PROLOGUE 2

  In the dark hazy sewer, the calm and content voice continued on.

  “So you failed to kill Carnan Frig, the new Harmonyist leader of Garaizan. But in your attempt to exfiltrate, Overlord, your party, got split up. Aritian and Momo got out with the teleportation runestones. John Timber, Mbaya, Corvus, and Tai were left behind. It was at this point that some mild suspicions about the motives of the quest were established as well.”

  Sounded about right…

  “And you say that was the end of the quest, so it seemed. There were no more instructions left behind by John Timber to follow at that point. So where did you proceed from there? Those who were captured, where did you go? And Aritian and Momo, did you try to discover what had become of your comrades? Or abandon them to their fate?”

  ---

  Momo Mauser, for how happy-go-lucky he usually was, was definitely not having a good time right now. One might say that he was actually on the verge of having an anxiety-ridden mental breakdown. Firstly, he had failed the quest upon which he had set out on, meaning that there was not going to be any sort of payout. Secondly, his companion Pan the panther had been sufficiently sliced up on many spots of her body. And thirdly, most of his new friends, of which he did not have many in the first place, were probably dead, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  He sat now in the middle of a grassy clearing surrounded by sparse trees and bushes alongside Aritian, who was nervously pacing somehow despite the arrow in his chest. It had been about two hours since they’d made it out- the dawn sun began to gleam over the horizon with beautiful rays. Pan brushed against Momo’s chin in a comforting manner, and said through druidic telepathy to him Cheer up. We were lucky to have made it out alive ourselves. She was right- they had gotten lucky. After all, Momo hadn’t even been injured whatsoever in the many skirmishes that occurred today, but at the same time this was really the first time he had ever been in real combat. The stress and gruesomeness of it all was hitting him like tall cold waves on a beach, over and over. The thunderous crackles of John Timber’s pistols. The bloody mess they left at the Mead and Ichor bar. The cacophony of explosions caused by the rocket tubes in the market square. Where did everything go wrong?

  Maybe it was way back when he still lived in Turos to the far west with his family, the Mausers. They were an enormous clan, with numerous cousins, nephews, aunts, uncles; Momo in fact had a whopping 12 siblings. As a tengu, a birdlike humanoid with feathered features and of course a prominent beaked mouth, the Mausers were exceptional orators, like many of their kind. As an anatomical advantage, most tengus could learn and mimic most languages almost intuitively, catching onto the phrases, definitions, and pronunciations twice as fast as any other creature. But Momo was not so fortunate.

  Sure, he had learned Commonspeak, and Tengu, and Orc and Elven and even Goblin by the time he was only 8 years old, but speaking any of it…was another story. The memories of his schoolhouse classmates, his brothers, his sisters, almost everyone would make fun of the way he spoke. I want play outside, Momo would say. Fish no taste good. Big cloud. Purple cloud. They’d call him various names- truly, the other kids would say, Momo lived up to the phrase ‘bird brain’. And sure, maybe he wasn’t always the smartest tengu in the tree, but he could think normally and logically, just that when it came to converting those ideas into words… something got mixed up along the way.

  Like many other denizens of Turos, Momo’s goal in life was to metaphorically and literally leave the nest and set out on an adventure outside of the nation. Problem was, that he really didn’t have any friends to venture out alongside with- a side effect of being frequently bullied. The one place where Momo felt he could get away from and forget about all his issues was at the zoo. It was a small zoo, with only a few animals- some rabbits, hedgehogs, owls- but Momo’s favorite was definitely the black panther they had. Most visitors would balk or tremble at the sight of the deadly creature feeding on its bloodied meals, but Momo would sit and watch in awe. The panther moved with such grace and power, looked with eyes that gleamed a profound yellow- but despite its magnificence, at the end of the day it was still stuck in a cage. Just like Momo, in many ways; unable to leave its current spot, stuck in time and space. When he visited, the tengu could almost sense its very emotions, its desire to be free.

  The years may have gone by, but Momo’s speech had barely changed. And the friends he had made were more like acquaintances, really. Any one of them would be embarrassed to leave on a quest outside of Turos with a stammering bird like him. It was only after his 20th birthday that Momo’s life would change forever.

