3.27 M (1/2)

When she woke up, it was like any ordinary day. But Mrsha knew it was special because she could smell the crepes.

She liked crepes. They were hot and chewy, and sometimes burned when Lyonette made them. Other time they were still runny, but they were always good because they came with honey.

The small Gnoll with white fur sat up in Lyonette’s empty bed; wriggling out of the covers she’d stolen again last night. Her short, bushy tail beat the ground hard, and in a few moments she raced downstairs.

Food! It wasn’t at all like the bloody meat she used to eat in her tribe’s camp, or the hot and filling stews. Those were spiced and tasted good, but they were made for everyone and sometimes there wasn’t enough. But here, in this inn that smelled of new wood and strange bug-men, Mrsha could always eat as much as she wanted.

And she could eat honey! The Gnoll drooled as she ran downstairs on all fours. She slipped near the bottom on one of the steps, though. Mrsha made a small sound of alarm, tried to catch her balance, failed, and tumbled down the stairs.

“Mrsha!”

It was the first word of the day, and it was hers. Mrsha uncurled from the protective ball she’d made and looked up. Hurrying across the big, empty room was a familiar face. The Human girl known as Lyonette rushed over to the Gnoll, already fretting out loud.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay? I told you not to run down the stairs! Oh, let me check—”

Mrsha turned her face up so Lyonette could see she was well. It was an odd thing the Human girl did, the Gnoll had found. She had to inspect Mrsha all over to see she was well. A Gnoll would have just sniffed to make sure there was no blood—Mrsha had fallen many times over the course of her young life and learned quickly not to cry over small things.

But Lyonette cared. She cared so much that it made Mrsha feel fuzzy inside sometimes. Already the Gnoll knew she’d get extra honey on her crepes—more than she usually got, which was already a lot. Because Lyon was a nice person. She took care of Mrsha. She took care of the inn while Ryoka and Erin were away.

That was what Mrsha understood. This was Ryoka’s home, and the home of the girl who made delicious things. Erin. But it was also Lyonette’s home, and she took care of it while they were gone.

It wasn’t Mrsha’s home. It wasn’t. But it was a good place, and it made Mrsha feel happy most of the time. And Lyonette always fed her here, although some of the things she made tasted bad.

She wasn’t a good cook. And she fussed about things like the cold and bugs and washing. And she couldn’t smell, at least, not like Mrsha could.

But she was kind. She fed Mrsha every day and she always asked Mrsha how she was feeling. She hugged Mrsha often and sometimes cried, but never when she knew Mrsha was around. She smelled of guilt and her hands had blisters from scrubbing and working now.

She was almost as good as a mother. But Mrsha’s mother was dead. And her father. And her tribe was dead too, every last one.

She was alone.

The black thoughts broke through Mrsha’s happiness suddenly. She sat at one of the tables as Lyonette fussed over her, suddenly filled with emptiness. She remembered.

Perhaps Lyonette noticed Mrsha’s suddenly drooping tail and ears, and the way she stared at her white fur. Maybe she didn’t. But in the next moment she had—

Crepes!

Mrsha forgot about what she’d been thinking on purpose. Her stomach rumbled and she wagged her tail and panted as the crepes came on a big plate next to a bowl filled with sweet honey. She reached for the first steaming one, but Lyonette grabbed her paw.

“Ah, ah! You know what to do first, Mrsha.”

The Gnoll child hesitated, and then saw another empty plate. She pulled it towards her, and Lyonette nodded encouragingly.

“And the silverware?”

Mrsha found a fork and knife as well. She put it next to her plate. Then she looked at Lyonette pleadingly. The girl smiled and nodded.

Instantly, the Gnoll grabbed a crepe off the plate. Ignoring the silverware and her own plate, she bit into it happily. Then she took the bowl of honey and poured some over her plate. She wiped some of the honey onto her crepe, took another bite. Sweetness and the electric rush of energy made her practically vibrate on her seat.

Sitting next to her, Lyonette laughed and tried to make Mrsha eat ‘civilized’, which was to say, slower, and with a knife and fork. But Mrsha was too hungry and why should she use a fork? Paws were faster.

