Fantasy & Horror
Otrimont - Remnants of Fire

Summary

For Cassian Otrimont was supposed to be a refuge from everything as it had been for so many others. Once he was a Houseguard Captain, the elite soldiers of the canton empire. Once. Until even honor died. Now he has little more goals in life then living out whatever time he may have left in as much peace as may be possible in a crumbling world. Still haunted by his past however, it refuses to forget about him. And the shadows of the terror from the mainland reach far. A broken man called to choose between the remaining sparks of honor and peace.

Bit of a experimental thing trying out writing in english

Chapter 1 The Grudgesettlers Inn

It had promised to be an ordinary day. Yet he knew he was in trouble the moment he saw her. Of course, Cassian had known there would be some kind of trouble. This was Otrimont after all. What he had not expected to see here however was the sigil of the Sanguis Order. And a familiar face. He should have just ignored the letter. Did the gods know how it even found its way into his hands? Otrimont was a labyrinth. Finding someone here was almost impossible. The city was in truth

little more than a giant cave system dug into a large rock emerging from the western sun sea. And little more. Where it not for the old dwarven tunnels and catacombs this place would have been uninhabitable. As it was it formed a veritable fortress in the seas, the almost hollowed out rock giving shelter to thousands of inhabitants, even if space was limited. People made due. It was not like carving new tunnels and chambers took much effort where necessary. Some of the larger chambers, now more like smaller city’s unto themselves, had smaller dugouts and caves and simple buildings clinging to their walls reaching almost to the islands deserted, rocky top.

Connected by ladders and stairs and sometimes even just ropes they did little to alleviate the feeling of disorientation people often had to fight when they first arrived here. Being entirely underground there was little in the way of constant landmarks that would allow someone to navigate a regular city. At least for those few that just couldn’t adjust there was always the harbor. Otrimonts main harbor was a giant half waterlogged cave, its shore dotted by everything one would expect to find in any regular imperial port town. Market stalls offering everything, though mostly local products be it fish or what counted as beer around here. Taverns,

guesthouses, the occasional brothel and even some shipbuilders dotted the waterline. Though wood had to be imported like many things here. Expensive and so they were usually limited to repairing or refitting the existing fisher boats. The only thing that was freely available here was whatever the ocean provided… and good hard rock. Sometimes a smaller ore vein but Otrimont had been mined almost to exhaustion centuries ago by its original dwarven builders. Beyond the harbors wall stretched the inner sea. A large, dark pool of water, the cave ceiling so high an imperial ship of the line could have easily fit inside.

Beyond that was the gate. Large iron grates and ancient wooden panels covered in algae and salt that could be closed to seal the cavemouth that lead out into the open sea and plunging the harbor into almost total darkness. Natural light came at a premium here. Only very few sections of the sprawling underground city had shafts dug all the way to the surface, allowing natural light and air to flow in. Some of the better houses if that was what you could call them, usually more dug out caves with some wooden furnishing placed in front to make them look less like a hole in the wall, had actual chimneys to allow smoke to escape more efficiently instead

of slowly filling a homestead and then the streets with it whenever dinner time arrived. It was not comfortable but the people here had learned to adjust and make even the dimmest cave look somewhat homely. And he loved it. Maybe he should have been a dwarf, Cassian thought. But something about the sturdy rock walls everywhere all around made him feel safe. Protected. Or that was just his preference for knowing he had something solid in his back. He had read the letter over and over trying to decipher if there was some sort of hidden trap or meaning in it. It was a simple three-line

affair. “Your services are required. Be at the Harbor by morning. I will find you.” No signature except a symbol he had never expected to see again. Imperial iconography was rather simple. You had the House Banner of the Ruling Dynasty of the Lotherans, the burned tree and then sometimes still the old Belfare Banner of Lion and Eagle. He had carried it himself. Once long ago. It was still the preferred insignia of the Houseguards. Very rarely you may even find the black Dragonbanner of the Ordeal if you were looking at something truly ancient. Or dealing with the golden guard. This

however looked… different. It was an imperial seal and that’s what worried him. But it was… weird. That worried him more. Eagle and Lion. But as a seal. When had a Belfare seal last been used for anything but representative ceremony? The last Belfare Emperor died more then five hundred years ago. So, either a forger who didn’t know what they were doing… which raised the question why someone would make the effort just to lure him to a place he was regularly at anyway. Or something truly strange going on. It had intrigued him enough to decided to see what would happen. Not like he wasn’t going to the Harbor for his breakfast

anyway. His favored watering hole made some mean eggs with what passed for bacon for its early… or late hungover customers. Cassian was both. Though he had never dared ask where the eggs came from. No one in Otrimont he had seen so far raised chickens. Maybe imported. Maybe better not to ask given the nature of his patron. “You look worse than usual.” The giant snake was blinking at him as it sat down a plate of freshly made omelet. Most people first meeting a Vantat would have probably run. And Cassian couldn’t really argue with them there. Talamon was huge. Scaled skin black as

night that hid him in the half light and made his outline appear even larger. The bright yellow scales on his abdomen and chin the only thing that made him clearly visible, where not covered by an elaborate grey dress with purple decorative stitching. A purple cloak held by a golden pin fell over his shoulders. Vantat, he had learned, all just had a thing for elaborate clothes. And if you could look past the rough exterior of a giant snake with arms, they usually had amenable personalities. Even if they were built like a Tank like Talamon. The perks of having not only to deal with drunk dwarves and humans but also his own kind. The latter he could probably

carry out almost a dozen at a time. And in fact, Cassian had seen him do exactly that. Four over his arms and another six held in the coils of his massive tail that stretched all the way back to the counter and the small kitchen besides it. The average Vantat could easily clock in at half a ton of pure muscle. Not easy to move even for one of their own. They were the true rulers of Otrimont after its original dwarven inhabitants had disappeared. Not that this kept the newly arrived dwarves from claiming it was rightfully theirs even after the Vantat had without needing to handed them their own quarters. Something that had caused no end of small-scale quarreling. At least

on the side of the dwarves. The Vantat where apparently happy enough to just leave them be. “Not worse then yesterday. Say you don’t have anything then algae beer left in stock?” What the dwarfs managed with little more then algae farms and a bit of imported hops was truly miraculous… but he also wasn’t sure he could stomach it right now. No matter what it kept an aftertaste of sea water. Not something he wanted right now. “For you always.” The Vantat moved with a speed that was almost troubling given his size and disappeared in a store room. Moments later a small green critter came running out carrying a bottle

of something that looked right. The Kobold sat the bottle down with a loud squeak. Cassian sighed then rifled through his pockets and found a small silver flake. Imperial coin was accepted here of course but he had run out of those ages ago and most people basically accepted anything that had value at the end of the day. Even if it was scraps from a long run dry silver mine. Something he had picked up during his last excursions into the emptier tunnels far off the settled caves. Did the Immortals know why Talamon had a soft spot for the lizards? Well… maybe because they reminded him of

himself. Cassian dint mind them but Kobolds had a… interesting understanding of property. If you could take it, it was yours. If someone else took it back it was theirs. Until you could take it back in turn. Something belonging to someone permanently was as alien to their mind was breathing water would be to his. More than one new arrival had found themselves ending their celebration in Talamons establishment with empty pockets and not because they had spent it all. The more veteran Otrimont residents knew only to bring what they were willing to lose. Its how this place had earned his name.

The grudge settler’s inn. Almost every dwarf in Otrimont swore Talamon had ripped them off. And yet they came coming back because Talamon also had an uncanny talent for getting his hands on some of the rarer brews on the Islands. Enough to make even an angry dwarf forget why he was upset. He snipped the silver at the Kobold who caught it with an excited noise then hurried back to the store room. What remained was a bottle of amber colored proper dwarven brew… and a brown furred rat blinking at him. “Emergency Rations… Talamon! Your pet escaped again!” The Vantat appeared in the door of the

store room again. “She doesn’t escape she is just to smart for a cage. Rations!” The rat raised on its hind legs, sniffed the ear for a moment, before leaping off the table and hurrying across the floorboards, then swiftly climbed up the snakes’ tail only to reappear from one of his sleeves. “She doesn’t like the bars you see.” He laughed and took a swig of the beer. Enough to make the pounding headache stop for the time being. Cassian kept an eye on the harbor from his place at one of the windows, seeing if he could spot anything unusual. There were always ships coming in and leaving. Otrimont was the safest port for weeks and the

beating hearth of trade in the entire region. You could sell almost everything here as everything was needed and in exchange there was dwarven craftsmanship, a good place to rest and an endless supply of human refugees from the mainland in search for work to get new deckhands. And of course, if one should wish the services of a Vantat negotiator. On the Islands the reputation of the snake people as skilled and trustworthy diplomats was almost legendary. Not without reason given their, despite their size, usually very calm tempers. You could get two Silverlords into a room that would kill each other on sight but get a Vantat in

with them and they would at least listen. Not that he hadn’t seen that the very opposite could be true as well, Cassian thought. Making a Vantat lose its temper may be difficult but if you managed it… there was really little you could do besides hope it didn’t kill you if you didn’t have a small canon to hand. He kept watching the Harbor. The only thing that momentarily raised his attention was the figure of a dark robed man and a white scaled Vantat in armor disappearing on one of the leaving ships. It was rare seeing one actually wear weapons. Warriors and Soldiers existed of course, there was even one who once joined the house guard, but usually they

preferred hiring other people to do the dirtier work running a city required. Like him. An armed Vantat was a rare sight indeed. He knew he made a mistake not paying closer attention to his surroundings when a familiar voice called out to him. An old familiar voice. As rough as he remembered. From a person he had not expected to ever see again. “Cassian Acculeian?” He had only seconds to react he knew. His hand wandered to the knife in his belt and he cursed himself for not taking a pistol this morning, believing this would be enough. It would not be. Not against an order

mage. The woman before him was wearing a long bright blue-green robe. They were designed to be loud of course, the golden emblem on them could have as well been a giant sign with the word’s wizard on them. They were supposed to be recognizable. For their own and other people’s protection. Golden glasses sat on a rather stern face marred by the first small wrinkles. Most of them from worry not from laughter as he knew all too well. She had gotten older. As had he. The once golden-brown locks now dulled by grey. But of course, there was still that goddamn notebook always at her hip or in her hand. Her need to record

everything. He doubted his death would make more then a footnote in her daily report though. Took them, long enough to find me, he thought. Almost a decade. It had been a damn good run. But if the emperor thought he would sit here and await his execution by mage he had miscalculated. Fighting a mage one on one was a tricky proposal. There was only one guarantee. The knife slipped half out of its sheet. Surprise and shock. Knife to the throat. Immediately. If it doesn’t kill her, keeping herself from bleeding out will keep her occupied enough, she won’t get a spell off. Then

just run. Onto the next ship. Hide in the cargo hold. Doesn’t matter where it goes. Every muscle in his body coiled like a spring. Old instincts took over, hard to ignore even after all these years. His movement would be a blur. The knife finding its targets before anyone would realize what was happening. He would be gone as fast.