  By chance, he had heard from his second cousin’s babysitter’s nephew’s doctor (who was also Momo’s uncle) that the zoo was going to be closed, and all the animals had found new homes- except for the panther. Since it wasn’t domesticated like the other animals, and would be too dangerous to release into the wilderness nearby, they were planning on euthanizing it. As soon as Momo heard this, he dashed to the zoo, to the panthers cage, and cried in disbelief. He wished he could say that he was sorry, that life was too cruel, because she would never be free and know what life could be like outside of the enclosure. That was the moment everything changed- when he heard Pan’s voice for the first time, right in his head.

  It’s okay to be different, Momo. They’re right- you’re not like everyone else.

  For a moment, he thought he was going insane, but the panther’s thoughts were somehow being transferred straight into Momo’s own mind.

  You can’t speak as well with the other mortals because you were born to converse with the wild- the animals. The insects. The trees. Tell them- tell them to release me from my cage. Only you can do this, Momo.

  His tears of sadness quickly turned to those of joy as he clenched his fists and willed the vines and branches nearby to pull apart the iron bars of her cage. By the time the zoo owners arrived, Momo and Pan were long gone. Gone from the zoo, gone from the city of Turos Vas, and gone from the eternal rut that it had seemed Momo was living in.

  But now, he was wondering why the hell he ever left the ‘rut’ in the first place. The quest did involve killing someone he’d never met, but Momo thought it would be glamorous- like slaying a dragon, or rescuing a lost ship, or any other legendary quest he had heard of as a kid. He dreamt of crowds of grateful people for a job well done, with treasure and fame as a reward. But instead he only got bloody public fights in dingy bars, loud exploding rockets on the streets, rampaging wyverns burning everything and everyone in sight. And the story about how the others had found Carnan Frig with that kid was the real kicker. There was barely anything heroic about this quest, and in the end, they hadn’t even been able to kill that evil priest. Finally, their party had been split up into two, with Tai, Mbaya, Corvus, and John Timber likely dead or worse. Out of everything that had happened, Momo had wished with all his heart to make friends out of his fellow adventurers. But that seemed pretty impossible now that they were all but gone.

  Over the last couple years, Momo had succeeded in ditching his strange way of speaking- perhaps it had been a matter of conviction, who could say. But during the events of tonight, he could feel it coming back. His old speech mannerisms. What a damned fool he was to think it was over. One day he would have the strength and the confidence to surpass this…

  “Any second now, they’ll be here,” Aritian murmured, "They’re going to be here, they’ve got to.”

  Momo just sat there and grimly stared up at the bard. Pan looked forlornly off into the distance.

  “Aritian. The rest of them aren’t coming. Face it- we failed. Failed the quest, failed our comrades- for wild’s sake, you’ve got an arrow sticking out of your chest.”

  “It’s better now,” retorted Aritian, “Besides- do you really think that they’re all dead already?”

  “Seriously? Yes, I do.”

  “Well I don’t.”

  “How can you be sure?” Momo pleaded.

  “It’s a feeling,” Aritian declared with a clenched fist, “like something that’s not finished. Like a cake whose sides haven’t pulled away from the edge yet. It’s not over yet. And they’re not dead.”

  Pan suddenly growled in a direction towards the edge of their clearing. She lowered down, as if to run or pounce. Someone’s here! Past those shrubs! warned Pan. Momo quickly got up from the ground and unsheathed his greatsword.

  “Who’s there!” he shouted with a quavering voice.

  First, there was nothing. It became suspiciously quieter than it was before. Aritian held his breath. Then, a loud, authoritative voice of a man answered.

  “Identify yourselves!” it yelled, “On behalf of the Storm Empire!”

  Momo hesitated, then responded, still seeing nothing and no one from the forest emerge.

  “I’m Momo Mauser, and this is my panther, Pan. Next to me is Aritian… something.”

  “Why did you… why are you giving us away?” whispered Aritian with worry, “They could be a patrol from Garaizan for all we know!”

  I don’t smell any lizardfolks, indicated Pan.

  From behind a large tree trunk came a fittingly large man, covered in heavy plated gray armor. They wore a double horned helmet with one of the horns broken off. They appeared to be the person who was speaking.

