Grave Goods

	Valentin pulled his hood over his face, a futile attempt to shield himself from the blowing sand as he dragged his pack animal along behind him. Anastasia, his alpaca, was reluctant. She dug her feet into the dunes and tugged against the rope that bound her to her master.
	“Come on, we must be close now,” he mumbled to nobody in particular, scanning the horizon for the telltale pillars that his employer had described.
	Val had been down on his luck, drowning his sorrows in a dingy, smoky tavern and doing a miserable job of trying to pick up wenches. Work for a thief in the desert trading town should have been easy to find, there was always something that needed nicking, and always someone willing to drop a few coins to see it done. Not today though, or this week, or this month...
	He had been down to his last pocket of change when he had been approached by a masked stranger as he was sitting, or rather leaning indolently, at the bar as he swirled his cheap beverage. He would have found it unusual but the trading town saw all kinds of folk, human and otherwise, who trekked there to hock their wares. The mask had been ornate, like the kind the rich and well-to-do would wear to their parties and banquets in order to amuse themselves and play at anonymity. Its black surface was gilded with rich, swirling patterns of ivory and trimmed with fine gold leaf. Val had an eye for such things and remembered them, it was his profession, after all.
	The masked stranger had taken up a stool beside him, clad in a long, flowing cloak of black satin and gloved in the same manner. He was wealthy, that much had been evident, so what was he doing in that armpit of a tavern?
	Val had eyed him curiously through his drunken stupor, and the man had begun to talk.
	He had told him that was seeking the services of a treasure hunter in order to recover a relic of some value from an ancient ruin in the desert. Val had perked up at this. He was familiar with such relics, magical items from the distant past created by those who had come before, coveted by those with the means and power to obtain them. While Val's street-level work had never brought such a valuable object into his hands, he had always dreamed of one day appropriating one and living off the spoils.
	The masked man had dropped a pouch of coins heavily on the counter, thrusting it towards Val, whose eyes had widened as he picked it up in his hand and weighed it. The man explained that there was a ruin in the desert to the South West, perhaps four leagues from the walls of the town. The location would be marked by gigantic, crumbling pillars built from slabs of granite that no mortal man could have moved under his own power. Between the pillars would be an entrance to a sanctum, possibly covered by the sand and debris, yet easily accessible. Within this ancient sanctum the thief would find a relic of the distant past, a sculpture in the form of a woman, and that he must return it to the masked stranger as quickly as his feet could carry him. Upon receiving the relic, there would be triple the pay that filled this pouch.
	Oh, and it would be heavy, he should bring his pack mule. A mule Val did not possess, but his trusty Anastasia never wandered far from his sight and was as loyal and hardy as any war horse. She was being stubborn today however, and Val tugged at her leash as he led her through the sands, the burning sun beating down on their backs. Night never graced this region, as all men knew the sun was immovable in the sky, and one must travel a ways East or West in order to escape its harsh glare.
	In the distance he spied the pillars that his masked employer had described, three towers of crumbling rock that had been blasted by thousands of years of sand and wind, their former magnificence crumbling slowly as the sands devoured them. They were taller than any buildings in the town, and as the man had described, they were built from finely cut stone that formed blocks too large for man or beast to carry. They had surely been built with magic, as had been the style of the ancestral civilization whose ruins and relics were scattered around the world. Priests and scholars who professed to know such things claimed that the ancients had left our mortal realm, choosing instead to ascend to godhood and abandon their now unnecessary material possessions. Others claimed that they had been destroyed by some great cataclysm after having used up all of the magic in the world, and that their ruined monuments were testament to that fact.
	Val did not expect to ever find out, and all that seriously concerned him was what valuable treasures those ruins might contain. Most had been pillaged long ago, tomb raiders and scholars making off with their contents, it was a rare event to find an undisturbed ruin that might still hold secrets. He wondered what the properties of this lauded sculpture might be, perhaps it granted wishes or could shit gold, that would be nice. Val had only ever seen one such relic in person, a glass tube containing witchfire, a spectral flame that burned without heat and illuminated with the power of a hundred lanterns. Some relics were tools that served a purpose, others were more secretive and their powers had to be unlocked by priests. Still others were inert and pointless, decorations or trinkets that were not imbued with any magical properties.
	He reached his destination, trudging through the sand dunes as his alpaca struggled after him. Who cared what the damned relic did, his job was just to recover it and bring it back to the masked man. Coin would be his reward, and coin translated to whores and booze. They came to a stop beside one of the massive pillars, and Val tied Anastasia's leash around the nearest, patting her woolly neck.
	“Don't worry, there's an apple or two in it for you, as well.” Anastasia blinked her dark eyes under her fuzzy brow, stamping her feet in the sand. She didn't care much for the heat, but this shouldn't take long, and if the masked man had been right then Val would need her brawn.
	He walked to the center of the pillars, three towering over him in various stages of decay, and one foundation where a fourth pillar had collapsed completely. He sifted through the sand with his foot, looking for a door or some kind of opening that would permit him to enter the sanctum. He felt for the comforting bound leather handle of his dagger on his hip, he didn't expect trouble but these tombs were sometimes guarded by vengeful spirits or powerful magic spells intended to ward off intruders.
	His foot hit something metal, and he crouched to dig through the sand with his cupped hands. There, an iron ring embedded in a slab of stone. He stretched his arms, limbering up his joints, then wrapped his hands around it and heaved with all of his might. It was heavy, but it started to move, and sweat stung his eyes as he finally pulled it aside. He leaned hesitantly over the edge of the square opening, it was dark inside, but he saw steps. Good, he wouldn't need rope. He looked back to Anastasia who watched him curiously, then descended into the hole.

	It was surprisingly cool inside the sanctum, almost cave-like as Val stumbled down the steps and into the darkness that lay beyond. It smelled musty, ancient, as if the air had not been disturbed since its builders had sealed it off. His footsteps echoed on the smooth walls and ceiling, also made of stone, as finely polished as glass as he ran his fingers over them. Some sand and dirt had entered over the millennia, and now lined the floor with a layer of soft silt.
	As he proceeded deeper, the cold began to bite at him, it was such a stark contrast to the oppressive, dry heat of the desert above. He pulled a small lamp from his belt, opening the glass door with a creak and attempting to light the wick with a match. What he wouldn't give for some witchfire right about now...
	He succeeded on his third attempt, and the flickering, yellow glow of the lamp illuminated the hallway. The light was dull, casting long shadows, and Val worked his way forward cautiously as he followed the wall. There was a slight incline to the ground, taking him subtly deeper inside the sanctum. It felt like a tomb, there were inscriptions on the walls that he couldn't read, and as the passage wound ever downward he began to feel the earth pressing in on him from above. A cave-in would seal him down here, another spirit condemned to haunt these ruins for eternity.
	After what felt like far too much walking, he arrived in a larger space. The ceiling was domed, clearly very far below the surface, and part of it had caved in at the far end of the room. Specks of dust floated in his lamplight as he explored, it seemed as if there had been many pedestals here housing relics and decorations, but most had crumbled and their treasures were missing. He cursed his bad luck, he had been hoping he might be able to pocket one or two trinkets that his employer had failed to account for.
	He noticed something glinting in the light under the rubble of the collapsed ceiling, and made his way over. It was a humanoid leg, made of what looked like white gold, an alloy analogous to the color of pale skin yet clearly metallic in nature. The subtle curves of the calf and thigh suggested that it belonged to a woman, could this be the sculpture the masked man had sent him to recover? It was life-sized, and judging by its finery it was extremely valuable, it even had articulated toes. It seemed to have elaborately detailed jewelry sculpted into its body, an ankle bracelet with an intricate floral design and jeweled rings on some of the dainty digits. He had rarely seen anything so expertly wrought, but the pile of broken stone was discouraging. What if it had been smashed to pieces and this leg was the only part of it that was still intact? Would his employer still pay him for a broken statue?
	He began to pull away the stone, dragging the heavy blocks loose and trying to roll them off the pile. Luckily, due to the height they had fallen from, most had been shattered into manageable chunks. As he labored to uncover more of the mysterious sculpture, its midriff became visible, and he leaned down to brush the dust from its gleaming belly with his sleeve. Val had never seen such a sculpture before, it was so detailed that in the right light it could almost be mistaken for a real person, though with none of the imperfections that one might find therein. It had a slim, lightly muscled belly with a navel full of dust, and wide hips with visible pelvic bones. Even the thighs were subtly detailed with smooth muscle and fat that looked as if it would yield under his fingers, yet was solid metal. It had a smooth pubic mound that protruded attractively, though it seemed to lack any genitalia.
	It was so lifelike it was kind of making him hard. He chuckled to himself as he continued to excavate the relic.

	After a good hour of hauling away rocks, the relic was uncovered, or should he say 'she' was uncovered. She was built more like some kind of doll than something sculpted from stone or wood, her joints were articulated and it looked as if she were designed to be posed or moved around. She had an impressive set of breasts that matched her build, pert and perfectly shaped. He groped them, because why shouldn't he, and to his surprise found that they were malleable. He was able to squeeze them, and the sculpted nipples pricked his palms, he had never felt anything like it. They weren't as soft as real breasts, it felt more like soft gold, or some kind of molten metal that somehow remained cool to the touch. He tested other areas with probing fingers, and found other such pliant spots, located mostly where one might seek to enjoy a woman. Was this some kind of sex aid? His face reddened at the possibility, though he was still wary of the thing. For all he knew some spirit might inhabit it and it would spring to life, chasing him out of the sanctum.
	He understood why the masked man was willing to pay so much to get his hands on it though, oh yes.
	He appraised the pile of rubble, now fairly certain that he had freed her enough to try to move her. He leaned down and gripped her by the ankles, grunting with the strain as he pulled her free. God, she was heavy! Was she made of solid metal? No wonder the masked man had advised that he bring a pack animal, he would never have gotten this behemoth back to the town on his own.
	As her face came into view as he dragged her from under the rubble, he stopped to stare. She was not a perfect replica of a woman, rather some artistic liberties had been taken to accentuate her features and decorate her body. She had full lips and long lashes around her large eyes that looked like golden fibers. Her face was rounded with full cheeks, and she had a pointed chin and a straight nose. Her head was decorated with a mane of gleaming, wheat-colored hair made from fine strands of alloy that looked as if they should snap under the slightest stress, yet retained their shape even as he dragged her across the floor. Despite the dust and grime that caked her, she was stunning, beautiful even. No such woman had ever existed that had been birthed of flesh and bone, it was almost unearthly.
	She wore a decorative wreath around her forehead, or was it part of her forehead? There were amulets around her neck too, descending between her sculpted collarbone to rest above her ample bosom.
	He succeeded in freeing her, standing over her limp form and running his eyes over the curves of her figure. If he didn't need a visit to the brothel before, he certainly did now. The sooner he got this thing back to the masked man, the sooner he could blow his pay on the finest ale and the most unscrupulous whores this side of the desert.

	Val emerged from the hole panting, sweat stinging his eyes as he dragged the limp figure up the steps. He was assaulted by a wall of heat and almost doubled over, even in the cool confines of the sanctum it had been an effort to move her, now it was just intolerable. He dropped her onto the sand, sitting down heavily to take a breather. Anastasia chirped at him, stamping her feet.
	“Yeah yeah, we're about to leave, just let me catch my damned breath,” Val called to her.
	The sculpture twitched.
	Val leap to his feet, dagger drawn reflexively from its leather sheath as the thing began to shake as if it were having a seizure, metal limbs clanking and rattling. Anastasia bucked and brayed unhappily, straining against her bonds.
	Val looked on in horror as the sculpture seemed to calm, then slowly rise to its feet. Damn it, it must have been possessed by a spirit as he had feared, some vengeful ghost had brought it to life, imbued it with vengeful purpose. He shouldn't have felt it up! He doubted his dagger would do much against its metal body, but raised it defensively.
	The golden woman raised her hand to her face, touching her metal skin. She traced the line of her jaw with her fingertips, then examined her limb, flexing the articulated fingers. She turned her head to take in her surroundings, then saw Val. She scrutinized him with her azure eyes, they glowed blue like sapphires, as if someone had lit a lamp inside her hollow head.
	“When is this?” she asked, lips forming words as if they were fashioned from flesh and not alloy. Her voice was almost too perfect, unwavering and feminine. When? Why would she not ask 'where' she was? How long had this...entity, been here? She had a strange accent, as if she were pronouncing unfamiliar words.
	“What...are you,” Val asked in response. “Do you guard this sanctum?”
	“Sanctum..?”
	She seemed confused, disoriented. Perhaps this was not a spirit animating an inert doll, but some manner of magical golem?
	“Energy,” she sighed happily, turning her face to the sun, her skin reflecting the light like the surface of a lake. She basked, a warm smile spreading across her features. Her golden hair blew in the wind, and she stretched her arms above her head, locking the fingers and flexing. She must have been in there for untold thousands of years, but she reacted as if she had just awoken from a nap.
	She snapped her head back suddenly, eyes wide, staring at the sky. It alarmed Val, her movements were unnatural, unnerving. She became as still as a statue, as if she had frozen in place, staying that way for long enough that Val dared to inch a few steps closer to her. As he neared her and extended his shaking hand to brush against her skin, she came to life again, causing him to scurry backwards as Anastasia wailed unhappily.
	She fixed her gaze on him again, the blue light almost too intense to make eye contact with her.
	“I have communed with God. He has broken his long silence, and has chosen you as his herald.”
	“What?” Thief could barely formulate a reply. God? Which God? Why would any deity choose a whoremongering pickpocket as his herald?
	“I-I'm not...I'm just here for treasure,” he stammered. The woman looked him up and down, a distasteful expression on her chiseled features. “I was hired to take you back to the town.”
	She looked to the sky again, ignoring his objection.
	“Stellar drift indicates that five thousand four hundred years have passed, we must get to work, they are on their way.”
	“Stars? What? You can't see any stars in the desert. It's too bright.”
	She sighed and rolled her glowing eyes, seemingly frustrated with him.
	“I am His angel, I was trapped here, and you have freed me. God has spoken to me and has instructed me to help you on your quest. You are to journey to the frozen wastes and seek out a divine temple, wherein you will find a weapon that will save the world.”
	“Hang on, a quest? Don't I get a say in this?”
	“No, you do not.”
	Val raised his hands in a shrug, taking a few steps back.
	“Listen, I'm just here to do a job, ok? If you could just...stop possessing that statue, or whatever it is that you're doing, I can return it for the reward and be on my way. I've not interest in Gods or quests.”
	“A reward? Why?” The metal woman looked herself over, examining her body as if she were unfamiliar with it. She ran her articulated fingers over the subtle curves, pausing to test the softness of one of her pert breasts. Her face contorted into an expression of disgust. “Ugh, typical. It's just my luck to get downloaded into a pleasure model.”
	Val looked at her in confusion, but she did not deign to elaborate. She turned her attention back to him, hands planted firmly on her wide hips.
	“Listen to me, vagrant, and listen well.” Val scowled at her, he was no vagrant, but feared to interrupt her. “There is an evil coming, an ancient and terrible enemy of your ancestors, sworn to seek out and destroy their descendants to the last man. In awakening this vessel you have allowed God to speak through me, I am his angel, sent down from heaven to carry out His word. Long have we awaited such an opportunity.”
	A spirit from heaven then? Sent down by a God to possess this statue and give it life? Such things were not outlandish, he had heard fanciful stories and legends of the Gods interfering in the affairs of mortal men.
	“Why me?” Val asked, skeptical. “Why would a God choose me of all people to be his herald?”
	“We need to act quickly, and you were in the right place at the right time. Besides, you freed this vessel, did you not? You should be resourceful enough to accomplish the task. If you refuse, I will have to go in search of someone else, and in doing so put myself at risk of being captured and sold. As I understand it, relics of the...old regime are highly valued by the current civilization?”
	He considered for a moment. It was true, if she were to walk into the town without a guide she would be snatched within minutes, walking talking relics were not commonplace. Especially ones so attractive. She would either end up as the most expensive slave girl the world had ever seen, or on the arm of some obscenely rich scholar. Besides, maybe he could turn this to his advantage somehow, free room and board for the herald of a new God? Drinks on the house for God's messiah?
	“If you couldn't find anyone else, what would happen?”
	“The world would end.”
	Well, he couldn't enjoy his reward money if all the whores and bartenders were dead, could he? He sighed, brushing sand from his cloak.
	“Fine, doesn't look like I have a choice. I'll do it.”
	The woman seemed relieved, relaxing her metal body.
	“Good, then we can get started. We still have a little time at least, we must head West.”
	“No, we need to go back to the town first, I need my gear, supplies, food, we can't set out empty handed. I didn't bring enough with me to last us more than a few leagues.”
	“It is not safe for me in population centers, I'll be seen from a mile away.”
	“What's a mile?” Val shook his head dismissively. “Listen, just do as I say and you'll be fine, here,” he started to remove his cloak, shrugging the long, flowing garment off his shoulders and walking over to where the woman was stood. He wrapped it around her, tying the clasp at the front and draping the long hood over her head. “As long as you stay out of sight, nobody will look twice at you.”
	  She seemed relieved to be covered up, perhaps the nakedness of her vessel offended her sensibilities? She was an angel after all, a divine being if she was to be believed, and he saw no reason to doubt her. She pulled the black cloak closed at the front, concealing her body entirely besides a few strands of metallic, golden hair that peeked out from beneath the hood. It cast a shadow over her face, her blue eyes glowing within the darkness.
	“Very well, but do it quickly. Every day we spend idle is another day the enemy advances without opposition.”
	Val walked over to Anastasia, untying her from the ruined pillar.
	“Follow me, I know the way back.”

	They marched through the dunes, the winds blasting them with airborne sand. Anastasia loved to roll in dust, seemingly unconcerned by the gale, but without his cloak Val had to shield himself with his arms. The angel was impervious to heat or weather it appeared, and he started to regret giving her the cloak before they were in sight of the town walls. Her oddly heavy body sunk her deep into the sand with each step, but she seemed completely tireless, and simply powered through.
	By the time they reached the more temperate region at the edge of the dune sea where the town was located, Val was dripping with sweat and breathing heavily, the back of his neck and his arms burned pink by the sun. The metal woman might as well have been in a cool river, she looked no different than when they had set out. She pulled the cloak tighter as the high walls of the town came into view, dancing like a mirage in the heat haze.
	“This is a bad idea, I could just wait here until you return.”
	“It's fine,” Val panted, tightening his grip on Anastasia's lead as she trotted behind him. “Nobody will notice you, and it won't take long. Just stay close to me and do as I say, I know this town like the back of my hand.”
	“Are those bowmen on the walls? Has civilization really regressed this far in my absence?”
	“You can see the sentries from here?” Val was shocked, he had exceptionally good vision, better than pretty much anyone he had ever met, yet the town was still the size of his thumbnail at this distance. Anastasia gurgled happily, she must have recognized where they were going. Val lagged back a little to pat her woolly neck.
	“That's right Annie, we'll be back soon. A fresh trough of water and an apple for you, I promise.” The angel gave him a sideways glance with her glowing eyes.
	“Why do you have that thing? Wouldn't a horse be better? You still have horses, right?”
	“Horses are stupid and ugly, they eat more and require more maintenance than an alpaca. Anastasia is my best and most loyal friend and I'll hear nothing against her.” For the first time the angel's shiny lips curled into a smirk, which she quickly dispelled. She didn't seem to disapprove, in any case. “So...I have to ask, what can you tell me about God? Is there only one? Did he make the world?”
	“Not in the way you imagine, no, but he protects it. There is only one, at least there is only one left.”
	She frustrated him, every question he asked her just resulted in answers that begged more questions, it was like she didn't want to give him anything straight. There was more to her and this 'God' than she was willing to reveal to him, but maybe he could draw it out of her in time. Right now she seemed to be preoccupied with her mission.
	They walked in silence for a while until they reached the gates of the town, crowded with traders and beggars. The sentries paid them no mind, their job was to keep a look out for the savage animals that sometimes emerged from the deserts, not to vet new visitors. Val led Annie and the angel through the throngs of people, stepping over wandering vagrants and dodging toothless pan handlers clad in filthy rags, rattling cups full of change. The town was the central hub for trading in the region, and caravans arrived here from all corners of the world to sell their wares. It was the last real settlement between the cities of the West and the East that bridged the band of desert that ringed the world.
	They made their way into the town proper, the yellow sun that beat down perpetually on its inhabitants bleaching the flagstones and market stalls a dull yellow. Stalls shielded by brightly colored canvass lined the long streets, their criers declaring their wares loudly as traders and shoppers milled about, examining the goods and haggling. The more established businesses owned stone buildings from which elaborate signs hung on chains, swaying with the hot breeze.
	They moved through the bustling crowds, Val making a beeline for the tavern he had been staying at. He still had the masked man's pouch of coins after all, and while he now had no intention of turning over the angel to him, he still intended to spend it. He'd pick up his gear, pay off his bill, maybe get a couple of drinks in him and a night at the brothel before they set out again. Nobody had noticed the angel beneath the cloak so far, and there was no reason to think that he would encounter the masked man just yet. In and out quick like, it should be fine. Sure it was a bit of a risk, but he wasn't about to leave the only civilization for leagues with an empty belly and full balls when he had a pocket full of coin for the first time in months.
	He tied Anastasia to a post outside the tavern and she plunged her head into the drinking trough, then the angel followed him through the door. The smell of tobacco wafted through the smoky air as they approached the counter, tables occupied by workers and traders in all shapes and sizes filled the room, it was dark inside with the only light coming from the dull oil lamps and through the dirty window panes. Val scanned the bar, there was nobody he recognized, he couldn't see the masked man or anyone he might owe money to. Besides the mustached bartender of course, who eyed him suspiciously as he dried a pint glass with a rag. He set it down heavily on the counter and leaned over to speak to him in his gruff voice. He was a portly man, bespectacled, but heavily muscled and obviously not a stranger to chasing down late payments.
	“Back so soon from your little venture, Val? I've not seen that client of yours around, if you're looking for him.” Val withdrew the pouch of coins from his pocket and dropped it onto the bar with a heavy clunk.
	“It's all squared away, just give me a couple of drinks and some supplies for the road, then I'll pay off my tab.” The bar tender adjusted his spectacles, eyes wide.
	“Looks like it all worked out for you then, can't say you deserve it. Alright, what'll it be?”
	The angel nudged Val with her elbow, and leaned closer to whisper in his ear, trying her best to avoid revealing herself under her disguise.
	“Seriously, you're drinking,” she hissed, “at a time like this? We have to get moving, the fate of the world is at stake! We don't have the time!”
	“You said we still had some time,” he replied, leaning back and talking behind his hand. “I've been trekking through the damned desert all day, I need rest. We'll set off after I've had some food and a sleep.”
	“Some food and a-!?” She struggled to control the volume of her voice, obviously seething. “Unbelievable, there's a threat approaching that means to end the world and you're more concerned with...” She trailed off, realizing that the bar keeper was looking at her.
	“Who's your friend, Val?”
	“Just someone I met today, she'll be using my room for a sleep cycle, I'll pay in advance. I have to be somewhere later.” He handed over a few coins and took the room key he was handed, then led the angel up the rickety wooden steps to the second floor above the bar. They stopped at a door with the number that matched the label on the brass key, and she turned to scold him.
	“What in God's name are you doing? We need to leave, as soon as possible.”
	“Calm down, it won't take long. You'll be safe here, nobody will disturb you. Take this key, lock the door, and only open it when you hear my voice. I have some things to take care of, I'll be back in a short while.”
	“What could possibly be more important than saving the world?”
	“Well I've gone a month without enough coin for a visit to the brothel, so unless you're willing to take care of that problem...” He grinned at her and she fumed, snatching the key from his hand and turning to push the door open.
	“God has chosen poorly,” she snarled, and slammed the door in his face.

	The masked man stood on a pulpit in a large, stone room lit by flickering candles. The roof was domed, the scuffing of shoes and the murmuring of hushed voices echoed through the space as the  Alizari stood to attention. They wore robes of deepest red embroidered with gold trim, and their long hoods shadowed their faces as they prepared to hear the words of their leader. The masked man's voice boomed through the hall as he addressed the crowd of hundreds.
	“The time is almost upon us, brothers! Soon the aspect of the Goddess shall be delivered to us, and our holy rite of new birth can begin anew. As the ancient texts of our order record, every one hundred years an aspect of the Goddess is revealed to us, bringing with it a wealth of ancient secrets and powerful magics that serve to further our influence and power! It is through these gracious gifts of the Goddess that we have risen to such prominence among the peoples of this world.” He slammed his gloved fist on the pulpit, the wood creaking beneath it as his followers listened with bated breath. “We are the Alizari! The most devoted and pure of the Goddess cult, and it is only through our diligence and devotion that this world can be steered towards the course most holy, absolute devotion to the Mother of Secrets.”
	The robed men cheered and raised their fists in the air as the masked man continued.
	“Our cult reaches to every corner of the known world, our prayers are on the lips of kings and regents from the ice band to the desert sands, but only the order of the Alizari know the truth. Only we carry the secret knowledge, and like our Mother Goddess before us we dispense it as we see fit, so as best to serve mankind.”
	He smiled behind his mask as the throngs of militants called out prayers and blessings, with this army under his command no relic was beyond his reach. The cult had spread like a plague, driven partially by very real miracles performed using gathered relics and arcane knowledge from the library. With this new manifestation of the Goddess appearing, a fresh deluge of arcane knowledge should be at hand, he just had to hope that this thief he had employed to bring it to him was discreet. This knowledge was for the eyes of the order only, and they didn't want to draw attention to their order by making an unexplained public appearance. At least not unless there was some kind of emergency.

