Some call it the Dark Continent. Other's call it Desarke in the old Basilean tongue. There are a few who even speak its name 'Watchite' in the language of the natives. Colloquially, it's known the Southlands. No sane man travels there, I've heard. It's a wilderness of steaming jungles and deadly rivers. Deserts and hoodoo rock formations touching the skies. Even the land of the God-Kings is located here, where sorcery of unimaginable depravity is performed and children are sacrificed to heathen death-gods. On the west coast, the mysterious elves make their homes and live as seafarers and await the return of their deities.

Below that is where men call the Black Delta. Where vast jungles cover the corpses of dead empires and men hack away at the forest until the forest bites back in return. I don't know about sane, but only the fool hardy or the very desperate immigrate, as beasts beyond scholarly knowledge lurk in the waters and stalk beneath the tree canopies. Diseases of unknown origin proliferate and eat at the very flesh, and that is only the beginning of one's troubles. The Southlands are dangerous, and known by many names.

For me? I call it home.

Thornton was abuzz with activity. I had been here many times, but I felt fortunate I didn't live here. The streets, many of them wooden planks set up by supports over the Sarka river, were packed with desperate refugees and irate locals. The Inns had been filled up for a week, and it was all the mayor could do to keep order in the streets. He had finally found an excuse to let his local thugs have 'fun' and beat anyone who was caught with a minor infraction, throwing them out of town to die in the wilderness or buy their way out of the jail cells located beneath the town, where water seeped into the floor and men had been known to drown there. Once, long ago, I heard of a man who had disappeared. Something had broken through the wall from the water and had taken him. I had fond memories of this place, and though the ownership had always been cruel, it was a reliable stop before one had to hop from outpost to outpost until there was any semblance of civilization along the coast. But something had happened to Bloodmud. Some cataclysmic mudslide or a rampaging tyrant-beast, but whatever had happened, the way there was shut, and the last barges to go upriver had gone days ago.

I was all there was left. My raft and my services.

The locals knew me well enough. I made berth here a few times a year during the wet seasons where the rivers overflowed and made passage easier, and I'd come here since I was a small boy. The shopkeeper and dock-men were always kind, and I saw new people every visit with tales of far off lands to the north. I had never been anywhere but in the delta, and though I had read of knights, castles, and snow peaked mountains in my books, I knew I would never appreciate it as much as this land. Despite its unforgiving nature, there was a beauty about it I could never put to words.

Now I waited on the deserted east docks, where old man Filden had set himself down to fish and his hound Humphrey sat just beside him, panting in the light of the noonday sun. I sat beside the crates, out of sight of any eyes that scanned the scalding wooden planks just above the jetty where the craft lay. The mayor nor his men had ever had a problem with my services before, but he was squeezing these people for all they were worth. He wouldn't want my lightening the load. And so I waited under the sun, closing my eyes and lounging by the last bit of flour the last barge had left, letting Filden act the part of guide until all were there.

I had a contact in the town, one that would find the best money to be had for the most desperate to leave. Whoever they found, I would take. Some might say I had a bit too much faith in other locals, but people born here were so rare, there was a kinship there others couldn't understand. In my defense, I had not been expecting to go to sleep, but I did drift off. Little did I know I would wake up to get my first look at the vivacious lady Emmaline Von Morgenstern and company, and it would change my simple life forever.

The Southlands were hot. Most people probably think they know that but unless you have been there you really can’t appreciate the fact. You can be warm in Andred or Vrettonia on a summers day and you can certainly be hot in Arad Lund, but you cant be really hot unless you are in the southlands. The air clung close around me as I walked through Thornton. It was a dirty little town of half warped jungle wood and thatched rooves, though a few of the more prosperous places had tiles of unglazed clay. Everything stank of the river mud and rot. Even the streets were little more than dirt, indifferently finished with corduroy road that was probably more dangerous for age and decay than the quagmire they covered would have been. Civilization had landed here and then grown sick of some tropical disease, stalling out on the coast and withering like a lettuce plucked from the ground. Human civilization had anyway. Rumors had always abounded of older civilizations further inland, long decayed or simply hidden. Yellowpatch made it difficult to know, as most expeditions returned decimated by the disease, if they returned at all. I was counting on those rumors and doing my best to quietly encourage them. Of course the plan had been to simply sell the ‘ancient map’ I had uncovered in my ‘family library’ to this party of Vrettonian rubes. It was a scam I had run more than a few times, hammer a few pieces of lead into exotic form, guild them with magic to make them look like gold, tell a few tall tales to encourage people to think I really knew of some ancient ruins in the southlands. The trick was, as always, not to appear too keen to part with the knowledge. People always trusted knowledge more if they had to drag it out of you, and if I could get a few meals out of it who was I to argue. I had not counted on this particular group of marks though. Gauln, the leader, was a Knight of Vrettonia, though his lineage had been in decline for many years and had seemed an easy mark. I hadn’t counted on his romantic streak however. My own story of being from an ancient but impoverished line had clearly struck a nerve and at the last minute he had refused merely to buy my alleged map. Instead he had insisted I come with him, so we could restore our houses together. Id tried to plead of, but he had been insistent and promised more money, worst of all I could see in the eyes of his grim faced squire that he was beginning to get suspicious of my reticence to accompany them. That bit about people trusting things they had to work for worked both ways, there was only so much objection I could raise to something that would clearly appear too good to be true.



“According to the map, we have to travel up river to a falls and then procced overland,” Gauln remarked for the hundredth time. I thanked the Gods that I’d copied an actual map of the Southlands when I drew it.

“We will need to find a boat to take us upriver, it would take us months to cover the distance on foot,” I said sagely. In truth I knew little to nothing about trekking through jungles. My only goal was to find a good time to slip away from Gauln and his band, preferabley once they had committed to going up river and I had relieve them of what little gold they had left.



“We should buy supplies,” Locke, the hardfaced squire said. He gave me a look that mingled desire and skepticism. I certainly was dressed like I was an Andredan noble heading out into the jungle. A broad black hat of dark leather with one side folded up in musketeer fashion. A leopard skin shawl over a linen mantle over a cotton shirt which covered me to the wrist. I even wore dark grey gloves of soft doeskin to protect me from the ever present mosquitos. I had stout trouser which tucked into knee high boots of polished leather and I carried both a sword and a slung fusil along with a cartridge box and several other items of adventuring gear. Most of it was as foregin to me as this stinking town was, but with luck it would only be a few days before I was on a ship headed back north. Perhaps to Arad Lund, or one of the Islands. I had heard that Calaverde was nice this time of year.



“I can make the arrangements,” I declared blithely, eager for a chance to spend Gauln’s gold and skim a bit more off the top for my own use.

“I wouldn’t dream of it my lady,” Locke simpered, “afterall you need to find us an appropriate boat, a much more essential task.”

I slept peacefully, if one might call a log peaceful. It was honestly pretty hard to wake me up, something I inherited from my dad. Both of us were strong, big eaters, and heavy sleepers. I trusted Filden to sufficiently wake me when the time came, but enough about me. Let's check back in with the other player in the story.

This next bit will be from what she later told me, so the details might be a bit fuzzy. But here it goes: I didn't know it yet (and I wouldn't for some time), but Emmaline was a fucking good liar and con artist. She had finangled these two guys, Gauln and Locke, with her charms and a story that would make a great novel. Topping it off with one of her many costumes, she played them like a fiddle and they actually bought most of what she said. Of course, lying can lead to some poor consequences and now she found herself being tugged around and forced to find a boat.

Her eyes were sharp as her wit, luckily. Through the throng of the desperate and destitute, she found a pair of beady eyes that scanned her would-be suitor with open greed, something she could appreciate and recognize easily enough, I bet. I don't know why, but when she gets that look in her eyes it drives me nuts. Anyway, slipping through the crowd, she found someone I could have told her to avoid if we had known each other. A known scoundrel named Anwir. He smells like piss and it's hard to miss, and no I didn't mean to rhyme. He had himself a small corner shop with a small roof that could barely keep out the sun let alone rain.

Gauln almost had a conniption when he thought he had lost her, but he was taller than many of the immigrants and saw her across the river of people. I know I could spot that ass out of a lineup, but judging by what she's told me about him, he was deeply enamored with her. Locke was more savvy to her games, but he had most men's weakness and didn't want a pretty girl to disappear. Even if it's not the normal reasons, if he found she was lying and could prove it, he would get a big reward from his boss.

"A boat?" Anwir asked aloud. His voice sibilant and loathesome. Most of his hair had receded, and a small patch of it formed above his upper lip looking like someone had shoved a caterpillar on it. He had swindled a lot of people out of their money, but he wasn't used to Emmaline. She did that thing girls do where they press their arms close to their chest and looked at him with her big blue eyes. He still wouldn't get fooled out of his own money, but it buttered him up. "All the boats are gone, but there is a way to get on the water..."