  “Where is John Timber, Tai Rone, Sardin Kang, and Mbaya?” he asked imposingly.

  Momo and Aritian looked at each other.

  “Who the hell is Sardin Kang?” they exclaimed.

  “Good. That was a test,” the armored man said, “and whose name did I not include then?”

  “Corvus. Pretty sure?” replied Momo.

  “Hold up, wait,” addressed Aritian, “you know who we are- who are you?”

  “We’re called Higherlord,” said a grizzled voice right behind the three of them, “We’re an adventurer group, very similar to yours, in fact.”

  About five steps away on their flank was a goblin wearing a dark cloak, smiling devilishly. How he had gotten so close without anyone noticing was a shock, and also somewhat embarrassing. A few moments later, several other figures approached in a non-threatening manner, Momo supposed since they had successfully passed this ‘test’. There was a horned tiefling mage, an elven fighter, and a halfling cleric it seemed, in addition to the human paladin who was speaking earlier and this goblin rogue. It was clear now to Momo that these five were much more experienced adventurers than they were.

  “So we may as well get this out of the way,” said the paladin, who seemed to be the leader of the bunch, “Your quest, if you hadn’t already guessed, had involved more planning and scale than was previously let on.”

  “I knew it,” muttered Aritian.

  “Because while John Timber maintained that he was the employer of the quest, the real director of the mission was the Storm Empire itself, which is who Higherlord works for as well.”

  “Woah…” gasped Momo, “So we’re like… secret heroes?”

  “Well, that depends, was the quest successful?” asked the paladin.

  Aritian and Momo explained what had occurred the day prior as well as the night before. The ritual sacrifice in the market, the bar brawl, the explosive escape out of town, and the fiery mess that was the botched assassination of Carnan Frig. Aritian did most of the talking, with Momo adding in points such as ‘The corpse smelled like flowers!’ and ‘Tai stepped in a beartrap!’, all while the cleric of Higherlord healed up Aritian’s wounds. Jarl, which was the paladin’s name, made short introductions between the members and picked up where Aritian left off at the end of their tale by pulling out a map.

  “So our job was then to escort you all back to the Storm Empire from where we are, in between the city-state of Garaizan and the Empire about here,” Jarl elaborated, pointing to a spot in the middle of the chart. “However, it seems that your other teammates, Corvus, Tai, Mbaya, and Timber were all either killed or captured. Now, it's highly probable that the Cassians took at least some alive as prisoners. Meaning most likely that they were sent to Altarus,” he said, indicating a marker near the bottom of the chart which was deep in cold, Cassian territory. “A notorious dungeon outside their southernmost city of Barren. We know that it's where captives who are either military or especially dangerous are usually sent to be interrogated and slowly rot otherwise.”

  Momo took in all this information very thoughtfully, but wondered where exactly this was going.

  “Now, you three have a couple options- you can either call it a day here, head on your way, and get nothing in return. Or, we can set you up on a route to head to the dungeon Altarus, and figure out who’s still alive, and possibly rescue your mates.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Now Momo understood what was happening here. Essentially, these Higherlord guys wanted himself, Pan, and Aritian to do the dirty work of finding out what was left of their band of adventurers. Momo was graciously going to have to decline, and perhaps head back to safety by making amends with his family back in Turos. Maybe he could tell some tall tales of his two years of adventuring, say that he met a unicorn, married a princess-

  “And we have also been authorized by the Storm Empire as well to grant your original reward alongside a 3,000 gold piece bonus for completing this secondary quest of travelling to Altarus,” added Jarl.

  Momo’s brain might as well have turned to solid gold upon hearing that statement. 3,000 extra gold? That would bring their reward for the quest to 4,000 if they went through with Jarl’s plan. Momo had never seen that much money in his entire life, much less from one payment. It was more than some nobles made in a year (he was pretty sure). He thought of all the clothes and magic stuff he could buy with that kind of money- he’d become what he always wanted to be in life; a real adventurer. Or at least he’d look the part.

  “I’d rather go with option two,” Aritian affirmed, “save our comrades.”

  “Me too!” chirped Momo.

  Pan barked in agreement.

