CHAPTER 1

BENVENUTI A LESCALIA






“Diciottesima campana!”

The forceful shout carried across the harbor for all to hear followed by eighteen drawn out bell clangs, it was the call for the eighteenth bell of the day. The sun had disappeared over the western horizon and the darkness of night had enveloped Lescalia. Ships lined the piers, safely anchored and moored for the night and the telltale lantern lights of the harbor watch flickered along the docks and in between the rows of warehouses and offices. The harbor would be closed soon, on the next bell in fact, and the watch were rounding up any lingering citizens they crossed in there rounds - giving terse commands to loitering sailors and kicking drunkards and beggars from their nooks. After the nineteenth bell the gates to the harbor would close and anyone found wandering or standing about in the area would be questioned and most likely detained.

A single watchman rounded a corner, stopping to stand up a knocked over barrel with one hand before continuing on his way down the dock, boots clomping against the dock planks and his mail jingling with his every step. As he walked he eyed the many sea vessels that were crammed into the docks, everything from rowboats to fishing cutters to hulking trade ships could be seen in the port tonight. Most all of the ships were lifeless, save for the stray lantern light or shape of a restless crewman shuffling about on the deck. When ships came in late the crew would often just spend the night aboard their vessel, particularly if the ship was loaded down with valuable goods and wares that the captain wanted loaded into a warehouse before the crew disembarked for shore. So long as no one came ambling off the ship down into the harbor before it reopened the next day there was no problem. And captains never wanted to start their morn paying a fine or spotting a body.

A cool sea breeze was in the air, the watchman smiling as he continued his patrol. The night was pleasantly cool, his rounds were nearly over, and there was a soft bed and plenty of beer waiting for him by the end of the next bell. He stepped out into a loading area and suddenly hearing a sharp voice off to his right his smile faltered and he turned his head, impulsively tightening his grip around the shaft of the halberd over his shoulder.

Four people were gathered near a moored ship, a trading holk by the look of it with the boarding ramp down. The watchman looked up at the flag that flapped halfheartedly in the night wind, recognizing the blue banner and golden lion head of Aleis. Beneath it was a smaller, red flag marked with varied gold patterns - most likely a guild flag. The watchmen took a closer look at the four people near the loading ramp, two men, a woman, and a Gnome from the look of it. One of the men was dressed quite colorfully with a wide brimmed hat baring a mass of blue feathers and the woman was fully adorned in a suit of armor with a long sword and shield at her back. Perhaps a hired guard. The watchman shrugged to himself and then called out, ”Scendete dal molo prima della prossima campana!”

By the time the four’s heads had turned in his direction the watchman was already continued on his way. He had forewarned the Aleisians, if they understood him or not was on them.



“Listen to me,” Captain Rhenish said in frustration, “we have arrived in Lescalia as planned. You have been this long at sea, surely you can spare a few more bells. This city is dangerous at night.”

”He oído que es peligroso durante el día.”

Captain Rhenish shot a sharp glare at one of the three passengers who had spoken, grumbled at him rather - the Nijaran paladin woman in the suit of armor. He did not speak Nijaran but imagined she said something asinine.

“I am trying to keep you three boulder heads alive. I know you are not sailors but surely Ustora’s sheets are not so bad as to make you wander out into this city in total darkness rather than stay for one more night aboard my vessel.”

Captain Rhenish turned to look at the other two passengers, a mysterious hooded Urdan man and a chipper small-sized Elf that had also bought passage aboard his ship. They along with the Nijaran woman had all sought delivery to Lescalia back in Aleis, and were apparently dangerously desperate to enter the heart of the city - foolishly desperate.

Kasim discreetly lowered his head, leveraging the shadow of his hood to conceal a soured look from the other three. They'd had a two day head start across the Medio Sea. Managing to catch one of the last direct ships out of the Al Miha's port to the city, Amina, the nobles daughter, and her mystery man had fled via a direct route. Kasim, on the other hand, had been forced to catch a boat to the south coast of Aleis, barely securing passage on board Captain Rhenish's ship as it made one final stop before landing in Lescalia. No, he couldn't afford for their trail to grow cold.