"What is it?" Emmaline asked as Gauln found her.

"Step away from him!" He told Emmaline, stepping between the two and grabbing at his sword. He might be estranged of his lands, but he looked every inch a noble. "Who are you, cur?"

"Merely a humble purveyor of information, my lord. I saw you and your lady were of means and I felt it was terrible to see you walking amongst the riff-raff. As I told her, there are no boats left. But there is a craft that would go downriver, and you're in luck. It's to leave today at noon. But that's not all..."

"Noon?" Emmaline and Gauln said together, though she was aghast and he had laughed out the word. It was almost noon just then!

"I also happen to have a souvenir, something I found at an auction down in Darkwater..." He said with a bitter smile, producing a piece of brass, formed in a long hexagonal shape with two sharpened points, perfectly proportioned. He held it before their eyes for a lingering moment, before setting it down on the small table set before him.

"Why do you wish to sell us this?" Locke asked, daring to speak before his master. Gauln seemed to give him leave, however, and so he continued. "Where is this raft you speak of?"

"Why the eastern docks." Arwin hissed, and he placed his hands on the table, standing up and leaning over it to look Gauln in the eye. "But you won't get on it without a ticket. One I could provide, and I will if you would but purchase this item. This, my lord, is the key to the ancient city of Tzecholitchi. A fabled city of untold treasures. I've heard tell it's in the jungle nearby, with treasure just waiting to be taken."

"Why not simply allow me to purchase the ticket? Why care about this...key?" Gauln asked.

Arwin laughed. "Ah, a question only an educated man could form. But my secrets are my own. You see this...this... what? Where the fuck is it?"

The scoundrel looked down at the table to find his glorious key now missing. Gaul and Locke's eyes followed his gaze, and then they looked to their side. God I wish I had been there, I would have laughed my ass off. As you could probably guess, Emmaline was now gone. And it took only a minute for the panicked lord to take his squire's advice and check his coin purse to find it missing as well.

---

"Wake up boy, they're here." Filden said, shaking me awake. My world came rushing back, and I let out a grunt. My body was warm and felt very nice indeed, but living with the dwarves had helped me get a healthy work ethic. I got up without complaint, thanking the old man who mumbled a complaint. I smiled. Blinking, my eyes adjusted to the scene laden before me with a new crowd.

There was a young man, well groomed and in the robes of a scholar who stood waiting alone. I couldn't guess his origins... some northerner. Next to him were three conquistadors, wearing morion helmets and sporting breastplates. Their mustaches were of the Dre Costan fashion, and they carried sideswords and primitive arquebus. They chatted amongst themselves, arguing in their tongue over something specific. Standing nearest the dock was a woman, if I had to guess close to her forties. She had long brown hair and a workman's apron on, bedecked with tools and a shawl. The last one was an older gentlemen with a red merchant's tabard and a plumed hat. He looked at everyone and everything like they had been found wanting, something that would grate most people. I didn't care, as long as he had payment for a ticket.

"Alright," I said, drawing their attention. They all turned, their aimless gazes and thoughts interrupted when they looked at me. I was distinctly aware of what most of them thought; I was used to it. My skin was caramel and kissed by the sun, and my features, though not unlike theirs in some ways, were somewhat alien in others. I was a half-blood, wearing strange clothes in a strange land. I wasn't offended by the looks. Stuff like that didn't bother me. But if something poor came out of it, that was a different story. I gave them a smile. "I'm Beren, I'm your guide. We're going as far as Stranglecreek, down river."

"Not up river? I was told..." The young man asked, the elderly merchant nodded in agreement and speaking his mind. "Yes, can we not go north?"

"There's nothing north but jungle and elves, and desert if you go far enough. The river the barges use isn't fit for anything less than a full ship to sail. Water's too rough. You can go with me or stay here."

Needless to say, they gave me their money. Just when I was about to list the rules, I saw her. She came sprinting out of the alley like her ass was on fire.

There is an art to making a quick getaway. It has some of the same ingredients as a regular con. Planning: Pick a spot with a concealed exit. Misdirection: Get your mark looking at something else. Timing: Wait for the precise moment when you can slip away. It also has one additional element. Run like the Demon's of hell are behind you. People don't typically expect you to run, particularly if you spend some time with them and make certain never to do more than saunter. By the time they can react you will be surprised at how far away you can be. Its also worth knowing that all the ass hauling in the world wont help you if you aren't running somewhere in particular, preferably somewhere your mark wont be able to follow. In a pinch you can use a whorehouse. Most brothels don't bat an eye at a pretty girl rushing in, but the bouncers take a dim view of an angry looking man trying to charge through the door. I doubt there was a brothel in Thornton fit to kennel dogs, and in any case, I had a better option.

"Wait!" I shouted, though they didn't seem in imminent risk of pushing on without me. It always helps to get people in the right mindset though, and I wanted the handsome bargeman to be thinking about leaving post haste. I hoped down the pier and leaped onto the raft. I unhooked the mooring rope and shoved off, probably to everyone's shock, and then turned and put myself in position to block any attempt to tie back up. It would only take a few seconds for us to slip away from the dock, and a man will rarely crash tackle a woman if he has any other option. We slipped out onto the black water of the river.

"Thank goodness," I breathed, bending down and placing my hands on my thighs. "Those bastards thought they could kidnap me." I gave the shocked boatman, a thankful smile. Beren looked shocked, an expression which, I'm both pleased and ashamed to say, I engendered on many more occasions in the future.

Needless to say I was bewildered. She had bounded out of nowhere and leaped right onto the raft. I had to leap on there with her with my pole and halt the raft by sticking the staff into the water to halt the craft so the others could clamber on, getting their legs and feet wet. It didn't enamor them with the newcomer, and I admit I was hesitant to take her on. If there was one thing that led to deaths on the river, it was chaos and a lack of cooperation. It already wasn't off to a great start, and as the last of them got on and threw their bags onto the craft, I turned and regarded the woman with my arms crossed.

"Wait a minute, who are-..." I started, but she thanked me. Looking at this noblewoman in trouble, I knew in the end I would let her stay. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I left someone in need stranded there, particularly a woman who had just escaped pursuers. Behind me the others began to grumble.

"Who in ze hell is that!" One of the Dre Costans called over my shoulder.

"Did you not see her? I say let her stay." Another said with obvious lust.

"Did she even pay?" the woman asked as the dock drifted away. I had not yet begun guiding the craft, but it was slowly moving with the current. I looked at the golden haired woman and sighed, a smile growing on my face. I really shouldn't have done so, but it just wasn't in me to not accept her. Still, I had to do something. In her hands she clutched a weird object. I took it out of her hands with a quick, nimble slip of the fingers. When she started to protest, I gave a wink and leaned in.

"I'll reimburse you later," I told her, letting her know I wasn't keeping it. "Yeah, she paid. Aristocrats get a discount, anyway. They keep the waterways safe with their trade, after all."

The merchant snorted his hooked nose at that, likely having tried to buy his way into nobility, or had been outsourced by one on the northern continent, or maybe he was simply jealous? I never asked. I tried not to get involved with any passengers unless they were open to talk, but this new woman I was definitely curious about. If nothing else I would speak with her and tell her about where we were going, since she probably had no idea. No doubt she had questions too.

I turned from her to address the group, opening my mouth to speak. I was interrupted by a cry from the dock, now twenty paces away and sliding further and further in the distance. Two men were shouting obscenities. One look at the other passengers and I could tell they were equally as confused, so I assumed they were the kidnappers. I pointed at them and looked at the noble woman. "Are those the guys?"

She nodded, buttoning her lip. I turned back at the men on the dock waving their hands, one of them swinging about an unsheathed sword. I admit I was pissed off at them, and it would do both me and the newcomer some good to let off some steam, or watch me do it.

"Yeah, you can kiss my ass!" I cried, stepping over to the butt of the craft and cupping my hands by my mouth. "Hope the wailing plague take you, bitches!"

I admit it wasn't professional, but the sexy aristocrat seemed to like it and a few of the others who weren't wide eyed chuckled at my manner. I then regained my dignity and cleared my throat, before going back to do what I did every time I shipped people or goods downriver. I needed to lay the ground rules. The water was dark, even with the noonday sun hitting it through the canopy of tropical trees that loomed above us, their trunks equally comfortable on land or submerged in the shallows. Bubbles popped up in streams every now and then and fish hopped out of the water in ubiquitous spurts. It all looked so calm, but soon it might get less safe for those who did not take care.

"Ok, sorry for both interruptions. Now... I know none of you are familiar with this land, so here is what I require of you to come on this journey: You do what I say, when I say it. I won't command you to do anything unless it is for your own safety and those around you. I need you to never put your hands and feet in the water unless I say so. Don't ever pick anything unless I say so. Don't make loud noises like I just did, unless you're in desperate need for help, and even then do so cautiously. Don't fight with one another or fraternize in whatever way you wish until we make it to the outpost..."