  Jarl smiled. “Good. I’m glad you are going with the more noble decision. So, from here,” he said again pointing to their position on the map, “you should head to the north-east, where there’s a free port here. Try to lay low, and catch a cargo ship bound for the city of Barren. Bail off it before it docks, and then head for the prison. We’ll give you money for the passage, just try to lay low and be inconspicuous. Word about what happened at Garaizan is spreading, and Frig himself put a bounty on all of you. 5,000 gold pieces for each of your heads.”

  In one sense, Momo was a bit flattered- this was the most worth he’d ever had attributed to his life. And in a more sensible sense, he was terrified. With that much gold as a bounty on Momo, he was considering turning himself in. Not really. (Maybe.)

  Higherlord handed off some supplies that included rations and camping gear to the three adventurers before they went their separate ways. Aritian, Momo, and Pan were all dead tired from the previous day’s shenanigans, but they figured it would be smarter to keep moving before anyone got wise about who they were. After about three hours of hiking through some peaceful woods, they came upon the Gulf Port, a long line of wooden docks with various ships and vessels docked. The area was technically territory that didn’t belong to a nation, but Hell Knights of the Storm Empire would frequently visit to keep the peace, so Aritian assured Momo and Pan they would be fine for the time being.

  A quick tip of a copper coin to one of the harbormasters led the party towards a ship called the Zarl’s Wind, a large three-masted carrack that was bound for Barren leaving in two hours. Aritian requested that Momo let him do all of the talking in their negotiation for passage aboard the boat. They found the captain finishing a checklist of sorts on the main deck, a dark feathered tengu with crowish features wearing a beaten brown tricorn.

  “I’m Captain Dawnwing, what business be ye havin’ aboard my vessel?” he asked with a very maritime accent.

  Aritian started. “Greetings, Captain, we-”

  “YAR, we be lookin fer passage through an the scallywagins!” bursted Momo.

  There was silence for at least five seconds, during which Aritian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Dawnwing tilted his head sideways in confusion, narrowing his gaze.

  “Stop doing that,” said the Captain.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Apologies, captain," chimed Aritian, "My friend and I-”

  Pan gave a quick bark.

  “... and his friendly pet panther, were looking for passage to the city of Barren, and the harbormaster told us you’re going to head out soon for there. Could we perhaps negotiate hitching a ride on your beautiful ship?” asked Aritian with a smile, batting his handsome light eyelashes.

  Dawnwing took a moment to seemingly consider the proposal with serious thought.

  “As a matter o’ fact, I wouldn’t be against it- however, yer payment will come in the form of helping protect us against potential pirate attacks. If we do indeed get ambushed, I’ll be expecting you lot to come to the defense. Savvy?”

  “Yes sir,” nodded Aritian. “Sounds agreeable.”

  “Alright then. We’ll be casting off fairly soon, so don’t go anywhere. Say, what’re ye names?”

  “I’m Momo, and-” said Momo before realizing that giving away their names might not be such a bright idea with a several-grand gold bounty freshly placed on their heads.

  “Momanuel,” added Aritian, “and my name is Valarys. The cat’s name is Kitty.”

  That name sucks, thought Pan. Tell him that’s not my name.

  “Nice to meet all of ye, then. You’ll see the other crew mullin’ about soon- I suggest goin down an’ finding a cot to put yer belongings with now.”

  Aritian thanked the Captain and the trio went on their way down to the lower deck. Along the way they met several of the crewmates who were being paid to transport the Zarl’s Wind’s cargo of everburning torches.

  Org was a feisty little goblin wearing an oversized suit of scalemail armor combined with various pirate garb, packing a heavy flintlock pistol. According to him, Org was the one-man-army security force of the ship, and seemed to take it as a slight that Captain Dawnwing had taken on the three adventurers as additional protection.

  Fradrick was the first mate of the Zarl’s Wind, a big orc fellow who seemed fairly harmless and definitely drunk. Although it was his job to make sure everything was in its proper place before heading out on the voyage, Fradrick was clearly having a hard time counting the two lifeboats that were attached to the sides of the ship.

  Bibizan, the big-and-wide lizardfolk cook of the boat, was relieved to hear that Momo and his friends had brought along their own food for the journey, as there was only so much steak to go around. Momo got the impression that she was a perfectionist when it came to her cooking, and was certainly stingy with the use of ingredients.

