing at the roof of the giant crocodile’s mouth. The monster’s tongue pressed against her shield as it tried to dislodge her.

Tyrana was fighting. Kiya was atop the monster, striking like a madwoman. Bellie was singing about whirlpools under the moonlight. Sariel was sitting up. Tressa raised her axe and swung hard into the monster’s neck. She grazed it as the beast raised up.

The giant crocodile flung itself back into the pool. Again, the chamber was assailed with a wave of displaced water.

Thinking fast, Sariel threw up a magical barrier around herself and Bellie. Neither water nor sound could reach them, but Bellie’s voice still carried beyond the barrier. This spell was not for combat. It was a spell called Study Room. When the wave of water settled, Sariel surveyed the battlefield. Tressa was flat on the ground but working her way back to her feet. But where was Kiya? Tyrana was still in that beast’s mouth!

Sariel wiped blood from her forehead. “My performance is lacking. I need to focus. Checklist. Staff!”

She held out her hand, and her staff came flying from where the water had carried it. Then she called out to Tressa, “Stay crouched and do not move until the monster is visible. I am putting a barrier around you, and you will not be able to hear anything beyond it! Do you understand, Tressa?”

Tressa held her hand out and gave a thumbs up.

Sariel formed the barrier around her. Then she finally set her own defenses.

“Dewey, keep order and bring that monster back to the surface,” Sariel whispered.

As if it were a choreographed performance, Bellie sang of the dark river rushing across rocks and rapids as the pool exploded again. This time, the water wall rose high into the air as the massive crocodile leapt free of the pool. The water came down like a toppled wall. Had it not been for Sariel’s barriers, they would have been crushed to the ground by the press of the water.

Bellie didn’t stop singing, but her eyes went wide as she saw Kiya, swords stabbed deep into the monster’s back, holding on as it belly-flopped back to the ground. It landed half in and half out of the water. Another surge of water assailed them, but this one didn’t have the force of the last one, nor was it as obscuring as the previous ones.

Then the giant crocodile reared back. Its head jutted forward as it shot a torrent of water from its mouth. The spray crashed across their barriers. Again, Sariel’s barriers held.

Then Tyrana crashed off of Tressa’s barrier. She kept going, smacking off the barrier protecting Bellie and Sariel. Tyrana hit the wall, and the water kept coming. When the attack finally ended, the solid wall of stone was cratered and cracked. In the center of the broken area was Tyrana.

Tyrana coughed up water. The paladin lifted her head and pulled herself free from the broken wall. She dropped to the floor, bracing herself with her shield and sword. Then she coughed up more water as she pushed herself to her full height. Water fell free from the seams of her armor. Still coughing, Tyrana stepped forward.

Sariel dropped her Study Rooms.

“My hair is soaked! My everything is wet! Take it down, people! New purses all around!” Tyrana yelled as she broke into a full run. She stormed past Bellie and Sariel. This time, when the monster jutted out its maw, it met her shield rush. Tyrana smacked the monster’s head high to her left before plunging her sword into its thick neck.

Tressa was on Tyrana’s heels, growling as she rushed forward. The younger warrior raced past the opening Tyrana created and began tearing into the monster’s flank with her axe.

Sariel formed her triplicate spell, then began shooting off the same fiery bolt as earlier. However, this time each passed through the spell array, emerging as three identical bolts. The documancer peppered the monster’s face with her spell.

Kiya was up now, soaking wet and dripping water as she moved. The weight of her waterlogged gear slowed her down, but she didn’t relent as she began stabbing into the monster’s neck. “My fucking socks were wet to begin with, but now my fucking clothes are soaked!” she yelled as she laid into the monster.

The monster roared and thrashed. When it reared up, Kiya ran down its length, hacking and slashing. Tressa worked its flank with heavy blows from her axe. Bellie watched Sariel’s combination of spells burn into the monster’s skin.

The gigantic croc angled its head and bit down at Tressa. Tyrana rushed over and blocked the bite with her shield. She shoved her sword through the monster’s gum and pulled back. The serrated edge of the blade ripped through the beast’s mouth, spraying blood all around them.

The beast growled and tried to roll away. Kiya ran opposite the roll to remain atop the monster. Her blades never stopped striking as she ran. The crocodile came back to its feet and spun, bringing its tail to bear again.

Tyrana sprinted to meet the attack. She stopped ahead of Tressa, planted her feet, and positioned her shield. “I’ll stop it! You take it off!” Tyrana yelled.

Her eyes began to glow with golden light. Tyrana’s shield glowed with that same light. Her muscles swelled with power as she braced for the impact of the giant’s strike. The crocodile’s tail sounded like a gong when it hit her shield. She was pushed back, her claws digging furrows into the stone.

The blow was strong enough to have sent Sariel flying with a glance. Tyrana skidded back only a few feet as she held the strike at bay.

“Now, Tressa!” Tyrana commanded.

Tressa leapt at the crocodile’s tail, her axe high above her head. She swung down with all of her strength. Her blade cut through the armored scales, into the muscle, and kept going until her axe cut into the stone where it held fast.

“It’s stuck! Tyrana, my axe is stuck!” Tressa yelled.

The crocodile growled in rage as its tail fell free of its body. It snapped at Tressa again and again found Tyrana there shielding her. The paladin’s shield didn’t simply block the blow this time. She drove its top edge into the monster’s snout as she punched across. Before the beast could recover, Tyrana’s sword was cutting through the scales of its maw and into its mouth.

“Stop trying to bite her, I’m the main course! No sweets until you finish your dinner!” Tyrana taunted.

“Did it try to eat Tressa? Stop trying to eat my wives!” Kiya yelled as she finally cut down to the bone of the monster.

Kiya flipped both of the blades into reverse grip and plunged them down into the giant albino crocodile’s spine! The monster reared up, then collapsed onto its belly. A final growl escaped its maw, and the sound died away as the last verse of Bellie’s song echoed across the battlefield.

“Don’t worry, ladies, Daddy killed it,” Kiya said.

“She is just going to be insufferable about killing blows, isn’t she?” Sariel asked.

“It’s called big dick energy, Nerd! It’s what happens when you have the biggest dick in the dungeon!” Kiya laughed.