I was lucky I turned my head then. One of the conquistadors had drawn his gun and was setting it to his shoulder to carefully aim, one eye closing and the other glaring down the sight. I saw the flint lit and moved quickly, shoving the gun barrel up and licking my fingers before pinching the fuse out. The Dre Costan looked at me like I was daft, and he might be right in other circumstances but in this instance he was about to do something stupid. I looked at where he was aiming and saw what he was about to shoot.

It looked like a large rock basking beside a tree, the tree roots having slithered into the riverbank. I imagine it looked very much like a statue to most of them. The conquistador had probably been looking at it for some time. Moss covered what looked like a scaled form with a shell. Its ridges sharpened into rough points along the carapace. Whoever had carved it had a lot of time on their hands, being as large as it was. But as theirs eyes focused, they would dreadfully realize it wasn't a statue. It was a beast, armored and primordial in countenance. It lounged beside the river, not ten paces from the raft.

"And don't shoot anything unless I say it." I told him firmly.

"Look at the size of that thing! It's worth its weight in gold if we can just-"

"That's Grik-Tache. He's a local beast the town values." I informed him, letting go of his gun. I honestly felt like he was an idiot at the time. Even if he killed the creature (and that was a big if), we were at capacity. What would he store on the craft? "If you shot him, it wouldn't kill him. He'd just get pissed off and come over here and sink us. He's harmless unless provoked anyway."

"So it's a...town... death-turtle?" The new woman asked, incredulous.

I laughed. "Kinda. It's a Cleaver-mouth. This one has been here for thirteen years. He doesn't like the taste of people and he keeps the other beasts away. Don't bother him and he'll keep the town safe, but the last person that hit him was by accident, and he took their leg. Just leave him be. We're lucky we saw him, actually. Usually he's not so close to town."

With that, the commotion died down and everyone withdrew to looking at the water and treeline, either deep in thought or to see if they could spot anything else I imagined. As for me, I took my pole and gently pressed against the riverbed, guiding the raft forward, standing right by the golden haired woman. Slowly I reached into my pocket and handed her the strange item back, our fingers brushing for a brief moment.

"Would you like to tell me who you are, my lady? I bet this isn't the usual transportation you're used to." I told her with a wink.

Being underway I felt my heart lighten despite this idiot boatman nearly spoiling the whole thing by delaying the departure. Worse yet he stole whatever I had just legitimately obtained. I couldn't even zap him owing to the fact that I couldn't steer a barge. At least he seemed to have prevented us from being eaten by a giant killer turtle, which I guess was something.

"I am Lady Emmaline Von Morganstern," I replied hautily, using the thickest Andread accent I could manage. I lifted my chin with aristocratic disdain.

"And you are mistaken, I have traveled to many place and on many conveyances," I told him, playing the role of the world weary adventureress. I shifted the strap of the fusil on my shoulder to emphasise my point. I could feel the Dre Costan mercenaries on me, measuring me up. They looked like a rough crowd and I knew I was no match for them with either my sword or the fusil. Truthfully I could hardly use either, they were just props I had used to trick my marks into assuming I was the sort of person who might actually have a map of treasures in unknown jungles.

"I can see you know the rivers, that is good," I said, more to keep talking than from any real interest.

"You can get us safely up river I trust?"

Emmaline Von Morganstern!? I had never heard of a more haughty, illustriously lavish name in his entire life. Just hearing it made me see courts of posh aristocrats and high born popinjays flocking to one another to see who had the bigger stretch of land. I tried not to laugh, and thankfully I succeeded with a will. But a smile still played on my lips. Gods, I really did escort everyone on these journeys, didn't I? Maybe next time I'll would meet some Lord named Duke Constantius Von Hohenstaufen or something.

Still, despite the profuse name, she was a woman traveling alone and wielding weapons. He had to respect it. Hell, she even held a dwarf weapon, or so it looked like. There were very few flintlock firearms out there, after the supposed extinction of the gnomes and the dwarves halting their trade of black powder weaponry. Even with connections, I wondered how she managed to grab one. It was more advanced than the conquistador's firearms, for certain.

Once I handed her treasure back to her, she seemed to lighten up and saw fit to grace me with conversation. I couldn't hide my wry smile at her comment on how I knew the river. Maybe she wasn't used to speaking with someone as uncouth as me. I was probably practically barbaric, or the an image of the 'noble savage' I had heard from certain Andredian works.

"Well, my lady Von Morganstern..." I began, gently pushing the pole into the soft riverbed to swing us to the right. My manner was purposefully easy, but my eyes were on the trees and waters before us. "In this land there are no guarantees, but if you stick close to me, I'll give you my word you'll make it to your destination safe and sound. I was born here and made this trip many times." I finished my pledge by pushing the raft to the left, my muscles growing large from the exertion.

"I've noticed you've been avoiding going under certain trees. Why is that?" The blonde woman asked. She was sharper than I gave her credit for. I guess nobles did get expensive educations. I didn't fathom it was because she was used to her own extensive use of tricks and slights of hand.

I sighed, somewhat enjoying the answering of questions but also not wishing to start a panic. I looked up, and then to the left at a curve in the river. I redirected the raft to meander across a deeper section of river, past a decaying skeleton of a large beast even I could not recognize.

"You certain you're not imagining things?" I asked with a grin, clearly joking whilst also being extremely transparent about stalling for time. Emmaline gave me a knowing look, and I gritted his teeth and exhaled. Well, I didn't want to cause any sort of panic but... "There are these trees called Makishan Trees. They... well you don't want to be under them. They uh... they drip acid."

Silence filled the boat, save for a few gasps. I could feel their growing worry, could see it in their eyes. I took a deep breath. "It mostly just happens when it rains, but the water and the sap together fall off and can burn through clothing, skin, and maybe the raft if we're not careful. Don't worry, they aren't everywhere. They're only on this section of the journey. I just want to be safe."

"You wan- You want to be safe!?" Emmaline balked incredulously, standing to her feet and placing her hands on her shapely hips.

"And you like this land!?" The woman sporting the apron asked with disbelief from behind them.

"No wonder the old Empire could not hold here for long." A conquistador muttered, gripping his arquebas tighter.

"Sit down and don't yell," I told them, especially Emmaline.

"I say sir, I do believe we might benefit for some lunch!" The old merchant in the back exclaimed, oblivious to the current conversation. I looked back to tell him to be quiet like I told the others, but my words died on my lips when I looked back. A tentacle-like appendage had risen out of the waters, small pincers unlatching from its hide to form into a grasping protuberances. It suddenly slapped down on the old man's shoulder, gripping into his skin and flesh and yanking him into the water with unbelievable force.

"Murk beast!" I cried, dropping my pole and taking out my axe. Even now I could see a serapod-like head rise out, filled with saber teeth and malevolence in its near lifeless eyes. I had never seen one before, but I knew all about them. Many tentacled abominations, both reptilian and cephalopod and yet neither all at once. It's main body was the size of an ox and they were intensely territorial.

And perpetually hungry.

"Shizen!" I shouted as the merchant hit the water in a murky spray. The boat errupted in chaos as everyone ran for the far edge. The raft tipped precipitously. I unslung the fusil and brought it up to my shoulder by reflex and squeezed the trigger. The weapon thumped against my shoulder as it went off with a crash. I had never fired it before and had no idea how to use it properly. Though I could hardly be described as 'aiming', I pointed the barrel in the general direction of the things head. The tentacle holding the merchant exploded in a spray of blood and ichor a few inches above where it gripped his leg. It looked like a masterful piece of shooting for all it was the product of sheer dumb luck and the merchant managed to flail to the edge of the raft and pulled himself gasping onto the canted deck. I lowered the fusil, tried briefly to remember how to reload it, and then slung it again, drawing my sword with an appropriate flourish.

The wounded beast wasn't giving up its prize without a fight however. Three more tentacles struck at the raft. One wrapped a barrel of supplies, the other snatched a conquistador. Before he could be pulled into the water, Beren cut down with his axe, severing the wrist thick appendage with a butchers clop. Water sprayed up in a vast bow wave as the creature hauled itself up against the raft, easily counteracting the combined weight of the passengers. Slavering jaws snapped and gnashed bare feet away and I backed up frantically, bumping the second conquistador knocking musket a side a second before it fired. Splinters flew in all directions.

"Watch where you are going you dumb bitch!" he screamed, eyes half bugged out of his head with fear. A tentacle lashed at me and I made a slash with my sword that was two weak to do more than knock the thing away. It lashed back irritabley and grabbed me around the waist. I screamed and made another ineffectual slash. Beren's axe severed it but instead of relaxing the nerve impusles constricted it around me so that it half squeezed the breath out of me. I yelped an incantation and electricity sparked along the length of the severed limb. It flopped free and fell into the river with a spash of water and a hiss of steam.