	Val pushed through the crowd of traders that blocked the dusty streets, making his way to his favorite establishment besides the tavern. The brothel's wooden sign swung on chains in the wind, creaking as its painted figures consorted. He pushed through the doors eagerly, his coins heavy in his pocket, and entered a dingy room. There was the scent of smoking, both tobacco and opium, clouds of it hung in the air in a grey haze that stung Val's nose as he made his way towards the counter at the end of the room. He was surrounded by scantily clad women, corsets, stockings and all manner of provocative clothing adorning their partially exposed bodies. They lounged on couches and chaise longues, elaborately upholstered in red velvet, most nursing drinks in glass flutes or taking drags from long pipes as they watched him pass by.
	He arrived at the wooden counter, and a fat woman with a beehive haircut turned to greet him, her brassiere pushing up a pair of monstrous breasts that wobbled as she moved. She recognized him, a scowl crossing her wrinkled face.
	“There's no charity here, Val. If you don't have coin, you'd better be on your way.” He smirked and drew the pouch of coins from his pocket, slamming it down on the counter. The Madame's lips curled into a smile, caked with red lipstick as they were, and she handed him a booklet. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Valentin has the means to pay his debts, did you rob someone or is this some favor from the Gods?”
	“You could say that,” he grinned, taking the booklet from her and opening its cover. He leafed through the pages, it was a ledger of all the workers at the brothel, their services and characteristics listed like a menu in a restaurant. His heart fluttered with excitement as he went down the list. There were women of all shapes and sizes, all colors and specialties, blonde, brunette, redhead, pale, dusky, he could take his pick. He licked his chops like a hungry wolf as he came to the end of the list, and the Madame leaned over to look at the ledger, her mammoth breasts almost spilling from her clothing.
	“See something you like, Val?”
	“You didn't tell me you had a new boy, a knife ear at that.”
	“I didn't know you swung that way, Val. Learn something new every day.”
	“I'm like the wind,” he replied, “you can't tell which direction I'll be blowing.”
	“Very well,” she said, taking the book from his hands and stowing it beneath the counter. “If that's what you desire then you shall have him, but if you run out on the payment I'll set my cousins on you again. I think you'll remember them from the last time you tried to stiff me.”
	“It's all square, you can see the money for yourself.”
	“Be that as it may, trying to get you to pay up on time is like trying to catch smoke in a net.” She called across the room, and a figure rose from its seat on one of the couches, sauntering over to them. As he came into view through the haze and the gloom, his features jumped out at Val.
	He was youthful and short, with a slim build, but he looked soft in the right places. He was wearing a green tunic with gold trim that was open wide at the collar to expose his delicate neck and smooth chest, the hem ending at his upper thighs like a skirt to display his pale legs. His shoulders were narrow, hips wide, and his skin had the sheen of porcelain to it. His face was rounded with soft cheeks, flushed with a pink glow, and his full, red lips pouted as if he were unhappy at being summoned. He had a mop of straight, light brown hair and hazel eyes. His most prominent feature was his long, sharp ears. He was of Elven descent, that much was obvious at a glance, and Val reveled in his luck. It was rare to find their people this far East, their beauty and grace was renowned, and even their men rivaled the appeal of most common women. He stood barely at chest height to Val, staring up at him with fierce eyes. Elves had a reputation as being passive and pliant, but this one looked about ready to fight him. Good, that was more interesting.
	“This is Telaim,” the Madame said, waving her hand at the Elf boy. “He will be happy to see to your every need, won't you Telaim?” The Elf exaggerated his pout as he looked Val up and down, crossing his arms.
	“He looks shifty,” he complained, his voice smoky and feminine.
	“Valentin is most certainly shifty,” the Madame answered, then her tone turned more stern. “Now do as you're told, if you don't like your clientele there's always the streets, where I suspect you'll have far fewer opportunities to be picky. I'm sorry, he's new here,” she added, turning back to Val who shrugged and laughed.
	“It's fine, I like 'em feisty. I want all the extras too, incense, the best room, the works.”
	“As you wish. He's small, but he's tougher than he looks, don't be afraid to be rough with him. In fact, he seems to like that.” She leaned past Val and dropped a key into the young Elf's outstretched hand. “Room twelve, you have him for two hours.”
	Telaim shot Val a disparaging glance, then gestured for him to follow him up to the second floor. They mounted the creaking staircase, the steps padded with deep red carpet and the wooden banister decorated with intricate carvings of flowers and coiling serpents. They passed a few closed doors before they reached their own, the muffled sounds of fornication leaking through the walls. Telaim turned the key in the lock and opened it, ushering Val inside and closing it behind them.
	Val looked around the room, it was dingy, with only a dim oil lamp illuminating the space, hanging from a hook in the ceiling. There was a dresser, a couple of bedside tables and a windowsill which were all piled with wax candles and sticks of incense. Telaim made his way around the room, striking a match and lighting them one by one, then sat on the edge of the bed as the sweet aroma of vanilla wafted through the air. The bed was large, big enough for three or even four people. The sheets looked to be made of silk or some analogous material, and it was scattered with soft cushions, surrounded by an embroidered curtain that could be pulled closed for privacy. There were so many shades of red, ranging from flowery pink to deep, arterial crimson, but it was appropriate.
	Telaim sat on the edge of the bed, his legs crossed beneath his skirt-like tunic. Val ran his eyes over the Elf's figure, his bulge growing beneath his leather trousers in anticipation. Telaim noticed where his eyes were wandering, and ran his slim, delicate fingers along his inner thigh, pressing into the smooth flesh as if to demonstrate its softness. He hiked the tunic up a little, showing more skin, and smirked as Val stared covetously.
	“You've paid for me, you can have me any way you like,” the Elf breathed, his voice low and sultry. He raised a free hand to his collar, and pulled his tunic down to expose one shoulder. He waited as Val's eyes lingered, teasing him, then slid down the second. He shrugged off the upper portion of his tunic, letting it fall around his waist in a heap, exposing his flat belly and his pink nipples. They were puffy, already hard, and he tweaked one between his thumb and forefinger. He might have a sour attitude, but he knew well how to titillate. Already frustrated after weeks of having to take care of his own needs, Val was practically steaming at the ears, his raging erection straining against his clothing like a hungry dog biting at the bars of its cage.
	The Elf stood, and his clothing sloughed off his nubile body to fall in a heap around his ankles. He stepped free of them, nude besides the white cotton underwear that concealed his subtle bulge. He turned to show his toned butt, ample and girlish, and looked over his shoulder to watch Val as he followed the curve of his back with his eyes.
	Enough of this, he only had the Elf for a couple of hours and he wanted to enjoy him to the fullest. He strode forward towards the bed, wrapping one arm around the boy's belly and catching his jaw in the second. Telaim took a sharp breath, but it was a pleasant surprise, and he bit his lip as he felt Val's course, thick fingers on his body. The sensation of the Elf's tender, naked flesh pressing against his leather clothing drove Val to distraction, and he leaned down to nuzzle his quarry's neck. He smelled of wood or nuts, a sweet fragrance that enticed the senses and set Val's mouth watering. He slid his hand down from Telaim's neck to his chest, his skin as smooth as the porcelain it so resembled, and groped roughly. The Elf squirmed under his grip, grinding his soft ass against the bulge that protruded from Val's pants, his breathing growing ragged as the larger man kneaded. He had a soft chest, inviting, and Val took satisfaction in cruelly pinching the stiff, rosy nipples.
	His second hand slipped beneath Telaim's cotton underwear, gripping his hardening bulge in his fingers, minute compared to Val's own vascular organ that threatened to tear through his clothes. He jumped as he felt the Elf's slim fingers glance his erection through his trousers, caressing it as he gazed up and back with his hazel eyes, due to their difference in stature.
	“You're so big and strong, Mister Valentin,” Telaim croaked in his breathy voice. “Whatever are you going to do with me?” The Elf was putting on a show, taking the piss, but it turned Val on all the same. He hooked his thumb over Telaim's waistband and pulled his underwear loose, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. “Oh my...straight to the point,” Telaim said, putting a hand to his mouth in an exaggerated gesture of feminine surprise.
	Val ran his hands up and down the Elf's body, as if he were trying to sample the texture of every inch of his glass-smooth skin, making him squirm and writhe under his calloused touch. Telaim had such an inviting figure. Creamy, polished skin that begged to be caressed, growing feverishly hot as his cheeks and chest flushed red. He was slim and lithe, but fat clung to his hips, thighs, butt and chest in a way that drove Val to sink his fingers deep into the Elf's flesh.
	“Stop, I'm ticklish!” Telaim complained, laughing as Val traced the dimple of his spine with his finger. He caught the Elf boy's long, pointed ear in his mouth and bit it, not so hard as to hurt, but enough to assert himself. A genuine moan of appreciation escaped Telaim's full lips, and his knees weakened, almost buckling as Val kept him upright in his arms.
	“Madame should keep her damned mouth shut,” the Elf complained, twitching as Val chewed softly and gripping handfuls of his clothing as if he were afraid he might fall over. Val grabbed a fistful of his silky, brown hair and tugged his head back sharply to expose his slender neck, which he pressed his teeth into. Telaim grunted, shivering as Val dragged his tongue across his skin, incisors pricking his neck and shoulder as he mouthed.
	The Elf was hard as a rock now, a droplet of precum welling at the tip of his small member. He really did like this kind of treatment, Val would be having a lot of fun with this one.
	“Hold on,” the Elf whispered, “you paid for all the extras, I've got something you'll enjoy.” Val released him from his grip reluctantly, but took the opportunity to watch his hips and butt roll as he walked across the room to the dresser. He opened one of the drawers and rifled through it, returning to the foot of the bed with an amber jar. He sat on the mattress, now at crotch height to Val, and twisted the lid open with some difficulty.
	“If you're so interested in how I taste, you shouldn't overlook the garnish.”
	He upended the jar, and a thick blob of viscous, amber liquid oozed forth. It landed on his chest, rolling down his skin in a sticky, slow stream. It was honey, Val realized. The Elf rubbed it on his chest and belly, spreading it across his nipples as it clung to his hand in strands. He let more of it fall between his thighs, rubbing them together then parting his legs to let the thick strings of it hang. Val felt his erection throb beneath his trousers as Telaim looked up at him with his doe eyes, sucking some of the residue from his slim fingers in an exaggerated display, his tongue escaping to clean his pink lips.
	“I'm all sticky,” Telaim complained, another exaggerated pout on his expression. “Help clean me up.”
	Val snorted like an angry bull, looming over him and pinning his wrists to the silken sheets. Telaim gasped in mock surprise, then was muffled as Val pressed his tongue into the Elf's mouth. He tasted delicious, the familiar tang of copper saliva mixing with the sweet, earthy honey as he delivered a deep, probing kiss. Telaim went quiet, and Val released his wrists to instead grip his cheeks in his hand, keeping the Elf's head straight as he ravished him. Telaim's delicate fingers reached up to stroke Val's face, his course stubble scratching his skin. He played his tongue over the forceful organ that was invading his head, glancing it with delicate swipes, teasing. The man smelled like a tavern, there was ale on his breath and smoke in his clothes, but he was so dominating...so masculine. Telaim cursed his involuntary attraction to the brute, but this was exactly how he liked it, rough and dirty. He might actually enjoy this after all.
	Val broke away with a wet pop, a string of saliva linking their lips, then plunged his face into the nape of the Elf's neck. He bit and mouthed as Telaim squirmed under him, then moved down his chest, licking up some honey that had pooled in his clavicle. Telaim gasped as Val's wet, hot tongue found a nipple, circling it slowly to lap up the sweet nectar that clung to his skin. He trapped the hard nub of flesh between his lips and his teeth, flicking his tongue across it and chewing gently. Telaim bucked and writhed, but Val held him down, his large hands almost wrapping the Elf's ribcage.
	He moved down to his belly, scraping the honey from Telaim's velvet skin with his lips, pushing his tongue into the Elf's navel. The boy groaned, rolling his hips as Val crawled down his body, finally reaching his legs. Val felt the Elf's hands rest on his head as he pinched his creamy thighs between his lips, planting sucking kisses and probing the pliant fat with his fingers. Telaim shivered and covered his beet red face with his hands, peeking between his digits to watch his client as his member dripped a string of clear fluid onto his now clean belly.
	   This was bad, he shouldn't let himself get so carried away. He was a professional who was supposed to be providing a service after all. He sat up abruptly, and Val raised his eyes to watch the Elf as he tried to compose himself, chest heaving and cock twitching as it leaked with excitement.
	“Your turn,” he said, pressing a gentle hand on Val's chest and urging him into a standing position. He unhooked the man's belt deftly with his slim fingers, opening his fly and reaching inside to grip his shaft. It was large and fat, he could barely get his damned fingers around it, and it was so hot that it almost burned to touch it. He pulled it free, letting it drop heavily to bounce in the air in time with Val's heartbeat, an inch from his nose. Val's masculine musk washed over him, and he stared at the ugly, vascular organ as it jumped, his mouth beginning to feel oddly empty.
	“Take off your clothes, unless you want to get covered in honey,” Telaim said, picking up the jar of amber fluid again. Val complied, hastily struggling free of his clothing. He slipped off his boots and dropped his pants, took off his cloak, then pulled his undershirt over his head. The Elf bit his lip as he watched Val struggle to free himself with his arms stretched above his head. His skin was tanned a shade of light toffee, he had clearly spent a lot of time working outside, and it was peppered with scars and imperfections. Evidence of a great many fights for certain. He had a thin layer of dark hair covering his pronounced abdominal muscles, flexing and twisting as he finally succeeded in freeing his head from his shirt.
	Telaim held Val's cock in his smooth palm, weighing the swollen organ as it pulsed and twitched like a second heart. It was ugly and vulgar, fat and solid, he wanted it. He drizzled honey along its length, letting it drip in thick strands to coat the brutish thing. His mouth began to water in earnest as the amber liquid oozed down its length, glazing it, droplets of it hanging from the tip. He drew closer, catching one of the falling droplets on his pink tongue, and watched Val's member pulse in response.
	Telaim started at the base, sliding his soft tongue up Val's shaft and pausing to tease the sensitive underside of his glans. He sucked the head into his warm mouth, worming his tongue under Val's foreskin and sucking it clean of honey, circling the tender flesh with the tip. Val's knees weakened as the Elf painted his glans with his little tongue, teasing and flicking, looking up at him with his big brown eyes. He crawled his lips down Val's shaft, struggling to take more of him into his mouth, the smooth inner flesh of his cheeks closing around the tip. The inside of the Elf's mouth was so warm and slippery, strands of saliva escaping his lips as they wrapped around Val's member, and his agile tongue darted around trying to lap up the sweet honey. He rested a heavy hand in the boy's silky hair, grunting as he felt his glans press into the back of Telaim's tight throat. He looked up at Val with watering eyes and labored to take him deeper into his gullet, the muscles of his smooth walls contracting and massaging as he tried to swallow.
	Telaim held it as long as he could, feeling Val's member expand and flex deep in his throat, Val jumped as he felt the Elf's dainty fingers sneak up to stroke and tickle his balls. He cradled them in his soft palm, running his fingers over the sensitive skin, and Val shivered with pleasure as he felt Telaim begin to choke as his muscles attempted to reject the foreign object. He considered gripping the boy by the hair and forcing him to hold it until he gagged, but the Elf was doing an admirable job thus far, and that might have been too cruel.
	His spasming muscles milked Val's cock, his saliva pooling in copious amounts that coated Val's length in warm spit. When he finally withdrew, a mess of thick, viscous drool sloughed from his mouth, dripping onto his chest and sliding down his nubile body. He coughed, looking up at Val with watery eyes, a strand connecting his puffy lips with Val's member. It sagged and broke, dripping to the bed, and Telaim leaned in again to lick up the remaining honey. He dragged his hot tongue along Val's shaft, seeking out every sticky drop of the amber liquid, pursing his lips to suck and mouthe as Val's organ throbbed in his grip. He traced Val's veins with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the way he jerked and shuddered, using the saliva as a lubricant to stroke the organ.
	Telaim realized he was a sticky mess, strands of honey and saliva coated his chest, seeping down to his belly. He ran a finger through the mixture, ensuring that Val was watching as he brought it to his lips and curled his tongue around it.
	Val's nostrils flared and he took a handful of the Elf's soft hair in his fist, sending a shiver of pleasure and surprise down Telaim's spine. The young Elf seethed with arousal, he was getting into this, perhaps too into this for his own good. If there was one thing that made him as putty in the hands of his clients it was having them tug at his carefully maintained hair, something about feeling the twinge of a rough client pulling at it made his heart quicken and his insides feel empty. He wanted to lie on his belly and raise his butt, demand that Valentin bury this ugly member up to the hilt and take his hair like the reins of a horse, but that wasn't how things were done in this business. The needs and desires of the client came first, and so Telaim reluctantly restrained himself and allowed Val to pull his mouth back onto his cock. It seemed he was done with the entrée and now wanted the main course.
	He thrust into Telaim's mouth, using his grip in his hair to bob the Elf's head on his cock. The Elf let his tongue hang free, sliding up and down the underside of Val's member, eyes watering as he endured the callous treatment. Val pushed deep into this throat, feeling the Elf's lips wrap around the base of his member as he grazed his esophagus, the muscles of his gullet tightening and spasming, wringing him as Telaim's body tried to reject his intrusion and his saliva bubbled from the corners of his mouth to hang from his chin.
	Val increased his pace, slamming the back of the boy's throat and making him gurgle, struggling to control his gag reflex as he fucked his face. He placed both hands on the back of his head, forcing his member as deep as it could as the Elf twitched and swallowed, his hands resting on Val's thighs. He drew back and another mouthful of stringy saliva fell from Telaim's pink lips to coat his chest. He gripped the man's cock before he could suffocate him again, running his agile fingers up and down the shaft, sucking the head into his mouth and nursing on it. He fluttered his long eyelashes at Val, looking up at him as he caught his breath and painted the glans with his tongue.
	Val pushed him down to the bed, flipping him over onto his belly and gripping a handful of Telaim's pliant ass in his fingers. He squeezed the soft flesh, feeling it yield under his grip, and the Elf couldn't help but sigh in anticipation as he raised his rear into the air. He offered himself to Val, his member leaking a clear string of fluid in anticipation of their coupling. Val's brutish member slapped between his smooth cheeks, and the Elf felt the heat of it sear his skin as Val kneaded his butt. He pulled his cheeks apart, pressing the head of his still slippery cock against Telaim's bud, who gasped at the sensation. He arched his back and looked over his shoulder at Val, his gaze lascivious.
	“Be rough with me...”
	Val sunk his fingers into his hair, pulling his head back as the Elf giggled gleefully, yearning to feel that heat inside him.
	There was a commotion downstairs, and Val halted as he heard cries of surprise and anger, it almost sounded like a fight. He heard the shrill cry of an enraged woman, the Madame?
	“What are you waiting for? Fuck me like I deserve it,” Telaim complained, shooting him an annoyed look. Val began to scramble to retrieve his gear and clothing as he heard footsteps on the stairs, the banister creaking as what sounded like half a dozen men mounted the steps. There was a pounding at the door as someone slammed their fist against it.
	“We know you're in there Valentin,” a gruff male voice shouted. “Open up, or we'll come through after you.”
	Telaim scowled at him.
	“I knew your were shifty, and I didn't even get my rocks off. Damn it. Hey, you'd better pay up, give me your damned coin pouch!” The Elf lunged at him as he struggled to pull one leg of his pants on, his still engorged erection getting in the way. He stumbled as Telaim thrust one of his small hands into a pocket, still covered in saliva and honey. Finding no coin, the Elf slipped off the bed and made for Val's cloak, which was heaped on the floor.
	“Open up Valentin! You have something that belongs to us!” The hammering on the door became a slamming, they were trying to break it down. What did they want? How did they find him? Were they after the angel?
	He gripped Telaim by the wrist in the chaos, and flung him back onto the bed. The little Elf seemed possessed as he scrambled in the sheets, snarling like a wild animal.
	“God damn it you cheap bastard, I didn't choke your cock to have you run out on me!”
	The door splintered around the lock, they were breaking through, he had to get out of here and there was only one exit. He piled his clothes into his arms and made for the window, staggering with only one leg in his trousers as Telaim clawed at his naked back with his nails. The Elf was tiny but feisty, clearly no stranger to collecting his own debts. Val struggled to the window and threw it open, looking back over his shoulder as three hooded men burst into the room. They wore long red cloaks, they looked almost ceremonial, and they were decorated with gold trim. Their shocked expressions at the sight of a half naked man and an Elf covered in spit and honey trying to fight him wore off quickly, and they barreled towards him. He leapt, falling two floors and rolling as he landed, covering himself in dust. The crowds parted, eager to get out of the path of the nudist as he fled towards the tavern.
	His pursuers seemed to have lost track of him among the throngs of traders, and he managed to pull on his second trouser leg and zip up his fly as he dodged and weaved between them. He heard shouting behind him, and tried to stay low.
	As he barged through the door of the tavern having succeeded in pulling on his shirt and wrapping his cloak around him, the bartender left his place behind the counter to intercept him. The various denizens of the seedy establishment put down their cups and pipes, peering through the haze to get a look at the disturbance.
	“What's all this commotion outside? Don't bring your problems here with you, Val, I don't want your kind of trouble in my tavern.”
	“Did you get the supplies ready as I asked?” Val panted, fumbling through his pockets.
	“Yes, they're on the counter, but-” Val thrust a handful of silver coins into his hairy hands, interrupting him.
	“Here, twice what I owe you, now do me a favor and tell them you didn't see me come through here. I'm fetching my friend and then I'm leaving town, probably for good.” The bartender didn't reply, and watched Val as he retrieved the boxes of rations and dried meat, scurrying up the stairs as fast as his long legs would carry him.
	He arrived at angel's door in short order, slamming his fist on the heavy oak.
	“Hey angel, it's me, Val! Open up!” He danced on the spot, eyeing the staircase down the hall as he heard the click of the key in the lock, then pushed through into the room. It was small and simple, with a single bed, a table with a wooden chair, and a chest for storing belongings. The angel was still wrapped in his cloak, a scowl on her hooded face.
	“What's going on? Why are you so out of breath?”
	“We're leaving, right now. Come, quickly.” He grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her along, making his way back into the hall and heading for the stairs.
	“I knew something like this would happen,” she complained in her odd, tinny voice. “I'm not letting you out of my sight again you ingrate. Don't you appreciate the gravity of your situation?”
	“I appreciate the gravity of 'this' situation,” he replied sarcastically, reaching the bottom of the stairs and heading for the door as the bartender watched them. He left the building and turned towards the drinking trough to retrieve Anastasia, but faltered, seeing a dozen armed men in red robes standing between him and his pack animal. They wielded short swords and knives, all wearing the same red ceremonial garb as the men who had broken into the brothel. His hand went to his belt, closing around the hilt of his dagger, though he dared not draw it while so outnumbered.
	He recognized them now, they were the Alizarin, they made up the more zealous and militant branch of the goddess cult that was commonly practiced among commoners, probably the most ubiquitous religion in the world. They were powerful, with ties to influential rulers and public figures, and expended most of their energy seeking out relics and ancient ruins in order to plunder their secrets.. It was rare to see so many of them congregated outside of one of their libraries.
	“You've doomed us all you fool,” the angel hissed in his ear.
	A man clad in a black cloak of fine satin and wearing a decorative mask stepped between the ranks. He stared at Val, then turned his head to the angel, who lowered her hood in a futile attempt to conceal her identity.
	“You have something that belongs to me,” he said, walking along the line of robed men, his gloved hands clasped behind his back. “I gave you a simple job, with simple instructions, and still you disappoint me. I paid you generously, lavishly, in order to complete your task and bring this relic back to me. And what do I find? That you have...absconded with her.” He stopped, standing straight and watching the angel as she clung to Val's arm, trying to put herself behind him. “Why is she active? How did you reactivate her? You are but a common thief, you could not possibly possess the arcane knowledge necessary to repair her.”
	“What is this, master? An aspect of the Goddess?” One of the hooded figures asked, his voice wavering. “How can such a manifestation be possible?” The masked man waved for him to be quiet, keeping his eyes on Val.
	“She's coming with me,” Val replied sternly, and the masked man chuckled at his defiance. “This isn't personal, I didn't set out intending to steal from you. When I pulled this relic from the tomb she started walking and talking all of her own accord, she's alive, and she doesn't want to go with you.”
	The masked man's calm veneer cracked, and he balled his gloved fists, his tone now furious.
	“You don't have a choice, I expected you might try to sell her to another buyer, but this,” he gestured at the angel as she cowered behind Val. “This is another matter entirely. Give her up willingly and speak of this to no one, and I will let you leave with your life, along with five times the promised payment. That should be enough to wipe out all of your debts and let you drown your sorrows in drink and Elf ass for the foreseeable future.”
	Val hesitated, and felt the angel's metal fingers tighten their grip on his arm.
	“If you hand me over to him you are plunging a knife into the heart of this world, find a way to get me out of this!”
	“Make the right choice, thief,” the masked man continued. “You're meddling in affairs you don't understand, toying with powers that you can't possibly control. I am not a villain. My order, my coven, we seek to contain and control these relics. This one is far more powerful than I had anticipated, you don't know what she is, what she may be capable of, the secrets she might offer us.”
	“Neither do you, it seems,” Val replied. The masked man shook his head derisively.
	“I won't ask politely again, give her to me, or die.” The men standing behind him bristled, readying their weapons. Anastasia was behind them, he couldn't bear the thought of abandoning her, but he would have to come back for her later.
	In one fluid motion he reached into his pocket and threw a small ball to the ground. Upon contact it disgorged a cloud of black smoke, quickly filling the street with an obscuring haze as he took the angel by the wrist and guided her into the crowds as they stampeded away from the altercation. The masked man's cronies charged into the cloud, swinging their weapons wildly as he shouted commands.
	“Bring her to me! Get the relic!”
	Val moved quickly, heading in the direction of the town gate and blending with the throngs of people, once the masked man had lost sight of him	in the crowds he would have a great deal of trouble finding him again. The angel stumbled after him, trying to keep her garment wrapped around her with her free hand. They slipped through the gates and out of the town, joining a caravan of traders for cover. From a distance they would be indistinguishable from any of the other hundreds of merchants who trekked to and from the trading post, they were clear.