Chapter 2 Peaceofferin

For a moment the only noise in the small inn was the grinding of the small wheel below the fireplace. One of the few with an actual chimney. A few vertical metal bars had pieces and cuts of various meats placed onto them. Both the smell and the noise made his headache worse. If only the Kobold, one of the furred ones with a head shape that reminded him more of one of the Gejarn Wolfs of the Heartlands, could stop for a moment. He was running in the small wheel, driving the spits and keeping the meat cooking

evenly. In the night, Talamon sold drinks. At day hearty foods. Did the gods know when that snake ever slept? Maybe he just fell asleep upright behind his bar. Not like he had ever seen a Vantat sized bed before so who knew. “Cassian?” Now something like emotion crept into the mages voice. He wasn’t sure he actually liked that more than the cold address she had made before. “Lord and Throne, you look horrible.” Thanks Olin, he thought. The Knife was forgotten for a moment as she pulled a chair up and sat down. Cassians hand was shaking, still clutched around the handle. What had he just almost done? His body was still ready to act, to

immediately pull the blade at the slightest provocation… It was not unexpected he thought. Not even the first time. But the force with which it had hit him the sharp focus it had taken… Even after all these years. He thought his instincts had rusted. Not his violent ones apparently. Just… everything else. At least listen to what she wants, he told himself and slowly let go of the blade. If Olin had noticed, she didn’t show any signs of it at least. Didn’t exactly mean much as he knew. Her face was as unreadable as ever if one ignored the obvious signs denoting a lack of sleep… and good humor. How little could change in a

decade. “If you here to kill me, get it over with. If you are here to drag me back kill me because you won’t be able to.” She had apparently expected something like that. “Your desertion has been forgiven. The Empire still recognizes the services once rendered whatever you may have convinced yourself of hiding in this….” She took a long look around the room. “Hole of a city. I am here to ask for help.” Of course, she pulled the notebook from her hip and made some quick scribbles with a feather pinned behind her ear. The tip glowed softly in the dark. No need for ink if you could just

cast a quick spell to burn the words into the paper. “So, the Lotherans would rather prefer to have their war dog back is that it? Also not happening. So sorry you came the whole way out there. Its… good to see you are still alive. But leave if that is everything. Now. My duty to the Lotherans is done.” “I am not here on behalf of them.” “What you came here just to check on an old friend? Olin please. I know you better then that. So, spit out what you want already. You hate wasting time.” “I do. Which is why it is important to let you know that there’s no more Lotheran

Emperor.” “So, what is this? One last hurrah to throw everyone you can get at the Whaid and the Dragons. Sorry the Empire is done and you know that and I won’t be roped into it.” Another scratch with the feather and the expression on her face became decidedly less unreadable for a moment. Annoyance. “I am here on direct orders of Lord Simon Belfare. In fact, he’s the one that requested I seek your aid specifically. He seemed… rather impressed by your past record. The emperor reborn has called for you.” And there it was, he thought. Of course,

he had heard the rumors reaching the islands from the mainland in recent months. Of a walking legend in the flesh. Of the tide turning. Of… peace even, fragile as it may be. The Hasparians may be delusional enough to believe it if someone presented them with a convincing actor that claimed to be an ancient ruler returned from the grave. Enough so to agree to a truce. But to hear someone like Olin was believing in that crap? “Emperor reborn? Please tell me you don’t actually buy that insane stuff. Stories of an ancient ruler just walking into the flying city right when you needed it most may make for some good

propaganda but… dead people usually stay dead.” “I do not simply believe it, Cassian. I know. I have seen him and spoken to him personally. Do I really need to tell you of all people I was skeptical? But if he isn’t what he claims to be he’s good enough at playing the part I do not doubt his intentions are genuine. Madman or not he is our hope rekindled. And… I do not think he is mad. Simply a man out of time. If you could talk to him… actually hear him speak of the glory we have lost of the plans he once forged for us and that we may still reclaim what is gone. Not with ever more blood but with an open hand… you may believe

to.” “All right… I am going to ignore you sounding like a complete madwoman for a moment right there. Maybe you want to lay off the booze or whatever you Order guys like to indulge in.” “Says the man smelling like a barrel of cheap booze.” “It isn’t that cheap here.” He shot her a smile. A genuine one. He knew what he looked like. A man in worn clothes with long unkempt black hair that was showing the first hints of grey and enough stubble in his face to count as a beard. And a somewhat unsettling pair of bright amber eyes amidst them that far too often seemed to stare right through

things. “So, let’s hear it. What does a living god want with me?” “The emperor requested me to assess the danger of a possible infiltration of Otrimont by the enemy. I will need to know everything you have about the local smugglers specifically.” She flipped a page in her notebook and set the pen down at the top as if she expected him to just start talking immediately. “So. Smugglers, is it? Why is a living god interested in who sells what on a rock like Otrimont?" “I fear that information is not mine to give until you agree to help.” “And if I, don’t I end as fodder for the

fishes in the harbor. Great.” Anger took over. “When will my so-called betters stop asking for more?” He only realized he had stood up when the half empty beer bottle hit the floor. Talamon looked up from where he was sweeping the floor, then returned to work as if he hadn’t noticed anything. The Vantat had learned when it was necessary to intervene before a brawl started and obviously didn’t think Cassian was about to lose it and beat up a middle-aged woman in his establishment. Cassian himself wasn’t so sure about that anymore. His hands gripped the edges of the table. “When?”, he repeated then slowly sat

down. Olin remained silent for a bit, actually stowed away that goddamn book for a moment. “I am not ordering you to do anything and neither is the emperor. I was… supposed to give you this earlier but I found it more prudent to wait till you agreed. This may have been… a mistake and I apologize. I like keeping my cards close. You deserve… better.” She produced a small roll of paper from her robes and laid it on the table before him. It was sealed with blue shimmering way bearing the familiar old seal of eagle and lion. Cassian took it, carefully as if it may

bite him, before breaking the seal and slowly unrolling it. His eyes went over the first few lines, then stopped. Then went over them again as he finished unrolling the scrolls fully. Checked the seal at the bottom, the signature the words. Over and over again. “It’s genuine.”, she assured him. “An official recognition of your… resignation from your house guard. Listing your deeds and records rendered in service to the empire it makes it know that you were allowed to retire with honor and grace from your post. No one will come after you. There’s no mention of desertion here and once signed you…

were a simple citizen of the realm once more, free to act and walk and do whatever you may see fit. Well not entirely. It also comes with a minor noble title in… late recognition of your deeds and a small stipend of about 20 standard imperial silver coins or equal goods and valuables per month. Effective immediately. And retroactively.” She threw a large leather pouch on the table, heavy enough with coin to land not with a clattering sound but an audible thump. “It’s not a fortune but enough to not worry about anything for a while. The emperor hopes it may be enough to make up for some of the… inconvenience

caused.” Peace. Freedom. He held the letter in his hands for a moment longer. Then slowly sat it down. The only question that remained here was… what the price of this would be and he didn’t doubt for a moment there would be one. “So now I am being bribed… and held hostage with a piece of paper, is that how this is going to go?” “No. This is simply your copy. It has already been signed and entered into the imperial Archives and spread among the houseguard. There is no one left to question whether you are a free man or not.” “And if I get up right now and just leave,

what then?” “Besides me being a bit disappointed?” Olin shrugged, then she shook her head. “Nothing. I had strict orders to give you this no matter what. I will simply find someone else. If need be, a free Legionnaire. But Lord Belfare was personally impressed by your record and so selected you himself as a possible first contact. You weren’t my first choice, Cassian. But his. And I happen to trust his intuition by now. It may be strange for a mage to say this but he sees more than the average mortal. Not all that weird for a man returned from the dead, I guess. So, him selecting you means there’s something to

that” Cassian took a deep breath. “Talamon. I am going to need something stronger to replace the beer.” “Its eight in the morning.” Olin shot him a concerned glance. “So? Doesn’t make the Nightmares less present.” “Nightmares?” She sounded suddenly very concerned. More so than the simple statement should have justified. “The usual thing. What not hung around any Veterans of red pass in your time?” “There aren’t that many of those.” “True enough.” Talamon set down a small glass with a vicious, clear liquid in front of

him. “Careful with that my friend, pretty sure its flammable.” “You know how to cheer a man up.” Cassian threw him one of his newly acquired coins. “Going to be back this evening for the change.” He emptied the glass in a single draw. It burned but that was besides the point. The Headaches receded a bit. “What even is that?” Olin asked. “Lisembria import.”, the Vantat replied. “Heard the Legion cleans it armor with the stuff.” “What would you prefer to sample the local beer instead?”, Cassian asked. “Probably less… outright

toxic.” “You only say that till you had a bad batch of the best Otrimont dwarven Lager. If you hadn’t noticed no one here is planting grain anywhere any time soon. Trust me you don’t get the taste of seaweed out of your mouth for the rest of the evening.” He made an effort to get up and carefully placed the letter and the silver in his pocket. “I am going to start my round of the refugee district early. Tag along if you have to. Maybe you feel like telling me a bit more about what you are doing here before I agree to anything.” Schreib mir was!

Chapter 3 The refugee district

Otrimonts refugee district was less a dedicated part of the city and more just… where people had ended up en mass. Most of the island city’s actual quarters were centered around larger open caves that served as both a central meeting spot and markets. The people that had fled the mainland however had largely just settled one of the long corridors leading towards Otrimonts center from the harbor. And taken over most of it by now. Carved dwellings lined the walls up to the low ceilings many of them only

constructed in the last few years. Not the nicest place to live but people had taken to it. Wherever possible large carpets and banners hung over doorframes and windows. Garlands, sometimes just shreds of particular colorful fabric, had been hung between opposing homes, sometimes also carrying simple lanterns to provide more light and just bright spots in the eternal darkness beneath the Stone. Some homes even had obviously worn but lovingly maintained imperial banners hang in front of them. The insignia of far-off cities. Vara, Lasanta, even the golden flags of proud Galeret swayed in the constant draft haunting the tunnels.