"Your thoughtful opinion is appreciated, Captain," composed was the man's voice, masking the concern etched on his brow. Each syllable carried the richness of his accent, a comfort to those attuned to it. "But I must refuse. Time is not on my side and besides, some of my best work is done at night."

Lifting his head slightly, the man flashed a wolfish grin, his teeth gleaming in what little light remained.

Noémi took a deep breath, readily accepting the subtle urban smells of smoke and perishables mixed with the cool, briny sea winds. A man had called out to them in the nation's language and she twisted her hips to look back and offer an acknowledging wave. "Merci!” unsure if he heard her as he continued his patrol.

Flicker makes no attempt to mask herself like the hooded man and keeps her arms crossed in apparent confidence. The scarlet robes that adorns her service a lot of functions, but subtlety is not often one. She speaks with energy and a sort of academic authority, especially that their presence has already been observed by the dock guard. "Fear of the darkness is simply what the fragile mind believes hides within, but that is where mysteries await for proper investigation!"

"I have experiments to conduct and every moment I spend upon that boat is another moment the unreproducible conditions of the past slips away from me." The conditions she refers to, of course, are marginal at best. Truth is, she was seasick most of the trip and was the first pair of boots to hit the docks when the ramp was drawn.

“Capitán,” Beatriz, the armored Nijaran woman, spoke sincerely, “it has been a long, tiring journey and… it seems we each have affairs of our own to attend. I know of course that this one does, far be it of course that I speak for another.”

Captain Rhenish cocked his head, upper lip curling in slight.

“Perhaps,” Beatriz continued, slowly looking around at the Urdan man and then the Elf girl, “we three travel to the same inn. I doubt that a cutpurse or an alley thug would try and accost three together. Particularly when two are at first look well-armed.” Though Beatriz was speaking in regards to what Captain Rhenish was saying she was also informally asking of her two “companions”.

Beatriz had been traveling with the Urdan and the Elf for two weeks now. While she did not know them well, or even really at all, she had no ill feelings or worried thoughts about them. The Aleisian Elf even as flighty as she seemed was a wizard from what Beatriz could see, and even a flighty wizard was still a wizard - a dangerous thing. The Urdan man was shifty and sly but he had tried nothing on their journey and he seemed more interested in going his own way without haste rather than slipping a blade between the captain or Beatrizes’ ribs just because. And in truth Beatriz had no doubt that Lescalia was a minacious city by night - it was after called the Fickle Port. But she nor her two fellow travelers had any desire to remain aboard that cursed, tossing ship. Better they go to an inn just a short walk together from the harbor and part company there.

Captain Rhenish sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, “The closest inn is La Perla Lucida, the Polished Pearl. It is a bit gouging with their price but the beds are soft, the food good, and the clientele are kept in line and well behaved. You could do worse.”

Clasping his hands together, Kasim nodded in agreement. Not only did the Nijaran's logic track, it provided the trio a quick way out of this conversation.

"Excellent, a wonderful plan. Shall we?" Gesturing in the same direction the Captain had, the Urdan bowed slightly, leaving a gap for the women to start forward.

Although the man doubted they would be attacked, he did find the thought oddly pleasing. Like an itch on the verge of being scratched, Kasim had been curious about others on the boat. Tall and yet incredibly thin, the Nijaran woman was decked out in plated armor, with a shield to boot. The strength she would need to possess to utilize such a getup effectively would be immense, almost other worldly.

The Elf, on the other hand, had to be a mix. Were it possible, he would've assumed a Gnome or Dwarf but either way, it was very obvious she was a wizard. From the robes to her tome, Kasim wondered how much punch the firecracker possessed. Time may tell, I suppose.

With a curtsy to Captain Rhenish, Flicker begins her walk by passing Kasim and offering him an acknowledging nod. She's a foreigner in this city, completely unfamiliar with the structural layout and passable knowledge in the native language found on various signage. Not that she's going to lead them very far, but she is ready to escape the docks.

After about twenty feet of distance, she would twirl on her heel and wave behind her. "Merci pour tout, Capitaine! Stay safe!"

She offers a hand to no one in particular and with a forceful reverb, she exclaims, "Lux!" A spark of life ignites in her open hand, a floating sphere of contained fire offering the same warmth and light as a lantern would. She smiles as her shadow dances among the nearby barrels, fluttering like a lively sprite.