  Eli, the ‘cabin boy’ of the ship, was a human kid who couldn’t have been over the age of 15, responsible for many of the menial tasks aboard- cleaning the decks, running food and drink, and making sure Fradrick didn’t fall overboard. Momo empathized with Eli since he reminded him of his own tough childhood days.

  Iritius seemed like quite a boring individual, a quiet aristocratic type who kept to themselves. He wouldn’t say why he was heading to Barren, other than for ‘business’. Iritius was a half-elf that wore a maroon fur-laiden suit complete with a matching wide-brimmed hat.

  Finally, there was Neri, a tribal-tattooed suli who hailed from somewhere in S’maraka. She was in charge of the cargo in the hold at the bottom of the boat, and making sure that the everburning torches they were keeping didn’t cause the whole thing to go up in smoke.

  By the time Momo had got himself situated in one of the cots downstairs and unpacked his belongings, the Zarl’s Wind was ready to cast off from the shore. He ascended the stairs with Pan just in time to see the wooden docks and forested horizon grow distant. Fradrick had become sober enough to hoist the sails and a nice eastern wind brought them out to sea. Aritian stood nearby, wind flowing through his long hair gallantly with a hand on the railing.

  “How do you do that?” asked Momo.

  “Do what?” responded Aritian without so much as turning his head.

  “Just… be confident. It seems like all the time. Like when we were back on the shore, sure that the quest had gone belly up and we had left with nothing and no one. You said you knew this wasn’t over. How could you be confident enough to think that?”

  Aritian squinted and took a gentle sigh, descending the stairs to where Momo stood with Pan.

  “Truth be told Momo, I’m not a very strong guy. Not a great fighter, maybe you’ve noticed that. I run plenty more often than I’ll confront my problems head on. Maybe one day, I’ll be strong enough to do that. But until then, the least I can do is act like I can’t possibly take a loss, and as long as I do that… my enemies will always second guess themselves. And maybe, the world will too for that matter.”

  “Woah…” muttered Momo, astounded.

  “Also, let’s head belowdecks. Some mooks were just posting up sketches of us at Port Gulf for the bounty. Spotted them a minute ago.”

  “WHAT!?” exclaimed Momo.

  They quickly disappeared into the lower deck, hoping that they were safe from any threats to their lives for the time being.

  ***

  A day had quickly passed at sea, and Momo was just getting used to the made-up names that Aritian, or ‘Valarys’, had given them. Trying to sleep on a moving boat had been especially difficult, and it seemed none of them had gotten a single wink the day prior. The plan was now to stay up so incredibly late that they would have to collapse from being exhausted. It was now late at night, and most of the crew including the three adventurers were at the dining tables playing blackjack. Momo didn’t really understand how the game was supposed to be played, he just liked saying ‘hit me’.

  “...so out of all the places you’ve visited, which is your favorite, Valarys?” asked Neri.

  “Hm… I’d say home is still my favorite. Back in Uranyet,” answered Aritian. “I’ll stay.”

  “Hit me,” said Momo.

  Bibizan wiped her apron and did a double take towards Momo, sitting across the table.

  “You have 6 cards. How are you possibly hitting again?”

  “I don’t have 21 yet,” replied Momo.

  “You know they don’t mean 21 cards, right?”

  There was currently 3 gold and 7 silver in the pot. Org and Fradrick had tapped out, but Momo, Aritian, Neri, Bibizan, and Iritus were still playing. Eli was probably swabbing the deck somewhere upstairs, and Pan couldn’t play because of a lack of opposable thumbs. Captain Dawnwing had apparently sworn off gambling entirely, so he was up on the quarterdeck stargazing.

  Momo was about to hit again when Pan said something telepathically.

  Upstairs. Do you hear that?

  There was some suspicious noise coming from the stairway behind Momo. It sounded like distant shouting, indiscernible but definitely angry. Which probably meant…

  “Uh… everyone… there might be some pirates coming.”

  The table went quiet as all seated listened intently. Then, total chaos erupted. Bibizan got up and ran back towards the kitchen. Neri scrambled down into the hold of the ship. And Iritius scooped up the money on the table and hid away in his cot.