It had half pulled itself onto the boat now, wild with pain and flailing with its remaining tentacles, pummeling our gear and the surivors with wanton abandon.

The woman with the apron had wisely leaped out of the raft, treading water toward the shoreline. One glance showed me she was going on the correct side which was good, though a small measure of comfort as the large raft began to tip, it's right side submerged and its left side sliding up into a 60 degree angle. The merchant hit the water, as did most of his supplies and merchanside. The mercenaries fired their weapons into the monster, but their wild shots only bloodied it or pierced tentacles. It gave a loud, undulating screech as it opened its maw.

"Eep!" Emmaline squeaked, and then screamed as she lost her grip on the raftboards and slid swiftly towards the monster's many-teethed mouth. Looking back, it was lucky aristocrats and adventurers both wore many belts and baldrics on their person, otherwise it would have turned out very nasty for her. My right hand holding the side of the raft that tipped upwards, I made a grab for her belt and managed to slip three fingers through the leather loop, her scream ending in a panic gasp when she felt her weight returning and her large rump was no longer sliding precariously closer to the monstrosity. A tentacle slapped at the boards just below her dangling feet but couldn't reach her, and she curled her legs up and looked up at me hanging on like an ape.

"I told you you'd be alright." I said to her with a reassuring, if strained smile. Like a dwarf, my word was my bond. I wouldn't let a thing happen to her after I said it, though that was the plan for everyone when we first set out. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep all of them alive.

The mercenaries had scrambled, one having successfully hacked off a tentacle with his sidesword before diving into the water. The other was clumsier, falling ass-first into the river but surfacing a moment later, making strong strokes toward the shore. The third conquistador was less lucky, having been caught on the center of the craft as it upturned. He slid towards the monster, and though I saw him manage to grab at a board, he was ensconced in tentacles and unceremoniously shoved into the monstrosities mouth. It was like watching a shark swallow something like a snake would.

"Eugh," Emmaline and I said unison, dangling above the maw. We looked away as the man's screams were engulfed by his form sliding down the creature's throat.

"Pull me up! Pull me up!" The lady Emmaline cried. I didn't need to be told twice, hauling her up and telling her to grab onto me with a 'hold on!' Unfortunately, she did it a bit too well, her arms wrapping around my neck as tightly as a constrictor. My neck was strong, but she had the desperate strength of survival and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. The raft began to crack, and I wheezed a 'too tight!' as I clambered up. Her grip lessened marginally, but she wrapped her legs around my waist, her buxom form pressing against my hard body. Normally I would have been hot and bothered, but I found it was probably the best thing she could do in that situation.

Desperately I raised a leg atop the raft's side, and just as the wood collapsed I made a leap like a frog. Emmaline squealed as we sailed through the air, but my aim was pretty well made. My fingers found a bough covered in moss hanging over the river, my powerful arms moving swiftly as I used my hands to move us from over the river to where dry land awaited. The monster behind us groaned, but it did not make another sound. After being so wounded, along with a stomach full of mercenary, it was likely content to stay away from the group now. The last I saw of it, the raft fell atop its mass as both sunk.

What I was curious on was why it had even been here? Those type of creatures did not go to this part of the river unless something had moved it from its den. Of course, there are always rare sightings and flukes, but it did not sit right with me. I pondered this as we swayed back and forth with the movement of my arms, and once over the hard ground of the riverside, I dropped. I bent my knees to lessen the fall, but an 'oof' escaped my lips from the added weight of another person clinging to me.

Trees crowded around us, vines and moss hanging from branches like threads to tug on. The ground was covered in dead leaves and dark soil, and to my relief I saw the rest of the group. The woman with the apron coughed out water, but in her hands she held my staff and she seemed to be relatively alright. The merchant wrung his hat out, water spilling out of it, but for a posh old man he did not seem to dispirited from almost being devoured.

"It's that bitches fault!"

The other two mercenaries were the only ones standing, drenched in river water and bleeding from various swipes from the tentacles. The lead one's mustache drooped like the moss hanging above. He still had his rifle, though the powder was no good, and both still had their swords. They glared daggers at Emmaline, who's face hung just above my shoulder. I glanced back at her and then glared at the mercenaries.

"It's no one's fault-" I started, but he cut me off.

"You're just saying that because you want her money! I should never have come on this expedition!" I saw a glint in his eye I didn't like. I also found it humorous he claimed I wanted her money when the only thing I took from her, I immediately gave it back. Then again, he didn't know that. The mercenary continued. "Where do we go from here, eh? Any advice mighty guide?"

"There's a trail a few miles north, but it doesn't end anywhere I know of." I admitted, thinking of our options. "But it does bring us closer to the outpost. We can hack our way through after it ends, if we must."

I discovered in short order that all the tales of romantic adventure in the Southlands conveniently left out the bugs. Probably dashing heroes were a deal less dashing after a pint or two of blood had been removed by various flying stinging insects. We hacked our way through the trail in what Beren assured us was a northerly direction. The snakes too were a problem and for me particualarly, not because I was stung, bitten?, or anything like that. My problem was a bit more complicated. After about an hour of chopping our way through steamy jungles, Beren struck a vine with his axe and as it parted a large greenish snake fell to the ground. By this point the party had become rather used to avoiding the reptiles that seemed to lurk in every bush and behind every rock. This one landed beside Beren who backed rapidly away, spreading his arms to ward the rest of us back.

"It's an emerald viper," he hissed, "invariably deadly. Very aggressive." The snake didn't seem immediately aggressive, but it reared back like I had seen cobra's do in Arad Lund and scanned the front rank for a likely target. It's eyes fell on each of us in turn until it fell on me and paused. I stifled the urge to yelp, thinking the thing was about to attack. Instead it seemed to bow its head at me and then turned and slithered away into the brush.

"What in the hell..." Beren muttered, "never seen one just back off before."

One of the conquistadors rounded on me and thrust out a finger as though about to decry me as a Mervegian heretic.

"She is a witch woman!" Which was true. "She has power of snakes!" Which was demonstrably not. I scoffed, more for the need to say something than from any real plan.

"Our mighty friend here is a teensy bit scared of snakes," I told the party at large, earning myself a murderous look from both men.

"Not to worry fellows, I'll protect you from the scaled menace," I boasted then stuck out my tongue and made a hissing noise. Both conquistadors flinched and then colored, earning a smattering of chuckles from the rest of the shipwrecked, raftwrecked?, passengers.

"The trail isn't too far ahead," Beren interjected, clearly eager to forestall a fight, an instinct I was all to pleased to see given I'd be fighting two armed men with a gun that didn't have any ammunition and a sword I was barely competent to draw from it's scabbard.

"Then lets get onto it by all means... if you gentlemen are quite ready?" I asked the fuming conquistadors with elaborate patience.

The next few hours were relatively uneventful. The jungle floor skittered with small, furry creatures and huge centipedes that clung from branches and boughs and wiggled their antennae as the group passed. Large snakes curled around branches lazily, and we even passed a fresh carcass of some porcine beasts that had its stomach ripped open and excavated. Once it grew to night, we camped in a bare clearing with only a short fire that lasted long enough for us to cook what little supplies we had. I didn't want to risk a lot of smoke from the moistened wood and we needed to rise early if we wanted to make good time. The conquistadors spoke to one another in their mother tongue, and while I did not know her very well, I decided to keep close to the lady Emmaline so they did not get any funny ideas of witch burning.

After a restless sleep with no incident, we arose and continued on. Luckily we found a clear stream mid-morning and we filled our canteens, though I made sure to tell them we would need to boil the water just in case. They groaned but accepted the logic, and I made sure to cross the stream first to check for alligators. The huge beasts loved laying in wait in any water source, and even though they preferred larger ones, many used the small channels to travel from one swamp to the other. Luck was still on our side and the coast was clear, and we continued to trek across.

I found out the woman in the apron's name was Callibel, and the older merchant was Fletcher Heronmark of the Heronmark estates. Callibel didn't seem very interested in tell me why she was in this Black Delta, but Fletcher informed me it was his job to check out new prospects for his family's logging business. He wanted to go on one last trek before he passed, and insisted he used to be quite the adventurer. It was hard to see, but then again I probably wouldn't be the best judge.

Around early afternoon, after we stopped to boil some water for a bit and drank to our leisure, we heard what sounded like a bird call. The others paid no heed to it, but my blood ran cold. I recognized exactly what that was, and though I only whispered, there was an authority in my voice that gave everyone else pause.

"Stop. Stop moving," I said to them.