The people made do and had turned even these less then welcoming quarters into as much as an image of home as they had been able to. It was a noisy place. The stones reflected and echoed every word spoken, every footstep and clang of a tool. And an overrun one. Normally Cassian had to shove his way through the masses of people. Now however, even the densest crowds suddenly seemed to find a way to make more space for the figure in order robes walking among them, sometimes shoving into each other just to make sure they wouldn’t touch the mage. When had they last even seen a true wizard out here? It may have been never. Some of

the younger ones could have grown up here only ever hearing tales of the Order and its once dominance over magic. A faded memory now as well, what was left of the order was less then a shadow of its former glory. The ones too old and broken to serve any longer, the scribes and artificers and the youngest yet too unexperienced to truly wield their Ability. It may take decades for it to recover if it could at all. And yet their old image endured. “I guess I could get used to that at least.”, he thought out loud. “I am not your personal way clearer. These people still remember the order as it was. Much has changed since most of

them left the empire.” “Well, you are for now.” The smell of smoke hung thick in the air. It had nowhere to go and gathered at the ceiling where it had stained the once beige colored rock black. It mixed with the smell of seawater drawing in from the harbor coating everything in a heavy blanket of moisture and dense fumes. Water was constantly running down walls, channeled through roughhewn drains at the edges of the tunnel towards carved drops where it disappeared gurgling in the black depths of Otrimont. Probably lead back to the Ocean via some sort of underground pipes. Street Vendors lined the narrow ways,

some selling simple meals made over open fires, others offering small things from cooking utensils to clothes. Most of these people weren’t merchants by trade, as Cassian knew all too well. Just people trying to earn some sort of income selling whatever they could spare or scrounge together. Another passageway had a Vantat handing out small packages of rations and medicine to a small crowd. Cassian have them a short nod. It was thanks to them this place hadn’t turned into a complete disaster. Both by accepting the people here and at the same time providing the barest essentials where they could. And for what it counted he was thankful for that. Most

here were. They hadn’t expected fair treatment. After all they hadn’t even gotten any at the hands of their own countrymen when war and poverty displaced them and they had to abandoned their home towns and villages. Otrimont wasn’t a paradise. But it had welcomed them not as foreign men and women appearing at their shores, but as if they were distant friends in need. Even the dwarfs had, even if grumbling as ever, agreed with the cities council to provide a space for anyone arriving from the mainland. Considering everything it would have probably been more concerning to see a dwarf that didn’t had

something to complain about. “This place is pure chaos.” Olin walked around a puddle of some spilled oil, painting glittering rainbow streaks on the stone. “Yes. It is. And still, it somehow works. Glorious, isn’t it?” “Not the word I would personally use.” “You have always been a stickler for doing everything by the books. Want to see how the Empire would handle this. Or maybe not. Probably carol everyone into a camp and let them rot in some tents.” “Would be less chaotic.” “Yes, and they could just all die and starve outside of view, how convenient. I

am sure they would appreciate their glorious betters being so concerned about them.” “Where are you even going?” “I told you, making my rounds. But first I have to do a quick stop at home.” “You have… a home here?” She seemed genuinely surprised by this. “What you think I sleep on the floor?” Not that he hadn’t done that. For quite some time. “So maybe while I do that you could finally tell me what this is all about.” “That means you will help me?” Of course, that was all that interested me. “Look, I happen to like this place. If it is actually in danger… then yes, the

gods may damn me I will see what I can do. But I will need a bit more information then: The city may be infiltrated by someone and apparently via the smugglers.” “After I had the opportunity to check on them myself, yes. Not sooner. It may be nothing. These are… state secrets, Cassian. And you are not… part of the state. Even if your past offenses may have been forgiven.” You know nothing about my offenses. He bit his tongue from saying anything. “Sounds almost like that’s personal.” “It is not.” Oh, it was, Cassian thought. But she was obviously not ready to talk about that. Not like he cared. Let that

women stew in whatever scenario she had made up in her mind. “You and your secrets…” They reached a small indent in the rock where multiple homes had been carved around a small open courtyard. Cassian climbed a short staircase to a entrance to their rigth and shoved the carpet hanging over it aside. Not as elaborate as the ones used by most other homes here, simple, faded cloth with only fragments of color still remaining. The interior was all that much more appealing. There was a small straw filled mattrass on a simple wooden frame, a shelf that held… exactly two books a cooking area around a fake fire place

with no way for the smoke to go but outside the windows… and grey walls. “Not exactly… cozy. You… live here?” Olin had to duck under the doorframe and still almost hit her head on the ceiling. He had gotten used to it long ago. She obviously was still adjusting to Otrimonts more cramped conditions. “I sleep here.”, he corrected her and kneeled besides the bed, before pulling out a long wooden chest from under it. “To be fair I only moved in a few weeks back… or was that already two months.” “Doesn’t look like anyone here uses actual doors?” “What for? Nobody here has anything worth taking. Even the Kobolds have

given up. And that’s saying something.” He opened the chest and pulled out a long two barreled musket. He checked the weapon, made sure it wasn’t loaded, then sat it down on the bed. Next came a simple wrapped uniform coat he put on over his worn clothes. Unlike those it was almost immaculate. Not imperial make but close enough to look like it a bit. Three triangle amber pieces were sewn into the sleeves, connected by a thin silver chain, making a sort of improvised chevron. Not a rank symbol the empire used but again he was happy with that. It only had to look the part. Lastly followed a belt that went over his shoulder and waist holding a short,

sturdy looking sword. The gilded hilt had scratches and wear marks but the blade was still sharp, still shining and catching even in the dim light. Made to endure. Unlike himself maybe. “You kept it.” “It’s a good blade.”, he simply replied, letting the houseguard gladius slide back into its scabbard. The hilt was tapered so it could be slotted into a muskets barrel to turn it into a bayonet if needed. “And perfect for the cramped conditions here. Try swinging a longsword or a saber down these tunnels. See how that goes.” “But not anything else.” “Well, I wasn’t going to walk across the empire in full dress uniform and… the

wheellock was broken after red pass. I didn’t… want any more reminders of that day anyway.” He sat down and pulled the flintlock shotgun on his lap. He checked the flints, cocked the hammers, dry fired it once and watched as a shower of sparks danced through the air for a moment. Of course, everything was working but the process still felt necessary. Calming even… old habits died hard. He had to make sure, before he started to carefully load each of the barrels with a selection of small lead pellets, then poured powder on the pans either side and closed them with a final clicking sound. “Are you fearing

trouble?” “No. But I like being prepared for it anyway. And you being here screams trouble. Normally I don’t even take this thing on patrol.” “Patrol?” “I guess my less then official title now is that of Otrimonts Sherriff. At least as far as the refugee district is concerned. That’s why the Vantat put this little thing on me.” He pointed to the small amber filigree on his sleeve. “Most people only have a very surface understanding of imperial iconography. If it got amber its important. And if you combine it with a Uniform that looks good enough and then let everyone knew, there’s now a former

houseguard soldier walking the streets… well… caves… they usually think thrice before trying to cause any problems. Not that I had many in the first place. More a symbolic thing. The people here would rather trust one of their own rather then whoever between dwarves and mercenaries and Vantat can spare a few guards now and then. And the title of a houseguard still holds some respect and authority, even out here.” He got up and put the muskets sling over his shoulder. Then took a small lantern from in front of the door and clipped it into his belt. “I assume that makes sense. Ruling through respect rather than fear.” “Might do the empire some good to try

that some time.” “I am trying to tell you; things are not like they once were anymore. I cannot… approve of every change the reborn emperor demands but… the effect I can’t deny.” “I believe it if I see it.” , he simply responded before stepping out the door. They had made it less then halfway through the refuge quarters. If Olin hadn’t told him at least a bit more by the time he finished his round through the tunnels, he would simply send her away. He had resigned himself to that. But she remained steadfast silent as she followed him through the crowd. Now that he was wearing his uniform the

people made an effort to at least let him through, if not the panicked dodging out of the way that the sorceress caused. It was more respectful than fear driven and he appreciated that. When he started of course very few people had taken him seriously. But that had changed in time. All you needed to do, he thought, was proving you actually cared about them. But how to explain that to someone like Olin… he wasn’t sure. The Order was a cold institution. It had to be. And it produced colder beings, both men and women utterly loyal to the Empire but also… lacking in certain aspects. Empathy for example, he thought.

Chapter 4 Justice

Most of his Patrols were calm experiences nowadays. The occasional brawl that a quick word would break up, complaints about a stolen something or other that he had no chance to ever recover in the labyrinth of houses and tunnels but promised to keep an eye out for. He actually kept a list of stolen items on his person, a small booklet with a short description and who they belonged to. Just in case he actually stumbled upon one. Most were trinkets. Coin, small pieces of jewelry people had managed to keep or just memorabilia that

looked valuable but was little more then painted tin or copper. Though in the last few weeks there seemed to have been a curious increase in just… metal disappearing. Everything from pots and pans to cutlery. Probably just a particularly desperate Kobold. If it was shiny enough, they would take almost everything. Still, it felt necessary to show he took even these small concerns seriously. And then there was the rare moment of excitement like the one they stumbled into. They were nearing the end of his route where the tunnels that served as the refugee quarter would spill into one of

Otrimonts central larger caves. The Vantat district and with it the seat of the cities council and what counted as its government. Olin had been content to just walk with him. Not saying a word more about her purpose here then she already had. He couldn’t take the silence anymore and broke his resolve to just let her run into a wall if she wasn’t prepared to tell him more. Maybe a bit of encouragement was in order. “So… we are nearing the end of the district. If it is smugglers, you are looking for, yes there are quite a few here. This Island has more side tunnels and caves then rats. Some lead all the

way to the surface or even to small coves that a boat can use to land without having to use the harbor if they know how to navigate the rocks. They aren’t… very hard to find. Walk down any given tunnel that isn’t part of the city long enough and you will probably stumble over a stockpile or camp.” “Good. Then I will need to talk to them.” “You mean interrogate?” “If it is necessary.” “Olin, these aren’t violent criminals you know? Just… people trying to get by. They just won’t be too pleased with a stranger in mage robes rolling up and asking them endless questions.” “Not my Problem. I will learn what I

need and if my suspicions aren’t confirmed leave again.” “So that is everything? You just what want to see if they heard anything suspicious? You are not… going to start burning down illegal operations and set half the island on fire?” She gave him a confused look. “I have been instructed to take a more delicate touch if at all possible. The empire does not need more enemies and in that I happen to agree with Lord Belfare.” “Surprising. The Olin I knew would just poke her nose into anything and fight her way out if it got her into trouble.” “Still an option.” He took a heavy breath. “I am sure I will

regret this but… maybe… if all you really need is a Otrimont smuggler willing to answer some questions then it may be better if I talk to them. They know me. We aren’t exactly having a trusting relationship but they won’t shoot me on sight at least. As soon as you have your answers you will leave?” “That depends on the answers.”, she responded in a cold voice. “You really aren’t going to tell me anything are you?” “Just because the emperor said to bring you in doesn’t mean I trust you with everything so for now… no, I won’t.” “All right, in that case I’d rather ask for permission before snooping around in the

side tunnels. Don’t want to piss off the wrong people. Or person.” “You need permission to leave the central areas? What the Vantat don’t allow you to just walk around?” “They don’t strictly disallow anything. Why do you think there’s that many smugglers in the first place? The closest thing this place even has to a government is a city council of dwarves and snakes that can never agree on anything either way.” “So why even ask then?” “Because its polite, Olin. This isn’t the empire. Manners matter more than rank.” “Says the man living in a hole in the

wall.” He ignored the comment. “And I actually like the scaly buggers. They have been… kind Olin. You know that word? It’s not like they will say no anyway, just want to keep them informed.” “About me.” “Among other things yes.” “Acceptable. My mission here is a secret. My presence is not. So, we are actually going to call on this… Otrimont council for this?” “If you have a few days. Or weeks. No. I prefer the short route. You learn quickly which people around here really pull the strings. And I suggest visiting one of them. A Vantat. Her name is Shalinan.