Beatriz, Flicker, and Kasim made their way out of the port with ease, following the directive signs placed around until they were soon passed through the towering gateway and out into the street. Two guards were stationed at the port entrance, one on either side of the gate - one telling the three to hurry along in a somewhat sour tone which made his comrade snort beneath his visor. Ignoring the derision from the guardsman Beatriz asked which way to the Polished Pearl to which the second guard pointed down the street his right. “This way and the first left, then keep your eyes left,” he said in Lasorian, “a white building with three floors and hung with lanterns. Listen for the music.”
The three thanked the guard to which he did not respond, merely staring as they strode briskly away.

Beatriz walked between the smallish Elf and the Urdan, suddenly feeling quite self-conscious about the latter. After all, the Men of Urdya had for the past thirty or so years been in various wars with Nijara ever since the burning of their prophetess Aifa in Nijara and the departure of her divine father Etham from the world. Beatriz’s sly remark in Nijaran to the captain had surely given her upbringing away to which she cursed herself instantly. Her saucy mouth, as her papa had always called it, managed to get her in trouble aplenty. As the three walked Beatriz tried not to be overly obvious with her side glances, then again if the man wanted to attack or outright kill her, well, he could try it right now. Or maybe not what with guards being so close? As the first left came closer up ahead, marked by a humble street sign and an accompanying lantern post, Beatriz decided to push the worries from her mind. This man was nothing for her to fear and soon enough she would be in her own company in a nice establishment. She had made it to Lescalia, and after so harsh a voyage at sea that was something to drink to tonight - and to drink heavily she planned.

Not much chatter came from the trio as they walked down the alley, having very little they wanted to share about themselves so late at night. Save for the jostling of the paladin's equipment and Flicker’s disregard for stepping into puddles or kicking small rocks, they are quiet. Especially Kasim; That is like a phantom. Flicker thought. At some point, Flicker attempts to whistle, though she had never practiced before so all Kasim and Beatriz can really hear is forced breathing, a single smack of her lips as she whet them, and trying again.



As the three reached the first left as indicated and made the turn down the street something felt off to Beatriz. At first she thought she was just being overly nervous again but then realized that was not the case. The street that lay before them was not particularly notable, in fact it was quite low-end. A handful of grimy houses sat on either side of a cobblestone road, dim lighting could be seen peeking under doorways and around ragged curtains hung in the windows. The odd discarded crate and shattered bottle littered the narrow breezeways between the homes and there was no one to be seen as Beatriz and her two “companions” traipsed along.

Suddenly feeling quite vulnerable and anxious to be off the street, Beatriz kept her eyes straight ahead for the white building that was to be the Polished Pearl and it quickly dawned on her. The Polished Pearl was allegedly a more higher class and proper establishment. Places like that emanated life around them and were typically not on dirty, ill-kept side streets like this one. There was no carrying sound of music to be heard, no brilliant lighting in the distance that one would expect from a building hung with lanterns, and no guardsmen or wandering patrons to be seen. There was only the chilling darkness of night that seemed to enclose around the three as they walked on. Had they misunderstood the man back at the harbor entrance? Or had they been deliberately sent astray in a moment of spite?

Before Beatriz could think further she heard a thud off to her left and impulsively reached for her sword. Unfortunately, the young paladin did not get the chance to unsheathe her blade and defend herself as following a low “whoosh” in the air Beatrizes’ head suddenly and violently snapped hard to one side - a loud crack of bone to be hard. All that came from her mouth was a wheezing half-cry as the armored woman crashed down hard onto the cobblestone. Blood instantly began to pour down seeping into the Nijarans’ ebony hair and dribbling onto the gray stone where she now lay twitching slightly. Near her fallen form was a rounded object, splattered in red that was unmistakably Beatrizes’ freshly drawn blood. A perfectly rounded metal ball the size of a large rock that could fit into the palm of one’s hand. Or a sling.

Flicker’s ears perk as she hears a dull thud somewhere to her left. Just as she turns to glance curiously, a blur of some flying object hit Beatriz directly in the head with the abrupt sound of a sickening break. Flicker’s gait slows to a stop, processing her environment slowly. The muggers, or whatever they are, wear is silent, no metal crinkling of chainmail. Surrounding, hostile. Not much time to act, if any.