They wheeled on me, giving looks that ranged from annoyance to incredulity. Emmaline began to form a question, but even as she did so, there was a warning snarl from just up ahead, and then a guttural growl that threatened us to our left. The group unsheathed what weapons they had, but I didn't back away. I knew we were about to be herded. "No no, keep going forward." I urged them, and when they hesitated I marched at the head of the group and stepped just beyond the vines where the snarl had originated, axe at the ready.

Nothing.

My eyes caught alien shaped, human-sized prints and I turned back to the others. "We need to keep moving. They're trying to get us to go east into a tra-"

"Beren!" Emmaline cried. I blinked and spun, just in time to see a two-hundred pound raptor leap from its ambush spot behind the trunk of a black-barked tree. As tall as a man and twice as long, with a thick tail for balanced and razor sharp fangs and claws, it was a creature out of nightmare to most anyone. My staff spun, but I only gave the thing a glancing blow from a quick hit across the snout as it's rear leg kicked up, trying to disembowel me. I backstepped, sweat beading as it did not relent, snapping its maw at me. I lifted my staff to block and its teeth sank into the odari wood of the pole. Intelligence gleamed in its eyes as it shoved itself forward, trying to rend me with its claws as I held it at bay.

I leaped up and kicked out with my foot, striking it at the center of its powerful neck. The blow caused it to wheeze, but it was intent on the kill. I felt a white pain across my arm and a small trickle of blood bead out of the wound into the ground. I grit my teeth, knowing if I let up my guard it would rip me to pieces but not knowing what else to do. Where were the fucking mercs!?

A scream erupted from the side, and a wide brimmed hat rushed into my vision to the right of my shoulder. The raptor gave a clicking screech and staggered from some attack, and when Emmaline withdrew I saw her sword covered in blood. I couldn't see the abject panic on her face she had, so I assumed her eyes were set like any veteran of combat. I didn't waste the opportunity, withdrawing my staff from its mouth and striking it across the head as hard as I could, the beast now slower from the terrible wound. It swayed as I withdrew my axe, and a whirring cut to the side of its skull sent it to the ground, dead.

We both panted hard, and I looked at Emmaline, who by that time had regained her composure and gave me a look of satisfaction.

"You're fearless..." I marveled, suitably impressed at her quick thinking.

"Like killing orcs back home," She said with a smirk, lying through her teeth I would later find out. She looked back to the dead dinosaur, her expression now hidden again. "What now?"

The others stepped into view, and one glance at them told me they had been too scared or confused to help. The mercs tried to hide their fear with a stone-visage, and they now looked at Emmaline in envy at her apparent bravery.

"We killed one of the pack. Their plan didn't work, so they abandoned this one. But we need to keep moving." I said.

"Witch. She probably summoned the things-" The first conquistador began with an accusatory gaze. Before he even finished the thought, I didn't know whether to laugh at the ridiculous accusation or not, so I settled for punching him. Any one look at me tells you I'm a strong guy, and while I didn't knock him out, he did get some air from the sudden strike. The merc backpedaled unceremoniously and hit a tree, before slumping to the ground.

"Better being a witch than a little bitch," I said to him, and regarded his friend who did not know whether to draw his sword at me or not. "Pick him up, we still need to cover some ground."

Hesitantly, he did so. Callibel and Fletcher strayed away from the two Dre Costans, hovering closer to me and looking at the dead dinosaur like it was a slain demon. I knelt down by its corpse, and decided to make the best of the kill. Three chops, and we had the thing's tail. Dinner for later...

That night, there were three fires. This time we had found a ravine near a waterfall, where the rock wall almost acted as an awning over the group. We figured we could have the luxury of a fire, and to make three just so any watchers figured we were a much larger group that they should probably avoid. The waterfall cascaded not ten paces away, filling the air with a nice spray that reached our sensibilities but not the fires, hidden from the north and east by the stone walls towering above us.

I sat with Emmaline. Earlier it had been from obligation to keep her safe, but now I was honestly wanting to talk. Snakes were scared of her, and she had fought the murk beast and helped kill the raptor. It had only been a few days but I was thoroughly impressed, not to mention she was pretty. I might be a monk, but I had a taken in a good view of her extravagant backside throughout the trek, as much as I tried to push the thought away. I made it a point not to fraternize with customers, or any northerner. They didn't tend to stay long and that was a different world to me. Plus, she was a baroness! I was a blacksmith who moonlights as a guide for hapless travelers.

"You ever had dinosaur tail before?" I asked her, handing her a stick piercing a steaming piece of raptor steak. She took it and looked at it dubiously, before taking her hat off and shaking her long golden locks. It looked like waves of flame in the dancing firelight. She bit into it just as I did, and it felt a bit stringy, but it was juicier than one might expect. She shrugged, and then turned the stick on its side and placed it in her teeth, much like the raptor had earlier in the day. Unstrapping her baldrics and belts, she took her coat off and thrust her chest out as she said "needsh shome shaushe."

"Yeah, that's what IIIIIIIIWwwwwooooouuuhhhh-"

It was probably the dumbest, most ignominious thing I had ever done on one of these treks. When I saw her take her jacket off and reveal just what assets she had, my brain just died and my tongue went limp. I swear, that wasn't normal. But I was not expecting it at ALL, and gods forbid I could have gotten a warning. I saw her eyes look at me, and my eyes went to hers and met the gaze. My face colored and I looked away. If I was alone I would have laughed my ass off at how stupid I was, but I wasn't alone.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. I stood up, guiltily. "That was uncalled for and unneeded. You don't deserve that, especially from some guy you don't know. I'll just take my dumbass and leave..."

I was fully about to walk away.

I laughed around my mouthful of dinosaur as Beren stammered his apologies. I have heard hunters say that no meal tastes better than one you catch yourself, though the filet of dinosaur tail was probably not the most eloquent proof of the argument. For all the travel I had done I remained a city girl, but I wasn’t without my analogues. I touched Beren on the wrist before he could flee.



“We didn’t just meet,” I contradicted him, leaning back against the meager comfort of a log that I had draped my cloak against. Not coincidentally the pose cocked my hips slightly and pressed my chest out the tiniest bit. The effect was to tighten the white cotton of my shirt around my breasts, just enough to allow the slightest blush of the flesh beneath to appear at points of maximum contact. It didn’t appear like a deliberate provocative action, not to an ametuer, but a priest couldn’t have argued that the resulting ‘accidental’ pose wasn’t sensual. Judging by the way Beren’s eyes widened, holy orders were a ways off. I felt a little ashamed of myself, it was like spearing fish in a barrel, but the trek had been filled with terrifying incidents in which I felt like I had clung on by my fingernails. It felt good to practice a skill I was good at.



“You saved me from my kidnappers.” Rather my dupes. “You saved me from the tentacle thing.” Definitely true. “And you saved me from the raptor.” Partially true though admittedly it looked like it was going to go the other way altogether. I had been scared out of my mind when I charged in, but it didn’t look like any of the others were going to do it in time. I took another nibble of dinosaur and chewed contemplatively. I couldn’t imagine ever getting a taste for the stuff, but there was a slight seasoning in the fact that it would have enjoyed eating me more than I was enjoying eating it.



“I’d say that makes us at least social acquaintances,” I teased. Beren was brave and I had to admit wasn’t hard on the eyes. For various reasons my historical type tended to be somewhat less muscular. Afterall, every dock in the world is overrun with muscular men without two coppers to rub together. I didn’t imagine Beren had a great supply of coppers either but he was certainly the best prospect here in the wilderness. Besides, it hadn’t escaped me that the Dre Costan’s might try and bash my skull in while I slept and Beren was my best chance at forestalling that possibility. Not being bludgeoned to death is sexy. I gave a calculated yawn and stretched just slightly, shifting the fabric over my chest.



“Do you think the rest of his pack,” I waved my slice of tail around to emphasize the dinosaur, “is out there looking for us?”



“It is or was a she,” Beren corrected me, “the females are larger and do the hunting, the males tend to be solitary unless they are in rut.” I eyed the meat speculatively.



“I suppose I didn’t have time to look for any identifying equipment,” I admitted.

I smiled, crossing my arms. "If they are looking, they won't attack." I said with confidence. This wasn't my first encounter, and I placed my hand on my cut arm. The bleeding had stopped and Callabel had wrapped some cloth around it. It occurred to me I had never been in a situation that had involved the beasts that hadn't let to a wound of some kind, and that was still counted as lucky. "They don't do well around fire, and they'll smell their own dead."

"Well that's good," She said, knowingly making an understatement. I laughed, glad I hadn't embarrassed myself the way I had feared. Attraction or not, we still had a few days travel left if we were going on the right path. I felt confident we were heading in the correct direction, but I had never been here before. The old tales from Owyn the huntsman were what I was navigating by, and my general knowledge of the direction of the outpost.