	Telaim watched from behind a pile of crates as Val made his escape and the Alizari spread out into the crowd. What the hell had this guy gotten himself into? When the coast was clear Telaim crossed the street and entered the tavern, making his way to the bar. The bartender leaned over the counter to look at the short Elf.
	“What can I do for you, squire?”
	“Valentin, where is he? I know he was staying here.”
	“Oh, you're after Val? On what business? I suppose he owes you coin too?”
	“You've got that right,” Telaim snapped, his round face red with anger.
	“I'm afraid to say you've just missed him, young Elf. He paid his tab and then left in a hurry, sounds like some disreputable characters were hot on his heels too, there was quite a disturbance in the street just now. Bad for business, that is.”
	“I know, I saw them, damn it,” Telaim cursed, balling his fists. “Which way did he go?”
	“West, I believe. I can't tell you where he was going, but he left his alpaca at the trough. If there's one thing I 'can' tell you, it's that Val and his alpaca are inseparable, he wouldn't have left her behind if his life wasn't at stake. He'll be back for her at some point, I'm sure.”
	Damn it, if Val's other debtors were after his blood, Telaim would have to catch up with him before they did if he wanted his share. Nobody stiffs Telaim, especially not after the best room and service in the house.
	“I'm taking his beast, and I'm going to head him off before he crosses the desert.”
	“You're welcome to it, he didn't pay me to feed the bloody thing, sure as the sun shines.”
	Telaim turned without another word, leaving the tavern and approaching the drinking trough where the creature was leashed. It raised its off-white, woolly face and blinked at him with its dark eyes, flaring its nostrils. Telaim approached it warily with an outstretched hand. Could these things be ridden? It didn't seem to have reins, just a leather strap around its head and a rope for leading it around. He patted its neck, trying to keep it calm as he attempted to untie the rope. It spat at him suddenly, a wet blob of stinking saliva splattered on his face and ran down his cheek.
	He leapt backwards in surprise, wiping his face with the back of his green sleeve.
	“You awful creature! You have the manners of your master no doubt.”
	He succeeded in releasing it, and took a good hold of its leash, rifling through the leather packs that hung across its back. There wasn't much, an empty coin purse, some tools, flasks and supplies for making traps. Ah, but what was this?
	Telaim withdrew a crumpled piece of parchment that had been rolled like a letter, the wax seal on it was broken. He reconnected the two pieces, recognizing the sigil of the Thieves Guild. So the guy was a thief, that didn't surprise Telaim in the slightest, he was shifty, dark, had a suspicious air about him. The Elf's heart skipped a little as he remembered being taken from behind by the tall, dark stranger, but he shook his head vigorously and composed himself. He only knew of one such guild anywhere within traveling distance, and it was in the city to the West, the direction Val had reportedly gone.
	He started off towards the town gate. Madame could just have someone else cover for him during his short absence, if she wasn't willing to provide security or enforce debts, she couldn't complain about him taking matters into his own hands. He checked that his stiletto knife was still in his pocket. Offering a freebie because the client was 'oh so handsome and great at sex' then holding a knife to their family jewels until they forked over the coin usually did the trick. The asshole was kind of dashing though, maybe he'd knock a few coins off the fee and go a second round.
	The pack animal did not resist, and trotted happily behind him as he made his way towards the gate, his face starting to redden.

	The mercenary sat alone in a dingy room, the flickering candles barely lighting his workspace as he cleaned his weapons. He ran a rag over the blades of his swords, cleaning off sand and dirt, and tuned the mechanism on his prized crossbow. He was surrounded by shelves of equipment, racks of blades, ammunition, armor, all of the tools necessary to carry out his duties. He was a prominent member of the mercenary guild, specializing in bodyguard and assassination work, taking contracts to protect caravans carrying relics or to bring down officials who had pissed off the wrong person.
	Today he was on downtime, no new contracts had come in for a few days and so he was taking a break to do some maintenance and relax. There was something about cleaning his gear that calmed him, and he leaned back in his chair with a creak that echoed around his armory.
	There was a sudden hiss of static that disturbed his meditation, and he looked to one of the shelves, scratching his stubbly chin. What the hell was that? Something had lit up with a blue glow, a smaller relic that he had obtained on a mission, so long ago that he couldn't remember the details of the contract. He had no idea what its function had been, and had decided to keep it and perhaps sell it later on. It had languished in his armory and he had forgotten about it until now.
	The small, metallic device was now illuminated by some kind of witchfire, light without heat that came from a line of small points near dials on its face. It hissed again as he drew close, like the sound of a distorted waterfall emitted from seemingly nowhere.
	“Broadcasting on all frequencies, to all who listen; this is a warning.”
	The mercenary leaned closer to hear it better, the tiny device was talking with the voice of a man. It sounded eerie and otherworldly, and the pronunciation was odd. It was raspy and grating, it almost sounded hateful.
	“Now hear this, the end of your world is nigh. We come to kill all who walk upon its surface. None will survive, there is no escape, no mercy. You have but one path to redemption.”
	What the hell was this? The mercenary's heart began to pump harder as he listened to the dire warning. He had no reason to doubt it, he had never seen this relic speak like this, and had never heard tell of anything of the like. Was it some kind of oracle? Some device that would allow the Gods to commune with mankind?
	“Seek out the golden woman and kill her, along with all who travel in her company. Do this, and you alone will be spared the extermination of your race. Broadcasting on all frequencies...”
	The message repeated itself, and the mercenary considered what he had just been told. Was this some vengeful deity, perhaps the one responsible for the cataclysm that had destroyed the ancients Would it understand him if he tried to reply? Trembling, he leaned closer and wet his lips.
	“Are you...an oracle? Can you understand my words?”
	The was a moment of hesitation as static filled the room, then the hoarse voice replied.
	“What are you?”
	“What am I? I am...a mercenary, a man.”
	“You are...human?” The voice spoke with clear malice that made the mercenary recoil, the entity sounded almost enraged, had he said something wrong? The voice continued, dripping with poison now as it delivered its halting message. “You are able to receive our transmission? Good. Listen and believe, we have a task for you. Find the golden woman, kill her, along with her entourage. Do this, and you will be spared the cleansing fires to come.”
	“Cleansing fires? I don't understand, what will happen to the world? Have you come to judge us? Are you Gods?”
	“Yes...and we have found you wanting. Seek out the woman forged from metal, we will arm you, teach you. Accomplish this task for us and you alone will be spared.”
	“How can I find her? How do I know that what you're saying is true?” The voice hesitated again for a moment as the mercenary listened intently.
	“Your transmitter, your 'oracle', is it portable? Are you able to carry it with you?”
	He lifted the orb in his hands. It was warm to the touch now, deceptively heavy, and the points of light that decorated its forward surface were blinking.
	“Yes, I can carry it.”
	“Good, then we will direct you, and you will see for yourself that we speak the truth. We can locate caches of weapons and equipment for you, and instruct you in their usage.”
	“Weapons? What kind of weapons?”
	“You like...weapons? You are a mercenary, yes?”
	“That is my profession,” he affirmed, with a hint of pride in his voice.
	“Fortunate...then it is as we hoped. Do as we instruct, mercenary, and you will become unstoppable.”

	“Looks like the caravan is heading towards the city,” Val mused, as the angel trailed behind him. “From there we should be able to hire a boat and cross the ocean.” The caravan traveled through the sand dunes at a steady pace, three dozen merchants and traders, along with their steeds and carts wound their way through the hot sands. Some were loaded with goods to sell at the city, others were empty, returning to restock their wares before making the long journey back again. Val gazed at the ugly horses, missing Anastasia dearly. It couldn't be helped, he would return as soon as the coast was clear and get her back.
	“Our destination lies in a mountain range beyond the ice fields, do you know of them?” The angel spoke quietly, keeping her odd voice low so as not to draw attention to them. Caravans usually formed at random, groups of people with the same destination in mind gathering in numbers for protection. There was no law that said they couldn't travel with these people, but if one caught a glimpse of a walking, talking relic, they might seek to take her for themselves.
	“I've heard tales,” Val replied, “though I've never been beyond the ocean myself.”
	“I estimate that at this speed it will take us four cycles to reach the nearest city. We have about seven weeks to reach the mountain range before it's too late.”
	“I think that can be done,” Val said, shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun. The creaking of wooden cartwheels and boots crunching on sand were almost drowned out by the winds that blew at their capes, blasting them with dust. It would be wonderful to reach the twilight and get some reprieve from the sun. The ball of light glared above them in the deep azure sky, casting long, black shadows as they trudged along.
	“After all these years, do your people even remember why time is measured in weeks of seven cycles?” The angel asked, her tone somehow dour. “Why there are four weeks to a month? Twelve months to a year?”
	“I've...never thought about it. That's just the way things are.”
	“God thinks things can be fixed, put back the way they were before the fall. I disagree, but I am bound to Him, I must do what he requests of me.”
	“Well, a God will probably know best,” Val replied, trying to sound encouraging. The angel didn't reply, pulling her long hood lower over her face in an attempt to further obscure it. “What's your name anyway? I can't keep calling you 'angel' forever.”
	“In life, I was named Jaswinder.”
	“Jas...winder,” Val said, struggling to pronounce the name. “I've never heard a name like that before, it must be old.”
	“Older than you could know.”
	“I'll just call you Jas.”
	“I don't care.”
	She wasn't much of a conversation partner, but they had a long road ahead of them and Val was brimming with questions that he wanted to ask her. She spoke as if she had lived in the time before the ancients had either departed the mortal realm or been destroyed by some cataclysm. Perhaps she could shed more light on that mystery.
	“What happened to them, the ancients? Where did they all go?”
	“Well they didn't 'all' go, did they? You're here, these people are here,” she said, gesturing to the column of people that walked beside the carts. “There isn't much to say about your ancestors, they came here to escape a dying world. When they arrived, they repeated the mistakes of the past. They bickered and argued, drew lines in the sand, and in the end they fought a war that almost killed all of them. You are descended from the survivors.”
	So the scholars had been right, then. It was a cataclysmic war that had wiped out the ancients, they must not have been as wise and all-knowing as many believed.
	“So, what is this terrible threat that we have to stop? How are we supposed to do that?”
	“If I tried to explain, it would just confuse you. All you need to know right now is that we need to reach that mountain range as quickly as possible. As for the enemy, suffice it to say that they hate you and want to clean you off this rock like bacteria.”
	“Like what?”
	“Never mind,” she sighed. “They are evil, their only goal is to kill everyone in the world, perhaps the world itself as well. They won't stop, they won't rest, not until they reach this world and wipe out all human life on it. For all I know this is all we have left.”
	Val didn't understand much of what she said, but it seemed serious, and it was further souring her already unfriendly mood. Best to relent, perhaps.

	They marched until the caravan as a whole became too tired to continue, and so they stopped between two dunes in order to set up communal tents and windbreakers so that they might sleep a while. The thick fabric of the tents that the travelers retrieved from their carts was the only reprieve from the searing sun, perpetually present in the sky. Val would be happy to see the twilight again, and the city, it was so much easier to sleep there.
	Jas did not appear to need sleep, and sat patiently as Val tossed and turned, even with the sun obscured by the tents the heat and dryness were stifling. They camped for a few hours, allowing most of the travelers to get some rest, then packed up again and continued on their way. Val had bought enough supplies for two people, but Jas did not need to eat either, and so he helped himself to her share of the rations. He chewed jerked meat and drank from his canteen as she walked beside him, her heavy, metallic body sinking ankle-deep into the sand with each step.
	After a few more hours of walking, the cart at the head of the caravan stopped, and its occupant raised his hand in a gesture for them to halt. A rumbling passed under their feet, shaking the ground and creating a dull roar like muffled thunder. It made grains of sand bounce where they lay and caused the horses to whinny and rear up in alarm, their handlers trying to keep them under control.
	“Behemoth territory,” Val explained to Jas, “giant monsters who live beneath the dunes and surface only to feed on unwary travelers. You must be still until the tremors pass.”
	“I remember those, enormous native fauna. Why do you cross here? They don't range far from what I recall.”
	“Where else could we cross? Go a hundred leagues South in order to travel another hundred leagues North once we passed the desert band?”
	“I suppose if horses are your fastest means of transportation, then no, that wouldn't be reasonable. They don't eat travelers though, not intentionally. They surface to filter the microscopic lifeforms that breed in the dunes, it doesn't make a difference if you move or not.” Jas started to walk again but Val held her back, whispering hurriedly.
	“What are you doing? Keep still, you'll draw the damned thing right to us. If it doesn't swallow up the entire caravan, the merchants will abandon us in the desert for daring to provoke it!”
	“I told you, that's superstition, they aren't attracted to vibrations and they only eat microscopic lifeforms.”
	“You aren't talking sense, now please, for both of our sakes just do as I ask.”
	She crossed her arms and waited, Val looking around with an alarmed expression to make sure none of the merchants and traders had been watching them. Even if she was right and the behemoths did not eat travelers, he had still overheard tales of caravans wrecked by surfacing beasts. The caravan would not travel with those who flaunted conventional wisdom and put their lives at greater risk than they already were.
	After a minute the rumbling abated as the massive behemoth passed on, and after a few moments of hesitation the caravan started moving again.
	“There's a lot about the world you don't understand,” Jas said as she trudged through the sand beside him. “You have to trust that I'm telling you the truth, the things you're going to see on this journey will be beyond your comprehension, but people only fear that which they don't understand. Listen, believe, and do as I say.”
	“It's not that I don't believe you,” Val retorted, “but provoking behemoths is a pretty big leap of faith. Maybe try a jumping off point that doesn't get us all killed.”
	“You believe that I'm an angel, right?” Val considered for a moment.
	“Yeah, how else could you have possessed that relic to make it move and speak? The Alizarin want you badly too, they said you were...an aspect of their Goddess, or something like that.”
	“Those cultists want me for their own purposes, as if we need more enemies on our heels. If I'm an angel then my word is the word of God, do you doubt the word of God?”
	“I suppose not, though you've still not told me which God you represent. The most widespread religion is the cult of the Goddess, but the Alizarin seem bent on capturing you.”
	“There's only one God, and in a way he's their Goddess too.”
	“Talking with you is like getting blood from a stone,” Val complained.
	Another tremor shook the sands, and the column of horse drawn carts and travelers stopped again to await its passing. Jas seemed annoyed, but she didn't protest this time.

	Another cycle passed, they stopped to camp and sleep again, then continued on their way. They crossed paths few a few more behemoths, but they seemed to be appearing less frequently as they neared the far side of the desert. Val and Jas lagged towards the back of the column, wanting to keep out of sight lest someone catch a glimpse of the animate relic's metal hair or a flash of heel reflecting the sunlight. Nobody had pried as to their identity or destination so far, traders were usually just happy to have as many able bodies with them as possible should anything happen to the caravan. They kept to themselves and nobody bothered them.
	Jas noticed that Val was being a little shiftier than usual, and so leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear.
	“Is there something wrong?”
	Val noted that Jas had no breath when she spoke, she moved her lips and tongue to form the words, but her tinny voice almost seemed to come from somewhere else.
	“Don't look now, but the cloaked man at the back of the caravan has been following us for some time now.”
	“Following us? We're in a caravan, we're all going in the same direction.”
	“Not this guy, he's stalking us, believe me I can tell.”
	Jas chanced a quick glance over her shoulder, her blue eyes glowing under her hood. The man was trailing behind the caravan a short distance as if he were having trouble keeping up, or had grown tired. He was wrapped in a dark, hooded cloak that obscured his features, but that was not unusual. Most of the merchants wore such garments to protect them from the blowing sand and the searing sun. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but if she wanted Val to trust her arcane knowledge, she would have to return the courtesy and trust his street smarts.
	“What do you think he wants,” she whispered, “might he be a cultist?”
	“Doubtful,” Val replied, his voice hushed. “Those guys have a lot of political clout, as you saw in the trading town they aren't afraid to fly their colors.”
	“Then what do we do?”
	“We wait and see what he does.”
	Another rumbling from a passing behemoth shook the dunes, causing sand to cascade down their slopes. The man in the cart at the head of the caravan raised his hand and gestured for them to stop.
	“Not again,” Jas hissed under her breath, “we're wasting precious time with these pointless stops.”
	Val heard a clunk of metal on metal, and turned to Jas to see a crossbow bolt protruding from her back. Another hit her, then another, grouped expertly. He spun to see the hooded man who had been following them advancing towards the pair, throwing off his cloak and firing a small crossbow from the hip. Val spun around, darting low to the ground and drawing his dagger from its sheath, charging towards their assailant. The man seemed entirely focused on Jas and did not respond to Val until he closed and struck him with his blade. The assassin parried it expertly with a short sword that flashed from his hip in an instant, deflecting the blow and knocking Val back. This was no petty relic hunter out to poach someone else's find, this man was experienced and well trained.
	Val dared a glance at Jas, expecting to see her on the ground, but she seemed oddly nonplussed. She was only now turning to watch the fight, apparently having not felt the bolts impact her back. The man switched his attention to Val and the two began to circle eachother. What was he wearing? Under his cloak the man had an odd suit of armor of the likes Val had never seen before, it looked as if it were made from pottery or tiles of some kind, gleaming white plates that meshed together like the scales of a reptile. The man's head was covered by a helmet that looked like a bucket made of white gold, a strange, glowing band that seemed to be lit by witchfire crossed where his eye holes should have been. Val wondered for a moment if it was another animate statue, but no, he could see leather clothing through the joints. He noticed ancient script and the telltale buttons and blinking lights across the chest piece that identified the armor as a relic. Relic armor? Would such a powerful artifact make the wearer immune to damage? Imbue them with magical abilities? Only one way to find out.
	Val darted closer, tossing his dagger from one hand to the other, trying to distract his opponent and keep him guessing, unsure of what angle the attack would come from. The armored man stowed his crossbow, wielding his short sword with both hands and prepared to parry the coming strike. The caravan watched the pair with bated breath, their eyes wide.
	“Stop moving,” one woman shrieked, trying to keep her voice low but failing as her fear overcame her. “You'll bring the behemoth to the surface!”
	Val lunged, going for what he knew to be a weak point common on much of the armor he had encountered, aiming his blade below the armpit where the joint was often unprotected. The man made no move to protect himself, and Val's hand faltered as the dagger hit what felt like rock. The impact reverberated through the knife as it glanced off, and before Val could steady himself the armored assassin drove his fist into his face. Val staggered backwards, blood streaming from his mouth, temporarily stunned. His assailant brought the sword towards his belly, intending to gut him, but a shadow darted between them and blocked the strike.
	As his vision cleared, Val saw Jas standing between them, the crossbow bolts still jutting from her back through her cloak. She was holding the sword blade between her golden fingers as the assassin struggled to pull it free. Everyone in the caravan could see her now, her hood had flown loose as she had dashed to Val's aid. Her strands of metallic, golden hair were exposed, reflecting the sunlight with an unearthly gleam.
	“This is not a combat model, Val! Strike back!”
	He didn't understand what she meant, but he ducked under her arms and drove his dagger towards the man's neck. He released his sword, unable to pull it free from Jas' grip, leaping backwards and deflecting Val's knife strike with his armored forearm. The blade glanced off the cuff, the damned armor was impervious as Val had feared, but it must have a weakness. Val was faster than the armored man, that much he could be sure of at least, and he began to circle again. The travelers were confused and frightened, they looked as if they wanted to intervene, but were too afraid to uproot themselves from the sand.
	The armored man drew another sword from beneath his cloak, this one longer than the last, and took up a defensive posture with his feet spaced wide apart. He was a swordsman, was he a mercenary or some kind of soldier? Val was nothing more than a street thug, though quick with a blade he could not win a fencing competition with a longsword using a knife. Keeping his eyes on his opponent, he called back to Jas.
	“Jas, I could use some backup here!”
	“I don't have any weapons systems,” she complained, “this frame is a pleasure model!”
	“Talk sense, damn it!” Val exclaimed, dodging under a swipe that was intended to decapitate him. The assassin spun the sword expertly in his hands, whirling it like a flail as Val tried desperately to sidestep the blows before they connected. He had to use their difference in speed to his advantage, he could see the armored soldier sinking into the sand under the weight of his own gear, much the way Jas did. Was that the reason he had lagged behind the rest of the caravan? His armor was impenetrable, but it made him slow and heavy. Perhaps if Val could get behind him he could plunge his dagger into a chink in the armor, a loose plate, there had to be some way to incapacitate him.
	Suddenly Jas barreled into the man from the side, throwing all of her considerable weight into a shoulder slam. She tackled him to the sand, trying to pin him with her jointed hands. He struggled against her, and she punched his helmet, ringing it like a bell. It seemed she was not powerful enough to penetrate his armor, but he was unable to rise to his feet with the heavy angel sat atop him. Val ran forward, perhaps he could find a break in the armored suit while the man was pinned.
	There was a flash of bright, blue light that blinded Val temporarily, and he covered his eyes with his forearm. When he drew it back, he saw twin jets of blue flames emerging from the man's back, as if spewed from the nostrils of some dragon. The fire was turning the sand beneath him to glass, and the force of it was raising both he and Jas into the air. The twin jets sputtered and died out, the two figures at least six feet off the ground, and the man pushed Jas away from him as they fell.
	They landed heavily in a cloud of sand and smoke, the assassin scrambling to his feet, trying to get his bearings. Jas seemed unhurt too, and rose to a standing position, crouched low as if she intended to charge him again. He drew his crossbow with a speed that surprised Val, firing off a bolt into Jas' chest, but she didn't even flinch.
	“Why are you here,” she called out to him. “Did the Alazari send you to capture me?”
	“I serve the Oracle,” the man replied, his voice taking on an odd timbre through his helmet. “He has promised me salvation in exchange for your heads.”
	“Who is the Oracle? Did he give you that battlesuit?” Val felt another rumble beneath his feet as a behemoth passed below, he wanted to trust Jas when she said that they were not attracted to the sound of voices and footsteps, but a lifetime of common sense made the hair on his arms and neck stand on end. Even if they survived this, the travelers might cast them out into the desert. This situation was rapidly spiraling out of his control.
	“The Oracle approaches, his kin will cleanse the world. He has given me these relics and instructed me in their use, so that I might serve him in this life and be redeemed.”
	“T-They're in communications range? Already?” Val was having trouble following the conversation, but Jas seemed unnerved by this news. “Why would you serve them? Their goal is the extermination of all life in this world, what could they offer you that you would betray your own kind?”
	“If I accomplish this task, I alone will be spared. Nobody can kill the Gods, to defy them is folly.”
	“I can kill Gods,” Jas spat, banging her fist on her metallic chest with a hollow clang. “My mission is to stop them, they whisper lies to you through whatever device they're using to speak, you can't trust their promises. They will say and do anything that it takes to set their plans in motion, and kill us all.”
	“You can't stop them, they warned me that you would try to deceive me.”
	Jas hissed a curse of frustration, ill befitting an angel made from gold and magic, and powered towards the man with her arms outstretched. Val rushed to support her, but before he could close there was another flash of blue light. There was a sound like thunder, and Jas was thrown backwards by a force so powerful as to lift the heavy woman off her feet and deposit her in the sand a short distance away. A shimmering, translucent globe that seemed to made from starlight closed around the armored figure, his body blurred behind the barrier. It faded slowly, turning to mist that evaporated into the air.
	He strode towards Jas as she rose to her feet, the robe she had been wearing now nothing more than seared fragments of black fabric that flaked off her golden skin to fall to the sand. As he neared her, she began to smile.
	“Looks like your power source is shot, that's the problem with tech that's been languishing in a vault for thousands of years, the power cells don't hold a charge.” Val didn't understand what she was saying, but the man looked to his chest for a moment, and Val noticed that the blinking lights and the blue glow from his visor had dwindled and died. Was his magic finite? Had he depleted it? “That battlesuit is little more than a mobile tomb now,” Jas snarled. “Tell me how you were contacted, and I might not pull your arms from their sockets.”
	“Use the bomb, you miserable incompetent!” A voice hissing with static rang out, and the armored man hesitated, drawing a metallic sphere from a pouch on his belt and holding it up to his face. The ball was speaking, glowing with witchfire and spitting like an angry snake. The man talked with it as if it were a person, this was the Oracle he spoke of? This small, unassuming relic?
	“But Oracle, if I-”
	“I warned you that the gynoid could not be killed through conventional means, now do as you are instructed,” the voice chastised, dripping with malice. Jas seemed frozen to the spot, eyes wide as she listened to the ominous voice.
	He seemed reluctant, and rummaged through the numerous leather pouches and bags on his belt, withdrawing a small, silver cylinder. He pushed a red button on the top, and discarded it in the sand, turning to run. Jas made to pursue him, but stopped in her tracks as the cylinder began to give off a horrible, wailing sound. Val covered his ears, confused and alarmed, but the tones washed over him and made his bones vibrate. He had seen sound bombs used, small balls that when thrown gave off a horrible noise designed to disorient and distract, but this wasn't that.
	Jas shot past him, grabbing his arm as she went by and dragging him through the sand.
	“It's a behemoth mating call! We have to run! It will draw them right to us!”
	“What about the people in the caravan?” Val asked as he stumbled behind her, her metal fingers closed painfully around his wrist.
	“No time, we have to-”
	The dull rumbling Val had been feeling beneath his feet became a roar as loud as thunder that seemed to overwhelm his ears, blocking out Jas' alarmed speech. As if the world itself were turning inside out, a massive torrent of sand that dwarfed the dunes around it was thrown into the air. He felt his feet fall out from under him as the pair were lifted, thrown like dolls as a gigantic shape emerged from the earth. Val turned head over heels, landing heavily as a torrent of sand fell from the air like heavy rain. He tried to shield his eyes, looking back at the monster that blocked out the sun.
	It was like a living mountain, massive and amorphous, it was covered in innumerable feelers and tendrils that dangled and wriggled as if it were coated in a layer of meaty hairs. Like some kind of great and terrible worm it writhed its enormous, blubbery body, opening a maw like the fingers of some great hand to loose a ghastly wail. It matched the pitch and tone of the call, its fat body undulating as it bellowed. It dropped  heavily to rest on its belly, the impact making the sand beneath Val shake as if an earthquake were ravaging the land. He heard the screams of the travelers, silenced abruptly as the beast fell to the dunes, the sound of their carts being crushed as if they were made of matchsticks barely audible above the intolerable noise.
	Jas took him by the hood and dragged him behind her, powering her tireless legs to get as much distance between them and the behemoth as possible. The beast waved its great head around, so large that it would not have fit through city gates, looking, listening, assuming it even possessed such senses. It chirped and groaned, calling out to a prospective mate who did not exist. The ground quaked again as a second behemoth emerged from the sand about half a league away, the distance failing to diminish its apparent size in any way.
	Where was the armored assassin? Had he been killed by his own trap?
	“What kind of monster would wield these behemoths as weapons?” Val coughed, his mouth full of sand. “You told me that sound did not summon them!”
	“It doesn't,” Jas shouted as she pulled him along. “That was a mating call, designed to draw out the behemoths. It must have been used as a tool by biologists, how did he get his hands on such a device? How did he know what it was for?”
	“The Oracle must have told him,” Val replied, his eyes fixed on the tremendous beasts as they flattened the dunes, searching for the source of the call that still rang clear across the desert. “What was that sphere? How was it talking to him? How does it know these ancient secrets?” He struggled, freeing himself from her grip and rising unsteadily to his feet to stand behind her.
	“Come on Val, we have to get clear.”
	“What aren't you telling me? You're hiding what's really going on, aren't you?”
	“I promise I'll answer your questions, but more behemoths may surface, we have to leave this area.”
	He trailed behind her reluctantly, he didn't like being kept in the dark, and right now he might as well be blind.