A second heavy thudding off to the opposite side, followed by a third and then a fourth. Seeping out from the shadows themselves it seemed came four towering figures, draped in crude black cloaks with heavy hoods cowling their visages. The four had the fallen Beatriz and the still standing Kasim and Flicker encircled, unspeaking and not moving any closer.

"Bad decision to mess with a wizard!" Flicker snaps without thinking, pressing her index finger to her thumb like a viewing glass. What she had hoped would happen is they would pause, hesitate, back off. The spellcaster didn't intend on casting anything offensive, just make it seem like she was about to cause some massive blast.

Kasim cursed. He'd been drowning in the deepness of his thoughts when they attacked. Absentmindedly he'd been following behind the Nijaran as she navigated through both conversation and the streets. He'd barely considered either of his companions when before he knew it, the warrior crumpled in front of him. Pirouetting on his heels, the man drew his dagger as he felt the wind of something heavy whip past him.

Fool! Your obsession with the job will be the death of you. Honed, his reflexes reacted on an instinctual level, ducking and weaving past two more shots. We can't keep this up, our luck will run out in the next few seconds! Take it in, what is around you?

Breathing in, the smell of metal filled swamped the air. Blood, a thick stream of it. The Nijaran is severely injured. Darkness enveloped the group; a moonless night coupled with a town that feared the absense of the sun meant their enemies were nothing but shadowy figures. No glistens or glints of metal. No twangs of string or thrums of swords being pulled from scabbards. The speed and force of these projectiles, it has to be slings.

Footsteps began to patter forth, too many for Kasim to properly count. Sparing a moment, the man looked down at the woman on the ground. We are outnumbered and in the midst of what appears to be a coordinated ambush! Only two choices exist. Save her or analyze the attackers. Another rock whizzed by as the Urdan ducked straight into the path of another. Winging him in the shoulder, he felt it dislocate from the socket causing his dagger to clatter onto the ground. Grunting in pain, Kasim made his choice, kneeling beside the Nijaran. Bundling the loose bits of his tunic, he applied pressure to the woman's wounds as best he could. The faint steps of their attackers began to grow heavy, quickening in pace as they ran towards him.

Information is vital, and with her True Sight Flicker can glimpse some key information. Before her hand even makes it before her face, lips parted just enough to begin chanting, one of the metal balls launched from the shadows and jerked that hand and arm away from her, a sharp pain from the breaking of some bones in her hand. She cries out, surprised, frightened. Flicker swaddles her busted hand just before another direct hit from in front of her has enough force to send her airborne and back a few feet. Dead center of her chest, the fleeting thoughts of how she couldn't feel her heart beat, of how her sternum may have exploded. She lies there, coughing weakly, consciousness fading fast.

Hunched over his new companion, the last thing Kasim felt was the cold hard strike of wood to his head. Flicker hears the muffled sounds of her remaining ally falling after her before it all goes dark.

Beatriz’s skull banged like a drum, throbs of pain coursing through her skull as she felt the heat of oozing blood race across her scalp and down the side of her face. Beatriz tried to lift her head but could not, her whole body save for her aching head felt numb. Her vision was blurred, moving her eyes hurt and Beatriz felt a heaving in her gut and throat.

So this was how it was to end; the fallen paladin of Etham to bleed out or choke to death on her own vomit on a cold, dirty spread of chipped cobblestone as a band of alley vultures stripped her body of all it’s valuables and did gods knew what with her carcass. That is if her throat was not promptly slit or her side split open like a burlap sack. And her company in death? A tight-lipped Urdan knife-hand and an undersized Elf-blood whose names’ she had to think to recall. Still, it was better than to die alone.

As her vision grew cloudier Beatriz heard a ringing that seemed to grow louder. Unsure if it was a trick of her sapped mind or if it was the distant chimes and bells of Seroth beckoning her soul from the husk of her fleshly body. Beatriz felt cold and as her heart fluttered and the ringing grew louder she heard a single word, a name rather, break through the tolling of Orphasia.

“Onzo”.



ETHAMIA 11th,

THE NEXT DAY…



“There now, Mister Barrie, all the better.”

“Thank ye, Miss Dina. The pain is gone.”