I had very good discipline. One of the tenets of my faith was the forging of an impassable will, which the dwarves could appreciate highly. I was just about to summon that, because I figured she would have wanted to change the subject. But she caught my eyes with hers and subtly moved her body in a way I didn't really perceive, but it caught my attention and more. I know what you're thinking, and no, this wasn't my first time dealing with a pretty woman. But I had only been with one, and it had been awhile ago. Other than travelers, you don't see many people in these lands, especially not in the village I lived. It didn't boast even a thousand people, and almost none of them were around my age. I couldn't read her mind or intentions, but I still had an inkling of what she was doing, and I definitely obliged. The impenetrable walls I had been building crumbled biblically, and I let my eyes slid over her hips and chest.

"Social acquaintances... that what they're calling it across the pond?" I joked, though my brevity came out breathlessly. I placed my hands behind back to lean on the ground, letting my corded arms grow pronounced like my chest did, showing definition through my top.

I had been told I was handsome before, but it never really was something that stuck with me. It was like pointing out that a lizard could regrow its tail or that the sun brought heat. The significance didn't really hit me mattered very little to my day to day life, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, I was glad I had it. The lady Emmaline scooted a bit closer to me, letting me get a marvelous view of her chest that did unrelenting things to me, until a glance at the side showed me the mercs had stopped their talk and eyed us.

"So uh," I cleared my throat and gestured to the mercenaries with a small nudge of my head. "Care to tell me about your estates back north? I don't think I've met many noblewomen heading south." I said, taking a deep breath. Gods I was hot and bothered, but I shoved that aside. We couldn't get familiar on the trail. It complicated things and would give credence or at least fervour to whatever the conquistadors would accuse us of. Plus, I thought, once we reached the outpost, the contract was done. I wasn't a one-night-stand kind of guy. She likely had other obligations and people to marry.

After some time talking and some brief flirting, we and the other groups drifted off to sleep.

The next day, we awoke to a light rain that turned into a downpour accompanied by roaring thunder. Luckily for us we had the stone walls above to shield us, but it kept us immobile for a good few hours before the skies cleared and we could start to move again. We went slow going over the slick rocks and the muddied ground until the earth went even again, and we could begin moving at a better pace. The rest of the day was spent marching, and other than a few smiles I shared with Emmaline, we didn't really converse beyond a few words. Luckily we saw no dangerous predators either, though we did bump into a water buffalo and its calf amongst some tall reeds that we gave a wide berth to.

It was mid afternoon when everything changed.

I had taken my axe out, and despite our differences, the conquistadors and I had begun working in unison, hacking through the leaves, ferns, and brush to cut our way through the dense jungle before we suddenly hit nothing but air. I heard one of the Dre Costan's gasp when he stepped forward past the last tree, and I quickly followed and felt my brows raise as I bore witness to a spectacle I had never seen before.

Walls thrice as tall as a man stood like a cliffside before us, bricked from some unknown material, with sinuous patterns carved into it that harmed the retina to follow and made one dizzy in the attempt.The rest of the group followed in our wake as we approached the wall, and a call of "Senor!" to my right drew my attention. Past another vast tree, we saw the opening in the barrier that was even more impressive and yet wholly terrifying.

The gateway was a massive serpent's maw, opened wide enough for an army to march through. Its teeth were the teeth of a rusted portcullis, opened wide for anyone to pass through freely. I saw its eyes twinkle in the bright sunlight, glimmering as if they were made of precious stones. I let out a whistle as the others joined me, and there were gasps all around.

"Esto es lo que hemos buscado para estos meses, Ricardo." One of the mercs said to the other. As the others whispered amongst themselves, I noticed a flak of something along the wall next to the serpent gate. I walked up and brushed it, and my eyes widened as my hands wiped what I had thought was stone off the rich hue of the material the wall was made of. On it were ancient pictograms I couldn't decipher, but once my shock was gone I realized just what I was looking at.

The walls were made of solid gold.

"What is this place?" Callibel asked, poking her head past the great fanged mouth to peer into the settlement. Spires and ziggurats of stone, gold, and brass towered into the sky, and through nature had reconquered much of the inner city, the roads were still well paved and framed by waterways.

"I don't know..." I admitted, perplexed.

"You don't?" Fletcher asked, astounded at how such a place could go under the radar of any local.

"Tzecholitchi" a voice said from behind, and all eyes turned to Emmaline. The mercs looked at her as if they were about to run her through then and there.

"I've heard of that," I said, memories flooding back to me.

"Really? I was just sneezing." Emmaline lied, blowing her nose.

I cursed myself for an idiot for speaking, but something about all that gold was making me feel funny. The fake map I had sold to my Northen friends had purported to show its location. I had found the legend while helping myself to the library of an old duke whose title I had been attempting to scam. Unfortunately the old man's heart had given out during the final stages of negotiations and I had found myself with a dead duke and a very limited window to escape, out the window as it happened, before I was discovered. The only items of value I had been able to steal were a few old books and a diamond necklace. One of the books claimed to be a journal of a long ago expedition that had stumbled across the place. The legend went that the city of Tzecholitchi had once been the seat of a great Empire before civilization came o the Northern Continent. It's black sailed ships had sailed across the world, and even if the tale was to be believed to other worlds, brining back riches and slaves beyond counting. For a thousand years the city had prospered but during that time they neglected their tribute to their Goddess, a strange deity who was half woman and half serpent according to the hasty sketches I had seen. Eventually their empire had collapsed and their slave states rebelled, marching on their former masters and putting all they found to the sword. Beset on all sides and hopeless, the people of the city had cried out to their goddess begging for mercy and aid and casting all the wealth left to them into her temple pit. To show her contempt for their riches, the goddess turned their entire city to gold. It was only when they began to throw themselves into the Temple Pit that the Goddess had finally relented. Jungle had sprung forth across what had once been cultivated land, consuming in an hour what had taken a thousand years to build. The armies had been turned back by the serpents and the fevers that stalked the jungle and the name Tzecholitchi had been all but forgotten.

But not apparently by all. Both of the Dre Costan's knew the name.

"What is this place," the timber merchant asked, his eyes alight with avarice as he ran his hand along the golden wall.

"No where we should be," I muttered uneasily, both Dre Costan's pretended to relax.

"We are just going to stumble onto a city of gold and walk away?" One of them demanded. I had to admit that the feeling of unease in my stomach was the only evidence I had for wanting to flee. The wall alone would pay the Andredan army for a year. The Merchant, Herronhoop or something, pulled a heavy knife from his belt and struck the wall at a glancing angle, attempting to shave off some of the precious metal. There was a dull clang but nothing happened. He frowned and tried again, this time attempting to drive the point into the gleaming wall. It glanced aside without a scratch.

"Maybe if we had some heavier tools," he pondered, glancing back towards those of us with swords. No one volunteered to try it.

"There must be an enchantment," one of the Dre Costan's said. "I bet we can find some gold inside, something small enough to carry away."

"Gold is heavy," Beren pointed out, "do you really want to carry it through the jungle."

"I do if I'm going to be rich when I reach the other side," another of the travelers said. It was nearly nightfall and the sky to the west was low with heavy looking clouds.

"I suppose we can at least shelter for the night," Beren capitulated, though I could tell he was as uneasy as I was, and probably a little less struck with gold lust besides.

I had to be honest, I would have very much loved to go in and explore if I was alone. One of my flaws is an enjoyment of danger, and a curiosity. Deadly circumstances mean little to me and I'm fully willing to leap into it, but I had people I was responsible for and I was raised to do my best to help people. But even with my reservations, it seemed like they were interested in going in too. I wouldn't mind leaving the conquistadors to their fate, but I did take their money and we all needed a place to stay, and so the group inevitably went in.

I walked in first, to make certain there was no danger. I was unsurprised to see there was, in fact, danger.

I stepped closer...and closer... My dark eyes looking left and right and up, and then stepped again.

The portcullis dropped like an anvil, the 'teeth' literal dagger blades that glinted in the sun. I threw my shoulder forward and rolled, stricken with a cold feeling in my chest as I expected to be skewered, but the Evergod was with me. I felt the woosh flying past me, and it stabbed into the ground. Dust flew from when I skidded to a stop and looked back, nearly hitting a small pillar with an oblong shaped handle. I blinked, watching the portcullis raise back up again slowly from some mechanism.

"Uh, no one cross the gateway yet." I deadpanned.

I took a minute to look at the spine of the carving, trying to see the source of the gate's power. I hadn't been privvy to many dwarven engineering projects during my time with them, but I had picked up one or two things. Still, I couldn't find any sort of chain or mechanism, but my brain redirected its thoughts and I turned back to the pillar, which on closer inspection looked like a dias or some sort of control mechanism. I told everyone to back away, and once they did I pulled the oblong handle. It gave easy enough, and then I stepped back to the gate, on the balls of my feet, and then slid my leg under the gateway as I had earlier.