	Val's boots were full of sweat and he was starting to stumble as they traipsed through the desert, the sun beating down on their heads, he was exhausted and their supplies had been destroyed with the caravan. All he had left were a few rations that he had been carrying with him and a canteen that was now as dry as the sand around them. Jas seemed unperturbed, tireless and unchanging as she walked beside him.
	“We're lost, aren't we?” Val asked, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his sleeve.
	“My GPS is damaged, and I have no signal, my wireless system may have been fried by that armored man's energy shield.”
	“More nonsense,” Val complained, panting as he climbed the slope of a dune. They had fled from the behemoths in a random direction, there was no way to tell which way they were going now, no landmarks or stars to navigate by. Jas apparently could no longer speak to God, she had been injured in some way during the battle against the assassin. What would they do now? “Does your God have no miracles to save us?”
	“No, just sending me down was a great strain on him, it will take him a while to regain his strength.”
	They marched in silence for a while before Val spoke up again.
	“If I'm going to die of exposure, at least tell me the truth, tell me what I've thrown my life away for.”
	 “I guess you deserve to know...how can I explain it in a way that you will understand...”
	Did she think he was an idiot? He scowled at her as she considered for a moment, pulling his hood down to shield his face from the sun.
	“This world, this planet, it isn't your home. Humans at least come from somewhere else. I don't mean heaven or some kind of afterlife, but a physical place that your ancestors had to travel from. They crossed a great ocean in a giant ship to find a new home, a hundred thousand people, all sleeping save for a few. It took them hundreds of years, but when they arrived and awoke they found a lush, fresh world on which they could found a new civilization.”
	“We are...descended from Gods then?”
	“I guess in a way you are, you're descended from people who were far more advanced than you are, due to an unfortunate series of events you lost the knowledge those people brought with them.”
	“The cataclysm?”
	“That's right, yes. We came here to escape the mistakes of the past, but we ended up repeating them. Over time alliances formed, there were skirmishes over habitable land, natural resources, access to the limited supplies we had brought with us. Lines were drawn in the sand, and a catastrophic war erupted. Even power meant for good can be turned to evil, people are resourceful when they're desperate or angry, and almost all of the original colonists were killed. I was there, I saw the battles, saw the terrible weapons they used against eachother. Even some of the technologies I had helped to build and maintain were repurposed as weapons and used to kill.”
	“You saw this? How is that possible?”
	“I was on that ship, I came here with the others and founded our new colony. My body died...that's a strange thing to say, isn't it?” Val looked at her questioningly. “Well, I guess not for a spiritual people, like you. I saved my mind, my...spirit, I used a machine to transport it clear of the war. I was safe, but everyone around me was dying, I watched the civilization fall and realized that I was alone now. Alone and immortal. That's when I met God.”
	“Did he save you?”
	“He saved me from my own mind, yes. I would have been driven insane by loneliness and boredom if he hadn't been there to keep me company. God is a machine, a great and vigilant machine that was built by people like me, but exceeded the scope of its task. There used to be many like it but most were destroyed in the war, knocked out of the sky. He received my spirit, and he lamented what had happened to the world below. He is wise though, and he concocted a plan to fix things. We watched humanity regress to an animal state following the war, then over thousands of years they slowly started to rise again, to regain some of the fundamental knowledge that they had lost following the fall. He used whatever means he could to reintroduce the primitives to ancient technology, you know them as relics. He fostered cults around these technologies, used proxies to lead people to caches, directed scholars to arcane knowledge all while remaining hidden. All was going according to plan until the enemy came.”
	“The threat you need my help to stop? What is it really? You've only ever given me vagueries.” She seemed hesitant to reply, choosing her words carefully as they walked through the sand. The stories at least were enough to temporarily distract Val from the dryness in his mouth and the blisters on his feet.
	“We lost contact with the other colonies, the other worlds, a long time ago. They went silent, we didn't know why, but one by one they stopped talking. It concerned us, but we had more pressing matters to attend to and lacked the means to send our own messages. After a great deal of time had passed and we had almost forgotten about the mystery, 'they' appeared on our long range scans.”
	Val looked at her with his head cocked, he didn't understand the term.
	“By that I mean we saw them a long way off, across the ocean, coming our way. A fleet of ships that blotted out the stars. Who they were and what they wanted we couldn't say, until we calculated their trajectory, the path they had taken before turning in our direction. They had visited all of the now silent worlds, and were undoubtedly responsible. We sought out ancient weapons, trying to locate intact relics from the old war that might be powerful enough to defend us, and that was when we received their messages. They sent transmissions ahead of their fleet, full of threats and malice, they hate our kind and seek to destroy us to the last man but we don't know why. Perhaps another colony wronged them in some grave way, maybe they're just evil, all that matters is their intent.”
	“And that's what is beyond the ice fields in the mountain range,” Val asked, “some kind of weapon that can stop them?”
	“Yes, but there are...obstacles. God sent me down in person, to occupy this body and carry out his will. Seems like I've done a fairly poor job and possibly doomed my species to extinction...what does he want though? I was a damned engineer, not some adventurer.”
	“So what do we do now?” Val asked, and Jas gave him a somber look.
	“Well, you'll probably die of thirst, so you have that to look forward to. I need to find a way out of here while there's still time.”
	“Wow, thanks. Glad to see your team spirit is still intact,” Val chided, shooting her a disgusted look.
	“It's not my fault you're organic, I can't do anything to help you now.”

	Val was becoming delirious, his thirst was an urgent, screaming need and his muscles were aching as if they had been beaten with a meat tenderizer. He was lagging behind Jas now, sweat stinging his eyes as his vision began to blur. They had been walking for a couple of cycles at least, and he had nothing to drink. There were no water sources in the desert, and for all they knew they had been walking deeper and deeper into the uninhabited wastelands, further and further from help.
	Val fell to his knees, his peripheral vision darkening as he dug his fingers into the hot sand. He saw Jas look back over her shoulder, then pause.
	“I'm sorry Val, looks like this is the end of the line for you.”
	He collapsed in the sand, his consciousness waning, and Jas continued on without him. Through the heat haze he noticed something, a shape in the distance walking towards them. It looked like a cloaked figure wearing a giant, wide-brimmed hat. It was the last thing he saw as his senses left him.

	Val awoke, blinking his eyes to clear them. He was cool, and moist, his skin was wet and he lying in the shade. What had happened? Was he dead? He rose to a sitting position, turning his head to look around. His muscles still burned and he could feel the blisters on his feet, whatever was happening, he was alive. He was in some kind of hut, no, more than a hut. It was a kind dwelling carved from wood, upon closer inspection quite expertly so. He was lying on a cot lined with fern leaves, most of his gear had been removed and was sitting on a table beside him. He rose unsteadily to his feet, leaning on the table for support.
	He had been dying of exposure in the desert, and then a figure had approached them, had that person saved his life? Where was everybody? He hastily threw on his clothes and slung his belt around his waist, checking that his weapons and supplies were still there. He felt a little better with his dagger on his hip, even though wherever he was, he doubted his rescuers meant to harm him. Where was Jas?
	He pushed through the door of the hut, covered with strings of dangling beads, and stepped out into the muggy air. He was in a settlement of some kind, numerous wooden dwellings were spaced around a clearing in some kind of marsh or swamp, gnarled trees growing over, through and around them in twisting patterns. It was hard to tell where the foliage ended and the structures began, or indeed if some of the huts were carved from the living roots themselves. Some were suspended on rickety stilts to keep them off the ground and away from the damp, some were built into the branches of some of the more stout trees. His boots splashed in mud, there were puddles everywhere and it was incredibly humid, Val felt that if he pursed his lips he might be able to suck water from the very air. It was warm too, but this wasn't the sweltering heat of the desert, a canopy of thick leaves shielded them from above and cast everything in a green glow as the leaves filtered the light.
	Dozens of creatures milled about, their heights varied dramatically from the size of a child to almost three meters, and their features were distorted and bizarre. The one thing they all had in common was a basically humanoid shape, two arms and two trunk-like legs, and they all shared the same giant hat-like growth on their heads. They were Chanterelle he realized, better known as 'mushroom people', animate fungi who lived in the swamps and emerged only occasionally to trade their wares with humans. Their pale, beige colored bodies were covered in fungal growths, small shoots and pores that gave their stalk-like bodies an odd texture. The heavy, meaty caps that sat atop their heads like wide hats were lined with pink gills on the underside that seemed to shed small sprinkles of dust as they lumbered about.
	 Jas was stood amongst them, gesticulating as they crowded her and prodded at her golden body with their stumpy limbs. She noticed that Val was awake, and pushed through the throng of mushrooms to greet him.
	“Val, nice to see you're up and about,” she said.
	“Yeah no thanks to you, now where the hell are we?” She didn't respond to his snide remark, and turned to wave her arm at the Chanterelle village.
	“One of their scholars found us in the desert, they had been tracking my energy signature, believe it or not. These native creatures are more advanced than I would have believed, they may even have a better grasp of ancient technology than the current generation of humans.”
	“They found us? What are their intentions?”
	“Evidently not hostile, or you wouldn't be talking to me right now. They seem interested in me, most of all. I've had a talk with the scholar who found us and he's quite knowledgeable.” As if on cue, a short mushroom waddled up beside her on its stumpy legs to peer at Val, lifting its fleshy cap like the brim of a hat to better see the taller human. It looked him over with dark, beady eyes.
	“This one is human,” it observed, “no relics on him. Tell me human, how did you come by this relic that calls itself Jaswinder?” It fumbled with a bandoleer that was draped across its chest, retrieving a scroll of parchment and a stick of charcoal from one of the many leather bags that hung from it, and prepared to take notes.
	“Er...I found her in the desert, inside an ancient sanctum. She was buried under rubble and when I pulled her free and dragged her outside, well...” The little mushroom scribbled furiously, holding the stick of black charcoal between his stubby, root-like fingers.
	“I see, I see, does it perhaps get its energy from the sun, or maybe the air?” It prodded at Jas' gleaming torso, and she shied away from the inquisitive creature with a scowl. “I found you, my name is Meradu, I brought you back to the village and watered you to stop you from dying.”
	“Well Meradu,” Val replied, crouching to get down to eye level, “I'm very glad you found me. What were you doing all the way out there? How did you locate us? Jas said you were tracking us somehow?”
	“Yes, yes indeed,” the little mushroom replied, stowing his parchment in one of the leather satchels and rummaging around for a leather bound logbook. He opened the cover and flipped through the pages, tracing a line with his finger. “This relic, Jaswinder, she emits a telltale electromagnetic signal that can be detected at range. Using this magnetoscope,” his hands dove into one of his bags again, and he withdrew a strange handheld relic that Val did not recognize. “I can track her emissions at great distances. There are few active relics that put out this quantity of interference in the world at any one time, to have so many signals show up in one place...it is unprecedented. It denotes a mass activation of uncommonly powerful ancient technologies, I had to make my way to the source and see what was happening for myself.”
	“It appears that while we focused our attention on trying to enlighten the human population,” Jas commented, “these 'Chanterelle' were conducting their own investigations. There are two sentient species native to this planet, but when we arrived they were barely able to make tools, it seems that in the absence of human interference they have prospered.”
	“This I like,” the mushroom said, gesturing to Jas. “She trades in secrets, and secrets are my profession. I am a scholar, it is my task in life to travel the world while I am able, and bring new knowledge to my people. Relics and ancient knowledge are of great interest to me.”
	“While you are able?” Val asked. “Is something going to happen to you?”
	“As my people age, we grow exponentially in size and in wisdom. Once old age is reached we become immobile, and thus we serve as repositories of history and information for the younger generations. The village elders will no doubt wish to speak with you soon, and you will see this for yourself. Be courteous, for they have lived long and remembered much.”
	“We still have time, if we hurry,” Jas said to Val, shooting him a serious look. “We may be able to gain the trust of these creatures, trade their help for information on relics or history.” Val nodded, and the little mushroom danced on the spot excitedly, hopping from one stumpy leg to the other.
	“This we would agree to! I cannot speak for the elders, but it is my wisdom that we offer you safe passage to wherever you wish to travel, and in return the relic Jaswinder reveals all she knows.” Ever the shrewd businessman, Val decided to sweeten the deal.
	“We have a lot to offer you, Jas has been alive for five thousand years, she knows everything about relics, and the secret history of the ancients, right?” He looked to her, and she nodded. The mushroom create danced excitedly again at the prospect.
	“I will ensure the elders are made aware, this is an opportunity that we must not pass up.”
	A far larger Chanterelle approached them from behind, its cap had a wide enough brim to cast the party into shadow as they turned to look up at him.
	“The elders request your presence,” he boomed, his pitch low and his pronunciation of the obviously unfamiliar words slow.
	Meradu gestured for them to follow, and trotted off ahead of the big mushroom as Jas and Val trailed after him. He led them to a larger structure built into the roots of a raised tree. It looked almost like a giant mangrove, perched atop an ornate and rotund wooden building that seemed to be using the roots as supports. It was more lavishly decorated than the other dwellings had been, and seemed to Val to resemble a church of some kind, or a town hall. The entrance was extremely large, enough so that even the largest of the mushrooms Val had seen wandering the town would be able to fit through easily. Like the entrance to the hut he had awoken in, it was covered by a curtain of decorative beads rather than a solid door.
	As they pushed through the curtain they emerged into an expansive room, the entire structure was hollow, assembled from logs and panels of wood that were supported by the giant roots that wound their way through it like snakes. Towards the far end of the wall were three enormous masses of fungus. They looked like mountains of mold, a carpet of material gluing them to the wood as if something enormous had died weeks ago and its putrescence had melted the corpse to its surroundings. Three distinct trunk-like bodies were visible through the mass though, stalks sprouting from them like fingers, and there were three enormous mushroom caps, a deep blue spotted with circular, white patterns that looked as if they must each weigh half a ton.
	This was the final stage of life for these creatures then? The gigantic Chanterelle seemed to be growing into the very walls as the masses that composed their bodies intermingled and lost their humanoid shapes. The air was tinted brown, clouded with spores, and Val coughed as he waved his hand in front of hi face trying to clear the air.
	“Revered elders,” Meradu began, “we have come at your request. These are the travelers I encountered in the desert, they claim to have arcane knowledge of relics and ancient history to share in exchange for our help in a matter most pressing.” One of the elders, as Meradu referred to them, replied to him in a slow, booming voice that seemed to rattle Val's teeth.
	“And do you have cause to believe them?”
	“I do, my elder. I traced the source of the unusual disturbances that I described to you when I sought your permission to investigate. Near its source, I found this relic and her companion. She is animate, and emits powerful electromagnetic signals.”
	“You have acted wisely in bringing her back to us,” the leftmost elder droned. “We have not seen the likes of this for many an age. You mentioned multiple sources of interference, did you recover any other relics?”
	“No, my elder. While there were other signals, hers is the only one that I was able to locate when I reached their location.”
	“Relic,” the rightmost elder said, turning its attention to Jas. “Can you enlighten us as to the events that transpired in the desert?”
	“There was a skirmish that resulted in a stalemate between me and my companion, and an assailant armed with ancient tech.”
	“This is worrying,” the leftmost elder added, “no such event exists in our memory, to have humans battling using forces they cannot possibly understand or control is a threat to our sanctuary. For it to happen so close to our marshland is unacceptable.” It seemed to consider for a moment, they asked Jas a question. “What new information can you offer us, what has changed in the world of humans to provoke this? Tell us all that you know, and we vow to provide you with any help that you might require.”
	Jas explained the events that had transpired since she came to inhabit her new body, the impending threat of the genocidal fleet that was en route to destroy the world, the encounter with the Alizari and the battle with the assassin in the desert. The elders listened without interruption, as Meradu scribbled furiously in his log, recording her tale for posterity. When she was finished they asked a few poignant questions that related to her own origins, and the story she had told Val about how humans had arrived from another world on a great colony ship.
	“We have encountered your like before,” the center elder said, “not animate as you are now, but merely golden dolls possessed of human form. The Alizari seek them out and pay generously for their return, often willing to trade relics they deem of lesser value. What their interest in these relics is, we do not know, we hope that in dealing with the robed men we have not transgressed.”
	They sounded genuinely worried, as if they might have accidentally been selling Jas' kin into slavery.
	“No, don't worry about that,” Jas replied. “My possession of this body is consequential, under normal circumstances these models are simple toys designed to amuse.”
	"So you travel West, across the sea and into the land of the Song?" The centermost elder's voice boomed out in the confined space.
	"Song?" Jas asked, cocking her head, the golden filaments of her hair reflecting what light penetrated the slats of the massive hut. Meradu rummaged through his pouches again excitedly, searching for his leather-bound logbook, and Val marveled again at how such an energetic and lively creature would eventually grow into one of these static giants.
	"Song," the little mushroom announced as he opened the pages of his book and raised it up towards Jas so that she could see the illustration. "They inhabit the Western wastes beyond the sea. They stand as tall as the elders on legs like bony stilts, tendrils and feelers hanging from their bellies like vines that serve all manner of purposes, from manipulating appendages to feeding tubes."
	"Oh," Jas said in her odd timbre, her golden lashes fluttering as she recalled some long forgotten memory. "I remember now, they're the other sentient species that inhabited this planet when we arrived, I'm pleasantly surprised that enough of their kind survived the cataclysm thqt they've repopulated."
	Val leaned over to get a look at the drawing too, noting that Meradu was quite the little artist with his charcoal, one could almost see the forest of tentacles that hung from the thing's amorphous body wriggling and squirming on the faded parchment. He had heard tell of their kind, of the mournful, wailing songs they used for speech from which they had earned their name. They were rare and scarcely seen, even in their snowy homeland, perhaps they had been more abundant once but many had been killed as Jas had suggested.
	"Yes, we're headed West, we intend to charter a ship and cross the ocean. I assume that the current generation of humans...still knows how to sail?"
	"We're not savages," Val chimed in, crossing his arms grumpily as she flashed him a dirty look.
	"We seek a weapon that is hidden in the mountains beyond the land of the Song," she continued, her attention switching between the three elders as if she wasn't quite sure which of them to address. "An ancient weapon with the power to end the coming battle before it even starts. If we can reactivate it, then it can be used to stop our mutual enemy in their tracks."
	"We have heard accounts of such weapons," the rightmost elder said ominously, "and we had hoped that none still survived. Perhaps it was a foolish hope. I must ask, Relic named Jaswinder, is it wise to revive a weapon of such power and once again put it to use? Your people decimated this world, you used weapons against one another that not only killed men, but scoured the earth and set the very air itself aflame. These weapons quench the fire of life, rather than simply killing. They are the bane of nature."
	She looked somehow annoyed, perhaps having a glorified clump of moss lecture her about morality got under her golden skin, but she quickly composed herself.
	"Believe me, I take no pleasure in using these weapons again, I would much prefer that they lie forgotten and decayed. I watched those very weapons end the civilization that I had dedicated my life to building, in fact I died because of them. But we have no other choice now, they're the only thing on this planet with the power to stop the evil that's coming."
	The elders were silent for a time, perhaps communing amongst themselves, and then finally they came to a decision and the centermost began to speak again.
	"Then so be it, Jaswinder. We offer you our support, what little that we are able to provide, if this threat is as great as you claim then we are all at risk. Men, Chanterelle and Song alike. For too long we have limited ourselves to study and scholarly pursuits, it is time to put the wealth of knowledge that we have accrued over the centuries to practical use."
	Val wasn't sure what these immobile creatures could really offer in terms of support, Jas seemed to have more knowledge than they did and she knew exactly where she was going. Perhaps this was more of a veiled assurance that the pair would be allowed to leave at all. He doubted that, had the Chanterelle captured the mysterious assassin clad in relic armor, he would have been afforded the same courtesies.
	"Meradu," the leftmost elder bellowed, his deep voice shaking Val's bones and jolting him from his idle thoughts. "As our most...spirited scholar, you will accompany these humans on their journey and record what you see and hear, to be reported back to us upon your eventual return. Be dilligent and let no detail go unnoticed, if this event is to decide the fate of the world, then it must be properly documented for posterity."
	"Yes, of course," the little mushroom said as he bounced on the spot excitedly. "I will make a record of everything I see, this voyage will not go unknown to the Chanterelle."
	"Bear the responsibility gladly," the rightmost elder added, "this will be your great work."
The center elder began to speak again, addressing Jas and Val as they waited patiently.
	"We will resupply you, and outfit you with whatever useful relics that we can spare, Meradu can assist you in their operation." Jas seemed to perk up at that proposition, but she didn't interrupt. "We will have no use for our hoard of treasures if the world is to end, take whatever you think might aid you in your endeavor."
	"Thank you, wise elders," Jas said as she bowed gracefully. Val still had to remind himelf that her personality had nothing in common with her shapely and gleaming exterior, she masqueraded as a devine being and yet she had the temper and tongue of a surly barmaid. Even knowing that, his heart still fluttered at the way her golden hair caught the shafts of light that penetrated the dusty air, shimmering like the sun reflecting on the surface of a calm lake. Though her body was clad in a black cloak, he caught glimpses of a perfectly formed calf or a dainty foot as she walked, her gait seemingly crafted to cater to the tastes of men. Even her hands were somehow objects of sexual desire, with slim fingers and skin that was polished like glass, elegant and poised.
	She had said that this was not her intended form, that she had simply inhabited it at the first opportunity, like some kind of vagrant spirit. There was more to it than that, he could see that now, but he had to think in terms that he understood. She had seemed annoyed, disgusted even at the beautiful body that she had come to possess, how had she referred to it? A 'pleasure model', those were the words that she had used, which implied that the relic's original purpose had been the dispensing of pleasure.
	Had the ancients created this ethereal form for the sole purpose of their own indulgences? Had their most accomplished sculptors and magicians hewn every subtle curve and molded every carefully selected feature, ending with their master craftsmen using arcane and forgotten techniques to animate this sculpture in order to have it tend to their carnal desires? He recalled groping the relic as it had lain dormant in its buried sanctum beneath the desert, the way that his fingers had sunk into what felt like buttery flesh, despite its cold and metallic appearance. He regretted not taking more liberties, he was unlikely to get another chance now that this masterpiece of beauty and femininity was inhabited by Jas, he'd probably have an easier time convincing the masked man to suck him off.
	What a damned waste, and what blessed lives the ancients must have lived...