That was breakfast, on a day like any other. But it was a good breakfast, and special because she wasn’t in the city. It had been nearly a week since Mrsha had left the Drake who made all the rules, Selys. She had come here, to a better place. She might have called it a home, but how could it be?

After she was done, Mrsha sat on her chair, snuffling at Lyonette’s plate, wondering if she had room to lick up crumbs or whether Lyonette would let her lick the plate clean. What would happen next?

It was a mystery. Some days Lyonette was busy and she’d go around cleaning up dust or cooking more food. But other days she’d play with Mrsha, or bathe her, or groom her hair. Mrsha had toys now. They were hers; the bossy Drake had given it to her. She wanted to play with the ball outside if Lyonette would throw it. Or maybe she could look at the wriggling thing? It was still sitting in the bowl; Mrsha could smell it. Maybe Lyonette wanted to play in the snow?

But then Mrsha smelled something different. Her head turned towards the stairs, and she went still in sudden fright.

It wasn’t a normal day after all. Because coming down the stairs, yawning, was a Drake. Not the bossy Drake, or the one who played chess.

Someone else.

Instantly, Mrsha was out of her chair and hiding behind Lyonette. But the girl only stroked her head and smiled at the strange Drake.

“Oh! Mister Shivertail. You’re up early.”

Shivertail? Mrsha’s ears perked up at the words. She looked at the Drake, and remembered that he was the one who’d come last night!

Zel? Mrsha remembered it because she’d never heard of anyone with a ‘z’ in their name before. Cautiously, she padded around the table and circled Zel Shivertail warily.

“Mrsha! Don’t be rude to a guest!”

Lyonette tried to chase Mrsha away, but she was slow. The Drake only laughed though, as he took a seat.

“I don’t mind, Mistress. Gnoll cubs are far easier to deal with than Drake hatchlings. Do I smell breakfast?”

“Oh! Let me get you a plate. I’ve made crepes—unless you’d like something else? I can do eggs and bacon…”

Mrsha perked up at the words, although she still felt full.

“Crepes will be fine.”

Lyonette hurried into the kitchen. When she came back with crepes and a glass she hovered around Zel while he ate, making contented sounds and Mrsha padded under the tables and chairs nearby, still watching the Drake and sniffing at him with keen interest.

She remembered something about him, didn’t she? He smelled like the sheets of the inn of course, and she could tell he’d travelled for a while because the odor of dried sweat emanated from his clothes. But there was something else, something familiar…

“I’m sorry, we don’t have anything to drink but milk and water. Um. Are Drake children really so hard to manage?”

“Water is fine—milk would be quite nice if you have it.”

Zel waited until Lyonette came back with a cooled pitcher of milk. Sneaking up on the Drake from behind, Mrsha listened to him talk to Lyonette with one ear as she kept sniffing.

“Children? They’re awful. I’ve never had any, but Drakes at a young age are temperamental and they bite. Of course, I hear Gnolls do to, but I’ve never had one of them bite my tail.”

Mrsha stared at Zel’s tail. It was curled around a chair leg. She wondered what it would taste like…

“Oh, well I wouldn’t know. I’m new here. I mean…”

“It’s quite unusual to see any Humans here. I’m sorry, but I didn’t get the full story last night. You said this inn is run by a Human [Innkeeper] who settled here, didn’t you? But how did you come to be here? Did you move from one of the Human cities?”

Mrsha could hear Lyon hesitate as she crept closer one step at a time. Slowly, stealthily—like she was hunting butterflies. She crept along, towards the Drake’s back so he wouldn’t see her, still smelling something so familiar it hurt…

“It’s a long story.”

“If you have time, I’d like to hear it.”

“You’re not busy?”

“I don’t have anything I have to do right away. My…companion is probably still hungover from last night. I heard him say he’d be drinking the cold away and I’m not that keen on meeting him in any case. These crepes are quite good with this honey! Are there beehives around Liscor that have popped up in the last few years? I didn’t hear of that.”