She can be a bit difficult but you should just leave the talking to me anyway.” Well, he thought to himself, more like she will eat you alive if you talk to her like you do to me. She’s not known for being particularly patient with people that threaten her home. And just in case I would prefer to have someone in the know you can’t just get rid of if you stab me in the back. It wasn’t far now to the central district the Vantat had reserved for themselves. Otrimonts settled area was a large circle, if one ignored the incomprehensible number of more or less inhabited side tunnels and caves. On the bottom you had the harbor with tunnels leading to

both the dwarven and the Vantat district on the opposite sides of it the latter of which had become the refugee quarters and then further tunnels on top of the circle connecting the two districts. There were further tunnels and unmapped sections running between the three main areas but nobody had made the effort to actualy claim them for anyone so those were mostly inhabited by a colorful mixture of Vantat, Humans, Kobold Clans and even the occasional Gejarn. Dwarves were rarer outside of their dedicated Quarters, they preferred to stick to their own. Cassian could even swear he had once seen a Faun pass through and a few weeks ago there had

been a small incident when a ship had brought an actual giant. A legion mercenary if Cassian had understood the rumors correctly. Of course, there had been no way for it to get anywhere outside the harbor but everyone had a good laugh about it anyway. Which was at least better than the alternative of an angry giant rampaging in the harbor. Speaking of which he thought, as a large framed man burst through the crowd before them, waving what looked like a cleaver over his head. Cassian knew him. A local butcher that had managed to hold on to a few pigs when he arrived here. Apparently, they didn’t mind the dark and were now one of the few sources of

actual fresh meat in the refugee district. Before him ran a scrawny figure of a man, clutching something to his chest. He was young, Cassian noted. And probably hadn’t seen anything but the water soup some of the local kitchens provided for free in weeks. When he noticed he was running right at Cassian he skittered to a halt, looking left and right for an escape of either the angry butcher or the sheriff. Cassian shook his head. Another day in the district. With a few steps he was in front of the young thief and held a hand up to his angry pursuer. “No worry’s he isn’t getting away.” He placed a firm hand on the young man’s

shoulder. “And put that goddamn axe down before someone gets hurt.” The butcher let the cleaver sink. “Sorry I… gods I have to look like a madman right now. He didn’t take much just some scraps but… I wasn’t looking for a single second and next thing I know it’s gone.” “Worth it I hope?” Cassian asked the would-be thief. The man seemed to shrink under his gaze a bit, eyes still darting left to right looking for an escape. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”, he warned him. “Now if you would show me what you took from the poor man to make him so angry?” “No… nothing.”, the thief stuttered. Cassian sighed then looked at the

butcher. “What’s missing?”, he asked. “Not much. I had some leftover. Just wasn’t paying attention for one moment and… gone. Only saw him disappear in the crowd.” Cassian threw the butcher a silver coin, who caught it. “I am assuming that should cover what he took. And… any potential damages.” “More than that.” “Good, for the rest I want you to bring whatever its worth to the nearest public kitchen.” “It will be done. What about him?” Cassian looked at the thief for a moment longer. Then shoved him along as he

finally let go. “Get lost. And don’t let me catch you trying that again. I really have better things to do then drag someone before the council for a few coins worth of food.” The man stumbled back, then made a quick bow, still clutching the stolen food to his chest. Blood was running from between his fingers where they crushed the fresh meat. “May the hand of gold and virtue bless you, my lord.” “Yes, yes I am a gracious god now fuck off.” With that he disappeared in the crowd. Cassian took another deep breath. This place was already close to madness as it

was. The last thing he needed was one of the few people actually providing food murdering someone with a cleaver over scraps. Olin had watched the entire exchange silently. Her notebook was once again in her hand as she wrote something down. The faint magical glow of the feather illuminating her face. “A weird blessing.”, she mused more to herself then actually talking to him. “I am not familiar with it if that’s what you are asking but we have worshippers of every god you can name here nowadays. Pretty sure there’s even a few Whaid. They don’t cause any trouble so I leave them alone. And then there’s of

course the Immortals, one of them is pretty popular with the dwarves and then the rest that’s mostly Order worshippers, might be one of their saints or angels I don’t exactly keep track.” “You should have held that man accountable.”, she said in an almost scolding tone. “For what? Being desperate? Don’t know how to tell you that but if that was a serious crime half the people here would be in Prison by now.” “It is not right to just let them go however.” “So, what would you have done in my stead? Arrest him? Shoot him? For the audacity of not wishing to starve? It is

not my task to arrest or judge people that are just trying to get by. They are desperate, not evil. Not a threat. I am only here to make sure they remember to remain peaceful.” And if he was honest to himself, he would not have taken the job otherwise. It was… different enough from his previous work to not wake any dark memories. Maybe in a way even healing. At least, Shalinan had suggested as much when she first offered the task to him. Not that he had anything better to do. “You can’t let crime go unpunished.” “Can I not? Your emperor can apparently just forgive all my real and imagined transgressions. But I am supposed to

shoot a poor beggar is that how it works? I am not… important enough to just let people go?” “That was not my suggestion.” “Then what exactly was your suggestion?” He crossed his arms before his chest and just stopped where he was. “I can wait. You know I didn’t have to fire this gun once in all this time. How many people would I have shot by now if I took your suggestion? Most of them have very little to lose.” “Your annulment was not my preferred solution. I suggested to offer you a return to the Houseguard. If you cooperated. Lord Belfare… vetoed that approach. I think his exact words were

something around the line of trying to lure a rabbit with joining a pack of wolves.” “Not sure I like being compared to a rabbit, but do I need to tell you that would not have happened? Maybe all your reborn emperor really has is some basic common sense not magical foresight. And then what? How would that have gone? You killing me if I refuse?” “I… do not know.”, Olin admitted. “Perhaps you are right. Or perhaps… you are simply not the man I once knew.” “Good. Because I have been trying to get rid of him for a

while.”

Chapter 5 Shalina

The Vantat district was as majestic as any place under the Island could be. It was one of the largest caverns that made up Otrimonts underground city. Carved buildings, much more elegant and less haphazardly put together, spiralled around a large staircase along the walls up to the Islands top. Large Openings in the ceiling, sealed with stained glass let light fall in, painting the floor in a shifting pattern of colours depending on the time of day. Even at night when the moon was bright

enough, the windows could cast their designs onto the grey rock. Gigantic pillars supported the ceiling, once carved in the ornamental, heavy dwarven design that still dominated so many old structures in Otrimont. Here however they had been carefully replaced being maybe one of the few examples of actual Vantat art he could recall. Still geometrical but less strict then the dwarven design, less stern and cold, instead flowering into interlocking shapes painted by the reflected light. A strange collection of mandalas of shifting colours and forms. It had an oddly calming effect just following the flowing designs up with one’s eyes until

one could no longer make them out. It felt less like one was underground here, even if the actual islands rocky and bleak surface was still far above them. Actual plants thrived in the rare natural light, planters filled with flowers, small gardens sprouting between pathways… It was one of the few places in Otrimont that felt green. Open. The central Vantat district was even large and high enough he had seen small clouds forming at times, before it started raining, if but for a moment. Everything here was sized for the snake people instead of humans. The doorways of even the smaller homes were large enough even a bear Gejarn

would have fit through easily. Windows usually placed so high up, Cassian would have needed a step to look inside. Smaller huts and less elegant wooden lodgings crowded themselves under the sweeping supports of the large staircase, half hidden in the shadows. He could see a few Vantat milling about, some selling things out of market stalls, others taking care of more intensive work. He could hear the clanging of a blacksmiths hammer from behind one of the smaller huts, another snake was sweeping the steps in front of their home. It may look majestic and they certainly had put quite some effort into making this place their own but… well if one knew where to

look it was at the end of the day also just inhabited by the same ranks and classes of people one could find anywhere. It wasn’t a facade like the flying city a mere representative splendour with half its outlandish estates sitting empty most of the time but actually inhabited by its people. Perhaps a bit warmer than he was comfortable with though. The large windows allowed the sun to actually heat up the cave to the point he felt like he stepped into an imperial greenhouse. The heat dissipated along the surrounding tunnels but the Vantat preferred the almost sticky warmth of this place. Maybe another reason they didn’t

venture out of their own district in larger numbers. Cassian led them away from the main area and into a smaller side tunnel. While the buildings and living spaces here where obviously made with more care, improved over centuries of habitation, the glory of the main caves quickly disappeared from sight. Buildings and decorations were simpler or sometimes absent and the tunnels quickly became more crowded again, not only by Vantat but also the other resident species of Otrimont. Few ever entered the Vantat district proper. Not because they weren’t allowed to but because the heat and size of

everything made it generally unpleasant to navigate for anyone else. Maybe that was on purpose but then again, Cassian thought, the Vantat had been here alone for centuries. Not that you could go anywhere and avoid them anyway. The side tunnels were noticeably cooler with buildings less oversized. They stopped in front of a multi storied wooden building set into a carved-out alcove. Windows were glowing with the soft shine of candles and lanterns. Two sets of steps lead up to it over a shallow pond, water dripping from the ceiling and collecting in it. Strange translucent fish dodged aside as Cassians shadow fell over them as he climbed the first set

of stairs. “Let’s see if the boss is in.” Olin stayed at the bottom, sceptically viewing the sign over the entrance. “You are messing with me now. That’s a Bathhouse.” “And a massage parlour. Also got a Bar. It’s the only place in this town that imports varan ale. So, you know not all that bad.” “Seriously?” “I mean do you have any idea how many muscles a Vantat has that can cramp up? It’s not the worst business model if you charge per hour. They might offer a bit more occasionally though I never asked.” “Well, I think I am waiting out

here.” “I guess then you are also not learning anything are you?” “If this is your idea of a practical joke, I am not amused.” She finally followed him, though obviously not too happy. “Oh, come on don’t look at me like that. What was the name of that Gejarn you had a fling with back during the red pass campaign? Gorgeous girl. A bear, was it? Could break two people’s spines with each hand without even trying if I remember that day correctly.” At least that was a memory he could allow. They had all been so… hopeful in the beginning. “What ever happened to her?” “Didn’t make it out. Not many did in the

end. No one would have if it wasn’t for… well I guess you know that well enough.” He froze where he was. “I am… sorry.” “Unlike you she didn’t run.” So that’s what this was about he thought. Not that he could blame her for. For once. “And how did you survive?” “Have a guess.” Olin pushed past him and without even waiting for him and entered the building. Cassian sighed before he followed her. He could tell her, he thought. Explain what happened that day. But what would that do besides upset the fragile peace he had made with it. Olin wouldn’t care. Or

listen for that matter even if he tried. No. This was his to bear. And she would be gone soon enough. Just a painful little reminder of the past that he had to endure for now. He found Olin standing in a small reception area. As usual colourful carpets distracted from the gloom with some lanterns providing light in front of a very low register. Which of course was just right for its current occupant, a green Kobold with the broadest smile… and not much else to wear. The wizard was gesturing at it wildly. “No, I do not wish to make an appointment I am….” She turned to Cassian. “Explain to this… annoying

creature… why we are here. Before I set fire to something.” “Cassian?” The kobold made a small excited jump as it recognised him. “Does the loud women belong to you?” “Shras, she does, now stop messing with her and be a dear and tell the boss I need to talk to them, yes? I am assuming she is here? Definitely prefers this place over the council hall.” “You sure you want to bring the rude lady along?” “I am not rude I just have better things to do then talk to… what a goddamn whore?” Shras gave Cassian a look he could interpret without the needs for words.