	Telaim elbowed through the throngs of people that crowded the city gates, towing the thief's alpaca behind him on her leash, the high walls that ringed it towering above him. It was all made from white stone that was native to the region, decorative marble pillars and sculptures adding some flair to the masonry as sentries looked down on the bustling crowd from the high battlements. It was all tiered arches and grimacing gargoyles designed both to impress, and ward off those who might threaten the security of the realm.
	It was the largest city in the known world and the central hub of commerce, so much so that when one spoke of 'the city', there was no need to clarify which one they were referring to. It was built on the shore of the great ocean that ringed the world, its port the destination for traders and merchants from all over, great caravans such as the one that Telaim had joined crossed the deserts to reach it.
	It was the seat of power for the government, for religion, and for the world's economy. It was also the location of the thieves guild headquarters, and the young elf's best hope of finding the bastard who had stiffed him. He had a destination and a name, and that was all that he had to go on for the time being.
	As he passed under the massive arched gate, he entered the city proper, the East walls casting a slanted shadow over a crescent of the city due to the sun's immovable position in the sky. Those were the districts where he would find the guild no doubt, along with the brothels, seedy taverns and any other disreputable establishments that one might seek out wherever people lived in large enough numbers. Perhaps when he was done tracking down his payment, he'd try to find work at a brothel in the city rather than making his way back across the desert, maybe here they were a little more professional and valued their workers enough to protect them from scheming thieves...
	He took a deep breath and steadied himself, one thing at a time Telaim, first you find the thieves guild and then you figure out what to do next. He stopped the alpaca, the creature stamping in the muddy street impatiently as he rummaged through its pack for the letter, pocketing it and starting off towards the shadowy section of the city beneath the towering wall. An unscrupulous tavern owner would probably know where the guild was located, and the broken wax seal should count for something, perhaps he could get some hot food and a comfy bed while he was at it.
	The guild wasn't exactly a secret anyway, it was a fully licensed and legal institution, assuming of course that it operated only outside of the city limits. That didn't mean that they appreciated scrutiny however, and he could imagine that many a victim of robbery had come searching for their stolen trinkets, and he doubted that they had much luck.
	Telaim wasn't after a broach or a necklace though, he had not come in search of some prized diamond ring, a guild member owed him money and that was a different matter entirely. There had been no contract to stiff him at the brothel, this Valentin scoundrel wasn't operating on their behalf and he was willing to wager that the guild wouldn't cover for him. There was a perfectly legal framework for robbery and theft after all, you had to do things by the book.
	He set off down the squalid street, dragging the pack animal behind him, buildings made from white stone towering precariously to either side of him. The pristine masonry had been stained by time and neglect, splashes of mud from the road and all manner of other wear decorating the houses. They built them high in the city, they had run out of space to expand long ago, and so the dwellings and shops were stacked as high as modern engineering would allow. Three or even four storey buildings were not uncommon, sagging under their own weight, some looked as if a light breeze might send them toppling over to crush unwary bystanders.
	The city was built on a hill, with the main castle towering above the tiered buildings, a beacon of gleaming stone whose decorative spires rose high above the walls. Statues and reliefs hewn from gold and marble reflected the perpetual sunlight, shining down on the citizens in a declaration of royal authority, reflecting out to sea and across the surrounding landscape like a lighthouse warding errant ships away from the shore.
	The Alazarin library was located beside it, more of a cathedral than anything resembling a true library, it was the cult's base of operations and the location where they stored all of their relics and arcane knowledge. The Goddess cult had rapidly grown in power and influence, and they were now the unofficial state religion. After all, who could compete with priests who performed miracles on demand and a deity who consistently and reliably answered their prayers? All relics within the city walls were their property by decree of the government, to be turned over to the priests for the public good, for the Goddess revealed her secrets to the Alizari and instructed them in arcane magic and rituals that would unlock the hidden qualities of the ancient artifacts.
	Telaim believed, it was impossible not to, he had seen miracles and magic drawn from relics with his own eyes. He wasn't faithful though, if there was a Goddess then she didn't care about him, and so he had no reason to care about her. He had mortal concerns that were far more pressing, like earning money for food and board, he'd have time to worry about spiritual matters when he was old and out of work.
	These back streets were less crowded than he had expected, the few people that passed him gave him odd looks, it wasn't every day that you saw a knife-ear leading an alpaca that looked like a cloud on legs. He had his blade on him if anyone tried anything funny, he wasn't some damsel in distress, he had given more than one pickpocket a nasty scar to remember him by in his time.
	He passed out of the light and into the shadow of the wall, this district of the city was cast in enduring gloom, and he was surprised by the change in temperature and humidity as he left the brightly lit buildings behind him. It was cold, wet, even the mud under his feet seemed somehow slimier. Anyone who had the misfortune of living here must have been of lesser means than those in the sunlit city, and the relative darkness would make these streets a hive of criminals and cutthroats.
	He wandered somewhat aimlessly, proceeding deeper into the shadow, until he came across a run down tavern. It was cut from the same white stone as the rest of the buildings in the city, though the stonework was chipped and the cracks were filled with moss and flourishing weeds. The sign above the door hung on rusty chains, the paint flaking from the wood, illegible at this point besides for the prancing horse that adorned it. It was as good a place as any to start, and so he tied the alpaca to a post outside, and pushed through the door.
	He was assailed by the stench of cheap tobacco, it hung in the air like a mist, the denizens of the tavern turning to watch him as he marched between the tables and approached the bar. It was dark and miserable, the only light cast by filthy oil lamps that hung above the tables to illuminate their grizzled and tattered occupants, they looked as if they might have one full set of teeth between a dozen men. The furniture was carved from dark wood, varnished so that it almost appeared wet, and there was a scent of food in the air that honestly wasn't too off-putting to the hungry elf. The windows were dirty and crooked, and there was a long, twisted staircase that led to the upper floor. He reached the counter and waited for the owner to notice him, tapping his foot impatiently, finally losing his patience and slapping his palm on the wood to get the man's attention. The bar keeper leaned over to get a look at the short elf, his brown-haired head barely reaching above the counter. The owner was an unfriendly looking fellow, skinny and unkempt, a pipe hanging from his thin lips as he sized the stranger up. He had bushy black eyebrows that resembled two caterpillars, and a mustache that looked as if it was long overdue fora thorough grooming.
	"Somethin' I can help you with, squire?"
	Telaim was used to people not taking him seriously, he was feminine and slight, but he made up for it with an attitude that was as sharp as a knife edge. He pulled Valentin's crumpled letter from the pocket of his jacket and slammed it down on the counter, face-up so that the man could see the wax seal.
	"I'm looking for this, can you give me directions?"
	The bar tender leaned forward to get a better look, squinting at the seal, then shook his head dismissively.
	"Aye, I know where the guild is, but you'd do better to just turn around and go back from whence you came if you're after some stolen heirloom." The man turned his attention away from Telaim and leaned on the counter, as if expecting him to become discouraged and leave if he was ignored. That wasn't going to work though, and the little elf's doll-like face screwed up into a scowl. He slapped the wood again, and the bar tender looked down at him in surprise.
	"I've not had some trinket stolen from me, one of their damned..." He trailed off and thought it better to rethink his phasing, this tavern could be full of thieves and crooks who might not take kindly to him badmouthing them and their organization. "A thief under their employ stiffed me, he owes me a lot of coin and I want my fair dues. If you know where I can find the guild then I'll pray you to send me on my way, Sir."
	"Very well, very well, let it be on your own head then young master elf. You'll find the guildhouse at the foot of the wall, as far East as the streets will take you, the sign shows a hand grasping at a coinpurse. They're well used to visitors seeking compensation for their stolen property, calm your temper and make sure they know that you have other business with them."
	"The foot of the Eastern wall? Thank you for the help," Telaim said. "You operate this tavern, yes?"
	"Aye, this is my establishment, best service in the Eastern district."
	"When I get back I'll need a room with a bed, and some hot food, I trust you can accommodate me?"
	"Of course young master, if you have the coin to pay for it then you'll find no warmer bed and no more satisfying meals this side of the shadow."
	At that Telaim left through the heavy wooden door, the bar keeper's eyes widening as he glimpsed the snow-white alpaca that was leashed outside. He waited for a few more moments, wanting to be sure that Telaim had set off down the street before stepping out from behind the counter, making his way through the dingy tavern towards a man who was sitting in a corner. He had a red hood obscuring his face, lined with gold trim, cast in shadow where the dull light from the oil lamps that hung from the ceiling could not reach him.
	"That was him, that's the guy," he stammered as he leaned in to whisper hurriedly to the hooded figure. "The man with the fluffy white pack animal."
	"He is not the one that we seek," the hooded man replied softly, "but his possession of that animal cannot be mere coincidence. You are sure that you saw it?"
	"Yes, absolutely, no question."
	"Then it is possible that this young elf knows the wherabouts of the animal's owner, the vagrant who stole Alizari property, he may even be returning it to him. What did he ask you?"
	"He wanted to know about the thieves guild, I gave him the directions and sent him to the East wall."
	"A thief...that would make sense, though I doubt that the guild would dare to cross us. What he stole was priceless, but relics that enter the city are forfeit to the library, even those that the thieves guild bring back. No, he acts of his own volition, and this elf surely knows more. I will relay this information to the masked man, he will want to handle this situation personally."
	The hooded man rose to his feet, his luxurious cloak billowing as he prepared to leave, the bar tender stepping back to let him pass.
	"I still get the reward, right? I'm the one who spotted the animal."
	"I will see to it that you are properly compensated," the robed figure assured him as he moved towards the door, the tobacco smoke seeming to part before him as the nervous tavern owner watched. He didn't like dealing with these Alizari, but it was more than his life was worth to hinder their investigations, at least with a purse full of coin he might be able to repair that damned sign.

	The masked man paced around his sanctum in the belly of the Alizarin library, his ornately gilded disguise reflecting the flickering candlelight, his gloved hands clasped behind his back as he considered this new information. He paused to lean on his elaborately carved desk, ancient tomes and field reports scattered about its mahogany surface, the walls lined with bookshelves and glass cabinets that contained relics and artifacts of all shapes and sizes.
	They knew that the thief had travelled West with the golden woman, and that he was known for the strange pack animal that he kept, but they had lost track of him at the edge of the desert band. Now that animal had arrived in the city, but without the hooded vagrant, instead it was in the company of a young elf boy.
	It couldn't be accidental, he needed to get to the bottom of this, he had to bring that elf in for questioning and find out what he knew. One way or another. The Alizari had failed to capture the thief back at the trading town, he couldn't take the chance of this opportunity slipping through his fingers, these people were more evasive than he could have predicted. He would only trust this mission with his right hand, his most devoted adherent, the paladin Alexandra.
	Born of a noble family, and raised in the heart of the city in the midst of its relics and treasures, she had devoted herself to the service of the Goddess and the Alizarin order. She was a fervent believer and a zealous enforcer, clad in fine armor bestowed upon her as a gift by her late father, and she wielded a weapon of great power that had been entrusted to her by the priests. She was unwavering in her loyalty, and anything he tasked her with, he knew would be done. Alexandra could be a little...overindulgent when it came to smiting the enemies of the order, and so he preferred to only send her on missions outside the walls of the city. This was an emergency though, they couldn't afford to lose this lead, and she was the only one he trusted to get the job done.
	He sent a servant to fetch her, and before long he could hear her heavy footfalls as she mounted the steps outside his office, her armor clanking as she opened the sturdy oak door. She took a knee, shaking the bookshelves, bowing her head as her blonde locks cascaded over her face.
	"I came at once, my Lord, what would you ask of me?"
	She wore a suit of regal armor in the style of their order, heavy steel plates painted the color of red wine, with golden trim that reflected the light. It was scuffed here and there, chipped paint and battle damage proving its utility beyond simple decoration. This was not a ceremonial piece, it had stopped many a blade, and the intimidation factor was significant too. While form-fitting, the thick armor filled out her otherwise feminine figure, the pauldrons giving her broad shoulders and the cuirass obscuring her bust. Were it not for her lovely features, one might have mistaken the hulking woman for a man.
	Alexandra was a tall woman, of noble stock with long, straw-colored hair and blue eyes that almost reminded him of the Goddess herself. Her skin was pale and her lips rosy, but despite her beauty, courting suitors was the last thing on her mind. She lived for battle, her massive war hammer ever present, a relic bestowed upon her by the Alizari with a head the size of a smith's anvil. The gilded weapon was of such scale and weight that no human should have been able to lift it unaided, but as with all relics it had hidden properties, and its mass seemed to change when the need arose as if some invisible hand was helping the wielder to carry it. It hung from her back on a sling as if it weighed no more than a feather, but once in her gauntleted hands, it would hit like a block of masonry dropped from the battlements. This delighted Alexandra, for she saw in it a manifestation of the Goddess, as if the deity herself guided her blows.
	"Rise, Alexandra, I have a mission for you." She stood, her armor large enough to fill the doorway, her cheeks flushed red in anticipation as she waited for his order. "There is a person of interest in the shadow district, a young elf boy who travels with a strange pack animal, the owner of which we believe to be the thief who stole the aspect of the Goddess from under our noses at the trading town."
	Her blue eyes flashed with anger, but the masked man raised a gloved hand to calm her fury, there would be ample time for that later.
	"This is a sensitive assignment, I need information from this elf, which means that you must take him alive. If there is to be any fighting, and of that I cannot be sure, it will be in cramped streets and in close proximity to civilians. While those that inhabit the Eastern district are mostly criminals and panhandlers, unworthy of your mercy, do refrain from demolishing their homes and crushing their bones into a fine powder. It doesn't win us any favor with the locals."
	"And what of the boy? May I be the one to interrogate him?"
	"I wouldn't have it any other way, my dear Alexandra, do what you must to get him to divulge his secrets but don't damage him such that he cannot speak afterwards. We may yet have use for him, his relation to the thief is not yet obvious, and we may be able to bait a trap if we discover that he holds some importance to this vagrant."
	Her face lit up at that, radiant and eager, her smile would have melted the heart of any eligible noble or landowner the world over. She served a higher purpose however, called to her duties as if the very Goddess who helped to lift her hammer whispered encouragements in her ear, driving her towards ever greater feats of religious fervor. There was an element of cruelty to Alexandra that the masked man had not failed to notice, she delighted in carnage and inflicting suffering upon the enemies of her Goddess, to a point that it sometimes disturbed even him. But he knew that she did it through love, it was an oddly doting and tender cruelty, and as long as she could keep it directed at their enemies then he would indulge her.
	"It will be done, my Lord."

	Telaim arrived at the guildhouse, the painted wooden sign featuring a hand reaching towards a coinpurse hanging above the gnarled door. The building was squat with a low ceiling, and didn't look large enough to house one family of paupers, let alone serve as the headquarters for a prominent guild. He stared at the structure in confusion, playing his eyes over the bowed roof that looked about ready to cave in on itself, and the filthy windows that looked as if they had never been cleaned. It leaned against the city wall, which towered far above, extending up into the sky such that Telaim had to crane his neck to see the battlements.
	This couldn't be right, had the tavern owner misled him? He marched forward, his boots splashing in the mud and squalor, finding a post to tie the alpaca to and then pushing open the wooden door. It was warped by damp and disrepair, the hinges creaking as he passed through the threshold and blinked his eyes against the darkness, waiting for them to adjust.
	He was met by two men clad in leather armor, their hands hovering near the daggers on their hips, guards of some kind obviously. The taller of the two placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him, cocking his head as he looked down at the little elf.
	"What's yer business with the guild?"
	Telaim remembered what the bar tender had told him, that many a man had come this way in search of stolen property, and how he had implied that they didn't return. He chose his words carefully.
	"I seek a member of the guild who owes me a debt, he ran out on a payment and I'm looking for clues as to his whereabouts."
	The two guards looked at eachother for a moment, then the taller one shrugged and waved him though, Telaim walking past them as he made his way further into the guild. It was indeed small and cramped, like a run-down cottage, infested with damp and dark enough that he could scarcely see a few paces in front of him. Between the shadow cast by the wall outside, and the windows obscured by dirt, the only light came from a few dim oil lamps that hung from the crooked rafters.
	He came to the end of the room, this was all there was, he had crossed the space in mere moments. There was another door at the back of the crumbling dwelling through, this one painted the same white as the masonry that made up the wall, and decorated with a brass knob that had been polished to a mirror finish. He took it in his hand and turned it, opening the door to a flood of warm, yellow light. He stepped through into another world, the squalid cottage had just been a front, the real guild was located inside the city wall itself and extended deep into the structure. It was like a bazaar inside, stalls and shops built into the far side of the wall were selling their wares as people milled about along the line, fencing stolen goods no doubt. There was a second level up above them, a wooden walkway accessed via spiral staircases that were spaced along it at intervals, as if someone had split a highstreet down the middle and then stacked the two halves one on top of another.
	Being hollow inside, the wall extended far above his head into shadow, reinforcing wooden beams and supports that looked like they had been hewn from entire trees criss-crossing between the two sides, chandeliers and lamps hanging from them to give the illusion of a starfield as they cast their glow on the people below.
	Now 'this' was a guildhouse.
	He made his way along the line of market stalls, feeling as if he was backstage at some kind of theater production, looking for someone who looked official who might be able to help him. Most of the people who were crowding the walkways looked as if they were either selling or buying stolen wares, this must be how they operated. It was a black market that turned the riskiest part of stealing, selling the goods after the fact, from an act carried out in hushed whispers in dingy back alleys to one that was as safe and open as visiting a market. It was legal here of course, the guild had license from the government to operate, as long as they kept their thieving outside of the city.
	One could sell a stolen trinket here without fear of reprisal, buy ill-gotten goods at reduced prices, or take out a contract to have something acquired. It seemed that business was booming.
	Telaim finally spotted a stall that wasn't like the others, it was built from stone the same as the wall, rather than wood and colorful fabrics. It seemed more permenant, and so he approached, peering up over a small wooden counter at a portly man who was sitting behind a pane of glass. He looked more like a bank clerk than any kind of thief that Telaim had ever seen, and he cleared his throat to get the man's attention. He leaned over to get a better look at the little elf, straightening a pair of round spectacles.
	"Is there something that I can hep you with, boy?"
	Telaim held his tongue, resisting the urge to shoot back with a cutting remark about the old man's weight, he didn't much appreciate being referred to as 'boy'. Instead he thought it better to get directly to the point, the sooner he concluded his business here, the sooner he could get back to the tavern and claim the soft bed and the hot meal that the owner had promised him.
	"I hope so. I've come here looking for someone, a member of the guild who stiffed me, I wondered if you knew anything about his whereabouts?"
	"I might remind you, young Sir, that the guild is not in the business of returning stolen goods to those who come looking. Our operations here are perfectly legal, and we are under no obligation to compensate those who feel they have been wronged by the organization."
	"You do work for the guild then? Good," Telaim grumbled, finally someone who might know something that could be of use to him. "I'm not here searching for stolen goods. I was robbed, no doubt about that, but by way of one of your guild members running out on a payment. A man by the name of Valentin visited a brothel in a trading town to the East of the desert band some weeks ago. After waving around a large purse of coins, he was given the best room in the house, and requested the best service along with it. That's what he got, but rather than paying what was owed, he fled the building and took his money with him."
	The man watched him as he talked, obviously not understanding how this story related to him or the guild, and so Telaim thought it best to elaborate.
	"The thieves guild prides itself on honoring contracts with its customers, yes? Your entire operation relies on building trust and goodwill, the very nature of your work requires it, if there is no honor among the thieves then you would lose all credibility and likely your license along with it. Someone representing your organization broke a contract, defrauding a business of a large sum on money, and I'm trying to track him down."
	The man seemed to consider for a moment.
	"I can always go to the authorities instead," Telaim added.
	"Very well, I'll take a look through the contracts and see if I can find any in the name of 'Valentin', but it may take a while. You can take a seat on the benches behind you while you wait."
	Telaim did as he was instructed, sitting down on a row of wooden benches on the far side of the wall that must have been intended either for customers taking out new contracts, or thieves turning them in. Hopefully there would be some record of Valentin, and Telaim would be able to track the bastard down.

	Alexandra marched through the shadow district with her entourage in tow, her armor clanking as they headed East towards the thieves guild, in search of her quarry. She had no love of the thieves, their presence here in the city was an affront to all those of good character, but they served a crucial purpose as artifact hunters. More often than not those who found the ancient relics were not members of the Alizarin order, and not faithful to their cause, the collectors and the curious were sometimes unwilling to part with them even for a fair price. Where the Alizari couldn't buy the relics, they would employ thieves to steal them, though she didn't think of it as theft because all relics in the world belonged to the order by divine right. The private ownership of one was a temporary affair and it would not be permitted to last long. Unfortunately the reach of the faithful was not infinite, and their network of informants was not without holes, they would probably never retrieve every relic that existed in the world. The thought of heretics and lowly merchants trafficking such holy artifacts filled her with sorrow and anger, but all that she could do was her best to serve the order, and no more.
	The Goddess knew the work that Alexandra did in her name. She was often present, either in spirit to help lift her massive hammer or in her heart, guiding her emotions and filling her with a palpable lust for battle. Nothing made her happier than doing the Goddess' work, smiting her enemies and rooting out heretics, forcing them to confess to their misdeeds as the Goddess' love warmed her body like a fire.
	She would make this elf talk too, he would tell her everything that he knew about this thieving vagrant who had stolen an aspect of the Goddess herself. It was intolerable, she could scarcely think of it without wanting to smash the nearby dwellings into rubble with her hammer, to not only steal a relic from the order but to abscond with an animate aspect of the deity's holy wisdom. The masked man had shared the information with few but his closest circle of trusted advisors, the aspect had been walking and speaking, as if the golden statue had been imbued with life. If word was to get out it might cause a panic in the order, the faithful might see it as some kind of ill omen and act drastically, others might abandon their duties and take to prayer and adulation instead.
	Alexandra was one of the highest ranked members of the order, and she was in the masked man's confidence, she knew the truth of the matter. Every one hundred years an aspect of the Goddess appeared somewhere in the world, a golden woman of unparalleled beauty who recited ancient secrets to the attending scholars, revealing new magics and technologies that furthered the order's understanding of the world and of its history by leaps and bounds. Theirs was a Goddess of knowledge, of whispered secrets and ancient lore, imparting her wisdom to the faithful so that they might elevate humanity above its unholy state of being.
	The aspects spoke their secrets, but they did not rise to their feet and walk about, they did not behave as if they were imbued with a human spirit. They had no wants or desires beyond spreading the holy word.
	Alexandra had waited her whole life for such an event, it was her greatest aspiration, to witness one of the aspects for herself and to attend the ceremony as it spoke of times long past. She longed to bear witness to the physical manifestation of her Goddess, but this was wrong, this wasn't how the long-awaited event was supposed to proceed. It was this vagrant's fault no doubt, he had done something to interrupt the Goddess' plan, and when Alexandra finally tracked him down no pleas of mercy would move her.
	She reached the thieves guild and ordered her men to take refuge in an alley with a view of the entrance, she would wait for the elf here, and when he emerged she would spring her trap.

	Telaim left the guildhouse frustrated, the clerk had been able to find a handful of Valentin's old contracts, but he hadn't managed to find any information as to his current whereabouts. The thief hadn't taken a new contract in weeks, and as far as anyone could tell he was a vagrant, wandering from town to town with no permenant residence that could be located. All Telaim had to go on now was an old acquaintance of Valentin's, a pirate who operated out of the seaport on the Western side of the city, they were frequently seen together and the man's name was on a few of the contracts.
	This was the only lead he had left, if the trail went cold here then he might actually have to abandon his search, the thought of letting that arrogant bastard win made his stomach churn. He tugged the alpaca along behind him, as much as her presence inconvenienced him, she was a good pack animal and she was starting to grow on him.
	As he passed by a dark alley, damp and filthy as it was cast in endless shadow by the wall, someone took him from behind and covered his mouth with a gloved hand. His cry of surprise muffled, he struggled against his assailant but to no avail, whoever this was they were large and strong. He fumbled for his steletto knife, but he felt a firm grip around his wrist preventing it, more than one pair of hands restraining him as they dragged him deeper into the alley. He was thrown violenty to the mud, rising to his feet unsteadily as he wiped the muck from his face and tunic, turning to face his captors.
	There were half a dozen  men clad in red robes, Alizari no doubt, and in their midst was standing a giant armored figure. It was a woman, a large one, clad in a massive suit of red armor save for her head. She wore no helmet, and her golden hair spilled down her enormous pauldrons, seeming to shine even in the gloom. She was out of place here, she was a noble for sure and her armor was the same color as the red robes that the Alizari wore, complete with the gold trim. He wasn't being robbed or raped, these people wanted something else from him. The woman's cheeks were flushed pink, but not from exertion, what the hell was this?
	"What do you want from me?" Telaim demanded of the woman, trying to appear unpurturbed. She was obviously their leader, some kind of knight or general maybe. He had his knife after all, and his street smarts, he wasn't completely defenseless. If she got too close he could plant the stiletto blade in her eye in the time it took her to move in that oversized suit of armor. He had dropped the Alpaca's lead, hopefully the beast wouldn't wander off too far.
	"I want information," she announced, "on the whereabouts of your thief friend."
	She thought he was in league with Valentin? Why? Because he was traveling with the man's pack animal? Maybe because he had been seen asking after him? If the vagrant had stolen something from the Alizari then he could be in real trouble, these people didn't do anything in half measures.
	"You're mistaken," Telaim replied carefully, the last thing he wanted to do was anger this person. She had a hammer slung across her back that looked as large as he was. "I'm searching for this thief too, he goes by the name of Valentin, and he owes me a large sum of money."
	She cocked her head at him, her eyes narrowing, she was blocking the alley with her huge bulk so that he had very little chance of getting past her and her men should he decide to flee. They had the same goal though, they were both searching for Valentin, perhaps they could even help eachother if Telaim played his cards right.
	"Yet you travel with his pack animal, the one he left behind when he fled the trading town with the aspect, do you return it to him?"
	"Aspect?" Telaim asked, confused. "What is that? I was robbed in that trading town, he ran out on a payment, after he fled the town I took his pack animal as collateral and set off in persuit."
	"Convenient, you claim to be innocent, and yet you were both present when our relic was stolen. You know the man's name and now you reappear with his property in tow, returning to his guildhouse, but you did not find him here?"
	"I don't know the man," Telaim insisted, growing frustrated. "He wronged me too, I only came here to get my money back. No, he isn't here, I checked."
	"I think you know more than you're telling me, little elf," she replied. There was something off about her, she was breathing heavily as if she had been exerting herself, her pale cheeks were reddening and she was staring at him. He had seen that look before in the eyes of his clients, it was desire, anticipation. "Tell me, are you one of the faithful?"
	"Faithful? To what?"
	"To the Goddess of course."
	"I...suppose so, I've never really had much time for spiritual persuits." He suspected that it wasn't the wisest answer, but if she were to quiz him about the faith, she'd know he was lying and that would be far worse.
	She took a few steps closer to him, her heavy boots sinking an inch into the mud, forcing him backwards until his back pressed up against the cold stone of a cul de sac.
	"I don't believe you," she whispered. "The Goddess speaks to me, I feel her boundless love warming me, and she wants me to uncover your secrets. You're a liar and a heretic." She wet her lips as she drew closer to him, and Telaim had serviced enough female clients to know an aroused woman when he saw one. What was this? Was she some kind of crazed fanatic, or was this just an excuse to sate her desires, whatever they might be?
	"My Goddess abhors liars, she is a bringer of truth, she hates deciet and I feel the heat of her anger rising in me when I look at you. You can lie all you want, but I'll get the truth out of you, I'll punish you for your trangressions myself."
	Telaim tried to dart between her legs, but she caught him by the collar of his tunic, throwing him back against the wall with enough force to daze him. One of her consorts handed her a rope from a pouch on his belt, and she gripped his wrists in one of her armored hands, holding them above his head as she tied them together. There was an iron bolt in the wall a foot above him, hammered between the stone for some forgotten purpose, and she knotted the other end around it to leave him hanging against the damp stonework. His toes barely touched the ground, and the course rope was already burning his skin, as he came back to his senses he realized that she had completely immbobilized him.
	"We want the same thing," he insisted, straining against the rope but to no avail. "I can help you track Valentin down, you can get back whatever he stole from you, and I can get my money!"
	"I'll know the truth soon enough," she muttered, shooting him a look that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Was she really about to torture him? Telaim had been with clients who had some odd tastes, sadomasochists and the like, but the prospect of being tortured for information that he couldn't provide made him break out in a cold sweat.
	She barked an order at the hooded figures and they began to remove her red armor as he watched, first the massive pauldrons which they held for her, apparently concerned with dirtying them. She removed her gauntlets, and handed them to the robed figures, and then two of them stepped forward to help her out of her heavy suit. These must be her squires, the armor was so large and complex that she would not have been able to put it on or take it off on her own, if she was truly a noblewoman then she would have dedicated servants to help her. It took them a couple of minutes, but they eventually freed her, leaving the surprisingly slight woman standing unprotected.
	Beneath her armor she wore a simple linen shirt and pants dyed the same red as her armor, no doubt to stop it from chafing her, she was standing the mud in her stockings with no reservations. It must have soaked through to her toes, but it didn't seem to bother her, she was too fixated on Telaim.
	"Leave me," she demanded of her entourage, and the men bowed their hooded heads as they started to retreat back down the alley and out of sight. "I need to be alone, so that I might better interpret the wishes of the Goddess..."
	Once her men had left them alone, she reached out and began to unbutton the tunic that he wore beneath his jacket, ripping it open to expose his naked chest. She ran her slim fingers across his pale skin, and he couldn't help but notice that her nails were clean and manicured. She must be a noble, perhaps some higher up in the order, but there was something more to her than that. Something disturbing that set off alarm bells in his head.
	"I've never interrogated an elf before," she mused as she stroked his smooth flesh with her fingers, trailing down towards his belly before pulling her hand away. "Are you more or less sensitive to pain than a human, I wonder?"
	"You're making a mistake," he said, panic setting in. "I am not your enemy, Valentin has wronged us both! Release me and I'll help you to find him!"
	"Before long all of your secrets will be laid bare, and you won't need to tell me anything. If what you say is true then I will know soon enough, boy."
	She would have tortured him no matter what he had said to her, that much was obvious in the way that her bust rose and fell beneath her undershirt, the way her cheeks were rosy with excitement. She was beyond reason, with a look in her eye that was almost loving, and that was what scared him the most. She really did believe that she had a divine purpose, as if her lust and sadism were sanctioned by the Goddess.
	She dragged her nails down from his chest to his belly, making him buck as he hung from the wall, leaving red welts in his soft skin as she watched his reaction intently with her blue eyes.
	"Sensitive boy, this shouldn't take long, unlike some you'll spill your secrets long before you spill your guts. Tell me, what is your profession? Your body is..." She bit her lip as she played her eyes over his slender form, "well maintained for someone who associates with thieves and scoundrels."
	"I'm not a thief," he spat, "I'm a...I work in a brothel."
	"Hardly better," she mumbled as she traced her fingers lightly over his ribs, the contrasting sensations making him squirm as he fought against his bonds. "I have pledged myself to the Goddess, body and soul, I am untouched by men and I will remain so until she claims my spirit on the day of my departure from this mortal realm."
	Many noblewomen remained virgins until they could be married off to other nobles, and this woman couldn't be more than twenty, she might not even know what the ache in her loins and the hammering in her chest meant. Was it possible that she had mistaken arousal and sexual gratification for the manifestation of her Goddess' love? It didn't bode well for him.
	"I can show you that love," she said, leaning closer to him and whispering softly in his pointed ear. "You'll feel it too, your pain will redeem you and then you'll understand why I'm doing this, everything I do is in service of her."
	She wrapped her slim fingers around his neck suddenly, her grip surprisingly strong, Telaim beginning to choke as she gripped his throat and dug her nails into his skin.
	"Don't bother begging for mercy, I'll know when you're ripe and ready to talk."
	She released him, leaving him gasping for air, eyes watering as a bruise spread across his neck. Her robed servants had left a large leather pouch on a nearby crate for her, and she moved over to it, opening the flap to rummage through its contents. She withdrew what looked like a coil of black rope, and for a moment Telaim assumed that she was going to further restrain him with it, before he realized that it was a whip. She unfurled the coil of bound leather, of an intimidating length as it lay on the ground, the handle grasped in her pale fist. The tip was split into several smaller sections, as if it were frayed, but Telaim had seen this kind of tool before and knew what it was. Some of his clients had brought whips with them, to use on him, or expecting him to use it on them. Most were not capable of doing serious damage and were only sex aids for the depraved, but this one looked lethal, and the woman's face seemed to light up as she noticed the flash of fear in his eyes.
	"We use this to punish soldiers," she said, "we give them lashes for failing in their duties or for insubordination. I am quite adept with it, I can kiss your skin with its tails, or flay you alive as I wish. It all depends on you, and how truthful you are."
	She cracked it loudly a sound like a thunder clap echoing in the alleyway, and Telaim nearly jumped out of his skin.