“Oh, well, the bees are…um…it’s part of the long story, you see…”

Mrsha rolled her eyes silently; she didn’t want to hear a story she already knew! She wanted to hear Ryoka’s stories. But it meant both adults weren’t paying attention to her. Finally, Mrsha could crawl right behind the Drake’s chair.

There it was. The smell. She sniffed very quietly at the Drake’s claws. Something was lurking past the ordinary smells of unwashed scale, dirt, sweat, and so on.

Then she smelled the blood, faint and old on his claws and the deeper scents of oil and steel. And she remembered.

He runs out of the swirling snow, armor battered, unarmed. But he runs like a giant, and the Goblins attacking Ryoka and the Gnolls hesitate when they see him. And at his back, an army of Drakes appears as if by magic, howling and shouting with fury as they race towards the Goblins.

The Drake slashes out with his claws and tears through a Goblin wearing black armor as if the Goblin had worn nothing at all. He cuts down another Goblin—a Hob with a battleaxe—and charges onwards. At his side, a Drake with a sword that shines with magic cuts down two Goblins with one slash.

They run past Mrsha, and for a moment her heart leaps in her chest. But the Goblins are everywhere, and then a group of Hobs charges towards them. And she hides in the snow, cowering, wishing everything would go away. She is afraid, paralyzed by terror. Afraid, afraid—

“Mrsha?”

She shook, and then realized Lyonette was staring down at her. For a second Mrsha was still afraid, but then she realized she was in the inn. She felt exhausted, and she stared up at Lyon as the girl looked anxiously at her.

“You were shaking. Are you alright? Why were you hiding underneath the table? You should sit with me.”

She reached for Mrsha, but the small Gnoll suddenly lashed out in anger. She nipped at Lyonette’s hand and the girl pulled back with a cry of pain.

“Ow! Mrsha!”

Filled with hot shame, Mrsha retreated back from the Human girl. She hid by another table. So tired. So afraid! She remembered, and looked past Mrsha to stare at the Drake who was eying her.

He was there. He had been there when she had lost her tribe. He—

He didn’t recognize her. At all. Why?

Because of her fur. Mrsha stared down at her white paws as Lyonette stepped back, looking hurt.

“Sorry about that. I guess Mrsha’s just a bit grumpy today.”

“So I see. I might have upset her—Gnolls can be very territorial. It’s strange though. I’ve never seen a Gnoll with white fur before.”

“Oh? But you’ve heard of Gnolls with white fur? I thought Mrsha was unique.”

The Gnoll backed slowly away from the two as Lyonette turned to Zel eagerly. Her heart was beating too fast and she still felt—he had been there. And because he had been there, Mrsha felt like she was back there, too.

“I’ve heard of it. It’s more of rumors than anything else, but the Gnolls believe certain colors have meaning. White, for instance, is not a natural color for Gnolls of any tribe.”

“But it means something? Ryoka was saying that she thought it had a meaning, but none of the Gnolls would tell her what it meant.”

“I can tell you what I know, but it’s just rumors…”

Mrsha turned away. She covered her floppy ears with her paws. She did not want to hear. She knew what her fur meant.

It meant her tribe was gone. And it meant it was her fault. Mrsha knew that. She couldn’t deny it, no matter how much she wanted to.

[Last Survivor]. Level 8. That was what the voice had told her. It had told her she was the last.

There was no one left.

The knowledge crushed Mrsha, pressed down on her heart until it seemed like there was no air to breathe, no place to exist. They were dead. Her tribe—the Stone Spears—

Were dead.

Because of her.

It felt like suddenly the world was darker, the ceiling lower. And Mrsha was smaller, and it was hard to breathe. She gasped and trembled underneath her table as voices echoed overhead, weirdly distant.

She had to leave. She had to get out. Mrsha stared towards the door, and then ran for it.

“Mrsha! Where are you going?”

Lyonette turned to the Gnoll as she reached up for the handle. Mrsha froze guiltily, but the girl went on.

“Going to the outhouse? Alright, but come back quickly! And don’t try to crawl down there! Remember last time?”