Are you sure this is a good idea? No. No it wasn’t. But it wasn’t like he had any better option. He gave the Kobold a nod who scampered off past them and gave them a quick sign to follow. They were lead through a larger bar area, mostly empty at this time of day and then up a flight of stairs into what could pass as a dim study. A large table took up most of the room in front of one of the rare actual windows in this part of town, a small candle illuminating stacks of papers and a low bookshelf. Besides a few large tomes there was a collection of small odds and ends in the shelfs. A crystalline tooth of

something large that Cassian recognised as the hollow fangs of a minelurker. Though he had never seen one that close. The dwarfs and Vantat kept their population under strict control. Nobody wanted people to get eaten just for taking a wrong tunnel once. A knife under a glass cover. He had no idea what that was about. And a rock with weirdly symmetrical veins of some silverish mineral. It almost looked to Cassian more like an old gear or machinery fused to the stone. Mythril. Might be one of the last pieces out there, he thought. No one had mined that stuff since Helike had fallen. A bench and some cushions were placed

in front of the table an the shelfs and Cassian just let himself fall into one of them. Olin remained standing as the Kobold made an effort to leave then with a look at the wizard added: “Wait here.” Then they were gone again. Olin walked around the room, looked over the desk and the books on display. A particular tome seemed to have piqued her interest, a large leatherbound thing with gilded paged that had however obviously seen better days. She plucked it from the shelf and flipped through a few pages, seemingly to make sure the contents where what the cover said it was. Cassian wanted to warn her that Shalinan did not appreciate people

rifling through her things. Something she had a lot of. Small and larger artefacts from all over the Islands and beyond she had collected over almost a century. He glanced at the title of the book in Olins hands for a moment. “A complete History of the Ordeal Dynasty? What are you into old history now?” “Cassian… do you have any idea how many copies of this still exist? This was penned before the rise of the Belfare. Before the last Ordeal Emperors were even born. I know of two remaining examples in the entire empire, one is in Vara, the other in the Orders own Archives. How did this get here?” “Well guess there’s three copies then.

Shalinan likes her curiosities.” Maybe, he thought for a moment, that makes me one of them. Would explain why she keeps me around. “So… want to explain to me what’s going on here?” “If you tell me why you are here?” “I told you what I can. You on the other hand obviously didn’t.” He had half a mind to tell her that was not true but after before… “Fair enough. Its rather simple. You got an issue in this Town you go to Shalinan. She’s a Otrimont councillor but that doesn’t mean much. They have very little real power I think the last time the Council could make an actual unanimous decision

was… a decade ago when they first established a place for empire refugees. Dwarfs and Vantat don’t get along but they share council seats equally so… you can imagine how hard it is for them to agree on anything. So, some people started acting… outside its structure so to speak. Offer aid to people on their own terms.” “Sounds like exploitation to me.” “Ask me how I know it isn’t. Vantat are strange, Olin. But genuine. They are good people. Warmer than their scales suggest. Just… please try not to insult her, yes? I owe her. A lot.” “What, money? You didn’t get into debt, did

you?” “Again, not the kind of operation she’s running. You will understand. I… learned a bit from her you could say. Try to be polite, yes? She’s very fond of that.” He considered for a moment if he should warn her about Vantats and by extension Shalinans other… peculiarities. Maybe for the best if this was to end without someone getting set on fire. Before he could however, the door to the room opened again. The being that entered was a Vantat radiating an air of authority. Black scales covered her body, broken up by softer greyish ones outlining her belly, the underside of her arms and raising to

under her chin. Lager, purplish scales ran along her spine, though and spiked and giving her an almost dragon like appearance. Something not helped by the crown of short horns breaking through short kept blonde hair. The tip of each was ringed with gold, that shimmered and reflected the dim light. It was not a true crown of course. Otrimont had no formal rulers. But if there was one… Shalinan probably fit the bill as close as any being could lay claim to that title. Even if she would probably take great offense if Cassian ever told her that. “Cassian.” Her tone was warm as she entered and embraced him for a moment

without even waiting for a response. It was a gentle gesture. Warm, open. “My lady Councillor.” Cassian gave her a short nod, kept his army behind his back without recuperating the embrace. He cleared his throat. “Aren’t we formal today… So, what happened? It’s not like you to just appear here in the middle of the day.” “For once, nothing concerning me, I promise.” She crossed her arms before her chest, repressing a laugh. “Somehow I doubt that.” Yellow eyes with slit pupils fixated first on him then finally seemed to notice Olin. If Shalinan was surprised to not

find him alone, she did at least not show it. Like most other Vantat, her dress was elaborate but where their standard fashion was already a thing of beauty, hers was worthy of a king. Regal instead of simply elegant. A long black dress that seemed to flow with every movement, letting the red secondary fabric layer underneath flash through cut-outs. More gold shimmered in the light, heavy bracelets and a chain around her neck that held a single large red gemstone. The tail trailing behind her figure was long, almost taking up half the space in the room and ended in a sharp gilded blade. More for show then that she ever had to actually use it.

Yet. Shalinan glanced at Olin. Especially her robes. “So… who is the Order Mage and why have you brought her here?” “An old friend. I hope she won’t mean trouble.” “We will see about that.” Her tone had noticeably cooled from the warm introduction. Had become almost as formal as his. “My Name is Olin. Highmage of the Sanguis Order. And personal envoy of Emperor Simon Belfare. Since I was assured, it was important to get your blessings for this, I hereby demand immediate assistance in our investigation into Otrimonts possible infiltration by

someone working with the local smugglers. I will need to know anything about them. Where they are, how many and how soon I can talk to one. “ If Olin noticed that Shalinans expression became increasingly darker with each word she spoke, she didn’t pay it any attention at least. Not until the Vantat finally interrupted her. “Your emperor last I checked is not here. “ Her tone remained cordial. But the warning undertone was hard to ignore. “And even if he was, I would tell him the same thing I will tell you. I do not look to kindly on people from outside trying to interfere with Otrimont. We have always stood independent. If

the…imperial envoy…needs a reminder of that.” “There are questions…” “That I am sure are very important, yes. If you tell me what they are I may be much more inclined to let a servant of the empire run around my home and ask them.” Both eyed each other with obvious suspicion but none of them moved. At least not yet. Shalinans tail twitched, the bladed end shimmering. This was going about as well as he had feared. Cassian coughed audibly. “Now I think my friend here did not mean any offense. What she wanted to say is simply this. Got any issue with me taking a look at

the smuggler tunnels. I promise I am not going to mess with their business. Neither will she I guarantee for that. I know you don’t like that. We only want to see what they are up to. Then Olin here will leave. Wont she?” “If the answers are…” He kicked her in the shins. “Yes. I will have to make my report to the emperor immediately.” “Is that so. You wouldn’t let her lie to me Cassian, would you my dear?” Her tail came up under his chin, wandered around his neck. He was suddenly all too aware of the knife on its end. Still the gesture was almost… caring. If one ignored how it looked from the outside. He was not in danger. Not from her.

But… Olin didn’t know that. And Shalinan seemed to almost count on that. Create a show for the mage. It worked on most people. It wouldn’t on Olin. He decided he would not indulge her. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare, my lady. But I fear it is important.” Cassian pushed the blade away with one finger. “You know I just can’t say no to you.” Her attitude seemed to shift from one moment to the other. She slithered past them to the other side of the desk, folding her tail under herself to create a chair out of her own coils. “But your companion could at least sit down. That would be polite, yes?” Cassian was half convinced it wouldn’t

work. To his surprise however, Olin actually sat down on one of the cushions. “I suppose I can do that much.” She sounded confused for a second as if ready to just get back up immediately. She shook her head as if trying to get rid of a buzzing insect. Then her eyes narrowed. Her fingers clenched on the fabric. “Alrigth. You had your fun big snake. But just so we are clear.” Olin slowly stood back up again. “You try this again I am killing you.” “I have to apologies. I did mean no offense.” Shalinan folded her hands and leaned back, seemingly unimpressed by the threat. “You can’t blame a snake for trying however. Not if an order mage

shows up at her doorstep unannounced.” “What exactly did she just do to me, Cassian? One moment I am standing, the next I have to desire to just sit down… because she asked.” “. You haven’t spent much time around Vantat I guess? Ever noticed how people tend to be a bit more… relaxed around them? I guess suggestion plays a part into that though none of them could ever fully explain to me how it works. Makes you more open for just accepting what they might say. It’s not literal magic or at least I think it isn’t. Can’t make someone jump of a cliff for example. But if you have a two stubborn silverlords sitting on both ends of a table that know

a peace deal offered is good… but they both believe they could squeeze out more of their rival well… the word of a Vantat may just be a tie breaker. It seems to become stronger with age. Shalinan here is… almost a century old.” “And you had to tell her that of course.” The Vantat didn’t sound too pleased being reminded about her age. “Not like that bothers me.” Cassian replied. “You can be glad I actually like you.” The Vantat focused back on the Wizard. Olin herself seemed more unhappy with him now. “If you knew of this, you could have warned me.” “Could have. But I didn’t. I trusted she’s

not doing anything… too nefarious. If it would even work on you.” “I will require a full report on the effects.” Olin had her notebook out before any of them even noticed. “This could proof… very useful if only I could spare the time to study it fully. Is this something magical? A skill that’s learned? Or just something that naturally develops in Vantat? “Great… she’s going to ask questions all day now.” “By Sandas Name… are all your old friends like this, Cassian? I don’t think I will entertain them however.” “You wouldn’t mind trying that on Cassian so I can study

it?” Shalinan seemed surprised the mage was more curious then mad now. Cassian only laughed. “I fear that is not going to happen. Not claiming I am immune to it by now but… it usually doesn’t work if you aware it is happening you know? Its suggestion not mind control. It can’t make you jump off a cliff or do anything you wouldn’t otherwise do.” “Concerning power none the less. Especially in hands as this. Tell me Cassian… how do you know you are not simply manipulated right now?” “Oh … she tried.” “And you still… trust

her?” “As I said… I trust she’s at least not using it for anything I wouldn’t approve of. What you want Shalinan to ask me to shoot you?” “No, you might actually do that… by the gods you actually do like her.” “Unlike our dear recently departed sovereign she’s not out to burn down the world but keep the peace here. I can respect that. To get back to the topic at hand…” Shalinan sighed. “In Sandas Name… As long as you make sure your… overenthusiastic friend doesn’t interfere with their work you have my blessing to do whatever you deem necessary. But I

expect to be kept informed if you should actually find something concerning.” “That is fair. Right Olin? Very fair.” “I suppose…” She did not sound happy but as long as she was leaving it as that Cassian hoped they would actually get this over without any unnecessary bloodshed. “Just one thing I don’t understand. You are a councilor of Otrimont. Why are you protecting these people?” “Why would I not? They provide a service. One this city needs, now more than ever. And for a cut the council is more than happy to look the other way. They don’t smuggle things out from this island, they bring things in. As it stands,