The Brevon sailor stood up from his cot, squeezing at his wrist with a look of admiring relief on his hardened face.

“Of course,” said Dina, the gray-haired priestess stepping aside for her patient, “it was nothing so grand that my healing could not mend you. Be sure to mind the swelling, give half a day or more for that to be gone.”

Barrie nodded in understanding, “What do I owe ye?” asked the sailor, twisting at his ratty brown beard.

“Nothing for so small a service,” Dina shook her head, “just promise this humble servant that you will mind yourself from now on, yes?”

Barrie nodded again more sheepishly this time and started towards the door, offering a friendly wave over his shoulder as he pushed open the hospice door which Dina returned as she straightened up the cot the man had lain on. It had been a long last night and morning and Dina was already feeling rather worn. But her role demanded forbearance and she had much. Dina remade the cot and then took a moment to adjust her wrinkled white robes and hood when she heard a groan from the far side of the hospice, behind the long white curtain that reached the length of the room. Not just one groan actually, but several. The corners of Dina’s mouth wrinkled and despite herself the priestess briskly crossed the room, shouting over her shoulder in Aleisian as she went, ”Jasper, entre ici, apporte les cataplasmes et l'eau !”

It seemed the new patients that had arrived last night were awakening. A man, a woman, and a Gnome - all victims of a brutal robbery. The three were terribly bludgeoned on their delivery to the hospice and had many broken bones, Dina in fact had spent most of last night mending the cracked skulls, shattered ribs, and mangled arms of the three. The worst of their ailments had been mended but there was still much swelling around where the wounds had been which was what the poultices were for.

“Jasper!” Dina shouted again, this time a return shout came.

Dina reached out and pulled open the billowy curtain, stepping through to the opposite side where three cots had been set side by side against the wall - the patients, awake and moaning, struggled to sit up on them.

”Non caricatevi così di voi stessi.” Dina said sharply to them, repeating herself then in Brevon. “Please, rest. You were all three nearly killed last night.”

The patients wore white gowns that covered their figures, their clothing and other belongings separated and stacked neatly near their bedsides.

Thrashing around, Kasim woke, violently. The trauma of last night had triggered something deep within the man with him knocking a bedside table over and the contents of a glass on top spilling across the floor. Panting and wide eyed, he looked around the room, his head frantically jerking from point to point.

"Where am I?"

The question would be answered by himself as moments passed and his dream fog quickly dissipated. Seeing his travel companions laid up around him, alongside an Ethamite Priest, he quickly surmised they had been saved. "I… er… I'm sorry." Kasim looked down at the table on the floor. Moving to stand, the man winced in pain.

Slowly, Kasim swung his legs over the side of the bed, painfully hopping off and bending down to gather his things. Much was missing, though the group had overlooked the most vital items. Sheathing both his dagger and notepad, he addressed the Priest. "No, no more rest. I will be fine. I presume this is all you found alongside me?"

Dina released a breath she had been tightly holding in her chest. This was far from the first time a patient went into a fit on first awakening, but it never did get any easier to face.

“I…” Dina paused for a moment and took in another breath, “placed near you all that was on each of you when the guard brought you in.”

”Ay, dioses...”

Dina turned to look over at Beatriz who was fully sitting up and rubbing at her head with both hands. “Do not rub so,” Dina sharply instructed the dark-haired woman, “the swelling has not subsided.”

Dina shouted yet again for the poultices making Beatriz cover her ears abruptly to block out the piercing shout. Rapid footsteps could be heard coming from far across the building.

“What… happened?” Beatriz asked weakly, carefully removing her hands from the sides of her head.

“You were attacked,” Dina said, “the guards brought you in late last night - broken and bloodied all of you, nearly dead - and said you had been assailed by robbers. I do not mind saying I spent most of the night tending to you to keep you alive.”

“Robbers…” Beatriz repeated weakly, then instinctively reaching for her neck. On feeling that her amulet was gone Beatriz felt a flash of dread streak through her and began looking around wildly before spotting her things piled near her bed. Despite immediate insistence from Dina to lay back Beatriz ignored the priestess and wildly snatched through her effects and on seeing that her sword, shield, and money were missing along with her amulet the paladin flew into an instance fit of profane spewing and slamming her fist onto the bedside making Dina wince and clasp her hands together at the vile outburst.