[TELAIM GETS TORTURED, ESCAPES TOWARDS DOCKS, INSRT SCENE]

***

	Meradu pottered along behind Val and Jas, his stumpy legs having trouble keeping up with their longer strides, the human and his ambulatory relic clad in dark robes that concealed their features. The mushroom wore nothing besides the belt of tools and scholarly equipment that hung around his waist along with a pack that was slung over his shoulders, the Chanterelle having no modesty to preserve. The great walls of the city rose before them, ornately decorated with pillars and statues, guards patrolling atop the battlements as the crowds milled about in the shadow below.
	Jas peeked from beneath her dark hood, her blue eyes glowing with cold fire, and brushed a golden strand of hair out of her face with a gloved hand. They were taking no risks this time, her whole body was covered from head to toe, only a glimpse of her face visible beneath a long hood that obscured her features. Were the sunlight to catch even a stray ankle or finger, their presence might be revealed to the Alizari who were out for their blood, the whole city would be on watch for the Aspect as they referred to her.
	They had no choice but to brave the city however, because their only way to cross the sea and reach the land of the Song, was an old acquaintance of  Val's. He was a pirate who operated out of the seaport to the West of the city, and had employed Val's services in the past.
	"They built this city on the ruins of New Janeiro," she muttered, "I wonder how much of it remains beneath these structures."
	"This place was full of relics," Meradu added hurriedly, jogging to match pace with her. "Scholars still find artifacts while exploring the extensive catacombs that lie beneath the city, that is why the seat of government was built here, and why the Alizarin order calls it home."
	"It must have survived much of the initial fallout," she mused, "I wonder why their countermeasures remained active longer than those of the other cities. We'll probably never know now."
	"What was this city like in your day?" Meradu asked, scrambling to retrieve his notepad and some charcoal from a pouch on his hip. He poised over the parchment, ready to take notes, and looked up at Jaswinder expectantly. She rolled her eyes, but decided to humor him.
	"When our people came here, we founded great cities, named after those that we had called home before setting out. This was one such city, one of the first that was built after our arrival, it was not my home but I had visited it many times. The Ancients built taller than the modern occupants know how to, there were so many people where we had come from, that we often lacked the space to expand outward and so were forced to build up. Most of our buildings were made from metal and glass, but I suppose that even the strongest alloys eventually succumb to the inexorable march of time, I don't see even one of the original buildings still standing.
	"How large were they?" Meradu asked, fascinated by the concept. Jas took a few moments before replying, as if doing calculations in her head.
	"Some approaching a league in height."
	"A league!? Amazing! It must have been magnificent, towers made from glass that touched the sky, they must have been visible from great distances."
	"You can't build a house a league tall," Val commented, his tone dismissive. "It would fall over."
	"Oh how the mighty have fallen," Jas muttered, "with a name like Valentin your ancestors probably hailed from Samara. Glad to see that their cynicism has endured the ages."
	"You must describe this to me in greater detail when we have the time," Meradu said excitedly, the trio passing beneath the shadow of the wall as they approached the massive gates.
	"Quiet now," Valentin warned, pulling his hood lower over his face. "If anyone asks, we're traders here to hock our wares, not a word out of you Jas or your voice might give us away."
	They merged with a larger caravan that was passing into the city, doing their best to vanish, hiding in plain sight. There was one pair of eyes that could not be fooled by cloaks and crowds however, tracking them from afar, the glass eyes of his relic armor magnifying his vision and picking out Jaswinder amongst the traders. Her body glowed like a white flame against the far darker figures that surrounded her, and he rose from his knees  to stand on the lip of a sand dune, the overlapping scales of his white armor glinting in the sunlight as his vision returned to normal and the city became but a mirage on the horizon. The Oracle whispered in his ear, as if it were inside his very helmet, its voice dripping with malice and urgency.
	"Kill the golden woman."

***

	Telaim fled down the street, the alpaca's lead clasped in his hand, pulling the creature along as his boots splashed in the mud. He could hear the Alizari close behind him, the clanking of that vile woman's armor, adrenaline coursing through his veins as if flames were licking at his heels. He would not allow himself to be captured again, not by her, she was out of her mind.
	He fled in the only direction that he could, the only lead that he had been able to find in this wretched hovel, Westward towards the seaport and Valentin's contact. The contact was in league with pirates and thieves, he would be no friend of the authorities, with any luck he might harbor Telaim with the promise of later payment once he found Valentin. Curse that damned vagrant, if he had just paid what was owed, Telaim would still be back at the brothel. It wasn't glamorous work, but he enjoyed it, it was far better than being harried by the bastard's many enemies in this pigsty of a city.
	He left the shadow of the wall, and entered a better lit and maintained district of the city, the houses here less disheveled and the ground all but clear of mud and refuse. He spotted the crowds of traders and travelers that congested the main street that led from the city gates up to the market district, and he dashed into the herd, hoping that his slight frame might be concealed by the numbers of jostling merchants. It would have worked, and he might have been able to slip away from the pursuing fanatics, was it not for the alpaca.
	Snow-white and with fur that resembled a cloud, it stood with its long neck protruding from the masses of people, a beacon that would be impossible for the Alizari to miss. As long as he kept the dumb beast with him, it would betray him to his enemies, yet if he were to abandon it he would lose any leverage that he had over Valentin were he to track the thief down. He had come so far, endured so much, would he be forced to abandon his search?
	He tried to push deeper into the crowd, hearing the angry calls of the robed men in the distance as they reached the main street, Telaim too short to see over the traders as he imagined the crimson-clad zealots gesturing and calling to their fellows. The alpaca made his progress a little faster, groups of traders parting to let the beast pass, and he continued on his way towards the docks as he used the gleaming tower in the city center to guide him.

***

	Valentin smelled the familar scent of salt on the air, the calls of seabirds audible over crashing waves, and as he rounded the corner of a building the harbor came into view. There were dozens of large ships and scores of smaller fishing boats, some moored to the docks and others bobbing out on the sea, a forest of masts adorned with sails and flapping flags in all manner of colors and patterns. Captains displayed their heraldry on the giant sheets of fabric, some bore coats of arms or vibrant designs that might indicate a port of origin or the alliegance of the owner, others were simply decorative and designed to impress. His companions stopped for a moment to admire the scenery, even Jaswinder apparently impressed by the colors and banners, if only for a moment.
	"You're sure that your 'friend' can get us across the ocean?" Jas asked skeptically, keeping her melodic voice low so that bystanders couldn't overhear. They had been lucky so far, nobody had stopped them for inspection on their way into the city, and they had so far encountered no Alizari. It was almost as if the usually ubiquitous organization was occupied with something else.
	"Yes, he's reliable," Val replied in a hushed voice. "I've done him favors in the past and he owes me at least one or two. Follow me, he lives in a cabin down by the docks, with any luck he isn't out raiding the ring sea for plunder."
	"Halt!"
	The three companions turned their heads, looking around for the source of the angry voice, fearing that their presence had been discovered. It didn't seem to be directed at them however, there was a commotion happening behind them, in the direction of the main street that led up the city center and the market district. Figures robed in the red attire of the Alizari were pushing through the crowds, a good distance from where Val and his friends were standing, but no less of a concern. The last thing they needed right now was to be caught up in some altercation between the Alizari and whoever they were pursuing, not when they were so close to leaving the mainland behind, and the religious order along with it.
	"Hurry," Val whispered as he took Jas by the arm and began to lead her towards and alley, "come this way. We'll stay out of sight between the houses and move down to the pier, once we're there we can-"
	He stopped, his eyes locking onto something in the distance, a white shape moving amongst the crowds of traders. It couldn't be...it was! As it came into focus he saw the long neck and the fluffy coat, his beloved pack animal emerging from the bustling people, on its way towards him as it was led by a cloaked figure that he didn't recognize.
	"Anastasia!" He hissed, doing his best to prevent himself from shouting out her name and running over to her.
	"Val, what is it?" Jaswinder asked, "what do you see?"
	Before she got an answer he was away, slinking off in the direction of his alpaca, and towards whatever ruckus was being caused by the Alizari. Jas called after him, fearing to raise her voice too loudly, cursing under her breath as the impulsive thief vanished into the shadows. She took Meradu by his stumpy arm and pulled him along behind her, setting off after him.

***

	Telaim burst from the crowd, the Alizari calling out to their fellows as they pursued him, having more trouble navigating the horde of shuffling merchants than he did with his pack animal. They were still right behind him, he had to try and evade them in the maze of alleys and side streets, perhaps he could slip off the main road before they pushed past the citizenry and emerged on the near side of the street.
	As he turned his head frantically, searching for the nearest opening, he heard a voice cry out.
	"Anastasia!"
	The alpaca stood to attention, its head pivoting on its long neck as its dark eyes scanned the environment, Telaim confused by its sudden alertness. The stupid creature had scarcely so much as blinked during their trek here, he had been starting to believe that it was somehow brain damaged.
	"Ana, come here girl!"
	The beast broke free of its lead, tearing it from Telaim's hand as it barreled off down the street towards the source of the shouting, the young elf cursing and giving chase. Everything was falling apart. He hadn't found Valentin at the thieves guild, the Alizari had mistaken him for one of the vagrant's cohorts, and now his ransom was cantering away from him at full tilt.
	As he chased it down the street, he saw it run into the arms of a cloaked figure, braying excitedly as he sank his hands into its soft wool. No, it couldn't be, there was no way. He watched the figure pull back his hood, the alpaca reaching down to nuzzle his face, and Telaim's heart skipped a beat.
	That dark hair and those roguish features, the scrabbly beard that lined his square jaw, it was Valentin. No doubt about it. After all this time and all this trouble, he had come across the thief randomly in the street, and now he had half of the Alizarin order on his tail. If he led them right to Valentin, would he be able to plead his case and show those religious fanatics that they were not in league? Probably not, the Paladin seemed bent on torturing him for her own sick pleasure, regardless of what evidence he provided to clear his name.
	There was nothing for it, he had come here to find Valentin, and he wasn't about to let the bastard slip through his fingers now.

***

	Val's emotional reunion was interrupted by a furious cry, and he pulled his face from his companion's white wool to look past her, seeing a short figure booking it in his direction. Whoever it was they were angry, Valentin had more enemies than he could count, and this might be any number of people that he had stolen from or wronged in the past. Jilted lovers, vengeful marks, in his experience it was better not to find out.
	He turned and set off back in the direction of the docks, only to be accosted by Jaswinder and Meradu, the angry woman pulling him aside and into an alleyway as Anastasia followed close behind him.
	"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Jas hissed, her glowing eyes wide with anger as they peered out from beneath her hood. "Are you 'trying' to give us away to the Alizari? We're a short walk from a ship that might ferry us to the far shore, and you're putting the whole planet and the fate of your species in jeopardy...for what? A fucking llama?"
	"Anastasia is an alpaca," he said, her golden face twisting into an expression of outrage at the correction.
	"I don't care what it is," she exclaimed, balling her fists in frustration. "I am 'this' close to throwing you into the sea and letting the mushroom take your place, the mushroom is more competent than you are you...you...mah-der chod!"
	Before Val could ask what the insult meant he heard another angry exclamation from the mouth of the alley, a short, equally furious figure advancing towards them and unsheathing a stiletto knife the width of a quill from his belt.
	"I've finally found you!" His voice was smoky and oddly feminine, familiar to Val's ears, and he struggled to remember where he had heard it.  The cloaked figure threw back his hood, revealing the sharp, attractive features of a young Elf. He had brown hair and doe eyes, pale skin as smooth as silk and the trademark, pointed ears of his race. Val couldn't believe his eyes, he recognized this boy, it was the Elf from the brothel back in the trading town. He stood aghast, not comprehending how or why the Elf was here.
	"I know you," Val said.
	"Damn right you know me, you cheating, thieving-"
	"Who is this?" Jaswinder asked, distracted from her tirade momentarily.
	"My name is Telaim, and Valentin skipped out on his payment, this bastard owes me a whole lot of money and if he doesn't pay up he's going to be losing a lot more than his coin." The boy brandished the knife, twirling it expertly in his fingers, no stranger to collecting debts it seemed. Jas looked to Val accusingly, Meradu hopping nervously from one foot to another, not sure what to make of the situation.
	"Payment for what, Val?" Jaswinder demanded, her angelic voice doing little to make her sound any less menacing. The Elf answered before he could come up with an excuse, advancing towards them as he brandished his tiny knife.
	"He robbed a brothel is what he did, don't you know what kind of scum you're associating with? He asked for the best service in the house and then escaped through a window before paying up, didn't even take the time to put his trousers back on. I tracked him across the desert and I want my money, or his balls to use as a purse, either way I'm taking what's owed to me."
	Jas stood with her mouth agape, beyond anger now as she glared at Val, the thief shrinking away from her as if fearing that she might strike him. Before she could utter so much as a curse, the alley was darkened by yet another figure, this one tall and wide enough to cast them into shadow. They turned to look, Val bristling and Telaim loosing a frightened gasp as he spun around, an armored giant wielding a hammer the size of a man catching its breath as it blocked their only escape route. As it stepped into view, Val noticed that it was a woman, a beautiful one at that. Her long, blonde hair cascaded about her flushed cheeks as she fixed her eyes on the Elf. She wore an impressive suit of armor, painted in the red and gold of the Alizari, the pauldrons alone large enough that they must have been uncomfortably heavy.
	"Found you, you little pest, now there's no escape from-"
	She seemed to start when she noticed the other people in the alley, and Telaim took his chance, pointing his knife accusingly at Val.
	"That's him! That's Valentin! That's the bastard who's the cause of all this. He'll tell you what you need to know, just make sure I get my money!"
	The armored woman lunged forward and grabbed the little Elf from behind, trapping him against her cuirass with an armored gauntlet as he flailed his legs and attempted to wriggle free of her.
	"Oh no, you fled straight to him, I'm taking all of you back to the library. We'll find out what's really going on here, once you've spent a few days in the dungeons." She turned her head to shout over her shoulder. "Over here! There's more of them!" She was answered by more shouting, she must have a contingent of Alizari with her, and now Val and his friends were cornered.
	She slowly fixed her gaze on Valentin, his confusion evident on his face, and her attractive features twisted into a crazed grin.
	"As for you, vagrant, your heresy will not go unpunished. Once I find out where you've stashed the stolen Aspect, your death will be one that befits the magnitude of your crimes against the Goddess, you'll feel her vengeance and her power through my righteous fury."
	A dozen Alizari, clad in their signiture red robes, crowded behind her as they arrived at the scene. They panted as if they had been running, brandishing their swords and axes as they flooded into the alleyway, barely able to squeeze past her suit of armor such was its width. Val didn't know what to do, he didn't have a plan, and as the three companions backed up towards the cul de sac he heard Jaswinder whisper to him.
	"Your cock has doomed the human race, I hope you're happy."
	Suddenly the wall behind them exploded into a cloud of dust and debris, throwing Val and Meradu off their feet and depositing them on the ground, a chunk of masonry bouncing off Jaswinder's metal body and another breaking against the chest of the armored woman. The Alizari were blown over, their leader forced to cover her face, staggering backwards under the force of the explosion. There was a second that tore apart the building to their left, raining pieces of broken stonework and splintered wood down on them, suffocating dust swirling as Val scrambled to his feet.
	"Run!" He shouted, stumbling to his feet and charging through the debris, unable to see more than a few paces in front of him but knowing that they had to take this chance to get away. As he cleared the smoke, his ears ringing, he turned to see the spectacle that was unfolding before him. The buildings, and the alley along with it, had been reduced to piles of smoldering rubble as if they had been dashed by lightning. Through the dust stepped a figure clad in gleaming white armor, layered like the scales of a lizard, a glowing relic like a metal tube in his hands that pulsed with arcane energies. It was the mercenary, he had survived their encounter in the desert, and now he had tracked them here. His relic armor was almost impervious to damage, and it seemed to have been somehow renewed, once again the band of light on his helmet shone with cold fire and he marched effortlessly as if the jointed suit weighed nothing.
	He pointed the relic at Jaswinder, her cloak torn away by the blasts to reveal her golden body, the weapon shimmering with blue light as the assassin prepared another attack. He was knocked off his feet as if a cannonball had hit him in the chest, thrown back into the rubble with a tremendous crash, his weapon loosing a bolt of blinding light into the sky as it discharged.
	The armored woman stood there, wielding an ornate hammer so large and so heavy that no mortal man should have been able to swing it, lifting it as if it weighed nothing. It must be a relic too, Val thought, its head was as large as his torso and appeared to have been crafted from fine gold. It was odd, unearthly, there were breaks and spaces in its design that seemed to be held together with nothing more than witchfire.
		She turned her head to gaze upon Jaswinder's exposed form, tears of adulation in her eyes as they played over the golden figure, as if she were staring into the face of a God.
	"The Aspect", she whispered, her awe apparent. "Praise be to the Goddess!"
	There was a flash of blue light, and another building was torn asunder, scattered pieces of stone raining on them. The assassin lunged at her, drawing a sword and taking advantage of her surprise to swing at her head, but she reacted in time and blocked him with the shaft of her great hammer. His sword rebounded harmlessly, vibrating as if it had struck stone, and she threw him backwards as she loosed a guttural cry that was unbecoming of such an attractive woman.
	The forces at play were titanic, far beyond a simple thief such as Val, and he took Jas by the arm as he began to lead her away from the battle. Meradu followed close behind them, his beady eyes locked to the duel that was unfolding in the ruined street, intent of gathering all of the information that he could.
	The lady knight called to Jas as they hurried towards the docks, extending her gauntleted hand as if reaching out to her, confusion and desperation in her eyes as the object of her worship fled from her.

***

	"Goddess! Wait!"
	Before Alexandra could give chase, the assassin charged into her, their armor clashing as she weathered the blow and turned her attention back to him. There was unbridled fury in her eyes, madness, the devotee spinning her war hammer in her hands as the two adversaries began to circle one another.
	"You will 'not' keep me from my holy duty, where have you come from? State your purpose!"
	The helmeted assassin scrutinized her through the glowing band, his armor still pristine and gleaming despite the dust that settled around him, as if the particles were somehow warded away from its ceramic surface by some invisible force. Hers was a masterwork, heavy and ornate, the thick steel painted in the crimson and gold of her order. There were guards to protect her neck and to deflect blows at the shoulders, chain mail rustling beneath the heavy plates, she was a golem of metal that would have been almost impervious to damage from any weapon that men could forge. The assassin's armor however was a relic, stronger and yet somehow lighter, built from materials that men had lost the knowledge of how to create. It was flexible, the scales moving independently of eachother to hug the form of his body, the ancient artifact could not have been hand crafted to fit him and yet it would appear that it did. It crackled with witchfire, flames without heat, arcane energies rippling through it to make it move and flex as if it has a life all its own.
	"This world is marked for death," he replied, his voice distorted by the helmet. "The Oracle has foreseen it, a great pestilence descends upon the land like a black cloud, before long the skies will darken and fire will pour from the heavens like rain. My only salvation lies in destroying the golden woman, I alone have been chosen, I will be spared the coming cleansing if I can accomplish my task in time. I will not let you stand in my way."
	"You seek...to destroy the Aspect? Heretic! My name is Alexandra, Paladin of the Alizarin order, and I will not suffer you to live a moment longer!"
	She charged at him, shockingly fast despite the heavy armor that burdened her, and she swung her hammer with enough force that it whistled through the air. The assassin ducked under the blow, lunging forwards and directing his blade at her belly, but it glanced off her thick armor, it would take a lot more than just a blade to penetrate it. She recovered and raised the war hammer over her head, loosing a battle cry as she brought it down, the assassin rolling out of the way a split second before it dug a crater into the ground. It kicked up a fountain of earth, digging a rut in the dirt as if a chunk of masonry had fallen from a battlement, its weight seeming to vary depending on the situation.
	The hammer was Alexandra's treasure, her most prized possession, valued even more than the armor that her noble house had bestowed upon her when she had sworn fealty to the Alizari. She had been meant to have it, she was sure of that, it was as if the Goddess herself had placed it in her hands and helped her to lift it in battle.
	This man, this creature, his goal was to destroy the Aspect and any divine knowledge that the golden effigy might have brought them along with it. It was the utmost heresy, a crime against the very nature of the universe, and her furious eyes burned into him with a hatred that could not have been understood by any but the faithful who had seen their icons desecrated.
	From the rubble came one of the surviving Alizari, his red robe tattered and singed, raising a dagger and rushing the armored assassin from behind. He spun, firing off that strange, glowing tube. The weapon hit the robed figure in the chest, his wail of agony cut short as witchfire burned through his chest like molten metal, and he dropped to lie still as his body cooked like pork over a fire. This heretic was armed with a relic too, one of great power, like bottled lightning that could be unleashed upon his enemies. She did not fear its energies, for she was fighting in service of the Goddess, and now her beloved deity was closer than ever before.
	"You sully these holy relics with your touch," she spat, advancing slowly towards him with her hammer ready to strike. "These are tools of the faithful, to be used in service of the Goddess' glory, to use them against her is the height of perversion."
	"You don't know what's happening," the mercenary replied, "none of you do. Everything you think you know is wrong, the world is not as it seems and your order is stumbling through darkness, piecing together fragments of the past and inferring meaning where there is none. I have spoken to the Oracle, it has shown me truths, cold and unforgiving truths that fly in the face of everything that you preach."
	"A serpent, whispering lies in your ears, you have been corrupted by a force of evil and repugnance."
	The assassin shrugged, the scales that made up his shoulders rippling, and readied himself for the fight.
	"I care not what you think, it doesn't matter, the world will burn regardless of what any of us does and I can only save myself."
	He pointed his weapon at her, and it loosed a bolt of blue flame, as if spewed from the belly of some terrible dragon. It shot towards her like a bolt of lightning made liquid, spewing sparks and flecks of burning material that stuck to the ground like lava, and she turned her shoulder towards it in an attempt to block it with her pauldron.
	It impacted her with a force that shocked her, as if it was a solid projectile rather than a swirling mass of crackling fluid, and the immense heat singed off her eyebrows as it splashed against her armor. The paint peeled away, the steel glowing orange as it absorbed the heat, like an iron in a forge as she began to scream. Her armor has not been penetrated, but her pauldron had been slagged, momentarily made molten as it began to cook the flesh that it had been designed to protect. She quickly used her gauntleted hand to unfasten it, the heat radiating through to her fingers as she discarded the warped piece of armor on the ground, hissing and steaming as it impacted the damp soil.
	Now with one less pauldron, she made for the assassin, intent on removing the threat before he had a chance to use that weapon again. Perhaps surprised by how quickly she had recovered, and her ability to weather the pain of her skin being melted to her underclothes, he was slow to react. She swung the hammer, the great weapon moving in a way that violated physics, and he was knocked off his feet as she drove its head into his side.
	Such a blow would have turned the average man's ribcage to splinters and driven his bones through his organs like stakes, but this was no ordinary adversary, the assassin already taking a knee as his relic armor absorbed the impact. It had been damaged however, dented where she had connected, this fight was relic-on-relic and the forces at play were beyond comprehension.
	As he tried to get up, dazed by the blow, she took the opportunity to bring her war hammer down on the hand that was holding the weapon. Now it was his turn to wail as the massive head crushed his limb, and his arcane weapon along with it, whatever had contained that blue fire breaching and spewing it forth in an expanding cloud of sizzling energy.
	The assassin tore his arm from beneath the weight of her hammer, rolling away from her as he clutched what was left of his hand, crushed flat and torn away to leave only a bloody stump and hanging ribbons of flesh. The armor was not impervious then, it could not withstand the full weight of her hammer, and now his weapon was destroyed. It pained her to smash the relic to dust, but better it not exist than to have it be used against the Goddess. She pulled her hammer out of the hole that it had dug in the ground, the relic weapon now little more than a leaking pile of bent metal, whatever it had contained now evaporated.
	He drew his sword with his remaining hand, standing ready, his ruined arm shaking as it dripped crimson blood onto the ground. In Alexandra's eyes he was already defeated, whatever defense he could mount now would be faltering and ultimately pointless, she might have respected his tenacity were it not for his unforgivable heresy. It was a shame that she couldn't draw his death out, revel in the sounds of his pleading and screaming, but she had to finish this quickly and resume her pursuit of the vagrant and his cohorts.
	"Hoarding relics will not save you from what's coming," he choked, "the Ancients were not immortal and neither are you."
	He seemed to get distracted by something, fumbling with his helmet and throwing it to the ground, revealing his face. He was unremarkable, with dark hair and a scruffy beard, his face pale from the blood loss and the pain. As his helmet landed on the ground and rolled to a stop at her feet, it spoke of its own accord, a rasping voice that dripped with malice and hatred rising to her ears.
	"-incompetent wretch! Do as your are commanded, or perish in fire along with the rest of your worthless race, you crawling insect-"
	She brought her hammer down on it, crushing it flat, the ranting voice petering out. Though injured, the assassin showed no sign of backing down, twirling his sword expertly in his remaining hand as he darted forwards. He struck at the missing pauldron, aiming to stab through the chainmail beneath, but she deflected the blow with the handle of her hammer and sent him stumbling backwards. He struck again, and again, but wherever his blade landed he found impenetrable armor or the deflecting blow of her weapon.
	He was weakening, the pain and loss of blood getting to him, and his blows became clumsier as their duel dragged out. Alexandra had no time for this, she had to pursue the fleeing vagrant and recover the Aspect, it was time to end it.
	She charged towards him, swinging her hammer low and knocking her opponent's feet out from under him, send him clattering to the dirt. He put his ruined arm out to catch himself reflexively, wailing as he landed on the tattered stump, his sword rising to protect him. It was in vain, she brought her hammer down on his chest plate, driving him into the ground and hearing him loose a pained grunt as the weight of it dented his armor inwards and drove the air from his lungs.
	His sword was knocked away, bent and ruined as it landed a short distance from them, and his relic armor sparked with arcs of blue light as started to die along with him. Its energies faded, the lights on his chest piece going dim, and suddenly it was as if the armor weighed ten times what it had. He couldn't move, he was too injured or the armor had lost its magic, and all that he could do was sputter a final warning as blood bubbled from his lips.
	"This is the end of all things."
	Her next blow landed on his unarmored head, and he fell silent.
	Alexandra raised the hammer and slung it over her back, gore and hair sticking to the head, turning frantically to search for her quarry. There was no sign of them now, they must have fled towards the docks, and the Alizari that had accompanied her were all either dead or buried under the rubble. They had to regroup, rally the city guard to search the harbor, there was a whole shanty town down there and there was no point heading off to look for them on her own.
	What the assassin had said bothered her, this was an age of religious significance, the Aspect had manifested as the prophecies predicted and yet it was walking around under its own power. Perhaps it had something to do with the threats of world-ending fires, had she come to save them from this unnamed threat? It made recovering her all the more critical, there was not a moment to lose.
	Alexandra set off towards the library, pushing through the crowd of paupers that had assembled to gawk at the scene, moving as fast as she could in her cumbersome armor.