they are not a threat and instead keep goods and services available even to the people that came her with nothing but the clothes on their bodies. We are making enough money from this to pay a king’s ransom twice over. But bringing in things outside the… official taxed routes like grain from Finis or goods from the empire proper means they can be made available cheaper while still ending up with a profit. Otrimont is in a crisis. Its population almost doubled with imperial refugees. And even some Whaid and other people that have found their way here. It is not easy to keep everyone here… calm and reasonable if you understand. Even before that the

dwarfs were just looking for a reason to start a fight. Their grumbling hasn’t exactly gotten less intense. I will not let this city end in flames with everyone fighting each other for scraps. That is my primary duty as councilor. To keep everything balanced enough it doesn’t collapse. If I have to overlook some petty crimes to achieve that I will.” “And I am sure the smugglers are all too happy to take advantage of that desperation.” “I want to see them try. Don’t misunderstand me. This is not a charity. It is necessity. But if I see someone actually take advantage of that… Nothing some kind words can’t address if

you catch my meaning.” “Great. A bunch of mentally enchained smugglers. What kind of city even is this?” “One that runs perfectly well without someone rattling off regulations and laws and decrees.” , Cassian replied. “And you are supposed to somehow… bring order into a place like that?” She looked between Cassian and Shalinan. The Vantat laughed. It was a strange sound, genuine but harsh a deep rumbling sound that didn’t seem to fit with her elegant form. “Freedom and Order are not opposite sides of a scale. They sit on the same tray. Violence, not simple chaos, is the other side of it. The

thing that must not tip over. Some things must be allowed to just develop as they will. My objective in this city is not to rule it… but to keep it stable. And it is better that way. There are people who tried to run Otrimont as if it was their personal fiefdom. Dwarves and Vantat alike. They did not find much success. Any direct change will be opposed by either dwarf too stubborn to accept it or Vantat too afraid it may harm their fragile order. And it is fragile. You may know them as diplomats and caretakers… but the truth is their very own nature is quite the opposite of that and they are afraid of having to fall back on it in conflict. I am neither of these things.

But I see the need for balance either way. The only way to rule Otrimont… is to not appear to do so. To have the people themselves believe they wanted and embraced any change you make. To make your influence… unnoticeable and indirect. The smugglers are a tool for exactly that. Could the council impose price limitations on important goods? If they ever could agree on it sure. But why do that when you can just have the people do that by themselves without the need for a single word to be spoken in the council halls.” “I care not for your order. I have my own task here.” “And you shall see to it. As long as you

do not harm… my order as you call it. The sooner the better. The last thing I need is another unknown factor to deal with. Imperial involvement will only make things harder to control in the long term. Even if people just think your presence here may be the prelude to an invasion by the empire…” “I assure you it is not.” Olins seemed almost offended. Not that Cassian could blame the Vantat for bringing it up. Otrimont was a key location in the western islands. A fortress. In a central position. That had so far preserved its neutrality from dragons, silverlords, free legion and the empire no matter the turmoil of the past decades. It was a…

tempting price. If not one that could be taken easily even in its current, diminished state. “Even if I were young enough to just believe that, reality, Wizard, does not matter. What matters is what people will believe your presence here means. So don’t take it personally when I say that the sooner you disappear again… the better. If expediting that means having you talk to some of the smugglers, so be it. Do what you have to. And fast.” “I don’t exactly feel I should thank you for that but… your cooperation will be positively noted in my report.” Shalinan sighed and it just sounded exhausted now. “Now if you could…

leave. Before I regret this.” Olin simply nodded, happy to have gotten what she came here for and got up. Cassian made an attempt to follow her. “Not you. We need to talk.” He stopped at the door. “I knew this was coming. “ Olins face expressed a simple question she did not voice. In how much trouble are you and should I help? Though the last thing he needed right now was her involving herself further in this. “It’s going to be fine.”, he simply said. “Wait outside. This won’t take long.”

Chapter 6 Past

Schreib mir was!

Chapter 7 Talks

“Cassian? Are you… all right?” Shalinans voice was soft, especially compared to how she had spoken with Olin still present. It brought him slowly back from his own adrift memories and thoughts. It always managed to. He couldn’t say why. Maybe Olin was right in a way. Her influence was undeniable but… maybe that was a small price to pay. His hand was still slow to let go of the blade he had been clutching without noticing. The memory had been but a

moment. It faded again. Slowly. He forced it back down. He had managed to reclaim that much of his own life he would not allow himself to become lost to the past. Not again. Words failed him for a moment. His throat felt dry and the world still too distant. Reality and memory still refusing to let go of each other. “Could use a drink.”, he finally managed to say. At least it hadn’t been one of the worse ones, he thought. Though in other aspects… maybe it was the worst memory of all. They had been… so hopeful. And foolish. Him most of all. Maybe… he still was, Cassian thought as he watched the snake open a small

cabinet and poured water from a silver decanter into a glass. Then a second one for herself. Too… familiar he thought as she held the glass out to him. He took it. Maybe… he should have also taken the wine. “Not what I would have preferred.” He was thankful none the less, drank slowly. It was cold enough to hurt his teeth. “Well, you aren’t getting anything else. Spend your own coin.” “I… guess I am trying to limit that a bit.” “And how is that working out?” It didn’t sound judging, just genuinely interested. Or concerned. “If you would have asked me that

yesterday I would have said good…” And it wouldn’t have even been a complete lie. “Now however…” “Now it isn’t that easy? And I assume that has nothing to do with the impolite wizard you brought along?” “Shes… an old friend. No. Not sure if that is even the right word anymore. You know who I was. What I was. I struggle still to leave that behind me. So, her being here is… not easy. I didn’t expect to see anyone from my old life ever again. Almost killed her when I saw her.” “You?”Shalinan didn’t sound like she believed him but then again… what she knew of him was at best rough details and at worst a broken shell of the man he

once had been. The one that would not have hesitated putting a knife into Olins throat without losing sleep over it. “Me. I learned to be more then a weapon here. But I don’t think Olin of all people will be someone that can appreciate that. No. If this goes anything like… her usual approach she would have me slip back into the role I once held. And I don’t think there will be any going back from that. I…” He moved his fingers as if he could somehow shake the ghostly impression still haunting them. The grip of same blade he was wearing now, but not yet dulled by years. “All the more reason to get this behind me. The sooner she leaves again the

better” “And you are sure you want to do this?” Once again, the stately appearance seemed to have almost fallen off of her in an instant the moment Olin had left. “She can’t force you to work for with her. If she tries…I am here.” “I… do not want any harm to come to this place. Or to her for that matter. If she is here there got to be something important going on. Even if I think there’s little here that could be a threat to Olin. She can take care of herself. Just… gets carried away with that sometimes. And I know your people hate having to resort to actual violence.” “If we throw away our principles at the

first hint of trouble, what are they even worth?” “You are asking the wrong man, Shalinan. The last man with principles I knew… let’s just say they did not survive him in the end.” “Ours are not as weak as yours. At least I like to hope so.” “Believe me he was anything but weak. Even at the end. Just… scared.” “That may be the difference then. I do not allow myself to be fearful. That is a mistake too many of my own people make. We are not just careful with our own strength… but deny it exists. They may tell you even the little I do may destroy our ways. That it may… lead to

my fall. That I endanger myself. Fools. Someone has to. This is no longer just our Island where letting things run their course without any influence may have worked. I will however not let this stain our honour or the way we have lived for centuries.” “In what way could you helping the people here be… dangerous to you?” “I get too involved. I say I want to keep this city in balance. It is… difficult to remain so myself. It is something my people fear. That haunts us. There are those among us like me who see only one way to preserve peace in this city and it is to push the boundaries of doctrine. And then there are those who warn we

risk losing something a lot more important than just this city if we do. Our very souls. I cannot argue they are necessarily wrong... but I also see no other way. We used to be… a very different people once. Centuries ago. Before the lessons of Sanda and the great reformers. But I assume you know that by now.” “I know I can understand the desire to act rather then slowly watch the world crumble, my lady.” To not be like him at the end. Better to make a choice and stick to it. “I cannot say that it is a easy choice to make however.” “I guess… you are yourself more similar to the Vantat then you know in that

regard.” “I fear I am nothing like you, my lady.” “Maybe. And maybe you still understand less about us then you think. So… simply believe me if you would. Being peaceful does not mean being passive, that’s called being afraid. And you are afraid of a great many things. That is why I asked you to go out into the refugee district. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice things improved with you active there?” “It… did.” He only had to think back to the confrontation this morning. If he hadn’t been around that could have ended… horrible. “And I didn’t have to kill anyone for it yet.” “Good. I expected nothing less from you.

To do what’s necessary to keep this island save. I haven’t just chosen you to get you back on your feet. Though I admit that was part of it.” Cassian sighed. “So, you would want me to be a weapon too then?” “No.” She slithered around the table and sat down on one of the pillows. Then made a gesture inviting Cassian to sit down. He hesitated for a moment then slowly did so as well. She took one of his hands, carefully, as if it was made out of glass or some animal that may bite her. “ I want you to take some responsibility back. Because you are afraid you will not be able to deal with it ever again. And yet… knowing who you

are can you truly live without that? Or just slowly waste away here?” “You know Olin may agree with you there probably. Even if she wouldn’t phrase it so… kind.” “You needed and still need aid. And we deny that to no one here. I made sure of that. All I ask in return is that this place… remains safe for those like you. Like them. The people that come here seeking refuge. And I ask you if you can play that part. I prefer you keep it peaceful… but if there is no other way… if this mage truly is on to something that may threaten this city… then I expect you to defend yourself. Can you do that much? Because I would hate to lose

you.” “I don’t like the idea of having to.” “Neither do I. I abhor asking this of you. But sometimes you have to use workarounds where necessary to… not risk your own soul in the process. You would be one of those. I want to settle this without violence, if at all possible. Appearances, Cassian. It’s all we are in the end. Having someone around who can look scary is sometimes all that’s needed. I counted on that for the refugee district and it worked. Might do so here too. But that’s not what I asked is it?” “I will.” “Good.” “Do you remember our first

meeting?” “I think very few people could forget being stopped by a giant snake in the streets when they had rarely seen a Vantat before.” He hadn’t been in Otrimont long back then. Fresh from the Mainland. Scarred as everyone else. Maybe worse. And not expecting to be met with any kindness or compassion. “You said I looked like a man haunted by something. Not that isn’t true for most people here.” “Most people aren’t wearing a ragged houseguard uniform. Let’s just say I keep an eye on who arrives in this city. And you looked like potential trouble. I am glad I was wrong about that. Has your

answer changed?” “Not since that day.” Haunted yes. By an empty grave in a crypt of familiar names and faces. “But it’s becoming more bearable.” “You never told me what really brought you here. Will you now?” The impulse to do so was there for a moment. Not entirely of himself. The subtle influence of a Vantat was there. But also, his own wish to maybe just… do so. He fought it back down. “One day. When I am ready. If I will ever be. Until then I’d appreciate you don’t try to force it.” “My apologies. You have to forgive an old snake for being nosy. Still…always