Robbers? Could it really be that simple? Kasim thought back, straining his brain to remember any detail. If he was being honest with himself, the whole event did feel a bit too co-ordinated but then again, he had been prone to illusions of grandeur. Follow the evidence. he reminded himself, grabbing his notepad.

A pitiful report if there ever was one. So many holes that could've been filled had he spent a moment paying attention. With a heavy sigh, Kasim popped off the bed and stood, wobbling on the balls of his feet. "Tell me, priest, where exactly were we found? And was there any who saw anything of note?" Pausing for a moment, the man spotted step one of his notes, mentally kicking himself. "And please, everybody, your names?"

”Maldición! Hijos de putas!” Beatriz slammed her fists together, the Nijaran’s face nearly the color of a beet, her brow furrowed down dangerously over her dark eyes.

“I… am Dina,” the priestess said, trying to block out Beatriz’s tirade, “the guards who brought you in said they found you on a small side street just around from the harbor. Well, by ‘found’ they mean the three of them particularly heard a commotion, went to investigate, and scared off four armed hoodlums before they could kill you after they stole from you.”

“The guardsmen brought you in,” Dina continued, “left straight away without leaving their names, and I and my novice spent the night tending to the three of you. As for anything in particular… well… nothing. They seemed to be in a hurry to get back to their patrol.”

Kasim scribbled more notes, grimacing at the page with thought. "These guards you mentioned," tapping his pencil on the page, the man raised his head to look the woman in the eye, "did they appear as any ordinary guard? Did they say or do anything you'd find unusual?"

Dina cupped her chin in her right palm, fingers reaching for the corners of her mouth as she considered. “Not… that I recall. As I said, they seemed in a bustle to return to their patrol which I most assuredly understand in this city.”

“Onzo.”

“What was that?” Dina said suddenly, turning to look at Beatriz who had for the most part calmed herself. Or at least ceased with the profane ranting.

“Onzo.” Beatriz said again, looking from Dina to Kasim and then back to Dina,”Before my eyes went dark I heard the attackers mumbling around us. One of them said a name; Onzo.”

“Onzo,” Dina’s brow raised slightly, “I know of him. He is a rather seasoned man of the guard. His sister has been coming to me some time for treatment. I have never actually met Onzo but his sister talks of him when she comes to hospice.”

With a raised eyebrow, Kasim noted the name in big letters, eying off with the Paladin for a moment before turning his attention back to the priest. "Dina, can you tell me where either of them live? Perhaps Onzo was the one to chase off the hoodlums. He might be the best guard to make a report to and his sister might be the best way of contacting him."

Lies dripped from his mouth as the man flashed a smile towards the Paladin only she could see. Threats and forced coercion weren't a smart tactic, especially in a foreign land. Allegiances could fall anywhere. "And please tell me, sister, what kind of man is Onzo?"

“I-… I am sorry but… who are you, Urdan?” A defiance flared crossed Dina’s face. Not a picture of loathing or spite but of stubborn evasiveness and suspicion.

“I have performed my honored task as an Ethamite healer to mend your bodies, but I also honor the privacy of those who come to me - patient or not. I have already spoken too much as it is.” A worried look creased the priestesses brow as she cast a look at the floor before returning her eyes to Kasim.
Beatriz glared slightly at Dina, her face then becoming worried. Beatriz resisted the urge to return a look at Kasim not wanting to unsettle the aged healer before them any more than she was now.

Shouldn't have pushed for the location of the sister. Kasim thought, side-eyeing the reaction of the priest from under the safety of his cowl.

"And a fine job you have done, Dina," replied the man, removing his hood to reveal his curled lips, charmingly smiling the woman's way. "But we are not trying to invade the privacy of your patients."

Softening his stance, Kasim approached the priest. "I must say, your dedication to protecting those in need is truly admirable. It's not often one encounters such genuine compassion. I see why so many find solace under your guidance."

Flipping back pages in his notebook, Kasim held out a sketch of a woman, turning it to present it to Dina. "I have travelled very far in search of this woman. Her name is Amina, and she has been kidnapped, held against her will. I have been tasked with finding her and returning her to her home safely."