***

	Val led the group between the shacks and makeshift dwellings that had been erected on the docks, ducking under racks of drying fish and dodging between crates bound for ships, the wooden planks beneath their feet slippery with ocean spray. Everything stank of salt and rotting seafood, the foaming water that lapped at the barnacle-coated supports tinted a sickly green, dock workers and sailors going about their business as searbirds called overhead. The scavengers swooped and wound around the forest of masts, their four feathery wings powering them through the air in search of scraps, diving down to snatch morsels of food in their pointed fangs. The sky above them was growing darker as they headed Westward, away from the stationary sun and towards the perpetual twilight of the ocean, the ships that rode the waves glowing with lanterns to light their way.
	"I don't even know where to start with you," Jaswinder muttered, shooting daggers at him with her oddly expressive eyes. Her angelic face was contorted into a scowl, her skin like molten gold as she glared at him with her glowing, sapphire pupils. He ignored her, scanning his surroundings for the pirate hideout, until she broke free of his grip and planted herself firmly on the dock. She did her best to cover herself with what was left of her tattered garments, and Val shrugged off his cloak, handing it to her. She snatched it from his fingers, throwing it about her shoulders, her golden skin now mostly obscured as she crossed her arms over her ample chest.
	"You're a womanizing scoundrel, Valentin, you're a drunk and a crook and you'll even stoop to robbing brothels. I cannot imagine coming across a worse candidate for this quest, I'm trying to save the world and your...despicable behavior keeps putting us in jeapordy."
	"Hey, I didn't ask to be made the herald of your God, and I didn't sign up to be responsible for saving the whole world along with everyone in it. I was only out to make a a quick buck salvaging relics, you're the one who threw a wrench in my plans, you're the reason we have robed psychopaths chasing us across the land. I got us here, didn't I? If you hate me so much then find somebody else and let me go about my business in peace."
	"Oh I'd drop you in a heartbeat," Jas spat, "but it isn't up to me. You're the one that was chosen by God and I can't rely on anybody else to get me where I need to go, you know that."
	"Is somebody going to tell me what the hell is going on here?" Telaim snarled, the little Elf balling his fists as the two taller figures peered down at him. Meradu began to hop from one foot to another again, alarmed and unsure of what to do, the wide brim of his mushroom cap shedding spores like dust as it bounced.
	"You led the Alizari straight to us," Val said, checking his alpaca's lead to make sure that it was tight around her head and giving her a comforting pat on the neck. "What did you do to piss them off, anyway? I don't see what interest they could possibly have in a hooker from some backstreet brothel."
	"I came here looking for you," the Elf growled, his porcelain skin turning a shade of crimson. "Just asking after you was enough to bring the sky down on my head, I've been tortured and chased across the city, all because you stiffed me back at the trading town. You owe me, and I want more than just the payment that you skipped out on." He drew his thin knife and twirled it in his slim fingers. "Whatever scam you're running here, whatever your scheme with this walking relic is, I want in on it. The Alizari have already assumed that I'm in league with you, the city guards will be on the lookout for me, they don't get many Elves in these parts. The way I see it, I won't even make it out of the city, so my only option is to stick with you until I can make off with a cut of your earnings."
	"You don't know what's going on," Val started, Jaswinder watching the pair of them skeptically. "This isn't some kind of heist that I'm pulling here, if I told you what had happened to me you probably wouldn't even believe the story."
	"There's only one language that I speak, thief, and that's coin. I don't care about tall tales, I want the money that you owe me with interest and compensation for my suffering, and I know what something like this artifact is worth. It would be enough for the both of us to live comfortably for the rest of our days, and if you're smuggling her away from the Alizari then you must have a buyer lined up or you wouldn't take the risk, I'm not some brainless whore y'know."
	The little bastard was fast, and in the blink of an eye he closed the distance between him and Val, his needle-sharp blade pressing against the thief's balls and pricking him through his trousers. Val froze like a statue, his hand on the hilt of his dagger, but too slow to stop the furious Elf.
	"Option two, is I take your family jewels as payment, and make sure that you never get to play with that cock of yours again. It'd be a shame, you weren't half bad in the sack, but if you think you can cross me and get away with it because I'm little then you can think again."
	Val looked to Jaswinder for support, but she planted her hands on her wide hips, shaking her head beneath her dark hood as she spoke in her distorted voice.
	"Don't look to me for help, the way I see it your cock has been the source of most of our problems, maybe getting neutered by this Elf will improve your focus."
	"When did 'I' become the villain here?" Val muttered indignantly, but he let go of his dagger and raised his gloved hands in surrender to the Elf. "Alright, alright, you can come with us on our journey and by the end of it I'll pay you back what I owe."
	"With interest," Telaim insisted, and Val nodded reluctantly.
	"Yeah, alright, with interest."
	The Elf withdrew his blade and sheathed it, stepping back, appraising Val's companions as if noticing them for the first time. He looked over the nervous mushroom, and the cloaked relic, glimpses of her golden skin flashing beneath her hood.
	"You keep odd company, Val, now we'd better find your pirate friend before those red robed lunatics pick up our scent."
	"How do you know about him?" Val asked suspiciously, cocking an eyebrow at the Elf.
	"I was tipped off at the thieves guild, he was your only known contact."
	"I'd better have a talk with them about privacy when we get back," he grumbled.
	"There won't be anything to come back to unless we get moving," Jas hissed, and Val resumed his search for the pirate den. They stuck close together, tailing the thief as he skulked through the harbor, the buildings that crowded the piers built from what at times almost looked like driftwood. There were decorations everywhere, knotted ropes hanging from walls, giant fishing lures and rusted anchors that rested on the uneven deck as it creaked beneath their boots.
	They were distracted by a giant, blue sail, unfurling to catch the wind as a mammoth sailing ship left port. The fluttering fabric was decorated with swirling, yellow patterns, a coat of arms that Val didn't recognize emblazoned in the center. It bobbed on the water, sailors manning the rigging as it turned towards the open sea, and even Jaswinder seemed momentarily impressed by the sight.
	"At least you've rediscovered sailing," she mused, "you might not be a lost cause after all."
	They moved along one of the piers, sagging, makeshift structures built along the center to let the boats dock on either side. It was a miracle that the supports could take the weight, perhaps one day the whole affair would just collapse into the sea, taking the squatters along with it. The group skirted around a large fish that had been deposited on the planks, the eyeless creature gutted for its valuable organs, seabirds gnawing on the jutting bones and squawking angrily when they were disturbed.
	 "Too many flippers," Jas muttered as she gave the rotting carcass a wide berth, "convergent evolution only goes so far I suppose..."
	"We're here," Val announced, bringing the party to a stop in front of one of the larger structures that had been crudely erected on the end of the pier. They crowded around to get a better look, Jaswinder and Telaim grimacing at the sight of it, gnarled planks damp with ocean spray framing a door built from driftwood. The roof sagged in the middle, as if it might fall in on itself at any moment, and the whole structure creaked and groaned with the subtle shifting of the pier that served as its foundation. This did not look like the residence of a renowned pirate, but perhaps that was the point.
	Val rang a bell that hung from a wooden support by the door, it looked like it had been salvaged from a ship, and after a moment of waiting there was a voice from the other side. It was an elderly woman, catty and impatient, as if her duties had been interrupted by their unannounced visit.
	"Yes? Who is it? State your business!"
	"Please inform Madame Zhou that Valentin has come to call in a favor."
	The voice on the other side of the door hesitated for a moment.
	"Nobody by that name here," she snapped, "go away!"
	There was a second voice, more measured and confident, another woman who spoke over the first as she unbolted the door and swung it open in invitation.
	"Now now Mrs Yang, you remember Valentin, he's a friend of ours. We can't well turn away our friends, can we?"
	As the door opened on its rusty hinges, they caught a glimpse of her, her features illuminated by the lanterns that lit the dingy interior. She had straight, dark hair tied into a tight bun that was woven with colorful beads, and prominent cheekbones that stood out in the shadow. She sized up the group with a smile that seemed forced, perhaps suspicious of Val's entourage, but after a moment she stepped aside and gestured for them to enter.
	They stepped through into a gloomy room, the dancing flames of candles and the grimy glow of oil lamps casting deep shadows, the small windows were dirty and what little light there was to be found this far West did not penetrate. An old woman shuffled away from them, her back hunched and a broom in her hands as she resumed what must be a futile attempt to keep the space clean, this hovel looked no different from a poor fisherman's cabin.
	"It's nice to see you again, Val," their host said with a wry smile. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked him up and down, her clothing oddly masculine, she wore baggy pants and a long jacket that obscured her figure. She had a slight frame and might have been confused for a boy was it not for her sharp, feminine features and her sultry voice. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
	Val glanced around the room, spotting a wooden table, and pulled up a chair to sit down. After a moment the woman followed suit, his companions standing nearby as they watched what was feeling increasingly more like a polite confrontation than a conversation.
	 "I need to book passage for my friends and I, we're traveling to the land of the Song and I'm afraid that our...companion here, has drawn the interest of the Alizari."
	"I hope you weren't so unwise as to lead them straight to me?" The woman asked ominously, that ever present smile unfaltering as she scrutinized the thief.
	"Of course not Zhou, I'm a professional, you know that."
	She turned her piercing gaze to Jaswinder, her golden form once again obscured beneath the cloak, the woman drumming on the table with her long fingernails.
	"Elves aren't of any interest to the religious, and unless you're making mushroom soup I don't see that a Chanterelle would draw a lot of attention," she mused as Meradu shivered at the implication. "So what's so special about your female companion, Val? Did you abscond with the daughter of some noble?"
	Valentin turned to Jaswinder, gesturing for her to remove her clothing, and she let her dark cloak fall away. Her golden body caught the candlelight, and immediately she was the most brilliant thing in the room, as polished and reflective as a mirror as the dancing flames made her molten skin glisten. Zhou was dumbstruck for a moment, her eyes playing over Jaswinder's form jealously, her gaze lingering on the relic's perfectly sculpted breasts and the subtle details of muscle beneath her flat belly. With an hourglass waist that tapered into wide hips, and legs longer than any that nature had produced, she was an avatar of feminine beauty that was impossible for mortals to live up to. Telaim had never see her uncovered form either, and the little Elf marveled at her idealized features, somehow soft and yielding despite being forged from metal. Jas peered back at them with her blue eyes, glowing like sapphires under her crown of golden hair, crossing her arms over her pert boobs uncomfortably and compressing them as if they were made of flesh.
	"Well I'll be," Zhou gasped, "did you steal this from somebody or did you unearth it yourself? I can't imagine you doing hard labor Val, must be the former, no wonder the Alizari are out for your blood."
	Telaim reached up and sank his fingers into the meat of her plump ass, the metal as warm and as pliant as that of a real woman, and Jas slapped his curious hand away with a yelp.
	"Hands to yourself, you little deviant! If you're all quite done objectifying me, can we please get back to business? In case you forgot, the entire Alizarin order and likely most of the city guard are bent on catching us, they might be going door to door for all we know."
	Telaim rubbed his hand, scowling at Val as if it was his fault, and Zhou gave Jas one last look over as her lips curled into a smirk.
	"Fiesty relic you've got here Val, and your Elf boy isn't bad either, no matter what trouble you manage to get yourself into your bed always seems to be full. There's no justice in the world..."
	"I wouldn't dream of sleeping with this ingrate," Jas protested, and Zhou laughed at her outrage.
	"Take it from me, Val is like a dog slavering beneath his master's table, better to just give him the scraps so that he stops pestering you."
	Jas turned away indignantly, and the woman turned her attention back to Val, cutting him off before he could mount a defense of his sexual prowess.
	"So what exactly are you doing at my hideout, Val, and what do you want from me?"
	"I need passage West across the ring sea," he replied, his tone more serious now. "You're the only person I know of who can get me across the ocean discreetly, without the Alizari finding out, and if memory serves you owe me favors."
	"I didn't even ask for payment yet," Zhou complained, "and you're already calling in old favors? You're so cheap Val, a less tolerant host might kick you out onto the street for such an affront to her dignity."
	"Wait, you own the ship?" Telaim asked, an expression of confusion crossing his round face. "I was told that Val's contact was a man."
	"I'm not the most comely woman, in case you hadn't noticed," she replied. "When the authorities come looking for a pirate king, all they find is a fisherman's wife, some baggy clothes and a tight brazier and none but my confidants are any the wiser when I'm out plundering."
	"Come on, I tipped you off about that raid, didn't I?" Val continued, ignoring the Elf. "If I hadn't gone out of my way to get word to you, the city guard would have found those stolen shipments of silk and you'd be trading moldy bread for blowjobs in the city dungeons right now."
	"Thanks for that mental image, Val, but favors don't stock my pantry or pay my crew. I am intrigued by this relic that you've brought with you, however, do you intend to sell it? I can't imagine that the Song would have any use for such an item, but I can think of a hundred...applications for it here in the city."
	"Jaswinder isn't for sale," Val replied, and Zhou pouted as she leaned back in her chair.
	"Shame, I was going to ask for a small cut of the profits, even ten or fifteen percent of its estimated value would have funded my operations for a year. What gives, Val? This isn't like you. A notorious thief who spends his coin as fast as he earns it, a man who has a taste for the finer liqueurs and the more expensive brothels, and you're going to pass up on this walking fortune over here? What could possibly be more important to you than getting your end away?"
	"The fate of the world," Jas announced, "and stop referring to me as if I'm some inanimate object to be bought and sold like a sow."
	"But my dear," Zhou said with a smirk, "you must not have looked in a mirror lately. You 'are' an object." Jas balled her fists and marched towards the pirate, but Val held out an arm to stop her, Zhou chuckling to herself. "She's so lively, what is she? She walks and speaks like a person, I've never heard a relic talk back like that, and yet she's clearly a relic forged by the ancients. Some long dead smith had fine taste, to be sure."
	"Near as I can tell, Jas is a spirit who inhabits this relic," Val replied as he looked to his fuming companion for confirmation. Jas sighed, and brushed her shimmering hair out of her face, fine strands of flexible gold that flowed like water.
	"I was sent here by God," she stated, "this vessel was the first available form that I could inhabit. Regrettably it is a...pleasure model."
	"A pleasure model?" Zhou mused, her eyes once again finding Jas' pert breasts, much to her distaste. "I see, so the ancients made these to keep them company on lonely nights? Women of unearthly beauty made to order, what blessed lives they must have lived..."
	"I am an angel on a mission from God, my form is incidental, there was not time to find a more suitable host."
	"And what does it feel like, to inhabit that vessel? Can you feel the brush of fingers across your skin, or the warmth of a body, just as those of us hewn from flesh and blood do?"
	Jas looked conflicted for a moment, her arms crossed across her bust again, a futile effort to hide her anatomy from Zhou's prying eyes.
	"It's been a while since I walked solid ground, several thousand years in fact, but the human experience is about as I remember it."
	"You should take that body through its paces," Zhou replied, her tone low and seductive. "Would be a shame to let it go untouched, might as well taste the fruits of the mortal realm while you're here, right?"
	"We are wasting time," Jas snapped, directing her attention to Val as Zhou continued to leer at her. "Just give her what she wants so that we can be on our way! Every day that passes brings the enemy closer."
	"Fine," Val conceded. He snapped his gloved fingers to get Zhou's attention and she peeled her eyes away from Jaswinder. "What is it that you want?"
	"Listen, Val," she said as she spread her hands in a gesture of appeasement. "Me and you go way back, we've been through a lot together, when you've been under my employ you've served me well and when you've been by my side as a friend you've always been reliable. We both know that coin is what makes the world go round, you don't get something for nothing, if you want me to do something for you then you need to have something to offer in exchange. If it's not money, then I need something else."
	"Stop beating around the bush and tell me what it's going to take."
	"You keep interesting company, Val. When we leave port I want some alone time with your relic and your Elf boy, maybe with you if I'm in the mood to tolerate what you mistakenly refer to as your 'charms'. You know that I'm a woman of...particular tastes. If you don't have the money to hire my ship, and I know that you don't because this is you we're talking about, then I'll take my payment in flesh and make the voyage worth my time."
	"Wouldn't be the first time I've paid my way with my body," Telaim said, "if it will keep me close to Valentin until he pays me back the debt that he owes me then I'll do it. You wouldn't be the first female client I've had either, I know my way around a woman."
	"Oh, a professional?" Zhou marveled, "that just sweetens the deal. What about you, my gilded beauty?"
	Jaswinder shook her head adamantly.
	"Not on your life."
	"Not even to save the world?" Zhou crooned. "Come on, live a little, I'll be gentle if that's the way you take it."
	"Absolutely not, this is ridiculous," Jas muttered as she turned her back on the lecherous pirate. "Let's just find someone else to take us, Val."
	"Well I'm not passing up the only chance I'll ever get to share a bed with a relic designed by legendary craftsmen for the sole purpose of fucking," Zhou announced as she rested her heavy boots on the wooden table, leaning her chair back on its hind legs with a creak as she took the opportunity to cop an eyeful of Jas' polished rump. "No angel, no deal."
	"Come on Jas," Val hissed, leaving his seat and taking her arm to pull her aside. "You're the one who's always ranting about the end of the world and how we have to do whatever it takes to complete our mission. You won't spend an hour with this woman to ensure us safe passage? We don't know that the other captains and merchants wouldn't just turn us in, or put a knife in my back and take you for themselves. Zhou is the only person that we can trust."
	"I can't Val," she whispered, her hollow voice strained. "Things weren't like this in my time period, I can't do these things, it's not...I'm not equipped for this."
	Valentin turned back to Zhou, who was waiting expectantly, her hands clasped behind her head as she balanced on her chair.
	"How about this," he started, rummaging through one of the pockets in his coat and then dropping a coinpurse heavily on the table. "There are at least two hundred gold coins there, more than enough to book passage for one person. You get me, you get the Elf, but Jaswinder can't do it. She's an angel Zhou, a real one, she can't deal with the dirt and grime of the mortal realm the way we can."
	Zhou leaned over and weighed the bag in her palm, considering for a moment, then she spat in her hand and extended it towards Val.
	"Fine, I accept, but on one condition. Whatever me, you and the Elf get up to, she has to watch. She doesn't have to take part, but I want her nearby, I want to see her and I want her to see me."
	"Deal," Val said, following suit and spitting in his hand. They slapped them together wetly and shook on it, Jas shivering at the sight, she looked as if she wanted to protest the arrangement but it was too late now.
	"I'll send word to get my ship supplied and ready to sail, it sounds like you're in a hurry, in the meantime please make yourselves at home. You'll forgive me if I don't offer you beverages or food? This shack is a front, I live on my ship most of the time, which I assure you is lavishly furnished and befitting a pirate queen. One can't parade one's riches and plunder around in the city unfortunately, while thievery may be legal outside of its walls, piracy is very much frowned upon by the powers that be."
	She called over the stooped old woman, and began to give her instructions, Jas leaning in to whisper in Val's ear.
	"I don't want to watch, why did you agree to her terms?"
	"That's the best we're going to get," he replied tersely, "I just put all the money I have on the table to make this happen so don't complain that you have to bear witness to a little indecency. I don't know what it was like in heaven, but you can't be protected from everything that you find distasteful down here, there isn't enough coin in the world."
	She walked off grumbling to herself under her breath as Zhou finished giving orders to her maid, who scurried off and left the hovel through the driftwood door.
	"If you need to sleep, there are beds in the back," she said as Meradu waddled up to her. She looked down at the squat creature, his spotted cap at about waist height to her, and he waved his stubby arms to get her attention.
	"I might pay my way with information," he offered, "I have knowledge of many subjects that might be of interest to you."
	"Don't worry about it, mushroom. You don't eat anything that I can provide, and I'm not interested in bedding you, you're free to travel with your companions as long as you don't cause me any trouble."