fascinated by that.” “By what?” “How you just ignore any Vantat influence. The mage I understand. But you? Is that houseguard drill or are you just particularly mistrusting?” “I… wouldn’t call myself distrusting.” But his past and all it brought with it was his to come to terms with. Even if it made attempts to catch up to him. One day he may be able to tell Shalinan. Olin however, never. She had been there and yet still wouldn’t understand what happened, of that Cassian was sure. “But this all is… my problem. Something I have let fester for too long and I will have to see it

through.” And it would remain so. As much as he may try to put it as far away as he could…the houseguard made sure its soldiers knew how to deal with mages. Your average order mage couldn’t actually read minds, even if the common people often believed the opposite but… they could get very creative in other ways to get into people’s heads. Something they had been prepared for. In praxis. A nice voice in your head asking you to just trust the giant snake with anything was downright relaxing by comparison. “Well, I trust your judgement in that. Just… let me know if you find anything

concerning, yes?” “I will… and I should really not let Olin wait any longer.” Not that he looked forward to that. She would ask what kept him and he had little interest in explaining himself. The day wasn’t that old yet and he already felt tired. Part of that was maybe age but not most of it. Despite what he said he felt like he was close to falling off a cliff. Maybe… that’s what Shalinan meant when she said he was closer to a Vantat then he realized. Maybe… that’s what she felt like too. Better to get it over with at least. He made an effort to get up but found his attempt thwarted by a large tail gently but firmly shoving him back into

his seat. “She can wait a moment longer.” “I would rather not find out if that’s true.” “No but you obviously need a break, Cassian. Still remember what I thought you? Kept up with it?” “The meditations?... Can’t say I have.” He had tried. Honestly tried. But even on the best days his mind refused to be anything close to quiet. If at all it had made him feel stupid sitting in an almost empty room… doing nothing. Drinking was easier. At least that worked without him having to do anything then throw a coin at one of Talamons Kobolds now and

then. Shalinan didn’t let that count however. She took his hands again, both of them this time. “Five Minutes. Close your eyes and I don’t want to hear a word for that time.” Cassian knew better than trying to argue with a Vantat. Her in particular. If she said he wasn’t going he wasn’t. That much time he could probably spare. He simply did as he was asked. Not that it helped. But it wouldn’t hurt either. He just needed… something else to focus on then the mage waiting to drag him into knew the immortals what. Not that there was much else. Normally he did his rounds in

the district then returned to Talamons little hole in the wall or on the rare occasions he couldn’t spent some time around the market areas. Vegetables and anything fresh were always in high demand and if you wanted to get a hold of something imported it was better to get to the merchants early. A soft touch on the back of his hand ended that chain of thought. Shalinans thumbs rubbing over his skin. Vantat scales were smooth and despite their generally cooler body temperature… not unpleasant to the touch. Something that had surprised him at first. Maybe, he thought for a moment, she needed this more than him

even. At least it was something less dreary to focus on. No need to think about it. Cassian wasn’t sure if that was how it was supposed to work but… it helped, he had to admit. He felt himself calm down, the dread falling away at least for the moment. Instead, he found himself in that weird mindset of being awake but pleasantly absent that he associated with long patrols or a night out on watch duty where nothing was happening, tired enough the mind didn’t wander but focused enough he didn’t risk falling asleep. “See, that wasn’t so bad?” the hands were withdrawn and he almost felt

robbed as he slowly opened his eyes again. Too short. But in a way she had been right. She usually was. He stood up, shouldered his rifle again… then stopped at the door. Shalinan remained seated on the floor. “I will let you know if we find anything concerning.” “I am counting on it. Now off with you and don’t let that mage burn down my city.” “I will do my best milady.”

Chapter 8 Snake Saints

Olin was obviously impatient; he could tell by the way she tapped her feet the moment he stepped back outside. She had sat down on the shores of the small pool and had been writing in that notebook of hers again. Probably nothing too flattering if it was to serve as a report, one hand clutching a small amber amulet around her neck. He had rarely seen her wear jewelry. Of course, this was not mere decoration but a symbol of authority for all who knew what to look for. Amber has served as a

sigil of rank for as long as the empire had existed. It was in their coins, in insignia, set into the weapons and armor of high-ranking officials and officers. “That took long enough.” She got up immediately and dusted of her robes, though there was no visible stain on them. “What was that snake coming on to you or what happened back there?” Cassian’s face darkened with a simple realisation. “You have been listening in.” “Of course, I have been listening in. Its my duty to be aware of what’s happening in this town.” “I do not appreciate being spied on, Olin.” “Yes. Spying. That’s what I was doing.

Not being concerned about leaving you alone with a giant snake that had a knife at your throat.” Maybe he should tell Olin that had been more of a show for her then him. Her worries were unfounded given the nature of most Vantat but… “Trust me, Vantat are… not dangerous despite what they may appear at first glance. But you really were concerned for me?” “Well, I was also being kept out intentionally. So of course, I had to know. An opportunity to get some more information. Your Councillor hasn’t been all that… cooperative with me around.” In fact, Cassian thought, Shalinan had

been nothing but cooperative but of course for Olin anything that wasn’t enthusiastic support was grounds for suspicion. “So it was spying after all. And here I was worried for a moment you had developed a twisted sense of care. Now that… would be truly scary. But what I have to talk about with a friend, Olin, is none of your concern.” “Everything is my concern.” He sighed. “Which is the problem. No time to wait around her. We have permission which is all I wanted.” And someone in the know he could trust if things went sideways. “So… you ready to ask some

questions?” “Have been since I arrived her.”, the mage simply replied. “You know where to go?” “Approximately.” , he simply replied as he walked past her. He didn’t make sure she was even following.” The inhabitation of the tunnels shifts but… they usually hang around the caves closest to the island’s costs. You are bound to run into someone. We aren’t going too deep. Not only do the Vantat not like people snooping around Otrimonts depths but the rock further down is full of more… nasty inhabitants.” “Worse than a potentially on edge and

armed smuggler?” “Much worse. Enough Minelurkers some tunnels have been entirely sealed off and other less… chatty dangers. Some of them breached the outer tunnels a while ago. It was…a hectic couple of days to drive them back into the depths. No matter how many the dwarfs or smugglers kill… there always seem to be more. There’s a reason the Vantat don’t outright ban anyone from exploring the abandoned sections of Otrimont… but will warn against it. I can imagine better ways to die than being overwhelmed by a hoard of giant leech monster and have your blood drained. Nothing down there that’s worth it. Doesn’t stop the dwarfs

mind you. If at all if a Vantat says not to do something that seems to be all the more reason for them to try. Of course, they will still tell you it isn’t actually the very real monsters they keep disturbing that are the reason for their lost mining expeditions. But it’s got to be the Vantat somehow sabotaging their reclamation efforts. Last I checked Vantat don’t leave behind a crumbling hull of a person.” “They don’t get along then.” “Putting it mildly. You will… see if you stay long enough.” They made their way back to the central plaza of the Vantat district and then further into another side tunnel where the carefully carved

structures and houses gave way to more simple construction again. Roughly hewn caves or natural outcroppings reinforced with wood and lose stone to create something resembling homes. “Shalinan mentioned a name back there. Sanda I believe? Who is that? You told me she was running the city.” “She is. I am pretty sure some old scales and bones are not running anything anymore even if you better don’t tell that to her face. Sanda the Speaker. Or I guess by their full title Sanda Anqt. The first of their great reformers. His tomb is somewhere under that central square. I have never been there myself. I am sure they would let me in but… why push it.

It would be like a stranger asking to enter the imperial crypts in the flying city. Why would someone?” “Reformer?” “Guess they haven’t always been like they are today. The four great reformers are what they see as the origin of their new society if you will. Sanda, Renen, Caris and Laine Anqt.No idea if those were women or men. Don’t think anyone ever addresses them as either. Might be intentional.” “All with the same last name?” “Its not a name it’s a title. Someone important to their culture. Their lives recorded and studied to serve as examples to follow. Probably butchering

how a Vantat would pronounce it.” He tried again making it sound less like a word and more like a weirdly pronounced hiss. “I haven’t picked up on much Vantat its… hard for humans to speak or even hear properly so they avoid using it around anyone that isn’t their own. Anqt translates to something like saint. Or teacher. Or close to it. I don’t think there is a direct parallel in imperial common or administrative language. The reformers are what created the basis of their new society. Pillars like pacifism, patience, openness, the forgoing of violence in favour of speech and a drive to gentleness and forgiveness. Things like that. Shalinan could probably tell

you more if you are interested.” “So, you got your… weird new demeanour from the snakes then?” “In a sense.” How could he possibly explain to her how much just… being here had done to help him. How much the Vantat but simply this place had changed him. Helped him to find even a shred of peace after the disaster on the mainland. How much Shalinan had. There was nothing else going ion between them but… how could he ever explain to someone like Olin that he… had embraced that very thing she called weird. Not to the extend the Vantat themselves did of course. They clung to their principles almost religiously. But to

just have something like this to believe in again after everything that had happened. To think that an open hand could change this much after a life where the answer to everything had always been carnage… He simply decided to not try. “It is a peaceful place and they are a peaceful people.” “So that’s why this whole city feels so… off. Shame. We could have needed their help on the mainland if we could ever enlist some more of them, I have only once seen a Vantat on the battlefield. It is quite a sight. But I guess I will have to report back that we are dealing with an island of very… kind

monsters.” “You have no idea.” At least he didn’t have to try to talk her out of that hairbrained idea. “The one you saw was likely one of their rare outcasts. Its not like Vantat Warriors don’t exist but they are… on a different path from the rest of their species. It happens but is usually very rare. Vantat that embrace the need for occasional violence and focus more on not being consumed by it rather then avoiding it wherever possible. Even then they are not without control. Trust me, if you ever witnessed a truly out of control Vantat you would immediately know. They are not cast out but…. They usually will leave on their own. And everyone is

probably better off for it.” The tunnel in front of them split. One way let further down the inhabited section, more homes lining the walls and lanterns providing sporadic light. The other way was less developed, an open cave mouth looking more like a natural occurrence instead of a carved tunnel. A few lanterns were placed at the entrance but beyond that outside the small circle of light they provided, was only darkness. Cassian gave a single Vantat standing not too far a short nod. A Guard, even if she tried her best not to appear as such. Not all entrances away from Otrimonts inhabited sections were protected but

usually there would be someone keeping an eye on them. Not to outright stop anyone but to at least offer a warning or keep a record of if anyone entering… also left again. And while it was rare, one never knew if a Minelurker or two didn’t make their way up here. They could be almost eerily silent if need be A single Vantat was more than enough to keep the entrance secure if necessary. As far as he was aware they didn’t even like fighting animals but given the cramped conditions could hold a passage way almost indefinitely. The obvious scars along the guard’s body spoke volumes to that. Most were needle like bite marks. He knew all too well from what even if