Mrsha didn’t turn. She just opened the door and escaped into the powdery snow. Immediately the world turned bright and white, and cold. Mrsha with all her fur felt cold, but she didn’t care. At this moment she couldn’t bear to be in the inn, not near the Drake who smelled of death and reminded her of what she’d lost. Mrsha looked around the snowy landscape.

There was only one place to go, really. The city. As young as she was, Mrsha still knew the dangers of being alone in the wilderness. So she began to run through the snow, barely visible in the morning light. She was a white patch of color amid a scene dedicated to the very same color.

So perhaps it was no wonder the Drake on guard on the southern gate didn’t notice her. He was standing at attention, but idly. And he didn’t have the nose of a Gnoll, so Mrsha slipped past him with no effort.

And then she was in the streets, staring around at the building curiously, and at the many Drakes and Gnolls—and the few Humans—walking down the streets. A thousand scents assaulted Mrsha’s nose at once, and she breathed out slowly.

Better. She could forget. Only—after a few seconds, Mrsha realized she couldn’t forget. Here too was a bad place that drove her backwards in time. Because of the staring.

They stared at her. Drakes and Gnolls. But while the Drakes did it idly, wondering perhaps whose child Mrsha was, or at her odd fur coloring, the Gnolls were different. They stared and they knew.

It was too much to bear, so Mrsha ran again. She ran through the sea of legs, turned down the first alley she came to.

Quiet. Alone. That was what she wanted. She didn’t want—

Mrsha’s claws pulled at her fur. She pulled at it, as if she could get rid of it. Some hairs came out, and she felt pain, but she pulled more out, biting at her fur, savage, angry.

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t her fault!

But it was. And as the despair flooded over Mrsha again, she thought of home. But home was gone. And the inn wasn’t her home. Ryoka wasn’t there, and she—

She wanted to go back.

Again and again. It felt like Mrsha was turning in circles, and she chased her tail in the wet alleyway, turning about until she was dizzy and wanted to throw up. But it was better than remembering. Anything was.

What now? She couldn’t stay here. Last time she’d run away from Selys, the Watch had found her because she’d tried to hide in alleyways. Mrsha had to go somewhere.

But where? Inn? No. So…

Something swirled on the breeze and Mrsha’s nose twitched as she caught a scent. Gnolls had powerful noses, but their children had far stronger tracking abilities. And so what Mrsha smelled was faint, mixed with a thousand scents, but she still caught it.

A familiar smell. Someone she knew. Instantly, Mrsha padded out of the alleyway and onto the streets. But she paused then, realizing one thing was giving her away.

She was on all fours. It was faster, but in her tribe Urksh had been teaching her to walk on two legs. Mrsha did this now. It was hard—and slower! But she had to blend in, at least a bit. A Drake [Guardsman] would stop a Gnoll child who was alone and on all fours, but if she walked like this, they would think she was older.

No one stopped Mrsha as she walked hesitantly down the street, pausing to sniff or steady herself against a wall or passing object. Perhaps the patrolling Watch members she saw would have paid attention to her, but they were too busy eying the Humans.

There were a lot of them in Liscor, or rather, Mrsha saw at least one Human down every street she walked. But that was many for the citizens of Liscor, and Mrsha saw how the pedestrians avoided walking near the Humans, especially the adventurers who walked in groups of their own.

Down the street. And then left—sticking close to a wall to avoid the rumbling wagons that went down the middle. The smell grew stronger the more Mrsha followed it, and soon she was able to identify what it was.

In Mrsha’s mind an image of a taciturn Human, sitting in a corner of the inn while Erin chatted to him, surfaced. She blinked in surprise and nearly fell forwards.

She knew him! He was the grumpy Human, the one who smelled like leather and alcohol and arrow glue! Mrsha knew what that smelled like. She’d always hung around [Fletchers] as they made arrows—until they chased her away, that was. But this man was different than the [Hunters] of her tribe. He didn’t smell like dead animals, but other things. He killed strange creatures Mrsha could not dream of.