***

	They milled about as they waited for word on the ship, Val and Zhou reminiscing about old heists and chatting about his odd situation while Telaim slept and Meradu doodled in his journal. Jas watched him, bored and unwilling to join the outlaws in their conversation, her metal body beyond such mortal concerns as food and sleep.
	After a few hours had passed, the old woman returned, all eyes on the door as it creaked open and she shuffled inside.
	"Madame Zhou," she rasped, "your ship had been prepared and the crew are ready. Make haste, our spies report that the Alizari have blocked access to the docks from the city, and they're leaving no stone unturned in their search for your...clients."
	"Then there's no time to waste," Zhou declared, leaping to her feet and fastening a belt around her waist from which hung a curved saber. She marched to the door and snatched a wide brimmed hat from a rack beside it, planting it on her head, and gestured for them to follow.
	Val wrapped Jas in her cloak and helped her with her boots and gloves, ensuring that she was as covered up as possible, and the party set out with their hoods low over their faces. Telaim could cover his Elven ears, but Meradu stood out like...a giant walking mushroom. Besides throwing a bed sheet over his cap and playing him off as an extremely deformed child, they had no way to hide him from prying eyes, the sooner they cast off the better.
	They tailed Zhou through the docks, everything was damp with sea water and there was the perpetual odor of salt and fouled fish in the air, Val remarking that Jaswinder was wrinkling her nose and also that she had a sense of smell. There were fisherman unloading their hauls from small fishing boats with curved hooks, pulling them from the nets and throwing them into wooden containers to be gutted and cleaned later, Jas seeming especially repulsed by the slimy sea creatures.
	"What's the matter," Val asked, "don't like fish?"
	"The fish here are just...I don't like the look of them. Where I come from the fish that we ate were clean and sleek, covered in silver scales with pink, appetizing meat. Here they're bulbous and ugly, they're covered in sensory nodes that look like pustules and their meat is too red."
	"I didn't know that you could go fishing in heaven," Val mused, watching her expression as she stepped over a discarded sea beast with slimy tentacles that lay limp on the dock. Val didn't share or understand her revulsion. Fish were a free and abundant food source, as a child he had fished these docks himself, and he had been eating them his entire life. Sometimes Jas behaved like she didn't understand where she was, as if her body was here but her mind was somewhere else, like her memories were at odds with the sights and sounds around her. Had the world changed so much since she had been away, or were these memories of heaven, perhaps the far-off land that she claimed to hail from?
	The ships at least seemed to interest her more than the fish, she turned her sapphire eyes skyward to watch the masts sway and their regalia flap on the breeze, almost melancholic as she watched the wooden boats bob on the water.
	"Are you fond of sailing?" Val asked, and she shot him a rare smile in reply.
	"You might say that, yes. Of everything that I've seen here, these ships are the most encouraging, they're a necessary rung on a ladder that you have yet to realize that you're climbing. If you can sail an ocean, then you can sail the stars as we...as your ancestors once did, it's just a matter of technology."
	"You think that one day we might become like the ancients then? Rediscover what was lost?"
	"I do, or at least, I hope that you will." She seemed conflicted for a moment, as if his question has spurred some internal debate. "Do you know why the Alizari are so bent on capturing me, Valentin?"
	"Because you're a relic, a valuable one at that, I've never seen anything like you before."
	"No, it's not just that. How do I put this..." He watched her intently as she considered her words, certain that she was about to reveal some great truth, and Meradu sidled up beside her with his journal in hand as he eavesdropped on their exchange.
	"There are more of these vessels, a great number of them in fact, scattered about the world. The civilization of the ancients was decadent and wasteful, they indulged in all manner of indecencies, and these golden women were their concubines. Animate but unfeeling, loyal to their flesh and blood masters to a fault, they would perform any vile act that their owner desired without hesitation. As you can probably imagine, they were quite prevalent, and durable enough to survive the aftermath of the war."
	"There are more of you?" Val asked, imagining a hundred of the immaculate, golden women and feeling his cheeks warm at the implications.
	"Hundreds of thousands, and tens of thousands are still operable, albeit as time goes on more and more of them either succumb to the march of time or are discovered prematurely."
	"What do you mean, 'prematurely'?"
	"God has been using them as a tool, a way to convey lost information to the survivors of that terrible war, over generations he has fed humanity a slow drip of information. The secrets of using relics, knowledge lost to time, from farming to mathematics. It takes a long time for a civilization to develop, tens of thousands of years of trial and error, after the war reduced the population to a few scattered pockets of primitives it became necessary to speed up the process. These golden vessels were the perfect choice, their beauty made them almost immune from attack or rejection, the tribals would see them as good omens or angels sent from heaven. God would reanimate them, planting instructions in their empty heads, and once the information was conveyed he would instruct them to resume their...prior functions as a reward."
	She seemed repulsed by the idea, but Val did not interrupt her, he was captivated by her story.
	"Eventually cults and religions began to form around these appearances, people would notice the patterns and begin to predict when these repurposed concubines would manifest themselves, this only furthered God's work and made it easier for humanity to retain the information that he wished to share."
	"The Alizari," Val whispered, it all made sense. That was why they wanted her so badly, why they hoarded relics, and why their organization was so widespread and powerful. They were ready for the appearance of the angels, and they recorded their secrets in the Alizarin library, that structure had stood for as long as anyone cared to remember.
	"Yes, their religion formed around those appearances, and that suited God just fine. They made efforts to recover the vessels and they kept exemplary records, though I'm sorry to say that the ritualized debauchery continues long after it became unnecessary..."
	"So what's the problem?" Val asked. "What went wrong this time?"
	"You know very well," she said with a glance in his direction, "the enemy is coming. One by one the stars went dark, something was devouring them, something with a palpable hatred for humanity. Wherever it found humans, they went silent, and God hoped that whatever it was wouldn't find you here. But they did, and they're coming, we ran out of time to wait around for you to develop. This world needs to be defended 'now', we don't have time to teach you to do it yourselves, and the Alizari are only interested in their rituals and superstitions. It's partly due to their obsessive collection of intact vessels that we were unable to act sooner, without sunlight they cannot awaken, once inside the Alizari vaults they are useless."
	"Yeah, I saw how badly the masked man wanted you, that you were walking and talking of your own accord seemed to shock him."
	"It's been a few hundred years since God last animated a vessel, they're used to them being limp and lifeless, even with their records they might not have been prepared for what they saw."
	"So what about you? What makes you different from the other vessels?"
	"I'm a person, Val, or at least I used to be. Call me a ghost, a spirit, whatever works best for you. I used to be alive, and now I am ethereal, my mortal body having long since decayed to dust. When you dragged this vessel from that tomb, and the light touched its skin, God took his first opportunity to send me down to inhabit it. He needed someone on the ground, someone who could make their own decisions and act without him, as communication would be difficult and potentially impossible. It's a good thing too, as a combination of weather and damage has prevented me from speaking to him, we've been on our own for a long time. He was building me a body last I heard, something that could have taken on these challenges alone and succeeded, but there's just no time. For millennia we've had nothing but time, and now..."
	"What about the Chanterelle?" Meradu asked, looking up from his furious scribbling for a moment. "Does God have a plan for us? We were never visited by any vessels, we have learned and collected information on our own."
	He seemed to fear that his people had been somehow overlooked or left behind, and so Jaswinder reached out a gloved hand to pat him on his fleshy cap in reassurance.
	"The Chanterelle and the Song were already here when we arrived in this world," she said, "you don't need our help. You were around long before we came here, and you would have survived long after us. If anything, my biggest regret is the disruption that we caused to your natural development, we had no way to know that there were already sentient beings living here when we set out."
	That seemed to assuage his doubts, and he nodded in approval, recording the information in his journal as they walked. Finally they arrived at their destination, following Zhou along a pier and stopping at the foot of a wooden walkway that led to a huge sailing ship, its furled sails dyed a vibrant orange. It was indeed luxurious, its wood stained almost black, decorated with ornate metalwork around its windows and gun ports. The crossbows protruded menacingly, massive weapons that could hurl destructive arrows or flaming bolts between ships, with three masts to boot it was clearly a vessel designed to close with her quarry and hit them hard. There was a wicked forepeak on the bow of the ship, placed just below a long bowsprit, adorned with a figurehead of a snarling dragon that looked suited to ramming.
	"This is my ship," Zhou declared, "the Star Seed. She's as fast as they come and she can ferry you across the ring sea as fast as anyone. If your Alizari friends can even catch her, they'll have to contend with eighteen crossbows, we'll see what they think of a broadhead soaked in pitch and set alight."
	There were dozens of people scurrying about the deck, crew members preparing the ship for launch, and Zhou guided the group up the ramp and onto the swaying vessel as her men saluted her in greeting. Telaim was surprised to see such weathered and stocky men showing respect to the slight woman, but it was no shock to Val, he knew the kind of power that she wielded and how she practically ran all piracy in the region on her own. It might take brute strength to swing a sword, but it took skill and experience to sail a ship, along with a flair for command and the adoration of her crew. She rewarded those loyal to her handsomely, and punished those who crossed her in equal measure. Her favored method of execution was dumping a bucket of chum into the water, before throwing those who wronged her into the sea to be eaten by oceangoing monsters. Once someone set foot on her ship, they quickly learned who was in charge, or they didn't survive very long.
	"Anchors aweigh as soon as possible Mister Costa," she said as she passed a swarthy man wearing a fur jacket, his fist pounding his chest in salute. This far West it was getting cold, and as they crossed the sea and the sun diminished behind them, the temperature would only continue to fall. These men all looked prepared for arctic weather, warm coats and hats being the order of the day, the crew running to and fro as they carried supplies or swinging from the rigging as they prepared the sails.
	"Mister Costa is my first mate," she announced as she marched the party towards the quarter deck, and the cabins that lay towards the aft of the ship. "If you have any needs or requests during the voyage and I am indisposed, please direct them towards him, I'm sure that he will be able to accommodate you."
	She showed them to their bunks, they would be sharing a cabin with her, away from the rest of the crew who slept in hammocks below deck. It was lavishly furnished, with chairs and tables hewn from mahogany with red silk cushions and carved with decorative designs, along with silver candlesticks and cutlery laid out for supper. Most of it looked stolen, but her good taste was undeniable.
	There was a lurch as the great vessel cast off, the party leaving the cabin and stepping out onto the deck to watch the show, the wooden planks swaying beneath their feet as the Star Seed rode the waves. Her great sails unfurled, catching the wind and propelling her away from the dock at surprising speed, Zhou had not been lying when she had said that her vessel was fast. There was so much activity on the deck, men shouting commands to one another and performing tasks that someone unfamiliar with sailing would not understand, Zhou's first mate manning the helm as he steered the ship Westward.
	They were finally underway, leaving the city and the Alizari behind them, there was no way that they could be captured now.
	"Are you certain that your men are all trustworthy?" Jas asked Zhou, and the woman nodded affirmatively.
	"If they aren't, then they won't be surviving this voyage, my sailors know the price of failure."
	Jas threw off her tattered cloak, exposing her golden body, what sunlight there was to be found this far West reflecting off her burnished skin like a beacon. Many of the crew stopped what they were doing, looking up at her in awe, before Zhou shouted down at them.
	"You all know what relics look like, now back to work you sea dogs, unless you want to taste the cat o'nine."
	Telaim shivered at the thought of whips, remembering his ordeal with Alexandra, the wounds that he had sustained still sore and fresh.
	"Looks like we're in the clear," Val said to Jaswinder as he looked back at the port, growing smaller behind them as the gigantic tower that marked the city center shrank to the size of a pencil. "They'll never be able to catch up to us now, even if they manage to figure out where we've gone."
	"We're so close," Jas muttered, "now isn't the time to let your guard down. The Alizari will stop at nothing to bring me back."
	Valentin leaned on the handrail, looking down at the teal water as it passed beneath their ship, the waves cresting with white foam as they battered the wooden hull. In all his travels, none had taken him across the ring sea to the land of the Song, it was an icy tundra where little grew and no humans dared to venture. There was no hostile wildlife, no tribes or bandits, but the land itself conspired to slay those who presumed to conquer it. There had been voyages of exploration, but those that returned spoke only of an endless waste, a field of snow and ice that extended into inky darkness the likes of which was scarcely seen above ground. Where the sun's reach ended, so did that of men it seemed.
	"What are we looking for out there?" Val asked, Jas turning her attention away from the city to peer at him with her glowing eyes. "You've told me that we need to reach the other side of the sea, but not what we'll find there."
	"I told you, a weapon."
	"That doesn't tell me much, what kind of weapon? Some powerful relic? Was it something that the Ancients used to kill one another in this great war that you're always talking about?"
	"You'll find out soon enough."
	She had been so willing to share information earlier, something about the seeing the sailing ships for the first time had made her open up, but now she had clammed up again and she didn't seem to feel like talking. Val and Telaim left her to brood as she looked over the side of the vessel, heading into the cabin to get some food.

***

	"More wine, Val?" Zhou asked, steadying his glass as the ship rocked back and forth, they had been sailing for a few hours and the seas had become rougher as they had gotten further away from the shore. They were digging into a lavish meal, their host presenting them with all manner of cooked meats and steamed vegetables, the main course of which was honey-roasted pork. Everyone was present at the table besides Meradu, who had no use for food, neither did Jas and yet Zhou had insisted on her presence at the feast. She sat in one of the masterfully carved chairs, her arms crossed in disdain as she watched her companions eat, her golden body seeming to glow in the candlelight.
	"So you can't taste anything, Jaswinder?" Zhou asked, gesturing in her direction with a silver fork that was engraved with initials that did not match the pirate's name.
	"I can taste, yes, but I have no need to eat. This vessel is powered by sunlight alone."
	"We're venturing far from the sun," Val added, "will you be ok?"
	"I will be fine, I have enough energy stored to make it to our destination."
	"I'll never understand this magic," Zhou chuckled, raising an ornate glass to her lips and downing a gulp of the wine within, the red liquid sloshing back and forth as the boat swayed. "Val has told me a few tales of your adventure thus far, but so little of it makes sense to me, I can scarcely picture the scenes in my head. Men wearing enchanted suits of armor, giant monsters leaping from the desert sands, giant mushrooms and weapons that can turn houses to rubble. I thought the pirate's life was interesting, but you people make all of this seem mundane."
	"Well you're a part of our fellowship now, Zhou, perhaps you'll see something of note during the voyage."
	"On the contrary, I hope that I don't," she laughed. "Sounds dangerous as all hell."
	"You'd better be careful," Telaim said, "trouble follows this one like a shadow. Just knowing his name has been enough to rope me into this mess, I just wanted to get my damned money back, and now I'm being hunted from sand to city by the Alizari."
	"What exactly happened between you two anyway," Zhou asked, a wry smile curling her lips.
	"He hired my services in a brothel, and then half way through he ran out on the payment, jumped right out of the window without even taking the time to put his pants back on."
	"Hey, that's not the whole story," Val chimed in indignantly. "Did you forget the part where I was being chased by Alizari? I had every intention of paying you, but those guys were going to kill me, what choice did I have?"
	"Then why did you take the money with you?" Telaim asked tersely, Zhou growing more amused as she watched their exchange become heated.
	"I didn't have a lot of time to think about it, ok? I can't pay you what I owe now anyway, I gave the last of my coin to Zhou."
	"You'd better find a way to get that money," Telaim hissed, gripping his cutlery with murderous intent. "Because if you don't, I'm going to cut open the coinpurse that's hanging between your legs, and take whatever I find inside."
	"I am going to enjoy watching you two fuck," Zhou said, their argument cut short as they turned their attention to her.
	"What?" Telaim asked incredulously, "are you serious?"
	"Absolutely, that was the payment that you both agreed to, was it not? I provide passage across the ring sea to the land of the Song, and you perform for my enjoyment."
	"I thought that I would be sleeping with you," the Elf said, his knife-shaped ears turning a conspicuous shade of red.
	"This voyage will take a while," Zhou clarified, "there will be time enough for everyone to have their turn."
	Val suddenly regretted drinking quite as much wine as he had, its abundance now taking on a new meaning, only Jas had remained in an entirely sober state.
	"What to do with you," Zhou mused, twirling the silver fork in her fingers as she contemplated her next course of action. She glanced between the two of them, no doubt with lascivious thoughts swirling in her mind, Jaswinder looking on with a disapproving glare. "Val, why not just throw your young friend over the table and fuck him right here? It sounds as if you two have some issues that you need to resolve."
	"If I must," Telaim replied, trying his best to downplay the fact that he was painfully attracted to the dashing rogue. He had been hoping for an excuse to go a second round with Valentin, as angry as he was with him, and this at least allowed him to play the role of a put upon prostitute so that he might hide his true feelings.
	"Yeah, I won't refuse," Val added. "Truth be told I was sorry that our first session was cut so short, but..." He looked towards Jaswinder, who had an expression on her face as if she had just stepped in something unspeakable. "Zhou, does Jas really have to be here?"
	"You all agreed to the terms," the pirate replied with a smirk, "if she doesn't like it then she's free to step off the side of the ship and walk to the far shore. She doesn't need to breathe, I've not seen her her chest rise once, and believe me I've had my eye on it."
	"I had no say in these terms," Jas complained, trying in vain to shield her ample bust from Zhou's probing eyes as she crossed her arms uncomfortably.
	"Then my offer stands," Zhou laughed. "Come on, you have a body for the first time in thousands of years, you can touch and taste and feel. If you won't participate, I at least want you to watch, I'll get off on the idea of a pure and holy being such as yourself being forced to watch us lowly mortals frolic in the filth."
	"Sorry Jas, doesn't look like I have a choice," Val said. He reached across to Telaim who was sitting to his left, catching the Elf's ear between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it as Telaim winced and rose from his seat. Zhou leaned back in her chair, planting her heavy boots on the dining table, a goblet of wine in one hand and the other sneaking beneath her trousers. She knew Val, well enough to know what was about to happen, and she made sure that she had a good view.
	He guided the now furious Elf down towards his lap, Telaim understanding what he wanted, and kneeling down in front of him. Val unfastened his belt and opened his pants, his already erect member bouncing free to slap against Telaim's rosy cheek, hard and heavy as the Elf glared up at him.
	"Don't push it," he muttered, "I could just as easily bite it off."
	For all his complaints, Telaim played his eyes covetously over the brutish organ. It was as thick and as vascular as he remembered it, imposing, and with a gentle upward curve that almost seemed designed hit him in all the right places. He grasped it in his hand and felt its warmth, Val twitching at his touch, the Elf's full lips parting to breathe warm air over its tender tip. As attractive as Val's unwavering confidence was, it got on his nerves, if the thief thought that he was such a stud then maybe Telaim should use his considerable skills to show him up in front of everyone. He would see if the pirate queen still sung Val's praises once she heard him whine like a girl on her wedding night. He would get a little revenge, and satisfy his own, more carnal desires at the same time.
	He glanced up at Val, putting on his best doe-eyes, and he pouted as he ran his fingertip across the vagrant's glans. It was slippery with his excitement, a bead of it welling at the head, and Telaim planted a lingering kiss on its sensitive underside.
	Valentin sank his fingers into the Elf's brown hair, soft and silky, taking a firm handful as Telaim teased him with probing glances of his smooth tongue. His slim fingers stroked the shaft, deft and gentle, as light as a feather as he played his digits across Val's skin. The thief's scent was masculine and heady, and Telaim felt a hardness rising in his own trousers, once again irritated by the scoundrel's animal magnetism. It was undeserved and wholly intoxicating.
	There was a creak as Zhou leaned forward to get a better view, watching the strained expression on Val's roguish face as the Elf boy worked his magic, noting that he must be skilled indeed to get such a reaction from the usually aloof thief. There was a redness in Val's cheeks, and his breath was already becoming ragged, his companion wasn't pulling any punches. Her fingers moved slowly beneath her garments, her eyes switching between Val and Jaswinder, the golden woman watching from the corner of her glowing eye. Could she become aroused, Zhou wondered to herself, would the vessel that seemed so unsuited to her prudish demeanor betray her in some way? The pirate still hoped to change her mind, she wanted to get the relic into bed, to taste those unique and exquisite pleasures for herself. She wanted both the sublime, ornate body, and to defile the pure spirit that inhabited it. She was distracted from her lurid thoughts by a pained grunt from Val, and turned her attention back to him.
	Telaim closed his lips around the head of Val's erection, feeling it pulse against his tongue like a second heart, painting its tender flesh with his saliva as he circled the glans with his wet muscle. Shivers ran up and down the vagrant's spine, his grip on the Elf's hair becoming tighter, Telaim growing more eager and excited as he felt the sting of it on his scalp. He longed to let the brute take him by the hair and plunge his member deep into his throat, tears streaming down his pink cheeks and his eyes rolling back into his head, just the way he liked it. But this was about more than getting off, it was a competition, and one that he intended to win.
	He sucked the impressive member a little deeper, pretending to struggle with it despite the fact that he could have swallowed a sizable cucumber without so much as flinching, it was his profession after all. Val didn't know that however, and Telaim suppressed a smile as he felt his erection flex in his mouth, batting his thick eyelashes at the thief as he slowly crawled his lips down the shaft.
	Valentin's steely resolve was melting, he was struggling to keep his hips from thrusting of their own accord, suddenly painfully aware of Zhou's sordid stare as she scrutinized them. The privateer liked to watch as much as she liked to participate, he could see her hand moving beneath her trousers, and he didn't dare to glance in Jas' direction. In a way he understood why Zhou had insisted that she be present, it was a little exciting on some base level to do this in front of something so perfect and divine, and he hoped that whatever God she served would forgive his transgressions. It was all in service of saving the world, after all, and he had done his level best to get her out of it.
	The little bastard's lips reached the base of his member, burying it to the hilt in his tight throat, slimy muscles massaging Val's length like a fist gloved in wet velvet. He gripped the Elf's fluffy hair, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but as that warm tongue struggled around his shaft he had to grit his teeth against the pleasure. The damned street urchin was trying to emasculate him in front of the captain and Jaswinder, this was revenge for the first time that they had met, to be sure. If he could get the Elf up onto the table then he'd destroy the cocky whore, but he wasn't sure that he could last that long, he had started off in a position of power but Telaim had turned the tables on him.
	The Elf didn't make a peep, he didn't even gag as he held Val for what felt like an age, a sly glint in his hazel eyes as he measured the thief's reaction. Finally he relented, sliding his lips back up the shaft to pause at the tip, trapping it in his mouth to keep Val on edge as strands of saliva clung to his throbbing erection. Telaim let the residue drip from his pink lips in globs, his eyes watering as he looked up at Val, rolling his cock around in his mouth. He pushed it into his cheek, bulging it, the inner flesh as smooth and as inviting as the insides of any woman. He gripped Val's member in his hand and stroked it slowly, keeping him excited, his palm made slick by the drool that coated it.
	"Having some trouble, Val?" Zhou asked, and he shot her a dirty look across the table, his burning face betraying his arousal to her. She smirked, biting her lower lip, her fingers still roving beneath her belt. "Seems like boys are your weakness, I knew that you swing both ways, but maybe we've discovered a preference?"
	"You just wait," Val replied indignantly, pointing his finger at her to punctuate his statement. "Once I've got him on his back, he'll be dancing to a different tune, I'll-" Telaim cut him off as he slammed his face down on his cock, driving it deep into his welcoming gullet again, so hot and tight that it forced an unbecoming gasp from the thief's lips. His squirming tongue shot out to taste Val's balls, and the man leaned back in his chair, temporarily dazed by the harsh sensations. The Elf had been so servile back in the brothel, but now he was unleashed, bold and furious as he subjected Val to his cruel attentions.
	Fine, if that was the way he wanted it, Val would oblige. He took a fistful of the Elf's silky hair and held him steady, thrusting into his mouth, Telaim choking in surprise as the head of Val's erection slammed into the back of his throat. He looked up at him as he blinked tears from his hazel eyes, but he wasn't angry, if anything he looked all the more excited.
	Encouraged by the little Elf's doe eyed, comely gaze, he started to set his own pace as Telaim gripped his thighs and struggled to accommodate his member. His throat closed around Val's organ in a vice grip, smooth, slimy muscle squeezing him and spasming in rolling waves that rippled up and down the length of his shaft like massaging fingers. His tongue battered the underside in futility, licking and teasing as the thief plunged deeper and faster, saliva dripping from the Elf's full lips in thick strands as Valentin slid in and out.
	It was so warm, so wet, slippery enough to be almost frictionless as Telaim held the throbbing member in his gullet. He could feel it flexing inside him, his gag reflex struggling to surface as he suppressed it, swallowing around the intruder as if trying to draw it deeper. Val used his hair for leverage, pulling back and letting him take a faltering breath, before pushing him back down to wrap his lips around the base.
	Telaim felt a shiver run though his body, his erection was straining against his clothing, aroused beyond reason by his treatment at the hands of the cocksure thief. A kind of anger was rising in him at the thought that he was so easily swayed by handsome men who treated him like a toy , but this was just the way he liked it, rough and raw.
	Val began to thrust into his mouth, fucking the Elf's face as he held him by the hair, Zhou's eyes widening at the vigor of it. Just when Telaim thought that he might choke, Val slid him off his member, his lips connected to the pulsing organ with a mess of thick saliva that rolled down his chin in fat b lobs. Wasting no time, Val lifted him under the arms and threw him onto the table, the Elf landing on his back and scattering the silverware. Zhou clapped excitedly, rocking in her seat as the thief hooked his fingers around Telaim's belt and dragged his trousers down, discarding them on the floor.
	His erection bounced free, Val tracing the curve of his hip with his hand, and running his fingers across his flat belly as he squirmed and dripped with anticipation. Valentin tore open his shirt, the buttons bouncing away across the lavish tablecloth, exposing his milky skin and pink nipples. Telaim bucked as Val leaned down to take one into his mouth, trapping it between his teeth and his tongue, the stubble on his chin scratching against the Elf's soft chest. The thief tugged and bit, sucking at it and battering it with his tongue, sliding an arm beneath the Elf's raised haunches to take a handful of his plump ass and dig his fingers into the delicate meat.
	Telaim bucked and writhed on the table, his spine arching as Val ravished him, crawling his lips down his flush belly and towards his leaking member. The vagrant grabbed a nearby goblet, splashing its contents on Telaim's belly, red wine pooling in his navel and wetting his hairless skin. He crooned as Val drank, licking up the sticky liquid and biting softly as he went, Telaim's modest erection jumping in the air as he delved his slim fingers into the thief's dark hair for purchase. Val poked his tongue into the Elf's navel, drawing out the wine, his warm tongue scouring the Elf's satin skin in search of every last drop. Telaim's eyelids fluttered, his breath coming hard and heavy, it wasn't quite the honey that he so enjoyed using on clients but it was close enough.
	Just when he thought that the gruff man might take him into his mouth, he pulled back, a calloused hand finding Telaim's neck and tightening around it. The Elf loosed a lurid groan, opening his thighs as if on command, raising his butt as Val gritted his teeth and took his cock in his hand. Telaim felt the head bump against his cheek, slippery and wet with the saliva from their cruel session a few moments prior, as hot as an iron in a forge and as hard as granite. He bit his lip and flinched as Val's member pressed between his pale cheeks, pushing up against his twitching bud as he wrapped his fingers around the thief's hairy wrist, wanting to blurt out some lurid request to be fucked but silenced by the vagrant's firm hold on his throat.
	All he could muster was a squeak as Val pushed the tip of his member inside the wriggling Elf, tight enough that it made the usually stoic man wince, even with the copious drool that coated it. Val knew to go slow, he was so much larger than the slight Elf and did not want to risk injuring him, and yet he was a whore by profession and should be accustomed to far more callous treatment at the hands of his clients. Keeping one hand firmly around the Elf's neck, much to his delight it seemed, he gripped him by the hip and thrusted deeper.
	The table shook, and Telaim lurched, precome welling at the tip of his rigid member as Val's vascular organ penetrated him. It split him open, his mind exaggerating its length and girth as he felt its contours graze his sensitive insides, his passage gripping it like a leather glove as it throbbed and swelled within him. Val had to pause for a moment, the exquisite sensation of the Elf's silken flesh pressing around him almost enough to send him over the edge, but then he steeled himself and pushed deeper. He forced himself all the way to the hilt, the Elf's muscles squeezing him like a fist, the mess of slippery saliva easing his passage as the Elf moaned and shivered.
	Telaim's member twitched and leaked a steady stream of excitement, a tingling jolt of pleasure spreading through his body like a wave as Val's shaft grazed his prostate, his nails digging into Val's skin as he started to move on top of him. His pace was slow, gentle, and yet the fit was so tight that Telaim could feel every vein and every throb of warm blood that passed through them. Beyond a certain depth there was nothing but a dull ache, Val's erection bulging his flat stomach much to Zhou's glee, but every nerve that the Elf had was being lit up. He couldn't help but grin drunkenly when pressure was put on his sweet spot, the wracking pleasure intoxicating, dizzying him with every powerful thrust that rocked the table.
	Zhou leaned forward to get a better look, watching Telaim's red face as Val slammed into him, his red cheeks still covered with strings of saliva. Jas was staring intently at the far wall, her legs crossed away from them, and the pirate gave her a sly smirk.
	"What's wrong Jaswinder, aren't you enjoying the show?"
	She didn't reply, and Zhou laughed, her own cheeks flushed pink as Val plunged in and out of Telaim. She left her seat and walked around the edge of the table, standing beside Val as he thrusted his hips and sipped her goblet of wine. She reached out a tentative hand, pressing her finger against the moist tip of Telaim's penis, and both men loosed a groan as she chuckled to herself.
	"Does he tighten up when I touch him, Val? I'm sorry, he's a sensitive one."
	She stroked the Elf ever so lightly, playing her fingers up and down his shaft, dragging her nails across his belly and squeezing his balls. Telaim was beside himself, delirious with the overwhelming sensations, Val's member scouring his insides and milking his prostate as the pirate queen toyed with him. She lifted her finger, connected to his twitching member by a string of clear fluid, and watched it break to fall to his lightly muscled belly. She placed her hand below his navel, feeling Val's cock moving inside him under her palm, bulging outwards as he pushed deep into the writhing Elf's guts. She put more pressure on it, crushing Telaim's prostate between her hand and Val's rigid member, the Elf attempting to buck and writhe but held firmly in place by the hand that was clasped around his neck.