  Momo, Pan, and Aritian headed up to the main deck to see what was going on. The yelling was definitely getting closer, seemingly from one voice just rambling over and over. It was impossible to tell what was being said. Captain Dawnwing stood by the railing of the main deck, looking out into the distance with a monocular.

  “What’s going on?” asked Aritian.

  “Not sure yet,” mused the Captain, “but it can’t be nothing good.”

  Off the port side of the boat, there was a slight fog present, and no visible moon in the sky, making the waves below almost impossible to discern. Momo prepared himself to cast his favorite spell, Snowball, at anything that crept out from the darkness. After a brief pause in the shouting, a dim orange light could be seen in the distance, about 200 feet away.

  “Hold on,” said Dawnwing, “I think I know who this is…”

  He motioned for Momo to put his spellcasting on hold. Aritian also lowered his bow.

  The thing causing all the ruckus finally came into view- it appeared to be a lizardfolk on a wooden raft of sorts, a weak lantern gleaming above them. They wore the tattered outfit of a typical swashbuckler, except that theirs was totally falling to pieces. As they got nearer, Momo could tell that the guy was shouting all sorts of threats and demands in a hoarse, crazy tone.

  “... all the gold on board! Chains, bracelets, rings- and I don’t care if they’re from weddings neither!”

  “MARLON!” screamed Dawnwing.

  “WHAT?!” replied the lunatic rafter, “AYE! Is that you, Rutherford?”

  As he rowed closer, Momo and Aritian got a better look at the singular ‘pirate’ approaching them. Their red skin was scarred and sun-dried, with scales that looked in the process of molting. This Marlon fellow must have been somewhat old given the aged appearance and whisks of long grey nose-hairs.

  “Aye,” responded the Captain, “‘tis me.”

  “I was expecting a merchant vessel! Obviously not yours.”

  “Yes. How did you get this far? We are ‘least 30 miles from shore!”

  “Drifted.”

  “Marlon. Are you sober?”

  There was silence for a short bit before the lizardfolk replied.

  “Yes.”

  “Marlon.”

  “... no.”

  Dawnwing massaged his beak with closed eyes and shook his head, saying to Momo and Aritian in a hushed tone, “I know this one. Poor old acquaintance of mine. Has a habit of getting sauced when he’s depressed and trying to stick up freighters by his lonesome. Never ends well, but he’s lucky.”

  The captain continued speaking towards Marlon again.

  “I apologize for everything going on with ye. I heard about Lucille leaving you and getting with that fat thumbhead Spiegel. Very sad.”

  “Lucielle… she is with Spiegel now?” responded Marlon.

  “Aye. I thought you had known.”

  “Nay.”

  The only sound for some time was that of the waves gently slapping against the hull of the ship.

  “Look,” explained Dawnwing, “there is salted meat below that I am not going to finish. It can be yours.”

  “Many thanks,” said Marlon. A few moments later, the captain returned with and tossed down a lump of lamb that the lizard caught in a fishing net. Dawnwing was about to say something when a horrible scream came from somewhere lower in the ship.

  Momo, Aritian, Pan, and the Captain followed the sound down past the lower deck and into the hold, the bottommost layer of the ship that was essentially a cramped cellar of storage. The adventurers had not been down here yet, but could immediately tell it was not a pleasant area; rooms were cramped with a mere height of 6 or so feet, there was a constant dingy smell in the air, and loads of crates littered the space. The captain proceeded forward toward the prow side, with Momo and the others moving along more cautiously. It was fairly dark, with only the light coming from Dawnwing’s torch to illuminate their way.

  Around a corner, they stumbled upon a grisly scene. There was a body face down on the wooden floor, a pool of blood slowly emerging from underneath. They wore a red fur coat, and had the pointed ears of an elven-kind; it was Iritius, the businessman who Momo found very dull. And beside them was Neri, the cargo worker, kneeling and checking them for signs of life.

  “He’s… dead!” she gasped, looking up with a gaunt face. Her tattoos looked like writhing snakes in the dim flickering light.

  Captain Dawnwing drew his scimitar almost silently. “Neri. What happened here? And don’t fib any details.”