Nothing happened. I breathed a sigh of relief, and the others filtered in with uncertainty. The gate did not act on its own again, and once they were inside the walls, they needed to decide where to go. The conquistadors seemed to eye the ziggurat to the east, but I didn't trust them obviously. Emmaline eyed the surroundings with interest, but didn't speak up. So I suggested we go to the nearest minaret. Once I started moving, the others followed like ripples in a stream. In my experience, as long as people had a direction, they could be led into hell and they would still follow. I hoped I wasn't doing that to them.

There spire was made of tanned stone and brass linings that cascaded upwards into a mosiac of a serpent god's fall from grace, casted exquisitely in the light of the setting sun. Even dwarves would have a hard time making something so well crafted. Even Fletcher stopped and lifted his spectacles to give a 'my lord' in appreciation. I patted his shoulder and gestured for him to continue in under the large, open archway, shielded from the sun.

Inside it was cool, the floors made of smooth stone, though small plants had managed to wring a bit of their slender stalks through. Tables made of some gilded steel had been flipped and chairs scattered, and vines lined up the walls with the energy of a jealous lover. Snaking around the base of the minaret was a long, sinuous stairway that winded up higher and higher until it likely reached the pinnacle. Across the breadth of the room was a small doorway that fed into a hall, darkened by shadow.

"Ok, let's make camp here." I told everyone, and went over to pick up one of the heavy, overturned tables. With a grunt, I lifted the thing off the ground and set it right at the doorway to block the hall, being as careful as I could be. Callibel watched me move it appreciatively, as the table was about twice as heavy as a big man. Once I placed it down, I saw Fletcher and a conquistador rip off vines and place what small bits of kindling they could next to the archway in preparation for another fire.

"I'm going upstairs to check what's up there. Anyone want to come with me?" I asked.

"I'll go," Emmaline volunteered, sauntering over. My heartbeat quickened, and I remember at the time I felt she wanted to check things out as much as I did. Looking back, she probably didn't want to be left alone with the mercs. Either way, it was good she came with me and we started to ascend.

I followed Beren up the winding stair gaining a scholar's appreciation of his backside as I did so. It seemed we climbed for an improbable time, the city growing smaller beneath us than seemed likely from our glimpses of the exterior of the tower. I was just about to suggest we turn back when we abruptly reached the top and entered a large circular room. In the center of it stood a vast brass basin covered in some waxy substance that I presumed to be oil.

"It's like a lighthouse," I surmised as I glanced around and saw that the tower was open on all four sides though protected by the largest sheets of glass I had ever seen. Having worked with a few glaziers in order to pass fake gems, I knew that it would have taken magic to create such large sheets even today.

"Not just a lighthouse," Beren countered, scuffing the dusty floor with his boot to reveal a portion of what looked to be a map. I followed his gesture and saw that it was indeed a map, a huge circular one centered on the basin at the center of the room. I was no cartographer, but was reasonably certain that given the scale of some of the recognizable landmarks, these people had voyaged to lands far beyond any anyone in Andred had ever imagined. I stared in wonder as I realized that there were tiny gem stones set into the floor, marking the position of cities that had existed in eons past. On an instinct I looked up towards the ceiling and found a map there as well. This one was made of black nacreous shell, laid together and polished to a shiny backdrop. Artificial stars of amber and pearl winked down. I picked up a long stick of what might have been ancient bamboo, or perhaps the milk tusk of some enormous beast and reached up to touch one of the stars.

"What are you..." Beren objected but as I touched the star the floor seemed to flow. Suddenly it was a wholly alien map with unknown continents and strange geography. I touched another and the process repeated.

"Some kind of magical map?" Beren asked in stunned amazement.

"I think... I think these are maps of other worlds," I admitted, scarcely believing it. My eyes went back to the basin.

"And if I'm not wrong, this might be meant to signal them." We both stood silent as we contemplated the enormity of what, I freely admit were basically hunches and educated guesswork, but I thought I wasn't far off. Were there remnants of this civilization in the stars? Or trading partners waiting for this fire to be lit? I took an involuntary step towards the basin. Beren hastily blocked my progress.

"Lets not jump to any..." we heard a distant scream. Beren swore and ran to the edge of the tower, looking out. Far below we could see tiny figures moving. Even from this great height it was obvious it was the conquistadors and the other travelers. The armed men were herding the others at sword point.

"Fuck! What the hell are they doing?!" Beren cursed, but I could see from the line of travel they were heading towards a large circular pit ringed by smaller temples. The panorama of the city made me momentarily dizzy even though some portions of it were overgrown with jungle. This place must be huge. I saw towers rising up in the distance, temples that would have shamed Black Cally's palace. Great amphitheaters that sat empty and crumbling.

"They are taking them to the Temple Pit," I told him. I had a queasy feeling I knew why but I didn't volunteer it.

"Let's go!" Beren shouted and he rushed down the stairs, retracing out steps. When we reached the door to the lower chamber we found it was closed. Beren heaved against it but it wouldn't budge. He pounded he door and then pulled out his axe and splintered the timber. Behind it the tables were piled up to block our transit. Beren heaved at the door, but even his mighty strength couldn't shift it.

"Back up," I told him, turning and running up the stairs. He might not have followed me but he did, apparently trusting me further than he should, which is to say trusting me at all.

"What is your plan?" he asked. I picked up the stick and touched one of the stars at random.

"Hold your breath," I told him and then whispered a word. The world exploded into shards. Suddenly I weighed twice as much as I should. My skin tingled and my eyes burned. We stood in a chamber almost identical to the one we had just left, except this one looked out over a city of burnished silver. Strange things I couldn't make out whizzed through the air beyond, perhaps birds, or flying lizards. I lurched into action, all but falling as I dragged Beren down the identical stairs for the second time. We reached the bottom and Gods be praised the door was open. My pulse was pounding in my temples from lack of air, the incredible weight of my body, and the strain of holding the spell. We ran through the door into a room packed with strange artefacts whose purpose I couldn't even begin to fathom. I shove Beren into a space in the room I remembered being empty and with a gasp let go of the spell. I feel the fabric of the universe shove us back into our world with an audible crack of displaced air. We stood beyond the tables in the room we had left the others in. Both of us steamed with a gas that wasn't air and smelled like salt and ammonia. My eyes stung but I blinked them clear.

"What now?" Beren asked, his eyes wide and shocked at what had transpired. I sucked in great lungfuls of air, trying to get the vision of silvery birds of living metal out of my mind.

"How...about... you take over the planning for a bit," I gasped.

And she could do magic too!?

"I tend to improvise, but I'll try to match that." I said. I saw Emmaline was out of breath, and I opened my hands and gestured. "May I?"

She nodded with a grin, despite her weariness. I picked her up and laid her over my shoulder, and then started to run. I couldn't match a raptor, but I made good time across the open ground. My feet clapped on the flagstones as we passed by canals and darkwood trees and pillars framing some cosmic city-way. The sun was still in the sky, but I knew it would set within the hour. Even if we made it in time to...whatever was happening, we couldn't leave the city tonight other than by some eldritch means.

The opening in the ziggurat was an intricate knot of all right angles and geometric shapes I couldn't begin to comprehend, and once inside we could either go left or right. I went left on a whim and entered a small hallway that seemed triangular in shape, confining to my sensibilities but somehow we fit. Light filtered in from small holes above, but I couldn't see their origin. It was likely some sort of light bounced off mirrors that helped illuminate the enclosed halls. Or perhaps it was simply magic.

Either way, we passed through one corridor into the next, before I ran across a walkway of stone above a streaming torrent of water that rushed beneath us. Emmaline later told me she saw some vast, serpent-like shape of darkness just under the moving man-made river, but I hadn't bothered to look down too closely. My eyes were too focused on a man-serpent who stood at the doorway that blocked our path. It's look made my skin crawl, and I shuddered as I barreled towards it. It's body was a well proportioned man decked in a skirt of cloth like the ancient Xerubians, but its neck swelled into the shape of a viperish cobra, widening behind its head. It hissed at us and dropped the ornage halberd it carried, instead reaching behind a cleft in the wall and pulling something I couldn't see.

"Beren, run!" Emmaline cried, and I glanced behind us to see the segments at the back of the walkway crumbling into the river, its foundations breaking from weights beneath us.

"Oh fuck! Fuck!" I breathed, heart pumping. I held onto Emmaline tighter, my corded muscles pressing into her soft flesh as my entire body went taut from summoning the last reserves of my strength. I saw the serpent man reach for its halberd again and level it to skewer us, hissing in delight at our predicament. Every footfall I expected to feel nothing but air, and as I heard the last 'pop' of the segment just behind me falling, I sprang like the raptor had the other day. Emmaline screamed, but instead of launching myself at the doorway, I aimed to the left. I knew I wouldn't have made it, and so I leaped to one of the alcoves in the stone beneath it, a few paces above the rushing waves. I fancied I could see a confused look on the serpent man, but of course one couldn't really tell.