The smell was coming from a big building in front of her. Mrsha blinked up at it. It was an inn, like Erin’s but very full of people—all of them seemingly Drakes. But Halrac’s scent was coming from within, along with the smells of alcohol and food. Mrsha hesitated. Should she go elsewhere?

But she had nowhere else to go. And she liked the grumpy Human. So Mrsha fearlessly entered the inn full of Drakes. She looked around and immediately found the Humans because they were sitting in a corner of the room, and most of the Drakes had their backs to them.

Mrsha glanced around, but none of the Drakes were looking at her. It was because she had a Skill. [Natural Concealment]. Carefully, she crept over to the table where he sat, arguing with three other Humans.

“—I’m telling you, we shouldn’t stand for it!”

He sounded angry. Halrac’s voice rasped as he argued with a big man in armor—Mrsha stared his bulging arms—and a young woman who smelled like cotton and cloth and an old man with a staff who smelled of magic. Magic to Mrsha was the smell of burned ozone, the sharp tang of electricity, and a whiff of something else that defied explanation.

“We paid good coin for those rooms. I don’t care if that damned [Innkeeper] is offering us another set of rooms. How do we know he won’t kick us out of those as well?”

“Because, Halrac, we pay more than any of his other customers.”

That came from the girl with stiches around her wrists. She smelled of magic too, but it was the cloth scent that came strongly from her that intrigued Mrsha. The Gnoll stared at her as she edged closer to the table, sniffing to see if there were any scraps. Was her entire body made of cotton? That couldn’t be right, but that’s what it smelled like.

A man with a big, gray beard leaned across the table to pull a plate of the spicy flat cakes the Drakes loved to eat towards him. He took one and ate it as he spoke, sounding wise and calm, or like how Mrsha imagined wise and calm people spoke.

“It cannot be helped. The Drake who came by is a Lord of the Wall. To Drakes, that would be the equivalent of a major [Lord] or one of the Five Families turning up. We should count ourselves fortunate that he didn’t reserve the entire inn.”

“Arrogant bastard. I recognize him—he’s a commander as well. Did you see his arms and weapons? We don’t have enchantments of that quality. If it came to a fight, though—”

“We’re not at war, Halrac.”

That was all the big man said. Mrsha saw the [Scout] slowly nod, although he still looked angry.

“I say we should leave. It’s not worth the coin we’re paying to stay here.”

The girl with stitches and dark skin drawled as she sat back in her chair.

“Say I agree with you. I’m getting tired of being sneered at behind my back too, but where would we go? There aren’t any inns not full to bursting in this city and we can’t kick anyone out, unless we’re willing to pay more than we are now.”

Was she a [Mage]? Mrsha crept a bit further under the table, hiding under Halrac’s chair. She wondered if any of the adventurers would drop some food by accident, or if she could steal a snack. Probably not.

“There’s one inn that’s empty. I told you about it before.”

“Your little watering hole. Right. Well, it can’t be worse than waiting thirty minutes for food to arrive.”

The Stitch-girl made a face. The big man exchanged glances with the man with the beard, and then leaned forwards.

“You told us the [Innkeeper] vanished a while back. Has she returned?”

Halrac shrugged.

“I don’t think so. But there’s still a girl in the inn. A [Barmaid].”

The man with the beard looked amused. Mrsha wondered if it got in his way. Gnolls had fur, but not beards. Wouldn’t it get messy when he drank soup or ate food?

“An inn without an [Innkeeper]. Still fancy moving, Revi?”

Revi, the girl, frowned.

“Maybe. It’s empty, you said?”

Halrac nodded. The big man looked unconvinced.

“If the beds are empty, it’s probably for a good reason.”

The [Scout] rolled his eyes expressively. He jerked a thumb at a passing [Barmaid]—who glared at him behind his back.

“A place to sleep—even if it does mean we don’t get waited on hand and foot—is still better than paying ten times as much to be stared at like we’re pariahs.”

“Fine.”

Revi sighed. She looked at the man with the beard.

“Typhenous?”

Beard man paused and stroke said beard.

“I wouldn’t mind a bit more inconvenience if it means cheaper rates. If we’re planning to stay for as long as I fear we are, we should attempt to conserve our coin.”