Kasim's voice grew earnest, his eyes locking onto the priest's with a sincere intensity. "The items that were stolen from me are needed to help me find her. Hence, I wish to report this to the guard, resolve this matter, and get this poor girl home. Surely you can understand, right, sister?" Half truths and truths of technicality were surely better than outright lies, right?

“Spare me your adulation.” Dina smirked and shook her head. Even as she said this Dina looked at the drawing of the woman. It was quite well done, the Urdan before her had a pension for drawing it seemed. “Amina”, he had said. Dina had not heard of any Amina, of course that meant naught. Lescalia is a grandiose city with a vast and colored populace. This Amina could be anywhere, but Dina knew that the man before her knew that.

Dina sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her right hand, pulling back from the drawing. “Are you sure you heard ‘Onzo’?” Dina looked suddenly to Beatriz who immediately nodded her head. Dina looked down to the floor and then back to Kasim. “I… do not know what to make of this. From what I know Onzo is a dignified and committed guardsman. Hence why I ask, *signora*, if you did hear his name upon the lips of footpads.”

“I did.” Beatriz said perhaps too sharply making Dina furrow her brow.

There was a pained groan nearby and Dina looked over at the smallish one laying on the bed. She had slipped back into unconsciousness and was twitching. It was then that the curtain parted and in walked a tall, slender young man with neck-length golden hair.

”J'ai les cataplasmes, madame. Pardonne-moi.” he said. Dina said nothing in return and instead pointed to the third patient, the young man understanding and hastily hurrying to her bedside. Dina then looked back between Beatriz and Kasim.

“I… trust you are both well enough. You may return to me of course if you need further aid, but I must say that you have an outstanding debt to me given the amount of reagents and time I spent last night. That debt must be paid before I can offer further services should you need them. My sincerest regrets but… we receive few donations now.”

Beatriz looked like she was about to say something but stopped herself leaving Dina wondering only for her apprentice to beckon her over towards where the other patient lay.

“I am afraid your… friend here will have to stay with us for the time.” Dina looked to Kasim. “The wound has subsided but she does not seem to truly waken. Perhaps come back tonight or tomorrow. I will tell her that you will return should she rouse herself.”

Beatriz nodded rather awkwardly, casting an unsure and sympathetic look at the small one. Beatriz could not even recollect her name come to think of it which left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Onzo and his sister both live just two streets over from here,” Dina said as she took a poultice from her apprentice’s hand and applied it herself, “turn left once you step from the threshold and pass by the first street on your left and go down the second street on your left. Look for a small cottage home with a bright red door. Onzo and his sister Jeva live there. Perhaps Onzo himself can be found there. And take this…”

Dina reached down and slipped a bottle from one of her robe, a sizable vial filled with a clear liquid. “This tonic is for Jeva. She is meant to come for it today, do deliver it to her, per favore. A legitimate service.”

Taking the small vial of tonic, Kasim carefully slipped it into his pocket, the glass cool against his fingers. "Thank you, sister.” Kasim murmured, his voice heavy with gratitude and determination. Pausing, the Urdan scribbled updates in his notepad with a swift, practiced hand. Once finished, he looked over, meeting the eyes of his new compatriot and giving a brief, resolute nod. "Let's go."

As they exited the hospice, Kasim took one final, lingering glance back towards the Elf lying pale and motionless in the bed. His heart hardened, making a silent vow to himself. He would find whoever was responsible for this and they would pay for their actions.

“Beatriz.”

The Paladin said suddenly as the door to the hospice closed behind she and the Urdan now in her company - so it seemed. As Kasim looked to her she smirked wryly, saying, “I did not speak my name. I am Beatriz Trevino, good inquirer. Dama Beatriz Trevino, a… wayward servant of our Lord of Light, Etham, ironically. Very… wayward. And… what is your name in it’s fullest? If I may be granted such.”

Aha, Etham. Kasim smiled from underneath the safety of his hood. Of course. All the way across the sea and the man still couldn't escape it.

Jotting down the name, the Urdan put his notepad away and stuck out his hand, making sure to tilt his head back far enough for the woman to see his smile. "Kasim, Kasim al-Zahabi. It's a pleasure to meet formally meet you Miss Beatriz." Outstretched and waiting, he tried to make the woman feel more comfortable. "And don't worry about the waywardness of your belief, I won't judge."