he had so far avoided making any close acquaintance with any crystalline teeth. She wasn’t armed, at least not visibly but then again did a giant snake really need a weapon to defend itself? The Vantat made no attempt to stop them as Cassian pulled the lantern from his belt and lit it up. Just gave him a quick nod and the mage at his side a longer, concerned look. Shalinan would probably know which tunnel they had taken before the hour was over. And probably send someone to look for them if they took too long. “Doesn’t seem like anyone been through here in ages.” Olin noted, “What you expected welcome signs and a

guide?” Cassian stepped through the entrance area and held the lantern up. The Walls here were raw, untouched by chisels just a natural cave that had become part of the larger structure that made up the endless network of old mines and tunnels around Otrimont. Further along it would obviously run into some older mineshaft or other. Maybe even loop back into a inhabited section. It was a labyrinth. Another reason only few people ever entered without a good reason to do so. He picked up a rock and made a small mark at the wall next to the entrance. Similar symbols already lined the rock there. Some old and faded, others fresher. Some were initials, other

symbols and others again just a simple mark like his. A long scratch with an arrow pointing forward. It was about the only way to keep oriented down here. “But as you can see, we aren’t the first ones here. Some of these belong to some smuggler organisation or another. Others I think are dwarven house symbols. Might not even be by the current dwarfs here who knows some of these could go back all the way to the cities founding.” Olin still made no attempt to follow him. “You aren’t afraid of the dark, are you?” As if to respond she snipped her fingers, prompting a large glowing light to appear above them. It was so bright it blinded him for a moment. Then dimmed

down into a soft orb of white light that cast rainbow lined shadows across the rock. The air seemed to grow heavier for a moment as the spell fully manifested, then returned to normal. “I don’t need to be.”, Olin simply replied before stepping past him and into the tunnels. He followed silently. At least he didn’t have to worry about running out of fuel for the lantern.

Chapter 9 Into the dark

Cassian scratched another arrow into the rock as they reached the first junction. Three tunnels split off into different directions. One lead upwards at a steep angle, maybe all the way up to the Islands bleak surface. The other two ran almost vertical one left and one right. “This one.” He pointed towards the leftwards one. “It should lead closer to the sea. The smugglers like using smaller coves as their hideouts. Makes transporting goods in easier. The nearer we get to the coast, the more likely we are to run into

someone.” “Good. I have wasted enough time.” About the answer he had expected, thought Cassian. “Just please let me do the talking.” At least then there was the chance of this not instantly turning into a shootout. The mageligth cast eerily sharp, colorful shadows along the walls and cracks in the stone. The way they followed went downward for a bit, small puddles of water had collected in impressions in the rock here and there, dripping from further above their heads where the ceiling formed teeth like stalactites. It was like walking into the open mouth of some enormous creature. Each of their

steps echoed long, the silence besides that stretching seemingly endlessly. “The free Legion has an Archon now again.”, Cassian finally said, more so to break the quiet and to say anything at all. It didn’t fail to perk Olins interest. Information was at the end of the day her lifeblood. Even some rumor he snatched up between a round of drinks at the harbor. “Didn’t think there were any of the golden blooded bastards still alive. Where have they been hiding a living Archon all these years? So, they may return to the mainland then?” “ I do not know for sure but almost every legionnaire not currently on a mission

has been recalled to Lisembira in the past months. Let’s hope not. The continent has seen enough chaos. No reason for them to make it worse.” “They would make it worse for our enemies.” “Your enemies, Olin. I am… done with this.” “You and everyone else who came here apparently. Don’t think I didn’t notice them all still clinging to imperial regalia as if it meant something when they hide out on this rock instead of being back home. Fighting.” “They have given what they can, Olin. Not wanting to die for a lost empire doesn’t make them traitors. Or cowards.

Some of them have nothing left. They didn’t make the decision to come here because it’s the easier one. But because it’s the only one they could still make. And you would tell them it wasn’t enough?” “If they truly had done all they can, then we may not be in this mess.” Her voice had turned sharper, almost cutting. The light in her hand pulsed and flickered for a second. “Are we still talking about them… or me?” “This is… not personal.” The simple fact she had to almost spit the words out told him how true that was. “Feels personal. Is that the reason the

emperor sent you? Because you knew me before… this?” “No.” She obviously hoped to end the conversation with that. Well, though luck, Cassian thought. They were far away from everyone and all he had to pass the time was ask question. “Okay. Then I have to ask why else?” He tried to not sound confrontative. Tried. It came out much more mocking then intended. “Because I may notice things someone else may not. And that’s all there is.”, she snapped back. “And if you do… what then?” “It will be taken care of.” “And if you can’t… which would mean I

probably can’t either…” “I can…” Olin hesitated, touched the small amber amulet around her neck for a moment. “There is backup should I need it. Actual reliable aid” Cassian decided to ignore the veiled insult in the last words. “I am sure the Vantat will be thrilled about an imperial Invasion.” “They will be thrilled if I save their pacifist hides. They better all be.” Cassian wasn’t sure how to explain to her this wouldn’t be the case without starting another argument. Maybe it was better to not even try. This all had started because he couldn’t stand the silence but in hindsight that may have

been the better option. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a cold shudder. Olin had always been an intense person. Even all those years ago. But not like this. Not… cruel or cold. Could the years really change a person that much? Then again… he probably was an equal disappointment. The Cassian she knew had been an utterly loyal soldier. Someone who did what was asked without question. Not… a shell of a man that barely managed to get out of bed and would rather let someone run then resort to any violence. The tunnel they followed became more level again and widened into a small grotto. Dim light shone through cracks in

the rock and the breaking of the waves outside became audible. Seaspray filled the fresh air seeping in. Some of the openings were small, others larger opening to the rocks shore and the grey ocean beyond. It wasn’t exactly a safe harbor but exactly the kind of place you would be looking for if trying to get something into this city unnoticed. At least as long as you could risk bringing it in in a small boat and someone was willing to climb the rocks outside. Multiple tunnels and small caves led away from the open cave. Some disappeared in the dark. Others were dead ends, filled with driftwood swept in at high tide and some broken crates. An

empty place at least it appeared as such at first. Cassian noticed a lamp left on one of the broken crates and touched it. Still warm. He slowly led the shotgun slide from his shoulders and looked around. It wasn’t hard for anyone just to disappear into the maze of tunnels. And he and Olin hadn’t exactly tried to be sneaky about this. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. “Anyone here?” He led the shotgun slide from his shoulder. Then slowly, carefully placed it on the ground. “I am one of Shalinans men.” “What are you doing?” Olin watched with a look of confusion and

horror. “Its called not being a treat. Might want to try that sometime.” He took a step back. Still not far enough he didn’t know he could reach the weapon again. It was a kobold that emerged first, scuttling out of one of the side tunnels… then quickly back as a loud voice barked. “Oy, will you get back here this instance you goddamn lizard brain.” The owner of the voice followed a scrawny man in well-worn clothes and a rusted musket over his shoulder. Another figure appeared on a ledge in the rock, a burly woman with a knife in her belt and a large barrel of something over her shoulder. Probably grabbed when they

heard someone approach. Then a Gejarn in what would count for almost extravagant clothing for the refugee district. A large black cat of some kind. His tail swishing in the dirt. Three more followed. Olin gave each a quick glance before whispering: “There’s at least three more still hiding. Can feel them.” “Cant exactly blame them for being nervous. They know the color of these robes.” Cassian made a step towards the first, thin man. “Shalinan send us a mage?” , he asked seemingly still cautious. “I aint messing with her… collection but that’s a first. You don’t mean any trouble, do

you?” “She doesn’t. Right Olin?” She didn’t answer the question and instead just replied: “I am looking for the answer to some questions. Then I am more then happy to leave you to this… hole.” “Not like I am living here.”, the man replied. “But you should see it with a full shipment. All we got currently is a few barrels of that dwarven booze.” “I am assuming that goes to Talamon?” “Who else but him.” The man smiled now, relaxed by the mention of the familiar name. “Most loyal customer we ever had.” His gaze wandered to Olin and became again decidedly less warm.

“Normally I’d say fuck off but if Shalinan send you here she has a good reason. I am not getting on that snake’s bad side. So, no idea what an order mage wants with a bunch of smugglers but tell me what you are here for and I can probably arrange something.” “I am looking for something very specific. You would have recognized it if you saw it.” “Lady I am no mind reader you will have to be a bit more detailed than that. Everything here is specific. If I didn’t have a customer for it, I wouldn’t bring it in.” “The item I am after probably takes the form of a large gem. Glowing. About half

my size. Seen anything like that recently?” Cassian furled his brow. What she was describing didn’t ring a bell. Which didn’t make things less confusing. What was she after exactly? This was the first time she even mentioned it was an object she was after not just information. “Sister even if I had any idea what you are talking about… no. We aren’t dealing with magic out of principle. We are making sure this city doesn’t starve and is entertained. Want some grain, booze? Something stronger that sends you into the next world? Mundane stuff. You come to me. If it’s weird and glowing I don’t want it. No less because that leads to

exactly this kind of visit. Your order doesn’t look too kindly on that. Too risky for me. Not like there would be anyone on this Islands who could afford magic. Or that I even knew who to sell it to if I was stupid enough to try. Profit margins are thin enough already to avoid any kind of crackdown. Thanks to the… polite insistence of the council.” Olin stepped closer. A hand balled to a fist. “And do you know anyone who would then?” “No one here.” He held up his hands defensively. “But there is someone.”, she replied to gritted teeth. “Lady I am not ratting out my

colleagues. Even if they have gone somewhat weird recently.” “Weird in what way?” “Said too much already. Very sorry I can’t help you. Take it up with Shalinan if you have to.” “Not happening. Talk.” “You got the coin for that?” Cassian realized what was about to happen before anyone else. The low shift in air pressure that made it suddenly feel oppressive. The way his feet suddenly felt numb as if the ground was humming with a invisible charge. And Olins eyes shining bright for a moment, a color like the deep sea, Then the man was ripped upwards by a wave

of glowing energy. His legs kicked in the air as some force pressed his arms to his torso and just… held him there, suspended. “You have one breath to answer me. Before I start breaking ribs. One…after…the…other…” Chaos erupted instantaneously. The women on the ledge drew her knife, another man a rusted pistol he instantly trained on Olin. She didn’t even glance at him but the weapon suddenly erupted into flame and he fell to the ground screaming, holding his burned hand. Another Man ran at her with a sword. One of her hands was outstretched, power radiating from it. The other made

a almost casual flick and the second attacker was thrown back by a shockwave that made Cassians bones rattle. He rolled forwards and felt his bones and muscles protest. His fingers found the shotgun and he came back on his feet…. And trained the weapon on Olin. “Let him down. Now.” His heart was beating like the wings of a butterfly, he could hear his own pulse in his ears. His lungs were burning but he found himself almost unable to breathe. Chocking on something that wasn’t there. And yet his hands were completely still. The barrel of the weapon remaining steadily pointed at her head. His fingers on the two sets

of triggers. “Cassian… “ She sounded more disappointed than angry, didn’t even divert her attention from the man held in the air in front of her. “I am not repeating myself.”