Revi and Halrac nodded all eyes turned towards the big man.

“Ulrien?”

“I don’t really care.”

His voice was deep. Mrsha could smell blood on him—not a fresh wound, but the traces of it. She knew this because she was staring right at one amazingly muscled calf. She longed to poke it, but she knew she had to be quiet.

And then—noise! Footsteps approaching. And silence—an audible drop in the background babble of the inn. Mrsha peeked out from her table and immediately hid when she saw the other three beings approaching. She didn’t think they were Human.

“Jelaqua.”

“Ulrien. Is there room at your table for us to sit?”

Mrsha, curled tightly around the center of the table, heard Ulrien reply after a moment of hesitation.

“I don’t see why not. We’ll have to grab chairs and move—”

“Watch the Gnoll cub or you’ll squish her.”

Mrsha froze in surprise. She heard a rustle, and then Halrac’s glaring face peeked below the edge of the table with the other three adventurers. They all looked surprised, and the…woman…named Ivirith laughed.

“You didn’t notice the Gnoll child? You’re losing your touch, Halrac.”

“I didn’t think we’d be spied upon. You there…Gnoll! Come on out!”

Cautiously, Mrsha did just that. She stared up and immediately shrank back when she saw the newcomers. But they didn’t look angry…

“Halrac, you know this Gnoll?”

“She’s from the inn. I don’t know why she’s here.”

“Perhaps she’s grown attached to you. I have heard of stranger things.”

The weird-echoing voice came from one of the new adventurers. He looked like he was part crab or part…Mrsha had never seen anything like him before. She stared wide-eyed at the man, before looking up at the giant whose head was nearly touching the rafters.

“What do we do with her? I don’t suppose the [Innkeeper] would summon the Watch to bring her home.”

Revi frowned at Mrsha, and then smiled. Mrsha glared at her; she could tell when adults were pretending to be nice!

“Where are you from, little one? Shouldn’t you be going home?”

“She’s mute, Revi.”

The Stitch-Girl drew back and sighed.

“Pity.”

“Oh, let her sit here. Where are those chairs? Oh, thank you, Moore.”

The half-Giant casually lifted the chairs over. Mrsha blinked at her seat, but then sat in it. Her head barely peeked over the table. She stared, wide-eyed at the one who had spoken.

A woman with dead-white skin stared back at her, lips turned upwards in a smile. But Mrsha didn’t smile back.

The woman was dead. Mrsha could smell it on her. She was dead, but something lived inside her. It was frightening, and Mrsha edged away from the dead woman as she reached out to pet Mrsha on the head.

“Keep away from her, Jelaqua. You’ll scare her.”

Halrac said this irritably, catching Jelaqua’s hand. She glanced at him in annoyance, then looked at Mrsha’s wide eyes.

Jelaqua stopped, sighed, and withdrew her hand. She smelled like death, but she still moved as if she were alive. Mrsha’s fur stood up on end as she scooted her chair away towards Halrac’s seat.

“Aw, don’t be like that little Gnoll. You’re the only one of your kind who hasn’t walked twenty paces wide of me since I’ve been here.”

The woman pulled the plate of snacks across the table and pushed it gently towards Mrsha. The Gnoll hesitated, and then grabbed one greedily. Breakfast seemed an age ago.

“Here. Have one of these. And—[Barmaid]! Drinks for the table, if you would! Ale!”

The pale woman turned and called out to a passing Drake, who nodded, eyes wide as she stared at the woman. Unperturbed, Jelaqua turned back and nodded to Ulrien.

“We’ll pay for what we order, don’t worry.”

Ulrien waved a big hand.

“Forget it. Coin for food and drink is hardly something Gold-rank adventurers need to worry about.”

Jelaqua paused, and then nodded her head to him with a wry smile.

“We’re used to arguments over it. And with how much Moore can drink, well, it’s good to get that out of the way, especially when we’re trying to negotiate.”

“Negotiate? About what?”

Halrac stared suspiciously at the three adventurers. Typhenous rolled his eyes and stroked his beard with one hand.