I grabbed onto the rounded frames like an ape, thinking on what to do next. But I heard murmuring behind my head, and a zap! Ozone filled the air, my eyes catching the serpent man, still crackling with electricity, falling into the rushing waters below, dead before it sank beneath the river. We both caught our breath for a second, panting as I looked at the walls and found what imperfections I needed to grab to pull us up to the door.

"Hey Emmaline?" I said as I started to climb. She clung to to me.

"Yes?"

"That was the sexiest thing you could have done. We'll talk about it later though." I told her as we ascended slowly, and the next minute I pulled us both up onto the next corridor, collapsing from the weight of both of us tumbling in. We were almost there.

I clapped Beren on the butt as he ran giddy with whatever I had inhaled and was happy to be alive.

“Let’s do that,” I agreed, sliding off his back and getting my feet back under me. I still didn’t feel great but the odds were high that Beren was going to need to fight shortly and would do better unencumbered. Now that I had time to think about it I could admit we had been insanely lucky. My little stunt might as easily have transported us to someplace under water, or where the air was filled with cyanide. It doesn't take much imagination to come up with horrible scenarios, but fortunately it had taken more time than we had to spare.

Beren led the way through another corridor and ahead we heard the sound of soft, rhythmic, murmerings. I felt fear coil up inside of me as I trailed along behind Beren. I had drawn my own sword as a show of good faith as much as anything, and I trailed my hand along the strange material of the wall to anchor myself and stop from flying apart in panic.

“I’m not sure we should be running towards the eerie chanting,” I admitted but even as I spoke the words we stepped out into a large open space. It was a strangely inverted and flattened version of the the exterior, descending on four sides in smooth planes to a central pit. It wasn’t too steep to navigate but it wasn’t somewhere I necessarily wanted to be running. The pit itself was circular and fringed with gold and what might have been polished jade. The edging spiraled out and up the pyramidal declivity in oddly circular ways, as though a circle was somehow at war with a square. The old foe. A shaft of light descended into the pit from high above. The very point of the pyramid must actually have a hole in it, because although I called it light, I could see rain drops from the storm that had been gathering falling in the murky light.

The Dre Costan’s were ahead of us, forcing the travelers toward the pit. It looked like Herronhob had taken a nasty blow to the jaw and his face was purple and swollen. Serpent men stood around the fringes hissing and chanting with red tongues darting back and forth. All held weapons but seemed to be held back by something. One of the Dre Costans was holding a symbol aloft that seemed to compel them to wait. Personally I’d have been down for making a run for it and to hell with the others but there was no way we were getting out of this city without the symbol.

“We have to save them,” I whispered earnestly.

I nodded with camraderie, not comprehending she was looking for a way out for herself.

Somehow the Dre Costans had an idea of what was going on here. I vaguely wondered how they would have gotten here if the raft had not been destroyed, and it occured to me that if they were so far in such ruinous lore in this gods-forbidden city that they likely weren't above summoning or somehow causing the murk-beast to wade so far up river to attack us. The fact that it had devoured one of their comrades was just another eerie realization that they would kill anyone that got in their way, like what we saw before us. Of course this was all speculation, but it drove a hot fury within me regardless.

"I know you were wanting me to have a plan, but I don't see much of a way to disrupt whatever's going on than a rush." I admitted with trepidation. Attacking the ferocious serpent-men would likely do nothing but break whatever ward kept them back, and doing nothing would result in those bastards getting what they were aiming for, which was something he couldn't guess. Plus if they were to drop something heavy on the location of the mercenaries, it would kill Fletcher and Callibel.

My eyes darted across the vast chamber, hoping an idea would pop up. I was usually a quick thinker, but this seemed so simple it was unfortunately something we couldn't destroy through cleverness. That is, until I noticed the symbol the mercenary held aloft. It looked much like the symbols scrawled across the walls, just above the waiting legions of the serpent men. An idea popped in my head, and I pointed at one of the wards, leaning down to whisper in Emmaline's ear.

"Can you fire another bolt of lightning?" I asked.

"Maybe... why?"

"Hit one of the symbols on the lined along the wall, where the brass meets the stone. Trust me."

"You're one of the most trustworthy people I know," She said, and though it sounded sardonic it brought a smile to my face. She uttered a word of power and wiggled her fingers as if she was a seamstress, and sparks filled the air moments before a bolt of lightning materialized from her hands. It didn't zip through the air like one would suspect. It popped up like true lightning, both where Emmaline was an at the spot she aimed at simultaneously. There was a crack as stone sundered, sending a broken seam slicing up the wall to bisect the ward.

The mercenaries stopped, stunned as they turned to see one of the dozens of symbols on the wall destroyed. To their horror, four serpent men took up moon-bladed swords and heavy scimitars and stepped languidly through the two pillars that framed where they stood. I smiled as I saw my plan had worked. The army couldn't pour through, but there was a handful of the beasts that could defend what they considered their religious sanctuary.

"What now?" Emmaline began to ask, but I interrupted it and let out a battle cry with my axe held aloft, and I charged forward as the two mercenaries shoved their bound hostages aside and looked to defend themselves from the serpent-men that advanced on their position. One of them lowered his arquebas and fired, killing one of the guardians outright, but he immediately had to drop his weapon and draw his sidesword as they furiously began to defend themselves. Emmaline following me, we waded into the melee that would decide our fate.

Believe me, the last thing I wanted to do was charge into a melee between some psychotic Dre Costan’s and a bunch of pissed off pythons with delusions of grandeur. Unfortunately, it was a fact that without Beren I had no chance of getting out of the city, much less of making it back to civilization with my all important hide intact. Hoping for the best, I rushed down the slope in Beren’s wake brandishing my sword, praying silently to the God of Thieves and Liars that I wouldn’t fall and that the lizards didn’t have any missile weapons. Predictably my patron obliged. Equally predictably the response was perverse. Although the lizards seemed content with spears, one of the Dre Costan’s spun and aimed his arquebus at us, its barrel a yawning black hole that looked like it was pointed directly at my head. Already committed to a headlong rush, I whipped up my sword, the only item I had to hide behind. There was a wang of metal on metal and the sword blade bucked in my hands, striking me in the face with the flat as something hot whipped past my right side. The disorienting blow stole my rhythm and suddenly I was half tumbling forward, like a child who runs down a hill only to realize they are moving faster than they can control. I flew past Beren, the furious windmilling of my feet all that was keeping me from a headlong tumble. The Dre Costan’s eyes widened and he dropped his arquebus, a mistake as he could have easily stove my skull in with it, and grabbed for his sword. Yelling a vicious oath I tucked my head down and lead with my shoulder. There was a crash as I impacted him, transferring my out of control momentum to him with an agonizing blow to my shoulder. The mercenary flew off his feet, screaming as he hit the stone floor and skidded towards the hole. He made a desperate grab for the lip and then vanished into the pit, his scream attenuated over impossibly long seconds before being lost in the clangor of battle.



“Run!” I yelled at the milling travelers, making a general gesture back the way I had come with the sword that, amazingly, was still in my hand.



“Shizen!” I exclaimed, dodging back out of the arc of an ornate halberd that would have taken my head off if I’d delayed another moment. I struck out with my sword, but the serpent man deflected the clumsy thrust with the wooden haft of his weapon. It drew back to finish me off but before it could scythe me down Beren’s axe came down in an overhead chop that took its arm off at the shoulder in a spray of dark brackish blood. All was chaos. Men screamed, lizards hissed and weapons flashed. The whole place had an awful smell that combined blood, mould and something dry and spicy that might have been from the lizards or might have emanate from the pit. Herringbone had a curved lizard sword and was all but swatting the other travelers up towards the portal by which we had entered. The Dre Costan with the symbol was waving it like a flaming brand. The serpent men recoiled from it each time before rallying and trying to press close.



“Beren get the symbol!” I shouted and then screamed as a serpent man shoved me aside with a scaly hand. I stumbled down towards the pit. In a moment of sickening clarity, I realized I was going to fall in. Unable to arrest my descent I took a great stride, planted my foot on the edge and leaped. I flew out over the stygian darkness, momentarily light headed from the spicy cinnamon like scent and then hit the other side. I nearly made it, the instep of my foot catching the far side with my body still at an angle. I began to tumble backwards to my doom when a serpent man spear point appeared in what would have been a perfect strike had I made the jump but was now six inches short of the mark. I grabbed it behind the point with the desperation of a cornered animal, thrust my ass out, flexed my knees and yanked for my very soul. The serpent man made a surprised hiss as he was yanked into the pit, the momentum enough to send me staggering up onto the otherside. Incredibly I still had my sword in my hand, although if Beren didn’t get the symbol in the next few seconds that wasn’t going to matter.