“There can be only one thing. The dungeon.”

Jelaqua nodded.

“Of course.”

“If you think we’ll give up our claim—”

“Halrac.”

Ulrien’s word silenced the [Scout]. Jelaqua shook her head.

“We’re not here for that. Rather, we’d like to team up.”

“Really?”

The adventurers on Halrac’s side seemed surprised, although Mrsha didn’t understand what was actually happening.

“It’s only practical. It’s too dangerous by ourselves.”

That came from the huge giant, Moore. He had a surprisingly soft voice and he nibbled at one of the doughy discs very carefully.

“We’ve gotten scratched up twice going in there. Both times we didn’t have the numbers for a clean fight. And I’ve heard every other team that’s gone in has run into all sorts of hellish traps, same as us. Those that make it out, that is. If we want to make real progress, we need to work together.”

“Seborn is right.”

Jelaqua took a mug from the tray the Drake [Barmaid] was carrying, ignoring the way the Drake flinched as she stared at the Selphid. Jelaqua took a drink, grimaced.

“Dead gods. This isn’t good stuff. How much do you pay to stay at this inn? Anyways, the last time we went into the dungeon we ran into a pit trap the length of the entire corridor and fifty feet down. If Moore hadn’t cast a spell we’d be dead. But after we landed—guess what was at the bottom of the pit? A colony of Metalbite Slimes.”

Halrac and the other adventurers made noises of dismay. Ulrien shook his head.

“That’s…bad.”

Jelaqua drained the rest of her mug, grimacing. She did not call for a refill.

“Right? But I’ll bet you ran into just as bad a trap. Did you see what chased the last group of adventurers out? The Children. There are entire colonies of monsters in that dungeon, branching pathways that seem to change each time we go in, and traps both magical and mundane—we can’t handle it alone. The Halfseekers are already understrength, but we thought if we combined forces we might stand a chance of getting somewhere in this dungeon. What do you think?”

The team of Griffin Hunt turned and conferred silently. After a moment, Ulrien nodded.

“We could use the extra help.”

Typhenous and Revi both nodded. All eyes turned to Halrac, including Mrsha’s. Revi frowned at him; the [Scout] did not look happy as he shifted his attention between the three half-Humans.

“Halrac?”

He grimaced.

“I have no reason to object. My [Dangersense] is screaming at me every step I take inside that place. Someone else to check for traps would help.”

All the adventurers relaxed. Jelaqua smiled, and Seborn nodded at Halrac soberly.

“Even together, I fear that we will not progress quickly. But it will be reassuring to work with another expert.”

“A team, then. We can haggle over distribution of spoils later—”

“No need. We’ll split it evenly.”

Jelaqua’s brows rose in surprise, but then she was smiling as she clasped hands with Ulrien over the table. She looked around the inn and sighed.

“I’m relieved. If I’d known you would be so open to the idea I would have come earlier. A team. It’s been a long time since our group joined forces with any other party. On that note—do you know if this inn has any openings? We just got kicked out of ours.”

“Really? Why?”

“You have to ask?”

All three Halfseekers smiled crookedly. Mrsha wriggled in her seat. She was getting bored! She watched Jelaqua’s pale lips moving, wondering why she didn’t rot when she was dead.

“Selphids aren’t popular on Izril—less so than Baleros, incredibly. All the rumors about my kind lead to suspicion and paranoia. As for Moore…someone with a quarter of a Giant’s blood in him is hard to feed, let alone find a bed for. Oh, and apparently Seborn smells like fish.”

“Untrue. But arguing doesn’t help matters.”

Mrsha’s stomach rumbled. She probably shouldn’t have eaten so much. But it was so tasty! She looked around as the adventurers spoke about boring things.

“We just got kicked out of the best rooms in this inn too. No help here, I’m afraid. But Halrac’s been telling us to visit another inn—you know, the one outside the city where we had that—”

“Really? Do you think it’s still empty? I was wary of being outside, especially since it seemed like there was some drama to do with the Gnolls. And that skeleton! But if we’ve no other choice—it would be good to work under the same roof…”

Mrsha was powerfully curious about the Halfseekers, it was true. She’d love nothing more than to sniff at Seborn and Moore, but she knew it wouldn’t be polite. She could sit here and eat more food maybe, but—she didn’t want to sit here! Now that she’d been caught, the fun was over. Mrsha wriggled in her seat, and looked towards the open doors. Time to go. She grabbed another spicy, doughy treat and slipped off her chair.

“Hey now. Where are you going young Miss?”

The big half-Giant, Moore, turned to Mrsha and she froze. But he looked concerned rather than angry. Mrsha edged away from him, ready to bolt, but Halrac stopped Moore as the half-Giant moved to rise.

“Leave her. The last thing we need to be accused of is harassing a child. The inn’s not far from here and the streets are safe.”

“But is the inn safe? I would hate for a child to be put in danger. The monsters around the city can be dangerous, especially if some escape from the dungeon. It is waking up.”

“The Watch patrols, and they’re as good as—better than teams of Silver-rank adventurers. I saw one of them—a Drake. He knows how to fight!”

Seborn frowned at Jelaqua, although only the fleshy half of his face moved.

“They patrol within the city. But if you’re really suggesting we sleep outside of it—are there any guards in this inn, any enchantments? Or will we be sleeping with one ear to the ground?”

Mrsha scampered out of the inn as the adventurers continued to argue. She didn’t know what they were talking about. Mrsha seldom did. But they were busy and Halrac seemed sad. He always seemed sad, which is why Mrsha felt a bit drawn to him.

Maybe he knew what like being alone was like.

Disappointed and lonely, Mrsha wandered back onto the street. There she remembered why she’d gone inside. The Gnolls stared at her. A passing trio of Drakes—a child and mother and father slowed as they saw Mrsha. The child pointed to her.

“Why is her fur white?”

Because she was the last. Mrsha turned and ran down the street. Where now? Back?

No—there was someone else. The bossy Drake. She would be nice to Mrsha. The Gnoll raised her nose to the air and sniffed.

There? No—there? It was hard to pick out her smell on the streets. Mrsha would have to search to find her.

But something else smelled familiar to her. Mrsha looked up and saw a familiar person.

Pawn! The Antinium was walking down the street. Mrsha immediately ran after him, but he had a lead on her and it was hard for her to follow through the crowds of people. When she did catch up with him, she found herself on an abandoned street—

And staring down into a hole in the ground. That was what it looked like. Suddenly, an entire street just…vanished. The cobblestones ended, and a sloping path of dirt led down into darkness. Mrsha halted on the edge of it, uncertain. Strange smells were coming from below—the same smells as that of the huge Soldiers who’d come from the inn.

But Pawn had gone down there, she knew. And the Soldiers were nice! So, bold and unafraid, Mrsha ran down the dirt tunnel, into the darkness.

It wasn’t fully dark. Glowing patches of moss lit up the tunnel immediately, but it was still far too dark for a Human to see. Mrsha could see just fine though. She ran forwards eagerly, but froze when she realized she was surrounded.

Standing in the walls, huge, silent, were Soldiers. They stepped out as one, clenching their fists in a clear sign of aggression. Mrsha backed up as she saw more Soldiers appearing behind her! It was a trap!

The Soldiers were ready to kill, but not ready for the sight of a small Gnoll. They stared at her. But then they started forwards again, hostile, and so Mrsha ran.

She ran. The wrong way, as it turned out. In order to get away from the looming Soldiers Mrsha had to race into the dark tunnels. They chased after her, but while they could have blocked a Human, Drake, or any other species quite easily, Mrsha was too small and slipped between their legs. She dashed forwards—

And found herself in a huge network of tunnels, filled with shadows in the dim illumination. Crisscrossing openings, paths leading up and down—

And Antinium. Hundreds of them, all marching in an unending current. Mrsha froze as they all turned and stared at her. A group of Soldiers turned towards her, and she heard the ones behind her running. Mrsha dashed forwards, unthinking, and hurtled down a tunnel, past Workers who stood aside from her.